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edasnest · 3 years

Note

Might you have any Raeda headcanons you'd be willing to share?

Oh shit I didn’t see that you sent this to me until now oh man.

But you better believe I’ve got some Raeda headcanons >:D

[Spoilers for Eda’s Requiem and Knock Knock Knockin on Hooty’s Door! Also a little bit of a character study regarding those eps lol]

Raine is constantly in awe of Eda. Eda’s desire to learn every kind of magic and buck tradition and societal norms sometimes leaves them breathless. When they were young, Raine always admired Eda for the clever pranks she’d pull using different kinds of magic despite being in the potions track. They also admired Eda’s boldness when it came to standing up for herself and her sister.

Eda found Raine to be interesting considering they were in the bard track despite their stage fright, but once Eda watched them perform and saw how they’d lose themself in the music was, no pun intended, magical. They had a fierce grip on Eda’s heart and she didn’t know why; she was fascinated by Raine and made it her goal to be best friends with this oddly shy bard (which she achieved pretty quickly).

After Eda’s curse caused her to unintentionally disable her dad, she was terrified of what it would mean if she was caught off guard like that again. So she started putting up walls. No stressful situations, no hard conversations, no sudden bright lights or loud sounds that she wasn’t the cause of. If she could be in control of her surroundings, she could control the Owl Beast. The elixir she’d discovered that could keep the curse’s side effects at bay helped maintain her sanity and her chill demeanor, but Raine was able to tell she was always slightly on edge. Raine knew about the curse; after Eda had transformed on the Grudgby field the first time everyone had been talking about it, but they didn’t know the extent of it. Everyone just said she’d turned into a monster and then fled; but what kind of monster?? But every time Raine tried to get more information about it, Eda would brush it off and change the subject. It broke their heart watching Eda brush off something that was clearly bothering her, and eventually it all came to a head. She was lying more and more often to Raine and they just couldn’t take it anymore. What happened to their best friend??? Why would she lie to them????? It was maddening and all the frustration and aching in their heart became too much. They needed to focus on something other than Eda. They weren’t nearly as bold as Eda, even after all these years, so they joined the Bard Coven in order to start teaching and building a career for themself. They’d happily welcome Eda back if she’d just tell them what was going on. But it never happened. Burying themself into their work and then, eventually, into the BAtTs helped keep the heartache at bay, but only sometimes.

Eda and Raine caught glimpses of each other as the years passed. They’d spot one another in the market or Raine would see a flash of unmistakable ginger hair dashing around a corner; sometimes they’d hear Eda yelling at some Coven guards and quietly hope she’d make her escape. Eda would occasionally see posters advertising a performance starring Raine; she’d either buy a ticket or sneak in just to listen to them play again. She could never stay for very long though because listening to them play made her heart hurt so much she’d be at risk of turning into the Owl Beast. Raine grabbed one of Eda’s wanted posters and keeps it hidden under some other paperwork in their desk, pulling it out sometimes and going over every detail of the artist’s rendition of her. One day, a new wanted poster came out - this one with a weird skull dog now part of the image and the bounty having increased significantly. Raine would always smirk whenever they saw the new version, although they were alarmed the first time they saw her drawn with all-grey hair. When had that happened? They weren’t that old yet, right??

The day Eda saved the BAtTs and figured out Raine’s secret was maybe the best day Raine had had in years. Their best friend was talking to them again, helping them with their plot. Raine didn’t bother pushing Eda about the last 20 years; their last conversation proved enough that Eda didn’t like it when people pried. But Eda had become not just older, but so much more kind and open. To a degree that sort of shocked Raine. When they asked Eda if she had nothing to lose and Eda took their hand, it was like they’d gone back in time. As if they were both 20 again and daydreaming about a world they’d create for themselves where covens weren’t there to shackle witches down and stage fright didn’t exist; where Eda’s curse never happened and they could stay there on that hill forever.

Eda of course was warring with her own emotions during all of this; she was under the impression that everyone in her life was leaving her again. And not because she was pushing them away this time, but of their own volition. She got her big sister back only for her to go back home to their parents after just a few weeks. She overheard King talk about leaving to find his dad and her apprentice - the first person to ever break down all of Eda’s defenses and show her how to love again - was constantly working on ways to go back to her own home. Eda would be left with Hooty and Owlbert and absolutely nobody else and that hurt so much more than she cared to admit. So when Raine showed up in the town square with their BAtT mask on, using their magic to turn some coven guards into bumbling fools, Eda was a little shell-shocked. The first person to leave her of their own volition was right there in front of her and needed help. So she helped them. And when she became invested in their plots to free wild witches, she felt like she was a teenager again, plotting out pranks with Raine in her secret shortcuts room at Hexside, blushing at every interaction they had because even after all this time, Raine was still Raine. Her Rainstorm. It was like she was starting over, like the last 20 years had faded away, except they hadn’t. Because Luz and King were competing in a race that she needed to be there for. Her past and her present were all different types of painful but finding Raine like this again gave her so much hope! Until she realized she wouldn’t see the end of that race, not if it meant stopping Belos. And she was ready for that, ready for the pain to just stop already, but Raine wouldn’t let her.

Losing Raine again was so much worse the second time. But what they said stayed with her and Eda needed to get back to King and Luz. So when she got back and discovered they’d lost, of course her first thought was to help them. Anything to take her mind off of what she’d just lost. And when King announced that he wasn’t leaving at all, he was legally changing his name? She was “stuck” with him forever? That was too much and she just couldn’t hold it in anymore. Someone wasn’t leaving her. In fact he was legally binding himself to her. No one was leaving, at least not any time soon. Eda definitely still cried more that night after King and Luz had gone to bed.

In the future, Eda and Raine agree to start from scratch: Eda explains the curse to them in detail, all the things she’s learned about it over the years and specifically with Luz and King and Hooty’s help. She explains that Lilith was the one that gave it to her to begin with and why (Raine is appalled like???? Raine specifically worked with Lilith in that last year before they had been made head of the Bard Coven?? And Lilith showed maybe irritation at best at the mention of Eda, so like?? What the fuck???). Eda also explains how she’s come to accept the curse as something that’s part of her and the history the Owl Beast has that she got a glimpse of which is super intriguing to Raine. Also Harpy Eda was a thing which was maybe the most surprising part of it all.

Raine in the meantime tells Eda about their time working their way up the ranks of the Bard Coven, how they met each of the BAtTs and recruited them, the façade they had to maintain to stay on track to become the head of the Bard Coven (something that greatly impressed Eda given Raine’s history with being an awkward actor).

Eda introduces Raine to Luz and King to which both of them start shooting rapidfire questions at them and overwhelm them pretty quickly. Eda has to shoo the two away before Raine just bursts out laughing, saying something about how they’re definitely Eda’s kids (all of them blush while Raine is laughing). Luz is just as fascinated with Raine’s Bard magic as Eda was when they first met and the similarities between the two are striking. Raine tells Eda as much later on and Eda begins gushing about what a great apprentice Luz is and everything she’s done during her time on the Boiling Isles.

They fall easily back into dating once they reconnect properly and everything’s calmed down a little - Raine will still be humming a piece they’re working on and suddenly grab Eda and begin dancing to the tune, Eda laughing the whole time and making their heart soar. Eda will still play with Raine’s earring when they’re cuddled up together just chatting. Raine will start asking Eda again for her opinion on musical pieces they’re working on and Eda will make suggestions along with some jokes or snide commentary. They both still love watching the clouds overhead on their hill, sometimes playing music, sometimes just holding hands.

Raine loves watching Eda interact with Luz and King. They love watching how easily Eda loves them and how much she’s changed since they first broke up. Once they’re alone together, in a moment total admiration for how far they’ve come, Raine tells Eda they love her. Eda immediately kisses them and starts crying, repeating Raine’s words back to them and mumbling about how she’ll never let Raine leave ever again.

A canon Non-binary love interest to a main character that uses They/Them pronouns??? In my kids cartoon???? It’s more likely than you think.

Anyways I fucking love Raine and I love how much Eda and Raine love each other and I can’t wait to see what ends up happening with Them™️

#180 degree head tilt (ask tag)#l-gionaire #toh headcanons #edalyn clawthorne #eda clawthorne #raine whispers #raeda #toh spoilers #hey what’s up it’s been five million years since I’ve posted any headcanons to this blog huh?#thank you l-egionaire for carrying the weight of the fandom on your back with your prompts

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kpopmalereader · 3 years

Text

a sign ; kim namjoon

• summary: namjoon’s first impression of you is negative but he begins to warm up to you after learning more • pairing: kim namjoon x deaf!reader • word count: 3141 • to do

“Excuse me,” Hoseok jogs forward a few steps ahead of the others.

You don’t budge, keeping your steady pace forward. He turns around, arms spread in a perfect “What do I do now?”

Namjoon moves forward, clapping Hoseok on the shoulder. “Excuse me, do you know-”

He trails off when you continue moving. He nods his head. “I guess we’ll find the new building ourselves.”

Namjoon and Yoongi don’t let it get to them. Hoseok, however, immediately begins to mumble. He mutters about ignoring them, the building change, waking up so early, about-

The other two manage to disregard his complaints; all of it is due to him staying up too late to wake up for an 8 am class. Namjoon pulls his phone out to search for the best way to the brand-new building. They attempt to take a shortcut through a building, but a third of the way realizes there is no way out. Which means Namjoon and Yoongi have to listen to more of Hobi’s whining, adding in having to walk back through the building and finding a new route to their class on to his growing mountain of complaints.

“Why did they have to change the rooms around? Why build a new building in the middle of the semester? It makes no sense.” Hoseok leans onto Yoongi as he walks. He whines loudly and drags Yoongi even closer to the ground. “And that boy probably knew the way, and he didn’t tell us! He probably knew we couldn’t go through that way. He didn’t even look at us when we asked!”

Yoongi shoves Hoseok off. Hobi stumbles into a bush and crosses his arms.

“He ignored us!”

“He ignored you.” Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Maybe because he knew you were going to be a pain. “He probably had headphones in or something.”

“He definitely did not have headphones in!”

Namjoon walks ahead of the bickering pair, paying no real attention to the words shared between them.

As he continues on his way, he notices you. You stand at a crosswalk a decent way in front of them. You look left, right, and left again twice before finally walking across. It doesn’t look like you have any headphones in, but Namjoon isn’t going to mention that or you.

Luckily for Namjoon, on the longer-than-expected walk, the bickering turns into a conversation as Hoseok works past his annoyed sleepiness. Namjoon finally leads them to the new building, and Yoongi opens the door.

Namjoon sees you once more, leaning back in a rolling chair at the front of the room with your phone in your hand. Hoseok gasps as he sees you, eyes squinting in on your frame. You are wearing headphones this time, which Yoongi gladly points out.

“He wasn’t wearing those before!” Hoseok whisper-yells the words and starts to stomp his feet before realizing that might seem a bit immature. He takes two of the steps it would take to get to the front of the classroom before the door opens behind them.

The Professor walks past the three. She notices you at the front but, once again, you don’t pay any attention. “Hello everyone, sorry about the sudden change of room. Please find a seat if you haven’t already.”

Hoseok settles down, thinking over if he would have said or done anything had he gone over. He probably would have chickened out anyway.

Professor Sun walks closer to you, and you finally look up, face breaking out into a smile rivaling stars in the sky. You pull your headphones off and wave excitedly. You stand up, and she holds her hand out, pausing you. Everyone settles down, and Professor Sun joins you upfront. Namjoon watches as your eyes search around the room. He notices you take in every detail before you settling your eyes on the Professor.

“So,” She starts talking, holding her hands in front of her. She begins to sign as she speaks. “As everyone may know, I am a licensed sign language interpreter. And, as you would not know, this is Y/N. I was his interpreter for roughly ten years.”

“He’s deaf.” Yoongi and Namjoon whisper simultaneously. They both look at Hoseok, who has the decency to look embarrassed.

You smile and nod your head as she speaks. Your eyes are vivid, glancing around the room when Professor Sun pauses in speaking.

“I’ve taught a few signs, just basic ones. No one in this class is fluent in sign language, but there will be moments in your lives where you have to wade blindly through a conversation. You won’t always speak the same language, you won’t always have the same opinions or the same nonverbal cues, and you have to figure out a way to get past that.”

“This is an exercise I do with all of my communications courses, though it is the first time Y/N will be helping us here.” Professor Sun gestures to you, and you wave to everyone. “You will be attempting to communicate with a deaf individual. You will have to convey your questions and sentences to him while deciphering his answers and thoughts. Some of you will be great at this immediately, some of you will need to work on it more, but that is why we are here. I’ll be in the back of the room but will only step in if I feel any of you are completely lost.”

She lets you have the floor, making her way to the back of the classroom. You smile at the class. You sign “Hello,” and rock up on your toes. You start to introduce yourself, fumbling slightly, and it’s obvious (at least to Namjoon) that you’re used to signing much faster. You clasp your hands together, looking around the silent classroom. You search the room for anyone wanting to add anything but come up short. You breathe out and tap your hands together.

Yoongi is the first to breach the unknown. He raises his hand, and you latch on, nodding your head quickly. Yoongi signs slowly, even slower than you were signing. “What is your sign name?”

You nod, and Namjoon hopes he isn’t delirious when he notices a small redness peek out from your shirt. You bring your hands to your face, moving both of your pointer fingers up from the middle of your mouth to your cheeks. You’re drawing your smile. You repeat it once more and nod your head.

The silence returns. You point to Professor Sun before it has a chance to become more awkward.

“Her sign name,” You hold a fist above and just to the right of your head. You rotate your wrist and extend your fingers, wiggling them out like sun rays.

Everything you have said is basic. Typical greetings and an answer to one question, but Namjoon feels intoxicated. He’s not sure why. It all feels like a mystery to him, but you’re drawing him in with every second. In a way he can’t fathom. Is he merely trying to understand you better? Or is he being pulled in by your face?

With every other guest the Professor has brought in, Namjoon is the first to ask questions, get to know them, but now he’s nervous. He doesn’t want to ask a stupid question. He wants to understand you, wants you to understand him. He wants you to see that he is trying, appreciate his efforts, and maybe pay more attention to him.

He gets out of his stupor just in time to see you point to Professor Sun. He didn’t catch the question someone asked, too invested in watching you.

“I,” Your hand forms a flat O-Shape, and you push your hands towards the Professor. Gave? “Gave her the sign name.”

Namjoon doesn’t wait for the class to return to silence and raises his hand. You light up and nod quickly, full attention on him. He revels in the attention. “Who gave you the name sign?”

“An old teacher gave me the name. She was my favorite, favorite.” You point at yourself and repeat your sign name. “I smile-”

Namjoon isn’t completely sure of what the sign means, but, given the context, he assumes it means “often.” You roll your eyes at yourself, but that doesn’t wipe the smile from your face.

He raises his hand again, and you nod. He thinks for a second, not knowing the sign for “born.” He spells out the word and looks at you. You demonstrate the movement, repeating it twice. He appreciates it and nods his head, thinking over his question.

“Were you born deaf?”

A slightly confused expression takes over your smile, and you tilt your head left and right. Your nose is scrunched in a way that makes Namjoon’s heart hammer against his chest. You point to your right ear and clap next to it. You make a poof-motion with your hand, effectively showing you can’t hear anything in that ear.

You point to your left and wave your hand in a “somewhat.” “I was born with half hearing in this ear, but now I hear very, very little.”

Namjoon nods along with everything. Yoongi and Hoseok are forgotten next to him, but they watch his immersed expression. The class goes back to the quiet, and Namjoon waits a moment before raising his hand again.

Your sign name rings true. It’s obvious why everyone would associate you with smiling. He doesn’t think he could ever grow tired of the soft smile, the appreciative look at every question and comment, or having your full attention, even if it’s on his not-the-best signing.

“Do you like music?”

You slap your hand over your heart. “I love,” The word has more emphasis than anything else you’ve signed. “Music. Deep sounds, loud and bone-shaking.”

“What’s your favorite band?” He doesn’t wait before asking this time.

Your eyes go wide, and you freeze. You think for a few seconds before signing band after band. Namjoon catches the first few but soon cannot differentiate between the ones you’re rattling off. You go into words Namjoon can’t define about the bands you love, no one besides Professor Sun can understand the extent of what you’re saying. Your smile morphs into a warm and welcoming smile, drawing Namjoon in and making him never want to stop the conversation.

You seem to realize you were signing very quickly and for longer than you expected, and you clasp your hands together, chewing on your bottom lip.

Professor Sun clears her throat and begins to speak, signing to you as she does so. “He will play music louder than anyone I’ve ever met. Even other Deaf people will say he plays it too loud.” You look at her, and as you roll your eyes, she rolls her right back at you. “I’ve only been in a car with him once. When I got in, the volume was at 74. If you get within a 3-meter radius of him, you can hear the music he plays even with his headphones over his ears. When I first met him, he would carry around a tiny speaker and hold it as tightly as he could to feel the vibrations.”

You stand at the front of the room, becoming more and more embarrassed and cheeks growing increasingly redder as Professor Sun speaks. You gesture for everyone to get back to asking questions looking everywhere but at the Professor.

Days pass after your visit with Professor Sun’s class. Though Namjoon has tried, nothing can get his mind off of you. He spent the entirety of his day after the class learning signs and researching everything he could about the Deaf/Hard of Hearing Community. He’s sure Professor Sun noticed his interest in you, as she was the one he emailed with questions about the Community, about signs, and everything he thought wasn’t too weird to ask about you.

She told him it was fascinating he developed such a liking for the language and the Community, as she thought no one cared much for it after her initial talks about it. He didn’t reply to that, but he did solidify her thinking when he asked if you would ever stop by the class again. (Professor Sun told you that a few select students had an interest in talking to you more but didn’t drop any names).

Now, with four days of Namjoon looking up signs and practicing his finger-spelling nonstop without knowing if he would see you again, he spots you outside one of the campus buildings. You’re bundled in a jacket, cold air making your nose glow red. Your face is angled up towards the sky, letting what little warmth from the sun engulf your face in a way that is all too ethereal for Namjoon’s sanity. One of your legs is bouncing restlessly, but you maintain a blissful smile on your face.

Namjoon wants nothing more than to strike up a conversation with you, but your closed eyes and calm presence keep him in his place. Questions form and bounce around in his head. What if he walks up and scares you? What if you don’t want to talk to him? What if he can’t understand you and you don’t understand him, and the conversation he’s been hoping to have is awkward and clunky, and you wish it never happened? What if he gets a sign wrong and insults you or says something embarrassing? What if-?

You open your eyes slowly as a cloud covers the beam of sun you were previously reveling in. You stand and gather your things, checking the time on your phone.

Namjoon’s feet begin to move forward without him telling them to. His heart overwhelms his brain’s worries. He gulps and wipes his clammy hands, pretending not to have been watching you for far too long for comfort.

As he gets closer to you, a deep and woodsy, yet still sweet scent hits your nose. You follow the smell and find yourself making full eye contact with Namjoon. He looks familiar, but you can’t quite put your finger on it as he begins to speak.

“Hi.” He realizes he’s not signing and widens his eyes, bringing his hands up. “Hello.”

“Hello.” You repeat. Your smile is friendly but slightly tense. You’re searching for where you know him from.

“I’m a student with Professor Sun.” He signs slowly, hands stiff.

The pieces come together in your head, and you nod quickly, confusion wiping from the smile. “You asked questions!”

“Yeah! Yeah, I had questions.” He tries to remind himself that he needs to sign, as he doesn’t know how good of a lip reader you are and wants you to get his full sentiment. “I liked your stories. It was interesting.”

“Thank you! Thank you.” Your smile is dazzling. Namjoon wants the image to be burned inside his brain forever. “I liked your questions. Your class was quiet. Nobody asking questions made me nervous, but you helped a lot.”

He nods his head. “I think you made us nervous.”

Your eyes widen comically, and you shake your head. “Me?”

He nods his head again, a laugh bubbling out when you shake your head at an even more significant speed. “Yes.”

“Why?” You sign the question incredulously like it’s the most surprising thing you’ve ever thought.

He doesn’t answer for a second. He knows why he was nervous and didn’t ask questions at first, but you don’t need to know that, and he’s not sure why everyone else was quiet for so long.

“I think you have that effect.” He signs it without hesitating any further.

You look like you don’t understand the sentence for a few seconds, and he repeats it. You realize he was intending to say what he did and slowly sign “Thank you.” You scratch the back of your neck and look at the ground, ears becoming pink. Something about you being flustered and nervous in front of him with that simple and very genuine compliment gives more confidence than he’s ever had before.

“I know why your sign name is a smile, but I think it also needs something else.” You tilt your head to the side, waiting for him to continue. The look makes him nervous, but he realizes it’s too late to turn back now, so he reaches up and signs the word. “Beautiful.”

He can almost in your eyes as you decipher the word. Your face turns from a smile to blushed shock. You cover your face with your hand, though he can see the ever-growing dark blush and small smile reappearing. You giggle softly and dart your eyes away, everything about you knocking the wind out of Namjoon’s chest. The full eye contact you would generally make disappears completely.

“Thank you.”

He bites his lip and leans closer, snatching your attention from the trees and sky and anything else behind him. “Do you have another class today?”

You shake your head slowly, a flurry of hope and optimism for what might come next crashing behind your beautiful eyes. Namjoon smiles at the apparent expectation, and his face warms at your reaction to his interest.

He breathes in, thinking over the questions he’s practiced for four days now. He attempts to unravel the bundle of nerves in his stomach and settles on the least daunting question. “Are you hungry?”

Your eyes light up. If they were to shine any brighter, they would be spotlights. You nod. “Do you like the café?”

“Yeah, I do. Do you go there often?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Not too often. I like it there, though, if it’s okay with you.”

“Definitely,”

Namjoon escorts you to the café, opening the door for you. You walk in with a smile. When you believe you’re out of his eyesight, you widen your eyes and breathe out, attempting to relax your shoulders. The clerk at the desk notices you enter and waves for you.

You smile and walk closer, giving a small wave. “Hi.”

“Hello, do you want your-”

Namjoon doesn’t know what the next sign is, but you nod your head.

“Come here often?” Namjoon asks you. You smile and gesture to Namjoon, waiting for him to order.

“Oh, right.” He orders, trying not to make direct eye-contact with the cashier. You seem to know who is very-much sizing him up. You walk up to a table next to the window, pushing the salt and pepper shakers to the edge of the table. “How often do you come here?”

“Two people here know Sign.” You shrug your shoulders and smile at him. “It’s nice having someone to talk with.”

He nods his head, feeling fondness growing in his chest. You lean forward, cheeks turning red before the words even come out of your mouth.

“Like you. I like talking to you.”

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celestialtitania · 3 years

Text

Une Rose Pour Toi

Thank you to CoffeeBanana for betaing. Written for Day 3: Dirt of Marichat May. Can also read on AO3. @marichatmay

Marinette waved to Alya as her best friend took her sisters back home so that she could leave her sisters with Nora and get to her date with Nino.

