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#Designed specifically to teach his forced son a lesson

morninkim · 1 year

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Character Breakdowns

Realised I just posted my MMPR designs the other day and didn’t include any further information than that.

The goal of this series is to reimagine MMPR as an action comedy animated series in the vein of Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, with splashes of drama in there to keep things interesting (hence the series title lmao)

Elements from several different sources are included (Show, Comics, Movies, etc.) with some extra new elements added that’ll be revealed as I get further into the design series and reveal more lore.

If you wanna take a look at the designs themselves, they and any future designs for this series will be under #rotmmpr on my blog!

Anyway, under the cut are the basic rundowns of each main character, enjoy:

Jason Lee-Scott - 17, Junior Year, Red Ranger

- A young man of mixed Chinese and White descent, Jason is the quarterback of the Angel Grove High School Football team and a weekend karate teacher for Elementary Schoolers at the local Youth Centre. He is charming and charismatic, giving off an air that eases anyone he speaks with.

- Jason has been best friends with Zack since the two were small children, their parents having met and bonded over their shared experience as immigrants to the US when their families moved to the same cul de sac around the same time. He also went to Elementary School with Kimberly, however the two went to different Middle Schools and fell in with different crowds, however they are on friendly terms.

- Jason’s Ranger suit grants him enhanced strength he can use to lift many times more than his body weight and grapple with even the strongest monster thrown at him. However, he must be careful with this ability, as it can wear his energy down if he is not careful and render him helpless.

Zack Taylor - 17, Junior Year, Black Ranger

- Zack is an eccentric and energetic teenager with a passion for dance and performance, who also serves as fullback on the AGHS Football team. He developed his own fighting style he dubbed “Hip Hop Kido” from sitting in on Jason’s karate lessons, watching anime and seeing concerts growing up.

- Many would consider the young man the most approachable student at Angel Grove High, greeting almost everyone in the halls with a specific and personal secret handshake for each person. However, under his upbeat attitude lies deep concern and worry for those close to him. With his father gone, he usually spends his nights and any time off from school caring for his mother, who has been bedridden for several years due to illness. There is no one Zack loves more in the world than her, and he is not afraid to express it.

- Zack is fiercely protective of his friends, which manifests in his Ranger suit giving him extra plating and bulk, as well as the ability to create a forcefield when in danger. Creating a forcefield, while great for defense, does leave him vulnerable to attacks from behind. They can also be broken, with enough force.

Billy Cranston - 14, Freshman Year, Blue Ranger

- Considered by many to be a bit of an oddball, Billy Cranston is a boy who grew up homeschooled for most of his life, due to his parents not trusting the school system with their autistic son. However, with his parents having to work more and more to make ends meet, they were unable to continue teaching him from home and had to start him at Angel Grove High School for Freshman Year. Halfway in, he has not quite settled and mostly keeps to himself, preferring to tinker with his tools and contraptions he keeps in his large backpack.

- While tinkering, he has noticed that Trini Gomez has started to sit near him. Not too close, but close enough that he can hear the loud music playing from her headphones. Billy is also passing acquaintances with Jason and Zack, the latter of which making his week when the two came up with their personal handshake. Billy practiced it for several hours that same night, ending up sleeping in the next day and missing Shop Class, but he performed it flawlessly when prompted nonetheless. Perhaps Zack reminds him of his older brother, who moved out of town a few years prior. Nothing brings Billy more joy than hearing his brother is going to be visiting, even if it’s for just a day.

- Billy’s Ranger suit has a pack on the back, in which he can store tech to retrieve at a moment’s notice in a fight. He can also use it as a jetpack to gain higher ground or get out of a sticky situation.

Trini Gomez - 18, Junior Year, Yellow Ranger

- Trini has had a rough time of it. Her parents split when she was about to start Middle School, which ended up dropping her grades, forcing her to repeat a grade due to absences from looking out for her two little brothers in the midst of all of that. She spends the majority of her time at her mother’s place, who works late more often than not, leaving Trini to provide dinners for her brothers and make sure they get to bed on time. She prefers to keep to herself, with others at school more than happy to leave her be.

- She gravitates to sitting near anyone else who may be on their own, not ever really saying anything, just keeping close enough that she doesn’t feel completely isolated. Some people will get up and leave, however Billy Cranston hasn’t so far, and she does enjoy seeing whatever little thing he’s working on on any given day. Trini is most comfortable at her father’s place in Stone Canyon, where she’s able to pretend for just a weekend that she isn’t practically raising her brothers by herself. Her dad is also one of the few people she is out to, with her mother and brothers not yet knowing that she’s gay, and she’d like to keep it that way for the moment.

- Trini’s Ranger suit allows her to move at great speeds, however she must be careful to time her stops, as she can quickly lose control of her gathered momentum.

Kimberly Hart - 16, Sophmore Year, Pink Ranger

- Kimberly is the daughter of an artist and a successful LA businessman. As a result of her upbringing, she hadn’t really ever experienced anything but comfort and security in her life, meaning she can be a bit naive at times. However, she is much smarter than one might assume, with a ruthlessness to match if crossed or taken advantage of. While driven and passionate about her interests - particularly gymnastics - she can be superficial and a perfectionist, holding herself to a much higher standard than she may others. She is also kind of squeamish and doesn’t much like to get her hands dirty, but, if she must, she will suck it up and get the job done. She’s not one to leave anything unfinished.

- Despite her friendliness and sociable attitude, Kimberly doesn’t really have a set group of friends she spends her time with. If asked, chances are she will say that her Mother is her best friend, sharing anything and everything with her. She is on friendly terms with Jason - Zack too, by extension - and is... puzzled and intrigued by the new girl in the green jacket who just moved to Angel Grove from Reefside.

- Kimberly’s Pink Ranger suit has a hang-glider-like device stored on her back that she can utilize to glide short distances, and even as a weapon in certain situations.

#power rangers #mmpr #mighty morphin power rangers #power rangers 2017 #rottmnt #rotmmpr #also finished the first villain designs today so look forward to those getting posted very soon!

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rucbarthatbowtiesarecooldw · 2 years

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Sunday Morning Session

High on the Mountain Top

Conducting: Dallin H. Oaks

Press Forward Saints

I Know That My Redeemer Lives

D. Todd Christofferson

God knows all things – we need to take counsel from the Lord not attempt to counsel Him

When we make the plans and then God does not deliver on those plans that means they were not part of His plan.

We do our best but leave to Him the management of blessings and healing

Our repentance and obedience, our sacrifices do matter

The steps are designed for the individual and are tailored to our needs

Let God Prevail

Stories of Abraham being delivered from death, and Joseph in prison, Abinadi not being delivered but Alma believing and bringing the gospel to the people, Joseph S in liberty jail

HF is in this with me. I am not alone; He is with me all the time

In the midst of this refiner’s fire, don’t get angry at God, get close to Him

Amy A. Wright

He can heal broken things in our lives no matter our age

No ones life can be understood by one magnificent moment or one regrettable public disappointment

Go forth and change

Repent: change your behavior, associations, your heart, how you think about yourself

We are not out of His reach

Luke 15 – man who has two sons, prodigal son

Forgiveness is one of the noblest gifts we can give one another, and most specifically ourselves

Acts 3 – man who was born lame (40 yrs old)

Deliverance from our trials is different for each of us – emphasis should be less about the way we are delivered and more on the Deliverer Himself.

He knows exactly what we need and precisely when we need it

Christ says “we can fix this together”

Gary E. Stevenson

The Savior’s great commission: love share and invite

The first thing we can do is love as Christ loved

Whenever we show love, we share the gospel

The second thing we can do is share

How can you simply add what you love about the gospel of Jesus Christ to the things you share?

Sharing isn’t about selling the gospel

God needs you to be His sharer, not His sheriff

The third thing you can do is invite

Come and see, come and serve, come and belong

Michael T. Ringwood

John 3: 16-17

He knows our hearts, our names, and what we need to do

Story of Joseph again – being sold into slavery

Do you ever feel about others the way Judah felt about Benjamin?

No matter who you are or what your current circumstances there is someone out there who feels this way about you

How shall I go up to my father, and you be not with me?

You don’t need to know the meaning of all things, just know that God loves His children

How Firm a Foundation

Ronald A. Rasband

Religious freedom allows each of us to decide for ourselves what we believe

Essence of religious freedom: Inclusive, liberating and respectful

1 religious freedom honors the first and second great commandments: placing God at the center of our lives

2 religious freedom fosters expressions of belief, hope, and peace

Protecting people of all beliefs and persuasions

3 religion inspires people to help others.

4 freedom of religion acts as a unifying and rallying force for shaping values and morality

Hugo E. Martinez

IDK what he said but the definition of self reliance is: reliance on one's own powers and resources rather than those of others.

When Jesus was your age, He learned and grew. You are learning and growing too.

Deut 6: 6-7

It is important that children place their own goals with parental support

Lessons for life and growth with noticeable accomplishments

Talks briefly about father/mother roles in fam proc

1 being good examples of service to others

2 living and teaching the doctrine and principles of self reliance.

3 obeying the commandment to build self-reliance as part of the gospel of Jesus Christ

If The Savior Stood Beside Me

Russell M. Nelson

Any and all inclination to hurt others whatever those may be, the Savior commanded us to turn the other check, love our enemies, and pray for those who despitefully use you

How can we expect peace to exist in the world when we are not personally seeking peace

Momentum can swing either way

We need positive spiritual momentum – will keep us moving forward amid the fear and uncertainty created by pandemics, tsunamis, etc.

1 get on the covenant path and stay there

Ordinances and covenants give us access to godly power

2 discover the joy of daily repentance

Repenting is the key to progress

Satan delights in your misery – cut it short! Cast his influence out of your life

His kindness shall not depart – love this song

Isaiah 54:10

the Savior loves us always but especially when we repent

3 learn about God and how He works

Daily experiences worshiping the Lord and studying His gospel

Let God Prevail

4 Seek and expect miracles

Ask God to help you exercise that kind of faith

5 strive to end conflict in your personal life

In two weeks is Easter – invited to end a personal conflict in your life before then, you are promised a personal peace and a burst of spiritual momentum

Greater strength, more peace of mind, freedom from fear, unity in your families.

It Is Well With My Soul

#ldsconf #general conference #genconf #tumblrstake #the church of jesus christ of latter day saints #churchofjesuschristoflatterdaysaints

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siennahrobek · 3 years

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I had so many ideas on what to write about today but I was scrolling through the Obi-Wan tag during my break and I came across a huge post that had been baffled and a bit crazed. It was labeled about forgiveness and mercy and such but it was like a huge insanely interpreted post about the Jedi Order and some of the characters. Of course I wasn't about to start any sort of argument (and wow was the post long) but I just had to write something, at least, in my own post, unconnected with theirs. I guess this is a reaction and buckle up cause it seems like this is going to be a long one. I have a lot to say and I'm not gonna stop being all anxious about it until I do but uh....

I'm sorry, did we watch the same movies?

They go through a lot of movies and completely do a opposite take on the Jedi; how they are "unattached" (I say this because there are so many misconceptions about the word) and celibate (which we know isn't actually true) and how Anakin becomes living proof why this attitude is wrong.

First of all, it's not an attitude; it is a way of life. One that has worked for thousands of people over millennia. Second; their point WAS proven. Anakin turned to the dark side and became a sith. He committed genocide after genocide (the Jedi, Mandalore, Alderaan, Lasan etc.) and in the end, he only turned back because of his son. Which, may seem good on the surface, but it only goes to show how no other children or people that he murdered actually mattered, it was only his blood child that did. But that's not where I'm going. You don't actually see him regret doing the countless things he has done (probably because he dies) and he only does this because of his blood son. It, for me, gives the impression that blood means everything.

Anyways, there is quite a bit of talk about Obi-Wan and honestly? It is all not good. I'm not blind to Obi-Wan's faults but in general? He is a really good person; he tries so hard and goes through so much and is ugh, always trying. Obi-Wan shows no understanding? What? What? Did we watch the same movie? I mean it has been a while since I have watched Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith (they hurt my heart because ugh) but that is NOT what I remember. I remember Obi-Wan teasing Anakin gently to get his mind off of his anxieties when they were going to see Padme again. I remember Obi-Wan saying "dude don't be a horny teenager" (not in those words obviously, but that was essentially the message). I remember him literally parenting and teaching him - like he's supposed to do. I remember him trusting Anakin to do the right thing and to protect the Senator alone, by himself. I remember Anakin saying he's been having dreams - not visions or anything and nothing specific, just about his mom - and Obi-Wan going "it's alright dude, those pass in time". I mean everyone has DREAMS, that's not beholden to force-sensitives. My dreams sure as heck don't mean anything. Just cause he is a Jedi and COULD have visions, does not mean they are. And he didn't tell Obi-Wan they were visions, he literally says dreams.

(this is about the time that I wish I could work with gifs and understand them)

Anakin is not stronger than Obi-Wan; I mean, really? Sure, more powerful? I guess? But let's go back. Who beats who on Mustafar? Obi-Wan. Who does NOT murder a bunch of children and turn to the dark side? Obi-Wan. Literally, sure, he's more "powerful" with the Force, because I guess that is the whole point but he's not stronger or wiser than Obi-Wan because as Captain Rex said "experience outranks everything" and man, does Obi-Wan have a lot of that.

Let's take a break and go to Shmi. They claim that her death is a dark page in the Jedi's book. I mean, w-what? How can you possibly blame the Jedi for Shmi's death? For not freeing her? Did Qui-Gon even tell the Council that Anakin was a slave? I don't remember, honestly. But still, she ended up freed and married to a man she fell in love with. And if I remember correctly, someone was sent (by Padme maybe? to free her but she was already gone to the Lars' by that point).

Okay, I know it sounds like I am reacting to a post and well I am I suppose. But like, this post is literally blaming the Jedi for Shmi's death and how they did not offer Anakin compassion. And then just to say that it is bothersome how Anakin was solely blamed. Uh, because he was a the perpetrator! How can you possibly justify the MURDER of children. Even though it not the Jedi way, I could understand, sort of, if he went after the people that hurt his mother specifically; probably some of the men/warriors/adults. But the babies? The children? You can literally not justify that. And to blame the Jedi Order and Obi-Wan for not "taking his nightmares seriously?" Are you serious? Anakin mentioned the dream (DREAM) once in passing, there is no indication that he said that she was in danger or that this was a vision. And visions are known to be notoriously unreliable! Not to mention, the Council is responsible for the Jedi as a whole - that is thousands of people.

Alright, now to the war.

There was a claim that throughout the war, the Jedi became more and more aloof, intolerant and unforgiving and determined to win despite the suffering of the people.

What. The. Krutack.

I will include the Clone Wars series, since it was directly referenced in response. Once again, did we watch the same show? Because I'm pretty sure that virtually the whole point of the show, aside from showing us horrible things the CIS did and the individuality of the clones, was the compassion and kindness of the Jedi. How they fought to protect as many people as they could. They were dying alongside the clones. Does anyone remember how kind and caring the Jedi were when they came across civilians. Do you remember how Obi-Wan literally carried and protected with his own body the little Twielek girl, Numa, on Ryloth? Does anyone remember how many NON-Republic planets they helped? I remember them helping even CIS senators and planets that had no ties to the Republic. They helped Mandalore even when they were not part of the Republic. The vast majority of Jedi are shown protecting not only citizens but the clones as well. They are on the front lines - not hidden behind a desk (although some are and that is necessary - tactics and strategy people) and trying to save as many lives as they can, even if it costs them. They inspire creativity and individuality in the clones - this is literally a thing. I could go on and on and on.

Okay, on to Revenge of the Sith - the sadness that will probably haunt my heart forever. We will start with Dooku; specifically when Palpatine tells Anakin to kill him and that he deserves it; it is revenge for cutting off his and whatever. And this, this, post asks if this is an act of mercy for the guy kneeling in front of him (and tells him Obi-Wan later denies him) and like, what? How in the world is that mercy? He murders a defenseless man. Sure, he is the enemy and he is a criminal but he is supposed to stand trial (not to mention all the intelligence Dooku could possible give to help win the war) which is incredibly ironic, considering later, Anakin screams at Mace Windu telling him Palpatine should stand trial (even though he is much more dangerous and more of a threat than Dooku). This is not mercy. This is a handless, defenseless (although evil) man who Anakin does actually kill. It is not mercy.

