#but she's the main carry now I guess. and main healer too because why not | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bokettochild · 3 years ago

Note

Request: Fairy Hyrule, Minish Four and Bunny Legend cuddlefic? Mostly because I love the idea of hugging a bunny ten times your size. THINK OF THE (literal) FLUFF AND SOFTNESS

So... I got a bit caught up in the WHY of them all being Small, and... this happened.

It all got deleted halfway through and I had to rewrite it from memory, but it turned out okay (although I don't like the flow as much this time through), bt it's... a bit long. This baby was ten pages, and it took forever to get to the cuddling bit- sorry about that.

Anyways, Anon, here is your (long overdue) Tiny fic (it ain't tiny).

The others are laughing and it’s making him mad. Usually, he’s just smack them over the head (a much good as it would do, curse his weak arms) but usually he can reach that high.

Right now, he can’t.

Because right now, he’s a freaking rabbit

He’s a little pink rabbit sitting in the middle of a circle of heroes who are all laughing at him, and more than anything he wants to hop his freaking furry tail over to Warrior’s horrid choice of footwear and bite the shit out of the captain’s ankles; he deserves it (the rancher does to).

“How did this happen?” Hyrule wheezes out, and even though he wants to be, Legend finds that he can’t be mad at the healer, not when the kid’s face is flushed with laughter, his smile bright and carefree, golden gaze watery under the force of his bell-like laughter as it pricks at Legend’s sensitive ears.

“I don’t know!” Twilight wheezes from where he’s leaning against Time, hearty chuckles exploring from him unabashedly as he looks down at Legend. “We were scouting around the camp and when I turned around,” He gestures weakly to the veteran, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “Rabbit!”

Legend scowls. He doesn’t even know what happened. One minute he was walking and the next he was tumbling head over paws on the pathway. He’d refused to let Twilight carry him back to camp (if only to try and maintain whatever dignity he had left) and had waited hopefully for Twilight to retrieve the Master Sword for him, only for Warriors to stumble upon him with the darkest expression he’s ever seen on the captain’s face.

Warriors’ expression at seeing a rabbit might very well haunt Legend’s dreams for ages to come, and had prompted a squeak of fear from him that had sent Sky darting up from his seat. “Legend!” The Chosen Hero had shouted, concern in his sky-blue eyes as he had skidded to his knees at Legend’s side, cautious hands scooping him up and inspecting him for injuries in the brief moment where he was too shocked to protest. Of course, he wouldn’t stand it for long, and after pawing at Sky’s fingers with angry huffs and squeaks that he was going to hope the others would forget about, he had been released back onto the ground.

Which landed them where they were now, surrounded by cackling heroes as they stared down at the fluffy pink ball of fur that was their salty veteran.

“Wow vet, I��d’ve never guessed, a rabbit?” Warriors wheezes, eyes full of mirth. “No wonder we don’t get along!”

He rolls his eyes and growls as best as he can as a rabbit (not like he can growl anyway, but he tries none-the-less). “Just hand over the Master Sword so we can get this shit over with.” He squeaks, ignoring how his growls sound more like honks and chitters than anything threatening.

Sky looks at him oddly, as do several of the others, none of them (save Twi and Sky) apparently expecting him to be able to speak in this form, but the Chosen Hero obliges regardless, reaching back for the Master Sword and carefully settling it within Legend’s reach.

The cool cross-guard is comfortable under his paws, even if it is too big, and he sighs in relief as the power of the blade flows over him. In a moment, his form will disappear into the light and reappear, whole and Hylian, and fully capable of kicking some rancher ass.

Just a moment....

A second more...

He blinks his eyes open, violet flitting across the blade in mounting concern as he takes in the fluffy pink paws that are where his hands should be. Why isn’t it working? Why is he still a helpless rabbit?

“That’s weird.” Twilight and Sky both murmur, exchanging a worried glance as the Skyloftian retrieves the blade. He lunges after it though, not giving Sky a chance to inspect the blade and instead startling him with the weight of a rabbit in his lap as pink paws reach up to grasp the sword hilt again.

“Fi, explain.”

The sword spirit’s voice rings clear and cool in his head as Sky lowers the blade further, better into his reach. He hardly processes the motion, so focused on the words, which is perhaps why he doesn't question the stabilizing hand that lowers onto his back.

“Young Master,” Fi chimes softly in his mind. “The forces which have transformed you are not dark in nature. There is a 76% chance that they are in fact, of nature themselves. As such, my blade is unable to undo the curse. You will likely have to wait until this curse runs its course.”

“How long.” He grates out, nose shivering in irritation as his ears flick back, brushing gently against the Skyloftian's fingers and making Sky gasp softly.

“Processing....There is a 49% percent chance that this curse will fade and return you to your Hylian form in approximately three days' time, and there is a 27% percent chance that it will take a week for said change to occur. Additionally, there is a 15% percent chance that the curse will not fade, and a 9% chance that this curse will make you explode.”

A strangled screech escapes him and he doesn’t even realize his paws have released the sacred blade until they are grasping at his ears, tugging with all of the pent-up emotion inside of his body as he processes the words. Never mind the exploding bit, he might not turn back? There’s only a fifty-fifty chance that he’ll turn back in the next few days?

Sky’s long fingers drag through his fur gently, rubbing soothing circles over his back. “What did she say?”

“Three days!” He tugs his ears again. “Three days of being utterly useless and helpless, and it’s not even certain that I’ll turn back! I could be stuck like this forever! I could explode!”

“Exploding doesn’t seem likely-” Twilight attempts to calm him, but it only makes him tug his ears harder.

“Fi said it might happen!” He shouts back, high pitched and squeaky, and hating every second of it. He buries his face in the fabric beneath him, his rabbit heart pounding with panic and cold dread washing over him as the words continue to spew from his mouth. “And if Fi said it could happen than it might! And we were about to go into battle too! What’ll happen if someone gets hurt? I can’t help anyone and there's absolutely nothing that stupid bunny could do and-”

Someone’s scratching his ears.

Long fingers rubbing just right between them and Legend is helpless to tell them to stop because he’s too busy melting into a puddle in Sky’s lap at the sensation. All thoughts flee as he lets Sky’s hands drive away all worries. Should he be worried that he’s rendered speechless and vulnerable by something so simple? Probably, but Sky seems to know just how to place his hands and Legend can only hum in appreciation at the feeling, a squeaky purr escaping him as he leans into the sensation as Sky hums something soft and soothing under his breath. The vibrations carry down his fingers and tingle down Legend’s spine, calming him further.

“Cute.” Twilight's voice breaks him from his thoughts, and he’s pulling back from Sky’s hands and glaring up at the rancher with all the fury he can fit in his now tiny body.

“He’s not wrong, Kit.” Time chuckles soft and low, and Legend whips his head around to stare at the man.

“Oh no, you are not giving me a nickname!”

“Yeah Time,” Sky’s voice is low and mirthful as he speaks, hand once more settling on Legend’s back as he lifts an arm to block the vet from launching himself at their leader. “He’s my descendant, if anyone should be giving him a nickname it’s me.”

“How about Nibbles?” The sailor grins, leering into Legend’s space with enough mischief in his gaze to kill a Lynel. “I mean, the vet is always chewing us out.”

He forgets for a moment that his growls sound more like chirps in this form, baring his teeth at the sailor as he attempts to frighten him off. It doesn’t work, rabbits aren’t made to scare off bigger animals “So help me sailor I-”

Large hands scoop him off the ground and suddenly he’s being cradled in Sky’s arms. Like a baby. The indignity! “Calm down, Bun, he’s just kidding.” Sky’s crystal eyes glimmer with genuine concern as he looks down at Legend. “And we’ll find a way to change you back, I promise. The goddesses wouldn’t have let you change like this if it was for the worse. You’ll see,” Sky bops his nose with a smile entirely too pure. “It’ll be fine.”

Legend would like to argue that point, the goddesses have never shown any particular interest in what’s best for him before, and most of them seem to find humor in ruining his life time and again (except the Golden Trio, they’re alright he guesses, especially Din), but Sky looks so certain and Legend’s honestly too tired to start a big fight about Hylia again. (Heaven knows the last time he made Sky mad he nearly shat himself at how terrifyingly defensive Sky could get about those he loved). It doesn’t matter anyway, he supposes, as Sky’s already standing and making is way back to their main camp, gait just smooth enough not to jostle his reluctant passenger as Legend slumps in place.

He might as well let this happen, at least until he can figure out how to fix it.

It’s official.

Legend hates being a bunny.

They’ve settled down for dinner and as if to mock him and all that he loves, Wild has been struck with the inspiration to make his absolutely heavenly radish stew. The one that Legend would literally sell some of his rings for because it is that good.

And he can’t eat it.

He tried, and that attempt resulted in both himself and Sky covered in broth, the thick liquid clinging to his fur now as he sits on the ground with some raw fruits and vegetables instead. He doesn’t know that he’ll ever be able to eat it again without being forced to remember nearly drowning in the stuff.

He feels like a baby and he hates it.

He’s soaked himself and his ancestor and food and Warriors still isn’t done tittering about it.

He really hates being a bunny.

The others have nearly stepped on him numerous times, simply because they aren’t used to having to watch underfoot, so every time someone walks over to Wild to get seconds (why did the Champion sit next to him and Sky in the first place?) he has to back-peddle onto his haunches to avoid being crushed under heavy boots and even heavier feet.

Add to that that Wild and Wind both subconsciously reach out to pet his bedraggled fur every few minutes and he’s absolutely fed up with this shit!

At least the Champion was willing to lend him something to dry his fur off with, and even if he hates it, the spare brush Warriors has on hand does a decent job of detangling his fluffy hide. If he melts a little in Twilight’s lap as the rancher goes over him with the brush than no one says anything (although both Sky and Time have infuriating matching smiles on their faces).

But then it’s bedtime and Time is sorting through his things to try and make sure that no one person will have to carry all his stuff, and he’s reminded once again how utterly useless he is in this form. It only makes things worse that he knows that the others will be burdened with his bags, and considering his top speed at the moment can only be held for short sprints, he’s pretty sure the Old Man is going to have someone carry him too.

The very idea makes him puff out his fur in irritation.

At the very least though, he doesn’t have to worry much about how he’s going to handle the cold nights, Sky’s already taken his beloved sailcloth and bundled it into a little nest, and the minute Twilight is done with his fur the Chosen Hero is scooping him up and laying him in it (absently, he wonders if Sky might have a stronger paternal instinct than Time and if his own small form is triggering that). The fabric is warm though, and it’s nice. If Sky curls up around him in the middle of the night though, well, he supposes there’s not really much he can do about that.

Sky does curl around him and he’s trapped.

The Skyloftian may look soft and cuddly, but he’s got an iron grip when he’s asleep, and it’s only by the pure squishability of his current form that he’s able to escape (Sky will be disappointed when he wakes up, he knows, but even so, Legend doesn’t intend on staying a rabbit, not for a whole week, especially when there’s monsters out there.

Perhaps the thought of said monsters should dissuade him, but it doesn’t. He knows now what triggered this change, and he’s determined to hunt it down and trick it into changing him back, he just needs to escape his babysitters for a hot tic in order to do so.

It’s a lucky thing that Four and Warriors are both so drowsy that the feather light step of a rabbit doesn’t catch their attention as the two sit on watch, and Legend’s able to creep over to his bag (positioned with Twilight’s things) and dig through it until he finds what he needs.

You can’t go making deals with the fae unless you have something of value, or those tricksters will rob you blind and steal your first born. Not that Legend ever intends on having kids, but on the off chance that he ever did he’d rather they didn’t have a shitty life because he made an error in dealing with a forest sprite.

Come to think of it, how powerful are the forest people of this time?

Warriors looks seconds away from walking up to Sky’s sleeping form and throwing Legend as far as he can into the distance, and it’s making Four nervous.

Rationally, they know that Warriors wouldn’t consciously do such a thing, but they also know how much Warriors hates rabbits in general, and that the captain’s initial instinct at seeing them is to toss them away from himself as far as possible (never mind how rare a real rabbit is, Warriors’ time is apparently full of them and Warriors hates them). They’ve heard the story, how the captain was made to hunt rabbits down across his world and return them to their homes, the fact that he did so by throwing them is a bit concerning considering the delicate bone structure of the animals, but it’s not Wars’ fault that he doesn’t know that.

All the same, Four would feel a bit more secure if they knew that Wars wouldn’t be doing such a thing. (Rationally, they know he won’t, but rationality is only so much of the equation).

“I’m gonna check on the vet.” They murmur softly to their companion. Somethings not right and they hope it’s just Warriors’ previous retellings of his own rabbit-escapades eating at them and not something else. “Sky’s got a grip like a vice when he sleeps and I don’t want him getting crushed.”

Never mind that being small sucks when it’s this cold out. Four desperately hopes that it won’t rain tonight (although the air tastes right for it).

“Rabbits are tough little things,” The captain chuckles. “I’m sure he’s okay.”

Vio wrenches control from the others, gaze flat as he stares out at Wars. “You do know most rabbits can’t survive being thrown, right? They’re not like cats, if they land wrong their done for.”

The captain pales slightly but doesn’t say anything, and they take that as their cue to stand and make their way over to where Sky and the vet had bedded down for the night. Sure enough, Sky is curled up around the sailcloth nest he made for Legend like a child curled around their favorite stuffed animal (or Red with any of the rest of them), but at the very least it doesn’t look as if Legend would have been smashed, just caged. They wince, the vet doesn’t sleep well on a good night, but waking up to being trapped? That is...not good. There’s a reason they never force him to join everyone else when Red takes over and calls for a cuddle pile; everyone knows that the most Legend will stand is letting Hyrule hold his hand while he sleeps, and even then, the vet will still pull away when he finally does fall asleep.

Sky shifts (he’s a heavy sleeper, but all the same he moves a lot), arms wrapping tighter around the bundle in his arms. Tight enough that the sailcloth gives way. Sky’s face screws up in his sleep, wrapping even tighter around the bundle as if seeking out some form of resistance.

Four panics. Bunnies are delicate creatures and Sky is strong, did he just crush Legend?

Only, looking closer, Vio points out that there isn’t even a hint of pink amidst the fabric, and when Four dares reach out to test the bundle himself, they find that there is nothing within its folds.

“Four?” Warriors’ voice is tinged with concern as Four stand back up from his crouch, brows pinched together as he scans over the camp. “Is something wrong?”

“Legend’s missing.”

The captain’s brows shoot up, but thankfully he doesn’t bother with questioning them, instead hoisting himself to his feet and making his way around the camp, an ever-growing frown marring his features as he looks around. “Did he choose to sleep with Hyrule instead?” It’s a soft murmur, likely only spoken aloud because Wars is too tired to stop it before it reaches his mouth, but Four’s eyes flick over to where the Traveler sleeps regardless.

“I don’t think so.”

“Look,” Warriors groans softly, not loud enough to wake the others, stopping at Twilight’s bedroll and motioning to the bags stacked near the rancher's pillow. “His bag is open.”

“You don’t think he climbed inside of it, do you? We’d never find him!”

The captain gives him a look, blinking once before shaking his head. “No! But he was clearly trying to get at something.” Royal blue eyes turn to stare out at the forest. “What are the chances he went back out there, alone?”

Four hesitates, fingers drumming on his thigh as the colors swarm in his mind. “I don’t know, but I should probably check.”

“We need to watch camp.” The older hero frowns.

“You watch camp, I’ll go out there.”

“You can’t go alone, Four, it’s not safe.” Wars reminds him, concern glinting in his gaze as he turns back to the smithy.

“Fine.” Blue’s the only reason they roll their eyes, they swear. “I’ll take Hyrule. If the vet’s fallen down a hole or something then we can take care of it immediately.”

A smile breaks out across Warriors’ face, even if it is slightly strained. “Funny how that’s even a risk now.”

“Don’t I know it.” Besides, at least Hyrule seems to have a second sense for these sorts of things. Like Sky and Twilight, he has a knack for tracking down the others, especially if he needs to find Time for whatever reason. Four’s seen it themselves, it’s uncanny, but incredibly useful, so they’ve never really questioned it (Vio has, Vio has questioned it enough to give them a head-ache).

It’s the work of a minute to shake the traveler awake, as he’s one of the lightest sleepers of them all, and it takes even less time for them to be off, the simple words “Legend’s gone” being enough to send the traveler springing up and following closely after Four, one hand on his sword as the two of them make their way back into the depths of the forest.

Legend should know better than to try and make a deal with the fae.

Hyrule can recognize the look of a fairy about to claim her prize in an instant, and it appears Legend is about as clueless as a bunny can be about the loophole that he must have left open in whatever twisted deal the two have concocted. Anger burns in his blood as a whisper-hisses through his teeth, a few words all it takes before he’s zipping between the two of them, wings beating furiously as all six of his eyes stare into those of the other with nothing short of pure fury.

“Mine!” He hisses, darting forwards in a fake charge at the other, wings whirring angrily as his eyes stare at them “Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine!” His voice contorts and buzzes, his aura flickering brighter and sharper as he zooms down to hover over Legend’s ears. “MINE.”

“What is your claim?” The other chimes smugly. “What promise or service marks him as yours? Where is the Mark that makes a mortal the charge of a fae, hmm? Show it to me and I will release him to your care.” Glistening teeth glimmer as multiple eyes glisten with malice, jealousy over a potential catch making the fairy’s gaze spark dangerously. “Else ways, leave us be, our deal is near set and you have no business to interrupt it.”

“His true form,” He hisses. “There is my Mark on his hand. The Triangle, my symbol.” He hisses through bared teeth, every eye slitted and glimmering with fury. He can’t lie, not even if he tried, but he’s fae and they’re more skilled than anyone at finding tricks to get around things. The triforce is his symbol, something he’s recognizable by in his world, but it’s not only on his hand, the others bear the same mark and even if it isn’t Fae in origin, it's from the Scared Realm and none can deny that it sets them apart. Anyways, the Fae know mortals by their markings, this should be enough of a claim to make her renounce her dealings with Legend.

No fae dares mess with the Charge of another.

“What is your proof? Can you show me?” She taunts.

“My power isn’t that strong.” He hisses. “You do it and then you’ll see!”

“And give him what he asks without receiving my due? Oh no little Half-Blood.” She glares at him. “Give me Good Reason or leave alone.”

“He is goddess born.” He hisses out finally, grasping at straws. Mother only taught him so much of Fae law, but surely there’s something against touching those blessed by the heavens, right? “Hylia’s child descended. To touch him or any other of Mine is to plead wrath from the Scared Realm.” A sly smile slides over pointed teeth. “Would you wish that on Yours?”

She pales. “Mark your own in all forms, Halfling. This would not happen if you did.” It’s all she cares to say though, zipping away without another word.

“Do I want to know what I just avoided?” Legend’s voice croaks up at him, faint and pitchy all the same as he looks up to the fairy above him.

“I don’t know. But never, and I mean NEVER, make deals with fae again. Not even me! You can’t break promises or be too careful, you never know what they’ll do.” Two of his eyes glance over his shoulder to ensure that the other Fae is gone for good.

“I was trying to be careful.” Legend huffs, his breath sending Hyrule higher over his head for a moment before the fairy regains his balance. “They’re clever little-” He cuts off, violet eyes narrowing and bunny nose shivering as he looks up at Hyrule again. “You’re a fairy.”

His aura dims slightly, wings drooping ever so slightly as he looks down at his mentor. “Yes.”

Legend stares, violet piercing and sharp. Hyrule has never noticed the hint of gold that bands his irises, nor the flecks of blue that glisten under the effects of a fairy’s glow, and it only makes the Veteran’s stare all the more intense.

“Huh.” The bunny huffs softly. “That’s pretty neat, ‘Rulie.” There's no anger, no accusation in his tone, and when Hyrule brings his gaze up to meet that of his mentor again, all he sees is fondness and intrigue. “Is this new? An item? Were you- no,” Legend’s ears prick forwards, his interest obvious as he leans forward. (Hyrule wonders if the vet realizes that he's smelling him.) “You speak like They do. This isn’t new.”

It’s not a question.

“I’m, uh, half fairy.”