"It was nice to get ice cream with Alya," Tikki piped up, making Marinette giggle.

"I'm sure you thought so," She teased her kwami, making Tikki giggle. There was no end to Tikki's sweet tooth and they both knew it. "Come on, let's take the shortcut through the park."

They were halfway across the park when Marinette noticed something rather peculiar. "Why is everyone staring over there?" People were watching and whispering to each other about something that was happening in the farthest part of the park.

"I don't know but we'd better check it out!" Tikki responded and Marinette nodded back at her resolutely. She quickly ran to see what was so curious, only to stop and stare herself.

"Chat Noir?" Marinette's jaw dropped. The feline superhero was digging holes in the darkest corner of the park, shovel in hand. He paused to look up at her, a grin overtaking his face when he saw her.

"Marinette!" He waved excitedly before pausing. "Um, hello civilian. What are you doing here?"

Marinette resisted the urge to roll her eyes. What was the point of calling her a civilian after he'd already called her by name? "I'm heading home, what are you doing with that shovel?"

Chat Noir looked between her and the shovel, seeming nervous.

"Don't tell me you're here to collect some squirrel you buried," Marinette joked, making Chat Noir laugh out loud.

"It's a bird, actually," he whispered conspiratorially. "It's a present for Ladybug, you think she'll like it?"

Marinette was torn between laughing and groaning. "It better not be a pigeon, you wouldn't want to deal with Mr. Pigeon again," she decided to joke back.

"I like you, Marinette. You're clawfully amewsing," he complimented.

"Two puns in one sentence? You clearly take the whole cat thing very seriously." Chat bowed to her and Marinette shook her head. "Don't think I don't realize you're trying to distract me. What are you actually up to?"

Chat hesitated before sighing. "Oh, alright. I'll tell you since you were the only one brave enough to ask." He moved over to reveal a row of plants. "Rose bushes, I've always wanted a garden of my own."

"I didn't know cats could keep gardens," Marinette joked, her eyes still on the plants. "Why roses?"

"I'll have you know that cats are expert gardeners," Chat Noir sniffed. He bent down to run his fingers across one of the leaves of the rose bush. "As for why the roses," Chat bit his lip, clearly looking for a way out of telling her.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," Marinette told him. She didn't want to pressure him into revealing his secrets to her.

He gave her a soft smile before shaking his head. "No, if it's you then I don't mind saying it." Marinette blinked before moving closer to Chat and laid a hand on his shoulder. She was privately quite touched that her civilian self had made such a good impression on Chat that he was willing to put so much trust in her.

"These are my mother's favourite flowers, you see. I wanted to plant them in her memory. You see, I'm not really allowed to spend time in the garden at home, but I really wanted to be the one who takes care of them."

"Oh, Chat, that is so sweet of you," Marinette flung her arms around Chat Noir, trying to provide him with as much comfort and support as she could.

"Thanks, Marinette." Chat sent her another smile and Marinette would deny it to the ends of the Earth, but in that moment, her heart skipped a beat. She let go of him and turned around, only to almost fall into one of the holes Chat Noir had dug.

"Woah!" She teetered on the edge, managing to get her balance just in time. "Chat! Why are these holes so big?" She squatted to see just how wide it was and was even more surprised to see how deep the hole was. "These are for planting bushes? This is almost 30 cm deep!"

"Yeah?" Chat sounded puzzled. "Why what's wrong? Isn't this how you're supposed to do it?"

Marinette stared at him. "Um...have you ever gardened before?" Chat shook his head, looking completely lost.

"You decided to plant several rose bushes by yourself without researching or anything when you've never done it before?" Chat Noir looked down for a moment before giving her a pleading look, clearly asking for help. Marinette bit her lip before sighing. "Oh, alright. I'll help."

Chat gave a sigh of relief. "Thanks! You're really doing your good seed of the day!"

Marinette rolled her eyes at him. "Herb your enthusiasm, you'll have to do everything I say." Chat Noir looked delighted at her pun and gave her a mock salute. "Now, fill those holes in about halfway."

"Are you sure?" Chat frowned at her.

Marinette responded by putting her hands on her hips and leaning towards him. "I'm sorry, between the two of us, who has the most experience in gardening?" Wisely, Chat Noir stopped arguing and began to do as Marinette ordered.

Marinette allowed herself a victory smirk before she got to work, helping Chat make the holes an appropriate depth.

"Okay, since you really want to do this yourself, I'll show you how to do one and you can do the rest. Is that okay with you?"

Chat Noir nodded eagerly. "Thistle be the best rose bushes ever," he declared.

"Of course, we're rooting for them," Marinette said, carefully peeling the plants away from the plastic pots they were bought in.

"You're becoming a real punner, Marinette! I'm so proud," Chat pretended to wipe away a tear.

"Well, you know what they say, If you can't beet them, join them," Marinette shrugged.

"You can call us the puns 'n' roses now," Chat continued. Marinette shook her head at him.

"C'mon, let's get this done. You can pun more later." Chat nodded, obviously planning on holding her to it. He watched carefully as she placed the rose bush into one of the holes they had dug and covered it with the leftover soil.

Then she watched as he did the same with other roses. Soon enough, all of the roses had been planted. "Now we just have to water them."

"Lucky us, then. I think it's going to rain soon." Chat pointed towards the growing storm clouds. He beamed at Marinette as he rested his weight on the shovel. "Garden, you glad we're done? Just in thyme, too."

"This was fun, Chat Noir. Thanks for letting me help," Marinette smiled at him warmly.

"No, thank you, Marinette. You really rose to the occasion." Gesturing at her to wait, he turned to get something out of a bag. He turned back around to her with a single white rose in hand. "For you."

Marinette had spent some time researching the meaning of roses after Chat had gone on about finding the perfect colour for her as Ladybug. She knew perfectly well that a single white rose represented love and respect.

"You're awesome, Marinette. I'm glad to have spent the day with you," Chat smiled, taking her hand and enclosing the rose in it. Marinette was floored.

"There's no one I'd have rather spent the day planting roses with, Chat Noir." She leant forward to press a quick kiss to his cheek, before waving goodbye at him.

Chat stared at her for a moment before waving back. Marinette bit back a grin as she turned around.

"That was interesting," Tikki giggled at her from her purse.

Marinette smiled warmly at her kwami as it began to drizzle. "It most certainly was, Tikki."

#miraculous ladybug #ml #ml fic #my fic #marichatmay2021 #marichat may 2021 #marichat may #day 3: dirt #marichat #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #ml tikki #fluff #puns #gardening #roses

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silenthillmutual · 4 years

Text

daniil dankovsky is autistic and here’s why:

because i’m autistic and i said so

i kid, obviously. what sort of autistic person would i be if i wasn’t read to back up my silly little claim with an overly long post of evidence a total of three people will read? (hi ned hi jordan hi raven :))

i’m aware that this is cringey because adults aren’t supposed to have autism or interests or talk about either of those things, but this is my blog and you are free to block me if the cringe is too much for you.

these are some things i picked out from the DSMV’s diagnostic criteria, found on the CDC website:

deficits in social-emotional reciprocity

reduced sharing of interests, emotions, or affect

abnormal social approach

abnormalities in eye contact and body language

defecits in […] understand[ing] relationships

difficults adjusting behavior to suit various social contexts

repetitive motor movements or speech

rigid thinking patterns

highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus

hyper- or hyporeactivity to sensory input

there’s also some misc. stuff not in the diagnostic criteria (though it may be in the adir or gars-3) i thought was worth noting.

important note from the diagnostic criteria: “symptoms cause clinically significant impairment in social, occupational, or other important areas of current functioning”. i’d say that in his case, they do.

spoilers for pathologic classic, pathologic 2, and the marble nest

deficits in social-emotional reciprocity

in bachelor route of classic, daniil

seems completely oblivious to eva making advances toward him, to the point where she complains to him that he’s ignoring her in favor of asking questions about simon.

seems surprised when people mention maria being in love with him, despite outright asking her a couple of times if she’s flirting with him.

not to mention the fact that he asks her that at all.

his inability or resistence to making connections with others is typically considered one of his character flaws. although it is not outright stated in the dsmv criteria, one trait of autism and other neurodivergencies is “having extremely high or extremely low empathy” - and daniil, despite being a doctor, lacks empathy. which is not to say he doesn’t care at all. i think that he does, but is terrible at showing it.

for example, this scene from marble nest:

Sticky: You must feel terrible… right? That’s fine. I forgive you. You just got confused… Adults always do. Daniil: Oh yes, adults are always occupied with the most asinine nonsense. Like feeling anxious that a bunch of urchins keep roaming the streets, putting themselves in mortal danger!

daniil clearly cares about sticky’s wellbeing (and the wellbeing of the kids looking after him, though he’s not cognizant that he’s in a coma), but his way of showing it is… kind of by being a jerk. all of which bleeds into the next item on the list

reduced sharing of interests, emotions, or affect

he has no problem sharing his interests, but in both pathologic classic & pathologic 2, daniil speaks with a flat affect - which is to say that he lacks intonation. the words we read him saying may be dramatic or come across as passionate, but the actual voice reading his lines is very monotone, which may contribute to being read as lacking emotion.

and in pathologic 2, he has a voiceline lamenting not telling “her” (eva?) how he felt

in marble nest, he’s teased by the tragedians for being “heartless”:

Tragedian: Maybe. Possibly. But it’s useless to explain to a heartless man. …Take heart, Excellency! If you ever find it, that is. And then come back to us… Even though it all sounds like a rather implausible turn of events.

abnormal social approach

daniil has a tendency to say things that are tactless, odd, or just socially inappropriate. i probably don’t need to point out too many examples, as i think it’s fairly obvious - these are the things people love to pick at when it comes to him, but i do have a few in mind. like, for example, from haruspex route in classic:

Haruspex: What of the antibodies essential for making a serum? Bachelor: I don’t know for sure yet, I’ll send you a report in a few hours. Don’t go about cutting people’s hearts out for your panacea until then. It’s a… controversial solution, you know… Haruspex: What?! Do you even hear yourself? Bachelor: Sorry! I meant no offence… it was just a momentary lapse of… well, you know. Haruspex: None taken.

until artemy points out, daniil doesn’t seem to be aware he just said something rude. even with therapy, picking up on social cues doesn’t come naturally to people with autism, so we tend to say things that come across as rude or strange to others without realizing we’ve put them off. we tend to lack a “filter” that tells us when things are or are not appropriate to say. even when we may recognize it, the rules may not make any sense to us. for example, it makes very little sense that allistics favor politeness over honesty.

i think the glaringly obvious abnormal social approach in pathologic 2 is him threatening to hold artemy at gunpoint to get in the house, which is just overkill, but my personal favorite comes on day 7, when he’s complaining about the orders aglaya has given him. artemy stops him to say he doesn’t understand what daniil wants from him, to which daniil replies:

From you? Oh, nothing. I was just sharing.

to daniil, they were just having a normal conversation. but some part of this - his tone or his words or maybe even his body language - didn’t give artemy the impression that this was supposed to be a regular conversation. (we could, in fact, attribute the same idea to artemy here; why didn’t artemy pick up that this was a normal conversation? the reason i count it towards daniil is because artemy doesn’t seem to have this problem with anybody else. for the record: i don’t think artemy is neurotypical either.)

abnormalities in eye contact and body language

it’s hard to get proof of this in video games, but i will say i think it’s very funny that in pathologic 2 daniil’s idle animations are “pacing”, “sitting like he desperately wants to start bouncing his knees but is stopping himself from doing it”, and “standing unnaturally still” - but there you go. i don’t know anything about making gifs, or i’d gif this one specific talk menu idle he does where he holds eye contact for about three seconds, looks away uncomfortably, and then looks back out of the corner of his eyes.

deficits in […] understand[ing] relationships

mostly examples from his route in classic:

when the army arrives, he can claim to block that aglaya, whom he’s known for two days, is his best friend

he seems baffled by the fact that everone is smitten with maria and working with her, and seems equally baffled by the idea that she’s smitten with him

despite eva implying on day two that she is in a relationship with andrey, is completely blindsided by the revelation on day 6, asking him, “How in the world is she ‘your woman’?”

i’d also like to use his sign-off on his letter to artemy, day 2 of the haruspex route - he signs it as “Your friend (hopefully)”. i know i’m not the only autistic person who used to ask people if we were friends or not. pro tip, if you’ve never done this: don’t. it really weirds people out.

difficulties adjusting behavior to suit various social contexts

the fact that he stands out is blatantly obvious even in pathologic 2 and in the haruspex route of classic. people will comment on him being an outsider and mention that they don’t trust him. but you can watch it happen in real time in his route, because he never fully acclimates to the town. he says something about this to aglaya on day 7:

Bachelor: Was there any particularly notable backstory? I’m deadly tired of all these people. They’re inhuman. They tell the future, believe in walking zombies, and die in all manners of painfully abnormal ways. Inquisitor: Your line of t hinking is obviously falacious - and I was implying something rather mundane. I promise you, no one can really tell the future around here: and neither are deaths inspired by third parties uncommon. Mysterious phenomenons do occur here sometimes… but hardly more often than anywhere else.

actually, there’s an example of him saying something similar to artemy on day 5 in pathologic 2:

Damn this town… I feel I’m trapped in a nightmare. The absurdity of it all… There’s no one to talk to. Everyone’s so volatile. They all seem to want to help, but… their help is worse than hostility.

some of this can be explained by the town’s strangeness, but keep in mind that the first instance happens after he’s been there and involved in the ongoing for an entire week, and the second at nearly a week in. clearly he’s struggling to adjust to the changes.

it’s also worth noting that his reason for fleeing the town in the nocturnal ending?

I have no place here anymore.

This town is no longer mine. No longer human. No longer rational. It doesn’t… accept the likes of me anymore.

repetitive motor movements or speech

it’s harder to see the motor movements in classic, but remember how i pointed out earlier that he paces? pacing is a form of stimming. murky, who is canonically autistic, can also be found pacing as one of her idle animations. having stock phrases for characters to speak when you come near them already ticks off the box on “repetitive speech”, but that by itself doesn’t really cover what they’re talking about - echolalia.

but you know what this does fit with? “‘quoting’ things(communication is HARD! sometimes we need to take shortcuts and use someone else’s words)“

i’ll get to the more obvious example in a minute - i want to point out something that happens very early in pathologic 2 first. you know how you first meet him and artemy accuses daniil of trying to guilt-trip him by asking if it’s true that isidor would still be alive if artemy had come sooner? keep in mind that he spoke to rubin first. and this is what rubin says, when you get a chance to talk to him:

Yesterday, I was told you had killed your father.

That’s not far from the truth, Burakh.

You betrayed him. You left when he needed you most. He cried out for your help, but you didn’t care. He was in peril, and you were too busy elsewhere, He believed, truly believed, that your arrival would put an end to his troubles. And, as always, he was right.

i’m not saying this was necessarily the game’s intent, but it’s entirely possible daniil is parroting back to artemy exactly what rubin said to him.

now, for what you’re probably expecting in this section: the latin. people love to refer to his use of latin as “random”, so let’s clear that up:

it is not latin daniil has made up. with the exception of latin that is mispelled in the game’s texts, all of them are proverbs or otherwise common sayings. you can find most of them on the wikipedia list of latin phrases, or through a 3-second google search.

he’s a doctor. him having taken latin isn’t anymore strange than a lawyer taking latin. in fact, if you pay attention, artemy also took latin; this is implied when artemy tells him he’s always sucked at it.

his uses of latin actually aren’t random at all. what he says fits the situation, and sometimes is used in place of him having to come up with something to say on his own.

prime example:

Forget it, Burakh. I have a splitting headache. If you have no urgent business, then we’ll talk later. Later, later… Qui non proficit, deficit.

qui non proficit, deficit - he who does not advance, loses ground. in other words, “i’m sorry, but i really do need to keep working.” one of his voice lines.

as for why he doesn’t translate the latin: it probably wouldn’t even occur to him to. these are not obscure sayings. the utopians all have a certain degree of education - what would he need to translate them for?

this bleeds into something that isn’t really mentioned, but that i’ve found i have a lot of trouble with in everyday life. autistic people have a tendency to either overexplain (and then have everyone get mad at you because they feel you’re being condescending) or underexplain (and have everyone get mad at you because you haven’t explained anything). the latin would be a case where it feels like a justified underexplanation. you’ll notice that when it comes to anything scientific, he tends to do the reverse, and overexplain. this also happens in classic, whether artemy has asked him to clarify or not.

rigid thinking patterns

the thing i had marked for this was simply his strict adherence to western medical practices and refusal to acknowledge the supernatural, even when it seems obvious - he has a conversation in his route in classic with yulia about this, and that is in fact how he manages to get to her: by asking saburov if there are any other logical skeptics in town. it should be noted they seem to be breaking with this in pathologic 2, where one of his voicelines is “I’m no positivist. There are things in this world beyond our mundane perception.” i have no idea where they’re planning on going with that.

there’s also a quote floating somewhere around twitter about him having been raised by a military man, and militaries tend to enforce very rigid routines. you could say the same thing of block - who (in classic at least) i also have my suspicions about.

highly restricted, fixated interests that are abnormal in intensity or focus

special interests. the one that should obviously come to mind is thanatology, though i would argue latin if not classics in general is a special interest of his as well - in addition to his usage of latin, he also references pericles in the marble nest and was probably refering to the roman occupation of haruspicy in addition to augurs in the same text. he also makes references to shakespeare more than once in both marble nest and pathologic 2.

hyper- or hyperoreactivity to sensory input

i don’t have much written down for this one but there seem to be several places in classic especially where he asks npcs to stop shouting at him. we don’t really have the privilege to know their volume or how they’re interacting with him, but i think it’s also worth noting that he’s the only one of the healers who wears gloves. in pathologic 2 he’s the only named character i can think of who wears them at all. his thing in the lucid dream about the brain being “a border”? gloves are his border, as is his jacket, which may be worn to cut down on sensory issues.

he will also sometimes seem to “overreact” to the situation at hand - such as in classic, when some dogheads mispeak and say that daniil is going to “sterilize” them, and instead of understanding that they must have mispoken, freaks out over the idea that they think they’re going to be… well… sterilized. or in haruspex route, when his reaction to the inquisitor arriving is to threaten suicide.

miscellaneous

he never goes anywhere without that carpet bag. we don’t see it in pathologic 2, but we do hear about it and he doesn’t let it go for a second in classic - not even in the cutscenes where he’s using the microscope. his bag could be a comfort item.

“getting very attached to things like inanimate objects” could work for the bag - but you know what it actually fits the bill much more obviously? the polyhedron. in the haruspex route he recognizes that it’s a lost cause, but he’s still too attached to it to let it go.

in classic at least, daniil is absolutely terrible at lying. most autistic people either are not good at lying, or feel uncomfortable or anxious with having to lie. when he’s asked by yulia and the kids in the polyhedron to lie to block (for different reasons) he’s clearly uncomfortable with the idea that it’ll work. and when it actually comes time to come up with a way to lie to block about why he needs five rifles, your options are to either buckle and tell him the truth, or simply say that you need them for “self-defense”. block believes that you’re not lying to him, but daniil can’t come up with any embeleshments to explain why he needs what he’s asking for.

Commander: Are you hiding something from me? Bachelor: No.

he comes across as naive to other characters. in classic, capella has a voiceline saying, “The Bachelor is not smart. Intelligent, yes… but not smart.” in Pathologic 2, Daniil complains that Aglaya takes him for “a useless dreamer”. he’s also easily used by the Kains to fulfill their endgame in classic.

my final, and absolute favorite: he takes things way too literally. autistic people (and adhd people, from my understanding) have a hard time differentiating jokes and sarcasm. so my favorite moment in marble nest is a case of him taking that earlier advice - to “take heart” literally, by bringing the tragedians a literal human heart:

Tragedian: Oh… Excellency. What a sordid sight! Sorry for underestimating you. You definitely do have… how shall I put it… a creative touch. But this is pure madness. You can’t take things so literally! Daniil: You wanted me to come back to you with an open heart. Well, here I am. …It looked too fitting to be a coincidence.

your mind map, after this, updates to say “I misunderstood the tragedians.”

conclusion

people don’t stop being autistic with age and i think he’s a good example of what it’s like to be in your late 20s and be autistic. i’m sure i missed things as i haven’t finished haruspex route of classic yet and there may just be some other things he does or says that i missed! if anyone has anything to add they think fits i would love to know, thank you for your time :)

#icarus.txt #autistic daniil dankovsky #daniil dankovsky #pathologic meta #ok to rb but i'm not interest in your ''but he's just weird!'' arguments #please keep in mind that this post is about autism #and that this is written by someone w autism...#popular

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septic-skele · 3 years

Text

UF - Out of Reach

Summary: Classic and Blue have it good with their brothers. They make displays of love and affection look so easy. Red can’t help but feel bitter about it. He stands no chance of ever having anything like that with his boss.

Well, not with that attitude about it, Blue says.

Red couldn’t understand it. Logically he figured it was because Classic and Blue came from drastically different backgrounds. They weren’t living with eye sockets in the back of their heads or half-formed, sharpened bones under their pillows like he and Boss did. They were probably just as baffled about him and his behavior, but there was something Blue had said once that wouldn’t leave his mind.

Red had walked in on a private moment and for reasons beyond him, he hadn’t taken a hasty shortcut back out. He stopped and stared and couldn’t help being taken aback when he saw Blue cradling his Papyrus’ skull against his shoulder, murmuring comforts to him. Red had never seen that casual, laidback Papyrus so drunk, weak and vulnerable, much less Blue so solemn.

“I love you, Papy,” he soothed. “I’d love you no matter the ‘reset’, whatever that may be—no matter the world, no matter the universe. A good, proper Sans would never give up on his brother, and I am just that.”

Good, proper. Red had no illusions of propriety but the idea of it nagged and frustrated him. Any time he had tried to console Papyrus in recent memory, it had ended with all the wrong things being said and door hinges buckling under the strain of being slammed.

Red already knew what Blue would say if he heard of this. “You can always try again! I believe in you, pal! You simply need to persevere! You’ll get through to him, I know it!” Disgusting.

The worst part of it, however, was that even Classic did it better than he could. Classic—depressed, cynical, apathetic, a liar to Papyrus’ face more often than not—still loved his brother better.

Somehow the six of them had survived a night in together, though the argument over the TV remote had almost come to blows and the throw pillows may have sacrificed some of their stuffing. Now that they were all retiring, Red wandered down the hall to hear strains of Classic’s voice from one of the nearby bedrooms. He didn’t sound anything like the blasé character Red usually knew; he was lighter, actually putting effort into this.

“…Peekaboo had become a game of hide-and-seek! Where could her friends have gone? Fluffy Bunny wondered, bounding across the green, green field to look for them. She searched high! She searched low!”

“She searched near and far,” Papyrus chimed in.

