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tracer85s · 4 years ago

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yizhan fic rec (2)

part 1

glute bridges by sunstainedsheets

[explicit, 29k, complete]

personal trainer and dancer yibo and graphic designer xiao zhan. GYM AU omg i love this. xiao zhan signs up for a gym membership and personal training sessions where he’s totally not ogling his coach. there’s also a scene with xiao zhan attempting to converse with yibo in korean that got me cackling lmao, our resident koreaboo indeed. it was also great to see mentor yibo here, it reminded me of his prod 101 days when he was so intimidating as a mentor, also... very sexy. anyway i adore this, they’re just thirsting over each other, especially yibo checking out the zhass, it’s okay bobo we’ve all been there

i’d wear gucci for you by Anonymous

[teen and up, 16k, complete]

abo au where alpha yibo and omega xiao zhan are photographed going into xiao zhan’s apartment together so they’re forced to pretend that they’re mated to prevent a scandal. this has become my favourite fics because i’m an absolute sucker for fake/pretend relationships and the way the writer incorporated canon stuff like yibo answering interview questions for xiao zhan ugh guys i love this fic. when yibo was so exasperated near the end and said “i’m wearing gucci for you” & waving his hand i really lost it. JUST READ THIS I PROMISE IT’S A GOOD READ

if you would only let you by gdgdbaby

[explicit, 32k, complete]

ah where do i even start with this one? xiao zhan gets drunk and texts yibo, yibo shows up at his house and whisks him away on a road trip. i felt so much emotions reading this fic, everything was so raw and it really deals with the pressures of being famous and homophobia. this is a super realistic fic and there’s a lot of emotional hurt/comfort, you’ll literally end up wanting to wrap these two in a big blanket and just protect them from the world (lol like we don’t already want to do that). my absolute favourite part was the confession scene, like it was so messy and funny, and it’s just so them, especially the pokemon part lmao. this art is based on that scene and it’s exactly how i imagined it 🥺 this is just so well written and it’s one of my favs!

love in the time of coding by theivoryflute

[explicit, 26k, complete]

hacker yibo and cyber security engineer xiao zhan. yibo cyber flirts with xiao zhan and also flirts with him in real life. *SCREAMS* i never thought we’d have a hacker au in the fandom but i’ve been blessed, this was literally the cutest online romance fic with a bunch of mutual pining. my favourite dialogue is “the whiplash from wanting to ride yibo to wanting to coddle him was severe” i’m literally wheezing, this is a perfect representation of the fandom, also the usernames that yibo picked got me cackling there’s one in particular that made me laugh, you’ll know what it is when you see it so go read this gem!

Peace & Love by ella_minnow

[explicit, 51k, complete]

my favourite writer is back again with this baby! idol dance captain xiao zhan and non-famous dancer yibo!!! ARE WE KIDDING? slow burn sdoc au? I’M SO IN WTF. guys listen to me. yibo has a low ponytail and arm tattoos *goes feral* one of my favourite scenes from this fic is when xiao zhan had to convince yibo to join his team (bro. he didn’t even have to try) because yibo says “no, Xiao-laoshi. I would of course never leave you.” i’m screeching, totally gave me tgcf hua cheng vibes. my absolute favourite scene, however, is when yibo says xiao zhan doesn’t have to worry about sending him home because he’s going to win everything... like... the sheer bde this man exudes in real life and fiction... very sexy of him. i also love how this showcases how well they work together and of course the *whispers* celebratory sex!

Hyacinth by stickyriceu

[explicit, 76k, complete]

racer yibo celebrates after a competition and meets hyacinth’s number one host, zhan-er. slow burn with LOTS of pining and angst. i finished this in one sitting and i’m still screaming over it, it’s so good!!! genuinely felt my soul leave my body reading this because zhan zhan with shoulder length hair? tied up in a messy bun? *SCREECHES* everyone go read and get your angst on, don’t worry, there’s a happy ending ;)

Song of the Sea by LaMachina17

[explicit, 48k, complete]

mermaid xiao zhan and pirate yibo !!! xiao zhan meets yibo and has one very exciting night with him so he ends up following him aboard their pirate ship! i’m literally on my knees praising this fic. i will re-read this until i die, it’s perfect. AND THEY’RE CAT DADS IN THIS FIC TOO. seriously i don’t need to say anything else go read this gem

The Dragons by MadFilaments

[explicit, 31k, complete]

xiao zhan is his village’s marriage offering to dragon lord yibo. are you kidding me? shapeshifter yibo? arranged marriage fic? YES. this is one of my favourites, i always re-read it because the way their relationship just naturally progresses in the story warms my heart 😩 AND they call each other husband and i just *melts* they’re ! so ! domestic ! there’s angst but it’s not too bad and i’m in love with yibo’s speech about how dragons love forever *cries*

golden hour by Deinde

[explicit, 35k, complete]

professional snowboarder yibo teaches actor xiao zhan how to snowboard in a show! OH MY GOD THIS WAS SO GOOD *SCREAMS* it’s literally just them flirting and being absolutely thirsty for each other, especially in the photoshoot scene dear lord. i’m so annoying, this fic tab has been open in my safari for forever and i forgot about it until i watched ddu’s snow sports episode so don’t do the same thing as me and go! read! this! fic! immediately!

Falling In Love by beeswaxing

[mature, 65k, complete]

celebrities yibo and xiao zhan star in a we got married/hello baby inspired reality show! oh my god. the domestic fluff in this i am reeling, THIS IS JUST ADORABLE. this is definitely the domestic kid fic i so desperately needed 😭 and the way the writer added in those canon bjyx details is just perfect, everyone go read this please!!

Legend of the Jade Rabbit: The Musical by emma_screams

[explicit, 12k, complete]

high school au with lion hybrid yibo and bunny hybrid xiao zhan. this fic has musicals! it’s really quite fluffy, yibo literally calls zhan zhan “bunny gege” and i’m just *SCREECHING* also i love protective yibo 😭 i really love this it’s so cute & has a very refreshing plot!

pick me, pick me up by domeeneec

[mature, 10k, complete]

college/uni wrong number au where xiao zhan keeps accidentally calling yibo to bail him out of his bad dates and yibo ends up becoming his “personal dating assistant” this was the FLUFFIEST. although there is some light angst when xiao zhan drunk dials yibo and cries about not being able to find love, but i swear this is super soft and fluffy!!! READ THIS FOR SEROTONIN

Ruby and Gold by aces_low

[explicit, 16k, complete]

mob boss xiao zhan and his trophy husband yibo. HELLO? MURD3R HUSBANDS YIZHAN? this was such a fun read! trigger warnings for blood and violence though so look out for those! yizhan will literally not hesitate to beat you tf up in this fic they’re so badass here but they’re so soft with each other. xiao zhan literally calls yibo gǒu zǎizǎi and tiánxīn i am. Melting. also there’s a proposal. it’s unromantic but still so romantic, i love it. i also saw this art and i think this would be how they look in the fic

To Be Human by purplemonster

[teen and up, 19k, complete]

humanoid yibo and ceo xiao zhan. xiao zhan tests out his company’s newest creation and falls in love along the way. android aus always hurt me so. good. and this one’s not an exception. it’s pretty slow burn and definitely angst-y but it has a happy ending! i love the domesticity, i have no idea why i love grocery scenes so much? but anyway this is perfect for a rainy day and you’ll coo at the ending

Falling by brooklinegirl

[explicit, 42k, complete]

yb and xz behind the scenes while filming. this was such a melancholic read for me (even though there’s so much papapa) because they pine SO HARD at the start, don’t get me wrong though, it’s also cute because there’s so much canon flirting!but my heart really broke when filming was ending and yb’s thoughts were “We could run away together. Miss our flights. Stay here in Hengdian, or fuck it, go somewhere where no one knows us and just...” *sobs* pls go read!!!

What’s Your Emergency? by bluefloral

[general, 2k, complete]

police officer yibo and single father xiao zhan! yuan, xiao zhan’s son calls 911 for help with his math homework and officer yibo helps him 🥺 this was such an adorable short read!

#bjyx #yizhan #bjyxszd #yizhan fic rec #fic rec

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madhyanas · 4 years ago

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the sweetest and most important sound

Part [TBD] of the Hospitality series

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x fem!Reader

Rating: T/PG-13 (Mainly due to verbal teasing and extremely mild language)

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: None, really. Some non-sexual intimacy, if you’d like to avoid that.

A/N: this is my first fic that’s staying posted, so feedback is welcome. i do have a series in mind with paz and this specific reader. check it out on ao3, too, if you want to see more detailed tags. title comes from a quote by dale carnegie.

big inspirations for this were @no-droids, @vercopaanir and @its-alltheway. also, i’m very new to tumblr, and @jangofctts has been lovely :)

Golden.

That’s what you see, what you feel. Stopped on some backwater, Outer Rim planet, your little travelling party finally has some time to relax. To tread on soft, grassy earth, and breathe in the sweet scent of flowers in the breeze. It’s a welcome change from recycled air and solid, mechanical floors.

The fresh, crisp forest atmosphere. You can taste it on your tongue, feel the chill of it as you inhale. You can detect the fragrance of berries, somewhere far off in the trees, and the earthy, waterlogged scent of silt closer by. A stream, perhaps.

You don’t know the name of the planet; you didn’t bother to ask Mando, excited as you were. You suspect it doesn’t have one; so untouched by war and Imperial rule that it just… remained. Literally, a land that time forgot. Someplace so out of the way that it soothes even Mando’s constant vigilance.

Two suns set over the horizon, and the sky is a dreamy blaze of orange and violet. Insects buzz faintly in the background, and you sigh.

The Hawk IV stands behind you, hatch down, as you rearrange some logs around Mando, who’s preparing firewood. Vosca’s giggles fill the air as she scampers through patches of tall grass. Keeping a close eye on her, you catch flashes of a crimson forehead as she stalks some kind of creature. A frog, you think.

The mild, familiar scent of her is comforting. You rub the white, geometric markings on your cheeks absent-mindedly, and will yourself to relax. She’s close, she’s safe, she’s happy.

It’s a nice thought to have.

“Give me a moment. I’ll be back,” Mando says suddenly, and you blink. The fireplace is lit, you notice, flames crackling. Your sturdy canvas satchel has been moved to sit upon one of the logs, noticeably dusted off. He stands, patiently waiting for you to respond before he goes. Helmet inclined towards you with a respect that manages to warm your cheeks every time.

“Ah, yeah. Of course.” You pause, and joke, “Just don’t run away with the ship, huh?”

There’s a burst of static through the vocoder, and you think it could be a snort, before he steps forward. His gloved hand falls on your shoulder, and you swallow thickly at the closeness. A scant few inches lie between the tip of your nose and his cuirass. “I would never.”

There’s a depth to his low voice that resonates within you. As if he’s taking an oath, kneeling at your altar. It’s… a lot more sincerity than you expect.

“Oh. Well, of course. I think Vosca would throw a fit.” You grin, attempting levity, but he shakes his head firmly. Leaving no room for debate.

“Even then, even if she were with me. I would— I would not leave you. I could not.”

The hand on your shoulder squeezes gently, and his helmet inclines down to your face, like he’s imploring you to understand. Staring up at him, your lips part as his meaning finally reaches you. His broad figure is backlit by the dusky glow around you, casting his silhouette over your smaller frame, and you like to think that behind the helm, those eyes are staring back with just as much wonder.

Your mouth is dry, as if you’ve crossed a desert for years. Only now finding the water to quench your thirst. His hand on your shoulder, as heavy and muscled as you know it to be, does not feel like a weight. It’s pulling you up, rising, and there are no words to describe the lightness in your heart.

He ducks his head then — the movement registers as shy, impossibly — and the palm slides off your shoulder, lingering down your arm, before ultimately leaving you at the hand. The cool kiss of leather on your skin makes your breathing hitch. A modulated sigh, before he repeats softly, “I’ll be back. Faster than you know.” He turns and begins the short walk to the ship.

There’s a bubbling urge to say something. “No need for dramatics,” you call after him, wiggling your toes in your boots. “But best hurry back, Mandalorian.”

He hesitates, a split-second pause that you would have missed, had you known him any less. You almost think you’ve imagined it, because when have you ever known Mando to hesitate? But then he continues without looking back, disappearing into the hull of the ship.

You slump down on a log bonelessly, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden. Your cheeks ache, and you realise you’re smiling.

“Ruusaan, Ruusaan!” A whirlwind of scarlet limbs tumbles in front of you. Startled, you blink at the little Zeltron girl. It’s rare that anyone manages to get the jump on you, but by now you know that Mando and his ward are exceptions to almost every rule in your book.

There are leaves and twigs stuck in the two brown braids running down the back of her head. She grins toothily at you, a smear of dirt on one cheek. Really, it’s more a bearing of teeth than anything else, feral thing that Vosca is. Her eyes are bright, shining with the thrill of a successful hunt, and she thrusts her little arms towards you. “Look what I caught!”

In Vosca’s grimy grasp, there’s a blue, particularly fat creature, rather like a toad. Held at the middle, its six limbs dangle loosely at the sides. Your nostrils flare minutely, but can’t pick up any scents of poisons or toxins, and you relax a fraction. It casts an unimpressed gaze over you once, and attempts a croak, but the child’s clutching grip digs in too deep to allow for the swell of its belly. Those lazy, golden eyes widen in panic, and you balk.

“Hey, bug, let’s just put it down for now, yeah?” Hastily, you extract the toad from Vosca’s hands, and she pouts at you. You still, and cradle your palms around the creature’s stomach, fingers resting gently on the front, in a caress rather than a pincer-grip.

“See here,” you explain, leaning in, as if you’re trading secrets. She ducks her head towards you in curiosity, and there’s a burst of tenderness in your chest. “We’ve got sharp, pointy fingers for animals like these. Gotta be careful. Be soft with it.”

Vosca’s eyes widen and she nods her head vigorously. A few dried leaves fall to the ground. A beat, then she asks shyly, “Can I try, please?”

Always so polite. While you don’t know for sure, you suspect it’s Mando’s influence. In any case, you don’t think you could deny her even if she’d demanded it. “Sure, bug.” Gently, you pass the toad back into her dusty, red palms. With a watchful eye, you see how quickly she takes to correction. Now holding the scared little thing with more care, less force. Precariously tilting it onto her chest, she frees one hand to stroke it tenderly across the back. The corner of your mouth ticks up fondly.

Then, carefully, she kneels down, and releases it. The toad immediately hops away into the tall grass with a vengeful ribbit, and your brows raise. Sensing the question on your face, she turns her face up to yours, doe eyes blinking up at you.

“It wasn’t prey,” Vosca says simply. “S’just for fun. Wouldn’t be fair to hurt it.” She shoots you another toothy smile, filling her whole face with innocent joy.

Huh. Always keeping you on your toes, this one. You return her grin as she sits next to you on the log. “Ah, that’s right, bug. Good girl.”

You lift your arm and she snuggles into your side, her scrawny body fitting into yours neatly. Lovingly, you press a kiss into her hair, eyes falling shut. You keep your head resting on hers, and she heaves a sigh as you idly stroke through the loose strands at the nape of her neck.

This is how Mando finds you, later. Half-asleep, curled around each other. Your eyes open at the fuzzy, tingling feeling on the back of your neck, and lo and behold: he’s watching you as he makes his way towards the makeshift campsite. His gait is familiar to you; the broad saunter of a man confident in his abilities, yet not foolish enough to be cocky. As if he couldn’t fill up a room already, his walk only amplifies his presence.

You blink lethargically, trying to focus. The sky is now a deep indigo, the bare beginnings of twinkling stars appearing across the heavens. It’ll be fully dark, soon.

The Mandalorian comes to stand over you. Once, you would have found his constant presence menacing. But now you smile at him, grateful for his company. It’s sweet, you think, how awkward he is. If you know what to look for. Most don’t have the chance to look beyond the beskar, and the assortment of weapons he lugs around.

He seems… duller, somehow. You shake your head lightly, dusting off the lingering fatigue, and you realise it’s true in the most literal sense. He’s not reflecting light as much as you would expect.

Aside from the helmet, he wears no beskar at all. Dressed in a dark, high-necked, shirt and canvas trousers, Mando seems comfortable. Relaxed. It’s a good look for him, you think.

“Did she fall asleep?” he asks you, nodding at Vosca, nuzzled in your arms. Her head emerges from where she’d buried it in your side, yawning blearily.

“I’m not… M’not sleepy,” she whines, squishing a chubby cheek against you. You and Mando both chuckle.

“Of course not, ad’ika.” You think he’ll hold his arms out to hold her, pick her up, but you’re pleasantly surprised when he just takes a seat next to you. The log creaks under his bulk, even without the added steel.

Vosca grumbles something under her breath, and you snort as she wriggles further into your warmth. She slumps bit by bit, falling asleep once more. You glance down at her, and the love you feel is all-encompassing.

Because you do love her. Your girl, just as much as she is Mando’s. You don’t know if she thinks of you as a mother, and the thought stings a little. An aunt, perhaps?

But without a doubt, you know she’s your child.

You’re startled out of your thoughts as a weight settles over your shoulders, and you look at the man next to you. Mando’s draping a cloak over you, tucking it around your frame and over the little girl in your arms. Out of the corner of your eye, you recognise the sturdy, brass-coloured clasp as his own.

“O-oh. You don’t have to…”

“You’ll get cold.”

He shuffles closer to fasten the clasp. As he raises his gloved hands and leans in, you wet your lips nervously.

His helmet shifts, ever so slightly, to follow the motion.

“But what about you?” you ask quietly, heart hammering in your chest. His long fingers meddle with the clasp at your clavicle; the weight of them on your person seems astronomical, for such a small, small thing. In the shining surface of the helmet, you can see the outline of your face, small and vaguely illuminated in the firelight, framed by those bold white strokes. But when you see them in Mando’s helmet, for once, you don’t think of your father’s matching stripes, of what you inherited from him. You think of how close you two are, in this moment.

He’s so close you can hear him breathe, too faint to be picked up by the modulator. There’s a small puff of air, escaping under the lip of his helm. Raw, unfiltered. You cling to it with all your heart.

“I will be fine, Ruusaan,” he rumbles. He’s leaning over Vosca’s snoozing body between you, arching carefully so he doesn’t disturb her. He’s… really quite close now.

Inhaling as subtly as you can, you catch the scent of him. Lingering on the thick wool, a clean blend of soap, blaster residue and freshly cut grass. Something smoky, too. It’s more soothing than you expect. Involuntarily, your nose twitches in delight, and his helmet tilts a fraction in response. You rush to distract him.

“But— But the armour.” Mando stares. “You’re not wearing any. Isn’t it cold? With— Without it, I mean.”

He dodges the question entirely. “Would you like me to put it on?” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice, sweetening his low baritone, and he quietens to a murmur as he sticks his head forward condescendingly. “I understand if this is too… scandalous."

You stifle an outraged squawk, and remove an arm from holding Vosca to swat his bicep. Your hand bounces harmlessly off corded muscle and you look away from him, cheeks burning. He just laughs at you, muffled for fear of waking the girl at your side.

You huff, resolutely averting your gaze, but it’s for naught. A large palm comes to cradle the side of your face, and your face feels tiny in its hold. He directs your eyes back to the visor with more care you’d ever expect, had you not known him so well. The smooth leather against your cheek is grounding, an anchor amongst the dizzying, overwhelming ocean of his presence. Surely, he can feel your flaming blush through the glove. In your embarrassment, a peculiar strike of courage grabs you by the throat.

With your free hand, you hold the glove cradling your face. Without taking your eyes off him, you lean into the touch, exhaling gently.

