#;; so sometimes i just worry its going to turn out the exact same

[o-sachi]

Nose Boops - Drabble for WinBre Week!

ᯓ something's suspicious about sakura... time to find out why ᯓ character; sakura haruka (wind breaker) ᯓ tags; fluff, tsundere sakura, afab reader, no y/n

[🐟]: for day 4 - accidental pet acquisition prompt! @windbreakerweek

Sakura's been acting strange.

Like reaaaaaally strange.

He was supposed to walk with you back home today, but somehow he suddenly has to patrol at that exact time. You knew his patrol schedule like the back of your own hand and you were certain that he didn't have to patrol. Besides, you knew Hiragi wasn't the type of guy to stray from fixed routines.

Anyway, you didn't like doubting him, so you asked Nirei. One text message and you confirmed that... Sakura was lying to you.

At first, you didn't know what to feel. Sakura was the most honest person that you knew and even if he did lie—he was way too obvious. But then again, it's always the person that you least expect to do you wrong.

Instead of walking straight back home later that day, you decided to investigate a bit. You checked out the usual streets that their team would roam around in. But nothing. You saw a couple of Furin boys, but none of them were familiar to you.

You even checked the cafe and asked Kotoha if he had been there. But still no luck. It was then you figured that maybe he was already at home. If he wasn't there either... well, that's definitely a cause for concern.

Part of you was incredibly nervous with what was waiting for you at his place, but all that worry dissipated in an instant at the sight that greeted you: Sakura walking the little puppy that you two found on the side of the street a week ago.

He had a small smile on his face, one that he reserved only for you (sometimes for his friends too, but he won't admit it). Sakura even bought the little thing a new collar and leash. You weren't exaggerating when you thought it was the most adorable thing ever.

Soon enough, he noticed your presence. His smile shifted into a flustered frown. "W-what are you doing here?" he asks, pointing at you.

You walk over to them, a toothy grin on your face. "Oh, I dunno... maybe I just wanted to see what my boyfriend was so busy with. But it's definitely not because of patrolling."

"Shaddap..."

He turns to look away, hoping to hide the rosiness of his cheeks. But as he looks away, the puppy takes notice of you and rubs her tiny head against your leg.

Crouching down, you pat her softly. "Aww, hey there. Is he taking good care of you hm?"

The dog can't really speak, but with the way it's wagging its tail—tells you that she loves her new owner.

"He can be a bit scary sometimes, but he's the biggest sweetheart. Don't you think so?"

Sakura clicks his tongue. "Stop talking about me with Momo."

"Momo?"

His cheeks turn into a deeper shade of scarlet. He was biting down on his lower lip so hard that you wouldn't be surprised if it just started bleeding.

"T-the dog... Momo," he replies. As much as he tried to keep his cool, he was certainly failing at it. Even though you two have been going out for a few months now, it still wasn't that difficult to render him into a blushing mess.

"You named her?"

"How would I talk to her if I didn't?"

Point. You turned to look back at the dog, smiling warmly at her. "Your name's Momo huh? That's cute," you say before booping her nose.

You stand back up and face Sakura who was struggling to look you in the eye. He opens his mouth to speak only to stop. But he tries again.

"Don't even start and tease m—"

Boop. You just booped his nose—the same way you did with Momo.

It left his jaw hanging, unsure if you really just did what you did. With his brows furrowed, he picks up the dog in his arms. You wanted to be serious just like him, but you found it hard to maintain your composure at such an unusual (but lovely) sight.

"Keep teasing me and I won't let you go near her. No petting... defintiely no booping."

He says all that with a straight face. And off he goes—back inside his humble abode with his little friend in his clutches.

For a guy that refused to take in that dog a week ago... he sure has taken quite a liking for her.

o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.

[hajimeseyo]

(part 1 here! it's not required for reading this piece, but they are connected, so it'll make more sense if you read the first part first!)

The door to the sewing club slides open with a loud BANG!

“Yo.” A tall, intimidating guy with blond, braided hair strolls in, with all the casualness of someone taking a trip to the convenience store.

You gape wordlessly at him from where you're sitting, still jolted from the lound and sudden bang. Who is this? What does he want?? Has he ever heard of knocking??? 

“Let’s go eat, Mitsuya, I'm hungry as fu– oh, sorry, didn't see you there.” he strides into the room, pausing when he sees you. You can only blankly nod in response, the movement itself almost pure instinct, brain still running on fight or flight mode. 

A light chuckle comes from your right, and you shift your gaze to the lilac haired male sitting next to you. He shoots you a reassuring smile before turning his attention back to the blond, now standing in front of him.

“Gimme a moment, yeah? I'm almost done here.” He motions to the school jacket in his hand. Your school jacket, actually. You accidentally ripped it while you were at school, and Mitsuya insisted on helping you fix it, waving away your voiced worries of taking away his precious lunch time. 

He returns to the current task at hand, hands swiftly and fluidly sewing the tear up, masterful after years of practice. Your gaze returns back to the blond guy as he pulls up a chair from one of the nearby tables and plops down across from Mitsuya. They seem familiar with each other, the way both are relaxed in each other’s presence. 

“Oh yeah, this is Draken, by the way. The guy I was telling you about.” Mitsuya pauses briefly from his sewing to introduce the new person in the room. You immediately perk up at the familiar name. Well, that clears up a lot of things.

“Draken? The guy with the matching dragon tattoo?” You ask, eyes alight with intrigue. Draken snorts amusedly. 

“I see you've heard the story.” He turns his head so you can see the familiar dragon tattoo inked into the left side of his head, the exact mirror of Mitsuya's. Your mouth forms into a little ‘o’ at the sight of it. “This tattoo is mine, by the way. Paid for it and everything.”

Another snort, from Mitsuya this time. “Right, I'm sure you paid for it fair and square.” A smile dances on his lips as he continues sewing, eyes focused.

“Hey, who was the one who ate all my rice first?”

“Um, excuse me…” Your voice turns Draken's attention back to you. “If you don't mind, could I take a closer look at your tattoo?” You shyly ask the blonde male. 

His eyebrows raise at the bold request, and you hurriedly add on to your previous question. “It’s just that, I've seen Mitsuya's one before, but I couldn't really get a full view due to his hair covering most of it. It seemed really cool, so…”

The explanation seems to placate him, and he smiles reassuringly, the sight easing some of your nerves. “Yeah, go ahead, knock yourself out.” 

You brighten up at that, immediately moving your seat to Draken’s left and wasting no time in studying every detail of the tattoo.

“Woahh…it’s so different seeing it in its entirety! It really is beautiful…”

“Heh, right? I thought it would’ve been such a shame, leaving such a cool design to stay hidden in some dingy alley, so getting it as a tattoo was a no-brainer. Didn’t expect this guy over here to do the same, though.”

“Hahah, you really made the right decision. It fits you really well!”

“Yeah, and it fit with my name too, y’kno? Draken, dragon. Really helps with making a name for yourself.”

“Ooh, that’s a cool detail!”

As you ooh and aah over the inked dragon on Draken’s head, unconsciously shifting closer and closer to him, you don’t notice how Mitsuya pauses in his work, quietly staring at the two of you with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Have you seen the actual mural? It’s way bigger than this tattoo.”

“I haven’t, actually.”

“If you want, I can bring you sometime—”

“[name].” Mitsuya cuts in loudly, both your heads snapping towards him at the sound. He raises the repaired jacket in his hands with a smile that doesn’t really seem to reach his eyes. “The jacket’s done.”

“Oh!” You hop off the stool and gratefully accept the jacket as he walks over to hand it to you, lilac eyes never leaving your figure as you slip your arms through the sleeves, blissfully unaware. “Good as new! Thank you so, so much, Mitsuya.” 

His eyes soften at your sincere words, a warm smile naturally finding its way onto his face at your happy expression. “No problem at all, [name].”

“I’ll get going, then. I don’t wanna take up anymore of both of your lunch time.” you say, turning around to leave. You shoot Draken a wave as you walk past. “Bye, Draken! It was nice meeting you; maybe I’ll take you up on that offer to see the mural sometime.”

“You too, [name]. I’ll see you around.”

Mitsuya coughs lightly, and the sound prompts you to continue moving towards the exit. He follows closely behind you, reaching forward to open the door before you can.

“Thank you again, ‘tsuya.” You say once more, turning to him with a bashful grin. 

He huffs amusedly. “Like I said, it’s no problem at all. You can come to me anytime if you have any problems.” Your lips curl up even more at that, cheeks tinged with the slightest pink.

“Also,” He lets out another light cough, and you can’t help but take note of the way his ears are tinged red, how he suddenly seems to be avoiding your gaze. “You don’t…have to take Draken up on his offer.” he quietly says, words slowly turning into mumbles, the red from his ears slowly spreading to his cheeks. “I can bring you…if you want. And,” His face is fully red at this point, words so quiet you had to lean in to hear them. “if you want to look at the tattoo up close, you can just look at mine anytime…” he trails off, eyes looking anywhere but you.

You gape at him. This was something you definitely weren’t expecting. Despite your surprise, you can’t stop the giddy smile spreading across your face, giggling as you try to hold back your teasing. He’s already flustered enough; you suppose you’d spare him, just this once.

“Okay then.” You wave at him as you step out, eyes twinkling with mirth. “See you, ‘tsuya!”

Mitsuya watches your figure go until you disappear from his sight, sighing in relief and slight disbelief as he closes the door to the club. He hadn’t really planned on saying that, but the words just… slipped out. Something about the way you looked at him made them bubble up until he couldn’t contain them any longer. At least your reaction was positive.

He turns around, fully prepared to put the whole thing behind him, only to be greeted with a razor-sharp grin. Draken wiggles his eyebrows at him, looking like a cat that just caught its prey.  “So…someone got jealous, huh?”

Mitsuya lets out a suffering groan. “Please. Don’t tell anyone. You didn’t see anything.”

Draken cackles. “Maybe I’ll consider it if you buy me a karubi don.”

He’s so telling everyone. 

[avtrbee]

the parent-teacher conference

summary: there’s a new parent in town!

tw: implications of death ig?

