#learnt my lesson of not making fun of my ocs
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Ig now that I've been somewhat active on here today is time I stop gatekeeping(?) some of my recent drawings lolol
Bonus of me calling one of my ocs bald while sketching his trauma
(I got my karma and lost the half page I had drawn-)
#tbh i dont remember which drawings I posted on here oop-#fanart#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd chuuya#bsd dazai#skk#motherfucking N from Stormbringer#bsd kunikida#bsd sasaki#bsd chapter 109#a bit of one of my ocs after the cut#learnt my lesson of not making fun of my ocs#i technically didn't loose the page completely cuz I have a screenshot#but still would need to redraw it completely#and there was a frame(?) that was literally my fav#also rare occasion of me drawing on computer#im scared of ppl who can draw w mouse#imma stick w drawing w my finger tbf
11 notes
·
View notes
Note
6, 12, and 14 !!
- 🐇
6 — how much of someone’s life do you want to control ? what aspects of it ?
Preferably, most of it. If I could, I would control the way my Anne dressed, whether she could go out, etc. etc. Though, I’d let her wear her casuals as well, and perhaps I may even go on shopong sprees to fill up her personal box. But other than that, I want her under surveillance at all times.
I suppose I want to control her mind most. Actions and words all stem from thoughts. And all thoughts come from beliefs, which all come from the brain. It’d be fun to tinker with her little brain a bit. I’d say I’d warp it so that she loves me eternally, though that already seems to be the case.
12 — what’s an object you can’t live without ?
A hard question… hmm…
I’d say any electronic device I can get a hold on. I know… the answer isn’t all that uncommon for a teenager such as I, but the truth is, many of my close friends are online. Also, I find it MUCH easier to interact with others online than in real life. And after all, if it weren’t for the internet. This graveyard wouldn’t exist~!
(Also, I only talk to Anne online. So cutting off all internet means cutting off our relationship completely..)
14 — consider this a free pass to ramble about your darling or partner :)
Did you know that Anne loves Red Dead Redemption? Her favourite installment is the first one, the one that tells of John Martson; it’s actually her favourite character. I won’t spoil much, but she has told me all of the story. I think I could tell it off the top of my head, but anyways… She has learnt many lessons from the game; about life and morality, two black and white things that have boundless amounts of grey areas. She learnt that bad things should only be done to bad people.
I actually made a gacha OC of a persona of her as an outlaw; purple vest and all. I love making OCs of her… She’s like my muse.
Anywho, I’m pretty sure she’s enamoured with RDD’s protagonist. And it shows! Her profile picture used to be John Martson, I would think that every time she changed her profile picture was a new era for us as a couple. Silly, I know.
All in all, Anne loves cowboys, and I love her.
#// 💌 — the graveyard mailbox#// 🐇 anon#ask game#yandere ask game#yandere anon#vampire#vampires#lovesick#prince#yandere#royalty#graveyard#god complex#love
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
SKYRIM OCS ASKS!
Please pick three or four of your favorites on here and ask Hlas to answer them in his voice. :>
Ah yes Seryn Hlas, great trainee to the Redoran guard. Best known for being the victim of identity theft whilst on his own bender. Now he follows the guy who did it around like a lost puppy. He thinks he can learn things from him, he's putting his trust in the wrong guy. This guy is answering your questions on a province he's only heard about from sailors at the Netch, the chick that arrived with them and his very, very reluctant mentor's highly exaggerated stories. 9. Do they believe in snow/sky whales?
*Chewing on a piece of scrib jerky.* What's that meant to be? Some sort of fish? Imagine that, flying fish! Hairy Nords, giant hairy people with giant hairy guar and flying fucking fish! And people actually live there? S'wits are not ok. 14. Who is their mentor? Who do they go to most for lessons?
It's meant to be Modyn Veleth, he's my boss after all but I haven't learnt shit from him! Nothing fun anyway. If you want to be up before sunrise every day and run drills to protect a crumbling backwater of a town with zero prospects outside a single mine...he's your guy. I just haven't gotten much out of it. You ever talk to that guy at the Netch who's dressed entirely in chitin? Now that guy could teach you a thing or two. Bought me four rounds and taught me this.
*summons a flame atronoch the size of a child's doll, it floats in stasis before a loud crack reverberates throughout the room, the tiny daedra disintegrates into magical ash.* Pretty cool right! Now if only I could make it bigger! Might ask him about that. 20. Can they read? Yes...who said I couldn't? Was it Savel? I tell you who can't read? That s'wit!
#asks#stuff from the mind of Seryn Hlas#dunmer#Redoran Guard#another riekling behaved dunmer but with more DUMB and less Calculating
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Verse-less OC?
More likely than you think. Wanted to post something here, and nothing better like what was written in my notes for a long while. How about a little introduction to change things up a bit?
(Picrew used for this design: https://picrew.me/image_maker/4893 )
"I felt it.
The heavy hand's impact onto my cheek, making my frail body jerk violently as I innevitably smash against the wall with my back. The temple certainly made it seem like it was going to demolished from such a vicious trashing. The pain I endured at that moment made my body freeze, blood began to dribble from my mouth and my anguished groans I could not contain. On my knees, I stubbornly attempted to stand up, deluding myself that it wasn't over. But the eyes which set on me knew that I was too mangled and broken to stand up. The time we spent fighting was already long overdue, and I never made any progress. It was pitiful. There was no fun on a toy you can't play with. One which would crumble with a mere touch. Just like those times he manipulated my innocent, foolish self, he was in full control of the situation. The armor he wore was something I was supposed to protect. A sacred treasure with an immeasurable power which no Priestress should be handing out so freely. I botched this opportunity, this honor, just to ruin everything with a few loving words. Pathetic. Foolish. Unworthy. As much as he ridiculed me, I could not stop condemning myself. How could I not see it? He had me on his palm and used me to his whim! The fireworks which once made my heart feel a burning sensation of happiness ignite into scorching flames of sorrow to this day... Eventually, I heard another voice coming from the room, only filling a wounded heart like mine with guilt. Shocked, I watched one of us - Another Priesteess like me - come to face the thief. She didn't have to step in to save me, but to perform this miracle, to stop this madman wearing the one thing which brings mortals closer to the power of gods, she did the only thing she could do. That voice sang a beautiful melody which engulfed the world around us with a tint of her light, her aura, that began to dissappear completely from what I could sense at that moment. Almost as if she ceased to exist, the harmony would be the only sound we could hear. When the fellow Arpiah approached the man, the melody was about to finish. He was unnable to move, as the woman gave him a gentle smile, before wounds would start to open and a crimson liquid began to pour out from both of them. In a blink, a violent burst would make the room shake. Next thing I know, I find myself within the rubble of an entire place crumbled apart.
My false lover would be then in a crater, lifeless, and with the armor I swore to protect torn apart into pieces. The maiden, meanwhile, collapsed onto the ground, giving her last breaths as a pool of red would begin to form beneath her. And yet despite all of this, the woman remained with a smile...
To this day I question if I could've done something. And only then it would all settle in, only then I would wind up truly alone. One to be the unjust survivor of this crisis. One to be scolded for my insurrection. One to carry the burden of repairing the Celestial Armor. If I payed attention to the teachings of the felled Priestess, perhaps I would've learnt to use this devastating move, unique to our race. But that would mean I would have to throw my life away. The Arpiah's very own Tremor Melody is a requiem of death, so they say. For the first time, I saw what they ment. Every drop of spiritual essence exhausted to force the user and their enemy to be ripped apart from within as that aura bursts violently.
I had no interest in selfless sacrifices. I didn't intend to leave my duties to no one - There won't be no one to trust. I am going to show them all that I've learned my lesson. I am out for myself and myself only. I am a Priestress, I can act like one, I can take care of myself, and most certainly, I won't fall for the same trick twice! I have a mission. One that I must complete. There's no other use for a broken heart like mine..."
Name: Meteora
One of the youthful Priestress who were chosen to protect the coveted treasure of the island of Arpiah, the Celestial Armor, said to constantly replenish the spiritual energy of the wielder as well as increase their strength to that of a deity's reach.
Normally, the high and mighty Meteora would pride herself on meeting the expectations as its caretaker. However, the maiden had fallen in love helplessly with a manipulative thief who sought to steal said relic. Miracolously, they were interrupted before he took the armor away from the island, but the events led to it's complete destruction, and now Meteora, crushed by the experience and taking responsability for allowing this to happen, must seek the means to repairing it as well as the sweeter piece of her heart she refuses to show beneath her bitterness.
#oc#verseless#original character#oc wip#writing#need to expand on#brainrot#I'm sorry I gave her trauma
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hi everyone! So this was my first time taking part in the @osemanversebigbang but I had so much fun!! I can't wait to read everyone's entries! 💜
Title: Angel Rahimi And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Lunch Break
Characters: Angel, Juliet, Rowan, Jimmy, Lister, Bliss, two of Angel’s future uni friends (OCs).
Spoilers? Minor spoilers of important events in “I Was Born For This”.
Word Count: 3.6k
Ships: Bicci, one joke about Juliet/Rowan.
~Joan of Arc (Probably)
“I am so fucking tired”
“Right, time’s up, put your pens down.” The exam officer says from the front of the room. I scribble one last sentence before my hand gives out, and I all but throw my pen onto the desk, sighing as dramatically as I can. This week is a fucking nightmare. Exams and assignments are the piss. Fuck uni, I’m ready to drop out. Or drop dead. Either works, honestly.
As I leave the exam hall, I walk past some people from the students’ union. They’re handing out flyers for the Christmas ball next week. My housemates are all planning on going, but my friends and I planned our present swap for that night, so we’re going to spend it eating a fuck ton of snacks and watching the cheesiest Christmas films we can find. I can’t wait, I bought them each a bag of their favourite sweets from the American candy shop, it's going to be so much fun!
But that’s next week. Right now, all I want is to sit at a table that doesn’t have an exam paper on it, and eat something very greasy and very unhealthy. There’s a pizza place just on the edge of campus, run by some of the culinary arts students, and they make the best sauce ever. It’s pretty cheap too, which makes it a favourite for most people, especially at the end of a semester, when everyone’s bank accounts are running low.
I have about an hour until I need to be back in the exam hall, so I take full advantage of the outdoor seating and collapse into a chair after ordering. My pizza is brought out to me not long after, and I breathe in the smell. Nothing has smelt more gorgeous than the slices sitting in front of me. It’s a surprisingly warm day, for December at least, and for a moment, everything feels calm. I can hear a bird singing in a tree somewhere, other students are hanging around campus, most with their noses in their phones or in textbooks, and I actually let myself relax for a bit. I’ve done all the revision I can for this next exam, and I’m in desperate need of a break. I deserve this.
I pick up my first slice of pizza, and bring it up to my mouth. As I’m about to take a bite, however, my phone rings. I put the pizza down with a sigh and answer the phone without looking at who’s calling. Mum probably sensed I wasn’t doing any work, and is calling to check up on me.
“Hello?” I say tiredly.
“Angel, hi! Is this a good time??” I grin at the sound of Juliet’s voice.
“Hell yeah, it’s a perfect time! What’s up?”
“Wait, you don’t know why I’m calling?” Juliet says hesitantly. Shit. What have I forgotten now? I know it’s not her birthday. Wait, is it mine?? I swear exams rot your brain, have I actually forgotten my own birthday?
“No…?” I ask after internally monologuing for way too long.
“Oh my god, you don’t know??” Juliet screeches in my ear, “Angel go look at your phone, it’s urgent!”
Now very concerned, I put Juliet on speaker and, for the first time all morning, actually read the notifications filling my lock screen. I open the Twitter news one, and my mouth drops open in shock.
“Holy shit.”
On my screen is a news article with a headline that reads, “THE ARK’S JIMMY KAGA-RICCI AND LISTER BIRD’S SECRET RELATIONSHIP EXPOSED”, and just below it sits a large photo of Jimmy and Lister, standing outside a pub, kissing. I don’t believe it.
“Holy fu- Hold on a second. Mate, isn’t that the pub by Piero’s house?!” I say, bringing my phone as close to my face as I can, as if that’ll help me see better. There’s a loud shuffling noise on the other end of the line, and then I hear a gasp.
“Oh my god, you’re right!” Juliet says. “Rowan said they were going on holiday, but I thought he meant abroad or something.” I smile at that. Ever since our little jaunt to Kent last summer, Juliet and I have kept in touch with the boys. We even have a group chat now; us and them and even Bliss is in it. I’m so glad we stayed friends.
At first, Rowan was really quiet, and if he did speak he and Juliet would almost always end up arguing, but they’ve been getting along quite well lately. I’m not saying I ship it or anything, I’ve learnt my lesson there, but I have to say, fangirl-to enemies-to lovers would make a wicked fanfiction trope.
“Did you see any of this coming?” Juliet continues. “Surely Jimmy would have said something to you?”
“He said he was dating someone, but didn’t want to give details because they were taking things slow. Well, that and that celebrity phone hacking scandal freaked him right the fuck out, remember?” I say.
"That's
right, he stopped talking on the group chat for like two weeks, didn’t he?” Juliet giggles back. “Well, nevertheless, I’m happy for them. They’re cute together.”
“Yeah, they are.” I grin again. “Oh my god, poor Rowan though! I’d hate to live with a couple, especially a new one! It’d be nauseating.”
“Oh I know, right? And imagine what’ll happen when they have their first fight!” Juliet gasps again. I shudder at the thought.
“I’m muting the group chat when that happens.” I joke.
“Not a bad idea.” Juliet laughs back, then pauses. “Oh, Angel, I’m sorry I’ve got the get going, but do you want to skype later?”
“Yeah, no problem! I’ve got a revision session at 6, but I should be free by 9ish?”
“Sounds perfect! See you then!” Juliet says, and with that, she’s gone, and I’m back to sitting alone with my pizza.
Jimmy and Lister. Holy shit. I don’t think anyone in the fandom saw this coming. Everything has been about Jowan, since the fandom started growing it’s the only ship that ever existed. No one bothered writing fics about any other pairings. The only Jimmy/Lister fics I ever came across were platonic ones, and even they made sure to mention Jimmy’s boyfriend Rowan.
Oh god, I hope they’re okay. The fans got so crazy when Bliss and Rowan’s relationship was exposed. Jimmy/Lister is the final nail in the Jowan coffin. Jimmy must be having the panic attack of his life! I’ve got to-
My phone rings again.
I look down at the screen, and see Jimmy’s name. I take a deep breath, and answer.
“Jimmy, hi! How are-”
“Have you seen it??”
“Yes.”
“Oh god. This isn’t how we wanted to tell you guys.”
“You sure? Because getting caught by the national press worked so well for you last time.” I tease. Silence. Oops, probably not the best thing to remind him of right now.
“Jimmy, you still there?” I say carefully. There’s a slight rustle on his end, which means he probably just nodded. “Everything is going to be fine, I promise. The fans will move on. They already did with Jowan, right?”
“But what if something happens again? Something like-”
“It won’t. You guys have better security now, and you’re doing less public events. You’re going to be fine.” I hope and pray that I’m saying the right things. Jimmy and I have gotten close lately, but I’m nowhere near as good at helping him deal with his anxiety as Rowan and Lister are. There’s more silence, until finally, Jimmy speaks again.
“Okay. Yeah. Yeah I think you’re right. Thanks, Angel.”
“Course I’m right! If there’s one thing I know, it’s fandom drama.” Jimmy laughs, and I grin back. “And don’t forget, you’re not alone in this. This is happening to Lister too, and no doubt Rowan and Bliss will be there to help you. Just talk to them.”
“Thank you Angel, I’ll go do that now.”
“Perfect! Love you Jim, I’ll text you later.” I say, and the call ends.
