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bonny-kookoo · 7 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 | Wake up call

Sometimes you only really cherish things when they're taken away from you.

Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Human!Reader, dystopian AU, space/Sci-fi/cyberpunk-esque, Enemies to lovers, Angst, Violence, Drama, romance, adult, angst, potentially triggering content, Hurt and comfort, JKs dad, major injury, angst, comfort, fluff

Length: 4.3k words

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It's pitch-black when you wake up, and it takes you a moment to realize that it's simply your eyes needing to adjust to the lack of light.

You instantly sit up in Jungkook's main resting spot, only to realize he's missing- instead standing at the main control screen, tapping away with his eyes reflecting the light of the screen in front of him. At a call of his name however, his face snaps towards you, the alien hybrid instantly walking towards you to cover your shoulders with a heavy blanket, before he sits down in the nest with you, clearly in a fight-or-flight state. "What's wrong?" You ask, and your sleepy voice and clearly drowsy state make him feel awfully protective over you-

and that's only partially due to his whole hormonal fiasco going on.

"We're passing a re-fueling station." He tells you, hushed and low in tone. "But the scanners show way too many ships in the area, so I'm trying to move us around." He offers as an explanation, unknowingly sitting closer to you, hands searching for any sort of physical contact with you before he just throws his pride out the window and moves to have you sit on his lap instead.

"Maybe it's just crowded?" You wonder, unsure why this is worrying him so much. But he shakes his head.

"Something's off." He simply denies, eyes focused on the large windows in the front of the ship, offering a wide view of whatever's going on in front and frontal sides- one of those windows being the one you're currently sleeping at. "I don't trust this." He shakes his head, arms slowly wrapping around you as he waits for the autopilot to steer the ship safely past the refueling station.

"Maybe it's.. you know?" You wonder, looking up at him- but he shakes his head.

"I'm.. I would've-" He sighs. "No one can really help me with my instincts because I am.. currently the only human-Bolku hybrid around, so not even Jin's mother can really.. help me understand what's going on with me." He shrugs, holding you in a relaxed, but almost clingy way. "I've simply decided to just.. take your words to heart, you could say." He tells you.

"What do you mean?" You ask, leaning into him a bit as the screen blinks with something- Jungkook looking once, before he puts his attention back onto you, apparently not alarmed by whatever message just popped up.

"You said the only life I can control is mine." He reminds you. "So I'll just.. let whatever I'm feeling run it's course, and learn to control my life instead of trying to just.. hiding in a vacuum." He explains, large ship coming into view in the distance, a few other's as well in close proximity. This catches Jungkook's attention, as he moves his body into a straighter position to properly catch a glance at the ID parts of the ships- required by law. It's typically a flag of the respective planet or organization, combined with a letter-number Identification, similar to a license plate back on earth.

And suddenly, Jungkook tenses up, eyes focused solely on one particular ship it seems like, as it passes by slowly. You're not sure what's wrong, when there's another warning tone, this time making Jungkook growl a little to himself as he gets up to walk towards the control console, tapping away.

He's scanning everything back and forth before he curses, slamming his hands onto the control board, jaw clenched, before he puts some different commands in, ship shifting, starting to steer in a very specific manner that makes the generators underneath your floor rumble in a new rhythm.

"I thought we were skipping this one?" You wonder, but Jungkook grimly shakes his head.

"We can't." He sighs. "I tend to forget that.. this ship is so old." He mumbles, clearly upset.

"It'll be fine." You try and reassure- and he looks at you for a good moment, before he grimly nods to himself.

Hoping that'll be the case.

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Jungkook is usually very much at ease when it comes to situations like these. He clearly knows his way around and is aware of how to act and what not to do in certain situations- year long experience giving him the necessary confidence to properly keep his job going.

But this time, he's on edge- never letting you out of sight, and even having checked multiple times before leaving the ship that the tracker on your new collar works perfectly just in case. He's also made you wear some of his clothes- says it's got something to do with other alien species' staying away from you if you smell like him, and in your eyes, it makes sense. Maybe his whole hormone-issue is just making him a little overprotective.

You understand that, somewhat. And you have to admit that his clothes are very comfortable to wear.

But something you also notice, for the first time, is what he's warned you about in your room, days ago. How everyone who knows his father will look at you with a certain sense of judgement- and this time, it seems like almost everyone seems to know him, because the looks are everywhere. It doesn't bother you too much- but you can feel with the way Jungkook's hand tightens around yours that it does affect him.

"Can we go eat something while the ship refuels?" You wonder, tugging on his hand to gain his attention, trying to pull his mind away from the admittedly tense atmosphere around you. He nods after a moment, nodding towards the employees currently attaching the giant tubes to the ship, before he walks away and towards the food section, numerous different small restaurants cooking quickly for customers sitting and standing close by.

"What do you want to eat?" He asks you, who's already scanning the pictures as best as you can- still not very good at deciphering the intergalactic standard writing. You should really learn it sooner rather than later- it's got to be annoying to read everything to you, after all.

"Uh.. can I eat this?" You ask him, pointing to a specific food covered in crispy fried dough- not because he pays for it, but because he also knows what humans can and can't eat.

Now this fact makes finally sense to you- because as someone who's partially human, Jungkook has to look out for certain foods as to not upset his stomach. For you, the consequences are much more severe, however, so he instead walks up to the counter to ask, just to make sure. The man behind, an alien with scars all over his face as if burned at some point, looks down at you, then at him, before he scoffs.

"She ain't gonna die from it." He says, but Jungkook is clearly not satisfied with an answer like that.

"I asked if it's safe to consume, not if she's gonna die from it." He challenges almost annoyed, a few close standing customers already clearly interested in the small scene.

"And I told you what I know. I don't usually have to feed 'em." The man replies, slamming down his large cleaver into the wooden counter in front of him, cutting a piece of meat in half.

"She can eat it just fine." A voice chimes up, deep and a little scratchy- and multiple things happen all at once.

First, people start to make room, averting their gazes as if an accident just occurred, and someone blasted their guts all over the place.

Almost at the same time, Jungkook pulls you close to him, shielding you in a way from whomever just talked behind you, body hiding you away like he needs to protect you from something.

And then, you poke your head around a little, catching a glimpse of the man.

He's clearly a Bolku with his tall build, even a good hand or two taller than Jungkook, body bulky and muscular, though the face shows the time this man has been alive. There's horns on his head curving backwards, and his eyes are what's the most prominent about him- small, halfway opened, but sharp in their gaze and a deep orange-y red, the color of pure confidence.

A shiver runs down your spine when you realize the small similarities you recognize however. This has to be Jungkook's father.

"Make two servings. I'll pay." The man orders, and the cook eagerly occupies himself with his job to flee the scene, quietly preparing the food. "Snatched a taste of human love, haven't you?" He laughs to himself, now having caught you peeking around Jungkook's arm, his eyes staring you down so much that you can feel your skin crawl.

"We're leaving." Jungkook mumbles to you over his shoulder, hand holding yours as his father chuckles lowly.

"Already? Your ship is barely halfway fueled." He says, sitting down at a table. "And the poor little thing must be hungry too. Aren't you?" He adresses you, but Jungkook hisses back towards you.

"Don't talk to him." He commands, and you nod, before you lean up towards him to speak closer into his ear.

"I'm not that hungry." You reassure him, and he nods, moving to walk away with you-

when suddenly, out of nowhere, someone tugs you away from Jungkook's hand, collar being pulled so roughly it causes you to violently cough from your throat being pushed together forcefully.

Jungkook shouts, but he's held back as well- whoever has you in their grip is bringing you closer to Jungkook's father, who inspects you from his sitting position. "Pretty thing." He comments, using his cane to tap at your thighs. "Healthy body. I wouldn't be able to resist either." He jokes, making who you assume to be his crewmembers laugh while you hold onto the front of your collar to help yourself breathe. "Ah, your mother needed one of those too. They always try and run off, don't they?" He comments, making Jungkook struggle.

You've never seen Jungkook's eyes shine in such a violent shade of red- almost as if his eyes are going to spout flames any second.

"I assume she's not for sale?" He wonders towards his son, who spits onto the ground right in front of his father's shoes, probably as a non-verbal answer. "Figured." The man says, pulling back his boot before he looks at you. "I'll be taking her anyways."

"She's registered under my name!" Jungkook argues. "I'll be sending out a patrol the minute you have to leave-" He argues, and his father laughs loudly.

"Your name means nothing in this system!" He barks back. "You have no worth, you bastard. Be happy I'll let you leave once your trash-pile of a ship is refueled." He warns.

You're starting to become tired fighting against the strong hold of whomever got their hands on you- causing your to breath harder and harder, oxygen not reaching your brain as well, causing you to become dizzy- and it's something Jungkook notices, because of course he does.

And another thing he realizes is that he knows you're in distress long before he spots the blinking red light of your collar, signaling something wrong with your vital signs.

And before you can do anything else, the edges of your eyesight begin to darken like a vignette filter, Jungkook's terrified gaze the only thing you can make out before you pass out, becoming limp in the hands of whoever is holding you.

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You're glaring at the man in front of you, refusing to eat anything that's offered.

He's already needed a large patch on his hand to cover up the aggressive bite you placed there hours prior after he tried to touch you- but he's intelligent enough to not try it again, it seems like. He thinks you're easy prey, probably- and that's what you used to be, and what you would've been if he'd been the one to find you back then.

But you belong to Jungkook- and Jungkook made you want to fight for your life, just to get back to him.

"Do you even know who he is?" The man in front of you speaks, trying to intimidate you with his gaze, but, for some reason you're not sure of, it doesn't work. "He'll abandon you the moment he finds a proper partner to mate with." He scoffs, and you just keep staring at him.

You don't believe anything this man is spewing- in fact, you're not even properly listening, rather trying to think hard of a way to escape this ship- entire layout foreign to you, since you didn't wake up until you were already on the ship. The only thing you know is that the entire interior intimidates you with it's perfect polished metal walls- something about Jungkook's old and somewhat worn down rooms and halls just makes you feel at home.

Or maybe it just feels like that because you fell in love on this ship.

So the minute you're left alone again after he insults you in Bolku language you don't understand, your brain is running at lightspeed.

Vents are out of reach, but maybe if you could push some of the furniture you could reach it- but someone might hear, and catch you in the act, making this whole plan incredibly dangerous. It's risk against reward after all- you're no use to anyone if you're dead. So you look around once more, checking out everything-

when you spot another vent, small but definitely in better reach than anything else. And the best thing is that once you're in there, there's no way anybody can reach out or crawl in behind you. The only issue?

You don't know where it leads. And from looking over Jungkook's shoulder at the general layout of his ship, you know that some vents lead straight into machines- and you're honestly not ready to be boiled alive.

Your decision however falls onto all or nothing- so you undo your collar at the emergency clip Jungkook had shown you, in case they're tracking you that way, before you crawl under the bed where the vent is, cover easy to remove as you crawl inside. It's tight, not much room and definitely not enough space to turn around now, as you move slowly, having left your shoes behind so that your socked feet don't make too much sound.

On the way, you can spot some vents you have to crawl over slowly, showing you numerous rooms of the ship. A kitchen, another prep room it looks like, multiple storage spaces, and then-

bright lights, clearly leading outside.

You crawl faster the moment you hear machines starting, finally able to see the drop-

and it's not only high up, but right next to a small engine that's clearly about to start if the radiating heat and slowly glowing metal were anything to go by. So either way- you're gonna get cooked alive, or you'll break your spine falling down.

You've got nothing to lose.

Safe to say you do end up cracking something- but the adrenaline is enough to push you through the pain, legs running faster than you ever thought you could as you make your way through the ship station, searching frantically for anything familiar so you can find your way back to Jungkook. If his father stayed true to his word, he would be allowed to leave- and you don't know how long you were out for, so you might already be too late.

Or would he wait for you?

You're searching around frantically when you can spot the familiar ship- large cargo door slowly closing, metal wall lifting, as you shout Jungkook's name as loud as you can- even though you just know he probably can't hear you.

You don't know how you manage even after tripping painfully so, but you reach the lifting cargo door just in time to jump up and lift yourself in-

when you feel warms in the back of your shoulder, something almost crawling down your back, the same feeling in another spot lower on your back, and in the back and front of your leg. It takes a good moment for you to slowly calm down, ship's door closing behind you, as the engines start, before you realize what's happening.

You've been shot by some sort of weapon, multiple times. And the feeling of something crawling, was simply your own blood.

It's ironic how you find yourself seeking at least some sort of warmth yet again under the blue plastic tarp- similar to how you first snuck onto this ship. But the tables have turned- and now, it seems like you'll find your end here too, between all the cargo and dust and by now familiar scents and sounds.

It could be worse.

Just like the first time, the large metal door hisses as it opens loudly, and once again just like the first time, you hear boots on the floor. But this time, you're not scared- this time you know who it is, and you find comfort in that.

Tarps are lifted. Cargo is inspected.

And then, the dark blue one you're hiding under is pulled back- but this time, he's not holding a gun, or a grim expression, or anything alike.

This time, he drops harshly to his knees as he pulls you close to him, holding you, uncaring of your blood staining his clothes.

This time, he wants you to stay.

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He's got you in his nest, while he steers the ship angrily, intercom blasting the sound of his father trying to get through his mind. But Jungkook is filled with nothing but rage and that need to finally break free from the shackles this man had put him in all his life.

"I saw her drop, kid." He laughs. "Stop trying to chase ghosts, you'll kill yourself too trying to move that thing any faster!" He jokes, spits at the old ship Jungkook has owned for years now. But what he doesn't know, is that sometimes, newer isn't better. Because this is a ship build during the third interstellar war-

this thing is meant to last.

And withstand.

So Jungkook lifts his face, eyes locking with the one's of his father moments before he lets it happen-

ramming right into the smaller jet ship painted white, causing sure damage to his own ship- but it's clear that whatever happened to his own, is nothing compared to the large gashes and dents in the exterior, communication cutting off as he watches the smaller white ship slowly lose engine after engine, fuel leaking without any gravity into the galaxy, fires burning out, until everything is quiet-

the wreck left behind him, just like his past.

Jungkook doesn't even check if the autopilot is really properly working- he only cares for you now, who's still breathing shallowly in the nest he slept in with you before, bandages already letting your blood seep through. He's not trained enough in human health to properly help you- he's unequipped as well, which just makes this all the more worse.

He can't help you. No matter how bad he wants to.

All he can do is wipe the sweat off your forehead before he holds you close again, curling up around your body, trying to hide you away from everything. When he heard you call, it felt odd- like a sound only in his thoughts, not clear, but definitely present. He didn't know at first what had happened- only when the security check signed to him that something was wrong in the cargo room down in the bowel of the spaceship did he check-

finding you yet again, just like the first time.

But this time, he's holding you in fear. He's not sure if he can even do anything if he reaches a destination- human health is something not everyone has enough knowledge in, and even if that's the case, the chances of finding a still practicing doctor for you are slim to none at the moment.

It's so horribly unfair.

He finally accepted not only himself but you- and now he's gonna have to watch you leave after all, the world taking yet another thing away from him, as if his childhood and adolescence wasn't enough. No- apparently his future is on the menu next, to be devoured with every breath you struggle to take.

The intercom rings, and Jungkook doesn't care for it- simply swipes his hand over the panel near the window to accept it, Yoongis surprised voice ringing out- tone changing quickly as he notices the blurred scene of Jungkook and you in the corner, transmission a little choppy due to the damage to the ship.

"I received an emergency signal- are you there?" He asks with urgency, and Jungkook just hums a reply. "Jungkook, what happened?" He worries, ship slowly coming into view of the large side windows, light blue paint flaking off the metal casing of the small ship.

"We ran into him." Jungkook mumbles, running his hand over your head in a soft manner, relishing in your warmth for as long as it's there. "He tried to take her- she snuck out.. got in last minute." He explains. Yoongi exhales a breath.

"Thank god-" He starts, but Jungkook wasn't finished.

"They shot her." He hums, voice emotionless, eyes a pale grey. "Now she's dying." He chuckles softly, looking down at you- you look like you're merely sleeping, resting against his body. "He's taking everything from me even past his lifetime." He scoffs.

