#For you I went to war/For you I got these scars/For us I stand here now/For us I'll never back down || Post MHA Verse
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truly-quirkless · 4 months ago
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@penandswords asked:
"So I have a surprise." Rima offers a small box them. Inside is her ultrasound, and 2 matching keychains that read. "grandparents."(TWO little blobs)
[Prompted! || Accepting!]
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"You..." He trailed off, sky-blues on the ultrasound. A hand reached into the box, cautiously glancing to Rima, and then back down to the image. Grandparents? Rima was pregnant? "...have you started thinking of baby names?..." He could ask about the man who'd done it later, he didn't want to ruin the moment.
Fin was just in shock that Rima thought of the two of them as grandparents to her potential children. Think of something to say, think of something to say,...
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"If the father's a deadbeat, I'll be kickin' his ass and burying him on U. A. grounds." All spoken with a smile,...and tears that Fin wasn't willing to admit they were shedding. "T-they'll. Never find the body." Stop happy-crying, damnit!!!!
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skyward-floored · 3 months ago
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Whumptober Day 3: (bloody) fingerprints
Warriors and Time as a duo :D
Also, my fics haven’t been showing up for some people (which makes me think I might be shadowbanned -_-) so reblogs are especially appreciated while I try to figure out what’s up. Thanks <3
Warnings: injury, blood, traitor-related angst
Ao3 link
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“—tain!”
Link swam back to awareness at the hazy shout, head pounding and side on fire.
He took in a breath as he awoke, but quickly froze, pain running through him at even that small movement. His breath stuttered and something moved near his head, and his confused mind tried to sort together what exactly was going on.
Someone tilted his head to the side, fingers pressed to his pulse point right next to an old scar. The movement sent a wave of pain up his side and Link sucked in another breath, his very thin hold on lucidity wavering.
A moan escaped him, and Link felt someone pat his shoulder.
“Hey, stay with me captain, you’ll be alright,” a familiar voice said, voice taut with worry, and Link tried to place who it was. His mind went through dozens of scattered faces before settling on one, and he tried to get the features to focus in his mind.
“S... Sprite..?” he slurred, and heard a small laugh that was full of held-back panic.
“Not exactly.”
Link let out another groan, and tried to fight through the haze he was stuck in. He knew deep down that it couldn’t be Mask of all people standing over him because... why?
There was a reason, he knew there was, he just... couldn’t seem to figure it out. Mask wasn’t here anymore. And the reason Mask couldn’t be here, was because... because he...
...he’d gone home.
That... that was right, right, he remembered now. Mask was gone, home to his own time, whenever it was, and Link hadn’t seen him since the war. And the war had been over for a couple years now, and he... he was traveling with different heroes now on a different time-related journey.
And obviously in a fair amount of trouble.
Warriors managed to drag his eyes open and look through blurry vision at whoever was standing over him, catching a glimpse of faint light glinting off of armor.
“Time—” he wheezed, and the man shushed him as he pressed something to his side.
“Don’t speak. Save your strength.”
Warriors coughed, but it turned into a pained gasp as agony shot up his side. His entire body hurt, but his side was the worst, and he could feel something hot and sticky beginning to soak his skin and tunic.
Time gently shushed him again, and brushed a hand across his forehead.
“It’s okay, Captain. Someone will be here any moment, the castle must have seen that,” he murmured reassuringly, and Warriors managed to focus through the pain enough to be confused at his words.
“Wh’ happened?” he managed to get out, “h—”
He broke off into a pained moan, and saw Time’s face grow even more creased.
“You don’t remember?” he said worriedly, and Warriors bit back a cry when his grip shifted.
He didn’t manage to reply, and Time let out a tense sigh.
“We were ambushed,” Time said quietly, and Warriors stared at him. “We’re in your time, I asked if you wanted to take a walk since neither of us were sleeping. We went outside of castle town, but we were followed... they had a magic user with them, and you shoved me away right as they put a barrier around you, I couldn’t do anything until it was too late,” he finished guiltily.
Warriors blinked up at the man staring at him anxiously, and struggled to recall the events he’d just described.
He remembered not wanting to go to bed just yet, enjoying being home again after so long. Time was still up and wanted to get some air, and he’d mentioned they should go for a walk... it got fuzzy after that, but there were flashes. Time acting oddly nervous as he’d tried to tell him something... footsteps following them down the path, ears pricking... the glow of magic and some sort of explosion...
Another wave of pain tore through his side and he choked on a breath, feeling Time grab at his hand.
“You shouldn’t have pushed me out of the way” Time murmured, and Warriors felt a small smile twist his lips.
“Wasn’t t-time... t’warn you...” he whispered, just barely managing to squeeze Time’s hand in his. “I’m... th’ target... H-had to, protect...”
Warriors coughed, and nearly passed out again at the way his side ached.
“S’ my... fault,” he continued in a croak. “Traitors... Couldn’t l-let you... suffer fr’ me.”
Time let out a heavy sigh, the sound thick with an emotion Warriors wasn’t lucid enough to identify.
“You didn’t listen to me back then,” Time murmured, sounding exasperated. Warriors squinted in confusion, and Time let out a another very tired sigh. “There’s something you should know, Captain,” he said softly, and Warriors looked at him, head pounding in time with the pain in his side. “It’s why... I wanted to get out of the castle. I needed to speak to you.”
“Yeah?” Warriors murmured, and Time swallowed.
“During the war, you weren’t the only hero. There were others who were brought there, displaced by time,” he began, and Warriors made a noise of affirmation, unsure of where he was going with this. “Well, I... I was one of them. I fought at your side, Captain. Nearly the entire war.”
Warriors felt his world freeze.
He breathed in a sharp breath as he stared up at Time, meeting the single striking blue eye that was suddenly so familiar. The face he knew so well clicked into his mind again, and Warriors briefly forgot the pain he was so shocked.
That’s impossible.
“Mask?” he breathed, and Time’s face grew just a bit of a smile as he nodded.
Warriors’ eyes widened, and he continued to stare at Time, unable to stop himself from studying his face and trying to pick out the familiar features of Mask. His vision was blurring too much to do a good job of it, but now that he knew, he couldn’t believe he’d never noticed.
“B-been a long time for y-you, huh?” he whispered, ignoring how badly it hurt to speak.
Time smiled. “Much longer for me than for you.”
Warriors chuckled, then his breath caught as a sharp wave of pain rolled through him. Time’s smile quickly faded as Warriors failed to hold back a stuttering cough, and he gave the captain’s hand a bracing squeeze.
Time then closed his eye, and looked like he was desperately trying to control himself. Warriors swallowed back another thick cough, knowing it would hurt, and kept his breathing as steady as he could.
The fiery feeling continued to spread though, heedless of his wishes, and the darkness began to encroach on his vision despite how he tried to resist it.
“Captain, hey, stay with me,” Time said sternly, and Warriors blinked up at him, a smile twitching at his lips. Talking hurt, but he needed to speak, he needed to let Mask know...
“Honor ‘t fight w’ you... again,” Warriors breathed, something wet dripping from his lip. “Missed you Sprite...”
“I missed you too, but you need to stay awake now Captain,” Time said in a more frantic voice, one Warriors had only heard from him once or twice before. Something bad must be happening. “That’s an order Link, open your eyes.”
Warriors didn’t remember closing them, but he did as he said, the commanding voice mixed with old habit making them both crack open.
...for all of a few moments, until they slipped closed again.
“Link. Do not sleep, just hold on, I can see people coming, please Link—”
Warriors somehow managed to raise his hand enough to touch Time’s cheek, blood on his fingertips mixing with a strange wetness on Time’s face.
“L-Love you, kiddo,” Warriors whispered, Time staring at him with both eyes wide, tears shining in them both.
“Me too,” Time croaked, voice wetter than Warriors had ever heard from this version. Warriors shakily smiled, and ran a red-soaked thumb across his brother’s cheek, pride at the man his little sprite had grown up into warming him even as his body grew steadily more cold. “I love you, big brother. Stay with me, please.”
Warriors’ hand slipped from his cheek without his permission, and he barely heard the frantic shouts and approaching footsteps, the pop of a cork...
The only thing he saw was Mask, tears and bloody fingerprints on his face, looking every bit the child Warriors had known back then.
He gave him one last smile, then fell back into oblivion.
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kybercrystals94 · 6 months ago
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Letting Go
Read here on Ao3
Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 6 | Battle Scars
Rated: G | Words: 903 | Summary: Story takes place just before Omega leaves to join the Rebellion.
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Crosshair sits down next to Hunter on the sand. “Omega told me what happened.”
“I’m sure she did,” Hunter says. It comes out harsher than he means it to, but he does not try to take it back. It seems that age has worn down the barriers of his emotions, bitterness and hurt leaking through.
“She said you were being unreasonable, overbearing, and overprotective,” Crosshair continues. “Not to mention your listening skills need some work, because you only care about your side of the argument.”
Hunter’s frown deepens. “Good to know.”
“And I said,” Crosshair goes on, as though Hunter hadn’t spoken, “the same thing I said way back when she was only about this big.” He holds out a hand to demonstrate.
Hunter rolls his eyes, because they never knew Omega when she was that small, but he gets the point.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what I said?”
Hunter sighs. He’s too tired to play this game. “What did you say?”
“Don’t hold it against him. He’s only worried about you.”
Hunter turns to look at Crosshair, surprised. “When did you tell her that?”
“When we were going to Barton IV,” Crosshair replies, digging a toothpick out of his pocket. He puts it between his teeth. “That kid’s always trying to prove herself, isn’t she? That she’s one of us.”
“She is one of us,” Hunter argues.
Crosshair huffs. “Of course she is, but she’s not a soldier, Hunter. She’s our kid, not our brother in arms. I don’t think she’s ever figured out the difference.”
“So she wants to join the Rebellion because she wants to prove herself as a soldier?”
“Not entirely, although I think that is part of it,” Crosshair says.
“And the other part?” Hunter asks.
Crosshair meets his eye. “She might not be a soldier, but she is a fighter. We raised her that way, didn’t we? To stand up for the defenseless, to do what’s right?”
“That’s not…” Hunter stops because his voice gives out, barbed anguish ensnared deep in his throat. He tries to swallow it away, but it is unyielding, so his voice cracks and breaks around it. “That’s not what I want for her. I want her to be safe. I want her to be here.”
A younger Crosshair might have looked away, trying to comfort from arm’s length. But just as time has made carefully constructed emotional walls brittle, time has softened the sharp edges of his brother. The former sniper moves closer, knocking their shoulders together. “I’m scared to lose her too.”
“We fought so hard to get away from war,” Hunter says brokenly, “to get Omega away from war. And she wants to throw herself into another.”
“I don’t want her to go,” Crosshair says. “But I think she’s already made up her mind. I don’t know where she gets her stubbornness from. Certainly not from me.”
Hunter chokes on the laugh that bubbles up through the mire of sorrow. “Hate to break it to you, Cross, but you’ve got a stubborn streak a hundred klicks wide.”
“Do I?” Crosshair muses, and Hunter glances at him in time to see a grin twitch his lips in the moonlight. “Because she reminds me an awful lot of you.”
“I see a little bit of all of us in her,” Hunter admits, “and yet she is still something all her own.”
Crosshair hums in agreement.
“What if she loses that?” Hunter asks. “What if joining the Rebellion steals that spark she’s always had? We changed so much from the time we were cadets and then soldiers. We didn’t have a choice. But Omega does. She doesn’t have to face the horrors we did, experience the pain and suffering. She’s safe here. Why can’t that be enough for her?”
“Omega already has battle scars, Hunter,” Crosshair says. “You think she went unscathed living the life she did before Pabu? The kid’s tougher than she looks.”