He’ll be okay. He’s got too many people who love him not to be. I take another breath and put my phone down on the table. As soon as I do, however, it buzzes again, and I see Jimmy is trying to facetime me. Now very concerned, I answer it and hold the phone up so he can see my face properly.
“Jimmy, are you okay, what’s happened??” I ask anxiously, but he looks fine. He looks at me with a confused expression.
“Nothing, I’m just talking to the others, like you said.” He says. It’s only me and him on the call. I stare at him in silence for a moment.
“Jimmy, mate… I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not any of them” I say slowly, and to my surprise, Jimmy laughs.
“Yeah I know, but I was kind of hoping to have you here, too, if that’s okay?” He says sheepishly. “It’s okay if you’re busy, it’s just that… I don’t know, you’re good with this stuff and you make me feel calm? Sorry, I know that’s a lot to just dump on you.” Jimmy doesn’t look at me directly, and I start to feel tears in my eyes.
“Well damn, Jim, I guess if you truly love me that much, I can stick around for a bit.” I laugh, and quickly glance at the time. “My lunch break is only halfway over, anyway, so I have plenty of time to hang out while you talk to the others.”
Jimmy seems to let out a breath, like he’d been holding it, and grins.
Just as I’m about to start talking again, I hear a ping, and Lister’s face appears on screen, followed by Rowan and Bliss.
“Hey Jimjam, you okay?” Rowan asks, looking as calm as ever. “Oh hey Angel.” He adds. I give him an awkward smile.
“Wait, Angel's here?” Bliss interrupts before Jimmy can answer. “Nice, how’s the week from hell going? Didn’t think we’d hear from you until you’d made it through.”
“Yeah it’s rough, but I’m getting there. This is a welcome distraction though.” I grin at her.
“So you’ve seen the pictures then. They look good, right?” Lister chimes in, before correcting himself. “I mean, it’s horrible they found us, fucking pricks, but you’ve got to admit we look good.”
“You can be so self-centred sometimes.” Bliss laughs.
“Come on Lister, this isn’t a joke.” Rowan chides him.
“Well, I guess he isn’t wrong..” Jimmy mumbles nervously and I see him smile a bit.
“See, Jimmy agrees with me!” Lister argues back at Rowan, who rolls his eyes.
“It’s still not something to laugh about.” Rowan says firmly. “Cecily’s already on damage control, cancelling some events, beefing up the security at others, and giving the tabloids hell. She’s also let your grandad know, Jimmy.”
“Wait, aren’t you guys all down there already?” I ask, confused.
“Nah we got back last night. That picture was taken when we went out for lunch the other day. Took their time printing it.” Lister says.
“Probably needed time to pad out their articles. Seriously, how can they write so many pages about two people dating?” Bliss adds.
“Probably whining about how Jowan is now well and truly dead.” Rowan rolls his eyes again. “Although I have to say, I’m pretty happy about that part.” I cringe slightly as he says that. I will never not regret being one of the Jowan fangirls.
“So Cecily’s already got a plan? That’s good, that’s a bit of a relief.” Jimmy speaks up, looking visibly more relaxed than he had sounded over the phone earlier.
“Yeah she’s got it sorted, so we can start planning our Christmas party!” Lister says, making the others groan.
“Lister what the hell makes you think we should be throwing a massive fucking party right now?!” Rowan says, his voice growing louder. Lister goes quiet, looking like he wants to shrink into his seat, before eventually speaking up again.
“Look, it doesn’t have to be anything big, I just mean… Angel, you’re gonna be in London with Juliet, right? Come over, drag Bliss with you, Jimmy can invite his grandad, Rowan you can bring Jade, and there you go, that’s our party!”
“That’s...actually a good idea.” Rowan says, surprised.
“Yeah, that sounds like fun!” Jimmy adds.
“I’m up for it, Angel, do you think Juliet will wanna come?” Bliss says.
“Hell yeah she would, let’s do it!” I reply with a massive smile on my face. Partying with Bliss and the boys sounds like the best way to spend my Christmas London trip. I’ll make sure to tell Juliet about it when I talk to her later. As I start planning all the food I’m going to bring over, and wondering what the boys’ flat will look like at Christmas, the conversation starts up again.
“You sure you’re doing alright, Jimmy? I can come back home if you need me to.” Rowan says, focusing things on the issue at hand again.
“No no, don’t worry, stay with your family. They’d kill me if I made you miss out on spending time with them.” Jimmy jokes. “I’ve got Lister here, and Cecily’s number if I need it. My head isn’t giving me too much grief right now, anyway.”
“Wait, Lister, you’re there with him?” Bliss asks.
“Yeah, check it out!” Lister says, before picking up his phone and moving. He takes us out of what I think was his room, through a hallway and comes out into a large living room, where we can see Jimmy on a sofa looking at his phone. “Say hi to the chat, Jim!”
Everyone laughs as Jimmy gives an awkward wave to Lister’s phone. Lister then hangs up and launches himself into view of Jimmy’s screen, and the two shuffle about until they’re practically sitting on top of each other, faces
squished together so the tiny phone camera captures them both. I hate how cute they look together.
“Alright, if you’re sure, Jimmy,” Rowan says, smiling for probably the first time this whole call.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Jimmy smiles back. “This whole situation is terrifying, and I’m more than ready to hide in my room and not see another mad fangirl for the rest of my life, but... if I did that we’d never get to hang out with Angel again.” He finishes, biting his lip as if unsure of whether or not the joke will hit.
“Uh..ouch!” I clap my hand on top of my heart dramatically and laugh, while the others join in. “I’ll have you know I’ve abandoned my fangirl ways. Mostly. Sort of. Okay, not completely but I’m not shipping real people anymore, so that’s something, right?!”
Lister is giving Jimmy a look of what I can only assume is pride for making a decent joke during a time of peak anxiety, Rowan has his head in his hands, probably contemplating his life choices now that Lister seems to be rubbing off on Jimmy, and Bliss still looks shocked that such a joke came out of Jimmy’s mouth, not Lister’s. When things calm down again, I check the time and speak up again.
“Well this has been fun Jim, but I’m afraid I have mad fangirl duties to be getting back to. Shrines to build, fanfiction to write, you know how it is.” I say sarcastically.
“Thanks again, Angel, for being here, and listening. And you’d better be right about that fandom drama.” Jimmy laughs again, although this time I see his smile falter a bit.
“Hey, look at me,” I say, moving as close to the screen as I can without squishing my face on it. “Things will settle down before you know it, in the meantime, we’re all here for you. You’re not alone in this.” Rowan and Bliss nod in agreement, and I see Lister hug Jimmy closer. Jimmy takes a breath and nods as well.
“Thanks Angel. And good luck with your exam. We’ll see you over the holidays.” He smiles.
“Yeah you got this Angel, go smash it!” Bliss chimes in, giving me a thumbs up and a grin. I say one last goodbye to them all, and hang up.
I look back down at my pizza, still uneaten. I need to stop letting myself get distracted during phone calls. I can eat and talk to my friends at the same time. I’m usually a master at it.
“Fereshteh!” I look up again. Either I’m going loony, or someone just said-
“FERESHTEH!” I turn around and see Mollie and Christina barrelling towards me, with the most excitement I’ve ever seen on a students’ face during exam season. They crash into my table and both start talking at once.
“Have you seen??”
“Did you know??”
“How long have they been together?!”
“Oh my god is this why you won’t tell us about what happened in Kent?!”
“Woah, easy on the interrogation! Seriously, you guys need to work on your interview skills.” I put my hands up in surrender and laugh. Mollie rolls her eyes at me.
“So? Did they tell you or what?” She asks again. I roll my eyes back at her.
“You know I don’t want to tell you guys anything about the boys. They trust me, and I’m not going to fuck that up because of some shit a tabloid prints.”
“How dare you appeal to our morality and ethics, we want gossip dammit!” Christina giggles, lightly banging her fist down on the table.
“Then stick to the Twitter pages.” I stick my tongue out at her. Mollie and Christina are two of my housemates, and are part of the Ark fandom. I never planned on telling them about Kent, but they figured out who I was thanks to the pictures of me and Jimmy on the train. I didn’t think you could tell it was me, but fangirls are like master detectives. They figured it out in less than a week. They haven’t told anyone though, they’re good mates.
“So how are you feeling about all of this? Whether you knew or not, having it out in the press like this is a lot to handle, especially after last time.” Mollie says, now in serious mode.
“It is a lot, definitely, but they’ll be fine. They’ve had this happen before and they know what to expect from the fans. I just wish I could be there for them.” I say, sitting back in my chair.
“I get
that, it must suck that you guys are so far apart now.” Christina chimes in.
“I mean it’s not like we ever lived close to each other before. The only reason we even crossed paths over the summer was because I was staying with a friend. But yeah, being away from them all is kind of hard sometimes.” I sigh dramatically, making Mollie and Christina grin.
“Are you going to visit them over Christmas?” Christina asks.
“I’m definitely going to visit my friend in London again, for a day or two, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to see the boys.” I quickly lie. “They cut back on public events but they’re still really busy most of the time. And this,” I gesture to my phone “definitely won’t help.”
“We’ll keep an eye on fandom updates for you, and try to shut any mentions of Jowan down,” Mollie says, reaching across the table and giving my hand a gentle squeeze. I squeeze hers back and give her a grateful smile. I mostly stopped interacting with the fandom after meeting the boys, reading fanfiction, and discussing theories with other fans just feels weird and creepy to do when the people you’re talking about are your friends. So it’s nice that I have Mollie and Christina looking out for them, and doing what I can’t. Christina has a pretty big following on Tumblr, and Mollie’s a Twitter ace, so I trust them to hold their ground with the fandom.
“Okay, you don’t have to give us any details, but genuinely, what do you think of Lister and Jimmy as a couple? Because I don’t think the fandom could handle a breakup.” Christina says after a while, making me laugh.
“Pfft, yeah I don’t think the boys could handle a breakup, either.” I smile. “But honestly? I think they’ll be good for each other. Lister is good at helping Jimmy relax and step out of his anxiety bubble, and Jimmy can help reign in Lister’s chaotic energy. Plus they’re freaking cute together, I mean just look at this picture!” I finish, gesturing dramatically to my phone again.
“They are so cute!” Mollie nods in agreement. “I’m actually shocked no one thought to ship them together before.”
“That’s the Jowan storm, for you,” Christina adds. “Can’t believe we ever shipped that.”
“So gross.” I shudder at the thought. Suddenly the alarm I’d set this morning went off, making us all jump.
“What’s that?” Mollie asks. I check the screen and practically leap out of my seat.
“Oh shit, my exam starts in 10 minutes!” I say, gathering my stuff up as quickly as I can. I say my goodbyes to Mollie and Christina and start running back across campus to the exam hall.
I make it just in time, much to the invigilator’s chagrin, check my bag in at the desk at the back of the hall, and collapse into my assigned seat. The exam starts, and it’s only when it does that my stomach reminds me that I never actually ate lunch. Shit.
I start to silently scold myself for being so stupid, when my mind starts drifting to the video chat with Jimmy and the others. He and Lister looked so comfortable with each other. Makes sense, they've known each other for so long. But even still, Jimmy looked so much happier once Lister sat down with him, and Lister himself practically seemed at home with Jimmy’s arms wrapped around him. I smile at my exam paper.
I’m so happy for them.
#osemanverse#i was born for this#iwbft#bicci#angel rahimi#jimmy kaga ricci#lister bird#juliet schwartz#bliss lai
55 notes
·
View notes
Text
❄Christmas Raffle❄
This is a little early, but I learnt my lesson from last year. But I thought I’d do another art raffle for the upcoming Christmas month! Only one winner this year, and I’ll be picking on the first of November (NZ Timezone). Here are the rules on both entering, and what I can draw for the winner. 1. To enter, simply leave a comment/reblog and say you are keen, and I’ll place you on the list that will randomly pick a winner. 2. I will draw up to two characters for you, which can either be a character from one of the fandoms I’m in, or a personal OC of yours. 3. I will not do NSFW stuff, as those make me highly uncomfortable. If you are unsure if the idea in mine relates to this category, feel free to ask. 4. I will do ship pics, but they do have to be sensible ships that don’t contain...certain elements. 5. Do not pester or bribe me to try and win, or else you will be kick from the raffle entirely. 6. Do not be overly demanding if your art piece if you end up being the winner, as I’m still a simple artist and human who’s trying her best. 7. If you have any questions about the art piece or the raffle itself, you are free to ask questions and I will try and respond to them. 8. Let’s just have fun with this, guys! As I really just want to give a gift on Christmas!
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
‘Big Killer Clone’
Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars + Original Character
Collection/Series: N/A
Pairing: Captain Bear (Clone Trooper OC) x GN! Reader
Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long
Rating: T
Warnings: Angst, a senator is a dick to our boy. He’s very unhappy and upset, but there’s a lot of comfort. Swearing, a lot of angst, my friends.
Summary: There is only one person Bear wants to see after a senator makes a comment about him being a danger to the younglings, and that is you.
Notes: Inspired by this comment by @alamogirl80: I bet he specifically requests to work in or near the Jedi temple so he can escort the crèche younglings. And it breaks his big ol heart when certain clone hating senators make comments to the crèche master that it’s dangerous to let a “big killer clone” like him around the kids.
I just picked a random corrupt senator for this.
Mando’a:
Shebs’palon - asshole
Shebs - Ass
Vod - Brother
Archiveofourown
Comment and Feedback Form
Taglist Form
Bear likes working in the Jedi temple, he likes the Jedi themselves. They’re respectful, generally kind and do not treat him as if he is some mindless machine or identical clone without a personality or views of his own. But, what he likes most about working in the temple is that he is almost always put on creche and youngling duty.
It is a well known fact that Bear enjoys working with the little ones, even more so that the little ones enjoy his presence. He has a ‘way’ with them as he’s been told time and time again, something many of his other brothers struggle with. He enjoys being asked to escort the younglings through the temple or to stand watch during their break times between lessons, to make sure they do not get up to mischief or in some cases help them get up to mischief. Some clones complain that it’s glorified babysitting, but he likes babysitting. He’d rather nurture and protect the little ones than fight and kill. It suits him better.
It is fun for him to stand there and smile as the little ones run and play, as they act like children for the few precious moments they are allowed. It warms his heart when little arms wrap around his legs in a hug or the children choose to use him as a living climbing frame. He feels wanted, needed, useful. The children do not balk or shy away from him despite his large size, they are not scared of the scar that covers his left cheek and they do not mind his deep voice. Instead they run to him and call his name and demand he play with them, they like him, and it is in many ways bittersweet.
They are lovely, sweet. They cause a smile to light up his face, and yet, they are a reminder of what he isn’t allowed to have. What he isn’t allowed to have with you. He is a clone trooper, romantic relationships are not allowed. He breaks that rule regularly to be with you. Families, children, aren’t allowed either. A babe would be harder to hide, a family almost impossible and so they remind him of the thing he so desperately wants but is told he cannot have. He hopes...he hopes that one day he can have that, but hopes are not realities.
Still, it is his favourite duty and so he does not expect to leave the jedi temple that day in a foul or unpleasant mood. He expects to be full of life, energy and smiles, after a day of children chattering away at him, drawing new things on his armour and sharing their new tricks with him. He always left the temple in the best mood.
But that shebs’palon of a senator Danry Ledwellow, the Er’Kit, small and blue, had ruined his day. Completely, entirely and only with a passing comment hissed out from behind sharp teeth and a look of distrust and disgust. It didn’t matter that Master Yoda had come to Bear’s defence or that he didn’t care much for the senator at all, the fact remained that his mood had been ruined.
