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withgracecarespecialists · 2 months ago

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How Nanny Agencies Offer Specialized Care Solutions for Families

Long Island, New York, September 2024 - For many families, finding the right childcare solution is one of the most crucial decisions they’ll make. Every family is different, and so are the needs of their children. While some may require a standard nanny service, others have unique situations that demand specialized care. This is where nanny agencies, particularly those offering specialized services, become invaluable. They offer tailored solutions for families who may have specific cultural preferences, children with special needs, or those who require non-traditional schedules.

What is the importance of specialized childcare?

Every family is unique, and so is every child. As such, the type of care that works for one family may not be suitable for another. A nanny agency that specializes in tailored solutions understands this concept and works to match families with caregivers who can meet their particular requirements.

Specialized child care goes beyond traditional nanny services. It may include care for children with physical, emotional, or developmental disabilities, children from bilingual or multicultural families, and those requiring care outside standard hours. Some families may even need nannies who are trained to handle medical conditions or developmental therapies.

Finding the right caregiver for these unique needs can be daunting for parents, but a reputable nanny agency can alleviate this stress by providing access to a range of qualified professionals with specific skill sets.

Tailored care for children with special needs

Children with special needs often require more than just basic childcare. Whether a child has a physical disability, developmental delay, or a behavioral disorder, the right nanny must have the appropriate training and experience to provide effective care. Nanny agencies that offer specialized care solutions for these families understand the unique challenges they face.

Some of the most common conditions requiring specialized care include:

Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)

ADHD (Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder)

Cerebral palsy

Down syndrome

Sensory processing issues

Nannies specializing in these areas often have advanced training in working with children who need extra support. They may be familiar with the latest therapies, communication techniques, and behavioral management strategies. Their role goes beyond basic care to include structured routines, therapeutic exercises, and adaptive communication methods that help children thrive in their everyday environments.

These nannies also provide much-needed emotional support to parents. Caring for a child with special needs can be emotionally taxing, and having a professional who understands the family’s challenges can be incredibly comforting.

Bilingual and multicultural care solutions

In today’s globalized world, many families value the opportunity to raise their children in a bilingual or multicultural environment. For these families, finding a nanny who speaks their language or understands their cultural customs is essential. Nanny agencies that offer specialized solutions understand these preferences and often have a pool of bilingual and multicultural caregivers available to meet these needs.

Whether a family wants their child to learn a second language, maintain a connection to their heritage, or experience a culturally diverse upbringing, a bilingual nanny can offer a meaningful solution. For instance, many families may want their children to be fluent in languages such as Spanish, French, Mandarin, or German. Bilingual nannies provide language immersion through daily interactions, play, and educational activities.

Moreover, multicultural nannies help foster an understanding and respect for diverse traditions, customs, and holidays. This can be especially beneficial in households where both parents come from different cultural backgrounds, or for expatriate families living in foreign countries.

Live-in nannies for around-the-clock care

In some cases, families may require 24/7 care due to their unique circumstances. These may include parents with demanding work schedules, frequent travelers, or those who need consistent, long-term help. Live-in nannies offer a viable solution for families seeking around-the-clock support.

A live-in nanny stays with the family and is available to provide care throughout the day and night. This arrangement is particularly beneficial for families with newborns, toddlers who require overnight attention, or parents who work unconventional hours. Live-in nannies are often trained to handle a variety of childcare responsibilities, from feeding and bathing to sleep training and developmental activities.

Having a live-in nanny provides parents with the flexibility and peace of mind that their children are well cared for, regardless of the time of day. This setup can also create a stronger bond between the nanny and the children, as the live-in nanny becomes a constant and trusted figure in their daily lives.

Temporary or on-call nannies for emergencies

Not all childcare needs are planned. There are situations where families require last-minute, emergency, or temporary childcare solutions. Whether it’s a family emergency, an illness, or an unexpected work commitment, nanny agencies that offer on-call or temporary nanny services can be a lifesaver.

Temporary nannies are available for short-term arrangements, ranging from a few days to a couple of months. They are particularly useful for families who may need care while their regular nanny is unavailable or when they’re traveling.

On-call nannies, on the other hand, are available for urgent situations, such as when a parent needs to work late or handle an emergency. These nannies can step in at a moment’s notice, providing reliable care when it's needed most. Nanny agencies with a large network of qualified professionals can ensure that families have access to trained caregivers who can accommodate last-minute requests without sacrificing quality.

Nannies with specialized training and certifications

One of the greatest benefits of working with a reputable nanny agency is the ability to find caregivers who have undergone specialized training. Many families require nannies with advanced certifications to care for children who need specific types of assistance. Some of the most common specialized training and certifications include:

CPR and first aid certification - Ensuring that nannies are certified in CPR and first aid is crucial, especially for families with infants or young children.

Newborn Care Specialist (NCS) training - NCS-certified nannies are trained to care for newborns and provide specialized support to parents during the early months of the baby’s life.

Special needs training - Nannies with this certification are equipped to care for children with disabilities or developmental challenges. They often have additional training in therapies, behavior management, and adaptive techniques.

Early childhood education - Nannies with a background in early childhood education can provide developmentally appropriate activities and learning opportunities for children. This is especially beneficial for families seeking a nanny who can double as an educational mentor for young kids.

Sleep training certification - Sleep-deprived parents of newborns or toddlers who struggle with sleep patterns can benefit from a nanny trained in sleep coaching and sleep training techniques.

Flexibility for families with non-traditional schedules

Not all families work a 9-to-5 schedule, and for those who have irregular or non-traditional hours, finding the right nanny can be challenging. Professionals in industries like healthcare, law enforcement, and the entertainment industry often work night shifts, weekends, or rotating schedules. A nanny agency that offers flexible care solutions can provide nannies who are available for early mornings, late nights, or even overnight shifts.

In these cases, nanny agencies work with families to find caregivers who are comfortable with non-traditional hours and can adjust their schedules as needed. This flexibility ensures that children receive consistent, high-quality care regardless of their parents’ work demands.

Emotional and social support for children

For many children, having a nanny is more than just having someone to take care of their basic needs. Nannies often play a significant role in providing emotional and social support, especially in households where parents work long hours or have other responsibilities. Specialized nannies are trained to understand the emotional and psychological needs of children, offering not only care but companionship and mentorship.

These nannies engage in activities that promote the child’s emotional well-being, such as reading, playing games, going on outings, and encouraging social interactions with other children. This kind of personalized attention can be especially beneficial for children who may feel lonely or anxious when their parents are away. Nanny agencies offering specialized care solutions have become an essential resource for families with unique childcare needs. Whether it’s caring for children with special needs, providing bilingual care, offering around-the-clock support, or finding a temporary or on-call nanny for emergencies, these agencies tailor their services to meet each family’s specific situation. If you are looking for a nanny agency on Long Island in New York, With Grace Care Specialists is the best alternative. Contact them via email or by calling (833) 446-0399.

#family #kids #parenting #toddlers

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readyplayerhobi · 4 years ago

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Jung Hoseok and the Magic to Happiness | 02

; Hufflepuff Teacher!Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, future angst, future smut

; Word Count: 6.5k

; Synopsis: An unexpected issue with your Ministry of Magic job leads to you taking the role of Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. It’s here that you meet your best friend’s younger brother for the first time in years, the Hufflepuff Head of House, Jung Hoseok. While you contend with seeing him once again, Hoseok tries to show you that he’s very much a man and no longer the gangly teenager you once knew.

; A/N: After almost three months of no writing...I finished this chapter :) I hope you enjoy...please leave me feedback in the form of comments or an ask. The long break has made me worry about a bit about whether people will even read my stuff anymore lol

Last Chapter ; Next Chapter

The next two months pass by with only a few growing pains in terms of teaching. You’d discovered pretty quickly that a group of twenty students could easily turn into pure and utter chaos. Particularly when one of them accidentally turns another into a turnip.

That had not been the best first-week experience if you were being honest.

There had been a few minutes when you’d been convinced

But you were certainly getting used to everything. It was odd being on the other side now, being the one who commanded attention from the students. You had an almost desperate need to be liked by them at first, but the other professors had quickly dissuaded you from that. They were not your friends, and you’d learnt that if you gave them an inch then they’d take a mile.

It had been pleasant though, and you were certainly enjoying everything. There was nothing better than the smile on a student’s face when they got a spell right, with the knowledge that you’d been the one to teach them that.

The comments you’d been told on your first note about the house stereotypes had also proven to be true. You’d never seen so many Slytherin’s chatting happily with Gryffindor’s and so forth. Whole friendship groups were made up of varying houses and none appeared to be left out. Nor had you seen any house related bullying as there had been in your day.

Once typical insults of a Slytherin being home to a Death Eater had vanished for the most part. The one time you had seen it, hurled by a Hufflepuff of all things, had resulted in complete outrage amongst all the students. It had warmed your heart to see the younger generations working in far better harmony than yours or your previous generations ever had.

Chaeyoung had become the equivalent of your work best friend, bringing her marking over to your office and spending time chatting happily with you. Seokjin had also become a close friend or at least as close as someone could get in only two months. The two of them were fascinating, coming from vastly different lifestyles.

Her family were practically magical royalty in France, though she’d moved to the UK whilst only a child to live with her grandparents after the deaths of her parents. As such, she’d ended up attending Hogwarts and had been in the year below Hoseok. Despite her initial French upbringing, she had no hint of an accent though she’d spouted fluent French to you when you��d queried her language abilities.

She also spoke Spanish, which had led to her initially getting a job as a translator at a magical exporting company. It had amused you thoroughly that it had been based in Devon, along the southern coast of England with France just over the narrow Channel Sea. Chaeyoung had laughed at the time, acknowledging that the mild weather was much nicer than the temperamental mistress you had to contend with here in northern Scotland.

It hadn’t proven to her liking though, and she’d soon ended up applying for the vacant History of Magic position. She’d been quick to explain that she’d taken up an extra qualification in her chosen area and that she wasn’t just randomly picked. You knew from Jisoo that muggles had a different way to education, but there were no real universities here in the wizarding world.

Chaeyoung studied hard enough and was very knowledgeable about her chosen area, so you didn’t see too much issue regarding it. And she was a popular teacher, helping to turn a subject that many would often find dull into something fun and interesting.

Seokjin, on the other hand, was older than you. He was 36, with a wife of ten years and two young sons. He’d trained in astronomy in the Ministry and had brought his skills to Hogwarts three years ago. You’d ended up bonding together over your dual experiences in the Ministry; both lamenting over the different departments and positions you’d had yet the same bureaucratic headaches.

He was a joyful sort with a smile always on his face for you and his students along with a genuine passion for the stars and the universe. You knew that he made it a goal to read much of what the muggles were doing, his fascination with the fact that they’d been to space bordering on an almost obsession.

It was no surprise to you that these have been the two that you had ended up so close with. Both had the experience of working outside of Hogwarts and that seemed to make you all different from the other professors. Everyone else had interned here immediately after finishing before taking on their chosen role.

Jimin came from a long line of auror wizards and witches that stretched back centuries. This meant that he had extensive knowledge of the Dark Arts inherited from their wise teachings. His mother and father still worked in the Ministry, which meant that he’d slipped into the Defence Against the Dark Arts position with ease.

Which was a good thing as it had remained an awkward position after the Second Wizarding War. It was a role that was often hard to fill as some many witches and wizards felt that it would be best to ignore that the Dark Arts even existed. If no one knew about the Dark Arts, and all the horrific violence and devastation that had occurred with them, then there wouldn’t be any need to defend it.

That was, of course, a most ridiculous idea and Hogwarts had firmly resisted any such attempts to whitewash both the history and the concept of the Dark Arts. By not acknowledging what happened, and teaching to both understand why it happened alongside how to protect against it, then it would just happen again.

But it remained an exceptionally unpopular position due to the intimate knowledge of the Dark Arts required. To know how best to protect against the Dark spells, you had to know what the Dark spells were.

You had experienced at least three professors during your tenure as a student.

That had all changed five years ago though when Park Jimin had finally taken over when his predecessor had packed it all in to go and study the famous dragons in Romania. The handsome silver-haired professor was young, but he had won over the staff of the prestigious school with his astonishingly good spellwork.

The fact that he had also made short work of their hearts was because he was also incredibly good looking, much to his benefit when it came to dating you were sure.

Jimin wasn’t just a pretty face though; he was the best dueller in the school. From what you’d been told, he had yet to be bested. Which honestly, was to be expected from someone with such a prestigious bloodline as his.

But not only that, he’d proven to be sweet and kind to his students with a backbone of steel as well. While there may be no true bad blood between houses now, Slytherin still garnered an air of suspicion from other houses even to this day.

Given the preponderance of dark witches and wizards that the house had produced over the years, it was a well-earnt suspicion, unfortunately. Still, you didn’t believe that the bad decisions and choices made by people long ago should have any bearing on your current students; all of them born long after those terrible events.

Jimin had proven to be an excellent example of why you should never stereotype people based on what others had done. In your opinion, he was an exceptional teacher and had taken on the helm of the Defence Against the Dark Arts role with the clear mindset of not only helping to protect his students but also to try and prevent them from making poor choices.

It was a tough subject to teach as it meant constantly walking a narrow line while also steering students true through narrow and murky waters. There were plenty of students who might find themselves a little too fascinated in the concept of the Dark Arts, after all.

According to Chaeyoung, Jimin tried to combat this by making sure to teach them about the history of the Dark Arts. From what you understood, he held no punches in making sure they all knew the horrific acts of murder and sacrifice that had been committed to preventing students from romanticising a dark part of wizarding history.

Not only that, but he made sure to teach about the most infamous dark wizards in history; the Death Eaters and Voldemort. This was all to ensure that they did not repeat the mistakes of the past. He took his role seriously, whether it was through spellwork or simply enriching the minds.

Despite his relative youth, you’d come to know him as passionate and hard-working with a true love for his students. Whether they be in Slytherin or Gryffindor. It was just one of the many things that you had come to grow to love about Hogwarts in your short time here so far, the way the school had adapted and grown so quickly.

Hogwarts was a castle that had been built from stone carved centuries ago and housed ancient treasures of the wizarding world, but the Battle of Hogwarts had been a turning point for many. No longer did it constantly look at the past with pure pride, and to many - ignorance, but instead looked to the future as well.

It sought to teach well-rounded wizards and witches that would enrich the community. Which meant it had attempted to modernise itself as much as it could. Of course, it didn’t match the sparkling modernity of steel and technology that the muggle world had developed over the last two centuries but it was improving itself and working to develop new magics that would mirror some of the advancements that the muggles had made.

Perhaps the only thing you’d found a little awkward to embrace was teaching itself. You’d been eager to begin but had quickly realised that teaching was much more complicated than you’d imagined. For all of the good things that Hogwarts was doing lately, it seemed odd to you that they didn’t even bother teaching their professors to teach.

A few discussions with some of the others had revealed that they also had this issue when they’d started. It seemed to have been easier for those who hadn’t spent too much time away from the school after they’d graduated but it had been a long time since you’d been schooled here. Teaching methods had changed and you’d struggled to maintain a healthy balance of actually teaching, answering questions to help students, having open hours to encourage students who were struggling to have extra tuition and finding time to mark the essays that you handed out.

In short, it had been a very steep learning curve for yourself. Thankfully, your students had given you the benefit of the doubt, which meant they’d been very accepting of any mistakes you’d made. You’d also worked with the other professors to establish a good teaching plan for each of your lessons while also cross-referencing to ensure students weren’t loaded with too much homework.

It was more work than you’d expected, which made you understand how naive you’d been. But you found it to be satisfying work and the reward of seeing students learn and retain their knowledge throughout their lessons was better than anything you’d done in your previous job. And that was to say nothing about the pure wonder and joy on the faces of the first-year students when you had begun their education.

Underlying all of your experiences so far though was one Jung Hoseok. Whilst you’d become quick friends with Seokjin and Chaeyoung, Hoseok was a strange enigma to you. He was friendly and always willing to help you whenever you got confused over something or were feeling a little stressed.

His job as the Care of Magical Creatures professor meant that you rarely saw him during school hours. A large portion of his time was spent outside in the Forbidden Forest or in the custom-built buildings that housed many of the fantastical creatures that he cared for. You knew that he did have a classroom though. It wasn’t anywhere near yours but it held a lot of the smaller creatures that didn’t do so well in the Scottish climate.

Hoseok’s commitment to his job was commendable as he often spent a lot of hours outside. Which meant that as the months slowly shifted to winter, he was finding himself in the cold and rain a lot more often than not.

More than once, you’d spotted him outside when peeking through one of your classroom windows and noted him completely drenched as the rain poured down. It made you cringe each time you saw it, knowing that his robes would be heavy with water. But he never complained about it, even though he was the only professor who also had to work on the weekends.

On top of that, he was also busy with being the Head of Hufflepuff. From what you understood from your talks with Jimin, it meant always being available outside of learning hours for his House students. Whether they wanted to talk about a problem they had or simply needed advice, he was there to help them with whatever they needed.

It also meant that he had to attend every Quidditch game, and you wondered how he managed to cope with such a full schedule. You felt exhausted after a week of just your normal work but knowing how much extra he put in was mind-blowing.

Despite this though, you’d noticed over time that Hoseok always made sure to be present for every meal in the Great Hall. And much like the first meal you’d shared at the top table, he always sat next to you. You hadn’t thought anything of it until Seokjin had casually mentioned one day while you’d been at Hogsmeade with him and Chaeyoung that he’d never sat in that place before.

His old spot was actually on the other side of the table, next to Taehyung and Jimin. Seokjin hadn’t even thought anything of his comment but it had caused you to pause, wondering why Hoseok had felt the need to change his position. At the time, you’d simply shrugged and pointed out that you’d known him when he was younger and that his sister was your best friend.

It only made sense that he wanted to be there to help you out and make sure you were okay.

But that excuse started to falter when you thought about the fact that he never mentioned Jisoo to you. Hoseok didn’t mention anything of the past that you both shared. Instead, he would talk about Hogwarts now and your jobs or ask about what life was like at the Ministry when you’d been there. Those topics often led off onto little tangents and you’d both find yourselves chattering away with each other as the meals went on.

The others would get involved too when they could, but there was something...singular about Hoseok’s focus. And that was to say nothing of how he always made sure to walk you back to your quarters after dinner. There was never much talk that happened then, instead, the two of you simply enjoyed the architecture and decoration of Hogwarts as you found different ways to get back, the company exquisite in its silence.

A comfortable silence that you hadn’t found with many other people.

Chaeyoung was convinced that Hoseok liked you. You’d tried to debunk that theory by pointing out that he’d fancied you when he was younger and it was probably just the allure of an older girl who was more accessible to him than others. You were always around given your friendship with his sister and he’d probably just transferred his teenage hormones onto you at the time.

If anything, he was probably embarrassed about how obvious he was back then. Poor Hoseok had never been subtle in anything.

Despite your defence, Chaeyoung had simply given you a look that you hadn’t been able to interpret. Nor did you understand the subtle glances and smirks that she exchanged with Seokjin whenever Hoseok sat next to you at the dining table. It was like there was a silent conversation happening between the two of them about you, only you weren’t included in it.

Thankfully, you weren’t the type of person to be too influenced by other’s thoughts and opinions. So you didn’t let Chaeyoung’s opinion on the subject impact upon your burgeoning friendship with Hoseok. So even though there was a voice in the back of your mind telling you that there was something more, you ignored it and chose not to ruin the fledgeling friendship you had.

You’d felt a sense of relief though that Chaeyoung had been too busy with marking papers to attend dinner last night, which meant that she hadn’t been able to overhear your conversation with Hoseok last night. The two of you had been discussing his lesson plans for the next few weeks and what creatures his students were going to be studying.

He’d suddenly gotten an odd look on his face before grinning. If there was one thing you had learnt upon being back at Hogwarts, it was that Hoseok’s smile was perhaps one of the prettiest things you’d ever seen. Which was why you’d smiled back at him immediately, even though you had no idea what he was so happy about.

