#and i can ESPECIALLY be made to care when The Character is somehow an embodiment of Space and/or Fantasy Materiality
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scribefindegil · 2 years ago
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also normally you could not pay me to care about SFF geopolitics it's just not where my heart lies but i can EASILY be made to care about Space and/or Fantasy Materiality so thanks Ann Leckie for the hack
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autisticrosewilson · 9 months ago
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It's not that I hate fanon or that I think fanon is inherently less intelligent or morally wrong, but a LOT of fanon is based in racism, misogyny, and classism that I feel like a lot of you accept without question.
WHY is Duke (Daredevil, son of a god, has never once allowed himself to be defined by anyone's actions but his own) relegated to a background role, only characterized by reacting to the whims of other bats?
Why is Babs - Birds of Prey leader and backbone of the hero society, tells Bruce to fuck off and die 4 times a day and is constantly ruining her relationships by being biased and unhinged - Gotham bound, the mature responsible mom of the group who never argues with Bruce and never gets in trouble?
Why is Dick, both a tactical genius and master manipulator, a himbo only appreciated for his sex appeal? Especially when he is both Romani (group of people demonized and condemned as hypersexual by their nature alone) and an SA victim.
WHY is Damian "feral" and "uncivilized" despite being raised as a literal prince? Half of you treat him like a sociopath with no hope of redemption for an unfunny three second joke and the other half of you go full throttle into Bruce's white savior bullshit so that Damian can be "redeemed". Y'know when you're not villainizing Talia and acting like Dick is his other parent, actually.
WHY is Stephanie - extremely intelligent detective who can't stand Bruce and has a living mother she loves - lumped in as another member of the Batfam, a blonde ditz who only cares about prank wars and emotionally supporting Tim?
WHY is Cass - intelligent, a grown adult, suicidal perfectionist - emotionally intelligent, primarily existing to support the characters around her, immediately accepting of everyone she meets regardless of her own morals?
Why is Bruce the golden standard? Enough so that though everyone in the fandom could agree that he's an emotionally unstable wreck, being considered "the most like him" is seen as a compliment and not the HIGHEST insult? Everyone would agree if I said that Bruce purposely self sabotages his relationship half the time and the other half he simply does things without caring about the emotional impact it will have on people because he has to be the smartest in the room, but if I said that makes him a shit partner and emotionally abusive parent the fandom would bend over backwards to argue with me.
Why is Tim "the best Robin" when Dick Grayson invented the mantle, it is impossible for someone to embody the spirit of Robin better than him because he made it and he created what being Robin means. Maybe Tim is the best in Bruce's eyes, but what Robin means and who has the right to give it over was a significant thing they argued about. Tim the high school drop out, and yet also somehow the smartest? Tim "the most like Bruce" except no he's not, that's Cass. Poor neglected, abused, victimized little Timmy (the rich boy at the elite boarding school with loving albeit busy parents and almost every instance of him being victimized by another character has either been racist bullshit - The Al Ghuls and Rose Wilson- or a complete 180 for the character that made no sense when examined through the lens of prior characterization - Jason for instance.)
Almost every fanon trope that gets passed around like gospel seems to deliberately push POC characters and women into the background and strip them of interesting complex traits and stories, usually for the purpose of fitting them all into bite sized incorrect quote character types and uncomplicated narrative roles that are not only completely divergent from canon, but primarily exist to prop up the two rich white boys.
Also the insistence that Bruce, a 20 year old at the time, should actually be excused for how much he mentally and emotionally fucked Dick up because really they're more like siblings! While deciding that Dick at the same age was actually the perfect candidate to be Damian's new parent/guardian...have you lost the fucking plot you don't even make sense to yourselves.
Okay I lied at the beginning, I do hate fanon. You guys are so uncritical about the media you consume it is BEYOND just letting people enjoy things and have fun. I guess it's one thing if you KNOW this stuff isn't canon and UNDERSTAND why these tropes are problematic and you engage with it as such, it's fine read and write what you want, but just spreading the same nonsense around and parading it around as "better than canon" (version of the character so bland and boring you've somehow made the old white men at DC look like geniuses in the art of representation) is just infuriating.
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luniviravosshipper · 7 months ago
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Before this upcoming season comes out, I just want to go on the record and say that Terry was always one of my most favorite characters since the moment he was first introduced. I never understood all the backlash his character got for playing such a supporting role in the magefam dynamic because I thought his character had a lot of potential and was going to be incredibly essential for how their dynamic progressed throughout the series.
Terry is, like, a legitimately good person. It’s so odd to see all the criticisms he gets for being “too good” to be associated with the magefam when I think the existence of his character and his relationship with them fundamentally qualifies the right and wrong doings of both the antagonists and the protagonists. And that’s like something I’ve heard people complain about for a long time, the idea that somehow the show was painting the two sides of the cast too much in “black and white”, yet those same people are failing to give this character the proper recognition he deserves when he manages to still uphold his own sense of morals while being associated with the “big bad guys” of the show. And that’s because he isn’t being a bad person by being close to them, if anything, it shows how truly understanding and sympathetic of a person he is.
His character embodies a lot of the core messages the show tries to project but seems to be often overlooked about cycles and love and morality. And that’s especially evident in his relationship with Claudia.
Terry’s love for Claudia doesn’t deter him from being a good person, it actually challenges him to be a better one and to help her become better too in return (I’m sure we’ll see more of that this upcoming season). Even seeing the road she has been led down and is headed towards the end of, he still promises to not leave her side. But also, we see that he is able to simultaneously express openly what he believes and feels to be true. He has so far been shown actively advocating for Claudia and what he feels she needs which has in some cases made it necessary for him to argue against her choices or the people who could potentially hurt her if she lets them (like a certain sparkly elf).
I really hope that Terry doesn’t put himself first like so many people are insisting he should. I hope he actually fights for Claudia. That he keeps his promise and doesn’t leave her side unless he finds he really needs to in order to do what he thinks is best for both him and her. I don’t want him to be selfish, I think the idea that his love for Claudia is enough for him is perfectly fine and I don’t know why there is such a strong urging from people for him to want something more out of their relationship as if his love for her can only be fully pure or worth it if their relationship is transactional.
The idea that he would be willing to stick with her through thick and thin while still standing up for what he thinks is just and right because he simply loves her that much is ultimately far more compelling to me rather then him being more willing to drop her at a second’s notice simply because her choices conflate with his morals.
And, see, the thing is the second option wouldn’t even work. Because that would mean he would have to sacrifice his own love and care for her and potentially hurt her by breaking a promise that meant so much to her. And that would be going directly against what he believes in.
We’ll see what this season has in store, but I cannot honestly imagine a scenario where he’d supposedly be standing his moral ground by making an essentially selfish decision like that. That isn’t to say I don’t think they could write a scenario where he leaves her in a way that works (from some of the reviews it even sounds like that is what might happen), but just that I don’t really agree with what I’ve seen others specifically suggest should happen and how that should play out.
Anyways, I know this isn’t getting into how he seems to be cool with dark magic and tolerates Claudia’s negative feelings towards other elves, but I have thoughts and opinions on all of that too. I just can’t get into all of them rn before the season comes out. (I was actually planning on doing a whole other post on that but I don’t have the time or energy rn.)
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paopu-salad · 2 months ago
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What Organization XIII eats in a day
Idk if anyone has done this kind of post before with fictional characters, but I love food and wieiad videos are my guilty pleasure, so I took an opportunity to make some headcanons about the Org’s eating habits.
I’m just sticking with the original OrgXIII for now, let’s go!
TW: food - these are all headcanons about the fictional diets of fictional characters, and I am not a nutrition professional. So PLEASE do NOT copy these wieiad or use them as inspo! If you are not in a good place with food please be careful about engaging with this post!
All images are from Pinterest.
Xemnas
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Embodying the whole Nobody mindset, Xemnas only eats once a day. He doesn’t believe that ingesting food is necessary for Nobodies, though it’s hard to say whether empty husks actually still need food given they are still bodies. But are they ALIVE bodies? I might make another theory post about that later because I have a morbid idea that Nobodies are essentially like zombies except without a heart rather than a brain.
In any case, Xemnas still somehow functions fine eating the way he does, which by the way, is ✨eXpEnSiVe✨. Only the best for the Leader of the Organization. And yes he gets the lesser Nobodies to source the ingredients and make his food for him, because ain’t nobody got time to cook. He does still drink black coffee and water out of habit, but that’s all he has during the day. At night he dines on fancy oysters, caviar and salmon, a medium-rare steak, and a glass of vintage wine, as he pontificates about the powers of Kingdom Hearts and its role on the fates of the light and darkness in the universe.
Xigbar
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Xigbar is always on the go and that translates to his food choices. He likes anything he can hold with one hand so he can have the other hand on the trigger at all times.
In my mind the Organization is split into people who don’t get hungry in the morning and people who do, and Xigbar falls in the first category. I can see him making a coffee with a splash of milk from the communal coffee machine and grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl before heading off on his first mission of the day. He also takes a pouch filled with snacks (he likes pretzels, nuts and other crunchy things) with him in case he gets peckish while observing a world from a choice spot high up. That’s all he would have as a ‘lunch’, but if he returns to the castle for a break, if he’s lucky Xion is there and she might give him an onigiri she made.
He’s also the type to steal food, of course abusing his teleportation powers to do so 😂 his favourite targets are Axel, Demyx and Larxene, because they often have fast food that’s easy to yoink. So his dinner might be some fried chicken and fries he risks his life to get, but hey half of his appetite is the thrill of danger lmao
Xaldin
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Now we get to the first Nobody who’s a real food connoisseur, and while Dilan used to eat more commonly and that shows in his current eating, we can tell Xaldin has taken some pointers from his assignment at Beast’s Castle and levelled up his palette. He is most active at night, so he doesn’t eat until almost midday, with a filling brunch of a full English fry up and coffee with cream. During the day he’s seen with a variety of snacks, and he particularly likes dried fruit and vegetables, like mushroom chips and dark chocolate with fruit and nuts.
At night he dines on a hearty Beef Bourguignon stew with crusty baguette, French butter, and a classic Pinot Noir. If he’s not feeling so festive he’s satisfied with bangers and mash with peas and a beer (which is more similar to what he used to eat before his life in the Organization).
Vexen
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If there’s one thing Vexen believes it’s that science waits for no one, not even for meals. It’s incredibly easy for him to forget to eat when he’s in the middle of one of his experiments, and given he barely sleeps either, he pretty much runs on coffee. If he’s feeling especially motivated he’ll probably eat an apple for breakfast, but after that it’s back to the lab.
There has been a couple of times where Lexaeus had to drag the scientist out of the basement at lunchtime and shove a box of food in his hands, but too often Vexen will only manage a few bites before abandoning his meal for another epiphany.
For dinner he finally lets himself slow down for a bit and he heats up some soup with bread or crackers. He gets a stomachache if he eats a heavy meal at night. Despite his ice powers he gets cold pretty easily (gee I wonder why). He would hold the soup bowl to warm his hands while sighing to himself thinking about the past. He wonders about the urgency to complete the replica project, and the desire to recomplete his heart. Though his mind says it doesn’t really make a difference whether he has a heart or not. But a sinking feeling in his stomach always compels him to continue his mission. (Is it guilt?)
No, it’s gotta be the food in his belly. He’s done eating, so back to work he goes.
Lexaeus
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Lexaeus has always been mindful of his body, even as a full-hearted human. As a royal guard he had to make sure he’s in peak physical condition. He used to be a lot more restricted with his diet, but he’s matured and learned his lessons so he now prioritises nutrition over calories. He’s also a creature of habit, so even as a Nobody he still sticks with his old routine of meal prepping and regular eating times. Other members wonder if his disciplined lifestyle is the secret to his immense strength, but if he’s honest with himself he probably relies more on darkness for his powers nowadays. The food is only to remind him of the simple pleasures of being human.
After working out in the early morning, he would make himself some protein oats with fruit, peanut butter/dark chocolate and a mug of coffee. For lunch he usually has a combination of protein, fiber and a carb, such as a salmon bowl with quinoa. For dinner it’s another high protein meal such as chicken, with gravy or other condiments. And finally he enjoys a dessert of chocolate pudding with fruit, because life (or non-existence) is all about balance.
