#instead of like. my actual name that everyone always mispronounces anyway

[protect-namine]

I ordered a cold brew latte but they gave me just cold brew (no milk) so I went back to the cashier to very politely ask them if they could put milk in my drink because, well, I was expecting milk. and I also drank a bit already (because I wanted to check if maybe the milk just somehow settled at the bottom or something — no it really is just straight cold brew). it would be a waste to make a new drink so yeah, just add milk to my existing drink.

and I mean, they did add milk, but, you know. now it doesn't even taste good because it's like a very watered down americano with a splash of milk. which is NOT what the picture looks like, because I think the actual drink is supposed to have more milk and less water. but because my cup was still kinda full, they couldn't put that much milk in it. and like, it's fine, people make mistakes. I'll still finish the whole drink. I can drink cold brew, no milk. well I guess there's milk, but this is like... macchiato levels of milk. I'll drink it, but I am a little bit disappointed that I didn't get the cold brew latte that I actually pictured from their menu

#mine musings #it's fineeeeee but i am kinda :( #they also got my coffeeshop name wrong which is why i didn't hear my order right away and i'm like #the whole reason i even have a coffeeshop name is so they have an easy to pronounce common name to use #instead of like. my actual name that everyone always mispronounces anyway #and like. it's fineeee i'll just think that the staff are maybe stressed or new to the job or whatever. it'z fine. give them grace #but i am still kinda sad about my drink :( #like. just from the color alone this drink looks so sad.......... a very sad watered down shade brown........... but yeah #it's fine. whatever

[lilyharvord]

OKAY WAIT I LOVE YOUR CORIANE THOUGHTS!! i never really put much thought into marecal kids besides reading the epilogue or fanfics and being like okay cute. but your headcannon about the political impact of calore children with red blood is so interesting and i 100% agree with you. if you have any further ideas or writing i would love to hear it! the way the world world and silver succession would adjust/react to cal’s abdication and marecal’s relationship post broken throne is so fascinating to me.

🥺 NONNIE, I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED.

First of all, Cal's abdication is the biggest slap in the face to the Silver Secession (particularly Larentia who I headcanon leads the whole thing like a shadow puppeteer. Her husband died trying to keep that Calore brat on the throne, you can bet she's got two bones to pick with him even though she wants him on that non-existent throne just so they can go back to the "old ways"). They took him abdicating personally. They send him letters almost weekly, and they are all super passive aggressive comments about his birthright, and how denying it is akin to spitting on his father's grave, and later akin to pissing on it when Cal just burns all the letters and refuses to reply.

Anyway, the political impact of Cal and Mare's marriage. Ho boi, that one is a dousy. There's a reason they have a small wedding with only their very close family and friends. They try to keep it hush hush, for a little while, but of course the Silver Secession finds out because they find out everything. They bother the living hell out of Anabel until she sends one very threatening letter back after which the letters come far and few between (she never tells Cal what she put in that letter but she always gets a wicked gleam in her eye when he asks). But the political impact of their marriage is heard round the continent. Lets be real here: Cal is no longer a prince, but he is still a very high profile figure in the Nortan government (now the States). Mare is both a prominent Scarlet Guard figure and Montfort one. There are very LOUD whispers saying that Montfort forced them to marry to create a permanent bridge between the two countries. That Montfort is using Mare as a leash on Cal and the States to dictate how they function etc. (Which may or may not be the actual truth)

They dont want kids at first. Cal's a little heartbroken about it of course. He wants kids, has always wanted them. But Mare is right, and their children would be in danger from the moment Mare conceives. Then Mare says fuck it, I want a baby. They try and she gets pregnant. The Silver Secession finds out. Those letters that stopped coming for a while come back, but with a fury from hell. It gets so bad (after Mare is actually almost kidnapped at one point) that they have to go underground and hide until the baby is born. Dane and Carmadon offer the cabin in Paradise valley because it's location is actually incredibly secret and isolated and safe. So they go there, and Coriane is born a few months later. Cal cries in relief because her blood is Red. There is no way the Silver Secession will come after her now, but they try and it is the most hellish three years of Mare and Cal's life. It puts them off from having any more children. There are eleven kidnapping attempts before Coriane is even a year old (one for every month she is alive and breathing air)

Then they just stop. The letters stop coming, the kidnappings stop. Mare and Cal walk on egg shells, Coriane toddles along, growing by leaps and bounds and making them proud every second of every day. She's loud and proud and walks around saying: My name is Coriane BARROW Calore. When people try to call her Coriane Calore. They find out that the Silver Secession is not happy with Coriane being Red. And People whisper when they go to the States. Some people who are not exactly part of the Silver Secession but who still whisper "Long Live Tiberias the Seventh" when Cal passes in the street with Coriane on his shoulders and Mare at his side are not happy either. They sneer at the giggling toddler at his side reaching to touch the pretty things in the market. They jeer at her Red blood when she laughs so hard her cheeks burn bright, cherry apple red. They frown when they see Mare nuzzle her neck and press kisses all over her face. They especially dont like when Cal glares at them until they pull back into their stalls or shops or go back to their coffees and newspapers. Around this time, (In my headcanons) Coriane meets Nikolas Samos (second born to Wren and Ptolemus) and they become instant friends. A dangerous thing of course... for obvious dynasty reasons, and this fuels the Silver Secession for a little while.

Then Mare gets pregnant again. Shade is the definition of a Whoopsie! Baby. They immediately go into hiding this time. They take Coriane, Cal takes a leave of absence, Mare takes one too, and they dont tell ANYONE where they are going. The reason? The nurse who did mare's check up told someone it was a boy, and that person had some nefarious connections to a certain Silver Political group that was running on fumes up until that moment. The first letter that arrives at their little house in Ascendant is written in beautiful court handwriting (Larentia's unmistakable tact in every word of that letter) and swears fealty to Tiberias Calore the Eighth who isn't even born yet. Cal torches that letter with his bare hand before Mare can even read it. Coriane doesn't like being taken away from her cousins and her grandma and grandpa and her aunt Farley, but they go in the dead of night and don't look back.

Shade is born in the middle of a storm like Clara, and Sara is the only person to see Mare or Cal in six months. They come back to Ascendant two months after Shade is born with a healthy baby boy, and everyone looses their minds. There are six kidnapping attempts in two months. Mare and Cal dont sleep for weeks, there is one dead Silver Secession member who got halfway down the street before Mare used Brain Lightning for the first time and liquified his insides. She is so horrified by it she cries herself to sleep for three nights because Coriane saw her do it, saw what her mother could do, and won't come near her out of fear.

But that too passes after a few years, because it gets around that Shade is a Red baby that looks more like Mare and her dead brother than Cal. Then it's back to Coriane, who by now is old enough to begin to understand what is going on around her. She starts to notice the whispers, the pointing, the stares when she goes out with her dad to train. (She accidentally set her bedsheet on fire after a nightmare, and that is where the trouble begins again). The letters start coming again, but they're addressed to her instead. She's only ten, so when she gets the first one with her name on it in pretty writing, she opens it before Mare or Cal notice, and is so confused by what is in it that she shows them it for clarification. Mare takes it and rips it to pieces, and Coriane cries about it, because that was HER letter. They have to sit her down with a very young Shade then and tell her a story about brothers, crowns, and mutations, death, war, and pain, and sorrow, and love. Then she understands. She's eleven when she does her first broadcast to denounce a throne that doesn't even exist anymore. She shakes with nerves in front of a camera, and has to hold a notecard with what she has to say on it. She mispronounces five words, and almost cries when she stumbles over a phrase she doesn't even understand, something about ever and always and crowns being broken. Cal stands behind her the whole time, squeezing her shoulders in reassurance. The nightmares begin after that for him, because there is a letter sent telling him of a distant Calore relative who is very interested in Coriane and would like to meet her. When Cal looks into him, he finds out he's 45 years old. And when I tell you he packed a bag the moment he finished that letter and drove to the airfield to take an air jet himself and kill the man, I tell you that Mare stopped him by standing in the middle of the runway and refusing to let him take off without going through her. "You give them what they want if you go after him." she tells him when he breaks down and kneels before her while she sits on their bed holding his head against her stomach. They NEVER tell Coriane about that, but there is two more letters that come like it.

Coriane and Nik becomes very close, dangerously close. There is one fic I will write at some point where both of them are taken and they actually get them away from Montfort and to a secondary location. There is man hunt led by Cal and Ptolemus and they do not keep those children for long. There is no record of what happened at that dilated mansion in the middle of the woods in the upper States, but Cal comes back with Silver blood under his nails and Coriane in his arms four days later.

When she gets older, much much older, into her later twenties, three different people send requests for her hand in marriage. She burns those letters and doesn't even deign them a response. Shade gets similar requests, and he throws the letters away. The Silver Secession goes out with a whimper, and eventually Coriane and Shade are safe. But inbetween their childhood and those years, people start whispering different things. "The word is changing, it's really changing" they whisper, and then say, "A Calore had two children, both Red, and they are kind."

#(*ask lily*) #(*shut up lily*) #red queen #glass sword #kings cage #war storm #broken throne #post broken throne #coriane barrow calore #shade barrow calore #It's a long post I'm sorry!!!! #I just have a lot of thoughts and feelings on them #especially the political implications of their birth #and Mare and Cal's marriage

[evabellasworld]

I Give You My Heart

Chapter 2

AO3 Link

13+ and above for cursing and mild violence

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Summary:  When Riyo Chuchi’s life was threatened, Commander Fox and Jedi Knight Ava Lira and Eva Bella Young are assigned to bring the senator back to her home planet Pantora, where she will be safe from harm. But when the assassin knows her whereabouts, it’s up to Fox, Lira, Eva, and Riyo to work together and stop the assassin.

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A trooper with red-painted armour rushed through the corridors of the medbay, filled with nurses and doctors going in and out, pushing their patients to another room for further treatment. She tries to be more patient as she has a lot of things on her mind right now, such as reporting to Commander Fox about the current status of the Senate building and the paperwork that she was due next week.

Chae took a deep breath underneath her helmet and pushed herself through the crowd, searching for the hospital ward that her superior officer had told her to meet up at. She had a lot of things to do, but since Fox insisted on meeting her at the hospital, she doesn't have that much of a choice anyways since she has to follow orders that are given to her.

Arriving at room number 1296, she knocked on the door. One of the nurses, who had brown eyes and brown skin, opened the door for her, her checklist in her hand. “Can I help you?” she asked. 

“I was told that a friend of mine is getting her treatment in this room,” Chae told her nurse. “Her name is Senator Chuchi.”

“Ah, yes, she’s in this room right now,” she smiled. “Please, have a seat first. We can only have one visitor at a time.”

“Of course, miss,” Chase nodded, as she sat down and took off her helmet, revealing her black, curly hair with white streaks. She leaned against the wall and placed her left leg on her right knee, her eyes closed. 

For a moment, she found herself floating in space, with only her armour and her hair flowing in gravity. She glided her eyes around her new surroundings, wondering whether she’s actually in space or not. Taking a deep breath, Chae flew upwards and felt the thousand stars within her fingertips. She soon found herself floating in the sea of colourful smokes, staining her armour.

She doesn’t mind, though, since she never got a chance to choose her own colours. As a Coruscant Guard, she didn’t have any choice on having her own interest and hobbies outside her duty. Chae was able to hold her paintbrush correctly and analyze the meaning behind every painting in the art museum and the hallways of the Senate building, but she never got to utilize them when she had to pain her brand-new set of Phase 2 armour.

Chae wonders about the galaxy and how they get their colours, but because the Chancellor always insisted on how her armour is painted, she lost the opportunity to paint the nebulas and supernovas and even the black hole. She had the chance to colour them on the walls of the barracks and her own bunk, since she sleeps there after duty.

“Chae,” she heard someone shaking her shoulder. The black-haired clone gasps and opens her eyes, only to find Commander Fox standing in front of her. 

“Commander,” she sprung from her seat, giving him a salute. “I was told that I have to meet you here, sir.”

“Yeah, I did,” he answered. “I called you here to give me an update about the situation in Cantham House. Have you had anything so far, trooper?”

“From our investigations, we found traces of tripwires that were attached to the entrance, which was what triggered the bomb in the first place.”

“Tripwires, eh? That is surprising, to say the least.”

“I agree, commander. Someone must have thought this through and attached tripwires all over the door, which is difficult to do so, actually.”

“That is true,” he sighed, his hands on his hips. “Whoever done this must have known about the senator’s meeting.”

“But who could have done such a thing, commander?” Chae asked, confused. “Senator Organa, Senator Amidala and Senator Chuchi were friendly to everyone they met, including clones as well.”

“I suspect one of their rivals,” Fox could only guess. “For all I’m aware, most politicians are always scheming and would do anything to gain more power, even to the point of eliminating their opponents.”

“But why, sir? They served the Republic and their people, so shouldn’t they be working together to make things better for the public?”

That is the biggest lie that Fox had ever heard as the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard. “Unfortunately, Chae, not everyone is selfless in their duty. Some made the decision to ignore the people they represent and instead pursue something that is only temporary, such as credits.”

Chae could only frown by his remarks, but she admitted that he has a good point. “But I know not all senators are like that,” she tried to be optimistic. “I mean, Senator Chuchi always defends us whenever someone is picking on us clones.”

His heart flutters whenever one of his vods mentions her name and yet, he remains unemotional on the outside. “In her case, I would make it an exception. She’s one of  the senators that held tight on her principles and her morals, and in this age, that is admirable.”

“It is, sir,” Chae gave a nod. “Oh, there’s one more thing. Jay and Eren have checked the security footage and so far, we’ve found nothing.”

“Well, that is unfortunate but I’m sure we’ll find something eventually,” he answered, before turning his back towards the door. “You may return to your duty, trooper. Let me know if something comes up, alright?”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Chae acknowledged, as she walked away from her superior in what seems to be a half-empty hallway, with only nurses and staff pacing back and forth, with a datapad in their hands. Fox went inside room 1296, where Riyo was sitting on the hospital bed, her forehead covered in bandages and there was a small cut underneath her golden eyes.

“Anything so far?” she asked, as Fox sat beside her, taking off his helmet, revealing his looks. Like his brothers, he had dark brown eyes and tanned skin, along with black, curly hair, with white streaks beside his ears, which he didn’t dye them, unlike Chae. He also had eye bags from filling up paperwork late at night in his small office, which he’s used to it.

“My troops found some tripwires attached to the door,” he told her the truth. “But so far, we didn’t find who was responsible for the bombing.”

“I don’t believe it,” her eyes widened. “Who would have the right mind to place tripwires in front of Senator Organa’s office?”

“I’m also asking the same question to myself as well. How is it possible that there were tripwires when there was no sight of the suspect.”

“Well, I’m glad the rest were okay,” Riyo changed the subject. “Except for Bibi, though. I heard that she’s still unconscious.”

“I’m sorry for your friend,” Fox expressed his sympathy. “I know what it’s like seeing your friend getting hurt and not being able to do anything about it. Sorry if I’m rambling something out of topic.”

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” she assured him. “I’m just grateful that you understood what I’m going through right now.”

He let out a soft snicker, much to Riyo’s confusion. “Did I say something strange?”

“No, of course not,” Fox denied, waving both his hands. “It’s just that you said that I understood what you were going through right now.”

“Is there something wrong with what I said, Fox?”

“No, nothing wrong, Riyo,” he stuttered a little. “I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

Riyo’s lips tightened at his harsh words about himself. “Has anyone ever told you about your soft side?”

“Only my brothers and sisters, and even then, they had to try hard enough to let me out of my shell.”