“I never said I didn’t think she could handle it,” Hunter argues, “She just shouldn’t have to.”
“She doesn’t have to,” Crosshair says. “She wants to. Whether we like it or not, she’s a grown woman. She needs to make her own decisions. She needs to have her own cause, her own life. She won’t have us forever!”
That last sentence is like a blaster bolt to the heart, a burning, white hot sensation that drives the breath from Hunter’s lungs. But he takes the pain and shoves it deep, turning his grieved anger on Crosshair instead. “So you want her to go. You’re encouraging her.”
“You know that’s not true,” Crosshair bites out, and Hunter can hear the effort his brother puts into controlling his own, retaliating anger. “But it’s not up to us. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. We have to let go.”
Bruised silence solidifies between them, and Hunter can’t find it in himself to disturb it. He should apologize, should appreciate Crosshair’s attempt at playing the mediator in spite of his own feelings on the matter. Why does Hunter feel at odds with every sibling, no matter where they stand on the issue?
“You’re stronger than I am,” Hunter mutters at last. “Omega can just talk to you about it…but with me, it’s a fight. Why?”
Crosshair sighs. “Because she doesn’t want my blessing, Hunter. She wants yours.”
And the last of Hunter’s brittle, emotional barrier crumbles completely.
END
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adoreeenina · 1 year ago
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I wanna be yours - Prologue.
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Relationships: Recom! Miles Quaritch x Sully! Reader x Recom! Lyle Wainfleet
WC: 1.5k
Series Summary: ~~~ 𝗜𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝕋𝕨𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕓𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕗 𝕁𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕊𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕪.
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Peace. That’s what I felt. At this moment. Flying through the sky on my ikran, Rawm. During the eclipse are my favorite time to go, it’s peaceful, beautiful, I could never get tired of the sight. Being away from all the responsibilities, my father, my mother, Tarsem. I sometimes think about my most precious childhood memories.
Childhood memories are sometimes covered and obscured beneath the things that come later, like childhood toys forgotten at the bottom of crammed adult closet, but they are never lost for good.
I remember as a child, my father would tell us stories of the Great War, the Great Toruk, how he and my mother have met. My father says it was “love at first sight” but my mother says different. I always admired their love story, I always thought it was romantic. The outsider and the chiefs daughter falling in a forbidden romance.
We used to play tag, fighting over toys, especially Lo’ak and Kiri, exploring the forest, fighting on who gets to hug dad or mom first when they come back from hunting. That life was full of laughter and so carefree. I was such a daddy’s girl, I looked up to my father like he was my hero, he taught me how shoot my first bow and arrow, how to hunt. I still remember how my first hunt went.
“That’s the one. Over there by the big rocks. There he is” father whispers lowly as he stands behind me. Helping me adjust my arm that held the bow and arrow.
I take a deep breathe in and breathe out steadily as I watch the fish swim before releasing the arrow. Remarkably hitting the fish with one shot.
“You got it! Yeah!” My father celebrated proudly as he claps his hands with giant smile on his face.
I love making my father proud, it made me feel complete.
I’m the oldest of 5 children. I’m first… then Neteyam… Kiri… Lo’ak… and lastly my baby sister Tuk, but she’s no baby no more, and there’s Spider. From what I’ve been told he’s an orphan, his parents were killed by the war. He was too young for cryo, so he was just stuck here. He’s been raised by the human’s at the lab.
I was a bit skeptical when I first met Spider, he was so tiny compared to us, weak. I started warming up to Spider when he would come around often. Lo’ak and Spider are attached to the hip. Being the oldest, I started seeing Spider as a little brother, my family.
As I was getting older, it was no secret that my mother despised Spider. She wasn’t being subtle about it. I heard my father calling Spider a stray cat once. I didn’t know what it meant until I asked Norm.
“It’s when a cat is abandoned and basically finds shelter elsewhere that isn’t it’s home. Most people don’t like stray cats”
It took me a while to understand it and when I did, I felt disgusted with both of my parents behavior towards Spider.
When I got older I asked my grandmother why does my mother hate Spider. That’s how I found out who is Spider’s father.
“You’re going to hate me too?”
“No”
“Why not?”
“Cause you’re my brother”
Spider thought I would hate him cause of who his father was, but I don’t see Spider as his father. Spider isn’t his father. Spider is a child Eywa.
Since then, I’ve been spending more time with Spider, my mother hated it, my father was worried. I’m protective of Spider, I promised myself I would lay my life for him, and I have the scars to prove it.
“Ow, stop pressing too hard” I yelp as my grandmother worked on my wounds on my shoulder and my upper chest with mixed herbs.
“Skxáwng” my grandmother cursed at me.
I was attacked by a Palulukan. I tagged along with Lo’ak and Spider on one of their adventures, to keep them out of trouble. We didn’t realize we came upon their territory. It wasn’t until one jumped at Spider, Lo’ak tried to defend him by shooting an arrow, but the Palulukan armor is too thick to make any real damage. I managed to push them out of the way, by doing that, it managed to claw at my shoulder and upper chest. Both of the boys were worried, I told them to run while I distracted it. Thankfully they did, and I managed to get away but not without a few wounds.
When I got home, both of my parents were worried, mostly my mother, my father was pissed. My mother blamed Spider and my father blames Lo’ak.
Once my grandmother was finished, she left and my mother came in, and that’s when the argument started. She accused Spider. I defended him.
“You could have been killed” my mother snaps.
“I had to protect my brothers”
“Spider is not your brother” my mother seethe. My head snap to glare at her.
“Kiri isn’t my sister by blood. But you took her in as your own. Why is Spider any different.” My mother hissed under her breath at the accusation.
“He is not one of us, he does not belong here. This is not his home.” My jaw clench, ears tipping back, outraged.
“Yes it is. He was born here. This is much as his home as it is ours. He is a child of Eywa.”
“Ma’daughter-“
“No! I’m tired of seeing how poorly you’ve treated Spider. How cold you are towards him. You always treated him with such distaste and unworthy just because of who his father is.”
“He is a demon”
“So is dad!” My mother froze.
“Or did you forget? We! Your children, has demon blood. Kiri’s mother is a demon.” My mother turned away not being able to look at me.
“Look at me!” I snarl. This is the first that I ever talked to my mother this way. I should feel guilty but I don’t, I’m finally letting out all of my lent up rage into her. I turned to leave, stopping short to glance at her over my shoulder.
“You disappoint me, mother” with that, I left.
My parents raised me to have strong beliefs, and stand up to what I believe in. I’m guessing they’re regretting it now.
Since that arguement with my mother, I started pulling away from them. My father tried talking to me but it felt forced. My relationship between my parents had gotten worse.
Since passing my Iknimaya and Uniltaron, my grandmother been teaching me the way of Eywa, to be the next Tsahik. I honestly thought it should’ve been Kiri, I knew she had a gift that I could never compare to, and there’s Tarsem, my father has chosen him to be my mate, to be the next Olo’eyktan. I hated being promised to someone I did not love. I found it unfair how I’m promised to someone when my mother and father mated for love.
I would avoid my training to spend my time with Spider, to get away from all the responsibilities that were forced upon me.
I trust Spider, he’s my brother, we confide our secrets, our feelings with each other. I told him how I felt insecure about my eyes, hands and figure.
Since growing up, I knew I was different but the way I look compared to the other female Na’vi. They are small, extenuating their lithe form, the agile body of Huntresses. I’m more on the curvier side, atleast that’s what the scientist from the lab tells me. I have wider hips and bigger breast than the woman from the clan. I felt insecure, a freak when I’m with the clan, but with Spider, I felt normal.
I was at my happiest when I am with Spider, including my other siblings, but they don’t understand me, not like how Spider understands me. But the thing about happiness? It can vanish in a heartbeat.
Everything was perfect, until they came, the sky people. They burned down our village. Many of our people died that day. my mother was hysterical, seeing everything in flames. I felt my heartbreak seeing nothing but fire, what broke my heart was seeing many of our people in tears, I could hear many of the animals cry in pain and fear.
When I made eye contact with my father, that’s when I knew. We were at war once again.
My father got harder on us, me, Neteyam, and Lo’ak. Specifically me, he yells at me about the oldest, I need to protect my younger siblings. He treated us like soldiers, he forgets that we’re his children.
I sometimes just want to go back to my childhood days and love a stress free life… some days I wish I could go back to my childhood. Not to change anything but to live it all over again.
The only thing that’s been keeping me sane is Spider. Despite what anyone says Spider is my brother, I love him like a brother and if shits gets down, I’ll go to war like he’s my brother.
Masterpost | Next
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incomingalbatross · 2 months ago
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Thoughts on Ghost Days by Jim Butcher (and possibly the earlier books, if they spill over into this post)
All of this is, as Harry observes, absolutely typical of his existence. Of course he can't just die, he gets sent back as a special unknown type of ghost to solve his own murder. And of course he shoulders like three different new obligations, makes a new friend, and adopts a criminal teenager within his first 24 hours of unlife.
Kinda love how quickly and understatedly he's incorporated the very latest familial revelation into his narration. He says something like "I'd lost the scar on my arm that I got while skinning a fish on my grandfather's farm" and it's so casual it almost slips by.
(Side note: I need to see his grandfather and his brother find out about each other now. I realize there has been no opportunity and these aren't exactly Harry's secrets to tell anyway, but please.)
Mort going "all cats can see ghosts, they just don't usually care" checked out completely, of course, but it was also perfect setup for Mister's "HELLO YOU'RE BACK MY HUMAN HI." Which. Oof.
Ways you can tell it's really Harry Dresden: 1) Mister hits him in the invisible shins, 2) he opens the conversation with a Star Wars quote, 3) he's talking a teenager into turning his life around.
Love all the Bob content in this one. Harry got to see how the other half lived and everything. (Though his amorality credentials are slightly tarnished by that heroic last stand of his. Which he'd better have survived.)
Everyone here seems like they're an inch from cracking, and I'm concerned for all of them, but they're DOING THEIR BEST. (Butters isn't an inch from cracking. He seems to be doing great, I'm very proud of him.)
Very glad and also a little amused that the Super Secret Safe Witness Protection Home for Maggie is... the Carpenters. I mean it absolutely should be, but it's also funny.
Of course Mouse exists equally in the physical and spirit world. I'd be more surprised if he didn't.
I DID have several moments where I went what about Thomas. why isn't your narration even mentioning Thomas, but the payoff of "I couldn't stand to face even the thought of what I'd done to him" made it make sense.
More general/Thematic thoughts:
Uriel and/or the narrative really said "You're going to take a good, hard look at the unintended consequences of your actions. And you're going to do it disembodied so you can process a little better."
There was something that really struck me at some points in the Lasciel period, and it's back again now: I love that when Harry crosses lines, not only is he capable of seeing it, but the reaction of the people around him is, "yeah you sure did cross a line! you did wrong. so stop doing it and get better, because you can. this isn't a slippery slope unless you decide it is."
He has! Free will! Contrition is always meaningful! Change is always possible! Harry is never allowed to write himself off. He is always told that he's capable of picking himself up and doing better - because he is. He's alive and human and that means he has as much hope as he chooses to hold onto.
That said, I also really appreciated the weight his choices in the last book are given here. It's so easy to just go along with "it was for Maggie, it was his JOB" (and it was his job), but this book made Harry and us stop and linger on both the lines he crossed and the unintended harm he caused.
(Though he is taking too much weight on himself. Martin maneuvered a lot of this into play, not to mention the ACTUAL Red Court. And there is something to be said for the SG-1 approach of "stop worrying about ramifications and just kill the ancient evil first.")
(Oh, now I remember! I was also thinking of Hunger Games re: this. Katniss and Peeta's defiance of evil was personally motivated and sparked a lot of unintended harm to others - but it was also the only spark that could have destroyed the machinery of evil. Not quite the same but made me think of it.)