Legend nods slowly. “And you didn’t think to tell anyone?” At the dimming of Hyrule’s glow the vet pulls away, eyes flashing with panic for a moment. “I don’t mean that as a bad thing, ‘Rule, just-” He cocks his head long ears flopping to one side sloppily. “It’s not something I’d think you’d want to hide. Seems pretty useful to me.”

And by useful, Hyrule knows Legend means cool.

“I told Four.” He nods to the Hylian standing over them. The smithy’s eyes flicker various colors, his lips pulling aside into a slight smile as he crouches to be closer to their height.

“Now I’m taller than both of you.” Four chuckles softly, crimson tinged gaze sweeping over the two of them.

“Don’t get smart.” Legend huffs. “This is a curse, not my true form, you’d be tiny too if you were cursed into an animal form. Probably smaller than me!”

There’s a knowing look in the smithy’s gaze, but he holds his silence, smile still present as he carefully looks over the both of them. “Well, if neither of you were harmed in that little exchange, we should get back to camp. Wars will be in a huff if we don’t back with you soon.”

Legend huffs his own huff, but doesn’t object, gathering up the glimmering item he had brought as a toll (Hyrule thinks it might be a precious stone of some sort) and slowly hopping after the Smithy as he turns back towards camp.

They’d have made it to camp rather quickly too, if the sky hadn’t chosen that moment to weep out it’s sorrow with the world and the evils within. Great sheets of rain, the likes of which they usually only expect from the Champion’s Hyrule, flood down over them, and Hyrule thanks all things Holy that Legend is there to break his fall as the water soaks his wings and sends him careening towards the earth. Four yelps in surprise, hands fumbling for his hood as he tried to fend off some of the wet (it does little good, they’ll be soaked in seconds in this downpour.

“In here!” Legend squeaks, the rabbit hero already darting into the nearest hollow he can see that isn’t clearly inhabited. It’s a tight squeeze, and Hyrule nearly knocks his head on the bark of the opening, but Legend gets the both of them under, and despite the mushrooms that seem to fill the space with a soft light, it’s a comfortable fit for the two of them. The ground beneath is laid with moss, purposefully it would seem, and Hyrule lets himself side down into it with an appreciative hum.

“What about Four?” He murmurs softly, looking out of the crevice through which they entered. It’s still pouring buckets, and unlike them, the smithy has no dry place to hide (heavens knows the camp will be soaked. He feels terrible for the others).

“What about me?”

Violet and gold turn upwards as twin gasps escape the two. Four, in all of his minish glory, waves back at them from where he’s perched on top of one of the mushrooms. “Minish portal.” He smiles cheerily (but Hyrule can Taste the nervousness rolling off of him).

“Wait, both of you get small?” Legend’s ears stand up straight, brushing the roof of their shelter. “Smaller?” He corrects himself.

Four rolls his eyes. “It was get soaked or get small. I don’t fancy catching a cold, so I chose small.” He wrinkles his nose (it will never stop being cute), hopping down from the mushroom and free falling into the dampened fur of his rabbit-companion. “Now shut up and let me warm up, you’re bigger than I am and since you left me out there to soak I think I can get away with using you to warm up.”

Hyrule’s laughter rings soft and sweet through the hollow, Legend’s vaguely offended expression only adding fuel to the fire as he flits closer. “The vet doesn’t really mind cuddles, do you Ledge? Besides,” He lets his wings fall still, embracing the warmth of Legend’s soft fur as he lands in it lightly. “We just saved his ass.”

Legend turns his head to stare at the two of them, but even in rabbit form his lips twitch with amusement as he shoves him nose into Four’s personal space, making the minish-hero tumble down into the moss with a faint yelp. “You’re soaking.”

The smith grins back, plunging right back into the warm pink fur. “That wasn’t a refusal.”

“One time.” Legend huffs, ears flicking briefly. “One time only, smithy. Enjoy it while you can.”

“Trust me,” Four sighs, plonking down against the vet and leaning into the plush fur around him. “I will.”

It takes mere seconds before Four has drifted off, and Hyrule is reminded that the smith was keeping watch for most of the night before they had gone out looking for Legend. Guilt, sickly-sweet, yet bitter, taints his tongue as Legend stares down at the tiny form curled against him. Hyrule sighs. “I guess he was more tired than I thought.”

Legend only huffs, ears flicking back and nose shivering as he noses the smithy’s sleeping from. Four’s dropped off like a stone, completely dead to the world as Legend curls around him (not dissimilar to how Sky had curled around him earlier that night), easing the gentle shivers of the smith, who noses deeper into Legend’s pelt. Tiny paws coming up to catch hold of pink fur as Four curls up, feather-like tail brushing against the top of his tiny nose, moved only by tiny snores that make Legend’s ears twitch and Hyrule giggle softly.

“The rains still pouring down.” Legend hums, gruff as he can be in his current state, but Hyrule knows it’s all an act. “You might as well get some sleep too, ‘Rulie.”.

And while any other time Hyrule may have argued, Legend lifts his head to offer the space next to Four, and if Legend is offering cuddles, especially with his silky soft fur as a barrier against the cold, Hyrule knows he can’t resist it.

Four’s paw catches hold of him the instant he settles next to the smithy, and before he knows it the two of them are both bundled up in each other while Legend curls himself around them, breath soft and soothing as his heart pit-patters away inside of him.

That’s how they wake the next morning.

Wolfie’s nose shoved against the crack in the bark is what pulls them back from the land of dreams, and the soft snuffling bark followed by Time’s voice is what gets them up on their feet. It’s an awkward thing, emerging into the light again to find five heroes and a wolf staring down at them in a mixture of confusion and concern, but nobody seems to be able to bring themselves to scold when Four sneezes.

“We got caught in the storm.” Legend huffs when he sees the soft expression on Time’s face.

Wolfie huffs, and, much to the surprise of the currently shrunken heroes, they can hear the laugh in it. “Of course you did.”

Hyrule’s mouth drops open, all six eyes bugging out in shock as he turns to Four. The fairy’s whisper is high and shocked, but too sharp a noise for Hylian ears, although Legend, Wolfie and Four can all hear him quite clearly. “Wolfie is Twilight!”

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #fluffics #lu legend #lu twilight #lu hyrule #lu sky #lu four #lu warriors #fairy hyrule #bunny legend #minish four #minish four has friends!#fairies can taste emotions hc #Fairy Hyrule has six eyes #shut up and let me have eldritch hyrule!#wolfie linked universe #wolfie

205 notes · View notes

djarinsbeskar · 4 years ago

Text

PREQUEL ARC: PART 2 - THE HOUK

A/N: Part 2 is here! First and foremost, can I just say thank you so much for the reception Part 1 received and to those who (gasps!) actually want me to tag them for updates??? I don’t know how to react??? I’m so touched??????? It’s so motivating and has reminded me why I love sharing my scribbles!

There’s a greater focus on world/character building in this chapter so if it feels a bit rambling or description heavy, I do apologise! Like I said, I’m trying to build some context to the reader-insert before we get to the smut, and I hope that I’ve kept her general enough that she doesn’t cross the line too much into OC territory and becomes unrelatable. As always, constructive criticism is welcome! My style of writing leaves much to be desired so I would love to know if something doesn’t make sense so I can improve and fix it. But enough of that, on with the show!

Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)

Warnings: Language and slight injury detail.

Plot: You encounter Mando suffering one misfortune after another.

AO3 | Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist

8 ABY, Mynock, Dandoran.

The second time you met him, he had dislocated his shoulder after a nasty clash with a Houk.

Your dealing with the Mandalorian on Klatooine had moved to the back of your mind and you rarely, if ever, thought about it. It was merely another encounter with a rough character that needed some medical attention. You wouldn’t have been able to hazard a guess at how many similar characters you saw in a week while you worked at the clinic. Even more so when you’d left Klatooine after becoming disillusioned that the New Republic were actually trying to make a difference.

You had heard stories from the Core and Mid Rim planets. Stories of the investment and progress being made to rebuild after the tyranny of the Empire, of the billions of credits being poured into the development of new ship building centers on Corellia and large, extravagant residencies for government members on Coruscant. Things, you were sure, that were not actually urgent necessities as they were desires. Especially given that the funds you received from that same government to sustain the clinic thinned before drying up completely a few months after your encounter with the Mandalorian.

…Hemorrhaging more credits than is justified for the benefits we’re seeing in return.

The busybody politician with a colorful title and even more colorful robes waxed poetically, hiding the sentiment of disinterest in ways only a politician could. Half-heartedly trying to distract you by his explanations with empty praise and gratitude for your service during the Rebellion and your humanitarian work now, a true embodiment of what the New Republic stands for. He crowed like the colorful bird he looked like, dressed as he was with fine feathers lining the lapels of his robes.

You bristle at the memory of the hologram’s eyes flickering to look at anything besides you, running down the time you had spent weeks trying to get.

That was when the memory of the Mandalorian surfaced, surprisingly. How the day after you treated him you arrived at the medical center and saw a familiar pouch of credits sitting innocently behind the check-in desk. When you enquired with the receptionist, she told you it was sitting there once she opened up earlier that morning. The only note left being on one of the datapads behind the desk, the scrawling font reading; to help with your work. You had let out a chuckle to yourself as you checked your schedule, wondering if the brutish male you had treated last night really was as cold as he portrayed himself to be.

The memory had incited a righteous anger that a bounty hunter was more willing to support a voluntary clinic than the government that set it up in the first place was.

I thought the Empire were the ones who put a credit limit on what a life is worth. You had hissed in return, interrupting what you were sure was a well-rehearsed and well used speech, before hanging up. You pressed the heel of your hands into your eyes, taking a shuddering breath as you tried not to be nihilistic in thinking that you had spent nearly half your life thinking you could make a difference, when, you were just serving the Empire in different clothing.

It wasn’t a fair comparison; you knew the New Republic was neither as cruel nor as tyrannical and oppressive as it’s predecessor, but you had been made so dreadfully aware that in places like the Outer Rim, people would always be overlooked by those in power because they simply didn’t offer enough to be worth looking at.

The realization was a raw wound to your soul. You had lost brothers and friends to the fight for liberation, but it didn’t seem as though the grass was much greener on the other side. Maybe elsewhere in the galaxy it was, but where you were needed most, the grass was dehydrated and dying under the relentless sun.

With the clinic penniless, your meagre pension from the Rebellion was not nearly enough to keep it functioning. Add to that the reluctance of the other medics to run the clinic alongside you out of their own pocket and the intergalactic beacon for medical aid that alerted anyone in the parsec of where to go being disengaged, traffic stopped. The native Klatooinians preferred their own healers and very rarely, if ever, sought out medics from the New Republic.

For the first time in your life, your path wasn’t clear. If you even had a path anymore.

That was how you found yourself on Dandoran, flying off a week after the last of the medics left Derelkann to the first planet that was habitable to humans. But by the Maker, it was even rougher than Klatooine. The temperate climate and lush greenery were more comfortable for you, but the city you found yourself in, Mynock, was to say the least, undesirable. Having once been Hutt Space, there were still several illegal operations active that kept the city going and you learned early on what areas to avoid and to always carry a blaster with you. But at least where there was activity, there was work for you.

***

You met Biran Sonter the very day you arrived, asking directions to the nearest medical facility, hoping they could use another medic. He was an elderly Mirialan male with a wealth of history behind him, his facial tattoos creased with deep wrinkles and a kindly smile that reminded you of your grandfather.

You were flabbergasted to learn that during the time of the Galactic Republic, he acted as the royal physician to the palace on Naboo.

As you choked on the tea he had kindly made for you at that revelation, you couldn’t ask him quickly enough how he ended up here? On an Outer Rim backwater skughole of a planet and his tale had been sobering. When the Republic first fell, anyone who did not immediately surrender to the rising Empire was terminated. Biran had, at the time, only heard word of the death of the beloved former Queen Amidala and blamed the Empire vehemently. Escaping on one of the last shuttles from the Mid Rim planet before legions of clones descended, he arrived on Dandoran where no one, not even the Hutts cared enough to notice him. All they knew, was that he was an excellent doctor who charged little for his services and kept to himself. That was good enough for them. While he treated a vast number of criminals ranging from thieves to bounty hunters, he was not wholly merciful. He somehow managed to avoid or talk his way out of treating anyone in the organized crime syndicates or known traffickers and killers. It may have gone against a physician’s code to do ones best to save every life, but he like many, made their own code in the Outer Rim.

You fell into a fast and easy friendship with the Mirialan after that, your similar histories of working in the medical field despite being decades apart giving you plenty to talk about. The practice Biran ran in Mynock was always busy and he was only too grateful when you offered to take the weight off his old shoulders and gradually, his clients began to expect to see you most of the day and Biran for a few hours in the early morning. You were never short on work between cantina brawls, accidents and the downright attacks that took place in Mynock and the next eighteen standard months seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, Klatooine a distant memory, as was the Mandalorian you met there.

The night you saw him again, was no different to any other you spent enjoying a quiet drink before heading back to turn in for the night.

You had been in the process of leaving the cantina, recognizing that the later it grew, the rowdier and aggressive the clientele became. You could handle yourself as well as anyone who made their home in Hutt Space, but you knew better than to be blatantly reckless when you were on your own. It wasn’t like you had the squadron you stayed with throughout the Rebellion for backup as you once did, and your closest ally would probably break in half if you pushed him too hard. So no, you were not staying late with Mynocks newest resident of a Houk warlord and the company he seemed to attract.

The Houk in question was a cruel and belligerent brute, a former local warlord by the name of Gappo Teff. His reputation for inflicting punishment disproportionate to any slight committed against him or the Empire was one of the many echoes of the former imperial rule that was still being felt in the galaxy nearly three years after its collapse.

The stories of the chokehold he held over Sullust would make even a hardened soldier’s stomach churn. How he managed to escape the liberation of the planet without being dragged to the noxious surface of Sullust to suffer for the pain he had caused so many, was a mystery. But there he was, sitting like a king in the cantina you found yourself in, bellowing laughter ricocheting obnoxiously throughout the space, not a care in the world that he was a wanted felon.

It might have been to do with the fact that he was at least seven and a half foot tall, with a mass that could easily fit three of you side by side across him and still not be seen. It might have been to do with the cold, milky blue of his small eyes, sunk into a skull so large it could probably shatter ribs and rupture organs if one were to be headbutted with it. The last thing anyone wanted was those eyes focusing on them. It could have been the heavy artillery modified blaster he kept laying on his lap; the weapon more of a cannon for those of a more regular stature. Whatever the reason, very few bounty hunters and even fewer New Republic guards came to collect him. He was probably one of the most easily found quarries on all Guild registers and New Republic wanted lists and yet, he languished in Mynock as if the Empire had never fallen and his reign was still assured.

Making your way to the entrance, you came up short as someone walked in, your nose coming abruptly close to a reddish-brown durasteel chest-plate. Taking a step back, your eyes did a double take at the familiar unpainted beskar helmet. Subconsciously, you had stepped to the side, the Mandalorian continuing to walk without a word as if you hadn’t nearly walked into him. Mandalorians were a rare sight these days, so you could be forgiven for staring. Though, you were most likely staring for entirely different reasons compared to everyone else in the cantina.

The armor was the same, if not a bit more worn, as was the dark boiled woolen cape and pulse rifle strapped to his back. But it was the gait; how could someone walk both gracefully and arrogantly, almost cocky in his self-assurance that he was in control wherever he went. It explained why he was so determined not to let his injury be known by his walk the last time you saw him. Because you had seen him before, there was no doubt in your mind that this was the same irritable reek of a Mandalorian you met in Derelkann years ago.

He stood in the middle of the cantina, assessing the place as his helmet scanned the area. If you didn’t know any better, you say he was…

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me.” You muttered to yourself when the helmet stopped on Teff. When you said bounty hunters didn’t bother to come after him, you should have been more specific. Smart bounty hunters didn’t bother hunting Gappo Teff, which explained why the one you knew of was right there looking for him.

A choice lay before you. Leave now and lock your doors until morning… or wait. For what, you couldn’t be sure. But if the Mandalorian wasn’t killed tonight by Teff, he was going to wish he was with the injuries he would probably sustain.

You let your head fall back on your shoulders as you exhaled. Why were you so soft for lost causes and wayward souls?

The Houks bodyguards left much to be desired, crumbling to the ground before they had even drawn their blasters, smoke rising from the blaster wounds inflicted effortlessly by Din.

The bodyguards weren’t what worried Din. Their boss hardly needed protecting, and he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

The groan and screech of the metal table being shoved away by Teff as he stood to his full height made Din grit his teeth, arms open as he boomed, “Ah Mando, I was wondering when you’d try your luck at me. Your reputation is becoming rather infamous throughout the parsec.”

A guttural, wet laugh left the purple skinned quarry as Din remained silent and kept his blaster aimed. Damn, but the piece of bantha crap was big. He quickly scanned his peripheral, but it seemed the residents of Mynock had more self-interest than to trade blaster fire over one warlord, the barkeep casually making his was into the backroom of the bar to keep out of harms way.

“Why don’t you hang up that Guild work and let me make you a better offer.” Teff boomed, taking a swing of his drink, streams of the yellow fluid running down the sides of him mouth as those frosty eyes stayed trained on the bounty hunter.

Din rolled his eyes behind his helmet; negotiations by the quarry were his least favorite reaction to being caught but he knew better than to think he had captured the colossal male yet. Until Teff was either dead or frozen in carbonite, he was a danger. Luckily, the orders were to bring him in dead or alive. Seems the New Republic were fed up with him still breathing. He couldn’t say he blamed them.

“No?” the Houk pushed when Din didn’t respond, “Too bad, you’d have made an excellent addition to my collection.” And with more speed than Din had anticipated from the large male, he charged.

You had the good sense to leave the cantina as soon as the first blaster shot was fired, pulling the hood of your dusty grey jacket over your head while you made your way back to the practice to gather a few things. Things that would be completely obsolete if he died but you wouldn’t think that far. You were a realist, not a pessimist. The Houk might have had the advantage of height and sheer strength, but the Mandalorian was quicker, possibly smarter, and decked with enough firepower to make a starfighter pilot drool.

So, you put the odds about sixty forty in favor of the Mandalorian. Not that you would ever tell him that.

Teff roared in anger as Din rolled out of the way again, shooting his grappling hook to latch onto the Houks shoulder and yanked hard enough to throw the male off balance. Despite his large size however, Teff was able to slide his foot back to catch himself, putting him in direct line with Din.

He was on his feet in no time as the Houk charged at him, lowering his head so that on contact, Din’s left shoulder was thrown back into the wall of the cantina. His breath left him as the impact winded him, a dull but growing pain throbbing from his shoulder before Teff’s vile breath permeated even his helmet and a large hand wrapped around Din’s throat. He could feel his feet leave the floor and the weight of his body pulling downward made the pressure on his windpipe all the heavier.

“Oh well, at least you tried.” Teff gloated, his head leaning closer as if to peer into the visor and that distraction was all Din needed to lift his hand and engage his flamethrower, engulfing the Houk in flames. Din gasped in a breath when he was dropped, the squeals of pain coming from Teff disconcerting as he staggered around the cantina, desperately looking for something to extinguish the inferno his clothing and more vulnerable tissue had become.

Din waited a few more measured breaths before lifting the blaster and shooting the quarry in the vulnerable side of the neck, satisfied with the resounding bang the body made as it fell to the ground, flames still burning bright until he picked up the half-drunk tankard on Teffs table to douse the fire lest he be completely unrecognizable upon delivery.

Din looked around, the cantina was empty; the silence suddenly deafening as he looked back down at the body.

Now, how to get him back to the Razor Crest.

Din sighed.

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

You held up your hands unsurprised when the Mandalorian spun on the ramp of his ship, blaster raised and aimed right at you. He tilted his head slightly, taking you in and you tried not to fidget under the gaze you could feel raking over you despite not being able to see his eyes. What you could see though, was how limp his left arm was hanging to his side.

“The demon medic from Klatooine.” He muttered, finally placing your face and lowering his blaster slowly while you lowered your arms.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You snorted before nodding to his arm, “And you’ll probably be calling me a lot worse when I tell you that that arm needs tending to.”