He was used to comments. He was a clone. There were many people that distrusted them, disliked them, and made it clear what they thought whenever they were given the chance. When he was shiny, it had bothered him more, as a cadet he would get angry, frustrated, irritated. As he grew he learnt to shrug it off, that it didn’t matter so much. Once you’d heard one insult, you’d heard them all...or so he thought.
He’d been watching the younglings train when Dandry had made a passing comment with disgust riding his voice to Master Yoda, about how ‘dangerous’ and ‘irresponsible’ it was to have a ‘big killer clone’ like him around such small and defenceless younglings. As if Bear would ever hurt them, as if he could ever be considered a danger to them, as if he knew Bear and knew who he was and what he was capable of.
He had, in the moment, chosen to stare straightforward, to bite his tongue and let the feeling sit inside his chest. His helmet was in place and that helped to hide the anger he was feeling. He was surrounded by little one’s, many under the age of 7 and he refused to give into emotions that would only confirm that senator’s views or scare the little one’s. He left Master Yoda speak in his defence, in truth, barely hearing the words. His mind was cloudy with frustration,fixed on replaying the words ‘dangerous’ and ‘killer’ over in his mind.
The children had noticed a change after that, tugging on his fingers and demanding he sit as they clambered around him and told him stories. They tried to lighten his mood, something he was grateful for but that failed. He pretended for them, although he suspected many did not believe him, their natural intuneness with the force allowing them to sense his mood better than many.
Kal and Delta didn’t ask when he stormed into the barracks intent on putting away his armour and leaving as soon as possible to see you, knowing that you’d find a way to brighten his mood like you always did. It was obvious to the two of them that an angry Bear was best left well enough alone, they didn’t see their captain storming around often. They shared a look, both deciding they didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his shitty mood. Kal returned to cleaning his blaster and Delta pretended to fall asleep in his bunk.
The new kid, Jammy, or Shiny as they’d taken to calling him looked on with trepidation. He’d not been with the squad long, a couple of months, and in that time his Captain had always been smiley and cheerful or neutral at worst. He’d never actually seen him angry, it was...a little intimidating given Bear’s already immense stature. He decided it was best to just not stare at his captain.
Sunny didn’t seem to have the same worries as the rest, “What’s eating you, Cap?” He’d stopped mid way through messing with those vibrant orange curls of his, hand still raised to the top of his head. It was clear to Sunny that his vod wasn’t his usual self, especially considering it was known he’d been working with the younglings that day. He was never in a bad mood after working with the younglings.
“Don’t want to talk about it.” He’s already by his bunk unlatching each piece of his armour and putting it away in his footlocker. He doesn’t want to hang around and the intensity of the stares from his brothers isn’t helping his mood. He’s not usually quick tempered, that’s Kal’s thing. In fact, he rarely finds himself having any sort of outburst, but he can feel it rising in him today. It’s unwelcome, unfamiliar. He doesn’t like how angry he feels. How his mood is changing, shifting. How one stupid senator could change his whole mood just like that. It was stupid. Who cared what a low level, unimportant senator thought? It shouldn’t even bother him...but it did.
“You sure?”
“Yes!” It comes out clipped and harsh, a shout that has Bear’s shoulders dropping with a sigh. He turns his eyes on Sunny, with an apologetic frown, “Sorry...I just, I don’t want to talk about it, Sunny, okay?” The regret mingles with the anger and frustration and it tastes like rot on his tongue.
“Yeah, yeah, hey. I shouldn’t have pushed. Anything we can do, vod?” He’s concerned for Bear. Sunny has never seen his brother, his captain, so agitated and it’s worrying. But he knows Bear will tell them about it later, when he’s calmed down, when he’s got his head back in the right space. He was the most level headed of all of them, he’d sort it out himself, even if he didn’t ask for help. At least, not from them. The whole squad knew there was only one person he’d want to see right now, you.
Bear shakes his head, dark brown curls flying with the movement as he lets them loose from the big bun he’d shoved them in that morning to get his helmet on.
“No...Just need some time.”
In truth Bear just wants to get away from the Barracks and run to your quarters, to hold you in his arms and bury his face in your shoulder, to breathe you in. You are a comfort to him, greater than anything he’s ever known and his soul is calling for you, calling for your gentle touch and soothing words. He knows you’ll have the right thing to say, that you’ll ease the anger that bristles his shoulders. You always manage to brighten his day, to make things seem better even when they’re at their worst.
It’s you that he runs to after a difficult mission. It’s you that he seeks out when he wakes in the middle of the night from some bad dream or memory. It is you who he goes to when he needs comfort. He loves his brothers, but he is still their captain and there are just some things he can’t do around them. Being entirely vulnerable and open is one.
“I’ll...I’ll see you late, vod.”
They don’t ask where he’s going as he storms out of the barracks in only his blacks. They know.
The corridors are filled with his brothers, some nod in recognition, others ignore him, not knowing him personally. None stop to talk to him, perhaps they notice his mood or perhaps they’re too busy, either way Bear is grateful. He’s even more grateful that your quarters are down an empty and quiet corridor, where no one can see him coming and going or stop to question why he’s there.
It’s late enough in the evening that he knows you’ll be back soon, that your shift will end and the medical droids will take over for the night, unless there’s an emergency.
You gave him the code to your quarters months ago, he’s memorised it so well that he doesn’t even have to think as he inputs it, muscle memory does the majority of the work for him instead. He knows your quarters as well as he knows his bunk in the barracks, has his own drawer of clothes there, nothing fancy, but you insisted he have something comfortable and cozy to wear when he stays over.
He uses the refresher first, cleans the dirt off his skin and if he turns the temperature higher and lets the hot water attempt to burn away the comment, then that’s something he won’t mention later. It helps, a little, but not entirely.
You're tired when you finish your shift, always are. Being a doctor for the GAR was exhausting and today was no different. Still, you have enough wits about you to notice the lights are on and there’s a familiar pair of boots by your door when you enter your quarters.
“Bear? You here?” You call out to him, kicking off your shoes and shrugging out of your doctor’s coat. You hear a muffled ‘here’ from the direction of your bedroom and wander in that direction.
You can tell he’s used the refresher before you see him, just by the smell of warm water and soap that permeates the air in the corridor, there’s a warmth to it that says it wasn’t long ago and that’s confirmed by the sight of him still wrapped in a towel on the edge of your bed.
Bear has his elbows on his knees, hunched over with his face in his palms. His long brown curls are wet and mussed, his skin has a tint to it that says he had the water on too hot and he looks decidedly unlike himself. It worries you the moment you see him and you find yourself kneeling beside him, knees unhappy about the hard floor. It matters little when he’s so clearly upset.
You’re gentle as you pull at the hands covering his face, they are easily double the size of your own and cover him too well, hide him from you. The moment you can see his eyes they shift to you, deep and sad, it’s clear something has happened and it makes your chest ache.
You keep a hand in his while your other cups his cheek, stroking softly over the freckles that dot his skin like constellations without names. He leans into your touch, a heavy sigh that falls from his chest and with it some of that tension that he holds in his shoulders too.
“What happened, big?”
Your gaze feels like it’s scanning his soul, intent, but not unwelcome, he begins to speak freely for the first time all day. His mouth wraps around the words like they’re poison and each element of the story only deepens the frown that furrows your brow.
“Senator Ledwellow stopped by the temple today while I was watching the younglings, shebs thinks I'm a ‘danger’ to the younglings, a ‘big killer clone’ he called me, as if I'd ever hurt them! I’d die for those little one’s, I’d...I’d...I’d never...I’d never hurt them!” There are tears streaming from his eyes, big fat ones that call to how deeply the thought of ever hurting those children or being thought of as a danger to them cuts him.
“I know, big, I know! Hey…” You cup both cheeks with your hands, pulling his face closer to your own as you reach up on your knees to meet him. His skin is warm against yours as his forehead comes to rest against your own, but his tears are cool and wet as they drip from his skin onto your own in rivers.
You stay there, rocking slightly with him as he cries. It is the sort of cry that wrenches free from the depths of his chest hard and raw and causes your own throat to close up with emotion.
You have seen Bear sad, you’ve seen him scared, but those were small things. The melancholy of a bad memory or the fear from a nightmare, this is...this is different. It speaks of the fear he has deep within him that he is a danger to those children, that he is the big bad killer clone and not who you know him to be. Safe. Kind. Gentle. Caring. Loving. You have never doubted your safety in his presence and you have never doubted the safety of any child around him either.
You want to storm from your quarters and find Senator Ledwellow, to slap him across the face or at least give him a good talking too. To even think, to even suggest that Bear was anything but gentle with those children, to suggest he would hurt them, be a danger to them...it lowers your opinion of the senator and swaps your mood from worried to angry.
Still, Bear needs you more than the senator needs a slap, so you stay and you hold him to you. Letting his tears wash over your skin and his large hands grip at your back and shoulders as if that will ground him and keep him sane.
It feels like hours by the time the tears and the gasping slows, and a quick glance at the time tells you it has been. You are gentle as you tug him to his feet and help him dress, there is a new exhaustion that fills his bones now. The sort that can only come from crying out all your emotions. He is grateful as you tug his legs through a comfortable pair of trousers and carefully maneuver his head and hair through a shirt.
“Sit down for me, big.” You sit him at the edge of the bed again and grab a comb from the side, the one that goes easily through his curls and pulls the knots free. He is quiet as you tug at the knots and braid his hair back and out of the way for sleep.
It’s a little thing, something he would have forgotten to do, but that makes the world of difference when he wakes in the morning. It is the little things you do that make his chest ache for you, his heart hurt in the best sort of way. You know him. You care for him. You treat him with a tenderness that most don’t because of his size and his place as a clone trooper. Today is a day that he especially needs that tenderness, so he lets you braid his hair without comment and lets you ease him under the covers of your bed before you get into your own night clothes.
You look radiant. That’s what he thinks when he watches you dress. There’s something about the low light of the lamps across your skin and the fabric of your night clothes, silky and shiny, that makes him wonder if you aren’t secretly part Diathim, glowing, angelic and something more.
You tread carefully, turning down all the lights before slipping under the covers with him and urging him to rest on his side, back facing you. He doesn’t question nor does he complain as you curl against his back, holding him as if he were smaller than you and capable of being the little spoon.
It is comforting, the way your legs tangle with his own and your arms wrap fully around him. The weight and warmth of you at his back as you press little kisses into the space on the back of his neck.
“I know you, big. I love you and I don’t think you’d ever do anything to put those children at risk or hurt them. I hope you know that about yourself too.” You murmur it into his ear, soft and quiet, almost afraid to speak too loud and disrupt the peace. You tighten your grip on him and hope, hope that he doesn’t think he’s a danger to the younglings, hope that he doesn’t doubt himself because he is the gentlest person you have ever met.
He can’t find words, not really. Can’t express the gratitude and love he has for you in that moment. That you allow him a safe place to cry and feel, so be something other than captain and clone. Instead he reaches for your hand on his stomach and holds it in his own, presses it to his heart with a squeeze before pulling it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your skin.
His beard tickles the back of your hand, like always, and it instantly makes you smile. He doesn’t need to say it, you know he loves you and you don’t expect to hear it tonight. Not after the tears and the clear pain he’s gone through.
Still it is a lovely surprise to hear, when he clears his dry throat and quietly whispers, “Love you too, Sunshine” at you. His voice is raspy and deeper than normal, dry from his crying and his words are soft and quiet, barely audible.
You pull him tighter against you and hold him, rubbing circles into his chest and pressing kisses to his neck for a good hour before he falls asleep. The quiet little snore he does, oddly not irritating or disturbing at all, a noise you’ve grown fond of, rhythmic in nature lets you know he’s officially asleep.
It’s only then that you let yourself fall asleep as well. Only once you know he is asleep and won’t be awake and alone that you can allow yourself to drift off, content in the knowledge that he’d be okay. You promised yourself that if you saw Senator Ledwellow any time soon you’d have a bone or two or maybe ten to pick with him.
------------------------------
All Works Taglist
@charradelange @belfry-bat @gabile18 @beccaboo929
#clone trooper oc#clone trooper oc x reader#clone trooper x reader#star wars oc#star wars#clone wars#star wars reader insert#clone wars reader insert#gender neutral reader
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
For A Greater Good Fun Facts and Self Assesment (spoilers)
Long Post
What worked and what didn’t:
I think the overall structure worked pretty well. The most difficult part was, with the plot and subplot already created, scattering all those ideas throughout the text in such a way that at least made some sense. I regret not writing more about Mer Yankelevich, I feel like the crumbs I left on the way were not enough; in my attempt to make it subtle it lacked information about her. The key piece was of course her sister, and I should have introduced her sooner.
MC’s evolution. I feel like Kate’s learnt a lot with this experience (I’m not only referring to the Deathly Hallows or Grindelwald) When it started, she was very discreet and kept a low profile, not knowing what to do really, not taking more risks than necessary. And then she ended poisoned and splinching just to protect a document she thought was important. I hope her evolution is noticeable for the reader.
Worldbuilding. Grabbing HP concepts that were forgotten and full of potential, plus a dash of original ideas from me and blending them with muggle features was my absolute favourite part of the process.
On that note, I dont own these concepts: Durmstrang, Igor Karkarov, Nerida Vulchanova, umbrella flowers, fanged geraniums, billywigs, Appare Vestigium, glow-worms, trick wand, chamaleon ghouls,
If you’ve read the fic and thought: “everything happened so fast�� or got a general odd feeling about the timeline it's because I made a series of monumental mistakes: setting a chapter limit, telling you about it and then tried to stick to it. At first the idea sounded nice: this is my first “big” story with complicated components. I should (and I did) do an outline of what I want to happen in each chapter and stick to it methodically so I don't forget what's happening or lose track of the plot. Well...it kind of backfired. So I wrote the first 3 chapters and at that point I thought “okay everything is going as planned, I’m going to put it out there”, bam, instantly cursed. After that it got ridiculously difficult to make the story that I wanted. Why? I needed chapter space that I convinced myself I couldn’t add. Dumb.
The major consequence of this was the lack of character backgrounds. It started out good, but as I kept writing and publishing I realised that I missed some great opportunities to make amazing ocs. That’s Corentin’s fault in a way: he wasn't going to be a major character, really, just a piece to help Kate a bit. But we all fell in love with him so what was I supposed to do? Also, Sheyi Mawut owns my heart and he got just a bit of spotlight. A shame.
I wish I had written more about them, but I think I wasn’t ready just yet to make it even more complicated.I just wanted to prove I could concoct a mystery plot and now that I know I can manage a fair amount of information I think I can take it a step further and deepen new ocs a little bit more.
I’m thinking about the datura series and I know why I got blocked and tired of writing it; it wasnt going anywhere because I wasnt prepared, and I didn’t do the months of outlines and planning that I did with this one. I’ll come back to the datura story one day, subjecting it to a sever rewrite. The ideas are there, I just need to be organised.
Although the chapter limit was problematic it was also a good exercise of managing space and deciding which things were unnecessary for the story. I dont think there’s any filler chapters, perhaps the last ones, but there is important information there too so... However this sentence from the blog wordsandstuff reassured me (and I think I did a good job at that?)
If you set out to write 10 parts and you write a fantastic story in 8, you haven’t failed and it’s not too rushed. Concise writing is an underrated talent. Focus on how effectively you engage the reader, not for how long.
I spent more than year writing this! When I started, I had a lot of ideas, I wrote the last two chapters then the first 3 and I really thought it was going to be that way with the rest of the story... okay... lesson learnt. #humbled
Other thoughts:
I received a couple of comments on ao3 that said that they were pleasantly surprised. Maybe I should change the tags because they are misleading? Clearly this wasnt what people were looking for lol.
