#What Armor Hides and Grins Deny (Headcanons) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

senju-sekhmet · 4 years ago

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Leporina venatio

leporina venatio (latin): rabbit hunt

Summary: You’ve cleaned it. You’ve groomed it. You’ve run your fingers through it - time to get around to wear it. Tobirama’s fur collar has got to be the number one prize - except he’d never actually let you adorn it. You’ll just have to help yourself to it a little bit differently, no? I COULDN’T RESIST... In response to the lovely headcanons @cafeinthemoon! Go check them out!

Warnings: the fact I really suck at comedy? And slightly suggestive tones in the end. SFW, though, don’t worry!

~3.200k words Read on AO3!

He opened his eyes lazily. The sun was already filtering warmly through the window and with a content sigh he reached over to - Empty. Tobirama turned over to find your side of the bed vacant - cold, even. He huffed. Now he couldn’t deny being slightly miffed that you’d rather rise on your own than spend a few precious moments with him, awake, in bed - as you used to, on your off-duty days; but being the man he was, there must be a reason behind all this. Maybe you had prepared breakfast, received an urgent message… a multitude of logical reasons were plausible.

He still was annoyed. Those were your shared off days, after all. Precious and few inbetween. With a shake of his head and sigh he rose to get dressed in his dark casual attire. His scarlet gaze swept the room for any clues regarding your departure. At the very least he expected you to leave some kind of message behind for him to find - if you really did leave without any hint at all? However he came up short. Leaving the bedroom and entering the narrow hall, he found there was no smell of fresh food being cooked either, which ruled out the breakfast option. Tobirama’s heart sank a little. So much for a calm day off, then.

Quietly, as a last resort he tentatively called out - “Y/n?”

No answer. Closing his eyes momentarily he sent out a weak pulse of chakra and tuned into his sensor skills to see if you were anywhere nearby, but none of the signatures belonged to you. Opening his eyes again, he stemmed his palms to his hips and frowned deeply. Had you actually left just like that?

Suddenly, his gaze widened as a more sinister thought occurred to him.

Had something happened to you?

His frown deepened. Should he check the hospital - should he -

Then he noticed it. The door of your shared armoury - really, the small room in which you both kept your weapons, armor and other items for combat and missions was slightly agape. His eyes narrowed to tiny slits. That door was always closed. He stalked over cautiously, nudged the door open - then he saw it. All the puzzle pieces fell into place immediately.

His ultramarine battle gear, polished. Shining.

His white fur collar - missing.

“Why, you…”, he muttered, no, snarled. For a moment the world was red and hot ire burned inside of him - then he gazed through the window, huffing.

He whipped around on his heels and stalked out of the house. Already, he channeled his chakra to let his sensor skills fan out in search of you.

You wanted to hide from him, an extremely skilled sensor?

Game on.

_________

Your neck and shoulders were comfortably warm. It was spring, so the temperatures were rising indeed, but not quite there yet - though it did make you wonder how Tobirama handled this in summer. Occasionally you’d tilt your head to the side to nuzzle into the warmth of the white fur that adorned your shoulders, inhaling the scent of your husband.

With a snicker, you thought about how he’d wake up to you - and his precious floof - missing.

Honestly, this was a godly prank, or so you’d like to think. Waltzing through Konoha, wearing what obvious was Tobirama’s trademark piece of attire was bound to turn a few select heads - and it did. You even happened to meet Madara - who had regarded you with a fine smirk. He understood immediately, of course - the fact Tobirama wouldn’t part willingly with this and was somewhere else, royally pissed off.

“Does he know yet?”, the Uchiha clan leader mused darkly, a glint to his obsidian eyes.

You blinked innocently, putting a slender finger to pursed lips. “Do you hear him yelling and ripping it off me?”

He merely gave a low laugh and waved goodbye, going on his merry way.

As you did yourself. You weren’t stupid, of course. Stealing Tobirama’s fur collar was one thing. Hiding with it for a prolonged amount of time was another - by now he’d be awake, have figured everything out and probably even be using shadow clones to look for you.

His sensor skills were an extremely unfair advantage in this game.

Which was another reason you kept to the broad public - the more chakra signatures were around you, the more difficult it’d be for him to discern yours. Really, it’d just buy you a little bit more time - and dignity. Tobirama wouldn’t make a scene to recover his most prized possession in front of the entire village.

You hoped, at least.

It was just in front of a flower shop when you spotted him - his silvery hair would always stand out, just like the three red facial markings he used paint on. He was down the road, way off; however his stare might as well have been a kunai flying in your direction for how enraged it was.

You gave a cheeky grin, waved at him and entered the shop without looking back to see his face become contorted by a furious scowl.

Inside the shop were a handful of customers and the keeper of course, who you approached politely. “Hello, might I take a look around? I’m looking for a little surprise for my husband and your display had me enraptured, really.” Your tone was honey-sweet, you almost felt guilty knowing what would follow in here.

The man blinked, blushing a little. “O-oh, sure, go ahead,” waving you towards his sortiment with a bright smile.

You made a mental note to buy some flowers from this poor fellow later.

____

Tobirama couldn’t believe his own eyes.

Not only had he located you amidst the bustling streets - it was a quite busy morning - but every single aspect of the situation fuelled his fury more. Obviously - obviously - you had been mingling in an effort to make tracking you down with his sensor skills more difficult (How pathetic - he’d know your chakra’s signature between a thousand, always), but you actually also had the gall to stare him in the eye once he found you, grin at him and, by all that is holy, waltz away.

With his fur collar on.

He wasn’t a conceited man nor did he care for appearances, but frankly a part of him quite liked the idea of you wearing it (for a short time, anyway) - your scent on it, the idea of it being warm by your body’s warmth -

But this was his fur collar! And he hadn’t given you permission to saunter around with it in public like some - some - look-alike? Furiously he stalked over to the shop you had just entered, paying no attention to what was being sold there exactly. People made way for him simply for how he walked - likely his expression helped with that bit too - but he didn’t care. This game was over, now.

Inside, his scarlet gaze locks with yours immediately and his eyes narrow to tiny slits. “Y/n,” he sternly calls as though his voice was a weapon - a threat he’d make good on.

The shop’s owner turned his head, mouth slightly agape when recognition settled into his expression.

You weren’t fazed the slightest, of course. That grin of yours was as cheeky as ever and had he been slightly more prepared - had this not been about his fur collar - maybe, maybe he’d have found it funny. A little bit.

But as it was, he didn't. Not the slightest. Nope.

“Tobirama!”, you waved, “There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you before, dear, I’m glad you found me now.”

He was sure at this point his face became as red as three red streaks of paint that adorned it. The shop owner ducked behind his counter a little. “It wasn’t all that difficult, Y/n, with that outfit you’re brandishing right now, you know.” The tone of his voice was subzero, but quiet. He took a few measured steps towards you.

Your smile didn’t falter the slightest. “It’s lovely, isn’t it?” You tilted your head slightly to rub your cheek over the fluffy white fur, closing your eyes to inhale the scent again.

Tobirama took a sharp breath and his eyes widened slightly as that motion alone did something else to him. His fists balled though. “Shall we, then? We got a lot more to do today.” He extended his hand for you to take, taking another measured step towards you. If you weren’t going to take his hand, he’d simply take your arm or make body contact somehow else to use his hiraishin seal and end this prank.

Unfortunately - of course - you were too smart for that. Your loving ministrations to the floof ceased immediately as an attentive eye caught his hand nearing you; your lips formed a wicked smile. “Sure - go ahead, Tobi. I’ll be right along, I promised Mito to stop by and - oh, I needed to buy something else, too.”