He shifted slightly, turning his body so you wouldn’t be able to see. You just crossed your arms across your chest and stared at him pointedly. He held your gaze and was still as a statue. You could play the silence game too if that was how he wanted to do this. It was only a matter of time before one of you broke and you weren’t the one with a dislocated shoulder, so you’d say that the odds were in your favor.

It seemed like time dragged on before, without saying anything, the Mandalorian sighed and turned towards the ship.

You bit down on a smile, but you could still feel it creeping upon your lips as you congratulated yourself on winning. Two nil, you tallied in your head, not bad girl.

The ship… well the ship was a fossil and that was being generous. But it was clean and obviously well taken of, if the tidy hull was anything to go by.

Apart from the charred corpse lying in the middle of course, but those were just details. Easily overlooked. The smell however… that was a different story, but you held back any comments. You still couldn’t fathom how he’d managed to drag a fully grown Houk through the town one-handed, but then you knew that the strength and discipline of the Mandalorians was unrivalled. He could have done it through sheer determination and honestly, you were lucky to have found him at all. But people in Mynock liked to talk, so following the rumors' had let you there relatively easy.

A sigh broke your train of thought, “Let’s get this over with.”

The warrior seemed resigned to his fate as he stepped over the corpse and you followed suit, mind instantly running through the correct procedure and treatment.

“We have to get the bone in the upper arm into the correct position before it slips back into joint, otherwise the force will just break your arm.” You explained as you moved to stand in front of the large warrior when he sat back on one of the many crates pushed against the wall of the ship. You could barely hear the short exhales coming from the modulator and you could only guess that he was holding back speaking, whether in pain or frustration that you had strong-armed him into accepting treatment again.

“But hey, look on the bright side.”

His visor tilted slightly to look at you.

“No droids needed.” You shrugged a shoulder and sent him a grin when he said nothing. When he looked away, you focused your attention back on the problem shoulder; it wasn’t immediately clear that it had been dislocated, the pauldron he wore hiding the jutting ball of the joint that was no doubt pressed uncomfortably against his flesh. What you could see was that his left side was hanging just a bit lower than his right, and the inability to move the arm was a dead giveaway.

“Are you just going to stare at it or actually do what you said you would when you barged onto my ship?” The rasp was closer to you as he turned his head, the rumble of his voice decidedly deeper than you remembered last time. Or perhaps it always had been, and you just hadn’t been paying enough attention, more focused on the very real threat of having a dead body on your hands as the poison spread. You rolled your eyes; or it was all the short and biting commands he only seemed to know how to give as opposed to actually speaking that made you forget the voice. The man could be attractive, if he wasn’t so frustrating.

“I can’t see it properly.” You replied, agitated with him again. He got under your skin too easily, and ruined your cool demeanor.

“You dealt with the problem just fine before.” He snapped back, pain making him cranky.

“You didn’t have a bone out of place last time!” You stopped yourself, sucking in a breath before releasing it to prevent yourself from snapping again.

“At least,” you bartered, “let me remove the pauldron. I can feel around the duraweave to get an idea. I won’t see any more of you than I did last time.”

He didn’t say anything again for a time and honestly, he was the slowest person you’d ever met at receiving emergency medical care. Half the men you treated during the Rebellion would yell until you’d taken care of the worst of their injuries before they even considered if it was what they wanted or not.

“Fine.” Was all he responded, making no move to remove the offending piece so you took that as your cue to feel around the curved metal cautiously, feeling where it attached to his duraweave and releasing it into your hands before placing it down on a separate crate.

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” A warning growl echoed in the hull, turning you back to your task with a hum.

It seemed the joint had popped forward, no doubt from caving in as Teff collided with Mando’s shoulder. You leaned forward, your fingers feeling around the area as gently as you could while his breathing came out a little shorter. You sent him an apologetic smile.

“I’m going to have to ask you to stay still, okay? Usually I’d have someone to hold—”

“I can keep myself still, just do it.” He snapped finally, turning to look at you before he looked away again. You said nothing more as you took his gloved hand in yours, turning the forearm over and feeling the hand clench in yours when he hissed.

“Shh, nearly there.” You soothed, moving your hand under his elbow to lift it so it was aligned with Mando’s shoulder. You stood, keeping the arm in place and twisting yourself to stand facing his side.

You were definitely out to get him. There was no other explanation for why he only seemed to be seriously injured in your presence. Din tried to tell himself he was being over-dramatic and irrational, that you hadn’t even been on the same planet when he was injured the first time, but then you opened your mouth and he felt justified in his petulant thoughts.

“On three.” He heard you warn and all he could offer was a single nod; the sooner he got this over with the better.

“One…” You jerked the arm forward and slipped the joint back into place quickly with a sickening crack and searing pain took his breath away before it began to ebb immediately.

“DANK…. FERRICK!” Din yelled as his good arm reached across to grip his left, bending forward as he breathed through the flash of pain. You moved out of his way, waiting for him to look back up at you through the helmet, deep pants making his chest heave. You cocked your head to the side when his eyes found yours, a clear question there.

He groaned as he sat back, leaning his head against the hull, “It… doesn’t hurt as much anymore.” He admitted, thinking that the smile you gave him was somewhat worth the knock to his ego at having to admit such a thing in the first place. And like last time, before he could even worry about the concerning direction that thought had led to, you were fluttering about opening crates and bins as if you owned the place.

“What the hell—” he made to stand indignantly.

“Do you have any spare cloth?” You interrupted, “Your arm needs to be bound for a few days. If you have bacta it might reduce the healing time a bit but honestly, I don’t think dislocations can be rushed despite recent studies. Rushing back to heavily lifting or activity for at least six weeks is a sure way to hurt yourself again.”

You were rambling now as you set a pile of disused yet clean cloth you found on your lap, sitting across from him as he just blinked at this enigma of a woman. Giving him orders in his own ship, were you daft?

Your eyes sharpened and shot to his and he was suddenly glad you couldn’t see behind his mask. His eyes had widened guiltily at the thought that you had read his mind.

“You will do what you’re told, understand Mando?” You warned as your fingers tied a loose sling from strips of cloth you’d pulled apart without even having to look at it, deft fingers looping the material and strengthening it with several more layers woven in for good measure.

“If you insist on getting injured so often, you live with the consequences. And the consequences are doing what you’re fucking told and being happy about it, got it? Sulk if you want, so long as you keep the arm bound and don’t take on any jobs for at least two months.”

He opened his mouth a few times at the audacity, did she have a death wish? He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had spoken to him as if he were no more than a child and it made his blood boil. But just as quickly as the anger arose, it simmered as she muttered while watching her fingers tie off the sling,

“You don’t actually seem like a bad guy, and the galaxy can’t afford to lose anymore… not bad guys.” She seemed unsure of giving out even this level of praise but then again, she only had their first encounter to go by.

He grunted; not sure how to respond. And when Din was uncomfortable, he resorted to silence.

You got to your feet once the sling was suitably strong enough to support the weight of his arm without unravelling or breaking and you indicated to him, “May I?”

He jerked his head up in affirmation and you maneuvered the sling to sit correctly under his elbow and forearm, coaxing him to lift it slightly with a tap before you looped the tied end over his helmet, adjusting the length slightly to fit against him.

“You left Klatooine.” the statement rose from the warrior, his tone quieter than you’d heard him all day. Was he... trying to make conversation? Din told himself that it was merely out of curiosity from seeing you by chance on two totally different planets.

Blinking in surprise, you sat back on the crate in front of him, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back on one of your hands, “New Republic stopped funding the clinic and I realized that they’re all the same when it comes to the Outer Rim.”

He snorted in agreement, honestly, he wasn’t surprised to hear the New Republic had cut their losses on charity. It wasn’t in their nature to funnel money away from the Core planets.

“But it’s not all bad,” you continued, “I work with a doctor here. He’s old now so he should be enjoying his retirement. I’m kept busy and…”

He watched you while he waited for you to finish, surely there was more? But when you just shrugged and sent him a tight smile, he felt an uncomfortable niggle at the back of his neck, a familiarity that made him almost want to smile back even if you couldn’t see it. Almost. But not quite. He was unnerved at the… empathy he had for your situation. He too just… kept busy. It wasn’t towards any end beyond supporting the covert and the foundlings there. But for himself, he just kept working towards some translucent, non-existent goal, one job ended, and another began.

Something in your eyes told him you were doing the exact same thing. It unnerved him to think about.

“Echoy’la…” the word left him without knowing and you blinked,

“Hm?”

He shook his head and stood, grunting a bit at the ache in his shoulder when it jostled a bit, “Nothing. It seems I owe you my thanks again, demon medic.”

“I do have a name you know.” You snorted, letting the previous topic go as it seemed to just make him more awkward and grumpy than he already was. You packed away the medikit and replaced the unused cloth back where you found it.

“Somehow I don’t think it’ll be as fitting.”

“Whatever, sunshine.” You looked over your shoulder at him, the sling looking so out of place as he hooked a thumb in the utility belt he wore. It was amazing that he could still look as intimidating as he did. You gathered your things and started down the ramp leisurely. He followed you silently until he was standing at the entrance to the ship.

“Demon or not… thank you.” He called out as your feet hit the dusty ground of Mynock once again. You looked back over your shoulder and gave a single wave, calling something back to him that did make him smile behind his helmet this time.

As you disappeared into the streets of Mynock, he tested the name you had thrown back to him, rolling the syllables, and testing the vowels as he repeated it to himself.

Pity, he thought. He hated being wrong about anything, but somehow, your name was a much better fit than demon medic.

Not that he would ever admit that to you, of course.

Taglist:

@geannad @ayamenimthiriel @sarahjkl82-blog

#the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x you #mando x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #mando #din djarin #din djarin imagine #mando imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fic

660 notes · View notes

lyraeeee · 4 years ago

Text

to protect || xiao

part one - weak

series masterlist

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

pairing : xiao & gender neutral!reader themes : mostly fluff, i guess? word count : 1.3k

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Xiao remembers the day he first saw you.

It was clear from your attire that you weren’t from Liyue at all.

Did you hail from Mondstadt? Sumeru? Inazuma?

He did not know, nor did he care enough to find out.

All he was aware of was the screams that came from your mouth as a group of hilichurls attacked you for disrupting their camp.

...You’re foolish.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He was beautiful. This man that you held no familiarity with whatsoever... he looked like a being out of this world. The blood dripping down your bare arm was forgotten; you didn't feel the pain as all your attention was directed to the handsome young man meters away from you. Your throat hurt as you continued to pant. The tree that you were currently leaning on dug itself further into your back, only causing more blood to seep out into your clothes. None of that mattered however. Of course, why would any of it matter in the first place? Not when you’re sitting awkwardly in front of the most beautiful person you've ever laid your eyes on. You’re pretty sure that you just came face to face with a literal god. A pair of striking amber eyes bore into your own. He saved you. Averting your eyes, you suddenly found the dissipating bodies of the already dead hilichurls much more interesting. Even their blood that stained your rust-covered weapon along with the stranger’s beautiful jade spear, it began to slowly fade away. A faint huff can be heard from the man, “What did you think you were doing?” His voice held authority; he wasn’t asking you for an answer, no, he was demanding to hear one from you. It’s only deserving that you give him what he wanted, really, seeing as if it weren’t for him you would’ve been dead by now. “I…” raising one of your arms to shield your eyes, you choked out, “I just needed ten arrowheads for a commission...” You hear him scoff; it wasn’t really a surprise considering how trivial your explanation seemed in exchange for such chaos along with a few bruises and cuts here and there. Despite the fact that you had trouble breathing, you let out a laugh at his response. Your chuckling was cut short however when sudden coughs erupted from your throat. The coughing fit made you groan in pain as you leaned further into the tree. All of your energy was spent finishing the previous commissions you took as well as from the intense fighting with the group of hilichurls earlier. Given your situation, you realize that sooner or later the fatigue will get to your already weak body; it won’t be long before you finally lose consciousness. Thinking back to it, maybe you shouldn’t have declined that certain traveler’s offer to come along with you in your journey. Truthfully speaking, it was even a miracle that your cries were carried by the wind, delivered to this handsome individual you’re fortunate enough to call your savior. You moved your arm away from your face when you felt a looming presence in front of you. A gloved hand obscured your vision of your current surroundings. Glancing towards his eyes, you notice that he’s staring directly at you. “Get up. I’ll take you to somewhere safe.” You quickly shift your gaze to the side as you reach over to his hand. Surprisingly, he was really gentle with you, pulling you carefully towards him to help you up your feet. Once you find yourself upright, his grip lingers for a short while before he eventually lets go and turns to face the other direction. “Follow me.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He’s only a few steps away... yet it definitely feels like he’s trying his best not to stay too close with you. It’s almost like he’s avoiding you. You attempted to walk faster to keep in step with him, not bothering with the way you visibly limped. Yet it seems like the said stranger would also walk a couple steps further, maintaining the distance between the two of you. This is honestly getting ridiculous. You breathed in deeply and sighed. Glancing at the back of the man’s head, it was only then did you notice the multiple black dots that danced around the corners of your vision. Slowly, everything around you began to be a bit more blurry than what you last remember. You struggled to keep up with your savior. In a haste, you grabbed the sleeve on his left arm before he could once again try to leave you behind. “What are you-” both of his eyes glared at you before they widened after looking into your own.

“Please,” you stumbled on one of your feet before trying to regain balance, “protect me while I rest for a while…”

His arms wrapped themselves around you when your legs finally decided to give out. You had trouble with trying to keep your eyes open; you could only let the darkness take you into the land of dreams while the last thing you can recall is him positioning you so he could carry you on his back, the wind around you gentle and did its job to make you feel like you were floating.

He finally found you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Yes, just climb the stairs until you reach the highest floor. Either place it on the floor or at the table, any is fine really.”

The manager of the inn you were staying at, Verr Goldet, you believe her name is, she was really kind and understanding of your current predicament.

You weren’t sure if it’s because she was in a good mood or perhaps something else happened that you entirely weren’t aware of, but she has been very accommodating considering how you only have literal scraps and a few mora left, not enough to actually pay her for taking care of you.

It was certainly generous of her as well to request one of the healers staying at the inn to do a check up on you after you passed out and awoke from your sleep.

Clearly, your luck has been good to you for a suspiciously long amount of time now.

The only problem is that you haven't had a glimpse of your unnamed savior for the past two days that you’ve been awake.

Since you finally have the energy to move around and do the stuff how you normally would, you asked Verr if there was anything that you could do to help around the inn as payment for how you’ve practically stayed there for free for five days.

Funnily enough, she didn’t ask you to do anything for her, but instead suggested that you offer a bowl of Almond tofu to one of the adepti that was apparently residing around the inn.

“Do you think they will appear to me after I offer this to them?” you inquired the woman while gesturing to the bowl that settled in between your hands.

A laugh came, “Well I can’t guarantee you myself that they’ll appear to you right away,” she sent you a knowing look, “I guess you’ll just have to find it out for yourself, no?”

You chuckled and shook your head.

Trudging up the stairs, you failed to notice a pair of golden eyes that watched your every move in the darkness.

Once you reached the highest floor, you headed towards a small table right beside a rock model and placed the bowl of tofu down.

You went ahead to get closer to the railings of the balcony, the view of the beautiful green lands of Dihua Marsh greeting you.

The gentle wind passing by brushed your face, making you smile, “Whoever you are out there...”

Your eyes glanced down to your hand, the same one that held your savior’s, “...I wish to see you again.”

Suddenly sensing another presence beside you, you forgot how to breathe as you saw none other than the man who saved you from before, taking his time admiring the view from the balcony.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hello once again traveler! You finally found Alatus Nemeseos! Unfortunately, you will still have to wait for a while to finally see how the main story will work out. The story is kinda slow, don't you agree? Ah! No need to worry! I'm sure things will work out soon... well, hopefully as least. The story is already written in the stars! Still, I'm excited to see how things turns out myself.

#alatus nemeseos #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #xiao #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #gender neutral #angst #fluff #lehra.writes

353 notes · View notes

samstree · 3 years ago

Text

Hug a Witcher Day (3/4)

In which Jaskier goes missing in the spring. Can Geralt finally realize his feelings for the bard in the middle of a crisis?

(hurt/comfort, soft geraskier, 3k, rated T, cw: mentions of a canon-era plague, sick children, and a citywide lockdown.)

part 1, part 2, read on AO3

The third year since Jaskier invented Hug a Witcher Day, Geralt all but forgets about it completely.

He steps into the Two Weatherfish, where they agreed to meet, and realizes that the bard isn’t here. Or in the entire city of Ard Carraigh. No one has seen any trace of the famous bard who won’t quit singing praises for witchers.

Geralt pushes down the slight panic in his chest as he steps out of the last tavern in the city, and decides to just head for Oxenfurt.

It’s not like Jaskier has been the most reliable companion in the past, often distracted by dalliances or even anything shiny and new. One time he wandered off to watch a local celebration and Geralt found him hours later next to a lake, with thousands of lanterns floating above the water, illuminating the night sky like burning stars peppered on a dark canvas.

The soft, orange light spilled over Jaskier’s features, his eyes gleaming like the stars too.

Geralt snorts despite himself. There’s no doubt the bard is just delayed by someone who caught his eye and decided that a promise to a witcher isn’t all that important—the same witcher who he keeps claiming to be his best friend.

Geralt isn’t sure how to feel about that, or how to react when he finally sees Jaskier. Perhaps he will cease to talk about hunts for a while, leave the bard hanging, just so he can get a taste of the same frustration.

The pettiness remains in Geralt’s mind up until he steps into the academy and rampant fear licks up his chest.

Essi is the one who meets him at the gates, worry deep between her brows and rambling about how Jaskier never made it to the yule ball like he should. In her hands are two letters, clearly Jaskier’s handiwork judging from the neat curves and flourish, talking about his excitement to see his ‘Little Eye’ perform again, and how unfortunately his travel would be delayed due to an unexpected ailment.

Don’t you fret, poppet, for I am sure to beat this sickness within days. The promise of listening to your new ballad is already doing wonders for my health! It is a shame that my stay in Vizima is soured thus. The city, so beautifully rich in culture…

“Vizima,” Essi says frantically. “A plague broke out in the city last winter. Smallpox.”

A buzz begins to ring by Geralt’s ear, muffling out Essi’s voice and leaving only the thundering of his own heartbeat.

“They told me King Foltest sealed the gate to stop the spread, and…and no one has heard from anyone inside since then. Geralt, please, you are a witcher. Aren’t you immune to human sickness? That’s what Jaskier told me, isn’t that right?”

“I…yes.” The lump in Geralt’s throat stops any other words from getting out. His blood runs cold in the warm breeze of Oxenfurt’s spring.

“Please, Geralt, you must find him. I need to know. The university won’t allow me to go, but I…I must know. No matter what happened to him.”

The implication hangs in the air.

Tears well up in blues eyes too similar to Jaskier’s. Essi would be my sister in another life, Jaskier once commented adoringly and it’s only standing right here that Geralt can truly see the identical fierceness in her eyes.

As if Geralt needs her to ask. As if he isn’t willing to charge into the land of the dead if it means Jaskier gets out of it unscathed.

“Of course, Essi,” he promises solemnly. Her clutch on his forearm is so tight that any other man would be bruised by the force. “I promise.”

“Keep him safe, if it’s not too late.”

In his near-century long life, Geralt has rarely felt cold, unrelenting fear as he does when Essi breaks into sobs.

The sickness in Vizima casts a gloomy cloud over the sky, choking Geralt’s breaths. The streets are eerily empty. Only a few people will pass through in a frenzy every now and then.

Geralt’s legs take him right through the main streets, to the far corner of the city, where countless makeshift tents are set up and stretching towards the edge of the woods. If anyone has indeed fallen to the disease, that’s the most likely place they will be sent to. If anyone passes, that’s also where they keep the records so friends and families can look for their names.

Bile rises in his throat at the idea of looking through stacks of books for Jaskier’s name.

Geralt walks between hundreds of beds of one tent after another. Some healers throw him an odd look but carry on with their work, the flash of their white scrubs weaving through the busy establishment.