But he hadn’t made you wait and had instead asked if you were tonight. You’d acknowledged it and confusion had been written all over your face but he’d just given an enigmatic shrug. All he’d said after that was to meet him at the entrance of the Forbidden Forest an hour after dinner.

Which was why you were now standing in the dark. Your robes were wrapped tightly around you but it did nothing to stop the way you shivered, jaw tight as a cold wind rushed through the trunks of the trees before you. Part of you wanted to run back to the castle if only to grab your winter coat, but you didn’t want to look like you’d stood Hoseok up.

Though you did wish he’d turn up quicker rather than later.

Huddling under your cloak more, you clasped the edges together with your hands and pushed it up to cover your mouth and nose. It didn’t do a whole lot against the cold, but it was better than being exposed to it. Even though the wind wasn’t strong, it was still enough to cause your robes to flap, the sound loud against the quiet of the grounds.

The only other sound right now was the wind as it howled through the Forbidden Forest, making the already dark and ominous area look even scarier. Even though you were now an adult, there was an underlying fear of the forest before you. Perhaps it was because it had been firmly ingrained in you as a student that this area was off-limits or something.

Still, you wouldn’t want to go walking around in it on your own anytime soon.

The sight of the trees suddenly moving ahead of you made you gasp quietly, body freezing in position as you squinted to try and see what it had been. You knew that the forest was full of many magical creatures; not all of them gentle and kind.

Swallowing hard, you stayed in place to try and avoid attention, gaze skittering around as you tried to find that shape once more. A branch cracking caused you to flinch, your hands tightening into fists around the material of your cloak and you had to clench your jaw to stop any noise from escaping.

The black shape formed once more ahead of you and you almost shrieked in fright, getting ready to run away until you saw a sudden flash of brighter colour. Frowning, you let your hands unclasp themselves until you realised it was a yellow scarf and realisation flooded through your body.

“Bloody hell!” You cursed, the syllables being spat with indignation. Hoseok looked up in surprise, his own eyes widening in surprise before concern etched itself onto his face when he saw the dual outrage and fear on you. Striding forward, you met him just as he was about to cross over the boundary of the trees onto the grounds of the castle and poked at this chest, a scowl on your face.

“You didn’t think to warn me you were going to be coming from the forest! Merlin’s beard, I almost ran away because I was afraid it was something that was going to hurt me.” Hissing at him, you realised belatedly that you had to look up to him to do this. Damn him and his growth spurt.

Still, he at least had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“Sorry, I didn’t think it might seem a little scary. I was just coming back from checking on the centaurs; I haven’t been able to meet them in a while and wanted to see if they were okay.” His explanation was logical but it still made you scowl.

“Why aren’t you carrying a light or something?! Do you always just gallivant around the Forbidden Forest in the dark? Aren’t there dangerous things here?” You pepper him with the questions quickly, each one causing his brow to rise higher incrementally. It’s a good job that it’s dark because you don’t notice the way the corner of his lips quirks up in amusement at your tirade.

“I don’t use one in there, not normally. I know my way around very well. I have worked in this forest for years now. But I do have lanterns dotted around in case I need one and I can always use a lumos spell, like now. I figured you wouldn’t want to journey in the dark.” At that, he pulls his wand out of a pocket in his robes and mutters the spell, the tip lighting up with bright white.

Narrowing your eyes at the sudden influx of light, you’re momentarily startled by just how handsome Hoseok looks in the light. It casts an almost blue glow to him, his normally sun-kissed skin looking paler than you’ve ever seen it before. The shadows on his face only serve to highlight the sharp angles of his features while his eyes almost glitter.

It’s only then that you realise you’re staring, quickly averting your gaze away and focusing them on your hands instead. At that moment, another harsh wind blows through and you shiver in response, your shoulders lifting as you try to curl in on yourself.

Gripping your cloak once more, you’re too distracted to notice what Hoseok is doing. The only sign is the light going a little wonky for a few moments before you’re startled by the sudden feeling of softness on your neck.

Letting out a small ‘eep’ of surprise, you jerk away only to see Hoseok staring at you with wide eyes, his scarf no longer wrapped around his neck and instead being held out to you. The Hufflepuff colours look washed out in the odd light and you pause, giving him a confused look as you glance between the scarf and him.

Brows raised, he lifts the item before giving you a slow smile. “You’re cold. You can wear this if you want. It’s not as chilly in the forest but I don’t want you to get poorly because of it. I should have warned you, sorry.”

It seems like all he’s done is apologise so far and it makes you feel bad, causing you to nod your head and take the scarf from him. Wrapping it around your neck, you immediately feel a little warmer and you can’t help but take a deep inhale of the scent woven into the soft fibres. It’s a more concentrated form of what you get to smell every meal time; citrus and something with a slight hint of spice.

For a second, you wonder if it’s a cologne it’s bought himself or if perhaps it’s something a woman bought for him. It suits him, either way.

“Are you ready? You don’t have to come if you’re feeling uncomfortable or anything…” Hoseok trails off, biting his lip in an almost nervous way that makes you feel a little odd. Pushing the thought away, you hum and glance behind him into the forest. Your curiosity was too much and so you nodded firmly, giving him a gentle smile before gesturing for him to start walking.

Without another word, he turns around and begins to walk once more. You notice casually that he’s following a path cut into the forest, the ground level and even compared to the wildness all around you. Alongside the sound of your boots on the dirt, you realise that there are a few other noises all around you.

The gentle hoot of an owl is overwhelmed by a shriek far away, causing a chill to run up your spine. Shuffling forward a little quicker, you almost reach out to Hoseok as a tinge of fear takes over. As if he can tell, he turns around and gives you a concerned look.

“What was that?” Whispering, you glance around and wonder if you should talk loudly. Hoseok looks in the same direction as you do before shrugging slightly.

“Could be anything. This forest is full of creatures, both magical and mundane. Might be a bat or could be something else. Don’t worry though, there’s not usually anything dangerous around this part of the forest. It’s too close to the edge and the creatures that can do the most harm prefer to remain deep within the forest.” It’s almost casual the way he slows to walk alongside you, giving you the safety of his presence but you notice it all the same.

Not that you comment on it, of course. But you appreciate it nonetheless.

Giving him a noncommittal sound, you continue until he takes a sudden turn off the path. The forest floor is dense with foliage and tree roots, causing you to trip a few times. Hoseok helps you along, reaching you to hold your arm to keep you upright when you trip over one too many roots and you get the sense he’s enjoying this.

Maybe it’s because he lets out a soft chuckle when you swear loudly, scowling down at the deeply embedded rock that you’d accidentally kicked. Despite the fact your best friend’s little brother is leading you deep into a scary, dark forest, you don’t feel any concern about him. What could be in the forest, sure, but not him.

He gives off a sense of security that surprises you. All those years ago, Hoseok had been the perfect example of an annoying little brother to Jisoo. Always irritating her and doing things with the sole purpose of being a pain, which in turn meant doing those things to you as well. But now he seemed dependable and you got the sense that you’d want him with you if anything bad happened.

“Okay, we’re almost there. Now, I need you to stay very calm and don’t make any large or sudden movements. You might scare her.” Staring at him in alarm, you suddenly realise that you’ve not even questioned what he’s wanting to show you. Not that he’d have told you, you’re positive of that, but his instructions make you feel a little uneasy.

Upon seeing your face in the light of his wand, he gives a small smile and rests his hand on your arm reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, I promise, you’re going to like this. You’ll understand what I mean.” Frowning at him, you watch as he starts forward once more and realise he’s heading into a little clearing. Sighing deeply, you realise that you don’t want to stand there on your own so you follow him slowly, almost hesitant to see whatever he’s bringing you to.

You swear, if it’s one of those obscenely large spiders that’s supposed to live in this forest then you’re going to jinx him with something he’ll still be suffering from in a year.

The clearing is small and almost circular, though the position of some trees makes it seem a little broken in places. Long grass that is almost bouncy cushions your feet and you wonder if flowers would grow in the daylight, the canopy of trees above broken and allowing more sky through than elsewhere.

During the day it would get a lot of sunlight, but at the moment you couldn’t help staring in awe at the moon as it glowed brightly, it’s full body visible against the black of the sky. A few stars twinkled serenely alongside it, looking peaceful and creating a beautiful image.

A pale, ghostly colour catches your attention from the corner of your eye and you find yourself pressing to Hoseok a little closer. His back is strong and solid against your hands as you tense in concern, peeking around him to try and catch what it was.

What you see causes you to gasp out loud, letting go of Hoseok’s robes abruptly as you take a wide step away from him to get a better view.

Long, sinewy legs move through the forest in an almost dainty manner, picking their way through the undergrowth with care and precision. There’s almost no sound as the creature moves towards the clearing, only the softest rustle of leaves that can’t be avoided. It’s fascinating how quietly it can move given its size and you wonder if it’s some magical ability that allows that.

Within moments, the shape coalesces into a clearer image as it passes through the edge of the trees on the other side of the clearing. A silver coat practically glows under the moonlight, giving the creature an ethereal feel that makes you feel that it’s not even real. That you’re just seeing an apparition instead of a real animal.

The horn on its head is long and spiralling, ending in a deadly point while the pale white mane and tail flow in elegant waves towards the ground. Golden hooves paw softly at the grass, glinting slightly.

A unicorn.

“Merlin’s beard…” You whisper, pressing a hand to your mouth before looking at Hoseok. “A unicorn...that’s a unicorn!”

They were rare creatures, even rarer now due to being hunted over the centuries by both muggles and wizards. Muggles thought them a myth now while you knew the rumour of the powerful properties that unicorn blood had. You hadn’t even known the Forbidden Forest had unicorns in them.

“It is. I haven’t named her, seems a little wrong to name her. They normally don’t really like men but I found her when she was injured two years ago. She was dying and I helped nurse her back to health. Unicorns have great memories and we’ve kind of become...friends? Or as much of a friend as you can be to one.” He finishes, smiling as he watches the unicorn snort almost in agreement.

Her eyes are a deep black in the moonlight but you note they look almost friendly and kind. Hoseok’s hand on your back pushes you forward slightly, causing you to start and look back at him with wide eyes.

“Move slowly...hold your hand out to her so she can see it and smell it. Be careful and like I said...no sudden moves. You’re a woman so she’s more likely to accept you anyway, but she’ll let you know if she’s not happy.” Gulping, you nod and take a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, you try to stop the trembling in your limbs.

Whether it’s from excitement at finally getting to see your favourite magical creature in the flesh or fear of being gored to death by that dangerous horn, you don’t know. But you follow Hoseok’s words, trusting him to be right.

Slowly, you walk forwards with your hand out, palm side up. Each step you take, you stare intently at the body of the unicorn to try and catch any movement that might be viewed as hostile. Given she had four legs, there was no way you could outrun her but you’d at least like to say you had a head start.

Despite your worry, she makes no threatening moves. If anything, she seems cautiously curious; her ears pricked forwards towards you and her eyes remaining focused solely on you. Not a muscle in her body moves, only the chilly wind blowing through her mane and tail.

Finally, you’re almost within touching distance of her. But instead of carrying on, you stop. Something inside you tells you that it’s a good idea to do that, to let her come to you and accept you. So you remain standing there with your palm held out to her, watching her closely.

Nostrils slightly darker than the rest of her body flare wide a few times, likely taking in as much air as she can to smell you. It isn’t enough though and she slowly extends her neck out, her refined head stretching out until you can feel the hotness of her breath. Not moving, you let her investigate until finally, she takes one careful step forward and presses the velvety softness of her muzzle into your hand.

Smiling, you let her increase the pressure before turning your hand and gently stroking her. There’s a moment of almost curiosity in her eyes, not that you can tell what a unicorn is feeling, before she lets out a huff of air and leans her head into your touch, obviously enjoying the feeling.

Your smile turns into a wide grin as you run your hand along her face slowly, letting her get used to the feel of you before you gently scratch at her chin. Almost instantly her ears flatten and you feel a pang of panic, but she just lifts her head and lets out a nicker of contentment, giving you a better position.

“She likes you.” You hear from beside you, and you turn to see Hoseok patting the unicorn’s neck.

Turning away from you momentarily, the mare lets out a soft whinny as she looks behind her into the forest. Frowning, you crane your head to try to see what she’s looking at. Soft footfalls being and you look at Hoseok in confusion, tilting your head at the sight of his grin.

Before you can ask him what’s going on, there’s a high pitched neigh and the mare turns her head back to you, butting at your hand gently. Glancing to her side, your jaw drops once more and you can’t help but squeal lightly.

A foal is standing next to her, it’s coat fluffy with baby fur and a beautiful golden that contrasts completely from its mother. There’s no horn on its head, only a tiny nub that will one day grow long and tall. Gangly legs look too long for its body and the short, fuzzy tail make you coo in delight as it flicks it from side to side eagerly, those big eyes staring at you as it almost dances in place.

Looking at its mum, you almost ask for the permission with a hand raised in the foal's direction and you could swear the unicorn almost nods. Slowly, you move towards the foal and stroke along its short neck, marvelling at how soft and fluffy it is. The foal snorts, its entire body wobbling from the movement and you giggle in delight, completely awed by the sight of them both.

“She had this foal only a month ago, so he’s still pretty small. But he’s a sweetheart and so friendly. As you probably know, he’ll keep that gold coat for two years before paling out to silver.” Hoseok says casually, still stroking the mare and smiling at her fondly.

For a few minutes, you’re too busy playing with the foal to pay attention to his words but they finally sink in.

“What do you mean, as you probably know?” Neither of you had discussed unicorns so far during your mealtime talks, so you didn’t know why he’d think that. Sure, you’d been taught about unicorns in school but that had been so long ago and it hadn’t even been a full class on them.

Your love of them had meant you’d learnt much more about them, absorbing all the information you could find in books when you were a teenager. The fact that you were finally standing here, stroking not only a unicorn but also her foal was something that you’d always wished you could do. Given how rare they were though, you’d never expected it to happen.

“Well, they’re your favourite magical creature, right? Or they were, anyway.” He frowns slightly, unsure if he’s got something wrong and you simply stare at him for a moment.

Had he remembered that from when you’d been at Hogwarts? Given your love of them, it was only natural that he’d known about them back then given how often you’d spent time at his house to have sleepovers with Jisoo. But you’d have thought he’d have forgotten all about that by now.

Jisoo didn’t even remember this as you’d both grown over the years, the obsession of teenagers mellowing out. Unicorns remained your favourite magical creature, but you didn’t hold that deep passion that you did back then. The fact that Hoseok had remembered stunned you into silence for a moment though, causing you to frown down at the foal.

“Yeah...yeah, they are. I...I mean...thank you. For remembering and showing me this, this is amazing. I’ll never forget this, Hoseok.” You’re not entirely sure how to thank him properly, because you don’t know of anyone else who could show you a unicorn like this.

Before you can say anything else or Hoseok can respond, you’re both distracted by the way the foal lets out a squeal and butts his head into you lightly before jumping away. Taken aback, you watch him for a moment for he does it again, his impossibly slim legs wobbling slightly as he trips on a rock.

“He wants you to play,” Hoseok says softly, smiling as he watches you both. Glancing to him, you raise a brow before grinning back at the baby unicorn. Tilting your head at him, you purse your lips before jumping forward and raising your hands in claw motions. Almost immediately, the foal leaps forward before darting back to you and you giggle, already planning your next move.

Yeah, okay, you might be thirty-three years old...but you were going to play with the baby unicorn.

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tnenvs3000w22 · 3 years ago

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Nature's Dance with Privilege

Hey Everyone! It's that time of the week so welcome back to my blog!

This week I am discussing privilege and honestly when I read what I was going to be talking about I choked a bit. Honestly, it's something I joke about a lot but it is a bit uncomfortable. To start I will tell you where I'm coming from and then discuss the overall effects of privilege. So let me be frank. I am black, Afro-Caribbean to be more specific, I come from a middle-class immigrant family (now a blended family as my parents are divorced), I speak fluent English and dabble in many other languages, I’ve played sports all my life and I was born and raised in Canada. In terms of my education, I am very fortunate to have parents who were in a position to plan and pay for University tuition.

Speaking English in North America is a great asset but the benefits of that never occurred to me until I got older. Another interesting take is that both my parents have accents but can switch to an American accent easily to be understood and with the additional purpose of being taken seriously. In a way, it is oddly a privilege that I speak naturally with an American accent. Both my parents were able to pay for me to do sports, something which I have the privilege to continue in University. I think the most shocking privilege is socio-economic. I grew up in a town where majority of people around me growing up had the world at their fingertips, I often felt out of place. However, as I grew up I realized how fortunate I was and still am. I am by no means rich but my family has done well for themselves, it is something I never considered but it is true regardless of what I think. I also had the privilege to grow up in an area surrounded by trees and trails. I had the privilege to just travel to mountains to ski or to explore national parks. I had the privilege to grow up in a safe space where I was free to explore the world. Growing up in that environment made me want to share nature because regardless of where you come from nature does not judge. I hope for everyone to have that experience.

My definition of privilege is the ability to easily obtain opportunities without barriers or discrimination. As a nature interpreter, it is important to invite everyone into experiencing nature while providing a safe space. Privilege affects one's relationship with nature because it affects contributing factors such as knowledge, access, financial means and health. Growing up in a medical household my parents would always remind me of how lucky I am to be able to explore the world the way I can and how it is a privilege to not be bound to a hospital. Some people cannot physically access nature because of their health and that is a perspective that I was always reminded to never forget. Education can change how you see the world whether it be oral knowledge or written - they are valuable. In addition, some people may be looked down upon if they do not have a lot of knowledge on the subject or cannot understand the language the knowledge is being shared in. That creates a hostile environment and may result in animosity or restriction to exploring nature. It also creates a fear of nature, if one is not able to read signs when walking through the trail, they may be scared by the picture of a snake biting someone or the rash from poison ivy will ward them away from returning. Honestly, language is one of the main reasons I try to learn so many. I hate not being able to speak to everyone and make them comfortable. Money often breaks many barrier which is why it is something that many wish to have more of. It is interesting because people think that they can’t see these amazing places because of money when they can travel to other places that have just as much value, just not social value. I'm sure many people have been on trips outside the country but downplay it not realizing some people haven’t left the province let alone the country. In writing this blog I realize the many barriers one may experience and how I have been blind to many. It is interesting because we often discuss how we want to travel to all these amazing places but disregard the things that we do have access to. The places we have the privilege of exploring and understanding. It is a privilege to have the ability to take in all this information and learn from others.

As a nature interpreter, it is important for me to be self-aware and understand where my perspectives differ from that of my audience. And I also want to be as transparent as possible So no matter how big or small I am always interested to hear your relationship with nature or how you are investigating that relationship.

- Tamia N.

Beck, L. et al. Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage for a Better World. 2018. Sagamore Publishing.

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tester2080 · 3 years ago

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The Leaving Cert is an awful system.

09/09/21

In case you are not from Ireland, the Leaving Cert(ificate) is the exam system that determines which uni we can get into. Rather than having a GPA via continual assessments or any sort of entrance exam or letter of application we simply have one set of exams. There are obviously other exams (such as the christmas and summer exams in other years), however, the Leaving Cert exam is the only one that matters.

When you take a subject you can either do ordinary or higher level. Ordinary level is easier but rewards less points, and higher level is more difficult, but rewards more points. A H1 is worth 100 points (except for HL maths which is 125) and is given if you get between 90 and 100%. A H2 is 88 points and 80-90% and so on. An O1 is 90-100% in an ordinary level subject but only 56 points. There are some weird changes to the system when it comes to medicine but I won't get into that right now. Universities award places based solely on the points you receive. This leads into the first problem.