Gojo Satoru is positively beaming. He has had a few unforgettable moments in his life; his first day in Jujutsu Tech, his awakening, the first time he got drunk, that one threesome with you and Ge- he’s getting distracted. Point is, this just might take the cake for the most unforgettable.

He had gotten a call from Nanami this morning asking him to meet up. It was already suspicious that he called him, but Satoru was feeling pretty generous. After all, it’s not always that Satoru could get to hear his kouhai ask for a favor.

Now, Satoru is sitting on a chair in a McDonalds beside you, and sitting on the chair in-front of the both of you is a very, very ashamed and embarrassed Nanami Kento. Fuck, Satoru’s smug. His cheeks have hurt from smiling so widely in the past hour and he’s fairly sure that you’re struggling to hide that smirk away from your face.

Amidst the noise of chattering people, a voice stood out from the rest. A small boy with pink hair and chubby cheeks came running towards your table. His yellow sweater and jean shorts were bright and clean, obviously brand new but hastily bought. “Nanamin-!” he cried as he reaches your table. He looks at Nanami with wide eyes. “Aaah.” He opens his mouth expectantly.

Without missing a beat, Satoru’s kouhai immediately scoops up a small serving of his Oreo McFlurry and feeds the boy who smiles in thanks after chewing the ice cream. He does not hesitate to turn and run back to the play place.

Satoru couldn’t help but sigh in defeat. “Oi, Megumi,” he calls to the child who was also at the play place with his sister. “Why couldn’t you be cute like him?” He whines. He doesn’t need to turn his head to know that Megumi heard him, and how he’s glaring at him right now. Call it a father’s instinct. But, speaking of fathers-

You see, Nanami has been in this exact same position three years prior except he was on the other side of the table. When Satoru confessed that he had not-so-accidentally acquired two children with enough emotional baggage for four adult sorcerers, Nanami went berserk. Satoru remembers that scolding, how Nanami called him irresponsible, how you and Satoru weren’t ready for them, how he was in no position to adopt two children despite him having more than enough resources to sustain Megumi and Tsumiki- only to find out Nanami is good little junior who followed his exact footsteps and basically adopted the first orphan he saw. Satoru wonders how many hours it spent before Nanami threw away his pride and asked him for parenting advice. Karma is real!

“So. Itadori Yuuji, huh,” he starts, unable to keep the glee out of his voice. Satoru watches as Nanami hunches his shoulders just a tiny bit in shame, but glares back at him. Nanami opens his mouth to retort, but before his voice came out little Yuuji came running back with his mouth open for another bite of Oreo McFlurry. Nanami delivers his request and Yuuji goes back to his own business.

“He’s clingy,” you observed. That was the fifth time in ten minutes did the pink haired child go back for ice cream. You suspect its not the ice cream itself, but Nanami’s presence. “He must be anxious if he doesn’t see you for too long.”

And who could blame him? Yuuji’s sole caretaker before Nanami was his grandfather, but after he was eaten up by a curse…

“I’m worried about that,” Nanami admits. “He gets upset when I have to leave work. He has to stay home alone and I get off work late…sometimes not at all.”

“Eh,” Satoru waves off his worries with a hand. “It’ll be like that from the start. You just have to assure them that you won’t leave.”

Satoru remembers this. How Tsumiki tries her best to hide her anxiety when he leaves for a work trip and how Megumi lets Satoru hug him briefly when he comes home. Sometimes both children are surprised he comes back at all despite his constant reassurance.

He quickly learns that these children do not trust the words of adults. Words are easily said, promises easily broken.

“Mhmm.” You nod. “We try to always have one of us be present at night. No simultaneous missions for both of us unless necessary.”

Yeesh, Satoru remembers the circumstances that led to that decision. When the both of you were finally able to come home after separate missions on both ends of Japan, Megumi and Tsumiki had thought you had left them.

“Maybe Yuuji can stay with us just until you get back,” you suggest. “If all three of us are gone, I know I can at least trust Tsumiki with him.”

Nanami nods appreciatively. “Thank you, Y/N-san. I know this must be a bother…”

Satoru shakes his head. “Nah. Besides Megumi needs friends his own age.”

He is worried about his little boy. Megumi isn’t exactly the social butterfly like Tsumiki is. Satoru knows that Tsumiki can create an underground cult and rule the school if she really wanted to, but Megumi would rather die than to talk to someone he deems undeserving.

The boy doesn’t even eat with anyone during lunch, or play with anyone during their free time. Megumi would just summon his dogs and let them roam around the school field, and it’s not like anyone would see.

After Megumi explained this to Satoru, he finally understood the multiple concerning calls he got from Megumi’s teachers. They report him petting the air mindlessly like there were invisible dogs, which…there were.

“But what about school?” You ask, prodding the man a bit. He has hardly shared any of his plans.

“There’s a school nearby my apartment. I’ve already enrolled Yuuji there for the next school year.”

Ah, Nanami, Satoru coos in his mind. So meticulous and well-planned!

“He’s ten by now,” you muse, swirling your straw in coke. “Curses and techniques manifest by four. Do you think he sees-?”

“No,” came Nanami’s harsh reply. He says it with such conviction, like he was willing it to be true. It’s the loudest he had been since he asked both of you to meet him at a McDonalds and begged for parenting advice. “He will never be part of that life.”

To others, Nanami must’ve sounded angry. But to you and Satoru, he just sounded protective. Satoru understands. He would give anything to take Megumi out of the sorcery world.

“I’m jealous,” you admit in a whisper. “I’m scared for Megumi and Tsumiki sometimes.”

“Tsumiki is a non sorcerer,” Nanami points out. “She is innocent.”

You sigh. “I gave her some glasses with my cursed energy to see them just in case.”

Satoru remembers this. You both had found Tsumiki beating herself up about how she’s always left behind. She was the only one who couldn't see Megumi’s dogs. The only one who doesn’t understand why you or Satoru would sometimes flick your hand at a random tree. The only one couldn’t see. You relented quickly, giving her twin glasses that match Satoru’s- Like the ones Maki-chan has!- only to be used inside the house.

Using the glasses outside the house is a strict no-no. Satoru didn’t want her seeing the ugly curses that lurk around the streets. Not that she would see them anyway, considering he had exorcised every curse found within a 300 meter radius around the house and their school. But, still, you never know.

Your words bring a deep frown on Nanami’s face, immediately indicating that he did not agree with your actions. You could feel the disappointment radiating off of the man that Satoru wonders if he regrets asking you for advice.

“I still don’t want her to see curses, but I don’t want her to feel left out.” you reason. “That’s just children, Nanami-kun. They make you bend your morals if it's for the sake of them.”

“Mm,” Nanami hums, leaning back on his chair. His gaze turns to the play place and Satoru follows. The children were building towers out of wooden blocks. They had established an effective system; Yuuji hands Megumi the blocks, Tsumiki directs Megumi where to put it, and Megumi obeys.

They look so peaceful. They look like children.

Nanami stares at Yuuji, who immediately notices his gaze. The child perks up as he catches him, before standing up and breaking into a sprint with his arms open.

Nanami catches the child no problem, but the chair squeaks in protest. Satoru watches as Yuuji hugs him the best he could, with Nanami’s huge palm over the back of Yuuji’s head.

“Ah,” the blonde says, his eyes soft and drunk with love. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for this one.”

Satoru gazes back to his own children, finishing the tower of blocks everyone has started. Satoru breaks into a genuine smile. Welcome to parenthood, Nanami.

[witches-dream]

Imagine you have a son, and he's growing very disciplined, which is good, but he's very introverted, not really in a shut-in kinda way, he just seems very unapproachable to people, and he is, because he's just so serious all the time. Like you look at him and, yeah, he's gonna be great warrior, but you also wish that he could. Socialize a little?

So your son grows up and leaves to fulfill some kinda grand goal and you're like "ok, son", still kinda worried about him, but he's not your baby anymore, he can do what he wants. So he leaves and after a few days you hear this earth-shattering lightning strike, no storm before or after or anything, everybody is wondering what happened and if you'll all die soon. Nothing happens past that, actually, it feels strangely peaceful. So after a few days your son comes back and he doesn't look any different, but he has definitely changed in like a week or two that he was gone. So he says "father, I have defeated the black and white dragons". You're kinda shocked, but that explains the lightning strike and how everything went quiet after it, and your son is not one to lie, so you you say "oh, for real? neat". "They are not going to bother anyone anymore." Your son says in a solemn tone. Later, everyone celebrates but he doesn't come. You knock into his room, and, even through a closed door, you can feel some sort of power, warmth radiating from it. He opens the door and his sword looks... Different. First of all, it's much bigger. It has a completely different shape. And there's this... Purple gem on its handle and it's glowing brightly. Nobody in this village could've forged such an otherworldly masterpiece. So you ask "got a new sword, son?" He says "Yeah. It's a Soul Jam, actually." "A Soul Jam? Never heard of it." "I will tell you later."

He reluctantly agrees to join the celebration, but after a few weeks he leaves the village. He starts building a citadel, and walling off the coast of the Licorice Sea. People are already calling him Your Majesty, though he's slow on accepting that title. Many decades pass and you're so old you can't get out of the house on your own anymore. Your son visits and he looks the exact same as when he left. He takes care of you, with the same cold face he's always had, though his hands are warm and him just being there warms your heart. You strain your old and tired vocal cords to utter "I'm proud of you, son." He's silent, but he nods, and his long hair obscures his face, but you can imagine he's happy to hear that.

It's after you die that he accepts the throne, and the title of King that was decided by the people whose respect for him towered the mountains. And, as it turns out, your son is immortal now. And, through the years, through the decades and centuries and even millennia, he takes the utmost care of all his subordinates, he remembers every face of his every warrior and he etches out their names and immortalizes them and prays to them each day.

Your son does many great things, many heroic deeds. He defends the kingdom he founded with a resolution of a true warrior. Your son made friends. There's only four of them, they are heroes of their own lands just like him, so they're busy most of the time, but they go on adventures and they have fun once a couple of centuries. Your son also makes many mistakes, says things he deeply regrets. He has a son, and, even being thousands of years old, he still thinks of you and wishes he could be even half as great a father as you were.

