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sprawberry · 2 months ago

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𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 : 3.6k ‹𝟹

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 : Arthur Morgan x F!reader. You were a very young bride falling in love with a man who was nothing but a farce, enduring years trapped in a horrible and abusive marriage. You meet Arthur, with the promise of a better future. ‹𝟹

𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 : Hello! So...I was in a very strange mood and I decided to write this one, I had this idea for actually a good few months but this time I finally put it down instead of using it as a recurrent scenario in my mind.

This is the first time I'm posting something like this here so...enjoy! Sorry if it gets boring or something, I'm a disgrace with dialogue and this was a very wild shot lol. Feedback is appreciated always.. ‹𝟹

🧸 & 🧸 ‹𝟹

You should have listened to your parents when they whispered warnings about him, their voices laced with worry as they tried to tell you the truth hidden behind his charming smile. But you, blinded by the intoxicating idea of love, thought they were just trying to stand between you and your perfect future. You were so young, so naïve, and he was almost ten years older, wiser, with promises of the world at your fingertips.

He swept you off your feet with grand gestures: the dream house, children, fancy clothes, and dinners at tables you’d never seen before. He spoke of a life you never had, feeding you sweet words as though he could erase the struggles of your youth with luxury. But you didn’t realize, not until it was too late, that he didn’t love you, he loved the idea of owning something beautiful, something fragile. You were never more than a pretty thing to him, a prize for display, and by the time you saw the truth, it was already too late.

Once the honeymoon was over, that picture-perfect dream crumbled, leaving you trapped in a gilded cage. Instead of being happy and loved, you became a prisoner in your own home.

Years passed, and the mansion, once a dream, became your prison. You wandered its vast, cold hallways like a ghost, barely existing, never free. You weren’t allowed outside, not allowed to live. He controlled everything, your life, your children, even your thoughts. You lived for the moments when you were alone with your books, imagining a world where you could be free. But freedom felt impossible, a distant dream too far out of reach.

Even your children, the only light left in your life, were kept from you, locked away by his paranoia. He was convinced you’d ruin them, that your only contribution to their lives was the beauty you gave them. He told you so, over and over until the words sank in like poison. After all those years, it broke your heart that you believed him.

His wealth was built on secrets, the kind of shady dealings you were never allowed to question. Late-night meetings with town politicians and criminals weren’t unusual in your home, the smell of expensive cigars and hushed conversations lingering long after the guests had left. You were always present but never really there, a decoration, something for him to parade in front of his associates like a prized possession.

He would place a hand on your back, guiding you into the room, his eyes gleaming with pride as he introduced you. "My beautiful wife, yet her body is more useful than her brain," he'd say with a chuckle, and they would laugh with him, nodding in approval. You were supposed to laugh, too, forced to flash a smile that never reached your eyes.

In those moments, you felt more like an ornament than a person, a living, breathing doll meant to be admired, but never truly valued. His grip on you was suffocating, tightening with each public display, as if his words kept binding you deeper into a life you could never escape. The weight of their laughter echoed in your ears long after they left, and every time he kissed your cheek in front of them, you felt yourself disappear just a little more.

You found solace in the smallest of things, the tasks you could perform around the house without drawing his disapproving gaze. The delicate act of watering the plants or dusting the bookshelves became a quiet rebellion, a way to keep your mind occupied while the rest of your life felt out of your control. But it was the garden, those carefully tended beds of flowers, that brought you the most peace. Every spring, as the roses bloomed and the trees filled with new life, you felt a fleeting sense of freedom, even if only for a moment.

That day was no different. You were given a brand new dress, elegant but understated, signaling that guests would soon arrive. The familiar routine played out like clockwork, he made sure you looked the part, beautiful but not so dazzling as to outshine him. The fabric swished as you moved, and though the dress was lovely, it felt like another cage.

You stole glances out the window, watching the garden sway gently in the breeze, its beauty untamed compared to the rigid, controlled world inside. You knew the house would soon be filled with laughter, cigars, and the empty praise of those who admired you as a trophy. But for now, you had the flowers. And in their quiet blooming, you saw the reflection of what your life could be if only you were free enough to reach for it.

The footsteps of your husband approaching echoed down the hall, pulling you from the window. You sighed, smoothing the fabric of your dress, and prepared to step into the role he’d crafted for you once again.

"Dutch Van der Linde, I'm glad you came", your husband said, extending his hand with that calculated charm he was so known for. His fingers rested on the small of your back, a possessive gesture masked as affection. "And your associates, of course," he added, his voice smooth as ever.

You were barely paying attention to the formalities, the cordial exchanges that had become a monotonous part of your life. The room felt distant like you were standing there but floating somewhere else entirely. Your gaze softened, unfocused until a small shift in the air brought you back. You blinked slowly, forcing yourself to return to the present as your husband and his associates retreated into his office.

But one of them lingered in your mind.

You hadn't noticed him at first, he was just another face in a crowd of men your husband normally entertained, and to be honest, you never paid much attention to those who came and went.

But there was something in the way he looked at you, something unspoken in the warmth of his small smile. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it struck you deeply. The kindness in his expression, the quiet acknowledgment in his eyes, it was so different from the cold, calculated glances you were used to.

For a brief moment, you nearly smiled back. It felt strange, like an old reflex you hadn’t used in years. The simple exchange, so casual yet delicate, left an unexpected warmth in your chest. And as your husband’s voice trailed off into the distance, you couldn’t help but wonder, what was it about him that made you feel seen, if only for a fleeting second?

With that thought burning in your mind, you did something reckless, something you knew deep down you probably shouldn’t have. As the evening unfolded and the guests began to depart, instead of retreating to your bedroom as usual, you lingered in the hallway, heart pounding. You waited. You wanted to see him one last time.

Oh, Arthur. That was his name. You’d heard the Dutch guy mention it in passing as they discussed some murky business you had no interest in. You didn’t care about the details. All you cared about was catching another glimpse of him, those blue eyes that had met yours with something you hadn’t felt in years.

You stood quietly by the grand staircase, hidden enough to remain unnoticed but close enough to see. As the men filtered out, you scanned the room until your eyes found him. Arthur. He was different from the rest of them, or so you thought, rough around the edges but with a presence that seemed grounded, real. And when he glanced your way, just for a second, his eyes softened again. It was that small look, that brief acknowledgement, that felt like a lifeline in the endless sea. Your breath caught in your throat. His smile, faint yet kind, was enough to make your heart ache in a way you hadn’t felt in so long.

And though he was leaving, though you knew you might never see him again, you couldn’t help but wish, desperately, that those warm blue eyes would find you just once more before he disappeared from your world forever.

One particular night, under a silver-washed sky, you drifted through the quiet shadows of the garden, where the moon hung high, illuminating every petal and leaf. Inside, laughter spilt over like cheap champagne, glasses clinking and voices rising in an annoying clashing harmony, one you had no part in.

It was your home, they all said. But within those walls, your presence was a ghostly afterthought, a figure to be ignored or displayed as it suited him. So you slipped out, slipping into the garden's quiet embrace—a place where you could finally breathe.

The night air was cool, and you felt a weight lift from your chest with each step into the hushed stillness.

You leaned against the old stone wall, letting your mind wander with the breeze that stirred the hedges, feeling, just for a moment, that you belonged to something beyond those oppressive walls. In the moonlit quiet, surrounded by the scent of blooms and damp soil, you almost forgot the life you left behind indoors, that gilded cage.

“Miss, ain’t it a bit cold to be out here all alone?” The voice came soft and low, like the distant rumble of thunder before a storm, and it pulled you sharply from your quiet reverie. The faint scent of cigarettes filled the air as you turned, caught off guard, and there he was, Arthur, framed in shadow and starlight, looking even more striking than your memory had dared to capture. His eyes catching the silver moonlight, tracing over you with a subtle warmth.

A month had passed since that fleeting moment in the were your eyes met, yet here he was as if pulled by the same invisible thread that had tugged at your heart all those long nights. His gaze lingered, and a soft smile touched his lips, a smile that felt like it could chase the chill from the air.

And the first time in so long, words caught in your throat. You could only look at him, feeling the world fall away, leaving just the two of you under that deep, star-filled sky.

The chill of the evening wrapped around you, yet his nearness was a quiet warmth you couldn’t ignore. “It's alright, I'm not cold.” You whispered, the words slipping out steady even though your heart betrayed you, hammering as if it sensed the weight of this moment.

Arthur’s gaze held yours, deep and steady, as if he were looking straight into you. He didn’t need to say anything; the look in his eyes was a silent promise, an unspoken invitation that pulled you in. A gentle breeze brushed past, lifting a few strands of your hair, and he reached out, fingertips just grazing your cheek as he tucked them back.

His touch lingered, a fleeting warmth that made the coldness around you dissolve. “Figured you might need some company.” He murmured, voice so low it barely broke the night air. His hand dropped, hovering close, waiting. And in that small space between you, there was a sense of home you’d been missing, a kind of peace you hadn’t felt in years.

A soft smile curved on your lips. “What a gentleman." You murmured back, amusement sparking in your eyes. “Offering company to a stranger.”

Arthur’s brow lifted slightly, a glint of knowing in his gaze as he replied, “You ain’t no stranger.” He leaned in just a little, his voice dipping to something almost conspiratorial. “You’re the lady of the house, ain’t ya?”

The title felt foreign, heavy even. Lady of the house, how odd it sounded coming from him, as though he were trying to fit you into a shape someone else had carved. You didn’t answer right away, letting the weight of it settle. Finally, you nodded, just a breath of agreement. Even if you both already knew who the other was.

“But I reckon you don’t feel much like one, do ya?” he asked, studying you with a kind of quiet understanding that threatened to undo you right there.

"How could you even know that?" The words slipped out before you could stop them, raw and honest, and for a moment, you wanted to kick yourself for laying so bare before this near stranger.

Arthur didn’t flinch. He only held your gaze, his eyes softened by something deeper than pity, an understanding that felt like a balm and a wound all at once. He shrugged, almost casual, as if he hadn’t just seen right through you.

