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vii0so · 2 months ago

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[BSD 120] Theory/Analysis

These are my first thoughts on parts of chapter 120. It includes my personal interpretations and theories of certain things.

Warning: Spoilers ahead

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1. Akutagawa & "True strength"

In my previous theory, I believed Rashoumon was in control of Aku's body (hence the old speech and clothing choice).

In BSD, abilities are the soul. "True strength" and "within yourself" could point to Rashoumon.

It could be that Akutagawa has inherited the purpose of his ability (Rashoumon). Therefore unlocking its full potential and or memories. Hence the drastic change that Atsushi sees.

The "purpose" stuff was another thing I briefly mentioned in my previous theory. In short: Purpose = job (e.g. the bookmark)

"This blade serves the heavens"

This blade = "I" (Akutagawa/Rashoumon)

The heavens = probably "the book"

"This soul follows the path of righteousness"

This soul = Rashoumon

This would mean: Rashoumon is righteous.

"The path of the knight"

Knight = Protector/Defender

This could mean Rashoumon is the book's protector.

So his purpose could be the book's "Knight", just like Atsushi is the book's "Bookmark".

If we want to say it in book terms, it'd be the book's cover.

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"Idea. Will. All are empty."

This is directed at Akutagawa. Saying that he has no individual thoughts or will, he is just an empty shell.

I believe this can be seen as saying "You're a puppet."

This could mean that the current Akutagawa is like this because his role as the "knight" is needed (A god-level threat to the book has appeared and needs to be dealt with).

Meaning, it could very well be his soul's (Rashoumon's) purpose (the knight) has taken control. Making him a puppet with the only thing moving him being his purpose.

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2. The higher dimension

First off: If we think of the real world where we are, then the BSD universe would be a "lower dimension" to us.

In BSD, the book can change/shape their world and therefore is part of the "higher dimension"

Basically, anything that doesn't follow the law of abilities and/or our everyday normal earth standards, can be considered as a higher dimensional being/thing.

As Fyodor explained: Stabbing a page will "kill" the character drawn on it. No matter how OP they are, they will never be able to perceive our dimension (reality) and therefore will not be able to stop it.

To make it easier: An author can write a story where the mc faces an enemy and dies. The author controlled the story/fate of the mc. The mc would never be able to stop that from happening.

...Actually this example would be closer to what the book does...they are a similar plane of existence but not the same. Fyodor's example is better for Ame-no-Gozen though.

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Let's think of it the other way around to better explain:

In short: if you were to write/draw a character, that character would never directly be able to harm you or interact with you. That's because we're in a higher dimensional plane of existence.

Stories may just be fiction to us but to the characters they are real, just like life for us is real.

When a character becomes aware that there is a higher dimension/they are in a story, they still can't physically/directly interact with our world. The most they can do, is "break the 4th wall" and indirectly interact with the audience (e.g. talking to/looking at the camera/us).

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Random:

The book is a higher plane of existence than anything in the BSD universe. Hence why anything written in it becomes the truth.

Ame-no-Gozen is a lower dimension than the book.

Therefore, if someone wrote Ame-no-Gozen out of existence in the book, it would be considered true and he'd be gone.

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3. Fyodor's Plane

This entire "plane to board" thing has had me worried since the previous chapter.

I know they want us to think of this:

But it still feels odd. He gets on that, becomes undetectable. Is that what he's really planning to do though?

He says it's not his concern (whether they live or die) but it seems like a definite lie. In one way or another, it matters.

He seems to be in a hurry. It doesn't seem fake, in actuality it seems like he's trying to hide how urgently he needs to leave.

He completely dropped the whole "Dazai wasn't it so I'll just take Atsushi" and switched to "I don't care whether any of you die".

Honestly, he probably decided to drop the "other half" stuff when he realised Atsushi didn't have the same thoughts as the tiger.

And the "idc what happens to you lol" is more like "I need to leave quickly so let's stop here" which shows urgency.

Which means, Fyodor has somewhere to be...and fast.

Okay, this next theory is a long shot even for me, but what if he needs to get to Sigma before he wakes up?

Don't ask me why, I'm not sure. But it sure is something to think about. It's time-sensitive and we're aware that Sigma hasn't woken up yet. It seems to fall into place with the urgency.

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4. Fukuzawa's Survival

This seems like a challenge to battle but Fukuzawa knew there was no way of fighting Ame-no-Gozen. So who is he challenging?

Fyodor.

Yep, Fukuzawa will fight Fyodor...

All the people (including me) that believed Fukuzawa will die at some point in the story, might be right after this battle.

Why does he say it like that?

And why does he look like he hesitated?

I checked the Japanese and it's: 特には (toku-ni-ha)

Which means:

Note: The "ha" (pronounced "wa") is a particle.

Fyodor, what do you mean?! Is it that you care about his survival "in particular" or "not particularly"? (...I should just leave this to those who are fluent in Japanese. I'm overcomplicating stuff again.)

Anyway, I feel like there's more to this than what we're seeing (Or maybe I just forgot something...)

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5. Where's Rampo?

...no, seriously, where is he during all this?

He's probably doing stuff in the background to help fix this situation but we haven't even seen a glimpse of him since Fyodor came back.

Maybe we'll see him during the Fyodor vs Fukuzawa fight.

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██████████ Completed!

TLDR:

Akutagawa is basically Rashoumon right now.

Akutagawa is the book's "cover" (protector/knight)

Higher & lower dimension = Pretty much the same difference between us and any character in BSD.

Fyodor may need to get to Sigma before he wakes up. Hence the urgency to leave the fight.

Fukuzawa might die fighting Fyodor.

#bsd #bsd spoilers #bsd akutagawa #bsd manga #bsd theories #bsd analysis #bsd fyodor #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd fukuzawa #bsd 120 #bsd thoughts #bsd the book #bsd atsushi

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nynnma · 3 months ago

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Hii I was wondering if you could do Shrimpo x Reader (fluff, yandere or both, i don't mind)/nf

YANDERE!SHRIMPO X GN!READER

in which I write small hcs of yandere shrimpo

FEATURING; shrimpo from dandy’s world

WARNINGS; jealousy, yandere behaviour, possessiveness, implied murder,

Yandere!Shrimpo who would get extremely jealous when you directed/diverted your attention to someone else other than him, blanking out to the point where he would get pissed off and drag you away or kill the person who stole your attention from him.

Yandere!Shrimpo who would cherish every gift he got from you, whether it be a small candy, simple note, bad drawing, or anything at all. He’d lock it away somewhere safe so no one other than him could see, or be near it at all.

Yandere!Shrimpo who would piss you off on purpose, loving how you yelled back at him, the way your eyebrows creased when yelling, the scrunch of your nose whenever you made eye contact with him. Oh he loved many things about you, but he just loved seeing you get aggressive or protective.

Yandere!Shrimpo who would slowly take people out of your life, starting off with people you barely knew to the ones you held close to your heart. Forcing you to rely on him and only him once everyone had left, by force or not.

Yandere!Shrimpo who would threaten you for fun, the scared expression on your face sending a certain rush through his body he had never felt before.

A/N - I’m sorry if this isn’t enough to yk, I just don’t really know Shrimpos character that much?…but OMGGGG hello everyone guess who’s back😅 also so sorry for taking such a long break I just wasn’t in the mood to write? But yea….anywayssssss I’m back in action 🔥🔥🔥

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the-masked-ram · 7 months ago

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Sweet and Sour- Part One

CW: SFW, Slow burn, Eventual NSFW, Tags will change with each installment, Fem!reader, sassy reader, opposites attract

A/N: I am taking some liberties with Kaji and the Wind Breaker world with as much as we know about it. This is kind of canon divergent but not an AU

Kaji first met you when the sun was setting. Music was blaring in his ears, a sucker pressed firmly in between his teeth and cheek, and he was frowning down at his scuffed-up knuckles. That damned cat was far more trouble than it was worth. He pursed his lips; it was going to get fucking hurt one day. That thought, the thought that a part of the town that cared for him and accepted him and gave him purpose, might get hurt and wither like a dying flower caused a vicious twisting sensation in his chest.

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He huffed and shook his head, pushing that feeling away. It was his job to make sure none of that happened. Even now that he was only in Bofurin and no longer in Furin, even though he was too old to truly be part of the school, it didn’t matter. Everyone who was ever once part of Bofurin never stopped. Not until they were forced to.

His gaze dragged along the park he’d found himself in, alone after a long day of patrols. He was still considered a cornerstone in Bofurin, but he was certain one day someone would take his place and that day he would need to find something outside that world that would carry him. Kaji just wasn’t sure what the resting beast inside of him would accept. He’d only known violence, he’d just found a way to channel it for good.

Only one bench had an opening, but you sat on the other side. He hesitated, uncertain, he didn’t want to be bothered now. But then he noticed the orange glow glinting off your headset, the gentle nod of your chin as you bobbed it in time with whatever music you were listening to while your fingers dug around a tin of candy.

His gaze slipped away from you, intending to avoid drawing your attention. He dropped onto the farthest edge of the seat, twirling the stick of the sucker so the candy rolled its welcoming sweetness against his tongue. Your head hadn’t even shifted in his direction.

It was strange, being part of Bofurin meant never getting a moment of peace. Something Kaji usually thrived in, he liked the noise, the rowdiness, even if he didn’t show it. Yet, it also meant when he needed a moment, just a second, to himself so he could think things over it was near impossible to find it. With a town member so close he imagined that you would start thanking him, making his spine stiffen and his hackles raise until something vulgar, and defensive came from his mouth, even if he tried to soften the blow of his words it never quite worked. You didn’t though.

In fact… Kaji tilted his head as he leaned back against the bench, eyes roving over you discreetly, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you before. He wasn’t necessarily good with names, but he wasn’t terrible with faces. He was certain he’d remember yours too. You gave no acknowledgement of his presence though and there was something about it, something about you being there, smiling as you nodded along with your music, sucking on ume sour candy, and staring across at the sparkling horizon. Your silence was comforting, was welcoming without needing anything to be said, it was different, and Ren liked it.

“Here,” you said, holding out a bandage.

There was a piece of him, so small, that wanted to ask your name. It made his skin itch and his teeth grind with nerves, but he pushed it down. He was never the one to talk first. He didn’t want to encourage that. He’d rather be left alone right now; he was bothered enough by the others in Bofurin.

He looked down at the damage to his hand once again and sighed, soaking in the last of the warm rays against his jacket. A shadow fell in front of him, and he startled, looking up with his fist clenching in preparation.

“Don’t be an idiot,” you narrowed your eyes and tilted your head, challenging him.

Your headset was down around your neck and your cheek bulged with the candy. He scowled.

“Don’t need it,” he huffed, as he shifted his headset away from his ears.

“It’s just a damned scrape,” he grumbled, fighting to soften his voice. “I’ve had worse.”

“I’m sure you have, still… even the smallest thing can get worse. A scrape can get infected,” you said persistently and knelt down, ripping open the package and taking his hand in yours.

Instantly Kaji moved to pull back, but your fingers tightened, and you fixed him with a glare that had him freezing up. Not even Kotoha could do that to him. Your touch was delicate though even with the furrow to your brow as you pressed the bandage into place causing your face to morph into a pleased smile.

“Don’t be dumb, keep that on,” you said as you stood and dusted yourself, only to turn and leave.

Kaji could do nothing more than blink, a light flush burned his cheeks, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as you walked away before the sun set completely. He definitely would have remembered you. Who the hell were you?

#ren kaji x reader #wind breaker #drabble series #fanfiction #ren kaji

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astro-witchery · 2 months ago

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♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎♉︎

—Full Super Moon in Taurus—

☆ P A C ☆

Choose the stim board gif you like best to see what you may need to hear this full moon! ⇩

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Just a note! You can choose more than one if you are feeling called to more than one. Also this is a general reading so I’m sorry I’m advance if none of these resonate with you or your situation ~

1. 2. 3.

