#i need to draw him MORE because i keep only drawing him with mortis and i feel bad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dododan · 2 years ago

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Masterpost

For now, it's so workmanlike, because I like to keep things in order.

I also need to work out a few things technically~

#myasks - a hashtag for your questions! Don't be shy and ask me anything you want! I'll try to answer if it doesn't involve spoilers for e.g. Hibernation or another story I'm writing/drawing.

#dododanart - just a hashtag for my art

Holly and her world

Someday I will come up with a better title for this project. This is my main project that I am working on. The main thing I'm doing right now is constructing a story for Asha's family and creating a plan for the comic. From time to time there may be smaller drawings from this project.

#holly the pixie

Holly is a little monster who wanders between worlds. Some may spot her flitting between buildings or trees. Sometimes they will spot a strange door that disappears as soon as the goblin disappears behind it. Those few who know her can only say that she has been looking for someone for a long time. No one knows who exactly, but there is a big secret behind it.

#ash-kore - my spider and his story

Ash-kore is a hybrid. It has the blood of upper class demons in it as well as the blood of spider demons. He was destined for a future alongside loving parents who would bring a new order to the demon world - equality, justice and caring. Sadly, Ash lost everything in one night, and the hope of all demons for a better life vanished. Years later, the greatest rebellion in the history of the demon kingdom began. According to rumours, it is led by a lost prince who wants to continue his parents' work. Only none of them know that behind the enlightened ideas is a desire for bloody revenge.

#holly&ash-kore - comics/drawings when Holly met Ash-kore

What can happen when a little goblin with powerful and rare powers meets a spider who is hungry for the blood of its enemies?

Fandoms:

#Rick and Morty

Only drawings from Rick and Morty. Maybe some theory on the series occasionally. Interest in this series is revived every time there is a new season. So far, nothing new is appearing here.

#HazbinHotel

Drawings and my crazy theories and ideas to explain the plot. I have some more drawings in mind as well as rearranging the story of my OC - Mari. This is one of the projects I am currently working on.

#cult of the lamb

Drawings and stories on the history of my worship. I have an idea for a series of short comics and short stories. At the moment is my new hyperfixation, because I can't tear myself away from the game. That said, I'm treating this project as a side project, so things won't appear regularly.

Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles:

#rottmnt - common arts with ROTTMNT

#hibernation - the hashtag I will occupy when I start drawing the comic book. My interest in ROTTMNT has dimmed a bit, but I want to finish the comic first and foremost. No matter what happens the comic will be finished and this is the main project I am working on.

Masterpost "Hibernation"

When the boys were tiny he took them everywhere with him. He was afraid to leave them alone, but they were growing very fast, so he started looking for some more permanent shelter for them. Unfortunately, as a former celebrity who had spent the last decade of his life in the Hidden City, he didn’t really know where he could look for any bearable place to live. For the first few years, he managed to find abandoned buildings - such as an abandoned bowling alley or closed garages. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much luck and they had to change their hiding places quite often. Splinter loves his boys very much and this cannot be disputed, but what can a person who has never even looked after a pet in his life know about raising children?

Splinter tries his best, but sometimes he makes mistakes and feels overwhelmed by the weight of his past. Unfortunately, the consequences of these mistakes can backfire on those he cares about most - his sons.

Splinter will have to face the consequences of his mistakes, which put him in a situation no parent wants to be in.

#rottmnt MuZA - my AU. The idea was inspired by the game Project Zomboid, but somehow the enthusiasm for creating AU dimmed. Maybe it will come back, maybe not, but for now it is an abandoned project. But if anyone is curious, I have a written story for the brothers as a list of events. I can make it available if there is interest.

What would the apocalypse look like if the ninja turtles had to face mutant zombies instead of Krangs? A mysterious virus has spread around the world, turning humans and yokai into monsters. The Hamato family has not yet recovered from their battle with Shredder, and they face another challenge. Surviving the end of the world.

Undertale:

#guardiantale - My au Presents the story before the events of the game. The story is already written, but I am slowly translating it into English. Chapters will appear every Saturday at 6pm.

"Katharina is an ordinary girl who is very stubborn. She always pursues her goal. Anyone who knows her can tell that she is very persistent. But this trait is not always a good thing. Kath found this out the hard way when she fell into the Underworld. From now on, she will have to somehow survive in a place full of monsters that have no sympathy for humans. Will she be able to survive in this place? Or will one of the monsters get their way and give her soul to the king?"

Spider-verse:

#arachnite - For the time being, I will not be involved in this project, but it is not completely abandoned. I will return to it after the release of the next part of the film.

"Nicolas also known as Arachnite. An amazing, beautiful and brilliant boy with the powers of a spider (as he likes to say about himself). He gained his powers by accident and decided to become a hero because it looks like an interesting occupation. At least until he got into trouble and Spider-man had to rescue him."

#dododanart #rottmnt #hibernation #guardiantale #rottmnt MuZA #holly the pixie #ash-kore #holly&ash-kore #rottmnt and mutant zombie apocalypse #arachnite

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hexedrosel-arts · 5 months ago

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A Guide on parasitic relationships caused by failed rituals(and how to tell if your friends are in one)

Warning: brief talk about limb loss

“Set it down right there please! Please popcorn head, you have the arms, and I have the voice”

Ray only nodded, adjusting an old camera to face Honor, while giving enough distance so Ray could also be seen when they started their little project.

“The recording has a timer before it starts so press the button, and come over here! I need my favorite example of…” Honor trailed off, swaying herself as she tried to find the right words. “My favorite example of… a very lovely person who does their best!”

Ray quickly wrote,

“Even when they can’t speak and are the reason you don’t have arms?��“I asked you to do that! Now get over here we have a guide to make!”

The camera blinking red light was distracting, but Ray didn’t need to speak, just draw examples of what Honor needed. Though Ray could get away with just drawing both of them.

“So the first thing to tell if your friends have gone through a failed ritual is what I call ‘Dead Days’. Your friends or whoever you’re considered about will go through days were they don’t do anything, not in a depression since but more of this person is a corpse. A glassy eyed look, cold body, maybe smells rotting, and sometimes they suffer from rigor mortis while being alive and your person is going through a dead day! They usually recover the next day, but to keep your person alive you do need to feed and bathe them, make sure they are actually alive though, they should still have a heartbeat or attempt to speak.”

Ray remembers the time Honor went through her first dead day. Ray was never bothered, already being dead had some perks, but Honor was alive for the longest time and then she was stuck to her bed, which was nothing more than a purple blanket on a metal floor, unable to scream or cry. Ray was lucky to be on one his live days(he never knew the difference but there was one in Honor’s eyes) when the first one happened, other days though-

“If you suspect 2 people in your friend group have failed a ritual, dead days are a great sign, sometimes they both have dead days, assuming they were both a part of the ritual. Dead days are important as it’s the ritual trying to take its sacrifice or the person who failed the ritual into the ground. If the person you are checking on starts experiencing dead days more and more, know that your person may start showing some new symptoms.”

Ray was drawing something, a person, maybe two people. The hardest part about making the guide was showing what could happen at the end, the melding of the body, or the wound in the heart. Honor was still talking about the starting signs, going into the corpse state was just a start.

“Now some people get really excited, almost becoming the human version of the sun. And sometimes they get down, really really down, that is because the parasitism is setting in!”

“Is it parasitism? It’s more of both people feeding off each other's life force to remain in limbo.”

“I think that counts as parasitism, it’s mutual though! But what happens is that the two people change emotions on the daily, as one of the more obvious symptoms. One person can be super happy one day and a downer the next while the other person goes through the reverse. Of course it can be that both are feeling nothing or everything as well, but emotions going haywire is a symptom, but not as concerning as the other ones.”

Honor usually had happy moments, her emotions are tied to the fact she was alive, alive before she followed Ray’s writing. She wasn’t mad at him, he wanted to help her and was willing, they both just… didn’t know back then. They’re still young, forever young, but not as oblivious. Ray does emote, but he uses his sketchbook and Honor to show how he feels better than what his body could do. Honor smiles, frowns, she shows all the checks, other than arm movements, but she manages better than Ray does. When her emotions get positive and negative, she gets really bad. Ray remembers when Honor found he was talking to another girl, the emotion hyper drive had caused several kicks to the chest and then tears that Ray was sure could burn anyone with heart at how genuine they were.

Too bad Ray doesn’t have one.

“When it starts getting really really bad, decay starts! Where it starts is random. Ray-ray drew this out because we - thankfully - don’t have a body to show you so we made an image based off of our- research!”

They did have a body, two in fact. The drawing Ray used was of himself, with all the notable things that showed himself removed, in fact if you were to see Ray remove his sweater you would see the open chest, complete with ribs, maggots, and no organs. Honor’s decay was more advanced, it started with her limbs, arms were removed because she ‘couldn’t feel them anymore’ and then her legs started decaying, still feeling, Honor could not bear to rid herself of them, so she had them bandaged, over and over again. Right now she had covered her legs with a long skirt, whoever they were making this guide for did not need to know that both people in front of the camera knew all of the symptoms and how to deal with them due to personal experience.

“The decay tends to relax and pause some days, dead days though, have the decay increase tenfold, usually people do not make it through the decaying symptom. If your person has been decaying, unless you have embalming ingredients and medical equipment with you on the regular, your person is not going to make it. If they do manage to-”

“They are either dead or have something else supernatural going on.”

Honor stopped talking the moment Ray wrote out his words, her eyes bore into him, he could see her getting bloodshot. Before calming down and smiling again at the camera.

“Yes, there is that. Or their parasitic partner refuses to let them leave this mortal coil. Now there is one way to stop this limbo from continuing. This only applies to the people who have been a part of the failed ritual, so if you’re using this guide for a friend, make sure they hear this part!”

The drawing Ray had was bloody and brutal, truly what he was feeling. He could see underneath his sketchbook that Honor was utterly disturbed by it for a brief moment. She shifted her head to cover the image, her short hair and the giant ribbon blocked Ray’s vision of the camera.

“Hopefully not as bloody as what Ray-ray showed, but yeah if one person in the ritual kills the other, stabbing through the heart to be specific, the person gains their life back, any decay will disappear. At the cost of another person, we haven’t found any other ways to remove the parasitic relationship of the failed ritual, if we do, it will be added to this portion of our supernatural guides. Ciao!”

Ray pressed the camera button again, turning it off. Honor sighed and removed her skirt to change into the one she liked, a rather normal skirt that went up to her knees, but it showed her bandages. The ribbon in her hair moved quickly, adjusting the skirt and the odd cover she had on her neck to cover her arms- or lack thereof.

“Popcorn head, do you think people will understand what I said?”

Ray could hear the tears in her voice, she was starting to hiccup.

“Of course they will, when this recording is refined the world won’t go through what we did.”

Ray meant the confusion, the blood, the scratches that marked his face and chest, and her arms and legs, he was unsure if she understood what he meant.

If the ribbon coming in to hold him close and hug him meant anything, she did. She always tried to, even knowing that both of them can’t die, it was his fault that she couldn’t pass peacefully. That she couldn’t meet her brother, and the possibility with the way she looks now, her brother would never recognize her.

But he could help her make a guide so others could pass when they couldn’t.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#hexed writing #undeadandhexedchildren #they are my sweet babeys #whose relationship is not the best #just two confused kids who are desperate for escape #even if that means hurting others in the way #hexedandundeadchildren

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crystalelemental · 1 year ago

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Reddit has had a lot of new players come in this month, so apparently the Legends Arceus is working really well. But on the other hand, now I have to get into arguments with people again about what’s best for starting players. Specifically, the whole “You should pick SS Blue from Victory Road.”

NO! God, I hate when people do this.

SS Blue isn’t that good for a starting player. By modern standards he’s a defensive tank with zero healing potential. “But he’s so bulky, bro!” Yeah, so is SS Morty, pull him tomorrow it’s worth it I promise. Even without SS Morty, just pick BP Morty as your first draw. Same defensive buffing but better because both defenses at once, Potion for healing, and goddamned Astonish for flinch rate, with a much easier time investing in him. Yes I am saying BP Morty is better than SS Blue. I’ll say all kinds of defensive supports are better than SS Blue. Dawn is better than SS Blue! She’s got built-in Vigilance at a time when you don’t have lucky cookies, and a Full Restore, she’s far more effective than Blue at physical tanking.

I think the main problems are

(1) Memories of a bygone era. SS Blue used to be top dog. He used to compete. Nowadays he doesn’t really. He’s okay at best. But this nostalgic sense of Genwunnerism is the same shit that resulted in people claiming SS Kris was worse than him a year ago, in the most deranged take to date. He’s just not that good anymore, bro.

(2) Failure to recall that this is a 1/5 investment. New players don’t have candy. New players can’t throw gems at an older unit who’s not available anywhere else. New Players get this one copy, and make the most of it. SS Blue, at 1/5, is absolute garbage. Zero healing. Zero. Cannot heal you at all. They’re also recalling bulk from an EX perspective, and it’s like...man, they don’t have those resources. And SS Blue is not who I’d pick first if I needed an EX supporter. It’s the same issue as people who are advocating SS Red over SS Leaf. They recall an SS Red that was instantly 3/5 and EX because he was the biggest shit the game had at the time. 1/5 SS Red does not melt off-type stages. He barely competes.

All this to say, for a starting player...man, the answer is SS Leaf no contest.

All three of these idiots are getting benched at higher level play anymore. Grid expansions can put SS Red back on the map, but that hasn’t happened yet, so it’s unreliable, especially since he is effectively a free unit now, and they don’t take kindly to those. But for a starting player, with no resources to improve move level or to EX? Leaf wins every time.

What does SS Blue functionally accomplish for a starting player? Is he going to single-handedly carry a Gauntlet stage? Not without sufficiently competent strikers behind him, and even then the lack of any healing is going to put pressure on him. Keep in mind that Safety Net only works when he takes sync, which is generally a waste if he’s not EX. And he’s sure as hell not handling CS without good offensive partners.

What does SS Red functionally accomplish? His 1/5 damage isn’t sufficient for a self-reliant Gauntlet clear. I can’t get him to beat Gauntlet stages at 3/5 without significant support half the time. And in CS, he’s again not going to melt stages without his EX and 3/5. His DPS just isn’t there, and you don’t have sync supporting it either. When completely uninvested, he doesn’t accomplish much.

What does SS Leaf functionally accomplish? 2500 points in Master Mode, guaranteed. Stall meta, baby! Stallmaster Leaf is back! AoE Toxic and Potion support, are you kidding? Spend your first BP ticket after like two days of playing on BP Clemont, and you can beat nearly any CS stage at full points. And for a starting player? That’s your candy coin. That’s 30 more powerup tickets. 200 more points anywhere in the run, that’s a full 5* powerup. That’s functional. That’s something reliable and consistent every single week. That’s what you need as a new player. And frankly, once you start breaking in, Leaf still carries her weight, because some types are just harder to acquire. She’ll almost always be able to fill in for a type that’s weak in your roster.

It just bothers me how often I have to argue about the merits of SS Leaf as a starting tool, when the other two are only discussed as a nostalgia factor. They’re not even that good, bro.

#pokemon masters

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clockworklozenges · 4 years ago

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So, a good five or so years back, I played in one of the best worst DnD games I have ever been in. The DM had bought the Libris Mortis book, which, if you were unaware, was a 3.5 splatbook adding in a lot of undead stuff, including some monsters and undead player races and stuff. Wanting to try it out, me and my gaming group decided to play things from it, our then DM deciding to run a completely homebrewed session. This proved to be a...

