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eleteo125 · 7 months

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"Be Mine or You Will Burn"

Rollo x GN!Reader

AN: Me and my friend are Rollo fans and they've inspired me to write this idea out 🤣

You were simply just walking around admiring the scenery of Noble Bell where you went back to the cathedral to appreciate the artistry of the stain glass. Each panel depicting how Judge Claude Frollo and his accomplishments.

Rollo, the school’s student council president has welcomed the NRC students by giving them a tour but his obvious disdain for magic users made it clear that he was rushing to get the tour done as fast as possible to get away from them. Heck you would even bet that the only reason he was able to get through the whole tour was because he only set his attention towards you barely minding the other guests. He sometimes casts a watchful eye on them but other than that he doesn’t particularly engage with them compared to you.

With those signs in display, everyone from NRC has come to the conclusion that them being invited here has an ulterior motive to it. Briefly shaking those thoughts from your mind, you admired the lights coming through the different colored windows surrounding you in a colorful halo.

My what a beautiful sight indeed.

Magic wielder or not, you’re still a student from NRC so of course Rollo has kept a close eye on you when freely strolling around the school. But he can’t help the fact that you’re devoid of any magic at all has him deeply fascinated. And to think to mingle around those…ahem.

Do not be fooled he’s only keeping watch of you because he can tell that everyone from NRC are quite attached to you especially that dragon fae. What better way to keep them in check when he has you close and in his clutches.

Walking towards you he silently stood in behind you. He held in a small chuckle as he saw you’re awestruck face looking at the beautiful work of art. “Impressed?”

Jumping a little bit in surprise, you quickly looked behind to see him “O-oh! Yes, I haven’t seen a stained glass window in person before, just through pictures.” You confessed

“Hmph of course such beauty is painstakingly crafted by hand of course you won’t see a lot of it. Craftsmanship that took people’s skill and talent with no assistance from cheap tricks everyone reveres.” He spits

“Magic?”

Rollo stayed silent at your question.

You decide to let go of the subject with his sudden silence. Instead you walked closer to the window to admire the small details. It was such detailed you can’t even imagine how long it would take to finish such a large piece.

Too lost in thought, you started to reach your hand out to the window but you’re once again surprised when you felt a strong grip around your wrist.

You were about to apologize but instead freeze up when you felt him step closer behind you. You tried to step forward to get some distance since you’re starting to get flustered at our position but realized that you don’t have much space to move in since you’re very close to the window.

“I’m sorry but those were just cleaned by the careful hands of our cleaners hands off please.” He whispered in your ear.

You shuddered at his closeness and the sensation of him speaking carefully so close to your ear. “I-I understand.” You stuttered while unconsciously leaning into his ‘embrace’.

He seems to have lost himself also since he buried his nose in your hair while his other hand rubbed your free arm.

You two stayed like that for who knows how long just basking in each other’s contact. “Why not transfer here, I can tell how ‘generous’ the headmaster is in your current school.”

“I can’t” you managed to mumble out after almost melting at the close soud of his voice yet again.

“You’re surrounding yourself with magic that is as deadly as fire.”

You leaned closer “Fire can be useful too.” You whispered

You felt his sigh in your ear and your knees almost gave up but he held you up when he sensed you were about to fall.

“Consider it.” He kissed behind your ear “Be mine or you will burn.

He carefully let you go after making sure you won’t collapse to your knees before walking put and leaving you under colorful light.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #rollo flamme x reader #rollo flamm #twst rollo #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #rollo flamme

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cozage · 1 month

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The Moss that Grew in Gloom

Chapter 7: Day One

Start From Beginning | Next Chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Word Count: 3.5k Characters: female reader x Zoro --

When you awoke, Zoro was on the mat in the corner, his back leaned against the wall. He was snoring softly, and you found yourself smiling at him and his disposition. He seemed so comfortable in his own skin; you had to admire that about him.

You shook the thoughts from your head and walked into your bathroom to prepare for the day. You weren’t supposed to be praising him. Cold as ice, just like your father. It was only three days. Once your father was back, Roronoa would fall back into line. It was better to call him Roronoa. It was less personal; it didn’t allow for any doors to be opened. It was better.

After having a few moments in the bathroom to center yourself, you felt prepared to take on the day.

That feeling immediately vanished when you opened the door and found Zoro beginning to wake from his sleep. You considered trying to silently dart out the door, but his eyes squinted open and those stormy eyes found yours instantly.

Cold as ice, just as your father. What would he say in this situation?

You stood a little taller and cleared your throat. “I suppose you didn’t even bother to try and return to your bedroom last night?”

Your words didn’t affect him at all. He simply let out a half smile. “I wanted to be here when you woke up so I could tell you.” His hand turned a dark metallic color. “Almost a full hour last night. I didn’t want to wake you. Figured you could use the rest.”

You bit back a smile. You were proud of him and his progress. But your father rarely let his emotions show, and you would only survive these next two days if you kept the distance he did.

You gave a sharp nod. “Very well. We can continue with the next steps after breakfast.”

The surprise in his face made your chest ache. But he quickly recovered, and so did you. You walked out of the room to head down to the dining room, not looking back to see if Zoro was following you.

As you got closer to the main level, the smell of bread, eggs, and bacon floated up the stairwell, making your stomach rumble.

“Can’t believe you’re hungry after last night,” Zoro joked as he quickly caught up to you. “I’m still stuffed.”

“I recommend you try to eat something,” you said cooly. “We will be out for a while today.”

“So you’re going to help me push haki into blades?”

You scowled, mimicking your father when you had asked him that same question years ago. “Not quite.”

You could feel Zoro’s irritation rise behind you. “I thought you said-”

“You will be practicing, but not with something so dangerous or precious as blades.”

You could feel his glare on you, but you didn’t look at him. You let the smell of food be your only guide.

The dining table was set lavishly, but only for three. Your father must’ve told Perona of his departure before he had left.

“Perona!” you gasped. “This is exquisite!”

She beamed at your words. “I figured we might as well go all out since that old meanie isn’t here right now!”

“You’ve certainly outdone yourself,” you complimented. “Did you pick those flowers from the gardens?”

“Sure did!”

There was a stark contrast between the pink flowers she had gathered and the black flowers, but you didn’t comment on it.

The food was well prepared, too. If you hadn’t known better, you would have assumed your father had made it.

“Mihawk has been teaching me how to cook,” Perona noted as you all continued to eat. “I never liked being in the kitchen, but Mihawk said-”

“If you can’t cook, you can’t live,” you finished with her, smiling to yourself.

Perona wasn’t so bad in small increments. She was kind and she cared about those around her, even if she didn’t always have the best way of showing it.

“It’s a good skill to have,” Zoro agreed. You could tell he was trying to find some way to be included in the conversation.

“One you should learn,” you retorted. “You can use your armament haki while doing the dishes as training. Perona, feel free to make the water as hot as you need to. I’m releasing Roronoa to your care for the morning.” You shot him a quick look, trying to look as disapproving as your father. “I expect an edible meal for lunch.”

Zoro’s eye twitched. “You said you would-”

“This is part of your training,” you said, cutting him off. “Do it, or you will get no further help from me.”

You left the dining table then, walking briskly and confidently up the stairwell. You needed some time away from him, time to clear your head. It was the only way you’d make it through these next few days.

You settled in your all-too-familiar chair and picked up a book. A sense of normality would help make you feel more like yourself and be able to guard against the whims of Roronoa Zoro.

It was almost lunchtime before a knock came at your door. You started for a moment, thinking your father may have come home early, but that wasn’t the secret knock he had created. Your eyes flicked back down to your book, trying your best to ignore it.

The person knocked again.

“Come in,” you said, letting out a loud sigh.

Zoro opened the door, his eyes instantly finding yours. It was so easy to melt under his gaze, but you stiffened instead.

You raised an eyebrow in question, as if you were being inconvenienced.

“I’m done helping Perona,” he said. “Little witch had the water temperature at scalding levels, by the way. Thanks for that.”

Your eyes returned to the book. They had to, or else they would linger on him for too long. “Did you use haki to shield yourself like I asked you to?”

He nodded, trying to hide a scowl. “And helped Perona to prepare lunch. It’s ready now.”

“I’ll be down in a moment.” Your eyes stayed on the page, but you could see him lingering in the doorway. “Go without me.”

He hesitated as though he was going to say something, but then decided against it and shut the door without another word.

You descended the stairs a few minutes later after finishing the chapter of your book to find Perona sitting alone at the table.

“Finally! I’ve been waiting here forever! What took you all so long? I sent Zoro up like ten minutes ago!”

Your brow furrowed as you looked around the room, finding it empty. “I sent Zoro back down here ten minutes ago.” Roronoa, you corrected yourself silently. You were supposed to refer to him at Roronoa.

Perona huffed in frustration. “He’s always getting himself lost in this castle. Why can’t he ever find his way!”

You shrugged. “He’ll join us when he figures it out.”

You had to be cold. It was necessary for survival. But still, a part of you softened in realizing that he had found his way to your room with ease, if Perona’s timeline was correct. Perhaps that is why he was so hesitant to leave.

He had known how to get to you. Your heart involuntarily skipped a beat. Perhaps you should go looking for him and help him find his way back to lunch. But that’s not what your father would do, so you remained at your seat and began to eat lunch.

“How was his help this morning?” You asked Perona, trying to remain indifferent.

“He was more hurt than help in the kitchen!” She groaned, covering her face with her hands at the memory. “I started making more dirty dishes than I needed to just to keep him away from the food.”

You smiled at that. Zoro didn’t seem like the kind who would be any help with cooking. Perhaps you could assign him kitchen duty again, this time focusing on cutting vegetables uniformly. That would certainly keep both of them out of your hair and at each other’s throats for the rest of the day.

As if your thoughts summoned him, Zoro raced down the stairs, huffing and out of breath.

He gave you a glare. “How big is this damn castle?!”

You shrugged, suppressing a smile. “Big enough for you to get lost in. Though I believe that could be done with a two-bedroom cottage.”

Zoro’s eye twitched, but Perona let out a howl of laughter, and that made the cheap shot worth it.

“Eat.” You motioned to his seat. “We have work to do after lunch.”

“Don’t want to put me on kitchen duty again?” He grumbled, but he did as he was told.

“Would you like to be put on kitchen duty, Roronoa?”

He looked over at you, shocked with the formality you had given him, and studied your face for a long time. You almost looked away, but you kept your gaze fixed on him, waiting for a response.

“Please no!’ Perona cried. “I swear it’s more of a punishment for me than it is for him!”

You ignored her, watching Zoro intensely, waiting for a response.

“Whatever training you want me to do, I’ll do it,” he finally said, breaking eye contact and digging into his lunch.

“Then we will train in the courtyard after lunch to give Perona some reprieve.” You gave the bubble-gum haired girl a wink, and she let out a huge sigh of relief.

Zoro shot you a look of confusion, pausing mid bite. “I thought we would train at-”

“The courtyard.” You finished for him, adding a sense of finality that you knew he would not challenge. You couldn’t leave the grounds anyway. It wasn’t safe with your father gone.

After a rather quiet lunch, you sent Zoro to the courtyard to start warming up while you retreated to the training room. You picked up a few stuffed animals and retreated out of the room. He was never going to do this. You could see him starting a fight the moment you walked out the door. He didn’t understand that there was a process. But you would stand your ground, just as your father had with you.

You took a deep breath and walked into the courtyard. Zoro had already managed to work up a sweat and lose his shirt. He didn’t bother to stop what he was doing, but his eyes glanced over to you.

And then down to the teddy bears you were holding.

“Are you planning on making those things into scary monsters that I have to fight?”

You resisted the urge to banter back. “They are for training.”

“Scary.” He finished up his final set or workouts and sheathed his swords. “Can I only cut them if I have haki infused into my blades?”

You set the bears down on the cobblestone patio. “I want you to infuse them with haki.”

His eyes narrowed. “Is this some kind of joke to you?”

You flexed your jaw, trying to swallow back any emotion. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

His eyes flashed with hurt, but just for a moment. “Why do I have to do this?”

You stared at him for a moment, as if the answer were obvious. Your father did that to people a lot, and it seemed to be effective in making them second guess themselves. “Blades are easily breakable. Bears are not. If you infuse too much or too little, the bear will not break into a million pieces. But by all means, Roronoa, if you think you can go straight to swords, I will not stop you.”

You turned and began to walk away. He reached for you, and you quickly dodged away from him, turning back with fire in your eyes.

But he had fire in his eyes as well. “It’s Zoro. I told you to call me Zoro.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “You are my pupil, and you will be addressed as such. Blurred lines don’t help anyone.”

He scoffed. “You can’t be serious. What has gotten into you?”

“Nothing has gotten into me,” you hissed back. “You came here to train. So train.”

“You said you would help!”

“I am.” You turned away. “You won’t leave this island with broken blades now. You’re welcome.”

You walked back into the castle without another word. You had hoped that maybe he would have stopped you, but he stood there stunned into silence.

You retreated into your room and sat back down in your chair. Distractions. You needed distractions. You pulled out your book, trying to ignore the fact that you had a clear line of sight to Zoro’s training, should you choose to look out your window. You were curious if he had taken the teddy bear advice, or if he had thrown your directive completely out and was trying his own method. You were too scared to look down and see.

You tried to read your book for an hour before you gave up. The words were swimming across the pages, your mind easily wandering out the door and down the hall to the courtyard. You should go check on him, see if there was any progress.