One particular comment stood out to me and quoting it said: “You did not choose the easy way with a fiction with so few characters from the fandom.” And I’ve been thinking about this since I read it. It didn’t occur to me that there were few mystery fics (maybe I should write more things like that? Maybe throwing some power couple detective work 👀 ) In any case, I’m glad I contributed with something different to the fandom, and the fact that the Charlie bits are very scarce but people who read it still liked it is really flattering.
I wanted to make sure that all the characters had strengths and flaws, I didnt want to severus-snape them so maybe I overdid it with that bit of introspection kate does at the end...
Also, I did the kiss and fade thing twice to mention sex. I know some people dont like that but since it wasnt the point of the story and I havent done research on how to write sex scenes I didnt include them. I have that on my “to learn” list.
Conclusions:
Writing the whole thing was incredible. It's my first ‘big’ project and its not a great work (there are some things I wish I did better, thats what you get when you are an agatha christie wannabe) and not writing more character backgrounds will haunt me to this day, but I think it's at least good for a first series and I’m proud of it. I loved spending hours doing research and trying to piece together this puzzle. And of course I’m not an expert and I dont want to sound pretentious (like this is my first story) but if you are planning to write this type of genre I can be another source of tips and tricks for you.
If I read the story after a while and I dont cringe, I would call that a success.
FUN? FACTS!
Bakunawa really belongs to Filippines mythology
Snapdragons have different meanings, one of them being: “grace under pressure or inner strength in trying circumstances”
The entrance to Grindelwald’s room was going to be in the duelling classroom, strangely shaped as a triangle. I had this system where one of the round candle lamps descended and lined up with a line on the floor (serving as separation for duels) it created the Deathly Hallows symbol. I couldn’t make that work because it wouldn't make any sense for Nerida Vulchanova to shape a room like that. Here are some sketches:
Lucius Malfoy was going to appear as the Ministry employee that goes to Durmstrang, but after revising the events of the OoP I realised it was impossible.
Kent Jorgensen was going to be around Kate’s age and the charms teacher and he would have a small crush on her. After seeing some pics of Pen Medina, I rewrote the character completely.
The series was going to be 6 chapters long (I’m glad I decided not to) one for each month. The chapter names were ridiculous: January of Beginnings, February of reputation, March of Students, April of Discoveries, May I? and June of Endings. #tragic
The Dolohov family was going to be a part of the plot but I had to erase that part because it was unlocking another layer of complexity that I just couldnt handle.
I dont remember exactly the chapter but I got really confused with the names Rhode and Hodges and there’s one chapter where I accidentally mixed them (I corrected it I think), but for a while I could stop calling Rhode, Hodges, and vice versa lmao
Here are some sketches that helped me describe and imagine things
Thank you for accompany me in this journey, especially if you endured the process with me lmao. You’ve been here for over A YEAR! <3 Mindblowing
Also I’d love to know your opinions about the way you read the story, I mean, I know some people read it as I published, and some other readers found the story already finished, what are the differences? Should I stop the updating system and drop a story all at once? I know it is difficult to keep up with a complex story if there’s a lot of weekly or monthly gaps between the chapters, so I wanted to know.
Sending you a virtual hug 💜💜
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Swim School
Hande tries to teach Lachlan to swim.
Yay, it’s finished! This idea haunted in my head for so long I had to write it before I start to really work on my giveaway prizes (I’m so sorry for making you wait!). This is my first fic featuring an OC of other person, so I’m pretty nervous. Thank you, @leila-of-ravens, of allowing me to use Lachlan - I hope I managed to do him justice and that you like it!
Characters: Hande Kuura, Lachlan Lonan & Leila Lonan (mentioned - Lachlan and Leila belong to @leila-of-ravens)
Content warning: mention of (almost) drowning
Words: ~2 360
”I still can't believe the navy didn't teach you how to swim... That's so stupid...” Hande snaps to herself when Lachlan enters the water cautiously. ”Well, they thought it would be more important to learn how to lick officers' boots than to swim,” the man chuckles, trying to look confident. There's no fooling Hande, though: she can see he's a little nervous and is feeling uncomfortable. Lachlan can feel Hande's eyes piercing through him, as if she could read his mind. ”Is something wrong?” the magician asks tentatively. Lachlan tries to keep his bravado when he answers, ”Wrong? Why would anything be wrong?” Hande just narrows her eyes which makes Lachlan's shoulders shrink. He sighs, deciding it's better to give her at least partial truth, ”I don't understand why you're seeing all this trouble... We haven't known each other that long and you're trying to teach a grown-up man how to swim.”
Hande raises her eyebrows, feeling a little uncertain, ”It isn't any trouble, Lachlan. I may not remember most of my past, but I've learnt from my parents, that especially in Hjalle swimming is an important life skill and taught to everyone. Besides, the first time we met you almost died, remember?”
Yes, the first meeting of Lachlan and Hande had been peculiar, to say the least. Both of them happened to be on a gondola ride in Vesuvia at the same time. Everything went well, until the gondolier of the boat, where Hande was in, became distracted and the gondola crashed with the one where Lachlan was in. Both of the gondoliers lost their balance and the boats keeled over. Hande managed to rise to the surface quickly, and was about to swim to the shore when she noticed that the passenger of other gondola was in trouble. His hands were trashing around, head bobbing above and below the waterline – the man was drowning. Hande immediately swam to the man, helped him to keep his head above the surface and swam with him to the shore. After the man had puked all the water out and recovered from the shock, Hande was surprised to learn that the man was the brother of her friend, Leila. Hande escorted Lachlan to Leila's tea shop, was invited in with many thanks and became acquainted with the youngest of Lonan brothers.
Lachlan is shifting his weight, still nearer to the shore than to Hande. He's known Hande for only a few weeks, and he doesn't like the idea of opening up to her. ”This is going to be a lot of work, you know? I'm not a patient man... And I'm probably too old for this,” he remarks with a lopsided smirk on his face. Hande sighs, but then smiles back to Lachlan, ”I wouldn't have offered to teach you if I thought I can't handle it. I know it will be a long process and I'm prepared for it. And nonsense, you're never too old to learn something.” Hande realises the man is stalling right now, and can't help but wonder if he finds it uncomfortable to be in her presence. Trying her best to brush her creeping insecurities away, she decides not to push Lachlan, but let him do things in his own time. After a tense moment, the man finally breaks the silence, ”Why? Why are you so keen to help me? You've only known me for a little time.” Hande lowers her gaze, staring at the water. She keeps fiddling her swimsuit, thinking what she should say.
The silence starts to feel a little awkward, which makes Lachlan feel uneasy and impatient. He's wondering if he should leave, when Hande finally answers, her voice not louder than a whisper, ”I have seen someone die in an accident that could have been avoided... I don't want that to happen again, if I can help it.” The way the magician gave her answer, so ruefully, makes Lachlan curious. Still, he decides it'll be better not to pry. Instead, he finally approaches Hande, tentatively placing his hand on her shoulder. Lachlan can feel Hande tense a little, but then she relaxes, turning to face the man. She gives him a bashful smile, patting the hand on her shoulder, ”Well, it's no use to scowl about it, let's begin our lesson!” she chirps, sounding almost too cheerful.
Lachlan doesn't want to make his sister's friend to feel any more uncomfortable, so he tries to lighten the mood, ”Well, boss, what are we going to do? Making me wave my hands in the air like a fool?” Hande can't help but snort at his question. Feeling a little better, she shakes her head while answering. ”No, that would be way too advanced for you,” Hande snaps with mischief in her voice, ”Firstly I'm going to teach you how to float.” Lachlan's jaw drops a little in surprise. ”To float? Are you kidding me? How is that supposed to help me?” The woman barks a laughter and almost falls into the water, but manages to maintain her balance. ”Sorry, I just couldn't help it... Oh, my sweet summer child, floating is essential thing to learn if you really want to be able to swim. Firstly, you're going to float while swimming. Secondly, being able to float might save your life if you get a cramp in the middle of a lake, for example. Do you have any other questions? And really, feel free to ask anytime if you feel like it,” Hande explains with a bright smile on her face.
The man shakes his head, answering Hande's smile with a smirk. She might seem shy at first, but he has to admit she has some nerve, implying that Lachlan would be naive. Maybe this is going to be fun, after all – Hande clearly is a humorous one. ”Okay, consider me convinced – let's begin,” he declares. Hande claps her hands together before she starts explaining, ”So, the most important thing is relaxation. In order to float, you need to be relaxed. Like this.” Hande leans back, letting her lower body rise to the surface. She glances at Lachlan who is watching her attentively, ”If you feel like it, you can spread your arms horizontally and your legs apart from each other – like a starfish,” Hande instructs while showing Lachlan how to do that. Then she stands up again, wiping her wet hair from her cheeks, and gestures Lachlan to come in front of her.
”Now, let's try that together. Do you trust me?” Hande asks a little playfully. Lachlan chuckles and splashes some water in her direction, ”Well, you didn't hesitate coming to my aid during the gondola accident – just don't get any ideas, I won't admit it publicly, but it was very embarrassing for me.” Hande's lips turn into a smirk. ”I take it as a yes,” she says softly, ”Okay, so: you will lay on your back while I hold your back with my hands. When you're relaxed I will let you go to see if you can float. Don't worry: I will be near you, so I can catch you if it doesn't work out. How does that sound to you?” For Lachlan that doesn't sound too hard, so he nods in agreement. Hande places her arms above the waterline, her elbows attached to her sides. ”Whenever you're ready,” she tells her companion, and Lachlan tentatively starts to lean back. ”Don't worry, I won't let you sink,” Hande assures after noticing his hesitation. To lighten the mood she adds, ”If I let you sink, we couldn't float down here together,” her eyes glinting with mischief.
Because Lachlan wasn't prepared for Hande's latest remark, he bursts into laughter, almost tripping over. ”Is that supposed to make me feel safe?” he chuckles, ”You're not doing very good job, if that was your intention.” Hande joins in Lachlan's laughter, but still keeps her posture. ”Hah, quit whining, you'll be fine! There aren't any sewers nearby – at least not any I'm aware of,” she snickers. Seeing her opportunity, Hande cunningly pushes the back of Lachlan's ankle with her foot, causing him fall back first into her arms. ”You tricked me!” Lachlan yelps a little shocked by the turn of events. Hande just laughs, still holding Lachlan's back, ”If I hadn't done that, we would just stand here for the whole day. And you were supposed to be the impatient one.” Well, Hande really has a point, Lachlan couldn't deny that – he finally is lying, supported by Hande's hands. ”Now that the hardest part is over, you only need to relax,” Hande states encouragingly. That shouldn't be too hard, right?
More like ”easier said than done”. Every time Hande lets go of Lachlan when he's relaxed, he panics – despite of the fact Hande warns him before she removes her hands from his back. This causes Lachlan to become extremely frustrated and willing to just give up. Unfortunately for him, Hande is resilient and patient, so she doesn't let Lachlan to back down. ”No one is born a master. You should know that, since you're very gifted at many things,” Hande comforts, ”If this isn't going to work today, we just pick another day and try again. You may not feel like it, but you're doing really good: letting me teach you is big of a deal, and I'm honored you trust me enough to do this.” After a little hesitation, she pats Lachlan friendly on his shoulder. ”What do you say: should we give it another go, hmm?” Hande asks with warmth in her voice. Lachlan feels pretty uneasy: the kindness Hande is showing, although he's clearly not a very good student – it feels so overwhelming.
Hande keeps observing Lachlan and notices his inconvenience. She isn't sure how to make Lachlan feel better, but she isn't going to give up. ”Lachlan... It really is okay. I hope I haven't made you feel uncomfortable with my behavior or anything... I just really want to help you, it's not any trouble for me. After my resurrection, it took me almost two years to learn how to be a human again. I couldn't speak, walk or eat myself, and my friend had to babysit me, an adult woman! Why I'm saying this is because... I know learning takes time, and I don't mind it at all. I've known you only for a couple of weeks, but I can tell you're really a good man. Leila is my friend, and I hope you'll be my friend, too. Please, give yourself a chance – you deserve it.” Lachlan stares at Hande, unable to speak. He hadn't known the circumstances of Hande's resurrection, and although she told only little about it, it feels painful. The man isn't sure why Hande is being so nice to him, but her words sounded sincere. Lachlan doesn't want to cause any more trouble to her, so he nods and smiles, ”You won: let's give it a go one more time.”
Hande gives Lachlan a bright smile and gestures him to lay back again. This time she wants to make sure the man gets relaxed and stays that way when she lets go of him. Musing for a moment, she glances at the sky and see some clouds floating above them. It gives her an idea. ”Look, that cloud looks like an osprey! Isn't your familiar on of them?” the woman asks quietly, trying not to startle Lachlan. The man tries to look at the direction Hande is looking at, and after seeing the cloud in question, snorts, ”Hah, it really looks like Emer! Well spotted! And that one looks like violin.” Hande's smile widens, ”What a coincidence, I play violin!” ”Really? You must show me someday!” Lachlan exclaims excitedly. ”Well, for that you'd need to have level 50 friendship with me – I hate performing,” Hande chuckles, fighting not to tremble. ”Is that a challenge? I'm happy to accept,” Lachlan barks trying to keep still as well.
They continue like this for a moment, spotting clouds and joking with each other. Hande can feel Lachlan relaxing more and more, but this time she decides not to tell her companion when she takes her hands from his back. The duo keeps chatting, until Hande can't hide her excitement any longer. ”Lachlan,” she says, ”Don't freak out, but you've been floating by yourself a couple of minutes right now.” After Hande has said that, Lachlan finally notices how her hands aren't holding his back anymore. He's done it, he really is floating. Letting out a triumphant shriek, he spread his limbs and laughs, ”And now I'm a starfish! Hah, you really did it! You really managed to teach me something!” Then Lachlan stands up, seeing Hande is laughing as well. ”That was wonderful, Lachlan, great job – I'm so proud of you!” she exclaims and pats him on his bicep. She's glowing with happiness and pride – it's so infectious Lachlan starts to feel those things, as well. ”Can I hug you?” he asks in the moment of joy. Hande stops for a moment, taken aback by the question – she still isn't that used to endearments even from her family. After her brain starts to function again, she gives Lachlan a small smile, ”Maybe this once.”
Lachlan doesn't wait but takes Hande into his arms. The woman tenses for a moment, but then melts into a hug, giving one for Lachlan, too. It actually feels quite nice – Lachlan is a good hugger. Eventually Hande lets go, looking a little shy. ”Well, how was it? Do you let me teach you again?”
she asks unsurely. ”Are you kidding me?” Lachlan laughs, ”You are probably the best teacher I've ever had! Maybe I can learn how to swim, after all.” He places his arm on Hande's shoulder and walk back to the shore with her. Hande is mumbling something under her breath, probably about how her teaching skills aren't that great, but Lachlan won't hear any of it. ”And now, Hande, I'll buy you a drink, if you allow it.” Hande glances at Lachlan, giving him a smirk, ”All right, fair enough.”
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Paper, Scissors, Rank (Ch: 5)
CHARACTER/PAIRING: Modern!Carrillo x Army!OC (eventually)
WARNINGS: maybe some swearing, military slang, more military talk, spelling and grammatical errors. Flippy floppy points of view and tenses. Could be very OOC/AU for some. Carrillo may not be narcos accurate as this is an AU. Some OC x OC
AUTHORS NOTE: bit of backstory in this chapter, warning if you don't like blood, theres some but its not overly descriptive. Other than that, bit of Carrillo, bit of OC. bit of everything really. shorter chapter
WORD COUNT: 2.4k
CHAPTER: 5 OF ?