Anakin has dreams about Padme; similar to his mother. You would think he would have learned his lesson and confided in someone by telling them what was actually happening. Anakin once again, DOES NOT give Yoda any specifics, just that he fears someone he is close to will die. It is claimed that he is lacking empathy and compassion to Anakin's dilemma. WHAT DILEMMA? Anakin won't tell anyone anything that could actually help. What Yoda says is true; like "dude, people die and you have to move on from that. You cannot stop death and you cannot let this fear control you. You have to let go" which is a completely reasonable thing; I mean, hello - grief counseling anyone? Yoda probably thought he was talking about Obi-Wan - who was off on a very dangerous mission against a cyborg that had killed many Jedi and padawans; this seems like a very normal fear. Whether or not Yoda says this in the right way is not really relevant; Anakin knows that he has to let go of what he fears to lose because eventually, no matter what, he will lose it. NOTHING is permanent. Now if Anakin had specified he was having what he thought were visions and the actual person in them, I'm sure Yoda would have said things differently and probably helped him.

(Also, did Padme get any real health care or like??? Was it too much of a secret???)

(The genocide of the people in the Temple is conveniently glossed through with bare mention)

and then Mustafar. Contrary to Padme (apparently) Obi-Wan shows no clemency. ANAKIN MURDERED THE ELDERLY, THE SICK/INJURED AND BABIES in the temple. Not warriors, not even full grown men and women (some would be full grown but all the able bodied were probably out in the war trying to defend the universe). He should NOT be granted clemency. Anyone else would probably have been executed for this direct horrifying act. But they seem to gloss over how Obi-Wan is always on the defensive, not really because Anakin is more overpowering (And Obi-Wan does use a defensive style, Soresu) but because he is trying to give Anakin time to chill out and come to his senses. That is literally how the choreography was designed.

And Obi-Wan's last words were? Harsh? What? If I remember correctly, Obi-Wan says something like "You were supposed to destroy the Sith not join them" and when Anakin screams he hates Obi-Wan, the return is "you were my brother, Anakin, I loved you."

That is heart-breaking and sad, not harsh. How can you look at Obi-Wan's face in this scene and call that harsh? How can your heart not break for him?!

Say what you will about Obi-Wan leaving Anakin without "finishing him off". Whether or not this is a mercy, whatever. First, we needed a reason for Vader to be in the suit. Second, Anakin was unarmed; Obi-Wan doesn't go around killing unarmed enemies, much less loved ones. (Hello, the slaver from the series, anyone? He didn't kill him; it is against his beliefs. Rex killed him). Can you even imagine how Obi-Wan was feeling? How could he possibly kill his brother? Like, I have so many feelings and not enough words ahdkjgkjgjkf. Anakin does suffer and Obi-Wan has no reason to believe that Anakin would survive his injuries. Furthermore, if I remember correctly, Palpatine ship was coming? Also, Obi-Wan had to get to Padme - she was injured and more of a priority. Because she is someone he can try to save - Anakin is long gone - in more ways than one.

Although it claimed that they are not denying the terrible things Anakin has done; that is almost kind of what they are doing. They are literally putting Anakin's choices and agency to the fault of the Jedi - not just individuals but the culture and people. It is literally gone on to say that if he had left with his wife, the worst could have been avoided. What was the worst?

Oh, a mass murderer got his legs cut off and accidently burned alive. Uhm, okay, that sucks but you do realize he committed genocide of his entire family right? And he choked his wife into unconsciousness.

I can't even with humans.

There is not even a note to Palpatine and how he manipulated Anakin for years. No blame at all on the man we need to blame the most - they put all the blame on the Jedi which just. Blows my mind.

The Clone Wars proved there was no right choice for the Jedi - they were doomed to fall. Not because of anything they did - they did everything they could - but because of Palpatine's plans and schemes. I will never, ever agree that the Jedi failed because of themselves. I do not think that the "institution" was destined to fall ( that "institution" lasted for longer than the Republic). The Jedi were trying so hard - they were kind and good and compassionate and trying so hard for peace and saving as many lives as they could. The Sith were evil. The CIS was evil. The Senate was corrupt. And the Jedi were trying.

There is so much Jedi-blaming for Anakin's attitude, disposition and choices it is literally driving me insane. Why did I do this to myself?

Things delve into a New Hope and immediately there is bashing of the jedi; where Obi-Wan cuts some guy's arm off at a Cantina and Obi- Wan "lying" that Vader killed Anakin. Which, honestly, I could see that being true. Him being Anakin's murderer, at least. Vader may have Anakin's body but even he claims that he killed Anakin Skywalker. Anakin, at least, how he thought he was, was loyal and passionate and loving - or at least he tried to be. Vader is literally none of these things; there is very little of "Anakin" in Vader. And at first glance, it may seem that Obi-Wan and Yoda are setting Luke up to kill "his father" but honestly, I see it more as preparing him to fight Vader and kill him, if necessary. It's a horrible thing, but they do not outright say anything. And honestly, they were right. Vader is willing to kill Luke - he cuts off his hand and fights him. Okay, I have so much to say about this but that is for another time; i will digress about this particular point (of lying and such)

Luke, apparently, decides to forgive Vader and show him mercy (which is claimed the Jedi and Obi-Wan NEVER did for Anakin, no matter what he did for them which is such BS I'm virtually crying rn)

There is a lengthy talk about Luke trying to rebuild the Jedi culture and how it crushed him, his contrast with Obi-Wan's attitude and shame(?) and how trying to be a Jedi has caused him to fail. Because apparently Luke is the only one who apologized and that makes him different I guess? (How many times has Obi-Wan apologized and thought things were his fault even though they weren't?)

I won't get into the Sequel Trilogy because honestly, it does very little to interest me. I am mostly a Prequel- era person mostly because I love Obi-Wan and the strength and compassion of his character. Finn seemed really interesting to me and man I thought having a female Jedi character would be really great - we had some fantastic female Jedi such as Ahsoka, Shaak Tii, Depa Billaba and so many more - but they were rarely the focus and I thought it would be fun. But, I was a bit disappointed because killing off Han Solo the way they did? Eh. Didn't care for it. I was also in the era of Mara Jade, Jacen and Jaina Solo, Anakin Solo and Ben Skywalker (Luke's son) so perhaps I was a little bias. I didn't really understand why Leia and Han would name their child after someone that they didn't really know (although I do have a headcanon concerning Leia and Obi-Wan which I find hilarious that I love).

I didn't particularly care for the Sequel Trilogy. They made it a Skywalker show and they did an emphasis on romantic love and from what I recall from what I have watched, the majority of the characters weren't nearly as interesting or compelling to me. And then bringing Palpatine back, sighs. Why does it always come back to him? That is just exhausting.

I'm not hating on the Sequels; everyone is allowed to like things or whatever. I just didn't; they focused so much on Rey and Kylo Ren (who I actually have a bit of an opinion on but I won't right now) instead of the more intriguing characters. I would have been much more interested in Finn as a Jedi. To overcome what he has been through as a stormtrooper and becoming a Jedi would be a really interesting story. I didn't care for how they handled Luke. And I didn't like how Rey apparently became a master so fast without any real training? Even Anakin, the Chosen One, the most powerful force-wielder, had ten years of training under Obi-Wan and the Jedi. That stuff doesn't just...come; you learn it.

I wrote more about the Sequel Trilogy than I care too. I suppose this is a rather reaction post but wow; I felt like me and this person had watched two separate movie trilogy/shows. It boggles my mind on how people can get the opposite of something that was so clearly shown. I hope I didn't upset anyone too bad. I'm not hear to start a fight, just to get out some feelings.

I wrote this all instead of homework that I desperately need to do. Sighs.

I need to go through my likes and read some good Jedi content cause man, that, that was hard.

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keyenuta · 3 years

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TWST OC: Persona

"I can assure you on this, you've never had a friend like me~"

Name: Imari Djinn

Biographic Info:

Voiced By: Kimura Ryohei

Gender: Male

Age: ??? (Appears to be 17)

Birthday: May 25th

Starsign: Gemini ♊

Height: 5'8"

Eye Color: electric blue

Hair Color: Storm Grey

Homeland: Land of Hot Sands

Professional Status:

Dorm: Scarabia

School Year: Second

Class: 2-A

Student no. 14

Occupation: Student, Kalim's advisor and sorcerer

Club: Writing

Best subject: flying

Fun facts:

Dominant hand: right

Favorite Food: Injera

Least Favorite Food: Baklava

Dislikes: having no freedom, disloyalty, unfairness, anyone who tries to harm Kalim, Jamil, just Jamil. Snakes

Hobby: Flying, writing, freestyle dancing

Talents: Rapping, can identify lists extremely easily

Imari Jelani is a second year student and is an unofficial co-vice dorm leader. He and hos father are genies who due to an act of kindness from the Al-Asim's current head, are in charge of protecting and assisting its family in By matter they may need. And currently he is Kalim's adviser, servant and if needed, sorcerer. He's been with Jamil and Kalim since he was (in genie standards) young, and has grown attached to Kalim, surprised and proud of his generosity and kindness, but he very much dislikes Jamil. Seeing him a snake in the sand who cannot be trusted.

Appearance:

Imari is a boy with dark brown skin and piercing electric blue eyes, even looking at moment in his blue orbs seems like looking into a monstrous thunder storm. Not really helped by his storm greatly hair, which resembles a churning cloud just ready to launch bolts of lightning at any moment.

Wrapped around his head is a sapphire headscarf with silver storm design a across the silky fabric as it matches his eyes as well as the ring around his neck.

Speaking of which, dangling around his neck is a chain which connects to a black ring with a dazzling sapphire gem in the middle. It is the item the genie is sealed in, and also is where his more fantastical power is stored.

Always on his dark brown face is a sly, charming grin. As of he's always wearing a mask or trying to goad some one into trusting him. If you didn't know him, you'd suspect him to be a fragrant liar 24/7.

And as a side note, if he were to be in his genie form, his legs would disappear into a tall of dark storm clouds and lightning.

Personality:

Despite how his demeanor may suggest, Imari is honestly one of the most trustworthy people in NRC. He always pays back his eyes great or small with twice of what he received if you've treated him well. He's honestly a albiet playful, but very compassionate and kind person who if treated well, will treat others with profound respect and kindness.

Like I said earlier he can be playful, his sly demeanor has more weight than that. He will often tease, or make fun of others from time to time, often loving to see their reactions or just to get revenge for a slight. As he did with Jamil in the famous ned bug swarm he may ir may not have had a hand in.

But above all else he's a wise and often teacher like individual, seemingly everything he does or sees can be a lesson fir others. Heck he often gives people hints or advice fir what he notices may be coming. But rarely will he intervene, "what's the use of teaching if i do everything for you" is what he believes in.

Kalim has jokingly called him his teacher s few time cause of how much he advises and helps him with lessons.

And as a side note, he's very much a freedom lover, often doing what comes to his mind whenever able. He's like the air, while you can bind it for a time, it always finds a way to escape sooner or later.

"Unique Magic":

"What you desire": Imari's unique magic isn't really a unique magic, while he can use magic like anyone else, to use his magic to its full extent beyond his binds of being a genie, he has to ask someone is that what you wish or desire. And if they decide yes, he can unleash whatever wish they've requested, freeing all his magic to the forefront.

Trivia:

His name means Loyal genie

Imari is an air genie, making his want for freedom much more than a want but it's a need

His father had made him when Kalim's father wished for a guardian abd advisor for his son. And so one day when Kalim was still a baby, Imari's father had created him from the winds of a storm

He probably has a crush on Kalim

He has a habit of saying no one's ever had a friend like him

Jamil knows Imari is a genie and has often asked what's his game, or has tried to gain his ring.

If you gain Imari's ring it's like you gain his soul, he has to follow your orders without fail no matter what

Jamil has often threatened to tell kalim and others Imari is a genie but Imari will combat that who'd believe him and that kalim would see off as him complimenting him

But much to his shock in ch.4 Kalim revealed he knew for a long time, shocking both his aides

This was probably seen when Kalim often described Imari as his genie or something similar, but Imari thought kalim was just praising him or something

After events in ch.4 Kalim freed Imari from his ring, and after that, despite him no longer being forced to, to repay kalim for such a gift, he'd be with the heir until the day he passes to repay it.

He and his father if they were in our world would be Africans, specifically Ethiopians.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #twst #imari djinn #imari #djinn #twisted wonderland scarabia #scarabia oc #scarabia genie #twisted wonderland kalim #kalim al asim #twst jamil #jamil viper

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theusurpersdog · 4 years

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Floppy Ears

A Dance with Dragons is the most important arc Daenerys has had since she hatched her dragons at the end of A Game of Thrones, and is a huge turning point for the trajectory of her character. And while GRRM’s books have always been incredibly detailed and focused on character, this book and A Feast for Crows is when he really mastered that style. Those two things combined make Daenerys’ ten chapters incredibly dense, and full of very important details. If I were to write it all out in one post, it would be just ridiculously long (and considering the length of my other posts, that’s really saying something. . .). To try and keep these posts from turning into books, I’m going to split my analysis of Dany in A Dance with Dragons into three separate posts; one dealing with the political aspects of her arc, the next a look at the outside forces that influence Dany’s decision making, and the last will center on the personal struggle that defines her arc. Here is the first, where I breakdown the political merits of Queen Daenerys Targaryen. . .

Holding Court

Running parallel to all of the symbolic choices and struggles Daenerys makes in A Dance with Dragons is the practical decisions she makes as Queen of Meereen. GRRM is famous for his quote about “Aragorn’s tax policy”, and it is clear that he tries to answer that question in this book. We get chapter after chapter that gives Daenerys a new political trial, and get to see and examine how she decides to move passed it. The first three books gave us small moments to look at and decide how Daenerys would rule Westeros, but A Dance with Dragons gives us definitive examples of how she would. This book asks would Daenerys be a good queen? and also gives us the answer: No.

Whenever Daenerys has to face the Meereenese as their queen, she thinks to herself that she is putting on her “floppy ears”, in reference to something Brown Ben Plumm tells her:

"Man wants to be the king o' the rabbits, he best wear a pair o' floppy ears."

This quote works so well to summarize Dany’s time in Meereen for a couple different reasons. The first is that it perfectly describes how Daenerys feels about being queen; she hates the rich Meereenese, former slavers who plot behind her back and have traditions that Dany hates, and she could never view herself as one of them. Dany feels as if she must pretend to be a part of them. But it also gets at a deeper truth of Daenerys’ arc - she is just pretending to be a queen; it doesn’t come naturally to her. She has to don her “floppy ears” to be a queen, and start pretending. She has to face many impossible choices in this book, and her anger is righteous in many circumstances, but that doesn’t change the fact that she is not a good queen, and in fact hardly even wants to be one. I’ll get into it more when I breakdown the personal part of Dany’s A Dance with Dragons arc (this meta focusing on the political), but to be queen of Meereen, Dany has to fight against her own nature. The way GRRM plotted this book so expertly, all of the political struggles Daenerys faces are reflections of her own personal struggles with staying in Meereen, each problem designed to get at a different part of Dany’s psyche and push her closer to the choice she ultimately makes in Daenerys IX and X.

When Daenerys holds court in Meereen, she is faced with many grievances that she must have an answer to, many from the noble class that she despises. What I find most interesting about these, is that Daenerys has something in common with all of the men she refuses to help. These are the stories she hears:

A rich woman came, whose husband and sons had died defending the city walls. During the sack she had fled to her brother in fear. When she returned, she found her house had been turned into a brothel.

A boy came, younger than Dany, slight and scarred, dresses up in a frayed grey tokar trailing silver fringe. His voice broke when he told of how two of his father’s household slaves had risen up the night the gate broke. One had slain his father, the other his elder brother. Both had raped his mother before killing her as well. The boy had escaped with no more than the scar upon his face, but one of the murderers was still living in his father’s house, and the other had joined the queen’s soldiers as one of the Mother’s Men.

The parallels Dany shares to these people are quite clear. The first woman she hears fled her house when the city was sacked, just as Rhaella fled the Red Keep when she was pregnant with Dany; yet Dany refuses to give the Meereenese woman her home back, even though Dany herself is determined to retake King’s Landing in her family’s name.

Daenerys also parallels the son in the second story, who has to see the men who raped and murdered his mother live in his house and work for the queen (Dany). This sounds very much like Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch being rewarded for killing Elia Martell. Dany turns the son away, and continues to let the murdering rapist serve her; yet, when she thinks of how the same thing happened to her family, Dany refers to the men as “dogs” and is disgusted by Robert Baratheon for allowing it.