Mando stills. You can’t tell who’s predator or prey, here. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Deliberately, you squeeze your fingers around his own and an unfamiliar, choked noise comes out through the modulator.

You stare at him, and realise there’s hardly any distance between you. It’s nothing obscene, never could be with Vosca dozing in your arms, and yet you feel so giddy. There’s a type of intimacy here that you’ve never experienced before, never imagined before.You’re close enough that your breath fogs on the beskar.

“Mando…” you breathe.

Suddenly, the figure between you stretches awake with a yawn. You jump away from Mando as Vosca awakens with a long, languid yawn. The man beside her, a little subtler, leans back with the fluid, practiced grace of a warrior.

“Are you okay, Ruusaan?” she asks sleepily, oblivious to the moment now broken. She pulls the cloak away from her to face you properly.

“W-what? Of course I am, hun, why…”

“S’just,” she starts, rubbing one eye. “I got woken up. Your heart’s beating really fast.”

Your eyes widen. Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit. You try to backtrack, “How about you go back to sleep, bug? It’s late.” You can feel Mando’s stare on you. Piercing, even through the steel.

Vosca frowns at you, scrunching her nose up endearingly. “But then you and alor’ad will be without me.”

After a moment of floundering, struggling to come up with an answer, Mando beats you to it. Planting a gentle, reassuring hand on her head from behind, he says simply, “We’ll never be without you, adi’ka. You know this.”

She leans her head completely backwards, and her braids dangle in the air. Arching her neck to look at him upside down, the vibrant red of her skin reflects in his helmet. There’s a flash of hesitation as she considers, and you jump at the opportunity.

“Bedtime, bug,” you say, standing. Mando’s nearly your height, you notice, even as he sits. You stuff the thought down. Later. “Got a big day tomorrow.”

Vosca mutters something under her breath moodily — something about how everyday’s the same — but her eyelids are drooping, and you figure you can let it slide. Just this once.

Maker, you’re impatient.

You sigh. Again. You hate to undo Mando’s work, but… “C’mon, hun. Floor’s more comfortable.” You undo the clasp deftly, and some subconscious level, it occurs to you that Mando is dextrous. More so than anyone you’ve ever met, probably. Fastening the clasp would take seconds.

No reason for him to linger as long as he did.

You smile faintly to yourself, and the ever-present heat burning in your cheeks this evening unfurls through your face.

You bundle the girl in Mando’s cloak as she lays down in the shallow grass. Tugging your canvas bag towards you, and place it beneath her head.

Kneeling down next to her, you stroke her hair once, twice. “G’night, alor’ad, g’night, Ruusaan,” Vosca mumbles, eyes falling shut once more.

“Goodnight, bug.” You lean down to peck her forehead tenderly, and she snuggles into her covering.

“Goodnight,” Mando returns kindly. At last, when you’re convinced she’s really out for the count, you steel your courage and look back to him.

From this angle, he’s glowing. Your lips part in wonder as you marvel at the rolling flames reflecting in the helmet. The flickering bronze and gold and scarlet washing over his bulky frame, defining the hard lines of his arms and chest beneath the shirt like something out of a painting. A relic of another time. Beautiful in its detail. Regal, even when most relaxed.

Silently, he holds a gloved hand out to you. You blink at it for a moment, too overwhelmed by this man you know so little about but oh, would you like to learn.

You take his hand, and suddenly he’s pulling you up with him to stand. Stumbling a little, your other palm comes to steady yourself on his chest. The movement feels so natural, so instinctual, and you worry you’re being presumptuous.

But then Mando’s free hand comes to rest on your waist — “Oh.” — and all other thoughts leave your mind.

“She’s asleep,” he notes, and you can feel his deep voice rumbling. Through the shirt, vulnerable and unprotected, his chest lies beneath your fingers. Solid muscle, yes, but there’s the soft give of flesh just like anyone else. It’s… nice. Pleasant, in the way it reminds you how human he is. How he lets himself be, in these fleeting moments of peace.

You hum. “Finally.” The hand on his chest gradually makes its way up his pectoral, tracing the ridge of his clavicle, before coming to rest on his shoulder. Without the pauldron, you can feel just how taut he holds himself. “Relax, Mando,” you whisper, rubbing your thumb back and forth in an attempt to soothe whatever’s running through his mind.

“Could tell you the same,” he replies smoothly, but you feel the strain in his shoulders lessen slightly under your gentle ministrations. The helmet tilts forward to hover next to your ear; it’s somewhat awkward, with how much he needs to bend down to do it, but that’s alright, you think. “Careful, Ruusaan. Does your heart still beat so quickly?”

Your jaw clenches momentarily, if only out of sheer embarrassment, because you know he’s right. “That’s— that’s not— Come on, Mando.”

The man chuckles, and at this meagre distance, you can feel it in your soul. Straightening just a little, he rests the side of his helm against your head. Not leaning, per se, or applying weight. Just touching. Keeping contact. The cool surface of beskar feels chilling against your molten cheeks.

With the hand joined with his, you curl your fingers, embracing the gaps between his. You both linger like that, for a while. Basking in the haze of firelight and safety; frozen in a half-dance, holding each other contently.

Then you realise. In another, strange instance of boldness, you murmur, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed yours either, smooth talker.” The reassuring thud thud thud beneath your fingertips is steady, as always. But you feel it’s more insistent, more urgent than you’d expect.

He doesn’t stutter or fumble like you do, but there’s a bashful sort of groan through the vocoder. It really shouldn’t be endearing as it is. “Ah, well. Seems I’ve been caught.” He plays along in a plaintive, mournful tone, and you stifle a snort. “Can’t be helped, I suppose.”

You nudge the helmet with your cheek playfully. “Oh? What’s that?”

He breathes a particularly wounded sigh, and you feel rather than hear him sober as he murmurs, “This is what you do to me, Ruusaan.”

Your jaw falls slack. Oh.

Your head is reeling with the implications of it. Him affecting you was one thing, because how could he not? With the way he fills a room and laughs at your stupid jokes and tells Vosca bedtime stories and holds you so carefully it feels like a lover caressing glass, about to shatter any moment—

Kinda how he’s holding you now, actually.

Your hand on his shoulder brings his head up from where it rests to look at you properly, and holds the blue steel in the indent where his cheek would be. You’ve been struggling for words, wondering how to respond to the affections of someone you admire so much. How to do him justice.

“You are so much to me, Mando.”

Timidly, your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and once more, his helmet tilts to follow the movement. You feel a kind of longing in that little shift, an age-old yearning borne of dedication to the Creed, from a man who feels everything so strongly.

The knowledge that you two will always be separated by a layer of beskar is always floating over your head. To say that you’ve made your peace with it would be a bold-faced lie, but—

Well, it’s who he is. To disrespect his Creed would be to disrespect him, and that you cannot allow.

But for the first time, you wonder how he feels about it. If that perennial ache in your chest whenever you glance at the helm resides in his, too.

Mando’s hand, previously resting on the slope of your waist, comes to hold your cheek. As if there’s a mirror between you, paralleling your stance to each other like clockwork. Two halves of a whole, reflecting each other.

Gradually, he tilts your face up to his. Leaning in, he touches the forehead of the helmet to yours, and your eyelids flutter shut, lashes barely grazing the metal. This time, the cold metal against your skin feels like a reprieve, freeing you from the burning sensation.

Like a kiss, you think absently. Is that what this is?

You’ve seen him do this before, with Vosca. Never truly knowing what it meant, what it signified to him, you’d left it alone.

You try to ask him, to make sense of the maelstrom of affection and yearning and want. “Mando—”

But his shoulders tense suddenly. “No.”

You blink. “N-no?”

He draws away, then. His hand is still cradling your face, but the helmet retreats, and you panic. What happened? What did you do? What boundary did you overstep to ruin something so torturously good—

He says your name. The name your mother gave you, not the nickname he and your girl call you in their language. “May I give you something?”

You’re confused, to say the least. The emotional range he’s currently choosing to display could give you whiplash. He’s not a very materialistic man, you know, and what could he possibly be giving you now, in this moment?

“I— I don’t think you could give me anything greater than this.”

He deflates. “Oh, ner kar’ta,” he croaks, stroking his thumb over your flushed cheek. Even through the modulator, the foreign syllables drip from his mouth like liquid gold, tongue rolling over the consonants in a way that makes you shiver. “I would be honoured to try.”

Wordlessly, you nod, still not fully comprehending what he means.

He must sense your bemusement. The grip on your side tightens nervously, and you dig your heels in to swallow a squeak. “My name is not ‘Mando’, cyare.”

And the world collapses beneath your feet.

This is new territory, dangerous territory. This is uncharted land, and you feel like you’re trespassing on the tricky, treacherous land of his very being.

You must look ridiculous. Like a fish, mouth bobbing open and shut. He chuckles, a small, subdued thing, and you immediately think it doesn’t suit him. The urge to fix it, to help him, crawls up your spine and settles in your gut.

You bite down the nerves scrambling up your throat to accept what he’s giving you. To reassure this man in your arms, who you have come to care for so deeply, and for yourself. To satiate the niggling curiosity in that corner of your mind left forcefully ignored for so long.

“If you’re sure.” You pause, and add, “Only if you’re sure. This isn’t… an obligation.” It’s somewhere between a question and a statement. You can both hear the moniker you’re avoiding, the cavernous gap opened up by what he’s offering you.

“I know. This is what I wish to give.” And there’s the Mandalorian you know, steadfast and confident, unwavering in the face of adversity. Willing to cross the gap into the unknown with you.

You remain silent, and step closer to press yourself to him. Feeling his pounding heartbeat against yours. Allowing the words to come from him, at his own pace, the warmth of your combined body heat hopefully calming his nerves.

Just as your eyes drift shut, content to wait as long as he needs, you hear it. Quiet, rasped through the helmet.

“Paz. Paz Vizsla.”

You inhale sharply, and look up. Oh, stars. It feels surreal, having a name to the face. Or lack thereof. To think he’d really trust you with such a core part of his being. You’re not sure if this breaks his Creed, or if there are loopholes, but as of now, you don’t care.

It… suits him. Short, robust. Yet somewhat lyrical on the tongue.

“Can I say it?” you ask meekly. The last thing you need right now to is to overstep, not when you’ve come so far.

“Please,” he breathes.

And the floodgates open. A smile breaks over your face, soft and eager, and you swell with affection. “Paz.”

A beat passes, in which everything you love hangs in the balance, and then he laughs. A true, full-bodied, bark of laughter that would ring in your ears long after it stops, but it doesn’t — it spills out of him like water spluttering through the fissure of a dam, bursting forth with all the weight of its years of confinement. He keeps laughing and laughing and then he’s holding you tightly with both arms, swinging you around. With anyone else, the action would’ve scared you. Would’ve been interpreted as a wild, uncontrolled invasion of space.

But with Mando— No. With Paz, you feel like you’re flying. You’re reminded of your days piloting through hyperspace, and the pride of swimming amongst the stars.

You shriek as your feet leave the ground, but it soon dissolves into giggles as he holds you above him.

(The ease with which he can manhandle you, can wrap both of those large, large hands around your comparatively diminutive hips, brings a blush to your face. But that’s a thought for another time.)

Eventually, he places you back on solid ground, and you beam up at him. He’s panting lightly, though you know lifting you was an easy task for someone of his strength. It’s okay. You feel breathless, too.

“Only with me,” he says. “And Vosca.”

You nod gravely. Maker, you’d never use it with anyone, just for the pleasure of knowing he trusts you. “I give you my word.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see the girl in question snoring lightly, still bundled up in Paz’s cloak. Somehow still asleep; you’re immensely grateful.

He returns the nod, and it’s funny how formal it seems compared to the little display you just put on. Paz stares for a moment longer, then huffs. “You sound like a Mandalorian.”

“Is that… good?”

He’s quiet, like he’s trying to find the words. “We may rubbing off on you— I may be rubbing off on you.”

You take a moment to look at him. Beskar gleaming in the moonlight, softly reflecting the fire behind you. He’s bared before you in a way that makes you feel safe. Maybe even loved.

“That might not be too bad.”

And so it goes. You and Paz stand under the stars, flames crackling at your feet, bending towards each other like flowers to the sun.

———

#paz vizsla #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x you #paz vizsla/you #paz vizsla/reader #my writing #the mandalorian #reader-insert #original child character #she's vosca and she's my baby ok damn #could be part of a series? i'll let y'all know #star wars #the heavy infantry #heavy infantry #series: hospitality #sw #EDIT: is now part of a series! check 'series: hospitality' for more :)

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mira--mira · 3 years ago

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N: Any fic ideas brewing that you’d care to share? V: Are there certain comments you’ve received on your stories that have stuck with you? Y: What are your thoughts on your personal satisfaction with something you’ve written vs. the popularity of your stories? Do you tend to be most satisfied with your most popular stories? ~~~~~~~

A. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic. AD. Do you accept prompts?

Wanted to say a big Thank you for all your amazing work, honestly just reading fics have made my day many many times.

Thank you so much!

N: Any fic ideas brewing that you’d care to share?

I joked that Twisting Fate was the fic that completely derailed my non-OoT writing schedule, but that honor actually goes to two fics, the other which is still a WIP and an Out of Time snippet: "Summer Solstice".

I lovingly refer to it as my "lore-dump" snippet because it focuses on Madara celebrating the titular summer solstice. More details about the Uchiha's beliefs and religious practices are brought up, what it was like before he was made into a ghost (and finally ties back into Sasuke's early line in OoT that Amaterasu 'looked away' from the Uchiha after the fact) as well as contrasting it to the Senju beliefs, of which Hashirama is not as devout as Madara is to his own, and Yamato and Sai who are both atheists. Yamato wants Madara to have his celebration because he thinks it'll be good for him but Sai is opposed, though he doesn't try to forcibly stop it, because he's worried that if Madara saw there was no Amaterasu, he'd be more crushed than if he didn't celebrate the holiday at all. There's also a scene with Neko-baa 😉. (It's 5K and nowhere near finished 😅😬)

V: Are there certain comments you’ve received on your stories that have stuck with you?

A lot of the early ones, tbh. I first started writing in BNHA (and really want to get back to that fic) and there was an awesome little group of regular commenters that really helped me feel confident about my writing (Shiryu @shiryusamarkanda, captainofmyfleet, beccaaahhhh) I find it hard to articulate how much those early comments meant to me, especially as they took an interest in the fic and engaged when I asked questions in my author's notes about what they thought. Even now those are still my favorite kinds, the comments that are basically "I love x" "I can't believe xyz happened" "is this setting up something about a?" etc. I worked through a lot of my imposter syndrome when I started posting and I know how to get myself out of it now, but those types of comments really mean the world.

A lot of time writing to me feels like I'm in a box, and I'm just typing away at my keyboard. I like being in the box, I go in there willingly but sometimes it's nice to cut open a hole and ask a question and get a response instead of constantly wondering 'I think that's a good line...it's a good line to me but I've read this 50+ times, would someone who's not me think it's a good line too?' or 'oh I love this plot point, I'm so excited to see how it fits into the whole...wait, does it fit right? does it keep up the same pace and energy or does it deviate too much?' I'm thankful for all comments, but readers who engage, ask questions, and take the time to copy and paste their favorite lines in their comments are just absolutely amazing. I've never deleted a single comment, I doubt most authors do, just mark them as read in my inbox and whenever I'm feeling down or unmotivated I go start rereading or just look at the number of total comments and tear up a little that I've come as far as I have. 💖

Y: What are your thoughts on your personal satisfaction with something you’ve written vs. the popularity of your stories? Do you tend to be most satisfied with your most popular stories?

I do tend to be satisfied with my most popular stories! Mostly because I write when I'm engaged with an idea and that usually turns into a multi-chapter work which, statistically, is more likely to be popular just based on exposure and repeated updates. My top three popular stories all follow this outline, and I would rank them according to personal satisfaction as of now: Out of Time, The Diverging Path, and Birds of a Feather and they fall neatly into how much time/how long I've spent actively writing. For one-shots it's a bit mixed. "Fireproof" did insanely well for a fic that's just over 600 words and was tagged as a genfic. My MerMay series "Anchored" and "Oasis" kind of bombed and I was really surprised neither broke the 100 kudos mark, though I did notice a dip in activity in my feed for kudos/comments/views in general between April and May of this year so...idk what's up with that lol.

A. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Out of Time. No joke. There's a reason it turned into the monster it did and that reason is I think it literally ticks off everything I want to write about. I like fix-it fics but I realized after BNHA that I like to take apart a complete work. I have all the canon information (not counting Boruto) and I can rework it as I see fit, like it's a giant puzzle. Time travel would let me do it in a new, interesting way (esp time travel forward) and I have a secure enough grasp on characters that I can imagine all the new interactions within the familiar framework without it feeling overdone to me. Add in my love of kiddo!hashimada specifically, established relationships, found family, and a chock ton of worldbuilding and...that's OoT 😂.

AD. Do you accept prompts?

Sure! I can't promise I'll write them, especially with the mess my schedule currently is...but I plan to do more reader-submitted prompts like I did in May for my hashimada anniversary, and you're always welcome to try your luck and submit one now and see if my brain latches onto it like a feral opossum clinging to its precious bowl of catfood. (Trust me, this is the best simile for my brain. No opossums were hurt in writing this.)

#naruto #asks #anon #fanfic author appreciation day #ask games #thank you for the prompts! 💖#long post

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thestanceyg · 4 years ago

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Time for some more Darcyland Drabbles

A little drabble racing on the Discord server. Here’s all 4 of my sprints, so they’re below the cut because it’s kinda a lot. (Keep in mind all of these are a one and done sort of deal.)

Magnetism 1 She was drawn to him. That was certain. She hadn’t felt this way about anyone in a long time, and wasn’t that the funniest thing? She would have thought that she would never feel this way again after…. Well. After.

But now she did. Of course, it couldn’t have been a worse time to suddenly feel this animal magnetism toward someone.

“Err, I suppose this isn’t the best time to say anything, but since we might die anyway, how about if we live we get coffee?”

The man shot her an amused look. “We’ll survive,” he said matter of factly. “I want that coffee.”

2 I’m just saying it’s super cute,” she smiled. “C’mon. You can’t tell me you don’t like it!”

He looked at the refrigerator speculatively. “I suppose you’re right,” he agreed, his hands wrapping around her waist from behind, his chest pressed against her back as he kissed the top of her head. “But for the record, I still think it’s a kinda weird idea.”

“Weird, but still cute,” she argued.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

She laughed a little as his fingers dug into her sides, tickling. Making pictures of their friends into magnets was her best craft idea yet.

3 “It shouldn’t work like this,” she said, pulling her glasses from her face and pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Well, it’s not like there’s a lot of precedent here,” Bruce sighed. “I agree that the magnetism in this instance doesn’t quite make sense, but it is sort of fascinating.”

She had to agree. They had definitely stumbled upon something new. “This could take us years to fully explore,” she said. “Not that I’m complaining, but this was supposed to be a fun side project and not the seminal work of my life.”

“Sorry,” Bruce said, even though he wasn’t. “That’s just how science goes.”

4 She felt drawn to this place like there was a magnet pulling her. It was an insistent urge. It wouldn’t let up, and she didn’t know why the thought of ignoring it left her breathless with panic.

But following it? Following it left her breathless with anticipation.

It made no logical sense. Where was she going, and more importantly, why? But as soon as the thought entered her head, she remembered her grandmother who used to sit her down on her knee and tell her about the hope. How the hope would draw you to where you needed to be. Suddenly it all made a lot more sense.