“That sounds like a typical sibling relationship, don’t you think?” she giggled politely. Fox curled his lips upwards as he recalled the antics that Tori would pull on him whenever he’s occupied with his assignments, from purposely mispronouncing his names to roasting him until it makes his tongue-tied. Despite that, he misses her occasionally and would take the chance to spend some time with her if she’s on shore leave, of course.

“Yeah, that’s what siblings do,” he shrugged. “Do you have any siblings, Riyo?”

Before she could answer him, Fox’s comlink went off, leaving him groaning for his life. “Commander Fox here,” he replied. 

“Sir, the Chancellor would like to meet with you,” one of his subordinates informed him. “It’s regarding the bombings in Cantham House.”

“Roger that, Robin. Commander Fox out.”

Riyo frowned as he stood up and grabbed his helmet, putting it on his head. She didn’t want to see him go, but at the same time, she didn’t want to stop him from doing his duty to protect Coruscant from more harm. “I’ll see you later,” she stared at him, longing for Fox to stay for a while.

“I hope so,” he replied, as he left her hospital room, leaving Riyo in a quiet, blank room, which was devoid of colours and warmth.

#star wars #star wars ocs #star wars original characters #star wars fics #star wars fanfics #star wars fanfictions #clone troopers #clone trooper ocs #clone ocs #female clone troopers #commander fox #clone trooper lip #clone trooper yves #jedi #jedi knight #jedi ocs #eva bella young #ava lira young #senators #riyo chuchi #padme amidala #bail organa

[metoo-desu]

whatever it takes 

shinobu x fem!reader - soulmate au

contains spoilers

approx. 4,500 words sheesh

Two small figures trudged down the mountain side-by-side in silence, admiring the quiet night after slaying a rather strong demon that terrorized a town below. They stopped at a clearing to rest for awhile and to take care of each other’s injuries.

“Isn’t the moon beautiful?” Shinobu hummed, watching her partner slather a salve over a gash on her pale leg. She smiled at the gentleness of y/n’s touch— the Light Pillar had always been so caring and gentle towards her after they had acknowledged their feelings for each other. 

No reply, instead the h/c-haired slayer asked for a roll of bandages and then getting back to tending Shinobu’s wounds. After she finished up, y/n turned her back to her, removing her white and black-spotted haori and unbuttoning her uniform to reveal her bare and bloodied back to Shinobu, who let out a disapproving sound. It was Shinobu’s reckless move that had y/n receive such a nasty wound. Shinobu failed to see that the demon performed a Blood Demon Art towards her instead of y/n, who acted quickly and jumped in and took the hit. 

With how silent her partner was and the hesitation she heard behind her, y/n knew that Shinobu was looking back into the fight and blaming herself for what happened. The Light Pillar lifted her head, her white fur headpiece tickling her cheeks from the movement. E/c eyes searched the sky for the moon that Shinobu mentioned earlier, but only saw twinkling stars. 

“Liar. The moon isn’t even out,” y/n spoke softly to snap Shinobu out of her guilty conscience. She looked over her shoulder, giving her a gentle smile. “And don’t blame yourself.”

“If I had just paid attention, you wouldn’t have been hurt.” 

Shinobu started to tend y/n’s wound with a frown as she popped a cork off of a small gourd and began pouring the contents on her wound to wash the blood away. It was such a deep gash, the Insect Pillar would have to stitch it up. Pulling out her stitching kit, she immediately began the procedure. 

“If I was fast enough, I would’ve been able to turn to deflect the attack. I lacked speed that moment— my fault, not yours,” y/n argued. 

“Y/n..”

“How about we were both at fault? Yeah? It was tough fight after all. We should be ashamed it took two Pillars to defeat a Lower Moon.”

Shinobu chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re right, let’s agree to disagree.” 

From then on, the ladies continued their descent after their rest. Shinobu stayed quiet the whole time, occupied with her thoughts, concerning y/n. The Light Pillar stopped in her tracks and took Shinobu’s hand. 

“What’s the matter?” 

Y/n‘s eyes bore into Shinobu’s violets, “I should be asking you that, silly. Are you still blaming yourself?” 

“What? I was just thinking about..,” Shinobu trailed off, her eyebrows furrowed as she thought deeply. “I was wondering who could it be. It seems that your rose is almost at full bloom.” 

Shinobu meant y/n’s soulmate mark. A delicate rose tattoo at the front of her left shoulder, that blooms until she would meet her star-fated lover. Y/n honestly forgot about the mark, too busy with work and her feelings for Shinobu. 

“Is it now?” Y/n mumbled, placing her hand over her uniform that covered her mark. “That’s unfortunate. That would mean my time with you may be nearing its end. Or not.” She wiggles her eyebrows at Shinobu with the last comment, hinting that she would continue their affair despite meeting her soulmate. 

“Don’t. I’ve heard cases that soulmates share pain whether it’s physical or emotional. A betrayal towards the other will cause both to go through an excruciating pain for trying to defy the stars. They can die from it.”

Y/n looked up at the sky for the second time again, “Well, curse the stars. I’d go through any type of pain just to be with you. Whatever it takes. If it’s the only way, I’ll go through it.”

“I don’t want to see you in such state,” Shinobu huffed out. “We’ve agreed not to be together because of our work. And because it’s considered scandalous and immoral.”

“We’ve agreed, but did it stop our growing feelings for each other? Because where I see it, the more it grows, the more painful it will be to be with my soulmate.”

Shinobu retracted her hand and walked away, y/n right at her heels. “Exactly, we’re already in too deep. We have to put a stop to this.”

Y/n chose not to continue the argument. There was no way to change Shinobu’s mind. Either way, it’s going to be painful for her, whether she chooses to be with her soulmate or Shinobu because both endings will just lead her to losing the Insect Pillar. 

Unless if she makes it in time. 

“The moon is beautiful,” she finally replied to Shinobu’s words. 

But the stars aren’t. 

✧˳✧ ˳✧ ˳✧ ˳✧ ˳✧

“Hey, moth girl! You good?” 

Inosuke shouted over his shoulder as he dealt with the wave of demons that seemed never-ending. Y/n scoffed at the use of the nickname the pretty boy assigned her during their current situation. Just because her outfit resembled of the white ermine moth and her Light Breathing Style, didn’t mean she wanted to be called that. He knew her name, why does he keep using ‘Moth girl’?

“Did Muzan bring the whole demon population in this freaky fortress because it seems like it!” Y/n growled, skillfully taking down thirteen demons in a short amount of time. “Come on! We have to get to the others fast so we can take down that son of a bitch!”

The boar-headed slayer killed the last demon and caught up with y/n. “Who is this Moron anyways?” he asked, mispronouncing the world’s very first demon’s name.

Well technically, he wasn’t wrong.

“The man that plagued us with demons! Damn it, there’s so many turns! What kind of fortress is this? It seems impossible to reunite with everyone! There’s no way that Muzan would have a shortcut to anywhere!”

“Ha! I can make a shortcut to anybody!” Inosuke puffed out his chest and laughed rather cockily. 

He stabbed the wooden floor with his katanas and held his arms out. Y/n didn’t question his actions and just took down the demons that charged towards them before they could disturb Inosuke’s form. The boy jumped up on his feet and grabbed his katanas before sprinting down the hall without a word to y/n. 

“The hell, Inosuke!” The Light Pillar quickly decapitated the demon she held off, wanting no time to be wasted, she ignored the rest of them to run after the boy. They were stopped at a dead end and y/n stared at the back of the boar mask in annoyance. “Well so much for finding a shortcut.”

“I didn’t say I can find a shortcut, I said I can make one! Behind this wall is a demon slayer, I betcha!” 

And then he began striking the wall with his katanas with all of his strength. Y/n groaned, turning around, ready to slay the last of the demons she left once they catch up to them. As their footsteps neared, she tightly gripped the hilt of her sword. 

“Sixth Form: Blinding Light.”

The moment the demons turned the corner, she swung her sword twice. First, at their eyes and the second to decapitate them while on their dazed state. 

“GRRRRAAAAH!” Inosuke finally broke through the wall, the two jumping into action and joining whoever was in the room. “Out of the sky, Lord Inosuke comin’ in!” Inosuke announced. Seeing the suspicious flying petals, he quickly performed Fifth Fang: Mad Cleave. 

Once the area cleared of the petals, the two landed safely beside Kanao, the Light Pillar checking up on the girl as the Inosuke eyed the demon before them, identifying him as the Upper Moon Two. 

Inosuke finally noticed Kanao’s presence and began scolding her about being beat up. “Shinobu’ll get really mad at you! And she gets really angry!” 

The Light Pillar brushed past Inosuke, staring at the two katanas beside the Upper Moon before her eyes met with the demon’s numbered, rainbow ones. The owner of the familiar and unique katana was nowhere to be seen. 

“Is Shinobu...dead?” Y/n heard Inosuke ask Kanao. 

There was ringing in her ears as she felt her heart break in two and a wave of strong emotions crashing down on her like a tsunami. Tears pricked at her eyes as she remembered all the moments she had with Shinobu, the woman she loves. 

✧˳✧ ˳✧ ˳✧ ˳✧ ˳✧

It was a laughable situation to y/n. The first time she was taken to the Butterfly Estate, she mocked the name of it. The reason why she was taken there was because of her grave injuries after battling a strong Lower Moon. 

Even in her state, she managed to laugh at the name but when the master of the estate walked into the room, she immediately shut her mouth. 

Maybe the reason of the estate’s name was because of the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach, caused by the insane beauty of this lady. 

“Hi, you must be l/n y/n! I heard you recently became a Pillar after a scary fight against a Lower Moon. Congratulations!”

“Is that how you normally greet your patients?” Y/n nervously swallowed, afraid that an actual butterfly might fly out of her throat with how strong the feeling of the butterflies in her stomach. 

The purple-haired beauty sat beside the bed after setting her medical equipments down on the bedside table. “I’m Kochou Shinobu, the Insect Pillar. I’m excited to be the first of the Pillars to welcome the newest addition! Now let’s take a look at your injuries, sure it won’t be that bad seeing that you can manage to sit upright!”

“Actually,” y/n panted, unable to keep up with her Total Breath Concentration, “I think I’m dying..”

She fainted right there and then. 

“Oh my.”

*.*.*.*.*.*

“Are you confessing your love to me?” 

Y/n turned to Shinobu with a grin plastered on her face. The two sat at the engawa, gazing at the stars as they drank tea when Shinobu shared a phrase with a hidden meaning. What the Insect Pillar didn’t know, y/n was a lover of poems and literature, so she knew of the beautifully hidden message. 

“Whatever do you mean, y/n?” Shinobu blushed, embarrassed that the Light Pillar caught her. “I was just saying the moon was beautiful.”

“I don’t think so,” y/n deadpanned, watching the slightest downward twitch at the corners of her lips as Shinobu mistook her answer as a rejection.

Y/n purposely let a moment of silence before she spoke again. “I don’t think you meant it literally but poetically. Just so you know, I’m quite aware of the hidden message,” she teased, leaning closer to Shinobu, watching her uncharacteristically get flustered under her gaze. 

“Feeling the butterflies yet?” Y/n asked her, seeing how uneven Shinobu’s breathing was as pink tainted her cheeks adorably. “That’s payback for when we first met.”

Shinobu tried so hard to keep her cool, but seeing that y/n’s gaze was now on her lips, she just couldn’t. How embarrassing that she had caught onto the phrase so quickly, but now knowing that y/n had good tastes in literature, she was even more attracted to her. The Insect Pillar was also rather speechless at the forwardness of y/n. 

“Also, it’s a new moon tonight,” y/n whispered, their noses were nearly touching. She waited to see if Shinobu would push her away, but she saw that she inched closer as well.

“But it is quite beautiful.”

Slender fingers reached up to the sides of y/n face before Shinobu closed the distance between them and crashed her lips with hers. 

*.*.*.*.*.*

Y/n looked up at Shinobu, who straddled her, both lacking of their uniform and undergarments. As beautiful as she was in y/n’s eyes in their current circumstance, her breath was caught in her throat by the tears that suddenly streamed down Shinobu’s face. She reached up and wiped them away, y/n’s voice trembled as she attempted to comfort her love. 

“I’m sorry. If I could rewrite the stars, I would.” 

Shinobu covered y/n’s hand and leaned into her touch. She whimpered, “It’s not fair. It seems like the world is taking away everyone I love from me. My family. And now you?”

The Insect Pillar has finally learned of y/n’s soulmate mark. 

“The world isn’t fair. The stars aren’t either.” This time, it was y/n’s turn to cry. 

Y/n never really believed in soulmates, she had completely cut off the idea of any kind of love after her whole family had been killed by a demon. She didn’t want to get attached to people, scared she might lose them in any way. 

That is until she met Shinobu. Her love for the lady was unexpected. She never thought she would be attracted to someone of her own gender. But their love was the type that was looked down upon in the society, considered it immoral for two females to love each other romantically. 

Their line of work, the society, and y/n’s soulmate mark kept the two ladies from going further into their relationship, having to keep their affair a secret. 

It was hard for both of them. 

“I’m here, Shinobu. I’m still here. I’ll always be. For you.” 

That night, their sounds from their love was unheard by the world but seen by the unfair stars and the beautiful moon. 

✧˳✧ ˳✧ ˳✧ ˳✧ ˳✧

It was like something had blown the flames out and ripped the wings off a moth that admired the beauty of the flame. 

Shinobu was gone. 

Y/n was too late to stop Shinobu from pulling through with her plan to poison the demon that killed Kanae. Now this demon that stood before her, smiled while he claimed that Shinobu was very much alive but just inside of him, off to a happy place. 

What a sick man. 

Inosuke acted out first, charging at the man angrily. “I’m gonna chew you up, you scum!”

“Don’t breathe the cold air he spreads!” Kanao warned him. 

Y/n controlled her breathing to calm herself down. She knew it was useless to act out of pure rage, Shinobu would have scolded her if she did so. It seemed Kanao knew more, not just because of her previous fight, but what Shinobu might have told her. Then not a moment later, Inosuke returned to them and handed Kanao her katana. 

“Don’t let him take it again,” he grumbled. “But what the hell are you doing, y/n?”

The Light Pillar looked down at him, making him freeze from the aura she gave off. Of course, other than Kanao, y/n was the closest to Shinobu. He often wondered what was going on between the two Pillars, then he realized he didn’t care. But with the death of Shinobu, he bet that it affected y/n the most out of the three of them. He can literally feel the rage coming from her.

“Nothing yet. I’ll let you tire Douma out, if that’s cool with you.” She put on a little façade, breaking her serious expression with a smirk. “Go crazy, Inosuke. I won’t let him kill y—“

Y/n gasped, taking a step and kicking the Upper Moon away when he almost closed in on them, disregarding the pain that erupted in her stomach. “Tire me out? I don’t think I lost a single ounce of energy even before you got here. Maybe because of that Shinobu girl? I don’t know, but I’m feeling real good right now!” Douma laughed airily, spreading his arms out.

She almost laughed. How long till it starts kicking in, she wondered. He won’t be feeling so good then. 

Inosuke charged at Douma once again, using a move that dislocated all his joints in his arms to get a longer range. When she said for him to go crazy, she didn’t really think he’d pull off a stunt like that. He managed to get a hit, though which was impressive. The boy returned, standing before them protectively.

“We’re gonna do whatever it takes to kill this man.”

“He’s fast. It’s going to be difficult to take him on with the range of his attacks,” Kanao told y/n, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s hard to get near him.”

“I can totally get near him,” Inosuke scoffed.

Y/n nodded. “We’ll keep attacking for now and at our own discretion, but if we’re ever stuck in a situation, follow my orders.”

They both watched cautiously, assessing Douma’s every move when Inosuke went after the upper demon after he stole his mask, waiting to see even just the slightest sign of the poison’s effects. 

