#yes he has an intense loyalty to his friends in the organization
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:3 teehee
#pidge plays veilguard#oc: vena de riva#im slooowly retooling the vague backstory i wrote for vena#no he does not like The Crows As A Whole#yes he has an intense loyalty to his friends in the organization#he and viago i think joined (were drafted~) around the same age#they're ride or die but WILL die before admitting it#teia of course thinks theyre adorable#they argue over who's her favorite#teia of course declines to choose a favorite#which ofc infuriates viago#vena and teia are beautiful bitches together#go out on lil coffee dates to talk shit#vena also likes to third wheel#once again bc it pisses viago off
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@tigermcth asks: are there any aspects of their job that your muse hides from others?, how often does your muse take time off? do they enjoy it, or do they think it slows them down? | ON THE JOB
how often does your muse take time off? do they enjoy it, or do they think it slows them down?
Katsuo rarely takes time off from work. His dedication to his responsibilities at Arasaka and his personal drive to maintain his position means that he prioritizes work over personal downtime. However, when he does take a break, it’s usually out of necessity rather than leisure, such as recovering from exhaustion or when the job temporarily allows it. He might also take time off when he feels the need to regroup mentally or when reflecting on personal matters, especially after emotionally intense situations.
When Katsuo does allow himself downtime, it’s often spent doing activities that align with his interests, such as organizing his manga collection, practicing for theater, or pursuing his personal hobbies, but it’s never for long. The constant pressure of the corporate world and his own internal expectations mean that true relaxation is a rare luxury for him.
are there any aspects of their job that your muse hides from others?
Yes, Katsuo likely hides several aspects of his work at Arasaka, especially considering the sensitive and morally ambiguous nature of corporate dealings in a world dominated by megacorporations. Some aspects he may keep hidden include:
1. Black Ops and Covert Assignments – If Katsuo is involved in clandestine or morally gray operations, such as sabotage, espionage, or eliminations of targets deemed threats to the corporation, he would likely keep these details from most people, including his closest friends or associates.
2. Cybernetic Enhancements and Corporate Control – If Arasaka has fitted him with advanced cyberware that ties him more closely to the corporation’s control, such as proprietary neural links, he may not disclose the full extent of this to avoid revealing how deeply integrated he is into the company.
3. Internal Conflicts – Katsuo might hide any doubts or internal struggles about Arasaka’s ethics and their larger impact on the world, especially if he feels conflicted between his loyalty to his family legacy and the dark truths he’s learned about the corporation.
4. Classified Information – Naturally, any information deemed classified by Arasaka would be off-limits for him to share, even with those he trusts. This could range from technological developments to political power plays involving Arasaka’s competition.
By concealing these aspects, Katsuo maintains a facade of professionalism and loyalty, while protecting himself from the potential dangers of betraying corporate secrets or revealing too much about his personal reservations.
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Genshin Fic Recs
so... i ventured into the vast world of Google looking for some good GI fic recs... only to find such a pitiful amount that i was promptly devastated. therefore, the solution is to make my own! :D
keep in mind most of these will be ChiLi or XingYun, and yes, i will try not to include smut unless it was one i really really liked. if anyone wants a separate list for just smut (though that will most likely be shorter) i can try to make one later.`
ft. my bookmark comments :)
CHILI
wrapped up in pure gold by beyondwinter
(chili; accidental marriage; chili/childe-centric; 22k words; ongoing)
"Do you understand its meaning, Childe?" He finally asks. There's a hard glint in his eyes, like he's trying to steel himself for his answer.
"Yeah." Loyalty and devotion, right? Between business partners? "I do. It's traditional, isn't it?"
Zhongli's eyes glow a warm amber in the near darkness, reflecting the soft shine of the lanterns. He studies his face with a strange intensity, as though Childe were a piece of high quality Nocticulous Jade being sold for suspiciously small sum and he's trying to find the blemishes that would explain the price. The weight of his gaze should be uncomfortable, boring into him like he can see into the very depths of his abyss-tainted soul, but Childe finds himself preening under the attention instead.
Childe accidentally proposes to Zhongli. Zhongli accepts.
The World is Water by Millereflets
(chili; smut; hurt/comfort; chili-centric; 7k words; oneshot)
Childe doesn't visit Zhongli until it's almost too late.
(my bookmarks: HOW DO YOU MAKE A SMUT SCENE SO POETIC HOLY SHITTTTT)
Set in Stone by seredemia
(chili; fake dating au; angst; some smut?; chili/chiilde-centric; 55k words; ongoing)
What do you do when you write about a certain six thousand year old consultant so much in your letters that it somehow convinces your entire family you're not only dating each other, but that you're also engaged?
In Childe's case, the answer is plain and simple: he goes along with it, of course. Absolutely nothing can go wrong if he makes a contract with the God of Contracts, vowing that the two of them will pretend to be lovers for the duration of his family's stay in Liyue. Afterwards, they'll return as normal and speak no more of this mess. No feelings or complications involved whatsoever.
Contract accepted. A fool-proof plan set in stone. Right?
Private Ledger of the Eleventh Harbinger by JuHuaTai
(chili; humor; getting together; chili/ekaterina-centric; 5k words; oneshot)
“So guess what I did next?”
Ekaterina contemplated not answering, but Harbinger Tartaglia was just… grinning and waiting. It’s honestly rather creepy the longer time passed.
In the end, she gave a long suffering sigh that seems lost on him, “You bought him the Erhu—“
“I bought him the antique, cor lapis based Erhu,”
-
When she first left her homeland for the unknown nation of Liyue, Ekaterina was ready to be many things: To be a soldier, to fell Tsaritsa’s enemies in her name, to bring glory to Snezhnaya and her leader.
Being a receptionist in a cozy bank wasn’t so bad in comparison, but she absolutely can do without the front row seat to Harbinger Tartaglia’s (expensive) love life.
i know i'm where i'm meant to go by paperclips (pastel_paperclips)
(chili; humor; fluff; chili-centric; 12k words; ongoing)
"Childe," Zhongli says suddenly. "I am enjoying myself greatly." Childe’s face breaks into a grin. "Then-" Zhongli gasps, grabbing his wrist and tugging him over to an unsuspecting peddler with a cart full of rocks. "Is that an intrusive igneous pegmatite formed in the Inazuma regions?" Childe’s grin smooths into a small, adoring smile. He has all the time in the world to figure the other man out.
OR: Finding the Geo Archon is on Childe's to-do list but hanging out with Zhongli is significantly more fun.
CHILIVEN
Crumbling Stone by avtorSola
(chiliven; ANGST; PAIN; mind control; zhongli-centric; 74k words; ongoing)
When Morax unleashes his plan to test the Liyue Qixing and his adepti, he does not take into account the stirring of the Abyss Order in the north and the corruption of Dvalin - for why would he fear an organization that works in such shadows? He is secure in his power, after all, unlike his flighty ex, the absentee archon of Mondstadt who rises only when his people are in danger.
But, somehow, the Abyss Order discovers his plan. Somehow, they capitalize on it. And he, the God of Stone who cannot sicken, is struck down - taken by an order bent on destroying all of humanity as Liyue crumbles around him. For even Archons aren't immune to Durin's blood, and Morax is no exception. But then the question becomes - if even Archons may fall to the agony of this corrupting burn - how is their traveling friend Aether immune?
The answer comes from beyond the stars - an ancient malice that knows no kindness or mercy. A malice whose legacy the Abyss Order now bears, seeking to topple all the Archons and their people into the void of utter destruction. And they have begun in Liyue.
Fortunately, it takes a long time to erode stone.
(my bookmarks: IM SCREAMING AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA)
PLATONIC ZHONGVEN
left-behind city by trixstar
(platonic zhongven; angst; ANGST; venti-centric; 1k words; oneshot)
"An associate of mine has just informed me that Rex Lapis, the Geo Archon has been assassinated."
Venti blinks.
Or: Venti and how he copes with finding out he is all that remains.
i circle ten thousand years long; and i still do not know if i am a falcon, a storm, or an unfinished song by birdsofpassage
(platonic zhongven; angst; hurt/comfort; zhongven-centric; 4k words; oneshot)
Venti and Zhongli, and the vignettes of a much-needed vacation around Mondstadt.
(my bookmarks: ; - ; ; - ; )
oh ye with little faith by air_fried_air
(platonic zhongven; angst; hurt/comfort; zhongven-centric; 2k words; oneshot)
Two former archons do a little tour around Mondstadt.
(my bookmarks: why are all genshin angst fics so melancholy.... i feel so empty)
the wind through the mountain tops by glassdrachma
(platonic zhongven; humor; hurt/comfort; zhongven-centric; 21k words; finished)
Boredom brings Barbatos of Mondstadt to bother a certain ex-Archon of the Earth.
(my bookmarks: venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship venti zhongli friendship-)
XINGYUN
the art of exorcism by Agried
(xingyun; ghost au; hurt/comfort; chongyun-centric; 9k words; oneshot)
On the road back from one of his jobs, Chongyun runs into Xingqiu, the wandering swordsman. And then they keep meeting, over and over again. or, alternately; how a ghost and an exorcist learn how to love, one step at a time.
Bane of All Evil by tzitzimeme
(xingyun; humor; romance; chongyun-centric; 24k words; hiatus)
When Chongyun unintentionally offends Liyue's second most powerful adepti, he vows to mend the thorny relationship between Adeptus Xiao and human exorcists-- even though no one has succeeded in currying Xiao's favor for over a thousand years.
His best friend Xingqiu offers to come alone, mainly because he's worried about what kind of trouble Chongyun will run into. Along the way, they receive help from others: Xiangling packs them meals for their journeys, while Zhongli gives them advice on what demons to track.
Childe is just there because he thinks the whole thing is hilarious.
[On indefinite hiatus due to burnout; sorry!]
kiss me slowly (so i don't forget) by xiwangmu
(xingyun; humor; romance; light angst; xingqiu-centric; 8k words; oneshot)
Wangshu Inn Bulletin Board
Guest Message: My best friend whom I harbor affections for kissed me last night, but due to his special condition he does not recall a single moment of it. I am quite conflicted about whether to disclose these events to him or not, because that would most certainly require me to confess my feelings as well. If anyone has experience in romancing boys with excessive positive energy, this one humbly asks you to share some advice.
Reply: Our greatest apologies—although we would like to offer some words in response, we simply cannot decipher your handwriting. Perhaps you may return with a neater message next time?
time trials by idlestars
(xingyun/many ships; humor; modern au; xingyun-centric; 2k words; oneshot)
A modern social media AU.
Xingqiu Teases Demons. Chongyun Almost Cries. [The clip shows Xingqiu, lit by the sickly green of night vision, as he stares bored into a dark room. He’s alone - Chongyun left to see if Xingqiu could lure out the ghosts. Xingqiu glances at the camera, smirks, and then opens his mouth.
“Hey demons, it’s me, yah boy.”]
OTHER/GEN
woe be the wallet of the god of wealth by glassdrachma
(gen; humor; identity reveal; keqing/zhongli-centric; 12k words; finished)
Or, the story of how the Yuheng of the Qixing came to idolize, befriend, and discover the identity of the God of Geo, in that order.
(personal comments: hilarious, made me burst out into laughter multiple times, and was just a masterful piece of writing)
to dream of dust by miao_x
(guili/gen; ANGST; hurt/no comfort; zhongli-centric; 5k words; oneshot)
Some nights, Zhongli dreams.
He dreams of soft light, golden song, and a gentle breeze whispering tales of millennia past. It is warm, familiar, and comforting.
It feels like home.
And then he opens his eyes, and awakes to reality.
(my bookmarks: oh zhongli... made me cry)
To drown in your own tears by C_rin_nyan
(guili/gen; ANGST; TEARS; PAIN; zhongli-centric; 2k words; oneshot)
As Rex Lapis, he had never shed a tear, even as he slaughtered hundreds, destruction following his every step. As Zhongli, he had shed much more than he would like to admit, however.
Or, “Zhongli’s soul gave its last scream long ago, yet even now, the echo of said sound was still strong enough to reach Rex Lapis.”
#fic rec#fic recs#fanfic#fanfic recs#genshin#genshin impact#ao3#chili#tartali#zhongchi#xingyun#childe#zhongli#xingqiu#chongyun#venti#zhongven#guili#guizhong#angst
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I'm going down a Cho rabbit hole rn!! Do you have any Cho fic recs?? I'd love to read more Cho
hello anon, welcome to the rabbit hole, just wanted to let you know that this is one of those asks i dream about getting because cho chang? oft-overlooked-and-underappreciated-in-fandom cho chang?? why yes i would LOVE to stand on this soapbox and talk endlessly about her and my favorite writings that feature her <3
i get that a lot of the pairings featured in these fics/drabbles are very not mainstream lol but please don’t let that scare you off because honestly?? these are all a mix of fun, brilliant, stunning, transcendent stories and i have spent approximately a million hours thinking about each one of these because the character building and emotional payoff and dimensional portrayal of cho is overwhelmingly just so satisfying. so capable of filling that void canon left. so chef’s kiss.
gonna do my best to pick a line from each fic/drabble that i think does a good job of capturing its ✨ essence ✨ so. here we gooo. (mature/explicit fics noted with an asterisk * ).
record scratch * by @provocative-envy — modern, best man and maid of honor au (cho x marcus flint)
“You and Cho—my best and dearest and most precious friend in the world, Cho—you know each other, don’t you?” Marietta asks, just a bit too sweetly.
There’s a beat of awkward silence, then, and Cho very responsibly avoids the heavy, frantic weight of Marcus’s gaze, which has suddenly—coolly—intently—snapped over to her.
“so it starts at the tail end of the war...” by @provocative-envy — canon divergent au (cho x marcus flint)
“i don’t want to get away,” she tells him, wincing at the strain on her vocal chords. “this is–this is it, can’t you feel it? this is how it ends.”
good behavior by @provocative-envy — canon divergent, postwar au, also the sequel to the above drabble (cho x marcus flint)
Well, his “muggle integration counselor” needs to be able to find him.