It was strange, really. A part of you knew you should bristle at his casual insight, that you ought to defend your position, to guard the fragile narrative of your life. Yet, standing there beneath the moon's watchful gaze, a magnetic pull urged her to lean into the honesty of the moment.

"Just a feeling," he murmured, his voice low, steady. "Seen that look before, y’know? Same as the ones trapped and miserable, thinkin’ the walls don’t show."

His presence felt like an open door, an invitation to unburden her heart, to spill her secrets onto the floor between them. You felt the weight of your words pressing against her throat, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you wanted to share every scar and shadow.

"It's not what it seems." You found herself saying, your voice barely above a whisper, each word a fragile thread that could unravel at any moment. "I’m more of a prisoner than a lady."

The night wrapped around them like a silken veil, soft and tender, and for a fleeting moment, she almost forgot where you were. Her gaze met his, and the warmth in his eyes melted away her walls. He didn’t look at you the way others did, there was no judgment, no pity.

“Tell me." He said, voice barely above a whisper, the gentle gravel in it like music. “If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?”

Your breath caught, and you tried to laugh, but it came out as a shaky sigh. “Somewhere far from here." You replied, looking away, though the longing in your heart felt almost too fragile to share. “Somewhere I could just… breathe.”

Slowly, his hand came to rest on your cheek, grounding you, his touch gentle yet electrifying. You looked back up at him, surprise mingling with the quiet thrill that rippled through you. “I could take you.” He said softly, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, but there was something else, too—a promise wrapped in his words, as if he truly meant it with all his heart. “Just say the word, and I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

For a moment, you allowed herself to imagine it, just the two of you, leaving the mansion’s heavy walls behind, escaping the life that held her captive. You let the dream fill your mind, painting a picture of freedom in his arms, of waking to gentle mornings where laughter replaced fear.

“Arthur.” You whispered, his name slipping from your lips like a secret, one you hadn’t known you'd been keeping. Your pulse raced, your heart pounding in your chest, and you found yourself leaning closer, drawn in by the warmth radiating from him.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” You murmured, your voice barely steady, though you couldn’t hide the yearning that laced your words.

“Maybe not.” He replied, his eyes tracing the lines of her face, drinking in every detail as though you were a rare and beautiful thing he wanted to memorize. “But I know I’ve never met anyone like you, and I know I’d do just about anything to see ya safe.”

The words hung between them, charged with the weight of possibility, and you felt something shift within you, a stirring of hope that tasted bittersweet. “I don’t even know who I am outside of this place." You confessed, barely able to hold his gaze, afraid he’d see the depth of your vulnerability.

“You’re more than this.” He said, voice as steady and sure as the earth beneath their feet. His fingers brushing her cheek, lingering just a heartbeat longer than necessary, his calloused thumb tracing your lower lip. “You’re strong, more than you know. And if you ever want to find out who that person is, I’ll be right here.”

A shiver ran through you, though it wasn’t from the cold. Your heart felt full and fragile all at once, and you found herself leaning into his touch, just the faintest tilt of her head, but enough to feel his warmth seep into your skin.

“And...what if I wanted to be with you?” You whispered, the words leaving you before you could second-guess them.

In the soft, quiet night, with only the stars bearing witness, you closed your eyes and leaned into him, the weight of the world slipping away, if only for a heartbeat. And in that embrace, you found a glimmer of herself, mirrored back in the warmth of his arms, a fragile piece of happiness cradled between them, ready to grow.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, gentle yet filled with something deep and unspoken. He cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing small, comforting circles. “Then we’d find a way." He murmured, his voice a promise, rich and soothing, as though he could already see their escape in some distant dawn. “Ain't never let you face it alone.”

As days slipped by, that promise he made wrapped itself around your heart, tugging softly with each stolen glance and whispered word. Those midnight clandestine encounters in the hidden corners of the garden, were yours alone.

In those moments, the mansion and all its trappings faded away, leaving only the two of you, a world built from whispered secrets and lingering touches.

At first, it was all so gentle. His hand would brush against yours, fingers lingering for a heartbeat too long, an unspoken language only you both understood. His gaze held a softness you had never seen before, something that softened the edges of your bruised heart, making it flutter with a sweetness you hadn’t known you could feel again. Or at all to be honest.

But it grew, like a spark catching in dry tinder, his touch became something fierce, driven by longing that simmered just beneath the surface. Those touches turned electric, his hands finding your face, your shoulders, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine as if memorizing every inch, every hollow, and line of you. In the quiet dark, he became bolder, lips brushing over your cheek, the corner of your mouth, as if testing the waters of a dream he was afraid to shatter.

And then, one night, all pretense faded. Under the stars, he pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as if he could hold the weight of your sorrows and make them vanish. His lips found yours, soft yet sure, a kiss that spoke of all the promises he couldn’t yet give voice to. It was fierce and tender, full of longing that had been held back for too long, and you melted into him, feeling the strength of his arms, the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms.

Each touch both hesitant and urgent, as though he was savoring and devouring all at once. His hands were steady on you, protective, as though you were something precious and precarious, yet there was a fierce devotion in his hold, a hint of need that spoke volumes of all he kept contained.

He drew you in, closing every inch until nothing separated you, his lips melding with yours, each press and taste a promise, a claim. His hands moved along your back with a firm reverence, grounding you, until the world faded and all that remained was the shared warmth, the silent understanding woven in the spaces between breaths.

In that instant, the world seemed to dissolve, slipping away as you became tethered only to him and the fierce, unyielding pull between you. Your fingers tightened in his shirt, clutching as though you could anchor yourself within him, merge with him, dissolve the space that still somehow lingered. Each breath, each shiver became shared, the air thick with an almost reverent desperation.

His lips left yours, and the absence was agonizing, only to be replaced by the feverish touch as he traced his way along the curve of your neck, each kiss a spark that ignited something deeper within. When he whispered your name, it was low, raw, a sound that clung to your skin like an invocation, his breath warm against you.

Together, you lost track of time, wrapped in the heat of each other, a silent vow exchanged in every shared breath, every racing heartbeat. There, in the secret dark, you were free, free to feel, to want, to imagine a life where the nights stretched on like this forever. And as you clung to each other, you realized that he had given you something your husband never could: love.

And with that resolve warming your heart, the decision became clear. You deserved happiness, a life spent with someone who looked at you with the unwavering affection that Arthur did, who saw you for everything you were, flaws and all. The promise he’d made, that quiet vow on the night of your first meeting, lingered like a light guiding your way.

In Arthur’s gaze, you found the reflection of a life you’d thought impossible, a life where love was more than a duty, where devotion was tender and free. So you held onto that promise, your heart certain at last.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #rd2 x reader #arthur morgan x you #read dead redemption 2 #mielits

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matcha3mochi · 4 months ago

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poly! gojo satoru x geto suguru x reader x nanami kento

૮₍´˶• . • ⑅ ₎ა

It started innocently enough. You were lounging on the couch, snuggled up with a blanket and a good book, while the boys were in the kitchen, supposedly having a “serious discussion.” You weren’t paying much attention until you heard Gojo’s voice, louder than usual, followed by Geto’s laughter and Nanami’s exasperated sigh.

Curiosity piqued, you set your book aside and peeked into the kitchen. To your surprise, you found Gojo holding a plate with a single, lonely cookie, his usual mischievous grin plastered on his face. Geto was leaning against the counter, trying and failing to suppress his laughter, while Nanami looked like he was ready to give up on life.

“What’s going on?” you asked, stepping into the kitchen.

“Just in time!” Gojo exclaimed, waving the cookie in the air like it was some sort of prized possession. “We were discussing who should get the last cookie.”

“It’s my cookie,” Nanami said flatly, rubbing his temples as if he was already developing a headache from dealing with Gojo.

“But I found it,” Gojo countered, holding the cookie just out of Nanami’s reach. “And possession is nine-tenths of the law.”

“You found it in the jar that belongs to everyone,” Geto pointed out, still chuckling. “Maybe we should let the fairest among us decide.”

All three of them turned to look at you, and you suddenly found yourself at the center of a cookie custody battle. You raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face. “You’re all seriously fighting over one cookie?”

“It’s the principle of the matter,” Gojo said, his grin widening. “And the cookie smells really good.”

“Maybe we should just split it,” you suggested, reaching for the plate.

But Gojo, being Gojo, pulled it away with a dramatic gasp. “How dare you suggest such a thing! This is a whole cookie we’re talking about! You can’t just split it—it’ll lose its essence!”

“Essence?” Nanami repeated, deadpan. “It’s a cookie, not a cursed object.”

“Are we sure about that?” Geto added with mock seriousness, leaning closer to inspect the cookie. “Maybe it’s cursed to cause endless arguments.”

“Too late, it already has,” Nanami muttered.

You sighed, shaking your head. “This is ridiculous. Just give me the cookie, and I’ll—”

Before you could finish your sentence, Gojo pulled the ultimate betrayal. With a sly wink, he tossed the cookie in the air and caught it in his mouth, chewing it with exaggerated delight.

The room went silent. Geto stared at Gojo in disbelief, while Nanami’s expression darkened in a way that made you take a small step back.

“Gojo,” Nanami began slowly, “you have just made a very grave mistake.”

“Oh? What are you going to do about it?” Gojo taunted, crumbs falling from his lips as he smirked.

In a move so swift you almost missed it, Nanami grabbed a pillow from one of the kitchen chairs and smacked Gojo across the face. The sound of impact was satisfying, and Gojo stumbled back in shock, blinking owlishly.

Geto burst out laughing, doubling over as he clutched his sides. “Oh, that was beautiful, Nanami. Truly.”

Gojo recovered quickly, though, and his eyes lit up with that familiar mischievous glint. “Oh, it’s on now.”

Before you knew it, Gojo had grabbed a pillow of his own, and Geto quickly followed suit. The kitchen erupted into chaos as pillows were swung, feathers flew, and laughter filled the air. You tried to stay out of it, really you did, but when Gojo turned on you with a devious grin, you knew there was no escape.