Tobirama nostrils flared and his gaze narrowed to tiny slits. Momentarily his jaws clenched so hard it hurt, but he raised his chin as he identified this for what this was. Defiance. And the proverbial gauntlet being thrown down again. “Then let’s go together, shall we?” He raised his hand to casually lay it on your shoulder as he stood by your side - as wife and husband would -

But you pranced to the side nimbly and towards the door before he could do so much as lay a finger on you or get within arm’s reach. “Wonderful! This will be fun. I’ll be back later, mister, your flowers are delightful!”, waving the shop owner goodbye, you already were out of the shop.

Tobirama’s hand dropped to his side, his hands balled into fists again. Darkly he stared after you. So this is how we’re going to do this. Not sparing the shop owner a second glance he was out before you could slip out of his sight again.

________

With no small amount of satisfaction you were sauntering down the main street of Konoha again, ignoring the ominous presence that was following you. The look on Tobirama’s face had been priceless. Unfortunately you had a problem now: he literally only needed to graze your skin now to whisk you away to your shared home.

Then the un-fun part of this prank would begin. You’d have to find a way to pacify him before that because right now, you knew he was royally pissed only.

Still. It was fun to watch, once in a while. And you really loved this lovely floof.

His low timbre reached your ears again, nearer than you expected. Already, you sped up your playful gait, throwing a glance over your shoulder. “Enjoying yourself?” He inquired darkly.

If looks could kill, you might drop dead now. There were honest shadows cast over his face from how enraged he was. But - and this was most important - he was far enough away still. You smiled cheekily again. “Quite a lot.”

His voice became chilly again. “You realise this is no match for my hiraishin?”

You giggled. “Yeah, I’d be in real trouble if you ever used it.” To accentuate your statement, you picked up your pace a little bit more. By now you were quite close to running.

Tobirama gave a low growl in response and answered by picking up his speed, too. The way the two of you walked must look comical by now. Not like you cared - and Tobirama seemed fixated on his goal now.

Truth be told, you needed a plan. Another shop would just strain his patience more - and that trick was old. Reaching a familiar destination - like Hashirama’s house - was dangerous. Tobirama might unleash his fury there or simply grab you and really haul you away. Briefly you considered seeking out Madara - but the fun would stop right there, or the probability of an actual incident was too high.

That left you with one option.

Within the blink of an eye, you bolted into a sidealley.

_______

Tobirama skidded to a halt for just a moment as you ran - right down into the narrow alley to your right. Snarling, he began the pursuit - gloves off now. If you actually thought you could outpace the fastest shinobi alive, you had another thing coming.

Though you weren’t exactly holding back either - nor were you a sluggish person. Your footwork had always been nimble and in the small streets it was possible to zigzag past narrow corners, under clothes lines and down even more narrow alleys that barely deserved the name.

He had to be careful. This was not some panicked move, this had been a calculated decision of yours. Quite possibly you had more planned. His best option remained to stay as close as he could - no, get close enough to touch you and teleport home.

His increasing fury didn’t help maintain focus, though. All he did see was his white fur collar trail in front of him and away, alongside the endlessly amused laughter of his wife.

Were he not so frustrated, he might find the challenge entertaining. Enjoyable. Perhaps he did, right now.

Nonsense, this was ridiculous! He had better things to do than running after you like some schoolboy!

Just as you turned around yet another corner he lunged forward for you to narrowly miss his grabbing hand - so narrow he could still feel the air draft of your movement as you had to dance to the side in order to avoid capture.

“Ahaha!”, you giggled, “It seems you got to be faster, dear husband!” - and with a literal twirl you were on your merry way again.

That did it.

_______

After your very narrow escape, you had turned yet another corner - quite frankly you were surprised Tobirama hadn’t shouted anything back. There are no people in these alleys; and by now you expected him to be frothing by the mouth or something. Instead he actually lost a few meters on you - hah.

Then you frowned.

That was quaint, actually. Had he stopped for some reason? You spurred yourself to greater speeds but nonetheless you couldn’t deny the tiny shiver down your spine. Your husband was an extremely intelligent man and the fact he had hatched some plan that had required him to stand still even for just a second - that didn’t sit well with you.

You had to change your tactic, again.

But quite frankly you were running out of options at this point. A disguise was out of question due to his sensor capabilities - back on the main road, maybe?

You took another quick turn-

Only to be slammed into the ground by a tall, silver-haired man. With a yelp, you rolled forward to ease the incoming fall as you lost all balance due to your speed, but your assailant was quick as well - before you could gain your footing again, he used the weight of his body to tackle you. You managed to roll on your back to identify the attacker as - who else could it be - Tobirama.

“How?!”, you breathed, incredulously, but already, you raised your legs to kick out viciously to shake him off; though he was faster.

With a low huff he seized your wrists simply and dragged you up with him - damn it all. This was as good as over now. After a short scuffle he had wrestled your arms behind your back and turned you around to face down the alley, where the answer was coming from.

Another Tobirama was striding down towards you. He clapped his hands, once twice, lazily. The smirk in his voice was unmistakable. “Well done. Shall we go home, dear?”

You struggled still against the shadow clone that held your arms wrenched behind your back, scrunching your nose and huffing. “That was low, Tobi. I thought we were having a fair chase here,” you moped.

He finally stood in before you, arms crossed in front of his chest. His eyebrows rose lazily. “I was chasing you. Apologies for not reading the rules, you didn’t leave any behind.” He sounded entirely unimpressed now, but there was a certain glint in his scarlet gaze as he stared his quarry - you - down. You were unsure if it was fury or plain annoyance.

Your lips formed a pout. “At least make your clone disappear now. You won.”

He didn’t move an inch. In fact, his clone reinforced his grip, earning him indignant “Hey!” from you. Tobirama only blinked, gaze never leaving you. “Do you think I’m stupid? You’re going to bolt the moment I release you.”

You click your tongue in feigned hurt. “Ouch? Please, have some faith, husband. I lost a fair chase, I’m a good sport.”

“You just called it unfair, my dear.” He cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed.

You just stared at him for another moment after he had called your rather obvious bluff. Finally, you bit your lower lip and attempted a little bit of a smirk again. “Come on, Tobi. You did enjoy yourself a little.” He still didn’t move an inch. His intense gaze simply kept mustering you, only narrowing ever so slightly. “We’re going home now.”

Instantly reality twisted and a familiar lurch later you were in your bedroom, Tobirama right in front of you. The clone was gone - he must’ve released it the moment it had teleported you. In a swift motion he backed you up closer to the nearest wall, closer and closer - until you felt your back make contact with the wall. Defiantly, you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Well, go ahead then. Take the floof back.” At the very least, you were surprised he hadn’t been shouting or something. Remembering his face when he initially had spotted you, you’d been rather sure you were in for something.

Right now? Right now the scarlet gaze of his was near liquid, ablaze but narrow nonetheless. His jaw was working and slowly, he put a hand to the wall next to your head. “Hm,” he gave a low hum that rolled right off his tongue.

You raised an eyebrow. Was he going to prank you now? “If you’re waiting for me to give it back, no can do. I’m rather attached to this. Literally.” You smirked again, confidently, turning your head slightly to nuzzle the soft fur again for a moment.

From the corner of your eye you saw his throat move as he swallowed heavily, his eyes widening slightly. He was staring you down like a hawk now. Silence stretched for a few moments before - “Maybe I quite enjoy the sights right now, actually.” His baritone voice had taken on a sultry tone now and his free hand moved up to first ruffle through his fur, then trail up your neck and cup your cheek tenderly.