Terrible Idea™

(for the uninitiated, never homebrew something you do not fully understand unless it's just cosmetic. If you want to make all elves worship the god of garlic bread, Ultimo-Metatron-Omega, go ahead, but unless you know how the game works, don't make mechanical changes). So we all picked stuff from the books-one player played a skeleton Sorcerer who in life was a tribal shaman, but an attempt at healing went wrong, turning him undead as his life energy was replaced with negative energy, explaining why most of his spells were necromancy and suchlike.

Another player played Krug, an antipaladin in very spiky full plate. He was a zombie made by a necromancer of a paladin who was fighting him, but his allies killed his would-be master before he could assert control, and not wanting to just off him, his allies just...yeeted his body into a portal and hoped it'd re-kill him. It did not kill him hard enough. It did, however, explain his stats which...oof. He had already got debuffs to some stats due to being a zombie, and rolled abysmally. Fortunately for the player, he played mostly to socialise, so didn't much care.

I played... Count Nox Feratu, the Campire. As in, a vampire with a very camp German accent, which I did not break for the whole time I was playing him. To the point where "ach, nein, I haf bin heet! Heal me, meine freunde!" was par for the course. My overly camp vamp was a wizard, but due to level adjustment was a bit of a shoddy one. For backstory, he'd been ousted from his clan for ineptitude, and had sworn revenge. I was going for a swordmage build but never got there. All his spells were utility or just necromancy spells.

Our last player played...sigh...Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of Nerull, God of murder and undeath. He was one of the clerics from the book's murder Domain, meaning that he got buffs to damage. He was a vicious arse both in character and out of it, and was so dripping with edge compared to the paladin with the same IQ as a horse after its trip to the glue factory, the shaman who thought killing fixed people and the Campire that if you gave him a pat on the back you'd have finely diced your hand into a red mist. Not going too outlandish with his backstory of wanting to dominate the world as his undead thralls, Damien F***ing Bloodmoon had only taken spells which either charmed live people, dealt negative energy damage or messed with ability drain and suchlike, which he used with aplomb on townsfolk on our way to our objective. He was also, importantly, playing an elf of some sort, I forget which kind. Meaning that of the party, only one was alive.

So, just as an aside, for those of you that haven't played 3.5e DnD or have only played 5e, in Libris Mortis, undeath was gone over in detail, and had a litany of pros and cons. For one thing, undead had only the HP they had-folks like Damien F***ing Bloodmoon could be 'dying', and had some time to be stabilised before meeting the reckoning of Papa John and dying proper. Undead did not, it was just how much you had and if you ran out, poof, you're dust, bones and fertiliser again. You were also harmed by positive energy, so healing spells hurt you, as did potions of healing. However, undead were kind of hardy - poison immunity, some had resistance to non-magical melee damage, stuff that drained your ability scores and levels didn't work on them, some crits wouldn't do extra damage, and the best part- negative energy healed undead. Meaning all the spells our party had which damaged others like the living Damien Bloodmoon were curative ones for us. Keep this in mind.

So, we began our quest, learning of a necromancer a nearby town was plagued by. After using our skills (to whit: Damien Bloodmoon charming and drawing the life force out of random villagers and the only potion seller in the town whilst we went shopping. Krug got a snazzy hat, which we put on top of his helmet, and we chatted to townsfolk as I looked alive enough to pass as human and the shaman had a fake beard and toupee that people were too awkward to point out was fake so went along with it) we learn that the necromancer has a base of operations in the cemetery. "Oh ja, zo original, dahlink. Ve vill need to educate zis guy on vhat is chic and vhat is just shabby!"

So we head there and the nightmare begins. Damien Leads the charge, using all of his knowledge to deduce that the shambling horde moving towards us were stronger-than-your-average-bear undead, and he was right. These were powerful armoured zombie mages of some sort, casting ability draining spells, negative energy ray spells and even having auras of negative energy that dealt damage on a failed Fortitude save. Even their punch and quarterstaves did negative energy damage as well as the usual bludgeoning or unarmed. However...only one of us was really in danger and the DM's face fell when the squishy casters walked up and began shanking their super-special homebrew zombie wizards, being healed by the damage of their attacks as we cut them down.

Like I said, one of the benefits of undeath is that negative energy actually heals you. So the strikes of the magic staves and punches that hit us did some basic damage. Which was then immediately healed by the negative energy their weapon strikes and spells were doing.

However, you'll recall that Damien Bloodmoon was an elf. And not dead. Being a Cleric of a death god doesn't mean that you have the abilities of an undead. That meant that even with the DM being merciful, by the end of the first fight he was covered in blood, mud and withered away to just above half his original strength and constitution. More were patrolling, so we had to run. But that posed a problem.

Remember Krug had heavy armour? And recall his awful stats? He in fact, hadn't got enough strength to wear the armour he'd been given for backstory. He didn't, according to the DM, have enough to remove his own armour. And we attempted to, but also failed our checks according to the DM. And Damien Bloodmoon refused to help, simply blaming Krug and his player. Krug's player thought it was hilarious, and Krug only had enough Intelligence and Wisdom to say his own name, so saw no problem. And Krug, Nox Feratu and Shaman realised that there really...wasn't a problem.

For us, at least.

We slogged through three combats dragging Krug and wading through the mud with him. His speed was so slow that for every step he took, we took about ten. The DM was confused and infuriated that his encounters weren't working, but refused to change them. So we had fun role-playing. Or at least three of us did.

Damien Bloodmoon refused to roleplay, and none of his ranged spells could affect the zombie mages. When he went into melee, he came out wounded as all hell. He went down twice, and it was only the healing supplies of the shaman that saved him.

All the while, he was... Let's say not best pleased. Damien Bloodmoon was getting increasingly wounded, exasperated and longing for the sweet embrace of death as reprieve from the humiliation. His player was getting increasingly redder and rage-filled as time passed. Each fight ended with our characters stronger than ever and his a bloody pulp on the floor, with poor in-character knowledge (and terrible rolls) preventing him from realising why.

Eventually, we reached the final boss, pausing only to paint Krug's armour in contact poison just in case, and to find a stick to help the now-partially-crippled Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of death and murder, walk after being beaten up by angry zombie wizards for hours. And it had, indeed, been hours. Among us, only Damien had a bonus to strength, and we had two swords, a mace and a staff between the four of us. Meaning it was re-death by a thousand cuts for the enemy and a slog and a half for us.

We reach the necromancer and, having taken so long due to dragging the oblivious Krug with us, his big ritual is complete- he raises a fist-sized black onyx egg aloft, crackles with arcane power and causes the bones around him to coalesce into one massive creature - an undead, giant-sized rust monster, radiating an Aura of pure negative energy. Krug opened his arms wide, eager for the metal-eating monster cockroach to free him from his poison-painted metal prison. It ignores him as he's still very far away. Me and the others have our weapons and armour devoured.

Our DM was very much a stickler for note-taking. So because Damien Bloodmoon hadn't written 'clothes' on his sheet, his armour being eaten by the monster left him naked and afraid.

It became clear that the DM had done another f***y-wucky. See, the Aura of negative energy healed me and the Sorcerer by more than its other attacks did. So whilst Damien Bloodmoon was naked, soaked in mud and bleeding to death almost crushed to a pulp in the fetal position, rocking backwards and forwards as his player seethed with hatred, the Shaman and the Campire set about beating the thing to death with our bear hands and a stick.

The session ended once we killed the necromancer, or rather when Krug walked up to him, closed his arms and just crushed the noodle-armed bad guy to death with the weight of his ridiculous armour and poisoned him with its paintwork.

We never revisited the game afterwards. We were told later on that the DM wanted us to use the non-undead races. But at no point had he said as much, even when we asked him about our characters and the restrictions on them. We also learned a valuable lesson. DM for the players who are there, not the ones who you have an idealised mental image of. Tailor your game, otherwise you'll get a sitcom featuring a camp nosferatu, a shaman with no healing, a paladin who could barely move and a Cleric of murder who was ironically the only one at risk of actually dying.

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nevertheless-moving · 4 years ago

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Suicidal Misunderstanding X

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV - - - - - Part V - - - - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII - - - - - Part IX

“I realize this is incredibly difficult,” the Nautolan Soul Healer said calmly. “But in order for us to help Obi-Wan, we need to determine the cause of his current disconnection with reality. Based on the drug panel, and convenient surveillance, we have, to the best of our ability, ruled out temporary psychosis brought on by a drug interaction.”

Cody stiffened further, not sure how to react to anything anymore. When a brother tried to end his own life, it was usually obvious why.

Sife Aerdo continued on. “There have, of course, been cases of Jedi Seers giveing into their fears of the future, or losing their sense of reality, but every case study involving such an extreme reaction was the result a gradual degradation over the course of many years. Nevertheless, it seems clear that Obi-Wan experienced a vision, and it may have impacted his breakdown to some extent. The more we know, the more successful any attempts to convince him of reality will be.”

Bant furrowed her brow in thought, trying to replay three decades of increasingly vague discussions of nightmares.

”Considering the high profile nature of his position, we cannot rule out some kind of psychological attack, perhaps even a darksider incursion.

Anakin leaned forward intently, the inside of his skull buzzing with white noise.

"All that being said, we must be prepared to treat Obi-Wan’s self harm as the culmination of a long and quiet mental health struggle. He would not be the first in the Order to disguise such a thing with durasteel self-discipline.”

At that, Bant and Mace took a moment to release their feelings to the force, while Anakin raised his shields defensively.

Master Aerdo finally hesitated, before continuing in the same smooth tone. “I would ordinarily prefer to structure this kind of conversation quite differently- allow Obi-Wan time to share his feelings first and invite you each separately to support him in the healing process. But he’s gone from fighting sedatives and force compulsions as though the fate of the galaxy depended on it, to a self-induced coma. All while barely lucid, yet still somehow maintaining Master Class mental shielding. We need to get a better understanding of his mental landscape if we’re going to even begin the process of treatment."

It is necessary to note that everyone in that room had led, in one way or another, a somewhat miserable life. This was the main reason none of them could claim that the next five hours were the worst they had ever experienced.

“But he’s always had terrible sleeping habits.” Anakin said hoarsely.

“Yes, but I think they got worse after Qui-Gon passed,” Bant argued, not sure what point she was making.

“When I pointed out he couldn’t be getting more than three hours a night he told me that he could manage on meditation” Cody offered irritably.

“That’s technically true,” Mace confirmed. “If the Master in question is well-balanced otherwise”

“So its like his eating habits, crushing responsibilities, and repeated exposure to violence, then? Completely fine for a Jedi, in less it’s not, in which case it’s a major red flag?”

“I think it would help to establish a timeline.“

Aerdo actually dredged up old mission reports, leading to the group reluctantly contacting Ashoka for her memories of Mortis.

At her Master’s insistence, she told them everything she remembered, hazy as it was, nervously elaborating on her own memories of falling. To her confusion, Master Windu all but brushed past that, assuring her that the important thing with stepping into darkness was the choice to the return to the light. Anakin bizarrely agreed with Windu. Out loud. Unnerved by the cooperation more than anything, she put her holographic foot down and demanded to know what was going on.

Anakin took the comm-link into a separate room to speak privately.

Upon return, he informed the group (with a visibly red and puffy face) that Kit would be escorting her back from Mount Cala cleanup early, daring anyone to disagree. Windu nodded and the conversation continued on.

Together they rewatched holo-footage of Obi-Wan laughing amongst Ghost company the night before last, and debated reports from psychometric investigators who had scoured the cantina as well as Obi-Wan’s personal quarters for traces of illicit substances. Between that and another drug panel, they were finally forced to conclude that despite the timing, the alcohol at most confused Obi-Wan’s perception of a vision, or possibly simply loosened his tongue.

Bant prodded Cody to repeat every word from the holocar ride to the temple, taking furious notes. Cody was unable to stop the heat that crawled up his face.

Just when the looming horror of Obi-Wan actually preparing to intentionally die started to break over Anakin, Windu interjected.

“You don’t see what I do,” the Harun Kal said grimly. “Something galaxy-sized shattered around Obi-Wan and he didn’t break from it. The closest comparison I have is Master Yaddle’s presence when she meditated on her confinement. He’s chosen to keep going, even when, quite frankly, death would be a release. We’re missing something fundamental.”

“He said there were ‘other dark forces at work.’ Even if the fight was objectively hopeless... there’s no way he would choose to die because of it!” Anakin agreed vehemently, shaking off morbid fears.

“But he did choose to die.” Cody said quietly. And the wind went out of Anakin’s sails.

“Lets go back.”

Anakin gritted his teeth as they picked apart everything ‘unusual’ Obi-Wan had said and done leading up to his visit with Bant.

“What exactly did he...”

“So Plo Koon was able to get a read through his shields?”

“Did he have anything to eat?”

“How did that compare to...”

“When he's mentioned things in the future...did it seem good or bad to you?” Bant asked.

“Bad.” Cody and Anakin said in unison. Remembering the trip to the temple Cody spoke again, “Definitely bad.”

“Right. When we were talking he sometimes used the wrong tenses for things, people. I confronted him on not knowing ‘when’ he was after Knight Skywalker left. He told me that he knew what was real, but he was “enjoying not fully living in the moment” he also said that he intended to “wake up”

“Enjoying? That’s the exact word he used?” Cody asked incredulous.

“He did seem...mostly happy yesterday. Giddy, at points.” Anakin said, slumping in on himself.

Bant looked at her notes once more before addressing the group.

“This isn’t vision psychosis in any manner I’ve heard of before...but I think I might have a theory. He used to have intense visions when we were kids; plenty of us did sometimes, but Obi-Wan would be unable to sleep after. What terrified him more than anything was the uncertainty that he might make the wrong choice- even when the vision was about something good, or neutral. His visions gradually stopped coming around puberty. We just had a conversation about this a few months ago- how relieved he was to only have to manage flashes of precognition. If he had a random, horrifying vision of a terrible future...suicide wouldn’t be his reaction. It’s too final.”

“Even if he blamed himself for what he saw coming?” Mace asked.

“Especially if he blamed himself.” Bant said.

“What’s your theory?” Aerdo prodded.

“What if...what if he was telling the truth when he said he could separate out what was real and what was not? What if there was no distortion or blurring between now and then? What if he was just wrong about which was which?”

“That...would be a very extreme and abnormal manifestation of force-induced psychosis. He has training in distinguishing reality from visions. The continued presence of his mental shielding means that the fabric of his mind can’t be so horrifically collapsed in on itself.”

“What if the vision was actually that realistic?” Bant said, pushing back against the soul healer. “So detailed and vivid that it effectively was a reality in itself, and everything else, all of us...”

“Were just memories” Anakin finished. “It would...actually explain pretty much everything. You said he wanted to wake up and when...when I found him.” He stopped, swallowing. “When I found him, he argued with me...what if he wasn’t trying to hurt himself? If you’re right...that would mean I found him trying to get back to reality.”

“It could explain his behavior in the halls...his desperation to wake...” Sife mused “But it runs counter to every other experience I’ve had with those managing prophetic visions. Master Windu, could that explain the shatterpoints you saw?”

“I’m not certain. It would have to have been extraordinarily real to create the echos of Shattering I witnessed. I don’t know if that depth of vision has occurred before, but then again, many things are possible in the force.”

“You really think he might have been...trying to wake up from dream? By killing himself?!” Cody asked incredulous.

“If that ends up being what happened I am going to give him such shit. That is the worst way to end a vision.” Anakin replied.

“Yes. It is.” Bant said pointedly. “That’s why it’s a last resort, after every other attempt to wake fails.”

