#too many damn sword fighters!!

[sieglinde-freud]

holy shit they turned peach into a fire emblem character

#too many damn sword fighters!! #nintendo direct #princess peach #princess peach: showtime #fire emblem #can i be honest im actually really excited for this game #this is for people who grew up playing super princess peach religiously

[celaenaeiln]

Am I interested in Dick Grayson's innovativeness and how that makes him a terrifying opponent?

Nah, not really, no, it's no- EXCEPT THAT I AM!

I love your analysis and honestly, I always surf through the dick Grayson tag once a day to see if u have posted. Pls drop the innovatiness wala analysis. I would absolutely eat it up

ADSAJHFGAJLHADJLHA YOU CAN'T SEDUCE ME LIKE THAT-MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT!

But I am here to deliver *bows*

Let's start this off with a bang

Dick is completely naked except for a towel and with one (well defined) leg he hooks the handle of the beer bucket and sends it smashing into Midnighter to stop him from using the knife on another person.

Pure. Fucking. Platinum.

That move was so delicious, there's an ease-fluidity-grace-to that split second movement. Also notice how accurate his aim is despite swinging it with the arc of his toes. The bucket slammed right into the medulla oblongata, or more specifically the pyramidal tracts which are crucial for controlling voluntary muscular movements. Nerves from the brain cross over at that area as they go down and then synapse onto other nerves that are responsible for controlling muscles when they leave the spinal cord. The precision at which he aimed the bucket is glorious. And with what? His feet.

The only reason Midnighter wasn't injured is because he is a meta which is the point. Otherwise Dick wouldn't have aimed there unless he was fighting an enemy.

Oh that brings me to my next point.

Dick has extraordinary control of his actions

He's so right though. Nightwing doesn't need to kill because fighting is too easy for him. I swear he has some kind of messed up idea (aside from his need to be absolutely good) that killing someone with a gun would take the joy out of fighting. He loves to live life on the hardest mode only.

The rapid fire throw of the gun, calculating the distance, time, velocity of return, and angle? I mean I studied physics and calculating even half of that on paper is a headache. The fact that he did it in one second? It's extraordinary. Things that are pure, dumb luck to literally everyone else is carefully calculated at a speed faster than light, making it look like luck. Damn.

Yeah.

Forget Slade. Midnighter is my new favorite nemesister.

DO YOU SEE WHAT HE FOUGHT WITH?! WHILE DEATHSTROKE AND BLACK ADAM WERE FIGHTING WITH META POWERS AND A CURSED SWORD, HE FUCKING WRAPPED CHAINS AROUND HIMSELF LIKE A BOSS AND WHIPPED THE SHIT OUT OF THAT MAN.

Please take a moment of silence to relish in this sight.

Dick's innovativeness is a formidable skill when fighting allies.

Dick and Ras are evenly matched in sword fighting.

Wait, wait. I don't need any doubts about Dick's strength in sword fighting so I'm going to include a couple panels here:

Dick fights Azrael to a standstill which is absolutely incredible because Azrael solos. He's gone through many upgrades and skills and is one of the best fighters ever. He's even defeated Bruce.

He also defeated Jason and Tim together in Batman and Robin Eternal.

This is just another point towards the fact that Dick actually won in his fight against Bruce before going into Spyral. They weren't holding back.

Oh yeah. Ra's vs Dick panel, Dick and Ra's aren't going anywhere because Dick is a swordsman equivalent to one of the best in the world. So how do you win a draw? By one upping the opponent. He swings his foot up in midair and completely defeats him. "But that isn't a defeat...Ra's just stopped fighting!" It was complete defeat because Ra's is intelligent and knows when he can't win. Also they have been fighting for a while until they reached the breaking point in the battle. This move is a show of how Dick has that just one inch more that will lead him to be a victor.

Ra's honors Dick so much he tried to give the sword he used to fight with Batman because he thinks Dick is worthy of it. Can anyone receive a higher honor than this from that man?

He'll also use the broken glass of a car window to take down his opponent. If that's not innovation, then what is?

But one last thing since a car door cannot be considered innovative these days.

sticks. He literally took two twigs off the ground to use as weapons against his highly skilled, one of the best assassins, great-grandfather who is fighting with daggers in his hands and all over his body.

But you know the best part?

He draws his opponent to a tie. A tie? Not a win? No it was win after, considering he used his relative's falling body as a launching pad in the middle of the air when they were falling off the bridge to grab onto the bridge with the help of his friend. So it was his win but it's insane how incredible Dick's skills are.

It's really innovative because who thinks of using twigs and winning? Let me also clarify another point. Dick could've used the knives he'd gotten from his talon suit and thoroughly won because when he was brain washed he almost killed Red Condor from how skilled he was but he conscientiously chose to use twigs. In a sword fight. This man.

His improvisation is an asset that many have come to know him for and classify him as dangerous because he can fight with anything, anywhere, and win.

Something I want to end with. Dick only fights people who are stronger than him. I know he's fought mob characters and stuff but his enemies? They are all metas, assassins, skilled fighters, Russian Black Ops, and more. Essentially, people who are the top of the class in their categories and him defeating them equally and fairly is the reason why he has the respect of his enemies. He's just that good.

#I'm laughing because I actually got this exact request from you and from when-no-wings-do-broomsticks one after another #I'll be writing a part two of this post #dick grayson #nightwing #midnighter #ra's al ghul #talon #william cobb #KG Beast #azrael #red condor #cl stargazer3700 asks

[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part fourteen

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen

-

Well. Good news is, Sephiroth hadn't forgotten how to fight. Bad news is, he's somehow a better fighter with amnesia!

Of course he is! The great Hero can't go through a debilitating setback without somehow gaining a power-up! He doesn't know how to navigate the building anymore and has probably forgotten about eighty percent of everything he's ever known - but it's only brought to the forefront what's always been the only real thing that matters! 

The gap between them seems only to be widening, and it's somehow made worse by the fact that Sephiroth isn't trying to stride away, aloof in his distant perfection - instead he's standing on the other end of the ravine, shouting encouragement back at them!

It's infuriating!

Not enough that Genesis can't take advantage of it, though. Sephiroth might have a brain injury that has given him a complete personality overhaul, and sure, abusing his confused good will is probably wrong.

But Genesis is not going to be tripped in a fight again.

"There, that's better," Sephiroth says with smug satisfaction, at the end of a lightning fast sequence of blows that had left Genesis with aching wrists and shaking hands. "Much more sturdy."

"Yes, yes, very good," Genesis grits through clenched teeth. "But, you know, in real fights you can't just plant your feet and never move. That just makes you a sitting duck."

"You learn to stand first and walk next," Sephiroth says, and without warning gives his knee a sharp whack with the flat of Masamune's blade. Genesis startles - but stays on his feet. "Good! Well done."

Something about hearing Sephiroth praise him for his effort is just - it feels like he's doing something wrong, just by being on the receiving end.

"As dusk falls and night begins its inexorable descent, I too grow weary," Genesis mutters, running a hand down his face. He needs a shower and a drink and a night in with a good book. "I'm done. Angeal, your turn."

"I don't think planting my feet will help with the Buster Sword," Angeal says with a laugh and comes forward. "It's half of my weight, there's no stopping it from dragging me around. But it was very interesting to watch!"

Sephiroth hums, considering him and the sword on his back. "How do you fight with a sword like that?" he asks, checking Masamune's edge with a bare finger.

"Well -"

"He doesn't," Genesis scoffs. "Not if he can help it."

"Well, there aren't that many situations where a blade like this is called for," Angeal says defensively. "Besides, it's a precious heirloom and I don't want it to be damaged."

"It's a fifty kilo hunk of steel!" Genesis scoffs. "It would take a bomb to even put a scratch on it!" Even Sephiroth looks dubious. "Admit it, the thing is just impossible to fight with."

Angeal scratches his cheek and then shrugs. "There are pretty much only two things you can do with it," he admits ruefully. "Swing it down or swing it across. It's not exactly versatile."

Sephiroth looks at him strangely. "... Why carry around a sword you never use?" he asks.

"It was made by my father," Angeal explains, taking the Buster Sword from his back and holding it up. "I don't know why it was so important to him, but it was. He went into debt to make it, and… he never made it out of that debt. After all that I can't just leave it behind, even if I can't use it."

"... I see," Sephiroth says, considering him thoughtfully. 

"What I don't understand is why he made it so damned big," Genesis scoffs, reaching over to flick a finger at the thing. It doesn't even ring. "It's like he was giving you an impossible task."

Angeal's smile turns a little strained. "Well. He did say it was the symbol of our family's honour."

"... Your family's honour is an unwieldy sword you can't fight with," Sephiroth clarifies.

Genesis scoffs with agreement. "A useless weight on his back he can't ever let go of."

"Wow."

Angeal looks at them, stricken, and then laughs. "That's why I use my fists!" he says with forced cheer and lowers the sword. "I don't mind the weight."

"Uh-huh," Sephiroth agrees and then considers the Buster Sword. "... Would you fight with it, if you knew how to do more than two things with it?"

Angeal hesitates. "I don't know. I guess it depends on what else is there."

Sephiroth nods in understanding and narrows his eyes. "Can I have a try?"

"Uh… alright," Angeal says slowly and hefts the massive sword up to hold it by the flat of its blade. "If you're sure. Here."

"Hold this for me," Sephiroth says, holding Masamune out to Genesis, before grabbing the Buster Sword. He looks surprised - and then thrilled - by the weight, hefting it up and down in his hand with a gleam of excitement in his eyes.

The sacrileges continue, Genesis thinks to himself, eyeing the sword Sephiroth had never let anyone touch, and goes to pick up Masamune's sheath.

Then, together with Angeal, he steps back to watch Sephiroth figure out the Buster Sword by doing slow swings and swipes and slashes with it. Within just a few minutes, he is already doing moves that actually look like moves, rather than just awkward helpless flailing, using his whole body to make the blade fly. It's not exactly graceful, there's no way to move gracefully with a weapon like the Buster Sword - but soon it has a recognizable flow and rhythm.

It looks like a deadly and brutal dance.

"Is it wrong of me to be excited about this?" Angeal murmurs, folding his arms. "To feel a little… grateful?"

"Probably," Genesis mutters resentfully. "Don't let that stop you. Because I sure won't."

Sephiroth rolls the Buster Sword over his shoulder, into an arching swing that covers whole full three-sixty sweep and then brings it around again for another attack, a move that looks deceptively easy and effortless - and utterly unlike anything Angeal, with more than half a dozen years with the sword, had ever managed. Ten minutes with a sword unlike any other, and Sephiroth already has developed what looks like a martial arts move.

Angeal looks like he can't even breathe, watching it, and Genesis runs a hand over his face.

The amnesia might've turned Sephiroth into some form of savant. That's… might actually be worse than if he'd only forgotten just about everything. The company would absolutely abuse this - and there would be idiots who, if they knew how it happened, would try to repeat the experiment.

"Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul," he says quietly.

Angeal glances at him and hums, folding his arms. He says nothing.

Genesis sighs as the future dawns upon them ever darker and the skill gap grows. Unfortunately, there might not be much they can do - only ride the wave that might lift all their ships to sea… or crash them on the shoreline. 

"I'm going to find every single SOLDIER Second that's ever asked for tutoring sessions from me, and I'm going to throw them at Sephiroth," he swears.

Angeal laughs quietly, his eyes back on Sephiroth. "They'll have to get in line."

-

Haha I gave myself YQY feels ._.

#Fanfiction #ffvii #ff7 #svsss #genesis rhapsodos #sephiroth #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #angeal hewley

[zarvasace]

Next is Depth! He is dark Sky. (He gets his own special dramatic portrait—the perspective mostly works? Idk I need to practice and find some good refs for this sort of thing.) So much rambling about him and his design under the cut.

Masterpost

The most striking thing about Depth is how normal he looks. Disregarding a few odd features, he looks like Just Some Guy, at least until he opens his mouth. He occasionally feigns being mute around others so he can keep the charade of being human up for longer, since his voice sounds truly awful. Depth is paler than Sky with much darker hair and orange-red eyes, but is otherwise identical. He doesn't mind that, and chooses to play it up a bit with very similar clothes, too. His tunic is rust-colored, opposite Sky’s spring green, and his chainmail is pointed and jagged on the ends instead of smooth. He wears a purple sash with more angular designs and lines, which matches the purple charm that keeps his cape on. 

Depth’s sailcloth is both a source of pride and a sore spot. He made it to contrast Sky’s, dark and tattered, but one of his very secret desires is to get one as beautiful as Sky’s, made by Sun, maybe dark, but functional and lovely and a reminder of her. 

See, Depth doesn't understand Sun—he doesn't actually know her, though he has memories from Sky. He wants her to be a damsel in distress that he can rescue, he dreams of her choosing him over his Light, but he doesn't realize that she won't. He loves his idea of her. While Depth follows [insert LU bad guy here]’s directives, he makes his own plans and he has his own agendas, and many of those plans aid him, in some way, to win Sun’s affection. 

However, as Depth has been growing into the leader role, he's starting to become attached to the other Darks. He's annoyed by them, but his plans have started to expand to benefit them in a way that doesn't necessarily benefit him, too. He might have a little altruism in him, after all. 

Despite that, unfortunately, Depth remains someone who would not save the world, but someone who intends to damn it over and over again. He doesn't flinch at the thought of Demise’s curse, in fact, he would welcome it. He likes the idea of having a purpose and a destiny. He wants to coddle the few people he cares about and would set everything on fire to do it. He says he loves Sun more than Sky ever could, but he would lock her away to keep her "safe."

Depth is the de facto leader of the group, since he's driven and has ambition. He has a very strict idea of what the other Darks should be doing and gets upset when they don't do it. He hates being touched and is ruthlessly practical. Once, when Nothing was being particularly annoying and tried to steal Depth’s sailcloth, Depth broke at least one of Nothing's fingers. He hasn't gotten close to injuring someone like that again, due to equal parts nobody bothering him like that again and him trying to be a little gentler. He doesn't hesitate to threaten injury to keep order, though. 

Depth knows about Ghirahim as a sword, and wants to wield it, but is under the impression that he needs to prove himself worthy first. (Whether or not [LU bad guy] actually intends to let him use it is a different story.) Depth is one of the more skilled sword fighters among the Darks, remembering formal training, but his sword isn't anything special. In a fight with Sky, they would be evenly matched if it weren't for Sky’s ability to use a Skyward Strike, and Depth's inability to block that much light. 

Depth’s special ability is his voice. In a mundane way, the others try to not make him use it, because it's almost painful to hear. In a magical way, Depth’s voice carries over long distances. When he sings, he can summon creatures like bats, crows, rats, and snakes, and they'll listen to him for a time. When he screams, his voice is a magical, short-range wave of destruction. Yes, he's an evil Disney Princess. Depth doesn't feel any strong affinity for the animals he attracts, but he doesn't let Dire or anyone else hurt them, and he doesn't send them to their deaths. He mostly uses them as spies and distractions. 

Depth is one of the more dangerous members of the Dark Chain—not because he’s physically imposing or particularly powerful, but because he can see beyond the next mission and is determined to ruin the Lights once and for all. He's one of those who would happily kill his Light—but only after Depth shows him how he has lost everything dear to him. 

#my art #lu z darks au #is this even lu anymore #i mean technically im using the lu interpretations so okay #linked universe

[rachetmath]

Rwby x video game

Ruby: Whoo… that was tough.

Yang: I can’t believe that Grimm trapped us in those video games like that.

Weiss: Indeed, my game was difficult.

Ruby: How so?

Weiss: I was a witch. I controlled time, had many weapons, and summoned creatures. But I had to do some embarrassing poses. 

Ruby: Oh you were Bayonetta. That was cool. Mid though. What about you Yang?

Yang: I was in this arcade game where I fought a bunch of people in the streets.

Ruby: Oh. I mean you fit the description of someone vandalizing property.

Yang: You know it. What about you Blake?

Blake:  I was a ninja. But instead of fighting just other ninjas, I was fighting monsters. And I also wield multiple weapons too.

Ren: You too. I was a samurai and I was fighting demons. And I can summon creatures to help me as well. And I had multiple weapons.

Blake: One of mine was a scythe.

Ruby; Really? Man. That sucks. 

Yang: What was your game, Ruby?

Ruby: I was a devil hunter. I also had a lot of weapons. But I mainly used three and a few metal arms.

Yang: Metal arms? Holy crap.

Ruby: My bosses were insane, especially the final boss. 

Ren: What about you Nora?

Nora: I fought my father.

Ren: What?

Nora: I fought my father who was trying to take my son. I did what I could but he was too strong. I managed though and survived. However, I pushed my son away from me and he left me alone. I was happy when he came back but things only got worse. I lost my friend. And though I managed to talk some sense into my father, my grandfather killed him right in front of me.

Ren: Nora it was a game.

Nora: It was real to me!

Ruby: Okay. Oscar and Emerald, how was your gaming experience?

Emerald: I was a badass treasure hunter. 

Oscar: I was a guy who wielded a Keyblade and had to fight the darkness. I made many friends but my main ones were a duck and a dog. Mainly the dog.

Ruby: Interesting. Well, Jaune what about you? What game did you go to?

Jaune: You can’t be serious. All of you have only been to one game?

Ruby: Yeah. I was in DMC.

Yang: I was in Street Fighters.

Blake: Ninja Gaiden.

Weiss: Bayonetta.

Jaune: Which one? In fact, red, blue or purple?

Weiss: Purple.

Ren: Nioh.

Nora: God of War Ragnorock 

Emerald: Tomb Raider.

Oscar: Kingdom Hearts.

Jaune: Oh my god. For real?

Ruby: Matter of fact, you’ve been gone for a while. What game were you in?

Jaune: I was in four.

Yang: Four? Like the fourth-

Jaune: No I was in four games?

Oscar: What were they like?

Jaune: Um hell.

Ruby: O.

Jaune: I was in hell. First I was in the Resident Evil series.

Yang: Number?

Jaune: 8.

Yang: Oo did you enjoy-

Jaune: I didn’t see the appeal. Especially, if the same tall woman, is trying to kill and eat you. And they were mild compared to a fungus monster, a crazy doll, a fetus, and an insane man with magnetic powers with the temper of a nine-year-old. I don’t know how I survived half that nonsense.

Yang: Damn.

Jaune: That was light work though. Then I went to find something called the Elden Ring.

Nora: Oh. Did you score any maidens?

Jaune: I will hurt you.

