#and he's cool and collected. while she giving everything she has to hold herself up and she's still shaking

[misslydian]

This is so brutal man. It already frickin sucks and hurts that someone you cared about and trusted has turned on you in the worst way possible and is out to kill you, but then he also says that being your friend was not only fake but he ENDURED it? It was a BURDEN on him to just pretend to care about you? Fucking hell.

[igotanidea]

We'll make it: Jason Todd x reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI!

So, she got accepted to that one Univerity faculty she wanted to attend since being a teen.

It was a dream come true, except for one tiny detail.

She was leaving.

For 3 years.

A thousand miles away from her boyfiend Jason.

And he never explicitly said it, but his eyes, his face, his entire posture that shifted from relaxed in her presence to terrified at the thought of loosing her, were speaking volumes.

And no matter how much she tried to assure him the two of them will survive it, regardless of the strength she put on for both of their sakes - nothing could ease his worries.

How would he survive without her by his side?

Who would he come back to after patrol to hold and love and snuggle with?

Whose laugh and tears and words and touch and humor and moodiness would fill his days?

But he knew he had to let her go.

It was her dream after all, and who he was to ever stop her from fullfilling it...

Nothing.

Just an outcast, outlaw, vigilante casted away and abandoned even by his own family.

He never deserved her in the first place and it was time to deal with it.

She were too good for him.

But that was never what she thought.

So the last night before the departure, when she was finishing packing her bags and he was keeping his distance, leaning on the doorframe trying to act casual and happy for her?

She couldn't stand it.

She hated the fact that he seemed to just ... give up. Let go of the fight. Surrender.

Red Hood would never surrender.

And Y/N Y/L/N wouldn't either.

"So, are you excited for tomorrow?" he asked with a fake smile

"I'm actually feeling a lot of things at the same time" she sighed heavily zipping her suitcase.

"I think it's pretty normal." Jason shrugged taking a step forward putting her luggage up to make it ready for the morning and that little, somewhat helpful after all, gesture made her mad.

Mad like he has never seen her before.

"What is wrong with you?!" she yelled but all she got in response was a surprised, indifferent look on his face.

"What do you mean?"

"what do I--?" she stuttered, her eyes widening in shock. Was he for real? He didn'd care at all? "WHAT DO I MEAN?!!"

"Stop yelling princess, you're acting crazy."

"CRAZY!? I'm acting crazy to you?!"

"Ok, seriously, what the hell do you want from me!?" he spat back, getting annoyed by her behaviour.

"WHY WON'T YOU FIGHT FOR ME?!"

"Fight for you?" his eyes glistened with rage, but also something more, something she couldn;t quite decipher "you want me to fight for you, huh? Well be careful what you wish for cause if I start doing it--" he gritted his teeth stopping the sentence in the middle.

Y/N took a single look at his face. Narrowed eyes. Pursed lips. And then other telltales. Hard breathing. Rapid chest movements. Clenched fists.

"Jason..."

"FUCK!" he yelled, grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to the kiss that was as intense as if he was trying to swallow her whole. His lips moving against her with the power and stoutess that resebled the fire consuming everything that happened to be on his path. Nothing else mattered in this moment, except for her.

His girlfriend, his lover, his babygirl.

Who just finished collecting her things before flight.

Jason groaned grabbing her waist, squeezing her body in an iron tight grip, her whimpers only spurring him on, making him want more, making him want to tear her clothes off, pin her to bed, take her like an animal, make her stay.

Make her fucking stay.

But he couldn't.

And it made him stop and pull back in shame.

"Jason..." she gasped, feeling the emptiness when he moved away. Her hair were messy, eyes glassy, lips already swollen.

"I'm sorry princess..."

"Oh fuck you todd" she groaned rushing to his arms again, wrapping herself around him like a glove, needing his touch, his love, his lips, hands, everything.

She started the fire in him.

The fire he was trying so hard to contain while withdrawing and keeping his cool.

He wasn't anymore.

She was going away. There was no denying the reality. So if anything he could give her something to remember him by.

To rememeber them by.

"I got a little surprise for you..." she whispered pulling back to the point where he let her. Her hands locked with his, guiding them to the hem of her shirt signalling to pull it up.

And when he did?

The view that came to his eyes counldn't be compared with anything else. The sexiest, the most turning on, cock hardening red lacy lingerie made her look like a goddess.

"Fuck, Y/N." he tore the shirt off completely, tracing over her soft, warm skin, caressing her breasts through the thin lacy material.

"Say it..." she gasped feeling his kisses on her neck, his hands on her ass, pulling her closer.

"I don't want you to go."

"Show me."

"Oh I;m gonna show you."

Her pants were gone in a second, his fingers dipping under the material of her panties, feeling her wetness, going lower, depeer, harder...

"But not like this." Jason grabbed her waist and carried her to the bedroom.

Layed her down.

Kissed her enitre body.

Slowly unclasped all those tiny buckles, untangled all the strings, making sure that she felt each caress, each kiss, each sweet word whispered in her ear.

Moved slowly and tenderly.

Made love to her with so much care and intensity without going rough.

Looking straight into her eyes with each thrust.

We'll make it.

That was the message his gaze was conveing. One simple sentence that never had a chance to leave his mouth.

We'll make it.

"Yes..." she gasped tightening the grip of her legs on his waist, running hands down his back, pulling him closer, and they both knew that she didn't just refer to sex.

We'll make it.

And when the first rays of sun shone on the horizon....

When her lips brushed his forehead till the next time they were going to see each other....

When the doors closed quietly to not stir him awake...

Two hearts were still beating in the same rythm,

We'll make it.

[narabea06]

Nina the Killer Headcanons [Part 2!!!]

Requested by my sibling @horror-oberon-3!! Love you sib!!! /fam

Also, here's part 1 of my Nina hcs!!

TW: Minor Mentions of Abuse + Manipulation

Nina loves using emotes, and most frequently uses ":3" and ":D" the most. She's been trying to get BEN and Toby to try using them too as well, but Toby usually only uses ":(" and the thumbs up emoji.

Nina loves taking photos of her and her friends, and will force Toby and BEN to pose with her to take more twenty photos together every time they hang out.

Nina actually was the one to cut Jeff's hair properly after the incident to give him his emo undercut. Jeff had begged her to fix it for them after seeing how Nina had finally gotten her hair to get how she wanted it.

Nina actually always wears either a onesie or a lacy nightgown to bed, depending on how cold it is. She always prefers to go to bed looking cute then anybody catch her not looking her best.

Her hair is so damaged from bleaching and dying it so much.

She’s a skater girl. She could roller skate, but she mostly has a skateboard she likes to use.

She watched Invader Zim as a kid, and still has a bunch of pins and posters of it.

Nina has lots of stims, mainly ones of her jumping, stomping, humming, patting her knees, and chewing on stuff.

She’s a dog person, and has been trying to get Mary to get one.

She's a great pickpocket, and loves to steal stuff from people. Nina will collect pins, comics, jewelry, bottle tabs, etc, and sometimes she will straight up steal stuff that she thinks are too cool to leave.

She is a BIG Sanrio fan. Chris was too, and his favorite character was Keropi, while hers was Kirumi.

They’re a big sweet tooth. She would rather desserts be something way too sweet, than have any dessert taste bitter. They love chewing gum, but they only like fruity flavored gum. Therefore, she hates dark chocolate and mint flavored food.

She has a locket with a picture of her and Chris that she made.

Despite Chris being Michelle’s favorite, Nina could never hate him, though she was pretty bitter about the situation for a few years.

Nina had a huge crush on Jeff for a bit in highschool after her and Clockwork broke up, which was also how Jeff was also able to manipulate her so easily.

Nina has a tongue piercing that Jane did for her.

She sleepwalks, and has insomnia and night terrors.

Nina knows how to play the guitar because her dad taught her when she was little. She sometimes still plays it for Jane and Mary.

Nina loves Monster High, and her favorite character is Twyla.

Nina hates wearing sweaters since they always feel too itchy for her.

She actually uses a switch blade as a weapon, not a kitchen knife.

Honestly, she is terrified of spiders, like to the point where she will break down at the sight of them. One time she tried to get over the fear by forcing herself to hold a spider she found, only to immediately panic and drop it in her room at Mary’s. She hasn’t been able to find the spider since, and refused to sleep in that room afterwards. Liu, thankfully, agreed to swap rooms with her, but she still refuses to go in there.

Oftentimes, on road trips and car rides, she will fall asleep the second the car starts moving.

Her and EJ get along pretty well although they do not interact much unless Nina is staying at the refuge, or Liu is hanging out with them. She often gossips to him a lot, though he doesn't quite understand.

Her favorite subject in highschool was chemistry, a class which she took with Cody.

Nina always answers the phone, no matter where she is or what she's doing. She will drop everything to make sure somebody doesn't think she's ghosting them.

Nina can play the flute, the guitar, and the trombone.

[y0ukn0wme]

Till War Do Us Part

Capitano x F!Reader (though anyone can read since I don't actually specify readers gender I think and idc who reads)

Warnings : Injured reader, blood, injury, mentions of war, angst, use of pet names, OOC Capitano?, (I think that's everything) Word Count : 864

A/N : This took longer than I thought lmao, I did look over and edit it but there still may be mistakes. I also feel as my writing wasn't as smooth as I wanted it to be. oh well. Enjoy.

Part 2

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 2000 years have passed since the last Archon War, which left devastating effects all across Teyvat and many Gods dead. The Tsaritsa, Cryo Archon of Snezhnaya has long awaited the day when she could finally burn away the old world. With the collection of all Gnosis from the other Archons in her hands, she quickly called to war with Celestia and the remaining Gods. Resulting in another Archon War.

With War, however, comes death, and with death comes soldiers but soldiers need guidance in the face of war. Which is where you step in, General to the 12th Company of the Snezhnayan Military and Wife to Capitano, one of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. You have long since been a well-respected figure within your frigid and glacial homeland, even before you had married your husband who had his own reputation. Your wedding together, albeit short, was one of surprising love to the Soldiers, Harbingers, and the Tsaritsa herself.

While many saw you as a respected General who continually fought for the position you wanted and your husband as a cold and brutal man who had no ounce of love to give, somehow the two of you came together for the first time and fell in love at first sight.

Those days were full of love and warmth to you, never wanting to leave and hoping time would forever freeze. Often while you slept and day-dreamed you would be reminded of your husband as he held you close while you both laid on a long, red chaise lounge chair that sat near a large window that overlooked the wintery nights and snow-covered forest surrounding your home as the fireplace burned, keeping the both of you warm.

Yes, how warm it was in the room…

How warm…

Your eyes parted as you lay on the ground, the sky a dark grey from the war. Your unfocused eyes caught hold of a snowflake slowly floating down before it reached you, laying on your stomach. Straining your eyes to focus on it, you finally realised that it was not a snowflake but ash from the war. A sigh left your mouth as you remembered what had happened to you.

