#mara talks to the void
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Y’all, y’all, I know this is (among many, many other things) the talk-about-your-fanfics site but I physically cannot talk about them without being prompted. However, because I am dying to talk about them, I have decided to do it in the format of an ask game.
What story (stories?) are you writing rn that you’ll most likely publish next? ∩(´∀`∩)
What story (stories?) are you writing rn that will most likely linger in your head for an undetermined period of time? (*´▽`*)
What tropes do you like writing about the most? (´▽`ʃƪ)
Lore dump about the OCs (see tags for options)! (∩˃o˂∩)
One individual fun fact for each OC in the tags. ヽ(‘ ∇‘ )ノ
Longest fic you’ve written (published or not)? ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ
Shortest fic you’ve written (published or not)? ‹•.•›
Fic that is near and dear to your heart? ♡
Top three fics you’ve written (in author’s opinion)? ♡♡♡
Story Moodboard of choice (either you or author picks the story; author makes). (◡‿◡✿)
OC Moodboard of choice (either you or author picks the OC; author makes). ❀☉‿☉❀
Write another line in your WIP (rude, productive, but okay). ◔̯◔
Drop a playlist for a story! ♪♡♪
Umm… yeah, so feel free to reblog to use the ask game yourself!! Fingers crossed all those nervous writers get to lore dump, yeah?
#for purposes published here means put on Ao3/fanfic/tumblr/etc for all to see#Not published like book published#Although good on you if you’ve gotten published-published!!!#I really hope this is how you ask game#Gahhh fingers crossed!!#Anyway; here are my OC options:#mara#kirsi#aay’han#do sole survivors count?#Yeah I’ll have them count#Sole survivors Nate and Nora#Okay admittedly I don’t have a ton of OC options but each of them get me excited to talk and/or write#The crew of the judgement day#woops almost forgot them even tho each and every one is an OC#just yelling into the void#ask#is this how you ask game?#originally i thought you could copy + paste the fun emoji guys but then i realized that was a lot of work so voila! numbers!!
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About bucktommy and 911 in general
You know, in the end, this just feels extremely cheap and cruel.
Showing bucktommy be incandescently happy in all the episodes but 8.6? Even in this ep you can feel how much they care and genuinely love each other. Audience was largely optimistic and excited about them, in a way we have never seen for other buck's LI.
Only to what? Throw it all away because you can't be bothered to write a satisfactory arc for them? Because Buck is the epitome of the guy who dates a lot but always gets broken up with? That to be able to decide if you want to be in a committed relationship if you are bi you have to explore first or else your decision is null and void?
What a way to waste potential and your characters arc.
The special thing about Tommy was that he was beloved by not only bucktommy fans, but GA, and most importantly he was a sort of representation we don't see all that much in media. People loved him because they saw themselves in him, they could connect to his journey and they were genuinely rooting for him to find love and family with Buck. To waste it all away, and to do so by basically throw at us all that we loved about them is unnecessarily cruel.
What hurts the most is that even buck and tommy themselves didn't want to break up. but instead they "must" because bowing down to harmful stereotypes about bi people who are "confused and so they must experiment before settling" is more important than telling a compelling story.
Even without bt break up, I feel like this season took a sharp dive for the worst about well thought storylines in a way that baffles him. Gerrard was reduced to a joke, as was Ortiz, both pgs that could have been used to create compelling arcs that intertwined the 118 even more but instead we got this cheap throwaway joke of a Gerrard, Ortiz was basically throw out of office in a single ep. Hotshot sl could have been fun but instead it's just.... there. And coming back too just for funsies, cause apparently that sl was more important to develop instead of a interesting queer relationship.
Athena once again doing copaganda. Bobby coming back to the 118 without any particular struggle or even guilt about dropping the bag. Things said in interviews that we expect to happen and never even made it to the screen (Eddie's loneliness? Chim and Hen having conflict over Mara? Buck feeling guilty about injuring Gerrard?).
The way Maddie cannot have any sl that is not either tied to a man or about motherhood. Madney having another surprise baby instead of them choosing on purpose to expand their family. Hen & Karen gaining trauma after trauma about their children and not having any other sl that is not tied to that. Josh just existing in the periphery and only becoming important as the "insightful token gay" but not having any type of meaningful screen time since Carson.
The other side characters like Sue, Ravi, Linda, Carla completely disappearing without anyone mentioning them. Ravi has not been given any important sl ever since he talked about having cancer and ever since reduced as a comic relief without anything to add to his character but he's a "landlord".
Chris is out of the picture for who knows how long, and is basically kept around to be traumatized over and over again. Eddie hasn't gotten any character development until first s5 and seemingly now, but i'd argue that the whole thing just felt rushed because what do you mean it takes one chat with a priest for him to do a 180° while he still isn't talking to Chris? And Eddie was the one who got the best treatment of all of them this season.
It's the way this show is slowly chipping itself away. It's the way they start a queer story line promising it would be impactful and handled with care and then half-assing it a best. It's the way the other queer characters are never explored and able to breath and revel in their queerness in the first place. Because, really, when was the last time Hen and Karen kissed on screen? When was the last time they went on a date? When was the last time their arcs were not about children or getting hurt, but just about them as individuals? And on this thread what about Maddie? Or Josh? Or Chim? Or Eddie?
Everything feels reused again and again and again without no real development than then starting the circle all over in half a season.
What a waste.
#evan buckley#tommy kinard#bucktommy#911 abc#evan buck buckely#tevan#eddie diaz#karen wilson#hen wilson#henren#maddie buckley#chimney han#madney#christopher diaz#ravi panikkar#josh russo#bobby nash#athena grant#bathena#911 discourse#911 s8#911 spoilers#911 show#911 season 8#911
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Hello. I was wondering if you could you write a platonic angst story where the reader is Blade's child. I was thinking that because Blade barely spends any time with the reader unless it's during one of their extremely harsh training sessions the reader decides to run away especially after one particularly rough training session where the reader was injured after they accidentally talked back and that night the reader starts packing their stuff but they accidentally left behind their late mother's pendant and Blade found it the next morning. (I hope you're okay with writing this and I wish you a good morning, afternoon or good night ☺️)
Family.
A/n: Hello Anon!! Thank you for your request!! I am so sorry this took so long- school + extracurriculars started so I had way less time to work on writing outside of school (TvT) But this was so much fun to write! I got a little bit carried away and it ended up being a found family type thing with all of the Stellaron Hunters– I tried to focus on Blade being a father figure as much as possible though! I hope you have a fantastic day, and I hope you enjoy!! ૮꒰ ˶• v •˶꒱ა ♡
Warnings: all relationships are platonic, found family trope, betrayal, suicidal ideation (Blade), mentions of death, reader's parents are dead, flashbacks, reader runs away, mention of bullets + broken glass, overthinking, Blade being insecure, reader uses a sword, reader gets injured a couple of times (If i forgot anything, please let me know!!)
Genre: angst, slight fluff
Pairing: father figure!Blade x gn!child!reader (PLATONIC), mother figure!Kafka x gn!child!reader (PLATONIC), sister figure!Silver Wolf x gn!child!reader (PLATONIC)
Word count: 7.3k
Blade is a cruel man.
There is no love in the red pools of his irises, no signs of any humanity. Dark circles adorn the skin just below his merciless stare, eyebrows slightly furrowed in an eternal state of aggravation. It was no wonder enemies cowered at the mere mention of him. He holds nothing back, and if an enemy was unfortunate enough to meet the steely edge of his sword, they were sure to be broken and lifeless by the end of the encounter. Unfortunately, he isn’t much different off of the battlefield either.
Blade is bitter and selfish and cold, to the extreme that even Kafka and Silverwolf are convinced that he has forgotten how to feel.
The thorns of the mara in his veins torment him constantly, the pain never faltering, even after decades. The other Stellaron Hunters had begun to wonder if those thorny, agonizing vines had punctured through his heart as well. It would be understandable, to an extent. After all, he is a man who has experienced endless with suffering and loss, his mind poisoned with grief and the sole desire to die. No more pain, no more fighting, just darkness- the mere thought was enough to drag a bitter smile out of him.
He was used to the dark, used to feeling like an empty vessel.
But why, if he was so familiar with agony, would he impose that same feeling on you as well?
You had always been alone. You were only a toddler when your parents were taken from you, the only proof of their existence being a necklace your mother left with you before she died. You had spent your youngest years void of any parental guidance, hopelessly wandering between foster homes and planets, hoping someone would take you in. You gave that up by age ten, running away from your home planet to travel the galaxy. From that point on, most of your time was spent sneaking onto Starskiffs, hiding in empty cargo compartments on any moving vehicle you could find, and even stealing authorization keys to search occupied space stations, all in search of someone whom you could call family.
But what exactly did the word family mean?
You always thought it was a strange word. It had such a subjective meaning, yet it was talked about so often. You didn’t understand what it meant, and no textbook definition could help you. All your efforts to find its meaning were in vain. And yet, your curiosity haunted you.
With every new destination, the word family buzzed among the crowds constantly. No matter where you had landed yourself, all you could do was spectate. You watched as children laughed and clung to the legs of their guardians, as relatives sobbed in unified grief over flower dressed gravestones, and as teenagers linked arms with each other, growing away from the protective grasps of their parents.
Every planet you traveled to, every dragging, lonely step you took, that sickening, seemingly joyous word that made you feel so isolated was there.
Six months after you had ran away, you went out alone to buy food. It was late at night, and you were preparing to head off to another planet the next day. Luckily, you bumped into a nice shopkeeper earlier who gave you some extra credits because she thought your coat was cool (in reality, she was just worried about you wandering off all alone, but didn't want to pry about your parents' whereabouts). So, you headed out amongst the crowds as you always did, pouch of credits in hand and determination plastered on your face.
But a woman stopped you on the way there and asked why such a young child was wandering around alone at night. She had a little girl with her, who looked no older than you.
She asked you if you had any family she could call to come and get you, with the assumption that you were lost. You couldn't say anything. Instead, you just stared, your wide-eyed gaze pinned on the child that almost mirrored you. Almost. Perhaps if the world were kinder, your eyes could have donned the same innocent, joyful light. One of her hands was encased by her mother’s, while her other hand kindly reached out towards you. A cheerful “hello!” rang through the air as she tried to shake your hand.
You stepped away from her. It was hard to breathe. You had seen all this before. Yet why was it so painful this time?
Internally, you demanded the Aeons to tell you why the truth of your situation had to be rubbed in your face so blatantly. You were alone. You wondered if it might be good to explain that to them, to create some kind of connection with these people, but no words would leave your throat. Your heart felt like it was splintered in two.
You didn’t know how long you stood there staring, but you were sure the devastation tearing you up inside was evident on your face. The woman called out to you one more time, her worry falling on deaf ears as you backed away slowly. You took one more look at the girl before turning on your heel and running as fast as you could, sobs wracking your chest so deeply it hurt.
You hadn’t returned to that planet since then.
You wanted the life that little girl had. You wanted to have a guardian.
But as the years went on, nothing changed. Your travels continued, and you came to terms with the fact that you might never know what family felt like. You made acquaintances as you traveled, friends, even. They never stuck around for long, though. The darkness always swallowed them up one way or another. And with every loss, the painful void in your chest numbed and steeled over a little more.
You thought that your life would always be this way. In truth, you had forgotten that there was any other way to live.
However, that was before a certain group of Stellaron Hunters swept you away from your life of solitude, and recruited you into their dangerous yet thrilling world.
A year later, you found yourself on a sand covered planet. You were on a train, heading to one of the planets' larger cities from a smaller town. There wasn’t any way you walk- it was too hot and the distance was too far. Otherwise, you would have spent your savings on something other than train tickets.
The trip was uneventful and for most of it you just stared blankly out the window, exhaustion and boredom settling in your bones. You were tired from running errands for the previous town's residents- it was onerous but it happened to pay well. Though you were happy to have a break, your mind wasn’t used to the quiet. The barren landscape outside did nothing to help. It was a dry, flat expanse that was dotted only with dead weeds and the scraps of broken automatons. In short, nothing of interest.
Aside from that, all was going well. You had enough credits to last you at least six more train rides and get food and extra supplies, and you had several acquaintances with whom you could stay in the next city. You made a point not to talk about your budgeting skills, as it would usually spur a torrent of questions from whoever you were talking to. You couldn’t blame them though, children your age typically didn’t devote themselves to a life of aimless travel.
The train stopped right on time, and you stepped onto the platform that was crowded with people. As usual, you were met with the sight of teary-eyed relatives hugging each other, children running around and playing, and couples greeting each other. You kept your head down, feeling more inconvenienced than sad. In their excitement, the crowds always seemed to block your path to the other platforms. Besides, they say time heals all wounds, so why would you care, anyway? You awkwardly shoved your way toward a nearby stairwell, grunting as several people bumped into you. Just as your fingers made contact with the stair’s banister, ear shattering sirens echoed throughout the station.