The most interesting decision Daenerys makes, though, is how she responds to this story:

Grazdan zo Galare asked that he be granted a portion of their earnings. “They owe their skill to me,” he insisted. “I plucked them from the auction bloc and gave them to the loom.”

Dany listened quietly, her face still. When he was done. She said, “What was the name of the old weaver?”

“The slave?” Grazdan shifted his weight, frowning. “She was . . . Elza, it might have been. Or Ella. It was six years ago she died. I have owned so many slaves, Your Grace.”

“Let us say Elza. Here is our ruling. From the girls, you shall have nothing. It was Elza who taught them weaving, not you. From you, the girls shall have a new loom, the finest coin can buy. That is for forgetting the name of the old woman.”

Through these grievances, GRRM is giving us the chance to judge Daenerys based on her own morality. There is plenty of debate about what exactly it means that Dany forgets Hazzea’s name in her last chapter, but the above passage tells us what that means to Dany herself. When she sees that behavior in someone else, she is appalled; she goes out of her way to punish Grazdan specifically for forgetting the slave’s name. Judging Daenerys by her own standards, she has failed Hazzea.

Besides these stories painting Dany as a hypocrite (since she is doing everything that she turns the Meereenese away for), they also start to teach Dany a lesson about being a queen; it is really hard. Dany never realizes how these stories connect to her, but she does begin to understand how impossible it is to make some decisions. When she turns down the son whose mother was raped and house stolen, this is what she thinks:

I am queen over a city built on dust and death. Dany had no choice but to deny him. She had declared a blanket pardon for all crimes committed during the sack. Nor would she punish slaves for rising up against their masters.

And after the boy lunges to attack her, but trips on his tokar and is led away, Dany realizes that that the Harpy has gained another Son.

And while Dany never consciously thinks back on the decisions she’s made and how similar they are to Robert Baratheon’s, on a subconscious level she does soften towards him. When she watches the pit fighter gored by a boar, she thinks of him:

A terrible creature and a terrible death. For a heartbeat she felt almost sorry for the Usurper.

Dany from the first three books would never give even that much thought to Robert Baratheon.

The last decision Daenerys makes while holding court that day, is when she is presented with Hazzea’s bones. While Drogon had never killed a person before, we learn that it is a growing problem that he’s killing people’s livestock:

Her dragons had grown too large to be content with rats and cats and dogs. The more they eat, the larger they will grow, Ser Barristan had warned her, and the larger they grow, the more they’ll eat. Drogon especially ranged far afield and could easily devour a sheep a day.

Since Drogon is stealing and eating so many people’s sheep, and Daenerys doesn’t want to sit and speak to all of them, she agrees to give them all the value of their sheep:

The pronouncement was received in sullen silence. You would think they might be happier, Dany thought. They have what they came for. Is there no way to please these people?

This quote says a lot about Daenerys. In her mind, the people should be happy because she’s willing to give them back what they lost, failing to consider how much trouble it would be for them to gather up the bones of their dead animals, bring them to Dany’s pyramid, and wait all day for just the chance to be heard by her. Dany thinks many of them lie about Drogon to try and get money or sheep, and thinks they should just be happy she’s giving them anything at all.

It’s also one of the first times that Daenerys’ thoughts drift to how much she hates the Meereenese. I think most people just assume that Daenerys’ hatred of the city is limited to the Nobles and former Slavers who disgust her, but that isn’t true; she thinks that she hates the former slavers more often because she is forced to interact with them more often, but when Dany is around the freedman and lower classes she doesn’t like them either:

Daenerys was sick unto death of Zhak and Merreq; she was sick of all the Meereenese, great and small alike.

Dany tries very hard to make her rule of Meereen work, and from a broad political perspective even manages to achieve that, but her own personal bias against the city make it impossible to sustain the peace she creates. While a lot of Dany’s fights are over important things, the small battles she chooses are very telling; she hates the way the Meereenese style their hair and has her advisors shave their head because of it, hates the local food and delicacies, and takes a hard stand against the fighting pits (I’ll get into that more later). In the big picture, these little battles Dany chooses to fight are meaningless and just serve to alienate her from the people, but she does it anyway. Because she hates Meereen; not just the slavery or the toxic elements of the culture, but everything.

All of these decisions Daenerys makes while holding court occur in the first chapter, because there is a huge gap where she doesn’t hear the people’s complaints. It isn’t clear exactly how long she goes between hearing the people, but Daario tells her that the people don’t believe she is real, which implies quite a long time. And when Daario tells her she should, she replies:

“No. On the morrow I will be a woman wed, and Hizdahr will be king. Let him hold court. These are his people.”

The only reason she does hold court is because Daario said she would and Dany doesn’t want to disappoint him. But just the thought exhausts her:

The prospect of wrestling with Meereen once more left her feeling weary.

Daenerys really does throw herself into being queen - marrying Hizdahr proves that - but she still can’t bring herself to do the day to day tasks of a queen.

Choices

Seeing the decisions Daenerys makes when holding court gives us a window into how she handles small issues within the city, but there is also several times when Dany has to make very important choices that could affect thousands of lives. Most of these choices have no good answer, only the lesser of two evils, and Dany has to weigh what is most important to her knowing that people are going to be hurt by her decision either way.

But while that is mostly the case, there is one issue in which it isn’t: the fighting pits. Compared to the other choices she is forced to make in this book, it seems like Daenerys should not be bothered by allowing the fighting pits to reopen, considering the loss of life is *relatively* small and only by those who choose to fight. Yet, it is the issue Daenerys takes the hardest stand against, and completely refuses to do it herself, waiting until Hizdahr is King and letting him do it instead:

A queen must listen to her people, Dany reminded herself. “After the wedding Hizdahr will be king. Let him reopen the fighting pits if he wishes. I want no part of it.” Let the blood be on his hands, not mine.

Before I get into why Dany refusing to do this was a bad choice, I want to clarify something; there actually is plenty of good reasons not to open the pits. As we see through Tyrion’s eyes, slaves are still being brought in to fight, and we see that again when Hizdahr tells Dany that the dwarves are unaware they will have to fight wild animals with wooden swords. The pits shouldn’t have been reopened until Dany had a system in place that assured those kinds of abuses couldn’t occur.

But Dany isn’t thinking of any of that when she refuses to open the pits. To her, they represent everything wrong with Meereen; watching men die as sport is grotesque to her. That’s a perfectly reasonable thing to believe, and I don’t begrudge her for holding that position, but no one else in the city agrees with her. The pit fighters themselves are coming to Dany, begging to fight again:

"Before, I fight for master. You say, fight for you. I say, fight for me." The huge man thumped his chest with a fist as big as a ham. "For gold. For glory."

And not only is the fighting pits a part of the culture, but it’s also a part of the Ghiscari religion; the fights are viewed as sacrifices to the gods. Daenerys is already viewed as an outsider in the city, and refusing to allow this part of their culture is just another thing that turns the Ghiscari against her, especially because Dany never offers a reason for why she won’t open the pits; we see her argue Hizdahr’s points for him, to mock how often he comes to her, but she never actually makes a case against him. And even in her own thoughts, we never fully understand why the fighting pits bother her so much. When she has to watch the fights, the blood and killing of it all makes her nauseous, but she wasn’t bothered by that when Strong Belwas fought for her in front of the gates, and in the very same chapter isn’t bothered by Drogon’s violence.

The fighting pits is the one thing Dany absolutely refuses to concede. Even when she agrees to marry Hizdahr, close the gates to the refugees from Astapor, and let Yunkai restart their slave trade, she won’t open the pits and never does, letting the responsibility go to Hizdahr. And when she finally decides to leave Meereen, it is after watching Barsena die fighting. It seems like a small thing for Dany to be so hung up, and even she realizes that:

Better a few should die in the pit then thousands on the gates. This is the price of peace.

But she can’t go through with it. This is one of the biggest mistakes Dany makes as queen of Meereen. And she makes it for personal reasons; even though she could offer Hizdahr and other supporters of the fighting pits valid political reasons not to open them, she never does, because she doesn’t care about them. She refuses to open the pits because it is too Meereenese for her tastes.

Another major choice Daenerys has to make is how to deal with Astapor and Yunkai, which have fallen to disaster since she left them. The two cities represent two opposite decisions Dany made in the past; she attacked and burned Astapor, but peacefully moved past Yunkai after they agreed to free their slaves. Yet both have problems that are impossible to solve, and force Dany into choices she doesn’t want to make.

Yunkai has gone back to slavery since Dany marched passed, and since she left their military intact is threatening to march on Meereen; the Yunkai’i have blocked off the bay and plan on starving the city out. But Daenerys doesn’t have enough food to support the city, and without the power of her dragons can’t compete with Yunkai’s army. The only way Dany can save Meereen from Yunkai is to allow them to resume their slave trade, which goes against everything she wanted to stand for. The whole reason Dany decided to stay in Meereen was guilt and the realization that the people she left behind were going to get hurt, and she didn’t want to leave another city behind. And having to let the Yunkai’i go back to slaving is a harsh reminder of that. But it is her only choice to keep Meereen free, and it was the right choice. If she tried to fight Yunkai, she would have lost and then all three cities of Slaver’s Bay would return to slavery. But it is a choice that takes a piece of her, and makes her feel like everything she fought for was pointless.

Looked at it in isolation, the situation with Yunkai seems to suggest that Dany’s mistake was passing the city without military force, and Dany herself would agree with that:

She was coming to regret leaving the Yellow City untaken after defeating its army in the field. The Wise Masters had returned to slaving as soon as she moved on, and were busy raising levies, hiring sellswords, and making alliances against her.

But then Daenerys has to face what has become of Astapor, which she did attack with force, and it’s even worse:

Cleon the self-styled Great was no better, however. The Butcher King had restored slavery to Astapor, the only change being that the former slaves were now the masters and the former masters were now the slaves.

At first, Dany is untroubled by the fall of Astapor, because they are no threat to her and even march against her enemies. Then the first rider appears:

"He came out of the morning mists, a rider on a pale horse, dying. His mare was staggering as she approached the city gates, her sides pink with blood and lather, her eyes rolling with terror. Her rider called out, 'She is burning, she is burning,' and fell from the saddle”

Soon, hundreds and thousands of people fleeing Astapor arrive outside the gates of Meereen, begging to be let inside the walls. Daenerys’ first instinct is to help them, and she tries her best to do so:

“I will not turn away from them,” she said stubbornly. “A queen must know the sufferings of her people.”

“Go if you wish, ser. I will not detain you. I will not detain any of you.” Dany vaulted down from the horse. “I cannot heal them, but I can show them that their mother cares.”

Dany is willing to ride out amongst those suffering from the bloody flux, because she sees herself as their mother and every part of her wants to be able to help them. She even intended on letting them in the gates. But then Daario brings news of the Yunkish armies gathering in the hills, and again Dany is forced to make an awful, but right, choice:

She wanted to scream, to gnash her teeth and tear her clothes and beat upon the floor. Instead she said, “Close the gates. Will you make me say it thrice?” They were her children, but she could not help them now.

Even though this is an awful call to have to make, it is the right one. Leaving the gates open long enough to let everyone from Astapor in would have left Meereen exposed to Yunkai’s attack, and Meereen barely has enough food to feed their own people and wouldn’t have been able to sustain thousands more. Most importantly, though, is that the people from Astapor are carrying the Bloody Flux, which is basically an even more contagious version of dysentery; men who Daenerys had sent into the Astapori camps to help feed them all caught the flux and most died from it. If she had let them into Meereen, the whole city could have been wiped out.

In the end, I think Daenerys made the right choices when it came to Astapor and Yunkai (even though the decisions she made were far from perfect or even good). But, why did she have to make those hard choices at all? Ruling a city was never going to be easy, but the unrest in both Astapor and Yunkai, though she approached them with two entirely different strategies, is making a clear point: Daenerys never should have left them. Meereen is the only city of Slaver’s Bay that is able to keep the slaves freed, and it is also the only city where Daenerys stayed. No matter how radical the change is (like Astapor), or subtle (Yunkai), someone needs to stay and make sure the change stays in place. So, while Daenerys ultimately made the right choices to keep her own city safe, she is the one who left Astapor and Yunkai in positions to fall apart.

The biggest problem Daenerys faces inside Meereen is the threat from the Sons of the Harpy, a shadow-group of murderers who target freedmen. This is also the best ruling Daenerys does as queen, rarely making a poor choice and mostly making the best one. Trying to ease the tensions between the Nobles and the Freedmen is an almost impossible task, though, because of the long history of Meereen’s slave trade; and the sacking of the city only served to make it worse. The freed slaves are entirely justified in their hatred of their former masters, but since the slaves were given immunity for crimes they committed during the sack, the masters are even more horrible to the freedmen than they would have been otherwise. Since noble women were raped, property was defaced or stolen, and people were murdered, tensions in Meereen are running higher than ever as Daenerys tries to stop the killing.

The first steps she takes against the Harpy is to mix her City Guard, which was previously all Unsullied, to equal parts freedmen and Shavepates (former nobles who have taken to Dany’s cause), so that the Sons of the Harpy would have to kill their own; and to pay for these men, she enacts a “blood tax” that charges the nobles whenever the Harpy kills someone.

Even though these are good ideas, the killings don’t stop, and Daenerys has to try something else; eventually she decides on taking young hostages from the noble families, under threat of death if the killings continue. When she is actually faced with having to kill her hostages, though, she cannot go through with it; and that was the right decision. If she had killed them, it would have only served to give the noble families another excuse to fight against her rule and would have been used as evidence of her cruelty. By sparing them and befriending them, Daenerys is actually building bonds and relationships with the next generation of noble families that can only benefit her in the future.

But Daenerys can’t wait years to see the killings stop, and needs a solution to stop the Harpy immediately. The only thing that could do that is a permanent tie between Daenerys, who represents (in the eyes of the former masters) the former slaves, and a noble family; and the best way to do that is a marriage to Hizdahr zo Loraq, who has the Green Grace’s approval and has offered to marry Daenerys. She knows that marrying Hizdahr is her only choice:

“My people are bleeding. Dying. A queen belongs not to herself, but to the realm. Marriage or carnage, those are my choices. A wedding or a war.”

She resists this decision for a long time, and then tells Hizdahr that she won’t marry him unless Meereen goes 90 days with no murders. The reason she resists the marriage are obvious; it is the ultimate act of giving up her own agency for Meereen. Once she commits to marrying Hizdahr, she is losing the chance to choose who she loves, or to make a marriage alliance in Westeros. The idea of giving up herself in this way is devastating to Dany, and she’s only willing to make the choice when she’s absolutely sure that it will work, and that she has no other choice. But she does marry Hizdahr, because she knows that as a queen, she should put her people first:

“A queen loves where she must, not where she will."

Her decision to marry Hizdahr is the one true attempt Daenerys makes to be a part of the Meereenese culture, and the way she blends Meereenese wedding traditions with her own – accepting the harmless and replacing the offensive – is a great example of how Daenerys could move forward in Meereen peacefully.

Now that I’ve explained what Dany did right fighting the Sons of the Harpy, she does make some morally wrong calls. The killings make Daenerys justifiably angry, but the way she handles that anger is letting the Shavepate torture suspects and their kids:

Mercy, thought Dany. They will have the dragon’s mercy. “Skahaz, I have changed my mind. Question the man sharply.”

“I could. Or I could question the daughters sharply whilst the father looks on. That will wring some names from him.”

“Do as you think best, but bring me names.” Her fury was a fire in her belly.

It is one thing to torture someone you only suspect of being involved in a crime, but it is even worse to torture girls just to get at their father. And while this is the only instance we hear of Daenerys allowing the torture of people she knows are innocent to try and get confessions, it’s made clear that the Shavepate is torturing a lot of people:

“I do not doubt that Skahaz would soon have me confessing. A day with him, and I will be one of the Harpy’s Sons. Two days, and I will be the Harpy. Three, and it will turn out I slew your father too, back in the Sunset Kingdoms when I was yet a boy. Then he will impale me on a stake and you can watch me die. . . but afterward the killings will go on.”

“I do not trust these confessions. You’ve brought me too many of them, all of them worthless.”

The first quote is from Hizdahr, showing that the Shavepate has a reputation amongst the noble families of being especially brutal. Dany allowing that kind of behavior gives the nobles real reasons to hide behind when they don’t support her. And the second quote is from Dany herself, showing that Hizdahr’s perspective wasn’t biased, and the Shavepate truly is getting false confessions from people; which more than suggests his methods are particularly brutal.