Against all odds, a pang of relief hits Geralt when he notices how the patients are well-treated by healers who seem to know what they are doing. The fever is brought down with a soaked cloth and a minty salve is applied for the irritation on the skin.

He searches and searches, until the sun is almost down, when—

A soft tune is carried over by the gentle breeze of spring.

And there Jaskier is, kneeling next to a little boy on a bed and humming a lullaby that Geralt only remembers vaguely. The bard is wearing the same white scrub like every carer at this camp, his brown hair slightly ruffled, and dark circles are hanging under his eyes. Geralt can see how tired he is by the hunch of his shoulders and the barely-there quiver in his singing, by his unkept stubble and the smile that’s dangerously close to falling.

And yet, he makes the most beautiful sight in the world.

Geralt stands there, drinking in the presence of his bard. The languid heartbeat of a witcher picks up, fluttering and almost bursting out of his chest.

Jaskier runs his fingers through the boy’s hair when the lullaby comes to an end. He tucks in the blanket and slowly pulls himself up, his knees creaking from the strain.

Blue eyes meet Geralt and Jaskier’s shock morphs into unbridled, blazing joy. Within the blink of an eye, the bard is standing right in front of Geralt.

“Geralt,” Jaskier breathes oh so carefully like he’s scared of waking from a dream. “What are you doing here? Wait, you don’t have any protec—oh right! Witcher biology. Can’t catch anything from us.” The bard lets out a sigh and his shoulders drop in relief. “How did you get through the gate? Punched another guard, didn’t—”

“You are okay,” Geralt says, dumbly.

“I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” Jaskier frowns. “Geralt, why did you come to Vizima in the middle of a plague? Not that I’m complaining about seeing you, but how exactly did you find me?”

Geralt doesn’t want to look away from Jaskier’s face—ideally for a long time to come, but he needs to rummage through his pack for the crumpled letters.

“You sent these to Essi last winter.”

Jaskier takes the letters, flattens the frayed edges before reading his own words.

“Yes, I did tell her…” Cold horror takes Jaskier aback. “Shit. She must think—Oh, Geralt, that wasn’t it! I only caught a stomach bug. It was never the pox! But then…they locked the city gate so fast and everything was in chaos for weeks. I couldn’t get more letters out. Oh, I wish I could take it back! I didn’t think—”

“You damn well didn’t.”

The words come out a lot harsher than Geralt intended, and Jaskier flinches back. Geralt pinches at the bridge of his nose, feeling contrite at his untimely outburst.

“No, Jask—I’m not…” he heaves out a sigh. “She didn’t even know if you were alive for months.”

Neither did I.

“I’m so sorry.” Jaskier is close to tears. “She must be worried sick.”

“She is.”

I was.

“And you too, Geralt. Please forgive me.” Jaskier’s chin wobbles, his arms hovering between the two of them as if he wants to put them around Geralt. “I want to ask you not to be cross with me again, but that seems to be all I do.”

“Jaskier…”

Geralt calls out when he finds not even an ounce of anger in his heart, not when he just spent weeks fearing the worst, not when Jaskier is standing right in front of him, safe and hale, his eyes flowing with guilt.

Jaskier might just be the death of him.

“Fuck. Just don’t pull this again.” Geralt softens his tone, knowing how unfair the request is when such things are out of Jaskier’s control, but the bard replies in earnest.

“I won’t. I swear.”

Exhaustion washes over the bard once again, making him look a lot older than he is. From the looks of it, Jaskier has been working in these camps for months and the last thing he needs is an unsupportive friend.

And Geralt doesn’t intend to become one.

“And you are dressed like this because?” Geralt nudges Jaskier in the shoulder to ease the apprehension on his face.

“Funny you should ask.” The bard presses his lips into a thin line before continuing. “I may have lied—nay, implied—that the seven degrees I acquired at Oxenfurt included…medicine. Hold on! Before you judge, I do know how to care for pox patients. I caught it as a child too and that’s why I’ve been fine this whole time.”

“Hmm. But you don’t have the—”

“The scars. No thanks to my grandmother’s secret healing salve that she insisted on keeping secret. It worked like a charm back then, almost like magic. We’ve been trying to replicate from whatever I remember. The mint is helping a little but something is still missing. Oh, well.” The bard rubs his fingers at the hem of his scrub. “Perhaps that explains all these crazy rumors about her heritage, with all her herbs and teas that always miraculously cured everybody. Honestly, I don’t even blame them.”

Geralt muses the possibility of Jaskier’s grandmother not being completely human and makes a silent decision to unpack it later.

“Then I guess your personal experience should come in handy if we are going to stay here for a while.”

“We? You are staying?”

“The exits are still closed.” Geralt tilts his head in nonchalance. “Might as well lend them a hand.”

And never take his eyes off of Jaskier again.

“That’s…wonderful, in a terrible, terrible way. Being trapped in the same place during a plague. Gods, that sounds like something out of the cheesiest romance novel.” Jaskier gasps as soon as the words are out. The smile on his face blossoms into a heated blush.

“Just promise me one thing, Jask.”

“What?” The cornflower blue eyes uncharacteristically avoid Geralt in a vain attempt to hide how flustered he is.

Don’t scare me like this again.

Don’t get taken from me.

Don’t leave me.

“Read less romance novels. Once this blows over,” Geralt answers, finally.

The fluttering in his chest returns, although this time for a completely different reason. The reason not being how adorable Jaskier looks embarrassed and rosy-cheeked.

No. Definitely not.

“Little Simon asleep?”

Geralt asks as he stokes the fire, watching Jaskier struggle out of the sweat-soaked scrub and throw it into the laundry pile. The bard sits down next to him on the log with a groan and leans into his arm.

“As flattered as I am that he can’t fall asleep without my songs, it does get a bit taxing to sing every night while kneeling on the floor.”

“The kid is sick. Can’t blame him for having bad taste in music.”

The jab would have landed better if he isn’t wrapping his arm around Jaskier so that he can rest his head on Geralt’s shoulder. The days are too long even with most of the patients released home, and it’s been taking a toll on Jaskier.

“Cruel to me when I’m down, huh?”

Under Geralt’s palm, it’s unmistakable that Jaskier’s arm isn’t as thick as it once was, and he really doesn’t want to think about how the sharp of Jaskier’s jaw is becoming more prominent by the day.

Geralt rubs gently up and down Jaskier’s bicep to draw a contented purr out of him.

“Hmm. Now you’re forgiven.” Jaskier nuzzles into the crook of Geralt’s neck so his muscles loosen under the ministration. “It’s so unfair that a shift never wears you out like the rest of us, my dear. So unfair that you don’t need as much food too. I’d kill for some witcher superpowers these days.”

“Trust me, you won’t like what they cost.”

The late summer heat, mixed with the smell of sweat in Jaskier’s hair, should make it extremely uncomfortable to be sitting so close, but Geralt only finds it calming to have Jaskier sagging against him.

Jaskier’s thinning shoulder is too worrisome. Geralt will have to leave him most of the dinner rations again. Excuses are so easy to find, once Geralt realized that Jaskier never questions what he’s told about witcher biology, trusting every word from Geralt’s mouth. It’s just a little lie, a little exaggeration.

The bard is rubbing off on him.

“Simon is among the last ones here,” Jaskier says tiredly into Geralt’s neck. “It will soon be over. They are saying everyone can go in a month or so.”

“We can go even now.”

The prospect of traveling again stirs up something hopeful under Geralt’s skin, prickling with excitement, but he knows more patience is required for now.

“Nah, I should at least see little Simon home. You were right that the boy has suffered enough. The fever is terrible. Even I still have nightmares about it after so many years. It’s excruciating, almost like death is trying to mock you. One moment a fire burns through your whole body, the next it swallows you whole into this…nothingness, cold and alone.”

Geralt tightens his hold and breathes in the melancholic scent emanating from Jaskier’s skin.

“It was my grandmother, again. She sang the same lullaby to me every night, kept me sane. It’s helping little Simon too.”

“It’s in elvish,” Geralt murmurs absently when Jaskier is close to drifting off. The bard’s leveled breathing fans over the collar of Geralt’s neck.

“…hmm?”

“Nothing. Maybe for later.”

Geralt’s fingers reach the side of Jaskier’s head and thread between the soft brown locks, keeping his drooping head in place for the nap. When he looks down to where Jaskier casually drapes over half of his body, the two of them almost melding into one, Geralt is suddenly hit with how much their relationship has changed over the past few years, and at the same time, how it feels completely natural like puzzles fitting into place.

This newfound intimacy should scare Geralt, but strangely, it doesn’t. Maybe it’s because the witcher has learned long ago to treasure his bard as a companion and friend, to protect him and care for him, even without ever admitting it out loud.

Maybe he should.

And what would he even say? Geralt is equally elated and stumped at the thought of the two of them growing into something more. If the fluttering in his chest is a result of loving Jaskier, the bard deserves to know, and he deserves the best words.

Geralt scoffs softly when he realizes that he’d kill for something completely opposite. Not the strength of a witcher, but the silver tongue of a bard, the ability to weave the most beautiful prose to describe what Jaskier means to him.

The summer cicadas are singing with renewed vigor, the sizzling sound disrupting his train of thought. For now, Geralt will need to content himself in simply being with Jaskier.

And, perhaps, in pressing a tiny kiss into his soft brown hair as well. Under the night sky, only the stars will know.

I didn't know plague doctor Jaskier could be a thing until I started writing this chapter, and the ending just had to make way for it. Sorry that the chapter count has gone up. I promise hugs are cuddles are on the way! <3

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @birdsflyhome @dapandapod @artisanbaguette

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt x jaskier #soft geralt #hug a witcher day #soft jaskier #cw: plague #guess this should be a warning #protective geralt #essi daven #jaskier sings to children

90 notes · View notes

nevertheless-moving · 4 years ago

Text

Suicidal Misunderstanding AU Part V (SW Time Travel AU #27)

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV

After a meandering walk through what felt like every path the hanging gardens and marsh pools had to offer, Obi-Wan stopped to lean against a stone wall.

“Obi-Wan? Are you ready to stop and eat something? As nice as this has been, I’m getting hungry and I’m guessing you are too.”

Anakin was only being a little sarcastic. It had genuinely been nice to peacefully spend the day with Obi-Wan like this- they hadn’t been to the marsh habitats since the war started. He had resigned himself to watching Obi-Wan enthusiastically greet every wandering knight, master, and elder who they passed.

It was actually starting to become impressive- Anakin never realized how many members of the Order his Master was friendly with- no wonder he was given a seat on the high council! But after the last heartfelt clasping of hands with a completely unfamiliar Bothan (thankfully for Anakin’s petty jealousy, Obi-Wan wasn’t hugging everyone), Anakin had asked who the knight was.

Obi Wan frowned. “No idea. But I suppose I must have seen him somewhere.”

Anakin was no longer feeling impressed.

When a group of crechelings wandered by, Obi-Wan appeared briefly overwhelmed with emotion. His shields (apparently even better drunken than sober) didn’t let anything specific slip. But he knew Obi-Wan was feeling something intensely. Bizarrely, instead of saying hello, Obi-Wan hurried out and away with Anakin dragged behind, bringing them back to the stone wall and their skipped breakfast.

“Not yet.” Obi-Wan responded hoarsely. “I want to visit the Room of A Thousand Fountains first, and say a few more goodbyes.”

“Goodbyes?” Anakin asked, a slight chill running down his back. “We’re not shipping back out until the end of the week. Do you always say goodbye to everyone this thoroughly before redeployment?”

“No. Do you think I should have?” Obi-Wan frowned. “I feel like that would have been more upsetting than anything else.”

“Ok then, why are you saying goodbye now? To the whole order?”

Obi-Wan didn’t reply, he just pushed off the wall to continue on his quest to apparently visit every corner of the temple.

“Master, please, you’re worrying me. If you won’t eat, then let me take you to the Healing Halls so they can check you over for drugs. We can visit the fountains after.”

Obi-Wan finally paused, thinking that over. “I would like to see Bant. She should be there, right?”

Bant did end up being there, and was more touched than disturbed by Obi-Wan’s sincere joy to see her. While Obi-Wan wandered the halls greeting injured Knights, she ran several tests.

“As far as I can tell, all you had last night was human-appropriate alcohol. No force-user specific drug interactions, and no traces of Spice. It’s possible there’s something I missed, but your force presence doesn’t feel off balance in the manner I specifically associate with drug-induced altered perception. Your blood sugar is a little low and you’re somewhat dehydrated, especially considering you’re in the temple, not out on a mission.”

“I’ll take care of my physical needs after I visit the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Just because a vision isn’t purely induced by the force doesn’t mean I can’t draw meaning from it. I do appreciate how you always looked out for me though, Bant. I’ve missed your fussing.” Obi-Wan smiled, clasping one of her hands in his.

Bant sighed, “If Master Yoda wasn’t off world I’d urge you to talk to him. I haven’t seen you this shaken by a vision since we were younglings. Even if you do seem to be handling it fairly... calmly.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “I’ll tell him you said that someday. I might be wrong, but I think he’ll be happy to learn about-” Obi-Wan gestured around vaguely, “all this. I’ll talk to him at some point. I’m sure of it.”

She glanced over at Anakin, who had been a quietly looming shadow the whole visit. He seemed both relieved by the diagnosis as well as bewildered. “Can I speak to you privately?”

Obi-Wan nodded and Anakin stalked out of the test room.

She scrutinized him, worry more obvious now, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slipping tenses this whole time. You’re still not sure where your vision ends and reality begins, are you? Do you even know when you are?”

Obi-Wan looked down. “I know what’s real and what’s not. I’m just...enjoying not fully living in the moment. I have every intention of waking up.”

“Yeah, that’s a BIG red flag, Obi-Wan. Force.” She tilted her head back and forth, examining him with obvious concern. “I am scheduling an appointment for a soul healer and you are going to go, understand?” She demanded.

Obi-Wan agreed far too easily. She reluctantly let him leave with an earnest promise to eat something real.

Obi-Wan came outside to find Anakin pacing.

“I’m glad you’re still here,” he told his former Padawan, ignoring the ache in his chest.

“Of course Ori’vod,” Anakin said, ducking his head with a shy smile. “What did Bant say?”

“She wants me to eat something real and visit a soul healer.” Obi-Wan sighed. “Well, I can do at least one of those things.”

“A soul healer! She thinks you’re crazy?” Anakin asked offended.

“First of all, you don’t have to be unstable to visit a soul healer. I’ve seen them in the past, when there wasn’t as much wrong with me. I’m sorry if I led you to believe you couldn’t seek out help for your problems.” Obi-Wan said. Another mistake.

“I-I know that. I just thought, you know, Jedi can be judgmental of that sort of thing. A good Jedi is supposed to be able to just, meditate stuff away.” Anakin said bitterly.

Obi-Wan thought furiously. Was this why he had been so blindsided by Anakin’s fall? Had his padawan been so afraid of judgement that he hid all of the warning sides of his struggles with darkness? Maybe he could ask Owen for some sort of petty assistance when he brought over bantha milk next time, to demonstrate to young Luke that it was ok to ask for help. No, he was probably still too young for those sorts of lessons to have much meaning. The insight would require meditation, when he was more sober.

Unsure how ‘Anakin’ would respond, Obi-Wan tentatively said, “You’re right, that some Jedi might judge for seeking such aid. But I think in the last years of the war, that sort of opinion became less and less common. After all, an ideal Jedi shouldn’t be leading an army. I don’t know if anyone can be perfect during war, let alone a peacekeeper.”

When that failed to garner positive or negative reply, Obi-Wan let out a breath. “It hardly matters, since I can’t exactly visit a therapist, let alone a soul healer, given my present living conditions.”

Anakin seemed to process that, giving Obi-Wan a long, searching look. “What’s your next point?”

“Hmm?”

“You said first of all, and I think that was all one thing, so what’s your second point?”

“Not exactly being able to visit a soul healer regularly doesn’t count as a separate retort?”

“I guess? I’m just trying to understand what you’re trying to tell me” A twinge of frustration crept into Anakin’s otherwise level tone.

"I appreciate that, truly, and I regret the number of hurtful miscommunications that sprung up from me failing to do just that. Well, I suppose, by most reasonable standards, I am ‘crazy.’ Getting some help with unraveling my mind would probably be best, if it were an option, but it isn’t so...” Obi-Wan shrugged.

Before any followup questions could be asked, they finally arrived at the main entrance to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The archway was stunning, water flowing upwards along the stone in intricate, shifting tessellations. When they stepped through, Obi-Wan was delighted to see Mace Windu sitting on a bench by the entrance.

“Mace! I was hoping to see you.”

Mace looked at him. He seemed at first, to be utterly unsurprised by the duo’s arrival. But the longer he stared, the more visible shock overtook his features. “Master Koon recommended I look for you...force what happened.”

Obi-Wan just chuckled. “Oh you know. What didn’t happen.”

“What’s wrong?” Anakin asked urgently. “What do you see, Master Windu?”

Obi-Wan tried to wave them both off, laugh a little more forced. “Please, I came here to relax. I’m sure it would be easier to say what’s not wrong with-”

“Kark it, Obi-Wan this isn’t a joking matter.” Master Windu’s voice was calm, but insistent. He slowly started approaching Obi-Wan as though the fellow council member were a feral loth-cat.

“You look as if...nearly every shatter point around you has broken open. Force, I think you’ve been carrying some of these with you since you were a child. Usually when things that deep break...And some of these- some of these are too big to have just affected you.” Mace hesitantly reached forward, brushing against something invisible.

A chill ran down Anakin’s spine, again. What the kriff did Obi-Wan see in his vision? Last night he mentioned the temple burning, their rooms turned to ash, and Anakin had just...let that go in favor of greedily spending time with this addictively affectionate version of Obi-Wan.

“Mace...” Obi-Wan groaned. “I had been wondering what you might say to me but this is...please, can’t you just give me a hug and let me enjoy the peace for one more hour.”

“Master Kenobi,” Mace said, seeming to revert to an even more serious version of himself. “What I see cracked open around you is bigger than the reemergence of the Sith on Naboo, bigger than the first battle of Genosis. Whatever has happened, you cannot possibly keep it to yourself, practically or morally.”

To the shock of both Windu and Skywalker, Obi-Wan actually rolled his eyes at that. “Mace. You are not telling me anything I do not already know. And I am choosing to spend a little longer enjoying the unique joys of the Temple before dealing with the harshness of reality. Haven’t I earned a small break? I’m not abandoning my duty, but if I don’t take care of myself where I can I’ll go madder than I already have.”

At no point did Obi-Wan’s voice get whiny or upset, he just calmly dropped a series of bombshells like he was repeating an argument.

Mace and Anakin exchanged glances, but if Mace was trying to communicate something, it was utterly lost on Anakin.

“Alright, Master Kenobi. I trust your judgement.”

And, to Anakin’s shock, Mace pulled Obi-Wan for a tight hug. “And I care about you, Obi-Wan.”

For a brief, hysterical moment, Anakin Skywalker wondered if he was about to witness his Master break down crying on the shoulder of Mace Windu the Master of the Jedi Order.

But Obi-Wan just let out a slow breath and returned the embrace before bowing deeply in Respect. Windu returned the bow with a placid expression.

“If you’ll excuse me...I think I’d like to stand by the waterfall alone for a moment.” He paused, turning to address Anakin. “If you’re willing to wait for me, I’ll happily rejoin you by the glowing mushrooms.” Anakin nodded silently and Obi-Wan beamed before leaving the two alone together.

Mace turned to the young knight in a silent demand for answers, and, for once, Anakin was eager to share what he was dealing with. “He came back drunk last night, talking about the temple burning down, and being well-”

“Unusually emotionally expressive?” Mace offered.

Anakin nodded. “Took a blood sample to analyze in the morning. He woke determined to hug every sentient being in the temple. I actually managed to get him to the halls just before we came here; Master Eerin said there was nothing in his system and...I just don’t know. He’s been off today, but not in a bad way, exactly. Could a vision have caused the shattering you saw?