"I'm tugging your ship to the nearest outpost- it's Aon, we should make it in less than half an hour max." Yoongi urges, saying something to what Jungkook assumes must be his human partner. "We have medical supplies on board. Is she still bleeding?"

No answer. Jungkook fails to see the point of one.

"Jungkook!" Yoongi barks. "Did you at least wrap her wounds? Anything?" He tries to find out, but the Bolku hybrid stays quiet- too mesmerized by sight of your eyes moving behind your closed lids. Your lashes are long. Soft. How come he's never noticed that? "Jungkook you gotta give me something to work with!" Yoongi whines almost, successfully connecting to Jungkook's autopilot, initiating the system to follow Yoongi's ship that's not in front.

Jungkook sighs. "I wrapped her up.. the best I can." He shrugs. "Now I'm letting her sleep."

Yoongi sighs. "What was she even shot with?" He wants to know, but Jungkook doesn't know. "Alright, I guess that's the only info I'll get out of you at this point." He mumbles to himself, before he cuts the intercom for the moment, quietly leading the ship to Aon- a small outpost set on a large meteorite, meant for simple refueling of smaller ships and temporary stay for some stranded people who didn't make it to the next bigger planet.

It's not much- but it'll do.

The only problem arises when Yoongi enters the ship and wants to look at you together with a doctor he'd found on Aon- because Jungkook just won't let anybody close to you, mind having slipped entirely now in the prospect of you being in such distress. It takes several people to remove the rather feral human hybrid from you, his eyes basically scanning every little move anyone makes as they check on you, everyone's nerves slowly relaxing. "Humans are truly odd in those things." Someone says, as he uses all four of his arms to properly put some bandages and patches onto your wounds. "They just sleep it off it seems like." He laughs, finishing up the patch on your back before he leaves you alone- and nods to the people holding Jungkook to let him go.

He immediately rushes back to you, tugging you closer, holding you tightly as you whine a bit in complain in your sleep, turning over to properly hold onto him as well.

"She'll be fine." Yoongi reassures, much to Jungkook's eyes turning round with wonder at that promise. "Humans are.. weird when it comes to ion guns." He shrugs. "It's just mostly tissue damage, some scratches here and there- but she'll literally sleep it off, like he said. She'll be fine- she just needs rest." He offers, causing a reaction he's not seen in years from the younger alien.

He cries, bitterly so-

but this time, it's tears of relief and happiness.

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"No no no no- come here." He scolds, pulling you close again to have you sit down on his lap at the main control console.

Jungkook is not letting you do anything whatsoever, even though your wounds are healing well. He's also become, while still moody as ever, incredibly touchy. As if that scare had flipped a switch and showed him how quickly you could be taken away from him again, it seems like he's decided that there's really no reason anymore to take things slow or be afraid of anything.

"Hey Jungkook?" You wonder, leaning your head back against his shoulder to look at him. He hums, not looking away from the control screen in front of him, and you giggle, still a little sleepy and low on energy due to all the medication you're taking. "I like you." You say, and this time, he chuckles-

turning his head to press a kiss against your cheek-

because he finally understands what you're trying to tell him.

He finally gets it.

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#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #alien jungkook #alien!jungkook

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producedbyhanjisung · 5 months

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⎯ ALL MINE. christopher bahng chan

🎧 : christopher bahng x female reader

TROPE. alien chan au, friends to lovers au, eventual smut, minors dni

WORD COUNT. 5.9k

WARNINGS. mentions of war, mentions of aliens

SYNOPSIS. when chan crash-lands on earth after running headfirst into the international space station, he has no choice but to follow the mysterious girl from earth who offers him exactly what he needs - a place to sleep, food to eat, and a pair lips that were practically a dream on their own. chan finds that he is fantasizing about you more and more, until finally, he snaps.

SMUT WARNINGS. nipple play (female receiving), hickeys, making out, tentacle play, corruption kink, spit kink, blindfolding, dom!chan, sub!reader, bulge kink, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex

If you were anything, you were smart. Street smart, book smart - a combination of the two.

Any smart person knows not to run towards an explosion. Any smart person knows not to run toward an explosion that came from a ship. Any smart person knows not to run towards an explosion that came from a ship that came from the sky.

And yet, that's exactly what you were doing.

What if someone was hurt? What if there weren't even people on board?

Thoughts ricocheted through your head as you ran, but you didn't react to any of them. The only thing in your mind was getting to that sleek silver work of aerospace art that had collapsed onto the property of you and your college roommate’s newly purchased farmhouse.

When you arrived at the crash site, it was burning. But not regular flames - these were purple. Tendrils of violet and lavender reached up to the sky, grasping for the sky, never to reach.

You froze, watching someone stumble out of the wreck, coughing and dusted in a layer of dark ash. "Fuck!" They yelled, turning and kicking the ship, not minding the fire. "Fucking fuckity fuck!"

You weren't sure what to do. Should you approach the guy, or should you hide and watch from a distance, until you knew he wasn't a threat? What would a smart person do . . .

Thankfully, you didn't have to think that hard. The person turned, catching a glimpse of you through the trees.

"Hello?" he called - you could see he looked more masculine now, but you couldn't make out the details of his face or clothes.

"Is that yours?" you ask, dumbfounded.

"What do you think?" he snapped. He had an accent - vaguely Australian sounding, but not quite. His voice was deep and full, and sent a corkscrew of warmth down your spine.

"Well I'd assume so, but people out here have been getting wild lately."

The man shook his head, groaning and pressing his face into his hands.

"What's your name?" you call after a moment of watching him mentally decompose.

He doesn't answer for a minute. Then, "Chan." It's muffled through his fingers, but you hear it. "Bang Chan." Then he looks up, eyes meeting yours. "Yours?"

"Y/N."

"Pretty."

Silence again.

"How'd your ship crash anyways?"

Chan shakes his head. "Your fucking International Space Station."

You pause. "What?"

"The International Space Station - you know what that is right?"

"Obviously. You said your. As if it's not yours too. It's international." You suppose a smart person would have caught on by now, and you slowly were. But you don't want to admit it - it's impossible, isn't it?

"Y/N, darling, I'm not from Earth so therefore the word 'international' does not apply to me, so yes, I meant your stupid fucking space station took out my stupid fucking spaceship."

You stare at him, mouth hanging open. It's only when a little bit of drool threatened to slip out that you close it. "You mean you're-"

"An alien~ wooooooo." He turned towards me on the "woo", half-heartedly making an impression of a ghost from a shitty 80s horror movie. "Scared?"

You just blink. "Not scared . . . maybe a little confused?"

"Why?"

"If you wanted to hurt me you would have done it already."

Chan is crossing to you now, tilting his head as he stops a few feet from you. "How do you know I won't hurt you? My species loves feasting on humans. How do you know I'm not saving you for later?"

"Maybe you are. Later is later, whatever. I have so many questions."

Chan pretends to pout. "I don't really wanna answer them."

"Can I have three?" You pretend to pout back, rolling your eyes.

He nods, waving me on.

"Why Earth?"

"Just what I was passing by."

"Where are you from?"

"A planet called Levanter. On the planet, I'm from District 9."

You take in the information, calculating your final question. "Are you really gonna eat me?"

Chan laughs. "No, of course not. That would be bad etiquette."

You smile a little as he turns away. "Levanter is where you're from?"

He hums in response, nodding. "Levanter is an ugly planet. You wouldn't like it."

"What makes you think that?"

"It's dying. All black rocks and lava and women with no teeth."

"What?"

He frowns. "Levanter's dying, and its people are too. Everyone is as ugly as the planet."

Before you can bite your tongue, you blurt out, "You're not ugly."

Chan scoffs. "Please. By standards on Levanter, I'm purely average. I have this friend named Hyunjin-" He pauses, as if checking the amount of information he gives you. "Anyway. I have to fix my ship now. So if you could-"

"I have space. Where you could fix it. And tools." You can't help but want to know more about this mysterious world of Levanter, and Chan's home of District 9. You also don't want to leave the strange alien-man wandering around in the woods near your house - you'd rather be able to keep an eye on him, especially since your new neighbors are nosy. You're sure that the people of your town wouldn't take Chan's arrival on Earth as well as you had. "And food," you add. "You eat, right?"

"Everything eats, Y/N."

"So will you come with me? It's getting late." You motion at the sinking sun, which has just begun to dip below the horizon, casting a beautiful light show of crimson, gold, and vermillion across the atmosphere. "We can leave your ship here, if it makes you feel better. We can get it tomorrow morning. No one ever comes out here."

"You came out here."

I sigh. "I saw your ship crash. Seeing as no one else is here, I'm assuming I was the only one. Plus, you need to get your wounds treated. That doesn't look too good." You motion to a gash on his shoulder, exposed where his suit had torn. It looks fresh, and you gather that it was from the crash.

Chan pauses, thinking for a minute, then nods. "We'll leave the ship here, and bring it to your safe place tomorrow. Right?"

"Right. Is that okay?"

He nods again, starting to follow you as you turn on your heels.

It's a fifteen minute walk back to your small farmhouse, shared with Mina, your roommate, who texted you the day before that she was staying in the city with her boyfriend for the week.

"No one else is home," you explain to him as you push open the door. The city you attended college was only an hour from the seemingly-middle-of-nowhere location you and Mina had chosen to stay over the summer, which meant she could visit her boyfriend, who had bought an apartment on campus.

"You live with someone else?"

You nod. "Her name's Mina. She won't be home for a few days though. How long will it take for you to get your ship back up and running?"

"A week, maybe two?"

You cough. "Two weeks?"

He shrugs. "I didn't look at the damage at all. I just followed you. I won't really have a good idea until I look tomorrow."

You stare out the window, eyes focused on your old Land Rover in the driveway. "Okay."

"Do you have anything to eat? I'm really hungry," Chan says, laughing a little. "I had plenty of food on the ship, but I'm guessing it might be a little burnt right now."

“Maybe just a little,” you agree. “What kind of food do people on Levanter eat?”

He shrugs. “I like Nilla wafers.”

“What?”

“Those come from Earth, don’t they? Nilla wafers. Do you have any?”

You shake your head slowly. “I could run out and get some, if you’d like.” You’re baffled. Here’s this strange alien-man with an Australianish and who you can see has at least three knives on him currently, and here he is asking for Nilla wafers. “You’re a silly dude, Chan.”

He shrugs.

“Do you really want Nilla wafers?”

Another shrug.

“Do you want me to go get you some? It’ll probably take me around a half an hour.”

Yet another shrug. You glare at Chan, who gives you a half-hearted thumbs up.

“You’re so . . .”

“Infuriating?”

“Human,” you finish, staring at him.

“Humans descend from people on Levanter. We migrated here long ago - when we first found out our planet was dying. The lucky ones escaped to here - paradise. The unfortunate were left to die on Levanter.”

You stare at him. “Then how come people don’t know about Levanter here? Or that there are other beings in space?”

Chan sighs. “They wanted a fresh start here. The ships dropped them off ass naked and freezing to the bone. That’s what you call Neanderthals, right? Memories fade over time, and over millennia, I guess it’s easy to forget about what you don’t want to remember.”

You stare at him. “So Earth has this big crazy lore and no one even knows about it? What the fuck?”

Chan nods. “I know it sounds crazy. You don’t have to believe me.”

And yet, you trust him. You believe that Chan is telling the truth.

The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, letting the new world of information sink into your mind. It’s hard to wrap your head around, and even harder to realize that you’re probably the only Earth-born person alive to know about the existence of Levanter and entities beyond Earth. And here, one of them is sitting in your kitchen, drinking chocolate milk out of a bright blue sippy cup.

Finally, you clap your hands together, startling Chan. “Okay. Should we go to the store?”

“Like a grocery store? For what?”

“Nilla wafers, dummy.”

—————————————————————————

Eight days after Chan landed on Earth, it feels like you’ve lived together for an eternity. Like he’s a regular human guy, who goes to college with you - maybe he majors in something dumb like English.

He works on his ship during the day, and you visit him, working on summer homework in the back corner of the barn, listening to him tell stories about Levanter and his family, and his dog Berry (dogs were also apparently Levanter-delivered to Earth, because humans were too incompetent to survive on their own).

He’s moved on from his short-lived obsession with Nilla wafers, moving onto the strange discovery of sprinkles, which he now keeps a tin of in his back pocket. The first day he was here, you went out and thrifted a bunch of clothes for him that weren’t a space suit, since most of his burnt up in the crash. He liked the baggy jeans and knit sweaters you brought back for him, saying that if you ever needed to borrow one, he'd be happy to lend it to you.

You're curled up in one of his sweatshirts currently, sitting on a hay bale in the barn, watching Chan as he works on his ship. The night breeze tickles what little skin you have exposed, and you shiver under the mint-green layer. It smells like him, you note. Something homely but unfamiliar to you, although it felt like you should know it. The scent gives you heavy eyelids.

"'S fucking hot in here," Chan mutters, turning around to look at you.

You shiver in response, shaking your head. "I don't know how you're hot."

"Are you cold? Come here." Chan opens his arms as he waddles toward you, wrapping his body around yours in a warm hug. He looks down at you. "Should we call it a night? I need to let a few things sit in there."

You nod sleepily, letting him gently tug you to your feet.

"Tired too?" Chan asks. He tsks. "Y/N, why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I wanted to sit with you. I like your stories," you mumble.

"Of Levanter?"

"Your sister, your dog. Your music."

In the short while you've known Chan, you've discovered lots about him. He produces music on Levanter, and was a part of a music group before he and the rest of his band enlisted in the military. He has a dog, a sister, a brother, and two great parents. He and his friend Felix were both pilots in the military of District 9, which was at war with District 16. He and Felix had been on a deep space mission when they were struck by a meteor storm, and Chan was blown off course. He ran straight into Earth's International Space Station, and landed in your backyard.

And that's how he ended up here, with you peacefully sleeping beside him on the couch of your living room. He couldn't help but watch you. Your lips were parted slightly, eyes flitting back and forth beneath your lids, chest rising and falling with your gentle breathing.

How can someone be so beautiful? he thought. Sure, women on Levanter were usually not too pretty - but even compared to the other Earth-born women he had seen on TV and such, you were like a goddess. Chan found himself wanting to drop to his knees every time you entered the room, and treat you exactly how a goddess should be treated.

Yesterday, he had awoken in a cold sweat after having a dream exactly like that. He was on his knees in front of you, lips trailing up and down the insides of your thighs while you fell apart above him. Such pretty sounds dream you had made.

Chan shakes off the memory. He's only known you for eight days, how is he having thoughts like this? And yet he can't shake the image of your pretty eyes watching him, hooded, and your lips parted for a completely different reason. He wondered what you taste like. Sweet, he finally decides. Like raspberries.

He watches you for a while longer, ignoring the quiet noise of the television in the background. Finally, when he decides you won't be waking up any time soon, he walks quietly over to you and scoops you into his arms, bridal style.

You stir a little as he lifts you, and mumble into his chest, "Fucking chinchillas." He wonders what you could possibly be dreaming about that you're having an argument with chinchillas.

Chan's careful as he goes up the stairs, making sure not to trip over the crooked sixth step. When he gets to your room, he carefully lies you in your bed, pulling your blanket up over you after he did so.

He turns toward your closet, where his small repertoire of Earthy clothes are sitting on one of your abandoned shelves. Softly, he changes his clothes into pajamas, opting to put on a pair of black and white plaid pajama pants and leaving his shirt off. When he steps out of your closet, you're still fast asleep, facing the opposite wall.

He leaves your room quietly, making his way down the hall to your roommate, Mina's room. You told him a few days ago that Mina was staying with her boyfriend in the city nearby for a little bit, so he didn't have to worry about sleeping in her bed or intruding on her space. You assured him that he should make himself at home, but he still got a little nervous every time he walked in the room, feeling out of place.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, sighing, and tapping his intercom face. Though the screen was damaged, he had kept it on his wrist since he had arrived on Earth. The screen remained dark, and he tapped it again, twice this time.

Suddenly, there was a holographic image of Felix standing in front of him. The hologram was shaky and out of focus, but it was definitely Felix - what other soldier with an intercom had bright blue hair and wore a sweater vest?