5 “Watch closely,” Darcy commanded to the little one whose eyes were wide with wonder. She carefully dropped the magnet on the other side of the tank and the iron filings started to pull over to it, and the little girl’s eyes got impossibly wider.

“Wow,” she breathed. When the movement finally stopped, she turned her head. “Aunt Darcy, how does it work?”

“Science, which is magic that we study.”

The girl’s eyes lit up. Gotcha, Darcy thought. She’d be damned if another little girl thought that sciences weren’t for women. No little girl would have the rough relationship she had if she had anything to say about it.

6 She gripped his hand firmly and swung their arms back and forth a bit, trying to make it seem more like a joke than the desperate need it was, clawing deep in her gut. She tried to look at him out of the corner of her eye, but he was so damn tall that it didn’t give her anything to work with.

She pulled him along toward the ice cream cart. “You want a cone?” she asked.

Finally she looked up at him, and his smile was blinding. “Of course.” He squeezed her hand, and she realized that there would be no pulling them apart.

7 “Where are my damn fabric scissors?” she all be growled as she lifted everything off her countertop and threw it back down. The scissors were nowhere to be found. She lifted her eyes heavenward. So help her if someone had taken them and used them to cute anything that wasn’t fabric.

Just as she was starting to wonder if she would be murdering a housemate, Clint dropped her scissors down in front of her.

“So help me if…”

“I used them because they’re magnetic,” he said sheepishly. “I dropped my lucky paperclip and couldn’t reach it, but it came right to the scissors.”

Luminous 1 She was radiant, he thought. He had never seen someone who seemed to just glow with happiness like she did.

And she was his.

Officially and legally as of fifteen minutes ago. She had said he vows and he had said his, and they had signed the paper.

She was his sun, and now everyone would know it. He couldn’t wait to introduce her to everyone as his wife.

His entire body tracked her like he was a flower seeking her warmth. She was luminous and she was all his. Though, for tonight, he still had to share her with the people at the reception.

2 Jane couldn’t stop laughing. “Are you sure you’re using that right?” she asked through laughs that had turned into hiccups.

“Of course I’m not. I don’t know shit about how to use highlighter, but let me tell you, even if I’m totally wrong, this is how I’m doing it from now on. Look at me Jane! I’m luminous!”

Jane couldn’t disagree. She certainly looked like she was radiating some sort of ethereal light. Though she had moved from dew kissed fairy into something slightly more alienlike.

“Well budge over,” Jane said. “I need to get in on this.”

3 “This flashlight is garbage,” she harshly whispered to him. “We can’t see anywhere. How many lumens is this damn thing?”

He didn’t answer at first and she tried not to be upset about that. It wasn’t his fault they were now lurking through the abandoned hospital trying to find their friends and get out of there before the killer on the loose found them.

“I don’t know,” he said with a frown. “Whatever the bureau’s standard issue is. Maybe the batteries are running down.”

“We’re going to die,” she groaned.

“We won’t,” he argued. “You own me a Scrabble rematch.”

She couldn’t help but laugh.

4 “Look,” she breathed reverently as she pulled away from the telescope display. Everything was electronic now, and she had missed looking through the eyepiece in her backyard, so this was quite the treat. She waved him closer to the equipment.

Leo bend over and looked for himself. “Wow,” he breathed. You’re not wrong.” “Right?” she said. “There’s just something about being able to see the moon in your own backyard with such detail. How it illuminates the entire piece. It’s something that no modern display can replicate.” Her voice was soft.

He hummed his agreement.

5 “I can’t believe this is the bridesmaid dress you picked,” Darcy huffed. “Please tell me this is a joke and the real dress is totally different. Or it’s at least a different color.”

“Nope,” Simmons said with a soft smile. “I always imagined a bright bridal party.”

Darcy looked down at the offending fabric wrapping her body. It was like she was wrapped in some sort of tin foil that reflected yellow light instead of a rainbow of colors. It was highly disconcerting.

“Well we’ll all certainly be…luminous,” Jane said, trying to smooth over both of their feelings about the garment.

6 “I can’t believe someone tried to say that this book was some sort of ‘luminous beacon for book clubs everywhere. That it’s the quintessential read of the century’.”

“Agreed,” Pepper said with a curl of her nose. “This was…not good.”

“Don’t sugar coat it,” Maria argued. “This book was garbage.”

“The only way that this is luminous,” Darcy added, “is if we set it on fire.”

“I’ve definitely read fanfiction that was better,” Jane agreed, dropping her book on the coffee table.

“That’s not even hard,” Darcy snorted. “I’ve read Wattpad fic written by a 12 year old better than this.”

7 He had never seen her before, he was sure of it, but he couldn’t stop looking at her once he saw her. She was luminous. She radiated this softness and beauty, but also this intellectual and academic integrity that practically seeped from her pores. He hoped to introduce himself to her, but he wasn’t the only one that he noticed her beauty. She was surrounded by so many others.

But then.

Her eyes lifted up and met his. Suddenly she was smiling and walking his way. “Dr. Fitz?” she asked, her cheeks coloring. “I’m Dr. Darcy Lewis. I’d been hoping to meet you today.”

Gravity 1 She was on the ground. That wasn’t normally a problem, but it seemed she couldn’t get off the ground.

“Not so high and mighty now, are you Dr. Lewis?”

Her eyes scrunched as she felt the pressure pulling her down and keeping her there.

“What did you do.”

His smile was practically feral. “I finally figured out how to change localized gravity. It wasn’t even that hard. And you just walked into the field and got stuck in it. Now you’ll have to do what I say or I’ll turn it up until the force crushes you.”

She turned her head away. “I guess I’ll die then.”

2 “I don’t think the gravity of this situation is really hitting you,” Tony said with a pinched look on his face.

“Oh, I get it all right,” Steve argued back “IO just think that you don’t have any idea what you’re doing. Your solution is asinine.”

Darcy’s eyes bounced back and forth as she watched both of them argue back and forth,

“I’d kill for some popcorn,” she said, before inserting herself into the building argument that was now mostly about disparaging the other’s character.

She let out a loud whistle. “Listen up asshats. You’re both wrong.”

3 He was her gravity. He kept her grounded and secure. She had always expected love to be more like floating, but it wasn’t. At least not the way he loved her. He loved her exactly how she was. It made her feel more secure in who she was and what she was doing. His devotion to her was absolute, and he kept her from second guessing herself. She had never realized that feeling grounded could feel so liberating. Sure, there had been a bit of floatyness when they started, but if she was a balloon, he was holding her string, and she had never been happier.

4 “Maybe before we step out we should, I don’t know, check things like the air and gravity situation? Not to second guess anyone since I’m just the astrophysicist here, but, ya know, that environment might affect what we do when we get out there.”

The leader whose name she knew but refused to use, glowered at her. “You’re not in charge here Miss Lewis. Besides, you’re not here as a scientist. You're here for your social media expertise.” He practically spat the last words.

“It’s Doctor,” she countered. “And I’m here for both you absolute fuckwit.”

5 The situation was grave, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Of course, as soon as the thought entered her head, an explosion rocked the wall, blowing debris at her and pinning her down.

She came to unable to feel her legs. Well, that probably wasn’t good, but it also wasn’t the worst thing. She was pretty sure if she could feel them, she wouldn’t be able to think at all for the pain. Okay, the gravity of the situation had gone up. Well, nothing to do for it but get to work on a solution.

6 “Try defuyyyyinnnggg gravity!” she sang at the top of her lungs. She was singing so loud that she didn’t hear the door open and close.

“Oh Darcy,” Jane said as she turned the volume of the music down. “I realized it was a bad breakup, but I didn’t think you were this bad.”

Darcy snorted. “It wasn’t bad at all. This,” she gestured to the room that Jane noticed was covered in comfort foods and blankets, “has nothing to do with that. The breakup was unfortunately timed with my dissertation being denied.”

“What?” Jane said, the color draining out of her face before she turned the volume back up.

7 “Like, what even is gravity?” she asked, slurring her words.

Her companions stared at her. “Do you mean like in science?” Helen asked, her own words not fully enunciated.

“No,” Darcy said, shaking her head and immediately regretting it as the room seemed to tilt around her. “I mean, the drink,” she held up her glass and shook it in emphasis. It was luckily mostly empty and didn’t spill.

“I don’t think that’s the name of it,” Jane said. “It’s g something else.”

“Galaxy,” Maria said, put upon by her own sobriety. “It’s called a galaxy, not a gravity.”

8 “I don’t think you understand the gravity of this situation,” Jane said with a cruel smile. “You denied my best friend her PhD, and now no one can help you. No one will save you from the single stupidest thing you’ve done this decade.”

The man sneered at her. “That’s mighty presumptuous of you,” he said arrogantly. “You might have won a Nobel Prize, but everyone knows that had more to do with Thor than you.”

Jane just laughed. “You have no idea.”

Darcy pulled at Jane’s arm. “Come on. He’s not worth it. Stark’s already almost done ruining him. We need to prepare for my new presentation.”

The man paled and Jane’s smile widened. “Now you get it.”

Radiation 1 “Ummm, that was not a result I was prepared for,” Bruce admitted as he looked over at Helen and Darcy.

“Yeah, I can’t imagine any of us were expecting this,” Darcy agreed from where her skin seemed to have fused to his hip. “This isn’t really how radiation works.”

“Errr,” Helen said from the consul where she had moved a soon as the problem had arisen. “Which one of you recently had contact with an Asgardian?”

The looked at each other and Bruce said, “Last night? We were in New Asgard for a party.”

Helen sighed. “Well that’s a start,” she sighed.

2 The pain was radiating from her legs now and she didn’t like this new development. Sure, it meant that they probably weren’t a lost cause, but it was seriously interfering with her ability to think.

“Darcy?” a voice yelled before coughing. There was still dust heavy in in the air.

“Over here!” she yelled back after covering her face with her shirt.

There was a scrambling sound and then a soft curse and Sam Wilson was in front of her.

“A bit not good,” he said, looking from her legs to her face.

“Really? John Watson now?”

He smiled.

3 “Radiation therapy is my suggested course of action,” he said looking at her from across the desk. She wondered how many times he had had similar conversations across this desk. Probably a lot. It was kind of his job. She wondered if he had all the beats of talking someone through cancer treatment down. If his head was just a giant decision tree that took her answers and gave her the response he had given every time someone asked this question or made that comment.

“Okay,” she said after a deep calming breath. “I know what that means. Do I start scheduling with you now or is that later?”

4 The radiation the planet was emitting was fascinating. It wasn’t what she had been looking for, but she was glad to have found it anyway. “Move one quarter of a degree south,” she said to her tech that was running the telescope. “Read again and then change the spectrum. I want to see what else is going on with this plant.”

“That isn’t our mission, Dr. Lewis,” the intern argued.

She closed her eyes and counted to ten. She was over snot nosed male interns thinking they dictated her research simply because of their genitalia.

“Not our mission. Mine. Do as I say,” she ordered.

5 The radiation fallout had been less than they had expected, but no less impactful. Coulson looked over at her. “You’re glowing” he said.

She frowned. When she looked at herself she didn’t see a glow. She looked back up at him. “I don’t see a glow,” she argued. “Maybe it’s something only you can see? Try looking at yourself or someone else. Maybe your eyes were changed. Something that wasn’t visible before now is?”

He did as she said. “Maybe,” he agreed, looking around, “but you’re the only one I see glowing, and I don’t know what that means.”

6 Darcy’s tears were bitter and she didn’t feel like she had earned the right to cry them. She had known that radiation therapy was a last resort. She knew that the odds were against them. But knowing that and living the results were two different things. It had been just her and her dad as long as she could remember, and now it was about to be just her. The treatment had failed to bring about results. She knew it was just a matter of time now. It had always been just a matter of time, but that hadn’t stopped her from hoping. Now it looked like hope had run out.

7 “That color looks like it belongs on a door warning of radiation,” Jane said flipping her sunglasses down before looking at the dress again.

“Right?” Darcy said gleefully. “Isn’t it perfect?”

“I don’t know why you’re going out of your way to have a bad date. Just tell him no.”

Darcy frowned at her friend. “I can’t just tell him no. He’s a supremely arrogant asshole. He’ll keep bothering me until I say yes. This is much better. I’m going to make him think it’s his idea to never see me again.”

#darcylanddrabblerace #revengers #darcy lewis

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moonstone-blues · 4 years ago

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A Spark By The River - Chapter 9: Red And Blue

“Jesus, Blue. You look like hell.”

“Thanks.”

River chuckled as she sniffled. She had dark bags under her eyes, her skin was pale, hair dishevelled and a red nose.

River and Piper had met up a few streets away from Diamond City. After a rough night, River and Nick decided to split up to try and find a fusion core. Nick would look in the more irradiated places and River would go with Piper to try and find one amongst the ruins of the city. Nick still wasn’t comfortable letting River go alone and while he didn’t exactly trust Piper with the details of the case, Codsworth was busy helping make Sanctuary more comfortable for the settlers there and Preston was busy trying to set up some sort of line of communication.

Once Piper heard that there was a chance she could get herself in the story, she didn’t hesitate to grab her bag. River was concerned about Nat but Piper assured her she would be fine on her own for a bit. And if she needed anything, Arturo was only around the corner. He didn’t always agree with Piper but he couldn’t say no to helping a kid.

Piper nudged River with her elbow as the two began to walk.

“I didn’t get much sleep.” River admitted with a shrug. She had tried but it just felt… Wrong. Knowing she would wake up and Jack wouldn’t be beside her… She couldn’t. Not yet.

“Nick keeping you up with all his nagging?” Piper joked, using her hand as a puppet and pretending to talk.

River giggled, shaking her head. “He’s been nagging me to get some sleep."

"I remember when he used to do that with me.” Piper thought back.

As they navigated through the streets, River noticed that Piper was less careful than Nick, only occasionally ducking behind something when a noise was heard. Whether that was because of River or just their normal strategies, River didn’t know.

Footsteps sounded. They were slow. River quickly ducked into an alleyway, pulling Piper beside her. The footsteps became quicker. River could guess it was an animal by the sound of two feet hitting the ground at once. A blur of green whizzed past. Piper recoiled.

“Mutants.” Piper whispered to herself.

“Those big green men?” River questioned.

“If they have a hound out, there’s probably one close by.” She explained.

“They have dogs?!” River exclaimed in a quiet voice. More things she didn’t know about them, great!

“You can get a zoology lesson later, we need to go.” Piper turned around. Upon looking down the alleyway, it branching off at the bottom, she groaned.

“I should really scout out this area more.”

“Is there anywhere specifically we need to go?” River questioned walking down the alleyway.

Piper followed her, trying to come up with a solution in her head. “West would probably be best but I don’t know which path-”

“That one.” River said, pointing to the one on the right.

“But won’t that take us back the way we came?” Piper asked, looking down it.

“For a bit.” River nodded. “But it will make a ‘U’ shape taking us back up. The alley ahead leads to a dead end and the one on the left goes back to the same road.”

Piper blinked in astonishment.

River smiled sheepishly as she began to walk down the alley.

“Hey, you spend hours navigating alleys with Nick.” River chuckled.

“Okay, maybe a little nagging from Nick is okay.” Piper admitted with a defeated shrug. “But don’t tell sixteen year old me that.”

It was River’s turn to be astonished. “You knew Nick at sixteen?"

Piper raised an eyebrow. "How long do you think Nick’s been in Diamond City?"

River shrugged as she carefully stepped over a fallen trash can. Piper and her had to hold their noses at the putrid stench of it’s rotten contents. When they were a good enough distance away, River responded.

"I don’t know.” River shrugged. “I know he was there when the Mayor’s daughter went missing…”

Piper’s face lit up. “He told you the 'beep’ story?"

River laughed, nodding. "Can you imagine it?"

"Oh I would give anything to have been there at the time.” Piper grinned. “That was about two mayors ago.”

“Oh wow. A long time then.” River stated.

The two made their way around a corner, spotting a small playground just ahead. The two looked at each other before walking ahead.

“Ugh I hate these places.” Piper shivered as she opened the, surprisingly still working, gate and walked into the park. “How did kids used to play here?"

"Believe it or not, not everywhere used to be an apocalyptic Wasteland full of raiders and green feral dogs.” River joked, walking up to a climbing frame that looked like a spaceship. She poked her head inside.

“Well it was also full of weird space monkeys.” Piper shrugged.

River tried to pull her head out of the spaceship but she accidently hit it on the top, not realising how small the entrance actually was. She let out a pained yelp as she held her head, carefully pulling it away. She rubbed her head as she turned to Piper who was stifling a laugh.

“Space monkey?” River said through her winces. She then realised what Piper meant. “Oh! Jangles the moon monkey!” She exclaimed. She double checked her hand to see if there was any blood. Couldn’t be too careful.

Piper snickered as she raised an eyebrow. “Jangles? Moon Monkey?"

"Yeah, he was a TV show character, I think. There’s toys of him, too. I was thinking of getting Shaun one but their faces are just…” River cringed. “Besides, they cost thirty dollars."

"So… He wasn’t an actual space monkey?” Piper questioned, leaning against an old slide, hearing sticks and leaves crunch under her feet.

“Moon monkey.” River reminded. “And no. He’s just a character.”

“And I thought I had pre war times all figured out…” Piper shook her head with a sigh. A thought suddenly hit her as she looked back up at River.

“You know a lot about pre war times, right?” Piper asked, a grin beginning to form on her face.

“I did live there all my life.” River said plainly. This wasn’t new information to Piper. Seeing Piper’s full grin was a big give away of what was going through her mind.

“Another paper?” River chuckled.

“Perhaps…” Piper said suspiciously. “The ghouls I manage to talk to don’t really go into detail. Besides… you’re relatively fresh.”

River smiled, giving Piper a side glance, seeing the reporter smirk.

“If you’ve seen any old posters, probably like that.” River simply told her.

“So… Space monkeys?” Piper teased with a laugh.

River gently pushed Piper, not helping herself as she giggled along. Once Piper reegainedd her composure, she took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m sorry. But seriously, what was it like?” Piper genuinely asked.

“Well… ever hear of the ‘American Dream’?” River began walking towards the swings.

“Kinda. I’ve seen a few pictures with that on. But I don’t get it. They’re all just families having dinner.“

“That’s kind of the point.” River examined the swing, checking if it could take her weight. She continued.

“Families being happy, just living their life. No worries, no stress. Everyone has equal opportunities and has the same value of life.”

“Sure sounds like a dream.” Piper rolled her eyes, sitting on the swing, not checking if it was safe herself. “How did people possibly believe that could happen?”

River shrugged, carefully sitting on the swing. She gently began to swing back and forth. “It was a way to distract people from the war. So much was going on. Everyone was clinging to what was left of our country. And that was the American Dream.” River sighed. “Maybe if we all weren’t so focused on a pretend picture perfect life, we could’ve been more prepared…” River clenched her fists. She quickly relaxed, softening her facial expression.

“Sorry… I guess my husband’s feelings on this rubbed off on me…” River chuckled. “He was a military man.”

“Like the Brotherhood?” Piper asked.

River hesitated. “Kind of…”

“But without the super mutant and ghoul bloodlust.” Piper added. “Oh, and don’t forget the ‘will literally kill people for technology’ mentality.” She shook her head. “Anyway, got any specific details? Like your life?” Piper asked.

“My life?” River raised an eyebrow as she stopped swinging.

“Well, yeah. We still don’t know each other that well.” Piper explained. "Promise this one’s not going in the paper.”

“Well I was kinda middle to high class, I would say.” River thought back to her childhood. “Had a loving dad, a money obsessed mom and a boy crazy little sister.”