Mace furrowed his brow. “Not any vision like I’ve ever seen but...these are dark times. And Master Kenobi has had historically bad luck. If some new cataclysm is coming for us- I absolutely believe he’d be the first of us to stumble into it. Something terrible and extraordinary must have happened in the 24 hours since I last saw him in person.”

A beat passed.

“I should go to the mushrooms before I lose track of him,” Anakin said quietly.

Mace nodded. “Skywalker, if you need assistance dragging him back to the healers for whatever reason, comm me, understood?”

“Understood. Master Koon said the same.” the Knight replied, heart pounding.

The Windu clasped him on the shoulder firmly, "I’m going to check in with Master Eerin. It’s possible she has some suspicions that my observations will help her confirm. Until then...”

“I’ll look out for him.” Anakin promised.

Part VI

#star wars #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au no 27 #my au #sw #time travel #obi wan kenobi needs a hug #oh boy we are BUILDING towards the #angst #it 1am #lol im supposed to work tomorrow but ive said that before #thank you everyone for being supportive im glad youre all hyperventilating with me over this sad boy

244 notes · View notes

a-secret-bolton-vampire · 3 years ago

Text

Daenerys Stormborn, Part 2: Wake the Dragon

Oh hey, I have part 2 already! Guess my brain is really focused on Dany now. In part 1, I talked about Dany's arcs from AGOT to ASOS, exploring the narrative and thematic purpose of her journey. However, the most important part of her journey occurs in ADWD, and sets the stage for some incredibly exciting developments to come in TWOW. For part 2, I'll be talking about the gradual transformation of Daenerys into a slightly different, darker character for the future.

Breaker of Chains & Mhysa

Slavery has been an important background element throughout Dany's time in Essos, even in AGOT, but it becomes front and centre in ASOS. She accepted the Dothraki, a society that uses slaves for many things, and wasn't too perturbed at the use of slaves in Qarth. However, it is in Astapor where she finally realizes just how bad the institution is, as she tells Xaro:

"Whence came this madness? Should I count myself fortunate that you did not free my own slaves when you were my guest in Qarth?" I was a beggar queen and you were Xaro of the Thirteen, Dany thought, and all you wanted were my dragons. "Your slaves seemed well treated and content. It was not till Astapor that my eyes were opened."

As mentioned last time, ASOS is when she begins to take control of her destiny, and she does so by beginning a revolution to free the slaves of Slaver's Bay. She believe she has a greater destiny lying ahead of her, that there is a reason for her dragons, the red comet. She also has great empathy for people and sees this disturbing injustice being played out with nobody to stop it. But she has the power to do so, and thus she begins by going fire and blood at Astapor, killing the Good Masters and freeing all the slaves. Afterwards, she leaves the city with a ruling council of a priest, a scholar, and a healer and moves to Yunkai.

She does a different approach with Yunkai, negotiating with the Wise Masters to surrender their slaves and to leave them in peace. And then when she arrives at Meereen, she decides to stay and rule as its queen. This is where things begin to get difficult for Daenerys. The ruling council of Astapor is overthrown by a butcher named Cleon, who said the council was conspiring to bring back slavery, who declares himself King of Astapor, enslaves the children of the former Good Masters to make new Unsullied, and tries to ally with Daenerys against Yunkai, who has resumed slavery.

Daenerys is not interested in any war with Yunkai. The reason she stays in Meereen is exactly because she learned what happened when she left Astapor. The fire and blood approach didn't work. You can't just dismantle such a deeply engrained system so easily. So instead she opts to rule, and protect the people she can. While a lot of readers view Dany's actions in Meereen as pointless, the whims of a naive girl, and poor leadership, I actually think it's the opposite.

For starters, Dany realized that she can't simply burn the slavers to end slavery, but she needs to stay and instill changes. While King Cleon repeatedly begs for Daenerys to join the war against Yunkai, she refuses, and warns Cleon to not do such a thing. She turns out to be horribly right, as Cleon is killed, Astapor is sieged, before being slaughtered, burned, and sacked, to be reinstated as a slave city once more. Likewise, the Yunkish siege Meereen, first by creating a blockade in the bay with ships, and then by having armies amassed outside the city walls.

In addition, refugees from Astapor begin to pile up outside the city, and a deadly plague called the pale mare (for the horse from Astapor that arrives at Meereen) begins to sweep the starving Astapori freedmen, who begin to resort to cannibalism to survive. Dany blames herself for leaving Astapor a mess, but does not wish to have the same thing happen in Meereen. She wants to protect the people she's freed, not just from the Yunkish, but herself as well.

When a sheepherder brings the burned bones of his daughter, Hazzea, who was killed by her dragons, Dany has Rhaegal and Viserion chained in the dungeons below the Great Pyramid to prevent them from causing any more harm. However, Drogon is still loose, unable to be found. In addition, when the sons of the harpy, a terrorist group opposed to the emancipation of Meereen, begin massacring freedmen, Dany decides to raise a tax on the Great Masters and have all families of suspect loyalty send a child to serve as a hostage and cupbearers. Yet, as the killings continue, she has grown close to the children and decides not to have them killed.

Now, some of you may notice that I am taking a lot from the Meereenese Blot essays written by Adam Feldman. That's not only because they are really well written essays, but ones that GRRM himself has approved of.

"I read those when someone pointed them out to me, and I was really pleased with them, because at least one guy got it. He got it completely, he knew exactly what I was trying to do there, and evidently I did it well enough for people who were paying attention."

So I am retreading some of the ground Feldman has laid, but it's important to do so if I am to build up to what I think is going to happen in the future of Dany's story.

As Feldman notes, Dany's own actions (or in the case of the cupbearers, inaction) actually made a peace possible, because the Yunkish saw that she was someone who is capable of mercy and not a (in their eye) violent mass murderer. Knowing what happened with Astapor, and seeing what happens when her dragons are unleashed with Hazzea, Dany decides to make peace with the Yunkish and marry Hizdahr.

Under the peace, Meereen itself would remain a free city, but the Yunkish would continue to sell slaves. They even sell them in markets outside the walls of Meereen, which displeases Daenerys extremely. In addition, slaveowners could bring their slaves into Meereen without fear of them being freed, and the Yunkish promised to respect the rights of the freedmen in Meereen. Yet, despite the peace and the progress made, she feels as though this is a defeat.

This is peace, she told herself. This is what I wanted, what I worked for, this is why I married Hizdahr. So why does it taste so much like defeat?

The thing is, Daenerys has had to sacrifice so much of herself and her morals to get to this point. Yes there is peace, even if it is tentative, Meereen would not be sacked by the Yunkish, but slavery is still going on, and she thinks that she has let herself and other people down by agreeing to peace and allowing the Yunkish to continue slavery. She has agreed to peace to people she loathes and thinks are despicable, she has married a man she does not love and does not love her, she has chained her dragons in the pit below, she has allowed the fighting pits to reopen. This comes to ahead at Daznak's Pit when she is at the height of her discomfort.

The boar buried his snout in Barsena's belly and began rooting out her entrails. The smell was more than the queen could stand. The heat, the flies, the shouts from the crowd … I cannot breathe. She lifted her veil and let it flutter away. She took her tokar off as well. The pearls rattled softly against one another as she unwound the silk.

And then Drogon arrives, and in the chaos of him attacking the boar and being attacked by the soldiers in the pit, Dany tries to calm him, but he spits fire at her, and she tries to tame him by whipping him into submission. Here, Dany is quite literally fighting herself. She herself in this moment represents the Queen of Meereen, someone who desires for peace. Meanwhile, Drogon represents the dragon inside her, who wants to unleash blood and fire on her enemies. In the end, Dany climbs onto Drogon and they fly away together, which foreshadows and symbolizes Dany's later decision to choose being the dragon.

Despite her frustrations in Meereen, the peace was a good first step. Not to say that it solved every issue, it didn't, but that doesn't need to be the end of it. Daenerys could forge new peaces, new agreements, and if she stayed in Meereen, she could implement great changes throughout Slaver's Bay. But what is done is done, and cannot be undone. The peace that was forged is now gone. Next comes war.

The House with the Red Door

Before we move on to Dany's final chapter and what that means for the future, we must take a look at a very important part of her backstory which is one of the main elements of her own story. Sure, destiny, greatness, prophecy, power, and identity are themes with Daenerys, but at the center of it all is the desire for home. Dany was born on Dragonstone, but was whisked away to Braavos, and there she lived in the house with the red door, with Viserys, Ser Willem Darry, and their servants.

To Dany, the house with the red door was the only place in her life she called home, and she has very fond memories of it, of Willem, or the lemon tree. But after Willem died, they were kicked out and forced to become beggars on the streets, selling off their possessions and travelling the Free Cities. The red door was closed and gone forever after, but the dream of having a home hasn't.

Daenerys has a desire for home, for love, for family. Throughout her childhood, Viserys would tell Dany all about Westeros, how they need to take back the Iron Throne, that the Seven Kingdoms were the most beautiful lands in the world. And sure enough, soon, Westeros represents the idea for home and belonging to Dany.

"I pray for home too," she told him, believing it. Ser Jorah laughed. "Look around you then, Khaleesi." But it was not the plains Dany saw then. It was King's Landing and the great Red Keep that Aegon the Conqueror had built. It was Dragonstone where she had been born. In her mind's eye they burned with a thousand lights, a fire blazing in every window. In her mind's eye, all the doors were red.

Although she takes on the mantle as the new head of House Targaryen and carries on Viserys's dream of taking back the Iron Throne out of a sense of duty, she also does so for desire to belong in a place she can call home. It's a nostalgic feeling she gets of the old days, that she wants to relive again.

But then other ambitions get in her way. She frees the slaves of Slaver's Bay, and decides to stay in Meereen to try to ensure that her revolution succeeds. Thus, her quest for home is put on hold. Throughout ADWD, she gives up parts of herself, to try to become one with the Meereenese; marrying Hizdahr, reopening the fighting pits, chaining her dragons, dressing in the Ghiscari fashion, and making peace. But in the Dothraki sea, hundreds of miles outside Meereen, she finds that she wasn't being her true self, that she can never be the Queen of Meereen, or become a true Meereenese.

I must keep walking. Water flows downhill. The stream will take me to the river, and the river will take me home. Except it wouldn't, not truly. Meereen was not her home, and never would be. It was a city of strange men with strange gods and stranger hair, of slavers wrapped in fringed tokars, where grace was earned through whoring, butchery was art, and dog was a delicacy. Meereen would always be the Harpy's city, and Daenerys could not be a harpy.

The series is all about the human heart in conflict with itself, and Daenerys in ADWD is one of the best examples of that. She was struggling with her two competing titles of Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons, but in the end she was not comfortable with being the Breaker of Chains. This final transformation she undergoes in the Dothraki sea really sets the tone for what she will do in the future, and how she will change as a person and character.

Mother of Dragons

Daenerys X is one of the more bizarre chapters in the series, since it follows only one character alone with her thoughts, but it works extremely well as a character study, and the development over the course of the chapter is one of my favourites in the whole series. Through all the hallucinations and visions and dreams Daenerys has during this chapter, it's important to remember that they all (apart from possibly Quaithe) are her, so the discussions she has are with her own internal thoughts directly.

The topic of Targaryen madness reoccurs throughout the series, but it's ADWD where it is brought up the most. Now, the topic of Targaryen madness will be another post i will do in the far future and won't discuss in depth today, but the matter is that Dany is aware of some of it, even if she hasn't fully accepted the truth of her father. She fears that she is succumbing to the madness at points.

"Your Grace?" Missandei stood in the door of the queen's bedchamber, a lantern in her hand. "Who are you talking to?" Dany glanced back toward the persimmon tree. There was no woman there. No hooded robe, no lacquer mask, no Quaithe. A shadow. A memory. No one. She was the blood of the dragon, but Ser Barristan had warned her that in that blood there was a taint. Could I be going mad? They had called her father mad, once.

Later, she implies this fear again to Barristan.

I lived in fear for fourteen years, my lord. I woke afraid each morning and went to sleep afraid each night … but my fears were burned away the day I came forth from the fire. Only one thing frightens me now." "And what is it that you fear, sweet queen?" "I am only a foolish young girl." Dany rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. "But not so foolish as to tell you that. My men shall look at these ships. Then you shall have my answer."

But in an early version of Daenerys III, the answer Daenerys gave was "myself". She fears what would happen if she "woke the dragon", as Viserys put it. She's afraid of succumbing to the madness that consumed her father and probably was consuming Viserys. She's afraid of what would happen if she unleashed her dragons, how many innocents they would kill. But in the Dothraki sea, she begins to question her decisions, starting when she woke up after finding blood between her thighs:

"I am the blood of the dragon," she told the grass, aloud. Once, the grass whispered back, until you chained your dragons in the dark. "Drogon killed a little girl. Her name was … her name …" Dany could not recall the child's name. That made her so sad that she would have cried if all her tears had not been burned away. "I will never have a little girl. I was the Mother of Dragons." Aye, the grass said, but you turned against your children.

The importance of this quote cannot go unnoticed. She thinks about Hazzea all the time throughout the book, feeling deeply guilty about what Drogon did to her. But here, at the end, she cannot remember her name. The in world explanation is that, of course, she is delirious from being in the wilderness eating berries and being sick, but thematically this is her slowly turning away from the people she freed. Next comes a dream with Viserys (long quote incoming):

She dreamt of her dead brother. Viserys looked just as he had the last time she'd seen him. His mouth was twisted in anguish, his hair was burnt, and his face was black and smoking where the molten gold had run down across his brow and cheeks and into his eyes. "You are dead," Dany said. Murdered. Though his lips never moved, somehow she could hear his voice, whispering in her ear. You never mourned me, sister. It is hard to die unmourned. "I loved you once." Once, he said, so bitterly it made her shudder. You were supposed to be my wife, to bear me children with silver hair and purple eyes, to keep the blood of the dragon pure. I took care of you. I taught you who you were. I fed you. I sold our mother's crown to keep you fed. "You hurt me. You frightened me." Only when you woke the dragon. I loved you. "You sold me. You betrayed me." No. You were the betrayer. You turned against me, against your own blood. They cheated me. Your horsey husband and his stinking savages. They were cheats and liars. They promised me a golden crown and gave me this. He touched the molten gold that was creeping down his face, and smoke rose from his finger. "You could have had your crown," Dany told him. "My sun-and-stars would have won it for you if only you had waited." I waited long enough. I waited my whole life. I was their king, their rightful king. They laughed at me. "You should have stayed in Pentos with Magister Illyrio. Khal Drogo had to present me to the dosh khaleen, but you did not have to ride with us. That was your choice. Your mistake." Do you want to wake the dragon, you stupid little whore? Drogo's khalasar was mine. I bought them from him, a hundred thousand screamers. I paid for them with your maidenhead. "You never understood. Dothraki do not buy and sell. They give gifts and receive them. If you had waited …" I did wait. For my crown, for my throne, for you. All those years, and all I ever got was a pot of molten gold. Why did they give the dragon's eggs to you? They should have been mine. If I'd had a dragon, I would have taught the world the meaning of our words. Viserys began to laugh, until his jaw fell away from his face, smoking, and blood and molten gold ran from his mouth.

The dream terrifies Daenerys, but once again, Viserys (really herself here) is telling her she is stalling in a place she doesn't belong, that she needs to go home, that she should embrace being a dragon. The climax of this comes right after she realizes Meereen would never be her home, where she argues with Jorah (again, herself):

Meereen would always be the Harpy's city, and Daenerys could not be a harpy. Never, said the grass, in the gruff tones of Jorah Mormont. You were warned, Your Grace. Let this city be, I said. Your war is in Westeros, I told you. The voice was no more than a whisper, yet somehow Dany felt that he was walking just behind her. My bear, she thought, my old sweet bear, who loved me and betrayed me. She had missed him so. She wanted to see his ugly face, to wrap her arms around him and press herself against his chest, but she knew that if she turned around Ser Jorah would be gone. "I am dreaming," she said. "A waking dream, a walking dream. I am alone and lost." Lost, because you lingered, in a place that you were never meant to be, murmured Ser Jorah, as softly as the wind. Alone, because you sent me from your side. "You betrayed me. You informed on me, for gold." For home. Home was all I ever wanted. "And me. You wanted me." Dany had seen it in his eyes. I did, the grass whispered, sadly. "You kissed me. I never said you could, but you did. You sold me to my enemies, but you meant it when you kissed me." I gave you good counsel. Save your spears and swords for the Seven Kingdoms, I told you. Leave Meereen to the Meereenese and go west, I said. You would not listen. "I had to take Meereen or see my children starve along the march." Dany could still see the trail of corpses she had left behind her crossing the Red Waste. It was not a sight she wished to see again. "I had to take Meereen to feed my people." You took Meereen, he told her, yet still you lingered. "To be a queen." You are a queen, her bear said. In Westeros. "It is such a long way," she complained. "I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl." No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words. "Fire and Blood," Daenerys told the swaying grass.

And here is where everything changes. She has spent time trying to protect innocent lives, to make peace, not war, to be loved and accepted by Meereen. But here, she decides that it is time to do away with that. Meereen is not her home, Westeros is, and it's time to wake the dragon and burn Yunkai. No longer will she be burdened by the idea of a cost of innocent lives, no longer will she fear herself, and no longer will she linger. When the time comes, she will burn her enemies and leave for Westeros.

I need to make a few things clear here, however. For one, I don't think she's mad now, this is just her resolving her internal conflict. For another, I don't care what she does to the slavers. They deserve what's coming for them. She will still care about the innocent, but she's now going to go full-blooded Targaryen and burn cities to the ground, and this will mean massive collateral damage she will try to rationalize away.

Daenerys has now transformed into a different, much darker character, which I feel will continue to define her for the rest of the series. She is now the Mother of Dragons, in her entirety, and Essos is about to bleed and burn. I really appreciate how GRRM put this together, and that she didn't stay fire and blood after Astapor. His character development is realistic, and sometimes the development is not linear. In part 3, I will be discussing predictions about Daenerys's arc and story in TWOW, more specifically what she will do in Essos.

#asoiaf #asoiaf meta #asoiaf character arcs #daenerys targaryen #daenerys stormborn #mother of dragons #adwd #meereen

60 notes · View notes

justbeingtalea · 4 years ago

Text

It has been a while, so I guess here I am, talking about more Fantasy High friendships, because that is what I do best:

And listen. Maybe it is just something about the symbolism of the main damage dealer and the healer of the group, but I adore Kristen and Gorgug and their friendship so much and it makes so much sense why thinking about them makes me emotional.

Gorgug Thistlespring didn’t have any friends, as far as we know, for years. Nobody to talk to, nobody to spend time with, nobody that cared about him. He was always too big, too angry, too quiet and to sensitive, so it was way easier for others to bully and make fun of him, instead of trying to get to know him and be his friend. And of course he had his parents, that love him so endlessly, but he always saw himself as less than them. He saw these talented, smart, kind gnomes that were always nice and sweet and then looked at himself and saw the exact opposite. And we have seen multiple times how Wilma and Digby, despite their best efforts, were not able to understand Gorgug either or connect with him.

And then we have Kristen Applebees, who had a lot of people around her at all times, while growing up in a family with four (?) children and having the big church community around her. But most of the people around her, that weren’t literal children, were either super religious, homophobic, racist or in a straight up cult that wanted to bring about the end of the world (most of the time they were even all of those things). So while she had a lot of people to talk with and that talked to her, she always had to be cautious about what to say and what questions to ask, because if she was unlucky she would get yelled at, not talked to anymore or lectured about Helio and right and wrongs.

And these two not only find each other, but a whole group of people and even partners, who love them, understand them and are not only willing to ask them questions, but also answer questions. And while that is absolutely amazing, that is something that neither Kristen nor Gorgug had before and if you are not used to that than you a promised to make mistakes and fuck up and the two Bad Kids are not exceptions from that.

Gorgug forgetting to prioritize talking to Zelda before he left, because he is still not used to have anyone care that much about him, that somebody might want to know where he is, what he is up to or even that somebody would want to keep in touch with him. Kristen having the fight with Tracker because it was always easier to just let things go instead of “sticking her nose into other peoples business”, but forgetting that Tracker loves her and trusts her and has always been so honest and open towards her, to afraid to get scolded or in trouble with Sandra-Lynn.