"Chan?" Felix asked. "Where . . . disappeared . . . went home . . . sorry . . . are you?"

"You're cutting out," Chan said, standing. "Felix, wait, say that again, you're-"

"Come . . . invasion . . . soldiers . . . pick up . . . weeks . . ."

"You keep cutting out." Chan's voice was raising. Stupid fucking broken intercom. Suddenly, the communication cut out entirely, and Chan was once again left in silence in the strange room.

—————————————————————————

You were screaming. That's all you could register as you sat up straight in your bed, breathing heavily.

Chan's in your room in a heartbeat. He's shirtless, wearing a pair of pajama pants you remember buying for him. "Y/N? Y/N! Hey, what happened?" He's in front of you now, hands on your shoulders and face inches from yours, searching your features in a frenzy.

And now you're crying. You can't even remember what you were dreaming about anymore. Just the fact that Chan had sprinted from his room to yours in a matter of seconds just to make sure you were okay is enough to make you cry. You're so cool, Y/N. You roll your eyes at yourself mentally.

Chan pauses awkwardly in front of you as you bury your face in your plush blanket. "What the fuck?" you manage to say, wiping your tears as you look back up at him.

"Are you okay?" he asks gently.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay."

"Okay. Breathe with me, okay? In . . . eight, seven six . . . out . . . four, five, six . . ."

You realize he's doing Box Breathing with you, a military technique for staying calm. Moments like this, seeing him so humanly, you forget he's a soldier - and one not even of this world. You forget he's killed, and injured, and committed heinous crimes against other beings.

"See? Everything's fine." Chan reaches out, taking your hand in his. You look down, caught off guard, and take in how veiny his hands are, how nimble and long his pretty fingers look. "Just breathing. Yeah?"

You look back up at his face. "Thank you."

"Yeah, of course."

The two of you sit in silence for a moment.

"Can you stay with me?" you ask quietly. "In case that . . . happens again."

Chan nods. "Do you want me on the floor?"

You shake your head. "You can stay in my bed. It's the least I can do, if you're gonna stay in here."

He gives you a small smile, dimples extra deep-looking in the moonlight.

You move over, closer to the wall your bed is pushed against, and let Chan get in next to you.

He slides softly under the covers, and you feel his arm touching yours as the two of you look up at the ceiling.

"Do you miss Levanter?" you ask him quietly.

Chan is silent for a minute. Then, "No."

"No?" You turn over to face him, propping your head up on your elbow and curling your knees to your chest. The room is dark, but you catch a glimpse of his eyes raking up and down your legs.

He turns too. "Y/N, you don't know what it's like to be a soldier on a dying planet. Riots, homicides, bombings . . . they're everyday things no matter where you are on the planet. Here it's . . ." he pauses, looking for the word. "This is the safest I've ever felt, actually."

You stare at him, overcome with emotion. You can't even begin to imagine the traumatic events he's witnessed, the countless lives he himself has had to take, the amount of people he's watched the life seep away from.

"Look." Chan sits up, turning away from you so that his bare back is in front of you. You try to ignore the way his muscles ripple as he moves, the way they flex tenderly beneath the skin. "Can you see?" You nod, taking in what's on top of the muscles. Scars. Tons of them, big and small, twisting across the canvas of flesh on his back.

"You have so many scars," you murmur, slowly reaching out to touch one right below his left shoulder blade.

He hisses quietly, wincing away gingerly. It's an inhumane sound, one that a snake might produce, and you're reminded that Chan isn't actually a human. Humans may have evolved from his species, but you have no idea of his anatomy and physiology - you can only assume it's similar to yours. "That's war, love."

Love. You try not to shiver at the unexpected pet name. "I'm sorry."

He looks at you over his shoulder. "Why are you sorry?"

"That this happened. That your planet is like this. That-"

"Stop." Chan's hand is covering your mouth. "You shouldn't be sorry. Let's not talk about this any more."

You nod.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You glance over at him.

"Is it weird if I ask to kiss you?"

Your heart is pounding out of your chest, threatening to jump out and give Chan a big old smooch itself.

"I-no. It's not weird. Why though?"

He shrugs. "Wanna see if Earth people do it differently."

You stare at him. "Do you think we do?"

"There's only one way to find out." His lips are on yours. They're big, plush, soft against yours, groping desperately for a hold on your mouth. He's a fantastic kisser, pausing to bite your lip gently and pull it towards him. He lets go, and his lips are back on you in a moment, soothing the pain.

When he pulls away, he swears he's never seen a prettier sight. The neck of your sweater is pulled down, exposing your bare shoulder, and your lips are swollen and red. You're looking up at Chan through hooded eyes, trying to guess his next move.

Chan moves closer to you, gently pushing you down against the pillows. Not with either of his hands, you realize as he hovers over you, because they're both supporting his weight on either side of your head. You look down, seeing a flash of purple disappear behind Chan's back.

"What was that?" you ask him.

"What was what?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." You jerk your head at his hands.

Chan sighs. "I thought you might get scared, but I got carried away. I won't bring it out again. I'm sorry."

"Don't fucking apologize. Can I see it?"

"What?"

"Can I see your weird tentacle thing?"

His weird tentacle thing pokes up over his shoulder, slithering through the air towards you. You reach out, brushing your nails over it, and Chan shivers, grabbing your wrist. "Don't."

"Why not?"

"Please don't."

"Why?"

"It . . ." Chan pauses. "It feels good."

You raise your eyebrows. "What do you mean?" You reach for it again, this time with your other hand, but his other hand shoots out to grab you.

"Y/N." His eyes are dark, watching you carefully. "Don't."

"What'll happen if I do?"

"God, Y/N." Chan is standing now, pacing around the room, his tentacle trailing in a wave pattern behind him.

"What's the big deal?" you ask. "If it feels good, why can't I touch it?"

"Because," Chan says, "once it starts I don't know if I'll be able to stop." He kneels next to your bed, looking up at you pleadingly. "I don't want to hurt you."

You bring your face closer to his, tilting your head and breathing in his sweet scent. "What if I don't want you to be able to stop? Who says people from Levanter don't fuck the same way people from Earth do?"

Chan snaps. In one motion, he's pulled you from your bed, tangled in blankets, and has you pressed into the fluffy fabric of your rug. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into," he says softly, voice deep.

"I have a pretty good idea. Plus, it's good experimentation, right?"

Chan grins, face moving closer to yours. You lean up to kiss him, but you feel something pinning you down - his tentacle, you realize.

"Not so quick, pretty."

You barely register the fact that his tentacle is taking off your shirt. All you can think of is that Chan called you pretty.

"Take your time," he chides, tracing his fingers slowly, teasingly up your bare abdomen.

"Are you kidding?"

His lips move down to yours, smile pressing against your mouth. "I'm dead serious."

You giggle a little, but are quieted quickly when his tentacle taps lightly against your hip, then traces itself towards your core. Chan leans back to look at you - half dressed, lips puffy, eyes lidded, chest heaving already. "You're perfect," he mumbles, leaning down to kiss right under your bra. He slides the fingers of his right hand up to your bra as well, sneaking them under your bra to roll your nipple between them. You gasp a little at the contact, and he looks up at you, grinning. "You like that?"

You nod quickly, and he squeezes your nipple a little, pushing your bra up at the same time so he can watch it. He stares, almost fascinated, as he tweaks and pulls and rubs your nipple. At one particularly harsh tug, you moan out quietly.

"That's so fuckin' hot," Chan mumbles, moving up so that he can lick your nipple. He runs his tongue harshly around it, seemingly trying to bury itself in the little hole in the center. Then he wraps his beautiful lips around it and sucks in, breathing in deeply as though it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. "You're divine, love," he mumbles around your tit.

You feel his tentacle tracing your neck, slowly wrapping around it. "Chan," you say quickly, a little panicked.

"Sh, sh." His hand reaches up to cover your mouth, his own lips still hanging loosely on your nipple. "It's okay." As if reading your fears straight out of your mind, he adds, "I have complete control over it. It's not trying to kill you. Is this okay, or do you want me to stop?"

"Don't you fucking dare stop."

He chuckles against your skin, letting his tentacle fully wrap around your throat. It squeezes a tiny bit, and you gasp at the feeling, your hips bucking up towards Chan. He tsks, tilting his head up at you and unlatching his mouth from your tit.

"Chan," you mumble, "Need more."

"More? More how? Show me."

You take his hand, watching him with hooded eyes, and pull it down to your core. The moment he comes in contact with you over your shorts you shiver.

"You're so sensitive," Chan says, lips turned up in a half smile as he watches you.

"Are you not?" You wrap your hands around part of the tentacle around your throat, testing the waters by stroking it a little, and his eyes roll back in his head, his entire body convulsing over you.

"Holy fuck," you say. "Chan, did you just-"

"No! No. No. I'm not- no."

You sit up, eyes widening. "Channie, did you really-"

His hand covers your mouth. "I didn't cum if that's what you're asking. I just wasn't expecting it."

"Are you sure? 'Cause you look like you just descended into heaven and came back down a changed man."

Chan scoffs. "I did not descend into heaven."

You pump his tentacle again, and he doubles over, face pressed into your neck, a low groan tearing from his throat. "That's so fuckin' hot," you mumble.

Then, Chan is up again, pushing you once again back down into your pillows, this time using his tentacle to pin both hands above your head. "No touching, now," he says lowly.

You bite your tongue as he takes hold of your chin, turning your head so he can examine you. "Such a pretty little thing. I wanna ruin you."

You've never been more turned on in your entire life.

"Open," he says, one finger tapping your lips twice. You open your mouth obediently, and Chan leans forward. He opens his mouth, and a glowing blue liquid drips from his mouth into yours. He just spit in my mouth, you realize.

"Now you're mine." Chan watches as you swirl the spit around in your mouth. "All mine."

You hardly have time to ask what he means before his lips are on you again. You break the kiss away, looking up at Chan. "Fuck me. Rail me. Whatever you wanna fucking do- I need more."

He smiles. "Your wish is my command. But first . . ." He stands up next to your bed, his tentacle still holding your arms in place over your head, and pulls off his pajama pants, leaving him bare except for a pair of Calvin Klein boxers. He pauses in front of you, lips parted. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes." It's the fastest you've ever answered a question, you think.

He nods, taking his pant leg and draping it over your eyes. "Lift your head," he says. You do as he says, and feel him tie it in the back. You're blindfolded, your sense of sight blocked by a pair of black and white pajama pants. The pants smell good, you realize. Like rosewater.

Meanwhile, Chan pauses above you, one leg on either side of your hips. He looks down at your still form, arms draped above your head, eyes covered, stomach inflating and deflating with every breath you take. "Let's get rid of these first," he mumbles, pulling off your shorts. He watches as goosebumps spread along your body, the act foreign to him.

He runs his finger over your panties experimentally, and your hips jerk up into his palm, searching for friction. "Woah, woah. Needy, needy."

"Wasn't expecting it," you say softly.

Chan moves down so that his face is level with your core, pressing a gentle kiss over the fabric of your underwear. You squirm a little, and he moves his palm to press flat against your pelvis, holding you in place.

Gently, he hooks one finger under your panties and pulls them down off you. His eyes stay completely attached to your glistening cunt, watching for any little movement you make. Then, slowly, he leans forward to kiss it.

You moan the moment his lips touch you, wrapping around your clit. "Fuck," you breathe out, hands grasping tightly onto each other, still rendered useless by Chan's tentacle.

Chan looks up, gouging your reaction to his movements. You cum once, twice, three times on his tongue before you're using your legs to shove him away, the alien completely pussy-drunk.

His boxers are off and he's inside you before you can even ask him for it. Chan knows he's purely average-sized on Levanter, but here, on Earth, he has a monster cock. When he bottoms out inside you, listening to your pretty sounds and the way your face contorts so delightfully, he can already see the shadow of his cock bulging through your stomach. He runs his hand over it, pressing a little where it's most prominent, and you throw your head back. "Look at this, pretty girl." Chan reaches up to take your chin again, tilting your head so you can see the bulge. "So beautiful," he mumbles to himself, shallowly thrusting.

As his thrusts get faster, deeper, harder, he leans forward, kissing you, but in the overwhelming pleasure neither Chan nor you can keep your lips attached, mouths parted open instead as you near your highs.

"Chan, Chan, I'm gonna cum," you say. "Chan-" Then you're shaking violently, entire body tensed and head thrown back as an almost animalistic noise rips out of your throat.

Your walls squeeze tight around Chan, and his lips drop to press against your shoulder, muffling his groans as he thrusts one last time, much harder into you, and cum spurts out of him, coating the inside of you.

The two of you lie in silence for a few minutes, before Chan rolls off you and gets out of bed. "Where are you going?" you call after him, but he doesn't respond.

You sulk back into your sheets, annoyed. Twenty minutes later, the pretty alien returns wearing a new pair of pajama pants, and carrying with him a wet washcloth, bowl of ramen, and bottle of water.

"Chan . . ." you say quietly.

He sits down next to you, surveying your body. His cum is dripping out of you - shimmering blue. "Are you tired?" he asks.

You shake your head. "Wanna talk to you."

He smiles. "You eat and drink. I'll clean you up, and then we can talk, okay?"

You stare at him for a moment as he hands you the bowl of ramen and water, wondering how he could possibly be real. That pretty smile with those gorgeous dimples, on the same body as those perfect abs and massive dick - not to mention the fact that twenty minutes ago, he was railing you into your next life, and now he's sitting in front of you like he's your babysitter.

"I looked up a phrase, while I was making this," Chan mumbles as he runs the washcloth of your center, wiping up his cum off you and cleaning you up. "A word, actually." He folds the washcloth over so his cum is stuck inside and deposits it gently by your door, then returns to hand you what you can only imagine is one of the sweaters you got for him, since it's not one of yours. He goes to your closet, and gets out a fresh pair of panties. You reach to take them from him, but he shakes his head, sliding them onto your legs and up until your thighs. "Hips up, sweetheart," he says, concentrated. You do as he asks, and he finishes putting your panties back on.

"What word?" you ask, watching him crawl back over you to get into bed.

"L-O-V-E. How do you say it?"

"Love." You look over at him. "You don't know that word?"

He shakes his head. "It's not something we have a name for on Levanter. I guess people there tend to not care as much. I like the word though."

"Why did you want to know it?"

"Because I think it applies here. To me, at least. For you."

You turn over to face Chan. "What do you mean?"

"I love you." You can tell he's blushing, and you giggle when he asks, "That's how you say it, right?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Okay. Yeah. Good. I mean, Y/N, I know I've only been here for, what, two weeks? But, I don't know. Everyday I just . . . I want to spend more time with you. And get to know you, and make you food, and give you kisses, and, I don't know, raise kids with you, and buy a house together. Never go back to Levanter. I want to just . . . stay here."

You want to cry, all of a sudden. "You wanna stay here? On Earth?"

Chan takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and rubbing his thumb over your own. "Yeah. If you'd have me, I think."

"Chan, what about your parents, your sister? Your friends? Felix?."

He looks down. "Felix is coming to find me. I'll have a chance to say goodbye. Y/N, nothing is honestly that important to me but you right now."

You quiet your voice, and ask again, "You really want to stay on Earth?"

"Yes. But, look, that doesn't mean we have to stay. There's a whole world out there, love. We could always visit Levanter - or if you didn't want to go I could go by myself."

"Your ship is still broken though."

Chan's eyes are glued to your wall.

"Right?"

"My ship has been fixed for three days," he mumbles. "I just . . . didn't want to leave. Like I said, I think I'm in love with you."

"I love you too, Chan."

The two of you sit in silence for a little longer, and you nestle close to Chan, tucking yourself into his chest as his arms wrap around you.

"So," you ask, looking up at him. "Do people on Earth kiss differently than people on Levanter?"

282 notes · View notes

talenlee · 11 months

Text

Hanamusa, Explained

There is a nonzero chance if you follow me on tumblr, you’ve seen the term ‘Hanamusa’ attached to something I shared. It’s probably also some super cute art of Delia Ketchum and Jessie Teamrocket, and you may wonder what is going on and also, why is there so much good art of this.