You probably had been too cruel to him. And while you had good reason, he had no idea why you were responding so coldly to him. Zoro hadn’t learned much at all when your father had given him instructions and left him alone. No, he flourished under your steady guidance and ability to recognize small victories. There were ways to be a good teacher and still keep yourself emotionally distant…wasn’t there?

You put your book down and walked down the stairs, glancing out the door to the courtyard before you took a step out.

It wasn’t pretty. One of the bears had been torn apart. You weren’t sure if his haki had done that, or his frustration. Stuffing laid strewn about the area as if you had gotten an early snow.

But Zoro was still there, trying his best to infuse the stuffed animal. He was failing miserably. But he was trying.

You silently opened the door and stepped outside. “Would you like some pointers now?”

“Depends.” He didn’t seem shocked to hear you. It was as if he knew you were coming. “Are you going to be an asshole about it?”

“Are you going to accept my help?” You shock back, instantly irritated.

One eye cracked open. You could tell he was fighting between an appropriate response and what he wanted to say.

“I will,” he said through gritted teeth. Appropriate response it was.

You sat down across from him. “Show me what you’ve been doing. And we’ll go from there.”

He bit back a response and closed his eyes, trying to focus. He was able to instantly shroud his hand in armament haki, but he gritted his teeth as he tried to force his haki into the bear. He was acting as if it were something to be conquered, rather than an extension of himself.

You supposed it would be hard to have him act that a teddy bear was an extension of himself without knowing that beforehand.

“I see,” you whispered. “You can stop now.”

He opened his eyes, looking at you with caution. You couldn’t blame him for being wary.

“Did the stuffing massacre happen from an attempt at haki or were you just frustrated?”

His lips quirked up at your joke. You started to grin back, but stopped yourself. This had to be professional.

“The haki tore his head off,” he said. “I did the rest. It was the closest I got to a success.”

It wasn’t very close at all, but you didn’t comment on that.

He looked at you skeptically. “Can this actually be done, or did I do something to piss you off?”

You took the bear from his hands and pushed haki into it. The brown fur instantly became metallic black, and you looked at him expectantly.

“Got it,” he grumbled. “What am I doing wrong?”

“We’ll do that tomorrow.” You knew what you had to do to help him, and you weren’t prepared for that yet.

“You said-”

“I need time,” you admitted, showing a shred of vulnerability. “I don’t have the reserves to help you today. Let me build it up and we can work tomorrow. Together.”

His hard face softened at your words, as if he could sense a small piece of your wall being peeled away. “How should we train now?”

“Relax,” you said. “Prepare mentally and build your reserves. With any luck, we’ll last until lunch time.”

His brow furrowed. “What exactly are you planning?”

You gave him a small smile. “A training exercise on the act of extending your haki. That’s all.”

“You say it so devilish, I’m almost nervous.”

You let out a laugh. “You should be.”

“Is that a challenge?”

Your face was neutral, but you knew he could see the mischief dancing in your eyes. “Only if you want it to be, Roronoa.”

It was too easy to fall into this with him. The easy jokes and quick banter was practically second nature with him, even though you had only known each other a few weeks. But the spark went out of his eyes at your last word. His name.

“Call me Zoro.”

“It’s easier if I don’t.” Ice flooded through your veins. You had gotten too casual again.

“Everyone calls me Zoro,” he argued.

You picked up the stuffed toys that were still intact instead of responding. “Tell Perona I’ll take dinner in my room tonight.”

“What? We eat together.” You could hear the frustration in his voice.

“I need to concentrate tonight. Unless you want one of us to end up like your stuffed friend over there.” It was partially the truth. You did need to concentrate and build up resistance to the possibility of an influx of haki. But you could do that anywhere. It was an excuse to be alone.

“Fine.” He let you walk away again, but this time you were relieved.

As you hid in your room, you could hear Zoro and Perona fighting downstairs, but you refused to go investigate. It wasn’t until hours later that there came a knock on your door. Zoro.

“Dinner.” He opened the door and brought in a tray of food.

“Leave it on the table.” You kept your eyes closed, still focusing on building up energy.

“Figured we could eat together,” Zoro said.

Your eyes snapped open and you glared at him, irritated that he broke your concentration. “I need to be alone.”

“No you don’t.” He had that smug look on his face, as if he was capable of seeing right through you. “You can eat with me for twenty minutes.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in and resettling. “Go away, Roronoa.”

“You watched me struggle,” he mused. You could hear the creak of your bed, and you bristled at the thought of him being near your things. “I feel like I should get the option to sit and watch you.”

“Get out,” you growled. “You’re distracting me.”

He let out a chuckle. “Now you know what it’s like.”

“Roronoa-”

“Come eat with me, then I’ll leave.”

You didn’t move.

Neither did he.

You tried to focus; tried to build your energy. But it was distracting having him in here. You could feel his presence, normally so serious and stoic, almost amused now as he watched you.

“Do you mind?” You snapped, finally opening an eye.

“I think what’s distracting you is hunger, actually. Let’s eat.”

“Please, Roronoa,” you whispered. “Please leave.”

You locked eyes with him. A battle of the wills. But you were begging, not challenging. If you had dinner with him alone again…who knew where that would end up. You could see from the corner of your eye he had brought wine too. You definitely couldn’t sit with him and have dinner and wine in your room.

“You really want me to go?” His voice was soft, and you felt a pull in your core.

You nodded, knowing your voice would betray you. You wanted nothing more than to be close to him. Which is exactly why you had to stay far away.

He could see the pleading in your eyes, and he relented. He got up from your bed with a sigh and grabbed one of the trays-his tray.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Early.”

You nodded, though you knew he didn’t see you respond. He was already closing the door. You grabbed the food and nibbled at it, not having an appetite. He had left the wine, but you resisted opening it. You needed a clear head.

Only when you crawled into bed did you notice it. A red rose, lying on your nightstand. Perona only picked flowers of the pink and black variety. Zoro must have set it down before he left.

Surely all pupils brought flowers to their teachers, didn’t they?

If you'd like to be added to a tag list for this story, comment below or send me a message :)

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #cozage #✧˚zoro✧˚

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missycolorful · 6 months

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It's important to remember that the Antarctic Empire, and therefore SMP Earth, is essentially canon to QSMP. (as far as I'm aware) (it definitely will be for this post, so shhh)

Think about all the destruction, mayhem, and cruel things Philza did on SMPE. How nothing held him back. He committed so many war crimes with a damn smile on his face. As part of the Antarctic Empire, he took over the world.

And if SMP Earth Philza is also q!Philza, then it's interesting to see how much has changed since the old days. How, before being thrust into Purgatory, he's been chill and minding his own business. Never really got into conflicts, never caused mayhem or destruction. The only exceptions are two occasions: a) when he returned to the eggs being missing, and he lava casted the Presidential Building, and b) at the Guy Fawkes event.

(Which as I'm typing this I'm realizing. The Guy Fawkes day was an event set the day before things went to hell. An event designed to create mass destruction. An event in which the capybaras gave Philza all the power and control, to blow up with so many stacks of TNT. and Philza fucking loved it. Perhaps to just give us a taste of what's to come.)

But anyway! Philza hasn't really delved into chaos on this server all that much. And even in the beginning of Purgatory, what he has been saying about the Red Team being underdogs is true. They weren't off to a great start; the first day and a half were hell! And yes, he only killed in self defense. He didn't trust the eye worth shit. And of course, he didn't want to hurt anyone. And I'm sure that is still true.

But as time as gone on, as the days have passed, the underdog statement just isn't the case now, as they've embraced what has made them strong, even if they are lacking in other places (i.e. not a lot of PVP players, no enchanted equipment). And they've done some questionable stuff. The situation with q!Rivers, for example. And also one I don't see mentioned which, I think was Day 8? When Phil just. Stole a saddle and a stack of potatoes from Blue Team's base while he was taking/replanting their crops. But still, Philza wants to justify these actions. "It's the bolas way." "it was for a quest" "we did this cause this." He wants to believe that what he's doing isn't bad, because he's just trying to survive in purgatory, right? Philza is a survivalist, this is how he survives.

Then we had today, where Philza's intense gameplay shined. He fought so many people in PVP, didn't even take a second to hold back, used his impressive minecraft skills to work his way to Green's base, and he killed the statue. He went wild today. Just imagine, Philza, wearing the Bolas gas mask, descending upon you with a sword, with no mercy. No, not just Philza, but the Angel of Death.

I think this is what Purgatory wants out of him. Right? Because clearly, Purgatory wants to bring the worst out of everyone.

I also think the reason that q!Phil tries to justify so much of his actions isn't simply ruled as hypocrisy (though it's a bit, in a way) or, in meta, born from self deprecation. No, there's something more to it.

It's because Philza does not want to be corrupted by Purgatory. He refuses to accept that it's dragging him to a dark place. A familiar place, even. I genuinely believe that Philza simply does not want to be like how he was all those years ago. Destructive and cruel. He doesn't want to go back. He's not like that anymore. He's a better person now. He doesn't want to hurt people, and I absolutely believe that. That's different, though, than saying I won't.

#qsmp #philza #missy rambles #qsmp purgatory #i finally figured out why all the posts simply calling q!phil's actions hypocritical bothered me #like they are I don't think that was the problem #it's really because there's more to all of thissomething darker

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faejilly · 7 months

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i always liked the thought that outside of the persona that he presents, magnus is terribly domestic bc he seems that he would curl up on a couch with his lover and just be yk? like i bet that he has had relationships that were just sex and partying but i bet if he was given a choice he would choose to spend the evening in and watching a movie

Quite possibly.

I do think that Magnus, (much like Alec in fact, if in a slightly different way), is very good at giving anyone he is with the experience that they most want.

He enjoys performing, whether he is highlighting or subverting expectations, I believe he loves putting on a show and he is perfectly capable of tailoring that show to his audience. Part of this is survival, part of this is avoiding conflict, part of this is politics, but it seems clear he does actually also like it or he wouldn't have chosen such an extravagant persona (or bothered with all the necessary closet space to hold his wardrobe 😅).

He likes planning parties which is a different skill-set than just attending them after all. He wants to create an environment, set the stage, organize the comforts and attractions and entertainment and etc.

Magnus does in fact also enjoy people. He likes parties and dancing and afternoon tea and anything else that gives him that jolt of interaction and appreciation. He does seem to legitimately be an extrovert who feels recharged after social interaction; especially if he knows he's the one who made it a good experience for everyone involved. (Or a bad one, if he's intimidating people. There's some pride involved, I think, in knowing he can have whatever effect he wants, regardless of what anyone else is expecting.)

He is much better at grand gestures of devotion and friendship (and money and power) because that ties back into him being in control of his interactions and his vulnerabilities and other people's expectations.

So I don't think he dislikes being a party person, or his extravagant High Warlock persona, or that he was at all unsatisfied with whirlwind dramatic relationships full of parties and dancing and shows and travel. Those are all things he can do, and do well, and gets a kick out of.

However satisfying it is to do the things you're good at, and know that you're sweeping someone else along with something they enjoy, I do think sometimes he hid himself within those extravagances; avoided smaller intimacies of domestic chores and quietly reading on opposite sides of the couch, etc. because then he'd have to share control, which is terrifying when you're as aware as he is of all the ways an intimate friend or partner can (purposefully or not) betray or hurt you.

He offers the high life because he can, and once upon he couldn't, and most people enjoy it and are impressed by it. HOWEVER, I do agree that that's not really the point for him, and sometimes it was definitely another layer of armor between his bruised heart and the world.

All he needs from a partner is their attention. (I know the love languages book is nonsense, but, it will be a useful framework for my rambling, so! Let's imagine it's not.) I think his personal love language is simply quality time. Someone who wants to be with him, regardless of time or place or consequences or conveniences, who doesn't just want his money or magic, but will not flinch from those parts of him either. Who may not need him to take care of them, but won't push him away when he does anyway.

Which is of course exactly what Alec offers with his single-minded focus and devotion to the partner he's chosen, and which most of us cannot do to at all the same extent. (Which is why Alec feels vaguely useless to Magnus most of the time, because everyone else he's ever known or loved has required his actions not just his presence, and is also why Magnus cannot understand that insecurity at all, because no one else has ever just looked at Magnus without all the trappings and been enraptured.)

But! Back to the original premise.

Alec is not an extrovert and hates putting on a show and does not trust large crowds of people to avoid being stupid, so in fact once they are together I do believe they are usually very quietly domestic at home, because the setting, for Magnus, is incidental to the fact that they're spending time together, so he is perfectly content making sure Alec is comfortable wherever they are, and that they have that quiet time together reasonably often.

(I do think Magnus and Alec spend a lot of time in physical contact, cuddling or hand-holding or working on similar projects in shared space, because Alec's love language is very clearly physical touch. He is more than capable of showing his love and care to people in their own languages, time or gifts or words or service, but all he really needs is for the people he's worried about to be close enough to hold onto.)

#jilly answers #forever-nox #shadowhunters #malec #my sh rambling #magnus bane #alec lightwood #alec gives the best hugs #is I think relevant to this post #tangential tuesday

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tommarvoloriddlesdiary · 1 year

Text

Harry’s life was full of low days.

Since the war with Voldemort ended in a truce, admittedly, those days have lessened. For a while, Harry found himself breathing easier, waking up each morning lighter, sometimes even finding the will to peacefully drift off to sleep at night, not a single nightmare.

Yet always, the low days persisted.

