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ieirism · 7 months

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I'm absolutely in love with your fics, I saw requests were open and I had to pop in! If it's not a problem, could you write a little scenario in which Kazuha knows s/o is crushing on him? Maybe s/o isn't aware of their own feelings yet but they dote on Kazuha like crazy and that makes him so 🥺

declaration.

pairing: kaedehara kazuha x gn!reader

contains: fluff and possibly ooc kazuha bc i struggle writing my favorite characters for some reason please dont hate me

for @yandere-romanticaa <3

note: ana you are so amazing and i'm so sorry it took me way too long to fulfill your request. i’m so honored that you took time to send me an ask and i hope you enjoy 🥹

You’ve known the familiar saltiness of the ocean breeze for as long as you can remember. All your life you’ve been at sea as the doctor of the famous Crux fleet. Even now, the splashing of the waves against the sides of the docked ships fills your ears with their gentle greeting and calms your aching body.

Your eyes slip closed as you take in the scent of the sea, and try to steer yourself away from focusing on the alcohol rushing through your veins. For being part of the crew of a famous pirate captain known for her love of alcohol, your tolerance is embarrassingly low.

Beidou, leader of the legendary Crux fleet, is a household name admired by many, including yourself. You’ve always longed to be as courageous and bold as she is. Yet, you’re seemingly cursed with your shy and soft-spoken personality, unable to emerge from your shell.

You’re reminded of this again as roars of laughter sound from below the crow’s nest in which you perch, your fellow crew mates celebrating another successful arrival at Liyue Harbor. If you had a single social bone in your body, you would have a half a mind to party right along with them. After all, the fleet had recently returned from Inazuma, and although it would kill half the crew to admit it, many were afraid that they wouldn’t be making it back because of the current condition of the nation.

Inazuma.

While just as strict and frightening that the rumors made it out to be, the trip had not been entirely fruitless, especially for you.

After all, that’s where you ended up meeting him.

Kaedehara Kazuha.

A young man from Inazuma that Beidou allowed onto her ships, a runaway from the wrath of the Almighty Shogun. Mild and tranquil, gentle and calm, yet his strength and will could not be disregarded even by the most ignorant of fools. You had seen his blade in battle, and witnessed the mercilessness even a kind man like him could display.

Your closed eyes tighten, and so does your heart. You want to blame the alcohol you had poured down your throat for the ache in your chest at the thought of him, and yet, you know it’s futile. He had not only shown you kindness like he had everyone else, but also genuine interest and compassion. He had paid you what your foolish self had interpreted as special attention, offering to assist in the hospital wing, inviting you to sit with him on the deck to watch the stars, bringing you meals when you were preoccupied by your work—although you’ve only spent a few short months with him, you’ve already grown attached to him.

You had convinced yourself to be fine with living in the shadows; you have come to terms with the fact. You didn’t mind living your life with no permanent company, content with yourself and the view of the ocean. And yet, when Kazuha had conversed with you with such tenderness in his eyes, how could your heart not be stirred after being neglected for so long?

You can’t exactly describe what you feel for him, only that you long to be by his side. He’s almost magnetic to you; you’re drawn to him like a moth to a flame. You don’t know if you’ve ever felt this way for anyone—although you don’t know the word for it, it’s been consuming you.

You briefly wish you could have another drink.

You don’t typically consume alcohol, hence your pathetic status as a lightweight. Yet, a few hours ago, something deep inside you shattered when, while attempting to search for Kazuha, you heard a few rumors flitting about within the crew. Apparently, Kazuha planned to leave the crew and stay in Liyue for the time being, at least until the political problems in Inazuma had been quelled to some extent.

You were so pathetically devastated; you know Kazuha has been a wandering warrior for a long time now, so it made sense for him to not want to be tied down for too long. However, logical thinking couldn’t erase the pang in your chest, and before you knew it, you were struggling to keep your eyes open, thoughts muddled and limbs heavy.

You felt foolish for ever thinking you would truly be alright with being alone. After he came along, your whole world had changed – and if he was truly about to leave you, everything would change once more. This time, you don’t know if you could lie to yourself about your loneliness, not with the hole in your heart that had already started to form.

You had barely been able to climb up to the crow’s nest in your intoxicated state, but you managed to do so without hurting yourself. You often came up there in the dead of night when everyone was asleep. For many years, it was only yourself sitting up there, staring at the sky. Whether it was starry or foggy or rainy, having a moment of peace on your own always brought you comfort.

Despite your intentions of moping in your feelings by yourself, you’re not alone. Perhaps if you weren’t so intoxicated, you would have noticed the very man on your mind watching you from just below you on the deck. Kazuha’s scarlet eyes are gentle as they gaze upon your small form curled up in the crow’s nest, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he watches you.

You’re simply exquisite, moonlight bathing you in a heavenly glow as stars twinkle merrily behind you. You’re facing away from him, but he can happily imagine your pretty face admiring the twinkling night sky. He had gone into Liyue Harbor to buy you rice buns, which you had mentioned several times to be your favorite food. You often spoke about how much you missed food from your home nation, especially this one particular treat, so Kazuha had wanted to surprise you.

You deserve this, and so much more. You hardly ever get to rest, always tending to the injured and weak without complaint. You’re careful and tender with your hands, strong and capable with your knowledge, and kind and humble with your heart.

He’d been imagining the beautiful delight that he hoped would overtake your features, radiating the most gorgeous form of joy that he had only felt from the warmth of your smile. You would direct this pure happiness only at him, pretty eyes sparkling. Kazuha considered himself a lucky man to have been able to see this expression of yours, as you were characterized as quite indifferent by the rest of the crew.

The more selfish part of him basks in the idea that he has been the only to see your true happiness, and to a greater extent, been the source of it. He knows the effect he has on you; your stuttered words and averted gazes never did much to hide your feelings. Nor did the way you dote on him even when he isn’t badly injured, tending to his wounds with feather-light touches and soft words of reassurance.

Kazuha knows all this, but remains careful – any wrong move could drive you away, so he moves slowly, inconspicuously. He couldn’t make his intentions clear from the start, or knowing you, you may have become overwhelmed.

This never stopped him, however, from staying close to you and reveling in the way you showed your affections for him, even in the small and unintentional ways.

He’s not as amiable and kind as you might think; he doesn’t spend time with you because he pities you. Although he puts up an easygoing, polite persona with everyone around him, he always knows exactly what he wants, and isn’t afraid to pursue it. Kazuha simply can’t get enough of you, the same way he knows you can’t get enough of him.

Tonight, he’s decided to make it clear, once and for all, that he loves you just as much as you love him.

Kazuha deftly climbs up the crow’s nest, steps light and quick so as to not disturb or startle you. When he reaches the top, he calls out to you. “May I join you?” Unnaturally slow, you turn your head to meet his gaze, and – have you been crying?

“Kazuha.” You croak his name softly, a fresh wave of sadness seemingly washing over you as you register his presence. Kazuha wastes no time in rushing to comfort you, face pulled into an uncharacteristic display of panicked concern.

“What happened?” His voice is still composed and calm, but his heart is hurting, aching, at the sight of you in distress. You don’t say anything in response, only staring blankly right at him. Several wine bottles are scattered around you; it’s not difficult to deduce that you were intoxicated, and severely so.

What had made you, who typically avoided alcohol like the plague, end up like this?

Before he could continue trying to coax an answer from you, you suddenly raise one hand, reaching over to poke at his chest with your index finger, hard. Your sad expression morphs into one of frustration instead, eyebrows furrowing as you try to form a coherent thought.

“Y-You.” One word. You curl your fingers into the front of his haori. Kazuha raises his eyebrows, confused by both your reply and sudden boldness. You had never attempted to touch him besides when you were healing him, despite all of the time you’d spent together.

“Me?” Kazuha starts to worry; had he done something truly unforgivable to upset you? While he himself can’t remember any action that could’ve made you act like this, it very well could’ve been unintentional and yet warranted an apology all the same. You don’t speak for another few moments, keeping your grip on his clothing as you stare down at your lap, seemingly having lost some of your nerve.

“I-Is your arm a-alright?” Your eyes dart toward where his wound is wrapped by thick cloth, done by your own hand only hours earlier. You had tears stinging your eyes while tending to his injuries, something that never happens. After years of dealing with medical emergencies, nothing fazes you anymore—nothing, apparently, except seeing Kazuha wince slightly in pain even when you do your best to be gentle.

“Of course.” Kazuha smiles softly at you. “All thanks to you.” You’re quiet again, as if slowly digesting his words. You shift on your feet, fingers still gripping his clothes.

“...D-Don’t leave me.” Your voice comes out small. Your lip quivers. Kazuha’s heart drops into his stomach.

“Leave you?” he repeats your words quietly, in disbelief.

“Don’t.” Another few tears trip down your face. He calls your name softly, and in response, you finally lift your head to look at him again.

“Where did you hear that I would leave you?” he asks, gently taking your now unfurled hand that was still resting on his chest.

“They s-said you were s-staying in L-Liyue.” You hiccup, the hand encased in his own curling into a fist.

Kazuha pauses, finally starting to understand the situation. It was true that some time ago, he had planned to wander Liyue until he would be allowed back in Inazuma peacefully. He remembers saying so in response to several crew members asking how long he would be staying with the Crux fleet. This would’ve been the plan, if not for the defining factor that ultimately swayed his decision to remain on the ship for longer.

“Staying? I’m only visiting.” Kazuha smiles gently, revealing the bag full of rice buns and placing it in front of you. “For this.” For you.

Your eyes brighten a little at the familiar scent and sight of your favorite food. Your vision clears a little as Kazuha wipes at your tears with a careful brush of his fingers. Your mouth runs dry, completely forgetting about the rice buns you had been missing for months as you take in the sight of him.

His light hair is blessed with a soft glow from the moon, his kind scarlet eyes glittering with concern and yet a hint of… amusement? Is this even real? Is he really not going to leave? The horrible, fleeting thought that this might be an extensive figment of your imagination crosses your mind.

Kazuha continues to smile tenderly at you, thumb drawing soothing patterns across the apple of your cheek. Your heart starts beating faster, unable to contain the emotions bubbling up inside of you any longer –

You don’t know if you can completely blame the alcohol for the way you collapse into his arms, and he catches your weight as if you were a feather, holding you against him with ease. Kazuha squeezes your hand, still firmly held in his, as if to reassure you that he wouldn’t let you fall. You should be embarrassed, mortified, even, but you can’t bring yourself to care – not when you’re finally, finally as close to him as you’d always wanted to be.

Kazuha’s free hand brushes along the back of your neck, sending goosebumps trailing up your skin. He gently brings your head down to rest right over his racing heart. “Can you hear that?” he hums. “This is how you make me feel.” You sniffle, on the verge of tears once more – you’d been searching for what you feel for him, for so long. As Kazuha cradles you against his chest, even your intoxicated self slowly comes to realization.

Kazuha strokes the top of your head, allowing you to continue listening to the rapid pace of his heartbeat. Everything is perfect – his compassion, his patience, his warmth, him. You have never been more certain that in this moment that you really, truly –

“Love you.” The words leave you steady and clear, not a hint of a tipsy slur like everything else you had said to him that night. You’re not even nervous that you might’ve just humiliated yourself; not with the way he held you tighter, communicating without a lack of doubt that –

“I love you, too.” His voice was little more than a whisper, but that was sufficient – no, so much more than enough, for you.

“Please.” You lift your head, still heavy with alcohol, off his chest to meet his gaze. “Please, k-kiss me.” With all of your heart and soul, you expect, hope, want him to lean down and grant your wish, but he simply gives you a soft smile.

“Not like this, my love.”

Kazuha hopes you don’t get him wrong – he wants to kiss you, desperately. He has wanted, for months, nothing more than to feel the sensation of your undoubtedly soft lips against yours, moving in flawless synchronization and doing nothing to quell the desire in his heart, but rather, fuel it.

