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#(i say roughly bc i *was* recording it day by day so i can keep track but i stopped for about a week
elibeeline · 10 months
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(Guess who hates their job againnn)
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wegc · 5 months
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hi pretty!! hru and happy new year <3 school starts next week which means i have to start prepping from this week (really i should’ve been revising all break but wtv🫣) which means u will probably be seeing less of me for now BUT!!! i will do my best to check in and torment u with my filthy thoughts as often as i can LOL.
current brainrot is changbin absolutely manhandling you with his big strong ass, cause you just had to be a brat today for some reason. sneaking off to the bathroom to fuck yourself open with fingers that are nowhere near as good as his and send him recordings of your pretty, whiny moans. running your brand new nails (that he paid for bc i am a firm believer that bin would spoil his girl like mad) over his cock through his jeans while you’re both out with the members. there’s really only so much a man can take—which is why the second you get home, he’s throwing you over the arm of the couch and dragging your panties down. “bunny wanted to act like a slut all day, she’s gonna get fucked like one, yeah? look at this cunt, all messy and dripping f’ me. this is what you’ve wanted, huh? needy girl.” shoves your legs open and fingers you until you’re grinding on his hand and damn near sobbing. “bet this feels better than whatever you were doing to yourself earlier. dumb little bunny, trying to be a brat. all you gotta do is ask nicely and i’ll give you whatever you want, you know that.” doesn’t even bother to tell you when he wants you to move, just throws you around like a doll or grabs you with one arm and moves you around himself.
at one point he pulls you up from your hands and knees and wraps an arm around your throat to pin you to his broad chest. his thick cock has been practically splitting you open for god knows how long now—you’re so fucked out that you’ve stopped keeping track—and the couch cushions underneath you are soaked with your release. when bin reaches down to your clit again with his other hand, you whimper and feebly try to buck away from him. he just laughs and tightens his grip on you, cooing, “be a good little slut and take what i’m giving you, bunny” in your ear in a soft voice that’s a total contrast to the way he’s fucking ruining you. and how could you ever say no?
(this may or may not be motivated purely by changbin’s aaa performance outfit because good GOD why did he look even bigger and beefier than usual i want him so bad)
-🍒 anon
OHFMY GODF. . . do i even say anything at this point . . . what is there left to say holy fucking shit i am going insane this was so good ARE U SURE U DONT HAVE UR OWN BLOG BECAUSE IF NOT!!! GET ON IT!!!
omg omg omg i forgot who in skz said this but someone said that changbin becomes increasingly attractive while he’s eating AND HDHEHFDEDFFFD someone on twitter posted a video of him chowing down on some food and holy fuck the angle that video was taken from made his arms look so big and beefy, i replayed it for what felt like an hour.
BUT ! back on topic ! you would have to annoy changbin a lot for him to snap at you and fuck you this roughly because you’re his baby :( it’s okay if you’re a little spoiled :( he’ll always take care of you :(
but holy fuck, was his week horrible. he and chan got into a petty argument, their choreographer was up his ass about their upcoming award show performances, and all he wanted to do was fuck you slowly and sweetly like you deserved. but no! he was stuck in the practice room for another three hours and like a little minx, you sent him videos of you spreading your cunt open. if he wasn’t so pent up and tortured, he would scoff at how small the stretch of your fingers must have been compared to his thick cock.
you are IN FOR IT as soon as he reaches home. he couldn't care less about what you were doing. if you were on the phone—the call ended; if you were texting someone—power off; if you were cooking —no problem! he’s turning the stove off and shoving your hips aggressively against the counter, sliding your soaked, lace panties to the side after he’s bunched up your dress to your waist, and fucking his cock right into your greedy little cunt.
his hands would leave bruises on your hips with how firmly he would be gripping them and your ass would be so sore from his continuous smacks because changbin really couldn't control his temper after his shit show of a week.
and if fucking you in the kitchen wasn’t enough, he’ll fuck you in the living room, office, against your balcony window, in the laundry room, in the bedroom, and finally—the shower. your poor hole would be gaping by the end of his abuse, all spent and dribbling with his loads of cum :(
i can just imagine you’re all fucked out by the end of it and still, binnie grips your face and squeezes it harshly, forcing your lips to form a pathetic little pout :(
“see what happens? wanna try that again? sluts like you can’t go a second without being stuffed, huh?”
“do i need to do this every time, honey? do i have to teach you a lesson every day?”
“fussy girl. you knew i’d take care of you—still had to annoy me though, hm?”
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polonium-snap · 10 months
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Bkdk plot bunnies pt. 4
- Katsuki is a great fucking adult, the best even
- he does his taxes, hell he even does the whole Bakusquad’s because he doesn’t “want them to go to fucking jail for tax evasion”
- So imagine his surprise when in the mail he receives a letter from the tax agency because he overpaid his taxes
- Now of course it’s a matter of pride, Katsuki goes over his calculations again, sure he made no mistake
- He calls the tax agency to asure them he NEVER makes mistakes
- “Oh yes, I see here you got married a year ago congratulations! That means you get a tax discount, that’s why it appears you overpaid this year sir.” Says the costumer service agent
- “I’m not married! You guys fucked up.” Katsuki says vindicated in that he didn’t make any mistakes.
- “Your name is Katsuki Bakugou, right? I can see here your marriage certificate, and you indeed got married about a year ago”
- “I think I’d remember if I had a fucking wedding” katsuki said starting to get angry
- “…Sir, I can see in public records that on 17/07/XXXX you married Midoriya Izuku now Bakugou Izuku, if you had a divorce maybe it hasn’t gon-“
- “D-did you just say Midoriya Izuku?” Katsuki stuttered
- “…yes…?”
- Katsuki hangs up.
- He pulls up public records himself and sure enough there is his marriage certificate where Izuku took his last name (bc in Japan you can only keep one surname per couple)
- “Motherfucker.” Of course bullshit like this follows Katsuki when Deku is concerned.
- He runs to Izuku’s apartment taking it a step further and going through his mail
- “Bakugou Izuku, Bakugou Izuku, this fucking idiot…” Katsuki muses as he flips through the mail.
- “Dekuuuu!!!” Katsuki pounds on the apartment’s door roughly.
- “I’m coming, I’m coming!” Izuku’s voice is heard from inside. “Kacchan w-“
- “Apparently a year ago we got fucking married” Katsuki shows the marriage certificate on his phone to Deku
- “What?!”
- Katsuki explained everything. “…and just now I looked through your mail and it’s all addressed to Bakugou Izuku, how the fuck did you miss that for over a year?!”
- “Oh my god, so we’re legally married?!”
- “Somehow!!”
- “W-when did this even happen?!”
- They look at the date and try to figure out if someone forged their signatures
- They remember that day a big sting operation in Yumeshima island (the Vegas of Japan according to google lol) had just ended and a few of their friends were there, they had just missed Izuku’s 20th birthday because of the operation so they decided to celebrate there
- And everyone got really really drunk, both Izuku and Katsuki themselves blacked out
- “So we got married then?” Izuku asks
- “It appears so.” Katsuki said
- “How did we not know until now? I mean at least one of our friends has to have remembered.”
- Katsuki got angry “if one of those fuckers hid it from us I’m going to explode them.”
- They call Uraraka first; “Sorry Deku-kun! I can’t remember anything from that night either.” She apologized
- Then Kirishima; “What? Those weddings aren’t fake?! They had Michael Jackson officiating, that can’t be legal!!!”
- Todoroki; “Wait, so you guys aren’t together? I thought you just decided to get married, that’s why I bought you that blender you wanted Bakugou.”
- Shinsou; “oh yeah, I just thought it was the funniest shit ever. I even kept the original certificate.”
- “So you’ve been sitting on this for a year?!” Deku said.
- “Yeah,” Shinso confirmed. “I mean, I didn’t think you would take this long to realize, Midoriya, or should I say Bakugou?”
- “IM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!!!” Katsuki bellowed at the phone.
- “Come on Bakugou, let’s not fight, I wouldn’t want to leave Izuku a widow”
- “MOTHERFU-“
- “Besides, just get a divorce, you haven’t been married long so you won’t have to legally separate your things or anything” as much things new heroes two years out of high school could have
- They decide to sort the legal shit on their next day off
- Or they would have if the news didn’t leak to the press just a day later
- ‘Pro hero Deku and Pro hero Dynamight MARRIED FOR OVER A YEAR?!’
- The PR of the agency begs them to stay married until it blows over
- “Izuku baby, why didn’t you tell me you got married to Katsuki-kun! You didn’t even invite me to your wedding!” Inko cries as Deku tries to console her
- “You fucking brat, you didn’t have the fucking decency to invite your own mother to your wedding to Izuku-kun, do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?!”
- “Fuck you hag, this is exactly why I didn’t fucking invite you!” Katsuki replies
- The media starts getting suspicious because they don’t live together and don’t do PDA
- In an interview Bakugou panics and says they live apart because they are saving up for a house which everyone thinks is so cute
- PR makes them do a little PDA
- So slowly they settle into a relationship and just never divorce
-later, two years or so after they have a proper wedding and live happily ever after
Pt 1| pt 2 | pt 2.5| pt 3| pt 5 | pt 6 |
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spearxwind · 1 year
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Hiya, I’d like to put some thoughts out there on my blog (my house) bc I need to yarf some intense feelings or I fear I will explode on a nuclear scale. This is about hollowridge (not in a negative light!! just explaining + reminiscing of old stuff and talking about new stuff. Pouring my heart out more than a little bit.)
I will put them under a readmore of course, this is PRETTY long winded, so you can read or ignore at your leisure -w- 
I was in my adri tag a while ago looking for some images and ended up going through the whole thing and seeing the evolution of him as a character and HR as a story. Additionally, I recently organized my external memory where all my art files are stored and also saw my old stuff, old concepts, old documents with info and ideas, etc etc and like other times where I have looked through my old stuff I have been WRACKED with so many emotions about it. It’s always a dangerous game to go back into my folders/tags to look because I always end up feeling this whooole spiel all at once and very intensely.
Seeing my content shifts is jarring. Very much so. It always is. I don’t think I can pinpoint causes, some of my better creative highs were at really low points in my life, and then other times my creativity and worlds were subsequently really hardly hit during similar lows. I like to think that I am on the up now though, both mentally and creatively. I’m getting back into a lot of things I love, and I am surrounded by people who I love dearly and who love me back, and things in general are really good! I feel less… I wouldn't say wrathful, but way less frustrated when looking back at my old stuff and more inspired to go back to these concepts with a healthier more open mind + knowing that I have improved nonetheless. 
Specifically for hollowridge. Hollowridge feels like a home to me, simple as that. It's something immensely dear to me and I think this is clear by how much effort I have put into it over time, not all of it well placed or with good results, but effort to make it the best that it could be (at best) and effort to keep it afloat (at worst). HR is a strange thing to look back on because it has gone through so many iterations that its hard to pinpoint just one when looking back, but there's a specific time slot (2017-2018 roughly… I’m not gonna check) that I believe is where it was at its best, and that is specifically the vibe that I am trying really hard to go back to with the newest iteration.
I’ve always struggled with it a lot, I've often voiced this publicly, or to friends who would hear my woes out (god bless them for hearing me go on and on about this like a bass boosted and emotional broken record), often because there was so many possibilities that I could run with and I had a lot of really, really conflicting ideas that I wanted to explore. I also had a lot of trouble with lore in general because for many years I was haunted by the absurd need to “make things make sense”, whatever that means. Having things grounded so that people wouldn't be able to poke holes into the watertight plot.. which I never achieved of course. It was less watertight and more of a welded together pringle shaped monstrosity (This was not only true for hollowridge, but was true for everything I have ever made. like in general. It’s been a consistent creative problem for me). 
Eventually what happened iteration after iteration was that I throttled myself too much with rules, random limitations, all in favor of making something cohesive and deleting all the fun bits off the project in the process.
For this reason I also can’t just up and go “yeah i'm gonna turboscrap everything and go back to what worked in 2017” because it also DIDN’T work then. But that vibe specifically is what I am aiming for. The “classic” vibe, if you will (if that means anything to you as it does to me.)
What didn't work for me back in the day was giving everything a reason for existing, which is something I no longer wish to do (it’s better that way) and also something that failed back then both in HR, and in extinction (earlier drafts) and just about any version of a story I ever tried to make was THE SCOPE. It always spiraled out of my hands. God entities always escape me. Magic systems always escape me. How cities and such would be regulated in these scenarios escape me. Its just things I’m not comfortable writing about in general
So that’s why I have made changes to it currently (the whole lens of technology over it) because it makes it easier to think about, and easier to handle. Post apocalypses are fun to handle, and also easy to handle (for me, in this context). Technology going awry feels like its easier to think about than just vague “magic”, even if in the end the aesthetic looks literally exactly the same. Does that make sense? I hope it makes sense.
To give an example: Magic spells and circles → programs and code lines. That can be shot into machinery or meat (recodes your fucking genome in real time and gives you super brain hemorrhage idk). I guess it just gives my brain something to latch onto that isnt just vague rules of a magic system that could potentially be anything and everything? It essentially works the exact same way… its just the lens of looking at it is changed.
Mimics are their own thing now (nanotechnology, instead of vague.. shadow things). Adri is his own thing while still connected to mimics (an angel array made of the same stuff, instead of.. whatever else). Connected to the world. AND all the conflicting but dearly beloved concepts I had for him actually fit (snake, scarf, smoke, usurper of a body that is not his. Hey remember when he was made out of ashes/smoke and eventually out of goop. Well all of that is true at once now! It’s ALL canon! Bitch! The concepts have been reconciled!!)
There are also more “normal” creatures besides these, animals that have either evolved aboveground due to fit into new world niches (so I can design Whatever without being too limited) and there’s also machine/biomachine chimeras, and purposed grown organisms, and just Weird Shit made by machines in the belly of the earth (meat is just complex machinery. you know this. your heart is a piston and your blood gasoline. but I digress.) So I have the space to Get Weird if I so choose, on my own terms this time. And it will have a proper place in the world.
There used to be a lot of concepts that were cool that I missed a lot when I had to shift away from them. Like mimics infecting people and pretending to be them, and then being able to break the hosts bodies apart to make bodies for the mimic itself. That did not fly in pretty much 80% of the later versions of HR but I was able to bring it back for this one. I’ve tied mimics to the epidemic and to Adri in a way that MAKES SENSE but lets me go wild anyways
I guess… the short way of explaining is that. Instead of it being very vague supernatural stuff of dubious origin, now it's a ‘manmade horrors beyond your comprehension’ type deal (still of dubious origin). Which obviously neither the characters nor I would be able to explain to you the details of its origins but the distinction MATTERS to me (to my brain).
Something else about HR is that it’s made up of me having rounded up a bunch of ocs who’s stories were empty or were left to the void so that they could have a fitting home where they could shine. At the end of the day I just wanna do my characters justice. I don’t want to just relegate them to nice set pieces (even though they ARE cool set pieces), but each of them has years of backstory stuff that I would like to keep to not lose the essence of said character and its where I put the bulk of my writing effort into.
I want their connections to the story to be solid, but I also want their base vibes and the vibes I am familiar with for those characters to BE THERE too. So if I’m slow with revealing info, or writing in general, its literally because all the processing power in my skull is being used to think of how to best approach that and not just throw low quality spaghetti at a wall. (Sometimes the spaghetti method works very well, but often. It does not. And only makes things more complex in the long run, so I have learned to be more careful with it)
Dianne and Nirven are over 12 years old now as characters. That 's insane. And she still has the same core concept of how her magic works as I created it ages ago.
Same for Bei. He still has his same vibe back when I made him 10 years ago.
And Adam when I made him 9 years ago. Though I’m working out stuff for him still in this new edition, but I’ll get there. I promise. 
Sooo……….. What I’m really trying to say is that I’m learning to have fun again. And at the same time (re)realizing I used to have some super swag ideas that I have never fully let go of that I am VERY adamant on keeping. And my aim is to go back to that unhinged unbridled joy of creating for a world that is just So Fucked Up but it Works somehow. And yeah, if you’ve ever been frustrated at my changes don’t worry: me fuckin’ too buddy. A thousandfold. And if you’ve ever been curious as to the why of everything, then I hope this rant serves as some sort of explanation?