“You bet she did. She searched east and west, under rocks and up in trees. But Fluffy Bunny couldn’t find her friends anywhere! Wherever could they be?”

Maybe they ditched her for wantin’ to play such stupid games, Red mused with a snort, although as Classic continued he was distracted by an old, old memory fluttering forth.

He had spent hours poring over the dump, fishing out as many old, damaged books as he could find. Drained and shivering, he’d lugged them back to the nook where he’d left Papyrus, safely out of sight. Before he could find sleep, Papyrus had thrown himself over Red’s back and pitched a fit about learning how to read.

“Show me, brother! I want to do it like you do, I want to try! It doesn’t have to be the long one! Just show me how, please! Please, please, please, plea-a-a-ase!”

Red had capitulated only because he didn’t want the tantrum to draw unwanted attention, but that wasn’t the part that stuck with him. Papyrus had curled up against him, half-tucked under his coat, watching him trace letters with intent focus. As he haltingly sounded out the words, every small success made him light up like a star, clutching eagerly at Red’s ribs for his approval.

“Did you see that, Sans?! Did you hear me?! I did it!”

“Yeah, yeah. Pipe down, kid, I saw. Nice one.”

Red’s opinion and praise had still meant something to Papyrus back then. Stars, he was still willing to cuddle with him, despite the filth and the damp clinging to his clothes from the river.

Had Boss ever really been that hopeful, clingy little baby bones or was Red trying to convince himself that was how it had happened? It was so long ago. Pap could have just fished those books out and taught himself while Sans was away, trying to find work. That sounded far more likely.

“G’night, bro,” Classic concluded, sliding the book onto the nightstand and giving his Papyrus an affectionate squeeze of the hand.

Balking, Red ducked back toward the stairs before he could be found snooping, all too well aware of what Boss might do if he ever dared reach out that way. He’d probably end up losing a few fingers.

It wasn’t fair, something small and spiteful in the back of his mind huffed. The idea nearly made him miss one of the steps, torn between shock and scornful amusement. Since when had fairness ever been part of the equation? If things were fair…

If things were fair, they would probably look a lot like the scene he had just left, as well as the scene he was walking into now. Blue perched prim and proper on the end of the couch, surfing idly through channels. His brother was stretched across the rest of the cushions, head propped against Blue’s lap, swaddled up in blankets, the whole nine yards.

Jerks. They were intent on showing off now; they knew exactly how good they had it. Sparks of irrational anger crackled along Red's jaw and spine. If he had something immediately on hand to hurl at them, he would have, but he had already shucked off his boots and summoning a bone would be a waste of magic.

“Edgy me?” Blue called in a faux whisper, making him tense. “I would have thought you’d be asleep already.”

“Yeah, well, it’s kinda hard to rest easy with Classic jabbering on about fluffy bunnies through the wall!” Red snarked, louder and sharper than necessary. He took little satisfaction in the way Blue winced, resting a hand on Papy’s skull as if to muffle the noise.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” So genteel, so polite, he still offered an inviting smile. “If you’d care to come and join us, any of the chairs from the dinner table are free! Mweheh, I honestly have no idea how Papy sleeps like this; the side I sit on is the only one without mangled, broken springs. It’s probably all of his tossing and turning that’s done it. I’ve been meaning to get them repaired, but he hardly ever leaves the couch to let me at it! He really ought to—”

“Shut up already, would’ja? I don’t care! Besides—Tch, wouldn’t want to interrupt your cute little ‘brother bonding’ time.”

“Oh, no, y-you’re not interrupting anything! Did I imply that somehow? I’m sorry! If you want part of the couch, I can wake him and ask him to scoot over—”

“How d’you make it look so easy?” It broke free before Red could fully comprehend how irrational it would be to ask. Jaw clenching so tightly that his teeth squeaked, he drew back from his own brash demand. Blue tilted his head.

“I’m sorry?” That counted three times in this conversation that he’d apologized for nothing. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

He should have retreated. He should have spat, “Never mind!” and transported to his room to seethe in privacy. Instead his foolish, fat mouth blundered on. “How d’you get him to do that?” He threw an irritated gesture at the sleeping lump on his lap. “How d’you make him…relax, with you there? It’s as if he likes having you around!”

Even that was saying too much and yet just enough. Realization dawned in Blue’s eyes, followed by—oh, stars, there was pity.

“Well, I…I’m not really sure. If there are no other comfortable surfaces around for him while he sleeps, I’m happy to help! The last thing he needs is a cramp in his neck. Heh, I’m not tall enough to fix that for him so why not try to prevent it entirely? We’ve huddled up ever since we were baby bones; it’s always been this way.”

Of course. Cheekbones flaming, Red ducked his head. They never had raging fights that lasted until dawn (or until they started losing their voices, whichever came first.) Blue and Stretch had it all sorted out from birth, cozy and coddled.

“…Papy always caught cold too easily. I’d make up some rather impressive beds for him with grass and water sausages so he wouldn’t have to sleep on the rock, but the dew would leave him shivering all night! I couldn’t let that stand! Those chattering teeth of his kept me awake too so I made the noble sacrifice and slept on the damp side while he nestled up to me.” Blue chuckled, an uncharacteristic note of something laced through it. “With our two shirts tucked together, we could almost imagine a full hoodie like he has now!”

“Wh—You? That’s rich.” That was decidedly not what Red had been picturing as a life that could spit out someone as sickeningly sweet as Blue. “You’re not tellin’ me you two were homeless.”

“I preferred to think of us as explorers!” Blue corrected. “I told Papy that we were on an adventure to find the perfect place for a new start. We experienced all that the Underground had to offer a couple of wandering baby bones: scavenging, hide-and-seek, games of chase with older monsters, who were rather poor sports when they couldn’t catch us. I grew strong and magnificent thanks to all of that exercise and my brother…well, he tried very hard!”

Red shuffled uncomfortably in place. Funny, how familiar all of those experiences sounded—but from someone else’s mouth?

“Then Papy fell terribly ill. He was poisoned, in fact. It was the first time I really wondered if I’d lose him.” Ignoring how Red startled, Blue glanced pensively down at his snoring brother, smoothing his fingers more gently over his skull. “It may have been an accident, but I was responsible for his safety; I should have been paying closer attention. In part it was my fault.”

“And he…forgave you for that?” An accident like that, caused by a slip in Sans’ attention, could probably get him disowned.

“On the contrary, he blamed himself! He blames himself for a great many things and he thinks most of them can’t be helped. I try, I always try to help. What’s infuriating is that he acts as if he doesn’t deserve it. Despite what you may think, there are plenty of times he doesn’t want me around. He shuts down, he pushes me away, he tells me I’m wasting my time.”

Red’s eyelights flicked off.

“Shut up, Sans. I don’t want to discuss it.”

“You idiot! Get away from me!”

“Useless. What a waste of time.”

“I think he’s scared of what might happen if he lets his guard down…Perhaps he thinks I’m not strong enough to face whatever is underneath,” Blue continued. “Perhaps he thinks that if he lets me too close, it will be the thing to drive me away for good. Nevertheless! With time and patience, I know I’ll convince him.”

“But how?! How am I supposed to—I mean, how do you keep trying when it never does any good?”

“It does do some good, I’m sure of it! I keep pushing to help him so he knows beyond the shadow of a doubt that I won’t be driven away so easily. Maybe Papy just isn’t ready to show me the good it’s done yet. He has to learn to trust himself before he can trust me, but he can never say that I don’t care about him. I’ll show love to every part of him, even the bad, and it will be an influence for the better. I will break down those barriers!” Blue concluded with a fiercer grin.

A good Sans would never give up on his brother.

“Doesn’t it…suck?” Red ground out, hoping it wouldn’t be interpreted as an admission of weakness. Doesn’t it hurt? “When he shuts you out all the time?”

“Of course. I never said it was an easy task but it’s not within me to accept defeat!” Blue stopped up short then, holding his breath as Papyrus shifted against him. Neither Red nor Blue had been particularly careful about their volume.

After a few moments of adjustment, Stretch settled deeper into his blankets with a sleepy hum of contentment. Blue softened, eyelights aglow with such fondness that Red could almost feel a ripple of it in the air between them. It made his soul turn.

“He’s my only brother. We only have each other in the end. Isn’t that worth the effort?”

_____________________________________

If Red hadn’t been passing his boss’s room at precisely the right moment, he never would have heard it: a string of low, ragged gasps, followed by a rumble that could have been a groan or a growl. Sans grimaced at the sound, already aware of what was happening. Boss never made noise in his sleep unless he was injured, pain slipping through the cracks of his subconscious, or he was fighting a nightmare. Seeing as the last few days had been highly uneventful, it would be the latter.

Welp, that’s his problem. I’m not about to get impaled ’cause he mistakes me for his sleep paralysis demon.

That was habit speaking. Better reasoning caught him a few steps later, slowing him to a halt.

It would be easy to swan off, mind his own business and let Papyrus suffer on his own. It would have been easy to do it years ago too, when Pap was nothing but a scrawny baby bones who couldn’t have done anything about it.

If he hadn’t then, why should he now? It was Boss’s shouts in the morning that often woke him from dark dreams…He could return the favor and feel less indebted to him for it.

It was only fair.

Cursing his newly planted seed of a conscience, Sans pivoted with great difficulty and kicked a foot at the door with a small thump. No answer. He kicked again. The gruff breaths from within quickened.

“…Boss?” he ventured, clearing his throat roughly. “Hey. Boss.” Belatedly he realized that he had no proper excuse ready if Papyrus awoke and asked what he wanted. That might not go over well, but the circumstances were making it hard to focus. Those strangled groans were slowly but surely chipping away his first instinct of self-preservation.

He was definitely going to get impaled. One shot, -9999 damage and his life would be over, all for an attempt to be considerate, but he could hear it now in Papyrus’ voice. There was a scared little brat trapped inside the intimidating commander and that brat clearly still needed a big brother to drag him out of trouble.

Steeled for his impending doom, Sans jostled open the door. “Boss,” he began again as he poked his head in. “You’re makin’ noise, alright? You gotta—Whoa, whoa, whoa, that’s not good—”

Papyrus was a writhing, tangled mess in his blankets, some already torn where his claws had caught. Sweat and magic bled down his face, eye sockets sputtering and smoking in a flurry of colors as he choked for traction to cry out.

“Ngnnh—No, no—stop!”

“Boss?!” Sans stammered, surging forward. Of their own volition his hands got busy, dragging at the blankets to rend them free of Papyrus’ kicking legs. “Bro, hey! It’s okay, it’s just a dream!”

From there it must have only been a few seconds but to Sans it felt like an eternity before Papyrus lurched upright, already scrambling. He didn’t lunge to attack as Sans had expected but recoiled; it was only when he smacked his skull against the wall behind him that he came to a lurching stop.

“I-It’s just me, Pap,” Sans stated cautiously. He wouldn’t have dared use the old nickname under any other circumstances, but it seemed to clear some of the wild haze in his brother’s eyes. It took a beat for him to formulate an appropriate response.

“Get out,” he rasped. It didn’t hold a candle to its usual bite. He was still panting, disoriented. “What are you doing here?”

Which d’you want, an answer or me getting out? “I heard you…Well, I didn’t know if somethin’ was up. Maybe someone…broke in or somethin’, trying to get to you.”

“Oh?” Shoulders shuddering in what could barely be masked as a laugh, Papyrus shook his head minutely. “And what could you do to save me? L-Look at you. You’re not even armed.”

“And look who didn’t even wake up when I barged in here! The big, bad boss could’ve gotten killed in his sleep because he was too busy cryin’ like a—” By the greatest restraint he cut himself off, foreseeing how that would be received, but he’d said enough already.

“Get. Out,” Papyrus snarled, rediscovering vitriol enough for Sans to cringe.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Get out, you fool, this instant, or I’ll—!”

“I’m sorry, okay? I was worried!” That word felt taboo aloud. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright and you weren’t so I stayed to help.”

“There’s nothing you can do here, Sans; as always, you—you prove to be utterly inadequate! Your best course of action will be to close the door behind you.” Judging by the way his chin jutted out, he was clearly expecting that to be the last word.

“…No.” Tossing the blanket’s edge back to the floor, Sans squared up. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.” The incredulity that flashed in Pap’s eyes should have cowed him but he had resigned himself to that already at the door. “I’m not just gonna leave you here, all jittery and crunched up against the wall. I can’t leave you like this. You’re not fine and I know if I try to say somethin’ to make it better, I’ll screw it up. Like you said, I always do. So let’s just skip that part where I do it wrong and get to the bit where you tell me what you need. What d’you need to feel better and get back to sleep okay?”

The following silence caught him off guard. Papyrus was never at a loss for further scathing remarks so why was he just staring at him? Moreover, where had his anger gone? He looked smaller without it, less like the Great and Terrible Papyrus and more like…

Papyrus. Red’s only brother. Hunched down, hands fisted into the mattress, micro-tremors trailing down his ribs as he breathed, he looked exhausted.

A minute passed. Maybe it was two.

Sans fidgeted, his nerve failing. “Boss, listen, I—”

“Tea,” he muttered, hooded eyes darting away. “If you really want to make yourself useful.” Sans hadn’t expected his soul to fill his throat at that response; something must have shown in his face, as Papyrus’ next grumble was even quieter. “You’re acting uncharacteristically generous with your work ethic. Why would I pass up this opportunity to make you work in the kitchen for once?”

Sans felt oddly light at the words as he nodded, turning for the door. “Gotcha.” He had never thought this day would come. For once in his life, he saw doing more work as a victory.

If it did some small modicum of good, if it made one miniscule chip in those walls between them, it would be worth the effort.

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rebthom89 · 3 years

Text

Three Times Dodger Was Exactly What Dani Needed and Once That He Knew She Needed Someone Else

Pairing: Dani x Dodger Evans, Dani x Chris Evans

Word Count: 2,391

Summary: The title basically says it all. But Merry Christmas to my sweetest little lovebug, Dani @fallinforevans! I hope you love it!!!

Warnings: Dodger Evans being the best boy ever, mentions of family issues and work stress

A/N: This is NOT the reader insert type story that I typically write. I wrote this as a very special gift for one of my dearest friends. I absolutely based it on her and her love for iced coffee, Dodger Evans, and (unfortunately) the way her. family can be. I don’t expect it to resonate with everyone. But I WILL be back to writing reader insert after this one.

One

As Dani left work that day, all she wanted to do was get an iced coffee and get home to crawl into bed and forget about the day. She'd been busting her ass to get all the work done she could during this busy fall season, but that didn't mean everyone else was working as hard as she was. Despite turning out some of her best results yet, she kept getting more and more work thrown at her and had never felt less appreciated. It didn't help that she had slept through her alarm this morning, forgotten her lunch, and then gotten back to work late because the restaurant took forever to pack up her take out order. She’d ended up having to eat at her desk while she worked, and managed to spill the last few sips of the iced coffee that was going to get her through the rest of the day.

By the time her day had come to an end, she’d decided to take the shortcut through the park that would get her home about 10 minutes faster AND take her past her favorite coffee stand to make up for the tragedy of the spilled coffee. About half way through the park, though, it seemed as if fate had different plans. Something flew past her knees in a blur and before she knew it, she was on the ground, unable to stand back up and being assaulted by something wet directly to her face.

It took a second to collect herself and process what happened, but when she did, it became a little easier to breathe. The pup currently licking her face in the most excited manner must have gotten away from his owner and accidentally knocked her over. She started to pet him, hoping it would calm him down, at least enough for her to stand back up, but the attention only brought more energy from his brown and white body.

“Woah, Bubs, where did you come from, huh? Someone out there must be looking for you. You’re too cute to be out here all by yourself.” She said to the dog. As soon as he’d heard her nickname for him, he settled enough for Dani to push herself back up, and find a seat on the bench nearby. He immediately came to sit directly in front her, being sure he wouldn’t miss any of the attention she was clearly going to be giving him.

“Dodger, huh? You do like something straight out of a Disney movie” Dani chuckled, taking her phone from her purse to call the phone number on the tag.

“I’m impressed. Not many people get the reference right away,” came a voice from a few feet away, making her put her phone away. “Usually people think it’s got something to do with baseball. I’m sorry about him though. Are you ok?”

“Yeah. Getting some love from an adorable furball is far from the worst thing that happened to me today. It might have been the best actually.” She said with a laugh.

“Well then I’m glad he could help. He must have noticed you could use some puppy love. I’m Chris, by the way. You’ve clearly already met Dodger.”

She scratched his head, smiling. “Dani. Thanks for the pick-me-up, Dodger, even if it literally knocked me over.”

“How about I make that up to you? There’s a great little coffee stand right over here. Let me buy you a cup? Bubba here doesn’t look like he’s ready to say goodbye to you yet.”

Dani smiles, her eyes lighting up at the suggestion. “I was just headed there myself, actually. They make the best coffee. I would love the company.”

Two

As the three of them walked off together, Dodger firmly planted between them so he could share his love with both of them, Dani couldn’t help but think that maybe Dodger had known what she’d needed after all.

Since the fateful day in the park that Dodger knocked her over, Dani, Chris, and Dodger had been darn near inseparable. After several coffee and dog park dates, and few fancier and Dodger free dates as well, she and Chris became official. About eight months later, the two humans had realized they had gotten to the point where it was simply a waste for Dani to be paying rent anywhere else, seeing as she spent virtually every night with Chris and Dodger.

It had amazed Chris at first just how seamlessly Dani had fit into his life. He’d been a little worried that everything would change once she’d officially moved in, but life remained much of the same for them. If anything, it was easier, simply because there was no more of the awkwardness about where they stood. Having each other around, knowing this was home, everyone seemed happier and more at ease.

This morning started the same way most every morning did - Chris had gotten up long before Dani had even considered getting out of bed, and had gone for this usual morning run. The first difference from their normal morning was noticeable as soon as Dani rolled over. The bed wasn’t empty. Dodger had nestled himself into Chris’ spot in bed, and was staring intently at her. It was fairly common for Dodger to accompany Chris on his runs, but every now and then the pup would stay behind, so Dani tried not to think too much of it.

The next difference, Dani felt as soon as she sat up to get out of bed. To be fair, she’d been expecting it, but that didn’t mean the cramps hurt any less. She’d only been awake for a matter of minutes and she could already tell it was going to be one of those days where it would take a miracle to even get her out of bed for any lengthy period of time. Thankfully, Chris had a few meetings today and would be in and out, even after his run, so she could take the day for herself, but knew he’d still be around to check on her too.

She got up with the plans to run through her normal morning routine, including grabbing the iced coffee Chris had undoubtedly left in the fridge for her after making his own coffee this morning. Dodger immediately followed her, almost as though he was keeping an eye on her while Chris was out of the house. On her way back to the bedroom, Dodger raced ahead of her, meeting her back at the bed with his stuffed lion in his mouth. As she crawled back into bed, the pup leaned down and pushed the lion over to her before gently laying his head in her lap.

“Are you gonna share him with me, bubs? I know you love to snuggle him.”

Dani couldn’t help but smile when Dodger sighed happily, relieved that she figured out his plan. She scratched at his favorite spot, right behind his ear. “We do a good job taking care of each other, huh, Bubs? You always seem to know what will make me feel better.”

Chris had been away for nearly a month. He tried to get back home as often as he could, but with the announcement of a new movie he’d signed on for, he was suddenly being called in for interviews every free second he had. Dani was so proud of him and knew how hard he’d been working, but it didn’t make being apart any easier. She couldn’t wait until he got home this afternoon, so she could show him just how proud she was, but that wasn’t going to make the next few hours any easier. Just this morning alone, she’d already done a load of dishes, made a batch of Chris’ favorite cookies, picked up all the toys Dodger had left laying around and vacuumed every room in the house. The anticipation was killing her and she wasn’t sure how she would possibly manage to make it through the next few hours.

Three

Dani thought that maybe finding a movie to focus on would have helped keep her distracted for a while, but even Nick Vaughn serenading her with the sweet sounds of his trumpet couldn’t take her mind from the fact that Chris was almost home. She was pulled from thoughts of Chris when she heard a loud bark coming from near the back door. Dodger was sitting right next to his leash, clearly expecting his walk to begin IMMEDIATELY. Always a sucker for whatever her bubba wanted, she found her tennis shoes, attached his leash and started outside. Expecting him to head to the right, the way they always went on their afternoon walk, she was almost pulled off her feet when Dodger suddenly turned and pulled her up the street to the left.

“Ok, Bubba, I get it. We’ll go the long way. It can’t hurt. Maybe we can even stop at your favorite park for a while.”

Dodger had the time of his life on their walk. He’d chased a squirrel up a tree, made 3 new human friends on the way to the park, and 4 new dog friends once they’d reach the fenced area in which he could run free. By the time he came back up to Dani and laid his head on her knee, silently asking to go back home and cuddle with his lion, even Dani was feeling worn out from all that Dodger had enjoyed on the walk.

The trip back took a little longer than the way there had, partly because Dodger didn’t have as much energy for this half of the walk, and partly because Dani still wasn’t looking forward to returning to an empty house. She figured there was about an hour left before Chris should be home, but was hoping that maybe Dodger had worn her out enough that she could sneak a nap in to keep her thoughts from wandering to Chris.

As the house came into view, Dodger let out a happy bark and suddenly regained all the energy he’d used up earlier. Dani did a double take, because standing there on the porch, watching them walk up the road, was Chris.

The Time She Needed Someone Else

“Dodge - you knew I just needed to keep busy, huh? Ok, that was such a good boy. Go ahead.” She reached down to let Dodger off his leash, and he stopped, looking back up at her, almost as if he was trying to make sure she would be ok. She rubbed his head and chuckled, “It’s ok, Bubba. Go get daddy.” And with that, Dodger took off towards his dad.

“Woof! Woof woof!”

Dodger’s loud, clear barks rang through the house as Chris sat in his office, working. The last time Chris had been in their room, Dani was watching something on TV while Dodger was curled up at the end of the bed, snuggling with his lion. Chris guessed the barks meant that Dodger had grown bored with whatever Dani was watching and was ready to play.

Chris had only gotten through a couple more work emails before Dodger started barking again. This time he didn’t sound like he was looking to play, but more that he expected someone to immediately come find him. Chris wondered if maybe Dani had fallen asleep watching tv and Dodger had managed to get himself stuck in the bathroom or something, and decided it would just be easier for everyone if he were to go let the pup out.

When he got to the hallway leading to their bedroom though, he noticed Dodger sitting in the doorway to their room. Dodger was looking back and forth between the bedroom and the hallway. The second he saw Chris coming, he ran to his dad, leading him straight back to Dani. As Chris came into the room, he found the love of his life sitting on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands and her cellphone laying next to her.

“Darlin’, what’s the matter?” he asked cautiously, stepping into the room and kneeling down in front of her.

“It’s just - everything. My work sucks, and you’ve been working so hard, and I’m so proud of you, I really am, but it doesn’t mean it’s easy on me, and then -” He could feel the tension in her shoulders, and he definitely saw her glance at her phone.