Whilst the education experience is a multi year process (6 years in secondary school in our case), what determines your uni course is a single event, often just a single week out of many years of learning. This is insanity and leads to so many obvious problems. A person could be getting H1s throughout the year and forgot to study just one topic and end up with a H3 in the leaving cert at the end, and a H3 student could get lucky and study a topic that happens to come up and get a H1. Even a single grade can be the difference between getting into the uni you want and losing out. The leaving cert does not measure you abilities as a student, your effort, or even sometimes your ability. The leaving cert measures your memory and how well you can perform on the day. You getting 100% in every single subject for the past 6 years and a family member dies a few days before the exams and it absolutely ruins your mental state? Too bad. In the eyes of the university you are not a good enough student. You are a perfect student but got a bit nervous and stayed up a bit late the night before to get some extra study in and are tired the next day? Too bad. You've been getting 625 in every set of mock tests but on the day your mind goes blank with the incredible stress, the knowledge that one test will determine the rest of your life? Too. Bad. There are no exceptions to the hand of the points system and claw of bad luck. You cannot explain to the uni. They. Will. Not. Care. Nothing else is taken into account. Students will have bad days. That's just life, we're all human. However that must be accounted for. Nobody should miss out on their life's dream because of a single day. That is absolutely absurd.

When you ask someone what education is about t. There is a filter type system for different categories of posts and all that, so if you're interested in what I have to say, I'd recommend going there for the better experience. I also have no fucking clue how to use tumblr sof you ask them what the leaving cert is about they will say it's about getting into uni. Clearly there is a disconnect here. Where has education become so distorted that now it is nothing more than a way for universities to quickly and easily judge us? Education must be about teaching children, not for some uni test, but simply so they can become more knowledgeable, so they can get a thirst for information, so they can locate their strengths and weaknesses, so future generations can live better lives than we will. University selections must be nothing more than an afterthought. It is even worse when the leaving cert is a horrendously stressful system. We put ourselves through sometimes 6 years of stress and bad quality of mental health to make it easier for universities??? What a ridiculous idea.

The leaving cert isn't even a fair way to judge students. Here, I'll be able to determine how good you're likely to do in the leaving cert with two simple questions. Do you have a good memory? Are you good at maths? If you answered yes to both, the chances of you doing well are very high and if you answered no to both - well - the chances aren't quite as good. A huge amount of the leaving cert is simply a memory test. I know the state will talk constantly about how rote learning is discouraged and all that, but realistically that's not the case. Take for example the English paper. You get to know which poets might come and which poems you can use before the exam. This mean your teacher can simply write you a good sample answer and if you can remember it, that's at least a H2 for that part of the exam. And as for being good at maths - if you're good at maths you already have 3 subjects which you can say with reasonable certainty you will be good at - maths, physics, and applied maths. Students who aren't good at maths have nothing like this unless they are fluent in several languages. A big problem when you arises most of the non maths subjects are based on memory, and the ones not based on memory are based on maths. History? Memorising essays. Irish? Memorising poems. Biology? A lot of memorising. Physics? A lot of maths. Accounting? A lot of memorising. This continues throughout basically all the exam subjects, with only maybe one or two exceptions. I know someone who hasn't even started 5th year, and yet they already know they're screwed and have basically given up on their first choice course because they have dyscalculia and a terrible memory. They can try as hard as they want, study as hard as they can, but realistically, they aren't going to come close to someone with a good memory and are good at maths who put in the bare minimum effort. It's bizarre too, given the amount of jobs that don't require either maths or a good memory.

The subjects you can study in the leaving cert is also extremely limited. You have to study Irish, English, Maths, and a third language. In public schools you then basically have the option of History, Geography, Accounting, Business, Economics, Art, Music, Religion, Chemistry, Biology, Physics and DCG. There are no electives to try out things similar to careers you might be interested or anything like that. Now those that plan to go into business will be happy I'm sure, however, for most other people, the subjects have very little in common with the career you want to do. You're doing law? I suppose a business subject might somewhat help??? You're doing computer science? Maths is kinda related. Medicine? Biology sure, perhaps a little bit of chemistry? But at most 2 out of your 6 subjects will actually be any way relevant to your career. To make it even worse, public schools have subjects in blocks. This means there will 3 blocks of subjects and you pick one from each block. You're super good at both physics, chemistry, and business? Well too bad, there's a very high chance you won't get to study all 3, and you'll have to pick up geography or some other subject you have no interest in. In some cases all 3 of the subjects you like may be in the same block, meaning you'll have to pick up 2 subjects you have no interest in and will likely be worse at. Once again, simple luck plays a huge part in the leaving cert. Going into 5th year, the subjects you're allowed pick will likely change your eventual points by around 30 or possibly more. Furthermore, private schools provide a massive advantage, often with your chance of getting good grades being around 4 times higher. You were born with well off parents? Congrats, here's an extra 100 points have fun. Absolute insanity. The leaving cert is really just determined by luck every way you look at it. Now obviously luck plays a part in everyday life too, but the leaving cert basically caters to the lucky, and a whole lot could be done to reduce the benefit they have based on luck alone, rather than quality of character, or time studied, or effort put in, etc.

I suppose I've reached the stage where I should stop complaining and start giving actual suggestions for improvements then. Fine. Firstly, remove the idiotic one exam process. Instead have some sort of GPA system with continual testing, so it shows how good a student is on average, not just on their worst/best day. Increase the amount of uni places available so that getting into the uni and career you want becomes more of an afterthought, rather than a constant stress looming over you. Add more subjects and electives that will be relevant to the career the student is planning to go into. Make learning and discovering your strengths and weaknesses and just enjoying life in general a main focus. Give students time to relax and do sports outside of school, even in 6th year (which is something basically impossible to do under the current system). Allow the tests that determine the GPA to be open book. Make understand more important than simply memorising. Remove the subject block system so students can do all the subjects they actually enjoy and are good at. I believe that the single test system is one of the reasons that private schools perform so well, by removing that, I believe the scores wouldn't be so far apart. However additions restrictions, or even total banning, of private schools could be implemented. After all, surely everyone deserves the same quality of education. These are children and teenagers for gods sake. There shouldn't be a heirachy of education based on their parents wealth. All students should be given the same opportunities. Private schools largely do better due to having better teachers. There currently isn't a large enough supply of very good teachers to go around, and the private schools can simply buy up the majority of good ones. We should pay teachers more, a lot of people thinking about careers may be dissuaded from teaching, despite having a passion, due to the low pay. Many good teachers also go to places like Dubai thanks to the better pay. Overall in society, teachers are sort of dismissed as a profession, and if we wish to improve the lives of the next generations, this must change.

#leaving cert #leaving cert 2021 #ireland #rant #complaining #politics

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mneiai · 4 years ago

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Mandalorian born obiwan but he’s still given to the Jedi, but still wears the armour/speaks the language.. basically like Tarre Vizsla (also could you preferably make him/his family true mandalorians?) with eventual jangobi! I love your writing!

Thanks for the prompt! So, I didn’t go with the armor because he wouldn’t have the right to wear it, but I think it hits most everything else haha

It takes Ala-Wan five planets to find a jetii. When she does, she spends a whole day observing him, blending into the market where he seems to be collecting information, before approaching him.

This was not done. And, yet, she had no other choice.

He was wary of her, as he should be. Her beskar'gam was back on her ship, as was much of her weaponry, but no Haat'ade would ever be less than a challenge.

Still, perhaps using the magic that the jetii controlled, he heard the truth in her words and went back to that ship. To her precious ad, the greatest treasure she'd ever earned.

Her riduur would never forgive her for this, no matter the reason, but she was on the other side of the galaxy on a job that would take at least another dozen days to finish. It would be too late, then, to reverse what Ala-Wan was doing.

She would never understand, born and raised Mando'ad. Ala-Wan had fallen in love with her, had given up her past Stewjoni culture and sworn to the Mand'alor for her, but they were not the same, no matter what the Mando'ade said of a cin vhetin.

Their son was not having nightmares. Ala-Wan could not keep pretending he was, not when too many of the horrific things he had seen had already come true. Deaths, lost battles, famines in worlds the five year old had never learnt of but could describe in great detail.

They could not help him.

The jetiise were the only ones who could.

He held his buir for as long as he could before he silently followed the jetii away, glancing back at her constantly until he could see her no more. She'd explained it as well as she could, but she knew the reality would not be clear to him at first.

When it was, she could only hope her little Obi-Wan forgave her someday. That he understood why she had to do this.

***

Obi-Wan is eleven years old when Master Tyvokka takes him as his Padawan learner. Some might say he doesn't deserve it, Master Tyvokka so well-regarded and a member of the High Council at that, but he had known it would be so. They were both too strong in the Unifying Force and the Master had been the one his buir had trusted to bring him to the Temple. That aay'han had forged a connection between them, even before a Force bond developed.

His relief, still, was palpable. For all that he had been among the Jedi for six years, he still remembered what his life had been like before the creche. He remembered his buire, he remembered their lessons. Being raised as a jetii on Coruscanta would not make him dar'manda.

For all his position as a Council member, Master Tyvokka understood that. He never asked Obi-Wan to give up what little he had of his culture, even though it sometimes made encounters with other Jedi awkward.

As he grew, it became worse. Maybe the other Masters were fine when it was an Initiate slipping Mando'a into their speech or was more interested in hand-to-hand combat than others, but for a Padawan it was different.

Master Tyvokka did what he could. Obi-Wan's lineage brother, Plo Koon, and his friends like Qui-Gon Jinn tried, as well.

It felt almost like he was being mocked, when they were sent to Mandalore. Obi-Wan knew that wasn't actually the case--after all, he was probably the most fluent in the language and culture of any Jedi--but it seemed like a test.

Every moment there he thought of Master Jinn's last apprentice, who had returned home and betrayed the Order. He could not become like him, ijaat demanded that he not. He may not yet be a Knight, may not have sworn himself to the Jedi yet, but he'd worked too hard, had too much of their trust, to let himself be anything but a future Jedi Knight.

When the Mando'ade heard his full name, it meant something to them. It made even Satine Kryze, who they were guarding, nervous. No one would tell him why, as though they were protecting him.

No one would tell him until he finally just asked an opponent while they were fighting Kyr'stad. The hut'uun had found it hilarious, and finally told him of the history he'd not known--he was all that was left of his Clan and House.

They saved the Duchess, his skin crawling and mind screaming as they reaffirmed New Mandalorian power.

He left beside his Master and was informed it had all been a test--that soon enough he'd be a Knight.

Standing in the Council chambers, where he'd spent so many happy hours of his Padawan years with his Master, that did not bring him the joy he had expected.

***

He was twenty-four years old when he became a Sith Killer.

The mission was more difficult than it could have been, but exactly what the Force had told he and his Master to expect. It had gone more smoothly for them, they knew, than it would have for any other pair, the Unifying Force loved Master Tyvokka and the Master would claim it loved Obi-Wan, as well.

They had expected betrayal at every turn, had sensed the Darkness seeped through the plots against Naboo. Neither of them had expected an actual Sith, but between the Wookie Master and a Mandalorian Knight, with a bond as strong as beskar, they were all-but destined to triumph.

For once, Obi-Wan didn't feel like he was precariously straddling two cultures at odds. He was floating high on the praise and regard from his peers, the affirmation of his Knighthood.

He was twenty-four when he let himself forget more and more of his past, use less and less of his language. He released the regrets and grief for his family into the Force and let the Light comfort him through it all. He was a Jedi and that was what he was meant to be.

***

He was thirty-five when he found out that (of course) Kyr'stad was full of liars. And that every moment of the last eleven years of trying to extract himself from his past, to be a Jedi and not a Mando'ad, had been a lie he was telling himself.

The Kaminoan stood with him outside an open door, completely unaware of what she was doing as she introduced Jedi Master Obi-Wan Mereel to the beroya Jango Fett.

XXXXX

My basic idea was one of Obi-Wan’s moms was a Stewjoni who fell in love with a Mandalorian (who happened to be Jaster Mereel’s sister).

Mando’a used:

jetii/jetiise - Jedi/Jedi (pl) beskar'gam - armor Haat'ade - True Mandalorians riduur - spouse cin vhetin - white field, becoming Mandalorian and basically getting a blank slate buir/buire - parent/parents aay'han - bittersweet perfect moment of joy and mourning dar'manda - disgraced former Mandalorian ijaat - honor hut'uun - coward (very awful insult)

#obi wan kenobi #star wars fic #mandalorians #star wars au #star wars #ask answers #Anonymous #my stuff

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all-cursed · 4 years ago

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Meet my first OC to have a specific fandom they’re attached to!

So I’ve never created an OC specifically for the universe of a show before, they’ve always been fandomless, but I was excited to create one for Wynonna Earp. I’m going to give him a proper page on the muse list as well as give everyone more detailed biographies eventually, but for now, this should work.

DISCLAIMER: to anyone who may have concerns, please know that I myself am Native American (Blackfoot and Cherokee), and did a lot of research while creating this character to make sure I do them justice and create an actual Native character that isn’t just a stereotype. Some parts that might seem stereotypical - such as the name this character chooses to go by - just comes with the modern era the universe is set in and the character’s own reasons. Several of the struggles he faces as well are specifically chosen because I hope to raise awareness in some small ways to the struggles that IPOC face even today. None of it is meant to be fetishising or stereotypical - some of it just exists in that space as an unfortunate reality.

Alright! Here we go.

[ i. STATS ]

NAME. meecha wo’i " crow " redwolf .

AGE. 23 as of 1x01 .

DOB. nov 29th , 1993 .

GENDER. gender-indifferent cis male : prefers he/him or they/them pronouns .

PREF. pansexual but has a preference for men and nonbinary individuals

SPECIES. human , witch , skinwalker .

RESIDENCE. the ghost river triangle .

OCCUPATION. former cashier ; former lead guitar in an up and coming rock band ; current bartender .

ETHNICITY. in simple terms: native american. specifically: hopi and creek. some scottish but not by much.

[ ii. INTROSPECTION ]

POSITIVE TRAITS. curious , adaptable , perceptive , creative , passionate , loyal , perseverant , open-minded , compassionate .

NEUTRAL TRAITS. persuasive , withdrawn (at first; nervous about other’s intentions) , secretive , free-wheeling .

NEGATIVE TRAITS. temperamental , unrestrained , spiteful , reckless , capricious , hedonistic .

DISLIKES. sounds of traffic or loud machinery in general & the sound of metal on metal & the smell of cheap perfume/cologne & hot weather & dust & houseflies & being told (instead of asked) what to do & rap music & wool scarves & fluorescent lights & lack of hygiene & orange flavoured candies/sodas/anything that’s not an actual orange & deep dark waters he can’t see the contents of & mistreatment of animals & having assumptions made about him & mathematics & onions & football .

LIKES. the scent and sound of rain & physical touch & candles , lighters , and controlled flames in general & the smell of cedar , pine , and the forest & music and playing musical instruments & italian food & raving about attractive people with others; intoxication is a bonus & leather; wearing it and the smell of it & glasses clinking together & late night talks & stargazing & drawing / sketching & records and record players & animals & 'stealing’ and wearing the clothes of people he’s close with & running & card games & dancing and singing & creating something out of nothing & getting the last word .

HOBBIES. drawing & singing and playing instruments & exploring / learning as many places as they can like the back of their hand & people watching & drinking and bar hopping & seeking pleasure and adventure wherever he can find it & collecting random things he enjoys / likes .

WEAKNESSES. he’s standoffish until he knows he can trust a person and can come off rude or aloof & the inability to let go of most grudges & his tendency to follow his desires and his heart before logic or his mind & impulsivity when emotional .

STRENGTHS. independence and ability to function and thrive alone (even if he would prefer to have company it is not mandatory) & ability to be resourceful and adapt to new situations quickly & handles time-sensitive situations well due to his tendency to act quick and think later & stubbornness to stick to a task and see it through & quick thinking & agility and speed of inhuman proportions (thanks to his less than human side) .

HABITS. clicking his teeth together repeatedly when annoyed & flexing fingers & playing with his hair in absentminded / lazy moments & silently staring at someone when he’s done with a conversation until they catch the hint and stop talking & if there’s music playing within earshot he always ends up swaying to the beat & will often make less than human sounds (growls, etc.) when angry if he doesn’t catch himself .

EDUCATION. average student throughout elementary , middle & high school . graduated with an equally average gpa of 3.0 , & decided against college, choosing to seek education in less typical places . fed up with his family and much of the treatment of his peers, he began to learn magic from a witch he met on one of his regular trips to wander the ghost river triangle and explore & learnt magic and about the more mystical parts of purgatory - ultimately becoming a skinwalker via the witch’s guidance and training .

[ iii. APPEARANCE ]

FACECLAIM. booboo stewart .

HEIGHT. 5 ' 8 " , though when able to he wears combat boots that add a few inches to his height .

EYES. a very keen and observant hazel when he’s in human form . when shifting , eye colour can range from yellow to red to green to blue depending on many factors - location , how far he shifts , etc . always alert and bright unless intoxicated or in very rough shape emotion-wise . often wishes they were green or grey and has considered wearing contacts to change his eyes (human-wise) to those colours.

EYEBROWS. defined arch but not so much so that it’s dramatic . not too thin and not too bushy , and naturally neat - he rarely has to tend to them and usually only does so to shave a tiny slit or two through them as a stylistic choice .

HAIR. long and dark ; sleek with an ever so slight wave to it . typically worn either down or in a loose ponytail , occasionally sections are braided . falls just a few inches above his ribcage . every so often he’ll dye streaks into his hair but has never dyed his whole head .

SCARS. many . he has a variety of smaller scars from a rowdy childhood; a few faint ones on his hands and arms from scratches borne of cats and dogs . the typical scars that come from falling off bicycles or off swings ; scraped knees and cuts on chins . his forearms especially are covered in scars he prefers not to speak of . there’s a scar on his forehead from a fight with his cousin as well as a few long scars on his back .

DRESSING STYLE. it varies depending upon mood and whatever job he has at the time . especially fond of punk / alternative styles , likes leather , and enjoys the comfort of loose and flowing garments. whatever style he happens to choose at any given time , he wears well and somehow always manages to draw attention - whether from the jewelry he accessorises with (varieties of bracelets and cuffs , rings , pendants with gems , etc.)

LIPS. naturally full , scar at the right corner of his lip , occasionally sore or split when he goes through anxious phases and tends to chew at his lips .

SKIN. smooth , tanned . he doesn’t have much body hair , a fact that doesn’t tend to bother him much. he rarely engages in a skincare routine and much like his eyebrows generally stays neat and well-kempt without much effort . does not wear much makeup but enjoys eyeliner from time to time . if not for his skin tone, the dark circles beneath his eyes would be much more visible .

CHEEKS. defined cheekbones , not easily flushed . sports the occasional scars due to nervous picking when he was younger.

[ iv. ABILITIES ]

LANGUAGES SPOKEN. english [ fluent ] , hopi [ conversational & spellwork language ] , spanish [ conversational ] .

THREAT LEVEL. mediocre to high .

WEAPONS. fairly efficient in his understanding of magic and can easily hold his own with either combative or defensive magic , but prefers when possible to rely on his own physical skills ; is proficient in hand to hand combat thanks to the speed , agility , and strength bequeathed upon him by his skinwalker nature . very skilled in knifeplay , whether throwing or up close . has little to no practise with firearms as of 1x01 .

MAGIC. magic learnt by his mentor was primarily elemental based and neutral in that it could easily be manipulated for defensive or offensive ; he was never extremely proficient and left before he could complete his training so he is still learning his limits and the heights he can reach , and wants to branch out . as for the magical abilities granted by his status as skinwalker - he is able to shapeshift , which saps him of certain levels of energy that depend upon what creature he takes the shape of . he is also granted higher than average speed, agility, and strength because of this which he keeps with him even when not shifting.

[ v. DETAILS ]

➣➣ he was born in georgia originally to a loving but struggling mother and father - his mother was hopi and his father was creek, and while both parents had originally lived on their own respective reservations, they had met one another by chance during a trip and fallen in love, eventually deciding to seek out their own home outside of the reservations. his parents loved him but struggled financially; eventually his mother’s sister offered to take him in. as that was the better option rather than the three of them becoming homeless, crow’s parents sent him to live with his aunt in arizona on the rez. while they stayed in touch, his parents needed to stay in georgia, and as such he only would see them on the occasional holiday.