Your eyes drifted to your right side, making note that your left hand was holding it even if it proved to be useless. Your eyes widened a bit at just how much blood there was, you had lost an amount you couldn’t even fathom counting.

So you just laughed, till you began to cough up large amounts of blood, wincing from the pain. At this point, it was safe to say you were covered in your own blood. You were so sore, so tired, so cold…

So cold... Without him…

“Capitano…” You weakly whispered out as your eyes very slowly began to close on themselves.

Like on command, a hand laced in leather caressed your right cheek. “My Flame… worry no more, I am by your side once again.”

Your eyes drifted towards the familiar voice you knew and once they laid upon the face that was hidden behind the cool steel you often saw, tears pricked the corners of your eyes. A wave of warmth and ease washed over your body. You were no longer alone in the cold wasteland.

Capitano lowered himself, slightly lifting his helm before he placed a long, passionate kiss against your temple. “It was so cold without you..” You said with a meek voice. Your left hand that was holding your wound stalked up towards his face, landing on his helm. Blood smeared across the steel but your husband did not care for all that was on his mind was you.

“Speak no more, my flame. Conserve the little energy you still have left and let me take care of you.” Capitano shifted his arms beneath you slowly so he wasn’t too rough with moving you. Lifting you up in a bridal style that felt no different from lifting a feather, albeit he did have inhuman strength.

A few groans of pain left your mouth as he picked you up, trying not to worry him any more than you already had. You focused your attention back on him, trailing your hand down from his helm to his neck, your blood trailing behind.

“Leave me here my love.” You spoke softly as the colour from your face was draining quickly. “I will simply burden you.” Capitano held you closer, never taking his eyes off of you. “I would do anything for you, my dove. But leaving is something I am not capable of, for you are my wife, the one I love, and my equal.” 

The two of you turned away from the battlefield as he carried you away. His and your soldiers bending to their knees in respect and mourning for the two of you. They held that position until the flaky ash and hurling snow covered both of your figures. 

It was colder than ever that day, yet it felt so warm to be in his embrace. It was all you could think about even as your hand fell back down to your stomach.

Oh, how warm…

[amberstormblade]

Hey! Here's part two for that TMSP fic I wrote earlier! I'll leave a link to part one here in a sec! Enjoy! :3

Edit: Here's Part One!

Ruby’s day had been going quite well! He was feeling a lot better and was finally able to get out of bed. Although he was still a bit achy, getting to just walk around with Vintage made everything worth it. Some of the other members of their little town even joined in, it seemed like only Viking was missing. It wasn’t until Vintage had mentioned that they needed some materials for a build they were working on that things went wrong.

Climbing down through the cactus farm left the little group scrambling to adjust after coming from the late afternoon sun and soon they were all stumbling their way over to the chests lining the wall when Box spoke up. 

“Do ya hear that? Mighty strange noises ya got down here.” He looked around as if trying to locate it but not immediately seeing anything. 

“What do you mean? I don’t-” Ruby started but they were quickly cut off by Vintage

“It sounds like… crying, almost. It’s faint, but I can definitely hear it.”

Ruby looked at Jay but he just shrugged, unable to hear anything either.

“Yeah! Maybe one of our neighbors is in a bit of trouble! Let’s go check it out.” Without waiting for an answer, Box ran over to the tunnel leading to the clock tower. The rest of them followed after, the sound getting louder as they approached. While the other three were distracted by the massive tower hanging from the ceiling, Ruby’s eyes locked onto something at the bottom of the cavern. The blue and yellow mass was shaking next to a pool at the bottom, tears in his clothes showing that he had most likely fallen down the side of the cavern at some point. He seemed to be weakly gripping his head, fingers tangled in his wild mess of hair, showing that this had been going on for a while. 

“Viking!” His name tore itself from her lips as Ruby saw her closest friend fall limp. Jay had to hold her back from practically throwing herself down the pit and instead, they all carefully rushed down the stairs haphazardly carved into the wall. Running over, Ruby collapsed next to Viking, his knees practically giving out as he rushed to make sure he was even still breathing. When that other person had told him to make sure Viking didn’t kill anyone, Ruby never imagined Viking himself would have to be put on that list. 

Placing a hand on his forehead, Ruby gasped. “He’s burning up! Ca-can you guys help me get him back to the surface? I don’t think being down here is any good for him. “

Box immediately scooped him up like he was nothing while Jay and Vintage helped Ruby back to his feet. Together, the group made their way to the surface, material collecting forgotten for the moment, and towards Ruby’s house as it was close and didn’t have a bed on the roof. No one really knew why he thought that was a good idea. Box placed him on Ruby’s bed and then took a step back as she sat down next to him. He was pale, dark circles under his eyes making it clear he hadn’t been sleeping well. His eyes were scrunched tight and his breath came out in short pants. It was clear that he wasn’t doing well.

After looking him over, Ruby spoke. “I-I didn’t realize, I mean- He seemed tired yesterday but not like this!? I need-” 

Vintage cut them off, “What you need to do is take a deep breath, and know that we’re here to help. What do you need us to do?”

“Okay, okay um- Jay, can you go to Viking’s house and see if he has any extra potions? I kinda burned through all of mine.” Jay nodded and dashed out the door. “Box, can you um-um-um oh! We should make some fresh soup! Can you help gather some ingredients for it! Lots of fresh veggies! And Vintage, you can help me make it! We can start prepping the broth!” Soon, everyone was working, doing their best to help out their fallen neighbor. A cool cloth had been placed on his forehead and the two in the house kept throwing glances at him but he never seemed to change. Box returned first and the soup was well underway when Jay came back. 

“Alright, so, I got the potions, actually had to brew up some more because he was running low but, it seems like he’s already taken a lot of them? There were empty bottles all over his house, it’s actually a bit concerning.” Jay gives a nervous laugh, not sure what to do with this information. 

Everyone seems to pause at this. If Viking had been using potions to combat whatever this was and they hadn’t worked then that was bad news. Any number of things could be happening to him and even Viking himself might not know what it is. Before anyone could speak, however, a groan suddenly came from the direction of the bed. All heads whipped towards the source as Viking started to shift, hands coming up to clutch his head. He started to violently shake as tears began pouring down his face. He started moving around so much that he almost fell off the bed, only stopped by Box jumping into action. The two were now on the ground with Box holding him up. 

“Hey there! Don’t be doing tha-“ Box cut himself off as he got a good look at Viking’s face. “Oh… now that’s- that doesn’t look quite right.” A twinge of concern leaked into his voice. “Eyes don’t normally change quite like that.” 

At this point, everyone rushed over to try and see what he was talking about. Viking’s eyes were wide and unseeing, almost as if someone was forcing them open. They kept darting around as if searching for something but never latching on to anything. The most worrying part was the color. His usually yellow eye seemed to almost be flickering, looking a bright green at times while the blue one seemed to have the same color slowly pulsing around the pupil. All the while, he was gripping his head tight enough that they all worried he was going to tear out chunks of his hair. 

His eyes caught onto Ruby. They reverted to normal for a split second and then went back to their strange and colorful battle as things seemed to get worse. He started whimpering through gritted teeth and thrashing around as much as he could. It almost looked like he was fighting with himself, and losing. Box had given up on trying to hold him still at this point and was just staring in shock along with the others. Ruby did her best to approach, trying not to get hit by his spastic movements.

“Viking?” their voice shook seeing him like this, but they pushed on. “Hey, I don’t know if you can hear me but I think I know what’s going on? Well, maybe not know but I have a guess? You- you need to sleep Viking, do you understand? Just- it would be for the best if you just went to sleep.” At this, he seemed to panic, frantically trying to put space between himself and Ruby while trying to cover his head. He tried to say something but his voice was still shot, the only noise coming out was a hoarse rasping thing. Upon trying to stand he slipped, slamming his head on a nearby barrel as he fell. “Oh gosh! Is he dead?” Shrieked Jay as Viking landed with a sickening thwack back on the floor. The poor farmer seemed stuck between rushing over to the body and backing away as quickly as possible, keeping him rooted to his spot. Vintage started making her way over to him but stopped when he dazedly sat back up. 

He rubbed the back of his head and groaned as he shakily got to his feet, eyes pinched shut. He then sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as tiredly opened his eyes. It was then that everyone noticed this was no longer Viking. A green eyed stranger stood in his place, a handful of signs at the ready for any questions that would be thrown at him.

[fandomsnstuff]

Consider: twosun didn't have snow. Anywhere. At all. They didn't even have a concept of it. They don't know what it is. Anyway, it's day 26 of @taznovembercelebration and im a canadian who tried to write people who've never seen snow before

Day 26: wonder

The IPRE crew is very happy that their plan worked and they've successfully hidden from the Hunger. What they didn't plan for, was how cold Faerun could get and the not-rain falling from the sky.

Read it on AO3

After they deploy the relics in what they hope to be the final cycle, the IPRE crew waits with bated breath for the Hunger. But the scouts never come. Days pass, then weeks, then months, and the sky never darkens unnaturally, revealing countless white eyes opening up to find them.

As those months pass, they find that the days shorten and the air cools. As people built for a world with two suns, this poses a bit of a problem. Sure, they spent certain cycles in colder and darker climates, but that doesn't mean they enjoyed it. One year just isn't enough time to adapt to that. So they make do. Sweaters and blankets are plentiful, and when the cold gets bad enough that the ship's heating system can't seem to break through it, they all pile up in the living room. Body heat is crucial for survival. Not to mention that Magnus is simply a furnace of a man.

He's the one who seems to be able to function the best. He has to wear a shirt (or a few), much to his chagrin, but he still gets up every morning and dutifully goes for a run.

One morning, he extracts himself from the pile of bodies on top of him, and everyone shuffles in to fill the space he left. He's barely gone for a few minutes when he comes back and excitedly says, “guys, get up! You gotta see this!”

There are some grumblings about having to leave the nice warm sleep pile to go to the cold outdoors, but they comply. When they get outside, though, the grumblings stop as they all stand in awed silence.

Davenport had landed the cloaked ship in a field just outside a nearby town. That town, the field, and everything else, is now coated in a thick layer of white… stuff. And small bits of it fall from the sky. Magnus runs out onto it, and it crunches under his feet, leaving footprints behind. He turns back to them and holds his arms out, “isn't it great?!”

“It's beautiful,” Lucretia says. The sun peeks through the soft grey clouds and it sparkles. She breathes out, “woah.”

Lup steps out into it and holds out her hand. Some of the little bits land on her hand, and stay there a moment before melting away. She crouches and scoops some up off the ground, crushing it in her hand. Some falls back to the ground and some melts away. She wipes her hand off on her pants. “It's like the cold sand from, what was it? 45?”

“42,” Lucretia says, “but I don't remember it falling from the sky. Or melting.” She holds her hand out too, and watches the bits melt. “It's water.”

“So it's raining ice,” Taako pulls his obscene amount of blankets tighter around himself, “peachy.”