“Your family?”

She could only nod as the tears started again. It killed Chris to see her this way, and if he could just snap his fingers and make everything ok, he would do it in a heartbeat. He took her hands in his, just as he felt her breath quicken. He cupped her cheek in his hand and wiped the tears away with the pad of his thumb.

“Dani, look at me. You are incredible. I don’t know how your family doesn’t see that. But you know what? We’re your family now. Me and you and Dodge. Really, we have been for a while. We’re the ones that will be in this together forever. We’re the ones that will get through anything together. Even Bubba knew you needed us today.”

Dani sniffled, trying her hardest to get the tears under control. “That’s sweet, Chris. And yeah, Dodge could tell I was crying. But -”

“No. No buts today. Just your cute one, putting on your softest pjs ” he teased with a sparkle in his eyes “and finding the sappiest movie you can find on tv. Even if it’s one of those vampire movies you love so much. You and Dodge and I are gonna stay right here all day, and we will supply you with endless love and cuddles and snacks. And then we’ll get that Italian place you love to deliver dinner, and by the time we’re done, you’ll remember just how much we love you. I know it won’t fix everything. But we need you to know that no matter what, you aren’t in this alone.”

She smiled softly, “Thank you. You two always seem to know exactly what I need.”

As if on cue, Dodger hopped up on the bed and planted a sloppy kiss right on her cheek.

Because this isn’t the reader insert I normally write, I will reblog this in the morning with my tags. For now, I’m gonna let Dani enjoy it!

#Dani x Dodger #Dani x Dodger Evans #Dani x Chris Evans #Chris Evans x OC #tw: family issues #fallinforevans #Merry Christmas to the sweetest little lovebug ever!!!!#Dodger Evans is the best boy

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1-800-roflmao · 3 years

Text

Wash Day Delight Pt. 5

Rating: General Audiences

WARNINGS: None

Fandom: Undertale (Video Game)

Relationships: (Papyri Harem) Papyrus (Undertale)/Reader, Papyrus (Underfell)/Reader, Papyrus (Underswap)/Reader, Papyrus (Undertale) & Reader, Papyrus (Underfell) & Reader

Characters: Papyrus (Undertale), Reader, Edge (UF Pap), Blue (US Sans), Stretch (US Pap), Sans (Undertale), and Mentions of Other AU Skeletons

Add. Notes: Reader Is POC - mainly mixed/black coded with thick curly hair. I try to keep descriptions vague. Anyone is welcome to read.

*Papyrus has a moment to himself. Enter Sans, Blue, and Stretch. Edge proposes a toast.

**EDITED SINCE TUMBLR MIXED UP THE PARAGRAPHS

PREVIOUS || FIRST || NEXT

Papyrus was practically beaming at the opportunity he had caught by the horns that morning. What a spectacular way to start his day! He’d been only a little worried that she might shoot down his idea. Okay, he had been very worried. Especially considering she had explained she planned to do chores today as well. Thank goodness, his brilliant mind was in tip top shape today! And he didn’t have the little human here to fluster him. It had also been lucky that Blue was there. The excitable version of his brother had been quite eager to help him convince her to come over once he realized who he was texting and what was going on.

“REMIND HER HOW MUCH SHE LOVED OUR MASTER BATH!” “SHE’S SUPPOSED TO BE PAMPERING HERSELF AND RESTING. CHORES ARE NEITHER OF THOSE!” “WE CAN ASSIST HER WITH THOSE CHORES IF THEY REALLY NEED TO BE DONE…” “TELL HER I’LL GET MY BROTHER’S HOODIE FOR HER!”

That last suggestion he remembered had resulted in a long pause before Blue had laughed awkwardly under Papyrus’s questioning and only slightly judging gaze. His judgemental gaze was soon pulled to his phone as she had replied with a wide-eyed emoji and then stars and then finally:

Fluffy: Promise?

He didn’t know whether to be impressed by Blue or disappointed in his friend that it had taken the simple promise of a hoodie to get her to agree so quickly. Was it because it was Stretch’s specifically? There was no way to tell since they had not offered anyone else’s clothing. It stung for some reason. Idly, he rubbed at his sternum to ease the odd pain away as he sent a reply back.

CoolDude: THE GREAT PAPYRUS! AND MALEFICENT BLUE! NEVER BREAK A PROMISE.

CoolDude: WE’LL BE OVER IN JUST A FEW MINUTES TO PICK YOU UP

Fluffy: Could you give me thirty?

Fluffy: I need to get dressed and pack a bag.

CoolDude: OFCOURSE! SEE YOU SOON!

Needless to say, it wasn’t long after the two had convinced her to come over that the whole household was made aware they would have a guest today in the family group chat. Blue had run off to find his brother with a promise to come back in time to go. Papyrus assumed he was going to try and convince his brother to give up his hoodie for the day. They technically didn’t need it till later though. Most likely she would be rushing off to the bathroom as soon as she stepped foot into their home.

Pocketing his phone, he settled into finishing the task Blue had been helping him with. There were only a few more dishes left to clean from their late breakfast--brunch? Was it still technically too early for brunch? Shrugging, he lost himself in cleaning and tried not to watch the clock obsessively. So hyper focused, he didn’t notice his brother shortcutting into the kitchen just beside him.

○●○●○●○●○

Sans just watched Papyrus currently wiping at the same spot on the counter for what seemed the umpteenth time. “hey, bro, think you missed a spot,” he finally decided to make presence known. He was rewarded with very on brand screech as his taller sibling nearly jumped through the ceiling in surprise. Quite a feat considering they had purposely high ceilings.

“SANS!!!” Sans’ lazy perma smile just perked up as his brother stomped a foot and crossed his arms, sockets narrowing. “WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT USING SHORTCUTS IN THE HOUSE?!” Papyrus scolded, foot tapping away.

“not to,” he answered without a care. His tone said it all. He’d do it again and again. This was a war Papyrus would not win. He bit back a laugh as his brother just sucked in a breath, palms pressed together in a praying motion in front of his teeth. “aw, paps, come on, it’s not that bad,” he pleaded playfully.

“YOU ARE CORRECT,” Papyrus started and Sans arched a brow bone in mild surprise, “IT’S NOT THAT IT’S BAD. IT IS SIMPLY FRUSTRATING THAT YOU HAVE TWO PERFECTLY FUNCTIONAL LEGS AND YET, YOU FIND EVERY OPPORTUNITY TO NOT USE THEM!”

Sans just smiled in turn and that smile just stretched wider as he watched his brother literally flinch and glare even harder. “NO.” His sockets were practically curling with how big his smile was getting as Papyrus continued to command him to cease. It was too late though. It was already in motion.

“just trying to get a leg up on life, bro.” It was like music to his nonexistent ears as Papyrus screeched that signature NYEH! of his. He would have tossed a few more puns his brother’s way, but… “so, what has your spine in a twist?” While he could guess what had his brother stressing--considering a certain human was visiting today--it did not hurt to ask.

His brother’s lazy pun had done its job to lighten his mood significantly. He had expected more, but instead Sans had thrown a curveball. The question was sobering. He wasn’t stressed. He wasn’t worried. He wasn’t… right? Picking up the rag he had used to clean the counters, he brought it to the sink and started ringing it out. “MY SPINE IS PERFECTLY ALIGNED AS USUAL, SANS,” he replied, tossing the rag in to a small hamper just outside the connected laundry room.

Silence followed and he could feel his brother’s eyelights boring into his back. “uh huh…” Yeah, that tone said he hadn’t believed a word of it. Rather than pushing with words, his brother had settled for simply staring and tapping at the counter. It was a battle of wills at this point.

Just as the tapping of his brother’s phalanges against the countertop was starting to tick away his resolve, the tension was shattered as Blue reentered the kitchen with his own brother in tow. Papyrus could hear the energetic version of his brother nagging at his lazy self to wash his hoodie before lending it out. Finally turning around, he aimed a bright smile at the swapped brothers; pointedly, he ignored his brother’s judging gaze. “BLUE, I SEE YOU’VE SUCCEEDED IN CONVINCING YOUR BROTHER!” he declared, marching up to the two.

A little amused huff escaped Blue, “DIDN’T TAKE MUCH CONVINCING HONESTLY,” he admitted.

“OH?” Papyrus looked to Stretch for elaboration and the other just gave an easy shrug.

“little miss has been eying my hoodie for a good bit,” he stated, an amused lilt to his voice, “was honestly surprised she never tried to sneak it or ask for it before now.”

“SHE DIDN’T ASK FOR IT,” Papyrus found himself saying before he could think better of it. It wasn’t a lie, but why did it feel like he said something mean. That odd feeling was pressing at his sternum again.

Stretch simply rolled the lollipop held in his jaws from one side to the other. The hard candy clicking gently at the back of his teeth as he leveled a seemingly unbothered stare on his doppelganger, but Papyrus knew no matter how much the slouching brother seemed to act like his brother, he was still a Papyrus and Papyri were more observant than they often let on. He knew those honey colored eye lights were searching for every little cue to put together the puzzle put before him.

“THAT IS TRUE. I DID OFFER IT,” Blue cut in, a shared moment of eye contact between the older brothers missed by the younger.

A little hum could be heard from Stretch as he straightened up with a roll of his shoulders in a mock stretch. “hadn’t meant it to come off like that so let me reword,” he started with a short chuckle. “she’d been wishing on all our sweaters and hoodies,” he amended, his lazy smile pulling up at the corners as he now had to look slightly down at his doppelganger without his usual slouch.

That ugly, heavy feeling wasn’t pressing as insistently after Stretch’s words. “OH…” Papyrus hoped his voice came off as neutral. Sadly, he could feel his magic betraying him as his cheekbones warmed.

“you all can’t tell me you’ve never noticed,” he challenged the room, finally breaking his staredown with Papyrus as he looked to the other two occupants.

Sans was the first to input his agreement with a shallow nod as he leaned on the counter. “she tries to be subtle about it,” he remarked, an easy smile on his face as he rested his chin against his palm, “sneaking little glances here and there, dropping little hints…” His sockets closed with a happy curve as his deep laugh rumbled in his chest as he remembered the offhanded questions and shy beating around the bush their friend opted for instead of simply asking outright to borrow one of their jackets.

Opening his sockets, he resumed watching his brother. His light pink flush had dimmed and he had lifted a hand up to his mouth, digits curled as he seemed to be thinking. He just smiled more as Papyrus seemed to be relaxing as he worked through his thoughts. The more anecdotes they shared, the more his sockets seemed to widen with understanding.

“LET’S NOT FORGET SHE HAD TRIED ACQUIRE YOUR SWEATER JUST LAST NIGHT, CREAMPUFF.” Edge’s voice cut through the chatter. They had all jumped and seemed to move as one to look at the sharp skeleton currently shutting the fridge door. When had he come in? Had they been so engrossed they had somehow missed him coming in? Edge just smirked smugly at all of them as he carried the carafe of lemonade over to the island.

Sans just chuckled and turned his attention back to his brother. His brow bones perking as he saw Papyrus’s smile wasn’t strained anymore and his tense posture had fled. A glance to Blue and the other gave him the tiniest shrug before following it with a sneaky thumbs up. Yeah, everything was good again. Let’s not question it for now. “hey, bro, don’t cha have a guest to pick up?” he commented.

The energetic duo both looked to the clock on the wall. A rather impressive synchronized gasp left the two. “NYEH!” “MWEH!” “WE’RE LATE!!” The smaller skeleton just barely managed to catch the taller by the hand as he went to dash out the door. “SORRY, PAPYRUS! NO TIME FOR THAT!” Blue rushed out an apology before the smell of ozone filled the kitchen and barely a second later they were gone.

○●○●○●○●○

“hey, Edge, mind pouring me a glass of that lemonade?” Stretch had settled at the island with a hopeful smile.

His request was met with a huff as Edge opened the cabinets above and retrieved a glass for himself, “POUR YOURSELF ONE, ASH TRAY.”

The orange clad skeleton just hummed around his lollipop before grabbing the sweet, honey flavored treat by it’s stick and removing it from his mouth. “aww, why not? you poured one for Sans there and he didn’t even ask,” he pouted playfully, gesturing to Sans who was nursing his glass of lemonade just beside him.

“don’t have to ask when you’re-” Both Papyri still in the room shot him a warning glare before he could even finish and he lifted his hands up in mock surrender. “fine, fine , tough room,” he joked. Edge just rolled his eyes, while Stretch let his glare linger a bit longer to make sure Sans didn’t try to sneak it in.

“I REFUSE TO WATCH YOU RUIN A PERFECTLY GOOD GLASS OF LEMONADE AGAIN,” the sharper skeleton stated as he poured his own glass and took a sip, sighing at the refreshing taste.

Stretch feigned insult, “i’m not the only one who puts honey in their lemonade, edgelord.”

“NO, BUT I WOULDN’T SAY YOU ARE PUTTING HONEY IN LEMONADE WITH YOU,” Edge started, wrinkles forming on his nose ridge in disgust as he spoke, “NO, WITH YOU IT IS MORE ACCURATE TO SAY YOU PUT LEMONADE IN YOUR HONEY.” He took a long sip like he could taste the sticky sweetness on his tongue and needed to wash it down.

“you got me there,” Stretch popped his lollipop back in his mouth and settled in, laying against the counter with a resigned sigh. He could hear Edge grumbling about how of course he was right. Rolling his lollipop, he moved his attention back to Sans. The prime doppelganger had simply been sitting quietly with an easy smile on his round skull. As if sensing Stretch’s stare, his white eyelights locked with honey colored ones.

“need something, pal?” The words held no threat or warning, just an invitation to ask away.

“what was up with your brother earlier?” Stretch already had a guess. He just wanted confirmation at this point. The stout skeleton apparently had no plans to play along and just shrugged noncommittally.

“no clue what you’re talking about, Stretch,” Sans replied, finishing off his lemonade with a satisfied sigh, “thanks for the drink, Edge.” He sent a genuinely thankful smile Edge’s way before the smell ozone once again filled the room and an empty glass was abandoned on the countertop before a now empty seat.

Edge fought down a smile that tugged at his teeth. It wasn’t too hard with Stretch still in the room though. Currently, the laidback skeleton was watching him with a curious look. “WHAT?” he snapped, scowling as a knowing grin was aimed at him.

“you’re in on it,” the other stated matter of factly.

“I AM IN ON NOTHING. AND QUIT THAT CLUELESS ACT,” Edge snipped, crossing his arms with a cocked hip, “I WAS THERE LONG ENOUGH TO SEE YOUR POSTURING EARLIER.” It had been a surprise to see the usually passive skeleton standing to his full height and purposely towering over their prime version. He cut off Stretch’s denial with a sharp growl, “I WON’T LISTEN TO BULLSHIT, STRETCH.”

Stretch just gave a defeated chuckle as he sat up in his seat. “two for two today, Edge. you’re on a roll,” he commended.

Edge didn’t see nor hear any regret from his alternate. The two simply took a moment to stare each other down. A silent measuring up before the standing skeleton reached up into the cabinets and set down a new glass. Curious honey eyelights watched as a lemonade was poured to only fill half the glass before it was slid over to him with a gentle push.

“what’s this?” Stretch questioned. He leant forward in his seat and tilted his skull as he shifted his stare from the half full glass to Edge who was refilling his own.

“LEMONADE,” he answered smartly and Stretch didn’t bother restrain his rolling eyelights.

“i can see that.”

“THEN WHY ASK?”

“you know that’s not wh-”

“JUST FILL IT WITH YOUR INFERNAL HONEY ALREADY,” Edge snapped, cutting Stretch off with an impatient scowl.

Knowing he wouldn’t get anywhere with his darker counterpart, he fished in his pullover pocket and pulled out his signature bear shaped honey bottle. Snapping the top, he upended the bottle over the glass and squeezed. The viscous, thick amber liquid cut through the pale white lemonade and pooled at the bottom of the glass. It took a minute to build the thick layer he wanted and once he was done, Edge handed him a spoon begrudgingly to stir his monstrosity. Finished, he looked to Edge again questioningly only to see the other holding up his glass. The sharp toothed skeleton had a cocky smirk on his skull, “IF YOU’RE SERIOUS ABOUT THAT CHALLENGE EARLIER, JUST KNOW YOU HAVE COMPETITION.”

Stretch was sure his jaw was on the floor as he realized what was going on. He had known the tougher skeleton was soft on their human, but he hadn’t thought it went further than platonic interest. That only left Willow and Mutt from the Papyri who seemed to show no romantic interest. At least he hoped. That may change considering today was the day for surprises. Sucking in a breath, he sat up and raised up his own glass, tapping it against Edge’s with a less intense smirk of his own. “noted,” he acknowledged, “but the true competitor is Creampuff, ya know. you’ve seen those two together.”

Edge nodded. It was hard to miss the looks those two often sent to each other. It could be absolutely suffocating at times to be in the same room as them when they start acting sweet and fluffy. He took a moment before tapping his glass against Stretch’s for a second time, “A SECOND TOAST TO THE IDIOTS FINALLY WAKING UP,” before they each took a sip of their respective drinks.

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adiwriting · 4 years

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Sunday Mornings 6/?

Notes: Because I feel like these two fluff muffins would playfully bicker about whose more romantic, but they certainly would be competitive with other couples... Shout out to @cosmicclownboy for the inspiration.

Week 6:

If Michael is being honest, he wasn’t sold on the idea at first. When Alex had woken him up at 5am, telling him to grab his shoes and meet him at the car, Michael hadn’t been thrilled. After all, 5am is incredibly early for his day off and he’d been really looking forward to sleeping in. But now that they have arrived, Michael has to admit, he’s coming around.

After all, being driven out to the middle of the desert, to the same spot that they used to come to when they were kids, just to watch the sunrise together? It’s a pretty smooth move. A move made even more romantic when Alex reveals that he’s packed breakfast for the two of them.

Michael pulls down the tailgate as Alex grabs a blanket to spread out over the bed of the truck. Just like old times.

“You know, you don’t have to work so hard to get laid,” he teases as he helps Alex climb into the back. He’s careful to send him a wink though to let him know that he very much appreciates the effort.

“You’re welcome.” His smile is big and unguarded. It has Michael rocking back on his heels.

Fuck. He’s seriously the most attractive person in the entire world. Looking at him when he’s like this always catches Michael’s breath. He still doesn’t understand how he’s finally being allowed this after all the shit he’s done, but he’s not going to fight it.

Michael shakes his head clear and crawls up after him. Alex is already lounging attractively, arms open, inviting Michael to join him. He wastes no time snuggling up beside him. They lay there like that, Michael with his head on Alex’s shoulder, staring up at the few remaining stars they can still see as the sky turns a light blue. Sunrise is nearing.

“Did I miss an anniversary or something?” Michael asks after several minutes.

“Can’t I just want to do something romantic for my boyfriend?” Alex asks.

Michael rolls onto his stomach and puts his arms on Alex’s chest before resting his head against them. “You can. I was just curious what inspired this?”

“It’s nothing,” Alex says in a way that means it’s most certainly something. Michael stares at him until he continues. “It’s just something stupid Rameriz said to me the other day.”

“Rameriz? That douchey sergeant who works the gate?”

Alex nods.

“What the fuck did he have to say?” Michael asks, silently thinking that whatever it was, he probably still owes him a beer for getting Alex to plan all of this.

“He was talking to the guys, trying to get advice for this romantic anniversary he’s planning, and then made a joke that I didn’t have to worry about that stuff because I’m dating a guy,” Alex said. “I don’t know, it’s stupid. But it annoyed me.”

Michael sits up. “What because we’re two dudes, we can’t be romantic?”

Alex sits up to join him. “Apparently,” he says with a deep sigh.

Alex rolls his eyes and Michael finds he’s just as annoyed. “Did you tell him that we’re like romance goals?”

Alex snorts. “Romance goals?” He quirks his eyebrow at Michael, teasing him and damn, Michael just wants to tackle him and have his way with him… but that will have to wait.

“I don’t know,” he says, ducking his head to hide a blush. “That’s what Isobel calls us.”

“Good,” Alex replies, and Michael looks up to see him puffing out his chest a bit. “I’m glad somebody appreciates a decent love story.”

“Decent?” Michael scoffs. “What happened to cosmic?”

“I just… If I have to hear about Liz and Max and their stupid handprint story one more time, I’m going to scream,” Alex says.

Michael is about to agree, because he has noticed that Max has a tendency to talk about his relationship like it’s the end all and be all. As if he’s the only one that found his soulmate in high school and spent ten years pining… Then Alex’s words click.

“Do you want a handprint?” he asks, seriously.

“No,” Alex says instantly then pauses, actually thinking about it. The tension in his body relaxes and he reaches out for Michael’s hands.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he says much softer this time. “If you ever decided that was something that you wanted to share with me, I would 100% welcome your handprint on me. Because there’s not a single part of you that I don’t welcome. What I meant was… I don’t need it. We fell in love without all of that. When Liz or Max tell me that story, I don’t get jealous, because I know and see all of you without any handprint. And I know you see me too.”

Michael smiles at that. He feels the same way. He’s sure one day, he’ll try it with Alex just to see how it feels. But the truth is, he’s never done it with Alex because it always seemed like a crutch. Max used his handprint with Liz to show her how he felt about her because he couldn’t say the words. Most of his problems with Alex have stemmed from an inability to communicate, and if he wants this to work, he’s determined not to take any shortcuts.

“You know, Max is always asking Isobel how to win back Liz,” Michael explains. “I’ll be sitting right there and he won’t even think to ask me about it, even though, between Iz and I, I’m clearly more likely to have advice on winning back your soulmate after you’ve messed up.”

“That’s because everyone thinks all we do is fuck,” he says, dragging over the cooler he’d packed to start pulling food out.

“I mean, we do fuck a lot… but that’s not all we do,” Michael argues.

“Yeah, I don’t think they believe either of us can be romantic though,” he says. “They look at us and see a repressed airman and…” Alex waves his hand over Michael, searching for the right word to describe Michael.

“Sex god?” Michael teases, earning him a shocked laugh.

“I was gonna go with emotionally stunted cowboy with too much swagger, but that comment probably says enough.” Alex glares at him playfully.

Over Alex’s shoulder, Michael catches the first glimpse of sunrise as the horizon lights up a bright orange. Michael nods towards it. “We gonna watch this thing?”

Alex spins around on the spot to face the sunrise and Michael pulls Alex back against his chest and hugs him from behind, hooking his chin over his shoulder.

“Anyone that thinks you can’t do romance, is an idiot,” Michael tells him, kissing the side of his neck as the sun slowly paints the sky vivid shades of red and orange, making Alex’s skin just glow.

Alex smiles at him over his shoulder before turning back around, resting his head against Michael’s shoulder.

“This may be more romantic than the first time you took me to look at the stars when we were kids.” Michael doesn’t need to see Alex’s face to know that he’s looking smug.