“Oh no, you don’t!” you shouted, grabbing the nearest pillow to defend yourself.

The next few minutes were a blur of swinging pillows, laughter, and the occasional yelp as someone got a particularly good hit in. Nanami, ever the strategist, managed to trap Gojo in a corner, while Geto attempted to double-cross him by switching sides at the last minute. You, meanwhile, found yourself ducking and dodging, trying to avoid being caught in the crossfire.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, you all collapsed in a heap on the floor, breathless and giggling. The kitchen was a mess—feathers everywhere, pillows askew, and the remnants of the cookie still scattered on the counter.

“That,” Gojo panted, lying flat on his back, “was the most fun I’ve had in ages.”

“I’m going to have to clean this up,” Nanami said, but there was a small smile on his face that softened the usual edge in his voice.

“You started it,” Geto pointed out, poking him in the side.

“And I’ll finish it,” Nanami replied, sitting up and brushing feathers out of his hair.

You laughed, feeling a warm sense of contentment wash over you as you looked at the three of them. Sure, the kitchen was a disaster, and you’d probably be picking feathers out of your hair for days, but it was worth it. These were the moments you treasured—the laughter, the playful bickering, the way they all made you feel like you belonged.

“Next time,” you said, grinning as you nudged Gojo with your foot, “I’m hiding the last cookie.”

He looked up at you with a smirk. “We’ll find it. We always do.”

“Not if I eat it first,” Geto chimed in.

Nanami sighed but didn’t argue. “Let’s just agree to make more cookies next time.”

“Deal,” you all agreed in unison.

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inaconstantstateofchange · 6 months ago

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okay so when reading the final chapter of svsss volume three, the interactions between yue qingyuan and tianlang-jun are so—

Shen Qingqiu wanted to say something when Tianlang-Jun raised his chin, squinting at Yue Qingyuan. “I remember you.” After thinking for a bit, he said with conviction, “Back then, the Huan Hua Palace’s old geezer wanted you to help him with the ambush, but you ignored him. So you’re the current sect leader of Cang Qiong Mountain? Not bad.” “Your distinguished self’s memory is also quite good.” Tianlang-Jun smiled and smiled, then gave a sigh. “If you were also trapped in a pitch-back darkness for over ten years, unable to glimpse the sky or sun, with nothing to pass the days but for reminiscing over past affairs, your memory would be quite good as well.”

tianlang-jun remembered him, and while yes, it's clear he has a pretty good memory and might also be using it as a way to throw his potential enemy off-balance, it is still a very interesting way to go about it. and the rejoinder yue qingyuan sends back at him, perfectly polite - even respectful! - totally unflappable—tell me you do not see the potential there!!

but never fear, if you are not yet convinced, i have more:

Tianlang-Jun continued to sit upon his stone, completely at ease. “I remember that you also waited until the last moment to draw your sword that day,” he said to Yue Qingyuan. “Doing the same now?” Yue Qingyuan didn’t answer.

tianlang-jun remembered a lot about yue qingyuan, even small details like his sword, and the actions he took (or didn't) upon the day of tianlang-jun's betrayal. to me, this reads as though, even then, he took note of yue qingyuan's power as something to look out for. he is also, despite all of the other people around, primarily engaging in conversation with yue qingyuan.

Tianlang-Jun pulled his hand back and smiled. “Honestly, in the beginning I had no malice, nor did I find fun in the idea of the world burning. I only occasionally crossed the border, coming here to sing songs or read books—it was quite nice. However, since I’ve already been in residence beneath Bai Lu Mountain for so many years, if I don’t follow through on something along the lines of your thoughts, I’d truly find my circumstances a bit too unjustified.” Yue Qingyuan flicked his finger. Xuan Su sprang three inches from its sheath, its spiritual energy seething. The bones of Tianlang-Jun’s body cracked and popped, almost like his joints had been dislocated. He made a sound of surprise. “As expected of a sect leader. Not bad. Your master was quite mediocre but had quite the eye for disciples and successors.”

okay first of all, the tension here is remarkable, and second of all, the compliment at the end—tianlang-jun, for the power level we know he possesses, is being practically effusive with his praise of yue qingyuan's strength something we know to be greatly prized by demons.

this segment follows the previous directly, but i had to give it it's own spotlight, for reasons that i hope will be readily apparent:

Then Tianlang-Jun reached out and grabbed Xuan Su’s blade directly, as if he couldn’t feel a thing. “But why not draw it all the way?” he said with a smile. “You can’t do anything to me with only this much.” Yue Qingyuan’s gaze hardened, and Xuan Su jumped another half-inch from its sheath.

tianlang-jun: oho, you'll need more than that much to handle me, big guy

(jokes aside, considering the rampant spiritual energy of xuan su, described as so powerful as to be oppressive in volume 2, and the susceptibility of demons to spiritual energy, tianlang-jun is truly doing the absolute Most™ right now.)

... moving decidedly away from jokes now, this is one of the most pivotal lines for them, in my opinion. it comes at the conclusion of wu chen's reveal of the betrayal-that-wasn't, and how su xiyan chose death over bringing harm to tianlang-jun, only for it to find him regardless:

“It wasn’t that she didn’t care about you, but that she was without alternative. Yet the world is pitiless, and so you passed each other by…” Tianlang-Jun’s lips seemed to tremble slightly. A long moment passed. Then he said, “Is that so?” Right after those three words, he asked again, “Truly?” “This one swears upon his life that his words contain not a single falsehood,” said Master Wu Chen. Tianlang-Jun turned his head to look at Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan. As if seeking confirmation, he asked, “Truly?” He didn’t even care whether someone was in the know; he was just asking anyone he could. Unable to say anything, Yue Qingyuan silently lowered his head. It was unclear what he thought.

it is clear that the tragedy of su xiyan and tianlang-jun was one that yue qingyuan felt keenly, not only for his response here, clearly processing some significant emotion, but also for the way that he used the same words to describe his relationship with shen jiu just a short time later:

“I really…didn’t mean to not return,” said Yue Qingyuan. “Only, it really is true that the world is pitiless, and so the two of us passed each other by…”

pardon me while a cry a new freshwater body into existence.

there is truly so much more that can be said about what makes these two a great fit for each other, especially in a canon-adjacent/post-canon scenario, but i'll save that for another day. for now, i will let these excerpts speak for themselves.

#svsss #meta #my meta #i love them your honor #like truly they are SO complementary AUGH #tianyue #tianlang jun #yue qingyuan #tlj #yqy

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astroismypassion · 2 years ago

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Astrology observations 🌸🌸🌸

Credit goes to my Tumblr blog @astroismypassion

🌸If you have Virgo Venus, you could feel like you can have the most rewarding, stable partnerships with people who have a 6th house Synastry with you. If you are Taurus Venus, you could resonate more with 2nd house Synastry. If you have Cancer Venus, you connect best with people you have 4th house Synastry with.

🌸I noticed with Mars in the 12th house Synastry is that the Mars person (who most often has secret feelings for the house person) is more "spiritual" about the connection. They have this "if it's meant to be, it will be" passive approach towards starting the connection.

🌸Venus sextile/trine Neptune in a Synastry chart means that Venus person is easily inspired by the Neptune person, hence being more creative. Meanwhile, Neptune person could have material, financial benefits from Venus person, such as getting more lavish, expensive gifts, free dinner, more clothing etc.

🌸In Synastry, when one person's Saturn is negatively aspecting the other person's North Node, they North Node person can feel like this person is slowing down their life purpose and career. North Node person feels like Saturn person wants them to prioritize them and relationship they have with them (starting a family for example, being more present in the connection) rather than their career goals and life purpose.

🌸If both people end up dating their Saturn sign, they view each other as trophies or like a most prized possession. If you have Pisces Saturn, you could see your partner with Pisces Sun as a trophy.

🌸I'm noticing a pattern that I'm starting to develop in a little theory. Often men who have for example Gemini Sun mum, often go for women who have Gemini Moon in their chart. Or if their mum is Taurus Sun, they pick a woman who has Taurus Moon.

🌸Often times people who have Scorpio over the 4th house tend to overshare and claim they are "an open book", when in reality you don't really know much about them personally or what is happening with them or their life.

🌸People who have Mars in the 9th house LOVE to travel (especially long-distance), but I noticed with them, they at some point have this weird, unique, "rebel" phase when they just rebel against travel and kind of don't want to leave their home or hometown that they are used to.

🌸Libra Moon native can expect a baby with a person that is already married.

🌸You can start feeling like they brought you closer to who you truly are at your core level around the sign over your 8th house. Like you become more you through the connection with this person, not necessarily "lose" yourself in the connection.

🌸 Partners of women who have Virgo Mars always admire their woman’s modesty and how humble they are.

🌸People with Scorpio or Aries over the 4th house might really like the gym, but also kinda dislike themselves for how much take actually enjoy it.

🌸 For fitness motivation always look at the people who share their Sun sign with your Mars sign. For example: if you have Scorpio Mars, you might be really interested in a workout routine of a Scorpio Sun, such as Kendall Jenner. If you have Cancer Mars, you might want Cancer Sun Gisele Bündchen to leak her workout routine. The same goes for if you want to have a personal trainer, it’s best if this person has Sun sign of your Mars sign, because they will be able to motivate you better than others.

🌸 Gemini Juno could have a partner that diets or often does cleanses.

🌸 People who have Neptune Ascendant aspect might view the gym as a sanctuary or like personal therapy.

🌸 Young musicians who have Capricorn Venus make songs that even the elderly like to listen.

🌸 In Synastry Venus opposite Mars can mean that Venus person can act differently at home with their Mars partner versus when they are in the public with them. While Mars person is always their authentic self at all times.

🌸 People who have Cancer or Capricorn over the 8th house could attract a partner that acts like their mother (in case of Cancer over the 8th house) or their father (in the case of Capricorn over the 8th house).

🌸 Pisces Mercury and Neptune aspect Mercury can sometimes be mentally quite lazy or passive. They would rather challenge themselves to do a task, chore physically than mentally. For example, they would rather learn how to skate than learn biology.