“I don't think it's ice,” Barry says, “this isn't one solid piece.” He examines the bits that have collected on the sleeve of his sweater, “it's like it's crystallised.”

“Maybe I can go into town and talk to someone,” Magnus says, “they'll probably know what's up with this. Maybe we can get some better gear, because I don't know about you guys, but my shoes and socks got wet the moment I stepped out here.”

“I'll go with you,” Lucretia says, “just give me two minutes to put real clothes on.”

Not long after, they're crossing the field together.

“You weren't kidding about the wet shoes,” she says.

“I even changed my socks while you were getting dressed and put on different shoes, and my feet are still wet.”

“Well Taako promised us soup when we got back, so I think that'll keep me–” she cuts herself off with a yelp as her feet hit harder ground and fly out from under her. Magnus catches her before she cracks her head open on the cobblestone. “Now that,” she says, getting back on her feet, “is ice.”

“No kidding,” Magnus links her arm in his and they make their way (carefully) into the streets, “the last thing we want to do is lose you when we've only just begun the rest of our lives.”

She squeezes his arm. “We won't be perpetually in our early 20s anymore.”

“I'll finally be able to fully develop my frontal cortex.”

All through town, there are children playing in the cold snow, and people walking briskly down the street. Lucretia and Magnus are wearing the most layers out of anyone. Lucretia spots a café on the opposite side of the street. “Let's go in there,” she says, nodding in its direction, “the air out here is making my face hurt.”

They cross the street as quickly as they dare, and sigh with relief as the warmth of the indoors and the smell of fresh baked goods hits them. They walk up to the counter, where a young woman is placing a tray of croissants into the display.

“Awfully cold out there,” Magnus says, turning on his rustic charm.

The woman looks up at them, amused. “Newcomers?”

“You could say that.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “Trust me, if you think this is cold, you haven't seen anything yet.”

Both of their faces drop. “It gets worse?” Lucretia asks.

“Oh, yeah.” She gestures to the window, “you actually can't get snow if it's too cold. That's when you get freezing rain and everything's covered in a layer of ice.”

They both just stare at her, dumbfounded. Their home plane had nothing like this. It didn't get this cold, and it certainly didn't have “snow” and rain that covered everything in ice. The young woman smiles pleasantly, “so what can I get you?”

They glance at each other. Magnus says, “directions to somewhere warmer, maybe?”

[claudeng80]

Inscrutable as a Shadow (High School AU/Animorphs AU 2)

“You know I can’t be gone more than two hours, and it shouldn’t take even that long. I’ll be back by fifth period. It’s just P.E. and lunch, no big deal, right?”

Obi knows he can’t say no when Zen begs, but for the sake of his pride he has to at least put up a token resistance. “I’ll miss history.” It seemed like a better argument before he said it out loud. What’s one absence from a class he sleeps through anyway?

“But you get to eat my lunch.” Zen waves the box in front of Obi like he can see the contents, but he doesn’t have to see a thing for it to weaken his resolve. Mrs. Zakura makes sandwiches Obi’s never imagined before, and every one of them is a delight. Obi’s stomach growls just imagining it.

“You have to be careful. I don’t want to have to be the one to tell Shirayuki something happened to you.”

Zen waves it off. “It’ll be fine.” He holds out his hand. “I’m counting on you,” he adds, and Obi gives in as he always knew he would. Zen’s breathing slows as Obi lays his hand on his arm, the calm that always comes over as a subject as one learns a morph.

And then he knows everything he needs. “This is going to be so weird, man,” he says, and with a deep breath he concentrates.

It has to be strange to watch. Zen’s eyes are wide watching him change, the shift so much quicker from human to human. He doesn’t have to curve his spine or grow feathers, just drop a couple of inches and go blonde. For a moment there are two Zens in the bathroom mirror, one scowling, one grinning.

<Does this work?> Obi asks, and Zen’s grin widens even further. 

“It sure does,” he answers out loud. “This is great.” And Obi would be lying if he wasn’t tempted to raise his math grade a bit by having Zen go take the midterm for him, but that’s a negotiation for later. Zen hands over his backpack, and with no further discussion he closes his eyes and starts his own morph.

Obi looks away. He never likes watching faces turn to beaks and feathers sprout from skin. It looks even worse than it feels. He doesn’t look back until Zen squawks, a whirring of feathers ending with a red-winged blackbird perched on his shoulder. Zen’s claws are sharp. Obi walks him to the window, tipping the glass pane out to let the bird go. <Meet you back here after lunch. Don’t be late,> he insists.

<Yes, mom,> Zen says, and he’s gone.

***

Obi’s banged up and sore when he gets to lunch, but more than anything he’s irritated. P.E. has always been his best subject, and it’s not like Zen isn’t athletic in his own right, but he hasn’t been this short in a while. It throws off his perception.

The door whacks him in the arm on the way in, because of course Zen and Shirayuki are buddy-buddy with the chem teacher and can’t just eat outside like all the normal students. Everybody in the room turns to stare, and for a moment Obi freezes. When he’s a dog or a mouse or whatever, he’s got instincts and reflexes. But there’s no muscle memory for being Zen.

It doesn’t help that his arm’s throbbing, too, the new bruise from the door just adding to the collection track and field gave him. Zen’s going to have some real questions to answer next week when he’s making up all the events Obi wiped out on.

“Zen!” Shirayuki runs up to him, hands right on his arm around the scrapes. “What happened to you?”

“Tripped on the hurdles,” he says, trying to sound as casual as a prince of the school should. Obi would prefer theatrics, but that would be a little too suspicious. <Apparently the pale imitation is not as graceful as the original,> he adds, silently so she knows who’s she’s got her hands on before she embarrasses herself. He’s trying very hard to be a good boy.

Nobody has ever accused Shirayuki of being a good actor. She does jerk to a halt, mouthing his name when she’s made eye contact. As if there were any question. It should be obvious enough by process of elimination alone; Mitsuhide has zero cool whatsoever and Zen would not trust Kiki with his body for anything short of a life or death situation. He nods, and because he can, he leans in close and whispers in her ear. “He thinks that policeman he was worried about goes somewhere in the middle of the day. He’s checking up on him.”

She’s not thrilled with the idea, he can tell from her face journey alone. It settles into a frown he’s never seen her give Zen before. “Well, come eat lunch. We can get that scrape cleaned up at the sink.”

***

The others think they can’t hear them.

“Oo, trouble in paradise!”

Shirayuki knows exactly where to find the first-aid kit, and that concerns him a bit. She does have a delicate touch with the alcohol wipes, and the scrape already feels better without quite so much track grit in it. Thankfully it’s mostly skin he lost and not so much blood, so if Zen wears long sleeves tomorrow they’re not going to have to bandage him up to match.

“Maybe they’re fighting.”

Shirayuki eyes the band-aids in the kit, none of them even close to big enough to cover the largest patch of road rash. Obi shakes his head and blond hair falls in his eyes. Apparently Zen’s little hair-clearing head-flip that makes all his groupies sigh does not come with the DNA either.

“We all knew he’d get tired of her.”

Obi clenches his jaw. Shirayuki slams the first-aid kit a little harder than she usually would, and they both pull out their lunchboxes. It’s hard to be enthusiastic about even heavenly sandwiches when he can’t help but feel like he’s torpedoing his best friends’ relationship. He’s no match for Zen. He always knew that.

“Yeah, usually he’s all over her by now, but he hasn’t touched her once.”

Obi’s hands shake just thinking about it. He’s gotten very good at not wanting, at not thinking about her. They’re friends. That’s important. And she loves Zen.

Sitting here in Zen’s skin is a temptation he should never have to endure.

He pulls a slice of strawberry out of the lunchbox and holds it out. <Here.> he says.

Shirayuki looks at him like he’s got a spider on his face. Of course if Zen were to do this, it would be an elegant motion. She’d understand right away, and it would be sweet and endearing. <The strawberry. It’s for you.>

“You should eat that,” she whispers. “You had P.E. today and you’re always hungry.”

She’s not wrong, but she’s missing the point. He checks the clock again; there’s only a few minutes left until time to go meet Zen. He’s got to do something, and the strawberry snack still hanging out there in midair is not it. He’s just pulling it back- she does have his number, of course he’s hungry- when her fingers close around his wrist. She leans in and delicately takes the strawberry with her teeth.

Obi doesn’t breathe. Too many pairs of eyes watch them; he can feel every single one on the back of his neck.

He knows exactly what Zen would do now.

He really shouldn’t do it. Shirayuki looks at him with those big green eyes, and even the way she chews is cute. Maybe it comes with the DNA, the need to lean in and kiss her. If Zen’s body does it, does it matter that it’s Obi inside? <I don’t know what else to do,> he says. His hand reaches out, slow enough that she can stop him at any time, and rests against her cheek. It’s as soft as it’s always looked.

He leans across the desk. She doesn’t pull away. No, she leans in and meets him the last few inches, soft and chaste and sweet as the strawberry he can smell on her breath. And she lingers, a slow breath until she pulls back and her eyelids flutter open. It’s the nicest kiss Obi’s ever had, and it’s not even his.

“I should go.” The words drag out of him with an effort. He should be more forgiving of Zen; the fact he gets anything done through this haze of sweetness is a miracle.

“Don’t be late to class,” she says. There’s a look on her face that’s not quite normal, and if he had leisure to study he would figure it all out, but there’s no time. “And finish your lunch.”

“See you soon,” he says. He does remember to grab the right backpack, and if he’s floating through the halls to the meeting point with a lovesick grin on his face, that’s no different than Zen looks most days. Nobody will ever notice the difference.

[alittlextrathatway]

I got a prompt request from Sand86802 on twitter. Obviously, she doesn’t have a tumblr so she couldn’t send me an ask. But I’m gonna post it here anyway. Thought I’d go high school AU for this one. I’m sure you’ll get why when you see the prompt lol.

Hope you all enjoy it!

***

Prompt:

“Hopin’ one of those senior boys will wink at you and say, “you know I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Fifteen” by Taylor Swift

+

Location: homeroom

***

Relocating to Chicago was not her choice.

Her dad sold the farm and, with it, their home. Working a family farm just wasn’t turning a profit and they had two kids who would want to go to college eventually. So, her dad got a job at a greenhouse in Chicago where he could still tend to plants, just not vegetables and not at his own expense.

Did she want to leave Fowlerton? No. But does she understand why they had to? Yes. And now that she’s here, she’s determined to make the best of it.

When she arrives at school, the guidance counselor introduces her to her tour guide for the day. Sylvie expected someone from her own class. Maybe an overachieving Junior like herself. But instead she meets Gabby Dawson, a drop dead gorgeous senior who seems cooler and more enigmatic than Sylvie could ever dream of being.

Gabby walks her to her homeroom and points across the hall once Sylvie stands just over the threshold. “I’m over there,” she says. “Most seniors are in home rooms across the hall actually. If you need me after the bell rings just wait for me by the door. Okay?”