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Page of Swords Reversed: Be mindful of miscommunication this full moon. You do not have enough information to draw conclusions, so do not be impulsive and act out. The moon can be playing tricks on you now, things might not be as they seem. You need to clear your head and get rid of all confusion before you make a move. Even if you believe someone to be being dishonest with you, you must wait until you know for certain. Your mind might be racing and your thoughts scattered, causing you to overthink and jump to conclusions. Go rest, meditate, listen to music, take a shower or a bath, eat chocolate, watch a movie, WHATEVER! Just don’t go acting on how your feeling right now. Place extra care on thinking before you speak. Seek clarity before making decisions. Don’t rely on surface level information. Do the research and get the receipts before going after anybody!

Ten of Pentacles Reversed: You or someone significant to you might be facing issues or struggles with their family (this is not just nuclear family, this is anyone you consider family.) there is the possibility of disagreements of responsibilities or goals. It could also be that you aren’t behaving how this support system or family is wanting of expecting you to behave, causing conflict. Your goals or a family members goals might not be in alignment. This can also signify financial troubles ahead OR that you are extremely worried/insecure about your finances or financial future. There might be a random expense heading your way so keep your savings full if you can. This card also shows a person who feels unmoored from their life purpose. Avoid short term gains or get rich quick schemes or scams. You might be drawn to these now at the full moon. Try to release these pressures from yourself. You can’t be everything that people want you to be and that’s okay. Set reasonable and attainable goals for yourself. If possible try to open a line of communication with your family and be open and honest about how you’re feeling. If this isn’t possible, try to find other ways to express yourself like a therapist, journal, or close confidant outside of the situation. Reflect on what success means to YOU. You don’t have to live up to the standards of others. You can create your own legacy on your own terms.

King of Wands Upright: You or someone of significance in your life is confident as hell. This card is indicative of someone who is charismatic and a leader. They know how to motivate others and how to take charge. If you feel like this card represents you, trust your intuition now as it won’t fail you. You know where you want to go and you have all the tools to make it happen. Stay passionate, and it will be a success for you. You might need to make bold moves, but don’t let that frighten you. You are the best candidate because you have a willingness to take the risks to achieve success. This is very much an entrepreneurial energy, someone who can make something out of nothing, and it inspires everyone around you. You’ve mastered your creative power and can bring your visions to life. Make sure you step into your rightful leadership position. Don’t let this opportunity pass you! Set goals and stay focused on your vision. Your determination will carry you forward. Don’t let the power get to your head however, make sure you still lead your life with humility and compassion. Really reflect on your values this full moon to make sure you’re directing your creative energy and drive in the right areas.

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Hope you enjoyed this one! I offer paid tarot readings and tropical astrology chart readings for a sliding scale price! DM me or go to my Asks to inquire and learn more.

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Stay Warm and Enjoy the Full Moon! ♉︎ ☽◯☾

#tarot #tarotblr #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarotcommunity #daily tarot #tarot witch #free tarot #tarot deck #pac reading #full moon taurus #taurus #cosmic witch #lunar witch #full moon #divination witch #divination #witchblr

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moonsandmobilityaids-inactive · 3 months ago

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The Flu Part 3

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: You get the flu. But for someone with your immune system, the flu is never just the flu. Warnings: Flu Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

The morning light seeps through the high windows of the hospital wing, illuminating dust particles that float lazily in the still air. It's quiet, a stark contrast to the usual bustle of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. On any other day, you'd be out there with the rest of them, rushing to class or laughing in the Great Hall over breakfast. But today is different. Today, you lie immobile on a crisp white bed, your body heavy and unresponsive.

A dull throb pulses at your temples, matching the rhythm of your heart. Your skin burns hot against the cool sheets, while tremors run down your spine, leaving a trail of chills in their wake. You swallow hard, your throat raw and parched despite the glasses of water Madam Pomfrey insists you drink. The fever has its hold on you, refusing to let go, clinging with an intensity that tightens around you like a vice.

Madam Pomfrey hovers nearby, her face etched with concern as she consults another healer—a tall, stern-looking man who casts worried glances in your direction. Their voices blend into a low hum, words indistinguishable from the static buzz in your head. They speak about you, of that you're certain, but the meaning slips away before you can grasp it, lost amidst the fog clouding your mind.

Beside you, three figures sit huddled together—James, Sirius, and Remus. They've been there the whole time, taking turns keeping watch by your bedside. Their shoulders are tense, postures rigid, every so often casting anxious looks toward where you lie.

"Y/N...," James murmurs, his voice barely more than a whisper. It reaches you, distant and distorted, as if carried on the wind from miles away. "We need you to be okay."

Sirius' hand finds yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your palm. His touch is grounding, a beacon calling you back from the edge of consciousness.

"We're right here," he says, though his tone lacks its usual bravado, replaced instead with a quiet desperation. The reality of the situation hangs heavy in the air—the girl they care so deeply for reduced to this state, each breath drawing shallower than the last.

Remus watches, his knuckles white where they grip the armrest. It's not supposed to be like this—you're not supposed to be lying there, pale and motionless. He wants to do something, anything, but feels helpless in the face of your illness. A low growl rumbles in his chest, frustration mounting.

Madam Pomfrey moves with purpose, her steps echoing off the stone walls of the hospital wing. The stern-faced healer beside her follows closely, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. They've been at it since morning—concocting potions, casting spells—all in an attempt to break your fever, but nothing seems to work. Your body fights back, resistant to their efforts.

"Stay with us," James murmurs, his voice a soft mantra that circles the room, weaving through the silence that stretches between each agonising second. Sirius and Remus echo his sentiment, their own pleas adding to the symphony of worry that hangs heavy in the air.

Madam Pomfrey's hand hovers above your forehead, her touch light as she checks your temperature once more. Her expression hardens as she pulls away, confirming what they all fear—the fever hasn’t broken, and your condition is worsening.

She turns to the boys, her gaze meeting theirs with an unwavering intensity. "I need to speak with you three," she says, gesturing towards the far corner of the room. There’s a gravity to her tone that leaves no room for argument. With hesitant glances back at your still form, they rise from their seats, following her with heavy hearts.

Once out of earshot, Madam Pomfrey takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation ahead. "Y/N's fever isn’t going down," she begins, ignoring the way her voice wavers. She clears her throat, pushing forward despite the knot tightening in her stomach. "And the infection... it's spreading."

Sirius' grip tightens around the edge of the chair he's leaning against, knuckles whitening under the strain. Beside him, James swallows hard, his adam's apple bobbing as he struggles to process the information. Remus remains silent, eyes fixed on the ground, every muscle in his body taut with tension.

"The problem is Y/N's immune system," Madam Pomfrey continues, her words measured and precise—a stark contrast to the turmoil churning within each of them. "It's too weak to fight off this kind of infection."

This isn't the first time you have been in such a state, and they’ve seen you confined to the hospital wing before, pale and shaking, after another bout with your chronic illness. But never like this.

"I've done everything I can here," Madam Pomfrey admits, her voice barely a whisper now. "But given the severity of Y/N's condition and her weakened immune system..." She trails off, the weight of her next words hanging heavily in the air.

"There’s only one option left." She meets their gazes again, her own reflecting a mixture of determination and regret. "We have to transfer Y/N to St Mungo’s."

"You can't mean that," Sirius says, his voice rough with disbelief and simmering anger. He looks ready to argue, to insist there must be another way, but even he knows that Madam Pomfrey wouldn't suggest such a drastic measure unless it was absolutely necessary.

Remus is quieter, his jaw tight and hands clenched in his lap. He knew this was a possibility—had feared it, even—but hearing it spoken aloud makes it all too real, the words slicing through the thin veil of hope they've been clinging to.

All three boys turn to look at you, lying so still on the hospital bed. A mix of fear and helplessness flickers in their eyes as they take in your pale complexion, the dark circles under your closed lids—a stark contrast to the vibrant, lively girl they know and love.

"Y/N," James whispers, as if saying your name could somehow anchor you to them, keep you safe within the castle walls. But there's no response from your motionless form, only the steady rise and fall of your chest offering any reassurance.

"St Mungo's?" Your voice is barely a whisper, the words slipping past your dry lips with effort. The thought of leaving Hogwarts—your home away from home—sends a pang through your chest, sharper than any physical pain you've experienced.

"I know it's not ideal," Madam Pomfrey says gently, her hand still resting on your forehead. "But we're running out of options here at Hogwarts."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes—not of fear, but frustration. You want to protest, to say there must be another way, but deep down, you understand the severity of your condition. And despite the swirling emotions threatening to consume you, one fact remains painfully clear: staying at Hogwarts could mean letting this illness take an even greater hold over you.

"Okay," you manage, though the word feels heavy and tastes bitter on your tongue.

Madam Pomfrey gives a small nod of approval, relief briefly flashing across her face before she resumes her professional demeanor. "Rest now," she instructs. "We'll make sure everything is ready for the transfer."

You want to argue, to tell her you're not tired—that sleep won't help. But that would be a lie. Every inch of your body aches; exhaustion seeps into your bones, pulling you further under its spell. Fighting off the infection has left you drained and weak, each breath more laborious than the last.

James watches as Madam Pomfrey walks away, a hollow feeling settling in his stomach. He glances back at you, lying so still on the hospital bed, your face pale and drawn. Despite the distance between you, he can see the subtle tremble of your hands, the slight furrow in your brow—a testament to the battle raging within you.

Sirius stands rigid beside him, arms crossed tightly over his chest as if trying to ward off the chill creeping into the room—or perhaps the reality of your condition. His grey eyes, usually sparkling with mischief and confidence, are clouded with worry.

"This doesn't feel right," Sirius mutters, running a hand through his hair in a rare display of unease. "There has to be something else we can do."

"I'll arrange for the transfer within the hour," Madam Pomfrey declares, her tone leaving no room for argument. It's a sound you've grown accustomed to over the years—firm yet caring, always with your best interest at heart.

The next time you open your eyes, there's another figure standing by your bed—a healer from St Mungo's, dressed in lime green robes that seem too bright against the stark white of the hospital wing. They move with calm efficiency as they check your vitals and prepare you for transport.

You're barely conscious, hovering on the edge of awareness. The pain has dulled into something distant, but it lingers still, a constant reminder of the battle being fought within your body. Even so, you try to focus on the voices around you—the familiar cadence of James' worry, Sirius' attempts at levity, Remus' quiet strength.

"Y/N." The whisper comes from beside you, where James sits, his hand reaching out to grasp yours. His fingers are warm and slightly calloused from countless hours spent gripping a Quidditch broom handle. He doesn't say much else—what is there to say?—but his worried expression speaks volumes.

Across the room, Sirius paces, each step punctuating the silence like a metronome ticking away seconds. His brow furrows, lips pressed into a thin line as he runs a hand through his hair—an attempt, perhaps, to physically shake off the helplessness threatening to consume him. He stops mid-stride, glancing back at you, then quickly turns away again, unable to hide the concern etched onto his features.

Remus stands a little farther back, arms crossed tightly across his chest. His gaze never strays from you, watching every move the healer makes with a hawk-like intensity. If he's afraid, he hides it well behind the stoic mask he wears, but the tension radiating from him betrays his true feelings. This isn't how it's supposed to be—you're not supposed to be lying there, pale and weak while they stand helpless, waiting for news that could change everything.

"Stretcher," the healer commands, wand at the ready. A floating stretcher appears beside your bed, its surface shimmering slightly with protective charms. The boys watch as the healer carefully levitates you onto it, their eyes wide with apprehension.

"How long will she have to stay there?" James asks. His voice is steady, but his grip on the edge of your hospital bed betrays his worry.

"And can we visit her?" Sirius adds, arms crossed over his chest. He's trying to appear nonchalant, but the slight crease between his brows gives him away.