🌸Capricorn, Pisces, Aries and Libra Moons are prone to be more emotionally insecure, especially when in a partnership. That's why they need validation on a daily basis or often.

Credit goes to my Tumblr blog @astroismypassion

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toms-cherry-trees · 2 years ago

Text

Thrilling Chase || Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: All the girls want him. One does not. And he wants her

Word Count: 1551

Warnings: Not really. Aemond being a bit more of book Aemond than show Aemond and being overall annoyed with life

Author’s note: I dreamt this plot Sunday night and spend the entire day racking my brains to turn it into a fic. Please let me know about any errors, I am still polishing my English. Also this Aemond I am not sure I got the characterization right but I liked how it turned out. And remember I interact from @finite--incantatem

The ball is being hosted with the purpose of celebrating Aegon’s nameday. What better way to celebrate the anniversary of his birth than being surrounded by fine drinks and lovely ladies, a field full of flower buds for him to pick and spoil? Aemond can barely stand the frivolous pomp and pageantry, the ass kissing lords showering his brother and father in banal pleasantries and praises, as if any one of them paid any heed to such flummery; one too inebriated to care and the other unable to hear anything above his own wheezing.

Aemond has tried to excuse himself three times before the feast has even been served; as dutiful as he could be, even he has a limit, and his limit has been long surpassed by this insufferable event. But his weak spot has overcome his distaste, in the form of his gentle mother, who implores him to play the part for the evening. His sweet mother, who does everything in her power for the family to present a united front, all while sweeping the shambles behind the drapes. Only for her happiness is he willing to endure this foolery.

He hoped that chatting up some minor lordlings and not yawning before them would be enough to fulfil his obligations; but he has not accounted for the unwanted feminine attention. Aemond thought his physical imperfections and his downright hostile demeanour would be enough to ward off the ladies, but he could not deny the facts; as the eldest bachelor in the family, he remains a coveted prize to whom lords would offer their daughters in silver trays. He can vividly imagine them, ambitious men whispering in the ears of their girls and urging them to employ any means necessary to get in Aemond’s good graces. Only then could he explain the parade of fair maidens, all of them more adorned than carnival horses, showering him with their candid smiles and their coy giggles, batting their eyelashes and hinting most cunningly how much they would love to dance. They all seem to ask the same pre thought and bland questions; if one more lady asks to ever see Vhagar, Aemond would go and bring her down to the hall for them to see up close and personal.

Just when he hopes he has done enough to please his mother and the crowds, the first dances begin. One look from the Queen deters his efforts to flee the scene; without word, he has been reminded that his duty has yet to conclude. But Aemond would much rather eat Aegon’s toes than be found dancing with a lady. All his dexterity and gracefulness in the sparring yard do not translate to his waltzing skills; while he could be fast and silent and slippery in the face of the enemy, at the tune of the strings he possesses the elegance of a rotting tomato left in the sun.

The Prince knows the second he sets foot into the dance floor, he will be swarmed with adoring girls. But he cares not for them, since he has already set his eye on one. Just like the others she is burdened by golds and silks and stones, but unlike them, she carries her adornments with such grace and dignity that the opulence of her garments only brings forth her natural beauty.

There is something in her, something unidentifiable and unexplainable, that makes her so…so alluring. It may be the way her lips hold a perennially ineffable smile, so subtle one cannot truly tell it is there, but the mere possibility of its existence is enough to entice the mind.

It could also be her hands. Aemond cannot stop staring at them, from the way her fingers curl around the stem of the goblet, to the particular way they bend when she holds onto the pendant hanging from a fine gold chain around her neck, a subtle move that occurs whenever a young man engages her in conversation. Her left hand holds delicately onto a small fan, although its purpose seems to add to her aura of mysticism rather than keep her cool; her face disappears behind it whenever her smile becomes too wide, only her piercing eyes remaining visible, keeping her expressions unreadable, a most intriguing secret.

Only the greatest artists of the country, working for years on the best of marbles, could even dare to come close to resembling her splendour. The figure of the Maiden brought to life, and that would be a most dashing compliment - for the Goddess.

If he is to dance, he must dance with her.

He cuts through the crowd, moving past wide-eyed ladies and squeezing around dancing couples with one objective in mind. She is right there, standing near the pillar bearing the image of King Jaehaerys. She is alone, and she saw him coming. The proximity of the prey has Aemond on edge, muscles tense and ready to pounce. A man cuts his way, and he pushes him aside vigorously, but it is too late. Her figure has disappeared amongst the crowd like a vision.

Aemond spots her again a few minutes later, near the massive gates of the hall. Once more he approaches her, but he is distracted by his mother asking something, and once more loses his chance. The process repeats several times, with her always standing just at his fingertips but never close enough to grasp, her presence so real yet also so unsubstantial he begins to think he is trapped in a vivid dream.

The Prince is well damn tempted to just order everyone but her out of the chamber, but there is something in the chase, the subtle yet invigorating excitement of the pursuit, the way his pupil is blown wide and his jaw set in concentration. A sensation he has only ever experienced while wielding his sword in the training yards or soaring the skies with his dragon. An unexplainable elation, all due to this little dove who keeps flying away.

Aemond groans in frustration as she evades him once more. How can she be so fast and nimble while wearing a heavy gown? Are the Seven playing a wicked game on him, fate holding the prize above his head just out of reach? He does not care now for dancing nor pleasing his mother. This is a matter of pride; to go through all these obstacles to drop out mid-hunt would be shameful and disappointing.

She is now across the room, now more easily visible due to the dwindling crowds. She is looking straight at him, half her face obscured by her fan. But she pulls it down softly, painfully slow, and Aemond’s heart beats frantically in his chest, like he is witnessing the unveiling of the world’s greatest mystery. The fan rests lightly on her chin, and she rewards the prince with a cunning smirk.

She is doing it on purpose.

It all makes sense now. How could he be so stupid not to realise she has been playing the game alongside him? Evading him and taunting him, letting him think he had her and then slipping away like sand. This newfound knowledge spurs his desires. He needs to have her close, needs to know who she is and why is she doing this to him. His decorum and self-control slips away as a new feeling blooms within him. A warmth blooming in the depths of his body and spreading through his body. The more he cannot have her, the more he wants her. She may be akin to the image of the Maiden, but Aemond is sure the deity has never evoked the thoughts now crossing his mind, nor has any other woman ever before.

Determined to sate his curiosity, and perhaps some other lowly needs, he makes a straight line for her. She does not move nor backs out, and he can already feel the silk of her dress under his fingertips and the scent of her perfume in his nose. He doesn’t understand where the primal urge to crash his lips against hers stem from, but he is ready to give in to that urge as well.

His marching is cut abruptly by the colliding of his body against a long table. He had been so focused and lost, so unlike himself, that he paid no attention to anything or anyone around him, his vision like a tunnel focused upon her. The table is so long he would have to wander half the hall to circumvent it, and he still has enough hold of his wits to know it would be improper to vault over it or slide under the tablecloth. They are so close, yet the brief distance is unbreachable for the time being.

His eye meet hers, the mischief dancing in her pupils. The corners of those soft lips tug just a bit more, sly and bewitching. She backs away slowly, the fan coming up once more to shield her face. She turns around and disappears behind a column amidst the rustle of stiffened skirts and the tinkling of her bracelets

Defeat overcomes the Prince, but a smirk spreads across his own lips. He has not given up the chase; he is just giving the dove a head start before the hunt resumes.

#marsie writes #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond one eye #aemond kinslayer #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen one shot #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond stannies

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ofallthingsnasty · 21 days ago

Note

What one piece characters do you think would be into petplay? Either way, being the pet, or forcing someone to be theirs?

When you sent this, I immediately started typing up a storm about Doffy and Arlong - but to be real, I've written so much about pet play and those two that it feels kind of stale to simply repeat myself... So let me link my thirst masterlist in reference to them and talk about others for once, haha 😅

characters: mihawk, boa, sanji, zoro, kid tw: pet play, mostly consensual but also one entry for noncon petplay, minors dni word count: 1.3k

So let’s start with the ones who enjoy it consensually!

One that comes to mind is Mihawk. Classy. Refined. Loyal. Someone who is all about a 24/7 dynamic - to him, it’s not a kink, it’s a lifestyle. He’s a busy man who enjoys his time off, who loves nothing more than you waiting bare and on your knees whenever he returns from a longer trip, who wants to lead gently and have someone follow eagerly. He doesn’t want to whittle down your resolve, he wants to teach you simply because you desire to; and he wants to be as good to you as you are to him. He is all about rules and rewards and he is one thing that many aren’t: fair. He doesn’t provoke you, doesn’t tease you until you lash out, doesn’t punish due to arbitrary, fictional rules, doesn’t withhold rewards - he is very by-the-book and correct, but also kind. Of course, Mihawk expects a certain level of maturity and tranquility from his partner, but he can forgive transgressions when needed. Whenever you misbehave, lash out, don’t act like you’re supposed to - there is a reason for that, a reason he’ll identify and address. Doesn’t mean you won’t get punished for it - but he is more than understanding. Everyone deserves a bad day, maybe two, and everyone should be heard. All in all, a very kind owner, one that makes play almost cozy. If you want to feel like you’re thoroughly loved, utterly adored and valued - he is the man for you. If you’re obedient.

Boa Hancock is also someone to consider. She isn’t as refined as Mihawk - given that she slips into treating you like a pet without really being aware of the dynamic Frankly, she couldn’t even call herself your owner if she wanted to - no matter the context, she despises that word and any iterations of it. Not with her past, her trauma, her deepest, darkest fears of her and her people falling prey to others ever again. She doesn't own you (never will) - but that doesn’t mean that she won’t treat you like a prized possession an awful lot. It’s just that she’s entirely and unpredictably unconventional about it. There are no rules. There are no punishments. There is only Boa and her never-ending adoration. And yet - you will feel just like a little dog, a cat, maybe even a colorful bird she keeps hemming and hawing over. You’re her partner, best friend, plush toy all in one; you soothe, you calm and you delight her. You are truly unique to her - and she’d be a fool to let you slip through her fingers. Under her care, you’ll be nothing but horribly spoiled. Anything you could ever ask for, anything you might just even think of wanting - you’ll have it. And then some. Really, you don’t even need to throw temper tantrums, you’ll just have to pout a little and you’ll have whatever you desire in no time. In turn, she wants you to love her, fully and wholly - and to hang off her arm, be by her side, share her bed pretty much all day long. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder - not for Boa, though. Constant company, more like. Really, if you’re okay with being glued to her side and treated like someone’s purse dog (including gaudy costumes, mind you!) then Boa is the way to go. There are definitely worse picks out there.