“marcus flint knows a lot about destruction...” by @provocative-envy — high school au (cho x marcus flint)
“I’m bad at math,” he blurts out, jaw working as he folds his arms over his chest. He feels defensive. Frustration prickles a familiar dance across his scalp. “This is, like, my third time taking trig. They always—I get lost when that fucking—when the circle thing with the dotted lines shows up.”
tick tick boom by @provocative-envy — superhero au (cho x marcus flint)
Cho Chang now works for the nonprofit across the street, a legal defense fund for superheroes who aren’t lucky enough to have corporate sponsors or full-fledged PR teams.
Marcus sees her, occasionally.
heads or tails * by @provocative-envy — thief acquaintances au (cho x marcus flint)
“We aren’t jack shit, sweetheart,” she mimics obnoxiously. “Yes, I know.”
His nostrils flare. “What’s the fucking problem, then?”
flying before falling by andtheyfightcrime — canon compliant (cho x cedric diggory)
Cho sniffs, "Maybe we just think there's more to hello than sticking your tongue down someone's throat." Cedric groans at that and says, "You shatter my illusions, Chang. We could have been in Hufflepuff together."
fifty ways by andtheyfightcrime — canon compliant (cho x cedric diggory)
Being in like with Cedric is a lot like being friends with him, only with more private smiles and demure nods.
big head boy by @cocoartistwrites — university au (cho x percy weasley)
She makes him nervous, with her shiny hair and her firm, straight brows and her piercing dark eyes and the haughty way she argues with him, and how she slams everything he says, how she sounds like his sister, Ginny, sometimes, when Ginny hears him talking, how assured she is, how angry, how sometimes she argues with their tutor – their brilliant, famous tutor – once, memorably, calling him an outdated sexist pig and –
“the thing about cho chang...” by @provocative-envy — zombie survival au (cho x cormac mclaggen)
Out of everyone? Back at camp? That he could’ve gotten trapped in a fucking abandoned Bass Pro Shop with? While a horde of fucking razor-talon zombies mashed their rotting gray faces up against the tastefully organized display windows?
Cho Chang would not have been Cormac’s first choice.
the sweet spot by @provocative-envy — modern, celebrity au (cho x cormac mclaggen)
His smile is authentic in ways that she doubts he’s aware of, in ways that she doubts he’s even capable of understanding, and it unnerves her a little bit, having all that energy, all that intensity, all that smug, self-fulfilling excitement directed right at her, totally unfiltered.
hiding in plain sight by @mxrcusflint — high school au (cho x cormac mclaggen)
Cormac McLaggen, she thinks, has probably broken more hearts than earned A’s.
descent (or how to stop being a national hero) by watername — canon divergent au (cho x viktor krum if you squint, but also not really)
At the second task, when the competitors dive beneath the lake, he drums his fingers against the railing and wonders what kind of person inspires such loyalty.
when the lights go out by thatdarkhairedgirl — second war resistance au (cho x viktor krum)
He missed her. He’s known her for less than a year and he missed her.
flights of fancy by namelessamelie — canon divergent au (cho x draco malfoy)
“You don’t have to defend him,” he interrupted, cutting her off. “Potter’s not as wonderful as he’d have everyone believe, and you know that better than anyone.” Then, before he’d fully thought it through, he added impulsively, “One hero isn’t a replacement for another.”
caught by blood sugar love — canon divergent, postwar, rebellion au (cho x draco malfoy)
Cho blinks. "I mean... I-I sit, and I think about it. How much you've ruined everything. It's really amazing, when I tally it all up. How much you owe. Especially if your father dies."
the sporting life * by blythely — canon divergent au (cho x pansy parkinson)
Cho wins but it's probably because on the last match point Pansy is looking at Cho rather than at the ball.
seeking * by Gelsey — postwar, ministry au (cho x charlie weasley)
“Fucker,” she said, righting her clothes in quick, economical movements, though her hands were trembling. She tossed her hair.
a moment’s silence (happens grace, happens sweet) by disinclinant — second war order au (cho x charlie weasley)
“I’ve no idea who you are,” Charlie replies, amused and vaguely charmed by this explanation of how she knows him through the process of elimination.
moon walk * by @provocative-envy — modern au (cho x antonin dolohov)
She stares at him for a minute, blatantly astonished and visibly apprehensive, and then she blushes. Hard. Gnaws on her lower lip and sweeps her eyes from his face to his chest and—very, very quickly—even lower.
even the score * by themidnightguardian — olympics au (cho x ginny weasley)
It’s a tepid rivalry at best—something that’s fierce on the field and almost entirely absent off it—and they’ve only spoken a handful of words to each other since their college days, but when it comes to women’s soccer, the Chang-Weasley rivalry is the hot gossip because it’s the only gossip.
Which is why twitter loses its shit when they both make the Olympic team.
that’s what she said by @provocative-envy — hockey au (cho x ginny weasley)
“Hey, why don’t you like me?”
Cho’s face twitches oddly. Defensively. “Why don’t I—excuse me?”
playing favourites by Slumber — postwar, healer au (cho x oliver wood)
The first time Cho catches Oliver Wood wandering St Mungo's ward nowhere near his own, he at least has the grace to look embarrassed.
#cho chang#hp#deifiliaa recs#this is a very long post and i'm probably gonna realize two hours after posting this that i've left out one or two other cho fics i adore 🤷#oh well i'll take the L when the time comes but for now!!! enjoy all of these friends!!!! each of these have made me feel *things*#at some point in time and i want to hear all of your thoughts about them!! <3#additionally lmao this truly is also just a campaign for me to get more people on the marcho ship looool rip that#some of these are very significant to me not necessarily because of the cho portrayal but because of how much it's stuck with me#and the SETTING and the GUT PUNCH some of these give are just. 👁👄👁 ouch man.#anyway yeah let it be known i love her your honor!!! thank u to all writers who explore her as a deep and complex character!!
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Do you think terry has ever hated anyone?
Yes.
Terry's emotional, over impulsive and volatile.
He loves and hates with intensity.
Terry hated, and in equal measure loved his parents for being dysfunctional, pushy and despotic. He loved them for being his, as he loves everything that he deems his, but I think he also never forgave them for being the way they are and for turning him into the thing he is, or rather, breeding him the way he is and influencing a great many of his views later in life, feeling he carries a genetic sort of hunger he cannot fill. A taught type of need and knowledge on how to wear masks, conceal himself, play pretense and fabricate personas. He inherited wealth, but he also inherited a great many other things, like the isolation that came with being from generational old money. Terry only ever wanted love, but it is hard to be truly loved when all people ever see is the cash. He loves the cash, don't get me wrong, but it has made him an idea rather then a man.
In the aftermath, Terry hated Captain Turner for making him feel inadequate. Less than. Weak. For making him feel like someone who isn't bound to survive the army and survive Vietnam. Someone puny --- someone who's the most fragile link out of the bunch; ingraining in him a sense of inadequacy that has followed him in a great many decades after the war was over. The soldiers who probably taunted him along with his commanding officer turned him into Twig and he's spent ages trying to wash Twig off himself like an ugly, awfully persistent stain, going to extreme lengths of rather becoming another person entirely when he usurped Ponytail --- so when Captain Turner was thrown down that pit by John, it felt eerily right. Earned.
Furthermore, Terry despised those who killed Ponytail, and he attributed the actions of a few enemy soldiers during a time of warfare unto a whole people and a whole race and at certain times, a whole continent. The irrational gravitas of his prejudice was so big and all encompassing that it couldn't be rationalized any other way but by hating an entire part of the world and hating himself for not being stronger to prevent the death of his friend from happening in the first place. Maybe if he wasn't so clumsy? Maybe if he was actually competent? Maybe if he was a better soldier? Maybe if he actually learned something at basic training? Maybe then not everything would be Silver's fault. Maybe then he wouldn't have to be polluting half of the Third World in an attempt to avenge a distance mistake.
Terry hated Daniel Larusso and Mr. Miyagi due to what they represented. Due to what they made John feel. They made John feel defeat. Disappointment. Sadness. The fact that someone could, or rather dared make John feel all of those things filled Terry with righteous indignation no matter how petty and small the offense was, and at least in that short window of time concocting his elaborate revenge plan, Terry truly hated them past the point of all rationale and yes, he wanted to see them suffering, destroyed, stomped, broken, picked apart. I don't think cocaine had anything to do with it. I think Terry sees someone he deems his friend crossed and he goes all out settling the score in their name because his bias is a fierce and dangerous thing and his loyalty and dedication knows no bounds. That's who he is.
In thirty years absence John was gone, I think Terry hated John the way someone with a broken heart hates someone else; Not really, not truly hating, but all the love and the friendship and the devotion didn't have where to go so it festered into bitter-sweetness inside of him, like a rotting organ needing removal. In equal measure, I think Terry hated all the people he used to pad John's absence with and make himself seem commonplace and tame. An artificial, new man. He despised each and every one of them and their stupid habits, their stupid eating regimen, the way they posture themselves, their fake smiles, their fake mannerisms, their fake small talk, their fake care of him, their fake business ventures. He hated them all...until he was indifferent. They served their purpose and he dropped them all.
Terry hates Johnny Lawrence because Johnny Lawrence is another person John has a connection to. Not necessarily a love connection. Not necessarily anything positive where bonds are concerned --- but a link, nonetheless --- and a link's a link, no matter how toxic, abusive, sick and unstable. He can't stand that link. He can't stand that history. He can't stand to feel he's in competition with anyone or anything else for a place in Kreese's life. As such, he wants Johnny Lawrence's hide nailed to the wall like a collected war trophy. This drunkard, this loser, this idiot, this unpolished nobody gets to be on John's mind occasionally and it makes Terry wanna kill. Yes, he's jealous. Yes, he's envious. Yes, he's territorial and fiercely defensive. Yes, he'd rather put Kreese in jail for a while if it means a solid opening for him to effectively do Johnny in for good.
Finally, I think Terry hates himself. Or at least, certain aspects of himself. He hates himself when he thinks he isn't devoted enough. He isn't good enough --- a side-effect of narcissism where he always must be the best to overcompensate for a time when he wasn't and when it had dire consequences. When he perceives he has weaknesses that affect him which he can't be rid of. When he's hit by his PTSD, by memories of the past, by flashbacks. When he's faced with loss of control. When he cannot influence situations, outcomes and people. When he feels caged and stifled even though he personally placed himself into a cage by choice. He hates Twig, representing the whimpering, scared kid he used to be, and which he, deep down, probably still is. He hates him and wanted him gone fifty years, but for all intents and purposes, Twig's still there.
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Randou and the Sins of Season 3's Fifteen Adaption (Part 47/???)
Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud (26/?)
Given the storyline’s reliance on this specific facet of his personality in the novel, there can be no doubt that, in what can be considered equal parts a precious blessing and a tragic curse to his own existence, one of the most powerful elements of Randou’s character, besides his extraordinary compassion and gentiliy, is the gift he has of possessing a heart and mind that can see the potential for good and for change in all beings, if only they would put forth the effort to try — no matter how small the chance of that happening might actually be.
Whereas the rest of the world may look upon beings and ability users like Chuuya Nakahara and Paul Verlaine — whom are, respectively, the human vessel of Arahabaki, and Rimbaud’s own beloved Transcendent partner and ‘friend’, known for his unrivaled title as King of Assassins — and view them as dangerous monsters, Rimbaud himself sees beyond all of this, glimpsing the humanity in those whom everyone else would call inhuman, and seeing the rays of hope for salvation in those whom all others would gladly condemn.
In this way, it can certainly be said that the ebony-haired mafioso is quite optimistic and idealistic in his outlook — even fatally so, truthfully.
Yes, although this way of thinking absolutely paved the way for him to positively change the lives of many people who desperately needed such help and encouragement, that very same strength, when combined with all of the other beautiful traits that made him such a unique and wonderful soul who was capable of these amazing things — his intense loyalty and obvious transparency, his softspoken and gentle yet deeply loving heart, and his desire to never be a disappointment or inconvenience to others — also proved to be his greatest weakness in his own daily life, until it ultimately led to his highly lamentable death.
Truly, Arthur was simply not suited for this life that he had been so cruelly dealt; even if we were to temporarily set aside all of the physical and emotional suffering he endured at the hands of the cold-hearted, abusive, and traitorous Verlaine — the PTSD from which essentially ensured his premature demise years before it came to pass — for later discussion in a more appropriate area, and focus for the moment only on his time as an associate executive, it nonetheless remains something of a miracle that he managed to survive within the Mafia even for as long as he did.
Most assuredly, Illuminations, as an ability, is a terribly handy and useful asset for any organization to have, and it went a long way in protecting its master’s life until it had the chance to be recognized as just that by Mori, but even so, Transcendental with an exceptionally powerful gift or not, it is also no wonder why he was cast out to the frontlines like yesterday’s trash by the old boss with no concern for whether he lived or died in lieu of being promoted, either.
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#linklethehistorian#bungou stray dogs#bsd#bsd spoilers#spoilers#bsd season 3#bsd novels#fifteen#Arthur Rimbaud#bsd arthur rimbaud#Randou#justiceforrandou2k19#justiceforrandou2k20#justiceforrandou2k21#fifteen article#Randou and the Sins of Season 3’s Fifteen Adaption#Bones' Biggest Changes & Greatest Failures — The Tragedy of Arthur Rimbaud#Dazai and Randou’s Party for Chuuya#writing#My writing#my thoughts#On Randou’s Genuine Compassion & Consideration and His Impossible Purity of Heart
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Finn Fluff Meme (I, K, V, & Y)
Because fucka this, it’s my blog and we need more Finn love dammit!
I = Impression (What was their first impression?):
Sweaty. You thought he was incredibly sweaty. And not in the sexy kind of way, but in the “somebody just got caught doing something they probably shouldn’t be doing” kind of way. And given that he appeared to be sneaking around the escape pods, you had every reason to determine that that was exactly the case.