“You had a little sister?” Piper questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. The age gap wasn’t as big as you and Nat though. We only had four years between us.” River began to gently swing once more.

“Were you close?”

River chuckled. “Sometimes. One minute we would be laughing and close as ever then the next we would be at each other’s throats.” She then sighed, a look of shock suddenly appearing on her face. “God… the last thing we did before the bombs was fight…” She stopped on the swing, it now fully sinking in. “Shit…”

“You didn’t know.” Piper leaned over and put her hand on River’s shoulder.

“I just hope that she got to her vault in time…” River leaned back.

Though, that may have been worse for her, considering what the Vault had done to River. Maybe Jane’s vault was better…

She looked back to Piper who looked back, expectantly. River continued. “Anyway, yeah. Born and raised in Boston. Went to D.B Technical High School where I met my husband, went to college, university and eventually married. I had just given birth to Shaun a few months before the war. He kind of occupied most of my time.” She explained.

“I’ll bet.” Piper chuckled. “Harder than growing up with a little sister.”

“But before Shaun, I practised law.” River smiled, thinking back to her law degree that had managed to survive the nuclear war.

She wanted to wait until she had time to examine and fix her house but as her foot nudged the cracked glass encasing the degree, she couldn’t help but proudly place it back on display.

“A lawyer, huh?” Piper thought. “And… what was justice like back then?” She hoped it was even a slither better than what McDonough was 'enforcing’.

“It was a bunch of power hungry bastards locking up anyone they didn’t like or who got in their way.” River replied with an annoyed huff.

“Shit.” Piper chuckled. She knew it would be too good to be true. “So, not much has changed then.”

River defended herself. “I made sure everyone got a fair trial. They didn’t get rolled over by the system.”

Piper smirked. “Guardian of the downtrodden, huh?”

“That sounds like a new title for a paper.”

“Maybe.”

River laughed, getting up from the swing. She pretended to swing a sword.

“Trial by combat. I rocked up thirty kills in my day.” She grinned. Of course, she had done many more court cases but who was counting?

“Huh. Always wondered why pre-war courthouses had all that gladiator equipment just lying around.” Piper stood up herself.

“It doesn’t matter now, though. The American penal code burned up along with most of Boston…” River tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I have an idea.” Piper said, beginning to walk.

River followed, not knowing what to expect.“Oh God, what?”

“You know all about law.” Piper began.

“Where is this going?” River cautiously questioned.

“Diamond City is pretty bad when it comes to managing the law. Maybe next election you could… you know…”

River shot her a look.

“Y’know… after you find your son, of course.” Piper haphazardly added.

River carefully stepped around the fallen pieces of gate on the opposite side of the miniature park. “Where will you get your source of satire without McDonough then?”

“I’ll probably find some scandalous secret you want to keep buried.” Piper shrugged, moving on ahead. “Maybe you’re hiding some dirty little dungeon.”

“Ha ha.” River rolled her eyes. “So, any idea where we can find a fusion core?” She asked, looking around. The tall, decrepit apartments toward over the two as they gazed up.

Piper had a thought. “Fusion cores are pretty rare… we can either spend days searching every single building which are probably full of ghouls or we look in the only place that you can be certain to find them…” She groaned at her conclusion. “The Brotherhood. Well, we can’t exactly waltz onto their ship and politely ask for one of their precious fusion cores like squatters.”

River sighed, walking on. Everything was quiet. Eerily quiet.

“You okay if I put some music on? Shouldn’t be too loud.” River asked, holding up her pip boy.

Piper nodded.

River was about to select the Diamond City Radio but she noticed a new radio channel present on her pip boy.

“Military Frequency AF95.”

Piper walked behind River and peeked over her shoulder, her curiosity evident.

“-s Scribe Haylen of Reconnaissance Squad Gladius to any unit in transmission range. Authorization Arx. Ferrum. Nine. Five. Our unit has sustained casualties and we’re running low on supplies. We’re requesting support or evac from our position at Cambridge Police Station.”

“That sounds bad.” River said, tuning out the channel.

Piper nodded her head, agreeing. “Speak of the devil.” River raised her eyebrow in confusion. “She said she was… Scribe? Yeah. That’s a rank in the Brotherhood. Just leave it. They’ll be fine on their own.”

River rolled her eyes, checking her map. They weren’t that far away…

“Brotherhood or not, they need help.”

Piper watched as River continued to walk well into the city.

“Blue! You can’t just- They- Ugh!” Piper finally gave in, reluctantly chasing after River.

River navigated the streets of Boston carefully. Piper groaned as she squeezed herself in between a truck and a brick wall, sucking in her stomach as she tried to keep up with River.

“Nick warned me you were a runaway, but I didn’t think you were-” She took a deep breath as she moved away from the truck, following River up the main road which happened to lead into a large, open area. “-This bad.”

River chuckled, turned around. She rested a hand on her hip with a smirk. “What can I say? I’m-”

Piper glanced to the side as she heard growling. “Feral!” She pounced forward, pushing River down as a ghoul flew past them.

River yelled in pain as her head hit concrete. She looked ahead and saw Piper over her, smiling nervously.

“Sorry.”

River opened her mouth to respond but quickly stopped, pushing Piper away, raising her pistol and shooting a ghoul looming over her.

“Apologize later!”

Piper quickly stood up, while River scrambled to her feet, readying themselves. A few more ghouls were beginning to surround them as they had decided to check out where the loud noises were coming from.

“So much for being careful…” River muttered to herself. It was still going to take her a while to get used to safely navigating the city, no matter how much she had already learned.

The ghouls began to run. River and Piper backed up quickly. River looked around, spotting a nearby diner.

“Up there!”

River climbed onto a rusted old car, making sure Piper was following. She carefully balanced herself as she walked across a fallen lamppost. From the way they pounced carelessly and stumbled round, River could guess that they wouldn’t be elegant or coordinated enough to follow them. She managed to hop on top of the diner, thankful that it had managed to hold her weight. Piper was close behind, but so were the ghouls. She was only a couple feet away from the diner when a feral ghoul from below had jumped up, clawing at Piper. It caught her foot, causing her to lose her balance and fall off.

“Blue!”

River lunged forward and grabbed Piper’s arm, using all of her strength to try and pull her up. The ghoul was strong, however, it’s claw saught on Piper’s coat. Piper swung her foot, trying to shake or kick the ghoul off of her. River reached for her gun only to realise she forgot to holster it. She glanced behind her and saw it a few feet away, just out of reach.

“Dammit.”

She turned back to Piper, thoughts and decisions flying through her head.

“Piper, do you trust me?”

“What?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Why?”

“Sorry!”

River quickly let go of Piper, letting the woman fall with a short scream. She dived for her pistol, quickly grabbing it. She scrambled to the edge of the diner roof, spotting Piper trying to fight off a snarling, snapping ghoul. She winced, holding out what looked like the bumper of the car they had climbed on top of. She pressed it against the ghouls chest, keeping it in place, futilely swinging at her. River readied her weapon, took aim and then fired, piercing the ghoul’s head.

The gunshot alerted the couple other ghouls who were still trying to figure out how to reach their dinner on the rooftop. Not only that, but even more ghouls had started to emerge from the different buildings surrounding them. Piper chuckled nervously as she watched the dead eyes glare at her. She waved.

“Nice fer-”

River grabbed Piper’s raised arm, trying her best to hoist Piper up. Piper climbed onto the lamp post once she was high enough, letting River relax. Piper cautiously joined her. There was a moment of brief peace for the two before Piper reeled back, punching River in the shoulder.

“Ow!”

“I could’ve died!” Piper growled.

There was a pause. “But you… didn’t?” she shrugged. River had to admit her plan was absurd. Guess she was starting to get used to wastelander ways.

Piper opened her mouth to argue back but stopped herself, folding her arms.

“God, I see why Nick wanted to split for a bit.”

River let out a breathless chuckle, still panting. Piper raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

River took deep breaths. Piper gasped.

“I’m not that heavy!”

River finally gained her breath back and laughed. “Come on, let’s check our bullets and see if we can pick the rest of them off…”

After the two killed the rest of the ghouls, they carefully climbed down from the diner. They both cringed at the smell. Seemed like even people who were used to this could never get over the smell.

Piper covered her nose as she carefully made her way around the ghoul corpses. She took in her surroundings. “College Square. Explains why it stinks this much.”

River tilted her head slightly, confused. “Because of all the teenagers?” She chuckled to herself before realising Piper might not get the joke.

Piper raised her eyebrow at her before pointing away from them, her expression now serious. “No, because of that.”

River turned to where Piper was pointing and gasped.

During their fight, she didn’t notice… The dozens of decaying human corpses strewn about. A lot had been half eaten. And they had clearly been dead for a while.

River took a few steps back, feeling sick to her stomach. This was a massacre. Piper continued on her way, face screwing up as the smell became too much.

River quickly followed her. “All those people…” She mumbled.

“Raiders.” Piper stated. “You can tell by the gear.”

“Those ferals couldn’t have killed that many people.” River only counted about ten feral ghouls. She understood they could be vicious but no way they could cause that much carnage.

“The rest must’ve gone into the city.” Piper said in agreement. “I know they’re evil people who did horrible things but being eaten alive by ferals?” A shiver ran down her spine. “I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.”

River nodded. “Yeah.”

As they neared the exit of College Square, they could hear gunshots. They carefully approached, seeing more ferals rushing towards a barricaded police station.

“That must be it.” River pointed out.

“Yeah, the Brotherhood look like they’ve got it all under co- Blue?” Piper looked beside her to see River gone. She turned back to see River had moved ahead, hiding behind a wall before taking shots at the ghouls.

Piper groaned. “Nick, you owe me big time for this…”

It seemed like the majority of ghouls were dead. A few bodies were around the station with the others obviously back in College Square. That explained why there weren’t that many the two had to deal with.

Piper ran forward but nearly tripped up when something grabbed her leg. She whipped her head around and yelped, seeing a legless ghoul clinging onto her. It wasn’t long before a bullet pierced it’s skull. Piper shook the arm off and ran towards River who was being surrounded by a small group of three ghouls. She stood there, watching them. And just before they were about the pounce, she quickly moved out of the way, letting the three ghouls attack each other. However, she wasn’t aware of her surroundings and ended up tripping over some debris from a nearby building. She fell to the ground only to be rushed at by another feral ghoul. She stuck her leg out, letting the ghoul run into it. She kept the ghoul at bay as it swung for her. She tried reaching for her pistol-

It was gone.

River groaned as she spotted it practically right underneath the tangle of ghouls just ahead of her. She really needed a bigger gun she wouldn’t lose.

She could hear Piper dealing with her own set of ghouls and it didn’t seem like the Brotherhood were going to leave their fortress.

The feral attacked whatever it could, scratching and sinking its nails into River’s leg. She bit back a scream as she desperately felt around for something- anything!

She didn’t take her eyes off the ghoul. Her leg made sure it’s head couldn’t reach down to bite her but that didn’t make her any less terrified.

She wasn’t going to end up like those raiders.

River eventually felt something sharp stab her hand. She gripped it tightly and let her leg drop for one second as she plunged the sharp thing into the ghoul’s head. It struggled for a moment more before falling limp. River took a deep and shaky breath, looking at the small, jagged pipe she had used as her weapon, sticking out of the now dead ghoul’s head. She stood up only to wince in pain as she put weight on her left leg. The battle seemed to be dying down but it wasn’t over. Luckily, the trio of ghouls she had previously escaped from seemed to be dead so River could quickly snatch her pistol back up. It took a few shots but eventually it seemed like the ghouls were all down.

River panted, her leg feeling weak. Piper jogged over.

“Blue!”

“Please tell me a scratch isn’t going to turn me into one.” River said, slightly limping as she approached Piper.

Piper shook her head. “No, but you should definitely get that looked at.”

“First, let’s make sure the Brotherhood people are okay.”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure they’re all struggling in their impenetrable tin can suits and their fortified base.” Piper said with an eye roll. River shot her a displeased look. The two then made their way into the barricade.

There were three people outside the police station. A man wearing power armor covered in grime, a woman who was giving medical attention and the man she was giving it to.

“Are you guys okay?” River asked.

The man in the power armor turned to her. She would never get used to the height and sheer power that radiated from the suit alone, let alone the hardened soldiers that wore it. He reloaded his weapon.

“We appreciate the assistance, civilians. But what’s your business here?"

"We heard your distress signal.” River explained with a small smile. “We were close by so we thought we should help.”

“Don’t drag me into this.” Piper whispered under her breath.

The man raised an eyebrow. “Close by? You’re not from a settlement, are you?”

“Don’t answer that.” Piper quickly spoke to River.

River looked back at the woman then to the soldier. She wanted to help but she also had to be cautious. “Why do you want to know?”

He didn’t answer.

“We’ve done our good deed, let’s go.” Piper whispered, trying to rush River.

River sighed. “I’m from up north west. I… came out of a vault. Vault 111.”

“A vault Dweller? Most people wouldn’t admit that.” He finally spoke.

“Now can you tell me what you’re doing in the area? Not everyday you see someone wearing mint condition t-60 power armor.” River looked the man up and down. Even her suit wasn’t as clean. The Brotherhood didn’t seem like any other group in the Commonwealth.

“You know about power armor?” The man said, shocked. Most wastelanders had never even heard of power armor, let alone pick out a specific model.

River hesitated for a moment. “My husband was around power armor a lot while he was in the line of duty.”

The man smiled for the first time. “Ah, it’s good to know we have the assistance from an ally of the Brotherhood of Steel.”

“Well, not-” River tried to explain.

“If I appear suspicious it’s because our mission here has been difficult. Since the moment we arrived in the Commonwealth, we’ve been constantly under fire.” He looked to River, smiling. “If you want to continue pitching in, we could use an extra gun on our side.”

Piper was slowly shaking her head, eyes narrowed. River sighed, trying to ignore her objections.

“I want to help but I don’t like the secrecy. Who are you?"

"Very well.” The man stood, proud. “I’m paladin danse.” He gestured to the two other people behind him. “Over there is Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys. We’re on recon duty, but I’m down a man and our supplies are running low. I’ve been trying to send a distress call to my superiors, but the signal’s too weak to reach them.”

“The distress call we found.”

“Correct.”

An unsure voice made River turn her attention to the woman, Scribe Haylen. “Sir, if I may?"

"Proceed, Haylen.”

“I’ve modified the radio tower on the roof of the police station, but I’m afraid it just isn’t enough. What we need is something that will boost the signal.” She explained. Her eyes then fixated on River’s leg. “You’ve been injured!"

River looked down at her leg before looking up at Scribe Haylen. "Just feral ghoul scratches, it only really hurts when I walk.”

“Despicable creatures.” Danse spat. “Haylen, take her inside. See what you can do.”

“Yes sir.”

“What about me?” The other man who hadn’t yet spoke loud enough for River to hear cried.

“I’ve done all I can, now you need to rest.” Haylen told him. “Come on.” She gestured for River to follow her.

“We’ll tell you about our mission once we’re inside.” Danse explained, walking to the entrance of the police station. He helped Rhys up before taking him inside.

Before River could move, Piper grabbed her shoulder and whispered.

“Blue, this is crazy!”

“I know, what I’ve heard of the Brotherhood isn’t good but this is my chance to get a fusion core.” River explained. “You said it yourself: we either spend what could be days going through every ghoul filled apartment or we can get one straight from the Brotherhood.”

“What do you even need this core for?!” Piper questioned.

River paused, confused. “Nick didn’t tell you?"

Piper threw her hands up in the air with a groan. "No! Do you think he tells me anything about his cases?!”

River sighed. She thought for a moment. She didn’t want the Institute to get a whiff of their plan…

But she did kind of owe Piper for dropping her in front of a feral ghoul.

“I need to use power armor to go into the Glowing Sea.” River began.

“The Glow- Why?!"

"There’s an Institute scientist who went rogue. He can help me find a way in.”

Piper’s confusion and annoyance turned into a child-like glee as her mouth stretched into a grin.

“You’re going to talk to. An Institute. Scientist?” She asked slowly.

“You can’t tell anyone.” River warned. “I can’t let the Institute get to him first.”

“My lips are sealed.” Piper 'zipped’ her lips shut to emphasise her point.

“Also I’m kind of bleeding out a little so I need them to patch me up.” River pointed out with a shrug.

“Come on.” Piper pulled River’s arm over her shoulder and started to walk, making sure she didn’t put much weight on her leg. “Let’s get you a fusion core.”

#fallout #fallout 4 #sole survivor x nick valentine #nick valentine x sole survivor #sole survivor #nick valentine #Piper Wright #paladin danse #scribe haylen #knight rhys #a spark by the river #asbtr #Sorry no Nick in this one!#Wanted to establish some of River's other friendships #Nick will have his own chapter in the future #also #This is my longest chapter!

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starwarsfic · 4 years ago

Text

Worse Odds

Originally posted October 8, 2020

Summary: Alpha-17 died with the Force collapsing his trachea, the scalpel he'd managed to grab buried too deep in Ventress' gut for her to survive long after him. It was not necessarily a good death, but it was a death he couldn't regret.

He, of course, hadn't expected to wake up.

Details: Time Travel AU. Written for kj_feybarn.

CW: torture, major character death

xxxxxx

Alpha-17 died with the Force collapsing his trachea, the scalpel he'd managed to grab buried too deep in Ventress' gut for her to survive long after him. It was not necessarily a good death, but it was a death he couldn't regret.

His last moments were still fantasies of the could-have-beens that he'd never know: the lips he’d never been brave enough to kiss, the hands he’d never been able to hold outside of hospital tents. Then they were of his last good memories: of Obi-Wan's calloused hand gently resting on his forehead, his bright eyes wide with concern as he ordered him to medical treatment on Coruscant, having to use all of his authority to get some clone that sort of attention.

He, of course, hadn't expected to wake up.

Battered, tired, in just his blacks, but alive. Not a single trace of the Force choke that had killed him hindering his throat.

He was too paranoid to try his comm, just stole a poncho off a passed out drunk in an alley or whatever sand drenched backwater he was on and did his best to blend in, get a feel for things.

A lot could happen in a short period of time and he had no idea how long he'd been out of it or why he'd been dumped like he was in this particular town.

First, he stole a blaster to hide under his poncho, a vibroknife to sheath in his boot. Then, he looked for information, figuring credits would be his next stop when he figured out what section of the galaxy he was even in.

Apparently, which side of the war the planet was on wouldn't be an issue.

Unless he was hallucinating, but it was a kriffing weird thing to hallucinate ending up on Tatooine nearly a decade before he’d been decanted, even for him.

***

7938 CRC was a weird year, Alpha-17 decided.

All the major battles came before or after it, with the only conflict of note (and conflicts were what most of his original education was on) the ongoing civil war in the Mandalore Sector. What he could find on the Holonet (thankfully it hadn’t evolved much in the years before the war), only confirmed that...it was a boring year.

The sort of boring Alpha-17 might have talked about as blissful, when he was only imagining it. But he wasn’t going to get to enjoy it: This would be the year his General was there in the midst of Mandalore’s conflict, sniffing after the Duchess.

His General, who was definitely alive, and as well as he could probably be, considering. A Padawan, of all things, some shiny running around after a General who by all reports was worse than Kenobi and Skywalker put together.

Thinking of that, thinking of Mandalore...gave him an idea.

First he just needed to steal enough credits and a ship to get off Skywalker’s least favorite dustball.