“Mmmm,” he hums in agreement. He may find Alex’s confidence sexy as hell, but he certainly can’t allow it. Because this morning has been pretty impressive, but Michael has had some pretty smooth moments himself.

“Well it’s more romantic than me taking you to see the stars, but less romantic than when I surprised you at the airport after your first tour,” he points out, playfully pinching Alex’s side, earning him a laugh.

“I’ll take your airport surprise and raise you a love note slipped into your wallet before my second tour,” Alex says.

And, yeah. That’s fair. It had taken Michael a few days to find it once Alex had left, but damn… It had been a hell of a note. Michael still has it in his wallet to this day. Those ten years hadn’t been great, but that doesn’t mean that they haven’t had some truly brilliant moments.

“No no no. See, I bought an airstream so you could come home on leave and not have to see your father,” he argues, enjoying messing with Alex, mostly because Alex was always super competitive. “I win the romance game.”

Alex scoffs. “You bought an airstream so you wouldn’t have to sleep in a truck.”

“I bought an airstream so you wouldn’t have to sleep in my truck,” Michael says.

Alex sits up and looks at him with narrowed eyes, trying to see if that’s the truth or not. Michael continues to smile at him, refusing to give anything away. Alex eventually huffs.

“Let’s just agree that we’re both awesome,” he says, grabbing some of the fruit he’d packed before settling back in against Michael.

“Is that Alex Manes for ‘fine you win?’”

Alex laughs. “You’re a real jackass.”

“Your jackass,” he says, stealing the strawberry from Alex’s hand and eating it himself.

Alex huffs. “There’s literally more strawberries right next to you,” he complains.

“It tastes better when it’s yours,” he says, repeating the same argument Alex always makes whenever he steals Michael’s coffee. Alex glares at him for a minute and Michael just smiles back sweetly until Alex’s face relaxes and he melts back into him.

They sit there for several more minutes in silence as the sun seems to settle and the sky returns to a more natural blue, all traces of red and orange gone. Even then, Alex doesn’t move and Michael has no plans to make him. They eat their breakfast in comfortable silence, Michael stealing Alex’s food every so often and Alex randomly bringing their joined hands up to place kisses at the back of Michael’s hand.

They have nowhere to be and no reason to rush.

At some point Alex starts humming a song Michael doesn’t recognize, which probably means that it’s the secret song he’s been writing for the last week. The song that Michael isn’t allowed to ask about but will get to hear with everyone else at the next open mic night.

If there is such a thing as a perfect moment, this is it. He suddenly feels the need to immortalize this morning, even though he really isn’t much of a ‘document the moment’ kind of guy.

“Do you really wanna piss the heteros off?” Michael asks.

“What?” Alex sounds resigned, but Michael knows him well enough to know that he’s already agreed without needing to hear whatever Michael is about to say, and he loves that about Alex. He reaches into his pocket and hands Alex his phone.

Alex smiles at him in understanding, taking the phone from him. He types Michael’s password in and he opens up the camera app and holds it out in front of him, careful to include both of them in the frame as well as their picnic.

“Ready?”

Michael nods and at the last second, as Alex is taking the photo, Michael kisses Alex’s cheek.

And that’s how, twenty minutes later, they both end up updating their social media for the first time in over a year talking about love, surprises, and sunrise meals. #RelationshipGoals.

Tagged: @callieramics

As always if anyone wants to be tagged, let me know!

#roswell nm #roswell new mexico #malex fic #malex #fic: sunday mornings #michael guerin #alex manes #Domestic Bliss #fluff fest #soft boys

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hopetwink · 3 years

Text

Fic Analysis: Yellow Somethings

Yellow Somethings by @kidcarma

I’ve been in a creative rut lately, so one of the things I’m doing in the meantime is analyzing my favorite fics written by friends and/or acquaintences. This work was one of the first that came to mind, so it’s the first one I wrote an in-depth character analysis for.

Some people tell me I’m scarily good at psychoanalyzing both fictional characters and authors, so I’m harnessing that ability here in hopes it’ll give both you guys (and maybe also me) a greater appreciation for these well-written works.

So yeah, enjoy!

When I first read this work, one thing that immediately stood out to me was the dialogue. Good dialogue can stand on its own. If we cut out everything except the first exchange of dialogue between Hinata and Komaeda, the strength of this dialogue becomes evident.

“I hate you.”

“I can live with that.”

As any skilled writer knows, well-written first lines are crucial to the allure of a story. The first line must not only be an enticing hook, but an informative and non-expositional string of words that give the reader a strong sense of the work as a whole. It instantly sets the tone for a piece, allowing us to get a sense of where the characters are now, and what direction they’re going in.

The author’s choice to make the first line a piece of dialogue tells us they want to plunge us headfirst into the story. In fanfiction, which cannot exist without source material to draw from, it’s safe to assume one’s audience already knows a great deal about the canon lives and fates of the characters the story explores. It’s a nice shortcut that lets writers avoid having to excessively recap the events of the canon storyline, but the way this particular author makes use of this shortcut is significant. The intensity of the language they chose to use serves another purpose--to give the reader exactly what they promised the fic would contain in the summary, notes, and tags, and knock anyone who isn’t ready to read it off balance.

In less than a hundred words, Komaeda confronts Hinata with intensely negative feelings that most people wouldn’t hesitate to take at face value, and Hinata makes it clear that regardless of if Komaeda truly hates him, he has no intention of abandoning him.

‘Hate’ is a funny emotion; you can’t hate someone and be indifferent to them at the same time. To hate someone is to care about them, though even the mere suggestion that we care for the people we hate on some level is uncomfortable and counterintuitive. So yes, Komaeda’s telling the truth, he does hate Hinata. I don’t think he holds Hinata’s past against him; that would not only be unfair, but go against Komaeda’s efforts to promote and embody hope. Lingering on a past full of despair instead of looking towards the future does nothing to further the great cosmic goals of hope.

Komaeda wouldn’t hate Hinata over something so broad and vague; no, the reason Komaeda hates Hinata is simple: Hinata’s the only one who isn’t fazed by Komaeda’s delusions, and he refuses to give Komaeda the dignity of rotting away in peace.

In taking care of Komaeda, Hinata forces him to confront every last ounce of shame in his body, because somebody decided he was worth keeping alive, worth helping to heal and protect, when that goes against what he thinks with every fiber of his being. He has to sit helplessly and watch as Hinata emotionally strips him down and sees what he believes to be the ugliest parts of himself, the ones that he genuinely would rather die before willingly showing them to someone else, and being subjected to such humiliation at the hands of someone with good intentions is too much for him to bear.

The only remotely empowering emotion he can cling to at the moment is bitterness, which enables him to find little ways to resist Hinata’s attempts to nurse him back to health at every turn.

We see him try to reclaim some leverage in their power dynamic when he attempts to psychoanalyze Hinata and determine the reason he hasn’t given up on Komaeda yet through quips like “you do this because you feel bad” and “is it because the image of my dead body lives on in your mind.” Komaeda cannot allow Hinata to see him be vulnerable, because if he does, all the effort he put into building an impenetrable wall around his heart over the past fifteen or so years will have been for nothing.

This feature of the fic is only made more poignant by the fact that it’s written from Hinata’s perspective--we don’t see what Komaeda is thinking or feeling, only his words and actions. But we see Hinata’s, which brings me to another underlying message: sometimes love isn’t gentle. Sometimes love isn’t soft and sweet, or pretty. Hinata loves Komaeda, even if he himself doesn’t realize or understand it. Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t bother. He would’ve simply walked out of Komaeda’s hospital room the first time he refused to take his medicine. And he didn’t do that. He would never do that, not to Komaeda.

Hinata’s love for Komaeda is reflected in the yellow flowers he leaves next to his hospital bed, and that is why we catch a glimpse of his frustration when Komaeda breaks it. But in a way, this is a good thing--as Hinata begins to open up about his emotions, the pair move further away from their cycle of codependency and towards something closer to a symbiotic relationship. Perhaps someday, instead of needing to need each other, they will be able to love each other with no strings attached.

This is what makes Komaeda’s decision to replace the flowers in Hinata’s vase much more significant than it appears on the surface--not only is it a gesture of goodwill and apology, but a sign that Komaeda is finally taking initiative in their relationship. No longer will Hinata have to carry both of their burdens; Komaeda is willing and able to reciprocate the love and effort Hinata has selflessly given him.

The fic ends on Hinata doing some much needed introspection, and eventually coming to the conclusion that he isn’t happy with the way his life has turned out. Because, despite everything he’s been through, all the knowledge, talent, and skill he’s gained, and the external validation he’s received from his friends, it’s not enough. What Hinata wants is a purpose beyond caring for Komaeda. One day Komaeda will be fully recovered and then Hinata will have no other meaningful task to do, and nothing to distract himself from his inner turmoil.

What Hinata needs is to see himself as inherently valuable, and he’s incapable of doing that until he learns to forgive himself. Right now, he’s not ready to accept his or Komaeda’s forgiveness yet, but deep down he knows that’s the only way to pull himself out of the pit of self-loathing he’s buried in.

Perhaps I’m reading too deeply into this clean, clear-cut fic, but I highly doubt the author went into this scenario with little to no knowledge of both Hinata and Komaeda’s mental predicaments. The underlying whispers of each character’s desire to love and be loved, to feel something--anything--when they’re too numb to care, is not a dynamic that an unskilled writer would be able to execute so gracefully.

At the very least, Carmen has quite the natural aptitude for extracting the real life emotions they and others around them experience, and at the most, they have done extensive research involving both outside sources and (multiple) character studies. Regardless of whether either or both are true, I’m extremely impressed at how well they’ve managed to nurture the seeds of creativity in their mind, and I look forward to more opportunities to explore their works with in-depth analyses.

#komahina #danganronpa #dr2: goodbye despair #danganronpa fandom #dr2 spoilers #nagito komaeda x hajime hinata #mild to moderate angst #long post

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blursed-ninjago-ideas · 3 years

Text

I deliberately left some scenes out because I didn’t feel like writing them, and other things I just took shortcuts on cause I have a huge headache, but I want this done.

Hydra is Nya’s hero name with the dragon miraculous.

He was debating what to name his latest Akuma. A jealous girl that resented her best friend’s boyfriend. The two were having a very explosive fight in the middle of the park by Collège Françoise Dupont.

Honestly Hawkmoth wasn’t sure which one he was going to get. They were both pretty upset. His little butterfly was heading straight for the fight, until it suddenly turned and changed course.

Sighing, Hawkmoth was pretty sure he knew what was happening, again.

Kai Smith happened to be walking past. The boy was a walking Akuma trap. It was a frustrating waste of his time and resources. If he could just figure out how to harness Kai’s emotions, the boy would be the most powerful weapon against the heroes. But Kai was too stubborn and spontaneous to control. He was so easy to akumatize. Hawkmoth didn’t have to do hardly any work to get him to surrender. He was just so set and focused on his own goals that Hawkmoth couldn’t get him to bother with the miraculous.

The Akuma settled itself into the pendant of a necklace Kai was wearing, and Hawkmoth was already calling the day a wash, but then the empathy link showed him something new.

It was a different than usual.

Kai felt…fragile. He wasn’t focused on any sort of goal. His emotions weren’t from worry or ambition, it was just raw and directionless.

It wasn’t like he had anything to lose, and it could turn out to be a worthy experiment.

Kai fiddled with his pendant again. It had become a handy fidget to have. Chloe had made it for him, it turned out she really loved making jewelry and seemed to have a knack for it. He was so proud of her and seeing how excited she got to show off a new piece made his heart melt a little. There was no pride or approval seeking, just pure excitement. She didn’t do it for attention, just to share the happiness she had for it.

It was a far cry from her old attempts at creative pursuits, only doing things she thought would impress, regardless of her own feelings.

Course all the growth on Chloe’s part came at a price, and Nya was the one that paid it. Kai hadn’t meant to neglect her. He just didn’t think she still needed him that much. Chloe was so young and in need of guidance, he had thought Nya was mature enough to not need him. But he should’ve really thought about how much it would hurt to not see him as much. Nya may’ve not needed his care or guidance, but she still needed his company. He was her big brother and the only constant she had growing up; it was cruel to take that away from her. Even if it wasn’t on purpose.

And Lloyd of course would always need Kai. That was his job. It was literally a written destiny that Kai would be there for Lloyd while he fought to protect others as the green ninja. Lloyd had suffered plenty and would probably always need Kai as an emotional crutch. He faced trauma and near-death experiences on the regular. If Kai and the others weren’t there to help him feel safe and loved, there was no way anyone, even Lloyd, could go through all that and not break.

But that left three people that needed Kai to be there for them, and there was only so much of him to go around.

He didn’t want to make that their problem. He toughed it out. He pushed himself. He could keep it up for a little longer. He could do a little more.

Nya had ideas for some new vehicles and wanted Kai’s help with them. It was a good way to spend some quality time and, her own confession, Kai was the better welder

Chloe wanted him to set up a challenge for her to test how far she’d come. It was a good idea, a concrete way to self-reflect and a tangible show of progress.

Lloyd had talked him into helping with a school project. It was nice to see Lloyd doing something that wasn’t life and death stakes.

He didn’t know how in the world he let Adrien talk him into modeling, but that was also on his plate.

It felt like there was a deadening static in his head that he had to force all his thoughts through, a buzzing not unlike an alarm. He had noticed his hands had started to spasm at random points. He wasn’t sure how concerned he should be about that.

Like many things, Kai ignored it. He had things he had to do and people that were depending on him. He had no time to deal with it. It could wait.

He was on his way to meet up with Lloyd, but he had to leave in time to make lunch with Nya, and he had to figure out what to do for Chloe, not to mention he had an early morning photoshoot the next day so he needed to get some sleep for that and probably should shower before it.

His hands found their way to his pendant again. He was pulling it back and forth on the chain, making a rhythmic zipping noise as it pulled on the chain links.

“I’M A PERSON! I DON’T HAVE TO BE AT YOUR BECK AND CALL!”

Kai cringed.

“IS THAT WHAT YOU CALL MAKING TIME FOR ME? ANY TIME! AT ALL? I’M SO SORRY IT’S SUCH A CHORE TO HANG OUT WITH ME.”

“Please don’t make an Akuma” Kai though to himself as he passed the fighting girls.

The shouting back and forth was not doing good things for his nerves. He was trying to take even breaths to counter it, but they just kept screaming.

Kai squeezed his eyes shut and pressed forward. He’d get away soon enough, go help Lloyd, maybe help the heroes if that fight attracted an Akuma, meet up with Nya, then head back to Le Grand Paris and brainstorm with Chloe, then hopefully go to bed, then get up, shower, go model for a while, he should probably take the opportunity to talk to Adrien about Chloe, the backstory someone that grew up with her would know might help him with her, and maybe ask about how Lloyd is doing while he’s there.

Probably should do a quick evaluation of Adrien’s mental health too. From what he’d heard from Lloyd, Adrien may need someone to be there for him too.

AND THE GUYS!

He had completely forgotten to check in with the others! Zane, Cole, and Jay! He needed to check on them too, plus he wanted to see them!

Kai was so busy planning out his tasks that he didn’t see the uneven sidewalk. He realized that he’d tripped as soon as he started to fall, but instead of catching himself, his brain decided that it wanted to do nothing instead. The wind got knocked out of him when he limply hit the ground.

Kai opened his eyes and started at the ground ahead of him. Normally he’d get up and brush himself off, and he would in a minute, but some reason he just kept staring ahead. The static stopping him from making any movements.

He felt like screaming, or even crying. He was in pain and he had just fallen down. It wasn’t a big deal, but it felt like Kai was fighting to keep himself in check and not have a full meltdown. The static in his head was blocking any attempts to steady himself.

He was gathering his courage to stand back up and keep going when a familiar butterfly flew to him.

Kai breathed rapidly, trying not to panic, or breakdown, or cry.

“A bit stressed are we?”

Kai didn’t respond, he just kept trying to breathe.

“Stretched too thin. Too many things you have to juggle. There’s nothing more to give is there?”

Kai felt like he was drowning already. Hawkmoth’s intrusion was pushing him passed his breaking point.

“You know who I am and what I want. I’ll give you the ability to make everything go away, all I ask for in return is Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous. What do you say, Burnout?”

Kai’s eye twitched at the name. Why did it feel right? Why did it feel right? He was drowning under his own emotions and Hawkmoth already seemed to have a handle on it all. There were two options. He could continue to fight and struggle, or he could just give up and have some relief.

There was nothing Kai could tell himself that would make the fight look worth the effort.

“Yes Hawkmoth.”

Adrien ducked behind another tree, hoping to get the opportunity to transform, but the tree vanished into smoke against his back, leaving a nasty scorch mark behind.

Adrien had barely got a look at the new Akuma, he couldn’t tell who it was yet, but they knew his name.

Black smudges came down from his eyes and stained his dark grey, ash colored skin. He was wearing a long smokey cloak that seemed to be made of the stuff at the end, a small gold pendant in the shape of a small flame clasped it closed at the neck. Fingerless gloves shot out black fiery blasts and he was slightly blurred with his edges ending in smoke trails.

He looked like the personification of the aftermath of a forest fire.

Adrien jumped behind a bench and coughed from the smoke.

“What’s your deal? Campfire go out?” Adrien tried to taunt, hoping to get the reason for the akumatization out of him.

“I’ve burned too bright for too long and given too much of myself. Well now I’m going to make everything go away.”

Adrien finally caught on to the fire symbolism. It was too strong, even for Hawkmoth. Something was wrong. One more look at the spikey hair Adrien had written off as part of the costume and it clicked.

Adrien knew he recognized the clasp on the cloak. It was the pendant he’d seen Chloe working on. Adrien knew exactly who she made it for.

“Kai.” Adrien said, dodging the next blackened blast.

“It’s Burnout now.”

Adrien tried to get out of sight a few more times, but Burnout just blasted every hiding place he found. He only could grab a few seconds out of sight, if he was lucky. Not enough to transform, but maybe enough to do something else.

“Plagg.” Adrien said, lifting his shirt to let the kwami out.

“What are-“

Adrien cut him off, taking his ring off.

“Find Lloyd. We need Ninja Noir for this.” Adrien said, handing the ring to his kwami.

Plagg almost argued but thought better of it.

“I guess he’d be better for this job anyways.” Plagg said, darting off.

Lloyd managed to get away from the panicking crowd, wondering if he needed to help out with this one, when Plagg floated right into his face.

“Plagg?”

“Ninja Noir.”

“What happened to Adrien?” Lloyd asked, reaching for the ring.

“Doesn’t matter. Lloyd, it’s Kai.”

Lloyd gently pushed the ring onto his finger.

“Then this should be pretty easy. Ladybug might not even need me.” Lloyd laughed.

Kai’s akumatization were almost always joke. Give him what he wanted, and he practically surrendered his akumatized object.

Plagg shook his head though.

“No, Kiddo, this is different.”

“What do you mean?” Lloyd asked, trying to not panic

“I mean this isn’t his usual stuff. I think Hawkmoth might’ve really gotten to hi this time.”

Lloyd’s eyes went wide.

“Plagg, Claws out!”

Chat Noir wasn’t showing up. She was pretty sure she knew what it was going to tell her, but she used her lucky charm just to be certain.

A painting she knew was in Fu’s home. She needed reinforcements.

She was on her way to go find wielders for the two miraculous she grabbed when she ran right into Ninja Noir.

“Ninja Noir!” she yelped, helping him stand back up. “I’m so glad you’re here. It’s Kai again, but something is different this time.”

“So I’ve heard.” Ninja Noir said as he brushed himself off.

“Lucky Charm said we needed reinforcements. I grabbed the Bee and the Dragon. I’m thinking Chloe would be a good choice since she knows Kai and has used the Bee Miraculous before. For the Dragon I was thinking maybe Lloyd?”

Ninja Noir coughed.

“Um…No good with Lloyd. He’s caught up somewhere, saw him on the way over. How about we divide and conquer. I think I could get this to his sister.”

“That’s probably a good idea. She should know him pretty well.” Ladybug said, passing Ninja Noir the Dragon Miraculous.

“I don’t need another needy little brat hanging off me!” Burnout shouted as he flung Ninja Noir off of him.

Lloyd tried to not let it show how personal the remark was. Kai didn’t know it was him under the mask.

“We need a plan!” Hydra said.

“Now might be a good time for a Lucky Charm!” Beatrix said as she pulled Hydra out of the line of fire.

Ladybug jumped off the roof to dodge another blast, rolling when she hit the ground and flinging herself upright as she yelled

“LUCKY CHARM!”

A camera.

Ladybug started to look around for anything that stood out.

A gargoyle, an empty ledge across the street where another one used to be before Burnout got rid of it, Beatrix’s top, Ninja noir, Hydra, and the mirrored windows on the office building.

“Got it.” She said, shoving her teammates in the directions of where they needed to go, giving them a brief rundown of their parts as she did.

Burnout came flying around the corner just after Ladybug got her trap set.

“Water Dragon!” Hydra yelled, soaking Burnout before he could line up any shots.

“Say cheese!” Ladybug yelled, clicking the camera and blinding him with the flash.

While Burnout tried to clear his eyes and figure out how to attack again, Beatrix came swinging in from behind the gargoyle, holding Ninja Noir.

“Cataclysm!” he yelled as he swung by, taking out the pendant and freeing the Akuma.

Ladybug quickly caught it while Beatrix caught a now detransformed Kai on her swing back.

“Miraculous Ladybug!” Ladybug yelled, throwing the camera in the air.

The magic ladybugs swept across Paris, bringing back everything Burnout had made “go away”.

“What? What happened!?” Kai yelled, trying to stand up, only to fall down on his unsteady legs.

“You were akumatized.” Ladybug explained.

“KAI!” Jay yelled form down the street. “Are you ok?!?”

Cole and Zane were not far behind him and the three were running full speed towards their friend.

“Well I’d better get going.” Hydra said.

“Yeah, me too. I’ll take your miraculous.” Ninja Noir added.

The two jetted off in the same direction.

“I…That was…..what did I do?” Kai finally asked.

“Nothing that couldn’t be fixed.” Ladybug assured him.

Kai didn’t look comforted.

“What got you akumatized anyways?” Beatrix asked.

“I…um….”

“You stressed yourself out again didn’t you?” Zane snapped.

“What?” Kai said.

“Ugh! You Always do this Kai! You are allowed to tell people no, you know!” Jay ranted

“I know that! Besides that wasn’t like that at-“

“Do you? Because sometimes you’re determined to take on more than you can handle!” Cole scolded with a hint of concern.

A beep from Ladybug’s earring interrupted them.

“Um…”

Beatrix nodded to her.

“I didn’t use my ability. I can keep this under control here while you go recharge.”

Ladybug looked a little hesitant, but another beep from her earrings and she was running off with a promise to be back soon.

As she left, Nya came running around the corner.