It only got worse when you learned that this sweaty, stuttering mess was actually the same man whose name was traveling fast among the remaining Resistance members. Suffice to say, you had a completely different image built up in your head when you’d first heard about Finn: Strong, courageous, confident, cool . . . You might’ve been setting yourself up for disappointment when you had learned that, well, he was such some kid no older than yourself, just as frazzled as you were about your current circumstances but more willing to show it. Truth be told, you couldn’t exactly blame him, but you also couldn’t let him know that.
Admittedly, Finn didn’t exactly think much of you -- which wasn’t to say he thought lesser of you or that you had no redeeming qualities about you, he just wasn’t in a mindset to think much of you beyond “shorter than him”, “not Rey/unrecognizable”, and so on. To be fair, nearly everyone else he sprinted by had gotten just about the same assessment from him: He was more so focused on what happened, what was happening, where he even was, and where Rey was. Not the most pleasant first impression, where the person who would become your significant other is too busy focusing on another woman.
Thankfully, he got a second chance.
As it turned out, you were correct in your initial expectations of Finn -- to a degree. He was certainly brave, if foolhardy at times; his strength lay in his resilience and loyalty and willingness to help out in the end, even in the face of his own worries and wants; in addition, while there were very few especially unsavory characters you’d come across in the Resistance, Finn was, by far, one of the sweetest. You took back all your previous concerns: Finn was, without a doubt, the hero you’d imagined him to be -- only better.
And yet, the entire while, Finn didn’t see those traits about him. In fact, while you were convinced he was a hero, he was convinced more and more every day that you fit the hero title better. After all, you were competent even at the first sign of danger; you were able to actually compartmentalize and know when to be intense and when to allow your natural sensitivities show. When the two of you talked more, you weren’t too afraid to admit to him that you were actually constantly worried and sometimes even found yourself questioning the sense of it all, if the future held any promise worth fighting for. Yet here you were, a pilot still willing to fly out upon the first command. Not out of blind obedience, thankfully, but to you, it simply made sense: You didn’t know for sure if the Resistance would be victorious in the end, but you had to fight because at least there was a chance; by not fighting, then you already knew what the answer was.
It did well to remind Finn of this from time to time until, eventually, the roles were switched: In the beginning, you thought Finn would be your hero. He still was, though in a much more familial sense. Meanwhile, you had become Finn’s own hero.
K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?):
First kiss was sudden, excited, and very awkward; almost like a schoolboy’s. But it could be forgiven for two reasons:
For one, it’s not as though Finn had been in the right environment to learn how to properly kiss up until relatively recently. And for two, you were pretty sure he was riding on a high of excitement: A transmission had come in from one of the squadrons that the mission, initially deemed bleak, had turned for the better. Much better, in fact! Clearly, Finn had to ride this as far as he could -- including, apparently, down a path where he asked to take you on a date.
“Or, you know, well,” he stammered, face burning with blush. “As date-like as we can get in a more or less run-down base? Er, that didn’t sound promising . . . But I can promise you, I’ll make it work -- ”
You would’ve been a complete nerf-herder to say no to the Resistance’s “Big Deal”!
In hindsight, he should’ve known better than to be that excited. You hadn’t exactly been secretive about how fond you were of Finn: The two of you had grown rather close in spite of the less-than-promising first impressions. Any spare time he had that wasn’t spent resting or training was spent with you, talking or trying his best to stay awake just to he could enjoy every moment he could with you. And any free time you had, you were more than happy to spend watching him work or train or sharing stories of your life before joining the Resistance.
But then again, just because it wasn’t exactly a secret didn’t mean that neither of you requested a certain decorum about it: You had made many a threat to General Dameron that if he kept referencing your obviously budding feelings, you would “push him down a slope and make it look like an accident.” And while Finn’s attempts at shushing his friend weren’t as violent, he had no qualms attempting to manually shut his mouth. Thankfully, though, Poe wasn’t there to smirk proudly at the sight. And to directly witness what happened next.
In hindsight, Finn wasn’t even sure what possessed him to do it -- maybe he subconsciously saw other partners in the Resistance do it when they reunited or something? Maybe he thought it was just something you were meant to do? Maybe he was just way too high on the excitement of the moment? Well, whatever the hell it was, he sure did go for it: He grabbed you by the waist, picked you up, and went in for the kiss he’d been dreaming about for so long.
In hindsight, he should’ve probably taken it slow. Maybe keep his eyes open for a bit. Long enough to make sure your lips were actually going to connect, maybe. At least he had the decency to place you down gently, despite the sudden pain caused by your heads colliding and teeth bonking against one another.
As he sheepishly ushered you out of mission control and towards the infirmary to treat your now bleeding nose, that was of course when Poe decided to show up.
“The Hell did you do to her, did you headbutt her out of happiness?!” he quipped as he watched his hugely embarrassed companion skitter down the corridor with his new datemate, of whom was currently occupied with looking upwards while pinching their nose.
(After Poe got the story, he had to excuse himself from the room and wheeze himself into an infirmary visit.)
Thankfully, Finn hadn’t broken your nose, and thankfully you were a pretty good sport about it.
“You were just caught up in the excitement, that’s all. It was cute, if a bit painful,” you smiled weakly. But you had meant it: As bonked up as the attempt had been, the one thing you couldn’t say was that it was forgettable. Though, from then on, you wanted to keep “kisses” like that strictly to that one memory: Any kisses from now on needed to be authorized so that surprises like that wouldn’t wind up with visits to the medical wing like this.
Though, you were more than happy to help him practice that.
V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?):
His accomplishments. To say that Finn ever saw his life turning out this way would be to tell an outright lie: The only expectations Stormtroopers are allowed to have is to remain loyal, to fire when told, and to be ready to lay down their lives for the First Order. The only hope or dream one could personally have is to live to fight destroy another day. But escape did happen in spite of the odds.
And even in the present, Finn has difficulty entirely believing that it had happened at all: He has a better understanding of the world around him; he has loved ones; he has a purpose where he, as an individual, is valued; he has a life! Ever since he could remember, he’d been taught to be melded with everyone else and to not stand out. So, as one could imagine, the rise from faceless Stormtrooper in sanitation to the general in a resistance organization would be nothing to sniff at or gloss over. And, truth be told, he can’t help but be prideful about it. Not arrogantly so, but enough to joke about it to you.
“Is that any way to speak to a general?” he jokes whenever you call him a goof.
“Come back safe. That’s an order from your superior,” he’ll tell you before you fly off for recon, adding in a clumsy wink.
(Additionally, Finn is actually proud of the fact that he’s Force-sensitive. Not loudly so, mind you, but in a quiet way. He’s not especially prone to showing it off due to his lack of experience with it, but that’s not going to stop this mad lad from trying to use it to pour you a cup of water, or bring him his jacket even though you’re right there. Heck, he’d going to try to use it to bring the jacket because you’re right there. The only problem is that when he does this, there’s a 50-50 chance that the water jog will go careening into a wall or be defenestrated, or that his jacket will collide so hard into his face that it’s accompanied by a slapping sound.)
(If there’s one thing Finn may not be proud of, it may be asking Rey to help him train after one too many Force Incidents.)
Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?):
Yes. Eventually. Maybe. Just not now.
Let it be reminded, once more, that Finn’s entire life has been a cluster: He went from serving the First Order to going on the run to winding up with the Resistance and participating on the other side of a war he never wanted anything to do with in the first place. Don’t get the wrong idea, Finn doesn’t regret a bit of it. After all, so many great and amazing things came from this: He got out of a bad environment; he made lifelong friends; he discovered his Force sensitivity; he helped win on the right side of history; and he met you!
But all these happened sort of at once, all things considered. He needs a bit of breathing room. And now, with the war beginning to wind down, it seems he’ll have more opportunities to embrace exactly that.
Not having to stick around to be a general for a resistance group means he can explore his freedoms as never before. It means traversing the galaxy without needing any real reason to besides for enjoyment. The thought is actually almost overwhelming for Finn: There aren’t really any orders left to follow as the dust settles. The temptation to go buck wild is strong, but he does fight it off because alongside that, there’s also the excitement of knowing that he can now focus his time on himself. That is, exploring himself as he explores the galaxy -- with you.
He wants you to be there with him as he learns for the first time in his life what a freer world feels like. He wants to be there with you as you get to experience planets without being covert or on a mission. You both just want to be with each other without any expectations besides where you plan on going.
It is said that love in a time of war can bloom much like a flower in stone slab, and you both would dare to agree that you’re living proof of that. That being said, marriage can wait: For now, you’re both plenty fine with just being yourselves in a new era -- whatever that may mean for the both of you respectively.
#star wars finn#star wars finn x reader#finn x reader#star wars x reader#star wars imagine#fn-2187#star wars imagines#regrettablewritings#fluff alphabet#fluff headcanons
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{ cis woman, she/her } ❝ the house don’t fall if the bones are good . ❞ huh, who’s CHLOE BENNET ? no , you’re mistaken , that’s actually PETRA ROSIER . she is a 25 year old PUREBLOOD witch who is an AUROR . she is known for being CAPRICIOUS , MANIPULATIVE , IMPATIENT , CYNICAL , and VAIN but also LOGICAL , LOYAL , DISCIPLINED , RESOURCEFUL , and VERSATILE , so that must be why she always reminds me of the song CRAZY BY DANIELA ANDRADE and FRESH PARCHMENT , AN ORGANIZED DESK , THE SOUND OF RAIN CLATTERING AGAINST THE WINDOW , CONCEALED SCARS, and A VIAL OF TEARS . i hear she is aligned with NO ONE , so be sure to keep an eye on her. { kasper, 23, PST, he/his }
! PETRA hails from the ROSIER family , one of the SACRED TWENTY-EIGHT pureblood houses that had dominated british politics for the better half of the last century . however , after the premature fall of voldemort during the second wizarding war , the political landscape in england began to change . fearing the mass scrutiny and insurmountable challenges that lay ahead for their bloodline after many of same were tried and sentenced to AZKABAN for their affiliation with the DEATH EATERS , petra was sent abroad at a young age to live in AMERICA with distant relatives and to be educated there .
! she began her education at ILVERMORNY , where she was sorted into house WAMPUS . during her time there , despite not being able escape her family’s legacy in america , petra still proved herself to be an exceptional student ; especially within the areas of DARK ARTS DEFENSE , MAGICAL GOVERNMENT , and CHARMS AND TRANSFIGURATION . during her final years at the school , she was appointed as a research assistant for her fields of proficiency , and graduated within the top ranks of her class .
! it doesn’t take long before she’s recommended by her professors to the MAGICAL CONGRESS OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA’S ( or MACUSA for short ) AUROR program . much like their sister governing organization in ENGLAND , an auror candidate must demonstrate a high level of mastery in at least five challenging subjects and must pass an extensive psychological evaluation before being admitted . once in , the intense and extensive nature of the program helps to weed out the rest . though no official numbers have been recorded , it is rumored that the auror program has roughly about a 75% attrition rate .
! it takes petra three years to complete the program , after which she’s assigned to the NEW YORK HEADQUARTERS to report for her first assignment . unlike their british counterparts , the american aurors had much more vast operating parameters . over the course of the past five years , petra's assignments have ranged from dark wizards and witches , common criminals , and most notably , hunting SCOURERS . since then , she’s established a reputation for being a ruthless ENFORCER and a terrifying INTERROGATOR .
! because of her continued encounters with the scourers , some of which could have been catastrophic if not handled correctly , petra develops a deep support for the reinstatement of RAPPAPORT’S LAW . fundamentally , petra is a staunch believer in the ideology that NO-MAJES and WIZARDKIND cannot coexist in harmony . if the former found out about the latter , it would sow fear and pandemonium among their people . after all , people fear that which they cannot understand , and that which they cannot understand , they seek to destroy . the ensuing chaos would cause an untold and frightening number of casualties on both sides .
! despite this , petra does not share her family’s traditional view of pureblood supremacy . petra neither despises the no-majes nor does she view those of non-magical bloodlines as her lesser . rather , she simply views the former as a more primitive species that needs to be guided towards an age of prosperity under the guidance of wizardkind . yes , much like the ideology of one GELLERT GRINDELWALD . in fact , the closest emotion that petra feels with regards to no-majes is PITY . until the wizarding community is ready to take up the mantle , petra believes that the two communities should be kept separate .
! after the assassination of KINGSLEY SHACKLEBOLT and HARRY POTTER , the MINISTRY OF MAGIC reached out to MACUSA for aid . in responding , MACUSA sent a number of aurors to aid the investigation of the murders and to help stabilize the ministry until they could get back on their feet . ( ENTER PETRA ) , one of the few aurors who’d been assigned to go abroad , into the present day where the story begins .
! she is currently aligned with NO ONE , though her loyalties are subject to change over time . please don’t hesitate to plot with this angry girl and help sway her towards any particular direction ! she needs friends ! thank you for coming to my ted talk .
#potterintro#( * intro )#( * macusa )#( * petraisms )#( * 𝖜𝖊'𝖑𝖑 𝖇𝖑𝖊𝖊𝖉 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖋𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖞𝖔𝖚 )#( * 𝖜𝖊'𝖑𝖑 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖎𝖙 𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖞𝖔𝖚 )
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Where Loyalty Lies
When shipments from a mining station suddenly stop, Lotor's generals look into the reason and get more questions than answers. At the same station several days earlier, the Blade of Marmora encounters a surprise when they try to take out the operation.
Chapter 5 (also available on AO3 under LovelyLessie!)
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Keith looks up when he hears footsteps, and Dazvar comes around the corner of the hall, pushing a guard along in front of him with the point of his blade. “Keith,” he says, and demasks to reveal a crooked smirk on his face. “I see your prisoner is awake.”
“She’s not really a prisoner,” Keith says, frowning. “Izan, this is Dazvar.”
“Oh, we are asking the prisoners their names?” Dazvar says, surprised. “I have not asked mine.”
“Varok,” Izan says. “Blade, perhaps you would remove your weapon from my colleague’s back?”
“You see?” Dazvar says. “You give her my name and she still calls me Blade. No manners.”
Keith decides he doesn’t know enough about what counts as manners among either the Blades or the imperial Galra to comment on that, so instead he just says, “I think you can put your blade away, he’s not exactly struggling.”
Dazvar shrugs and sheathes his blade.