Furthering the divide between the Nobles and Freedman, Daenerys forces the Nobles into labor, digging fields to plant trees. Xaro Xhoan Daxos notices this when he enters the city, and uses it against Dany when she refuses to let the other cities have slaves, since the men forced to work for Dany are asking to be made slaves again.

Besides marrying Hizdahr, the biggest choice Dany has to make for the good of Meereen is chaining her dragons. Locking them away is a huge sacrifice for Daenerys, since she sees them as her children, and it leaves her at a political disadvantage when negotiating with Yunkai and Qarth (since the dragons are her only real advantage). Without them, Dany is worried she won’t even be able to hold Meereen:

Without dragons, how could she hope to hold Meereen, much less win back Westeros?

And she knows that she could destroy her enemies with them:

She was the blood of the dragon. She could kill the Sons of the Harpy, and the sons of the sons, and the sons of the sons of the sons.

But Dany also knows that however useful dragons are for killing enemies, they can’t bring peace to the city:

But a dragon could not feed a hungry child nor help a dying woman’s pain.

On the surface, Daenerys chaining her dragons seems like a very good thing she did; but again, just like with the disasters of Astapor and Yunkai, Daenerys helps create a problem, waits until it hits a fever pitch, and then makes the right choice at the end. All the way back in A Storm of Swords, Daenerys was already having fears about her dragons:

"Did any of them try to burn their way free?" That was the thing that frightened Dany the most.

Also in that book, Drogon gets upset and bites Irri hard enough to make her bleed. So, even before A Dance with Dragons starts, there is plenty of warning signs about what her dragons are capable of. And once the book starts, and some time has passed for the dragons to grow even larger, it’s clear the dragons have only become more unruly:

Her dragons were growing wild of late. Rhaegal had snapped at Irri, and Viserion had set Reznak’s tokar ablaze the last time the seneschal had called. I have left them too much to themselves, but where am I to find the time for them?

And Drogon has been out hunting, killing many people’s livestock:

In my meta about Daenerys’ personal arc, I’ll discuss more of how she could let the dragons get so far out of hand before intervening, but right now I just want to draw attention to how bad a decision that was politically. Even before Hazzea is killed, Drogon burning the sheep is starting to become a problem between Daenerys and her people; as she noticed when she agreed to pay the people off, it doesn’t make them happy. And it’s especially bad that Daenerys is starting to lose their support, because they are all she has; since the nobles don’t support her, Daenerys depends on the freedmen and lower classes to keep her crown.

But the biggest issue with Daenerys allowing Drogon to roam the hillsides, is how obvious it was that an incident like Hazzea was inevitably going to happen. Once Hazzea is killed, Daenerys’ rule depends on the silence of a grieving father; because, if her murder ever got out, the city of Meereen would abandon Daenerys. It also puts her in a position where she has to take advantage of one of her people:

Dany chose to pay the blood price. No one could tell her the worth of a daughter, so she set it at one hundred times the worth of a lamb. “I would give Hazzea back to you if I could,” she told the father, “but some things are beyond the power of even a queen. Her bones shall be laid to rest in the Temple of the Graces, and a hundred candles shall burn day and night in her memory. Come back to me each year upon her nameday, and your other children shall not want . . . but this tale must never pass your lips again.”

“Men will ask,” the grieving father had said. “They will ask me where Hazzea is and how she died.”

“She died of a snakebite,” Reznak mo Reznak insisted. “A ravening wolf carried her off. A sudden sickness took her. Tell them what you will, but never speak of dragons.”

Daenerys rule rests on the good will and/or fear of a grieving father. All because she put her dragons before her people.

Tokars

The choices Daenerys has to make with Astapor and Yunkai, where she has to leave people to be enslaved or die because she can’t save everyone, start to break Dany’s will and it gets harder and harder for her to keep giving parts of herself to Meereen. But those are not the reasons that Daenerys decides to abandon the city at the end of A Dance with Dragons; I touched upon it earlier, but the real reason her rule in Meereen is unsustainable is that Daenerys doesn’t want to be a queen. She holds onto the idealized version she had, of being a mother to her people and feeling as if she belongs; but the actual day to day responsibilities of being a Queen, of representing even the people she doesn’t like, and making hard choices, is not for her. She is still a young girl, and often times foolish in the way she carries herself.

I want to preface this next section by saying this: if it seems like I’m being hard on Dany, that’s because I am. She, more than any other character in A Song of Ice and Fire, should be held to a higher standard; because she wields more power than anyone else. Cersei as Queen Mother and Jon as Lord Commander come the closest, but Cersei’s power is tied to Tommen and easily taken by Margaery, and Jon’s power is limited to the very small number of men in the Night’s Watch. Daenerys controls an entire city, and has three dragons to do whatever she wants with. And Dany intentionally sought her power out, completely out of self-interest; while her time in Slaver’s Bay evolves into a humanitarian effort, it began as her trying to gather an army to take back her family’s throne – not to better the lives of the smallfolk, but because she feels Westeros belongs to her. She went looking for power, and managed to get it; enough so that people live and die based on her choices. Because more lives are at stake, Daenerys should be held to a higher standard. Keep that in mind while reading. . .

From the first chapter, Daenerys’ immaturity is on display:

If he proposes again that I wed King Cleon, I’ll throw a slipper at his head.

She finds holding court very boring, and it’s hard for her to keep her “floppy ears” on:

The slippers the Butcher King had sent her had grown too uncomfortable. Dany kicked them off and sat with one foot tucked beneath her and the other swinging back and forth. It was not a very regal pose, but she was tired of being regal. The crown had given her a headache, and her buttocks had gone to sleep.

But while holding court, she manages to keep her discontent mostly to herself. Meeting with Xaro Xhoan Daxos, she is less diplomatic:

She took a cherry from the bowl on the table and threw it at his nose

His jeweled nose made a tempting target. This time Dany threw an apricot at him.

I cannot stress enough how immature this is; the Queen of Meereen throwing fruit at one of the Thirteen of Qarth. However annoying she finds Xaro, a queen should carry herself with more self-control.

The tokar, a traditional Meereenese garb worn by the nobility, is the way GRRM symbolizes Daenerys’ lack of patience with Meereen and queenship. This is how she describes the tokar:

The garment was a clumsy thing, a long loose shapeless sheet that had to be wound around her hips and under an arm and over a shoulder, its dangling fringes carefully layered and displayed. Wound too loose, it was like to fall off; wound too tight, it would tangle, trip, and bind. Even wound properly, the tokar required its wearer to hold it in place with the left hand. Walking in a tokar demanded small, mincing steps and exquisite balance, lest one tread upon those heavy trailing fringes. It was not a garment meant for any man who had to work. The tokar was a master's garment, a sign of wealth and power.

Daenerys is right that it is a garment for the wealthy, because the design of the tokar makes it impossible for practical use, so her hatred isn’t entirely unjustified. But the tokar also represents the tightwire Dany has to walk as queen; one step out of line, and the tokar could fall off, and she would lose her floppy ears. And that’s why she hates it: all of her attention goes to keeping it on, and it limits her freedom. The tokar is everything she hates about Meereen. Knowing the tokar represents Dany’s complicated relationship with Meereen, it’s fascinating to see the details GRRM has woven into her chapters:

With Jhiqui's help, she wound the tokar about herself correctly on her third attempt.

Meereen being the third city she conquered in Slaver’s Bay, the symbolism is pretty clear. The idea that she gets her third attempt correct also reinforces a point I’ve been trying to make through this post; for all of her missteps, Daenerys actually manages to achieve peace in Meereen. But in the end, she throws it away (but I’ll get into that more later).

When Hazzea’s father lingers in her court after she has dismissed everyone, it angers Dany:

As Dany stood, her tokar began to slip. She caught it and tugged it back in place. "You with the sack," she called, "did you wish to speak with us? You may approach."

The tokar is the physical manifestation of Dany’s “floppy ears”, and when she lets her queenly façade slip, so does her garment. But it’s very important that while the tokar sometimes slips, Dany never lets it fall. Like the mistakes she makes as queen, she can fix her dress before it all comes crashing down. She can, and did, make the peace in Meereen work, even if she came dangerously close to failing; Daenerys learned to walk the tightwire of Meereen. The only way the tokar will fall is if she chooses to take it off.

And that’s exactly what she does. After marrying Hizdahr, she agrees to attend the fighting pits with him, and that’s when she hits her breaking point. Through all the sacrifices she has to make, keeping the fighting pits closed is the one thing she never had to give in to. So, when she is faced with seeing her last stand fall to the Meereenese, she is looking for reasons to walk. Then Barsena begins her fight:

The boar buried his snout in Barsena’s belly and began rooting out her entrails. The smell was more than the queen could stand. The heat, the flies, the shouts from the crowd. . . I cannot breathe.

I think people focus too much on Drogon’s shocking return in the fighting pits, and forget what Dany was doing before he arrived. Practically speaking, Drogon returns because he smells meat and blood and wants to kill; but symbolically speaking, Drogon returns at the moment Daenerys stopped pretending in Meereen. And previously when Daenerys was faced with the choice of saving her dragons or saving her people, she was willing to chain the dragons. But this time, Daenerys is willing to let people die to save Drogon:

Drogon raised his head, blood dripping from his teeth. The hero leapt onto his back and drove the iron spearpoint down at the base of the dragon’s long scaled neck.

Dany and Drogon screamed as one.

Ser Barristan held her tightly. “Look away, Your Grace.”

“Let me go!” Dany twisted from his grasp. The world seemed to slow as she cleared the parapet.

In total, Drogon killed 214 people and wounded three times as many before he finally leaves with Dany. Politically speaking, this is a disaster for Daenerys. The Yunkish envoys were caught in the fire and killed, as well as many highborn nobles and even freedmen. Where Daenerys was able to cover up Hazzea’s death, there is no hiding what Drogon has done in Daznak’s Pit. And that’s why in her absence, Meereen completely collapses and war begins.

But Daenerys was never going to go back to the city as their queen. When she is in the Dothraki Sea, she tries to convince herself to go back, even walking toward the city, but even before Drogon arrived in the Pit, Daenerys gave up on the peace she had worked so hard to make. The tokar is her “floppy ears”, the thing that allows her to be a queen of the rabbits; to take it off, Daenerys is saying she has no interest in doing that anymore.

Like I said at the beginning, Daenerys’ A Dance with Dragons arc splits into two halves – the personal and the political. If Daenerys X is the personal reckoning she has with herself to embrace Fire & Blood, Daenerys IX (the chapter in Daznak’s Pit) is the political falling out she has with Meereen. The only reason she can have her moment on the Dothraki Sea is because she has already given up on the one thing holding her back from her family’s legacy. It is only fitting that the last thing she does before Drogon appears, is take off the only thing tying her to Meereen:

She lifted her veil and let it flutter away. She took her tokar off as well. The pearls rattled softly against one another as she unwound the silk.

“Khaleesi?” Irri asked. “What are you doing?”

“Taking off my floppy ears.”

#daenerys targaryen #anti daenerys #game of thrones #A Song of Ice and Fire #a dance with dragons

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spc4eva · 3 years

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Mandokar: Chapter Two

Summary: Clan Vizsla returns to the Tribe and Senaar settles into her new life.

Word Count: 15,125

Author Notes: Just some more info about the Anaxian race that I've created!

An offshoot of the Sephi race, removed by generations of evolution based on Anaxes' climate. Appearance: Humanoid, sub-human, differentiated by long pointed ears (longer than most Sephi) which are hyper sensitive to the forests that they dwell in. Skin tends to be tan to dark, though there are a few fairer skinned Anaxians. Sunlight is powerful, despite the forest, which is why the melanin in their skin tends to be strong to act as a buffer when they leave the woods or are in glades. Eye hues range in earth tones, mostly brown, but a few are green. Gold is another color, while a bit rare and considered blessed amongst the people. Royalty almost always has the golden eyes. Hair color is also dark, from jet black to medium brown. Blonde, red, and light brown hair is almost unheard of and incredibly unnatural amongst Anaxians. On average, they get to the same height as humans, but tend to be more slender and willowy. Anaxians eyes work well for the dim lighting of the forest acolves and long nights. They have the ability to see in little to no light, but not utter darkness. Due to their lighter bone structures, Anaxians are quicker and more agile than other races, making for spectacular warriors should they have the inclination. Light footed from years of hunting in their forests, they are exceptionally gifted with stealth and able to fight with acrobatic feats. Despite these abilities, Anaxians have the drawbacks of being more frail than other humanoid races. For their speed and stealth, they are more easily overwhelmed by strength.

Goddess Marks/Tears: markings on the skin of Anaxians which are similar to beauty marks. Rather than be dark, these marks are the size of tears and shaped the same. Sometimes they are also referred to as petals. Each mark is gold, humming with a shimmering iridescence which is contrasted by an Anaxian's dark complexion. Most Anaxians have between 5-10 marks, though those descended of purer bloodline - ie. nobles or royalty - often have more. They are not tattoos and are on an Anaxian from birth. Those that possess a lot of them are considered 'Chosen' by the Goddess, especially if the marks play out in a more purposeful manner than just sporadic petals against the skin, placed randomly. Some Anaxians get more tattooed on them in an attempt to seem more special and it's not uncommon. However, the tattoos don't have the same glow as the natural marks. Often Anaxians will use the tattoos to link their marks together in designs.

Note: Anaxians are not long lived like Sephis. They live 80-100 standard years on average. Anaxians do not reach sexual maturity until 20 years old, taking a little longer to grow through their adolescence into adult bodies.

Anaxians are also not well traveled. They don't like to leave their home planet often. Pure Sephis often call them forest bumpkins, so there's a little love lost between the similar races.

Most of Anaxian culture was inspired by wood elves from Lord of the Rings with a mixture of Celtic heritage.

Inspiration photo for Anaxians (and Sena specifically) is this

Crossposted on AO3

The helmet was more comfortable with the padding, but she wasn't forced to wear it much around the ship with her aliit. Senaar Vizsla. She repeated it numerous times in her head, staring at the ceiling as she cocooned herself in a pile of blankets on the floor. Hux, her buir now, told her not to dwell too deeply on what had happened on Anaxes. He'd said that nothing could be done and carrying that in her heart would just hurt. When she asked about her papa, he explained that he was marching far away, but one day she'd see him again. He taught her the prayer to say every night before bed and that more names would join her papa's, but it was her duty to remember them and love them. Sena was fully committed to becoming Mandalorian, even if she was a bit nervous and frightened by the shock of everything that had happened. Be strong. Papa would be watching and she had to make him proud... buir and ori'vod too.

" Sen'ika ," Paz entreated, drawing her attention as she leered at the ceiling of the ship, hiding in her blankets as if it were a toasty little garrison. Hyperspace was cold, much colder than most of Anaxes' yearly climate. "Come sit over here."

Dragging her blankets with her, helmet nestled against her tummy, she sat beside Paz and eyed what he was working on. Set in front of him was the rifle he had used during their escape from Genmaris. Now, it was in several pieces, he had a cloth and swatches of cotton, many of which were stained with blaster residue. He was cleaning the weapon.

"Have you ever taken one apart before?" Paz inquired lightly, gazing down at her with icy blue eyes. Despite how shockingly pale his eyes were, they were still kind and warm. He had short blonde hair, messy from his helmet, and was probably not much older than her despite his height and fitness.

"I know how to take the slide off of my pistol, but I've never taken it apart like this," Sena admitted, cheeks burning as she wondered if she was severely behind in her knowledge. What if the other children made fun of her? What if she was stupider than kids a lot younger than her? Would her buir disown her? Take the helmet back and tell her to get out?

"Most firearms are the same aside from the coils in buttstocks of rifles and shotguns," Paz eased, sensing the girl's worry. "You will need to know not only how to fire your weapons, but how to clean them and assess any issues you may have while firing. Weapons are our religion, so we must take good care of them to protect our people. Now, let's begin-"

Paz showed her the various pieces of the rifle, the charging handle, the bolt, where cartridges were loading. There were bits of information that were familiar, as there was some overlap from what she knew about her pistol. Having her hands on it, manipulating the pieces, putting them together and taking them apart - everything clicked rather swiftly. The visual and physical method of learning, rather than out of a holobook, took repetition and application. The distraction was greatly appreciated and Sena was keen to prove that she was a quick learner.

They moved onto a blaster, Hux dropping down from the cockpit, cocking his head as Sena cleaned the weapon. "I thought I told you to clean them," he said, directing his attention toward Paz.