ANYWAY. Speaking of crossed lines and harm caused: I was NOT prepared for the murder reveal.
It DOES explain so much about this whole book, especially in combination with the (not as shocking :P) reveal that he's only mostly dead. He NEEDED to know this. He needed to know and understand all the choices he made, and their results - and the lie that influenced him - if he was going to be allowed back to his body.
First, he needed to know there was no outside killer to worry about. He also needed to know that HE did this. All of it. Part of accepting culpability and facing his choices meant facing that there was a third murder on his account - because that is how he frames it - what he did to Molly and what he did to himself and everyone who loved him.
He also, most crucially, needed his free will reasserted, both by the manipulation being revealed to him and by Uriel balancing the scales.
Because a Harry Dresden who had given up on himself as the Winter Knight is a nightmare the world's not ready for.
Instead he's ready to give Mab new problems. :) She gets what she paid for.
Closing thought: If, when he finally gets back to the world of the living, he does not make at least one "mostly dead" and/or "really most sincerely dead" joke, I will be very disappointed in him.
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rurikkirur · 9 months ago
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Drarry/HP headcanons - Pt2
Today I'm going to talk about a headcannon of mine that is a bit different from the most common representations I see in the fandom, and I'll try to explain why I think it would make sense! I got some questions about this in the comments of my fic (DMATAC), so I'll leave my full view on this matter here!
Headcanon #2 - Draco and Harry's relationship with food/cooking It is common to see two scenarios in the fandom: Harry loving to cook and Draco being clueless in the kitchen, or Harry developing an eating disorder (I haven't read fics like this, but I know they're out there). And for me it would be neither of those options... I do believe that Harry would not have a very healty relationship with food/cooking after what he went through at the Dursleys, so Harry loving to cook never really made 100% sense to me. It's not something that bothers me, but I just thought it could have developed the other way around. But I wouldn't go as far as developing an eating disorder mostly because of Molly Weasley, and the role she played in Harry's life. Harry was underfed, and sometimes forced to cook in order to eat, so that's something that leaves emotional scars. But the Weasleys and Hogwarts changed this for Harry to some degree, and I think it could have made Harry actually like to be given food, instead of preparing it himself. He would see it as an act of love and care for him, that would fulfill a need of his 'inner child'. So I believe Harry would dislike cooking, but he would love to eat, and be given food. I like to believe that in his daily life he would mostly eat take-out food from restaurants, and in general he would melt down for anyone that cooked for him. As for Draco, he grew up in the oposite situation and not once in his life he needed to cook, and always had food served to him, as a regular pureblood/rich child. So he would naturally develop into some spoiled 'picky eater', that would always complain about food that was given to him. But I believe this would change after the war. Draco would be broken and emotionally scared after all he went through, so discovering himself capable of small achievements in 'lesser' and 'simpler' activies, such as cooking a dish that he liked, and managing to get the taste that he wanted, and that pleased his picky palate, would give him a sense of satisfaction that could develop into a love for cooking something 'perfect', for his own standards. I like to stand by the idea that Draco is good at potions, and cooking is somehow similar, so Draco could develop great cooking skills. After having his beliefs challenged during the war, Draco might try to cook even as an act of 'rebellion' that would go against who he used to be. Now, you can see how this can work out perfectly for Drarry in a post-war scenario, right? 🤭😏😌 That's my version of their relationship with food/cooking, and the reason why I wrote them like that! 😝
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venomwrites · 2 months ago
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I went back and forth on posting this but does work as a stand-alone for a hypothetical missing fight and I have posted all the other ones here. These are all an attempt to get us to the beats of cannon in the same timeframe, but not have it feel rushed.
They can all be found on Ao3: The Cycle
Vi, rightfully, is furious. 
She wakes spitting venom and lashing out. Caitlyn has tried very, very hard not to think about the moment Vi is fully cognizant. She is certain Vi is going to yell at her, probably about Jinx. She’s just not sure which part of it she’s going to yell about. But Vi zeros in and spits about the arrest. And even though Caitlyn has sworn she is not going to rise to the bait, the arrest is the one thing she did not do. Caitlyn has enough of her own sins Vi can yell about. Caitlyn snaps and Vi snarls and then she just—just leaves. Leaving Caitlyn with an ache in her chest and a low in her gut that screams for something more. 
Caitlyn ignores the urge firmly. 
Until she needs something from her room. 
Part of her prays Vi is going to be gone when she gets there. It’s only a matter of time before she flees. Caitlyn knew she would look at her with hatred when she woke up. She knew but it’s like anticipating a stab. The anticipation makes it hurt all the more. She needs to relax into the pain. Breathe into it. She’s had a long time to drink in Vi. To memorize her scars an features, to think on her actions. Vi has been unconscious the entire time. They are on different levels . Again. At one point that was her worst fear when it came to Vi. Now the image of her body washed in antiseptic with machines breathing for her is permanently brand by behind her eyes. It still aches when she opens the door and the room is predictably empty. The only sign anyone was here is the dangling tube Vi ripped out of her arm. 
“Shit—“
But not the bathroom. 
“Shit. Shit--“ the swearing continues, low and angry. Caitlyn hears the toilet paper spin through the door, “fuck.”
“Vi,” she raps on the door, “may I come in?”
“No!” the answer is snarled though the door. 
“No?” Caitlyn repeats, “Vi, the bleeding is not going to stop,” the toilet paper roll stops spinning, “it’s me or my father. Which do you want?”
What is she still doing here?
“Fine!” 
Caitlyn opens the door easily. Vi is standing in front of the toilet closet, ball of toilet paper in her hand. There’s red spotted paper everywhere. Red across Vi’s stomach. Caitlyn has sworn things will go slow, she will give Vi everything she needs. But her heart clenches at the splatter and before she can stop herself she’s in front of Vi, shoving her shirt up to check the bandage. Vi jumps back at the touch like Caitlyn has burned her. All the fears Caitlyn had about being the one to touch her come roaring back as Vi puts several steps between them. Her face is twisted, lip curled. She looks like a snarl made human. 
“Sorry,” Caitlyn says quickly, “I thought—“
“I didn’t tear those!” Vi snarls, “I’m not that useless.”
“I never said that!” Caitlyn shoots back. 
“Your face did!” Her tone pitches in volume, “I guess you were too busy arresting my sister!”
“She surrendered!” Caitlyn screams right back. 
“I bet you just loved that!” Vi continues, ignoring Caitlyn’s very fair point, “how many wet dreams have you had about her surrendering?!” Caitlyn reels with the accusation and something cruel sparks in Vi’s eyes, “So you got your satisfaction because Caitlyn Kiramman always gets what she wants in the end and us Undercity scum are just left following in your wake!” 
Caitlyn screams. 
She can’t help it. t’s like she’s been holding her breath this entire time. Maybe since her mother died. Certainly she’s been holding it while Vi lays and dies, while she brings endless trays to Jinx and tries to sort out the entire mess she’s gotten them into. She’s reshaped the world with her grief, brought them to the brink of war. And somehow that is easier to reconcile than the helplessness of watching Vi lay there. Of hearing the truths from Jinx’s lips. It rips from her chest in one brutal noise that echoes around the bathroom. 
She hasn’t screamed in here since Jinx clawed her fingers around her mouth and cut the sound off. 
This one just echoes around the vast space. Over the blood soaked tissues and the woman in front of her who Caitlyn loves but doesn’t love her back. Who thinks she is horrible and doesn’t know that Caitlyn has been fighting her way back this entire time. That the mere memory of Vi’s love is enough to carry her through. But she cannot say that. She cannot force the apology from her lips so she just howls. 
She grips the lip of the sink afterwards, panting like she’s run for miles. Like they are back on that battlefield and she is dragging Vi away. She is vaguely aware of Vi standing there staring at her. She drags her eyes up to the mirror. Vi’s remain locked on her. Confusion has wiped across the rage. Whatever response she was expecting from Caitlyn, apparently her screaming was not it. Caitlyn tries to collect herself as Vi watches her in confusion. Unsure of what to do. Of course she is unsure, it’s the first time she’s been upright for any stretch of time. Caitlyn does not know how she is standing. The blood loss is not helping matters. 
“I apologize,” she says, collecting herself, “you’re right. May I see your arm?”
Vi thrusts it out wordlessly. Probably to get out of the bathroom as quickly as she possibly can. Caitlyn doesn’t blame her. Vi has angrily ripped out the catheter. Caitlyn’s actions have once again torn at her. Caitlyn guides her elbow over to the sink and opens the medicine cabinet to pull out the hemostatic gauze. Things go almost automatic. She places it on the crook of Vi’s elbow and curls her arm around it. It’s like moving automatically as she undoes the wrist brace with one hand and puts it aside to wipe clean. She wets regular paper and wipes the blood from Vi’s wrist, careful not to get anything else wet. 
Then she remembers Vi is watching her. 
“Sorry—“
“Stop apologizing,” Vi cuts her off, “you—seem better at this,” her eyes narrow, “Ambessa give you time to have hobbies?”
“My father is a doctor,” she reminds Vi. 
“Bullshit, I’ve seen your patch jobs, Cupcake,” she says, “this is new.”
Caitlyn checks the pad, pleased with the progress before she returns he hand to Vi’s elbow to keep it up.  Instead of the smooth, familiar skin of Vi’s elbow, her hand meets Vi’s own. That snaps her back into the present. Vi is awake. She can hold up her own elbow. Caitlyn has just gone on automatic given how many times she has cleaned Vi up. Vi is considering something. Her eyes drag around the bathroom and she peers over Caitlyn’s shoulder. The entire time her elbow remains around the gauze, arm lifted above her heart. Her eyes lock onto Caitlyns.
“You’ve been taking care of me?” 
“Yes,” Caitlyn says, “I’m sorry I know this was an overstep. I wanted to make you as comfortable as possible. You’ve been under the care of doctors. Not my father.” 
“And this?” She says, jerking her head to the bandage. 
“I thought you wouldn’t like a stranger touching you. Or you would like that less than if I did,” Caitlyn says, “we worked together,” she tries to justify, “so I thought I was the better option.” 
Vi looks away. Caitlyn hates that she cannot look at her. All this time she only wanted Vi’s eyes to be open. Now she wishes desperately they could look at her. What right does she have to want anything from Vi? She turns to the wrist brace and focuses on wiping it clean. She can do this at least. While Vi gathers her strength to yell at her like Caitlyn deserves. She dries the brace with one of the cloths by the sink and offers it to Vi. She can ask someone else for help. Then she can come back and yell some more. Caitlyn can at least let her have that. 
Vi offers her wrist instead. 
“Yeah, you’re right,” she says quietly, “I would have hated that.” 
Caitlyn focuses only on Vi’s wrist as she tries to do the brace up without touching her. Vi’s arm wiggles and she immediately flattens her hand along the join, supporting it. Like when Vi was limp. She looks up to see something satisfied on Vi’s face at the contact. Caitlyn feels her own face get hot as she tuns back to the wrist in her hand, easing the brace on it and doing it up. Vi straightens her arm fully and lets Caitlyn wind the gauze the rest of the way around the injury. 
“Why?” Vi blurts out abruptly, catching Caitlyn off guard, “I was unconscious, why did what I want matter?” 
She’ll go to the ends of the earth for the people she loves. 
“What you want always matters,” she says, “I know I haven’t been the best at showing you that lately. For that I am sorry.” 