“Have you heard from the others?” Keith asks, as the new guard - Varok - slowly relaxes.
“Not yet,” Dazvar says. “You think we should call them?”
“Give them a few more minutes,” Keith says. “Uh - dobashes.”
Dazvar sighs and leans back against the wall, surveying them, as Izan approaches Varok. “Are you alright?” she asks.
“Fine, Izan,” he assures her. “Is Vrani safe?”
“Go see her yourself,” Izan tells him, jerking her head at the door of the control room. “It’ll keep her out of trouble.”
Varok nods and turns to the door. Keith hesitates, but steps aside to let him in. As it opens, he hears Vrani inside call, “Are we leaving now? How long do I gotta…” before the door slides closed again.
“You already told the kit we are taking her?” Dazvar says. “Kolivan will not like that.”
“Well, he’s going to have to get over it,” Keith snaps. “She’s a kid, she’s already scared. I’m not gonna drag her away from her home without telling her what’s going on!”
Dazvar’s eyes go wide. “I apologize--”
Keith sighs, rubs his eyes with the heel of one hand. “No, I’m sorry,” he mutters, looking away. “You’re right, he’s gonna be mad, but I can handle that.”
“Dazvar,” Kolivan’s voice says over the comm, as if the mention of his name has summoned his response. “What is your status?”
“I have retrieved the remaining guard,” Dazvar says. “I am with Keith now.”
“Good,” Kolivan says. “We are returning with the rest of the crew.”
“Do you need support?” Dazvar asks, and laughs. “Two men is not many to bring back six prisoners.”
There’s a long pause before Kolivan says, with a sigh, “That won’t be necessary.”
“If you say so,” Dazvar replies, shrugging. “We will see you soon.”
Keith exhales slowly, leaning back against the wall himself. If Kolivan and Therlok are bringing back the others alone, they must have agreed to come willingly. That’s something. He’d really rather if Vrani didn’t have to see any of her family restrained or unconscious.
“Keith tells us you have kept this kit a secret?” Dazvar says, looking over at Izan. “The empire does not know of her?”
“No one outside of this base has ever known she was alive,” she confirms.
“You have been here - what, then, six decaphoebs?” he says. “How old is the child?”
“Nearly six, yes,” Izan replies, folding her arms. “We’ve been stationed here for close to eight.”
“Ah, so her father must also be here, yes?” Dazvar says. “I do not think the Empire allows its soldiers to be visited casually by mates who are not fighters.”
“Are all Blades so inquisitive?” she says coolly. “You ask a lot of questions.”
“No,” Dazvar says with a wicked grin. “Our organization is based on knowledge, there are others who are much worse.”
Keith snorts. “Was that supposed to be some kind of interrogation? Here I thought you were just making friends.”
“Make no mistake,” Izan says, narrowing her eyes. “We will come with you if we must, but regardless of what Vrani thinks, we are not your friends.”
“What, should she not make friends with other kits?” Dazvar says.
“I’m not a kit!” Keith protests, annoyed.
“How many decaphoebs are you, again?” Dazvar asks.
“I’m eighteen,” he says, which is probably not quite accurate, but close enough to count for this. “And even if that’s not grown up for Galra--”
Izan laughs. “Kittens her age think anyone taller is grown up, just like kittens your age think they are themselves. That doesn’t make either true.”
Keith glowers at both of them as Dazvar laughs, but he’s saved the trouble of finding a response by the sound of footsteps approaching in the corridor. Around the corner come the unarmored technicians, and then the armored guards, followed a few steps behind by Therlok and Kolivan.
“Oh,” says Izan, her eyes narrowing as Kolivan approaches. “You’re the leader.”
“I am,” Kolivan agrees, reaching for the hilt of his blade. “Keith tells me you are willing to come quietly. Is this true?”
“Do not threaten me,” she snaps. “I have kept the planetside base at bay for decaphoebs, knowing my life would be the price should they discover my deception. I am not afraid of you.”
Keith almost laughs as he sees Kolivan take a step back. “Your spirit is admirable,” he says. “The empire has made a mistake wasting it at this operation.”
“I’ve had no reason to set my ambitions higher,” she replies. “Unless you’re going to give me one?”
Keith stares at her, openmouthed, and looks around at the others as Kolivan studies her with great intensity. The tension in the air is so thick Keith feels like he can hardly breathe. “Are you implying,” Kolivan says slowly, “that you wish to join us?”
“I wish to be with my daughter,” Izan says. “All other things are secondary. If you mean to take us all together, then yes, I will come quietly.”
“All of you?” Kolivan repeats. “Our craft is not designed for such numbers. The kit and her family may come, no more.”
Several of the mining crew start to protest, but Izan’s raised voice silences them. “Everyone at this base is her family,” she snarls. “If you intend to separate us--”
“It is already more than our craft was built for to bring three of you,” Kolivan snaps back. “No more can be evacuated from the site. Which of these is the girl’s sire?”
“Ah, I--” one of the technicians begins.
“Shut up, Martek,” Izan hisses.
“The base is equipped with shuttles,” another says. “Why can’t we be taken elsewhere with those?”
“I cannot have you follow us to the location of any of our bases,” Kolivan snaps. “Should any one of you decide their loyalty to the Empire outweighs that you have to this child--”
“That will never happen,” Izan says. “Threnn is our commander, she has aided me in the deception since Vrani was born! Everyone here would die before letting any harm come to that child--”
“The Blade of Marmora cannot afford to trust that on your word alone,” Kolivan says. “Keith, retrieve the child, and let us leave this place.”
“What if I fly the shuttle?” Keith says instead. “Then the crew doesn’t have to know where the base is.”
“Therlok,” Kolivan says.
“Sir,” Therlok replies, reaching for his blade.
“Do you remember,” Kolivan says, with a very heavy sigh, “that once I could give a command and receive no argument?”
Dazvar chuckles at that. Keith shoots him a dirty look. “Look, if I fly the shuttle, everyone can come,” he points out. “That way we can stop arguing and actually go.”
“Fine,” Kolivan says. “Dazvar, Therlok, escort the crew to their quarters to retrieve their belongings. Keith, you will take the kit with you to the shuttle.”
“Got it,” Keith says, nodding and opens the door to the control room to retrieve her.
#fic: where loyalty lies#vld#vldfic#voltron#voltron legendary defender#vld keith#keith kogane#kolivan#vld kolivan#willwrites#belong to the sky verse
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Not scenario! But what do the members of bruno's gang think of each other?
Hello! :3 Ooooh, yes yes yessss!! I put it under the cut, since it came out a bit long!
Bruno has a great respect for Abbacchio. He knows the hell he had to face and is frankly amazed by his recover -which is not complete, but if compared to when he found him in the old shop where his previous life met its end, Abbacchio is improved greatly- and appreciates his opinions, when he cares to share. He admires Fugo too, for his great intelligence and his efforts to be a good person; knowing his backstory, Bruno knows he could have been a total monster, but instead he chose to isolate himself not hurt anyone else, not anymore. As for Abbacchio, Bruno respects a lot his opinion, since Fugo is way more educated than him and surely knows more things than him. Narancia is a sort of little brother/son, for him, he has to protect him from every danger. He loves Narancia as a big brother can love a little brother and he wants nothing more than helping him to get a good life, possibly far from mafia. Mista, even if at first Bruno has some doubts, fastly gained Bruno’s respect and affection. When he’s too stressed, Bruno usually go to spend some time in Mista’s presence, relaxing in the gunman’s company. Mista, if not put under stress, is usually calmness in person and emanates a quiet and serene aura that always helps Bruno to calm down. Giorno gained Bruno’s respect since their first encounter, but, even if Bruno admires him for his resolution, he’d want, as for Narancia, to keep him far from mafia: Giorno is just a young boy, he could have a normal life... but, since he’s not his father, he can’t impede him to do what he wants, and so, well, at this point it’s better to protect him as much as he can, even if now the old boss is not here anymore.
Abbacchio has found in Bruno what he missed in his life since his partner death, or maybe even since before that tragedy. He trusts Bruno with his life, he’d follow him to hell and back; he’s the man who saved him when he was at his lowest and he feels the need to be as supportive as he can, using his policeman instinct for him, firstly as a sort of way to repay him for his kindness, then because Bruno is actually is friend. He thinks that Fugo is way too young to be in a criminal organization and is slightly worried by his anger issues, fearing that one day he may actually attack them with Purple Haze in one of his famous anger bursts. Still, he sees how much he always tries to contain himself, how he tries to improve himself... and he admires him for that. He still keeps him under his attentive gaze, but now no more because he doesn’t trust him... more to protect Fugo himself from the guilt that would surely latch on him, after a violent outburst. He still thinks that Narancia is way too immature to stay in the gang, but he loves him like a brother loves his little sibling, he can’t help it. Abbacchio hasn’t siblings, but he felt a pull to protect Narancia the exact instant he saw him, even if, technically, Narancia is a “senior”. Even if Abbacchio never expressed vocally his affection, he showed it by taking his defences, sometimes, with Bruno or Fugo, or sliding to him a slice of his favourite dessert when the young boy had already finished his dish. He still thinks he should leave Passione to have a normal life, but, as long as he’ll stay in the gang, Abbacchio will protect him. In the beginning, he wasn’t absolutely convinced that Mista could have brought something good to the team. He seemed lazy, indolent, even too calm; just after a little Abbacchio understood that this was Mista way not to go crazy with life madness and that, in reality, he wasn’t either lazy or indolent, but a great worker and a prodigious gunman. He started to respect Mista and to see him a great ally and, also, a friend, as Mista, when he isn’t provoked, is a pretty chill guy who doesn’t bother him. About Giorno... it’s not that Abbacchio despises him. He just thinks he’s too young and too confident for that life. Too confidence could lead to death; he doesn’t want him in mafia basically for the same reasons he still doesn’t want Narancia or Fugo in the organization: they’re just teenagers who should go to school, instead of fighting for their life. He also saw Giorno’s more manipulative side and he didn’t like it, he didn’t like it even a bit. He doesn’t want him to drag his team into dust and dirt; still, he respects the loyalty and respect he shows especially towards Bruno. They’re not friends, but in future who knows.
Mista always respected Bruno. Even if the other man was just a little more than a couple of years older than him, he always seemed to know how to hold his ground and, especially, what he was doing. He gave Mista a feeling of safety and security; other than, he also gave him a second chance and never mocked him for his phobia for number four, all good points for Bruno. Fugo surprised him for his undoubtful intelligence, but especially for his lingering anger. Still, after a first tense start, he grew fond on the younger boy, assuming the role of a big brother, in a certain sense. The last thing he wanted was to see Fugo sink in an ocean of hatred. This role was more intense with Narancia, even if, at the start, he seemed not to trust a lot the gunman. Still, after a little time, the boy warmed up to him, to Mista’s happiness. Mista appreciates so much Narancia’s talent for certain things -such as dance- and never misses to encourage him! Mista was absolutely shocked to see Abbacchio in the gang as, when he was still “innocent”, he had seen Abbacchio as policeman, a couple of times -and you don’t forget easily about a goth policeman-. Someone else would have held a grudge towards him, since Mista has been arrested more times, but Mista is just himself and not someone else: if Abbacchio ended up in the gang, the exact opposite of what he believed once, something terrible must have happened. Mista gave him his friendship and comprehension, building with the older man a friendship made of mutual respect. The first thing Mista thought about Giorno was that the blonde was crazy as a horse. Even if he had a stand that had allowed him not to actually drink the “tea”, it still came in contact with his mouth!! But, at the same time, he admired his stubbornness and determination to be accepted in the gang. All in all, Giorno’s determination was something inspirational, for him.
Narancia’s idol is without doubt Bruno. Bruno has been the first one to get angry at him not to hurt him, physically or mentally, but to protect him from possible future horror. Even so, Narancia wanted to be like him, at any cost, and, to reach this goal, he had to join his gang. Bruno is the person he doesn’t want to disappoint or make angry the most, he’s the father-figure, a healthier and safer father-figure, anyway, that he always missed. Fugo is the second runner, after Bruno, on his personal hierarchy of people he doesn’t want to disappoint: he was so scared, when Fugo approached him, the first time, he thought he was here to beat him, as everyone always did; instead Fugo took him to his leader, thanks to Fugo he could eat a warm meal for the first time since ages, thanks to Fugo he could have been operated in time, thanks to Fugo he knew Bruno… he owes so much to Fugo. Fugo is his best friend, a sort of brother, even if they have a lot of quarrels and even if they are at each other’s throat. Mista, when he arrived, became, when he finally warmed up to him, his second brother. Mista didn’t get angry at him, he was always calm and chill… Narancia liked it a lot. Even if Mista pranked him, sometimes -more like a lot- Narancia never held a long grudge; plus, Mista always encouraged him in his passions, as dance, and Narancia always felt so appreciated and happy when it happened! Then, when Abbacchio, ex cop, joined the gang, Narancia was really wary at first, other then with an immense grudge -not towards specifically Abbacchio, but police in general-. Just after a good talk with him, about how corrupted the police is, Narancia finally managed to separate Abbacchio from the police and to see the man as who he was and not just as an ex-cop. After that, his opinion on Abbacchio changed for the better and he finally considered him as a friend. Giorno managed to pick his interest with the tea affair, but he didn’t trust him completely ‘till the unfortunate encounter with Squalo and Tiziano. After that, Narancia was inspired by Giorno’s determination and deemed him worthy of his trust and friendship.