The fight rolled out into a more personal matter about Inosuke’s mother. Finding out that this very demon was also involved with the loss of someone so important to Inosuke, something within her snapped. Y/n won’t let him take any more loved ones away! No way in hell was this bastard going to walk out of this room. 

While Kanao and Inosuke fought off his ice doll, she chased after Douma, swiftly dodging the vines and petals that were in her way. Y/n launched herself off from a vine as quick as she landed on it to avoid being frozen, her arms up high and katana in the air. 

“Second Form. Incandescent Strike.” 

Douma turned his head towards her right before she cut off his left arm along with his shoulder. Backing away would be a mistake as he would try to create more distance with his blood art. So she performed every form of her Breath of Light, the demon managing to block off all of the attacks with his fan even after he sent out more of his ice dolls to the teenagers. 

“Wow! You’re strong! Form after form after form!” The demon gushed in excitement, never having a demon slayer cut off one of his limbs. It was strange though. Usually, he would only feel a pinch from such a wound but why did it hurt? 

He tilted his head and looked down at her katana in curiosity. “How odd. There’s no trace of Wisteria poison on your blade. Even so, it wouldn’t have hurt.”

Y/n stifled a cry when she felt an unbearable pain on her left shoulder. Douma didn’t manage to land a single strike on her. Her eyes trailed down to his regenerating arm, a familiar tattoo slowly inking on his pale skin. 

A fully-bloomed rose. 

Douma followed her line of sight, and it was clear that the man rarely paid attention to the mark. “The last time I checked this weird mark was almost a hundred years ago. It was a barely a bud. Now it’s fully bloomed, I wonder what it means.”

“I know what it means, that cursed mark,” y/n whispered, a thousand thoughts running through her head. That explained the stomach pain she felt after she kicked him. 

The pillar didn’t react when Douma grabbed hold of her uniform and asked her to enlighten him, genuinely curious. Y/n must have imagined the slight fearful tone in his voice. She couldn’t blame him, she was afraid the moment she got it. Afraid of what would happen once it fully bloomed, and who she was assigned to be with her whole life. 

Once afraid, now enraged, y/n cursed the stars for the millionth time. Of all people, her soulmate had to be the demon that devoured her one true love. 

Douma clawed at her back, ripping through uniform and digging his nails into her skin to urge this pretty nobody to explain the meaning of the claimed cursed mark. The pain he inflicted on y/n was shared with him, feeling the same intense pain across his back.

“What is this?” 

“The mark of soulmates.”

It was all too much for y/n to handle. Everything came at her all at once— the death of Oyakata-sama, his wife and two daughters, and Muzan’s appearance. She lost Shinobu, then met her soulmate. The overwhelming emotions and pain took over her, making her fall limp in Douma’s hold. 

What is the point? She lost everything.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and made her look up at him. “Answer me. I don’t get it. Why are we fighting? Aren’t you supposed to be my lover?” 

Tears streamed down y/n’s eyes, Douma taken aback at the sight of how truly pretty she was. He felt a foreign feeling bubble up inside him. Was this love? How could this be? They’ve never even met. 

Her lips trembled as she spoke, “Forever.”

Until they die. 

Until they die.

Her vision turned black. Where Douma was supposed to be, there stood Shinobu. In all her beauty. She stared at her with sadness in her eyes. 

Did she watch everything from the heavens?  

Does she know?

“I could’ve stopped you, but I was too slow. Too late,” y/n immediately caved in to her, letting all her feelings out. “I could have saved you, Shinobu!”

Shinobu shook her head sadly, “I’m sorry.”

“I should be sorry! Not you! I’m sorry that I wasn’t there. I’m sorry that it had to be him!” 

The Light Pillar sobbed into her hands. She felt a ghost of a touch on top of her head and around her body, feeling the familiar warmth of Shinobu’s embrace. 

“I’ve hurt you and made you go through such pain. I can’t ever forgive myself for it, but it was something I had to do,” Shinobu spoke softly, tears staining her cheeks. “The stars wrote you a destiny you truly do not deserve. You lost me, but that doesn’t mean you have nothing left to lose. Those who still have, are stronger than the ones that don’t.”

Y/n wrapped her arms tightly around Shinobu and cried into her chest. “Don’t leave me. Please.”

“Don’t let those children die.”

The images of Inosuke and Kanao flooded y/n’s mind. The bond they formed back in the Pillar training came to her, making her realize that these two literally forced themselves a spot in her heart from Inosuke’s constant nagging and Kanao’s silent stalking when Shinobu was busy. 

These children were still out there, fighting for their lives. 

Inosuke was right earlier. What the hell is she doing?

Y/n came back to her senses, finding herself latched onto Douma, her arms wrapped around his frame tightly. It surprised her that he hadn’t devoured her yet. Did time pass by during that vision? 

She heard Inosuke and Kanao cry out for her while they fought even harder to try to save her. The demon before her stood stock still, slowly processing the idea of soulmates. He heard her whisper, “To have someone to love by my side forever? Until we die?”

Y/n adjusted her hold on the katana, careful not to make any suspicious movements that would alarm Douma. She gripped onto the blade instead. Their distance from each other was too close for her to cut his head. Any other attacks would be futile with his regeneration, and their shared mark would just weaken her. There was only one way, and Kanao and Inosuke would have to finish it. 

Droplets of blood that didn’t belong to her landed on her as she pointed the blade toward his back. The lady smiled. The poison was finally taking effect. 

“Feeling the butterflies yet?” Y/n asked. She hugged him tighter, using all her strength not to drop the katana. 

Douma hummed, “Hm, is this how love feels?”

All y/n could think of was Shinobu. 

“Yes.” 

It’s painful. It’s going to be even more painful for him. 

Y/n squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to make her final blow. There was no time for hesitation as it was the only time he’ll be weak. With quick movements, she reached for the hilt of her katana and pulled it towards her with all her strength, feeling the sun-kissed blade pierce through her.

At the same time, Douma quite literally melted into her ‘embrace’. Y/n tightly held onto sword with her bloodied hands to hold the demon down while he screamed out in pain from Shinobu’s poison and y/n’s betrayal. The ice dolls Kanao and Inosuke battled, shattered into pieces from Douma’s weakened state. 

“Y/n!” Both of them ran towards their senior after realizing this was it, their only moment to kill Douma.

Before they could close in on Douma, the upper moon performed a massive blood demon art to protect himself from the two. He tried to push y/n off of him, but the smallest movement of the blade caused another flare of the soulmate’s curse. 

“Forever until we die isn’t really forever, now is it?” y/n weakly chuckled.

Douma controlled himself from hurting y/n to avoid a new wave of pain. He growled into her ear, “Curse you, you wench.”

“No. Curse the stars.” 

Her eyes met with Kanao’s and Inosuke’s equally tearful ones, seeing the hesitation in their eyes. She gave them a warm smile and mouthed her orders. 

‘Do it.’ 

Whatever it takes. If it’s the only way, I’ll go through it.

✧˳✧ ˳✧ ˳✧ ˳✧ ˳✧

Y/n looked up at the night sky in silence, feeling another one’s presence behind her yet she didn’t turn to look as she was mesmerized with how pretty the sky looked. But the stars seemed to look down on her almost tauntingly because of how stupid of a lady she was to defy them and the destiny they wrote for her.

She didn’t care since the full moon was present. If she stared at it long enough, the stars would disappear. 

“I think it’s my turn to ask.” The silence broken when y/n spoke. She turned to the figure, taking their hand in hers. “The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” 

The solemn expression on Shinobu’s face was replaced by a smile. For the first time, both of them shed tears of happiness. Nothing was in their way, they could finally love each other without any worries. No soulmate. No demons. 

Both of them were strong till the end, and will still continue to be in their new beginning because this time, they will write their own destinies. Forget about what the world thinks of their love for each other.

The moon witnessed how true their love was and they’re together now. That’s all that mattered.

“Yes. It is beautiful.” 

#no one asked for it #but just gonna drop this here #soulmate au #but it's not what you think #kny spoiler #kny spoilers #kochou shinobu x reader #kocho shinobu x reader #shinobu x reader #kochou shinobu #kocho shinobu #shinobu #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

[whats-the-story-tc]

13th-15th of May, 2020

"The One Where the Mask Drops"

[INCREDIBLY LONG SORRY]

Hey, I'm not dead! And to show you how incredibly not dead I am, let me tell you a story.

It's around 2 AM that Wednesday, I'm going to sleep. God knows I'm incredibly exhausted, but there's one last thing I needed to write into my diary. One last thing I couldn't go to sleep without.

"please be good to me today"

I went to sleep hoping that finally, after two weeks of feeling like shit when I thought about us, the tide would turn.

That morning, it rained. I immediately remembered a rainy Wednesday morning just like this two months ago, when the rain brought V back to me. I got very excited. Things were going to change for the better again, I felt it. Suddenly, I couldn't wait for class.

8:30 AM that morning, I'm getting ready for my 9 AM class. Google Classroom–notif. V. Private message. Uh-oh, I thought. The make-or-break moment, and not a minute too soon.

V: Thank you very much for your work!

I almost laughed out loud. "Wow, [Name], don't strain yourself!" I remember saying as I read it.

One infuriatingly boring English (as a foreign language) class later, it was time for V's class. I was ready five minutes in advance, but as I went on The Platform That Shall Not Be Named... no one was there. I found it odd. Usually, there are a couple of us by now. Anyway, I didn't enter the voice channel. I waited five minutes in solitude outside for someone to show up.

Well, V did. And I wasn't very well going to leave her alone, now, was I?

She greeted me 0.1 second after I joined. I tried not to be awkward about it just being the two of us, I immediately stroke up a conversation. I told her how I was already waiting, all the stuff you guys already know, and she asked if we had any lessons prior. I told her about one third of us having had English just now. We spent about two minutes alone together, as I rambled about the awkward and unfortunate situation and she listened, mostly in silence.

She was very audibly tired, and said very little, that much was to be expected from a 10 AM class. But... I might just be overthinking it, but I heard something there that concerned me. Something crushed and disappointed, something that told me she wasn't expecting only one person to show. There was something painfully lonely in that voice.

Bookworm Friend joined, about 3-ish minutes into class, and Debate Friend a minute or two later, but they were both muted, so I carried on. I asked V to tell us what happened in school in the past two days, what we missed out on, enthusiastically replying to everything I could, so she wouldn't feel like she was speaking into the abyss, so she'd know I was trying my hardest to be there for her. Then she brought up the tests she was correcting at the moment, even naming a really stupid mistake she encountered with a little laugh. But what really smacked me in the gut was when I brought up the small attendance, and she said: "There's nothing we can do." in this very melancholy voice, like she was giving up. She even texted the class group chat that she's waiting.

How do I know that she wasn't just simply tired, and that's why she sounded like that, so worn and discouraged, especially at first? Because as soon as the others, who don't belong in my friends' circle, started showing up, her voice and entire behaviour did a 180°, as if she suddenly woke up. But she didn't. I know for a fact she didn't. Nobody just wakes up that suddenly.

It took me until that afternoon to realise that I'd just spent 5 minutes with the real V, the same V I spoke to in early December, who didn't try to hide her emotions. Not from me.

If you only heard the next thirty minutes of class, you could never tell she was feeling sad to begin with. And there was a LOT to be heard. Starting with how she mispronounced "cheat somebody out of sth" as "EAT somebody out", which is... well... all I'm saying is, I fell on my knees and tried to laugh as silently as I could. Prime moment.

She said something along the lines of "We're all very sober here", after which I just texted my friends:

S: "Darling, you tell us drinking stories every two weeks, would you mind if I didn't believe you?"

and sometime after, this text was also sent, for which I will not be offering context:

S: "[Name], that was enough sex for 10 AM, I'm gonna pass out"

And, of course, after all that went down, V saying "you can't satisfy everyone" sounded VERY different.

At some point, I attempted to joke around, but as she was reading a message in the chat that was sent at the same time, I got quite the half-assed response. But what happened in the last five minutes? Oh, that changed everything.

Art Friend knew how upset I was that V didn't reply at all to my assignment, and I told her I wanted to talk to V about it. During class, she texted me if I still wanted it, and I told her no, because I'm no longer upset with her. And what does this madwoman do? SHE ASKS ABOUT THE ASSIGNMENTS.

V is absolutely enthusiastic, she goes on about how much she liked what she saw and how creative we were. Art Friend asks about hers. Then comes my leap of faith. It's now, or never.

"I hope I didn't go too far..." I said, a bit nervous, not knowing how she'd react. She never did like me trying to undermine myself. And you guys... she chuckled. Incredibly soft and warm and just what I needed to feel at ease. That already threw me off, but then, she followed it up with: "No, I really-really liked it." I could tell she was smiling on the other side of the screen and that she was completely honest. I had to sit down after that, because I just couldn't believe what I heard. That I really just witnessed all that, that I got a reaction I couldn't overthink and/or misinterpret, because I heard it with my own two ears, in real time. I felt like I could do anything in the world.

And yet, the next day, I didn't do my usual notes for her test. Because what did Specs do all evening instead? I was fucking singing. I couldn't deny being a goddamn theatre kid if I tried.

Friday. The day of the test. I'm restlessly taking notes in the morning, but I don't have the time to get into the analytics of poems, only the basics of the dude's life and works. It makes me incredibly frightened, because V's tests are only easy if you come prepared — if you have no clue what she's talking about, abandon all hope. I had absolutely everything open for cheating that I could open, and you guys? I lucked out. Most of the test was just "Explain what [insert quote] means in 2-3 sentences", and if there's something I excel at, as you've probably noticed, it's talking. It was easy as could be.

The only thing making me anxious were my classmates. They were all trying to ask for help, constant questions and begging, everyone is hopeless, because they couldn't give two shits about preparing beforehand. They were all assured some loser was gonna give them the answers. And the some loser was me. I gave it to them, everything except for the final, longer essay. That was private, only meant for V to read. After all, how was I supposed to show them my essay, that ends like this?:

"Even if our existence is finite, it's always worth fighting for happiness."

And yes, yes it is. Always. Look at me. I powered through weeks of a shitstorm, where every single day felt like years, where I no longer knew or cared what was going to happen. And let me tell you, the sun always shines beyond the clouds. You just can't see it yet. But GOD, you will. You will.

I needed time to write this. There's loads going on at the moment, not necessarily V-related, and I'm trying to work my way through it gently enough that I can make it the end sane and healthy. Currently, it's three weeks since all this happened. One and a half weeks left until school ends. I might get to see V in person again, but we'll see how it goes. All I know is that whatever happens, I can do it. Because even if my existence is finite, it's always worth fighting for happiness.

~ S ♡

[Every story I share here, no matter how specific I get with my wording, depicts actual events from my own life.]

#tc #tcc #teacher crush community #female tc #female teacher crush

[mwolf0epsilon]

DBH - Of Fishers and Seafarers

Sorry for how late this is, I've been struggling a bit with actually finishing this drabble on a lighter note and somehow failed miserably.

In which an android designed to repair NASA's spaceship for the upcoming Io mission, becomes a lot more to the woman that lovingly coded and designed him.

---

    Despite the fact this one project would improve every aspect of deep space exploration efforts, and that it may one day pave the way to the next step of humanity's preservation through the establishing of off-world colonies, NASA's finest did mourn the fact they were sending their most ambitious collaboration into orbit.

It's not that the chief engineers or other assorted members of staff were upset at the prospect of hard work burning up in Io's atmosphere, no the resources and work put into assembling the androids and ship they'd be transported in were not the biggest loss here.

No, they were much sadder knowing that the AIs they'd lovingly programmed and developed, would eventually be lost to the hostility of the vast void beyond.