"I can help!" Sena insisted quickly, before Paz even had the chance to offer.

"I thought she should begin her lessons," her vod retorted, stiffening under the tart gaze of their buir .

"Teach yes, but don't let her do all the work. I assigned you this task," Hux reminded him duly, looking to Sena next, who jolted erect under his pale gaze. "Let your ori'vod finish the rest. Come along, there are many things you need to learn, ad'ika."

More distractions. Scampering up from her blankets, she followed her buir deeper into the ship and away from Paz as he was left by the armory. This part of the Kote was filled with weights, a pull up bar, a sparring dummy, thick padded mats, and other work out items. " Buyca ." Bucket.

Sena slipped it back on and fiddled with her belt, making certain that her belt was tight enough to keep the extra material from her clothes from tripping her up.

"I am going to test your strength and endurance levels," Hux alerted her. "I know that you had some training in combat."

"A little," Sena confirmed, but knew her knowledge certainly quailed in comparison to Mandalorian standard.

Hux began prattling off exercises. He started with pushups, which weren't too hard. Sena was tiny and her limbs short. She ran around through the woods often and handled her own body weight. Capable of pushups and a few weak pull ups, she hung upside down from the bar like a monkey, braid swaying behind her as her buir remarked quietly to himself. Apparently, she was not too bad off, her excursions outside of the castle leaning well with her heritage as an Anaxian. Small, compact, ready to spring like a viper; she was putty to be molded. Her hands had callouses from where she'd climbed trees, tearing the soft palms and pads. Her feet were rough from trolloping barefoot, which would ease the pain of wearing boots and the callouses that would form on top of her soles.

And the girl could run. Around the drill shed floor, without reprieve, puffing out of her vocoder and using the boxes as obstacles. The original doubt that Hux had about taking a princess in was vanishing. Even if she might feel a little out of place amongst the Mandalorians due to her upbringing, Ardryll had not lied about her being well suited for training. The right disposition could be developed and she still had many years ahead of her before she would become a hunter. Most of all, the girl was eager to prove herself, hanging onto every word that came out of Hux's vocoder, the analyzer picking up the earnesty and excitement in her voice.

They had five more days on the ship before they were to touch down on Vorpa'ya and rejoin the Tribe. Even if the child was tired, she got up early and helped out as much as she could. It was plain she didn't know how to do many mundane tasks, given that servants had done this for her during the course of her short life. The Vizslas were patient with her, having to teach her how to turn a burner on, how to properly fold her clothes, how to wash them, how to tidy up after herself, how to be more considerate of those she was sharing space with. Hux was thankful they had the ship to do this on, glaringly aware that the girl would be tossed right into training with peers of a similar age and set before the Council before the Tribe welcomed her.

Hux's nerves faded, glancing fondly over in the direction of the plum helmet as the child bent over with his son, trying to stitch together where they had cut up her shirt in an attempt to take it in so it wasn't so baggy. Her fingers quaked and she gasped again, pricking her thumb for the umpteenth time. Despite fussing at his son before, Paz took to the girl like a womp rat to filth and was thrilled to have someone to take under his wing. It was difficult not to and Hux grudgingly admitted that to himself often at the kid's heart. She didn't give up. Settling back in his spot by the table, he wondered what Sova would have thought of the girl.

She would have loved her, he reasoned silently. Anaxes was gone. Having turned the news on in the cockpit long enough to hear about the sweeping of the Empire through the galaxy, his insides had gone cold when he saw the information regarding Anaxes. After resisting the Empire, there was a reactor failure in one of the shipyards that detonated a stockpile of hypermatter. Whether this was accidental or the locals had decided that they wouldn't allow for Anaxes to be used as a pivotal anchor point, Hux could only speculate. All that remained of the planet was an asteroid belt, wiping away the beautiful forests that Genmaris had been tucked along. As far as anyone was concerned, the Anaxian princess had been on the planet during the cataclysm.

Her anonymity was more important now. Her long ears and Goddess Tears would be easily recognizable.

Damn Jetii, you knew. You knew all along what was coming and how she'd have to be hidden , Hux cursed. Originally, he had been vexed by the arrangement, held by his debt to the Jedi. Take a princess and make her Mandalorian? He'd scoffed at the idea, but knew in his heart he couldn't abandon a child to an abysmal fate. There had been many others who had likely died on Anaxes, but Hux couldn't have saved them all. At least one would live to have a family and he could have a hand in raising her. Paz had already detailed that the little bird had attacked a trooper like a rabid massiff, flying out from the shadows and puncturing the small exposed bit of his throat. While still clumsy, the girl had managed to buy Paz time and kill the soldier. Potential . The girl had a lot of potential.

That potential was shadowed by her naiveness, but she'd grow wiser with age.

"I look lumpy," Sena had her shirt on, the poor stitching bunching up around her midsection and zigzagging where she'd not kept the line straight.

"Could use some work," Paz admitted honestly, pinching at the fabric to attempt to tug the bundling seams down. "Don't worry, there will be clothes that fit you amongst the Tribe. You'll also get some leather beskar'gam , which we'll put the jai'galaar eyes on."

Jai'galaar eyes or shriek-hawk eyes were the original clan sigil of the Vizslas. It had been used for the Death Watch in the more recent years, disparaged and spat upon by many other Mandalorians for the Sith that Hux's brother Pre had unleashed on their home world. Originally, Hux had helped try to retake Mandalore, before realizing how wrong he had been about forcing the Resol'nare on people who wanted to live peacefully. His own commitment did not circumvent how sacred he held the lives of Mandalorians, even if they were considered dar'manda . Pre had not agreed, saying that the dar'manda would submit or die.

After being spared by the Jetii , Arydryll, he removed the blue and white paint of the Death Watch and returned home to his son, uprooting their life and moving amongst the Tribe where they were accepted with open arms under the condition that they did not remove their helmets. This dedication to the Resol'nare attracted him; the ideal lifestyle he had hoped for all of Mandalore. Yet, he knew their little covert was one of few and he cherished what they had found. Here, he could live as he wished, but without forcing it on those who did not possess the same dedication to the Resol'nare. Hux did not want glory or to partake in the fight against the Empire, he desperately wanted peace. Here, Paz would be able to learn and supply for his people. There were always threats, as being Mandalorian came with its own clauses, but the covert had escape plans if the need for relocation arose.

" Sen'ika , go work on your combat drills on the practice shed floor," Hux thrummed eventually as the girl continued to fiddle with her awkwardly sewn clothes.

"Yes, buir ," she answered obediently, trotting off without needing to be asked again.

Paz tilted his helmet, staring over at his father. Questioning.

Once the child was safely out of earshot, he let out a low sigh. "We will be landing soon and you know what'll happen. The Council will want to meet her and then introduce her to the Tribe," the man started, earning a nod of comprehension. "We will not be telling them where she is from."

"We are going to lie to the Tribe?" Paz asked, voice hitching in disdain.

"No, we are going to omit information. The less people that know who she was and where she is from means the Tribe shall be safer. Anaxes is nothing but rubble and asteroids. No one shall see her face aside from us until she marries and by that point, no one will be looking for her. Until then, it is for the Tribe's best interest that we are as nondescript as possible in regards to her heritage."

"Understood... Have you discussed this with, vod'ika ?"

"Yes, she fully comprehends the importance of being ambiguous with the Tribe. As far as they know, she's from Naboo."

"A little Naboo child who can jump and do acrobats better than the rest of them?" Paz pointed out, harping upon the natural gifts lended to her from being Anaxian.

"It explains her accent and education. They will not start her training out too difficult, as they'll want to test her to get a better idea of what age group to place her with. She still has a lot to learn in order to be as well prepared as others her age."

"Hm," Paz hummed in disagreement. "Maybe in Mando'a and hand to hand combat, but she knows how to hold her own. The others will come quickly enough."

"Keep a close eye on her. There will be an adjustment period, even if she is doing well with just the both of us," Hux warned. In the privacy of the Kote , she felt comfortable with her new clan. Amongst the Tribe, she'd be faced with unfamiliar helms, various trials, and an entirely new setting. He worried how she would react, that the comforting embrace of the ship being ripped away from her might cause her to falter. It was all she had come to know after leaving her home world and acknowledging her past life was dead. Even the most resilient children needed time to recover and whilst she was putting on a brave face, it would only take one misstep for her emotions to finally catch up with the swift pace she had set. Hux was expecting a breakdown of enormous proportions in the coming days.

"Of course, she's my vod'ika . I'll not let anything happen to her," Paz swore, the oath so deep and intended that Hux smiled. This was the Way.

Vorpa'ya was coated in lolling hills rustling with tall green grass. Not a tree in sight, the plains spreading onward, and the sun pelting down across the landscape to catch the glimmering shift of the wind through the grass. So open and exposed, so strange and unfamiliar as large brown herbivores meandered the grass. They had four pronged horns that cradled their faces, mooing quietly as they gnawed on the vegetation and trotted along. Despite the sun's glare, the temperature was mild and the wind chased away any discomfort the sun's smile might provide.

Dome shaped homes littered the largest hill, cresting upon it like little green dimples. The steel had been thatched with grass, which grew tall and swooned in the wind. From above, the houses would be impossible to discern from the rest of the rolling land of Vorpa'ya. Between the homes, the people milled around - the Tribe. Beskar helmets painted in various hues, visors shifting between T and Y-shaped, and daily life gliding forward, seemingly untouched by the war that ravaged the galaxy. The people were not ignorant to it, as each Mandalorian donned at least three weapons a piece, the hunters even more, but they were careful, meticulous, and on guard. Any day, their little village could be disrupted and they were prepared to fight and escort the children far away to relocate the covert.

Following awkwardly between Paz and Hux, Sena's head swiveled around. Visors tilted toward her, noticing the new bucket amongst their Tribe, and greeted her aliit in kind with, " Su cuy'gar " and " Su'cuy " from a few very small children who did not wear helmets. Even if this was not the comforting forest, Sena's heart burned in her chest, warmed by the atmosphere, and she smiled stupidly beneath her helmet as she offered a few little waves to children running underfoot. Some attacked Paz, forcing the trio to stop as a child collided with her shins.

"Hello," Sena chimed, looking down into the bright blue eyes of a twi'lek boy.

"You're new! Who're you? I like your bucket. It's a pretty color," the boy was no more than five and tugging at her trousers.

"My name is Senaar," she bent down toward the grabby hands and picked him up, a little surprised by how much he weighed. She'd already committed, so she huffed him up onto her hip and let him tug lightly on her long, black braid. "What's your name?"

"Zim!" he squealed, palming her helmet and pushing his brow against hers. Sena knew that this was a keldable kiss and was exchanged between family and lovers, but didn't know what to do when a child was doing that to her. The big blue eyes opened, pinning her reproachfully, and he butted her more forcefully - demanding reciprocation.

"Bonk," Sena muttered, offering him a small headbutt.

Zim giggled delightedly.

"Run along now, ade. Lalli is undoubtedly looking for you little womp rats," Hux scolded, but there was no spice or menace in his voice.

" Sen'ori , come play with us later?" Zim asked quickly, knowing the moments he had with her were numbered to the second.

"Uhm," she was bending down to put Zim back on his feet. "If it's allowed..."

Paz gave her a reassuring pat on the back. "I can show you the town and nursery later," he told her, Zim galloping off with the other younglings before they were allowed to continue their passage amongst the covert. "Do you have a lot of experience with children?"

Her cheeks burned and she shook her head. "Not really. There weren't that many kids around... there. And if there were I wasn't really allowed near them. Not because I'd get in trouble, but mostly just social standards. No little cousins or anything like that."

The nicest thing about this village was that there were so many people to talk to, to not treat her like a princess, and estrange her due to her status. People always dreamed about being a princess, but most of her friends had been written in the pages of books. Everyone in Genmaris had been wary about offending her, even though Sena tried not to come off as rude or cold. Just the brush with the children made her ecstatic, because she'd never experienced anything like it. Little Zim had forced himself into her arms and stolen two keldable kisses and he barely knew her. What would everyone else be like?

"You'll get the hang of it. Zim was rather taken with you," Paz assured her.

"I hope so. If we have time, I think I would like to go to the nursery," Sena insisted, licking her dry lips beneath her helmet as they approached the largest domed structure, which was located at the epicenter of the camp. Two grand doors were propped open, leading into a cavernous room that pelted warmth. Situated in the center was a circular hearth where pale white blue flames lanced up the rim, stabbing up like daggers toward a range hanging from the ceiling that filtered any smoke and helped contain the immense heat that wafted from the fire. Seats were arranged against the wall, curving into the structure in the form of benches, where dozens of adults could sit around the forge.

Dozens were not there now, only a few. Immediately, her eyes sought out the most imposing of the crowd, a broad Mandalorian in soot black painted armor. He had a hammer in his hand, pausing to watch them carefully, his visor framed by white so that it was distinguishable from the darkness of the rest of the armor. On the other side of the forge was a female with a golden helmet, who appeared to be helping him, the crown fringed with short horns.

"I have not seen that helmet in a long time," the black-painted Mandalorian declared in a deep, resonating voice that echoed throughout the hall like ocean waves crashing against a rocky coastline. "A Foundling, Vizsla?"

" Elek , Smith," her buir stepped forward, brushing his hand along her shoulder and bringing her forth with him. "Senaar."

Uncertain of what to do, since she was no longer a princess, she simply stood there stiffly. Her helmet wasn't reading the Smith's voice very well, coming up as unknown.

"She is Mandalorian?" the Smith inquired, cocking his head slightly.

Sena was getting better at reading body language. Despite the fact she had seen Paz and Hux's faces, they tended to still move around as if they were wearing their helmets. Body language spoke volumes and the questioning turn of a helmet was already ingrained in her brain. She still had to learn the other nuances.

" Cin vhetin ," Hux offered simply. "I have renamed her."

"Welcome to the Tribe, Senaar of Clan Vizsla," the Smith greeted, visor skimming over her frame. "It appears you are in dire need of proper attire. Armorer, could you please assist in getting our new vod outfitted?"

The golden helmeted female stepped forward, bending down slightly to lift Sena's arms and take a few measurements. Her fingers picked at the atrocious stitching that Sena had managed and she murmured quietly to herself. "I should have things that fit you, vod . Come along."

Despite the encouragement from the young woman, she threw her head toward her buir , who gave her a nod. Allowed to follow the Armorer, they entered a back room in the hall. Considerably smaller, but chocked full of supplies to include various ingots of steel, most of durasteel, some of beskar, cloaks, boots, trousers, shirts. This was a supply closet, most of the attire dark and earth toned. A warrior's armor was where their personality was displayed in the colors in which they chose to paint it. She noticed that the Armorer's bucket was not painted, but shimmered gold. Sena wondered what color was beneath hers, but hadn't thought to touch the plum paint.

Pulling a few tops out, the Armorer decided which size would work best and began to create a pile for Sena. Boots, socks, underwear, and gloves were added to the ensemble. Finally, she pulled a few leather vests out, tightening it around Sena's frame to make certain it fit.

"This will be your armor until you can hunt and earn your own," the Armorer explained, adding leather vambraces and leg pads. "Get changed up and I will show you how to adorn them."

Sena was worried that the Armorer would wait nearby, but the female was discreet and stepped out of the supply closet to let Sena change in privacy. Discarding her frumpy, borrowed attire, she swapped it for clothing that fit much better. The pants were a little long still, but at least they didn't require a belt to keep up. The fabric was dark brown like dirt, the neckline curving up to hide her throat entirely. With gloves, knee high boots, a belt, with pouches - she stood there awkwardly trying to figure out what to do with the cuirass.

"Armorer?" she called tentatively, the gold helmet popping back in the doorway at the sound of her name.

"See these here?" the Armorer touched her gloves to the loops on the suit she was now wearing. "The armor attached to these points. Let's begin with the cuisse and greaves," sitting her down on the bench, she began strapping up the leather pads over her thighs and against her shins. "The cuirass or heartplate straps in on its own. Since it is not steel, it'll be a little tighter than beskar. Next, we have your vambraces, which will act as a point of defense. This is the first item you should craft of beskar," she tied the laced, the leather polished, but missing any of the tiny buttons that Hux had on his. "And your pauldrons will be where your clan sigil is displayed. For Vizslas, that is the shriek-hawk eyes."

" Ori'vod said he would help me paint it. Am I allowed to paint the leather? I don't want to get in trouble-" Sena's fretfulness caused her to begin babbling much too quickly, earning a light chuckle from the Armorer.