“P-Please,” you stutter again, with more urgency this time. Somewhere in the back of your frazzled mind, you know he’s right; it would be wrong of him to take advantage of your inebriated state. But you want it, want him. You’ve always considered yourself a rather content person, accepting of what you had and never chasing after more, but for him, you’d keep running for the rest of your life.

Slowly, torturously, Kazuha leans down, and you close your eyes in anticipation – only to feel his lips on your forehead. You open your eyes to see that he has already drawn his face away from yours, one of his hands bringing your head forward against his chest once more.

Kazuha smooths the distressed crinkle that forms between your brows as you realize that he won’t be kissing you tonight. “Don’t worry. There won’t be a need to ask again once you’ve recovered.” His lips curl into a rather cheeky, boyish grin. Your face heats up and your stomach twists into a knot – not the anxious, unpleasant kind, but one of deep yearning.

“Stay w-with me, p-please.” You whisper this as a prayer to Celestia, to him, before you let yourself finally succumb to the wine-indueced sleepiness that had been threatening to overtake you for far too long. As Kazuha rubs soothing circles along your back to ease you into a deep sleep, you feel what you’ve experienced with him and him only – safe, cared for, cherished.

The next morning, you wake up to the squawking of seagulls as well as the crash of the morning tide against the wooden planks of the Alcor. Warm sunlight is already filtering in through a thin layer of clouds, accompanied by a gentle breeze that sweeps through the sails. A pounding headache has settled in your temples, along with an incredibly unpleasant parched feeling in your throat.

The memories of last night come flooding back much faster than you would’ve liked, hitting you all at once and making you outwardly recoil at how you had – oh, my, Kazuha is –

You realize just then you’re still in his arms, his haori wrapped around the two of you for warmth. He’s fast asleep, his snoring quiet and rhythmic.

It was all real.

The gasp that you let out immediately awakens Kazuha; he’s always been a light sleeper. His scarlet eyes snap open abruptly, instinctively scanning the premises for danger before focusing on you. “Are you feeling alright?”

Your face is burning with embarrassment and you’re tripping over your words, feeling guilty for waking him up and trying to ask him to go back to sleep. After a few moments of nonsensical babbling, all you can say is, “The rice buns – “ You never forget to finish your sentence, as Kazuha silences you by placing one of his hands – large, rough and calloused from years of combat yet still so gentle – on your cheek, thumb swiping across your lips. A silent request.

You hardly have time to nod before he pulls you against him in one fluid motion, finally allowing his lips to clash with yours. He kisses you long and deep, with passion and longing lacing every small movement of his mouth against yours. If you had any worries about his feelings not being as intense as your own, they were promptly quashed by the way he greedily swallowed every breath, every noise that threatened to leave you.

When he finally pulls away, you feel like your heart is about to leap from your chest and fly far, far away. Kazuha is smiling, looking at you with something that can only be described as pure, unadulterated adoration burning in his scarlet gaze.

This alone was a declaration. Calm yet firm, and leaving absolutely no room for doubt – that he loves you.

#kaedehara kazuha #kazuha #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin scenarios #reader insert #kazuha x you

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luminnara · 2 years

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I would hit him in a heartbeat now. || Billy Hargrove x Reader

Summary: Billy and the reader both come from abusive households. You both know a thing or two about split lips and broken noses. You discover that you each have that in common...and god, you wish you didn’t.

Warnings: mentions of abuse

Just a short lil thing that was supposed to be longer, but then I stole half of it for cherry bomb lol

I was far too scared to hit him

But I would hit him in a heartbeat now.

You knew a thing or two about split lips and bloody knuckles.

You were very familiar with yelling and screaming and slammed doors.

You knew all too well how a fist felt yanking on hair, and how to pretend that nothing had happened. Because you couldn’t tell, you never could. You could never even talk about it, they told you. If you did, you’d be taken away, far away, and that always felt scarier than the punishments. You deserved those, anyways.

That’s what your parents always told you.

When you were bad, you were punished. It was simple. They wanted you to be quiet, to only speak when spoken to, to be the perfect child in the perfect family. They had tempers, though, tempers that had been passed on to you, and you were never quiet or reserved.

You didn’t know how to be.

Maybe it was because you wanted to act out. They were stifling you, keeping you from growing into yourself, and you felt stunted and angry. You couldn’t show it, though; every time you fought, which was too often, they made sure that you received twice as hard a beating at home if they found out about it. That only made you angrier, though…angrier and more confused, because you were supposed to be good and your family was supposed to be happy, so why did this feel so wrong?

Sometimes, you tried to rationalize it. Your parents were just harsh. Some people were just like that. They ran a tight ship, that was all. But then, you would make a mistake and you would already be shaking like a leaf before the yelling even began, and you knew that you’d drawn the short straw for families.

You couldn’t talk about it, though. And really, who would care? Plenty of people had issues with their folks. You weren’t special.

And the thought of telling anyone terrified you more than your parents did, because you knew what would happen if you blamed the bruises on anything other than your own clumsiness.

—————-

“God, isn’t he dreamy?” Carol asked as fresh lipstick swept over her bottom lip.

“Who?” Vicki asked from the next sink over.

“Billy Hargrove,” Carol rolled her eyes. “Duh.”

“Uh, he’s totally dreamy,” Tina cut in. “I swear his butt gets better every day.”

You stifled a sigh as you slipped past them and out the bathroom door. The popular girls always talked about Billy like that; in fact, that was tame. You’d overheard conversations that made it seem like they viewed him as more of a piece of meat than a person.

You didn’t really get it. He was cute. Hot, even. You watched him as he played basketball just like they all did, with your eyes glued to his broad shoulders and to his handsome face, wishing that you could have a chance with him. The difference between you and girls like Tina and Carol, though, was that you really didn’t think you did, because you just...weren’t the kind of girl that guys went for.

Especially not guys like Billy Hargrove.

As you walked down the hall, you found that you couldn’t get him off your mind. Yeah, you were crushing on him, big time...and you knew that it was useless, and there was no point to it, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was the town bad boy, and he was tough and confident and he always knew exactly how to pose to get everybody hot and bothered. He didn’t date, though, not really, and he rarely went out with the same girl more than two times. And they always loved riding in his car, because afterwards, they would gather in the bathroom and talk all about it, spilling all the juicy details for everyone else to ooh and ahh over.

That’s what made you realize that even though he was rude and a total womanizer, they weren’t very nice to him, either. They were all always just using each other and then tossing each other aside, and sometimes, you felt like you were the only one who thought it was a little fucked up.

At the same time, you understood. The desire to feel wanted. The urge for something to make you feel a little better for a while. You weren’t hot like Billy, though; you couldn’t just have your pick of the crowd, and you were too nervous and too meek to ever be on anybody’s radar. Especially not Billy’s.

When you collided with something very solid, though, you suddenly found yourself on that radar, as more than just a small blip.

“I-I’m sorry!” You stammered, already hugging yourself as you began shivering. You hated running into people. You knew, in the logical part of your brain, that most people at school didn’t care. The worst they’d do was call you a name and move on. But the more reactionary part of your brain was immediately on high alert, moments from shutting down, running way too hot as your thoughts somehow raced and did nothing at all at the same time.

When you managed to glance up, your blood ran cold.

Billy Hargrove was glaring down at you, a hand hovering over his ribs on the side you’d collided with. It was a defensive movement, one that you thought you recognized…and when you looked at his eyes, you saw something that told you he was in pain.

You figured it was from a fight, or maybe PE. Or basketball. The possibilities were endless for a guy like Billy, and as he scowled down at you, you felt yourself growing fidgety.

“…it’s fine,” he finally said.

He was watching you like a hawk, and you felt like a scared little rabbit. You could see his eyes shift as they inspected you and you hugged yourself tighter, suddenly feeling so incredibly exposed. It was as if he could see everything, as if he knew everything, as if there was no secret in the world that you could hide from those gorgeous blue eyes of his.

Really, Billy had caught sight of a fading bruise on your forearm, barely visible where your sleeve had been pushed up when you hastily wrapped your arms around yourself. He had never had much of a chance to check you out, and he had never been particularly interested in doing so, but now that you were right there and he was in an alright mood, he was taking the time to...and honestly? He liked what he saw.

Except for the finger-shaped bruise.

There had to be more, and he was willing to bet that if there were, he’d see that they formed a familiar pattern.

“Really, I’m so sorry, I’m so clumsy...I should have been paying more attention, not being so stupid--”

“Hey.” he snapped, eyes finding yours again. They were so intense, so full of rage, that you wanted to shrink back and melt into the wall. “Cut that shit out. It’s not a big deal. I said it’s fine, so it’s fucking fine.”

You kept your mouth shut, nodding vigorously. “R-right. Yeah. So, um...I’ll see you around.”

When you hurriedly stepped around him, he turned to watch you go. “Hey. Hang on.”

You froze, turning to face him quickly. “Yeah/?”

“Me ‘n the guys are gonna be scrimmaging at lunch. You should come.”

“O-okay,” you managed, your voice sounding a bit strangled.

“Cool.” and with that, he shoved his hands in his pockets, hunting for a cigarette, and you scurried towards your locker.

You grabbed your lunch bag, holding it tightly as you made your way to the gym. You knew a lot of the other weirdos ate in there rather than the cafeteria, but you tended to avoid it. It was usually quiet, and sometimes, you preferred the white noise of a busy lunchroom over the echoing nothingness of an empty gym.

Today, though, it wasn’t empty. The guys from the basketball team were already there, Billy Hargrove included, and as you sank down onto the bleachers, you watched him. He was pulling off his shirt and tossing it aside, and there, on his torso, you could see a few blooming purple bruises.

Your heart sank. You knew what those were. When he caught your eye and you saw the serious look he was giving you, you could tell that he had invited you because he wanted you to see. As terrible a sight as it was, though, it made you feel…almost relieved, maybe? You realized that you were less alone, maybe. Less of an outsider. Because if Billy Hargrove also had bruises, then maybe they were nothing to be ashamed of.

He caught you after class that day, calling you over to his car. The air was tense for a moment, or maybe that was all in your head as you awkwardly avoided his eyes.

“Lemme give you a ride.”

So he did. You had him drop you off down the street, because you knew his car was loud, and you knew your parents wouldn’t take too kindly to it. As you moved to get out, he stopped you, giving you a serious look as he held your wrist gently.

“I’ll pick you up in the morning.” He said around a cigarette.

“You don’t have to…” you mumbled.

“I want to.”

“Why?”

He watched for a moment, and then sighed. “Wanna make sure you’re okay. I know what it’s like is all.”

Your heart was aching for him, and you barely even knew him. “I wish you didn’t…”

His eyes widened slightly. He suddenly looked lost and vulnerable, totally exposed. “I could say the same about you.”

“…hey.” You brushed your thumb over the back of his hand and then leaned in, pressing a light kiss against his cheek. “Thanks, Billy. I’ll…see you tomorrow.”

He stared at you as you got out of the car, and he lingered there at the end of your street as he watched you walk towards your house. “Yeah. See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargove x reader #stranger things x reader

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anakinskywalkerog · 2 years

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My Very Soul (Chapter 24)

Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!Reader

Link to Chapter 23

Warnings: yay :) (fluff) (also should mention Anakin is VERY LIGHTLY tortured but only a tiny bit)

Summary: You and Anakin go to Geonosis to attempt to rescue your Masters; an important shift occurs...(you may want to blast that Birdy song again)

Word Count: 4k

"Anakin," the ghost of a voice rang out, "re-transmit this message to Coruscant."