"What about treatments? What are they going to do exactly?" Remus questions, his tone quiet yet persistent.

The healer looks up from her task and takes a moment to address them. "It depends on how Y/N responds to the treatments our team provides," she explains patiently. "We'll be placing her in a specialised ward designed for those with compromised immune systems."

"Compromised—" James starts, but the word catches in his throat, leaving an unspoken question hanging in the air.

"Yes," the healer continues without missing a beat, understanding the gravity behind his unfinished question. "Given Y/N's current condition, stronger potions will be used—ones that aren't readily available here at Hogwarts. We'll monitor her closely, adjust the dosage if needed..."

She trails off, returning her focus to securing you onto the stretcher. Her movements are deliberate, each one serving a purpose—to ensure your safe transfer, to maintain your stability, to offer a sliver of hope amidst the uncertainty.

"We'll take good care of her," the healer reassures them, though whether it's out of professional duty or genuine empathy, they can't tell. All they know is that you're being taken away, beyond the stone walls of Hogwarts, into the unknown.

Despite the assurance, the words hover like smoke, thick and suffocating. They cling to every corner, seeping into the cracks, offering little comfort against the chill that has settled deep within their bones. Can this stranger truly understand what you mean to them—their girlfriend, their confidante, the girl who fits so seamlessly into their lives?

“She will be okay, boys," Madam Pomfrey reassures them softly. "St Mungo’s has the best healers in our world. I'll keep you updated on her condition."

You feel James's hand tighten around yours again—a lifeline amidst the storm that threatens to consume your thoughts. His voice breaks through the fog of fear and pain, a beacon guiding you back from the edge.

"We're here, Y/N," he whispers, his breath warm against your cool skin. He lifts your hand up gently, pressing it to his lips. His eyes are full of worry as they meet yours, but he forces a smile onto his face—a shield against the despair that looms over all of you. "We won't leave until they take you away."

Beside him, Sirius stands tall and resolute. His usually playful features are drawn into a serious expression—one that speaks volumes about the gravity of the situation.

"See you soon, baby," he murmurs, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. Even now, with everything at stake, he manages to hold onto the hope that things will get better—that you will get better.

Remus is the last one to approach. Unlike the others, his goodbye isn't filled with empty promises or forced optimism—it's quiet and gentle, like the man himself.

"Just hang on a little longer, Y/N," he says, resting a hand lightly on your shoulder. His touch is comforting, grounding, even though you can barely feel it through the numbness that has spread across your body. His eyes, a soft mix of concern and reassurance, never leave yours. "You have to fight this... for us."

#Poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #Sirius black x reader #Sirius black x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #james potter x you #james potter x reader #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfic

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formula-nyoom · 8 months ago

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Stars Racing Past-2

Summary: After managing to escape the phantom on Tatooine, (Y/N), Seb, and Kimi head to Coruscant to meet with the Jedi Council to hopefully allow (Y/N) to become a Jedi and be assigned a teacher.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the support on the first chapter. I'm really glad people liked it and I can't wait for you guys to read what I've got cooking. While I don't really like taglists, I will have one for this series. I think the max I can tag is 50(ish) people so I will have to cut it off at some point. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Series Masterlist

~~~

The ship seemed to remain in one piece as it traveled through lightspeed. And with nothing indicating that the hyperdrive would fail, Kimi switched on the autopilot as he and Seb focused on the girl that was now with them. Now that things were calm, she seemed to be processing everything that just happened as her eyes stared at the light rapidly traveling past the ship

“(Y/N)...” Seb gently said, drawing the girl’s attention to him. “Can you tell us what happened? Why was this person chasing you?”

“I don’t know. He had come into the store after closing…he…” The girl trailed off.

“Can you tell us exactly what happened?” Seb quietly asked. (Y/N) took a breath and nodded.

“I was working on repairing my speeder when I heard Mr (L/N) tell a customer to leave. He mentioned the two of you…I thought you guys had come back to get me or sent someone to come get me. But when I peered in… there was just something about this person that felt wrong.”

“What did you sense from this person?” Kimi asked.

“Sinister…and dark.” (Y/N) said. “He didn’t feel anything like when you guys had come in earlier.”

“You said that he killed them…did he kill Mr and Mrs (L/N)?” Seb asked. The girl nodded. Her eyes started to water as the scene of the phantom driving his red lighted blade through their chests replayed in her head.

“I ran as soon as he saw me. I jumped on my speeder and took off. I didn’t know where I was going at first, I just knew I had to get far away from this…this phantom.”

“Lucky you were able to find us then.” Kimi said.

“I don’t think it was luck.” Both Seb and (Y/N) said. Seb looked at the girl perplexed.

“What do you mean by that?” He asked

“I..I felt something. I don’t know how to really describe it, but I felt something guiding me in a certain direction. It led me to you guys.”

Seb smiled.

“I knew The Force would make our paths cross again.” He said. (Y/N) tried to mirror Seb’s sentiment, but her mind kept going back to the phantom.

“Who…who was that person that chased me. What did he want with me?” (Y/N) asked.

“He was a Sith.” Kimi said. Seb looked at him with concern.

“Are you sure? The Sith hadn’t been seen in ages.”

“Everything about him screamed Sith, from his lightsaber to the way he fought.” Kimi said. “I don’t think this was a random occurrence.”

“What do you mean?”

“On a previous mission, I was investigating rumors of potential dark side activity. I didn’t have enough evidence to warrant bringing this matter up to the council. But now I think we should.” Kimi said.

“What’s a Sith?”(Y/N) asked.

“Dark side Force users.” Kimi said. (Y/N) still looked confused. Seb kneeled down next to her to be eye level.

“There are two sides of the Force. There’s the light side that the Jedi use to try and bring peace, and there’s the dark side that the Sith use for conflict and nefarious purposes. Before the age of The High Republic, the Jedi and Sith would fight constantly before most of the Sith were wiped out and hadn’t been seen since.” Seb explained.

“But it seems like they may be trying to come back or rise to power.” Kimi said.

“What would the Sith want with me?” (Y/N) asked. “I’m…I’m just a slave.”

“You’re not a slave. You’re so much more than just a person.” Seb said, gently clasping the girl’s hands. “(Y/N)...I believe that you can become an exceptional Jedi. You seem to be well in tune with The Force. I saw you use it in the shop, and you were able to channel it to help you find us. You seem to have a much better grasp on it than any other untrained force sensitive person I’ve come across.”

The girl was silent for a couple moments.

“Are the stories true? That the Jedi fight for the good of others? Bring peace to the galaxy?” She asked.

“Yes. The Jedi stand to be guardians of peace and justice. We use the light side of the Force to help protect and fight for others who can’t. And you could be that kind of person…” Seb explained. “But I also don’t want to pressure you into coming with us back to the Jedi Temple.

“Considering the circumstances, you’re no longer a slave.” Kimi said.

“He’s right. You’re free now to do whatever you want, go wherever you want to go.” Seb said.

“But that Sith we encountered will still try to come after you.”

“Kimi’s unfortunately right about that too. Whatever the Sith may have wanted with you, it’s not good. You would be safer with us back at The Temple. But again, I leave the decision up to you.”

(Y/N) looked back towards the flying stars, taking in all that was said. Seb and Kimi were right, she was free. She could make her own choices now.

“I’ll come with you. I want to train to be a Jedi and fight for those that can’t.” (Y/N) said. Seb smiled.

“That’s wonderful to hear.” He said.

(Y/N) smiled. Seb looked like he believed in her. That’s the first time someone has looked at her that way.

“Don’t get too excited, Seb.” Kimi said. “We still have to meet with The Council about this matter. They may think she’s too old to start training as it goes against The Code.”

Seb didn’t seem deterred by Kimi’s words.

“I have faith that they’ll make the right decision. Besides, we'll have to inform the Council about our encounter with a Sith. I think once they hear about that, they’ll see how important the matter is.” Seb said.

The time traveling to Coruscant wasn’t long, but it took enough time for (Y/N) to doze off, the events of the past few hours finally catching up to her. When she woke, she was met with blue sky and the sight of city skylines.

“Have you ever been to a planet like Coruscant?” Seb asked when he noticed the girl was awake. (Y/N) shook her head.

“I’ve lived on Tatooine for most of my life.” She said.

(Y/N) tried to take in all the new sights as Kimi piloted the SF-16. She watched as other smaller ships flew past various buildings and apartments. There seemed to be so much hustle and bustle in Coruscant. A stark contrast to Tatoonie. Eventually the SF-16 flew towards a giant structure that seemed to stick out compared to everything else in the city. It had various towers while looking very square. (Y/N) could tell that this was The Jedi Temple that Seb and Kimi kept mentioning.

Kimi piloted the ship onto a landing pad and the three began to disembark.

The ship door opened and (Y/N) was hit with a blast of cool air and no humidity as she followed Seb and Kimi off the ship. Now seeing the Temple up close, it was way more imposing with an almost wing-like symbol displayed on banners that hang from the front.

A young man greeted the three of them as they made their way closer to the temple entrance. He wore the same clothes as Seb and Kimi, minus the robe, and had short blonde hair with one long braided strand.

“Master Vettel! You're back! How were the negotiations?” The man said.

“We had some complications. Could you alert the Council of our arrival. There are matters we need to discuss with them.” Seb said.

“Certainly.” The young man said. He turned around and started to hurry off.

(Y/N) followed Seb and Kimi past the entrance and into the temple proper. Various people greeted Seb and Kimi as they walked past while also giving curious glances towards (Y/N). (Y/N) tried to stick close to Seb, not wanting to draw any attention herself while also trying to take in all her surroundings. The temple was big and open with high arching ceilings and architecture (Y/N) had never seen before. Some of the adults that passed by were accompanied by kids (Y/N)’s age, having the same braid as the young man that greeted them at the entrance. And the atmosphere of everything, it felt the same to (Y/N) as when Seb and Kimi first walked into the repair shop but multiplied by 10.

It felt both safe and suffocating at the same time.

Soon the three of them made it to a set of tall double doors with the same intricate symbol as the ones on the banners. The young man that greeted them when they landed stood in front of the doors and smiled at Seb as they approached.

“They’re inside ready to meet you.” He said.

“Thank you Mick. Will you wait out here for me? I need to talk to you about some things regarding your training.” Seb told him. Mick nodded.

Standing in front of the big doors, (Y/N) suddenly felt very nervous. The idea of having to meet with people only referred to as “The Council” seemed very nerve wracking to the young girl. Seb seemed to notice this as he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“I just want to reassure you that there is nothing to worry about. The Council may seem intimidating to you at first, but they aren’t.” Seb said.

“I was intimidated by them when I first met them.” The young man, Mick, said. He gave (Y/N) a reassuring smile. (Y/N) tried to give one in return but she was pretty sure that nervousness still showed on her face.

“You can stand by Kimi while I talk with The Council. I don’t think I’ll have to do much convincing to have them allow you to become part of The Order, but they may ask you a couple questions.” He said. “Are you ready?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath to try and steal her nerves.

“Yes.” She said, Seb smiled and nodded his head before opening the door.

The circular room was much smaller than (Y/N) expected it to be.

Nine chairs were arranged in a circle that took up most of the room. All of the seats except for two had someone sitting in it: Men dressed in the same attire as Seb and Kimi.

Most of them greeted Seb with a smile but all of them seemed to look at (Y/N) once she stepped into the room. She moved closer to Kimi, almost trying to hide behind him.

“Master Vettel. It’s good to see both you and Master Räikkönen back in one piece. Master Alonso informed us that the negotiations with the Trade Federation didn’t seem to go well.” Master Webber, one of Seb’s fellow councilmen, spoke. Seb nodded his head.

“You are correct, Master Webber. The Trade Federation was not up for negotiations in the slightest. We tried to have an open discussion with them but after a couple minutes the Leader left the room and me and Kimi were soon swarmed by battle droids. We had to fight our way out of there and during our ship’s retreat, the hyperdrive ended up being damaged, causing us to crash land on Tatooine.” Seb explained.

“Seems you may have picked something up while on Tatooine.” Master Ricciardo said, glancing behind Seb at (Y/N). He wore a friendly smile, but (Y/N) couldn’t help but try to make herself seem smaller due to nerves.

“We encountered a member of the Sith while on Tatooine.” Kimi said. Some of the men looked at each other with either confusion or concern.

“The Sith haven't been seen in ages.” Master Bottas said.

“What was a potential Sith doing on Tatooine.” Master Rosberg asked.

“That was the other matter I wished to discuss with you. I had mentioned to Master Alonso earlier that me and Master Räikkönen believe that we have found The Chosen.” Seb said. He turned around and gestured to (Y/N) to come join him in the center of the room. (Y/N) quietly walked over and stood next to Seb. The tone in the room seemed to shift once (Y/N) stood before them, as if they could sense something she couldn’t. (Y/N) wished she could be as small as possible with all these sets of eyes on her.

“What’s your name, young one?” Master Webber asked the girl.

“(Y/N).” She quietly said.

“You’re from Tatoonie?” He asked. (Y/N) shook her head.

“No. I was sold on Tatooine. I don’t know what planet I'm originally from.”

“You were a slave?” A different man asked. He had darker skin and wore his hair in braids. The girl nodded.

“(Y/N) said that the trader who sold her only dealt with Force sensitive. That’s a matter I feel we should discuss as well but at a later time." Seb chimed in.

“How old are you?” Master Webber asked her.

“11.” That answer caused some of the men to whisper to each other. (Y/N) tried not to think about what Kimi had said earlier about her possibly being too old to join The Order.

“How old were you when you were sold?” The man with braids asked.( (Y/N) would learn later he’s addressed as Master Hamilton)

“Five.” She told him. Master Webber took in the girl’s appearance, how she stood and how her hands fidgeted with the hem of her shirt to try and ease her nerves. But (Y/N) felt that he was trying to sense something else.

“(Y/N), with all that's happened to you in the past hours, you don't seem to be upset about being away from what was your home planet.” He said. (Y/N)’s face seemed to harden at his observation.

“Tatoonie never felt like home. Neither did the people who owned me.” She said, her voice now at an even and clear volume.

“So you have no attachments to the life that you had on Tatooine?”

(Y/N) didn’t need to think hard about that question. The people she belonged to were dead. She never made any real friends on that planet and besides repairing old speeders, she felt there was nothing to call her back to Tatooine.

“No. There’s nothing left for me back on Tatooine.” She said firmly. Master Webber looked to Seb

“You think she should join the Order.” Master Webber. It didn’t sound like a question, more so like Master Webber already knew Seb’s intentions.

“She’s too old.”Master Rosberg said. “She hasn’t been taught the proper teachings like every youngling must learn.”

“I understand that but I’ve seen how she uses The Force and how she’s been able to channel it. I believe if given time, proper training, and a good teacher, she can become a great Jedi.” Seb explained. (Y/N) wanted to smile at Seb’s words, but as she took them in, she also remembered that Seb had referred to as “The Chosen" earlier. (Y/N) wanted to know what he meant by that. It sounded like something with high expectations.

The men broke out into whispers amongst each other as they debated on what decision to make. Seb looked down at (Y/N) and gave her a reassuring smile and her shoulder a gentle squeeze. It comforted her a bit.

“The Council has decided…” Master Webber spoke after a few more moments of hushed whispers. “...that despite her age and considering the circumstances, (Y/N) will be allowed to join The Order and train in the ways of The Jedi.”

Both (Y/N) and Seb seemed to let out a relieved breath.

“Master Räikkönen will be her teacher.” Master Webber said. Kimi cleared his throat, having stayed at the back of the room the whole time.

“With all due respect, the missions I go on are not fit for a padawan.” He said.

“I’d be happy to take her on as my padawan.” Seb said.

“You already have a padawan Master Vettel. You can not take on another one.” Master Button said.

“I believe that Mick is ready to take on the trials to become a Jedi Knight. I’ve trained him for many years and feel he is prepared to handle his own missions.” Seb said. A few of the Council men glanced at each other.

“The Council has seen Padawan Schumacher’s progress. While he has learned and grown over the years with his abilities regarding The Force since becoming your padawan, recent months have cast doubt on if he is ready to become a Knight. Unfortunately we will have to deny your request.” Master Webber said.

“Not to mention that there are more younger Jedi Knights who are ready to take on padawans. I understand that with you believing that this girl is the Chosen one, that she should have a more experienced teacher, but The Council have not yet seen anything from her that truly proves so. Therefore she will be treated like every new padawan that comes into the Jedi Order.” Master Alonso explained. Seb nodded his head.

“I understand.” He said, hiding his disappointment inside. “If that is the case…then I believe I may know of a suitable teacher for (Y/N).”