"The armor is yours now. You are allowed to paint it, though leather does not hold the paint as well as steel. During your training is it very likely to chip and peel," the Armorer informed her kindly. "But you should add the shriek-hawk eyes."

Sena wagged her head in agreement, thanking the Armorer before picking up her bundle of clothes and her extra set of boots. Hugging the supplies to her chest, she trundled out of the supply room to see a few other Mandalorians poking around. People had wandered into the hall. Immediately, they looked toward her, causing her to freeze where she stood and drop a boot. The sole colliding with the ground echoed throughout the cavernous hall and interrupted all conversation. Sena wanted to faint, shaking like a leaf.

Bending down, she battled with the edge of the boot before managing to snag it and toss it back on top of her pile. All but running over to Paz, she tucked toward his side and glanced around anxiously. Sena wasn't shy, but she'd also never seen Mandalorians before the Vizslas and now she was in an entire village of them. On top of that, she wanted to impress them and not make them regret taking her in. The sheer weight of wanting to be as good as possible made her quiver anxiously a bit. Being a princess wouldn't win her any brownie points and as far as they knew, she was from Naboo.

"Much better," Paz said, looking down at her new clothes and armor. "A full Mandalorian now, vod'ika -" he elbowed her lightly, nearly sending all her belongings flying from her hands. "The Elders want to meet you. Let me hold these for you and then we'll get the chance to drop them off at home."

Elders? They sounded mighty important. Sena swallowed the impossibly large lump in her throat and gave Paz a mute nod, passing over her supplies. She gave herself a minor pep talk, rationalizing that this couldn't be anymore intimidating than the vipers in the court. Even if she was unable to see their faces, at least they'd all been rather cordial with her until this point. Direct, straightforward, no beating around the bush. It was so unlike the climate she was accustomed to and while she liked it, she felt woefully ill prepared. Being guarded was so much easier, as was not taking most people at their word.

Arranged in the seats nearest to the forge was a council of seven - to include the Smith who sat amongst them. Most of the members had on armor, though there were two Elders, so old and fragile looking, that they did not don any armor. One was a woman who looked like a shriveled up prune, her skin hanging around her face so loose that it was difficult to tell if there were scars amongst her riddled countenance. Dark brown eyes perceived her, lancing right into her own, despite the visor that obscured Sena's.

The patriarch had a kinder expression, his face not resembling a crinkled up tissue. His skin was dark, sagging pale brows over wise irises. Braids of snow rain down his scalp and around his shoulders, a pink scar dragged along his left cheek like a bolt of lightning on a blackened field.

Four others; a female in cyan armor, a male in orange, a male in crimson, and a male in blue and white. Each one had various markings, designs, and spots differentiating their beskar. From the years of wearing the beskar, there were gouges, scratches, and marks that they wore proudly. Vambraces varied, as did weapons, and despite the fact that people said that all Mandos were the same, modulated bucketheads, Sena saw a huge difference between each of them. Not just because of their varying colors, but the manner in which they had painted designs, or highlighted the scratches with paint to make the scars pop, or the variance in design of the cuirasses as the style had improved over the years.

"Senaar of Clan Vizsla," the patriarch had a husky voice, so deep that it sounded as if it had been dredged out of the depths of Trask's oceans. "The Tribe welcomes you as our newest addition. My name is Rhenx and I am the Alor of the Tribe."

Alor sounded important, but in her nervousness, she couldn't recall if her buir had told her what it meant. "The pleasure is mine, Alor ," she retorted, still a bit too quickly, but was thankful her voice didn't fail her. The least her courtesy training could do for her was not make her sound like an idiot in front of the most important people in the Tribe. They were judging her at that moment, she was certain of it.

Rhenx gave an encouraging smile with pooled heat in her tummy and eased her shoulders. "Polite. Perhaps you could teach your aliit some manners,” he remarked, drawing a few laughs from the Elders flanking him. “Tell me, vod , what is your ambition?”

This was a question she had not been prepped for, the helmet heavy on her head as she tilted slightly to the side and considered him for a moment. Better to think than to spew nonsense. “To have a home and family. To belong ,” the answer was simple and yet it was all she could hope for now that her papa was gone. She’d not have many friends before and she hoped that she could change that here.

“Not of great prowess? To be the best hunter?” Rhenx mused, his questions making her heart thump in her chest as if she were a rabbit being eyed by a wolf.

Had she chosen the wrong words? Shuddering a breath slightly, she knew she couldn’t rescind them without looking stupid. “That too, but those come after,” she retorted, cheeks heated beneath her helmet, thankful for the mask to hide her abysmal expression.

Rhenx bellowed a laugh, making her jump. “Where did you find this one, Vizsla?”

“Naboo.”

Devoting his attention back to her, Rhenx offered another obliging look. “You have had a long journey, vod. We look forward to seeing you excel here. The Tribe is now your family, we take care of one another, protect one another. You will learn our ways and one day provide as your buir provides for you.”

Out of habit and because it felt natural, Sena bowed her head respectfully and took her leave. She couldn’t get beside Paz quickly enough, feet hastened and heart beating erratically until they had left the pressure of the hall. While the meeting with the Elders had gone much more easily than she had been expecting, she had a feeling that they’d be watching for the days to come. Until this point in her life, there had been little expectations of Sena other than to sometimes be at the right place at the right time. Taking advantage as a princess, she’d been able to shirk many duties and get away with mistakes that normal people would have been reprimanded for. There was a tiny bit of regiment in her from the little combat training she did have, but drawing upon her week on the Kote she knew that laziness and indignance would not be tolerated. Even if she was only 13, Sena was not stupid. Her frivolous years until this point were just that; until this point.

Tingling like bad food in the pit of her tummy, she considered what might happen. Part of her was fretful that she wouldn’t fit in and that she’d be detrimentally behind the others. Not in academics, because she’d studied with tutors, but in combat. They literally breathed blaster smoke like oxygen.

“You’re quiet, vod’ika ,” Paz observed as they continued to bask in the glow of the sun, heading to the edge of the town. She saw a few of the cattle grazing in the distance, otherwise just an empty landscape that seemed as if it could fall into the sky. Despite having found it pretty before, Sena was suddenly anxious at how open and scarce it was. Nowhere to hide. No shadows. Just open. “Are you alright?”

“Nervous,” Sena admitted quietly, tearing her eyes away from the moors as they paused in front of a house.

“You did well. If Rhenx likes you then there’s little to worry about,” he assured her, punching the code into the door: 568768. Hissing open, he allowed her in first.

“But I didn’t do or say much,” she pointed out, stepping down into the main dwelling area or karyai . The large chamber was not only the kitchen, but the den, dining area, and communal resting area. She noticed to the flanks of the karyai that there were doors to other rooms, assuming that these were bedrooms and a fresher.

“You weren’t a blubbering mess and you were concise and honest,” Paz countered, shutting the door and ripping his helmet off. Running fingers through his helmet curls, he cocked a smile at her that took the edge off her anxiety. “The rest you’ll have to prove, but you showed tenacity today. Seems your princess training helped a bit.”

“I felt like a blubbering mess.” She still did, clinging desperately to her clothes as if they were her last semblance of sanity. Everything was so glaringly real now. On the ship, she’d been toiling through hyperspace and with the idea of the Tribe. In theory, it all sounded magnificent. In reality, she was terrified of letting the aliit down or the rest of the Tribe. There had been moments in her life where she worried about letting papa down, but she’d never cared much for what others in the court thought of her. They had never been this close of a community. Sena expected if she made one slip up the entire village would know and talk about her behind her back. Call her a dope or an idiot.

“See, this is why I’m glad I only have one brain cell. You’re thinking too much, Sen’ika .”

She jolted, turning her head to look at her vod and let out a pitiful whine. “I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“Were you ever this worried when you were a princess?”

She shook her head.

“Being a princess seems a lot more difficult. Just be yourself… minus the royalty thing, but you catch my drift,” Paz gave her a small pep talk, bending down to affectionately butt heads with her helmet. “Come around here. The guest room is yours now. There’s not much in it, but you can make it your own-” he pressed a hand into her back and began guiding her across the karyai and toward the first door on the left. “We can set up your own code too. Buir likes to snoop.”

They deliberated quietly on a code for the door before Paz set it. It didn’t strike Sena that he also knew her code, but she didn’t mind either way. What did she really need to lock her door for when she was amongst a village of Mandalorians? Just as he’d claimed, the room was nondescript. Decorated simply with a full bed, a dresser, a single night stand with an alarm clock, and a closet. There was a window which gazed out on the fields. The room itself was the size of a powder room in Genmaris Castle and lacked all the refinement and grace of her old chambers. No wood, no warmth from the shimmersilk drapes, nor the stash of holobooks or paperbacks. Putting her belongings on the quilted comforter, she reached up and pulled her helmet off, thankful to finally be able to smell and feel the atmosphere on her face.

“The windows are shaded, so no one can see in,” Paz gestured to the glass. “Class begins at 0500 every morning except weekends. For you, that’ll be at the Junction House. Physical training starts the day, then academia, followed by a changing schedule of marksmanship, weapons courses, and other specialized courses like reconnaissance, basic medical, starship lessons… There’s a lot to list, but it’ll be handed to you piece by piece. Tomorrow you’ll get a holocard with the schedule as it changes week to week. Days end at 1500, with the exception of specialty lessons you might have once or twice a month. After end of day, you’re allowed to do what you want. Some people continue training, some people slack off, others help around the village… Ah, and there’s a Foundling shift roster. Once a week you’ll be tasked with watching the ade . But you’re always allowed to go more if you want.”

Sena listened, nodding as she thought of the other children she’d known who had gone to boarding school. The regiment and timelines seemed similar to that, though the classes being offered here sounded way more exciting. “What do you do after classes?”

“I don’t have as many classes anymore, since I’m older and just completed my First Trial. When you’re 16 you’ll also attempt your Trial if you’re ready,” Paz revealed.

“ 16 ,” Sena gasped in horror. “That’s only 3 cycles away!”

“The Tribe will not make you do your Trial if you’re not ready,” Paz placated, but it had the opposite effect.

“Then I’ll look like an idiot ,” Sena balked.

“You better train hard then. No more running off in the woods, shirking your duties,” he smarted, making her frown.

“There’s not even any forests to explore,” she pointed out disdainfully.

“Good thing. Less distractions,” he grinned, turning back toward the door. “Put your things away and then we’ll go check out the village. Maybe you’ll even get to meet some of your vod before tomorrow.”

Giving her the first real private moment since leaving Anaxes, she sat on the edge of the bed and palmed her eyes. This was life now. A mundane room, no books, no friends, and no clue on how to do anything. That had been obvious on the ship when she’d not realized that there wasn’t a magical clothing fairy who picks up after her. Or that she actually had to make food when she was hungry and not just ask for it. Or that people didn’t like when you were a little messy. Drawing in a shaky breath, she stood up and began putting her clothes away. A new beginning. She really had to give it a try and put her heart into it, because otherwise she had nothing else. Here, she would learn life skills; how to defend herself, to supply for others, to feel a part of a community, and to build a life. Until this point in her life, Sena had never really thought much of the future aside from what she didn’t want to do, like marry Rathas. Each stride was taken day by day and her ambitions were nothing more than mischievous fun to be had around the castle.

Was she upset by the guidance? No, she wasn’t, but it still made her hands shake. There was no papa to defend her choices, to wash away any bad she might’ve done. Hux had already told her that she had to own up to what she did, even if she made a mistake. Honesty was paramount.

After putting her belongings away, she picked her helmet back up and went out into the karyai . Paz held up a piece of… dessert? She didn’t know what it was other than it was layered densely, flat, and appeared to have nuts and fruit in it. “ Uj’alayi ,” he told her, offering her a piece as he scarfed his own down.

Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she’d not eaten much since getting off the ship and they’d been eating rations. Real food was such a comforting sight that Sena nearly cried. Biting her tongue to keep herself from being dumbly emotional over cake, she picked up the sticky pastry and enjoyed the sweetness, the syrup, and the kick of spices that warmed her palate and hummed in the back of her throat. The uj’alayi was amazing. However, her gloves were now coated in stickiness. Big eyes turned toward Paz, he chortled as he washed down his cake with water.

“Wash your hands,” he reminded her, as if it were so obvious - which it was - but she hadn’t thought of it just standing there like a dope.

Coming around the counter, she scrubbed her gloves free of the syrup and picked her helmet up from where she’d set it down. “Do we get to eat that everyday?”

“Our teeth would rot right out of our heads,” Paz chortled. “ Uj’alayi is a treat. Bhone delivered this to us - the Elder in the cyan armor.”

“Oh, that was very nice,” Sena remarked, slightly disappointed that the cake was not a part of everyday cuisine. If she were still a princess, she could demand that it was. Here, she’d just look like a petulant brat. “How would I say thank you? Do I send a gift back or-”

“You could just thank her next time you see her. You’d really impress her if you said it in Mando’a. ‘ Vor’e’ would work.”

“ Vor’e ,” she repeated quietly, hoping that Paz hadn’t just told her how to say something rude to the Elder, but knew she had to trust in his guidance. He was one of few people she was somewhat familiar with around these parts and one of even fewer whose face she could see. Taking in a deep breath, filling up her diaphragm as much as she could muster, she turned her eyes to Paz. “Alright! Let’s go do things. Now it’s your turn to show me around.”

“The village isn’t half as large as Genmaris and you knew that place better than the back of your hand. Won’t take too long and then we can stop by the Nursery,” Paz picked up his bucket and slid it back on.

Donning hers, they went back out into the village where Paz escorted her past the huts and toward the big hall that they’d entered first. That was the Foundry - the important place where all the Tribe gathered and also where armor was forged. Radiating out in a spiral where the other important buildings, which were larger than the residential homes. These included the Junction House, the School, and the Nursery - where all the children to teenagers would spend their time during typical academic hours. The Den was where the hunters met up, dropped off what they’d earned, and had a few drinks time willing. The Cache was another supply location, but it was mostly groceries and miscellaneous housing items. There was also a small mechanical hut with spare parts for the few ships the Tribe had and Med-Deck where the doctor lived. Otherwise, training that did not occur in any of the aforementioned locations were done out in the fields surrounding the village.

Circling back around to the Nursery, they spent a little time with the children before dinner, the tykes throwing themselves at her when they found out that Ori’vod Paz now had a sister of his own, leading them to assume that she’d be just as fun and amazing as him. The expectations made her a little dizzy, unable to heft the kids quite like Paz could, but she did manage to tumble on the floor with a few of them. Zim had all but claimed her as his own, demanding headbutts every spare second she had to breathe. So, for those brief couple of hours, she forgot about how nervous she was about her first day of school and meeting the other kids her age. According to Paz, her class was aged from 10-14.

When they returned home, Hux already had food ready on the table, looking at them expectantly as gloves were removed and hands were washed. Plated before her was an orange-red curry, the spices making the hairs in her nose curl. The meat and sauce was piled on top of a grain. Since she was hungry, she began spooning it into her mouth, immediately regretting what she had done as her tongue went taut and began to burn as if both suns of Tatooine were sitting upon it. Eyes watering, it took every ounce of willpower not to spit it back out, the other two Vizslas watching on with absolute mirth and delight as she reached for her drink. That didn’t do any better, because even that was spiced.

Panic began to set in as she panted, blinked over and over again as her chest ached.

“Giving you a heturam? ” Paz grinned to her contempt.

“If you’re hungry, you’ll eat it,” Hux barely looked up from his own food.

She managed to turn over the rice and push some in her mouth which helped with the burn. Neither of her aliit were bothered by how spicy the food was and she wondered if her buir had purposely made hers hotter just to get a kick. By this point, her entire tongue was scorched of any taste buds, allowing her to force down a few more bites as her throat rebelled. How had they gone from uj’cake to this?

Ending the day with a shower, she wandered over to her window, her headband off and her ears finally free. Gazing out, she noticed how the moonlight dappled the grass and turned it blue like back in Genmaris. She thought that it was rather pretty how the wind would tangle its fingers through the tall fronds, scattering them in rippling ethereal waves as the moonlight highlighted them. There were no birds, no songs to look forward to in the morning, but then again… Sena was the bird now. Clinging to the edge of the window, she lingered, wishing to open it but afraid that someone might pass by and see her face.

Papa, I miss you.