Vi stares at her in total confusion. Suddenly everything between them seems to fall away. It’s like they are back in the bedroom, Vi in her red jack and her in her purple dress. Vi is staring at her like she has reached into a place she did not even know existed. It sends a warm feeling through Caitlyn’s chest. Surprising someone as brave as Vi, someone who tries to plan for the worst case in every scenario. But still tries anyway. Caitlyn’s never impressed anyone like that, not in a way that means something. Vi doesn’t leave the bathroom when Caitlyn finishes. Instead she joins her next to the sink. They both lean against it silently, but close enough to feel Vi’s warmth. 
“So that scream—
“I don’t know what that was,” Caitlyn starts.
“How long you been holding that in?” Vi asks. 
Caitlyn sighs. 
“Probably since my mother’s funeral,” she admits. 
Vi nods. 
The feel of her thigh next to hers catches Caitlyn off guard. Vi doesn’t look at her, doesn’t acknowledge that she’s moved closer. But something warm curls through her belly. She has spent so long touching Vi in a practical way. A chaste way. Now Vi is not limp, not choiceness. And she chooses to press her thigh to Caitlyns. To stand next to her in the bathroom. Instead of doing what she wants to do and run off to see her sister. Some part of her wants to be here with Caitlyn. 
What will you do if she chooses me?
It’s hard to be loved like that.
“That’s a long time,” Vi says finally. 
Caitlyn nods. Vi opens her mouth and then closes it, blowing out a breath. The question hovering. 
“She’s as fine as I’ve seen her,” Caitlyn says, “I got her to eat every third day at minimum. We talked.”
Vi’s eyes go wide and hungry. 
“You talked?” She says, “with words?”
“Yes,” Caitlyn says. 
Vi looks like she cannot comprehend what is being said. 
“Bullshit,” she says but there’s no anger there, “what did you talk about?”
She loves you.
Do you love her?
Will you still love her?
“How your sister almost blew me up when I ruined your job in Jayce’s lab,” she says instead. 
“Wait, what?!”
Caitlyn inclines her head. Vi’s disbelief mirrors her own. It helps given how annoyed Jinx looked. Apparently she is not the only one who cannot wrap her head around the idea. Surely the pair of them have to be right and Jinx is just—too smart for her own good. Vi turns fully towards her, breaking the contact and staring at her in disbelief. But she knows exactly what she is talking about. Caitlyn can practically see her flipping though her memories, trying to pinpoint the moment. 
“I dropped something from a box.”
A surprised laugh leaves Vi’s lips. A sound Caitlyn wasn’t sure if she would ever hear again. Especially with her speaking. She can see the recognition plain on Vi’s face. Recognition and warmth and something more. Something Caitlyn can’t quite put her finger on. But something she wants to see more of in those alert grey eyes.
“That was you?” She nods, “you scared the crap out of me, Cupcake,” Vi says. 
The nickname cuts through Caitlyn’s core Cupcake. She likes it so much when Vi calls her Cupcake now. She really is turning into such a sap. Caitlyn knows it has nothing to do with the nickname. It has to do with the way Vi’s eyes light when she says it, the way her mouth twists like she’s proud of thinking of it. 
“Then I guess we’re even,” she says. Vi goes silent. Considers her with those sharp grey eyes of hers, “About that an—“
Vi touches her knee. 
“Yeah,” Vi cuts in, “think we’re even.”
She will never, ever be worthy of this love. 
But she will spend the rest of her life trying to be. 
“I need to go take care of some things,” she says getting to her feet. 
Vi watches her with some confusion. Caitlyn hates to break the contact. But she knows her time is running out. Vi trails her out of the bathroom and watches as she goes into the closet and puts a fresh shirt in front of her. Vi is already in her boots. Caitlyn goes to the door. Everything in her wants to stay in that room with Vi gently touching her knee. But this is not about what she wants. She has taken enough. Vi would willingly give her the world without a second thought. Caitlyn refuses to let that happen. 
“I know it may be too soon to speak about the upcoming battle,” she says, “but if you need to find me I will be at the Hexgate with all the guards.”
Vi inhales sharply. 
“When will you be back?” She asks, voice tight. 
“I don’t know,” Caitlyn says. 
She reaches into the bedside drawer and produces a small bottle of white tablets, placing them on the table next to Vi. 
“These should help with the pain if you are moving around too much,” she says.
She walks to the door.
Vi’s eyes are hot on her neck. There is so much Caitlyn wants to say. So much she wants to repeat. She wants to tell Vi everything, make her understand the answer to Jinx's question has always been 'I will love you anyway'. But this is not about her. And Vi has given enough. So Caitlyn gathers up the part of her that wants to beg Vi to please not go far. Or to please come back. Or to please stay, since she just got here. Since Caitlyn loves her more than she knew she could. But right now that is not what Vi needs. She needs what some part of her has always needed. She needs to go get her sister. 
"Don't pull or lift anything heavy," she says instead, "nothing more than opening a door."
Then she opens her own and walks away. 
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themultiuniversal · 1 year ago
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I think it's a shame that The Boy and The Heron was released under that name rather than the original Japanese title "How do you live?" because that's literally the theme and the core message of the film.
Like, I spent a good few hours after I finished watching it puzzling over the film's themes because at first glance it looked like it had a million different themes and most of them either didn't resolve by the end, happened only briefly, or appeared out of thin air in the last half of the film.
(Heavy spoilers under cut)
So the first part of the film discussed the effects of war, loss, and acceptance in typical ghibli fashion as Mahito lost his mother and struggled to move on past it. There's also a dash of classism, self-harm, and masculinity when Mahito went to the new school looking obviously like a rich kid, gets beat up for it, then hit himself with a rock in, what i assume, is either an attempt to not go school to avoid the other kids or to look to his father like he actually put up a fight and didnt just got away with light bruises in a misguided attempt to look tough/masculine.
In the second part he went into the tower world and there's the topic of death/life (with the warawara and the noble pelican), taboos, leaving a legacy behind (as the great granduncle wants to leave the world behind to Mahito and let him decide how to build it forward), self-worth (Mahito denying the offer and choosing to go back to the world because the scar was a sign of his "malice" which he thought could affect this new world), and plot thread of loss/acceptance is tied together as Mahito accepts Natsuko as his new mother and choose to return to the world.
And for the life of me I couldn't figure out how the whole thing ties together. It felt like there's a divide in the middle, around when Mahito found Natsuko then blacked out and met his great granduncle, where the films kind of shifts from one set of themes to another.
*mini aside*
(I also felt like the worldbuilding/settings kind of changed around here. Initially the world was an afterlife of sorts with dead people and warawara as reincarnated souls. Human visitors gets attacked by the pelicans unless guarded by the blue heron, a stand in for the reaper/boatman/charon who guides and guards souls to the underworld. Then at the end it turned into a world created by the great granduncle using the power of the stone, with the whole afterlife dealio just being discarded. Like, when the parakeets were first introduced they were at the blacksmith and it was implied they weren't meant to be there - so who occupied the blacksmith in the first place? The dead people? Were there other people there? I assume not since you need to get to the tower and there's the whole bit about the blue heron bringing you in so why would there be other people there? So who was in that house???)
(Also the parakeets were going to use himi to bargain for more power and stuff but the king just brought her up to the great granduncle, told him "yo, mahito did a taboo", then kinda left without asking anything before immediately sneaking back and destroying all the stones??? What was up with that???)
*end of aside*
Anyway, so I couldn't figure out how it all tied together until I remembered the original japanese name for the film.
"How do you live?"
And it clicked.
Mahito was struggling with that very question in the first part. His mother died. There's war. Life sucks. School sucks. How do you live?
And through all his adventures he kind of accepted all that and made peace with it. He made friends. He appreciated the people around them for who they are. He rejected his great granduncle's offer of a perfect world he can control in favour of the real world with all the people he loved, despite the war, the suffering, the evil, and everything. Himi rejected Mahito's offer of going to his time with him despite knowing her fate because she know that, regardless, she will have lived a happy life.
They answered the question - "How do you live?"
And it's a bloody shame that core context, that crux of the story, got changed in the English release.
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verdemoun · 4 months ago
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What happens if the gang was found a document show about the reform school sean went to? Since sean never goes into detail what happen to him, what would their reaction/responses be?
Like, say there trying to find something to watch and they find this documentary about reforms schools, “oh, didn’t sean mention he went to one? Maybe we should watch it” and then they see a photo of one of the classes and then boom!! It’s a picture of sean
(Sorry this is weird or makes so sense)
People also forget Bill canonically went to reform school too.
Sean's started to drop some reform school lore, see here and here.
Lenny would get curious because despite it having been 12 years since Sean timewarped, and therefore decades since reform school, the subject still comes up the second Bill and Sean decide to go for a drink together not long after Bill timewarps.
Bill and Sean had always been able to talk in a way the gang hadn't understood, but the pair hadn't actually made the connection they both went to reform school until after timewarping and were very quick to discuss war stories and the horrors they endured in hushed whispers and dark humored laughter.
Lenny, politely eavesdropping as a concerned partner (it's always a concern when Sean starts drinking hard, considering how long it's been since he cut back to drinking socially) finally catches the name of the reform school Sean went to.
Lenny starts obsessing. Even in 1899, they knew what reform school usually meant. He'd watched documentaries, most about schools in the 20th century. He'd privately had nightmares about what Sean might have gone through. He thinks he has an idea. But now he has a name.
Not a lot of documentaries exist from that time period. But documents? Specifically state reports and judicial inquiries into abuse in those institutions that a college professor would have significantly easier access to?
Lenny is reading a 900-page report about Sean's reform school - the abuse, the horror endured by children at the hands of staff and other children during the years Sean must've been there. And then there's a photo: Reformee 1-8-4-8. Ironic: that's Sean's pin number. There's a lot of photos, none of a face.
There's something sickly nostalgic about old photos. Because to the gang, they're not really old. Images in sepia, blurred by motion - that's how photos looked to them. It's looking at a photo the way they're meant to be looked at for the gang, the way they grew up with and knew photographs.
Except Lenny can recognise those freckles. Not really freckles: moles. Those distinct spots that look almost black in grainy 1890s photographs. And fresh, bloody whip marks that he recognizes as faint scars running along Sean's lower back.
Lenny spent days reading the testimony of reformee 1-8-4-8. He read about being locked in the chapel cells - not cellar, cells, no different to prison cells, for days or weeks with only bread and water. Straitjackets with gags that left boys almost immobilized but if they found the strength to stand they would be punished with another day of the jacket. Sweatboxes, ironically named, where they were locked in boxes as small as coffins and hosed with cold water until they agreed to submit or froze to death. Boys in the shoe shop made to tan the leather straps that would later be used to beat them. The things that happened in the night.
He reads the testimony of an anonymous victim of this reform school, and then he sees his husband: happy, safe, laughing as he gives his daughter a piggy back ride around the room and whines to Karen that he's hungry only to be met with the typical onslaught of 'I have to get Maeve ready for school pick her up from school entertain her after school and all you do is deliver pizzas. If you're so hungry you should've got something from work!!'.
That night, Sean crawls into bed and kisses him with the same 'maybe?' grin he always has. And Lenny rubs the small of his back under his shirt, not to much feeling the scars but the way the muscle of Sean's back rises between each ridge.
And he tells him he's there, if he ever wanted to talk - about anything. About reform school, about the Ike Skelding gang, about 1899, Lenny will always listen.
Sean pauses for all of a second. A long second, but a second, before he laughs and says why would he want to when the now, the present, was all he wanted?
Lenny laughed, wrapped his arms around his husband, and watched the heavy rise and fall of Sean's chest as he fell asleep. Lenny did not. He laid awake, wondering if timewarp was a second chance for some more than others.
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liquid-luck-00 · 1 year ago
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Marks of Magic
Day 3 Curse of Maribat Spooktober 2023
First *** Previous *** Next
Language and cursing is used
1470 words
~~~~~~~~~~
On one hand her parents were supportive and agreed that her taking time away from Paris would be good for her. So they helped her pack on Saturday night, seeing as she was leaving very early on Monday morning.