Maybe sometimes your son wishes you were around to lend a word of advice, or to say "I'm proud of you" one more time. Other times, he's ashamed of a thought that you might be out there somewhere, watching him from the heavens and shaking your head in disapproval. You have no way of telling him you love him either way, with all his virtues and all his vices alike. What matters is that, in the end, your son overcomes all adversities and becomes a better person. He was given a unique chance in life: to have infinite time to learn, and he uses all that time to become a better person.

You have no regrets. You can rest peacefully, knowing you have raised a hero.

[sexydoffyman]

can you do smth about monmy issues? if not, its okay. i mean i understand this isnt specific at all and this might be real difficult without information

WHERE IS SHE

general: angst

characters: Valeria Garza

A/N: Hope ya like it!🦂

Since the day of your marriage, you were inseparable. You would take a bullet for her and she would do the same. You’d lie to get her out of trouble. She’d steal to get you the stuff you want. You’d be by her side no matter what.

You trust her with your life. When she told you that you need to move. You moved. When she told you she needed money. You got her the exact amount she needed. She promised you never had to work again. You trusted her and she fulfilled her promise. You fell in love with a criminal. You fell first. She fell harder.

As years go by, no couple can go without an argument. Unfortunately, you also sometimes argue. Sometimes she had a bad day working. Maybe she lost a lot of money. But it was never anything that you couldn’t resolve.

You would do anything to get you two to make up again. It’s been a week. Usually, you two have been very much in love again, but not this time. She yelled her heart out, and so did you. She said some very hurtful things, but one stuck out the most.

“I could’ve been happier with someone else!” She said it in such a mocking way too. It felt like she truly didn’t care. You were so angry for the past few days, but now you’d do anything to make things end. You wanted to apologise for everything and anything that you have done. Sadly, Valeria was nowhere to be found.

She usually told you when she was going to disappear for a while, but this time you got no warning. You thought that something happened to her. You were worried sick. The sentence was stuck in your head.

Your mother told you the same exact thing many times. You always endured it, knowing deep inside that she will never love you. You always wanted her love. She was the only one you had. You lost her before she could tell you anything.

You were scared. You hoped that she would return in one piece. You knew how your mother ended up. You were desperate. It has been two weeks now, and there were still no signs of her. Did she decide to leave, did she die? You called her. Texted her. Nothing worked. It has been a month.

You haven’t gotten a single text from her. You were silently hoping that a miracle would occur and bring her back. You searched for her many times by now. Every day you went searching for her.

This day was no different. You went out, got breakfast and started your search. You decided to go to the end of a nearby river. It was a spot where you two met. Your mind didn’t let you go there, but you thought that maybe she would be there. That she missed you.

It was nothing beautiful. Just the river going into a canal under a bridge that looked like it might collapse anytime soon. You walked to it, music playing in your ears. The atmosphere changed. You walked up to the bridge.

She was there! She was there the whole time! You’d be exploding with emotion. You’d be jumping around with happiness.

But you couldn’t. You could only watch her corpse float on the shallow water. Her head would bump into the canal every now and then. You walked closer, wondering how you didn’t notice that horrid smell. Her back was filled with shots. She lost her shoes. She was on her stomach so you decided to turn her around.

What you looked at wasn’t recognisable. At this point, she had to have been soaking in that water for weeks. Somehow, her phone was on the land. Like her arm was dragging on the land the whole time, the river carried her body down here. Surprisingly, it wasn’t broken.

You turned it on and put in the password. You were the only one who she told. You saw her messaging app. It had a chat open. It was a chat with you. You noticed that she was writing something. Tears fell as you read the message that was written so hurriedly. In her last moments, she managed to put everything, that she wanted you to know, in there.

“Miss you sorry will die no cry money in safe live i love”

[sweetrottenendings]

"Plea"

Lawrence Oleander x GN!Reader

I might make a part 2 to this idk i just luv my plant wife.

SFW, one single swear word, 899 words. You wanna go on a date with Lawrence. Maybe a little OOC? Still figuring out how i wanna portray him in my writing.

Once again MDNI i promise you this fandom isn't for you.

-

It’s been a long time since you’ve had fresh air- real fresh air, not just Lawrence opening the window a smidge after your pleading. Despite all the greenery littering his apartment (or- your home, the cage you’ll never leave.) it feels as if the oxygen has been sapped entirely. All that is left is the musk, the stench of rot and the way its salt infects your lungs. Is there a chemical mixture of salt and carbon dioxide? Probably, but it likely isn’t what you’re sucking in at the moment.

Sometimes however, it brings you comfort with the familiarity. Stockholm syndrome set in long ago, so long ago that you struggle to remember the moment it hit. You don’t think you’d have it any other way, you love Lawrence despite the revolting relationship that’s been curated in the space- you’re thinking about the air again.

The delicate sound of trickling water sounds out, Lawrence is watering the plants. He’s meticulous, as he is with everything he does. Eyes narrowed and eyebrows furrowed as he dictates the exact amount of water each plant requires. It’s moments like these where you get to observe him in his entirety. The way his form hunches, blonde hair that occasionally clings to his neck, bright blue eyes that used to haunt your nightmares but now soothe your dreams. If only there were a universe where you had met normally, where Lawrence wasn’t as disturbed as he is- and you could be a normal couple. One that goes on cute dates to the park, snuggles together at night when the rain gushes outside, loves each other like normal people and don’t prod at each others spinal cords-

You should stop that thought there.

A park date, you imagine that would be something he could enjoy- considering his affinity for nature. Perhaps he could even enjoy it in this universe? He loves you, he really does- in his own fucked up way. Plus you really, desperately need fresh air. You need to inhale it as hard as you can, to feel alive for once (But do you really want to feel alive?) compared to the hollow death you feel now. Lawrence would never take you out around people however, there will always be that part of him that worries you’ll run and abandon what you’ve created together. (You never will, he’s all you need.)

What about during the night? He could take you to any spot he chooses, hide you from anyone he sees- even tie you to him, surely you could make it look inconspicuous. It would be nice too, the weather during the night is pleasant and far more suited to what he’s used to. He might get angry though, he wouldn’t kill you but maybe he’d finally go through with the threat to cut off your limbs. After pondering for a moment, you decide it’s worth the risk.

Your voice cuts him out of the zone he’s found himself in- he turns sharply towards you. He isn’t as trembly as he used to be, now confident in his power over you. “Lawrence-” Your voice is soft, the way you’ve trained it to be, “I have a request…”

He stares at you, unblinking.

“This is t-the biggest thing I will ever ask of you, and I won’t be upset or surprised if you say no.” It’s not like your feelings matter anyway, but you hope it may soothe any anger. He places down the watering can with a soft sound and makes his way to you. You haven’t been tied up in a very long time, but sometimes you sit yourself in the same chair from the start- it’s almost comforting. He kneels down to your eye level with a stern stare, and nods- prompting you to continue.

“I-I want to go outside-” He inhales sharply “-with you…” He exhales. “A date, in a park maybe, during the night so there isn’t anyone around…” You give him a sweet smile, as loving as you can, “...it’d be just us, like it’s meant to be.” he continues to stare, blue eyes burning into your soul and eating whatever confidence you had left- jaws wide and unrelenting. He must be angry, surely, he’s going to cut your limbs off and tie you back up, you’ve destroyed everything!-

“Okay…” You blink.

“Okay?”

He nods “We… we can go out.” You feel your heart swell with the most joy you’ve felt in your life, it bursts at the seams like you’ve just gorged yourself at a buffet. You want to hug him- you reach your trembling arms out in hopes he understands, and he does. Taking you into his arms, soft yet oddly strong for someone like him, he wraps you into his being. A hand comes up to stroke your hair in a soothing gesture- you didn’t realise you had started crying. You nuzzle your face deep into his chest, a grateful mantra pouring from your forever scarred lips. He tilts your head up to face him- a warm smile splayed across his face, filled with nothing but love for you, only you, forever you.

His voice is the gentlest you’ve ever heard from him,

“If you try to run, I will kill you.”

You smile back,

“Good, I love you Lawrence…”

He doesn’t say it back, but he doesn’t have to. You know he loves you.

[viserya-firstofhername]

Listen, I thought I would survive this season lurking on the sidelines, but I can’t. Jace broke my heart tonight after surpassing any and every character GRRM ever created in my brain and heart since reading Fire and Blood, and I need to talk about 2x07.

Strong words, yes, damn ugly, when Jace is calling people ‘mongrels’ (no we ain’t letting it slip, no, but the rest of men are sometimes getting away with whores, mothers-of-bastards, are we good with these now cause its common speech or smth). Imagine that tho, classist Jacaerys going through calling himself things in his head every day of his life while looking at his beautiful visibly not-silver curls getting in his eyes. Just imagine for a second. So distinct.

It’s bubbling in him for years. And his entire family - his mother, his father, his other father, his third father (the epitome of Targaryen legacy if there ever was one), his grandfathers, every person that his young heart wants to trust - refusing to talk to him about it. While every ‘family’ member deemed unsafe - read - Aegon, Aemond, Alicent (even fucking Cole) is out there ready to discuss the obvious with anyone at any given time, including Jace himself. Why does his mother play pretend for 16 years not once speaking to him about it? How often does he ask himself? Alicent has dark hair, why does Aegon look like a true Targaryen? How often does Jace lose sleep over this thought.

I have news for you babes. He got his first perception of what ‘mongrel’ is from the mirror. If you need him to spell it out, you haven’t been paying attention.