So yeah, if you’re an old fan and missed old stuff, I hope I am able to do it justice once more and from now on. I promise I am trying my best, I always have been. It just works better sometimes. And if you are someone new and dont know what the fuck I’m talking about, 1. thank you for reading this far and 2. I hope you enjoy the ride regardless
And who knows…. knowing me in a few years I might see this all changed again. Or maybe this will be the one, finally, that sticks. We’ll see. At the moment like I said, I am focusing on loving my characters, their world, their and my original intentions, and just having as much fun as I can with it. If I create confusion in the process then that’s something I will have to accept. I’m not a big media corporation with a team or writers, or even just one (1) accomplished author with a huge brain. I’m not tolkien. I’m just some guy having fun with made up guys in my brain
Thank you for reading this far, if you did, if there’s anything you’d like to comment or discuss (if anything, I don’t expect it) please feel free to reply or DM me, I try to respond in a timely manner when possible <3 
Thanks for sticking around too. It means the world to me that you have. Have a really good week, cheers
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strawbubbysugar · 4 months
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Happy birthday Bubby!
Couple more questions!
-Are you able to say everyone’s ages in So(u)l, including the animatronics?
-Does June ever play his guitar and sing in public or at bars or anything or does he only do that at home now?
-Soulmate question, kinda regarding Rush and Morgan’s bond, does that imply that if you don’t have a soulmate due to your previous one passing away, you can get a new bond later even if your future soulmate already exists? Like the string will “wait” kinda until they’re ready? Or was Morgan and Rush’s string there right when Rush woke up?
-What are June, Hello, and Goodbye’s main fidgets/stims?
-Okay this might be weird lol but I’m curious, what are Hello and Goodbye’s favorite little things that June does in his sleep? Does he talk, twitch, unconsciously cling to them like a koala, anything like that?
-What kind of odd jobs does June do on the side?
Thank you!!
i wanna keep it vague, but June is roughly in his mid 20's matt is roughly in his mid-late 30's Marlow is roughly one year younger than June Morgan is two years older than June Hello is a year old (his AI is somewhere around June's age) Goodbye was a year older than June (now the same age as Hello) Rush is around 8 years old (his ai is early 30's) Wibble is around 6 years old (his ai is the same as Rush) Cammie is 4 around years old (her ai is the same as wibble and rush) Octavia is around 2 years old, but was technically never completed (her size makes it much easier to fit a more complex system in her, so her mental age is around 40) The skrittles have the same AI age as toddlers, but theyre a few months old Astro Cadet has been worked on off and on for about six years, and his ai is about the same age. It grows much slower than the WOW branded animatronics
Absolutely no in public things. He's gotten a lot more shy about performing since his band days. He only ever plays for hello/goodbye and piper
Soulmate marks are all about right time, right place. if you arent the version of yourself that would be soulmates with someone, no markings will show up. Morgan was a very different person with their last soulmate, and their life experiences changed who they are. it happens! people change, especially as they get older. its why a lot of people are told not to be upset if they dont get any markings until later on (SPOILERS BELOW) Its why samir and june didnt have any soul marks until samir was goodbye. he wasnt the person that wouldve been soulmates with june yet, he needed to experience and change and grow before that would happen. So did june!
June chews his lip a lot, and sighs. Sometimes he sighs for no reason just because he forgot to breathe. I think his favourite fidget toy would be one of those fidget cubes Hello stims by waving/flapping his arms, or playing with his hands. I think he'd enjoy fidget spinners or rubix cubes! Goodbye stims with squeezing/pressure. He'd enjoy weighted blankets, and I think he'd enjoy stress balls. Ones with thick stuff inside so he can really squeeze down
Hello likes it when June sighs in his sleep, or mumbles. Goodbye thinks its funny when he snores on occasion, and records it to play it back while pretending to nap. (taking inspiration from my roommate bc its hilarious, sometimes june will make the saddest, softest little sigh in his sleep and hello will wake him up like "WERE YOU HAVING A BAD DREAM ARE YOU OKAY" & june will be entirely confused)
June does a lil of everything. people in town come to him for a lot of stuff like yard work, painting houses/fences, cleaning houses. He occasionally comes into bryn's office and helps with anything they might need too, like fixing the chairs, etc. He's known as a jack of all trades around town (which makes him feel nostalgic, since that used to be what he called his childhood best friend)
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jareicanon · 8 months
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I love your fics!!!!! They're so beautiful 🥹I want to know- how long have you been writing for to become so good? Haha
WAHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH <333
I’ve been writing for a lot of years now, I’d put it roughly at 8 years total?? Maybe?? Not sure. But I spent a lot of free time/school hours (when I wasn’t supposed to be writing lol) doing my own thing, but even back then my quality of writing wasn’t great—
But like— That’s the whole point of practicing right? Like. You get better with time and practice.
I DEFINITELY HAVE — if you go back to my earlier works in ao3 from when I joined (last October I think?), so nearly a year ago, the quality of my writing is… yikes!!!! And that was after I’d had like a whole year off from writing after I had insane writers block.
Now I’d say I’m pretty decent, but I’m still improving! Be that character portrayal, descriptions or dialogue.
And fun fact, I only made myself an ao3 account in order to force myself to get back into writing, in order to practice descriptions — which are my weakness when it comes to writing, as I default to dialogue — and to have a record of me writing (with dates included), so I’d be forced to keep it up in writing and not spend months in an odd limbo of not writing, like I’d done before (my writers block beforehand had lasted for several months and then I’d really struggled in getting back into writing and enjoying it).
But yeah! I’m still improving myself, even if I’ve been writing for a while. I can still find faults within my own writing (name one writer who can’t, I’ll wait), but like— I’ve definitely improved since last year, you know?
I try not to put too much emphasis on myself to “be good” with how poor my own self reflection is, but honestly, how my writing has come so far is mainly down to me strictly sitting down and making myself practice by doing a rough draft every few days and then when I can’t bear to look over it anymore, posting it so it’s out there and done and then moving onto the next.
I hate being told this lmao so I sympathise if it’s annoying, but seriously— Practice does pay off. It might take a while to see the results (and I sympathise here too; it’s irritating when you don’t think you’re making any progress), but they will show up!
Keep writing what you enjoy for YOU and for NO ONE ELSE (bc if you start doing it for others your love of writing may start to wear down) and it will pay off!
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acemapleeh · 2 years
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A Rough Timeline and Guide of the British Isles
In my findings for history week, I sort of compiled some headcanons as to when each of the countries that make up the Isles came to be, including the Ancients they descended from. This is by no means a historically accurate guide, a lot going off of myths and legends. I, personally, like combining myth into my works and dates are rough to pin down. Take it all with a grain of salt, I’m no historian. I also use the terms BCE (before common era) and CE (common era) instead of BC and AD respectively.
Hibernia/ Ériu (Arrived alongside the mythical Tuatha Dé Danann, and though the fifth and second to last group of people to settle in Ireland, they made up the pantheon of Celtic gods and goddesses; “child” of Danu (mother goddess and credited as being the land), roughly 1897 BCE with the first of their ruling kings; other legends say he arrived with the Milesians (sometime in the 1st millennium BCE), who represent the actual people and are considered to be the ancestors of the Celts and the true fathers of the Irish people; they were the last to settle of the mythic founding. They agreed with the Tuatha Dé Danann to divide the land between the Heavens and Earth before they fought, sending the Gods underground. Hibernia represents more Pre-Christian Ireland so I’m keener on him arriving alongside the pantheon of gods, representing nature, magic, and life. His health began to decline as Christianity overtook the country and the culture began to shift, beginning the path for modern Ireland)
Caledonia/ Celt (keep in mind there was little to no recorded history of Scotland until the arrival of the Roman Empire in the 1st century CE; the creator of the land, Callieach, made the first and ancient rock of Caledonia which is said to be the island of Iona; she created every ascept of the country including its islands, mountains, lakes, and streams; her alter ego, Bride, was the goddess of spring and created the flowers and grass everywhere she walked; Cailleach, who was said to be the hag of winter, was infuriated and imprisoned Bride; Angus Og, the prince of eternal youth and green from Tír na nÓg, sees in a dream what is happening and sets out to find Bride; not long after Cailleach washed her plaid and draped it over the mountains (covering the land in ice and darkness), the prince arrived and battle ensued portraying the eternal struggle of life and death; Cailleach is defeated and driven back to Iona; Bride now free takes the hand of Angus Og and walk into the living Earth; Caledonia is said to have been born after these events, a mixture of the Earth and eternal youth and magic; timeline wise, arrived after Hibernia)
Britannia (historically speaking, she likely shouldn’t exist but I put her here for fiction’s sake; Britain before the Roman occupation mainly consisted of a diverse number of tribes that were collectively referred to as Britons; 'Britain' was just a geographical entity, and had no political meaning, and no single cultural identity; in the early days of the human population of the island not many dates stand out as of significance for Britain’s history; Britannia may have emerged with the first people to which we can give a name, the Beaker folk from the Low Countries and the middle Rhine who turned up in Britain in the Bronze Age (roughly 2,300 BCE); also could theorize she emerged during the British Iron Age (earliest dating to begin 800 BCE) which came with mass migrations of people to the southern half of Briton; Iron Age British tribes were not considered to be Celtic; Britain’s many regional cultures grew out of the preceding local Bronze Age, and did not derive from waves of continental 'Celtic' invaders; a lot of their language and tools resembled closer to mainland Europe’s Celtic (Gaul) rather than Insular Celtic; regardless, during this time was a great emergence of culture and identity and population increase; this one got off track a bit)
Ireland- Érie- Morgan O’Neill (Make them really old to be the one who arrived with the Milesians in the 1st century BCE (Ireland’s last name is O'Neill on account of the descendants of the Milesians include 'Niall of the Nine Hostages' where the O’Neill’s are descended from; fun fact side note, in the mid-1500s, Sean O’Neill, the Earl of Tyrone, was causing so many problems for the English crown that Elizabeth I banned the name O’Neill, on the punishment of death and forfeiture of property so you bet Morgan kept their name to piss Arthur off); you can say the Christian influence shifted Irish culture in about 431 with the first recorded account of the ordination of Pope Celestine I of Palladius as the first bishop to Irish Christians and they grew out of childhood with the changes growing in the country; regardless, they are the oldest of the siblings; they were a patchwork of kingdoms as Gaelic Ireland until the Lordship of Ireland (or Norman Ireland) in 1117, then the Kingdom of Ireland in 1542)
Scotland- Alba- Alistair Cunnynghame (Also said to have descended from the Milesians Gaels though he emerged after the migration from Ireland to Scotland; the Scots Gaels derive from the kingdom of Dál Riata which eventually became associated with the Gaelic Kingdom of Alba; though Scotland was alive before the emergence of this kingdom, it was at its height in the 6th and 7th century where he began to transition from child to teen; from the 5th to 10th centuries, early Scotland was home not only to the Gaels of Dál Riata but also the Picts, the Britons, Angles and lastly the Vikings; the Kingdom of Alba/ Scotland was said to be founded as a successor kingdom to Dál Riata and Pictland in 843)
Wales- Cymru- Dylan Llewellyn (410 emergences of Welsh Kingdoms and Roman garrison withdrawn from Britain (383 was the effective end of Roman rule in Wales) Kingdom of Gwynedd founded in 450; Principality of Wales founded in 1216)
England- Albion- Arthur Kirkland (appeared in 450 along the first emergence of Anglo-Saxon settlements; 927 the Kingdom of England emerged from unified Anglo-Saxon kingdoms)
Northern Ireland- Tuaisceart Éireann/ Norlin Airlann- Seán Donnelly (created in 1921 when Ireland was partitioned by the Government of Ireland Act 1920, creating a devolved government for the six northeastern counties; honestly I’m uncertain why Hima depicts him being around the same age as Ireland and older than England; he’s the baby brother; the oldest I could put him would be in the 1880′s with the rising resistance to the Home Rule, desire for Irish autonomy in internal affairs without breaking up the United Kingdom, and by 1912, the Ulster Covenant pledged for the county of Ulster to be excluded from Home Rule, WWI would delay the process of Home Rule)
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heavyweightheart · 3 years
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hey, do you have advice on a good way to figure out if you're undereating without trying to calorie count through like myfitnesspal or something that's going to be all gross about it? I have a really hard time motivating myself to eat so I strongly suspect that I'm undereating but I don't... know
i love that you called myfitnesspal “gross” lol! true. it’s hard to give specific advice on this without knowing your full situation and history, but there is one thing i can say w assurance: if you think you’re undereating, you’re almost definitely undereating. maybe the unscientific term i made up, “food dysmorphia,” can help you here. ;) for so many reasons, but mainly bc we have all been made so anxious about eating too much, we tend to perceive ourselves as eating more than we actually are.  i’m gonna assume you don’t have clear and reliable hunger and fullness cues (if you do, follow them!). some ppl really can reclaim calorie counting for anti-restriction purposes, to make sure they’re getting enough. i did that, actually, since i was already an encyclopedia of nutrition facts, and then i easily stopped when i transitioned to more intuitive eating. it’s important to count very roughly, and to round down, bc food dysmorphia can show up here as well. count to a calorie minimum and eat beyond it if you want to! not everyone can deal in calories, though, so there are apps that are recovery-oriented. recovery record is the one i’m most familiar with (it’s problematic, but you can tailor it to your purposes). it will help you stay on a meal plan or eating schedule. if you ever have access to a clinician, they can connect to your account if you want support or accountability.  you can also do a meal plan or meal schedule on your own. say you’re committing to eating 3 meals and 3 snacks per day. you can set alarms on your phone to remind you. you can text a friend when you’ve done one, or report at the end of the day. maybe keep a diary. and, watch what “normal” eaters (this is a fraught idea, i know!) eat. it can be so helpful to see other people’s plates to get a sense of what a typical amount of food is to eat as a meal, or a snack. if you had access to eating disorder treatment, you’d be eating heaping plates of food, often calorie-dense. no dainty influencer aesthetic plates--we’re fueling human bodies here. whatever method you choose or can access, i’m really glad you’re addressing your undereating! you may find that as you meet your body’s energy needs, you feel better in general and it takes on a momentum of its own. x
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carminite-wyrm · 3 years
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A Genshin Impact Hermitcraft AU Idea, God Help Me
Last year, on September 28, a particular gacha rpg game was released and I, occasionally regrettably, fell straight into playing it. In honour of the fact that this will mean I have lasted nearly a whole year (I got the game a week after bc uni) determinedly not spending any money on Genshin whilst also trying to roll good characters…here’s a bunch of Hermitcraft Genshin AU ideas that I initially came up with at roughly 2.40 am.
The general idea of this AU is that the Hermits end up in a new world that has Genshin-esque mechanics, on top of the usual Minecraft shenanigans. So, Visions and stuff. Also, we’re gonna just…briefly ignore the actual Genshin lore in regards to how Visions and Gnosises (Gnoses?) come about, for this one.
Post-S8, the Hermits are travelling to a new world, ready for another season.
The moment they arrive, it is clear to them all that…something is different. Something is vastly different with this world, for all that it appears much like the previous servers that they have lived in and travelled to. There is something of a…presence to it, in a sense.
When the Something Different doesn’t appear immediately, being the demigods/almost-deities that they are, they go about their days, setting up starter bases, gathering the basic resources and tools, the usual beginnings.
Things change when Doc wakes up one morning after a hard day at work building a new redstone machine, to find a small glowing chess piece lying next to his head, crackling with an ethereal purple light
Upon picking it up, he feels a burst of energy, almost like that one time in the previous world where he and Ren built a lightning-summoning tower
However, the changes it has wrought become apparent later that day when Scar comes out of nowhere with the recording of a creeper’s tell-tale hiss and explosion, and Doc sends him flying backwards with a startled blast of lightning
At first, they chalk it up to ‘Something Funky With Doc’s Current Project’, but after some tests, some experimentation to confirm if it was a one-off reaction…they end up confirming that they may have found out what the Weird Thing about this season’s world is
The duo go to Xisuma with their findings, and, to their collective surprise, X can’t find anything blatantly broken in the server’s code, but he does find a few interesting lines within.