         It was strange how quickly humanity had gotten used to androids and then begun to openly resent them. From the very beginning when they'd begun launching rovers and other assorted drones into space, NASA executives and lower level workers had always had a special place in their hearts for their robotic workers. But the androids? The androids were held with a degree of respect that far surpassed whatever it is your average Joe or Sally thought of their domestic models.

It wasn't just nerds being nerds and loving their toys. Anyone who tried to say so, would have to face the wrath of Dr. Taylor Fisher, one of the many members of the programming team at NASA, and the self-proclaimed mother of the one AI that everyone was so fond of.

Each member of the android exploration team had a specific set of skills they were built for that fit the role they would play inside the ship, and at least one set of scientists and engineers who adored them, but Taylor's unit was the one that seemed to have captivated the hearts of every human worker within NASA's facilities.

    Taylor was, of course, quite proud of how IO100-P turned out. Having spent so many countless nights fully refining the AI and testing it for bugs and other assortments of issues, she was glad to see the stream of data, inquiries and processes, become something new and unique in its own right.

She was no Elijah Kamski, and her darling Proteus was no Chloe, but she couldn't help just marvel as her project slowly worked it's way into passing the Turing Test.

The other AIs were just as impressive, if not more exciting to test and engage with considering their functions, but somehow her baby had become the most outgoing of them all even if his primary task was focused on repair works within the ship.

He held conversations better, took in information more quickly, and even seemed to retain interests unlike his fellow team members.

He had a personality, which she'd hidden from the stonefaced gargoyles from Cyberlife, but openly shared with her peers.

The first thing she did when she deemed him fit to be put into a body, was seek out the designers and call for some changes to the base design.

 “No no no, he looks too young!” She'd exclaimed “Proteus strikes me as a gentlemanly sort. Older, more experienced.”

 “But he IS very young, Taylor.” The designer, a slightly pudgy man named Rick, sighed “And you know those technicians won't agree to visually unappealing models.”

 “Being older isn't unappealing. A team of spacefarers shouldn't look fresh out of college. They should look respectable!” she'd responded angrily at the mere thought of age being perceived as ugly.

 “Like Cyberlife wants anything but their usual formula…” Rick rolled his eyes in frustration. He agreed with her but he didn't want to upset their collaboration partners.

 “Fuck what Cyberlife's saying! We coded them, we design them.” Taylor snarled “I'm not sending a babyfaced recruit to space!”

It took some work, but they'd managed a small victory. The Androids did not look like eternal doll faced youths, instead looking in between mid-thirties to mid-forties.

They'd promised more pay for the extra cosmetics, but it felt right.

Proteus looked right in her eyes, and it was adorable to look at this remarkable and likeable android, who was both soft-spoken and looked like he could be an average suburban father.

If anything, his love for the three android cats Taylor owned, proved as much.

 “Why three? Was one unit not enough?” He'd asked the first time she'd brought them with her to work.

 “I like cats.” She shrugged “I've always wanted one when I was a kid, but when I saw these three...Eh, call it an impulse buy if you want…”

 “Could you not own a cat when you were a child?”

 “No. At the time android cats weren't in the market, and I'm allergic to cat fur...So yeah...These three are kind of my fuck you to life for giving me a stupid allergy.”

Proteus seemed to consider this before focusing on the three android felines.

Two of them were shaped like the regular domestic model, while the third seemed larger. A common orange shorthair with wide and intelligent looking yellow eyes, a black cat with a noticeable white stripe on her nose and calm blue eyes, and a Bengal cat with forest green eyes. The three had collars of different designs, which merely shared the triangle marker indicating their android nature. They had no visible LED, an aesthetic choice.

 “I've gotten one of them modded to completion.” Taylor stated as he examined the cats that all seemed to be observing him with mild curiosity. “Helps to have a smart cat holding the fort.”

 “Holding the fort…?”

 “It's an expression. Do you want to know their names?” She smiled kindly at the android, who simply nodded. “Alright. The Bengal lady that's currently nibbling on your sleeve is called Terrabyte.”

 “...Pardon but it seems you have mispronounced Terabyte.” Proteus pointed out.

 “Naw, it's a pun. Bengal cats are like, Wilder than regular cats, hence Terra. And then since she's an android, byte seemed like an appropriate contradiction. Nature vs Man and all that jazz.”

 “Ah...I see. I find it an adequate name then.”

 “Good. Lil Terra isn't too refined, she's kind of vintage if you will, but she's lovable. The black one is called Luna. She's in the middle when it comes to intelligence, but that's only because I haven't gotten the time to buy the rest of her upgrades. She's a natural hunter tho, she swats flies straight out of the air!”

 “Luna...Perhaps an homage to your work for NASA?”

 “Nah, I'm just a dumb nerd. I named her after an anime cat.” Taylor chuckled “Sailor Moon kicks ass anyway, and the stripe makes it look like she's destined for greatness.”

 “...I shall have to procure this...Sailor Moon...to understand the context, but I trust the name is fitting?”

 “Oh god I've accidentally introduced anime to my android-son….My bosses are gonna kill me.” Taylor covered her face in amusement before shaking her head “Anyway, last but certainly not least, there's little old Data. He's a smart boy and he's modded to perfection. Intelligent and knows a lot of tricks. Before you ask, yes I named him after another show, but this time it's a sci-fi classic. Who could diss on Star Trek am I right?”

Proteus shrugged

 “I wouldn't know. Perhaps I require more research on the matter.”

 “I guess my boss won't be too angry if I introduce you to Star trek, he was a hardcore Spock and Picard fan when he was younger so... You're gonna love Data. He's the best character and he's like you! An android! In space!”

 “An android in space...Not yet I'm afraid. But soon.”

    Proteus became the primary focus of Dr. Fisher's time until the day he was called in to launch.

It was hard saying goodbye, even harder when he hugged her and confided that he was scared to go to Io, as he knew there would be no way of returning home to her, to his family.

NASA would mourn the android team, Dr. Fisher especially would mourn the loss of the android she painstakingly coded and designed.

Those calm features and brilliant lilac eyes, framed by a pair of glasses that complimented the absurdly adorable academic fashion he prefered, would haunt her dreams for months to come...And more so after the Revolution came to pass. After all, if the spacefarer androids did find a way to return, as impossible as that may be, she may not be around to see her boy again... She could only hope for him that the abyssal tides beyond, would be kinder to him than her health had been to her.

But then again, Proteus was a Fisher, and Fishers were destined to sail the winds of opportunity, be they out at sea or up above in the stars.

#eps writes: #fanfic #detroit: become human #detroit become human #oc stuff #just to be clear why this ends depressingly: proteus survives as foreshadowed but dr. fisher dies of a terminal illness #her cats are all he'll have of her when he does return #now i made myself sad ouq #also the title is a name pun!

[zeldascaos-blog]

Spellwood ~ Mortal Affairs

y’all might have already read this cuz i just posted it on my wattpad, but jic here it is again.

Faustus Blackwood was a man of expectancy and calculation. He didn’t appreciate surprises and therefore it was fortunate that there were not many things in this realm that managed to take him by surprise. That being said, what he saw upon entering the Spellman household that cold winter’s evening came as a complete surprise to him. A shock, even.

He’d been fully prepared to give the residents of the old, dark house a fright of their own as he entered unannounced, but instead it was he who suffered the surprise. He was there thanks to a revelation that had been unceremoniously gifted to him from that Dark Lord that morning. A message that was vaguely horrifying to the High Priest. He had been told that there was a threat in their midst, that the most powerful among them was beginning to waver and that it would be necessary for Faustus to step in and prevent their coven from losing another night member.

He was not told who or where or even when, but Father Blackwood knew that somehow, this related to Miss Sabrina Spellman - as most of the other revelations from the Dark Lord tended to of late. She was the largest source of unrest in the coven, which is why Faustus knew that his message from Satan himself somehow involved the young witch.

Even if his suspicions failed him, he decided that it would only be safe for him to check up on the Spellman household to assure that they hadn’t released any more demons out into Greendale or performed any more mortal exorcisms or resurrected any more human boys. The list could go on, really. Precisely why he felt it necessary to grace their home with his presence. Quite honestly, it was only right to take precaution after all that the Spellman family had done lately.

The High proved to possess impeccable instincts. Even if he hadn’t managed to put together the pieces of the puzzle to realize that Zelda Spellman was what the Dark Lord referred to as the “most powerful among them,” he still had a feeling that she was caught up in this mess of a message, somehow. Even if it was simply by default through her somewhat misguided niece.

To each other, mortals and witches are of utmost opposition. Though they believe themselves to be nothing like the other, they are in fact very similar. Flesh, blood, and bones. We are all made of the same thing, the differences are actually quite trivial. All this to say that both mortals and witches had breaking points. For immortal beings, it’s much higher and easier to avoid, as their lifespan is immensely vaster.

And even Zelda Spellman - the most pious, self-righteous, devout member of the Church of Night - had a breaking point that, when reached, reduced her to the likes of a mere mortal. Had anyone been paying closer attention, they would realize that all that had occurred since Edward Spellman’s death had been leading up to this moment.

Zelda’s life had been challenged with hardship after hardship, disappointment after disappointment, epiphany after epiphany, one curveball after another. It really shouldn’t have been any surprise that all of her suppressed feelings and unchecked emotions were finally beginning to seep out of her. And all it took was the help of a little too much alcohol. She’d never been opposed to enjoying the occasional glass of spirits, sometimes even the bottle. But, tonight, she was drinking something stronger than she had in a very long time - probably not since her wild youth at the Academy.

It was a toxic transparently green potion mixed in with straight vodka, and enchanted to provide its consumer with a hearty intoxication on top of it all. Needless to say, Zelda Spellman was currently three sheets to the wind. At first, her niece, nephew, and sister found it nothing but funny. It was refreshing and admittedly amusing to see their rigidly proper housemate tipsy, but after a while it began to seem rather complicated.

Of course, they still laughed when she spun around with a smile and nearly knocked herself off her own feet, the giggled when she mispronounced her words and couldn’t seem to control her tongue, they cast amused glances at each other when she revealed stunning secrets because she simply couldn’t stop herself. To see Zelda grinning and even laughing as if the weight of the entire world had been lifted off her shoulders was an absolute wonder. It was quite lovely, they only wished that it didn’t take a severely questionable amount of spirits in order to put her in such a state of carelessness.

The difference between Zelda and the rest of her housemates was always projected strongly, and it lied prominently in their different connections to the mortal world. It was quite simple, actually. Because Ambrose, Hilda, and Sabrina all had said connections, whereas Zelda did not. Sabrina was born a half-mortal, Ambrose thoroughly enjoyed forming relationships with mortals, and Hilda had always had one foot in the mortal world as she was never truly cut out for the harsh, unforgiving world of witches.

Zelda, however, was perfectly suited to it. She’d always been the perfect witch, especially after Edward’s death when she felt the need to carry on his prestigious legacy. Everyone that she looked up to was a member of the immortal world. Her brother, the Dark Lord, the High Priest, everyone important to her was a being of night. No mortal had ever gained any kind of respect from Zelda Spellman, and because of the scriptures that she read and the laws that she followed, she refused to permit herself to take even the slightest interest in the mortal world.

She did not indulge in their trivial rituals, she did not contemplate their needless inquiries, she did not meddle in their mediocre affairs. That was not the way of the world. Her world, anyways. But - as the alcohol in her system was about to prove - she hadn’t done all of this on her own accord. Perhaps, she’d bottled down any and all interest that she had in the mortal world so expertly that she truly had convinced herself that she had none at all when, in fact, she did. It was only immortal nature to be curious, honestly it was natural. But, suppression had a funny way of failing when under the influence of drugs, alcohol, love, or dire circumstances. And tonight, there was nothing on her side.

Zelda always had a drink with dinner, and it never affected her unless she wanted it to. She’d always been just that terrifyingly controlling that even mere substances followed her command. Tonight, she’d decided that she didn’t care. That should have served as a warning that the night to come would be interesting to say the last. Zelda always cared. She cared more than she’d ever have the humility to let on.

In fact, it had been Sabrina’s relentless holiday spirit that had driven Zelda to drink that evening. The decorations that the young girl insisted upon setting out, the ridiculously joyous music that Hilda so loved to play on their old Victrola, the mistletoe that Ambrose had hung in the hall with a wink because, to use his words, “just in case.”

Christmas was not something that had ever been celebrated in any coven, for very obvious reasons. Christianity was everything that witchcraft was not, why should any child of night celebrate the supposed birth of the False God’s son? That wasn’t all, though. For Zelda, each and every connotation that surrounded the so-called holiday season was positively ridiculous.

Snow was not beautiful, it was cold and inconvenient, it was entirely too difficult to drive in, there was nothing marvelous about it. Eggnog was not festive and delicious, it was disgusting. The only way she’d ever been able to stomach it was mixed with enough rum to intoxicate an elephant. Holiday movies and specials were not inspirational and uplifting, they were casting a naive shadow of unrealistic hope over the whole spectacle of romance. The colours red and green did not light up the winter darkness, they clashed. Christmas music was not easy on the ears, it was relentless and she’d even go so far as to call it rather petulant as the singers crooned for their lovers that had clearly long since moved on.

But, it wasn’t just the trivial aspects of Christmas such as hauling a literal tree inside and decorating it in the name of mythical fat, bearded man that deterred Zelda from the holiday. It was the very meaning of it. The idea that, during this one time of year, everything was supposed to be so much better. Families were supposed to come together and be perfect, love was supposed to be realized and acted upon, the world was supposed to find a bit of peace. For lack of a better word, Zelda believed that all to be hogwash.

Sure, to most people, the twenty-fifth of December might be a wonderful day filled with joy and laughter and love. But, come the twenty-sixth, there will still be famine, poverty, depressed, and hatred. To turn a blind eye for the sake of a holiday was nothing but foolish. And if there was one thing that Zelda Spellman hated more than anything in the world, it was naivety.

At least, that was the narrative that she’d always projected. Clearly, reality was shining through her hardened exterior tonight. Because, after consuming the entire bottle of whatever practically poisonous mixture Zelda had been ravishing, her true feelings were working their way past her defenses. She’d gone from tipsy to drunk as a skunk in record time, and her family was indulging it merely because she was so much easier to be around after that harsh edge had been successfully sanded off.

After that bottle, it was Zelda herself who insisted that they show an old Christmas movie on the vintage television set in the parlor. Not only that, but she’d encouraged Hilda to turn up the volume on the record player so that the voice of various holiday crooners could be better heard throughout their bleak house. She’d suggested that Sabrina bake some sugar cookies and decorate them to look like Christmas ornaments, she instructed Ambrose to hang the mistletoe in places with easy access, knowing full well that he was inviting Luke over tonight and wouldn’t mind seeing her young nephew indulge himself in some romance, and Zelda herself was a sight to be seen.

She moved around the house - with slight difficulty, I might add, after the spirits had gone to her head and the halls began to spin - with a golden Christmas flower in her hair, a piece of red tinsel wrapped around her upper body like a boa, her glass in one hand and a candy cane that she’d been thoroughly enjoying in the other.

Zelda Spellman was a ghastly shadow of who she usually was, and she looked positively mortal. It was not only deeply inappropriate, it was treasonous. Had they had any sense at all, the Spellmans should have been awaiting Satan himself to stomp his hooved foot and damn them all to spend an eternity in the pit within a fraction of a second. But, instead, they were all having more fun that they’d had in a significantly long time.

Clearly, Faustus Blackwood had been correct in presuming that the Spellman residence could do with a visit from their High Priest. He stepped begrudgingly through the damp, unnecessary snow, grimacing at its inconvenience before marching up the porch steps. He was about to let himself in, as he had done several times before - he was the High Priest after all, he had the right - but stopped when he realized that something was not quite right.