Depression, Hermione had insisted. We should get you a mind healer. They’ll do wonders in helping you talk things out and foster natural coping skills that simply everyone has—

But Harry didn’t want people in his head. Voldemort already had a permanent little home dugout in there; hell, Snape was bad enough when he tried to teach Harry occlumency. There’s no way he’d put himself through anything similar.

So Harry did what he did best when the world became too much; isolated.

There was comfort and torture in his solitude with equal measure. Time was too abstract. Midnight and afternoon blurred until it was simply boiled down to: I’m awake now. He didn’t take visitors but allowed the occasional floo call and owl. He supposed that patronus counted as well since his wards couldn’t deflect them.

But there was only so long Harry could hide away before his status and the demands of the wizarding world came knocking.

Nothing was ever done. His opinion was always needed. And try as Harry might to siphon off responsibilities when people weren’t looking, they’d almost naturally work their way back to him. Like a damn boomerang, or better yet, a homing missile set on destroying Harry with its inevitable return.

He didn’t have the answers they were searching for, or at least never the right ones. And Harry was so used to being a disappointment that by now, he thought these small things wouldn’t get to him like this. Yet they always hurt in new and unexpected ways.

With a sigh, he cast another noise-cancelling spell on the floo, refreshing the old one. Harry was all too grateful that Grimmauld Place only had one connection, given its age and state of disuse. And given Harry’s tendency to lose himself in personal projects, making him forget about the floo entirely. Very handy, that.

It was the perfect place to hole up even if over the years, people had started to realise this was where he scurried away to. Being one of the few Black Ancestral Homes left, its reputation was nothing to laugh at. Unrealistic horror stories about the townhome were told without much levity, completely different from how Sirius had narrated them to Harry.

But not everyone was so foolish as to believe a few tall tales and stay the hell away.

For starters, Hermione, Ron, and all of the other Weasleys definitely didn’t give a rat’s arse about it. Living in the house and cleaning it for almost an entire summer made it lose all of its dreary, potentially murderous charm. So they frequently tried to swing by and only stopped when Harry finally warded the door and stuck a note to it, requesting they give him some time and space.

Honestly, Harry thought the wards weren’t even enough to stop Hermione. Hence the note. He knew she’d respect that, at least. Though it had been a few months since then…maybe six? Which would probably explain the renewed vigour in the frequency of the floo calls. The calls Harry was still ignoring.

Maybe the wards were stronger than he’d thought?

He’s broken from his musing by three sharp raps at the door. The very proper kind, one that used the knocker and everything. No pounding fists and shouts.

Harry started, unconsciously taking a step back. He’d stopped silencing the door after he put up the ward, its barrier just encompassing the front step. So a knock meant someone had finally gotten past it. Speak of the devil, and she shall appear, Harry sighed.

But when Harry opened the door and readied to speak to someone other than Kreacher for the first time in half a year, his words died all too quickly. His mouth hung open, and no sound could escape.

So he stared.

And continued staring.

Until finally—“Might I come in, Harry?” Voldemort asked.

What was one supposed to do if not stupidly nod and hold the door wide open to invite Voldemort in? Because if there were something else that could’ve been done, Harry would like to know. To armour himself for next time.

Next time?

Voldemort swept in like a maelstrom of robes, holding a small bundle of something. He took in the overall look of Grimmauld Place with slight bemusement and remarked, “You’ve changed it.”

In Harry’s defence, six months was a long time, and he ran out of things to do on day three. Tearing apart the stately dreadful everything of Grimmauld Place was the best way to fix that. Kreacher hadn’t been on board for the longest time but eventually caved when Harry had worked himself to magical exhaustion one fraught afternoon expanding the library.

Knowing all of this and the extent to which Harry had gone for it to look even half as acceptable, he could only passionately agree. “Of course. Wouldn’t you?”

And maybe he was asking the wrong person because Voldemort frowned like Harry had made a particularly tasteless joke. “No. There were most likely decades, if not over a century, of history in these halls. Changing it is akin to burning it all down.”

Harry crossed his arms, “Or maybe I’m making my own history. Leaving my own mark and magic on these walls. I doubt a few structural and design changes will really do anything.” Harry scoffed, offended at the implication that he hadn’t treated his home with respect. It also irked him, funnily enough, that Voldemort might not like his preferences. He’d worked fucking hard, dammit.

Voldemort stayed silent, slowly assessing Harry from head to toe and back again. He relented, “I suppose it is… cosy.” It looked like it had physically pained him to say it.

“Whatever,” Harry shook his head. “What are you even doing here?”

Voldemort raised a brow, “Am I not allowed to visit my Horcrux and see if it’s fairing well?” He turned his back to Harry and wandered deeper into the house, poking his nose (and wasn’t that a marvel after so long seeing him without it?) into the newly painted and freshly refinished dining room.

“Uh. No. You are not.” Harry followed after him with a brisk pace, “And I’m not your anything. We’ve talked about this.”

And they had, at length, talked about Voldemort’s odd obsession with Harry’s Horcrux. Because that was what it was: Harry’s. It had been with him longer, literally lived as a part of himself. It would die without Harry, which practically made it a limb. Not that he needed the damn thing…though, it would be very odd to wake up one morning without its silent weight and sharp, jagged lines down his forehead and temple.

It would be even odder to be without the occasional glimpse of Voldemort’s thoughts and feelings that sporadically entered his mind whenever they were loud and forceful enough to make it past his constructed barriers.

Regardless, they’d talked about this. Harry’s Horcrux wasn’t like some pet or kid they had shared custody of. Voldemort couldn’t just drop in unannounced to do welfare checks or whatever insane nonsense thing he deemed reasonable enough. He acted like he’d come over one day to find Harry dead on the floor or holding a basilisk fang to his head—ah, well, that last one might have been truer some years back.

Voldemort only hummed, its vague tone merely implying he’d heard Harry and not that he’d agreed. His steps took him into the parlour and back out into the entry hall. “You’ve not been answering your floo,” he stated and started to make his way up the stairs by the time Harry looped back to him.

“Hey! Hold on a second-!” Harry called after Voldemort, only to watch him ascend to the first floor with little care for anything Harry was spouting.

Incredulous, Harry practically chased Voldemort around his entire home. From the drawing room to the guest bedrooms to the study and, inevitably, the library. Voldemort opened every door he came across—even the cloakroom!—like he wasn’t invading Harry’s personal space and rudely giving himself a tour.

Harry wouldn’t say Voldemort had done so with any decency, but he had stopped once he caught sight of the new library. And even though Harry was miffed and, for some reason, still hesitating on calling upon the wardstone to remove Voldemort forcibly, he was pleased that this room seemed to hold Voldemort’s attention long enough to make him pause.

After all, the library was Harry’s biggest undertaking and still wasn’t actually complete. There were a few nooks he had to sort out, not only for himself but for Hermione and maybe even Luna, for when he’d finally break out of his isolation and let them over. Its deep forest green was a nod to the Black Family’s Slytherin roots which paired nicely with the polished silver hardware on every sconce and metal accent.

The black leather couches could also be an aesthetic choice, but really Harry only picked them because they reminded him of Sirius. And he’d never say that out loud for fear of over-inflating Padfoot’s already abnormally large head.

Voldemort carefully walked through the shelves and trailed his fingers along their fine wood grain. Once he came upon the darker, moodier books with more personality and bite than books ought to have, he stopped and lifted his hand. He was rubbing his fingertips like a mother-in-law looking for dust. “It was once a deep maroon, did you know? Long before Orion and Walburga laid claim to the home. It was Arcturus the second, Orion’s father, who owned the house before him and had married Melania Black née Macmillan, a fiercely ambitious Gryffindor with a soft spot for cursed books.”

Harry watched as Voldemort started perusing the titles; he continued, “Lucretia often spoke about it, her mother’s prized library. Sensible rumours implied the woman was quite depressed after the wedding and requested the colour to adjust better to newly married life.” He turned back to Harry, “The other rumours, not so sensible, spun tales of the Black Family’s Library and spread like a fine duvet. Stories of how the walls were smeared thick with muggle blood and of the dark rituals that were required for the home to maintain its perfectly fresh hue without even a hint of an iron smell in the air. They were told to the younger Slytherins like a ghastly bedtime warning.”

Then Voldemort walked up to Harry—too close—and tilted his head down, his lips just a hairsbreadth away from Harry’s ear, “Between you and I, there may be some merit to them.” His breath tickled the side of Harry’s neck as he huffed a small laugh and stood straight once more. “Or it was all merely a power play by the entire Black Family. At the time, five of them walked Hogwarts’s halls together, and what a clever little tactic to establish superiority and cultivate fear that would’ve been.”

Say what you will about Voldemort, Harry sighed, his arms crossed. He certainly knows how to give a compelling monologue. He was confident he could leave a cardboard cutout of himself here for days, and Voldemort would go on and on and on, none the wiser.

But, Harry couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly. It was nice to hear.

“I didn’t know,” Harry replied and took one giant step back. “It was so mouldy in here that the walls were some kind of lumpy grey colour. I tried scraping the gunk off with severing charms, but it was a lost cause.” He shrugged, “They could’ve been red.”

Voldemort’s pleased look fell at Harry’s words. Harry couldn’t blame him. Gunk was not great imagery. No matter how accurate. “Well? Enough about the ‘good ol’ days’, old man. What do you think of my handiwork?”

Harry delighted in Voldemort’s scrunched-up nose. “You insolent child.” With a final glance around the library, he acquiesced, “It is acceptable.”

“High praise from the mighty Dark Lord,” sarcasm dripped from Harry’s tone. His thoughts shifted when he suddenly remembered, “And how did you know I haven’t been answering my floo?”

Voldemort looked very unimpressed, “Naturally, I tried to use your floo address and was promptly rejected. Your muggleborn friend seemed up in arms, ready to storm the castle if you will, because she hadn’t been able to breach the wards you erected.”

“What? When was this?” Harry couldn’t believe he’d somehow managed to block Voldemort’s floo access. Thank Merlin.

“That doesn’t matter,” Voldemort quickly sidestepped Harry’s question. “What matters is the amount of torment I’ve been subjected to because of your sudden disappearance for months on end.”

Voldemort was quiet for a moment. “And Granger mentioned you may be depressed.”

That previous shock, the one Harry had found himself in when he’d opened the door to Voldemort and his new pretty face and stupid nice hair, came flooding back. Harry’s body slumped with the surprise, arms uncrossing, utterly at a loss for words.

“I’m…” Harry tried to start, but Voldemort cleared his throat and talked over him, “It turns out she’s just ignorant. Had she gone through any of the books the ministry has falsely labelled ‘dark’, she would have found the counter to your wards much sooner. Wherever did you find the rune work?”

“She’s not ignorant,” Harry frowned. Hackles raised and surprise forgotten, “And take a wild guess.” He gestured to the room at large.

“Ah,” Voldemort stiffened. And though his awkward face tickled Harry’s satisfaction, Harry could feel Voldemort’s overwhelming relief leaking through their bond—Harry didn’t know how being made a fool could be relieving in any way.

Then Voldemort’s hand raised, and Harry watched as his leather lounges grew autonomous and walked closer together, a small glass-top table conjured between them. Voldemort did this, and Harry’s eye caught sight again of the small bundle he’d staunchly held since entering the townhome. He watched as Voldemort placed it on the table and gently tapped the cloth with his wand to reveal a warm, freshly baked treacle tart.

Like whiplash, that stomach-swooping surprise hit Harry again.

The evening sunset through the tall stained-glass windows of the library cast a golden glow on Voldemort’s features, and the silver-sconced candlelight flickered in the deep muddy red of his eyes, making them sparkle like garnets.

If that was the colour Melania Black had requested, Harry thought with substantial awe; I could see the appeal.

“Your favourite, I’m told,” Voldemort carried on like he hadn’t just done something incredibly thoughtful and considerate for what was no doubt the first time in his life.

It dawned on Harry just how lonely he’d been, isolated for this long with no one able to pull him out. The words slipped from his mouth uninhibited, “I…Thank you, Voldemort. I didn’t realise how badly I wanted to see a friendly face.”

The second wave, stronger and dizzying, of surprise, wasn’t Harry’s own. And he could see, now that Voldemort was in front of him and Harry knew to look, that surprise on Voldemort. “You think my face is friendly?”

Blinking rapidly, Harry responded with an inelegant, “Um…well….”

“That’s a shame,” Voldemort continued. A hint of something—laughter?—creased in the lines of his eyes and smirk, “I’d prefer intimidating. Or awe-inspiring. ‘Friendly’ isn’t the kind of face a Dark Lord should have.”

That might be so; Harry couldn’t suppress the fond smile that tugged at his lips and the way his shoulders relaxed, sinking with the thaw of his isolation. But—

“I think your face is just right.”

#tomarry #tomarrymort #harrymort #pov: harry #my fic #2.6k words #so you know what you're getting into #it's sweet i promise #i wish i could write and write and write #sometimes my brain wont work with me #and other times i can at least do this much #hope you enjoy it #series: (the world) its quiet turning

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aplacetodoze · 1 year

Text

A Little Gift

Note: A fluffy one shot for Mando, just as he deserve.

Humming your favorite song, you put the pieces you've prepared together, cut the extra thread, wrap the material in the right way, you're halfway there...

"What are you doing?" comes a cold modulated voice behind you.