Ren: I mean it couldn’t been that bad. What was your role? 

Jaune: The victim.

Weiss: Didn’t you have weapons?

Jaune: Of course, in Resident Evil I had guns. Then for Elden Ring, I had swords and magic. Too bad I was against insane bosses who were completely out of my league. And one of them was a man who fought me with his bare hands! 

Nora: Oh.

Jaune: Had my butt bent over.

Oscar: Pause.

Jaune: Then Melina. Oh god. Oh god, A dragon flame thrower.

Blake: Jaune?

Jaune: After I got done with that madness, I went further deep into hell. Where my only option was to run.

Ruby: From what?

Jaune: Killer toy monkeys. An evil little girl. Clowns. Human-legged ducks. Golden Statues. Bagged Nurses. A Stuffed Mama Bear doll. I was lucky there weren’t more. 

Ruby: Oh god. 

Jaune: All while collecting these purple gems and running from the devil while assisting a witch. Who I have to admit is very hot. 

Emerald: Who were the worst?

Jaune: The worst ones were the Joy-joy Gang.

Emerald: Who were they?

Jaune: Animatronic robots.

Oscar: How were they so bad?

Jaune: Dark Deception. They’ll let you think you had a chance. First, they can become a giant ass robot. One of them can run faster than me. And when you think you've beaten all three of them, nine more will take their place- They have an army. Unlike the others, those guys had a better chance of catching me. They were just having fun. And when they caught me… … *remembers the beatdown* I swear if it wasn’t for their boss still needing me alive I wouldn’t have survived. 

Oscar: What was the last game?

Jaune: … … 

Oscar: Jaune? Jaune what was the last game?

Jaune: *remembers the people he lost. The people he’s murdered. The monsters he’s faced. The choice that could change everything.*

Jaune: I have no regrets.

Oscar: What?

Jaune: Nothing Oscar.

Ruby: Um… Are you going to be okay?

Jaune: Yep. As long as we killed the thing?

RWBY and NERO: … …

Jaune: Don’t tell me. 

*Roars*

Jaune: Let’s see.  Nine of us are here. Giant boss. Yep, we’re in an RPG. 

Ruby: Let’s go team.

Jaune: Wait what are our roles though?

*bob*

Ruby: Sniper. Cool.

Yang: Brawler. Nice.

Blake: Ninja. Hm.

Weiss: Mage. Indeed.

Emerald: Thief. Awesome.

Oscar: Support. Ah.

Nora: Berserker. Yes.

Ren: Archer. I’m fine with this.

Jaune: *terrified* 

Nora: What’s your role Jaune?

Jaune: HEY! FIGHT ME!! FIGHT! ME!

Ruby: Tank.

#rwby #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #nora valkyrie #lie ren #jaune arc #oscar pines #emerald sustrai

[sanjisblackasswife]

Hello! I don't know if your request is open or not, sorry if I send this request when your request is close. May I request separate headcanons for monster trio x fem reader? Reader wears clothes that can hide her ass because she's uncomfortable when someone stares at her ass (and she dislikes her ass because it's too big). Sfw or nsfw is up to you. Is my request alright and fine for you? Do tell me if you feel like it's too much, thank you!

A/N: This stupid ass draft didn’t save and I already wrote sm so I apologize for the late response I was so mad SKSHSHSKSK anyways I’ll always put on my head when my request are closed so you’re good babes your request was perfect thank u!. But I did do a similar HC of this but it was pretty OOC and spicy so I’ll make this one more tame and sfw ;) tysm for requesting!

Monster Trio’s Girlfriend Insecure About Her Big Butt (FLUFF)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

Ft. Zoro, Luffy, & Sanji

No warnings! Just fluff and stupidity.

————————————————————————————————————————

Zoro

As if this MF gives af

Look at him. And imma say it again:

Booty Hunter Zoro is canon. I will not have y’all disagree w me on this idc what y’all say

Anyways he doesn’t really care what you wear so he never had a reason to question why you mostly wore baggy clothes. He assumed since you’re the martial arts fighter of the crew it gives you more leeway?

Today you and him went to go fishing in a small town and it was a bit hot so you wore a long dress with a jacket over your waist. Just for extra precaution.

“Got damn…” you heard a few guys whistle from behind you which made you hold onto Zoro’s arm as he scratched his ear yawning not even paying attention to any of the men cat calling you and making derogatory comments about your shape.

“Fuck that’s a sweet piece of ass he got—hey sweetheart how bout you dip that asshole and come have fun with us?”

Zoro usually doesn’t engage with people that holler out to you both. You and him both know Zoro will protect you so he tells you not to worry about the stupid comments. He just doesn’t give a fuck until they decide to get bold enough to get close

And that was the first mistake

“Hey!” The man’s hand didn’t even get to touch your shoulder before Zoro pulled out his sword and cut the man.

The rest of his crew behind him looked terrified and many of them whispered “Oh that’s the pirate hunter Zoro! How didn’t he know he was with that chick?!”

Zoro grabbed the man’s collar with full force and looked him then his crew in the eye

“Its already annoying as hell hearing you asses yell out to my woman without attacking all of you, but Just know next time I see any of your shitty dirty hands on her I’ll cut them off of you. It would suck to not have your only girlfriend to use when you’re alone at night wouldnt it?”

Just in case nobody understands the last prt Zoro is implying the man uses his hand to jack off

Zoro pushed the man back down and continued walking as he stole a bottle of sake from their group in passing.

“Common unless you want me to kick all their asses for you.”

First off it turned you on a bit hearing him call you “my woman” it was so out of character for him

You scurried to him and he held his hand out sipping his their drink and you grabbed it

“I hate I always cause this.”

Zoro didn’t know what the hell you were talking about but when he asked and you explained your issues with your butt and how you don’t like it he rolls his eyes.

Lowkey offended you but that’s how Zoro is.

“You shouldn’t be insecure about that. It’s stupid. Your body is ..very attractive and those idiots probably never seen a woman’s body besides on a magazine in years.”

“Any jackass that want to make you feel bad about having a sexy ass like yours can talk to me about it because they’re not the one that gets to grab it now are they?”

He was so shameless in his words.

“Zoro…”

You smile, your boyfriend can be a numbskull but his heart is always in the right place. So you take off your jacket and without a slip of the beat you get Zoro smack your butt.

“See? You really do have a great ass.”

“Stop it!”

He laughs and kisses your forehead because he still loves his overthinking girlfriend sm.

Sanji

This man is a true chad. A gentleman. A MAN ABOVE MEN—-

So he clearly notices when his Princess feels even a little bit down

He had a feeling by the way you looked at your body in the mirror there was something you didn’t like about yourself

He noticed how you never wore a bikini, or shorts, or even a flowy dress on hot days.

Sanji has asked you what’s the issue, but you brushed it off and told him not to worry about it

But Sanji being Sanji he couldn’t let that slide no no

There was a beach party celebration happening by the dock and a bunch of people in and out of town were there. You really loved swimming actually and Sanji wanted to go and play in the water with you but you were stuck in your room

“Y/N-SSAAAAAAANNNNN COMMON!”

Robin and Nami got you a two piece to wear, they said they didn’t want to see you outside until you wore it and that in turn made you nearly regret confining to them about your insecurity but you knew it was just the typical tough love they gave you.

You let Sanji in and he was already in his swim trunks ready to go but you were still wearing a sweats and hoodie

“Baby why aren’t you ready? You sick? Need me to make you some soup?”

He does NOT let go of the subject if you try to brush him off this time he has been seeing you act like this for too long

So you finally explain to him

After you let him know your dilemma with your big butt he’s ready to kick Zoro

He didn’t even have anything to do with it he just wanna kick his ass

“WHO SAID DISGUSTING THINGS TO YOU AND YOUR BODY? HM? I WILL KILL THEM—“

He began screaming and flames came out of no where so you had to smack him

“No! I Just…for a Long time guys always made fun of my butt and if they didn’t make fun of it they made sexual comments and I hated it and I—- there is just so many people out there—“

Sanji understands your issue but rest assured he reminds you why you shouldn’t. He tells you how he will hurt anybody that tries it and even bring a towel and a big shirt to cover you if you need it. You show him the blue bikini you were ganna wear and Sanji just forgets his sweet speech and spazzes the hell out

“OH PLEASE MY DEAREST BLESS MY EYES TO SEE YOUR PERFECT BREAST AND PERFECT BUTT! I WILL WORSHIP YOU PLEASE—-“

He was holding onto your legs crying.

Anyways you kick him out your room and put it on.

You have to admit you looked delicious you really did.

Tits were great, legs were amazing, and dat ass was so fluffy like a pancake you could bite it (yeah I said it)

You come out holding your body and Sanji pauses and just bleeds all over the damn place

Took you an hour to get off the beach because he kept passing out

Sanji really felt happy that you were comfortable enough to express your feelings to him so all day he was by your side

Yes his hands and eyes were on your butt

And as promised he brought the shirt and towel which you didn’t need because he made you feel so comfortable:(🤍

One guy did whistle at you, but Sanji kicked the shit out of him

He also had your thighs wrapped around his shoulder in the water and carried you around

All in all Sanji made you forget why you were insecure about your beautiful booty in the first place

Luffy

Luffy doesn’t quite understand but bless his heart he’s TRYING

You’ve told him about your insecurities about your butt and he really doesn’t fucking get why you don’t like it

He has actually turned you around and pulled up a dress you were wearing and stared at your butt saying “So what if it’s big it’s nice.”

Since then he subconsciously touches your butt

Very shamelessly

He doesn’t make you to wear any less baggy clothing but he will encourage you if you ask him, like if you should wear tights

“Yeah wear those Your but jiggles a lot when you wear em!”

Just like Zoro and Sanji he’ll Gum Gum tf outta somebody if they make disgusting comments about your body

Luffy wanted you to buy him some meat so you both went to a food vendor and while waiting in line as Luffy was sitting on the benches to the side watching you happily, a man pushed up against you cupping your butt in the process

“Hey! I felt that why’d you do that!?”

“Not my fault darling you got a lot going on back there…I just simply fell.”

You wanted to beat his ass but you were so close to getting Luffy’s food. It wasn’t too long until then you felt the creeps body really close behind you.

You prayed he’d just move but there was a crowd of people around you and you knew you’d have to clear the damn room if he touched you again

His hand was creeping up your thigh and you felt it even under your thick pants but that was until

“Luffy!”

Your sweet boyfriend GGP that mf down the street.

Luffy was watching you closely after hearing you yell at the man. He didn’t quite read your words correctly but he knew you were uncomfortable and he found out why

He grumbled grabbing your waist to be stretched over to him

“Weirdo. You okay?”

“Mmhm.” You really thank God for his stretchy body

“Good! Let’s go to a different food place for meat!”

The rest of the walk you were in front of him instead of beside him

“It’s okay, Y/N I’ll protect you.” He spoke in your ear “Not ganna let any assholes touch you.”

He has without effort helped you get over your dislike of your round tookus

#one piece headcanons #TimikosMonsterTrio #black reader #one piece #sanji #sanjionepiece #sanji imagine #one piece x female reader #sanji x black reader #ronoroa zoro #zoro hcs #zoro headcanons #zoro x reader #zoro scenario #zoro imagine #one piece zoro #mugiwara no luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x black reader #luffy fluff #luffy headcanons #luffy scenarios #luffy imagine #one piece scenario #sanji fluff #zoro fluff

[sunandflame]

Flame and Water, Chapter 6

Summary: After the talk with Kyojuro you are again on your own and meeting someone you would have not expect.

Ship & Trope: Kyojuro x Fem!Reader (Water Pillars Tsuguko) / Slowburn

pinterest board

Warnings: typical KnY violence, blood, self hatred, grief

Word Count: 2629 Words

Masterlist of Flame and Water

Your ways had parted and secretly you were happy and grateful for the solitude that was offered to you. You were not used to such energetic and noisy company and you were also not used to talking that much either. The missions you had with your master Tomioka were always filled with silence, but not the uncomfortable kind. You both liked and shared the opinion that it didn't need many words to keep each other company. Nonetheless, those few hours with the Flame Pillar had left their mark on you. The panic you were feeling towards him turned into confusion - confusion about how persistent he was towards you. A normal person would have given up after 2 days, but he came every day, for weeks. You yourself would not have done that and accordingly, his behavior had made an impression on you. If he wasn't just-

Your thoughts were interrupted by your Kasugai crow, Shimizu. "Caww! You're thinking about him right now, aren't you?" She sat on your shoulder as you walked on. Of course she accompanied you everywhere.

You chuckled. Shimizu knew you very well. "Who do you think I'm thinking of right now?"

"About Rengoku."

You paused for a moment. "Yes." You didn’t deny her the true answer. Why should you? Shimizu knew nearly everything about you.

"Kaname speaks highly only of his master."

Ah, Kaname, his crow. So that was it.

"He seems like a good person and mentor, maybe you shouldn't distance yourself from him like that. You could learn something from him. Might get stronger even if he uses Flame Breathing."

You fell into silence again. Shimizu was not wrong. Kyojuro Rengoku was undoubtedly a very strong fighter but… you both were not compatible. Neither your fighting style nor your personalities matched each other. You were fundamentally different. Flame Breathing featured extremely powerful singular strikes which 'burn' their opponent. Even at the thought of fire and burning, you shuddered. Water breathing was different. It depended on the flow, flexibility and adaptability of the user. Your body must be fluid in each motion as you imitate water and that was what fit you and your body. "Fire and water would never come together." You sounded final and didn't want to comment any more to this topic.

Your crow noticed this and flew off again to look out and show you the way. Several hours of walking passed before you felt a presence. It was so faintl that you were forced to sharpen your senses, your hand on your nichirin sword. You stopped and listened until you felt the presence again, this time you were sure it was that of a demon. No, wait. Not only one but several, and they were all coming towards you.

Concentration.

Water breathing... Third Form: Flowing Dance.

With a purpose in your mind, you angled your blade and swung in a winding motion, dancing along with your body in a flowing pattern, slicing every single demon in your path until you decapitated the demon who was the furthest from you. You looked back to see all the demons you sliced on your way, crumbling away until nothing was left. With a sharp swing, you removed the blood in one motion from your blade to sheathe it. That was easy, you thought. Were these demons just very weak or did you get stronger?

You couldn't tell as your thoughts were interrupted and you quickly turned around only to realize that those demons were just a distraction for a bigger and stronger one. Damn! You reacted too late, the demon was already too close to dodge his attack, when suddenly another blade was unsheathed, and another slayer stood in front of you to face the demon.

Eyes widening, you realized it could only be Tomioka with his mismatched haori. The last person you would have expected, but you were still grateful - you were aware that your brief inattention could have cost you your life. The Hashira made short work of him as you watched in silence and admiration. He was truly someone worthy of the title of the Water Pillar because nobody moved so fluidly like water as he did. You were not even close to his skill, you realized sadly.

"You must not become oblivious to your surroundings just because you think you killed all. There is always a high probability that more will appear." A lecturing tone and it felt like before. As if you were still his student. But you weren't and your thoughts grew bitter.

Your gaze followed him and there was so much you wanted to say to him. So many things hurt you about his previous behavior that you just wanted to throw at his head, but you said nothing. Like you always did. Tomioka's gaze lingered on you longer than usual, as if he saw the rush of emotion behind your eyes and was just waiting for you to say something, but you didn’t, and a barely audible sigh escaped his lips as he looked into the distance. Was he hoping for you to...? Asking him was no option and knowing how your former master was like, you knew you will never get an answer since he was too of the taciturn sort.

His gaze was still directed into the distance when he spoke again. "Get your blade ready. There are more demons here that are terrorizing the nearby village. Too strong for the Mizunotos they sent here first." With these words he walked away, and you followed him in silence.

You didn't talk and it felt like back then, only it wasn't like it used to be. Not Pillar and Tsuguko anymore, but no equals either. Not even remotely if you considered what a stupid mistake you had made earlier.

Several minutes passed in silence until he suddenly stopped. You almost collided with his back. He was paying attention to the surroundings, and you did the same. As if by reflex, you both drew your blue swords and performed the same water breathing form simultaneously. Like a well-rehearsed team, you beheaded the demons that came your way. Back-to-back, covering each other's blind spot.

The fight was difficult and made you both sweat, but you two were able to fight them demons until all were decapitated. Your breathing styles complementing each other perfectly. Breathing heavily, you looked up at the sky only to realize that it was already morning. You let out a relieved sigh. You were exhausted and your whole body hurt. Especially your belly. You looked down and saw your uniform slowly getting soaked with blood.

"You should let Kocho have a look on that. Or at least one of the Kakushis."

You hadn't even noticed that the demon had hit you on the stomach and that you lost more blood than you thought. Shit. The adrenaline from the fight sank and you felt the stabbing pain in your belly. Shit, shit, shit, shit... You fell onto one knee and tried to hold your balance with one hand while putting pressure with the other. Tomioka was at your side faster than you could blink and tried to help you up.

"No!" You immediately calmed your breath. "J-Just give me time to focus my breathing and then I will be fine..."

He looked at you with an unreadable look "Your wound is worse than you think. At least let a Kakushi treat you before you bleed to death in front of me."

You heard his words, understood them. He was right, but... getting treatment meant that you need to undress. Undressing meant... "No, I'll be fine."

He had troubles to understand your stubbornness. "If you are not aware what state your body is in, then you shouldn't be fighting at all."

And there it was again. Those scathing words and normally you would have kept silent about them but this time you didn't and it was not because of the immense pain. "I... I know I can't fight anymore. I just don't want to be treated by a Kakushi. I'm taking care of myself."

His azure eyes widened a miniscule amount, and it seemed like he finally understood why you were stubborn in your stance. He just needed to look back to when you both trained. Never had you ever shown your skin. Not even when it was unbearably warm. "Stop the bleeding with your focused breathing before you bleed to death here. I'll see what I can find for you."

You were grateful that he didn't push this topic any further and did what he commanded after giving him a nod. The Kakushis had now arrived and were rushing towards you but not without a bow. Ah. They probably did it because they thought you were still his Tsuguko. "I'm not his Ts-"

"Give me one of your first-aid kits. There are other Slayers who are more seriously wounded. I'll take care of my Tsuguko."

Your eyes widened at his words as you did not expect something coming like this from him. Did he say my Tsuguko? Did that mean he took you back as his Tsuguko? Hope took root in you as you watched him silently talking to the Kakushi and taking the first-aid bag.

"Can you walk?"