Zexion
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Zexion didn’t have a lot of memories of eating from when he was still a human child, only that he lived like a prince, with no concern regarding whether food will be on the table. His palette didn’t change much from over a decade ago, when he would come down to the dining room at breakfast time and help himself to the prepared toast, jam, berries, and tea with milk at the large serving table.
His lunch is whatever Lexaeus makes for him during meal prep - something simple like chicken cutlet veges and rice. Sometimes he doesn’t finish because the man makes too much. He doesn’t feel like eating in the evening, preferring to have some canned fish with crackers and cheese to snack on while he reads his Lexicon. He also sometimes indulges in chocolate chip cookies while sipping tea.
And sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night, maybe from a nightmare of his past life, but he doesn’t remember for sure. Waving the misty illusions from his sight, he comes down to the castle kitchens and makes himself a BLT sandwich, eating alone in the dark with only a small light made from his power. It makes him feel strangely nostalgic, and it comforts him enough to send him back to bed after.
Saix
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Saix is another Org member who doesn’t see a point in food for Nobodies, in fact it seemed bizarre to him - what would the food turn into anyway, if they are made of nothingness? You can’t add something and then have it disappear to nothing. However, the act of preparing a meal strangely relieves the hollow feeling he gets, and he looks forward to that more than the food itself. That’s why his meals tend to be a bit bland. He decides it’s just vestigial echoes of his human behaviour and he’s in no hurry to get rid of it completely.
He’s a busy man, being the one who assigns the daily missions he needs to be the first to arrive at the lounge. So he would prepare something quick like buttered toast and plain coffee. He likes convenience and efficiency, so for lunch he prefers wraps with meat and veges, and snacks are simple like a protein bar or fruit. Finally, dinner is a simple pasta salad to check off the remaining nutritional boxes.
He rarely craves sweet things, again he thinks it’s pointless. But when he does eat them, he loathes to admit he prefers this one, the signature colour a few shades lighter than his own hair. It used to remind him of his solidarity with his fiery friend, but now it only bitters him. After more than 10 years of joining the Organization, he no longer eats dessert.
Axel
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It’s either the disruption of being turned into a Nobody during your prime growing years, or the makeup of a Nobody’s physiology that might explain Axel’s high metabolism. Or maybe not, who knows. But the man puts away greasy fried foods like the best mukbangers in the business, without gaining a single pound. Maybe he uses all the calories as literal fuel for his fire powers. And unlike his old friend, the spicier, the better.
The extent of his cooking repertoire is grilling, obviously. But too many people higher ranked than him complained about strong smells too early in the morning so he had to stick to cereal for breakfast. He often has leftovers from the night before so his lunch is often reheated pizza and such. If he runs out, he might stop by a supermarket and grab some skewers and hot dogs to torch. Demyx and Xigbar usually joins him for the impromptu barbecue.
Of course Sea Salt Ice Cream is a must to destress after a long day of work. It’s best enjoyed with friends, and he had to find replacements when his usual buddy became too busy…and nothing beats a good ol’ burger with fries and coke to end the day. He believes food is best when you get your hands dirty, ykno 😏
Demyx
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Lazy and indulgent, Demyx treats mealtime like he does work: whatever is easy and, well, as close to pleasurable as he can. Like the water he controls, he goes with the flow of his stomach cravings. And that leads to a lot of familiar comfort foods. Grilled cheese for breakfast, usually washed down with an energy drink. During his travels in reconnaissance missions he would try all sorts of regional dishes, and fish tacos are one of his favourites. And if he's too broke, you can't go wrong with instant ramen and a fried egg on trop, you know, for health.
He is also partial to sugar, always having a stash of sour gummies hidden in his coat pockets. He's usually keen to share, if only to placate the more bothersome members like Larxene. But he's also been seen with packs chips or nibbling on a big block of cheese.
Luxord
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Luxord is a mellow Nobody who likes to take his time, since he has all of it in his possession of course. He's the guy who would still be relaxing with his breakfast of freshly made scone with clotted cream and jam and English tea while everyone else is rushing to attend a meeting in 5 minutes. Yet he's never tardy, funny that.
Like some other members, he prefers eating the reminders of his past home. Wherever that was, the memories are blurry to him now, the world where he came from long buried. He only remembered standing in line in the dreary grey afternoon for his favourite shawarma kebab, conversing with fellow workers on their lunch breaks. His dinner is a humble shepherd's pie, though he is pretty sure he had never stepped foot in a farm. Still it conveyed a homeliness like no other.
Wonderland was the most charming world he ever visited as a Nobody, especially the tea culture. And the biscuits that entice with their words "try me" and "eat me", only to reward the gambler who takes the bet with such amusing effects. He makes sure to obtain the goods whenever he gets a mission there, and offer them to anyone who would like to sit with him for afternoon tea. Because in the company of the Gambler of Fate, always expect some games to play.
Marluxia
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Having the power to manipulate plants creates an abundance of ingredients for vibrant dishes, and as with everything Marluxia infuses style in all his meals. He enjoys the fruits of his labour with a homemade smoothie for breakfast, and a vegetable omelette for lunch, or a chicken salad with fresh berries and nuts. Sometimes he tastes something sour or bitter, and he makes a note to adjust his growing spells. He also makes the best floral teas, which he has shared with Zexion and Luxord at times.
He prefers not to eat dinner - sometimes when he plots for too long and forgoes rest, the quality of his produce diminishes, and that is simply unacceptable. But the plan must go on, so what's the sacrifice of one meal if it's for a better cause? After all, the most beautiful flowers only bloom once, after a long period of rest, at the opportune time.
Larxene
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She's independent and does what she wants; Larxene has seen her fair share of beauty standards and diet talk in her pointless human life, and she couldn't care less. Eating is just a way to pass the time, as long as it doesn't slow her down during the day. A yoghurt bowl or a green juice for breakfast, an iced latte and bruschetta for lunch does the job just fine.
Her favourite dinner is Korean fried chicken and Soju, which was an indulgence back in the day. It doesn't quite excite her anymore, but it quite literally fills the hole where her heart used to be. She had a couple of unpleasant experiences where she would feel violently sick if she tries to launch herself at lightning speed right after a meal like this. So she makes sure to only eat once she's done with work for the day, which, she thinks, just can't finish fast enough.
Roxas
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Being literally less than a year old, it's a miracle Roxas managed to feed himself at all. At first he had absolutely no opinion of food, having no memories to work with. He didn't even know what eating was, the meager meals Xemnas had given him during his first week of non-existence was so plain that his tastebuds probably didn't wake up until the first time Axel gave him sea salt ice cream. Then Roxas practically imprinted on that sweet, he could probably live on sea salt ice cream if he can. But of course that's not healthy, so Axel finally taught him some simple things he can make like pancakes, PB&J sandwiches, and cereal.
Roxas really only eats when others are around and would probably starve otherwise, so he usually sticks with Axel in the kitchen. Luckily Xion likes to cook, so she is able to help Roxas with his nutrition when the tall redhead isn't around. Once she made them chicken katsu curry on rice for dinner, and it became one of Roxas's favourite foods other than ice cream. He also occasionally craves a particular star-shaped fruit for some reason; he has never seen it, and he has tried other fruit only to find his craving unsatisfied. He wonders if this craving is only one of his strange visions again.
Xion
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Xion was born with no memory whatsoever, and no personality to speak of. Like Roxas, she had to learn what food is, and what it means to partake in a meal, and indeed share one with others. After she first eats sea salt ice cream with Roxas, she became a lot more interested in food, reading stories about dishes and the people who make them in various cookbooks.
When Roxas was comatose, Xion was busy practising her cooking skills, making all sorts of meals and becoming quite good at it, particularly bento boxes with cute designs, which she would eat for lunch. She likes sweets such as waffles for breakfast, and for dinner she would make romantic dishes like spaghetti meatballs, and she always pays attention to little details. She also enjoys hot cocoa with marshmallows before bed.
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stevie-petey · 1 month ago
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hiii m, would you share some insight into the gasoline playlist?
GOD YES I WAS HOPING SOMEONE WOULD ASK !!!
ok long answer below the cut !
first and foremost some background: the playlist was made both with the lyrics in mind for plot purposes but also with the intention to capture how i think the februarys would sound !!! non live songs are the plot driven songs while the live songs are songs i think they would perform/suit well and i agonized over this lmao so im really proud of it :)
the songs are also in relative plot order so ,,, you can kinda guess the ending if u analyze the lyrics enough ;)
now onto the songs !
showtime by djo: this is exactly how i picture the februarys dressing room before their shows !! slowed music, kinda hazy, almost drunk sound. and it also inspired their mantra "showtime"
you really got me now by the kinks (live): such a fun song, one i imagine steve would sing well ugh imagine
cool it down by the velvet underground (live): steve song, he grew up with it. he performs this song in chapter 1 dedicated to angelface <3 "hey baby, if you want it so fast don't you know that it ain't gonna last" really foreshadows their entire relationship lmao
youre so vain by carly simon (live): robin and max sing this one. a very fuck u song to steve. i love it (also just applies to steves character overall)
devils advocate by the neighbourhood: this entire song sparked gasoline steves character. the way the beat jumps around and how cocky it is ,,,,,, this song embodies him. its his theme song tbh
sex by the 1975 (live): a very teasing and toxic song. written before angelface comes in, just a very cocky steve song
nothing matters by the last dinner party (live): another robin and max song. dramatic, angsty, horny. i love them <3 its also partially a plot song, very steve and angelface dynamic
brooklyn baby by flipturn: STEVES SONG !!!!! mans is a MESS and this song is just. its him :(( "now I don't care if you love, or hate me, but I used to, brooklyn baby" god it makes me sick
perfume by del water gap: another steve and angelface song. "You make me wanna know my way around your mind 'til I can make it though your mazes" at this point in the timeline hes obsessed with her and its such a tender horny song that i love dearly
hollow by flipturn (live): i hear this song so perfectly being an opener for the februarys, mikes production, jons drums. its a very mike and jon heavy song and just phenomenal (and the lyrics are very co dependent steve lyrics he has written zero happy songs until angelface comes around)
just like heaven by the cure: this is the song that plays at webster hall when steve makes out with a random girl while he watches angelface make out with someone else. a very very very ironic song. "why won't you ever know that I'm in love with you, that I'm in love with you?" like cmon thats THEM especially at this time theyre dancing around each other (literally)
boys dont cry by the cure (live): another mike production song and jon influence. fun and lovely and steves voice would match it so well
gasoline by haim (djo cover): GOD the song that started it all. ive been obsessed with this song for a while and joe covering it only made my obsession worse. such a raw and lustful song. sad and tender. ugh :(
personal lies by djo: had to add her such a good song. plot wise, this is steves mindset during chapters 2/3. hes a mess, a bit blurred, unsure. "You need attention, well, baby, there's the line" a direct line i used during his argument with angelface lmao
i bet you look good on the dance floor by the arctic monkeys (live): FUN FUCKING SONG THAT THE FEBRUARYS WOULD KILL !!!! thats it tbh but also steve sings this to angelface all rosie and sweaty and she kinda dies
choke by idk how but they found me: lmao weve reached chapter 4 of gasoline. this is directly after chapter 3 and the fallout. a very hateful song that also somehow borders on horny. so real tbh "I wouldn't hesitate to smile while you suffocate and die and that would be just fine"
love it if we made it by the 1975 (live): man :( this song hurts and its how the februarys style shifts more towards slower, melodramatic chords.
medicine by harry styles (live): honestly just a very horny song that steve sings. "I had a few, got drunk on you and now I'm wasted and when I sleep, I'm gonna dream of how you tasted" screams his name.
if i could change your mind by haim: OUCH. this song is very steve coded right after angelface makes him agree to be strictly professional. hes sad and lonely and regretful :( "Visions of our love pass right by me, your eyes are enough to remind me"
alrighty aphrodite by peach pit (live): cool song that i also would kill to hear steve sing. you get to hear some bass and guitar and its just so <333
do i wanna know by arctic monkeys: LMAO very self explanatory song. weve reached chapter 5 ! pure yearning and regret and just bitter love. man. "crawlin' back to you. ever thought of callin' when you've had a few? 'cause I always do" is a very specific line with a very specific scene youll see later. good luck !
sex on fire by kings of leon (live): another fun song the februarys would be fucking fantastic for. can you IMAGINE steve playing this song ?????????? christ.
neon roses by the technicolors: cant say much besides this is kinda the crux for steve and angelface. "But I never knew you at all. no, I never knew you at all, but don't let it happen" like hm lots to unpack there !