Now, on to the ones who enjoy being the pet. Sanji and Zoro are up there, both for different reasons. Sanji - well, he’s Sanji. He’ll do anything, try anything, indulge your every whim simply because it makes you happy. And if you want a little puppy by your feet, want to spoil him rotten, want him to watch you with lovestruck eyes with his chin on your knee? Who exactly is he to say no? There are certainly worse ways to love someone, especially if the trade-off for utter devotion and obedience is ownership. He is yours. Belongs to you only. And vice versa. You only have to ask and you’ll have the most obedient little pet at your beck and call. Want to collar him? He’ll wear it with pride. Want him to sleep in a cage? Oh, he’ll cherish the moments he gets to spend in your bed even more. Want him to ask permission for every little thing he does? Why, nothing that would make him happier than that. I think it would be a way to heal for him, as well. A set of rules to go by, someone who manages the ins and outs of his daily life, unconditional, ever-encompassing love from someone who thinks he’s the apple of their eye? Let him get comfortable in this lifestyle and you’ll see him bloom. He craves love and even more so - security. Give him that and he'll be the best puppy you’ve ever had and hopefully will ever have. Just don’t be cruel or erratic, unjust punishments and mood swings taken out on him are not the way to go. Be firm, be strict - but be fair. Zoro, on the other hand, is someone who doesn’t exactly agree to the dynamic - but he’ll very much act like a dog for you. In all but name, he is your guard dog and you are his handler, the one who points their finger and tells him to attack- People will comment on it all the time, will have him red-faced and grumbly behind you. But he won’t even try to be less obvious about his need to protect you, won’t stop being your shadow for just a moment. It’s just in his nature, he figures. The urge to protect you, to see you well, to know you save and sound - it nags at him, claws at him, doesn’t let him leave until he knows you are where you are supposed to be: by his side. Happy. Warm. And when you praise him? Scratch his ear just so while he’s napping on your lap? That man is in heaven, not a place he’d rather be. You are simply one of the very few things in life he values. (If you’re feeling extra cheeky, call him a good boy and see where it will get you. Certainly on your back and with him balls-deep inside of you, sputtering about how he’ll show animalistic, how you can have a dog if you want one so bad.)

Now, who likes to force pet play on you? Like I said, the uncrowned kings of that are Doflamingo and Arlong, and you’ll find plenty about that in my respective character tags here and here. But you know who’s another one to make you crawl on the floor, to have you eat slop out of a bowl instead of a proper meal on the table? Kid. Kid will. Not because it’s particularly hot to him - but because it just… happens? Sure, he’ll call you all sorts of animal names, all tailored to your appearance and demeanor - be it cow, bitch, pig, fucking mutt - but it’s not like he looks at you and decides that what you need is a collar. With time, you simply turn into his pet (or worse, his crew’s), with every day you lose a little bit of humanity until you might as well be the bed in his quarters, just another piece of inventory. And the more you do, the more he finds himself enjoying it. It’s like he’s playing it out in reverse: first, you only get to be naked and on all fours to make his little quest for free use easier, then he notices how lovely your ass would look with a tail plug dangling from it. There is neither much care nor thought poured into the whole endeavor, either - one day you’ll simply get a massive collar and a new nickname. If you’re lucky, he won’t hook your nose and call you a little sow. But don’t count on that.

#tw.pet play #one piece x reader #mihawk x reader #boa hancock x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #eustass kid x reader #/mihawk #/boa #/sanji #/zoro #/kid #just a little brain dump... dunno if that scratches your itch #/one piece

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just-a-madrigal · 1 year ago

Text

"Whoa, a new girl at school. Do you realize what destiny has brought you today? Yours truly, Hector Sanchez, but you can just call me The Hulk."

Secrets can Kill

Nancy Drew Embroideries

I don’t know if this is particularly recognizable anymore, considering it would be absolutely wild for this screen to appear when playing a digital download of the game, but I played the OG version of this game on my dad’s ancient computer that had multiple discs and required you to switch them out when trying to get into the boiler room. That is my core memory of this game, so I had to memorialize it! This was one of the first I played, and I remember the puzzles being terribly difficult and I kept thinking I had missed clues in the boiler room so I went in an unnecessary number of times. I personally enjoyed the remastered version as well, I felt like it did a good job of updating but also honoring the legacy of the game that started it all.

Also featured are a few of my Nancy Drew books, original editions from 1930! These have been passed down from my grandma to my mom to me, and my collection is one of my most prized possessions 💙

#secrets can kill #SCK #cluecrewplaythru #Nancy Drew games #Nancy Drew embroidery #Nancy Drew #Nancy Drew books #fiber arts #embroidery #needlepoint

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sgiandubh · 11 months ago

Note

What happened with Barbour ?

Dear Barbour Anon,

My favorite kind of Anon, even if I know the question has recently been asked again and not in this corner. Never mind, I think it's time to talk about it, too.

I bought my first Barbour (entry-level, so olive) Bedale wax jacket 25 years ago, from their (long gone, now) shop on Boulevard Raspail, in Paris. It was a mandatory clothing item to own if you wanted to properly mingle with the law school crowd (it still is) and it ended up being one of my most prized possessions, possibly a part of me. I still have it somewhere, back home. Two more followed, along with a fetishist array of shirts, scarves, beanies and even one of those sturdy crossbody bags you can fit half a house in. So you can imagine my absolute thrill when I found out, very very late, that S had had a rather substantial collaboration with them, from 2016 and until 2019.

I am very bad with timelines, as you probably know and possibly even cackle about, but still: S was appointed as the company's first ever Global Brand Ambassador on July 16, 2016. His mission statement was very precisely defined by the brand and for some reason we'll analyze a bit later, this is important:

(Source, heh: https://www.astonbourne.co.uk/is-barbour-a-luxury-brand-unraveling-the-mystique-of-classic-outerwear/).

A shirt and vest signature collection followed in 2017 and 2018, with the contract being renewed. Advertisement was absolutely gorgeous and designed to shape a very positive image, both for S and the brand. Last autumn's SS Gin promo retained some of that irresistible aesthetic DNA and I discussed it at length.

See for yourself, Anon. The fandom endlessly discussed the first long clip (with the chocolate labrador), but I have no idea if these two have been seen, let alone debated. If they did, let that be my nostalgic mistake.

Spring/Summer 2018:

youtube

Fall 2018:

youtube

And then disaster stroke, with S's trip to Ha-wa-wee 1.0, in the spring of 2019. A short reel, featuring a rather agglomerated boat trip, was posted on socials. Unfortunately for S, it also featured an allegedly horrifying scene involving the 'traditional' bludgeoning to death of a tuna fish. Emotions ensued and as it often happens here, they spun out of control. Many people, including some of the most vocal S haters, tagged Barbour in their diatribes, filled with environmentalist indignation. They suggested this guy (who did not participate to the savagery and I would be even unsure he realized what was going on) was, by no reasonable means, a proper 'embodiment of the brand's identity, values and aspirations' (remember that mission statement?).

Tone deaf as ever in the midst of a serious PR crisis, S put friendship above anything else, and publicly praised the boat's owner, calling him 'the heart and soul of the island', if I remember well. I still would like to think he has no idea what the hell exactly happened. And then, when somebody finally (August 2019) asked Barbour on Insta about their collaboration with S, they got this politely dry, but clear answer:

"We don't have any plans for a collaboration with SH in the near future" means, in my book and to my understanding, "we are never going to work with this guy again". Truly, some people in here who dare to give morality lessons to others, should be proud of themselves: they did it knowingly and in a very organized way, using multiple sock accounts, to give the impression of a collective retching reflex. To cut the story short, the dread of any ad campaign on this planet.

The effort was genuine. The result of that collaboration was very good. Take, for example, this somewhat heartbreaking customer review by an American guy who has no idea who SRH is and who bought one of those jackets from a Barbour factory warehouse, in 2021, with a hefty rebate (70% off). Clearly something Barbour wanted to get rid of at all costs - what a pity and really what a SHAME on all those hypocrites who will never admit to a public assassination by the book:

youtube

This time, I am absolutely not sorry for the length, Anon. This is something that still makes me boil. Unfairness and cheap nastiness simply disgust me.

(Thank you, sweetheart, for the screenshot, always. You know who you are 😘😘😘).

#anon #fandom #shitshow

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stayevildarling · 6 months ago

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Hi I know you have been very busy and lacking motivation so zero pressure at all but I wanted to request a fluffy/hurt/comfort with Delia, Mina, Billie x Reader with a few prompts. You can use all of them or none of them totally up to you!Hopefully it sparks some inspo, if not no worries at all. Sending lots of love to you and all the good energy! Put yourself first always please!!

Prompts:

“Why are you crying?”

“You’re bleeding”

“I want you to kiss me right now”

“Will you sing for me?”

“Your hands are soft”

“Can I braid your hair?”

