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#it's new suffering right when she was just about to be able to learn to live with the old
vodika-vibes · 1 day
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Hi sweetheart; I've been feeling really down and stressed today and I was wondering if I could please have a female reader x Jango Fett scenario where he knows whenever she's stressed and depressed by how much chocolate she has throughout the day I.e. Chocolate Caff, or hot coco and triple choc chip cookies, and several pieces of her favorite chocolate block etc and he tries to ask her about it, but she brushes him off and doesn't want to talk about it, so he just hugs her until she responds and feels better? If you can't make it work with Jango Fett, feel free to go with whichever clone inspires you most for this. Thank you either way. 💖
An Observant Man
Summary: Jango knows his riduur better than anyone, so when she has a bad day, he knows just what to do.
Pairing: Jango Fett x F!Reader
Word Count: 936
Warnings: None
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: I'm sorry you're going through a hard time right now! I hope this helps, at least a little bit. I decided to write it solely from Jango's POV. I hope you feel a little better soon.
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Jango has always been an observant man.
As a bounty hunter, he has to be observant. Able to recognize the ins and outs of every place that he visits, able to determine if something is unusual or not.
It’s a talent that’s kept him alive on more than one occasion.
And it’s one of the more useful skills he’s learned over the years. Though, it’s also one of the skills that he has the hardest time turning off, even when he’s safe in the arms of his riduur.
So, when he comes home after a long hunt that turned even longer, he can’t help but take note of the things that have changed in the home he shares with his beautiful riduur.
He takes note that she rearranged the front hallway and added a bench for him to sit on when he removes his armor. He notes that there’s a new painting on the wall near the front door, likely a gift from their nephew, based on the…unique color choice.
The front hallway smells like a mix of flowers and chemicals, which suggests that she invested in some of the carpet powder to use when he’s away. So long as she doesn’t use it when he’s here, he doesn’t mind. 
He quickly removes his armor and moves through the house, taking in several of the other small changes. Several items have been moved to better locations, some pieces of furniture have new coats of paint, or stain-
There’s a new blanket tossed over the arm of the couch, one made by her own hands, if he had to guess based on the color of the yarn used. Jango releases a fond laugh as he picks up the blanket and trails his fingers over the soft material. 
Maybe he can talk his riduur into letting him bring this back to his ship. 
He just…has to find her first.
Jango folds the blanket and sets it on the couch, before allowing his feet to lead him through the halls until he reaches the kitchen. The kitchen looks the same as ever; the same pale yellow paint, the same kitchen table and chairs, the same scent of cinnamon and apples that always fills the room-
And there, absently stirring a mug, is his riduur. Her hair pulls off her neck with a ribbon, clad in one of his older shirts, her feet bare.
She truly is the most stunning woman in the galaxy.
He leans against the door frame and watches her for a moment, a small smile on his lips. Though, slowly, the smile fades as his gaze slides across the kitchen counter. 
Hot chocolate mix. A handful of chocolate truffles. The block of rich dark chocolate he brought her from Alderaan the last time he had to visit that planet. The box of chocolate brownie mix sitting, forgotten, on the kitchen table.
A bad day then.
Hopefully not longer. The idea of her suffering without him here to support her breaks his heart.
“I’m home, riduur.” He finally says quietly, and he knows that she knows that he’s there, because she doesn’t jump or start. Instead, her hand pauses from where she’s stirring her drink.
Tellingly, she doesn’t turn to look at him for almost half a minute, and when she does, her smile is painfully fake. “Welcome home, Jango.” Her smile might be fake, but the relief in her voice isn’t.
“Have you had a bad day, love?”
“I’m fine.” Her answer is absent, automatic.
“Ah, cyar’ika,” he pushes off the wall and walks over to her, slowly encouraging her to slide into his arms, where she fits against him like two pieces of the same puzzle, “I know that’s not true.” Jango folds his arms tightly around her, “Will you tell me about it?”
“There’s nothing to tell,” She replies as her hands curl into the material of his flight suit, “I’m fine.”
“Hm.” Jango’s arms tighten around her, “I’m not sure if you actually believe that, beautiful, or if you’re just trying to keep me from worrying about you.”
She shrugs and presses her face against his shoulder, “Can’t it be both?”
“I’m sure it can.” Slowly he starts rubbing her back, offering silent comfort and support. “Come on, riduur. Talk to me.”
She sighs softly, “I don’t know, Jango.” She finally says softly, “I’m just…feeling off.”
“That’s okay, everyone has off days.”
“But this has been going on for days now-”
Jango’s heart clenches painfully, “I’m sorry, cyar’ika. I should have been here to support you.”
“S’not your job.”
“It is my job,” Jango corrects, “It became my job the moment you said yes to dinner with me.” He lightly kisses the top of her head, “How about, we go and cuddle on the bed. And tonight I’ll handle everything.”
“That…doesn’t seem fair to you.”
“You’ve been carrying this burden alone for days, cyar’ika. Let me carry it for you for at least one night.”
And she sighs, and pulls back to look up at him, “I love you, you know that.”
Jango smiles softly, “Not half as much as I love you, riduur.”
Finally, a small, but genuine, smile lifts her lips and tension drains from Jango’s shoulders. Quickly, he ducks his head and drops a light kiss on her lips, tasting chocolate as he kisses her, and then he pulls back and lightly urges her towards the bedroom.
It won’t help immediately, it’s going to take time for his perfect riduur to recover, but he’s going to be there every step of the way. After all, that’s his job as riduur.
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shisurus · 2 months
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this panel from the world guide of falin being surrounded by other girls while laios is all alone kills me because. that's it. that's the key difference in their journeys.
as laios states himself, he left the village in order to create a home for him and falin elsewhere. a home that won't collapse due to others' hatred and fears like their old home did, a home where they are loved and accepted unconditionally. but as he soon found out, even before earning money, or having walls surrounding him and a roof above his head- what he so earnestly desired was to meet other people who will accept him for who he is as well. instead, he kept being tormented by those around him, shunned and sneered at. his loneliness quickly became all-consuming until he truly had nothing left except for the monsters in the pages of his book, but even that became a target of mockery and destroyed. that's why ever since the day he left the village, he never felt that he truly made the right choice. so he kept running away: unable to resist and unable to accpet.
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and an ocean away from him there was his sister, who never managed to fully fit in herself. but unlike him, she met a person who became a home to her and learned what a true friendship was for the first time in her life. and laios clearly realizes that too when he finally sees falin and marcille together, he can tell his sister obtained the greatest treasure there is on her own- the exact thing he never managed to find anywhere himself, thus coming back empty-handed to the sister he left the village for.
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but when you read this part of the manga, laios's focus is on falin's loneliness, not his own. he talks about how it hurts thinking about all those moments she had to spend alone because he wasn't there for her, so it almost sounds like he's the one who couldn't bear her suffering and therefore decided to not let her go again. but we do get a glimpse of their first meeting after that almost-decade long separation in the manga, and then we see more of that in the world guide and daydream hour- and it becomes abundantly clear that it was falin who was trying to protect and save him from this pit of loneliness and depression he was in.
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so instead of just doing his best to atone for leaving her behind in the village and making sure she is never lonely again, it might also be that laios was desperately clinging to the one person in the world he felt that accepted and loved him unconditionally. those words he used to describe his motivation to stay by falin's side are the exact words she would've used as well; she couldn't bear leaving him behind in this state. in a sense, they were each other's shackles.
but then she did. she died for him and their friends, and ironically enough, it was by leaving him alone like this that he was finally able to stand on his own and put his full trust in others. to have the courage to reveal who he is and give others the opportunity to accept him after such a long time of hiding. it was a long journey, but his hiding finally came to an end when he faced the others after shedding his monster form. and i love that the person who was falin's "home" all those years away from laios, marcille, became just as meaningful to him during their time separated from falin- the first one to find him and show him that he isn't alone anymore. just as he did for her.
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so at the end of the story when falin talks about all the places she would like to go, it's not just that she wants to pursue her own dreams- but that she actually feels free to do so and go anywhere she desires. and one of the main reasons for that is that her brother finally found new people he wants to be with; his own home.
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fellthemarvelous · 2 months
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Do you ever really think about what happened in The Resurrectionists?
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Aziraphale spent that entire time trying to save Elspeth's soul from being damned to Hell.
Every questionable choice he made was done so because he was trying to help Elspeth and also trying to find new ways to decrease human suffering.
He was working really fucking hard to do his job, but he made mistakes along the way because he is constantly struggling with the knowledge that the rules become a lot more convoluted as life becomes more complicated.
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Digging up bodies is wrong, but Elspeth was poor and acting in desperation to take care of herself and Wee Morag so they wouldn't have to continue living on the streets.
He is the one who encouraged her to dig up another body because he realized that Mister Dalrymple was trying to help teach those learning to become doctors so they could do better to decrease human suffering when it was their turn to help others.
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He wasn't able to save Wee Morag after she was shot by a grave gun, and watched in dismay as Elspeth sold her body to Mister Dalrymple so she could get off the streets.
And when that didn't work the way she'd hoped, she decided that her life meant nothing anymore and decided she was better off dead.
Aziraphale had been spending that entire minisode trying to save Elspeth's soul from Hell, but he ultimately realizes that he made things worse even though he was trying so hard to do the right thing.
Heaven didn't care that he failed. Heaven has already said "we're the good guys, we're just not doing anything to stop the bad guys". Aziraphale was doing the job given to him by God. He made a mistake, but he thought he was doing the right thing because he cares about human souls. He still wants to protect humanity from Hell. That's literally his job.
Crowley saw someone digging up a body in the graveyard and immediately realized he didn't need to do anything.
Instead he watches.
He listens to Elspeth and finds it easier to sympathize with her plight because he's in the same boat in many ways. It doesn't matter what he does because he won't be able to climb his way out of Hell.
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He listens to Aziraphale and he challenges the angel when he disagrees with some of the things he's saying.
He doesn't interfere with Elspeth or Aziraphale though.
The discussion that he and Aziraphale have with Mister Dalrymple teaches Crowley something just as much as it teaches Aziraphale.
Before he learns the reason that Mister Dalrymple cuts open dead bodies in the first place, he's cheering to the idea of more murder.
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That tumor that Aziraphale hugs to his chest is just as much of a learning moment for Crowley. He hadn't considered why someone might have a good reason to cut up dead bodies, but Crowley and Aziraphale both love children and they both just learned that a child died with a tumor inside of him.
Crowley didn't realize anymore than Aziraphale did just how much danger Wee Morag and Elspeth were in from digging up bodies of rich people.
It was when Crowley saw that Elspeth was about to kill herself that he realized he could no longer sit back and do nothing.
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As a demon, it should have been easier for Crowley to accept that Hell was winning another soul, but the truth is that the entire time Aziraphale was working so hard to save Elspeth's soul, Crowley was able to act as a spectator because she was already headed down the path towards Hell.
Crowley had just watched Aziraphale work so hard to save this human soul, this soul who had just lost the woman she loved who was wanting to end her own life so she could see Wee Morag again, and he realized he couldn't sit back and watch anymore. He knew Elspeth wouldn't see Wee Morag again if she killed herself because Hell cares just as little about how complicated human life is as Heaven does.
He used Aziraphale's money to bribe Elspeth into being properly good so she could go to Heaven. He saved her knowing that he was offering the win to Heaven just so she could see Wee Morag again.
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It's important to remember that neither Heaven nor Hell give a single solitary fuck about humanity or the complications that arise as life becomes more problematic. Humanity exists within all shades of grey.
Heaven does nothing to stop Hell. Hell spends eternity torturing humans and other demons. Neither side is good. Neither side is ideal.
And in the end, Crowley did what he did because Aziraphale was doing the right thing by trying to save Elspeth's soul from eternal torment, something she doesn't deserve because she was simply trying to survive in a system that has always put poor people at a disadvantage. Aziraphale learned this too. He learned that there is no inherent virtue behind poverty.
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To shades of grey.
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Tattooed heart
Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader
Summary: You have tattoos everywhere and your girlfriend suffers from severe anxiety. You learned to walk around with Sharpies to help her out.
Disclaimer: English is not my first language. TW for anxiety attacks.
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MASTERLIST
The room was crowded to the point where you couldn’t even see the exit doors in the back.
That always made you a bit nervous, of course, but mostly because it usually meant your interview would go on forever until people were satisfied by it. Those types of venues were always endless, but it was even worse when there were so many people attending the panels. Don’t get it wrong, you love attending the coms and meeting the fans to debate the characters and movies, and just the entire MCU universe as a whole, but you were only human and, after spending so long being a part of this, you got a bit tired.
Although the interview was going on forever, you weren’t surprised by the amount of people reunited to see you guys talking. It was hard to have most of the Marvel actors in one single interview, after all, so you were already expecting people to crowd the room and want to ask everyone a million questions. The new Avengers movie was coming up, the trailer had dropped just the day prior, and people were excited to know more. You couldn’t blame them.
You had been listening to Evans give out an overly complex reply to a question someone made him for a while now when you noticed Elizabeth squirming in her chair beside you. She was sitting to your right at the large table where you all were and she had answered a few questions as well, although that was the first time you noticed that she wasn’t moving out of boredom or to adjust in her chair again. She was restless, you noticed by the way she looked down at her legs and by the way her fingers pulled at her dress as if she was trying to get rid of a crinkle that didn’t exist.