➣➣ while his aunt meant well, his cousins were another story. living with his aunt and uncle would have been fine had it not been for their two children; a son and daughter who constantly bullied him behind their backs for not being pure hopi as they were, often harassing him about being a ‘halfbreed’. a quiet boy at heart to boot, he faced bullying in school as well all the way through high school. his cousins, in tenth grade, snooped in his room and found his journal - which they used to out him as pansexual to the school.

➣➣ the moment he graduated, he spent as much time off the rez as possible, avoiding his cousins. on one of his frequent trips to simply explore nearby cities and towns, he found himself in purgatory. one drunken night led to following a mysterious woman into the woods. as it turned out, she was a witch. intrigued and excited at the idea of learning magic and having a way to defend himself, he quickly took her up on her offer to teach him. after a few months, she let him in on her secret - she was a skinwalker.

➣➣ she talked up how powerful she was because of it, and how no one would ever hurt her again. the more he heard about it, the more he wanted it. still unhealed from the way he was treated growing up and too caught up in the concept of never having to be beneath someone ever again, he agreed to let her hold the ceremony that would make him one as well without thinking of the consequences. when she told him that the final task he needed was to kill a family member... he almost faltered but agreed and went back to the rez.

➣➣ he almost didn’t do it. it was night when he returned, and he could see his male cousin drinking on the porch. the concept of killing someone - even someone like his cousin who had treated him so poorly - was daunting. he might have changed his mind had his cousin not seen him arriving and was immediately being malicious; using homophobic slurs and accusing crow of having run off with a lover, talking about how disgraceful it was. and it all was a blur from there.

➣➣ bringing back a lock of his cousin’s hair to the witch, she finished the rituals and he became the creature she had promised - powerful but at what cost? still wrought with guilt despite having made the ultimate choice, crow left the forests on the outskirts of purgatory where he had been training and into the ghost river triangle itself, unable to go home after what he did and unable to stomach facing the witch. living out of his truck, he went from odd job to odd job, eventually landing a stable job as a cashier at a grocery store. around this time he chose to begin going by the name crow - both to distance himself from his past, and because if someone were to want to control or destroy him now as a skinwalker, they could do so if they knew his true, personal name. as such, a nickname seemed the safest bet.

➣➣ fastforward to present day (1x01). after a few years of cashiering and attempting to rent rooms and apartments without success, as well as a stint playing guitar for an up and coming rock band, crow landed a job as a bartender at one of the local bars and instead of attempting to rent rooms or apartments, ended up moving into the trailer park. it was sketchy to say the least, but he couldn’t afford anything fancy and clearly didn’t handle having roommates well. a trailer seemed like the next best thing, outside of living in the woods or in his truck. his tendency to mind his own business and expect that of others meant that he mingled with normal purgatory residents and the revenants equally, pursuing his hedonistic nature as he pleased. which was all well and good, until things began to get... a lot more chaotic due to a curse and an heir he had originally had no knowledge of.

[ MORE TO COME THROUGHOUT CHARACTERIZATION DEVELOPMENT ]

#temporary biography tag

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euhande · 4 years ago

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⟨ SIMAY BARLAS. CIS FEMALE. SHE/HER. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, HANDE DEMIR is actually a descendent of A R E S. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-TWO year old PRE-LAW MAJOR from ÜBERLINGEN, GERMANY has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite AMBITIOUS & ABRASIVE.

BACKGROUND

hande’s mother is a highly accomplished aerospace engineering graduate from one of berlin’s premiere universities, having worked for various defense companies as a missile specialist since graduating with her master’s degree. she may basically be a rocket scientist, but it’s not rocket science to figure out why ares was attracted to her 😉

they began a tumultuous, on-and-off again relationship that would last for 5 years, and it was only when hande was born that ares dropped the bomb on her mother that monsters were going to try and eat their baby, so she better buckle the fuck up and get ready to raise a demigod

that was the essentially the ending of their relationship — ares became an absent father the way most greek gods are, intermittently sending birthday cards every few years but often getting the dates wrong. she can count on one hand the amount of times she’s met him in-person outside of being a baby, while her mother has been a constant (if sometimes suffocating) presence in her life. she wouldn’t say much about hande’s father when prompted by baby hande, just that he was an asshole and didn’t deserve to meet her, which, fair

from the time she entered kindergarten, it was obvious that she was highly intelligent but had, to put it mildly, explosive behavior problems that would routinely disrupt class time. students were constantly picking fights with her for reasons beyond the teachers’ comprehension, often times materializing from thin air or being an extreme overreaction for typical kid teasing and shenanigans.

schools didn’t know what to do with her. they tried claiming she had emotional problems, they tried moving classrooms, moving schools, and nothing worked. it wasn’t until she was eleven that she was found by a satyr and encouraged into joining a demigod camp over the summer, so that she would be able to control what was undoubtedly emerging odikinesis

that same year, her mother found a higher-paying work opportunity and relocated them to a small city near the swiss border called überlingen, which is home to a prominent defense company that manufactures, you guessed it, missiles. it was a shit ton of change coming from both mortal and demigod sides at hande, and she was resentful of her mother for years for hiding such a crucial fact from her... nevertheless, she was grateful she had a chance to start fresh in a new place and was able to explore the demigod side of herself at the demigod camp in athens

it was pretty obvious she was a child of ares, but she wasn’t claimed until she punched a boy in the teeth for harassing her and knocked out a couple of his teeth. iconic queen.

an elite german boarding school nearby was where she attended mortal school, admitted fully on her merits (the discipline record was conveniently covered up by the mist), but it’s not like she could magically wish away her powers and function as a normal mortal in school. she had a shaky control of her odikinesis up until she was a teenager, and would often provoke other people in her grade, both accidentally and on purpose. she gained a reputation among her school as one of the more... well-known residents, and while she graduated without getting into a fist fight (on school grounds, that is), she also graduated with no friends.

eonia university was the logical place for her to attend college, elite and rigorous enough to satiate her ego while still being a haven for demigods, and she’s currently majoring in pre-law with the intent to go to law school and become a lawyer!

PERSONALITY

she’s an acquired taste for sure

someone’s first impression of hande is typically negative 95% of the time, and she’s not even remotely insulted by that. she knows she’s brash, she knows she’s outspoken, she knows she can be mean, and she’s unapologetic about it because why should she have to adapt her personality to be palatable to people who are probably weaker and stupider than her??? (her thoughts not mine)

i really have to stress she’s not a dick just because she likes to be a dick to people... like she’s not gonna go to up to anyone’s muses and start bullying them in person for NO REASON.... she is an ADULT WOMAN.... but you provoke her, and there will be a reason

she’s extremely passionate about causes she believes in and sees her opinions about everything from food to weather to politics as the complete truth, so what she might see as playful banter when someone holds a different opinion actually comes across as extremely rude and bitchy to the person getting brutally attacked by her unwarranted point of view. but when she’s actually trying to argue with you, you’ll know

she’s kind of unique for a daughter of ares in that she really doesn’t engage in much physical violence since she entered college, preferring instead to start what could be considered “warfare” over the internet and academically with similarly high achieving peers. but she DOES know how to fight, she just would rather die than have another child of ares intervention by the demigod authorities ASDKSKDFSDMF

so ambitious and academically competitive. it’ll cause her to have an aneurysm at age 22 at the rate she’s going. you didn’t hear it from me but she isn’t ABOVE sabotage if someone tries stealing her #1 spot... tonya harding anyone?? hande is definitely someone who would sacrifice you to a monster or shove you into the lake if it meant she looked better in the end... so that’s something she probably needs to work on

BUT with all that being said, if you aren’t being beaten down by her insane argumentative skills, and hande actually takes a genuine liking to you, you’ll find that she’s... a pretty normal person for the most part. she’s pretty witty, fiercely loyal to the few friends she does have, super smart, and generally pretty enjoyable company. very generous with her money (loves paying for her friends’ food) and cares deeply about everything she argues so intensely about. a lot of people never give her enough of a chance to get to know her (and understandably so), but if you did you really wouldn’t find the image of a shallow bitch that’s often projected onto her

there’s this facebook meme that goes “Need to find new haters... my old ones starting to like me 😂” and that’s it that’s her entire life

if you want to know more just read her app!!

MISCELLANEOUS

fluent in german, greek, english, and turkish (in order of how often she uses them, though greek is arguably used more than german at this point, she’d just rather die than admit it)

she starts twitter wars and trolls people online in all 4 languages. it’s her primary pastime and she’s been permanently suspended from twitter a whopping 4 times, but every time she just re-spawns and comes back stronger. absolutely notorious for saying out of pocket shit what she thinks about any given european country and the people who live there and getting ganged up on by said people SASDSDASD her favorite people to cyberbully are british people and french people... rip

captain of the debate team, and part of model un and mock trial. her ruthless captaincy of the debate team has caused multiple freshman interested in joining to flee in tears, but eonia routinely kicks ass in debate in tournaments across greece and europe as a whole, so it’s not all bad. she is unbelievably skilled in debate and honestly pretty friendly to the people who actually manage to stick around on the team

kicked out of the feminist club for being overtly confrontational... if your muse is in the feminist alliance, hmu for plots

when she started attending athens’ demigod camp, it got in the way of her going to istanbul with her mother every summer to visit family. she's only started routinely going again since attending university, so most of her time is spent between istanbul and athens and hasn’t been back to germany in a hot second

i just feel like she has the type of energy to own a chihuahua and carry it around in her purse. no allowed pets at eonia but STILL.... that’s the vibe lads

her sexuality is ambiguous and she likes to keep it that way because it’s no one’s business but any and all romantic plots are open to all genders :~)

aside from her odikinesis, she’s able to put minor curses on weapons and will usually do so to make somebody else look like a fool during training

#euintro #waltzing into my own party late... wow #i could definitely add more but. this NEEDS to be posted

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starwarsfic · 4 years ago

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I.13

Originally posted July 26, 2020

Summary: Mandalorians and Jedi don't mix, but when Obi-Wan's visions are too horrific for his parents to counter, he is given into the Temple's care.

Details: Tyvokka & Obi-Wan. Born a Mandalorian, raised a Jedi Obi-Wan.

xxxxxx

It takes Ala-Wan five planets to find a jetii. When she does, she spends a whole day observing him, blending into the market where he seems to be collecting information, before approaching him.

This was not done. And, yet, she had no other choice.

He was wary of her, as he should be. Her beskar'gam was back on her ship, as was much of her weaponry, but no Haat'ade would ever be less than a challenge.

Still, perhaps using the magic that the jetii controlled, he heard the truth in her words and went back to that ship. To her precious ad, the greatest treasure she'd ever earned.

They could not help him.

The jetiise were the only ones who could.

When it was, she could only hope her little Obi-Wan forgave her someday. That he understood why she had to do this.

***

Master Tyvokka did what he could. Obi-Wan's lineage brother, Plo Koon, and his friends like Qui-Gon Jinn tried, as well.

When the Mando'ade heard his full name, it meant something to them. It made even Satine Kryze, who they were guarding, nervous. No one would tell him why, as though they were protecting him.

No one would tell him until he finally just asked an opponent while they were fighting Kyr'tsad. The hut'uun had found it hilarious, and finally told him of the history he'd not known--he was all that was left of his Clan and House.

They saved the Duchess, his skin crawling and mind screaming as they reaffirmed New Mandalorian power.

He left beside his Master and was informed it had all been a test--that soon enough he'd be a Knight.

Standing in the Council chambers, where he'd spent so many happy hours of his Padawan years with his Master, that did not bring him the joy he had expected.

***

He was twenty-four years old when he became a Sith Killer.

For once, Obi-Wan didn't feel like he was precariously straddling two cultures at odds. He was floating high on the praise and regard from his peers, the affirmation of his Knighthood.

***

He was thirty-five when he found out that (of course) Kyr'tsad was full of liars. And that every moment of the last eleven years of trying to extract himself from his past, to be a Jedi and not Mando'ad, had been a lie he was telling himself.

The Kaminoan stood with him outside an open door, completely unaware of what she was doing as she introduced Jedi Master Obi-Wan Mereel to the beroya Jango Fett.

xxxxxx

A/N: For the anonymous prompt: "Mandalorian born obiwan but he’s still given to the Jedi, but still wears the armour/speaks the language.. basically like Tarre Vizsla (also could you preferably make him/his family true mandalorians?) with eventual jangobi! I love your writing!" This was originally published here

Basically, I was thinking one of Obi-Wan's moms was a Stewjoni who fell in love with a Mandalorian (who happened to be Jaster Mereel's sister).

Mando'a: jetii/jetiise - Jedi/Jedi (pl) beskar'gam - armor Haat'ade - True Mandalorians riduur - spouse cin vhetin - white field, becoming Mandalorian and basically getting a blank slate buir/buire - parent/parents aay'han - bittersweet perfect moment of joy and mourning dar'manda - disgraced former Mandalorian ijaat - honor hut'uun - coward (very awful insult) beroya - bounty hunter

#character: obi wan kenobi #verse: mandalorian obi wan #character: tyvokka #verse: different master #ship: tyvokka & obi wan

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ohhophelie · 4 years ago

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ORIGINS & FAMILY:

Name: Ophélie Evangeline Redgrave

Nickname: O, Fee

Birthday: 31 July 1992

Age: 28

Gender: Female.

Place of Birth: London, United Kingdom

Places Lived Since: London, United Kingdom; Saint-Malo, Ille-et-Vilaine, France

Current Residence: Kensington, London, United Kingdom

Nationality: British & French

Parents: Lambert & Sérephine Redgrave, née Callac

Grandparents: Harold Redgrave (grandfather, paternal, deceased) Hélène de Broglie (grandmother, paternal, deceased) Aurélien Callac (grandfather, maternal) Ophélie Hervé (grandmother, maternal)

Aunts & Uncles: Charlotte, Georgina Redgrave (aunts, paternal) Anita Acton (aunt, paternal)

Number of Siblings: Three brothers; Sébastian Redgrave (38), Arnaud Redgrave (36), Gaël Redgrave (32)

Relationship With Family: Ophélie is closest to Gaël, her other two brothers see her mostly as the family fuck up although they all feel somewhat protective of her as the youngest. This was particularly meaningful during the wild years of her teens when an attention starved Ophélie might find herself in places or situations she was likely too young for, they were mostly all still at home and willing to come collect her from wherever and keep her secrets from their parents. Her father has always been distant, she sometimes fears he’d rather forget she existed. Her mother is overbearing and critical - after three boys she thought Ophélie was at long last the daughter who’d belong only to her, a little doll to shape as she wished. She was very wrong.

Happiest Memory: The freedom and acceptance she finally found in university, the Christmas and New Years she spent with Gaël in New York when spent a year at NYU.

Childhood Trauma: oh boy - see this answer HERE

PHYSICAL:

Height: 5'4”

Weight: 110lbs.

Build: Slim - some might say too skinny

Hair Color: Blonde.

Usual Hair Style: loose curls, a careless, practiced ease. Sometimes she wears it up if she's bored enough, high ponytail when she runs

Eye Color: Blue.

Glasses? Contacts?: Neither.

Style of Dress/Typical Outfit(s): Expensive as fuck - if she had to choose a ‘style’ it would be classic. She isn’t conservative in the least bit, but she also isn’t one to go into more out there fashions - that is Gaël lane. She tends to favor dresses and skirts and more feminine looks. Ophélie caught in jeans is a very rare Ophélie. When she is home alone she is usually wearing a thin robe or some form of lingerie/pjs

Typical Style of Shoes: Ophélie does not like to wear shoes. However, given that going barefoot is usually frowned upon in society, she can usually be found in heels that match whatever she may be wearing. If she is very close with someone she will take her shoes off the moment she enters their home, and at her own flat can always be found barefoot.

Jewellery? Tattoos? Piercings?: She has both of her earlobes pierced, as expected. At one point she had a cartilage piercing, but she long ago forgot to keep it open. Unbeknownst to her mother and most of her family, she has both of her nipples pierced. Ophélie will say to anyone who knows that these are her favorite piercings. She has a tattoo of a scorpion on the nape of her neck. Everyday jewellery includes a heavy men’s watch that belonged to her grandfather, whatever earrings she fancies on any given day, as well as rings. The one ring she wears at all times is made up of three interlocking circles - when she is anxious or focusing on something Ophélie spins this around her finger.

Scars: She has a scar on her shin from falling off a horse as a child. The most recent additions include a thin line across her chest/sternum and a nearly perfect large C in the center of her back - she plans on adjusting that soon.

Unique Mannerisms/Physical Habits: When she is focusing, Ophélie will twist her ring around her finger. She has the tendency to curl her hands into fists and dig her nails into her palms. She also chews on her bottom lip, which has caused a significant investment in longwear lipstick.

Athleticism: Ophélie grew up playing tennis with her brother Gaël and got into running in her teens. She never does any actual races mostly because she couldn’t be bothered and also way too many people near her. It’s mostly a way for her to focus her own mind/punish her body.

Health Problems/Illnesses: She absolutely has an eating disorder from the unrealistic expectations of her mother when she was growing up. It is something she has struggled with most of her life that her friends are likely unaware of. Ophélie also has undiagnosed ADHD, PTSD, addiction issues that are yet to be explored.

INTELLECT:

Level of Education: BSc in Politics and Philosophy from LSE - it wasn’t exactly what she wanted to study but a compromise that got her parents off her back. If possible she’d want to go back to school for linguistics or art history.

Languages Spoken: English & French natively, Spanish fluently. Functionally fluent in Italian, a lingering understanding of Latin from prep school. She has a very good ear for languages and dialects and can pick them up quickly.

Level of Self-Esteem: Fluctuates between “I hate myself I’m such a bitch” and “I love myself I’m such a bitch.” No in between.

Gifts/Talents: Very good at languages and remembering things she’s heard if she cares enough to focus, weirdly good at crossword puzzles if she has the patience, has the ability to come off as unthreatening and use it to manipulate people.

Mathematical?: Hell no, she absolutely cheated her way through math and she is not at all sorry about it.

Makes Decisions Based Mostly On Emotions, or On Logic?: Emotions, particularly whims. She does have a vindictive streak and while that is based on emotions she can adapt logic to her purposes is.

Life Philosophy: live fast die young bad girls do it well. No joking, she doesn’t really have one or doesn’t like to consider it, but if we had to define it, somewhere along the lines of ‘never let them see you cry’ IDK TBD

Religious Stance: Was raised Anglican, not really about it. Enjoys the art and melodrama of the catholic church.

Cautious or Daring?: Daring, boarding on reckless, she has the arrogant privilege of the very wealthy, that they are untouchable and almost immortal.

Most Sensitive About/Vulnerable To: Her mother, people trying to lessen her or force her to be something she is not, her eating disorder/body image

Optimist or Pessimist?: says she's an optimist, mostly because she doesn’t let herself project any other way; deep down is def a pessimist mostly out of self preservation and years of building up armor

Extrovert or Introvert?: Extrovert.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Current Relationship Status: fucking her way through the french bros/leadership

Sexual Orientation: bisexual in that she is attracted to all beautiful women and men who are older, dangerous, and low key damaged.

Past Relationships: Only real/serious relationship was with Charles Jameson (alexa play champagne problems by taylor swift)

Primary Reason For Being Broken Up With: being caught cheating whoops

Primary Reasons For Breaking Up With People: boredom, afraid of getting to close

Ever Cheated?: yep, and if not for the way he reacted she might actually feel guilty about it.

Been Cheated On: not that she knows of

Level of Sexual Experience: very high and no she will not be slutshamed thank you very much

Story of First Kiss: A boy she met while staying with her grandmother in France. She was 11 and kissed him on a dare.