"Huh?" You were so deep in thought and in your focused breathing that you hadn't even noticed that he was standing in front of you again. You took a careful step, tested your balance and then nodded to him. There was no need to be carried by him, not that you had problems with touching people, but you tried to avoid it as much as possible if it wasn't about training. You were too uncomfortable with what was hidden under your uniform.

You walked in slow steps behind him, deeper into the forest until you couldn't hear the Kakushis anymore. He made sure that you both were alone.

"Here, please take care of your wounds before it gets worse."

He gave you the first-aid bag. You glanced up to him while you took it from him. "Why are you doing this? I'm not your Tsuguko anymore."

He was silent for a while and looked into the distance. "I want to apologize for my behavior. We all have our baggage to carry and apparently, you have your secrets and fears just like everyone else. I should have respected that and asked Rengoku-san not to disturb our training."

Your mouth stood open while you stared at him. You could not believe what you just heard. That was the first time he spoke so much and was he really apologizing to you?

He saw your incredulous look. "What?"

"N-Nothing... I would never have thought I’d hear an apology from you but thank you."

"I... am not too proud to apologize to someone..." He looked a bit hurt while saying that and you immediately regretted your own words. "You should look after your wound, but I would still let Kocho have a look at it if I were you, since we don't know if the demon used any poisons."

You nodded and waited for him to go, but he simply took a few steps and turned away. Why was he not leaving? "Tomioka-sama...?"

"I won't look, but I will stay close in case you need help."

That didn't calm you down at all. You wanted to be alone, but the tone in his words didn't allow any protest and you had to take care of that wound as soon as possible. You hesitantly put your haori away, undid the buttons of your uniform and noticed just how much blood you had actually lost. Your uniform and the binding over your chest were all sticky and covered with half-dried blood. You decided against taking off your uniform fully - you wanted at least your arms covered, and in an emergency, you still would be able to hide your front. You hoped it was not too bad and you were able to handle it on your own. It was not like you never stitched up yourself and a wound on the stomach was easier than on the arm. These hopes were immediately dashed when you looked down.

Shit.

The wound was gaping, and you were actually able to see a yellow layer of fat underneath the open skin. How did you not notice this in the fight? How were your organs not spilling out? It seems that your constant tension made sure everything stayed in place. Thankful for that and the first aid-kit you got everything what you needed. Needle, thread, disinfectant, gauze bandages and whatever else was inside and you took what you need. At least you tried. Your fingers were shaking too much from the blood loss and everything slipped from your hands. Another try, another desperate attempt, but you were not able to pull the thread through the needle eyelet. Shit, why was there not a stapler here? On your third try you saw dots in front of your eyes, trying to blink them away. Shit, shit, shit... You broke out in sweat. Not only because of your pain, but more of your inability and the consequences of that. A feeling of helplessness spread through you and your hands were shaking more than ever. Barely able to keep anything in your hand when suddenly calloused hands clasped yours.

You looked up, startled. Tears you didn't even notice before blurred your sight. He took everything what you had in your hand and made you lie down on the grass. Tomioka didn't judge. Neither with his gaze nor his words. He stitched you up quietly with the knowledge he had been taught by the Insect Pillar while you lay crying on your back trying to regulate your breathing, unaware that Giyuu Tomioka was seeing your disfigured body even though his gaze was only trained on your abdominal wound.

"Am I hurting you?"

You shook your head; the tears didn't stop. "N-No..."

"Then why are you crying?"

"Aren’t I hideous...?"

He stopped his movements to look at you. He looked at you closely after all this time you'd spent together training. Noticing every detail of your face. You suddenly seemed so young with this question, like a lost little girl who looked for some kind of validation even if only 1 year separated the two of you. "No, you are not."

"But all those scars-"

He sewed up the wound further while talking. "Scars are what define us as Slayers. You shouldn't be ashamed of them since they made you the person who you are."

"But what if I hate myself?"

Giyuu knew exactly what you were talking about. He hated nothing more than himself for surviving, for standing here all weak and being called a Hashira while Sabito and Tsutako were no longer in this world.

"Hating yourself only gets you so far, be proud that you survived." Words that he said didn't come from him, but rather from a person who hadn't left his mind recently. He should take her words to his heart, but everything took its time. Maybe, just maybe they could help you with your grief and trauma.

His words didn't make you stop crying, on the contrary, they brought back memories from your past. You thought about your father who always called you koi fish lovingly and how the fire consumed them all, burned them into the ashes. The tears didn't stop even when Tomioka had finished stitching your wound and bandaged it with a clean gauze bandage, or when he carried you to the Butterfly Mansion himself. The flood of your tears only stopped when you finally closed your eyes for good and dreamed of a river and a flame-haired man.

🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥🌊 🔥

I hope you liked this chapter. I can't tell you why they are getting longer and longer, but I am not mad at it as long as you readers are happy with it ❤️ I wanna thank @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi for editing and making this chapter something special for me, especially since Giyuu has a special place in my heart aswell in hers.

I know some were angry and confused about Giyuu's behaviour in the past chapters, but this is him in my eyes. A man who is not really good with words. Who is easily misunderstood, but knows what to do and to say in the right place and time (I love this man).

And again please tell me in the replies or as asks what you think of the chapter. Feedback is always wanted, doesn't matter if good or bad. ❤️

Taglist:

@krillfromsky @kingmultiverse404 @deepressed @nelissecrectplace @yomoya-girl @theycallmemrsbarnes @roninishere @beelzmunchkin @kyojurismo @stuckinthewrongworld @lynnw @love-me-satoru @felix99999l @noarawriteszr @strawberrymm @rye-flower @demonslayeranimex @kittensssss-blog @hanatsuki-hime

#sunnys works #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #kny #kny fanfic #demon slayer drabble #kimetsu no yaiba drabble #kny drabble #kyojuro rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x oc #kyojuro x you #kyojuro x y/n #kyojuro x reader #rengoku x oc #rengoku x you #rengoku x y/n #rengoku x reader #flame and water #sunnys work #tomioka giyuu #giyuu tomioka #giyu tomioka

[angelicguy]

was talking about it the other day but its sad how we are never going to get really big budget games w/ funky artstyles again. like if you look at the majority of big budget releases lately, they are all kind of going for the same thing as far as actual modeling goes- hi fi, super detailed complex models that try to portray as much detail as possible. which is fine for certain games, but it makes me miss the big swings devs used to take.

take street fighter 4 for instance- despite being over 10 years old at this point, it still looks REALLY good. great art direction, has a weird painterly look so everything has a cool watercolor style to it, models are expressive, etc. and this was a BIG release, its not some indie game (where most big stylistic swings tend to be made nowadays).

compared to street fighter 6, which is going for photorealism (with strong choices made as far as animation and color goes) it looks dated in the context of graphics generally, but looks WAY better than its contemporaries from the same time period. my fear is that street fighter 6 wont look that great in 10 years time.

side note, its also why street fighter 5 was really only loved by hardcore fans. it does nothing particularly well! its a halfway point between realistic and artistic to the point where it feels like a side-grade rather than an improvement or even its own original idea!

whatever leaps were made in lighting and texture quality are essentially irrelevant here. fucking gross!

the thing is, i dont think this is a deliberate choice that devs are making right now. from what i can tell, recent rendering tech has made it way easier to achieve a handful of lately- hi fi LIGHTING, increased TEXTURE DETAIL and HI POLY COUNTS come to mind. these are cool, but if youre a dev who wants to make a triple A product, you kind of have to use whatever tech is on the table to make a product look cutting edge. none of those encourage taking wild stabs at cool art directions. devs used to use those cool art directions because it was the ONLY OPTION THEY HAD.

classic case being windwaker right. the gamecube was a huge graphical leap from the n64, where even getting a model to look like something was a challenge. compared to ocarina of time, windwaker looks absolutely fucking incredible. it got a lot of pushback at the time for being too kiddy, but really the strength of its style is a result of doing as much as they possibly could with the platform they were working on. no high poly counts, the shading tech was relatively simple, and the textures (while a huge improvement over the n64!) are still basic compared to what we have today. windwaker still looks impeccable to this day, and even the HD remaster they made which, ahaha, improved WHAT

LIGHTING and TEXTURE DETAIL. but without a real consideration for the original artstyle (or why it even existed... which was the gamecubes limitations) it just looks worse.

in response to this pushback (i think, idk i didnt work at nintendo at the time) they gave twilight princess a way more "realistic" look. but given the rendering restrictions of the time, it still has a fairly robust artstyle

proportions are more realistic obviously, but in order to achieve that realism without the kind of lighting tech we have now the "lighting" is BUILT Into the textures. look at links sword, how it kind of darkens near the hilt, or how the shadow on the keese's wings is just kind of painted in specific areas. i would argue that twilight princess looks a LOT like street fighter 4 in that area-

damn! they almost look like theyre from the same game! but twilight princess was celebrated for being "realistic" while sf4 was noted for having a funky watercolor style (thats built into the focus attacks even!). its so so smart, because the devs knew they couldnt go for photorealism (like so many games of the era tried at and completely failed at!) so they went for a mix of cool stylistic decisions that allowed a game to look GOOD in a subjective, artistic way.

Not that games don't try and apply artistic principles now, but its a lot less unique. look at mario odyssey

its just a beach. and it looks great, its well rendered, but its just a beach. colors are clearly intentional and very pretty, but it's nothin that special right now, probably will look even less special in 10 years even compared to levels in the same game.

what im curious about is when are we gonna get back to that kind of artstyle meets rendering tech! if ever! current tech makes it so devs are kind of forced to go down the same boring path. look at mortal kombat 1:

im sure there are some leaps in texture and lighting, but they keep taking shortcuts. all the faces are modeled after REAL peoples faces and they mocap for expressions/conversation, which gives a really boring look to it. the fact that mk11 and mk1 look so similar so many years apart (4 i guess isnt that much but there have been leaps!) is disappointing to me.

then you have tekken 8, which is like the best looking game ive ever seen. for a while i found it hard to put my finger on why, but my brother said something really smart i feel- they made all of these models by hand. theyre essentially digital statues. they didnt pull actual face models, they just worked on their features until it looked correct. on top of the lighting and texture work, it creates a look not unlike the renders tekken has been using for years. which is convenient for them, because they can finally match the kind of real-time fidelity they've been chasing for like 30 years

hell it looks BETTER than that. so what im trying to say is im hopeful that art direction will catch up with the kind of rendering tricks/strengths we have.

i think tekken 8 feels like how soul calibur 2 probably felt at launch. does a lot of the same things given the time period

i still think hi fi rendering doesnt make for a good looking game, but rather where the focus lies for the player. for tekken it makes sense that they would focus their horsepower on detailed models and stages- youre gonna be lookin at that forever. look at elden ring

texture wise, SUPER low res for 2022. maybe even 2020. but what they do with the horsepower is genius- they focus on scale to translate locations of objectives to a player while also reinforcing the feeling of adventure, on top of extremely strong choices in color and lighting. i hope, going forward, games focus on how they can use this kind of tech to reinforce a games "gameplay mission statement" while keeping strong artistic choices present rather than focusing on being able to wow someone with a couple of screenshots at the cost of BOTH of those things. im just ranting though french press got my ass

[liloinkoink]

*runs into inbox clothes burning and disheveled* LAMPLIGHT QUESTIONS??? YOU WANT LAMPLIGHT QUESTIONS??? (i think you made that post like four days ago so i'm late but aaaaaaaa)

what do you think is like, The Turning Point in Martyn and Ren's companionship? Or if there's more than one already written, what's your favorite?

Is there a scene that you've really been excited to write for lamplight/one that you've written but haven't shown The Public yet?

In his original party, were there like, designated roles for everyone to play? Like healer/brawler/short-range/scholar etc? If so, what role do you think Martyn specialized in? And everyone else? Is there anything you would say lamplight Martyn is good at--- like a skill or something? Also, how long had the group been together before that incident at Dogwarts?

From what I can remember, Ren and Scar are the only Gods we've seen so far--- do you have an idea of any other familiar faces that are also Gods?

Do you have any other world-building details you wanna talk about? Any Martyn or Ren thoughts that you've been wanting to talk about?

Sorry if this is too many questions, you don't have to answer all of them! Give as vague answers as you please--- honestly, anything you say about the lamplight world i Will Chew Up Like Dog Toy, so put whatever you want!

Regardless, thank you for your writing and all your efforts! I hope you have a nice day ^_^

okay this is a massive ask with so many questions in it, so im gonna repeat/bold each question and deal w em one by one

i will put this under a cut bc it is So Long. below this cut is SO MUCH lamplight worldbuilding, like, So Much, so i hope you enjoy that

what do you think is like, The Turning Point in Martyn and Ren's companionship? Or if there's more than one already written, what's your favorite?

turning point... i guess it depends how you define a turning point? any point of development in their relationship? there's been a few--heliography, with Martyn deciding to swear a real oath to Ren (if still one he can back out of); sleeping hound, w Martyn realizing Ren wouldnt ever burn him; worship the ashes, love wins. there's another big one for Martyn planned that i havent written yet, and one, maybe two or three for Ren.

my favorite, tho, hmm... i think sleeping hound.

Is there a scene that you've really been excited to write for lamplight/one that you've written but haven't shown The Public yet?

i planned the scene for how Ren gets his body back literally day one of the damn fic and i still havent written it a year later i want to SO BAD YOU DONT UNDERSTAND

literally this one fuckign scene is part of the reason i STARTED WRITING THE DAMN FIC. crying

for the latter half, i posted this!

In his original party, were there like, designated roles for everyone to play? Like healer/brawler/short-range/scholar etc? If so, what role do you think Martyn specialized in? And everyone else?

i get so many questions abt martyns og party you think after a year i would have answers to them but my answer is unfortunately always that i am a treebark writer making a treebark au and it isnt relevant to ren and martyn doing ren and martyn things so i didnt really bother

that said! i dont think they necessarily had roles? they all strike me as pretty mid-level adventurers. theyre not chosen ones on holy quests. none of them are going to have songs sung about them for decades to come. they can hold their own, but they arent saving the world. theyre like,,, fantasy backpacking. doing some minor jobs sometimes. all of em are skilled enough w their weapons/magic but none of em are like, The Fighter or The Mage.

all of them are swordsmen tho bc i think swords are cool. i think Jimmy is better at it than you think he is, but not as good as he says. he will occasionally surprise you by doing something really cool and then when he turns around to brag about it he eats shit. jimmys magic really only affects the area immediately around himself

i asked local to weigh in on bigb bc thats who im least confident on and he suggested bigb using a fighting style that heavily relies on a shield? like sword in one hand shield in the other. i think thats very sick. also, bigbs magic only affects his own body

i can see Grian having some kinda little explosives he uses to fight, tho he clearly doesnt have them anymore (and doesnt need em--bro has talons these days). he used to be immune to magic, but bc of the watchers, he now has a magical core and can be cast on, which is new to him

their group didnt have a leader, either, and all decisions were just made as a group. if asked, both Martyn and Jimmy would say they were the leader (tho neither would boast this anymore, due to believing that would imply having lead Grian to his death). Grian used to handle their money (and hes annoyed about having lost it)

Is there anything you would say lamplight Martyn is good at--- like a skill or something?

he's a musician! it's come up a few times, but he's skilled in a few instruments and has a nice singing voice. hes played a lute on page, i believe, but i think he could also use a harmonica. dont worry abt whether or not those have been invented yet i dont care i just think he deserves one. probs knows a fair amount of songs thatre good in taverns and some dances that accompany them. if he ever got tired of adventuring, he could probs make a fair amount playing at bars (he'd probs do it to fundraise for himself if he didnt have to worry abt ren's lantern)

he's also a pretty decent cook. at least, Ren really likes his cooking, when he has a body again, tho Ren hasnt eaten anything in 20 years

he's generally pretty strong/fit w good stamina to walk all day long. when Ren has a body again, Martyn will be strong enough to lift him, even tho Ren is taller than him. Ren finds this incredibly impressive. Ren finds everything Martyn does incredibly impressive

of course, there's also being a deadzone, making him completely immune to magic (within reason--if someone casts fireball at him hes still going to burn). charms and curses dont work on him at all, which is very helpful as an adventurer

Also, how long had the group been together before that incident at Dogwarts?

jimmy, grian, and martyn were childhood friends, all lived in the same town/neighborhood (Evo) and grew up together. bigb moved to their hometown/neighborhood when Dogwarts fell, he was about 10? theyve been friends ever since. so theyve known each other about 20 years minimum

(note on ages: i dont know how old any of these people actually are so in lamplight theyre all like early 30s. pretty sure grian and jimmy are like late 20s? and bigb and martyn are somewhere in their 30s? so i set em all as early 30s)

barely related, it does make me laugh Dogwarts has Watchers and Evo doesnt

From what I can remember, Ren and Scar are the only Gods we've seen so far--- do you have an idea of any other familiar faces that are also Gods?

the answer to this is uh. kind of long and a little bit hysterical. so ill first direct you to this paragraph from moonlight ch2

i did actually have uh... a few things in mind for this? but not uh. not reasonable ones

so. quite a few of them. ill be honest. to fill the paragraph and make it long and expansive i recounted the pantheon from a zolu fic abt the entire strawhat pirate crew as gods which i wrote w my friend Sam when i was like 16. i do not think the strawhat pantheon is canon to lamplight but recalling the domains i used for the strawhats was how i made a lot of the list, so, uh, take that as you will

for other characters... the god of nothing is Scar. the god of death is Kristin. the god of blood is... not Technoblade, actually? tho ive thought abt him in Lamplight. i like to think he may actually also be a paladin, he travels around w Phil. gods of places references Ren but also is a shoutout specifically to my friend Zeph who loves place gods, so i just wanted the world to have lots of them

the god of survival is actually Martyn! in leaflight, the roleswap, Martyn has long since abandoned his post as a god, but he was born the god of survival

.....oh and uh. well. the god of decay is... me! my mcrp character on another server is the god of decay. the secret truth about this specific paragraph is i wrote the entire thing so i could make a cameo in lamplight

Do you have any other world-building details you wanna talk about?