***

He staked out Galidraan for two months before the hit happened--the governor dead, some suit of armor he was keeping in his hideous mansion the only thing missing. Easy in, easy out from the home of a man who didn't think he had many enemies left.

Jango left a trail, not enough for the useless security guards to find, but more than enough for someone a better, more experienced Jango had taught. He followed him straight back the clunker he was flying and got the drop on him with pathetic ease--two high powered stun bolts in just the right joint of the beskar'gam he'd hastily shoved on and Fett was down for the count.

The first thing Alpha-17 did was strip him, the second thing he did was tie him up in a way he'd have to seriously injure himself to get out of. Then, he studied the younger Jango Fett, taking a moment to really think through what he was doing.

They were nearly the same age--well, the same physical age. Jango had less muscle, still gaining it back from his time as a slave if the rumor mill among the Cuy'val Dar was to be trusted. Alpha-17 had more scars, but who wouldn't expect Jango to come out of the osik he went through with some permanent reminders?

In the months since Alpha-17 had come back, his hair had grown out from the military regulation cut, but it looked like Jango had already trimmed his own hair back, so that was no issue. All he needed to do was talk for a little while, let Alpha-17 learn him.

When Jango woke up, that's exactly what he did.

No doubt at least part of it was connected to that feral look in his eyes, that doubt that maybe all the spice he'd been forced to work with had long-term effects and he was hallucinating someone that looked like him, sounded like him (picked up more and more of his accent and mannerisms as the hours went on).

Eventually, dehydration and sleep deprivation added to that, and it seemed like he thought Alpha-17 was some spirit sent from the Manda to punish him for some perceived sins. Towards the end, he could only mutter apologies to Jaster and a string of others in choked out Mando’a, rung out of tears.

By the time Alpha-17 put a bolt right between his template's eyes, he felt his new knowledge and what he'd already known would serve him more than enough. And any guilt he might have felt had disappeared when he realized he was doing little more than putting a rabid striil down.

He spaced the body and, despite Manda'yaim and Obi-Wan pulling at his heart, headed to Concord Dawn.

***

Rounding up the Haat Mando'ade went like this:

Find some of the Cuy'val Dar he knew had been members or connected to members,

Pretend to be Fett recovered from years of slavery,

See who would answer their Mand'alor's call.

Convincing them he was still worth following was even easier and began and ended with Tor Vizsla beheaded with his own lightsaber (sparring with Obi-Wan always had a tendency to pay off in the least expected ways). Some choice words to Death Watch--that they'd ever given Jango a problem made his estimates of the man go even further down--had them forgetting why they ever had an issue with Fett in the first place.

He’d led troops before, but that didn’t have the same weight as this--of watching Mandalorians kneeling before him, rededicating themselves to the Resol’nare, declaring him (well, Jango Fett, but that was who he was now) the Mand’alor.

As a lesser man, he might have let it go to his head. Instead, he stayed all-business, focusing on plotting with the best of his new soldiers to take back Manda’yaim--take back the whole kriffing Sector, eventually.

Then finally, finally he could hunt down his General.

***

Alpha-17 was pretending to be Jango Fett, pretending to want peace with the New Mandalorians, pretending to protect Satine Kryze from the Death Watch (even though they were now under his control).

He couldn't even be sincere in his regard for Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, because being nice to a Jedi would be suspicious.

Sometimes he fantasized about drugging Obi-Wan, slitting Kryze's throat, and taking his little General off somewhere no one would find them.

Other times he remembered how wily his General had been and thought of the signs of that he'd already seen in the eighteen year old version of him. He knew the long game was the only one he could play.

“Jango” was not a permanent fixture, he hopped in and out of their lives, ever claiming to be on the trail of Death Watch or some other enemy. He randomized it as much as he could, not wanting to give anything away.

Getting rid of Jinn, and his incessant lectures against attachment, was the first step in this part of the plan. It also proved to be surprisingly difficult, even though he tried every time he reappeared to the group. If Alpha-17 didn't know just how good his shielding was, he'd suspect the Jedi Master knew what he was up to.

Maybe it was the "Living Force" osik he kept going on about to Obi-Wan or maybe it was pure luck, but the man proved difficult to kill.

Alpha-17, though, had faced worse odds.

They’d “split up” during an attack, Jinn and “Jango” making themselves more obvious targets so Obi-Wan could get Satine out of the way. He fought back, of course, the commandos going against them knew the plan (the plan he’d told them--that they had to carefully get rid of the older Jedi and the Duchess, to avoid Republic retaliation, before hitting the New Mandalorians where it would really hurt) and the risks.

He'd fought Force sensitives before, he knew how key distractions were, and mindset.

Over and over as Death Watch shot at them, he thought, "I'm protecting Obi-Wan," with complete sincerity.

As he turned his blaster on Jinn.

As he shot him, again and again, just to be safe.

His smoking body was caught in an explosion soon after, no trace would remain that he'd been very clearly shot in the back at close range.

Obi-Wan had felt the death through his training bond, he didn’t even have to say anything to make that clear. He’d still helped Alpha-17 escape with Satine, deflecting blaster bolts as he covered their backs.

Then he spent a day barely responsive once they were out of danger, moving like some automaton at their directions. The Duchess couldn't handle it, of course, couldn’t handle thinking of one of her protectors as a person with the same sort of feelings as she had, and it fell on Alpha-17 to take care of him.

After two months of knowing him in this time, he decided he could be more forward.

“It’s alright, Ob’ika,” he whispered to him, pulling him into his arms and rocking him as he might have one of his batchmates during a bad growth spurt.

“It’s not, my Master is dead, what am I supposed to do?” Obi-Wan turned his head into Alpha-17’s chest without prompting, clinging onto him like he might disappear, too.

Stroking his hair, Alpha-17 took a moment to catalog all of the moment, to store it away in his near-perfect memory. “You carry on. That’s all you can do, when you lose your family.”

Not that Fett had done much of that, but Obi-Wan didn’t know that. He thought Fett was trying to rebuild, to make a better Mandalore for his people. In this world, or timeline, or whatever Alpha-17 was supposed to call it, no one would ever know Fett for the failure he was.

They went back and forth like that for hours, Alpha-17 murmuring gentle assurances, Obi-Wan soaking them up. He'd wanted to do this dozens of times with his General, but while that exact man would never exist, there was enough of him in this Obi-Wan to satisfy.

With Jinn dead, they were stretched thinner. It was easy enough to get Obi-Wan to leave Satine in "Jango's" care. He couldn’t do anything to her, yet, because if she died under Obi-Wan’s protection, and especially when he wasn’t even there, he’d blame himself.

What Alpha-17 could do was convince Satine that she wanted to stop running around with just a Jedi Padawan as her main source of protection. That she should return to Sundari and her own guards, her own people.

Obi-Wan tried to argue against it, but by that point her mind was set and she was too stubborn to dissuade.

“How can I speak of peace without being willing to live a peaceful life? It looks hypocritical to have you or Fett fighting for me as you do!” Hearing his words come out of her mouth, Alpha-17 had to lock down hard on his shields to keep his amusement from leaking through. “I’m returning to Sundari and taking my rightful place as the leader of Mandalore! I refuse to let Death Watch dictate what I do any longer!”

The explosion during her return speech took out half the palace, all of the other high ranking New Mandalorians with her, and a chunk of the plaza they’d been in. Obi-Wan had been ordered to stay away, for appearances sake, and was sulking on the other side of the city when it happened.

No one could be surprised that the True Mandalorians--who had been speaking out against this from the start--swooped in to provide security that the New Mandalorians clearly weren’t capable of. Or when Jango Fett took control in the sudden power vacuum.

A brief, furious looking mock-campaign later and Death Watch was surrendering to him, convincing even many of the New Mandalorians that perhaps he was the right choice for leader during such uncertain times.

The distraction kept Obi-Wan from suggesting he return to Coruscant. The devastation of the explosion left the Order unclear as to whether Obi-Wan was even still alive (Alpha-17 possibly sent reports that suggested Obi-Wan had perished, for readers expecting a Jedi to have been with Satine, though gave no outright lies).

Alpha-17 was vindicated for all his work when, used to seeking comfort from Alpha-17, Obi-Wan came directly to him first after just a week of trying to deal with his new grief.

“I don’t understand, why didn’t she listen to us?”

“People like Satine...they never really see people like us as equals. We’re servants, no matter how close they seem to let us,” Alpha-17 explained, gentle again, because Obi-Wan always deserved gentle. “With Jinn,” Obi-Wan bit back a helpless noise, “he was an important enough outsider she listened. Once he was gone….”

“I thought I was her friend. How could I be so wrong? I don’t--I don’t know what to believe, anymore.”

Alpha-17 tilted Obi-Wan’s head up, staring into his eyes. “I swear to you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, I’m your friend.”

His conviction brought on a new round of crying, though he thought it was more from relief than anything else.

Perhaps it was wrong, to kiss away those tears when he held Obi-Wan, to sooth away his grief with pleasure, but it certainly worked.

xxxxxx

Written for Fey in exchange for an absolutely beautiful Codywan fic! I hope this comes even a little close to being that good of a read.

#character: alpha 17 #character: obi wan kenobi #ship: alpha 17 & obi wan #character: jango fett #theme: possessive behavior #character: qui gon jinn #character: satine kryze #theme: dark #verse: time travel #theme: mandalore mission

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emma-nation · 5 years ago

Text

Bloodline - KamilahxMC Fanfiction (Chapter 4) *Ending*

Summary: A Feral attack, a mysterious serum and a big mistake… what consequences will it bring to Kamilah’s life and her relationship with Amy?

Rating: T

KamilahxMC Tag List: @iam-the-fuckin-queen, @annabellewerecorgi, @voltos9, @scorpistraub, @leavemeandmyshipsalone, @jen825, @andreear17, @spacecarrousel, @justejuste727, @aureliaxj, @graceschoices, @sleeping-with-her06, @supersphynxsworld, @gavryllo, @galaxyside-0, @msuhailey, @zoe6111, @ptxgirwaffles, @tigerbryn11, @shanuuh, @ilovetaylor13m, @honorablebicycle, @ilovekamilahsayeed, @fal-carrington, @begging-for-kamilah, @kennaxval

The Battle - 1 month later, 6 PM

Struggling with severe pain, Kamilah reached for her cell phone and dialed Adrian’s number.

“Adrian… that’s me…” she lay on the couch, but it wouldn’t bring her any relief, “my assistant… she betrayed me! I’m losing my child… help me.”

In less than 10 minutes Adrian was already by her office’s door, trying to break it down.

“Kamilah, I can’t open it,” he shouted from outside. “What’s going on?”

“That traitor…” Kamilah’s eyes flared red in anger, “she must have activated the security locks.”

Dragging herself around her office, she managed to get to her computer and disable all the security system, what helped Adrian to get in.

“Let me check you,” though Adrian wasn’t a doctor, he examined her briefly. “You… You’re having an hemorrhage. If we don’t do something quickly…”

Kamilah can’t quite remember the next few minutes, between the drive to Raines Corporation and the arrival of a doctor, who worked for Adrian. She was wincing and sweating cold in pain. Her mind couldn’t focus on anything else. Meanwhile they discussed the best procedure to attempt to save her son.

The doctor placed her on IV fluids, with a medication that would neutralize the effects of the abortive substance she ingested and ease her pain.

“I’m so sorry, Kamilah,” Adrian squeezed her hand. “This is all my fault. I’ll never be able to forgive myself if…”

“That’s okay,” Kamilah lied. Deep down, she was falling apart. As usual, she was only doing her best to hide it. “Vampires aren’t meant to be parents for a reason, Adrian.”

“This isn’t true. You could’ve… You will be an incredible mom.”

She fought a smile. Suddenly, she remembered an important detail she was missing.

“Can you call Amy for me? Somebody needs to inform her."

He sighed and went to his office to make the call.

The doctor returned to conduct more exams. Kamilah looked at the monitor by her side, displaying her vitals and her baby’s vitals too. While hers were completely steady, his heart rate was abnormally high, showing signs of distress and agony. The doctor was surprised he was still alive.

When she was alone, she placed her hand over her stomach once again.

"So little and having to fight such a hard battle…” she told. “We’ve got a lot in common after all.”

Her mother also had a difficult birth when she and Lysimachus were born. With a fragile health, common for that era, she died only a few years later, when they were only 7 years old. Her father was mostly at war, leaving them at the care of his siblings and closest relatives, who never really cared about their well-being. They had thrones to be conquered and wars to be won, so she and Lysimachus basically raised themselves. Her twin brother was everyone she had. No one had been able to fill the emptiness his death left inside her soul. Until she met Amy.

“Kamilah!” The girl appeared by the laboratory’s door, her eyes were wide in scare. “A-Are you alright? How is…”

She looked at the monitors.

“The doctor just checked on us. He’s not in a good shape, Amy.”

“But…"

Tears started falling from the girl’s eyes. That destroyed Kamilah more than the fact she had been betrayed itself.

"I… uhhh…” Kamilah attempted to find an excuse to make her feel better. “I should have been more cautious with people surrounding me. Of course they’d hear the rumors.”

Her words didn’t comfort Amy at all.

“Hey,” Kamilah reached for her hand. “No matter what happens, I want you to know how much I appreciated these weeks we’ve grown closer. They made me realize I want to…”

Before she could finish, Adrian entered the room followed by the doctor.

“Kamilah, how are you feeling?” Adrian asked.

“I feel no more pain.”

“It’s a good signal. Your body is fighting off the substance, now we must see how the baby will react.”

Time enough had passed for the medication to be effective. The following hours were decisive.

When Kamilah woke up after some sleep, the doctor was ready to conduct more tests. She felt a heaviness in her chest, thinking that her son could not be alive anymore. That she wouldn’t even have the chance of seeing his face and analyze what features he had inherited from her or Amy.

The device was pressed on her belly and that sweet, comforting sound echoed again around the room. Kamilah smiled and Amy broke down in tears again.

“He’s perfectly fine,” the doctor announced. “As if he had never been affected.”

“He’s… He descends from the tree,” Adrian added. “It means…”

“He’s immune to almost everything,” Kamilah completed, “except for the tree itself.”

“Exactly.”

———-

The Proposal - 3 months later, 8 PM

Being 5 months pregnant, it was time for Kamilah to make the official announcement to the press. She could hide it for a little bit longer, if she wanted. For Amy’s frustration, her body shape wouldn’t let her belly show too much. Depending on the clothes she was wearing, no one could notice yet.

Anyways, sooner or later, the story about her pregnancy would leak and she wanted to avoid the stress of dealing with paparazzi. She scheduled an interview with a magazine, right after confirming a dinner with Amy’s parents that night.

They couldn’t tell them the whole truth. But they mentioned a research Adrian was doing, mixing both of their DNAs and how it was accidentally injected on Kamilah. All the part related to Vampires and the Tree Of Eternal Life was omitted.

At first, they were in shock and concerned about Amy, for being so young and unprepared.

“Don’t worry about that, Mrs. Parker,” Kamilah assured. “I can guarantee you Amy is more than prepared to be a mom. She has been taking a very good care of me, I mean… us, in the last few months.”

After that, they both became emotional with the news. It was less tense as Kamilah imagined, they even seemed to like her. Amy’s father was very interested in her company and how she managed to control a global business so easily. Amy’s mother was already making plans for the baby’s room and telling how much she’d love to help with the decoration. Between all that conversation, Kamilah decided it was time to drop the question.

“Mr. and Mrs. Parker,” she cleared her throat. “The reason why I asked Amy to schedule this dinner was not only to announce our pregnancy. There’s another matter I’d like to discuss with you.”

Amy looked at her confused.

“What is it, Kamilah?” Amy’s father asked.

“As much as I appreciate the wonders of the modern world Amy is always introducing me to, I think some formality should be preserved. So, would you both grant me permission to ask your daughter to marry me?”

“Kamilah, you don’t have to…” Amy interrupted, already breaking down in tears. It impressed Kamilah how she became more emotional with motherhood, even if she was the one carrying the baby.

“Of course,” Amy’s father nodded. “My daughter couldn’t have picked a better wife.”

“Yes,” following her daughter’s reaction, Amy’s mother was crying too. “My little girl… she has never looked so happy before. And since she started dating you, she has grown so much. You’ve made her a serious and responsible woman.”

“Mom, the embarrassment, please.”

Kamilah took a small velvet box from the pocket of her suit and opened it, revealing a ring with a huge diamond on it.

“Amy, will you marry me?” She finally asked.

“A million times yes!” Amy embraced her tightly, after Kamilah slipped the ring on her finger.

———-

The Arrival - 7 months later, 7 PM

Like Kamilah herself, her son was very punctual. He decided to make his entrance to this world by the exact date he was supposed to born. And he couldn’t have picked a better time, just when Kamilah had finished an important business meeting.

As her water broke and her contractions started, Amy placed her inside one of the company’s cars and started to drive through the New York traffic like a maniac. If the pain didn’t kill Kamilah first, her fiancée would certainly do. They stopped in front of Raines Corporation and an employee came to help, taking them to the laboratories. A doctor was already waiting.

“It hurts…” Kamilah grimaced. “I’ve been beaten, shot, stabbed, burned… nothing ever hurt like this!”

“Y-You need to stay calm…” Amy suggested, “a-and breathe… j-just like this…”

“Are you telling this to me or yourself?”

“Both. God, I feel I’m going to faint.”

Amy paced nervously around the room, torn between supporting Kamilah and avoid looking too much.

“Okay,” the doctor told Kamilah. “I can almost feel him. I need you to push harder.”

Kamilah had suddenly lost all her strength. She was consumed by pain. All she desired were more and more pain killers. For a second, she wondered if the pregnancy had turned her back to a mortal.

“I-I can’t…” she told between pants. “I can’t do this…”

“Of course you can!” Amy squeezed hard on her hand. “Kamilah, you’ve fought wars, you’ve lead revolutions, you’re the CEO of an empire. You can do anything.”

“Oh Amy, that’s sweet. But none of it has caused THIS much of pain!”

She took a deep breath and continued to push, as harder as she could. Minutes later, the doctor was holding her baby boy in his arms.

He didn’t cry much. Only enough to let them know he was perfectly healthy. The first time Kamilah held that little creature, her entire world changed. She realized she had been wrong, all this time. She hadn’t experienced everything that was to feel. That feeling was something entirely new. The best feeling she ever had in over two thousand years of life.

“He’s perfect,” her thumb gently caressed the baby’s face.

“He…” Amy was sobbing so much could barely speak. “He… is…”

“He’s a perfect mix of you and me.”

Adrian was standing in the corner of the room, in tears too.

“Come here,” Amy called him and the two hugged each other tightly. “Kamilah has brought a champagne bottle in the car. We need to celebrate.”

“Congratulations, you both,” he smiled. “It’s a gorgeous and strong boy.”

“Would you like to hold him?” Kamilah asked. That was the right thing to do. Besides giving her son life, Adrian was also the most supportive uncle in the last few months.

Adrian nodded and took the baby boy in his arms. Kamilah could tell there was a little bit of pain in his smile, from remembering of his son, Charles.

“Such a handsome and tough guy can only have an important name, have you decided yet?” He asked both Kamilah and Amy.

“I’ve always wanted to honor my brother, but that would be quite a complicated name for these times. So, I’m honoring somebody else. Someone that deserves to be honored as much as my brother…”

Amy gave her an approving nod.

“Adrian, this is Malik Charles Sayeed.”

“And Malik,” she took her baby boy back, as Adrian could no longer hold his emotions. “This is your uncle Adrian. I have a strange feeling you’ll get along very well…”

———-

The Boy - 3 years later, 4:30 PM

With Amy by her side, Kamilah toasted to another great contract she managed to close. Since her wife had joined her in the company, Ahmanet Financial was only growing and improving, worldwide.