They all sat in silence, processing various implications. Cody was unnerved by another terrifying insight into force powers, as well as the idea that the General might vividly remember Cody being inexplicably mind-controlled into trying to kill him. Anakin was trying to understand what this would mean for them, and the conversations he had thought they had had. Did...any of it count, if he thought he was offering it to a hallucination?

“Alright, this is a valuable working idea, but let’s make sure to examine everything with an open mind before we draw any more conclusions. Anakin, what happened after you left the healers office?”

Obi-Wan’s critique of the practicalities of visiting a soul healer could be and was interpreted multiple ways. The incongruity of peacekeepers in war sparked a rehash of earlier discussion. More apologies. Self identifying as ‘crazy’ inspired new debate, especially in the context of the new theory.

“When I saw him enter the fountain room I assumed he had had a brutal run-in with dark force user.” Windu explained. “Based on everything we’ve gone over, I don’t understand when...but some of the more insidious sith compulsions work by taking whatever small anger or hurt you feel and magnifying them until they consume you. If Obi-Wan was already experiencing self loathing...”

Cody sucked in a breath. “Then a Sith mind suggestion would bring him to commit suicide. It...sounds like something he might do, if he was partially in control. Take the blow rather than let himself be used as a weapon against anyone else, even his worst enemy.”

“Hells, it could have been an even vaguer compulsion, driving him to attack the person he hates the most,” Bant added darkly.

Anakin buried his head in his hands, trying to hold it together. He couldn’t afford to lose control or get angry. Hells, getting angry at Obi-Wan for ‘failing him’ when in pain could be the reason Obi-Wan was currently in the healing halls. The man said he loved him unconditionally, then practically had a breakdown over how much Anakin pushed that unconditional love to the breaking point, then killed himself. How was he supposed to-

“Anakin? Are you alright to continue?” someone said.

“Yes. No. There’s more I have to tell you...I don’t know if it will help but - it was hurting Obi-Wan...I...”

“Let’s just take it one step at a time. What happened after you left Mace?”

Apparently even Cody somehow knew more about Bruck Chun than Anakin. Master Windu and Eerin told different sides of the same sad story, which spiraled back into a conversation about Obi-Wan’s inadequacy issues, which somehow devolved into a long rant about Qui-Gon Jinn that Master Windu had apparently been holding back for years.

“My apologies.” He said afterwards, clearing his throat as the group stared, taken aback. “Old grievances. Go on Anakin, what did happened after you got to the ‘secret spot.’”

“He...was skirting around whatever was bothering him...I pushed him...told him I wanted to help...he said I couldn’t...because it was me...because of what I...”

Anakin stood up suddenly, feeling the walls of the room closing in.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry I-”

He ran out.

He turned around almost immediately, pacing in the small corridor, knowing he couldn’t leave, simply needing a minute to catch his breath.

Master Windu followed him out after a moment, not saying anything, just standing there. Watching him.

“What!” Anakin finally snapped. “What do you have to say that I don’t know already!”

“Knight Skywalker-”

“Don’t call me that! I DON’T DESERVE-”

Anakin let out a frustrated snarl, punching a wall. The crumble of stone beneath this fist briefly made him feel better, but then he remembered Obi-Wan’s heartbroken expression in the light of an underworldly glow, and the tiny, choked sound he heard when the healers moved him and Anakin just...collapsed, falling to his knees.

Master Windu sank down gracefully beside him.

“Anakin. This isn’t about attachment issues, is it.”

“Not really, no. I mean, maybe you’ll blame attachment but it’s more about...”

“Anger.”

Anakin looked up at that, trying to regain the meditative calm he had felt for a glimmering moment yesterday, right in-between making peace in the cave and everything burning to ash.

“You know that I have had my own struggles with anger. It is how and why I came to develop Vaapad.”

“Yes, but you’ve Mastered your anger. And you’ve never...never given in to hate.”

A beat passed and Windu watched some of Skywalker’s familiar breaking points flicker into view.

“You’ve done something. Something you know the Jedi won’t forgive.”

“Obi-Wan forgave me.” Anakin said, whispering. “He said that even though I couldn’t fix what I did he loved me anyway and I just needed to...to honestly regret what I did and not do it again. I told him I’d get rid of my lightsaber and I meant it and...I thought he forgave me. I was ready to go to the Council with him, come clean about everything. And then I left him alone to get dinner and when I came back...he was holding my lightsaber. My lightsaber.”

Anakin buried his face in his hands, shuddering with creeping cold.

“I’m not going to critique your and Obi-Wan’s attachment to each other right now. I’m well aware that much of the order has turned to personal ties to maintain their stability given the ongoing horrors of war. I am, for many reasons, wary of the risks this brings us, yet it is also true that risks do not automatically mean failure. I myself have mastered my emotions in a different manner than conventional wisdom councils.”

Windu spoke carefully. For all that he and Anakin had similar relationships with the force, they rarely saw eye to eye on any given subject. At a certain point, Mace had accepted that the volatile young man was determined to find the worst possible interpretation for anything he said. And Mace was not the order’s most patient diplomat.

“As for your crime, whatever it is, l will tell you this: Unless you choose to renounce the code and leave our number, you will be treated as a Jedi Knight, subject to our protections, as well as our judgement. You will receive appropriate mental counseling. If you are judged to be a danger to those around you, your actions will be curtailed and monitored, possibly through temporary confinement. The Jedi do not believe in punitive measures for their own sake, but you may be required to provide restitution to those you harmed, perhaps indefinitely.

Silence hung perilously between them. Windu watched a tremor run through the unfathomable kaleidoscopic of shatterpoints that had orbited Skywalker since he was a boy. A small one broke inward, and an attached tangle of larger, darker ones fell away, crumbling to dust. The rest faded from view, invisible for the moment. A choice had been made, some decision that closed off at least one path to the darkside.

“There’s no one to make restitutions to.”

“...You’re going to have to elaborate on that.”

“Let’s go back inside- I don’t want to do this twice.”

They returned to the increasingly hated meeting room.

Anakin spoke in an outpouring of words about love and hate, about misplaced revenge and now uncertain forgiveness. When he finally finished, the room was deathly silent.

The three Jedi sat quietly while Cody pinched the bridge of his nose. “I guess this is why Jedi have the no attachment rule, huh? I admit I never really got it, but I suppose even if I-”

Bant abruptly lunged up, fumbling to bring her lightsaber to Anakin’s neck. Everyone jumped to their feet, except for Anakin, who stared at Bant with a wretched expression.

“MASTER EERIN! This is not-”

“Did you do it?” she asked, ignoring the Master of the Order.

“Bant!”

“It was my first thought after I saw him. We all rushed in expecting a fight, or a bomb, only to find you, insane, and him with a hole next to his heart. I didn’t want to believe it of course, but you’ve always had a violent streak that Obi-Wan, force help him, couldn’t quite soothe away. A fight gone wrong. Master Windu said it was suicide, and I believed him, and I’ve been trying to make sense of that ever since. But Mace found you after, didn’t he? After you felt guilty? Did you think he was going to turn on you?”

“Bant Eerin, you are dangerously-”

“No.” Anakin whispered.

“Obviously I might be why. But I didn’t- I couldn’t. I know I’m not good but I can’t even imagine- holding a saber against him like that. Kriff, do you not get how much I can’t handle losing people I love? I was insane when you saw me because I saw someone trying to kill Obi-Wan and I couldn’t even fight them.”

Bant held his gaze for several lingering seconds, deactivated her saber and dropping it with a clatter. They stared at each other, breathing heavily and not blinking. She returned to her seat, moving jerkily. “I apologize Knight Skywalker. That was uncalled for.”

“I wish I could say I wouldn’t have done the same thing in your shoes” he responded lowly. Bant made a tiny, unintelligible noise in reply.

Cody collapsed back into his chair, holstering his blaster. “Alright then...so after you finished sitting in the fountain room...what happened next?”

Everyone stared at him.

“What?”

“You’re handling Anakin’s confession somewhat dispassionately. We’re simply surprised.” Mace said slowly, returning to his seat at the same time as Master Aerdo fell into theirs.

Cody shifted uncomfortably. “The vod were trained in a wide range of enemy suppression tactics. While we’re extremely glad the Jedi have never asked us to employ them, I’m not...unfamiliar with this scale of deliberate slaughter. At least in the hypothetical, sir.”

“I see.” Aerdo said. “That is a valuable insight to have, thank you. Knight Skywalker-”

“Just...call me Anakin. Or Skywalker.”

“Anakin. When did this happen?”

“About two years ago, immediately before the First Battle of Geonosis.”

“And have you had any similar experiences with giving into the darkside since?” they asked placidly.

“I don’t think so but...we went to war the next day and....I don’t know if I’ve stopped fighting since it- since I did what I did.”

“Hmm. Anakin, would you mind stepping outside the room and waiting in the corridor for a moment please?”

He bit his tongue, tasting blood, and quietly walked out the door while the Masters decided his fate. He leaned back against a wall, desperately wanting to see Padme.

To his surprise, the door opened barely a few minutes later, and he was politely invited back in.

“Anakin.” Master Windu spoke. “Thank you for telling us this. It’s an important insight into Obi-Wan’s feelings right now, and I recognize that you could have kept it a secret. As Head of the Order, and with the advice of a Senior Soul Healer, I have made a decision. You will be assigned a personal soul healer, who you will start seeing tomorrow. Commander Cody pointed out that over nearly two years of continuous warfare, you have maintained some of the the lowest trooper casualty units of any division, by a significant margin if we evaluate based on mission risk level. Your civilian and enemy casualties will be reviewed, but even considering constant war, since your massacre of the Tuskens, you have clearly managed to at least... direct your violence away from the innocent. We do not consider you a threat to the inhabitants of the world. For the time being, I see no real benefit to limiting or tracking your behavior within the temple or on planet, but you are barred from leaving orbit. I have decided to delay a full reckoning before the council until such time that your former Master is well enough to provide his own opinion. Give me just cause, and I will have you confined to a force-suppressing cell. Do you understand?”

Anakin nodded, bowing in acknowledgment. All things considered, it was...honestly better than he expected.

“Now, as Cody” Windu paused. “My apologies, as the Commander was saying-”

“Cody’s fine, sir” Cody said, wrung out in a way different from anything Kamino had trained him for.

“...I think we can all consider ourselves on a first name basis at this point.” Bant said with a snort. She paused. “That includes you Anakin. I really don’t know how to handle what you did but kark it, I don’t want to hate you. For myself.”

Everyone nodded.

“As Cody was saying, what happened next?”

Peace. Comfort. Hunger. A warning in the force...

“I tried to pull the saber back but his finger was already on the igniter...”

“You probably saved his life. Even a second later-”

“I know, that’s almost the worst part.”

“-his neck”

“Why would he change weapons?”

“What if-”

“He said what to you and Healer Che?”

“That has to support the detailed vision idea, think about-”

“I’m sorry, Emperor?”

“I think we’re done.”

Anakin stared blankly at Sife. “But we didn’t figure anything out.”

“Not conclusively, but we’re unlikely to make any more progress, you’ve given me enough information to preform a meaningful meditative scan, or guide a conversation, should Obi-Wan wake, or navigate through his mind, should we decide to make a more decisive attempt at his shields.”

“Master Aerdo... I leave the final judgement up to you, but I strongly urge you to make a more decisive attempt. I am more convinced now than I was...” Mace glanced at the chronometer “five hours ago that this was motivated by a specific, external stimuli, likely dark. Do you disagree?”

“No.” they said with a sigh. “But I don’t want to underestimate how much underlying factors might have contributed to his response to stimuli, including underlying factors that none of you were aware of.”

The Nautolan Soul Healer stood up, tucking their hands into their sleeves to address the room with classical Jedi serenity. It was a little irritating.

“In any case, we all need to sleep, eat, and meditate. Master Eerin, you have the rest of the day off, I've cleared it with Master Che already. Master Windu, I leave the final judgement up to you, and I am aware that your duties as Master of the Order are unceasing, but I urge you to take some time to center yourself before returning to the council. Commander Cody, I would be more than willing to arrange soul healing for you or any of the Vod, please let me know. Anakin, you will receive a comm later today with further details on your future healing sessions.

They bowed low, then glided out the door.

Bant stood next, bowed individually to each soul, and sped walked out.

Commander Cody cleared his throat awkwardly, “Mace- what should I tell the troops? We’re supposed to have command briefings later tonight.”

“If anyone asks about General Kenobi, tell them its classified.” I’ll schedule a briefing on the subject. Now go find Captain Rex and take care of yourself, that’s an order.”

Cody saluted, first to the high General, then to Anakin.

Finally it was just Mace and Anakin.

“Is there anyone who you trust who I can call to stay with you.” Master Windu asked.

“I can manage on my own” Anakin replied, not willing to give the Master of the Order anything else he could use against him, even after everything.

Master Windu held back a sigh.

He continued once more, making a deliberate attempt to soften his tone. “Anakin- I know we’ve had our differences, but this is not a trick, nor a trap. You’ve suffered a series of great shocks in the last 24 hours and handled them with immense maturity. I myself am struggling to deal with the emotional fallout.”

Anakin looked up at that, surprised. He didn’t seem to be struggling, but maybe that was what made him a good Jedi Master...

“As I told you before, I am not going to begrudge you the comfort of attachment. I’m rather convinced it would do you more harm than good at this point. I don’t want you flying right now, and you don’t have to be alone. I hope we have come to a better understanding today, but I doubt my presence is suddenly a comfort, though please correct me if I’m wrong. Now is there someone I can call?”

Padme ended her call with Master Windu extremely discomfited. She had barely heard from Anakin since he ran out on her the night before last to take care of an apparently extremely drunk Obi-Wan. He had messaged her a few times that night, promising to make it up to her, but had been comm-silent since. She had been starting to get worried, and now the Master of the Order was asking her to pick him up from the temple. Fortunately, she had already cleared most of her meetings for the week well in advance (Courascant leave usually meant THEM time, not that she was jealous of Obi-Wan, of course).

The speeder ride back from the temple was silent. All Anakin would say was that he would explain everything once they were in ‘a secure location.’

The door to the apartment had scarcely closed behind them when Anakin fell into her arms, shaking.

“Anakin, talk to me love, what’s wrong?” She gently guided him to the couch, arranging him so she could hold him protectively.

“Obi-Wan tried to kill himself.”

She let out a harsh gasp, “No! He can’t have, he would never-”

“I got to him in time, but Padme... he was holding a lightsaber to his heart. It was...really close” He burrowed deeper into the folds of her dress, and she gripped him fiercely.

“Oh gods, is he-”

“He’s physically healing, but he’s still...not all there. I spent all of today locked in a room, trying to figure out if it was a Sith Attack, or an insane vision, or..or me”

“Anakin! What do you mean ‘me’ - Obi-Wan loves you, you-”

“I know.” Anakin interrupted her again, knowing he was being unfair; he was just too exhausted to be patient.

“He told me loved me. He...he...found out about what I did to the Tusken village, You should have seen his face, Padme, he was horrified, but he still told me he loved me, and he was willing to forgive me, even though he shouldn’t”

“Of course he forgave you,” Padme whispered. “You’re not a monster, Anakin, I know you would never do something like that again.”

"And then after we talked, I left him alone and he-” Anakin choked out into her dress.

Tears ran down her face, heart breaking. “That’s- that’s horrible. Anakin...it must have have been a attack, Obi-Wan wouldn’t do that.” she said urgently.