The last thing that Fugo expected to arouse in Bruno was curiosity. Disgust, disapproval… he was used to it, but not to sincere curiosity. For the first time in his life, since his grandma’s death, Fugo didn’t feel useless or a scum of society. Bruno seemed to appreciate his intelligence and to not despise his anger. Bruno gave him the chance to grow in a safer surrounding -not that it took much for it-, to use that damn intelligence for someone else and not for himself, as he had done ‘till that moment. He offered him the chance to be… useful. Even when he was angry. Fugo appreciates the hell out Bruno, even if he thinks he’s, sometimes, too meek and tends to be influenced, but he’s here for advice him also against who may want to take advantage of him, after all. But the person Fugo cares the most in the world is Narancia. Narancia is his best friend, when he saved him Fugo felt… like he was doing something to make the world a better place. Narancia is such a good, honest boy, he knows it, he sees it, even when he thinks that the older boy is mocking him when he seems to not be able to do even the simplest math operations. Fugo knows that redemption and a normal life are impossible for him, now, but for Narancia? It’s still possible. And he would be damned if he doesn’t help him to achieve it! Even if this, during their tutoring sessions, may make one of his veins explode from anger. Speaking of anger, Mista is one who never gets really upset when Fugo is on rampage. Sometimes he’s mildly annoyed, but never actually enraged too. Fugo, in the beginning, found Mista’s view of life a bit simplistic, even a bit childish, but, growing up, he finally learned to enjoy the good, simple things of life, as Mista did, understanding that it wasn’t a wrong view, all in all. With Mista he has a sort of brotherly relationship, as the older boy, often, calls him out of his bullshits and enjoys spending time with Purple Haze’s user, especially if they start to talk about philosophical topics -Mista has a own philosophy that Fugo finds interesting- while drinking tea. Abbacchio is another one who gained Fugo’s appreciation and respect after a little while -as Narancia, Fugo too held a grudge towards policemen and public figures in general- but, when it happened, Fugo started to respect the hell out of him. He deeply trusts Abbacchio’s “cop sense” and the older man is always able to call him out of his nervous bullshits without having to deal with the physical consequences of Fugo’s anger. As for Mista, Fugo likes to talk with Abbacchio about various topics -as, with Fugo, is the better educated in the gang-. When Giorno entered for the first time the Libeccio, Fugo was wary, already analyzing the rookie. Of course if Bucciarati had took him here, this meant that the boy was already in Passione and that Polpo had accepted him, but this didn’t mean an automatic pass for the gang. More than the tea affair, the thing that Fugo appreciated was Giorno’s discretion about his stand: this told him that Giorno was a cautious boy and this would have been just good for the gang. Then, after Pompeii and the Man in the Mirror mess, Fugo found out that Giorno was more than just a cautious -and ambitious- boy, but also a brave -more reckless- and loyal teammate who had risked his life to follow a plan which sounded more than insane. Surely, Fugo learned to think out of schemes, from Giorno.
The first thing that Giorno noticed in Bruno, when they finally came to a good term after the first fight, has been his good heart. Bruno was an excellent fighter, he had perfect control on his Sticky Fingers, he was cunning and had a good heart. The last quality was what Giorno valued more, anyway; a good fighter and stand user was nothing if they were human scum. He never planned to see Bruno as a mentor, as a first positive -and actually present- mentor, but he became so and Giorno won’t ever be thankful enough for the help Bruno gave him, even if he didn’t even consciously acknowledged it, to emotionally grow up. Fugo striked Giorno with his amiability, as he had been the first among all the gang to talk to him in a normal way and not after a fight/mocking or suspicious words. Then he came to know also about the anger issues and the immense danger of Purple Haze, but this wasn’t enough to stop Giorno’s curiosity. Fugo was the mind of the gang, it was clear, and he valued intelligence and cleverness a lot, so he wanted to become his friend, to benefit too of his intelligence. Narancia didn’t make a great impression on Giorno, at first, as he thought that Narancia was too immature to be in a gang; he had to change his mind first after Narancia’s fight against Formaggio -and the fact that Narancia had survived showed that the boy was able to stand his ground even against a more expert stand user- and then after the fight against Tiziano and Squalo, when Giorno saw all Narancia’s pure determination. He and Aerosmith were invaluable allies and in the end Giorno came to appreciate also Narancia as a person, with his brightness and cheerfulness that seemed to make everything look better. Gold Experience’s user was surprised by the trust that Mista seemed to put in him, to the point to go against one of his teammates to stand at his side and actually go with him to Capri to take care of Sale. Giorno always found easy to interact with Mista, it came natural to him to do so; Mista was the first real friend he ever had and he valued his opinion more than everything else. Giorno always had an eye on Abbacchio, as his “cop sense” seemed to have sensed something off, in him. Giorno thought that Abbacchio knew somehow about his real plan -while Abbacchio was concerned about all the influence Giorno seemed to have on Bruno-, but since the older man never brought it up, he never worried too much. Still, he found annoying how Abbacchio always seemed to be against him and every opinion he had -even if, thinking again about it, Giorno recognized that more than one time Abbacchio’s protests had been reasonable- but he always hoped to change his mind, in a way or another. All in all, Abbacchio’s determination deeply struck him, when they were at Pompeii, and so he knew that the man had nothing more in mind that the safety of his team and Giorno appreciated a lot people who cared so much about their teammates.
#answer#anon#those who say hello are patooties#jjba#vento aureo#bruno's gang#bruno bucciarati#leone abbacchio#guido mista#narancia ghirga#pannacotta fugo#giorno giovanna#tricia's opinion#short hcs#gang's opinion on each other
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HPHM Profile: Seth Drystan
Thanks to @hogwartsmysterystory for the profile!
IDENTITY
Name: Seth Abraxas Drystan
Gender: Cisgender Male
Age: 15
Birth Date: 4/10/1973
Species: Wizard (Half-breed Werewolf)
Blood Status: Half-Blood (MuggleBorn)
Sexuality: Bisexual
Alignment: Lawful Evil
Ethnicity: English
Nationality: British
Residence: Bristol, UK
Myer Briggs Personality Type: ISTP - The Detective
THE MAGE
1st Wand: Hornbeam| Dragon Heartstring core | 12in length | Pliant
Hornbeam selects for its life mate the talented witch or wizard with a single, pure passion, which some might call obsession (though I prefer the term ‘vision’), which will almost always be realized. Hornbeam wands adapt more quickly than almost any other to their owner’s style of magic and will become so personalized, so quickly, that other people will find them extremely difficult to use even for the most simple of spells. Hornbeam wands likewise absorb their owner’s code of honor, whatever that might be, and will refuse to perform acts – whether for good or ill – that do not tally with their master’s principles. A particularly fine-tuned and sentient wand.
Dragon Heartstring: As a rule, dragon heartstrings produce wands with the most power, and which are capable of the most flamboyant spells. Dragon wands tend to learn more quickly than other types. While they can change allegiance if won from their original master, they always bond strongly with the current owner. The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord. It is also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental.
2nd Wand: Cedar | Rougarou Hair core | 10 ¾ in length | Supple
Whenever I meet one who carries a cedar wand, I find the strength of character and unusual loyalty. My father, Gervaise Ollivander, used always to say, ‘you will never fool the cedar carrier,’ and I agree: the cedar wand finds its perfect home where there is perspicacity and perception. I would go further than my father, however, in saying that I have never yet met the owner of a cedar wand whom I would care to cross, especially if harm is done to those of whom they are fond. The witch or wizard who is well-matched with cedar carries the potential to be a frightening adversary, which often comes as a shock to those who have thoughtlessly challenged them.
Rougarou hair: It was rumored to have an affinity for Dark magic, like vampires to blood.
Animagus: Asil Rooster
Misc Magical Abilities: Above average Legilimens but average at occlumency
Boggart Form: Himself fading into nothingness (being forgotten)
Riddikulus Form: A tap-dancing sparrow
Amortentia: It’s the scent of a blend of Mysore sandalwood, ambergris, violet leaves, French verbena & Florentine iris-translated into the following; the scent of smoke after a fire, woods in autumn, bittersweet chocolate
Amortentia: He smells laurels and orchid blossoms, the scent of parchment, and a faint hint of smoke mixing with iron. (Penny Haywood)
Patronus: Hippogriff
Patronus Memory: Asking Penny out on their first date and how much her eyes shone, smiling, as they danced.
Mirror of Erised: Being married to Penny whose 6 months pregnant with her second child, both of them happy as they hold the hands of their son.
Specialized/Favourite Spells: Impervius, Protego, Obscuro, & Finite Incantatem
APPEARANCE
Faceclaim: Gino Pasqualini
Game Appearance: (edited from a Slytherin chara, pretend his tie is red and gold)
Height: 5’9
Weight: 150
Physique: Mesomorphic
Eye Colour: grey eyes (C40 on 1998 eye color chart)
Hair Colour: Originally it was a dark red but a prank dyed it black.
Skin Tone: Ivory
Scars: Seth has 3 deep scars starting at his shoulders to his mid-back, he is self-conscious regarding them. He wears long sleeves due to some scarring on his forearms.
Inventory: Red-tinted glasses, a ring on either middle finger, and his lucky quill.
ALLEGIANCES
Hogwarts House: Gryffindor- current
Ilvermorny House: Wampus -former Organizations: Death Eaters and the Drystan family
Professions: Upon graduating-- Surveillor of Activity/ Investigator
HOGWARTS INFORMATION
Class Proficiencies:
Astronomy: ★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆
Charms: ★★★★★★★☆☆☆
DADA: ★★★★★★★★☆☆
Flying: ★★★★★★☆☆☆☆
Herbology: ★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆
History of Magic: ★★★☆☆☆☆☆
Potions: ★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆
Transfiguration: ★★★★★★★★☆☆
Electives:
Care Of Magical Creatures: ★★★★★☆☆☆☆☆
Divination: ★★★★☆☆☆☆☆☆
Quidditch: Member of the Audience (he failed the tryouts)
Extra-Curricular: Dueling Club & Potions Club
Favorite Professors:
Professor Sprout - Not only is she kind, warm-hearted, and gentle in her guidance, but she is genuine in her teachings. It is obvious that she cares about the subject. Her careful tending and motherly focus has made her a favorite teacher for Seth. He regards her as if she were a favorite aunt and heeds her guidance with the same respect.
Professor Flitwick- What he lacks in size, he makes him in his determination, heart, and ambition. Seeing that there was potential in Drystan, he motivated the Gryffindor towards success. Sure, his focus may seem a bit wavering at times, he means well. As he endeavors his students towards their personal best, he appreciates his sort of instruction.
Least Favourite Professors:
Professor Rakepick- Her teaching methods are a bit reckless and overambitious. She seems driven to prove something but he’d rather it not be at his expense.
Professor.Kettleburn- This instructor is a reckless idiot and he is amazed that he isn’t dead yet.
RELATIONSHIPS
Brother: Kain Daws Drystan | (17yo) 02/14/1971- Aquarius
He is proficient in nonverbal magic although he keeps this as a well-guarded secret
His distrust and blatant dislike of Seth are obvious in their interactions.
He aspires to be an Auror rather than a politician
Brother: Amos Jorah Drystan | (17 yo) 02/14/1971-Aquarius
He is aware of Seth’s conflicted orientation but has, in a roundabout way, offered support and understanding
Desiring to be a professional philosopher, Amos delves into its study. Get too close and you’ll become the subject for evaluation
As a secret arsonist, he is responsible for setting fire to the small shed when they were children. Seth has yet to forgive him and isn’t sure if he ever will.
Adoptive Father: Judas Irah Drystan | (41 yo) 10/15/1947 -Pisces
Hogwarts Alumni: Ravenclaw
Is involved in the political agenda of the ministry though such details are kept secret
He is a polyglot: English, Spanish, Russian, and Danish.
Biological Father: Kaizer James Messere | (43 yo) 03/18/1945 -Pisces
Yale Alumni- operating as a prosecuting attorney
Taxidermy hobbyist
He is aware of the magical community and is envious (Squib)
Biological Mother: Moriah Eden Drystan| (38yo) 09/18/1948 - Virgo
She is a Stanford University Alumni (yes, she’s a muggle)
While her wedding may have been a shotgun wedding, she always loved him and continues to do so.
She is a werewolf having been turned when she was only nineteen
Adoptive Mother: Liesl Nicola Wilde| (38yo) 06/22/1948 - Cancer
Ilvermorny: Horned Serpent Alumni
She adores the performing arts and is obsessed with quidditch
She has only been married for ten years but she’s close to calling it quits
Love Interest: Penny Haywood
Best Friends:
Rowan Khanna
Andre Egwu
Charlie Weasley
Rival:
Laurent King
Diego Caplan
Enemy: Hector Silva, Samuel Gabehart
Dormmates:
Hector Silva
Adrien Reyes
TBA
Pets: Hoodini- Female Barn Owl
Closest Canon Friends:
Rowan Khana
Bill Weasley
Hagrid
Murphy McNully
Closest MC Friends:
Dahlia Goldman
TBA
TBA
BACKGROUND/HISTORY
Seth was only two years old when his family life erupted into chaos. It was during a family outing to stargaze when Moriah’s new reality began to set in. As her limbs contorted in pain, Kaizer grabbed his toddler and ran to the car. There they waited out the gruesome terror until Moriah was herself once more. Fearing what this would mean, Kaizer devised a plan to fake Moriah’s death. As his finances began to spiral out of grief, he was forced to give Seth up for adoption. The result was the placement in his uncle’s house.
At the age of twelve, he began to feel a similar attraction to boys as he does with girls. It was slight confusion but he paid no attention to it. It wasn’t until a few months later when he began to develop a crush on his best friend that he realized something might be ‘wrong’ with him. He took a risk with his friend and found such affections returned. However, this wasn’t to be a happy occasion as his father beat him severely upon finding out.
He has dated Corbyn Reyes (ages 14 and 15, respectfully). This only lasted for 3 months as their personalities continued to clash. It was intense, explosive and with a force of wills to match. It didn’t help that they didn’t share similar moral values or understand each other’s signs of affection. They broke up on hostile terms.
The drama involving the Silva’s and Drystan’s have been carried down through the centuries with most of it being forgotten by the Silva’s. The Drystan’s, however, maintain that this feud was the result of Silva greed and impotence. No one really knows the story. With the somewhat-recent history involving the Silvas, the members of the Drystan family are assured in their ascension to surpass them; as is their right.
PERSONALITY
Charismatic: Sociable and somewhat understanding, Seth prides himself on the ability to win over almost anyone. It helps that he can read a person generally well.
Condescending. This is a part of his arrogance as he tends to talk down to those who he believes to be inferior to himself. This is obvious in his actions but, more often, it is evident in his manner of speech.