Over the years, you learned to read her.
When you first met, three years ago, you were immediately drawn to Elizabeth. At the time, she had red hair thanks to her Marvel character, she was wearing black clothes and she had a fake scar above her eyebrow since you met between takes of the new movie you were both going to be a part of. That wasn’t your first Marvel movie, neither was hers, but that was the first time you were going to share the screen. You had heard about her before, obviously, but nothing had prepared you for how it would feel to meet Elizabeth Olsen in person.
You felt attracted to her since the first day, but you weren’t brave enough to make a move, so you spent the next two months of shooting crushing on her in silence - at least to her because you sang like a canary to all of your castmates to the point where they had to make an intervention because no one could take more of your daydreaming about Elizabeth without doing anything about it. That worked, though, and you found yourself sweating like crazy just a week before the movie wrapped while you waited for Elizabeth to finish her scenes for the day.
You had been nervous for no reason, as your castmates predicted, because Elizabeth said ‘yes’ after you managed to spit out your question and you both went for your first date two days later. That night, Elizabeth admitted she wanted to ask you out since the first day too, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“I’m glad you’re more brave than I am,” she whispered shyly when you were holding hands on top of the table. “I’m too anxious to have managed to actually ask you out.”
But that had been it.
You have been inseparable ever since.
Well, besides when you were both working, of course. You hadn’t made any more movies together since your characters took different turns, but you and Elizabeth were able to move heaven and Earth to make your relationship work no matter what.
As the years went by, you learned to read Elizabeth as easily as an open book. You knew when she was stressed and needed to spend some time in her garden to relax. You knew when Elizabeth was cooking because she wanted to, when she was doing it because she had to eat and when she was stress-cooking. You knew when she liked the movie you were watching by the way she bit her lip and when she couldn’t care less about what was on the TV by the way she kept sighing. There were many little things about Elizabeth that you took notice of over the years, things that you carefully stocked in your memories because they were all details that made you love her more and more every day.
However, there was one thing you made a bigger effort to keep track of.
Her anxiety.
Elizabeth has been suffering from severe anxiety for many years now. She had talked about it in interviews and other things, but no one could understand the magnitude of her anxiety attacks unless they experienced it in person. You had been there to a fair share of them since you met, from the smaller ones where she would complain about feeling like a small weight in her chest to the bigger ones where you had to rush her to the hospital because you honestly thought she was about to have a heart attack. Since that day, you had vowed to always be attuned to the signals of her crisis so you could help Elizabeth get out of them before things got too hard for her to handle.
Elizabeth used to apologize every single time about it, about how she sometimes wouldn’t want to leave the house, how sometimes she would ask you to leave the restaurant that took you both so long to get a table at, how sometimes she needed to sit in complete silence to get herself together, but you always made sure to tell her it wasn’t her fault. Elizabeth had struggled with anxiety, panic attacks and social anxiety for many years now not because she wanted to, but because the media had chased her since she was young and she had grown in fear. That was something she struggled with and something you could help her with.
Or try your best, at the very least.
Since you knew about all of this, you easily realized Elizabeth’s anxiety was making an appearance, slipping through her very strong grip. You could see by the way her green eyes started moving around without focusing on anything, how her jaw clenched, how her breath became heavier and how her fingers kept picking at her dress. Evans was still talking and there was a microphone in front of you, not to mention how there were literally hundreds of eyes and cameras staring at you at that moment, so you couldn’t take her hands and ask her to breathe with you like you usually did.
You had to think fast, however, because Elizabeth’s anxiety escalates quickly and you wouldn’t want that to happen in a room filled with strangers since that was probably the reason why it was happening anyway. Elizabeth had gotten better at dealing with attending those events, giving interviews and talking with fans, but that didn’t mean she didn’t struggle every once in a while. It was still something that wasn’t easy for her, something that made her natural instincts ask her to run away as fast as she could.
Those long interviews made you tired, but they absolutely terrified Elizabeth. She hated the crowded room because she couldn’t spot the exit and her brain would play little tricks at her saying that, if something bad happened, there weren’t enough emergency doors to take everyone out safely. The cameras pointed at her made her overly conscious of every move she made, afraid of what people might capture to spread around. The screams and yells that the fans let go every once in a while made her ears hurt and her insides churn. It was awful.
Averting your eyes so people wouldn’t notice you had been watching her, you placed a gentle hand on her thigh under the table to offer her some comfort. That made Elizabeth jump in surprise, though, since she hadn’t been expecting it, so you quickly removed your hand and offered her a small smile in apology when she glanced at you. You felt bad about it, especially when you noticed the fear in her eyes, but you still tried to calm her down by offering her a smile.
Some of her tension washed away and her shoulders relaxed enough for you to feel safe to touch her again. When your hand touched her thigh this time around, Elizabeth was expecting it and she allowed the touch with a sigh. She threw you a thankful look before turning her head to the side to pay attention to what was being said in case anyone decided to pull her into the conversation, something you also tried to do.
Luckily - so damn luck, indeed - the interview ended just a few minutes after that. You played your part waving at the fans and offering them smiles, but you still held Elizabeth’s hand to pull her away from there as fast as you could without actually running. You were both sitting in the middle of the large table so it wasn’t an easy task. However, your eyes met Zendaya’s eyes for a moment and the girl wasted no time trying to discreetly move everyone out of the way so you could walk past with Elizabeth.
You took your girlfriend backstage and avoided everyone who tried to talk with you on the way until you found a quiet corner to sit down with her. You sat her down on top of a large technical equipment box and you jumped up to sit beside her, already shoving your hand inside your pocket to remove the three Sharpies you had taken with you that day. Green, blue and lilac were the colors you took from the case before leaving the hotel room that afternoon, and you didn’t think twice before handing them to her.
“Come on, I’m your canvas,” you told her lightly while reaching out your arm to her.
Your right arm was filled with tattoos from your shoulders to your wrist. That was something that made many casting directors frown to, but you loved it. That’s the way you find to express yourself and something you cherish. The tattoos were all blackwork, which means they didn’t have any colors added to them, and they were all different drawings that entwined between them thanks to the amazing work of your tattoo artist.
The first time Elizabeth ever drew on your skin was when you took her to the hospital that fateful day. You had seen your girlfriend looking so sad and scared lying down in a hospital bed after the doctor left saying it had been an anxiety attack that you just had to do something. You knew Elizabeth liked to use her hands to help herself calm down because she would run to her garden and spend hours there tending to the plants, putting her hands in the dirt and delicately touching every leaf. That’s why you took the pen that the doctor left behind without noticing and started to look for something she could write on, but there was nothing.
So, you just handed her the pen and told her to write something on your arm.
Elizabeth had looked at you like you were insane for even suggesting it and it took you a while to convince her to give it a try, however, it played out perfectly in the end. Elizabeth spent hours using the blue pen to color your tattoos and it did wonderful things to her anxiety. When the doctor returned, he was happy to say she was good to go and you were just glad that Elizabeth was back to her usual self asking you if you could stop somewhere to eat.
It wasn’t a perfect solution. It was temporary since it usually just calmed her down enough to keep going for a few more hours, but Elizabeth still needed to fully relax in silence, go to her garden or take a warm bath to avoid any real crisis. But that didn’t stop you from buying several Sharpies from different colors to have them around anytime she might need them. You made a habit out of walking around with them inside your pockets and Elizabeth stopped resisting using them to draw on you.
Sure, Elizabeth suggested she buy a notepad to carry with her, but you told her you didn’t mind being her personal canvas. You liked how she touched your skin gently with one hand while she used the other one to color your tattoos. You found it mesmerizing how she managed to make different details every time she drew on you. And you were just glad to be able to help her. Of course, you told Elizabeth it was okay if she preferred to have some paper to draw on, but luckily she didn’t argue against painting your arm instead.
It worked.
And that would have to do because you couldn’t take her to the hotel room you were sharing yet and it was clear that Elizabeth wasn’t feeling great.
“No,” your girlfriend said without taking the Sharpies from you. “We still have more interviews today.”
“Exactly,” you argued. “That’s fine. You know I don’t mind it.”
“People will make questions,” Elizabeth insisted, but it held no real resistance behind her words anymore. She was already taking the pens from you and you smiled happily at that.
“Let them,” was your reply.
A second later, Elizabeth took the green Sharpie to start painting one of the tattoos on the back of your arm.
When your castmates found you both, your skin was a mix of green, blue and lilac already, and Elizabeth's full attention was on the task in her hands. She didn’t look about to lose her mind anymore, her breathing was normal again, her hands weren’t shaking and her frown was purely because she was trying to keep the colors inside the line and not because she was in panic. Your friends gave you space because they didn’t want her to feel crowded again, but Holland lent you his jacket while you were all walking to the next interview to avoid questions and Elizabeth kissed your lips just before going on stage.
“You’re the best girlfriend in the world,” Elizabeth whispered against your skin.
You shrugged it off and leaned to kiss her forehead. “I love you,” you reminded her gently aware that you would climb every mountain and swim every ocean to make her happy.
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heartfullofleeches · 8 months
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Oblivious healer entity reader that finds joy and endless happiness every day living in a town that's basically hell on earth for its human residents
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To live in this place is to know true suffering. Life is meaningless, flesh is expendable. Few bother to make friends with their neighbors or check in relatives as tomorrow is never a guarantee. Creatures from the unknown, unexplainable disappearances, those who lost themselves and craved the same violence thrust unto them, false prophets. Those who attempted to flee often faced the worse kinds of punishment. There was truly no end to their torment.
Dazed and on the verge of collapsing, a new arrival in town found itself roaming the near empty shelves of a convenience store in ruin. Glass stabbed at its outer layer flesh, reflecting the strange clawing sensation in the lower regions of its stomach. It would later learn these feelings to be the pains of hunger, one it was not as fond of as others. The newcomer had learned so much in such a short time residing in this new town and body. It wanted to learn more - like what would happen if it stuffed those odd, brightly colored shapes into the singular hole it called a mouth. They were sweet, they were sour, they were savory- flavors and descriptions foreign til taught by those who cared for it later on.
The newcomer comes across the owner of the store laying motionless behind the counter. The syrup surrounding them is not as sweet as what it sampled from bottles in the cold storage spaces. Poking at the owner garners no response. It's then that the newcomer realizes their faults. It hadn't offered currency before eating like it'd seen others do. It didn't have those papers or coins or even those rectangular bits of plastic. It deciding the next best thing to give as payment was to fix that large hole in their face. None of the humans it came across before had one of those, so it must need fixing.
The store owner finally responded to its questions once it had repaired the hole. If the newcomer had anyway to describe the process it was like playing with clay. The store owner only answered in screams of terror until the newcomer was able to calm them enough to tell them how they had fixed them - and eaten the rest of their stock. They weren't upset by that second thought as the newcomer had thought, and even gave them a supply of their favorite treat before calling the police.
The newcomer wondered if it helped more people it would get more treats or be invited to come back anytime as the store owner had generously offered. It was having so much fun in this new form. Its powered had been limited, but the feel of warm sunlight on their skin was worth the loss. It couldn't understand why everyone around it was so unhappy when they get to wake up everyday and welcome the morning sun. It wants to fix people, it wants them to be happy. Many reject them for fear of the unknown, but those who accept cling onto them like a lifeline. Without the newcomer around they are plunged in darkness as it has become the source of light for them it speaks so highly of. The newcomer is oblivious to their devotion as it reads books about the new world and takes light of its tragedies as it takes glee I'm all its pleasures.
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Yan: Let me get this straight - you just repaired my kidneys and all you want is a hamburger?
Entity Reader: .... Two?
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Yan: There is no point in waking anymore. When I'm asleep i hear the crying of my dead mother. When I'm waking she's standing over my bed. I can't think, I can't breathe. Make it stop, make it stop- There is no reason to keep existing- I should just let my cannibal neighbor eat me
Entity Reader: ...They gave me eleven nuggets instead of ten. I am very happy right now. Want the extra? :D
Yan: ..I have never been more mentally stable than I am in this current moment, if you leave me I will die.
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[Entity Reader walks in on a friend about to be sawed in half by a masked maniac. The two share a glance before Reader throws their arms up]
Entity Reader: Frankie!! :D
[The machine rips the saw out of their victim's abdomen and rushes reader - hugging them and spinning them around as the victim fights to keep their intensities in their body]
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isa-belle1367 · 2 months
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Desmond head canons (with a few non desmond head canons thrown in) (I love desmond and all non-desmonds equally I swear)
Desmond once came out of the animus and tried to greet the others, but he couldn't figure out which language to use, so for about 5 minutes, he cycled through different languages trying to find the right one before just giving up.
