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giantchasm · 1 year ago

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"It turns out that sometimes the future actually belongs to someone else."

Happy Taransusie Tuesday, everyone! Here's...

Content that only ostensibly focuses on Taransusie and is more than anything character analysis of a third party?

How romantic! 🎉🥳

Okay, but no, seriously. Joshing aside, the other day I posted a meme about Sectonia and how she might feel about the idea of Taranza eventually moving on from her. And it was funny. We all laughed. But things can't always be goof-goof "If everyone started saying 'she sent her for you' I would start haunting literally everyone here because no I didn't." I'm a serious guy. I like exploring concepts that make me go "OUCHIE!" and so let's look at that sort of idea through a more somber lens for a moment.

...How would Sectonia feel if Taranza eventually moved on?

Now, I don't know if she's out there... somewhere in Hades or haunting his ass, but either way I think about her a lot. How she might feel in death, especially if she was returned to her right mind.

I think... Sectonia would have a lot of complicated feelings. Like, before we even get to the relationship nonsense. Let's toss all that aside for a second. I think Sectonia would be simultaneously be crushed by the state she left Taranza in and still... upset to eventually see him heal from it. She'd be glad, of course, to watch the scars she left on him fade, but all the same... seeing him make new friends— leave her behind...

That would have to hurt a little bit, wouldn't it? After all, it's not like she'd be afforded the same opportunity. She died young. Via circumstances that were hardly her fault. Of course she'd be a little bit jealous. Of course she'd be a little bit depressed. Maybe even a little bit angry. And she'd feel bad about it, but she would.

So when you factor in the idea of Taranza entering another relationship... oh my gosh, those complex feelings would only intensify. Taranza deserves to be happy. Taranza deserves to move on. She would know that rationally, but at the same time, the heart isn't always rational.

I do think ultimately she'd support him. In whatever he chose to do. Even if it hurt her a little. The least she can do is give him her blessing after everything that happened.

But that's something that applies to just about any Taranza ship. Let's talk about Susie for a moment.

I... think Susie and Sectonia are people who have some similar issues. At least in my interpretations, they're both people who have warped and maimed themselves in an endless search of perfection hoping it will grant them acceptance from others. But this hasn't granted them peace of mind, and in fact all it's done is pull them further from 'themselves.'

I don't know. I just think they'd have a lot to talk about, even in contexts that don't flagrantly disregard the Bechdel test like this one. They're both girlies who would, like, really vibe to both "Oh No!" by Marina and the Diamonds and "Body" by Mother Mother if that's a sentence that makes even a lick of sense. Their mental illnesses aren't the same, but they're like cousins. Their mental illnesses went to school together.

I think this sort of... self-recognition through the other would both make things easier and harder on Sectonia. Because on one hand, I think it would further be a reminder of all the things she'll never have no matter how badly she wants them, but I also think it would help her... have more empathy for this person she's initially inclined to see as her enemy, and maybe even help her eventually want good things for her.

It's kind of a complex scenario. More serpentine than I could possibly portray in a single comic or Tumblr post. Eventually, I'd like to write a fic from a deceased Sectonia's perspective exploring these sorts of ideas. But for now, I'll leave you with one last preposterous observation:

Perhaps this, too, is yuri. 🤖🐝

#its the age old debacle! when does wanting to be another girl wrap around to wanting to kiss her?#kirby #taransusie #taranza #susie kirby #sectonia #queen sectonia #susie haltmann #susanna patrya haltmann #kirby of the stars #hoshi no kirby #hoshi no kaabii #i think all people who ship taranza with someone other than sectonia (me included) should be forced to like #write a 2000 word essay on how she still plays into his story and would affect his ability to have relationships #and is a fascinating character in her own right who adds a more interesting angle to literally any dynamic if she's like.#explored instead of carelessly brushed aside so whoever you ship with taranza more can 'fix' him #if you devote tons of time and thought to taranza and none to her outside of occasionally like .#treating her as his one dimensional abuser/fridged woman to eventually move on from #then i'm going to hit you with a giant flyswatter #several times #but enough of me complaining #a few details in this comic are specific references to my kirbyverse/fics i've written so i'll explain those here #panel with susie & implied body horror is because in my interp she mechanized herself in a desperate attempt to stay by her fathers side #then as for those last few panels with the scarf #and taranza not wearing HIS scarf #that's actually a reference to a fic i wrote about taransusie getting together and uhhhhh How Complicated that would be #i won't explain it all i'll post it eventually but what you need to know is when Taranza decides to enter a relationship #he leaves the matching scarf he had with sectonia at the base of the dreamstalk because he feels like he no longer deserves it #but mysteriously it ends up back on his bedside table smelling of cyclamen and zinnias the next day #wow. i wonder how that happened! definitely not a sign from someone saying 'hey. it's okay. i don't hate you.' nooooooo

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brynnterpretations · 3 months ago

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Hi! I'd love a bowers gang ship request for my IT OC Marilyn Fenix! I have a bio page for her that might be easier to read rather than me sending her info all here if that's okay ! The banner has a few tabs that I hope help <3

https://venuscheered.carrd.co

As a side note, I've really liked seeing your IT OCs as of late! I'm such a sucker for fan characters!

Thank you so much for the ship, kind words, and sharing your wonderful OC! I didn't check out the bonds list because I didn't want to be biased, so I hope it's fine if the "meeting" section doesn't align with anyone in the gang! (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

I ship Marilyn Fenix with...

Henry Bowers ♡

Boyfriend

GIF Source: @pennywise-fucker ★ (link)

Henry and Marilyn likely have known each other since there are children — after all, Derry is a tiny town. Throughout it all, Henry and Marilyn honestly hadn't interacted much; while Henry thought she was pretty when she was younger, and enjoyed her former timidity, as the two of them grew older, their social circles completely changed. However, he never really stopped looking at Marilyn. It wasn't intentional; he did it to all the girls at school who he thought were "bangable", but with Marilyn, it was a bit different. She was the kindest person he'd met around Derry, but there was an inherent unattainability to her: her seeming perfection made him feel insecure, causing him to project a quality of "stuckupness" to her.

In a twist of fate, the two were paired as tablemates in English, and later, partners. Henry does not talk to her at first; when she says hi, he'll say it back, sure, but if she asks him about his day or anything, even, it's always a one-word answer. Our boy Henry is not a man of words. But...

Henry's awful at English, and regardless of Marilyn's abilities, she's 100% going to be leagues better than Henry. Because of that, he starts engaging with Marilyn more — though mainly because of Marilyn's consistent kindness towards him. She's never too pushy, but still offers him help with classwork when she sees him struggling, and even sometimes gets a tiny exhale of a chuckle from him.

Time goes by with them exchanging some awkward words that eventually turn into more sentences on Henry's end. By that point, they're paired together for a Fahrenheit 451 project. Henry does not fuck with this. Marilyn fucks with this better. As such, Marilyn takes the lead, much to Henry's gratitude, though he doesn't show it. He just sits there, occasionally giving a single nod as Marilyn talks about the project, letting her do all the work.

They begin getting closer through this, particularly because of the form: a massive trifold, which is impractical to work on at school. Marilyn, bless her, proposes her house to work at, which relieves Henry so much. As such, they begin meeting whenever the two of them have the time. Henry would immediately feel out of place in her home, and, noticing his anxiety, Marilyn would never call it out, only doing things to subtly make him feel more comfortable.

This would make Henry soften to her even more as they continued to work on their project. As they continued to work together, Marilyn would definitely be able to notice small cracks in Henry's exterior. Still, she doesn't push him, something Henry desperately needs in any sort of romantic relationship. As they continue to spend time at Marilyn's house, they'd have a lot of more organic conversations that flow far more naturally than the ones at school. He's not a big talker, of course, but he'd start talking a lot more willingly, though not sharing much about himself.

Eventually, Henry and her begin hanging out outside of her house, particularly after a rough day of Henry's. After getting into a rather vicious spat with the school janitor, Henry ended up in detention, only getting out after Marilyn's cheer practice had ended. Upon seeing his face, which looked more like a kicked puppy than anything, Marilyn — bless her soul — came over to talk to him, even if out of sight of the rest of the cheer team (maybe intentionally, maybe unintentionally). Henry asks, without making it clear that it was any sort of date as the romantic he is not, asks if she'd want to come with him to the quarry.

And... she does. The two head to the quarry, sitting below the bridge that overlooks the quarry, staring into nothingness. It's not uncomfortable, though. The two talk about Henry's awful day, which Marilyn makes him feel better about, as well as talking about other things: Marilyn's involvement on the cheer team, the things she does for fun, and maybe even her family.

Eventually, these hang-outs become a regular occurrence, and finally, Henry asks her if she'd like to come to a bonfire the Bowers Gang hosts every month at Victor's house.

She comes, and things just feel... right. The Bowers Gang are quite nice to her, excluding Patrick being weird ("that your eye candy for the night?" followed by a disgusting Hockstetter-signature cackle), and there's plenty of beer: something that may likely contribute to Marilyn's substance abuse issues.

When they're both drunk and getting ready to leave — Belch is the sober-monitor for the night but is incredibly forgetful, and has to find his keys — Henry initiates the first kiss. It's clumsy — Henry has not had any romantic interests that have led to any skill — but it's as sweet as a kiss from Bowers could possibly be.

Henry's wishy-washy about immediately putting a label on their relationship, and I'd imagine Marilyn might be too; Bowers is basically a walking hazard label, but could be used as leverage against her parents (though that's not to say she'd be using him), so she'd have a lot of mixed feelings, while Henry would simply not feel too much rush to make things official.

After about a month, though, Henry asks her point-blank if she'd like to be his girlfriend. Marilyn says yes. Queue flying doves and falling petals and beautiful lighting.

Just kidding! It's at the quarry, and it smells like wet grass.

Once dating, Marilyn would both be and provide a safe haven for Henry, and he'd spend a lot of time at her place to escape his father. He'd slowly be able to ease into physical intimacy with her, even letting her hold him sometimes. I could also see her patching him up when he's hurt, and being a borderline mother figure for him, because... trauma.

Henry would be understanding of her frustration with her family, considering Butch only pays attention to him when he's abusing him, but would be irritated with it too. How he sees it, Marilyn's getting fed and going to bed without any blotches or marks on her torso; after a tough day, if she mentioned it, he would 100% would blow up on her.