---

Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

It was the most Goddess awful sound she’d ever heard in her life. Rolling over, she eyed the alarm clock which read 0430, blinking its red lights at her, indicating that it was time to get up. Groaning, she slapped it a few times, trying to get the atrocious noise, that sounded akin to a loth-cat being strangled, to stop. Finally, she found the button and clicked it off, rubbing her eyes as they quickly adjusted to the dim light of the room. Dawn was just on the horizon, but it was not time for sunrise for another couple of hours. Sena hadn’t slept well, her anxiety hitching with the hours and when she finally had shut her eyes, she had only gotten a couple hours.

Changing from her pajamas - a simple pair of leggings and a t-shirt - she traded them for her jumpsuit and began fumbling at the armor. Her fingers weren’t dexterous at it yet and she kept eying the clock, realizing she was taking much longer than she should have. Tying her boots too tight, she grabbed her helmet and ran out of the room, forgetting her headband and having to turn back around to get it. Paz was already about to leave and she was frantic, sprinting to the counter to grab a piece of toast before forcing it down her gullet. Some food was better than none.

Oh, Goddess. Only 5 minutes.

She shoved her helmet on her head and ran out of the house. Her brother was already gone. Whipping her head around she started for the Junction House, her stomach balling up, bile rising in the back of her throat as she slipped into the room just as the bell chimed. Sena was momentarily relieved until she realized she was standing by the door while the rest of the class was neatly arranged in a formation on the padded mats. A pair of adults looked her way, her fingers clasping together in front of her to prevent her from shaking.

“Vizsla?” the male adult, in juniper blue armor inquired, his visor accented with holly red.

“Y-yes, sir,” she stammered, stepping forward after counting 10 students sitting on the ground.

“ K’olar! We haven’t got all morning,” the male informed her, gesturing sharply, his voice powerful and commanding.

Sena stumbled forward and waited expectantly.

“At attention,” he sighed, shaking his head at her.

“Att-” she’d seen guards and knights snap to attention when she and papa passed by them. Comprehending what he was asking, she jolted, heels together, spine erect, chin leveled, and shoulders back.

“And here I was thinking Hux would’ve prepared you for this. Not surprised another Vizsla is lacking brain cells.”

“Give the kid a break. It’s her first day,” the other teacher chimed, a female mando in polished sage green armor. Sena decided she liked this mando better.

“Learn fast or fall hard,” the male snipped.

“As long as you get back up,” Sena said in a very, tiny, tiny voice.

“What did you say?”

She stiffened, realizing she couldn’t just speak when she wanted. This was a very strange concept to her. Only speak when asked a question or given permission. Before, she’d been allowed to blabber to her heart’s content. Now she was afraid.

The female mando chuckled. “Relax, adiik. Thak, cut it out with the theatrics unless you want Hux to find you later and beat you into the wall,” she soothed, turning around and tilting her visor toward the rest of the students. “Class, this is our newest Foundling, Senaar of Clan Vizsla. I expect you all to accept your new vod with open arms and help her learn the ropes. Senaar, do you have anything to say?”

Turning around, she glanced out amongst the unreadable visors of her peers. The rest of them were wearing leather armor as well and for once, she wasn’t the smallest one. “I just want to… say hi,” the words came out sheepish and she floundered, having not prepared to be put on the spot like this. So many other children her age. So many chances to create friendships she’d never experienced before. So many chances to kriff it up. A few giggled at her, which did nothing to calm her erratically beating chest. Licking her lips, she clutched her fists and hoped that this would end soon.

“Xivi, I am tasking you with looking after Senaar today and helping explain anything she might not understand during the lessons,” the female teacher declared, giving a meaningful glance toward a girl with a bright yellow bucket.

Sena didn’t have to be a mind reader to see the slight dip in shoulders, the disappointment of having to babysit. They thought she was going to be dead weight for a while.

“Senaar go stand beside Xivi,” the mentor ushered her off.

Joining the other girl, her cheeks burned beneath her helmet as a few watched her step by. The moment she was beside her, Xivi tilted her head slightly. “Where are you from?”

“Naboo.”

The girl sighed .

Kriff. What was wrong with Naboo? Grinding her teeth, Sena waited apprehensively, solid as a statue and absolutely unmoving as the teachers, Thak & Nibak, started morning warm ups. After spreading the kids out, they began with stretches so that they wouldn’t hurt themselves. This was easy enough to follow along, as were the minor exercises that followed after. Lifting her head while doing push ups, Sena was startled to see that she was actually doing quite well. A larger girl, more than a head taller than her, was struggling to get the form down. Sena supposed that her own compact form and being light due to her race assisted in the ease of these body weight workouts. She was able to push out just as many as the boys were.

“Nice form, Vizsla. Go a little lower next time,” Thak paced between the students, giving her a nod of acknowledgement which made her let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

“ Elek ,” she huffed, making certain that she addressed the adult properly.

“Aya, go down to your knees and keep pushing if you’re struggling,” Thak moved onto the girl who was just in front of her. “Proper form is more important than doing full push ups.”

Most of the girls were on their knees by now, trying to shove the mats beneath them, as Sena finished off her last 10. Sitting up and tucking her legs beneath her rump, she glanced around.

“Was your weekend too long? Did you eat too much uj’alayi? ” Thak craned down, scrutinizing a boy with a midnight blue helmet. His voice was pensive and sharp, angry almost. “Just because you have days off doesn’t mean you’re allowed to slack! The future of the Tribe is here and you can’t even push out 40? Disappointing. On your feet!”

Sena jetted up, bouncing slightly on her heels as she wondered what was about to happen. By the depressed postures of the other students, she had a feeling that they were about to be punished.

“Seems you all need to run off your sweets from this weekend-” his proclamation was met by numerous groans. “ Uur! I’ll hear none of it. Last one to return after five laps of the covert will be stuck with cleaning duty tonight. Viinir! ”

Buckets swiveled and feet pounded like a stampede of bantha as her peers began rushing out of the entrance. Sena nearly tripped, sputtering after them as she followed the pack, comprehending that the laps were around the village’s perimeter. Filling her lungs with air, she trotted past and set her eyes to the front. Of course she wasn’t going to be last, but she wondered if she could manage to be first. What would happen if she was the best? Did the first place winner get a reward? The loser had to clean, so she supposed at the very least she’d get bragging rights.

Kicking her legs out beneath her, she sailed forward and caught up with a boy with an unpainted helmet, the silver beskar catching in the dull blue morning light. She didn’t speak to him, didn’t greet him, but focused on beating him. That way she could go home and tell Hux what a great job she had done. Running was easy, after all, she’d done it plenty of times in more hazardous landscapes, dodging roots and rocks, hills and nooks. The grass was nothing , nor the little mounds and rises they crested and sloped across.

Five laps ended with her fighting the silver boy for the lead. Her heart burned, soaring high like a bird, her eyes stretched wide as she panted and strained for victory. Thak and Nibak were waiting by the doors, the man having his arms crossed as he tapped his foot. “Hurry up!” he intoned, despite the fact that they were the first ones back. “Djarin. Vizsla. Good job, go get a drink of water and wait for the rest of your vod. ”

She grumbled slightly, disappointed that he’d called the boy’s name first. Heading back inside, she picked up her water bottle and flipped the straw up, shoving it into her mouth and quenching her burning throat with the lukewarm liquid. Her helmet turned toward Djarin, who was also sipping at his water. “Nice job. Next time I’ll beat you,” she said hoarsely, but in good spirits. Running was probably her favorite exercise to do aside from climbing.

“I wasn’t trying,” the boy retorted peevishly.

Sena’s smile wilted on her face. “Neither was I,” she snarked, trying to sound impressive, but her voice squeaked, absolutely betraying her. Cheeks and ears heating, she sat down and muttered to herself. What was his problem? No sense of honest rivalry? She wasn’t given the time to come up with another snide remark, but she was thinking about it - imagining how she could have clapped back at him, all the clever things she could have said in place of the stupid one she’d blurted out.

Other classmates were trailing back in, huffing and puffing, in much worse shape than the victors. Amongst the last to trot in was the girl, Aya - who had a bright hot pink helmet - and a boy called Vowr whose helmet was a splotchy grey, as if the paint had faded and he hadn’t bothered to touch it up. Routines phased into hand to hand combat, which she was quite nervous about.

Paired back up with Xivi, they observed the teachers explaining simple throws and strikes, telling them to draw their punches today and aim for center mass. Eventually, they let the young teens turn back toward each other.

“You’re fast,” Xivi commented as they began going through the palm strikes. Thrust, thrust, parry, turn.

“I like running,” Sena shrugged, catching the strikes on her vambrace as Xivi continued her routine.

“Yeah but no one is Djarin fast. Gave him a run for his credits today,” she snickered, moving into a defensive position so that Sena could start her own offensive turn.

“Really? He said he wasn’t trying,” she smiled a bit at Xivi’s words. Thrust, thrust, parry, turn.

“Course he did,” Xivi snorted, shaking her helmet. “How old are you?”

“13. And you?”

“14,” Xivi answered. “I was a little bit worried about you, but you seem to be in good fitness.”

“Thanks, that means a lot to hear that,” her cheeks flushed at the compliment.

“Little word of advice though. Careful about trying to best Djarin.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’s top of the class and has been for a while. Only Kedth has come close in some aspects and the two have fought over it. Had a few duels to settle the matter-” she cleared her throat, stepping back slightly as Sena’s strike slipped through her guard and hit her chest. “Anyways, unless you want a shebs kicking, I’d advise against it.”

“I don’t think I’m nearly that good, but thanks for the warning. If I can just beat him at running, I think I’ll be pleased,” she admitted, clenching her fist and opening it slightly. Despite being good at physical activities, she doubted she’d come close to any of the other kids in varying subjects. There were too many topics for her to be naturally gifted with them all and she wasn’t an airhead who believed her princess upbringing made her any better. In fact, it should’ve made it worse, but at least Xivi was rather nice now that she’d warmed up to the Anaxian.

Combatives ended and they were given a short recess to get more water, have a snack, and file into the classroom. The topics of the day were geometry, galactic history, and Mando’a. Sena found the academics to be simple enough, though the Mando’a she had to take a considerable amount of notes. Most people in the room could string entire phrases together, even speak it fluently, and she was putzing around in slight confusion. Xivi leaned over a few times to translate. Lunch time came and they were allowed to go back to their homes to eat with their helmets off.

“How’s class?” Paz asked her, their buir not home for lunch.

“Not bad, actually,” Sena revealed, chucking a dopey smile at her vod. “I honestly thought it was going to be worse.”

“It’s only the first day, but try not to lose that shereshoy . You might be chipper today, but you’ll get sore eventually,” Paz reminded her in good nature.

“Sore?” she scoffed. “I’m Anaxian, made entirely of sinew and muscle, wind playing through the trees, and verdant shadows. A little running and push ups isn’t going to break me.”

“ Nayc , you’re Mandalorian now,” Paz disagreed, tossing a look over at the clock on the stove. “A stupid, grinning pointy eared Mandalorian, but one nonetheless. Prove to your aliit that you’ve got a few brain cells. Oya! Don’t want to be late. Thak won’t be so nice to you if you pull that stunt again tomorrow.”

“Nice?” she squeaked in disbelief.

“You don’t want to see Thak when he’s angry.”

“He seems angry all the time!”

Paz chuckled, guiding her back out of the house as they put their buckets on. “He’s aggressive, not angry. See you after class, Sen’ika.” He gave her a slight head bump and they parted ways.

Classes after lunch consisted of marksmanship for the remainder of the day. The others were allowed to go through drills, but Nibak pulled her aside to test where she was. The sage green mando had her disassemble a few different weapons, which Sena was comfortable taking apart and putting back together. She fumbled a little bit with the coil in the buttstock of the rifle, her muscles straining as she shoved it back in, but otherwise thought she moved at a smooth pace. Not too fast, but also not dragging on.

“How well do you know how to shoot?” Nibak inquired after they went through the weapons.

“I know how to shoot a sidearm well enough, but I’m not that familiar with rifles and shotguns,” she answered honestly. There was no point in pretending she was good at it just to eat her words when placed on the range. “My buir showed me how to take them apart.”

“As he should have,” Nibak hummed, picking up the rifle. “We’ll start with this. Come along.”

Following the teacher away from the rest, who were doing dime and washer drills, they left the Junction House and headed out toward the range on the outside of the village and nestled down in a valley. Burms had been created out of soil and dirt, a line of target dummies set at varying distances. She noticed that some of them were droids, which could probably be turned on to move around and simulate live targets. Nibak set the rifle down on the block, muzzle down range, and handed Sena a cartridge.

“Start with prone, which will be down here,” she got down on her belly, propping herself up slightly with her elbows, pretending to have a rifle seated against the pocket of her shoulder.

Sena got down on the grass with her and cocked her right leg, which helped steady her balance and lifted her up. After getting a nod, she picked up the rifle, her arms quivering slightly at the weight.

She found herself struggling to hold the weapon upright, fumbling the cartridge in, before sliding the charging handle forward. Nibak noticed her struggling. "Tuck your elbows in more, you can slide down lower in order to plant more firmly." Following the instructions, Sena found a more comfortable position, her finger flat against the side of the weapon as she waited for more instructions. "Aim for the target at 100 meters and fire."

Switching the safety off with her thumb, Sena set the cheek of her helmet against the buttstock, surprised to find that the curve fit perfectly, locking into place. Her visor adjusted swiftly to the sight picture, listing the muzzle in the direction of the target a medium distance away. Drawing her breath, she squeezed the trigger at the bottom and the weapon kicked with the fire. She blinked a few times, her shoulder absolutely raw from where the high powered rifle sat. Teeth rattled, she licked her lips and glanced at Nibak.

"Good shot. Control the kick more so that you don't lose sight picture," Nibak eased, nodding for her to continue.

Sena fired a few more times before her shoulder began to shake.

"Are you alright?"

Grinding her teeth, she gave a mute nod, not wishing to seem weak, but kriff it hurt. Felt as if she'd been kicked by a bantha. Volleying off a few more shots, they swapped over to the shotgun and Sena felt herself absolutely dreading have to fire it. Leaning into her shot, her grip slipped and she dropped the gun. Nibak darted forward, shoving her back away from the hot weapon, and yanked her by her raw arm. Sena was unable to stop the howl from escaping her mouth.

" Verd'ika ! Dank farrik how much do you weigh?" Nabik hissed, snatching up the shotgun and switching the lever to safe.

Sena's hand palmed her aching muscles. "A normal weight," she muttered, realizing she was a normal weight for an Anaxian. Not a human.

"You can't be more than 30 kilos," Nibak continued to fret, realization dawning on her. "Your shoulder-"

"I'm fine!" Sena spat irritably, upset that her arm hurt and not wishing to be treated differently.

"Are you human?"

She sucked her teeth, having hoped that this wouldn't come up. Until now, everything else had been manageable, even the hand to hand combat. "No." Would Nibak pry?

"That is important information, verd'ika. Will you tell me what race you are?"

She shook her head. "Sephi offshoot," was all she could supply.

"Lighter bone density," Nibak sighed. "This will affect your training."

Her stomach dropped and she pulled her hand down. "I feel fine. I can keep going. I can-"

"Stop lying, verd'ika . Trying to push your body past its breaking point will only get you and your vod killed in the future," Nibak started, her voice hardening and becoming crisp. No longer was it nurturing or warm, Sena quailing and sitting back on her heels as she waited to be yelled at. Instead, Nibak just shook her head. "Every Mandalorian has different strengths. You will need to play to yours. You are quick, verd'ika . You will still need to qualify with a rifle and shotgun, but we will make exceptions to spread your testing out to prevent injury. Come along, we are finished for the day."

Even if Nibak had been reasonable in what she said, Sena's head sagged, trailing behind her teacher as she knew for a fact that others would notice her getting special treatment. She tried to blink back tears, but supposed that the helmet did her a favor in hiding them as they stung down her face. She held her lips to prevent her mouth from sniffling. Her first day and she'd already been sorted out and told she would be inferior in certain aspects.

The class was released for the day and Sena slunk back home, not feeling up to doing anything as her shoulder hurt. Peeling off her bucket and pauldrons, she tugged down her sleeve enough to see that a nasty bruise was spreading along the inside pocket of her shoulder beside her pecs. A frustrated huff parted her lips and she rounded, kicking the frame of her bed as hard as she could. The fit was followed with a lance of pain up her leg, radiating from where her foot connected with the steel. At least it distracted her from the pain on her shoulder.