He pulled away, horrified. “I made you cry. I made Obi-Wan cry too. I’m sorry- Padme please, promise me you won’t-”

She grabbed the sides of his head.

Her nails bit into the soft skin behind his ears as she pulled him down so they were face-to-face, vowing, “Never. I swear by the force itself, I will never choose death over life.”

He let out a relieved sigh, eyes fluttering closed.

“Now you,” she demanded

“As long as I have anyone to live for, I swear by the force, I will never choose death over life.”

She pulled him the rest of the way in for a bruising kiss. He lifted her, and they desperately clung at one another as he carried her to bed. They continued like that, clinging and grasping, until exhaustion carried him to sleep. She pulled the covers over top them both and curled around him defensively as the day slowly faded away.

Part XI

#star wars #my au #suicidal misunderstanding au #prequel trilogy #potentially triggering #discussions of suicide #references to self-harm #star wars au #bonding? between #Mace Windu and Anakin Skywalker #? in my #hurt/comfort fic #? It’s more likely than you’d think #also I struggle with fix it stories that just never address the big tusken elephant in the room? of course i want everyone to #live happily ever but theres a certain scale of atrocity that i feel u gotta address 2 get there #ugh this chapter got reallly long and im just gonna post it ok? ok.#meh #a lot of this fic is just people mentally going What The Fuck at various registers with different inflections #Because that’s not an inappropriate response to time travel in general! and star wars canon in particular.#star wars au no 27

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luvbugkenma · 3 years ago

Text

JJK + Stoners (pt. 2)

CHARACTERS: Itadori Yuji, Kugisaki Nobara

A/N: i wrote this exact sort of thing last time i wrote one of these, but i started it off sober a few days ago and i'm finishing it while i'm high. sorry for any mistakes, i'm trying to read over everything i wrote and correct any mistakes. i hope you enjoy, reblogs are appreciated <3

WARNINGS: drug use (marijuana), alcohol, swearing

word count: 1.2k

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yuji

when he was younger he mostly focused on his family and school so partying wasn’t really on his mind

probably didn’t start smoking or get involved with weed until late into high school, nearing close to graduation

doesn’t really have a preference with what he uses to smoke

tries to stay away from dabs because of his tolerance and they also are very intimidating to him

he owns a couple bongs (he treats them like they’re living creatures, takes great care of them - practically tucks them in for bed at night)

definitely one of those ppl who buys the fucking rick and morty bongs + trays and shit like that

has a good collection of pipes

smokes from bowls + bongs very very often

doesn't have any strong feelings against joints, he just doesn't like how strongly they smell or how dry it makes his throat and mouth

definitely uses his dab pen the most tho

enjoys the vibes that are put out during a sesh and likes playing personalized playlists for the people he smokes with

this is his specialty, he loves music

he’s already a chill guy but he gets very mellowed out when he’s high

definitely still the center of attention and is 100% the storyteller at parties

again, he’s already a cuddly person but he gets very needy when he’s really high

his eyes are barely open but he’ll be reaching towards you with grabby hands and making small grunts

he can barely speak or think but he knows that he wants to feel the touch of someone else and be held to feel grounded

falls asleep in the middle of a hangout to take a quick nap then wakes up and asks if anybody wants to smoke again

sometimes all he needs is a quick nap to feel more clear-headed

he’s also the type to turn to a can or two of red bull summer edition to wake up more

used to fall asleep first when he was having a sesh with his friends but after they took stupid ass pictures of him he tries to keep himself awake (and for more #memeories with his homies😤😤😤)

enjoys playing video games when he’s high

tries to stick to light-hearted things so he doesn’t get stressed, overwhelmed, or paranoid

really likes drawing too !!!

he didn’t really like drawing too much beforehand but once he got high and threw on some music he loved it

so calming for him

also likes drawing in those adult coloring books for anxiety

is a chair-sitter when he’s sober but fully becomes a floor-sitter when he’s high

will sit in front of people’s feet and just kinda stare at them while they talk

he kinda looks like a puppy hehe

when he’s alone and high he usually draws or builds legos

has so many lego creations he made while he was high as balls

they’re mostly lego star wars (obv, the best choice)

he wants the millennium falcon but its SO fucking expensive (no joke this bitch can range from $200 usd to almost $1000 usd LIKE WHAT ! that shit is crazy)

big fan of re-watching anime he’s already seen before too

usually dbz or naruto

sometimes goes for the classic shojo anime tho (we all know this bitch would watch shojo)

nobara

started as a casual user and still is

definitely doesn’t smoke as often as yuji or megumi (those bitches are high all the time)

probably smokes a tiny bit each day (like. barely buzzed) OR gets very high once a week

doesn’t own any pieces except her dab pen

on rare occasion she’ll use a bong by herself (usually only if megumi leaves one of his at her place)

will use other things if they’re offered to her

yuji usually uses his dab pen too but megumi prefers bongs + joints

if they all sesh, they usually smoke from one of the many bongs amongst all of them

has a dab pen and sticks to it

she had a really cool one that was iridescent but it broke bc she sat on it

her current one is a basic one that’s dark purple

she always ends up getting the weirdest strains and shit from her dealer and always gives them a hard time for it

i mean, the names are always weird but the actual. taste (?) is just. something else, ya know?

was given one that tasted way too much like caramel

has a pretty good tolerance

she usually only uses her dab pen bc its the only thing she owns

BUT sometimes dab pens do be hitting hard😩😩

pls keep her away from her credit card or any source of internet

she will end up online shopping and spending all of her money

once spent $400 on a bunch of clothes that weren’t even in her size and she had to return them (literally took all of the homies forcing her to)

really likes watching classic comedy movies when she’s high (both alone and with others)

really likes the anchorman

LOVES both 21 jump street and 22 jump street

big fan of booksmart and superbad

her fave movie is we’re the millers though

also likes watching shitty ass movies (only when she’s BLASTED)

somehow got her friends to agree to watching cats and 2021 cinderella🤢🤢

asks the homies to take candid pics of her smoking

they always turn out so sexC you would NOT believe it

sometimes they use a polaroid and the pics come out so smoky and cool :)

usually if its a joint bc joints make everyone sexC automatically

(never when she’s using her dab pen lol)

will most definitely ask to do your makeup OR for you to do her makeup

will also ask to recreate that one pic of the 2 girls doing makeup meme (< pls just look that up if u don’t know what i’m talking ab 😭😭)

if she’s at an actual party, you best believe she’s getting cross faded

holds her alcohol surprisingly well

LOVES dancing (she can barely walk but she will find a way to dance)

super good at telling the vibe during a sesh and will put on really good mood music

tries to keep the music quiet because everyone will start focusing only on the music and then it’ll get quiet so someone is bound to fall asleep

the first time she used a bong was with megumi and yuji and she sprayed bong water on them by accident LOL

megumi got frustrated but yuji was in tears laughing with nobara

they were fucking crying and megumi was like “ok its funny now but wait until we’re all very high and i’m the only one who can still think properly” and they both just stop immediately and turn to him with tear stains on their cheeks AHAHAHHA they’re all so done with each other and i love it <3

definitely steals ppls clothing during seshes and nobody ever remembers (she has her own collection - it's mostly megumi’s clothes)

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

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penguinwithitsarseonfire · 4 years ago

Text

Dance For All We’ve Been Through

Pairing: Eleventh Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 1,771

Warnings: None

Summary: To stop a meteor hitting a small planet, the Doctor creates an elaborate plan involving a planet wide dance competition to stop it.

Request: I read in your tags that you were feeling fluff and I love how you write 11! Could you do 44 fluff with 11 please? and maybe with the Ponds there too? Prompt: “You’re an idiot” / “But I’m your idiot”

A/N: I don’t know what this is, I’m so sorry. This came from discussing Rick and Morty after a rehearsal in which there was a dance off.

The plan was bizarre – straight up weird, and, if it was anyone besides the Doctor, you would have had no faith that it would work.

Rory had finished drawing up a scaled version of the planet you were currently standing on. The planet was small - Pluto small, and a part of you wanted to cradle the drawing in your hands.

"How's this?" He asked, looking to Amy, then to you.

"It's good," you said, then, more of an aside. "I didn't know you could draw."

"We made him design all our aliens as kids,” Amy commented, and she leaned over Rory to get a better look at the map. "Where's the meteor supposed to hit?"

You had forgotten his name, but the president of the planet; a stocky man with a receding hairline, his purple face red from stress, hissed. "Don't say that so loud. If people know, it will cause a panic."

You groaned. "We've been through this. If we can't tell people, if we can't even tell your government-"

"We are not telling the government," he spat. He straightened, and you noticed his skin going back to a pale shade of purple. "My people are a fragile sort."

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to stifle your groan of frustration. He really wasn't making it easy.

The Doctor then ran into the room, and you almost cheered. The timing was perfect. You wouldn’t have to deal with the president now, the Doctor could. He would listen to the Doctor, everyone listened to the Doctor.

He came in to the sound of bells clattering against each-other, and you noticed that there actually were bells, draped over him like a sleigh bells. In fact, his whole body was decorated with an assortment of tinsel and lights. He looked like he was cosplaying a Christmas tree. "Almost done setting up the stage," he said. "How are we going in here?"

He was a strange dichotomy. In any other situation, you could image he would be grinning gleefully. The lights, the tinsel, the stage, the music, even, it was all up the Doctor's alley. Minus the planet destroying meteor.

His mouth, however, was pulled into a grim line.

It was the only clue you had that the Doctor was worried, too.

"Where's the meteor hitting?" Amy asked, with a slight pinch in her lips. She had noticed then, too.

"Oh it shouldn't be a problem," The Doctor waved to her, and his face morphed into a grin, which, by now, after all the times you had seen him do it, you knew wasn’t genuine. "All we need to do is move the planet by an inch or so, the meteor should fly right past."

“All we need,” the Doctor straightened and pointed to the three of you. “Is a dance move.”

“Ah,” you stared at your friends, who mirrored your blank expression.

Amy chewed her lip. “The macarena?”

You brightened. “Oh! That would be easy to teach everyone, it’s a classic!”

The Doctor physically slumped. “The macarena? Anyone can do the macarena,” he bumbled into the table, jingling away like a cheesy Christmas carol – which, why did you keep making Christmas metaphors – and came to your side. He leaned over you, studying the map.

He was close, you could feel some of the tinsel brush against your shoulder. He traced his finger along the edge of the planet, and in doing so he inadvertently moved further into your space. It was… warm. Safe. “If we sink the planet down – essentially, that’s not what we’re actually doing, the meteor-“

The president hissed.

The Doctor ignored him. “-Should just fly overhead. It means we need a dance move with extra oomph, where everyone dances…” he trailed off, turning to you. “Together.”

The Doctors eyes were so close to yours, you could see little flecks of gold in the green of his irises – something you had never noticed before.

From the side, you thought you heard someone – Amy, say something about pushing someone together to kiss.

You heard Rory say something else, something about being against the rules of the bet.

You decided to ignore them both. There were more pressing matters anyway

“So a partnered dance?” You said.

“Hang on,” Rory said. “Dancing – why are we dancing?”

“Oh,” The Doctor clapped his hands. “I love this part.”

“The explaining why you’re oh so very clever part?” Amy supplied.

“Exactly,” The Doctor said. He brushed his hands across the map. “Now, because Mr. Mean Purple Man-”

“President Button,” the president huffed.

“-Won’t let us tell the public the danger, which, judging by how your bodies can spontaneously combust under mass stress, isn’t a bad idea, it means we need a discreet way of solving the issue.”

“So… dancing?” Rory said.

“Dancing,” The Doctor said. “You see, it’s experimental, but, if everyone were to jump at the same time, whilst we’re all in the air, the planet should move an inch or so, just from the sheer force of conflict against the planets gravity. Then, it’s tricky, because, when we land, it will either move the planet another inch or…”

“Or?” The president said.

“Or move the planet back.”

“Oh,” you said, dejectedly. The planet moving back would be bad. Very bad.

You tried to think of an idea. What would make the planet move. “Wait,” you said, forming an idea. “So if two people are holding each other when they jump, shouldn’t they be able to jump higher? It’s got to do with momentum, right?”

“Correctumndo Y/L/N!” The Doctor beamed at you. “And we need to make sure everyone jumps in appropriately…” The Doctor stared at his plans. “37 minutes. Easy.”

Which was how, half an hour later, you ended up standing on a stage in a broadcast directed to the entire planet.

The dance wasn’t too difficult, all things considered. It was, however, ridiculous.

It had all the traits that made the Doctor… outlandishly goofy. There was a move that involve the Doctors strange giraffe arms - which he delighted in making you do, and a twirl that involved the two of jumping together, holding each-others forearms. If it were any other saturation, you would have felt self-conscious, hell, you would have felt downright absurd.

You laughed lightly when he demonstrated the wavey arm giraffe move again. He was brilliant, but he was also such an idiot. You paused for a moment, watching as he addressed the camera.

He was wonderful.

Standing on the stage, in front of all those cameras, talking to millions of people, felt so strange. The bright TV lights blared down on you. They were hot, and, after demonstrating the dance a couple of times, you could feel a sheen of sweat form on your brow.

The Doctor checked his watch. He looked to you, his expression grim. You didn’t have much time now.

“Alright,” you said, addressing the camera’s. “To win the competition, you must do the dance in time with us,” you said. “It what we humans,” you gestured to the Doctor, who was completely not human. “Value above all else in dance.”

Also a lie.

Amy grinned at you from behind the camera. She gave you an encouraging thumbs up.

“We’ll dance with you,” you continued. “And, whoever has the best timing, will win!”

You had no idea if you were convincing, but it was the best you could do.

So you danced.

It was, honestly, a blur. The only thing you could concentrate on was on the Doctor. The way his arms held you as you moved, the way his eyes shone when he twirled you under the lights.

Finally, finally, as Rory called out time, you both jumped into the air, clutching each other as you did so. In the corner of your eye, you saw the crew, Amy and Rory, even the President, jump into the air, and…

It was incredible.

It was like you could hear it. The entire population move as one, the planet shifting underneath your feet. You wanted to close your eyes, hold your breath, in case the meteor did come and all of you were brutally killed in an instant.

But you didn’t, you couldn’t look away. Because the Doctor was right in front of you, looking at you so sure, so positive that this would work out. He looked at you like you were brighter than the lights shining above you.

Then, you landed.

And nothing happened.

Nothing at all.

A loud cheer erupted over the room, and you couldn’t help joining in.

Here was this man, with his ridiculous, mad plan.

And it had worked.

After everything, when the four of you had wandered back to the TARDIS, and the President had thanked you for the fourteenth time, the Doctor took your hand. "Well then, I'd say that was another success. Where to next? I know a planet that makes amazing ice cream."

Amy laughed. "That dance was ridiculous, it was worse than my wedding."

"Oi, I’ll have you know that I've won dance offs with that move," he did an awkward wave, which was only made worse since you didn't join in, so it stopped rather sadly by your hand.

You laughed brightly. “You’re an idiot.”

The Doctor grinned at you. "Yes, but I am your idiot.”

You paused, doing a double take. Did he just-

"Oh," the Doctor paled as three pairs of stunned eyes stared at him. "Did I say that out loud?"

You processed what he had said. That he was.. well, yours. That was… well, that was amazing, really.

You squeezed his hand. "Good," you said. "I can't very well have you running off and being an idiot on your own."

Rory stared at you blankly. There was a beat, then he spoke. "Did - did you two just become a couple?" He brightened. "Did I just win the bet?"

There was a thump and Rory doubled over, clutching his stomach. He hissed out Amy's name, and, when you turned to face her, she was standing there with large, doe eyes, completely oblivious to her husband. She looked the picture of innocence.