She didn't hear anything about Gabriel Agreste, but there were whispers wondering why Hawkmoth was quiet.
No she hasn't said anything, except to Luka, no one else knows that the war in Paris is over. There was no way she could after all. She couldn't become Ladybug, and she couldn't do it as Mari without her life turning upside down. Hopefully the people of Paris will believe the miraculous went dormant.
Hopefully.
Sunday she tried to adjust to E.S.T. so she wouldn't be too jet lagged on Monday. And it worked to an extent, mostly she got some much needed sleep and was able to make it through with a cup of coffee.
There was only enough time for her to set her things in the apartment, that was provided with the transfer program, and change into the uniform before leaving again.
She grabbed her backpack and left for the Academy, which was less than a block away.
She arrived a bit early and made her way to the office.
"Hello?" She called out to the empty office.
"Oh! Hi there." A woman popped her head out of an adjoining room. "How can I help you?"
"I’m here to pick up my schedule."
"Oh the new transfer student."
"That would be me." She smiled at the woman who had moved to the desk by the door.
"Your name please, hun."
"Marinette Dupain-Cheng."
"And here we go, and you’ll need this too." She printed out a paper and pulled a second from a cabinet. She grabbed a pen from a cup and started marking a map she had pulled out. "Here we go, sweetie."
"Thank you, madame."
She called as she left the office and stepped into the hall.
She easily found her home room class, the door was slightly ajar. Inside the teacher was at his desk and a single student was in the classroom, the others she passed in the courtyard and hallways.
"Hello Mr. Argyle."
The teacher looked up. "You’re the new student?"
"Yes sir."
"Only desk open is next to Mr. Todd." He pointed at the boy who was currently reading. Before promptly ignoring her and continued reading over the papers in front of him.
So she started walking towards the boy, Todd she recalled he was called.
"Hello." She smiled at him as she was about to put her bag down.
"Fuck off." He responded without even looking at her.
She blinked, and before she could think her mouth moved before her brain could process wether it would be an appropriate response.
"Well aren’t you charming." She set her things down and pulled out her sketch book. "And for the record, this is apparently the only open seat."
"You’re new, aren’t you?"
"Really! What gave it away?" She snorted, before looking over. He was staring at her as if she were a puzzle. Once the silence between them stretch a bit to long she quirked a brow, which broke him from his daze.
"Sorry about that, habit'.'
He rubbed the back of his neck. His black hair was messy, styled up out of his face. His eyes a blue, lighter than her own, with flecks of green. A small scar ran through his upper lip, as of he had been in a fight.
"It’s fine, I wasn’t much better after all." Her lips flicked in a small short smile. "Marinette."
"Jason."
They each turned towards their silent time occupants, until the bell rang a few minutes later. Their classmates started to file in and take their seats, where Mari was instantly pounced on, a group of students flocked the table to ask questions.
"Class is about to start, so sit down."
"No one was talking to you." A red haired girl with green eyes snapped at Jason, Alice she introduced herself as.
"You don’t want to rub off on the poor girl." A boy with blonde hair and grey eyes followed.
"Why are you talking to him like that?" She had to ask.
"He’s cursed no one can stand sitting at the same desk everyone has to transfer to another class within a week." Alice explained as if she was stupid.
"He’s a street rat and doesn’t belong. That’s all there is to it." Mathew, the boy sneered.
Great they really are everywhere. Now that is a real curse not whatever they think this is.
She looked behind her towards Jason. When she did he jumped out of his seat, hands balled into fists.
"I’ll show you what a street rat can do to you, a pansy rich kid." Jason snarled.
"Just cause you were adopted by someone in our circle." He motioned towards the rest of the room. "Doesn’t mean you have class."
Jason was pulling back as of to throw a punch, but she was unfortunately between both boys at the moment.
"Then why don’t you lead by example." That took everyone by surprise, so much Jason froze mid swing.
"Boys!" The teacher finally decided to intervene. "Everyone in your seats now!"
There was some grumbling among the students but she learned quite a bit from that.
One, there was a hierarchy, just like DuPont, but here it was measured by wealth than by achievement.
Two, Alice and Mathew were the queen and king, no one else tried to stop or say a thing.
Three, the teachers might actually do something, but only if things were getting out of control.
Well it’s a start, she took a breath as Mr. Argyle took attendance. Home room is just quiet time slash study hall after all so she looked down at her sketch book. She pulled her new journa from her bag and flipped to the first empty page. Which she placed between the two of them.
M. They are just assholes, don’t let it get under your skin.
Jason glanced at the words before stealing a glance at her.
J. They aren’t wrong.
M. That doesn’t mean they have to tear you down.
He lifted the pen almost going to write but stopped. She almost thought to write more when he did.
J. It doesn’t matter, you aren’t going to be her long anyways.
He turned to the book in front of him ignoring her completely. She doesn’t know why those words stung as hard as they did. She is only here for a semester, and in the long run that’s not long at all. Maybe it's because he might believe he is cursed. But she could guess why if the snippets of gossip the two shared was actually true.
Everyone ostracized him because of his early upbringing, thinking he is lesser, but she has a feeling that’s not the case.
Homeroom was coming to a close so she pulled out her map and schedule to see what was next. Ancient history to the 16th century, at least she wasn’t studying American history, that would kill her.
The bell rang and she started gathering her things.
"I can take you."
"I’m sorry?"
She looked at Jason. "History I’ve got it next too."
"Oh. That would be great." She smiled grateful he was at least talking to her.
"Seriously girl, you don’t want to become a social pariah on your first day, do you?" She heard Alice sneer, those words pulled memories from Paris that she really didn't want brought up right now.
Resulting in her sassing off like she was talking to her ex-friends in Paris. "If the alternative is kissing up to you I’ll pass, let’s go."
She practically marched out of the room, pulling Jason out of the room by his sleeve cuff.
"She’s right you know."
"People like her are insufferable. Why are there bullies everywhere I go! I swear I’m cursed to cross paths with them." She walked beside him, pouting as he led the way.
"Let me see your schedule." She handed him the page, and soon she heard him laughing.
"What’s so funny?"
"We have the same class schedule, which means you’ll have three more classes with her."
"Ugh." She deflated, then a thought occurred to her. "That means you’ll be there too, and you are so far the least insufferable person I’ve met so far." She smirked at him.
"Oh well that has to change." A smirk on his lips flashed as well. "I can be plenty insufferable."
Well this isn't going to be half as boring as she feared. In fact its shaping up to be a blast. Who cares what some stuck up rich kids think about her anyways. She is the savior of Paris and she decides how her life will unfold.
Next
~~~~~~~~~~
Tag list:
@jennifer-rose123
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bentosandbox · 1 year ago
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Chen (guard) module 2 TL
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Towards the past
The scars of the land run from across the horizon, striking a Victorian building complex with such precision the structures collapsed in a radial pattern around a singular point, like a cyclone-struck forest. Amidst the ruins of this miniscule empire, two figures clamber up a fallen monolith trying to find a vantage point.
"Just how long has this place been deserted?" Chen stands on the ruins gazing into the distance, the stone slabs behind her once displaying names as symbols of honour, now all worn out beyond recognition.
"They abandoned this area ever since the war broke out, and the juniors still studying were all shuttled to the new campus to finish their classes... That's our old training grounds in front of us, Chenchen. Remember?" Bagpipe's voice travels from below.
"All too well. Always felt like we missed out on some good stuff when we were students. They fixed up both the road and the grounds only after graduation."
A shockwave had splintered the training grounds into separate chunks. Chen picks up a rock and throws it into a bush that had sprung up from the crevices, sending the resident featherbeasts screeching and fluttering away into the distance.
"Come on, it was already good enough then." Bagpipe's voice came from far away, lingering in Chen's ears.
"I suppose. That was probably the most simple time in my life. I only had to concentrate on training and studying with no troublesome problems to think of."
"So that's what got you spending all day everyday in a training frenzy and acing all our common subjects?" Bagpipe puts her hands on Chen's shoulders, shaking her gently.
"After I went back, I realised there were too many things a sword alone could not solve. And sometimes, even if I worked my hardest, there were so many things I couldn't change, and I just felt so insignificant—sometimes simply destroying the enemy doesn't solve the problem." Chen shakes her head, as if trying to throw out all the complex thoughts from the past out of her mind.
The two of them walk down the high slope, the flower garden from their memories still present.
The Guard School sign once raised up high was now half sunken in the dirt, leaning against a broken stone pillar. The sunlight pours down on the rusty signage as the sun sets, and what little lustre reflecting off the metal testifies to the place's former glory.
"Everything's changed... Victoria included, right?" Chen mumbles to herself as she stares at the school crest.
"Some people never change, though. I made sure to visit Instructor Taylor a few days before when I knew you were coming. Back then, you left so quick you left behind all your papers and stuff behind in the dorm—and she's kept it all safe all these years. Here's your school certs. Oh right, and this too!"
Bagpipe pulls out a stack of documents from her carry-on along with a wooden sword.
"This here's your training sword from back then. Technically it's school property, but your grades were so good the instructor wanted to give it to you as a surprise gift..."
"Thank her for me. I left so quickly back then..."
"At least you've come back. In these last few years, many of our classmates... they won't ever get to."
The two were silent for a moment.
"Where do you reckon you'll be in ten years?"
"Who knows. I have to go back, there's still so much to do." Chen looks into the distance, in Lungmen's direction. "Back then, it was them who decided for me to come and leave here, but now, I'm going back on my own accord."
————————
i know lore =/= gameplay but the idea of a wooden sword giving 70 DEF ignore is so funny uhm this was so good chenpipe besties froever
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rip-us-xoxo · 2 years ago
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Hello! Could I request a fred × reader after the war (fred survives) where reader is too overwhelmed with everything that was going on so they decide to move to LA and start a new life?
This is super interesting! Thank you for requesting, I went more angsty with this one so hope you enjoy it!
WARNINGS- Mentions of Fred (almost) dying
~~~~~
Molly wasn’t happy but she knew it was for the best. She could tell you and Fred needed a fresh start. When you two would go over for dinner, you just weren’t the same happy couple you were before.
The couple that made everyone jealous. You two made each other genuinely happy, and now there was just gloom looming around you both.
Fred was hurt physically, the scars on his face and body making that obvious. Meanwhile, you always seemed on edge, constantly clinging onto Fred, or not even being able to look in anyone's direction. Even George could tell something needed to change.
When he would come home, silence filled where laughter used to be or you were crying in your and Fred’s room while he tried to console you. But, Fred wasn’t much better. He had constant nightmares and always had a blank stare on his face, probably thinking about the battle. As much as George wanted to help, he didn’t know how. He was also scarred from the battle. Everyone was.
Fred was proclaimed dead for 2 whole minutes before you restarted his heart in desperation. It was the worst pain and fear anyone had ever gone through. George almost lost his twin.
So, as much as it hurt him to see you two go, he knew people had different ways of coping with trauma, and this seemed like the best option for you two, starting over.
When you guys arrived in LA, you guys had no idea what you were doing. You were in the muggle world, something you two were not familiar with. But, Fred’s reassuring kiss as you two arrived gave you the confidence that everything was going to be okay.
You were quickly proved wrong when you two got jobs. The apartment you rented was more expensive than you two planned for, so there was no time for adjustment, you two needed jobs right away.
Fred found a kid's toy shop to work at. He helped to design toys at their main office, which he thought would be easy. It ended up being 10-hour days, 4 days a week. But, he usually ended up going in on Friday too since he was the best there.