“Yes!” She says, sounding far too eager. But, goodness, she’d love to be friends with Gabby. She’s a city girl that seems prepared for everything — cool, calm, collected. Sylvie is none of those things. Gabby grins, failing to hide her amusement, as Sylvie tries to tone herself down. “I mean…cool. Thanks.”

“Hey, Dawson, you got a sec?”

Both girls turn to face a dark blonde, blue eyed boy in jeans and a plaid button down the same shade as his eyes. Sylvie feels her throat go dry as she swallows thickly. He’s the cutest boy she’s ever seen.

“Yeah, I’m just making sure Sylvie knows how to get around.”

Matt’s eyes shift over to her, as if he just noticed her presence. She doesn’t expect much of a reaction. Not when someone like Gabby is standing next to her. But his eyes flash with interest and the corner of his mouth quirks, creating a barely there crooked smile. “I’m assuming you’re Sylvie.”

“Oh! Yes! Hi!” She replies, sticking out her hand for a shake. “Sylvie Brett. I’m new.”

“You don’t say?” He asks, his crooked smile threatens to bloom further. She hopes it doesn’t because she’s not sure she would survive one his full smiles. “I figured since I haven’t seen you around before.” He accepts her handshake as he introduces himself. “Matt Casey.”

Matt Casey. That’s a good strong name. She has a feeling it’s going to be decorating the inside of her notebooks pretty soon. (Should she buy new gel pens to represent her new crush?) Matt is adorable.

“Sylvie’s family just moved here from Indiana,” Gabby tells him, eyebrows raising with some sort of secret meaning. “She grew up on a farm.”

“Huh. That’s new. Must be a bit of a weird adjustment moving to the city.” It’s a declarative statement but his solemn face and attentive eyes make it feel like a question.

“It’s definitely different,” she admits. “Especially because right now my family’s crammed into a two bedroom apartment while we try to find a more permanent place. It’s been…chaotic.”

“I’m sure,” he says, holding her stare and nodding as if he’s giving every word she says equal weight and consideration.

He looks as though he has more he wants to say, more questions for her to answer, but Gabby interrupts.

“The bell’s about to ring. We should get to our homeroom. Plus, we’re kinda blocking Mr. McHolland’s doorway. And didn’t you need to ask me something?”

“Oh, yeah, I just needed to borrow some notes,” he says, waving his hand as if to physically brush the issue away. He focuses his attention on Sylvie again. “You’re joining us for lunch later, right?”

“Me?” She asks meekly.

“Sure, I mean you don’t know anyone else right now. We’re not gonna let you eat alone. Right, Dawson?” Matt asks her, eyes narrowing pointedly.

“I mean, sure, yeah, ordinarily,” Gabby agrees. “But today is Portillo’s day and I’m not sure there’s enough room in Severide’s car.”

Matt’s expression pinches in confusion, visually rejecting Gabby’s concerns as if they’re ridiculous. “Then I’ll drive her. I don’t like cramming in his mustang anyway. I mean, if that’s okay with Sylvie?” He asks, lifting one eyebrow at her in question.

“Are you kidding?” She asks earnestly. “Lunch out with you two or walking through the cafeteria trying to navigate lunchroom cliques? This is a no brainer.” She’s probably coming on too strong. Gabby’s cringing faintly, clearly she thinks so. But Sylvie can’t bring herself to care. She was terrified of her first day and Matt is already making it easier. “I’d love to.”

“Cool,” Matt replies, showing her that full smile she feared earlier. She was right. She’s not going to survive it. He’s handsome without it but with the smile he glows. She can’t take her eyes off of him. “I should, um, get to my homeroom.” He points over his shoulder and takes a couple of steps backward. “But I’ll meet you right back here for lunch?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be here, don't worry,” she assures him.

He nods and claps once, awkwardly bobbing his head. “Great, perfect. Can’t wait.”

He takes one more backward step and bumps into a group of kids, nearly knocking one boy down. Sylvie giggles softly as he apologizes through a wince. He waves at her one last time, completely forgetting to say goodbye to Gabby. Sylvie waves back, biting her bottom lip.

Not even here a full day and she already sort of has a date.

Maybe Chicago won’t be so bad, afterall.

[misiwrites]

Mayblade Day 7

[previous: chapter 1 & 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6]

CHAPTER 7 prompt: duty characters: hiromi, salima, emily, kane, takao, mao, rei, max pairings: hiromi/takao, implied kane/salima

Something was off about Salima. Despite the novelty of their friendship, Hiromi could tell.

To begin with, the fact that she’d been coming to class separately from Kane for a week was unusual in the inseparable duo’s standards. At first, Hiromi had thought that perhaps her responsibilities in the council had increased, her schedule no longer accommodating doing everything in tandem with him, and while the former was certainly true with the approaching bake sale and all, they no longer did anything together in class either. And Salima, who was so cool and collected and kind, was suddenly sulky, quiet, and miserable like an abandoned puppy.

Hiromi was surprised when even Emily had no specifics to provide about the situation between Kane and Salima. Apparently Salima was above the gossip mill’s reach; everyone respected her too much to drag her into it. “But they’ve obviously had a fight or something,” Emily concluded.

This all was why, when Salima once again slipped in a request for Hiromi to come see the kendo club’s practice, she finally agreed. If someone new checking out the club would help cheer her up even a little, Hiromi didn’t mind doing it. She’d go with Salima after school.

“Honestly, I would have skipped today otherwise,” Salima admitted, sitting on Hiromi’s desk while they waited for the English class to begin. “The council has so much work right now, and there’s only eight of us.”

“One from each class, right? Who’s in the council from 1-B, anyway?”

“That’s Johnny McGregor. Short guy with maroon hair and band shirts.” Salima added the latter at the sight of Hiromi’s nondescript face.

“The one who always looks angry?”

“That’s the one. Though he’s oddly polite for someone so bad-tempered.”

Hiromi hummed in amusement. “I wonder how someone like him got in when there’s people like Mao, Professor and Max in that class.”

“Not many people applying to join the council, I think. None of those ran for a seat.”

“Really?” Perhaps this shouldn’t have surprised Hiromi as much as it did; Bey Town High wasn’t a big school, so while the council was small, so was the pool of students to choose members from. She shifted her legs nervously, crossing one over the other under the desk to keep her feet from fidgeting. “I, uh, actually kind of wanted to run for a seat… I was a member of my middle school’s council. Well, truthfully, I was the president for a bit.” It was the first time she’d told this to anyone in Bey High.

Salima’s grey eyes widened with surprise. “You were? Why didn’t you run for a seat here, then?”

Hiromi looked down at a pencil in her hand. “I only lasted one year in the council… Let’s just say I wasn’t very popular after getting in.”

For the first couple of months, things had gone well in her old school. Many of her previous friends had migrated into her class and she’d also made new ones. She’d been elected to the student council because she was known to be smart and mature. She’d been so proud of her achievements, and vocal about them too.

But girls in middle school turned out to be a petty, jealous species. Back then, Hiromi hadn’t had the common sense to censor her personality and hold back on impulsive behavior; the position of a student council president had brought out her bossy tendencies at full force. She hadn’t realized how bad it was herself, and nobody had bothered giving her kind, constructive criticism about it. From her perspective, she’d only done what was expected of her and acted accordingly. Been a leader. Before long, she’d earned the reputation of a nagger, a nitpicking bitch – or, more accurately due to her unusual hobbies that everyone loved to consequently pick on, a witch. Associating with her had become a burden to her friends.

“I think you’d do great. You should run next year,” Salima said.

“I’ll think about it…” But Hiromi knew she wouldn’t, not ever again.

“How about the bake sale? Would you like to participate? We need a vendor for our class booth and nobody has volunteered yet. Or, well, one did but I’d rather have some variety.”

Hiromi raised her chin. “The vendors can be someone other than the student representative?”

“Not just that, but I can’t be the one doing it. But I do need to coordinate who’s participating from 1-A.”

“In that case, I’d be glad to do it!”

“Great! You’ll be perfect for it!” Salima whipped out her phone. “Thank you, Hiromi. I’ll add you to the mailing list right away.”

A pleasant warmth set in Hiromi’s heart for the rest of the day.

…Or at least for the remaining classes, for she managed to happily forget for a moment that she’d just promised to go to the kendo club afterwards. She positively froze when Salima was again by her desk at the last bell in the afternoon.

“Ah… yes.” Hiromi slowly swept her belongings into her backpack, side-eyeing the two boys with blue hair already taking their leave together. And just as she did, she caught Kane throwing a wistful glance in Salima’s direction over his shoulder before disappearing through the doorway. Wow. Drama. There really was something going on between those two.

Hiromi was, however, confident to stay out of any drama as she rose from her seat and mentally prepared herself to follow Salima to the gym. She was only here to cheer a friend up, nothing more.

They used the second gym entrance, on the opposite side from the one Hiromi had entered before when visiting the wushu club. The gym was partitioned in the middle to supply enough space for two or more clubs to operate simultaneously, and today she was on the kendo club side. While Salima dropped by the changing rooms, Hiromi remained by the doors, not daring to enter without her.

As much as she’d tried to prepare herself, decided that she’d do this for Salima’s sake, now her heart was beginning its mad gallop over nothing again. She could hear Takao and Kane entering the gym from their respective changing room and getting started. She took a small, deliberate peek from behind the gym doors, making sure to stay hidden while at it.

The boys were dressed in dark hakama, bamboo swords in hand, helmets waiting under their arms. They chattered away while waiting for the rest of the members to arrive.

…It suits him so well. The last time Hiromi had seen Takao in the traditional outfit, they had both been the size of a fire extinguisher and Hiromi had found the baggy clothes with big, sloppy sleeves hilarious for whatever childish reason. Now it looked surprisingly refined on him. Not to mention, this was apparently the only occasion he respected enough to take that stupid red-and-blue cap off. His hair was loose for once. It had grown surprisingly long…

When Salima was ready, she came to fetch Hiromi from the door. Told her that she could join the ceremony if she wanted. Hiromi wished Salima hadn’t come for her – or, well, she did want to join because the ritualistic aspect of the ceremony was fascinating to her and all, but at the same time – her step felt dangerously wobbly as she followed Salima into the gym and could feel all the eyes land on her simultaneously. Salima briskly informed them that Hiromi was there to check the club out and would pair up with her today, end of story.

Hiromi had thought she could follow the practice session by sitting apart from the rest and continue avoiding looking at Takao, as usual. What she hadn’t expected was that Takao was, in fact, the club captain. He was the ringleader of this gathering, the one teaching and motivating the rest; in the short opening ceremony (a bit excessive for a ten-member club, but it did set the mood right from the beginning), he gave a brief but inspirational speech about why they were there that day and how important it was to never lose the spark of self-improvement. The rest, Hiromi included, stood listening in a diligent row and bowed their heads at his brisk command.