Story of Loss of Virginity: She’d just turned 14 but told him she was older, it was mediocre at best but she loved the rush of power she felt when she turned him down the next time.

A Social Person?: Very - she literally wouldn’t be able to do her job so well if she wasn’t. Plus shes a slut for attention and once you cross the threshold between casual friends and very close friends - she’s loyal as fuck.

Most Comfortable Around: Paul for sure, although she feels safe and comfortable with most of the frenchies she knows well - Noa, Laurent, Guillaume, Delphine, Sofie - its Paul she goes to first, her ride or die bitch. Outside of the French she feels comfortable around Spencer, shockingly, and within the family it's only Gaël who she feels she can even be remotely herself around.

Oldest Friend: Camilla Berkeley, her brother Gaël. Most of the people she knew through grade school and her teens she grew bored of or dropped for Paul and the French.

How Does She Think Others Perceive Her?: Dancing right on the knife’s edge between hot and hot mess; a fuck up; shallow and vain. For those who know her well she often fears they think she might be stupid or reckless, not as devoted as she actually is.

How Do Others Actually Perceive Her?: Literally dancing right on the knife’s edge between hot and hot mess. Those closest to her often think she’s smarter than she herself does, hopefully they also value and recognize her deep loyalty. All should think she's a great time.

SECRETS:

Life Goals: To be happy and find something and someone that makes her happy.

Dreams: That she will stop letting the negligence and cruelty of her parents - mostly mother, hurt her. That she will matter to someone, be loved and wanted for exactly who she is and not who they think she should be or who she pretends to be.

Greatest Fears: Being abandoned by those she loves, being hurt by those who should care for her, never being seen for who she is. Horses - she had a bad fall as a child and doesn’t trust them.

Most Ashamed Of: The walls she builds out of self preservation, lying to her brother when he only wants to help her.

Secret Hobbies: Puzzles - the more pieces and complex the better. It isn’t really that much of a secret because there is usually one in progress on the unused dining room table. Collecting first editions of her favorite books - it's a secret because she is usually too impatient to find a better deal or negotiate and will literally pay whatever the seller asks for it, usually above what it is worth.

Crimes Committed (Was she caught? Charged?): She has never been caught or charged, but possession with intent to distribute multiple illegal drugs, selling said drugs for organized crime. There was also that one time that she may or may not have led a man to his death, which although she has done her best to block this memory, would likely make her an accessory to murder.

DETAILS/QUIRKS:

Night Owl or Early Bird?: Both really, but that's the insomnia and stimulant usage.

Light or Heavy Sleeper?: light sleeper when she’s alone, heavy if she’s sleeping with someone she trusts

Favorite Animal: penguins

Favorite Foods: strawberries, champagne,

Least Favorite Food: anything mint

Favorite Book: The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson

Least Favorite Book: any of the myriad of self help books well meaning psychiatrists have suggested

Favorite Movie: Heathers, Jurassic Park

Least Favorite Movie: emotional porn - aka any movie specifically designed to make you cry without any profound or complicated themes other than ‘life is short’

Favorite Song: Kyoto by Phoebe Bridgers

Favorite Sport: she’s a tennis bitch for sure

Coffee or Tea?: coffee although she does like tea

Crunchy or Smooth Peanut Butter?: Ophélie is allergic to peanuts rip

Type of Car She Drives: lol no one let this bitch drive

Lefty or Righty?: Left

Favorite Color: the champagne sheer of the sun pushing through the curtains in an early morning, baby pink of her favorite peonies, rich red velvet of box seats at the opera, the soft golden grey of art museum marble floors.

Cusser?: Yep - but controls it around her family because she doesn't have the patience or stamina for the lecture/scandal it would cause her mother.

Smoker? Drinker? Drug User?: Never smokes, drinks pretty often, regular cocaine use since her teens, a more recent venture into pills.

Biggest Regret: Letting it go on so long with Charles, the fact that she still lets her mother’s cruelty hurt her, not going to school for what she actually was interested in.

Pets: two italian greyhounds named Pogo & Banana

#we told you this was melodrama | development #wow finally

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maidenof-thesea · 5 years ago

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Snakes & Butterflies | Part III

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Soulmate Au!, Fluff, Angst, Smut (Maybe, still debating)

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Jimin is sort of mean but that’s just for now! :)

Note: Hi guys! Here’s part 3 of my story and I just wanted to let you know that in this story, all of the boys will be semi-fluent in English, just so that it’s easy for mc to have conversations with them, but I will still keep the language barrier so as to not take away a main aspect of their personalities. Whenever conversations are happening in Korean, this symbol * will be displayed before and after the conversation. Plus the point of view switches from the readers point of view to Jungkook’s.

“Yah Jeon Jungkook!” a deep voice boomed from Jungkook’s phone. The rest of the dialogue was in Korean that I was unable to understand but the voice sounded upset.

“Taetae?” Jungkook questioned in confusion. And once again I was unable to follow along with the conversation. It was evident that this ‘Taetae’ was not Jimin, based on Jungkook’s confusion. I began to pet Yuki absentmindedly as Jungkook continued on with his conversation. Although the conversation from earlier was still running in my mind, and Minho was also still in my mind. Jungkook’s attitude about my lack of a Mark was still quite confusing and so was his anger with Jimin. But Jungkook had a point. I looked at him and he was smiling at whomever he was on the phone with, his dimples on display. His eyes were twinkling. I wonder if Jimin’s smile was still the same, just like Jungkook’s was. At the thought of Jimin, I was reminded of my dream and Miss Cassandra’s knowledge of it.

I felt a slight headache emerging, granted I did have an anxiety attack earlier and my father dropped a bombshell on me today. Yuki was starting to stutter in her constant purring, she must have sensed my fatigue before I did. I went to the kitchen to put my bowl of pasta in the fridge after wrapping it with saran wrap. Jungkook was still immersed in the conversation by the time I made it back to the living room.

“Hello!” the deep voice said with a slight accent, which made me skip a step. It was directed towards me. Jungkook turned around with his eyes wide, almost as if he had forgotten my presence all together. The voice belonged to the most beautiful boy I had ever seen. He had a box smile that adorned his heart shaped face, along with big eyes that were filled with curiosity but had a hint of mischief.

“Noona,” Jungkook said, turning to face me, missing how Taehyung glanced at him in surprise.. “This is Taehyung, one of my hyungs that will be coming next week. Hyung, this is Y/N.”

“Hello,” I said with a slight wave and a smile.

“She cute,” Taehyung said with a wink, causing me to blush for the umpteenth time today.

“Hyung!” Jungkook scolded. “Y/N-”

“It’s okay, Jungkook,” I said, gathering Yuki in my arms to stop the dwindling of my thumbs. “I’m actually gonna head to bed early, I have an early shift tomorrow. Goodnight Taehyung, Jungkook.”

“Goodnight Noona,” Jungkook said with a warm smile. Yuki meows as I start to walk to my room. “Goodnight to you too Yuki!”

Jungkook

The moment Y/N shut the door to her room, Taehyung just about exploded.

“Yah!” Taehyung yelled. “Who was that? She’s super cute! I’m gonna love America! You never said the girls there were that pretty!”

“I just told you her name hyung,” I said with a hint of annoyance. However I could never stay mad at him, I found him too endearing to be annoyed with him for too long. “It’s Y/N.”

“So that’s why you’ve been ignoring my phone calls!” Taehyung ignored what I just said. “Keeping her all to yourself huh? I don’t blame you!”

“I told you I had two finals in the morning,” I said, feeling myself getting a bit hot. “Then I had to go get the list of things Seokjin hyung asked me to get.”

“But you have time to answer Jiminie’s phone call and not mine?” Taehyung all but pouted. “Plus why do you call her ‘Noona’? You just met her today!”

“We are childhood friends,” I said, averting my eyes from the screen.

“WAIT!” Taehyung yelled, causing me to flinch and shush him. “The girl that you and Jimin grew up with?!”

“Yes,” I said, picking up the phone to take outside to the porch before Taehyung woke her up. “The one and only.”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung said, his eyes widening in understanding. “I only heard rumors but is it true that she is Jimin’s-”

“No, those are just rumors” I said, clenching my fists. As much as I hate lying to Taehyung, it wasn’t my story to tell. “I mean she was--is really special to us just promise me you won’t tell Jimin about Y/N.”

“Why?” Taehyung said, confused. “If the rumors aren’t true then it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“I want to surprise him,” I lied once more. There was no way Jimin would come if it meant reuniting with Y/N. I admit that I hadn’t really thought about it before, but Jimin was the last to agree to the vacation. I have a feeling he only agreed to come after hearing that the beach house was nowhere near the old town we were raised. “Where is hyung?”

“Working out,” He said, stretching, making the phone drop, no longer making him visible to the camera. “He let me use his phone because you were ignoring me.”

“Taetae,” a voice said offscreen. “Were you able to get a hold of Jungkookie?”

“Yea!” Taehyung replied with a hint of mischief that made me nervous. “He was busy all day apparently.”

“Being an international playboy?” Jimin said smiling, picking up the phone. He was freshly showered, with his cheeks red and his skin glowing. “Lots of pretty girls in America right?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I said smiling back. Even though I was upset with him, I couldn’t help but miss him. It had been a while since I last saw him. “I’m here getting an education not dating, besides-”

“Yea, yea” Taehyung laughed, coming back into the screen. “You’re waiting for ‘the one’, the one that rings the bell or whatever. But you really just can’t talk to girls can you?”

“Enough,” I said, yawning. It was only ten o’clock at night but I was also getting tired myself. “I’m gonna sleep now, bye hyungs!”

“Wait!” Jimin said seriously, making me pause. “This is important.”

“What?”

“So..are there pretty girls?” He said seriously but cracked a smile once Taehyung started laughing.

“Ugh,” I said rolling my eyes. “See you guys next week.”

****

I hung up the phone on their laughing faces and almost immediately I got scolding text messages about me hanging up on them first. And I walk back inside the house to see Y/N’s door closed and the light off. After today, I realized that Jimin never fully explained what happened when it came to Y/N. And I have a feeling Jimin has been hiding something from me. I mean I knew the gist of what happened basically through my parents discussing it but growing up, I never questioned the bond between Jimin and Y/N, I mean we were just kids! Then our Grandpa came to visit, and from what I remember that was when everything changed. That was when Jimin changed. His Soulmate mark-

“Jungkook?” Y/N said coming out of her bed, rubbing her eyes. “Why are you just standing there? You should be in bed.”

“Sorry Noona,” I said following her into the kitchen. “Are you thirsty?”

“Yea,” she said as she pulled out a water bottle from the pantry. And she unscrewed the cap and finished the entire bottle, almost choking. I took a step forward to rub her back but she placed her hand up to stop me. “Sorry, I was just so thirsty.”

“Bad dream?”

“Sort of,” She winced as she scratched at her arm. “The henna tattoo is just getting itchy, so I’m gonna put some ointment on and go to sleep. Goodnight Kookie.”

“Goodnight.” I say and I head off to bed. But sleep was almost impossible to achieve whenever I thought about what may happen next week. “I just want you both happy.”

“Hey!” my boss Patricia said as she entered the lobby. “I need you to start at three tomorrow afternoon, Melissa called out again.”

“I’m starting my vacation tomorrow,” I said, as I wiped the counter. “So I can no longer cover for call outs.”

“Crap!” she exclaimed. “I’ll pay you overtime please?”

“No, sorry” I said, no matter how obligated one feels toward their job, one has to remember other responsibilities, plus they just view you as a number, easily replaced by the next number. “You know I need to do this so I could live there for cheap right?”

“I know,” she moans. “You’re just the only reliable employee I have.”

“I know.” I said rubbing her back. “Besides why don’t you just fire Melissa? She only works eight hours a week and yet she still can’t be bothered to come in.”

“Trust me, I’ve been wanting to,” She says leaning on me, like I’m not trying to clean. “But she’s my boyfriend’s cousin and she sort of found out about us so she’s blackmailing us.”

“She found out that you aren’t Soulmates?”

“Yea,” she sighs. “I mean come on, it’s not my fault I haven’t met them yet you know? I love him and I’m not getting any younger, I want kids now, not later.”

“No I get it.” I say. “I’m sorry I can’t help.”

“It’s okay,” she says shrugging. “I’ll probably just get him to do it, to punish him.”

My boss was living proof that love can happen outside of Soulmates. She’s been with her boyfriend for years now, and they want to get married and start a family but the law won’t let them without permission from their actual Soulmates, that is if they are still alive. Which is barbaric and countless people have been boycotting certain laws pertaining to the ideology of Soulmates. Although the whole purpose of the Soulmate principle is pretty much obvious but that is not always the case for certain couples. Take my parents for example, I know my mom wholeheartedly loves my father, and my father loves her as well but it is evident that she loves him a lot more. Which is normal in relationships, not ideal but normal. Relationships fall apart, which is also normal, what’s not normal to a sense is that your freedom to move on from the relationship is determined by your Soulmate.

“Should we just change our names and move to Mexico?” Patricia sighed once more.

“Only the rich can do that.”

“True,” she laughed. “You can go home now, don’t your visitors arrive today?”

“Yea they do,” I said. “Rosa spent the whole day cleaning the house yesterday, even though I told her it wasn’t necessary.”

“Can I hire her to clean my apartment?”

“She’s expensive but I’ll let her know.”

“Ughh.” She moans once more.

“Alright bye! See you in two months!”

“WHY?!”

I was walking home today since I let Jungkook borrow my car to pick up the other guys, although I doubt they will all fit into my jeep, but he said something about them killing him if he didn’t at least greet them at the airport. He initially refused since he didn’t want me walking at night, but I reassured him that it was fairly safe since it was a short fifteen minute walk. The sun was starting to set and I put one headphone in to listen to some music. I was about to exit the property of the hotel, when a tall figure collided with me, knocking me flat on my but.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” a familiar voice said, reaching down to take my hand. I squinted to see through the sunlight, and Minho’s face was staring back at me in concern. “Y/N?”

“Minho?” I said standing up by myself without accepting his help. “Do you have a tendency to pop up out of nowhere when it’s inconvenient?”

“I deserve that.” he said with an awkward chuckle. “But do you have a tendency to insult people?”

“Only when they wait by my car at night after fraternizing with my father.”

“I deserve that too.” He says not denying the accusation. He takes another look at me and regards my outfit. He points to the hotel and then me. “Do you work here?”

“Why?” I say, feeling my gut clench. My instincts were telling me to lie, but I couldn’t really, my uniform already gave that away.

“I’m staying here!” He said with a wide smile. “Wow what a small world.”

“Huh,” I said nervously, good thing I was now on vacation. “I have to go now, have a nice stay.”

“Wait!” He says trailing after me. “Can we start all over? Will you let me take you to dinner? Or if you aren’t comfortable with that, we can go to the university. There’s summer classes in session and I’m teaching a class.”

“I’m gonna be pretty busy during the summer. So-”

“Please, Y/N.” he says, his eyes wide and his lips were formed into a pout. I never really thought about it, but he was quite handsome, he could be an actor or even a model for that matter. I felt my resolve wavering but my palms were becoming sweaty which has a tendency to happen when I’m nervous. “I really want to show you my work, I know I shouldn’t mention your father, but he did mention that you have a love for history and I believe the past may hold the answers to our mutual dilemma.”

I felt my eyebrows raise at that, my father hated that I chose a major in anthropology. Once I graduated, I was supposed to go study abroad in Mexico in the Maya Temples with a professor but certain complications happened since my father didn’t approve. But does that mean-

“You don’t think we’re Soulmates?” I said before I could stop myself. I felt my face flush with embarrassment. “Cheese and rice, please forget I ever said anything!”

He stammers for a second and starts to laugh which made me blush even more.

“I’m not gonna lie,” He says once he stopped laughing. “When your father told me about you, I initially thought so. But after seeing you and realizing that you are younger than me, it’s sort of impossible for us to be Soulmates. Most Soulmates are born in the same year. It’s very rare for them not to be the same age.”

If it was even possible, I felt my face flush even more.

“Don’t take it the wrong way!” Minho says after realizing I wasn’t responding. “I wouldn’t object to dating an attractive girl like yourself. You are ve-”

“I’m sorry,” I interrupted him. “I feel stupid. Please forget I ever said that.”

“Only if you agree to see my research.”

“Fine!” I said walking away. “But I decide when!”

“Fine!” He replied also with a laugh.

After that, I decided to jog my way home, since it was getting dark fairly quicker than I had anticipated. So focused on getting home on time, I failed to realize that the guests may already be there. By the time I reached the doorstep, the door was already being opened and a very startled familiar figure once again collided with me. However this time instead of falling flat on my butt, strong arms caught me, a shiver erupted in my body as soon as hands made contact with the exposed skin of my waist. I look up to see a very startled Jimin, who looked like he had seen a ghost.

“Jimin?” I whispered and a shiver went through his whole body and all of sudden I’m on the floor and Jimin took a step back, almost as if he recoiled from me. And for some reason that I can’t explain, that hurt more than the bruise forming on my bottom.

“Noona!” Jungkook yelled from the pathway that led to the private beach. He was running towards me followed along by another man. He helped me stand up and the other man picked up my satchel. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I said breaking eye contact with Jimin. “I just slipped. Thank you.”

“Hello, Y/N.” The man who picked up my satchel said as he handed it to me. “Nice to meet you, I’m Namjoon. Kim Namjoon.”

“Nice to meet you,” I replied tucking my hair into my ear.

“The others are still at the beach,” He continued with a dimple smile. “Do you want to join us?”

“I would love to, but I think I need to shower and I need to feed my cat.”

“I already took care of that,” a familiar deep voice said. Taehyung appeared behind Jimin, whose expression was emotionless. “She’s a very pretty cat. So you can come swimming with us if you want.”

“Thank you but I really have to shower,” I said with a small smile.

“She doesn’t want to,” Jimin said with a cold tone, and he walked briskly past us, causing me to flinch out of his way. “Let’s go Tae!”

Not only me, but also Taehyung and Namjoon were in shock. Why was he so angry?

“I thought you said he would be happy to see her!” Taehyung said to Jungkook. “It was supposed to be a surprise!”

I walked quickly inside, letting them continue their conversation, but mostly because I felt tears pooling at my eyes. I must be starting my cycle. It has to be that, otherwise why would I be so sensitive?

Jungkook

I wanted to follow Y/N inside, to see if she was alright but from the trembling in her shoulders, I felt like she needed space, especially after Jimin dropping her and being cold to her. This was not how I expected this to go.

“What was that about?” Namjoon asked me. “Taehyung said you guys were childhood friends, or at least that’s what you told him.”

Taehyung had already trailed after Jimin, who was already deep in the trail. Their voices morphing with the waves. I shrugged and started on the trail, I had to come up with a plan or else things would just get worse from now on.

“Hyung,” I said stopping in my tracks and Namjoon faced me. “I think Jimin is hiding something from us, I think he’s been lying to me this whole time.”

“About what?” Namjoon asked.

“About his Soulmate.”

“His mark is jagged which indicates that he was rejected. According to our history, we Neanderthals-”

“I know, we can choose to reject and accept it,” I said with my fists clenched. “But I don’t think that’s what happened here.”

“What do you mean here?” Namjoon said, confused. “Are you saying there is a connection between Jimin and that human?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying”

Prev / Next

Masterlist

#jimin #parkjimin #bts #jimin x reader #reader insert #soulmate au #soulmate!au #bts soulmate au #my work #kpop scenarios #kpop oneshots #bts fluff #bts angst #jimin angst #bts smut

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rickktish · 6 years ago

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BNHA Headcanons

Yagi Toshinori | All Might is asexual. He has had romantic relationships before and did enjoy them, but he’s a complete virgin and satisfied to remain such. He’s not utterly sex-repulsed, but he is rather uncomfortable with the idea of it. He generally assumes that if he met the right person he would be okay experimenting, but none of his past romantic partners have been “the right person,” so it’s kind of more of an idea than a practice.