However, I don't see him physically hurting her. While Henry has no qualms with hitting girls in relationships, especially because his father taught him that it was how to "keep a woman in her place", I can't imagine Marilyn ever pushing him enough to get him to that point. It would probably just be some awful arguments that left Marilyn crying, and Henry simply... leaving the room.

Still, he'd make it up in his own ways: being slightly more caring and gentle, though never apologizing directly. This could also lead to some arguments if Marilyn ever spoke up about it.

Henry would also be super possessive over her, and might even become jealous of her cheerleading. They would go to parties a lot, and if he saw a guy looking at her in any way, shit would go down.

But, back to the nice stuff: Henry's a shower rather than a teller, and would always do his best to give her small trinkets, be there for her physically, and make space for her, be it in Belch's car, parties, or general Bowers Gang hangouts.

And that brings us to...

Bowers Gang ☻

Friends

GIF Source: @pennywise-fucker ★ (link)

Henry wouldn't have any qualms about introducing her to the gang. He is obsessed with coming off as tough and masculine, so he wouldn't even really think of the implications it could have on Marilyn's social status unless he noticed she was trying to avoid being seen with them (which, if that happened, would lead to a massive argument).

So, if all goes well: they'd all end up your friends (though Patrick's personal definition of "friend" varies wildly from the standard). Henry would likely insist in a Henry way of her riding home with them, essentially just saying, "get in" — he's not a charmer

Belch would have a massive crush on Marilyn, which he would be terrified of; with Henry, that's essentially a death sentence. Because of that, he'd be cordial.

However, he would definitely drunkenly talk to her whenever they went to parties — never confessing his feelings for her, but being far more open than he'd had before, and getting to know more about her and her life.

Queue super cute conversations between the two of them; maybe not romantic, but still, cute, platonically (though not on Belch's end, painfully; bless his heart).

Now, Patrick... he's gross. He's attracted to basically every type of girl, and finds "goody-two-shoes", happy-go-lucky, sweet girls very, very fun. He'd not just make weird comments to her when she was around, but he'd try to test her boundaries: getting her to smoke, encouraging her to shoplift, and trying to make her say words she'd never usually say (E.G., if she doesn't curse, try to get her to).

If Henry saw this, he would immediately put a stop to it, so he pretty much only does it when Henry's not around. However, I could see Marilyn possibly going along with some of Patrick's suggestions.

And, once he sees that? She's good in the gang. He's got a huge thing for corruption, and he loves to see it in Marilyn.

Also, he would 100% steal her cheerleading stuff to fuck with her. He sucks.

Due to Belch's crush and Patrick's general instability, I think Victor would be her closest friend in the gang. He's the most intuitive of the gang, so he'd pick up on the substance abuse issues that Henry does not, and gently try to make sure she's not drinking too much and trying to avoid having too much alcohol or weed around her on non-weekend days.

Marilyn is very easy to talk to, which is nice for Victor; he's not shy, just introverted, and having someone who has such ease in conversations is nice. They talk about everything; their home lives, music they like, their plans for the future, everything.

He, too, also becomes quietly protective of Marilyn, shooting Patrick dirty looks or even telling him to fuck off when he tries to pressure Marilyn, even comforting Marilyn if she ever came to him about Henry's hot-and-cold behavior, so on and so forth.

It's a rare pure friendship when it comes to the Bowers Gang, and I love to see.

As a group, they'd all do a lot together: bonfires, parties, late night junkyard trips to unload steam on random garbage, and occasionally diners (though most refuse service to the Bowers Gang due to their tendency to dine-and-dash).

So, all in all: Marilyn's got some guys who would drop everything for her (excluding Patrick, who's just there to escalate, let's be real), and I'm glad she's got that, even with the highs and lows there are with Henry. Stay safe, girl, and don't let Hockstetter be around you alone.

#I LOVE HERRR #also the website is GORGEOUS #im sorry this is not super in depth tumblr character count wants me DEAD!!!#bowers gang #ship request #bowers gang ship request #belch huggins #henry bowers #patrick hockstetter #victor criss

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fandomsandflyingstingrays · 2 years ago

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Full Thoughts on TDP Season 5

Under the cut, because there are many of them!

Starting off with things I liked:

Rayllum! It was so good to see them on the same page again, and they have a perfect balance between deep, romantic devotion and the shared laughter and gestures of best friends. Their dynamic this season was my favorite iteration of them so far

Janai and Amaya were wonderful as well. I was really bracing for Amaya to leave for Lux Area without telling Janai and a whole bunch of drama to ensue, but no! They communicate! They trust each other! It's so refreshing!

Side note: Lux Area was gorgeous the detail in every shot of the city and Bookery was so good. I want to live there. I will take on the night creatures if need be

I hoped we'd get an apology from Amaya for Rayla, and I'm really glad they took the time to put it in the show instead of a short story or anything like that. It was also cool to see Amaya recognizing the similarities she and Rayla share and acting as more of a mentor to her, I hope we see more of them together later on

The reoccurring message that oftentimes the best way to be strong is by going to other people for help- first Amaya's story, then Rayla trusting Callum, then Zubeia's talk with Avizandum. It's a very good moral

That whole thing with Soren and Elmer! Breaking the cycle of cruelty! I love Soren so much

Callum using dark magic again. I thought I would hate it if that happened, since we've seen a corruption plotline with him and with Claudia already, but the way it was done sort of added a good sense of realism. I like that Callum isn't a Perfectly Moral Mage just because he can do primal magic; it feels deeper and more complicated if he has to recognize that the easier, darker choice is always there, and sometimes he won't be able to resist it, but he has to try each time anyway

So many little moments that I'll probably be going into in separate posts because the dynamic between the characters was on fire. It was so good to see the team really working together, their chemistry was so good

Things I wasn't as much of a fan of:

The problem with the show really relying on people to read all the supplementary material is still present. I was pretty confused about who Kpp'Ar was until I looked him up on the wiki, and again, people who didn't know about Soren getting sick as a kid from the Book 2 novelization really wouldn't have gotten his part of the dream sequence. It doesn't ruin the show or anything but it does make it a little confusing at times

The plotline with the coins is starting to feel a little drawn-out. Runaan's presence would bring up enough complications between Rayla and the rest of the group that he needs enough time out of the coin to give that the weight it deserves, and I'm really hoping he gets out next season so we can have at least season 7 to go into that. Also, Ethari needs his husband back

As good as it was to see rayllum back together, I do still think we needed a scene of them actually talking things through. I'm sure it'll appear in a Reflections story at some point, but again, you don't want your show to lean that heavily on the bonus material

This is more of a nitpick than anything else, but the characters' faces in the early episodes felt really stiff. They'd be having a monologue where you could really hear the emotion in their voices, but their faces just... didn't really move

And finally: too many crabs. This is not a flaw with the season this is just because I personally am freaked out by crabs and I've never been so horrified in all my life as when the true nature of Finnegrin's ship was revealed. It'll haunt me forever

Overall I liked it a lot, and I'm really excited to see where it goes next! Claudia feels like she's on the very edge of the point of no return, if she hasn't already crossed it, and it'll be very interesting to see how she reacts to the loss of her leg and (most likely) the loss of her father next season. I'm also very excited for the nova blade, that sounds like a gorgeous piece of weaponry and seeing whoever wields it (my money's on Rayla) fighting Aaravos is going to be epic. This season has definitely ratcheted up my investment in the show, which I'm very excited about

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tacticalhimbo · 8 months ago

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Howdy hey! Today is my day, so I bring to the table a transfem!IQ & Osa ficlet for @dualrainbow 's Suns Out Guns Out (SOGO) event!

I have a few trans* headcanons for the R6 operators (being transmasc myself), and thought it would be fun to kind of explore one of those headcanons with a canonically trans* operator as well. As such, this ficlet is inspired by the fresher, Nighthaven arc (post 2022 Six Invitational).

Left this vaguely open in terms of whether it's ship or not, but I like to imagine this as a sort of "first step" for the two 💕

This is also loosely inspired by a few coming out experiences of my own, as well as similar conversations in general about gender. Because let's be real, that shit can be awkward sometimes-

Translations are at the bottom of the ficlet, but please forgive if these aren't 1:1 or perfect uses! I researched them but you can only find so much on forum sites and Reddit. German was easier for me to verify as I'd studied it, but there weren't a lot of resources on Croatian that I could find so I do apologize.

I've jokingly dubbed this "Transfems in STEM", but there isn't an official title or anything. Purely vibes!

Rambling aside, I hope y'all enjoy! Here's a brief summary:

WORDS: 1.2k FANDOM(S): Rainbow Six Siege WARNINGS: Brief (though non-graphic) mentions of transphobia, both external and internalized.

Fic below the cut!

They had met here and there through their service with Rainbow. Mostly through the guidance of others—and most notably when paired together under the command of Kali—but their natural interests in technology had meant one would always seek the other out when hearing of interesting new news. Of course, and perhaps humorously, the other person in the pair had already heard the news as well… But it was still nice to chat back and forth about their thoughts. It was refreshing.

It was something that became a routine habit between the two, and that led to them breaking out of their shells with one another.

Monika was hardly a social type, even within her own team. She cared deeply for them, and genuinely did see them as her friends. Stated time and time again that they were, even if her actions weren't always indicative of such. There was still this lingering distance. A subtle discomfort that stemmed from somewhere deeper within. A lingering insecurity that she may say too much, or that she wouldn't 'meet the mark' and humiliate herself in doing such.

Likewise, Anja was cordial with most (if a bit colder). Quicker; to the point. Her care for others, more often than not, showed through her work. Hours spent tinkering away in research and development labs to present a personalized gadget. Ngũgĩ's Mag-Net, Håvard's Aqua Breacher, and specialized prosthetics for Apha. Yet even then, there was a less-than-subtle difference. One that she deliberately placed there; talking with her, especially on a personal level, was a professional courtesy. Something the may help the team, but that took away from her work. Placed her in a spotlight that—depending on the day—she'd rather avoid.

Yet there was this magnetic pull between the two.

An odd chemistry that led to after-hours chats amongst the strewn about circuitry of the labs. Dimmed lights shone over the dark epoxy resin surfaces and the two women sat upon stools, idly picking away at whatever takeout they'd managed to get sneak back into the base through the clever use of the German's hoodie. Equally idle chatter filled the still air, conversations waxing and waning through topics and padded by light laughter as they'd recalled whatever wild stories that came to mind. Those from their former teams, from their lives before involvement with Rainbow…

"You know," Anja began, "You seem like the sci-fi type. Have you ever seen Empress of the Plutomatons?"