Emergency lights flashed on and off in a blinding rhythm, the red glow engraining itself into your mind. Suddenly, pixelated bullets flew towards the ceiling, shattering several of the glass panels. Screams rang out in response, and the previously happy crowd flew into a panic, ducking to avoid the broken glass. However, the glass shards evaporated into more pixels before they could hit the crowd, preventing any damage from being done.
Amidst the swarms of people trying to escape, you cautiously walked closer to the source of the commotion. You really shouldn’t have, but the nagging curiosity in the back of your mind compelled you to do so. And even if it seemed dangerous, there was something off about this incident. After all, if the initiators were out for blood, wouldn’t they have attacked the crowd directly? If whoever caused this wasn't intending to cause harm, they must be looking for something.
As you got closer, you saw three figures: A magenta haired woman with lightless eyes, a pistol in one hand, and a glowing thread of purple silk in the other. She was leaning back against one of the platform’s pillars, watching the whole scene with fake amusement. The second person you saw was a smaller girl decked out in a myriad of purples and blues, her drill style ponytail swaying as she typed up coordinates on a hologram screen. And lastly, you saw a red eyed man with a glare so sharp it made your heart sink. You certainly did not want to be subject to whatever rage he had stored away. From the looks of it, he could kill you in a split second.
For some reason, all three of them seemed familiar. You couldn't quite place it, but you quickly realized, you knew who they were. Their faces were plastered on all of the IPC’s wanted posters, which were scattered on literally every planet you had been to so far. You couldn’t remember their names exactly, but you knew that, together, they were known as the Stellaron Hunters- the universe’s most wanted criminals. You should have recognized them from the pixelated bullets earlier- how could you have been so naive?
You could have tried to run, but it would be futile. You were already out in the open, and they had already seen you.
Your eyes widened in sheer panic as the man dressed in black set his gaze on your shaking form. There was no way you’d survive this encounter. Absolutely zero chance. He stepped toward you but was interrupted by the sound of a clanging of a spear. The station’s security officers surrounded the Stellaron Hunters, demanding that they freeze and turn themselves in immediately.
You covered your ears and ducked as a fight broke out, the Stellaron Hunters throwing themselves into battle. Your eyelids were screwed shut in fear until the sounds of fighting had ceased. When you opened your eyes, you looked up to see that all of the guards had been knocked out, and that the taller woman standing above you, watching you in a way that was eerie, yet... comforting somehow. Even so, your better judgment caused you to back away, frantically scrambling on the hot cement of the platform. The red eyed man yanked you to your feet before you could stand up, and a panicked noise left your throat as he dragged you toward his two companions. you caught a glimpse of his sword that was poised in his other hand, taking note that he was ready to strike if necessary.
“It’s a kid.” He grumbled, still glaring at you.
The tall woman chuckled and took a step forward, observing the way you struggled to get out of her companion’s grasp. You were getting more anxious by the second, she could tell. No matter how strong and collected you acted, you were still just a kid, and you had the minimal strength of one.
“Let them go, Blade. I don’t think they mean any harm.”
Small, scared breaths left your throat as you were released, your shaking legs failing to hold you up. You fell to the ground, staring in shock at all that had occurred. What would have happened if they didn’t let you go? How much danger were you really in, and how the hell were you still alive?
Then, the monotone voice of the grey haired girl met your ears.
“What a waste. Looks like those signals were nothing but a glitch.” She sighed. “There's nothing for us here.”
The scary man who grabbed you- Blade, as the woman called him- looked down at you crumpled form, eyes softening just the tiniest bit. Your fearful gaze met his, and you didn’t dare move. The two other hunters made conversation about their next moves in the background, while Blade narrowed his eyes coldly.
“Why aren’t you running?”
…What?
“Go. Lingering here will only bring you suffering”
Your fearful gaze then turned to one of confusion. It was unclear if his words were meant to be a warning or advice. Either way, it gave you the strength to pull yourself off the ground and attempt to respond, but all that came out of you was a strangled groan. Your body hurt, and everything had happened so fast that your mind was still trying to catch up. It wasn’t that you were trying to make an impression by staying, you just couldn’t bring yourself to run because of the adrenaline coursing through you. You hunched over and placed your hands on your knees to get your bearings. After a few minutes, you finally responded.
“Y- yeah, I… uh…” You hesitated, unsure of what to say. “...I have another train to catch...?”
It came out like a question, which was unintended. It was the truth, but you were so nervous that you would say something wrong and provoke him. Your life may have been spared for the moment, but they could still change their minds, and you didn't want to re-dig your own grave.
The man beside you let out a small sigh before turning his gaze back to his two companions.
“Fine.” He muttered.
A few moments passed with you and Blade sitting in comfortable silence. or, it was comfortable him, at least. He was still and silent, ignoring you entirely. You just kept fidgeting the whole time, unsure if you should stay or run for the hills. It was borderline suffocating. thankfully, the tall woman came over again, ending your misery.
“Well, we’re off.” She said to Blade, prompting him to walk towards the edge of the platform where the smaller girl stood. Before walking off, she turned to you one last time.
“Take it easy, kid.”
Something in your heart screamed at you to speak up. A strange urge began eating away at you, telling you that if you didn’t do something right now you’d regret it for the rest of your life. But do what? What could you do without potentially dying? It was stupid. And dangerous.
But that old feeling of longing, that desire to be a part of something wouldn’t leave you alone. Your desperation to attain a family of your own had been reawakened. Your undying hope, which laid dormant for years, was now ruling your judgment.
Just as they turned to leave, you stumbled forward and cried out.
“Wait!”
All three heads turned towards you.
A purple set of eyes knowingly scanned you as you trembled, a smirk growing on the woman’s face.
You anxiously gripped at your clothing, trying to summon up the courage to put on some kind of brave face for them. Before you think, pleas for them to take you with them were spilling from your throat. You told them that you wanted to see the universe and that if they gave you that opportunity, you’d do whatever you could to assist them. It was a partial lie- exploring the universe did sound fun, but it wasn't what you were truly after. Your true motivations were far too personal to tell them just yet. It felt like a wound had unexpectedly reopened ever since they arrived, and you were sure you’d crumble if you forced yourself to explain.
Luckily, you didn’t have to. You had the strangest feeling that they already knew your story to some extent. Even without the influence of your longing, you couldn’t deny that it was the opportunity of a lifetime. It wasn’t every day that you came across three highly skilled fighters who could quickly travel anywhere they wanted. You could save years worth of credits and injuries if you went with them.
Once you had finished your frantic explanation, you took a breath to calm your pounding heart. The silence you were met with was deafening, which you took to be a bad sign. A deep chuckle reverberated through the elegant woman’s chest as she took a decisive step closer to you. She hummed in amusement, holding her hand out for you to take.
“You may not be crucial to our mission,” she leaned down to your height, voice almost a whisper, “but if that’s what you want, then who are we to disagree?”
You took her hand, heartbeat slowing to a calm pace as you did so.
The days you spent with the Stellaron hunters were some of the most peaceful days you had ever experienced.
You weren’t constantly slinking around trying to find information and resources for your travels, and it was the first time you had slept in a room that had officially been dubbed as your own. You weren't hopping between inns and the homes of your few friends. Even expenses weren't an issue anymore. It felt strange to have time on your hands. Guilt inducing, even.
You didn’t get too caught up in that though, since the confusion and questions plaguing your mind happened to be stronger than your melancholy. It was beyond your understanding how three of the most dangerous criminals in the entire universe could be so kind and willing to take you in. Perhaps it was because you had seen too much. You were a witness to Blade knocking out over ten armed guards. However, they were so powerful that they seemed to be able to get away with anything. Either way, you were a part of their goup, and that's what mattered.
As time went on, you grew closer to the Stellaron Hunters. Especially Kafka, who you learned was much less intimidating in regular life, and Silver Wolf, who was still as deadpan as before, but seemed subtly happier with you around. You also were officially introduced to Blade, and were promised that he wasn't always so brooding. That was hard to believe, though.
Silver Wolf was like a sister to you. She dragged you with her everywhere. She said it was a part of your duties to accompany her on errands, but in reality, she just enjoyed having you with her. Whenever a battle presented itself, she would have you on the sidelines cheering for her as she obliterated enemies in the blink of an eye. It was clear that your support went straight to her ego, but she also secretly wanted to impress you so that you'd view her as some sort of mentor. Silver Wolf wanted to be a reliable guide and friend to you, especially after you had been alone for so long. Thankfully, you didn’t mind spending time with her. In fact, chatting and playing video games with her became one of your favorite ways to kill time. The latter was clearly her passion– after all, her combat techniques were solely revolved around her exceptional hacking skills.
Silver Wolf taught you how to play all her favorite games, staying calm and patient with you when you kept losing. Often, she would discreetly take you out to arcades during your free time, and every time it would be humbling due to your lack of gaming experience. However, losing meant that you had more time to watch her win, which was never boring. In any other situation, you might have been jealous, but it was just so mesmerizing to watch her play. Besides, she gave you all her prizes, so you weren’t going to complain. But what you found to be even more amusing was watching her lose it over the few games she hadn’t mastered yet. Her face would contort into one of sheer disbelief and anger as she held onto the machine tightly, aggressively mashing buttons and mumbling insults. You would always laugh and try to cheer her up in response. It always gave her a huge ego boost, and convinced her to try again, despite still being angry. You never expected to gain such a dear friend when you joined the Steallaron Hunters, and you wouldn’t trade any part of your friendship for the world.
Kafka was another story, though.
At first, Kafka terrified you. She held so much power over the other hunters- well, really over everything, that you were sure she’d destroy you if you stepped out of line. Her empty eyes and ruthless reputation didn’t help either.
Ever since your arrival, Kafka kept a close eye on you. She made sure that you were alright as you settled in, and that you weren’t feeling unsafe or lonely in your new environment. She offered you comfort and advice and cared for you like the mothers you had witnessed on your past journeys.
One night, a month after you had arrived, you hurt your leg on a walk and Kafka was right there to patch you up. She shushed you gently as you tried to protest that you were fine, and dragged you to the nearest chair so you could sit. She took a first aid kit from a nearby cabinet, and began tending to your wound. You winced as rubbing alcohol combined itself with your blood, and you quietly explained that you had been doing this your whole life- that it wasn’t her job to take care of you. Kafka paused and looked at you, eyes showing a rare glint of sadness. She whispered to you that those days were over. You weren’t alone anymore, and you should ask the three of them for help whenever you needed it. You weren’t a burden to them.
Kafka wasn’t sure what the cause of it was, but something in her chest began to ache when she saw you injured. She had never felt fear before. She deemed it impossible before you came along. She had always been known as a ruthless, unshakeable force of danger, who would stop at nothing to achieve her goals. But now, she had to keep you safe. Part of her wanted to berate herself for getting so protective over someone, for willingly weakening herself by caring about you. But you needed safety and a group of loving people to return to. You were just a kid, after all, and even after the short time you had been traveling with them, she had begun to feel like your guardian.
Tears filled your eyes, her words weighing down on your lungs. You couldn’t truly believe her. Not after all you had been through. But even so, Kafka was right in front of you, smiling softly, waiting and willing to take care of you. She wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. It was a foreign feeling, one that scared you more than anything else. But you were safe. You were at home.
So you let yourself cry. Your heart split open, all the bottled up agony from your past finally bursting out. You curled into yourself, the gash on your leg long forgotten. Kafka kneeled before you and gently wrapped her arms around your shaking form. One of her hands carded through your hair, while the other rubbed your back soothingly. Gentle whispers fell from her lips, promising you that she was with you. You were safe.
You weren’t sure how long had passed when you calmed down. Maybe it had been hours. Whatever the truth was, Kafka remained by your side, not pulling back until she was sure you were okay. After you had stopped crying, she leaned back, meeting your sad, exhausted stare. She looked down at your bleeding wound, grabbed a roll of bandages, and cautiously wrapped it around your leg. When she was finished, she smiled and stood up, placing a hand on your shoulder. You matched her smile, assuring her that you were fine.
However, after a moment, Kafka’s comforting smile was replaced with a teasing smirk. Confusion sparked in your eyes and your eyebrows furrowed as if to silently ask what the problem was. She just chuckled and took a seat across from you, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head back as though she was assessing you. Her next words not only shocked you but caused your entire being to wilt in annoyance and anxiety.
“I think it’s about time we start training you in combat. If a scrape has you in this much pain, imagine the damage a real battle would do. We can’t have you dying on us, now can we?”
She paused, thinking for a moment before reaching her conclusion.
“Yes… I’ll have you train with Blade. His abilities never disappoint.”
And that was how your ongoing feud with Blade began.
When Kafka decided to pair you up with Blade, you were pissed. However, you knew she was right. If you were falling apart just from accidentally scraping yourself, how were you supposed to handle actual threats? You would be utterly useless in a fight. And if anyone managed to get past the Stellaron Hunters and attempt to harm you, you would be dead on the spot. There wouldn't be a fight, just abrupt darkness, and a very disappointing end to a life such as yours. It would shatter the hearts of Kafka and Silver Wolf, who had already sworn to protect you at any cost. As you got older, the target on your back only became bigger. With the Stellaron Hunters’ reputation becoming more notorious by the day, civilians and authorities alike were bound to find out about you. Self-defense was a necessity.