TAG LIST(OPEN): @girlpornparadise @1zashreena1 @xxidontwikeitxx @nicke0115 @allalngthewtchtower @lettherebrelight
Greyson stayed slumped against the wall longer than necessary, hopelessly trying to bring her heart rate back to normal after the frankly, overwhelmingly hot, interaction with the Colonel. Yes she was ecstatic that she had been chosen for his team, but she wasn’t really able to process that information after the mess he had left her in. She was panting like a dog in heat, unbearably turned on, and sticky in places she hadn’t been in a very long time. Whatever he had just done to her, she wanted more of it. Lots more of it. He had opened a gateway into all things filthy and it frustrated her to no end.
Pushing herself into the upright position was no easy feat, but she knew she needed to work out her frustration even more after that interaction with the Colonel. No, she thought, maybe from now on I should call him Carrillo, since he is now my boss and all. The thrill of that settled low in her stomach and had her heart jumping at the thought. Grunting she pushed herself towards the gym with haste, before she could follow the mounting temptation to follow the Colo--- Carrillo, down the hallway to finish what he started.
Glancing around the gym she made note of the equipment. A few boxing bags, a couple of dumb bells, a bench press and other various things she could not name. Not the best of gyms but it would do. Stripping out of her long sleeve camo shirt she was left in her army issue green t-shirt, a shirt that was usually reserved for occasions such as this. She made the hasty decision to shuck off her boots and socks leaving her barefoot, before rolling her pants legs up a few inches to rest a rough inch below her knee. A much more practical workout attire.
Forgoing the weights as they weren’t her style, Greyson focused on the bags hanging in the middle of the room. Now this is where she would have fun. Coming from a generational military family had meant that her father had wanted her ‘fighting fit’ as soon as she was able to walk. By the time she was five years old she had been enrolled in martial arts and kids cadets. By age twelve she had won three championships in the sport and taken home the drill trophy at the cadet school. She couldn’t have made her father prouder, until the moment she won nationals for kickboxing, taking home the trophy and quite substantial prize money. That was the moment she knew she wanted to fight for a living, not as a pro kickboxer but as a soldier like her father was, she was only fifteen at the time.
At age seventeen she enlisted in the army, only to be denied on medical grounds and put on a two year stand down. From then on out, her father didn’t pay her any notice, always stealing himself away from the ‘disappointment’ of the family and being deployed for months at a time on purpose. Being the only child, and being denied access into the only service her family thought fit to serve in, made her feel like a useless waste of space.
Even while feeling like the worlds biggest disappointment she still pushed herself to her limits, training seven days a week for up to four hours a day, trying oh so desperately to make her father proud of her. At nineteen she didn’t want to become a regular soldier, she wanted to become an officer, but that would require her to wait another two years to be the minimum age to enlist. So she waited, kept training hard. She took shooting lessons at the local range, would do weighted pack runs three times a week and spend hours out in the bush at night teaching herself survival techniques. All the things she could hope would help her when she finally made the cut.
When she enlisted again at twenty-one, they denied her on the grounds that ‘she didn’t have enough life experience’, so this time, instead of letting it get to her, she doubled down on the training. And finally, when she reapplied again at twenty two years of age, she was accepted and began her first day of training a mere week after her twenty third birthday. Yet, she was still one of the youngest of the cadets she enlisted with, the eldest, Cadet Monroe, being thirty two years of age. It baffled her why someone would join as a cadet at that age when she knew the LT. Colonel, and possibly the Colonel himself, was younger than the cadet.
Pushing those thought from her mind Greyson began her workout, spending a small amount of time to warm up, before jumping straight into combination drills on the bag that she had learnt many years ago. She was able to switch off at this point, the years of doing the same routines over and over had drilled this into her muscle memory. She was all fluid motion and hard calculated strikes at her age. Briefly her thoughts return to the situation that had occurred mere minutes ago in the hallway. The way the Colonel’s body had been so tightly pushed against her had her breathing increasing, far from being exhausted she threw more weight into her strikes.
Damn that handsome bastard of an officer for working me up like this. This is the kind of shit that shouldn’t be getting to me anymore! , and with one last frustrated huff Greyson threw her hardest punch yet, yelping from the force of landing on the bag. She pulled her hand towards her chest to examine it. From the look of it, there was no damage done other than a few bruises covering her knuckles, not an unusual feeling for the cadet. She just wish she had been quick enough to land a hit of that smug face that was now haunting her thoughts more so than ever.
-------
Carrillo had finally made it to his intended destination, Lt. Colonel Sinclair's’ office. There was small doubt in his mind that the man residing within the office had been playing upon His cadets’ emotions during the course of her training. He wasn’t a stupid man by any means, he had put two and two together after witnessing the moment that occurred between himself and Greyson at the training yards. The smug smirk the Lt. had sported while walking past him that day had planted a seed of disrespect towards the man.
Carrillo didn't bother to knock on the man's door before barging in, he was in fact the senior officer in this situation so the LT. could suck it up.
Sinclair stood up in a hell of a rush, not really sure as to who would be bursting into his office at this time of day, he had half expected to see Cadet Greyson standing there waiting to apologize and finally accept his attention, instead he was greeted with the stone faced Colonel from Columbia. “Ah Sir, good to see you again, I gather that your time on the base has been productive, congrats on forming your team. Now, what can I help you with, Sir ?”
“It has been brought to my attention that you were not forthcoming about the information regarding the cadet that I have selected, rather you lied to the cadets while claiming you had not yet been informed yourself, is this true Lieutenant?”
“I... uh... what Sir. I don’t know where you got that bullshit from but that is not the case, I held Greyson behind to give her the good news but she stormed off before I could tell her” The lieutenant cleared his throat to cover his mounting embarrassment at the situation before him. He definitely wasn’t above lying to cover his tracks and throw the Colonel in front of him off the scent of his essentially illegal advances at the cadet mentioned. He was greeted with a raised eyebrow and a knowing look on the Columbians face.
“I think it's safe to say you can cut the shit, Sinclair. I know all about your advances toward Cadet Greyson. I fail to see why you would lie about it considering the rumors' brewing in the Cadets barracks tonight. That and might I mention the encounter I witnessed between you and Greyson just a few days ago. There was nothing professional about that!”
“Look, Sir” The Lt. Colonel spat, making his way around his desk to make himself look bigger, “Frankly it's none of your damn business which cadets I chose to associate with or not. Greyson can make up her own mind about what and WHO, she wants. And let's face it, they graduate in a little over a week now. The cadets are fair game to the rest of the corps now” The borderline insubordination coupled with the hungry grin cemented exactly what the Lt. Colonel was trying to obtain. The realization had Colonel Carrillo’s stomach turning at the thought. If he was this open and honest about his intentions then HIS cadet was in a very rocky situation.
Clearing his throat and taking a rather large step toward the lower ranked officer before him, the Colonel fought off the need to punch the smug man in the face. But there was no point in doing that, lest he chase off the Cadet from his team, he still was unsure of her exact feelings for the man currently before him. He tilted his head back to stare down his nose at the perverse man before him. Crowding just ever so close to the man to make him uncomfortable.
“I suggest you stay the fuck away from that recruit, Lieutenant. She is part of MY team which now makes her, MY responsibility and henceforth, MY cadet. Keep your filthy hands off her or I'll have you charged for unwanted advances, then it will be goodbye senior rank and back to junior officer you go. Understood?” The Colonel declared, fully expecting the man before him to back down, except defeat and allow him to carry on with his evening. The exact opposite occurred.
“I think there is something you just don’t quite get, Sir” the Lt. Colonel scoffed, “That girl out there, that stupid young cadet, will believe anything that is fed to her. How do you think I got her wrapped around my finger in the first place” He laughed off the end of his sentence, pushing at the Colonels’ shoulders in order to get past him to sit back down behind his desk. “As far as I'm concerned, you don’t have a single claim on that cadet until she accepts your proposal to join your team..” he trailed off before delivering the most sarcastic “SIR!” he could muster. Shoulder shaking as he chuckled away to himself.
-------
Greyson had pushed herself to the point of over exertion. Working out at a hundred percent capacity would do that to a person, even if she was used to endurance training. Combining the work out with her mental and previous physical exertion had been enough for her to drop to the mats after a solid hour of hammering the training bag. Her knuckles of her left hand were thoroughly bruised but the knuckles of her right hand were a bit more worse for wear. A deep gash had formed over the knuckle of her index finger, the bloody pouring steadily from the gash, the rest of her knuckles on that hand were marked with much smaller gashes, a minimal amount of blood coming from the cuts. It looked like she’d killed someone.
Cradling her hand to her chest she made her way to the bathroom adjacent to the gym. She turned the tap on, waiting for the water to run clear before thrusting her hands under it to clean off the blood, barely flinching at the sting that came from cleaning out the gash. The sink turned a faded crimson from the amount of blood being washed from her hands. She felt numb, unbearingly so, it seemed the week had finally caught up with her, she felt as though she could curl up in a ball right now and wake up a week later. So lost in her own thoughts and mesmerized by the blood flowing from her hands and into the sink, she failed to notice the presence behind her until it was too late. One minute the cadet is watching her blood flow down the sink, the next her vision is fading to black.
-------
Carrillo was fuming, muscles taught, hands curled tight and ready to release upon the man before him. His jaw was clenched so tight he could hear his teeth grinding together. He took a step towards the man with the full intent of knocking his flat onto the floor, black out cold. And he would have too, if it wasn’t for the frantic knocking followed closely by Cadet Calliope all but throwing himself into the room.
“Sir, come quick, it's Greyson” Calliope exclaimed. There was a frantic tone in his voice that snapped both men out of their grudge match.
Carrillo spun to give the young man his full attention, before nodding at the recruit, “Lead the way Cadet” . They followed the cadet through the twists and turns of the hallways leading towards the medics bay. Upon seeing both officers the nurses rushed them through to her room. And there, laying almost deathly still, was Cadet Greyson. Gash above her eyebrow being stitched together as Carrillo watched on from the door. She looked nothing like the strong cadet he had seen perform all week. She looked fragile, too fragile. Not wanting to watch any further he pushed past Sinclair who was standing directly behind him, mouth agape, hands shaking and look like he might collapse himself.
Carrillo grabbed Calliope by the arm, pulling him down the hallway and into a spare room. He rounded on the cadet, finger pointed and eyes ablaze, as he hissed, “Explain to me exactly what you know Cadet, and don’t you dare leave anything out”
Cadet Calliope gulped, mouth suddenly dry. Well here goes nothing, he thought
#horacio carrillo#horacio carrillo x oc#horacio carrillo x reader#narcos fanfic#modern au#paper scissors rank#chapter 5#narcos
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
PAIN: Cedric Diggory (C.D)
Pairings: Lyra Lestrange (oc) x Cedric Diggory.
Genre: It's a surprise. Trust me I won't disappoint you.
Warnings: None.
Word count: 4.3K+
Prompts used: 2) ‘will you shut up?” 29) ‘Shut up and kiss me’ (Did a bit of changes in the prompts, I hope you don’t mind it. Prompts used in BOLD)
A/N: Hey guys! This is my entry for @wandsandwheezes ‘s writing challenge! Congratulations on the 300 FOLLOWERS lovely! Your works are absolutely amazing! So this is my first ever Harry Potter work. So I understand if the work is a little rusty. I don’t really have much to say. I really hope y’all like it and don’t forget to leave this work a heart, a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed it! I have a few works related to my OC, so if you want to know about her, I’ll be more than happy to post more about her! Constructive criticism are always welcome and just tell me your honest opinions on it!!
Here’s a small CyRa (Cedric x Lyra) based moodboard:
Lyra laid back on the mat beneath her, feeling absolutely peaceful. A soft smile decorates her lips as her eyes fixated on to the night sky which was littered with infinite stars, beside her boyfriend Cedric Diggory who seemingly looked preoccupied with his racing thoughts.
"The stars always have this..unexplained feeling of..calmness...just some kind of mesmerizing charm to it..don't you think so Ced?" Lyra asks, her eyes brimming up with a sense of calmness, her gaze still fixated onto the stars.
"Yeah of course..they're beautiful..they're absolutely spectacular." Cedric pauses uneasily, his gaze nervously shifting between the night sky and Lyra
"Are you alright Ced? You've been awfully quiet the entire time..Are you sick or something?" Lyra asks as she looks at him, her chin resting on her arm.
"NO!" Cedric shouts a bit too loud "I mean no!! Nothing's wrong!! I'm fine! Completely okay!!" Cedric answers a bit too quickly
"Are you sure? You sound extremely nervous..like really nervous..Are you absolutely sure you're okay?" Lyra asks again, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she looks at him.
"I'm fine Lyrie..I'm all fine. I'm just..Maybe I'll let you know after sometime? " Cedric asks, his tone nervous as Lyra nods reluctantly but seemingly understood.
"Okay..yeah I understand. Just talk to me when you're ready..or only if you do want to talk about it. You don't have to talk to me about it if you don't want to." Lyra replies as she squeezes his arm in reassurance.
"Well actually maybe on second thought..can we just go there?" Cedric asks as he points at a spot on the other side of where the two of them sat.
"The moonlight looks absolutely pretty and perfect there..and..it's getting stuffy just sitting here..maybe we should take a small stroll?" Cedric finishes as he lets go of her hand, further confusing the dark haired witch.
"Well of course..if you say so.." Lyra replies, slightly confused and annoyed at his rather odd behavior.
/ / /
The both of them begin walking towards the spot Cedric had suggested. Cedric had been awfully quiet throughout the entire stroll. Cedric kept trailing behind her slowly and practically refused to look at her..
which had unexpectedly infuriated her for some reason. What did she do that he had to completely ignore her and act absolutely abnormal?
She knew he had his personal issues and would come around when he was comfortable. But he was constantly distracted and inattentive the entire day. What was it..that was so huge that bothered him? She wanted to help..but she..didn't know to.
She walks ahead a bit quickly and finally stops in front of a small lake, the moon's reflection beaming onto the lake. She stared at it, her arms crossed not bothering to wait for Cedric to join her. Maybe he just needed some time alone..and maybe after he was done sorting his problems as such. So she just did what she had to do..give him the space and time he needed to clear his thoughts. Lyra sighs as her gaze fixates on to the lake that laid in front of her.
"Lyra..Lyra..?" Cedric calls out from behind her
"You can come to me when you're ready to talk. I don't want to have a one sided conversation without any actual response as such. If you were having a bad day then we could have easily cancelled this and stayed home. You came up with this idea yourself Ced. I would have understood if you told me you weren't feeling great. I wouldn't have complained." Lyra replies, crossing her arms, her gaze still firmly fixated on to the lake.
"Just listen. I know this is going to sound absolutely weird but how many last names do you actually have Lyra?" He asks as Lyra rolls her eyes
"It's..Lyra Cassiopeia Black Lestrange.. So that's two last names..and one mid- -" Lyra pauses for a split second "Wait..why ar- " Lyra begins again,her tone laced with frustration only to be interrupted by Cedric once again.
"Do you perhaps..have the space to fit just one more?" Cedric asks, his tone clearly nervous.
"What in Salazar's na- -" Lyra begins as she turns behind freezing instantly in shock as her gaze fixates onto Cedric, her mouth slightly agape.
He stood on his one knee, a small box in his hand as he awkwardly looked at her. He quickly passes her a small awkward smile with all the leftover courage he could muster up.
"Cedric Diggory..what in Salazar's name are you-- -" Lyra begins halfway, her tone uneasy and nervous
"I'm extremely nervous..please don't question me any further Lyra.." Cedric interrupts her
"Let me just go on with this..Just don't talk. Just listen and nod..okay?" Cedric pleads.
"Don't tell me you're - " Lyra begins again
"Just please..don't interrupt..just let me down with this?" Cedric pleads as Lyra nods awkwardly.