As bad as you felt for Fred, your job wasn’t any better. You looked to a small coffee shop for work. You wanted something low-stress and you thought you found that. But, you didn’t realize that most people in LA must run on 3 hours of sleep because you were busy with angry, tired, customers constantly. It had become so much, in fact, that you couldn’t handle it anymore and quit a month in. Which is how you got into this situation.
You waited on the couch, anxiously. Fred was supposed to be home 30 minutes ago. He was most likely just held up at work but you couldn’t help but think the worst since it’s almost happened once.
You were wrapped in a blanket, watching a show on your new muggle television, when you heard the door open. You immediately stood up and ran for the door. But what you didn’t expect was for you to see his smiling face and start crying.
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, dropping his coat and running to hug your body that was now dropped to the floor. “Everything!” you sobbed. “Okay, okay,” he consoled as he helped you stand up, “let’s go sit down.”. You tried to calm down as you walked, but the moment you sat down and looked up to make eye contact with him, the waterworks started up again.
“Why is everything wrong?” he asked as he tried to move hair out of your face. His heart was breaking. “We sh-should’ve never moved,” you cried, refusing to look at him. “Why?” he asked, now caressing your thigh.
“We moved here to have a fresh start and n-now you’re miserable because of that job and I’m not helping because I just sit h-here all day because I couldn’t handle the stress of a stupid job at a stupid coffee shop,” you cried, gradually getting louder and more upset.
“I’m not miserable-” he started, trying to calm you down. “But you are! I see the eye bags under your eyes because you get up at 6 in the morning and don’t go to bed until 1 am!” you sobbed, “I’m trying to look for a job but no one’s taking me because I’m useless. Useless, useless, usele-”, you were cut off by lips on yours.
“Stop it right now, I’m not going to sit here and let you talk about yourself like that,” he said sternly. “But it’s true!” you cried.
“No it’s not, I promised we’d get through this together, right?” he said as he wiped the tears from your cheeks. “It doesn't feel like we’re doing it together,” you said, calmer than before.
“When I come home, who’s there to run to the door and hug me after a stressful day at work?” he asked. You didn’t say anything, now realizing how embarrassing it was to be crying like this.
“Who?” he asked once more. “Me?” you said shamefully. “Mhm, and who’s there to comfort me when I have a nightmare?”, “Me,”, “See? It’s you, you are there for me constantly. Yeah, work is dreadful but you’re the thing I look forward to, the person who reminds me why I’m working that hard in the first place so that we can build a beautiful life together with no worries. Which is what we came here to do,” he told you, a genuine look behind his eyes, comforting you.
“I love you,” he stated, putting his forehead to yours.
“I love you.”
~~~~~~~~~
xoxo
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m1ck3yys1lly · 7 months ago
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Sooo!! I made this last month, this silly little BkDk fic based on the song ‘My Girlfriend’ by TV Girl! It’s incomplete but hey, I don’t even know if I should finish it 🤷! It’s post-war and was made a few months ago, so not too caught up to date !! But, here we go! I hope you enjoy<3
Now Playing…
‘My Girlfriend’
“Izuku, you need to get out of bed. Go shower or something…” Katsuki spoke with a sigh, knowing the other wouldn’t listen to him anyways; why did he even try anymore? Oh right, it’s basically his job.
After the war, Izuku fell into this rut, this deep depression that took over his entire being after all the adrenaline wore off. After a few months, he stayed inside all day; as if he just gave up on being a hero. He never left his apartment, the one he and Katsuki shared now, never left bed even.
It was understandable, he went through it the worst. No one could ever understand the pain he went through; not even Katsuki himself. It’s been three years, probably longer, but they both found it easier not to count.
They both used to just lay in bed all day, wrapped in each other's arms to fend off the night terrors. Alcohol and food stains all over the bed and floor, clothes discarded and forgotten all over, not that they got dressed to go anywhere anyways; it was a mess. No one blamed them, they went through hell and barely made it back.
“Izuku, please.” Katsuki begged, moving to Izuku’s side of the bed, bending at his knees to meet the gaze of the other. It was almost routine, Katsuki bugging Izuku to do something and Izuku either complying after a while or being forced by Katsuki to get his ass up.
Izuku’s hand wormed its way to Katsuki’s face, caressing his cheek before tracing the large scar across his face. He had the option of healing the scar completely, Eri, once all healed up, jumped at the chance of being able to help more. But Katsuki said it was a reminder of their victory and strength; those words were Izuku’s, despite hating the scar himself.
“Let’s go, up, up,” The blond sighed, grabbing hold of the green haired boy and pulling him to sit up; getting a groan in return.
“A little longer?” Izuku requested, looking at Katsuki with pleading eyes.
“Shower. Now. I’ll start it, grab your clothes.”
Izuku sighed before he begrudgingly dragged himself out of bed, forcing himself to stand and move across the floor; paying no mind to the pillows and blankets spewn across it. He always says he’ll pick them up, make the apartment clean and do his half, but he never gets to that point.
Katsuki rolled his shoulders before bending down and messily tossing the fabrics back on the mattress, deciding to make it later Katsuki’s problem.
The attached master bathroom was beside the closet, where Izuku stood lazily grabbing whatever clothes he spotted, not caring whose they were or if they were clean or not. Clothes were clothes.
Katsuki pushed the bathroom door open and flicked on the light, blinking a couple times while adjusting to the light. He trudged to the shower, turning it on at the perfect temperature he knew Izuku liked.
He checked everything, making sure the soaps were full and everything was ready for him. There was a button beside the shower, one in every room; precautions set in place incase of emergency.
The buttons were simply there and attached to the wall if either Izuku or Katsuki needed the other if they were away, which was uncommon, but still necessary, at least in their own eyes. They had them installed during the second year, when Katsuki felt more productive and left Izuku’s side.
The water hit the ceramic in a rhythmic hum, making calming music. It was almost peaceful, their life together. Despite the night terrors and bottles of pills filling the cabinets, it was calm; as calm as life could be.
“You getting in too?” Izuku asked, grabbing Katsuki’s attention with his entrance. He just watched the other toss his clothes on the counter beside the shower carelessly.
“Can’t. Need to go over to pick up groceries from your mom,” Katsuki responded and ruffled the other’s hair.
Izuku’s hair was a story of its own. Once Izuku was in care, they had to shave it off; a buzz cut on Izuku was definitely an interesting look. Under any other circumstance, Katsuki would’ve teased the other relentlessly. But it did grow back slowly after, slowly but surely, and now, three years later, it was longer than before.
A humm erupted from Izuku in acknowledgment as he pulled off his shirt, tossing it carelessly into the already overfilled laundry basket. Katsuki took note of it for later.
“Cya,” Katsuki called, placing a peck on the other man’s cheek.
“Be safe,” Izuku replied, his eyes looking at Katsuki. They held such deep emotion, worry mostly, but it was all mixed up with his past traumas.
“Always am,” He called while exiting the room, sliding the door halfway closed.
Katsuki hummed a tune as he left the master bedroom, making his way down the hallway. Photographs lined the wall on both sides, an attribution from both their mothers.
The photographs were ones of each other and their families, pictures when they were little or ones during UA, they covered the walls, an attempt to make it feel more like a home. There were more around the house, along with paintings and bookshelves, and many other knick knacks.
Their apartment was decently sized, with two bedrooms, a full living space, a nice sized kitchen, two bathrooms, a closet for the washer and dryer, and dining space. It was large for the two of them, considering they spent most hours in the bedroom.
UA bought the whole building, a small gesture of thanks for, y’know, saving the continent from doom, so Izuku and him could do anything with the place. Inko lived in the apartment next door, unable to truly live far from her boy; it was already a lot that she wasn’t living in the apartment with them.
But truly, Inko did a lot for them. She bought groceries and clothes, in the earlier months she would come, along with Mitski and Masaru, to do laundry, make dinner, set up decor, make the bed, show the boys and dress them; their own personal caretakers. It was sweet, but once Katsuki was able to get out of his funk, at least a little, he started to do the chores around the house.
Katsuki opened the apartment door which lay next to the kitchen and living space, in the center of them both, the clear exit. Before, Izuku would have full blown panic attacks if Katsuki even suggested leaving the apartment. Even stepping in the halls was a painful experience for the younger. Getting Izuku to even start living in the building was a hassle, but now it was the only place he stayed. Katsuki was finally ‘allowed’ to leave now, Izuku knew he wasn’t going far and would be safe anyways.
The hall was wide, he could stretch both arms outward and wouldn’t be able to touch the walls, spacious and comfortable. The building was under Izuku’s name, funded by U.A., but under his name, they had the freedom to do whatever with it. It was their home.
Katsuki left the door cracked and walked around nine steps to Inko’s apartment, give or take. He lifted his arm up and gently knocked, letting his other mother know he was ready to grab the groceries she prepared.
“Katsuki!” The stubby lady happily spoke while opening the door. She immediately motioned him in, propping open the door and gazing behind him. No doubt looking to see if Izuku decided to come.
“He’s uh- showering,” Katsuki said in a grumble while entering. He couldn’t help but feel bad for her.
Inko smiled a smile, sad but nonetheless a smile. She left the door wide open, welcomingly.
“I’m glad you got that poor boy to take care of himself; who knows how he’d be without you.” She commented while entering her apartment.
Pictures everywhere, like his and Izuku’s apartment, but they mostly were pictures of Inko and her son. Her furniture was clean and matching all of the decorations, the curtains open, illuminating the room. It was warm, and the smell of a meal flooded his senses. It felt like a true home. Katsuki hoped his and Izuku’s apartment would feel like a home.
“You’re truly an angel, a blessing,” She continued, dragging Katsuki out of his reflections. She walked into the kitchen, readjusting the apron Katsuki just noticed her wearing, it was a soft cream color. “I’m forever grateful for you.”
Katsuki never knew what to say, she always spoke about this stuff, always talking about Katsuki as if he were some kind of saint.
(this part went unfinished…)
˚✧₊⁎♡ʚɞ⋆。⋆ʚɞ♡⁎₊✧˚
Katsuki juggled the containers, he declared he didn’t need her help, more than she already helped. After all she made them dinner, she said she accidentally made extra, but he knew it was a lie.
“‘Zuku, your mom made food come in he-“ the blond paused after kicking the door open, he figured the boy would’ve crawled back into bed, but there he lay on the couch, curled into a blanket while the tv screen buzzed.
Katsuki felt like a proud parent, like a father who hears his kid got the perfect grade or graduated from law school, something ridiculous like that. His smile was present in his face, wide and not hidden.
He placed the plastic containers down on the counter to his left, opening up the bags to unload the actual groceries into the fridge and cabinets.
“What’d she make?” Izuku asked, curiously from his spot perched up on the couch. He looked over with obvious interest.
“She said it was some kind of soup, can’t remember the name.” Katsuki replied, opening the fridge and placing the fruits in the crisper.
“Maybe it’s her potato soup,” Izuku replied with a hum, just imagining the food.
“Pretty sure that was it”, he replied, closing the fridge after putting all the items in. “She should sell the shit, it’s delicious.”
All he got was a hum in agreement, Izuku’s focusing shifting back to the screen. Katsuki didn’t mind, it gave him time to grab bowls and bread for the duo to eat. He moved swiftly but without urgency. Grabbing bowls and spoons from the cabinets. He poured the soup into the bowls before placing the rest of the container into the fridge for later.
Katsuki grabbed hold of both bowls, holding them both from the bottom. He made his way to Izuku’s side, handing him a bowl before plopping down on the couch himself.
“What we watching-?” He questioned before a frown plastered onto his face. “You’re not supposed to be watching the news, Izuku.”
He didn’t get a quick reply, green eyes trained on the screen as familiar faces were displayed. Heroes. Their classmates; the ones who made it and decided to still be heroes anyways.