~~~

The sounds of lightsabers clashing echoed throughout the training room as Seb entered. Once the council meeting had ended, Seb had asked Mick to show (Y/N) to what would be her new living quarters while Seb headed to the training room to look for a certain Jedi Knight. One or two people training greeted Seb as he entered, but most were engrossed in the sparring match that was happening in the middle of the room.

Two young men were engaged in a fierce lightsaber duel. One had dark blonde hair and wielded a blue lightsaber with intensity. His opponent deflected the hits with his own two green lightsabers. They seemed evenly matched, each deflecting hits that came their way. One may suspect that the young man wielding two lightsabers would have the upper hand, but a subtle feint and quick force powered shove from the dark blonde sent the brown haired young man he was fighting down to the ground, dropping one of his sabers.

“I win this one Charles.” The dark blonde young man said as he held his lightsaber in front, almost as if stopping the brunette from getting up. But the two smiled at each other and the blonde lowered his lightsaber to offer Charles a hand up. Those around that watched the sparring match applauded the two of them. Seb included.

“Max!” Seb called out. The dark blonde turned and, after giving Charles a pat on the shoulder, walked over to the Jedi Master.

“Yes, Master Vettel?”

“I know we haven’t spoken about this matter in a while but I wanted to know if you still had your objections about taking on a padawan?”

“Like I’ve said before Master Vettel, I don’t think it would be fit for me to take on a padawan. I’m-”

“-not a good teacher. I know, you’ve said that multiple times. However, I’ve just met with the council regarding an important matter.” Seb said.

“The Council can’t assign me a padawan. I have to be the one to choose.” Max said.

“I know that, but we think you and her would be a good pairing. You know what it’s like to have high expectations placed upon you.” Seb said. Max gave him a confused look.

“What do you mean by that exactly?”

“Come with me. I think this matter should be discussed somewhere more private.”

(Y/N) should expect that everything on Coruscant was going to be better than what she had on Tatooine. Yet she was still surprised by the living quarters that Mick showed her. The room had a proper bed with a mattress (Y/N) felt she could sink right into, a window with a view looking out at the Coruscant skyline, and a closet filled with garb like the ones everyone in the temple was wearing. It was all so much more than (Y/N) ever had.

(Y/N) didn’t hesitate in changing from her old, Tatoonie clothing into a fresh set of tunic and pants, throwing her old pair into a trash can without hesitation. The clothes fit perfectly, like they were meant to. She caught a glimpse of herself in the window’s reflection. Her hair was still messy and there was still some dirt and sand left smudged on her face, but everything else she saw looked nice, looked new.

“This is different.” She thought to herself. “This place feels safe.”