all these things that ive done by the killers (live): the grand finale. a very fitting closing song not only for the februarys but also for the story itself. full circle, perfect lyrics. very :')) "i got soul but im not a soldier" steve harrington i love you.
whew thats everything ! huzzah ! i love this playlist i spent so long on her pls enjoy <3
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giddlygoat · 2 years ago
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whatever. i keep thinking about dt17 LP and drake.
launchpad has been all over the world and made tons of friends and connections, but can’t seem to connect with anyone on a more meaningful level. i think it’s safe to say watching darkwing duck was his only constant in the time he spent traveling and he looked up to the character as a guiding light amongst all the uncertainty. iirc he was kicked out at a young age by his parents [in the classic shows at least] and honestly at this point that is cemented as part of his character for me. the majority of my LP hcs are total speculation bc we don’t have much to go off of but. i think the people who mattered to him most probably told him to get his head out of the clouds or get out of the house and the next thing he knows he’s up in them for good. isolation is launchpad’s nightmare.
drake’s autistic ass got bullied big time as a kid and darkwing imprinted on him heavily because he identified with the character and latched onto the idea that he would stand up against injustice and prevail because that’s the only option he has. he couldn’t even consider staying down after being beaten so many times, it just doesn’t register as a possibility for him. he would just get back up. he doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who had much support at all growing up, but he still chooses kindness. you can’t separate drake from his natural inclination towards compassion. and yet ….. ! he absolutely FEEDS off attention. he’s starving for it. he just needs someone to notice him and look at him and listen to him or he will wither. he needs love and validation and respect or he becomes a shell. been there, buddy
do you think when he got the role as DW in the movie he even thought of it as a job at all. i think drake didn’t have to act. i think drake knows the character so well and embodies all he stands for to such an extreme that playing darkwing was like breathing. it’s not hard for me to imagine that drake had moments where the line between him and the character faded, and he would stand at the top of some high tower in the lonely shoes of his hero and look down at all the broken teeth and singed feathers waiting for him and it would not be this profound or unfamiliar thing. i think drake recognizes himself better in the mask.
or you know, maybe he’s a totally normal well adjusted person with no self image issues whatsoever, but somehow i doubt it.
launchpad, meanwhile. hewboy. what if your worth is inseparable from the services you provide for others? what if you give everything you have every chance you get and never ask for anything back? what if the pain and the loneliness that follows the headfirst run into the emotional divide feels more like home than any one place ever did. what if every night you watched a cartoon about a flawed and flamboyant hero who protects a whole city and never takes his mask off for anyone - except maybe a very close friend - because this silly and attractive man can provide the ultimate service on an extreme scale and still be deeply flawed and still be loved.
i think LP naturally needs to follow someone. he’s not a leader, and he doesn’t want to be one. he takes charge when he’s needed, he’s dependable and kind, he cares so much it hurts. but i think following a lead makes him feel secure. he needs to see everyone else rise into their best selves and become self sufficient and content in their lives, but he doesn’t know how to do any of that without someone to build up in turn. launchpad needs validation, especially from the ones he admires, but he’s so programmed to give that he doesn’t know how to ask for anything. i’m guessing half the time he doesn’t even know that he needs help.
launchpad has put himself apart from everyone else, not on a pedestal, but down in the well that never runs dry. he’s forgotten that being happy to help isn’t the same as never needing it.
when him and drake met i think something amazing happened. i think there were a lot of emotions but the strongest had to be relief. drake let launchpad praise and encourage him and launchpad had someone to support and take care of, with the same hyperfixation, no less. two people who had made themselves unreachable suddenly couldn’t separate from each other, and they both know what it’s like to need to look out for everyone else. i think letting their guard down with each other came naturally and vulnerability put itself on the table. they’re both experiencing an easy and strong connection for the first time and it’s beautiful!
i hope these characterizations aren’t too far off, but i wouldn’t be surprised if it seems askew. it’s very difficult for me to keep my thoughts in order but i hope it’s coherent enough. this post is long enough already so i’m going to end it before i talk myself out of sharing it lawl
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aerosour · 5 months ago
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look at my star trek boy
augh it’s finally done. the lineup of the highest ranking officers on the starbase… my freaks
character info and stuff under cut
Cptn. Vrih i-Mneaha tr’Vochat — founder and ceo of the Sagittarius A* Starbase, if you will. Starfleet made him captain of the newly-built station as a sort of apology for letting a ton of his people die in the supernova like 15 years ago. he’s often described as talking like a Vulcan, yet acting like a Romulan. he’s usually cooped up in his office, signing paperwork and overseeing everything from afar.
Cmdr. Angus Francis Carson — the captain’s right hand man and boytoy. he’s usually the one out in the wild, acting as the face of the captain’s orders. he’s a bit of a pushover, especially when he feels uncomfortable (which is often), but he’s gradually working through his prey animal demeanor. above all, he is fiercely loyal and loves his job. kind of like a scared cat but it’s okay we love him
Dr. Zovapok Zh’rhynn — embodies the trusty cranky-yet-extraordinarily-skilled doctor archetype. she went straight from working on a small starship to a giant starbase orbiting the center of the galaxy, and it’s been a huge adjustment. she is exhausted yet passionate, and underneath her snapping and grumbling she really does care deeply about her work. the higher ranking officers often call her “Zova”
Dr. Vozra Mosen — you can tell that she based her entire self-worth growing up on something out of her control (being chosen to host a symbiont), and now she doesn’t see herself as being worth any praise at all. despite this, she is incredibly skilled at what she does, and is definitely overqualified for her position. she’s soft-spoken and kind of meek at times, but her lack of assertiveness is made up for by her charm (which, of course, she will not acknowledge.)
Chief Orzo Samantha — has the energy of an over-enthusiastic manager crossed with a blue collar worker. always doing something somewhere, and yet she somehow makes the time to herd the other engineers around. despite this, she is well-respected and regarded highly by the other high-ranking officers. she occasionally subs in for Carson when he needs someone more assertive to carry out the captain’s orders. she also treats every social event as an opportunity to chat up femmes
Chief Andreas Sho — the strangest little freak in the higher ranks by far (and that’s saying a lot). in true Betazoid fashion, he is very flashy and fun and maybe a little too honest. nobody knows if he doesn’t understand social cues, or if he does and just chooses to ignore them. he’s the youngest of the six, and combined with his trigger-happiness, it’s a wonder how he ascended to his rank so quickly. he’s essentially a mall cop with telepathic powers and probably a few mental illnesses.
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mythylvia · 4 months ago
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Gender Venting! (#1): General Stuff
Hey!! Gender is fucking with me.
I don't really know if I'm trans. I don't know if that's the label I'd use, I don't know if I have dysphoria, I don't really know what language or labels to use. All I do know is that I've just wanted to be a girl instead of a boy, for years and years. I haven't ever really had a good self-image, but especially when I was younger I kind of hated myself all the time, mainly because I didn't really see myself as a fully complete and stable human. I felt completely blank about my identity, I felt like a contradictory mess of emotions and desires which came and went, and so I never felt like I had a firm sense of who I was that I could rely on to define myself by and build a positive self-image from. I could recognize that I indeed that qualities that I had-or that people said that I had at least-were admiral and maybe even enviable, but I don't know, they never really felt true, or like they were actually things I felt about myself, or like I cared about them. Some days I still feel very much this way; in my modern life, I've really only managed to stack a ton of boxes on top of each other through sheer logical deduction that like "okay, so logically I know I've done this, this, and that, so I must be this type of person," but that stack is always liable to tumble down and reveal that at the bottom where I feel like there's no foundation, just an impermanence and confusing mess of change where a stable set of values and beliefs is supposed to exist.
At least, that's how it feels a lot of the time. It's not fully accurate, I probably do recognize some core tenants of myself, but it's accurate to a point, I definitely feel/have felt incomplete, and that's definitely how I perceived myself, especially as a child. And so what I did was envy other people who I felt had a very strong sense of self, who I kind of wished I could be, and by "people," I mean I envied basically exclusively girls.
By this I mean, I had high envy for femininity, hair, clothing, means of expression, ways of moving through the world, social perception, just the essence of being a girl felt very powerful to me. I had basically no similar resolutions towards masculinity, I really had zero interest in boys and what they were doing, or wanting to be anything like them. This translated to liking a lot of stereotypically "girly things," and also a ton of daydreaming about being a girl: I spent countless nights up for hours coming up with entire mini-series of stories where I could just, be a girl, embody a girl character to fulfill something I didn't fully recognize or understand. I was somehow aware enough to know that voicing any of this to anyone would be mortifyingly embarrassing, so I kept it all internal, trudging along as a boy with the life and self expression that I felt confined to have. As I matured, these thoughts and memories became more suppressed, less explicit, I didn't think think about being a girl as much, but the envy and the daydreaming still persisted. Though it was less about self-inserting, I still retained a lot of those similar thoughts, and I still created characters to live vicariously through, characters that kind of felt like "who I would be if I had a second life and a full set of customization options." And that was that for nearly a decade.
Discovering transness and actually looking into what it is has caused me to unpack these emotions and memories in much greater depth than I ever have, to put together a puzzle that I always knew the vague pieces of but had never really consciously analyzed with full clarity. It was like discovering a star of navigation in the sky that had always been there to guide me internally but that I had never paid attention to. And it was saying, almost screaming "I want to be a girl." Some days, that's made me really happy, I felt like I'm a woman, that I can actually achieve something I feel I've yearned for. A lot of days, it's been really sad, thinking about how far away that reality is. Some days, I can't see the star, I just feel like a man and I don't feel bothered by it, and even then I find myself clawing back for those thoughts and feelings to come back, struggling with that ways that my wants and dreams are impermanent and always changing, just like they always have been. My thoughts have looped back to fixation the star too many times now that I trust it won't ever fully go away, but the impermanence, the constant changing I still feel in my brain riles up storms of doubt in my mind and similar insecurities as in my youth. It's confusing, I find myself constantly obsessing, researching and researching and looking through forums and websites and blogs and videos to find one definitive piece of proof, that silver bullet to finally click it all into place and allow me to say "Yes! I am trans! I see it now, I've always been this way, this is a permanent aspect of who I am, it's undeniable." The truth is though, such a moment will never come; I don't have obvious physical or biochemical dysphoric signs that would erase all possible doubt to the source of all of this, and if I do, there are enough plausible alternative explanations to discount their relatedness to gender. Like, I haaaate my facial hair, but that is not an uncommon cis male experience. I really dislike my very muscular/masculine leg shape, but that could easily just be a bodily insecurity, nothing to do with gender presentation. So again, I don't really know if I'm trans, the only certainty is that I have this pattern of recurring thoughts about wanting to be a woman throughout my life. It often times feels more like a ghost which haunts my mind, nostalgia for a life never lived as I imagine all the things that could be different and all the things I missed out on, simply by losing a 50/50 coin toss at birth. It's a mourning of the past on one side, a feeling of dread at each passing second on the other. I think as these voices grow louder and start screaming, it is best to at least start to experimenting. There is no "second life" in which I get to live out who I want to be, there's only this one.
If you reached this point, hopefully this was an interesting viewpoint into the life of a complete stranger's life :). If you are having similar thoughts or experiences, hopefully I can also help you feel like there's other ppl like u. you're definitely not alone. have a good night <3
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not-bcring · 10 months ago
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The scene opens up on a grand throne, ornately crafted golden frame with red velvet seats. Daisuke sits upon the throne with a devil-may-care expression plastered to his face. He adorned official-looking royal guard, complete with a crown and a shoulder cape. Upon seeing the camera had turned on, a smirk found itself on his face before he addressed a non-existant audience. "Greetings, Kingdom of Araya. I am Prince Daisuke of Yume, and I'm addressing you all today to let you know there's been a little change of management around here. But you don't have to take it from me," he announced, ending his statement by motioning to Ayumu standing off set. ( Gift for your pink brat. ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @ncughty-uwu 」 ˙ ˖ ✧
「 ☆ 」 Ayumu had been eager to try out this scene since Daisuke first propositioned it—his boyfriend has the most wonderfully creative and filthy imagination —the videographer slipping into daydreams whilst in the middle of work. Contemplating how he wanted to play his character. Would he be sheepish and subdued? The poor fallen Prince of a recently conquered kingdom. While it goes against his nature, it can be fun to indulge in a more demure demeanor. Especially when about to be corrupted by a dominant force... But perhaps he should be more combative and cocky?