“It’s just showing reruns, I wanted to see how everyone was.”
Katsuki just frowned at that answer. Sure, he wanted to see how the others were, they called weekly and kept each other updated; something Katsuki couldn’t have ever seen himself doing before this.
He didn’t argue or demand it be turned off, it was just reruns, some footage taken after the news showed it. What’s the harm?
Such a stupid question. The harm was Katsuki’s instinctual desire to go out there too, to fight and be a hero. He knew he and Izuku were recognized as heroes already, the saviors of Japan. But he wanted more, he wanted to live his dream.
On the rare occasion, he wanted to leave, to join his classmates and show the world who he was and what he stood for.
But he wasn’t even sure how he would start, where would he go? He couldn’t just jump out there and start fighting crime. He’d need an agency and so much more. It’d be too much of a hassle.
Katsuki slouched onto the couch. Either way, one look at Izuku convinced him otherwise. He couldn’t be a hero without him.
He wasn’t sure if Izuku wanted to pursue a hero career anymore. Mental professionals made it clear to not bring it up unless Izuku did first. Don’t push boundaries and make memories resurface, they said.
A kiss made its way onto a freckled cheek. Nobody was perfect, not himself, not Izuku. He was willing to wait until the world stopped spinning. And even then, if they never became heroes, just being together in peace would be okay too. They would have each other till the end of time, being alone wouldn’t be a fear anymore.
˚✧₊⁎♡ʚɞ⋆。⋆ʚɞ♡⁎₊✧˚
“You need to slow the fuck down on drinking that. You’re going to get alcohol poisoning or some shit.” Katsuki snapped, grabbing the can from Izuku without room for protest.
It was one of his rough days, where Izuku refused to listen or do anything. All he did was lay in bed and drink, only getting up to use the bathroom or to grab another bottle. He was like a toddler during these times; Katsuki hated it.
The glare coming from the green haired male felt like daggers, but Katsuki wasn’t one to be a pushover, a couple dirty looks he could handle, even though he hated being the bad guy; especially to Izuku.
“I don’t give a shit that you’re pouting,” he said, his glare in return lacking any anger, it was more of a silent scolding.
He moved across the bedroom, avoiding a wet spot of spilled beer, making his way to the bathroom to pour the rest out; he would’ve drank the rest himself, but then he’d be a hypocrite, so he resisted.
Izuku was mumbling some slurred and annoyed shit he’d probably regret later, Katsuki didn’t mind. Izuku was an angry drunk, swearing more and cursing out Katsuki until he started bawling and curling into his arms. The worst of it was when he would start screaming, pointing blame and being a total bitch. Katsuki just let him. He took any and all punches, verbal and physical.
Flicking off the bathroom light and returning to the bedroom, Katsuki placed the empty glass bottle on the night table. He took a seat on the bed beside Izuku…
And that’s all Mickey has to share today!! <3 !
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edns · 9 months ago
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02. Blossom!
Thank you! I may have gone a little too ham with this... But enjoy! I'm a little rusty with writing and also I did this quickly so it might not be my best work but I had fun ^_^ P.S. I Swear I tried to write something cute or funny but I think I am physically incapable of making it weird or sad lol
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It wasn’t often that the flower vendor passed by Garreg Mach these days, her good being greatly varied — from lush greens for a garden and potted plants to flower bouquets. As Dimitri took a stroll down the market, he was painfully aware of all the eyes on him… All this time, up until Rodrigue’s death, he had been looking away from them all, when they turned to him for help. Looking around the market, his attention first drifted to the armory. He went to check whether there was anything new there, when a thought passed by his mind.
He probably should have given a gift to the person who cared for him deeply, but got pushed away. Cyrus Lenz, the person who nursed him back to health when Dimitri lost his eye — he made it very hard to tell if he cared or not. Ever since Dimitri reunited with his used-to-be classmates and the Professor, Cyrus had been distant, spending most of his free time training and sparring with other sword fighters. However, Dimitri had seen him fight in the battle at Gronder Field, which made it clear as day that Cyrus still cared, deeply. Putting one’s life on the line was a Faerghan way to say that, after all…
Heaving a sigh, Dimitri perused the armory. The vendor started to fuss as soon as he recognized him.
“We have a new collection of swords and daggers available, Your Highness,” the vendor smiled. “They’re all a valuable find. Surely you would be interested.”
“Are they, now…”
Dimitri rubbed his chin in thought, as his mind wandered… Should he give one of such daggers to Cyrus? At first, this seemed like a great idea, but then he remembered the amount of times everyone made fun of him for giving a dagger as a gift to someone else he cared about… His mind wandered to that person, rage flashing in his eye for a brief moment.
Squeezing his eye shut, Dimitri turned away from the store he was browsing… Only to be met with a pleasant floral aroma. He opened his eye, and saw an abundance of colors. He found himself wandering towards the store. He touched one of the flowers as gently as he could — a rose. Its petals were soft, smooth… It soothed Dimitri. For some reason, it reminded him of Cyrus. The rage on his face was replaced with a soft smile.
“It’s not often I see a warrior such as yourself enjoy flowers,” the flower vendor grinned; she didn’t seem to recognize Dimitri as the Prince yet. Perhaps she was new around here…
“Do I really have an exterior of someone who would not appreciate their beauty?” Dimitri smiled; the lack of formality was also comforting. He picked up the rose flower by its stem, only to feel the sting of a thorn… He pulled his hand away and noticed his thumb bleeding.
“That’s roses for you,” the vendor looked at the rose flowers standing neatly in a vase full of water. “They’re beautiful, but they also sting… And they wilt so quickly.”
Those words etched themselves in Dimitri’s mind. He stood there, his eye jumping between the blossom and the cut in his already scarred hand.
“What is one more wound for me? As you said, I am a man of war. I can take the thorns.” He took the rose again, this time avoiding the thorns, and looked at it up close. With a deep sigh, he touched the soft petals again, an almost pained smile on his face.
“Are you thinking about the rose right now, Dimitri?” The vendor gave him a smirk as the question startled the prince enough to make him look up from the flower. “Or about someone you know?”
Dimitri couldn’t answer, even though his heart desperately wanted to. He stood there, still staring at the rose with a furrowed brow, but it wasn’t rage that was clouding his mind this time.
“If it really reminds you of them, you should give this flower to them. It’s on the house.”
“… No, I can afford to-”
As Dimitri looked up, he found himself standing in a lonely corner of the marketplace, in front of a bush of roses that just happened to bloom there. It wasn’t the first time something of the sort happened to him, causing him to wander off somewhere or speak to people who weren’t truly there, but usually it wasn’t something this… pleasant, so to speak.
After rotating the rose in his hand for a good minute, Dimitri turned around to leave the marketplace with it… Only to see Cyrus before him.
“Your Highness…” Cyrus looked worn out, his voice monotone and quiet, but concern still showed through his seemingly cold expression. Through the thorns…
Dimitri couldn’t bring himself to say anything, and instead just handed Cyrus the rose blossom, his heart aching as he hoped the other man would accept it. Taking the rose, Cyrus, for some reason, didn’t even look shocked… But he did smile.
“I only wish for you to know that I… Appreciate your efforts in battle,” Dimitri blurted after a minute of silence.
“You don’t exactly give people roses for that,” Cyrus sighed, deep sadness returning to his eyes after the brief respite of a smile. “However, I will continue giving my best efforts. Thank you, Your Highness.”
Saying that, Cyrus turned and left the marketplace promptly, leaving Dimitri alone, his palms stinging with pain as he realized that the cuts were plenty, instead of just one.
Perhaps a weapon truly would make a better gift in this case.
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lildevyl · 3 months ago
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Whumptober Day 1: Race Against the Clock
The Turf War
Summary: Set in Season 7 of Hermitcraft.  Scar has been made Mayor and has declared “War” on the Mycelium Resistance.  Grain leading the Resistance does everything he can to keep the Mucelium alive in the Shopping District.  Not knowing what is awaiting.
A/N: I know this is a bit different than my usual, but I wanted to try something new. Am I using Wumtober as an excuse to get over Writer's Block? Yes, yes, I am.
“Well, I stand behind this backward podium here to bring you a special message from the Mayor.  All Resistance Fighters will be hunted down and brought to justice.  All Mycelium will be banned on the island.  You can’t harvest it, you can’t sell it, or harbor it.  We are through of it, we’re not bringing it back.  This Mycelium might have scared me but my resolve is never stronger to defeat the Mycelium menace.”  Scar sent the message out to all of the Hermits not realizing that he had just set up the first domino.
“The Mycelium is spreading!  You can’t stop the fungi!  It will spread!  Look!  It’s already spreading!  You can’t stop the Resistance!  You’re, move Scar!  And whatever this HEP thing is!”  Grain said stepping away from the HEP Containmentation station that have people that Scar hired to burn the Mycelium.  Not realizing that it had a little help from a very “Pesky Bird.”
Grian then had a brillant idea.  Going to his base and grabbing as many shulker boxes as he could carry, Grian then went down into the mines and started strip mining to gather the resources that he needed.  Once he was done, he went back to the Shopping District and brought up his menu.  He saw that Scar wasn’t online at the moment and BDubbs was AFK for the moment.  Perfect!  Grian went to the Barage and began his plan!  Making an underground cavern and making a path to his barrage.  Then with the redstone, Grian concocted a mechanism to allow people when they take the Mycelium block and put in two diamonds.  They will be dropped into the tunnel.
Grain then, finished out the underground cavern making more into a secret base.  He quickly put up a “Sign Up” Sheet for anyone who finds the underground cavern, to join the Resistance.  XB Crafted, Etho, Ren, and Impulse found the underground cavern and put their names on the list.  Etho even brought a little food for everyone.
“Welcome everyone to the Mycelium Resistance,” Grian started.  “We need you to help keep the Mycelium alive and well here in the Shopping District.”
“What exactly are we Resisting?”  Etho asked quickly taking down some notes.  No one even bothered to question it.
“Yeah,” Ren chimed in.  “I was wondering that too.”
“We are here to send Scar a message.”  Grian said smiling.  Everyone looked at each other and shrugged.  It was a little too quiet on the server anyway.  And Mayor Scar has been letting it go to his head a little.  So, why not cause some harmless chaos?
But unbeknownst to them, there’s an Imposter among them.
“What can I say,” Etho said to his chat.  “In this world, there’s always going some kind of resistance.  People don’t like change, and when things change, people will resist that change.”
Etho flew to his shop, Shady Eee’s but quickly redirected his flight pattern.  And flew straight to Town Hall.  He left a little book on the Diamond Thrown labeled, “For Mayor Scar’s eyes only.”  As Etho left he quickly looked around to make sure that no one was watching.  “And we might as well get a little something out of Mayor Scar, especially since he’s really big on spending the diamonds that we give him.”
Grian went to the underground base and had to somehow sneak in a couple of sheep.  He opened his inventory placed blocks down made a makeshift pen for the sheep and got to work in breeding them.  Then he decided to do a little “experiment” by placing a block of grass and a block of Mycelium down to see how long it would take for each to grow.  The grass grows slightly faster in the Mycelium but with the sheep devouring the grass the Mycelium will be able to spread quickly.
“Grian what on Earth is this?”  Ren asked scarring Grian half to death.  “Hehehehe, sorry Grian,” Ren said not sounding sorry through his laughter.  “But seriously what is this?”  Gesturing to the makeshift sheep pen.  “Here I am making a contraption to not only breed Mooshroom Cows and have them be delivered to the Shopping District quickly and without harming any animals.  And here you are with something that goes all back to 2011?”
“Well, yeah,” Grian sheepishly admitted.  “Okay, so is everything ready?  We start to send up the Sheep and the Mooshrooms?”
“Yep, everything is ready!”