Your eyebrows climbed up. So that was what that look had been about. You leaned into his touch a little and couldn’t help but smile gently, looking up at him. Right then you wanted to lose yourself in that intense gaze of his. “Then ... I’ll wear it a bit longer?” you murmured headily, quietly.

He took another small step closer until his body almost touched yours, his fresh breath hitting your face as he seemed to ponder the notion for a moment. The hand next to your face slipped down to linger between the soft fur and your neck alike, his thumb stroking your skin gently. For a moment all he did was caressing you, pinning you with gaze; no marvelling you.

“A tiny bit…”, he finally murmured, then a fine smirk formed - and his voice turned stern. “But you’re not going to leave this house. With my collar on. Ever again.”

You rolled your eyes.

This was still Tobirama, after all.

#tobirama #tobirama senju #tobirama x reader #tobirama senju x reader #sekhmet writes

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nissakii · 4 years ago

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Haikyuu Fantasy Quest Headcanon

POV: Iwaizumi

As we rested for a while calming down from our long journey, I took the leather bag and let the water slip into my throat letting my sword lie in my lap watching Kageyama, Hinata, Kindaichi and Sugawara carefully.

Sugawara bandaged Hinata who took severe damage from the last fight against the iron wall tribe.

I sighed and watched Kindaichi cleaning his own wounds instead of asking Kageyama to do so. In the end they all strived to take the king, it's no wonder they are competitive.

I closed my eyes for a second to try and avoid looking a bit nervous in front of them tapping a rhythm on the metall armor on my leg.

"Iwaizumi!!"

Hinata's scream was like a lightning that struck through me as I turned around after slaying down the persistent smallest of them.

They all had tried to get in the way of reaching the castle and I couldn't deny that their defense was strong but I had realized that when I saw Hinata's eyes in shock on Kageyama's broken saber as his eyes widened in shock, the man covered in metal towering over him grabbing his throat and heaving him up.

Sugawara was frozen in his place, his legs shivering but his face showed that he was angry.

"Not again", he muttered to himself, a weird expression distorting it into an almost hurtful paining experience.

Unlike Hinata he is much more calculative but he rushed into the giant who immediately hit his neck letting go of Kageyama with one hand and shoving his elbow with full force against Sugawara's neck before the latter coughed and his eyes rolled back losing consciousness.

"Asahi...", were his last words as he sagged down on the dusty floor.

"Sugawara!", Hinata had grabbed his claymore that was double his size tightly and jumped into the air turning it around before bringing it down, but the giant used both of his arms to stop him which seemed to have a big impact.

"...", the titan heaved his leg up pushing Hinata into the guts who spit out some fluid but still kept pushing his claymore down.

"Aone!!", he screamed which seemed to have taken the titan aback and I rushed in with no hesitation swinging my two-handed sword full force against his head, causing his helmet to fly off revealing white hair and the dizzy expression from the impact of my sword.

Kageyama who recovered still coughing shoved the stump side of his saber against his head making him fall unconscious.

"I wonder why they don't want us to reach the king, who is he?",Kageyama muttered, rubbing his throat, his voice still shaky.

I opened my eyes again seeing the others already assembled in front of me with a smile. I stood up and heaved the sword over my shoulder, "time to face the king", and they all nodded going for the hill where we already met his troops slaying them down one by one.

"Aone was much worse than this, keep coming!", Hinata screamed but he missed one that almost jumped on top of him before Sugawara hit him on the head with one of his arrows staying in position.

I gave him a thumb up and he nodded, focusing back on the back rows.

"I see, how annoying but you guys have guts", a sly voice was the only man facing us on the top of the hill with a wide grin, covered in red clothes, he pulled out two daggers in each hand below the pile of woven fabric.

Kindaichi rushed forward, closing his eyes for a second before he turned towards us,

"I-I can handle it", but he was cut off by me.

"Kindaichi don't be ridiculous, let's-"

"Iwaizumi, please- I couldn't do much against Aone. I... I want to fight too on my own '', a serious and lonely expression was on his face. Despite the weird feeling of not wanting him to get hurt I felt the way he faced this situation.

"I want to fight on my own too!", the flashback of a young boy rushing through my head and I frowned.

"Alright but as soon as you see you can't do it anymore run away, got it?"

With a big smile he nodded and faced Kuroo fully.

"Oho~ I don't mind taking you all on", he looked behind his back and then faced me with the worst grin ever, "but I guess the King is already waiting."

Kageyama was the first one rushing in.

"Oi, Kageyama, stop!", but he didn't listen as I ran after him and Hinata.

"I will stay here and take care if things get out of hand", Sugawara whispered hiding in the bushes as it seemed like he didn't want to hurt Kindaichi's pride. I nodded and felt a bit relieved before rushing to see that Kageyama was already standing in front of a tall man, covered in a white cape and attire which made him seem more like a prince than a king but the big crown almost like vines around his head before they naturally became a crown on top.

My heart dropped as I saw the red eyes of a familiar face. I tried to gulp down but my throat tightened.

"O-Oikawa?", seeing the boy who used to live in the same village standing there a lonely aura engulfing him. His eyes despite the constant smile on his face bore a sad burden.

"I see, you finally came", he chuckled.

With a smooth movement he removed his cape and threw it to the side, as he grabbed the hilt of his blue glowing saber with gold accents pulling it out and pointing it at Kageyama.

"It's time to end this game", he heaved his chin up and Kageyama as well pulled out his new saber. I was the first one rushing in while they were still talking but he just parried it without even moving his head.

"I won't go down easily after having sacrificed so much", he pushed harder throwing me off balance. His red eyes glowing with that grin on his face.

"Are you an idiot?! Why did you go down this path when you were so close to becoming a Knight?!", I screamed not recognizing the usual friendly and genuine face of the boy who used to train until his hands got full of scars.

"I was never supposed to be one. They chose everyone but me. I worked so hard and yet what did I get out of it?", his eyes trailed over to Kageyama who stood there still awed by the smooth movements and quick-witted steps that the King needed to take me down.

He gulped and adjusted his stance. I won't lose that easily. With a forceful kick I threw him off in the right moment pushing him to the ground but he didn't hesitate to stab into my side, suddenly the warmth spread and I saw the metal armor cracking like an egg shell to the ground.

Blood dripping down.

"I really didn't want to do that", he heaved himself up on his saber and watched me crouch down.

"You were a dear friend", he wanted to turn around but I grabbed his leg as Kageyama finally landed a hit on him making his saber fall and they struggled against each other.

"Move!", he yelled and Kageyama shook his head.

"In order for me to become the best I need to defeat you!", was the only thing coming out of his mouth as he was in the advantage and reaching for his crown with an almost eerie gaze.

“I want to be king…”, Kageyama muttered, lost in something but reality.

"Kaaaageyaaama!!!!", Hinata pushed himself along with the claymore against Kageyama making him fall before he could grasp the crown.

"Are you stupid? You wanted to take the crown ? Do you want to become a solitary king just like him?!", Hinata huffed and wanted to get up before there was only a weird sound as Oikawa stabbed him at a not vital part of his body, he used his foot to remove the saber from Hinata's body but the crown fell off when an arrow shot it down the red eyes turning into brown.

"Huh?", I looked behind me, seeing Sugawara's bow still ready to shoot more arrows.

"Hinata you moron!", Kageyama shook him but he seemed down.

"Ugh!", he rushed to Oikawa who was on the floor and pointed his saber towards his face, the tip almost touching it.