Diplomatic: This comes from being raised by a politician. He is sensitive (only to matters that counts) and is able to deal with the general public effectively and efficiently. This is provided nothing bigoted leaves his mouth.
Hedonistic: The finer things in life were made for him. Check the receipt. He was created for a lavish lifestyle. It may be a weakness but he’s fine with that.
Prejudiced: Muggle-borns and werewolves. There are probably more but these are the most common. He isn’t a fan of half-breed creatures and considers them to be revolting.
MISC
Likes: Potions, Dueling, Whittling, Astronomy, and cats
Dislikes: being surprised, pranks, indecisiveness, and windchimes
Hobbies: Playing the violin, wizarding chess, gardening, and dueling
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14 + 26: Characters of your choosing.
Thank you! (I assume these 2 messages went together sdkhasd)
SO: Massage fic + bodyguard au
I CHOSE TOMURA X READER bc if I'm being told to feel better soon why not try and feel better with self indulgence. Revelry in Decadence. Hope u like this. ore bodyguard than massage, but,, yes. :3c
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You couldn't believe you were being let into the Paranormal Liberation Front! Well, okay. You could, because they were fairly lax with their new members and you'd signed up because certain jobs had pay, as in, cold hard cash, and you needed cash; you weren't really one for cults or big groups- they made you nervous, but hey, money was money.
No, what was unbelievable was the position you were in now.
So you had been born lucky, right? Your quirk was strong, you'd always been praised for it. You could make people faint with eye contact. You could've gotten a job somewhere less shady easily if you didn't have a criminal record. But here they apparently didn’t care about that kind of thing, and appreciated your quirk, maybe too much...You'd planned on making a quick buck and leaving, but that idea was quickly slipping out of sight.
You were told you would be Tomura Shigaraki's bodyguard.
Yeah, that Tomura Shigaraki. Kidnap hero kids, jump off a moving truck, fight a whole city Shigaraki. You'd heard his little..speech? If it could be called that, earlier, standing to the side of the crowd. You had barely been able to see him from where you had been, and you expected to never get closer.
Ah.
Well.
You were wrong.
"I-I'm hardly qualified. I mean, he took down the big guys under you, didn't he? I wouldn't be better at defending him than he already is-"
"Nonsense! Your quirk is well suited for this. He's undergoing a few procedures for the next few months and will be unable to do much. And you've shown loyalty to us plenty!" Normally you'd be stunned the CEO of Detnerat Co. was talking to you, but mostly you were stunned about the fact you were in a room with him and Tomura freakin' Shigaraki and a doctor you didn't recognize. The doctor was shuffling around, muttering to himself. Tomura was sitting on a medical table, swinging his feet.
"This is who you hand picked? What kind of quirk do they have? Show me."
You hesitated, eyes staying firmly on the ground. "I wouldn't want to, erm, hurt anyone-"
"Is it non-lethal? Use it on Re-Destro."
“Sure go ahead!”
The businessman sounded sure, so you looked in his eyes and he fainted. His head made an unsettling noise when it hit the linoleum floor.
"He'll be out a few minutes. Usually it only lasts around ten at most." You fidgeted. "Should I have gotten a pillow?"
Shigaraki snorted. "He's survived worse." 'From me.' Was the unspoken. "How does it work?"
"I just have to make eye contact."
"You can't turn it off."
"No. But I've gotten really good at staring at my own feet."
“Sunglasses?”
“No, sir, I haven’t found any that work.”
He was staring at you pretty intensely now. You could feel him from your peripherals. You had gotten really good at ignoring people staring, but you really wanted to know what kind of look he was giving you. After a few more tense seconds, he spoke.
“You must have good control then. You’re hired.”
You were so surprised you slipped up and looked at him with wide eyes, and oh god, oh fuck.
The first day of your new job started with you making your boss faint.
________________________________________________________________
The first week brought a schedule for you: first thing, you woke up and showered and ate- about fifteen minutes worth of blissful alone time at the base before you headed to the medical bay, standing outside the door. Shigaraki kept a weird schedule that his naggy doctor insisted was unhealthy, so he was up early too, complaining about that, and reminding you every time he passed through the door that he still had a lump from your quirk. You would stare at your feet the first few days, bright red and praying he wouldn’t fire or kill you for it, but he seemed to be joking, so after the first few days you tested the waters and teased back, sticking your tongue out at him.
“Oh, Medusa has a sense of humor after all.” You looked at his crutches; they’d been decorated with stickers and scribbled on with markers, several different signatures. You’d thought people were supposed to sign casts and not crutches, but you didn’t say that; the original league stopped by enough that you could guess they were behind it, and almost guess whos handwriting was whos.
“Medusa?” You crossed your arms. “Is that my official code name now, sir? I don’t have snake hair, unless something’s changed since the last time I’ve looked in the mirror.”
“Can you even look in a mirror? Won’t you faint?” Oh, and you’d heard that one at least a million times. You huffed, rolling your eyes. The come back came easily, in the same tone he’d used.
“Can you even jerk off? Won’t it disintegrate?” And, oh, hello foot, nice to see you in mouth. You had never been so glad you couldn’t look at people, because you did not want to see that glare, no, noooo thank you. You had this horrible tendency to not think before speaking, and it was going to get you killed for sure. Except he was snorting, not killing you, so, yay?
He didn’t answer you though, and you were left alone in the hall to wonder, your only solace was that he was maybe wondering about you, too.
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“Y’know, it won’t do much good if someone decides to attack and you can’t see if it’s a friendly or not.”
“A friendly won’t be shooting or using their quirk on me. Also, all your friends greet me, I know who’s shoes to look for.”
“Medusa is popular now, huh.”
You had been employed a little over a month now, and had gotten into a nice groove of standing against a wall, staring at the floor for several hours at a time. You’d gotten really good at daydreaming, and had several stories running in your brain at any given time, plots interlinking. Heck, you could quit this villain bodyguard stuff and start a podcast or something, those were popular right? Probably wouldn’t pay as well, but passion projects rarely did.
“I guess. Hey, when do you eat?”
“What?”
“I mean, I don’t get a lunch hour. Not complaining, but do you get to eat in there?” Actually, you had no idea what sort of ‘procedures’ he was undergoing; he always came back with more bandages, limping and sometimes even in a wheelchair. Some days seemed easier than others, sometimes he’d come out of that room hours later than expected, not even bothering with banter, and you were most concerned those days.
You were concerned in a professional way, of course, because he was your boss, even if he was young and fun to talk to, and it never ever bordered on flirting, not even if his voice was nice and a little hot-
You cut that train of thought short.
“I have food.” He confirmed. “You don’t eat at all during the day?”
“I have breakfast and dinner sometimes, but-”
“Come eat with me today.”
You blinked. “Doesn’t that defeat the point of a body guard? I’m suppose to stay out here?”
“Who’s the boss exactly?”
You shrugged, following him in. Hey, couldn’t argue with that. Also, you couldn’t argue with free food. It wasn’t even hospital food, it was like, good food! You could feel his eyes on you because you were kinda pigging out, but free was free!
“So long as you’re with me it should be fine.”
“Mfm?” Your mouth was still full of food, so the question came out muffled, but he humored you.
“I’m saying you should eat lunch in here, at least. The doctor is out for a while around this time anyway.”
“I thought you were the boss, why does it matter if he’s out?”
“It’s not like I know anything about this medical crap.” you looked around the room, unable to parse what any of the equipment did either. “I need his help, so…”
“Oh.” You knew asking what they were doing might be pushing the lines of how much he was willing to give, so you stared at the wall behind him. It was hard to not let your eyes drift towards him. Only seeing his torso and below was driving you a little crazy, and it wasn’t like you were totally oblivious to your own feelings, but still; he was your boss and that was definitely an inappropriate crush to let develop. “I probably shouldn’t eat in here then, huh?”
“You won’t? You don’t want to?”
“I.. shouldn’t.”
You could hear his chair scrape against the floor, and your breath hitched when his hand was on the table in front of you.
“I want you to. Didn’t you just remind me I’m the boss?” And he was crouching beside you, so quickly that you had to turn your head. He was inches away, so close you could feel his body heat. “Well? Or are you going to make me go stand in the hall with you to eat every day?”
“So gentlemanly,” You murmured softly, your voice catching in your throat. “Asking me to lunch. I guess if I don’t have a choice, sir.”
“Is it such a chore for you? Do you hate me that much?” There was a teasing tone to his voice; you wouldn’t figure out until later what he was really asking.
_______________________________________________________________
So, professionalism had totally been thrown out the window, kicked to the curb, and given the boot. You were originally supposed to ‘guard’ the room where he was vulnerable due to...’operations’, but you were eating with him, and following behind him to meetings. ‘Just in case’, he’d said, but you wondered. And it made you weirdly proud, to know you were wanted by someone so important to the whole organization.
Or, maybe you’d been properly brainwashed into a cult. This was how people became stupidly devoted to the cause. You weren’t going to slip down that slope, or at least that’s what you’d thought, but…
Someone interloped into the meetings and pulled out a gun. It was a bad day for Tomura, he was already snappy and heavily bandaged, so it was your first time getting to defend him. And you hadn’t even hesitated.
You caught a bullet in your shoulder, but managed to look the guy in the eyes, and he dropped like a fly. Four villains were on him instantly, but your breath was still ragged, clutching your shoulder and eyes darting around wildly. Assessing threats, putting yourself in front of your boss.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“My job. Sit down.” You were surprised to hear your own voice come out so stern. “We need to get you out of here.”
“I can-”
“What, fight? You can barely walk today, and I was hired for a reason. Let me do my job, sir.”
He actually shut up- you were amazed.
You got him to the med bay, both of you slow, him because he was covered in bandages, and you because there was a bullet in your arm.
“I want you to look at me.”
“You know I can’t-”
“It just can’t be eye contact, right? I’m not looking at you, so…”
You looked at him, and you didn’t find the cold eyes of a villain, but warm red eyes that were full of concern, pointed firmly at the wall. He was beautiful. You, selfishly, didn’t want to stop looking, even if it meant him fainting and you bleeding out.
“I wanted to look at you, too.” You let your eyes drift back to your lap. “So what’re we going to do about your quirk? I can’t be the only one hating my quirk right now,” You let your hand drift to his, resting it right on top of it. You had your suspicions, but you wanted to hear it from him; you wanted to know he was going as crazy as you were.
“You have a bullet wound.” He said in a deadpan voice, and you were laughing again.
________________________________________________________________
So you’d healed up nicely, a few weeks had past…
And you hadn’t heard from Tomura. You’d shown up one day, and the doctor had waved you off, saying Shigaraki would ‘be under’ for a few weeks. You had demanded to know what that meant, and the doctor had asked in a very condescending tone if you had clearance to know that.
Hmfph. You should have if you didn’t already!
So you loitered around. The paychecks hadn’t stopped, even if you weren’t really doing anything important. Sometimes you’d wander to the loading docks where the trucks dropped off supplies and would help unload, just to keep busy with something, anything to distract you.
Then, one day, you got a notice you were to be at your post the next day and actually made a very loud, high pitched noise. You could’ve sworn it set off a nearby pack of dogs.
You didn’t even wait until the next day, you practically sprinted to the med bay.
“Tomura!”
“Don’t come in here yelling, Medusa.”
“I wanted to see you.” You whined. You wanted to see above his arms, actually; they looked more rough than usual; he was still in a medical gown, barefoot on the medical bed.
“Well, I want to touch you.” He snapped.
Oh. You sucked in a breath.
He finally admitted it.
“Are you on drugs?”
“What?”
“Like, uh, hospital drugs- like- the ones that make you loopy-”
“I’m coming off them,” He admitted. “But I’m not lying.”
“Sure, okay.” You took a breath. “So how about this? You- you look at me all you want since I can’t look at you, and I’ll touch you since you can’t touch me. I’ll be your touch if you’ll be my sight?”
Was that too forward? No taking it back now, but-
“Deal, starting now.” He didn’t even hesitate.
“Now…?”
“Yeah. I’ve been unconscious for weeks, I’m pretty cramped up.”
Oh, of course. Yeah. Obviously.
You settled behind him, letting your fingers drift over his shoulders. His bare shoulders. You started to untie the gown, letting it drop to his lap. Modesty was out the window along with that professionalism.
“To be honest, I’ve been looking at you since you got hired. So I’ve already got a head start on this ‘deal’, you owe me a lot of touches.”
“Is that so?” You kneaded your fingers into his back, letting one hand roam to his neck and drift over it, brushing his hair over his neck as you went, slowly. He actually shivered.
“I don’t let a lot of people this close.” He admitted. “I hate pretty much everyone, but you…”
“You seem pretty sweet on your league. Not that paranormal whatever, but the guys who always bug you and hang around.”
“It’s different.” He leaned into your touch. “Different with you…”
“You’re so high right now.”
“I’m so sore. You have no idea what I’ve been through lately.” He sighed. “It’s done, though.”
“Hm? What is?”
“The operation was a success. Once I recover, I won’t need a bodyguard.” You paused only for a moment before twisting your thumb into his spine, and he let out a hiss.
“Don’t fire me, I got shot for you.”
“Well I know you’re no good at massages; what could I keep you around for?”
“Oh, you poor thing.” You leaned forward, letting your lips linger at his ear. “You think massages are the only type of ‘touch’?”
“...I’m giving you a raise.” He declared, and you laughed. Maybe you’d stick around regardless of money; you were having fun, and Tomura Shigaraki, yeah, that Tomura Shigaraki? The one that had totally seduced you into a cult? Well...
“Okay, I guess I don’t hate you either.” You confirmed, and his hum told you that was the right answer.
#anyone else .......miss the lov.....and Him...#i dont want to see ugly endeav*r anymore can i see my babies.....lmao#sorry for typos! i typed literally 90% of this on mobile on my lunch break JASKFHKJ#i dont have friends 2 sit with so i sit with my fanfics. ok#sanchoyowrites#bnha fic#this mc is More Spicy than watergun mc from warm healer......for the sake of this not being a 20 chapter fic dsfsadf#sanchoyoanswersasks#Anonymous
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Epilogue -- The Record Set Straight
[Missed earlier chapters? Go catch up here! Otherwise, welcome back! Oh, and make sure to join our discord server! Chapter can also be found @ ao3.” This update concludes “Ariadne Lives!” and I thank you for coming along on this journey with me!]