"Well..first things first, I'm not going to go straight to it..but I don't want to drag on with it for too long..there are some things I want to say..but I'm not sure what or where to start with. So just let me finish it and then you can do or say whatever you wish to.
Lyra..the first time I had met you which I don't remember when exactly was it..I mean, I had seen you hanging around with Malfoy, who still can't stand my presence even now. What's his issue with me? I mean sure I'm dating his cousin sister but does he forget the fact that the feelings are mutual? I wonder if he'll ever warm up to me...sounds highly unlikely but I can still hope.
Okay so like I was saying, yeah I thought you were like a part of Malfoy's posse or something..and Malfoy had less than attractive traits…well I admit..maybe at the first glance..I might have perhaps over generalized..but when we actually interacted..it was less of an actual conversation...all I did was help you with your books...but you didn't see it as a kind act..and just rolled your eyes at my actions..when I had asked you if being helpful was a crime, instead of shoving me off your way or..you know, being snarky and walking away without a reply..You stood there and calmly responded to all my sarcastic comments with even more sarcastically snarkier ones...To say, I was awestruck and amazed would be a downright understatement. After that incident as such, I decided to put behind my judgement..and wanted to see the real you..the you behind all that sarcastic gestures, the fake smiles and the hard exterior.
Witty banters with you have always been entertaining because you challenge me in so many ways...and I've enjoyed them thoroughly. I realized that the more you tried to contradict me..the more drawn I was to you.
Well, I remember helping you with your flying lessons..and through that we sort of turned into good friends..or at least acquaintances the bare minimum. Though you learnt flying the hard way..I'm still very SORRY for that sprain! It still bothers me till date.But looking at the bright side..you turned out an excellent flyer and a phenomenal chaser! So you're welcome.
We eventually grew closer..well not really, I used to come and bother you in the library…we'd meet each other in the hallway..I'd wave at you at the Great Hall..we'd engage in small talks here and there..and yet all you did was resist me? How could you do it Lyra? I was..well still am the most appealing person ever..Okay don't glare at me Lyra..I was just stating facts.
Well..you see..You just have such a beautiful personality..like this magnetic aura that automatically gets everyone around you to feel almost instantly safe..and comfortable. You're just mesmerizing. Anyone you know..if they ever felt an ounce of uncertainty about themselves and just feel that maybe no one cares, you shower them with all the love and affection you've had on to them. You make them feel..worthy and deserved.
You're smart, independent, brave, warm hearted, spectacular, amazing and for the plus point..you're super cute and pretty at the same time. I mean..I just want to squeeze your cheeks whenever you're mad...cause it's so evident...when you're annoyed or pissed with someone..but again you're adorable when you're mad..but again, it's fun to get you all agitated and then further fuel that energy to something stea- - Okay I'll stop. Would you stop disintegrating me with your glares? I'm just a baby." Cedric pauses as he catches his breathe.
"No..wait! I'm not done yet!" Cedric counters as Lyra closes her mouth and nods slowly.
"Yeah..so again, like I was saying..after all that effort, you managed to acknowledge my presence and decided to be friends with me! And slowly..we had finally got close..We spent our free afternoon with small picnics filled with the most random sets of goodies, stargazing..I clearly remember the times when you'd point at weird patterns..what were they- -oh yeah constellations! Yeah so you'd show me the stars and explain about their origins as such..and I'd have no clue about it but you always seemed so..interested and enthusiastic about it that I let you ramble on. Your rants about things you were highly informed about as such were really fun.. especially when I didn't know about what in Merlin's name were you even talking about..it was just fun to see you get all excited and geeky about it.
And what else? Oh of course! My extremely spectacular and creative love letters..and how you'd just roll your eyes at them..I'd put my entire heart and EFFORTS on to them…and yet you'd be the only girl who'd SHRUG away my letters...but I'm sure you internally appreciated it. Okay most of them were amazing pick up lines and small weird poems I came up with during the classes but..it was pretty sweet..you're so lucky that I wro- -Lyrieee!! Okay okay..but you have to admit they were good..at least MOST of them..half of them?! Oh come on Ly!! Stop hurting my poor pride." Cedric rants, a playful pout on his lips
"As time went on, I started to feel… something weird around you. Your presence felt necessary and I found a solace in your company...I wanted to be around you, not like in a creepy obsessed way but an aching feeling to just be around you whenever I could..Suddenly your smile seemed more precious, your presence a bit more necessary, your actions..a bit more meaningful.
I started to notice little features of yours I barely never did...like the serious look you have when you read a book with utmost concentration, the way you furrow your eyebrows together when you're thinking hard, the smug look you have throughout the entire Quidditch matches you play, the way your eyes gleam with a brightness when you talk about things you like, the way your gaze shifts quickly whenever you want to ask someone a favor because you hated asking anyone for any types of favors because it made you feel helpless and dependent, the way you roll your eyes whenever people mildly try to prove you wrong especially when you know you're right and they aren't and just that infamous smirk would get my heart fluttering like it had some wings as such. I know that's not really possible..but that's how it felt.
The thing is that I didn't realize that I was slowly starting to fall in love with you..fully and thoroughly. Maybe it was always there..a part of me always fancied the idea and the concept of being with you..but I had no idea it would escalate into such strong feelings..like it has turned into what it is till date.
You made me feel loved, deserved, happy and somehow whole in a way. You showed me that every problem had solutions…and you helped me find the solutions to mine. You corrected me whenever I was wrong, stood beside me,supported me before anyone else did and when no one else would.
Everything started to make sense around you..and that's when I finally realized..oh no! I'm in love with my..best friend! The thought terrified me..The thought that I could potentially call you mine forever or lose everything we've ever had.
I obviously didn't want to admit it to myself and you..because then it would be entirely awkward. I needed you in my life..and if I did tell you that I loved you more than a friend and if you thought our relationship was purely platonic, then it would evidently ruin things between us no matter what. I didn't want my petty feelings as such to come in the way and tear the bond we shared.
But my love for you was..just absolutely evident...it was just the truth and it just wasn't platonic in any sense whatsoever no matter how hard I tried to convince myself. I tried really hard but I couldn't hide it for long.
So after a lot of thinking..by lot I mean a lot. I decided to write a letter to you after the numerous failed attempts to tell you in person how I felt about you because I always chickened out..and that's why I'd talk about the most random things especially when you'd ask me basic things like..how my day went...or how my classes were and I'd awkwardly talk about the weather...and you'd give me a confused look and shrug it off without much questions.
So I finally set up my mind and decided to confess my feelings by writing you a letter.. and then all that drama related to that letter followed by. But when you decided to be the mature one and by that I mean when you very practically yelled out that you had feelings for me..I was..just so flustered,happy and excited and everything! I mean.. I expected a cute speech, roses and chocolates of some sort whilst a confession..but yelling them out too wasn't a bad idea..It was a very.. natural way of confession. So again thank you for that. I don't ever want to think what would have happened if you didn't drag me and force me into that conversation.
So even though there was the brief period of unnecessary- unspoken argument which could have been avoided if I wasn't so afraid to tell you how I truly felt about you! But it was all..at the end of the day for the good…not really. It was terrible not being able to talk to you about everything and anything...but things turned out for the best. It made me realize that..without your presence in my life, there was an evident part of me that was missing.
It was either all I could have ever wanted..or it would be my biggest regret. So back then..my reasons in a way..was understandable.
After we began dating, there was this sort of awkward phase..where we didn't really know how to act with one another. But slowly and carefully..we did get used to it. It was fun..exciting and amazing. Picnic dates, honest love letters and just the love and affection that came out of our relationship, to think all of it was real and not platonic anymore..it was a dream come true. Of course, we've had our ups and downs..but at the end of the day, we had each others' backs and loved each other thoroughly.
And then I graduated off but we stayed in touch through letters and surprise presents. I've grown to love and cherish all of them with all my entire heart! We made up for the distance by meeting up at the holidays and despite the distance, we still could make up time for one another. Thank you for tolerating all my amazing pick up lines, all the flowers I've gotten you, all the very silly things I've done for you…for the record you liked them..well at least most of them at least.
Lyra, you push me off my comfort zones.. speaking of which, I also remember that one time you quite literally pushed me off those stairs. I know it was a mere accident..but considering the fact that you hadn't left my side until my minor sprain had healed..it was kind of like a win- win situation for me.
You bring out the best in me, stayed beside me even after seeing the worst in me...not a lot of people do that. They're quick to leave when things go downhill.. and quick to stay when you're at your best.You stayed even when there were millions of reasons to leave.
We've had a fair share of arguments and disagreements. A lot of them weren't our greatest memories but at the end of the day, we solved them together and sorted out our differences and misunderstandings. We came out stronger than before.
It's just that..Lyra when I'm with you or around you, nothing else really matters to me. I feel so free and comfortable around you and I just..you just mean so much to me! I can do all the most imaginable cliché things but somehow it doesn't feel all awkward and weird...when it's with you.
You aren't just my girlfriend..you're my best friend..it's like finding my soulmate in the form of my best friend..You mean, a lot to me. I don't think I can ever elaborate on how much your presence and your love makes me feel. You bring in the best version of myself and I'm always happy when I'm around you. You complete me..make me feel like maybe I deserve it..
You add meaning and color to my life..and despite your flaws and how much ever you emphasize on it..All I see is a beautiful mess. Well..ten times beautiful inside out and...a tad bit of mess. Just a small bit..your sweet smile makes up for those irrelevant little flaws. So just beauty and perfection with a lot of sass and sarcasm.
I just love you so very much. I want to wake up beside you every single day of my entire life..just spending all my good years and bad ones beside you..maybe have a child or two? Only if you want to..I mean maybe later! I want us to grow old together..and spend our lives together.. forever and ever! And the point is that I can never picture any of this happening with anyone else apart from YOU!
So what I'm trying to say is that, Lyra Cassiopeia Black Lestrange..will you make me the happiest wizard in the ENTIRE wizarding world by getting married to me? Wait..we marry each other..I sounded narcissistic for a split second. Do you want to marry me? Will you marry me? Dear Merlin- -what am I even saying?" Cedric rants out as he breathes heavily.
"Uhm..Lyra? Lyrie….Ly?! Why aren't you replying? Was it that terrible? Is this perhaps not the right time? Why are you tearing up?! Love, are you alright?! Oh dear Merlin! I shouldn't hav- " Cedric begins nervously
"Oh would you do me a favor and shut up for a split second Diggory?" Lyra asks as Cedric stops his incoherent nervous ramble halfway
"You get to ramble out an entire speech, give me less than a minute to comprehend all of it and just continue rambling on and making illogical assumptions?" Lyra asks rhetorically as she quickly wipes a few careless tears that fell on her cheeks.as Cedric remains silent.
"Why?" Lyra asks clearing her throat breaking the short lived silence
"Why as in?" Cedric asks, a bit confused
"Why..do you want to marry me?" Lyra asks barely above a whisper
"YOU'RE asking ME why do I want to marry you?! I prepared an entire written speech and practiced it in front of the mirror...more times than I can count only to forget half of it..but the point is that my speech covered up all the reasons I love you and I just..Lyra..You just matter so much to me and I just thought that it'd be the right time to bring this up...but I guess it wasn't..." Cedric replies as he looks down, a disappointed sigh escapes his lips.
"I- -I-- I'm sorry for making this awkward.. let's just go home.." Cedric replies as he runs his hand through his hair
Lyra walks up to Cedric as she crouches down. She softly lifts his chin with her hand as her gaze fixates onto Cedric.
"Hey it's fine..you don't need to- -" Cedric begins his tone upset, his eyes gleam with a tint of pain.
Lyra rolls her eyes as she presses her lips against his..cupping his cheeks, Cedric's face heating up in the process. Lyra pulls away as she presses her forehead softly against his.
"What..are- -" Cedric whispers, his heart pacing quickly
"Can I at least talk now?" Lyra whispers as he nods softly
"I..well..this..your speech..I'm moved. It's just..I'm not used to this..Okay? Well you see, I'm- -I'm..I'm just awestruck with how much effort you put into it..and all of it.. just for me? No one has done so..much for me." Lyra says as she clears her throat
"Why wouldn't I? You mean so much to me!" Cedric replies.
"Are you absolutely sure you want to marry..me?" Lyra asks softly, her face brimming with a mixture of both doubt and confusion
"Of course I am..I always have and always will love you and ONLY you Lyra. I've never been more sure about anything else." Cedric replies, his eyes brimming with sincerity "I understand if you aren't ready for it.." Cedric adds as he presses her hand in assurance.
"Yes.." Lyra replies a bit too quickly
"It's completely alri- -wait..what?" Cedric asks, his tone laced with confusion.
"I do want to marry you...but only if you're sure..and only if you're ready to tolerate me.."
"More like you tolerating me..but whatever you say love.." Cedric replies chuckling lightly
"But are you like..sure sure? Maybe you don't really want to marry me? Maybe I'm a bit too much for you? Maybe- " Cedric begins again nervously as Lyra shuts him up again with a kiss, a small smile on his nervous face
"Lyra I don't want to force you into getting married as such. It's completely your de---" Cedric begins again as Lyra interrupts him again with a kiss
"Lyra would you - -" Cedric begins again as Lyra presses a kiss onto his lips shutting him up for a brief second
"Don't you get it? Why do you have second thoughts about my answer? I said yes..and when I say yes..I mean it. So the more you try to let in your doubts consume you and ask me if I'm absolutely sure with my decision, I'll keep interrupting you until you decide to finally shut up and accept my answer!" Lyra states as she gives him a firm look.
"Lyra..I love - -" Cedric begins as Lyra presses a kiss onto his lips again, earning a cheeky smirk from Cedric
"Okay...that was impulsive. I'm sorry for that. You can be such a manipulative jerk sometimes you know?" Lyra replies, her cheeks tinted with a bit of pink
"Don't apologize..it was intentional. And again..I'm a manipulative handsome jerk Lyrie.." Cedric replies as he smiles.
Cedric sits down, Lyra following the same as he opens the small black velvet box, a diamond ring inside it. Cedric takes it out as he takes a hold of Lyra's hand softly.
"So I'm guessing you can make space for another last name too?" Cedric asks, his eyes gleaming with joy.
"Well..I don't mind it." Lyra replies as a small shy pout rests on her face, as Cedric's face beams with a bright smile, as she lets out an unconscious smile.
Cedric lets out a shaky breathe as he looks at Lyra one more time, his grip uneasy on her hand.
"You're sure right? Once I- -" Cedric begins as Lyra presses his hand in reassurance.
Cedric nods softly as he slides in the ring onto her finger as Lyra lets out a smile as she stares at the ring. Cedric stands up as he helps her up.
"This..is beautiful. And to think I was annoyed at you for this. I'm sorry I snapped at you..I just didn't know.." Lyra replies looking down
"It wasn't your fault..I was just insensitive. I didn't mean to..I was just really nervous. Really really nervous..But you weren't supposed to..know too. So it's all good." Cedric says as he smiles at her
"It was..good. Really good. I appreciate it. So well I guess..you're stuck with me forever.." Lyra replies
"Well..You're stuck with me too so I guess we're even..I love you."
"I love you too Badger.."
"I love you more Stargirl.."
"I love you the most pretty boy."
"Damn you're absolutely right about the pretty part!" Cedric replies cheekily
"I said petty.."
"No you didn't.."