By all appearances, this is not a glitch, but simply an intended feature of the server
Seven lucky hermits, designated as Archons in the server code, will receive a Gnosis, an artefact of elemental power that the server can assign, given to the ‘player who best suits the element’
The server notes speak of how the power granted (and represented through the chess-piece-shaped item) will grant the receiver the capability to shape the land around them
By random chance, other players on the server will also be gifted a Vision, a somewhat lesser artefact that will still grant them a form of elemental power
Given that the Hermits are practically gods in their own right, considering they are already capable of shaping the worlds they arrive in as they see fit…are more curious than worried, at this point
They agree to keep an eye out, to see how chaotic the sudden acquisition of elemental powers will turn out
The next person to receive a Gnosis is Grian, who delights in the bursts of wind he can use to buffer his flight, gliding across the server with naught but the turquoise magic the server has seen fit to grant him
After that, most of the Hermits soon receives some sort of Elemental power from the server
A Summary of Who Gets What (That I can think of so far):
Doc: [Electro Archon]
Can summon lightning, without need for a trident, a thunderstorm, or a machine that can generate an ongoing thunderstorm for as long as its activated
Can also generate an Electro shield, though it does require his active concentration to maintain for longer than a few seconds. This shield appears like a charged creeper’s aura, except purple
Capable of generating a thunderstorm at will, but rarely does it on account of mob spawning dangers
Has found that by channelling a low level of Electro energy, he can in fact power redstone machines just by tapping them/being in close proximity to them
This has proven to both be a blessing and a curse, considering that on occasion, when startled, he has short-circuited some of his machines
Grian: [Anemo Archon]
Generally, uses his powers as a free rocket boost for flying around the server
Upon finding out that he can use the Anemo energy to create pockets of energy that can boost flight, he takes to leaving them all over the server, in convenient locations to make flight that much more efficient
Yes, he absolutely sets up a fancy elytra course that makes use of his flight-boosters to send players rocketing around a course at breakneck paces (poor Scar experiences many instances of kinetic energy)
Bdubs: [Geo Archon]
Suddenly, making mountains and other works of major terraforming is a lot easier
Certainly, he still prefers to sculpt them and detail them by hand, but bringing the basic shape of the mountain forth by brandishing the power of Geo is something that he can do with ease, in this world
A new shop pops up in the shopping district rather quickly after this realisation: Bdub’s Landshaping Service, Now offering quick terraforming at a budget price! (it is, in fact, a service that makes him quite the amount of money)
And when he wants to sleep, without the other hermits breaking his bed? A glowing shield of steadfast golden magic takes care of that.
Gem: [Dendro Archon]
The patch of the server that Gem has claimed for herself quickly springs to life as plants of all varieties grow to surprising proportions, energised by the power that she now can radiate
The effect is most notable in and around her home, of course, but wherever she travels, the plants grow more vibrantly for days afterwards
Adding a forest of birch around her house takes little more than a thought, a fact she uses to prank some of her friends, those who in the last world were rather vocal about their dislike of non-stripped birch
Another power Gem finds herself with is the ability to summon vines even without a surface for them to initially grow upon, and thus it is not uncommon to see Gem building or resting in a hammock of woven vines
Cub: [Cryo] (cannot make up my mind if I think he’d be Archon material or not)
Gathering powdered snow has never been easier, as instead of waiting for a storm to form and last longer than it takes a Hermit to get into the nearest bed, he can simply clap his hands together and a lump of snow shoots out from just above his shoulder.
It does hurt, getting hit by the sudden snow barrage that Cub is now capable of, but except for the occasional snowball fight, his newfound snow-creation ability is used for making increasingly more insane mob farms and snowy building decoration
False: [Pyro]
The magic her Pyro Vision grants her doesn’t become apparent, not for a while, until she visits the Nether for the first time in this world
A mis-swing in a bastion, and suddenly a horde of piglins and hoglins are chasing after her, and there isn’t enough time to pillar away.
She readies her sword and shield, ready to fight, and suddenly her blade crackles to life with bright flames, unlike the fire aspect enchantment in that it actually is on fire.
Every attack she lands, whilst her sword is alight, seems to invigorate her, return strength and stamina that was lost when she had first tried to flee the enraged inhabitants of the bastion
Xisuma:
The admin is one of the few to not receive a Vision or a Gnosis
Quietly, he does admit to being relieved, considering his powers as an admin are already much greater than that of the other Hermits, for all that they are still his equals
And then, one day, whilst X is placing his diamonds to sign up to one of Grian’s newest competitions, he feels a rush of foreign magic, so unlike the familiar ordered pulses of server code
The blast of wind that comes with a swing of his sword, much later whilst he is mob-farming, is greatly surprising, if not unexpected.
The funny thing about all these new powers, granted by the server itself in the form of artefacts that can easily sit in one’s palm, is that for all they are miraculous on their own, the natural capabilities of the Hermits are already enough to rival them
In the hands of an ordinary person, an ordinary player, the powers from this world would bring them close to the near-omnipotence of Creative, could even be the driving force of server-wide conflict.
Powers such as these, while they can build great things, can so easily be used to destroy, to cause war and destruction, and in other realities, they have.
Perhaps whatever trick of fate that caused the server to be capable of granting these powers hoped to create that conflict, to see what would happen when only a few of their number were gifted such strengths.
Later, when the initial surprise and rush to test out the limits of the server’s granted magics dies down, Zedaph approaches Xisuma, one of the few to not possess an artefact of elemental magic, with an observation
Zedaph notes that, from his studies of the Hermits’ new powers, almost all of them are oriented vastly towards combat, whether they be summonable blades of frost, elemental shields, or even the ability to soothe aches and hurts
And even though the Hermits have all found ways to make those powers work in the ways that they wish them to, it does not take away from the fact that the likeliest original purpose of this server’s magic was for fighting
Any other server, any other group, Zedaph quietly says, and there would more than likely have been bloodshed, given the inequality in the range of power granted
At the end of the day however, unexpected gifts of power or not, the Hermits, at their core, are a group that creates and innovates, a band of friends that shape entire worlds with naught but their own ideas and willpower, and regardless of what powers they now possess in this particular realm, that will not change.
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Ariadne and why the Mycenaeans can fuck right off
Warning: Includes brief mentions of r*pe, cultural destruction, ancient patriarchy reminding us why no woman would ever time-travel more than 5 years into the past if that and a great deal of spite for male historians/public education history/mythology classes. 
Possible side effects may include a sudden intense rage for an ancient society equivalent to the innate rage one has for the Romans burning the library of Alexandria, a distinct hatred for ancient men not being able to let anyone have nice things, and a sudden fascination for Minoa. 
Usually, I stick to writing imagines and being happy with that. It’s fun! I love it! But every now and again, in an attempt to escape the crushing forces known as reality and responsibilities I’ll put on a few cutscenes from games I’m: A) Too lazy to play B) Too broke to play C) Too unskilled to play D) All of the above
because cutscenes are free and why torture yourself with impossible levels when its free on Youtube?* *In all seriousness please support video games and video game creators, but no shame to those of us who prefer cutscenes to gameplay.  A few weeks ago I added the game Hades made by Supergiant to the list because the cutscenes were bomb and the characters are so much fun! Intricate as all hell! Hella cute too but that’s unrelated! Now my pretty little simp patootie is especially a big fan of Dionysus and his gorgeous design so the cutscenes with him are my favorite.
I’m re-watching his cutscenes a few nights ago for fun as background when he has a certain line about Theseus. Don’t quote me on this since my memory is foggy at best but roughly it was: Dionysus: Good job with Theseus. Never cared much for him- what he did to that girl was just horrible.*
*I know that’s not his exact line but this is clearly a rant post fueled by spite and ADD-hyper-focused obsessions with ancient civilizations so let’s not worry too too much about the semantics here. 
Now, I like mythology! Personally, I prefer the Norse mythology due to the general lack of very very gross dynamics that several other ancient mythologies seem to include, but I’m decently familiar with Greek mythos. Enough to go - “Why does the God of Wine give a single fuck about the frat bro of Greek heroes being a dick to a woman? Grossness is embedded into the very DNA of all distant relatives of Zeus, a woman being harassed by Zeus or his bastard army is a typical Tuesday in ancient Greece.” 
Wikipedia confirms that Ariadne is the only woman in the story of Theseus and the Minotaur, which I kinda knew already so unless Theseus did some f’ed up shit to some other princess of Minos, Dionysus could only be referring to her. Disregarding what I know about Wikipedia and how it can suck you down the rabbit hole of rabbit holes through sheer fury I stupidly clicked the link to Ariadne’s article. 
By the time we get to the end of this shitstorm, I will have two separate plotlines for two separate stories based of Ariadne, 2k+ notes (and going) on an ancient civilization prior to a week ago I didn’t know existed and within me there will be a rage towards a different ancient civilization I vaguely recall learning about in high school. 
Here’s how this shit went down. 
First of all, apparently after Theseus abandoned Ariadne on an island to die (yep! He did that! To the one person who is the only reason he defeated the minotaur! Fuck this guy.) there are multiple storylines where Dionysus takes a single look at Ariadne and falls in love. 
“A god falls in love?” you say, aware of how most love stories in Greek mythos can be summed up with Unfortunately, Zeus got horny and Hera is a firm believer in victim blaming. “This poor woman is about to go through hell!” I thought so too! And in one variation of the story, Dionysus does his daddy proud by being an absolute tool to Ariadne. In the majority though? He woos the fuck out of her, and ultimately marries her by consent!
Her consent!
In ancient Greece!
The party dude of the Greek pantheon knows more about consent then his father and modern day frat brothers!
Okay! That’s interesting, so I keep reading. 
Ariadne getting hitched to Dionysus is a big deal in Olympus, to the point of getting a crown made of the Aurora Borealis from Aphrodite who is bro-fisting Dionysus, beyond glad she didn’t have to give him the talk about consent. The rest of the gods are pissy especially Hera who doesn’t like Dionysus much since he is the son of Zeus and Semele but they don’t do much. Ariadne ascends to godhood, becomes the goddess of Labyrinths with the snake and bull as her symbol and that’s that on that. 
Colorin, colorado, este cuento se acabado.  And they lived happily ever after. That’s the end of the post right?
NO! Because curiosity has made me their bitch and there’s more to this calling me. 
Also, I was pissed! Still am! Why the fuck-a-doodle-do did I have to learn about the time Poseidon r*ped a priestess instead of the arguably healthiest relationship in the entirety of the pantheon? Why is Persephone and Hades’ story (which has improved since it was first written and I like more modern versions of it, no hate) the only healthy-ish Greek love story I had to learn when Dionysus and Ariadne were right there? The rage of having endured several grade levels of “Zeus got horny and Hera found out” stories in the nightmare of public education led me to keep looking into this. 
There’s this wonderful Youtube channel called Overly Sarcastic Productions that I highly recommend that delves a lot into mythology, and I have seen their bombass video about Dionysus and how his godhood has changed since he was potentially first written in a language we comprehend. 
Did ya’ll know this man is the heir apparent to Zeus? ‘Cause I didn’t know that!
YEA! Dionysus, man of parties, king of hangovers and inducer of madness, is set to inherit the throne of Olympus! Ariadne didn’t husband up the God of Wine, she husbanded up the Prince of Olympus and heir apparent to the throne! Holy shit! No wonder some of the gods were against her marriage to Dionysus - can you imagine the drama of an ex-mortal woman sitting on the Queen’s throne of Olympus? Hera must have been pissed.
BUT WAIT.
There’s more.
The reason we know Dionysus is a very important god and is possibly even more important than we think is because of a handy-dandy language known as Linear B, otherwise known as the language of the Mycenaeans!
For those of you fortunate enough to have normal hobbies and interests, the Mycenaeans were the beta version of the Greeks. Their written language of Linear B is one of, if not the first recorded instance of a written Indo-European language. This language, having been translated, gives us an interesting look at what the Greek gods were like back in their beta-stages before they fixed the coding and released the pantheon. 
Interesting side facts of the Mycenaean Greek gods include:
Poseidon being the head god with an emphasis on his Earthquake aspect, and being much more of a cthonic god in general. 
Take that Zeus, for being so gross. 
The gods in general being more cthonic, as Mycenaeans were obsessed with cthonic gods (probably due to all the earthquakes and natural disasters in Greece and Crete at that time)
Several of the gods and goddesses that we know being listed, alongside some that we don’t consider as important (Dione)
The first mention of Kore, later Persephone, but no Hades because since a lot of gods were cthonic, there would be no need for one, specific cthonic god to represent the majority of death-related rituals.
That’s not what we’re focusing on though! What we’re focusing on is a specific translated portion of Linear B that we have. One of the translated portions of Linear B that for the life of me I can’t find (someone please help me find it and send the link so I can edit this post) says an interesting phrase. “Honey to the gods. Honey to the Mistress of Labyrinths.”
One more time. “Honey to the gods. Honey to the Mistress of Labyrinths.”
Mistress of Labyrinths. 
Now wait a gosh darn minute. Isn’t there a goddess of labyrinths in the Greek mythos? Why yes! Yes there is! Ariadne!
Here’s a question for you. If Ariadne is but a minor god in the pantheon, a wife to a more predominant god, why is it that while all the other gods and goddesses are bunched together in a sentence of praise, the so-called ex-mortal gets a whole-ass sentence to herself singing praises?
And thus, we have arrived to Minoa!
What is Minoa, you ask? Minoa is to Rome what Rome is to us. An old-ass civilization either older than or younger by a hundred years to ancient Egypt. Egypt, that started in 3200 B.C-ish depending on who you ask. That’s old. Old as balls. They were contemporaries to their trading partner, Egypt until 1450 BC-ish. A 2000 year old civilization.
Minoa was founded on the island of Crete, and was by what artifacts we have found a merchant civilization with its central economy centered on the cultivation of saffron and the development of bronze/iron statues of bulls. Most of what we know about them comes from artifacts and frescoes found on Crete that managed to survive everything else I will mention later, but what matters is that we know a few things about them. 
Obsessed with marine life for some time, given their pottery. 
Had the first palaces in all of Europe, some of them ridiculously big. 
Wrote in Linear A and Cretan Hieroglyphs, both still untranslated languages. 
Had a ritual involving jumping over a bull, for some reason. 
Firm believers in “Suns out, Tits out.”
You’d think I’m kidding on the last one but no! No no no! All the women apparently rocked the tits-out look in Minoa!
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^^^^One of many, many Minoan works featuring women giving their titties fresh air. ^^^^
“Wait a second Pinks! What does this have to do with Ariadne being the Mistress of labyrinths?”
Well you see dear wonderful darling, while we know very little about Minoan religion because Mycenaeans (we will get to those bastards in a second), we do know this:
All the religious figures appear to be exclusively women.
The most important figures of their religion seem to be goddesses as there are few artifacts featuring male gods.
Because of the religion, the culture may have been an equal society or even a matriarchy! Historians who are male aren’t sure. 
A frankly ridiculous amount of their temples, including the ones in caves in the middle of fuck-all feature labyrinths. A lot of labyrinths!
Their head god is a goddess! Whose temples have labyrinths and whose main symbols are snakes and bulls. Who do we know is a) the mistress of labyrinths and b) is symbolized a lot by snakes and bulls?
ARI-fucking-ADNE THAT’S WHO!
Ariadne didn’t upgrade by marrying the prince of Olympus! Dionysus wifed up possibly the most important goddess in all of Crete and becoming her boy-toy! 
I’m not even kidding, most Minoan depictions of the goddess’ consort features a boy/man who cycles through the stages of death. Dionysus himself in several myths goes through the same cycle - life, being crushed, death, rebirth, repeat.  Cycles the consort goes through in Minoan legend depictions too!
Okay, that’s great, but what does that have to do with the Mycenaeans? Why do you want to single-handedly go back in time and strangle the beta-Greeks with the nearest belt?
Everything I just said about Ariadne being a Minoan goddess, the Mistress of Labyrinths being hella important on Minoa, is all theoretical. The Mycenaeans are partially to blame for making it theoretical. 
Minoa thrived for 2000 years but it had a lot of issues, mostly caused by natural disasters. Towards the end of their civilization (1500 BC-ish), the nearby island of Thera, today known as Santorini, decided to blow up. The island was a hella-active volcano that when erupted, destroyed a lot. 
How big was the eruption? Well when Pompeii was wasted by Mt. Vesuvius, the blast was heard from roughly 120 miles away, 200 km. 
The blast on Thera was heard from 3000 miles away. 4800 km away.
Fuck me, the environmental effects of the explosion were felt in imperialistic CHINA.
Holy shit that would waste anybody! And it did! Minoa went from being a powerhouse in the Mediterranean to scrambling to recover from losing 40,000 citizens and who knows how many cities. Tsunamis may have followed the blast, further destroying ports which for a navy-powerhouse of an island nation is a bad thing and the theorized temperature drops caused by a cloud of ash lingering for a while would have destroyed crops for the year.
Minoa was fucked. 
The Mycenaeans and all their bullshit made it worse.
Up until a few hundred years prior to Thera’s explosion, Minoan artifacts don’t depict much in terms of military power. Why would it? Crete is a natural defense post. Sheer cliffs, high mountains and a few semi-fortified areas would make it pointless to invade. It’s only when the Mycenaeans in all their bullshit decided to attack/compete that Minoa really needed any army to speak of.
Guess who decided to invade while Minoa was reeling from an incredibly shitty year? Mycenaea!
Guess who won?
Also Mycenaea!
Nobody knows how this shit went down though because wouldn’t you know it, the Mycenaeans in all their superiority-complex glory decided to destroy most written accounts about Minoa, a good junk of the temples and culturally eliminated most of Minoan beliefs. 
Minoa isn’t even the real name of the civilization! It’s just the name Arthur Evans, the guy who re-motivate interest in Minoan archaeology, gave to the civilization because the writings that would have included the name of the civilization were destroyed.