It's not like Hiromi hadn’t known that Takao was good – he had to be, given that he’d been doing kendo ever since they were friends. But the level of expertise he displayed while going around helping the club members, fixing their postures and guiding their arms to his best ability, came as a complete surprise to her. He was so… well… mature. In Hiromi’s memory, Takao was a bratty little rascal, always getting himself into ridiculous situations and testing the boundaries of his parents and older brother on purpose; in class, too, the Takao she’d been spying on— er, pretending not to spy on was restless, noisy, spontaneous and a lazy student. But here, in this space, he was someone else entirely. He was, she had to admit, kind of impressive.

By the time the club members began their gradual retreat into the changing rooms, Hiromi’s head was spinning. She got out of the gym the same way she came in and figured it would be polite to wait for Salima. She needed a moment to clear her head, anyway. She leaned against the wall in the corridor outside and stared up at the bleak fluorescent lamp in the ceiling.

Had this been a mistake? Or a good idea? She felt a buzz in her chest that hadn’t been there before, a sort of… excitement, she guessed. One she hadn’t asked for. And neither had she asked for the burning sensation in each spot on her skin that Takao had lightly touched during the practice while helping her fix her posture.

As if Takao hadn’t already been in her mind enough. On and off, every day. She had a feeling that things had just gotten several times more bothersome because of a sport fought with bamboo swords.

The door to the boys’ changing room opened and Hiromi’s heart squeezed with panic for the fracture of a second, until she realized it wasn’t Takao who came out. It was the wushu club members – well, two of them, Mao and the boy with the long, purple hair.

“Seriously, you can’t do this anymore,” the boy told her as the heavy door slammed shut behind them. “Have some respect for the newer members.”

“Bleh, I bet they’re just happy! Bet they haven’t seen a woman in her underwear even once in their lives.”

“Mao…”

“Rei-nii. Oh, hi Hiromi!” She waved at her across the corridor. The boy cast Hiromi a wary look, almost scared.

Hiromi raised a hand in reply. Rei-nii?

But she had no time to grasp this thought further as the door to the girls’ side opened and Salima materialized into the corridor. She immediately wanted to know how Hiromi had liked kendo and was of the firm opinion that the sport suited her very well. Hiromi gave absent responses in the vein of yeah, sure, it was nice, all the while distractedly eyeing the pink-and-purple pair who disappeared behind a corner.

And once they were gone, a familiar blond emerged from behind the opposing corner, one hundred percent looking like he was spying on the couple from behind.

Hiromi was rarely still at school at such late hours. By the time she waved good-byes to Salima, the sun had begun to sink into the westward horizon. Salima had gone to the school’s bus stop; she lived in the north-western corner on the opposite side of the city, in one of the more high-end suburbs with big, beautiful houses, all with their own yards and swimming pools and garden sheds. Hiromi knew Emily to live in the same general direction, too, but had never been to that part of the city herself. An eastern district girl like her had no business there.

Hiromi stopped to check whether her mother had started inquiring where she was by now. She hadn’t. Slowly, she began her way home by foot.

She wasn’t very far into her journey before she began feeling eyes on her back. As a girl who habitually walked around town on her lonesome, she was finely tuned to stay vigilant about her surroundings and could immediately tell when she was being followed.

And the guys after her weren’t even being subtle about it. When she tossed a glance over her shoulder, she saw three of the ugliest chumps alive tailing her with idiotic grins on their faces. They were obviously fellow students, her age or one year older at best. Not too hard to deduce that they were members of one of the shitty little gangs who enjoyed wreaking havoc at school. They had to be Shell Killers; these chipmunks were too pathetic-looking to be members of the Blitzkrieg Boys.

Hiromi’s house was so close, she could easily have sprinted and reached home before these guys ever got her. But it had been a long and weird day and she felt somehow different, emboldened, more like her old, daring self from middle school. A side of her that she’d long subdued was boiling over. It still had its time and place.

She stopped, turned on her heel, and set her hands on her hips. “Hey. What are you doing?”

The boys stumbled on each other. They obviously hadn’t expected her to face them just like that, now their script was ruined and their shit-eating grins wavered as they came to a halt in unison, unsure what to do.

“I asked what you’re doing. You think you’re being cool, don’t you? Can’t imagine anything cooler than following random people on the street, wow. Gimme your names, I’ll let the student council president contact your moms about this. Oh, wait.” She took out her phone and quickly snatched a picture of all three who simply stood there, perplexed. “Perfect. And now your names.”

For one hot minute, the shortest of the boys – who clearly had the most to prove by trying to appear intimidating – was about to raise his fists and leap forward at her. The other two were more sensible and grabbed him from behind, muttering something along the lines of “we’d better go.”

“Bitch,” the short one spat before the three turned and ran away comically fast.

“And tell your boss that he’s a clown,” she shouted after them, then couldn’t resist adding: “The Shell Killers are a circus and Hiwatari Kai is the biggest clown in it!”

That felt good. There wasn’t anyone else around to hear her – or so she thought – but it felt great. Unnecessary and stupid as hell and just right.

Sighing contently, she walked the remaining distance home without anyone disturbing her.

[stormblessed95]

Tress of the Emerald Sea

Description: The only life Tress has known on her island home in an emerald-green ocean has been a simple one, with the simple pleasures of collecting cups brought by sailors from faraway lands and listening to stories told by her friend Charlie. But when his father takes him on a voyage to find a bride and disaster strikes, Tress must stow away on a ship and seek the Sorceress of the deadly Midnight Sea. Amid the spore oceans where pirates abound, can Tress leave her simple life behind and make her own place sailing a sea where a single drop of water can mean instant death?

This was released on the 1st of the month to kick off the "Year of Sanderson" and I spent the entire day yesterday binge reading it and loving everything about it. He also worked with Howard Lyon, an artist, who detailed illustrations to be added throughout the novel that were all AMAZING and increased the reading experience! I want some of these as giant art prints because they are gorgeous! (I'll be including them below!)

I read the book in a day and loved it. It had good deaf rep for a side character, a fun and interesting magic system and incredible new world and planet to explore in the cosmere. A world that seemed as beautiful as it is deadly. The 12 different moons, with 12 different seas made of different spores that do a variety of dangerous things that could kill you, but be so useful if used properly when they get wet. It was really cool to read about and to read about how well Tress handled herself as she learned! Sandersons magic systems are such a strong point for his novels. I loved the playful silliness of the prose. I was surprised in the best way that the story is actually told and narrated by Hoid, a beloved cosmere character, as if it's a lengthier verison of the stories he tells in the Stormlight Archive. He breaks the fourth wall, engages playfully and the humor hits for me. The romance was sweet, not overtly intense or even the best relationship he has written, but it was cute. I enjoyed Tress as an MC and following her adventures and accidental Voyage into piracy as she heads out to rescue her love was amazing. The crew was great and I love a good pirate novel! And Piracy on an Ocean that had no water and was magical was super cool! The cosmere Easter eggs were amazing to find. Like Ulaam the Kandra, Riina from the Ire, and Hoid, of course, played a much bigger role as the stories narrator. I saw references to Mistborn, to Warbreaker and to Stormlight here. But while there were references, it is possible to read this book without reading anything else and holds itself up as a really great cozy lighthearted fantasy standalone read without spoiling any other books. Which is great!

Honestly, a great book to start off my 2023 reading time with and while I don't normally post my reviews here, I wanted to share this one and I wanted to share all the stunning art too! Because WOW! I ultimately ended up giving this book 4 stars out of 5. I can't wait for the merch box that comes with it to get here this month and see what's included as well as get to have this in hardcover!

Stunning art. Truly. Will be spending some time on 17th shard exploring all the possible intricacies I missed my first time reading and hearing what everyone else was thinking of it and any other possible cosmere connections!

[feyhunter78]

Snapdragons (9/?)

Description: Elrond travels back to Khazad-dûm, in search of Maeria, and Maeria experiences the strange aftermath of her brother and Galadriel's mental battle.

Elrond had paced back and forth for so long, he feared he may have created a divot in the stone flooring. He gripped Maeria’s letter tightly in his hand. He’d already made it back to Khazad-dûm, traveling faster than he’d ever done before, desperate to press Durin and Disa for any information they may have been holding back. There must be something he missed, some sign, or clue. Evil has a feeling, a sensation it gives off, and he felt nothing from Maeria, though neither had Galadriel from Halbrand.

“My gods elf, calm your pacing, it’s making me dizzy.” Durin’s low, warm voice brought him comfort, and he turned to embrace him.

“Apologies, old friend, I have much energy and nowhere to place it.”

Disa came and embraced him as well, a worried look splashed across her features. “Where is our girl? Where is our Maeria, Elrond.”

He sat on the wooden bench attached to their new table, leaning against its edge. “I do not know, part of me fears she had fled to Mordor with Sauron, another part of me hoped she would be here.”

“Mordor?” Durin said, his eyebrows shooting up, while Disa got a distant look on her face.

He handed him the letter, explaining all the information he’d collected.

Disa read the letter as well, then put her hand to her heart. “I prayed that demon would leave her alone, it seems he has not.”

“You knew about this?” Durin and Elrond asked at the same time.

“No, well, not everything. When I found Maeria she was in the throes of a nightmare and calling out for her brother, she was burning up, and there was this mark, branded on her skin. It cooled when she awoke, but there was a darkness in her eyes.” She wrung her hands, looking back at the letter. “We talked for quite a long while until I brought her back here, she was so frail, and she cried constantly like a babe.”

“Did she speak of anything else?” Elrond asked, kneeling to meet Disa’s lowered eyes.

“She would have other nightmares, and if I asked about them right as she awoke, she would blurt out answers before retreating into herself. Volcanos, drowning, light and dark colliding, a task she needed to complete, and that name you said, Halbrand. She said it once when the children caught her off guard and asked her brother’s name while she was cooking.”

He felt as if he’d been stabbed with a poisoned blade, her rejection, and disappearance was the initial blow, the knowledge of her family name the thrust, and now this. Knowing she was aware of Halbrand’s true identity from the moment she saw him sent the pain radiating throughout his body.

“We had the dark lord’s sister watching our children?” Durin was furious, his hand reaching for his axe.

“No, no, she cannot be. She’s Maeria, our Maeria, we’ve treated her like a daughter, and she’s treated us as parents, we know her heart.” Disa protested, set in her stance like stone.

Elrond wished Disa was right, he’d give anything for her to be right. “We have no way of knowing if she went with Halbrand willingly or not. I too wish to believe that she is the kind-hearted woman we all know and lo—” His grief cut him off, and Disa patted his hand reassuringly.

Of course, he still loved her, how could he not? Feelings did not simply disappear because the recipient of them had disappeared as well.

“What will you do? Trek to Mordor and ask her?” Durin asked, a grief of his own buried deep within his dark eyes.

“I do not know what I will do.” Elrond admitted, the sense of helplessness crashing down on him.

“The hour grows late, why not rest? Then in the morning we can discuss this further. Take Maeria’s room, perhaps she left something behind.” Disa urged, a hand on her husband’s arm.