"Well..whatever. But seriously how many times did you have to rehearse that speech?" Lyra asks curiously
"Oh..let's not go to that now..Literally spent a solid week or two trying to rehearse it in front of the mirror..The confidence I possessed there was..immense. But the moment I had to..say all that in front of you..I lost all of my confidence but somehow I made it through. Pure luck and a bit of practice perhaps." He replies
"It was a rather..unique proposal." Lyra comments
"Oh..well I tried." Cedric admits as he rubs his neck awkwardly
"And also..for the record, I practically love you more" Cedric replies
"You wish you did! I'll hex you right here, right now..and prove you wrong you - -" Lyra begins as Cedric leans down a bit and interrupts her with a kiss.
He pulls away for a split second as his gaze fixes on to Lyra.
"You were saying?" Cedric teases as he looks at now flustered Lyra.
"Shut up and kiss me.." Lyra mumbles as she looks away.
"Gladly.." Cedric cups her face with both his hands as he presses his lips against hers.
A/N: I’ll be a very evil person and tell you that the reason for the title. Well, in accordance to my Harry Potter Fanfic, it follows the same plot line as such (but the only difference is that, this is set in a post Hogwarts time line. So, Cedric does die in the Triwizard but this is kind of like an AU sorta thing which would have happened if Lyra and Cedric had a bit more time together. The original ship in the fanfic is Harry Potter x Lyra. So..I’m sorry?
#harry potter#harry potter oc#harry potter moodboard#harry potter edit#cedric#cedric diggory#Lyra lestrange#Lyra#cedric x oc#fluff#angst#hufflepuff#slytherin#W&W300wc
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
BTHB: Childhood Trauma
Rose is requested, Origami Rose is filled! As a reminder, anyone can request any square, any universe, and any OC! Currently I have no open BTHB requests right now, so request whatever you like!
This one was a little tough, because Nerali’s my darling in Wergild, but she doesn’t really have childhood trauma. (I mean she has it, but like the normal amount that everyone has. Not particularly whumpy.) I was similarly stalled on how to continue Wergild. Then I decided that while whumping Nerali is very fun, by the end of The Price arc, she’s surrounded by people who are trying to protect her, so it was probably time for some comfort. And for me to shift my sights elsewhere, because emotional whump is very fun and that way I can show Nerali’s recovery while still having whump.
This is the childhood trauma that will be explored further in The Cost arc, because I kept writing but it ran away from me (which is no big surprise by now). I hope you enjoy! (And thanks for the center square pick!)
Masterlist. Wergild. (Tagging @whumps-the-word for Wergild!verse.)
~#~#~#~#~#~
There was once a boy made of fire and ash and raindrops and smoke who couldn’t make sparks from his fingers. Everyone told him it was okay, that he’d learn, that there were years and years to figure out spark-making and wind-blowing and rain-dancing and ground-shaking, but he heard them whisper when his back was turned.
‘It’s such a disappointment,’ they gossiped.
‘Look at his sister,’ they murmured.
‘If he doesn’t get powerful enough…’ they hummed, speaking in meaningful pauses and slight hesitations.
The boy understood enough. He needed power. And he needed it fast.
He knew better than to ask his parents. The boy was young, but he wasn’t stupid. Some of the others were, the ones who tutted over him and snickered behind their hands when he failed. But the boy knew better.
He went first to his sister. His sister was powerful, and growing stronger every day. She was as fiery as a bonfire, as raging as a waterfall, as fierce as a tornado, and as thunderous as an earthquake. Surely she had cracked the secrets of the flames and winds and rain and mud. Surely she could whisper in his ear and help him grow stronger.
But his sister gave him only a weary smile in between lessons. ‘Practice,’ she said, ‘Practice makes perfect.’
The boy had tried practice. The boy had no time for practice.
He went next to the wise woman of the well. The wise woman knew all the secrets, she had cultivated each one over the years. The wise woman listened to the flames crackle and the water burble and the wind roar and the earth creak. Surely she had collected some of their secrets. Surely she could whisper in his ear and help him grow stronger.
But the wise woman gave him only a cackle and a shake of the head. ‘This answer you do not want,’ she said, ‘And you should not seek it.’
The boy had not come for riddles. The boy had no time for riddles.
He went last to the older warriors of the tribe. The warriors had spent years and years in training, but they were young once, like him. They burned with fire and swam with water and flew with air and stood with earth. Surely they had figured out the tricks. Surely they could whisper in his ear and help him grow stronger.
But the warriors gave him only a laugh and a firm shove out of their training grounds. ‘You are too young for these questions,’ they said, ‘Listen to the elements and find your own way.’
The boy had not come for condescension. But the boy left with an answer.
It was impossible to listen to the elements at home. There was one interruption after another – his lessons, his sister, his siblings, his parents. He could barely start listening before someone drew him away for another task. And so the boy realized that there was only one thing left to do.
The boy needed to listen to the elements. And he could best do that in the forest.
So the boy left for the forest, slipping out from under not-too-watchful eyes. The boy stepped on the ground and listened as it shivered under his feet. The boy felt the wind ruffle his clothes and listened as it curled around his fingers. The boy dipped his fingers in the stream and listened as it rushed across his palm. The boy basked under the sun and listened as the heat warmed his skin.
And listened to the sound of voices, rough and cracking, amused and laughing, as a group of boys stumbled upon the riverbank.
They were boys still, but much older than the boy practicing on the riverbank. From the boy’s point of view, they were men.
The boy didn’t like that they didn’t have a swirl of color on the inside of their wrists. The boy didn’t like that they outnumbered him six times over. The boy didn’t like that they stopped pushing each other and laughing when they caught sight of him, when the smiles shifted to something more predatory.
‘It’s a rainbow boy,’ one of them said, eyes curious and intense, ‘So far from home.’
The boy could not call the elements to protect him. The boy ran.
It was the wrong thing to do.
The boys men gave chase, whooping and laughing. They were faster than the rainbow boy. They caught up to him in minutes and laughed as they sent him sprawling with a sharp kick.
The boy had run out of time.
They attacked him until they tired of that, until he lay still and bleeding and bruised, with a chest full of splinters and the taste of iron on his tongue. They laughed again as he shook on the ground, unable to listen, unable to think. Then they pushed him into a ravine.
The boy heard them leaving and curled up as much as he dared. The boy could not climb out of the ravine. The boy could only shiver on the ground as the skies cracked open and the rain began, quickly chilling him to the bone. The boy was stuck, the boy was trapped, the boy was alone and no one would look for him and no one would find him.
The boy needed power. The boy choked on that need, on the rising fear and panic and madness as he got colder and colder. The boy needed power like a dying man needed water and he gasped and gasped and gasped until –
The boy learned how to listen to the elements that day.
The boy understood the value of practice, of time, of hard work.
The boy understood the danger of taking shortcuts.
The boy understood he was younger and smaller and so he would have to be stronger.
There was once a boy of fire and ash and raindrops and smoke who learnt that there was always a price for power.
(He learnt other things as well. Memories that stayed in his bones, fears that never truly went away, cracks that never healed even as the armor grew stronger and thicker. He was powerful. But there was always someone stronger.)
#whumpfic#badthingshappenbingo#childhood trauma#wergild#attacked#beaten#minor character whump#request fill
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
🍁 Year in Review 🍄
Tagged by: @samwise-babeyy
Rules: Answer the questions about 2020 and tag some people to pass it on!
All my answers are basically “out of date” because I don’t actually keep up with anything new, so I’m just listing the stuff I listened to or watched in 2020 the most, or for the first time.
🍁 5 favorite films you watched in 2020
i. Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning
ii. Predator
iii. Rob Roy
iv. Texas Chainsaw Massacre
v. Black Christmas
🍄 5 favorite tv shows you watched in 2020
i. Mandalorian
ii. Cells at Work
iii. Beastars (listen...)
(That’s all I watched)
🍁 5 favorite songs you listened to in 2020
i. Green Bus - Innocence Mission
ii. Deep Sea - Oh Land
iii. Sky Blue - Peter Gabriel
iv. Reincarnation - Susanne Sundfør
v. Avalanche - Leonard Cohen
[BONUS] vi. Saturn Swallows the Sun - Ghost Twin
🍄 5 favorite albums of 2020
i. Oceanborn - Nightwish
ii. Plastic Heart - Ghost Twin
iii. Prequelle - Ghost
iv. Children of Termina - Rozen
v. American IV: The Man Comes Around - Johnny Cash
🍁 5 favorite books you read
i. Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein
ii. The Shadow over Innsmouth
iii. The Call of Cthulhu
(Technically they were audiobooks lmao...and that’s all I listened to)
🍄 How did you spend your birthday this year?
The same as usual...I stayed at home with my parents and brothers, ordered a cake from Dairy Queen, and opened up a couple of presents that I’m always surprised to get. Ironically, my dad got me a Predator Funko Pop because of this inside joke that we’d had at the time, but then I actually saw the movie like a month later and now I thirst.
🍁 What was your most memorable day this year?
When a friend of mine said “Hey you should meet this guy I know” and I finally reluctantly agreed, and now I’m in love.
🍄 What was your most memorable meal you had this year?
Well...I’ve had a few memorable ones for bad reasons, mostly because of my recovery. But the only one I can think of that was memorable, and happy, was the meal my family had for Christmas. We all ordered our own takeouts of choice, and it was awesome tbh. Very lowkey, which is what I prefer with holidays. Everyone had a nice time.
🍁 Did you find any new hobbies or interests in quarantine?
I did bake cookies a few times. Prior to this year I’d only baked once, and it was not great. Definitely not a natural born baker lol. But I did make cookies and found it very enjoyable.
I also tried to make a donut in Blender...and I did ok, but my computer doesn’t like to run the program so I abandoned it after putting on the sprinkles.
I also drew a comic for my OC, but I still haven’t posted it anywhere bc I forget it exists.
🍄 What was the last big/event you remember doing before Covid?
Valentine’s Day I guess?? Idk I don’t really care for it much tbh. I also watched Cats ironically, and it was honestly one of the funniest experiences I’ve ever had, because of the other audience members.
🍁 5 good/positive things that happened to you in 2020
i. I met my future husband (jk but not really)
ii. I appreciate things more that I didn’t beforehand.
iii. I made it through an entire year of ED recovery (yay!!!)
iv. I got into slasher stuff, which while it’s had a few downs, has mostly been ups. It’s been the most fun I’ve had in years.
I legit can’t think of anything else. My life is mostly just kinda boring these days tbh.
🍄 Biggest messages or lessons learnt from this year
Don’t underestimate how important hugs are.
It’s ok to eat cookies. And it’s ok to not eat if you’re not hungry.
Pay attention to the people you care about, because even if you think you know everything about them...you don’t.
If you’re worried about something, and you don’t see yourself being worried about it in a week, then it’s probably not a big deal.
🍁 And what are you most looking forward to in 2021?
I am scared to look forward to anything, in general. I just sort of go day by day every year...even without the virus stuff. It’s easier on my anxiety.
Plus I started the year literally crying my eyes out, and then woke up sick the next day...so my expectations are low lmfao.
@ everyone...everyone I was gonna tag has already been tagged lol
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Growing Pains...
Chapter 3! Thank you to everyone giving this fic a chance :) it means so much.
PS. I’m sorry if the punctuation isn’t really as it’s supposed to be. I’m kind of writing this for my own fun so I’m maybe not being as eagle-eyed as I should be. Hope that’s okay :)
Summary: Emmy has been with the gang since she was a little girl. Her mother moved on, leaving her to be raised by Dutch, Hosea and Susan. Arthur and John are her brothers (argue and she will fight you). Becoming a woman is hard when everyone still sees you as a child. Since the Blackwater mess she’s trying to find her feet while dealing with her new feelings for the gangs resident douchebag.
Pairing: None yet, eventual Micah x female OC.
Warnings: Swearing, Minor mention of blood (they’re outlaws after all), One racist comment.
Chapter 3
After a couple of seconds, I decide to risk a small disappearing act. I won’t technically be leaving camp and I’m pretty sure Dutch is arguing with Molly so that gives me at least 15 minutes.
I walk in the direction Micah took into the trees and follow the minor path of destruction. Broken twigs, scattered leaves and the odd drop of blood. When Charles joined us all those months ago, he gave me some tips on animal tracking. Finding a wounded Micah seems like nothing compared to that.
I walk out of the trees onto a small strip of dirty beach. There’s a tent and some scattered belongings around a small, dead campfire. I don’t have to look far to see Micah. He’s kneeling down near the water splashing his face. Even from this distance I can see that Javier got him real good. His red shirt is hanging open and his pale trousers are soaked with water and splashes of blood.
I figure that startling a man like Micah isn’t the best thing for anyone so I make sure he hears me approach. I wear a shorter skirt than the other girls, having it come down to my knees, but I’ve fashioned the bottom of a union suit into cut off trousers for underneath. To protect my ‘modesty’ as the men put it. This means I’m able to move a lot quieter than those heavy skirts allow and have more freedom to move about than trousers give. Susan thinks what I wear is, to quote, “something a street urchin would wear”.
While moving towards Micah I make sure to step onto some twigs with my boots to create a loud crutch. His head suddenly snaps in my direction and I can see his eye is already starting to swell.
“Mr Bell”, I greet. I really didn’t have any plan after tracking him down so I just wait. He turns away and shakes his head. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s annoyed or to rid his moustache of excess water. That thought makes me giggle to myself at the worst possible time.
“Somethin’ funny girl?” he snaps while getting to his feet and striding over to me. I wipe the smile from my face and try to keep my eyes from his chest.
“No, Mr Bell. Nothing funny about any of this.” I say while gesturing to his injured face. His nose has stopped bleeding but he’s done a terrible job of cleaning the blood away. He storms past me to his makeshift camp and sits down, taking a swig of something from a bottle. No idea what it is but it isn’t whiskey I can tell that much.
“So why you followin’ me? I don’t need no stitches.” he snorts.
“I know. I came to give you this, you left it back at camp.” I walk over to where he’s sitting and hand him his letter. He spits onto the ground next to him and snatches it from me.
“You make a habit outta readin’ people’s private things?” he snarls but winces as he tugs too much on the drying blood dotted about his face. I sigh and sit down next to him. “No, Mr Bell, I didn’t read it. I did however see your name and thought you’d like it back. Now ain’t that nice of me?” I say while pouring some alcohol onto a rag poking out from his tent. His only response is a cautious “hmm” while watching my actions with confusion.
I scoot closer to Micah but before I place the rag on his face I stop and look him dead in the eyes, “What was that?” I ask expectantly.
Micah averts his eyes from mine and clears his throat. “That was nice of ya” he says.
“Not quite the response I was hopin’ for but it’ll do.” I reply while gently running the rag over his face, cleaning up the blood I can get to without pushing too hard. “Now,” I continue “what happened with Javier?”.
Micah tries to wrench his face away from the rag but I grip onto the other side of his face with my free hand. Up close I can see how blue his eyes are. A real pale blue, like a frozen lake. Not a bad colour. “Well?” I ask without stopping my cleaning.
“Nothin’ happened.” he snapped and succeeded in pulling himself out of my grip. I see him scrunch the letter in his hand and I pretty much put two and two together.
“Now, Mr Bell,” I say with my sternest voice. Something I’ve learnt from Susan. But before I can carry on Micah interrupts me. “Mr Bell, Mr Bell. The names Micah girl. You know it, use it.” he mumbles at me. I can’t help but smile.
“Alright, Micah, I think it’s safe to say that I’m not afraid of you.” I continue and notice the way his eyes jump to mine when I say ‘afraid’. “Please let me clean your face because Lord knows no one else will help you. Aaand before you start, I know, I know. You don’t neeeed anyone to help you but I’m already here so.” I gesture towards his face with the rag and he begrudgingly moves back to his previous position.
I know whatever is in that letter set him off this morning but I also know men like Micah Bell. If he doesn’t want to talk about it, he won’t. I’ve listened to him night after night talking a lot but rarely ever saying much.