But Blade never spoke to you. You felt as though you were a nuisance to him. Just another issue to be dealt with, another soul to pester him throughout the day. The way he glared at you made you wonder if you had done something wrong, or if you were imposing by being around. He made you feel out of place. Even after thorough reassurance from Kafka and Silver Wolf that his behavior was entirely normal, you still couldn’t help but worry. It was only after several months had passed that you came to understand that it truly wasn’t you- he was just grumpy. And that began to annoy you. If he wasn’t open to being somewhat nice, then why should you bother? You could glare back just as hard, and ignore him just as easily. If that's what he was getting at, then so be it. However, Kafka was the leader of both of you, and she wanted you to train. Despite your mild hatred of Blade, Kafka already had done so much for you. She only wanted the best for you. You could at least attempt to abide by her wishes.
So you gave in and begrudgingly stated training with Blade.
For a few hours every day, you and Blade would find any open area and he would walk you through different defense techniques. You expected the technical side of it, but you did not expect that you would be sparring right off the bat. On the first day of training, he threw you into your first match and charged at you with the assumption that you had sharp enough reflexes to block him successfully. Obviously, you weren’t at all prepared since you had zero experience with combat. Turns out Kafka really wasn’t kidding when she said Blade knew how to fight.
Lessons carried on like this for weeks. You would return from sparring exhausted and bruised, feeling completely done with everything as you limped to your room to sleep. You felt generally bitter, making it hard for Kafka or Silverwolf to help, and Blade just acted like it wasn’t his problem. The most he did was help you up, and that was only if you put up a good fight. But thankfully, after a while, Blade began to notice how badly the sparring affected you. It wasn’t like you were on the brink of death, but you were still in pain. And given your age, there was no doubt that it was a lot more overwhelming than anticipated. So Blade subtly began to take care of you a little more. It wasn’t much- he mainly just gave you icepacks whenever you needed them and helped you walk, but it was the most he knew how to do. He was clueless when it came to caring for people, especially children.
You were a persistent kid, which Blade found surprising. He thought you would have given up within the first week of training, but you just kept working at it. And while Blade found your stubborn behavior annoying most of the time, it assured him that you had enough courage to fight alongside him and the others. He knew you didn’t like him much, and he knew a part of you blamed him for the injuries you got, which was reasonable. As annoying as you found him, Blade never gave up on you, even when you messed up or got so frustrated that you cried. He never babied you during these moments either. Instead, he would walk you through what went wrong and have you run through the solution until you had it down cold. Even if you were upset, he wanted you to push through it and use your anger to become stronger. You had been fighting your whole life. You had the tenacity and potential to gain the strength that you required. Blade could tell that, even after joining them, you wanted a purpose. You wanted to explore the universe and find your place among the glowing webs of stars. However, the beauty of the galaxy came with dark and unfamiliar territory. If you were to traverse the universe, you had to learn how to handle to darkest parts of it.
Little by little, you improved. You worked as hard as possible until you were able to withstand Blade’s strength and evade his attacks properly. You had a long, long way to go before you could actually defeat opponents, but you could at least hold them off, which was just as important. Despite how grueling Blade’s teaching methods were, you did come to respect him more as your mentor. He looked out for you in his own distant ways and seemed to actually care about you. In truth, Blade had started getting protective over you- not that he would admit it. It wasn’t an overbearing kind of protectiveness- he just wanted you to stay out of trouble. It was nice to pass knowledge onto someone, and protect them from the world's dangers by doing so.
The truth was, even if Blade acted indifferently toward you, he secretly was really proud of you. He admired your kindness, even after all the pain you had been dealt. You kept smiling and picking yourself up, finding your back to the light time and time again. Perhaps that's what made you so different from him. His will to keep fighting was growing fainter by the day.
Even with your differences, you both became closer. Blade kept an eye on you whenever you left the ship, talked with you whenever you got bored, and even helped you whatever chores you had to do. Sure, you were stubborn, but Blade never grew to dislike you. Your relationship felt routine and safe- it held a sense of comfort that felt normal. Blade caught himself questioning if this was what family was meant to feel like. He couldn't remember, but a faint, distant memory assured him that it was. If he could contribute to the familial safety you longed for so much, he would gladly do so.
Was that even possible, though?
Blade had very little experience with love of any kind. Any memories he had of his past friend and family were long gone. His own sense of self was unstable, so how could he provide stability for you? He couldn't bear the thought of causing you pain. Or, there was a chance that he would rub off on you. That you would start to become like him. That prospect was enough to make him feel sick. So he began distancing himself from you in any way he could.
Now, whenever you crossed paths he would treat you especially coldly. Most times he saw you, he walked past you and pretended you didn't exist at all. He was back to being rude and dismissive, even more so than when you first met him.
Instead of encouraging you during training, he would call you weak and pick apart everything you had done wrong. This was not received well by you. After all, you didn’t know if Blade’s behavior was your fault, or if this was just how he truly was. You felt dejected and lonely, even with the support from Kafka and Silver Wolf. Though you loved them immensely, Blade was also someone you cared about, and you didn’t want to lose another parental figure. After weeks of being ignored, hatred replaced any good image you had of him. What used to be a safe, happy friendship soon morphed into an incessant rivalry.
It felt like Blade only wanted to see you unhappy. You imagined that he was secretly gloating over your distress- that you were nothing more than a temporary amusement to him. But you were wrong. So, so very wrong. Blade hated seeing you upset because of him. He was failing you by ignoring your wellbeing. You were just a kid. More importantly, you trusted him.
But it was for your own good, wasn’t it? His past was dark, and perhaps he was too, by nature. He would never forgive himself if he allowed harm to come to you. Even if that meant leaving you behind. No, he would much rather watch you grow up and live happily from afar.
Kafka still wanted you to train though, so Blade couldn’t avoid you entirely. Sparring was the only time he saw you anymore. Your sessions with him were difficult, but not because the material was hard. In fact, it was harder for Blade than you. You would glare at him constantly and show complete indifference to everything, making it nearly impossible to communicate with you. He wasn’t doing much better either- he couldn’t bring himself to say anything to you. It felt like the consequences of his neglect were crawling up his back, ready to snap at him at any moment, and he knew that any day now, you would finally break. Soon, everything would fall apart.
You knew Blade was heartless, but his cruelty was amplified when you trained with him now. He went all out, forcing you to scramble for scraps of knowledge he had previously given you to win. But that wasn’t enough this time. You were too tired, physically and emotionally, to continue. You felt smaller and weaker than you had ever felt before.
Lightning-fast blows struck you from all sides, the scent of bloodstained spider lilies clouding your senses. You weakly pulled your sword out of its sheath and tried to block his attacks, but doing so would knock you off balance from the force of his blows. You fell back on the ground, coughing and clambering to your feet, promptly hurling yourself towards Blade with hopes of hitting him just once. Built-up anger from the last few weeks rushed through your heart, tears of desperation dripping down your cheeks. God, you were tired of this. Blade used to be your friend. You wanted to know what changed, and you wanted that piece of your family back.
In your fury, your reaction time fell short. Blade darted behind you and shoved you to the ground, watching coldly as you crumpled over in defeat. A glint of regret shone in his eyes, but he quickly covered it up by turning his back to you. Once more, you picked yourself up, your throat burning from the lack of a break. It must have been hours since the start of your match, but it might have just felt that way because you were the one getting injured. Never before had Blade fought you this hard. You weren’t prepared, and he knew that. You internally questioned if he was actually trying to make you despise him, albeit sarcastically. It hadn’t occurred to you yet that it might actually be the case. You shakily lifted your head to look at him, angrily mumbling something that Blade couldn’t understand.
Blade took a breath and turned around to face you, blank expression unwavering.
“What was that?” He growled. The world seemed to fall silent as you locked your gaze with his in an act of defiance.
“I said, I hate you!”
You hated that you were crying. You hated feeling weak. You hated what he had put you through.
But you didn’t hate him. Not entirely.
You wanted to hate him fully. You wished you were strong enough to. But even then, as you wiped your tears and walked out, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him. Maybe it was the memories you had of when he felt like family, maybe it was inherent kindness or just plain stupidity. You couldn’t feel hatred. All you felt was dejection. So naturally, you began spiraling.
If Blade didn’t want you around, there was a chance Kafka and Silver Wolf didn’t want you either. If it was possible that they secretly hated you too, you wouldn’t allow yourself to withstand their rejections as well. You might as well just get out of their way, and save yourself the trouble. It was nice feeling happy for a while. But it wasn’t what you were made for. It wasn’t how you were used to living. Perhaps this was a sign that your destiny rested in the familiar arms of solitude, away from the glowing crowds.
That night, when you returned from training, you bid Kafka and Silver Wolf goodnight and began packing your bags. When you were sure everyone had gone to sleep, you took your leave. You slipped out of the ship’s main entrance, the frigid night air numbing the uncertainty in your chest. You started walking, not sure where you were headed. You were out of practice with your usual travel routines, but that wasn’t important. As long as you were away from the Stellaron Hunters, you would be safe. Lonely, but safe. But even with your half hearted reasoning, you still felt a sinking feeling that this wasn’t right. That you might regret this. You shoved it off, cursing at yourself quietly for getting so softhearted. It was time to cut ties. It was for the best.
However, you had made one vital mistake. While preparing to leave, you had purposely left behind any photos or items given to you by Kafka, Silver Wolf, or Blade. In your rush to leave, you accidentally left behind something incredibly important to you: your mother’s necklace.
You took it off and left it on your desk by accident. It was the last existing link between you and your biological parents and you cherished it because of that. So when Kafka found it the next morning, along with your neatly made bed and discarded photos, she knew something was very wrong. Silver Wolf burst into your room shortly after she found them, questioning Kafka about your whereabouts. She had no answer, all she could do was say she hadn’t seen you. Silver Wolf left worried and agitated, grumbling about how they had to find you. As Silver Wolf left, Blade approached your doorway with the intent of finding you for your training session, because at this point you would have been late. Gripping the necklace tightly, Kafka turned to face Blade. She knew there tension had been growing between you and him for the last month. If he was the cause of your absence, she would not let him get away unscathed.
Blade’s expression was serious, but Kafka could see the glint of confusion in his eyes. He seemed entirely clueless, so perhaps interrogating him wouldn't do much.
“There’s no sign of them anywhere on the ship,” she said softly, trying to keep her voice steady. “There’s only this.” Kafka gestured to the thin chain that lay forgotten on your desk. Dread immediately shot through Blade’s heart.
You had left.
And it was all his fault.
He neglected you. You had every right to leave. He was meant to be a guardian to you. It was his job- no, his privilege to keep you safe, and failed to do so. And now you could be anywhere in the galaxy, wandering aimlessly once again. Blade carefully took the necklace, trying to keep his composure as questions and visions of the worst raced through his mind. What if they never found you, or what if you had gotten hurt? What if it was too late, and you were already–
He didn’t allow that thought to finish itself. Catastrophizing would only slow the process of finding you.
But would you even want to come back? Why would you, when you felt unwelcome enough to leave in the first place? And even if, by some miracle, you came back, would you ever trust him again? If you ever granted him forgiveness, would he even deserve it?
This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? That was why he pushed you away- so you would leave him alone. You were gone now, and he had gotten what he wanted. Was he truly so terrible that he would still be unhappy, even after he had achieved his desire?
It wasn't meant to go like this.
You weren't meant to leave them. It was his fault though, so maybe it was best to let you go.
Kafka’s piercing gaze bored into the side of Blade's head as she watched the gears turning inside his head. She took a short breath before heading towards the door. She was scared of losing you, and angry that they hadn’t noticed your absence until now. There was no time for emotions such as anger. You were missing. They had to find you.
Blade stood in the center of your room, now entirely alone. The metal of your necklace dug into his skin as he clutched onto it for dear life, his eyes falling to the pictures on your bed. You seemed so happy before. So did Kafka and Silver Wolf- he was happy too, though he was reluctant to admit it out loud. He had broken the loving family you had brought together. A strange family, but a family nonetheless.
Blade kept staring. He wished he could go out looking for you. Unfortunately, wishes are not reality.
Blade would not search for you that day. He would be chained to where he stood, fighting with himself internally as time slipped by quietly. You could have died already. And he was just standing there, staring.
No, he would not look for you.
Because the truth cannot be denied, nor masked with excuses- in the end, Blade is a cruel man.
One who cannot be changed by anything.
#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#blade x reader#yingxing x reader#blade x reader platonic#kafka x reader#silver wolf x reader#stellaron hunters x reader#gender neutral reader#hsr angst#hsr fluff#blade x you#hsr x you#kafka x you#silver wolf x you#honkai star rail#platonic#angst
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Hey guys so a while back I went insane and made a list of things we know about Luocha and the coffin entity that took an hour of scrounging every second of screen time and references to his person
These lists were made as of 2.1.