Ren and Grian herd the Sheep and the Mooshrooms into the captraption and off they all went!  All of them were deposited in the Shopping District destroying the grass.  Ren and Grian then started to put a few blocks of the Mycelium in random places where the dirt was.
“Grian it’s working!  It’s working!” Ren excitedly shouted!
“With this fungest spreading throughout the Shopping District.  Masquerading as a Resistance, we will have to call in our own reinforcements here.  That is of course HEP, the Hermit Environmental Protection Agency.  We got to stand for what is right and what is right the Shopping District being soiled by the Mycelium.”
After the speech and looking at the people that scar recruited to help with the Turf War.  Scar then decided to deal with the nuances of the sheep.  He released the HEP dogs on the sheep.  Scaring them away and redistributing them all to another part of the server.  Scar then asked BDubbs to come with him.  He had a feeling he knew where the “Secret Base” of the Resistance was.  Only to find out that it was abandoned.  The Resistance must have fled after they dropped off the sheep and the Mycelium.
Heaving a deep sigh Scar then decided that the only way to get rid of the Mycelium was to “buy” it all.  If he has to he will use the Diamond Throne to get rid of the Mycelium once and for all!
Grian and Impulse make their way over to Town Hall.  Upon seeing the signs, Grina gave Impulse a knowing smile.  “I have an idea Impulse. Scar you’ve made a mistake!  You just handed us the entire Shopping District!”
Grian then puts on the finishing touches to the new base and messages everyone in the Resistance.  “Welcome everyone to the new Mycelium Resistance Headquarters.  So, first off Etho, I am going to be asking you for a huge favor here.  I need to you put together a Redstone status chamber for everyone here but it needs to connect to an Emergency Button.  Second, we all need to be careful about how we show our videos.  We don’t want to accidentally reveal our entrance to the base.  Third, Impulse and I have discovered something and it gave me a great idea.”
“You see Scar has put signs everywhere to buy the Mycelium, I say we use our Mycelium source block harvest all the Mycelium that we need, and sell it to Scar.  And take the Diamond Throne.  He just handed us the entire Shopping District, with that and then we can buy half the Shop District and put the Mycelium on the property of our shops.”  Grian explains his plan.
“Oh, yeah that’s a great idea!”  Impulse agrees.  “We sell the Mycelium to Scar but it will be so much that there’s no way he can destroy it all.  And then in a week or two after we let things settle we use the Diamond Throne to ‘repurchase’ the Mycelium and do what we want with it.  Because we would rightfully own half the Shopping District.”
The plan was set and that is what they did.  After hours of harvesting and calculating and recalculating to make sure they had enough Shulker Boxes for the Mycelium.  The Mycelium Resistance snuck over to Town Hall in the middle of the night and broke down the entire Diamdon Throne and replaced it with a Mycelium Throne instead.  Grian then placed a sign saying, “Thanks for the Diamond Throne Scar!  Enjoy the Mycelium!”  ~ The Resistance.
When Scar came into Town Hall that day, he nearly had a heartache upon seeing his beautiful Diamond Throne gone!  It was stolen!  “Oh, no! No, no, no, no, no, no!  They took the Diamond Throne?!  Oh, this is war now!”
“Oh, you declare war?  You declare war.  You’re going far with this Mayorship, Scar!”  BDubbs smiled at Scar.
Scar then decides to do something very drastic but at the time be able to bring in more diamonds to the Shopping District.  HEP purchased an old Warehouse and is now in the process of rebuilding it as a Factory.  Why not use the Mycelium for something “good.”  As in making it into a new kind of drink?  Moopop?  That’s a good idea!  It is made from the milk of the Mooshroom Cows and the Mycelium to make a brand new drink!
As HEP starts to do that, Scar then starts to strip mine to see if he find the underground base of the Resistance.  Scar thinks he found and recruited BDubbs.  Scar and BDubbs began to look around the area and Scar noticed a section just off to the side and went to it.  There’s a double-wide chest just inside it.  So, he goes to see if it is his Diamond Throne!
“Well, how do you know that this is the Diamond Throne?”  BDubbs asks.
“Well, I don’t know it looks like a volt!”  Scar says and opens the chest.  Only for some tnt to go and then the traps go off as well.
A Summoner started calling for Vexes and they started to go after Scar and BDubbs.  Until the Vexes find out that Scar is one of them!  Scar’s a Vex!  So, they go after BDubb’s instead!  Scar seeing that his friend was endangered quickly turned into his Vex form which he hasn’t done in so many years.  Scar managed to call off the Vexes and BDubbs got out of there with only minor injuries.
“Wait, Scar!  You’re a Vex Hybrid?!”  BDubbs asked astounded.
“Hey, I am.  It’s kinda why I started to uh, eat the diamonds.  My Vex side was starting to come out.  I just couldn’t see you get hurt so yeah.  I’m uh, I’m a Vex.”
“Hey, that’s okay,”  BDubbs said.  “But I think we’re going to need help if we’re going to find the Resistance Base.”
“I think I know just who to ask.”  Scar smiled.
Grian began flying around and was heading to Resistance Headquarters when something caught his eye.  HEP had finished building something offshore of the Shopping District.  Curious Grian went to take a look.  He couldn’t see much inside it but it was huge and that must be where Scar hid the Mycelium.  Grian took off heading ot the spot to get to the Secret Base when he nearly crashed into the tree after seeing was he saw.
“HUH!  Imposter.  There’s an Imposter.  There’s an Imposter among us!”  Grian exclaimed taking out his binoculars to get closer because he had to be seeing things!  But no!  He wasn’t seeing things!  There in front of Town Hall was Mumbo talking to Scar!  “Oh, no! Oh, no!  We need to act fast!”
Grian headed to the Resistance Headquarters and called everyone there.
“Thank You all for coming.  I don’t know if you notice but HEP has built something offshore and I think that is where Scar has hidden the Mycelium.  HEP has all the Mycelium so I say we go and heist it and then we purchase half the Shopping District!”
“Yeah, let’s go!”  Etho said.
When the Resistance went to the MooPop Factory it was a lot harder than any of them thought to break in.  Upon that, it was very unnerving to find out that HEP was turning the Mycelium into some kind of fizzy drink.  On top of that, Scar seemed to plan for someone trying to break into the Factory because they had to deal with the HEP Security.  A Skelton was the first hurdle they had to overcome, but then a Ravager came down out of nowhere is was just wreaking havoc!  Grian lost count of how many times they all died to the Ravager but eventually, they got past the Ravager.  Only for them to all luck out when Scar’s redstone trap backfired instead of destroying the Mycelium.  It showed the Resistance where he kept it.  Some of it got destroyed but a good portion of it survived.
As Grian was getting everything ready for Resistance to purchase the Shopping District, he heard the sound of what sounded like fireworks going off.  Then it kept getting louder and louder.  Now, it sounded like tnt going off.�� Was this a new addition to Decked Out?  No, it was getting closer.  Grian then went to the back and saw the name tags of Scar, Mambo, and BDubbs.
“Oh no! Oh no!  No, no, no, no, no!  No, it’s fine!  They’re - they’re going to go right about me.  Right?”  Grian said to himself!
But they didn’t.  Scar, Mambo, and BDubbs were getting closer and closer with whatever mining contraption Mumbo had come up with!  All three of them broke through the wall and that’s when Grian’s brain finally registered what was happening.  Grian ran, using his wings for extra speed to the Emergency Button and slammed his hand on it.  Calling everyone including himself to the meeting table.
“Panic! They found us!  Grab everything!  Grab the Mycelium!”  Grian shouted and started scattering with the others.  The Resistance managed to grab a few Shulker Boxes before they were able to escape.
Grian then decided to build another Headquarters but above ground now.  Now, that Scar found out about the Resistance underground base and who was in it.  It was no longer necessary to be discreet about it.  Both Impulse and Grian agreed that now they needed to call in the big guns to make sure that no one from HEP tried to sneak and boobytrap the Mycelium Headquarters.  So, sent a Batman-like signal in the sky of the Shopping District to the one person who could help them.  The Goatman himself, Docm77.
Doc answered the call and prepared everything for the Resistance.  He even put together an Emergency Statis Chamber for everyone there.  Now, to fully test to make sure that everything was working properly.  Docm77 told everyone in chat that everything was ready and to get ready for the test run.
Not knowing that someone sabotaged it.
When Doc pressed the button, everyone including him was transported to a cell made out of obsidian and iron bars.
“Well, well, well.  Why hello there,” Scar said entering the room on the other side of the cell.  In his full Vex Hybrid form.
****
Tagging: @whumptober, @isa-ghost, @weirdmixofweirdness
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jedi-lothwolf · 22 days ago
Text
Hurtcember Day 4: Scars
Fandom: Star Wars Rebels
Warning: mentioned self harm
Summary: Kanan is minding his business when Ezra and Zeb fall through his door. After Ezra asks about his scars, he starts to remember how he got them.
    Kanan never liked changing in front of people. Maybe when he was younger he didn't mind, but now he had something to hide; scars. Sure they were nothing to be assumed. That didn't mean he wanted to talk about them. Every mark was a permanent reminder of the person he had been.
    Living with teenagers meant that sometimes they would forget to knock. One morning while getting ready for the day, Kanan had been grabbing his shirt when Ezra and Zeb came busting into his room. They looked like they were fighting as they fell to the floor. "Sorry Kanan!"
    Still in the floor, Ezra chuckled and looked up at the man. "Woah." Zeb hit him in the arm before standing up.
    No matter how carefully you are in a war, you will end up with scars to remind you of the hell that is the battlefield. While the Jedi hadn't ended up with many, he had a few from his time as a commander. They were mostly just faint lines from falling or getting cought in a harsh environment with briars or sharp rocks. However, not all of them were.
    After the war had ended, Kanan got into a lot of trouble. From steeling to escaping the empire, most everything he did was dangerous. It didn't help the the man hated himself for a long time after the war. Further up his arms he had disorganized scars from a knife.
    Quickly Kanan shoved his shirt on before starting to talk to the two men. "What do you need?"
    "Kanan, what happened?"
    "Nothing. Now what are you two doing here?"
    "He started it!" Zeb yelled. Ezra hadn't stopped looking at Kanan. The boy's was covered in consurn.
    The Jedi sighed "They're old scars kid. I'm okay." He walked over to Ezra and put a hand on his shoulder. Before he could say anything, the boy spoke.
    "I'm sorry for whatever pushed you that far."
    There was a moment of silence in the room. "I'm okay." Looking over to Zeb, he tried to remember why the two were in his room in the first place. "What did you two do?"
    "I think we can take care of it, right Ezra?" Taking a step forward, Zeb grabbed Ezra and started to drag him out of the room.
    "Yeah. Yeah we can." The boy sounded unsure but didn't resist being pulled away. "Sorry Kanan."
    "Sorry Kanan." Zeb repeated. Then the two left, leaving Kanan alone.
    For a moment Kanan stood there, looking at the door. Walking over to his bed, he sat down. It had been a long time since he had really thought about most of his scars too deeply. Sure they kept him from changing in front of others, but that was so things he was so used too.
    His self harm scars were the ones he felt the most ashamed of. A few of them had been from the war. Most of the scars were from after the Jedi order fell. Either way he was a child when he had started to cut himself. The man hadn't stopped until he was an adult. Kanan always feared Ezra would be similar to him that way. A kid that grew up on the streets was a perfect target for horrible addictions. Still he hoped that if he ever did hurt himself or think about it, he would come to talk to him. That went to the rest of his family as well.
    Knowing there was no point in thinking about it too much, Kanan stood before it drove him crazy. Walking to his door he tried to leave it all behind for the time being. Right now he had to figure out what Zeb and Ezra broke and just hope it wasn't too bad
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