Monika's eyes lit up, hand briefly sitting over her mouth as she'd forced herself to finish the mouthful of food she'd just taken in. All the while, she nodded excitedly.

"Have I ever—Of course I have!" Another fit of laughter from the two at the enthusiastic outburst. "You know, I always wanted to base my whole look off of the Empress. The long, wavy hair. The fierce make-up. Weißte? Everything about her was just so…"

"Perfect?"

A dreamy sigh. "Sehr perfekt."

"What stopped you?" A genuine curiosity lingered in the Croatian's tone, eyes studying the other as she mulled the thought over. "You would pull it off well."

A warmth began to spread over the apples of Monika's cheeks. A subtle skip in her pulse that, while undetectable to the other occupant in the room, felt deafening. Then a subtle chill down her spine. What had stopped her was fear. The idea of being a caricature, that is more so than people around her life at the time had believed her to be. She stood out enough as she grew into her femininity. Hated every scrutinizing second that'd pass while she simply existed within the public eye. Glossed lips parted to release a soft sigh.

"It's… a long story."

"And not one you feel like sharing?" Anja piqued a brow, tilting her head slightly as she sipped at her drink.

The slow shake of the head. A nauseating bubble as her mind wandered to potential reactions to the explanation. A lingering wanting that brought Monika's mouth to move before her mind could stop it.

"Well. It's just—it felt… wrong. Like it wouldn't have really been who I am. That doesn't make sense, I know—"

"It does. Trust me." Anja smiled, a hint of sadness in her eyes. She was thankful the reflections on the glasses hid it. "I am sure you've probably heard all about me from the others. You know, even under Kali's command, not many of them wanted to work with 'someone like me' at first. I was used to it, it was no different in Zagreb—the same old discussions that you learn to tune out for something better."

Monika's interest was piqued. What did she mean by that? She had heard gossip of her direct approach to things. Her passions for the job. How she was had her soft spots, as much as she denied them. But…

"Heard about what?"

There was a long pause upon hearing the question. A near-uncomfortable silence that filled the room. Then boisterous laughter as the operator keeled over at the table.

"Molim—You can't be serious. Everyone finally shuts up about it, and I'm the last to find out?" She wiped at her eyes, briefly lifting her glasses from her features before settling back into her resting position. "I'm transgender, Monika."

Another long pause, though much less uncomfortable than the first. Rather, it was like someone had popped a bubble encasing the room and released all the tension built up within it. Unconsciously wound muscles found themselves relaxing at the statement, and lips curled upward in a comfortable smile.

"That makes two of us, then." Another sigh from Monika, though now it stemmed from a place of relief. Even with the intrigued look that crossed the other's expression.

"Really? I would have never guessed. Not because of your appearance, but—" That wasn't quite what she'd wanted to say, nor how. Shit. Her excitement got the better of her. "It was never mentioned by anybody."

Thankfully, Monika didn't seem to take offense to any potential—and notably accidental—insinuations. In fact, she laughed softly.

"Not many people know; I prefer it that way, personally. Of course, my old team knew. Medical staff. I think besides them, the only person I ever felt comfortable to tell was Doctor Pandey." A pause. "Until now, of course."

"That is… a lot of trust to put in a person." There was a shift in the operator's tone. A genuine surprise that broke through that cold, confident demeanor. Anja didn't think they were that close.

"I know. I trust you, that is why."

But she wasn't complaining. In fact, quite the opposite: She reveled in the fact. It meant that while Monika had broken through her walls, that she had also broken through Monika's. She still succeeded. They both did. And that brought a smile to her face. One that mirrored the one on her counterpart's.

"Is that so?" A genuine inquiry; an attempt to dissect how far that trust ran.

And Monika leaned into the attempt. Sat forward to sit her elbows on the table between them and rest her chin atop her palm as a blanket of comfort draped over her shoulders; caused her muscles to unwind and her posture to slump. All the while, that smile lingered on her lips.

"It is."

[ Translations ] Weißte? = You know? (German) Sehr perfekt. = So perfect. (German) Molim = Varying uses; Contextually used as "Please" in a "You can't be serious" kind of way (Croatian)

#txt #my fics #r6siege #rainbow six siege #r6 siege #r6s iq #monika weiss #r6s osa #anja katarina janković #sogo 2024 #iq & osa #iq/osa #<- tagged as both platonic and ship bc it could be either lol

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ryuichirou · 1 year ago

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Miscellaneous Pomefiore-related asks

You have been in Pomefiore mood lately~ Can’t really blame you lol, I’m pretty much constantly in Pomefiore mood.

So if you sent us anything about Epel, Vil or Rook over the past couple of weeks, you’re very likely to find a reply in this post. I hope I haven’t missed anyone.

Anonymous asked:

I love how you ship Epel with men who would hunt him for sport. Rook and Floyd should have a competition to see who gets him first…

I can’t help it, Anon! Epel is just too darn huntable lol it’s his fault for looking like a widdle wabbit.

Rook and Floyd would indeed have a wonderful competition! Although I get the feeling that Floyd would get bored first lol

Anonymous asked:

Imagine Rook being a third wheel to everyone's ship and he finds it fun. Like seeing between Neige and Vil, which Neige is happy while Vil is a bit annoyed or the fact that he is between Leona and Ruggie that made them creep out to the hunter. Even him between Vil and Ortho.

This 100% sounds like something Rook would do. He hunts for love in all forms lol, both finds beauty in it and wants to participate... You never know with him, is he acting like a naturalist in a forest that watches animals perform courtship or is he just horny and wants to stick his nose into other people’s business. Well now I’m just describing a regular Rook Hunt lol

Whenever Vil goes, Rook would go with him and be an active part of his relationship, I feel like this isn’t even optional. Even if he isn’t a “boyfriend” boyfriend, he would always be there, sometimes in the bushes, sometimes in their bed lol

And if Vil tolerates it because he has a soft spot for Rook (any of his partners would tolerate him too, well, other than Floyd), I feel like Leona and Ruggie would freak the fuck out whenever Rook is around. Ah, wild animals~

Anonymous asked:

So all the dorms canonically wear make up, right? If Epel was in Savanaclaw like he wanted to be, do you think they'd have any easier time getting him to accept wearing makeup or do you think it would be harder?

I might be imagining things but I feel like someone has said at some point that some of the dorms use magic to apply makeup instead, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the Savanaclaw guys did this?? But even if they don’t, their makeup is SO subtle it barely exists. I think Epel would have no problem putting some paint under his eyes – it’s manly paint! For wild men! Leona-senpai does it too, so it’s cool! And manly!!

It’s nothing like using all of the products that Vil makes him use, I think.

Anonymous asked:

after this event I'm half tempted to ship Rook an Deuce together

Rook:"your stupid i love that in a man"

I COMPLETELY FORGOT THAT THEY HAD A MOMENT OMG YES YOU’RE RIGHT LOL

Deuce is so adorable, I like when cunning and dangerous men gravitate towards his earnest and not very smart self. Rook was definitely charmed lol

Anonymous asked:

GloMas fuck fest anon coming back yet again with another dynamic to offer you, imagine Rook finding out about Azul being able to grab Malleus horns and dominant him? He's already obsessed with trying to hunt him.. it wouldn't hurt to add Malleus onto his list, right?

Oh Rook is obsessed with anything that is animalistic and weird, so he would get so excited about this whole thing. We’ve seen Rook trying to kind of almost flirt with Malleus in his own creepy Rook way at least once…

He’s probably going to talk to Azul first though. To ask uncomfortable question about how exactly it went, what it was like, how Azul’s octopus instincts acted out during sex, is Malleus okay with someone pulling on his horns, does his tail show up, is it sensitive. Azul would freak the fuck out and tell Rook nothing lol

So Rook would have to try to hunt Malleus down himself once again~ But he’s better be careful about it…

And these two replies are related to this post about Epel and Neige making out lol

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

I'm sorry but the pure idea of Epel seducing Neige to make Vil feel better about something negative a Neige-fan said about him is an idea that lives in my mind rent free. Even better if during a photoshoot, Vil gets a text from his Pomfiore Trio Group chat and when he opens it it's a video of Neige getting breathless making out with Epel before it cuts to a video of Rook fucking Neige's brains out in some grass, face and uniform shown and everything, all this so he has evidence of something to bring drama to Neige, or could be yandere for him

Damn what a crazy situation that would be lol yeah, you could take this thing very far and to a very dark direction! I like the idea of Epel seducing Neige.

But to be honest, this particular scenario is not really our cup of tea because of the dynamic and positioning (Neige being the one to get his brains fucked out lol), and still think that Vil would rather be freaked out if his boys did something like this. The latter isn’t a reason for them to stop of course.

Anonymous asked:

XxNeige_is_Vil's_Biggest_Fan53Xx: ffs, guys.they were making out against Vil's Pic. clearly it's all an attempt to make Vil jealous!

WhiteAppleLover69: plz. U VilNeige shippers are pathetic. Just accept that Neige actually has taste.

VilsFutureWife184; 1rst of all, the ship name 4 Neige and Vil is PoisonPrince. 2ndly, any1 who can't tell that this is just a PR stunt is the truly delusion 1. Like, when has Neige ever made any indication that he's even in2 men?

VilAnti: uh oh the self shippers have entered the chat

VilsFutureWife184: At least i don't project the actions of the characters an actor has played onto them as an excuse 4 petty hate.

VilAnti: vil doesn't love u he can't love u

_XXJUICETHEAPPLEXX_: WHY R U ALL DOGPILING ON VIL?! CLEARLY THE FLOOZY IS TRYING TO USE NEIGE 4 HIS FAME!!!

ApplesRn'tPurple: If he was using some1, wouldn't he go 4 Vil instead?

PoisonPrinceTruther: He probably got shot down bcuz Vil is obvi in luv with Neige and decided to take Neige ad range!

_XXJUICETHEAPPLEXX_: NOW URE ACCUSING NEIGE? WUT IS WRONG WITH U PPL!!!???

Deuce: Epel, what are you doing?

Epel: Vil's making me read the Magicam comments about my scandal as part of my punishment.

Deuce: ....That's awful.

Epel: I would rather clean all the windows in Pomefiore from outside again, if I'm being honest.

Vil: That can be arranged.