Aizawa be trans.

Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic grew up with deaf lesbian moms.

Aizawa is a little bit autistic, mostly in regard to sensory issues and social cues. He doesn’t really portray a lot of overt autistic behaviors outside of his home because he’s very good at masking.

Iida is also a little bit autistic, and possibly Tsuyu though not as much for her.

Todoroki has never been diagnosed as autistic in any way. This will probably not change any time soon. He was so isolated growing up that it’s impossible to tell what social queues he misses because of inexperience and what may have less environmentally determined reasons.

If Todoroki ever was diagnosed as being autistic, his father would deny it to his dying breath and bury the evidence deep. No proof will ever arise of any particular doctor’s visits in his childhood having ever taken place. At all.

Todoroki was not allowed in the same room as his siblings from the time he was six to when he started high school. When Fuyumi started cooking she was required to leave his food in the room before he finished training and leave before he arrived. His only interaction with people other than his father for most of his life has been what he can catch on tv and radio and listening and sometimes talking through the walls with his siblings. The only exception was when dressing wounds, but whoever was sent to clean him up after training wasn’t allowed to speak to him nor he to them.

Izuku has never knowingly met another quirkless person, but he did grow up hearing about quirkless suicides on the news. During his late elementary school years, he started trying to attend the funerals for those he heard about on the news whenever he could make it. Some of them had a good-sized gathering, but others were empty, lonely affairs with only one parent attending— two is rare in households with quirkless children— and sometimes not even that. It’s left deep scars and he remains terrified of being revealed to have been quirkless previously.

Midoriya never really gets much taller. Where All Might is this giant— 7 foot something and before he lost all his power an enormous slab of meat and almost nothing else— Midoriya is just this little stocky determinator who definitely never breaks 5’10”-- if he even hit 5’8” it must have been a miracle. He beef, of course, but he short beef, not tall beef.

Todoroki is taller (6’- 6’2” ish) but slimmer than Deku and can curl up very extremely small. Sometimes he has bad days and comes home and curls up into a ball on the couch and when Deku comes home he just picks him up like nothing and holds him in his lap even though his thighs might actually be longer than Midoriya’s torso. Todoroki inherited his mother’s slim build, which translates on him as scrawny, wiry muscle where Deku may be smol but he got BUILT. His arms can cover Todoroki like a blanket, which is exactly what Todoroki needs on bad days.

Deku does the same fairly often for Iida, who has several weighted blankets but they’re just not the same as a warm person who knows what is okay and how to ask and cares and is the best friend he’s ever had

He’ll also occasionally hold Uraraka this way, but mostly only when she’s drunk. She’s a very cuddly drunk.

Actually a lot of the class has found themselves randomly curled up in Deku’s lap at some point for one reason or another and it’s honestly one of the most comforting things. Kaminari had a bad breakup, Tsu got really sick for about a week, Sato had a mild breakdown after a series of really difficult family challenges that culminated in his grandma dying, Tokoyami and Dark Shadow got in a fight that Deku ended up helping to resolve where they took turns with one of them in his lap and the other behind the couch until he got them to talk through it, Aoyama went through a bit of a rough patch with his French parent involving his parents’ messy divorce, it’s kind of just become a thing. For some it’s a one-off, a one-time thing that they’re grateful for but never repeat, for others it’s a regular event when circumstances align, and even those who have never actually wound up curled up in a messy ball of suffering of one kind or another have found themselves draped across or leaning against Deku at one time or another during some kind of distress. He’s very tactile and very comforting. He’s just a magnificent bean who kind of accidentally became dorm parent at some point and then stayed group parent even long into their hero years.

Deku has a habit of randomly picking people up and carrying them. It startled a few of his friends at first, but they all adjusted rather quickly and now it goes without comment. Besides, Deku gives the best hugs (aside from Shoji, Literal Huggin Machine), and being carried by him is basically just an extension of that.

Anyone whose legs are too long for him to piggyback rides on his shoulders, upright, like a toddler. Sometimes he’ll have one person on each shoulder. Giggles abound, but for the most part, they just keep conversing like nothing has even happened.

Various members of class B have wandered past or walked in on conversations between Deku and any combination of people he’s carrying and people he’s not. None of them are quite sure what to make of it. It becomes such a casual part of Class A’s lives that none of them can figure out why Class B is staring.

Uraraka has a bunch of planet mobiles that she sometimes sends floating around her room. She calls it quirk training, but really, she just really likes space.

No one in their class realizes what a space nerd she is until they’re in a science class and start talking about space and she can name every single thing and answer random obscure questions.

The whole class goes stargazing at some point and Uraraka points out every single constellation in the damn sky and it’s a wonderful evening. Someone responds by buying her a shirt with an otter in a flying saucer, backed by faint stars, captioned “i’m off to otter space”

She and Tsu also have paired Tshirts that both have a starry sky, where one is captioned “I have no idea where I am” and the other has an arrow pointing at a single star and says “You are here.” They trade who wears which regularly and never wear one without the other.

She jsut has a lot of space stuff, okay? She really likes space that’s all im tryina say she just really fucking likes space.

She is of an undecided opinion on Aliens and hasn’t explored the idea a lot

Sero is the aliens guy. Uraraka can tell you about celestial movements and the history of the discovery of the stars and constellations from three different cultural beliefs. She can describe interplanetary motion and actually understands the mathematics behind light and space travel. Sero is the aliens junkie who can tell you about coverups and mysterious floating lights and things.

Sero and Kaminari are conspiracy theory nuts and as far as anyone else is concerned they deserve each other.

Even Deku can only listen to so many “the US planted chemicals in the Luminous Baby’s home town and then spread them all over the world when the mutation worked” spazz-outs before getting a little twitchy-eyed.

Deku’s response to things he likes in chats is “my skin is clear, my crops are watered, my father has returned” and all his classmates are Concerned.

Midoriya Inko and Bakugou Mitsuki went to the same middle and high school, but Inko is two or three years older, so they were only there together in her last year of each. Still, they hit it off well in middle school and it meant that they stayed friends while they were at different schools.

At some point while Katsuki is in middle/high school, he and his mom have a huge fight that ends with everyone in the house in tears. His mom decides at that point that she needs to go to therapy to figure out how to be a nicer person. It’s a work in progress— it will always be a work in progress, her therapist tells her, and that’s normal and that’s all right— but their relationship is slowly improving. It gets even better when Katsuki starts attending therapy himself and working through his own issues, both those that are a result of his mom’s behavior and those that are entirely his own. Coincidentally, his other relationships also begin to improve at that point.

Bakugou is trans.

Bakugou transferred into Deku’s preschool halfway through the year. Initially, he was attending another preschool, but problems arose with the teacher when Bakugou declared his gender. Before he arrived, Deku had a fair group of friends who he played with. They were all equals, but Deku was the central figure of the class, being friends with literally every one of the other friends groups within. When Bakugou arrived, he asserted dominance by turning Deku into the laughing stock of the class, and it continued through middle school that way. This is why he describes the method he does during the special training with the kids— that’s what worked for him.

Deku knew Bakugou before that, because their moms were friends. He calls him “Kacchan” because they’ve known each other literally since they were in diapers, when both their moms would refer to them as “Kacchan” and “Zu-chan” because they were both so damn tiny and cute and precious. Zu-chan just didn’t stick the way Kacchan did.

Both Present Mic and Bakugou have some level of hearing loss due to their quirks. Mic is fluent in sign language, as is Aizawa. Bakugou doesn’t talk about it.

Deku learned sign language when he found out Kacchan was losing his hearing. He only brought it up once. It did not go well. He stays on top of it though, practicing with Present Mic whenever he gets the chance, just in case he needs it someday.

Bakugou has reading glasses that he hides very carefully in his dorm and never wears to class in spite of it probably making his life easier if he would.

When Bakugou and Kirishima get married they do in fact decide to have biological children.

They all have dark brown/black hair, because genetics, but at least one or two are born with blond hair that darkens over time instead of just having straight black straight away.

The mommy/daddy question is a real one, Bakugou struggling with questions of his identity as he tries to decide what he wants his kids to call him. He ends up being mum-mum for a short while in the midst of it all (he chooses to breastfeed because it’s better for his kids, dammit, he’s not gonna have them developing hearing problems because of improperly shaped ear canals or anything else of the kind that he’s heard can happen, and when his oldest starts babbling Kirishima has been calling feeding “num-nums” for so long that the kid starts saying “mum-mum” every time he’s hungry and it just goes from there), but eventually by the time all his kids reach middle school they all call him dad or pops. Kirishima is Daddy or Papa all the way through though.

They have three kids, one girl and two boys. It goes boy-girl-boy. Their eldest has a mutation quirk that makes his skin highly resistant to high temperatures. Their daughter has a slight mutation that makes her hands very rough but also an emitter type where she sweats not nitroglycerin but something chemically similar. Their youngest can transform his head, neck, and shoulders to be hard and sneezes nitroglycerin.

Kirishima was sexually abused by a relative as a child and struggles deeply with his sense of self-worth and esteem as a direct result. Starting high school was when he decided to stop letting his fear and pain control his life, hence the hair dye and other changes he made to himself.

Shinsou gets migraines when he overuses his quirk that aren’t really painful but leave him in a weird confused state where everything is too loud and too bright and he can’t really follow words because they just sound like noise. He goes nonverbal, closes his dominant eye against the brightness, and tries to keep going as normal but usually gets caught and pulled gently into a dark, quiet room to recover. They go away after he sleeps.

Bakugou has the most fashion sense out of any of class 1-A.

Hagakure is NLP blind from birth, since she was born invisible and light cannot bounce off her retinas because they reflect no light. She can, however, perceive the reflection and refraction of light around her, which is a semblance of sight for her, except that she senses it with her whole body like heat, not through her eyes. This is part of why she chose to be in the nude for her costume, because she can sense light better when it’s not blocked by her clothes. Eventually she gets clothes that are made of her DNA like LeMillion has which are invisible like her, but she dislikes how it blocks her light perception.

She reads by holding her hands over the page and feeling where the light is reflecting and where it is not. It takes a lot of concentration. She can also read Braille, and that’s easier on her, but often far less available. She has accommodations for quiet rooms to read in and sometimes to take tests in, though she’s embarrassed about it and often doesn’t take advantage of it.

The Todoroki siblings are all very different people, who went through different kinds of trauma as a result of their awful home life and grew up with very different attitudes about many things.

This said, there is exactly one moment in each of their lives in which they all behaved in the exact same way, thinking the exact same words.

At some point in their early adulthood, each of them independently stood in line at a store and noted a small stuffed animal on display. None of them were allowed stuffed animals as children.

None of them were allowed any soft toys as children.

Independently, several years apart from each other as each of them reached their majority and began living alone and free of Endeavor, four hands reached out and picked up the stuffed animal. Four minds thought to themselves, fuck you, Endeavor; I can have this now. And four siblings, never knowing that their older or younger siblings had done or would do the exact same thing, began collections of stuffed animals which no one except their most trusted friends ever saw.

Natsuo showed his husband. Fuyumi showed her spouse. Shouto showed Izuku. None of them ever knew about each other’s collection.

(Touya showed Hawks. It was the beginning of the end for Endeavor.)

Himiko and Twice know about Touya’s stuffed animal collection. He’s never told them, they just know, for their own reasons. Both of them have randomly attached little stuffed animals on keychains to various parts of his body and outfit, ostensibly to mock him, but actually to help contribute to his collection.

Kurogiri also knows, because he is the only well-adjusted adult in this whole damn scene, damnit, and he’s basically already parenting these absolute CHILDREN anyway he might as well spoil them a little as well sometimes. He doesn’t actually tell Dabi he’s doing anything, but he’ll randomly teleport a toy or two into the space where he knows Dabi keeps his Pile. Dabi is occasionally confused when he finds a toy he doesn’t remember purchasing, but kind of just tries not to think about it and appreciates the fluffy.

Shigaraki has a single thimble he uses to keep from disintegrating things he wants to pick up. It’s just big enough to cover enough of one finger to disable his quirk, but is too small for him to get all fingers on at once. It’s also pink.

Shigaraki can neither read nor write, nor can he tell time from anything other than a digital clock set to twelve hour time, not twenty-four. AFO got him young and never bothered to teach him, only indoctrinated him and trained him in what he would need to know in order to one day rule the earth. Which did not include reading, writing, or telling time in more than the least complicated way. He’ll have minions to do those things for him, so best not to bother.

#bnha #mha #rick's originals #rick's rambles #rick's headcanons #my recent fic thing Recompense was initially tacked on the end of this #but then i decided that it was enough to be its own thing #also I know opinions on Endeavor vary wildly #so i didn't want one controversial character opinion stopping people from reblogging this if they like it #i do have another controversial character headcanon that i might post if people express interest #but it's about the only character hated more than endeavor #so...#and it's got stuff i'm afraid will offend people #but then #im pretty sure my opinion on endeavor offends people too #so maybe i should jsut post it anyway...#idk #we'll see how things go #if you're curious about my controversial headcanon shoot me an ask

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blooming-atlas · 6 years ago

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Far Cry Ask Meme

The Basics 1. Give their full name, and describe them or post a picture! (Height, build, hair, eye, and skin color, etc.)

Name: Monica Harper

Nicknames/monikers: Deputy Harper, Little Miss Wrath, Moni, Kitten or Pup.

Hair: Black curly hair.

Hair style: Before her arrival to Hope County, Monica’s hair was curly and shoulder-length. However, she came to find that it was easy for Peggies or Jacob to grab her by the hair from behind and yank her back to press a blade against her throat. So now she just keeps her hair cropped short.

Build: A toned yet slender build.

Height: 5′3′’

Eye color: Dark brown.

Skin Color: Dark-skinned.

2. How old are they?: 25

3. Sexuality and gender?: Bisexual Female.

Pre-Game:

1. How did they end up at the Hope County Sheriff’s Department? How long have they worked there?

Monica was the daughter of Aaron and Ruth Harper. She lived in Hope County on the Harper Farm her whole life. Monica attended Hope County High School and was valedictorian: during this time, she was ( and still is ) extremely introverted and was not paid much attention to by her peers or any of the townsfolk who all regarded her as “Old Man Aaaron’s weird kid”. At one point, she lost her father to cancer and left Hope County to cope with the loss.

Monica was close to her own father, but after graduating from high school eventually chose to remain in Hope County because she knew that her father needed her to help run the farm. Monica grew to resent her father for holding her back and by the time Aaron died of cancer, Monica had many things she never got to say and lived the rest of her life regretting the breakdown of their relationship. From there she moved to the city and found herself involved in streaks of troubling relationships and bad decision making well into her early twenties until she finally decided to buckle down and pursue a career in law enforcement. At her mother’s request, Monica found a job as a Deputy and moved back to Hope County to work at the Hope County’s Sheriff’s Department

2. Relationship with Pratt, Hudson, and Whitehorse?

She never had a close and personal relationship with Pratt or Hudson. They were her co-workers and she was cordial towards them. Monica’s socially awkward nature made it hard for her to form any close relationship with her co-workers, but she found herself bonding with Whitehorse who filled in the void her father left behind. Monica is protective of her co-workers, but will lose her temper if the Sheriff is harmed or disrespected in any way. The events in Hope County would eventually change Monica’s relationship with Pratt and Hudson from co-workers to a family unit.

3. Do they have an education?

She graduated from high school and moved onto college where she dropped out due to depression and took up work as a Deputy in Hope County to support her mother.

4. Where are they from? Did they speak a different language there?

Monica was born and raised in Hope County. Her parents were farmers who worked the land in Holland Valley. Being one of the few African Americans living in a mostly white rural town they mostly kept to themselves and were seen as a respectable family by the townspeople. Aaron was a Hope County native whereas his wife, Ruth, was a French Canadian from Toronto.

Monica learned French from her mother and taught herself German in college. She is fluent in both languages and plans on teaching herself Spanish.

5. Is there anyone outside the valley that might have come looking for them?

Her uncle Malcolm. Malcolm was Aaron’s twin brother but the rarely agreed on anything and were constantly arguing over perceived slights. Aaron thought that Malcolm was too good to earn an honest living and Malcolm thought Aaron was a self-righteous hypocrite. However, despite the brothers’ stormy relationship, Malcolm was close to Monica. When he moved to Detroit the two exchanged emails and stayed in touch all the up until Aaron died.

6. Did they have a religious background of any kind?

She was raised Christian and has remained so.

Inside Hope County 1. What was going through their head when the helicopter went down and during the subsequent chase?

Time just seemed to slow down, all five of Monica’s senses seemed to become a lot sharper. Lights were brighter, sound were louder, smells were stronger and a sense of hopelessness overcame her because there was nothing she could do to escape the situation. Monica genuinely thought that she was either going to die or burn alive. All she could think about was her mother. Luckily neither of those things happened as she was able to escape and team up with Burke. From there she ran on auto-pilot, shooting down Peggies in her path and following Burke’s frantic instructions without question.

2. Were they afraid of Joseph and Eden’s Gate? Angry?

Joseph struck her as someone otherworldly and dangerous. The man’s unusual calm was unnerving and she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that he could see into her soul.

3. Did they trust Dutch?

Waking up to find that she was handcuffed to the bed didn’t exactly inspire warm feelings of trust towards the man. Still, Monica didn’t have a choice but to trust him and follow his instructions.

4. How did they feel about their team being taken by the cult, did they count them as lost, did they want them back, did they not care?

She was devastated when she heard about their capture and swore to reunite with them. Monica wasn’t exactly friends with Hudson and Pratt, but they came in this mess together and would survive it together.

5. How did they take to the idea of being part of, if not leading, the resistance?

Uncomfortable and angry. For so long she had been the wallflower of Hope County and now all of a sudden people were counting on her to clean up Joseph’s mess.

6. Which companions did they recruit, and who did they travel with the most?

She’s close to Grace Armstrong, Boomer, most of the Fangs for Hire, and Sharky. She loves her companions and sees them as another adopted family, but she prefers the company of animals and takes Boomer and Cheeseburger with her on missions. It helps to have a giant grizzly bear watching your back.

7. Did they have time to find romance amidst the chaos? How did they do it?

Romantic relationships with Monica were quick and fleeting. Many of them were passing flings and some last for only a couple of months before things deteriorated. Throughout it all Monica remained a virgin and held out a secret desire to lose it to someone she loves. Her relationship with Jacob is hardly “romantic” and there’s just too much emotional baggage for them to have a “healthy” relationship. But...they make it work.

8. Feelings about Joseph?

Due to the chaos he unfolded in Hope County, Monica distrusted and hated Joseph, seeing him as a threat to everything and everyone she loved. Joseph scared her and his constant touching and unusual fixation on her made Monica squirm something fierce. However, despite her fear of him...Monica believed in his vision and couldn’t help but feel that something terrible was going to happen to Hope County. The two would eventually go on to develop an understanding that would slowly morph into a strained friendship because no matter how “good” his intentions were, Monica will never get over his confession to murdering his own daughter and the slew of innocent people he killed to “save” them.

9. Feelings about the other Seeds?

Monica pities Faith. Even though she was constantly warned about Faith’s manipulative nature, Monica chose to believe in her story on how she was abused and made an outcast by her hometown. Monica believed that she could save Faith...but well all know how that turned out. Virgil and Burke’s death forced Monica to open her eyes and realize that there was nothing she could do for Faith. Still, Monica sympathizes with Faith but suffers from constant nightmares of being stuck in the Bliss.

Monica hated John. The man was like a dog with a bone and is the reason why she has a distaste for tattoos. His tragic backstory was enough to make her feel a little bit sorry for him, but his constant need to dangle Hudson’s life over her head like a carrot and being forced to listen to his insane ramblings on the radio made her really hate his guts. Monica hated John to the point where she no longer cared what he did...he just became an annoying gnat she couldn’t shake.