“Kai!” she yelled, while she tackled him in a hug “I was so worried! Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” Kai said as he gently pushed her off.

“You’re not!” Jay snapped.

“You were akumatized!” Cole added.

“Everybody gets akumatized!” Kai huffed, crossing his arms.

“Yes, but that was significantly more destructive than usual, meaning you were feeling stronger negative emotions.” Zane said.

“Hey guys! Sorry I’m late, I got stuck. Is Kai ok?” Lloyd said, running to them from another street.

“I’m fine!” Kai yelled.

“Stop it!” Zane said.

“You don’t have to fix everything for everyone.” Cole begged.

“I told you guys I was fine!”

“Kai please.” Nya begged.

“I SAID I WAS FINE!”

Beatrix rolled her eyes and made a move.

“Venom!”

And Kai was frozen.

“What did you do that for!?” Jay yelled.

Beatrix put a hand on her hip.

“No you guys can lecture him about selfcare without him arguing. You’ve got five minutes, make the most of it.” She said.

“Oh.” Jay said in surprise.

Ladybug came back into the middle of an improv intervention.

“And I should’ve been a better sister. I was being selfish and demanding and I should know better than that. Sometimes it’s just hard to accept that I don’t have you all to myself anymore. You know I’ve never been great at sharing.” Nya laughed, with tears in her eyes “But you need to tell me ‘no’ sometimes! I need to hear it, Kai. You can’t just let me push you like this; you have to tell me when you’re hurting!”

“Um….” Ladybug muttered.

“We’re just about done.” Beatrix said.

“You can’t just hide ailments from us, and that includes mental and emotional fatigue.” Zane added.

“Alright, I think my work here is done. See you all next time I’m needed!” Beatrix said, grabbing Ladybug’s arm and leading her away.

“You may’ve won this time, Ladybug. But now I know something I didn’t know before.” Hawkmoth said to himself.

He’d finally figured out how to weaponize Kai Smith. That boy was going to deliver him the miraculous if he wanted to or not. It was only a matter of time before Hawkmoth got the perfect champion out of him.

“It will require a very precise touch, but this boy will be my greatest weapon!”

so yeah, that’s done.

-Ivy

#Mod Ivy #lego ninjago #ninjago #blursed ninjago snippets #blursed ninjago aus #miraculous au

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dianaburnwood · 3 years

Note

Sorry for the inbox spam but it's so nice to talk about the game finally <3 were there any story or gameplay parts that you didn't like? Or is it too early to say?

Definitely never apologize for inbox spam about Hitman :)

My first impressions post is here, for those interested.

You’re asking me for story analysis here and this will get a bit rambley I’m sure, but sorry in advance because I have THOUGHTS

The status quo

Firstly, I will say that I applaud IO by telling the story they wanted to tell. Yes, absolutely, in many ways this was Blood Money 2.0, but it also delved into Absolution, Contracts, Silent Assassin, and Codename 47 (I can go into more detail on how it draws from all of them, but you can probably guess).

This trilogy, but especially this game, is a love letter to the entire Hitman series. It goes straight to the heart of what Hitman has been about since the very beginning. Choices. Freedom. Control. Fate. What does it mean to be human.

Not to sound up my own ass, but as a professional writer I knew they’d have to end with a return to the status quo. It’s the only way to leave the series open to continuation. Grey and Olivia had to be out of the picture by the end. I was shocked that Grey was killed so early though, but I have to say it was nice that he was actually true to 47 all along. I think 47 really needed that. We can delve deep into issues of survivor’s guilt here too, as Grey only died to protect 47. I guess he finally repaid his debt from Romania.

I do think the only fair way for Grey to die was to take himself out, and I appreciate that. He is honourable, he is righteous, he has his own code. He would never let himself be taken alive. And yet, I do wonder if he still would have shot himself if 47 wasn’t there. He might have let himself be taken and then work out a way to escape later. But in the end, he had no choice if he was to save 47. He wished they had more time - he didn’t even get to enjoy his freedom - but he got what he wanted and the story no longer needed him.

Gameplay

In terms of gameplay, there really isn’t anything I didn’t like. IOI went above and beyond in taking risks here. We got a linear level, we got a level with hidden targets, we got levels with non-target objectives, we got investigate gameplay, we got multiple partners to assist, we got narrative mission exits, etc. Tbh the most “traditional” level in terms of trilogy gameplay was Chongqing.

The camera and shortcut unlocks were a wonderful addition to the series, and it opens up the levels in great ways, with vents, walkways, passages, etc. Hitman maps are always extremely re-playable, but now? OMG, the possibilities seem endless.

It would have been all too easy for IOI to stick with what they knew worked. And I think that’s why they decided to go all out for the end of the trilogy. Now was the time to take risks if they were going to take them - and I’m so glad they did.

Character arc

I’ve written about this a bit already, but I’m gonna keep going :D

47. What are his choices? What could he choose?

In Mendoza, Diana offers him a chance for the future. She asks him about retiring somewhere like Mendoza, as he’s not going to work forever. And he responds saying he has started thinking about the future.

I really wonder how that future worked out - cos he took a year off at the end of the game. Where did he go? Did he keep to himself? Did he try to have a life? Did the loneliness, the isolation, the lack of purpose eat him alive until he came back to her?

What is the life that 47 wants for himself? We see his worst fears given a voice - Diana’s voice - when we get that wonderful look into his psyche. And Diana really dug deep here, and wow, it hurt to watch. We all knew she was pulling a Blood Money, but with ICA/Providence guards all around them, she really had to let 47 have it. And yet, while she spat vicious words for show, she used the opportunity to forgive him. To let him know that he didn’t have a choice in killing her parents, and she knew it.

But damn. 47 trusted Diana without question. Unwavering loyalty, all the way through this trilogy. And yet, doubt crept in. Her words gnaw at his own worst fears about himself - and in case we missed it, Grey spells it out for us :D Grey, representing 47′s emotions, shaking off his fears, and knowing that Diana was giving him the only opportunity to get close to Edwards.

Rationally he would have known that Diana would never do this to him. But the psychological analysis of 47 in this game is really superb. He worries that he is just the tool that Providence made him to be. That his life with Diana, the ICA, the contracts, it was all “a wall to shield him” from that terrible truth.

So, what’s the alternative? Give it up. Run away. He tried it before at the end of C47, but he was running from the past. This time, he realises through the voice of Diana that he must embrace the past. That’s the only way forward.

And so he does. And I love that. Because 47 can never get away from the fact that he is an engineered killer. Before, in Silent Assassin and Blood Money, that fact angered him. It made him feel trapped, alone. Now, he has a new perspective. He chooses the truth he likes. He needs to embrace his past to be released from it. He needs to finally, FINALLY, come to terms with who he is, what he has done, and what he needs to do to move on.

Is this a conscience developing? I’ve talked a lot about his emotions before, and how we have seen him experience guilt. Is that growing? I’m not so sure. I think it’s more that he knows he has done wrong, he knows that feels wrong, but he does want to do what’s right. And so, he chooses his life this time, as an antidote, a foil, to corruption.

Because he truly believes that Diana is untouchable. She is incorruptible.

But in choosing this life for himself, he is still a weapon, a tool to be wielded, and he trusts Diana to quite literally point him in the right direction. But is that enough to be happy?

The thing with 47 is that I think happiness will always be out of his reach. But freedom? He has to choose that for himself. He’s not ready to let Diana go - perhaps even less ready than Diana herself at this stage. HITMAN 3 really shoved his loyalty for her in our faces from the beginning. And after 20 years, they have trust, they have affection, they have devotion to each other. So the real question is, in choosing Diana, has 47 chosen his own path? Or is he still choosing to have her pick it for him?

And is choosing someone better than choosing something?

#hitman 3 #hitman 3 story analysis #hitman3spoilers #hitman 3 narrative #47 emotions #Anon

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jadejedi · 3 years

Text

Love Does Not Fail (7/?)

Summary: When Anakin saves the galaxy from Palpatine, Padmé and his children survive, but their family is split apart nonetheless. Leia is taken to be raised in the Temple, not knowing that the Jedi who “found” her is actually her father. Luke grows up with Padmé, knowing only his mother’s side of the family. But some things are inevitable.

Chapter Summary: A new darkness arises in the galaxy.

ao3 link: here

A/N: Sorry it’s been nearly ten months lmao. Oops. Thanks for reading, let me know what you think! (more notes and thoughts on ao3)

“Are you sure that this is the best time to start dragging him around the galaxy?” Anakin asked Ahsoka skeptically, with a bit of an edge to it. She knew he was protective of Luke, and she respected that but-

“I am his teacher, Anakin,” she reminded him, trying to keep her tone gentle rather than defensive . They met about once a month, usually at some diner or bar in what she wouldn’t necessarily describe as a shady part of Coruscant, but shady-adjacent, perhaps, to catch up and talk about Luke’s training. “He’s ready to do some travelling without Padmé. And it’s not like it’ll be anything different than what he does with Padmé, anyways. Just more of a focus on training.”

At the still unconvinced expression on his face, Ahsoka sighed, and softened. “I promise I’ll be extra careful on what assignments we take him on. We won’t get involved in this Snoke guy’s business.”

“I know,” Anakin sighed. “I still don’t like it.”

As much as she believed Luke was ready to do some travelling with her and Barriss, she understood Anakin’s worries. Five months ago marked the beginning of a new Senate rotation. Bail Organa’s time as Chancellor was over, as he had set stricter term limits for the office. Mon Mothma had been elected Chancellor, and her Vice Chancellor was now Mazun Dul, the Senator from Corellia.

Dul’s election had been troubling to many, as he represented a new political party that had arisen with Palpatine’s downfall. They called themselves the First Order. Their leader, Corellia’s new prime minister, a man called Snoke, pushed for Republic expansion in the Outer Rim as well as less Republic intervention in already ‘civilized’ worlds.

The First Order was good at playing around the issue, but Ahsoka, as well as Padmé and many others, could tell that they held the same anti-alien sentiments that Palpatine had secretly harboured.

Since the election of Snoke, Corellia had been swept up in violence, from both its criminal element and from his political detractors. Other worlds that also had a First Order presence had also started experiencing small amounts of violence, usually protests gone south, or riots.

“Look, whatever Snoke is playing at, he won’t get very far,” Ahsoka tried to reassure him. “People are still wary of conflict so soon after the Clone Wars. They’ll get tired of the violence he’s stirring up. And I promise we’ll stay away from worlds with a First Order presence; we’re going to Kashyyk. Since Wookies have a long history of being exploited in this kind of conflict, their leaders are worried. Padmé just needs us to go and calm them down a bit. We’ll be talking to their leaders, then delivering supplies to an area affected by a storm; we’ll be fine.”

Ahsoka was the best person for this job, because she understood Shyriiwook, and she knew one of their leaders.

Anakin gave her a look. “Isn’t that where you got kidnapped and hunted for sport?”

“That was Trandosha,” she corrected him. “It’s close by, but we’ll be coming from a totally different direction,” she assured him. “We won’t even be passing by it.”

“Fine,” Anakin assented begrudgingly, even though Ahsoka wasn’t really looking for his permission.

“Make sure you keep your lightsabers out of sight,” Anakin reminded her, and she had to keep herself from rolling her eyes.

“I’m not stupid,” she told him, raising an eyebrow.

“I never said you were!”

“You’ve got to trust that I know what I’m doing, Anakin.” She sighed. “The lightsaber laws are nothing new. Barriss and I would never do anything that would put Luke or Padmé at risk.”

Years ago, not long after Bail Organa had been elected Chancellor, there had been some debate about the Sith, and whether or not it was illegal to hold such beliefs. However, it had not been popular to criminalize an entire religion, so instead, certain measures had been put into place to appease the Jedi, such as making it illegal to carry or wield a lightsaber unless one was a member of the Order.

Ahsoka continued to carry her lightsaber anyways, concealed away in a pocket or in a bag.

“How is Leia?” she asked, changing the subject.

Anakin did not look impressed by her attempt to move on, but did so anyway. “She’s doing well, I think. She’s near the top of her clan in lightsaber skills.”

“Have you ever considered teaching more than just lightsaber classes?” she asked.

“No,” he replied with a shake of his head. “My teachings aren’t very orthodox.”

She laughed. “No, they’re not.” She smiled at him. “I learned a lot from you in just three years, and lightsaber duels was only a bit of it.”

“Me and the Jedi ways don’t get along very well,” he insisted.

Ahsoka shook her head, exasperated. “Anakin, you always complain about the things the Jedi teach, but you never bother to teach yourself.”

Anakin crossed his arms defensively. “I’m more of a duelist than a philosopher. I’m doing my best with them, Snips.”

Ahsoka softened. “I know you are. I’m sure Leia appreciates having you around, even if she doesn’t know why. But, I really think that you could be a good influence on them. Don’t you? Give them a new perspective?”

“I’m sure Obi-Wan would be thrilled that I’m taking an interest in philosophy,” he agreed after a moment of consideration. “I don’t know about everyone else.”

She laughed.

Ahsoka went straight to the apartment she shared with Barriss after lunch. Luke wouldn’t be done with school for another couple of hours, and the Senate was more Padmé and Dormé’s realm. She could use the time to pack for the trip to Kashyyyk.

She found Barriss meditating in the living room of the apartment. Where Ahsoka tended to prefer wearing jumpsuits when she was working or, if she was working on official business of the Naboo Senatorial office, something similarly functional with a bit more professionalism, Barriss preferred a slightly more elegant look, just as she had as Jedi. Today, she was wearing a flowy black skirt and a nice but comfortable looking blue blouse.

“How did it go?” she asked, eyes still closed in meditation.

“Well,” Ahsoka said as she pulled off her shoes and made her way over to the sofa behind her, “he tried to talk me out of it,” she said, leaning back against the sofa, “but he relented eventually.”

“His fear controls him,�� Barriss said after a moment, opening her eyes and relaxing her posture slightly, turning to face Ahsoka.

“It does not!” she disagreed, although sometimes she thought otherwise. “Luke’s his son, it’s natural for him to worry. And hey, he changed his mind, didn’t he? He’s always given me room to train Luke as I see fit.”

Barriss nodded her head, conceding the point. “Fair enough. He’s still not good at controlling his emotions,” she continued before Ahsoka could come to Anakin’s defense again.

Ahsoka sighed. Since being released from prison, and even before, Barriss had believed that her fall had been due to her emotions- fear, anger, hate. So, now she strove to rid herself of those emotions, to feel peace.

Ahsoka didn’t disagree that Barriss’s actions against the Jedi had been motivated by those emotions, but she thought that maybe there was more to it than that.

Luke, for all that he was a child, did not seem to struggle with the same parts of his training than she, and most young Jedi, had. Peace came easily to him. Maybe it was his personality, but that’s not all it was. He was a very sweet, gentle child, but he was still impatient, reckless. Ahsoka privately thought that his peace came from the fact that he didn’t have to struggle with his emotions. He just- felt.

Maybe that was making it too easy for him, and it would backfire later, but for now, Ahsoka was content to continue down their current path. Sometimes the easy path was easy because it was a shortcut, a dangerous way to get to one’s goal, but sometimes the easy path was easy simply because it means you’re doing it right.

So, she taught Luke to not try and separate himself from his emotions, but to be in harmony with them, and she was trying to teach herself the same thing.

But Barriss disagreed.

“Maybe trying to control our emotions at all is what is dangerous,” Ahsoka suggested hesitantly, leaning forward, bracing her elbows on her knees.

Barriss shook her head, her intense blue eyes pointed at the ground. “If we don’t control our emotions, then they will control us.” She reached up to fiddle with the ends of her dark hair that she kept shoulder length, longer than when they’d been Padawans. She was beautiful, as she always had been. She looked up; her eyes held Ahsoka’s gaze. “Emotions like that are like an ocean. Fear, anger, and hatred-”

“And love,” Ahsoka added.

Barriss nodded, face still passive. “And love. They’ll toss you around, try to drown you, sweep you off the shore. You have to build a wall, to protect yourself from it.”

“The ocean doesn’t try to do anything. It just is,” Ahsoka countered. “If you learn to swim, or have a boat, then you’re safe.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”

Ahsoka huffed and leaned back against the sofa. She knew what Barriss was saying. That the ocean- emotions- would always be dangerous. Even if you could swim, or be safely in a boat, there were always dangers lurking beneath the surface. Not to mention the storms.

Leia sat in one of the Temple’s small meditation rooms alone. Normally she meditated with her clan, but right now, she just needed time alone.

She took in a deep breath, holding it in for a moment, and exhaling slowly. She repeated the exercise a few times until she felt centered.

She’d had a dream last night. It hadn’t been a normal dream, like her reoccurring dream about falling into one of the fountains in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, or even a nightmare.

In the dream, she’d seen faces, people. A woman she could barely make out, with curly brown hair and a kind smile. A man with curly dark blond hair. A few others, another woman, more distant with darker hair, and a humanoid alien of some kind that was too blurry to recognize. And a child.

She couldn’t tell if she was the child, or if she was watching the child. She saw them all against the background of a green meadow. It felt slow, idyllic, peaceful.

Leia tried to focus, tried to see their faces clearly, but she couldn’t.

The dream, it was beautiful, but sad.

It was her family, she knew. She wondered if the dream was sad because it made her sad, or if the memory itself was sad. It felt like a beautiful memory.

Leia did another round of breathing exercises and tried to push past the memory. She focused on the emotions the dream stirred up in her: sadness, confusion, wanting.

She repeated the Jedi Code silently in her mind as she breathed, releasing her emotions into the Force.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

Her sadness was only disturbing the peace within her; she had to let it go.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.

She pushed away her confusion, focusing on what she knew. The dream was of her family, but they were not important. She was a Jedi, the Jedi were her family.

There is no passion, there is only serenity.

Love, Leia knew, was passion. Family, attachments, these things broke the serenity of a Jedi’s mind. She didn’t want them.

There is no chaos, there is only harmony.

Her mind must be calm, pushing away the emotions. She must be at one with all around her.

There is no death, there is only the Force.

The Force contained all things, and when something died, it was absorbed into the Force. Her time with her family was dead. It had lived when the Force had needed it to, but that time had passed, and all was as the Force willed it.

With one last deep breath, Leia slowly got up from her meditation pose and found herself heading not towards where she knew her clan’s history lesson was supposed to start, but towards the part of the Temple where most of the Knight’s quarters were.

She walked purposefully, but not too quickly, trying to pretend like she belonged here during a part of the day when most initiates were in classes, until she reached Jedi Skywalker’s door. She hesitated only briefly before knocking.

She felt him reach out to see who was at his door. Hi, she projected.

After a moment, he opened the door, a confused smile on his face. “Leia, it’s good to see you,” he said. “Shouldn’t you be in classes?”

She looked him in the eye. “I’m skipping,” she told him matter-of-factly.

He gave her a surprised grin. “Well, then, come on in,” he said, motioning her into his quarters.

Leia had first been in Jedi Skywalker’s quarters about three years ago. She’d been sad, she remembered, because she’d worried that moving into her clan bunks meant that he wouldn’t be able to do her hair any more. He’d shown her where his room was, and had told her to stop by anytime she wanted her hair done.

His quarters were small, plain grey walls just like in her clan’s bunk. There were blinds half closed over the windows, a sofa, and a tiny kitchenette in one corner, and a door to his bedroom in the other.

“So,” he said, closing the door after her and sitting cross-legged on the sofa, “Do you want to tell me why you’re skipping your classes?”

She sat down on the floor across from him, adopting the same posture and gave him a look. “I wanted to talk to you, obviously.”

He chuckled. “Of course. And what was it you wanted to talk about?”

Leia glanced down at her hands in her lap. “Do you ever have sad dreams?” she asked him, not sure whether to directly ask him about her family.

“Sad dreams?” he asked, considering. “Not nightmares?”

She shook her head.

“Yes, I guess I have.”

“What do they mean?” she asked. “Are they visions?”

He sighed. “Well, I imagine that that depends on the dream.” He smiled sadly. “Sometimes the Force gives us dreams that mean something, but sometimes, a dream is just a dream. Maybe it’s a reflection of our day, or a memory, or something you want.”

“My dream was about my family, I think,” she admitted. “I could barely make them out. But in the dream, I wanted to be with them. Is it bad?” she asked, quietly.

A shadow crossed over his face. “No, it’s not bad.”

“It’s not?” she asked hopefully.

“No.” His expression was as serious as she’d ever seen it. “Leia, you can’t control what you dream.”

“But what if my dreams are a reflection, like you said? A reflection of what I want? Master Yoda says that Jedi should not want attachments.”

He huffed. “We all have attachments, even Master Yoda.”

Leia looked at him skeptically. She found that hard to believe. “Really?”

“Yes, really!” he said, his serious expression breaking into a slight grin. “Attachment isn’t something we can simply not have. Jedi are taught to have compassion, after all, which is a form of unconditional love. That compassion is bound to lead us towards attachments.”

Leia crossed her arms. “I don’t think that’s what that means,” she disagreed.

He laughed slightly. “Maybe not,” he muttered. “It doesn’t matter what it’s supposed to mean,” he said, more clearly. “You don’t have to agree with me, or Master Yoda, or Master Seminaria. As you get older, you’ll have to make up your own mind. There is more than one right way to be a Jedi, Leia.”

She nodded in understanding, feeling a bit better about her dream. She still wasn’t sure if she agreed completely, but he was right that she didn’t control her dreams. It didn’t make her a bad Jedi.

He stood up with a brief smile, offering a hand to help her up. “C’mon, I’ll walk you back to your class. I have my own class that is starting soon, actually.”

“A lightsaber class?” Leia asked.

“Not quite,” he said as he led them out of his quarters. “Philosophy, actually.”

“I didn’t know you taught Jedi theology,” she remarked. She was kind of surprised that they let him. Everyone knew that Jedi Skywalker wasn’t a typical Jedi.

He chuckled, seeming to sense her reaction. “It doesn’t really seem like my thing, does it?”

She shrugged, her cheeks heating up.

“Well, you’re right; it isn’t. But I’ve been talked into it. This is only my second class; Obi-wan is letting me cover for him while he is off-planet.”

“Master Kenobi is letting you?” she asked, disbelieving that Jedi Skywalker would want to teach that kind of class

He hesitated for a moment, before replying. “Yes. I was talked into it by my former padawan.”

“She’s alive?” Leia blurted without thinking.

Jedi Skywalker glanced down at her and gave a wry chuckle. “Is that a rumor? No, she’s not dead. She just left. She’s still on Coruscant, even; she works for the Naboo senatorial office.”

“Oh,” Leia said. That must be why he knows so much about Naboo. She wanted to ask why his padawan had left, but wasn’t really sure how, so instead she just followed him silently. Ezra had told them that his padawan had been kicked out, but Jedi Skywalker had just said ‘left’.