Absolutely priceless, Anon. I laughed so hard and got war flashback as if I’m also a veteran of the twisted wonderland in-universe rps shipping wars this felt TOO REAL lol

I also love the fact that Vil made Epel read magicam comments as a form of punishment. This is so so brutal and so Vil-like. Epel needs to learn how to behave himself LOL

#replies

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scoundrels-in-love · 3 months ago

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Hello, I'd like you to break some asses down. No obvious characters for you, gimme: Kafka, Ginko, Ashton and Re-l. Thank.

Hi sibby bibby! Definitely not going easy on me with these, but let's see!

Kafka of Kaiju no. 8

He's so everything one can want in a main lead of a story. He's the beaten up dreamer version of a typical hero that grew up, accepted defeat, but remained kind and supportive. He throws himself whole into a second chance, never looks down on or hates younger people who have their successes come much easier. He's goofy, sweet, relentless, powerful in kindness. 10/10 would kiss on cheek.

Mina and Hoshina, preferable in world's most ride or die battle powerthrouple.

Reno and Kikoru, the kids he randomly found on a street and said 'is anyone gonna love and take care of these?' and then ran off with them without waiting for an answer.

Not involved in fandom enough to know what's popular fanon, but I think he's a needy switch and quite inexperienced because he was pining away for Mina. He takes to learning with gusto as with anything else, though.

That he wholly accepted it is him as person that made all of his efforts worth it, saved lives, not his monster-self. And also Kafkohismina downtime or battlethrouple scenes.

Ginko of Mushishi

He is so. *clenches fist* He says I don't care while he cares, so deeply. There is air of forever haunting melancholy and longing about him. A forever wandering half-myth that yearns to belong, that bears so many stories. He's so everything.

Adashino and Tanyuu. The letter writing ot3 AU we've created has changed me as a person, for the better.

Honestly? Same two. Their relationship is based on friendship, respect, unique bonds that are never on-screen romantic, so you can see them as you wish. Also I think he and Tama Minai have interesting dynamic that would be great to expand further. And of course Nui. Oh Nui.

Hits him with demisexual beam, just like every other character I love.

More on-screen maintaining of friendships with Adashino and Tanyuu via letters and the like. Also I know the point is that he can't settle down, that he is forever wanderer, but my heart can yearn for him to have a place called home.

Ashton Greymoore of Critical Role, Bell's Hells.

I admit I've fallen off the bandwagon and I wrestle with feeling like I misunderstood some things of his character since I can't quite understand some of their latest choices, but, in my heart of hearts, Ashton will always be LOML. I imprinted on them from getgo, instantly saw the undercurrents of care and golden, cracked heart they try to conceal. I just want to take care of them, so so badly, and to let them know they deserve it, no matter what. That they don't have to earn it or buy it. That they just have to be. Embarassingly, closest I've come to making OC to ship with someone, at height of my BH time.

Frankly? No one.

FCG, absolutely. I also think them and Orym make for an interesting 'our safety last, as long as our friends aren't hurt' kind of tank duo.

I don't like him and Fe*rne as a ship. Might be because her character as a whole doesn't appeal much to me, maybe because I don't see them embracing their growth and heart of hearts with her, whatever it is, it just doesn't tickle my fancy, but I fully respect character choices made by players. As long as Taliesin is having fun! He knows Ashton the best. Also I wish they'd been liked and appreciated by fandom for more than just being part of a ship. Before those took off, you could hardly find Ashton content. Even still, the focus on them is often quite shippy.

I am forever haunted by the time their worst fears were shown to be them losing control of themselves and the alternate lives shown as them being a king, a leader. I really wish they could embrace that more, be heard and seen, instead of sometimes their ideas even being attributed to other members of the party. There was a time when I'd have killed for a fic where they become part of Keyleth's entourage/just hang out with Ashari and get a chance to be comfortable.

Re-L from Ergo Proxy.

13 year old me thought she was the PEAK cool. One of aesthetic-bi awakenings. Did I want to be her or just stare at her? Yes. During rewatches as an adult, I have come to appreciate the complexity of her character and most of all, her growth from sheltered, straining-against-it young woman to a driven person with spiky shell, but that shell will also shelter others, if you earn her trust and her care. Considering how much was hidden from her, how much lies and betrayal she uncovered, it's hard to blame her for not being open with it immediately.

Vincent and particularly, Ergo Proxy. She and Mina would be gun-toting, monsterfucking besties for sure.

Pino and Re-l are such an underrated dynamic. There is something to be said about Iggy as well, especially since it's hard to tell if his pre-demise behavior was "truth" or not.

Too arrogant, uptight and demisexual to have had proper previous relationships. Also probably had some truly loser phases of makeup that Iggy has photos of.

I wish she had more time to unpack everything about Daedalus, her grandfather, who she is. The last act of anime didn't give many of these things any breathing room. I am fascinated to explore how she changed and grew in wake of it all.

Give me a character?<3

#sent on a cloud #lovely people #sibby bibby #ask games answered

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loopylostandfound · 11 months ago

Note

For the ask game, 001- BaroRyuu and 002- Barok van Zieks! :D

OH BOY BUCKLE UP

will contain dgs-dgs2 spoilers so anyone reading who hasn't finished the games, DONT LOOK LOL

baroryuu

- when I started shipping it

oh god oh jeez. it was after I'd finished the games actually, I wasn't into it at first. I think fanfic converted me and now I'm feral LOL

- my thoughts

HHEHRHRHEHRHRHRHHRHGGGHRJRNNGGNGNGGNG

no but for real uhhhh I love them. there's something soooo chefs kiss abt this dynamic. I love when big scary guy is absolutely brought to his knees by a cute little weirdo who believed in him. saved him even. hhhrhrhrhhr they are special to me and I'm squeezing them

- what makes me happy abt them

well all of the above hdwjksjfjd but uhhh I love the growth of their relationship a lot, especially on barok's end like he realizes his behavior was shitty and is genuinely sorry for it, I love that he's not too proud to admit this. and ryuu is always so patient with him and insists that he's good even though he's treated him badly ouhghhgh they believe in each other!! wheeee

- what makes me sad abt them

the fact that ryuu had to leave ouhsgsgdjjdjff you mean you LEFT him ALONE??? hhfhdjskdj no I know he had to go it's important and I wouldn't change it but oouuuhh the heartbreak. i feel these long distance feels all too well ough

- things done in fanfic that annoy me

when someone makes ryuu like. too wooby. like turns him into a helpless damsel or some shit lol it is not my thing, I like him to have agency jdjwjdjd and don't like when he's made out to be like. an idiot lol. also in a similar vein don't like when barok is made into too much of an asshole, he's actually a kind person to most he's just a bit gruff and has a lot of walls up lol

- things I look for in fanfic

im a well documented dom ryuu enjoyer hdjsjskfjfj so that for sure (altho I don't mind any dynamic between them, I just prefer this lol) but also I like relationship reveal fics, love confessions, and anything where barok's softer side gets to peek through a lot <3 hehehe

- who I'd be comfortable with them ending up with besides each other

kazuma. lol he's just the other part of my ot3 tho hdjwkskfjjf

herlock with either of them is a fun time but I have a hard time seeing him w either of them longterm, I think vanlock are exes lmao and ryuulock probably was a fling at some point but I don't think they'd end up together

yeah it's basically just kazuma hfjwkqksjdkdk like as a longterm thing lol

- my happily ever after for them

as stated above my ot3 is asobaroryuu (any configuration of the ship lol) so I like the idea of them all moving to japan and doing law stuff together lol they have a big house and adopt a kid or two! as self indulgent as possible here jdskkskfjfjf

- who is the big spoon/little spoon

i think most of the time ryuu is probably the little spoon bc it's easier given the height difference lol but sometimes it's barok bc sometimes even a bad bitch needs to be held okay !!! and ryuu likes holding his big scary bf it makes him feel good too hehe

- what is their favorite non-sexual activity

self indulgent answer: cuddles

possibly more realistic answer but still self-indulgent: goin on walks together and talking about everything and nothing. while holding hands. also facing off in court, I think they'd enjoy being able to do that without any animosity between them

thank u im insane!!!!!!! anyways

barok van zieks

OH BOY OKAY OKAY OKAY

- how I feel about this character

[10 minutes of screaming, breaking glass noises, clown honks, car crash sounds, ripping noises, growling, whimpering, crying, insane laughter]

very normal.

I love him a lot and I never expected to going into the games!! bc I had only seen negative things abt him and expected him to be this irredeemable asshole. but no!!! he's literally a huge softie inside actually???? and like. care about truth and justice which is more than one can say for many aa prosecutors lol like he's probably the most competent of the bunch, he's just a cunt to ryuunosuke at first but he apologizes later 😭 also I love the fact that he has bats in his office like it's both a great supplement to his goth vampire aesthetic but also seems to imply he likes animals and I love to imagine him feeding his lil fruit bats hdjskdjfjf. also he's so fucking pretty and i would climb him like a tree. im incredibly normal about his tits. and thighs. anyway let's move on

- all the people I ship romantically with this character

ryuunosuke n kazuma, at the same time preferably lol. herlock, albert, and genshin get honorable mentions as ppl i think he may have had a thing for/with in the past but i don't necessarily see as a Ship for me personally lol

- my non-romantic otp for this character

i want to see the vanlock exes to worsties agenda lmaooo they are never getting back together but they are going to make each other's lives worsebetter forever <3

- my unpopular opinion abt this character

hes a sub. like at least as a strong preference jdjwkdjfj and also even in a non-sexual way, I think it would be a great de-stressing thing for him to let someone he trusts take over for a bit and take care of him, kinda just let his worries melt away. big praise kink and worship kink on this guy I think :3

- one thing I wish would happen/had happened with this character in canon

i want uncle barok and iris interactions!!! he would be the best uncle he would spoil her rotten and she would let him lol

- my otp

asobaroryuu <3 I really think the three of them would balance out really well once they worked out their issues, baroryuu is my fav among the three pairings here n the only one that really stands on its own for me but I prefer them all together soooo much i don't like leaving kazuma out hes a little feral beast he spices up the proceedings lol

- my crossover ship

dont have one sowwy ;-;

- a headcanon fact

hes autistic. like holy shit. I saw this mans office w his constantly rearranged wine barrels and his specific custom made chalices n his whole like. aura. n was like aha. the tism. bdjskajxjdf but no fr theres more thn that that i cant think of now and i may be projecting here lol but that man is not neurotypical!!! :D

WAUGH tht was a lot lmaooooo

#THANK U WAUAUAHZGAHHH JFKWKDKDKKFD #ask games

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slashingdisneypasta · 1 year ago

Note

Alright. One ship down, four more to go! It's Greasypop's time to shine

(Also, I forgot to mention this in the Peezy thing. You don't have to respond or answer these. I'm just putting these in ask form so I can use colors and italics and such. I hope these are fun to read, but if you don't care for these just let me know ^^)

Since Greasy didn't give Poppy a clue to when they were going to strike like Wheezy did, she didn't pack her things and leave town. She knows that she can't stay in Toontown though, or else she'll be dipped too. Would Greasy even care if she was? With his cold sneer still fresh in her mind, she does wonder this. So Poppy would actually be more stressed here; she doesn't know when or how the weasels are going to destroy everything, and she has no idea how much time she has to get help.