So what we know about the Coffin Entity TM:
•Is being delivered to the Xianzhou despite the fact nobody on the Xianzhou stores their dead the way this person is stored. Also, Lucoha hasn’t “delivered” it yet he still is carting it around despite being on the Xianzhou. It also seems whoever he’s delivering it to is of the Ten Lords Commission and he's aiming to go to the Xianzhou Xuling with it
•They met only once and it was during some sort of conflict Luocha became involved in
•The coffin is being delivered on somebody else’s behalf, possibly the deceased’s or another third party's
•The coffin entity is not considered a friend, lover, or relative
•Luocha proposed a deal of some kind that he’s still waiting to see the entity uphold
•The entity isn’t quite dead as it is temperamental and jabs Luocha with thorny vines when he upsets it. The coffin also has an emphasis on being silent as though whatever is in it can talk back and chooses not to
•Luocha considers their relationship a business one
•Luocha says he and the entity underestimated each other, particularly when Luocha proposed the deal
•He states he and the entity both wanted to use each other
And now, what we know about Luocha:
•He’s a wandering merchant who is registered with the IPC and the Xianzhou Yuque
•He seems to come from an aristocratic or wealthy background based on his clothes and speech and sword (An Épée which is used in fencing, a sport typically practiced by European royalty and the upper class since the 14th Century as that’s when the oldest fencing records seem to hail from)
•He’s considered an Abomination of the Abundance and he confirms his power stems from Yaoshi
•He has no home according to him
•He can heal both organic and inorganic life forms
•He’s looking into immortality of some kind which is interesting because he also seems to have a negative view of immortality and even notes Mara-struck being used as "sacrifices to the Abundance". He also says yearning for immortality as a short-life species is normal and to avoid doing so would be like killing an Aeon.
•He wants to kill Yaoshi
•He’s working with Jingliu to kill Yaoshi and I think Jingliu is the “other business” he had to attend to
•He isn’t the one who snuck on the Stellaron despite turning himself in for doing so. He says he delivered it without knowing its significance but once again he can can sense Stellarons so that doesn't hold much water, but who knows it's murky.
•He doesn’t know VA (Void Archives)
•He he’s wary of Jing Yuan and tries to avoid to being watched by him
•He “changes his mask” so to speak to fit in different situations which matches the fact he goes by the alias Luocha when on the Xianzhou
•His clothes are that of his home world and he wears them “to remind him of the path he must keep treading”
•On his home planet he was involved with a church/church-based society
•His city was destroyed and he was perhaps the only survivor? Possibly related to the Knight of Purity Palace set?
•Many Xianzhou natives say he works and speaks like an older Xianzhou native
•He has a very similar design as Yaoshi
•Before he arrived on the Xianzhou he had a diviner tell him “not to be concerned with the destination, but to seize [his] chances and travel with the current to reap the greatest harvest”
•Luocha is an alias, not his real name, and he only goes by Luocha on the Xianzhou and his real name is noted to be a "tongue-twister" by himself and Jing Yuan
•He’s always wanted to visit the Herta Space Station
•According to Jing Yuan, he "isn't in any hurry to conduct business" and in Jingliu's quest he says Luocha didn't conduct any trade during his stay and his departure lined up with the calamities taking place
•He doesn't like seeing flowers wither but does later note "maybe it's not so bad after all"
•Jingliu says he's "just like her" in that he has a "hole" in his heart that no matter what he does he cannot fill it and just exhausts himself in the effort to do so
•He sells "uncommon trinkets"
•He considers friendship precious
•He typically doesn't get eye bags from staying up
•He's renting a like AirBNB type residence to stay in instead of the Petrichor Inn where he normally stays. He notes it "helps him forget his identity as a traveling merchant"
•One of his hobbies is observing and experiencing the Xianzhou natives' way of life
•He considers himself not great as opening conversations
•He seems to like wine as he left us some when he departed from the Express
•The flower that is his motif is a actually a white iris, which represents innocence and purity and are often used at weddings or as sympathy flowers at funerals. A lot of fanon stuff will depict him with white lilies though, which represent rebirth and purity!
•Jing Yuan admitted he outsmarted him
•Luocha has a weird motif in his related achievements of dancing (Coffin Dancer and Wardance: Épée Trial)
•He broke into the Shackling Prison but seemingly did nothing. Luocha states that in doing so he found the Luofu didn't have what he was looking for
•Jing Yuan mentions he's infamous for being involved in matters at locations called Eternity Fortress and Shroudveil Starzone which I can't find mention of anywhere, so I don't know these locations
•Dahao tells us that upon being arrested Luocha was charged with identity fraud and smuggling dangerous bio-merchandise among other crimes, which Dahao points out is weird and vague.
•He considers the Clous Knight's devotion to Lan as making them "closed-minded". He says there's other factions other than those of Lan who want Yaoshi dead and that they must "look to the source for the solution" to severing Yaoshi's curse
•He also has an understanding of traditional medicine and will write prescriptions for people
•He likes to do little kind things for people with no expectation of being recognized or praised for it
•He constantly stresses he's a noncombatant and while he can hold his own in small-scale conflicts he seems to rely on more experienced fighters in more serious ones and this is reflected in his sword which an Épée, a kind of heavy fencing sword
•He’s interested in and holds a great deal of respect for Elias Salas which is interesting because Elias Salas is notable for not wanting to extend his lifespan despite being able to and died at 103
I probably missed some stuff but I scrounged all this from lightcones, voice lines, character stories, relic backstories, quests, messages, trailers, etc. If I missed anything let me know! Some of these are obviously more relevant than others but if I missed anything let me know and I'll add it to the list!
I wish I could add the screenshots of where I got everything but posts have picture limits so if anyone's curious where I found certain information feel free to ask and I'll reply with where I found it.
Have a great day, mwah!
#honkai star rail#Luocha#Finis Analyzes#Am I insane for this? Probably#Doc was so tired of me#She will never know peace fr
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What makes life worth living?
Tommy didn’t always have an answer to this question. He remembers a moment in his therapist’s office when he thought about it and didn’t know what to say. It was right after he left the military and was supposed to prove that he was stable enough to work for the fire department.
The question was: What makes life worth living?
But his mind decided to change it to: What makes my life worth living?
And suddenly Tommy got scared. He was at a loss for words. He just sat there and stared into the void, the question echoing around in his head, bouncing off the walls. The therapist didn’t push, but he also clearly didn’t approve of the silence, because he scheduled even more appointments.
What makes life worth living?
The thing is. Tommy always felt a little lost in some way. Like he was a lonely boat on the ocean, thrown around by invisible waves. His parent’s marriage shattered in front of his eyes and their family fell apart. Friendships never stuck. Relationships didn’t even get a chance to begin before they ended. The army was a means to an end. At least it gave him flying which always made him feel free in a certain way, but it also gave him nightmares filled with explosions, gunshots and screaming.
Now that was over too and Tommy was back at the start. Wherever that was supposed to be. He never really felt like he belonged somewhere. Like he fit in. The fire department was probably not going to be any different.
What makes life worth living?
You wake up in the morning, do your routine, go to work, do the chores, waste time with a hobby, and go to bed. Rinse and repeat. It’s best to not falter. Not to give yourself time to think. Because then you start to think about questions like: what makes life worth living? And you are going to realise that your life is not that great. That something is missing. That you’re not happy. And that you don’t know how to fix something without knowing the reason why it’s broken in the first place.
What makes life worth living?
It’s astonishing how much of a difference it can make to meet the right people at the exact right time. They make you start to see things differently. Make you think. Maybe even make you realise some things about yourself. Like the fact that you were hiding behind several layers of masks and that not everyone shies away when you lift them. Or that the past made you so scared, that you are standing in your own way, keeping yourself from making new happier experiences because you already fear that the future is never going to be any different from what you know. They show you that it’s not too late to change.
What makes life worth living?
It’s Christmas and the merry tone of Jingle Bells floats through the living room. The rainbow-coloured baubles on the Christmas Tree reflect the lights of the garlands decorating the windows. Tommy looks at the people surrounding him. Maddie and Chimney are laughing and filming while Jee and Mara are unpacking their presents. Denny and Chris are already playing with a new Rubik's cube. Eddie is assuring Evan that no, he can’t eat any more cookies but that they really are delicious. Bobby and Athena are talking to Hen and Karen, all with steaming mugs filled with mulled wine in their hands.
What makes life worth living?
Tommy smiles. It’s the little moments, he decides then. Little moments that brighten your day. Little moments spent with people who really care about you and accept you for who you are. Little family moments. And moments filled with good things. Nice food, music, laughter, surprise, dancing. Moments that create memories which you can come back to on darker days.
Evan comes over with his plate of cookies, beaming at Tommy. He’s wearing a Santa Hat and the little white bobble at the end of it jumps with each of his steps. “Do you want another cookie, babe?”
“Of course,” Tommy says, smiling.
This is what makes life worth living.
(Written for tevan advent caleandar Day 1 - AO3 Link)
#tevan advent calendar 2024#bucktommy advent calendar 2024#tevan#bucktommy#tommy kinard#bucktommy fanfic
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Going to speculate that the voidtongue words "vashtav" and "vull" mean "praise" and "voice"
"Mara" is probably just "the" but given the apparent relation to sanskrit and being an existing Hebrew word it might not. Saw some speculation it is equivalent to "demon" or a similar concept. Though I am doubtful of that or at least it doesn't carry the same connotation. Fibonacci probably wouldn't call the player a void demon while clearly pleased with their actions. Externally, Mara is used to refer to the player character operator by the devs so it could be used to refer to the tenno as void demons. Ultimately I'm not sure.
"Zek" we have confirmation via subtitles it is a question. Probably just "what".
"Aba" I can only guess is "help" it is only spoken by bird 3 before the gargoyle translates, and "what? Help! What? What?" Seems plausible.
What I do think is that fish knows more about voidtongue than he lets on and I will. make. him. talk.
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nobody was ready for this actually being a destiny blog (unless you, y'know, recognize the url) BUT
destiny new content destiny new content!!!
i am of very mixed opinion on the new seasonal story. it absolutely boggles me that people are TALKING OUT LOUD TO RIVEN did nobody read the manual?? she is showing SURPRISING restraint in not just causing intractable and unfathomable chaos the moment anyone opens their mouth. the wish wall exists not only as a form of language that is entirely void of semantic ambiguity in order to obtain the thing queen mara actually wanted to wish for but also because such a language is the only safe way to interact with ahamkara.
crow just being randomly on the phone with her and going "could you do x?" and riven going "do you... WISH it? ;)" is absurd to me because she doesn't need permission she can just ruin your day for looking at or speaking with her. anyway it's weird to see riven as just a normal person who happens to be an ancient and powerful dragon wizard rather than someone who, because they are an ancient and powerful dragon wizard, is totally impossible for everyone else to understand or fathom. discarding her whole thousand voices shtick! what's going on there! this season really just threw out all of the cool riven & ahamkara lore and is now treating her very differently, which will always grate on me as someone who has invested time and energy in the lore. if tallulah fairwind could see this riven now... unthinkable.
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I am 90% certain we're not getting a Blade story quest so I storyboarded my own in the shower.
It starts on the express. The weird memory guy at the back wants to talk to you. They tell you you've got a new memory to see, but that it's not as stable as clear cut as the others. Weird, but alright it's probably just another boss fight but remade for an event.
You enter the memory and it's all disconjointed at first. Flashes of a man with a lion cub, a long graceful dragon, a foxian with their back oh so purposely turned on you. It's incomprehensible at first, and then you come across a dark void. Spider lilies cover the floor like a carpet and they do not crush or wilt as you pass through.
After what feels like minutes of walking in a straight line you start to hear it. Blade's internal voice, trying to remember what he has forgotten. It starts off clear as day, almost panicked as glimpses of him start appearing, chasing after the mirages you saw earlier. Then the mara starts to seep in and he gets angrier, the images become more distorted and harder to make out and the frustration in his voice is so easy to make out you can feel it in your own chest.
Then Her voice appears. Like magic the images completely disappear, her voice warping the space around you to grow smaller until you can almost touch Blade's shoulder. You don't dare though. You watch as he hunches over, forcefully being reverted back to his earlier frustrated state by the woman's influence. He's trembling, you're not sure with anger or frustration but maybe it's both. Is it at himself, or the woman that suddenly goes quiet again.
Then and only then can you finally interact with Blade. It's no surprise he doesn't want you there but he stills keeps to his promise not to bring you direct harm. He refuses your help, whatever help you may offer, but neither of you know how to get out of there. You're as trapped in Blade's memories as he is. Together you wander the scape, one more desperate than the other to get out and back to the real world. He refuses to tell you anything, so instead you tell him a story or two. About you travels to other lands, about Herta's space station and a planet of spice and ice that you heard was once so green it could be seen for galaxies.