Some Time Later
“People of our fine system,” said Ariadne, the real Ariadne, on the video that had been practically looping on every news station for the past month, “My name is Ariadne, the dread pirate, and this is my confession.”
“By now you will have heard about the mass suicide of the Red God cult on Mars. This is a lie. You see, the Red God cult you saw was a front for something far more sinister. They were a paramilitary organization run by a disgraced lunatic named Dr. C. Alexander Simon, trying to use science and technology to create a fascist state of mind-controlled drones, with himself as its immortal leader. He thought that free will was something that needed to be cured, and that humanity would prosper if individual human beings were made incapable of behaving outside his warped morality framework. He brainwashed your friends and loved ones, and used the promise of the fabled Ariadne to bring in new ‘converts.’ But, he made two mistakes:
First, he didn’t expect for there to be a real Ariadne. Now, I know a lot of you thought I was an urban legend, and I was okay with letting you think that, after all, it’s hard to catch someone nobody’s really sure actually exists, but I take great pride in being a folk hero and I couldn’t have some impostor ruining my good name, which brings me to mistake #2:
That cult brainwashed and abused children, and when I found out about that, I knew something had to be done. That’s why my crew stormed their fortress, rescued the children, and slaughtered their abusers. Every single member of their organization who acted of their own free will is now dead. Dr. Simon is now dead.
Anyone who had friends or relatives fall victim to their mind control, you have been tricked into believing your loved ones are dead as well. Go ahead and cancel the funeral. Even if you’ve seen a body, they’re alive, and they miss you very much, and as soon as we are able, they will be returned to you, although… don’t be surprised if they seem a little more, shall we say, mechanical at first.
Meantime, I advise you not to waste your time trying to catch me. I’ll be doing what I always do, taking from people who have too much and giving to people who don’t have enough, until the day I die, and the only person in the universe good enough to stop me is fighting by my side. The only difference now is that you know I’m real, that I’m watching, and most importantly, you know what I’m capable of if I find out you’ve laid a hand on a child.
Bye now!” Ariadne waved and the face flickered away, a gruff looking white news anchor with a gray mustache taking her place.
“That was, once again, the video of the alleged fabled pirate Ariadne, claiming responsibility for the recent deaths of several hundred cultists and assuring the public that their recently deceased relatives will be returning from the grave. Now, Leanne, does that sound possible to you? Sounds awfully far fetched to me.”
The hologram panned out to reveal a second reporter, one possibly too attractive to be remarkable. “Well Jim, I thought so too, but we have been getting reports of relatives taken in by the Red God cult years ago suddenly returning home. NewMo News 7’s own Solomon Cho has returned unharmed after disappearing a few months ago while investigating the group. Solomon, what can you tell us about what happened to you?”
The hologram suddenly switched off. “I said, no news,” Flax insisted as she approached the poolside with a tray of recently grilled cheeseburgers. “Aren’t you sick of your own voice by now?”
Ariadne laughed. “How else am I supposed to see my normal face?” Truly, Alicia had done an amazing job, with only a new pair of glasses and a specialized hair growth formula she and Sasha had developed together, Ariadne now had much longer hair, which Alicia was currently braiding into cornrows.
“I’m surprised you aren’t sick of that, too.” Flax said. “You’re not going to swim for an hour after eating that, right?”
There was, at this point, a large splash in the pool as Sweettalk was knocked underwater by Spacebreather.
“Best three out of five!” Sweettalk shouted when she resurfaced. “You have an unfair advantage, she’s like, freakishly strong.”
“Look, I can play chicken as long as you can,” Pilar replied from atop Beam’s shoulders, “but I’m going to tell you right now, the Spacebreathers can’t be beat at chicken.”
“Don’t worry,” Sasha said very seriously, allowing Sweettalk to get on her shoulders again, “I have a plan for this one.”
“What kind of plan?” Sweettalk replied.
“I’m not going to fall down and you’re going to push harder than her.”
“That’s… really not a plan, you’re just… describing how the game is played.” Sweettalk said.
“Yeah,” Sasha responded just as seriously, “do that this time.”
Baltimore sat down next to Ariadne and Alicia. “Beam!” She called, “If you don’t win, we’re getting a divorce!”
“You already know I’m going to win!” Beam called back.
“Yeah!” Baltimore said, “Look, some of us weren’t cheerleaders in high school, this sort of thing is more your strong suit!”
“I’m glad they worked things out,” Alicia said to Baltimore, “I mean, a rift between sisters, we know that’s not the easiest thing to repair.”
“I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about,” Baltimore replied. “I wasn’t there for, like, any of what happened.”
“I mean, when I came back, it took a while to win that trust back. That’s why I call every day, you know?”
Baltimore burst out laughing. “You are too stupid, you know that?”
“What?!” Alicia said, accidentally yanking a few of Ariadne’s hairs out.
“Ow!” Ariadne jumped in.
“Sorry sweetie, you gotta keep your head still while I’m doing this.” Alicia replied. “I’m stupid for what, calling you up?”
“No, dummy, I was really just glad to have you back. Once I found out where you’d gone I pretty much forgave you right away.”
“Well,” Alicia looked confused, “I still think I gave pretty good advice.”
“You definitely did, Baltimore’s Sister.” Ariadne said through a mouthful of burger.
Baltimore laughed and gave Alicia a friendly punch on the arm.
“Ey Beam!” Baltimore shouted, “Just drop her in the pool and come get a burger already, I miss your face!”
“Do not drop m--” Pilar said plainly as she was dropped directly into the water. Baltimore was waiting for Beam with a towel when she got out of the pool, and greeted her with a tender kiss.
“Hey,” Beam said as flirtily as she could, “where’s my burger.”
“Ugh,” Baltimore said, “you ruined a good moment.”
Beam considered this. “It would all be worth it if I had a burger, though.”
Baltimore rolled her eyes, handed Beam a burger on a paper plate, kissed her again, and said “I’m gonna go check on the kids.”
“I’m getting a burger too,” Alicia said, “do not move your head while I’m gone. I’ll know if you moved your head.”
“So,” Sweettalk swam up to the edge with Sasha loosely hanging her arms around her neck and drifting behind her, as Pilar got out of the pool and dried off, “your friends seem to have a really happy life here.”
“They really do,” Ariadne replied, “they deserve it, and I’m glad they have it, but I’m not gonna lie, I could never do this.”
Pilar sat down next to Ariadne and quietly stole a bite of her burger, instead of walking ten feet to get her own. “Me neither,” said Pilar with the bite of stolen burger still in her mouth.
“You know what they say,” Ariadne mused, “do what you love and love what you do.”
“And love who you do it with,” Pilar added.
“Yes, that too,” Ariadne nodded, “and I’m just more cut out for the life I’ve got. I love what I do, I love who I do it with.”
“You don’t ever get tired of it?” Sweettalk asked.
“Sometimes,” Ariadne replied, “but it wears off pretty quick. I mean, I could never stop. What I believe in is that the good people are supposed to be rewarded and the bad people are supposed to be punished, and nobody seems to get what they deserve unless somebody gives it to them. So, until the universe starts doing its job, I’m gonna keep fixing things for good people and breaking them for bad people.”
“Yo ho,” Pilar agreed. Ariadne saw Baltimore and Beam come out of the house, each carrying one very sleepy-looking toddler, both of whom were far too young to swim and had inflatable floaties on their arms seemingly just for decoration, and they sat down in the shade and began feeding the babies, and each other, french fries.
“Good people always get tired of being good, but bad people never seem to get tired of being bad,” Ariadne thought, lying back on the soft towel behind her, “so, that’s what I want out of life. That’s the kind of person I need to be. I want a good person’s compassion with a bad person’s patience. Keep doing good even when it’s easier to do bad, and try my best to make the bad people feel as tired as I am.”
Ariadne took in the warm, gentle rays of the sun, surrounded by the people she loved most in the universe. At her side was the woman she knew she would spend the rest of her life with, whether that was one day or a hundred years, who she could only hope understood the depth and passion with which she was loved.
A few feet away were two girls who’d known some of the deepest tragedies a child could know, who’d grown up to be the sweetest, kindest, most intelligent young women the system had ever seen.
Standing at the grill was the first authority figure she’d ever truly respected, handing a burger to someone who’d devoted her life to Ariadne’s crew just because she believed in the cause, whose patience and unfailing loyalty had meant everything to Ariadne in the years they’d known each other, and at a small table in the shade were two women who’d become like sisters to Ariadne, who showed her how intensely two people could love one another, whose marriage she had officiated and whose children she loved as though they were her own.
Right then, she could have combined all the misery she’d experienced in her entire life and it would still only be the smallest fraction of the joy she was feeling at that particular moment.
The universe can be a good place, she thought, and if I’ve got anything to say about it, it’s damn sure going to be.
THE END.
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Hogwarts Houses: Brooklyn Nine-Nine Edition
Or, what would happen if someone decided to put me in charge of the Sorting of our favorite detective squad.
JAKE PERALTA: GRYFFINDOR
While Jake’s greatest strength is his problem-solving skills, he yearns for a chance to prove himself a hero. He’s never afraid to stand up for what is right but has a tendency to be a little reckless when he’s trying to help others. Although he’s not very ambitious in the traditional sense – he hasn’t shown any wish to rise up the ranks of the NYPD, for example – he does feel the need to prove himself the best detective with every case, and this sometimes puts him at odds with the others. At the same time, he’s always quick to apologize when he realizes he’s done something wrong, and it’s clear that he only acts with the best of intentions.
CHARLES BOYLE: HUFFLEPUFF
Possibly the most loyal member of the squad, Charles will do anything to help others, even if it means sacrificing some of his dignity. He’s not the most gifted detective, but he makes up for it with sheer hard work. He always thinks the best of people, even when all signs point otherwise, and is genuinely one of the kindest detectives in the precinct.
TERRY JEFFORDS: HUFFLEPUFF
As a lieutenant, Terry is in a higher position of power than most of the other members of the squad, but leadership is not something that comes easily to him – no, he has worked incredibly hard to get to where he is today, and is always grateful for having the support of his friends and family as he made that journey. He’s incredibly thorough and always tries to see both sides of any issue before passing any judgment. Despite being a cop, Terry has a clear tendency to protect instead of fight. While he may not exude confidence, he conducts a huge amount of respect from his detectives because he always treats them with the respect they deserve.
RAYMOND HOLT: SLYTHERIN
Captain Holt has also worked incredibly hard to get to where he is, from which he has gained a lot of (well-earned) pride for his accomplishments as a highly-decorated black and openly-gay police officer. Holt’s greatest asset in the field is his intuition and intellect, and he knows it. He’s also incredibly ambitious, having aims as high as Police Commissioner from childhood. Because of what he went through in his early days as a cop, Holt has a tendency to overreact (and rightfully so) when his or any of his detective’s reputation is being questioned, and this loyalty makes him an incredibly strong ally to have.
GINA LINETTI: SLYTHERIN
Gina is very confident, self-assured, and has proven herself unafraid of, well, almost anything. In the few instances where she has been scared, she still refuses to show it, leaving it up to her friends to deduce what she is really feeling. Sometimes, her overconfidence gets in the way of her relationships with others, although she does her best to make it up to the other person when she’s made aware of the fact. Working as a secretary in a precinct full of cops, Gina’s characteristic sarcasm and wit ensure that she’s considered equal to the others, despite her lack of a badge or gun. When the time came for her to move on to other things in her career, she needed a push from others in order to take that step, but it wasn’t out of fear – no, it was out of the loyalty she felt to her friends and coworkers, who believed in her enough to encourage her unique talents in the first place.
ROSA DIAZ: RAVENCLAW
One of Rosa’s major character traits (and the reason people are terrified of her) is that she doesn’t tolerate (what she considers to be) stupidity very well; in fact, she’s only ever shown to lose her temper with someone else if they made a careless mistake. Along those same lines, she tends to get irritated whenever she can’t complete a task on her own or if something doesn’t work the way she wants it to, and she often comes up with elaborate workarounds to problems at hand. In addition, the fact that she’s gone to school for a variety of professions (business, medicine, etc) out of sheer interest in learning something new suggests that although she’s a natural cop with respect to the physical prowess/courage/bravery required for the job, she’s actually drawn to police work because of the problem-solving skills and intelligence necessary to do it well; it is this trait that makes her one of the best detectives in the precinct.
AMY SANTIAGO: GRYFFINDOR
Amy is extremely difficult to place, but that’s not for lack of trying.
We could talk about her bravery, confidence, and excellent leadership skills, and how her glaring similarities to Hermione and Lily Evans make Gryffindor a good choice. Or perhaps how she has traits that would place her neatly in Hufflepuff – she’s incredibly thorough, methodical, organized, and efficient with everything, and what she lacks in natural talent she more than makes up with the amount of work she puts into and the dedication that she has for her job. She dislikes making mistakes; however, it’s not because she hates being wrong, but because she doesn’t want to disappoint those counting on her.
We could also go the obvious route and place Amy in Ravenclaw – her high academic achievement, intelligence, and quick-thinking are some of her best assets. She enjoys crosswords and math problems and relishes any chance to exercise her brain. Another easy choice would be to place her in Slytherin – Amy is extremely confident in herself and her abilities, and her ambition is one of the major driving forces behind why she works as hard as she does: she’s very clear in what she wants to achieve and how she wants to get there.
But we also cannot ignore the fact that she simply isn’t daring or impulsive, that her ambition and intense competitive streak sometimes make her come across as unkind or unempathetic, that she enjoys the mundaneness of paperwork and finds as much beauty in bureaucracy as she does in brain-teasers, that for all her hopes and dreams, she rarely does anything with the sole intent of maintaining her reputation.