Billie Dean Howard x Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable x Reader- Crimson Shadows

A/N: I just want to thank you so so much for this dear anon <3 I absolutely love these prompts and it sparked my inspiration for sure

word count: 4k

tw: mention of violence, mention of blood, mention of witch hunters, mention of knifes, mention of smoking, mention of anxiety, mention of nightmares, angst, fluff/comfort

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay, @whitelotus00, @ninaahs, @vintagepaulson, @isle-of-earle, @paulsonsratched, @stepintomyworld, @grilledcheeseandguavajelly, @lucyintheskywithxanax, @fanfics4world, @mymiraclewitch, @hazard-to-myself, @awritersometime, @ohrwurm26, @wastdstime, @p1pecleanerwitheyes

The sun dipped over the horizon, casting soft shades of dark orange and red tones over the grounds of Miss Robichaux's Academy. It had been an ordinary day today, both Cordelia and you working at the academy and your other two lovers at their respective jobs, Mina being her badass self in HR and Billie chasing spirits away for her show. The air is filled with the soft smell of the countless candles lit in the room and the tea you had made for both you and the supreme a little while ago. Cordelia sits across from you in her office, typing away on her computer, watching you lost in a book as you offered to keep her company and help out in any way you could.

Just as the tranquility settles, the phone on Cordelia's desks rings, slicing through the comfortable silence. You watch as she picks up the phone, assuming it's another council business she would have to take care of. However her expression quickly darkens as she listens to the voice on the other end. She stands abruptly, the chair scraping against the wooden floor.

,,Witch hunters have attacked Hawthorne Academy'' she explains, her features filled with concern and fear, while her voice remains steady but laced with urgency. ,,I have to go'' she explains before getting ready to teleport.

You stand up, your heart pounding in your chest. ,,You are not going alone'' you argue. And you knew about this subject and how scared it truly made her, despite your girlfriend not letting it on. You had been at the academy and beside them for years now, long after witch hunters attacked the coven but you had heard the stories, the occasional nightmares that still haunted the supreme and you knew how much she hated it, watching her tense whenever one of the younger witches would bring it up and ask about the subject out of curiosity. There was no way you would let her go alone and go through that pain and fear again.

,,There is no time to argue darling'' Cordelia insists, grabbing her coat. ,,I need to protect them''.

,,And I'm not letting you do that by yourself'' you retort, your determination matching the supreme's.

The blonde hesitates, her eyes searching yours. She knows it's dangerous but at the same time you are her most promising witch. She fights an internal battle of using that strength as she knows she could need all the help she could get. On the other hand you are one of her most prized possessions and she never wanted anything happening to you, knowing the dangers of this. Finally she nods though, grabbing your hand and teleporting you two over there as quickly as possible.

As you find yourself in the academy, the signs of chaos instantly greet you. Smoke fills the sky an acrid smell of burning wood and magic filled the air, causing you to cough a few times. The academy grounds are a battle field and it takes you a minute to get used to your surroundings as you always admired the beauty of this academy whenever joining Cordelia on one of her meetings here. Witches and witch hunters clash, the sound of gunshots and spells lighting up the sky like fireworks.

Cordelia's face is filled with determination as she charges right in the middle of the storm, quickly finding most of the witch hunters and sending them flying across the nearest wall. You are quick to follow behind, using your healing magic to heal some wounded witches currently on the ground. When they open their eyes, you see both the fear and the gratitude in them and you make sure to tell them they are safe and that everything was going to be alright.

The supreme moves with a lethal grace, her spells striking down the attackers with precision. You follow her every step, your own magic surging in response to the threat. Together, you manage to fight through the chaos and pushing back the witch hunters.

,,Oh thank you so much Cordelia'' the headmistress thanks the supreme as the chaos has been fought for now. Cordelia is quick to help the woman to her feet, the two of them walking a little to talk this through. ,,Y/N darling, grab some witches and place protection spells for me please'' she asks and you nod quickly, before some of them follow you.

While you work your magic alongside the others, making sure this place was protected for the future, some of the teachers at the academy are quick to alert the council, knowing they needed to act quick to identify the attackers still on the ground unconscious and prevent further attacks. You are surprised how quick everyone manages to react, almost as if they had done it countless times, their magic working wonders and quickly to get the place back to looking beautiful, spells being cast without a care in the world as if their whole world didn't just crumble, as if you and Cordelia hadn't just saved them from doom and death.

As you make your way back to Cordelia, wanting to make sure this didn't trigger her past too much, the tide suddenly takes a turn. One of the hunters on the ground, manages to shake off the unconsciousness, reaching slowly for a large blade, a wicked smile on his face. ,,Cordelia watch out'' you scream, watching it happen out of the corner of your eyes but knowing you can't react this quickly. As the supreme turns around, the blade lunges forward at Cordelia. She reacts swiftly, but not swiftly enough, having been caught off guard, assuming that danger was averted. The blade catches her in the side and she crumples to the ground, clutching her wound.

,,No'' you scream, rushing to her side, the other witches and headmistress quickly making sure to take him out and drop him back on the floor.

You drop to your knees, holding onto Cordelia as the blood seeps through your fingers. ,,Delia...Delia you're bleeding'' you mumble pathetically and if you could think clearly right now, you know how stupid you sound. She had just been hit with a knife, of course she would be bleeding.

,,I want you to kiss me right now'' she whispers through pain and your expression turns from shock to utter sadness and panic as her words register and why she is saying them.

,,Stay with me.. it's okay.. it's going-'' you struggle to stay calm as tears pour from your eyes, the fear of losing Cordelia almost knocking you to the ground yourself. Her brown beautiful eyes flutter open, pain etched across her face. ,,I'm okay darling'' she whispers, her voice weak. ,,Just need to.. stop the bleeding''.

In a quick motion you tear a strip of fabric from your shirt, pressing it against the wound to stop the flow of blood. You knew you could easily heal her but the distractions of this place seem to drive you crazy, in the midst of chaos, in the midst of the vicious people doing this to her. And you also knew the only place you could do this flawlessly was the greenhouse. ,,Hold on.. I'll take you home and fix this'' you announce, the other headmistress quickly nodding your way before taking Delia's hand and teleporting you both out of there and into your sanctuary.

As soon as you find yourself in the calm and quiet greenhouse, you move all the books and objects from class this morning off the table before putting Cordelia down. Almost on autopilot, you walk to the shelf, quickly grabbing all the ingredients and potions you need, before shakily reaching for your phone and calling the group chat with your girlfriends.

,,Babydoll, little one?'' you hear both voices from Billie and Wilhemina on the other end. And they both knew this must be important as you wouldn't call them unannounced at work. ,,I need you to come home- witch hunters at other academy- Delia hurt- bleeding'' you hyperventilate before dropping the phone and tending to her wounds.

,,You're going to be okay Delia'' you say, more to reassure yourself than the supreme. And maybe your panicking was due to Cordelia's magic being able to heal herself, as this shouldn't have knocked her out the way it did.

It takes a few minutes until you get your magic fully under control, with some spells quickly stopping the bleeding and with your healing magic, quickly making the wound disappear altogether. Despite it technically being unnecessary, you apply some potions on the wound, wanting to make sure she truly couldn't feel any pain.

When the supreme opens her eyes again, you see her worry, fear and pain replaced with her usual soft eyes, her eyes sparkling with love for you. She quickly furrows her eyebrows as she takes a look at you, inspecting your features ,,Why are you crying honey?'' she asks almost dumbfounded, as she sits up, wiping your tears but you turn away, ushering her to lay back down as the shock still ripples through your body. ,,Just rest Delia'' you tell her before leaning against one of the tables, trying to catch your breath as your life just flashed before your eyes, the thought of losing Cordelia completely rippling through you now.

Before the blonde can protest, the sound of heels and a cane urgently tapping towards the greenhouse startle you both and as soon as Billie walks inside she gasps, seeing you covered in blood and the table and books and spells spread out everywhere, all over the floor and table. ,,Oh my god, what happened?'' Billie squeals. Wilhemina remains calm, observing and quickly realising that Cordelia is fine, by the lack of pain in her features, the lack of blood on her body and clothes and assuming by the scene in front of her that you fixed it, saved her.

As Billie rushes towards the supreme, taking her cheeks into her manicured hands, Wilhemina walks towards you, her expression filled with concern and seriousness as she sees how pale you are. ,,Little one, are you okay?'' she asks, her brown eyes observing you carefully. The redhead quickly notices how out of it you truly are, your breathing out of control, your chest rising and falling quickly and how hard your fingers are holding onto the nearest table. ,,Look at me Y/N'' she instructs and when you finally do, her soft brown eyes ground you. She is quick to take your hands into hers, relaxing them and rubbing soothing circles on them.

,,It's fine darling I promise'' Cordelia reassures as Billie continues fussing over the supreme. ,,What happened?'' the medium asks, the shock still very evident in her voice. ,,Witch hunters at Hawthorne'' she mumbles, more concerned about the aftermath and you than herself right now. She is quick to rise to her feet, inspecting herself one more time and in a swift motion getting rid of all the bloody evidence on the table, her clothing and the floor.

,,Sweetie, are you alright?'' she asks gently, having seen that same expression before and only able to imagine how you must be feeling. ,,I'm fine Dee'' you reassure, quick to focus on your breathing as the last thing you want is to make them worry about you right now. Despite her being able to tell the smile is forced, she takes a step back, before her guilty eyes travel between you three. ,,I need to go back'' she announces before you turn even more pale. ,,What?'' Billie asks, her voice laced with disapproval.

,,I need to make sure they are okay, talk to the council'' the supreme begins, knowing the real work was only going to begin now. ,,Let me come with you'' you try, already knowing teleporting her away would earn you her disapproval afterwards. ,,No sweetie you need to rest'' she says softly, taking a step forward and brushing some strand of hair from your tired features.

,,So do you Cordelia'' Wilhemina urges, equally disapproving of the supreme's choice. ,,I won't be long I promise'' she reassures but Billie is quick to step forward. ,,What if there is still danger and you are running right back into it'' the medium argues, her eyes pleading with the supremes. ,,I promise you it's all taken care of'' she assures and you nod towards Billie, knowing that they wouldn't need to worry about any of those witch hunters waking any time soon after this.

,,I promise I'll be back soon'' she reassures again before glancing between you three again and disappearing as she teleports back through the dark sky and towards Hawthorne.

As soon as she leaves a shaky exhale leaves your lips, your body now shaking, the adrenaline from the earlier events having drained your body. Of course your girlfriends instantly notice, two sets of brown concerned eyes meeting yours. ,,Sweetie, are you alright?'' Billie asks softly, putting her hand on your shoulder to offer you some support. ,,I-'' you begin but quickly stop yourself as the tears already rise and the lump in your throat makes it impossible to carry on.