Because this is Judge Doom's plan, and he holds an iron fist over the law, she'd be too scared to try to find help within Toontown. Who knew who was friend or foe anymore? But Poppy does make frequent trips out to the human world to try to talk to the police there. The judge is human, so surely the human authorities could do something about him?

Poppy also would be receiving plenty of calls from her... 'Friends'. Greasy must not have told him that they were over. Or he did, and they wanted to check up on her. They're sweet to her, at least... They'd care about that at least, right? She doesn't know how to feel about that. It pains her to keep telling Stupid and Psycho that she can't come over she already went through too much confronting Greasy; she doesn't have the energy to berate her misguided friends, especially once they start trying harder to convince her to come over are they trying to keep her safe or do they just really want to see her? And Wheezy's calm but concerned inquiries make her want to cry or scream. And Smartass... Well, he's Greasy's best friend. Surely if anyone of the weasels know what's going on with her, it'd be him.

Poppy decides to try to use these phone calls, though; the more desperation in her friends' voices, the closer to the date of the plan she believes it is. It's a long shot, but it's the only tool she has. Besides, it makes it easier for her to answer the phone now, even if her own fear grows with each call, and she still hasn't found anyone who will save the town.

None of those calls were from Greasy. Sometimes, she can swear she hears him in the background on the other end of the phone, but he never comes on. Not that Poppy wants to talk to him. He's knowingly destroying everything she loves. And worse still, he tried to keep her completely oblivious to it. As far as she's concerned, she'll never get back together with him, even if they decide to stop this terrible thing they're doing.

She wants to hate him. Dear God, she wishes she could. But she can only manage to hate the part of her that won't forget his adoring words. His touch that always made her melt in his arms. All the times they'd spend in the kitchen, cooking and laughing together. How he trusted her enough to show her his more softer, vulnerable side... God, what has he done to her?

It's late when she comes back home. Having just spent the whole day being blown off by the humans again. She's tired and sad and scared; it's almost been a week, and she hasn't been able to do anything... And there he is, standing outside her complex with the van across the street, his dark eyes focused on her for the first time since they broke apart.

"Mi vida... Come back with me." Greasy tells her, taking her paw in his own to hold and looking deep into her confused eyes... Poppy could swear she saw a hint of desperation behind his dark orbs. Desperation for her, just like old times, "Please... You can't stay here."

... No. No, he couldn't do this. He couldn't just do this to her. Not after everything he had done. Not with what he was going to do.

Trying her hardest not to cry she doesn't want to shed another tear over her former lover again, Poppy pulls away from him, and quickly turns to go inside. Greasy follows her, and opens his mouth to try to speak again, but she beats him to the punch, "Your charm isn't going to work. Not anymore."

Oh, how the tables have turned. Greasy now being the one trying to reach his love, and Poppy being so cruel to him; he had been deprived of her for so long, and now he only has her cold shoulder. He follows her as she walks up the steps, trying so hard to convince her to leave with him while they still have time. But in the short time on the steps, before she slams her door in his face- and locks the door so he wouldn't be able to come in- he realizes how badly he fucked things up with her.

She was supposed to come back to him. This wasn't how he planned for this to go. And now, when it mattered most, she just wouldn't listen to him... "Mierda..."

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about how this turned out, and I know that this technically hasn't taken place after the events... But at the same time, I felt like Poppy deserved to slam the door on Greasy after what he did XD I wonder how Greasy is gonna try to get her back home 🤔

How could I not care for these man?, I- they're wrecking my heart!! XDD (In a good way!! Haha)

Me before reading: OKAY Greasy here we go. This should be good. Me after reading: SON- OF A- B I T C H.

Okay so- Peezy may be my favourite s h i p- but this one may be my favourite f i c of this.

First of all-- he sneered coldly at her???? Oh my goddddd I love a cold sneer. I love it. I love Greasy being hateful and cruel. That sentence made me flip. XD

And- I- GREASY. You betrayed her and then you IGNORED her for weeks how did you think this was going to go??? Oh my goodness, the emotion this fic has drawn outta me, I cant handle it. MY FAVOURITE BIT IS THE OTHERS CALLING HER. Like?? Stupid and Psycho and Wheezy being kinda clueless and wondering where their friend has been?? Is she okay?? I can so imagine this. Stupid not having a clue as to what's going on, Psycho thinking Greasy probably hurt her but that doesn't mean they cant be friends right??, and Wheezy having a good idea as to what it could be but also thinking no. greasy wouldnt be that stupid and tell her this shit. so he's subtly trynna gage her for reasoning. And- them just getting more and more desperate the closer to the date they get and possibly wanting to warn her or just say goodbye?? POPPY POSSIBLY HEARING THAT ASSHOLE GREASY IN THE BACKGROUND??

I just- love that Greasy is so cold and cruel here, except for the last part. It fits his character so well (or at least the version of him we've all built up in our heads XD), and its so stirring. Ughhhhhhh this is the kinda writing I love to read and write. He's so close but so far away. This shit is what words are for. I cant even-

#and uh- i wonder how greasy is gonna try to get her back home'?#i have one simple word for you: kidnap.#that is all-

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astromechs · 2 years ago

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Ship kisses!!! 17. To distract, rebelcaptain? 👀

finally getting to these prompts, like, two weeks later; #writersblock, my nemesis. anyway shoutout to diego luna's headcanons about cassian being a good cook for inspiring this lmao

also on ao3! and still accepting prompts from this list :)

While he's cooking, Cassian only has one rule: Jyn can stay in the kitchenette they've been lucky enough to have installed in their quarters on-base and watch him all she wants, even help if she's so inclined, as long as she isn't a distraction.

It's not as if the process is more dangerous than any variety of others, even with the knives involved, but it requires a certain amount of precision — and therefore, his undivided focus. A split second can mean the difference between the right balance of flavors and a disaster no one could ever stand; now that there's someone eating his cooking aside from himself for the first time in years, that seems more important than ever. Maybe he could swallow something with too much seasoning, but he isn't going to give Jyn anything less than his best effort.

Of course, rules and Jyn don't exactly mesh. Even when she doesn't outright break them, she's always testing them, pushing them to see just how far she can. She has a tendency to stand at his back, to rest her chin on his shoulder (and likely rise up on the balls of her feet, given their height difference) as she watches him toss ingredients together — and to sometimes reach around his waist and sneak in what bites she can. He thinks: she's incorrigible in that way.

It's not a thought that comes with anything but fondness, especially now, when the reliable warmth from her at his back settles over him, too, when, during this one isolated moment in time, everything feels easy. Strangely uncomplicated, no matter the war still ongoing beyond these walls.

He feels her shift, one hand still resting on his shoulder (presumably) for balance as the other snakes around, snatching three cubes of cheese in the blink of an eye.

Turning on his heel, he says, "Jyn." His voice has no bite to it; in fact, its edges are rounded out and soft, a blunted knife allowed to be worn down well beyond its usefulness.

(It’s not so dangerous, he’s come to realize, to let that happen.)

"What?" Even without the slight puff of her cheeks betraying the presence of what she's stolen in her mouth, she's trying just a little too hard to feign innocence for it to be convincing. He lifts a brow, but she stays the course. "I'm being helpful."

Cassian can't help the faint snort that escapes him at that. Truth be told, he can't help a lot of things when it comes to her; he never has been able to, really, not since the day they'd met, but now that's a little easier to admit. With a sidelong glance in her direction, and his mouth just barely turned up at the corners, he tosses back, "Then you can pass me the salt. That would be helpful."

After a noticeable swallow, she exhales an equally noticeable sigh (which Cassian, of course, knows is both intentional and for show), but moves as requested, away from him, briefly, and toward the shelf where he keeps his stock of seasonings and spices. Even if her absence isn't long, and she's back by his side handing over the salt within seconds, any absence of her is long enough to miss.

During the transfer, her hand lingers over his for much longer than it needs, her fingers dragging away from his slowly. Her eyes meet his, unblinking, and his breath catches in his throat. With her hair mussed from the efforts of the day, strands of it escaping her ties, and a hint of mischief on her face that she isn't even bothering to attempt to conceal, he thinks — and not for the first time — that she is the most beautiful sight he's ever seen. And —

Like being locked in a tractor beam, he's helpless to do anything but lean in as she stands on her toes and presses her lips to his.

Everyone in the Alliance knows the fire that burns in Jyn Erso — and if the Empire’s turned a blind eye to it before, they’re certainly not missing it now. What she radiates is bright and brilliant, something that could easily spark out of control without purpose, yet once focused, can keep an entire fight going indefinitely, as far as anyone can tell. But there’s a side of that fire that only he knows, the one reserved exclusively for this room; it’s soft and gentle, and as it spreads between them, it seeps into his bones that creak beyond their years, fills in the cracks that he’s long forgotten. Feels like home.

He tries not to think of it in terms of luck, in terms of what he does or doesn’t deserve. Tries, and fails, ultimately, because the cloud of an unfair exchange will always hang over him, but in moments like this, when she sighs against his mouth as a thumb grazes over his cheekbone, he isn’t thinking at all.

Moments like this, which, of course, aren’t meant to last.

Just at the periphery of his awareness, he picks up on a subtle scent of something just beginning to burn, and so draws himself away from Jyn to turn his focus back to the cooktop. Even if there’s no verbal protest from her as he does, he knows how she’s looking at him without glancing back to confirm: there has to be a knit to her brow, and her mouth has definitely been set in a firm line.

On his own mouth, a smile tugs, visibly, at the corners.