"Do something about this?! You are supposed to be the King everyone looks up to, I wanted to beat you! But look at you!", Kageyama's anger rushed and I was afraid he would do something.

I forced myself to crouch next to him and stood up leaning against him.

I took his saber and kicked away Oikawa's.

"You already defeated me. But you know what", there was a smug face, "I may be a king but there is still an Emperor you didn't think about", and suddenly white eagles covered the sky as the young king looked up and chuckled sadly.

-Makii

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hollow-dweller · 6 years ago

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when the curtain is drawn

Pairing: Allura/Lance, side/alternate universe klance (it’s not the focus except for allura’s pining for her own lance, but just so people know) Words: 3955 Summary: allura had been so wrapped up in convincing herself that she was okay leaving it all behind, that she was okay sacrificing herself for the good of the universe, that the notion of going back stops her short. she looks at her- herself, sees her determination, her desire to help, and she lets herself believe, at least for the moment, in possibility

or allura doesn't die when she sacrifices herself, but rather is thrown into an alternate universe where shiro never died (but neither did zarkon), she never lost her leadership role (but never became a paladin), and keith never left (but lance never...)

also on ao3 at the same title (author’s name also the same) (is tumblr still hiding posts with links from search?)

a/n: i was planning to do a more fleshed-out version of this, and i still might, but i wanted to get this out there. it’s pure self-indulgence (also i haven’t actually watched s8 so if there are inconsistencies just accept them in the name of ~plot~, because that reasoning’s never lead us astray before)

also title from “hypnotized” by years & years, the most allurancey of allurance songs

i didn’t really intend for this version to get so long, it was supposed to be a bunch of headcanons in bullet point, but here we are. please take this nearly 4000 word ramble about allura missing her boyfriend

honestly, allura can’t help but feel a little bitter. it’s unfair, she knows, because these paladins have been fighting a war too, they’ve seen their fair share of horrors, zarkon’s nowhere near defeated, this version of her also lost altea and with it everything she ever loved-

it just. it just all seems like it’s so… easy. they’re bonded, to their lions and to each other, and they seem hopeful. they seem determined. they seem motivated. they seem happy.

(allura had come close, for the first time in ages, to something akin to happiness. she feels echoes of that happiness even now, when it seems a lifetime away, when she remembers warm hands, soft despite their gun callouses, covering her own. she remembers a chest she could lean against, exhausted, in those moments where she needed relief for the sheer overwhelming pressure of it all. she remembers wiry but strong arms encircling her, comforting and protective, if even for a moment. she remembers blue eyes, usually so bright with mirth, but in this moment serious- even a little sad- but filled with utter conviction and endless devotion. she remembers i would follow you across the universe-)

this team is slightly strange to her in their openness, their friendliness, instantly accepting her story. it does make some sense, considering they had all been experiencing the crumbling of the universe around them, frantically trying to find a way to stop it without even knowing what was causing it. it likely came as a relief to them that instead of the end of all things, they merely got her, jettisoned out of a quintessence rift and into the space directly in front of where the castle- the castle- was drifting.

she’s lucky to have been wearing her paladin armor, that her helmet could materialize from the sub-reality pocket in their suits that stored their bayards and headgear. she’s luckier still that even here, her bond with blue persists. this blue lion isn’t hers, not really, but as soon as she traverses the vast, imperceptible divide between rift and reality, allura hears her in her head, growling protectively. she can imagine the look on the team’s faces (on his face) as blue had leapt out of her hanger and into space, swallowing her up and carrying her back to safety.

they have a million questions, each talking over each other, about where she had come from, what had happened to her, why she was in paladin armor, why blue had come for her. she tries to explain as best she can, tries to keep it brief, but it’s a long story regardless. they talk for vargas, going over differences and similarities, trying to pinpoint the essential moments of divergence.

her alternate universe self, clad in a dress that allura both does and does not miss, in the sort of way one misses a cruel ex-lover, aching but relieved- her alternate self is intent on the alchemic portion of her tale, having never gone to oriande herself (and that diverts them for a whole varga, with allura and coran eagerly pressing her for answers about the altean thought-to-be-a-myth and her stumbling through the story, trying to give them an accurate retelling while avoiding mentioning that she had not taken that journey alone). this allura is eager, hungry for knowledge- naive- and allura is startled when she vows to help send her back to her own reality, to help her get back to her family.

(allura had been so wrapped up in convincing herself that she was okay leaving it all behind, that she was okay sacrificing herself for the good of the universe, that the notion of going back stops her short. she looks at her- herself, sees her determination, her desire to help, and she lets herself believe, at least for the moment, in possibility)

she settles into life with this team fairly easily, surprisingly so. they are not so different, if perhaps less burdened- or differently burdened- from her own, and she finds that as the quintants stretch into movements, she becomes relatively comfortable. she still aches for home (still aches for him), but she can set it aside, not gone, but neatly stored until she has both the time and ability to deal with it.

(allura has become very good at this sort of compartmentalization. she remembers expressing this one day, trying to describe how she was coping, despite everything. she remembers warm laughter, and fingers brushing her hair back from her forehead, and warm lips on her skin moving in time with the words, practice makes perfect, right princess?)

it helps that even as similar as they are, they are also markedly different. it is comforting, in a way, to be reminded that although these people are familiar, and warm, and kind, they are not her family. her family is waiting for her beyond the rift, and these people will never replace them.

there are some divergences, however, that allura finds she cannot make her peace with. this she discovers one day as she walks into the lounge, instinctively following the warm tones of a familiar laugh, and walks into-

lance, lance (so like hers and yet so very, very not), straddling keith on the couch, grinning down at him, hair tousled and lips red in a way that had at one point been intimately familiar to her. it was a sight she had treasured, that she had hoarded, like the mythical beasts of her childhood tales had hoarded precious metals. it was something she had arrogantly believed was all her own, something she foolishly dared to think she would never lose.

(in that moment it does not matter that in her reality, that belief held true. she was not in that reality- she may never again be in that reality. it doesn’t matter, and allura burns)

lance yelps and clambers off keith’s lap, falling in a tangle of limbs onto the floor. keith leaps up to face her, hand already reaching towards the knife at his back, ready to stave off an intruder. the fire that burns through allura quickly turns to mortification and she squeaks, hands covering her mouth. keith softens and lance pops up from the floor, looking embarrassed but not angry, and waves off her stuttered apology. “it’s not your fault,” he says, looking both smug and contrite, “we shouldn’t have been doing- uh, anything here anyway. totally our bad, princess.” allura ignores keith’s muttered “and whose fault is that” because she knows, she knows exactly who the instigator was, because ancients know that keith was always too reserved for his own good.

(in her universe, that reserved nature had been something she had thanked the ancients for. it was petty, maybe, and a bit unkind, but she knows that she only got her chance to learn to value lance’s love because keith had squandered his, that if he had been more open, or more honest, or simply more brave, she would have- well. she’d be exactly where she is now. she’d never talked to lance about it, because he’d have vehemently denied it, but occasionally, at dinner, or during team meetings, or at increasingly-rare paladin movie nights, keith would meet her eye. with lance, usually, pressed all along her side, or with his arm thrown casually over her shoulder, or with her hand in his back pocket, keith would simply look at her, pause for a long tick, and nod, ever-so-slightly.)

so allura ignores keith, and ignores lance too really, but rather takes a deep breath and fixes what she hopes is a warm, teasing smile on her face. she comes fully into the room as the two boys sit back down, side-by-side, respectable and chaste, and folds herself up on the other end of the couch. she urges them to tell her about it, about what brought them together, and laughs when lance exclaims in wonder over them not being together in her own world. lance dominates the conversation, slouching ever more so into keith’s side while chattering brightly, spinning a tale of a series of increasingly-confounding alien diplomats’ misconceptions, a delicate political alliance contingent on them maintaining the farce, and an eventual breathless, positively cinematic confession. the whole time, allura smiles, and gasps, and is the perfect attentive audience. keith, characteristically, is quiet, only interjecting to reign in some of lance’s more embellished plot-points.