You didn't believe her for a second.

You stood on your tip toes and placed a delicate kiss on the Doctors cheek. His blush reached the tips of his ears. "Take me on a date and we'll see," you said, enveloped in a ball of confidence. "Space boy." You squeezed his hand and winked at Amy, before stepping into the TARDIS.

From the outside, you thought you heard someone cheer.

It put a small smile on your face.

#the doctor x reader #eleventh doctor imagine #11th doctor x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #11th doctor #Elle: Speaks #opening Elle's vault #vault fic

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andypantsx3 · 4 years ago

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war paint | 6 | blade

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Reader

length: 27,765 words / 10 chapters

summary: Desperate times force you to disguise yourself and join the kingsguard. When a suspicious string of crimes strike the palace, however, Captain Katsuki Bakugou starts paying extra close attention. (spin off of in cinders)

tags: mulan AU, secret identity, romance, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, some violence, eventual smut

The bath house might have been the strangest moment of your life, but it proved only the beginning of Bakugou’s unusual behavior.

The captain seemed to be everywhere you turned in the days after. In the mess hall, you’d catch him staring at you from his table of officers, an unreadable look on his face. On the training pitch, he seemed to almost ignore your mistakes -- or at least, he didn’t appear as eager to rap you across the knuckles with the flat of his sword any time you were full seconds off a strike. He never reprimanded you, or revealed in any way that he’d caught you out after hours.

He was so confusing.

You’d thought more on his comments in the bath, about the prince and his valet. He had at least answered one of your long standing questions about why he - a marquis - would have joined the kingsguard instead of lounging around in Musutafu, slowly filling his manor full of heirs like the rest of the nobility. It was clear he was so viciously protective of the prince, and of Midoriya, though he seemed loath to admit it. You guessed that he couldn’t well knife anyone who “fucked with them” as he’d put it, from the comfort of a country estate.

This humanizing connection had you more confused than ever, and in combination with his weird behavior over the past few days, you were beginning to think he was waging some kind of psychological campaign on you. His lingering, thoughtful gazes were reaching off-putting levels of obviousness, and the way he corrected you in drills -- while still colorful with swears and insults -- was almost downright friendly for him.

You wondered what was wrong with him.

“He’s gonna murder you,” Kaminari offered unhelpfully, when you asked his opinion. “It’s like a final act of kindness. The prisoner’s last meal.”

Sero poked him with the stem of the herbs you’d been trying to grind into a staunching salve. “It’s not that. When have you ever known Bakugou to be kind?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Kaminari defended himself. “Why else would he be less mean to L/N than if he was gonna kill him?”

Sero rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I guess you have a point.”

You looked at him in alarm. “I don’t want to die,” you hissed. “I was just taking a bath.”

Kaminari smirked, piling up his own herbs in a towering heap, spilling out of the bowl of his mortar. “Not so great now, are they?”

You rolled your eyes, picking up your pestle and stabbing it into the mortar with feeling. “You can’t hate being clean that much.”

He didn’t respond.

You looked back up at him only to find him frozen, eyes fixated on something behind your back. He looked white as a sheet, and sat stiff and unblinking, as though locked in rigor mortis. A tall shadow fell over your workstation.

“Lotta yapping over here,” a rough voice said, and you looked up, up into a pair of red eyes. Your body locked up.

“Uh,” you said stupidly, feeling as blank as Kaminari, “The pestle leaves my mouth free.”

Sero let out an inhuman noise next to you, and the corner of Bakugou’s mouth twitched.

“Thought you did all your talking outta your ass,” he said, eyeing you closely.

Your face reddened. “Captain! I--That’s not--!”

“Calm down, shrimp,” he smirked. “You’re excused from medical training today. You’re coming with me.”

You stared up at him in shock. Was he taking you somewhere to kill you? Why not do it in front of the entire garrison? That seemed more his style, leaving your body to send a message to anyone else who dared commit the unforgivable sin of bathing after hours. What was he trying to do?

“Captain?” you asked nervously, fingers tightening on your pestle. Kaminari and Sero just stared, slack-jawed and open-mouthed like neanderthals.

“Now, soldier,” Bakugou said, insensitive to your plight. “Ten pushups for every second you make me wait.”

You shot to your feet. “Yes, sir.”

He turned on his heel, stomping back across the training field. The sun winked across his broad shoulders, falling in streaks over the blood red of his captain’s uniform.

“We’ll honor your memory,” Kaminari said sadly as you made to follow. Sero elbowed him, but it didn’t change your nervousness.

You thought quickly as you followed Bakugou across the field. If you weren’t being murdered, were you being discharged for your actions? Why now, why not days ago when it had happened?

Bakugou led you across the castle grounds, to a small building set in the shadow of the palace.

“In,” he grunted, opening the door. You eyed him apprehensively but ducked under his arm, stepping into a dim room. Racks of weapons lined the walls - heavy looking crossbows were pinned to the rafters, quivers of arrows lay in piles on the floor, and all manner of swords and maces lay racked in every corner. A tall man with a hawkish nose and dark eyes sat at a worktable in a cramped corner of the room, fletching a pile of arrows.

“Tokoyami,” Bakugou greeted him, following you into the room. You halted, but he prodded you forward with an impatient hand. “This is the little runt I was talking about. Think I got the size right?”

Tokoyami considered you, rising from his worktable. He took your wrist gently, placing his other hand under your elbow to pull your arm out, holding it perpendicular to your body. “He looks as described. I think it will work.”

Your heart picked up in your chest. What would work? What was he doing with your arm? Why was he holding it out? Was he going to cut it off?

You took a step back, running up against a hard chest. Bakugou let out a breath behind you, putting a steadying hand on your shoulder. It was almost unnaturally warm, burning through the layers of your uniform like the sun on a summer afternoon.

“Relax, princess,” he rumbled quietly in your ear as Tokoyami dropped your wrist, turning back to his worktable. He rummaged around in a pile of weapons behind it, the metal of swords clanking lightly as he shifted them.

You fidgeted uncomfortably under Bakugou’s hand, trying not to focus on the heat of him just behind you, the scent of smoke and something sugary that clung to him like dew on morning grass.

Tokoyami eventually emerged with a thin scabbard, holding it out to you. “Here.”

You looked at him curiously, but Bakugou gave you another impatient push. “Take the damn sword, shrimp. We don’t have all day.”

You took it from Tokoyami carefully, holding it out gingerly. “Captain, what is this?”

Bakugou scoffed from behind you, and you turned around to look at him.

“The standard issue blade’s too big for you. It’s why you’re so shitty at drills,” Bakugou said, crossing his arms over his chest. His uniform groaned in protest over his biceps, and you forced your eyes back up to his face.

“What?” you asked stupidly.

Bakugou smirked. “You’re not putting on the same muscle as those other fucks. I saw it in the baths. You needed a different blade - a little smaller and much lighter.”

You stared at him in shock. Is that why he had come into the water to harass you? He’d been looking you over? What else had he noticed about your appearance? Surely not much more or you wouldn’t be here…

“Please open it,” Tokoyami said quietly from your side. “Make sure it is to your liking.”

You followed his direction, pulling the hard leather from the blade. The crisp metal caught the glint of the afternoon sun, falling through the room’s single window. You noted immediately that it was perhaps an inch shorter than your own current blade, and about a fingertip less wide, with a smaller grip much closer to the size of your own hand.

The most dramatic difference, however, was its weight. It felt barely half as heavy, lightweight and almost airy in your hand after the weight of your own blade.

Tokoyami reached out and tapped the sword where a large groove ran through its center. “I had it fullered, much deeper than the standard issue blade to relieve some of the weight. I took enough length and width off to lighten the load but not give you a disadvantage in a fight, and reduced the grip size to keep the balance,” he paused, lip curling, “and because the captain said you had hands like a child.”

You whirled around to glare at Bakugou. He leaned against a sword rack, smirking, a thin blonde eyebrow raised as if daring you to disagree.

“You’ll need to practice with it,” Tokoyami continued, unaffected, “it will take some getting used to after the standard blade.”

You turned back to him. “Thank you. This is - wonderful.”

He seemed to smile, pleased. “It was the captain’s order. I only made it.”

You looked back at Bakugou. “Captain, I--”

“Save it,” he waved a hand, leaning back out of his slouch. “Tokoyami, thanks. We’ve got training to get to.”

He pushed the door open and stepped back out into the afternoon sun. “Move it, shrimp.”

You bowed to Tokoyami and scrambled after him. Bakugou led you back through the palace grounds to a small, out of the way training field you had never seen before. In the late afternoon sun, his hair shone like pale golden wheat, ruffling lightly in the breeze.

He stopped in the center of the field, unsheathing his own sword. “C’mon, princess. Let’s break in that new blade of yours.”

Your gut churned with nerves, but you nodded. You unclipped the sword belt containing the standard issue blade and kicked it to the side, drawing your new sword. Again, its lightweight build shocked you and your arm overshot the draw slightly, whipping the sword out a little farther than you intended.

“You’re going to have to put more force into your swings to accommodate for the missing weight,” he said. “It’s easier to move but you won’t be striking as hard when you do.”

You nodded, fingers tightening on the sword’s grip.

Bakugou smirked, eyes darting down to your hand. And then, before you could blink, he was on you.

You got your sword up just in time, barely saved by the fact that it was lighter than you were used to. The force of his strike rang up your whole arm and you gritted your teeth as he followed through, pushing you off balance.

You took a step back, ducking under his wide swing and darting your sword at his side. With almost inhuman grace, he twisted, leaning to the side and bringing his blade down to knock yours aside.

You followed the movement of your sword, letting it carry you outside his immediate reach.

“Good, princess,” he bit out, the corner of his mouth curling. “You’re faster.”

You stared at him. You felt faster, but you still couldn’t touch him.

“Again,” he commanded imperiously.

You thrust another strike at his chest. Again he caught it, knocking your blade aside. As he did, you noted that the force of it was easier to control than usual, and you were much faster in regaining command and bringing it back up to cut at him again.

“So you have been learning something,” he said, letting a savage grin touch his mouth. “You’re less useless than I’d have guessed, shrimp.”

It was hardly a compliment at all, but from him it felt like high praise. Something warm like satisfaction curled in your chest.

“Focus on bringing it down harder,” he said, stepping back into your space. The dirt of the field crunched under his boot. “You’re still not accommodating for less weight behind your blows. It’s easy for anyone to throw you off.”

You threw another blow at him, putting all your own weight behind it. He caught it, but was a fraction of a second slower in pushing you back off.

“Good,” he murmured again, red eyes tracking you as you stepped back out of his reach.

He threw another strike at you and met it with a heavy swing. He stepped through the recoil, and thrust again. Again you caught him in time and used his own momentum to swipe his strike aside. He grinned savagely.

After that, your focus narrowed entirely to strikes and thrusts, parries and blows. Your whole world became the swing of your arm, the glint of sun on bright metal, the soft dirt under your feet as you wove and ducked and swiped. Only gradually did you become aware of your heavy breathing and a slight fatigue in your arms. When you next noted your surroundings, the sun was no longer in its place in the sky, leaning close to the earth to kiss the horizon.

Bakugou used your distraction to kick your legs out from under you.

“That’s enough for today, shrimp,” he finally said, and you noted with some pride that he was breathing a little heavily as well. “I went easy on you, but you’re good. Better than I would have expected.”

You got to your feet, sheathing your sword. “This whole time,” you panted out between breaths, “I didn’t think - I, I’ve just been terrible.”

Bakugou tucked away his own blade. “You were. Now you’re not.”

You realized with a start that not only had he commissioned you a blade, but he’d set aside an entire afternoon to train you with it. Something like embarrassment, and gratefulness, washed over you in a hot wave.

“Thank you,” you blurted, grabbing the hem of your uniform for something to do with your hands. The tips of your ears felt hot.

Bakugou raised an eyebrow, then scoffed. “Shoulda caught it sooner,” he said, dismissively. “Knew you weren’t stupid with the way you picked up the medical shit.”

You looked at him in question.

“I thought you’d build up enough muscle,” he said, looking you over. “I didn’t take into account...other factors.”

Your eyebrows knitted together. “My...age?”

His crimson gaze caught yours, holding for a moment before he looked away. “Something like that.”

You stared at him but he didn’t elaborate, padding over to pick up your sword belt and previous blade from the ground. He held them out in a large, calloused hand. “Bring this back to Tokoyami. Then you’re dismissed.”

You took them from him, nodding. “Thank you again, Captain. I....appreciate it.”

A smirk overtook his handsome face. “Don’t embarrass me again at drills.”

A flush overtook your face so quickly it felt like you were scalded by your own skin. “I won’t, sir.”

He considered you a moment, then turned on his heel and set off across the field, waving a hand dismissively. “Get to the armory, princess,” he called over a broad shoulder, “I want you back in your bunk by sundown. No more late night escapades.”

You watched him go, something like a smile touching your mouth. A foreign feeling washed over you and you stopped to think on it for a moment.

For the first time in months, you felt like you were in the right place.

#bakugou x reader #fanfic #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki

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starrysupercell · 3 years ago

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Sooo... Now that its my wif- Tara's birthday... Are the Mystics (And Bo) gonna celebrate it :D? I can imagine Gene trying to set up some kind of surprise party for her, that would remain a surprise for like 4 minutes...

DANG IT. Past 12. TwT

But here you go! An outline for how Tara’s birthday is celebrated this year. 🧿 best fortune teller in Starr Park tbh. Your wife says hi 💜

I really gotta start keeping track of the Birthdays to have these things planned out.

One of the many good things about how much time Tara and Gene have known each other, is he knows she'll figure it out.

The surprise for her will be not the fact that there's a party because she can easily see that, but the extent of it, because she can promise not to sneak a peek at it.

(But now she's curious! Also, she's so used to checking on the future,* it takes a very conscious effort to not do so.)

So, while Gene keeps Tara preoccupied by taking a walk around the Park, Sandy, the Tribe, Gale and Mortis (because they're also friends with the Mysticals bc of the skins, shush.) are in charge of decorating.

So, with only two responsible adults in this group, how well do you think this is going to go? :)

Gale: So do you have a plan for the setup?

Sandy: hm? >.o oh. Yy*yawns*eah. here you go... *hands him a paper*

Gale: ...this just has a rough sketch of the main room and a couple of balloons.

Sandy- mm..felt sleepy but there's still.... -.-...time to...zzzz....

Gale:

Mortis laughs because well they'd just have to wing it! (He would definitely ask Emz for help, but she's busy with the teen crew for plot convenience) As long as decorations are already bought, it should an easy thing in setting it up the way they want it to look.

....decorations are already bought, right?

Sandy softly snores, and the Party Crew realizes that's their answer.

Meanwhile, Gene and Tara walk through the Park. The plan is picking up a few extra gifts along the way before heading back to the main party.

Their first stop is Barley's for some drinks! He gifts one bottle of Tara’s preferred drink, but does charge for the rest. Along the way, we see Brawlers greeting Tara and wishing her well on her birthday.

Colette’s very enthusiastic! She knows all the Brawler’s birthdays, and wanted to make something for Tara!

She doesn’t really have extra money recently, since there was some recent change in management, and she usually makes more detailed items, but because of the money problem, couldn’t buy as many materials she needed, but she’s derailing, so she hands Tara her wrapped gift.

It’s a cute hand-made Shade Plush!

Tara is delighted and thanks her for it. It’s a pleasant surprise, and she appreciates it. Colette fangirls a bit, thanking her, and then waving bye as the Mystics carry on.