“That sucks!” Fuck yes that sucks! “What does that have to do with Ariadne though?”
Oh ho ho. Strap in because you’re about to be pissed. 
Those of us unfortunate enough to be aware of all the bullshit the Christians pulled on the European pagan belief system are familiar with the concept of cultural, religious destruction. There’s a special name for it I don’t know but if I did I would curse it to be absorbed by the horrendous will of fungi. 
An example: Christianity was not the most popular of religions amongst the Vikings. A monotheistic religion that is heavily controlled did not strongly appeal to anyone with a pantheon as rad as the Norse one. 
In order to appeal to the Vikings, what monks would do is they would write down traditionally Viking stories which up until that point were orally passed down. Beowulf, the story of the most Viking Viking to have every Vikinged, was one of these first stories. 
However! Did these monks write Beowulf as closely to the original oral transcript as possible? Of course not! They took liberties! While Norse features such as trolls and dragons and all sorts of Norse magic occur, there is a lot of Christian features added in. 
This happened across all Pagan religions that Christianity came into contact with in Europe. Stories would be altered when written down to be more Christian (this happened to the Greek Pantheon too btw), holidays that were Pagan magically lined up with ones the Vatican just happened to suddenly have. Even names of mythological figures were taken and added onto Christian figure names. Consequently, a lot of pagan religions they did this to got erased over time, with many of their traditions and details being lost forever, and the details we do know being tinted by Christianity.
The Mycenaeans were likely no different. 
Minoa and Mycenaea were as culturally opposite as can be. Minoa is theorized to be a matriarchal or equal society*. Mycenaea and most of early Greece absolutely was not. In fact, during early stages of their religion where they believed in reincarnation, the Mycenaeans believed the worst thing to come back as was a woman. 
Did you get that? With your options ranging from man to ever single animal on Earth, a woman was ranked as beneath literal animals in Mycenaean society.
Fuck the Mycenaeans.
* This is not to say Minoa was without fault, as a society that is matriarchal or equal can still have rampant issues such as privilege, classism, racism, sexism and more, but when history has a shortage of civilizations that didn’t treat women like shit, you find yourself rooting for them more. 
 What do you do then, when you take over a society that is very much the opposite of a nightmare of a patriarchy? You fold their beliefs into your own to bait them into yours. Going back to the Linear B line about “Mistress of Labyrinths” that line would/could have been an early tactic of incorporating Minoan belief into Mycenaean belief. Other goddesses and gods were made into aspects of Mycenaean gods. Bristomartis, the Minoan goddess of the hunt, would become Artmeis. Velchanos, a god of the sky, would become Zeus. 
With more time, the religion shifted more into Mycenaean and eventually into ancient Greece as we know it. Through trade other gods and goddesses would continue to shift and change, some being straight up imported (Aphrodite for example). Dionysus himself changed a lot too, going from a God representing freedom and attracting slaves, women and those with limited power into his cult, to a God of parties for the wealthy. 
Theseus and the Minotaur was a myth likely based on a Mycenaean myth based on a Minoan myth that changes Ariadne from an important, possibly the important goddess of an ancient religion and relegates her to a side character in a pantheon so vast that she would be lost within it. 
All of this brings us to today. Today, where as soon as work ended I spent most of the day, as well as the past two days, looking up everything I can on Minoan civilization and added it to my notes. Spite is fueling me to write two possible different stories for two different fandoms where Minoa dunks of Mycenaea and it is giving me life. Expect an update within the next two weeks folks as I lose control of my writing life once more. 
In summary: Ariadne deserves more respect, fuck the public education system for skipping over the good parts of Greek mythology instead of the r*pey as shit parts, the Mycenaeans can eat my shorts, and a world were Minoa became the predominant power instead of Greece would be an amazing world to live in.
Thank you for coming to my TedTalk. Pink out. 
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thirstybtsthoughts · 4 years
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Angry/Pissed off BTS
To my lovely followers - thank you for all your input on this! I hope you enjoy reading each others ideas!
Namjoon
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Seeing that angry Namjoon post is making think that all I want is for him to fuck me from behind while having one hand wrapped around my throat and spanking my ass with his other while calling me a bad girl and making me cum over and over until I’m a sobbing mess 😩 Daddy Joonie got me fucked uuuuuuppp!! - anon
Imagine Namjoon is performing at a concert and he looks into the audience to see you flashing him your tits cheekily. Though no-one else noticed, too busy enjoying the show, he is infuriated and seeks you out angrily after the show. He takes you home and ties you up on the bed, edging you for hours using his mouth and cock as a punishment - Bunny 🐰 
Imagine Joon being super pissed off after an interview because they asked stupid questions, so he takes his frustration out on you, pulling you into the nearest closet room and making you get on your knees to suck him off, thrusting into your mouth ruthlessly. Then he cums in your mouth and tells you to swallow like a good girl. - Bunny 🐰 
Seokjin
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Jin always gets "fake" mad, mostly cus he just wants to make others laugh, he isnt trying to be that serious! But u just know that when its on, ITS ON! He doesnt look like the type too would be a rough dom but if you push his buttons HE WILL SNAP! He'll punish u for being such a brat, fuck u face down in the matress, spank u until ur ass is red and sore and grab u by the neck so you'll stay down and finish in ur bare back!!! But then he'll check if ur okay cus hes a gentleman ~knee anon
Tbh I can't see Jin getting angry easily but what would make him angry imo is you spending waayyyy too much time with one of the members and laughing at the member's jokes too much, chosing to sit next to them and not Jin, maybe not giving Jin enough attention so he'd just grab you and drag you to the bedroom to fuck you mercilessly till you forget everything except his name - anon
Imagine Jin being your Dom, being bratty and misbehaving for him, his voice goes quiet as he gets angry. He spanks you then teases and edges you for hours as punishment, leaving you whimpering and begging, and the whole time he has this angry smirk going. Maybe he chokes you at some point too, and after he’s done with you, he makes you blow him, pulling on your hair to make you take him deeper (rough angry Dom Jin is dreamy as anything) - anon
Yoongi
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Omg I can totally imagine Yoongi being angry at you in the studio, because you're not hitting the notes/singing the way he wants you to. So he finally just has enough and fucks you over his desk and maybe even possibly records your moans for another song of his...  - baby boy
Imagine Yoongi thinks he’s been making progress flirting with you only he overheard your friend teasing you about it and you’re embarrassed so you’re dismissive like, “He’s just a baby-faced little shit who likes messing w/people” so Yoongi waits until he can corner you and prove he’s not messing around at all. - anon
Angry Yoongi oouuff!! I can imagine him in his studio seething at some stupid vlive comment or something like that and then I visit him there bcuz i was missing him for some days and he ends up releasing his anger by roughly fucking me in his studio couch🥴🥵  - anon
Hoseok
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Angry J-Hope? You mean, sweaty, aggressive J-Hope in a private, 1-2-1 dance practise, late at night - frustrated at how you keep messing up until finally he grabs you and shows you how to do the move by posing you, except now you're face to face, panting, and he ends up punishment-fucking you there in front of/pressed against the big mirrors? THAT angry Hope? - anon
Broskis hobi when he's reviewing dance choreos ya know that face? Now that for pissed off hobi. Like he would just give you that look and you would already be sinking to your knees in front of him - anon
Hobi angry scenario: either he's trying to teach you a new dance routine & you keep failing &it pisses him off bc he showed it to you so many times so he just pins you against him &leads you through it roughly with great emphasis on moving the hips so he finally forces you to ride him just to show him that you can actually move your hips OR he's at an award show watching you do a sexy performance with someone else after you told him you wouldn't do it & he's so pissed he fucks you backstage - anon
Jimin
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One good way to piss off Jimin would be to send him a nude or dirty text right before he goes on stage. I wonder what he'd do after the concert.  - anon
I remember once tae said jimin is the scariest when angry and i really cant get that out of my mind now! I feel like he would just ignore you if you are horny but he is still mad, give you the silence treatment only to make you want him more and get more desperate! And he is secretly horny to, palmimg himself when you arent looking, but he would never admit it cus its just so much more fun to watch you beg, all desperate for his cock😩 - anon
Angry Jimin- you've done something dangerous and,as he cares about you,you will be taught a lesson,you'll learn to obey.Oh,the edging,his tongue nowhere near your core,the whispered swearing in your ear with that delicious accent, fingering you with 4fingers until you become a sobbing pliant mess and promise to behave. His quiet "finally" as he fish-hooks your cheek with the fingers coated in your juices and pounds you mercilessly as you taste yourself and come mumbling 'thank you sir's☺ - anon
Taehyung
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bro taehyung when he's mad. the growls and grunts the faces he'd make ohmygod ㅠㅠ them big ass hands spanking you, choking you, manhandling you. like either 1) he'd do all the work - missionary so his thighs literally smack against your hips - or doggy thighs againt ass n spanking hairpulling or 2) he'd make you work for it so you'd be on top and he'd just be laying there hands folded behind his head and you would be whining tf out or doggy again and you'd fuck yourself on him - anon
Just thinking about teasing Tae until we get home and he’s so pissed off/worked up. He just gives that stare and unbuckles his belt. He wouldn’t even need to say anything and I’d be on my knees - anon
Here's a scenario for an angry Taehyung; you had challenged tae to see how long he can go without sex but within a few days you were so needy but he won't giving in, so you thought that maybe he needed abit of a push. You went up to kookie, sat by him and put your legs over his. Jungkook was startled and gave you a puzzled look so you whispered into he's ear explaining the situation.. you put your hands on his chest. It really didn't take much for tae to get pissed. You could feel his gaze on you and you looked at him and mouthed "fuck me now". He got up in a instant to you by your wrist and headed straight to the bedroom ... 🤡🤡🤡 - anon
Jungkook
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Imagine getting tied up by Kookie because you disobeyed him and made him angry… so he ends up tying you up and torturing you with toys for hours… completely stopping before you can cum… he’d be smirking the entire time with his arms crossed, licking his lips and every so often leaving a hickey on you somewhere… and then when he feels like you deserve it, he’d take out the toys and eat you out until you come undone from his tongue… - baby boy
My angry idea of Kookie is during a day when they are super busy. And it's early in the day but he cant do anything till way late in the evening. I'll spend the first half of the day trying to turn him on, hot stolen kisses, inappropriate touches and I'll pull away exactly when he doesn't want me to and act like I've done nothing. The second half of the day id flirt with someone else in front of JK and ignore him COMPLETELY, making sure that by the time we can get home he's MAD AF with me - anon
So I really like playing Overwatch, and I just imagined me and Kookie in a tournament or something, and me accidentally losing the game for us, so later on he comes over and angrily fucks me over my computer desk because of how pissed he is at me for losing 😳😳😶😶 - baby boy
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rainandhotchocolate · 4 years
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Hi! :) Can I request a Sirius x Reader where they’ve left Hogwarts (they’re about 19 years old) and are in the order, reader and Sirius are in a heated argument bc Sirius keeps flirting with other girls. Reader gets called out on a mission for the order and as she storms out Sirius shouts something like “I hate u” (or something similar) and then the reader gets a severely injured on the mission for the order and when she comes back Sirius is freaking out and they apologise and make up 💕 Ty! :)
A/N YES I WROTE IT TODAY  hope you enjoy bbg
About what I said last night.
Y/N tapped her fingers against the rough wooden surface at Alice and Frank apartment, the persistent noise catching Alice’s attention.
“Hey love, I know you’re not trying to but you’re about to dig a hole through my kitchen table,” Alice smiled knowingly at her, sitting down beside Y/N who grimaced apologetically.
“Sorry, I didn’t realise.” Y/N pulled her head away from where she had been staring, avidly trying to keep her eyes from straying back.
“What’s going on Y/N, you’ve been tense for weeks.” Alice leaned onto her hand, her deep blue nails showing up against her pale skin. Y/N sighed, her eyes flicking back towards the fireplace where Sirius and Marlene were standing. It wasn’t like Y/N didn’t know Sirius was like this, it was one of the reasons she had fallen for him in the first place, his blatant flirting and confidence just seemed to draw people in. Alice had followed her gaze and pursed her lips.
“Ahh.”
“Please don’t say anything, I just, it’s just so frustrating.” Y/N huffed, giving up on trying to avoid looking over and turning her head back to them. Sirius had his hand on Marlene’s shoulder and was grinning at her as she laughed loudly. Y/N had been catching bits of their conversation earlier, Sirius had been complimenting Marlene’s new platinum hair, wondering if she’d picked up many boys being a blonde. Y/N had brought it up a few times in the past, how he seemed to flirt with girls at parties and forget to mention he had been in a relationship for the past four years. Marlene always seemed to hurt the most though, they’d hooked up a few times before he asked Y/N out and watching them fall back into old patterns made Y/N feel like she’d just become invisible.
“You know I won’t, but if I’m going to be honest, if that was Frank I’d give him a right slap,” Alice raised an eyebrow as Sirius picked at a lock of Marlene’s hair before pulling Y/N’s attention back to her. “But you know he loves you, right? Even if he’s a bit of an idiot.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N dismissed her, grabbing at a sausage roll and spinning around on the chair slowly.
They left Alice and Franks’ around 12, after James had accidentally smashed part of the shed whilst trying to test a new spell that created fake snow and creating hail instead. They apparated back to Sirius’ apartment, a small one bedroom with open plan kitchen and living room that was covered in records and Sirius’ favourite muggle and magical bands hanging across the room. Y/N had been trying to calm herself down for the last 30 minutes, to no avail, and cringed when Sirius faced her with a knowing look.
“What’s wrong.”
“Nothing,” Y/N pushed passed him and hung up her coat, placing her bag on the couch and avoiding his stare.
“Bullshit, you’ve been dodging me all evening, come on, Y/N.” Sirius was always upfront when he was being confrontational, like he needed to take the upper hand in case things went awry.
“It’s really nothing, I just… you and Marlene-“
“Are you kidding me, this again?” Sirius huffed and Y/N felt the anger bubble in her chest as he cut her off.
“You were the one who mentioned it! I was just trying to tell you whats going on.”
“Do you not trust me or something? Is that it?” Sirius threw his coat off, pacing across the room. Y/N stared at him, gaping.
“Where the fuck did you get that from?” Y/N could feel the anger bubbling to the surface but she was no longer bothering to push it back down, her voice rising.
“You keep bringing this up as if I can’t be trusted, like I’m going around hitting on girls every minute of the day.” Sirius flung his arms up in defeat, huffing loudly.
“That’s because you bloody are!” Y/N yelled this time, getting frustrated. How dare he put this on her. “I just go around putting up with it, sorry if I’d prefer my boyfriend didn’t flirt with other girls.”
“I’m not flirting! I’m just having a laugh for Merlin’s sake.”
“Oh yeah? Ask that to the fifty numbers you’ve gotten to the girls you have conveniently forgotten to tell about me.”
“Fifty numbers?” Sirius gave her an exasperated look but Y/N stood her ground. She could feel all the frustration she’d been pushing down boiling over into her glare, her hiss.
“I’m just sick of feeling like I’m an afterthought.”
“I’m done with this fight, Y/N, I can’t bloody talk about it anymore.” Sirius turned away from her, heading towards the bathroom. Y/N stalked after him.
“We haven’t even spoken about it!” Y/N felt like screaming, how wasn’t he getting it.
“For fucks sake, Y/N! I can’t do this if you can’t trust me!”
“I just want to feel like you’re not looking for a fucking back up every time we go out!”
“I can’t deal with this right now, I’m meant to be –”
“We never deal with this stuff, we never deal with anything cause you can’t deal with conflict,” Y/N regretted it as she said it, Sirius’ eyes widening. Y/N had thought it before, Sirius’ deflecting, his constant confidence and banter. It had taken a whole year for Sirius to tell her he loved her, and another month before he could look her in the eye when he said it. It was like he was constantly needing to place a barrier between himself and anyone he might care about, in case they turn out like his parents.
“Get out,” Sirius hissed, his voice low and cold. Y/N didn’t move, shocked at what he said.
“What?” Y/N lowered her voice, unsure if she’d heard him right.
“I said, get the fuck out of my house, Y/N,” he raised his voice again and Y/N had to physically step back as he seemed to stand taller, looming above her. Y/N stared at him, her heart pounding loudly. Then she shook her head, breathing heavily and grabbing her coat, slamming her way out of his house and onto the streets of London.
Y/N woke up to a hand on her shoulder, shaking her softly.
“Y/N? We need to get up.” Alice’s voice drifted into her head and she blinked a few times before she could see Alice, fully dressed, standing above her. “Dumbledore’s called us in.”
Y/N was awake now. She pulled herself off the couch and slipped into her clothes from last night, piling up the blankets Frank had given her back onto the couch before Alice leaded her to their back step and they apparated to the location Dumbledore had sent.