The pale form of the hologram of Obi-Wan Kenobi rose from both your comm and Anakin's. You'd needed to head out to your ship, to connect to the long-range transmitter. You stood below the ladder that led up to the small cockpit, holding your comm links in your palms, watching the message that your ship had already recorded. Your ship was, at this moment, transmitting Obi-Wan's words to the council chambers, making sure the message hit the ears of the most powerful and respected Jedi in the Order. This was not a live communication, and therefore, you couldn't say anything back to Obi-Wan. Still, hearing his voice after weeks was jarring. So much had happened between the moment you'd left Coruscant and now. You'd almost forgotten your life, your Master, the sound of Obi-Wan's voice, its specific timbre. You felt, rather than sensed empirically, that Master Yuma stood just beside Obi-Wan's holographic form. You wished, in spite of yourself, that she would step forward—that she would speak to you, that you could hear her voice. Your heart flipped inside your chest. How could you return to your old life, now that you felt you had been made into something new?

"Yuma and I have tracked the bounty hunter Jango Fett from Kamino to the droid foundries on Geonosis." Obi-Wan's hologram paused, as if distracted by something. "It is clear, now, that Count Dooku has been behind the attacks on the Galactic Senate."

At this, your eyes widened, and you and Anakin looked at one another. I told them, you thought, frustrated, but you pushed the thought aside immediately. You had too much on your mind to dwell in spite.

"The Commerce Guilds and Corporate Alliance have both pledged their armies to Count Dooku," Obi-Wan continued, addressing the council, "and are forming an...Wait!...Wait!!" Obi-Wan had drawn his saber as fast as light speed, blocking, you saw, blasts coming from somewhere outside the hologram. You gasped. As Obi-Wan backed out of view, you saw Master Yuma, her long braids swinging around her, her lightsaber held high as she too blocked holographic blasts. Both of the Jedi moved out of view, and in their place, you saw destroyer droids walking forward, shooting blast after blast until the transmission cut out.

You gaped at Anakin, stunned. What had you just witnessed? This could have only occurred mere moments ago—you'd received the transmission when you had been sitting with Anakin, in the underground room that housed the moisture vaporators. Where were Master Obi-Wan and Master Yuma now? Had they managed to escape?

"Anakin," you heard a different voice command, "Y/N." You looked back at your comm, which now showed the hologram figure of Master Mace Windu. "Return to Coruscant immediately. We will handle Count Dooku."

"Yes, Master," you heard Anakin choke out, and at this, the transmission ended. You stared at Anakin.

"We can't go back," you said quickly, and Anakin looked up at you, widening his eyes.

"Are you suggesting," he said, disbelieving, "that we disobey a direct order? For the second time?"

"Yes," you said firmly, staring him in the face, no hint of insincerity in your voice.

"Who are you and what have you done with Y/N?" Anakin asked, a laugh gracing his face for the briefest moment. The laugh didn't sound genuine. This situation was just too heavy. In the past few weeks, your life had descended from the normal level of complicated to full and utter chaos. Anakin's dark act sat heavy at the back of your mind, a weight that you tried to push aside. Still, you knew that Anakin's feeble attempt at humor was a good sign. It meant he was still trying. It meant he was breathing in the light.

"We're much closer to Geonosis than Coruscant," you said seriously. "We need to go rescue our Masters." Anakin was looking at you funny. "What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious. You felt within Anakin a very strong admiration. Amidst all of the tragedy, amidst everything, you felt suddenly buoyant, as if the seaglass around your neck was lifting you into the air.

"Nothing," Anakin said quickly, and for the first time since you'd left Levangé, his smile reached his eyes. "Agreed. Let's go."

"Are you ready?" Anakin asked you softly as the ship pulled out of hyperspace.

"As ready as I ever am," he heard you respond. The planet beneath your ship was a darker orange than Tatooine, but it looked just as barren, just as unwelcoming. Anakin flew the ship down low, near to the sector where Obi-Wan's transmission had come from. Anakin pushed aside his darker thoughts—his fears for his Master, his guilt, his worry for you. He tried, hard, to focus on the present.

"There," Anakin heard you say, and he looked and saw steam rising from vents near what looked like a settlement hidden in the rock.

"A perfect place to hide," Anakin responded, pulling the ship into the steam. He hoped it was harmless.

"I know you prefer the, 'guns blazing' approach," you said as Anakin touched the ship down on what felt like a metal grate. "But I think stealth is our best option here."

"Don't worry, flea," Anakin smiled. "We can do this your way.

Anakin covered his nose and mouth as he opened the cockpit and lowered the ladder. He gave you a hand and then descended himself, hurrying to the edge of the grate where the steam was thinner.

"Over here," Anakin heard you call, and he saw you kneeling in front of a hidden door. Anakin quickly got to work on the door panel, pulling off the metal and rewiring, his fingers moving fast. The door opened.

The two of you crept into a dark hallway. Anakin felt you reaching out, communicating to him in his mind that you should not draw your sabers until it was absolutely necessary. Anakin agreed. He didn't know anything about this place, and he thought it best not to announce your presence with the light and sound that a saber cast.

Suddenly, Anakin felt you reach out in the dark and grab his arm. Anakin stopped, listening hard, but he heard nothing. What had you felt, that he had missed? Were your abilities picking up on a presence?

"Anakin," you whispered, and Anakin turned to look at you in the low light. The sight took all feeling from his body, his legs and feet going cold. Your eyes were rolling back into your head, and your body was shaking. He'd seen this happen to you twice before—once on Hoth, and once on Serenno. The fact that it was happening now could mean nothing good.

"Y/N," Anakin whispered frantically. You didn't seem to have lost all of your awareness. You still gripped his arm firmly, and Anakin saw that your other hand was reaching out for him. He quickly took your hand in his, taking you into his arms, looking around, still seeing and hearing nothing.

"What is it Y/N? What do you feel?" Anakin breathed quietly into your ear.

"Horrible...horrible things," you whispered back, your mouth struggling with the words. "He's telling me horrible things."

"Who is?" Anakin asked, his fear spiking.

"He's here," you rasped a little louder, and at this, you fell limp in his arms, completely unconscious. The hairs on the back of Anakin's neck stood up, and Anakin felt the change before it happened. Keeping you firmly in his arms, and moving your collapsed figure to the side, Anakin drew his saber with his other hand, blocking two quick blasts that came from what looked like sonic blasters.

"Y/N!" Anakin shouted, trying to rouse you as he blocked more blasts from the oncoming attackers, bug-like creatures that clicked when they spoke. They descended upon the two of you, and Anakin pulled your body behind his, blocking each blast one-handed with his saber. The sonic blasts, however, did not rebound upon the attackers—the energy was absorbed fully by Anakin's lightsaber, and thus, Anakin was solely on the defense. While holding onto you, Anakin could not take an aggressive attack stance.

The bugs grew closer and closer to Anakin, and he blocked their blasts cleanly, still trying in vain to rouse you. Suddenly, Anakin heard the sound of dark laughter, and the blasts stopped.

"So heroic," the man said, stepping forward, clapping his hands together twice. At first, Anakin thought the unfamiliar but foreboding old man was performing a sarcastic applause. Anakin quickly realized, however, that the claps signaled to the bugs to drop their weapons.

"You must be Dooku," Anakin said, his tone confident, feigning civility, mirroring the man who stepped before him.

"Your weapons," Count Dooku gestured to Anakin's saber, which he still held high in the air.

"As if," Anakin spat, looking at the man in hatred.

"Manners, Padawan," Count Dooku said, looking quite at ease. "Your weapons, or else..." the man trailed off, and at this, Anakin saw the Geonosians behind him put their sonic blasters to your exposed and defenseless neck.

"What have you done to her?" Anakin asked, his brow furrowed in anger, his heart beating fast.

"Nothing more than what is necessary," Count Dooku said simply, and Anakin sensed an unspoken truth behind this mysterious man's presence. Anakin narrowed his eyes. "Oh, yes, she is a fascinating talent. Which, of course, can create problems for us." Count Dooku laughed, and Anakin shifted his weight so that you were fully behind him, unconscious as you were. "But, in the end, she is nothing," Dooku seethed, and Anakin's anger curled upward inside him, licking at his throat like a flame.

"How do you know who she is?" Anakin asked, suspiciously, trying to keep Dooku talking so he could find a way out of this that didn't include you in a body bag.

"I know many things, Anakin Skywalker," Count Dooku said threateningly, stopping in front of Anakin. "Now, your weapons. Unless you'd like this to get...messy," Dooku continued, and at these words, the bugs held their guns cocked at your neck. Anakin was sweating, and he sensed Count Dooku would kill you given the slightest provocation. In fact, he thought it odd, that Dooku had not already attempted to kill the both of you. Clearly, this man was not shy when it came to killing. Anakin sighed in defeat, and dropped his lightsaber on the ground. Count Dooku immediately swept it into his hand using the Force.

"And hers," Dooku said, looking Anakin in the eye. Anakin shifted your limp figure back into his arms, and freed the lightsaber from your belt. Dooku collected your weapon in the same manner as Anakin's, and Anakin touched your face, seeing that your eyes were still moving beneath their sockets, still rolling around in your head.

"Right," Dooku said professionally, as if this matter were beneath him. "Now come with me." Dooku walked forward down the hallway, and Anakin had half a mind to try to run, with you, in the other direction—but the Geonosians were all around, in seemingly infinite numbers, their sonic blasters pointing up at Anakin where he held you in his arms. Anakin saw no choice but to follow.

Dooku led Anakin through what looked like a factory, and onto a staircase made of rock. As the two men walked, you stirred, your head moving back and forth.

"Y/N?" Anakin whispered quietly, touching your cheek with his thumb. "Can you hear me?"

"She won't wake," Count Dooku called from ahead, and Anakin flushed with anger. "Not now, anyway. Your friend is easily distracted." Dooku laughed. Anakin didn't understand. What did he mean, by this?

The Geonosians pushed Anakin forward with their blasters, down more stairs, through what seemed to be a magnificent rock structure, until they were below ground.

"Time to part ways," Dooku said harshly, and before Anakin could stop them, the Geonosians were wrestling you out of his arms. You made a soft noise, but remained insensate.

"No!" Anakin shouted, lunging forward to you, but Dooku quickly used the Force, shooting with his fingers a blue lightning at Anakin. The pain was excruciating—but in a moment, it was over. Anakin gasped for air. He'd never seen anyone use the Force in this manner before.

"No harm will come to her," Count Dooku said, and a look of impatience crossed his face. This reaction confused Anakin even more. "The same cannot be said, unfortunately, for you," Dooku continued, shooting Anakin with more Force lightning. Anakin's knees buckled and he fell to the ground, his eyes watering at the pain. When the lightning stopped, Anakin looked up just in time to see the Geonosians carrying your lifeless form out of sight.

"It's time for us to have a conversation," Count Dooku said menacingly, lifting Anakin's body with the Force. The Geonosians bound Anakin's hands behind his back in restraining cuffs, and Dooku pushed his body into what looked like a cell.

Anakin panted, hanging in his restraints. Count Dooku circled his form, studying him. Anakin didn't understand. Why was Dooku holding back? Why not kill him? Why carry on with him, in this way?

"I'm simply trying to understand," Count Dooku said aloud, as if answering Anakin's unspoken question. "What is it about you, Skywalker? Why are there so many whispers? Why must I preserve you?" Anakin didn't understand this speech. What was going on?

"Why are you killing senators?" Anakin responded cheekily, struggling as he hung, held by the ray shields that kept him vertical.

"And why is it so important," Dooku continued, as if he hadn't heard Anakin's interjection, "that I incapacitate your friend? Why must she be preserved, and yet blinded?" At this, Anakin was fully lost. His heart gave a pang as he thought of you, being led away by the bugs, your eyes rolling back into your head. Where were you, now? What kind of Force prison was your mind trapped in? Why did this keep happening to you, and more importantly, how?

"Ah," Dooku said, looking Anakin in the eye as he circled him. "More than a friend, perhaps? You are too forthright with your presence, Padawan. This is something you must learn to control, if you wish to be a Jedi Master. And yet..." Dooku looked away, as if looking somewhere else, into the future. "What if there is use for you, after all?"

"What do you mean?" Anakin burst out, unable to keep his curiosity to himself.