“You’re thinking very loudly,” he commented after about a minute of walking in silence. He stopped walking, turning to look at her. “You have questions,” he stated, matter of factly. Leia nodded, feeling shy all of the sudden, even though she’d known Jedi Skywalker practically all her life.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, looking down at her shoes.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he said kindly. “I don’t mind if you ask me your questions. In fact, I’d rather you do that than continue to feed the Temple rumor mill,” he said wryly.

Leia looked back up at him, nodding. “Okay, so your padawan-”

“Ahsoka,” he interrupted.

“So, Ahsoka,” she corrected herself, “You said she left the Order. Did she leave on her own?”

He sighed, crossing his arms. “She chose to leave, if that’s what you mean. But she wasn’t given much of a choice, if you ask me.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He glanced down at his chrono. “We’ve got to get moving,” he said. “Ahsoka’s decision-” he sighed. “It was complicated.” He gave her a considering look. “I’ll tell you about it when you’re older.”

Leia huffed. He said she could ask questions, but apparently that really only meant one question.

Padmé smiled as Anakin’s speeder landed on her apartment’s landing pad. She didn’t always wait out for him; sometimes he forgot to let her know he was on his way, and he wasn’t always able to come over at the same time, and sometimes she herself got so caught up in her work, and he’d come into her office in the apartment, gently cajoling her away from her work.

But today she waited for him outside, sighing happily as he swept her into his arms. She wound her arms around his neck, breathing in his scent as she could feel his chest expand and contract with a deep sigh of relief.

He set her down, his flesh hand coming up to cup her cheek as he bent down to kiss her. She stood on her toes to meet him, one hand coming up to grasp his shoulder, the other winding into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I spoke to Leia today,” he told her with a small smile as they separated, and her hands came to rest on his shoulders, while his rested on her waist, thumbs stroking in place.

“You did?” Hearing her daughter’s name brought a smile to her face, even as a jolt of sorrow swept through her.

He hummed in confirmation. “She dreams of us,” he said, in a voice thick with emotion. “She came to me, to ask if her dreams were bad, if they were against the Code.”

Padmé wondered what Leia saw in her dreams of them. Could she feel the sorrow that had run beneath the surface of that year on Naboo?

“What did you tell her?” she asked.

“I told her that we can’t control our dreams any more than we can control who we love,” he said, his bright blue eyes meeting hers.

She smiled sadly. “I’m glad she comes to you for advice. It means she trusts you.”

“She reminds me of you,” he said. “Her big brown eyes, her curiosity, her kindness,” his soft expression changed into a mischievous one as he continued, “her stubbornness.”

Padmé laughed. “Oh, my stubbornness? I think that’s something she got from you,” she insisted.

“It’s definitely from you,” he disagreed, chuckling. “You should see the expression she makes when she disagrees with me. It’s a look I’m familiar with.”

She gave him a look, and he laughed. “There, that’s the one!” he exclaimed, laughing slightly as he leaned down to kiss her cheek.

“How’s Luke?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Well, I haven’t heard from Ahsoka yet, so I assume they’re still in hyperspace,” she told him. They’d left not long after Luke got home from school; Luke had been so excited to go on his first ‘solo’ mission that he’d basically dragged Ahsoka and Barriss out of the door. He’d even packed yesterday without her even having to tell him to.

Anakin looked surprised by this information. “Hyperspace?” he asked.

“To Kashyyyk, remember?” Padmé reminded him. “I thought Ahsoka talked to you about it yesterday.”

His forehead creased. “I guess I didn’t realize that she was planning on leaving so soon.”

“They’ll be fine, Anakin,” she reassured him. “It’s just a simple relief mission. Trust Ahsoka and Barriss to keep him safe.”

“I do trust Ahsoka,” he said slowly, “but are you sure you’re entirely comfortable with letting Barriss spend so much time around Luke?”

“I’m sure,” she said simply. And she was. Barriss was troubled, she knew, much like someone else she knew, but she regretted what she’d done. And more than anything, she trusted Ahsoka’s judgement. She’d spent a lot of time with Barriss over the years, and if she thought it was safe, then Padmé would agree with her.

When Anakin still looked troubled, Padmé stepped back, towards the apartment, grabbing one of his hands to pull him after her. “Ani,” she said with a slightly exasperated smile, “I know you’re worried, but you’ll have time to worry tomorrow. Right now, we have the whole apartment to ourselves; let’s go inside.”

He followed her inside, where it was just the two of them; the outside world and all of its troubles melted away.

Luke was all but vibrating with excitement as the ramp lowered to reveal the world of Kashyyyk. He glanced up at either side of him, first to Barriss on his left, and then to Ahsoka on his right. Threepio followed behind them, ready to act as translator when Ahsoka couldn’t. She smiled at him, placing a hand on his shoulder. His first mission without his mom; it was a big deal.

At the end of the ramp waited members of the King’s council, as well as the local Chieftain, and a couple of generals.

They bowed to the Wookie at the head of the group, and he bowed in return, growling out what Luke assumed to be a greeting. Luke wasn’t as good at languages as Ahsoka and Barriss were.

“Thank you for welcoming us on behalf of his Majesty. Queen Layarria and Senator Amidala of Naboo send their greetings,” Ahsoka said, before turning to Luke and Barriss. “This is the Senator’s son, Luke Naberrie, and Barriss Offee, my fellow representative from Senator Amidala’s office.”

There were more greetings all around, which Luke watched, half interested. He poked at Barriss’ mind, knowing she couldn’t speak Shyriiwook, and instead of a poke back, like he might get with Ahsoka, she just turned and glanced at him, eyebrow raised. He shot her a grin, and he did finally feel an echo of a laugh through the Force. He knew Barriss liked to act like she was so serious, but she was a pretty nice person.

“Reach out with the Force, Luke,” she instructed, leaning down slightly to whisper to him. “Try and feel the emotions of those around you. Be aware of your surroundings.” She gave him a small smile. “Maybe then you won’t feel so left out.”

“Yes, Barriss,” Luke said, dutifully. He did as she said, reaching out with his feelings, and to his surprise, rather than just the calm emotions he expected, he felt a jolt of excitement from one of the Wookies in the back.ff

Luke’s eyes widened when said Wookie swept Ahsoka up in a big hug, roaring a particularly enthusiastic greeting.

“Oh! Chewbacca!” she said with some surprise in her voice. “It’s good to see you, too, old friend.” When he set her down, they talked back and forth for a bit, and Luke found it a bit difficult to only follow half of a conversation, though he could feel that this Chewbacca was happy to see them.

“They certainly seem very friendly,” Threepio remarked behind them.

“Of course they are,” Barriss said with her characteristic calmness and aura of all-knowingness that Luke knew drove Ahsoka batty. “The Wookies have long been very supportive members of the Republic. They have always strove to maintain good relations with other planets, even if that desire hasn’t always been reciprocated.”

“Mom said that Wookies are one of the most noble and loyal species that exist in the Republic,” Luke added, proud to show that he was listening when they talked about politics.

Barriss nodded. “That’s right. That’s why it’s so important to maintain good relations with them. We can’t just neglect them because they’ve always been there; we have to show them we value them.”

“Which is why we’re bringing aid.”

“Exactly.” At this Barriss shot him another little smile, to show that she was proud of him. Luke smiled back, because he knew it was hard for her to show that kind of thing. He’d heard Ahsoka scold her for it more than once.

Eventually, Ahsoka turned back to them.

“Barriss, Luke, this is Chewbacca. We go way back.” Luke smiled up at the tall Wookie. He was so tall; all the Wookies were. Even taller than Jedi Skywalker, who was pretty tall.

“Chewie, this is Luke. He’s here to learn,” she explained vaguely. “And this is Barriss. We grew up together,” she said, giving Chewie a look. Luke knew this was her way of explaining that Barriss was also a former Jedi, without saying so outright. Being a former Jedi wasn’t bad, Luke knew, but there also weren’t a lot of them, so Barriss and Ahsoka tended not to mention it. Especially because Barriss had done bad things in the past as a Jedi.

Chewie roared something, motioning them forward. Ahsoka turned back to them to translate. “He says that first we will meet with the King and his council, and then we will be transported to the nearby village that was hit in the recent storm.”

Luke and Barriss followed Ahsoka, Chewie, and the other Wookies through the winding path of stairs and bridges that connected the giant wroshyr trees. It was beautiful, Luke thought, as long as you didn’t look down.

Barriss must have noticed him looking at the railing uncertainty because she grabbed his hand, shooting him a small smile. “Your mother will have my head if you fall out of one of these trees,” she told him quietly. Luke let her, even though he didn’t really think he needed his hand held now that he was eight. It was a long way down, and his mother would be extremely upset with Barriss and Ahsoka if he got hurt.

“Are you scared of my mother?” he asked her with a grin.

“Oh, absolutely,” she said with a solemn nod. “More than any Separatist or battle droid I’ve ever faced.”

His grin widened, and he held tightly to Barriss’ hand for the rest of the journey to one of the highest platforms in the capital city, where the King met with his council.

The King was even a bit taller and larger than the rest of the Wookies, dark, near black fur peppered with silver throughout. He sat in an innocuous looking chair at the head of the circular platform, and the three members of the council took their spot in chairs on either side of the King, with the other Wookies who’d accompanied them moving to stand next to those seated. That left just the four of them, Luke, Barriss, Ahsoka, and Threepio, standing facing the Wookies. Even though Luke knew that the Wookies were loyal members of the Republic, there was still something intimidating about the sight.

Luke remembered what Barriss told him earlier, and he reached out with the Force again. This time, he felt stronger emotions. Fear, worry, permeated the council.

The King began speaking in the growls of Shyriiwook, with Threepio translating.

“His Majesty, King Rrayyywk of Kashyyyk, welcomes the ambassadors from Naboo. He thanks Naboo for their aid, and for allowing his majesty to share his concerns. He says that their representative in the Senate has had a difficult time being heard these days.” That didn’t surprise Luke. While he didn’t sit in on as many Senate sessions as he used to, now that he was in school, he still did occasionally, and not many beings had their voices heard. It was usually just a lot of yelling.

“Your Majesty,” Ahsoka began, “We are happy to carry your concerns back to Senator Amidala, but to be honest, the Senate is very much at a standstill. With Chancellor Mothma and Vice Chancellor Dul being from opposing parties, it is hard to get anything onto the floor these days.”

King Rrayyywk growled mournfully. “His Majesty understands,” Threepio dutifully translated. “It is Vice Chancellor Dul that he is worried about,” and at this, the other Wookies made noises of agreement. “Him, and the other members of the First Order. It is no secret that the First Order has begun implementing anti-alien policies on several planets. Several close enough to make the Wookies nervous. They already have enough problems from Trandosha, without having to worry about Hapes, Valgauth, and Onderon as well.”

Luke sensed surprise from Ahsoka. “Onderon? King Dendup may have been neutral before the Clone Wars, but they’ve-”

King Rrayywk interrupted with a curt growl. “His majesty says that a single victory does not heal all wounds,” translated Threepio. “Onderon may have joined the Republic, but that does not mean it is a planet of one mind. The First Order has a presence there. It may be small, but that may not matter.”

“To be honest, I think you have a right to be worried, Your Majesty,” Barriss said, speaking up. “The First Order is stirring unrest in people’s hearts. Preying on the vulnerable state of the galaxy. I, more than most, know how easy it is to be swayed when you are already conflicted.”

“His Majesty asks what can be done? Is Senator Amidala working to fight the First Order? Are the Jedi?”

Ahsoka shot a quick glance at Barriss that Luke couldn’t decipher. “At the moment, there is nothing to fight. They’re just a political party, but-”

“King Rrayywk reminds you that the Sith were just a religion.”

“That’s not the same,” Ahsoka said quickly, shaking her head.

Luke shifted uncomfortably as some of the Wookies shook their heads and muttered. He didn’t know much about the First Order, but what he did know, he knew from his mother. It was strange to hear these Wookies, strong, proud, creatures, seem so afraid of anything.

Ahsoka seemed like she was going to continue, when Barriss stepped in again. “Senator Amidala shares your concerns. She has always fought for the equality of all beings, starting with the Gungans on her home planet, and has always been a voice for equality in the Senate.”

King Rrayywk sighed and growled out a response. “His Majesty thanks the office of Senator Amidala for listening to his concerns, and hopes that Senator Amidala will ally with alien species against the First Order, if the time should come.”

Ahsoka and Barriss bowed their heads in acknowledgement, and Luke did as well. Then, the Chieftain of the city, howled something at them, stepping forward, and directing them back the way they came. “Chieftain Varu asks that you follow him. He will take you to your transport.”

Anakin was just finishing a lightsaber class with Mara Jade’s clan Dalgo when Obi-Wan commed him and asked to meet. He knew Obi-Wan had just gotten back from Corellia- he had gone on a diplomatic mission to meet with Prime Minister Snoke- and had been debriefing with the council. He dismissed the younglings and hurried to Obi-Wan’s quarters, as Anakin sensed it was urgent.

Anakin found Obi-Wan seated in meditation on the floor of the very small living space in his quarters. “What’s so important that you comm me while I’m in class?” he demanded as he walked in. He wasn’t actually upset, more worried than anything. Obi-Wan wasn’t one to make a big deal out of nothing.

“Sit down,” he said curtly, turning to look at him, a frown etched onto his face. “I’ve just learned troubling news. It will be common knowledge soon enough.”

He complied, sitting next to him and assuming a meditation pose. He knew that, while meditation wasn’t his favorite thing, it helped Obi-Wan immensely, and he might as well go along with it.

“I’ve learned that Prime Minister Snoke has the Force. That he uses the dark side.”

Anakin jolted. “What? Another Sith? How can this be?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “He claims not to be a Sith. And in the loosest sense, that seems to be true. It seems that this Snoke was an acolyte, of sorts, of Sidious, back when Sidious was just a Sith apprentice himself. Snoke told me that while Sidious taught him how to use the dark side, he never taught him the ways of the Sith.”

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan incredulously. “He told you this?”

“Oh, yes,” Obi-Wan sighed. “He was quite eager to tell me all about himself. Gleeful, even. He knows that we can’t touch him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he hasn’t done anything illegal!” Obi-Wan exclaimed in frustration. “As far as we can tell, he had no association with the Separatists. He was a private citizen before running for office. His ship building corporation builds private vessels, not warcraft, so he never had contracts with either side. He’s never done anything illegal, hasn’t been implicated in any crimes, doesn’t carry a lightsaber, and ended his association with Sidious before his illegal activity began. He simply hasn’t violated Republic law.” He shook his head, glancing down at the floor.

Anakin heard the defeat in Obi-Wan’s voice, and felt his own heart begin to race, fear creeping into his veins. “That’s not possible. I restored balance to the Force. It’s-it’s only been eight years.” He shook his head, unsure of what to say. He didn’t know how to put into words the combination of fear and frustration that flooded him.

Obi-Wan looked up at that, and put a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. “You did restore balance. You destroyed the Sith. One man with a few years of bare bones instruction into the dark side is not the same thing.”

Anakin shook his head. “I didn’t want my children to have to worry about this like I did. A mysterious dark sider pulling strings in the galaxy.”

He thought of what Qui-Gon’s ghost had told him all those years ago, on Naboo. He’d never told Obi-Wan about that. He’d never told anyone about that. According to Qui-Gon, he hadn’t restored balance. Not yet. He’d said there was more to do. On Mortis, it had all been very literal, controlling the Brother and the Sister at once, holding them in balance. But in the real world, he didn’t know.

“Maybe there’s more to bringing balance to the Force than just destroying the Sith,” Anakin mused aloud.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “More? And what might that ‘more’ be?”

Anakin shot him a grin. “I don’t know, Master. I suppose we’ll have to figure that out.”

#love does not fail #star wars fic #anidala fic #skywalker family #my fic #star wars #sw #anidala #alternate chapter summary: Luke's lesbian aunts take him on a vacation #also if any of the snoke stuff is confusing pls pls go and read #my super duper end of chapter notes on ao3 #i explain it in detail there

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frickfrackapplesnack · 4 years

Text

Truth Be Told Geralt x Reader

Request 1: So just like some cute fluff or something would be great (and a a bit of angst never killed nobody)

Request 2: Can I get some Geralt and reader fluff? I've been in a biG holiday depression funk so I was looking for like;; him helping her through a bad episode and like just being dorky to try and cheer her up n shit?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1883

A/N: I’m sorry if it’s a little OOC and if my writing isn’t up to par, it is very late over here. Also, no hate to Yennefer, I love her.

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The wind was cold and harsh against the faces of travellers. As it should be so high up in the mountains; mother nature made sure that some places be more dangerous than others and thus the higher you went the harder it was to survive. Despite knowing that the harshness of the wind was normal and that she had agreed to come along on this quest Y/N’s fears were not quenched. It had only been a day ago that they had started their ascent and only two that she was safe sitting inside an inn drinking beer. She tried now to remember how warm it had been inside the wooden walls, tried to remember the burning sensation in her throat as she drank what was possibly the worst beer in her life while watching Jaskier flirt with any woman who walked through the door. Or, perhaps how shocked she had been when the old man Borch Three Jackdaws had sat at their table asking Geralt to assist in slaying a dragon. The idea had almost been as ridiculous as the man’s name and for a moment it seemed out of the question. But when a certain witch had walked through the door Geralt agreed almost instantly despite Y/N’s and Jaskier’s protests.

So now here they were on the side of a mountain, risking their lives all because Geralt wanted to show off and get laid. Y/N rolled her eyes at the thought glaring daggers at the witch standing only inches in front of her. “You’re right” Jaskier’s voice cut through Y/N’s brooding bringing her back to the moment. “This is a shortcut…to death” he gulped and looked back at Y/N who rolled her eyes giving a quick glance to the Witcher standing next to her; Jaskier sighed. Lightly touching his arm Y/N attempted to bring Geralt’s attention to her, however, his eyes remained on the horizon grunting as he gave the suggestion of turning back. ‘At least he has some sense’ Y/N thought.

“No, we’re very close” Borch. “And how could you possibly know that?” Y/N asked folding her arms over her chest. “We’re not going anywhere if we fall to our deaths.”

“Y/N…” Geralt warned.

“Don’t belittle me Geralt,” Y/N sneered. “I am not a child…this is too dangerous”

“It is a perfectly fine route” The leading dwarf growled, “As long as you don’t look down.”

Shoving her way past Geralt Y/N moved toward the front of the group, having no desire to walk behind the person she wanted so badly to push off the side of this mountain. If it weren’t for Geralt’s crush, then they wouldn’t be risking their lives right now.

-------------

When they had made it across and the time had come to set up tents Y/N’s mood had only worsened. Not only had they lost the lives of Borch and his companions but Geralt had risked his own life trying to save them; all because he wanted to show Yennefer how heroic he could be. But, despite the nagging voice at the back of her mind telling her that Geralt had wanted to save Borch because he was an innocent man she couldn’t shake the feeling that everything the Witcher did these days was because of her. Because he was smitten with a dark, beautiful and powerful woman. If truth be told Y/N was jealous, but she would never admit it to herself or anybody else. She sighed, taking a moment to admire the sunset abandoning the work on her newly pitched tent. One would never see a view like this from the ground, so magnificently beautiful it could bring any ordinary person to tears. Looking at it now it was as if someone had taken a paintbrush and struck the canvas in uneven violent strokes but creating something quite the opposite.

Jaskier and Geralt were sitting together on a rock close to the cliff edge, speaking to each other Y/N unable to identify what they could be saying. She sighed giving one last glance to the sky before retiring to her tent. Ready to sleep away her troubles.

It was not long after Y/N had set up a place to sleep within the linen walls that someone else entered the tent. She did not bother to look up, already hearing the sound of Geralt’s leather armour as he moved toward her. “There isn’t room in here for the two of us.” Y/N said bluntly, still refusing to turn and face to man. She sighed dropping her blanket over her bedroll hindering all movement. “I am not in the mood for talking Geralt. Leave me be so I may sleep.”

“Look at me Y/N” he growled. “Jaskier sent me in here because he said you were upset and I want to know why...so turn around.”

“No.” Y/N knew that if she saw him now that she could not stop the tears already threatening to fall. Now that she had given herself time to breathe the severity of the situation had sunk itself into her heart, squeezing it so tight she thought she might die. Geralt could have died today, and she could do nothing to prevent it. “Leave me be Geralt, I do not want to talk with you”

“Well, I do!” Geralt all but yelled. “You have been ignoring me for weeks Y/N, speaking to me only when you want to start a fight,”

“I don’t want to…”

“Then what the hell is going on?” Geralt roared.

Shaking Y/N got to her feet, slowly turning to face the angry Witcher still, however, refusing to meet his gaze; finding the floor much more interesting. “You could have died.” She whispered.

“What?”, Gulping Y/N repeated herself, “Speak up Y/N!”

“I said you could have died you fucking idiot!” Y/N screamed. “You could have plummeted to your death all because of her.” She could no longer hold back her tears, hot salty water now streaming down her darkened cheeks. “You could have died because you wanted to show off to Yennefer because you want to fuck her…AGAIN” She cried, not caring if anyone outside the tent could hear her. Finally, Y/N looked up meeting Geralt’s golden eyes, rage boiling inside her. “I told you this was too dangerous and you didn’t listen, I told you that the Gin was a stupid idea and you didn’t listen. It almost cost Jaskier his life and now you’ve risked yours and everyone else’s because of a stupid witch.”

“Y/N…”

“Don’t.” Y/N growled. “Don’t speak I’m not finished”

“Yes, you are!” Geralt screamed stepping forward, grabbing hold of Y/N and shaking her. “You are done speaking to me as if you were my mother.”

“I am not speaking to you like a mother” Y/N counteracted, “I am speaking to you as someone who loves you!” Geralt’s grip loosened and Y/N took this opportunity to step back breathing deeply as she took in what she had just admitted. For a moment all was silent neither person wanting to be the first to speak. However, after minutes had passed in silence Y/N had decided that the silence was more torturous than speaking. Taking a shaky breath she gazed over to Geralt who had been eyeing the ground unblinking since the words had spilt from Y/N’s mouth. Thinking Y/N began to question if what she said had been the truth, did she love Geralt in the way both of them had been thinking for the past five minutes or was it a spur of the moment decision. Was it to make the man feel bad, or was it something that had finally bought itself up to the surface. It would explain her jealousy, why she had been so upset when she had looked through that window all those weeks ago and seen Yennefer in the place she thought she ought to be. Why when she thought back to the image of their lips touching almost bought her to tears. Why she had cried herself to sleep that night and why she had refused to talk to Geralt since, unless absolutely necessary. If she did love him, that would explain why she was so utterly terrified when it looked like he would fall to his death, and why the tears coming from her eyes refused to stop.

Looking up at the Witcher once more she had made her final decision and without a second thought wrapped her arms tightly around his middle. Hugging him so tight that it seemed almost impossible to let go. It took a moment, but soon Geralt had his arms wrapped around her, bringing her closer and burying his face in her neck. “You could have died today...” She whimpered against his chest.

“I know” he replied.

“You could have fallen...”