magic system... have i told you guys about magical cores? i had some of this already in mind but typing it out i made up a lot more. it is also approaching 1am so if this doesnt make any sense that's why

every person in lamplight has a magical core. it's sort of like a,,, spiritual organ? a little core of magic in them which takes magic from the air and makes it usable for an individual. cores vary in size/reserve, which is how much magic a person can do at max / how much magic their core can store. they also vary in type/strength of magic, which i guess is what a person's core processes ambient magic as

people can usually only use one kind of magic, which corresponds to what their core is. i think the type of magic is mostly determined by what/who it works on. it might work on just you and the space around you, it might work on just objects, it might work on animals, it might work on other people. magic which works on just yourself is most common and weakest, and the majority of people have that

deadzones dont have a magical core At All. theres nothing in there. straight up missing an organ. most deadzones are born this way, but i can see it be possible to become one if you Really, REALLY exhaust your core, tho that's probs rare

casting a spell depends entirely on belief. if you believe it should work, and are confident in your spell, it should do what you want, esp if it's in your power. you can... probs push your limits a bit if youre super confident, and doing this enough with enough confidence is basically the closest thing to training one's magic a person can get?

related, i can see bc of this kids having magic thats just a little stronger than adults bc of this, which is cute. kids probs also have smaller cores w smaller reserves, tho im not sure how much a core grows as a person ages

inanimate objects dont have magical cores or innate magic. i said earlier i think the lamplight world has a lot of ambient magic just floating about (which is how cores refill back to baseline once you use magic), but it doesnt stick to things unless you make it. to cast on an object, you have to use magic from your own core to adhere it to the thing youre casting on (which is why spells casted on objects dont USUALLY last that long--as said in moonlight, most only last a short while, and ren's enchants only lasted for months is just bc he was insanely powerful). you basically give items a little piece of your core with an instruction of how to use it

(jimmy's magic i think affects himself and ambient magic around him, while bigb draws entirely on his own core and can only affect himself)

i dont know if animals have magical cores ive never thought about it until this exact second. probably, but not ones most creatures know how to use? magic is belief based, they might use magic a little bit on accident? i dont know. some monsters absolutely have magical cores they know how to use

this is probs how zombies work. i think it's either a curse cast by one very powerful god/magic user a long time ago, or that people need to be properly buried or else weird things happen to their lingering magical core. or smth. i havent entirely decided

to cast on a person, you need to get your magic to stick to, cover up, or drown out Their magical core, depending on the spell. spells cast on other people dont last very long bc magical cores dont tend to like things intruding on them. this is why deadzones cant be cast on--no core, nothing for other magic to stick to

it's a little bit like a sliding scale? "weakest" magic is yourself, it's easiest to cast on yourself bc your will is your own and should generally line up w your magic, so long as you believe in what you're doing. then ambient magic, bc it's just chillin, you just need a little extra strength to grab it. then objects, tho you have to share a little will to cast on objects. then animals, they usually have smaller magical cores than ppl, friendly animals are a bit easier to bend to your will, tho some animals are harder to cast on then others, esp hostile animals or monsters. then other people. people have their own will and their own cores that are most difficult to bend/influence. so magic that works on other ppl is the "strongest"

being able to cast on a later step on the scale, like animals or ppl, doesnt mean you can do all the steps before it, tho. Scar i think can ONLY cast on living things, his magic sorta specializes in sticking to other ppls' cores. i would imagine all magic users can cast on themselves at least a little tho

to cast on a deadzone, you have to first give them a magical core, which is incredibly difficult, unstable, and dangerous. it requires a lot of power and a lot of people, which is why it did such weird things to Grian

divine magical cores are on another level entirely compared to mortals, and tho ren's was impressive as a human, it got infinitely more powerful when he became a god. he's basically a well of magic all on his own, w no limit on the size/reserve of his core

ren is overflowing w magic, but it works only on inanimate objects (things that dont have wills of their own to fight his) and himself (obviously he doesnt have to fight his own will). if Martyn werent a deadzone, he could probablt have cast on late-series Martyn, as martyn's will as ren's paladin would probs line up w ren's own

none of these rules are super hard and set in stone. lamplight magic is vibe based first and foremost

uhhh. i dont know if this all made sense? if it doesnt feel free to ask follow up questions

oh, and before anyone asks:

jimmy has a slightly more powerful core than bigb bc he can cast on ambient magic and bigb cant. bigb's core is probs bigger than jimmy's tho, so he can use more magic / use magic for longer than jimmy can

Any Martyn or Ren thoughts that you've been wanting to talk about?

heres a fun fact: gods are supposed to give their paladins blessings. Ren is no exception to this, but bc Martyn has no magical core, he cant receive them. if he did, ren's blessings would be all about protection. it'd basically be like casting armor enchants like protection and unbreaking directly on martyn's body? he'd less likely to be directly injured and sturdier in general. he would also be completely resistant to any fire, not just ren.

(the thing i said earlier is sort of why blessings work for Ren despite the fact hes technically mortal, but for other gods blessings are automatic so long as the paladin's oath stands)

Ren is aware of the fact he should be able to bless Martyn and cant and is sort of upset about it, but he blessed his armor, so he thinks thatll have to be enough

#oink asks #anonymous #lamplight au #thank you so much for all of these questions please feel free to return if you have more

[blackraged]

MORTAL KOMBAT 1 Thoughts Pt2.

[❌❌contains SPOILERS❌❌]

Continuation from yesterday

Chapter 6

They keep switching between Bromance and Romance for Kenshi and Johnny. Which one is it now???

I adore Johnny being protective of Kenshi, and Kenshi holding onto him while walking.

The way reptile switched from human to lizard, makes it look like he is not actually shape shifting, merely casting an Illusion to seem human.

Nitara is hot and all, love the design, but....who thought it was a great idea to have Megan Fox voice her? No shade but the voice acting is pretty awful.

Kenshi trying to run in with Sento but is pushed back in a comedical way by Ermac SENT ME. I felt so bad but I couldn't stop laughing.

Sento activating in this fight was pretty cool, I will not lie.

Not Jerrod shouting out for Sindel😭😭

Chapter 7

I wonder why Liu Kang didn't get fully rid of Krusty Kronika. Just because he is playing god now doesn't mean she's any harmless. But also wasn't Kronika fully destroyed?

Lesbians

Johnny and Kung Lao trying to knock out Quan Chi in the middle of the street while dressed up in those carneval suits was a sight for sore eyes.

NOT THE SIDE KICK PREDICTIONS WITH REPTILE AND KENSHI LITERALLY FLYING IN PLSSS

This entire chapter is full of comedic bits, and I'm here for it. We need more stuff like this.

Chapter 8

I like the implication that some things are inevitable, no matter how you think you shaped things differently.

I enjoy Geras and Liu Kang s friendship a lot.

So Liu didn't intend for Kronika to be alive in this timeline after all.

"Father" Is smoke now Bi-Han and Kuais brother??Was he adopted adopted??

Aight but am I the only one who thinks Smoke looks like Elon Musk? Like, for real,, it's freaking me out.

I know Smoke is voiced by Yuri Lowenthal but I keep hearing Troy Baker.

That manipulative parallel from when Shang Tsung was a Merchant still was very clever

Chapter 9

Okay crazy theory, but what if Kronika isn't Kronika, but Alt Shang Tsung in disguise???

Why am I not surprised by the betrayal. Still having hopes that Bi-Han is just bluffing to save Kuai.

Kuai being out for blood is really entertaining. That melting sword scene was so damn cool too.

Scorpion being affected and literally burned by heat somehow doesn't make sense to me. Especially with Subzero seemingly not being harmed by frost and ice. Also Havik recovered from that melt off really fcking fast. Bowing down to you, king.

Bi-Han literally showing up from behind the cold wind was such an amazing entrance. I was even jumpscared a little.

5bucks that new course is the Shirai Ryu

Chapter 10

If the second timeline the ending to aftermath where Shang Tsung won?? If so, that is the coolest decision NRS has ever made so far.

Li Mei is so pretty. I adore her so much.

Have y'all noticed how weird the run animation in this game is. It's so awkward and looks half-assed.

Mileena is such a good fighter but I hate how much she is being babied. I know it's because of Tarkat, but it's kinda silly.

Lesbians

I am very amazed with the character design improvement in this game. I thought MK11 was already damn pretty, but MK1 really put the icing on top. There are so many fine details in the environment and outfits, I am eating this up like desert.

Will hopefully finish the rest of the game tomorrow though! Last and Final thoughts coming in soon!

#mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat #mk1 #mk #li mei #liu kang #johnny cage #kung lao #kenshi takahashi #reptile #syzoth #bi han #kuai liang #sub zero #scorpion #smoke #mileena #kitana #sindel #shang tsung #nitara #ermac #quan chi #tanya #funny thoughts #my thoughts

[zedif-y]

hi!! hope you're having a good day! :D

as a zedaph Expert, i wanted to ask for your opinion on how you would characterise him? i feel like i have a vague idea on what he's like but putting it into words is hard...

it's okay if you don't answer btw!!

Hello! took me a bit to get to this ask, my bad! honestly, I struggle with writing his character as well, but I've accumulated some random notes over time that I think might be helpful :]

Notes under the cut, because it's long NDNDND

-his jokes tend to be very witty. his humor isn't sarcastic, he just Says stuff and then moves on. Scar said once that zed's the kind of person where you'll just think huh, yeah, that Is pretty funny! so sometimes his jokes are the kind where it takes a second for you to process it. they're also pretty Out There DKDNDKD

-noises. so many Noises.

-he likes to make jokes at his expense (ex: not having friends, wetting himself, i'm an idiot, etc etc)

(SIDE SHIPPY/CHARACTER RELATIONSHIP NOTE: between him and tango, tango would be the more openly "sentimental" one, in the sense that zed is more likely to make jokes about them not Actually being friends (one example is "we've been friends for too long" + the tango bit in the blockumentary video) despite the fact that Yes, Obviously they are close. I MEAN TANGO HAD AN ANSWER FOR THE "HOW LONG HAVE WE BEEN FRIENDS" QUESTION)

(EXTRA EXTRA NOTE: he and tango have a very similar sense of humor. (kind of obvious but . still!) they also like to make fun of each other)

-zed's voice goes Down an octave after laughing too much + he gets teary-eyed from laughing pretty easily.

-not a character voice note, but! zed isnt a very confrontational fighter . he prefers using potions to weaken his opponent before attacking with his sword. that being said, if he knows he's screwed, he just straight up Runs.

-zed is able to remain more level-headed than tango when it comes to puzzles. where tango is very goal-focused and gets frustrated/confused when things don't work out the way he expects, zed tries to work through them step by step instead of trying to solve it in one go. (tango is better at logic puzzles and zed is better at more Visual ones, he needs a good mental image of things)

-he makes connections you really don't think of, most times. he also doesn't like doing things the Normal, Boring way, though if you watch at least one of his videos that becomes apparent Fast.

-despite his silliness, he's actually pretty damn smart!

-he's a pretty affectionate, touchy guy! (based off of when he met skizz for the first time irl<3)

#ryan's screaming #zedaph tag #zedaphplays #anon #hope this helps!! #tangzed #zedango #hermitship #hermitshipping #<<just to be safe? but it's not like. huge

[babygirlispunk]

Clandestine

Chapter 2: The Encounter

Previous ✧ Masterlist ✧ Next

Chapter Summary: You and your people rejoice over your victory over Bo-Katan but questions still burn in your mind. A peaceful day for yourself results in an undercover recon.

Word Count: 5.5k

Chapter Content: 18+, sexual themes, good ol' pseudo-dad lovin, sexual tension and feeling up another.

Celebrations continued over a few days. Though you had not killed her, you had proven yourself the protector of your people and let it be known that Bo was at your mercy. Dodac and Jak recounted the fight multiple times to their peers, cheers-ing when they finished with your final blow that knocked her out. Items were thrown at the prized helmet placed on a pike in the middle of the temple, dripping from whatever drink had been poured on it. You sit idly on you chair at the back of the decrepit temple watching your peers dance, sing and cheer through the night. 'Oya' being chanted out loud.

The moonlight shining through the stain glass windows is block by your trusted shadow. You turn to Bessel, asking questions only with your face. He simply raised his eyebrows and points his head towards door and makes his way. You follow behind smiling at the men and women on the way congratulating you over again.

You sit beside Bessel in front of the bonfire in the court yard. Without prompting, he speaks. "They seem to have gotten their wounds tended to and have finally left the planet."

"How did they look?"

"She was unrecognisable, barely walking. Dignity gone." he reports.

"And the other one?" Bes scoffs at your question, fidgeting with his gloves, staring into the pit within the flames, something clearly still bothering him. It was very rare for him to ever be snarky so you hesitate to ask- "Speak your mind Bes."

"You seem particularly interested in the silver one." His gaze dips to the ground, contemplating his words. "I saw you eyeing him down in the market, even when Bo was right in front of you." Eyebrows furrowed, you look at Bes worried. "And again, when she was at your feet, you were distracted by him. You may not have realised how long had passed when you were face to face but Dodac and Jak noticed it too." His voice trails off.

You could hear concern in his voice. Your current father figure and second in charge since you escaped Mandalore, you understand why he would be protective of you. But you were a grown woman and a leader. No time for whatever he was trying to imply. "Were you not intrigued as well? Did it not occur to you that he held the darksaber and not Bo? A child of the watch nonetheless..."

"He was just another Mando from her crew." Bes still stares at the ground. "She's muddled with so many different chakaaryc, it's no surprise she's working with that di'kut."

"Di'kut or not, you know as well as I that she would not just give the saber away to anyone. Not over her own dead body."

Bes sits in a moments silence trying to make sense of it as well. "You've heard the rumours, she lost it during the Great Purge, stolen or won by someone else. Maybe it was him."

You stand up from your seat, frustrated by his reasoning. You pace in the spot, flexing the scar on your burnt hand, now healed; courtesy of Vi'ra. But it itches, just like the frustration gnawing at you.

"I just want to know what the damn dynamic is between them. It just makes no sense. Who is he and why hasn't she taken the sword from him." Crossing your arms, you turn to the fire for warmth, Bessel sighing behind you. "He was right though."

"About what?" Bes asks cautiously.

"As much as we don't want to say it... She definitely could have won that fight. She was always the better fighter."

"I think it is unfair to compare yourself to when you would spar with her as a child and she was grown. You have trained fiercely and have shown yourself a worthy fighter my lady." Boasting like he were your actual father.

But the truth was the truth. "Bo is known galaxy wide not only for her crimes but her undeniable fighting skills as well. She held back... and I think she told him to as well"

"So why didn't you kill her when you had the chance. Even though the covert is celebrating, I hear the whispers questioning why you spared her and didn't take the saber when you knocked him too."

"It was a cheap shot, he let me get him. So I didn't win the sword righteously. And it's more trouble than it's worth."

"More trouble than in the hands of someone else? Someone that fights besides her? He doesn't even have a drop of real Mandalorian blood."

Silence falls between the two of you as you lose yourself in your thoughts watching the flames flicker and spark. Even though you were young, the covert chose you to lead them. They saw the qualities you hold resemble the late Duchess, your cousin, Satine. With the confidence of the people, you found confidence in yourself to lead them and keep them safe. No one had ever questioned your judgment, so to hear Bessel question you and the whispers going on behind your back... maybe you didn't make the right choice sparing Bo. Maybe that is were your resemblance with Satine faulters. Would you share the same fate as her?

"Did I make a mistake."

"Would you like me to send a scout to track them?" He avoids your question with another. He was good like that, not letting your doubts get the better of you and instead offering guidance.

You think hard about your next move. In a situation like this, there was only one person you trusted. "Yes... and I want you to be the one to do that." You turn back to face Bes and he is stunned.

"I know you are capable and we have other strong fighters but I do not feel comfortable leaving you alone." His eyes are stern as always but you see a slight prick of concern in them.

"You are my trusted advisor and guard, which means you will be the best person to make any necessary decisions if the occasion arises. If you see or find anything of concern, I trust that you will make the right choice that will benefit us." His eyes search your face, conflicted. "If there is ever trouble, I know you can protect yourself and come back home to us. And to give you peace of mind, you can choose who will temporarily hold your place by my side."

Bes begrudgingly agrees, knowing he would do whatever his Marchioness wants and needs. If it meant travelling the stars away from you and keeping the usurper and stranger away, then so be it.

A couple days had passed. Bessel had patrolled the planet for sightings and intel on Bo and Din, making sure they had really left the planet before taking off into the stars to find them, wherever that may be.

The clan is running back to normal. Training in the court yard, taking on bounties, participating in activities and labour for the locals around the farm lands and the city and negotiating within Keren commercial hub.

Comforted by the news that Bo and Din are not on planet anymore, you have decided that you would spend the day in the city without your armour.

"Are you sure you don't want me to escort you?" Dodac, who for now takes Bessel's place, stumbles around you trying not to stand on your dress as you make your way out the temple gates. "Even if they aren't here, there may be other threats. I'm sure Zo'ha told you about the rouge Ganguns attacking the fishing villages."

"I'll be fine. Ganguns are easy pickings and I wouldn't leave without a weapon. You know this."

Dodac scans over your body trying to find said weapon before you expose your thigh from the slit of your dress and reveal the small pistol strapped on. He blushes at the realisation before standing with his hands to his side and bowing his head. "I'm sorry my lady, I'm just doing my best to live up to Bes' role."

You give him a small chuckle. Since Bes had chosen Dodac to hold his role, he had been running around, frazzled, ordering people and taking on every job and query. He was more accustomed to taking orders rather than giving them. Along with the new work load, he had also become overbearingly protective of you like you were a child. He was doing his best but you do wish he treated you as he did before.

"I'm the one you should be scared of." You jest getting an awkward laugh out of him. "Comm me for anything you are unsure of, suvarir?"

He nods diligently and you continue on towards town. He breathes out a deep sigh and you hear him click his comm.

"And you better not send anyone to shadow me!"

"Dank Farrik" He hisses under his breath.

You make you way to town by yourself, today of all days, because it was your birthday. Which is why Bessel had given you your gift before he set off.

"It only made sense that our leader has a new gun to protect us and herself rather then giving all the good resources to her people." Bes passes the gun to you even after your protests. He had wrapped it in a limp bow that had been tied over and over again, a sign that he had struggled to make it look nice but the sentiment was well appreciated. It was definitely a newer model.

Looking up at him and you give him a sad smile. "This would have costed so many credits..."

"You are worth it." He gives you a gruffy smile back. "And it will give me peace of mind knowing that piece of shit pistol you have won't be blowing up in your hand again."

You wrap your arms around Bessel's giant body, fingers barely reaching the other around him and squeeze tightly. "Vor entye."

"Always a pleasure serving you." Bes murmurs your name.