Elrond nodded and quietly slipped up to her room, careful not to wake the children, relishing in the way Maeria’s bed still smelled of her.

Maeria laid on her bed, staring up at the rocky ceiling, her brother had started to smooth it down for her, but he had more pressing matters to attend to. She’d finished decorating her room, her bathroom, the receiving room, the kitchen, and every other room she was allowed in, yet it was not enough.

She picked up the signet ring that hung from a chain around her neck, and held it up to the torchlight. It was Elrond’s. He’d dropped it in the field. She knew it was traditional for elves to make a hair clasp when they proposed, but she had mentioned her fondness for the human tradition of rings. Maeria guessed he’d listened and that had fueled his reason for bringing the ring. She’d spotted it as she sobbed, and taken it with her in a desperate need to keep some part of him with her.

Thoughts of him just made her sad, even the happy ones, the ones where they shared a meal, or a jest, or a kiss. She pressed the ring to her lips then let it fall beneath her night gown once more and turned over, extinguishing the torches with a wave of her hand.

Sleep came quickly, and she was in that same inn from so long ago, this time her brother was in full view drinking at the bar.

“Is this the waypoint for dreams now?” She asked, sitting on the barstool next to him, a flagon of spirits appearing in front of her as well.

“That is something I am admittedly trying to figure out.” He said, taking a long swig of his drink.

“Is everything alright?” She turned in her seat.

“I am attempting to enter Galadriel’s dreams, but she is much too angry at the moment. I’m waiting for her dreams to calm her before I enter.”

“What do Galadriel’s dreams have to do with mine?” She took a sip of her drink. Dwarven ale with cinnamon and honey, her favorite.

“Our minds are connected, yours and mine, when I connected mine to Galadriel’s it created a nexus of sorts.”

“Oh…so she can see into our minds?”

He scoffed, “no, she refused my offer, this is a one way road between her and I.”

“Ah, okay, well I am going to go to my own dream, I will see you in the morning. Good luck, queen hunting.”

He raised his drink, and she giggled, making her way down the hallway, letting it pull her towards her dream.

A door flew open, and she stepped through, she felt that familiar haziness that washed through her mind, removing any idea that this was anything but reality.

 Maeria let out a contented sigh, comfort blanketing her as she rested her head against the door frame, she was home, in Khazad-dûm. Everything was just as she had left it except one thing, Elrond was sitting on her bed, head in his hands.

“Elrond?” She called.

He looked up, a smile blossoming across his handsome face. He stood and rushed to her, pulling her into his embrace. “My starlight, you’re here. Durin said that—”

“Of course, I would be here, where else would I be?” His oakwood eyes were filled with worry, and she cupped his face, brushing a gentle kiss to his lips.

He returned the kiss, pressing her against the door frame, his hands so tight on her waist as if he feared she’d disappear. “I thought you’d gone to Mordor.” He breathed against her lips.

“Mordor? Why would I do that, my family is here, and you are in Lindon.”

He smiled and rested his forehead against hers. “It must have been a terrible dream, brought on by all our travel.”

She caressed his cheekbones with her thumbs. “It must have been, but now we may rest, no more travel for a while. The elves are saved, the dwarves are able to safely mine mithril, and we are married.” The mithril ring on her finger shone in the lowlight, and he took her hand from his cheek and pressed it to his lips.

“My starlight, my beautiful wife, how happy I am to see you.” He led her back to her bed and she sat down, Elrond sitting next to her.

“I am happy to see you as well, husband.” She said, watching as he reverently places soft kisses to each of the pads of her fingers, before kissing down to her wrist.

“I missed you, so much.” He whispered. “I wish I knew where you were.”

She blinked in confusion. “Elrond, silly, I am sitting right in front of you.”

He shook his head, face distraught as he held her hand to his chest, there was no heartbeat. “No, Maeria, you’re gone.”

She jolted awake, wiping away the tears that had slipped down her face. Her brother stood above her, a confused look on his face.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Yes, just an odd dream.”

Halbrand sat on her bed smiling. “I have made progress.”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @elronds-pointy-ears, @elrondscalaquendi, @dilf-superiority

[zorawitch]

wip wordsearch

tagged by @windsweptinred love u bestie thank you this was so much fun

my words are red, free, lips, cool, and sweet

Red

“I will. I saw some red sky this morning.” Daeron takes his old sailors’ rhymes far more seriously than anyone else Alicent knows.

“Thank you for telling me. I’ll be sure to look out for any ships on their way home tonight.”

Daeron gives her a funny little salute before walking off. He wants to join the Navy one day, even if most everyone on Dragonstone considers such a thing a betrayal. Alicent is more concerned about the harsh Navy regimen breaking her littlest child into bits.

Free

It’s September, which means the sea is cooling down, but it still feels warm to Alicent. Perhaps it’s the way the sea is an embrace, keeping her in its arms. She floats on her back, looking toward the sky and toward the light that is busy casting her gaze across the sea, and she is at peace. She feels free when she is in the water, and sometimes she thinks about diving down, joining the drowned. She doesn’t know if her lungs would burn the way they should, if the lack of air would break her the way it’s supposed to. Not when the waves hold her so gently when her face is above the water.

Her peace is in the sound, the waves crashing on the beach, and in shutting her eyes. It is her alone time, and it rejuvenates her. She dives below the surface, into the dark. She moves her legs and her arms like some sort of leaping frog, but it’s always been what suited her. It’s not quick, but she does not care about being quick now. The sea is calm tonight. Even the storm last night was short - that was easy to discern. There will be no wrecks tonight, unless Larys begins mooncussing.

Lips

Agnes’s lips flattened into a thin, tight line. “I don’t think I will. There is a bit of me in it, Gabriel, and I would not sacrifice that for a cause I don’t believe in.”

“You aren’t losing your vision, are you, Mrs. Nutter?” Doubtless Lord Gabriel thought he sounded kindly for his concern over the older woman, but as usual, he came off only as patronizing. “The man looks nothing like you.”

“No. He does not.” She put down her paintbrush and removed her glasses. “You misunderstand me. But if you are so certain that you must show off the young man’s visage…” She trailed off, distracted. In truth he was not very young, and neither was Lord Gabriel, but Agnes Nutter had considered herself eighty years of age since her tenth birthday, and therefore everyone was young to her. 

Cool

As Aponoia shuts the door behind her, Lucienne immediately sobers up. She hasn’t cried in front of someone in years. It’s not that she doesn’t want to - it’s that she can’t anymore. She’s just incapable of it. Something about being cool and collected all the time. “I’m sorry,” she says, sitting down on the bed. “It’s just been a really odd few days.”

Aponoia’s room, unlike Morpheus’s, is decorated with a clear aesthetic, and that aesthetic is miserable. Everything seems to be various shades of gray, except a series of paintings of birds lining the walls, which are permitted splashes of red every once in a while. There is a rat enclosure sitting atop her dresser with four visible rodents inside. Aponoia hands Lucienne a box of tissues. “My family has been known to have that effect on people. But let it all out.”

Lucienne shakes her head. Even when given permission, she cannot resume her tears.

Sweet

Eventually, dirt path gives way to cobblestone road, where there are a number of booths set up outside the storefronts of Dragonstone. Nearly every speck of paint is peeling, and the hinges of every door groan with rust, and the air is sharp with salt, as it is for miles, but it is all familiar. It has not changed once throughout Alicent’s lifetime, and that is incredibly comforting. The market by the wharf still has the exact same nauseating yet sweet scent of dead fish and low tide that it always has, and Velaryon wares are still given pride of place, and poor, dead Laena Targaryen (neé Velaryon)’s beloved skiff Little Vhagar is still in the water, even if it hasn’t been used in years.

The town is unchanging in everything but its views on Alicent, apparently. She has not truly been at home in Dragonstone since her mother died. She is the lighthouse keeper now. Her line is of guardians, perhaps sent by the gods, perhaps not - regardless, on an island dependent on boats who are, in turn, dependent on the whims of storms, she is something like a holy figure. She does not exaggerate. She recognizes a few faces in the market, how could she not, but all they see is her green cloak, a sign of her occupation, and so they trace a seven-pointed star on the backs of their left hands. It is a Dragonstone tradition - they performed it for her mother, and now they perform it for her, and one day they will perform it for Helaena.

Snippets 1, 2, and 5 are all taken from my as yet untitled WIP that started out as a lighthouse keeper and siren AU for House of the Dragon but basically just turned into a love letter to New England, where I grew up. Snippet 3 is from another untitled WIP, a Dorian Gray AU for the Ineffable Husbands ship. Snippet 4 is from an unreleased chapter of This Is Why I Don't Leave The House.

tagging @notallsandmen @ineffably-ryuu @orion-romanova-barnes-1945

if you want to play, your words are: bone, hand, water, myth, and hold

[fightingthetides]

∗ 1oo﹕ sender  has  just  died ,  receiver  finds  out . // ummmmmmm

Taken from meme: [x] ||Accepting||

A bit earlier than planned, but Ravein returned from a mission he’d been out on for a while. He’d been away for about a month, and he knew from communications that his buddies had also been off on missions of their own. He could feel the tension in the air, but the moment he stepped into base, all the hushed mutterings came to an abrupt start.

Not a pleasant way to be greeted as one could imagine. Unnerved, he starts looking around, attempting to find any context clues for him to go off of. He recognizes one person in the crowd, who stopped like a deer in headlights. If his memory serves him right, he had been on a mission with Haru last.

Making a direct bee-line for the man, who was actively trying to avoid him while also acting nonchalant (spoiler alert: it only made things all the more suspicious). Through the twisting hallways, the silent assassin notices the state that some of the hallways were in. In the back of his mind, he’s curious about who started a fight this time.

Ravein finally manages to corner the guy. Wordlessly, he stared at the man, not relenting until the man finally gives up. If there was one thing anyone knew about Ravein, was that he was stubborn and patient.

He had no qualms about following someone until they gave into his silent demands. “Alright! I give! She’s in confinement right now.”

A small head tilt in confusion. Haru had a temper and an attitude to match, but she was obedient compared to officers within the Varia who did as they pleased. The man hesitated for a few more seconds, “that friend of yours. Luca, you didn’t hear what happened to him yet… did you?”

The look of confusion and worry was all the other needed to see, “He was killed in action and the perps sent his body to base not long ago. She was the first one to see it.” As one could imagine, Haru would’ve gone insane from anger alone. Wanting vengeance was just another facet of her breadkdown.

He finally realizes that the reason the hallways were in such a state was because Haru would’ve put up a fight if others tried to stop her from going after the perps who killed Luca. She’d always joked that if anything ever happened to them, she’d hunt down the perps and then tunnel down to Hell herself to drag them back to Earth.

“When?”

“Huh? O-oh” it was rare for Ravein to speak with his actual voice, so he was taken aback, “Yesterday, we found out.” They were discussing how to keep this a secret from Ravein until the situation calmed itself. Ideally, he would’ve been away for at least another week. Alas, he efficiently finished his mission early, so they didn’t have the chance to hide the news from him.