She looked again at her new living quarters. (Y/N) assumed that she was supposed to wait for Seb or someone else to come get her. But after traveling with Seb and Kimi for the past couple hours and having to meet with The Council, (Y/N) finally had some time to herself. And even though (Y/N) could spend hours on end sitting by the window staring at the skyline, there was a whole Temple to explore. And that’s what she was going to do.

~~~

At the moment, (Y/N) had no idea where in the temple she was. Honestly she should have expected this, being in a big and elaborate building she’s never been in before. (Y/N) had managed to find the temple’s library, mess hall, and the same entrance she had entered in with Seb and Kimi. But in trying to find her way back to her living quarters, (Y/N) seemed to have gotten a bit turned around.

‘Maybe if I double back and try and retrace my steps-’

(Y/N)’s thought process was interrupted as she accidentally bumped into the back of someone.

“Oh, sorry about that.” (Y/N) apologized as the person turned around. It was a boy about her age, with brunette hair and brown eyes. He wasn’t alone, as a blonde boy with blues stood behind. Both of them had the same singular braid in their hair that Mick had.

“No worries.” The brunette boy said. His voice had the same accent as Master Webber. He looked at (Y/N) with curiosity. “Are you new? I’ve never seen you around The Temple before.” The brunette boy said.

“Oh, yea I’m new...just arrived today.” (Y/N) told him. The boy smiled.

“I’m Oscar. This is Logan.” The brunette boy held out one of his hands for (Y/N) to shake. (Y/N) shook it and held out her hand for the blonde boy to shake. He hesitated before shaking her hand with one of his gloved ones.

“It’s nice to meet you Oscar, Logan. I’m (Y/N)”. She said, “I was trying to explore around but ended up getting a bit lost.”

“It is a bit hard to find your way around this place when you first get here.” Logan said.

“Well me and Logan were gonna head to the training ground. Maybe we could show you parts of the temple on the way there, if you want to join us.” Oscar said.

“Sure. That would be great!” (Y/N) said.

Following the two boys, Oscar and Logan showed (Y/N) parts of the temple she had missed, like some of the teaching rooms and outdoor atrium. Just as she was about to follow Oscar and Logan into the training room, someone called her name.

“(Y/N)!” It was Seb, who walked over with someone in tow. (Y/N) waved goodbye to Oscar and Logan before walking over to meet Seb.

“I was wondering where you may have wandered off to.” Seb said. “I have someone I want you to meet.”

The girl standing before Max wasn’t what he expected. Master Vettel had told him how he thought Max would be the perfect fit to train someone who was expected to become a great Jedi, that there was some prophecy involved with the person he was supposed to train.

“Max, this is (Y/N), she just arrived today. (Y/N), this is Jedi Knight Max Verstappen.” Seb said, introducing the two. The girl, (Y/N) as Seb introduced her, had started fidgeting with one of her sleeves as soon as she walked over. But she seemed to steel herself and held out a hand for Max to shake. It had smudges of dirt and a bit of dried oil left on it.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She said. Max shook his hand.

As soon as their fingers touched, Max felt The Force wrap around him, as if it was trying to tell him something. He tried to steel himself, and hone in on the feeling. And he found that it was coming from the girl in front of him. Did the girl feel it too? Max couldn’t tell as she pulled her hand away. He did the same.

“I was just discussing with Max on how I think he would be a good teacher for you and that you would make a good padawan for him to train.” Seb said to (Y/N). “However the decision does come down to Max, so I thought it would be best for you two to at least meet before any decisions are made.”

Max didn’t think he was the type of person that would be a good teacher, that he wasn’t fit to train a padawan. He’s admitted multiple times that he’d rather spend his time training and going on missions where he could use his lightsaber a plenty than be in the temple teaching a youngling the ways of The Force.

But there’s something about the girl in front of him. Not only with The Force but with just everything about her. Max looked at (Y/N) and saw his younger self staring back.

“Now Max, you don’t need to make a decision now, but I advise that you and (Y/N) try to get to know each other before-”

“I'll do it.” Max said, interrupting Seb. Seb looked at Max with surprise.

“Really? “That’s wonderful to hear!” Seb said, now smiling. “Well my previous suggestion still stands that the two of you should get to know each other before you guys start training. I'll leave you to it.”

Seb gave (Y/N) a reassuring pat on her shoulder and a nod to Max before walking away, leaving the pair alone. The two stared at each other.

“So I assume I address you as Master Verstappen?” (Y/N) asked. Max grimaced.

“Don't call me that. Max is fine.” He said. (Y/N) could now pick up that Max spoke with an accent, one she had never heard before. “Have you eaten at all since you’ve got here?”

(Y/N) shook her head, now realizing how long it had been since she had last eaten.

“Well I can show you the dining hall and we can talk, “get to know each other” as Master Vettel said. Is that ok?”

“Yea, sure. I’m starving.”

Through the windows of the dining hall, (Y/N) could see the sun slowly setting on the Coruscant skyline. After putting various food on her tray, (Y/N) followed Max as he led her to a more secluded part of the dining hall.

As she followed though, (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice the various stares or hushed whispers from people as they passed.

“Is that Verstappen…with a youngling?”

“Verstappen said he would never take on a padawan.”

“Do you think The Council forced him to take on one?”

Max took a seat at one of the tables tucked into the corner. (Y/N) sat across from him and looked down at her food.

“Master Vettel told me you lived on Tatooine. I’ve never been to that planet. What’s it like there?” Max asked. While Max was trying to skirt around the unfortunate circumstance the girl was in before she was found by Sebastian and Kimi, Max still wanted to try and get to know the girl. So he thought asking about the planet where (Y/N) grew up would be a safe question to ask.

“Hot. Sandy. Hot and Sandy is the only way to really describe it.” (Y/N) said with a neutral face as she poked at the food in front of her.

“What was your favorite thing to do there?” Max asked. (Y/N) took a bite of her food and smiled a bit.

“Trying to repair an old speeder that someone left behind.” (Y/N) said. “A bunch of races are held almost every month on Tatooine. I was hoping to get it fixed and enter some of the races. Win enough money to get me off the planet.”

“I prefer racing ships over speeders. A lot more action and opportunity.” Max said. (Y/N) looked at him curiously.

“Is that what I’ll be able to do at some point? Pilot a ship and race it past the stars?” (Y/N) asked. Piloting was something (Y/N) always wanted to learn. Properly. She learned bits and pieces from the pilots that would come into the shop for parts or repairs, but (Y/N) always wanted to learn how to fly a ship. Probably to better her chances of getting off Tattoonie. But (Y/N) no longer had to worry about that.

“Maybe. What I’m supposed to do is teach you how to harness The Force.” Max said. “But you are my padawan, so I can teach you things The Council may not want you to learn when you’re just starting out.” Max said, giving the girl a slight mischievous grin. (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile back.

After the two had finished eating, Max walked (Y/N) back to her living quarters. Whispers and stares seemed to follow them as they walked and (Y/N) tried to brush it off.

“We’ll start your training tomorrow morning.” Max said as they stopped at the door to (Y/N)’s living quarters. “I know it may feel strange sleeping in an unfamiliar place but try to get some proper sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Ok. Goodnight.” (Y/N) watched Max walk away. As he passed by a group of younglings with braids in their hairs, they looked at Max with awestruck faces. But he didn’t pay them any attention. (Y/N) remembered what she felt when she and Max first shook hands. Something seemed to pull her towards Max, The Force trying to tell her that something about him was important. She couldn’t help but wonder…who exactly did Seb assign as her teacher?

TAGLIST: @fangirl-dot-com @chasing-liberosis @miarabanana @vicurious28 @mayo-0-o

#f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x y/n #max verstappen x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #formula 1 star wars au #stars racing past

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kamikotorayama391 · 6 months ago

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Kamiko's commissions (summer 2023)

HELLO~ BEAUTIES AND GENTLEBEAUTIES~ I'm opening some comm slots. How many? I don't really know. When I have enough for me to work in 2-3 maybe 4 weeks, I'll close it. If you want to commission me something, text me in DM or my Discord (torayama_kamiko or Kamiko391#0846)

I draw: - fandom-based characters (anime and manga, animation, TV series, books, comics, and so on); - original characters; - fan characters; - animals, anthro; - blood, some wounds

I DON'T draw: - any politics-themed art: - fetish art (any kind of it); - ecchi/hentai; - NSFW (if you still really want to - +50% to the price tag); - Mecha (I’m bad at it) - pony.

General requirements:

A detailed description of the desired result (poses, expressions, and so on). I will write if further explanations are needed.

3 or 4 character references. I might need more (We’ll specify when placing an order)

If the background (if it will be) is a certain place – 1-2 background references

If there are any time limits – warn me in advance

If you do not live by Moscow time, please, tell me your current time and what time is the most convenient for you to talk

Additional characters: 1-3 additional characters +50% 4-6 additional characters +100%

About work time - depends on the complexity of the commission. If there is a deadline, please let me know in advance. The set time may change for various reasons; in case of an unexpected situation, I will notify.

Working process:

1) After placing an order, I start working on a quick sketch that will roughly show what the result will be. Once the sketch is approved, a 50% prepayment is made.

2) In the process of working on the commission, I will send the results of each stage

3) Before finishing the artwork, I send you the commission in reduced quality and with a watermark. If you are satisfied with the result, you pay the rest of the price. As soon as the money arrives, I send the result in high quality.

If you decide to cancel the commission, I keep 30% of the total cost with me as a refund for the work already done. The rest will be returned to you (even if it may be difficult for me, since, uh, I don’t have an international wallet right now….)

The finished artwork may be posted on my blog as a way of self-promotion as an artist. If you’d rather keep it private, please, notify me in advance.

All prices are in USD

Payment method: via Boosty (more information in this video ) Payment in USD is available now, so you don't need to ask me to re-count the sum in my currency

Some rules to avoid copyright conflicts: 1) If something does not suit you in the commission, don't be shy to tell me so that I can definitely fix it in no time. Until the result satisfies you by 85-100 percent, and the full payment has not been made, I will polish and change the drawing to suit your wishes. 2) Do not request me to redo someone else's work if you are not satisfied with the result provided to you by your other artist. I don't want any conflicts with other creators, I just want to do my job in peace and do what I love. In case of any copyright problems, I will be the first one who has to deal up with the mess, not you. So please don’t. 3) I allow to use my art as references or even a base for your work, but try to avoid direct copying or tracing. Wait at least a month before trying something of this. Try not to use any commissioned artworks for these purposes (if it's not a commissioned reference image or a reference list of course).

#kamiko torayama #kamiko's commissions #commissions open

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ugotnojamzzz · 8 months ago

Text

Rulers of Ruin

Chapter 5

Genre: Mafia!au , Slowburn, Angst, Hurt, eventual smut, TW (it is a mafia!AU, after all)

Pairing: Mafia!Jungkook x reader

Synopsis: There will come a day when I will sit down and write an alluring synopsis for this series. But that day hasn't come just yet lol. Stay tuned for more chapters to come.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language. Also, don’t come for me over the theme, people. It’s an Alternate Universe, which means the bangtan boys are essentially what I like to call meat puppets to serve the storyline. This is obviously not a projection of their actual real-life personas.

Wordcount: 2.9k

Masterlist

Chapter 4

As her initial days at the Kim estate unfolded, Y/N found herself not so much in captivity as in an odd limbo. Though technically a "guest," her freedom was limited by the subtle yet unmistakable presence of guards who followed her every move—to the visible annoyance of Taehyung, who seemed to bear the brunt of this duty.

Namjoon, the orchestrator of her current predicament, was conspicuously absent, his presence dwindling to nothing more than brief sightings at long corridors or fleeting shadows behind closed doors.

This absence gnawed at her, feeding a growing unease about what might be going on—was there some new development involving her brother? Was the standoff between their clans escalating in ways she couldn't see from her gilded cage?

The estate was too quiet. Here and there, people would appear—agents, staff, and other unidentified figures who seemed to have urgent purposes and places to be. Their steps were brisk, their conversations clipped and hushed, hinting at a larger narrative playing out just beyond Y/N's reach.

No one ever seemed to so much as glance in her direction. She was part of the scenery, a fixture within the ornate walls of the mansion, which allowed her a certain degree of observation she wouldn't have possessed otherwise.

Y/N quickly found herself attuned to the rhythms of the house. She began to memorize the patterns of the guards’ patrols, the shifts changes, and the locations of the surveillance cameras—each detail a potential piece in the puzzle of her eventual escape, should the opportunity arise.

Her days developed a routine that brought a semblance of stability. Mornings were spent in the vast, sunlit atrium where breakfast was served promptly at seven. The meals were quiet, the food exquisite yet eaten with the mechanical motions of someone whose thoughts were elsewhere. Afternoons allowed for time in the extensive library, where Y/N pored over books with titles ranging from political treatises to ancient warfare.