Frighted by his sudden appearance, your whole body jerked but your hand was quick to dispose of your work and back into your bag. You turn to face him and smile nervously, hiding the mess you've left with your body. "I was just- working on some of my em, broken tools, clothes, and stuff." He tilted his head, a rather cute motion for someone as deadly as him. "Well, if you need new tools and clothing you could just ask me." You shake your head, mortified. "NO, it's fine, I'll just fix it." you couldn't waste his credits just because of your stupid lie. He observe you for a while, and you were sure he was about to call out your lie, he simply gave you an "Alright." before walking away. You exhale rather loudly, you swear having a deadly Mandalorian jump scare you on daily basis will give you a heart attack one day. You turn toward your temporary work desk, which is just a few crates you see around the ship, and put them together, especially those unused ones (why does he keep so much random stuff on the ship but never use it?) You sigh and massage your sore neck for looking down half your day, it's quite peaceful lately, Mando's work and all the running are finally slowing down for once since rescuing the baby, and most of the bounty he takes in now is just steady income, nothing too dangerous. And you, as his mechanic and nurse, finally have the time to settle down. And you thought it would be nice to take this time to do something special for him. Maybe this would help melt his icy personality then you could openly take care of and love the true Mando you've been craving for. You're halfway through your work, better finish it off before Mando runs himself into trouble again. You sit back down on the not-so-comfortable floor and swear to yourself you'll force him to get a carpet. (or you'll make it yourself.) Unknowingly to you, an watchful eyes were trained on you the whole time.

Mando forced himself to tear his eyes away, you were clearly lying to him but it is your privacy that he has no right to pry. Though he was wondering why you would hide from him but he'll leave it to you. Mando went back to the cockpit to check the destination. He pull out a holo map to went through it again to make sure there was nothing dangerous on the planet that he didn't know of, but a three-finger tiny hand appear on his knee. He turned toward it and chuckled at the sight of the green child struggling to climb onto him. Mando picks him up and put him on his thigh, the child coo while looking up at him."You want to see this?" Mando gestures his hand toward the holo map, the child tilt his head and lets out a curious coo. Mando takes the map closer and shows it to him, "Alright, Udarvis, a water planet, peaceful with a popular civilization, I think you going to like it there." The child cooed again to reply and let out a happy noise when Mando open a beautiful photo of the planet. Mando chuckled before switching to another planet.

FINALLY! You have finished it, a brand new scarf made in a material that would change the temperature in different environments, and a new set of warm clothes for Mando, the haunting experience of the ice planet still burn you. Plus a new improved bag for the baby to rest in while going out. Now, you don't know if Mando will like your work, it's not something he counts as efficient or needed, but you believe it would help. Maybe you would change your gift into something more weaponry if he doesn't like it. But to be honest, you were more concerned about his health more than anything. Climbing up a ladder with a handful of stuff isn't very pleasant, but is a skill you need to master. Your joy washes over the struggle as soon as you reach the top, you recheck your gift once more, suddenly feeling nervous.

You step closer to Mando, and he tilts his head toward you when you're standing right behind him. You were about to speak up when something hit the crest, the whole ship shook as you lose balance and slam into the wall. "Dank Farrick!" you heard Mando curse， taking hold of the crest again. You stumble toward him and hold on to his pilot chair to keep yourself upright. "You're alright?" Mando asked as he check on the baby, you open your mouth to reply but you feel something drip down your cheek. Kniff you must have hit your head pretty badly, but it doesn't feel urgent. It might be just a scratch. You tumble backward a bit when Mando turns around, and you could hear his breath hitched as his eyes trained on the blood dripping down your face. You smile sheepily at him, "It's fine, Mando. It's just a scratch.“ You blink and he was in front of you, his helmet was inches away from your face. You feel a sudden heat rush toward your face, leaning back away from him on instinct but his hand stops you from moving further. His gloves hand brush over your hair to inspect your wound, you couldn't focus on anything other than how close Mando is, the pain is nothing compared to the way your heart was losing control. Mando leads back and lets out a sigh, "It's a surface wound but you still need bacta, come on." Mando takes hold of your wrist and gently guides you toward the seat. He did it so naturally like this is a normal interaction for the both of you but you can't help but linger on the way his hand fit so perfectly around your wrist. Mando left you on the seat and went down the deck to look for his med pack. You cling onto your gift waiting nervously for him to come back. Well, this isn't an ideal situation for your gift, but you suppose it helps you get his attention. Now you just need the courage.

Mando returns to you rather quickly and before you could form a word he kneels down to your eyes level. You watch him work in silence, heart skipping at his gentle touch. He'll stiff and hesitate to continue whenever you hiss and flinch away. Your heart melted by the time he finish, and your eyes flutter as he gently wiped the blood on your face away. You lead into his touch slightly, he tensed slightly but didn't comment on the action. You just wish he would treat himself just as tender as he does to you.

"It should heal in a few days." You open your eyes to watch him putting the med pack back together. Mando takes a step away and you dart out your arms to grad onto his wrist. “Wait!" He turns to you instantly, "Is something wrong?" the concern in his voice pulls at your heart-string, having you carving for more. "I have something for you!" you said cheerfully, giving him a big grin as if you didn't suffer a head injury. Mando picks it up wordlessly, inspecting the item intensely. "oh, the new scarf will change temperature due to the environment you're in to cooperate your body heat." He looks back at you, his silence is unsettling but you ignore it as best you can. “The clothes are more warm and comfortable, so they should help you on a cold planet and makes sleeping in your armor more comfortable." Mando put the scarf gently on his seat and palm the clothes even though he's wearing his glove. You wait until he put the clothes away with the scarf, leaving only the bag left. "That is for the baby! Now it's comfortable, and I've stuffed a little defense system in there too, so whenever a fight breaks off, a shield would appear and protect him." a happy squeak comes from the floor, and you look down to see the baby happily cooing at you. You giggle and pick him up, tickling him so you could hear his cute laugh. You hug the baby against you and look back at Mando.

Mando watches as you interact with the child, his clan happily together, safe. What you just did is too precious, the love he has carved for is being given right into his hands. He could feel the warmth in his chest bloom when you start explaining the meaning of every gift.

He has received a lot of 'gifts' in his past but never has someone gift him something made out of love. The gift is small but it fills the biggest hole he has in his heart. He watches as you smile sweetly at the child, and the smile stays when you turn to face him, taking his breath away. He slowly kneels down, putting his hands on your cheeks, "Mando?" He lean down and put his helmet against your forehead. He almost chuckled at the way your flutter, trying to jerk away. But he waits until you're calm enough to enjoy the moment. "Mando?" You repeat with a whisper, afraid to break the moment. "Din." "What?" "My name is Din." He watches your smile grow and his face under the helmet matches yours. "Din." he sighs contently, he will never get enough of your voice.

You lean closer to him, quietly asking the question you had in mind for a long while, "I love you, do you know that?" You heard Din inhale sharply, "Yes, I do. " He pauses and you wait patiently, knowing he's not used to being open about his emotion. "And I love you too, Cyar'ika." You smile again, this time with your heart full of love. "Good."

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misha_P/works

#the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #din djarin #reader insert #din and grogu #one shot #mandalorian fluff #mandalorian fanfic #mando x reader #din djarin x reader #slight blood and injury #new to writing

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blackhakumen · 3 months

Text

Mini Fanfic #1173: A Long Awaited Explanation (SSBU X Fire Emblem)

12:56 p.m. at the Smash Mansion's Outdoor Patio.........

Robin: (Sitting Next to Lucina and his Son on a Wopden Bench Together) So you Severa, and Ingio have been playing the roles of retainers to Nohrian side of Kamui's family with your identities getting altered in the process.

Lucina: And this all started because a man in a cloak asked you for help?

Owain: (Simply Nodded) Precisely. We spotted him following us on that night, bending into the shadows unnoticed. Once we finally met face to face, he told us his "situation" and plead for our help. We were hesitant at first, or- rather.....Severa and Ingio were the ones the most hesitant about it if anything. (Smiles Sheepishly While Rubbing the Back of his Head Back and Forth) I....might or might not have let my nativity get the better of me at the moment and convinced them to help him out.

Robin: ('Sigh') Of course you did.

Lucina: (Gives Owain a Deadpinned Look on her Face) We really need to teach you to stop taking requests from random strangers one of these days.

Owain: (Comically Glares at the Duo) Do you two take me as a child or something!?

Robin: (Simply Shrugs) Well, you are my troublemaking son after all.

Lucina: I'm still older than you, so yes.

Owain: BY A FEW MONTHS MAYBE!!.

Lucina: (Crosses her Arms Reminising on the Past) Honestly, I couldn't even begin to tell you how many times I got you out of trouble over the years......

Owain: AREN'T YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME RIGHT NOW!!?

Robin: (Gives His Son a Fatherly Glare) Owain, don't yell at your older cousin. It's rude.

Lucina: (Playfully Sticks jer Tongue Out at Owain)

Owain: OH FORGET I ASKED!! ('Sighs Heavily') Anyways!.....After we accepted the request, the cloaked man telephoned us to Valla, altered our identities and off to Nohrian Empire we went. The experience itself wasn't too shabby. Newer bonds have been formed, done a few erra-I mean quests here and there, faced various types of monsters and evil forces, sat back in the sidelines as we watch two the nations set aside their differences and reluctantly work together as Kaumi lead us to victory. It was a decent time all around, except for all the near death experiences that transpired during our journey. But after we slayed King Garon, who turned out to be an evil tyrant surprise-surprise, we then found out that the man in cloaked just so happens to be an even more diabolical entity who wants to kill Kamui for....personal reasons I believe? I don't quite remember. I'm just more relieved to never fave him again.....

Lucina: Was he difficult was defeat?

Owain: ('Heh') Difficult? He was a god-forsaken NIGHTMARE to put down if anything! But I digress. Because after that was dealt with, Nohr and Hosido has finally formed strong, unbreakable alliance on that day and peace has been bestowed on both lands ever since. After the war has concluded, our trioic adventures has come to a close as both Severa and Ingio decided to remain in Nohr while embarked on more solo journey.

Lucina: (Eyes Widened a Bit in Genuine Surprise) They have?

Robin: What were their reasons for wanting to stay if they don't mind asking.

Owain: Well, remember when I say that newer bonds has been formed during our time at Nohr? Well, the bonds those two made has formed to formidable sisterhood on one end and a cherishable romance on the other. Severa became the co-founder and leader of a band of highly skilled Wyvern Riders known as the Wyvern Regade, and Ingio- (Chuckles Lightly) I swear, if anyone were to tell me that Prince of all Twinkle Toes abd Skirt Chasing has retired his flirty ways and finally settled down into a committed relationship, I would call that biggest blasphemy of the century!

Robin: (Chuckles Lightly) Is that right? Who's the lucky gal or guy?

Owain: Make that the lucky gal AND guy, because no only he is dating his fellow retainer but he's also dating the elder prince of all of Nohr as well! Who I must add has now taken the title of becoming king.

Robin: (Smiles Brightly) Nice! I hope they're doing well nowadays.

Owain: I do as well. They seemed really happy with one another the last I saw them together. And Severa too. It makes me so happy to know that she's getting the recognition she remarkably deserves.

Lucina: So they've moved on already.

Owain turns to his cousin who looked saddened at the thought of one of her closest companions and her younger brother in another kingdom, living their own lives. This, in turn, causes him to frown as well.

Owain: (Takes a Deep Breath Before Speaking) I'm sorry, cousin. The choice to stay weren't easy ones for either of them to make on that day. But I can guarantee you 100% that those two missed and thought about you every single day.

Lucina: I know. I missed them too. Everyday of my life.....('Sigh') But above all else.....(Gives Owain a Small, Yet Sincere Smile on her Face) I'm just blessed to know that they're still alive and happy.

Owain: You are? Truly?

Lucina: (Happily Nodded) Yes, truly. We've all been through hell and back to save to our families' timeline from complete chaos. So I believe it's only right to let them the lives they've set for themselves going forward. Besides, I plan on visiting them one of these days in the near future once I know how to use the Dimensional Rings properly.

Owain: (Eyes Begins to Widened a Bit) The Dimensional Rings? (Turns to Lucina) Question: Is it a golden ring? The kinda of ring that is giant sized?

Lucina: Whenever its used, yes.

Robin: Why?

Owain: Because I believe that might be the same ring that brought me into this place to begin with.

Lucina: Seriously?

Robin: Did you see anyone around using it by any chance?

Owain: I can't say that i have I'm afraid.....The ring itself just appeared out of nowhere when I first saw it in the desert. (Crosses his Arms) The thought it's existence has hardly ever crossed my mind up until now. Not even when I took long nap on the sidewalks.

Lucina: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock) You WHAT!?

Robin: (Webt Back to Glaring at his Son) Owain, those sidewalks get colder in time of year! You could've gotten your sick!

Lucina: How long did you slept there!?

Owain: (Starts Rubbing The Back of his Head Again) Well.... Considering how long i was transported to the beach and how far I've walked towards the town, I'd say it was.....approximately aboooout..... Few....hours or so? (Forms an Awkward Grin on his Face)

Lucina: A FEW HOURS- (Holds Up her Hand While Pinching her Nose and Letting Out a Heavy Sigh) Owain Everfield Yliston.

Owain: I.....don't think that's my middle name-

Lucina: HUSH! (Angrily Points at her Dear Cousin) If I find out that you've been in roaming around this town in this cold temperature, on an empty stomach SO HELP ME-

Owain: Cousin, cousin, please! Calm yourself. Despite the turn of events that aspired as of late, I can assure you and father that I am perfectly well and long past fed.

????: He's not wrong, you know?

The trio turns to see Dark Pit and his two girlfriends, Misako and Kyoko, standing in front of the patio's doorway.