The reticent assassin nods his head and walks away. He was surprisingly quite calm and collected about the news. It was like business as usual, where he went to his room, wrote up his report, and did whatever he normally does, read or work out alone.

When asked how he was holding up after losing his friend, he would shake his head and shrug his shoulders in response. Everyone else took that to mean, ‘it’s unfortunate, but that’s just how it is in the Varia. People die eventually.’ As it turned out, they didn’t have to worry about him—or so they thought.

When night fell, he snuck into the confinement room that Haru was kept in to force her to ‘cool her head,’ and he broke her out. Together, they left the base in search of the bastards that killed Luca. If Haru was the sort to express her emotions vocally and physically, Ravein was the sort who preferred to internalize everything and ‘speak’ through action. While working on his report, he had gone to research what mission Luca was on, and devise his plan of breaking Haru out and bringing her with him.

In retrospect, it was better that Haru had been the one that was confined first, as Ravein had the sense to break her out so they could go together. If he were the one to have found out first, he would’ve gone off the handle immediately like Haru had done.

After all, two assassins on the job is better than just one whose mind was clouded by anger and pain.

She’d never forgive him if he came back after getting revenge while leaving her behind. A few hours after the break in, an alarm that Haru had escaped her confinement cell was sounded off. It didn’t take long to realize that Ravein was missing as well.

No one was sent to go after the two because they knew full well that neither Haru or Ravein would hesitate to attack whoever got in their way. Haru, at the very least would attack to incapacitate, while Ravein wouldn’t hesitate to kill if it meant it could save a few precious seconds.

The Varia had already lost Luca, so they couldn’t afford to lose any more just to bring back two officers throwing a tantrum. “What kind of present do you think Luca would like? A hand? Maybe an ear? Hmm… maybe an eye is good.” Haru was thinking aloud as they were travelling according to the path Ravein had set for them.

It took a period of a week of them hunting and maiming anyone Ravein thought could’ve been the perpetrator behind killing Luca. Perhaps a few innocent lives were taken, but neither of them were willing to take any chances of letting the killer go scot-free. In their path a bloody trail of carnage, with some missing body parts as Haru was collecting them as ‘gifts’.

Once their personal mission of vengeance was complete, there was a sense of fulfillment and emptiness. What now? Doing this wouldn’t bring their Luca back, but it was a good way of venting their anger out on the ones responsible.

Haru and Ravein split ways after completing their personal mission to have some time to themselves. With Luca’s enemies dead, Haru could finally sit down and cry over the loss. Ravein, a person who rarely slept for long due to his constant bout of nightmares couldn’t sleep at all. It was the mere principle of being so caught up in his thoughts remembering Luca that his brain wouldn’t allow him to sleep.

Having a pictographic memory as he did, it made remembering Luca all the harder to process.

The two may have stayed out for longer before someone messaged them saying that if they stay out for too long, they may miss out on looking through Luca’s things to take before they’re disposed of. It didn’t take long for either of them to return to base to retrieve something to remember their friend by—and to also be punished for truancy.

Worth it, though.  

[tap3werm]

Hellboy The Golden Army 2008 7/10

Hellboy the golden army, is a movie about an outcast demon man with relationship issues who kills magical creatures and has to stop a magical prince from killing the humans with an unstoppable mech army.

Exposition 

Despite being the second movie, it seems like they wanted to explain Hellboy's origin one more time. This time, they did a much better job I think. They explained as much as they needed to, and actually conveyed more information about Hellboy’s upbringing and his relationship with his father in this brief, redone introduction. This introduction is smoothly transitioned into the exposition of the antagonist. The antagonist is the prince.

 The prince hates the humans because they are endlessly greedy and cover nature in concrete. Not the most original idea, but this is acceptable. This is something you can empathize with or at the very least sympathize. It also explains his feud with his own family and kingdom. They are fine with fading away and letting the humans consume them. The prince wants to fight for the sake of his people. 

It’s explained that the prince plans to use the golden army that was once made for his father, to fight the humans. He must collect the pieces to do so. He gets the first piece, the one given to the humans, from an art auction. The second piece he obtains by killing his father, and the third is missing when his sister runs off with it.

You’re also introduced to the relationship issues that Hellboy and Liz are having. You’re able to see that it consists of his irresponsibility, and something that Liz doesn’t understand and is troubling her. 

Confrontation 

The tension builds with the prince’s search for the piece his sister holds. The protagonists are in a race with him to find it. They find it before him, they fight him. He tracks them down, they fight him. This is another introduction to yet another source of tension. This is because, the prince puts a piece of the blade in Hellboy’s chest, and it slowly burrows in his chest. 

At this point, you have the tension of, how are they going to save hellboy? What do they do about the remaining piece? How do they navigate these while also stopping the Prince? What is Abe’s plan with the final piece? With the addition of Liz being pregnant. This is not the biggest worry, but it does exactly what it needs to, and it’s necessary to have different tension points at different levels, from different directions.

The tension is, I think, kind of inadequately resolved, regarding saving Hellboy with the random troll dude just leading them to the one person who can remove it, just to keep the blade. And for whatever reason he really wanted the blade. Another is, one of those cheap moments where they happen to just meet someone who just happens to know everything. The character was cool, but it could've been achieved better. 

Climax

The climax is the final battle against the prince. It’s revealed that Abe’s plan was literally to just give him the piece for the princess. I’m not sure why that was his plan, being the smart one; This was a poor choice of writing I think. I’m not sure what the prince is even supposed to do to her considering he’ll receive any wound she takes. The prince really had no leverage there; I digress. Pretty weird plot mistake there though.

The prince awakens the army with all the pieces, and a battle with them starts. They fight the robot army, and they see just how impossible it is to fight them, because unlike the last movie, they’re actually immortal. Then, Hellboy gets a pretty good idea. That would be the right to challenge the prince to a duel. He beats the prince without killing him, so that the princess doesn’t die for Abe’s sake mostly. The prince tries to get a cheap stab on Hellboy, the princess then ends up stabbing herself in the chest which kills the prince as well, saving Hellboy in return.

Summary

They improved immensely in just about every single way from the first movie. I’m not sure what it was that held them back? But maybe they just did a really good job learning from their mistakes. I’m not sure; But in this movie they had amazing choreography for fights, they had great shots, great editing, acting, the villains had a very cool design, and most importantly the writing was actually great this time. There were real tension points and they were something you could empathize with. These combinations of tension points were great. I think this is necessary for a viewer to be able to connect to a character. Very rarely are we dealing with one issue at a time. And very rarely is there a clear answer on what to do. 

On top of all that, the CGI was very impressive. They really really improved it in those four years or so. 

The only issues I would have with it are scenes like how Hellboy got the spear tip removed, Abe tossing over the remaining piece, and this one scene where the prince was in the agency looking for the piece but there was literally like 20 agents with their guns out just watching him beat the fuck out of drunk Hellboy. A lot of movies forget that guns exist for the sake of an exciting fight. If that was what they wanted, they should’ve found a way to separate guns from these types of scenes. Why didn’t hellboy ever use his gun against the prince? Same thing. I also believe they should’ve expanded more on the internal struggle that Hellboy was having with killing the forest god. Missed opportunity. There are the worldbuilding logic holes I could bring up, but that’s kinda redundant. I personally don’t like overlooking those things though.

Overall it was a great exciting movie with great characters and great writing.

[rocket-sith]

So I got a few asks and messages about WTF this was even about. Since this isn't the first time I've encountered an issue like this in fandom, and vague rants aren't particularly helpful, here goes.

IMHO it's extremely important for a writer to be able to differentiate between their own POV about a character or thing, and an in-universe character's POV of another in-universe character or thing. Specifically, a character or thing who the writer (an IRL person on the outside looking in) might love, or hate, or be mildly intrigued by, or just not give a crap about could be viewed ENTIRELY DIFFERENTLY by a different character within the fictional universe.

IRL, you have ST and SW fans who think the Borg or the Sith or whatever are interesting or even cool, and sure there are some characters in those respective universes who feel the same. But there are plenty of in-universe characters who would very much emphatically beg to differ. And the same holds true for individual characters and their views on other individual characters - including themselves (I mean, how many times have you as a fan in any fandom absolutely adored a character who had major self esteem issues?)

The point being - one character's view of another character, or of a concept, or of themselves, does not necessarily reflect a fic writer's view of those characters/concepts.

In S3 of Picard, Seven seemed to have an EXTREMELY rocky and complex dynamic with Shaw, underpinned with equal parts mutual grudging respect, mutual desire to storm off and seethe, and mutual urge to go outside and fight each other in the proverbial parking lot. Sometimes all at the same time, as long as the crew stays alive and well.

Going all the way back to Voyager and continuing all the way through Picard, Seven has major self esteem issues stemming from how people view/treat/react to her appearance, plus her own guilt over what she was forced by the Borg to do during her time in the collective.

Shaw was a Wolf 359 survivor whose "old fashioned grease monkey" pragmatism was at odds with his unaddressed trauma, and he seemed to handle this by recruiting a hyper-capable XO who was also an Ex-B and putting incredible amounts of faith in her while also frequently treating her like shit - to the point of deadnaming her and calling her a Borg while she's also the only one he trusts to be in engineering with him during a crisis when keeping his crew safe is a top priority.

From my POV as an IRL person on the outside looking in, BOTH of these characters need more therapy than can possibly ever be had in a lifetime, but we all know neither of them gets it, and both have already developed so many unhealthy coping mechanisms they'd probably do everything in their power to avoid therapy even if offered (see also: Seven trying to flat out delete the La Sirena EMH's therapist programming, and Shaw admitting out loud that he'd substituted being a jerk for charm as a way of coping with his shit.)

Also from my POV as an IRL person on the outside looking in: Seven is a Chaotic Good full-tilt superhero, Shaw is a Lawful Neutral bordering on Lawful Good captain with unparalleled levels of grit, both are still flawed humans, and both are extremely complex characters who've been through unimaginable levels of hell and ended up coping in different ways - some healthy and some not.

If I write something primarily from Seven's POV, and I write Seven as thinking of Shaw's personality (not his mechanical skills, or his skills at keeping people alive - but skills at approachability and personal interaction) as being that of a total dick, while I also write Seven as thinking of herself as appearing frightening, unapproachable, or Borg-like to others - that doesn't mean MY opinion of either character is anything remotely like that, or even that all in-universe characters would share the same opinion of these characters.

It's the exact same reason why, in the SW fandom, if I was writing something primarily from Anakin's POV (even if it was genfic) - an extremely idealized version of Obi-Wan was often presented because that's how Anakin viewed Obi-Wan. And then I'd come back here and unleash some capslocked screed about how Obi-Wan was the biggest villain in Star Wars, because that's how I view Obi-Wan.