"What if I told you," Dooku said, his tone picking up in urgency, "that you could have what you desire? That under my mentorship, you could have more?" Anakin's insides squirmed.

"I want nothing to do with you," Anakin sneered clumsily.

"You could have her," Count Dooku continued, looking maniacal, and Anakin's heart panged once again, as if being tugged from the other end of the string. "The Jedi would never let you marry, but if you want the love of the one you seek..." Dooku sounded almost crazed, his eyes wide. "And you could have power—power beyond anything you have imagined. Together, you and I could destroy our enemies, and make things the way we want them." This speech tore through Anakin like a pact. How could this horrible, evil man in front of him say something that sounded so very much like what Anakin himself had said to you?

"I would never join you," Anakin said angrily, struggling in his restraints. Dooku seemed to come back to himself.

"Pity," Count Dooku responded, coming back to his civility, looking Anakin over in distaste. "That you will lose her, the one you love. Yes, I can feel it, Skywalker, I can feel the desire in your heart, the covetousness, the...despair." Anakin's stomach dropped to the floor. "A waste, that she will die, because you were too zealous in your commitment to this dying religion." At these words, Anakin screamed.

"What have you done with her?" Anakin shouted, wriggling in his restraints. "Let me out of here!! Bring her to me, now!!" Anakin yelled with as much Force command as he could muster, but it did nothing.

"You are so predictable," Count Dooku spat, "and you bore me." At this, Count Dooku hit Anakin again with more Force lightning, and the sound of his screams rang through the palace of rock.

When you came to, you found yourself collapsed on the ground of a small, semi-dark cell made out of orange rock. You were alone, you saw, as you sat up and rubbed your forehead. Where were you? What was happening? The last thing you remembered, you...

Dooku! you thought, and you gasped. You remembered arriving on Geonosis with Anakin, remembered walking through a dark hallway until...until you had been led into a dark hallway in your own mind. You remembered now. The presence you had encountered on Serenno, Dooku's own signature in the Force, had not turned and walked away this time. He had greeted you, had led you into his own trap. He had told you horrible things...horrible things about yourself, about Anakin, about the Jedi, about the Republic...and those horrible things had trapped you in a cage, your own consciousness keeping you prisoner. But now, as you tried to piece together that exchange, you couldn't remember. What had Count Dooku told you, in the Force? How had he imprisoned your mind?

You were shaking. You looked around, felt your belt, but saw that you had no lightsaber. Being without your weapon made you feel vulnerable, naked. You weren't even wearing Jedi clothes—you were still in the senator's garb, which was now dirtied and torn. You stood up, though you were still shaking and covered in cold sweat, and swept the cell, looking in all the corners, feeling with your fingers the place where the rock met the cold metal of the door. You tried to use the Force to open it, but it was no use. The thing wouldn't budge.

Just then, you heard the vaguest sound of a scream, like an echo of an echo, a tear in the fabric of the silence that surrounded you. It was like you felt the sound in your heart, rather than heard it with your ears. It was a familiar voice. It was Anakin.

"Anakin!" you yelled, and you banged on the metal of the door. You heard the sound of more screaming, and it brought tears to your eyes. What were they doing to him, to make him scream like that? Where was he? You had to get to him.

You paced the cell over and over, feeling every inch of the rock. You pushed with the Force as hard as you could, but the door wouldn't budge. It seemed impenetrable. You sighed, sweating, shaking your head back and forth. How were you and Anakin going to get out of this?

You paced in circles for an unknowable amount of time—how long had you been in here? There was no way of knowing. Your brain was buzzing with anxiety, and you paced and paced. Then, suddenly, mid-step, you felt movement. You felt something coming closer, through the Force. You felt someone approaching. The door opened.

"Anakin!" you exclaimed, half terrified, half relieved. In the split second you had to make the decision, you thought about trying to fight your way through the dozens of Geonosians you saw behind the door, all of them pointing their sonic blasters straight at your heart. But then you saw the condition Anakin was in—saw him being pushed forward into the cell, saw him falling forward to his knees, his arms restrained behind his back. You thought no more of fighting. Anakin could barely walk.

"Anakin," you breathed, kneeling next to him as the Geonosians slammed the door of the cell shut. It was dark, but you could just barely see his face, and you reached outward, touching his cheeks.

"Y/N, are you all right?" Anakin asked, and you saw that he was covered in sweat. He looked severely shaken, you noted, but you didn't see any bruises or lacerations, no signs of serious injury, and this calmed you.

"What? Yes, I'm fine," you said, hurriedly, "Anakin, what did they do to you? Where does it hurt? Tell me, and I'll fix it, I'll—"

"Are you sure you're all right? They didn't hurt you?" Anakin asked, his body drooping forward, but his eyes alert, looking you in the face, kneeling in front of you.

"Ani, I'm fine," you said quickly, shaking your head, "but Ani, look at you! What happened?"

"Nothing," Anakin said, crinkling his eyes in confusion, "Dooku didn't want anything from me. I don't understand..."

"Understand what?" you whispered, keeping your hands firmly on Anakin's face. He was here. Though your situation was desperate, though there seemed to be little hope of escape, you felt okay, felt wonderful, because Anakin was here in front of you, unharmed. You took in his whole form with your eyes, how sturdy and real he looked, and you felt whole in a way you couldn't describe. It was like the reality of your situation—how precious life was, how easy it might be to lose it—shattered every structure inside of you. You didn't remember, now, why you felt it so important to keep yourself far away from Anakin. Those reasons for not allowing yourself to express how you felt blew away in the wind like they were made of straw. You could no longer pretend you didn't feel the way you did. You felt like you could never let him leave your side again.

"I don't know. I don't know why Dooku has kept us alive. I don't know what he wants. It doesn't make sense." You nodded quickly, agreeing, but not fully caring. All you could feel was the relief—the relief that Anakin was okay and here with you, if even for one more moment.

"I don't know if we're going to make it out of this one, Ani," you said quietly, looking at the blue of Anakin's irises, and at these words, tears formed in the corners of your eyes. You felt the weight of the seaglass hanging on your chest. These words seemed to give Anakin new strength.

"I'll figure this out. I'll..." Anakin said, straightening on his knees, looking around the cell, trying to think. "I'll get us out of here. Don't be afraid, little flea."

"If I'm afraid to die," you breathed, quietly, "it's only because I'm afraid of being parted from you." Anakin, who had been looking all around the cell, distracted, suddenly snapped his face back to yours, furrowing his eyebrows, breathing in quickly.

"What?" he asked, not taking his eyes off you, looking confused.

"Ani, I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before, I—" you choked, the tears flowing freely now. You kept your hands on Anakin's cheeks, pulling him closer to you. "I was wrong. I didn't understand..." Both you and Anakin were breathing heavily, him hanging onto your every word. You felt in him a tidal wave in the Force, forming in his ocean, beginning to rise. "I thought I could live without you, if I was strong enough, but I was wrong. It isn't about strength, and I can't, I can't live without you near me, I can't take one more breath without telling you—"

But Anakin cut you off, pressing his lips to yours firmly, and you didn't object. You wrapped your arms around his face and head, and together, the two of you intertwined in the Force, your breath curling around his breath, your soul stringing together with his. The change was irreparable. There was no going back now. There was no going anywhere, not unless the two of you were together.

You communicated all of this in the kiss, and Anakin responded in kind, his waves crashing inside of him, waves of joy, of oneness, of passion. You felt as if the two of you might still be on Levangé—you were without a care for anything else, anything outside of the two of your bodies, your forms, your selves. The rest of it didn't matter. You were connected, and no matter who might try to attack you, no matter where you found yourselves, nothing mattered as long as this bond was held intact. The Force demanded this of you: that you worship the connection you had formed with Anakin, that you revere this bond with every breath, with every heartbeat.

Dizzy, you and Anakin broke apart. The smile on his face was unlike anything you'd ever seen, in any lifetime.

"I love you," you said breathlessly, your smile mirroring Anakin's, "is what I meant to say."

"I know," Anakin replied, his love for you beaming through the Force like the sun—burning always.

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

eeeeeeee dying

NEXT CHAPTER IS UP NOW

divider credit to @racingairplanes

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dracwife · 9 months

Text

repentance.

ship: a taste of the divine -> dracula/ambroży

word count: 1084

summary: And I looked, and behold a pale horse: And his name that sat upon him was Death, and Hell followed with him.

Upon the horizon is graced a soft spatter of mud, quiet at first but approaching quickly. In the rain, it almost feels like a rumbling storm that gathers.

Distant thunder cracks, and as lightning catches a glimpse of the night, the horse retreats to the main road, its hooves echoing a cacophony of shrill batterings in the narrow street of the village; Rhythmically its beats descend upon the main square, where the horse stops, rears, and the figure atop it holds high the torch it carries.

In the dusk glow, it is almost hard to see, but pale faces peer from windows, curtains drawn back by curious children, who are quickly swept away by fearful mothers, only the bravest of fathers dare to indulge their curiosity and even then take heed to what legends will say of the white hooded figure that rides a white horse.

The red that lines the inner of the figure's cape draws the eyes of those that dare stare, and one by one the men of households file towards the square where the figure sits, waiting.

"Foul beast," one dares to shout, "You are not welcome here."

The hood of the figure turns towards the man.

There is no response at first, and as he squints through the storm, his eyes fall on nothing but the darkness that lies within the hood. He notices then the torch the thing carries -- its flame refused to be extinguished by even the harsh torrent of weather. He gasps softly.

The figure then speaks, or rather growls with a low reverberating voice that echoes within the man's very skull.

"Fool."

He falls to his knees, agonous shrieks louder now than the rain. The thing's horse whinnies softly.

Its voice thunders through the town square, through every home, every mind.

"The monsignor. Bring him to me."

A few of the men and a few of the women stumble about the town, hushed whispers and muted screams as quickly word spreads of the creature descended upon their humble village. The church bell tolls, and from the building creeps an elderly man, harrowing the rain as he is escorted by many panicked townsfolk to the square in which the Beast awaits him. It straightens its posture as it is approached. A flick of its hand parts the crowd in wonder, leaving in full view the monsignor and his escorting group. There is a brief moment of silence before it beckons them closer.

The creature tosses the torch down, and as soon as the handle falls from its fingers, the flame extinguishes. It clatters to the ground, and the priest furrows his brows. He watches as the creature raises its other hand, and finally draws its hood back.

Ever slowly, tauntingly -- and as it lifts the fabric and allows it to fall beyond its shoulders, revealed beneath the ghostly white face, framed with silvery hair, sunken eyes with deep purple circles outlining the eyes -- and the crowd gasps as its eyes finally scan the gathering -- a deep crimson shines within them, piercing the heart of every soul it touches.

In an instant, its hand is around the throat of the monsignor; Lifting him as though he has weighed but nothing at all, and as he gasps for air it laughs digs its fingers into his neck.

"You remember me, człowiek?"

The man's head turns, trying desperately to look away, but a clawed hand jerks his neck back.

"Look at me," it hisses, "You have done this."

And then it drops him. He hits the ground with a thud, a sickening snap breaking the silence that has otherwise fallen over the town square. He gasps for air. Between breaths, he mutters prayers, eyes closed and hands gripping his vestments.

The creature's head cocks.

"Speak, if you so wish, mortal."

The monsignor's eyes open, and he drags his gaze to meet the thing on the horse's. He mutters another prayer.

"Louder."

He does. It laughs.

"Once more, helpless thing."

He heaves a shaking breath, and musters the last of his strength to raise his voice once more.

"And I looked," he starts, now on one knee, and struggling to stand, "And behold a pale horse: and his name that sat upon him was Death…"

The thing peers out to the horizon behind it. It's expression twitches unamused, perhaps repulsed, by the reading of the Holy Word.

"...And Hell followed with him."

It turns back to the priest. In the blink of an eye, the priest stands halfway, and falls again, throat torn open and writhing in pain. Sitting above him is the creature, head tilted towards the darkened sky: From its mouth drips red, fangs as long as nails bared, and it smiles. Laughs again, a monstrous, discordant sort of sharp noise this time. When it is finished, it looks back down, over the crowd. Its tongue darts out, licks the blood that drips from its lips.