I’ve slowly shifted to preferring his show characterization to the one in the book (he is my favourite Targ in asoiaf books and shows verses, and I know I know book!Jace had the whole little pet project with the Dragonseeds and he had two dozen powerpoint presentations and a huge spreadsheet document about it, and a separate spreadsheet he made just to calculate and weigh in benefits and negatives of offering such power to bastards. Yet. YET). He sees what neither Viserys nor Rhaenyra allowed themselves to see, blinded by their entitlement, classism and feeling of supremacy. Jacaerys, mind you, everyone that is calling him a bastardphobe and whatnot, realizes that if anyone—anyone—I repeat—ANYONE—outside direct family is to claim a dragon, in 25 years he himself will be in the exact same situation as his mother. Vermithor or Silverwing alone are no lesser treats than Vhagar, and as his mother like to remind him, Vermax is young. If a man (pay attention) claims any of the two, Jace’s inheritance will be out the window, no matter how many silver-haired babies he has with his cousin-step-sister, Rhaenyra's intentions would die with her last breath.

So what is he to do? Is he to lay abed, eat cake and dangle his feet, waiting for the inevitable to come? No. He is to do exactly what he has been doing since he was 8 (younger even!) – learn High Valyrian, train with the sword, be impeccable in dragonriding, in diplomacy, in manners, while nourishing the relationships with all his younger siblings, preparing them to be his closest allies (half of which we have never seen Rhaenyra display, except the proficiency in the only two skills that are explicitly Targaryen, nigh a feeble attempt at diplomacy once when she tried to betroth Jace to Helaena, and after her ex now stepmom turned her down she fled to the nearby island). Not to mention he was doing fine managing amiable connection with Aegon and to some extent Aemond before the grown-ups and their big fucking heads laid the seeds (ha!) for the feud to continue in their generation.

Read the above paragraph again. He does it all, for years, as well as he can, while also taking care of and shielding his brothers. And so far, instead of acknowledging his accomplishments we’ve only seen Rhaenyra respond with slack filler statements like “No worries Jacey, precious, it’s far in the future, don’t push yourself too hard” (listen, I know we can’t be certain just because it wasn’t on-screen, and she definitely did good raising her kids, but I’m getting the vibe she isn’t one for words of affirmation, she ain’t really good at that iykwim, and it’s his language), and Jacaerys bows his head, says ‘Yes, Mother’ and then proceeds to pressure himself beyond his limits (and Luke as well – as we saw in 1x10 – because he realizes how delusional and naïve the ‘no pressure’ statement is.)

Gods oh gods, and imagine, this is just one layer, but he is also a young man, and a young man’s ego.. Well. I feel like I should also quote bby boi Jon Snow, and his reasoning on why he won’t lay with women (ironic how that turned out).

Now layer all the above with the following. He is born with black hair. Luke too. Joff too. Obviously Jace as the oldest will take care of them and shield them. But then, but then, the moment she gets the opportunity, Rhaenyra marries Daemon. And of course. Names her first silver-haired son Aegon. (her channelling her father here SO much i can't even). Do I need to start a counter of the fucking number of daggers in Jace’s heart by now?

One more Rhaenyra says. One more dagger should be fine, he is her bestest most perfect boy, nothing can hurt him. Nothing can hurt him, so she leaves him to deal with the Small Council on his own repeatedly. Nothing can hurt him so she conspires with a rando and refuses to keep him in the loop. Nothing can hurt him, so she flies out alone and comes back with her shiny new dragonrider and doesn’t even acknowledge Jace, he has to go reach out to her first. (good gods, imagine if Addam had silver hair).

He can take one more, the most perfect boy, Rhaenyra says. (I wrote this one before Emma D’arcy’s new interview where they directly confirm Rhaenyra felt justified to choose herself over Jacaerys).

Let me dive you for a second in Jace’s POV for this one (in the magical method of David Lightbringer): Imagine you are the first born child. You have studied and build yourself to be deserving of being your Mother’s son, but you never quite get proficient enough to change your physical features. Then. Your grandsire dies, your uncle steals everything from your Mother, and your first proposal on any counteraction gets your little brother killed.

You blame yourself, you feel tremendous guilt - how did this happen - you were always the perfect son (you don’t even acknowledge the small victories you win for your Mother, you were always good at these skills you honed pedantically for years, it is not an achievement). You do not let yourself grieve, instead you have to make it up for the loss you caused.

But your Mother continuously keeps you in a cage allegedly for your own wellbeing, which brings its own amount of frustration at the age of 16. But you sneak out and win another small victory – the only price you need to pay is your late father’s rightful inheritance. You get recognition for a second, but then Mother complains that her ails for being caged are greater than your ails for being caged, and you as a good son try to figure a way out for both of you.

So, after keeping you in this cage for safety, which you are not asking for - on the opposite - your idea gets transmuted by some rando into a plan that will take away the last pillar of legitimacy you see in yourself. Imagine now, not only have you been stripped of it, but Mother scolds you for complaining.

And you finally break – no mother, if you do this I am exactly the mongrel I was told I was all my life, I called myself – but it comes out jagged and aggressive and immature, and you become a little entitled primadonna. But either way you ask, beg, plead for one thing, just this one thing – truly for yourself – you must deserve that much, one need for your very being to remain whole and for yourself to be able to keep your feet on the ground and mind whole. That one thing, that one time, you ask her to pick you over herself. And Mother choses herself.

In Jacaerys’ mind this last decision of hers invalidates all her arguments of keeping him safe, because ultimately, he realizes she is keeping him safe to satisfy her own needs, without realizing 1) what damage she is doing to him as a human being, and most importantly 2) she is preserving himself only while she lives – she ultimately does not care what will happen to him once she is no longer alive.

It is very rude way to put it, but it is a very human and very real thing real parents do sometimes, especially when their (eldest) kids are severely parentified. And Rhaenyra, bless her, not putting the blame on her entirely, is in an impossible situation too, but is also immature more often than not. It’s in the genes. And has been lonely and abandoned often, and believes if there is one man that will never abandon her, it’s her bestest boi Jace. And no one told her a firstborn son is not supposed to fill the role of a partner. I am however very saddened to see she did not learn a single lesson from her interactions with Viserys – especially that she seems incapable of realizing she’s shutting out Jacaerys brutally, just as her father did with her. For 20 damn years, she has been subjected to abandonment and being left all alone (by all the men in her life), and she can’t realize she’s doing the same to Jace, while also keeping him on a leash, caged with her, unable to seek refuge anywhere.

Truly heartbreaking.

I think that ought to be enough layers to cover the strong classist word for y’all. Thank you for coming to my TED talk.

(I feel a quick exclaimer is needed. As a viewer I find that development extremely juicy, it fed me well and I am relishing and relating to both, not criticizing. But Jace is also my best boi, so there you go.)

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Galileo Galilei Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

A few days have passed since Professor Maury and Drake took me to their house.

Sebastian: "Mitsuki, you said you've been having bad dreams lately. Are you okay?"

Mitsuki: "Oh, yes. I'm sorry for worrying you."

I said that, but the truth is, I'm still having nightmares.

(I sometimes have the same dream, and other times a different one.)

(But in every dream, I'm still a Dhampir.)

Sebastian: "They said that dreams can be either auspicious or ominous. Some historical figures achieved great things by taking their dreams as omens."

Sebastian: "Scary dreams are sometimes considered a sign of good luck, so why not treat them like fortune-telling?"

Mitsuki: "Hehe. That's a good idea."

I smiled appreciatively at Sebastian's concern.

(But the dreams I see are a little different from ordinary ones.)

(They're so vivid, almost as if they're pleading with me in sorrow.)

As I pondered this, Sebastian exclaimed next to me.

Sebastian: "We've run out of essential seasoning for tonight's menu."

Sebastian: "Mitsuki, could you accompany me to do some shopping? I need to visit a few stores."

Mitsuki: "Sure."

After arriving in town, we decided to split up. By the time I finished my part, the sun had begun to set.

(I think I got everything we need. Sebastian should be finishing up soon.)

I was looking at my shopping list as I made my way to our meeting place when一

Dog voice: "Woof!"

(Was that a dog's voice? It sounded like a scream.)

Suddenly, a high-pitched cry caught my attention, and I went into the back alley to look for the source of it.

There I found一

Child 1: "Haha, look at this filthy mutt!"

Puppy: *Whimper*

Child 2: "Dogs have to obey humans, you know!"

Several children were bullying a brown-haired puppy, poking it with a stick, and threatening it.

Mitsuki: "What do you think you're doing?!"

In a moment of panic, I moved to intervene, but something raced past me and leaped into the midst of the children.

Suddenly, a large dog with a gray coat appeared.

(Huh? A wild dog!?)

Stray Dog: "Grrr."

Child 1: "Whoa!? What's this thing!?"

The wild dog stood protectively over the puppy, glaring menacingly.

The children's faces immediately tensed as the dog, nearly their own height, appeared out of nowhere.

Child 2: "Shoo! Go away!!"

One of the children, holding a small stone, raised it, ready to throw it at the stray dog.

Mitsuki: "No, don't do that!"

I instinctively intervened, and the flying pebbles struck my arms and legs.

Mitsuki: "Ouch!"

Child 1: "Now's our chance, run!"

I crouched down in pain, and the children hurriedly ran away.

(My leg is bleeding, but I'm sure it'll heal just fine.)

Puppy: *Whimper*

I turned at the faint whimper and saw the puppy peeking at me from behind the wild dog.

Mitsuki: "I'm sorry for startling you. Are you both okay?"

Wild dog?: "........"

(This dog seems to be protecting the puppy. For now, it doesn't seem like it's going to attack.)

The wild dog seemed more cautious than alert, observing my actions.

Its eyes, upon closer inspection, had a purple hue, giving me a sense of déjà vu.

(The puppy's front paw is bleeding.)

It must have been injured earlier.

Mitsuki: "Will you let me patch that poor baby's paw?"

I took out my handkerchief and quietly addressed the dog, ensuring not to agitate it.

The wild dog seemed to understand my intention and moved away from the puppy.

(What a smart dog. Maybe it belongs to someone.)

(But it seems quite wild for a pet.)

As I wrapped the puppy's leg with the handkerchief...

???: "Sidereus, there you are."

(Huh? That voice.)

Recognizing the familiar voice, I turned around to see Professor Maury standing there.

Maury: "It's you again."

Mitsuki: "Hello. What a coincidence."