Hanamusa as a term derives from the Japanese names of the characters – Hanako and Musashi. If you’re into shipping name structures, Hana-Musa implies that Hanako is the seme and Musashi the uke, but I don’t think that holds for all use cases of the type of terminology. It’s a ship. It’s an AU ship, as in an ‘alternate universe’ ship, where the two characters are presented in a context outside of the normal context of the anime presentation of them.

The Hanamusa ship as I understand it is set at some point after Jessie and James stop chasing Ash around, and Jessie settles down into a relationship with Delia. There’s tension about her history with Ash and the confusion about finding Your Personal Villain dating your mom, but mostly it’s about showing a sweet domestic life between two characters you know very well in a format I kind of see as like, Comedy-Sabot Romantic 4koma. Like, Hanamusa content is funny (and it is VERY funny) but it doesn’t need to be funny, because the main thing it’s about is showing these two characters and their relationship as they do cute things together.

It’s why people watch shows like K-On basically.

As for where this idea comes from, (EDIT: Slightly wonky wording here, I should have phrased 'this current fandom push' - I don't have any reason to believe Mai INVENTED the ship, just that when you go looking you'll wind up at her work) it seems to have its genesis with the work of one Kiana Mai, who developed this ship some time ago. Kiana Mai is also an extremely skilled artist, and one of those skills seems to be focus, creating these extremely clean-line excellently structured scene vignettes with no unnecessary content in them but also no need to rocket along. It’s amazing, engaging work that uses every part of the small format amazingly well. Which makes sense because one of the things Kiana Mai does is storyboarding work for Disney animated TV shows, a task at which I am sure she no doubt excels.

What I think is the most interesting aspect of Hanamusa, to me specifically, is that it manages to combine three things I don’t actually care about, in a way that doesn’t interfere with something I have unexpectedly strong opinions on. I do not watch Pokemon, and I have not shed a tear for Team Rocket and Ash Ketchum wandering into the sunset. That is a show that is not for or about my interests and that is okay. Indeed, imagining that it should be about what interests me is baffling. I think if I stopped watching a show twenty years ago, I have lost all right to act like I’m entitled to expect it remain the way it was all the way back then.

But I do have opinions on Jessie and James’ character voice. Not their voice acting – I mean, I know for a fact they’ve had to change over time and no voice actor should be obligated to kick it in the same role for what could be their entire career. I mean the way they talk about things and the words they use and kind of emphasis they put on words when they talk. About the way they voice their ideas, or the way they express who they are in the way they talk to one another, that stuff. It’s about affordances and persona, about the kind of people you project being by what words you choose to use and the affect when using them.

It’s why when, if a picture of a character is underneath it, you can read some dril posts as being ‘appropriately’ voiced by a character, even if it’s describing a candle situation that Francis Crozier did not have opinions on.

Jessie has a voice.

Jessie, in my head, is someone capable of moments of tenderness and friendship that is normally overwhelmed by an incredible confidence in ability she does not have and mere reality will never be given permission to infringe on it. Jessie is unassailably unstoppably sure of herself, thoughtlessly stupid in a way that doesn’t mean she is stupid, but which exists in a context of someone who has relentlessly pursued excellence in her job which is also the equivalent of being a late night 7/11 manager. She is the Girlboss that is Gaslighting herself into thinking she has something to Gatekeep.

Delia Ketchum by comparison is a very nice piece of wallpaper. Every appearance of her in my mind is someone Very Nice who is Very Patient and Very Supportive and has managed to keep literally all emotionally challenging conversations from happening around Ash, which can be perhaps easier when you remember that he, too, is an idiot. I don’t know how Delia Ketchum talks, but I do know that there are ways that Delia Ketchum does not talk.

This is interesting! It’s interesting because it presents a character where I am very sure I know what she does do when she does it, and a character about whom I can only be sure wouldn’t do some things. It creates a character space, and it creates expectations of affect and performance within that space. Ash and other characters show up as well, but because they get to interact with this already-defined space, you get treated to this really lovely kind of resonance. Would Ash call Jessie ‘dad’? Maybe, to bug her. He was good at being a twerp. Wasn’t he? I mean I remember it that way, he seems to work out that way, but… how would I know?

I know more of this AU where Jessie is studying to be a Pokemon Doctor and Ash wears glasses than I do of the source material any more. And if you’re wondering ‘hey, do Jessie and Delia ever meet in the source material?’ Like, yeah, for a few seconds. What, the point is creating something new.

If you want to check out Hanamusa stuff and read the comics, I recommend going and clicking on the hashtag on tumblr.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#Anime #Media

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silverflqmes · 1 month

Note

you are legit my favorite ffvii writer at the moment dude. if you feel like it, do you think you can write smth about being childhood friends w zack and reuniting with him one day? make sure to take care of yourself 💕 :)

໒⦂ 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆.

notes. HELP YOU’RE SO SWEET ANON??? IWOWJDJDK i haven’t written as much yet and i still have lots to learn but that really warmed my heart to hear 🥹🥹🥹 i decided to combine this with another request, i hope that’s okay with you both!<3

genre. fluff + angst

disclaimer. tifa speaking on cloud can either be platonic or romantic — whatever you wanna think just don’t start up a whole ship war bc it’s embarrassing as hell. obviously this is a zack fic so focus on zack smh.

zack fair x gn!reader.

“you’re.. leaving for SOLDIER?”

you shouldn’t be shocked, that was the last thing you should have been since you had been the one to encourage his decision.

and yet.. why did it hurt? you had known that it would, it was only naturally — but not like this.

zack averted his stare from the star blanketed sky, smiling solemnly. “sure am. you helped me realize that becoming a hero is something that i should do — that the world needed my kind of help.. so that’s,” he paused, allowing the evening breeze to shift his dark bangs. “exactly what i gotta do.”

you fell into silence for a moment, pursing your lips together as you considered his words.

it had been your crush’s dream from young, since seeing sephiroth on propaganda and hearing of his endeavors, to become a hero. the life he’d led in gongaga was wonderful, peaceful.. but you knew, deep down, he’d wanted to make that name for himself. that zack was.. meant for greater things.

and you, torn between your feelings for him and the need to encourage him as his best friend.. had no choice but to put aside what you felt to urge him to embrace his dreams.

when he received no answer, the raven haired teen took it as a sign to continue, leaning back on his elbows. “as of now, you’re the only one i’ve told about my decision — cuz well.. as you know, my parents aren’t super chill with it.” he laughed out, shaking his head. “so i’m gonna leave tomorrow night. got everything packed up already, a letter ready for them to pass on and i’ll be good to go!”

“tomorrow night? so soon?” you nearly interrogated him, only to respond with a slow nod. “you have my word, don’t worry about it.” should you tell on your friend? would that keep him just a little while longer if his parents knew and prevented his departure? would he hate you for it and finally give you a reason to stop feeling this way about him?

no.. you couldn’t live with yourself if he had hated you. that was practically death served on a silver platter, your heart would never start again if zack had expressed contempt for you.

for a second, longing flashed in his eyes before he allowed himself to grin, patting your back gently. “you’re amazing y/n!! i knew i could count on you no matter what! i’ll be sure to bring you something real nice from the big city!! and that’s a promise!”

a smile that didn’t quite meet your gaze etched itself onto your lips as you let out a hum of agreement. “you’re the amazing one, zack. i’ll..” miss you. “..be holding you to that promise, so you better keep it.”

three years passed and no sign of zack. the promise stood, but remained unfulfilled.

you should have expected it, that becoming a SOLDIER meant never seeing him again. you knew he was alive, a letter would have come if he wasn’t, and his parents kept you posted thankfully.

yet, there was still an emptiness you felt in his absence. every year, you’d told yourself that perhaps maybe, he would come home to visit this time.

now, having turned eighteen, you had decided to leave the comfort of gongaga as zack once had, and journeyed to nibelheim — a village in the mountains. it was small, quaint as your hometown was, perhaps colder, but after being offered a job through your parents, it called to you.

your mother had been from nibelheim and met your father in midgar — who had left gongaga to pursue a career in research as she had.

despite their retirement, they had developed many connections.. one of which, had been in the mountain village.

when you pleaded to leave and join up with your friend in the city he’d left for, your parents had urged you not to, and were strict on it.. as though something had been terribly wrong there.

you’d never asked why they retired so early on, and just assumed they had wanted to settle since they’d made their money.

but it didn’t.. fully seem that way.

“didja hear y/n? there’s a group of SOLDIERS coming down here tonight. ahhh, i hope cloud is there — i haven’t seen him in years.” your companion and guide sighed out, pacing about idly as you jotted down notes on your observations of the terrain.

tifa had been a friend you’d made upon your arrival. she was a year younger, but a real go getter and great help on your expeditions. in the beginning you worried for her safety, stringing her along as you did — only for her to protect you from the perils you feared.

you’d have to ask if that mentor of hers was willing to show you a move or two on self defense.

“cloud, huh? is he in SOLDIER, too?” you had told the girl before you already about your old buddy, as there was no possible way of her exposing your feelings for him.

and honestly, it was comforting to confide in someone for a change.

she nodded eagerly at your question, smiling softly. “he should be, it was his dream to become a SOLDIER, like sephiroth — that’s what he told me one day before he left.. and he’d promised to always protect me, no matter what.”

your writing seemed to pause at her comment, head lowering as you willed yourself to chuckle despite your anguish. “is that so?” zack, as you recalled, had dreamt of the same. “well, i hope he comes home safe if he’s a part of that group.” you smiled a little, closing your notebook before standing up from your crouched position.

“that should be enough for today, thanks for coming along again — i think i’m almost there with reaching my conclusion on this strange increase in mako spillage on the landscape.. but i just- can’t seem to put my finger on it.” you muttered, knitting your brows together before casting a glance over at mt. nibel- the highest point of the area you had moved to. “whatever, they’re keeping in that reactor.. there’s something really off about it.”

the burgundy eyed female followed your gaze before humming absentmindedly. “yeah.. i’m hoping those guys coming today might know or at least clean up over there.. i’d hate to see what might happen if the pollution intensifies down here.” she answered softly, helping you up before looking ahead. “for now, let’s get back — it’s almost sundown.”

at the mention of the visitors on their way from midgar, your thoughts went to your old friend, but you reprimanded yourself quickly. you would not have hopes again — as they only ever existed to get shattered and turn into despair.

and yet.. that one percentage asking but what if, remained.

the sun had drowned into billowing clouds, a shade of golden casting over the scenery as you walked beside your friend, exhaustion creeping up on you. however, you reminded yourself that the descent was always easier than the ascent.

“and we’re back, thank you for taking the tifa express way~” your travel partner giggled, earning a smile in return from you. she always had a way of brightening the mood with her optimism. kind of like.. nevermind.

the brunette looked around when she found the villagers gathered in the centre, adjusting her hat with a pout. “did we just miss them? i didn’t think we would be this late..”

you copied her actions, letting out a sound of contemplation. “maybe they turned in, midgar is a long way from here.. i’m sure they wanted to just take things easy for the night and start off fresh tomorrow.”

tifa paused for a minute to think before letting out a sigh and nodding. “i guess you have a point — tomorrow, then.” she smiled again, holding out her thumb. “i’m gonna be their guide, i’ll make sure of it!”

you rolled your eyes in amusement before nudging her with your elbow. “whatever helps you sleep at night, tifa.. i’ll catch you in the morning, in that case. i still gotta sort some things with information i picked up today.” a trip to that mako reactor and your research might at last be complete. perhaps.. you could convince the group in bringing you along- especially if your friend would be going.

it was the perfect in!

“mhm, see you in the morning, y/n! don’t be up all night doing that work of yours if you wanna wake up on time!”

with those parting words, followed by a wave, the female dressed in orange walked towards the direction of her home, eagerly greeting her father at the door before joining him inside.

your shoulders fell, a low exhale escaping your lips as you adjusted your backpack. and just like that, she was gone.

you made your way into the inn you’d been staying at for the time being, rubbing your eyes.

it was a temporary arrangement, given you hadn’t fully decided yet if you would be staying permanently in nibelheim. however, the living accommodations worked just fine.

you hadn’t thought yourself difficult to please, anyway. so long as you had the necessary essentials needed to live, all was well. that was what you’d learned growing up in gongaga.

entering the inn, you greeted the host before ascending the steps, pausing when you caught sight of a towering, silver haired.. male? unless a woman could stand at nearly seven feet.. and across from him, stood.. no — had your eyes deceived you?

“z-zack..?”

the conversation between the pair, whatever it had been about, came to a full stop as they turned to face you, shock painting on the face of the SOLDIER with the darker hair.

“y/n..??” he spoke up incredulously, blinking over at you as his jaw fell just slightly. “no way- what’re you doing here.. in nibelheim of all places? i thought you were-”

“in gongaga?” you asked with a small smile before shaking your head. “my parents found me work here, so i moved just a few months ago. never thought i’d see you here, before returning home, no less.”

zack could feel the coldness of your words, piercing through him like icicles tipped in poison. pissed was an understatement.

the taller behind him smiled awkwardly before moving towards his door, not wanting to be muddled into the affairs of his triend. “i believe you both have some catching up to do.. i will see you in the morning, zack.”

the boy in question parted his lips in protest, but the cat-eyed male was gone before he could do so. damn!

awkwardly, he turned to meet your awaiting stare, swallowing thickly.

“sorry, i’ve.. had a lot going on.” he confessed, lowering his head in shame. “i wanted to come home sooner — especially after making first class just recently- but things.. everything that has been going on as of late at shinra, it’s been really messed up.” zack confessed, clenching his fists at his side before letting out a glum chuckle. “and it just keeps getting weirder.. what were the odds i’d find you here of all places?”

you leaned against the window, folding your arms as you gazed out. “close to none. i guess it’s a thing of fate, maybe.” you offered, sliding your eyes back to his zircon ones. “seems my parents were right to not send me to the city with whatever ‘messed up things’ that happened.”

the SOLDIER nodded, allowing a brief silence to pass before smiling. “they probably were, yeah.. don’t think you would have liked midgar much, anyway. it’s all gross and industrial looking.. although!” he blurted suddenly, perking up as though he’d remembered something. “wait right here, i’ve got something i want to give you!”

you rose a brow at his random burst of energy, reminding you that despite the change in his appearance, the development he had gone through.. he was still your zack, and that wouldn’t change.

he disappeared into his room before you could answer, rummaging by the noises you’d made out, which had you shielding your mouth with your hand. “don’t get lost in there, now.”

“like i would!” he laughed before emerging from his quarters, holding out a messily wrapped box for you. “no matter where i went, i always kept this with me, thinking that maybe- just maybe, i would pass through our hometown and find you to hold up that promise i made to you. finally,” the spiky haired SOLDIER paused, grinning brightly. “i was able to fulfill it!”

you blinked in surprise, taking the package into your hand as you felt your face burn despite the coldness provided by the high altitudes of nibelheim. “you.. remembered?”

appalled, zack let out a gasp of offense. “remembered? how could i forget?? a promise is a promise, and i intended on keeping it!” he huffed out before raising his fists before him in excitement. “now come on, open it!!”

overcome with a sudden happiness, to know you hadn’t been forgotten despite the negative thoughts you’d created, you opened up his gift to you with earnest. a glimpse of green entered your vision as you quirked a curious brow. a plant? no.. zack wasn’t the type to keep plants.

finally removing the top completely, you stared down at the present before stifling a laugh into your forearm. “you- you got me a cactuar.. stuffed toy?” you spluttered in surprise.

of course he did — it was zack for goodness sake..

“sure did!! ya like it?? it looked authentic when i saw it in the window!” he answered proudly, placing his hands on his hips.

you continued laughing, unable to contain yourself as you held your stomach. “it’s so random- but that’s.. that’s just like you to get me!” you wiped a tear, allowing a smile nearly as bright as his, or perhaps- even brighter for a change, to replace your initial frown. “i love it a lot, but.. you wanna know what i love more?”

a mixture of interest and excitement sparked in his eyes as he inched closer, eager to hear. “what? what is it??”

having caught your breath, you closed your eyes, holding the plush close to your heart. “being here- reunited with you, again..”

like an invisible string, knots and tangles had appeared in the thread that connected you both. however, it wasn’t impossible to unravel and detangle that which connected you both, to allow an opportunity of reunion.