Billie's eyes find Wilhemina's their concern visible and knowing how much this must have been for you as you hadn't been involved in actively protecting a coven, let alone save Cordelia's life before. ,,Let's sit you down'' the medium offers, the last thing she wants is you passing out on top of everything. Despite her offer sounding nice as your knees feel weak, you stare at your hands, the blood still all over them and wanting nothing more than to shower and rid yourself from the painful reminders from today. Wilhemina instantly picks it up, being able to tell what you need before speaking softly ,,Little one, why don't we get you upstairs and shower?'' she suggests softly and you simply nod before they guide you out of the greenhouse and back into your home, the academy.

Their hands are gentle as they both hold you and guide you upstairs, Billie quick to grab some warm towels for you and some pyjamas, choosing the most comfortable pair. ,,Would you like one of us to keep you company or help in any way?'' Wilhemina asks softly, causing your heart to ache a little at her considering words. After thinking about it for a moment you shake your head, shooting them a quick reassuring smile before taking the pile of clothing and towels off Billie‘s hands and disappearing into the bathroom. Their eyes linger on you as you leave and as their brown eyes meet, the concern remains as they know this would have shaken you more than you let on.

„Do you think she‘s going to be okay?“ Billie asks nervously as soon as she hears the water running, biting her lip in anxiety. Wilhemina steps closer, her features soft as she strokes Billie‘s cheek. „She‘ll be just fine darling, both of them“ the redhead reassures, knowing how scared Billie always was of something happening to either of you. „How about we start some dinner for them?“ the redhead suggests before Billie nods. „I suppose we couldn‘t have takeout today?“ she asks, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. „My treat“ she adds in order to make her offer more convincing.

„Billie darling, it‘s always your treat“ Wilhemina jokes, causing Billie‘s cheeks to glow red a little as they both knew Billie despised cooking and Mina often struggled due to her back. „I suppose after today we can“ she allows, causing Billie to jump up and down on her heels a little in excitement. „I‘ll go and take care of that then Ms Venable“ she smirks, swaying her hips a little more than necessary on her way downstairs, causing the redhead to roll her eyes at her girlfriend‘s antics.

It‘s about half an hour later when Wilhemina makes her way upstairs, having helped Billie with setting the table, having called Cordelia in the meantime to check on her. The supreme had reassured her that all danger is averted, mostly thanks to you, that she was fine and only dealing with some things with the council before returning home. When Wilhemina had finished the phone call, still not finding you downstairs, the concern settled on her features again as she ascends the stairs, wanting to make sure that her little one is feeling alright. In the meantime you had simply sat in the shower, your hands still bloody as the thought of Cordelia on the floor bleeding had traumatised you in a way that you couldn‘t even begin to process.

„Little one?“ the redhead tries knocking a few times unsuccessfully. After a few attempts, she tries opening the door ever so slightly, wanting to make sure you are alright as you had been in there for ages. When her eyes land on you sitting in the shower, still not having done anything as your hair and body are mostly dry, her heart breaks a little, seeing the tears running down your cheeks and your broken panicked expression. „Oh honey“ she sighs, quickly stepping inside before closing the door behind her. Despite her back, she sets her cane down, kneeling beside you, before her hand reaches out to take yours into hers. With gentle and soft hands, she puts yours under water, quickly ridding you of Cordelia's leftover blood and making sure the bathtub is clean before whispering ,,Little one, can you hear me?''.

It dawns on you then, how long you had been sitting there, how long you had been staring into nothingness. ,,Yes sorry'' you compose yourself, shaking your head a little, almost as to wake yourself. ,,Mina what are you doing? your back'' you realise her posture and her features quickly soften at how considerate you always are and truly filled with nothing but kindness. ,,I'm fine little one'' she reassures before she reaches for the shower head again, asking silently for permission and you nod. She takes her time gently washing your hair, using some of her special lavender shampoo that you love so much. You opt for cleaning your body yourself, feeling both a little awkward and bad, considering you didn't do anything to deserve it, despite your girlfriend disagreeing with you if she knew your thought process. ,,Your hands are so soft Mina'' you moan slightly, feeling the little scratches on your scalp, instantly making you feel calm and more relaxed.

She chuckles a little before helping you dry off and giving you some space to get changed. When you return to the bedroom, she sits at the edge of the bed and as your eyes travel towards her, you see a hairbrush and some hair ties next to her and she softly smiles at you before patting the space next to her. ,,Can I braid your hair little one?'' she speaks softly and you melt right there, your heart aching and longing for her kindness at the same time. You can't help the tears swelling in your eyes, not sad ones but simply happy ones, feeling so grateful for having your girlfriends and for how they take care of you. And for a moment you hesitate, thinking they had already done plenty for you today and feeling the urge to repay her. ,,Mina, you really don't have to'' you try but she is quick to balance on her cane and shake her head a little. ,,I want to little one, now come sit'' she instructs and you simply obey as she begins braiding your hair for you, making sure to brush with the most care in the world, almost as if you are the most fragile thing on the planet right now.

Shortly after, the two of you descend the stairs, finding Billie in the kitchen, swaying as she hums to herself, putting the food that she had ordered on your plates, pouring some drinks for you. You can't help but smile and Wilhemina can't help but smirk. ,,Oh hi babydoll'' she greets you and she can't help but frown seeing you so comfortable and adorable looking. ,,You alright?'' she asks as she steps towards you, taking your cheeks into her warm soft hands, causing you to melt right into her touch. ,,I am now, thanks to Mina'' you admit, glancing at the redhead who simply smiles warmly at both Billie and you. ,,Is Delia home yet?'' you ask anxiously and just before Billie can say anything, the front door almost magically opens, as if she heard, as if she knew if she wasn't back soon, the three of you would be worried sick.

,,Delia'' you practically whine out, so relieved to see her back safely. She smiles warmly at you three before greeting the three of you with a kiss to your cheek. ,,Come sit, you all must be starving'' Billie instructs before the four of you begin eating. The atmosphere is calm and quiet, almost the way it usually is if it wasn't for the three of you anxiously listening to Cordelia's every word, talking about what the council had found, the next steps and how this would be resolved. ,,So no one got hurt in the end?'' Billie asks carefully, almost in surprise as she knew how dangerous these attacks could truly be. ,,That's thanks to Y/N'' Cordelia softly acknowledges, her eyes meeting yours and she is able to still see the fear in them, already having taken a mental note to talk this through with you properly tonight or tomorrow to make sure you are alright and this didn't traumatise you too much. ,,We are so proud of you babydoll'' the medium speaks, her hand reaching for yours and rubbing comforting soothing circles on the delicate skin.

After dinner, the four of you fall into your normal routine, letting the evening settle in front of the TV as you lay in Cordelia's arms. She holds you steadily, noticing the occasional shaking and that you are a little lost in your thoughts. She speaks softly, reassuring you that she is right there, that she is fine thanks to you and that she is both so grateful and proud of you for today. And she manages to calm you down with each gentle touch, with each gentle reassuring whisper and each gentle kiss she presses on your cheeks. Hours later, the four of you get into bed, Cordelia being the first one asleep after the day she has had, Wilhemina joining a close second as her back was bound to give her some trouble after all the moving. Billie stays wake, wanting to make sure the three of you are alright before you fall asleep.

Only after about an hour, a nightmare ripples through you, the terror of losing Cordelia, of what could and would have happened if you didn't heal her, if you didn't insist on going with her. It causes you to jolt in Billie's arms, tears streaming down your cheeks as panic rises in your chest. ,,Hey babydoll, I'm here'' she coos, still having been awake and doing some work on her phone as her workday was interrupted earlier. ,,Billie'' you cry out, clutching to her shirt as you glance around the room frantically, seeing both Wilhemina and Cordelia asleep safe and sound and calming a little. ,,You're okay baby, just a nightmare'' she reassures as her nails gently scratch your head, hoping this could calm you. She keeps holding you for a while, noticing how you calm down with each passing minute, but sleep remaining a stranger. Her brown eyes glance at yours before you meet them, almost as if you begged for something silently.

,,What can I do my sweet girl?'' she tries and you look away, too shy to ask for what you need. ,,Tell me'' she encourages before you whisper ,,Will you sing for me?''. It takes a moment for the words to register properly and she can't help but chuckle until she realises you are being serious. And her heart melts then, assuming this is what both Wilhemina and Cordelia would do for you whenever she was away filming or already long asleep and your usual nightmares plagued you. ,,Of course babydoll'' she encourages and begins humming gently, the same way she had in the kitchen hours before and your eyes quickly fall shut, feeling her arms wrapped around you, her hands gently massaging your skin and her voice making you feel calm immediately and guiding you back to sleep, knowing the three of them are safe and sound right there with you.

#sarah paulson #cordelia goode #wilhemina venable #ahs #american horror story #asks #sarah paulson x reader #billie dean howard #cordelia goode x reader #anon #wilhemina venable x reader #billie dean howard x reader #ahs coven #witchcraft

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sinisterexaggerator · 1 year ago

Text

... In this essay, I will reiterate that "Cad Bane is a depressed, sentimental bastard."

OK, so, @fat-tasty-krogan pointed out that the barrels of Bane's LL-30's are rusty in the Bad Batch via a screenshot and now I cannot stop thinking about things and connecting the dots.

Here's me checking different angles. 100% rusty. This is a man who is the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, a man who is *the* best shot — that’s his livelihood right there. Something is wrong.

I've always thought Cad Bane was depressed, mostly owing to his behavior in the lost arc, but this solidifies it for me. Let's talk about the canon, shall we? (Fair warning: I may throw in headcanons or share some other thoughts along the way, but I will warn you ahead of time if it's an original idea versus what is considered to be canon).

First, let's take the idea that Jango Fett is mentor to Cad Bane. This in and of itself says to me they had a close relationship and that they often worked together in some capacity. I will spare you my thoughts on the rest, but Jango does in fact associate with him and most likely in a meaningful way we never get to see. Jango Fett does not trust easy, yet he trusts him enough to be around his child; his prized possession, let's say.