Maybe that Is why these two are so good for each other and get along so easily, because they both know these struggles of being terrible at communication, of not knowing what to say or when to say it or even if to say it at all. And because they both now that trouble they don’t have to worry that much about accidentally hurting each other because the other will know not to take it personally. And they have been good for each other since their first day of school and have not stopped since then.

Like Gorgug always trying to to protect Kristen in battle and wanting to stand between her and the danger. Making sure that Kristen can get, where she needs to go and taking damage instead so that Kristen can help the others. Offering to carry Kristen out of the Forest of the Nightmare King before Fig revealed that she would be faster. Offering Kristen his headphones, when she needed to be blind and deaf. Apologizing for not being there for her the second time that she died.

Or like Kristen, defending Gorgug from himself when he called himself stupid. Trying his best to help him when he texted Zelda that first time. Immediately agreeing to call him Skipper when he was feeling down. Complimenting Gorgug on his strength or style. Wanting to help him built a celltower, even if she herself had no idea how to do that.

The moment they both shared in the Hangvan when Kristen found Gorgug still awake, was so important for both of them and highlighted their relationship so well. Gorgug not taking Kristens comment about how there was no time difference between Fallinel and Elmville personally, but instead using the moment to ask her, if she also had a problem with communication. Talking about how neither of them was sure how to fix their problems with their partners. Sharing the hug that they both needed so badly in that moment and then promising each other that they wouldn’t make the mistakes from their relationships with each other.

They care about each other so much, with all their flaws and all their problems. Two teenagers just trying to learn and grow and help the people that they care about in their own ways and as best as they can.

#fantasy high #fantasy high sophomore year #d20 fantasy high #d20 fh #d20 fhsy #dimension20 #dimension 20 #dimension20 fh #dimension20 fhsy #dimension 20 fantasy high #dimension 20 fantasy high sophomore year #gorgug thistlespring #gorgug fantasy high #kristen applebees #kristen fantasy high

177 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 3 years ago

Note

Is it bad that I feel Penny’s 2nd permanent death has cheapened the stakes to me to such an extent I don’t care if the character’s life are in danger or even ended? Unless they die in a particularly gruesome manner…I don’t care. Penny’s death was cheap, tasteless, and I think sucked all the stakes to me.

I've personally had a problem with RWBY's death stakes ever since Weiss' injury in the Haven fight. Making that an episode cliffhanger when we all knew RT would never commit to killing one of the main four, using that as the means of unlocking Jaune's semblance, and then, importantly, never following up on how Weiss deals with a near-death experience felt quite cheap to me. It was a moment where death/grievous injury was used only for the week long shock value (similar to Oscar's disappearance in Volume 6) and a means of furthering Jaune's abilities rather than Weiss' emotional growth (particularly egregious in a show where 99% of the cast already has their semblances unlocked. Revealing them in a dramatic, life-or-death situation was never an expectation). The fact that it was such a departure from how the story treated Yang in the past — committing to her injury and allowing her time to come to terms with it — just made it all the worse.

However, though this was one moment out of one volume that fans might be willing to overlook for a variety of reasons, Volumes 7-8 just failed so spectacularly and so often that yeah, death has no real meaning in this show anymore.

Let's tally things up:

Clover dies in large part to Qrow's stupidity. This is never acknowledged.

Qrow instead swears vengeance against Ironwood. They never meet again.

Whether everyone agrees or not, this entire situation came too close to queerbaiting for some fans.

Clover's corpse/the environment is badly animated, leading to confusion about whether he actually died.

Oscar is shot off of Atlas in a move that would have been a killing blow if not for Ozpin's unexpected magic. He never works through this and likewise never even explains things to the rest of the group, adding to the secrets issue.

The councilman is randomly shot by Ironwood, signaling his fast-track towards villainy.

The Ace Ops and, more importantly, Winter all witness this, yet it has no impact on them remaining loyal until leaving him serves the plot.

Ironwood tearing the flesh off his arm to save everyone from Watts is treated as evidence of his lack of humanity and the prosthetic he gets carries is designed to highlight how Evil he is now.

Fria dies which has little emotional weight because we knew nothing about her. She was quite literally only a vessel for the powers and was treated as such by the story.

The Hound, introduced as an incredibly formidable foe, is done in by a badly developed power and a falling suit of armor. There's no interest in who that faunus was, only what this implies for Summer.

Hazel death is confusing af. He couldn't have burned to death that fast. Oscar's cane shouldn't have hurt him based on what else we see. Where's the body? All of this follows a split-second "redemption."

Vine sacrifices himself and no one cares because we knew nothing about him. Also it's kind of weird to frame his heroic suicide as, you know, heroic after a volume of telling Penny she can't do the same. It's just weird mixed messaging.

Rhodes was killed incredibly fast by his kid student and although I care a little about him, the general consensus is that this was a girlboss moment because flawed men trying to help are the worst, right? Far worse than a villain we established in Episode One.

Watts presumably burns to death off screen.

Ironwood presumably drowns off screen.

Jacques is blown up without any of his family knowing about it. He's blown up because Winter just... left Ironwood's gun-gun by the cell?

The community is still debating whether Maria and Pietro are alive. Was Amity still falling? Was there any way off? Why don't any of the characters worry about them, one of whom is Pietro's daughter?

Yang "dies" after a single hit and only Blake gets to react to that.

The rest of the group (plus Jaune) quickly follow, to the surprise of no one.

Penny is resurrected with little fanfare, is stripped of her cyborg nature, gears up to take on Cinder with Weiss and Jaune, is instantly taken out, and then convinces the healer of the group to kill her.

The Altas arc has so much death and grievous injury — clearly trying to be the next Volume 3 — and yet none of it has an (enjoyable) impact on me. Sometimes that's because RT is killing off side characters they never bothered to develop. Sometimes it's because the writing is so confusing idek if the character is dead. Sometimes it's because the circumstances induce anger rather than grief. Penny's second death definitely caused a reaction, but not the one RT was going for. I was frustrated with how badly constructed this suicide was, disappointed in how the circumstances leading up to this erased so much that's wonderful about Penny's character, and yeah, disgusted that we were right back to that Volume 5 Weiss scenario: here's the graphic death/almost death of one of the girls to forward his story. Only this time, instead of just getting a cauterized spear to the gut, RT thought assisted-suicide via sword was the way to go.

Penny's original death was heart wrenching. Pyrrha's was tragic due to how avoidable it was. Roman's was shocking and perfect for setting the new stakes. We didn't know if Ozpin survived, but back then that was the point — a mystery to reveal next volume — not because the scene was badly constructed, or the writing seemingly just forgot that characters existed. And again, flawed as it was in some respects, we got a story of Yang losing an arm and coming to terms with that. Now, we get the story of a man losing his arm and that makes him lose his intelligence and conscience too, I guess.

I'm trying to think of a post-Volume 3 death that hit home and I'm coming up short. But deaths like Sienna or Tock, while carrying their own problems, didn't really hint at the over-arching problem with character deaths the story now has. With the comparative wealth of fatalities we got in Volumes 7-8, I was finally able to step back and go, "Wow. Right...none of that did anything for me." And yeah, as one of the most shocking deaths, as a second death, and as one of the oldest and most beloved side characters, Penny encapsulates that best of all.

#rwby #rwde #mymetas #salting the blog tonight lol

43 notes · View notes

ninyaaure · 3 years ago

Text

@thecircusfreaks

“So it’s like that. If people aren’t able to seek out places like these due to bandits and other kind of terrors, that will make traveling across the empire much more dangerous. It’s important that people know that they can rely on the ability of knights, clerks and all those that work in service of the people and the empire. It’s exactly for that reason we wish to have some of you with us in the capital, learn from you and teach you ways to handle threats and improve on safety for yourself and those that place their trust in you.”

Those in the emperor’s inner-circle all knew it. The forces that plagued the land centuries ago were slowly rising once more. The lord of darkness was returning, maybe not at this very moment but it wouldn’t take another decade. “As for now, our emperor and his family are in good health, we like to train more capable healers and exchange knowledge to make sure it stays that way. Would you be able to bring me into contact with your grand priestess? If possible, me and my men also wish to stay the night … naturally, we don’t wish to overstay our welcome but they’re tired and need to replenish their energy.”

Aurora only replied with a firm nod of her head but his words truly resonated with her. All her life in the shrine she had been trained to heal whoever or whatever needed it no matter the situation or person. She instantly understood why someone like him was the general and guessing he came here in person this wasn't just a simple ‘recruiting visit’.

Aurora gathered the last bits to dispose of while she spoke; ¨ I’ll bring you to her right away and don’t worry about your stay here. We are a humble shrine but I'm sure we’ll be able to ensure a pleasant stay for your men here.” She showed him a warm confident smile and then hurried off to the door.

The corridors of the shrine were only lit by the little daylight that came through but since the stones were all white it was surprisingly bright. Aurora walked beside the general in silence, he didn't seem like the type for idle chatting so neither was she. The main hall was already bustling with noise with monks and priests surrounding the great priestess already heavily debating. “It..seems they already know about the matter..” she muttered slightly confused because she had never seen them so upset or worried. With one final glance, she was about to say her goodbyes to the general but out of nowhere the stuff she had been carrying was taken out of her arms by another priest who hurriedly scurried off and the voice of the head priestess clear voice followed; “ You can stay here Aurora this matter involves you as well.”

The head priestess was blind and old but her authority and power simply radiated from her and the room instantly fell into a silence. Aurora swallowed and straightened up feeling the familiar nervosity creep up. The hazy blue eyes of the priestess then fell on the general and smiled slightly. “ Welcome general Dumonde to our humble shrine, although the last bit of your journey was interrupted who do hope you and your men will be at ease under our roof. You see...one of your men handed us the imperial order you are here to enlighten us about but as you can see...”Her hand gestured around the room and her tone turned slightly embarrassed. “We are all old and too frail to assist you in the matter except for one. Though I am very fond of my youngest apprentice...I hope you accept her as the only recruit.”

Aurora’s heart pounded like crazy but she didn't know if she was scared or excited perhaps it was both but if this is what the head priestess had in mind for her. She would not question or doubt that decision. Aurora turned towards Charle and kneeled with both knees on the ground not looking up to him as she spoke; “I also request you heed to her words of not pushing the rest of us since I care deeply for their wellbeing and fear whatever journey we may go on will be too much. I will gladly accept this order from our priestess if you will have me...”

#☀️; Aurora #interactions; Charle #thecircusfreaks

24 notes · View notes

chalkrevelations · 3 years ago

Text

So, Episode 7 of Word of Honor, and where to start? No, I’m kidding, I know exactly where I’m starting, which is with some recognition of what a great job this show does of developing 98 percent of its multitude of characters, because the first two things I’m going talk about this week aren’t even Zhou Zishu, Wen Kexing OR Wen Kexing’s thirst (AKA, the three main characters of the show).

Well, I guess I’m really starting with the usual warning – this is a re-watch and so there are SPOILERS here, not only for this episode, but for most of the show. Scroll away and come back later if you’re trying to watch all 36.5 eps unspoiled.

SO, I mean, come on. Of course I’m starting with the Smartest Man in the World, who has finally shown up in this episode, and I’m reminded once again what an actual cinnamon roll, too good for this world, Cao Weining is. He’s maybe the single completely good character we meet – even Chengling wants to burn down somebody’s house at one point because he’s mad. But Cao Weining is almost too good to be true – and yet, there he is! Living his best life, being good, eating good, falling in love, and refusing to let his beautiful, clever, fierce girl’s neuroses come between them. I love him, y’all. And not just because he instantly falls in love with A-Xiang when he happens to see her beat up a bunch of drunk bro assholes in the inn where he’s having a quiet little lunch by himself before she storms into his life like a purple whirlwind. But let’s do think about this from his perspective, yeah? And let’s remember it as we watch the progression of their relationship, as we wait for the revelation we know is coming, and as – many eps down the line – he learns the truth of her. Cao Weining’s first experience of A-Xiang is someone who’s brave and capable, who defies outsized odds to come to the rescue of those in need, who doesn’t allow women and girls to be abused, who expects proper behavior from the representatives of the jianghu, and who is absolutely fearless in demanding just treatment and never even thinks to be intimidated when she faces unfair censure from an authority figure. This is the girl WKX raised, y’all. This is a girl who embodies everything Cao Weining has been taught to believe in as a cultivator. And this is the girl Cao Weining sees every time he looks at A-Xiang. Maybe, just maybe, this is the truth of her, and Cao-dage sees and understands it from the very first time he spots her, and anything else he’ll learn about her is really extraneous. (Hmm. I wonder what other relationship we’ll eventually end up seeing that kind of dynamic in, where someone truly knows you and believes in you, so everything else is unimportant?) Also, Cao Weining tells A-Xiang she’s very beautiful, and how many people do you think have ever told her that before in her life? He asks why he would want to fight and hurt her, and how many people – particularly men, given where she grew up – have ever told her that before? He buys her lunch – twice, because the first round gets cold. Remember a few episodes back, when WKX asked her who the second cutest person in the world was, and she responded that it was someone who would buy her a meal? Well, here he is. For bonus points, it is hilarious how badly WKX responds to Cao Weining’s very existence after ZZS points out the pair of them having a toast at the same inn that WKX and ZZS have stopped in WKX has dogged ZZS’s footsteps into. Poor Cao Weining doesn’t even get the shovel talk – although to be fair, he doesn’t get the full-court Ghost Valley Master press, either, so WKX must have been holding back somewhat – he just gets told to get out, before WKX grabs A-Xiang by the ear and delivers some scathing commentary on her taste in men, like he didn’t immediately fall for some rando who was tits out, drinking himself to death in the gutter.

ANYWAY, from the Smartest Man in the World, we’re going to move to Han Ying, My Beloved, who we see interacting with the Five Lakes Alliance again, this time in the person of Gao Chong, leader of Yueyang Sect and host of the upcoming Heroes Conference, da-ge of the 5LA. I had honestly forgotten we got to see so much of Han Ying this early on. What strikes me here is that this is a guy who I actually could believe is the second-in-command of Tian Chuang at what is it? 21 years old? When he’s doing his job, and ZZS is nowhere around for him to make pining puppy-dog eyes at, he’s focused and determined and a bit forceful and somewhat threatening and, frankly, appropriately arrogant for the job he’s been sent to do. He’s also wearing a cloak with a mini-Collar of Evil. He comes off as, dare I say, a capable leader of an assassin organization and a guy who’s able to do a proxy flex for his boss without looking completely ridiculous - which puts him one up on Duang Pengju, omg that asshole, and also makes me feel a little better about how I want ZZS to wreck him (or I guess, technically, him to wreck ZZS, because I’ve never seen a character (except Marcus Flavius Aquila, THANK YOU for your service, Channing Tatum) who put off such subby service-top vibes. WHY is there not more Han Ying/ZZS on AO3, fandom? I thought better … worse? … better? … of you.) When Gao Chong claims the Glazed Armor is a myth, Han Ying basically calls this older, respected zongzhu a liar and gets up in his face before refusing a dinner invitation and sweeping out in his mini-Collar of Evil with a credible “PAH.” My boy has layers, y’all.

What else? We start out the ep at Luo Mansion, a wedding scene, and I’m struck by how the Ghost Valley colors match traditional wedding colors, here. I’m thinking about how A-Xiang’s wedding dress won’t be red (and I think green was more common during the Tang dynasty?) although all the decorations will be, and I’m thinking about how we have this wedding as a book-end to that wedding, and I’m thinking about how it’s interesting that a girl who was raised in the Ghost Valley and protected by the Department of the Unfaithful meets a man who’s going to be so faithful to her in the same episode as this wedding with/of the dead. Ghoul, who’s one of the attendees from the Ghost Valley, also remarks that the red makes him hungry, so there’s a meat reference to throw into the thematic basket, I guess. (Also, hey. Ghoul is played by the same guy who’s Sun Yongren in Killer & Healer.) Lovelace (ugh) briefly menaces one of the Department handmaidens before Luo Fumeng shows up, and I think she’s Yun Zai or Hong Lu, one of the two maids that A-Xiang rescued from him, although I’m not positive, because her hairstyle is so different and hides a lot of her face, here. So, we’re all attending the “wedding” of Mu Yunge, the apparent fuckboy who got got a couple of episodes ago as bait for Ao Laizi when Changing Ghost got his hands (briefly) on the Danyang Glazed Armor. We did see a brief scene with Yunge in the last ep, when he woke up tied up in bed, being menaced by someone who appeared to be his dead lover – who hanged herself while pregnant with their child – but turned out to be Beauty Ghost using a face-masking technique similar to ZZS’s disguises. In the interim, Ghost Valley has kidnapped 10 cultivators as his wedding party, and – this is the important plot point – that includes Deng Kuan, head disciple of Yueyang Sect. We get to see some of Beauty Ghost’s ruthlessness here, as she carries in the dead woman’s memorial tablet draped in a red cloth – how’s that for some foreshadowing (my f’kn HEART) – to set it down in the “bride’s” place before Yunge is forced to bow three times. (Dead girlfriend was a Mo from Broken Arrow Manor, and I … am not sure if that is significant or not. Is she possibly related to Mo Huaiyang? Does anyone know which sect is associated with Broken Arrow Manor?) Beauty Ghost also kills two of the 10 “guest” cultivators for talking without permission as she explains the next event to them – cage match. Only one of them gets to get out alive. Deng Kuan, the best of them, apparently, pleads with everyone to not let themselves be divided, but we can all guess how this is going to go. I guess maybe he’s the other completely good character we meet, but he sure is a punching bag. He ends up the last man, sort of, standing, as he kills the final other person in self-defense, but not before getting stabbed, and he goes down and is out for the count.

Meanwhile, cut to Zhao Jing and Shen Shen drinking and gossiping at an inn on the way to Yueyang. Shenshen – Shenshen – continues to bemoan Chengling’s uselessness, and also talks about the torture the other Zhang family members underwent just in time for Chengling to overhear in the hallway, so thanks a lot for even more trauma, Shenshen. Zhao Jing is so sad about it all, y’all. He’s just so very very sad, can we just stop talking about it, Shenshen, because you’re making him sad, and he’s just going to let Da-ge figure it all out, OK? Uh-huh.

Fourth plot thread of the episode is ZZS skulking around, following Chengling, trying to convince himself that this kid is safe now that he’s turned himself in to gone to live with the 5LA, even as ZZS spots Tian Chuang spies in the ranks of the Yueyang disciples and among the dumpling vendors on the streets outside. ZZS follows the dumpling vendor, gives him a code phrase and almost gets his head taken off by a Scorpion blade for his trouble, before stabbing Dumpling Man in response. WKX picks this exact moment to wander back into ZZS’s orbit, taking the chance to flirt as Dumpling Man spits up blood and dies in the alleyway, because of course he does. WKX tsks, accuses ZZS of being cruel, and quotes some poetry about fair faces and poisonous hearts, which - like all of his poetry - has a double meaning, because which of them is he really talking about, ZZS or himself? ZZS notes that WKX is openly wearing the (Danyang) Glazed Armor because of course he’s looking for trouble, but WKX loosens his stays and clutches his pearls and replies that he couldn’t possibly be looking for trouble – him? Philanthropist Wen? He’s not a merciless killer like ZZS. Whereupon ZZS finally says out loud what he’s been clearly thinking since he started going on about what an awful person he is in the LAST EPISODE, which is why the hell don’t you stop following me around, then? There’s some more flirting, and WKX continues to follow ZZS around, and ZZS takes note that WKX is obviously flaunting the Glazed Armor out in the open, and then there’s a little sleight of hand when Famous Pickpocket Fan Bu Zhi, oh noes! Steals WKX’s Glazed Armor right off his belt when he isn’t even looking! before WKX continues to follow ZZS around, conveniently into the same inn where Cao Weining and A-Xiang are having lunch. After WKX attempts to chase him away, we discover Cao Weining has had his wallet stolen. WKX deploys his Sadness Eyebrows to convince ZZS to turn over his wallet to pay for Cao Weining’s and A-Xiang’s lunch. ZZS – who does an admirable job of refusing for a bit – finally caves, and WKX orders lunch for everyone, on ZZS. Now all we need is Chengling, because the fam is not complete without Goldbean.