“I know”

“You could have died...and left me all alone”

“I know”

Y/N giggled, moving away from Geralt and wiping away her tears sniffling as she did so. “Stop saying that...” She said looking up to meet his golden eyes. “You could have died, and I would still be here. Without you.” her voice quivered. “And you don’t care.”

“I do care.” He said, voice soft.

“Then why did you...”

“Because I had to try Y/N,” he said. “I couldn’t let an innocent man fall to his death” he moved closer wrapping his arms around her once again. “I didn’t do it to impress Yennefer. Or anyone for that matter, I did it because I had to.”

“But I saw you...” Y/N stammered. “Through the window, after the Gin...” She gulped staring up at the man holding her. “You two were...”

“Fucking?” he asked. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I love her.”

“But...”

“No buts Y/N. It was nothing, it meant nothing”

Y/N nodded looking back at Geralt's leather-covered chest. “I’m sorry,” she said. “It is none of my business what you do with other women, but I want you to know that what I said is also true.” She sighed. “I love you...and not just in the way a friend does, or a member of one's family. But with my heart...I love you with all my hear Geralt and...” She could not finish for Geralt had lifted her chin upward and connected his lips to hers in one swift motion. The kiss was slow; gentle. But hiding a sense of urgency both people felt. Y/N bought her arms up to wind them around Geralt’s neck and pull him closer deepening the kiss, meanwhile, his hands made there way down to her waist holding her in place. The kiss ended all too soon for Y/N’s liking and she was about to protest when Geralt spoke.

“I have felt...something for quite some time now.” He said. “I didn’t know how to put it into words...and I still don’t” Y/N nodded listening. “I have tried to distract myself. But now I don’t think I can.”

“What are you saying?” Y/N asked.

“For now...all I am asking is if I can kiss you again.” Y/N nodded slowly as Geralt captured her lips with his once more turning the night into one of love and passion. And although it took a while for Geralt to say aloud what Y/N had already admitted both agreed it was worth the wait.

Neither one of them could be any happier.

#geralt imagine #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt #the witcher imagine #the witcher #witcher imagine

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nutty1005 · 4 years

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Xiao Zhan: Prepared, the Next Crossroads will be Clearer

Translator’s Note: This article comes from Harper’s Bazaar 2020 Feb Issue.

To Xiao Zhan, his encounters in the past few years are “Dreams come true” – or perhaps he can consider as “Lucky”, but what can only match it is his all-out effort and hard work. He believes that opportunity needs to come with luck and effort, he prepares himself so that the next crossroads will always be clearer.

In the past 1 year, there are many things that Xiao Zhan could only describe as “surreal”.

“So nervous!” his doe-like eyes shining with light. “Miss Man created her own style in photography. There’s a familiarity looking at the layout when working with someone I know of since designer days, but the subject matter is actually me.” After saying this, he heaved a long sigh. Looking at a random point in front of him, he cannot help but smile – “It’s like a dream come true.”

“1 minute onstage equates to 10 years of effort offstage”

During the recording of the recent variety show “Our Song”, Xiao Zhan had the same surreal experience. When singing with mentor singers such as Na Ying and Wakin Chau, he was slightly trance-like, because he grew up listening to these singers, being on the same stage with these God-tiered singers, he was naturally anxious and fearful, and he was on high alert every moment of the way.

“Singing with Na Ying on the first three episodes, I was so nervous that I can’t even, and more nervous during the rehearsals than the actual recording – worried that I would be off tune, my ears were working hard to pick up the harmonization.” He would not allow himself to make any mistake, worried that the mentors felt that he did not prepare himself seriously – singing perfectly is one thing, intentionally putting in effort is another.

Although the performances in the show were mostly old songs, he needed to put aside the deeply rooted impressions and re-learn the songs as well as the harmonizing sections. “I must make sure that I will not go off tune, as well as ensure that there are no conflicts when we harmonize… It is really very difficult.” His current schedule was being programmed down to the minutes, there was no time for proper practice, hence he used every scrap of available time to do so. After every new composition, he would listen to it repeatedly until he could memorize it, “I listened to the songs repeatedly using earphones while in the car, even if I’m asleep I’m still listening, somewhat like brainwashing style of learning.”

Xiao Zhan quietly observed every detail of his mentors – they not only chose songs that suited their vocal range, they would also decide based on the partner’s situation and the harmonizing effect; they would continuously communicate with the onsite music director and stage director during rehearsals, and make adjustments on their techniques on the spot. The flexibility in the mentors’ performances amazed him – a successful performance can only be based on the accumulation of stage experiences, and not rely on fluke.

He can still remember his nervousness when he first joined the talent show – his legs were heavy as lead, he almost could not move, and his hands were shaking nonstop. “The stage required self-confidence, but no matter whether there were fireworks onstage, or the performance could set the stage afire, the endless practices offstage must continue. When one has full confidence on what to do onstage, only then there will be a possibility to create a better stage sensation.

The mentors gave him a lot of tips on how to practice his vocals, including how to relax the vocal cords. “They have very professional experience, and what they have imparted to me are shortcuts that they have discovered and summarized.” Xiao Zhan was frequently caught pouting before his performances. “That is not ‘trying to act cute’, pouting and bloating the mouth to the maximum, and then suddenly relaxing, is one of the ways to quickly relax your mouth muscles, it is very helpful to reading lines or singing.”

If there were an important recording session or a stage performance, he would skip all meals after that day’s breakfast, in accordance to the principle 饱吹饿唱 (TN: A full stomach is good for playing wind instruments, an empty stomach is good for singing), “My condition is actually better when I am hungry, and hunger gives me more clarity.” Promoting his strengths and avoiding his weaknesses is another of his principle, “My vocals are more suited to ballads or fresh soothing songs, if it is a ballad, I have 70% confidence onstage, whereas some songs requires some explosive strength, which might not be suitable for me.”

The charm of the stage comes from the “moment”, he likes the fleeting sensation, no matter whether it is his own condition or the audiences’ reaction, these could not be replicated or repeated. “I will not watch my own performances repeatedly, whether it is good or not I know it in my heart, what is past I will let it past.”

“Hard work may not guarantee success, but if you don’t work hard, you definitely will not succeed”

Between singer and actor, Xiao Zhan does not feel that they are mutually exclusive. “Why must it be divided so clearly instead of having both at the same time? I remember that the idols we used to love in our youth were multi-talented, such as Chen Kun and Zhou Xun were commonly recognized as outstanding actors, but they could also sing nice songs like Half Moon Crescent 半月湾 and The Sea 看海. Why now it must be idol is idol, actor is actor, singer is singer? I don’t quite understand this, everyone is just doing what they are passionate about, isn’t it great if it’s done well?”

However, to be able to do everything “well”, it is not just dependent on talent or opportunity. There was once a trending topic on Weibo, exclaiming that even with Xiao Zhan’s qualities, he still considered his looks as “average”, his vocals as “natural”, and he felt that he was lucky to have had the opportunities, and to complement this luck, he could only reply on down-to-earth hard work.

His recent drama shoot “The Oath of Love” had finally come to an end. This was his first “real” contemporary drama, and felt nervous because he had already been accustomed to the shooting style, the wigs, the costumes and the lines of period drama, and now he had to perform as a modern person realistically and naturally. “After shooting a lot of period dramas, you will naturally come with a ‘style’, that is you can exaggerate a bit, emphasize on some parts of the lines or emotions.” He suddenly focused his attention and recited in the period drama style, “Master, shalt t beest liketh this the present day?” It definitely felt out of place in the makeup room piled with clothes. (TN: He said “Master, shall it be like this today?”, but to emphasize on the contrast, I used Shakespearean English.)

“No one will speak like this in our daily lives, I am working hard to remove this ‘style’, but it turns out to be quite difficult.” This type of natural flow is also quite different from being his real self. “When I am singing onstage, I am Xiao Zhan himself, the person who has lived for 20 plus years, but when I am acting, I have to become another person, and I will hesitate on many details – should I be holding the chopsticks like this? Is it suitable to take a sip of water after saying this line?”

When shooting “The Wolf”, he would write long essays on his acting thoughts after the end of the day’s shooting everyday. Although he did not maintain this troublesome step till now, he still maintained the habit to summarize his day. “At that time, it really felt like you are writing year end summaries everyday, multiple sections, and you still needed outlines. I will record down what I learnt today, what I did and didn’t do today, and what I want to accomplish next time round… very detailed.” Initially, this was based on the performance teacher’s requirements, but Xiao Zhan started to feel that these tiresome work were very helpful. “It is possible that some of the points will be forgotten by the end of the class, but if you record them down, if you don’t remember the details later on, by looking at them, you can recall the details.”

After learning from the performance teacher, he was able to truly understand that the expressiveness from both lines and body movement are just as powerful. “There was once during class, the teacher told me to read the lines with my eyes closed, and use different emotions to convey rage, happiness, sadness and unspeakable feelings. His final goal was to help me forget the baggage from lines, and to be unrestricted by technicalities.” The teacher tossed him the dictionary 新华字典, and said, “You will win if you finish reading this dictionary.”

Xiao Zhan believed that opportunity needs to come with luck and effort. When shooting “The Untamed”, he once felt that his condition the previous day was not good enough, and requested the director to reshoot the scene, but after the 4th or 5th take, the director said that the 1st take was still the best. “Human emotions are very mysterious – you would think that the more you give the better it becomes, but instead you could not repeat the initial most natural performance. The first take is always full of unknown, my partners and I do not know how much emotions we intend to inject into the scene; instead we stimulate each other, invoke the most real emotions; the latter takes already have the information from the previous takes, instead there are more predefined boundaries.”

Usually, before an important scene, the whole atmosphere of the scene would become very serious. “Sometimes I would think that I don’t want to think about other additional things, and put in all of my 100% effort in the scene, but instead be unable to perform. I still don’t have much acting experience, but I feel that you need to be relaxed performing, enjoy the performance, if you are on a tight rope, you won’t be able to act well.”

The director also told him that he needs to forgive himself, that art itself is something that is filled with the beauty of regrets. “If I can’t do better I would definitely feel depressed, but I always accept the existence of regret. There are limits to my abilities, but I will do my best, the existence of regrets is not an excuse, I still have to put in all of my efforts.”

Xiao Zhan understood this principle since his childhood days when he was learning how to draw. Some people are just better than any average person at drawing, and you just cannot surpass them. “The most important homework that everyone must do is to accept themselves, don’t have to feel depressed or hopeless when you see another person’s talents. The path everyone takes is different, we do not need to compare with others and feel hopeless, we just need to find what is suitable for us, and you also need to believe that hard work will compensate what you lack in talent. Yes, hard work may not guarantee success, but if you don’t work hard, you definitely will not succeed.”

“Commoner’s wish”

If the start of acting was just going with the flow, he now views it as the true goal to work towards, and something that he loves from the bottom of his heart. “The life of Xiao Zhan may not be able to experience all the wild and crazy things, now as a public character, I cannot let loose and live presumptuously, vent my emotions as I like, but I can experience different lives in acting.”

It has only been just a month since the end of his previous drama shoot, but he already found himself restless and wanting to participate in the next piece of work. “It is this kind of desire, I just want to get into the next phase of life, I like the feeling of detachment from myself.”

However, he will always bid farewell to a role, and once again rejoin his life. In 2019, the name Xiao Zhan became one of the names that attracted the most attention. Although he rejects all kinds of characterization, and hoped that he can present his most natural and real self, he still received all kinds of projected imagery. The over-attention extended into his personal life and gave him some sense of insecurity, but he hoped that he could still have space to live as any common person – able to head out for a meal or watch a movie, keeping his common sense.

“Of course I will be more careful when it comes to conveying myself. I am actually very careful, now I represent not just Xiao Zhan as a person, but also my team, even if not for myself, there is no need to create any unnecessary trouble.” When he encounters any problems, he will usually digest it himself. “Frankly speaking, I also haven’t met much problems that I cannot resolve myself. But a lot of problems, what others can do is to give me some opinions, some direction, cheer you on, but they can’t really solve it for you. How to persist, how to overcome, it all depends on myself, because only I know what actually happened.”

He had not stopped flying this whole year, always hurrying, but he felt that, in principle, there were not much difference from his days as a designer. “Designers also had to always work overtime, now I could also relax on the weekends.” He had slight insomnia the night before the shoot, hence he dozed off during the make up, and only ate a few mouthfuls for breakfast and lunch – this is already his standard daily life. “This is just a phase, very difficult, but I have to tide over. And I don’t feel that this is something tough to do, I enjoy my work, and also enjoy the sense of security and fulfillment from a busy work schedule.”

He still has unlimited dreams, for example, having another hobby besides drawing, learning more about design, recently he is also thinking about learning a new instrument. “But sometimes what I want most is to go home or to the hotel and relax on the bed. What comes next, I’ll think about it when I get up.”

#xiao zhan #sean xiao #xiaozhan #肖战

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londonfog-chan · 4 years

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Passione x Reader: Sudoh Buck AU

This was too fucking good to let it rot in AO3 so now you all have to be subjected to my JoJo thirst. All characters aged up (otherwise how the fuck would they have this job??)

...

“So you’re not working my shift???”

“No... you’re actually my relief.”

Your best friend is clocking out just as you’re going to clock in. She looks dolefully up at you, nearly in tears from how the day has treated her. It’s her last shift for the week at the Passione Street location for Sudoh Buck, but you’re not sure why it was she had such a horrible time.

“He’s so mean!” She whispers as you lean down next to her.

“Who?!”

“The one on drive thru. He kept kicking me off bar because I made too many mistakes. I don’t know what I’m going to do for a whole three weeks with these people. I miss our store.”

The system is unavailable for you to punch in on the computer, so you’ll have to hunt down the punch communication log and you’re not exactly enthralled to be asking the dudes at the front. One of the guys, silver haired giant with neon lipstick, fucking glared you down when you went to the back. Had it not been for your coworker from the old store (Kimmy) walking out to say goodbye you’re sure he would have pummeled you.

“Yeah?” You ask, slightly bristling as your friend continues to look sad. “Well fuck me I guess. I’ll have to find out where that damn book is and go talk to one of them, and then you’ll be out and I’ll have to deal with this shit all by myself. At least you had the luxury of working with our crew...”

You can’t help the bitterness in your voice even though you know your friend is hurt. It’s been one fucking thing after another. You kept asking everyone where to go, and after being ignored and given a gang face, you’re not altogether sure you like Passione location after all... it’s in a location where you used to live as a child, not too far a commute from your current house where you live with your mother, and it’s the newest location established. But the newness is a fucking facade. You already have a bad impression by how they treated your friend, you can’t imagine they’re taking too kindly to being invaded by a new store. A friend working the S. Platinum location told you the other day he heard some blonde bastard of a shift complaining that the Ogre Street crew was stealing all the tips from the regular crew.

From a customer’s perspective, this is a coffee drinker’s paradise. Everything looks bright and new, when you walk into the cafe area, the front where they have the registers and the pastry case is on one big countertop that’s shared with the espresso bar and cold bar. In back of the bar is the drive thru window, and at the end of the espresso bar there’s some seating arrangements where customers can watch their drinks being made. It’s a typical Sudoh Buck color scheme. Lots of greys and white, the customers flock to it looking to get their fix, but under the facade there’s apparently a bastard crew working it. On top of that, the remodel for your location is going to take longer than anticipated. What else can you do but just rough it out with strangers you don’t even know?

“Well... I guess I’ll go home now.” Your friend murmurs sadly.

“Yeah. Bye.”

Your friend gets up and gathers her things, looking at you wistfully before mouthing “good luck”. In a few seconds she’s gone, and you’re standing there in an unfamiliar back office, apron in hand, wondering how on earth you’re going to survive the first day without anyone from your old store to help you.

“Oh hi there!”

An unusually cheerful voice jolts you out of your stupor as you come face to face with an unfamiliar associate. He looks fairly young, black messy hair held back with a bandana, and he looks you up and down with a sly look in his violet eyes.

“You’re one of the baristas from Ogre Street Mall yeah? Are you looking for the book?” He asks, cocking his head to the side as he ties up the strings of his apron. His black metal name tag has green chalk marker on it too small to make out, so you can’t tell his name right away.

“Yeah, I started a few months ago at that location. And yes, that would be helpful.” You tell him your name, and you can’t help the jump in your pulse when you hear him roll it off his tongue.

“That’s a pretty cute name.” He flirts, coming up on you with his fist up. “Nice to meet ya, I’m Narancia.”

You have to smile as you fist bump him (hey, it’s impolite to leave a homeboy hanging). Immediately you feel the strongest connection to him; Narancia is the first helpful and friendly face you’ve met so far in this location. And if he’s this cute and working a shift with you, you fully intend to stick by him wherever he goes.

“That’s not a bad name either my guy.” You smile. “Now about that book...”

“Come with me to front, we keep the book by the register in case anyone can’t get into the system.” He casually drapes an arm around your shoulder and you instinctually lean into him.

Hey, no one’s ever flirted with you before at work, and there’s no harm in it if you’re single. You know he’s probably smiling wider than fuck, but you could really care less at this point. Embarrassment ended when work jaded you. When you’re working 36 hours a week for minimum wage you tend to lose things like dignity.

“Here, make sure you check off this part with ‘New Store Labor’. Want me to get the ASM so he can tell you where to go?”

“That’d be great.” You insist. “I really appreciate you.”

“Stay right there!”

He runs off to the same isolated corner where you can hear the guys running drive thru taking orders. Before you write your name in the book, you notice that Narancia doesn’t clock in on the computer. The entire week is him filling out his punches in the book, one of many indicators that he was a barista who hated the new update for the punch log on the iPads. This indicates he’s the best kind of barista: the lazy fuck who can shortcut anything and come out on top. A few others prefer the book too, and you can’t help but admire the immaculate handwriting of this “Leone Abbacchio”, and you wonder if they’re as nice as their handwriting.

While you write in your punch, some dude with a funny looking orange beanie looks at you from his spot by the convection ovens, and you notice he’s muttering to himself on what looks like a gaming headset. When you make eye contact with him, he looks away as though he’s been caught committing a crime, saved by the loud beeping of the oven. He takes the tongs he’s holding and takes out some croissants, bagging them and putting stickers on the front before running them past you.

Narancia seems to be taking his sweet ass time with the assistant store manager. There’s another young looking guy, a blonde, at the point of sales system, the cafe is dead but bar is bumping, you can see other baristas pumping out drinks like their lives depend on it. Occasionally one will hand a drink off to a counter out of sight (probably to neon lipstick asshole who gang faced you earlier). The blonde leans against the counter, looking at you up and down the same way Narancia did. Vaguely you wonder: why did your friend say these guys were assholes? The blond and Narancia, along with the warming guy, seem perfectly content to check you out, and frankly you’re enjoying the attention. Fuck a duck, the guys here are hot!

“You’re the barista from Ogre Street?”

The question comes from the blonde at the POS system. You nod.

“Yessir. Just coming on board until the remodel happens.” You reply. “What’s your name?”

“Call me Fugo. You?”

He smiles when you tell him your name, but evidently you’re going to have to wait your turn to talk to him. That’s the beauty of working a coffee shop, customers just crawl out of the woodwork and line up at the POS system, and you smile when you hear Fugo’s very lovely “Welcome to Sudoh Buck, what may I get started for you today?”. It’s pretty awkward just chilling out by the pastry case. Typically you just jump into the first unmanned task when you walk into your store, but this is entirely new territory. Even the espresso machines are different here, you heard talk that soon all the new Sudoh Buck locations are getting what’s called Mastrena 4’s, whatever the shit that means. All you know is it’s supposed to make things a hell of a lot easier, and that you have to have it mastered before the remodel is completed.

“Sorry we kept you waiting for so long, you must be so confused.”

You’re pulled out of your stupor and suddenly face to face with the most gorgeous assistant store manager you’ve ever seen in your life. He’s got what your coworkers would call a “Karen” haircut, but he wears it well, and apparently he doesn’t mind it all too much that you’re staring at him like he’s a piece of meat in a butcher shop. He’s tall, all legs and arms with broad shoulders in a black turtleneck sweater. Narancia is almost overshadowed by the ASM’s beauty (he returns wearing the same headset as the guy on oven duty), but you sneak a glance at him too just for a minute.

“Y-yea... I mean, no it’s cool. I just, it’s like was anyone going to tell me what to do? Or was I supposed to have a sense of purpose myself?”

... Jesus Christ on a crutch... you note that the ASM must really appreciate your blunt humor, because his blue eyes are even smiling as he laughs. Narancia can’t help but laugh too, and with both men looking like snacks whenever they smile you’re about to drop from being so weak in the knees.

“I think you’ll be a great fit here.” The ASM smiles, “My name is Bruno Buccellati. You are...”

Your name rolling off his tongue makes you weak again. Oh lort... how does any barista get work done around here with all this man candy???

“Before we start, what position are you most comfortable with?” Bruno asks.

You’re about ten seconds from blurting out something nasty: spit roast sounds nice, Narancia and oven guy can watch.

“Ok...” you steel yourself, fully prepared with a speech you’d rehearsed in the car only an hour before. “I’m gonna keep it real with you chief, I don’t know how to do anything in a drive thru, and I don’t know how to run the new Mastrenas. If someone can show me I can do bar, otherwise I’m down to help on cold.”

Bruno seems to take this into consideration, looking over at the line that’s forming on front. Narancia looks too, immediately hopping onto bar where he starts steaming milk and pulling espresso shots from the machine without anyone having to ask him. His quick response triggers that look in Bruno’s eyes, and he nods you over towards the bar.

“I think I’ll have you with Narancia on cold bar for now. He’s going to be cafe and drive thru bar, so whatever he needs help with, just pull the stickers and he can show you where everything is. We’ll kill this line, and then I can give you a more permanent assignment. How’s that sound?”

“Gotcha!”

You instantly spring into action, much more confident now that you have direction. Narancia is pulling stickers out of a square machine and pasting them to cups, handing the plastic ones to you where you spring into action. Getting into a sequence, you start a drink, begin another one, work on the first, then start a third, going on like this until you’ve got a rhythm. Pumping out teas, fraps, refreshers, anything iced at all. Your hands fly over your work, and you almost don’t hear the praises that are being showered on you.

“Damn look at her go!” Whistles Narancia, “Hey Mista! Check out bar star over here!”

The guy from warming is over your shoulder as you hand out a drink, calling out Tom’s 20 ounce passion hibiscus tea. He smiles at you for a split second, too dazzling for words, then runs back to the oven when his headset lights up.

Vaguely you wonder how the hell your friend had such a rough time here at this location when there’s so much nice man candy to look at.

#vento aureo #jojo’s bizzare adventure vento aureo #jojo’s bizzare adventure #jjba x reader #jjba #bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati #guido mista x reader #guido mista #pannacotta fugo x reader #pannacotta fugo #narancia ghirga x reader #narancia ghirga #leone abbacchio x reader #leone abbacchio #trish una #trish una x reader

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