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With his head still held high and expectations of somehow reclaiming his rightful place. Even if he must first face insurmountable odds... as well as the firm and teasing hand of a new ruler. The simulated humiliation would be delicious. Unraveling before an imaginary audience of his subjects, brought to his knees before the ruthless tyrant who invaded his home. Going from brattish to potentially begging... What can Ayumu say? He's not immune to the allure of acting. Nor is his boyfriend, evident by the ease of which Daisuke slips into the smug role.
When given his cue, Ayumu has made his decision... He can't help but meet that smirk with an equivalent challenge.
Sucking in a steadying breath as he embodies his role, spine is straight and chin is raised as he smoothly enters the scene. Each proud step is accented by the rattle of the chains binding his hands and dragging along the ground. Ayumu wears the symbol of servitude as if it were merely an accessory befitting the Prince he ❛ used to be ❜ . Chosen ensemble is sheer and shameless, barely acting as concealment for the body it's complimenting. Extravagant with its golden-thread embroidery, it hugs his curves and pairs with the ribbons interwoven in his hair; pink locks done up in messy buns for the occasion.
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Sparing a brief glance at the camera as if regarding his former subjects, expression doesn't change from regally dismissive. Paying no mind to having been adorned as though a prize for the victorious Prince of Yume, the defeated Prince of Araya beholds the man perched upon his throne. ❝ I suggest you enjoy this while you can... because you won't be on that throne for long. Besides— ❞ A cheeky smirk takes the place of indifference, dare-say flirtatious as Ayumu lets his eyes flit up and down Daisuke's royal form, only to brattily declare, ❝ It doesn't suit you. ❞ 「 ☆ 」
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avirtualdrive · 11 months ago
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Sorry in advance.
I'm drafting this up and adding onto it whenever I want to say something until I get self conscious and hit post.
Anyway, I love Levi. Everyone already knows this.
I created Lazarus and made him the way I did because a large part of his whole struggle with masking is based directly off of my own issues. I've always felt the need to repress my excitement and to avoid coming off TOO strong about the stuff I like, because I got made fun of badly, by both friends and my dad alike
I figured it was easier to just not say anything. I still struggle with talking about my interests without having the lingering fear that I'll be mocked for whatever I say. But I want to. To be more honest, I mean. So I'm doing all this
It was kind of cool, seeing a character that basically is super similar to me interests-wise except FAR more open about his cringe... and is intended to be, like, a LOVE INTEREST. I didn't really think people could find those sorts of traits loveable. But I found it all very endearing on her. It made me think about myself more.
I was kind of jealous actually. Yes of the 2D character sorry I'm sure he would find that very funny though. But I envied her ability to keep talking and not care if other people were obviously annoyed by him. I look up to him for that... All these years later and I still struggle with it but I want to try harder. I need to embody the spirit of Leviachan. She's motivated me to feel less ashamed of myself. Thanks!
It's raining here. Since he can control water and it's mentioned in canon that he's caused storms and stuff before, every time it rains, I think of it like her saying hi. Especially at work. But if I'm at home, I like to go outside and sit on the porch (there's a roof, so I stay dry) - it's like we're spending time together. It's cold out when it rains, but I feel so warm thinking about her
I want to call him all kinds of sweet names and praise her for her talents just to watch his face light up and observe his expressions as he goes back and forth between being really happy and rejecting the idea that someone could think so highly of him. I do, though. I'm being honest!!!
Cosplayer that makes most of his outfits himself, game developer, coder, artist, a pro-level gamer, she can sing, she can dance, probably a lot more eluding my mind somehow but point is she's good at so many things how does he not see how impressive he is...........
Speaking of singing her brothers mention they don't like going to karaoke with him because he sings for hours at a time. I think you are all of weak character I would sit and listen to her beautiful voice for as long as she was willing to sing
I love you no thoughts just I love you
Lie down in my front yard with me we can lay a blanket on top of the grass I want to watch the clouds
I'm usually averse to kissing, largely because of OCD germ fear related reasons, but I always think about kissing her. Her lips are probably not that soft - chapped, for sure, probably bites them a whole lot from worrying too much or from trying to rein in his envy - but that's fine by me. She'd apologize for it, though. I know.
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Be quiet. I love you even if you don't know what you're doing. I don't know what I'm doing either.
I want to lay on top of her while we're in her bathtub bed and she's in his demon form so I can gently (very, very lightly) trace over his scales with my fingertips. Do we think she'd be ticklish? I think he'd be ticklish. Just a little bit, because I want to hear quietly giggling in the dark.
Laying on top of her... ah, her heartbeat... he's alive. Has been living for far longer than I have. One of her older brothers says he's like 10 million years old, and surely he can't be THAT far behind, so... Just how long ago were you born? I'm happy you were. But for real, how old ARE you?
Humans live significantly shorter lives. It's sad. Despite that, I would want to spend mine with her. I wonder if I would ever have any major impact on her life the way he has mine
I remember, once, when I was much younger and in the Girl Scouts and on what was basically a field trip out to a city where we played this one live-action magic roleplay game. My wand from there was broken by my little sister a long time ago, but I could always just get another one if I ever went back there. And I do want to go back (though not to that specific city, because they closed the location) because I think she would really really love to play something like that.
Also, that same city was out on the beach. I remember while we were there early in the morning I caught a jellyfish in a cup and thought it was the coolest thing I'd ever seen. I think I really fell in love with jellyfish after that. I would draw them all over my notebook pages til there was no more space. And now there's Levi, with jellyfish in her room and the jellyfish inspired aquarium outfit.
I really do think a lot of things in my life were destined
I love you
No more, actually
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jaennwrites · 2 years ago
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Stain Them. I Don't Care.
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Hi guys it been a long time and although this isn't my comeback I just felt in the writing spirit. I will try my best to write stuff but the truth is y'all my attention span has been gone since TLOU (HBO) ended. However, I'm trading in fortnite videos (jonesyXreader coming soon ofc) for Peaky Blinders. I'm on S2 E2 so this little blurb doesn't have much show lore but I love Tommy, I'm a Cillian Murphy fangirl and I love a good dangerous man who gets soft and obsessed for their women. Anyways let me actually shut up.
Word Count: 1,410 Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Fem Reader (fairly gender neutral but reader is referred to as a wife), Established Relationship (married :3). Warnings: Blood, Mentions of Gun and shooting, Character (you) death. Completely SFW.
All interactions greatly appreciated, hope I can find the motivation to write more, thx guyzers <3
Tommy Shelby was an interesting man, it was even more interesting that he devoted himself to someone like you. It wasn’t an insulting thing, it’s just that many people didn’t understand Tommy’s obsession with this ordinary woman. The circumstances of your meeting was a kept secret of course but as everyone knew, you weren’t a whore, or spy, or other gang’s  daughter or wife, you were just you.
So when Tommy got off of his stressful often bloody days just to see you either sitting peacefully or cooking something, it made him happy. When people had the stupidity to question why Tommy was with you, he’d simply respond with his usual menacing stare. Sure, he didn’t run around town boasting about his wife but you knew he felt prideful when he was with you. Especially when he could bring you around people he considered enemies, you were his walking proof that he could attain and be acquainted with good people. 
The true ‘fuck you’ to those who didn’t know peace for Tommy Shelby had the embodiment of it right by his side always. 
Your head perked up at the sound of the front door smiling as you saw Tommy tiredly walk through the door. You often spent chunks of time waiting for him, more recently than ever before. Thomas Shelby by no means was an open man, but he always allowed himself to be vulnerable with you, he could never not when it came to you. 
Being around you felt like an adrenaline rush that never ended; from the day he first saw you to the day he asked you to marry him. Everything about you made him nervous and scared; he somehow couldn’t rest peacefully with you in his life yet his time with you was more peaceful than he had ever known. 
“You look wide awake” You joked resting your head on the back of the couch.
“Funny” He smiled, a smile that couldn’t fade as long as you were there smiling back at him. 
You rested your head on his shoulder and looked at his bruised hands before squeezing them tightly with a smile. Tommy no doubt carried a lot of baggage into the relationship. On an almost agonizing constant loop you could still vividly picture the first death at the hands of Tommy that you had witnessed. Although he’d never tell you, he remembered it too, the guilt ate him alive everyday. The way you looked at him that day made him physically sick. When you agreed to see him again after that, the look was gone but he’d never forget it. 
“How has everything been?” “Business wise” You asked. 
“It’s getting better” He reassured.
“So can I come with you tomorrow? To the Garrison”
“Would you not prefer to sit here? Safely” Tommy teased.
You rolled your eyes unseriously knowing that simple gesture alone would be enough to convince him. Tommy often had a problem saying no to you, it was chronic at this point. There were times he was a little more resistant but eventually he’d break, just for you. Partly because he trusted your judgment, and you never asked for anything insane. You two were in many ways polar opposites but the borderline paranoid danger/bullshit meter you shared were identical, he trusted you.
“Fine” “Didn’t know you loved my boring meetings” He joked
Your nights consisted of you two sitting sometimes doing some light drinking but for the most part you just enjoyed each other’s company. No matter what Tommy went through during his day, to be able to come home to you or come home with you was his cure all. It scared him to death how much he loved you, some nights it was all he could think of, the fear and happiness you produced. 
Then the morning would come and that feeling would be a distant memory because you’d still always be there. This morning was no different, he woke up right next to you, your sleeping face somehow even more beautiful than when you both fell asleep. Tommy was not a man who was very vocal about his affections but his eyes never lied. You could melt into a puddle whenever he looked at you, when he looked at you it was as if someone had captured love, melted it and injected it into your veins. 
That morning Tommy fulfilled his promise and you happily came along with him to his meeting, you didn’t want to admit that it was indeed boring but god you were bored. These weren’t his sly threat here, sly threat there meetings, just simple boring money managing. 
“This is boring” You whispered, eliciting a smile from your husband before excusing yourself into the main portion of the bar.
However the bar also bore you, a bunch of men drinking all of them too afraid to even glance in your direction. Tommy had planned to be done with this meeting by now but unfortunately it seemed to be taking longer and longer. He sat letting his mind wander a little as the time felt slower and slower while your eyes searched for something to keep you busy. 
Tommy had a big dislike for you walking alone and you understood dislike, however simply standing outside of the bar surely was a loophole. The smell of alcohol was weirdly insufferable today so without a second thought you headed for the front door, opening the one and then the second. 
You hadn’t noticed for the first few seconds, but the wet feeling rapidly spreading from your chest pulled you into the dark reality. You looked up at the gunman to see a face full of regret, from that look alone clearly you weren’t the target
Your husband was. 
The gunman had been young, clearly trigger happy but nevertheless a wonderful shot because by the time your body fell back you were gone. Tommy practically had leaped over the table at the sound. As he opened the door to his private room his eyes scanned the bar full of equally worried faces but had yet to see yours. 
The commotion coming from the front door prompted him to quickly check and confirm the nightmare he had been dreading since the day he first met you. The guttural shout he let out quieted the entire street, anyone moving stopped, anyone working stopped, the entire world seemed to stop. 
Tommy couldn’t remember the last time his hands shook at the sight of a dead body. His shaky hand intertwined with your lifeless one and his arm wrapped securely around your neck. He pulled your body close to his chest, the still fresh blood now soaking into his suit. Nobody around dared to move, hell not even breathe for it would only be a reminder that you couldn’t.
Thomas Shelby sat in that doorway for hours, whispering various pleas and prayers to Gods he didn’t even believe in. Soon enough his family convinced him to allow your body to be taken and for everything to be cleaned up. 
The wedding ring that was removed from your finger felt like it weighed pounds as it moved in his pocket. All that movement just to bring him to an even harsher reality as he stood in front of your shared home. He sat on the front steps for a while, it rained, drunk men passed, various things passed and he sat not daring to move a muscle. 
When Tommy finally made it into the house his heart felt as if it was attempting to break out of his chest. His eyes watered as he slowly shuffled over to your side of the bed falling to his knees beside it. Slowly his head descended before resting into blankets that filled his senses of nothing but you. The sheets smelled of you, the feeling of the blankets brought back every lovely memory of you. 
Thomas Shelby couldn’t remember the last time he cried, like really truly cried. Quite frankly he couldn’t remember anything in this state. A place that once was home to your laughter and voice was now full of the muffled sobs of your husband. 