Amy glanced at her cell phone, with a worried look on her face.

“Kamilah, it’s one of the caretakers,” she told. “Malik isn’t in the educational space.”

“What?!” Kamilah shouted. “You check the building. I’ll go to my office and check the security cameras.”

Kamilah’s heart was thundering inside her chest. Since the incident with Erin, she could trust absolutely no one to look after her son.

Genetically speaking, he was a Vampire, but he only displayed a few signs. Malik would never get sick and everytime he got hurt, the wound would instantly heal. He never showed fangs, red eyes or desire for blood. Yet. Adrian thought it was possible someday. If something triggered the full transition. He also got some Bloodkeeper abilities, even being a male. For her luck, he was only able to access the most recent memories of a Vampire.

Besides that, he was the only heir of one the largest and most successful companies in America. He was an easy target for kidnapping.

She opened her office’s door, ready to lunge directly at her desk. But there was he, together with his personal caretaker. A vampire from Kamilah’s clan, who was forced to leave her family behind when she was Turned. She cared for Malik as her own son.

“Mrs. Sayeed,” Carrie told. “He was very bored after he finished his activities before the rest of the children. He became disruptive and insisted on coming to your office.”

“This little stubborn brat…” Kamilah frowned, still affected by the scare. “You can go, Carrie. I’ll handle him.”

Malik was innocently playing at her desk, dialing false numbers on her phone and trying to mimic her with his sweet three years old voice.

“Ahmanet Finances. Mr. Sayeed speaking.”

Upon that, the frown quickly disappeared from Kamilah’s face.

Her son was kind and loving, never showing any aggressiveness against a single person. Inheriting Amy’s personality, he was very sociable and communicative. And he certainly had Kamilah’s brains, being good with numbers and puzzles since very early.

“Hey,” Kamilah called his attention. “What are you doing here?”

“Mama!” He stopped what he was doing to jump straight into her arms. “I missed you.”

“Oh. I missed you too.”

She took him back to her desk, holding him in her arms. Malik was growing so quickly she could swear it would stop being possible anytime soon.

“I made a drawing,” he told, excited.

“Really? Let me see it.”

Kamilah took the paper in her hands. All she could see were a bunch of scrawls that resembled human shapes. Malik started to point the people he drew.

“That’s me, you and mama Amy. Here’s uncle Adrian, auntie Lily and uncle Jax.”

Something in the corner of the drawing called Kamilah’s attention. Unlike of the rest of that drawing, that figure was easy to distinguish. She felt a shiver going down her spine.

“And here, Malik. What is it?”

“A tree.”

“Have you…” she swallowed hard. “Have you seen this tree before?”

The boy nodded.

“In my dreams.”

“And how does it make you feel? Do you like it? Do it scares you?”

The boy was pensive for a moment before laughing to himself.

“No, mama. It’s just a tree.”

“Okay.”

Keeping the drawing on her desk, she started to think if that should be a sign of concern or not. Also descending from Rheya, Amy had visions about the tree all the time and she never turned evil. So why would her son? Kamilah shrugged, letting go of her thoughts.

“Mama, I wanna play,” Malik looked at her with puppy dog eyes.

“What game would you like to play?” Kamilah asked, already knowing the answer.

“You know.”

Kamilah sighed and took something from her secret drawer. Her brother’s wooden toy.

“Close your eyes,” she ordered. “I’m gonna hide it somewhere in this office. If you find it, you’ll get a prize.”

“Ice cream?” Malik asked, covering his eyes with his tiny hands.

“Yes,” Kamilah rolled her eyes. “Ice cream.”

That kid knew how to trick Kamilah into give him what he wanted just well. She hid the toy behind a plant vase, an easy spot for her son to find.

“Ready?” She asked.

The boy nodded. Before started searching, he discreetly gave a quick touch on his mother’s hand. Closing his eyes, he could see exactly where the wooden toy was placed.

“Found it,” he went to the exact spot Kamilah hid the toy. “I win!”

She rolled her eyes and complained, realizing what he had just done.

“You and Amy are no fun to play with. But okay, you’ve won. Let’s find mama Amy and get your ice cream.”

———-

Notes: I considered doing an epilogue, showing Malik’s full Turning when he’s 18 years old, but let’s end this with a happy ending, right? ;)

#bloodbound #kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #playchoices #choices stories you play #bloodbound fanfiction

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script-a-world · 6 years ago

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1. Hey, your submit page is unresponsive... You just answered my question on government. Looks like there's a lot of confusing information. Very sorry. The main thing is in my research I cannot find exact hierarchies of government and positions of control and how important each position is to even build a government and their positions. The main reason is my plot is assigning key positions to those loyal to the prince not the emperor. But I need to know what positions so I can plot.

2. All the plot I mentioned is perhaps background details. First of all, there are two emperors, A and B. A has a daughter, C and sons D’s. B has a son, E. Now, when I said I wanted to have some parallels in modern government, I meant like Tibet. It’s meant to feel like imagining if all of China’s autonomous provinces were like Tibet as well. This is sort of what I meant as D’s lands, still part of A’s empire, but separate. But when A dies, the D’s have to figure out how to rule both what’s

3. theirs and A’s (he didn’t name a successor), but the whole thing falls apart. And that’s also where I’m making parallels, Tibet is trying to not be part of China, like the sons are trying to be their own empire. Then because of this fighting, emperor B beings war and takes over the entire thing adding it to his empire. Mostly keeping the government hierarchy but all loyal to B. That’s why the marriage is important. C had already married E before A died and they absolutely do not like what B

4.did, so are taking the whole thing back, without war, slowly by getting those loyal to C and E into crucial government positions until they can force those loyal to B out. I already have this plot plan so no I’m not asking for how to do plot, but WHAT positions as I can’t research out a good breakdown chart of how any entire government’s control works and how much power the positions have SO I can plot this.___________________________________________________________Mod Note: This was in reference to this previous ask: https://script-a-world.tumblr.com/post/178890566136/a-king-gave-land-to-his-sons-as-part-as-his-empire Please note if you are having trouble submitting or sending an ask, please keep trying or try using a different web browser if you can. Tumblr is not the most functional site, as we all know.Saphira: It sounds like you already know what you need to do. You have your era, you have your culture that you're basing on, and you have your objective.

What I would do in your position is study Chinese Government- but not as a rigid set of rules. Study the people. Study what they did to one another, how new families rose to power.

Once you have that, approach this question again with the perspective of the person who has to assign the roles. I don't believe this is a worldbuilding problem. I think this is the challenge your characters must overcome.

Lurelay: Types of governments, their hierarchies and power dynamics vary greatly from both place to place and time periods. Sometimes the only thing two empires have in common is their status as such.

Trying to find the answers you are looking for would therefore take a lot of research and even then it would be almost impossible for us to know what exactly suits your story and what doesn't – mostly because there is no one perfect way to fill the gaps, but several completely depending on what you prefer. It's your story! Sometimes it's perfectly fine to just make something up if you can't find a perfect real-life equivalent for it.

My advice would be to sit down and start from the boring basics. Know what makes your empire work from the grounds up. Google “types of governments“. Read Wikipedia articles about noble ranks in different countries. Take notes of what you like and adapt what doesn't suit your needs.

Tex: Government hierarchies and positions of control, while necessary for any government to function, requires a nuanced understanding of political and government theories - I think a lot of your confusion stems from an unstable foundation in these areas, because unless you want to research IRL governments (here, Tibet and China) through all of its eras until you find what you want (which you should really do anyway!), a solid grasp of the underpinnings will help you intuitively build a government from scratch.

None of us can write your story for you, so in this instance citing details of your plot and expecting us to be able to produce a chart of a government - something we can't do and if you've already got governments in mind then they should have a public space on their official websites to education their people on their own government - is a detrimental approach for both you and us.

I'm going to list a few Wikipedia articles that I would like you to read, because for the issues you're having with your world, you need to have that foundational understanding of political theory, and I think it would help you greatly if you perused these:

Politics Portal

List of forms of government

.gov - International Equivalents

You're asking us about the specific machinations of a government, so the details of your plot are unnecessary for us to know. If you'd like to come back, and ask specific questions about China's and Tibet's government - such as the different branches or its interactions with the economy or a specific era - please do so. There are no charts for this kind of thing, it's something that you need to have prior knowledge and understanding of basic government function before you can create positions in said government.

Feral: You're in luck! Hello Future Me just finished a phenomenal 3 part series on how to build and then destroy (important to go in that order) a fictional empire. I strongly recommend following Saphira's, Lurelay's, and Tex's advice on research and then check out these three videos. In order:

Part 1: How Do Empires Work? [ Youtube ]

Part 2: How Does an Empire Rise? [ Youtube ]

Part 3: How Does an Empire Fall? [ Youtube ]

#Anonymous #pylons #culture #politics

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fireeaglespirit · 6 years ago

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beyond-far-horizons

This is awesome and because *hangs head in shame* I dont play the games (i'm a noob with no money and my parents never let me have video games so I just like the story okay?) I have never seen this bit.

I ADORE multiverse/underworld stuff as you know or perhaps you don't as I don't know how far I got explaining Aeq and Midnight Palace but it is FULL of that stuff. I love the symbolism and it is very Jungian (I am the Priest of Jung okay, welcome to the New Testament of Jess!) But I need to sleep rn so we can get to it later.

Thank you for showing me because then I can reference it if I have time but I have so many other things going on right now and dunno I love fanfic and these stories but then I get down because I get virtually no response and I need that interaction to continue. It is my luck to always like dead fandoms with minor prequel characters I guess...still I do feel the fanfic has improved my writing and vice versa

I was thinking alot about hell and demons and what 'heaven' would be as I had a very detailed review on FF.net asking me all this questions, like why Sparda would long for the light if he is a demon and dunno, it always comes back to my pet theories of light and dark and the union of opposites. Sparda is so interesting because I feel he came to 'justice' on his own but probably also cemented by this mysterious priestess who he had to sacrifice. At least that is the way

the way I would go if I was developing the lore or a prequel game. It seems the most juicy option. Anyways this 'light' ties into my feelings about the transcendent, this higher power/reality urging all to grow and develop. I guess I would see demons as base and vicious aspects of reality and sources of wild and violent energy - very much as both Jung and early cultures saw them or primal gods or 'titans'.

It's also why I have a headcanon Sparda a)is fascinated by humans - they have the same struggles as him and b)he has a huge library on religions of the world, history, philosophy and science because he is still trying to discover the nature of reality just like Eva and this is what really brings them together. I wrote this line last night when Eva looks at all the books 'So you devour our souls metaphorically instead of physically now?'

I debated on making Sparda saintly, like he has already has his struggle and is now secure in himself but that isn't interesting to me plus you know our shared love of fighting with the feral nature to ultimately make the person better. Plus I kinda like the romantic angst that way like with MadaMito hehe

Okay I need to go to bed now.

Ok, prepare for huge contrived reply incoming...

First of all. What??

I hate when parents do this. I’m so sorry, I never knew about it... I really hate this.

Video games are just another media, I never understood why people would pick on that and forbid their child from having some fun. FFS.

If you want to play something some day I’ll always be there to help you installing, finding them, etc.. whatever you might need. Or even just finding anything related to games, etc.. I don’t play much these days as you know the multiple reasons but it was such an important part of my life I can barely imagine being cut out from this, even thought we always had old consoles this was very important.

About Sparda and the fic. I need to be sincere and say I’m taking so long to reply for two reasons. First because I LOVE the way you wrote Sparda but I was afraid of being too simplistic with my reply so I delved a lot on things...

But... tah-dah : I lost the huge reply I had wrote before. My note has 0 battery so its glued to the wall and it just turns off sometimes suddenly and I’m dumb and don’t save things so yeah. I kinda lost myself and got angry about that.

Anyway, I understand what you said here, especially your feelings about the fic, in many ways I can see how my fandom views reflect in the original world I’m making, and the inverse is contrary. There are many parallels. It really helps and fandom work is as worthy as original, imo, I’ve been thinking about this. Our obsession with prequels and obscure characters has a reason and that is exactly because we want to explore what is hidden behind the veil... exploring the possibilities.

Sometimes it comes to shipping speculation, and this too has a reason.

Thinking about your views on Sparda and Eva, I thought a lot on what it truly means to write or develop an obscure ship and why we are so interested in that (think about that, many of our common favorite characters from prequels, etc..)

I came to the conclusion that in Eva/Sparda just like in many of our other ships, has the common theme of the heroin facing her ‘dark reflection’, her ‘animus’ as Jung would say (OH BOY I’m entering that with you), and she, at first rejects it like she reflects her own darker aspects, her unconscious… its abhorrent for her so she seeks to destroy it as rapidly as possible as seen by Eva’s renewed determination after learning Sparda’s true nature in chapter 1. The animus represents her doubts and unconscious... However what we see in your story is much more interesting.

Most stories of this kind focus solely in the female aspect changing from her interactions with the male, who is already developed, but here we have Eva being able to re-awaken some viciousness in Sparda when it seems he has been quite restrained from quite some time (centuries) but also, something that is much more interesting.. it calls to his own determination and his own personal story and sacrifice, for some reason his ‘lust’ and brush with the dark side makes it all more important and more powerful than if he simply had been saintly at that point, like you said. It makes he revisit it all and ponder.

I love how you added lines of ‘temptation’ from Mundus, part of Sparda seeks to surrender to his ‘nature’ as its just so easy, like slip in a pair of old shoes... while the priestess memory, albeit silently, fights it and reminds him of his struggle and his ideals and ultimately her sacrifice which was also his own sacrifice (of his old ways). I think his darker side has been neglected and I think you will use this to develop Sparda into greater heights. Its great we get to see this in the actual story and he is not perfect, but he certainly is incredible.

Also, just as a side-note I loved how you described his hunger as mostly non-carnal as he glimpses her spirit and its light... when we see Sparda’s POV we get reminded every time of his non-human nature and his non-human perception of things which is clearly different. A demon’s prey is not flesh but spirit and this makes a lot of sense and a lot of potential.

To sum it up, you snatched the best of both worlds and is about to develop both characters under a relationship, as they have a lot to learn and gain from each other. I think this is the way your narrative is going, more or less.

These developments are unique aspects which I find extremely interesting and you are doing this in such a genial way and I can see already by the end of the latest chapter the strings of the themes I mentioned are pulled and ready to be followed.

So yeah, they’re in for a journey of development together. Neither of them starts the story as a ‘perfect’ entity either way... This was shown in a very nice way as you pointed out misconceptions regarding both sides involving the duo of protagonists.

“I was thinking alot about hell and demons and what 'heaven' would be as I had a very detailed review on FF.net asking me all this questions, like why Sparda would long for the light if he is a demon and dunno, it always comes back to my pet theories of light and dark and the union of opposites. Sparda is so interesting because I feel he came to 'justice' on his own but probably also cemented by this mysterious priestess who he had to sacrifice. At least that is the way I would go if I was developing the lore or a prequel game. It seems the most juicy option. Anyways this 'light' ties into my feelings about the transcendent, this higher power/reality urging all to grow and develop. I guess I would see demons as base and vicious aspects of reality and sources of wild and violent energy - very much as both Jung and early cultures saw them or primal gods or 'titans'.”

I abstained a bit from the conversation earlier as I feared my careless/godless (lmao) perception was too disturbing for you or anyone but I also pondered on concepts such as heaven and hell, salvation, damnation, etc.. when considering Sparda’s tale. I know DMC isn't Christianity but its imagery is somewhat based on Abrahamic religion/mythos so I’m bound to take in consideration some of my ideas regarding biblical mythology, as in...

When I started reading the bible so long ago it always puzzled me to imagine what exactly were angels/demons. I mean, are they even able to think in the same way as us?? Or are them more like ‘robots’, AI following orders (especially angels sometimes strikes me as that) and perhaps demons are those ‘robots’ that rebelled against their determined function, idk.

Something I wondered more than a decade ago was if demons in the bible are truly lost in every way so I started thinking within the dmc setting. I’m interested in that all and those things I mentioned. The interesting part is that I once asked that to my catechist if demons could be redeemed (lmao I was crazy, I know, but bored above all). She was at first very mad with me (she was always) but she reluctantly told me that demons had known god up close and felt his power so their sin in not following him is much bigger than a human’s, something of the sorts. So it sounded like they are also able to choose their way and I sort of apply this to dmc, lol. I’m weird, I know...

Are they capable or ‘worthy’ of forgiveness, because demons in dmc clearly have free will and thought like us, or at least similar to us. Some of them, like Sparda have clearly a lot of intellect, but like you said... others are very ‘primal’. Perhaps this is the key. The ‘evolved’ demon develops intellect and power... perhaps you are in the right track and it goes hand in hand? Does this make any sense?? The more powerful and developed they are, the more they develop ‘higher brain functions’ and star resembling a human more, idk because the lower demons in dmc are clearly more animal-like and primal while Sparda has a human-like shape and intellect.

I think I know where we are going and this looks like both angels and demons are actually a ‘reflection’ of human psyche. So, demons are the primal ancient aspects of the brain are somehow walking around hell just like that, while heaven and its inhabitants are mysterious. I really like the way you described hell and its inhabitants, it makes a lot of sense to imagine it as a part of human psyche embodied, in a way. I imagine Heaven as the exact inverse of Hell so it has its own creatures and they’re born from ‘order’ instead of chaos as stated above.

We have Bayonetta as a source of inspiration and I think its very valid to use that in order to understand Sparda. Heaven isn’t exactly good there, is it? In fact it appears like a very controlling environment.

Hell: Primal, violent, survival of the fittest anyone? Hell inhabitants embodied the most basic aspects of the brain, as you said.

Heaven: It might stem from higher planes of thinking and represent the more ‘sublime’ or ‘newer’ aspects of the evolving mammal brain.

It might make an easy choice for heaven but also such tight atmosphere is bound to become stagnant, it is no longer permitting flaws and strong emotions (thus angels look apathetic af in Bayonetta).

It might seem at first glance that heaven is good, hell is bad, however I think, if you delve into heaven you might realize the beings born there might be too ‘disembodied’ as they represent exactly those parts of human psyche which are the most sublime. Let me explain, I always felt like too much spirituality tends to make people leave behind the reality of things, it might make them lack empathy for living beings who have to commit difficult decisions on a living basis, basic survival, starvation, the struggle for life, etc..

Think about enlightenment and Bodhisattva, also the rituals of mortification which are legit scary and reminds me of this concept as only those who leave behind all that is ‘mortal’ and are detached to an extreme, can reach Nirvana. I know this has not much to do with Christianity but even in this religion we find analogous associations regarding detachment as divine and saintly. Its also harmful in a way, or am I reaching? While too much focus on the primal/carnal leads to obvious horrible things: vice and chaos; too much detachment leads to apathy.

I do think some level of detachment is necessary to reach happiness but too much of it makes people forget the reality of life and makes them not able to relate anymore to the ones around them, as the focus becomes solely spiritual it kind of deafens them to the ‘real world’ and ignore it.

This is all about reaching a balance as its is our favorite theme, too much light is bad, too much darkness is bad, etc.. or else the story would fall into itself as the reality of the three settings (heaven, hell, earth) would be rigid.

So here we have a darker aspect of heaven, imo, to balance things out.