Seeing Maury's frowning expression, my voice unintentionally became sharper.

(I'm not trying to meet him on purpose, so why do we keep running into each other like this?)

Wild dog?: *Bark*

As I blurted that in my mind, the wild dog barked and walked towards him, sitting obediently by his feet.

(Come to think of it, he called the dog Sidereus earlier.)

Mitsuki: "Is that dog yours?"

Maury: "It's not a dog, but a wolf."

Mitsuki: "W-Wolf!?"

Surprised, I inadvertently raised my voice, thinking it was just a dog.

(This is the first time I've seen one up close. Is it okay to approach?)

Wolves are fierce creatures.

As I shivered with realization, he spoke as if he could see through me.

Maury: "Don't worry. Wolves don't attack humans."

Mitsuki: "I see."

Maury: "As long as you don't recklessly provoke it. Humans tend to exaggerate the ferocity of wolves due to twisted knowledge."

Mitsuki: "I see. Since it was trying to protect the puppy earlier, it must be a gentle creature at heart."

Mitsuki: "Thank you very much."

Sidereus: *Bark*

Maury: "........."

Suddenly, the wolf called Sidereus grabbed the hem of his cloak and tugged at it.

Maury: "What's the matter, Sidereus?"

Sidereus: *Bark*

Maury: "........."

Sidereus turned his head toward me as if wanting to say something.

He glanced alternately between me and the puppy behind me, furrowing his eyebrows slightly.

Maury: "Humans are truly foolish."

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Maury: "They harm and persecute the weak, and that foolishness remains unchanged throughout time."

He muttered to himself and then approached me, grabbing my wrist.

Mitsuki: "What are you doing?"

Maury: "I'm going to stop the bleeding. Follow me."

Caught off guard by his unexpected words, I hurriedly tried to pull my hand back, but Professor Maury wouldn’t let go.

Mitsuki: “If that’s the case, I can do it myself. I have a handkerchief.”

Maury: “Isn’t that handkerchief wrapped around the puppy’s leg yours?”

(Oh, right.)

Puppy: *Whine*

He looked down at the puppy whining at my feet and calmly said:

Maury: “If you want to avoid getting mistreated by humans again, you better leave.”

Seemingly intimidated by him, the puppy took a step back, then looked at me and barked before slowly walking into the alley.

Mitsuki: “I’m glad he can walk.”

Maury: “........”

Maury: “Let’s go.”

He led me to the square and made me sit on the edge of the fountain, pouring water over the injured area.

Mitsuki: “........”

I endured the pain as the wound stung more than I anticipated. Then he took out his handkerchief to wrap it around the wound, but I hurriedly stopped him.

Mitsuki: “Your handkerchief will get dirty! I’m fine now.”

Maury: “What’s the point if I don’t stop the bleeding? Or are you going to leave it dripping everywhere?”

Maury: “It’s annoying to have the smell lingering around.”

(Lingering around?)

(It’s nice of him to treat the wound, but if it’s annoying him, he could just leave it.)

Maury: “Moreover, judging by the situation, you defended the puppy and Sidereus.”

Maury: “In that case, I owe you.”

His words made me blink.

(So, it’s a thank you?)

Honestly, I didn't really sense that kind of attitude from him, and it didn't seem like mere kindness either, but...

(Is he someone who sticks to his principles?)

As he wrapped the handkerchief around my leg, much like I did for the puppy, I noticed something.

Maybe it was the water or perhaps his naturally low body temperature, but his occasionally cold hand against my skin felt ticklish.

After wrapping the handkerchief, he looked up, and his purple eyes reflected me.

(Oh, I see. I just realized.)

The familiarity I felt in Sidereus's eyes was from him.

Maury: "Are there any other places that hurt?"

Mitsuki: "My arm."

I couldn't even bring myself to hesitate, so I just told him honestly.

As he rolled up the sleeve of my blouse and examined the wound, I couldn't bear the silence and searched for a way to start a conversation.

Townsperson 1: "The Paris Expo was amazing! Especially that huge telescope!"

Townsperson 2: "Yeah, I was surprised at how big it was. It was indeed the world's largest telescope."

(They were returning from the Expo.)

(Come to think of it, he's an astronomy professor.)

Mitsuki: "Um, did you happen to go to the Paris World's Fair? The highlight seems to have been the giant telescope."

When I tried to break the silence by throwing out a topic I had found, he let out an exasperated sigh.

Maury: "That telescope was too large to be practical for astronomical observations. It was basically a front they put up for the World's Fair."

Mitsuki: "I see. I had no idea."

Maury: "Those in power are more interested in showcasing the country's prestige than pursuing the truth."

I sensed a tinge of discomfort in his voice.

(He seems more lamenting than irritated.)

Mitsuki: "That's somehow sad, isn't it?"

Mitsuki: "There should be things more important than just appearances."

Maury: "........."

(When I heard about him from Isaac before, I thought he might be someone who confronts truth for the sake of principles.)

Mitsuki: "I hope the importance of pursuing truth, as you say, gets through."

I spoke my mind, and he glanced at me for a moment, then averted his gaze.

Maury: "It won't."

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Maury: "Humans are creatures who define what's convenient for themselves as truth."

Maury: "Even if the truth is revealed, if it's inconvenient, they'll be condemned and excluded."

Maury: "I know of a fool who pursued the truth despite knowing this and ended up with a life sentence."

(I wonder if that person is his friend.)

He quietly and decisively labeled someone a fool, but I didn't see it that way.

Mitsuki: "I don't think that guy is a fool."

Maury: "What?"

Mitsuki: "If he ended up with a life sentence, it means there were people around who opposed him or hid the truth."

Mitsuki: "Persisting with your beliefs and pursuing the truth amidst such adversaries is not that easy, you know?"

Maury: "........."

Mitsuki: "For me, that person is braver than anyone else."

Maury: "........"

(Professor Maury?)

He lowered his gaze, concealing the lonely expression hidden behind his amethyst eyes.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

[wolvebonez]

please do dump about your watcher au as much as you want!! I'd love to hear about it!!

YAYYYY THANKS FOR ASKING its autism time Basically um. You know how most the watcher!grian hcs/interpretations have him as an unwilling participant in all this ? Uh, yeah ! Not this grian:3 Well. Kinda. But. Im a TMA Fan and I love FUCKED UP guys so !!!! Watchers feed off emotions. All emotions, but they're especially known for finding fear or grief or other negative emotions the most nutritionally filling/benefital to their health. However: They can't just sit there around someone whos very happy, sad, angry, ect, and then get fed from that. They have to- uh, for lack of better word- latch onto a players "soul," and tear chunks of that from them, dig into their mind and bite into whatever makes them feel and then tear that away. Sometimes, a feeding will cause the victim to be unable to feel anything at all after the feeding, if a Watcher gorges themself solely on them. Most often, when they use restraint while feeding, the victim will loose all feelings they'd had about the previous days, weeks, or even months, and might feel like everythings "dulled down" for some time while they recover. (Younger Watchers usually have to have physical contact with the victim to feed, older or more powerful Watchers can feed without even being on the same plane of existence as their victim, only needing to be able to See them.) Now, that's all kind of similar to a lot of headcanons about Watchers already, and I pulled the "eating emotions" thing from Martyns Eyes & Ears AU (altho in that its JUST fear), but uh... Heres where it differs: The Watchers aren't sentient. Not really, anyway. They're...predators, beings that know they need to feed and will go to great lengths to do so, survival their greatest worry above all else. Think of them like... Smart animals. Corvids, for example, crows especially- they will investigate their own dead to figure out what killed the other bird so they can avoid it, and are extremely good puzzle solvers. Prairie dogs have an incredibly advanced verbal communication system- able to even denote the speed of which a predator is approaching their den (probably the closest we could get to an ""language"" in the animal kingdom). But neither of those animals, as smart as they may be, are considered sentient. Its the same with Watchers. Watchers CAN communicate, they can understand eachother, they can achieve a certain amount of planning, like how squirrels can count what nuts they have & deduce how many they need, or how whales and other marine life are especially prone to being able to plan & use logical reasoning... They can understand the concept of death and... the concept of keeping their food alive for delayed gratification and a continued food source, instead of just going out and feeding on someone until theyre a husk of themselves, unable to provide more food. How, exactly, they got all the players into the life series/how they made the games IS something im working on, but the point im getting at here is that theyre basically like ants farming aphids, except the aphids are sentient people..? yay..? Ah, and Watcher cant reproduce normally. They have incredibly long lifespans, but when a Watcher does come to its end, they... Well, theyll find an player to bite into the soul of, and instead of feeding, they basically do the reverse- shoving all their energy into that being and becoming a parasite that will eventually take over the host and make them a Watcher, similarly without much sentience. Thats what happens to Grian. :3 The exact process of turning is also in the works but basically it starts by becoming unable to eat regular food, slowly focusing all the players willpower into wanting to eat, before they develop the ability to feed from other players. At this stage they might still be able to feel themself, however after feeding from another you tend to loose your own emotions amongst the ones youre feeding off of, and at some point, any remaining emotions the "player" has, is consumed by them for extra nutrition, and in turn they officially become a Watcher.

UMMMM YEAH!!!! Thats all the worldbuilding I have :3333 Theres uh- a story in my mind, but its not as fleshed out? I also MIGHT make it a fic (heavy on the might) so idk how much i'd wanna spoil. But uh, yeah, Grian'll be a bit of a special case in that his turning takes... a lot longer than normal. ^_^ I put him in the torture world sorry

[wizisbored]

wip wednesday sentences for 6/11

the heritance stuff was actually part of the last update on ao3 :)

the dissertation sentences mostly came from a 2-page appendix that doesnt actually count towards my wordcount at all. gotta love academic writing :/

blood red @twyrewolf, @enigma-the-mysterious, @eriquin, @somefishycat @whimsicalmeerkat, @loyal-house-of-lupin, @stonemaskedtaliesin, @kallisto-k

He doesn’t get an answer to that, the horse setting off without another word. It’s somewhat nerve-wracking, to trust the balance of a huge heavy horse over these rocks. At least she seems to be enjoying it. She’s bounding up and down slopes, wagging her tail like a dog and paying absolutely no mind to how much she’s bouncing him around on her back. There’s no clear path she’s following, as far as he can tell. That’s probably a good thing.