Tommy’s hands held his blood soaked chest wishing that he had covered himself in your blood. He prayed it would stain every item of clothing he owned, stain his hands, his face so that he could never be without you. 
"I fear to stain your clothes with blood" "Stain them, I don't care"
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ephemerensis · 2 years ago
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To You; February // Bakugou Katsuki x GN! Reader
ya new character 4 me ik,, anyways this is formatted as a love? letter/ monologue from katsuki 2 u! no pronouns or physical descriptions just… a lot of rambling. pretend ur birthday is the day after valentines pls </3 u can argue that it’s out of character but i disagree 🤨☝️ not proofread as always xoxo love yall
Something about February has always invoked in me a sense of docility.
It doesn’t make sense.
I have coined myself as an embodiment of passion and rage and discontent. It's against my nature to feel so calm.
I wouldn’t go as far as to say something stupid, like the love of the season settles onto me. I have sought none and I seek none. I’ve never had the desire. Love isn’t real; at least not the way it’s made out to be.
They make it seem so trivial. As if to be with someone defines it. I see in them, the fear of being alone and the fight for having someone over intertwining with someone. It’s almost melancholic. It’s completely idiotic. I reject every suitor in my path.
I don’t care for public displays of affection. I never have. Only morons need to parade around something so vulnerable like it’s a show. I care even less for sweet nothings. There are so few words that ever carry meaning anymore. How could a person be in love without ever presenting everything they are to the other? They mean nothing when they claim that my eyes are the most dazzling they’ve ever seen. Or maybe those idiots do mean it, everything glimmers if you squint. They see it without seeing me. If it were real, it would be too raw to be spoken. It would be whispered like a prayer. To salvage it from being stolen, or worse, remade and copied and sold until everyone has it. It becomes nothing.
At the very least, if I’m going to vocalize the most susceptible, intimate parts of me it should rivet through your soul and be yours alone.
Yet paradoxically, Valentine’s is my favorite holiday. I find myself more tolerant. Sometimes I’m even happy for them, because despite the intentions and deceit and falsehoods and inflations of avoiding a fear— at the very least they have succeeded. I find myself happy. Maybe it is something stupid. I’ve never had nor wanted another person, but I once had a soul shattering inkling of you.
Of course, we weren’t together then. We were never together. But we were never friends. Stuck somewhere on the cusp of both and yet impossibly far away from either. And somehow still, in that platonic complacency you managed to breathe an innate sense of comfort into me. It’s like my persona was unfired clay, I crumble to you. Your words meant nothing, but when you called me dumb I couldn’t have been more irrevocably enamored. I found myself content. Like a moment of clarity in the midst of noise. Especially, on a day I so often found to be profane. But I can hardly justify my favoritism through the confines of contentment alone. It’s too ordinary.
That’s not to degrade contentedness. It’s a peace I spend my longer days pining for. Above joy, it is ecstasy to know the permanent renderings of contentment.
But I would be lying to say it’s the only reason. Really, it's something more technical. The day after, forever and inevitably, was always your birthday. When you first told me, I said it was unfortunate. Who would want to celebrate with you when the world was too caught up in the whims of chocolate coated affections. But you said you didn’t care, validation never meant so much to you. That congealed loneliness I so often expected you to feel doesn’t exist. I know that now. As if anyone else ever mattered in our lives, yours and mine.
It was then I began waiting for Valentine’s Day. I looked forward to it. There was a time when I even pined for it to end, because it was a permanent, promised excuse to talk to you. We spoke so often but every sentence we’d exchanged always entranced me. You still do. But February especially was always yours.
It became my favorite holiday to justify all that. Then it became less about you. Half because I was never vocal about my feelings, and half because I grew too fond of platonic complacency. Until I did believe it was my favorite. It’s true now— although I’m not sure it was ever really a lie. I think somewhere in my mind I equated the two.
For the first time in years, I almost forgot your birthday. If you didn’t text me the day prior, I might’ve. But that contentment you stirred in me perpetually rolls in with the month, with or without your presence. It is yours. I don’t believe in love, but I can’t deny I do love you. You have bewitched my soul. That calm, content forever. A promise of nothing. We were never meant to be together, and I love you.
likes and reshares appreciated !
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curseofthebloodcountess · 2 years ago
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We are either one session or one session and an epilogue away from finishing the campaign I've been DMing since December 2021. I've spent a lot of time eager for my next campaign and wanting to just be done with the current game.
And then last night, I did something I should have been doing all along. I took my anxiety meds before, not during, the game. There was laughter, sincerity, and mortal peril. Strahd and Patrina were eerily the calm before the storm, the PCs gave passionate speeches and came up with insane plans to fight, the resurrected Dusk Elves took a very wounded Rahadin as a willing hostage, and the party is now spending the night in the Amber Temple "under Patrina’s protection"... and at dawn, they will fight the Dark Powers with a few wrenches in the works. If they win, there will be a glorious ending and an opportunity for the PCs and for me to give an epilogue, maybe hint at a future, wider Ravenloft campaign.
But... what if they fail?
I worry that after a year and a half of the game, the final battle can and will be a struggle. It isn't unwinnable, but it is the most challenging thing I'll have thrown at them. I have faith in my players. I don't have faith that I balanced things right.
Even if they win (when they win), I worry it's finally going to hit me in full force that this is some kind of goodbye. I confessed that I had tried to kill Rahadin in the Amber Temple (and other times before) but also that I realized that killing him would be killing my players' evidence of the good they've done. They've healed this man and become a family. He's become better for them and for his and Scout's unborn children. He's made friends and has come to care about people in a way he thought he couldn't since Sergei's death. In turn, they have changed Strahd in such a way that I know if I do the final battle right, it will hurt. If they defeat the Dark Powers, there will be huge wins and some losses. It will be bittersweet and beautiful and it will let them reunite their families and create the homes they've made with the people they love.
But how do you say goodbye to those characters? I would love to embark on a pan-Shadowfell/Ravenloft campaign with these characters but I don't have the time or the plans in place. We are about to embark on another "Curse of Strahd" game with some other friends. My players will have new PCs. I will be playing the CoS cast again, which is somehow harder than I thought. I feel as if operating Rahadin without Scout will be taking away an arm, a leg, a lung, his heart from him. I feel that Strahd is getting such a makeover that she (the next one is a woman) will have a new lease on life. What of the others? I've embodied a hundred NPCs for a year and a half and to reinvent them, relearn them, feels sharp and scary. Who are they when we take them back to Ground Zero? It gives me a chance to do justice to characters I struggled with the first time, like Ismark, the baron, Anastrasya, and the Wachters. But what about the ones I got so right that I don't know who they'd be if they were any other way? What about my Victor Vallakoviches, my Father Lucians, my Ez D'Avenirs, and most especially my Rahadins?
I'm crying as I write this. Quietly. I'm trying not to wake my girlfriend, who has played an amazing cleric and an amazing paladin for this campaign. She held me last night when it first hit me how sad I am. I'm grateful.
I don't know why it's so different with this game ending than it has been when Kid Strahd ends at the end of a school year. (I do, I do. Kid Strahd is always meant to end, always meant to be a little ridiculous. This was such an earnest labor of love). I'm not ready. I have to be. I don't know that I can ever be as good a DM. I have to be better. I may never have the same intimacy of a three-person party again. It will be okay.
How do other DMs handle this moment when they see the end in sight and it no longer looks like a finish line, but a sudden drop into some kind of creative death? How do you pick up and run the same module with a twist without feeling the phantom of your past self following your every move?
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exovapor · 4 years ago
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I'm OBSESSED with your writing. Can you try.. Maybe, Donnie being a filthy boy being an 'stalker-ish' of his long time crush? Be checks their FB for new posts, saves every picture of them he finds? He doesn't mean to be a creep, feels guilty, but just doesn't know how to ask for more than friendship?
Good afternoon Anon. Here is my short story in relation to your ask.
I wasn't sure where you wanted me to take this, so I had to do a bit of guessing on my part. I hope this something like you were wanting.
I will admit that this ask was a bit of a struggle for me, not knowing a clear direction to take it outcome made me a little unsure of my writing and guessing abilities LOL. However, I will admit to crying along with the characters in this story more than once.
Thanks again for the ask and the initial compliment. I hope to continue to earn your favor in future posts.
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· Stalker [noun]: 1a person who harasses or persecutes someone with unwanted and obsessive attention. 2a person who hunts game stealthily.
· Donnie stared at the definition on his one of his monitor screens while his various other screens were busy flashing receipts of files downloaded, text trail streams from your phone, notices of any social media post/update/like/heart/emoji, a GPS line grid of your routes today (overlayed over the routes you’d taken previously), and data search hits of anything and everything that pertained to you.
· At this point, the boy had literally every picture you had ever posted, anywhere, of yourself. In fact, he had all the pictures that other people posted of you in them. He had even gone through the effort of designing a face recognition program that picks you out of the background of total strangers’ pictures and, yeah, he had those in a file too.
· He has special file folders that compile things that you like, things you don’t like, things that make you happy, things that make you sad. He is your own personal Pinterest and you didn’t even know it… and maybe that is the part that keeps bothering him so much.
· He sits staring at that word and definition and chewing his bottom lip. True, he knows the word and the meaning, but he needed to LOOK at it, analyze it, mull it over in his guilt ridden brain.
· He just KNEW the word Stalker couldn’t apply to him.
· After all, he isn’t harassing or persecuting you, you don’t know! So, it isn’t necessarily ‘unwanted attention’. It is just…unknown attention.
· Stealthily, hmmmm, did that part apply to him? Well, He isn’t EXACTLY being stealthy.
· If you knew about technology like him, then you would probably see his programs running on your devices and be alerted to his activities. AND, if you shared his love and view of technology, then you would probably be more understanding of his activities and not consider them stealthy…just data mining. In fact, you might applaud him.
· ‘Ok, that was taking it a bit too far’, Donnie thinks to himself and he feels a band tighten and squeeze around his infatuated heart.
· He is almost certain that you would be shocked to learn of his extra curricular activities and how they revolve around every aspect of you.
· Regardless of how he tried to spin the truth and wiggle out of the definition of stalker, Donnie still felt guilty for invading your privacy. However, he honestly couldn’t help himself…at least not anymore.
· He has fought the urge, the nagging thoughts and the burning need, to know more about you for what seemed like an eternity.
· Listen to him, he is starting to sound dramatic like Mikey! What is his turning into? He is losing his rational edge!
· To be accurate, it hasn’t been an eternity. In fact, he has known you 1 year, 36 days, 14 hours, 11 minutes, and 23 seconds to be exact. However, you started occupying space in his mind 2 minutes into meeting you and your claim over his mind has grown exponentially over time.
· You were quiet and reserved during that first meeting, so there wasn’t much to go on. It started as a simple visual interest with a thought of ‘Oh. She’s pretty’.
· However, then you started talking and that changed everything.
· You opened up more and more each time you hung out with their little group, revealing layers and layers of interests and personality. You were fascinating…and that’s when his thoughts about you really started to snowball and spiral out of control.
· You went from being a simple pretty face to being a walking embodiment of everything he seriously ever dreamed of having in a mate.
· Early on, there were three sticking points that really made Donnie’s feelings problematic. 1. He was a nearly seven foot tall walking talking turtle and you weren’t. 2. You had a boyfriend that you were deeply in love with and adored. 3. Donnie was too insecure about #1 and how you felt about inter-species dating to let you know that you had started to OWN his heart.
· Now, thanks to his surveillance, there were only two sticking points….#1 and #3.
· He still remembers the feelings of that day, 44 days ago, when the blip of information popped up on this screen alerting him to the fact that your boyfriend was starting to stray.
· Donnie had severely conflicting feelings bombard him at once and it was overwhelming.
· The initial knee jerk reaction was elation, one of the problems blocking him from you may soon be null.
· However, the feeling of elation only lasted for a second or two before the intense anger and sadness set in. Donnie was honestly shocked at the depth of his anger, he didn’t even know he had that level of malice in him. Had he been in physical proximity to your boyfriend at that moment in time, Donnie isn’t sure that he wouldn’t have hurt your guy…or worse.
· How COULD this guy do this? WHY would he? He HAD YOU! What the heck was this guy thinking? Not only did he have you, but you thought the world of him. When you spoke about him you would smile so genuinely, your eyes would shine and gaze off into a bright imagined future. Donnie was always so jealous to watch it happen, he wondered what it would be like to be THAT GUY. And here the idiot was throwing it all away and meeting up with another girl!