"What more do you want?" a panicked voice stands out.

"You poor, delicate creatures," its voice raises again, casting an air of unease through the crowd again, "All of you so fragile. So ignorant."

It hums, a strident rumble from within its chest.

"Ten years ago, you cast me out. Left to the elements, no food, no shelter. Left for Death, which I have found such sweet embraces in. And now I return, seeking reparations."

"Please --" another voice, "We will give you anything."

"Oh, yes," it chides, "You will. You will pay in blood, as I have. You will pay in fear, and in death. You will pay in such sweet suffering."

The pleads come quickly, and with hurry. Begging, offerings of material goods, services, mothers bargaining for children’s lives, husbands for their own at the peril of their wives. But it hears none, focused now on another noise:

The distant cadence of hooves yet again, and from where the pale horse came from comes a dark one. The beast extends a hand.

"Nemuritor."

"Dragă mea," the second vampire takes the first's hand. His eyes fall to the body that lay now splattered on the ground, his voice echoes within the other creature's mind.

This is truly what you want?

"Yes," it whispers, strained and hurting.

"Then you have done well. Come. Tomorrow we leave. Tonight --" the Count takes one last glance over the gathering, now shrinking as some slink away, others stumbling, few running home as their last few moments draw near. Others stand their ground. How fun this will be.

"Tonight, îngeraș, we feast."

Translations, for those who want them:

"You remember me, człowiek?" [ mortal ]

"Nemuritor." [ Undying/Immortal. The name of Dracula's horse. ]

"Dragă mea," [ My pet ]

"Tonight, îngeraș, we feast." [ little angel ]

In addition, Ambroży here is depicted as morowa dziewica, or a plague maiden! I thought it might be rather fitting for the theme here.

#ee ee #dex.writes #hiiiiii sorry. i was inspired.#ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d.

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tothepointofinsanity · 8 months

Note

Do you have any super into detail thoughts on kyosaya? I know you've drawn a few art pieces for the ship, but I haven't seen any written think pieces about it from you.

I know there are some who don't like to use ships as a way to tie to a characters personality, so I guess I'm curious what your overall thoughts are on it and how it ties into sayaka as a whole.

"Think pieces" is a pretty neat way to put it...The primary foundation of KyoSaya to me revolves around a uniquely sapphic relationship that I hope would be expanded upon in future shows in the series.

↑ Yet, what are all these words supposed to mean? Sayaka has always done things for the sake of others. Her sense of justice elevated to the point where she views herself as a knight, someone who kneels in the face of goodness in respect of whatever is honourable to maintain it. But a knight is just another form of a pawn, just a stronger one whom everyone perceives has the ability to: 1) protect others 2) kill The Enemy.

Sayaka used to only ever have been able to interpret this in an extreme and binary vision. If she has to defend others, she has to devote herself fully to the cause. To her, the notion of self-care and self-preservation is difficult to comprehend since she feels as though she always has to be a monolith of one singular thing, of one side of things. To her, everything is like a chessboard. There is no way to play knight for both teams at once: either you prioritise yourself, or you prioritise others.

I understand that it is also a realistic depiction of how individuals like Sayaka constantly push through their own struggles alone while always uplifting others, a demonstration of unbalanced relationship dynamics. When this vision is challenged, Sayaka does not know where and how else she is expected to just "move forward" when she realised reality is not a simple game of chess. So she shrinks her view of the world further by clashing with Kyoko, since Kyoko is The Enemy who obstructs Sayaka's own perception of all that is Good and Just. Sayaka knew she was manipulated by Cubey™, but it was not only in the later movies that she comprehended the full extent of it. Something like that feels too complicated in her mind, so it's easier, much less burdensome to just lock onto one person to be angry with. This mentality is almost a sort of fallacy for Sayaka given she becomes a Witch in every cycle she becomes a magical girl.

Sayaka wants to feel relied on by humans. Kyoko does not desire nor expect anything from people, and thus balances out the extremes of Sayaka by being detached from worldly expectations - at least, that is what's consistent with Kyoko's perception of herself. A puppet without strings. She is not a pawn, not a knight. That's why she was angry when she realised the wish-granting alien omitted information on magical girl mechanisms and their life cycles. Instead of shovelling forward headstrong like Sayaka, however, Kyoko reconsiders her childhood memories and her desire, and it was to die with Sayaka so that Sayaka would not have, in Kyoko's eyes, perished for the sake of The Greater Good, because Kyoko believes still in the Self, not the vague promise of a better future.

Uhm. It's probably nonsense now that I put it in legible words. Some other KyoSaya fans who are big brained enough should educate me more on their dynamic, but I find their relationship to be interesting. It's very fallen angel x demon coded. I feel...as though Sayaka and Kyoko are hard to separate given they exist as characters that neutralise and support each other. Perhaps not codependent, but Sayaka was unhinged enough for Homura to not threaten her once, but twice whenever Madoka's feelings are involved. Meanwhile Homura was more...tolerant of Kyoko. Kyoko is there to keep Sayaka in check to make sure she doesn't piss off the Devil to the next century, and to me that is also funny.

[Although, it is tragic that since Sayaka embodies the sea, the only way Kyoko can only be with her "in death" due to the theme of Ophelia, her lover and the flame of the witch. Who could have predicted the doomed yuri is doomed. A sinking ship, even.]

#me rereading this: maybe i am a fake kyosaya fan...#i do love all ships with sayaka in it except maybe when it involves kyosuke #since it was confirmed that even if sayaka got together with him she would have been called a monster #okay.#mfw seikyu is literally too mentally ill to support herself. she's. trying guys #but it feels nice for sayaka because she feels being cared for by someone else for once #and it's “better” because she doesn't want to burden madoka #so she instead she turns to a person not previously familiar with her #but oops she caught feelings and now sayaka is stuck with 99 insight and kyoko is just eating as usual #i also like that their colours and personality are inversed #the ocean is furious but the flame is cozy #ASKS 💌#kyosaya #madoka magica #sayakyo

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mecchimon · 2 months

Note

"I dont support it in real life!"

Then why write about it? If for coping purposes, why post it online for others (especially actual predators) to see and consume? Then why portray those things in a positive light instead of condemning them?And you're seriously going to tell me that just because as an adult you want to see a fictional minor (that mind you, is usually designed to resemble an actual child) depicted in sexual situations doesn't mean you don't share that same view concerning children in real life? You find fictional minors attractive but not real ones? Why does the line between finding someone who is (and usually also looks like) a child sexually attractive get drawn at whether the child is real or not? I'm not calling anyone pedophiles, but if the shoe fits... And also no, I am not talking about 18 y/os finding 17 y/os attractive. Use your brain. Creating content of underaged characters is still questionable regardless of age, however.

Wow.

Well hello to you too. Thanks for the ask and I hope you have a great day.

Now, at what point during your scrolling through my blog, filled with Sanrio characters and drawings of adult fictional men. May I repeat, adult fictional men, did you manage to make up this baffling scenario that I somehow condoned pedophilia ? Where in the numerous reblogs of Pompompurin and My Melody did you see me wishing harm and abuse on real life children ? How does one even come close to that scenario ? Why do you guys immediately hear pedophilia when the word proship is involved ? "Minding your own business and not harassing others online regarding their ship" means pedophilia now ? Is this what we're doing ?

Do you know how crazy you sound coming into a complete stranger's asks to make up grave accusations without any proof whatsoever ?

Not even talking about how weird it is to assume that I'm condoning absolutely everything I post online because apparently fiction and reality are absolutely one and the same to you, and I'm not even going to toe that line considering you won't listen at all, why are you making this random assumption that what I'm posting is vent art ? Because I'm not a victim of sexual assault nor have I been assaulted or raped as a child. It's rude to make assumptions.

And who the hell are you to dictate what they should or shouldn't post ? Your own displeasure or ick shouldn't interfere in anyone else's business, what you should consider doing is actively shutting the fuck up and educating yourself properly on what the words that you spout actually mean, because you just sound dumb right now.

And how twisted do you have to be to casually imply that everything I post online enables pedophiles. Do you know how sick you sound right now ? Pedophiles don't give a fuck about me or my art, they just want to exert their power over children and rape them. And you are relishing in the idea that I or someone could be using my work to do that. That's a good thing to you, that a child could be abused right now ? Where you should be horrified and contact CPS or possibly the authorities, you find glee knowing that the person you're interacting with could be a pedophile who wants to sexually assault children or enable this ?

And excuse me, which children are you talking about exactly ? Because all of the characters in THH are confirmed to be 20 years old. Is a 20 years old a child now ?

You know, you should seriously think before finding random strangers online to acuse them of being pedophiles and maybe find real problems. Because by actively watering down serious problems, you're making things worse for children and those who actually care about children ? Ever thought about that ? You're not protecting anyone, you're making things worse.

Don't you have like, anything else to do ? There has to be at least one thing that you like to do instead of being this hateful, so go do that and stop such being a rude shithead online.

And now I'm disabling anon asks before more twats like you swarm in and start saying the vilest stuff because you think that you can do that with no consequences. I didn't put it there so you can say whatever like I'm a fictional character. I'm a real person, you cunt.

Again, I hope you have a lovely day, and go fuck yourself.

#proship #my first anon ask and this is the bullshit i have to deal with #yay i guess...

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artilaz · 26 days

Text

OC Meme - Vharloth Zal'arin

(Baldur's Gate 3 version)

Tagged by: No one directly, but @ex-textura's gorgeous boy Ilztaufein inspired me to do this for yet another OC

Tagging: Everyone who wants to do it and hasn't been tagged directly!

B A S I C S

Full name: Vharloth Zal'arin. He chose the name for himself. He'd rather cut out his tongue than ever speak his birth name again, since he associates it with nothing but misery.

Gender: Cisgender male

Sexuality: Bisexual

Pronouns: He/him

Class: Oathbreaker Paladin

O T H E R

Birthplace: One of the greater cities in the Underdark, but I haven't decided on a specific one yet.

Job: None at the moment. Before his escape, he was being kept as a slave and gladiator.

Phobias: He bears an intense fear of seeing loved ones suffer or die, but since that fear isn't irrational, it's not quite a phobia.

Guilty pleasures: There's not much that brings him pleasure to begin with, but he doesn't feel guilty about anything that does.

Hobbies: He doesn't know himself well enough to have many real hobbies yet, but what he does know is that he enjoys singing - mostly where nobody else can hear it, though.

M O R A L S

Alignment: He still has to figure out where his free will will land him, but probably along the lines of chaotic good.

Sins: None of the classic deadly sins fully apply to him, but negative traits of his include jealousy, apathy/reluctance, as well as a tendency towards judgmentalism, all of which he's aware of, and actively trying to overcome.

Virtues: Patience, tenacity/resilience, hope, and the willingness to learn and improve

T H I S O R T H A T

Introvert / Extrovert

Organized / Disorganized

Close-minded / Open-minded

Calm / Anxious / Restless

Disagreeable / Agreeable / In between

Cautious / Reckless / In between - strongly depending on the given situation, and whether or not there are lives at stake other than his own

Patient / Impatient / In between

Outspoken / Reserved / In between

Leader / Follower / Flexible

Empathetic / Unempathetic / In between

Optimist / Pessimist / Realist - not quite applicable. His past has left him with a pessimistic streak, but he's actively working on getting rid of that, forcing himself into a more hopeful mindset.

Traditional / Modern / In between

Hard-working / Lazy

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

OTP: None so far

Acceptable Ships: Vharloth x Halsin. They're not an absolute OTP, but they'd work nicely together, at least from Vharl's point of view. Halsin's grounded, wise, and kind nature is something he'd feel himself strongly drawn to. Maybe even Vharloth x Astarion. I don't think they'd last for very long, but they could bond over some of their past trauma, and misinterpret their understanding of each other's emotions as romantic feelings.