Walks in the garden were permitted in the late afternoons. These were her least confined moments, though still shadowed by Taehyung. It was during these walks that she carefully counted steps, noted blind spots, and committed the timing of guard shifts to memory, all under the pretense of leisurely strolls.

One quiet afternoon, Y/N was absorbed in a book, sipping tea in the plush setting of the drawing room, with Taehyung lounging beside her.

The picture of absolute boredom, he sprawled in his bergère chair, idly swiveling his head back and forth to the ticking of the clock when suddenly, the calm was shattered by the doors bursting open.

Two young men marched in with confident strides.

"Taehyung-ah, there you are! We’ve been looking for you," one of them called out, his voice echoing slightly in the spacious room.

"Come on, let's go," urged the other, his tone impatient.

"Can't," Taehyung sighed heavily, nodding in Y/N's direction as she sat immersed in her book.

"Aish, still on babysitting duty, I see," grumbled the first, and with that comment, Y/N's patience snapped. She closed her book with a definitive clap, her eyes lifting slowly to assess the source of her interruption. Her jaw clenched as her gaze fell on two faces that weren’t linked to particularly fond memories.

"YN, this is Jimin," Taehyung introduced, gesturing towards the platinum blonde who had escorted her from the depths of the basement upon her arrival. He sat down next to Taehyung.

"And that’s Yoongi," he continued, nodding towards the man with piercing eyes who had struck the hell out of her a few days prior.

"We’ve met," Y/N responded icily, her gaze fixed on Yoongi. She subtly ran her tongue over the small cut on her lip—a lingering souvenir from their last encounter.

"Yeah, sorry about that, by the way," Yoongi said with a nonchalant shrug as he picked up a tangerine from the table and began peeling it, "you know the drill, orders are orders."

Uninterested, YN turned her attention back to her book.

"So, they really have you following her around all day?" Jimin's question, laced with curiosity, sliced through the room's previous tension. Y/N couldn't help but feel a flicker of offence at their casual disregard for her presence.

Taehyung nodded, a hint of resignation in his voice. "And nights too," he added, rolling his tired eyes slightly. "Guess that's my punishment for the whole capture thing."

"Yeah,” Yoongi chuckled, “I heard that was quite a scene."

"Shut up," Taehyung shot back, not quite able to mask his irritation. Though the physical mark of his black eye had faded, the embarrassment of the botched operation lingered like a stubborn stain.

It had all been planned meticulously, expecting her to be passed out in the SUV almost the second she stepped off the plane. Everything was supposed to go smoothly. What could some frail boarding-school girl possibly do, anyway, right?

But she clearly hadn’t gone down without a fight.

"To be fair, everyone has their strengths," Y/N suddenly commented, her voice even and calm, eyes still fixed on the page of her book, not even granting them the courtesy of her gaze. She turned a page deliberately, then added, "It’s just a shame yours isn’t your job."

At her words, a stifled giggle escaped Jimin, who couldn't help but appreciate the sharp jab. His laughter, however, was short-lived. Without missing a beat, Yoongi delivered a swift slap to the back of his blonde head, a clear reprimand for his lack of decorum.

"Punk," Yoongi muttered under his breath, shooting a glare at the younger boy, who rubbed the back of his head, still smirking slightly despite the admonishment.

Jimin shifted his focus. "Hey, by the way, did you end up finding a proper room for her?" he asked, turning towards Y/N with a curious gaze.

Yoongi leaned forward slightly. "Right, where did they stash GI Jane?"

Taehyung raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh shit, you haven’t heard?" he said with a smirk, "Namjoon had her moved to the attic."

The boys exchanged a knowing look.

Yoongi whistled softly, "You’re joking."

“I wish,” Tae replied.

Then, with a sly grin, Jimin added, "Well, someone’s going to be happy about that."

The three of them chuckled together, sharing a moment of amusement that. Y/N didn’t quite understand what they could possibly mean, yet she felt little inclination to probe further.

“Alright,” Yoongi suddenly said, rising to his feet with a glance at his phone. “I’d love to stay and have tea with you ladies, but I’m afraid I got some business to attend to,” he added, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “You know the drill, ord—”

“Orders are orders?” Y/N interjected, her eyebrow arched in defiance.

Yoongi paused to look at her, a hint of respect flickering in his eyes. “I like her,” he stated to his friends, before heading towards the door.

« Wait, are you going to the vault ?” Taehyung asked, suddenly up on his feet like a puppy eager for a walk.

“I am,” Yoongi confirmed. “You’re not.”

“But Hyung—” Taehyung started to protest.

“You’ve got a job here; can’t leave the girl alone, can you?” Yoongi cut him off, nodding towards Y/N.

Taehyung paused for a moment, before quickly turning his attention to Jimin, who already knew what was coming. “Jimin-ssi,” he began tenderly.

"No.” Jimin cut him off,

“-Please, » Taehyung insisted, "I’ll be super quick.”

But Jimin didn’t look convinced. “It’s gonna take more than that,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a content smirk.

Exhaling in frustration, Taehyung negotiated, “I’ll take your training shifts for a month.”

“Four,” Jimin countered without missing a beat.

“Three?” Taehyung bargained.

“Deal,” Jimin agreed finally.

Grinning triumphantly, Taehyung leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on Jimin’s head before hurrying out the door. Y/N watched the scene from the corner of her eye, slightly taken aback by the easy camaraderie among the boys, a stark contrast to the rigid hierarchy and stern discipline that characterized her own clan.

The room settled into an uneasy silence after Taehyung’s departure, the echo of the door shutting marking a palpable shift in the atmosphere.

Y/N returned her attention to her book, the quiet only disrupted by the occasional rustle of pages turning. Jimin watched her for a moment before finally breaking the stillness.

“It’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?” he commented, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he nodded towards the cover of the book in her hands.

The Count of Monte Cristo.

“Subtlety isn’t my forte,” Y/N responded without looking up, her voice even and composed.

Jimin chuckled softly, the sound lightening the mood. "What a refined way to make a point," he mused, settling more comfortably into his chair.

“Everyone loves a good escape story,” she remarked, “Vengeance and all.”

“Is that what you’re doing?” Jimin frowned in amusement, “Picking up some tips?”

Y/N finally looked up to meet his gaze steadily, "Ravens don't need tips when it comes to revenge," she countered, her tone lightly mocking. "Besides, had it been the case, I would've opted for something a little- bloodier,” she added thoughtfully. “Some Greek tragedy, perhaps."

Jimin's eyes narrowed slightly as he considered her words, a flicker of intrigue passing over his features. The idea seemed to both alarm and amuse him.

"Now, if you don’t mind," Y/N concluded, turning her attention back to her book with a definitive air.

However, words from their previous encounter lingered in her mind, unresolved. Distracted, it seemed the words she was reading might as well have been in French. After a moment, she gave in, her eyes drifting from the page to meet Jimin's once again. Her gaze was intense, laden with unspoken questions.

"What is it?" Jimin asked, noticing the change in her demeanor.

She wondered whether she should bring it up. "You said something," she began slowly, recalling the unsettling moment before she’d been dragged to meet Namjoon. "Back in the basement."

"I remember," he acknowledged, his voice steady.

The memory was sharp in her mind: his grip firm on her, fingers pressing into her jaw uncomfortably. "You may not remember my face," he had said, "but I certainly haven't forgotten yours, little bird."

She drew a deep breath, maintaining her composure. "I might have been playing a part down there, but my answer was honest," she stated clearly. "I don’t remember ever meeting you before."

“I’m not surprised,” he replied, a slight smirk appearing as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

Y/N's eyes, sharp and ever observant, caught a glimpse of something on his forearm. The fabric of his slightly rolled-up sleeve had shifted just enough to reveal it—a mark all too familiar to her.

It was the raven scar, the very same that marked the completion of the rigorous initiation within the Park clan. It was unmistakable, a sign of trials endured and loyalties bound.

He noticed her stare and followed her gaze to his arm.

"Y-you—" Y/N began, her voice faltering.

"I’m not a spy," Jimin quickly interjected, reading the suspicion in her eyes. "If that’s what you’re thinking."

"But- that’s—" she managed to say.

"I know what it is. » Jimin paused casually, “I did have to do it myself, after all." He nodded towards her own arm, acknowledging the similar mark that she bore. "Just as you had to do yours," he added, locking eyes with her.

Y/N unconsciously ran her finger along her own scar, tracing the line that symbolized so much more than just membership. She stared at him, clearly confused.

“Listen," he continued, “if you need to know anything, it’s that, far as I’m concerned, this ,” he casually pulled aside his collar to reveal the tattoo of the Kim clan emblazoned on his skin “is the only true mark of allegiance I bear.”

"But you..." Y/N began cautiously, glancing around as though fearful of being overheard.

"You can say it out loud” Jimin said casually, “it’s common knowledge around here.”

"You used to be a raven, then?" she asked directly.

Jimin smirked, mischief coloring his expression. "Well, kind of,” he confessed. “I guess I never technically completed the induction."

YN's brow furrowed in confusion. It was unheard of for Raven pledges to back out. In fact, it- never happened. You either got in, or you died trying. Suddenly, a memory clicked into place.

"The farmer boy," she murmured aloud, her voice tinged with realization.

His eyes met hers, and he flashed a knowing smirk. "In the flesh."

She remembered now. She must have been twelve at the time. A pledge, no older than 15, had vanished on the night of his induction. The clan had sent a whole militia to search for him, but the boy had disappeared without leaving a single trace. They assumed he’d somehow gotten himself killed.

"You didn’t have blonde hair back then," she observed.

"Yeah, well, a fugitive does what he must to survive," Jimin replied, running a hand through his platinum locks. "But I reckon it suits me, don't you agree?"

YN, still contemplating, ignored his remark. “They never did figure out what happened to you," she noted.

"It’s simple, really. I just made a break for it—headed south- well, as far south as my busted shoes would take me,” Jimin explained, “Ended up in Seoul.”

His voice took on a reflective tone as he thought back to those early days. It had been a daily struggle, filled with petty thefts and back-alley skirmishes. Things were rough, but nothing compared to the grim fate that awaited him up North.

That was until a significant encounter had changed everything. He vividly recalled the moment a black-haired boy with a distinctive tattoo on his neck had noticed him during a street fight, knife in hand, moving as if it were merely an extension of his body. The boy, though slightly younger than Jimin, had watched him defend himself with a calculated interest, a smirk slowly forming on his lips.

Impressed, he had approached Jimin immediately after the scuffle, casually extending an unexpected offer for food and shelter against some- off the books labor.

“And just like that," Jimin snapped his fingers, his eyes lighting up with the recollection, "my new chapter began."

“So, you’re telling me the Kims just— took you in?” she scoffed in disbelief. “Do they even know you’re a northern traitor?”

“Are you kidding? It’s my edge," Jimin countered with a hint of amusement. "They don’t get trained fighters like me on every street corner, not to mention my knowledge of the Park clan can always come in handy, especially in times like these.”

YN's expression hardened slightly at his words.

“So, you're a snitch” she shot back sharply, her disdain clear. “Surprised you didn’t join the rats. »

“Oh, come on, give me a break,” Jimin rolled his eyes at the insult. “Like you’re one to talk about loyalty? Didn’t you take off right after your fa—”

“I didn’t take off,” she snapped back, cutting him off sharply. Clearly, he had touched a sensitive nerve.

“What would you call it then?” Jimin pressed.

“I—” Y/N began, her voice faltering as she caught herself, the raw edge of her emotions nearly breaking through. She quickly regained her composure, straightening her posture as she held his gaze. “I don’t owe you any explanation,” she stated firmly, though Jimin noticed the white-knuckled grip she had on her book.

Jimin nonchalantly picked up his cup of tea, the steam curling lightly above it as he spoke. "Rumor has it you didn’t even make it to the funeral," he remarked, taking a casual sip. The observation was pointed, and he watched closely as Y/N's jaw clenched.

He had caught wind of it. After all, the news had echoed through the underworld back then, a tantalizing piece of gossip for those in the know. Park Sanghoon, the formidable leader of the Park clan and Y/N's father, had taken his last breath. Of course, his only son Jaebeom had been there to take over the operations; still, his daughter’s abrupt disappearance at such a critical juncture had been nothing short of an oddity.

The room fell into a heavy silence, the air thick with unspoken words. After a moment, Jimin set down his cup and met her eyes with a level gaze. "I would say I’m sorry,” he started, pausing deliberately, “about his passing, I mean."

YN's throat moved visibly as she swallowed, her face a mask of controlled emotions.

"But I’m really not," Jimin continued, his voice dropping slightly. "And I have a feeling you’re not that sorry either."

At his words, Y/N shot to her feet, her movements sharp and sudden, fists clenched at her sides. Her body radiated animosity, but a trace of something else flickered in her eyes.

"You don’t know shit," she spat before storming towards the door.

Jimin let out a heavy sigh. “You can’t just walk off on your own,” he called after her.

“Call the cops,” she snapped back, her voice echoing as she strode through the hall, her back stiff with defiance, "see what they have to say about it."