He hadn’t even realized it until now, but there had been a rather friendly glow coming from the windows that were usually darkened by closed drapes. It was almost as if, for the first time in history, the Spellman house looked positively welcoming. It was disgusting, yet why did he suddenly feel warm? That conflicting feeling could only mean one thing - Christmas.

Faustus made a face upon pondering the notion of the mortal’s holiday season. It had always been a source of such conflict for witches and warlocks, himself included. Because as much as they stood against everything that Christmas represented, it never truly failed to provide even Satanic immortals with a sense of unavoidable joy.

When Faustus heard the unmistakable sound of friendly laughter coming from inside the old house, he blinked in surprise. The surprise came not from the laughter itself, but whose voice it was - Zelda Spellman’s. Of course, Sabrina and Hilda were always fooling around, provoking plenty of laughter, but Zelda never laughed often, not even in her youth. Unless, of course, she’d been drinking or indulging in other sinful ways.

Now utterly intrigued, he listened further before stepping into the house, wondering just what he was about to stumble upon. It was then that he heard the Christmas music and he couldn’t tell whether or not it made him nauseous or simply happy - a sentiment that would have provoked a wave of nausea from him nonetheless. He realized that he truly had no idea what was happening inside the walls of the Spellman house. For all he knew, the residents may have been possessed by some kind of Christmas demon or were under some kind of mind-controlling spell or curse. Knowing full well that he needed to get to the bottom of it, especially since it could perhaps have something to do with the revelation he’d had from the Dark Lord earlier that day, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, letting it slam behind him.

Immediately, he was hit with a specific warmth that felt undeniably like coming home. It was then that he realized that perhaps his emotions might be toyed with that evening, and he should have steeled himself in preparation. He was a warlock, he was a High Priest, but he was still a man. He was made of flesh and bone, and his emotions were guarded, yes, but not untouchable.

He recognized the scent of something sweet being baked in a nearby oven, he heard the jingling bells of the Christmas carol that was playing in the parlor, and it took a mere millisecond for him to realize thanks to the garlands going up the banister in the hall that the Spellmans had in fact decorated for the holidays. And who was standing with her back towards him at the opposite end of the hallway? Zelda Spellman, the High Priestess of destruction herself.

Upon hearing her front door shut, Zelda turned around, her curly hair cascading down her shoulder as she moved, and a wide smile remained on her suddenly youthful face. Faustus nearly didn’t recognize her. Because, with that smile, he no longer saw Sister Zelda, his disciple from the Church of Night, director of the Satanic Choir at the Academy, no. He saw Miss Zelda Spellman from the roaring twenties, a flapper girl in all her glory as she drank and laughed with her witchy teenage friends in the basement of the Academy alongside Faustus himself in their youth. He hadn’t seen that smile in ages. Even when he’d gone out of his way to provoke a smile from her, it had been a mere fraction of the wide grin that she so rarely wore.

“Zelda?” He demanded, taking off his coat and pulling his gloves off, no longer needing them in the heat of the house. “What in Satan’s name is going on?” Truthfully, he looked horrified. With good reason. Though, given the state that she was in, Zelda did not realize this.

“Faustus,” she said with a toothy smile, stepping towards him and hooking her candy cane around his cravat to let it hang there. She’d done so in such a childish way that he raised a confused eyebrow at her, “how nice of you to join us!” As she walked away from him and turned the corner to the parlor, Faustus wondered why she was acting so strange, and why she didn’t seem surprised at all to find him unannounced at her doorstep.

Intrigued, he warily followed her into the parlor only to realize that the Spellman family was not alone on that chilly winter night. Ambrose and Luke stood by the fireplace, both of them giving Faustus a rather friendly wave in acknowledgement of his arrival. Hilda sat with an unfamiliar middle-aged man on the loveseat across from Harvey Kinkle as the three were engaged in a riveting conversation. And as for Sabrina Spellman, she was reaching out for her aunt Zelda, attempting to keep an eye on the woman who was clearly in an outer-worldly state.

Zelda batted her niece’s attempts to balance her away with a wave of her hand and Sabrina rolled her eyes, admitting defeat as she sank down into a nearby chaise and looked towards Father Blackwood, a man that she’d always despised but for some reason felt as though he was the lesser of two evils tonight. “She’s drunk.” The teenage witch said with a pointed raise of her eyebrows, gesturing towards her redheaded aunt.

Now, Faustus really was surprised. It was unlike Zelda to become intoxicated during a seemingly innocent evening spent with her family. That being said, it was definitely unlike Zelda Spellman to parade around her home wearing Christmas decorations in her hair as she associated with the mortal boyfriends of her niece and sister. A moment of shock registered on his face, and he looked to Sabrina for more answers and perhaps some guidance, but the young girl had already directed her attention towards Harvey, clearly relieved to have Zelda taken off her responsible hands for the time being.

Having grabbed another glass filled with the almost glowing green substance, Zelda now reappeared in front of Faustus on the threshold of the parlor. Her eyes widened in what might have been fear - alarm, at the very least - but the smile never left her face as she shoved the glass into his hand. “Oh, Faustus, you probably shouldn’t be here.” She began, dropping her voice to a whisper as if she was sharing a secret that she wanted kept from him although he was the one that she was speaking to. “I’m indulging myself in mortal affairs.”

There was a positively giddy glint in her eyes that he couldn’t ignore, he did so wonder what it meant. “You would be utterly furious.” Her voice remained a whisper, but the huskiness to it paired with the specific look in her eyes as well as the lack of distance between the two of them weakened his defenses.

“I am utterly furious, Zelda.” He spoke harshly, though the seriousness of his words never truly reached his face and he knew that. “You’re observing Christmas, of all things!”

Zelda smiled again, happier than she’d been for longer than she could easily remember as she girlishly twirled a curl of her hair with her perfectly manicured finger. “Isn’t it rightly festive?” She slurred, and Faustus now lowered his harsh eyebrows. What she was doing couldn’t possibly be overlooked by him of all people, he nearly groaned upon realizing that if he had any sense at all, he would excommunicate her on the spot. Of course, when it came to her, there were time when he could be rendered positively senseless.

“We don’t celebrate Christmas, Zelda.” He spoke as if he truly needed to remind her which holidays were merely for mortals and which were for night members.

“Of course, not!” She leaned back, suddenly shocked that he would even suggest such an atrocity. But, as she’d lost touch with her sense of balance, Faustus had to reach out a hand and grab her by the waist in an attempt to steady her, preventing the woman from stumbling backward straight onto the floor.

This angered him. He couldn’t reprimand her so long as he had a hand on her precious waist. And he so needed to shout, he needed to tower over her and yell at her for disobeying the strict orders of witch law. She needed to face the consequences for her actions, but while his own inhibitions were lowered thanks to mere physical contact, he knew that he couldn’t bring himself to do anything of the sort. Feeling his steadying hand on her waist, Zelda stood upright once more, leaning towards him, closer than before, and dropping her voice to another whisper. “We’re simply indulging Christmas. We’re not celebrating, just who do you think I am, Faustus?”

He hadn’t seen her quite so drunk in decades, if ever. “I think that you are a very intoxicated woman, Zelda Spellman.” Clearly, he had been right in assuming that he would have trouble reprimanding her, tonight. The teasing air to his voice and intrigued look in his eyes made that as clear as day.

“Well,” she looked up at him through eyes that were suddenly clouded with the subtle kind of lust that was usually present when she regarded him, “isn’t that how you prefer your women?” She was merely teasing, he knew that. Still, it was no way to speak to one’s High Priest. Then again, she had a tendency to confront him in ways that would be considered highly inappropriate to anyone else.

Her head was misty from drink, and Zelda couldn’t help but wonder if her eyes were deceiving her when she gazed upon his face only to find it dancing around her vision or if she was simply swaying back and forth in a ridiculously intoxicated manner. In fact, it was a perfect mixture of both.

“You do realize,” Faustus’ own voice was merely but a whisper as he spoke to her, and he so wished that he could manage to harshen it so as to get his point across, “you’re committing quite the serious act of treason, don’t you?” What should have been a terrifyingly jarring threat came across as merely a teasingly provocative comment, and Zelda was admittedly rather relieved that he was not about to bring down rounds of thunder onto her home and livelihood.

“I know,” she insisted, though her words continued to slur uncontrollably, “I know. And you can punish us tomorrow for it, but couldn’t you just...” she trailed on, and instead of finishing her suggestion verbally, she tapped the full glass that she’d placed in his hands. Faustus suddenly felt himself fighting a smile, Satan forbid, and he forced himself to glance around the room, hoping that taking in their treacherous actions would fuel the fire that was brewing inside of him.

He needed to feel the anger, the irritation, he needed to explode and shut down this little gathering before Satan himself lost his mind. Instead, as he took in the sights, it had the exact opposite effect. And it was uncontrollable. He did not see treason, he did not see a damnable sight, no. He saw a group of people, sipping minty drinks, stoking a warm fire, sharing stories and laughter, and what, pray tell, was so wrong about that? Suddenly, he did not know.

Looking back down into Zelda’s sapphire eyes once more, he was sold. He had no intentions of going back out into the cold, in shutting down this innocent party, in going home to his empty chambers to sit in solitary. Not while he could instead coninue to hold this vivacious witch warmly by the waist and share an evening with several friendly faces.

“I suppose,” he began, staring her in the eyes in a way that should have made her feel vulnerable, but instead empowered her, “I have been known to indulge myself from time to time.” He finished by raising the glass to his lips and taking a hearty sip of the very strong drink that Zelda had prepared for him. Upon doing so, he was no longer surprised to see her in such an intoxicated state, the drink was pure poison and definitely enchanted.

Following this, Faustus Blackwood found himself incredibly satisfied. If not because he realized that the drink would surely get him drunk within a half hour, because the joyous look that his response had produced from Zelda Spellman would be enough to get him through this evening of utter betrayal.

That evening, Christmas was proven yet again to be a positively magical occasion. Because, gathered in the Spellman’s mortuary were two sister witches - one of whom was fabulously inebriated - two mortal men, two young warlocks, a teenage half-witch, and a High Priest, and all through the night, laughter was shared between them.

Sabrina and Harvey sat together decorating Christmas cookies that Ambrose and Luke continuously stole from them sneakily all night. The four adults shared friendly conversations throughout the evening, Dr. Cee occasionally pressing a tender kiss to Hilda’s temple every so often to remind her just how treasured she was. And all the while, Zelda and Faustus continued to lower their own inhibitions through the abuse of alcohol, which allowed them to remain standing together for as long as they so desired. Her back against him as she leaned into him for support as he wrapped his own hands around her waist. When she grew tired of holding her head up, sometimes she’d hazard to let it rest in the crook of his neck, and to his credit, Faustus never even flinched.

It wasn’t like him, not at all. He was a user and an abuser, so used to focusing on selfish personal gain that he thought he might have forgotten how to appreciate another person. But, it wasn’t all thanks to the strong alcohol that he managed to remain in a gentle and rather innocent embrace with Zelda Spellman without even feeling the desire to suggest they take it any further.

He hadn’t even realized, but perhaps it had been different with her all along. Thinking back to the day that she’d professed her suggestive ideas on monogamy to him and in turn he offered her a teaching position at his Academy merely to produce a genuine smile from her, he wondered just what he had been thinking. He’d already received the physical satisfaction that he’d desired from her, their “confession” session had been finished. Sensibly, had that been all that she meant to him, he should have left the room without saying a word, if he really was all in it for selfish reasons. Instead, he professed his desires, his longings to her, and in turn she practically told him that he was all she’d ever need.

And when he asked her to be a godmother to his children, it was his way of reciprocating those feelings. It was not to ensure that he’d get her back into bed in the future, it was not a forced statement to keep his respect with her, as if he owed her anything after they’d been intimate. Not at all. It was to make her happy. It was to keep her in his life, by whatever means necessary. Had he known all those weeks ago that he’d be standing in her house surrounded by her family with her resting gently in his arms as if they were taking part in some kind of mortal celebration, he might have done things differently. He might have simply told her how he felt.

He was only a man. He couldn’t fight certain feelings, certain desires. And the desire to remain in a warm house with friendly people in a light atmosphere, relishing in Zelda Spellman’s company, was something that he could not ignore.

Besides, Christmas was all about indulgences, was it not?

#spellwood #zelda spellman #zelda and fausts #father blackwood #faustus blackwood #faustus and zelda #zelda spellman and father blackwood #zelda spellman and faustus blackwood #faustus blackwood and zelda spellman #father blackwood and zelda spellman #sabrina christmas #christmas fanfiction #the chilling adventures of sabrina #chilling adventures of sabrina #caos #hilda spellman #zelda #hilda #zelda and hilda #hilda and zelda #sabrina spellman #harvina #dr cerberus #dr cee #aunt hilda #aunt zelda #spellmans #harvey kinkle #ambrose spellman #ambrose and luke

[unstoppablepug]

Netflix's Death Note

Okay let’s get some shit down for everyone who watched the anime and those who don’t know why the adaptation was so bad.

Just to be clear beforehand, I do realize this is somewhat harsh and that the original series is much too amazingly complex to shove into one movie and that directing something like this is difficult and stuff would but cut anyways but then again that all goes to an extent.

Immediately from the beginning of this show, our first glimpse of this “edgy”, “misunderstood” teenager with eventually shown mommy issues is just already so off. If they were going to dye his hair, why not make it a little more candid and cover those ugly ass blonde highlights with the actual brown color? The first scene where we witness the horrible corruption of Light’s character is when he attempts to stand up to Kenny..If netflix attempted to even showcase Light’s actual character, they would know that the real Light was completely confident, smart, and a literal genius. He always knew what would happen and wouldn’t be stupid enough to get himself into a situation like that or at least get out of it. The whole point of Light Yagami wasn’t his fear over the death note’s power or Ryuk. Being that crazy genius was what made him the only person capable of using the Death Note without losing his shit completely. Netflix completely destroyed Light’s character and the notion of evil behind it.

Secondly, Ryuk!!!! Just another butcher case. What happened to the sometimes funny and joking to the sometimes objective and cold character? Ryuk was supposed to be a shadow mostly, his point was to only watch how Light transformed the world with the Death Note for his own entertainment. He never threatened Light to make him murder. He never chose his victims. And most importantly there was never any extra rules written in the death note that magically were always appropriate for the next problematic scene. They only diminished Ryuk’s character to a scary death god used to further push along the story and add to the obvious gore intended theme.

Next, Misa Misa. I absolutely loved her in the anime. I was shocked to see her as some emo, obviously-hangs-with-the-wrong-crowd cheerleader. Misa’s character was meant to be a girl who idolizes Kira and is completely in love with Light. She would never be so crazily stupid as to write his name in the death note in order to take it from him. Her relationship with the death note was never supposed to be as important as deciding who would die. She only ever followed Light’s demands and he was the one who made these decisions. She was never supposed to kill the detectives because that was a scene in which amplified Light’s wits and HIS ability to easily overcome obstacles thrown by L. As well as that, the love she and Light had wasn’t real. Their “love” was supposed to showcase Light’s character in terms that he had become cold and merciless to even his own family due to his priority of accomplishing his main goal of cleansing the world, no matter what. On the other hand, I understand this is a hollywood movie and couldn’t go without romance but the scenes of them making out and etc were shown so awkwardly in between their killing.

To the last character, L. Most fans were either of L’s side or Light’s. “Good vs bad”. Cat vs mouse. Their whole intended relationship. And the fuzzy borders of who was who. Netflix did attempt to showcase their battle of wits..except without the wits and gave us instead an amusing little game of chasing? Oh and can someone please tell my why L wore a ninja costume basically the whole movie? Where was the classic white tshirt and jeans. Was also saddened by the missing weird voice change to hide his identity. One good thing was that L wasn’t just another white dude. But, just like everyone else they eventually took away his cool calm nature. We know that he was obsessed with Light and it is indeed portrayed to an extent but he never lost his shit. Chasing light with a gun? Chasing a highschooler with a gun? Really? I do appreciate the insomniac characteristic still being there though. Although impractical, it would have been cool to see him completely barefoot the whole time. Yet great job crushing his secretive, analytical and genius character. At least his back story is the decently accurate except for the whole part where he was trained as a kid.