They’re both silent for a time as he stirs, adding one pinch of the salt he’d been handed, and then another. Neither of them are excessively talkative people, so they can exist like this comfortably, but even so, there’s something that lingers in the air between them well beyond the end of the kiss. Something… unfinished.

And in the end, it’s incredibly distracting.

(That’s something that would usually annoy him, being distracted, and would still, coming from anyone else. But since it’s her, it’s different. Just like so much seems to be.)

Flipping the burners down, he shifts his attention back to Jyn easily, wasting no time in taking her into his arms and pulling her close, in returning her fire to him. It settles with no hesitation — as if it’d never left at all. He leans in, says low and hot into her ear:

"Ten minutes to simmer."

The glint in her eyes that flick up to meet his as he pulls his face back tells him that she’s reading him. She always does; they barely even need words to speak at this point. Still, she draws closer, until their lips almost touch, and murmurs, "That's all the time you need, surely."

He slips a hand under her shirt, smile curling into a smirk at the way she gasps as his fingers move over bare skin. The message has been communicated, loud and clear, but he can’t let the challenge go unanswered. "I don't even need that much."

Whatever she has to say to that is lost forever, claimed by his mouth in a searing kiss that she rises to meet.

And so are all his thoughts as he walks them back toward the nearest available surface, except for one: there’s no rule that says dessert can't come first.

#rebelcaptain #cassian andor #jyn erso #* fic #* prompt fic #asks #kitausuret #thank you for this!!#love writing them sm excited to do this again

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brooklynislandgirl · 6 months ago

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@ronmanmob {{from here because tumblr.}} {also tagging @nolegacies for reasons™}

Her wants are simple. Moreso, they are taken for granted daily by the average person; a roof overhead, something however small or uncomplicated in her belly, warmth against the cold she feels so keenly as there is little of her to act as a bulwark. Safety. Boy. Ron. The dogs. Those last ones all seem wound together by the fragile threads of hope and much as she might wish otherwise, she knows they cannot last long. Eventually, she and Boy will have to move on because if they remain then they will call trouble on the one person they've met willing to help them and that is something she cannot do. Ron does not deserve to bear the brunt of the violence normal people find themselves capable of enacting. And certainly not on their behalf. She cannot read minds though sometimes it would be ever so much easier if she could. But she can read body language. The very aura that surrounds him and she can see he's pulled somewhere dark, some place that doesn't make him very happy even if it's only in bits and shadows in his head. She can't help but remember the last time she'd seen this sort of look, and she's taken back to the night when Boy was hurt. When Ron made sure that particular man could never hurt Boy or anyone like him ever again. She remembers what she and Boy did about it, how they'd spent the night under the bridge huddle up together with their shared can of peaches and some damp crackers that they'd saved. She half shakes herself from her thoughts. Too close to the surface to think about right now with any sort of clarity. Ron would understand if she told him that but as always, she is soundless when she pours herself out of her seat. She watches him as she always does. Drinking in every minute movement, every breath, every word spoken. Hyper-vigilance that cannot be helped as it has soaked into her psyche. She will never not be that way. She doesn't see him as a direct threat though. If she did, she'd never flit to his side like a little moth. Small hands and feet stretching slightly toward the fed warmth as she plops down on her back-side. As she watches him retreat into the deeper recesses of the Trader, she lets her gaze drop to the now bright and warm flames. The dance between colours and sparks provides her a sort of blank canvas to let her thoughts wander once more. Treacherously her currents drag her back to where she was perched at the bar. The question of where they could go once they had to leave, to save Ron and Mountain and the people here that were so kind to them. She has heard whispers of a great man, tall as trees and steel-eyed, with long silver hair and an unbreakable will. He is one of them and does not tolerate the daily abuses heaped upon mutant kind. This man is a defender, a leader. Sometimes he has been accused of great harm but is this not a war? Are most people not content to see mutants at best shipped off to camps, or slaughtered in the streets? To be used in experiments, like Boy and her? Ron seems to understand what it is like to be different though she cannot quite put her finger on why or how. She only knows that he cares about them and has put himself on the line to protect them. Would the silver-man see Ron the way she does, the way Boy does, if he had to find some place to run to? And how would they find the silver-man. Would he welcome Ron as a friend? If the tides turned, would Ron and Mountain and the Nice Older Lady and the rest be spared? What if Silver-Mane is just a story? Someone made up to put a face on all mutants and to gather all the hate and fear in one place? What if there's no place to go? What happens then?

There are so many questions she has no answers to, and the stream of fear and anxiety slip from the corners of her eyes, tremble through her limbs as she wraps her arms around her knees while drawing them up tightly to her chest.

She is aware of his presence before she sees Ron reappear physically. He is careful to never startle Boy and herself as often as he can. He doesn't like being sneaked up on either. There has been a time or two where she has been so sure Ron is one of their kind, but she cannot sense in him the thing that sets mutants apart from humankind. She does sometimes think that maybe he'd speak to animals, if he could.

She reached out for the sandwich, the most substantial thing offered to her, and despite every urge she had to rip into it and shove as much into her mouth as she could ~which itself fought with the need to save half or more for Boy~ and for a few moments, she stared up at Ron with big wide green eyes set in her thin, hollow face. She makes a few small gestures, one that communicated her deepest appreciation, willowy thanks. Next the slow fingers tear a bit of sandwich off the end and put the piece into her mouth. As she chews slowly, she becomes animated once more. Fluttering fingertips anchored by heavier gestures that involve hand and arm. She asks why he cares so much, and why he helps the way he does. What is he getting out of it? Underlying the question is the distinct impression she has that nothing ever comes freely.

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the-bar-sinister · 6 months ago

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A Song for Ragpickers and Urchins (5825 words) by VickytheSnake, Dave Strider Chapters: 2/5 Summary: When a small-time band of young rogues and thieves take in a lost and lonely fallen noble their twisted star finally begins to rise. Urchins, vagabonds and slaves take up a scoundrel's life under a common banner— the jolly roger Donquixote— to claw their way to something like happiness in the miserable, cold-hearted factory towns of the North Blue.

catch up here

Life on a fishing vessel was probably miserable even if you'd theoretically signed up for it. The quarters were cramped and uncomfortable, the food was bad, the work began before daybreak and ended after sundown. It was backbreaking labor, and it smelled. It smelled constantly.

And Vergo hadn't even signed up for it.

Vergo was nine years old, going on ten.

The ‘orphanage’ he’d spent only a few years in before they decided to put him to work had all but sold him to the fishing vessel. He was a strong kid, they’d said to the captain. He must have agreed because next thing Vergo knew he’d been shipped out with nothing but the clothes on his back as he was thrust into a life of fish guts and brine.

He and the other kid who'd been dragged along— a boy somehow already both taller and wider than Vergo despite being a whole year younger— had been put to all the fiddly, uncomfortable, and disgusting tasks that were easier for small hands than for large. But that didn't mean that they weren't also put to grueling tasks of strength or endurance as well, and that wasn't even considering the beatings.

Now, six months later was the first time since leaving the orphanage that Vergo had been near land. Three days in port where the bo'sun had put him to work cleaning the belly of the ship, seemingly intent that he wouldn't even lay eyes on the port where they were docked.

Vergo stared down at the suds left behind as he pushed the dampened, stiff-bristled mop brush across the floor of the ship with the frustrated intensity of a boy desperate to be anywhere but here. His dark eyes glared daggers at the dirty old wood as he scrubbed harder.

“Wonder if we’ll get to see it at all,” he muttered half under his breath.

"They think we'll try to escape," Darger murmured. Vergo hadn't heard the other boy approach, but now found him lingering behind him, scrub brush and bucket in hand. The tanned skin of his arms was pale up to his elbows and marked here and there with blisters from the caustic soaps.

Darger had always been quiet, even back at the orphanage. Unlike some of the other boys, Vergo had never been one to give him shit about it– he understood more than most people exactly how important staying quiet could be.

Anyone who’d felt the heavy hand of the bo’sun, or the orphanage’s madame would know that.

He looked down at his own arms, flecked with much of the same damage as his, and frowned.

“Sometimes I think we should try, Darger.”

Darger got down on his knees and started scrubbing the grimy corner of the hull near Vergo's feet. He shook his head. "Too many of them. Another beating."

On the first day they'd been brought onto the ship, Darger had tried to make an escape. He'd gotten through three full grown men before they'd restrained him. Vergo had heard the captain tell him he was lucky they put him to work instead of just throwing him overboard.

Vergo’s attempt a month or so later didn’t go any better. It was hopeless to even try. His brow furrowed as he stepped over Darger and leaned against his brush. “You need power to get through guys like that.”

"Yeah."

Darger didn't say anything more after that, just cleaning and scrubbing quietly as if a dark cloud hung over his head. Vergo couldn’t blame him— there was something hopeless about the belly of this ship, trapped among the smell of fish and the brutal fishermen, that sapped your will away.

He scrubbed a little harder as more caustic soap splattered his hands.

Misery and the smell of fish hung in the air for who knew how long. But at some point, Vergo noticed something was wrong. There was a strange sound.

Fishermen up on deck were shouting.

That wasn't strange. But what was strange was how they were shouting. Like there was a commotion. Vergo had only rarely heard a cacophony of voices like this— once when a brawl had broken out on deck, and another time when one of the fishermen had fallen into the sea.

Given the fact that they were docked, it couldn’t have been someone fallen into the sea— though for a moment, Vergo's thoughts hitched and stuttered. Ever since a particularly brutal hit from the captain, sometimes his thoughts drifted away. Sometimes he forgot key details, or found himself down long winding trains of thought that inevitably took him out of the moment.

In this case, in this moment— he snapped his head up. “Someone should tell the captain to stop the ship. I think someone’s fallen off.”

"Huh?" Darger stopped mud scrub and looked up at him with large, uncomprehending eyes. "We're in port though."

“....We’re in port?” Vergo blinked owlishly at him.

"Y-yeah. Remember? We were talking about trying to escape?" he reminded softly.

His voice was almost drowned out by the sound of the yelling getting louder. Some of it had turned to screaming, and the boat rocked in an unfamiliar way.

“Oh yeah...” Vergo rocked with the boat, and nearly hit his head against the wall of it as he caught his balance. He looked around. “Oh! Yeah!! ..are we under attack?”

Darger grabbed tightly to the handle of his brush. "What should we do, Vergo?"

The shouting and screaming had almost abruptly it stopped.