They landed on the edge of a field, large oak trees on the horizon. Y/N spotted Lily waving them over a few steps away, standing at the corner of what looked like a very quiet main road. Alice and Y/N moved quickly over towards her, their breath puffing out in the icy cold morning air.
“Morning, girls,” Lily greeted them, wrapped in a large green coat and matching beanie. Y/N raised an eyebrow and Lily huffed in response. “James thought it would bring out my eyes. Shut up.”
“Anyway, Dumbledore has some intel about an attack on this muggle town this morning. He wants us to keep an eye out and deter it.” Alice whispered to the two of them as they leant casually against the stone wall behind them, Lily pulling out a packet of cigarettes and handing them around.
“Should we split up then, do rounds and meet up here every hour?” Y/N sucked in, breathing out softly and letting the cigarette warm her up from the inside.
“Sounds good,” Lily nodded to the right, “I’ll head this way, Alice you take the centre and Y/N the left. See you lot in an hour, send sparks if you need us.”
The three girls split up, not saying goodbye and moving calmly throughout the streets. As it was only about 5am, the streets were silent excluding a few dog-walkers and early morning commuters. Y/N smiled to a small shaggy dog that was bounding down the street far ahead of his owner who still looked like they were half-asleep. Y/N walked up and down each street cautiously, careful to cover her face as much as was normal with her scarf and beanie as she roamed her section of the town, making a note of the small alley ways she glanced down and anywhere that would be easy for someone to arrive unnoticed. Anytime she reached a street that was empty she cast protection spells against the front of the muggle houses to stop anyone from being able to directly apparate inside.
They got through the first two rounds with nothing to report except their tally of dogs passed per hour. Y/N rounded the corner on the edge of town the third time around slowed when she saw movement at the edge of a small alley that she had checked down previously and noted no entrances from it. She edged down the street carefully, her hand pressed tightly around the wand in her pocket.
Voices were drifting towards Y/N but she couldn’t quite make out what was being said. She held back before she reached the entrance to the alley way, pressing herself against the wall and making sure that no one was coming up the opposite direction. Suddenly she was pressed against the cold brick of the lane, her head pushed back and wand sticking into her neck.
“Been watching you,” A cold voice hissed in her ear. She could barely look down, a hand holding her head up roughly, the back of her skull beginning to throb dully. Y/N had kept her hand in her pocket and continued to grip tightly on her wand praying for the moment when she could put out sparks without getting accidently killed. Or purposely killed.
“I think we’ve found ourselves one of Dumbledore’s lovely women,” The person turned their head to the side, calling to an accomplice and Y/N took the bare second to pull her hand out of her pocket and blast red sparks into the air.
‘Expelliarmus!’ another voice yelled and Y/N felt her wand fly out of her hand and towards her right and her head getting pulled forwards and back against the bricks, sharp pain shooting up the back of her head and neck as she groaned loudly. Her vision was going blurry, eyes watering, the wand getting pushed harder into her neck.
“An annoying one apparently,” The voice at her ear hissed again and this time Y/N thought she recognised the taunting voice of Dolohov and felt her whole body tense. “She might need a bit of a harder time in questioning.”
Dolohov pulled the back of her hair tightly and pulled her along and down the alley way so that she was out of sight from the main street. Y/N screamed in agony, the grip pulling at the skin that had torn when she slammed into the wall, stumbling backwards and keeping her feet from slipping under and giving in all her weight to Dolohov. She saw the vague outline of another person standing beside her when she was thrown back to the ground.
“Hello, precious, I think I’ve seen yo-“ before the other death eater could continue Y/N pushed all of her weight into the back of her shoulders and kicked forwards, slamming them into their knees as hard as she could, her back scraping roughly against the concrete as they stumbled back.
And then it felt like all of her body was on fire. Every inch of her body suddenly wanted to not-exist, pure pain coursing through her very veins. A loud aching scream pierced the air and took a few moments for Y/N to realise it was coming from herself, her muscles spasming into positions she didn’t realise she could get into.
“Stupefy,” Lily’s voice rang around the laneway, Y/N’s body relaxing as a body went flying above her. Y/N could feel herself shaking uncontrollably, but desperately tried to inch herself out of the way and towards her wand which she’d spotted near the draining system to her left.
Spells were now flying around the alley way, both Alice and Lily dodging the two death eaters who had found positions beside the large dumpster for cover. Y/N breathed heavily but continued to move, keeping low as to avoid any rogue hexes, reaching for her wand slowly when crunch.
Y/N screamed again as a large boot stamped its way onto her hand, the small bones cracking from pressure. Y/N looked up to see a woman grinning at her, her dark eyes flashing maliciously before she was slammed backwards from another spell.
Y/N felt tears dripping down her face once more, her heart beating dangerously as she felt herself go into shock, trying to calm herself down.
“Incacerous!” Alice pointed her wand towards the unconscious death eater, slumped against the back wall, Dolohov disapparating on the spot. “Fuck, we missed him.”
Lily swept her wand around her head and a doe appeared by her side.
“Send for Dumbledore, tell him to get an auror here now.”
The patronus stalked away from her and disappeared into a ball of blue light. Alice had begun running towards Y/N, Lily following close after.
“Y/N are you ok?”
“Not at all,” Y/N gasped, closing her eyes as nausea began to wave over her.
“OK, we need to get you back to headquarters now, Lily are you ok to keep an eye on this one until the aurors get here?” Alice conjured a stretcher from thin air, flicking her wand again and lifting Y/N onto it so that her body was remaining flat.
“Definitely, get her fixed up. I’ll come check on you later ok?” Lily gave Y/N’s not crushed hand a squeeze and waved them off as Alice apparated them away, landing on the doorstep of Dumbledore’s safe house and pulling the door open. They were immediately greeted with a flurry of people, everyone turning on Y/N when they saw her, blood still trickling from the back of her head and shaking subtly on the stretched.
“Holy shit.”
“What happened?”
“Get her inside now.”
“I’m grabbing Sirius.”
Y/N felt herself drifting inside and towards the large living room where they had set up medical supplies and potions along the side of the wall. Y/N felt almost numb, her entire body throbbing as she was poked and prodded and lifted her head to pour potions down her throat. At one point she felt her body being pulled upright and leant against the back of a chair as someone began to work on the back of her head.
Loud voices began to find their way into the room, getting louder and louder as someone was storming towards them.
“I need to see her.”
“Sirius, mate, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Don’t you fucking dare block that door, James, so help me I will hex you out of the way.”
“Sirius, they need to work in there.”
“Let me see, Y/N, NOW!” Sirius boomed, the door swinging open to reveal James holding his hands up to let Sirius push past. Y/N saw him through blurry eyes rushing towards her, accidentally hitting a couple of people as he slid in front of her and picked up her unbandaged hand.
“Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry, are you ok? Merlin I feel sick – is she ok?” Sirius looked up to whoever was standing over Y/N.
“She’ll be ok, the back of her head is a flesh would but it’s taking more time than we expected to heal because of a cruciate-“
“The what?! Crucio?” Sirius gripped tighter onto Y/N’s hand, his voice shaking. “Who did this to her, I’m going to kill –”
“No you’re not,” Remus’ voice came into focus, “Here’s some chocolate, she’s going to need it after we’re done here.”
He passed it over to Sirius who didn’t look over, keeping his swirling grey eyes on Y/N’s.
“Y/N, are you ok? What can I do? I’m… I –“ His voice broke again. Y/N felt the spell that pressed against her skull, healing the wound. “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t sleep, I wanted to come visit you at Alice’s but then Frank and. I hope you know I never meant to hurt you, I’m so sorry, please be ok.”
Sirius was shaking almost as much as Y/N now, his body pressing up against hers. Y/N could feel her consciousness returning, the pepperup potion slowly doing its job. She blinked a couple of times, trying to take in the room. A lot of the other order members had filtered out to give them some privacy, leaving only Remus and James who were muttering over the medical station.
“I just, I struggle letting you in – anyone in, I just fuck, I can’t stop thinking about what I said.”
“It’s ok,” Y/N mumbled, struggling to move her mouth. “I know, Sirius.”
“No, it’s not ok. You could have died, you can’t die on me Y/N I don’t know what I’d do –”
Y/N pulled him in closer with her free hand, closing her eyes and breathing him in.
“I love you so much, Y/N.” Sirius muttered into her shoulder, his arms wrapping tightly across her waist.
“I love you too, Sirius.”  
He pulled away, brushing his hand across her cheek taking in a deep breath. Ok, everything was ok.
Taglist:  @averytruerayofsunshine @siriuslyjanhvi @blushingskywalker @blackpinkdolan @thebabblingbookworm @cherrie511 @imlukesnirvana​ @avengersassemblee​ @maraudersandco​ @sly-vixen-up2nogood​ @katbernoulli @sirius-lysad​ @evyiione​ @minerva26love​ @aikeia​@gollyderek​ @greatwombatblaze​  @songforhema​  @your-typical-giggle @myownviperroom @hermionie-is-my-queen @demiwitch527
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fluffynexu · 4 years
Text
Astralignment
and the Korribani Calendar System
Before the arrival of the Exiles the native Sith on Korriban had their own system of keeping track of time. Over the years, this became standardized and refined and is still in use by a large portion of the modern Pureblood community. Since the ancient Sith were observant beings of their world, many of the names and symbols reflected their natural environment. All of these aspects go into what is known as a Sith’s astralignment (astro-alignment).
Since the Empire runs on Imperial Standard Time (IST), anything relating to Korriban or any other Imperial world is referred by the local time of that planet.
Compare a year on  Dromund Kaas to Korriban:
Dromund Kaas (everything in standard)
24 hours/day
312 days/year
7,488 hours/year
60 minutes = 1 hour
24 hours = 1 day
5 days = 1 week
7 weeks = 1 month
35 days = 1 month
8 months (+4 weeks and 4 holidays) = 1 year
312 (standard)days = 1 year
Korriban
28 (standard) hours/day
780 (local) days/year
21,840 (standard) hours/year
70 (standard and local) minutes = 1 hour
24 (local) hours = 1 day
10 (local) days = 1 week
6.5 (local) weeks = 1 month
65 (local) days = 1 month
12 (local) months = 1 year
780 (local) days = 1 year
This roughly makes 1 Korribani year approximately 2.9 [Dromund] Kaasi years.
Calendars
The days on Korriban are annotated on some versions of the Imperial calendar alongside the standard days.
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In this example, names of the days on the calendar reflect the IST. The black numbers indicate the date in IST, the red numbers represent the date of the Korribani calendar. Placement of the Korribani date indicate when that day begins in relation to the Kaasi one.
A. 00:00 is the same for both. B. 00:00 K starts at 04:00 DK. C. 00:00 K starts at 08:00 DK. D. 00:00 K starts at 12:00 DK. E. 00:00 K starts at 16:00 DK. F. 00:00 K starts at 20:00 DK. G. Loops back around and 00:00 K lines up 00:00 DK .
While seemingly complicated to some, most Sith have grown with this system of overlapping calendars and can easily tell the date by the positioning of the numbers in this format. 
There are of course, electronic versions where the date is shown simply:
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Since the Korribani month is longer than the Kaasi one, the dates will continue through the Kaasi months. These next two pictures show how long 1 Korribani month is in relation to a Kaasi one.
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There is also a version of the Korribani calendar that does not overlap with IST. These are used locally on the planet.
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The days of the Korribani week were named after major gods from the most widespread pantheon on the planet:
Ahmuriq, from Ahmurn: the creator god.
Marseriq, from Marserha: mother goddess of the Sith.
Bashariq, from Bashara: goddess of passion.
Teraiq, from Teral: god of protection and justice.
Iskarliq, from Iskarln: god(dess) of conflict and war.
Marduriq, from Mardur: patron god of the Massassi and strength.
Rusaniq, from Rusanel: goddess of knowledge.
Zefiriq, from Zefir: goddess of the hunt.
Shumariq, from Shumari: god of the harvest.
Goruiq, from Gorul: the trickster god(dess).
Months
There are numerous constellations in the Korribani sky. Twelves of these mark the months of the year as well as going into the astalignment. The 12 major, monthly constellations all depict local fauna from ancient fables and have certain characteristics that are commonly associated with them.
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1. Yuninchâtsutuyok, the jiminat and agzonûboj engaged in eternal conflict. Dedicated, ambitious, and insightful.
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2. Qyalatuyok, the qyalak. Calm, sentimental, and inquisitive.
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3. Badzuriqatuyok, the badzuriqash. Tenacious, practical, and direct.
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4. Kaarjontuyok, the kaarjontû. Spontaneous, contemplative, and observant.
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5. Tukatatuyok, the tukata. Loyal, respectful, and staunch.
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6. Hatyatuyok, the hatya. Articulate, perceptive, and adaptable.
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7. Lomaituyok, the lomait. Disciplined, fearless, and competitive.
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8. Dzushatuyok, the dzushaj. Private, calculating, and flexible.
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9. Mowhetuyok, the mowhef. Stern, traditional, and ruthless.
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10. Dyaltituyok, the dyaltir. Mischievous, studious, and charismatic.
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11. Jhan’dikanatuyok, the lost dikana. Creative, sociable, and resourceful.
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12. Niqoituyok, the niqoit. Erudite, cunning, and free-spirited.
Years
The years are also represented by local animals. No one, not even Sith scholars or historians, are sure of the origin of how these animals came to represent the years on Korriban’s calendar. It is one of the many parts of Sith culture that have been lost since it is believed this particular record has been passed down through oral tellings.
The years are kept track of in a 6-year cycle with each year emphasizing a likely success for the ones born in that year.
Chiroik - Wealth
Wokinai - Knowledge
Natûsh - Fame
Dzenal - Influence
Litskoj - Power
Sulemish - Longevity
(ie. Those born in the year of the Sulemish will have a long life.) This again factors into a Sith’s astralignment.
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In addition to the years, these 6 animals are also used for the hours on Korriban. But time is not conveyed in the same manner as Basic. While in Basic one would simply say “14:25” (or two twenty-five in the afternoon) the Sith have a much more involved way to convey time.
For example: Shyracks screech and return to their caves as the priestess prepares the altar in the hour of the wokinai.
Translates to: 07:15 local time (or seven fifteen in the morning).
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As a side note, a few centuries ago Darth Feras domesticated and bred wrats within the Empire. At first they weren’t seen with much interest by her peers. But popular rumor has it that she pointed out her creations embody the physical traits of the yearly beasts.
Eyes - Chiroik
Ears - Wokinai
Body - Natûsh
Hands - Dzenal
Feet - Litskoj
Tail - Sulemish
Afterwards they quickly became a favored pet and companion among the Sith, being seen as an auspicious animal.
While not related to their calendar there is a tradition of being assigned a birth flower. For this, the Sith do not look to their skies but rather, when a child is born the placenta is buried in a pot with 12 seeds. The first of these seeds to sprout becomes that Sith’s birth flower. These 12 flowers are also used in medicine, therapeutic or preventive, for some common ailments.
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Serla for headaches.
Roshal for good eyesight.
Nashkir for sore throats.
Atsudqâ for heart health.
Hyaranjat for good digestion.
Mûyoin for muscle pain.
Shasâyar for fertility.
Jûzon for blood circulation.
Ashanin for bone mending.
Qoyo for fevers.
Chisiqsanu for irritated ridge skin.
Kûsk’inti for fatigue and replenishing energy.
The last two parts that go into a Sith’s astalignment are their energies. The weekly energies correspond with 4 classic “elements” of earth, fire, air, and water. While the daily energy simply refers to day or night (d/n) in regards to when the person was born.