( even if it was the right place, but sadly.. the wrong time. )

notes. bittersweet open ending cuz well.. it’s nibelheim- anyway, i hope this was okay! i think my writing style kinda changed.. scary. oh well! the support these last few days have been much appreciated<3 tysm you guys, hearts out to you fr<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

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corrodedcoffinfest · 1 month

Text

Welcome to Corroded Coffin Fest!

This is a fanworks challenge/event that is all about Corroded Coffin. It will take place from July 1st thru July 31st.

Thanks so much for showing interest in this event during this post! If you have friends that you think would like to participate, please considering reblogging this announcement!

The calendar of prompts is located here:

Since there are so many events going on (and we love to see it!) we've decided to set a word count range for this event, so the love can be spread around to more events.

GUIDELINES:

Ideas for works include: fic, art, gifsets, fanvids, moodboards, edits, playlists, or anything else you can think of to celebrate Corroded Coffin!

For fics, there is a word count minimum/maximum of between 300-1000 words per drabble. We'll use wordcounter.net to check the word counts before reblogging, so make sure you stick to that range!

Do one prompt, do them all. Hell, do them all twice! It's totally up to you. You can pick and choose what you're interested in. And we're not going to police how you interpret the prompt. Just use them as a jumping off point to be inspired by the boys of Corroded Coffin, and then share that inspiration with us! (Not everything has to be band related, we encourage you to explore other parts of their lives, too!)

Submissions can absolutely be connected to other prompts from the event, or even past works, but should still be able to stand alone each day.

Every morning a new prompt card will go up, reminding everyone of what that day's prompt will be.

All submissions should include any pairings featured, content rating and any content warnings (CW) or tags that you think are appropriate. Please put the prompt you are fulfilling as well, just to keep things straightforward. A sample could look something like this:

Prompt Day 9: The Hideout, Word Count: 666, Rating: M, Pairing: None, CW: Underage Drinking, Recreational Drug Use, Tags: Corroded Coffin, First Gig, Partying, Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, Freak, The Hideout

Also, please consider putting any explicit material under a read more cut, because anything rated E that's not hidden under a cut will not be reblogged.

For the artists! Your art submission must be posted on the same day as the current prompt in order to be reblogged by this blog. Your piece of art (or other creation) must be Corroded Coffin focused, using any combination of the guys, together or solo. Of course, other characters can be included, too! But you need to have at least one of the CC band members in it for it to count for this event. Thank you!

All ships are welcome, as long as they include at least one member of Corroded Coffin: Eddie, Jeff, Gareth & Freak. (Who I look forward to learning the name of from you all, time and time again!)

Please tag us here @corrodedcoffinfest when you post your work for the day so we can reblog it!

Be respectful of your fellow participants and readers. We're all here to have fun and share the love of all parts of Corroded Coffin.

Definitely feel free to ask me anything if the rules weren't clear in places, or if I straight up forgot something (or if you just have anything else you'd like to ask). You can send an ask/message to this blog or reach out to @thisapplepielife.

Please submit your post by 11:59 PM EDT on the day of the prompt in order to not be missed for reblogging.

If posting on AO3, please feel free to use the collection associated with this event: Corroded Coffin Fest AO3 Collection after your submission has been reblogged by this account.

Most importantly, have fun! We can't wait to see what Corroded Coffin fanworks come out of this new event!

More info below, including full prompt list with jumping off suggestions, the warm-up rounds for April, May & June, and a spreadsheet you're free to use:

PROMPTS:

JULY 1ST - FIRSTS

First gig, first check, first award, first...anything.

JULY 2ND - IN THE BEGINNING

How did Corroded Coffin come to be?

JULY 3RD - BEST FRIENDS

Who are the best friends in the band in your head? Let's find out.

JULY 4TH - EDDIE

We all know Eddie. Let's hear some more about him today.

JULY 5TH - ON THE ROAD AGAIN

Get them out on the road, in any way you see fit.

JULY 6TH - HEARD IT IN A LOVE SONG

Let's have some romance. Any pairing(s) that tickle your fancy.

JULY 7TH - CELEBRATE GOOD TIMES, C'MON

Let them celebrate! Maybe that's a birthday/holiday/celebration show. Maybe it's a wedding, etc.

JULY 8TH - BAND POLITICS

Fight! Fight! Fight! Not everything goes smoothly all the time.

JULY 9TH - THE HIDEOUT

Catch them there, every Tuesday, playing for five drunks.

JULY 10TH - PRIDE

Let's see them celebrate Pride! Or let's see them be proud, etc.

JULY 11TH - JEFF

Let's spend some time with the guitarist of Corroded Coffin.

JULY 12TH - OW!

Injuries happen. Tell me more.

JULY 13TH - SEX, DRUGS & ROCK N ROLL

Tell us about the seedier parts of being in a band! 18+ for adult content, please!

JULY 14TH - AND THE WINNER IS...

It's time for awards season. Do they win? Lose? Let us know.

JULY 15TH - LET'S TALK ABOUT THAT

Press Tour/Interviews. Sometimes they need to promote themselves.

JULY 16TH - STRUGGLING

They're working their asses off, grinding it out, but they haven't hit the big time yet. Or they're struggling in other ways...

JULY 17TH - "THIS ONE'S FOR YOU"

Dedicate a song to someone special.

JULY 18TH - FREAK (GRANT, FRANK, GOODIE, ETC.)

Whatever name you given him, let's all focus on the bassist of Corroded Coffin.

JULY 19TH - IN THE GARAGE

Get them in the garage. Band practice, fixing the van, etc.

JULY 20TH - UNDER THE COVERS

Let them cover some real songs. Or, you know, get under the covers in another way...

JULY 21ST - HATE THIS TOWN

Hawkins. How was it dragging them down? Or, maybe they hate LA...

JULY 22ND - ALTERNATE UNIVERSE (AU)

Use your imaginations and put them into a whole new world!

JULY 23RD - UP AND COMING

They're finally gaining a little traction. Or maybe they're up...and coming. *wink wink, nudge nudge*

JULY 24TH - BEHIND THE SCENES

What's it take to get this show on the road? Or, what are they really like, off-stage? Let's get a peek behind the curtain.

JULY 25TH - GARETH

Bang them sticks! Let's catch up with the drummer of Corroded Coffin.

JULY 26TH - TOUR DATE

Let's focus on a specific show.

JULY 27TH - YOU'LL BE IN MY HEART

Navigating love while on the road.

JULY 28TH - BACK TO INDIANA

Let's go back to Hawkins and/or Indiana. Send these boys home.

JULY 29TH - BEHIND THE MUSIC

You know there's drama. A story. Probably enough for VH1 to come knocking.

JULY 30TH - FAME & FORTUNE

They've made it big! Now what?

JULY 31ST - YOUR SONG

A Corroded Coffin song? A work inspired by a song? A song that makes you think of Corroded Coffin?

WARM-UP ROUNDS:

Let's get a little practice before the full event in July!

Here's a prompt each month leading up to the event to work out the kinks and get in the rhythm of it all!

APRIL 15TH - TAXED

It's tax day. Do they need to pay their taxes? Is this a write-off? Or, are they just taxed from being on the road? Tax them.

MAY 15TH - GET A JOB

Put 'em to work. First jobs, side hustles, etc. Surely they've had some other jobs besides being in the band. Tell us about them.

JUNE 15TH - BAND ON THE RUN

Are they late for a gig? Running from monsters in the Upside Down? On a tour from hell?

Same guidelines as the full event will apply.

SPREADSHEET:

If you'd like a spreadsheet to help you keep track of the prompts and your progress, here's the one I personally use for other events, and will be using myself for this event. If you'd like to use it yourself, just go to File>Make a Copy and you'll get a version you can edit in your own Google Sheets.

Thanks for showing interest in having a Corroded Coffin event this year! ❤️🦇🖤 - @thisapplepielife (and thanks for the help and adding to the prompt list, @wormdebut!)

#corrodedcoffinfest #corroded coffin #mod post #rules #guidelines #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #freak stranger things #fanworks event #event rules

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freelancearsonist · 22 days

Text

when the sun came up, you were looking at me

➔ Din Djarin x gn!Reader - 2.4k

➔ A bounty on your head and a bad ship wreck are just a few of the circumstances that have you questioning if you and Mando will ever be out of the woods.

➔ Rated PG-13 for curse words that are probably not canon in star wars, reader is generally able-bodied but otherwise is completely a blank slate, mando is probably ooc but we’re all a little delusional here, lots of blood, i don’t actually know how concussions work and we’re taking some broad liberties with injuries here.

➔ this is another submission to @beskarandblasters's Taylor Swift Drabble Challenge! (if you're reading this kel ily <3) this fic is non-linear so pls bare with me - the timeline will make more sense at the end!

You keep your head down and walk quickly, ignoring the frantic heartbeat of city noise surrounding you as your legs carry you down a dim street.

This is the last place you want to be right now. Even with your cloak’s hood drawn up around your head, you feel too exposed.

The apothecary is a very little hole-in-the-wall type place; you walk past it twice before you finally locate it. The facade looks like it’s about to crumble, and the single window is caked in a thick layer of dust. It looks like it’s been abandoned for decades, rotting with the telltale signs of neglect.

The storekeeper inside looks even worse. She’s a decrepit little woman, squat and skinny, white hair brittle and tangled. Just looking at her makes you want to slowly back away and apologize; say you have the wrong building and run away as quickly as you can.

This is the only shot you have, though; the only place that won’t immediately call the authorities when you step through the door. If you get picked up, everything is fucked.

With a deep breath, you swallow your nerves and summon Din to mind. You think of his easy, authoritative tone and you try to emulate the confidence that modulator always used to convey.

You hear the crash before it happens.

It’s unlike any sound you’ve ever heard before. A high pitched whistle in combination with the deep, metallic scrape of mechanisms working overtime.

And then you feel it. It shakes the very earth you stand on, sends tremors and shockwaves up your legs all the way to the crown of your head. Even after the ground has stopped trembling, your fingertips tingle with the sensation.

You grab a blaster and you run.

You know before you even find it that it’s Din’s ship. There’s a churning, nauseous wrench in your gut and you just know.

There’s so many thoughts swirling through your mind that it doesn’t feel like you’re thinking at all. Your body simply moves on autopilot, like you’re watching a holovid. You traipse bravely into debris and ruin, locating the crumpled remains of the cockpit.

All that beskar is a damned curse, because he blends right in amongst the crumpled and twisted metal of what used to be a functional ship. Stolen, sure, but functional all the same–and the only one either of you had.

But you push aside your anger, because he isn’t responding. You’re calling his name and shaking his chest and he’s just laying there. Not joking about you smudging his armor, not breathing a little heavier at the sound of his name on your tongue like he always does. He just lays there, limp and unresponsive, and you’ve never been more terrified in your life.

There’s smoke and everything feels hot, but it doesn’t matter, nothing matters, adrenaline surges through your veins and you start dragging him. More than two hundred pounds of bulky man and armor but it doesn’t matter because if he dies like this you’ll never fucking forgive him, never fucking forgive yourself.

You drag him out of the wreckage and dump him unceremoniously on the grass, and then you get really scared. He hasn’t made a single noise, hasn’t even tried to help you with his weight.

You thump a little harder than you should on his chest, desperation outweighing any logical train of thought. “Din, wake the fuck up!”

It’s the slightest of movements–just a barely discernible turn of his helmeted head–but it’s enough.

“Where are you hurt?” You beg, plead, cry. “You have to tell me where you’re hurt, I can help, but you have to tell me.”

His neck is just the littlest bit exposed, but it’s enough. You see scarlet red rivers tracing paths down corded muscle, and it makes your gut clench so hard you almost get sick right then and there.

“You have to take it off,” you whisper–your hand comes to rest at the side of his helmet, the only thing between living and dying at this point. “You have to take it off, Din, I can’t do it for you.”

His fingers twitch indecisively at his sides, and you realize with a gut-wrenching pang of fear that he might not be strong enough to do it himself.

Or, even worse: that he might rather die than show you his face.

As soon as you’re back out the door, your body tremors with a sudden wave of previously repressed anxiety. You want to break out in tears, but you can’t yet. If there’s ever a time you have to be strong, it’s now.

You tuck the bag of supplies underneath your cloak and draw the fabric tightly around your torso as you walk back down the street the way you came.

You don’t think the storekeeper alerted anyone who shouldn’t know about your presence here, but you walk as quickly as you can anyway. It’s better to be safe than sorry.

The ship is old and barely functional, but it’s the best you could scrape up on short notice. It works well enough for these little in-system supply runs, even if it does shake a little more than is comfortable when you take off and land.

After what happened to Din, you swore you would never fly again. That promise went pretty short-lived.

“You’re late. Again.”

You’re used to the deep, gravelly tone of his modulated voice by now, but that doesn’t stop the shiver that works its way down your spine.

“I’m sorry,” you say, as meek as you can sound. You set a bundle of herbs and vegetables down on the counter, hoping the offering will appease him at least a little bit. “I found a garden and–”

“And you shouldn’t be going that far alone.” His voice is firm, there’s no room for negotiation.

“Din, I–”

“Don’t. Argue.” And there’s just something about that authoritative tone that makes your traitorous heart seize in a way it shouldn’t. “You are in danger. I brought you here to protect you but I can’t if you keep running away.”

“I wasn’t ‘running away’, I just wanted to be helpful.”

But he’s not budging–not on this one. “You can’t be helpful if you’re captured or killed.”

He stands towering next to you, so solid and imposing. He sets his hands on his hips and you hate the disapproval radiating from him. More specifically, you hate that you’ve disappointed him.

Your voice sounds small, meek–you hate it. “I didn’t do it, Din.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re a galactic fugitive with a bounty on your head.”

He’s not wrong, but it makes the hairs on the back of your neck prickle defensively anyway.

“You said we were safe here. You said we could lay low here until my name is cleared and no one would find me.”

“If you follow my orders,” he adds firmly. “You’re reckless and it’s going to get you killed.”

“I’m restless!” You correct, throwing your hands up in the air. “I hate being fucking… cooped up! I want to go out, and I want to do things, and I want to be able to take care of you the way you take care of me!”

There’s a heavy moment of silence so thick you could cut it with a knife. You know as soon as the words are out of your mouth that you’ve said too much, but you don’t know how to backtrack now.

“I can take care of both of us.” His voice is so much softer and gentler, you almost think you’ve misheard him. Surely you have, because it’s only been a few weeks since he rescued you from certain death–since he decided the price of the bounty on your head wasn’t more valuable than your innocence–and he’s been a stoic enigma the whole time. Always quiet, always imposing. You’ve never been able to get a good read of what’s going on behind that visor, so you’ve always assumed there wasn’t much.

Maybe you were wrong. You so desperately want to be wrong.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, stepping a little closer. Approaching him like a wounded animal, terrified of scaring him off. “I’ll be more careful.”

And you hear it–the hitch in his breath through the modulator at your proximity. You’re closer than you’ve ever been before by choice, and he knows it.

“Good.”

He turns on his heel and retreats into the back room of the little cottage you’ve commandeered and fixed into somewhere livable, and you can do nothing but slump in defeat.

He barely gets the helmet over his ears before he passes out, but it’s enough. Your hands catch the heavy beskar before it can slide back down over his face and you pull it the rest of the way off to toss it safely out of the way.

You’ve seen little peeks of his skin before–mostly his hands when he tugs off those heavy leather gloves–and you know right away he’s too pale. His face is completely drained for color, and again you feel that uncomfortably sharp twist in your gut. But you tell it to fuck off and your hands spring into action, desperately trying to find what’s wrong.

There’s a small yet jagged piece of metal sticking out of his neck, right under where the helmet's protection ends but above where the neck of his shirt would normally sit. Just the smallest strip of exposed skin, but it’s enough. Luck wasn’t on his side today.

You have to pull it out to get a better idea of just how deep it is, but your fingers are so slick with his blood that you can’t get a good grip on it. That’s when the frustration kicks in and your eyes well with tears; your blurry vision only makes you more frustrated, until you’re helpless and sobbing into his stomach.