Ezio has chronic pain from climbing buildings because he never learned the correct way to climb them, nor the correct stretches to stop the pain
Haytham once convinced Connor to come with him to a tavern, Connor ended up getting drunk and zoning out for 30 minutes before putting his head down and silently crying in the corner
Connor never processed his mom's death because after she died, he had to rebuild the village, then he had to learn to fight, then he had to worry about his villages safety, etc. So he never processed it
Altair and desmond suffer from migraines and not the "my head hurts" migrans I'm talking the ones that cause you to black out for a minute and get sick
Altair once was learning to do a leap of faith, but while it was being explained, he accidently turned on his eagle vision and nearly freaked out (his dad had to take him home right after and explain what Altair was seeing)
After a few days of reliving ezios' memories, desmond started to gravitate towards Shaun because (just like Leo) Shaun smells like books
Altair has the stupidest sense of humor
Ezio collected cats, Altair collected birds, connor collected dogs/ wild animals, and now all animals are just drawn to desmond
Desmond once fist fought a gang leader *and won.* He also got the leaders' respect. (Being a bartender in Manhattan does things to you)
Desmond with adhd
Connor doesn't like walking into new places without being able to scope out the area first
DESMOND WITH ADHD
Altair has severe attachment issues, so bc of this, he distances himself as much as possible, so he doesn't get attached
Desmond got into an argument with Bill and got so frustrated that he started talking in native American without realizing Bill then said something snarky and desmond snapped in a perfect native America accent. "Haytham, you are unbelievable"
Desmond can control his ancestors' ratatouille style
When there is a time jump in the animus (for example, the time jumps in the training montage in monteriggioni), it's super disorienting for desmond bc he gets the memories of his ancestor but if he focuses on them he can't remember them
Desmond once cried for an hour in his room bc he couldn't remember Rebecca's name when he came out of the animus
Desmond nearly attacked Bill on multiple occasions because his bleeds made him appear to be a Templar (Bill is no longer allowed near desmond as he is getting out of the animus)
While they were in the temple, a bear wandered in, and everyone freaked out, but desmond just helped the bear find its way back to his mom (they now get random prey left outside of the temple)
One time, desmond tried to reach for a throwing knife before realizing he dosent have throwing knives, and he nearly died, lol
Desmond called Rebecca Claudia once, and she never forgot it
I have so many more, but I don't feel like typing them out rn
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marvelstars · 2 months
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Anakin and Slavers
"His undoing is that he loveth too much"
George Lucas
One thing that I always liked about George´s work in relation to Anakin and slavery is how out of the left field he and Dave Filoni wrote Anakin´s relationship to the people who owned or saw him as a property at one point or another and yet it makes total sense for his character.
For example kid Anakin has no doubt that Slavery is horrible and at 9 he is actually working towards developing technology to help free his Mom, friends and himself from it. He hates with capital H the fact those people have control over the life and death of other people but at the same time he has great compassion and kindness which his mother helped nurture. This along with the fact that Watto was the only adult male figure who was around during his early chilldhood, this complicated his feelings towards slavers in a very tragic way.
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Anakin feared Watto´s violence and didn´t for a moment doubt he would have been willing to sell off his mother or him if the customer got to a big enough price but at the same time he listens to his advice when he travels to the dune sea to do his work with the jawas and his pov is almost as important as his Mom´s, in the novelization of TPM Anakin remembers not to talk to strangers or to get close to Tuskens Raiders camps thanks to Watto´s advice.
So in Anakin´s mind, Watto is someone he fears but also someone he takes advice from, respects to a point, sometimes gets sassy to and actually listens to almost as a father figure BUT at the same time he has no doubt he would activate the killing chip if he tried to escape.
Pain/abuse/fear mixed with care/advice(sounds familiar?) Anakin knows slavery is awful but he can´t help but see Watto as a person because of who Anakin is, Annie is a kind and understanding person and to point may justify Watto as a "Man of bussines" and "Not as bad a other masters" "It could be worse" but he definitely doesn´t trust him in the same way he does his mother, she is blood, she is family. He and Mom are a team.They shared their secrets.
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The first time Anakin saw Watto again after being freed, he was a Jedi with training, almost a knight and the first thing he does to the guy who beat him and his Mom some years ago is to ask him if he can help with the ship parts Watto is working on because he noticed Watto is struggling and his bussines is falling down compared to how it was when Anakin was a kid. When Watto noticed who Anakin was he didn´t reject him and accepted his congratulations but keep himself appart, hoping to learn about his mother whereabouts.
When Watto told Anakin he sold Shmi, Anakin doesn´t have a reaction, he takes Watto´s justification of "I am sorry Ani but bussines are bussines and anyway the person who bought her freed her and married her" Anakin doubts it´s as good a picture as Watto is talking about but he takes his justification and leaves.
When he meets Owen, Beru and Cliegg he sees they are indeed nice people and the reason for his mothers suffering is something completely different that they were not able to stop so he doesn´t blame them for her fate. When Anakin lost his mother it was only natural for him to seek a family, someone he could share how he really felt and his secrets, he could not be part of the Lars family but Padme was willing to love him so she became his new confirmed family, right along with Obi-Wan and Ahsoka but while he had to show himself different to them, he didn´t had to do that with Padme, just like he did with his mother.
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In the clone wars Anakin shows again this complex view of slavers with Queen Miraj Scintel, the cartoon goes out of it´s way to show she looked at him as pretty property and he didn´t let her forget that and actually it was strongly suggested he may have been raped by her at some point to keep safe Obi-Wan, Rex, Ahsoka as well as the people they wanted to save while he got enough soldiers to stage their rescue. Anakin had a plan the whole time just as he did as a kid so he keep his cool even when he saw another slave choose suicide over keep being under the control of Scintel. Yet in the end when the Queen was killed by Count Dooku Anakin felt sorry for her, he could not help it.
So this mix of rejection/anger/hate/disgust towards slavers mixed with pity/understanding which is something that was part of what made Anakin a good person gets used agaisn´t him in his relationship with Palpatine.
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He first shows himself as the father figure Anakin thought he could find in Qui-Gon before he died a better father figure than Watto had been, a father figure that didn´t reject this title like ObiWan did, Palpatine did this to get his trust as a young child and later young adult and then he showed himself as the real sith master he actually was, Palpatine knew that Anakin wasn´t a stranger to be treated as property by people who showed themselves as good advicers or somehow not as bad as others despite their actions. So Anakin´s initial compassion, kindness and understanding for people that abused him is played agaisn´t him to make him fall to the darkside and chain himself again to another worse master who didn´t just seek to use his skills and body but who wanted his soul as well.
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And the same reasons why Anakin justified Watto at first when he was a young kid also applied to Palpatine, he may be a sith but he ran the Republic better than those corrupt politicians, he isn´t a perfect Emperor but in Padme´s absence he is better than the alternatives. He isn´t as bad as a master and anyway I deserve this because I fell to the darkside and nobody can come back from that, if he abuses me I got this coming because I choose this and he still teaches me the ways of the force, he rescued me from Mustafar when Obi-Wan left me to die and he didn´t have to, he is all I have left.
So once Anakin´s voice died down Vader was left with many reasons to say to Palpatine "What´s your bidding my master?" because in his mind master isn´t a word that contradicts father and Palpatine became his father in all but name, this makes George´s words about Anakin fatal flaw being the fact he loved too much make complete sense and it´s a tragedy.
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tanniefm · 1 year
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christmas & chill | jjk (m)
sequel to all to you
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summary - it’s the most happiest time of the year with your needy boy.
pairing - jungkook x reader (f)
genre - established relationship, pwp, fluff
word count - 3.7k
song inspo - the entirety of ariana grande’s ep christmas & chill ofc!
warnings - reader and koo are hopelessly in love sigh, lots of cum, unprotected sex (pls don’t be dumb like them i beg), koo kinda switches lowkey sorry, overstimulation, hint of dacryphilia, koo’s a lil crybaby, extremely needy koo, praise, riding, backshots yayyyy, oral (f receiving), squirting, cum eating, pet names (ur his angel <3), reader is chubby coded (is that a thing? i’m making it a thing), reader suffers from FPS (fat pussy syndrome) whilst jungkook suffers from FDBS (fat dick and balls syndrome) 😞
a/n - a lil gift from me to u ♡ thank u all for all the love. i wanted to post something for christmas as a 2 year anniversary to my first ever fic i posted on here. hope u enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. see u next year!!
♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪°•°∞°•°♪♪°•°∞°•°♪°•
The semester is over, finals are a thing of the past, and your lovely new boyfriend is coming over in 15 minutes. Merry fucking Christmas to you! 
Due to finals being obnoxiously cutthroat this year, you’ve barely been able to spend any time with Jungkook. He offered to help you study multiple times, but you felt it would be more responsible to study on your own without any…distractions. You learned from last time that studying with him ends with materials being forgotten and clothes being strewn about. So for two weeks, you put a sex ban on the both of you so that way when you were able to reconnect, it’d be 10x better. Jungkook reluctantly agreed but had a huge pout on his face that you oh so lovingly kissed away. Ever since you two made it official, it’s like all you ever think about is being grossly lovey-dovey with him. In your defense, he makes it a little hard not to. He’s the sweetest boy in the world, of course you wanna shower him with kisses and endless praise and let him pump as much cum into you as his heart desires! The look on his face does you in every single time, just thinking about it is making you squeeze your plush thighs together. 
You shake your head to re-focus on the task of getting ready. Your roommate has the same plans as you do with her own significant other so she notified you she’d be gone for the weekend with a sly smile. Fortunately for her, this means she won’t have to hear the headboard banging rhythmically into the wall at 3 am anymore - well, at least for the weekend. You’ve decided to pamper yourself a little before he arrives. Showered, shaved, moisturized, spritz some sweet-smelling perfume, and even put on a little bit of makeup just to make yourself feel extra cute. You put on some fuzzy pink shorts that make your legs and ass look good, and a tank top with Hello Kitty positioned right in the middle of your boobs. You look and feel so fucking good right now. ‘Jungkook’s gonna bust in his pants again,’ you sigh blissfully to yourself. However, tonight you want him to fill you up completely. It’s what you deserve after such a stressful month of non-stop studying and crying over due dates. You give yourself a little smile in the mirror before you walk to the living room to turn on the tv for background noise. Watching movies is the last thing on your mind at the moment.
Your head springs up when you hear melodic taps on the door. Anytime Jungkook knocks, it has to be to the tune of whatever song he was listening to earlier, it’s a habit you’ve always found to be endearing. You skip to the door happily, excited to see your favorite boy.
“Hey angel, I got us- mph,” you interrupt his sentence with a deep kiss. Fuck, you missed him so much. Although you’d never admit it to his face, as he tends to get a bit cocky (which never lasts once you’re on top of him), this sex ban has been torture for you. You made the foolish decision of adding that neither of you was allowed to touch yourselves while you cracked down on studying. So to say you were pent-up was a gross understatement. You parted from him for air and saw how dazed he looked. Pink cheeks and shaky breaths. Just like always.
You smirk and look down at the bags he has in his hands. “You got food? Aww, you’re too sweet, come in! It’s freezing,” you say innocently. You grab the bags of takeout from him and usher him inside. He’d like to blame his rosy face on the cold wind, but you and him both know you just caught him off guard. And turned him on a little. These past couple of weeks have been what Jungkook would imagine hell is like. And then to add the extra challenge of not masturbating? November is over! What happened to Destroy Dick December?? Nevertheless, he’s ecstatic to see you again. He has so much to give you. He knows you can take it, he just wonders if he can. Other than his incessant horniness though, he’s just as excited to curl up with you under your warm weighted sheets and hold and kiss and love you endlessly. He walks inside to see you’ve transformed the living room into a cozy holiday getaway. Fairy lights decorated the tables and doorway, soft music flowed throughout the room, chilled wine set out on the table, and you, looking as gorgeous as ever. God, he’s so in love with you. He wants every holiday season to be spent with you by his side. He plops himself down on the couch and stares at your pretty figure retreating to the kitchen to collect plates and utensils. He notices that you’re wearing the short fuzzy shorts that he likes. The ones where he can clearly see the soft thighs he always imagines rutting himself between. Maybe if he’s good tonight you’ll let him. His dick slowly hardens at the prospect. 
You come back with eating materials in hand and sit next to him closely on the couch. “What��s all this for?” he asks distractedly. He notices you’ve also put on the perfume he can’t get enough of. It’s subtle enough to not mess with his sensitive nose but sweet enough to keep him wanting more. He wants all of you. Right now. “I thought I’d make the atmosphere nice and warm for us since it’s been so long since we’ve had a chance to be alone together,” you say smiling brightly. You dig into your food ignoring your very erect boyfriend. “You aren’t hungry baby?” you ask with a slight pout. He shakes his head slowly and scans your body up and down, seeing that you’ve foregone a bra. Your nipples poke through the little tank top you’ve thrown on and he desperately wants to lean down and put them in his mouth.
You snicker at how obvious he’s being. You knew he’d get like this as soon as he saw you. You’re surprised he didn’t crumble and fall to his knees the moment you kissed him. There had been many nights throughout these past few weeks where he’d text you alluding to wanting to see you, touch you, taste you, anything. All of which you would shut down and sternly tell him to not touch himself. “The only one that’s making you cum this month is me, do you understand?” you had firmly told him one night. He whimpered and whinily agreed. He’s such a good boy, your good boy.
Now with you right in front of him, looking the way that you do, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. You laugh and swallow the last bite of your food and turn to him. “Ok ok, I get it,” you say as you lean in to kiss him. He immediately wants to deepen it but you push him back before he has the chance. “Don’t you want to make a little toast first?” you don’t think he could get any poutier. “If I drink this wine can we have sex after?” you giddily nod and pour your glasses. “To us,” you clink your glasses together and watch as he hastily downs his whole cup. This is definitely gonna be a long night.
Without even considering letting you finish, he dives in for another long kiss. You smile into it and place your glass on the table to focus your full attention on him. Tongues dancing for dominance that he beautifully succumbs to. You climb on top of him slowly and straddle his firm thighs. You’ll never get over how such a strong man will willingly submit to your every whim. He’s so perfect. 