As you and Blade travel you get the choice to guide him, to help him. You come across more mirages of people he once knew and you get the choice to either help him remember or to help him avoid. It's a tricky balance, remember too much and the woman must soothe him again to avoid the mara taking over thus erasing all your progress. Avoid too much and he grows frustrated that his memories will never be his own, trapping you further in the void of madness.
When you eventually escape it isn't clear whether that was the real Blade or not, but you can rest easy knowing somehow you may have helped him avoid the mara a bit longer.
#this is so scuffed and definitely has plot holes#but Blade brainrot never goes away#honkai star rail#honkai blade#blade hsr#hsr#hsr blade
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Not Finale 3
Here is part 3. Only one more until the end of Siobhan's Final Shape story.
Content Warning: graphic descriptions of injury
Making Camp Again
“You go ahead and scout with Crow. Me and this one can set up the camp just fine.” Cayde grabbed the top of Siobhan's head and made her nod. He ignored the hissing and threats to his dignity spewing from the other Hunter, expertly dodging the swipes at him. His reflexes were still sharp as ever as her eyes promised to dismember him if he didn’t let her go.
“If you're sure?” Cayde nodded and Nevia headed out with Crow. Cayde waited until they left before he released Siobhan, taking a healthy step back and facing the younger Hunter. He saw she was on the defensive immediately. That alerted him to something going on that she didn’t want to share. Cayde knew she was going to be cagey about the entire thing, and that it would be work to get her to talk.
“Now come on. Crow and I settled our differences. I forgave him for killing me. So why can't you two get along?” Siobhan glared at Cayde for a moment before the fight went out of her. He was stunned to see the mask drop and the depths of her feelings in her eyes, and the tears threatening to fall. She stubbornly blinked them back and he sighed at her refusal to be vulnerable. Her Ghost floated beside her as they pulled out the equipment for their camp.
“Crow already forgave me. He told me the night we first made camp,” Siobhan said as she kept her hands busy by making camp. Cayde shook his head and wondered why it wasn’t adding up then. Siobhan should have been glad Crow forgave her, shouldn’t she? He looked over at her and saw the raw grief on her face and in those glowing eyes of hers.
“Then why do you look like you lost a piece of yourself?” Siobhan crossed her arms and looked down. Cayde grew worried about her. This wasn’t like her at all. Siobhan hated talking about feelings or letting anyone get close to her, even her fireteam and Nevia had troubles getting that close to her. Siobhan once said it was to keep from making herself a burden to those people she loved, but he’d called bullshit years ago on that.
“Because I did,” her whispered words brought him up short. “I never told you or anyone really, I regained my memories of my past life during the Red War.” That floored Cayde and he looked at her in stunned silence. She’d held that in for almost ten years? That she knew who she was from before.
“I heard of some Guardians getting snippets, but you got the whole thing?” Siobhan shook her head. She didn’t really know how to explain it truly, but she knew Cayde deserved to know. It was hard to put it into the words she needed.
“It was just fragments at first. A name. A brief flash of another face with a warm emotion attached. Arawn and I didn't know what it was until we looked into the Awoken records. And found my face staring back at us. It all came back in a rush as soon as I saw the picture of myself. It got a bit overwhelming, which is why I never held Crow's lashing out against him.” Cayde shut his mouth and nodded at her to continue. He wasn’t about to lecture her, he knew better at this point in their friendship. He’d try to lecture and she’d just remind him of how many times she’d pulled his irresponsible ass out of the fire. Her particular favorite point was Nessus. “I was Selene Corinnj. Captain of Queen Mara's Crows. A master infiltrator and assassin. Guess that's why Void always called to me, anyway. I died on a mission just outside of the Cosmodrome.” Siobhan heaved another sigh, one that told Cayde just how worn down she truly was. This would be difficult for anyone to wrap their head around, but to do so alone? He hated that she felt she had to do this by herself, not when so many people surrounded her.
“I was ambushed by one of Mara's people. That agent didn't like I was getting too close to the prince, if you catch my meaning.” Cayde's jaw dropped before he laughed. He did, in fact, understand it and found it hilarious. To think they’d be connected for so long, almost as if it was fate.
“So wait, you were the Prince’s lover before and after death?”
“Eww, it's creepy when you say it like that!! I was his lover in my past life and as a Guardian. Sounds better that way.” Cayde laughed at her. “Hahaha, laugh at distress.” Siobhan puffed out her cheeks and Cayde sat down opposite her. Siobhan looked at him and just knew he’d gotten the wrong idea about why she felt the way she did. She waited for him to say it, propping her elbow on her knee as she sat opposite him in the camp.
“I see where the problem is.” Siobhan arched an eyebrow. “You got jealous that Crow got flirty with Amanda.” Her jaw dropped and she wanted to kick at him. Out of all the conclusions he could’ve drawn, he came to that idea!? Siobhan groaned and dropped her head into her hand as Cayde looked at her curiously.
“No. That's not it. I.” Siobhan's voice cracked and the tears spilled over. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. Not when she was faced by the hardest quest she’d ever undertaken since becoming a Guardian. The band she used to keep her emotions in check snapped and she couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. "I can't forgive myself.” She had never voiced the deepest, darkest thoughts to anyone. Not her Fireteam, not Nevia. Only to herself and Arawn. “I can't forgive myself.” She crumpled and held her face in her hands. Her chest burned with the raw emotion she kept banded tightly in her heart. She had never wanted to face it, never wanted to deal with it. It kept festering like an old wound in her heart, reminding her every day that her actions had consequences. That she was the reason two men had died. Your fault.
To her surprise she felt the arms around her and a hand patting her head. “We're always the hardest on ourselves. I can't quite forgive myself for leaving Nevia behind like that.” Cayde just patted her back as she allowed herself to properly feel for the first time since she'd pulled the trigger. “You'll just create a wound in your soul if you keep it locked tight like that. We can't be having that now. I know us Hunters are known to be emotionally inept, but come on now.” Siobhan chuckled and stepped back after her tears stopped. “Now, are we going to work on forgiving ourselves?”
“Only if you do too.” Cayde froze and narrowed his eyes at her. He always knew she played dirty. She narrowed hers right back at him.
“Point. We'll both work on it then?” Siobhan nodded and wiped at her cheeks. “Good. We'll need everyone up front and ready for this mission.”
“I got it. I wouldn't have jeopardized the mission you know.” Cayde patted her head. He knew she wouldn’t have, but he didn’t want to see her with a giant gaping wound in her soul either. Not this Guardian. He couldn’t imagine carrying the burdens she did, and that was with his own weighing down his soul. The guilt and responsibility she carried must be soul crushing and Cayde wished she’d let some of her friends help ease the pain.
“I know. I know. Still, it's no good to keep everything locked up tight. I believe our mother once said it will make you emotionally constipated. Can you believe that?” Cayde saw the moment she changed, it was when she laughed. Siobhan looked more like herself, like a weight had been lifted and he was glad for it.
“You know she hates it when you call her mum.” Cayde grinned. “Though, she'd give anything to hear you say it again. So maybe make her cry when we see her again.”
“And get smacked? No thank you. No one quite packs a punch like Yvette. I'd rather get a Titan kiss than that.” Siobhan doubled over laughing and straightened while holding her aching stomach. She’d needed that laugh so desperately.
“Siobhan, I'm getting a Taken reading.” Right after Arawn warned them, Siobhan felt the impact on her shoulder. The world fizzled out to a soft ringing in her ears as she realized what just hit her. Dread coated her tongue and left a bitter burn to her stomach as she felt the alien pulse already throbbing in her shoulder. “Siobhan!”
“Damn it. They do know how to ruin a touching moment.” Cayde laughed and ducked to find cover. Siobhan felt the poison seeping into her body and she clenched her jaw. This wasn’t good. She knew Nevia was going to be furious about this. Whenever they did patrol together, Nevia would keep an eye out for Taken. She sucked in a breath and forced her limbs to move. She’d fought harder enemies with worse wounds, and she’d push through this as well.
“Focus on keeping it contained, Arawn. I can still fight one handed,” Siobhan whispered to Arawn. Her Ghost worried for her as she used the rock to push herself into the air. He felt the pulse of Darkness go through her as the ice formed in her hands and she unleashed Stasis on her enemies. Cayde was easily able to pick them off once they were frozen. Siobhan cleared out the rest with her hand cannon, all the while ignoring the steady throbbing from her shoulder. In a beat that was not to her own heart’s.
“We still make one helluva team. Siobhan?” Cayde noticed how still she was. Then he remembered. “Shit! The Taken poison! What the heck do I do Arawn!?” Arawn flexed his shell and called for Chia. Chia responded with their estimated time of return thanks to encountering their own enemies. Cayde’s lights flickered with worry as he realized that would be too long, and he was without Sundance.
“Go meet up and switch spots with Nevia. I'll need Chia's help for this,” Arawn told Cayde who hesitated. He didn’t want to just leave Siobhan by herself. What if more enemies cropped up? “Please!”
“Wouldn't it be better to have Glint help?” Siobhan grabbed his sleeve and he saw the dark purple veins on her shoulder, slowly spreading out and trying to sink deep into her Light. Cayde couldn’t believe it was that bad already, she’d barely taken a blow. Worry gnawed at his gut and he made the decision himself. He may be without a Ghost but he could still help damn it.
“No. I don't want him to see this. To see me like this.” Siobhan breathed out in relief when she saw Cayde nod in understanding. He ducked around the rock and just sat there, keeping his optics searching for any kind of threats. Siobhan may have wanted him to leave, but there was no way in hell he was moving from his spot. Not only because he cared for the woman as a sister, but Nevia would likely never forgive him if he abandoned her.
Siobhan ducked into a small carved out hiding spot in the rock face and pulled off her armor. She sat in just her bra when she heard boots coming towards them. Her mind was hazy as she didn’t recognize who approached, and she realized the fever had started. Damn it. She glanced down at her shoulder and flinched away from the look of it. Long purple tendrils snaked away from the impact spot, reaching towards her heart, and all throbbing to some unknown rhythm. Her skin felt hot to the touch when she probed the wound. She took out her knife and knew what she had to do. There was no time if she wanted to stop the spread of the damn Taken ichor.
“Siobhan, shouldn’t you wait for Nevia?” Arawn asked as he fluttered in front of her, his eye focused on the wound. She shook her head and dug her knife into the infected flesh, she bit down on the anguished cry as she cut a piece away. With every piece of infected flesh that fell away, Arawn was able to contain more and more of the spreading poison. Siobhan looked up as she heard the footsteps again, but she didn’t know if they were friend or foe with the fever messing up her senses. She hoped it was Nevia or Cayde.
“Siobhan!” A tiny little ball of spikes flew through the cave entrance and Siobhan narrowed her eyes in disbelief. What happened? She thought Cayde went to replace Nevia so the recon could continue? Did she hear wrong? Siobhan groaned as the high pitched ringing sounded in her ears again. She looked up as the little Ghost floated in front of her face.
“Glint? What?” Siobhan cursed and gnashed her teeth against the pulse of pain. “Where's Chia?” She didn’t have time to explain what to do and neither did Arawn. She was barely hanging on by a thread to keep herself awake.
“Right here.” Chia popped up next to Glint and immediately assessed the situation. “Nevia, this won't hold all of us in here. We’ll have to take her outside.” Siobhan heard something of a scuffle outside but her vision was growing weaker. The shapes were starting to blend together and she shook her head. Her knife raised to take more of the infected flesh out when she looked up.
“Wait, no.” Nevia's voice reached Siobhan but she couldn't understand why she was saying no. Until hands closed over her shoulders and under her knees, gently pulling her up against a solid chest. Was it Cayde? No, it doesn’t feel like him. Then who? Then her vision grayed at the edges before she closed them.
“I forgot she was still weak to Taken poison. I never should have left her side. She shouldn’t have been here if I knew Taken would be here.” Nevia's words were harsh, full of grief, to herself even though she knew how Siobhan would react. As if you could keep me away.
“What is happening?” Crow asked as he set Siobhan down near the tent. Nevia pushed him out of the way and Cayde grabbed his arm. Crow jerked back but Cayde held fast. There was something in the exo’s eyes that stopped Crow from turning back to Siobhan.
“It's worse than I thought. How is it spreading so fast Arawn?” Nevia asked as she grabbed her knife. Alarm shot through Crow as he saw the wicked blade shining in the light.
“What are you doing?” Crow demanded as she cut away the infected skin. His stomach turned as he saw it. Was this what she went through during the Red War? He’d heard Amanda talk about it back in the hangar. Yeah, during the Red War Siobhan took a big hit on Io from this Taken lieutenant. I swear I thought we’d lost her because of how deep seated the poison was. She pulled through and kicked Ghaul’s ass even with her side still bleeding. Man, I still remember her first time at the Tower. Now she’s up and saving all our butts.