#cao wening #gu xiang #han ying #liu qianqiao #beauty ghost #zhou zishu #wen kexing #word of honor #word of honor episode reax

29 notes · View notes

ectora · 4 years ago

Text

Review episode 312

It’s weird because I enjoyed the episode but most of my comments are actually criticism so bare with me 😂

Overall it was a nice episode to watch. The acting was on point especially for Sarah and Poppy imo they carried this episode but also probably cause they’re the one with the most compelling stories on this one. The episode kinda felt like a filler but honestly that’s because the show is focusing too much on the allergy and we know that’s not gonna be fixed til the end so as long as they make that the main story of the sisters, most episodes are gonna feel like fillers when it comes to them. Macy and Maggie had their own little adventure with a ghost which was funny (again kudo to Sarah), Harry and Mel went on a quest for a soul tho we still have no clue what it actually meant and Abigael was going through her own little traumatic hell in the tomb (Poppy really has been particularly slaying this storyline acting wise ).

Screen time

Abigael: 6m11s

Macy: 17m24s

Mel: 11m15s

Maggie: 18m24s

Harry: 11m03s

What I liked

Maggie still got the internship and I’m glad back she deserved it. I really don’t dislike Antonio but I’m also glad they kinda made it clear she wasn’t interested and that she finally made progress with her feelings for Jordan.

Abigael. I liked it because it gave us more insight on Abigael’s past (tho I still think they should have given us this earlier). I always theorised that from her childhood, she was obviously scared from the fact her mom never really accepted her demon side which created her deep feeling of rejection and how she was never accepted and never belonged. But I also thought she had some kind of loving family. Like to me these two things were not necessarily contradictory. Well apparently not. Her mom straight out abused her during her childhood. Which definitely explain why she choose the demon side like that. Both her parents were terrible to them but as she said in the past, at least she can understand demon a little but. She can rationalise it base on their nature. When it came from her mom however, it came fully from a place of dislike which must have been very harmful on a child. So obviously when I say I like it I don’t mean I like what her mom did to her, but I really like the insight and explanation. And again, Poppy did an amazing job. She made Abigael feel so vulnerable and scared, and confirmed that, ultimately what Abigael always wanted was acceptance. Which she first needs to give to herself.

Marisol and Macy sharing a scene. I have my issues with how it went which I’ll come to later. But I’m glad it existed and Mads really showed great emotions.

That was a short list because if I did enjoy the episode and there was some highlights I’ll talk about later, I also can’t really pintpoint things I loved.

What I disliked

Harry’s story. I just really don’t like how they make it all about the relationship when it could be so much deeper than that. I also am not sure I like the length to which he’s ready to go for it. Like the entire soul donation is a bit weird to me.

Marisol and Macy. Listen that one made me angry. Maybe it wouldn’t have if Macy actually had other stuff going on than her relationship with Harry but with the way the show has been writing her mostly around her relationship with Harry, it really didn’t come across well to me. The fact we had for the first time a in present tense scene between Macy and Marisol and all they talked about a man has me fuming. Maybe if they had had a longer time to talk. But they had like two minutes and most of it was about men.

The sisters. I don’t like the fact Mel wasn’t there when they were going to connect with their mom. I feel like that should have been a story kept for all three of them. I’m also annoyed that they once again refused to give us some Mel and Macy. I would have liked to see them a bit. Once again that sisterly bond feels like it’s non existent.

Melby. I cannot believe anyone would actually look at them and think yes that’s good. The treatment is absolutely terrible. The buildup was bad - because it was supposed to last - and the fact it’s all off screen is absolutely terrible. Ruby has been in three episode this season. One of them she didn’t actually share a scene with Ruby. The second episode they were full of drama and jealousy and they were so easily breaking up. And suddenly we jump to the I love yous. And were supposed to find that cute ? Like what are we supposed to think they love about each other? The constant breaking ups ? Cause that’s the most consistent thing about them. It kinda feels cheap in the way it’s done ngl.

What doesn’t make sense

Why was Jordan in the description ? I feel they’re kinda trying to avoid putting Abi’s name in the summaries (or at least it feels like it) but like .... Jordan had not reason to even be talked about. He didn’t appear once. It should have been Abi’s name in there.

The pills falling from the pocket Like ... Harry you had literally one job. How exactly did they fall ??

Why did they seem lost until their realised Jordy was a descendant and they could use his soul. Did I miss something saying it needed to be a male descendant ? Cause like ... Gil (Jil ? Idk) was literally right there. (Nevermind apparently I missed them saying « male descendent » my bad dkdjd

How did abi know she was in the tomb. Like I know my girl is smart but like ... she has basically no contact with the sisters at this point so how on earth did she learn how the tomb works and what happens inside ??

Highlights

The hammer. Listen, don’t ask me why but this picture of abi has been sending me for weeks now and I’ve been wondering the context since I’ve seen it. Like it gives me the biggest dumb bitch energy ever. The fact that abi is a very smart person and just thought a hammer would get her out of the tomb just has me laughing like it’s just too funny to me 😭

“The British hot lady” Swan I understand You

The way Maggie calls for Abi and gets into her apartment. I don’t know why I just love it.

Macy trying to lie to Antonio. Macy’s face when she lies is always a delight.

No but do any of these older generations know what not having an affair even mean? But I mean like father like son I guess.

« Who footnotes a spell » Macy’s face was so funny 😭 she was so done with it.

Theories

Not gonna lie. I’m a bit scare about next episode. I think it might be really interesting but also I’m very scare of the execution especially when it comes to Abigael and Macy. I do believe Macy has valid to distrust Abigael. However the show has been terrible at portraying those. And ultimately, especially lately, the sisters and Abigael have barely crossed paths. They’re barely in each other’s lives. All the do is coexist in the same city and interact when demons are involved which isn’t really the case. So right now all abi is doing is keeping the demons in lines. So I’m scared that Macy’s rightful dislike and distrust is almost gonna come across as pettiness or jealousy. But I also think that there is a difference between not trusting Abigael and say she deserves to be in the tomb. Cause at the end of the day past episode 4 what has she really done so terrible that deserves eternal suffering/delusion or whatever the tomb actually does. She’s manipulative and self serving sure but she also helps more than anything. The sisters have actually nothing to win have having Abigael stuck in there. And more to lose.

One theory is that the perfecti are trying to isolate the sisters. Putting abi and Jordan in the tomb is separating them from their allies and helping Harry to lose his powers is taking their guidance/healer away from them.

Another is just that really just have a very strict black and white vision and Abigael being a demon and Jordan helping them makes them automatically in the black category. Which the title seems to be referring to so it’s probably this.

I think the upcoming episode might be a way to introduce the whole controversy around Macy’s demon powers. And slowly bringing up the story of Abigael giving them back to her.

I think it also might be a way to actually have the show approach the wrongs Abigael did in the show. But also the rights. After all, it seems like they’ll need to prove she doesn’t deserve to be in it. Which I personally don’t think she does. Though she definitely did wrong things in her life. So I think they might actually use this as an occasion to have the sisters talk about what she did do that was wrong. And hopefully also highlight that she did help them on multiple occasions.

With the “previously in charmed” it makes it feel like they’re still going with Maggie not knowing Jordan can actually touch her and this doesn’t stop confusing me. But I can see the show have them hug once he’s out of the tomb and then kinda admit their feelings finally and Jordan say something in the lines that he kept it from her because he didn’t want to put pressure on her or that him being able to touch her didn’t change the fact she wanted to focus on herself or something on those lines.

One thing I want to talk about is Abigael. Please don’t read this paragraph if you haven’t heard about the rumours going around. //// The fact is, there is a very strong change Poppy is leaving the show. And the way they made this episode made it very clear Abigael was abused as a child. But that she is also absolutely craving love and acceptance. And that she does love her mom and always wanted her love. I’m very scared that if they make Abigael leave (better than die) they’d make her go back to her sister and family and try to fix their relationship. Which would absolutely be terrible message to give as we literally know now that she was abused. And making a character go back to their abusers because of the trauma it caused (her fear of rejection and inability to actually accept herself) would just be disgusting. But I’m scared that’s the road they’re gonna take.

#charmed #charmed cw #charmed reboot #charmed 2018 #charmed review #abigael caine #mel vera #maggie vera #macy vaughn #harry greenwood #jordan chase

16 notes · View notes

michaelgrayyy · 4 years ago

Text

One of us (8)

Michael Gray x Reader/ Peaky Blinders x Reader

Master list - https://michaelgrayyy.tumblr.com/masterlist

Aberama hangs out on the side of the car as we near our destination, the further into the countryside the more Michael seemed to sulk. You keep looking over at him feeling his eyes on you as you sit beside Bonnie facing him while Bonnie faces Polly. Polly gets out first followed by Bonnie, who turns to help you down and then you turn back to help Michael but decide against it seeing his expression. You step out onto the woodland floor looking around, it made you miss your cottage, you hoped you’d be able to get back there when this was over, whenever that was.

“No! No, fucking way” you hear Michael complain from behind you and Polly meets your eyes, you stifle a giggle quickly covering your mouth and keeping your back to him.

“You ever eaten Hedgehog Michael?” Aberama asks seeing his reaction and you can’t contain the giggle that leaves you. You look back at Michael who sends you a glare before carrying on.

“I’m getting back in this car” he states pulling a cigarette out to smoke

“Michael, you’re number two on Luca Changretta’s hit list” she looks at me. “Well maybe three” she debates before carrying on.

“Yeah and I’ll stay in a hotel, we’ll stay in a hotel right, y/n?” he says trying to get you to side with him but you just raise your hands showing him you aren’t getting involved.

“You stay in a hotel, I’ll know where you are, so will the people who take you there, so will the people who work in the hotel, and hotels don’t move around. They don’t even know where they’ll be tomorrow, they follow the Patrin and the crows.” Polly argues back to him, silencing him. He knows she's right he just hates to admit it.

“And should anyone come for you, Michael, the Palmers and the Boswells will put up a fair fight” Aberama adds as Polly gets Michael medicine.

“Why are they talking as if you aren't coming with me, y/n?” he asks with a clenched jaw. Oh boy!

“I’ve got unfinished business with the Italians”

“And I don’t?” he snaps back instantly pissing you off.

“Right now, you don't.” you reply as Polly continues to go through his medicine looking between you both.

“Your painkiller..” Polly says passing them to Bonnie.

“The healers up there, will heal you much quicker”

“It's true, pretty sure I’d be dead without them healing me after getting me from Luca” I add trying to reassure him but Michael just looks over at you annoyed.

“Fucking witches, the lot of them” Michael grumbles earning a chuckle of Aberama who shakes his head at him.

“Show some respect, Mr. Gray. They’ve agreed to welcome you on account of your blood” Bonnie replies to him, you shake you head at Michael as he glares back at Bonnie not responding. You walk away getting yourself in the carriage, with the help of the men at the steps, having heard enough of Michaels complaining. Soon Bonnie joins you and not long after Michael joins you as well, you blow a kiss to Polly as the door shuts and she smirks.

“Will you quit sulking. These people are risking their lives to protect you” you break the silence after so long having had enough of his moping. Bonnie looks over before quickly looking back out the window guessing this is heading for an argument.

“Why are you coming with us if you aren’t staying?” he asks changing the subject.

“Because I thought you’d help you settle in, clearly that was poor judgment on my behalf.” you reply

“How are you going to get back to Small Heath?”

“Bonnie has a boxing match tonight, I’m going” you reply and Michael starts to work his jaw again so you turn the conversation to Bonnie. “You ready for your fight?” you call out to Bonnie who walks back over to sit down with you both.

“Sure am” he replies.

“Have you met Goliath yet?” he nods with a smirk. “Are you worth betting on?”

“Mr. Shelby seems to think so” he replies.

“Honestly, I can’t tell if Tommy is a genius or mad” you state. “But, I reckon you’re a good bet”

It's not long till the cart is pulled up and Bonnie opens the door, telling you that you’ll need to start making a move back to Small Heath in an hour before he walks off to help the others set up their camp. This is only a temporary camp until they make it to their main base, a part of you felt a bit gutted you wouldn’t get to see it but you needed to get back. You turn round motioning for Michael to come with you as you step outside, he reluctantly follows you both walk over to a fallen tree. He sits down and you slowly lower yourself next to him closing your eyes as you do.

“Still bad isn't it?” he asks watching your movements.

“I’ve had more fun” you respond. “Look, Michael I know you aren’t happy about this. But, please try and be nice to them, they are part of your heritage whether you like it or not and they are good people. This is better than you being shot again...we’ve already lost John” you plead with him and he softens ever so slightly before sighing.

“Alright, alright. I'll try, but I don’t like this.” he agrees mostly just trying to shut me up but I'll take it. “You and Gold’s son are awfully friendly” he tries to sound nonchalantly about it but fails miserably.

“He did save my life by getting me away from Luca, that's a good way to become my friend in my book.” you reply with a shrug before looking at him as he looks ahead of him with a hard expression. “Are you jealous?” you ask with a smirk.

“It was just a question, y/n” he replies in a clipped tone and your smirk grows into a cocky smile.

“You are!” you exclaim with a little laugh.

“I’m just being cautious is all, not like you who just befriends anyone and everyone” he replies and your smile fades.

“Is there a reason you are trying to provoke an argument every-time you speak to me?” you question running out of patience with his mood. He doesn’t respond just pulls out a cigarette to smoke, he takes a drag before you reach over taking it from his lips and taking a drag yourself. You both let out a sigh as a peaceful quiet settles amongst you both.

“As much as I hate to admit it, I do miss the fresh air” he says breathing in and you laugh watching him puff on the cigarette.

“What were your family like?” you ask him and he pauses before realising you are talking about his adopted family. That’s how you pass the time until you need to leave, Michael tells you about climbing trees and playing games with his little brother, about the pies and cakes his mum would make and how he used to help his father around the house doing jobs like cutting logs and fixing up the sheds. You smile as he talks not seeing this side of him before, part of you wishes he never came back to Polly so he could still be there but then you remember the stories of him blowing up the village wishing well and the priest and you know he would have come sooner or later.

Bonnie walks over to tell you its time to leave and you nod at him as he stands away so you can speak privately to Michael again, you lean over placing a kiss to him lips, you pull away looking him in the eyes with a serious glare.

“You stay alive, alright” you tell him

“You too, no running at guns or getting kidnapped. Deal?” he replies and you roll your eyes with a smirk.

“Deal” you agree as he kisses you quickly again before you get up off the tree walking over to join Bonnie. “Ready” you tell him as he nods.

“We’ve got a short walk until we get to where my father is picking us up, is that okay?” he asks looking at me apologetically.

“That’s okay” you reply walking alongside him, feeling better for the fresh air.

///////

Its a few hours later when you walk down the stairs wearing a emerald sparkling dress alongside, Polly, Linda and Lizzie ready for the big fight, Ada also joins as you go try find Finn in the crowd, you try to spot Tommy but he’s nowhere in sight. Looking back where the girls were you see they've also all moved, great, at least you know they’ll be in the toilet as you head that way. You walk in to see Linda setting out a line beside Polly and Ada at the sinks, while Lizzie is across the other side.

“Ah, good. Y/n, we’ve been looking for you, Lizzie’s got some news” Polly greets you as you walk in, Ada turns seeing you and smiles brightly at you before noticing your pained movements.

“I’m pregnant” Lizzie announces.

“Oh, and who’s the father? Have you managed to narrow it down?” Linda comments before taking a line of snow at the same time you let out a little squeal walking over to Ada to give her a hug not being able to resist. She grins at you carefully hugging you back as she raises her eyebrows at you at Linda’s comment.

“Yes. It's Tommy’s” Lizzie responds and you notice a glass of gin on the counter taking a swig.

“Congratulations. You’ve won the raffle at last” Linda remarks and you ignore her going over to give Lizzie a hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Congratulations, Lizzie” you say sincerely as Linda rolls her eyes you just glare back at her. Lizzie, Linda and Polly head back in as you stay behind with Ada, she sits on the counter as she asks how you are not having seen you since you were taken by the Italians.

“It makes you tougher” she says and you nod

“It’s the only thing it can do in this line of life” you reply as she agrees, you pull out a hip-flask of whisky passing it her after you take a swig. She fixes the rest of her make up before heading back out the door, you stay behind gathering yourself, just enjoying the peace and quiet before you have to go anywhere. Taking some of your painkillers alongside the whisky, walking outside ready to carry on watching the fight when you hear a gunshot followed by Tommy yelling in the hallway not far from you. You head off in the direction rushing not caring about the pain in your ribs, you round the corner seeing Polly up ahead being held by Tommy. He looks up noticing you and they both turn.

“What? what's going on?” you manage to say

“Arthurs dead. He’s dead” Tommy says coming over to you

“What no, he's not. Stop this” you say trying to shove past him “HE’S NOT” you yell out trying to hit out to get him away from you. He hold onto you until you stop fighting him, you push back from him walking back. He follows after you.

“Polly, go tell Linda” he shouts back rushing behind you as you run through the halls. “We need to tell Finn” you call out to him before trying to weave your way through the crowd, its not use everyone is jumping around excited about the win in the ring, Tommy grabs onto you pulling you with him over to Finn. Finn smiles at you both patting Tommy on the back for his win, but Tommy grabs onto him pulling him close to whisper to him, you see his face drop as Tommy pushes him away towards Isiah. Tommy goes over to tell Lizzie before disappearing off again and you try get over to Charlie (old) in the ring beside Aberama and Bonnie but the crowd is too lively. Charlie see’s you struggling through the crowd and jumps out to come help you get through, he gets you to the side of the ring and you look over seeing Polly and Lizzie with a sobbing Linda.

“Arthur’s dead” you say to Charlie who looks at you in confusion before Tommy jumps up into the ring firing a gun in the air. He tells the crowd Arthur is dead before crouching down as he takes a breath, Charlie quickly rushes over up into the ring and you walk over to the girls, Lizzie stands up pulling you into a hug.

///

The next few days pass by in a blur you find yourself permanently glued to the bar stool in the Garrison, joined mostly by Finn and Isiah. It’s not like your usual drinks where they’d try and pick up girls while you’d dodge the advances of men that didn't realise who you were, no this was just drinking with the intent of numbing it all. You don’t remember how but you some how end up sat in the family home beside a silent Tommy, Ada and Polly waiting for Michael’s arrival. You’re heart breaks even more when they tell you the plan, but you nod having guessed bits off it all along, but not wanting to believe it.You hear him walk in the door and see Polly walk over to greet him but you don’t move, just sat swirling the cup of Tea Ada made you. Micheal walks over to you squeezing your shoulder in comfort as he looks to Tommy.

“Tommy, I’ve been trying to find the words” Michael says and you get up walking over to the drinks section.

“Don’t. Words don’t work” Polly cuts him off as you pour a glass of whisky. “Micheal we’re in a grave situation. But, Tommy has a plan. Instead of going to Australia you're going to go to New York.”

“Why?” he asks in shock

“Because the company has business to attend to in America” Ada responds, Michael looks over at you and then to Tommy, the only two not to speak to him yet.

“Will I be coming back?”

“You’re train leaves in an hour Michael.” Tommy breaks the silence. “You made a choice. You knew I was going to be shot and you chose not to tell me” Michael looks over to Polly.

“I chose my mum” he responds.

“When all this business is over, we’ll all be free to make our own choices” Polly says to him with tears in her eyes, you wipe away some of your own that have managed to slip.

“So is that it?” Michael asks looking at the back of Tommy.

“You get the train to Liverpool then the SS Monroe. The boat sails tomorrow.” He passes him the tickets “Now you can go”.

“Y/n?” he looks over at you and you bite your lip.

“Please just go” you plead wiping some more tears. “Please” you croak out and he closes his eyes in regret before turning to leave.