He runs his hands up and down your sides and feels how soft you are. He knows you’ve been insecure about your body in the past, but he’s always loved it. Even before you agreed to be his girlfriend, he’d savor any ounce of physical contact with you if it meant he got to feel your tiny squishy self against his lean muscular form. Your thighs squeeze around his hips and you push your heat against his straining bulge. He moans wantonly. This is what he’s been craving. Your warmth on top of him. The only thing that could make this better is you letting him inside of you to feel it completely. He bucks his hips into yours to hint at what he wants. But you know, you’ve known since before he walked into your place. If he had things his way, he would’ve picked you up and taken you on the front door. But he enjoys the teasing and the waiting. He enjoys the thrill of not knowing what’ll happen next. He enjoys anything you’ll allow him. 
Your kisses descend upon his jaw and neck as his cold hands fiddle with the hem of your tank top. He gives you a pleading look, silently asking if he can take it off, which causes you to nod as an affirmative. He quickly takes it off and leans back to do the same to his own shirt. Seeing his bare chest will forever be a treat for you. You're sure he could say the same if his ogling of your boobs is anything to go by. “You’re so pretty,” he sighs. His pupils dilate as he softly squeezes them in his hands. “Wanna suck on them,” he mumbles. You giggle and tell him to go ahead which he does swiftly. There’s something lethargic about watching him suck and play with your nipples. Even when not in a sexual context, he likes to have you in his mouth absentmindedly. You’re starting to think it’s become a comfort thing for him. He looks so at peace. His cold fingers contrast his warm tongue and it only adds to your pleasure. You rock against him harder which causes him to part from your nipples to whine. 
“Please- please can I be inside of you? I need it, I’m so full angel please,” he rushes out. “You wanna fill me up baby?” you respond gently, cupping his face with your hands. His doe eyes framed by your fresh set of acrylics is such a pretty sight to see. He nods and whispers another please. He looks so good when he begs. You wish you could take a mental screenshot of this moment.
You get up to discard your shorts and lacy pink panties while he impatiently just tugs his pants and boxers down to his knees. You’ve decided he’s had enough teasing for the night and quickly guide his throbbing length inside your embarrassingly wet pussy. He lets out a sob as you bottom out on him completely. You give yourself a brief second to adjust and let him recuperate from everything that happened in the last 60 seconds or so. You give him a small peck and ask if he’s ready, to which he replies with a soft yes and squeezes your hips for emphasis. With that, you slowly lift your hips and plop back down with a quickness. He’s so fucking big; not only is he long, but he’s slightly thick too. He’s always leaving your poor pussy sore but he fills you so fucking well you can’t find it in you to care. You set a fast pace as you’re overcome with your own need to feel good. You can’t wait for him to cum inside you. The moment you told him you were on birth control and that you were ok with him finishing inside he almost lost his mind. You’ve come accustomed and even excited to feel his love filling you in the most physical way. 
His hands grip your hips firmly as he throws his head back and takes the pleasure he’s receiving. You’re squeezing around him tightly and bouncing up and down on him so swiftly, he feels like he’s basking in the glows of heaven. “Ahh ____ you’re gonna milk it out of me fuck,” he moans loudly. His voice tends to heighten in pitch whenever he’s close and his eyes start to water as if he’s on the verge of bursting into tears. This however, only encourages you to get him there quickly. You wanna see tears streak down his face as he releases two weeks’ worth of cum inside of you. You bet he has so much. It might even overflow. With this thought, you move even faster, telling him to keep his eyes on you. “Don’t close your eyes baby, I wanna see those pretty eyes when you cum inside me ok?” you tell him. He tries his hardest to keep his eyes open, but the tears in his eyes cloud his vision. He blinks profusely in an attempt to clear them. He wants you to be the only thing he sees. He’s gonna cum any second now. It feels too good, you’re overwhelming his senses and he can’t hold it anymore. “____! I- fuck I’m cumming I’m cumming I”m sorry I can’t hold it,” his revere breaks as you feel spurts of warm cum release deep in your heat. You gasp and furrow your brows as you halt your movement. Pleasure racks through both of your bodies as you both cum together. You rock your hips back and forth to ride it out but it only causes him to whine loudly in overstimulation. He wants to go again. He still has more to give you.
“Keep going please I still have more,” he says breathily. Unfortunately for him, you are far too tired to keep riding him. Your legs are sore and you’ve frankly overexerted yourself. ‘Maybe I should take up on his offers on going to the gym,’ you think offhandedly. You place your head next to his ear and pant, “Fuck me baby, c’mon. Do whatever you want.” It’s almost as if a flip switches in his brain as he’s given permission to fuck you in any way he pleases. At this, he grips his hips and lifts you up slightly to pound his cock into you. His balls slap against your soft pussy as he sets a quick pace. You feel like a little doll with the way he fucks into you. You can’t help but notice that even when he’s fucking you like this, manhandling you into any position he wants, he’s still whining and looking at you with complete and utter adoration. He pulls you in to give you a sloppy kiss as he cums for the second time that night. He moans into your mouth as you feel the tears that seem to continuously fall from his eyes on your cheeks. He pulls away to give you both a chance to breathe. 
His forehead rests against yours as he gasps for breath. You feel his cock twitch inside of you. “Kookie..are you still-” you stop yourself as he buries his head into your chest and cries. “M’ sorry I just- I missed you so much. I’ve been wanting this so bad angel. I just wanna fuck you over and over again. I’ve been saving it all for you. Just like you told me to,” he sobs into you. Your poor baby, he’s been suffering more than you thought he has. You wonder how he would’ve coped had you not have added the dumb “no touching yourself” to your little challenge. Probably by stroking himself to the thought of you every night. You clench at the thought. He lifts his head with widened eyes. You didn’t cum! And he did! How selfish could he be? He gently lifts you off of him and lays you back on the couch. He gives you a big, loving kiss and makes his way downwards. “Wait! Not on the couch, this shit is hard to clean,” you hurriedly say. He smiles bashfully and picks you up to carry you to your room.
It’s like you weigh nothing to him, a sentiment that makes you blush and giggle into his neck. He smiles and pecks your head before he flops you down on your soft sheets (that’ll definitely need to be washed thoroughly once he’s done with you). He gets down on his knees and looks up at you. You are nothing but a goddess in his eyes. The love of his life. He’ll do anything for you. You stare back at him and card your nails through his hair, gazing at him tenderly. This is exactly how it should be. Him on his knees staring up at you in awe, and you, pushing his head straight to your cum-filled pussy. You’d laugh if he didn’t instantly wrap his lips around your swollen clit. 
He runs his tongue up and down your cunt, cleaning it the best he can whilst simultaneously trying to get you to climax on his tongue. He fucks his tongue into you as he brings his chilly fingers to your clit. You yelp and moan loudly. “Fuck yes, just like that baby. That’s so good,” you praise. His bright eyes look up at you as he rubs your slick bud in circular motions, his tongue never stopping its pace inside. He parts from between your thighs briefly to whisper to you “Please cum for me angel. Wanna make you feel good,” and goes back to eating you with intent. That does it for you, you see a burst of white behind your eyelids as you cum messily on his face. This has got to be the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, as you can’t stop shaking and trembling. He kisses your shaky thighs and caresses them softly to bring you back down.
He kisses his way back up to your face to check if you’re ok. “You alright?” he asks delicately. He pecks all over your face as he sees you slowly but surely come back to him. When your eyes flutter open, you’re shocked to see that his face is drenched. “Did I…,” he smiles brightly and nods. “I made you squirt angel,” he says with a grin. He’s lucky he’s cute, otherwise you’d be extremely annoyed with his cockiness. He looks so proud of himself though, so you’ll let it slide this one time. While you’d love to just pass out and deal with the mess later, you can’t help but notice the incessant hardness poking your stomach. “One more?” you question. He pouts once more and nods with pleading eyes. “Just one more, I promise,” he says. You relent and turn over on your stomach, maybe if he goes easy on you, you can even rest a little while he reaches his peak. But this is Jungkook, of course that’s not going to happen.
He grips your hips and hikes your ass up to get you into just the position he wants. He’s kind enough to put a pillow underneath you so as to not strain your back as much. The tip of his cock has been leaking ever since he got on his knees to eat your pretty pussy that he loves, and the throbbing was starting to become painful. He runs his dick through your folds to slicken himself up and whimpers when the tip catches onto your slit. With a soft kiss to your back, he thrust himself inside. Since he’s eaten you and stretched you so thoroughly, there’s no need for you to adjust, so he starts jackhammering into your cunt right away. He still feels so full, he loves the sound of his fat balls pounding away your plush little pussy. When he feels this good, he can’t seem to keep quiet.
“Mmmm this is so good, so fucking good. I’m so sorry baby, I can’t stop. I wanna fill you over and over. Look so pretty with my cum stuffed inside of you,” and here come the waterworks. He’s so sensitive, fucking you like this almost hurts. But he can’t stop, not until he’s completely empty. His thrusts are nothing short of quick and concise. He loves when you let him use you like this. Nothing but sounds of your wetness, his balls pattering against your bud, and the sounds of your combined moans run throughout the small apartment. You’re definitely gonna get another noise complaint.
“Baby, you can slow down it’s ok, don’t overwork yourself,” you plead. His tears almost make you want to stop him altogether and give him a chance to calm down. Jungkook, on the other hand, has no intentions on stopping. “No! I can’t, I need to keep going! Please don’t make me stop I wanna cum again please please please,” he sobs. He’s so close, he can feel it swirling in his stomach. He just needs a little more and then he can finally milk all the cum he’s been saving for you out of him. You, incidentally, are close to cumming too. In fact, you’re learning that this feeling you’re experiencing is that you’re about to squirt again. “Koo- oh my god, I- baby I’m gonna-” you stumble. “Me too, me too, fuck. Let go angel, make a mess on me again,” he rushes out as his thrusts increase. He spits on his fingers and runs them along your hard little bud. You try to muffle your scream into your pillows as you release all over his chest and your sheets. Seeing and feeling you squirt all over him causes him to reach his climax as well. He pumps every last bit of cum that he has inside your battered pussy as he thanks you profusely. Just as you expected, it overflows and drips back down your thighs. Jungkook collapses as softly as he can on top of you as you both breathe heavily. His cock finally softens and he reluctantly pulls it out as gently as he can. 
As he heavily plops himself down next to you, he sees that you’ve knocked out, already snoring lightly. He chuckles and pulls you into his chest. “Thank you angel. I love you, so so much,” he whispers. This is exactly what he wanted for Christmas. You safe in his arms and full of his cum.
2K notes · View notes
charliedawn · 7 months
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Not sure if you've been asked this before, but imagine a slasher with a nurse that's like John wick? (GN) like it's up to you if they're an assassin but just imagine how comical that'd be like one day they end up taking on like 20 people with ease- k!llin' people with a pencil (😭)
Bonus if we can get the Letters reaction🥺
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"~Oh. You certainly know how to have fun."
He knew, but it doesn’t mean he enjoyed it any less. He saw you cutting and stabbing through flesh like it was nothing with stars in his eyes.
Penny helped you of course. But, he did enjoy watching you kill half of them in a matter of seconds.
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"Well well…Looks like this kitty’s got nasty claws, huh ?"
Pennywise was agreeably surprised. He saw you kill with such ease. He didn’t expect it from you.
He thought you were sweet, but when he saw just how strong you were…He felt his respect growing towards you. Especially since he got to eat half of the guys you murdered.
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Patricia was proud of you.
She looked at you for a moment before taking you in her arms.
"Aww…My little girl/boy all grown up and ready to stab. I am so proud of you."
Proud mother right there. 
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Michael had always been suspicious of you. The way you handled a knife was too precise and efficient. Only a true pro would be able to handle it like that.
But, he only realised how powerful you really were when you heard that one of the slashers had been assaulted and you didn’t even hesitate before stabbing the man/woman in the arm with a pen.
Michael had to stop you and he didn’t even want to. But the way you were going at it, you would have surely lost your job.
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"A pen ?! A freaking pen ?!" *bursts out laughing*
You made Jack’s day. He knew you could be dangerous…but a pen ? Really ?
He could almost taste death in the room and it made him euphoric. He quickly grabbed a snack and leaned back as he enjoyed watching you be violent.
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Norman would be a little puzzled at first, but he’d soon grow interested. He’d try to figure out where your learned to defend yourself and attack with such efficiency.
"That was rather impressive, my little monster…" *waits a few seconds before smirking* "…Do it again."
Norman is as bloodthirsty as they come. He likes to kill, but he’d be thrilled to see you take a life in front of him. It would be like watching an innocent little rabbit turn into a wolf.
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Jason would be surprised.
He always saw you as the nice nurse who wouldn’t hurt a fly. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it at first, but he quickly got used to the idea. He then enjoyed watching you kill. That little sparkle in your eyes when you’d defend the slashers…
He’d even learn to enjoy seeing you have fun at it.
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"High-five !" *proceeds to do just that*
Freddy already liked you, but when he saw you take on a whole team of infiltrated soldiers…He was impressed and aroused.
Freddy is high on pain and suffering. He feeds on fear and would love you even more for it.
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The way you were covered in blood and seemed completely unfazed by it.
The way your eyes completely lost all light and you seemed calm as you stabbed three grown men in the chest.
The way you were barely short of breath after having completely wiped out the enemy.