· WHAT THE…(yes, this called for a curse) HELL…IS WRONG WITH HUMAN MEN?
· As the anger set root in his heart, the sadness engulfed Donnie like an all-consuming wave. He realized he was going to have to share this information with you, somehow, and that he was going to have to watch as it destroyed you.
· At first, Donnie had a plan to try and save you both from that fate. True, it would hurt him more to save your relationship, but he would rather be the one facing the pain and not you.
· He TRIED to circumvent the situation. He sent anonymous messages to your boyfriend stating that he knew about the infidelity and that he would tell you if needed. However, it didn’t seem like your boyfriend cared because he sent messages back stating Donnie could, basically, go fuck himself.
· Life had cruel sense of irony, thought Donnie, that is exactly what I do since this moron has the woman that I love.
· So, after trying for nearly two weeks to stop what was happening behind your back, Donnie had no choice but to let you in on the secret.
· Donnie couldn’t come right out and tell you that he caught your boyfriend cheating by hijacking your data streams and the data streams of those around you. So, Donnie intercepted some texts between your boyfriend and his mistress and he then sent you a text, under the guise of your boyfriend, telling you to meet him at a specified restaurant for a date.
· It had been a gut wrenching night for Donnie. He remembered watching it all play out on camera feeds from around the restaurant and street outside. He watched you dressed up in your pretty dress get out of your cab in front of the restaurant. You had such a lovely smile on your face, you must have thought you were in for a romantic evening.
· He watched as you walked inside and how the hostess got flustered and confused by a 2nd girl showing up for your boyfriend’s seated-for-two table.
· Donnie stopped breathing as your eyes found the new couple holding hands and giving each other sweet kisses across the table. Hands and lips that were supposed to be yours were touching some stranger.
· Donnie watched your smile and eyes die…the light of your inner sun go out…
· …and it killed him.
· He’s not sure who was crying the hardest, you standing there in that restaurant witnessing the scene or him back at the lair watching your world crush around you on his monitor.
· It had taken a while for you both to recover from that night.
· His brothers noticed his melancholy mood for a couple of weeks but Donnie wouldn’t tell them what was bothering him. And you stayed in your bed, refusing to face the world, for nearly as long.
· Eventually, the group began to notice your silence and absence, so April stopped by your apartment to check on you. She was the one to pull you out of bed, get you to shower and eat. She visited everyday and made sure you had someone to vent to and a shoulder to cry on.
· Donnie was glad that April could be there for you when he couldn’t. He didn’t think it was appropriate for him, a male, to be your confidant at that time. Especially since he felt so much guilt over having to be the one to expose you to that pain.
· No, he didn’t CAUSE the pain, but he did have to make you face it and he didn’t like not being able to protect you from it. You were such a rare, precious creature and watching you in pain felt like he was suffocating slowly.
· There were some points during those first few weeks that he questioned if he did the right thing, but logic told him it would have eventually come to pass with or without his involvement. It was better to rip the bandage of quickly and let you start to heal than it was to let you linger and drag out the inevitable.
· Donnie did secretly check on you every single night during patrol. And, of course, his surveillance feeds were always running. He watched from a distance as his beautiful phoenix burn down to ashes and, eventually, started to rise again.
· Now, it’s been over 3 months and you’ve begun to be more like your old self. Donnie can tell there is a silent sadness there, but you are able to laugh and smile with the group during your get togethers. And each time you two are left alone, his mind nags at him about those last two sticking points.
· Would you be at all interested in him? And HOW does he go about telling you that you have become the center of his world?
· Still staring at the monitor and the Stalker definition, Donnie sighs and rubs the bridge of his snout to release of the pressure now pushing against the inside of his head. The memories of what has happened, the emotions of what was and what is, it was all starting to be too much.
· “Bro, what’s all this?”, Mikey says standing behind Donnie’s chair, talking around a mouth full of pizza.
· “NOTHING!”, says Donnie, voice breaking from the stress of being caught. A startled Donnie quickly taps some keys on his keyboard and the screens revert back to the standard lair camera feeds.
· Mikey may look or even come off as naïve at times, but he’s no fool, he can sense that his older brother is trying to hide something. “Dude, seriously, what was that? I’ve been standing back here reading the screens. I saw Y/N’s name and that looked like her phone number on that other file…, you know the file that looks like texts messages. And why is there a plotted map of the area around her apartment, her work, and to the lair? What’s up?”, Mikey said giving a disapproving look at being thought a pushover.
· “Just standard surveillance, Mikey, nothing to worry about.”, Donnie says trying to placate Mikey’s curiosity. Donnie hates lying, especially to Mikey, but he’s feeling so guilty about being such a…(inward sigh)…stalking creep that admitting the truth is hard to do.
· Mikey stands there staring at Donnie and, as he does, Donnie begins to fidget with his computer chair armrests.
· Mikey stuffs the remnants of the pizza slice into his mouth and does his best Leo impersonation by crosses his arms and staring down at Donnie as sternly as his jolly face can achieve, “Dude, I’m not going to ask you again. You’ve been weird for months. We’ve let it go for the most part but now you are hiding things from me…from ME, dude! You and I, we’re like peanut butter and jelly, we’re ice cream and chocolate fudge, we young dudes have got to stick together. Trust me, bro, I’ve got you!”.
· Donnie stared at the floor, too ashamed to meet Mikey’s eyes any longer. He gave a heavy sigh and reluctantly started to speak, “Sorry Mike, I…I honestly don’t know what’s come over me lately. I’m doing things I never thought I would do, I’m feeling so guilty about it, but I don’t know if I can stop doing it either. I feel…lost.”.
· Mike relaxed his leader stance and leaned against one of Donnie’s lab tables, “Bro, I can tell you’ve been carrying some heavy stuff lately. You need to let it out.”
· Donnie felt the heat rise up through his body like he was suddenly being consumed by a fire and he ripped his glasses off his face and drew them down on the desk in frustration, “Mikey, I’m in love with Y/N. I have been for a while. I have been…”, Donnie hangs his head in shame, “…tracking all her digital foot prints and watching her. In fact, I’m the reason she found out that asshole boyfriend of her's cheated.”
· Mikey’s mouth drops open at Donnie’s demeanor and use of the word ‘asshole’, “Whoa, dude, why didn’t you say something earlier?”.
· Donnie can feel a stinging at the corners of his eyes, this was so embarrassing, so frustrating, so…..so many things at a once. He didn’t have a response for Mikey, all he could do was shake his head.
· Still with his head hung down and staring at the floor, Donnie starts to hear Mikey chuckle. Donnie looks up to see Mikey’s eyes on him and for some reason they are full of merriment at his painful dilemma. Donnie stares at his, normally, very considerate brother in astonishment, this isn’t like Mikey at all!
· “Mikey, I’m more than serious here, now is not the time to make fun of me. What is so funny?”, Donnie asks exasperatedly.
· Mikey shakes his bald head and claps his brother on the shoulder with his green hand, “Bro, she thinks you’re cute.”.
· “W-What?!”, Donnie stammers out.
· Mikey, still chuckling, says, “Yeah, dude, that’s why I asked WHY you didn’t say something about liking her sooner, she’s always thought you were cute. She and I talk about it all the time.”.
· Donnie just stares at his jolly brother in silence. His mind is too blown to form a sentence.
· Mikey turns to leave stating, “And by the way, dude, stop watching her like that…that’s just creepy.”.
@turtle-babe83 @tmntspidergirl @kokokatsworld @nittleboo @the-second-circle-of-shell
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djarinsbeskar · 4 years ago
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PREQUEL ARC: PART 2 - THE HOUK
A/N: Part 2 is here! First and foremost, can I just say thank you so much for the reception Part 1 received and to those who (gasps!) actually want me to tag them for updates??? I don’t know how to react??? I’m so touched??????? It’s so motivating and has reminded me why I love sharing my scribbles!
There’s a greater focus on world/character building in this chapter so if it feels a bit rambling or description heavy, I do apologise! Like I said, I’m trying to build some context to the reader-insert before we get to the smut, and I hope that I’ve kept her general enough that she doesn’t cross the line too much into OC territory and becomes unrelatable. As always, constructive criticism is welcome! My style of writing leaves much to be desired so I would love to know if something doesn’t make sense so I can improve and fix it. But enough of that, on with the show!
Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader
Word Count: 5.2k
Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)
Warnings: Language and slight injury detail.
Plot: You encounter Mando suffering one misfortune after another.
AO3 | Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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8 ABY, Mynock, Dandoran.
The second time you met him, he had dislocated his shoulder after a nasty clash with a Houk.
Your dealing with the Mandalorian on Klatooine had moved to the back of your mind and you rarely, if ever, thought about it. It was merely another encounter with a rough character that needed some medical attention. You wouldn’t have been able to hazard a guess at how many similar characters you saw in a week while you worked at the clinic. Even more so when you’d left Klatooine after becoming disillusioned that the New Republic were actually trying to make a difference.
You had heard stories from the Core and Mid Rim planets. Stories of the investment and progress being made to rebuild after the tyranny of the Empire, of the billions of credits being poured into the development of new ship building centers on Corellia and large, extravagant residencies for government members on Coruscant. Things, you were sure, that were not actually urgent necessities as they were desires. Especially given that the funds you received from that same government to sustain the clinic thinned before drying up completely a few months after your encounter with the Mandalorian.
…Hemorrhaging more credits than is justified for the benefits we’re seeing in return.
The busybody politician with a colorful title and even more colorful robes waxed poetically, hiding the sentiment of disinterest in ways only a politician could. Half-heartedly trying to distract you by his explanations with empty praise and gratitude for your service during the Rebellion and your humanitarian work now, a true embodiment of what the New Republic stands for. He crowed like the colorful bird he looked like, dressed as he was with fine feathers lining the lapels of his robes.
You bristle at the memory of the hologram’s eyes flickering to look at anything besides you, running down the time you had spent weeks trying to get.
That was when the memory of the Mandalorian surfaced, surprisingly. How the day after you treated him you arrived at the medical center and saw  a familiar pouch of credits sitting innocently behind the check-in desk. When you enquired with the receptionist, she told you it was sitting there once she opened up earlier that morning. The only note left being on one of the datapads behind the desk, the scrawling font reading; to help with your work. You had let out a chuckle to yourself as you checked your schedule, wondering if the brutish male you had treated last night really was as cold as he portrayed himself to be.
The memory had incited a righteous anger that a bounty hunter was more willing to support a voluntary clinic than the government that set it up in the first place was.
I thought the Empire were the ones who put a credit limit on what a life is worth. You had hissed in return, interrupting what you were sure was a well-rehearsed and well used speech, before hanging up. You pressed the heel of your hands into your eyes, taking a shuddering breath as you tried not to be nihilistic in thinking that you had spent nearly half your life thinking you could make a difference, when, you were just serving the Empire in different clothing.
It wasn’t a fair comparison; you knew the New Republic was neither as cruel nor as tyrannical and oppressive as it’s predecessor, but you had been made so dreadfully aware that in places like the Outer Rim, people would always be overlooked by those in power because they simply didn’t offer enough to be worth looking at.
The realization was a raw wound to your soul. You had lost brothers and friends to the fight for liberation, but it didn’t seem as though the grass was much greener on the other side. Maybe elsewhere in the galaxy it was, but where you were needed most, the grass was dehydrated and dying under the relentless sun.
With the clinic penniless, your meagre pension from the Rebellion was not nearly enough to keep it functioning. Add to that the reluctance of the other medics to run the clinic alongside you out of their own pocket and the intergalactic beacon for medical aid that alerted anyone in the parsec of where to go being disengaged, traffic stopped. The native Klatooinians preferred their own healers and very rarely, if ever, sought out medics from the New Republic.
For the first time in your life, your path wasn’t clear. If you even had a path anymore.
That was how you found yourself on Dandoran, flying off a week after the last of the medics left Derelkann to the first planet that was habitable to humans. But by the Maker, it was even rougher than Klatooine. The temperate climate and lush greenery were more comfortable for you, but the city you found yourself in, Mynock, was to say the least, undesirable. Having once been Hutt Space, there were still several illegal operations active that kept the city going and you learned early on what areas to avoid and to always carry a blaster with you. But at least where there was activity, there was work for you.