Monica started out seeing Jacob as an enemy. She despised Jacob because of what he did to Pratt, but for reasons unknown Jacob became instantly attracted to the woman who would become a thorn in Joseph’s side. Jacob initially played a cat and mouse game with Monica. He took a personal delight in “chasing” her and was pleased that she had the unusual ability to evade him and his Chosen for long periods of time. He wanted to mold her into the perfect hunter so that she may finally become his equal. Nevertheless, Monica spent more time alone with Jacob whenever he brought her into his compound for “training”, which made Monica start to see Jacob as more of a teacher than an enemy. This did not mean she agreed with his twisted beliefs. Their relationship evolved from enemies into something more and Monica feels extremely guilty for having such feelings for the man who devastated her co-worker and ruined countless lives.

10. How did they handle having to kill animals and other humans? Had they done it before?

Monica feels nothing when she has to kill wildlife for food...but when it comes to human she almost always breaks down. Not all Peggies started off as overzealous cultists...many of them had family, friends, pets...people who cared about them. She dislikes killing but will pull the trigger to defend herself and her loved ones... But their deaths weigh on her shoulders and she hates herself for not finding another way.

11. Which canon ending did they choose in-game, and would you have changed the ending at all?

Walk Away. Monica had gotten tired of fighting and just wanted it all to end. She didn’t want to leave her friends, but what other choice did she have? If I could change the ending I would have arrested all three of Joseph’s siblings and use them as leverage to get him to stand down or catch him off guard long enough to arrest him as well. If the bombs still fall then I headcanon that after arresting the entire Seed family Monica gathers as many townspeople as she can and sends them to whatever bunkers that are still open. She and Joseph form a truce and when the smoke clears everyone leaves the bunkers to rebuild the town.

Personal 1. Favorite weapon(s)?

Bow and Arrows. Also a shotgun.

2. Stealth or firepower?

Stealth sprinkled in with a bit of firepower.

3. How did they spend their time, when not fighting peggies?

Camping in the Whitetail Mountains with Cheeseburger and fishing with Boomer. Will also sneak away to meet up with Jacob at a private spot where they make out like crazy. These dalliances usually lasted for hours and left her feeling both satisfied and guilty.

4. Where did they live during the events of the game?

An abandoned cabin that no one knows about but her. Sure she sleeps over at Sharky’s trailer and Hurk’s place, but privacy is a rarity and her cabin is the only place where she feels relaxed. Sometimes Jacob stops by for the night when his nightmares become too much for him. No words are said during his visit. Monica will simply roll over to the other side of the bed and allow him to sleep next to her.

5. Any other facts you want to share about your Deputy!

Monica is an introvert and too much external stimulation wears her out. One of the many things she has in common with Jacob is her love for privacy. Both are private people and aren’t exactly the life of the party.

She has a strange relationship with Jacob Seed that can be seen as “love”. Monica hates herself for feeling this way whereas Jacob feels no such shame and aspires to make her “his” when her training is complete. He was furious with her for not sacrificing Eli ( she nearly killed him, but held back long enough to shoot him in the shoulder ) and disappointed when she began to resist his training. The near murder of Eli and Pratt’s brainwashing will always be a sore point in their relationship and on some level Monica hates Jacob for it.

My personal ending is that Monica successfully arrested each Seed sibling without killing them and locked them away in their bunker. She and Joseph called a truce and manage to rescue the entire town before the bombs dropped. It was uncomfortable sharing a bunker with group of people that tried to kill her and doubly uncomfortable meeting up with Joseph to go over plans to rebuild before leaving the bunker....but she made it work. People were tired of fighting and were more focused on rebuilding Hope County instead of restarting the war anew. Hope County is now a thriving bastion for survivors and Monica quit her job as Deputy to live in the Whitetail Mountains with Jacob.

#ch; deputy monica #far cry 5 rook #far cry 5 #rook x jacob

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ecchima · 7 years ago

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The Sound of Silence

Summary:

In a world where everyone hears music whenever their soulmate does, two souls struggle to find their other halves.

As far as he can remember, Hanzo has always been deaf but it's ok, because he can still hear music in his head.

As far as Jesse can tell, he doesn't have a soulmate at all.

Words: 8,1k Rating: T Warning: none Note: thank you to @delanbie, the McHanzo sanctuary server and my beta Soap. This fic wouldn’t have been writen and published without them! Art: http://delanbie.tumblr.com/post/170956941912/all-the-art-i-did-for-soulmate-au-from-the-mchanzo

AO3

Since the day he was born, Hanzo has been living in a world of silence. For years, no one knew why the young heir to the well-known Shimada clan did not speak.

At first, his parents thought he was just a quiet child, and the elders thrilled that even as a baby, their new heir was well behaved. It did not last long. When they noticed that Hanzo was starting to fall behind the other kids his age, his family tried to make him speak at all costs. Finally, after many fruitless attempts, they brought him to the hospital where a poor nurse had to deliver them the fatal news: Hanzo was born deaf.

A deaf leader? What a disgrace. The day following the news, Sojiro was called in front of the elders. Within the next month, Hanzo’s mom was pregnant again and nine months later, Genji was born.

They ran tests on the newborn as soon as they could, and all of them came back negative.

It did not take long for the elders to proclaim Genji their new heir, leaving Hanzo in the shadows.

When he was seven, instead of being sent to school, Hanzo was asked to sit for hours and learn sign language properly. He had known basic words, to ask for food or tell his parents he was cold, but even a disowned member of the Shimada clan must be flawless, and so he learned.

It was hard at first, since Hanzo did not know many words in either sign language or Japanese, but it brought him great joy whenever his father would ask him how his day was and he could answer with his own words. Sometimes, one or both of his parents would take the class with him, making his day even better.

Because of this, Hanzo did not have friends but he had something else, something better: a voice singing in his head. He didn’t know why it was the only thing he could hear, or why he seemed to be the only one able to hear it, but it happened nonetheless. Sometimes during class, or over dinner, he could hear either a clear and soft voice or a loud and boisterous one singing.

As far as he could remember, the singing had always been there and so he never wondered nor asked where it came from, or why it was the only thing he could hear.

One night, after a nightmare, he started humming the tune of one of the songs he had heard, unable to hear his own voice but feeling the vibrations through his mouth. It soothed him to pretend he could hear the voice singing. But he hummed so loudly and out of tune that it woke Genji up, upsetting him.

Hanzo tried to apologize to his little brother but Genji had dashed out of the room, crying that Hanzo was being mean to him and keeping him up on purpose.

Of course no one understood what was happening; Hanzo had never tried to use his voice before. When he told them he was simply trying to replicate the song he could hear in his head, his parents looked at each other oddly. His mother started crying and his father laughed.

They told him to go back to bed, that they would explain tomorrow, but Hanzo lingered. The elders weren’t around and Genji was already falling back asleep in their parent’s bed. He looked up and signed, “Can I stay?”

His parents did not even hesitate, signing back, “Of course.”

The following day, they all sat under the cherry blossoms and Hanzo’s mother started telling a story while her husband signed it.

Long ago, a young fisherman man fell in love with a woman whose singing was so mesmerizing that it was said to bring fortune unto whoever listened to it. He loved her so much that he would come by her house every day with a new gift, even though he was not particularly rich. He would bring her fruits, flowers, and on very rare occasions, pearls he had found in the sea.

She kept every one of his presents, and insisted that he did not have to bring any more, that he could come see her whenever he wanted. But every time, the young man arrived with another present.

One day, there was a violent storm and the young man broke his arm. He was unable to work but kept on bringing gifts to the woman. She begged him to stop, to keep what little he had at least long enough for him to heal, but he stubbornly refused.

She proposed to him then, saying, “If I am your wife, you will have no need to court me anymore.” The young man could not refuse such a proposition.

They got married on a beautiful day, had one child they loved above everything else, and grew old together.

The people in the village said they were so in love, their souls must be bound together. But, as the time passed, their health started to decay. The man’s knees protested when carrying him and the woman’s hearing started to fade.

Saddened to see his wife unable to sing or listen to any kind of music, the now-old man prayed to the gods, begging them to give his own hearing to his wife so that she could be happy again.

Upon seeing such great love, the gods agreed that two souls bound to be lovers would be able to hear the same music as their other halves.

When his mother finished her tale, she looked at Hanzo and signed, “I am so happy to know there is someone out there for you.”

As Hanzo grew older and became fluent in Japanese Sign Language, he was asked to learn the American one as well. After all, Genji had to learn English, so why shouldn’t he? And since he was finally able to understand his tutors, why not teach him other things? He was a Shimada after all, and Shimadas must be flawless.

Between being deeply buried in his education, Genji just starting his own, and with clan matters taking up most of his parents’ time, Hanzo started to feel lonely. He couldn’t ask his non-disabled brother to come home early after school and deny him the joy of having friends outside of the family, nor could he stay behind his mother’s robes, so he did what lonely kids with a lot of free time do: he started to draw.

Drawing was a nice, silent and creative activity that Hanzo could practice on his own, and it gave him a way to express himself without signing. At first, the only things he wanted to draw were cool and impressive dragons, just like the ones in his family’s dojo. Then he tried his hand at sentai warriors because Genji would stay stuck to the TV screen on Saturday mornings, watching those superheroes kick butt.

Practice makes perfect, as the saying goes, and Hanzo was a fast learner with lots of free time. At nine years old, he won an artistic contest after Genji had submitted one of his drawings in secret. The elders were not pleased, but Hanzo had a proud smile stuck to his face for weeks.

One day, as he was experimenting with inks, Hanzo heard a young voice in his head singing a song he had never heard before. It was a happy tune, the sort of thing he could picture Genji humming. The song was accompanied by some sort of instrument, but it seemed like the person singing did not know how to play it because some of the notes sounded as though they did not belong. Like that time Hanzo tried to paint a blue sky but messed up his gradient.

That comparison made him pause and look at his sheets of expensive ink paper. What if he tried drawing the song in his head?

During the following years, Hanzo mastered both American and Chinese sign languages on top of his other studies. Frustrated by his dependence on his hands to communicate, he began to take lessons in lip reading and, encouraged by his tutor, started learning how to speak.

Reading lips was hard, and learning how to talk through only vibrations was even harder, but Hanzo could always count on the music in his head to cheer him up. After all, one day he would meet his soulmate and he wanted to be able to explain just how much their songs meant to him, how they inspired him to paint… And how they kept him going.

He may not have been able to hear what people were saying about him, but he was not blind. He could see their fake smiles and hypocrisy from miles away. They pretended to like him, to be proud of him, but they pitied him. The perfect heir, put aside because he could not hear, working so hard to learn. How sad.

Meanwhile, Genji started to show just how little he cared about the clan, and Hanzo knew an argument was brewing about whether or not he should have stayed the heir.

Soon after Genji’s first attempt at rebellion -he had dyed his hair a horrendous shade of green- his mother grew ill and died. His father, facing an increasing number of duties, was all too happy to bury himself deeper into work to drown out his sorrow.

The only thing that brought warmth to Hanzo’s cold and broken world was the music he could hear from his soulmate. But even that was growing more melancholic and sad. He could still hear the musical instrument -his soulmate getting better at it- but more often than not, the music was just a sad acapella. The notes weighed heavily on Hanzo’s soul.

He wished he could sing back to tell his soulmate he was there, that they would meet someday and live happily. But he knew that even if he could sing perfectly, the person he wanted to sing for wouldn’t hear it.

As Hanzo entered adulthood, the music in his head changed. After years of sorrowful tunes, the joy he had heard as a child began to come back. It started as a rare occurrence, one song here and there in the middle of long stretches of silence, but it was definitely coming back, bringing a palette of warm colors to Hanzo’s paintings that hadn’t been seen in a very long time.

Suddenly, life was bearable again. Not quite happy, but good enough. Hanzo started to exhibit his work, and the elders were too busy with Genji’s rebellion to advise him against it.

Success knocked at his door -the people loved his paintings, both the sad and the happy ones. The elders let it slide, pleased to have good publicity for a change.

A couple years before Hanzo turned thirty, he noticed the singing in his head was becoming muffled. The songs were happier and more frequent, but somewhat muted. At first, he thought it was himself paying less attention to it, but soon he realized he had trouble understanding the lyrics when he had once heard them as though his soulmate was sitting next to him.

He started to worry: what if his soulmate was ill? It could be that their strength was leaving them… What if the gods had decided that Hanzo did not deserve this person? He had never tried to leave the city to seek them out, after all.

The days passed and the music grew fainter each day, almost unnoticeably slowly. Anguish rendered Hanzo’s paintings tormented, tortuous. He started painting foggy forests and muddy water, giving the viewer the impression that they could get swallowed and lost.

People called them masterpieces; Hanzo called them nightmares.

The last song he heard from his soulmate reminded Hanzo of his mother’s funeral. It was muted, sad, and made him feel miserable. After that, there was nothing.

Hanzo had always been deaf, but for the first time in his life, he was truly left in silence.

The first few weeks of complete silence were bad but manageable; when it turned into months, Hanzo started to worry a lot more. What if his soulmate had died? What if that last macabre song had been played at their funeral?

Hanzo found the silence smothering, making it hard for him to get up in the morning, hard to wash up, hard to eat.

One day, Genji entered his room with a bounce in his step. Hanzo wasn’t sure just how long it had been since he last left his room, but seeing his little brother admittedly made him feel better. Until Genji really looked at him and his features scrunched up into a frown, sadness and worry evident in his eyes.

“Hanzo, what’s wrong?” Genji signed.

He opened his mouth to answer but could not muster the strength to use his voice. He felt tears form at the corners of his eyes, so he tried to wipe them with his sleeve only to find that he did not have the strength to do that either. So he simply cried.

He didn’t know when Genji sat on the bed to hug him, but once he had calmed enough to feel the world around him, he found himself holding onto his little brother like a lifeline. He was tired; he wanted to sleep and never wake up again, but when he gently pushed Genji to let him know he wanted to rest, his brother signed again.

“I don’t want to force you, but you seem like you need to talk about it.”

So Hanzo did. They sat there for hours as Hanzo spilled his heart, telling his younger brother everything about the music, how it had started to fade, how it had stopped for months and how hollow it had left him.

Genji stayed by his side, rubbing comforting circles on his shoulder through it all. Once he was done signing, Genji took ahold of his jaw, making him look up.

“You know what? The elders don’t need us and you could use a vacation. How does a trip to America sound?”

It took some time to convince Hanzo to leave Japan, then some more time to convince the elders that the vacation was very much needed while their continued presence in Japan was not. But when they finally landed in San Francisco, Hanzo felt some of the tension leave his body.

Genji did his best to give Hanzo the most amazing holiday he could and, in turn, Hanzo tried to be less of a burden on his younger brother. There were still bad days, but he was doing better overall so they decided to stay. They rented a nice, modern house by the sea and started what they called their “second life.”

The elders called about once a month to discuss their “allowance,” as if they were still children, but never asked them to come back. Eventually, Genji found a job as a martial arts instructor in hopes of cutting the bridge between them and the clan. Hanzo likewise began working as a Sign Language teacher and soon their “allowance” was cut off.

Their only link left with the clan was their aging and retired father, who was all too happy to call them both to pass the time.

Eventually, Hanzo took up his artistic hobbies again, painting various places in the city. He could see the pain in his brother’s eyes whenever he showed him his monochrome ink paintings, depicting the world as he saw it: cold, uninviting, and colorless. He refused to use color; the cheerful hues reminded him too much of a time he believed to be over, of a world where he knew someone was out there for him.

A few months after they made the decision to stay in San Francisco and almost a year after the overbearing silence had started, Hanzo found himself humming. He was in the middle of a class, watching his students -people of all ages and origins- practice conversing when it happened.

It came naturally to him, like getting back on a bicycle after winter had passed. That may be why he did not notice it until a bunch of his students looked at him with weird expressions on their faces. He turned to face them and signed, “Is something wrong?”

They looked at each other until one of his favorite students, a young mother learning the language to communicate with her deaf niece, signed back to him.

“It’s just,” she paused to choose her signs carefully, “we have never heard you hum before.”

Hanzo shot her an incredulous look. There was no way he could have been humming; he hadn’t even heard music since-

That’s when he noticed it, that barely audible and rusty hum in his head. A muted song morphing into whispered lyrics:

Fools, said I, you do not know Silence like a cancer grows Hear my words that I might teach you Take my arms that I might reach you But my words like silent raindrops fell

And echoed In the wells Of silence

The rusty voice faded back into a hum then, and Hanzo found himself unable to move. The voice was definitely deeper and harsher than he remembered, but it was there, his soulmate was there.

Hanzo let out a sob, unable to keep the tears from falling. His entire class was looking at him then, and the mother from earlier started to applaud. Soon, all of his students were clapping their hands, congratulating him. Even though they didn’t know the story, they could tell it had something to do with his soulmate and they knew just how important it was.

As soon as he could stand up and hold his phone, Hanzo excused himself to video call his younger brother. He started to cry again when he tried to deliver the news, making it impossible to talk. After ten minutes of fruitless tears, he received a text from Genji, asking Hanzo to join him at the dojo.

When he got there, Genji cut his class short and lead them both to a secluded booth in a café. He got them hot drinks and let Hanzo talk as long as he needed, not interrupting even once, which was a rather impressive feat for Genji.

When Hanzo was finished, Genji gave him a hug and insisted that Hanzo hum him the song. He did, with hands on his temple and throat to better feel the vibrations. It was probably horrible, but Genji listened and thanked him nonetheless before telling him the name of the song: “The Sound of Silence.”

During the next few days, Hanzo heard humming and singing a lot, but there was no trace of a musical instrument. He didn’t know why his soulmate had been silent for so long or why the instrument was gone now, but he suspected a pretty bad accident or severe depression. He tried not to think too hard about it and just enjoy the simple knowledge that someone out there was meant for him and, more importantly, that he could hear them sing.

A week later, Hanzo was sitting in their living room, dozing off while Genji was watching a documentary. They had the subtitles off so he wouldn’t be distracted from the scenery, content to watch as colorful birds performed some kind of mating dance on the screen while his soulmate’s humming played in his head. He burrowed deeper into their comfortable sofa, ready to fall asleep, when suddenly the humming got very loud, startling him.

For a few minutes, the volume of the humming varied wildly before settling on a somewhat normal middle setting. That’s when he realized: his soulmate must be trying out hearing aids. Hanzo grabbed Genji’s shoulder then, shaking him in his excitement. His soulmate’s hearing was impaired; they would be able to relate when they finally met!

Hanzo talked too fast and had to repeat the signs more slowly for Genji, who then grinned and told him that he believed his own soulmate had hearing aids, too. Hanzo gasped, unaware that Genji had heard his soulmate at all. With all his personal turmoil during the past year, he hadn’t even thought to ask his younger brother about it. It was time to change that.

“You did not tell me about your soulmate,” he signed.

“Well, I went to your room the day I heard them for the first time so I could tell you about it but,” he paused and looked away. Hanzo shook his shoulder again, prompting him to continue. “But then I saw you in your bed, unwashed and with the biggest circles under your eyes; it just didn’t seem like the right moment.”

“Well, I am better now and I want to know.”

Genji smiled. “Let’s get started then!”

After that night, Hanzo made sure to regularly ask Genji about his soulmate, learning that once a month they would listen to calm instrumentals while checking their hearing aid settings, that they sometimes listened to music closer to Genji’s tastes, and that one time they had spent a day listening to musical pieces from different periods in chronological order.

“They seem to have a very curious nature,” Genji said over dinner. “Although I’ve never heard them sing or hum anything so it’s a bit weird.”

“Maybe they simply cannot speak,” Hanzo answered.

Genji shrugged it off, asking him about his own soulmate instead. “Do they still practice?”

“Yes.” Hanzo smiled. “They practice every day though they are still very far from how good they used to be. I wonder if they broke an arm.”

“You said they’ve been practicing for, what, a month?”

“A month and 28 days, actually.”

Genji laughed. “You have it so bad, brother! And you haven’t even met them!!!”