If it weren't for Bes, you truly believe you would have forgotten your real name long ago. After years being called by your moniker assigned by your father, you always feel dazed by the sound of your birth name. When you were adopted into the Kryze family, your father thought you were deserving of a more distinguished and memorable name than your own, which was reserved for family and close friends. "Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad" He said appointing you as Calista Kryze. Now even, no one in the clan knows it.

"I must go now before their trail is lost."

You squeeze him tighter. Even though it was you who set him on the task and know him proficient enough, it still ached you to let him go. He has been by your side since the Great Purge, served your father and mother and was there the day you were adopted. He was the one to speak on your behalf and convince them you were the one to lead the then disparaged and lost Mandalorians.

"Make sure you come back alive."

"Ret'urcye mhi"

You usually spent your Birthday with Bes. You would tour around Naboo, visit the capital, window shop at boutiques well out of your price ranges, watch the street acts, hang out at the social clubs listening to the jazzy music. Of course, everyone else thought we were doing recon while reports would go through Bes and he would decide whether they were worth interrupting your day, otherwise he wouldn't tell you and let you enjoy the one day you aren't a leader. He was truly the father you had lost during the Great Purge, guiding you but still letting you grow into your own. Even spoiling you every so often, like the pistol. A few years back he had also bought the dress you are wearing now. He justified it by saying that you had to wear it every year to make up for the credits and that when we were back home, not even then were you wearing your armour every day.

(this is the vibe of the dress I had in mind, but more in a sand colour, minus the pearl straps and more off the shoulder look with the sleeves and of course the slit on the right leg)

But with him out in space, you decided it was best to stay in Keren to stay close to your people in case of emergency. The walk from the temple was a decent hike to Keren (shorter by jetpack and speeder) but you were happy wasting hours away enjoying the nature around you. Like every other day on Naboo, it was beautiful. Sun shining down warming up your body but cooled down by the soft breeze. Nature was abundant and thrived from the favouring environment. You always forget how soothing it was to feel the world interact with your body rather than be blocked off by beskar.

When you eventually reach the main city, it is bustling with trade and business. Bodies are pacing around, traders yelling out their sales, vendors sizzling what ever it is they are cooking. Men haggling, women gossiping, children laughing. Surveying the area, everything seems normal. You speak to a few locals and traders, getting any insight on suspicious activity. Even though Naboo was a relatively quiet planet didn't mean it was adverse to smugglers, mercs and other trouble. There were enough jobs to keep you and your people busy and the credits flowing, occasionally accepting the rare off world bounty job for that extra bit of credit.

We kept low and in small groups, wearing robes over your armour to avoid suspicion and circumvent any alarms raising from the capital. We blended in with the local as best as we could.

You perch yourself against a wall to rest your feet, cursing to yourself that you didn't wear better shoes instead opting for a pair of sandals to match your dress. To distract yourself from the pain you listen on other conversations.

Nothing of note. Not till you notice a slight change in the atmosphere. It felt almost silent even when people were still talking. Something was off. You looked around following the direction everyone was gazing. Just out of sight there was a group of people huddled together watching something.

You make your way over, grunts and punches getting louder as you draw near. You pray it wasn't one of yours caught up in a petty brawl. Squeezing your way through the horde, lo and behold, the silver Mandalorian stands before you. Bes was thorough, how did Din get past him unnoticed?

He's holding a Twi'lek by the throat. Your hand rubs at your own neck, heart rate picking up a little, remembering yourself in the same position not long ago.

The Twi battered up and clearly losing, he lifts his other arm for another punch. The Twi'lek throws up his hands in surrender nearly crying, regretting whatever it was he did to antagonise Din.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he pleads. Din's grip squeezed harder around his throat. You get a bit of a warm feeling down your stomach seeing his hand wrapped whole around the Twi's neck. "I just.. wanted to see i-if it was real be -be-beskar!" The Twi barely gets his words past Din's hand, turning a darker shade of blue than what he already is.

You snort at the idea of someone trying to grab your armour too. Your reaction wouldn't have been much different.

Din let's go around the Twi's throat and they drop to the ground. Like a hive mind, the onlookers surrounding the scuffle quickly disperse not wanting to be Din's next victim. Except for you. You stand grounded when you realise his helmet is looking in your direction. You hover your hand over you strapped leg, ready to make the first shot if you need to.

He starts walking towards you and you hand itches to grab your gun but it seems as though he is coming in for a close fight.

But he doesn't.

He just keeps walking, like you weren't even there. On his way past you his arms bumps your shoulder, momentarily losing your balance.

"Hey!"

He stops in his tracks and looks over his shoulder to look at you. "What's your problem? Was that your buddy I beat up?" he snarls.

"Huh?" As soon as you responded you realised what was going on here. You had your face screwed, eyebrows pinched together clearly pissed off to see him back but he didn't recognise you. A cool breeze swirling around your dress reminded you that you weren't armoured up. To him, you were just some random angry woman.

He just scoffs and trudges off into the crowd, sun glinting off him just like the first time you saw him

You speak into your comm. "Who is patrolling the Keren market?"

"Tiiona and Jak, my lady. Are you okay?" Dodac sounds stressed.

"Have they reported anything?"

"Nothing of note."

You consider whether this is worth reporting but since you were amour-less and may need back up on call, you comm back. "I have spotted Bo's partner."

"Dank Farrik! Do you we take action my lady?

"No. Inform them but tell them to keep back. I'll trail him myself. It seems he has come back alone."

"What if he spots you?"

"He doesn't know my face, I am just a local to him"

"Noted. If you don't comm me in an hour, I will send back up."

"Make it two."

You start following behind at a distance. Ebbing and weaving through the crowd, traders occasionally stopping him on his path trying to coax him to buy their products. He shoos them off and continue to push his way through the crowd. Eventually he stops, staring into one of the alleyways, contemplating his next turn. He carries on and you quickly rush to the corner to peak over. He takes a few steps and enters, disappearing behind the wall. Waiting a few moments, you follow suit, nearing closer you hear music coming from the entrance of a cantina. You recognise that you are at Club Sedatus.

Checking both directions before entering, you shimmy past two other people making their out. Music envelopes you as you walk in. Compared to the likes of Tatooine, this cantina is more sophisticated. Dim lighting mainly emitting from the bar in the centre of the room, private booths and jazzy music. Few people dancing on the open space.

Din stands at the bar, light glowing off him like the moon, both his hands placed down and talking to Boler the bartender. He was mixing up a glass for another person clearly trying to ignore him. As you walked towards the bar you could hear frustrations brewing between them, Din pointing his finger at Boler, threatening him.

"I'm telling you buddy, I don't know where the Mando's are. No one knows or cares where they hide." He passes the drink to a Mon Calamari who takes it, walking back to their friends. He too puts hands on the bar leaning forward trying to match Din's energy but fails, you see his finger tapping nervously. "Some pass by every now and then. But they never stick around long enough."

"What do they look like?" He says husky and deep.

"Which ones?"

"Any of them!"

Before Boler can answer, you interject. "Can I get a drink or is this where we come to gossip." You speak more sweetly than usual to avoid him recognising your voice.

"You're back. Come for more alcohol for your celebration?"

You stiffen at the mention of the celebration, seeing Dins head turn towards you from the corner of your eye. You hold back from looking at him but you could feel yourself burning under his gaze. You decided to treat your clan with drinks for the celebrations after defeating Bo, buying the alcohol from Boler under the guise of your birthday. He was very eager to sell days worth of alcohol and may have up'd the price as well.

"We still have plenty left over, thank you. Enough for whatever birthday comes next." You smile.

"If you have so much left, why are you here to drink?" You realise your contradiction as Din questions you.

You finally look at him, staring into the black abyss of his visor. "I like the atmosphere here. I needed something more calm after spending days partying."

"How old are you now?" Boler asks.

"Old enough." you chuckle out sarcastically, still very aware that Din is burning holes into you. "Now can I have that drink?"

Boler gives a wink and starts shaking up a concoction for you. You stand there watching him trying to seem as relaxed as possible despite the fact you could see in your peripheral vision that the silver menace was still eyeing you down. You decide to engage with him instead.

"Want a hologram? It lasts longer."

No response.

"You want a drink?"

No response.

"You awake in there?" You wave your hand in front of his helmet.

He grabs you by the wrist. "Did you follow me here just to bother me?"

You snort at the audacity. He was the one staring yet calls you a bother? He was getting on your nerves. "I was on my way here actually. If anyone's bothering anyone, it's you."

His helmet turns towards the hand his holding, head cocking to the side as he inspects it.

"What happened to your hand?"

You freeze. Surely he didn't notice when your old pistol blew up in your hand. He would have been too busy fighting your men. You had to think quick fast.

"I fell into a fire pit during my celebration." You say trying to sound ditsy as possible, yanking your wrist away from him.

Without a word he levers himself off the bar and walks past behind you, noticeably close, his arm skimming past the exposed part of your back making it tighten. You fight back your warrior instinct to react to his touch but you don't want to give yourself away or cause a scene. Instead you look over your shoulder, eyeing him, observing him as he walks towards a booth. You notice him slightly keeling over one side more than the other and his left hand grasping his side where you stabbed him. You smile to yourself, proud of what you did. He drops into the booth ungraciously, banging his hand on table frustrated, causing a few eyes to turn his way.

Boler passes you your drink, a fizzy green concoction, along with an extra glass. You look at him confused.

"For the shiny fella." You continue looking at him just as confused. "I noticed he didn't take his eyes off you as soon as you arrived. I think he was a bit shy. Maybe some liquid courage from a pretty gal might help."

You laughed at Boler's misread of the situation. But you would take any excuse to talk to Din and find information on him.

"Wish me luck." You give Boler the credits, grab the drinks and make your way to the booth.

Avoiding any possibilities of rejection, you sit yourself down in Din's booth opposite him without asking for permission. You place the extra drink down and slide it across the table, taking a sip of your own. Ignoring it, and you, he looks away and surveys the room. It was a small booth so your legs were just shy of each other.

"Don't drink on the job or something?"

"No." Short and curt...

"Looks like you've had a rough day...or week. Just have a sip, take that helmet off, let your hair loose." You remember that not all Mando's are human. "Or tentacles, whatever it is you have under there."

"The helmet doesn't come off." Still not looking at you.

"Why not."

"It is a part of my religion."

You hold yourself from rolling your eyes back into the next sector, keeping your composure and playing the part of a clueless local. You pretended to sigh and lean onto your palm, elbow propped up on the table, other hand circling the rim of your glass. Unable to get his attention, you examine his get up. His armour was recently made, no remarkable dents or scratches in sight. You try to imagine up whatever bounty or mission he had to do in order to get such an abundant amount of beskar.

High risk, high reward. Which meant he was a very capable fighter, maybe even at Bo's level. Only made sense since he held off three of your men.

You could just make out the reflection of your silhouette on his chest plate, still dumbfounded that he lets himself walk around like that. It was as if he wanted to be seen by all, break necks as he entered any room. It felt very contradictory to how the children of the watch preferred to live in secrecy. You almost feel jealous of his armour compared to your ages old one. Your eyes follow up to his helmet, still surveying the room. Like a statue, laying back with his arm propped up on the seat, you could get a more visual on the man behind the metal.

He might not be as towering as Bes, he was still tall enough to be threatening... to others. Broad shoulders, lean looking beneath his undershirt, big hands...

You realise you had been 'examining' long enough and small talk wasn't cutting it. He may be Mandalorian but he was also still a man.

"Must be lonely."

He simply huffs in annoyance in response.

"Not being able to be intimate with others..."

He slowly turns to face you. Head cocked.

"Living a life not knowing what it feels like to be interconnected with one another's body. Feeling each other skin, heat, desperation for one another. Hearing and experiencing each other bring one another to euphoria." You notice just the slightest change in his breathing, slower and deeper. You start rubbing your knee softly against his. "How do you all even procreate..."

He leans forward closer to you, chest plate resting on the edge of the table, his legs grazing along yours. You feel goosebumps crawling up your legs from what you can only assume is repulsion from his touch. You almost lurch back when you feel his thumb rubbing on your exposed knee. How did he so swiftly take his glove off without you realising? Your senses and instincts start popping off but you must stay focused. You are in disguise.

As you hold still, circling your glass, playing along nonchalantly, he speaks low and dark. "The helmet may not be able to come off, but it doesn't mean the rest can't."

Your breath hitches but you keep playing along. "You lot must be ugly wherever you're from if you're keeping those helmets on. Disguising it with religion is an extreme way to hide that. Where are you even from?"

You couldn't help yourself from poking fun at the extremist ways they lived but he probably thought your comment was out of ignorance.

"We are from Mandalore."

"Isn't that a dead planet now? You all must have moved somewhere else?" You say it as ignorantly as possible despite it hurting a little to mention your home planet.

"We are scattered all over the galaxy." He was being coy and losing interest as his thumb on your knee stopped moving, you had to reel him back in.

You slide your hips forward closer to the edge of the seat and resulting in his hand gliding further up your leg. In your desperation, you forgot about your pistol strapped to you and Dins hands bump into it. The stillness of his upper half would have you think he didn't notice it but his hand tracing the outline of the gun says otherwise. Your stomach twisting at the position you have put yourself in, letting your self be caressed by the zealot.

"What do we have here." his husky voice vibrates from the helmet, his hand starts to feel hot to the touch.

"A gift from my father... for my birthday today."

"Right, the celebrations the bartender spoke of. So why aren't you having celebrations today?"

You realise you had messed up your own lie. But not really.

"As I said, I like the atmosphere here and I needed something more calm after spending days partying. I was looking for something more intimate." You bite your lower lip still attempting to seduce him.

You boldly place your exposed leg between his, your sandal ever so slightly touching his crotch. He grips your thigh and lets out a soft chuckle sending a hot, aggravating flush down your body making you squirm a little inside. You were getting flustered and your heavier breathing was making it hard to sit up right as he massaged into your thigh. Gripping both hands on the end of your seat to balance your self, neck sinking into your shoulders as you hold your gaze on him and letting yourself be able to apply more pressure from your foot onto his crotch. Unsure if it was the thickness of his pants but it felt firmer down there.

"So how old are you?" He continues to lower his hand past the gun strap, down your leg until he reaches the crease of your ass. Thumb now circling over the seam of your underwear. You whimper unexpectedly, thwarted by the position you have put yourself in but you hope it sounded more like a moan. You were suppose to be asking him the questions, not the other way around.

"O-old e-enough." You barely breath out

Unmoved, Din stares at you, thumb still circling. You don't know if his eyes are wandering over your body, watching your chest heave up and down or if he is staring straight into your eyes reading your thoughts and knowing it is all an act. You notice that his shoulder are rising and falling heavier as well, seeming as effected as you by your current disposition. It was almost as if both you were trying to anticipate each others next move but not wanting to be the first one to make it.

The tension is broken from a beeping coming from his brace. The heat of his hand falling away from your underwear and gently grabbing your leg and placing it back down on the ground, you watch, lost for words as he puts his glove back on, giving you a moments glance to see his big hand.

Standing up, he gives you a once over. "Happy Birthday mesh'la. Shame I can't celebrate with you."

You are caught by surprise by his use of Mando'a you nearly missed the fact he was leaving.

As he struts off, you find any excuse to keep him here. "I've seen and talked to other Mandalorians!"

You instantly regret your words knowing they could bite you in the ass. He is just stood there, leaning on one leg in your direction, almost as if he wants to go back to you. A few seconds pass before his brace beeps again grabbing his attention. He looks down at it and back to you. It is hard to get a read on what he's thinking but before you know it, he's striding towards the exit, armour giving one last gleam before disappearing in the sunlight.

Stunned by the sudden change of pace, your eyes lock on where he was sat just seconds ago, caressing you... When you finally take a giant breath that you didn't realise you were holding, your whole body shivers, absolute contempt at how low you brought your self. All for nothing! Not even a sliver of information. You feel sticky, hot and a little antsy as if your body is still anticipating something.

Frustrated, you snatch the untouched drink across the table, scull it and throw it at the now empty seat. A few eyes glance your way as you let out a loud huff and the glass falls to the floor.

After getting some composure back, you figure you might as well comm back to report your failed recon.

"Dodac"

"Are you okay, you sound out of breath?" You roll your eyes over his protectiveness coming off more annoying then cute right now.

"I've lost visual on him." No need for the details. "Tell Tiiona and Jak to find him and keep tabs. No engaging. That's an order."

You are reminded of what broke the tension. The beeping of his brace... "I was close enough to hear his brace alert him of something. He may be rendezvousing with someone or he has a possession under threat. See what Tiiona and Jak can find."

"Yes my lady."

You throw your head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. The events buzzing and repeating through your brain, the feeling of his hand ghosting on your leg maintaining your anger. You definitely will not be sharing this desperate attempt at recon to anyone. Ever.

You continue to brew in your frustrations.

"That asshole called me mesh'la."

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#din djarin #the mandalorian #mando'a #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x mandalorian!reader #bo katan kryze #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic

[xerith-42]

Redesign The Nine Part 3 (sort of)

If you haven't read the previous posts in this series, don't worry. In the last two posts I turned my attention to characters who didn't exist, or characters who's development/implementation in the story left a lot to be desired. This is going to be more of that second one, mostly because I love all of the characters I'm going to talk about in this post.

This post is partially redesign, but mostly analysis of the Jury and how these established characters might interact with less established characters to flesh out the Jury of Nine as a whole. I just gave it the same title for consistencies sake, please know that I am not making any drastic changes to these characters that would contradict or retcon their purpose in the story. It's mostly adding extra details around what we already know.

With that being said, let's get started with

Ivy The Venom Scythe

Why doesn't Ivy have a scythe? It's in her fucking name, why didn't they-- well I guess I have to!

Bam!

(image found on Pinterest)

This is Ivy's scythe now. Size and all. Big fuck off scythe that's kind of impractical but god damn does it look cool when she uses it. How does a girl learn to use a scythe like this? By being a weapon raised by farmers.

Ivy was raised to believe that her worth as a person was determined by her ability to protect herself. Unlike many other members of the Jury, Ivy doesn't come from Ru'aun. She comes from Tu'la, where might and fury is upheld as aspirational. Growing up in the outer kingdoms, separate from the tyrannical rule of the king, Ivy never had any sense of civic duty to her kingdom. However, she was raised to be a weapon to protect her family's homestead.

She learned how to use a scythe because it was something always around her parents farm, something that made her stand out against any poor boy with a sword and gave her a unique flare she hoped to use to instill fear into her enemies. Ivy's dreams of guts and glory where shattered when she was just a teenager and her little family farm and the village adjacent to it were beset by colonizers of the main kingdom.