Combined with all aspects mentioned in this document, year, month, weekly energy, day (+energy), and flower, one can study a Sith’s astalignment.  ex. Darth Vowrawn’s astalignment factors:
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The study of these astralignments is a complicated field on to its own while the findings can be very important to some among the Sith. There are specialized scholars who offer their services to the old families so that the “perfect matches” (marriage, business, or otherwise) can be set up.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
aaaaahhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT’S DONE. i feel like frodo at mt. doom after the ring is destroyed omg... ;-;
SOOOO. i wanted, and i mean REALLY wanted, to finish this for lunar new year (for pretty obvious reasons lol)...... :,) welp. then i was like “i can do may 4″ lol NOPE. but here we are! still technically sith day? whatever. imma say I Did It. :D
also pls don’t laugh at my stupid drawings. i already know i can’t art. ok??? >,<
special thanks to @snootysith​ for giving me a bunch of sithy names and words for me to use. c: like y’all... coming up with fake words, that look and sound ok is really HARD (for my dumbass anyway)
other worldbuilding posts that are... sorta mentioned/used in this:
@inquisitorhotpants​‘s dk calendar
BOOS! x3
and some other stuff ....
but uh, yea. if you’re wondering “hang on there fluffy... did you really make a big, dumbass zodiac/astrology post??” the answer is...
yes.
yes i did... xU
but also i imagine the ancient sith had a lot of special and important dates for you know... religious things? *shrug* and over the many, many years all of this was passed down and prob altered in some way to fit into modern sith society? idk...
now imma say some things here bc i know For A Fact!!! that ppl don’t go onto original posts to read op tags on this hellsite lol.
and this isn’t me trying to sound like an arrogant asshole... but these are for some common questions that’ll undoubtedly come up:
yes, you can use this in any extent or manner.
no, you obvs don’t have to. ignore it if you want. i’ll be ok lol.
no, i’m not gonna write a long ass book with all the little details on every aspect of all the traits and then assign these things for your character(s). just make something up. that’s what i did here xD (plus my brain is d e a d from this)
yes, this is seen as a mostly(!) tomato pureblood sith thing but obvs attitudes are different between individuals. some are super into it, some could careless and think it’s all fake news, some have parents that care too much about it which is annoying and interfering with their life so they lowkey hate it lol.
no, i couldn’t do a read more bc it wouldn’t look as nice and i worked hard ok? ;-; i apologize for clogged dashes in advance.
i think that’s it? ofc feel free to hmu if you’re ok with a reply that can take anywhere from a few min to 3 business days ^-^;
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quidfree · 4 years
Note
tdbk hurt/comfort?
writing this just made me think about my long-running theory that principal nezu is a mastermind villain who is taking out his grudge on humanity via slowly destroying the next generation of heroes bc how ELSE can you explain the amount of personal injury-lawsuits-that-never-were within UA’s supervision 
anyways i would have made this w shouto injured but i feel like IGFTD already has enough of bakugou babysitting him so *reverse uno*
(definitely not at all thinking abt the latest updates of the manga aha..ha)
it’s hardly the first time shouto has seen bakugou get his ass beat. he doesn’t have midoriya’s abysmal track record, but midoriya mostly destroys himself; bakugou tends to get battered by external forces. now that he’s thinking about it he can’t think of another classmate with worse luck, except maybe mineta, but that’s more punitive justice than anything.
habit is a great deadener, or so he’s read. that may be true on a day-to-day basis, but it does nothing to diminish the gut-punch of worry when bakugou’s explosions stutter to a halt so abruptly that it makes him look up just in time to see him plummeting out of the sky, jagged shard of rock protruding through his chest.
midoriya is yelling from somewhere, panicked cry of ‘kacchan!’ turning into a furious scream midway, and shouto is skating upwards on instinct, ice solidifying beneath his feet, arms extending and pulse thudding with memories of ‘how sad, todoroki shouto’ echoing through his mind. 
not so slow, this time. bakugou knocks right into him, gauntlets and all, heavy enough to knock them both off the ice; it shifts and reforms beneath them as he grapples for a better hold. somewhere above them a berserk midoriya is exploding into green light, blows breaking through the villain’s crumbling shell as the mountainside continues to fall apart; shouto’s hands are slick with what he can only hope is sweat as he rides the ice to safety.
they land roughly between the trees, rumbling from above muffled through the foliage just enough that he can hear bakugou cussing, which he has rarely been so happy to hear. 
“get your damn hands off me, icyhot,” bakugou snaps, as shouto’s heartbeat slows incrementally. when their eyes meet his are uncharacteristically hazy, sweat and grime sticking his hair to his face. 
shouto’s eyes lower, and his gut clenches. 
“stop that,” bakugou demands, as shouto’s ears buzz. the rock has embedded itself in his abdomen, and all around it red is soaking through even the dark materials of his suit, torso slick with blood. 
“bakugou...”
“i’m fine,” bakugou grits out, with unconvincing anger. somewhere distant there is a final sounding boom, and then the ground starts to shake. “worry about the damn- earthquake.”
“shit,” shouto says, under his breath, mind racing. earthquake, and mountain, and- landslide. and bakugou, with a poisoned piece of stone stuck right through him. 
he rises to his knees. when he moves bakugou recoils, smacking his hands away with an alarming lack of violence. 
“bakugou,” shouto says. “i’m not going to leave you behind.”
“worry about your damn self!” bakugou retorts, though his gaze flickers to the mountain above. “you’re not carrying me out of here.”
for a second, panicked frustration overwhelms him; he inhales deeply, stands. 
“fine. come on. get going.”
it’s cruel, really; bakugou’s face twists, and then he’s stumbling to his feet, leaking blood as he does. he barely makes it two steps before he’s swaying violently, face gone sheet-white under the mask. 
silently, shouto hoists an arm under his shoulder. bakugou, jaw clenched tight, looks away. it’s as much of a concession as he’ll get.
ice carries them upwards, over the trees, and he glances backwards to find bakugou’s warnings prescient: the mountain top has deteriorated, great chunks of rock sent spiralling downwards with increasing speed. midoriya and the others are fine, he tells himself. he can’t focus on two things at once.
what he can’t stop himself from focusing on, as they make rapid progress overhead, is the way that bakugou is sagging into his hold, dampness spreading through his suit; the pallor of his cheek and the rasping quality of his breaths. he feels faintly nauseous. 
bakugou isn’t dying. not now. what a stupid, ridiculous way to die this would be- three years into UA, having survived every other ridiculous thing life has thrown their way. dying at the hands of some elemental villain, for the price of diverting his attention from his exhausted classmates. 
fuck, why does this always happen to him? his fingers closing on air as dabi whisks bakugou away- his father in his grip as shigaraki pierces through bakugou right above him- it’s always like this, in his face, like fate derives some personal enjoyment out of his helplessly witnessing bakugou’s near-death experiences. 
he doesn’t realise how tight his grip is getting until bakugou hisses in unwilling pain; he relaxes it a fraction, guilt sickening, as he lowers them towards the rocks. there’s enough height and distance that the landslide won’t reach them- or won’t reach them fast enough to disrupt the process, anyways.
bakugou all-but crumples as soon as they’re on firm ground, folding inwards like a house of cards, and shouto is on his knees besides him instantly, hands fumbling for his medical kit. 
he’s a third year; he shouldn’t be so shaky when it comes to rescues, but his fingers are unsteady. 
“i’m going to have to take that out.”
“rule one of on-site aid,” bakugou rasps. his eyes are half-lidded, torso jerking irregularly as he watches shouto move.
never remove the knife from the stab wound. “i know. but you’ve seen what these rocks do. it’s hurting you worse than the blood loss can.”
“came first on the medical test, but who’s counting,” bakugou mutters. he keeps spasming, face tight with pain, and shouto remembers his brushes with the stone- like having fire ants crawling over your skin, red-hot and vicious. to have that inside of you-
ten minutes, if you’re lucky, aizawa had said. 
“i’m taking it out,” he repeats, redundantly, and wills his hands to stop shaking, ice spreading around the shard as bakugou gasps and flinches. 
“fucking- get off me, you bastard, get-”
he’s freezing around the stone now, forces himself not to react to the wet sounds of ice sliding through blood and organ to wrap itself around the intruding shard. bakugou’s cursing has turned to incoherent noise, and he can’t bring himself to look up, own breathing heavy to his ears as he coils the ice like a hook, tugs softly then harder.
“fuck!” bakugou howls, as he grits his teeth and painstakingly pulls back another fragment; a defensive explosion hits him right in the side, and he pulls too hard on instinct, whole shard yanked free as bakugou screams bloody murder. 
shouto falls back with a piece of rock the size of his forearm in his lap, covered in blood and tissue and ice, almost gets sick at the feel of it. instead he drops it hastily, slams an arm down over the gushing wound as his free hand grabs for the spray. top of the line hero resources; knits any wound back together, hatsume had promised, and why the hell had he trusted hatsume mei of all people with his tech? if this is one of her misses-
he sprays, blood splattering him in the face when he withdraws long enough to do so, and then keeps spraying so violently that his hand cramps, watching tissue knit itself in a disturbing parody of organs as the bleeding slows. 
for a beat he just sits and stares, chest rising and falling. there is still a hole through bakugou, but it’s like it’s been half-sketched in the way it’s supposed to look, veins and muscle and what could be a kidney half-fleshed out within the empty space.
“motherfucker,” bakugou chokes out, tight, and then shoves himself half-upright just in time to throw up off the side of the rock. shouto’s hands have resumed shaking.
bakugou collapses back onto the rock, arms wobbly from the exertion, and for a second he just lies there, shouto’s pulse slowing ever so slightly as he takes in the mess they’re in, blood and guts and ice and some half-mended massacre in bakugou’s abdomen. 
more than ten minutes, though. enough to get actual medical care. that has to be enough. 
“todoroki,” bakugou says. shouto startles, leans over. his gaze is unfocused, hazily attentive.
“am i dying?”
it’s said matter-of-factly; instinctively his stomach turns. 
“no.”
“don’t lie to me.”
“i have never lied to you,” shouto retorts, intent. “you’re not dying.”
bakugou looks at him, brow furrowed deeply with effort as he blinks in frustration. can’t quite muster up the energy to concentrate, shouto assumes. it makes him look oddly like his younger self, all screwed up suspicion.
not dying, shouto tells himself, fiercely. not fucking dying. 
he stomps down the emotion, but he’s lost his touch over the past three years because bakugou’s mouth twitches wryly, eyes briefly sharp. 
“’f i’m not dying what’s with that look?”
“what look?”
“the fucking- hero’s crisis. failed rescue.”
“shut up,” shouto says, abruptly harsh. “that’s not- shut up. you’re not dying.”
“feel like shit though,” bakugou mutters, eyes drifting shut again. 
if the roles were reversed bakugou would have said and you look like it too. but he’s not bakugou, even if he is the only other person in the class that’s as poorly equipped to play nurse; he can’t muster the normalcy to banter. he just keeps replaying bakugou’s screaming, eyes caught on the tear-tracks on his cheeks. he hadn’t even noticed him crying during.
help is coming. help has to be coming. bakugou will last until then. but he’d hate for them to find him like this.
of its own volition, his hand retrieves a sanitary wipe from the medikit. then it’s dabbing at bakugou’s face. 
“the fuck are you- get off,” bakugou protests, albeit with more bewilderment than anger. shouto’s hands resolutely do not listen, wiping dutifully ahead, and at some point bakugou gives up, just lies there with confused annoyance in his frown. when his face is clean shouto folds the wipe away, sits back. 
“i’m sorry i made you walk earlier.”
bakugou’s eyes flicker open, slanted red. “’s whatever.”
“it was petty of me,” shouto continues, half a sigh. “i was panicking.”
“yeah, well,” bakugou mumbles. “would have kept bitching if you hadn’t, so. for the best.”
not dying, not dying, not dying. “don’t suddenly become reasonable just because you think you’re on your deathbed.”
“fuck you,” bakugou retorts, managing a snort before it turns into a coughing fit that leaves him curled up and sweating, eyes squeezed tight with pained humiliation. 
if midoriya were here, shouto thinks- but that’s stupid. he and bakugou are friends too, really. have been for much longer than bakugou would admit. he should be able to do something. 
he can’t move him, though. not with the fragile hold hatsume’s gadget has on his internal organs. he’s not exactly going to kiss him better like recovery girl would. and when it comes to conversation, he’s never really had a knack for keeping bakugou placid.
he keeps thinking about all of the times he hadn’t caught him. bakugou out of reach. that sick feeling, worsening every time. 
hesitantly, his hand finds bakugou’s. 
“what the fuck.”
instinct should make him jerk it back, but stubbornness supersedes the urge. he winds their fingers together as bakugou lifts his head to glare at him. 
“get your damn hand off me, half ‘n half.”
“no.”
bakugou tugs, hard and ineffective, falls back with an outraged glower. 
“are you fucking kidding me? what is this, a k-drama?”
“i don’t know what else to do to make you feel better,” shouto retorts, nebulously self-conscious but entirely resolute. “so unless you have any better ideas i’m not letting go.”
“it’d make me feel better if you stopped touching me!” bakugou snaps, coughing. shouto ignores him, runs his thumb over his knuckles, vague sense memories of his mother coming to him as he does. had she held his hands, back then? he thinks maybe. he can’t think where else he’d have picked it up.
bakugou has stopped struggling, but has not died. shouto relaxes a fraction.
holding hands is sort of nice. bakugou’s hand is sweaty, which makes sense, but also very hot, and calloused. after a while he sort of forgets the circumstances, just starts absently playing with it, pressing his fingers into the pads of his hand. he thinks he was right about his mother. he can sort of recall the sensation of her hands in his.
“if i don’t die,” bakugou says, after a minute, sort of resigned sounding, “i’m going to kill you.”
“yeah,” shouto says, squeezing his hand. “sure.”
he wonders if bakugou’s parents held his hand a child. he thinks probably yes. he seems like the type whose parents love him a lot in spite of his attitude. that’s mostly how everyone treats him, in the end.
mitsuki bakugou looks a lot like her son. the last time he saw her she was aggressively ruffling his hair into even greater disarray, voice strident as bakugou yelled back obscenities and made no real effort to displace her.
it must be hard, shouto reflects, for a civilian parent. midoriya’s mother certainly has reason to worry. bakugou’s is probably a close second by now.
“stop looking at me like that.”
“sorry.”
“no you’re not!”
“well, if it bothers you...”
“can you just be a normal damn person for once?”
bakugou hits him when he starts messing with his hair, but he doesn’t let go of his hand. 
(he also doesn’t kill shouto when he’s released from the hospital, but then shouto had sort of expected that.)
55 notes · View notes
generallynerdy · 4 years
Text
Maybe it does all add up to a single hush (Kanan Jarrus/Cal Kestis)
Summary: 15 years after the Fall, 10 years after the death of Caleb Dume, Kanan Jarrus and Cal Kestis find each other again.
Warnings: Jedi: Fallen Order Spoilers, Implied/Referenced Character Death, cursing, brief suicidal ideation/thoughts Word Count: 5,143
Author’s Note: the effort I had to put in not to make this another series...I had to stage an intervention for myself. Anyway, I love Cal and Kanan’s dynamic, whether as partners or as friends, and an Idea struck me that wouldn’t leave. Also, idk how old most people think Cal was when the war ended based on JFO clips, but I always just kind of went with him being the same age as Kanan at the end of the war bc I love them and I need them to know each other. The title is from the poem “So They Say— They Finally Nailed— The Proton’s Size— & Hope— Dies—” by Rosebud Ben-Oni.
Read On AO3
*
When the hard part is over, Cal returns to Bracca, his new lightsaber tucked under Cere’s old robe that still smells like the Temple, with the intention of burning Prauf’s body.
Caleb still had his own robe. He kept it in the deepest part of their shared closet, bringing it out only on the worst days. If Prauf saw it, he never mentioned it, and both boys were grateful for it. There was a lot he didn’t mention.
Cal thinks, sometimes, that Prauf knew who they were before. After all, it’s hard to look at two abandoned kids in the wake of the Clone Wars that can survive being riggers and not think of the thousands of Jedi younglings that died on Empire Day. It’s even harder to ignore two lightsabers and one ratty, brown robe.
Maybe Prauf wasn’t sure.
But he had to be, on that last day, when they found that fighter. When Cal caught him with the Force. He knew then, maybe before. But he still took care of them.
Maybe he knew when the Empire showed up, when Caleb heard the roar of a TIE Fighter and looked instantly to the redheaded boy beside him like he was about to die before his eyes. Maybe that was the moment he put it all together. Or was it his last moment? When the world began to go dark and both Cal and Caleb lashed out in fury at his killers with matching, bright blue blades—did he know? Did he know that he died for the children of an already dying Order?
Standing over the bonfire, Cal holds the Holocron in shaky hands.
Did Prauf know his sacrifice would save the life of every child just like them?
Cal moves away from the flames to the gap in the ground that they’d held Caleb over, his calloused hands clawing at the Ninth Sister, who clutched his throat.
Deep in Cal’s heart, he knows half the reason he beat her was for his best friend. He’d almost given in to rage but stopped himself at the memory of him. Revenge is not the way of the Jedi. But justice is. And so is survival, these days.
Caleb’s lightsaber fell long before he did. When he did fall, he went screaming bloody murder, the noise echoing in the silence that rang in Cal’s ears.
Standing at the edge now, Cal almost considers simply...stepping off.
He can survive it. He has before. And what’s to say that Caleb isn’t waiting at the bottom?
Caleb...used to like animals, he remembers. He preferred them to plants, which are unreadable if you don’t have practise with them. Animals, like people, are complex but tell you in simple terms what they want and what they don’t want. Cal has always been better with plants. They’re simple, grounding, natural. Caleb used to tease him for it.
The only plant he ever managed to grow on this place was a seedling in a boot filled with dirt he kept in their room. It had been making good progress in their last weeks, enough that he’d actually felt some semblance of hope.
And then...and then he’d lost everything. Again.