It was replaced by the sound of boot-steps on the stairs coming down into the below decks.

“I guess we got two choices.” Vergo rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Die, or see if we can beat these guys up enough to make a break for it.”

"Right." Darger nodded, and gripped his soap brush. "Let's not die."

Someone was whistling. "Do I hear somebody back here?"

The voice was unfamiliar. A little musical.

Vergo saw Darger's eyes narrow and his nostrils flare. Like the day he'd taken his shot for freedom.

Vergo lifted his mop by the shaft, tucking one end under his arm and gripping the middle like it were a proper weapon as he nodded to Darger. “Go for the lower bits.” he murmured, “that’s the weak point.”

Darger nodded silently, and they both saw the shadow that crept over the wall as the figure came down the narrow ship's corridor.

The figure turned and came into view– a tall and rather gaunt man with a narrow face and a cheerful hat.

He seemed surprised to see them. "Uh."

And that’s when Vergo swung for his nuts with the end of his staff. The universal weak point among men.

"Whoa!"

For a second Vergo thought he'd connected— but something felt wrong. Instead of the man going limp, the scrub brush he was using as a staff went limp instead.

While he was grappling with that, a lot of things also happened at once. Darger was charging like a bull, even as the ground beneath their feet was starting to undulate like a snake.

And someone else was coming down the stairs.

"Hey, hey what the hell, Dia? Is somebody down here?"

Vergo stumbled on the rippling ground— and instead went to slap the floppy mop across the man’s face.

“I’m not gonna die like this! We’re gonna escape, right Darger??”

Darger said nothing– instead hurling himself directly at the man's knees despite the wobbling floor.

Now the man went down— growling and swearing— and Darger exclaimed. "Get him, Vergo!"

"Whoa, whoa!"

Something started to flood the corridor around Vergo's ankles.

It was probably seawater, if the ship was falling apart it made sense. He tried to rush forward and slap the limp makeshift staff across the man’s face again as a distraction.

Unfortunately, the 'seawater' seemed to be sticking him to the floor. He couldn't move.

"Damn it, Tre! You're gonna fucking drown me!" The first man swore.

"Hey, ease up. What the hell is going on?" The man who had thus far only been heard moved into view at the back of the corridor. From the ground, Vergo mostly could only see the ankles of his black boots and the hem of his heavy coat. "Dia, are those kids?"

"Yeah, kids who fucking attacked me!"

Vergo hissed softly through his teeth. “We weren’t just gonna roll over and die!”

Out of the corner of his eye he could just about see Darger thrashing in whatever muck was sticking him to the floor too.

The boots came forward, and the man leaned down just out of reach of Vergo's arms, stuck as they might be. He proved himself to be a soft faced man in a pair of pince-nez glasses.

"Hey, kid, hey nobody's going to kill you. What the hell are you doing on this ship?"

"Don't promise anything, Tre. I might kill 'em," the other man snapped. "Can you let me up now?"

"Not if you're going to make threats, Dia."

Vergo looked up at him, his face half stuck to the goop as he shifted and tried to stand despite it.

“They bought us from the orphanage. We’re…” he muttered. “We work here.”

"Orphans." Tre's soft face went hard, and he bent down further toward Vergo. "You're slaves, then."

"Oh no," Dia murmured, once again trying to pull himself up. "Tre, I know that tone."

Vergo twitched in the goop, looking up at him with a defiant stare. His dark eyes struggled to focus for a moment, another issue he’d started to have since the blow to his head. “...if you’re gonna hurt us, let Darger go. I can take it.”

"Vergo…" Darger struggled in the muck. "I can take 'em."

"Hey, hey, we're not going to hurt you, kid, we're the good guys here!" Tre inisted. "You don't want to be on this ship, right? Easy, we just took care of everybody on board. Right, Dia?"

"I mean, yeah, we did. Look, we came here to rob the place, not to kill kids, alright?"

Vergo stared at them from the muck, his brow furrowing. “...Darger? We’re not a treasure ship, are we? Did I forget that?”

"No, we're not," Darger said softly. He glared up at their captor. "Are you pirates?"

"Not exactly, not exactly," Trebol murmured. He waved a hand, and Dia finally sat up. Vergo and Darger unfortunately remained stuck. "We're more like gentlemen of fortune. Until recently, I was a slave like you."

"We're thieves," Dia said plainly, tugging on his coat. It rippled as if in a phantom breeze and traces of goop fell off of it.

Vergo blinked dazedly at him.

“A slave too? Just like us.” He frowned for a moment before he spoke up again. “You thief guys chose a bad ship. This is a fisherman’s vessel. Are you looking to steal fish?”

"See, Trebol?" Dia gestured at his partner. "Nobody robs a fishing vessel."

"And I told you it's a rich fishing vessel," Trebol said, standing up again, hands on his hips. "If you kids show us where the captain's quarters are, we'll get you out of here, and get you something for your trouble. How does that sound?"

Darger struggled to catch Vergo's eye.

Vergo looked over to meet his eyes as best he could, before he flashed a broad smile. “Sure! Just let us out and we’ll lead the way— but if you try and chain us up again after…”

"Hey, hey, no need for that, right Dia? I don't believe in chaining people up."

"He really doesn't," Dia grumbled. "You're safe with us."

The men– Trebol and Diamante– turned out to be as good as their word. They stole a large metal chest from beneath the desk in the captain's room, and then hurried up on deck where Vergo was treated to the sight of more than a dozen crewmen submerged and unmoving in the same thick, sticky substance which had held him down briefly in the hull.

"Are they dead?" Darger asked softly as they passed the captain, face down and identifiable only by his spurred boots.

"Well," Trebol murmured, noncommittally.

"Yeah." Diamante shrugged.

The spurs of those boots had bitten both Darger and Vergo more times than it was possible to count.

Vergo paused for a moment over the dead captain, squinting against the too-harsh light that sent his vision fussy and painful— before his face lit up in a vicious smile and he kicked the mostly-sunken back of his head as hard as he could.

“That’s for hittin’ me! For for beatin the shit out of Darger! And for being a prick!” He punctuated each exclamation with another kick to the dead man’s skull.

Darger's eyes widened a little– and then he got in a kick of his own.

Trebol looked on with a rather satisfied smile. "Good riddance, eh? But come on, come on, we don't want the patrols to catch us."

Diamante was already making ready one of the rowboats on the harbor side of the ship.

Vergo hissed one more time, before he held his hand over his eyes with a big grin. “...come on? You’re not just gonna go?”

"And let them catch you, eh?" Trebol said. "Throw you on another ship or worse– maybe you get arrested. Or drafted. Come on! Don't you want your freedom? I said we'd get you out of here."

Darger looked at Vergo. "I like the sound of that."

Vergo looked back at him under the shade of his hand, and nodded slowly.

“You know…I think I do too, Dar…don’t think we’ve had it before, right?”

Maybe it was sad that after they escaped rowing halfway around the island to Trebol and Diamante's little ship, that Vergo was eating the best and largest meal of his life.

At the table in the little cabin, he and Darger had been given bread that was almost fresh, large slices of cheese and preserved meat, and a whole bowl of fresh fruit.

In the corner Diamante and Trebol were murmuring back and forth.

"They're kids, Tre."

"They're strong. The big one rowed us halfway here after you complained about your arms getting tired."

It was a spread for a king, or— at least what Vergo imagined a king might eat. Either way he tucked in without hesitation, until he looked up , a bit of preserved beef stuck to his face as he watched them talk.

“Darger’s one of the strongest kids I know.”

Darger looked up with wide eyes. "Me? I guess I'm pretty strong. You're strong too, Vergo…"

Diamante glanced their way with a sigh, and waved his hand. "Fine, Tre, go ahead."

Trebol grinned a wide, toothy grin as he bustled over to the table, pressing his hands against the edge of it.

"Dia and I were thinking, if you wanted, you two could stick with us."

Vergo tilted his head to the side, beef still stuck to his cheek even as he put his finger to his temple to size them up.

“You guys are thieves, right?” They’d already said that…at least he was pretty sure.

"That's right, that's right," Trebol said. He grabbed a napkin, and carefully peeled the bit of stuck on debris from Vergo's face. "It's a hard world out there. The only way to succeed is steal from the rich, right?"

"The rich definitely have more to take from," Diamante drawled. "Not really much point in stealing from the poor. The bigwigs at the top are already squeezing us for all we've got."

"That's right, that's right," Trebol nodded.

Vergo nodded slowly and thoughtfully, giving Trebol a smile.

“They do have a lot. I remember back at the orphanage the madam had a safe with all sorts of treasures in it. Mostly gold!” He closed his eyes. “That does sound…better than working on a fisherman’s ship…"

"It sounds a lot better," Darger murmured in agreement..

Trebol clapped his hands together. "It is a lot better. I know from experience it's at least better than being chained to a desk all day."

Diamante shook his head and wandered by the table where Vergo heard the nearby crunch of fruit. "These kids are going to eat so fucking much, Tre."

A few days later Vergo wasn't sure if they were still on the same island that the fishing ship had been docked at or if they'd sailed to another island while he hadn't been paying attention. Either way, Trebol had him bustling through the street alongside him on a task Vergo was pretty sure involved peeking glances at shop ledgers.

"Hey, hey Vergo, I've noticed you've been squinting a lot," Trebol said, as they made their way down the busy, shop lined street.

Vergo looked up at him, but the sunlight looming above lanced through him like a shot and he quickly lowered his eyes with a squint and a nod.

“Sorry sir.” He waved his hand over his eyes. “Ever since the old captain took a bottle to my head I haven’t been able to see so good. The light’s too bright and sometimes it’s real fuzzy.”

Vergo felt Trebol grip his shoulder. "The bastard. He hit you on the head, did he? Might have knocked something a little loose in there. Wish I could drown him again just for that."

Vergo nodded as he squinted up at him.

“Yeah, he hit me real hard. But I ain’t dead, so it can’t be that bad, right? I think.” He put his hand to his chin. “...when you say knocked loose…does that mean there’s something rattling around in there?”

"Maybe, maybe," he murmured. Vergo watched him take the little dark glasses off his nose, and he handed them toward him. "Here. Look through these— does that make it easier?"

Vergo peered through them. They cut out the light— honestly, enough that it stopped bringing tears to his eyes at almost any moment. But on top of that, some of the fuzzier details almost swam into focus.