But you feel it–the slow, unsteady rise and fall of his chest. He’s fighting, but he needs your help. You need to get it together because you’re the only chance he has.

You take a deep, unsteady breath and wipe the blood from your hands–and then you reach for that jagged piece of metal again.

You have to sit in the cockpit of your rusty, scavenged ship for a moment to catch your breath after you land safely and in one piece. You’re not even scared of crashing, you’re scared of dying and leaving Din alone. Din, who believed you when you said you didn’t commit the murder you were charged with. Din, who took you to the safety of this mostly uninhabited planet and assured you that no one would find you. Din, who swore that he would protect you.

Din, who has yet to wake up since he fainted lifelessly in your arms.

The metal wasn’t imbedded that deep, thank the Maker. He lost a fair amount of blood over it, but not so much that he couldn’t recover, and it didn’t knick anything too important that you couldn’t stitch back up even with your unskilled hands.

It’s the concussion that worries you. You’re certain it’s not the first he’s had, but it’s definitely got to be the most severe. His skull must’ve bounced around in that damned helmet like a stray pinball. You’re able to take a small amount of comfort from the way his pupils retract when you lift his eyelids, at least, but that comfort wanes with each passing day that he doesn’t wake up.

This is your third time returning from that shady little apothecary on the next planet over, but it’s the first time his eyes have been open when you come through the door.

And for one horrible, gut-turning moment, you think he’s dead. He stares so blankly at the ceiling that you want to fall to the floor and die yourself.

But he hears you approaching, and his eyes flicker over to you. Those deep, chocolatey brown eyes that you’ve come to crave meet yours for the very first time and you start to sob with relief.

You push his back firmly against the mattress when he tries to get up, and you shake your head when his lips part around unspoken words. You just need to cry right now, so he lets you.

Everything comes up all at once–days of panic and fear, days of never knowing if you would ever hear the sound of his voice again, days of tears that you haven’t cried because you haven’t allowed yourself to. It all comes to a boiling point and spills over the edge of the pot, and poor Din just lays there and lets you cry into his chest because there’s nothing else he can do.

It takes longer than you wish it did for you to regain some composure, and when you finally pull away you’re feeling a little more than self-conscious about the very apparent display of emotion.

He must sense it, and even though his face is unreadable, he catches your hand before you can retreat too far.

“H-helmet?” He croaks, throat dry with misuse.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’ll go get it. I… I didn’t see your face, as far as this is concerned. You’re safe with me.”

But he doesn’t let go of your hand when you step to retrieve the helmet–if anything, he squeezes it tighter.

“S’okay,” he whispers hoarsely. “K-kinda… feels ni-ice.”

And it makes your heart flutter in a way it shouldn’t. That not only is he letting you see his handsome face, but he might even be enjoying it.

“I’m so glad you’re awake,” you murmur as you start to remove the bandage from his neck. It’s healed down to a thin line now–the bacta’s run its course, and it’s faded to a simple scar. It could be years old if you didn’t know better. “I… I was so scared.”

“M’sorry.”

And you laugh, because it’s so ridiculous that he feels the need to apologize. It’s so ridiculous that he could think you’re upset at him for getting hurt when all you feel is pure, unadulterated relief.

He takes a deep breath and catches your hand again. “Saved me.”

“You saved me, too,” you murmur–before you can think about it, you ghost your lips in a feather-light kiss over his knuckles.

His eyes flutter shut from that minimal amount of contact, but it’s enough. He’s okay, you’re okay, and it’s enough.

➔ beta: @shakespeareanwannabe; dividers: @saradika-graphics

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#the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #mando fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #star wars #star wars fanfiction #cece writes

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sophswritingthings · 5 months

Note

hiiiiii! i’m not sure if requests are open but if they are, here’s an idea that i’d love to see come to fruition!

okay so: after maybe 5 or so years, mizu finally kills skeffington, roughtly (rowley?? i literally cannot remember his name 😭) and fowler, and maybe along the way she met and grew close with a woman that lived in england at the time she got there with fowler.

like, REALLY close, the most human connection either of them have ever had. but, mizu eventually has to go home, and during their goodbyes, they both try to play it cool with the whole “you were a wonderful experience” but in reality they’re both like “you were everything” and once mizu gets on the boat back to japan, they lose it. ending is up to you! ty for your time <3

pairing: mizu x fem!english!reader

warning(s): none

a/n: ya'll. I’m combining these becauseeeee they were similar enough for me to do so! hope you guys don’t mind <3

summary: after spending her time in england, mizu grows close with you. and you do the same with her. you feel an attachment, to the samurai—it’s the closest you’ve ever felt to anyone. and you never wanted her to leave; but you knew she must.

word count: 746 words / 3,948 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you knew this day was coming.

mizu had told you all about her vow; how she had sworn herself to kill the white men in japan, at the time of her birth. the men who had made her the way that she was.

and you couldn’t help but want to thank those men—because you loved the woman you had met.

mizu had finished her quest. her vow had be fulfilled.

now—it was time for her to return back to japan. one day—one night, you had together, until the boat that had gotten her here came to take her back to japan.

the day you dreaded so much.

you were sitting together, nestled onto a plush rose covered sofa.. her arm draped around your shoulder—your hand coming up to wrap around her rough hands.

it was silent. neither of you wanted to talk about it.

“okay,” you said in that british accent that you held, getting your feet. mizu gazed at you; wondering what you were doing. and what were you about to lecture her about? “neither of us want to talk about you leaving; I can see that, mizu, but.. we have to.”

she sighed, adverting her blue gaze, “what is there to talk about, (y/n)? I am leaving. I won’t see you again.”

you almost whimper at her words.

“I..” you whisper, recoiling a bit, “I-I cannot just come with you?”

mizu shook her head, “no. not in the slightest,” she hissed, her eyes narrowed. “they want to kill me for simply having the blue eyes of a white man.. what do you think they will do to you?”

you sigh, folding your arms across your chest. you knew she was right; but you couldn’t help but hold onto hope of the idea.

“than.. what shall we do?” you posed the question. what were you to do?

“we will spend what little time we have together,” she grabbed your hand, yanking you back onto the couch beside her.

despite the grim conversation; you couldn’t help but giggle at her action.

“I love you, mizu.. I truly do. I have never felt closer to anyone than you,” you rest your chin against her chest, looking up at her with wide, loving eyes.

she kissed your forehead, “I love you too, (y/n). I feel the same as you. never before have I been able to get close to anyone; yet you welcomed me with open arms. I love you.”

you were standing on the dock to the large ship, holding a small case for mizu. yes, she hadn’t come with anything but the clothes on her back and her sword.

yet you had packed away things you wanted her to have. you wanted her to have something to remind her of you, even if it was a sad idea.

you lean over to kiss her cheek, handing her the case tenderly. tears were rolling down your cheeks, smiling softly despite it all.

“.. I will miss you,” you whisper. “you.. we’re a great experience, mizu.”

she smiles, grabbing your hand and kissing—like the first time you’d met her.

“you—were everything.” she says softly, allowing her lips to linger on your hand for just a second—before the contact faded.

you watched as she boarded the boat, that case bouncing at her side..

you couldn’t bare to see her go. tears followed down your cheeks like a raging river.

no. you weren’t letting her leave; it wasn’t happening.

“mizu!” your feet were suddenly rushing you toward the boat, your heel’s clacking against the creaking wood as you ran up the boats ramp, “I-I’m not allowing you to leave. not without me.”

her eyes narrowed to slits. she wanted that; she wanted that so bad. but she couldn’t bare to put your safety at risk for her own selfish wants.

“no—you cannot—I—“

you stopped her before she could finish speaking.

“mizu, I don’t care—I will hide, if I have to—hide in the mountains where no-one will ever find me. but I wish to be with you. I need to be with you.” you hissed, your hands resting on either side of her face.

she seemed to melt at your touch; sighing.

“alright,” she conceded.

an idiot; that’s what she was. sneaking a white woman into japan; under her protection and care.

but here she was—doing it anyway.

you needn’t worry, though, you were under her protection now. and she wasn’t going to let anyone ruffle a hair on your head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tag(s): @the-crustation-sensation tagging even though you’ll probably see this lol <3

#mizu x you #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu #blue eyed samurai #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #ask #asked and answered #x reader #request #fic request

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thewertsearch · 7 days

Text

GG: aaaaa please dont tell anyone i told you about him! […] CA: settle dowwn jade youre radically underestimatin the amount of shit i dont givve about this […] CA: i got bigger ships to sink and soon wwhen im good and ready me and my luminous fuckin science stick havve got a date wwith jack noir

Seems like Eridan's planning to join Vriska.

Correction - he's planning to rejoin Vriska.

If he's trying to restart their kismesissitude, he's going to be sorely disappointed. Vriska is out of his league, and not just as a romantic partner. She's a god, and he's an angry kid with a wand who represents no threat whatsoever to Noir.

CA: wwhys this matter so hush hush anywway GG: he didnt want me to tell my friends who he really was […] GG: he was so nice, and it really did feel like i was talking to family, so i really dont think he was making it up

I think your intuition is correct, but that doesn't mean he's specifically your grandson. After all, 'family' is a term which can encompass all sorts of relationships.

GG: i couldnt help but try to imagine his parents… GG: and more interestingly……. GG: his grandfather :O

Even if he is your grandson, that doesn't necessarily mean he has a grandfather. As far as I can tell, there's no reason why the Veil's DNA-mixing machine couldn't merge the genes of two women.

For all we know, Pen-Pal could have four biological grandmothers!

CA: that gun i just gavve you is somethin of a hatchright to the kid CA: happy i could play a role in your dirty stinkin lineage GG: like an heirloom? i guess it could be GG: do you even have those? if you dont have parents how could you? CA: no wwe dont knoww our direct forebears and im pretty sure any attempt to seek out or evven inquire about the supplier of your genes wwould be a fine wway to get yourself killed

I didn't think a troll's genes had an individual supplier.

Based on the fact that their genetic material is combined in the Mother Grub, I've been assuming that each troll is created from a large number of 'parents', whose DNA is mixed in the Mother's stomach.

Obviously, our Sgrub trolls are going to be an exception to this rule, since the game presumably cloned them from twelve Guardians - but Eridan seems to be implying that all trolls have an individual parent.

This doesn't align at all with what we know about troll reproduction. There also seems to be a certain amount of secrecy surrounding this process, since Eridan thinks you'd be killed for looking into it. Is there some sort of conspiracy at play?

CA: but wwevve got our lore and it says wwe all got indivvidual ancestors wwho contribute to most of our genes abovve and beyond wwhat the grubs slurry does

Alright, that makes a little more sense. So trolls are derived from a large mixture of DNA, but they have one true 'parent' who contributes the lion's share of genetic data.

Maybe an embryonic troll starts off as a clone of this parent, and other trolls' genes are slowly spliced into it as it develops.

Again, for the Sgrub trolls, things are a little different. We have reason to believe they were cloned in sets of three, implying that each of them has three genetic donors. Perhaps, then, they each inherited the majority of their DNA from one of these trolls - their 'ancestor' - and only share a small number of genes with the other two.

These ancestors have been mentioned before - quite a while ago, now - and I think they may be the key to solving a major mystery of the Hivebent arc.

Namely, Aradia mentioned her ancestors, and seemed to believe she was following their orders. When Scratch's plans started to reveal themselves, I assumed that he was the one directing Aradia, and was only pretending to be these unseen forebears.

With this new revelation, however, I'm forced to reconsider my stance. What if the Voices were those of the ancestors?

What if Aradia was being instructed by the troll Guardians all along?

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #s107 #3176

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claimedcrossbows · 7 months

Text

Served! Sanji x Fem!Reader pt. 3 (Finale?)

Anime Spoilers/Foreshadowing

It took a while gathering all of the ingredients and of course teaching Sanji how to prepare the dish, but you were once again surprised with how fast he picked up on things, maybe even a little bit jealous, but of course you’d never tell him that.

“How did you learn these recipes?” He asked while mixing the soup until all of the ingredients were combined and ready to stew.

You sighed, “My grandmother owned this restaurant and happened to be one of those individuals that never quite trusted doctors you know? And after the passing of my mother all faith in doctors went out the window and she decided to make her own medicines, which through lots of trial and error actually turned out to do wonders. Next thing she knew sailors of all sorts were coming to the restaurant just for her healing recipes ,which of course made business boom.” You explained.

Sanji continued the soup but his focus was completely locked onto you as you talked.

“Eventually she started researching numerous other recipes that she heard whispers about from many people passing through and as I got older she eventually taught those recipes to me in hopes that I would not only become a great chef, but a great healer as well and of course always look out for my sister.” You explained.

Sanji gives you a warm smile, “Well you seem to be a great big sister, she couldn’t stop boasting about how amazing you were as she assisted me.” He revealed.

You smile at that, “I’m sure she thinks i’m a pain at times, but it’s all for her benefit, all we have is each other.” You say as a sad smile glosses over your lips.

You both fall into a silence as the aroma of the soup begins to fill the room in a way that immediately relaxes you, it reminds you so much of her.

“What about you, Why is a cook as good as you on a pirate ship?” You asked curiously.

He gently laughs, “It’s a long story, but to cut it short, I want to find the All Blue.” He says simply as he sets a timer for the soup and sits himself by you on the counter.

Your eyes widen at this, you had heard that name many times from your grandmother, you were convinced that if she hadn’t had to raise you and your sister, she probably would’ve set out to find it herself.

“You think it’s real?” You ask genuinely.

“It has to be.” He says.

“You sound like my grandmother, she always told me tales about a exotic sea filled with all sorts of sea life, weeds, plants..truly a cooks paradise.” You smiled remembering her enthusiasm.

“And i’m going to find it.” Sanji says sounding self assured, something you noticed he was quite often.

“Well, I wish you the best of luck..but I found it’s best not to get your hopes up on things, that will save you a lot of heartache.” You advised.

“Speaking from experience?” He questions gently not wanting to pry but ever so curious.

“My Grandmother tried her best to save my mother, in the end, nothing she did worked, and she couldn’t set out to sea to find the all blue, so not everyone dreams get fulfilled right?” You say.

“What’s your dream?” He asks his gaze lingering.

“Well right now it’s to get this soup done so your hungry captain can leave my restaurant.” You say bluntly.

Sanji laughs, “Fair, but really what is it?”

Your about to respond but your sister comes in hurriedly, “Y/N, another letters arrived, I think it’s from him again.” She says frowningly.

You sigh opening the letter giving it a quick scan before tearing it right down the middle.

“Everything okay?” Sanji questions.

You shrug, “It’s nothing, anyway this soup should be ready in a few hours i’m going to the study, make sure you give it a stir every once in a while.” You say lifting yourself off the counter and walking upstairs to your study leaving your sister and Sanji by themselves.

You sighed looking over numerous papers on your desk and you groaned clutching your head at the ever forming headache that was approaching.

A knock on your door once again snapped you out of your thoughts as you yelled for whoever it was to come in.

To your surprise you saw your little sister, “Y/n, thought I should tell you the soup is ready, Sanji wanted to know was there any particular way he should serve it to his friend?” She asks you.

“Add in a pinch of chili flakes, it’ll help that lady sweat out that fever.” You advise.

Your sister nods and goes to leave before stopping, “Was the letter from earlier him?” She asks hesistantly.

You look up at her and nod, “Yes, but not to worry it’s fine.” You say smoothily, even though your head ache was at full spin.

She observes your desk of papers and frowns, “Are those all bills..?” She hesistantly asks.

“And a sprinkle of shut off notices.” You mutter.

“Y/N, maybe I should reply back to him if it help-”

You slam a hand directly on the table, it’s sound reverbing and echoing though the walls, causing your sister to flinch back. “Absolutely not, I said I have this handled, besides with our new ranking in the papers by the critic i’m sure business will pick up again soon.” You explained.

“But this guy sounds very rich and I hear he’s sailing close by I mean would it hurt to at least hear what he says?” Your sister meakly asks.

You scoff, “Marigold, do you want to be a chef?” You ask her plainly and bluntly searching her taken aback face as you stand and approach her.