Hope you liked it. If some of you are intrigued or interested in finding out more, don't hesitate to interact and I'll start posting some more chapters! Also questions and remarks and feedback are welcome xxx

Some of you may be wondering when our second lead will appear... Well, fear not, for the smell of fresh kookies is coming from the kitchen I'm cooking in today.

Chapter 6

Masterlist

Taglist

@princess-sunshyn

@loumin908

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flowersandskeletons526 · 4 days ago

Text

"Figure It Out" - Warriors concept album fanfic

I said I was gonna do more with the polycule and dammit, I did! Little longer than I usually write for one-shots but I had to. Enjoy!

----------

It started years before Swan ever met Mercy. It being the crush.

It began with Ajax. Ajax, who was already well established as the resident hothead of the Warriors, even in the early days after Cleon found Swan under the boardwalk. She terrified Swan when they first met, loud and brash and quick to temper. She looked at Swan like she wanted her dead for the first few months, especially after Cleon named Swan as her second. Swan did her best to just avoid Ajax as much as possible until the death glares turned to bickering and the bickering turned to banter with just a few venomous barbs thrown in to keep it on brand.

She still remembered the first time Ajax truly smiled at her. They’d been going back and forth as usual, both in a good mood so it was limited to playful jabs. Ajax went to punch her in the shoulder, all in good fun, and she caught Ajax’s fist mid swing on instinct. Ajax had only seen her scrap a few times at that point and got a strange, curious look on her face. She threw a slow hook with no intention to actually connect. Swan caught the punch again and got her first look at what a real, happy, genuine grin looked like on the enforcer.

Maybe she lost some wrestling matches on purpose because she liked the way Ajax’s eyes lit up when she celebrated victory. Maybe she stared a little too long when she pinned Ajax, watching the way she laughed as she called her surrender. Maybe she thought that the late night chats and the play fights and the rare softness in Ajax’s expression when she looked at her could mean something, but in the end, she gave it up.

When Rembrandt arrived, she knew she’d made the right choice. She saw how hard Ajax fought for Rembrandt from the second she brought her home. She saw the way Rembrandt looked at Ajax with those wide, bright eyes, the way Ajax smiled at her so helplessly, how Rembrandt had Ajax wrapped around her finger from the very start. Swan still noticed the same things she always noticed about Ajax, but she didn’t let herself linger on it how she used to. She was content knowing Ajax had found someone who made her so happy.

And then she began to understand exactly how Rembrandt had gotten such a hold on Ajax.

To start, Rembrandt was objectively gorgeous. No one would disagree on that fact. But she had a subtle sort of draw to her, too. Swan first noticed it when Rembrandt made her sit for a portrait, claiming she was the only Warrior that Rembrandt had yet to finish drawing. Something about Rembrandt’s quiet, observant gaze studying her and how the artist reached over to tilt her chin up or move a lock of hair left her with such a severe internal panic, she avoided Rembrandt for days afterwards.

Rembrandt also had a funny habit of forgetting the concept of personal space when she got excited. Normally this was directed toward Ajax or sometimes Cowgirl, who had no concept of personal space period, but not always. When they watched any of Rembrandt’s comfort movies together, she would explain in intense detail how artistically flawless she found certain shots or sequences and lean into Swan almost the same way she leaned into Ajax, tucked under her arm and fidgeting with Swan’s fingers while she talked. Swan couldn’t forget the feeling of Rembrandt’s fingers intertwined with hers.

When it was the three of them together, whether they were hanging out at home or out on a mission, she took notice of how the couple looked at each other. She noticed it was the same way she looked at both of them. And she shoved that shit into the deepest recesses of her mind because falling for one friend was bad, and falling for two was worse, and falling for the two of them that were already in a relationship with each other was just about the worst feeling in the world.

The night from hell further cemented her belief that those feelings would never crop up again. Meeting Mercy all but guaranteed it.

She was happier with Mercy than she had been in a long time. They clicked in a way Swan never thought she would with anyone after giving up on her past feelings. Mercy made her feel safe and protected in a manner Swan exclusively reserved for everyone but herself. She was loud and headstrong and excitable and loving and Swan couldn’t help but love her. Through all the turmoil and trauma and infighting after that night, Mercy was always there to be her rock, even before she could admit to herself that she needed one.

Life was good with her in it. She had Mercy, and Ajax and Rembrandt had each other, and after everything calmed down and they were as normal as they could be after Cyrus’s summit, life was good.

So why did her heart still hurt so much when she saw Ajax and Rembrandt together?

She didn’t really notice it until she was sent out on a tagging mission with Rembrandt. It had been raining for the past week so they had a lot of catching up to do. Months had passed since Rembrandt had that awful fall when she and Mercy got jumped, and as much as the tagger would refute the accusation, she still wasn’t back to the level she used to be. She rushed through her work, determined to get as much done in one night despite Swan’s insistence that she slow down. Coming down the ladder from the fire escape, she slipped.

She never hit the ground. Swan caught her, already prepared to help her down, but Rembrandt broke. Pulling Rembrandt into an alley, she held her tight for a long time, whispering gentle reassurances as Rembrandt covered her mouth to choke back violent sobs. She buried her face against Swan’s chest and clung to her with everything she had.

“Sorry,” she whispered when she calmed down enough to speak. She still hadn’t let go. “I’m sorry. I’m okay. I’m fine.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Swan cooed, combing her fingers through Rembrandt’s hair. “Let’s get you home.”

She lifted Rembrandt in her arms and carried her the whole way back to her and Ajax’s apartment. Ajax came bolting down the stairs when Swan rang the buzzer. She took Rembrandt from Swan, even though Rembrandt insisted she was okay to walk now, and Swan followed the two of them back up to their apartment. She lingered awkwardly by the door while Ajax talked to Rembrandt and made sure she really was okay, because Ajax had always been more worrier than warrior when it came to her. Rembrandt insisted she just wanted to go to bed.

Wordlessly, she went to Swan and pulled her into a long, lingering hug, hiding her face in the crook of Swan’s shoulder. Swan tried her best to ignore the fact that she really, really didn’t want to let go. After Rembrandt left and they heard the bedroom door close, Ajax turned to Swan, brow furrowed and eyes downcast.

“Cleon’s gonna kill me if I leave either of you two alone right now,” she mumbled, “so… you want a beer?”

They sat close beside each other on the couch with their drinks, closer than they’d been comfortable enough to in a long time. Swan took a deep breath.

“Has she… Is she still having nightmares about it?” she asked haltingly.

“Not often,” Ajax said. “She hasn’t spaced out in a long time, either.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah. Thanks for getting her home.” Ajax swallowed hard and clenched her jaw, turning away from Swan. “Listen. I know things haven’t been easy since, y’know, since that night. And I know I haven’t really done anything but make it worse. I wanted to say thanks for not hating me after everything and… I’m sorry.”

Swan blinked. “You’re apologizing?”

“Yo, fuck you, man! I’m trying to be emotionally intelligent for once and you-”

“No, no, wait, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.” She watched Ajax’s expression shift, her features softening as she leaned her head back. She still had a scar above her eye from when Swan busted her eyebrow open in a fight. She deserved it, sure, but it didn’t stop Swan from regretting it now. “I haven’t done much to make it easier, either.”

“You did better than me.” Ajax shook her head and took a long pull from her drink. “How’s Mercy?”

“She’s good. Cleon’s talking about making her the head scout.”

“That’d be a good fit for her. Girl’s quick.”

“Yep.”

“She treats you good, right?”

That threw Swan for a loop. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, she does.”

“Good.” Ajax took Swan’s hand, squeezing it tight. She met Swan’s eyes. Swan’s chest felt hot and tight. “I’m… I’m glad you… I’m glad you finally have someone who makes you happy.”

Swan could tell Ajax wanted to say something completely different. She’d known her long enough to understand that. She just couldn’t fathom what else Ajax could want to say.

“And, y’know,” Ajax continued with a light tone, “if she didn’t treat you right, I’d have to fight her, and that would suck because she’s actually pretty cool.”

Swan laughed and tried to forget about it. But in the end, she couldn’t.

She couldn’t ignore the way Ajax softened after that night. She couldn’t ignore the lack of venom in her voice anymore, even when she was truly pissed off at something Swan did. She couldn’t ignore how both Ajax and Rembrandt seemed a lot touchier than normal, always reaching over to absentmindedly hold her hand or put an arm around her as they walked if Mercy wasn’t doing that already. She noticed Rembrandt smiling at her more often when she thought Swan wasn’t looking. She noticed Ajax always looking away or leaving the room entirely when Mercy would kiss Swan in front of her.

She noticed all those old feelings that had been buried for years come brutally flooding back and she absolutely hated herself for it. She just prayed she could get them to go away before Mercy found out.

In the end, Mercy figured it out on her own.

Sitting in their bedroom one night, waiting for Swan to get ready for bed, she asked, “How long?”

Swan frowned as she turned to look at her, her shirt halfway over her head. “How long what?”

“How long have you liked Ajax and Rembrandt?”

Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What are you talking about?” Swan demanded, her pitch betraying her. She hated how high her voice sounded when she lied. “I don’t… I’ve never… I don’t have feelings for them. I love you, I would never-”

“Swan, stop.” Mercy flashed a soft, calming smile. “I’m not upset. I just want to know.”

Swan’s throat tightened. Her eyes stung as her pulse hammered in her ears.

“I thought it would go away,” she choked out. “After they’d been together for a while. It was a silly crush from a long time ago, that’s all. With all the fucking fighting after the peace meeting and Ajax and I trying to kill each other and Rembrandt’s accident, I thought… I was over it. I’m trying to get over it. And besides, even if I ever wanted to say something, they’re fucking engaged now. What if I fuck that up?”

Mercy took a deep breath. “I like them, too.”

Swan’s world rocked. “You do?”

“Yeah,” Mercy whispered. “Like, a lot.”

And suddenly it all clicked.

When Rembrandt had leaned in to light her cigarette off Mercy’s because her lighter was dead and Mercy ended up with a blush that lasted all day.

When the four of them were out together and Swan and Rembrandt had gone to get drinks, how they came back to the corner booth and Ajax and Mercy were sitting a lot closer than before and chatting idly with easy smiles on their faces.

The lingering hugs. The gentle brush of an arm or hand as they walked. The fact that Rembrandt’s sketchbook was suddenly exclusively Mercy’s portrait and Ajax hadn’t had an unkind word about her in weeks and the looks and the compliments and everything.

Swan flopped onto the bed beside Mercy and covered her face with her hands. “What do we do?” she groaned.

“I have no fucking clue,” Mercy said with a sad laugh. “Do you think they like us back?”

“Do you think they do?”

“I don’t know! You’ve known them longer than me! Is this how they are with the others?”

“No! It’s how they are with each other!” Swan uncovered her face and turned to look at Mercy. “Run it back. So you and I are dating. Those two are dating. We like them and they might possibly like us and all four of us have just been pining for weeks.”

“This is confusing.”

“No shit.”

Mercy inhaled sharply. “Do we tell them?”

And that was how Swan ended up at Rembrandt’s door about to make either the best or worst decision of her life.

“Everything’s okay, right?” Rembrandt asked as she sat beside Swan on the couch. Cleon had Ajax out on a mission so it was just the two of them in the apartment. “I mean, you just said you had something to talk about over the phone, so I was a little worried.”

“Sorry about being cryptic,” Swan mumbled. “I, um…”

Just say it, Swan thought. Rip the bandaid off. You can do this. You took on an entire city trying to kill you and got home alive, you can confess your feelings for your best friend.

“I like you!” she blurted out. If she and Ajax had one thing in common, it was that neither were very good at words. That had always been Rembrandt’s forte, but now she couldn’t stop the multiple years’ worth of repressed feelings spewing from her mouth. “You and Ajax. I have for years. Since, like, pretty soon after you joined, and even longer for her, and I tried to ignore it because you two have always been so happy with each other and I didn’t want to fuck up that or our friendship or the crew if I made a mistake. But after everything, the feelings still haven’t gone away and I literally cannot get it off my mind. I’ve tried but I can’t. I just keep looking at you two and seeing everything I want and I… I couldn’t stop thinking about it all.”

Rembrandt stared at her with wide eyes, her lips slightly parted. She didn’t move a muscle for what felt like an eternity. She took a sharp breath to say something, closed her mouth, and finally, just when Swan was beginning to regret being born, she asked slowly, “Does Mercy know?”

“Mercy is the one who suggested I tell you. She likes you guys, too.”

She barely finished the sentence before Rembrandt tackled her onto the couch.

She ended up on her back with Rembrandt straddling her, pinning her down by her shoulders. “It took Mercy telling you for you to finally figure this out?!” she exclaimed. “How are you worse than Ajax when it comes to feelings? I’ve been trying to get you two to figure your crushes out for years!”

“You knew?!”

“Jesus Christ, yes! Fuck!” Rembrandt leaned back, still on top of Swan but letting her prop herself up on her elbows. “I knew it would take Ajax a minute to actually understand what she was feeling but with you, I…” She shook her head. “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want either of you two to feel weird about it. I thought that maybe one of you would say something and we could at least start a conversation about it but you never did. And then with Mercy showing up and you being so happy… I thought you moved on. You really still feel this way?”