OT3: Vharloth x Halsin x Lythia (another OC of mine). Lythia is a young half-elf, her father being Aozhan, my main OC. She's sweet, gentle, kind, accepting, and has a strong heart. Halsin and Lythia are the actual OTP here, but since they've agreed to let each other roam if they wish, and since they've both got elven blood, I can also see them with Vharl.

Brotp: Vharloth x Karlach. Vharlach, if you will. Vharl gravitates towards people with a positive mindset, since he himself is actively fighting to allow optimism into his own life, so he'd probably enjoy spending time with her. There wouldn't be romantic feelings from his side, though, since he only feels those towards other elves or half-elves.

Notp: Probably a good few, but the most obvious one is Vharloth x Minthara. Being not only a female drow, but also a Paladin of Lolth just like he himself used to be, he'd be terrified that she'd make an attempt to take him back to the Underdark and have him punished for his insubordination, to a point he'd refuse to stay with the group if she was part of it.

B A C K S T O R Y

I don't have his full story developed, but here have some facts about him that I do know for sure - in no particular order.

He's the firstborn child of a rather well-respected family, but not of noble background.

He used to have a younger sister. She was his everything, but she was killed during an attack at a social event hosted by one of the high houses, which he was also present at. His parents never forgave him for failing to save her, and neither did he.

After those events, he was pretty much disowned by his family, and eventually ended up enslaved under another matriarch.

"His one redeeming quality," as his parents often stated, was that he was talented with the sword, which led to his mistress sending him into coliseum fights for the upper class's entertainment, and eventually he was encouraged to swear the Oath to Lolth. He didn't keep it out of true conviction though, but for the fear of consequences.

For almost his entire life, he's secretly dreamed of a life on the surface. The only person he ever told about this was his sister, whom he used to have a close bond to.

Having made it to the surface now, he's in a strange mental place, having bouts ranging from internal emptiness, to radical longing for any sort of experience for experience's sake.

A quote of his is: "I'd rather go blind from seeing the sun just once, than never getting to see it."

At some point in the future, he will renew his oath, but this time he'll swear it to Lathander, and this time, he'll mean it.

#Tristan talks #My OCs #OC meme #Vharloth Zal'arin #He's my edgy trauma baby #In the middle of his character development arc #And I love him to pieces

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nightingaleflow · 4 months

Note

Hi! Happy New Years! I had a question, if you don't mind: What are pro- and antishippers? I've tried to find some explanations but they were a bit confusing....

I hope you have a great year ahead!

Happy New Year to you too, anon!

A proshipper is someone who is "pro" - or "for" - shipping. That is, someone who is in favor of letting people ship whatever they ship, regardless of what they themselves are into. This includes ships that are viewed as "problematic" such as ships with large age gaps or nonconsensual situations. This doesn't mean you have to ship everything - no one does - but it does mean you take responsibility for your own fandom experience and avoid or block things that make you uncomfortable.

Conversely, an antishipper is the opposite - "anti", or "against" - shipping. That is, they believe that any ship deemed problematic should not be shipped by anyone, and by extent, these ships should also not be drawn or written by anyone. They tend to be pro-censorship, expect people to cater to their tastes and wishes, and tend to target creatives and proshippers for harassment.

Just so it's clear, I'm proship, and very very anti-censorship. Thus, as I'm sure you can imagine, I take a dim view of anti rhetoric.

I hope this helps, anon, and feel free to drop by again if you have further questions. <3

#ask nightingale #anon #proship #proshipper #proshipper safe

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twinksintrees · 1 year

Text

Finally got my Lark Oak character playlist breakdown done, hope y’all enjoy.

Fair warning it is long and sad, cw for mentions of sexual assault in the song cut corners on short walks

a link to the playlist for those interested ^^

We are the kids: I think I found this one on someone else’s Lark playlist and I think it really fits him. “We are the kids that you never can kill” is what Lark thinks of himself and the other s1 kids. And the bit that’s like “i rip holes in my shirt/there’s mud on my shoes/there’s sun on my skin/i am brand new” really represents his chaotic youthful nature and just really speaks to him as a kid. “We howl at the moon” is him and Sparrow because you know for a fact they howled at the moon together because hashtag love wolf am i right.

Always gold: sad brother song !! this one’s just about like brothers growing apart and being all angsty and sad and i thought it fit. “You would kill for me/and I knew that I'd do the same” is a very Oak twins attitude. Technically the song would be from Sparrow’s perspective with the lines “we were opposites at birth/i was steady as a hammer/no one worried cuz they knew just where i’d be/and they said you were the crooked kind” i think these lines really just demonstrate the difference between the two brothers, but more importantly the difference in how everyone else viewed the two especially after the rogue card was drawn. Everyone views Lark as ‘the crooked one’ ‘the angry one’ ‘the problem twin’ meanwhile Sparrow gets swept in the shadow and no one worries or thinks too much of him, because he’s ‘easier’ to deal with than Lark is. Also all the lyrics about everything leaving and dying and then the other person being like “i’ll always be here for you’ is Very Lark vs Sparrow energy. Lark is pessimistic and angry and Sparrow, for better or for worse, will always welcome him in. no matter what atrocities he commits along the way.

Used to the darkness: the sound of this one just felt very Lark to me. The heavy, dark sound suits him well I think. Also the title, he’s been through so much and has been used to fighting and killing and all sorts of other shit since he was like 13 in the forgotten realms, the dude’s absolutely used to the darkness, if you will.

I was just a kid: “i was just a kid/i needed answers/i pulled the trigger/and nothing happened” Lark was just a kid when he stabbed his father. He was just a sad angry kid, manipulated into making a bad decision. He ‘pulled the trigger’ and let the doodler loose. A mistake he will work tirelessly to fix.

The devil you know: this one just fucking BOPS. pretty much the only reason this one’s on here is because of nark/Nicky. Kind of a cute little ship song for them ig.

Icarus: gotta be honest i just really like this song and it has similar Vibes as Lark in my head, i don’t have much concrete evidence for why this one fits Lark. The lyrics ‘icarus is flying too close to the sun” can be read as like, Lark throwing himself into fights against the doodler/other monsters in a wreckless attempt to make himself feel better for causing the end of the world, kinda.

I wanna be your slave: straight up nark. This song just screams nark to me. It works both ways in my mind, it could be about either of them.

Discord: So replace ‘discord’ with ‘doodler’ and I think it applies pretty well to Lark and his view of the world in season 2 especially.

Broken man: this one doesn’t go much further than Lark Oak is uh…a pretty broken man, if you will.

Liar: I added this one while I was still pretty early in season 2, around episode 5/6 when Lark and Sparrow were under the influence of the doodler question mark ? and now honestly I think it applies to Sparrow more. “I’m not in the right state of mind/I just wish I had the strength to admit it” is pretty straight forwardly about Lark not being in the right state of mind at the dance, when he and Sparrow are under the doodler’s influence. It can also have a double meaning and be about his teenage years, where he’s not in the right state of mind and blinded by rage and hurt and confusion and self hatred from stabbing his dad and blaming himself and wanting to fix his mistakes and all of that spiraling out of control. “My stubbornness will put up a fight/but i don't deserve to win it” is just more of Lark’s self hatred and thinking he deserves everything bad coming to him. “I’m left in the dark pondering my mistakes/in the light i swear i will/deny it all” Lark has so many insecurities and anger and hurt within him, but all of that will stay firmly locked in his head, he’s not going to tell ANYONE anything. He’s not letting anyone in, he’ll deny it all. “I am the host of this hostility” is more just of just Lark feeling bad. “My life’s become this grand game of deception/my mind’s ignored all my heart’s good intentions” is Lark as an adult kind of looking back on his choices, regretting what he had to do with swapping the realms, and (this isn't really canon but) kind of missing Nicky, missing what they used to have and stuff. “We all feel this tension/we all have our own illusions” is the entire Oak-Garcia family, all feeling the tension between Lark and Henry and not knowing how to deal with it. And then in the outro how it repeats the chorus but with the use of ‘our’ feels like it could be about the Oak-Garcia family as a whole.

An honest mistake: first off, this one bops, second, this one’s also pretty much on here for the title, Lark was like, a small teenager when he stabbed his dad, and he was manipulated into doing it by Willy, so like, while it is his fault he started the apocalypse and unleashed the doodler, it’s also kinda not? It’s complicated. Regardless, it’s on here for Lark’s regret and y’know, all of that. “My old friends/i swear i never meant for this” is Lark talking directly to the other s1 kids. That’s pretty much it for this one.

You’re gonna go far kid: this one really speaks too and sounds like a manifestation of Lark’s anger. He’s angry and frustrated and the pure aggression behind the words “now dance fucker dance” really represents that well i think. “I never had a chance/and no one even knew it was really only you” speaks to Lark thinking he only has himself/him not trusting others. Also ‘i never had a chance’ is really specifically about the rogue card and Henry. He never had a chance of a happy relationship with his father because of the rogue card’s prediction, but also he never really stood a chance of turning out ‘normal’ or whatever just sort of based on Henry and Mercedes’s parenting style and also Henry’s own daddy issues really affecting how he parented his own children.

Polarize: no one judge for having twenty one pilots on one of my character playlist’s when the lyrics “i wanted to be a better brother, better son” apply so perfectly. “Wanted to be a better adversary to the evil i have done” is also very Lark, it represents his thoughts about the doodler and how he wishes he could finally, actually defeat it. “My friends and I we've got a lot of problems” speaks to the s1 kids and how they’ve been left with their parents' mess. The chorus of “deny, deny, denial” also feels very Lark to me.

Cut corners on short walks: I know this one sounds very different compared to the other songs on this playlist but the lyrics are too perfect to leave it off. I mean, the very beginning lines “the sour substances that make up my hind brain/have slowly become stagnant and i have surely become insane/and the anger i feel in my veins/has stopped pouring out of the hole in my face” already connect so deeply with Lark when i think about them. The ‘sour substances’ that make up the hind brain is I'm assuming intended to be about mental illness or something similar, but in the case of Lark and the Oaks in general I interpret that as the doodler, sitting idle in the Oak’s brains and bodies, waiting for a chance to surface. “Broken by 14 with no chance for absolution” is Lark going through everything he did and being so traumatized and hurt by the time he’s 14. By the time he’s 14 he’s already stabbed his father and everyone knows and there’s no coming back from that, it is a bloodstain on his history. “We were searching for joy with apophatic conclusions/we started savoring apathy and all of our bruises” Lark was a very happy child. He and his brother did everything together, they had great loving parents, they had everything they wanted and needed. Then they get taken to the realms. And then Lark isn’t so happy anymore. “We used to be so pure, so fragile and raw” is Lark mourning the loss of his and his friends innocence and childhood in the realms. “Well out of the flames we reclaimed our decay/and the world became a stage, complete chaotic, how we played” could be about the s1 kids being left with the ruins and decay of the world their parents left behind. The world becoming a stage is like the doodler being unleashed, everything is loose and chaotic now. The rest of the song, the bit about experiencing sexual assault and then the end being about healing i don’t think really apply to Lark in particular because frankly i don’t think either of those things happen to him.

No children: “i hope that our few remaining friends/give up on trying to save us” I mean. That line is pretty straight forward. Lark doesn’t have much hope for the future, he just wants people to stop caring, stop trying with him. It won’t work. “I hope we come up with a fail safe plot/to piss off the dumb few that forgave us” is Lark talking about Henry. He thinks Henry still loving him and forgiving him is stupid, he doesn’t understand why Henry hates him as much as he hates himself. “And I hope when you think of me years down the line/you can’t find one good thing to say” Lark’s self hatred. “And I’d hope that if I found the strength to walk out/you’d stay the hell out of my way” Lark hopes that if he left Sparrow wouldn’t follow. He knows he’s wrong.