Brahms barely spoke afterwards.
You thought he was mad at you, but you quickly understood that it was quite the opposite. He had seen a new side of you he didn’t expect. And frankly ? He liked it.
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"…Ya know what ? Ya jus’ made me 100% more into ya, sugar. Consider me a fan."
Bo is violent. He likes violence. So, of course he’d love watching you kill people.
He’d stand there and watch your victims drop like flies with a smile on his face.
He thought about helping, but quickly realised you didn’t need any help and he just enjoyed the show.
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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year
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ngeyn
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ngeyn [ŋɛjn] adj. tired
Anonymous Request: Neteyam x F!Reader where she’s super mentally and emotionally drained and exhausted?
+
Anonymous Request: Neteyam x Omaticaya reader where she flinched during an argument?
In this fic, Neteyam is an adult (about 20) at the beginning of Avatar 2.
762 words
The journey has been longer than I expected. Neteyam's parents had told me it would be, and still, it was harder than I thought.
The last year has been hard on all of us. Everyone has suffered, and we are all tired, and I try to remember that when I feel worn out or want to complain. I try to keep quiet, and almost all of the time, I do.
Leaving the only home I have ever known has put me over the edge. I agreed without hesitation, because Neteyam is my mate, and his family is my family; I will go where he goes, no matter how far - but I miss my parents, and my own siblings, and it's hard to imagine that I may not ever be able to see them again.
As much as I love the Sullys, as much as I am a Sully... I am something else, too.
When we arrive, the beautiful shores that the Metkayina live on ease my worries for only a moment, until I see the icy reception of their Tsahik. Neteyri and Jake do their best to defend our family, and we're allowed to stay.
But they look at us like we're aliens, and one of them grabs my tail, pulling a little too hard. I yelp, and Neteyam turns on his heels, hissing.
"Neteyam!" his father calls, and Neteyam turns to him, eyes narrowed, and we fall back in line with the family. We are led to two pods, mauri, they call them, side by side. Tuk bounces happily along, and Neytiri is clearly displeased. We walk past them to our own pod, just next door, and I set what few things we have brought inside.
"It's nice," Neteyam says, and I stare at him, dropping our bags. "We have to put on a brave face."
"I'm too tired right now, Nete."
He approaches, reaching out and grabbing my arm. "I know. Chin up. It will be okay."
More forcefully that I mean to, I yank my arm from his grasp. "You don't know that! Stop pretending like everything is okay. Everything is... everything is bad, Neteyam. Allow me a few moments, to grieve my parents, and our home, and our way of life."
It will be hard to adapt here, to submit to being a student, to learning all the different ways these people live. I liked our old ways, and our old home, and I don't know who to be mad at.
Neteyam reaches out again, and I flinch away. He stands up straight, backing away.
"Y/N, I'm sorry."
Finally, I break. I have been trying for a long time to remain strong, a steady support for Neteyam, but I can't anymore.
I keep thinking of my tail being pulled on the beach, and wonder what kind of people we've settled with. Now, their cruelty has caused me to flinch at my own mate, who has never laid a hand on me in that way.
Tears spill from my eyes, and I fall forward, into Neteyam's open arms. "I'm sorry," I manage between sobs, and we sink to the floor. Neteyam cradles me in his lap, rocking slowly back and forth, as if I am a child.
I feel as foolish as one.
"I am grateful that these people have taken us in, and I am grateful for you, Neteyam, always. I'm just so tired, and I want to sleep. The thought of learning a whole new way of life is... exhausting."
He runs his fingers through my wind-tangled braids, separating them gently. "We don't have to do that today, Y/N. Today we will just rest. Tomorrow, we can worry about everything else."
Slowly, Neteyam lays back, pulling me along with him, laying me beside him. Our legs intertwine, and he cradles me to his chest.
"Just sleep now, as long as you need to." He presses a soft kiss to my temple. "Tomorrow, we will figure this all out together. You're not alone."
It's just the reminder I need. Even though I'm sad, and tired, and scared... I'm not alone. I have Neteyam, Neytiri, Jake, Kiri, Lo'ak and Tuk, and they all treat me as one of their own.
Jake calls me daughter, Neytiri calls me beloved, and even if I miss my parents, I have a true and wonderful family here.
Most importantly, I have a mate who holds me tenderly and kisses me softly while I cry, and gives me some of his strength when I need it.
We will get through it, together.
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beskarandblasters · 6 months
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Show Her “The Way” To Behave
Professor!Din Djarin x University Student/F!Reader
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Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist
Author’s note: A professor AU but make it ✨Star Wars✨
Summary: You’re a senior at Coruscant University and your advisor tells you that you have to take Mandalorian Studies, a class you’re dreading. You come to learn that Mandalorian Studies is taught by Professor Djarin, a new adjunct professor. It ends up being not too bad but one day you and your friends are making fun of him in the back of class. To your horror he asks you to stay after class so he can “reprimand” you 😉
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, uneven power dynamic, semi public sex, spanking, degradation, pet names (good girl, pretty girl, dirty girl), glove kink, voice kink??, praising, fingering, orgasm delay/denial, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie (that was not agreed to beforehand), no use of y/n
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You’re in your senior year at Coruscant University, inching closer and closer to finally graduating. You’re a history major and while you love history with all of your heart, school is draining you. So when your advisor tells you that you have to take Mandalorian Studies this semester, you’re less than thrilled. She sends you a copy of your schedule on your data pad and you take a look at the Mandalorian Studies section you’re in. And apparently, it’s being taught by Professor Djarin? You don’t even know who that is. Maybe they’re new to campus or an adjunct professor? Whoever they are, you hope they’re a good professor, or else this is about to be the longest and most boring semester of your life. 
You send your schedule to your friends, Helia and Mione, also history majors. To your delight, they’re both in Mandalorian Studies with you. At least you can goof off together. You’re so close to graduating that class isn’t that big of a deal for you anymore, you already have some promising job prospects after graduation. You’ll just have to suffer through this boring class. But at least you and your friends will do it together… Right?
-
It’s the first day of the semester. You’re about to head to Mandalorian Studies, in a particular part of campus you don’t normally frequent. The classroom is your typical university lecture hall, with a pitched floor with a desk situated in the center, large screens behind the desk, and seats on each of the steps. Your friends wave to you and you head over to them, sitting in the seat they saved. 
“Are you ready for the most boring class ever?” Helia snickers. 
“Don’t get me started,” you groan. 
You lean back in your chair and close your eyes, shielding them from the bright lights of the lecture hall. Until you hear a collection of gasps followed by one of your classmates saying, “That’s the professor?”
Your eyes fly open to see a Mandalorian in shiny beskar armor heading down the steps to the desk in the center of the floor. Kriff, you didn’t think the professor himself would actually be a Mandalorian. 
He faces the class, a group of about forty students, and takes a deep breath. 
“Hello. I’m Professor Djarin. Welcome to Mandalorian Studies. This semester we’ll be learning about Mandalorian culture starting from the beginning until the present day.”
Maker, his voice is so nice, with a sultry modulated tone. Maybe you could get used to this. At least the boring topics will have a soothing feel to them. 
That is if you pay attention. Because all of a sudden class is over and you didn’t retain a single piece of information. Great. 
As you leave the classroom you glance over your shoulder and get one last look at Professor Djarin. He notices and his visor locks onto you, so you look away quickly and feel your cheeks go hot. 
Upon entering the hallway your friends say, “Total snooze fest, right?” followed by a laugh. 
“I mean…” you respond. 
“Don’t tell me you actually enjoyed that,” Mione says. 
“I didn’t enjoy it. I just think his voice is nice.”
“Maybe it would be nicer if he wasn’t talking about the most mind-numbing topics in the world,” Helia says. 
“Yeah… I wasn’t paying attention,” you admit. 
“Oof, don’t make that a habit if you actually want to pass. I have no idea how this guy grades,” Helia says, pretending to scold you. 
“Oh, he seems like a total hardass,” you snort. 
You all groan in unison. Here’s to the start of a long semester. 
-
It’s been a few weeks since your class with Professor Djarin started. You’ve been doing… alright. It’s been a little tough to pay attention between zoning out to the sound of his deep voice or your friends goofing off. You got a B+ on your last paper, not your best but also not your worst! It was a paper on the Siege of Mandalore during the Clone Wars, so lots of information and also a heavy topic. 
You’ve also come to a realization you haven’t shared with your friends… Professor Djarin is hot, like really hot. You don’t even know what he looks like under all the armor but between that voice and the way he saunters into the classroom and the way he tilts his helmet to the side whenever he’s listening to someone talk, and- Kriff, you got it bad. 
You’re not even subtle about it, fully checking him out as he’s in the middle of lectures, admiring the way he rests a hand in his belt… the arrow on his glove pointing directly to where his cock is under his flight suit. 
Class is about to get a lot worse for you though. Because you’re sitting in the back like you and your friends typically do. And Professor Djarjn is explaining the Mandalorian phrase “This is the way” and… you all can’t stop laughing. 
“This is wayyy,” Helia says in the sassiest but also quietest voice she can muster. 
“This is the wahhh,” Mione says, holding back her own laughter. 
It shouldn’t be funny but it is. And you’re doing your best to stifle your laughs but it’s hard, threatening to rip themselves free from your throat. You swipe the tears from the corners of your eyes and blink a few times to regain focus to see… Professor Djarin staring directly at you. 
“Oh kriff, guys stop it,” you say, lightly slapping Helia on the arm. 
“What?” she asks before following your gaze and realizing what’s going on. “Oh,” she lets out softly. 
For the rest of the class you don’t look at each other, because if you do the laughter threatens to come back. Thankfully, Professor Djarin didn’t say anything. Maybe it’ll all be okay. 
Class is over finally and you get ready to leave. But before you pass through the door, you feel a hand on your shoulder followed by your name being called out. It’s Professor Djarin. You don’t even need to turn around to confirm it. The voice is a dead giveaway. 
You turn around to face the stone-cold glare of the T-shaped visor and take a deep breath. 
“Can you stay back for a moment?”
“S-Sure.”
“You guys don’t have to wait. I’ll catch up with you later,” you say to your friends, both of them looking like they’ve seen a ghost judging by their clammy, panicked appearance. 
This has to be about what happened in class just now. What else could it possibly be? 
But if this is about being reprimanded… Why isn’t he making them stay after class, too?
He walks past you and locks the door, before turning to you and saying, “Meet me by my desk.”
He heads down to the desk and you gulp. Why did he lock the classroom door? This can’t be good. 
You head down the steps and set your bag on an empty chair before walking over to him, facing him and his glaring stance. 
“Do you know why I’m speaking to you privately right now?”
“Look, if this is about what me, Helia and Mione were doing, I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect. I was trying not to laugh but-”
“Oh, before we even get to the topic of that. We need to talk about you eyeing me up and down like a piece of meat, in my own classroom.”
“Uhh-”
“Oh yes, I noticed, pretty girl. Doesn’t help that you’re so obvious about it.”
You’re mortified right now, completely skipping over the fact that he called you pretty girl. As soon as this little talk is over, you’re heading to your advisor’s office and dropping this class. 
“I’m-I’m sorry,” you manage to spit out. 
“That’s all you have to say?”
“W-what do you want me to say?”
“How about I’m sorry, sir?” 
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“I don’t think that’s enough. I think you need to be punished.”
“What? Please, sir. I’ve already apologized.”
“And I said I don’t think that’s enough, pretty girl. Bend over the desk.”
You can’t deny how hot this is. Being disciplined by the hot professor? Never in your wildest dreams did you think this would happen, especially in this class. 
You move around to the back of the desk, bending over and resting on your elbows. You picked the worst day (or maybe the best day) to wear a skirt. As you bend over, your skirt rides up, exposing more of your thighs. He moves behind you, running his gloved hands along your soft flesh. 
“And who do you think you are? Wearing this short skirt to my class like a whore. Did you want my attention?”
“Maybe…”
“What was that?” he says, resting a hand on your ass. You also picked the worst day (or again, maybe the best day) to go commando. You shiver at the feeling of the leather against your bare ass. 
“Yes, sir,” you say, gasping at the end of your sentence as he runs finger along your entrance. You’re already soaked, having fantasized about him in every class since you laid eyes on him. And of course he notices, bringing his hand in front of your face to show you the physical proof. 
“Dirty, dirty girl, getting wet in class while I’m just trying to teach… Time for you to get punished.”
He moves his hand from your face and spanks you on the ass, the leather colliding with your skin. You let out a moan, the stinging feeling left on your skin in the aftermath. 
“You liked that, didn’t you?” he rasps by your ear. 
Another spank. Another moan, this one deeper than the last. 
“Dirty girl likes getting punished over my desk, doesn’t she?”
“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, getting off from the sound of his voice and the feeling of his gloves on your ass. 
“Thought so,” he tuts, drawing his hand back and spanking your ass again. 
You moan again and he says, “I don’t think the spanking is enough. I think you need a real punishment.”
“Please, sir.”
He runs his hand along your wetness again before sliding a finger inside, slowly working your walls before adding a second one. You think about his gloved fingers, pumping in and out of you. Kriff, that thought drives you crazy. 
“You get to cum when I say so, got it? And don’t even think about coming without telling me, or I’ll pull out so fast.”
You whine in response, prompting him to grab you by the throat and pull you upright against him. 
“Got it?” he reiterates. 