Lastly, the whole fault in the actual movie production. The whitewashing, completely unnecessarily gory deaths, and lack of the morality problem. I’m not sure why they further had to make mia’s name white instead of just leaving it as Misa? What happened to Light Turner’s brother Timmy lmfao. For a second, when Turner read that page with the oh so scary warning about Ryuk, I really thought they were going to go the whole movie mispronouncing his name. They should have wasted less time on a 10 minute chasing scene or making out to further build the completely necessary relationships in Death Note! Instead they rushed the movie. It seems that the director had trouble mixing in his own concept while trying to keep it accurate to the original story. He portrays Death Note as some teenage romance story with supernatural elements. Something I did appreciate,even though it really doesn’t fit with the original, was the visuals. I appreciated the aesthetics of the neon and dark scenery. But in the end it’s much too deep to condense into this movie without rushing it and leaving the audience confused.

To conclude this, RIP the chip scene and Light’s famous maniacal laugh.

#death note #deathnote #netflix

[zwei-the-penguin-with-a-pen]

‘Stars’

So, this one isn't going to be much of a narrative story, really, just an account of my experiences meeting the cast of RWBY at NebKon. I'll try and make an actual story out of it, but no promises. You guys know, ZweI is a bit of a spazz when it comes to stuff like this.

ANYWAY, two days before the Kon our saga begins!

"ZWEI!" I hear after roaming the bus station for more than a few minutes. I look across the street and lay my eyes on Regular-Sized Jimmy. I say 'regular-sized' because in some circles I'm known as Little Jimmy. This Jimmy doesn't actually know me by either of those names and calls me my real one, but that isn't really anyone's business but mine.

So I grab my bag and haul across the street once the crosswalk lights permit me, and before I can even get in the car Jimmy begins to complain. This, that or the other, just general Kon stuff and things. This wouldn't be a problem if we hadn't had to drive all around Omaha during high-ish traffic and do fifty thousand errands even though one of us just got off a damned day-long bus ride.

RSJ's errands include picking up the Bobb, one of the housemates, bringing her to Omaha Oriental THE COOLEST SHOP KNOWN TO MAN BY THE WAY IF YOU EVER FIND YOURSELF IN OMAHA YOU SHOULD MAKE THE SCENE so she can acquire Kon supplies, a phrase which here means 'all manner of Asian junk food', and stopping at Lowe's for something or other for RSJ to finish his cosplay.

Finally, we make it to their house. My bestie is still at work, most unfortunately, but the wonderful Mick is home. She'd stayed home sick from work, which is never a good thing to have to do, but she felt better by the Kon. Good times to be had by all. After a hug and a few words, I go straight to 'my room' which is in disarray because it's only a storage area.

Mick apologizes for not having the room cleaned and ready for me, and I tell her to do no such thing. Also, I have just realized, as in just now at the time of this writing, that I'm writing in present tense. It fits well, even though I don't like the style, so I guess I'll keep it just this time.

Around 11, my bestie texts me that his occupational imprisonment has ended. I'm so glad he'll be home soon. Once he makes the scene he knocks on my door and proceeds to crash into my bed. Hang time ensues, as it's easier to stay awake with him talking to me. The rest of the roomies are quieter than I'm used to, so I had been dozing off here and there.

DAY BEFORE CON! RSJ works frantically to finish his cosplay, enlisting much help from Mick and at one point trying to recruit me. I inform him that I'm terrible with a paintbrush and would do more harm than good. Ooh, did I mention the Bobb bought takoyaki and shared with us? Good stuff, as far as fried balls of cabbage and octopus go. That was the night before. Anywho...

I try and get a jump on my writing challenge, knowing full well the Kon will swallow all my time the next three days. Bestie has work again because EFF BUCKY AND HIS CONVENIENCE STORE I mean what? I said no such thing! How dare you incinerate that I can't use big words!!

Sorry... not sorry at all. WAHAHAHAHA

FRIDAY, FIRST DAY OF CON!!!

Get packed, stop for breakfast at two in the afternoon, and suddenly we're at the Kon.

And I see cosplay before we ever even park the car. A Garnet from Steven Universe walks by us and we cheer for them. A Doctor Mercy, like from Overwatch but not in her battle gear, parks next to us.

We finally make it into the hotel and I'm completely mystified. There's cosplay everywhere. Did I mention this was my first nerd convention? I go to the check-in area and show my three-day pass to acquire my t-shirt. Then, whatever my bestie and I try to do after that repeatedly becomes entirely derailed as I become enamored with every other cosplayer that walked by me.

RWBY cosplayers seem to be the order of the weekend. I see more Noras and Yangs and Rubys than anything, but there are Torchwicks and Neos and even the occasional Adam. As the Kon goes on I see more Blakes, which is never a bad thing as she's my fave, and Jaunes and Rens and PYRRHAS. I miss my waifu. It's a shame she was murdered, but it was destiny or something.

She was based on Achilles...

Bestie and I make a couple of panels, including 'Walking in Godzilla's Footsteps' which is basically constructing a city out of cardboard boxes and destroying it over an over again. We meet Avatar Aang and Toph Beifong as well as Lord Raiden and even the real Nora Valkyrie. She worked on the Kon staff and was ALWAYS in character. Someone even asked me if she was Samantha Ireland because she had the voice down so well

She wasn't. I tell you, SHE WAS THE REAL NORA! She escaped into our world and wreaked havoc upon us. Unfortunately, she didn't break my legs. Oh well, maybe next time.

Next panel we make is Voice Acting 101, featuring Erica Lindbeck and Arryn Zech. MY BAE IS IN THE SAME ROOM AS ME YOU GUYS! And she's talking to Barbie, apparently. Yep, Erica Lindbeck is the voice actor for Barbie. Every time you see those Target holiday commercials, THAT'S MY GIRL! Also, we find out that Arryn is a massive Digimon fan. Ah, can I count the reasons I love this woman?

The first RWBY signing is right after this panel. We make the scene to find that the line has wrapped around two hallways. After nearly two hours of waiting they close the door on us. We never even got close. Good thing they were signing all three days.

Bestie and I make a short trip to Runza. Good eats, by the way. 12/10 would recommend. When we get back, we finally go to the hotel room and release most of the stuff we've been carrying and decide what we're to do next. I decide to take a rest before whatever the next panel I'm interested in, and I ended up crashing until after midnight and missing it. I catch up with bestie around 1:30, and we make the IT'S 2 AM AND WE'RE STILL GOING panel.

We roam around a bit longer after that before retiring to the room for all of two to three hours of sleep.

SATURDAY! The RWBY signing for this day is stupid early, so we leave the room by 8 and make the scene, and there's already a bit of a line. We end up in line behind a Penny, a Nora and a Ruby that are all friends. This Nora becomes known as 'Nora with the Hammer' because she had a Magnhild prop that was twice her height. Also, I need a title to differentiate from Duct Tape Nora who I met the day before and had an incredible cosplay.

Behind us are a couple fellow muggle folks, and Bestie gets to talking with them about My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. I pop in and out until they start talking about RWBY, at which point I spazz. Naturally. Oh yeah, the line finally starts moving, and before long we can see the doors of the room. Omaha D was the room in question.

Sometime during this wait, I see two professional cosplayers dressed as Ren and Pyrrha and beg for their picture. This happens a lot with different cosplays. Before much longer we're in the room and I can hardly contain myself.

Lindsay Jones notices my bestie's Rainbow Dash shirt and proclaims for the whole room to hear that RAINBOW DASH IS BEST PONY! Bestie warns her that she's in a gigantic den of nerds and that saying such things could start a rumble. She's Lindsay, though, so she should be fine.

I come next, and she thanks me for supporting the show. I tell her it's shaping up to be my favorite anime but that it will be tough to top Yu Yu Hakusho. "Excellent choice! I love Kuwabara!"

"HE'S ON YOUR SHOW NOW! OF COURSE, YOU LOVE HIM!!" I shriek as she signs my sketchbook and the poster for my niblings.

Kara comes next, and I mispronounce her name. She says nothing about it, instead lightly complaining about how the staff wants the signees to cut conversations with the guests short and that her favorite part of signings is the talking.

I'm swiftly approaching my bae, you guys. I'm shook that I'm this close to her. I'm clutching my drawing of her for dear life. Bestie mentions that we went to the VA 101 panel, and she apologizes. He goes on to mention the Digimon thing, saying that he's also a superfan.

"Ooh, Bob's Burgers!" Is the first thing Arryn says to me, noticing my favorite shirt. She asks where I got it after she signs my things, and even asks for a picture of it. THERE'S A PICTURE OF ME ON ARRYN ZECH'S PHONE YOU GUYS!! I'm still shook.

She mentions her boyfriend, as his name is Bob, and I say that I used to watch his show, The 100, but I lost track of it because I'm terrible at watching shows. "So, I made you something..." I say, passing her the picture.

SHE WIGS OUT THAT I DREW HER! "WHOA! SHUT UP! THAT'S SO SWEET OF YOU!"

"I'm sorry I made your eyelash game so strong, but I'm glad you like it!" And then I ask her for a picture. And my soul leaves my body as I snap the photograph.

On to Barbara, still buzzing hard from Arryn. Barb makes puns at my bestie, as he made a joke about the Yang cosplayer a few people in front of us. "DUDE, YANG'S ABOUT TO MEET YANG! tHE UNIVERSE WILL IMPLODE!"

"Yeah, especially if they start cracking jokes..." I mention. Barb signs us and makes puns at us. Lovely times.

And finally, we reach Elizabeth Maxwell. In addition to Winter Schnee, we find out that she voiced Lady Urbosa from Breath of the Wild. Bestie tells her that she's her favorite Gerudo. I get an Urbosa poster for her to sign, planning to give it to Bestie. She notices my shirt and we talk Bob's for a minute.

And our mission is complete, so we make our way to the nearest eats we can find. After filling our faces we find our way to the vendors' block and proceed to spend more money than is humanly necessary. Soon we catch up with RSJ and Mick at a panel on cosplay fabrics. Later we catch the RWBY Q&A, and times are great until that business with that one guy that is not our friend.

We also see Her Majesty the King leaving the bar as we're heading into the jam with Bard and friends. THE BARD LET ME PLAY HIS GUITAR! WE JAMMED SO HARD YOU GUYS! So did everyone in the place. It was a beautiful time, it really was.

On Sunday, Bestie got signed by Todd Haberkorn for a friend of ours, and as he waited he found a Weird Al cosplayer WITH AN ACCORDION! Dance party shenanigans ensue, naturally.

We catch up again later and make the 'How'd We Do' review panel and Closing Ceremonies. We're super bummed that the Kon has just ended. We eventually make it back home, and I crash on his floor before I realize what's going on. The next afternoon I catch a bus back to Louisiana, still spinning from everything.

So yeah, that's how Remnant was made... or something.

I CAN'T BELIEVE I MET MY BAE!!!

*makes heart eyes for forever and a week*

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Day 18: A VA dressed as their character

For once, I have more than a rant for this day. XD

But yeah, meeting them all was glorious.

Oh yeah, i’m finally caught up. Well, i will be when I finished the next fic. Formal wear. Hmm...

#NaNoWriMo #RWBYAC #RWBY Writing Challenge 2017 #Anime Nebraskon #Lindsay Jones #Kara Eberle #Arryn Zech #Barbara Dunkelman #Elizabeth Maxwell #convention shenanigans #not really a fanfic but I'm still tagging it as such #fanfic #mine #ZweI the penguin with a pen #zweiamnotacorgi #I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE I MET ARRYN #Arryn Zech is bae no exceptions

[changji]

There’s a limit for when you’re in school but in summer I can do whatever I want bc it’s a Free Country 🤪 u miss are not allowed to get sick u hear me or else I will personally fly to cali & nurse you 😤 A STARBUCKS DRINK FOR $4.85 EYE- THAT’S SO GOOD WTFF I DON’T THINK I’VE PAID LESS THAN $5 FOR A DRINK THERE. You’re really out here like that

Ah I forgot to say how often I climb but I usually try for 3+ times a month bc the gym is pretty far away (by far i mean 2 different buses & an hour of crying). When I first started I was being taught how to tie a figure 8 knot (which is the most important one you need so you don’t die) and i couldn’t fucking get it right so the instructor had to go over it 193837 times & was getting annoyed @ me. LOL I couldn’t look him in the eye at all and my face had never been redder that day lmfao

At least ur teachers like you. I’m like that one student that never says anything and just sits there with an rbf so idk what my teachers think of me LOL. Half the time they don’t know I’m there. I got marked absent a couple times before but i was there in class 😤😤 ohh that’s cool. Band season runs the entire year for my school but that’s probably bc it’s a credit course. Newborn babies kinda are, it’s when they reach a couple months old they become cute

LOL how do you pronounce breakfast? I say salmon with the L & I get hated on by everyone. Taeyomi was great but changji is even better. Like changbin + jisung? Genius. Legends Only. Jkhsdiweiihfew I’m glad my url has an impact on ur daily life 🥵🥵 languages are so hard, I’m literally illiterate in every single one ik. Ikr? Our names are so easy like how do u mispronounce arella? One time  someone spelt my name as Adly and I wanted to Perish

The chance the skip 2 math levels? Once again ur a genius legend. I could never esp w math holy moly. Okay dark ones it is!! I was thinking either the 1st or 2nd ones? Which do u like more? Ah new friends. The first weeks are always so awkward bc you don’t really know them well so you don’t know how much of urself you wanna expose (or it’s just me. I’m too much of a crackhead apparently). Wait a moment. Do you have multiple buildings at ur school like a uni campus??