That day Ivy failed. She was raised to be a weapon and she failed, barely making it out alive with her dad and getting on a boat to Ru'aun. It stuck with her in a way she never wanted to admit. She later came to greatly resent her parents, but this event and this failure still haunts her. Just in... Different ways. In Ru'aun Ivy quickly picks up on the fact that the best way to survive is to become a guard. She doesn't really understand the inner workings of Ru'aun's political and religious powers, she just needs a means of supporting herself and goes out and gets it.

And she goes so hard that she makes the top of the Jury list without trying. She was literally raised to protect her family, raised to be a fighter, she knows the answers to any tests they ask her without studying anything. She doesn't fight with a sword, she demands that she fight with a scythe, using a terrible wooden one as a demonstration of her skills. She ends up breaking it over someone's body because she went too hard, but it was impressive as hell. Ivy garners instant attention and recognition for her abilities, and when instructors are writing the Jury list, she's the top name on all of them.

But there is one worry. Ivy's attitude. Despite her great combat prowess, Ivy has a really stand off-ish personality. She didn't really interact with other people a lot and tends to be really awkward in conversations. Eventually she just starts intimidating people because it's easier to get them to do what she wants if they think she'll gut them. And she will.

There's a worry that her stubbornness and lack of cooperative skills will make her unfit for the Jury, who are meant to be a collective that fights stronger together. Fortunately for Ivy, this Jury is run by Zane Ro'Meave who has no morals and pragmatic ideals that serve his own ends instead of upholding the sanctity of a centuries old tradition that barely worked. When Zane meets Ivy she threatens him at one point because her brain just has not had the capacity to wrap around how important Zane is. He reminds her of the stuck up nobles that were always badgering her parents to sell their land and become a part of their kingdom.

Zane is endlessly amused by this angry lesbian threatening him with a sharpened gardening tool, and doesn't even think twice about letting her in. He even assigns her name before she's signed all the paperwork signing her rights away to Zane. Ivy the Venom Scythe. It's too fitting. Ivy takes great pride in this name, and in time take great pride in serving Zane.

Her initial judgement wasn't wrong, but she sees the benefit of being in his good graces. There's an element to people who've left Tu'la that I love to implement. This lingering, always present but never quite visible fear, the threat on the horizon but our of focus. Tu'la and the colonizing fucks that run the major kingdoms are always a quiet threat. Ivy sees what O'Khasis looks like, gets a sense for it's military and their values, and gets a taste for how ruthless Zane is and she realizes if anyone stands a chance against them, it's him.

That's why Ivy is loyal to Zane. And that's why Zane always has faith in her, even if he doesn't express it. He doesn't need to blackmail her by threatening her family, because she gladly moves her dad into a nice home in O'Khasis where he won't pose any threat. And over time, as Ivy spends less and less time away from him, she realizes skills she has outside of being a weapon. Thanks to Zane, possibly Teony, maybe Janus, Ivy does start to come out of the armor she's put around herself.

Teony spends a night with her where Ivy confesses that she actually really likes classical theatre. She used to watch theatre troupes that traveled the countryside do different plays and epics and she loves them so much. Zane makes her realize the value of how analytical she is about people. Ivy is naturally talented at reading people, a skill she's picked up over the years of watching people's footsteps in combat. She knows how to get into an enemy's head and then make a battle plan around it, and she attends almost all of Zane's war room meetings because of this.

As Ivy realizes more and more the person she is outside of what her parents wanted for her, a sort of resentment starts to grow. She starts to reflect on experiences differently. Some fond story about a time that her father taught her a harsh lesson quickly makes her feel angry and protective, how dare he speak to her like that. What gave him the right to harm a child? And why didn't her mother ever do anything?

Ivy doesn't like to be controlled. It's what her parents taught her whenever they talked about their disdain for the kingdoms vying for territory at all times. That the best thing they could be is free of all of them. None of them actually care about their individual lives, they're just numbers, just spots on a map they can say they own. She realizes that her parents thought of her the same way.

Barely their daughter, just something to fend off the enemy. How could she ever be ready to fight an entire kingdom? She was a child, and they took that away from her. How dare they. If there's one thing we know about Ivy, she's ruthless, and she doesn't like being controlled. She tends to take matters into her own hands, and she isn't afraid to cut the threads tying her to a legacy she no longer cares to protect.

Ivy rebuilds her life in Ru'aun, serving Zane, fighting for O'Khasis, forming relationships that mean something with other members of the Jury. And then Teony leaves. Ivy wasn't around when it happened, only getting the letter Teony left from her. That's when things change... Probably not for the better. That's when Ivy starts leaving for jobs longer and longer, taking on projects in other regions even if she isn't who Zane wanted to send.

She starts to desperately chase after Teony because in a life of being a weapon for someone Teony was the first person who liked her fighting but made her feel like a person. Teony gave Ivy hope that she could have a life outside of fighting, killing, and intimidating. She still lives this life but her heart has started to fall out of it and it's almost like she's grieving.

This all comes to a head when Janus finds her in Gal'ruk. He sought her out. He hunted her down when Zane was content to leave her while he achieved his goals in Ru'aun. He hunted her down because Zane is gone now, and so is Lilian. Janus didn't have many people he ever connected with, only three, and Ivy is at the bottom of that list. But he needs some tether after everything else is gone, and quite frankly so does Ivy.

The two travel together for quite some time, but eventually end up in Tu'la, a place Ivy is surprisingly eager to return to. Her eagerness is because she wants to prove to those militants and the monarchy that they failed. They failed to kill her, failed to end her bloodline, and failed to keep down a resistance force against their tyranny, especially with Janus at her side.

[looks at the canon for what happened to Janus in Tu'la]

THIS DID NOT GO WELL.

Needless to say trying to stand up to your oppressors starts to fall apart when your best friend kills a few civilians and then said oppressors respond by killing your friend. As admirable of a fight as Janus put up, as hard as he fought, even he fell to their might. Janus was slain and Ivy was left with a choice. The Tu'la military has some great respect for her due to her fury, her fighting prowess, and the fact that she's a natural born Tu'la citizen. She deserves a nice cushy spot in their ranks as a proper warrior of Menphia. Ivy is left with three choices.

Run, hide, or fight. She chooses to hide, playing the long game she always has and taking the job in the Tu'la military, accepting her guard dog, and using her friends sword as a secondary weapon in remembrance of everything she's lost. Ivy serves knowing that one day she will become a thorn in their side and a knife in their back. Ivy has always fought for her own survival, and the greatest threat to that survival has always been Tu'la.

That doesn't change just because she works for them.

Katelyn The Firefist

Imagine this. You're born to a large, not so well off family living in the fringes of the biggest city in the continent. While you could have moved somewhere better at some point in your life, that point is gone now. Now you have three baby brothers to look after, a mom who is gone all the time, and a dad who is working himself into an early grave and still unable to provide. What do you do?

Katelyn fought back. She may have been the only girl in a family of boys but she was manlier than all of them. She convinced her dad to teach her to fight before her oldest brother could even walk. She was an energetic and occasionally violent child. It was good for her to be trained in how to kill someone so she wouldn't accidentally kill one of her family members if she wasn't paying attention.

Katelyn sparred with her brothers all through their childhoods, it's how she connected with them, how they came to be close. Not all of them took to fighting, but they still learned self defense from Katelyn. She never talked to them about it, but it's clear that the environment she grew up in wasn't always pretty. As O'Khasis started to have more presence bandits were driven out and things became more peaceful. But even still, Katelyn never trusted O'Khasis fully.

She really didn't like that she never saw the full face of its leader. It meant they would always have things to hide. Nevertheless, in an attempt to not only get her family out of poverty, but also to potentially serve and see behind the dark secret of the O'Khasis Elite, Katelyn applied to the guard academy, expecting to get her certification and then work as a guard at the Ro'Meave Estate.

She wasn't expecting to make the Jury list. It was just not a thought that ever crossed her mind despite knowing it was a thing. Katelyn was content to do her own thing, and while she could be friendly with her classmates, she never made the offer herself. She always had to be coaxed out of her shell by others, and few made attempts to really connect with or understand her. She didn't go to the Academy to make friends, she went to make a living.

Instead the day before her graduation ceremony she was approached by Zane Ro'Meave. He seemed delighted to meet her, genuinely excited after all he'd heard of her fighting prowess. I mean, she never fought with a sword.

All that time it was hand to hand. Gauntlet to armor. Bladed glove to throat. Different members of the Jury stood out for unique weapon selections and mastery, but Katelyn stood out for being able to kill a fully armored guard without a weapon. She would be an invaluable asset as Zane's personal guard, able to cover a weak spot in his security. One issue.

As Zane and Katelyn are talking, one of her brothers comes running into the courtyard, excited to see his big sister after so long. Her dad brought them early to surprise her at the worst possible time. Zane responds to the presence of her family professionally, even introducing himself to her father and speaking to him about Katelyn getting the Jury position before she even agreed to it.

Despite not knowing Zane, Katelyn can't fight the feeling that this is wrong. That she should be shielding her family away from whatever was hiding behind Zane's mask. But now her dad knows she has this opportunity, she could be a true hero to her brothers, give them the life they deserve. Any doubt she has about the position is overshadowed by her unending love for her family. She takes the position, moves her family into central O'Khasis, and serves Zane exclusively now.

One issue. Katelyn cannot fucking stand Zane. She's really good at biting her tongue and clenching her fist, but Zane isn't an idiot. He can see the change in her expression, the twitch of her brow, the way she gets tense when he brings up less than moral ideas. He knows that she's thought of punching him hard enough to knock his head off, but still needs her to know she can't really hurt him.

The day before he plans to put this in action, Katelyn meets a fellow member of the Jury, the one who joined a year before she did. Their initial interaction doesn't leave her with much, just an idea of the kind person he is. It's their interaction the next day that matters. It's what Zane says to Katelyn.

At this point, she's been in the Jury for a few months. And while she's shown no outward intent to harm Zane, he feels it's only inevitable before she does and decides to nip it in the bud. This is when Zane instates a new rule. Jury of Nine members are not to have family.

Katelyn has a few options, all of them running through her faster than she's able to keep track of as Zane speaks. All she can think of is how miserable her life would be without her brothers, without her dad's cooking, without the joy they bring her. She doesn't know if she can live a life without them. But as it is, her options are limited.

She could quit the Jury, but it would be a black mark against her in the eyes of O'Khasis. She'd be seen as a deserter, and her chances of finding work as a guard would be gone. Her reputation would never be able to recover from this. She could cut off her family, renounce them, and instruct them to never speak to or attempt to contact her. She'd lose the thing that means most to her, but Zane promises they'll be supported so long as she works for him.

He doesn't need to say why, or what happens if she decides to take... Drastic measures. Even if she ran away, there's a chance Zane would send someone else from the Jury to take her out and cover their tracks, and whoever that was certainly wouldn't leave the rest of her family alive. "Willingly" cutting herself off from her family to keep the Jury position is the only way to ensure their safety.

Katelyn promises to do it in the morning before the decree is announced to the public. If she doesn't, she knows what'll happen. Katelyn manages to keep it together long enough to get past Zane, but the minute she finds somewhere alone in the estate she breaks. She breaks and she sobs and she wails and she mourns the family she's done so much to protect that she may never see again after tomorrow.

It's there that the man she met before becomes more than just a colleague. It's in the outer part of the Ro'Meave garden that Katelyn is offered a handkerchief and a shoulder to cry on by a man she never expected to leave an impact on her the way he did. It's there that Katelyn learns she isn't alone. He has to leave his daughter under the watch of a caretaker assigned by Zane, and nobody is allowed to know about her, even if she's his pride and joy and he carries not only a folded up drawing of her, but he even has some of her artwork or poorly written letters to him.

The sincerity shown and the vulnerability between both of them is palpable, something stronger than the metaphorical blades to their neck held by Zane. While Zane may be holding them hostage in a way, during a quiet tear filled talk in the garden, they're holding hands, and showing love to one another in spite of it all.

Katelyn would later recall this conversation as the only reason she was able to get through the next day of her life. Saying goodbye to her family is... Crushing. Nothing in their life is to change, other than the occasional presence of an O'Khasis guard to make sure they don't break Zane's rules. Katelyn's dad is keen enough to know that Katelyn doesn't want to say goodbye to her family, but is putting up a tough facade to protect them. He knows his daughter well enough to know that she wouldn't do this if she had any other choice.

Her brothers don't take it as well, heartbroken, angry, and devastated. While one of them can't even look her in the eye, Kacey won't let go of her when they hug for the last time, refusing to let go of the most stable thing in his life. When he lost a mother Katelyn stepped in as the best older sister he could ask for and he's not ready to lose that again. It's a moment that tests Katelyn's loyalties further than anything Zane tried to do directly. She has to push her brother off, tell him that she has to go, and that if he ever sees her again, he's not allowed to talk to her or tell people they're related. She has to do that.

Needless to say, Katelyn wasn't doing great afterwards. Neither was the poor father she had spoken to, and once more they meet each other near the edge of the garden and talk through their awful days, this time with some drinks or even a pipe. It's the one respite that Katelyn gets, the one place she can be herself and not put up a front.

When Jury work is awful, she can fall back on him. When one or both of them is pushed to do something outside of their moral compass for Zane, they confide in one another and assure each other that they aren't the monsters Zane wants them to be. And while it started slow, these little meet-ups are when they start making plans to get the hell out of dodge and get their families to safety. It takes a while to work out all the flaws in their plans, and they need a lot of that time to get into Zane's good graces again. Get him to trust them enough that they can take advantage of it.

Finally there's a window of hope. Katelyn just needs to finish this one job, and then Zane puts a plan into effect he won't need either of them for. He'll go off to negotiate with Scaleswind on his own, leaving them enough time to get out of O'Khasis and save their families. One minor hiccup occurs when Katelyn gets sick the day before she's supposed to go on her job. While she insists she can handle it, that doesn't really slide. He's going to take her job whether she likes it or not.

Katelyn never forgave herself for falling in love with him. She never forgave herself for "making" him fall in love with her. She never forgave herself for being too cowardly to admit this love. She never forgave herself for killing her best friend.

So she did the best thing she could. She tried to avenge him. When she hears the news that he failed her assignment and is on trial as a traitor, she realizes that their plans are falling to pieces and they have to act fast. Katelyn realizes that... They can't save their families. If he dies now for his transgressions then they'll never have a chance to get them out. Zane will tighten his chokehold on that which they love most.

She has to save herself. And maybe save him. Or at least find out what he was saving. Katelyn reads the official report and any testimonial she's able to get her hands on. They aren't allowed to see each other, obviously, but she's pouring over any detail she can get. And it all comes back to one name. Aphmau.

This strange woman Zane keeps mentioning, this paradoxical lord who keeps sticking her nose where it doesn't belong. Her name is never in any of his testimonies, but Zane fills in the blanks of the story with her name. He knows. And Katelyn honestly believes him. From what she's heard it would make total sense for Aphmau to be the reason for the apparent "slip in judgement". From everything Katelyn heard... She sounded a lot like his late wife.

Katelyn has to know more. And that leads her to Phoenix Drop under some guise of "investigation" as if it was possible he didn't do the right thing for once. And we know the story from there... Meaning there's one more--

Jeffory The Golden Heart

GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS THIS IS MY FAVORITE MCD CHARACTER YOU DON'T EVEN UNDERSTAND

There's one important thing to know about Jeffory. Out of everyone in the Jury who had the potential to even think about backstabbing Zane, Jeffory was the one who the would-be ruler of Ru'aun was most scared of. Not because Jeffory was the strongest, or because he had a greater threat to his collateral, or even because he had the strongest grudge against Zane. Because Jeffory came to Zane with a title.

In canon MCD we're told that Jeffory's name comes from his Golden Glaive, but let's be real, we know why he was called that. Because Jeffory is golden hearted in and out. He's so kind it hurts, he's so god damn nice it's fucking annoying, this man is infuriatingly patient and compassionate. Jeffory had the name Golden Heart attached to him from childhood, first a compliment he was given when he saved an injured bird and fixed its wing. The golden songbird sang along with him, and his mother remarked that Jeffory's heart was as gold as it's feathers.

As Jeffory grew up his kindhearted nature never changed, only improved. He learned to become a guard because he wanted to protect those who could not protect themselves. He was trained by a local blacksmith and one of the guards who sparred with him sometimes, but he was largely self taught. His mother was a baker and his father was a tailor, they had no idea how to train a guard.

But Jeffory was determined. He felt a sense of obligation, not to anyone else, but to himself. To this inherently kind heart he was apparently born with. Jeffory knows he can be a great warrior, and he knows there are lives he'll be able to save if he's given the chance. Eventually he felt good enough to go to the Academy.

All and all, Jeffory had a very basic academy experience. He didn't stand out from the crowd too much, but there's no shame in being in the middle of the pack. He gained some flack and some respect for his unending chivalry on the battlefield, often being the best sport after a match which did piss some people off, but he never let it get to him.

The other reason Jeffory was called Golden Heart was because after enough people attributed it to him, his father brought it to reality. Any piece of clothing made by Jeffory's father had a small golden heart embroidered in. Sometimes it was over his chest, where his real heart would be, other times it was sewn in where nobody could see it, and even made him one coat where the buttons were all small golden hearts. It was in the Academy that this became a pattern people outside of the small village he grew up in picked up on. People called him Golden Heart like it was a call sign, and he often responded to it.

It wasn't lost on Academy staff how much it sounded like a Jury members title, but there wasn't anything they could do about it. Jeffory didn't even qualify for the Jury list, there really wasn't any worry. He finished his time and got assigned to work in O'Khasis. While he would dearly miss his parents, Jeffory was more than excited to explore Ru'aun more and work somewhere new.

Two weeks into his job in O'Khasis and Jeffory met the most beautiful woman he had seen in his life working the graveyard shift in the shadiest tavern known to man. This shitty bar does not deserve to have the goddess that is Grace working it, none of the patrons treat her well, and most of them are blackout drunk anyways. Jeffory stops in to get a drink before changing shifts, and while he greatly resents the bar that treated her so poorly, he's so glad he went into that bar that night.

Grace is more than delighted to have a patron who's not only sober when they come in, but comes in with a smile and likes talking to her instead of ordering her around. Even if it's only 15 minutes, she is properly flattered by Jeffory's natural charm and well meaning nature. He tips her well, and even tells her where he'll be patrolling if she ever needs help with anything. He doesn't expect anything to come of this, but he's still hopeful that something will.