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
“Be a good girl for me,” he teases, letting go of your throat and bending you over the desk again. 
He curls his fingers inside you, pressing up against your g-spot. You feel your pleasure mounding, teetering on the edge of orgasm. You do your best to hold off, to wait for his approval but it’s too hard. 
“Please, sir. Can I cum?”
“Not yet,” he commands. 
You whimper in response, fearing you won’t be able to hold on and you’ll be punished. 
“Please, sir,” you beg, the desperation heavy in your voice. 
“Fine,” he sighs, feigning kindness. 
You cum around his fingers, his leather-clad fingers, shaking against the desk. You shake a little bit, knees threatening to give out just from being fingered. He pulls his fingers from you once you’re done coming, spreading your release around his cock and slamming into you, giving you no time to recover. 
“Oh, kriff,” you curse, walls adjusting to the newfound length and girth inside you.
“You can take it,” he commands. 
“Yes, sir,” you spit in between your labored breathing. 
His hands grip your hips tightly as he fucks you against the desk, making it shake beneath you. He pulls you into him as he thrusts back into you, making your ass slam up against his groin, all while he talks you through it. 
“Dirty girl likes taking my cock over my desk, huh?”
“It’s- it’s so good, sir,” you respond, completely blissed out. 
“Oh, I know. And you’re taking it like such a good girl,” he praises. 
You whimper at his praise and stars cloud your vision, the euphoria swirling throughout your body.
“Can I please cum?”
“I suppose since you’re taking my cock so good, pretty girl.”
His praise does it again, pushing you over the edge. You cum around his cock, convulsing and gripping him as you ride out your high. The lecture hall is filled with the sounds of your moans and cries as he fucks you through your release. 
“Good girl,” he praises, his voice dripping with his own pleasure. 
He grunts and you feel his cock twitch inside you. Kriff, he’s going to cum soon. Before you can even tell him to pull out he’s painting your insides with his release, holding your hips in place. He pulls out of you once he’s done and you collapse onto the desk, your knees finally giving out. 
There’s a layer of wetness in between you and the desk. Professor Djarin chuckles and says, “Look at you. Made a mess all over my desk.” 
You pull yourself off and smooth down your skirt, averting your gaze to the floor. 
“Sorry about that,” you say sheepishly. 
“Don’t worry about it,” he chuckles again. 
“Well, uh, I’m sorry about what happened in class earlier. It won’t happen again,” you respond, suddenly feeling embarrassed. 
You grab your bag off the chair and quickly head out. But before you can leave through the door, he says, “Feel free to stay late after the next class,” in a sly tone, hands on hips. 
You nod, feeling your face go hot, and dart out the door. 
Yeah, you’re definitely not dropping his class now. 
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Banners + dividers by @saradika
Special thank you to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for helping me come up with the title and for beta reading!
Follow @beskarandblastersfics and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post a new fic!
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steddieasitgoes · 7 months
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written for @eddiemonth Day 6 Prompt: Crush cw: period typical homophobia read on ao3 | link to my ao3 Eddie Month series
The Hawkins High Library is somehow both quiet and bustling. There’s not a free table in sight; students hunched together in groups of twos and threes. Loners are forced to share with others. All of them with their noses deep into study guides, highlighters perched between tense lips. Some flip through flashcards, mumbling answers as the librarian watches over with a stern look, ready to shush anyone who dares make a sound. 
The sun beats down on the small room, rays of warmth promising free days to come. Summer break is on the horizon. All that stands between them and three months of endless freedom is finals. 
Finals, which, in Eddie’s case, don’t just promise a summer of freedom. But a life free from high school altogether. Assuming he manages to finally pass Mrs. O’Donnell’s chemistry final. 
The odds of this happening, though, are not very great. Especially since he’s already failed her chemistry class once before. (Honestly, Hawkins High should just hire a new chemistry teacher and stop putting everyone through her miserable class.) 
But it’s okay because Eddie’s actually been trying this semester. 
As in, he finally suffered through the mortifying ordeal of asking for help and landed himself the best tutor that Hawkins High has to offer: Nancy Wheeler. 
With her help, he’s managed to bring his F up to a low D- which isn’t great, but it's the closest he’s ever been to passing. Now, all he has to do is get a C on the final and submit some lame extra credit essay, and he should be able to turn that D- into a D+ and pass the class. 
At least, that’s the plan. 
Which is why he’s currently tucked away at a library table opposite Nancy and the King of Hawkins high himself, Steve Harrington, instead of bumming around in Jeff’s garage planning their summer Hellfire campaign. 
“Okay,” Nancy says, pulling his attention away from the giant library window. She’s holding an index card in her hands. Her usual pristine manicure chipped. Nails bit as short as possible. Eddie supposes the stress of finals even gets to the nerds. “A proton has what kind of charge?” 
“Positive.” 
She nods, not one for verbal praise, and flips to the next card. “What happens in an endergonic reaction?” 
Shit.
He should know this one. 
Eddie taps his pencil against the table. Tilts his head back until his eyes are focused on the ugly popcorn ceiling of the library as if it holds the answers. It doesn’t, unfortunately. Frustrated, he buries his head in his hands for a moment before peering up at Nancy with his big brown eyes and a solemn look on his face. 
Steve scoffs beside Nancy, looking up from his own study guide to throw an arm possessively around her. 
Eddie’s about to call him out on his weird macho man behavior when his stomach starts to growl. Jesus H. Christ. He knew he shouldn’t have skipped lunch today. 
Nancy sighs, shaking Steve’s arm off of her as she stands. “I’m going to go grab us some snacks from the vending machine.” 
“You’re the best, Wheeler!” Eddie smiles, watching as Nancy walks away. 
When he turns back to the table, ready to flip the flashcard over to learn what an endergonic reaction is, Steve is glaring at him. His arms are crossed tightly across his chest as he leans back in the chair. Eddie can tell he’s trying to look casual and unbothered, but the tension in his jaw and the rage in his eyes say otherwise. 
“What’s got your panties in a twist, my liege?” 
Steve scoffs, shaking his head. “Do you think I’m stupid, Munson? I can see you flirting with my girlfriend right in front of me.” 
Eddie stares at Steve dumbfounded, wide eyes blinking as Steve continues to glare. There’s a rumble in the pit of his stomach, one that stems from laughter instead of hunger, but Eddie bites the inside of his cheek to keep it at bay. Something tells him laughing at Steve isn’t going to end well for him. He might have a bad track record when it comes to fights, but the only punch Eddie has ever thrown was accidental at a haunted house. And he ended up bruising his own hand instead of the clown’s nose. 
“I don’t have a crush on Nancy.” 
“Sure you don’t,” Steve hums sarcastically, crossing his arms even tighter. 
The stupid sleeves of his striped polo strain against the bulge of his biceps, and Eddie tries his best not to stare. Oh, if only you knew the truth, Harrington.
“Every guy here has a crush on Nancy. Especially since they know they can’t have her.” 
This time, it’s Eddie who scoffs. Objectively, sure, Nancy’s cute and all. But, the audacity of Harrington to think every guy wants her just because he has her is more irritating than comical. He doesn’t think Nancy would be too thrilled about it either. 
“I don’t know what to tell you, Harrington, but I don’t think about Nancy like that.” 
“So, what are you a queer then?” Steve snaps. 
Eddie feels his skin heat up like the blood is rushing to his cheeks and his ears, and then, as quickly as the temperature rises, it sinks, sending him into a numbing cold. Judging by Harrington’s wide eye gaze, Eddie assumes he looks like a guy who’s two seconds away from hurling or passing out on the floor. Both of which he’d welcome. Anything is better than having this conversation with Harrington. 
“Wait,” Steve says as if Eddie has the strength to get up from his seat. “Shit, I’m sorry. I— I don’t know why I said that. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m really sorry, man. I’m trying not to be this asshole, and then I go and say asshole shit like that. I just—“ Steve drags both hands down his face as he groans.
“You’re in love with her and don’t want another freak stealing her from you?” Eddie supplies, totally caught off guard by the sound of his own voice. Honestly, he’s kinda proud of himself for stringing together a coherent sentence, let alone a dig like that, after Steve’s insult-turned-apology. 
Steve doesn’t say anything, just stares at Eddie with those stupid wide eyes, and his even stupider lips barely parted. 
“What? It was kind of hard to ignore the little lover's quarrel you and Byers got into last winter. But trust me, Harrington. You have nothing to worry about. All I want from Wheeler is her help passing chem. As soon as I get that, I’ll be out of both of your hair.” 
Eddie can tell Steve’s thinking of a way to respond to that, but he never gets the chance because Nancy reappears just then. She dumps a handful of “brain food” on the table  — mostly trail mix concoctions and a lone Snickers bar — and passes each of the boys a bottle of water. It’s not exactly what Eddie was hoping for when she left for snacks, but he’s not about to complain. 
“Okay, so, endergonic reactions.” 
+ + +
Truthfully, Eddie should stop making plans since they never seem to go his way. What was supposed to be a chill, music-filled spring break has turned into quite the opposite. 
Instead, he’s spent the last two days in hiding, with only a handful of people keeping him safe, including Harrington and Wheeler, of all people. 
So much for staying out of their hair, he thinks manically, as he walks in tandem beside Steve in the actual hell-like version of Hawkins. They trail behind Robin and Nancy, Eddie rambling on and on about Steve, but he just can’t shut up. Maybe it’s the nerves, maybe it’s the memory of the three of them back in that library, maybe it’s just Eddie self-sabotaging because seeing Steve in his vest is doing things to him. Things he doesn't have time to deal with, especially not when Wheeler is right there.
Whatever it is, Eddie’s about to do the stupidest thing he’s ever done, aside from jumping into Lover's Lake in the first place.
Steve stops walking the minute Eddie starts talking about why he followed them here. They stop beside a tree, and Eddie angles his body so he’s in front of Steve. Probably closer than he should be, but Eddie’s not about to step backward. Not when there could be a creepy vine ready to trip him and give their positions away to the hoard of bats in the sky. No, thank you. 
He presses on instead, talking about Nancy and her incredible reaction time to Steve being dragged deeper and deeper into the murky waters. 
“Now, I don’t know what happened between you two, but if I were you, I would get her back,” Eddie says, eyes locked with Steve’s. “Because that was an unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.” 
With a hand clasped over his heart, Eddie watches as Steve glances towards Nancy’s direction. There’s a moment where Eddie thinks Steve’s actually going to listen to him. Run after the girl of his dreams and professes his undying love to her in the middle of the hell dimension version of Hawkins. But then, he slowly turns his head back toward Eddie and shakes his head. 
“I don’t...” Steve hesitates, eyes flickering to Eddie’s lips for the briefest of seconds before settling back on his eyes. He shakes his head. “I don’t have a crush on Nancy, man.” 
Eddie cocks his head in surprise. Lets a cackle of a laugh escape his lips as he stares back at Steve in disbelief. “You don’t have to bullshit me, man. It’s pretty clear you still have a thing for her. I mean, every guy in Hawkins has a crush on Nancy, remember.” 
Steve’s brows knit together, lips agape in that same stupid thinking face he gave Eddie all those years ago in the Hawkins High library. It’s aggravating how cute it is, even now when Steve’s covered in blood and grime and God knows what else. 
“Yeah, well,” Steve says, eyes slowly tracking Eddie from head to toe and back up again. “Turns out you were right. Not every guy has a crush on her. Some of us have eyes for someone else.” 
Just as Steve starts to lean in, the ground beneath them starts to rumble and shake, sending them both toppling to the floor. Whatever moment just happened between them disappears as the reality of their situation hits them again.
There’s no time for crushes when their lives are at stake. 
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kimbureh · 2 months
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Rescue = Family
The new episode of TBB (S03E04) further develops the theme of "rescue means family". Since season 1, Hunter is occupied with rescuing Omega cuz she's family to him. Echo rescues regs cuz they are family to him. Rescuing someone means accepting them into your family; not rescuing someone means rejecting them from your family. The latter thing is what happened to Crosshair (kinda like in a messy breakup, where Hunter takes the kid cuz Crosshair is a neglectful parent, lol).
Crosshair is the lone wolf, lonely sniper type. He doesn't have a family because he hasn't mastered the art of rescuing someone. The series has established the connection of "rescuing someone means they're family" numerous times, and Crosshair has never managed to rescue anybody. He arguably tried in the season 1 finale by offering the squad a place with the Empire, but while this might have been a good offer in Crosshair's mind, it was ultimately toxic and bound to fail. Crosshair tries again to save someone on Barton-4 where Mayday dies in his arms after a long struggle; Crosshair was ready to form a bond, but external circumstances (aka the Empire) prevented that. The Empire, of course, has a vested interest in isolating its soldiers from each other; the brotherly bonds between the clones are a liability and are therefore replaced by conscripted recruits who don't share a familial connection. There can't be a family under the regime of the Empire, that's why Crosshair's attempts of rescue have to fail as long as he's with them.
In season 3, Crosshair no longer is with the Empire, and *finally* his rescue attempts aren't toxic anymore, he just complains about them all the time, haha. Healing kinda feels uncomfortable and Crosshair is very vocal about that discomfort, but he *is* on a path of learning how to bond. Omega and Crosshair rescue each other during their escape. And then Crosshair saves the dog in episode 4, the very same episode in which Crosshair is called a Dad. He is finally crossing the threshold of being toxic and isolated and steps towards becoming an actual parent/family member.