“You know I want nothing else-” ”Then act like it, and trust me when I say I have everything handled-”

“Yeah you keep saying that, but Y/N you can’t do everything by yourself-”

“I’m not,I have you don’t I?” You ask.

Your sister shoots you an unreadable blank stare her head facing down as she speaks lowly, “All i’m saying is maybe accepting this man’s proposal wouldn’t be such a bad thing..” She breathes.

You freeze at this, “Are you trying to become a bride?” You say baffled at your sisters sudden attitude, for as long as you could remember your sister did nothing but exclaim about being a chef like your Grandma, absolutely swearing off any type of boy that came her way, saying she had no time to be someone’s housewife, but now she was staring at you with the most crestfallen of faces, all passion deprived of those youthful and ambitious eyes that helped you get out of bed in the morning to face another day, because you wanted nothing more than to help her anyway you could.

“All i’m saying is maybe i’m not cut out to be a chef..I mean I did give you all food poisoning right?” She says her shifting to one of accusation and anger.

“How did you-”

“You weren’t gonna tell me were you?” She cuts you off.

“Marigold your young and you make mistakes-”

“Food posioning an entire staff and my own sister is not a mistake any chef worth knowing should make!” She bites back her voice shaky as tears slowly start to cascade down her face.

Your own anger immerges, “You are not running off to some strange rich man, and you are not quitting this restaurant.” Your tone trembly as you fiercely raised your voice.

She says nothing.

“Do I make myself clear?” You bite.

Nothing.

“I said, DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?” You bite again.

She nods.

“Good, now go tell Sanji what I told you.” You say brushing past her to open the door to usher her out, but once again your stunned to see someone already at the door.

“Sanji.” You breathe.

“Uh..I heard yelling so I came up..” He says looking at the two of you.

Between your angered expression and your sisters tear stained face, you could only imagine the sight the two of you were.

“Well..” You breathe trying to regain your composure, “Did you hear the part about the chili flakes?”

He says nothing, but nods looking worriedly between the two of you.

“Well good, get to it then, best to serve that soup while it’s still piping hot.” You say walking past him before any of them could utter a reply.

A few days later the energetic and very strange Straw Hat Crew was ready to make its departure as your soup had managed to help their friend Nami enough so that they could reach the drum kingdom for further medical assistance.

“THANK YOU SO MUCH CROCK POT LADY FOR SAVING NAMI!” Luffy yells engulfing you in a giant hug that nearly cracked your bones.

“Would you get off her!?” Sanji yells kicking him off of you.

He gets flown off you and you let out a big exhale happy to be able breathe again.

Sanji laughs lightly, “I apologize again for him.” He says softly.

You shake your head, “Eh, he’s kind of rubbed off on me, plus he’s eaten all the leftovers so we haven’t wasted any food.” You shrug.

“Yeah we definitely don’t have to worry about wasting food with Luffy around.”He agrees.

You laugh but smiles warmly, “Well I wish your friend the best of luck I hope she feels better.”

He returns the smile but you could see a certain unease on his face, “Thank you, really for everything, If there’s anything I can do to repay you in the future, if you need any help-”

“Have you been talking to my sister?” You sigh, “We don’t need any help, but thanks for the offer.” You say shutting him down completely.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but it didn’t sound like everything was okay..” He says.

“Financial troubles go hand and hand with restaurants, i’m sure Zeff’s told you that, but thanks to you with this new great review of us in the paper, i’m sure business will pick up soon.”

He looks at you uncertainly but nods anyway, “Well madam, I wish you the best of luck as well someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t have to frown so much.” his tone sincere as he shoots you a playful wink.

“Alright Casanova.” You say rolling your eyes, “I think your captain’s waiting for you.” You say pointing to Luffy looking over at the both of you from the ship.

“SANJI we got to go!” Luffy yells.

“COMING!” Sanji yells back as he turns back to you.

“Well I guess this is farewell.” He says giving you another one of his shiny smiles that reminded you very much of early morning sunrises.

You nod but then remember, “Oh wait, I actually have a parting gift for you.” You say reaching into your rucksacks pocket.

“But you already saved Nami?” He asked confused.

“Yeah, but your going after the all blue right?” You ask.

He nods.

“Well take these with you.” You say handing him a bunch of books, he observes them and quickly realizes what they were, his heart rate picking up as he looks back up at you with a look that almost makes your heart skip a beat as well.

“Are these..?” He says in disbelief.

“My grandmothers healing recipes.” You answered.

He looks beyond bemused as he quickly shakes his head, “ Darling, I cannot possibly accept this, don’t you need them?” He asks.

You shake your head, “I have those in particular memorized by heart, so I figured you can use them on your journey to find the all blue with your friends, but I am going to want those back someday, preferably after you find the all blue and give me some of those rare ingredients.” You cheekily smile.

He’s speechless, “Well how will I find you?”

“Ah, that’s an easy one, here.” You say handing him a blank piece of paper.

“What is it?” He questions looking at it.

“A vivre card, my vivre card in particular so where ever you are in the world, if you wish to seek me out, it’ll point you to where I am.” You explain.

He gently tucks the card in with the recipe books and gently but firmly grasps both of your hands bringing them up to his lips in a gentle kiss that causes you to faintly blush.

“You sure you don’t specialize in desserts with how incredibly sweet you are?” He asks.

You scoff, “Get out of here love cook.”

He smiles mischievously but lets your hands go, “I’ll find it, and bring you back many ingredients, then we’ll cook a great feast together.” He affirms.

You nod feeling a bit mischievous yourself, knowing what you were about to say would get a rise out of the blonde, “Cool, it’s a date.” You say.

He stiffens so much that you swear he turned into a mannequin.

“SANJJIII COME ON!” Luffy yells his arms suddenly stretching from the ship all the way to Sanji, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him onto the already sailing ship.

You laugh as you hear Usopp exclaim, “He’s frozen!!”

“AHH SOMEBODY GET A BLOWTORCH!” Luffy yells.

“How about I Slice the shock out of him!” Zoro deviously says.

“NO!” Both Luffy and Usopp yell.

You shake your head laughing as watch their ship sail further and further not knowing when or if you’d ever see Sanji again, but you held your optimism as you waved them off.

Your suddenly thrown out of your thoughts by a sudden presence behind you, one you hated and have only recently come to fear.

“Did you get the letter?” A deep voice asks behind you.

You frown.

“Yes, and I tossed it in the trash where it belongs, you can’t have my sister.” You say determinedly.

A hearty laugh errupts behind you, “That’s fine, but you need my help don’t you?” He reminds. “I mean how else will you ever be able to keep this restaurant?” He asks.

Your frown only deepens.

“What do you suggest then?” You ask shakily a feeling of dread encapsulating you in a way you hadn’t experienced since your mother died.

“You take her place of course, become my bride.” The mans mischievious dark tone sends chills up your spine.

You shake your head, “Look, I already gave the chef my vivre card like you asked in the letter, why on earth do I have to marry you?!” You spit back.

“Because my dear, I have a good feeling that that Luffy kid is going to lead me directly to the One Piece, and when that time comes, I’m going to need all my bargaining chips, wait don't tell me you actually fell for that pervy cook? He questions sadistically.

“No.. I just don't wanna be a pawn in whatever game your playing.” You hiss.

“No my dear, you of all people should know, your worth so much more than that, you know with all that marijoise blood running through your veins.” He laughs.

You grit your teeth,”Do NOT mention those demons.” You say darkly.

“Okay okay, relax darling, just follow me and I promise you, your sister and restaurant will be in great hands.” He says triumphantly as his rough hand brushes your cheek.

“And why should I trust you?” You say shakily.

You watch as smile widens into one that very much resmebled a cheshire cat.

“Why?” He laughs darkly as a choir of laughs suddenly echo around you as the man’s pirate crew suddenly stands behind him tenfold.

Your heart races not have even sense them approaching.

Your eyes shift back onto him.

He pauses in laughing his face suddenly going completely stoic.

“Because I’m Blackbeard.”

-End?-

Oooh bet you didn't see that coming!! Hey guys so this is the final part of the Served mini story!! I hope you all enjoyed it!! So depending on how well this part does I might turn this into a series!! But I thought this would be a good place to leave it on for now.. ;)

#sanji x reader #one piece sanji #opla sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #one piece luffy #one piece netflix

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girlashfur · 22 days

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Transmisogyny In The Warriors Fandom : The Mothpool Issue

hi, my name is muyang / @girlashfur and i'm a transfeminine being who enjoys the fictional series of warrior cats. i've been into this book series for as long as i can remember, ever since i was a little kid. and growing up with this fandom, i've noticed a reocurring issue among it, which i aim to do a break-down of now.

the issue is transmisogyny. for those who are unaware : transmisogyny is the unique combination and overlap of misogyny and transphobia, specifically targeting transfeminine individuals. it's a widespread issue in just about every corner of the world, even spaces for transgender and otherwise queer individuals seem to have a problem with being transmisogynistic, intentionally or not. the warriors fandom is not exempt from this; and they're not special, either, i'm yet to encounter a popular fictional fanbase that doesn't have several transmisogynists among it's members. but the warriors fandom seems to have a peculiar way of going about it.

to start, i want to clarify that there seems to be...a surprising lack of transfem warriors fans to begin with; i can name about three off the top of my head, not counting myself, compared to hundreds of cisgender, transmasc, or otherwise tme (transmisogyny exempt) fans. perhaps we're just underrepresented, i'm sure there's more of us out there, but nonetheless i'd like to make it clear i'm writing this mainly based off of what i personally have experienced and witnessed in this fandom. my word may not speak for every transfem person, and that's okay.

transmisogyny isn't always violent and obvious; it's not always slurs and misgendering and harrassment, although don't get me wrong, plenty of transmisogynists do engage in such a way. but it can also be a subtle practice, something most tme people would not pick up on. like all systems of oppression, it can also be a learned behavior, one somebody witnesses happen (typically unpunished) and assumes is okay to recreate. one of the ways this can happen is through the objectification and sexualization of transfeminity. stereotypes are a common form of this. oftentimes, transfeminine characters are portrayed as violent and agressive, masculine and gruff, or as suave and predatory womanizers, sometimes a mixture of all three.

the warriors fandom does this often. there are several characters that are commonly headcanoned as transfem by the fandom, and most are victim to being portrayed this way. a few i can think of off the top of my head are cats like russetfur, crowfeather, mapleshade, darktail, tree, and yes...mothwing. mothwing is a bit of a special case, because i believe most people only headcanon her as transfeminine so they can ship her with leafpool (the ship commonly named mothpool) and imagine the two with biological kittens, in some aus, even as the three's parents.

this is a form of objectification already, although one might not catch onto it immediately. mothwing's transness is turned into a token, a special card to be exchanged to fit the fandom's idolized version of the ship. one could argue it could be interpreted as sexualization as well; while the warriors fandom tends to stray away from outright sexual portrayals of the cats (for good and obvious reasons), mothwing being transfem is still only done for the purpose of making her a cat with a penis, so she can have kits.

mothwing isn't canonically a particularly violent or angry cat, nor does she seem to be particularly romantic (she actually doesn't have a canon mate at all, being a medicine cat). however, in fandom based portrayals of her, she's often twisted to fit these stereotypes. sometimes she's designed to be large and masculine with the excuse of it being because she's a tigerkin, or sometimes she's portrayed as being very proud and open about her love of leafpool (who is often portrayed as shy and defenseless, practically hiding behind her). i've seen several aus with transfem mothwing in them "conveniently" include things like her formerly training as a warrior, or killing another cat (such as crowfeather) "for leafpool", or even portraying her as evil, typically falling to the manipulation of her father.

mothpool as a ship isn't really the issue here. it's the fandom's doing. the two have quite a few canon interactions that could be portrayed as romantic, and sure, it's really not my buisness what people ship as long as it's legal and all...but when you get exposed to so much hidden transmisogyny tied to one ship, as a victim of transmisogyny, you grow kinda wary of the ship as a whole. the few transfeminine people i've spoken to about this issue seemed to share my feelings as well. the moment i see a mothpool shipper mention making mothwing trans, i get shivers.

another point i'd like to make clear is that it's not every mothpool shipper doing this either, even out of the ones who do make her trans, i've met a few who portrayed it well and seemed very open and concerned about my views on transfem mothwing as a transfem person. i'm also certainly not saying you should go harrass people for shipping what they want, that's not my point nor is it helpful. as i've mentioned before, there's a good chance some of the people portraying mothpool in harmful ways like this don't fully realize what they're doing, and think it's okay because it's something they've seen before. i don't want those people to think they're bad for falling into those false beliefs, as long as they change them when they realize how they're offensive.

what i'm aiming to do here is give my two cents on why i generally dislike the ship as a transfeminine being myself, and to also spread awareness to why i feel that way. if i can make some people out there rethink some transmisogynist views they had perpetuated before, then my work is done well. as i'm finishing off this little essay of mine, i hope my message was explained clearly and gently, as it should be. see you guys in the next post, muyang out.

#ashie rambles #warrior cats #warriors #waca #long post #transmisogyny #ok to rb #mothpool #<- i feel scared adding that tag but yall need to see it #anyways!! i'm hesitent to post this but idk i'm feeling impulsive i'll do it...hope yall can behave yourselves #if this gets enough traction i might disable replies just for safety

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our-happygirl500-fan · 1 year

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Something I’ve been thinking about is that when the Turtles come up with code names for their family they tend to combine Splinter’s nicknames for them with their special interests.

Meat Sweats: Turtles? Red? Blue? Orange? Purple?

Splinter: Oh, you know their names

Throughout Rise Splinter mostly refers to his son’s as their colours when talking to them, treating their designated colours as nicknames & whenever the Turtles make code names they combine their dad’s nicknames for them with their own special interests by making sure that their designated colours are part of their code names

Donnie: This is Purple Knight is everyone in position

Raph: Red King is set

Donnie: Orange Pawn please use your-

Mikey: What!? Why am I the pawn?

Donnie: Scooch over Hypno, chess is my domain

In the episode Mind Meld, Donnie gives his family Chess Code names showing his interest in Chess but he didn’t simply give them Chess Piece names he combined Chess Pieces with their designated colours when making their code names.

Raph: Yellow Submarine are we clear?

April: Affirmative Red Rover

Raph: Purple Rain, do you see the target?

In the first episode & the episode Bull Hop we see Raph do something similar to Donnie where he combines the families designated colours with his own special interest in music.

Raph: Jumpin’ Jack Flash!

It seems as though Raph has an interest in music even yelling out ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash!’ sometimes in surprise & Jumpin’ Jack Flash is actually a song by the Rolling Stones so that combined with the fact that the codenames Raph came up with are all different song titles it shows that Raph chose code names for his family based off his interest in music.

However Raph didn’t simply choose the song titles of any random song when coming up with code names but instead Raph specifically chose songs with colours in the titles to stick with the nicknames that Splinter gave them.

Though April doesn’t have a designated colour from Splinter the same way the Turtles do, April is often associated with the colour yellow with her often being coloured in yellow in the Rise comics & in the movie her Donnie Pod is yellow as well, so it’s very likely that the Turtles might associate April with yellow the same way they associate themselves with their own colours, which is why Raph gave April the code name Yellow Submarine.

The reason why Raph gave April a code name with a colour might be because Splinter gave the Turtles colour based nicknames so the Turtles might view getting or giving a colour based nickname as a form of affection.

Leo: I’m changing my code name too, uh... Blue Bluey! No... Blue... uh-

Donnie: No! No! No one is changing their code names

Leo: I’m Captain Bluemask

Though we don’t really see Leo make code names for his family whenever Leo tries to come up with a code name for himself he includes the colour Blue, calling himself ‘Captain Bluemask’ in Portal Jacked when he’s trying to sneak onto a pirate ship & though he struggles to make a code name for himself in the episode Mind Meld the one thing he’s sure of is including the colour his dad gave him in his code name.

Though the fact that Leo was easily able to come up with a code name when he had a pirate theme to work off of but struggled to come up with a theme for his codename outside his colour in Mind Meld shows that Leo has a harder time coming up with code names based off his special interests than Donnie & Raph do.