The Holocron burns in his hand, reminding him that there is more in store for him than an endless chasm. Hundreds of thousands of Force-sensitive children are depending on him now, him and the Mantis crew.
Cal lets out a shaky breath. “I couldn’t save you,” he whispers to the wind. “But maybe I can save them.”
On the way back to the Mantis, he turns around to go find the robe and the plant in its boot. The robe smells like blaster fire and the plant is wilting but both are comforting: one because it’s familiar and the other because it’s not quite gone yet.
*
Kanan changes his name.
It doesn’t feel right, hearing his given name from anyone that isn’t Cal or Prauf. The first and only time it happens, nausea sinks in and he quickly makes the change.
Some days, he wants to go back to Bracca. Some part of him still hopes Cal survived the Inquisitors, that he’s waiting for him back at what used to be home, but the logical part of him knows that he’s not. Kanan surviving was a miracle, a fluke, and those don’t happen twice. Sometimes he wishes it had never happened at all.
He managed to save his lightsaber, as broken to bits as it was. It and the necklace Cal gave him are all he has now.
Kanan doesn’t let himself grieve, as much as he knows he needs to. He hardly did it before, on Bracca, but now he won’t allow even a tear. Surviving is the only thing on his mind, though for what he doesn’t know.
When he almost loses that little piece of metal on a string, though, he breaks down sobbing.
It’s the stupidest thing, really. All those lessons on attachment are lost on him now, as he cries over the rusted symbol of the Jedi Order on a piece of scrap metal that Cal had put on a cord for him. He keeps it close to his heart, hanging off his neck every hour of every day if he can help it, and getting that close to losing it is the last straw.
He knows now, why he’s surviving. Because Cal would want him to.
Meeting Hera is a relief. She’s kind but curious, which is more of a bane than it should be.
(Painfully, he’s reminded of himself as a youngling. His Master always said his frequent questions were what drew her to him.)
She’s the first to know about his past, both as a Jedi and a rigger on Bracca. He doesn’t think to mention Caleb, doesn’t think it would matter to anyone, not until after a mission gone bad.
Hera is putting bacta on his wounds and graciously ignoring his constant wincing when she sees it.
She points to the cord after examining what hangs on it for a minute. “For someone who’s trying to be discreet, you wear a lot of Jedi stuff.”
Kanan snorts. “Yeah, well, I won’t get rid of this one.”
“It’s important to you,” she points out. “Can I ask why?”
He hesitates, swallowing roughly. “My best friend gave it to me...on Bracca, befo-before the Inquisitors caught up to us,” he admits. “He didn’t make it.”
Her eyes are full of empathy, something she never lacks. “What was his name?”
“Cal,” he says, voice quiet. “Cal Kestis.”
“If you remember his name,” she promises, “he’ll always be with you.”
It’s not so much a Twi’lek belief as it is her own but it reminds Kanan of Grey more than anyone else. His buir. The clones subscribed to many Mandalorian beliefs, including the echoing of remembrances for the dead. Before the abrupt end of the war, little Caleb used to say his every morning with his Master and buir.
So, he decides to start again. It’s difficult, at first, to even get through the first names, his oldest names.
“Depa Billaba,” he says through tears in the quiet of pre-dawn, “Grey, Styles, Prauf...”
He stops.
It’s hard to think, even harder to say, but he knows he needs to. He needs to tell himself the truth, needs to accept the truth.
“Cal—”
He sobs, shaky and painful. His throat burns just like it did when he fell down the chasm on Bracca, screaming his head off, part out of fear for himself but mostly for fear of what was happening to Cal above him. It hurts to speak it into the world, into the Force and those marching on. Cal is among them now, he knows. He just...has to admit it.
“Cal Kestis,” he finally says, the admission wobbly and half-hearted.
He never loses the necklace again.
*
They’ve finally settled on Bogano, after wiping every trace of it from Imperial data servers. The Holocron is safely locked away in the Vault, guarded by their crew and the Binog, fondly called ‘the big guy,’ mostly by fault of Greez.
Though mostly self-sufficient, occasionally some of them will leave the planet for supplies they can’t make themselves. While off on supply runs, well, they can’t help it if some Imperials just look like easy pickings. Apparently, slavers get the same treatment because Merrin ends up a figure in some sort of oral tradition of a Tatooine family, which Cal finds hilarious. Cere is not so amused and grounds them—literally, in that they can’t leave Bogano—for over a month.
Cal spends most of it repairing old platforms and ziplines, not to mention entertaining the Boglings.
They’re fond of him, for some reason, and BD-1, who loves to run around with them while Cal works. One in particular, named Rabid by Merrin after she stole her entire plate of food, is especially loveable.
Cal snickers as he pulls Rabid off his shoulder. “I have to finish this, then I can play.”
Rabid is not pleased with his answer, nibbling at his trousers.
“Rabid,” he chides, ignoring her in favour of his work. He laughs again. “I used to know somebody who would’ve loved you, annoying as you are.”
BD, who has taken Rabid’s place, beeps curiously.
Cal’s face falls a little. He pauses in his work. “Oh. I guess I’ve never told you about Caleb, huh?”
The little droid shakes his head.
Cal never intended to talk about Caleb to anyone, really, but it all comes pouring out. He tells BD and Rabid all about his old best friend, his confidant. The story is a long one, reaching from the creche all the way to Bracca and its bitter end. By the time he’s finished, his voice is quiet and hesitant, his grief echoing through.
Rabid curls up in his lap, nudging his hand, while BD sits in front of them, tilting his head.
A little light on the side of his scope says that he’s recording. He does that a lot, Cal knows, for prosperity, just like he was programmed to. Cal doesn’t mind, really.
When he finishes, BD gets his attention by chirping.
“Huh? You have something to show me?”
BD’s projector whirrs to life and a blue image appears. It’s Cordova, again, but not a video this time. It’s only a holo, of him and another Jedi—Master Jocasta Nu, Cal realises. Master Cordova is dead asleep on her shoulder and she’s leaned over to kiss his brow.
“Oh,” Cal breathes out, something jarring in his chest.
BD-1 thinks that he and Caleb were—well, were like that.
“I—” he pauses. “I dunno, buddy. I never asked him if...but I think…”
Well. It’d be a stretch to say Cal loved him, but he certainly cared for him more than he ever did anyone else. When they were thirteen and stupid, he might’ve said he had a crush on him. After the Fall, on Bracca, he just...didn't think of it. Caleb was all he had and he clung but he never...thought about what it was, thought about what they were.
It hurts to think of now, all that he missed.
“I don’t know if I did,” Cal tells BD quietly. “But I think I- I think I could have.”
BD asks about Caleb a lot, after that. Maybe he can tell that talking about him makes Cal happy. The others know about the one he lost but they don’t ask. They all have their demons and Cal’s are just...just too great to pile on another person. BD, though, is a little easier. All he wants is to see Cal smile again.
*
“What’s this?”
Kanan doesn’t think to look up at whatever Ezra—the newest addition to the Ghost crew—has swiped from him, until he notices a weight missing from his neck. His head snaps up to where a cord hangs from Ezra’s hand.
“Give that back,” Kanan growls, not meaning to be so aggressive.
Ezra’s eyes widen. He holds it out immediately, dropping it into Kanan’s open hand. “Sorry,” he mutters, watching curiously as Kanan puts it back on.
Almost by instinct, Kanan tucks the piece of scrap metal back under his shirt and breathes out a sigh of relief. He goes back to his datapad. Then, a moment later, when he notices the entire room is still silent, he looks up. Sabine and Zeb have joined Ezra in staring incredulously.
“What?” Kanan asks, his voice back to normal.
“I’ve never seen you that mad before,” Sabine admits with a half-shrug, though her eyes betray her concern.
Zeb nods, arms crossed. “And I’ve never seen you without that thing on your neck.”
“Yeah, you even sleep with it!” Ezra adds. “What’s up with that?”
“I—” He goes to make an excuse but stops, his hand fidgeting with the necklace.
“You don’t have to…” Sabine starts to say, but he shakes his head.
He sighs. To be honest, he’s surprised Zeb and Sabine haven’t asked before. “My best friend gave it to me.”
Ezra immediately sits down across from him, eyes wide. “Another Jedi?”
Admittedly, the kid is a lot like he used to be: always asking questions, always pushing. It’s going to get him in trouble someday but for now, it just gets him more stories out of Kanan, stories about the Jedi.
“Yeah. Yeah, another Padawan. We grew up in the Temple together.” He smiles, a fickle and fleeting thing. “He was picked by a Master before me, so we were separated...at the end. But I found him again, on the planet he was last assigned. He gave me this.”
Ezra’s face is bright, curious. Sabine, on the other hand, looks prepared for a gut-punch.
“What happened to him?” she asks quietly.
Kanan exhales sharply, ruefully. “Inquisitors. After 5 years of nothing, they came out of nowhere. I never saw what happened to him. For all I know, they still have him.”
“Oh,” Ezra says, his face falling.
“You know, Zeb,” Kanan begins, not wanting to make things any sadder, “his Master was a Lasat.”
He scoffs. “No way.”
“He was, swear it on my life!” he claims, raising a hand. “First time I saw you, I thought Master Tapal came back to haunt me for being a bad influence.”
Zeb snickers. “Bad influence? You?”
“Eh, a nudge here and there. We were not good kids.”
He tells them a few stories before Sabine and Zeb are called away by Hera and Chopper, leaving Ezra and Kanan alone. Ezra makes to follow them but stops, his expression cautiously blank.
“What is it, Ezra?” Kanan asks, already knowing that he’s brimming with curiosity.
“You said he was...your best friend?”
He frowns. “Yeah, ever since we were kids. Why?”
“I dunno. The way you talked about him just reminded me of my parents,” Ezra admits hesitantly. “Sappy. Did you—?”
Kanan sighs, touching his necklace again.
He had always been more reckless than Cal, back then. He threw himself into everything, into every situation. No matter the problem or the person, he was all-in. No matter what. And that included Cal. Once he took that step, he was karked. Before he knew it, he was hanging onto the redhead’s every word.
Cal was...different. Kanan had known that for a long time but the war only brought it out.
Kanan had a stupid crush, that was all. But on Bracca, it was everything and more.
He’d known then, known for a long time. Cal had never seen it but he didn’t have to. Kanan was fine the way things were. It didn’t feel right, bringing things up after...well, after. So Cal never knew.
(Sure, he could see the past of things with a single touch of his hands but he’d always been pretty oblivious.)
“Love him?” Kanan asks, raising an eyebrow.
Ezra nods.
It’s without hesitation that he answers. “I did.”
When they go in search of Master Luminara, Kanan’s kids buy him a precious few minutes to search for a Cal Kestis in the prisoner logs. He’s not there, of course, but Kanan thinks he prefers that to a death certificate.
*
“Ho-oly shit,” Greez says over comms one day. “You guys better get up here.”
Cal shares a look with Cere, following her out of the workshop with BD on his shoulder. Merrin has already teleported to Greez’s side when they arrive, lightsabers in hand. Greez passes the young man—not so young anymore, Cere has commented teasingly as he desperately shaves away any trace of his age—a pair of electrobinoculars.
Squinting through the scope, he spies a trail of smoke on the horizon attached to a ship.
“Kriffing hells,” Cere says after she gets a look.
In all their 10 years here, no one has ever landed—or crashed, for that matter—on the planet. The few ships that have come into orbit were Imperial and always quickly dealt with before word could get out. This one, however, isn’t exactly your standard Imperial cruiser. And it’s wrecked.
“Looks like a modified VCX-100 light freighter to me,” Greez says. “It’s a nice ship.”
Merrin rolls her eyes. “Are we waiting for them to come to us?”
“Looks like we don’t have to,” Cere declares, still looking through the binocs. “They’re headed this way, six hostiles. Three humans, a Lasat, a Twi’lek, and a droid.”
Greez laughs. “A Lasat? We’re kriffed.”
“Says you,” Merrin snorts.
“I’m with her,” Cal agrees, a cocky smile on his face. “Merrin and I will take the Vault. Cere, Greez, take home. BD will lure the big ones our way.”
“You got it, kid.”
Cere puts a hand on his shoulder before he can follow Merrin—more or less, seeing as she just teleports everywhere. “Be careful.”
The worst part of intruders is that even the hypothetical good ones can’t know Bogano is here. They’ll have to knock them out hard enough for their memories to be spotty and dump them in a nearby system if they’re smart—and they are.
Cal slips on his robe, a gift from Cere, and flips the hood up, making for the Vault.
If these visitors think they can take the Holocron, they have another thing coming.
*
“Are you sure we can find help here?” Ezra asks for the third time as they approach the massive building in the distance. “It looks...deserted.”
Hera sighs for the third time. “Scanners said there were signs of life here in a higher concentration than the rest of the planet. It’s worth checking out.”
Sabine gestures through the mild fog. “There’s buildings up ahead.”
“Good, let’s head there,” Kanan says, a cautious hand on his lightsaber.
Hopping across platforms is a pain, but they all manage to make their way to what looks like a residential area. A small path digs into the ground, leading deeper inside the planet’s crust. With a look at her second in command, Hera starts toward it. However, she stops when Kanan freezes.
“Do you feel that?” he asks suddenly, squinting as he looks into the distance.
Something is...tugging at him. Something in the Force is insistent that he go...that way. The feeling of incompleteness settles inside his chest.
“No…” Ezra replies uneasily. “What is it?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know.” After a moment, he decides. “I think I should go this way. You guys go on ahead.”
Zeb scoffs. “I’ll go with you. We don’t know who lived here. Could be Inquisitors for all we know.”
“They generally prefer places with lava,” Ezra counters.
The group splits, with Hera leading Sabine, Chopper, and Ezra into the abode. She and Sabine have their blasters raised, while Ezra keeps a hand on his lightsaber. Chopper is always ready to give someone a nasty shock.
“Anyone home?” Sabine calls.
There’s no answer.
They come across a small kitchen and dining room, where two chairs are pulled out. Over one hangs a small, ratty brown robe with multiple blaster burns.
Ezra plucks it off the back of the seat. “Woah, cool,” he breathes. “Very Jedi-like, huh?”
“Leave it, Ezra,” Hera chides fondly.
“You’d best,” says another voice.
All three of them jump as a lightsaber hums to life. Double-bladed, the weapon burns bright white throughout the room, illuminating its bearer, a woman with dark skin and hair, and her companion.
“Inquisitor!” Ezra cries, lighting his own.
The lightsaber wielder’s friend fires off a blaster right at Hera, who’s shoved out of the way by Sabine. Chopper shrieks, his head spinning.
“Look out!”
On the surface, Zeb follows Kanan to the edge of the platform. There, they find a zip line, which they intend to brave before a series of chirps stops them.
Zeb yelps and lifts his rifle when a droid appears, only stopped by Kanan’s raised hand.
It’s...a buddy droid.
“Hey, little guy,” Kanan greets cautiously. “What are you doing all the way out here?”
He beeps excitedly and backs away, indicating that they should follow. With a single leap, he attaches himself to the zipline and whirrs as he zooms all the way down.
“Don’t tell me we’re following the droid,” Zeb groans.
Kanan just smiles. “We’re following the droid.”
Using the Force to balance himself, he leaps atop the zipline and begins to tiptoe his way down. Behind him, Zeb sighs but reaches up to grab the line, following right after him. They land on a platform a good distance away, where a small slope is guarded by two statues; the beings depicted are of an unknown species, one lost to time.
“I don’t like this,” Zeb says as soon as he hops onto the grass. “It’s like the start of a bad horror holo.”
Kanan snorts. “If that were true, it would be raining tookas and massiffs.”
The buddy droid whirrs loudly to get their attention and bounces his way up the sloping path, on top of which sits a fluffy native creature. Kanan doesn’t know what they’re called, but this one is adorable. She chirps at them, much like the droid did.
“Oh, you’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” Kanan coos, moving to meet the creature and let her sniff his hand.
She makes a happy noise and nudges him.
“Ugh,” Zeb mutters, “more things.”
The droid and the creature lead them to the entrance of the massive, ancient building that had caught Kanan’s eye from the crash site. He steps in front of Zeb, placing his hand on the runes in the rock as the Force sings. This isn’t what’s calling him, but…
“Something is here,” Kanan whispers.
“I hope it’s not something that wants to eat us,” Zeb says long-sufferingly.
The slab of rock retreats into the space above, leaving an open tunnel of sorts.
“Karabast,” the Lasat curses, “I hate Jedi stuff.”
Kanan rolls his eyes. “C’mon.”
It’s a tight fit, but the two squeeze their way through, Kanan leading the way. They exit into a large cavern filled with a few inches of water, just enough to be annoying. Standing in the midst of the cave is a figure in a brown robe. The moment Kanan spots him, he draws his lightsaber and stands in front of Zeb until he can ready his rifle, too.