So it all boils down to what she values, not what she is. After all, if we simply went by character traits, Hermione could be a Ravenclaw, Harry a Slytherin, and Ron a Hufflepuff; there would be a good case for Jake to be in Hufflepuff and Rosa in Slytherin. It’s not about that, though – it’s about what drives people to do what they do, how they react in times of crisis, and the things that they look for in people they trust.
And the fact is this: yes, she hates making mistakes, she wants a stellar resume, and she sucks-up to her superiors so she’ll get good recommendations when she needs them, but when she has to make a split-second decision between risking her career to help someone else and trying to solve the problem methodically and without getting into trouble, she’ll almost always choose the former, regardless of whether or not it’s the wisest choice. And for that reason, she would be a Gryffindor.
HITCHCOCK AND SCULLY: SLYTHERIN
Despite their reputation as being lazy and unambitious, Hitchcock and Scully are always willing to do anything they are asked to, whether it’s choosing the softest chairs for a wedding or reverse-engineering incomprehensible texts, if it means that they or the squad as a whole will benefit from it. When they were in their prime, they were the best detectives in the precinct, which indicates both natural intelligence and leadership skills. They are very competitive and proud of the things that they are good at, so much so that they never back down when their talents are challenged.
#happy september 1!#hogwarts express#brooklyn nine nine#b99 squad#c: jake peralta#c: amy santiago#c: rosa diaz#c: raymond holt#c: norm scully#c: michael hitchcock#c: gina linetti#c: terry jeffords#c: charles boyle#potterverse#b99 hp crossover#myposts#mywords
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"I don't understand you." He says it so blatantly, unprompted but perhaps not unexpected. He fears Ardyn, but doesn't -- fears what he's capable of, but how Ignis has been treated so far betrays the image Ardyn has worked so feverishly to build. "You could dispose of me with frightening ease, and with your detrimental desire to extract revenge on the royal line, you could USE me to get to Noctis, yet you... treat me with a delicacy not expected of you. You understand my confusion, do you not?"
such words they are, simple, fierce, leaving the redhead to contemplate the glass of scotch he held thoughtfully. the depths of gold were left focusing on the amber liquor, tilting the shaped cup this way and that to see the liquid slosh around a degree or two. understanding was a chancy thing with ardyn, bold and harsh as he could be. but there, too, were moments like this one where the immortal could be called quietly contemplative, the sardonic armor he wore on a daily basis somewhere else. how he considered that for a moment, his eyes lingering on the clear material and the contents within before those eyes lifted once more to the young man who stood before him. up came the glass and he took a sip, as if taking his time in having done had been to organize his own thoughts on the matter.
❝ i could, yes. use you, that is, ❞ he agreed while meeting the other’s stare. how beautiful he was in his anger and frustration and fear. it only caught his attention the way it ever did. that was no different than usual, after all. ❝ if i wished to, i could eliminate you - and those friends of yours. i could strip every bit of support he has from him and leave him bereft with nothing behind but the memories of you and the shield and that little doll. ❞ down moved the stare once more, his fingers shifting to turn it this way and that as if the booze he was sipping at contained all the secrets of the universe itself. ❝ but my desires are not your death or theirs. just, perhaps, only his. anything else could be considered… collateral. ❞ and wasn’t that a harsh way to view things, he knew. but true.
another moment of quiet before the immortal took another long drink from the cup and then smiled. ❝ i would not say that i treat you with d e l i c a c y, however; you are far from delicate. far better to say that i have no expectations of you. not as a retainer. not as an adviser. not as a young man whose ambition is to become the general to your young prince. i do not expect you to cook and clean or to drive me around. i think you are confusing delicacy with the mere fact that all i do is look at you and see you for who you are – and for who you could be, if you ever tried to be your own person instead of living your life solely for a royal brat who doesn’t understand how important such loyalty and dedication is. ❞ ardyn knew too well the depths of betrayal. he had seen it himself before now. he had lived through it.
then a finger lifted and pointed towards ignis, the gaze that lingered on the tactician fiercely intense. ❝ for all of that, though - i do not offer up anything to those who would make the attempt to stop me. besides – if you are bitter at me, then you should be bitter towards the gods as well. they’re the ones who set this into motion. ❞ so many words, though, so many words – and all to sidestep the issue of that, yes, when it came to ignis … there was a quiet respect and genuine fascination for the young man on ardyn’s behalf. and in some ways it went deeper. he did not know why ignis drew him in so deeply and if he could but figure it out, then ardyn would take steps to mitigate it. but here he was and the immortal knew, all too well, how much he wanted to reach out and just touch him.
how strange it was the machinations of the heart.
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The Magistrate’s Mandate
“Confessor?” The question, following a knock and asked delicately from the doorway by a soft-spoken messenger, prompted a quizzical glance up from her desk inside the Sanctum.
“Yes?” Her musical voice further broke the silence.
“Pardon the interruption. The Magistrate would like to see you.”
Oh. Ohhh. “Very well.” Her voice was far steadier than she felt as she rose to follow.
The day was clear upon the Isle, the trees ever-bursting with eternal foliage of golds and reds. A small breeze teased up from the sea and she took a deep breath to steady her nerves as they made their way across the main square and up the steps to the summoning platform. The Magistrate’s office in Quel’Danas, situated high in a tower at Sun’s Reach, overlooked the harbor with a clear view of the Terrace. She had been here a few times before. Recalling it as well-appointed, she was curious as to the occasion. When she materialized before the open door to his offices, she was quickly ushered in.
“Ah, Miss Sunhawk,” the Magistrate intoned, rising from his ornate desk in a splendor of carnelian and cream silk, the faint crows feet in the corners of his eyes crinkling with the upturn of a smile. “Thank you for coming. A pleasure to see you. Please, please, come in. Make yourself comfortable. Yes, yes, have a seat, there you are.” Bowing low at the waist in the old way, the Magistrate pulled out a chair at his conference table, into which she invested herself following a deep curtsy. After offering her something to drink (politely refused), he admitted his time was short. A folder from his desk was fetched and brought to the table, slapped down softly as he took a seat opposite her.
Sliding wire-framed glasses over glowing golden eyes, he flipped open the chart, humming idly as he skimmed. “I have been reading your file, and am taken to understand that for a time you studied the arcane.” Peering at her over the top of the lenses, he awaited confirmation.
Interesting start. “Yes. My father was an arcanist and we shared a love of books.” The ensuing surge of sadness was expected, but could not be indulged presently. It was shoved back down with an intense exercise of discipline before it could pose too much distraction.
“How lovely! A right and proper calling for a highborne.” More skimming. “Ah, but that’s not all. He was an accomplished fencer, isn’t that right? And so perhaps it was through a mutual love of fencing you eventually found your way to more...martial pursuits.” A flip of a page. “How interesting. Was that here, in Quel’Thalas as well?”
She held her breath, shaking her head. His tilted in response and he sought his answer in the document rather than from her lips with a rapid shift of focus. “Ah. Ahh... I see. Perhaps it was in the City-State of...Theramore.”
The rapid descent in his tone from praise to disappointment was palpable, and the Confessor shifted in her seat. This seemed a broad leap, glancing over many years and experiences, but... He wasn’t incorrect. “For a time, yes, that’s right.”
Tossing the dossier to the side, he leaned back in his chair, eyeing her appraisingly. “I suppose it at least shows some level of discernment that your family followed the Expedition rather than remain in Lordaeron, doomed as it was.” Breaking eye contact to peer out the window, he shrugged. “Why you all did not just...come home to the open arms of your Kingdom; well, that begs other questions.”
A swallow. “Sir, if you would like me to explain…” The wave of his hand silenced her.
“Those were dark times and Lady Proudmoore an accomplished sorceress. Many highborne cleaved to her side, and when the Prophet gave his warning she was wise to leave. Undoubtedly the Kaldorei are thankful for your aid at Hyjal as well.” A soft snort. “For all the good that’s done them.”
A blonde brow arched as lips set into a thin line, but prudence won the moment and she remained silent. Seeing no comment was forthcoming, the Magistrate fiddled with his robe before leaning forward once more to dig into her file. “Northrend. Uh-huh. Argent Tournament...working under the wing of her grace, Bishop-Confessor Morningdove...you know,” he suddenly remarked, tearing off the spectacles to rub his eyes, pausing a moment in thought. “I rather wonder how you rose to Confessorship so quickly. Not just any common arcanist or soldier can apply their brand of skill to cultivating the vulnerable minds of the Azerothian populace. Just what happened up there in the frozen North?”
She knew better than to comment, or raise objection to his tone, or to ask just how he knew all of this. His query was rhetorical, as was his pattern in this chess match. With a deep inhale, a prayer was whispered under her breath. Honestly is truth, and truth is pure. It would be her shield.
Her relief came quickly enough through his love of hearing himself speak. “Nay, please. It matters little for the issue at hand, and your station is one deserving of respect.” He sighed, his tone going conspiratorial. “It just seems the history written upon the annals our beleaguered world goes faster and faster, fate cramming as much as she can into the shortest man-measured years as possible. One war, two wars, three wars….a score of wars! One can hardly keep it all straight.” A wry hurmph is issued as he shifted in his seat. “Would that we had the long, languid eons of the past back...”
With that, the spectacles were shed, slapped to the tabletop with a clink of glass and wire. His hands wove themselves together, gathering at his midsection as he pressed forward. “Miss Silverhawk. You came here, a pilgrim to the Sunwell, and we granted your entreaty. You requested then to remain here, finding it to your liking--as many do.” His eyes sought hers. “This is a favor we do not grant easily, anymore.”
The quirk of her lips was surely visible and so he quickly continued. “Now. We understand all too well the siren call which our blessed font presents for our people; the importance it represents both symbolically and on a more personal basis.” The slightest smirk bloomed upon his face at that.
Her eyes sank downward to hide her shame. He doesn’t understand. I’m not like the others. I never sought to go to Draenor; never supped of the green crystals. I wasn’t even here when...
“We also wished,” his sharp voice cut into her internal cascade, “to display a show of good faith to your service to the stalwart Argent Crusade, in thanks for all they--and you--have done. After all, that was a very select organization, I’m told.”
“Yes, it...was.” Tirion hand-picked every one of us. Tears stung the corners of her eyes. “It still is.”
“And yet, for all the good offered the world,” and he did, to his credit, incline his head in respect, “the Crusade is just not what it once was, correct? I understand the Highlord and most of the prime force perished upon the...what are the humans calling it? The ‘Broken Shore’? And that now, the leadership has been assumed by a human paladin, a Lord Maxwell, and subsumed back under the auspices of their Order of Knights?”
A swallow. It was clear now where this was going. “Yes, that is correct.”
“Interesting.” Abruptly rising, the Magistrate recovered his glasses and wandered to his desk, fiddling with a few scrolls, fingers sliding down the pages until he found what he was looking for with a smart tap. “See here, it says reports indicate that members of this order, this...Silver Hand, have been present at the warfront of Arathi, fighting for the Alliance.” Peering up at her now, his face was void of emotion. He wielded fact with cold efficiency. “It would seem that they have chosen a side in this conflict. The side which, given the geographical location, represents a threat to the safety of the Kingdom.”
Her stomach lurched. She had wondered if and when this day would come, and...so it seems it had. Many of her new friends in the Outreach wandered in with their tail tucked between their legs, hesitant and vigilant. Is this how they felt, faced with conflicting loyalties?
Watching her a lingering moment, the Magistrate made his way to the nearby liquor cabinet, choosing a decanter of garnet hued liquid and pouring what looked to be a glass of dark port. Turning, he raised it in offerance - would she now partake, perhaps? At the shake of her head, he capped the pitcher once more and paced, robes whispering in time to the idle tapping his fingernail made upon the petite glass.
“You’ve been gone quite a bit lately,” he began again, the prior more circuitous train of thought replaced by a new level of directness. “Less and less at the clinic here, where some of our most wounded come for replenishment and renewal.” Long, pale hair shifted like melting snow with the disappointed shaking his head gave as he meandered to the window, eyeing the wide expanse of placid ocean as he sipped his drink
“Now, Miss Sunhawk, I understand completely the urge to follow one’s heart. The drive to offer your unique benediction to the far flung corners of the world, such as...salt-abraded prison islands and the shattered hamlets of Lordaeron. It must at times be practically impossibly difficult to resist.” The knowing smile he offered her with a side cant of his face made her blood run cold. “But lest you forget, you are a first and foremost, by right of birth and bloodline, belore’dorei of the Kingdom of Quel’Thalas, with all the rights, privileges and expectations that grants.
The world shrank, her vision clouding as her breath caught in her chest. With a soft clearing of her throat, she sat up straighter, mentally raising her shield to speak her truth. “Sir. With all due respect, I am, first and foremost, a Confessor of the Argent Crusade. Sworn to fight evil wherever it may manifest and offer healing wherever it is n--…”
“Confessor,” he interrupted. “Let me make this simple.” Turning toward her once more, he stood framed by the window pane, features in shadow as the light from behind streamed forward around his shape. “You will focus more upon your duties here. You will heal our wounded and you will counsel the bereaved. You will help train the Spellbreakers as needed. And you will do all of this not only because it is your privilege as one of us; but you will do this because you enjoy the proximity to the Sunwell afforded to those in Quel’Danas.”
A lead weight took up residence inside of her stomach. Her greatest failure now held her in chains. Despite all her discipline and work, the indelible mark Northrend had left on her made her vulnerable, a pawn for a war machine spinning out of control.
He must have noticed her wilt. “Oh come now my dear. Just to be clear, you are not a prisoner. No, no. However, we just wish…” He swirled the last bit of drink in his glass with a flourished gesture of his arm, casting garnets upon the wall as it caught the light. “For more of your precious time. That’s it.” Down went the dregs of the port, and so too her mood. “So. Are we clear?”
Her golden eyes meandered to the beveled glass in his hand. The intricate array of engraved facets glimmered with multidimensional promise of possibilities reflected, yet held in check by the singularly firm grip of his fingers.
“As crystal,” she whispered.
#selowyn writing#waylight outreach#argent crusade#loyalties#isle of quel'danas#battle for azeroth#elven politics#past and present#wow rp
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