“So,” she says as she begins plodding across a relatively flat stretch, turning her head to glance back at him. “How much d’you know about this ghost town?”

“I thought you were scared of it?”

“Yeah, and? I still wanna know.”

He sighs, leaning back in the saddle. It’s something to talk about, at least. It takes him a moment to dredge up the memories; he and Ambrosius listened sincerely when the ladies talked, but there’s been a few more pressing things on his mind since then.

“I don’t remember the name,” he admits. “They didn’t really say much about it other than how it died. A vicar was murdered, decades ago, but apparently it’s not that clear who did it or why. Might’ve been a farmhand, maybe? But then, same night the vicar died, there was a fire. A big fire, and it was only a small town to begin with. Just getting itself established. I don’t know why they wanted to go there, they made it sound like there’s only ashes left.”

“Maybe it’s got something to do with why one shot the other and then pinned it on you?”

“Hm. Maybe. But on the bright side, they never mentioned any actual ghosts, so you should be safe.”

He leans forward to pat her neck, and she snorts.

dorm 4 @kalira, @oriharaizayadividesintoslytherin

“Oh, but Delia,” Lydia implores, all big eyes and worried voice and an incredible level of fakeness, “those are the omens my mother saw!”

That stops her short, just as intended. “Well- Lydia,” she continues after a moment, “when I talk about things happening for a reason, I’m not really talking about omens, I mean more like-”

“But it must mean something, right?! The exact same things she saw?”

“That’s not-”

“Oh, wait, no, we’re not allowed to talk about that, are we?"

heritance @tiercell, @shelfthe-reader, @tamsinswriting, @circus-complex

Emily named her. Emily loved her. She was supposed to be… Theirs.

Letter still clutched in his hands, Charles stands on shaking legs and makes his way back out of the office. He slips back into the homunculus’ room, watching from the doorway as the fast-asleep girl hugs the fast-asleep raccoon closer. Betelgeuse, he’s noticed, has started riding on her shoulder like he did Emily’s, though in much lighter forms. Mice or bugs, usually.  He’s even taught her to call him Beetlejuice - it’s been the easier name the children of Emily’s family learnt for generations, she still used it just to tease him sometimes. And now everyday he hears it from the mouth of her last creation.

When he first pulled the girl from the bathtub, Charles was terrified of living with her face. Nothing but the look of her, the shape of her features. But day after day, there’s something more. It’s not always something he can pin down, but his heart almost stopped the first time he heard her laugh.

The tiny girl sighs in her sleep, curling a little tighter around her familiar. Charles watches her for a moment more, and then looks down at the end of the note.

its not me @enigma-the-mysterious, @violet-prism-creatively @auburnlaughter, @zyrafowe-sny, @sourb0i

It feels wrong. Not that she’s usually particularly lightfooted, more that her body is supposed to feel exactly the way she intends it to. None of this full-body muscle fatigue shit.

She glares at the contents of the fridge, like it’s being difficult on purpose. She’s having a rare fit of appetite, but there’s nothing here that she can look at without thinking about how much it will hurt her throat to eat. It’s still burning from forcing down a handful of ibuprofen.

The fridge, it seems, is mocking her.

Before she can give up and skulk back to her room, a soft footfall sends a chill across her skin. Nimona turns immediately to stare at Ballister.

No, her head protests. Bad. Danger. Which is stupid, because that’s her boss.

“Oh, hey, Nim,” he says, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. “Feeling like eating today?”

“Throat’s still awful.”

“Ah. But you’re looking?”

“Mm.” She slams the door. “Nothing decent.”

He sighs. “Nimona, please.”

“What?”

“You haven’t eaten for days.”

“I wasn’t hungry.”

She’s starting to drool now. Her mouth is flooded but it would hurt too much to swallow, so instead she wipes it on her tunic. Her clothes have changed; she‘s not much in the mood for chainmail right now, she formed this morning with a soft pink tunic and similarly soft and darker pink three-quarter trousers.

netherborne @quietly-sleeping, @asha10100101010 @1atteedge, @allofthebeanz, @kitten-kokomo

“For fuck’s sake-”

“They’re dead latches, I can’t do anything about them!”

He growls in frustration, but relents. Lydia sees Jock cringe slightly, clearly not too comfortable with letting him get so close.

“Where are the Maitlands?” she asks hesitantly. She doubts they’d be much calmer about managing five kids, but they’d probably be significantly less hostile.

“Still out looking for you.”

“Well, can you let them know I’m safe?”

“I will fucking get to it, Lydia. I’m doing you a favour here!”

“But-”

“Do you want me to get these cuffs off or not?!”

For the sake of the other girls, Lydia shuts up. This feels incredibly unfair. He’s pissed at her just because she didn’t want to wear a collar? Sure, the consequences of that action were dire, but she didn’t mean to get kidnapped!

[msfcatlover]

Tim walking into Corruption!Damian's room, and gently placing a weird package down on Damian's desk while Damian watches. Tim giving Damian what Tim probably thinks is a meaningful look, taking in Damian's blank expression, and snorting. Tim rolling his eyes and just saying "You're welcome," before walking out again.

Damian has absolutely no idea what to make of it, until the eggs hatch.

A month later, Tim walks in with a slightly different package and does the exact same thing. Desk, stare, "You're welcome." Damian opens his mouth to ask, but Tim's already gone.

Tim keeps doing it, sometimes when Damian's not even in the room; Damian will just open his bedroom door, and there's a new package on his desk. Which would all be weird enough, if it weren't for the fact that the packages are all different. Different labels, different brands, different logos, even different languages on the labels & instructions.

Damian doesn't know what to do with all these moths. He can't let them loose, this isn't their native environment. He can't send them back, they're too fragile; he's terrified something will happen in transit, killing them all. He'd love to adopt them into his swarm, but Damian is unsure of exactly how that would work—he's never added anything, the moths simply chose him— plus, he doesn't know where the limits of his patron's generosity lie. At this point , Damian has more caterpillars than biomass to potentially hold them, and Damian doesn't want to crowd out the few resilient moths he has left, while also making life worse for the new ones.

(Damian probably shouldn't worry about that, given Jane Prentiss had a literal flood of worms at her command, but then, Damian's relationship with his swarm at this point in time is a hell of a lot healthier than Prentiss's. And the Corruption doesn't really do "healthy" in any way shape or form. So maybe he's right to.)

.

Damian ends up with a new greenhouse. He fills it with plants from around Nanda Parbat, but especially caters to the ailanthus trees he has shipped in. A perfect little Eden for his moths to inhabit.

Tim seems annoyed by this outcome. Damian finally loses patience, demanding to know what Tim thought the outcome would be. (What Tim's intentions were.)

Tim frowns, bemused. "You need more genetic diversity." Damian has no idea what he's talking about. "For your swarm," Tim clarifies.

"My swarm is fine!"

"Dames, you told me you had like 10 moths when you made it to Gotham." Tim raises his eyebrows, like he's stating the obvious. "You have to know that's not a healthy number. Right?"

Damian presses a hand to his chest, a protective tic Dick encouraged despite Damian learning years ago not to give away his feelings (especially not when they might risk his swarm.) "They're strong," he says, voice soft but firm, "they survived Grandfather, the Pit, my—recovery." (Damian doesn't like to think about those months, when his swarm was trapped under his skin, re-burrowing their tunnels, unable to spread their wings. The pain of his flesh being re-molded to its chosen purpose was nothing compared to the weeks Damian had thought the creatures he'd poured his whole being into nurturing, the special moths who changed in order to bond just with him, were extinct.) He glares at Tim. "We don't need your help."

"That's not what you said when I got back," Tim says with a smirk, and Damian looks away. Tim sighs. "I was going to stop soon anyway. Just... consider it, okay? None of us wants to deal with it if it turns out they're weak to the flu."

"They're moths," Damian snaps, more on instinct than anything else, "they can't get the flu."

"Actually, modern studies on transmissible disease—"

Damian scoffs and storms off. (Tim pats himself on the back for definitely winning that argument.)

.

Damian does not add Tim's foreign moths to his swarm. But... he does spend a lot of time in the greenhouse, reading or drawing, and letting his swarm run free. (Damian's their Hive, not their keeper. It's none of his business what his moths get up to when he lets them out to play.)

[crepes-suzette-373]

Garuda, Judge, Germa 66, The Divine

@sangerie Perfect timing that you bring up Garuda in your reply, because I remembered a while ago that I didn't check what Judge's current belt looks like when I made that other post and I was just about to make a new post about my findings.

---

I messed up and completely forgot to check when I made that other post. That was just more of an idle thought, though, not something I really wanted to analyse or make theories out of. This one is the (conspiracy) theory/analysis post.

Artistically this is big enough difference that I cannot chalk it off as "simplification/wonky artwork because of image size":

Plus, the "simpler" shape from the MADS flashbacks would be drawn long after the WCI arc. So this has to be a purposeful change on sensei's part.

What was it beforehand and why the change? What is the newer shape supposed to be?

So anyway, that realisation prompted me to look into Karura (the Japanese interpretation of Garuda) because I thought the current belt shape looks like the helmet Judge is wearing, which in turn vaguely reminds me of headdresses in Buddhist gods' statuary.

I think there could be connection between the two in terms of design:

Like, his hair could look reminiscent of the Karura's "fire halo".

The Karura in Japan is a being who is heavily associated with flames (which happens to also look like number 6 spirals in the statue, very interestingly). Some Buddhist teaching even say the Karura either manifests itself as flames, or lends its flames in support to other deities.

Karura's "fire halo" behind Fudou Myou'ou:

This I find to be even more curious, because in the first place Garuda is divine being, and Garuda's "holy flame" is something that purifies evil. Judge seems to be awful in every way, so why give him a nickname that's based on a holy being? Is this just irony, or is this a hint that there's something weird going on that has yet to be revealed? (something in their ancient history?)