“You are not meant to be here.”
Kanan frowns. “The Force says otherwise. Who are you?”
“The guardian of this vault. You need to leave,” the figure says.
From underneath their robe, they draw a very familiar weapon. With a snap and a hiss, two blades of yellow light appear. Kanan lights his own lightsaber in response but it’s too little too late.
A green smoke encompasses Zeb, who yelps as he’s flung across the room by a pissed off Nightsister—which makes zero sense because they’re all supposed to be dead.
Kanan makes for his friend, interrupted only by the mysterious guardian rushing at him.
“Where did you get that lightsaber?” the faceless figure hisses.
And, well, Kanan doesn’t know how to answer that question except with another question. “Where did you get yours? ”
Back in the residential platform, Hera leaps in between Ezra and the lightsaber-wielder. “Wait!” she cries.
Both stop, staring at her like she’s crazy.
“That’s a healed kyber crystal, isn’t it?” Hera asks, pointing to her white blade. “You’re not an Inquisitor. You’re a Jedi.”
The woman lowers her lightsaber just slightly. “I was.”
“I’m one, too!” Ezra chirps, popping out from behind Hera. “Er. I’m training to be one!”
Her eyes widen. “A Padawan? Who’s your Master?”
Before he can answer, Hera speaks for him. “Kanan Jarrus. But his name used to be Caleb Dume.”
“Caleb?” she asks, her voice hushed in awe. “Depa Billaba’s Padawan?”
She nods.
Abruptly, the woman turns sharply on her heel, raising her comm unit to her lips and rushing out the door. “Cal, they’re non-hostiles, non-hostiles! Don’t hurt your boyfriend!”
“What!?” Ezra and Sabine cry at the same time, the former’s voice cracking.
Without another word, they follow her and her friend outside.
*
Merrin has the Lasat out of the Vault long before Cal gets his opponent to the entrance, admittedly. Lightsaber to lightsaber combat is significantly more balanced than Nightsister magick against a bo-rifle, poor guy.
Still, Cal pushes the intruder to the top of the Vault’s slope, the man just on the edge of slipping.
That’s when Cere’s voice crackles through the comms.
“Cal, they’re non-hostiles, non-hostiles! Don’t hurt your boyfriend!”
Hand grasping the intruder’s shirt, holding him above the edge, Cal freezes. He meets brown eyes and suddenly can’t breathe, gaze drifting to the cord around the taller man’s neck. His gloveless fingers just barely skim the material, Force signatures exploding in front of his eyes.
And suddenly, he can see it. He can see himself, painstakingly painting that symbol onto the metal and bartering for a cord. He sees an older Caleb sobbing in the quiet of an unfamiliar room, clutching that necklaces like a lifeline.
“Did you—?”
“Love him? I did.”
A shaky breath passes his lips.
“Caleb?” he asks, voice breaking on the name that’s so unfamiliar on his tongue.
The grip on his wrist loosens.
Kanan hears the woman’s voice, clear as day, but he almost doesn’t believe it at first. He almost doesn’t believe when he hears that whispered question. Caleb. It’s the name of a stranger and yet—yet when that robe’s hood slips off to reveal red hair and bright green eyes, he feels like he’s never known any other name.
“Cal?”
The Force wasn’t calling him to the Vault. It was calling him to its guardian.
Silence falls, the rest of the world fading away. All they’ve been through, all they’ve seen, and it all stops in this moment. It all adds up to this.
Cal lets go of his shirt, letting him balance precariously at the top of the muddy slope down from the Vault. Neither of them speaks—neither of them knows what to feel, except bright, unparalleled joy.
Cal doesn’t let himself flinch when Caleb reaches, his fingers just barely skimming his cheek.
He doesn’t get much further. Green smoke encompasses his body and before Cal knows it, his best friend is being flung from the Vault entrance to the platform beyond, screaming as he goes. The platform beyond, where the Oggdo used to reside, is covered in flowers. It was there that Cal planted his little sapling in a boot and there that the plant spread, covering almost every inch of land with budding blue and yellow flowers.
Cal whirls around to see Merrin, her eyes glowing green.
“Merrin, no!” he protests, eyes wide with desperation. “That’s Caleb!”
Merrin’s glowing fades as she glances at the nearby Lasat and her friend’s horrified face. “My mistake,” she says in that tone that says she knows exactly who he is.
(They were taking too long to speak, in her opinion.)
Cal huffs at her before getting a running start toward the entrance, using the Force to balance himself as he slides down that muddied slope, sailing right toward Caleb. Near the end, he leaps into the air, propelling himself a mere few feet from his collapsed companion.
“Caleb!” he cries, stumbling the last few steps and falling to his knees, where Caleb is face-down in the damp grass, his hair-tie mysteriously missing.
Caleb is—well, he’s okay. He’s just...wheezing with laughter.
He pushes himself up on his elbows and flips over just as Cal makes it to him, his chest heaving with the effort. And still, he laughs, a half-mad sound.
“Are you o—?” Cal is cut off by his own yelp when Caleb flings himself up from the ground and pulls Cal with him.
He embraces the redhead, dragging them both to their feet so he can swing Cal around. Cal shrieks and hitches his legs up on his hips, as difficult as that is with the man’s height—the bastard, he grew. He reaches desperately for Caleb’s shoulders to hold onto when they spin, completely unaware of Cere and the rest of Caleb’s group appearing on the platform.
Finally, Caleb stops, looking up at Cal with shining eyes and a smile that could kill a man. Cal leans forward, letting his forehead fall against his and breathing out a sigh of relief.
“I thought the Inquisitors had you,” Caleb whispers, a thousand more words in the back of his mind, too many to count.
Cal’s eyes well with tears. “I thought you were dead.”
Caleb has always been more reckless than Cal but the latter was the one to hear his words echo through that necklace, an admission years too late. It’s because of that little echo that Cal buries a hand in the hair that falls to his shoulders and pushes his head upward, meeting him in a searing kiss.
Out of shock, Caleb both squeaks—adorable, Cal thinks—and clutches the back of Cal’s shirt for a moment before dropping him. Luckily, his instinct has him landing on his feet.
The drop pulls him away and, looking up, he sees Caleb looking shell-shocked.
He just grins, grabs the taller man’s shirt, and pulls him in for another kiss, this one saying much more than the first. Caleb plants his feet and buries a hand in Cal’s hair for good measure.
They both ignore Greez cackling in the distance and Sabine’s whispered: “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck —”
Because in that moment, all is right with the galaxy. Cal’s flowers are fully grown and blossoming beneath their feet, Caleb’s robe is waiting for him in the other room, and they have each other again.
And that’s all they’ve ever really wanted, isn’t it?
*
River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme
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razanartuk · 3 years
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about me tag game thing
i was tagged by the wonderful @nothingunrealistic! thank you very much ily <3
under read more bc i was not capable of keeping my answers brief this time around
why did you choose your url?
this...was supposed to be a short explanation but it turned into quite a tale so strap in i guess because we are going on a ride. back in 2017 i was just getting into musical theatre rp and i was still feeling too shy to really talk to anyone ooc so i would just wait for people i wanted to interact with to post starter calls so i could just do things in character with them the easy way. So i did this with my friend cam, who posted a starter for me using a lyric from If I Could Tell Her. she linked the song so i could listen to it, so i did and i went ‘wait a minute, is that Ben Platt from Pitch Perfect?? (and other things too, but i only recognized his voice at the time bc of the acappella girl movies)’ and yes it certainly was.
i had zero idea what the plot of Dear Evan Hansen was about at that point, and for some reason based off Just That One Song and the poster art of who i assumed was Some Guy in a Polo Shirt i started to think it was about some jock guy who broke his arm and had an emo/goth friend who had either died or gone missing under mysterious circumstances. also i intuited that Evan had a crush on his friend’s sister but he couldn’t tell her that directly or his emo friend would kick his ass. so i was like mostly wrong, but a little bit right.
oh and i knew jared and alana were characters from the show bc cam said that they were i think?? but i had no idea what their role was. so after listening to if i could tell her, i listened to good for you and all i really got out of that was that evan the apparently not-jock guy had done...something... that really hurt jared and alana. and at that point i finally decided to go look up a plot synopsis and i found out i was waaay off base. but honestly this is why cast recordings should include scene dialogue in the songs bc otherwise you just get soundtracks like dear evan hansen where the songs have like. zero context. we really just go from waving through a window to for forever to sincerely me without like. any reason as to what is happening huh. It’s honestly not a surprise anymore that all those people on twitter had no idea the plot isn’t about gay teenagers.
anyways. cam was writing jared and she made a post at one point about wishing somebody would write alana and i was like ‘oh i could do that!’ (after i had actually Seen a bootleg and finally knew what the whole story was, of course) so i made a multimuse rp blog featuring alana beck, nabulungi hatimbi, chloe valentine and some other characters, and cam started sharing her headcanons with me that alana is trans, jared and alana were close friends when they were little kids but they sort of drifted apart as they got older and their priorities in life changed, jared was the first person alana came out to when she realized she’s trans, etc.
one night i started talking about wanting to pick a more theatre-relevant url for my blog and trans-[character name] urls were getting pretty popular, and at least 3 of the friends i made through rp had changed theirs to coordinating trans-[character name] and i think it was cam suggested i should make mine be trans-alana so i did. eventually i realized the unhyphenated version was available so i changed it to transalana with no hyphen and i have lived here ever since. sometimes i think about changing it but i feel like transalana has become a part of My Brand and i am not so great with coming up with cool names for things.
any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them
in theory, i have sideblogs... i don’t really use them, but of the ones i do have, there is:
emsbookblog - this was supposed to be where i would post excerpts of the book that i’m working on, but i think i did that maybe one time roughly 2 years ago and then promptly forgot about it/got nervous about my writing and was scared to share anything else. the rest of the stuff that is there is assorted writing tips. i don’t really know what to do with it now. i probably should post all my little thoughts about em and anita and caleb there instead of infodumping on my main from time to time, but if i do that then i have to promo a sideblog and direct people over to it which is always annoying to me when i could just do it on this blog which is much easier
dearnovelhansen - this is basically no longer used, but was a sideblog i made specifically to talk/complain about the novel adaptation of Dear Evan Hansen which was about 3 years ago?? maybe? i can’t be trusted to understand the passage of time. but to summarize: i thought it was an honor just to have the story be made more accessible since many of us couldn’t see the stage performance, but i hated a lot of the creative liberties that were taken. my main grumbles are that everyone who isn’t evan or connor is done so dirty in the novel. connor’s still kind of done dirty in the book, but not as much as like. heidi, alana, jared, and zoe are.
horseisle3 - this one was meant to be a place where i could just enthusiastically post screenshots from hi3, but instead it turned into a blog where i occasionally reblog other players’ hi3 content and bitch about how bad the game admins are bc hi3 is the tumblr famous (infamous?) homophobic horse game. the game where it was once okay to call your club store the gulag bc according to their head of hr, ‘it’s just a russian word for prison’ but you can’t say ‘im gay’ without somebody accusing you of corrupting young children who play the game. unfortunately there aren’t very many good interactive horse games out there, so this one is still about as good as it gets. it’s either that or star stable and i don’t care about star stable.
mlaenie - i’ve had this url saved for i don’t even know how long. way way way back in the day when i wanted to escape from the clutches of the onceler fandom i abandoned my first blog where i basically had an alter ego i guess?? and i decided to just be myself on the new blog. i don’t fully remember who came up with it, but one of my sister’s mutuals suggested that if you scrambled the letters in your name you could come up with aesthetic-looking urls. so lauren’s url became lrauen, and to match with her mine became mlaenie, which i abandoned on tumblr after about a year or so? but have continued to use as my main username on twitter, reddit, youtube, xbox, steam, and discord. i barely ever use any of these accounts aside from twitter, steam, and xbox, but yeah. so i’ve decided to try and turn this empty sideblog into a place for video game thoughts maybe. we’ll see how long it lasts this time around.
how long have you been on tumblr?
i made my first tumblr account in december of 2010, but i didn’t understand how to use it at all or how to customize my theme to look cool and unique so i quickly abandoned it. i made a new account in september of 2011 after some kids at school and my sister told me i should and i have been trapped here with varying degrees of activity/inactivity ever since. i have witnessed the rise and fall of the lorax/onceler fandom, hyperfocused on lord of the rings, star wars and back to the future all at the same time, and for the past 4 years i’ve mostly been a musical theatre blog with assorted other fandom stuff mixed in. i feel i have seen everything and nothing, but mostly i’m just tired and bored.
do you have a queue tag?
no bc i don’t use a queue. i’ve tried using it in the past but i irrationally feel pressured to sustain a coherent theme to queued posts and my brain simply does not vibe with that so i just don’t use it at all anymore. Instead i instantly reblog or post several unrelated thoughts in succession and then don’t post again at all for 3 days. the way god intended
why did you start your blog in the first place?
my very first blog was intended to be a place for me to post all of my petz 5 animals’ profile info, but i didn’t have any understanding of how coding worked at all and i don’t think i really wanted to learn, either. so it just sat there, unused. my second attempt at blogging was as a classic rock fandom person, so as you can probably imagine i was pretty pretentious about ‘modern pop’ vs the beatles, the rolling stones, the who, the monkees, and so on. and then i slowly devolved into a lorax fandom blog and everything went to shit so i made a new blog for lord of the rings/the hobbit which later evolved to include star wars and back to the future blogging. and then for the past 4 years i’ve been mainly a musical theatre blog with other random stuff i like thrown haphazardly into the pot. wonderful.
why did you choose your icon/pfp?
because my url is transalana and two of my most prominent lgbt headcanons are that alana beck is trans and a lesbian. i gotta be shouting out @kinqmike though bc she’s the one i adopted the trans alana beck headcanon from in the first place!
why did you choose your header?
in 2017 i was hyperfixating on Dear Evan Hansen (and Be More Chill, but there weren’t many gif-able videos then considering it ran for a month in New Jersey in 2015 and there was only one yet-to-resurface 35 minute bootleg) so i just grabbed a random gif off of google. i really should get to replacing it with a new header of my own though. i just don’t know what i should do for it.
what’s your post with the most notes?
i have lost track of how many notes it has (i think it’s somewhere around 200 now?) but when Will Roland and George Salazar performed Two Player Game on Good Morning America, i posted a screencap of their Jeremy and Michael along with that one quiz answer meme that says stuff like ‘i want to see it grow up healthy’. i didn’t tag it with any ship names or anything because i was anxious about having it show up in the tags, but somebody who reblogged it from me did tag it as boyf riends and i firmly believe it took off because of that. i don’t think i make posts that are relevant enough to amass thousands of notes, even by accident. which is probably a good thing bc if i did i would have to block so many of them.
how many followers do you have?
on this blog? 175 according to the counter. how many of those are still real people and how many are bots and abandoned accounts? i have no idea.
how many people do you follow?
i try to keep it somewhere around 200. i think i’m sitting at 180 right now but i kind of need to go through and clear out the really inactive blogs.
have you made a shitpost?
let’s think about this for a second. i’ve been on tumblr for nearly 10 years. you might even be able to say i’ve made more than one. they’re just not what you would call...popular shitposts.
how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ post?
that stuff makes me so incredibly anxious that i have to fight the urge to want to yeet my laptop or mobile device through the closest window whenever i read it, so i try very hard to avoid any sort of ‘if you don’t reblog this, i’m judging you’ posts. i find them very manipulative and not particularly helpful
do you like tag games?
yeah babey!! i just frequently forget to do them, but please know that if you have ever tagged me in a tag game i felt incredibly touched by the gesture and the @mention even if i completely forgot to do the thing afterward
do you like ask games?
i do! but also rip to literally anyone who has ever sent me an ask meme bc it takes me so long to answer them. i’m still working on a micro fic prompt from a few weeks ago. also, horrified to realized that it has in fact been a few weeks and not 3 days anymore.
which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?
i don’t know that any are tumblr famous as a whole. but probably @neverheardnothing
do you have a crush on a mutual?
in any sort of romantic connotation? no. not that i’m aware of. there are mutuals that i have friend crushes on where i want to be friends with them but i get so anxious when it comes to meeting new people that usually nothing ever comes of it. i’m really not good at small talk or other casual conversation either which, as you may or may not be able to imagine, sucks. i just wanna skip over all of the awkward introductions and ‘hey how are you, how is life, what are you doing with yourself?’ stuff. not because i don’t care about it. i do, but i think most of my friends/the people i want to be my friends are also depressed and anxious so asking these basic questions about life tends to uh. make us all nervous. and i don’t do much with my life so i always have the most boring answers anyways.
i’m not tagging anyone officially bc the @ thing has just completely given up on me at this point, but if you want to do it, go for it. and then say i tagged you so i can read it c:
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