That's the analysis part, speculation ahead.
I think The Harbinger (title of episode 8) refers to Tech who is now with the Empire. If that was the case, Crosshair gets a chance to rescue him. If Tech is with the Empire, he represents Crosshair's former self. Crosshair would not only be able to rescue his teammate and affirm his family bonds with him, but he also metaphorically gets to save himself. Imperial Tech needs saving, just as Crosshair did when he was with the Empire and suffering from this decision. It would be a chance for Hunter to make things right with Crosshair via Tech and not again leave behind a family member with the Empire, even if they act toxic (or incomprehensible).
I expect the family/squad only to grow from here on out. I think Echo isn't in season 3 so far for a very good reason; he'll show up to rescue Tech (cuz that'll be a group effort), and once Tech is back, Echo's role is to expand the family even further by connecting the Bad Batch family with the Reg family. Since Echo is both, a Bad Batcher *and* a reg, he is in the unique position to unify the two branches of the family. I think that would be a rewarding high note with which to end the series; the Batch and the regs overcoming their differences and reuniting as the family they have always been.
[all of my TBB meta here]
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lu-is-not-ok · 10 months
Text
Let’s talk about K Corp Hong Lu
Look. He got me. He got me bad. I can’t explain just how badly he got me. There is so much I want to dissect about him. So you know what?
This is going to be my first Identity Analysis. Fuck it we ball.
Before I get into it though, let me make myself clear: unlike E.G.O Analysis, I will not be taking Identity Analysis requests. This is because Identities inherently come with A Lot more content to analyse, and it’s not really something I’m willing to sit down and do at the whim of anyone and everyone. E.G.O Analyses already take me a while to do. I hope you guys can understand that.
With that out of the way, let’s get into it. Cue Game Theory intro or some shit.
Let’s start with the obvious, K Corp Hong Lu’s uptie story and his dialogue lines.
While his uptie story serves mostly to introduce more lore about Class 3 Excision Staff, it does provide some additional context to Hong Lu’s situation in this specific Mirror World.
To summarize, Class 3 Excision Staff are effectively K Corp branded super soldiers, whose main trait is nigh invulnerability due to extremely heavy dosage of K Corp ampules. However, this comes at a rather ironic cost - this same dosage could instantly kill them if something within their bodies changes just enough to make them no longer compatible, rendering them extremely fragile to even something as mundane as dreaming. As such, they have to be kept in complete stasis when not deployed, to ensure their state is constantly stable and so that they don’t accidentally get fucking gooped from thinking the wrong way.
Effectively, they are forced to not exist outside of their purpose, as trying to could lead to their death. They have no freedom by nature of what they are.
Besides that lore dump, we also learn some interesting things about Hong Lu in that Mirror World.
For one, it’s his family who got him into this job. Specifically, his grandmother directed him here, stating she wanted Hong Lu to see more of the City and experience new things. A rather... odd motivation for putting your grandson in a position that stays stuck in a tube in suspended animation 90% of the time.
This is something the scientist in charge of waking Hong Lu up doubts it as well, wondering if Excision staff truly is the right position if that’s what she actually wanted for Hong Lu. Hong Lu, for what it’s worth, doesn’t seem to actually care about her motivations, claiming he’s fine with his situation as long as he gets to have new experiences. Put a pin in that, I’ll try to remember to go back to this.
Another thing we learn is that Hong Lu seems to react oddly to being put into complete stasis. It’s noted that he doesn’t seem to suffer from any side-effects upon waking up from suspended animation, and that him being able to immediately talk up researchers for attention is in no way expected behavior. However the process is meant to work, it’s implied to not be as simple as pressing the pause and resume button on a person.
Likewise, it’s noted as odd that he seems refreshed upon being woken up, implying that, again, this is not how it’s supposed to work, as Class 3 Staff doesn’t seem to be able to “rest” in the traditional sense of the word.
In fact, there’s something weird about him that I myself noticed that doesn’t seem to be directly pointed out. Hong Lu notes that he feels extremely bored when not deployed, saying that relieving that boredom is his reason for constantly chatting up researchers whenever he’s woken.
The thing is... by all means, Hong Lu shouldn’t be feeling bored. Being put into suspended animation is outright stated to put one’s consciousness into stasis as well, as subconscious thoughts are one of the things that could destabilize one’s ampule compatibility. Hong Lu, by all means, should not be cognizant enough of his surroundings and time spent in stasis to be able to be aware of how unoccupied he is during that time.
While it could very well be just a figurative figure of speech he uses to carry his point across (as Hong Lu isn’t exactly the most honest person in any Mirror World), the fact that there is Something Clearly Off about how he experiences stasis means there very much could be something more to it.
There is a chance that odd trait of his could be connected to the SP restoration abilities of his alternate versions. While K Corp Hong Lu is the second Hong Lu to not have any mechanics tied to restoring SP (Kurokumo Hong Lu being the first), it’s not impossible that for him specifically, they translate into something not applicable to combat.
Could it be that whatever is able to keep most other Hong Lus’ Sanity up is what’s causing him to potentially stay semi-cognizant in stasis? It might be a stretch, but I feel like the fact that it’s something that’s partially pointed out to us means there’s something more to it.
It would certainly explain a lot of his oddities. Why he’s able to so quickly bounce back upon being woken, why he seems to actually rest when in stasis, and why he seems to be aware enough of his time spent there to feel bored. For whatever reason, his consciousness seems resistant enough to not let itself be fully put into suspended animation.
Remember how I mentioned how Class 3 Staff has no freedom because of the nature of what they are. Well, I think this applies even more for Hong Lu in this specific case. Because of something inherent to him, he can’t be put into full stasis. Whereas other Class 3 Staff are able to stay blissfully unaware of their time spent stuck in their glass coffins, Hong Lu can’t. He perceives it, whether he wants it or not. In a way, he’s even less free than those who already have no freedom.
When it comes to K Corp Hong Lu’s dialogue lines, there’s something I want to note about their delivery. It seems to me that, in general, his dialogue lines carry notably less energy than the dialogue lines of his other Identities. There are a lot more lines where his voice is lowered, or in some way faltering, compared to other Hong Lus.
While most of the actual content of his dialogue lines is hinting at info we learn through the uptie story, there is some interesting things to note.
One - Hong Lu feels like it’s been a very long time since he began his job at K Corp. Hearing about daytime makes him reminisce about how he used to drink at that time of the day, and being asked why he joined K Corp he notes how it feels like it’s been ages ago, and even seems to be slightly unsure about it in fact being his grandmother who sent him there. ...Just how long has he been working there?
Two - Hong Lu’s desperation. It’s clear Hong Lu much prefers actually doing his job to sitting in a glass tube for days on end - he expresses excitement at the idea of being deployed more often, and takes joy in being able to breathe fresh air after a long while. He’s also notably down when he realizes Dante won’t talk to him anymore. However, the one line that stood out to me the most here is his Ex-Clear victory line, where he hesitantly pleads to have just A Little Bit of free time before he has to go back into stasis.
Now, time for the Fun Part. Time to look at the Sin affinities and try to dissect what the fuck they mean on IDs.
Before we talk about what Sin affinities K Corp Hong Lu has, let’s talk about one he doesn’t have - Lust. The Sin representing actions done to indulge desires or seek personal fulfillment.
I feel like this is extremely important, as every other Hong Lu ID has some Lust affinity in one way or another, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this specific one lacks it.
As a quick recap: Kurokumo Hong Lu has Lust as his Skill 1, Tingtang Hong Lu and Liu Hong Lu both have Lust as their Skill 2, and Base Hong Lu has Lust as his Skill 3.
To briefly summarize what I think this all means for each Hong Lu without getting into full Sin affinity analysis for all of them:
Kurokumo Hong Lu’s Lust represents how his actions seem at first glance. He’s acting according to his own desires and whims, not caring to follow other people’s orders if he doesn’t want to.
Tingtang Hong Lu’s Lust presents as a slightly deeper motivation. He seeks out a dopamine rush at every opportunity he has, diving head first into gambling and murder just to satisfy his desires.
Liu Hong Lu’s Lust is similarly a deeper motivation. He likewise seeks to indulge himself, though in his case it’s him fully leaning into the comforts his rich family enables him to enjoy, like the incredibly expensive tea he seems to be obsessed with.
Base Hong Lu’s Lust is what I’d like to call his Core Sin. At their very core, Hong Lu’s actions are driven by his need to have his desires be satisfied, whether it’s his curiosity, his wish for comfort, or his need for attention. That’s the main driving force behind who he is and what he does.
As one can see, Lust is Incredibly Important to who Hong Lu is as a person in every Mirror World. So, what does this mean for K Corp Hong Lu?
It’s bad. It’s Bad? It’s really not good.
Because this means that in his current situation, K Corp Hong Lu does not care to have his needs satisfied. In fact, I don’t think he’s even in a position to be able to care about that. He’s reduced to only truly existing as a tool, a weapon for K Corp to use, and when he has no purpose to fulfill he’s put into stasis that doesn’t even seem to fully work on him.
How would he even begin to try to fulfill his desires in such a state? He’s barely able to resolve his own by-now-probably-chronic boredom, to the point he actually enjoys his job. Hong Lu, whose Mirror Identities consistently mention either not liking to do what other people tell them to do or simply finding it more tiring to do something as a job than doing the same thing off-the-clock? You’re telling me That Hong Lu is actually enjoying his job?
Can you see why this Identity has been fucking with me so much?
But oh wait, we’re not done. Oh hell no we’re not done. We actually have to analyze the Actual affinities K Corp Hong Lu has, cause hoo boy they tell a story.
The Affinity of an ID’s Skill 1 usually represents what Sin that Identity’s actions present as upon first glance. In this case, K Corp Hong Lu’s actions present as Pride, as actions done purely for their benefit while the consequences are ignored.
This, I think, fits what we know about him pretty well. He finds delight in deployment regardless of the harm he has to inflict as part of his job, simply because it provides momentary relief to his boredom. Likewise, one could interpret the action of becoming part of the Excision Staff as prideful. Hong Lu remains in his position for the sake of “new experiences” (and because Granny said so), all the while ignoring the way he suffers because of it.
The Affinity of an ID’s Skill 2 usually reflects a Sin corresponding to an Identity’s deeper motivation behind their actions. For K Corp Hong Lu, this is Gluttony, representing the motivation of hunger, whether in the form of hunger for survival or hunger for more.
In this case, I think we can firmly place K Corp Hong Lu on the Survival part of the Gluttony duality. As I laid out way earlier, Hong Lu here has no choice but to do as K Corp tells him, as otherwise he will literally die. There’s also a way we can interpret it as part of his motivation for joining K Corp in the first place. If his grandmother wanted him to work here, did he really have a choice, or would the consequences of disobeying be far worse than what he has to put up with in here?
Then, there’s Skill 3. I interpret the Affinity of an ID’s Skill 3 as the main driving force of that Identity, their Core Sin, so to speak. For K Corp Hong Lu, this is Sloth, the Sin of apathy, resignation, and inaction.
This, I think, is where K Corp Hong Lu’s deal is truly revealed. He is fully resigned to his fate as a Class 3 Staff. It no longer matters to him to do anything but follow orders without question, because what else does he have left? Staying half-asleep in a glass tube for the rest of his life? Dying? No wonder he’s finding delight in deployment, he has literally nothing else. The only reason he’s not outwardly hopeless is, well, because he’s Hong Lu. And a Hong Lu will try to smile through everything, no matter how badly it hurts.
I also think it’s important to note that there is only one other Hong Lu ID right now that shares K Corp Hong Lu’s Skill 3 Affinity - Kurokumo Hong Lu. This might seem weird, considering Kurokumo Hong Lu’s whole thing is being staunchly against being ordered around... Except this quickly falls apart when you actually look at his actions. Yes, he complains and doesn’t respect his superiors, but. He still follows orders. He’s still good at following orders. As much as he hates doing it, he has no choice but to do it. And so, he’s also just as resigned to his fate at his core as K Corp Hong Lu is.
Now, with all of that being said, there’s one more thing I want to talk about here. What does this mean for Base Hong Lu. Our Hong Lu.
While Dante’s Notes very directly point out that Mirror World versions can be nigh unrecognisable in personality to their Base counterparts, I think it’s a mistake to fully dismiss them.
I think, in one way or another, the alternate Identities of Sinners are meant to tell us something about the Sinner in question, whether by implying something that they may be hiding, or by paralleling the Sinner’s situation in a more symbolic manner.
Remember that part I said to put a pin in? How K Corp Hong Lu doesn’t care for his grandmother’s motivations for making him take this job, since he’s getting something out of it?
That. That feels extremely important to me.
While you could definitely make the argument that in general K Corp Hong Lu’s whole situation could be a symbolic parallel to how his family treats him as nothing but an object that ceases to matter once its purpose is fulfilled (which I think still applies as well by the way), I think there is something more important here.
The idea that as long as Hong Lu is being cared for by his family, as long as he benefits in some way from having to bear the pain, he will not question their motivations and goals.
In a way, we already knew that. We already knew from Base Hong Lu’s dialogue that he still views his family positively despite the abuse he very likely went through at their hands. However, I think K Corp Hong Lu’s attitude here further confirms that idea. That as long as his family shows Some form of love towards him, he won’t question how horrible they have been to him.
Because if they love him, there’s no way they’re Actually being that bad towards him, right?