***
You met Biran Sonter the very day you arrived, asking directions to the nearest medical facility, hoping they could use another medic. He was an elderly Mirialan male with a wealth of history behind him, his facial tattoos creased with deep wrinkles and a kindly smile that reminded you of your grandfather.
You were flabbergasted to learn that during the time of the Galactic Republic, he acted as the royal physician to the palace on Naboo.
As you choked on the tea he had kindly made for you at that revelation, you couldn’t ask him quickly enough how he ended up here? On an Outer Rim backwater skughole of a planet and his tale had been sobering. When the Republic first fell, anyone who did not immediately surrender to the rising Empire was terminated. Biran had, at the time, only heard word of the death of the beloved former Queen Amidala and blamed the Empire vehemently. Escaping on one of the last shuttles from the Mid Rim planet before legions of clones descended, he arrived on Dandoran where no one, not even the Hutts cared enough to notice him. All they knew, was that he was an excellent doctor who charged little for his services and kept to himself. That was good enough for them. While he treated a vast number of criminals ranging from thieves to bounty hunters, he was not wholly merciful. He somehow managed to avoid or talk his way out of treating anyone in the organized crime syndicates or known traffickers and killers. It may have gone against a physician’s code to do ones best to save every life, but he like many, made their own code in the Outer Rim.
You fell into a fast and easy friendship with the Mirialan after that, your similar histories of working in the medical field despite being decades apart giving you plenty to talk about. The practice Biran ran in Mynock was always busy and he was only too grateful when you offered to take the weight off his old shoulders and gradually, his clients began to expect to see you most of the day and Biran for a few hours in the early morning. You were never short on work between cantina brawls, accidents and the downright attacks that took place in Mynock and the next eighteen standard months seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, Klatooine a distant memory, as was the Mandalorian you met there.
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The night you saw him again, was no different to any other you spent enjoying a quiet drink before heading back to turn in for the night.
You had been in the process of leaving the cantina, recognizing that the later it grew, the rowdier and aggressive the clientele became. You could handle yourself as well as anyone who made their home in Hutt Space, but you knew better than to be blatantly reckless when you were on your own. It wasn’t like you had the squadron you stayed with throughout the Rebellion for backup as you once did, and your closest ally would probably break in half if you pushed him too hard. So no, you were not staying late with Mynocks newest resident of a Houk warlord and the company he seemed to attract.
The Houk in question was a cruel and belligerent brute, a former local warlord by the name of Gappo Teff. His reputation for inflicting punishment disproportionate to any slight committed against him or the Empire was one of the many echoes of the former imperial rule that was still being felt in the galaxy nearly three years after its collapse.
The stories of the chokehold he held over Sullust would make even a hardened soldier’s stomach churn. How he managed to escape the liberation of the planet without being dragged to the noxious surface of Sullust to suffer for the pain he had caused so many, was a mystery. But there he was, sitting like a king in the cantina you found yourself in, bellowing laughter ricocheting obnoxiously throughout the space, not a care in the world that he was a wanted felon.  
It might have been to do with the fact that he was at least seven and a half foot tall, with a mass that could easily fit three of you side by side across him and still not be seen. It might have been to do with the cold, milky blue of his small eyes, sunk into a skull so large it could probably shatter ribs and rupture organs if one were to be headbutted with it. The last thing anyone wanted was those eyes focusing on them. It could have been the heavy artillery modified blaster he kept laying on his lap; the weapon more of a cannon for those of a more regular stature. Whatever the reason, very few bounty hunters and even fewer New Republic guards came to collect him. He was probably one of the most easily found quarries on all Guild registers and New Republic wanted lists and yet, he languished in Mynock as if the Empire had never fallen and his reign was still assured.
Making your way to the entrance, you came up short as someone walked in, your nose coming abruptly close to a reddish-brown durasteel chest-plate. Taking a step back, your eyes did a double take at the familiar unpainted beskar helmet. Subconsciously, you had stepped to the side, the Mandalorian continuing to walk without a word as if you hadn’t nearly walked into him. Mandalorians were a rare sight these days, so you could be forgiven for staring. Though, you were most likely staring for entirely different reasons compared to everyone else in the cantina.
The armor was the same, if not a bit more worn, as was the dark boiled woolen cape and pulse rifle strapped to his back. But it was the gait; how could someone walk both gracefully and arrogantly, almost cocky in his self-assurance that he was in control wherever he went. It explained why he was so determined not to let his injury be known by his walk the last time you saw him. Because you had seen him before, there was no doubt in your mind that this was the same irritable reek of a Mandalorian you met in Derelkann years ago.
He stood in the middle of the cantina, assessing the place as his helmet scanned the area. If you didn’t know any better, you say he was…
“Oh, you gotta be kidding me.” You muttered to yourself when the helmet stopped on Teff. When you said bounty hunters didn’t bother to come after him, you should have been more specific. Smart bounty hunters didn’t bother hunting Gappo Teff, which explained why the one you knew of was right there looking for him.
A choice lay before you. Leave now and lock your doors until morning… or wait. For what, you couldn’t be sure. But if the Mandalorian wasn’t killed tonight by Teff, he was going to wish he was with the injuries he would probably sustain.
You let your head fall back on your shoulders as you exhaled. Why were you so soft for lost causes and wayward souls?
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The Houks bodyguards left much to be desired, crumbling to the ground before they had even drawn their blasters, smoke rising from the blaster wounds inflicted effortlessly by Din.
The bodyguards weren’t what worried Din. Their boss hardly needed protecting, and he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
The groan and screech of the metal table being shoved away by Teff as he stood to his full height made Din grit his teeth, arms open as he boomed, “Ah Mando, I was wondering when you’d try your luck at me. Your reputation is becoming rather infamous throughout the parsec.”
A guttural, wet laugh left the purple skinned quarry as Din remained silent and kept his blaster aimed. Damn, but the piece of bantha crap was big. He quickly scanned his peripheral, but it seemed the residents of Mynock had more self-interest than to trade blaster fire over one warlord, the barkeep casually making his was into the backroom of the bar to keep out of harms way.
“Why don’t you hang up that Guild work and let me make you a better offer.” Teff boomed, taking a swing of his drink, streams of the yellow fluid running down the sides of him mouth as those frosty eyes stayed trained on the bounty hunter.
Din rolled his eyes behind his helmet; negotiations by the quarry were his least favorite reaction to being caught but he knew better than to think he had captured the colossal male yet. Until Teff was either dead or frozen in carbonite, he was a danger. Luckily, the orders were to bring him in dead or alive. Seems the New Republic were fed up with him still breathing. He couldn’t say he blamed them.
“No?” the Houk pushed when Din didn’t respond, “Too bad, you’d have made an excellent addition to my collection.” And with more speed than Din had anticipated from the large male, he charged.
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You had the good sense to leave the cantina as soon as the first blaster shot was fired, pulling the hood of your dusty grey jacket over your head while you made your way back to the practice to gather a few things. Things that would be completely obsolete if he died but you wouldn’t think that far. You were a realist, not a pessimist. The Houk might have had the advantage of height and sheer strength, but the Mandalorian was quicker, possibly smarter, and decked with enough firepower to make a starfighter pilot drool.
So, you put the odds about sixty forty in favor of the Mandalorian. Not that you would ever tell him that.
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Teff roared in anger as Din rolled out of the way again, shooting his grappling hook to latch onto the Houks shoulder and yanked hard enough to throw the male off balance. Despite his large size however, Teff was able to slide his foot back to catch himself, putting him in direct line with Din.
He was on his feet in no time as the Houk charged at him, lowering his head so that on contact, Din’s left shoulder was thrown back into the wall of the cantina. His breath left him as the impact winded him, a dull but growing pain throbbing from his shoulder before Teff’s vile breath permeated even his helmet and a large hand wrapped around Din’s throat. He could feel his feet leave the floor and the weight of his body pulling downward made the pressure on his windpipe all the heavier.
“Oh well, at least you tried.” Teff gloated, his head leaning closer as if to peer into the visor and that distraction was all Din needed to lift his hand and engage his flamethrower, engulfing the Houk in flames. Din gasped in a breath when he was dropped, the squeals of pain coming from Teff disconcerting as he staggered around the cantina, desperately looking for something to extinguish the inferno his clothing and more vulnerable tissue had become.
Din waited a few more measured breaths before lifting the blaster and shooting the quarry in the vulnerable side of the neck, satisfied with the resounding bang the body made as it fell to the ground, flames still burning bright until he picked up the half-drunk tankard on Teffs table to douse the fire lest he be completely unrecognizable upon delivery.
Din looked around, the cantina was empty; the silence suddenly deafening as he looked back down at the body.
Now, how to get him back to the Razor Crest.
Din sighed.
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“We have to stop meeting like this.”
You held up your hands unsurprised when the Mandalorian spun on the ramp of his ship, blaster raised and aimed right at you. He tilted his head slightly, taking you in and you tried not to fidget under the gaze you could feel raking over you despite not being able to see his eyes. What you could see though, was how limp his left arm was hanging to his side.
“The demon medic from Klatooine.” He muttered, finally placing your face and lowering his blaster slowly while you lowered your arms.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You snorted before nodding to his arm, “And you’ll probably be calling me a lot worse when I tell you that that arm needs tending to.”
He shifted slightly, turning his body so you wouldn’t be able to see. You just crossed your arms across your chest and stared at him pointedly. He held your gaze and was still as a statue. You could play the silence game too if that was how he wanted to do this. It was only a matter of time before one of you broke and you weren’t the one with a dislocated shoulder, so you’d say that the odds were in your favor.
It seemed like time dragged on before, without saying anything, the Mandalorian sighed and turned towards the ship.
You bit down on a smile, but you could still feel it creeping upon your lips as you congratulated yourself on winning. Two nil, you tallied in your head, not bad girl.
The ship… well the ship was a fossil and that was being generous. But it was clean and obviously well taken of, if the tidy hull was anything to go by.
Apart from the charred corpse lying in the middle of course, but those were just details. Easily overlooked. The smell however… that was a different story, but you held back any comments. You still couldn’t fathom how he’d managed to drag a fully grown Houk through the town one-handed, but then you knew that the strength and discipline of the Mandalorians was unrivalled. He could have done it through sheer determination and honestly, you were lucky to have found him at all. But people in Mynock liked to talk, so following the rumors' had let you there relatively easy.
A sigh broke your train of thought, “Let’s get this over with.”
The warrior seemed resigned to his fate as he stepped over the corpse and you followed suit, mind instantly running through the correct procedure and treatment.
“We have to get the bone in the upper arm into the correct position before it slips back into joint, otherwise the force will just break your arm.” You explained as you moved to stand in front of the large warrior when he sat back on one of the many crates pushed against the wall of the ship. You could barely hear the short exhales coming from the modulator and you could only guess that he was holding back speaking, whether in pain or frustration that you had strong-armed him into accepting treatment again.
“But hey, look on the bright side.”
His visor tilted slightly to look at you.
“No droids needed.” You shrugged a shoulder and sent him a grin when he said nothing. When he looked away, you focused your attention back on the problem shoulder; it wasn’t immediately clear that it had been dislocated, the pauldron he wore hiding the jutting ball of the joint that was no doubt pressed uncomfortably against his flesh. What you could see was that his left side was hanging just a bit lower than his right, and the inability to move the arm was a dead giveaway.
“Are you just going to stare at it or actually do what you said you would when you barged onto my ship?” The rasp was closer to you as he turned his head, the rumble of his voice decidedly deeper than you remembered last time. Or perhaps it always had been, and you just hadn’t been paying enough attention, more focused on the very real threat of having a dead body on your hands as the poison spread. You rolled your eyes; or it was all the short and biting commands he only seemed to know how to give as opposed to actually speaking that made you forget the voice. The man could be attractive, if he wasn’t so frustrating.
“I can’t see it properly.” You replied, agitated with him again. He got under your skin too easily, and ruined your cool demeanor.
“You dealt with the problem just fine before.” He snapped back, pain making him cranky.
“You didn’t have a bone out of place last time!” You stopped yourself, sucking in a breath before releasing it to prevent yourself from snapping again.
“At least,” you bartered, “let me remove the pauldron. I can feel around the duraweave to get an idea. I won’t see any more of you than I did last time.”
He didn’t say anything again for a time and honestly, he was the slowest person you’d ever met at receiving emergency medical care. Half the men you treated during the Rebellion would yell until you’d taken care of the worst of their injuries before they even considered if it was what they wanted or not.