Dark Pit: We treated him to lunch after we woke him up from his sidewalk nap.

Misako: He even convinced us to take on the Big Bang Burger Challenge for the fourth time. Failed again by the way.

Kyoko: (Happily Holds Up her Shopping Bags Close to her Face) Not to mention all the shopping we did thanks to the money he provided!~ ('Squeals Happily') I'm so loving this New Year so far!~

Misako: (Casually Shrugs) Eh. It's whatever. (Forks a Small Smirk on her Face) Still had a good time today though.

Dark Pit: Same here. You weren't bad company today, Odin. (Forms a Teasing Smirk on his Face) Or should I call you...."Owain Everlast Yliston".

Owain: (Eyes Widened in Disbelief).......H-How-

Misako: We heard everything from inside.

Kyoko: Love your real name by the way~

Misako: Suits you a whole lot better than your fake one.

Owain: (Let's Out a Loud Gasps Before Glaring at the Trioic Couple) Excuse YOU!? I'll have you know that the "fake" name is based around one of most powerful gods in all of mythology! And it is far more superior than my bland, boring actually name.

Lucina: Owain, your mother gave you that name when you were born.

Owain: W-Well, yeah, but-

Robin: ('Sigh') She would always tell me how much she adores that name of yours. As do I......

Owain: (Rolls his Eyes) Father, I know that, but-

Lucina: Honestly. I cannot imagine the look on my poor Auntie's face when she finds out that you find your name dull or boring.

Owain: (Angrily Points at his Cousin) You will do no such thing!-

Dark Pit: Hey, make sure you send us a video whenever you do tell her. Kinda wanna see how this soap opera plays out-

Owain: ('Groans in Pure Annoyance and Defeat') ENOUGH ALREADY! Mother doesn't need to know about all this! (Points at the Dark Angel) And I certainly don't need to be taunted by the likes of you!

Dark Pit: Yeah, well, now that you're gonna be living here for now on, you could bet your dramatic ass thar I'll mess with you every chance I get.

?????: PITTO! NO. CUSSING!

Dark Pit: Oh. Right. (Walks Over to the Door) A few people want to talk to you by the way.

Pitto opens the door wide, revealing Peach amd the rest of the ladies (and Lea) as they all fall down on the ground together.

'Thud'

Peach: ('Sigh') Oh geez....(Turns to the Others Behind) Is everyone okay back there?

The Others: Yeah..../Mmth/We're good/

Lea: My hair isn't!

Aqua: We'll fix your hair later, Lea.

Peach: (Gets Herself Up From the Ground Before Clearing her Throat and Forming a Very Welcoming Smile on her Face) Salutations, my dear~ My name is Princess Peach and-

Owain: (Eyes Widened Once More) Princess? (Quickly Bows himself Down to Peach and the Others) P-Please excuse and forgive me for my intrusion here, your majesty! I had no idea you lived here, honest!

Peach: (Smiles Sheepishly) Come now, dear. There's no need for you to bow and apologize. It's okay.

Owain: (Slowly But Surely Stands Back Up) Are you certain? Like absolutely so?

Peach: (Giggles Softly) Yes, absolutely~

Palutena: (Smiles Brightly) Yeah, you don't need to worry about Momma Peach. She won't bite.

Samus: Unless you provoke her that is.

Peach: (Turns Back to the Bounty Hunter) Sammy!

Samus: What? I'm not entirely wrong, am I?

Bayonetta: You can be a scary princess sometimes, my dear.

Peach: (Sighs While Rolling her Eyes) I know that! I just don't wanna scare him off! Just let me do all the talking, okay?

Samus: (Shrugs) Whatever you say, boss.

Peach: (Turns Back to Owain) Now, Owain, Odin or umm-

Owain: Just Owain is fine, ma'am. (Rolling his Eyes Again) It is my birth name after all.

Peach: It's a wonderful birth name, dear.

Kyoko: Told you!~

Peach: Anyways, Pitto has told us some much about you minutes ago and nothing would make our day bright more than to have you stay and be a part of this family.

Owain: (Eyes Slowly Begins to Widened Yet Again in Genuine Surprise) You.....all considered me a part of this family of yours?

Daisy: (Smiles Brightly) Heck yeah!~ You seem like pretty nice kid all around. You'd fit right in.

Rosalina: (Smiles Softly) Plus, being here would give you an honest chance to reconnect with your father and cousin going forward.

Robin: (Places his Habd onto his Son's Shoulder, Giving him a Smile of his Own) And I am more than willing to make up for loss times, my son.

Lucina: (Gives Owain a Very Loving Hug) As will I. Owain, I know we've gotten the wrong foot earlier, but words are not enough to express how much you mean to to us or even how......ecstatic and blessed I truly am to finally see you again after all this time. So please......Would you stay here and be a part of our ever growing family?

Owain: (Stares Deep into Lucina's Eyes For a Brief Second Before Tears Starts Falling Down From his Eyes) Yes.....('Sniff') Yes, of course! (Happily Pulls Lucina and Robin into a Group Hug) I would be more than honored to be a part of this wonderful family!~ I love you two so much.

Lucina: (Tears Starts Falling Down From her as Well) ('Sniff') We love you too, cousin.

Robin: (Happily Hugs Her Son and Niece Back) Welcome to the Smash Family.

Moms: AWWWWWWWWWWW!~

Lea: (Starts Tearing Up as Well) Great. ('Sniff') The water works is about to get in.......

Samus: (Tearing Up Along with the Rest of the Ladies) You and me both, man. ('Sniff') This is so beautiful.....

Peach: There's only one way to distinguish these watery emotions, ladies!~

Moms: GROUP HUGS!~ (Gather Around and Joins on the Hugfesr)

Dark Pit: Yeah, you all have fun with that. (Starts Making his Way to the Door) If anyone needs me, I'll be in lounging around in the-

Misako: Get your ass over here! (Yanks Pitto Over to the Group by the Collar)

Kyoko: Now, mister!~

With the trio included, the heartwarming hug fest is now in completion. Life wasn't easy for the dramtic young man in blonde: from witnessing his love ones perish, risking his own life against all odds and fight for a better outcome, to parting ways from his older companions after the war was set and done.

It was a very long road ahead for him to endure alone indeed. But even with all that in mind, Owain Everlast Yliston believes that this town is one place....he can finally call his new home.

@cyber-wildcat

@ma-lemons

@albion-93

@bestpony666

@theweebmaster31

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kirnet · 1 year

Text

Chantry agents had made no progress in finding the Qunari basecamp.

And they had looked, devouring every inch of the Antivan coastline. The Dragon’s Breath Conspiracy had left them all paranoid, jumping at their own shadows as if the Arishok himself would appear from it.

If those agents knew the true inner workings of the Arishok, they would know that he could cover his tracks. He knew how to move silently through the dark and instruct his army to do the same, eyes trained to drink in the moonlight. They would know that he was never defenseless, not truly, for even in the moments when Asala was not in his hand there was a dagger in his belt, chipped and simple. Never used, never discarded.

Maybe their Divine told them, and they simply failed. Or maybe she did not even understand herself.

If she did, she would know that the Arishok was hidden in their shadow. Right off the coast, nestled between the blanket of night, the glassy ocean, and a jagged outcropping of rocks, a Qunari war fleet sat. The ocean was calm, gently cradling the ships as they floated around the ocean’s maw. No sailor in their right mind would chance the current around the rocks, and the distance from the coast morphed the sight of the ship's harsh angles into that of stone.

An underhanded plot. The kind that the Arishok found himself more and more comfortable with.

The ship groaned beneath his feet as it rocked, but he paid it no mind. It was the only noise from the otherwise silent night, the majority of the crew asleep and the stragglers on watch. It made it easy to focus on the unfurled map before him, the candlelight making the edges flicker like waves crashing into the coast. There. Tomorrow night, they would slip further south to that small island, and in two days’ time, they would be upon the border of the Free Marches…

Yes, this would work. Asala’s pommel was cool under his touch as his hand drifted to his side. The whole night seemed to share his certainty, offering only the smallest breeze to break the stillness. The candles rippled as it blew through the open window, though they seemed to burn even brighter afterward.

The Arishok straightened his back, the tense muscles protesting at the action. Within a week he would hear from his spies hidden around the delta, and then new plans would have to be made. Now was the time to rest.

The large pauldrons around his shoulders were the first to go, then his bracers. He set them to the side of the cabin carefully, the way he always did and always would, just underneath a dramatic painting of the Ferelden countryside. Then his gloves, belt, scabbard…

His hand closed around open air.

“After all the trouble I went through, you better not let this thing out of your sight again.”

The Arishok calmly pulled the small dagger from his belt and turned. A figure perched on his dresser, Asala almost dwarfing them as they held it lightly with both hands. A hood obscured their features, but nothing could hide that gravely rasp. “Kadan.”

Azariah’s head tilted to the side, allowing a bit of light to kiss the sides of her mouth. Scars and wrinkles and dark blue veins webbed from her lips to her neck. After a moment she adjusted, sitting fully down on the furniture and allowing the sword to rest across her lap. “You kept the dagger.”

Her cloak was dry, and so was the glimpse of padded armor that he could see underneath. Either a boat was tied to the side of his warship, in which case his night watch would need to be disciplined, or she had swum and simply waited to dry off. Vashedan, she could have been on the ship since their last port a week ago, tucked comfortably away under the crow’s nest like a spider.

The Arishok pushed such conspiracies from his mind. She was a shadow, liquid and primordial in ways that no person should be. He had long since come to terms with the fact that he would never understand the skills she possessed. “How long?” It was better just to ask.

He knew she would smile before her lips even moved. “Sten-”

“Arishok.”

Azariah pushed the hood back. Almost a decade since he had seen her, though he could hardly believe it. Her auburn hair, now close to her scalp, was quickly turning slate gray. More veins overtook her, almost turning her whole visage to a monochrome blue. They wormed up her face, coming to rest under her now nearly-white eye. A chuckle erupted from her chest, and for a moment the Arishok saw her different, with fresh tattoos and eyes the color of clovers, but when he blinked the vision was gone. She blinked, the candlelight dancing in her pupils. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Kadan-”

“Warden-Commander.”

The Arishok placed the dagger on the desk with a huff. Azariah made no move to stop him when he lifted Asala from her lap and placed it against the wall, and he made no attempt to hide the curiosity in his gaze. “The Divine sent you.”

“I volunteered.” Azariah shrugged. “Leli says ‘hi,’ by the way.”

When the Arishok was Sten, he had the privilege of seeing the feared Hero of Fereldan’s first journey on a ship. Foolishly, she had insisted on going with him to Par Vollen. “I saved the fucking world,” she said, already slipping away from her own celebration. “I think I get to take up traveling.” And, foolishly, Sten had eagerly agreed, even allowing the other Warden and the other painted elf to tag along, though he considered tossing them overboard nearly every day.

He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of his kadan when the journey started. How would sunshine, untainted by Ferelden’s wet muck of a climate, feel against her skin? What about the salt spray against her cheeks? What would she think of sailing to the place where the sky and ocean met?

She had grinned, eyes twinkling, and then he watched as the Grey Warden, champion of the blight, the very woman, woman, who had a knife to his throat before he could draw his sword in Haven, bowed over the side of the ship and emptied the contents of her stomach.

The memory almost made his cheeks move. She looked much more comfortable with the churning beneath them now, though the Arishok wondered what would happen when the waves started to pick up. “Grey Wardens are supposed to be neutral.”

Azariah didn’t deign to respond, just rolled her eyes. You of all people should know better. “You look well.”

“You do not.” He felt himself frown. “The Calling?”

“Louder by the hour,” Azariah admitted after a moment. “I have maybe a year?” She fidgeted with the silver ring on her left hand. “I’m sure your spies know we’re looking for a cure.”

“Yes. But you will not take it, will you?”

She looked almost angry for a moment, hearing sounds on the wind that he would never be able to. “Of course not. Not while I have a-”

The Arishok finished the thought. “Duty. The whole before the individual.”

“And Ali wonders why we get along.” She shook her head, an easy smile appearing. If the Arishok were another person, he might think that the damage to her nerves stopped it from reaching her eyes. “I want your opinion.”

His hands now rested idly on her knees. “Yes?”

“Should I go to the Deep Roads, or should I wait for you?” Azariah laughed as the Arishok’s brows raised. “Please, I love you, but there’s no blighted way I’m just letting you invade the continent I hauled ass to save.”

“Then kill me now.”

Azariah drew her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on one. The leather boots under the Arishok’s fingertips were the same she wore when they met, embroidered with flowers and coins and swirling designs. “I can’t. I’m too sentimental, I’m afraid.

“Battling hordes of darkspawn is my duty, but maybe I’m a little selfish. Maybe I want to go out with someone I respect. The archdemon failed, so you’ll have to do.”

The Arishok scoffed. “With?”

“Please. Let’s be realists.” She tapped his bicep, twice, and the Arishok stepped back to let her to the floor. Her boots made no sound against the planks. “I’m giving Leli your location.”

“And my maps as well, I assume?”

“Ah, how I have missed you.” No longer attempting to hide them in her sleeve, she crumpled the parchment into a pouch at her side. She raised her hand and the Arishok immediately stooped, closing the distance enough to let her tiny fingers trace the cut of his cheekbone. He set his own hand on top, her skin too cold. “Take care of yourself, my friend. I can’t bear the thought of anything happening to you.”