So the other day, I got some (sorry, but it was pretty damn funny) extremely ranty and borderline nonsensical anon comment on this tiny-ass ST fanfic I'd written, accusing me of random BS that I couldn't make heads nor tails of, and also accusing me of bashing Shaw because the fic had a mention of Seven thinking Shaw was a dick. She was also thinking of herself as looking too Borg for others to realistically find trustworthy - and therefore sarcastically commenting to herself that Shaw must really be an ass if half the crew felt more comfortable approaching/confiding in a Borg than approaching/confiding in Shaw.

It was sort of a Seven character study on my part, not a bash at Shaw, so the magnitude of anger in the comment seemed almost Donald Duck levels of disproportionately left-field hilarity. But it also got my brain churning super hard on the topic of character POV vs author POV, and how one impacts the other, and how reader POV also plays into it, and this post (plus some apparent confusion over how nebulously vague and silly the first one was, lol sorry) is the resulting mental vomit.

tl;dr - If you're reading a story, and a fictional character has an in-universe reason to talk shit about another character, or to idolize another character, it doesn't mean anything about how the author personally feels about either character. Similarly, if you ARE the author, and one of your characters has an in-universe reason to talk shit about or idolize another character, letting the character express the sentiment doesn't mean you as a writer share it.

This has been a message from the Emergency Overthinking Writing Rabbit Holes System. *bleeeep*

Y'all. Y'ALL. I got anonymous hate on one of my fics for the first time since 2016. *sniffs* I feel so special!

Dear anonymous wanker:

Half the shit you said didn't even pertain to the fic, and the other half showcased your tragicomic inability to differentiate between the opinion of a story's author and the opinion of a fictional character within the story. *insert Shame Bell here*

tl;dr - Go spank your Twelve Monkeys to Shaw someplace else. There are plenty of amazing Shaw x Seven fics out there. I know because I've read them. I was also trolling an anti in your tags like three days ago on general principle while looking for fics, so once again - please learn to differentiate between the opinion of a writer (real person) and the POV of a fictional character (not a real person, whose feelings and perspectives we can only speculate about, especially regarding a dynamic that's clearly quite complex).

In conclusion, yo mama's so fat, Kirk broke the temporal prime directive by doing a slingshot maneuver around her ass. Also in conclusion - go touch grass. I may or may not be referring to cannabis. No stolen pots were harmed in the making of this post. This has been a message from the emergency GTFO system. *beeeeeep*

[phoenixyfriend]

When Obi-Wan gets to AotC, there's also about two dozen Anakin clones on-site. They're all girls because... IDK Anakin is trans. They have a hive mind and are developmentally a few years younger than Anakin himself.

It's incredibly unsettling to Obi-Wan.

It's almost definitely a "fuck with Anakin's already fragile mental health" ploy by Palpatine, along with a "what if Jedi Black Widows, for me, a Sith Lord. Wouldn't that be neat? That would be neat."

Anakin is torn between "this freaks me out" and "GANG OF BABY SISTERS LET'S GOOOOOOO."

(I just finished reading Like Real People Do by glimmerglanger, so this is definitely inspired by that and the obligatory 'lay back in bed and daydream variations on plot points of that fic you just really enjoyed,' and also a little by Same Heart, Same Blood by loosingletters.)

They're physically like 14-16 on average, and Anakin's vibrating out of his skin with a million conflicting emotions, but when he tells Padme she's just like "oh, you have a handmaiden gang!"

I told this to @willowcrowned and she suggested:

Once Anakin decides to repress the part of him that’s weirded out and just regard them as baby sisters he gets. A little strange about it The first time one of them dies he may or may not slaughter every person he can [in response to Padme's comment] Anakin starts worrying that he needs to get them cool matching outfits

I also chatted about it with @firebirdeternal and they said:

Gang of Unsettling Smol Siblings is exactly the Karma that Anakin deserves

Do you think the Clones have a kind of Collective Name that they use at first that eventually just kind of morphs into a new last name? Skysisters or something? Like Palpatine was trying to be clever and name them like the Nightsisters.

I initially went with "functionally one person" hive-mind but I'm torn.

I think maybe they're BASICALLY one person on Kamino but drift into Separate Consciousness once they're far enough apart physically that their minds don't blend from proximity anymore.

Then they start Dating (like half of them are dating Fett clones because they grew up with these dudes, it's like childhood friends romance), and Anakin loses his mind about Protecting Them and They're Too Young.

Padme: You're nineteen and we just got married, they can date. Anakin: THEY'RE EIGHT. Padme: And the Fett clones are ten and dying for us in the field. Get them rights before you panic about their love lives.

Firebird:

it could be worse, one of them could imprint on Obi-Wan. "Anakin I promise I won't yell at you for the next five stupid things you do if you can figure out a way to stop this baby from having a crush on me" (I like the idea of Obi-wan bargaining not with "I won't be mad at you ever" because they Both Know That's Not True, and instead haggling with specific allowances. Like he's handing out Stupidity Coupons)

Please imagine Mace and Obi-Wan's personal responses to the idea of suddenly having to deal with not one, not two, but OVER TWENTY SKYWALKERS.

Plo is delighted to take one off their hands.

So is Yoda.

Willow:

Mace is like. okay suicide isn’t the Jedi way but on the other hand. i physically cannot deal with this Yoda: a skywalker, you say? one who is tall enough to reach the top shelf, you say? such a skywalker, bring me

Anakin would be given at least one because fuck you, suffer with us, but he's still a padawan so Ugh, fine, no.

I want to say one stays on Coruscant to hang out with the Guard, and ends up half-adopted by Padme. She keeps dressing up the Aniclone left with her in handmaiden outfits and sending selfies to Anakin.

"Hanging out with the little SiL!"

Anakin has so many issues about WHEN his genetic material was acquired.

And there's some confusion from the Fett clones about how much of a hive mind is normal for Jedi. They are confused that the answer is basically none, and "this is WHY nobody clones a Jedi"

ONE OF THEM STEALS BOBA FROM THE ARENA ON GEONOSIS.

Firebird:

"I have followed in our progenitor's footsteps and acquired a sibling." holds up a struggling Boba "He bites."

Willow:

Ooooo okay so if they have a sort of hive mind then they probably don’t have names other than their designations on Kamino right BUT When they SEPARATE The one that picks Boba up on Geonosis gets a name specifically for that. Okay what if the one Padmé picks up gets some variant on ‘pretty’ because she’s always being dressed up BELLE Maybe Yoda’s Ani has a name that means thief? Because obviously Yoda is using Anakin to steal sweets

So, to make the timeline work...

I don't think anyone would give Anakin one of his sisters until after he's knighted at least.

So obviously when they're doing initial placements none of the sisters go to him or Obi-Wan.

Once he's knighted, of course they're already all placed with someone, and Anakin instead gets Ahsoka. He loves Ahsoka. She is also a little sister. He said so.

At some point afterwards, one of the sisters is left without a place because the Master that was in charge of her died in the field battle.

That sister then gets placed with Obi-Wan, because he's already mostly-successfully raised one Skywalker, so he can do it again.

Anakin gets to hang out with her basically all the time.

Ahsoka is very very jealous of this girl stealing Anakin's attention.

Anakin is oblivious to the rivalry.

He asks Barriss to look after them while he's discussing Adult War Things with Luminara and Obi-Wan, and Barriss gets an eye into This Mess, which is quickly colored by Ahsoka growing a puppy crush on the lovely Miss Offee herself.

Firebird:

Ahsoka: Ah yes, my nemesis. Anisister: Ah yes, my new older sister whom I want to impress so bad.

"I will impress her by being Stoic and Competent" "Oh my god she must think she's so much better than me what a bitch"

Anakin is oblivious to most things to be fair Anakin: Laser focused precision fighting machine who can read the tiniest body movements and predict your moves seconds in advance, who also cannot understand even the most basic social nuance. I was originally writing this as to Dunk on Anakin but then I made myself sad, because none of those things are really his fault.

So you know that post about like, Sasuke and Brooding, specifically in the context of "Brooding" as it's used to refer to Nesting Chickens? Grouchy and protective and sitting on a tennis ball trying to hatch it because they're just. "These are my Babies." Anakin Broods. Baby sisters. Must protecc. "I'm actually fine and extremely deadly in combat." "MUST PROTECT."

Bad Guy: [catches Ahsoka in a Trap] Aniclone: Must rescue sister! Aniclone: [fights, is not winning fight, gets ouched] Ahsoka tearing her way out of Trap: I lived bitch. Also: stay the fuck away from her. [murders so hard]

Ahsoka catches the Protective Older Sib feels by the traditional method: "Hey, only I'm allowed to be mean to them."

Willow:

Oh Anakin has no clue what’s going on. He walks in on Ahsoka glaring at the Ani and is like!!! Little sisters!!! Bonding!!! When Ahsoka was about three seconds away from tossing her out of the airlock. Ahsoka mistakenly assumes that Barriss has a crush on the Ani, and gets even MORE jealous.

Obi-Wan is like oh god. I can’t take care of an Anakin going through puberty again. He’s great with periods and other stuff because he read about a billion books. He is TERRIBLE with everything else, as he was the first time.

Barriss is like???? YOU'RE BOTH CHILDREN, PLEASE CALM DOWN, I HAVE ZERO INTEREST IN DATING ANYONE, LET ALONE SOMEONE YOUR AGE.

IDK how old Obi-Wan's Aniclone is, probably physically the same age as Ahsoka?

Per @atagotiak on discord:

Also something something, similarities btw Anakin and Obi-Wan where like. "Am I a parent? That seems uncomfortable, I'm too young to be a dad to a kid this age, I mean I'm cool with being a mentor/caretaker but..."

Obi-Wan can't even sidestep parenthood this time.

"Is Anakin basically your dad?" "Uhhhhhh" [Muffled discussion] "So Obi-Wan is your dad." "Okay!" "WAIT NO I DIDN'T AGREE TO THIS"

Ahsoka: She's stealing my brother, that BITCH. Obi-Wan's Aniclone: new sister new sister new sister gotta make a good impression

Firebird:

I feel like the Sister Squad would make very effective interstellar espionage agents Even like, kind of by accident. They just get encouraged to branch out in their interests and figure out what they want to do with their lives and end up all over the dang place, and since they're all pretty dang competent they tend to gravitate towards Important Positions wherever they end up. Except for one sister who just retires to raise Space Sheep.

I like that in this AU Palpatine is just like "I will create an army of Loyal Murderers who will obey my every whim and also be a big psychological lever on my Other Pet Murderer," and then they all just Baby Duckling imprint on the first Jedi to be nice to them instead and he has to just be like "Wait no not like that."

AND one of them Steals Boba

I want Obi-Wan's Aniclone to start dating Fives. All the sisters judge her for it, because he's a Goof. A very competent, ARC Trooper goof! But a goof.

Not as goofy as Anakin, though.

Firebird:

Who expects a clone of Anakin Skywalker to not make questionable lifelong romantic choices impulsively?