“Fine.” Was all he responded, making no move to remove the offending piece so you took that as your cue to feel around the curved metal cautiously, feeling where it attached to his duraweave and releasing it into your hands before placing it down on a separate crate.
“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” A warning growl echoed in the hull, turning you back to your task with a hum.
It seemed the joint had popped forward, no doubt from caving in as Teff collided with Mando’s shoulder. You leaned forward, your fingers feeling around the area as gently as you could while his breathing came out a little shorter. You sent him an apologetic smile.
“I’m going to have to ask you to stay still, okay? Usually I’d have someone to hold—”
“I can keep myself still, just do it.” He snapped finally, turning to look at you before he looked away again. You said nothing more as you took his gloved hand in yours, turning the forearm over and feeling the hand clench in yours when he hissed.
“Shh, nearly there.” You soothed, moving your hand under his elbow to lift it so it was aligned with Mando’s shoulder. You stood, keeping the arm in place and twisting yourself to stand facing his side.
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You were definitely out to get him. There was no other explanation for why he only seemed to be seriously injured in your presence. Din tried to tell himself he was being over-dramatic and irrational, that you hadn’t even been on the same planet when he was injured the first time, but then you opened your mouth and he felt justified in his petulant thoughts.
“On three.” He heard you warn and all he could offer was a single nod; the sooner he got this over with the better.
“One…” You jerked the arm forward and slipped the joint back into place quickly with a sickening crack and searing pain took his breath away before it began to ebb immediately.
“DANK…. FERRICK!” Din yelled as his good arm reached across to grip his left, bending forward as he breathed through the flash of pain. You moved out of his way, waiting for him to look back up at you through the helmet, deep pants making his chest heave. You cocked your head to the side when his eyes found yours, a clear question there.
He groaned as he sat back, leaning his head against the hull, “It… doesn’t hurt as much anymore.” He admitted, thinking that the smile you gave him was somewhat worth the knock to his ego at having to admit such a thing in the first place. And like last time, before he could even worry about the concerning direction that thought had led to, you were fluttering about opening crates and bins as if you owned the place.
“What the hell—” he made to stand indignantly.
“Do you have any spare cloth?” You interrupted, “Your arm needs to be bound for a few days. If you have bacta it might reduce the healing time a bit but honestly, I don’t think dislocations can be rushed despite recent studies. Rushing back to heavily lifting or activity for at least six weeks is a sure way to hurt yourself again.”
You were rambling now as you set a pile of disused yet clean cloth you found on your lap, sitting across from him as he just blinked at this enigma of a woman. Giving him orders in his own ship, were you daft?
Your eyes sharpened and shot to his and he was suddenly glad you couldn’t see behind his mask. His eyes had widened guiltily at the thought that you had read his mind.
“You will do what you’re told, understand Mando?” You warned as your fingers tied a loose sling from strips of cloth you’d pulled apart without even having to look at it, deft fingers looping the material and strengthening it with several more layers woven in for good measure.
“If you insist on getting injured so often, you live with the consequences. And the consequences are doing what you’re fucking told and being happy about it, got it? Sulk if you want, so long as you keep the arm bound and don’t take on any jobs for at least two months.”
He opened his mouth a few times at the audacity, did she have a death wish? He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had spoken to him as if he were no more than a child and it made his blood boil. But just as quickly as the anger arose, it simmered as she muttered while watching her fingers tie off the sling,
“You don’t actually seem like a bad guy, and the galaxy can’t afford to lose anymore… not bad guys.” She seemed unsure of giving out even this level of praise but then again, she only had their first encounter to go by.
He grunted; not sure how to respond. And when Din was uncomfortable, he resorted to silence.
You got to your feet once the sling was suitably strong enough to support the weight of his arm without unravelling or breaking and you indicated to him, “May I?”
He jerked his head up in affirmation and you maneuvered the sling to sit correctly under his elbow and forearm, coaxing him to lift it slightly with a tap before you looped the tied end over his helmet, adjusting the length slightly to fit against him.
“You left Klatooine.” the statement rose from the warrior, his tone quieter than you’d heard him all day. Was he... trying to make conversation? Din told himself that it was merely out of curiosity from seeing you by chance on two totally different planets.
Blinking in surprise, you sat back on the crate in front of him, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back on one of your hands, “New Republic stopped funding the clinic and I realized that they’re all the same when it comes to the Outer Rim.”
He snorted in agreement, honestly, he wasn’t surprised to hear the New Republic had cut their losses on charity. It wasn’t in their nature to funnel money away from the Core planets.
“But it’s not all bad,” you continued, “I work with a doctor here. He’s old now so he should be enjoying his retirement. I’m kept busy and…”
He watched you while he waited for you to finish, surely there was more? But when you just shrugged and sent him a tight smile, he felt an uncomfortable niggle at the back of his neck, a familiarity that made him almost want to smile back even if you couldn’t see it. Almost. But not quite. He was unnerved at the… empathy he had for your situation. He too just… kept busy. It wasn’t towards any end beyond supporting the covert and the foundlings there. But for himself, he just kept working towards some translucent, non-existent goal, one job ended, and another began.
Something in your eyes told him you were doing the exact same thing. It unnerved him to think about.
“Echoy’la…” the word left him without knowing and you blinked,
“Hm?”
He shook his head and stood, grunting a bit at the ache in his shoulder when it jostled a bit, “Nothing. It seems I owe you my thanks again, demon medic.”
“I do have a name you know.” You snorted, letting the previous topic go as it seemed to just make him more awkward and grumpy than he already was. You packed away the medikit and replaced the unused cloth back where you found it.
“Somehow I don’t think it’ll be as fitting.”
“Whatever, sunshine.” You looked over your shoulder at him, the sling looking so out of place as he hooked a thumb in the utility belt he wore. It was amazing that he could still look as intimidating as he did. You gathered your things and started down the ramp leisurely. He followed you silently until he was standing at the entrance to the ship.
“Demon or not… thank you.” He called out as your feet hit the dusty ground of Mynock once again. You looked back over your shoulder and gave a single wave, calling something back to him that did make him smile behind his helmet this time.
As you disappeared into the streets of Mynock, he tested the name you had thrown back to him, rolling the syllables, and testing the vowels as he repeated it to himself.
Pity, he thought. He hated being wrong about anything, but somehow, your name was a much better fit than demon medic.
Not that he would ever admit that to you, of course.
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flaringfoxsoul03 · 2 years ago
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Hi! Are you still open for match up Obey me? I want to take a request BUT! ofc if you don't mind and not tired ( don't forget to rest well dear! ) Okay! I'll start by introducing myself, Pronouns are She/They/Them Pansexual and someone who has an ISFP personality. I personally am someone who is neutral. Energetic and Calm at the same time and I have experience (let's just say I'm a free psychologist for my friends) and knowledge as a psychologist. I don't really like being in crowded and noisy crowds but I can handle it and because of demands that make me HAVE to be in it so... I'm getting used to it, I might be the type of person who easily reconciles with the past and easily adapts to new environments, I'm not the type of person who likes to find trouble or get stuck in it so I tend to stay away from it but if it has anything to do with it with someone I know/care about then I should AT LEAST try to straighten that out if it doesn't work? Well, let's say I have to throw my hands, I'm an understanding and nosy person regardless of the situation :'∆ I want to make people feel better! So that's why I'm learning psychologist thingy :D I'm a hard worker but the moment I decide to take a break, no one can stop me! (maybe) If I'm angry, I'll end up sad somehow, but I refuse to cry! nobody's perfect and neither am I. I have a problem being a bit rude to someone I consider bad who I don't even know very well, I easily belittle other people too... I feel bad now
my view on love? huh, love in a platonic view I think is an incomparable love for the person you care about whoever it is for you! but my view of love romantically? is like a small part of your heart that is finally filled and a feeling that you have to take care of, I like to do whatever my partner likes and the type of person who pays attention to them, ideal type? with anyone who makes me fall in love :) but i would melt if they had a gentleman attitude and giving me a headpat or any physical affection? Please they're too perfect to me! And I want to treat my lover whatever makes them comfortable, and for obey me character? Hmm I don't think I'm suit to solomon and Simeon, I love them platonicly and I think they love me Platonicly back ( give me a brothers like them >:'/ oh yeah! I almost forgot i can sign language so I will do some sign language to my Lovers whether they understand or not (funny if they don't they won't know that I said 'I'm yours' in sign language)
I like all kinds of music and reading history from all corners of the world that I find interesting, I'm not picky about food. i eat everything :v i also like to collect memorable photos ( even the embarrassing ones ) i love and hate animals at the same time, my style of dress? fashionable and tomboyish, i like pearls it's beautiful and stunning I also have a pearl necklace that my sister gave me and I always wear it (I was very moved when she gave it)
Physical characteristics? 5'0 tall, Tan skin, Shoulder length brown hair, mole above my eyebrow and hazel eyes, and 1 heart ( lol)
and that's all! Have a nice day or Sweet dream dear, take a good rest a talented writer must have a good rest! 👋 bye~
You are just as cute as a button and as elegant as the kitsune my darling! And I have a match made in hell for you~.
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I match you with…
Lucifer!
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So you asked for a brother like Solomon and Simeon and to be honest, it’s literally just Lucifer all over. Like this has to be a perfect match for you my darling. You both fit the vibes so well together and basically do the same thing day in and out. Why not combine those powers together to become the ultimate powerhouse couple?
Let’s admit it: Lucifer and you did NOT get along at the beginning. This demon is literally the embodiment of Pride and you’re a stubborn donkey when it comes to putting your nose into other people’s businesses, especially when they drag you into it. Nothing was ever just a conversation, it was a whole ass event every time the two of you were in a room and talking. Satan turned it into a reality show for himself due to the aggressive amounts of drama that resulted in it just by you two existing. After the “Attic Incident” something changed between you two, and ultimately leads you down to your relationship with him after what Satan would call it, “boorish mating ritual of heightened aggression”
Enjoys that he’s not the one having to always corral his brothers around and manage them, he’s got backup on that front and even better? Pacts definitely help the going, less so when you don’t specify enough and pull him into the shenanigans. But Lucifer isn’t always making you manage his brothers, he’s personally gotta have some responsibility over them when you’re barely managing them effectively due to the constant wear and tear of your energy. But he sees you help his brothers in easy he could never let his pride down long enough to do in all his years of living with them. And to that, he’s eternally grateful for you helping his brothers become the best demon versions they can be for demons
Despite being alive for so long, Lucifer barely has any time for personally recreational activities such as expanding his languages. I mean, he definitely smart enough to figure out most human languages given that he must know more than enough for Lord Diavolo and for his dreams to come to full fruition, but he definitely didn’t know American Sign Language (ASL) at first. He might’ve seen it during his time picking out exchange student resumes, but it’s canon that he just kind of gave up and showed Lord Diavolo the first one he picked up after a gust of wind blew all the stacks of papers everywhere. My guess is that he didn’t really see your ASL certification on your paper so he absolutely doesn’t realize this for a good long while. When you do start signing in front of him, he’s confused but not like “Oh woah!” it’s more of a “what the hell” kind of light bulb moment. He eventually learns ASL but for awhile you’re able to get away with telling him super embarrassing things you’d never say out loud. But will he let you know once he’s fluent enough to know what you’re signing to him? Maybe he’ll let it go on for a little while longer, he certainly enjoys the praise you give him~
Doesn’t always love that you try to capture everything in pictures. He’s literally had wrestling matches with you over pictures he deemed too embarrassing to ever exist but due to your insistence, occasionally an awkward pic here and there makes it through inspections. In the end of it all, Lucifer loves that you have memories in all your photo galleries, even the ones he wishes weren’t taken, they remind him that you’re there with him and not anywhere else
Definitely likes that he’s bigger than you and you’re such a small human being. I feel like he’s about 6 foot something, but definitely not on the short side compared to the normal human (as normal as you can get) exchange student. Finds it very easy to pick you up and take you wherever he wishes. Very effective way to get you to shut up if your having arguments, especially the ones that get him more wound up than usual~
Will get you matching earrings to help make your pearl necklace have that much more meaning every time you look at it. He thinks all things gifted by siblings should be treasured and he definitely doesn’t want that pearl necklace to go to waste. It should be shown off every chance you get, he might get just a tad bit excited and prideful when he gets a chance to show his lovely partner off
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And the follow ups are:
Satan
And
Barbatos
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And that’s all folks!
~Fox
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