“You as well, kadan.” The boat rocked. Azariah pulled away, the very shadows of the cabin almost rushing to embrace her as she walked to the window. “I never gave you my answer.”

Her back was to him now, but he could feel the way she rolled her eyes. “Yes, you did.” Azariah lifted herself to the windowsill and spared one last look over her shoulder. “See you soon.”

And then she stepped forward and the darkness swallowed her.

The Arishok did not rush to the window, simply strode. The water below him was empty, as were the sides of the ship. She was gone, a ghost, ethereal.

He did smile now, truly.

It was a quiet night, a confident night, save for the lapping of water and, the Arishok almost thought, the gentle sound of wings.

#i dont think ive written anything for azzy ever. wow #dragon age #my writing #azariah tabris #'hey do you wanna kill each other? great cool love you bye'

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burnwater13 · 4 months

Text

Illustration of Luke Skywalker entering the access way to the bridge of Moff Gideon's ship. The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 8, The Rescue.

Grogu didn’t like to brag, but he knew Luke was going to find them and help them. How could he not? Grogu had told Luke that he needed his help and why. On that basis Luke agreed to come and help. It was really as simple as that.

Now, that’s not to say that Grogu knew that Moff Gideon would be kidnapping him and that his dad would have to do everything within his power to find and rescue him. He hadn’t expected anything like that to happen. Nope.

He had simply needed another Jedi to join him at Ossus and explain to Din Djarin in nice simple words that there wasn’t a Jedi Order anymore. Ahsoka had left that door open when she told Din Djarin about the seeing stone on Ossus and all that. Grogu needed someone else to tell the Mandalorian that Grogu couldn’t be returned to his ‘kind’ because his ‘kind’ didn’t have a place to be returned to.

Grogu guessed that was why, when the rest of them noticed the X-Wing, they were worried. Even frightened. They didn’t know about Luke and they couldn’t understand how just one person could make enough of a difference. Which was pretty silly because each of them, in their own ways, had made a big difference as an individual.

He would have been happy to tell them not to worry and put their weapons down because, come on, they were watching the same monitors as he was watching. If the ‘mysterious’ caped figure could cut down all those dark troopers, then they didn’t actually have much of a chance fighting against them. But Grogu knew it was Luke. He could sense the strength of the Force within the younger man. He wasn’t worried.

Grogu had turned to his dad and explained that Luke was okay. That he was the person Grogu had contacted on Ossus and everything would be okay. He was actually pretty surprised that Din Djarin had listened so well and understood him. After all, the Mandalorian was the one who told the rest of them to put their weapons down when Luke was literally at the door. Grogu had been very happy about that. Din Djarin was doing better at connecting with him and that was very gratifying.

Of course, that being happy with his dad understanding him only lasted about thirty more seconds. Why? Because that’s how long it took for his dad, the fink, to hand him over to Luke!

“Are you a Jedi?”

Come on Dad! Of course he’s a Jedi. And he’s going to tell you…

“Come, little one.”

What? No!

First, enough with the ‘little one’ thing. He has a name. He told Luke his name when he first contacted him. What the heck? Did he forget it already? It’s not like Grogu is some sort of hard name to say.

And instead of his dad saying something like, “Thanks for helping us. Much appreciated. We have friends to visit on Tatooine”, Din Djarin said, “He doesn’t want to go with you.”

Well of course he didn’t. He, being Grogu. He appreciated the fancy work with the lightsaber and using the Force to crush the energy sources of the dark troopers. Who wouldn’t? It was professional courtesy to be impressed by that. But none of that meant he wanted to go with him. Why would he? He was perfectly happy with his assignment with the Mandalorian.

“He wants your permission.”

Luke! No! You were supposed to talk Din Djarin out of that!

Just another thing Luke had forgotten. Sheesh! Grogu sighed at both of them. He hadn’t even finished training the Mandalorian. How could he take on a student like Luke? There was so much to teach him.

Starting with, when someone instructs you to say ‘Sorry, pal, I can’t take time out of my busy schedule right now. Maybe you should finish your course of learning first and when he’s ready for a new student, he’ll contact me and we’ll set something up? Okay? Good’, that’s what you are actually supposed to say. You are not supposed to give a Mandalorian a lecture about the importance of training being the key to skills development and control.

Mandalorians already know that. And they love it. They thrive on it. Along with that whole pledging your life for the other person’s safety thing. They love that too. It’s cost them no end of pain and suffering, but it’s who they are, so they can be sucked right in with that. Grogu was overwhelmed by how much he’d have to teach Luke if this was really their starting point. Basic listening and doing what I tell you. Uff.

He thought his dad understood that. Just a little bit. After all, he promised that they’d see each other again and then took his helmet off and all that. But no! Even after the teary eyes, Din Djarin still handed him off to Luke.

‘Don’t be afraid’

Afraid? Of what? The boredom? The tedious schedule? The repetition? Training a Jedi wasn’t for the faint hearted or the impatient. Grogu had spent half of his lifetime being trained by them. He knew all about it.

Training Luke wouldn’t be the worst thing that ever happened to him. But what about the Mandalorian? How could he just walk away from his training? He had the Darksaber now! How was he ever going to learn how to use it without Grogu teaching him? Was this really the best way to serve his friends? They hadn’t even gotten to the part about choosing your path and the light and the dark. That was just asking for trouble.

Then R2-D2 had rolled over to him and told him that it would okay. Grogu had plenty of time to teach them both the lessons they needed to learn. One by sharing his presence and one though his absence. That seemed to be the way humans learned and R2 had trained a lot of them. R2 also promised Grogu that whenever he wanted to take up teaching the Mandalorian again, R2 would be happy to take him to his padawan.

Grogu saw the wisdom in that. The Force obviously wanted Grogu to spend time training Luke and that’s what he needed to do. He just hoped that it would keep a sharp eye on the Mandalorian, in the mean time. Grogu didn’t want to have to rush back just to save him from giant critter. He should have learned that lesson already.

Luke Skywalker entering the bridge of Moff Gideon's ship. The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 8, The Rescue.

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin #Luke Skywalker

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abeinginsand · 11 months

Note

:D Hi Countless! How about 2, 3, 7, 9, and 31 for Sparrow!

Heya Baba!! :] Thank you for letting me ramble about Sparrow once again hehe 2. A canon or headcanon hill I will die on

Hm, strongest thought that comes to mind is that Sparrow loves his family (especially his kids) so very much, more than himself even. Also related, Sparrow and Rebecca having Normal as an accidental pregnancy isn't something awful. Maybe I feel strongly about this because...I was an accidental baby myself? But it kinda bums me out how harsh some folks on here were being about the reveal. Unplanned does not automatically equal unloved or unwanted is all I'm trying to say I guess.

3. Obscure headcanon Sparrow has always loved playing with his food, often using the edible materials to make mini food towers or little scenes or expressions. With drinks, he likes to mix them a lot to see the colors change or to making silly shaped stains on available napkins/his clothes/other material. As an adult, he still does this--just at home or when he's relaxing in the woods/park during a break (with picnic basket). Yes, he is one of those people who will press every drink machine option to get a little of each flavor in the cup. When he was little and left alone with other people's food plates, he'd start making art out of them too! He would then pretend he didn't do anything when the person returned and watch to see the reactions. He convinced a few of his elementary school classmates the school was haunted this way. 7. Age/height/weight headcanon So I think all the kiddads are in their 30s in s2, I assume Sparrow and Lark are 35? 10 in s1 and 25 years past... speaking of years, was listening to the uncut of s2 ep 1 yesterday and one of the things cut was Anthony saying it might be 30 years instead of 25. Height wise, I think Sparrow is like 5'9 and Lark's 6'. Sparrow closes his eyes to the truth and says he is 6' anyway (even now he still likes to match in some ways). Also, Rebecca is taller than them at 6'2. I don't have any specific weight hcs outside of Sparrow probably isn't that toned compared to Lark due to different fighting styles (hand-to hand combat heavy Lark vs Long distance caster Sparrow). Still skilled in hand-to-hand combat though when necessary. 9. Scene that first made me love (or hate) the character In the first ep, when Sparrow proudly talks about his doodler mascot design and also mentioned trying better next time about setting fires at the school haha. (I interpreted that last bit to be Sparrow talking at least, may be remembering wrong). The twins introduction in general seemed so fittingly chaotic as young kid characters. Kids will do the most unusual stuff (ex. being a menace to trees) simply because...why not! seems fun! I adore the whimsy and also understand Henry's frustration and concern about their actions too. 31. If the had a tumblr what would it look like? Chaosflower as the username, probably says "a beloved wolf" in the little blog descriptor along with whatever pronouns he's feeling that week. It would look pretty and/or cool palette wise with this night sky banner that has stars, a bright moon, various soft glowing flowers, and wolves walking along the path. Which looks normal etc UNTIL you zoom in and sees the skulls and debris laying in the sand and that some of the wolves have suspiciously reddish fur and glistening teeth. Also the banner has fake constellations that make various shapes...probably characters from shows/books/podcasts etc that he likes. He is so thrilled whenever someone sends in an ask commenting on the banner and is just waiting for the opportunity to explain in great detail all the info he put into it from the setting, the wolf names, to the meaning of each flower type. He also has a wolf icon--actual picture of a wolf with a pink rose on its head and what seems to be the unfocused image of a person (probs a teen) high-fiving the wolf. He wild shaped, posed, turned back into normal self and posed on the other side, stitched the image together. Its an art blog mainly where he posts fanart including animatics and lots of silly memes probably (<-- based on the artist Sparrow hcs from the bonding with Taylor idea). I think he speaks a lot of Spanish daily (with family atleast) but mostly writes in English for school work etc. So he enjoys writing at least half of his tumblr posts in Spanish or with a mix of both languages. Probably makes wolf drawing tutorials sometimes, and of course he has a wolfsona of his own.

#sparrow oak garcia #sparrow oak #dndads #dndads s2 #dndads headcanon #abeinginsand talk tag #ask meme #abeinginsand writing tag

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hoodie-buck · 2 years

Text

that won’t happen to us

just another finsihed fic that was lost in my wip folder <3

rated g | 2.8k words| read on ao3

summary:

Opening the door, Eddie was not met with the pizza person, but by his best friend instead.

Buck looked adorable, standing there with a sleeping bag in one hand, duffel rested over his shoulder, a bashful smile splayed over his face, Buck turning those blues just out of Eddie’s view.

“Got room for one more?”

-or-

another fic in which Buck goes to the sleepover instead of meeting Red

Eddie turned toward the door when he heard the doorbell ring, calling out behind him as he went to answer it.

“Pizza’s here!”

The kids all hollered with joy at Eddie’s announcement, the sound of little footsteps heading to the kitchen sounding behind him.

Opening the door, Eddie was not met with the pizza person, but by his best friend instead.

Buck looked adorable, standing there with a sleeping bag in one hand, duffel rested over his shoulder, a bashful smile splayed over his face, Buck turning those blues just out of Eddie’s view.

“Got room for one more?”

Well, it wasn’t the pizza he and the kids had been looking forward too, though this was certainly much better.

“Of course. You know you’re always welcome here.”

Buck ducked his head in that way he usually did when he was avoiding something, Eddie stepping back to let him in.

“Buck!”

Christopher came over as quick as his crutches would allow, falling right into Buck’s arms. Buck lifted him into the air, spinning Chris around as he went.

“Hey buddy. Hope you don’t mind me crashing your sleepover?”

Chris grinned up to Buck, shaking his head.

“Can you help us build a fort? You make the best ones!”

Buck looked over to Eddie who simply smiled to him, waving his best friend and kids off to the living room. Eddie watched as Buck gathered all the blankets and pillows around the house, not even having to ask where anything was; he’d been over too many times to count.

While Buck entertained the kids with his fort building skills, Eddie went about the kitchen, gathering paper plates and cups, along with napkins that he set up on the table.

When the doorbell rang again, the fort was complete, Eddie smiling fondly as he walked past to collect the pizza.

The two of them helped the kids get set up with their slices of pizza and drinks, guiding them into the fort so they could watch a movie while they ate.

As Eddie began to plate his own pizza, Buck reached into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet, offering out a wad of bills. Eddie was quick to shake him off. “You’re not a guest here Buck, besides, I invited you.”

That shy smile was splayed across Buck’s face once more as he thanked Eddie, placing the bill back into his wallet before digging into the pizza for himself. Eddie grabbed them out a couple of beers, sliding one over to Buck. They stood in the kitchen, eating over the counter, a comfortable silence falling around them.

“So, what made you change your mind?”

Buck shrugged, using his bite of pizza as an excuse not to answer Eddie.

“Well, I know Chris and his friends are excited to have you here.”

Eddie was too, he just didn’t quite know how to express that without admitting all of his—feelings.

“Yea, they’re great. Can’t believe he’s having his first sleepover already.”

Eddie chuckled. “Yea I’m just glad it’s here this time.

“Probably for the best. Don’t wanna spam anymore parents with your thirty emails,” Buck said teasingly, snickering over to Eddie.

“Hey, it was only ten, thank you very much.”

Buck nodded his head mockingly, Eddie reaching over to swat at him playfully.

They finished their pizza, heading into the living room after to join the kids who had decided they were ready for some games. While Eddie helped the kids get all their plates and cups cleaned up, Buck went through the house gathering the board games with ease, the ones he’d played with them on several different occasions.

“Ok, we’ve got Chutes and Ladders, Trouble, Connect Four, Monopoly Jr, and Candy Land.”