And boy howdy does it. A few weeks later Grace finds Jeffory on his shift and brings him a little care basket with some booze she snuck out of the bar, some bread she baked, and assorted fruits and snacks she could fill it with. He's almost always patrolling the area around her bar and since he showed up the amount of issues she's had have gone down significantly. Whatever he's doing to keep the streets clean is working and she wants to show that appreciation.

This very quickly turns into Jeffory taking her on a picnic date at the top of one of the watch towers where they can watch the sunset together. Because of course it does. And both of them agree that they want this to be the first of a potential many dates with one another. Needless to say dates of this manner continue for some time, and eventually the two fall fully and foolishly in love.

This pushes Jeffory to decide to fully move away from his childhood home and into O'Khasis with Grace. From there the two only become more infatuated with one another, like I cannot enforce how much these two adore each other. Jeffory was ready to propose to her on the second date and he's amazed that they made it to three years of being together without him cracking.

The straw that made him break was actually rather simple. It all took place in one conversation he had with Grace when she came home from a visit to the local cleric.

"What's the news?"

"...I'm pregnant."

"Will you marry me?"

And like that, Jeffory was living the life of his dreams. Jeffory has always been a very family oriented person, always trying to make his parents proud, valuing them and the collective family of his village, and he always had dreams of finding The One and settling down, and now he had that. He and Grace married shortly after he proposed, so she could wear a more traditional wedding dress with minimal modification.

The following months with Grace were the happiest times in Jeffory's life with very little competition. He loves taking care of his wife, he loves spoiling her, and he loves spending time with her. One minor problem. They're kind of broke. Their incomes were enough for them to live low cost together, but they don't make enough to account for all the expenses of a baby.

So when Grace is 5 months pregnant, Jeffory reapplies to the Academy with the express purpose of being made a member of the Jury of Nine. The training should take three months, meaning he'll be back in time for his child to be born. And this time he's taken advice given to him on a whim by a fellow member of the Jury. He had one chance encounter with Ivy on a patrol, and she gave him an odd piece of unsolicited advice.

"Word to the wise, you've got skill, but it's wasted on a sword. Try to broaden your horizons."

With this in mind Jeffory goes in and trains in using polearms, a spear, and eventually he finds a real fancy for a glaive, It's a weapon that's hard to use in training situations against other cadets, but when Jeffory shows what he can do with the weapon against the training dummies, it's impressive. He always wants to protect as many people as possible, a far reaching weapon is effective at this goal and gets attention. Zane wanted the Jury to be an assortment of fighters with a variety of skills, able to take on different jobs and cover up each others weak points.

Jeffory was the only part of this crop of cadets that ever really caught Zane's attention. There's just one issue he can't let go of. When he see's Jeffory's name on the list, next to it is written "Golden Heart." One of the academy directors explains the origin of his nickname, and how fitting it would be if he were a member of the Jury. Zane despises the idea of Jeffory having a title given to him by anyone else, but the seat is empty and he needs to fill it.

So he approaches Jeffory. Jeffory is as friendly to Zane as he is to anyone else, and only kind of sucks up to him the entire conversation. His natural charm doesn't work on a pessimistic Zane, but he can't argue with the numbers. Jeffory was the best member of this crop of candiates, even if he'd failed before. He'd be a fool not to offer it, and Jeffory would be a fool not to take the offer.

It's the day after Jeffory has agreed to join the Jury that he gets the news. As he's packing his belongings and getting ready for the journey back to O'Khasis, he gets a rather frantically delivered letter, sealed and signed by the cleric Grace had spoken to before. There isn't anything that can prepare Jeffory for the contents of that letter.

He has a beautiful, healthy, breathing daughter. In the process he lost his beautiful, snarky, fantastic wife. He's lost everything and gained everything as well. And he wasn't there for any of it. His daughter breathed her first breath and his wife breather her last and he wasn't there. Nothing else matters.

Jeffory doesn't say goodbye to any potential friend or would be pupil, he doesn't even look Zane in the eye as he passes. He just leaves, goes home to O'Khasis, unable to really speak to anyone. It's the first time in his life he's been this quiet for this long. The entire ride home is just... Quiet. He thinks of Grace in the silence, of her voice, her songs, the music she taught Jeffory, her laughter, her sobbing, any sound she could make that he ever took for granted bombards Jeffory's mind in the silence.

When he reaches home something else fills it. The sound of someone new. Her crying, her screaming, her laughing, her babbling, suddenly there's a new and beautiful life in Jeffory's arms and he's never felt happier in his life. From the moment he laid eyes on her Abby is the greatest treasure of his entire life. Jeffory's daughter is everything to him.

There's a bitter sweet grace period. A time where Jeffory has to start going through all of Grace's things, figuring out what to keep for himself, what to keep for Abby, and what to send back home to her parents. A time where he can adjust to being a father and the challenges of raising a newborn he is not even close to fit to raise. It doesn't last for very long, but Jeffory remembers it as the last time he ever felt peaceful.

Then Zane comes home. And with him comes Jeffory's previously unaddressed Jury summon. There's not any doubt in his mind that he wants to take this job to provide for Abby, but he actually initiates negotiations with Zane to ensure that he'll have time to care for her, and someone equipped to care for her if he isn't present. Zane showed up at his home ready to intimidate and possibly threaten the life of this child and Jeffory's suddenly trying to get proper sick leave and setting up Bring Your Daughter To Work days.

Once again Jeffory displays something that Zane is less than fond of. Jeffory's forward way of thinking, the way that he sees the world in spite of the way that it is and then takes the world into his own hands to get it if he has to... It's unsettling to someone trying to maintain power and control for his own ends. Suddenly Jeffory's a liability but Zane can't get rid of him. He needs Jeffory, needs one of the many empty seats his father left him to be filled, needs someone with his skills and charisma on his side, but he can never trust Jeffory the Golden Heart.

Zane begrudgingly agrees to Jeffory's request, arranging for him and Abby to stay in a smaller homestead near the Ro'Meave Estate, and Zane will make arrangements for Abby to have a caretaker that will care for Abby when he's away. (Don't ask me for details about the caretaker cause then they'll just turn into an OC mid post). Once they're moved, Jeffory does as he agreed.

He serves Zane Ro'Meave. Why wouldn't he? Sure, Zane's a little off-putting, but he's still learning to rule, still learning how to do things. Jeffory sees Zane for the child wearing adults clothing that he is and forgives any perceived shortcomings because of this. He can tell Zane is calculated, but he hasn't wrapped his head around just how calculated Zane is, how many steps ahead he's thinking, and how far he's willing to go for his own ends.

There's just. One problem. Jeffory was the first and Katelyn was the second member of the Jury to come in with previous attachments. Before Zane mostly found people with no attachments, or who were already attached to him and his family. Jeffory was his first taste, and it was not a good one. Jeffory's sincere nature meant Zane couldn't ask him to do messier jobs that he would be best suited for because well, if anyone would tell him "I'm not gonna do that" it would be Jeffory.

And if Jeffory gets away with doing that, if he gets treated differently just because he has the audacity to call Zane cruel, then he won't be the last. Zane cannot let this become a problem. And Zane is rather efficient at killing two birds with one stone. The day after Katelyn and Jeffory first became acquainted, Zane tells Jeffory the unfortunate truth. He needs Jeffory to do a... Less than ideal job.

Kill the last of a resistance group fighting against O'Khasis' forced annexation of their village. Ivy has done a good job of cutting down their numbers, but Zane wants Jeffory to lure them into false peace talks so they lower their guard, and she can do the finishing blow. Jeffory, obviously, says there's no way he's doing that. He'll kill to protect himself or others, but this resistance group hasn't hurt anyone other than Ivy, who has been actively killing them and their friends.

That's when Zane shows how far he's willing to go. Normally Zane speaks in a more... Vaguely threatening manner. He doesn't like to say things outright if he can avoid it, plausible deniability is a powerful tool. When it comes to someone like Jeffory, he knows he can't mince words.

"Kill this resistance, or I kill your daughter. It's that simple."

Zane only has to make this threat once. He never has to say those words again because once was enough to burn into Jeffory's memories. Zane said it with such confidence, such conviction, there's no way it was an empty threat. It puts Jeffory in a... Really bad position. His immediate temptation is to run to Abby, but he doesn't know if he can face her right now. He doesn't know if he can even face himself, come to terms with the innocent lives he is considering taking just to keep her alive.

Jeffory takes a rather aimless walk through the Estate, mostly mulling over Zane's threat and his predicament, and coming to no conclusion on it. Until he's in the garden. He hears the muffled sobbing of a woman in distress, and finds Katelyn the Firefist, curled up and crying against the vine covered pillar. No doubt suffering from a similar family related dilemma thanks to their shared employer.

Jeffory didn't know Katelyn at all. This was the second time he'd seen her, and she made it clear to him that her vulnerability was a rareness he should consider himself lucky to have survived seeing. But her vulnerability is the only reason either one of them open up to the other about their struggles. What started as a hushed conversation trying to relieve some stress turned into them being trusted confidants that either one could go to.

Zane attempted to cut them off from sentimentality, from sincerity, from the things that make them human so they'd be willing to do anything for him. He inadvertently caused his own destruction through this, bringing together two people who could have had a barely passable coworker friendship and instead making them the only people who they can trust. As always Zane's attempt to keep people down only makes them all the better at fighting him.

Jeffory isn't proud of the man he becomes. But every day that he returns home to Abby it doesn't matter. Every night he gets to spend with her by the fire makes all of the blood shed worth it. Zane is careful to space out when he gives Jeffory less than pretty jobs, so they don't happen often. Yet they still haunt him as he's cooking breakfast for her. He just has to remind himself that it's all for her. One day he and Katelyn are going to get out of this together, they're going to get her family, get Abby, and run away together.

When he puts it like that it almost sounds romantic. And the romanticism of the situation is not lost on him, he's been flirting with Katelyn since the first time they talked. He considers bringing up the elephant in the room, but never follows through, mostly because he struggles to tell if it's reciprocated. Katelyn is frustratingly good at hiding her emotions, even if Jeffory is equally good at tearing down her mental walls.

There was one time he almost said the quiet part out loud by accident. When Katelyn met Abby. Abby was about 3 years old at this point, and Katelyn came to Jeffory's house planning on just picking up something for Zane. But the caretaker is gone and she opens the door to find Jeffory sitting at the table teaching his daughter to read. He doesn't shoo her away, he invites her in and introduces the two to each other.

The rest of the day is a delight as Katelyn teaches Abby anything she can ask a question about, plays with her the entire day, and acts like the mother Abby truly needed. Seeing Katelyn interacting with Abby makes Jeffory want to confess his love to her. He doesn't, but Irene help him he desperately wants to. But he can't. Saying that would be putting another target in both of their backs, and it would just complicate things more. Get out of hell first, then fall in love once you're out of the fire.

And just before they're ready to make a break for it, Katelyn falls ill. Jeffory keeps her housed in his room and has Abby's caretaker look after her while he handles her job. Katelyn insists that it's fine, not because she can do this sick, but because she doesn't trust Jeffory to do this and she makes that clear to him. But she's too weak to even get up and stop him from taking this job. He promises to return home to her soon.

He never does.

#wow that was a lot #fuck me I have to tag this #aphblr #minecraft diaries #text post #ivy the venom scythe #katelyn the firefist #mcd katelyn #jeffory the golden heart #character analysis #jury of redesign #zane romeave #hes mentioned a bunch it feels fitting to tag him #jury of nine

[run-me-through-but-not-like-that]

I love the Izzy stories! Your writing is really good. Could you do something with the huddling for warmth trope? Maybe throw in some enemies to lovers to it? Thank you xxx

Just for Warmth:

The Revenge had been docked at an unfamiliar port when you and Izzy had been ambushed, escorted away from the grimy streets to a ship docked around the side of the island. Out of sight of the main port, out of sight from the Revenge.

Izzy was a skilled fighter and you weren't half-bad yourself, but there had been too many of them. And the two of you had already taken a couple of blows before handing over your swords.

Along with your swords, your captors had taken all of your weapons and most of your clothing. The two of you were left in your breeches and shirts, even your boots having been taken away from you.

It was dim and fairly cold in the brig, at least compared to the rest of the ship. It had been a few days, so it was possible that they had drifted into cooler waters, you supposed, or maybe it was just because you had entered the cold months. Whatever the reason, it was unreasonably cold in the brig considering you had been sailing in the fucking Caribbean.

Though, there were a few things that you could say for certain.

Somebody had caught you and Izzy Hands unaware, holding you over Blackbeard's head in the hope for payment.

It was damn cold in the brig.

You and Izzy were blaming each other for it.

The cell the two of you had been tossed into wasn't much, there only being one shelf bed. You doubted the crew that were holding you were very concerned about your comfort.

The 'bed' wasn't much comfier than the floor but at least it was a couple of feet above the ground, some sense of comfort coming with that. Thankfully, you hadn't seen any rats yet. Despite the bed not being more better than the ground, the two of you had agreed to take turns sleeping on it, more out of stubbornness than anything.

Izzy, much to your annoyance, had just finished another screaming match with the man responsible for brining you both food.

"Shut the fuck up, Izzy. They're already giving us their leftovers, we don't need them pissing in it too," you chastised through gritted teeth. Of all the people you had to be trapped in a cell with, of course it was Blackbeard's bossy and miserable first mate.

"Right, so we'll sit around and wait for them to just fucking escort us out," Izzy retorted, pulling the food apart to make sure everything in the leftover meal was indeed edible.

"Yes, and shouting obscenities is a proven method, obviously," you rolled your eyes.

Miraculously, the two of you had managed to stop bickering long enough to eat dinner together in an uncompanionable silence.

It was your turn to sleep on the shelf bed tonight, which also meant that you got the near-empty pillow and the thin blanket. Still, it was a cold night, colder than it had been since being taken captive as the weather turned bad outside.

You shivered, curling up into a ball as you pulled the blanket closer to your body. Though, it made no difference. The sink rocked and you suddenly remembered that you weren't alone.

Turning around to face into the dim cell, you searched for your cellmate. Izzy was curled up similarly to you, his arms wrapped around himself in weak attempt of keeping in warmth.

You didn't particularly like the man, he had been a pain in the ass since he showed up on the Revenge, but you didn't want him to die. Nor did you want him to become sick while you shared a cell with him. More importantly, you didn't want to become sick.

"Izzy?" you quietly called out but received no response. "Izzy?" you repeated. Same response, nothing. Though you saw him curl in more on himself, he was obviously awake. "Izzy, you stubborn bastard, I know you're not sleeping," you seethed, frustrated with his silence. "I know you're tits are freezing off too," that, at least, got a reaction from him.

"My fucking-are you serious?" Izzy sat up abruptly, glaring at you.

"Look, it's fucking freezing down here, yeah? We have one blanket and it doesn't do shit...we both know the best way to stay warm," you reminded him of your situation, knowing you didn't need to spell it out for him.

"If you're fucking coming on to me, you've been talking to Spriggs too much," Izzy muttered, laying down uncomfortably on his back.

"Bloody Hell, Izzy, no. I don't want that anymore than you do," you scoffed. "I just mean sharing the damn bed. If we don't huddle for warmth, we're going to get too cold and we don't even have all of our clothes to protect us," but you were sure that he already knew that.

"Fuck off," he spat.

"You know I'm right, you just don't want to admit it," you rolled your eyes at his stubbornness.

"Fuck. Off."

You watched as Izzy curled back up with his back to you, letting you know that this discussion was over. Still, you could see him shivering, even if he was tensing to try to hide it.

As time passed, the brig only got colder. You were shivering despite your thin blanket, so you were certain Izzy wasn't vibrating with chill purely out of stubbornness.

Grumbling to yourself, you slipped off of the shelf bed. It wasn't really a loss, being just as hard as the floor, just a little higher up. Without a word, you placed the useless pillow down beside Izzy's head and lay beside him.

By that point, Izzy had already turned to face you and was questioning you with a scowl. However, you just draped the thin blanker over the two of you, head hitting the pillow.

"What the fuck-" before he could get the full snarl out, you had grabbed him by his collar and pulled him down to you until his face was only inches away from your own. Managing to catch him off guard and shutting him up for long enough to speak.

"For once, Izzy, just shut up. This is what we're doing now if you want to actually survive long enough for the crew to find us," you told him sternly.

"I'll take my chances," Izzy huffed.

"Well, I won't," you weren't going to risk your wellbeing because he wanted to be difficult. "Just turn around, I'll do all the work," you smirk

Izzy, as he so often did, snarled and hissed, but he still turned around to put his back to you. You rolled your eyes at him once more before shifting closer, stiffly moulding yourself to his back and wrapping an arm around his waist.

It wasn't too much later that you both started to feel a little warmer. And finally, you were comfortable enough to fall asleep.

At some point during the night, Izzy shifted and turned, his arms folding around you and increasing the warmth you felt. The unfamiliar and hostile environment had you on edge, had you waking easier than you would have back on the Revenge.

"I won't tell the crew that Izzy Hands is a cuddler, promise," you mumbled, barely even awake.

"I'll cut your fucking tongue out," Izzy mumbled right back, but you knew his threat was genuine.

"Exactly why I won't tell them," you hummed, drifting off to sleep once again.

-

The following night, Izzy was being just as stubborn, curled up on his own on the shelf bed.

"Izzy, we've been through this and it might actually be colder tonight than he was last night," you groaned, standing above the bed, glaring down at him.

"This is fucking stupid," he complained into the pillow.

"Oh, I agree. But for a man with such a cold little heart, you're weirdly warm," you smiled sarcastically, he side eyed you.

"Fuck off."

"Just let me on the bed before we freeze to death," you huffed, kneeing him in the back. He just huffed at your pestering. "Fuck it, I'm coming anyway," you threw up your hands in frustration before climbing onto the bed.

Izzy muttered something under his breath, low enough that you didn't hear the actual words, but didn't fight much as you huddled up to him. The warmth emitting from each other was comforting, and he couldn't find it within himself to push you onto the floor. It was only practical, after all.

You shared the bed instead of the floor that night.

-

Two more nights pasted.

On the third, you had woken up with Izzy's face buried in your neck, the two of you clinging to each other to ward off the chill.

On the forth night, neither of you bickered at all, just huddled together under the too-thin blanket, whispered polite goodnights and fell asleep.

On the fifth night, it was silent in the brig and you had huddled up but sleep didn't come to you easily. You had slipped a hand under Izzy's shirt to lay between his shoulder blades, he hadn't complained, he only did the same against your back. It was just keeping your hands warm.