“I never stopped feeling this way,” Swan admitted. She hesitated. “Ajax likes me back?”

“I think Ajax liked you long before I joined the Warriors. She just didn’t know how to say it to you. Why do you think I made the first move when she and I got together?”

“And you-”

“Uh, yeah! Have you not been listening to me?” Rembrandt raked her hands through her hair. “Shit. This is the gayest thing that’s ever happened to me and I figured out I liked girls when I was ten. What the hell.”

Swan laughed. She flopped back on the couch, and Rembrandt leaned forward to rest her forehead on Swan’s chest. “I have to tell her now, don’t I?” Swan asked.

“You don’t have to. I would like it if you did,” Rembrandt said. She lifted her head enough to look Swan in the eye. “I don’t know what’s going to happen with this, but I’d like if we could maybe talk about it, at least? The four of us?”

Swan nodded. “I’d like that, too.”

“Ajax is supposed to be home later tonight, if you want to talk to her now. You could call Mercy over?”

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s do that.”

Swan called Mercy and recounted the conversation. Rembrandt gave her privacy for that. Mercy was ecstatic; Swan could almost hear her grin over the phone. After Swan ended the call, Rembrandt came up behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist. Swan turned in her embrace and returned it, and they held each other close for a long, long time before moving to the couch. Rembrandt tucked her head under Swan’s chin, clinging to her like she was dreaming and might end it if she let go.

When Mercy arrived, Rembrandt was the first to get up. She launched herself at Mercy and practically glued herself to her as Mercy laughed. Mercy tangled her fingers in Rembrandt’s hair and held her tight, swaying gently. Rembrandt pulled back, pressing their foreheads together, and Swan just barely heard her whisper, “Thank you.”

The three of them sat cuddled up to each other on the couch while they waited for Ajax. Swan and Rembrandt told Mercy old stories from the earlier days of the Warriors: successful missions, happy times hanging out, crazy adventures they’d been sent on. Mercy would periodically butt in with the ever present question, “You guys didn’t realize it then?” And Swan would blush and look away while Rembrandt laughed.

Rembrandt got up to meet Ajax once she finally came home. Ajax gave her a confused look upon seeing Swan and Mercy on the couch, and Rembrandt replied with a gentle kiss and a nod towards Swan as she stood. A tiny part of Swan regretted this, seeing the way they acted so softly with each other and had an entire conversation with just their eyes, but Mercy squeezed her hand and she knew she was making the right choice.

Ajax stepped up to her and waved her towards the bedroom. Swan stood awkwardly in the center of the room as Ajax closed the door. Hyping herself up in her head, she decided on her course of action. She’d never been good with words, and neither had Ajax, so she had to approach this differently than she did with Rembrandt.

“So,” Ajax said, “did you need to talk to me or-”

Swan surged forward and kissed her.

Ajax froze. Swan thought maybe she came on too strong and leaned back. But then Ajax was pulling Swan against her by her hips and returning the kiss just as fiercely, and Swan was tugging at Ajax’s braids and biting her lip and Ajax’s strong grip was on her waist and keeping her as close as possible and wait, wait, this was getting a bit handsy for a confession. Maybe rewind a bit.

Swan moved her hands to Ajax’s collar and pushed her back just far enough to break the kiss. “I like you,” she said breathlessly. “So does Mercy. And Rem likes us back and says you do, too.”

Ajax blinked, still stunned. Her brow furrowed. She grabbed Swan’s shoulders and held her at arm’s length to look her in the eye. “That’s what this has been?!” she asked a little hysterically, and Swan thought it sounded like a question meant more for herself than anything. “Like, all of this? That’s what this is?”

“Took me a minute to figure it out, too. Rembrandt’s been waiting for us, apparently. I didn’t want to fuck anything up if you guys didn’t feel the same way so I never said shit.”

“When did… did you… when did you know? Wait, hang on, Mercy likes me? Mercy likes us?”

“She’s the one who suggested I tell you guys. She figured out I still like you two and called me on it.”

“Why didn’t you say something before now?”

“You guys were happy. Why didn’t you say something?”

Ajax thought for a moment. She looked around the room, anywhere but at Swan, and then sat on the bed and tugged Swan down to sit next to her. “Kinda figured you hated me,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Swan forced herself to keep her eyes off Ajax’s scar. “Can’t deny we’ve spent the last few years mostly beating on each other. I mean, yeah, I enjoy the sparring and the play fights, but I didn’t know if that meant to you what it felt like to me. And then after… after that night, all the times we’ve tried to kill each other since then, and you being so happy with Mercy.”

“You being so happy with Rembrandt. Getting engaged.”

“I thought something was starting between her and Mercy. Kinda hoped…”

“Hoped she’d bring it up?”

“We’ve all just been waiting for the others to say something, huh?”

“Apparently.”

“Can’t believe the three of us never did anything about it. Can’t believe Mercy broke it out of us.”

“Only took a few years.”

Ajax angled her body in towards Swan. She took a deep breath, held it, and faced her. “I saw the way Rem looked at you, sometimes. And the way you looked at her. I thought I was reading into things too much.”

“We’re kinda dumbasses, aren’t we?”

“Leave it to the artist to figure out our feelings before we do. She’s always been good at that.” Ajax tangled her fingers in Swan’s hair and brought her forward to rest their foreheads together. Swan gripped her shoulder tight, fingers digging into her skin, because they were still themselves and couldn’t help a minor play fight, even now. “We’re gonna have to talk this through. The four of us.”

“Rembrandt said the same thing. Should we go tell them?”

Ajax flashed a crooked smile, gentler and kinder than she’d been in a long time. Swan saw in her then that woman that had first smiled at her, the woman that always had her back even when they fought, the woman who made it clear that no matter how much they whaled on each other, they would never let anyone else get the chance to do the same. “Probably,” she chuckled, “before they think we’re fighting.”

As Swan stood, she pulled Ajax into one last hug. “We need to get better about feelings,” she murmured.

“Yeah. We’ll work on it.”

They walked into the living room hand in hand. Mercy and Rembrandt were still curled into each other on the couch, Rembrandt resting her head on Mercy’s shoulder and speaking quietly against her neck, Mercy laughing as she smiled so helplessly back at her. That was the look when it came to Rembrandt: the half-lidded eyes, the smile just turning into a grin, the utter devotion ready to follow her anywhere. Swan and Ajax had worn that look for a long time and Swan understood now exactly how down bad Mercy was. Thank god she’d had the nerve to say something.

They looked up as Swan and Ajax entered. Swan caught the flash of fear that sparked in Rembrandt’s eyes as she extricated herself from Mercy’s embrace, flexing her hands at her side. Mercy stood behind her and put an arm around her waist in support.

Swan and Ajax shared a look, smiled, and lifted their intertwined hands to show their partners. Rembrandt laughed in delight as she jumped on them, putting an arm around their necks and pulling them down to meet her, tears of happiness starting in her eyes. Ajax kissed the top of her head and then leaned over to kiss Swan’s temple, as well. Mercy hung back, letting the three of them have their long overdue moment together. Rembrandt reached over and dragged Mercy into the middle of the hug, pulling her down for a quick kiss that left her red in the face and stuttering. Swan couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay,” Rembrandt said, a little breathless from laughing, “seriously, we will need to talk about this. It can’t be a one and done, everything’s perfect type thing.”

“Agreed,” said Mercy.

“That being said…”

Ajax grinned. “You guys want to stay over tonight?”

Swan and Mercy said in unison, “Yes, please!”

#writing #fanfic #warriors concept album #warriors musical #ajax warriors #rembrandt warriors #swan warriors #mercy warriors #ajax x rembrandt #swan x mercy #remjax #swercy #ajax x rembrandt x swan x mercy #polycule #mutual pining #repressed feelings #fluff #only fluff

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plusvanity · 1 month ago

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Would you say that people like Varg & Faust are truly, honestly capable of forming genuine connection with people? They are both married and have children for example, but let's take a look at Varg: recently he began to 'create a wall' between his wife and him, trying to find small flaws and/or draw differences that seem harmless but very clearly will become more and more specific with time (this time it was about their respective tidiness); or for example saying how his family is happy and attaching only a picture of his children and him in front of a car but no 'happy' wife in the picture.

This is one of the most thought-provoking questions I've been asked.

It's absolutely impossible to qualify or calculate the capability of loving and there is a different definition for all of the love types out there.

To refer to 'love' more concretely, I will take Sternberg's triangular love theory and try to apply this to these individuals.

I already talked about how I see Varg and Marie's marriage and what type of love they possibly experience here: https://www.tumblr.com/plusvanity/760583588308746240/hii-any-thoughts-on-varg-and-maries-marriage?source=share

And I highly suggest you read this for a wider insight.

But to sum it up, contrary to popular beliefs, narcissists can be indeed capable of experiencing love, but they do it in a certain way. People with ASPD are less probably to experience standard love because of their inability to emotionally connect. However, this doesn't mean that they cannot have marriages and kids. From what I've read about ASPD, their love comes in the form of respect for their partner, rather than that overwhelming feeling of infatuation. They happen to meet someone who checks for all the boxes in their head and they see those people as valuable, worth or respect and worth of building something together, so to speak. It's more of a rational than emotional decision. I hope I can make myself clearer.

Narcissists, on the other hand, are able to experience the emotional attachment, colloquially known as a 'deeper' type of love, but they are limited by their own narcissistic/ egocentric nature.

I don't know anything about Faust's marriage and personal life so I won't waste time trying to speculate on this when I have Vikernes who's so obvious in how he feels in his own marriage.

Initially, I thought that Varg reached 'Consummate Love' with Marie, that one in which intimacy, passion and commitment are altogether present. But as time progresses and according to his latest Tweets, he seems to lose the 'passion' component of his relationship. This is something that sometimes happen in long lasting marriages, and then you are left only with commitment and intimacy. This is called 'Companionate Love'.

When it comes to narcissists, one of their biggest issues is their tendency to get easily bored. When they have all they want from their partner (admiration, narcissistic supply, kinky sex, etc), they get bored and they start directing their attention to something new. This is also what people with ASPD experience.

Loving a narcissist is not hard, but keeping a narcissist entertained it is much harder.

I have no doubt that Marie loves him deeply, and so his children do because they don't have any other reference for how a father figure should be like, but the love that Varg gives back is unfortunately not the equivalent of what his family deserves. And this is not because he's doing it on purpose, this is because his narcissistic condition forces him to 'love himself more than anybody else'. It's a coping mechanism. You end up having NPD when you're not loved as a child or when the love you receive is shallow. After all, we give back what we receive in your life.

Because of his narcissistic nature, that he can't control, he ends up slowly 'pulling away' from the family/ the nucleus that he created. It's a painful process that happens in the background of your mind. You see yourself as being 'better than anyone else', even better than those you love and you can't help it, it's a mental illness. I don't try to make Vikernes seem less of an asshole, I try to explain how this works because I myself struggle with the same issue sometimes. The urge to 'seem better' comes in waves, sometimes it stays with you forever. I can tell you for certain that he counts his wife's mistakes, not to make a big deal about it necessarily, but to keep a personal score.

The love that comes from a narcissist can be mean sometimes because of their trivial tendency to put themselves above others. Those pictures on Twitter with Varg and Marie's desks compared denotes a teasing remark, it hides (but not really) the fact that he's better than her. As a side note: he's also a huge misogynist, but this discussion is for another time.

You are very right about these minuscule examples, but the devil is the details.

Narcissists are absolutely terrified of intimacy and they see people on a hierarchy. Either above them (and they have to get there) or below them (peasants), almost never on the same level with them.

A marriage with a narcissist who has no clue what he does wrong (like Vikernes) is in many ways a failed and unhappy marriage. Things can only be functional if a narcissist is self-aware of his condition and willing to change. Needless to say, this is more rare than the chance you will see a lion in real life.

In theory, NPD people are more likely to develop genuine connections, but they rarely do. It's not their fault, it's the condition itself.

Varg is bored and unhappy because he obtained everything he wanted and he wants more and more. I feel bad for those children for many reasons that I explained in other asks, but it is what it is.

To give back love, you should feel it first and if you never/ barely did, it's very, very hard to give your partner what they deserve. To end with a bit of a positive note, there is hope for narcissists only if they are willing to work on themselves. I can tell from experience.

#ask response #varg vikernes

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