“How long you been with Dutch?” he asks all of a sudden and I take the rag to wet it some more as I think. “Umm, somethin’ like 11/12 years. Came in with my ma and pa.” I tell him. I know full well that I can’t get him to open up if I don’t but I’m certainly not going to pour my heart out to him straight away.
I return to gently scrubbing his face and holding my other hand against his cheek. For a moment he closes his eyes and leans into my touch. Why can’t I stop doing this? The quiet only lasts for a moment before I can’t find any other blood to clean. Micah must sense my hesitation because he opens up his eyes and pulls away.
“What happened, they die?” he blurts out and I can’t help but laugh at his bluntness.
“He did. She just, left” I shrug and toss the rag away. “So, you wanna tell me what bothered you enough to jump on Javier?”. I cross my legs and lean towards him. Hosea always said body language was key to gaining someone’s trust, so I tried to look as settled as possible, to let Micah know that I was in for the long haul. I could wait all day.
“Look, the greas..” he starts, but I finish.
“No.” That language does not fly with me.
Micah looks considerably taken aback and I can see by his smirk that he wants to push me. So, he tries. “Whaaat the word ‘greaser’ bothers you?” he laughs.
I know what he’s doing. Deflect, deflect, deflect. I won’t bite. When I don’t respond he just curses under his breath and changes the topic back to the letter.
“Letters from my brother, Amos.” He starts while fishing a cigarette out of his pocket. He lights a match on his boot and tosses it once its done its job.
“Fuckin’ boy lives by the sea. What kinda man wants to live by the sea!?” he says sternly.
I don’t say anything but I know his eyes follow me as I slowly look out to the vast stretch of water in front of us. “Yeah, who would want that?” I reply, smiling at him. He mumbles that it’s not the same and carries on.
“He’s pathetic. A ‘family man’ now he says. Pathetic.” he says before he takes a long inhale of his cigarette. “Don’t know why I even bothered.” he finishes with a puff of smoke.
“Bothered doing what?” I ask and Micah tosses the letter to me which I start to read. “Oh, you wrote to him first?” I watch Micah nod before I carry on reading. When I finish, I fold the letter back up and hand it to him. He doesn’t take it, keeping his eyes downcast, so I put it down next to him.
“He doesn’t want me around his girls.” He says quietly after a moment. He flicks his finished cigarette out onto the dirt and turns to put his hat on, pulling the brim down so his face is almost shielded from me. “I, I ain’t good. But. I ain’t that…..I ain’t that.” His voice is soft. Sad even.
If I’m completely honest with myself I don’t know how I feel about what he’s just said. I mean I know a bit about his dad. Was a right son of a bitch. “Evil” Dutch would say. But I’ve never actually had to consider if any of the men I run with would hurt children. Do I believe that the man next to me, the man I patched up, would have hurt me all those years ago had he been given the chance?
My gut, and his unhappiness at this very moment, tells me no.
“I don’t think you would” I say shifting closer to him “I mean you’re a grumpy asshole but I’ve never worried about you around Jack….well, maybe because of your language and the knife tricks but that goes for everyone around here.” I finish, trying to lighten the mood. It doesn’t work.
Micah nobs but doesn’t look up.
“My old man woulda chucked that kid in the lake. Sink or swim kinda lesson.” He mumbles and looks up at me as I laugh quietly to myself. I catch him looking at me and stop smiling. “Sorry. Just I think that’s why John is afraid of the water. Arthur told me Dutch did the same sorta thing.” I explain.
“Dutch ain’t like my old man. Scar..…Marston would be dead if he ran with old Micah Bell II” he scoffs.
“Wait? You’re Micah Bell III?” I just can’t help giggling around this man “You Bell’s are some kinda outlaw royal dynasty” I say while bumping my shoulder against his. He chuckles. Actually chuckles. No mockery at all.
It’s so nice to hear him laugh.
“Ooh yeah. Why do you think I live so proper like?” he says, finally making eye contact as he gestures to our surroundings. We both take a moment to soak up the break in tension.
In this moment, sitting here face to face with Micah Bell, I feel kind of, brave. Brave enough to keep running my mouth anyway. “If it means anythin’, I meant what I said. I don’t believe you’d hurt those girls…..but you can’t blame him for wantin’ somethin’ of a better life for ‘em. What we do ain’t exactly safe.”
Micah looks thoughtful for a second before leaning in close. His breath is warm against my face and I really hope I’m not blushing as much as I think I am. “No, not safe at all….but it sure is fun ain’t it” he whispers while breaking out into a wide toothy grin.
He’s actually handsome when he isn’t scowling.
Before I can say anything, Dutch’s voice cuts through our comfortable silence. “EMMYYY!?” he shouts.
I throw myself backwards onto the ground out of frustration, “God DAMMIT. I ain’t a fucking child!!!” I growl.
“You betta get goin’ there sweetheart. Don’t want ya daddy bringing the hammer down” Micah laughs. I smile at him and pull myself, begrudgingly, to my feet. I take myself back a few steps towards the trees before I turn around. Micah is still watching me. Why’s he watching me?
“Look. You ain’t gotta apologise to Javier. I know sorry isn’t in your vocabulary” I laugh and luckily so does he “but I dunno. Offer him a drink later. I’ve seen you both after a couple bottles of whiskey. The besta friends”.
Micah nods. “Okay. Okay I’ll do that.”
I smile and carry on walking towards Dutch’s hollering with the stupidest smile on my face.
I really need to talk to Sean.
#red dead redemption imagine#red dead redemption online#red dead redemption x reader#red dead redemption two#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption arthur#red dead 2 gameplay#red dead oc#red dead redemption community#red dead redemption 2 fandom#red dead redemption fandom#rdr2#rdr2 fandom#rdr2 edit#rdr2 oc#rdr2 online#rdr2 ofc#rdr2 original female character#micah bell#micah bell x reader#rdr2 micah#micah bell x fem oc#arthur morgan#john marston#dutch van der linde#van der linde gang#sean macguire#susan grimshaw#javier escuella#rdr2 fanfic
27 notes
·
View notes
Note
🐟 and 💚 for Isa and Livia!!
Ok so THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR THE QUESTIONS, i had so much fun writing this!! And also, as you can see, i got a bit carried away and wrote veery long answers that even got a bit fanfic-ish jdntjdntj so thank you even more for breaking my curse of writer's block 💙💙💙
🐟: What was your OC like as a baby? What were they like as a child? A teenager? An adult? How do you think they'll develop ten years into their future? Twenty years? Will they live to an old age?
Isa: she was lively and loud as a baby, always craving attention and messing around. It didn't change much while she was growing up - with mostly absent parents, she countinued being as mischievous as possible, running around her family's estate and giving servants headaches.
It was her teenage years that truly changed her, since as a young heir to a rather wealthy Breton family she had many expectations thrown on her. It was also then when she started questioning her gender identity and fully embraced that she's a girl. Her parents promised her that one day they will fund her transition, but only under the condition that she will fulify their every wish. So, she tried and tried to become what they wanted her to be, but ended up failing every time. She couldn't embrace the noble lifestyle with all it's sophistication and unhonesty, she couldn't become a great mage who would continue her family's tradition, she couldn't handle the army's discipline... Her parents got more controlling and demanding with her every unsuccesful attempt to reach their expectations, and she became more insecure and started believing that she was just as pathetic and weak as they described her.
She stayed under their absolute influence until the age of 25 - when she finally had enough and, motivated by a bottled up anger, stole a lot of their valuable belongings and ran away. During her young adult days, for the first time in many years, she actually had a possibility to decide who she was really, but at the same time she felt so, so lost, because beyond very basic values she lost the sense of herself while chasing after her parents' dreams.
She had to find it again - and it was a long, tough way.
When she escaped the imperial prison, after avoiding the death she was certainly not ready for, she came to a rather sad conclusion that she still didn't know who she truly was: but she knew what she wasn't.
She wasn't particularily brave - any louder sound gave her a heart attack and she definitely didn't handle the blade well, but the rushes of fear and adrenaline she got in dangerous situations mostly helped her make it out alive.
She wasn't a liar, not anymore - she lived out of deception for a long time and it eventually led to her downfall, so she swore to herself to stay as honest as possible.
She wasn't strong - she broke down, gave up, ran away. But beyond everything, she wasn't a quitter - a longing to live, to survive long enough to experience some peace, kept her going.
Ten years later, she mourned this unstoppable woman.
After the fateful last day of the third era, she returned to the Shivering Isles, the place she did visit before, but was saved from by the purpose she still had - assisting in saving the Empire from the Daedra. It felt like the easiest thing to do, mantling Sheoghorath, though she still didn't completly loose herself, not until her daughter died.
Death surrounded her, but she stayed untouched by it - rather a good ending for a person so desperate to stay alive, right?
Livia: alll the way growing up, she was a quiet, humble girl, more willing to stay inside and study all day than to play with other kids. Raised in Bravil by her father, Mara's priest, she quickly learnt how unfortunate some people are, and with his asistance she could often be seen tossing coins to local beggers. Her life turned upside down after his unexpected death; her mother, who arrived at the city strangely in time, took her to her new family in Hammerfell.
Her stepfather and his son were rather out of the picture, given their high ranks in the Imperial Legion, which gave her mother the biggest influence on Livia - just as she planned. The girl often didn't quite understand the lessons given to her in secret, about Sithis, the Night Mother, the Void, their family's heritage, about the unfulified duty... But she listened.
With years, she grew more familiar with all the concepts, with the idea of killing in the name of a deity - the idea so different from the one she knew when she was younger. While studying theory, she also practiced fighting, to become a silent, obedient, deadly weapon just as expected.
Then, not a long time after she turned 17, she was sent to the Imperial City, to some distant relative, where she was supposed to learn how to "blend in", as her mother described it. While still rather cold and sharp, she started using her wits and charms for her advantage, guided by her upstate aunts and cousins. She got quite used to this lifestyle and after a few years she could be easily mistaken for a wealthy born young lady.
Yet, she did not forget her past, and the information of her mother's death shock her deeply.
She was instructed to go to Skyrim in a last letter from her, but it was where the clues ended; she had to make her own decisions in a cruel and an unknown world. Luckily for her, she was a quick learner; with little to no guidance, she rather hurtfully realised when to use a blade, and when to use words.
With the world trembling down, with the indescribeable responsibility on her shoulders, with people coming and leaving, she didn't have time to be soft - she was all power, all rage.
At the beginning, she tried to stay on her own, just like she had for most of her life, but, in the end, she got people she could rely on, and slowly stopped being the lone warrior the ballads described her as.
Her future is indefinite and blurry, but I like to imagine she gets to find some peace eventually.
💚 Are you writiny anything with this OC or planning on writing anything for them? Do you rp with them or are they just for fun to mess around with?
I actually do have a couple of short stories started for the both of them, and ideas for even more!! And since my writer's block is slowly but surely wearing off, i might actually finish some of them soon 👀
#the elder scrolls#tes oc#oblivion#skyrim#hero of kvatch#the last dragonborn#seriously thank you so much i owe you my firstborn child#💙💙💙#ver's ocs
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
A psychological analysis of fanfiction: why writing can be a great way to self-reflect and process trauma
Back in high school I remembered my English teacher saying that books in general can be categorized into two types: windows and mirrors. Windows are something that show you another world, whether it be giving you a glimpse into a culture you are unfamiliar with or a book that lets you walk in the shoes of someone whose identity is different to you. Mirrors are something that reflects the current reality, forces us to inspect ourselves at our very best and very worse. Of course, there isn’t a hard line between these two types but this analogy stuck with me for years and years.
Now, I’m actually a published poet irl although novel writing is still something that is beyond me. Still, my experiences in writing had reaffirmed that in every piece and character that I create, I always inject a part of me into it. It may just be a small sliver, but you need an ounce of sincerity in your fictional creation should you wish to make them feel realistic.
I thought writing casual fanfiction might be different. I mean, fanfiction is fun, it’s a safe space, an open world sandbox for you to play around in. When it comes to SWTOR, my characters are mostly an escapist fantasy. In the current fic I’m writing (which I don’t think I’ll ever publish unless I manage to polish it up one day), Yennevyr Dosal is based of Yennefer from The Witcher mixed with a Critical Role AU of Jester Lavorre where she grew up with her mafia boss father, Babenon Dosal, and helped out in his crime syndicate. Yen was fun to write. She was intelligent, spitefully machiavellian, and straight up badass.
But as I started to develop her, flesh out her flaws and motivation, she became real. She became a mirror, an unintentional reflection of the ugly bits of me which I never wanted the world to see.
All her life, Yen had henchmen fighting the dirty battles for her. She’d had bodyguards protecting her. Now, she’s alone. In a scene which I just wrote where her master ‘abandoned’ her in the middle of a stressful mission, her master simply wanted her to prove to him (and to herself) that she was strong enough to survive without depending on anyone else. He wanted to remove her tendency to choose ‘flight’ rather than ‘fight’. He wanted to teach her the difference between self-preservation and cowardice.
Turns out - although I wanted Yen to learn that lesson too - in that scenario, all I managed to write whilst keeping her in character was to make her learn that she was completely and utterly alone. Her master’s tactics had only reinforced how she had no one to turn to, no one she can trust to be there for her and support her when she needed it the most. In my fic, the force is an echo chamber of what you feel, a feedback loop that turns fear into terror, anger in to wrath. His abandonment turned Yen’s anxiety and feelings of being alone - her unaddressed depression from losing everyone she loved and no longer having anyone to rely on - into an all-consuming despair.
Her master had intended for her to have a mental breakthrough, to discover how to siphon power from emotions of yearning, of wanting to win beyond anything else. He pushed her into that not-so-metaphorical corner because he wanted her to feed off that sense of determination and desire to succeed, to truly understand why “through victory, our chains are broken”. Instead, all she learnt was to how to harness that feeling of hopelessness and turn it into a self-destructive source of fragile strength.
I then began writing the scene where Yen’s master - Darth Kharopos - had that ‘oh shit’ realization that yes, he’d make a coward no longer afraid of death but it was only because now, she welcomes it, and is now passively suicidal. Cue Darth Kharopos hurrying to fix the mistake he made. He too had a moment of growth wherein he realized that no matter how much shit he’d been through (which is a lot... you don’t wear an respirator 24/7 and have a bunch of untreatable scars on your face for nothing), it is different and incomparable to what his apprentice is going through.
Whatever he went through, he knew the risk of being Sith, he understood the dangers of his missions and the enemies he may make on his path to power. Yen never had that choice. The life she previously enjoyed was ripped away from her and she was forced to adapt to a new world that rejected her. Moreover, when his first mother passed, he had his father. When his father died, he had his half-sister and second mother. Yen had no one, and she now believed that her master was truly the sink-or-swim type who’d leave her to die alone if it meant that she was unworthy to live in the first place.
He won’t lower his standards for her, but it is irrational to expect her to behave the same way as his other apprentices did when her baseline and theirs were very different. You can’t train an ex-slave the same way you’d train a Sith whose parents taught them to recite the Sith code the moment they could speak.
This, ladies and gentleman, is when I realized I’ve been projecting so hard onto my OCs. All I wanted after going through some bad things was to have the people responsible for those things realize their mistakes and make some attempt at making amends. I wanted those who had hurt me to feel remorse. I wanted people to try and understand, even if they may not be capable of complete empathy. Forgiveness won’t come easily, but I want to believe that people can change for the better, that the cycle of abuse can be ended. That even among such a stereotypically evil faction, there is good. Maybe this is why people like me are drawn towards the more ““ toxic”” and ““problematic”” setting such as the Sith Empire in the first place.
It seems, escapist fantasies can really shine a light on the things you wanted to escape from. 🌹
1 note
·
View note