"They're going to come for us, right?" you asked, question barely audible even in the silent room.

"Of course Edward will come," Izzy answered, almost defensively, "you're not giving up are you?"

"Of course not," you sighed. The crew were your family, you knew they would come for you...of course you did..."Just...if they aren't coming, we'll have to get ourselves out of here," you pointed out.

"They'll come for us. We shouldn't have to wait too much longer now, the crew want their ransom after all," Izzy reasoned. It made sense, the ship you were being held on shouldn't be trying to outrun the Revenge too much if they wanted their pay. You just nodded. "Still, if we could...give ourselves a bit of a head start. How do you plan to escape?" he asked.

"Haven't really thought that far...think we've tried everything," you admitted your defeat.

"Yeah..." Izzy sighed, insisting, "they'll come, Edward always does."

"You been kidnapped and held hostage before?" you asked. His fingers dug into your back for a moment before relaxing again, you didn't comment on it.

"It comes with the job. Bastards expect a lot of coin for Blackbeard, but are never ready for the bloodshed that comes instead," he shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal.

"Well, I'm feeling hopeful," it might not have been very honest, but you didn't want to bring the mood down any further.

To hide the unconvinced expression on your face, you tucked your head under Izzy's chin. He didn't comment on it, only tightened his hold on you.

Soon enough, you fell asleep.

Izzy lets out a breath when he felt your own steady out. They'd come, he knew they would. He finally managed to fall asleep with you.

-

The next morning you were both awoken to the sound of the heavy barred door of the cell opening. Before the two of you could react, Izzy was dragged from the bed, kicking and shouting and cursing as he was dragged out of the brig.

You had rushed to the bars, clutching at them as if you might actually be able to phase through them, calling for the guard to let him go, asking where they were taking him. Before you knew it, he was dragged out of the sight and the door to the brig was closed.

You spent the whole morning pacing the cell, wondering where Izzy was and what was happening to him. Had Blackbeard come for his first mate, they wouldn't pay Izzy's ransom and not yours, would they? No, surely not.

Surely, your captors were trying to scare you, trying to mess with you.

When Izzy was dragged back down to the brig, he had been roughed up. It didn't look like anything too serious, nothing fatal or permanent.

You remained silent, not wanting to cause more trouble, as the guard threw Izzy into the cell. The door was slammed shut and the guard spat on the ground before he marched out of the brig again, leaving you both alone.

"Shit, Izzy, are you okay?" you were at his side in an instant, already taking his face in your hands and examining him.

"Fuck off," Izzy snapped, batting your hands away, "I've had worse."

"Shut up, you're bleeding," you huffed, fighting against his hands to turn his face to the side again, noting the bruise against his jaw.

"Nothing's broken, nothing needs stitches," Izzy told you, as if that meant that nothing needed taking care of. He wasn't going to die, so he was fine.

"Stubborn bastard," you muttered, wiping blood away from his mouth with the sleeve of your shirt. "What did they want?" you asked.

"Questions about Blackbeard. They're getting antsy, don't like this waiting around. Asking what to expect when the crew shows up," he told you, his fight waning.

"What did you tell them?"

"Fucking nothing, obviously," Izzy snarled slightly, offended that you would even think he would spill anything. "And if they do the same to you, you don't speak a fucking word either," his threat was loud and clear.

"Doubt I'd have anything useful to tell them anyway," you shrugged.

"They don't know that, they'll think you're lying," Izzy reminded you.

"Right, yeah..." you sighed, you probably had this treatment to look forward to either later on today or tomorrow. "Definitely no lasting damage?" you asked, just to make sure.

Izzy was about to snarl again, until he saw the genuine concern on your face. "I'm sure," he nodded.

That night, you frowned as Izzy climbed onto the shelf bed with you, hissing as his bruised ached. "Anything I can do to help?" you asked quietly, even if you had no idea what you could do to help given your current predicament.

"I'm fine," he assured you with a huff.

"Okay..."

Izzy shifted, making sure not to put too much pressure on his bruises. He just looked so uncomfortable, and you caught the grimace on his face.

"C'mere, Iz," you whispered, laying on your back and guiding him with you.

Izzy groaned and muttered his complaints but he let you pillow his head against your chest, deflating and settling down as you stroked his hair, lulling him to sleep.

Izzy had felt the way he moulded into you. He had never had somebody who soothed him like this after a beating or an interrogation. Sure, whenever Edward came for him, he made sure his wounds were tended too, but he didn't comfort him like this, didn't try to soothe him.

-

The next evening rolled around, the hours dragging on, and nobody had come to question you.

"They haven't interrogated me...what do you think that means?" you asked, anxiety bubbling in your chest. You hadn't been held for ransom before, you might as well turn to the apparent expert.

"Probably just that they listened," Izzy shrugged, rolling his neck as he lent against the cell wall.

"What do you mean?" you frowned slightly, not understanding.

"Yesterday, when they were asking me questions, I told them you were just a deckhand. Your main job was to swab the decks, you had only been with me because I needed an extra pair of hands on a task. Told them you're not important, you're nobody. Looks like they believed me," Izzy explained, like it was nothing.

It was true that you had no information that could benefit your captors in anyway, not that you could see anyway, but you were more than a deck-swabber and you both knew it.

"...thanks, Izzy," you smiled slightly, wanting to show him your gratitude.

"Didn't fucking do it for you, just didn't want you running your mouth," Izzy scoffed, his glare lacking his usual malice.

"Either way, thanks," whatever his reasoning had been, he had protected you in some sense.

"Can we just go to fucking bed?" Izzy asked with a tired sigh. Tired from nights on a hard surface and lack of food.

"Yeah," you chuckled quietly, "yeah, of course we can, Iz."

As you did each night for the last week or so, the two of you cuddled up under the useless blanket without an argument.

The brig was silent, as it usually was, and eerie. You needed to break it, to put some good thoughts out there into the emptiness.

"They're going to come, I bet we'll only have to wait like...two more days, at most. We're going to get out of here," you weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.

"I know," Izzy responded, voice slightly muffled by your hair.

"Just...making sure you didn't forget," you excused, and he just nodded.

Staring out into the otherwise empty cell, you swallowed the lump in your throat. Lightly, giving yourself away to brush it off, a way for Izzy to ignore it, you kissed his forehead. Izzy gave a full-body huff but still shifted closer to you.

The two of you woke to the sound of canon fire, both of you on your feet in an instant. Staring up at the ceiling, trying to get an idea of what was going on. Above your heads were frantic footsteps, the clanging of metal, and gunshots.

The Revenge was here.

Your heads snapped to the sound of the brig door being swung open. Thankfully, it was Edward and Stede who stormed it, swords at the ready.

"Edward, get us the fuck out of here!" Izzy demanded, already standing in front of the cell door.

Stede grinned at the sight of you both, proudly waving a set of keys around, before unlocking the cell.

Both you and Izzy were glad to be on the other side of those bars, you were even more thrilled at the sight of your belongings. The two of you were quick to pull on your boots and outer layers, listening to the captains tell the story of how they chased down and raided the very ship you were on.

"Dealt with most of the crew, just get yourselves back to the Revenge, yeah?" Edward ordered, handing you both your swords. "Good to see you're alright, mate," he clasped Izzy's shoulder, giving him a grin.

Izzy gave him a nod before nodding to you, signalling for you both to rush out from the brig.

You joined the crew in the fight, Izzy keeping a shoulder to yours as you stormed across the deck. While the two of you would have been happy to cut down the men who had laid hands on you, orders were orders.

So, as ordered, the both of you left the crew to deal with your captors and returned to the Revenge. The rest of the crew soon followed, the smell of smoke and burning wood growing stronger.

Once the offending ship was dealt with and had experienced what it was like to be on the receiving end of Blackbeard's rage, you were welcomed back aboard the Revenge.

Some of the crew fussed over you, asked about your time being held hostage, mostly just making sure you were alright. Izzy's injured were properly seen too by Roach, which put your mind at ease, before you were both provided with a proper meal.

That night, you were laying awake in the bunks while everyone else slept. It felt like home, the sound of the crew sleeping, the warmth of shared quarters. You had proper pillows and blankets and hammocks. And yet, something just felt wrong. A weight against your chest that had become familiar, the shift of a chest beneath your head.

After tossing and turning for a little while longer, you quietly climbed out of your bunk and padded out of the room on bare feet. Making sure to leave as quietly as you could, you didn't want to wake anyone.

The passage ways were dark but you had learnt your way around the ship fairly well, so it wasn't much of a challenge to make your way to Izzy's cabin.

You thought about knocking but you didn't want to cause a scene or attract any attention. So, you gently rapped your knuckles against the wood before letting yourself in, a little surprised that it was unlocked but not wanting to linger in the passageway.

"What the fuck?" Izzy shot up on his cot, a knife in hand. You bet he slept with one under his pillow.

You opened your mouth by anything you had planned to say was seemingly swallowed by the waves, leaving you at a loss.

"You...I was...it's kinda cold, don't you think?" you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Izzy watched you for a moment, trying to figure out your motives. He slowly placed his knife down beside his cot, not taking his eyes off of you. Whatever he found during his assessment must have been positive, because he seemed to relax a little.

"...kinda chilly, I guess. For the Caribbean anyway," Izzy agreed with a small nod, still not taking his eyes away from you.

"So...maybe we should...for warmth," you suggested, gesturing vaguely towards the cot he sat on.

"Yeah, sure, I guess," Izzy allowed.

With a small smile, you approached him. He shifted over on the cot, letting you join him.

The cot definitely wasn't made for two but it was a little wider than the shelf bed in the brig and a whole lot comfier. It actually had a mattress for a start, a stuffed pillow and a thicker blanket. Certainly an upgrade.

Neither of you said a word, just let yourselves fall together. Limbs intertwined and bodied pressed against each other. Sharing warmth even if it was no longer so cold.

"Night, Iz," you whispered into his neck, smiling to yourself when his arms tightened around you.

"Night..."

#israel hands x reader #izzy hands x reader #izzy hands #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd izzy #ofmd x reader

[historia-vitae-magistras]

Character Profile - Scotland

Character Name: Scotland. The Kingdom of Scotland. Alba. Alasdair Kirkpatrick. Alexander Kirkland. Alexander Kirk. Alasdair Kirkwood. Alasdair Kirkland. Uncle Alasdair.

Age: 10-12 upon the Roman invasion of the 1st century. 18-20 by 1300. Late 30s, early 40s modern day..

Height: 6'0/182cm.

Physical Description: Tall and musclebound, Alasdair was a warrior and his body still shows it. Broad-shouldered and strong-jawed, the transition from fighter to the financial brain of the British empire matches a large man with surprising grace and dexterity. He carries himself equally well in a boardroom as on a battlefield. The most classically handsome of his brothers but the least agriculturally valuable, he was locked in a triangle with his youngest brother and Francis for centuries, riding on his good looks for much of it. He also contributed much to his brother's children and added enough, especially to Canada. He made the lad damn near a strawberry blonde. He's getting a bit softer in middle age but still easily caber tosses the entire family on a human's strength if permitted. He's got a bit of a grumpy look to him sometimes, but he's also extremely tender-hearted if brusque with those he shares affection with, and those people know what his body language conveys, if subtly.

Eye colour: Blue-green-grey. A bit muddled and changeful like the churning clouds and waters of the highlands.

Hair colour/style: Red-brown curls. The shade of brown you can't tell is red or brown even in bright light. He wears it just long enough to show off the curl too it and often with a matching beard. Arthur is the one more often at sea, but Alasdair often looks like the quintessential seacaptain.

Other distinguishing physical traits: The family brows. Has a smattering of old war wounds that especially act up when he and Arthur are arguing. He and Brighid are also the source of the family dimples but Alasdair has to be positively grinning for them to show.

Personal Appearance/Style: A lot of sweaters, boots and trousers. When he put down the broad sword and picked up the abacus, he became quite interested in finer things and figured if he was stuck in this union with Arthur and Rhys, he might as well get something out of it. He's generally found in quite dull greens, browns and countrymen clothes these days but was once very fond of French fashion. He only wears a kilt on special occasions. Instead of having his own clan tartan or even wearing the national one, he most often wears a woad-blue and white plaid he remembers his mother having a cloak of.

Verbal Style: He can switch between various Scottish accents fairly well, lowland and highland alike. It gets thicker when he's speaking to Arthur to piss him off and when he speaks French because it makes Francis practically swoon. His Latin isn't a good as Brighid's in the modern day, but he's still pretty good with it; he learned languages as needed, especially as the sciences grew through history. Whatever the language of education is, he'll be fluent quickly. An interest in chemistry brought him to modernize his German; he's always loved reading in French.

Level of Education: This is almost impossible to quantify. He was the first country in the world to make education mandatory in the 15th century. He was meant from birth to be a warrior and he was very good at it with there hardly being anyone mortal who could challenge him sword to sword by the time he was as tall as the sword itself, but he was always in his heart more of a druid and a scholar. He's gotten so many degrees and learned so much over his life span its a little insane. And barring Alfred, he was largely in charge of educating Arthur's children. He's an absolute powerhouse at the sciences and maths but loves a good poem too. Physics, chemistry and pharmacy are his specialties and an incredible knowledge of medicine is still building in his head. He's also, of the British isle siblings, the best with money. Arthur is no slouch either but its Alasdair's running of the family money that they scrambled themselves out of poverty several times over before ever having any real international power. Once that started up, he was the real brains behind the money-making.

Occupation: Diplomat, surgeon, financial something or another.

Past Occupations: Doctor, surgeon, cattle raider, financial planner, merchant, trader, fur trapper, teacher, writer, artist, professor, soldier, crofter, farmer, fisherman, sea captain, shipwright, engineer, weaver, banker, etc.

Skills, Abilities or Talents: He's got the brawn to match his brains and is an incredible hand-to-hand fighter. He's a mental math whizz and has memorized almost everything written in Gaelic in the last 100 years. He knows practically all the major scientific disciplines back to front and their experiments and research patterns. He's probably more resistant to cold than Rhys or Arthur. Like all of his siblings,

Admirable Personality Traits: Innovative, resourceful, blunt, nurturing in a crabby sort of way, friendly, reliable, bold and practical.

Negative Personality Traits: Stubborn, impatient, grumpy, taciturn, reserved, slightly superstitious despite his incredible knowledge.

Sense of Humor: Dark, dry, direct, observational, sardonic, pawky.

Physical/Mental illness or affliction: He's probably the least mentally fucked of all his siblings, but that's not saying much. His liver is about as virgin as a dockside brothel. He's got a lot of old war wounds, but only a few bother him, and even then, he's not one to wallow.

Hobbies/Interests: Reading, engineering, hunting, hiking, caber toss, golf, building ill-advised machines with Alfred in the garage.

Favourite Foods: If its fried, he'll fucking love it. He might be the only person on earth who likes Alfred's food as much as Alfred's. He loves Cullen skink, cured meats and cheeses, kedgeree, cranachan, scotch pie or any meat pie, and he'll still pile on rowan jelly on porridge for breakfast. Whisky, of course.

Most important personal item: The torc and penannular brooch his mother gave him is in the national museum, and he has a kilt pin with a chunk of diamond Francis gave him in the 13th century.

Person/friend close to character: He's somehow close to his brothers, all things considered, but he's also on the best terms with Brighid, and they tend to talk more than Brighid does with the other two. He's very close to Arthur if only because they figured out they could control a lot more power and money if they worked together. An uneasy but extremely effective relationship there. And because the Americans will reblog and add a paragraph about how special Scotland is to America if I spent more than five words on Canada, Alasdair played an outsize role in raising Matt. but yes, he's very close to Alfred, who is fascinated with all things Scottish and has the same kind of brain Alasdair does. The Appalachian mountains used to have the same range as the highlands, and the way it was peopled rather shows it.

Brief family history: He was the second child and first son of Brigantia/Brittania in the pre-roman period. He's about 200-300 years younger than Brighid and maybe 400-500 years older than Rhys and Arthur. His relationship with his siblings is complicated but generally more positive than Brighid's. His brother's children are important in his life.

Most painful experiences in the character’s past: Probably the Jacobite uprisings and the rough wooing, and god, they're 2,000 years old. There's so much shit here. The civil wars? Elizabeth I hacking Mary Stuart's head off??? He's seen famine, plague, two world wars, and god knows what else.

Their Song: Julie Fowlis - Dh’èirich Mi Moch Madainn Cheòthar

#Character Sheets || bodies and flesh of borders and fences #Alasdair || my heart's in the highlands #hws scotland #If anyone wants to give me feedback about anything that feels wrong about the brit bros I would very #very much like to hear it #these fuckers are HARD #so much fricken history

[fruit-salad-ship]

Pirate au plum would SO be that captain to volenteer peach to play piano when someones musician is out. She'd do it to either show off that her brutish secod in command with the huge bounty and reputation is skilled at many things, that she keeps fine company, perhaps a little brag to her family who she eventually confronts. Plums perhaps got relatives who play well, but not as well as someone who's been doing it for 500 odd years. A nice moment to make them eat their words for once. Or maybe she'd do it just to spite peach when she's being extra stubborn and difficult, push the fact that shes got the power, what captain says, goes. She'll jump through the hoop, its her job.

Either way picturing the biggest human woman in the room, a woman covered in tattoos, who looks like shes not slept in years (shes not), who's sword is old, and clothes are a well worn, sitting down at a fancy old piano looking completly out of place with it, before hammering out an amazing tune after a moment to associate with the instrument. Peach loses herself in it, gets so into the song that everything else fades away. Meanwhile Plum and her associates are caught off guard as she seems so engaged, this isnt lounge music, this is a ballard, or something with some spice, some passion, and its showing. They were going to talk over it but can't bring themselves to do so.

By the time peach stops playing she's stood up, the chairs knocked back, she didnt realise she'd caught everyones attention, she was too busy walking down memory lane in the form of verses and notes. People suggest she's wasted as a pirate, the ocean is a shit place for someone to become known for music. She assures them, shes a better fighter than she is musician. A threat? completly. stood behind plum, looking at anyone who dares to test the theory. No one challenges her on it. This scruffy drunken menace steps on SO many toes.

Meanwhile Plums just sat there like 'damn! we need to get a piano on the ship!' she had no idea. guitar, violin, acordian, all things they had and peach could play happily, teach the crew in her down time, but a damn piano? Maybe she could steal one...

#pirate au #fruit salad #brainrot