(keith spends most of the conversation simply looking at her, his eyes dark with understanding. allura is not proud to say that she avoids his gaze, but she does. her respect for the keith of her reality, always high, is felt acutely in that moment. after all, this conversation is enlightening- and he is far braver than she thought.)

she works closely with coran and her other self, even pidge on occasion, exhaustively going over the details of her trip into the rift, the trials and travails of her alchemic journey up until that point. the sessions are part desperate search for answers, part training for the allura who never had the opportunity to unlock these powers in herself. this allura has certainly not been shielded from battle, not by any means. after all, she learned her lessons of warriorhood at her mother’s knee, just as she learned diplomacy at her father’s. together they shaped her into a leader, a fighter, a ruler. and there is not a universe in existence, allura is sure, where she does not strive to do justice to their legacy.

(in some ways, allura is jealous of this universe’s version of her. as much as she loves blue, and being a paladin, those duties had frequently torn her from her place at the head of the coalition. she has found herself, slightly perplexingly, in the position of taking orders from keith and shiro, and occasionally even lance. and although they are all excellent leaders in their own way, allura is, in another universe, in a former life, a queen.)

(in other ways, allura looks at this world’s allura, and is not jealous at all. she sees how there is still distance between her and the paladins. she sees how this allura does not join in on paladin activities, has never played monsters and mana, cannot sit easily with the five of them and joke, and tell stories, and laugh, too busy looking over starmaps and treaties. she sees how this allura yearns, even still, for any single scrap of connection to her past, to altea, and shudders at the memory of the dangerous roads that yearning had led her own self down, before she learned, painfully, to move on.)

(she sees how this allura goes to bed alone.)

“woah, woah, woah, you left part of your soul behind?”

they are at the dinner table near the end of a long quintant, tucking into their food goo, idly discussing the possibilities for getting allura back home. everyone is at least half listening in, even if allura is fairly certain, from the increasing redness of keith’s face, that lance is playing footsie with him beneath the table. allura hadn’t thought anyone was truly paying great attention to her conversation with… herself, but this interjection comes from hunk.

this snaps everyone’s attention to her, and she nervously pushes her hair behind her ear. she had mentioned quintessence transfer to the others before, in passing, as a potential bond they could exploit to connect back to her reality through the rift. she had skirted, however, around explicitly stating that she had actually transferred a part of her quintessence into someone, because… well. she hadn’t precisely been ready to get into the details of how. or who.

(she didn’t even know if it had worked, adrenaline and desperation prompting her, in what she thought were her final moments, to will some of her quintessence out of her body through a kiss. she hadn’t been thinking of establishing a tether or creating a true bond of any sort. she had simply wanted to leave a part of herself with him. a selfish fantasy that the last touch of her lips to his would linger, that his memory of her in turn, would never fade. that even if she had to leave him, he would not be alone.)

“it’s not a part of my soul,” she clarifies, hedging. “altea doesn’t really have a concept of souls, though i suppose it’s as close as your human mythologies come to understanding quintessence.”

pidge leans forward, glasses glinting. she looks intrigued, and the curiosity shared between her and hunk makes allura feel a little trapped. if anyone can get the full story out of her through sheer persistence and nosiness, it is these two.

coran, thankfully, jumps in here. “indeed! quintessence transfer is simply the deposit of quintessential energy into a vessel, usually for safekeeping. it can either be mined from environmental sources or pulled from within the alchemist. if the quintessence source is not entirely drained, a bond remains between the quintessence source and the vessel, even as quintessence perpetually replenishes itself in living beings.”

allura’s relief is short-lived, however, as coran slides a terrifyingly knowing look her way and continues: “it is, however, exceptionally rare for the vessel to be a sentient creature. if the transfer takes, the bond in that case would likely be much stronger, as the quintessence of the vessel would incorporate that of the source, strengthening it immeasurably.

i say it’s rare because it is much more likely that the vessel would reject the source’s quintessence. the vessel and source would need to have a very strong existing bond in order for the transfer to take.”

it’s at this point that lance interjects, leaning towards hunk and pidge to whisper, perfectly audibly, “dudes, allura made a horcrux!”

it’s obvious that the allura and coran of this world are befuddled by this reference, but allura spent over 14 vargas watching the most recent edition (”reboot, ‘lura, it’s called a reboot”) of those movies with her lance (and then nearly forty more eagerly devouring the ancient literature they were based on). she knows precisely to what lance is referencing, and is wholly unimpressed.

she clears her throat over pidge and shiro’s loud guffaws (and hunk and keith’s equally loud sighs, with which she wholeheartedly sympathizes). the room quiets and, voice prim, she responds, “to coran’s point, i did attempt to make a quintessential transfer prior to moving into the rift, but i have no way of knowing if it took. we can explore it as an option, but i’m afraid that altean alchemy is rather more delicate than all that.”

she stands, sweeping non-existent crumbs from her body for effect, and slides a smirk lance’s way. “certainly, if i were seeking immortality, i fancy myself more of a nicholas flamel than a tom riddle.”

with that she exits the room, grin spreading across her face as she listens to the beat of shocked silence left in her wake, promptly followed by raucous exclaiming and a distinctly shiro-sounding cackle.

they never get the chance to go more in depth into the theoretical usefulness of her potential quintessence transfer. the team is busy, still fighting a war after all, and when they are not in battle they are doing much of the same work with the coalition as they had been in her reality (though with significantly less ice skating). they are all working overtime, taking care of all their usual responsibilities, as well as trying to help allura find her way home. for her part, she is eager to pitch in wherever she can.

(allura is ill-equipped to handle downtime. she despises it, in fact. there are simply too many neatly-packed emotions waiting in her head. if she slows down, stops working, stops striving, they will have too much space in which to rattle around. compartmentalizing has always been something allura has excelled at. de-compartmentalizing, however, not so much.)

in the end it doesn’t matter that they’re busy, that even with all of allura’s knowledge and her counterpart’s intuition they simply do not have the resources, they do not have the time, to figure this out. in the end it does not matter.

he comes for her regardless.

they are experiencing a rare moment of downtime, drifting through space in a tucked-away galaxy, far from galra control. the paladins are together in the lounge, relaxing, and allura has coaxed her counterpoint there as well. they are supposedly going through the castle’s virtual library, looking for clues, but allura is pleased to see that her other self has been drawn into yet another of hunk and pidge’s debates about modulation. she knows enough about engineering to egg them on, a familiar gleam of mischief in her eyes as she stirs the conversation up with sly asides every time it threatens to calm down.

allura, for her own part, is half-listening, trying to keep from looking at lance and keith on the couch opposite. they are stretched out together in a rare display of public affection, keith napping on lance’s chest, and lance has a tablet propped up on keith’s back. allura is glad that keith is the one asleep, as she is as certain that keith would notice her surreptitious glances as she is that lance has not.

the lounge has a full window, and through it allura can see an endless expanse of stars, gleaming in the inky blackness.

blackness that is abruptly interrupted, in a sudden swell of light, expanding from a pin-prick of a distant star to eclipsing the window within ticks. allura shouts and jumps to her feet, hand moving to her side and bayard materializing in hand. she hears exclamations from the other paladins, as well as the clatter of a tablet falling to the ground, followed immediately by two grunts as lance and keith roll off the couch.