“What I have to.” Nevia spat at him as she returned to her task. She knew to cut away the poisoned skin, there was no saving it as all it did was hinder her Light from healing and protecting her from the poison. Arawn, Chia, and Glint worked to keep the poison from spreading.
“Crow, I need to talk to you.” Cayde slung an arm around Crow’s neck and began to walk away from the scene in front of him. Cayde dragged the other Hunter away from the two women, despite his struggles to get free. “Now.” They were well away from the area when Cayde finally stopped. Crow broke free with a loud gasp of air.
“Why did you do that? I could have helped!” Cayde shook his head. He’d seen the look in Crow’s eyes. Lost, panic, desperate. Anguish. Cayde sighed and looked over at the other Hunter. He knew Crow would be just as useless as he had been during the Red War when Siobhan had come back from Io with that festering wound on her stomach.
“You'll just be in the way. I've seen it before.” Crow froze and turned to him. “Ah jeez, you didn't know?”
“Know what? I knew she’d taken a large attack during the Red War.” Cayde looked at him and wondered if he truly knew what it was or if he’d just heard stories.
“When those two went into Oryx's throne world, Siobhan became weakened against the Taken poison. It can latch onto her more easily than one of us.” Cayde gestured between the two of them. “And yeah, during the Red War, I thought we'd lost her. It was bad, Crow. I never want to see that again, and I'm not halfway in love with the woman like you are. She didn't even let her wound fully heal before she was blazing back into battle. Trust me on this, it's better to stay back. Seeing the floor slick with her blood… You don’t need to see that.” Crow froze at Cayde’s words and he looked towards the camp.
“How can you be so calm about this? What if it was Nevia?” Cayde's jaw shuddered and he sighed before letting go of Crow's arm. The other Hunter had him there. If it was Nevia there would be no stopping him from getting in there.
“I came to help.” Nevia looked up at Crow in surprise. She instructed him on what to do. He looked down at Siobhan and saw the scars. So many scars. The pain she had to have endured. All alone. He methodically followed Nevia’s directions as the Ghosts worked their magic. After an hour Arawn announced she was poison free.
“We've got to move.” Nevia stood and threw Siobhan's cloak over her body. “Come on sleepyhead.” Crow’s jaw dropped at the nonchalance from Nevia. Outrage had him jumping to his feet to address the other Hunter.
“She just got patched up!” Crow yelled at Nevia. He’d even volunteer to stay back with her if that would help the matter. Even if he knew they were on a time clock. The thought of her fighting with a barely healed wound had his soul shuddering in fear.
“And I've gone to war with worse. I'm up.” Siobhan groaned as she sat up. Arawn floated in front of her face. “I'm good. Well, maybe not good but I can at least fight.” Siobhan stood and pulled on her armor. She ignored the pinch and pull of her wounds as she settled the last gauntlet on her arm. She wouldn’t be able to use her favorite shotgun but that was fine. She’d taken on Ghaul with a wound that refused to stay closed no matter how hard Arawn had tried. She’d kick in the Witness’s teeth with this one still trickling blood too.
“You shouldn't be fighting at all. At least not until your shoulder heals.” Siobhan looked at him over her uninjured shoulder. Why was he so concerned? Did he think she’d be a liability in the fight ahead? She wanted to scoff but knew that was a valid concern to anyone who didn’t know her.
“I'll be fine. I can take things easy if I use a hand cannon. It won’t put as much strain on my arm or anything.” Arawn piped up that she hated that weapon type. “I can deal with it.”
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{"guardian_login": "Martyr-19" [”ghost”: “Prophet”]}
{“id": "0139"}
{"title": "Bio:Martyr-#"}
{"type": "bioshare"}
{"created": "####-##-##”}
{“updated”: “####-##-##”}
6/6
Snippets of Martyr-19’s Guardian profile—
MARTYR-#
{“guardian": "Martyr-19"}
{“ghost": "Prophet"}
{“status”}} > active
{“stationed”}} > “data-unavailable”
> [warlock, exo]
First Vanguard Note>>
[####-##-##] > IR “Continues to struggle with mastering advanced void abilities. I have concerns about his readiness for the battles ahead, and recommend additional training time before further field deployment.”
Last Vanguard Note>>
[####-##-##] > IR “Planning on how to approach the Pale Heart when the time comes. Updates to follow.”
-
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Fireteam {1} Insight>>
[####-##- ##-] {“year 1”}
{B}} TALK MORE!! You’d swear he’s mute, then scares you half to death when he gives input.
{V1}} Excellent control! Bright mind! Must be a better team-player!
{S3}} Great crowd control. Decently accurate with scout rifles— avoid shotguns entirely. Keep on backlines, only push to front when healing or using an auto rifle.
{L}} Says he has a bit of a memory problem, but I think he’s doing great! Ask about his sketches— brightens up instantly!
{K}} Not sure what’s scarier, his horrible aim with a hand cannon or how much more violent his novas have gotten.
Fireteam {1} Insight>>
[####-##- ##-] {“year 2”}} “last recorded”
{B}} You were one of us, too. Don’t forget it, yeah?
{V1}} You’ll be alright, I know you will.
{S3}} You have no right to mourn either of them.
{L}} [no comment available]
{K}} [no comment available]
-
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Latest Guardian Report>>
{OverviewAccess}
{“attached-details”>hidden}
“Energy signatures emanating from the Traveler are only becoming more violent. It’s like…pain. It could be fighting whatever corruption the Witness is inflicting within. Waiting for Crow is the only option we have, I’m not taking my eye off of things. Remaining in direct contact with Mara Sov— comm channel is active 24/7 and open to Vanguard and all appropriate personnel. Transferring data collection every hour.
Ready to take action the moment we have our way in.”
-
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I worry.
Despite my detachment in many of these logs, I do harbor a genuine care.
I care for everyone across Sol.
However, it mostly lies with my Guardian.
He is mine.
He is my responsibility.
Mine to worry for. Mine to care for. Mine to support. Mine to guide.
Mine to love.
He is a child. He is my child. He is what I brought into this world.
I searched so long for him.
I thought I would never find him.
But I did.
And then suddenly, I felt as if I had found myself and a stranger all at once. I felt as if I had known him for an eternity and yet I couldn’t wait to meet him. I could feel our path, every single beautiful and horrible branch of it— and never once was I afraid. I knew we would have each other. I knew that would be enough.
When you share the same Light— the same soul— it is impossible to sever. Part of you will always be a part of them.
I’ll be with him till the very end.
Light or Dark.
Win or lose.
I am his. He is mine.
#destiny the game#destiny 2#destiny guardians#destiny ghost#destiny oc#destiny exo#destiny warlock#martyr-19
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love over fear
Jacen had learned that one can meet the Universe and all its irrational pain - which means meeting oneself - with fear, or with hatred, or with despair. Or one can choose to meet it with love. Jacen had chosen.
But still, he was astonished to discover that the Universe could love him back
“I will remember, Your Grace,” said Sansa, though she had always heard that love was a surer route to the people's loyalty than fear. If I am ever a queen, I'll make them love me
empathy
Though Jacen could theoretically inspire the World Brain to more deadly action, from poisoning Yuuzhan Vong food to causing an ecological catastrophe, he had refrained. His empathy with the Yuuzhan Vong had grown along his Vongsense : he would not be a mass murderer, not even of a deadly enemy
They all laughed then, Joffrey on his throne, and the lords standing attendance, Janos Slynt and Queen Cersei and Sandor Clegane and even the other men of the Kingsguard, the five who had been his brothers until a moment ago. Surely that must have hurt the most, Sansa thought. Her heart went out to the gallant old man as he stood shamed and red-faced, too angry to speak
diplomacy
“You're what ?” The red face of General Berrida glowered at Jacen from the Widowmaker's hologram.
“A Jedi Knight, sir,” Jacen repeated steadily. “I've come to help you.”
“Help us—?” The overweight general spluttered for a second. “And what exactly makes you think we need your help, Jedi Knight ? All I see is an overgrown boy in robes.”
“Appearances can be deceptive,” Jacen said, refusing to wilt beneath the general's blustering and outrage.
[...]
Jacen ticked several items off on his fingers. “First, we can advise you on how to detect and eleminate Yuuzhan Vong spies within your ranks. Second, we can teach your pilots new tactics that will help you fight more effectively on the front. And third, I can offer you my opinion of what you should do next.”
[...]
Jacen brought his own hands behind his back as he waited for the general's reply.
The holographic image of the general was motionless for a long time — long enough for Jacen to wonder if the image hadn't frozen. Then Berrida moved, tilting his head to one side with a grimace.
“I'll get back to you,” he said, before his image abruptly dissolved.
[...]
“I totally agree with you, Jacen,” Luke said. “And I know that you'll do the job right. You seem to have a natural strength when it comes to negotiating. Your mother will be proud. Not even she was able to talk the Imperials around, and she's one of the best diplomats the New Republic has ever seen.”
Jacen smiled at his uncle praise. “That's kind of you,” he said. “Although to be fair to my mother, the last time she was here the Imperials didn't have the Yuuzhan Vong snapping at their heels. Things like that tend to make people easier to persuade.”
“That's nothing but false modesty, Jacen, and you know it,” Mara said
She is good at this, he thought, as he watched her tell Lord Gyles that his cough was sounding better, compliment Elinor Tyrell on her gown, and question Jalabhar Xho about wedding customs in the Summer Isles. His cousin Ser Lancel had been brought down by Ser Kevan, the first time he'd left his sickbed since the battle. He looks ghastly. Lancel's hair had turned white and brittle, and he was thin as a stick. Without his father beside him holding him up, he would surely have collapsed. Yet when Sansa praised his valor and said how good it was to see him getting strong again, both Lancel and Ser Kevan beamed. She would have made Joffrey a good queen and a better wife if he'd had the sense to love her
leadership skills
Jacen could feel the guilt and anger tearing his sister apart, though her emotions were so intermingled with his own that he could barely distinguish them. They shared a void that would never again be whole, an emptiness that he sensed pulling at Jaina like a vacuum breach. He laid a hand on her knee, hoping his touch might serve as her anchor.
“We can't give up. We still need to destroy the queen.”
[...]
“Jacen, this one has two shots, maybe three. We must destroy the queen.”
Jacen nodded. “And save—” He almost said Jaina, then caught himself. “—our friends on the shuttle.”
“You cannot do both,” Vergere warned. “‘The Yuuzhan Vong have a saying : “The fleet that fights two battles loses twice.’”
“Do we look like Yuuzhan Vong ?” Ganner demanded, pointing at his eyes. “We're Jedi.”
“So you are,” Vergere said midly. “But the Yuuzhan Vong have their strengths, as well. Do not dismiss those strengths because the Force is blind to them.”
“I don't,” Jacen said. “But we are going to win two battles—and here's how.”
He explained his plan to the others
She never knew why she got to her feet, but she did. “Don't be afraid,” she told them loudly. “The queen has raised the drawbridge. This is the safest place in the city. There's thick walls, the moat, the spikes...”
“What's happened ?” demanded a woman she knew slightly, the wife of a lesser lordling. “What did Osney tell her ? Is the king hurt, has the city fallen ?”
“Tell us,” someone else shouted. One woman asked about her father, another her son.
Sansa raised her hands for quiet. “Joffrey's come back to the castle. He's not hurt. They're still fighting, that's all I know, they're fighting bravely. The queen will be back soon.” The last was a lie, but she had to soothe them. She noticed the fools standing under the galley. “Moon Boy, make us laugh.”
seeing through the false pretense
“Speaking of worms,” he said, and he couldn't resist glancing at Randa as the Hutt left the shed. “Senator Shesh rubs me wrong.”
Jaina frowned. “But she's been named to the Advisory Council. She's practically the head of SELCORE.”
“I know,” Jacen said, “and SELCORE isn't exactly keeping its commitments. Think about the way she was standing, too. And that falseness in her tone of voice... The way she held herself, and that strange little smile. They reminded me of the holovids I've seen of another senator.”
Jaina twisted the mask in her lap. “I hate guessing games.”
“Palpatine, pre-Empire,” he explained. “When he was on his way up, and he didn't care who or what he destroyed to get there.”
The venom in his voice was so thick that for a moment she almost forgot that Lyn Corbray was her father's catspaw, bought and paid for. Or was he ? Perhaps, instead of being Petyr's man pretending to be Petyr's foe, he was actually his foe pretending to be his man pretending to be his foe
troubled relationship with their father
It was times like this that Han occasionally wished he had just a little of that Force ability to feel what others felt, because Jacen was a blank slate to him more often that not.
[...]
Ultimately it was because he just didn't understand the kid, and the kid hadn't a clue about Han.
Anakin he could understand. He used the Force in exactly the way Han would, if he had the ability. Jacen had always been more like Leia, and in the last year or so the resemblance had only grown stronger.
But here, suddenly, in the least flattering way he could imagine, the Solo genes were finally showing.