#michael gray #michael gray x reader #Michael Gray imagine #Michael Shelby #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder x reader #Tommy Shelby

31 notes · View notes

echoeternally · 3 years ago

Text

Mini Gift

It’s @mrnerdling‘s birthday, and I wrote up a longer story for the day. However, I also wanted to write a small thing based on another suggested pairing! So, I did, and it’s sloppy, but I tried to cram it in within like...I dunno, four hours between research and writing.

Anyway, I know extremely little about Pokémon Unite, so it’s going to be rather choppy and probably have nothing to do with the game. (I didn’t even include evolutions because that hurt my brain to consider evolving back and forth, which I think they do in Digimon, but not Pokémon.) But, hey, it was worth a shot, and I experimented.

Just a cute fic to feature some ship teasing that he should enjoy. And I hope you do too!

...

Four trainers joined together at the Aeos Island team rooms. While they carried on discussing strategies for their upcoming practice, they sent out their current selected Pokémon, allowing them to gather together while their trainers continued planning.

Lucario folded his arms and surveyed his team, noting his usual companions in Cinderace and Slowbro. He tilted his head at the appearance of Blissey, a newcomer to the team and the island overall.

“Huh, first of our team newcomers.” Lucario nodded. “Welcome aboard, Blissey! My trainer is the team captain, so I try my best to reflect her efforts.”

“Oh, thanks for the welcome!” Blissey bowed her head and smiled. “It’s going to be fun getting to join everyone.” She blinked and blankly stared at the group. “To be honest though, I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.”

“Me neither,” mumbled Slowbro.

“But…you’re already on this team.”

“…I am?”

“Don’t worry, Slowbro’ll come to life in a little while.” Cinderace rubbed his nose and smirked to Blissey. “Name’s Cinderace, and I’m part of this team too. Our trainers tried to match the variety in roles among Pokémon for this island.” He pointed at the egg in Blissey’s hands. “You’re a healer, right?”

“Normally, yes.”

“Right, so there are a few different types of roles for each of us,” went over Lucario. “Since you have a focus on healing, that makes you our team’s new Support member. Slowbro can make strong blocks, so he’s our team Defender.” He pointed at Cinderace. “Since he’s fiery and likes to battle, Cinderace is our Attacker.” Lucario rubbed behind his head. “We’re supposed to have someone that’s quick around the field, who is the team Speedster. I suppose you’ll meet him later.” Lucario shrugged. “As someone that tries to cover multiple roles in one, I do my best to be the All-Around type on our team.”

“Wow.” Blissey brightly smiled. “This already sounds complicated. I love it!”

“It takes a bit, but you’ll get into it after a few rounds,” offered Cinderace. “Since we’re just practicing today, though, I don’t imagine it’ll be too rough on you.” He stretched and winked to her. “Basically, we just need to worry about scoring more points than the other team, and that’s the idea of the game.”

“Each role helps determine how well we perform,” brought up Lucario. “So, with that, we’ll let the rest get resolved on the field.”

“Ooh, my trainer is calling me over that way,” pointed out Blissey. “What do we do by the benches?”

“…Wait for your turn to practice, I guess,” determined Cinderace, glancing at Lucario who shrugged.

“Neat!” Blissey wandered off from the group. “I still don’t get any of this!”

“Well, waiting won’t help much,” mumbled Cinderace. “…Huh. Hey, Slowbro, they’re calling you over too.”

“…Who?”

“Your trainer, knucklehead.”

“Oh, ok.” Slowbro blinked and then slowly waddled down the same direction that Blissey had gone in.

“Guess they want to focus on offensive plays first,” suggested Cinderace. “If those two are sitting on the sidelines, that means it’s you, me, and whoever the newbie is when they get jump in.”

“That makes sense, since we’ll need to learn covering the field.” Lucario tapped on his chin and nodded. “Ok, so, practices today are mostly relying on us getting Aeos Energy to score points. If we’re doing some offense training to start, that’s the main goal to focus on.”

“Are we just going on the field as is?”

“Yep, going right into it.”

“Huh, should be fun.” Cinderace grinned and lifted a thumb up to Lucario. “Want to see who can score the most points between us two? New guy will probably figure it out and join in.”

“We do need to work on strategies too.”

“Where’s the fun if we’re only working and not bringing out the best of each other?” Cinderace slid closer to Lucario, patting his head and nudging him. “Come on, huh? Let’s have some fun with this!”

“Well…it is technically part of our exercises, tallying high scores—”

“Aha, knew you’d see it my way!”

“Just don’t get too carried away,” requested Lucario. He frowned and looked over as Blissey tried talking with Slowbro, who vacantly stared off around the meeting room. “Last time, you knocked Slowbro too hard on the head, and now he seems like he’s back to basics.” Lucario lowered his eyes as he watched Slowbro drool, while Blissey chattered on. “…Or worse, actually.”

“Coach, you’re thinking way too hard.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? You basically are!” Cinderace jogged in place, getting his feet warmed up. “Going to roll some heads on the field and get the highest scores like you wouldn’t believe!”

“Do you ever turn over the competitor in you?”

“Nope!”

“Well, that does help us.” Lucario shrugged and smiled. “Come on, let’s get ourselves ready.”

“You’re so cute when you’ve got a big work ethic going,” teased Cinderace, leaning over Lucario’s head.

“Get off.”

“Make me.”

After chasing his teammate to the practice field, Lucario lined up with Cinderace at the starting gate. Their trainers readied their supply of Aeos Island balls, ready to capture the wild Pokémon that their partners battled against. The two trainers were joined by a third, who hurriedly sent their choice to the field as they set the practice timer.

However, the purple gates opened, and Lucario raced off alongside Cinderace.

“Try to keep up, Luca!”

“Don’t call me that either!”

Laughing, Cinderace hurried up the northern route, while Lucario traveled down the southern side. Kicking streams of fire and sliding past his opponents, Cinderace swept at the wild Aipom and Audino. His trainer from the sidelines collected Aeos Energy from the capture.

“Nice and easy,” cheered Cinderace. “They better get that Speedster straight to work to catch up with me!”

“Might as well, you’re right!”

Blinking and halting from the new voice, Cinderace turned around as a yellow blur rushed past him. A loud clap rang out, as lightning bolts danced through the air and zapped at the wild Pokémon nearby.

The striker rabbit watched as the blur raced around, snatching more Aeos Energy before running for a hoop. Jumping up, the thunderclap cat slammed in a ball of energy, scoring points for the corresponding trainer.

Setting down, Cinderace gawked as the cat beamed to him.

“Hey there, sorry for the interruption introduction,” called the newcomer. “I’m Zeraora, and I’m your team’s latest Speedster!” He swiped below his nose. “Heard that we’re having a little contest of our own, so I hope you don’t mind me joining in.”

Slowly nodding, Cinderace looked the yellow cat up and down, impressed at just the sight alone. Watching him run around once again, Cinderace flailed around, trying to attack the wild Pokémon to score more energy.

However, Zeraora’s speed helped him collect bits of energy from the ground and take down emerging Pokémon faster than Cinderace could keep up with.

Knocking enough energy into the goal, Zeraora grinned as it faded, and spun around to Cinderace, winking to him.

“Check it out! We scored a load of points on this one.” He waved. “Come on, cutie, let’s see if you can keep up!”

“Wow, I think this is how I sound to Lucario,” mumbled the flushed face Cinderace. “…Why doesn’t he like me even more?”

Both rushed to the next goal, knocking more energy into it. Lucario had chased an evasive Audino over, and was able to help his trainer capture them for Aeos Energy. Once that was done, however, Lucario gawked as Zeraora raced past him, jumping up and slamming more energy into the nearby goal.

“Wait, what?” Lucario fumbled back and stared up at the cat hanging from the hoop. “Are you the new speedster?”

“Nice, you’re the team captain!” Zeraora grinned. “They told me you’d be handsome, and they weren’t kidding!” He dropped down and ran for the next wild Pokémon. “Come on, little guy! Let’s see if you can keep up with me!”

“…He’s like Cinderace, but worse,” muttered Lucario as he blushed.

As they continued scoring points, practice time ticked away and ran out. Checking over the final scores, Lucario gawked at how high Zeraora’s score was, in spite his late start. Cinderace had scored the lowest, which was quite unusual for him. Turning for the rabbit, Lucario raised an eyebrow, as Cinderace shrugged and gazed back to Zeraora, beaming from his results.

“Ha, check it out!” Zeraora placed a hand on his hip. “Didn’t think I’d score so high, but you guys made competing pretty fun. I think we’ll make a strong combination!” He winked to his teammates and wandered toward the exit. “I wonder who else is on this team? I think they were both pink…”

“Well…at least he’s fast,” decided Lucario.

“He’s amazing, and I have to know more,” rambled off Cinderace.

“Look in the mirror.”

“He’s even better than me!”

“That’s not what I—”

“Best newbie ever!” Cinderace hurried after him. “Hey, Zera! Tell me more about yourself! Like, everything!”

Rolling his eyes, Lucario slapped a paw over his head and dragged it down. Sighing, he followed his teammates out from the first practice field, looking to join them for the next session.

Though Zeraora enjoyed chatting with Cinderace, he would steal glances to Lucario and grin to him, making the captain blush.

This was certainly going to be a new dynamic for them.

...

Whoosh, there it is!

Yeah, I did my best while hurrying it along. This wasn’t the original gift idea, but I wanted to include both ideas sent to me.

Since I normally write like medieval Pokémon, or otherwise normal stuff where they battle and such, I decided to try following another game, and went with one that all three leads appear in, which was the latest game.

Even though I’ve never touched it, so maybe that wasn’t the best idea, but oh well! That’s what research is for. (Also, there’s other stuff that I didn’t get to touch on about Unite, but alas.)

If I had more time, I’d probably write more, but this is it for this one. Hope you enjoyed the quick bit!

#pokemon unite #pokemon fanfic #cinderace #zeraora #lucario #birthday gift #one-shot #scribble #ship tease

3 notes · View notes

miyuki-scourgeofthefirenation · 5 years ago

Text

Bop to the Top

Oh boy what have I done? I wrote fanfic, that’s what I done. Basically, I was just chilling, minding my business, when I came across this YouTube video:

youtube

I then had an idea for a fanfic that would not let me go until I wrote it. So I wrote it. Please be nice, this is my first time writing fanfic ever. It also became longer than I anticipated so here it is in all its unedited glory. Enjoy! Story begins under the cut, because yikes, why is this over 2000 words?!?

(Set roughly five years after the end of the war. Zuko brought in a special team to help with Azula and her situation, because Zuko is a sweet boy who still loves his sister and wants her to be okay. The comics? I don’t know her.)

Sokka was spending a perfectly pleasant afternoon strolling around the gardens at the palace when he was unexpectedly tackled by someone sneaking up on him. Actually, make that two someones sneaking up on him.

“Ooof,” he grunts as his body makes contact with the ground. Any hope he might have had for regaining his breath is dashed when the two someones who tackled him promptly fall right on top of him as well.

“Sokka!” a giddy voice shouts, followed by peals of laughter. Sokka opens his eyes to find himself face to face with a chirping lemur. The pressure on his back disappears as his two attackers stand up.

“Sorry, sorry!” another voice rings out, reaching down to help Sokka to his feet. “We were just so excited to surprise you!” Sokka turns around to see his sister Katara, and Aang standing there.

“Guess we got a little carried away!” Aang adds with a sheepish tone in his voice that somehow doesn’t match up with the light in his eyes or wide grin on his face. Sokka doesn’t say anything, just reaches out to scoop Katara and Aang into a hug as Momo scurries up to perch on his shoulder.

“I had no idea you were coming for a visit,” Sokka says, releasing the others from the hug after a few moments.

“It was a last minute decision,” Katara explains. “We were charting our course to the next destination on our itinerary, and realized that it wasn’t that far out of our way to stop by here en route. Thought it would be nice to come see you and Zuko for a day or two.”

“And I thought ‘What would be more fun than making this visit?’ Making this a ‘Surprise visit!’” Aang crowed happily. “Hope that’s okay,” he said then, a bit more tentatively, as if it was just occurring to him that maybe advance warning of their arrival would have been a good thing.

“Of course it is!” Sokka beams, “You know I’m always excited to get to see you two!” A slightly angry chirp comes from the direction of his shoulder. “And you too Momo. I couldn’t forget about my favorite flying lemur.”

It is at this moment that two palace guards come running up to the group out of breath. “Master Sokka,” one pants, “Your sister and the Avatar have arrived unexpectedly and wish to see you immediately.”

Sokka exchanges a brief look with Aang and Katara at this obvious statement, but decides not to comment on it out loud.

“We apologize for not leading them here for a proper greeting,” the other guard says, looking somewhat miffed as well as quite sweaty. “But…” He trails off looking at the two visitors, neatly conveying the hesitance of the guards to attempt to stop the waterbending master and Avatar from going anywhere they might want.

“That’s quite alright,” Sokka states, addressing the red-faced guards. “If you could please see to it that appropriate arrangements are made for my sister and Aang to stay here for the next few days. Thank you.” With that the two guards make their bows to the group and depart.

Katara and Aang loop their arms through Sokka’s as they begin to walk towards the far end of the garden. “So,” Katara begins, “how have you been? How’s that Fire Lord fiancé of yours?”

Sokka grins at this. “I’m good, he’s good. Been keeping busy with Ambassador duties, and Fire Lord duties for him. There have been a couple of small uprising plans discovered recently, but nothing like the turmoil of the early days…” he said trailing off. He still didn’t like to remember those difficult months after Zuko assumed the throne, which featured a steady influx of plots to remove him from power and resume the war. Based on the looks on Katara and Aang’s faces, they didn’t like this reminder either. The three quickly shook themselves out of their momentary gloom, focusing back on the present. “I know he’ll want to see you as well, he’ll be so thrilled you’re here!”

“Where is he?” Aang questions.

“He’s spending some time with Azula,” Sokka explains. “She’s been doing really well recently,” he adds after seeing the dubious expressions on their faces. “Ever since we got those new healers in and the new chambers in the hospital wing set up specially for her she’s been showing a lot of improvement. Way fewer rants about taking back her rightful place as Fire Lord!” Katara and Aang still don’t look convinced, and he supposes he can’t blame them for that. If he didn’t live here and see the daily workings of the situation he probably wouldn’t believe it either. “It’s just about time for Zuko to be finishing up with his visit to her,” Sokka says somewhat hastily, eager to move past this particular subject. “I’ll go over and get him, let him know you’re here. Then we can all have dinner together, properly catch up.”

“Great!” Aang exclaims. “Me and Katara should go see about getting Appa settled in, he can be very picky about how he wants things you know!” Katara gave a slight roll of her eyes as Aang bounded off with Momo flying behind him.

“We’ll see you at dinner!” she calls with a wave as she follows her boyfriend. Sokka smiles at their retreating backs. He’s so happy that they’re here, and he knows Zuko will be as well. With that thought in mind he heads off for the hospital wing of the palace.

As he rounds the corner leading to Azula’s chambers he hears something extremely unexpected. Typical noises that can be found in the hallway are soft talking, loud screams about Azula finally breaking free and reclaiming her place, tears, or silence. This is none of those things. This seems to be… music? Sokka is confused, and quietly pushes open the door to the room. He learned the hard way that making his presence known immediately was not necessarily a smart idea. Who knew a hairbrush could be such a powerful projectile weapon?

Sokka instantly freezes at the sight that meets his eyes. Zuko and Azula are in the center of the room and they seem to be doing some sort of… choreographed dance routine? There is an entirely unnecessary amount of jazz hands and shimmying that seems to be happening and Sokka is absolutely thrilled. He breaks out into an unbelieving and slightly wicked smile. This is good, this is just the sort of low level embarrassing incident he can use to tease Zuko for ages. The two dancing firebenders haven’t yet noticed Sokka’s presence, they’re too focused on the dance. The song continues to play in the background, something about bopping and glory. Sokka isn’t paying close attention to the words of the song, the sight in front of him is far more entertaining and deserves his full attention. The song comes to an end, and Zuko and Azula make their grand finale on a ladder (where did they get a ladder from? Sokka muses briefly). It is only then that Sokka makes his presence known, by beginning to clap. He knew that they would instantly stop dancing if they were aware of him earlier, and he was not about to sacrifice seeing this for anything. The two whirl around at the sound of his clapping, as well as the muffled laughter he’s been holding in this entire time and is starting to lose control of.

Zuko flushes red. “How long have you been standing there?” he asks, a slightly panicked look in his eyes. He knows his fiancé, and he knows full well the amount of teasing he can expect to get from this sort of situation. At this point he can only hope for the damage to be minimal, and that Sokka didn’t see too much of the routine. He knows he’s lost when he sees the evil gleam in Sokka’s eyes.

“Oh,” Sokka laughs, “I’m pretty sure I caught most of that, and let me say I am very happy I did. When can we expect to see performances of it in the theaters around town? Personally, I think all Fire Nation citizens should have a chance to witness that. It would probably be very good for morale.” He crosses his arms and grins at the siblings, who have since come down off of the ladder. Surprisingly Azula hasn’t said anything yet, and has kept her face aimed downwards towards the floor. Both Sokka and Zuko dart their gaze to her, somewhat nervously gauging her reaction.

She looks up abruptly, her gaze moving back and forth between the two. A small smile spread across her lips. “What do you think Zuzu? A couple more months of practice before our grand debut?” Zuko looks shocked for a minute before getting his expression back under control. She turns to Sokka. “You know,” she drawls to him, “I could be ready to perform for the masses tomorrow, but you know Zuzu, he’s not as fast a learner as I am. He needs more time to practice, and I refuse to perform if the routine is not perfected! But, alas, it is now time for dinner, and so perfection shall have to wait another day at least. We can pick up with practice again another day Zuzu,” she states imperiously, laying a hand on his arm as she walks into the small dining area off of the main room. When she gets to the doorway she turns her head slightly to look at him. “Thank you,” she murmurs softly, “I had fun.” Then she sweeps into the other room and out of their sight.

Wordlessly, Zuko and Sokka exit her chambers and begin walking back towards the main part of the palace. “Wow,” Zuko mutters.

“I know,” Sokka says, “She was actually… nice for once. Glad to see the new environment and healers are helping her so much.”

“Me too,” Zuko says quietly, lost in his own thoughts.

“And you,” Sokka blurts out. Zuko looks up at him questioningly. “You’re really helping her too. Clearly,” Sokka rambles. “She seems to be coming around to trusting you a lot more. I know that’s important to you.”

Zuko smiles a bit at that. “Yeah, yeah it is.”

“Sooooooo, about that dance….” Sokka grins at him

“Oh no. No, no, no,” Zuko whines. “I just had a major breakthrough with my sister, can’t I get a pass on the mocking for once?”

Sokka looks vaguely affronted. “Do you know me at all? I am very happy about the whole ‘Breakthrough with formerly evil sister thing,’ but if you think you’re gonna be able to get out of this on the strength of that alone…” he scoffs. “That dance routine is the best material that has fallen into my lap in years, there’s no way I’m about to pass it up!”

Zuko groans affectionately, he knew that was gonna be the answer, and despite his embarrassment he can’t find it in himself to be too upset. He goodnaturedly puts up with Sokka’s shrieking about it as they begin to make their way to dinner. He’s only half paying attention when Sokka says “Oh man, Katara and Aang are gonna love this! Dinner just got so much better!” That snaps Zuko out of his trance right away.

“What do you mean ‘Katara’ and ‘Aang’ and ‘Dinner’?” He demands.

“Oh,” Sokka says slyly, looking at him out of the corner of his eye, “Did I forget to mention? Katara and Aang have dropped in for a surprise visit. We’re headed to dinner with them right now. And trust me, this story, is gonna be the highlight of the evening!” With that Sokka gives him a quick kiss on the cheek, flashes a wicked grin and runs away down the hall and into the dining room. Zuko huffs indignantly, realizing Sokka had run away before he had a chance to respond. Grumbling, but still smiling slightly, he follows his fiancé into the dining room, looking forward to seeing his friends.

#avatar the last airbender #atla #sokka #zuko #zukka #azula #aang #katara #kataang #momo #appa #high school musical #bop to the top #fanfiction #me? writing a 2000 word fanfic over a 1 minute video?#it's more likely than you think

84 notes · View notes