Hanzo smacked the back of his head, laughing. It felt so good to be close to his brother. They had never spent much time together as kids, mostly because of the language barrier.

Genji waved at him to get his attention before signing, “Did you make up your mind about the art gallery's offer?”

“I think I will accept it, although I will ask them if they can wait until I have a more… joyful piece to offer. If my soulmate lives in the area, I don’t want them to think I am gloomy.”

“I don’t think they live in the area; from what you’ve told me, they sing way too many country songs.” He laughed but put a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, brother. We’ll find them.”

As time passed, more and more art galleries called Hanzo -they even had to buy a device that could translate the audio into text- to ask if they could exhibit and sell a few of his paintings. Hanzo accepted every offer except when a deal wasn’t good enough, wanting nothing more than to become famous enough that his soulmate would one day see his paintings.

He still taught sign language classes but not as many. Now that he was becoming famous, he no longer needed the money, but he didn’t want to let it go completely as he’d found that he actually liked to teach.

One day, an association called him to ask if he could give art classes to hearing-impaired and mute teenagers and children, to which he immediately agreed because he knew how hard it could be to find a capable instructor. Even his family’s wealth hadn’t lured any deaf-friendly art teachers, and he had to learn to read lips before he was finally able to study with a professional.

Two years after Hanzo had settled in San Francisco -and about one year after he started to hear his soulmate again- the music played by the instrument in his head was almost flawless. But then something weird started to happen.

Every day, for a few hours, Hanzo would hear the instrument play a bunch of notes over and over again, testing new combinations and different rhythms before stopping then starting anew. He didn’t really know what was happening, and he guessed that his soulmate had just decided to practice a complicated song, but after a week, lyrics joined in and Hanzo realized: his soulmate was composing a song.

It was a soft melody, the kind that reminded Hanzo of watching snow fall through the window while snuggling under the kotatsu, but also the kind you wouldn’t mind listening to to drown your sorrow. The lyrics were often half-mumbled as his soulmate was still trying to write them, but after another week had passed, Hanzo heard the complete song for the first time.

It talked about silence, how lonely it felt and how they tried to forget it, how they sang to fill in the gaps. But what touched Hanzo the most was the ending.

When I found out after, That sounds could not reach me, Then I realized that maybe, Your silence wasn’t meant to hurt me.

Hanzo felt tears gather at the corner of his eyes -they understood. When they had partially lost their hearing, they had realized. And they composed a song for him about it.

During the following month, Hanzo heard that song a lot. He briefly wondered if his soulmate had recorded it, because most of the time it had exactly the same intonations and tempo, while it tended to be more relaxed and less controlled in the evenings.

Hanzo very rarely had things made for him when he was younger. Sure, his family learned sign language and bought him presents, but no one had ever crafted something just for him. He never had friends outside of the family and didn’t go to school, so he never even got chocolate for Valentine’s day like Genji did.

Having something as precious as a song gifted to him was so inspiring that he painted an entire polyptych of five canvases based on the song. They were the first and only pieces he refused to exhibit or sell, setting them up in his bedroom so that they would be the first and last things he saw every day.

As months passed, his soulmate composed more songs and Hanzo painted more pieces. He became so famous that a museum contacted him to ask if they could organize an exhibition of his works. It took some convincing from Genji, but eventually Hanzo accepted.

When he contacted them, they decided on a date and asked Hanzo if he could come to their city for the grand opening. It took some more convincing, but he eventually agreed. He had never gone very far from San Francisco and never left Hanamura when he still lived there; maybe a trip to a distant city would do him good.

All things considered, the city was nice. It was noisy and polluted, but lacked the chilly wind of San Francisco and the fake traditional look of Hanamura. It was like most US cities Hanzo had seen in photographs, with huge skyscrapers, geometric streets, and big squares.

He wasn’t particularly awed nor disappointed by the city, but they had some pretty interesting museums he wanted to check out. After meeting up with the organizers of his exhibit, he was given a free pass that was good for public transportation and entry to many museums. They informed him that some of his art pieces hadn’t arrived yet but should be there in time for the opening a week later, and asked him if he wanted to take a look and move any pieces around.

After spending a couple of hours in the aisle hosting his exhibit, Hanzo was invited to check out the rest of the museum. One of the organizers stayed with him, talking animatedly about their impressive collection from all over the world. More than once, Hanzo had to ask them to slow down and repeat themselves, but he didn’t mind the company. It was always nice to meet passionate people.

They explained that this particular museum had a big collaboration going with the local music academy, allowing students and teachers to study and handle the museum's collection of musical instruments from various historical eras and cultures, encouraging them to think outside the box. Once a month, a music teacher came to play in the halls so that museum visitors could hear how various instruments sounded and see how they were played. At the end of their visit, the organizer asked Hanzo if he would mind having a little concert at the end of the opening day. A newly-popular singer was in town, having just finished touring.

Hanzo had no reason to refuse; he had never been to a concert and likely would never go to one if not for this opportunity. He assured the organizer that he would be able to enjoy it as long as he was able to feel the vibrations, and that it would be all good as long as they reserved a private spot for him away from the crowd. They thanked him with a big smile and bid him farewell, telling him to enjoy the city before the opening day.

So he did just that, visiting the city’s zoo and many museums, even bringing Genji to one that was dedicated to superheroes around the world. He also ventured out a couple of times to enjoy the local nightlife.

The day before the event, Hanzo went to the laundromat down the street from their hotel. He liked to do his own laundry with his own detergent. The one used by the servants at Shimada castle had always reminded him of his mother too much. Then he moved to America and there was no one else to do it for him anyway, except maybe Genji, but he wouldn’t trust anyone who used the words “laundry” and “Genji” in the same sentence.

They had only been there for a week, but he was amazed to find just how many outfits his younger brother had stained with sweat, drinks, and sauces as he started to separate the bright colors from the light and dark ones, making three neat piles on a bench. He looked around the place, confirming that it was empty before he started humming his soulmate’s latest song to himself. It was one of Hanzo’s favorites even though it didn’t have lyrics yet. It was an upbeat and innocent tune, like a child talking about their crush.

He was unscrewing his bottle of detergent when someone grabbed his arm, almost making him drop it to the floor. He turned and glared at whoever almost made him spill his perfectly fine and expensive bottle only to be met with an equally angry face. The man who had interrupted him said something, but Hanzo was too surprised to really pay attention -what right had this man to shout at him? If anything, he should be the one shouting!

“I do not understand why you are angry at me,” Hanzo said slowly, a hand on his temple to help him speak. “I wasn’t the one rudely interrupting your laundry time.”

The man answered and this time Hanzo tried to follow what he was saying, but the words were spoken too quickly for him to catch, on top of what seemed to be an accent distorting the motion of his lips. Great.

“Could you articulate? I cannot understand a word you are saying.”

The man puffed up like an angry bird, his brows furrowing further. He started talking again and Hanzo tried really hard to focus on his lips, but despite his best efforts, he still couldn’t make out half the words. Something...play dumb...something? Hanzo frowned, did he sound condescending? He leaned back to look at the man’s face, ready to apologize and explain, only to find that the other’s frown was gone, replaced by huge, surprised eyes.

Hanzo took the time to look at the stranger in an attempt to finally understand what was going on. The man had big brown eyes framed by thick eyebrows, and hair so long it would have fallen into his eyes if he hadn’t worn a hat. A cowboy hat of all things; he must be from the desert, then.

Hanzo watched as the man’s full lips shaped into a big, round “Oh.” He must have finally understood that Hanzo was deaf, good. Then why did his expression turn so hopeful? The man then inhaled through his mouth, pursed his lips, and stood there expectantly.

Hanzo heard humming.

As much as he loved his soulmate’s songs, now wasn’t really the moment; he didn’t know what this man wanted with him and the music distracting him wouldn’t help. But then the man started swaying, and as he opened his mouth to take another breath, Hanzo’s eyes went wide.

The man before him was totally in sync with the humming in his head.

Hanzo watched, mesmerized as the stranger did it again and, without thinking, he laid a hand on the man’s chest to feel the vibrations. His soulmate let out a breathy laugh and sang the lyrics softly. For the first time in his life, Hanzo could hear what he was reading on the lips of another human being.

When I found out after, That sounds could not reach me, Then I realized that maybe, Your silence wasn’t meant to hurt me.

His soulmate smiled warmly at him and pointed at his ear, where Hanzo could see a small transparent device. He could already feel the tears spilling all over his cheeks as he choked out a weak, “I know.”

Hanzo felt his soulmate slowly drawing him in for a hug and rubbing soothing circles on his shoulder blades. He held onto him tightly, trying -and failing- to stop staining the man’s plaid shirt with tears. The humming picked back up and Hanzo found himself so comfortable he never wanted this moment to end.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours until the man gently pushed Hanzo away and cupped his cheek, carefully articulating.

“You ok?”

Hanzo wiped his eyes with his palm and nodded with a smile. He didn’t trust himself to speak through the emotional train wreck this meeting turned out to be.

“May I take you out for coffee?”

Hanzo’s smile grew bigger and he nodded again before taking his phone out, opening a new notes sheet and typing, “I don’t think I can focus enough to speak rn, do you know sign language?” He pointed his phone towards his soulmate so he could read the message.

The man looked up from the phone. “Not enough to have a conversation, but I can give you my number.”

Hanzo nodded and opened up his contact information, turning his phone towards his soulmate again. The man entered the number into his own phone, a big smile splitting his face in two. A few seconds later, Hanzo received a text from an unknown number saying, “Hanzo, huh? That’s a pretty name. Mine’s Jesse :)”

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Jesse. I would love to get coffee once I am done cleaning all these shirts,” he typed, hit send and then gestured at the two remaining piles of dirty laundry he came to wash.

Jesse chuckled and nodded, pointing at his own pile of clothes before typing his answer. “Fortunately, I have some cleaning to do myself. How about I keep you company?”

When Hanzo came back to the hotel at the end of the day, Genji immediately jumped on him, asking him what took so long. He grinned, lifted his chin and signed, “I may or may not have met an amazing man whose name is Jesse McCree.”

“Jesse McCree… The singer?” Genji signed and then stopped, his mouth slowly forming a perfect, round O. “HOOOOOOLY SHIT!!! IS YOUR SOULMATE JESSE MCCREE???!” He probably shouted, signing along with his words. “Hanzo, that’s amazing! They were talking about him on TV just yesterday!!”

“They also talked about me on TV,” he pouted.

“Hanzo, please. They only mentioned you once in passing because of the exhibit. This guy just finished a tour on the West Coast!” Genji slid a hand through his hair, the movement of his shoulders indicating a sigh. “I cannot believe your soulmate is a popular singer, I always thought you’d end up with one of those hobos who thinks they're cool because they wear dreadlocks and walk barefoot.”

“Wow, thanks, Genji,” Hanzo signed, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “I never thought your soulmate would be a disappointment, but I am starting to believe they could very well be an old uni teacher.”

“Now you’re just being mean.”

Hanzo crossed his arms and raised a brow, his face the perfect picture of “Oh, really?”

“Alright, I deserved it. Now tell me! How did you meet? How was he? Does he really dress like that unironically?”

“I will tell you everything, but dinner first, if you don’t mind.”

The next day, Genji insisted on being there for the grand opening of Hanzo’s exhibit, bragging to every single person he met that he had been the first one in their family to believe his brother had a real talent for art, making Hanzo’s eyes roll.

A few people recognized him and stopped to chat, with Genji helping translate when they spoke too fast. It was nice to hear which paintings they liked most, or which technique they preferred. A lot of them were art students, and a few others were hearing-impaired or deaf. He was surprised when an old Japanese man stopped by to tell him that he had been following Hanzo’s career ever since he won his first artistic contest in Hanamura.

He told Hanzo that he had been a member of the jury, and that he hadn’t known he was a Shimada until he showed up to claim his prize flanked by four bodyguards. He also told him how relieved he had been when he saw Hanzo’s huge smile and his brother loudly clapping to congratulate him, that he thought they were good kids then.

When the old man excused himself so that he could continue looking at the pieces displayed, Hanzo gave his most respectful bow and thanked him for taking the time to come over and chat. In the corner of his eye, he saw Genji do the same.

Around lunch time, Hanzo felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He fished it out and let a happy sigh escape him when he saw a text from Jesse.

“Hey! Organizers said I need to be there around 3pm, wanna grab lunch in the area? :)”

“Sure, do you have a place in mind? We’ll join you there.”

“We? You are full of secrets, Mister Shimada ✨” Hanzo laughed and had already started replying when a new text arrived. “How does Bacon Bros. Diner sound? It’s on 5th”

“What kind of name is that? :’) I can’t stop laughing, people are looking at me.”

“Just two bros having dinner. 5 feet apart because they’re not gay :^D”

“Except we’re gay”

“We’ll just have to eat only one foot apart then!”

Hanzo snickered and quickly typed his answer. “Perfect, meet you there in 15 minutes?”

“Sounds good to me! Can’t wait to see you again ♥”

Genji was almost more excited about the lunch date than Hanzo. When confronted about it, he pretended it was because he wanted to meet someone famous, but Hanzo knew him too well to believe that. Genji wasn’t exactly what he would call a “fan” of Jesse’s songs, being more into kpop, and Hanzo knew his brother had met his share of famous people back in Hanamura.

Lunch went well. Jesse and Genji got along pretty well despite a few embarrassing questions about each other’s fashion choices, and soon they were walking back towards the museum. A few people stopped them on the street, asking if they could take a picture with Jesse. A couple of them also inquired about Hanzo and Genji, but Jesse just put a finger to his lips and said it was a secret they could find hints about at the museum.

They arrived an hour and a half before Jesse had to be present for the last adjustments, so Hanzo invited him to check out the exhibition. The first pieces were sketches and studies from when he was a child. He explained that back when Genji didn’t know sign language very well, he found it easier to express himself through art, and that it was also an entertaining way to pass the time. In turn, Jesse told him a bit about his own childhood and how his mom always told him that music was important because it was his only link with his soulmate. He joked about not being very good at anything besides singing, and Hanzo assured him that he would be the judge of that.

Then they moved on to the paintings he did when he’d thought it would be nice if, when he met his soulmate, he could have something to give them the same way they gave him their comforting music. Jesse put a hand over his heart then and mimed being struck by Cupid, but Hanzo could tell he was genuinely touched.

As they kept walking through the exhibition, the pieces grew colder. Hanzo explained that he painted them around the time Jesse stopped playing the guitar -he was so happy he could finally give a name to that instrument- and sang his sad acapellas. Jesse explained that he stopped playing after his mother died, and that he got into trouble a lot in those days. He didn’t go into much detail, but it was clear Jesse was ashamed of that time period. It was okay though, they would have a lot of time to talk about it after they knew each other better.

Soon, they reached the warm sunsets and soft ambiance paintings Hanzo did when he started having his work exhibited in Japan. He turned to Jesse expectantly and the man explained that after a lot of trouble, one man saw potential in him and plucked his sorry ass out of the desert dirt. It wasn’t quite the freedom he craved, but things were getting better for him. The man who saw potential in him found out he could play the guitar and encouraged him to pick it back up. Hanzo also learned that around that time Jesse joined the army.

“I just didn’t wanna be no trouble to him, especially after all he did for me. I never finished school so there wasn’t much else I could do anyway,” he said sheepishly.

Hanzo hummed, probably too loudly. “I can relate to that.”

They walked into another room then, and Jesse froze only a few steps in. The room displayed all of Hanzo’s misty and darker paintings. They were a testament to his mastery in his field, but they all held an engulfing sadness that always made him shiver. He looked up at Jesse’s face, the perfect picture of shock and hurt. Hanzo’s eyes were fixed on the man next to him, who touched the tiny transparent device in his ear.

“Are those-”

“From when I noticed the music was becoming weaker? Yes.”

They didn’t linger in that room for long, too many dark memories for the both of them. Again, there would be time for that later.

They exited into a hall displaying the few pieces Hanzo drew when he moved to San Francisco. He told Jesse that Genji was the one to insist they move to America, and that those were hard times for him but the distance between himself and the rest of his family had done him good. He talked about how he started to teach sign language for a living and how he managed to get his life back in order.

He stopped in front of the last painting. “I thought you were dead,” he said.

“I’m sorry, Hanzo, I didn’t want this. I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know.” He smiled before facing Jesse. “The day I finally heard you again, I was in the middle of a class. My students were practicing and I was watching over them like I always do. At some point, I noticed that a few of them had stopped conversing and were looking at me. They said I was humming.”

When Hanzo noticed the tears gathering at the corner of Jesse’s eyes, he gave him a side hug and patted his back. He felt the other lean into him so he kept his arm wrapped around Jesse as they walked all the way to the last room.

It was by far the largest of the entire exhibit, showcasing big polyptychs with bright colors. Hanzo stopped in front of each piece inspired by one of Jesse’s songs and tried to explain which song it belonged to. At one point, he tried to hum the melody instead but since Jesse was right next to him, he could hear himself and it just freaked him out too much.

“One more thing we’ll have time to work on,” Jesse joked, turning towards the next painting. “I was touched when you told me the paintings were based on the music you could hear from me, but these,” he paused, his shoulders moving along with a deep breath, “these are based on things I created. The songs I compose are mighty personal and I have no words to tell you how touched I am.”

“Did you notice? The set of paintings I made for the first song you composed for me are not in this room.”

Jesse paused and looked around, then back at Hanzo. “Where are they, then? Is there some kind of secret room we missed?”

Hanzo smirked. “Come over to my house in San Francisco and I will gladly show them to you. They are way too precious for me to trust anyone touching them.”

Jesse took off his hat and placed it over his heart, looking Hanzo straight in the eyes. “I think my heart just stopped.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon by an improvised stage outside. Jesse explained a few music things to Hanzo and showed him around behind the scenes. At one point, he convinced Hanzo to try playing the guitar. It was awful, his big fingers stumbling over unfamiliar chords. He didn’t know whether he was more frustrated or exhilarated that he was able to hear every single one of his mistakes.

About an hour before the concert, Hanzo was called to his VIP spot where the organizers had left a small bench with a sandwich and a water bottle for him. He was soon joined by Genji who had bought a bag of muffins for the two of them. Of course, his little brother asked to know every single detail of his and Jesse’s “date,” which Hanzo was all too happy to talk about.

A few minutes before the show, Genji joined the crowd, proclaiming that concerts were only good when you could smell everyone’s armpits and feel all those sweaty bodies pressed close to the stage. When Hanzo remarked that it sounded pretty gross, Genji shrugged and signed, “It’s half the charm,” with a toothy grin.

When Jesse arrived on stage and all the people started waving their arms, Hanzo moved his bench to get a little closer. He could see Jesse approach the microphone while clumsily signing, “Tonight is special. The man who paint are in this museum is deaf. I question his brother to sign along the lyrics of my songs.” Hanzo’s eyes widened as Genji jumped on stage and bowed, taking the signing over.

It had always been something to hear Jesse sing inside his head, but it was something entirely different to experience it live. Hanzo had a blast, not only listening to the music but also feeling the vibrations of it, making him feel like he was melting into the music, like he was part of the songs.

After the last song, Jesse leaned in to the microphone again and Hanzo looked to Genji for translation.

“I hope you had a blast tonight because I dedicate this concert to my soulmate, whose paintings are exhibited in this museum starting today!” Both the man on stage and the people in the crowd turned towards him. “Hanzo, darling, I am proud to be your soulmate,” Jesse signed as he spoke.

Hanzo rushed up and jumped onto the stage as fast as he could, throwing himself into Jesse’s arms. Their first kiss was captured by hundreds of cameras as they held each other on stage, but they didn’t care. They were finally united, happy.

#mchanzo #hancree #overwatch #jesse mccree #hanzo shimada #genji shimada #brothers bounding #Genji is a little shit #Deaf Hanzo #Singer McCree #Artist Hanzo #Soulmates AU #ecchima writes #Hanzo POV #I don't even know what to add #Sojiro loves his sons #fanfic

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