Also, about the "69" in the skull's eyes. Even Sanji's Stealth Black/Osoba Mask belt has that "69" element, even if it's in the little wings on the sides and not the skull's eyes. Is that symbol so important that it needs to be everywhere? (to sangerie, if you see this: Niji's belt still has that 69, even much later in the cover story, it just sometimes look wonky in the art because it's too small)

That symbol is known in Japan as "two tomoe" (considered different from yin yang by the Japanese). A tomoe is that comma like shape, and the Germa one is specifically the "right curling" one, because there are versions of it that goes the opposite direction.

A tomoe is also a divine symbol, so it's very frequently seen as the "crest" of shrines. Funnily enough the origin of the tomoe symbol is actually water, but I'm not sure if sensei would go out of his way to research that. If he was using this as a purposeful symbol I feel like he's using it more in the generic divine/shrine related usage.

It's a symbol you see in the drums used by the the Raijin (god of thunder), which also was the design inspiration for Enel.

Interesting thunder/lightning connection there. It's 3, though, and not 2, so I'm not sure if this means anything.

You see that exact symbol with just two in Wano, though it's turned 90 degrees anticlockwise:

I have wondered multiple times if the Vinsmokes have connection to Wano in their past. Even literally just a few hours ago I made a post mentioning the same thing. I always worry that I'm making too deep of a reach, but every now and then I still wonder.

It also has historical connection in Japan, since a two tomoe design is a common samurai crest. I highly doubt it's related to this, but that exact "69" shaped crest is the crest strongly associated with the 47 Ronin.

The interesting thing about the 47 Ronin is that even though they're typically celebrated as heroes who defeated an evil lord even to this day, by historical accounts the 47 ronin were actually the ones in the wrong and the guy they had revenge on wasn't a tyrant or corrupt official. Still, I don't think this has any relevance.

I mean, there's nothing about Germa that suggests that "they seem evil, but actually they're secretly good".

I will admit there is a part of me that is developing a suspicion that there could be a random twist where Germa's whole point was "their motivation/end goal is not bad, but their methods is what's really absolutely disgusting" for various reasons. As in, what if their desire to conquer the North Blue is not just for greed or power, but for a bigger goal beyond it, and this "bigger goal" might not be entirely bad.

I doubt it, because so far everything that we've been shown is just nasty. I'm just automatically suspicious because the World Government labelled them evil, and I don't trust WG.

It could just be something like "they're so evil, that even demons are disgusted", though.

[manias-wordcount]

Hello! Good day/night/evening! Hope your doing well!

Are your requests open at the moment?

If so, I was wondering if you could write some Mishima cus he deserves it!!! He’s soooo underrated I don’t see enough of him :(

Where reader is comforting Mishima and helping him cope right after the events of Kamoshida? Making sure he’s taking care of him self and treating himself right, and reminding him that he has so much worth and that he deserves to be happy!!

Someone to Hold Him (Yuuki Mishima x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗸𝗶 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘂𝗽!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Moments like these make you feel so helpless. Seeing everything that he’s gone through and still goes through makes you feel so helpless. No matter how hard you tried to protect him. No matter how hard you tried to save him. It never seemed to be enough to stop the pain at its source.

  Now, It’s been a couple days since Kamoshida turned himself in. And throughout the school day, Yuuki has been putting up the best front he can muster. He’s trying to smile a bit more. He’s laughing a bit at your jokes. Keeping up the conversation. But he’s still looking over his shoulder. He’s still flinching at loud sounds. Getting lost in thought. And sure, he would take your offers of food and an extra drink from the vending machine in stride. And he’s more than happy to receive your thanks and words of appreciation whenever you slyly slip in an extra compliment or two for him. 

  But you know the truth. Because it screams your name, even when he’s not saying a word. Because it stares you right in the eyes, even when you have your head turned. Because he’s putting up a mask. He just is. Because you know what he looked like before the mask. So you know exactly when he’s putting it on for everyone. For you.

  After all, You know that better than anyone else. You’ve been with him for long enough. You’ve been his friend for even longer than that. But after volleyball practice stopped and the whole thing about Kamoshida blew up in the school’s face, you’ve been seeing Yuuki exist in a way that’s so different than before. Yet somehow- the exact same.

  But today? Today feels a little different. In a way that almost scares you.

  Cutting off the head can only do oh-but-so much sometimes. Cutting off the head can even make two more come back in its place if you’re not careful. But you tried to be. Oh, how you tried to be careful. 

  But despite your best efforts, it started peaking through as you both walked from the school gate to the train station. His hand was warm as he held yours. He drew tiny little circles into the back of your hand with the pad of his thumb. You gave him a squeeze every now and then. But every time you looked at his face, that perpetual tiredness broke through his mask more and more. You could spot a numbness in his eyes. A look of defeat that felt a bit more broken than what you’re used to seeing. 

  It followed him as he got on the train with you in tow. And every attempt to ask him what was wrong was met with the same reaction. A sad smile. Suddenly more alert eyes turn towards you. A kiss to the back of your hand. Another promise that he’s “fine” and that you “don’t need to worry so much.” All that and more before he goes back to staring straight forward and disappearing into his own mind and thoughts and reasonings. Things you have no doubt are plaguing his mental state. 

  So you don’t say anything as your stop comes. You don’t make a move either as you watch it go, hand still wrapped around Yuuki’s. He doesn’t say anything either. But he does move when two stops later, you’re both in his neighborhood. And he does take you by the hand and guide you to his place and let you in once you’re both standing at the door. You end up being the one to greet Mrs. Mishima as Yuuki helps you out of your shoes before leading you further inside. And although you’re only able to catch a small glimpse of each other before you’re led up a flight of stairs. But in the small, small glimpse you both share, a message is sent between the two of you. 

  She knows not to ask. You know not to tell. He’s been hurt by too many people above him. The least you can do is protect him until he’s ready.

  But as he pushes open the door to his bedroom and brings you inside, you can’t help but wonder just when exactly that will be. You’ve been doing your best to stand up for him long before you started dating. But Kamoshida wasn’t a playground bully or a lunch money thief. Kamoshida was a monster. More than a monster. He was the devil himself. And you know you’ve had your fair share of nightmares of him back when his attention was starting to narrow in on you. But Yuuki had it worse. Yuuki had it so, so, so much more worse.

  That’s why you don’t fight him as helps you out of your backpack and tosses it onto his messy bedroom floor. That’s why you don’t fight him as he drops your hand in favor of wrapping his arms around your torso. And that’s why you don’t fight him as he leans and leans and leans back until the two of you are both crashing onto his bed. Arms around each other. Grip nice and tight. Like he’s afraid of losing something. Like he’s afraid of losing you too.

  “Yuuki,” You whisper out quietly. He lets out a shiver as your soft voice passes right by his ear. But he doesn’t verbally respond. Instead, just opting to tangle his legs between yours and to hold you impossibly tighter than before. You let out a quiet sigh and attempt to look at his expression. It’s as numb and as broken and as lost and emotionless as ever. “You’re safe, baby. Okay?”

  But for a second his face twitches

  It’s short. It’s small. But you know him too well. You watch him too well. So you know what to expect when a second later, he draws in a sharp breath. One quiet and slow. But one that does very little to hide the pain in his face. One that does very little to hide the tears welling up in his eyes. And It breaks your heart. Hell, it breaks everything inside you. But you won’t let it show. Because someone has to be strong for him. Someone has to protect him. 

  “Yuuki it’s okay. He’s gone now.”

  Someone has to love him.

  “He can’t hurt you anymore, okay Yuuki?”

  “...o-okay…”

  Especially now that he really needs it most.

[sunny6677]

Title: Caught.

1/?

TWS FOR BLOOD, FIGHTING, PUNCHING, YELLING, PROFANITY, IMPLIED PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC

Summary:

When Kevin goes to check on Tom one night out of worry (with Radford accompanying him), he ends up seeing something that serves as an explanation for what he's been worried about. And it fills him with more rage than he's ever felt in his life.

@mayisgoingnuts @catsockpuppet @paperbagirlratlover @fymo-blogs

————

"..ugh.."

"You alright, dude?"

"...yeah. I'm fine. Mh.."

Kevin looked off to the side, his gaze flickering over to the streets that they walked past as his brain was filled with the endless exhaustions that plagued him at his work shift today. From those damn kids, to the customers.. he hardly had a day of peace. He had gone out with Radford to maybe ease the stress a little, but that still hadn't done anything. And.. well, there was something that came to mind that was the very reason he was walking with him right now.

He hadn't told Radford of the exact details. Of why they'd even be heading to where they were. All he said was that he had wanted to go check on someone since he was a bit worried. And.. that someone's house wasn't exactly far away.

In fact, it was about around the corner if he remembered correctly—from having been on this sidewalk so many times. Visions of the many times he came here flashed in his head. Visions of that person's smile, how they often hung out, and.. well—the markings that had been growing more frequent as of late. They were defintely clumsy, and he didn't doubt that they'd hurt themselves often, but sometimes he sort of—wondered if it was just coming from simple accidents or just running into things.

The breeze enveloped him as the fence that would lead into the street of the house was coming up. And as it was, Kevin blankly looked ahead.

"Hey, uh.." He heard Radford speak from beside him, speaking in a soft manner, "I'm sure she's okay! She just might be getting a little more clumsy. You know how she is."

"..yeah." Kevin sighed, "I just—I wanna make sure. I mean, it's.. not like she'd hide anything from me. But—"

He turned around the corner with Radford, who followed like a duckling following its own mother. Kevin couldn't help but let a sigh escape his mouth again, and he lifted his head. Squinting.

"I just—"

He blinked, feeling his voice die in his throat. Upon seeing two shapes in the distance, he was about to continue speaking, but couldn't seem to bring himself to. Hearing the sound of a masculine voice.. screaming different things he couldn't exactly understand. The taller shape ahead had a hand on the other ones—hair? Yanking with such fierceness as it had a hand gripping the smaller ones shoulder.