“Don't go, son,” Han murmured, but there was no one to hear him but the sleeping weapons
Sansa looked up from her food. “If she can have a dancing lesson, why won't you let me say farewell to Prince Joffrey ?”
“I would gladly go with her, Lord Eddard,” Septa Mordane offered. “There would be no question of her missing the ship.”
“It would not be wise for you to go to Joffrey right now, Sansa. I'm sorry.”
Sansa's eyes filled with tears. “But why ?”
“Sansa, your lord father knows best,” Septa Mordane said. “You are not to question his decisions.”
“It's not fair !” Sansa pushed back from her table, knocked over her chair, and ran weeping from the solar
troubled relationship with their younger sibling
“You fought with Anakin again,” Luke remarked to Jacen when he found his older apprentice sitting on the wall surrounding the Millennium Falcon's current dock, an open courtyard on planet Reecee.
[...]
“I found him practicing with his lightsaber,” Jacen replied honestly. “He wanted to see how far he's come, and so did I.”
“I'm not talking about the sword fight,” Luke explained. “Though I don't think that your father would be happy to hear that you two were wrestling with lightsabers in the main compartment of his ship. I'm talking about your war of words.”
That caught Jacen by surprise, and he stared at his uncle, his mentor, looking for some sign concerning Luke's feelings on the subject.
He couldn't read the man at all.
“An honest difference of opinion,” Jacen said, turning away. “That's all.”
“Concerning the role of the Jedi,” Luke said.
“Concerning the role of the Force,” Jacen corrected, turning back to face him.
Alone and humiliated, Sansa took the long way back to the inn, where she knew Septa Mordane would be awaiting. Lady padded quietly by her side. She was almost in tears. All she wanted was for things to be nice and pretty, the way they were in the songs. Why couldn't Arya be sweet and delicate and kind, like Princess Myrcella ? She would have liked a sister like that.
Sansa could never understand how two sisters, born only two years apart, could be so different
animal lovers
Jacen Solo had stayed at Luke Skywalker's Jedi academy for about a month before he managed to set up his room the way he wanted it.
[...]
As he did every morning before going to Uncle Luke's lessons, Jacen fed and took stock of all the bizarre and exotic creatures he had collected out in the unexplored jungles on Yavin 4. He liked to gather new pets.
The far wall stacked with bins and cages, transparent display cages and bubbling aquariums. Many of the containers were ingenious contraptions invented by his mechanically inclined sister. He appreciated Jaina's inventions, though he couldn't understand why she was more interested in the cages themselves than the creatures they contained
Sansa couldn't help but smile a little. The kennelmaster once told her that an animal takes after its master. She gave Lady a quick little hug. Lady licked her ear. Sansa giggled
deep connection to animals
He had always had a strange and deep affinity for living creatures, much as his sister had a talent for understanding machinery and gadgets. He could coax the animals with his special Force talent, getting them to come right up to him, where he could study them at his leisure
Strong hands grasped her by the shoulders, and for a moment Sansa thought it was her father, but when she turned, it was the burned face of Sandor Clegane looking down at her, his mouth twisted in a terrible mockery of a smile. “You are shacking, girl,” he said, his voice rasping. “Do I frighten you so much ?”
He did, and had since she had first laid eyes on the ruin that fire had made of his face, though it seemed to her now that he was not half so terrifying as the other. Still, Sansa wrenched away from him, and the Hound laughed, and Lady moved between them, rumbling a warning. Sansa dropped to her knees to wrap her arms around the wolf
Sansa Month 2023 : day eleven - parallels
#sansa stark#alayne stone#jacen solo#source: young jedi knights#source: the new jedi order#source: a game of thrones#source: a clash of kings#source: a storm of swords#source: the winds of winter#source: force heretic reunion japanese cover#source: game of thrones#star wars x asoiaf#kinda#star wars edits#asoiaf edits#made by me#asoiaf#game of thrones#star wars legends#star wars#sansamonth2023#sansastarkappreciationfest2023
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Lightfall, I loved it
First off: Story was great. Jot that down.
Second off: Strand is fun as fuck. Yes. Even Titan you whiny babies.
Third: Nimbus is the best egg. Anyone who finds them cringey or weird is just mad Cayde’s still dead. Love their silly quips. Love their excitability. If anything their VA could have been even more over the top.
Four: fucking Cayde memorial. Stop fucking asking. He’s dead. Get over it. Bungie has moved on. I know he was your favorite character. He still can be! He’s just. Dead.
Five: I love that Mara has been beaten down enough to have some actual fucking humility while still being That Bitch. Love that for her. I like Mara because she’s a bitch and a bad person.
Some more long thoughts below the cut. I do talk about the end cut scenes so lots of spoilers!
Why your bitching about the story is wrong
Story was great! Anyone who complains about the story I am SO sorry to tell you but its a shooty game. Just because it’s got lore doesn’t make it not a shallow shooty game where your main interaction with the narrative is ‘point gun/magic at enemy’. Halo’s story was not as great as you remember it. MC was still going around the narratie with ‘point gun at enemy’. Bungie has def gotten better at story telling but they’re still Bungie and still telling, honestly, pretty basic narratives. That is not a complaint. That is not a disparagement.
They are telling a banger of a cyclical epic while this is effectively ‘part two’ of a trilogy. Prequel was Beyond Light. Part one was WQ. Part 3 is Final Shape. This is the set up for the Final Shape. People going into it thinking this is not a second part of a three part story are out of their minds.This is not Return of the Jedi. This is Empire Strikes Back. Everyone get with the program 👏
Every. Single. Cutscene. Was. A. BANGER!
Every time we had a cutscene I was so excited and they were all done so beautifully! Our Guardian TALKED! And like talked a lot for us. Amazing. No notes. Every time our Ghost was Affected by the Veil or the Witness I had some INTENSE feelings.
Also the cutscene after we beat Calus? When Caiatl said ‘shoot it’ and we put our gun up to shoot our Ghost??? My heart was in my fucking throat. NOPE NOPE NOPE! Bungie how dare you! Especially bc Caiatl knows how important our Ghost is. I get why she’d say that in the moment but holy fuck. The noises of absolute distress I was making!!
Calus
I’ve seen some ‘Calus should have been more threatening’/’Calus should have killed the Witness’/’Calus xyz’ and YOU FOOL! Calus isn’t threatening and never has been to the Guardian. Even in Caiatl’s new lore we see Calus is not a threat and never has been. His hubris is greed and lust and desire for power. That was always going to be his undoing. And it was! He reached for glory and found it and just like Caiatl said found it... wanting. He held that goblet the entire time but it was never filled with wine. Calus was unfulfilled. That is the point. Calus is a creature of greed and avarice. He can never be satisfied. And because of that he can never be truly powerful, because he’s afraid. I believe even the Witness remarks on this.
Also people saying Calus should have just killed the Witness??? Fucking?? How?? We can’t even kill the Witness. How the fuck is he supposed to when he can barely keep his shit together.
The final showdown with him was pretty fucking fun. Me and a friend beat our heads against it super low level for a while, went and did seasonal content and then came back more leveled and wasted him. But when we were underleveled it was VERY threatening. Everything hurt. Everything wanted you dead. We did Strand once but that was a Mistake. Nailed him down with some Void subclasses and Ghally.
Osiris
Oh Osiris. I have so many feels about Osiris. He’s so... frantic and obsessed in the beginning. Desperate to be right and to have all his anxiety and fear validated. To show he can be trusted again. All of this was for Osiris feeling like he’d earned everyone’s trust again. That he wasn’t mad. That his visions from Savathun weren’t just more lies and trickery. And bro he’s SO ANGY in the first 2ish missions when we’re first learning to use Strand.
Osiris shows more emotion in like 4 lines of dialogue than we’ve seen from any other NPC in like 10 years holy shit. When he yells at you I fucking felt that. Holy shit.
This expac was for haughty fucks to get their temperance. And Osiris absolutely is a haughty fuck. He was so obsessed with the Veil and then had to be brought back to see what was actually happening out of his tunnel vision by the Cloud Striders (and us. Just bc Bungie doesn’t let us be in cut scenes doesn’t mean the Guardian/Ghost didn’t affect him).
Rohan
If anyone was surprised Rohan died I just wanna know... how??? As soon as I saw him interacting with Nimbus I was like ‘oh, he’s dead before this expac is over’ and yeap! He was. Like it’s the classic ‘old cop 4 days from retirement gets killed in the line of duty’ trope like I said Bungie tells very good basic ass stories and then the young rookie has to take over. I didn’t know how Rohan would die but as soon as he went into the mast both me and my friend said ‘oh he’s for SURE dead’.
And honestly I think his death was fine. It was a heroic sacrifice. Not much else you could want for a character like Rohan.
Nimbus
I started off not liking their voice. Not the actual voice but the mechanical/digitial overlays and tuning Bungie did to it. It was insanely grating on the ears. I’ve gotten used to it but I still don’t love it. I also think that below the collar bone their design is... weird. Idky their girdle is so fucking tight.
End of anything bad I have to say about Nimbus. Their the best. I love them so much I find them so charming and sweet and absolutely adorable. They’re so excited about living and helping people and being a Cloud Strider. They know a lot but still come across as... naive isn’t the word I want to use exactly but its that vibe of it. Innocent isn’t quite right either. They’re just so excited about who they are and what they do and fuck I love that for them.
I thought they way Bungie handled Nimbus not handling their grief was also pretty well done. Go with the flow only gets you so far but sometimes you need to just sit and reflect and be sad jfc.
Strand
I thought Stasis was pretty ham fisted in getting us to learn it in Lightfall. It was very much ‘go here, do the thing’ which I did not feel in Strand. Strand felt a lot more woven (heh) into the story and actually important to the story. I never felt like Stasis was other than we just wanted Eramis not to have it. It also helped us connect with Osiris and fulfilled his story line.
Love that you learn Strand just by using Strand and we don’t have those fucking HORRIBLE fragment/aspect missions like we did with Elsie. Omfg I’d have rather died than get Strand on all 3 of my characters.
I originally played Strand on my Titan and I don’t care what people say: Stand Titan is FUN. Like it’s so fun! I don’t find Void, Stasis, or Solar Titan to be very fun to play personally. I like to just hit things which is why I’m a HoIL Arc Titan scrub. I haven’t unlocked it fully yet tho but I’ve seen some Strand Titans in the battlegrounds and strikes and BRO! They are killing ittttttt
Now I’m playing on Hunter, my main and BOY! There is a lot to keep track of and its so... fuN! I am slowly learning how to properly micromanage my knife toss to catch it. I catch it probably... 75% of the time? But I have to be watching it. The catch is VERY forgiving thank god. And I have to fight between wanting to throw the knife ALL THE TIME (gambler’s dodge) and also using my dodge to suspend enemies which is ALSO so fucking fun! The super is a little... floaty and is a disc which is... so strange. It’s taking some getting used to that your super is a plane and not a rounded AOE. Which makes sense! It’s a rope dart but. I wish you could throw your rope down a bit easier.
Have not played any Warlock but my story buddy did and !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I NEED THREADLING FRIENDS SO MUCH!
Witness and Traveler
BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
Had a lotta headcanons validated in these cut scenes my dude. My YW can like... do a Light burst in my lore. Which is not healthy for her or anyone else btw and afterwards there’s just... spontaneous plant growth. LIKE HELL YEAH!!! Traveler fucking shooting a fucking terraforming beam RIGHT at the Witness? Fucking cool as shit.
The only reason I wasn’t screaming during the final cut scene was because I was on vc and that’s rude. But BRO!! BRO BRO BROO BOR BRO BRO
what the fuck
Admittedly: super fucking confusing. Witness used the Veil to connect to... something? I haven’t read the lore books yet. And then teleported there? Also the fucking Traveler’s got a TRIANGLE ON IT NOW!?!? Is the Traveler dead? It can’t be dead we still use the Light. And now the Witness is gone after cutting a hole in our ball and took six fucking Pyramid ships with it...
that cANNOT BE GOOD
Season of Defiance
Mara’s got some fucking humility. Love that for her. But god she can’t be humble without also rubbing out noses in the fact that she’s ‘amazing’ and perfect and going to protect and save us or whatever. *gag* The fact that she talks to us like a person and not a thing (which she was doing in Season of Lost) is a HUGE step forward. Love it when a bitch gets some character development. But also love she’s still a bitch. Mara stans/girlbossers DNI. She sucks and I like that.
I’m side eyeing Bungie so hard with the Amanda stuff. If they make Amanda/Crow canon I will be very upset. I think Amanda is one of the most boring NPCs in the game. Like Light doesn’t make you interesting. She’s just not. So sorry for Amanda likers out there. But also I think Bungie knows so many people ship their Guardian with Crow I don’t think they’d do that.
BUT! I do want Crow to have friends and I want Crow and Amanda to be friends! I’m glad Bungie just didn’t hand wave the fact that Crow is Uldren away and make Amanda cool with him. I’m glad this will take a bit to reconcile. If they ever properly do.