Leo: It’s me, you’re favourite teen detective Leo Splinterson

When Leo comes up with a name that doesn’t include the colour Blue his code name is still obviously influenced by his dad as Leo calls himself ‘Leo Splinterson’

The name ‘Splinterson’ might be a slight nod to the 2003 TMNT series as in the 2003 series the Turtles didn’t use Hamato as their last name since the 2003 version of Splinter wasn’t Hamto Yoshi but instead similar to the Mirage version of Splinter, Spinter in the 2003 series was Hamato Yoshi’s pet rat that learnt ninjutsu from watching him.

The 2003 Turtles used ‘Splinterson’ as their last names because they were Splinter’s sons. Whether or not Rise is referencing the 2003 series when Leo calls himself ‘Leo Splinterson’ in the episode Bad Hair Day doesn’t change the fact that whenever Leo is trying to come up with a code name he’s thinking of Splinter, either putting the colour Blue in his codename because that’s the colour Splinter gave him or simply calling himself ‘Splinterson’ because Splinter is his dad.

Mikey: This is a job for Doctor Delicate Touch

Mikey: Good Morning, I’m Doctor Feelings

Mikey: Doctor Positive! The one whose gonna turn you from bad guy to glad guy!

The only one of the Turtles who really seems to break the convention of basing codenames off of the colours that Splinter gave them seems to be Mikey who instead consistently comes up with Doctor personas for himself.

Though Doctor Delicate Touch & Doctor Feelings ect aren’t exactly codenames it does show a pattern for Mikey to the point where Mikey even calls himself Doctor Rude when he & Raph pretend to be villains in order to crash Ghost Bears wedding in the scrapped season 2 episode Wedding Smashers giving himself another Doctor persona.

The fact that Mikey doesn’t include his colour in the aliases that he comes up with for himself might show that Mikey is the least influenced by Splinter out of his brothers, in contrast Leo might be the most influenced by Splinter because he can’t come up with a name outside the colour that Splinter gave him & when he tries to he still focuses on the fact that he’s Splinter’s son.

Raph & Donnie might be in the middle in regards to Splinter’s influence on them because they still hold onto the colours that Splinter gave them & their family when coming up with codenames but they combine those colours with their own special interests.

#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles #donatello hamato #raphael hamato #april o'neil #leonardo hamato #michelangelo hamato #hamato yoshi #rottmnt #tmnt

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vex91 · 10 months

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Ahn Yujin - You're mine

Pairing: Ahn Yujin x Female Reader

Fandom: IZ*ONE / IVE

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: Hii!!! can i request a ahn yujin one where you are the 7th member of Ive and you have been shipped alot with rei lately so she decided to remind you who you belong to?

Summary: Did you and Rei had to always be so close? Yujin asked herself that everytime she saw you together until she has had enough.

A/N: Jealous Yujinie😳

3rd's POV

Yujin trusted you a lot.

She always knew that and she always made sure to show you it just like she made sure to show you that you can trust her too, that's why she wasn't getting jealous a lot. It was a progress because Yujin was definitely more often jealous when she was younger but with time she started becoming more mature and was able to control her jealousy more.

But there were times that she just had this uncomfortable feeling when she saw you with others.

And one person that became the main source of her rare jealousy lately was Rei. The girl never did anything wrong to her and Yujin loved and adored her just like the rest of her members but the way you and Rei were always so close never really sat well with her, especially after she saw your fans shipping you two.

Ever since then yours and Rei's ship name trended a lot, people always talked about how cute you two looked and made a lot of edits with you two. The continuing whispers and giggles between you two didn't helped Yujin's jealousy either so it grew and grew until one day she has had enough.

You and the rest of your group were preparing for a new comeback which meant long hours of practices and recordings. This and the role of a leader were tough for Yujin so combining this and the jealousy that she felt when she saw you leaning and hugging Rei while watching something on her phone during a break that you all had from the dance practice made her walk up to you and pull you away and into an empty room.

Yujin knew that no one would come there so it was a perfect place for some privacy.

Yujin pushed you gently against a wall and kissed you passionately surprising you and making your unable to process anything. Even annoyed and jealous, Yujin was still gentle with you which added to making you feel million things at once. You were confused by her sudden move but you still kissed her back, causing her to let out a satisfied hum.

Your lips moved together until both of you needed air. Your girlfriend putted her forehead on yours and looked deeply into your eyes. The intensity of ger gaze send shivers down your spine, you took a hold of her hand "W-What was that?" The question caused Yujin to look down and sigh, you somehow got even closer to her and let her hug you even tighter.

After a while of silence Yujin quietly said "I got jealous I guess... All the comments from our fans saying that you and Rei look so good together, that you're meant for each other and the fact that both of you are so close made me lose it" Yujin's words surprised you but you would be lying if you said that you didn't saw the comments.

You looked up at Yujin and gave her a sweet peck on her lips "We look good together and we were meant for each other so don't say otherwise because of some comments. They can say anything they want but that isn't going to change the way I feel and I feel that you're the one for me. Plus I really hope that you're going to make me Mrs. Ahn in the future"

Your girlfriend smiled at your words and kissed the top of your head before starting walking back with you to the practice room. On the way there Yujin looked at you and said "Thank you for everything you said Y/N and you're right about one thing. You're going to be Mrs. Ahn because you're mine and it suits you better than Mrs. Naoi" You laughed at her joke and kissed her cheek making her smile even more.

But she was super serious about making you Mrs. Ahn one day.

#vex writes #ive x reader #ive reactions #iz*one x reader #izone x reader #iz*one reactions #izone reactions #ahn yujin x reader #ahn yujin

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m1d-45 · 1 year

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remorse

-> warnings: spoilers for kazuha story quest as well as general kazuha lore, kazuha’s friend is named tomo for convenience, mention of blood near the end, kazuha attacks you but it’s a brief memory, standard issue imposter sagau things

-> lowercase intended!

tomo was an avid believer in the creator.

most people are to an extent, kazuha included, but it’s more of a soft reverence for him rather than the burning devotion for tomo, whose belief is that the creator didn’t make inazuma for it to be hidden! they didn’t make the shogun for her to do this to her nation!

that combined with his other beliefs sent him to face her. ever a man of faith, he held firm that he was doing the right thing. even as his body fell to the floor and his vision flew into the awaiting grasp of his friend, his heart stood strong.

kazuha carries that faith with his memory, and does his best to honor it just as well. if he finds a pretty flower he’ll drop it at a shrine, always murmuring his friend’s name as he does so. he doesn’t hold you to as high a bar as other do, as high as tomo did, but it’s hard not to be religious in teyvat, where the gods literally walk the earth. he settles for a quiet reverence, and perhaps a prayer that his friend may find peace at your side when the storm winds howl and lightning strikes close.

and then beidou.

who thanks you daily for calm seas, for large hauls, thanks for the life created for her anew.

and he thinks. and thinks a bit more, and decides that well, his life has been remade too, hasn’t it? and like beidou says, he’s a poet, he’s been gifted with a form of creation, hasn’t he? so he starts leaving more than a few folded poems at the on-ship shrine—it’s kept in the back, a little tucked away both for safety and in case the crew has problems with religion or just doesn’t follow, but that just makes it all the easier to slip things onto it.

and he thinks that maybe tomo had the right idea.

so when he hears of an impersonator, somebody who utilizes both magic and their mind to take the place of the highest of gods…. he’s more than upset.

how dare you? how dare you try to take the place of his god- if the entire of teyvat’s god? how dare you try and swindle your way to the top, try to trick and scheme and deceive the innocent beleivers into serving you instead of the creator you fail to even imitate? he hasn’t even met you and he knows that you’re a stale copy, a fragile semblance even with your spells and alchemy, a careful house of cards that he longs to topple.

the alcor is docked in liyue, waiting for a shipment. he’s sitting on an empty crate while beidou leans on it, groaning about the merchant.

”come on! we’re gonna be late, and he had a week to prepare! who is this guy, even, thinking he can do shit like that?”

he’s about to speak—likely to admonish her for swearing when there’s children playing along the docks—when he spots you approaching. you have messy, shaggy hair and a face covered by a blue mask, dressed oddly for somebody in liyue. he doesn’t spot either vision nor weapon on you, but it’s hard to tell. at the very least, you don’t look hostile.

he decides not to get beidous attention, letting you do so as you walk up to her.

“pardon me?”

your voice is rough and coarse, like ore dragged into the light of the sun after growing underground for millennia.

she looks you up and down, deciding that you aren’t the merchant she needs. “what can i do for ya?”

“i w-as told you could provide passage to inazuma?”

she tilts her head. “huh? but the saokoku decree was lifted recently, there should be proper passenger boats leaving every hour.”

you swallow, and kazuha listens to the wind around you.

it’s afraid. apprehensive. tense, like you expect them to turn you down.

which he’s pretty sure beidou’s about to if you can’t save this.

“theyre full, and i heard you were leaving immediately. and besides, everybody knows the alcor’s one of the fastest boats on the waves.”

ah. you’re smart.

beidou laughs. “you’re right about that, kid, we certainly can get you there the fastest! but it ain’t gonna be cheap…”

you brightened, standing a little straighter. the wind lifted into a gentle breeze. “i have mora! na-ame your price.”

while they sorted that out, kazuha inspected your odd character. your voice was rough, strained over certain syllables, and occasionally you’d scratch at the side of your neck. he’d initially assumed that the mask was for anonymity, like shinobu from the arataki clan, but now he thinks it’s more for an illness.

one that could spread throughout the crew.

“well, you’ve got yourself a deal! any problems?” she turned back to kazuha for his verdict, and he checked over you once more.

dirt on your boots, but hands in the pockets of your jacket. you were more relaxed now, the air speaking of possibility.

“you sound sick,” he says simply, and your eyes widen.

“a-ah, i- it’s just disuse. i d-ont really talk often.” the mask lifted in a weak smile, your hand coming up again. the skin there was quickly turning red.

“then if there’s nothing else, welcome aboard, uh- whats your name, again?”

you give a name and dip your head in thanks. “thank you for your k-indness.”

kazuha took up the task of showing you around the boat, for no reason he could explain. you were nice to talk to, funny, and your voice was smooth after youd taken some of the medicine you carried.

you were easy to be around. it was like reuniting with a friend he hadn’t seen in years, an indescribable sense of comfort filling him at your side. you felt like home, like campfire chats around crackling wood, or the soft sound of waves on a shore. a clear sky, a cool breeze over a sun-warmed rock.

he was almost- no, he was sad to see you off, waving goodbye as you rushed onto the docks of ritou.

you would go far. whatever you wanted to do, kazuha was sure you would succeed, and extended you his blessings in your endeavors.

now imagine his reaction when, after settling the deal, beidou brings him a flyer. her jaw is set and her shoulders are tight, and he’s quick to see what irritated her.

it’s you.

the flyer has your posture more intimidating, a long staff in hand, eyes cold and calculated instead of the warm glow he remembered.

but it’s you. undoubtedly. even your picture tries to pull a smile from him- and then he sees the charges below.

and he wants to shiver despite the comfortable air.

how?

how can this be?

how can such a kind soul be so deceptive?

but isn’t that the thing? it says you utilize spellwork- that has to be it, right?

(but how can the wind lie?)

he leaps from the side of the alcor, barely able to tell beidou not to wait for him before he’s gone.

he’s in a confused daze for the next few weeks, constantly on your trail- but the wind guides him in loops.

you’re everywhere.

your aura is permanently in the air, giving him a shot of nothing short of pure bliss before he gets his wits about him.

he’s almost afraid, because the wind doesn’t lie- but it has to be, because you can’t enchant the air- but that’s the only way-

his mind is confused, constantly in a state of conflict, his instincts saying you’re a friend while rational thinking says youre foe. his heart calls for your safety whilst the careful shell around it reminds him of your crimes. of the way you’ve tarnished his god’s name, of the way you’ve disrespected captain beidou and her crew, of the way you took advantage of kindness to serve yourself.

of the way you took advantage of people like tomo.

he’s on a beach, preparing up some fish for dinner in a cave, when the wind suddenly smells sweeter.

it’s the scent he’s been following.

he stands and rushes onto the shore, unsure why he’s not reaching for his blade but not thinking too much about it, looking around. sand slides beneath his feet as he races towards a familiar figure: you.

you—his mind supplies him with the name you gave, but is it even yours? or was it just another layer to the lie?—jump as he approaches, but quickly relax. you slip down the mask to sip at the medicine the same shade as the sky, smiling at him.

“kazuha.”

his skin prickles, suddenly feeling hot just at the way you say his name. it’s so kind, so loving, almost, and any response flies from his mind. it’s so hard to be mad when your voice sounds like silk and the light…

the sun shines on your skin, nearly glowing, outlining every curve and angle of you and with a gentle hand. if you catch the light just right he can catch lines of something yellowed across your skin. it’s odd, he didn’t remember that on the… boat…

the flyer.

right.

you were a criminal.

a criminal of the worst kind.

a fraud, somebody who tried to take advantage of the people, using spells to try and garner attention and wealth from people-

people like tomo.

he grit his teeth and ignored the stab of pain in his chest as he drew his sword.

instantly, every ounce of happiness drains from your figure, replaced by an ice-cold tension that makes him want to shiver despite the warm breeze. “ka..zu…?”

the nickname falling from your lips begs him to reconsider, to stop.

its his last chance to.

“how dare you disgrace the kaedehara name?”

your eyes turn glossy and you back away, shrinking in on yourself. a choked-off sound crosses the short distance between them, and kazuha forced himself to ignore it.

you are not an innocent. the beautiful sunlight across your skin did not mean that you yourself were as good as it, the lovely scenery around you no indication of whatever rot lied in your soul; something that had to be there, for you to try and imitate the creator.

and it was rot. you were rotten, bitter, deceitful, using the magic you’d have to have bought—for no being could grant somebody like you that power—to try and warp mildew into meadows. he had to remember that.

he was being charmed.

and then he’s in liyue.

he’s going to a meeting with ningguang with beidou, where the news is broken.

the normally ever-steady tianquan looks shaken up, asking beidou first for her promise to utilize her crew and connections to spread what she’s about to say as far across liyue as she can.

and then she says it.

and kazuha leaves.

he’s in the crows nest of the alcor—it hasn’t left the harbor in months due to the awful storms over teyvat and the cruel waves—and curled into a ball, hands tangled into his white hair, undoing his ponytail in the process.

he tried to kill you.

he’d had you pinned to the beach- you didn’t even fight back. you’d just laid there, tears beading in your eyes, just staring up at him even as his sword was resting in the hollow of your throat.

he’d-

he’d nearly drawn blood.

he’d almost killed the very god he worshipped.

the shining light in his best friend’s life, the new beginning he’d found alongside his new home with the crux, the-

the flush across his skin whenever you were close, that sense of calm and serenity- of course. it all made sense, now that he put aside his blade.

you were a god.

his god.

and he’d tried to kill you.

he tries to soothe himself—you’re okay, you didn’t hurt them too bad, did you? imagine how the killer feels—but it’s in vain. the very wind turns against him, biting and cold despite the warm sun, and he’s shivering.

shaking, about to cry, because you… you were only seeking a new opportunity. you wanted another chance. you just wanted to live- ningguang had said your memory was likely damaged if even there at all, you didn’t even know you were a god at all. you didn’t even understand the nature of your sins, you didn’t understand the world you were in in any form, you didn’t understand why you were being chased, persecuted, hunted.

and kazuha, alongside the entire world, had decided that was a crime punishable by death.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin sagau #sagau #kaedehara kazuha #sagau kazuha #spoilers under the tags’ ‘see all’ button be warned #hi hello welcome to spoiler territory: did you know you can find tomo’s grave ingame #tp to the artifact domain by narukami shrine and head east to the little gorge #head south down the gorge #who cares if nobody reads these bc they’re my tags and i get to infodump all i wanna #within the archive #specifically the ‘living beings -> wildlife’#you can find cats. nearly all are named ‘[descriptor] cat’ with the exception of one: the pure white cat #the pure white cat entry in the archive is simple named ‘sapphire’.#= their cat is now named sapphire in my mind #i hope you have learned something today even if it’s just ‘midas collects and reads archive entries unironically’

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