The kids all divided into different groups, each of them picking a game before they were traded around on the next round. Eddie had to remind Buck more than once that the games were for the kids, and that he didn’t need to win every time. The pouty face Buck gave made Eddie want to kiss it right off, though he refrained…for the kids’ sake—not because he had unrequited feelings for his best friend.

As the games began to wrap up, the night dwindling down, Eddie looked to the kids as he clapped his hands together.

“Alright, who’s ready for dessert?”

The kids all cheered gleefully, Buck standing to follow Eddie into the kitchen. Buck rubbed his hands together excitedly, those blues lighting up the room. “So, what’re we having for dessert Eds?”

Right, Eddie forgot that Buck gave him seven kids to look after that night instead of six; the guy was such a big kid at heart.

“I got a big tub of strawberry ice-cream the other day since it’s Chris favorite, so we can divvy that up for the kids.” Buck nodded as he got busy scooping the ice-cream into bowls, Eddie watching as a slight frown covered his face. Eddie moved back to the freezer, pulling out a separate carton that he held out to Buck with a wag of his brows.

“I picked this up the other day too, since I know how much you hate strawberry.”

Buck’s entire face lit up as he took the container of cookies and cream from Eddie, their fingers lingering together for just a moment too long.

“You’re the best Eds!”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal, turning back to face Buck when he could sense him staring.

“You uh, you knew I’d come?”

“I hoped.”

Whatever Buck had been going to say in turn was cut short when the kids called out to them, Buck busying himself with scooping out the ice-cream once more. Eddie dug through the silverware drawer, collecting the spoons, the two of them walking everything out to the living room after. The kids were delighted, all of them crowding around, bowls and spoons clasped tightly in their little hands.

Chris scooped a spoonful of ice-cream into his mouth before looking over to Buck, mumbling around it.

“Can you tell us a story Buck, please?”

All the kid’s attention turned to Buck, Buck looking over to Eddie sheepishly.

“Something kid-friendly, huh?”

Eddie remembered the ‘cautionary tale’ Buck had told Christopher not long ago, Chris refusing to sleep alone for the week after.

“Uh, well I have this pretty cool one from today. Your dad even helped.”

Christopher’s face lit up along with the rest of his friends, Eddie settling in as well.

“So, there was this apartment fire,” Buck said, raising his arms up high to demonstrate the tall building, the kids gazing toward the ceiling as his arms reached higher. “There was a deaf woman who was near the top of the building, trapped in her apartment.”

“What does deaf mean?” one of the kids asked.

Eddie chimed in for Buck, the two always falling into sync, even during story time.

“It means that she can’t hear, so she had to text 9-1-1 where she was so that we could help find and rescue her.”

Buck nodded in agreement, continuing on with the story.

“And since her building was completely on fire, and the ladder wouldn’t quite reach up to her window, we had to climb to the top of the other building so that we could jump over to it.”

The kid’s face’s all made an ‘o’ shape as their eyes widened, their little bodies sitting forward to hear the rest of the story.

Eddie remembered all too well Buck wanting to do the rope rescue, Bobby sending him up along. He would follow Buck anywhere, no matter what; they had each other’s backs. Eddie had simply shaken his head, following the dumbass that was the absolute love of his life; what other choice did he have?

“Yea, so when we got close enough, your dad helped harness me in,” Buck paused, turning to Eddie, their eyes meeting in an instant. Eddie could feel his fingers ghosting over Buck now, tightening the harness into place, tugging on it to make sure it was secure. Buck had looked down to him with darkened blues, Eddie smiling to him reassuringly. No matter how strong Buck seemed to be, he always liked a little reassurance; Eddie was always happy to be the one to offer it.

Buck ducked his head again, though Eddie didn’t miss the fond smile that crossed his lips.

For the next part, Buck stood, really getting into character as he went through the motions, acting them out for the kids.

“After I was all secure, Eddie helped lower me down so that I was outside the woman’s apartment. I used the wall to push off and my body swung forward so that I could crash right into the window to break it open!”

“Wow! You’re so brave Buck!”

Buck smiled to Christopher before telling them how he fastened the woman to him, the two of them safely heading back out together. It was about that time Eddie began to tune the story out, not quite ready to relive it yet. It had been a badass save, and thankfully they hadn’t lost anyone, though Eddie couldn’t help but to remember how he’d had to leave Buck to take over the line, watching as the rope had burned in half, Buck sailing down to the ground below. He shivered at the memory.

Buck went back to tell them about how they’d rescued the cat first, Chris and his friends yawning by the time he’d reached the end.

“Alright kids, I think it’s time for bed.”

None of the kids argued with Eddie, moving to gather their sleeping bags and pillows, tossing them out haphazardly under the fort. Buck and Eddie helped the kids get situated, both of them bending to ruffle Chris’ curls, pressing a kiss to his forehead before stepping out, turning the light off as they went.

Eddie moved back to the kitchen with Buck following right behind him, the two of them working quietly to clean up the kitchen as best they could without disturbing the kids.

“You know, you could make pancakes in the morning for the kids if you want. I’m sure they’d love it.”

Buck fidgeted with the drying towel, not meeting Eddie’s eyes.

“Uh, there’s nowhere-nowhere for me to sleep?”

Eddie knew he was referring to the couch, his usual spot when he slept over.

“Well, you brought your sleeping bag, right? You can sleep in my room.”

Eddie wanted to offer his bed, though that was probably too forward.

“I um—you don’t mind?”

“Nope. I told you, you’re always welcome here.”

Buck’s lips titled up into a soft smile, one Eddie easily reciprocated.

With the kitchen cleaned, Eddie turned off the lights, beckoning Buck to follow.

In his room, Eddie offered Buck the bathroom first, moving to clear a space for him on the floor. He chose the side that was closest to where he slept, not letting himself overthink it; there was more room on that side, ok?

When Buck came out, he was wearing a pair of sweats, his button-up sat awkwardly above it.

“I uh—sort of forgot a sleep shirt.”

Eddie waived his hand absently toward his dresser, leaving Buck to pick out a shirt as he headed for the bathroom to go through his own routine.

After dressing in his own set of sweats and a t-shirt, Eddie exited the bathroom, stopping dead in his tracks. Buck was bent over with his backside to Eddie as he rolled his sleeping bag out, Eddie caught up on the shirt he was wearing, Diaz spread across his back like it belonged there.

Buck must’ve sensed him staring, turning to greet him with those bright blues.

“Is this-this, ok?”

Eddie wasn’t sure if Buck was referring to the shirt he’d picked or the spot he’d chosen to lay his sleeping bag out, so Eddie simply nodded, not knowing how to answer.

Once Buck settled on the floor, Eddie turned out the light and crawled under his covers, laying there awkwardly on his back. Buck was the closest he’d ever been, though he still felt miles away.

“I didn’t want to be alone.” Buck’s voice was but a whisper, Eddie almost missing his choked-out words.

“What do you mean?”

He heard Buck’s sleeping bag shift before Buck sighed aloud.

“I just—everyone has someone, but not-not me. There’s no one at home waiting for me.”

Eddie wanted to reach down and pull Buck into his arms, though he clasped his fingers tightly together behind his head to keep from doing so.

“Buck, you’re never alone. I mean, you have all of us.” You have me.

“Yea, but it’s not the same.”

Didn’t Eddie know it.

“I know it’s not-not the same, but you know you’re always welcome here, right?”

“Yea Eds, you’ve told me like three times tonight.”

Had he? Oops.

“Well I mean it.”

There was more rustling down below, Buck never able to stay still for long, especially when his mind was racing.

“What if we—what if the team splits up, or-or we’re not friends anymore?”

“That won’t happen to us.”

“Better not.”

There was silence between them for a beat, though Eddie knew Buck was long from sleep, the sound of the sleeping bag sliding over the floor as Buck moved from side to side.

“C’mere.”

The room came to a dead silence then, no rustling to be heard.

As if to further emphasize, Eddie patted the bed next to him, beckoning Buck to join him. There was another long pause before Eddie heard the distinct sound of the zipper being pulled down, the mattress dipping as Buck’s weight joined him on the bed.

Buck sat awkwardly toward the edge, almost as if he was afraid to move any closer.

Eddie turned to his side to face Buck, lifting the covers as he repeated what he’d said only moments ago.

“C’mere.”

Buck hesitated for a minute more before slowly sliding his body toward Eddie, lowering himself down onto the bed, matching Eddie’s position. Eddie gently let the blankets and his arm fall down over Buck, both of them breathing out shakily.

“I promise I’m never gonna leave you Buck.”

Buck whispered into the space between them, his breath ghosting over Eddie.

“How-how do you know that?”

Eddie reached the arm that was resting over Buck’s side up to the man’s head, lightly pushing through his curls. Buck leaned into the touch, pushing further into Eddies’ space.

“Because you’re my best friend, and the person that I wanna wake up with and end every day with.”

The person that I trust my son with more than anyone, which is why I made you his legal guardian.

Buck’s blues fluttered back open, Eddie refusing to turn away as he let his truth sit between them.

“I love you.”

The admission nearly took Eddie’s breath away, though Buck gave it right back, pressing his lips to Eddie’s in a tender kiss.

“I love you Buck, so much.”

Buck stayed in his space, crowding into Eddie as he pushed impossibly closer. Eddie didn’t mind, wrapping Buck up as he went, sighing out contently when Buck tucked his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck and shoulder.

“You know, I’ve never really been to a sleepover before. I had-had a lot of fun tonight.

A certain sadness washed over them with Buck’s admission, though Eddie only tugged him closer, wrapping him up tightly.

“I promise they’ll be many more to come, even if they’re just between me and you, or the three of us.”

Eddie felt Buck smile into him, the sensation relaxing him wholly. They fell asleep tucked closely together, Eddie never feeling so settled in his life.

When he woke in the morning, Buck was gone, though before Eddie could panic, he heard sounds coming from the kitchen, the smell of pancakes and bacon wafting through the house.

Eddie quickly left the bed, walking down the hallway in search of his best friend.

Buck was in the kitchen, giving the kids turns at pouring the batter, Chris sat up front right next to him. The sight warmed Eddie’s heart.

When their eyes met, Buck gave him a private smile, one that Eddie returned, a promise of something more now held between them.

Once the kids were set up with their pancakes in the living room, the two of them headed back to the kitchen, platting their own stacks before digging in.

Eddie was two bites in before Buck was sliding into his space, turning his head to meet Eddie’s for a syrupy-sweet kiss.

“What was that for?”

Buck simply smiled, swiping his thumb across Eddie’s lips to gather the remnants of pancake.

“Just because I can.”

That was a perfectly acceptable reason as far as Eddie was concerned.

Buck waggled his eyebrows playfully, his arms moving to wrap around Eddie.

“I can’t wait for our next sleepover.”

Eddie couldn’t either, though it probably wouldn’t involve any kid-friendly stories. It’d be more of a ‘cautionary sleepover,’ one he knew Buck would be oh so fond of.

i have another ‘buck went to the sleepover’ fic if you wanna read it here

-tagging squad below, lmk if you wanna be added or removed <3-

tags: @buddiextarlos @swiftiediaz @mansikkaomenabanaani @confetti-cupcake @chimneymisteraprilhan @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @loveyourownsmiilee. @justsmilestuffhappens @prettyboyandthekid @honestlydarkprincess @zainclaw @reallysmartladymariecurie @djdangerlove @constructiononsunset @love-buddie @bifirefighters @mr-and-mr-diaz @blaidddrwg1982 @buddierights @crazyfangirlallert @imsupposedtobewritting @ekstasisandangst

#buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan ‘buck’ buckley #christopher diaz #911 fox #canon compliant #coda to 3 x 16 #buck goes to the sleepover #this is soft y’all #fluff #domestic buddie #first kiss #cuddling and snuggling #idiots in love #read on ao3 #kel(s) writing

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megashadowdragon · 3 months

Text

redraw of emerys son of merlin and gudako

source : www . reddit . com/r/grandorder/comments/199cxqc/redraw_of_emerys_son_of_merlin_and_gudako/

original bio:

Gudako X Merlin: Son

Name: Emerys

Age: 17

Personality: Annoying to the people who don’t like him, but reliable to his allies. Emerys is a smooth talker who can worm his way out of almost any situation with just his words alone. To the unaware, his words and logic make sense, making him win almost any argument, but to those as smart as him, he is a sly fox who they know from the start not to engage with a verbal debate with. While he is no stranger to a fight, he prefers to avoid combat if possible. Mainly due to the fact he would rather avoid pain. This however comes into conflict as he can’t help but rile people up. He also likes to do things that are cool and not exactly practical.

Other Stuff: Born due to Merlin having fun aka [REDACTED] with Gudako . He specializes in elemental and dream magecraft. Using several staffs that he plagiarized made himself. Because he is a smooth talker, he is better at High-Speed Incantation than his father, this is useful when his is running from someone and he needs to cast a spell quickly in order to escape. Speaking of which, running is the one practical thing he excels at. While Myriam is someone who prefers to teleport away and get herself immediately out of danger, Emerys will simply outrun his chasers. As he enjoys the feeling of leaving them in the dust. This has worked 70% of the times he was running from someone.

Bio: Of the many children of the Fujimaru family. There are six the stand out as being a special case due to their relationships with each other, or more specifically, the parents and their connection to the Land of Paradise and Hope. The two children of Morgan: Timothy and Calisto, the two children of Castoria: Cayde and Alina, and finally, the kids of both the male and female Merlin. Through this loose connection, they are known as the “Children of Avalon”.