Back at the Bazaar, they're trying to brainstorm on what to do. Well, half of them present are. Sandy is asleep and Nita + Leon are playing around the house.

Mortis says the only things he has back home are.. well, decorations of a more... gothic type..you know,.. (Halloween decors. they’re Halloween decors.)

Gale also offers up... some Snowtel hangings, but again, ‘tis not quite the right season to be jolly.

Bo suggests makeshift decorations. The twins are good at crafts! .. but more so along the lines of forest materials, not sand and...

Everyone’s drawing a blank, and decide that they could gather up their own share of materials, and see what could work best. Their time limit won’t really allow a break after all.

So Gale contacts Lou and asks him if he could meet him halfway with everything he can carry. Try not to get caught by the Penguin boss. Lou, ever the chaotic good guy agrees.

Bo gathers up Leon and Nita and they head out to see what they can scrounge up.

Mortis wonders if he should call up Frank too since he’ll be here later to set up and provide the music, but decides to be ~generous~ and just send a flock of his Bats to pick some things up for him. He sees them off adoringly.

With a content sigh, he lounges back and waits for his precious lovelies to return with his ideal decorations. Sandy sleeps on...

Back with Gene and Tara, the next item to pick up is the cake. Piper has the order ready-- a black forest chateau cake.

“Magnificent taste, darlings!” she compliments. she has it all boxed up very fancily. “It’s on the house. Take it as my gift for you. Happy birthday!”

She’ll also be attending the party later. Tara thanks her for the cake. She and Gene then take their leave.

Along the way to their last stop at the new Castle environment for the food, (because while they don’t know Ash very well yet, Tara loves trying out the new items and pizza is always great for a party.)

“Hey, Tara! ...hold up.” Edgar jumps down from a building they’re passing, just because he can and . “...this is from the rest of the Gang. Me too, I guess. Happy birthday.”

The party squad are actually worse off than before.

The Shaman Tribe are back, and the Twins became interested in using fabrics to try and make something too. so they’re playing around with it pretty much.

Gale just arrived, with Lou joined along because he was interested in the party planning too. (So, the snowtel is understaffed right now.) but they’re just chatting instead of working.

Mortis’ bats haven’t arrived yet, and he’s getting worried. They don’t usually take this long in running errands for him.

Leon and Nita are practically playing catch right now. They knock over something that looked priceless. Oh, a crystal ball, perhaps. Bo reprimands them.

They haven’t gotten much closer to making up the room...

There’s a knock, and the group freezes because oh no, they’re out of time. but it ends up being Frank. A very unhappy Frank who was suddenly surrounded by screeching batties who kept picking apart the house while he was packing up his set up for the party. They followed him there afterwards, along with several things.

Mortis tries joking it off ;; , and then very quietly and off-handedly apologizes when Frank doesn’t find it very funny.

But then so hey!!! you’re here so decoration time, everybody! let’s hop to it!

Gene’s Lamp, Sliver, floats in. Sent by Gene himself to check on the progress. They were nearing after all. The Lamp’s alarmed by what it sees. That is, absolutely nothing.

It glares around, and spots Sandy still sleeping. Sliver floats over to him, and hops on him-- Wake up!

Sandy does so, but is very grumpy. “what?”

Tara’s Birthday.

“yeah? what about it?”

Don’t you care?

“obviously.” he swats at the lamp. “it’s tomorrow.”

>:( Today. It’s TODAY.

“,” Sandy looks around, as wide-eyed as he could be.

broken crystal ball, a mix of decorations, and nobody currently fixing up anything from the looks of it.

They’re on the way.

Sandy makes a face. “ok... game plan on the fly.”

The final stretch of the day out.

Gene and Tara are nearing the Bazaar, and along the way, Gene starts to get heartfelt.

He reminisces how they first met, how far they’ve traveled together, how much longer they’ve yet to go.

He wishes he could think of something to give her that meant something like the other gifts that she received that day.

He was a Genie, but after everything they’ve been through, she deserves much, much more than what he could ever imagine to conjure up for her.

Tara smiles. “(Don’t... put me on too high a pedestal, my Friend.”)

Don’t sell yourself short either. You’ve done so much.

“(Yes. I have.)” Tara muses unhappily, thumbing the doll.

Gene suddenly gets the idea of what his gift could be, but he needs his Lamp to start on it.

Right before the two opened the door, a pair of bats were hanging up the last decoration.

And when the two walked in with the final party supplies at hand and are amazed at the display.

intricate ice sculptures and a more snowy feel set up where the food would go. the music section where Frank set up (who was talking with Mortis.) had a darker aesthetic, including the balloons over there.

Lastly the rest of the place was decorated with very cute works of art. no doubt the Tribe kid’s handiwork. she recognized it from when they stayed over, and the gifts Bo’s gotten from them and shown her.

You’d think that the seemed like the mix of fancier silver decorations, a more gothic theme and natural crafts would look odd together... and well, it was quaint, but it was very pleasing to see.

a patchwork of oddities, not unlike this park, really. She’s always been fond of odds and ends. Tara loved it!

Sandy yawns and walks over to them. “we actually just got done with the set up. but if it makes you feel better, we can still hide right now and yell surprise.”

Tara laughs. It’s okay.. it isn’t like she could be-- but she appreciates it. Sandy shrugs, like he didn’t just call all the shots and work in a hurry with the other eight. “you’re welcome.”

Lou offers to help set up the food and cake. Gale helps too, after presenting his gift too.

Frank and Mortis notice the arrival of the Birthday Gal and wave her over. They chat animatedly-- it’s been so long since they’ve had the chance to catch up! They should plan something soon. Tara agrees, and their gift is from the both of them. I can see it being a very nice piece of clothing, though I’m drawing a blank as to what.

The Lamp reunites with Gene, and their perspectives merge again. Oh. the party was really cut close, huh? but it worked out well! what a relief. a scrap book of actual memories is what you have in mind? how very sappy.... She would like it.

Lastly, Bo walks up to Tara, greeting her and wishing her well on this day. He hopes she likes what they helped with ....he then has the Twins apologize for breaking a few things around the house--

Tara dismisses it easily. They can be replaced. The Twins, that is. (joke to scare them.) But really, as long as they were careful from now on, it was okay. the cub and chameleon agree with no hesitation and then run off to cause more mayhem, but quieter this time.

The Psychic smiles. The guests would be arriving soon, and it was already so lively.

Time to party~!

_______

*I’m still deciding on the extent of her powers, so future sight might not be a thing, because of the characterization I have for her. I’m thinking something along the lines of “Can see past events, and make very informed guesses based on what she knows about people, but cannot see the future itself.”

#Brawl Stars #Birthday #Tara #My Outlines #Mystic Triad #Shaman Tribe #Mortis #Gale #Frank #my interpretation of Gene is um different from canon #if it's confusing #maybe i'll explain. uwu

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citydreamgrls · 4 years ago

Text

they were roommates - part five

a weasley twins x fem!reader fic

summary: she had nowhere to go, fleeing home to pursue something along the lines of freedom, so being welcomed into the entrepreneurial twins life was a whole world of new experiences waiting to happen.

an: this is crazy that as i’m posting this i’m already past 800 followers, thank you guys so so much !! hope you enjoy this ever growing series <333

words: 4,300

Fred wasn’t being particularly mean with y/n, it was more that he was just avoiding her a lot more than usual. And now she had started noticing, George too, as he started hiding away in his room whenever he got a chance. They had tried asking him to watch a movie after dinner, or go and visit the other shops in the alley, but he would always decline. By now, his claims of tiredness or headaches were getting old and y/n started grilling the other twin about why Freddie wasn’t the same.

“Is he mad about Bill, was it out of line for me to say yes to the date- since i’m living here and all. Oh god, I suppose that would make things awkward if it didn't work out with Bill and I” she rambled on, to which George almost laughed.

He knew it was most likely the opposite. The girl agreeing to date Bill had caused much more tension that she realised. The man knew his twin was just trying to distance himself, if he was hurt by it all, but it was becoming too obvious now.

The day before y/n’s date, Ginny had come by to whisk her off to the dress shop, insisting that she must wear something new. George had slipped some money into the girl’s bag when she wasn’t watching, knowing his little sister would try to cover the cost herself.

Fred had been fine, manning the till with his usual cheery persona, almost as if he could only be himself when the girl wasn’t around. George had just about seen enough of it, and decided it was about time they really talked about it.

The last customer had just gone, leaving them in an eerily quiet, as only the sound of people passing by could be heard.

“What’s up with you?” George stated, not wasting any time. His brother barely looked up at him as he tried to busy himself.

“Nothing-” “Leave it out, just tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” He sniffed, rubbing the back of his neck. He wanted to say everything, to spill to his replica about all the pain his own feelings have caused.

But he knew it would end with a harsh, I told you so.

“Then why are you avoiding y/n… if it’s nothing.”

“I’m not avoiding her!” George could see the way his eyes were raw, void of any feeling.

“You refuse to be in the same room as her for more than a few minutes, you don’t even eat with us anymore!”

“I’m just tired a lot, and I’m not really hungry anymore-” He tried to make out that he didn’t understand it either, like he was under some sort of curse.

“I hear you, when you think we’re all asleep, sneak into the kitchen- are you really that desperate to avoid her that you starve yourself until she’s gone.”

Fred hung his head in defeat, finally feeling that blow to his stomach. Because in his mind, yes, he was that desperate to get over her that he would genuinely do anything. Even if it meant hurting himself.

“She’s worried about you Freddie,” George came over, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder, showing more concern than anger. That was all it took for him to crack.

“I can’t stop it, I can’t not want her anymore- I’m trying George, I r-really am.” His voice wavered, like he was tired of keeping it down all this time.

“Then tell her, don’t just-” “I can’t get in their way George, it’s wrong.” He sighed.

“But you cou-”

“If she likes Bill, which she must do to some extent, then who am I to stand in their way?”

The two brothers stood in the dimming shop, the sun’s light going down over the alley outside. Fred was spent of emotion, having had enough nights of crying to last him a lifetime. George knew he was right, that trying to get between Bill and y/n would only make him the bad guy, but it hurt to see him this hurt by a girl.

“This is all I can do, just take a step back and let it happen.”

“And what about you? When do you start being yourself again?” George asked. “When it stops hurting.”

As the girl returned to the loft; Fred, on cue, disappeared to his room and didn’t come out until later that night when they were all asleep. It was late, as the girl had been particularly excited about the next day and stayed up chatting with George.

She had gushed over her new dress, exclaiming how her and Ginny’s taste were so similar that the whole day had been perfect.

“I think she wants to teach me how to ride a broom, but I’m not sure I’d have any sort of instincts for it.” The girl had laughed.

“Maybe let us show you how instead, Ginny can get a bit brutal on a broom, and we need you in one piece.” The girl fell back into the sofa, George’s outstretched arms enveloping her in a tight squeeze.

“What’s up chick?” He asked, feeling her sink back a little.

“He’s still mad isn’t he?” Her voice was hushed as she looked up at Freddie’s bedroom door. “That’s why he keeps hiding,” “He’s grumpy- that’s all.” George lied, knowing his brother could look past the insult just this once, for her sake.

“It’s my fault isn’t it?”

“Of course no-” “Has he said anything to you?” She pleaded, her eyes longing to know the truth as she finally turned to look up at him.

The man wasn’t sure what to tell her, and it was hard enough to lie already.

“Yes.” He decided on. “But it’s all gonna be okay, you don’t need to worry.” The girl nodded along, not quite convinced with his answer but satisfied that he wasn’t going to elaborate just yet. So she got up, gave him a quick hug, and excused herself to bed with the reasoning that they had yet another long shift before her date tomorrow.

George just smiled, watching the girl leave, and looked up at Fred’s door when he heard a quiet click. The man stood behind it, warily watching down on the loft.

“She’s gone.” He told her, “You can come down.” Fred nodded, padding down the small set of steps, and stopping in front of his brother awkwardly.

“You want something to eat? I made enough for you, it’s in the fridge.” He asked him, to which the other twin just shook his head, understandably not up for a chat this evening.

“I- I was gonna go for a walk.” He struggled out, with a hoarse voice.

“Now? Isn’t it a bit late?”

“Only around the alley, I won’t be long.”

George just nodded, there was no point stopping him, so he watched him grab a jacket and head out of the loft to the shop floor. His footsteps were careful and quiet, as he tried not to draw the girl’s attention as she laid in her room alone.

Fred enjoyed the air, he now realised, more so at night as he wandered through the deserted alley alone. It was cold, freezing almost, which made him shudder even though he’d pulled on the thickest coat he owned.

The loft was becoming like a prison for him, one he’d put himself in, as he confined himself to the four walls of his room every evening. George’s words from earlier that day played through his mind, one bit sticking out uncontrollably, as hard as he tried to ignore it.

She’s worried about you freddie

Was the girl really worried about him? He wanted nothing more than to be fine, even if it was for her, he wanted to reassure her that nothing was wrong. But Freddie didn’t want to lie to the one girl he truly loved.

He couldn’t hear anyone nearby, but the man couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched somehow. He stayed alert, looking down every passageway he followed until he was sure that it was purely paranoia.

By the time he got home, he had been expecting no one awake with the hopes that he could slip back up to bed unnoticed. But her light was on, he could see so the second he stepped back into the shop. The door behind him made a noise as it shut, making him jump.

Fred moved quickly, grabbing his keys and locking it so he could be gone before she came to see what was going on. He heard her voice call out as he passed by her room, a gentle and questioning tone, but he just ignored it and started up the stairs praying that he hadn’t scared her at all.

When he finally got into bed his heart was racing, louder than any faint noise that was made throughout the loft, his eyes staring up at the ceiling as he tried to calm himself down. All the while his head reminded him of how much of a wimp he was being.

The small burst of adrenaline tired him out, the second he closed his eyes all of his worries were forgotten. He forgot about her, he forgot about Bill, he forgot about the shop, but most of all he forgot about the wards that he hadn’t set when he came back in.

The jolt scared Fred awake.

“Hey!” George hissed above him, a hand on his shoulder. For a second he thought he’d been woken up in the middle of a nightmare, sweaty and breathing heavily.

A smashing noise from the shop caught both of their attention, the half-asleep man now well awake and reaching for his.

“Someone's downstairs!” George exclaimed, still in a hushed tone, wasting no time heading out into the living room. Fred grabbed a shirt and pulled it on, following his brother without hesitation.

They opened the loft door carefully, moving slowly as not to alert the intruders.

“What about y/n?” Fred asked, the girl momentarily slipping his brother’s mind as they stood at the top of the stairs.

A blood-curdling scream sounded. That was it, before George could even react to the sound, Fred was pushing past him, running down the stairs with reckless abandon. He didn’t care who was down there, or what they were capable of doing. She was alone, she needed them.

“FRED!” George shouted after him, following him down to the shop just in time to see his brother dodge a curse from someone else hiding behind a shelf as he raced to y/n’s bedroom. He brandished his own wand, aiming it at wherever the spark had flown from, and saw movement.

“Locomotor mortis!” He cried out, hearing the stranger’s body slam to the ground as his legs bound together. Another figure rushed past his peripheral vision, leaving it unsure as to how many assailants Fred had left him to deal with.

“Fred come here, there’s more!” He tried, but knew his brother was tied up with the girl.

“Y/n!” Fred shouted as he entered her bedroom, praying he’d made it in time. She sat upon her bed, still dressed in her pyjamas, with a man holding her down. His hand was placed over her mouth, her muffled screams useless as she writhed beneath his hold.