Sometimes: credit to tumblr user @s-ccaam-era-crepe for this one, he has a breakdown of it for all of the dads but I thought it fit Lark especially. (Also it just Sounds very Lark to me so)

Screwing in a lightbulb: credit to tumblr user @s-ccaam-era-crepe for this one (ly scam <33)

Gun.: Everything about this one screams Lark to me. The sound, the lyrics, the fucking TITLE, it’s all perfect. My chemical romance is also just a very Lark band to me, conventional weapons especially (yes im projecting it’s fine). “Well as soon as i get my gun/i’ll point it out the window at the setting sun” can be about the black hole/doodler eye/sun. “As soon as i get my gun/i’ll tell you about it when you fall in love” is Lark talking to Sparrow, he’s always going to be focused on fighting the doodler, that’s always going to be his top priority. Sparrow meanwhile is going to try and build a normal life for himself, so lark will always be telling Sparrow about his fights and stuff while Sparrow is busy doing his own thing with his own life. “Well the uniform isn’t sewn/they make ‘em like we give ‘em out to anyone” can represent how D.A.D.D.I.E.S. isn’t an official organization, it’s just a bunch of dads and sons trying to fix what’s wrong. The uniform isn’t sewn because they don’t have uniforms, they're just guys trying their best. “Well if i’m old enough to die for your mistakes/then let’s go” this is very much teenage Lark to me. 17 y/o Lark feeling so sick and tired of his dad telling him to stay out of fights and keep himself safe, when Lark just wants to go out and get bloody and get in the heat of battle again. He’s already fought, already been through an insane amount of shit, he’s old enough to die for both his own and his father’s mistakes. And maybe a part of himself wants to. “Can I bleed enough to fill up what the engine takes/we don’t know” is along similar lines, Lark will do whatever it takes to make up for what he did, he will fight and bleed until he’s dead if it means the doodler will die. “But if you’re watching up above/they're teaching me to kill/who’s teaching me to love” is incredibly specific and maybe doesn’t fit with canon, but this is like, if Henry died and Lark is still angry with him, then that line is Lark speaking to Henry after he’s gone, like Lark is learning to kill and all this very violent stuff that he knows Henry doesn’t love, and he’s slowly like leaving behind his softer, open side of himself that Henry really did love and did his best to nourish. It’s also like, the phrasing of “who’s teaching me to love?” really hits because we the audience and Lark himself knows that Henry was the one who taught Lark to love, taught all this hippie dippie shit that he just left behind and completely abandons. “I’m never gonna have a son” is like, Lark won’t bring a new life into this broken world until he’s able to fix it. He’s never going to have a son, and it’s also like, he’s the only of the s1 kids who doesn’t have a kid so it speaks to that as well.

Six feet: I found this one on another Lark playlist and thought it went hard so I put it on mine. I think this one just speaks really clearly to Lark’s dedication to fight and fix the world. He’ll work himself to death to make things right. Also it just bops so.

Prologue: credit to tumblr user @s-ccaam-era-crepe for this one. (You can read Scam’s post analyzing all of the songs I took from him here)

I’m not angry anymore: I don't even have a good breakdown for this one it’s just THE Lark song to me. It’s everything. It’s pretty much just the title and the vibes of the song and everything, I can't even explain it that well.

Anti-hero: listen i'm sorry i put the new biggest taylor swift hit on my lark oak playlist but hear me out, it fits. Just read what @terrific-fish wrote when it dropped:

Nark song ^^ that is all <3

Brother: oooooooh my god this one hurts me. Imagine Lark leaving to go off and try to plan and take down the doodler, the mission or whatever is unsuccessful and goes bad, and he arrives at Sparrow’s doorstep out of nowhere, because he knows his brother will always take him in. Sparrow will sit with him and listen and bring him down from whatever self hate and doubt and everything in his head that he's going through. He’d patch up any physical injuries Lark has as well. “Remember when you and I would make things up?/so many nights, just take me down/to the place we can hear them play/i miss that sound/cuz no we don’t sing so loud” is Lark wishing to go back to his and Sparrow’s childhood, before the realms and before the rogue card and before all the hurt and anger. He wants to be carefree and happy again. He misses it.

Brother: well. Going to be honest I didn't really have a good reason for this song to be here aside from the title, but going over the lyrics I have a truly tragic reading and interpretation for it. “Oh brother of mine/it’s been a long long time/since i’ve seen my face in your eyes” is Lark and Sparrow getting older and while they will always look like each other because, y’know, twins, as they grow older they develop more of their own sense of style and expression and change their looks a bit. Sparrow grows his hair long and shaves his face. He looks just like his father. Lark doesn’t have the patience to shave and so his beard is messy and unruly, but in a cool hot way. He looks nothing like his father. “I left you alone in a house not a home” is Lark tearing the Oak-Garcia home apart with his hatred of Henry. Mercedes and Sparrow don’t know what to do, Henry is in shambles, and Lark is just so, so angry. Sparrow becomes the middleman, facilitating Lark’s hatred while never speaking against him, never telling him how much it hurts to have the people he loves unable to speak with each other. “Brother i watched the sky burn/and all i learned was smoke fills the lungs like a disease” i think this is Lark learning that like, hurt and violence don’t only have to be physical? Like, he learns that words can cut just as much as knives. The ‘smoke’ can hurt just as much as the fire, just in a different way. He watches as words and social norms slowly kill his brother, as Sparrow inhales so much smoke it kills him and beats him down. “Oh brother i confess/there is little of me left that could care about dowsing the wildfire” is Lark losing so much of himself in anger that only the smallest part of himself cares about his father anymore. He can’t bring himself to forgive him but he misses him so much and everything hurts.

#lark oak #dndads #dndads s2 #dungeons and daddies #henry oak #sparrow oak #mercedes oak garcia #dungeons and daddies s2 #lark oak garcia #character analysis

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takasgf · 8 months

Note

12 and 15 for the self insert ask? :3c

Hewwo Wishi... this ask is from april and was supposed to be answered in an audio file but I'm almost never home alone so I cant record myself talking >_> thank you so much for sending it, I'll write the replies for Frogeru !! ʚ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ɞ

12. how would the fandom view your character?

Knowing them, they might reduce her character to a meme or her ship with Ishi. In the worst possible universe she becomes one of those ms paint drawn moe anime girls working at mcdonalds or whatever (examples come to mind...konata osaka lain etc). But realistically I wish she'd remain dr fandom exclusive. Frogeru DO NOT go mainstream, worst mistake of your life. I keep going on tangents, im sorry. The fandom would be very divided - those who defend and love her (and Ishi) with their life and those who are stupid 😆 just kidding. She's a more watered down version of Hiyoko, she's a lot nicer to those who deserve it, but she doesn't refrain from mean remarks and behaviour towards her other classmates. She would be so damn popular in the cosplay part of the community, akin to Ibuki. I'm still very proud of her design and she looks super fun to cosplay and add personal design headcanons to. And I think she'd be one of the choices for that aesthetically pleasing type of fanart that some artists who only draw like 3 dr girls (chiaki, kaede and junko/kiri) do

I actually think her and Ishi would be a pretty popular ship, definitely their most popular (since I change the story quite a bit in their universe so that Ishi doesnt befriend you-know-who). It might be one of the "basic" ships if thats a thing (like...those who get drawn by literally everyone and are generally accepted by the community; but thats not a bad thing at all😼). They have the appropriate amount of sweetness and angst (not in between them, just the context is angsty) in canon, so they;d have lots of fans, shipping AMVs/PMVs, official art and matching merch <3

15. how does your self insert play a role in the plot of the story? do they help directly defeat the villain, support the heroes, etc.?

I FORGOT ALL THE DR LORE UNRELATED TO MY FAVES SO UH... IDK... I dont think she'd contribute much to the actual plot, but she does have her own super complex side-story, accompanied by a bunch of random characters that get mentioned by name once and appear in a background frame in that damn anime (not "the animation", but like the actual anime i never watched) but still have niche tumblr ask blogs about them. of course she'd be on the side of hope, but she's got more important stuff to care about. like taka's favourite color or how to shave her brother's hair off while he sleeps

#i hate how familiar i am with the fandom that im able to so vividly see how frogeru would be perceived #secret frogeru lore

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transhawks · 1 year

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Oh I didn’t realize you were asking for ship names too, I was trying to read the posts in order, well then!! This is fun, you’re giving in haha :D Funny story, remember how we thought “Dark Fallen Angel” Tokoyami’s supermove was foreshadowing for Hawks? Well ShigaHawks might have transcendent young god/angel/messenger vibes, AfoHawks has similar, he’s made a lot of godlike poses and is even wearing Greek robes, but it’s also a bit of a demon x angel thing, but a judgement angel. I always imagine AFO wishes he could've found Hawks as a kid because he would've made the perfect little trophy, the perfect Nomu to stand by his side, he's smart and fast and if AFO gave him his mom's quirk? He'd be obsessed with a biblical accurate angel Hawks, and the fact that Ujiko calls AFO the buddha and Keigo means enlightenment, I'm so sorry Rani you are getting dragged into this pit whether you like it or not and I love you for indulging us 😔✊😆🥺 we can always count on you, like during our Compressoe days.

UGH I FORGOT ABOUT THE BUDDHA THING THAT'S EVEN WORSE!!!

I actually adore the shoutouts to Buddhism that Keigo's name gives us. I have a friend really into zen buddhism/often goes to a monastery and had to grill them about enlightenment in the buddhist view and just try to see if anything they expressed about it would hit on Keigo's personality/narrative. I haven't really found much yet. It's a work in progress because Buddhism and all its branches and thought are very complicated.

And yes, there's a lot of greco-roman aesthetic when it comes to All For One. I also want to argue his robes are a shout to Adrian Veidt/Ozymandias of Watchmen, but as I was rereading today I kept thinking how much All For One fits that ideal Hellenistic Body. He's drawn a bit differently, I think, from other characters, like All Might, and there's something very "statue-like" about the way he's built.

So, with his mom's quirk - I have theories on what she does, and like I have a feeling much like a lot of the League unlocked parts of their quirk, we might have that with Keigo if he loses his mind, and maybe all the angel allusions we've been getting via Tomie go somewhere. At the same time, I think there's just so much there to pull from.

Sigh, I hate being in this pit. At least you guys are in there with me.

#asks #afohawks

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silver-heller · 10 months

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Speaking of ships...

I am curious how you view the situation with Serafine and Mordecai, since your Mordecai has different experiences and therefore perspectives. So, I'd be interested in how he'd view that situation (being a fan myself and finding it of interest).

@mrslitmus

I think the huge difference can be summed up with; Silver's fake death changes a lot.

In the original comic, Mordecai was fired up by Atlas' death, and I personally headcanon Mordecai is at the Marigold to try and figure out what happened to Atlas. Atlas was so important to him and ultimately haunted his life both when he was living and in his death (I have rambled about their relationship in other places, so, I'll leave it at that. The added complexities in his relationship with Atlas is definitely a factor as well though). Meaning not only was Mordecai mourning, but he was pissed off and wanted revenge, something Serafine ultimately mocks and seems to lead to him hating her.

But, placing Silver's death before that, while it doesn't change the fact Mordecai still wants those things, makes Mordecai a lot more lost. That relationship meant so much to him, to the point he found himself seeking more independence from Atlas, an act he was originally hesitant over. Without Silver, that's suddenly drawn into question. He does what he thinks he should, but he's not fired up, his heart is not in it, he doesn't even know if it's the right thing to do.

He suddenly has independence, yet he is using it to continue to be right under Atlas' paw and, deep down, I don't think that entirely sits right with him. Especially when it goes directly against Silver's wishes, who was always terrified Mordecai would just become a clone of Atlas and, in a way, Mordecai is extremely conflicted, because respecting the memory of these two people in his life contradict one another. In this sense, Silver is very symbolic of change, of Mordecai opening up and finally going in his own direction (something Serafine builds off of), while Atlas is very symbolic of keeping the status quo, if not amplifying it, with Mordecai becoming the detached, cold businessman Atlas was due to all his grief.