...
God Canto 8 is gonna hit way too fucking hard for me and not even deep-diving into Hong Lu can prepare me for it.
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yunarim · 9 months
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So I've been listening to a lot of Swan Lake lately (and I've recently been listening to the Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses theme on loop for the past half an hour) and this got me thinking.
What about the Pomefiore trio and a female ballerina!reader who was an accomplished ballerina back in her world?
Maybe they see her dancing in an empty classroom and then get shown recordings of her performances on her phone (that was transported with her) and they are just spellbound at the elegance of her dancing.
Thank you.
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── ⋅⋅⋅ FEEL MY RHYTHM | follow the song and dance in the moonlight
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♩ ⁺✧ fem!reader (she/her), ballerina!reader | vil schoenheit, rook hunt, epel felmier note — aahhh sorry for taking so long ;; i hope it's okay and you enjoyed the fic!
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VIL SCHOENHEIT sighs in disappointment when another student who tries passing a casting for a new project he assigned fails miserably. Rook beside him claps, blooming with ‘beauté!!’ nevertheless, while Epel who got dragged along sends mental signals to the failed student to cheer up. 
Vil thinks it’s easier to rewrite the whole plot of the play he’s preparing for the theatre club’s project or maybe make Rook or Epel learn ballet in a span of two months. He dismisses the casting and claims he needs some fresh air because it gets almost unbearable. 
It’s not like club members or just anyone in school needs to know how to dance ballet. It’s not like people who tried (and failed) are bad dancers either, they just lack the elegance and the right mood needed for the story. Vil sighs, stepping out of the building.
A light, gentle music plays somewhere. Vil heads out towards the sweet sound and hears someone counting beats. How curious, why would such majestic music play out of nowhere? Moreover, beats counting?
He then sees you. The shoes you usually wear are left all forgotten near the tree right next to your other belongings. Your gaze is full of concentration just for one mere moment before the look in your eyes changes drastically, a dreamy fleur blossoms instead. Vil’s breath hitches when he sees pointe shoes on your feet. Your legs are steady yet don’t lack spring ability, your every step is filled with grace and make your figure seem light and almost doll-like. The way you raise your hands, even no unnecessary angles in your finger joints, how your eyelashes flatter under the setting sun — you’re flawless. 
He watches you performing till the very end, you don’t even need music to express what the dance was supposed to be about — your every movement is filled with emotion. You blink your concentration and turn to Vil, finally noticing him. He explains to you there’s a project he’s arranging and whether or not you’re interested in taking part in. You accept his offer. 
Vil returns to the Pomefiore ballroom in a brilliant mood, surprising Rook and Epel and claiming he found a real gem. The next day you send him videos of your previous theatre plays you did back in your world, and he can’t help but save them all. 
When you finally perform on stage again, you feel alive and happy. Vil watches you backstage after playing his part, and tries to remain professional when Rook points out it’s his turn again and he needs to join you on the stage, because he gets bewitched by your dance every time he sees it.  Suggests you to continue your career in Twisted Wonderland and even says he would be happy to design outfits for your plays. Smirks proudly when hears students discussing your dance with ‘Did you know that Prefect is a ballerina?!’, ‘Sevens, I never knew she’s that elegant!’ and such.
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It is no wonder ROOK HUNT is interested in Art (capital letter is essential). His aesthetic appreciation scale was suffering a deficiency in something extraordinary, novel and totally unique, a 100% of pure Beauté in all its might. 
It is nice — to be able to sneak out from the campus to go on something people would call a stroll, but it is nothing else than an observational journey for Rook. Seeing city lights creating a certain atmosphere when entering a live theatre is magnificent and genuinely romantic. 
Rook’s smile is plastered on his face when he’s watching young people play, giving their everything, but something still tells Rook it’s not enough for him to return back home yet. The play ends, Rook congratulates actors by giving them splendid bouquets and goes outside. It’s strange — the stars are already glowing in a gorgeous magnificent night sky, but he almost feels with his own skin that somewhere nearby something’s radiating a warm light.
Indeed, he finds its source. A small park near the theatre is lightened up a bit, a flashlight’s ray in a fixed position. Rook chuckles, deciding to observe the place a little more, and then he gasps.
It’s you. How very interesting—what would you do in such a place outside of the campus late at night? A flashlight serving as a spotlight, and… Ah, what beautiful pointe shoes you’re wearing! Your lips let out a small exhale before you straighten up and take a position; a tender melody heard ever so slightly in the earphones you wear. 
You perform a bewitching pirouette, absence of heaviness in your tiptoes. You seem to soar like a graceful feather, and even despite the clothes not intended for ballet (except for pointe shoes), you demonstrate impressive marvels of refined technique and skill. Rook knows what it takes to dance so gracefully like you do. It’s not just the ingenuity you’ve certainly got, but also passion. It’s not the dance you perform, it’s life in all its finesse and sincerity. Rook doesn’t need a grand music to understand what you're saying through the little performance, he feels it. 
When the song ends, you change the pointe shoes you were wearing into your normal ones, and smile. 
“Mon cygne, could you please allow me to appreciate your gracefulness?”
You jolt, but giggle the second Rook takes your hand in his and presses a weightless kiss on your palm. 
“I don’t mind,” you answer. “I wanted to try applying in the theatre nearby but I haven’t practiced for a while…”
You then show him your previous performances back in your world, and he’s completely spellbound by your allure. Worry not, you’ll definitely get the role you want, and who knows, maybe an extremely loyal admirer as well? 
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Let’s be real, EPEL FELMIER hates Vil the second the dorm leader assigns him with a certain oh-so-important-task. Epel survived a strict diet (which was actually quite healthy but oh come on, Epel wanted those new chips which appeared in Sam’s shop so bad), but dancing? Hello?? He’s in a Magift club?? No?? Okay.
Epel’s furious. He doesn’t want to take extra dancing classes. Moreover huh, ballet out of dances! Breakdance sounds quite cool, why not that? Isn’t like, all dances are nice and all about technique and things? Epel sighs in frustration while heading out to the Pomefiore ballroom. He has no idea how in the world he would practice. Vil stated he should start by watching videos he sent, but what was with the smirk on the dorm leader’s face when Epel said he can watch videos in his room or literally anywhere else? 
“Stupid Vil,” Epel claims and doesn’t even notice music playing quietly in the ballroom he’s about to enter.
He opens the door, his gaze right on the floor even the second he closes the door, and the second he makes his way into the room, he suddenly screams.
“Woah,” Epel hears someone near him being surprised but somehow in a calm voice?
Epel shifts his gaze to what��or actually who—almost smashed him down to the floor, and gasps.
It’s you. You don’t seem really surprised, your lips parted just slightly, but… Hey, how did you manage to raise your leg so high?! Are you even human, like this flexibility is no joke at all! Epel notices your outfit and pointe shoes you’re wearing, and goes all awestruck and confused.
“Did you just,” he says, staring at you in shock. “Almost smashed me with your leg.”
“Yes,” you admit. “But thankfully I was quick on my reflexes to do a third arabesque just in time. How come you did not notice me?”
“Ergh, I was kinda lost in thoughts… But girl, you’re insane though. Never knew you could dodge so well just by dancing— Ah.”
You look at him in confusion when he gasps and suddenly laughs. So that was what Vil meant by smiling so suspiciously!! No wonder he told him to come here when you’re the one who dances. Who would have thought you can actually learn some helpful moves with a ballet out of all dances? 
Epel tells you about the whole plan Vil set for him, and when you agree to help, he shows you the video he sent and wonders why you're grinning so much.
“What’s the matter?”
“Have you not realized yet? It’s me. It’s my performance.”
“NO FREAKING WAY??”
Okay, he definitely underestimated ballet. And do you think he could actually accompany you one day?.. Well, at least you two may try fighting with all the pirouettes you want to teach him.
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© yunarim 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.
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kurisus · 4 months
Text
Noragami: Final Chapter thoughts
For the last time :') I've been making these for roughly half the manga's runtime, both in chapter count and years. Which is wild to think, but anyway, spoilers under the cut. One final time.
I really spent the first half of this chapter with bated breath alternating between being relieved that Hiyori is okay and grew up to be a doctor and everything, and stressed about where Yato was and where her memories were. Then Yato showed up, and I think I burst into tears out of hysterics. They really got me, I thought he was gone.
That aside, it was an excellent chapter. I was right when I said that this would just be an epilogue and the true suffering was over, but god. god. I'm relieved they gave me that open ending and the chapter was mostly good old-fashioned Noragami silliness. With the expected gut punches.
It's probably a good thing that Yuka never got to reunite with her brother, but at least knows that he's resting in peace. That he was given a proper burial by someone who, at the time, barely knew him but wanted to make things right anyway. Great now I'm crying again.
Hiyori's pocket with the little capyper keychain she bought forever ago. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.
Yato's CPR being so intense it cracked Hiyori's ribs. god he was so desperate to save her. WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.
HER TOUCHING HER LIPS WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
Fujisaki getting nostalgic seeing tall grass (as we know from the omake is called kaya) was weirdly touching. Though Father has faded, Kaya is the one that is still remembered. We never got to learn his real name, and while I am still curious about it, I can see the purpose--by not knowing his name, we the readers don't give him a lifeline.
That's not the only fourth wall lean in the final chapter. There was also Yato being able to save himself by becoming a meme, much like how the fandom and Adachitoka have memed on him for years as well.
Back to the chapter, it looks like Father's consciousness had always been lurking alongside Fujisaki's, maybe making him do things from time to time, which is really weird and creepy. Maybe he was dormant until the Yomi arc, but either way he's been doing this to a dozen other guys over the centuries. I'm glad the cycle was broken.
It's hilarious that Fujisaki tries to ask Hiyori out and she's just like haha not interested coo phone be upon ye.
I'm so glad the cherry blossom party has become an annual tradition with even more gods invited to the party. I'm also so glad that Yato refuses to release Kazuma and Bishamon apparently makes it a point to bully him about this whenever she sees him. But also, Kazuma doesn't seem to want to be released. He's just like yeah whatever man I'm glad you saved us. Cheers.
Side note, Kazuma's new glasses look a lot like the ones he was wearing in that 100 years ago flashback of him and Bishamon, around chapter 68 or 69 I think?
So we also get to see the aftermath of what happened to Yukine--he still transforms into a wolf every now and then, because much like how Nora transforms into a snakelike creature whenever she loses control of her emotions, his form is a wolf, and unlike Nora he's always been very emotional. So the nightmares come out and Yato's left with a giant wolf thrashing around in their shared living space lol, but at least his dad is there to hug him :')
WAIT STOP PAUSE EVERYTHING IT LOOKS LIKE THEY SHARE A BED NOW. I JUST COLLAPSED INTO A BALL.
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AUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH
The panel of Yato hugging him made me lose it again. THEY'RE SOOOOOOOO.
So we never did get to find out what happened to Yukine's father--but as I pointed out in the reread I did during December, I don't think it matters. Yukine wasn't going to exact revenge on him anyway because he's not the kind of person to do so.
The page of Nora reading Hiyori's diary also made me so sad. Hiyori's right--she probably did have parents who loved her, but she never got to meet them. One thing I noticed throughout this manga is shinki habitually chasing something relating to their pasts. Yukine craves a good relationship with a father figure, Kazuma is obsessed with Bishamon because he missed out on marrying a girl he loved, Daikoku acts like a dad to every child he meets because he died before having his own kids, and like Yukine, Hiiro craves the parental love she never had. And as Hiyori pointed out, being given a name by Father was like being given life.
Since we didn't get to see what became of her name situation, but Yukine still bears the Hagusa name, she must still have Mizuchi. If her master is gone, can she still draw borderlines? Does she hang around with Yato and Yukine still? Adachitoka didn't say Kofuku DIDN'T name her, so...
The way Hiyori remembered Yato because of his scent had me SOBBING, yall. She didn't forget, but she did solve her problem and it was solved by people, just like they've been saying throughout the manga. But now, they can be together again. Yato was away from her for some years, and maybe he'll leave for several more (it's been a repeated thing in the manga that he'll insist he has to stay away for her own good), but the point is that even if it's been years and years, she'll always remember him. It's open-ended, but that just means it can be my preferred ending of Hiyori not forgetting but choosing to distance herself. She'll meet up with Yato and Yukine every once in a while living her own, separate, fulfilling life. They've been watching over her all these years anyway.
And so, that brings us to the close. It's as happy an ending as we could have possibly gotten, and above all else, I'm relieved. I've been saying for...years, probably, that I want an open ending, but I really thought it was off the table with recent events.
Final hangups are the same as they were in my final reread (tagged under #Noragami reread on my blog), so I won't repeat them, but the bottom line is that I got everything I wanted out of this ending--except maybe a trio hug? But that interior illustration of the four of them, all smiling and happy, Yato's arm around his sister, made up for that. I kind of wish there was a Yatori kiss for real, but the panel of her touching her lips also assuaged that.
Anyway, I'm not sure what other manga would/will make me unhinged enough to type up monthly thoughts posts for years, but I'll be tuned in to whatever new Adachitoka has coming up. Whether it's a full series, a short series, or just a oneshot, I'll be reading every word. I'm also looking forward to getting the final volume once it releases here, and praying for an artbook announcement.
Thank you for reading! I have some posts to make, some projects to plan, and I'll be diving into the tag once more for old times' sake. This won't be the last of me!
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