“Let her go!” He demanded, holding his wand out threateningly.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, whatever hex you try will only hurt her more.” The man sneered, pulling her closer to him with a dirty grin. The girl grimaced, and Fred could hear the way she tried to scream out his name. Her eyes begged for him to save her.

The man stood up, dragging her to her feet along with him. But Fred held his ground, refusing to move even a step back from them.

“I know who you are,” He started, his yellow teeth bearing. “All of you Weasleys, really don’t know how to protect the things you love.” Fred knew he meant the shop, but he couldn’t help but stare at the girl in this grotesque man’s arms.

“Let her go, now!” His arm was outstretched, his voice booming with anger. He would have killed him on the spot if he hadn’t heard George cry out for him.

“Fred!” They all jumped at the noise, the girl catching Fred’s eyes quickly and giving him a small nod. He wasn’t sure what she meant, until she pulled hard at the man’s arms, catching him off guard. It wasn’t enough to free herself, but she threw her head back, smacking his nose.

“You bitch!” He groaned, stumbling back and taking her with him. Fred gave up trying to aim hexes and lunged for him, managing to gain control over the man and throwing enough blows to his face that the grip he had on y/n broke and she crawled away.

“Petrificus totalus!” He shouted, stunning the fighting man still and sighing in relief as he froze up beside her bed. She watched him from across the room, cowering against her wardrobe with a hesitant look in her eyes, her eyes that were covered in tears. Silent tears.

“Fred,” She whispered, finally seeing his face again when he turned to look at her. The man saw the way she curled her body up, knees pressed tightly against her chest in fear. It was quiet, every sound louder than it should have been against the silence, as Fred got up and approached her calmly, like she was a scared animal.

George rushed in, out of breath and sporting a few scratches along his forearms. Nothing that couldn’t be ignored when he knew both his brother, and their closest friend, were safe. One glance at the ground, where the other twin sat, told him they needed to be alone.

“I’ll sort this out.” George spoke quietly, dragging the body out as quickly as he could.

“Thanks.” Fred whispered, but y/n kept her mouth shut, stunned into silence by the sight of the vile man.

The silent tears broke into heavy sobs, her whole body shaking in shock as Fred did all he could to hold her crumbling form upright against himself. It broke his heart, just to think about how scared she must have been… or still was. He could hear what it was doing to her, but he would never understand. He wanted to understand, he wanted more than anything to keep her safe. He wanted her.

Neither one of them moved for the better part of an hour, with waves of tears coming and going as the events of that night played over the poor girl’s mind. But no matter what, Freddie never tried to move her, or let go, he could feel the way her hands clung to him as he shielded her face from the room. That beautiful room which was forever tainted with the unsavory memory of screaming and begging.

“Do you want to sleep?” He finally spoke, his voice dry after they’d just held one another all that time. The girl shook her head, still buried in his chest.

“Are they still out there?” She asked.

“I think so, but the aurors will be by to take them away.” “I’ll wait.”

The thought of seeing any of them laying there, on their perfect shop floor, made the girl’s stomach churn. Freddie was safe, he was comforting, he was the only thing holding her in one piece right now.

The little window that sat near the top of her bedroom wall began to let the sunrise in, a small ray of light that reflected onto her bedside table. The man watched it flicker over her few possessions that she kept close to her, some he didn’t recognise. And others were little gifts he and George had given her over the fleeting weeks that the girl had graced them with her bright presence. He wished that would come back.

After George came to tell them it was cleared up, Fred took the girl up to the loft, lifting her effortlessly from the ground and letting her curl up against him as he walked. He knew she wouldn’t want to stay in that room much longer, and definitely not alone.

“Here we go,” he let out a sigh, setting her down on the sofa. She seemed out of place now that he wasn’t holding her like a broken child, and Fred could tell. “Do you need a drink?” He asked. The girl shook her head. “Okay, I’m going to make coffee-” Y/n seemed nervous, her eyes tracing the room as if something was going to pop up from beneath the floorboards. “Do you wanna come help?” She nodded, a glimpse of a smile wavering on her face as he held her hand again.

She sat quietly in the kitchen, watching the man move around calmly, making sure his hands were busy the entire time. Still, he would give her a quick look, just to check that she was alright.

“Are you tired?” Fred asked her.

“A little.”

“Come on then?” With a mug in one hand, and hers in the other, he led her up to his room where he had spent all those days hiding away from her.

It was dark, but cosy, covered in deep blues with the occasional moving poster on the walls as the girl gazed around in sedated awe. She had never seen his room, the occasion not having come up until this moment. Then she remembered why she was there in the first place.

“Get comfy.” he smiled, pulling back the covers for her and standing awkwardly as she curled beneath them.

“Can you stay… Please freddie?” the girl’s voice called out, a sound that he had missed, as he went to leave. It took a few seconds for him to react, nodding assuredly and dragging his desk chair to sit beside where she laid down.

Her smile appeared, soft and gentle, and so heartbreaking. There was no need for her to smile, but she still did for him, just for him. One of her hands peeked out of the covers as he watched her silently, tentatively reaching for his, that hung beside him so she could play with his fingers.

That was how she drifted off, her hands interlocked with his with a familiar warmth that reminded Freddie just how perfect she was. Her face was soft, pressed against the pillow, her nose twitching every now and then like she was fighting an itch. The man thought it adorable.

When the sleeping angel woke, it was from a nightmare, her screams stopping abruptly when she realised that no one was going to hurt her. Fred had rushed to her aid as soon as she stirred, sitting on the bed and holding her close as she let out a few tears of relief.

He hushed her, one hand stroking her hair. The girl asked if he could keep hugging her, to which he agreed of course, taking place beside her on the bed and letting her fold into his body. Her arms wrapping around him tightly as if he was a teddy bear. He would do anything for her, he thought as she bounced in and out of sleep, mumbling incoherent questions as not to bore him.

“You can sleep if you need darling.” He chuckled deeply, the vibration rippling through his chest and onto her head. She nuzzled deeper, liking the comfort it brought, and shook her head.

“I don’t want to sleep again,” He knew what she really meant, she didn’t want to sleep because she didn’t want to dream.

“Okay then…”

Moments later a small tone began playing on Fred’s beside table, waking them both momentarily. The man scrambled for his wand, flicking it towards the alarm clock and settling back down with a sigh.

“We need to get up.” The girl groaned, trying to move from his hold, unsuccessfully.

“The shop’s closed today.” He reassured her, keeping her body in place. “Just rest up.” The girl giggled at the way he encoppassed her so easily and fell complacent beneath his arms.

“But, surely we should-” “This is all you need to do darling, George has it handled okay?”

Y/n liked the way he spoke to her, his muffled voice like a soothing hum when she could hear it deeper against his chest. The girl blushed at the way he called her darling, used to hearing it from George but never from Fred. After thinking that Fred was pissed off with her, this proved that was far from the truth.

“You don’t have to go, I’m sure Bill would understand.” Fred tried to explain casually, not wanting to show how much he disliked the idea. He handed the girl, who sat cross legged on his bed, a plate of toast even after she’d urged him not to.

“Thanks,” She mumbled, taking a mousy bite. “I shouldn’t cancel, not really.”

“You’ve been through a lot, y/n.” He was looking her in the eye, sat on the chair beside the bed again. Fred wanted to say more, try and tell her it was a bad idea, but that was just cruel. It was her decision.

“It would only disappoint him, and I don’t want to do that to Bill.” The girl nodded, as if she had made her mind up. All the man could do was mirror her, finally understanding that maybe things weren’t going to change just because he willed them to.

“That’s fine, but I’ll send him an owl and let him know what’s happened… in fact I should tell everyone at the burrow too.”

He busied himself at his desk, trying to ignore the ever growing pain in his heart as he wrote out both letters. Behind him, y/n just watched his back tense every now and then.

“Are you okay?” She asked him, and his body froze again, as if he was in pain.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He said in an oddly cheery tone. She felt stupid for asking.

“Just a lot going on I suppose…” Her voice trailed off as she got more embarrassed.

“It’ll be okay from now on.” He told her.

But something deep down was wrong. Despite his optimistic words, and the fact that he was actually okay being in the same room as her, y/n could tell that things between her and Fred had changed.

It wasn’t worth bringing up, she told herself over and over, chanting herself to sleep once again as Fred left the room to send off the letters. Her eyes were closed when he returned and he let out a deep sigh.

The girl wanted to wince at how exhausted he sounded. She had done this to him, somehow, and now he had to be nice to her just because of the break-in.

“I’m sorry I never said anything.” The man whispered, a hand reaching to stroke the hairs that fell over her face. He wished she was awake, but he was too much of a coward to ever admit how he felt to her. Especially not when she was so willing to see Bill.

The day passed by, filled with plenty of naps, and soon enough nightfall was upon the trio. The girl had gone to shower, leaving Fred to make his bed in her absence. He wanted nothing more than to just sleep through it all, close his eyes and forget all about her. That way he would never feel this heartbreak again.

George stood in the doorway.

“You alright mate?” He asked, making his brother jump a little as he rearranged the pillows.

“Oh- god- yeah I’m fine.”

“Do you um- wanna talk about-” “You know what, I really don’t wanna talk at all.” Fred sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He was too tired to fight about it again. “I just want to ignore it, and let it pass, and get on with my life.” “It’s not too late you know.” “It most definitely is Georgie, she’s out there getting ready to leave.” He hissed, hearing the bathroom door open again.

There was a flash of white, it caught Fred’s attention as he stood in front of his brother. He frowned when she called out for them.

“Where are you guys?” It had been a harmless question, but both twins rushed out of the room. “There you are,” She chuckled nervously, brushing her dress down.

The dress. The one that Fred wanted to look at for hours, but also wished he had never seen at all. The girl stood still, her fingers playing with the hem that stopped at her thighs. It had embroidered flowers all over it, and sleeves that looked like tiny wings on her arms. She was an angel. Fred was speechless, unaware that George had filled the silence with compliments while he just nodded.

The fireplace roared green, all of them turning to see Bill burst into the living room with worry all over his face. He ran to the girl first, engulfing her in a hug as she just laughed.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t come sooner,” He spoke into the top of her head, lovingly.

“That’s okay.”

He gushed over her, making her tell him she was okay about forty times before they even thought about leaving. Only when the girl pointed out that they were gonna be late for their reservation did Bill bid the boys goodbye and take her hand with a proud smile.

This is good, Fred told himself. They’re happy together. She’s happy, and that’s what she deserves. Nothing else matters.

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twilightofthe · 4 years ago

Note

What was your opinion of the Clovis arc? People I know either love it or hate it, no in between. I generally liked it but found it waayyy ooc.

Hey anon, thanks for the ask!!!!

AHSJFLSLALK OK SO UH. Wow. Clovis arc. Yiiiiiiikes ok so. I totally agree with you on the fandom divide and I also totally agree that everyone involved in it is rather OOC for my taste. That being said, that case of OOC is exactly why I personally do not like the arc that much at all.

(Please note that my following words are MY PERSONAL OPINIONS, and that anyone is free to disagree, in fact I welcome the discussion, and even if this is your favorite arc, please consider yourself welcome on my blog I hold nothing against those who might like it)

Part of me was gonna make a short and sweet point about how I don’t like that TCW has had both of its main female characters have unwanted kisses forced on them, and instead of teaching young girls watching to tell those kinds of people to fuck off and respect their bodies, we get: 1. Just let it happen, you both must kinda like each other anyway or 2. Stay still then sit back while your boyfriend beats him half to death

But actually turns out I wanted to spend all day writing an essay so now you get this. So far I’m gonna hit four points:

the show’s constant need for Vader foreshadowing sometimes tending to completely override Anakin’s current mindset and personality he should have at this point in the timeline as well as his preestablished characterization

the way TCW gave Anakin a giant dosage of toxic masculinity to try and please the pissy movie critics who didn’t like that he cried

the role of Padmé and how TCW tries to portray her as a “strong woman” by just having her constantly be irritated by and sometimes even look like she actively dislikes her husband while simultaneously have her act OOC so they can blame HER and her actions for Anakin’s reactions and anger and overall Fall

How I think this arc is not irredeemable and that with some fixes it could be done decently— decently, not well, because a lot of this arc’s problems are also due to preexisting writing choices throughout the show

(Ok whoops this turned into a half Clovis arc rant half entire TCW Anidala commentary)

So firstly I wanna start that yes, I am fully aware that TCW is meant to fill in the gaps between AOTC and ROTS and help explain why Anakin’s mindset in the final movie is what it is and justify his Fall. Of course we need to show some Vader foreshadowing throughout the series, and in some places it is executed very well, notably the Mortis arc, the Bad Batch arc, the Wrong Jedi arc, as well as others that I can’t cite off the top of my head currently because I might have a mild touch of heat exhaustion wooo I need to get off the beach.

But it also has some rather hamfisted Vader foreshadowing stuff too. Like, y’all know the fandom joke where it’s like “Anakin: *Accidentally Leaves The Toilet Seat Up*. The Background Music: *BLASTS the Imperial March*” but like, they actually really do that. Like the time where they have Anakin take out a terrorist about to blow up an entire ship full of people and then play the Imperial March afterwards and imply he’s a “cold-blooded killer” just to defend the moral purity of the two people who were gonna stand there and let the ship blow in the name of idealism.

I’m getting off topic but yeah, sometimes the show’s Vader foreshadowing makes sense, sometimes it’s pretty forced, and the Clovis arc DEFINITELY leans towards the forced side, and when they try to force more of Darth Vader into Anakin at a point where he shouldn’t quite be there yet, it screws with his entire character.

This is particularly shown in the majority of the show’s takes on Anakin’s relationship with Padmé. Namely, they tend to forget nearly the entirety of AOTC with the exception of the Tusken murder scene, then forget even more of ROTS up until the point where Anakin strangles her on Mustafar. Basically, they take the truth that it was Anakin’s unhealthy attachment to Padmé that sparked his Fall, but then they decide to run with it where almost every single interaction he has with her in the damn show is him being a toxic overbearing dick to her and her acting like she mildly tolerates him at most and definitely doesnt respect him as like, I guess a way of showing what happened on Mustafar is in character for them???? Ugh, I’ll explain further.

So with Anakin’s aggressive possessiveness towards her. We know Anakin has possession and attachment issues. We know he’s a clingy needy whiny anxious mess who’s constantly afraid of losing or driving away the few people he has pinned his entire happiness on. We know he leans unhealthily on Padmé to provide the majority of his emotional support. We know he’s convinced himself he can’t live without her. But never, NEVER is it seen in the movies where his possessiveness turns into outward aggression towards her or this douchey pushiness. Never does he treat her like his property, like she belongs to him.

Not until Mustafar.

Not until he’s raving, half out of his mind with the warring emotions over the atrocities he’s just committed, until he’s begging her to understand where he was coming from, begging her and the child to stay with him and justify his decision, until he sees Obi Wan and sees her backing away from him, leaving him, and he PANICS because oh no no no you can’t abandon me, I need you, doN’T YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME. And he lashes out and tries to force her to stay, punish her for leaving and doubting him, and he puts that hand around her throat.

And that is supposed to be when we know he’s crossed the line, when we’re supposed to be horrified, where we know he’s lost himself, because he has NEVER ACTED LIKE THAT BEFORE.

Now how does Anakin act before? In the movies? He’s deferential to Padmé in almost every other scene they’re in together.