Then, with Serafine and Nico seeing the weakest part of him while he's in this limbo (discovering the wedding wing he planned to give to Silver), Mordecai reveals, and repeats several times how he really feels, which is, "it doesn't matter". In this timeline, the worst thing has already happened to Mordecai. He lost both the loves of his life in different ways, along with his mentor, a rather polarizing figure but one he still did love (platonically) in the end, and believes it's all his fault. Nothing Serafine can do truly be hurtful at this point, no pain will compare to all the loss he has experienced at this point.

So yes, at first he's definitely pissed but, after that fades, he's practically begging to have someone unravel the secrets he's kept inside all these years and understand him. This is a task Serafine is happy to do, what she did proving to Mordecai she can take it, and she sees his sentimentality as more of a positive now that it is no longer a threat to her.

Plus, probably best to keep in mind Serafine and Silver are pretty similar in a lot of ways. Considering Silver almost, accidentally clawed Mordecai's face once in a panic, and Mordecai has seen Silver do far worse to their victims, what Serafine did or does is pretty mild in comparison. Serafine is overall a bit more "sane" and "down to Earth" than Silver is, which ultimately makes Mordecai less fussed about what happened. He views it as a failed strategic move on Serafine's part and nothing more.

Thanks for asking, this was fun to talk about and helped me put things into perspective!

#humdinger👔#getoyou🔥#watchinyoudance💘

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collette4491021 · 3 months

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Do Your Local Water Sources Dry Up Or Freeze?

On Nov. 26, four days before the shooting, the boy’s father took him to a gun store and purchased him a handgun as an early Christmas present. On the morning of the taking pictures, prosecutors say a trainer found an image he had drawn with pictures of a gun, a capturing victim and a laughing emoji, with the phrases "Blood everywhere" and "The thoughts won’t stop. Crumbley was faraway from the category and sent to a steering counselor’s office, where he stated the drawing was a part of a video sport he was designing. His mother and father were summoned to the school and informed to send their son to counseling, however they allegedly resisted the idea and left him at the school. As news of the taking pictures broke, prosecutors mentioned, Jennifer Crumbley texted her son: "Ethan don’t do it." But it surely was too late. Many gun management proponents and commentators see promise in McDonald’s approach.

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The true-time mapping drones aren't really that helpful, but the special effects are cool. Thus far, there is not any technique to make an invisible shield that fends off various weapons. Current synthetic-intelligence applied sciences are rudimentary compared to J.A.R.V.I.S. The entire idea of the PASIV device in "Inception" seems confusing and creepy. With one push of a button, the machine erases labeled deeds from witnesses' minds. All the ability in the photo voltaic system. All the power of the solar. All the power on Earth. Time travel may require all the power of the sun. Unless physicists find a workaround, theoretical time journey will guzzle too much power to be useful. It's manufactured from steel. It's vulnerable to germs. It's an old USB 2.Zero connection. An open hole that lets in micro organism and viruses by the billions looks like a quick approach to die. They'll predict a person's future illnesses.

It sounds loads just like the Super Soakers we know right this moment, except that the pressure tank was motorized separate from the gun, related by a bit of tubing. The batteries to maintain the motor running had been quite costly, so it wasn't the ideal toy. Finally, in 1989, the first Super Soaker was released. The mannequin, the brainchild of mechanical and nuclear engineer Lonnie Johnson, was several years within the making. It all started in 1982 when Johnson had an thought to make a excessive-efficiency water Orbi Gun. He was working as a spacecraft engineer for the Galileo Jupiter mission on the time. While doing a little work on a heat pump that used water, he took the pump home and started playing around with it in his bathroom sink. He found that the pump may shoot water, and the stream of water was extra highly effective than any squirt gun he'd seen. Rather than have a motorized pump, Johnson developed an arm-powered pump like the one you understand at this time.

"All of us youngsters played with toy guns and didn’t turn into criminals," says Schleyer, who lives in Burke, "and now it’s hastily taboo even to level your finger like a gun. As a child on Long Island, he and his buddies took their trusty sidearms out on safari or onto the battlefield or into the alleys in the hunt for a infamous gangster, all without straying off their block. "You by no means got killed, you bought winged," he recalls. They’d take their guns to the motion pictures and shoot on the screen together with Roy Rogers and Gene Autry. As Schleyer received older, his fantasy play morphed into admiration for the workmanship within the guns, the inlaid ivory, the tremendous metalwork, the crisp sounds they produced. "Sometimes they were more sophisticated than the actual factor," he says. In more recent years, he’s been invited to display a few of his prized possessions at native libraries, only to have parents complain "that I was encouraging kids to shoot and kill," he says.

Rainbow Six Siege Corpse, Basic Lauryn, Miami Country Day School Expensive for kind of gun Hero of the Month

Do you remember which present was only supposed to function a "three-hour tour," or which collection started each episode with "The Ballad of Jed Clampett?" Know which '60s Tv theme took viewers alongside down a set of train tracks to the junction, or introduced them to a creepy and kooky bunch of characters? If so, you might need what it takes to ace this quiz on '60s Tv theme songs! The 1960s was a pretty nice decade for music. Bands like the Beatles and Rolling Stones pumped out pop and rock hits, Motown dominated R&B, and The Beach Boys were full of excellent vibrations. It's no surprise then that this musical genius was also prevalent throughout the theme songs of Tv exhibits all through the decade. To grasp why '60s theme songs have been so memorable, however, you not solely have to look on the music being made on the time but in addition how much the television theme song changed from the earlier decade.

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zoros-bandana · 2 years

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Hello! I'm loving your writing! I hope you don't mind this is my first request! Can i get a scenario where Sabo fell in love with a fem crewmember of the strawhat pirates? make the fem crewmember a tsundere tho pls? thankies! And keep up the good work!

Hi lovely thank you so much! I am not overly sure how you envisioned this request but I saw it as sort of a confession type post so I hope that's alright :)

Hot and Cold

(SFW)

Warning: swearing

Summary: After being apart of your crew for a while, Sabo finally tracks you down to confess his feelings

Word Count: 1,200

________________________________________

His large blue eyes sweetly watched you across the room; intended to approach you that night and admit his feelings for you. You pretended to ignore him, turning away to your crew members who shielded you from his gaze.

When he had first met you he was instantly bewitched.

You on the other hand were not so convinced.

He stuck around your crew far longer than you wished, his actions so soft and alluring to appease you. He was proud of his progress, knowing you had eased up around him more than when you had first met; now it was up to him to seal it once and for all.

———————————————

“And this is (y/n)” Luffy beamed, finishing his introduction of his crew to his older brother. Sabo’s eyes delicately floated over you all before landing on you; an enchanting smile gracing his lips.

He glided over to you, gently wrapping his hand in your own, his body standing close over your own. “A true pleasure to meet with you, beautiful”. His eyes were kind; you could see that. But you also didn’t want to fold so easily for a blond man engaging in eye contact. Heck, you would’ve fallen for the cook if this was the case.

You yanked your hand away from his, wiping it on your pant leg in disgust “unfortunately I can’t say the same…”

He stayed unfazed at your response, your toughness only intriguing him more, laughing at your unpredictable answer. As you stepped away from him, turning away to face your crew, he couldn’t help feel drawn to you; eager to break down the walls you built around your heart.

———————————————

You huddled yourself in between the surgeon and swordsman, hoping they would both be big enough to block the blue eyes that followed you. You were aware they had been following you all night; watching as you avoided him at any chance you could. Afraid what would happen if you spoke to him.

Both of the men blocking you knew about the sweet spot you had for the blond, teasing your tsundere antics towards him.

“Just admit that you like him…” Zoro grumbled, taking a swig from his drink “this game you’ve got going on is annoying… I just want to be left alone…”

“Shut up!” You smacked him on the head “all you have to do is sit there!”

Law exhaled sharply, amused by your need to stay hidden from Sabo; knowing your game as much as anyone else did. “Why did you drag us into this, (y/n)?” He questioned, moving aside to let a clear view of you between the boys be seen. You yelped, ducking behind Zoro, appreciating his stubbornness to move away.

“Because” you lowered your voice “if you hadn’t noticed… you’re 6 feet tall and he’s 6 feet wide; the perfect combination to shield me”.

“Oi!” Zoro snapped, moving aside much like the surgeon. You regrettably looked up, meeting the pair of blue eyes you were trying to desperately to avoid; watching as Sabo made a bee line towards where you sat.

“Crap” you mumbled, rising from your feet.

“Where are you going?” Law retorted “I thought we were the perfect combination to shield you?”

“May have changed my mind” you mumbled, walking towards the door.

Your steps picked up as you heard the sound of footsteps running behind you; his voice softly calling you. “(Y/n)! Wait, please”.

You ignored his pleas, weaving through the ships doors, attempting to lose him.

However, Sabo refused to give up.

And you knew he would.

You hated to admit it but you enjoyed how persistent he was with you; you never experienced this kind of consistency with anyone before. He wasn’t thrown off by your brush antics or aloof appearance. He was drawn to you far more than anyone you had ever encountered and the result of giving in to him terrified you.

His hand gripped into your arm stopping you from continuing, his frame encompassing you up against the wall blocking you in. His body pressed close to you, his breath ragged and shaken from chasing you around. “Please” he huffed, his hand slipping around your waist “just listen to me, please”.

You scoffed back your own shaken breath “why? Why would I want to listen to you? Leave me alone!”

You attempted to shuffle from his grip, his arms only wrapping tighter around you “let go of me!”

“Fine” he sighed “if you won’t listen to me I’ll just show you”.

“No! Sabo just let g-”

His lips found their way to yours easily, cutting you off from your words. Your breath hitched in your throat, shocked at his action but not overly surprised. His lips were soft and careful, wrapping around you so delicately like it was a dream, moulding so perfectly against you. He tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss; not minding as you stood there in shock against him.

Your hands shook, creeping their way up to circle around his neck, your eyes finally shutting as you gave in. He smirked against you, pulling you closer up to him, holding you as if you were made of glass. His lips parted open, gently prompting you to do the same; his tongue folding into your mouth exploring your cave. His hand slowly side to your face, cupping your cheek as he pulled away, satisfied by your response as he kissed you.

“I knew you felt the same…” he mumbled, pressing his lips to your forehead “I knew that you loved me back…”

You gasped hearing his words, looking up at him with wide eyes; disbelieving what you heard. His other hand met your cheek, both hands gently cupping your face closer to him; his eyes watching you carefully. Your throat felt dry as you spoke; tears pricking at your eyes.

“You love me?”

“That’s right, (y/n); I love you”

You sniffled back your tears, shaking your head; projecting your voice as bitter as you could. “You idiot! Why?”

You stepped away from him, taking your chance to distance yourself from him “you can’t just say something like that to me”.

“Because you’re everything to me that I never knew I needed; and I can’t live without”

“That doesn’t make any sense” you spat “you lived perfectly fine before you joined my captain”

“Well don’t make me go back to living that way, (y/n)! I can’t now I know you exist!”

“And what makes you think I want that?”

“You kissed me back” he stepped towards you again, gripping your arms “I know you want this, too”.

“It was a mistake, Sabo! I wish it never happened”

“You don’t mean that” he seemed unfazed, seeing right through your words “I know you don’t. You always have acted like you don’t care about anything or anyone but I know you do. You care about me, I know it; don’t try and deny your feelings”

You huffed, looking away from him; needing to clear your head. You hated he was right. No matter how cold you were he would try his best to melt your walls; succeeding every time. He was gentle to you for reasons that still baffled you; but maybe that was for the best. He didn’t wish for reason to love you; he just did. And knowing that may just be enough to accept his love.

“You’re an idiot…”

“Yes” he smiled, pulling you into him “but I’m your idiot”

#doves requests #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece sfw #sabo #sabo x reader #sabo x you #sabo x y/n #sabo scenario #sabo imagine #sabo sfw

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