Proof: When Boba first mentions Bane, (in chorological order) it is in the comics.

Him asking to spend time with Bane, and Jango saying "no, because you already know of him (and others like Zam)," means they had a close-knit relationship in my opinion. One that sadly comes to an end. In this comic, Jango wants to train Boba to deal with "the factor of the unknown," versus the known. Hmmm.

Moving right along.

The next time we see or hear anything about Boba and Cad being in the same room is during the Rako Hardeen/Box Arc, and in the audiobook CW: Stories of Light and Dark in the short story "Bane's story" that is read by Corey Burton as Cad Bane.

In it he states that the "kid's all right," and that he "owed his father a few favors." In the story, he reiterates what happens between him, Eval, and Obi-Wan to Bossk and little Boba Fett. It was Bossk and Boba who helped to create the diversion so that they could break out and escape.

Bane returns, his job foiled, and explains why. At the end of the audiobook Boba has a plan to get them all out of jail, and he wants Bane to be apart of it. This is AFTER Aurra leaves Boba for dead on Florrum ( don't get me started on Hondo, WHEW - they knew each other too, for SURE ), before TBB, and before we see Bane with a plate in his head, this one:

It is still present in the Book of Boba Fett.

Let's not rush ahead, though. Let's back up to a bit to where Cad Bane gets betrayed.

#1 betrayal on screen is Obi-Wan Kenobi as Rako Hardeen. While I don't necessarily ship them, I can see how Cad was very much hurt by this, as he felt he had started to develop a kinship with another hunter, someone who could watch his back, imo. Maybe he hadn't experienced anything like that since Jango Fett. Maybe Rako was ticking all the right boxes; I see Cad as prizing loyalty. When Obi-Wan turned him over, you could see the pain and anger in expression -- he was truly hurt, and he promised to end his life with a blaster bolt between the eyes. I honestly think he despises him and that's that.

Returning now to Boba, it is also canon that Boba was mentored by Cad Bane. Bane's story is also where he mentioned young Boba often reminded him of himself.

In an unaired Clone Wars Arc, Boba Fett works together with Cad Bane on a job. During the animation created for the episodes that never aired, Bane is seen drinking heavily and seems to give two shits less about Boba or the job itself and is not taking things seriously.

Boba begins to question his tactics, and does not like that he is willing to sacrifice innocent townsfolk just to get a bit of money. He stands up against him, and Embo, Bossk, and other hunters present decide to let him take his shot and do not interfere in their duel, even though most likely Bane is seen to be the one in charge or having authority.

In the end they both fall, but Boba was (unfairly might I add) still wearing his helmet. You can tell that the plates on Bane's hat, however, are also armored. Still, it is not beskar. Bane is severely injured.

#2 betrayal: Bossk and Embo retract their weapons and let Bane go head-to-head with the boy. He even looks surprised in the video footage when they do this! It's the same face he gave Obi-Wan Kenobi!

Boba comes out the winner. We see Bossk with Boba in The Empire Strikes back in the future, and in canon they are known to be seen often together. He especially looked after him in prison on Coruscant.

Thus, we can assume, Bossk went off with Boba after Bane's defeat and joined forces, leaving him for dead. I assume, and in canon it is depicted that Embo is honor-coded. If what he thought Bane was doing was not honorable, he most likely left him for dead as well. What we DO see is Todo 360 being there. I am almost 100% certain it is because of his droid he survives. But, where did he take him for help? Hmmm.... HONDO!! (Kidding, kidding - another HC I have, but ANYWAY).

In fact, Todo states he is Bane's "most trusted confidant" to Omega, and I believe this. He's a grumpy dick, but he never outright punishes Todo for anything, and he messes up quite frequently, but he is also a great help.

I have a headcanon that states his reasonings for keeping Todo, though this has no basis in canon:

"The little shit comes back after he is blown apart by a bomb Cad himself planted to go off in the Jedi Temple. Todo is loyal. He's there for him. He doesn't mind he's a grump. He provides conversation; stimulation in the otherwise solitary hours he spends in space. He becomes a comfort, someone to talk to, someone to fill the void that Jango left behind." Perhaps he also acts in the same capacity as a service animal.

Anyway, it is known what Bane thinks about clones. "Once you figure one out, de rest are easy." I don't think he liked clones, even if he tolerated and respected Boba until a certain point in time. He was different, he had "his father's blood pumping through his veins," and maybe Bane had trouble staring at that face - looking in those eyes -especially if there was more to him and Fett's relationship.

Imagine how he must have felt when he betrayed him? When he shot him? When he failed at repaying Jango's favor and failed at being Boba's mentor?

I personally do not believe Bane would have agreed to the Clone contract idea as far as his opinion. I think he would have told Fett he was crazy to have millions of himself running around out there, that there is only one of him that's the real deal. Let's add this to the fact he has to see their dead and dying faces everywhere to the point he's so numb he shoots them every chance he gets - no big deal. No big deal to have to kill one of your partner's lookalikes everyday for nearly the rest of your life, eh? Even after Jango himself is already dead.

Coming to The Bad Batch, it was pointed out by another user that when Omega is looking for a way off Bane's ship, we see some medallions/coins/ingots that have the symbol of the Mythosaur in a cabinet she is searching. That is Mandalorian. Who was Mandalorian? Jango. Boba by default. They are accompanied here by a journal. I think it could be Boba's journal, too. The boy most likely resided with him on his ship as he had the Justifier during the lost arc and they were traveling together.

That man is 100% a sentimental bastard.

You could say he hated Boba. You could say he was his number one enemy, but deep down maybe he felt remorse. He had been drinking. Why? Maybe it was hard to be in Boba's company. Maybe he felt he could have prevented Jango's death. Maybe mentoring him was hard work, but in the end, Boba betrayed him after everything he had tried to do for him. And Bane liked the kid up until this point - said so himself in Bane's story.

In the lost bounty hunter arc, Cad is wearing the same outfit he is in The Bad Batch. Now he has a metal plate in his head. @allsystemsblue mentioned he talks himself up to Shand. Maybe he's trying to convince himself he's as good as he says he is. He headbutts her and it obviously throws him off. He shakes himself out, trying to regain his concentration. I personally headcanon he gets terrible headaches.

The plate is on the OUTSIDE, meaning it's protecting something underneath. I imagine he had a hole in his head and a bit of his skull was fractured. I say he wears the plate to reinforce a soft spot that makes him vulnerable.

Even so, she kicks his ass. He's off his game. Maybe he's been drinking even more since his defeat and embarrassment at the hands of a kid. One he respected, one maybe he called family.

All the other hunters sided with Boba, left him high and dry, and he hasn't even been caring for or polishing his blasters; his moneymakers. They are RUSTY.

He loses Omega, he loses his credits, and Fennec sabotages his ship. This man is pissed. He's at wit's end. For all we know, he sat down and cried afterward before he could figure a way off that damn planet, and the only one who was there for him was Todo.

Years later, we see him confront Boba. He's a hardass. Nothing left of his personality in that show but a villain. It was like they made him extra mean on purpose.

He's still hung up on the past, he says it. He talks about Jango's blood being inside Boba, his "father." He leers at Boba. It is almost as if he takes a pause (again crediting @allsystemsblue for this observation), a moment to truly look at him. And let's not forget the hiss he gives him right before his "final lesson."

"Look out for yourself, anything else is weakness."

GEE! Where did he learn that from, I wonder?! FROM BOBA HIMSELF MAYBE?! He was "weak" for Boba; he was his mentor; he tried his best to do right by his father and train him and he failed. He shot him, left him for dead, betrayed him along with all the other hunters present, and all that was left for him was to work alone. To grin and bear it. To take the jobs that came his way just to survive.

He had to of hit a downward spiral at some point in his life to come to this conclusion; something terrible must have happened, and I guarantee it's this.

Shat on all his life, all the way from being "hatched" in the Descent Ghetto on New Tayana on Duro, poor, coming up from the slums, working hard just to make ends meat.

Can't tell me he didn't have a wall up, and hell yes he was feeling low. What could make a man that mean besides betrayal and sentimentality for something he wishes perhaps he could have changed or prevented all together.

Now he takes the toughest jobs, the ones nobody wants. His reputation is fear and for good reason. He'll do anything for money, including killing innocents according to Boba. Where has his Code of Honor gone?

I'll tell you where.

No one ever respected Cad the way he tried to respect them. No one offered or afforded him the same luxury. Every time he was near to forming a decent partnership with someone, they turned right around and stabbed him in the back. We at least see it with Rako/Obi and Boba on screen. Bossk and Embo count too, for me. Maybe Jango was the only one he could trust. Him and Todo 360, which he was not around until long after Jango's death and in some form could have been a fractional replacement for companionship.

To throw in a few thoughts on Hondo, he knew them both well. Imagine if Hondo also kept secrets from Bane, whether intentional or not, or perhaps befriended him only to manipulate him for his own gain (which is definitely something that could happen). He speaks favorably of him in "Secrets of the Bounty Hunters," and calls him his friend, but he calls everyone that.

At one point they did work together as per the blurb on the back of a toy called the "Pirate Speeder bike," that features Cad Bane and a Starhawk speeder. If Hondo also betrayed him at some point, I can see it only adding fuel to the fire, IF Bane allowed him close to begin with. Considering his reputation, it's possible that no, he did not, but I also ship Cad Bane and Hondo Ohnaka as well as Jango Fett and Cad Bane. I won't go into it here, but I can see them being an insanely toxic, yet perfect match.

To sum it up, yes, he is totally depressed. I feel like this is why. Can't change my mind.

---

P.S.: This is also a lesson in how to cite your sources and give credit where credit is due when thinking about headcanons and fandom fun. :) Ain't so hard, right?

#Cad Bane #Headcanons #Duros #Star Wars #Jango Fett #Boba Fett #Book of Boba Fett #Clone Wars #The Bad Batch #Todo 360 #Bounty Hunters

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