it’s over as quickly as it begun, before lance and keith can even scramble to their feet, before allura can even finish taking in the breath after her shout. the bloom of light collapses in on itself, winking away into nothing. from it’s epicenter, or what used to be, a trail of light appears, streaking towards the castle. allura’s eyesight is better than the humans’, and she’s sure that they’re still blinking away the aftershocks from the sudden flash of light when she realizes what that trail means.

for a tick, allura can’t breathe, can’t bear to hope that what she’s seeing is real. in the next, a whisper trickles into her mind, faint, wholly new but entirely familiar. a tick after that, and allura is running.

she knows the others are following her, probably startled and concerned by her mad dash out the door. she can hear them calling her, asking her to slow down, but she can’t. she feels as though this moment, the one she’s dreamed of, the one she’s barely allowed herself to hope for, is like water trickling through her cupped hands. once it’s gone, she won’t get it back.

she barrels around a corner and straight down the hallway leading from the main antechamber to the red lion’s hangar. she can hear keith, hot on her heels, galra genes making it easier for him to keep up. wildly, her heart thudding in her ears, she fancies that even without those, he’d know where she was headed.

there is one thing, after all, of which the two of them share a perfect understanding.

allura dashes into the red lion’s hangar and comes to a dead stop.

there are two red lions here.

allura feels like everything should be indistinct, like nothing should be registering properly with her. she feels like she should think she’s dreaming, that everything should seem distant, blurry, impossible to grasp, like smoke. instead, she is fully, thoroughly aware.

she’s aware of the others making it into the hangar. first keith, then herself and coran, and the other paladins shortly thereafter. she’s aware of keith stopping them, telling them to wait, to give her a moment. she’s aware of herself, stepping forward as the red lion lowers her head and opens her mouth. she’s aware of the ache in her lungs as she tries to catch her breath.

she hears his footsteps clatter against the metal of the lion’s ramp, and then she sees him.

the first thing that allura notices is that he’s older. it’s only been a few phoebs that she’s been stuck on this side of the rift, but obviously in her proper reality time has passed differently. he’s not a lot older, no more than a few years, but he’s a little taller, a little broader in the shoulders, hair a little longer. he’s got a scar cutting through his eyebrow, and dark smudges, like shadows, under his eyes.

and he has altean markings.

they’re blue, and as he walks toward her they start to glow a little. he takes a few quick steps forward, then stops, not far from the lion, looking suddenly unsure. his hand comes up to rub his neck in a gesture so familiar she has the sudden, near-irrepressible urge to cry.

he licks his lips, nervous, and when he speaks his voice cracks a little.

“um…hi?”

allura breaks.

before she knows it, she’s running, rapidly closing the distance between them and leaping into his arms. she doesn’t do it full tilt, like she kind of wants to, because she might actually flatten him, but she lays off enough that he can catch her, arms immediately moving to support her as she locks her ankles behind his back. she catches the barest glimpse of his wide-eyed gaze, the marks on his cheeks so bright now they’re almost blinding, and then she’s kissing the living daylights out of him.

she thinks she might hear gasps, perhaps even a startled yelp, but in this moment allura could not give a flying quiznack. she relishes the feel of his lips on hers, one of his hands sliding up her back, her fingers buried in his hair. they kiss for a long, blissful dobosh, and she only realizes she’s crying when he pulls away, just enough to move his hand from her back to her cheek, brushing away the moisture there.

he’s crying too, and she dutifully sweeps her thumbs under his eyes, delicate over the altean marks whose glow has begun to fade. the marks on his cheeks make the blue of his eyes stand out even more, but so too do the dark, almost bruise-like circles under his eyes. tears spill anew, her forehead coming down to rest against his as guilt for the marks she’s left him with nearly overcomes her.

“i’m sorry,” she whispers, lips so close to his they brush together as she speaks. “you promised me i’d never be alone, but i-" she's gasping now, unable to get enough air into her lungs, "-i couldn’t do the same. lance, i’m so sorry, i-”

her shoulders heave and now she’s truly weeping, full-out, sobs wracking her body. he sets her down gently, tugging her close again as soon as her feet are firmly on the ground. one hand grips her around her waist and the other is at the back of her head, holding her face against his neck as she cries.

eventually she pulls away, chancing a look up at his face. despite it all he’s smiling, eyes still shiny with tears. he looks a little sad, yes, but nevertheless she can see it, feel it: deep conviction and always, always, breathtaking devotion.

“thank you for coming for me,” she whispers.

he smiles wider, cups her face in his palms, warm against her skin. "across galaxies, across universes, across realities,” he breathes, and kisses her again.

#voltron #allurance #legitallurance #allura #fanfiction #my writing

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rockcandyshrike · 8 years ago

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Info on Chirrut and Baze from the Guardian of the Whills Book (Part 1/???)

Hey y’all so @senator-organa is the bestest person in the whole wide universe and she let me read an epub of the book and there’s SO MUCH GOOD STUFF I WANNA SHARE/POINT OUT. Spoilers ho below the cut!

Okay first, I am pleased as punch that some of the characters of Jedha in the Visual Dictionary show up and weren’t just interesting bits of world-building to never be touched upon again. They are Angber Trel, Silvanie Phest and Killi Gimm (the red-robed ones on the first page) who are Disciples of the Whills, and Kullbee Sperado, Beezer Fortuna, and Leevan Tenza (the ugliest motherfuckers ever on the second page) who work for Saw. Good on Greg Rucka for utilizing them.

LOOK AT THAT UGLY TWI’LEK

After the Empire came to Jedha and stripped the Temple of its artifacts and kicked everyone out, there are only a handful of Disciples left, and only two Guardians.

“Or, if you were to listen to Baze Malbus tell it, one blind Guardian and his long-suffering friend husband.”

Which makes me think there weren’t that many Guardians in the first place and they were likely outnumbered by Disciples.

We called it fandom, Chirrut panhandles not for credits, but to listen to the pulse of the city.

A Disciple comes to them for help with someone at the Temple who is (falsely) calling himself a Jedi in order to foment violence and Baze immediately wakes up from napping in a patch of sunlight to say, “No.”

What a man.

There’s an entire paragraph talking about how “No” is the “perfect embodiment of who Baze Malbus had become.” No to the Empire, no to the suffering of Jedha, no to the Force. (Greg Rucka you are already murdering me.)

Interestingly enough, the Disciple still refers to Baze as a Guardian, which he quickly denies by saying Chirrut is the only Guardian.

“Chirrut’s smile turned to a grin as he felt Baze jerk a thumb in his direction.”

They’re so married.

There’s a part where Baze turns on a faucet and has to wait for thirty seconds before it turns from rust red to black to “something approximating clear.” (Ye gads.)

Two good lines on how they feel about what the Empire’s done to Jedha

“It made Baze, who had nursed an anger all his own for so long, even angrier.”

“It just made Chirrut sad, and all the more determined to keep his faith in the Force and to find a way to ease the suffering of those around him.”

The sentence is a little inaccurate because there are several lines that clearly illustrate Chirrut is also angry as fuck, but he tries to hide it.

It also makes me think that maybe a little part of why Chirrut keeps his faith is to say “Fuck you” to the Empire which suppresses all faiths.

Chirrut’s sense of smell is ridiculously good and he can smell fear on everyone in Jedha, and even sometimes on himself.