Heaven is clearly ‘order’ and hell is ‘chaos’ so we might as well find a balance... our favorite theme as always. The fact that one being like Sparda, born amidst ultimate chaos would gaze upward in delight and desire something else doesn't surprise me. The fact is he could be bitter about it, you even gave away the line on your fic where Sparda mentions he has been denied ‘light’. I wonder what exactly that means and this is one of my favorite aspects of your Sparda is that he is aware of his condition and even thought he worked against it its still lingering to him.. like his own flickering appearance.

But he hasn’t made his way up to heaven, huh?

So its not a far reach to believe in it (that he desired ‘light’, whatever it is) but my personal belief is that too much ‘light’ is not good either and Sparda realized the beauty in flawed humanity, which sits right in the middle of light and darkness, order and chaos... that’s why he became enamored by the concept of humanity and all the struggle our own condition imposes upon us.

For me this is an archetypal theme.

Just food for thought.

The matter is... how? What exactly awakened him to justice?

This makes stuff much more interesting. This was a huge ramble, I know but I needed to develop this and see if it works,

So yeah, about a) I’m totally with you and I can see why Sparda would empathize with humans, as I talked earlier and I think my explanation on why Sparda would be fascinated by humans instead of ‘angels’ is made up above and I hope this doesn't sound too weird, just my line of thought.

As a demon, he’s born from a very ‘imperfect’ reality. He knows how shitty things can be... Now I really wonder how his life was before he ‘awakened to justice’ he must have witnessed some remarkably horrible things in his life..

Under the setting I mentioned, it would be I think its kinda easier for a demon to do this since angels would be too stuck up in their haven, idk so this is how Sparda, the unlikely hero is the first of these beings to take arms and defend humanity. Sparda is so special as he was the one to side with humans by his own decision and free will. What a guy!

I’m glad you didn't! This is probably a gradual process even thought they say he ‘awakened to justice’ which makes it seem like he suddenly just did so I believe he had brewing feelings from his life as a demon in hell...

He must have been such an unique individual to perceive truths his peers where not ready to learn and truly, an act of rebellion against the system itself coming from someone who is ‘supposed’ to do only harm is really something we want to see on screen and I’m so glad you didn't simplify it as being a single event in his life.

I’m really in love with this theme because it shows these beings are able to change their own destinies, even someone with such dark origins.

#beyond-far-horizons #dmc #sparda #eva

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darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts · 6 years ago

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Devil’s own Luck pt16

Warning: Mob styling warlords, strong language

Masterlist

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Chapter 16- Playing with Fire

“Mitsunari get out they’re here.” Masamune tapped on the roof of the car causing the bookworm to jump.

“Coming.” Mitsunari looked around they had arrived some time ago but he appeared to only just now be aware of it.

“So nice of you to join us.” Nobunaga said to the approaching men. He had his usually infuriating arrogant smirk on his face as he watched the men amble towards him up the slight incline of grass.

“I wish I could say that it was a pleasant surprise to be invited to a talk with you. But I’m afraid I would be lying.” Shingen sounded as friendly and light hearted as always but his eyes were burning in unvoiced hatred as he looked at Nobunaga.

“How dare you.” Hideyoshi who had been a few steps behind his boss talking to Ieyasu stepped forward to be closer to Nobunaga. His hand was twitching very slightly, if anyone was going to start a fight he was going to make sure they didn’t lay a finger on the boss.

“Now Hideyoshi we are here for a chat like gentlemen.” Nobunaga tilted his head to reassure his man and also remind him that it was supposed to be a ‘friendly’ meeting.

“Yeah, so keep your big ape mouth shut.” Yukimura seemed to mirror Hideyoshi’s idea of defending his boss by taking a few steps closer to Shingen’s side.

“What was that you oversized lapdog?” Hideyoshi spat.

“I think we are getting a little off topic.” Sasuke said a little louder than normal as he pushed his glasses further up to the bridge of his nose and pushed his hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes.

“I was rather enjoying the direction this was taking personally.” Masamune was smiling happily leaning with his back on the car next to Mitsunari watching the two guys sling insults.

“You would.” Ieyasu grumbled and kicked the ground beneath his feet a little in his own quite frustration.

“I didn’t think I would find someone to agree with here, but I am inclined to agree with the one-eyed Dragon.” Kenshin gave Masamune an appraising look as his naturally icy tone cut through the tense air whilst adding fuel to it.

“Did Hell freeze over?” Masamune squared his one eye with the blue and green set of Kenshin a playful feral grin on his face.

“You’ll figure that out when we send you there.” Yukimura was not backing down his hackles were well and truly up. He was tense before the meeting but actually in the presence of all of their enemies he was bubbling over.

“What is that meant to mean?” Ieyasu moved from his spot and was walking to join them when one of Hideyoshi’s arms came up and rested on his shoulder preventing him from getting too close.

“That is simple gentlemen, you see as of open of market trading this morning the Uesugi / Takeda alliance had become the main and only stock holder of Azuki Corp. Your Devil King had been dethroned.” Shingen said as a devilish grin spread across his face. He was enjoying his moment of telling them all that their time was up.

– HA HA –

A loud deep laugh that was completely at odds with the information that had just been shared. All of them looked for the source of it.

“Congratulations.” Nobunaga said as he silenced his own mirth. Grinning at Shingen like a Cheshire cat.

“Is that all you have to say? You do understand what we have just told you? You own nothing we have it all.” Kenshin looked at him as if he thought the man had completely lost his mind.

“Oh, gentlemen I didn’t have anything in the first place. I haven’t for quite some time.” Nobunaga was still chuckling the rumble of it rolling out in waves.

“WHAT!?” All of the voices from both sides seemed to combine and echo out over the quite landscape.

“I am aware of you buying my stocks because they all came from me to start with. Separate accounts lots of different routes but still all me. When you receive the paperwork later today you will see that yes you have brought my company out completely but apart from a name there is nothing else too it currently.” Speaking like he was an actor giving a grand performance on a stage Nobunaga watched as the light of hatred turned to doubt in the eyes of Shingen.

“That can’t be… we researched everything we looked into everything there was nothing…” Yukimura paled as he tried to process what they were being told.

“Yes nothing. You found nothing because there was never anything there to find. Everything, and I mean everything, was safely locked away from where any of your spies could ferret it out. Only myself knew any of the details and that is how it remained until very recently.” Nobunaga shot the young man a vexed glance.

“Hey Nobunaga what are you talking about?” Hideyoshi’s jaw had dropped in the face of the news. He was searching for anything in his boss’s face that might prove that this was in fact a joke.

“Yeah Boss what gives?” Masamune moved away from the car Mitsunari next to him drawing closer to try to work out what was going on.

“You seriously didn’t tell any of your own inner circle a thing about this?” Kenshin appeared stunned by the reactions around him.

“There was no need to. It was never going to affect them.” Nobunaga shrugged with a caviller attitude to what was happening as people reacted to the results of his plan.

“Not affect them? You just sold out your own company that is a support for theirs and you think it won’t affect them?” Yukimura was wide eyed. The idea that someone could do something that affect so many without informing them first was not something that he was used to at all. Shingen had always tried to inform people of his plan’s before acting on them even if he hadn’t always given them complete details. It was curtesy.

“Oh dear.” Sasuke had a stoic expression as he silently appraised what they had just been told. He had pulled out his smart phone and was working fast flicking between screens and pulling up files and messages.

“What?” Yukimura asked looking towards his friend.

“We have seriously miscalculated.” Sasuke drew alongside Shingen and showed him a few different things fast. Shingen’s chocolate brown eyes melted as he saw the truth play out on the electronic devise.

“Unfortunately, I have to agree with you there Sasuke.” Shingen said quietly as he appeared to visibly shrink in size before all the men gathered.

“What?” Yukimura practically grabbed the phone from Sasuke to see for himself and his face drained of all its colour completely.

“My plan was always to unite the cartels in the city and with this last move I have done or will do so I should say. You see I too have been planning a takeover and imagine my surprise to learn that both of the last big cartels had joined forces. How lucky I felt.” Nobunaga’s smile threatened to split his face in half.

“You couldn’t have known we would.” Shingen was looking at Nobunaga searching for anything that might help right now. Something that told him he wasn’t that predictable.

“No, I didn’t. But once you did, I had even higher hopes of my plans success. You see after it is known that you have brought nothing more than a shell for a company you will in turn also crumble on the exchange. I already have people working as we speak buying up the majority of your stock.” Nobunaga continued unfazed by the looks from his own men that were now turned from looks of shock to admiration at their boss’s ingenuity.

“We can still stop you.” Kenshin bitterly spoke. Of the two men that held the heads of the last big threat to Azuki Corp. He was the one that Nobunaga knew would try to dig his heels in and claw back.

“How pray tell? You have used all of your resources to buy what you have now. Your shareholders will not be happy at an unsuccessful takeover attempt. I have all the cards now gentlemen.” Nobunaga looked down his nose at Kenshin.

“You were playing with a marked fucking deck.” Yukimura cried out in frustration at the devil in front of them all.

“Maybe so, but you accepted the game knowing there was a risk. By closing time tomorrow, I shall be assuming control of Uesugi/ Takeda alliance and by extension regaining Azuki Corp. along with it.” Nobunaga straightened as he hammered home the final nails in their collective coffin.

“I would rather die than let you have that.” Kenshin was expressionless except for the fire burning in his mis-matched eyes.

“Then by all means you are welcome to fall on your sword Kenshin. I would however suggest you don’t. You see I will be leaving as I have already said and I will need men to run the companies whilst I am preoccupied elsewhere. Good staff are so hard to get but I suppose you will have to do for now.” Nobunaga calmly spoke as he put his hands casually into his trouser pockets and gave a shrug.

“You want us to agree to work for you? With you? Why?” Shingen could feel the bile rising in his throat the idea he had lost was bad enough but to work with the Devil?

“I took away your company once and thought I had crushed you. You fought back you showed a level of tenacity that I can actually admire. Believe it or not we had the same idea, a unified cartel network with no fighting, just organised crime under one banner. We had different means to an end and you hate me for it.” Nobunaga spoke plainly. It would be the only way to prove any level of sincerity in what he was saying and he knew it.

“You killed hundreds! You crushed hundreds more.” Shingen’s voice was angry but it was clear the fire was leaving. With no resources and no way to fight back it was like someone had thrown a bucket of water on him.

“I didn’t say I didn’t understand why you hated me. In fact, recently I have come to a realisation that I might not always have to result to bloodshed to win a fight.” Nobunaga’s words made Shingen look at him probably for the first time and really search for a trick or anything that said he was lying this time. He couldn’t see any… he was telling the truth.

“Why should we trust anything of what you say now?” Yukimura was still young and pushing back. It was admirable that even in the face of defeat he still had passion enough to keep going. Shingen turned to him and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and quietly shook his head. Yukimura stilled and bit his lip as he tried to regain control on his own anger and confusion.

“Because as it stands right now, this is all you have. I want to call a truce.” Nobunaga declared as he looked between Kenshin and Shingen.

“Can you really call it a truce in this case?” Yukimura asked rhetorically.

“I think he can currently call it whatever he likes and we would just have to agree.” Sasuke finally sighed and put his phone away back in his jacket pocket. Adjusting his glasses on his face once more as he looked between all the men gathered.

“Ok Nobunaga you win.” Shingen hung his shoulders in defeat and reluctantly offered his hand to make a pact with him.

“I would have preferred a battle but as it stands right now with all the facts that isn’t possible. I accept also.” Kenshin still visibly agitated couldn’t fight the facts and similarly offered his hand as well.

– BANG –

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About an hour had passed since the guys had left the Azuki building and [Name] had been told to stay in her room and wait until they returned. Mitsuhide had arranged for some men to stay behind as guards for general security but he had made her promise that she wouldn’t leave her room so as to make it easier for her to be kept safe.

“You aren’t filling me with a lot of confidence that this is just a standard security thing you know?” She looked at him and thought she could see something playing behind his yellow eyes. A ghost of something passing over his face as he looked at her.

“My dearest little mouse I am only trying to limit the possibilities in a worst-case scenario and you have already proven to be much more trouble than any little creature should be. Now be a good girl and promise me that you will stay put.”

His voice was like an intoxicating poison dripping into her ear as he drew her closer to him with one arm brushing his fingers over her cheek and down her neck. She couldn’t move, she hadn’t wanted to but she was lost in his eyes and all she could do was nod in agreement to his request.

And that was how she came to be sitting in her room listlessly gazing out of the window with a cup of coffee. She had tried to read and draw but each time she picked up either a book or pencil her mind drifted and she couldn’t concentrate.

It was whilst she was looking at the world outside hoping they would all return home safe and soon that a loud piercing alarm sprang to life. She moved quickly away from the window towards the main door of the room and saw smoke leaking around the edges. The place is on fire!? Sorry Mitsuhide I have to leave.

She apologised for braking her promise as she opened the door, the smoke was thicker but held no heat. If the fire was around then it wasn’t near her just yet. She tried to run the layout that she could remember of the building in her head and work out where the fire escape was. As she moved she tripped over something and ended up sprawled on the floor.

[Name] tried to stand but failed as a pain shot up from her ankle giving just enough of a momentary shock to cause her to tumble onto her backside once more.

“Ouch!” Well that hurts. What did I trip over?

She looked around and saw the unconscious figures of some of the men left behind to guard the building. The closet one to her was missing part of his face and had a massive hole in the back of his skull. The smoke was making identification difficult and obscuring some of the more horrific details of his apparent injuries and for that she was grateful.

Her stomach was flipping she wanted to scream or vomit … probably both but she couldn’t not right now. Trying to ignore the lancing pain in her ankle she scrabbled to put distance between her and the unfortunate man before her. A creeping fear came over her that whoever had done this was still here.

It was too little to late. A pair of gloved hands grabbed her from behind and held her in place.

“Argh what are you doing? Let go of me!” she struggled and screamed but the hands and arms that held her didn’t move.

“Well now it looks like we found the Devil’s woman. Those smoke bombs are pretty effective.” A masculine voice announced from behind her and another man appeared in front of her. Smoke bombs? It wasn’t even a real fire? The swirling smoke in the air was clearing but the alarms were still ringing out.

“Thank you for making our search a little easier we have someone who would like to talk to you.” She couldn’t tell what the other man looked like as his face was covered in a scarf but he appeared to be fiddling with something he had taken from his pocket.

“What are you saying I’m not… mfh!” A hand was slapped across her face and she could smell something sweet and flowery… almost alcoholic. Chloroform!

---

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seven-oomen · 4 years ago

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Hi, Ben! Hope your day is going well so far! Congrats on the new sofa, and on getting it up the stairs (did you at any point develop the urge to start shouting “Pivot! Pivot!” ? XD [Sorry, can’t help myself, it’s where my brain immediately went.]) My home reno I’m currently avoiding is getting my Christmas tree up. I have managed to get the boxes out of my storage unit to my apartment, and managed to clear a (hopefully) big enough space, but I can only seem to do things in fits and spurts today before either my spoons or my focus give out for a while.

Because I have terrible impulse control, I looked at the family tree despite knowing I’d get spoiled. (But I mean, knowing where it’ll end up doesn’t mean I know how it’ll get there, so.) Since I did that on a break at work yesterday, it meant I got to spend a large chunk of my shift alternating between internally ferally screaming over the continuing SPN saga, and internally ferally screaming over the things I’d managed to guess correctly about future chapters and the things I didn’t see coming at all. Gotta say, it at least helped keep me distracted during a very long, short-staffed shift. Not gonna lie, it took me a minute to figure out the letter code in people’s names. At first I was like, “oh, a middle initial”, then I realized it was the same few letters, and who had what, and felt like an idiot. XD I noticed there wasn’t a (T) in Isaac’s name, and now I’m curious if he stays human, or you just haven’t added that detail yet. (Also, Jesus, I both can’t imagine what Chris and Noah might do to Mr. Lahey, and kinda really want to see some epic smackdown at the same time.) And holy shit, do the boys know the truth about Scott’s parentage? Because if not that is a massive angst bomb about to drop on the three of them (because of everything that happened with Claudia). I feel the need for a drink just thinking about it.

Also, that SPN shit is getting wilder by the day. I think Misha may have put out some sort of video earlier about the reactions and theories, but I haven’t actually watched it to see if it’s shade or towing the party line. I feel very “I don’t really go here, but I did do a semester abroad here and enjoyed it immensely so now I feel unwillingly invested in the outcome” about the whole thing. I also really, REALLY want to scream at my friend who also watches about all of it, but she didn’t see the last few episodes, and is militantly anti-spoiler, so I just have to sit here and quietly vibrate with impatience until she some day sees the ending. (Or someone else spoils it and I don’t have to take the blame. XD )

And I’m really glad you liked the story! I was kinda worried about that one, so I’m glad its gotten so much love. Although it’s also kinda funny to me, because it’s the one that’s most likely to cause thoughts like “oh, I could have phrased that better” or “jesus, I’ve got to stop using that word so often” when I read through it.

So I’ve seen that Doctor Who post you shared, but never that version of it, and I love it because it is completely right about Torchwood, and also leaves out my least favorite character from the summary, who is very much like an older, female version of Scott. Same tendency towards narcissistic arrogance, and irritating self-righteousness. I could rant for days about it (don’t worry, I won’t. XD ) Anyway, I was very amused by the whole thing.

I feel like there were other things (there usually are), but I’ve also just remembered that I had dishes sitting in a sink full of water, and I should really probably check on those. ’>.> Anyway, I hope you’re feeling better, and I look forward to whatever creative outlet you eventually decide on, because it’ll be great either way. (And if my brain lets me focus that long I’ll try to come up with some Noah headcanons for your post!) Take care! *Hugs to you both!*

Sup B? My day went alright I guess? Said new sofa arrived at 9 am and was big enough to completely block the doorway. And bulky enough and the stairs small enough that getting it up the stairs was a matter of trying to wrestle an object of 86 pounds up an area that is smaller than said object, on my own, while I don’t have the strength to lift it above my head. And having a turn in the stairs meant that at some point I had to slip under the couch, got stuck between the couch and the wall and couldn’t get out. Almost called 112 (911 for Dutch people) because I got so stuck it was crushing my ribs but then my phone dropped out of my pocket and I couldn’t reach it.

It was then that I remembered a trick from my days as a tree climber (from when I was a kid and climbed a lot of trees and other places), which was, arms up, tummy in. Though my goddamn boobs got in the way (I seriously want these off and I can’t wait for surgery.) And I slipped free enough to end up on the other end where I proceeded to somewhat lift the couch up enough to eventually get it on the plateau of the hallway. Where I put it on one end and scooted it into my apartment.

But yeah that was an adventure, the couch got lightly damaged in the process and I am hurting all over. But, I succeeded. I was out of commission for the rest of the day though. Didn’t do much beside that. And I didn’t have a pivot! pivot! moment. Mostly because 1. I never really watched friends, and whenever it is on tv I quickly zap to another channel. 2. There was no room to pivot or turn it. This is a small ass stairs in a small ass house in a small ass country XD.

And hey, those are good accomplishments! You got your boxes, check 1, you cleared your space, check 2, you can be proud of that! I’m proud of you. And I’m very curious as to what your Christmas tree is going to look like ^^.

This is making me smile in one of those, hehehehehe gleeful ways only an author can smile in. Making my day here. And I’m glad I could provide that distraction for you. And the letter coding is (H (human), T (turned), W (Werewolf), K (Kitsune), Ban (Banshee), B (Beta, since that is basically the ‘trans’ coding), HH (Hellhound), D (druid) ) And I think that’s all of the coding I’m using right now. I didn’t fully update it yet, I generally do bits and pieces when writing something is not working but I do want to work on OUAT. So Isaac will be turned in the story, I just hadn’t added the T yet. Also not sure what I’ll keep on Chris just yet. Still debating on that one.) Some of the names might also still change. (as in baby boom #2 to keep it easy)

And Mr. Lahey, oh he’s gonna get it. Isaac is just gonna be unofficially adopted into the family even before he ends up with the person he ends up with. (hopefully that’s vague enough for tumblr XD)

Everybody loves Isaac, Kyra, and Lydia. Scott though, well, he needs to grow and convince the people around him, especially the person he ends up with. That’s gonna be something of a road trip too.