“Yeah, it does…it’s still kinda fuzzy but it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

"I thought so," Trebol nodded. "Alright, let's get you some glasses before we go to work."

"You look really cool," Darger said quietly when Vergo came back to the little room that they'd rented as a hideout.

It was kind of weird to be seeing everything in sharp clarity again. With the tinted lenses, the light no longer felt like a knife through his head, and with the fancy ‘pre-scribe son’ lenses Trebol had insisted on, it was almost like it was before the incident.

He grinned at his friend, pushing his glasses up with his finger, the oval lenses catching the light. “You think so? They’re pre-scribe son”

"Pre-scribe son," Darger mouthed back. He seemed to think about it for a moment, and then he nodded. "They look good for pre-scribed."

Trebol looked over from where he was talking with Diamante in the corner of the room. "It's prescription, boys. It means it's from a doctor."

“....but didn’t the doctor make them after he scribed a bunch of stuff down?” Vergo asked.

"Well, yes," Trebol admitted. He seemed a bit perturbed. "But that would make them post scribed."

Diamante laughed and shook his head. "Can we forget the glasses? They do look good, Vergo. But we were talking about robbing a jewelry store before we get out of town."

"Jewelry's pretty," Darger murmured.

“Thanks Dia!” Vergo grinned as he pushed up his glasses again “I saw a pretty nice one while we were walking. The led…Leader. It had a lot of entries on it, I think it got a big shipment, yeah?”

"Exactly." Trebol grinned. "And with the money we get from taking it, I have some ideas."

The life of a thief was definitely better than being captive on a fishing boat. The food was better. Vergo got to sleep in. Diamante was teaching him how to use a sword, and he even got to practice on people.

The more he practiced, the better he got. That was the way of it, right? Everyone always said that practice made perfect. But did that mean that perfect made practice?

His thoughts drifted down another passageway before he corralled it back into something sensible.

Life as a thief was so much better than being captive on a fishing boat. The foo– the looping thought stopped with effort.

He’d been getting a lot of practice on people and dummies alike— and especially dumb people. Somewhere along the line he figured out a trick, some strange buzz inside himself that when he tapped into it; his sword hit twice as hard, and the return blows didn’t hurt half as much.

It made fighting really fun. The only time it wasn’t fun was when someone broke or knocked away his glasses, which just made him really mad.

At some point Trebol had noticed Vergo's 'trick' and told him that it was something called 'haki'. After that they'd stolen some books– presumably about the subject– and Trebol was giving him tips on how to improve.

All the while they must have been getting richer. The food was nicer. The clothes were nicer. Diamante's new sword had jewels in it, and Darger had been allowed to keep some of the bracelets that came from the next jewelry store that they'd robbed.

And besides haki, Vergo had learned the secret behind the strange powers that Trebol and Diamante had. Something called devil fruits, which Trebol now had them sailing island to island looking for.

For the first time in his entire life Vergo felt like life was going well. Haki was surprisingly easy to pick up and mess around with, and he was getting better every day with Trebol’s help, and Darger looked happy with his shining bracelets.

But Vergo was interested in their quarry.

“What are you guys gonna do with the devil fruits when you find them?” he’d asked Trebol.

"Oh people will pay a lot of money for them," Trebol explained with a grin. "More than they'll pay for gold or jewels. But I was thinking it might be good to have a few more talents in the gang– if we find some good ones anyway. Hey, did you know there's a whole encyclopedia for identifying them?"

Vergo rubbed his chin in the attempt to look as smart as Trebol.

“Hmmm…I did, I did know that.” He did not, as a matter of fact, so he continued. “But Darger didn’t. So you should tell me about it anyway.”

Trebol was more than happy to talk about it at length. Vergo even remembered some of it later.

#vergo #trebol #diamante #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote family #one piece #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #archive of our own #ao3 #fic: ragpickers and urchins

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kae-karo · 2 years ago

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Kaveh and cyno (ship or not idc)

KAVEH AND CYNO MY BELOVED for context (x)

i was literally just talking to rose abt them but i think they'd be unexpected besties tbh??? like, kaveh rambling for hours and hours about whatever while cyno listens thoughtfully and makes his own comments when kaveh finally pauses to take a breath, cyno finds his rambling to be a nice distraction and i just get the vibe that cyno doesn't like,,,,,get emotional/social cues very well?

and kaveh is SO expressive. like. borderline theatrical in his manner of speech and expressiveness. and cyno just finds it so much easier to have a conversation with him cause there is absolutely no guesswork involved in determining what's going on or how kaveh feels or what he's thinking, he wears it so plainly on his face. so if not a ship, they are at least super comfy with each other

kaveh doesn't feel like he's being talked down to basically ever, cyno speaks so directly and sometimes without tact, but there's no sarcasm or superiority complex to contend with, and cyno always has some kind of unexpected insight into his projects or ideas

and i think too that cyno appreciates such a distinct but no less thorough perspective? cause kaveh is like. creative, works outside the bounds of the "rules", sees the world in ways cyno doesn't, and it's a refreshing change of pace to get out of his mind in a way that kaveh facilitates so well (by virtue of his theatrics lmao)

anyway i think they're so so good, ship or not, and i hope they get to be besties in canon lmao

send two genshin characters (ship or not) and i'll give u my take on their dynamic

#genshin #genshin impact #ask game #cyno #kaveh #ask #epistemologys

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alyssalenko · 1 year ago

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Remembering Revan

Revan is slowly coming to terms with the loss of their memories, thanks to Carth, and the two of them seek solace in each other…

written for the @kotorgiftexchange. Also on AO3 if you prefer.

It was in the early mornings on the Ebon Hawk when Revan let their guard down and let Carth into their world and he cherished every second of it.

He leaned against the door frame watching Revan as they stood in front of the mirror, fingers tripping over each of their scars–old wounds they'd endured; they’d lived hard and each scar told a story, stories he wanted to know but didn't dare bring up. When he'd first asked about them, Revan had almost cried when they'd realized they didn't know--it must have been so odd to look in the mirror and see so many scars, but have no idea how they were acquired. Something so small but significant because it was a part of their history, but a part they didn't know and couldn't remember. Sometimes he wondered how they could keep it together, and be so strong all the time. The Jedi had done a good job rewriting the brain of the once Sith lord--the memories taking their sweet time coming back, and so he'd pretend he didn't see how their hands shook whenever they were tracing the unfamiliar scars with their fingertips, Carth crossing the room and lacing their fingers together to stop the trembling and pressing his lips to Revan's shoulder. For a while now he'd been making it a point to kiss every scar on their body, hoping to replace all the missing memories with something new and good.

Revan sighed and leaned back into Carth's embrace, forever grateful to him for always being there, even when he was grumpy and didn't always want to talk.

“You're thinking far too hard for how early it is.” He whispered, breathing in the scent of their hair.

They let out a dry laugh. He was probably right, but Revan couldn't help it--they were trying to remember an entire lifetime, one of a Jedi and one of a Sith and find the real Revan underneath all that. But having him near made everything easier.

It felt like their destinies had been intertwined since the moment they met, Revan inspiring him to be the best version of himself and he loved everything about them, every scar, every freckle, their laugh, how they fit together like two puzzle pieces meant to be joined and the bits of them that showed through the altered memory. They'd lost literal years of their life, piecing it together from stories from Bastila and the Jedi and Malak and the Rakata, as well as what they remembered themselves, but unless one had all of them, they never got the full picture of who Revan actually was. But Carth had gotten all of it. He knew who they were now, what they'd done--and yet he still accepted them... loved them. He loved everything about them, and at this point he knew them maybe better than they knew themselves. They were glad he had been willing to give them this chance; ready to reconcile their past while facing their future and blend their two identities--their heart laid bare...for him, all while helping them regain themselves. It was because of him.

“Just thinking about how lucky I was to meet you, despite the circumstances.”

“You mean the ship being attacked and us crash landing on Taris and needing to work together to survive and escape? I think it may have been sheer dumb luck pushing us together.”

“Or fate.”

Their chance meeting on board the Endar Spire seemed like a lifetime ago, and yet Trask's sacrifice had started the chain reaction of events that had ultimately brought them together and helped them fall in love. Having lived as both a Sith and a Jedi, Revan had a chance to learn from their past and become better than they were, instead of chasing the ghost of who they once were, a chance to encapsulate the best of both worlds and become a gray jedi, just like Jolee. Carth smiled at them in the mirror, nuzzling at the skin of their neck with his nose, beard tickling their reddening throat. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the whisper of fabric between their bodies. Revan's heart fluttered in their chest at the contact, pulsing in time with his. He took their hands in his own, magnetic eyes seeking theirs in the mirror, a small smile playing about Revan's lips as they glanced down, rubbing their thumb along his knuckles. No matter what came next Revan didn't intend to let him go--he was their rock, their everything.

Standing here, together like this, Revan couldn't help but think that maybe the Jedi had done them a favor by wiping their mind, not that they would have thought so at the time, and they were furious when they'd found out, but without it, they never would've met. And at this point, they didn't want to imagine their life without Carth in it--they’d happily spend an eternity like this…with him, kissing, laughing. After they took down Malak, they'd gladly walk into a future with him by their side.

“Come on. It's still early and I think you could use a distraction.” Carth picked them up princess style, and carried them over to the bed, depositing Revan gently in the middle of the mattress and pulled the blankets up around them.

He walked around to the other side and climbed in, Revan immediately curling into his right side, head on his arm, and their right hand splayed across his chest feeling his heartbeat under their fingertips. This was the side of them most people never got to see, and Carth counted himself extremely lucky that they let him see their walls down; under the Force hardened shell, Revan was just as vulnerable as everyone else but didn’t have the luxury of being able to let it show. Not with everyone watching and waiting for them to mess up or revert back to the Sith lord that had once struck terror into the hearts of the entire galaxy. They didn't even feel a connection with the person that they were, and they were slowly coming to terms with the fact that they maybe never would. As long as they had Carth, they were okay with that.

“Alright Carth. You win; distract me.”

Carth hummed in contentment and captured their lips in a heated kiss, Revan focusing on the warmth of his body against theirs, the two of them ready to lose themselves in one another.

#kotor gift exchange #scars #carth onasi #carth #revan #memory loss #solace #kotor #knights of the old republic #star wars #star wars knights of the old republic #star wars: knights of the old republic #sw: kotor #from the desk of alyssalenko #alyssalenko original #alyss writes #gift fic

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