“But never from Baze.” (Hmmmm, interpret that how you will)

He’s able to smell that the dude who’s trying to pass himself off as a Jedi is actually from Jedha and used to work in the kyber mines. (holy shit Chirrut has got one helluva super sniffer)

We called it again fandom! Chirrut is Force-sensitive, tho minorly so. He can sometimes high-tune his senses and feel people’s auras.

Baze is *twice* called “reassuring.”

Gay

Baze confirmed for walking armory; carries a shock-stick up his left sleeve. (He also carries around a pair of macrobinoculars in his belt.)

Baze confirmed for tea snob; most people like Tarine tea but Baze thinks it’s foul and only good for washing the taste of dust out of his mouth.

Baze confirmed (again) for being Extra™ as fuck; before he got his cannon he had an E-5 carbine he’d modified to be able to punch a hole *through* a stormtrooper.

And it “no longer [had] a stun setting. There was a time when this would have bothered him. He had been a younger man...”

;n;

Baze confirmed for giving best hugs; “he stepped in and wrapped his arms around her and lifted her in a hug that took her off her feet.”

Baze confirmed for BIG BUFF BOY.

He rips the tops off of a couple crates with his bare hands.

He also lifts one of these crates like it’s no big deal, when earlier the stormtroopers needed *gravhooks* to lift them.

His friend Denic is shook. “Her eyes widened for a moment at the display of strength.”

Much later he pushes aside a heavy metal panel door that survived being blown up and “It moved, grudgingly, and he leaned into it even harder, heard the metal grinding against the frame, against the sand, until it gave with a sudden snap of broken cable.”

Baze is also surprisingly quite in shape; he easily parkours a block without breaking a sweat.

Though when he does a superhero landing (totally impractical, they all do it) “he landed heavy and hard, felt the ground stab back at him, sending pain through his legs to his knees.”

THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD ROLL WHEN YOU LAND BAZE

The next line is intriguing tho, “There had been a time when such a jump wouldn’t have given him even the slightest discomfort.”

YEAH AND THAT’S WHY YOUR KNEES HURT NOW BAZE

Both of those points and Chirrut being -waves hands- yknow, Chirrut, are feeding my headcanon that the Guardians of the Whills were trained to be akin to supersoldiers in terms of abilities.

*coughcoughWinterSoldierAUcoughcough* (http://lionmettled.tumblr.com/post/157044874024/cindy-semi-reluctantly-presents-a-spiritassassin)

Also zawa-shimo canonically allows a person to do “near-supernatural” things. Baze may no longer be a Guardian, but that doesn’t erase the years, maybe decades, when he was.

Chirrut confirmed (again) for cheeky little shit; wisecracks a bunch, makes at least two blind jokes. Baze thinks he’s hilarious.

“Baze roared with laughter, loud enough that the crowded street took notice of them, including two helmeted and robed worshippers of the Central Isopter, who stepped curiously closer. Baze grinned big at them, showing his teeth, and they stopped, then stepped back...”

Baze. No.

I kept count. Chirrut makes Baze laugh 4 times and Baze makes Chirrut laugh 2 times.

They’re so fucking cute I love them so much.

Chirrut confirmed for saying ridiculous shit; ““There is a space between ‘next to impossible’ and ‘impossible.’” Chirrut smiled at something only he knew was there. “That is where we will fit.” “This guy, you believe this guy?” Denic said to Baze. “Yes,” Baze said.”

Chirrut confirmed for loving kids; he hears a child laugh and wants to laugh too (He’s such a sweetie).

Chirrut also had a friend he used to teach zawa-shimo (operative word being /had/).

CHIRRUT CONFIRMED FOR CONMAN AND BAZE HELPING HIM.

I won’t quote the one that most ppl have probably seen in the spiritassassin and associated tags about “my stick! I seem to have dropped it! -gropes around on the ground and holds up stormtroopers-” Instead, have this good bit (with a few things cut out for brevity)

“Where?” Chirrut asked. He sounded convincingly innocent. “There. In there.” She [indicated] the broken door. “Where?” Chirrut repeated. “Several people saw you forcing your way into the building. We were standing right here when you came out. In there, the building, there.” “This building?” Chirrut reached out with his left hand [to touch] the stonework. He managed to look surprised. “He gets confused.” Baze told the sergeant.

*I love them so much.*

Chirrut confirmed for being a goddamn nuisance; “In [Baze’s] experience, Chirrut could be a tremendously frustrating person when he chose to be, and often enough, even when he didn’t.”

Baze can read Chirrut so well he can tell Chirrut is going to fight some stormtroopers when he moves his hand by a *centimeter.*

This level of married and drift compatible I cannot deal with

LET’S TALK ABOUT BAZE’S GUN (no, not the one in his pants)

Baze’s cannon is not for personal use. His buddy Denic tells him this *twice.* It’s supposed to be mounted on a vehicle.

“He looked back into the crate...He looked at Denic. He grinned. “I like it,” he said.

BAZE. NO.

The smart targeting system doesn’t work well without the person being chipped or wearing power armor, but Baze still manages to use it later to take out almost the entirety of a landing bay. -shrug-

He can use it with one hand, which a person really shouldn’t be able to do since it’s supposed to be a vehicle-mounted weapon I just want to point that out again, but he’s Baze fucking Malbus he does what he wants (to keep Chirrut happy and safe and to kill Imperials)

The cannon was actually Imperial property they were going to use to slaughter Jedhans “for crowd control”, but Baze and Chirrut stole it when they jacked an Imperial supply speeder for the food and medicine it was carrying.

Denic is the one who helps Baze by making the body armor/coolant tank rig for him. Denic is a good bro. If you’ve ever wondered how it hooks up, it uses magnets (magnets, how do they work?)

And it’s capacity for 35,000 rounds has been jossed! In actuality, IT SHOOTS CLOSE TO *40,000 ROUNDS* BEFORE RELOADING.

I’M /HOWLING/

The next scene is great too. Baze walks into their home saying, “Honey, I’m hooooome” “Chirrut, I found a new gun.” Saw’s recruiters who’d been stalking them that day are drinking tea with Chirrut. He points his gun at them and Chirrut says, “Resist, please, the urge to use it.” *awkward pause filled in with audience laughter*

Okay it’s 2am I’m crashing I’ll write another thing later where I gush over Denic, my new pilot wife ;)

#spiritassassin #chirrut imwe #baze malbus #i love my gay asian space dads #guardian of the whills

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son-of-pendragon · 6 months ago

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📂📂📂

3 Random, Yet Completely Useless HCs

Mordred doesn’t like most sweets.

He prefers tea over coffee, and prefers energy drinks if he needs caffeine.

Breakfast doesn’t always sit well, so he skips it more often than not.

@iterare

#A Boy Without Armor (OOC)#iterare #All My Boyhood All I Wanted Was To Be Loved (About Muse)#What Armor Hides and Grins Deny (Headcanons)#((Didn’t expect this to have a Theme but here you go XD))

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son-of-pendragon · 5 years ago

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ABOUT THE MUSE . REPOST DO NOT REBLOG .

GENERAL

Name: Mordred Pendragon. Nickname(s): Prince; King. Saber; Saber of Red; Knight of Treachery; Knight of Londinium. Age: Physically 16-17. Species: Human; Heroic Spirit.

PERSONAL

Morality: lawful / neutral / chaotic / good / grey / evil Sins: lust / greed / gluttony / sloth / pride / envy / wrath Virtues: chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice Primary goals in life: Challenge the Sword of Selection; become King to lift the burden from his Father’s shoulders.