And no, neither the young generation or our boys know about Scott’s parentage. Peter has always suspected, but Mel never wanted to confirm it. When Noah learns, when Stiles, Malia and Scott learn.. Shit’s gonna hit the fan again. I already bought an extra bottle of wine to write it.

Yeah man, I can barely keep up with the rollercoaster that is SPN right now. But it’s SO compelling! Omg! I haven’t cared about this show in three years and suddenly it’s all back in my life and I don’t know how to feel. I honestly stopped watching again after they killed off Gabriel for the second time, and never got back into it. Until now. jfc.

I honestly loved it and despite it being 3 am when I read it I can still very clearly recall what happened and still smile. Which is a very good thing! I actually have your first fic open in a tab rn and once my brain wants to cooperate again, I’ll read that too because I honestly just really love your writing. You’re really good at it! Also remind me to rec all of your fics, I think I forgot that last night but I meant to. And sorry for the rambling, despite my day it is once again 2 am XD.

Hope your day has been going well too! I’ve almost finished recording all the needed episodes from Season 1 to start giffing for OUAT and will let you know when I can start posting. Hope your dishes went well too, and let me know if you have any headcanons, would love to hear them <3.

Now I am turning in though, I’m starting to fall asleep. Take care and lots of hugs from me and Mo. <3

#ben says stuff #my convos with anon #B #once upon a time comments #submission

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vaguely-concerned · 7 years ago

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RANDOM OVERWATCH/MCHANZO HEADCANONS

My headcanons are usually global, so to say, so once established they mainly hold true for anything I write in that fandom until canon actively overwrites it (and sometimes even after that if I think the real answer is dumb ha ha). Most of what I’ve already done is the ‘Scoundrels and Thieves’ AU series.

- Shimadamom died during the omnic crisis, since I feel like she would come up a lot more if she was actually around when her sons literally tried to murder each other. (It would also explain why Hanzo shoots the omnic in ‘Dragons’ even as he goes to some lengths to only incapacitate the other guards and why he thinks Numbani sucks, as well as adding a layer of ouch to Genji’s... robo-dysphoria.) Hanzo remembers her better than Genji does, since Genji would have been pretty young at that point.

- Hanzo is a dog person (oh hello there entire alternate wardrobe made up of wolf imagery) and Jesse is a cat person. (Both because of That Scene in The Good, The Bad and The Ugly with the kitten and the hat (!!!!!) and because really he himself is kind of a very affable yet still half-feral tomcat kind of a man)

- In ‘Scoundrels and Thieves’, at least, Jesse started out smoking cigarettes and graduated to cigars as he got older/had more cash, for that Authentic Man With No Name Look. He still goes for cigarettes sometimes when he’s on edge because he finds the little rituals of rolling them comforting. (Hanzo also has a very private Pavlovian reaction to the smell of a certain brand Jesse smoked around the time they started sleeping together. I’ll let you fill in the embarrassing details in your own time.)

- Hanzo usually cuts his own hair - just chops a bit off with a knife or something when it gets too annoying. The first time it was the dramatic symbolic gesture of dishonor ™, but these days it’s just because he can’t be bothered with anything fancier, in the same vein as ‘why even put my shirt on all the way btw did I mention I KILLED MY BROTHER’. (Yes, I know it’s a real traditional archery technique thing, just… let me have this.) Probably also why he wears it up most of the time so you can’t really tell it’s a bit of a catastrophe.

- Jesse taught himself how to play the guitar as a kid and has a wonderful voice for everyday life - it doesn’t belong on a stage but it is perfect for crooning in the background while making dinner or doing chores, stuff like that.

- Jesse is quite ticklish, a fact Hanzo ‘Innate Talent for Strategy and Tactics’ Shimada uses without compunctions when it suits his goals. (His goals usually being a Jesse pink-faced and loose-limbed with laughter)

- Hanzo looks A LOT like his dad but takes after his mum personality-wise - more cynical and closed off except for with their loved ones - while Genji looks more like their mum.

- Jesse’s parents died during the war, quite early on. (tbh this is mostly b/c it breaks my heart to imagine his family would be okay with him having become a notorious killer by the age of seventeen. Like. Bro. I’d rather have someone love and protect him unflinchingly and then having no choice in leaving him. Though if the Deadlock gang had some element of a family business that would mean ANOTHER parallel between them, so if that’s how canon eventually lands I can work with that too ha ha)

- Do you ever think about Jesse at fourteen, coming back from a fight victorious but with new constellations of scars and bruises, curling up somewhere no one’ll find him to watch that scene in For A Fistful of Dollars where the man with no name gets beat up to hell and back and still gets out of it through sheer tenacity and being a tricksy fuck

Because I think about that every day and that’s why I’m constantly on the verge of tears

Anyway not so much a headcanon there as a window into the dark aching corners of my soul let’s carry on

- Jesse is demisexual, Hanzo is gay.

- At first I had settled for Hanzo being bi (what better orientation for a ninja than one that makes you invisible, after all? Who’s bitter you’re bitter) but then there were the White Day lines between Hanzo and Genji and now I’m 100% convinced that he’s gay, if only because it’s so much funnier to me. Let me show my work a bit here:

So as far as I understand, on Valentine’s day in Japan it’s women who give the ~*special men*~ in their life chocolates/gifts. (There’s also an uh ‘tier’ of chocolate that’s completely platonic and is given to friends and coworkers, but from the tone of Genji’s voice I doubt that’s what he’s talking about lol) White day is a month later, and it’s when the men reciprocate the gifts they were given. So essentially what Genji is doing with that line is going “SO… any special GIRLS in your life bro?? *I know you can’t see my face through the visor but you can feel the wink wink nudge nudge through the air*” and Hanzo’s answer is a sort of long-suffering reference to young Genji’s playboy lifestyle as well as a callback to a previous voice line between them, not a slight aimed at any cocoa beans.

Now I like to imagine bb!Genji as a bit of a hilarious dick - like basically sweet and well-meaning, but also hugely spoiled, self-absorbed and easily distracted. It would lend Hanzo’s annoyance so many levels of hilarity if his little brother just… hadn’t realized that the reason he wasn’t dating girls wasn’t just a) he’s been riding a wave of shame, guilt, grief, depression & light alcoholism these last ten years and it’s hard to date with a tight schedule like that, b) he is kind of weird and socially awkward at the best of times, c) his eventual anachronistic weirdo soulmate was running around on the other side of the world doing crazy shit for Overwatch

The reason he’s never dated any girls is that he’s FUCKING GAY

Like it was not as though it was secret, Genji, all you’d have to do was fucking pay attention or hey, ask at any point in the last closing-in-on-forty-years and it would have been EASILY AVAILABLE INFORMATION

FATHER KNEW AND HE NEVER NEEDED TO ASK,GENJI

Anyway I thrive on Hanzo Shimada’s annoyance and consternation because he takes everything so damn seriously and I love him very much

(Obviously in the ‘Scoundrels and Thieves’ ‘verse Genji does know. He’s not THAT massively oblivious.)

- Jesse is mostly ambidextrous but prefers to shoot with his right hand. I think there was some kerfuffle about his holster being put on both sides in official art that prompted this one? I’m not above going ‘*shrug* why have continuity errors when you can have headcanon’

- Shimadadad, intent on his sons not turning into Useless Rich Ninja Kids, made sure they were taught some essential life skills, like cooking and laundry and shit - meaning Hanzo knows how to make a handful of dishes to, like, double Michelin Star levels. He doesn’t actually enjoy it very much, though, so mostly he won’t. Meanwhile Jesse has no outside training whatsoever beyond at one point being shown how to turn on a microwave but figured things out on his own and has pretty good instincts. Hanzo prefers Jesse’s cooking and will happily just do chopping duty (which he’s still proficient at to the point that Jesse’s not sure whether to be unsettled or turned on).

- Jesse learned about horses from an older lady who semi-adopted him after finding him feverish and bleeding in her back garden when he was in his early teens. He stayed on her ranch for a couple of years and then left because he was worried some of the people he’d pissed off would be able to track him down there and burn it all down.

- Hanzo doesn’t like - or really get - giving and receiving gifts as a way to express affection. I’m pretty sure his line of association would go something like gifts ----> money ------> business -----> bribe -----> obligation -------> duty -------> faMILY OH GOD EVERYTHING JUST GOT REAL MESSED UP AND COMPLICATED IN MY HEAD I NEED A DRINK

- Another one where I’ll accept either outcome: I can’t decide from the in-game dialogue if Genji and McCree’s relationship is more bro-like ribbing or if they’re actually a little uh. Adversarial. (“You’re not quicker than a bullet”: a Schröedinger’s playful banter/death threat lol) If they’re mostly friendly that’s great! They can form a harmonious ‘Save Hanzo From Himself’ support group. If they’re more antagonistic? Pure. Fucking. Hilarity. Can you imagine Genji being SO FUCKING MAD because as it turns out the one thing in this world that has ever made his sadsack brother happy is that cocky jingle-jangle bizarro Western cosplay jackass. Like naturally I would prefer it if they were bros but I never turn down comedic potential like that.

- Jesse’s greatest fear has to do with being seen and with leaving. He’s very clearly set up a theatrical, elaborate part of his identity between himself and the world - I don’t think any psychologically unscarred person goes ‘well I’ll just wrap myself in this loner/vigilante archetype until it works for me’ lol. It’s a very smart ‘people are going to look at me so let’s make sure they can’t actually see me’ move. Also it makes me sad that me must have, like, reverse abandonment issues: every time he belongs to something - to the Deadlock gang, to Overwatch, to Hanzo in ‘Scoundrels and Thieves’ - he’s inevitably forced to leave it behind. (I guess this is part of why I love the pairing so much; they’re both wanderers now, they can go together ;____;)

Hanzo’s greatest fear is to really hurt someone he loves again. (Remember that time in Junkenstein’s Revenge where Jack looks at Reaper and goes ‘what could turn a man into this’ and Hanzo immediately answers “To be tested, and to fail”? Because I remember that all the time.)

#overwatch #mchanzo #hanzo #mccree #Perhaps there is still a future for anachronisms #meta #idk it was the only way I managed to do some writing so here we go I guess ha ha #I'm just like... filled to the brim with feels that have nowhere to go #My writing

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suketchilt · 7 years ago

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Can you please give a tutorial on how you draw face shapes, emotions, and bodies? I'm trying to learn, and I would really love to learn from you!!! P.S. I really like your art!!! You're so talented!!!

Hey Anon. O:! Those are… very big, general topics. I can’treally impart, like, all my knowledge on all of that in one post. Tumblr wouldprobably explode, so I’m going to make my answers more general, but stillstupidly long ‘cause that’s how I operate. If you want to ask one or two veryspecific things, maybe I can help a little better. O:! I wrote this based on how my mind works, so don’t be upset if it doesn’t really resonate with how your brain is set up.

I got partway through writing this and realized how scary itlooks so HEADS UP: If you need to learn a LOT, break things into pieces. Youknow how a textbook will have a whole unit that is broken into chapters andthose might be broken into lessons and even those are broken into a few parts?Break things up.

If you need to learn the whole body, you might focus on theface first. If the whole face is too hard, maybe focus on noses, then eyes,then mouths, face shapes, then mapping out proportions, then adding the eyes,noses, and mouths you’ve been practicing to the face shape with proportions.You can break it down even further to only female eyes or only female eyes fromcertain ethnic groups or only nostrils or only nose bridges, etc.

I suggest spending at least a week on each topic you makefor yourself, and spend half an hour each day. If you don’t, no one will getmad at you, but it will take longer because your practice time will be morespread out. You also don’t want to just work seven hours in one day and go, “THAT’SMY WEEK.” Like with homework and school lessons, your body and mind needrepetition to get used to what you’re doing and to truly learn it in a morepermanent way. When you learn stuff well enough, it becomes a reflex and theyou can free your mind to work on other stuff. Remember you had to learn all ofyour letters, and then you had to sound out words, and then you learned harderand harder words and now you can read polylingual stegosaurs devour apatheticangiosperms? Once you feel good about faces, you might move on to other partsof the body, or to practicing colors. What you learn, when you learn it, andhow long it takes you to learn it are all dependent on you. There is no truetime limit. There isn’t even true mastery. Drawing well enough that YOU cannotsee your own mistakes means you are drawing the best you currently can, butthen finding those mistakes and fixing them is your improvement and learning.(At art school, we had to spend 4-8 hours per week in art classes doing artstuff, and then we would have art homework. I did a hand study and drew atleast one hand per week for a year and a half in middle school because I gotbored after half a year of self portraits.)

If you’re having trouble with something, you need topractice it. Consciously. I don’t mean just copying references, I mean tryingto figure them out and making mental notes, or even written notes and your owndiagrams. Like, “Oh, that muscle is only visible over ½ of that body part… I see…”or “OH, that part of the arm gets covered when that part of the hand is in thatposition, so that’s why it looks so weird when it is foreshortened…!” or “Ifsomeone is holding their hand towards you and they are very close to you, thehand looks really big. But if they are far away, the hand almost looksnormal-sized. I could use this to show how close a character is to the viewer,or if I mess this up I might confuse the viewer and they’ll wonder why someonefar away has a giant hand…”

While doing this, you want to look for patterns, like commonproportions that you can memorize. For example, the length of the legs is abouthalf of the whole person’s height. You will also want to see which things are particularto certain scenarios, like how most males won’t have hips as wide compared totheir bodies as most females, or a small child or a little person might havedifferent proportions than an average adult. You can actually look online andfind charts people have made showing proportion patterns they have noticed, andthere are art help Tumblrs you can follow that pass around charts, reference sheets,and studies others have made. (In case you are wondering, my brain has wiremodel mannequins inside with marked proportion points.)

Remember: Not everyone will have the same proportions, sosome will look different, and it is okay to alter them when you make yourcharacters. You want to learn the ‘normal’ stuff, but that doesn’t mean youhave to follow them all the time. It is good to break ‘rules’ in art. Art rulesare guidelines, and many artists have had whole series based on trying to arguerules. Anyway, you may want a characterwho specifically does not follow their sex’s stereotypical traits as much, likea male with big hips, or a tall female with very well-defined muscles, or maybesomeone’s eyes are very far apart, or they’ve got lips so thin you barely seethem. Some of these will be due to what the character does, like a sportyperson will probably have bigger muscles, or someone who eats too much anddoesn’t exercise enough might be fat if they don’t have a metabolism that cankeep up.

You want to point things out, figure out why it ishappening, and see if there is a pattern that you can remember so you can do itlater without needing a reference. The reason you need to consciously pointthings out, is because your subconscious mind doesn’t pick up everything. Haveyou ever driven down the same street over and over and never noticed a small shop,and then found out it’s been there for 20 years? Your brain didn’t see it asimportant, because it was tucked away and you were more interested in a biggerstore nearby. Just like how little kids draw a face and arms, but forget necksand sometimes the rest of the body- the face and limbs are probably the most important parts to them, and their young brains haven’t really memorized the other parts or seen them as necessary to communicate ‘this is a person.’You want to train your brain to look for the small, subtle things, and you willneed to ask yourself questions to get it to start. “Why is that like that? Isthis line smooth, or does it have dents and bumps? Why isn’t it smooth- isthere a muscle there, or maybe a joint or bad scar? Is something nearby havingan effect (like a shadow)? How big is this compared to the other things I havealready drawn/noticed?”

There will be a lot of things that you won’t learn rightaway, because there are a LOT of details. For example, maybe you’ll be drawingsmiles, and you won’t think to check the effect of the muscles involved on therest of the face. The more authentic the smile, the more a person’s eyes willget squinty from the bottom, because the cheeks are raised. If the person isonly smiling half-heartedly (maybe they don’t feel so great, or maybe they’reonly pretending to like what is happening) their eyes might not squint from thebottom as much. They may even be half-lidded from the top if they are beingpolite, but also sort of want the person they are smiling at to know that theyreally aren’t all that interested.

When doing expressions, a lot of artists (including me) willmake the face or imagine ourselves making the face. Some people will also touchtheir own faces while they work to check if there is something subtle they aren’taware of, like a nose crease when they wince. Mirrors help a LOT, especially ifyou don’t have another person to use as a model. When you are checking your ownexpression or the one of a model or reference image, make yourself check everypart of the face. “Have the eyes changed? Is the mouth level, or is part of itup higher than the other? Are the muscles tense in my cheeks? Does my foreheadfeel tense or warm? Are there more creases on my forehead? If I tilted the head,has this affected the neck at all? Is anything in the way, such as if I movethe head, does it hit a shoulder or part of the chest? Does this contact presson anything?” There are a LOT of questions, and it is okay to work on only afew at a time.

For face shapes, you want to think about how round, pointy,boxy, long, and short the face is. The top of the face (like, eyes and above)might have different shapes than the bottom half. The proportions (big foreheadvs small jaw or the other way around) are part of how you can make people moreidentifiable. Knowing what the face is made of (we memorized skull parts incollege and although I remember how to draw it, the only words I remember are ‘ZYGOMATICARCH’) helps you look for specific parts. Like, you know the cheekbones, so howwide are they? Are they up high or lower down? You know the jaw, so how wide isit? How long is it? To be honest, if you use character creators in games, thinkof the sliders. There’s one for jaw length, so what is the jaw length like onthe face you are drawing right now? There is a slider for eye size. How big areyour model’s eyes? Can you measure them compared to other parts of the face? What parts of the face line up? Are the corners of the mouth equal with the pupils? Where do the nostrils line up with the eyes, mouth, and chin?

Face shapes also may reflect or suggest a character’spersonality. A more masculine character will usually have a boxier, moreangular face. A more feminine character will have softer, rounder features. Acharacter with a bigger forehead might be thought to be smarter. A large browridge makes people think the character might be dumb or more instinctive/feral/orat least gruff, because they think of Neanderthals. How clean a character keepsthemselves or certain portions of their face tell about their personality, too.Thin, clean eyebrows probably belong to a feminine character who takes pride intheir appearance. Thick or scruffy eyebrows mean the character is probably moremasculine and/or does not care as much about their appearance. These aregeneralities, of course. You can have a lady with thick eyebrows who views themas a fashion statement, or as a statement against women having to be ‘pretty’by removing all their hair. Or a guy with long, flowing hair could still have asuper masculine personality and mindset. There are stereotypes, but part ofwhat makes characters interesting is when they break the stereotypes. Like, thetough guy who loves tiny dogs and kittens, or the thin teen girl who wants tobe a boxing champion when she grows up.

Analyze stuff you look at. Like, everything I mentionedreminded me of a video or drawing I’ve seen and ‘taken apart,’ or a specific character or a realperson. Look at real people and real expressions and other people’s art and tryto ask yourself questions to help you really see. Take it apart- analyze it. If you can figure out how it works, you can figure out how to put it back together again on your own and in your own way.

I think I’ll stop now, but if there is something morespecific (like a question just about ‘eyes’ or just ‘negative expressions’ or ‘angryfaces’ or ‘arms’) maybe I can help better and draw some stuff. And to think- wehaven’t even discussed the elements and principles of art. >8U!

#Personal #Anonymous

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