With the birth of Emerys, the power balance settled. With one boy and girl for each “person” associated with Avalon. Naturally, alliances and relationships vary. And on a spectrum of responsible to troublemaking, the Morgan kids occupy one end, the Castoria kids occupy the other, with the Merlin kids somewhere in the middle.

When compared to his “sister”/cousin Myriam, Emerys is a natural strategist with a diverse set of skills that makes him unpredictable. Meanwhile, Myriam has untapped leadership potential and more powerful magic circuits, she has less ways to use them. Emerys on the other hand is an all around who uses elemental magecraft as well as dream magic that he learned from his father.

Emerys likes to accessorize, to an often unnecessary degree. He carries things in his coat that he generally does not need, from things like mystic codes, to a small magnet. The most obvious example of this is him owning multiple staffs. Rather than use a single staff for all his spell casting, he has around 6 that corresponds to a specific element or magecraft. But since he can’t carry them all at once, he had a special vault made where he keeps them, and has the ability to send the specific staff he needs anytime he calls.

However, once it was learned that his staffs he made were all just ripoffs of one that already existed. The owners fo the originals were less flattered by these imitations and more slighted by them.

There is a reason why Da Vinci won’t allow him in her workshop.

Quotes:

“I must warn you, I have developed a secret technique, one that was passed down from father to son. A skill that is brilliant in scope, and highly effective in execution. And its name is-”

“You like my staffs? They’re totally original BTW.”

“They say my smile is worth a thousand words, all I have to do is speak and I have already won this conversation.”

Relationships:

Father: Father is father. I learned some of my best tricks from him.

Mother: Mother will never admit it, but she gets so flustered around dad, I bet that even without Incubus blood, he could have seduced her in seconds.

Carina: My closest friend and family member. Sure her ego is through the roof, but I can’t call her out since I have one as well. I’m confident in saying we’d make the most powerful sibling duo in our entire family, in theory anyway.

Myriam: We often joke that we are genderflipped versions of each other. Heck we even tried disguising as one another with illusions to see who could keep up appearances the longest.

Calisto: She considers herself Myriam’s arch-nemesis. And I can agree with that statement, those two are gonna be very close as sisters growing up. Just in a different way.

Timothy: Do I consider him my rival? Maybe, if he was anywhere near as good as me….whats that? He’s standing right behind me?

Cayde: He tries so hard at being a ladies' man, he often wishes he had my smooth voice. Although that might be more trouble than its worth if he had my way of speaking

Alina: Why is so serious all the time, I get having Calisto for a sister is rough, but its not the worst thing in the world.

Lavender: I once tried to borrow her staff, but then I remember her mom is a vengeful Goddess who doesn’t like people messing with her kids.

Finn: He made me an offer to make high-quality unique staffs if I did some favors for him. Just what were they? Sorry, the clause in the contract says I can’t tell.

What people think about him:

Da Vinci: I started copyrighting all my stuff once I saw his newest “staff”.

Morgan: *Statement removed due to overuse of vulgar language and insults*

Miles: He can run fast, thats for sure

Carina: He may not be a child of my father, but if anyone says he is only half my brother, I will paralyze them for a whole day. He is the greatest brother I could ask for!

Timothy: I heard you were talking %$#@ about me.

Victoria: There is a reason why Myriam is the court mage and not him.

Duran: I honestly wished big sis made him the court mage, he makes the best jokes.

#fgo #gudako x merlin #fgo fancomic #altermagna #fate grand order

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watermelonsloth · 4 months

Text

Warmth

CW: Mentions of sex and alcohol, rare pair (Itachi x Hidan)

Itachi didn’t believe that he was a genius like everyone said. How could he when he’d done something as stupid as get drunk and have sex with Hidan?

Pain had paired the two of them up for reasons still unknown to Itachi. Maybe it was because he thought Itachi’s paralysis genjutsu was a good match for Hidan’s skill set. Maybe he thought Itachi could better reign in and control Hidan. If the latter was the case, then Pain had apparently been mistaken because Hidan somehow had the same ability to weaken his ability to make decisions like Shisui had. Itachi started the night agreeing to take one celebratory shot after a successful mission and ended the night drunker than he’d ever been in his life and sleeping with Hidan. He couldn’t reasonably explain what exactly happened in between.

He had unsurprisingly woken up before the other, even if he had slept in until sunrise. It was weird how well he slept. Ever since the massacre, Itachi had been an insomniac and was lucky to get over two hours of sleep. Sleeping in wasn’t something he did, even when he wanted to. He blamed it on the alcohol and physical exertion.

Now that he was awake and unable to fall back asleep—whether that was due to his insomnia or pounding headache was anyone’s guess—he was watching Hidan sleep. Usually, he would’ve been panicking after doing something so stupid. He would’ve been worrying about how he potentially compromised his mission or how he acted unprofessionally or his actions being a potential indication that the stress of his mission was finally getting to him. Instead, his mind was hazy and he simply watched the other sleep.

Hidan was a surprisingly sound sleeper. If Itachi would’ve been made to guess before, he would’ve assumed the other snored in his sleep. What surprised him more than the other’s silence, however, was just how relaxed he was. It was uncanny how calm he looked. Itachi may not have known him well, but he did know him to be loud and abrasive at meetings. His unfamiliarity was only furthered by how vulnerable he was. Even if Itachi ignored how the other was still naked, he couldn’t ignore how his body was slumped over in deep sleep. Shinobi, especially rogue ninja at the level of the Akatsuki, never let themselves relax into a deep sleep, even if they were exhausted or inebriated. Every shinobi, regardless of origin, learned how to get rest while maintaining full awareness of their surroundings. It had actually become an indicator that someone was a ninja if their body remained tense while at rest; which was one of the reasons shinobi rarely went undercover as civilians. He was certain that any other member of the Akatsuki would have woken up simply from feeling Itachi’s gaze on them; some of them might’ve even attacked him for it on instinct. Perhaps it was the result of him not needing to worry about someone killing him in his sleep.

Seeing Hidan like this enraptured him. Without fully realizing it, he’d begun studying the other’s face, and maybe he was still tipsy or his hangover was impeding his judgement, but his drunk decision to have sex with him was starting to make more sense. Hidan, no matter how distracting his personality and violent beliefs, was very attractive. He also stood out against the cool-character, dark-features attractive people Itachi was used to seeing in Konoha. If he’d drunk enough to overlook the less agreeable parts of Hidan’s personality, which he certainly had, he could understand why things would escalate. And wasn’t that a dangerous thought?

When a strand of gray hair fell over his closed eyes, Itachi pushed it back behind the other’s ear in a potentially too familiar gesture. He knew he shouldn’t have done that in the same way he knew that he shouldn’t stay in bed and shouldn’t have gotten drunk to begin with. That is to say that he did those wrong things without any lingering feelings of guilt, something that was exceedingly rare as he aged. The only feeling that lingered was a very dangerous feeling of contentment and warmth.

#If you’re wondering why I’m posting multiple fics in a row #It’s because I feel like it #They’ve just been sitting in my docs and I wanted to do something with them #ItaHida #naruto fanfiction #itachi uchiha #hidan #my stooff

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burdenedreverance · 1 year

Text

The Importance of Duty and Choice

du·ty

noun

a moral or legal obligation; a responsibility.

choice

noun

an act of selecting or making a decision when faced with two or more possibilities.

If someone hasn’t guessed a big theme of this blog is the overarching idea of ‘duty’ and ‘choice.’ At what point does someone’s responsibilities end and the consequences of choosing. I like to believe that in writing the character that is Hayden I’ve somewhat developed a throughline in his threads and asks, that he feels obligated to use his natural abilities for a ‘just cause.’ Often times that manifests in a physical bravery and moral courage, as it is the easiest that comes to him.

But a big question people might have is why does he feel compelled to act this way? When one takes a duty onto them it is usually by some outside force more often than not; society, work, religion, etc. These external forces which speak of responsibility and the burdens we share as a collective. That is not always the case. It has been well documented that an individual might simply feel compelled to aide in the public good, for no reason other than it is the right thing to do. Regardless of the sacrifice to themselves, or livelihood. It is why we place such high emphasis on personal responsibility and personal sacrifice. You do not have to do these things, you choose to.

Hayden falls into the latter category, of those who merely feel compelled to look after his fellow man because they are human. That by merit of sentience, existence, and common history he has a responsibility to look after them. To fight the battles that some cannot. He was born with a higher-than-average physical ability, and he is a strong-willed man. If he was born with more wit, perhaps smarter, then he might turn those attributes to the common good.

But he was not. By circumstance and the choices he made, it has made him a fighter. A warrior. His duty isn’t to merely offer his life, to die, it’s to achieve something in the process of it. If by living his life he can better those around him, himself, and the world; than that is his duty. It’s also his choice. I think it’s important to recognize that. That he doesn’t follow dogma merely because of the faction or organization he serves, if he did then his duty would end and begin where they told him it did.

Is it tragic? Maybe. I don’t particularly see it as that. I don’t think Hayden’s story is particularly sad, to me at least. I think it has elements of sadness, of strife. It also has reassuring moments of victory and vulnerability. He falters, he fails, he grows. When someone is guided by their heart, they’re gonna make the wrong choices. It’s accepting those choices, learning from them, that matters more.

It might even seem idealistic, or naive. After all, choosing to suffer on the behalf of those who would regard you little is an net loss. There are some people who will never improve, some people who are beyond saving. There are values that you could potentially attach to the lives of people in dangerous situations. ‘Should I protect myself because my worth and skills are of more use than that of this child? This random civilian?’ The answer is always the same for Hayden. It may not be the right answer, it may not even be the sensible answer.

Circling back. Duty and choice. Responsibility. Burdens are not easy to bear.

He chooses to be obligated to the world. ‘If not me then who?’ You can’t begin to change the world, or even those around you, without mastering yourself. And these standards, yes standards, he sets for himself is in the hopes that those after him does better than he ever could. The biggest misconception of Hayden is that he thinks he can do it on his own; in reality he’s just someone who believes in setting the example.

I think at the end of the day, his joy outshines any melancholy in him.

#meta. insights #headcanon. fog of war #v. the masked forged by injustice . rogue shinigami #v. a blade forged by will . gotei

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tartt9 · 10 months

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what about jamie’s time at city? how did he feel about football whilst he was there?

jamie will never stop loving football. no matter how bad his life gets, he'll always love football with his whole being. that being said, he's never felt so bad about himself as he did during his time with city.

that’s not entirely city’s fault, of course; it’s the fact that james was attending every single match, criticizing jamie about everything jamie had control of ( and some things he didn’t have control of ) and overall just making him feel terrible as a person. his mental health was neglected at best, and instead of trying to help himself heal in that regard, he pushed himself even harder in the gym ( curling 40 kilos ) and on the pitch ( roy knew jamie could make a penalty kick from as far back as he did during the prince of pricks run somehow — and beard didn’t know, which meant jamie had done something like that either during the mannion/cartrick era [ doubt ] or….. at city).

of course jamie would never say a bad word about his former club ( canonically ) but his time within the city first team wasn’t healthy either. jamie got his call up during the 2014-15 season, and made his debut in february 2015. when he was a junior, the team treated him more like a kit man than a player, simply because jamie was talented ( and he knew it ). this is part of the reason jamie had such a reaction to being told to set up cones in s1; he hadn’t been told to do that in years, but he’d been told before. he was bullied by his teammates until the 2016-17 season, when pep arrived, and immediately put an end to that behavior in the locker room. nevertheless, the words they told him, the way they treated him - it stuck in jamie’s brain, and it’s still there to this day.

paddy o’gara was always the bright spot in his days; paddy would do just about anything for jamie, despite his gruff, mean exterior - people would call him the irish roy kent - he took jamie under his wing, even during those first couple of years. he was the one who sat with jamie after training, teach jamie ( from the best of paddy’s centre back knowledge ) how to improve — paddy was essentially jamie’s personal captain. jamie would often find himself at paddy’s house for meals, for days like father’s day - any time he wasn’t with his mum or his childhood friends, you could make a pretty good bet that he was with paddy.

pep’s arrival was good for jamie, even if only because jamie was being treated with less hostility in the dressing room itself. having both pep and paddy on his side made him more confident in his skill, in his talent - that’s when his ego really started to explode. because, since his junior year, he knew he was good enough to be in city’s starting xi. he just sat because of the team’s attitude his first two years, and his ego during the guardiola era. on the day jamie found out he was being loaned to richmond, pep sat him down and explained three things he was supposed to take from his loan period: first, he was to be playing striker, so he should use the loan as an opportunity to develop on offense. learn what you can from defenders there, but do your job and do it well — play striker ( just as jamie’s father always wanted him to. ). second, this was a new team for him, with players he’d never played with before ( roy fucking kent was on richmond, jamie knew it better than anyone ) — work on team building. make them like you, jamie ( for pep and paddy were the only two people to ever refer to him as jamie; the rest of the team simply called him tartt ). third, pep knew that jamie would be getting a national spotlight. going from a second teamer to a starting striker was a big deal for anyone — don’t let your ego get to you. jamie heard all three lessons he was given. he kept them in the back of his mind as he left etihad campus. but, on the drive down to richmond, he got a call from james, simultaneously bragging that his son would be a club’s starting striker, and demeaning him — no son of his ever got put on loan, especially to a team full of amateurs like richmond. pep’s words were pushed out of his head in favor of his father’s. jamie had something to prove.

send me headcanon asks to answer while i move!

#headcanons !#i ain’t rereading all that congratulations or sorry that happened #bring me a paddy i dare you

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