PHYSICAL

Build: slender / scrawny / bony / fit / athletic / curvy / herculean / babyfat / pudgy / obese Height: 5′0″ | 154cm. Weight: 125lbs | 56kg. Scars/Birthmarks: Crescent-shaped scars on his palms from his nails. Long, thin scars on the inside of his thighs. The former are from unconscious self-harm, the latter intentional. Abilities/powers: Enhanced strength and speed. Mana Burst -- releases magic energy carried in one's arms or flesh to move with sudden speed or strength. Crimson Lightning -- unleashes all the mana stored in his sword as crimson colored lightning. Secret of Pedigree -- helmet that conceals his true name, Noble Phantasms, and Personal Skills. Clarent Blood Arthur -- an anti-army Noble Phantasm; requires him to remove his helmet; utilizing it takes a great deal of energy, causing him intense pain throughout his body. Rampage -- the ability to use Clarent Blood Arthur multiple times by burning out his soul.

FAVORITES

Favorite food: Most any type of meat, really. Favorite drink: Red wine; also fond of coffee. Favorite color(s): Red. Favorite music genre: Rock; metal. Favorite book genre: Adventure, if he had to choose; doesn’t read much. Favorite movie genre: Action; somewhat amused by horror. Favorite season: Summer. Favorite curse word(s): Fuck, hands down. Favorite scent: Hasn’t really thought about it. Fire, maybe metal???

FUN STUFF

Bottom or Top: Bottom. He’s never had sex, so he has no idea. Sings in the shower: No. Likes bad puns: Sometimes. Depends on who’s making them.

tagged by: Was gently smacked by @hiiruseki <3 tagging: Steal it.

#A Boy Without Armor (OOC)#All My Boyhood All I Wanted Was To Be Loved (About Muse)#What Armor Hides and Grins Deny (Headcanons)

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son-of-pendragon · 5 years ago

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𝐎𝐋𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐒.

𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄. laughter loving. sweet smiles. dressed in silk and satin. flower in their hair. sees the world as a runway. unapologetically sexual. the sea washing their ankles. in love with love. stirrer of passion. cunning concealed by painted lips. secret daggers. doves. revolution in their kiss. delighting in the waves. flirtatious winks. strolling along the beach. staring wistfully from a balcony. this is how to be a heartbreaker. wants to be adored. gets turned on by danger.

𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎. glitz and glamour. art galleries. turning the volume up. being made of gold. neatly organized music sheets. notebooks filled with poetry. bathing in the sunlight. the powerful urge to create. collecting vinyl records. beautiful cover of wonderwall. playing multiple instruments. tasting like sunshine. healing touch. speaking in prophecies. smile mingled with wrath. shunning lies. sporting shades. hanging out at music festivals with their friends. sleeps naked. arrow to the heart. paint brushes. probably has a tinder account.

𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒. armed for battle. wants to raise a dog with their significant other. soft spot for children. gives piggyback rides. scarred body. blood on their hands and face. willing to fight the world for the ones they love. fights against injustice. warm hugs. well worn combat boots. boxing gloves. bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles. fist raised in protest. ignites revolutions. fear is a prison. more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think. exhausted. damaged goods. force to be reckoned with. red roses. curses under their breath.

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒. keen sense of a hunter. freckles like constellations on their skin. piercing eyes. disheveled braid. moonlight peeking through the shadows. the calm of the forest at night. lying on the grass and staring at the stars. mother doe and her fawn. protecting their kin. the moon shimmering on a still lake. quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree. running with wolves. bonding while circled around a campfire. not being much of a people person. arrow hitting a target. popping egos. patience on 3%. touches heaven and returns howling.

𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐀. discerning gaze. unreadable face. quiet museums. owl perched on their finger.armour that intimidates. eye for architecture. plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses. studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid. big fan of logic. loves brain teasers. ancient buildings. sweaters in neutrals and cool colors. hair done up. can kill you with their brain. heads to the library often to research. sharpened pencils. abs that can cut steel. stoic statues. pottery classes.

𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑. soil covered hands. smile that can bloom flowers. skin loved by the sun. being the mom friend. can lift you and your friends. flowers kept in the pockets of overalls. takes pride in their beautiful garden. speaks to their plants. leaves rustling in the wind. stalks of wheat. picking fruit. greenhouses. heart as strong as a mountain. values simplicity. daisies dotted across a collarbone. curls crowned with flowers. folded pile of sweaters in warm hues. pulling out fresh baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐘𝐒𝐔𝐒. drunk shitposter. on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second. seductive smirks. untamed curls. rich fabrics on dark skin. sleek furred panthers. theatre masks. stage productions. receiving a standing ovation. rose caught between their teeth. being the baby of the bunch. wild parties that last from sundown to sunup. creeping vines. inspiring loyalty. grand opera houses. masquerade balls. rolls of film. shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine spilled floor. pouring champagne into flutes. lives for the applause.

𝐇𝐄𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐒. the calloused hands of someone who knows labor. sweaty brow. flame burning in their eyes. inventive mind. broad shoulders. steampunk goggles. nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes. ashes. striking a match. blueprints for future projects. fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades. wrestles with bitterness. work boots have seen better years. wrinkled plaid shirts. iron melted in blazing fire. huge jackets. crafting masterpieces. greased stained overalls. fascination with robotics. pain is fuel. stack of weaponry. even their muscles have muscles.

𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐀. resting bitch face. dressed to the nines. cows grazing on a pasture.cool rain. loving and hating fiercely. hand clutching a string of pearls. large chandelier with glittering crystals. plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims. romance to realism. pictures of the sky while flying on a plane. files that under fuck it. downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix. like their selfie or you’re grounded. knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man. dark eyes that penetrate your soul. marble and gold.

𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐒. devil - may - care smile. always up - to - date on the latest technology. will steal your french fries. does it for the vine. shitposter. puts googly eyes on everything. meme hoarder. long drives on the highway. ma and pop diners. spontaneous road trips. folded maps. fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop. shooting hoops on the basketball court. chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations. goes jogging in the morning. mixes redbull with coffee. menace on april fool’s. hoodies and sneakers.

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐍. storm with skin. colorful coral reefs. waves crashing against the shore. stroking the soft fur of a cat. their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop. tousled locks. clothes smeared with paint. owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more. leather jackets. fondness for diy projects. handwriting that flows across the page. nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin. velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams. mood as ever - changing as the sea. the roar of a motorcycle. compass with a spinning arrow.

𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒. walking home alone in the early morning. back alleys. drinking alone in a graveyard. crippling loneliness hidden by sarcasm and cynicism. crows picking a carcass. untended dead flowers. the black sheep of the family. black coffee. money can’t buy you happiness. murder mystery dinner parties. blood on your shirt collar. dust illuminated by sunlight. classical music. dogs are better than people. a quiet wrath. shady business deals. taking what you are owed. paint it black. seasonal affective disorder. popping the suit collar. grey rain on a cityscape.

𝐙𝐄𝐔𝐒. thunder in their heart. running on coffee. flash of lightning. unnatural charisma. eloquence. badass in a nice suit. aficionado of history. force of nature. lennyface. nightmare - filled nights. proud arm around their lover’s waist. high - rise buildings. planes soaring through a cloudless sky. technician on the piano. maintains order. strong handshake. juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease. expensive watch.

Tagged by: The absolutely lovely @machiavillainus~ <3

Tagging: Steal it. Revolutions need anarchy, after all.

#A Boy Without Armor (OOC)#All My Boyhood All I Wanted Was To Be Loved (About Muse)#What Armor Hides and Grins Deny (Headcanons)#((I did this before but it's been awhile so no harm in doing it again.))

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