Kevin stiffened. The taller shape was a man with brown hair, his hair tied into a low poofy ponytail, and his brows furrowed with such sharpness that Kevin recognized him almost instantly. Only he wasn't wearing his jacket this time. He was practically growling, filling Kevin with the same bitterness he always felt when around him.

The man yelled down at the smaller shape. A girl with curly black hair, and crooked glasses. Redness splattered on her cheek as he grunted out in pain. Something in Kevin's chest began to twist. His eyes wide, realizing that the girl seemed.. familiar.

He raised his brows, something finally clicking in his brain.

Radford watched with the same gaze, his mouth agape as the scene unfolded before him. The unfamiliar man with his grip on the girls hair, his arm gripping her shoulder, and the girls.. the very familiar girls cheek visibly bloodied. The girl he knew.

The man let out another scream—and the girl gasped. "I—am not gonna let you keep ruining things for me! You hear me?!"

He aimed his hand back. Something about this sent a sudden jolt through Radford. A flicker of action through Kevin.

Neither of them knew what had kicked in. It was like a flood of bitterness. Of rage on one's behalf.

Radford was the first to run, his feet practically storming across the sidewalk—with Kevin following behind like a traveling message of sound. Wind rushed past them both as their footsteps filled the ambience surrounding them.

The man had a hand held up still, lowering it toward the girls face.

"You fucking hear me?!"

"Hey!"

The man's aim faltered, his gaze flickering over to Radford. Who hadn't ceased his pace. Who ran with surprising agility.

Seconds away from the man, Radford practically leapt onto the sidewalk—with Kevin following behind and rushing over to the girls side.

Radford raised a hand—letting himself stand before the girl. Even if the man hadn't been moving his hand anymore, Radfords hand grasped his wrist, and forced it into restraint. The man snarled. Yet Radford gave no sign of intimidation.

He didn't know who this was. But he defintely knew by the splatter of blood on the girls cheek that he had to do something here.

In the face of the man's snarl, Radford glared back.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Kevin had jumped onto the sidewalk. Next to the freckled, sniffling girl who appeared startled at his approach. Who looked up with such tearful eyes.

With a frown, Kevin wrapped an arm around her shoulder, holding her up.

He didn't speak a word, flashing her a soft look of distress. Looking at her with such worry as a trickle of redness ran down her cheek.

As Tom looked up at him with such fear, Kevin felt something stir within, and looked ahead at the man whom he already knew the name of.

The man yanked his wrist from Radfords grasp, who stood still with a raise of his head.

"I'm giving her what she deserves—that's what I'm doing!"

He tried to step foward.

"Now stay out of this!"

Radford stepped in his way, spreading his arms out.

"Wh—why the hell should I stay out of this?! She's bleeding!"

"Why do you care? You don't even know what she did!"

"Yeah, but I'm not gonna let you just hit her!"

"Tch—get out of my way!"

Julian raised an arm—aiming it upward and forcefully nudging Radford to the side. It only sent Radford tumbling back a little—staring on with furrowed brows and a slightly startled expression. His own hand quickly clasped over his shoulder from the impact.

Practically marching, Julian walked with such fury. Such hatred and spite in his glare. Seeming so intimidating. It was almost like he was an animal or something.

Kevin felt a trickle of sweat slip down his skin, but.. a quick glance back down at Tom's face.. at how afraid she was and at the mark on her.

The implications of who these markings could have been from all this time.

..any fear he may have had for Julian previously seemed to fade. Replaced with a severe irritation. No.. anger. A more genuine, severe anger than he had ever felt in his life.

"You listen here, Tom—agh—!"

..Kevin didn't know why. It was out of his control. The way his arm aimed back with such quickness, the way his fist clenched, the way he threw—running on nothing but anger for his fuel—all he knew was that his knuckles slammed against Julian's face. And that Julian was sent tumbling back.

[ghostofskywalker]

Please put Fives in a low-stakes situation that resolves well. Trying to cook for the first time, or babysitting, or getting lost in an unfamiliar city, that kind of thing. He had such an unhappy death, I wanna read about him having a happy life

this was such a lovely idea, thank you! he really does deserve more than he got in canon, and i hope you enjoy this :)

words: 711

summary: while on leave, fives and echo do some youngling-sitting for the jedi order.

ao3 link

He didn’t know whose bright idea this was. 

When the general had asked if him and Echo would be willing to help the Jedi out with a favor while the 501st was on leave, Fives would have bet all his credits that it was combat training, storage room reorganization, or some other kind of physically intense grunt work. He certainly didn’t expect to be put in charge of watching 10-15 Jedi younglings. Wait, maybe they weren’t younglings - were they padawans? Or was there another title between the aforementioned two stages of Jedi Knighthood? 

He didn’t know; half of them were probably older than he was anyway. 

Echo was already no help, having found a small group of younglings who had basically imprinted on him, and they were off in the corner doodling together. 

Meanwhile, Fives’ group was made up of the more excitable younglings. He had been trained for the most intense combat situations that GAR could think of, with the primary teachers he worked with on Kamino being ruthless bounty hunters and practically superhuman Jedi, but yet after one game of tag, his only thought was how badly he wanted to lay down and take a week long nap. 

“Come on!” one of the kids said to him, grabbing his arm with what felt like a durasteel grip and not letting go. “We’re going to build a fort!” 

Okay, this was something that he could get interested in. Maybe it would involve less running around, and maybe he could sit down and zone out for a few moments. He almost wished he was back on the front lines of the war, because at least those situations he knew how to deal with. 

One of the kids sneezed, and mere moments later a chorus of “EWWWWWW” sounded from all over the room. Even Echo joined in on that one, and Fives just stared at his twin. What? Echo mouthed from across the room. 

Fives just playfully rolled his eyes, but secretly he couldn’t help but feel some of the infectious joy that being around these kids brought bubbling up in his stomach. So much of his life had been spent in the clutches of danger, but right now the only thing he was worried about was getting told off by Master Yoda for letting the younglings do something they shouldn’t. When the war was over, he decided, he wanted to do something like this more often. Maybe the Jedi would keep letting him come around, and he could spend some of his afternoons getting worn out by the newest younglings and laughing with a joy he never thought was sustainable.

A loud THUNK interrupted his inner thoughts, and his head turned to see a large box fall to the floor from its place on a high shelf, training remotes clattering across the floor as their container made contact. There was one particularly proud looking child staring up at the other boxes on the shelf before raising his hands up again, and Fives knew what was happening in this moment. He had seen General Skywalker stand in the exact same pose, sometimes before using the Force to send the Captain and the Commander flying through the air. 

He tensed as he regarded the training remotes - were those dangerous? He knew that more than half the things they had trained with in Kamino were dangerous if used improperly, these had to be a similar situation. 

However, none of the younglings paid any mind to the equipment scattered across the floor, even pushing it aside to bring the box into a more central location. Other large containers followed, this time filled with blankets, pillows, and spare robes and Fives just sat back and watched as the tiny Jedi worked together to create an (incredibly impressive, if he did say so himself) structure they could hang out and hide away in. As the noise level in the room evened out, he finally got a chance to sit back and just watch as things took shape. 

Maybe the Jedi would be annoyed about how much cleanup they would have to do when all this was said and done, but in this moment, he didn’t really care. 

They had the Force to help them move stuff anyway.

- the end -

[boycritter]

how i fuck with color like that: a hopefully helpful guide

STEP 1: SUSPEND YOUR DISBELIEF

skin doesnt have to be skin color. grass doesnt have to be grass color. free yourself from these shackles.

STEP 2: PICK COLOR PALETTE

pick 3-4 colors you want to be the main colors of your piece, but know you can use transitional shades and stuff like that as well, so you arent limited to those exact 3-4 colors

for this piece, this was the color scheme i went with, but obviously a lot more colors show up! general rule of thumb i follow is 1 dark tone, 1-3 mid tones, and 1 light tone. if you're painting digitally, you can reduce the saturation to check that your values are distinct :3

also if you're painting digitally!! you can use tonal correction (or whatever its called in your art program of choice) to adjust the hue/saturation/luminosity of an entire layer :3 which can be pretty helpful if you think your colors are a liiiittle bit off, but you want to keep the relative saturation/luminosity/etc the same

sometimes i will go to sites like this one for inspiration, but other times i just know what i want to do

STEP 3: FUCK AROUND?? IDK WHAT TO CALL THIS STEP

start slapping down color in the places you want it to go. uhhh i have no good advice for this part i just feel it in my bones. which i know is not super helpful. if you have a reference image, USE IT. its your reference for a reason. you can turn the saturation of it all the way down so you're not distracted by the hues, just pay attention to the value and stuff. don't worry about it looking realistic or smooth, in my experience the blockier the chunks of color, the funkier the piece will look.

STEP 4: FIND OUT !!!!

does it look good! hell yeah! good job! does it not look good? hell yeah! that means you're practicing! identify what you think works and what doesn't, and apply that knowledge in the future! working with a limited color palette definitely takes practice, but if you know basic color theory then you should be in a good starting position (if you dont um. you should learn that? i dont think im qualified to teach that) yeah idk basically you can just refine your piece a bit, i would recommend using a brush that has built in color mixing if you can find one of those, those are good :3

STEP 5: OVERLAYS

if you're painting digitally overlays are YOUR BEST FRIEND!!!! fill bucket tool a whole layer with one of your midtones, reduce opacity, set it to overlay (abt 20% in my experience), this will really unify the colors of the piece

get funky, get fancy, create visual interest. what i do is similar to the first thing, but i take this like. sand tool?

its one of the defaults on csp, but what ill do is i'll draw squiggles with this on a separate layer with all the colors of my color palette, then set it to a 10-20% overlay, and it gives it this grainy texture i think is really cool

piece linked above without any overlays versus with both a plain overlay and grainy overlay

STEP 6: PAT URSELF ON THE BACK FOR DOING SUCH A GOOD JOB AT ART !!!!!!!!!

^ do that. you are awesome and every thing you create is valuable even if you dont like how it turned out. you need to make mistakes to get better and you did such a good job and im proud of you for creating. <3