The battleground thing is fine. Just the same shit we’ve been doing before. I’m super excited for a formula change up Bungie said they were doing in coming seasons!
Commendations
They’re fun! Give them to people fuck. I ran a battleground and someone just left without giving any. Wtf man????
Neonumi NPCs
The Neonumi who give us patrol bounties??? Sam, Sid (?) and... librarian fuck I forget her name. All them?? LOVE THEM! They’re all so actually rather fleshed out and have distinct personalities. I think they’re all great!
The Veil
I for sure thought they were gonna cuck us on seeing the Veil. Like what’s it do? What’s it look like? Well what it does is be a McGuffin. Like I’m still not 100% on what it is exactly?? Like it’s a power source and attuned to the Light? But idky Witness wants it so bad :Y I’ll have to dive in the lore later.
Also I was SO emotional when we first saw the Veil. Standing over it and looking down I got a little teary?
Also also; its an eye? When we were under the Veil its tendrils looked like the back of your eye, the optic nerve. And then in the second phase of the Calus fight it grows longer and absolutely looks like an optic nerve.
Exotic Rohan Quest
I thought it was fun! Hot take: I like that raid XD I think Garden of Salvation is a good raid y’all are just mean/don’t know how to build platforms at the boss. Love going into Garden and seeing the beautiful skyboxes and the Black Garden itself. GoS is a BEAUTIFUL raid too omg. My friend had only been in GoS once to get Div when you could fuck around with 12 man fireteams. So it was neat we got to go back!
Andddddd I think that’s it! For now.
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Self-promotion Saturday
Haha, I'ma call this self-promotion because this little thing that's not a story and not quite a poem has been overlooked on AO3 and didn't get any love on the poetry page I belong to on FB (buncha strait-laced older Christians on there, methinks). I thought this might be a better place to share it; there might be more people who can relate here.
I wrote this "prayer" for Miranja as a way to try to explain her passion for so many people (mostly followers). I also wrote it before I wrote the part of DwD where she takes Talvas to Skyrim and falls more and more in love with him. And of course, this was toward the beginning of Miranja's adventures, when she was still impulsive and naive and not as wise.
See if you can guess who she's talking about. (Obviously, those who have read DwD will have an advantage...)
Tagging my friends but no obligation to dig something up to share! @dirty-bosmer @gwilin-stay-winnin @mareenavee @skyrim-forever @thana-topsy @thechaosdragoness @thequeenofthewinter
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I traverse the wilds of my country, places where none but the wild beasts, black-hearted bandits, and necromancers hide. I act as savior of my countrymen and destroyer of the evil lurking in the dark
corners. My traveling companions vary, but we defend each other to the death; they know my mission and support me wholeheartedly. With each victory, our blood and spirits high, we love each other primally and celebrate the gift of the breath of life we still draw in through our flaring nostrils. Their strength and courage draw me irresistibly, and I know it is the same for them. Our senses are intimately familiar with the sight, sound, scent, taste, and touch of each other. Our hearts and bodies are inextricably bound by the survival we afford each other. We are warriors, and our hearts beat strong, proud, and free.
Yet there is one who draws my soul to him like no other… not a warrior but a gentle, loving scholar. He is content to be settled in one place, a quiet, welcoming merchant, bringing light to his corner of the world. He is soft-spoken, honorable, and skilled in wordcraft. His gentle voice, adoring eyes, and tender, velvet touch elicit feelings in me that no one else has ever given me. Wherever I am, whoever I am with, my thoughts return to him, and I anguish over this love. I feel that he wants to have my heart exclusively, and it is true that I burn for him, but my wild and loving heart can never belong to one person alone, and I cannot make the same commitment to him that he wants to make to me.
Why does society seem to seek to restrain hearts like mine that burn hot and need to be constantly tempered and its warmth and light shared with the world? A fire does not diminish when it is shared. Why do jealousy and possessiveness exist? My many loves all know their worth and know the intensity and depth of my love for them, and I value this tender man above all the others. Yet, if he truly knows my heart and soul, then he knows he cannot lay claim to any part of me, close his fingers around me, else I will suffocate and die. How can I convince him to simply hold out the palm of his hand and know that I will always fly back to him, that his soul is the home for my soul?
Lady Mara, please work your loving magic in his heart and show him the true depth of my love for him. Let him know that his is the star in the heavens that guides my path, and that path will ever lead to him as long as we both draw breath. Let him know that my life would have an unfillable void without him. Let it be enough for him.
#skyrim#elder scrolls#miranja#tesblr#fanfic#ao3#slutty dragonborn#tanithia writes#lady mara also has some work to do in Miranja's rather reckless heart
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Writer Questions Tag
Tagged by @writernopal here. I love these questions, thanks for the tag!
Gently tagging: @clairelsonao3 @gummybugg @rachaellawrites @zmwrites
What is your absolute all-time favorite idea you’ve ever had?
I am equally proud of Silver Sentinels and Ascension. The magic system in S.S is really cool to me, and I’m having a lot of fun creating it. I also really love the magical creatures!! With Ascension, I have been creating my own mythology within the world as well as creating an entire species, and that’s something I’ve never done before and it is going to be incredible.
Is there a question you’ve been asked in the past that really stands out to you, and you still think about sometimes?
Not really, but I’ve only really begun sharing my writing and talking to other writers for a few months.
What is your favorite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?
I love being able to navigate complex themes and emotions in a variety of different ways. Playing with different writing styles to mess with people’s heads is one of my favorite things to do, because I’m secretly evil. The one thing I wish I could get rid of is the guilt of not being able to dedicate myself to my writing all the time. I am so, so passionate about my two stories but with the little free time I have it’s hard to get in the right mindset, and I feel like I’m letting myself down.
What is your greatest motivation to write/create?
Initially, I just wanted to have a bit of fun. Recently, I fell in love with storytelling again when I watched this show called The Owl House. It was unfortunately struck down in its prime by D*sney and even though there was a series finale, a lot of its world building fell flat when the writers were unable to continue developing it. It broke my heart, and a week after I finished it I got the idea for S.S. It’s like my subconscious was trying to tell me that I could fill the void myself.
What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever read or been given as a writer?
Give yourself permission to suck, especially in first drafts.
I struggle a lot with just getting the story out because I feel like everything I write is incoherent, but I also am getting really into my own plot so I want to keep going. I just have to remind myself that it’s okay if it’s not amazing right now.
What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?
You can literally do whatever you want. If someone doesn’t like the direction you’re taking, they just won’t read it. You’ll find an audience some day. Just give in and be your weirdest self.
What is your favorite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!
404. Page not found. (Haha, you guys finish stuff?)
What is your favorite out-of-the-box quote?
“The real violence, the violence I realized was unforgivable, is the violence that we do to ourselves, when we're too afraid to be who we really are.”
~Nomi Marks, Sense8 (my fave tv show)
Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so, and how do you personally feel about their ideals?
This is such a difficult question, but I’m going to go with Oliver, from S.S. His mindset is to basically do the bare minimum and expect everything to fall into place. Even from Ch. 2-4 he doesn’t even apologize or try to make amends, he just assumes Mara will forgive him because he got himself exiled too.
I think he’s a big dumb idiot, but I don’t think I try to hide that. He’s going to have very little development in book one for the sole purpose of me using him as a punching bag, so his idiocy is tolerated for now.
If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?
I think she would be super sad to know we became estranged from our longtime RP friends, but she would be absolutely floored that I’m attempting to write not one, but TWO multi-book series. At the SAME time. Yeah, little dude, we created characters in other people’s worlds, and now we create our own.
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A Game of Twenty Questions (Flash Fiction Friday/NaNoWriMo Snippet)
wip: Daisy Chains wc: 581 prompt: @flashfictionfridayofficial I can't tell notes: my inability to write in chronological order will be the death of me lmao. this is like, probably, an act two scene. but! liked writing it. prompt gave me some good inspiration.
The room is too warm. Heavily perfumed air cloys her senses, floral and damp, and Mara suppresses a gag as she makes her way to the large windows, shoving them open with urgency, hoping it help eases the smell and cools her off. She breathes in, slightly fresher air slipping inside, and sits down on the cushioned bench that lines the curved windows. Mara slumps down, squeezing her eyes shut, and fists her hands against the soft velvet fabric beneath her, sinking into the overly plush cushions.
What in the hell has she gotten herself into?
She swallows tightly, panic creeping in as the situation finally crashes into her. This is unbelievable. A dream. A nightmare. It cannot be real. But she thinks about the dead phone in her pocket, the monstrous greenery that surrounds. . .wherever she is, the otherworldly inhabitants that she’s unfortunately met.
This isn’t Grenville, that’s for goddamn sure.
Her silent guard takes point at the entrance, facing the interior of the room, and Mara knows that they’re watching her, gaze burning into her despite the mask covering their face.
She wants to tell them to get the hell out, but Mara doubts they will listen to her.
A guard. Christ. More like a warden.
Mara scoffs and opens her eyes to glare at the guard. “I guess you won’t tell me where I am?” she asks, sitting up just a bit.
Silence answers her.
“Could you tell me your name at least? Or what I can call you?”
They don’t even twitch. The black shiny armor mocks her, covering the guard from head to toe, meanwhile she feels more exposed than ever despite her loose jeans and sweater. She crosses her arms over her chest. “You can take off the helmet, you know? Not like I can hurt you,” Mara says the last part under her breath, noting the sword sheath at the guard’s side.
Even more nothing. Fantastic.
Wait.
“Do you even understand English?” she asks, frowning. Mara got lucky — or, well, unlucky — with Wyn and his father, but if this is some anachronistic void or whatever, maybe the guard doesn’t know the language.
Mara huffs, rubbing a hand across her face, when she hears a slow creak. She drops her hand and looks back at the guard whose nodding, metal helmet protesting the movement.
Straightening up, Mara arches an eyebrow. “Can you talk?”
The guard shakes their head slowly, with a considerable amount of effort, before resuming that same frozen stance.
“Why?”
Her face heats up. “Sorry, dumb question. Forget I asked.”
The guard’s fingers flex at their sides, a slow curl of long slim digits, and Mara watches, fascinated yet disturbed, at the jerky, stilted movements of the guard’s arm as it raises from their side. Almost like they were fighting against something to move their own body at will. It takes a few moments, but then the guard reaches up to press their hand against their covered throat with another slow shake of their head.
“Is it —“ she groans; Mara can’t believe she’s about to ask this “— magic? Is that what’s stopping you?”
A nod. The arm falls back to their side.
“Does it hurt? Trying to answer?”
The guard nods once again.
Mara grimaces. No more questions then. She bites at her lip, looking at the guard, at the vast room they’re both trapped in, and breathes out deeply.
“I’m sorry,” she says, lost as to what to say. “That sounds like it fucking sucks.”
#my writing#wip: daisy chains#nanowrimo#flashfictionfridayofficial#writeblr#writerblr#original fiction
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What is Monsieur D'Arque’s role in Frollo’s cult, how was he redeemed from magic, what is his social standing, and does he have any kids (‘adopted’ or biological)?
This is the twisted tale version of him, where he was born with a magical precognitive ability but, due to multiple lobotomies he conducted on himself, was "cured." He's an example of how the magic abomination can be "cured," though any Isle kid will readily point out that what he did to himself has never been replicated. In fact, it usually has the opposite effect and thank you for the monstrosities.
On the Isle, high social standing means people are afraid of you and gods, people are afraid of D'Arque. They have seen what he does to people. Everyone has seen Rosalind have panic attacks so severe that she literally drains the life out of people around her to gain magic to protect herself. Everyone has seen Nikita Rasputin and Bloody Mary Mim. Everyone has heard Mara Winchester talk about the monsters in the Sanitarium. He can turn people into things that have should not exist in this natural or supernatural world, he creates abominations. Kids who possess their own corpses, people who can destroy souls, the Monstrosity every young Isle kid hopes is just a myth but every older one remembers- D'Arque has made things that should not exist and he will do it again. People stay away from him.
He does have two- Tarzan and Tara. Tara ran away from home when she was four and, when Tarzan tried to stop D'Arque from going after her, he found himself one of the experiments. No one knows what happened to him- most people think not even Tara knows- but the day he broke out when he was ten, the moon flew across the sky in an unnatural eclipse and the Isle was cast into shadow from which things beyond comprehension reached. The spell only lasted fifteen minutes but gods, what a fifteen minutes (these fifteen minutes were later called "Infinity Day," because they felt like a full day.) The combined efforts of Facilier, Hades, Maleficent, Chernabog, Maverick, Mara, Mary, and the Horned King kept those Things from sticking around and doing any damage, but just barely. What Tarzan could have done is beyond comprehension. Yeah, D'Arque has kids. Tara, the sweet little girl with a stutter and a smile that can light up a room, and Tarzan, who opened portals into The Void and called upon things beyond comprehension. You don't mess with the D'Arque twins.
#tarzan d'arque#tara d'arque#descendants#descendants au#isle of darkness#original character#the darkness speaks#descendants oc
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