In AOTC, yeah he stares at her a bit creepily from a distance, he says awkward things and does goofy stuff to impress her, but he does Not get in her face. The few times he does invade her space, she flat out tells him: stand back. Don’t look at me like that. Don’t say that. Don’t interrupt me. And Anakin always, always backs off, respects her wishes. He follows her lead and lets her call the shots both on Naboo when he’s supposed to be protecting her and when she organizes the Geonosis rescue and once they arrive where she flat out tells him “I’m a Senator, I’ll handle this, just back me up”, and he’s all but just “ok yes queen”.

But they aren’t married then. Fine, take ROTS. It’s a movie all about Anakin’s issues but even then, when he’s worried about Padmé dying, he tells her he’s worried and that he can’t lose her, but he still keeps a distance. He doesn’t constantly hover and loom over her. If anything, Padmé, both in ROTS and AOTC is always the one to approach Anakin and close the distance when there’s conflict. When Anakin is upset, he averts his eyes and distances himself, tries to draw in on himself and brood silently, and we’ve seen it in Palpatine sometimes (of course with bad motives but he still does), but Obi Wan and Padmé both especially needing to be the ones to come over, turn his face to them and be like “hey, look at me, I care about you, what’s wrong”. Padmé SAYS in ROTS when he’s feeling specifically conflicted about losing Padmé, “don’t shut me out” and has to come over to him because he’s retreated into a corner of the room to scowl angstily out the window. Anakin does NOT get overbearing and possessive of her or get in her face, not once in the films.

In the fucking show? The Clovis arc, while perhaps the worst offender, isn’t even close to being the first time Anakin has been overly pushy and aggressive with Padmé, or acting like she’s something he owns, From that time in the Senate Hostage ep where he’s bugging her about ditching work and all but acting like incels texting like “awww but babe my dick hurts :(”, from the FIRST Clovis disaster ep where he’s childishly trying to screw up Padmé’s mission, to the Clovis arc in season 6

And this is where they just roll right in with their “oh so Anakin’s an overbearing, entitled douche” bit with the interaction he has with Pads and he’s trying to talk her out of taking the Clovis assignment and he says something along the lines of “as your husband, I demand you don’t do this”.

Hwat. The Fuck.

What kind of caveman-esque, 1800’s-ass man of the house whom my wife must obediently serve kinda entitled-ass BULLSHIT?!?!?!?

Like, I’m sorry, I really am, but that is just completely out of left field and not like Anakin at all. I mean to the point that when he’s an evil Sith Lord trying to talk her into taking over the galaxy with him, EVEN THEN he does not include “Padmé you must join me because I’m your husband and you do as I say” sort of domineering assholerly.

Anakin does not push Padmé around. He does not TRY to assert authority over her or try and force her to do shit. Not only because she doesn’t put up with that kinda shit for a second, but because Anakin respects Padmé; he will treat her with respect. He always has, and sometimes like in this arc it really doesn’t feel like he does.

Now of course Padmé’s response to the “I own you” declaration is “fuck you, asshole, I do what I want” and doubling down on her decision, and then decides to go even harder on the mission if only to spite her douche husband (and we’ll get to Padmé’s characterization in a bit) which is a very different kind of Anidala conversation we see in the show as opposed to the movies (also discussed later).

Now, the reason for Anakin’s overbearing douchery ties directly into an overarching problem in TCW— honestly, one of the very few issues I have with this show, but the problem is that it touches nearly the entire thing —and that is they almost completely reworked Anakin’s personality to be more hyper-masculine alpha male.

This is a topic I’ve discussed on my blog before, but the gist is that in the movies, Anakin was not the typical male heroic protagonist and DEFINITELY not what people expected from Future Darth Vader The Masked Brutish Male Power Fantasy. He was awkward, he was shy, he was soft spoken, he was clumsy around the girl he liked, he was very openly romantic, he liked frolicking in fields and candlelit dinners and snuggling. Two of the most important people in his life were soft, feminine women and he openly loved them very dearly and very gently— and he deferred to them when he felt it was right, as I’ve mentioned before. He CRIED when he was upset and was messy and emotional. And fanboys hated this with a burning passion. They couldn’t project their power fantasy onto this!!!! The Anakin critics were a HUGE part of the mob who crucified the prequels to the point of chasing both Anakin actors practically out of the movie industry in general.

The Clone Wars writers were obviously petrified of this happening again. So their solution, as has always been Star Wars’s solution to hateful fans being upset about an innocent character, is to completely rework them, hide or retcon all the undesirable qualities, and act like everything was all fixed. Now don’t get me wrong, there are aspects of TCW Anakin that I adore. As I’ve also mentioned before, they got his humor, his cleverness, his eagerness to do the right thing, to help people, his relationship with Obi Wan and Ahsoka and his men, they got that all perfectly. But the rest??? TCW’s solution to the criticism of Movie!Anakin was to turn him into an agressive, dominant, violent shadow of everything “soft” he was in the movie

Now, he speaks loudly and more deeply. Now, he’s cocky and overconfident and while yes he was arrogant in the movies, now it’s dialed up to like an 11. He never cries, never even THINKS to show a negative emotion that’s not Manly Rage And Aggression(TM). And then there’s the way he is around the women in his life. No more awkwardness or shyness, now he makes jokes about being a “ladies man” and does whatever the fuck flirting he does with Miraj Scintel even though the Anakin from the movies would have needed like every scrap of his self control just to look at her without insta-murdering her face. And then there’s how he is with Ahsoka and Padmé. He is muuuuch more of a loud brash dudebro around them who pushes his weight and is kind of controlling and their solution is just to have the both of them be Strong Women(TM) who Fight Back whenever he tries it too hard with them.

With Ahsoka, it’s not too bad because it’s a brand new dynamic and she’s a rather agressive firecracker personality herself when we first meet her, so the constant Snips n’ Skyguy snipefest works for them. For Padmé? It just means that in far too many episodes they’re in there’s a point where Anakin says something Eh and Padmé gets mildly irritated to actually annoyed with him for it and she’ll talk down to him and then there’s an argument between them because he’s bullheaded and she’s a Strong Woman. Why do I consider these out of character?

In the movies, despite the flaws, Anidala is a couple who actually tries to communicate. Anakin feels open to speak about his troubles to Padmé and her to him (for the most part, she definitely has a savior complex and a tendency to squash her own shit so she can help deal with both Anakin’s and the galaxy’s at large) when they’re worried or concerned about something and they want to talk it out, so they’ll talk it out!

The problem with Anidala isn’t that they don’t communicate, it’s that they try but also only do it by halves because they hate fighting. They’ll talk, Anakin will say something that Padmé might disagree with— the fascism discussion in the Naboo field in AOTC, the question of whether the Republic is just or not in TPM —and she’ll try and correct him if she feels he’ll listen, but if he doubles down, she’ll go “ok you know what, agree to disagree, let’s not fight” and she subtly changes the subject because she hates fighting with him. If Pads says something Ani doesn’t like— telling Obi Wan about them in ROTS, some emotional advice she tries to give in both movies —he’ll flat out shut down and be like “I don’t want to talk about this, let’s drop it” and then seek out cuddles or affection as a distraction.

And that brings us back to the Clovis arc. The scene where the “as your husband” line occurs. Anakin is trying to talk Padmé out of doing this not because he’s jealous. Maybe he was jealous the first time he met Clovis and saw Padmé being all cute n’ fond with her old flame, but this time it seems almost entirely because last time ended in catastrophe and he’s genuinely worried for Padmé and feels she’s not thinking wisely, that she’s putting herself in danger.

However, Anakin is deciding to voice these concerns in Possessive Dudebro Pushing because of the aforementioned misguided Vader Foreshadowing and Toxic Masculinity. Padmé? Is not even CONSIDERING what he has to say, is just breezing on through and shutting him down at every turn and generally acting like he’s a dumbass who doesn’t have a clue about anything.

Now, it is very in character for Padmé Amidala to be all “I’m right, you’re wrong, fuck you don’t get in my way”. HOWEVER, they aren’t framing this as solely Padmé having a goal and bulldozing her way through the situation. That’s not how they frame this.

They frame this as: Padmé is embarrassed that she misjudged the situation wrong the last time and embarrassed even further that Anakin had to step in and get her out of trouble— which he brings up —and probably remembers that he made fun of her while he did it—

(Timing out to say that THAT scene was also OOC; they once more wanted a Vader parallel what with Anakin’s silhouette when he opens her cell door and the way Padmé’s sleeping pose is identical to Leia’s in ANH. But Anakin basically steps in and gives her this condescending-ass “awww the little wife’s gotten in over her head like I SAID she would, good thing I’m here to rescue her!” bit that’s really just MEAN. It’s not like him and Obi Wan’s/Ahsoka’s teasing snark whenever they have to pull each out of trouble, he’s just kicking her while she’s already down. Really, Anakin’s reaction should have been a lot less humorous and a lot more pissy; she didn’t listen to him, didn’t trust him, and ended up in danger because of it. It’d be a surly and upset “I told you so”, not an amused one.)

—and now it seems much more like Padmé is solely taking this assignment to spite Anakin for being a dick and to pettily prove that she knows what she’s doing rather than any sense or urge to do the right thing. And....... childish pettiness????? Is not Padmé. And yet, she has the entire immature “don’t tell me what to DO, Anakin” attitude this whole arc that amounts to WAY more than just the normal response she would have to his overcontrolling dickishness

And once again, it’s because she, like everyone else in the episode, seems to think the problem Anakin has is that he’s jealous of Clovis. He’s not, not really. He’s insecure, yes, but he also knows Clovis is a bag of dicks as well, and trusts that Padmé knows she’s better than that. His problem isn’t fears he’ll lose Padmé, it is entirely that Padmé isn’t listening to his concerns, doesn’t trust him, is going into a situation they both know is unwise, and he is frustrated he’s not in a position where he can look out for her since he feels she’s not looking out for herself. And, he’s not entirely wrong. Padmé IS being reckless and kind of irrational solely to prove a point. He just goes about it pretty much entirely the wrong way, which is what you can really say is the cause and effect formula for any problem Anakin Skywalker encounters and subsequently makes worse.

And then there’s That Scene. The one where Clovis tries to force a kiss on Padmé and Anakin freaks and almost kills him for it. I’ll start off by quoting another Tumblr user on that very scene by saying in regards to Clovis: “that bitch deserved that”. The almost murder? Maybe not that far, but the initial hitting for disrespecting someone’s “no”? Yep, that was deserved.

My first criticism is that Anakin shouldn’t have even had time to attack him because why the fuck wasn’t Padmé instantly kneeing him in the balls?!?! Like Padmé is not prone to violence immediately, no, but she can will and does defend herself immediately when she needs to— her right punch knocked someone tf out once when she was pissed —and she already gave him a warning that his advances were not welcomed.

Now, I am absolutely not victim blaming. I am NOT saying it is the fault of a woman (I’d be a hypocrite if I did and that’s all I’ll say on THAT), or of anyone when faced with sexual harassment, if they don’t fight back for whatever reason, no matter how capable of doing so they may be. What I’m saying is that considering her previous behavior and personality and the fact that the show NEVER goes deep enough into explaining heavy stuff like why victims might freeze or NOT fight back when faced with harassment, I feel like showing her not attempting to defend herself at all is kinda strange.

Now, Padmé’s utter passiveness to the situation aside, we’re going back into toxic masculinity and misunderstood interpretations of how Anakin displays possession. While I’ll repeat that Clovis deserved consequences for the forced kiss, Anakin going full caveman defending his property jealous rage just. Doesn’t feel right to me. Again, I think Anakin would probs hit him and put the fear of living god into him, maybe even I’d buy the attempted murder if they framed it as Anakin doing it because he hates those who force their will on others and disrespect women, but the whole that’s MY wife and you’re touching her shite just once more feels alpha male aggressive ridiculousness. Like again, I understand Anakin is possessive of Padmé, but not like this. I’m sorry, but I just cannot see that, him fighting over her like she’s a scrap of meat.

Like, I completely think she’s in the right tho to put them on a break after he does it though. That’s well within her right.

But then onto the FINAL part where after Clovis goofs and fucks them all over and then dies, she forgives him and blames herself for everything and apologizes. And like, that part I do see as in canon and character for her and for Anakin. He doesn’t like to admit his mistakes, her mistakes weigh on her and when she fails to fix or save someone, she falls into depression and upset and self-blame.

But the fact that Clovis died because Anakin dropped him? Anakin Skywalker, who scaled an entire elevator shaft carrying two people over his back who combined probs weighed more than Padmé and Clovis. Anakin Skywalker, who’s used the Force to lift tons of debris, who’s used it to hold back explosions, Anakin Skywalker, MOST POWERFUL FORCE USER IN HISTORY WHO TENDS TO RELY ON BRUTE STRENGTH FOR MOST SHIT ANYWAY. That Anakin couldn’t pull two people over a ledge?!?!?!?!? This has always bothered me.

Like to be honest; I feel this entire episode could have been so fixable too. Like keep Anakin’s obsessive worry over Padmé making a mistake, keep the best part of the arc which is his talk with Obi Wan where Obi Wan tries to connect with him and explain that he’s not alone, all Jedi have emotional struggles and have loved, if perhaps he wants to TALK to someone about it, Obi Wan is here for him, like that? That’s okay!

Just ugh ffs, get rid of the nasty Anakin treating Padmé like a naughty dog who won’t obey him and the Padmé purposely acting unwisely to spite Anakin plot. Have the entire conflict be both of them being upset that the other doesn’t trust them, doesn’t believe in their advice, keep Padmé’s speech about how marriages NEED trust and compromise to survive, take all of Anakin’s aggression towards Padmé and transfer it to aggression towards Clovis, like make the conflict him menacing the guy if he hurts Padmé again just because he’s being overprotective and “if you won’t look out for yourself I will” and Anakin getting constantly checked for not being able to control his emotions, Padmé can tell him off for being overprotective instead of overaggressive and his possessiveness can instead show through him arguing that he needs to keep her safe at all costs. THAT can be the argument.

And if they want the Vader foreshadowing? Like real, in-character Vader foreshadowing??? Tbh, drop the Clovis beatdown, drop the machoness towards Padmé, and just have Anakin blatantly DROP the douchebag at the end of the episode instead of his hand slipping. Make him choose to ACTIVELY kill Clovis. Like THAT, Anakin taking the law into his own hands and deciding that he knows best and this guy is dangerous and has fucked up one too many times, there being an opportunity where there’s an chance to save Clovis when they’re alone without Pads, “be a Jedi, Padmé wouldn’t want this, do the right thing” Clovis might say, and we can see Anakin’s face considering, and then he just “Long Live The King”s him and lets him fall and die, THAT is an in-character Vader foreshadowing.

Then at the end of the episode, we can have Anakin lie to her, say Clovis slipped, say it was too late, and Padmé can believe him, thank him for trying. Then there’s the same thing where Padmé apologizes, and we can have a callback to the convo about trust and she adds that she’s sorry that she didn’t trust him, and when she says that, we zoom in on Anakin’s guilty face.

There. That’s how I’d fix these episodes

And THERE, I think I’ve complained about everything, I am SO sorry for the gigantic ass post and response, I’ll add a read more once I’m on my laptop and not on the beach on mobile.

But yeah anon, I hope that satisfies your question xD

Once again, I welcome discussion if y’all either agree with me or if you have any differing opinions, I know my takes are far from hot for several people and I’m curious to see what others think!

#i’m SO sorry i got carried away but yeah this arc and one or two others (one in particular) are the only arcs that kiiinda set me off tbh #long post #ask #anon #one (1) hot mess #queen of my heart #star-crossed lovers #sw the clone wars #anidala #the clone wars

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