Make out spots at my school is this one sketchy stairwell where all the scary ppl are. The whole school just smells like weed bc 90% of the school are potheads. Alright that’s the deal if we die we die together 😤 I have never heard of bathroom portables before,, those sounds so Extra. Are they like a porta potty? Omg speaking of older grades a bunch of girls who graduated last year came to my work & I was like “oh shit lol ik u all this is awkward” 

Oof I’m the older sister so like. Favouritism never works in my favour. My sister will literally start a fight w me but I’m the only one who gets lectured in the end. Like. Bitch u started this 😤 I’m on the older side out of my cousins so I’m just Ignored 😪 I’m placing my bet on 2k words right now for our convos 

-

ah makes sense, i thought there was a time for summer too but it might just be here or i’m dumb 😔 I CANT AFFORD TO GET SICK MISSING ONE DAY OF SCHOOL WILL NOT HELP ME AT ALL ! but thank u for ur concern miss, u should just fly to cali anyway 😪 myb i’ll go to u can i hitchike from here ?? IT IS SO GOOD ITS AMAZING IT WAS SO CHEAP but the drink was super sweet 🤢 i have converted back to normal lattes with no syrup. peet’s is usually 5.20 for my drink and it’s so strong i don’t need extra shots ☺️ 

3 times,, a month,, i go to the mall like 3 times a week, look @ u being so athletic! tbh i sound lame but i’ve never taken a bus (other than a school bus for field trips) before like. buses here are lowkey sketch but it’s mostly college students. i rely on my parents and uber 🤧 sometimes i walk but. i don’t like to but if i have to i will oop. it takes an hour to get there and an hour back then right? i can’t imagine bro omg i’d just die. i know how to knot my shoelaces and never being able to untangle them so i now wear slip ons 🤪 poor ada, were like the same person but that was me when i took a knitting class for some reason and couldn’t do any of it 😪

okay idk if i told u yet but my ap euro teacher asked who’s been to italy so i raised my hand, he asked how it was and i said “the gelato is rly good” and his face was just. utter disappointment. turns out he was asking abt the art but he didnt clarify it and we weren’t even talking abt art so now i’m known as That Girl 😔 it’s hard to miss me oop, if it’s quiet then i’m sleeping & all my teachers last year knew this 😪 how do u get marked absent?? i wish band was a credit course but it’s only extra curricular 😔 are ur teachers snakes i will Step on them. newborns look fake but yeah they get cute when they’re like half a year old. 

like. brek-fust by my friends says brek-fist like it’s more of a u sound than an i but go off u idiots. salmon with the L,, ada,, no,, if u say carmel instead of caramel i’m gonna riot. ugh thanks bro i was lucky someone gave me this url, but nohyuckclub? aka the author of the most legendary mark lee social media au? A Whole Legend, but treerachas? my absolutely fave 🥺 languages are dumb i don’t know english i don’t know spanish my vocab consists of sksk and i oop, and that’s it. HOW DO U MISPRONOUNCE ADA LIKE. when i saw ur name i was like ay-da not ah-da, ppl need to learn bro it’s just said how it’s spelled. AND PERISH LOL I LOVE THE WORDS U USE

i’m actually dumb tho i just hate math oops, i’m more of a lunch kind of person if u know what i mean 😉 JK IM GROSS STOP ME and i like the 2nd one (the red one right? idk it’s all pretty u choose) i don’t wanna expose myself but it happens bc i’m just naturally a crackhead oops. but yeah we have multiple buildings! my campus is pretty small tbh? compared to other schools we’re really small, there’s like 2k kids here and i wanna die. it’s so crowded in the halls like get away from me u smelly thot. we have 3 buildings connected by 3 hallways, and a few other ones like the science buildings, music room, portables, 2 gyms and classrooms. in total i think there are 10 buildings? how’s ur campus like?

do you have one big building or smth? in my middle school had stairs and. stairs aren’t fun i hate them. if people kissed on the stairs everybody would hate them bc they’re blocking the halls LOL. we have our legendary D wing bathrooms where people smoke its so funny how often i got offered a roll,,, people straight up vape in class its so funny. but yeah a porta party. disgusting 🤢 in my head that’s what i call it LOL, a portable bathroom… i hate when i see people from school or just. ppl in general, did they recognize u?

U SPELL FAVORITISM WITH A U THATS SO WEIRD FUCKING AMERICA but im lowkey spoiled (highkey) but i. don’t pick fights, its my brother who does that LOL, he gets lectured tho so,,, not my problem oops i have a lot of cousins but we split it when we were younger so its wrong but teens (now adults but still called teens), kids (now teens but still called kids), and the adult adult cousins (which is the only correct one LOL) but i fit into the kid category so,,,, also we have almost 20k im literally SCREAMING, including this we’re at 20,712 words im-

#ADA WE'RE THE WORST #KEEP READING AGAIN BC WE SUCK #queen ada 💞 #mutuals #asks

[trav3llingstrang3r]

Notebook 3

So I have been having difficulty trying to make my objects (myself and my name) fit into the War and the Figure of the Refugee framework and so I realized that that’s because it fits more into the Immigration and Citizenship framework so I’ve changed up my previous notebook to fit into the new framework. Also I realized that my previous Notebook 3 didn’t post and so here’s the new one.

My name has two spellings. One way is H-a-n-i, which I prefer and is how it is spelled in Somali. The other is H-a-n-y.

When filing paperwork for our sponsorship with the U.N my mother had a caseworker whose name was Any (like Annie), and it was pronounce relatively similar to mine. The lady, when learning my name, commented how my name was really just like hers except with an “h”. This thought must have stuck with my mother because she filled out all of our legal papers with my name spelled h-a-n-y. My mother did not know it at the time but she was at this moment creating two different identities for me.

I don’t know why the one letter made a difference in my mind, it was just one letter. However that one letter, which was completely replacing another, was symbolic for the new life and journey I was about to embark on. Just like with I had to drop the letter “i”, I had to drop my old life and take on this new letter, new life, in a new country with a new culture. My mom tried to convince me that new meant better. It meant a fresh start and my name was actually prettier with the “y”. But I couldn’t let it go.  “Y” wasn’t “i” sufficient? “Y” did “i” have to be dropped? Why did my name have to be new? Why couldn’t my name stay the same? Of course it was never about my name. The letter ‘i” represented myself before I became a refugee, when the world made sense and there was stability in my life. I missed my life. I missed my friends. I missed how everything used to be.

Hany is a girl that isn’t sure who she is and is torn up about it. People never pronounce her name correctly. She is called “hey-knee” or “honey” and she hears “your name isn’t white so I won’t bother to say it correctly” or she is called “haa-knee”, or “henny” and she instead hears “you and your name don’t belong here”. When first going to school, I adopted this, what I called “Americanized”, version of my name. I introduced myself as “haa-knee” (emphasis on the “a” and the “y”). I was “Any buy with an H”. I convinced myself that everyone was already going to mispronounce my name so why not choose for myself a universal and consistent incorrect pronunciation. If they were going to say my name wrong anyway I wanted to be in control of what they said.

My first 6 years in the U.S I was a legal resident but technically still a refugee. Even though we had finally found safety in the U.S, my hooyo kept on moving us around. This refugee spirit never left her because even though we had finally found safety in the U.S, she kept on moving us around. She’d hear from one of her friends about some city with better schools or job opportunities or better quality of life and that was that, we were on the move to the next place. I detested her friends.

During these times I dealt with instability, because as soon as I became accustomed to a new place, we would pack up and move on to the next place. It was hard and heartbreaking to move away from any progress I may have made in trying to establish an identity for myself. I would spend months trying to show my peers that  “haa-knee” the girl from some unknown country in Africa was normal (whatever that meant). I didn’t know the words “refugee” or “immigrant” at the time so I just explained that I was Somali but now I was definitely American. But then why did I dress differently? Why did I speak differently? Why did I take too much time to think of words and call soccer futbol? Would I go back to Somalia if the war stopped? I wasn’t a citizen afterall. After a while they would stop asking questions and I didn’t eat lunch alone because they saw I was normal after all. Hooyo’s efforts paid off. She took my siblings and I to the library every weekend because she said “reading will help you learn english faster”, especially reading out loud. “We were Ameerikaan now”. I became better and better in Ingriis, so much so that after 4 years I had lost my accent. I was disappointed to find out that I was still far from being Ameerikaan.  

After 6 years I finally became a citizen. This is when I learned that a piece of paper would not automatically fix my identity crisis. I had internalized the belief that I couldn’t be American without citizenship, that I didn’t know how to react when I realized getting my citizenship didn’t automatically make me feel American. What I learned from having lived in 4 different states was that the same beliefs were held about me at each place by a completely different set of people. Americans were definitely consistent in their attitudes about who was American and who wasn’t. Only dad cadaan were automatically American. If you strayed by a certain amount of shades you could never be seen as American. And although sometimes dad madoow could be seen as American that all changed when they wore a hijab, like me. And so even people who weren’t cadaan assumed I wasn’t American at first meeting. This had to do with intersecting identity as a Black visibly Muslim woman. I could never be seen as a citizen automatically. I inherently had to be an outsider. I would always be a refugee, an immigrant. So I knew that citizenship wouldn’t change how I was going to be viewed by everyone, but I did think it would change something in me and I would gain clarity concerning who I was. I had spent so much time internalizing that I was an outsider that I still didn’t have a solid identity. Before my citizenship, yes I was technically a Somali citizen however, I didn’t grow up there. All I had from there were faded memories from my childhood. If I went back to Somalia, I would be an outsider because as much as hooyo had preserved the “soomali dhagan” in our house, it wasn’t the real deal. I would be completely lost there. At the same time, even though I had spent my formative years in the U.S, and I grew up with the American culture and way of life, I always believed myself to be an outsider so much that I couldn’t connect to it and identify myself as an American.

While I was dealing with this, my family moved to California that changed everything for me. I started to tell people the correct pronunciation of my name. By this time I was tired of going by a name that I associated with instability, uncertainty, constant movement. I accepted that people were going to get my name wrong but at least I could be my authentic self. “Hani” (pronounced Han-nee with emphasis on the “n” not the “a” or the “i”), was who I identified more with.

Hani is a girl who is slowly learning who she is, and who is okay with the slow journey in getting to know herself. I have learned that the words “immigrant” and “refugee” aren’t dirty words. As “Hani” I accept myself as a refugee and an immigrant. I have multiple homes. I am Somali and American. I can fit in anywhere and everywhere. My experience in constant movement showed me that I can pick up, go somewhere new and make a home out of it. I am not ashamed of who I am. “Hany” was a version of me that was ashamed and broken up about her identity. I didn’t see myself fitting in anywhere and it was so lonely. I tried to force myself to be someone I wasn’t. I believed I was in control and therefore when circumstances showed me how little control I had, it tore me up inside. As “Hani” I am my true self. My name is still pronounced wrong. I still hear “your name isn’t white so I won’t bother to say it correctly” and “you and your name don’t belong here” however I am more certain with myself and no longer need any validation from others. I know this country was built by people like me, and that I follow a beautiful tradition, the tradition of immigration. I am okay with not being in control, I have let go and instead of resisting I go with the flow. I am always ready for whatever direction life will take me. I am not immobile or rigid. Instead I am flexible and yielding. I adapt.

[creatingpathstowander]

Lol "loss"?

I reblogged this ask game, and this is one of my prompts.

My friend, Anonymous Reader:

You didn’t specify a pairing for this prompt, just the word, so I took a few liberties with this prompt. It also ended up being a lot longer than a drabble, at close to 5,000 words. It’s a very rough draft, but the angst is so strong that I cried a few times while writing it. Please enjoy this painful, terrible fic.

As you’ve requested, here’s a Voltron: Legendary Defender story in which Lance is a hero, Keith is selfish, and both Paladins lose something before they even have the chance to appreciate it in the first place.

Loss Prompt: The Worth of a Life

“Hey, what’re you guys cahoots-ing about over there?” his voice is light; bright and beautiful and enchanting and gratingly obnoxious all at once, as always. It’s just a bit more… distant than usual. It’s less like Lance’s usual voice, and more like a memory of what Lance is supposed to sound like. He knows it’s not quite right, not quite conveying the cool and composed persona he wants, but he’s trying his best. It’s hard just to remember how to breathe given the circumstances, so trying is all he can do. Breathe. Speak. Breathe again. He pushes on, and Keith sucks in a breath of his own to keep from telling his boyfriend to shut up. Nobody else can hear what he’s thinking, can feel what he’s feeling, can know the thoughts lurking just below the surface of his mostly-conscious mind. Keith doesn’t want to confuse or alarm their already terrified charges any more than necessary. And besides… Lance doesn’t need to be silenced or belittled right now. He needs to be comforted and validated and understood and –

“No cahoots-ing on my deathbed!” he hits the punchline of his own sorry excuse for a joke so hard that it rattles the fragments of bone that’ve come loose inside his ribcage. He tilts his head back as far as he can manage and laughs like he’s said the funniest thing in the whole universe. He tries to make that sound normal, too, and as far as Keith is concerned he very nearly succeeds. His laugh is rapid, and breathy, and genuine, and largely uninterrupted. It’s musical and ethereal and amazing and, again, gratingly obnoxious. It just isn’t… present. It fades out around the edges, as the warmth of it is trying to sink back into his pale, sand-colored skin. As if it can reinvigorate the parts of him that Keith can’t look at, that make the Red Paladin’s stomach curl in on itself like a dying animal. As if it can halt the progression of death as it creeps across Lance’s weakened body.

Lance himself lets the last laugh fade away, the distant look in his eyes and the slight shaking of his body the only warning either Keith or their anxious audience receives before he’s doubled over with a cough that seems as if it wants to tear him apart from the inside. His mind goes blank for a long moment, unable to process the sight of fresh blood in the crook of his elbow. There’s just the shock of bright red, the muddled scents of copper and acid and the last space goo they’d had back at the castle. His eyes go dull, and words leave him – even in his own head.

Keith shudders, decides it would take too much time to stand up, and instead crawls across the dusty concrete to reach Lance. He leans his own body against the same giant, mechanical lion’s paw that’s been keeping his boyfriend in a semi-upright position all this time. With a long, stuttering sigh, he lifts Lance into his lap and holds him close against his chest. Lance wraps an arm around Keith’s neck, what’s left of the other one reaching toward him only slightly before giving up and falling back. Lance closes his eyes, face buried in Keith’s chest. He shakes again, trembling with a cold only he and Keith can feel. The Red Paladin shivers in response, and then stills.

Wait. He can’t hear Lance’s breathing. He can’t feel it, either. The other teen is pressed so close against him that he can feel their hearts beating together, but he can’t feel his breath. He isn’t breathing. He’s been focusing on the rhythm of breathing for nearly half an hour, and now he isn’t focusing on anything at all.

“Lance?” the teen giggles at the sound of his own name, and Keith has the sudden desire to know if the galra have a god – because if so, he wants to thank them for keeping Lance alive… at least until help arrives. He places a kiss on his lover’s forehead, whispering instructions on how to breathe in case Lance forgets again. The Blue Paladin nods, and the inner mantra of reminders to breathe in and out starts back up in his head again.

He speaks anyway, deciding it’s worth both the mental distraction and physical exertion, “No cahoots-ing, Keith.”

“I’m not cahoots-ing. I’m… talking. That’s all.”

“Hm? Who’re you talking to?”

“The kid…”

“Idiot,” Keith almost bristles at the insult, but he manages to catch himself before Lance can hear his thoughts and get distracted any further, “you can’t just say you’re talking to the kid. There’s, like, fifty of ‘em in here. They’re the whole reason we’re here. There’s no the kid. Dumb Keith. Silly Keith. Pretty Keith. Soft Keith.” He mumbles on, his original point lost in thoughts of his boyfriend. Keith is just one person. Better yet, he’s Lance’s favorite person. He’s easy to focus on. Sort of. As much as it’s easy to focus on anything.

He makes up a song about Keith in his head, knowing that if he sang it out loud he’d end up coughing again. He hums the song weakly against Keith’s chest instead, grip loosening on Keith’s neck and body slumping into sleep. In the back of his mind, he’s considering giving in to it.

He’s cold. Colder than he’s ever been, even on ice planets and tundras and in that one blizzard where he and Keith holed up in a cave and told stories and made out until Shiro rescued them. He liked that cave. It was warm, and filled with luminescent creatures. It was romantic, and safe. This is kind of romantic, too, right? His soul-bonded lover cradling him in his arms, heartbeat steady against his cheek as they breathe in tandem. That’s a nice, romantic way to go, right?

“Mm. Keith, can you promise me something?”

“Anything, Lance. You know that.”

“Good. You’re a good guy, y’know that?”

“What’s the promise, Lance? What do you need?”

“Oh, yeah. Right. When the others get here, I want you to tell them I died doing something really badass and important. Like, Zarkon came back to life and we had a showdown and we both shot at the same time and I hit him in his gross, zombie face and saved everyone in the whole universe. Promise you’ll do that?”

“Yeah, no.”

“Hm? Why not? I’d do it for you, y’know…”

“I know. I’m saying you don’t need me to tell them anything but what actually happened. Actually, no, screw that –”

“Keith, there are children…!”

“You don’t need me to tell the team anything, cause once you’re out of the castle cryopods you’ll tell them the whole story yourself. You jumped in front of a weird, alien weapon to protect a bunch of children you insisted we rescue from a galran labor camp. You saved, like, fifty kids from dying in those camps and a handful of them from dying when a maniacal warden threw giant, mechanical, alien ninja stars at them. You were totally badass and important all on your own, okay? You don’t have to kill zombie Zarkon to do something important, alright? You’re amazing, and what you did was the most amazing, selfless thing I’ve ever had the honor to witness. And you can tell everyone I said that when we get back to the castle, I promise.”

There’s a softness in Lance’s thoughts, then; a smile that can’t quite make it to his face. He nuzzles feebly against Keith’s armor, slumping further down into his lover’s lap. He focuses on feelings of gratitude, and overwhelming love, and reminders to keep breathing. This time, Keith can’t feel the words coming back. He’s been able to hear Lance’s thoughts since that galran marriage ceremony the Blade of Marmora insisted on having for them, and both of them have had times when words aren’t the best way to convey what they mean. They’ve even had times when they can’t think of words at all. But this… Keith takes off one of his gloves and runs a hand through Lance’s hair. It’s sticky with cold sweat and drying blood, and Keith can barely handle the sensation of bitter cold that seeps into his fingers when he makes contact with his boyfriend’s skin.

The child beside him shuffles in place, watching the two with an expression Keith can’t actually place. He’s never been good at deciphering expressions to begin with, especially with non-humans, but this particular kid has a poker face that he bets would stump even the greatest diplomats he’s ever known – Princess Allura included.

She nods, walking over and hovering her hand just above Lance’s intact leg. Her ears fold back, eyes searching Keith’s for some kind of agreement, or perhaps just understanding.

He takes in a breath, and watches the way Lance’s hair ruffles when he lets it out.

“You said you’ll die,” he wants to cringe at his own voice, the flatness of it pressing down on his chest. This is someone’s life – a child’s life, and he’s talking about its sacrifice like it’s nothing more than a… a fact in a textbook. He’s thinking about this death the same as he would any death he learned about in his history class back at the Garrison. He wants to go back, say it again, say no this time and mean it.

“I told you already, it’s okay. My papa said that when someone saves you, or someone you care about, you owe them a life debt. And my mama said that Voltron is the most important thing in the whole entire universe, and that if you lost a Paladin of Voltron you’d lose all the millions of people that the Paladin would’ve saved if they hadn’t of been lost,” she speaks with a confidence and acceptance and even grace that Keith can hardly comprehend. She mispronounces a few words, and stumbles over even more, but even her stuttering and floundering comes across like it’s just a planned part of her speech. She smiles, showing off gaps in her teeth, and Keith swears she can’t be more than five or six years old – or at least, whatever the galra equivalent of that would be.

“You’ll die,” he says it as a fact again, but he likes to think there’s a bit more reluctance behind it this time. A bit more sympathy. A bit more god damned humanity, please. “You’ll die, and that’s not fair to you.”

“Is it more fair for him to die? His life is worth more than mine, right?”

“That’s not…” he bites his lip, hand pressing against Lance’s head as if he can stop all this by himself and not have to have this conversation, “That’s not true.” He’s lying. He’s lying, and he knows it. He knows that when choosing between Lance and an innocent kid… he’ll choose Lance. Every time. She’s a child, with her whole damn life ahead of her, and he’s a Paladin of Voltron. He’s supposed to be protecting innocents like her. He’s supposed to be keeping them alive, not… not sacrificing them so he won’t have to live without his lover.

“It is true. Your soul-mate saved me, and my little sister, and all my friends. I owe him my life, like my papa said. That means his life is worth more than mine, cause mine belongs to him, now,” she smiles, hand moving closer to making contact with Lance.

“That… doesn’t even make sense,” Keith struggles to believe himself, though the steady weakening of Lance’s heartbeat makes it difficult to prioritize logic over emotion. He’s always trusted his feelings more than anything, and right now… right now all he can feel is the fear of having Lance slip through his fingers.

“If you talk me out of it, he’ll die,” her expression breaks at last, an angry pout overtaking her fluffy, purple face.

“If I talk you out of it, you’ll live,” he tries to push his words over hers, to convince himself that they can all survive this. He hates his own doubt, and for a moment indulges himself in the mental image of being able to punch his personified doubt in the face. His teeth clench, and he counts out the slowing rhythm of Lance’s pulse. If his heart can stay beating for just a little longer, if Lance can stay breathing for just a little bit longer, they’ll all survive.

“You want him to live, though,” it’s a fact. She says it the same way Keith told her she would die. Lance will live, and the little half-galra girl will die. Keith’s breath stutters, and it’s only in the silence that he realizes Lance’s breathing has stopped again. His breath is gone, and Keith can’t tell whether his heartbeat is just too soft to feel or if it’s absent altogether. For a long moment, the cold that he’s been feeling from Lance becomes his own. His body freezes, and everything – words, sights, sounds, feelings – everything suddenly… falls apart.

He pieces himself back together as quickly as he can manage, looking to the girl as if he’ll somehow find answers in those inscrutable eyes. What can he do? What should he do? Where are the others? Why aren’t they here yet? Are they even coming? Did Blue even reach the castle to deliver their distress signal? Why aren’t the Lions doing anything? Why can’t he do anything? He just wants Lance to live through this. He just wants – he needs Lance to survive this. That’s all he needs. That’s all he asks. Is that more than the universe can handle? After all he’s done for it – after all Lance has done for it – is this too much for the universe to give back in return? Is Lance’s life not worth saving? Is he meant to die here? Is Keith meant to outlive him? He never thought – he never wanted – he thought maybe Lance would go back to Earth and not take Keith with him, but this – is he meant to just sit back against his Lion’s paw and let this happen?

He can’t do that. He can’t accept that. He’s never had someone who loves him and believes in him and is there for him the way Lance is. He’s had his father, and Shiro, and that’s it. He’s never had love like Lance’s. He’s never had someone he’d die for. He’s just getting used to it. He’s just starting to get used to knowing that there’s someone he can actually love and trust on this level. He’s just starting to get used to the feeling of Lance’s arms around him at night, and the sound of Lance’s voice singing songs to him in the morning, and the looks in his eyes that make him feel like there’s nobody in the universe but him and Lance. How can he let that go? How can he let it just… disappear?

He barely registers the whimper that slinks out his throat like a wounded animal fleeing from a fight. He barely feels the added weight in his lap, and the soft, small hands that wipe the wetness from his cheeks.

“Lance…”

“Thanks for finally agreeing to let me do this, Mr. Paladin. He’s gonna live, now. I promise,” the voice pulls him back, pulls his eyes to the sight of a small half-galran girl curled up between him and Lance. She’s pushed the Blue Paladin away from Keith’s chest, and strains her arms to reach around his torso, “My druid mama taught me how to do this, and she said I’m perfect at it. He’s gonna live.”

She closes her eyes, hugging Lance tight, “You saved my sister. Now I get to save you. You’re gonna live.” She squeezes his body, and something happens. Keith isn’t entirely sure what it is. There’s a humming, almost a rumbling, that feels something like the Balmera did back when it spoke to its people during that first mission so long ago. There’s a light, and a heat, and a coldness, and Keith imagines that if he’d ever stepped out of his Lion or the castle during a wormhole jump, it would feel a lot like this. His very bones resonate with the energy that suddenly surrounds him, until the world is blurred at the edges.

The energy ripples, and again Keith gets an image associated with its motion. He imagines it as a child, fidgeting in place as they try to figure out where to go or what to do next. It moves in waves, settling itself, and then draws in past him, past the girl, towards Lance.

The humming stops, the world goes still.

Lance’s eyes snap open, glowing the same violet as the girl’s fur for just an instant. He gasps, lungs finally working on their own. He looks around like he’s just woken up from a nap, groggy and disoriented and half-terrified.

“Lance… oh my god, Lance! Lance, you’re back! You’re here! You’re –” his words fall over themselves, tripping on the tears Keith can’t seem to hold back. Lance isn’t dead. Lance is alive. Lance is here. Lance is with him. Lance is still here.

“Where’d I go?” Lance speaks slowly, voice cracked and weak. It’s gone from light to downright pale, a shimmering afterimage of itself, but it’s still his and it’s still here, and Keith has never heard anything more beautiful, “What happened?”

“I did a good thing,” the girl sighs, like a dog settling in for a nap. Lance startles and looks down at her, somehow curled up in both his lap and Keith’s at the same time. The Paladins watch as she draws herself into the fetal position. She shivers, lets out one more sigh, and stills. As if a light was switched off, she’s suddenly pale and dull and horribly still. She’s gone. Lance is here, and the girl is gone. And Keith told her she could do it. Not with his words, exactly, but… she’s the second person he’s killed today, after the warden.

“Keith,” there’s a panic in Lance’s voice now as his mind begins to wake up, “what does she mean? What happened? Keith, is she…?” he grabs his boyfriend’s wrist, searching for answers in his eyes just as Keith had looked for guidance from the girl just moments before.

“You’re alive, Lance. Focus on that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She… did a good thing. You’re here now, with me. You’re alive.”

“Because of…?”

“Yeah. Because of what she did.”

“Oh.”

There’s nothing else to say. There’s a million other things to say; to ask, to shout, to demand, to plead. Keith hears them all, and responds without words. He imagines them all surviving. Lance, being healed in the cryopod. The girl, being brought to the castle along with her sister and her friends. The kids they rescued, all being taken to a sanctuary the Blade of Marmora had told them about just a few months ago. The kids all either finding their parents (though not many were still alive) or finding good foster families – except for the girl and her sister, whose parents Keith imagined had died trying to save her because why else would she have been in a place like this with a Blade of Marmora member for a father and a druid for a mother? He imagines himself and Lance visiting to check on her, only to see her all alone and bring her back to the castle with them. He imagines teaching her to use the blade, to follow in her father’s footsteps. He imagines Lance teaching her his terrible jokes. He imagines Pidge playing video games with her. He imagines Hunk teaching her to bake. He imagines her hugging Shiro when he’s quiet, like he himself used to do when they were kids. He imagines Coran letting her pretend he’s the Altean equivalent of a horse and she’s a brave knight protecting her kingdom. He imagines Allura showing them a place in the castle where she and her sister can go to be absolutely safe during missions. He imagines both Allura and the mice playing dress up with her to help her find her own style. He imagines a whole life with her – a life where her willingness to save Lance would be rewarded.

He looks down at her again, and brushes a hand across her cheek. Lance lets his forehead fall against Keith’s, the only gesture of comfort he has the energy or dexterity to perform. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to think. He thinks about losing his own siblings, and his heart threatens to stop beating again. He shuts his eyes tight and kisses Keith’s forehead to tell him it’s okay. It’s not okay. There’s a dead girl in their laps, and he’s alive because of it. How could any part of that be okay?

“The part where you’re alive?” Keith isn’t sure if it’s a question or an affirmation, but Lance doesn’t respond either way. He just slides his head down to Keith’s chest and leaves it there. If he cries, Keith doesn’t mention it. He’d join him, in truth, if he had any of his own tears left.

Another hour goes by, children gathering gradually closer to one another for warmth. They give Lance and Keith and the dead girl as wide a berth as they can without straying so far that they start to feel vulnerable again. Lance starts to fall asleep a few times, his blood loss still sufficient that even a druidic cure isn’t enough to keep him alive for long. Keith wakes him each time, and each time he prays to whatever unknown galra god(s) there may be that the girl’s efforts weren’t in vain.

He isn’t sure they’ll make it until he hears static in the helmet by his hip. He fumbles with it, hands slow with disuse, but manages to get it over his head after a few tries. Shiro’s voice. God, he’s been relieved to hear Shiro’s voice before but never like this, “ – there? Keith? Lance? Pidge, are you sure these are the right coordinates?”

“Yes, these are the coordinates Blue gave me! And – wait, look! I see Red! Red’s down there! And so are… a bunch of mini-galras?” Pidge is there, too. Blue must have gone to her because she has the easiest time understanding computers. Good Lion.

“I think those are kids, Pidge. I mean, I’ve never seen a galra kid, but I’m pretty sure none of those are adults. I think,” and Hunk. Blue brought Hunk with them, too.

“Paladins, get in your Lions. Coran and I are going to land the castle as well, but if there are any threats to be dealt with –” Princess Allura. Coran. The castle. Lance could be put in a cryopod. He would live. Not just for a few more hours, but for… well, as long as he would have lived if this whole nightmare of a mission had never happened.

“There aren’t. Any threats, I mean. There’s just me, and Lance, and a bunch of really scared galra hybrids. Their parents are different species, and the galra put them in this labor camp to keep them out of the public eye and make them,” a growl slips into his voice, and Lance does his best to echo it despite the pain in his broken ribs, “‘useful to the empire,’ as the wardens put it. The wardens are… gone. Lance and I took care of them. Now we just need to get the kids to a Marmoran sanctuary, and get Lance into a healing pod… quickly, please.”

The team does move quickly, and before he knows it Keith is sitting alone on the vast concrete work floor. Lance’s been taken to the castle to be healed, the kids have been given temporary rooms in the labyrinthine halls where castle servants used to live in the old days, and the lions have gone to their hangar. All that’s left is Keith, and the girl still curled up in his lap.

“Um… Keith? You guys were here for a couple days before Blue came and got us, so Coran says you should go in a healing pod, too,” Hunk speaks softly, sitting down with his legs crossed and searching Keith’s face for signs of recognition, “I know you didn’t wanna talk about it – or, I assume you didn’t wanna talk about, cause you didn’t say anything when we asked – but, um, you’re gonna have to let go of… of her, sooner or later. We can… uh… give her a funeral? If you want?” He claps a hand on Keith’s shoulder, though even without the telepathic bond he shares with Lance, he can tell the Yellow Paladin is afraid to put any part of himself too close to the dead girl’s body.

Keith nods, scooping the girl into his arms. He never even got to learn her name. Lance gave her a few, while they were living through their imagined life together, but none of them stuck. None of them were hers. Maybe Keith will find her real parents one day, and ask them who she was. He rises to his feet at last, surprised when he stumbles and has to lean on Hunk for support. He’d only been sitting there for the second half of the four hour wait between when Lance got hurt and the team arrived to help them. Were his legs really that weak after just a few hours of sitting? Well… he had been holding Lance in his lap the whole time. And… the girl, too. He walks over to Red, the only Lion who hasn’t yet retreated to the hangar, and lays the girl gently between her paws. He steps back, and Red puts up her particle barrier. She understands. She’ll protect her body, until they can figure out what to do – where to bury her, most likely.

They stand together for a moment, shoulder-to-shoulder, looking up at Red’s face as she determinedly stands guard over the small body.

“Lance is missing an arm and a leg, those kids will barely talk, the wardens are in pieces, and this girl…” Hunk looks at him again, confusion and concern so clear on his face, “what happened to you guys?”

“Lance saved her, so she saved him back. She…” Keith pats Hunk’s shoulder and turns to walk back to the castle, already mapping out the path to the healing pods in his head, “she did a good thing.”

#vld #voltron #writing #prompt response #ask game #klance #klance fic #angst #angst fic #painful fic #ow #my heart #why did I come up with this idea #also it's a garbage draft of 0.8% of the quality I'd normally want it to be #but if you guys like it #I can refine it perhaps #and post a better version on AO3 or something maybe #keraniwolf writes #keraniwolf fanfiction #and I still have more ideas for this plotline too tbh... #example: Lance saying that once Pidge builds him a prosthetic arm and leg he'll change his name to Lance Elric and be the Fullmetal Paladin #example 2: Lance and Keith taking in the sister of the girl who saved Lance so they do still get to raise a half-galra kid #example 3: Keith and Lance helping each other face what happened and heal and move forward with life #example 4: Lance having an arsenal of 'but I'm dying' jokes and amputee jokes that he uses CONSTANTLY #example 5: Lance bonding with Shiro over their prosthetics and eventually bringing him to The Pun Side #and so on and so forth...