Moping in her room, she didn't go out for dinner, hearing a knock on her door. How could she face her aliit? Word probably traveled fast and they'd know that she would never be able to wield a rifle or shotgun in an adept manner. That was a huge part of an arsenal. If she couldn't even heft a rifle, it meant she'd never be allowed to touch heavy machinery for fear of it breaking her.

The door puffed open, despite the code she had set on it, recalling duly that Paz knew it. She snatched her blanket up, pulling it up to her chin and keeping her back to the door. "Was the day that long?" he teased. "Sen'ika?"

"I'm just tired," she grumbled, her voice cracking from how parched it was from sniffling like the biggest baby in the galaxy.

"I heard you did pretty well today. Almost beat Din in your morning run-" Paz preened, sitting on the edge of her bed. "But you need to eat to keep up your strength. Even if you're not hungry, you should try to put down some of it. It's not as spicy tonight." He patted her shoulder, making her suck in a sharp breath, her body betraying her before she could purse her lips. "Wha- Are you hurt?"

Her eyes began burning again, her teeth clenched as tight as a vise grip as she tried not to cry. Why was she such a wimp? "I'm fine."

"Senaar, if you have an injury we should put some bacta on it. You still have to go to training tomorrow," Paz was definitely frowning now, but she didn't turn to look at him. "Let me look."

She grumbled petulantly, but her brother didn't move. Instead, he waited until she was done grousing, throwing glares, and then sat up yanking down her shirt to show him the darkening bruise.

"Dank farrik how did you get that?" he cursed, eying the nebula blossom against tanned skin.

"I was testing weapons with Nibak and one was a high caliber rifle. The kick bruised me and then I dropped the shotgun and she asked if I was human. Obviously, I couldn't lie or she'd think I was severely underweight. Now they're going to treat me different. I-I-I just told them I was a Sephi subrace, but now I can't do the same things as the others-" the words splattered out of her mouth ineloquently, absolute word vomit as she felt the bitter tears burn in the corners of her eyes. "I was doing so well today and then this happened."

"So?"

Her mouth dropped open and she glowered at him. "So? What do you mean? I'll never be as good as anyone else if I can only use pistols!"

"You're really worried about that?" Paz was staring at her honestly, his icy eyes snaring her gold. "What good are you broken? Your first day here and the teachers are already talking about your potential. No one is perfect at everything, this is a minor setback. Focus on your strengths. You're fast and can move silently, that's a skill most Mandalorians don't have - at least not naturally, they have to work for years to have that. In the meantime, stop beating yourself up over it. Your teachers are here to help you grow in the right direction and will tailor your training accordingly. Do you want to keep shooting these weapons until you fracture your shoulder?"

She shook her head.

"Then stop worrying," he reached up and ruffled her hair. "Want to know a secret?"

"What?" she muttered.

"I sucked at reconnaissance and stealth. So terribly that I thought they weren't going to let me attempt my Trial. You know that little stunt you pulled back in the castle?" he was alluding to when she'd stabbed the stormtrooper. "I could have never done that. You are as silent as a shadow and jumped several meters like a nexu. Dush'shebs ! You'll make an amazing kyramud one day."

"You think so?"

"I know so. But only if you eat your dinner and keep on top of your studies and practice," Paz reminded her. "Let's get some bacta lotion for that bruise."

"And food," she added, feeling a little better after Paz's pep talk.

Sena's schooling continued and she took what Paz had told her to heart. You couldn't be good at everything and dwelling on her deficiencies would just cause her to get into her own head too much. Didn't help that this Djarin kid seemed to be good at everything, but Sena tried to ignore this fact and focus on her own training. Xivi became a fast friend and her partner for most combat drills. The canary yellow mando swiftly fell in step with her after classes, where they would practice Mando'a, since it was Sena's roughest academic subject. In exchange, she helped Xivi with her running and tried to teach her more acrobatic maneuvers with obstacles. For Sena it was easy to leap, duck, dodge, and adjust on the fly - be that midair or on the ground. This agility was quickly noticed and Xivi yearned to have even a shred of Sena's ability.

It became common knowledge that she was Sephi, which wasn't entirely true, but she didn't discredit it. She couldn't fully participate in some live fire activities, Thak let her fire a few times before putting a pistol in her hand, telling her to sharpen those skills instead. Part of her desperately wanted to be able to saddle up with one of the cool ambien rifles, but her shoulder twinged in memory of how badly the initial kick hurt her. Sidearms didn't bother her and she had a decent shot, increasing her draw and hipfire with the progressing weeks.

Mornings were her favorite, hoping that Thak would make them run so she'd get a chance to try and best Djarin. The silver mando never spared her, or anyone, many words. He kept to himself and Xivi said he'd always been like that. Sena wondered why, since they were all vod and being reclusive did nothing but make the others dislike you. Did she dislike him? She didn't know him. Though the few words she did exchange with him were mostly terse and fuelled by their rivalry in fitness.

But everything wasn't sunshine and rainbows. Falling into step quickly, adjusting with her peers, and finding a niche to occupy, she swiftly saw the weakest links amongst their group. Had she not been Anaxian and a wild spirit who had trolloped through the woods, Sena expected she might've been more ill prepared than she was. The girl who had difficulty with push ups on her first day, Aya, was amongst the struggling. Her magenta bucket was easy to pick out and it was like a beacon for Thak to hone on and chastise. Sena actually felt bad for how much the girl was picked on, told to improve... but that pity quickly faded. She'd caught Nibak offering extra lessons after their final bell, only for Aya to decline and say she was working on her own. Still, there was no improvement and she continued to get reamed out by Thak.

Eventually, about two months since Sena's arrival, Thak began comparing Aya's failures to other students. Particularly her.

"Senaar has been here for two months and she's already outpaced you, Aya," he scolded as she continued to struggle with push ups. "A Sephi Nabooian has outpaced you."

She wondered if she should have been offended by the way he said Sephi, but supposed it didn't matter since that actually wasn't her race. Everyone knew she was featherlight by this point as Nibak had told them that no one was allowed to use full strikes during combatives for fear of someone breaking something. If the teacher's words were meant to be motivating, they weren't, and Sena's cheeks burned with embarrassment for both herself and Aya.

Following class, she found the magenta bucket and tapped the tall girl on the shoulder. "Aya..." she cleared her throat, trying to muster her princess voice so she was as polite and courteous as possible. The girl turned, tilting her helmet down impassively - the telltale taut and bitter line of her shoulders clear. "Xivi and I are going to do some obstacle course runs today if you want to join us. After we practice Mando'a. You're more than welcome to join us today and any other day."

Aya was utterly silent, so silent that Senu realized she'd barely heard the girl speak before. Finally, "Do you think I'm laandur ?" her voice came out hot, Sena's helmet immediately picking up on the fury in the girl's voice.

"What?" Sena squeaked, throwing up her hands in a submissive manner. "N-no, I just thought you might-"

"That I need to run more? That I'm fat and slow? That you, an aruetii , could show me the ropes?"

She had not expected this at all, her jaw dropping at Aya's harsh words. Aruetii ? Aya had called her an outsider. "I'm trying to be nice!" she screeched, her patience vanishing like smoke dissipated by a strong gale. "I never see you practicing after class and Xivi and I are always outside. I thought maybe you wanted other people to work out with."

"Like I'd choose you or Sunshine to help me. You can't even shoot most weapons. You're not exactly the shining example of mandokar . At least I can handle an entire arsenal, vaar'ika ," Aya snapped, jabbing a thick finger into Sena's chest, making her stumble back. "Let's see where all the running gets you when I snipe you across the hill."

"Kriff! Fine, forget I asked," Sena hissed dejectedly, turning away and leaving Aya to her fuming. Her own heart burned, chest heaving as she stomped back home. What the hell was her problem? Did she really think that Sena was being snide? That inviting her out was going to be nothing but a chance for Xivi and her to laugh behind their buckets? Then, on top of that, Aya had gone right for the kill and insulted her. This was the first time in her life that someone had rejected her like that and Sena was trembling with unbridled rage. Had she done the right thing? Could that conversation have gone better?

"Woah look out over here, we've got a wild mythosaur on a rampage," Paz hooted as she opened the door to their karyai and continued to trundle in.

"What do you know about that stupid pink bucket, Aya?"

"Aya?" he arched a brow, setting down his blaster that he had been cleaning. "I heard that she's having some issues with her fitness."

"I invited her to join Xivi and I after classes and she bit my kriffing head off!" She plopped down across the table, removing her own blaster, deciding she should clean it while she was there.

"Hm," Paz hummed, thinking about the subject for a little while before speaking again. "She's sensitive about it. Her buir didn't return from a hunt a few months before you arrived. It's been worse since then."

The blood rushed out of her face and she felt her ears sag slightly beneath her headband. Sighing deeply, she pinched the bridge of her nose. "I was trying to help her," she said quietly. Now Aya's reserved nature, the quiet answers to Thak, and Nibak's offer being turned down were making more sense. "I didn't know."

"How could you, vod'ika ? You did the right thing and tried to help her, but respect her decision to take the time she needs," Paz eased before shifting the subject. "So, I heard from the pipeline that your marks are quite high."

"Well aside from marksmanship since I can only really shoot this thing-" she bared the blaster which was already in three pieces. "Academics aren't that difficult and Xivi has been helping me with Mando'a."

"A humble princess? You surprise me again, vod'ika ."

Humble? Papa had told her that bragging about your accomplishments would just make people dislike you. Plus, Sena knew that school and marks didn't make up for real experiences. The real tests would be the Trials which were a few years off. She could only hope that she'd be prepared enough to make an attempt at 16. Given her comfort with the current regiment, aside from her disappointment in marksmanship, Sena was hopeful that she'd be able to make it there in time. "Not humble, just realistic," she groused, blushing at her brother's words. His praise was hard earned and he always knew the right things to say to brighten her mood even when it was abysmal.

"I wish I had that many brain cells," Paz snorted.

" Gar mirsh solus ," she countered, drawing a guffaw from him.

"Xivi teach you that one?"

"She taught me all the rude things first so that way if someone insults me, I know," she grinned, but sat back and considered what had happened. Even if Aya had lost her buir , she hadn't needed to take it out on her. Sena lost her papa and entire life as she knew it and wasn't ripping people's throats out for offering to help. Whatever. It was over and Sena had done the right thing in being the bigger person.

At least, that's what she thought.

Come morning, after their initial work out, they were paired up for combatives. Partners were switched around, so that people would be on their toes not facing their typical match up. Sena was loomed over by Aya, which was fine, all it was was grappling today. Most would just be mounting, a few tosses, and domination positions and the mats were padded. If Aya was still mad at her, she could vent her frustration and Sena wouldn't blame her. Squaring up with the girl, she knew this wasn't going to go in her favor. This wasn't free fighting where she could try and coil around Aya like a snake to try and win, it was a set of maneuvers and Aya would win because she was bigger and heavier. Heck, nearly everyone in there would be Sena except for 10 year old Terri.

Well, hopefully this goes by fast, she thought tartly, glancing over a Din and Oyiin who flanked them.

Aya lunged first, trading a few weak blows before they toppled to the ground. Sena fought for a dominant position, but was little more than a hissing loth-cat kitten as Aya picked her up by the scruff and flung her against the floor. Air whoosed out of her lungs, but Sena recovered before the girl could mount her. She rolled out of the way, rubbing her neck where she'd collided. Not a big deal. People often forgot how small she was and underestimated their strength. Aya hadn't fought with her before, so it'd be a little touch and go.

Grappling again, Sena swiped her foot under Aya, sending her thumping down and mounted. The girl twirled, asserting dominance and flipping their positions. Sena squirmed, writhing in her grip, managing to slip the hold like an eel and jump to her feet.

Thak and Nibak were across the room, correcting tosses. Back with her boots on the ground, Aya parried again and did something that Sena was not expecting. Her fingers grabbed the front of her cuirass before Aya checked her into the ground. All air was driven from her lungs and her head spun, choking for breath as a sharp whine crackled through her modulator. Aya mounted while she was dazed and pushed harder than she needed too to restrain her collar, air still not pooling in her lungs.

"Hey. Hey !"

Her ears were ringing, each blink hazy and spinning as she registered the magenta bucket casting a shadow over her. Everytime she closed her eyes, the world returned in a slow, foggy shape and Aya almost appeared as if she had two heads.

"Get off of her!"

Aya was shoved off and she was finally able to sputter, greedily sucking at air as she tried to process what had just happened.

"Didn't realize. She's laandur -" Aya was speaking, crossing her arms as if she hadn't just used an illegal toss and choked the air out of her partner.

"She barely weighs 30 kilos. What did you think would happen when you sat your fat shebs on her chest?"

"Watch it Djarin or you'll be next."

"What's going on over here?" Nibak trotted over, glancing between the boys and girls as Sena scrambled, finally able to sit up as the blood rushed back to her face.

"I'm ok!" she squeaked, not wanting to get Aya in trouble. The girl had already been through a lot and tattling on her would just make it worse. "Aya bested me. Knocked the wind out of me, that's all!"

Nibak tilted her visor toward Aya, letting the tension hang in the air, before shrugging slightly. "Be careful, Aya. You know that your vod is smaller than everyone else."

"I know, I'll be careful next time," Aya promised dolefully.

Nibak departed and the pairs split off again, Djarin turning away and grumbling quietly to himself. His wary visor kept glancing back, as if he were expecting Aya to make a second attempt to hurt Sena. With Ninak now watching with a hawk-like gaze, the lesson continued without any further issues. They were allowed their recess before moving onto academics. Whatever frustration Aya had wanted to vent had been allowed and Sena had covered her shebs by not saying anything. Again, she thought it would get better, that the girl had gotten her revenge, but found herself becoming the fixations of microaggressions.

From bumping into her desk, to pushing by her every chance she got, to even yanking on her braid once, Aya did not relent. How in kriff's name was this equal to being insulted? Sena hadn't intended on insulting Aya, so what was her problem? Come the end of the school day, she was grousing to herself, trying to walk it off and be the bigger person. Eventually, Aya would realize that she was being a brat and would leave her alone. If she were back in Genmaris, she would've punched Aya already, but she still felt bad for her. Aya was probably a nice person and was just going through a tough time, Sena could certainly relate.

"Hey," she stopped just a few houses down from the Vizsla home. Turning, she caught the glint of Djarin's silver helmet in the sun. "Why didn't you say anything? Aya has been torturing you all day."

"It's fine," Sena shrugged. "I know she's still echoy'la ."

"She choked you this morning," he reminded her flatly.

"Not difficult seeing how big I am," she brushed it off.

"What did you do?"

"I asked her if she wanted to join Xivi and I for our practice in the evening. She got rather upset, so I dropped it. She must've thought I was being contemptuous, but I just wanted to help her get her fitness up. We're all vod , we've got to help each other out," she explained, taken aback that Djarin was actually interested. This was the most he'd talked to her since she had arrived. Otherwise, they exchanged taunting rebuttals while trying to outpace one another in their exercises.

"And that warrants choking?" Din inquired dryly.

"I'm not upset. Just let it go. It's not a big deal. She'll probably go back to normal tomorrow."

"And if she doesn't?"

Sena paused, having not considered this option. What if she became Aya's punching bag to get out all those frustrations? Pursing her lips she let out a sigh, which crackled through the vocoder. "I'll deal with it. Thanks for the concern, but I'll still kick your shebs in the morning run tomorrow."

"Yeah right."

---

Also here's your translations!

Vod - Sibling/Comrade/Brother/Sister Jai'galaar - shriek hawk Buir - parent Vod'ika - little soldier/private Aliit - clan/family Su cuy'gar - You're still alive; greeting Su'cuy - Hi Sen'ori - big bird; respectful older sibling name for Senaar Elek - Yes Cin vhetin - blank slate Beskar'gam - armor Ori'vod - big sibling Alor - leader Karyai - living area/main area of Mandalorian home for eating and resting Ade - children Uj'alayi - dense, sweet Mandalorian cake Vor'e - Thanks Heturam - mouth burn; highly sought out in Mandalorian food and indicates VERY spicy food K'olar! - Come here! Get over here at once! Uur - Go Viniir - Run Shebs - butt; ass Shereshoy - lust for life that is Mandalorian Nayc - No Oya - Let's go! or lit. Let's Hunt! Dush'sebs - badass Kyramud - Assassin Laandur - weak; highly insulting Auretii - outsider Mandokar - the right stuff; for Mandalorians Vaar'ika - pipsqueak Gar mirsh solus - Your braincell is lonely Echoy'la - grieving, mourning

#big brother paz vizsla #paz vizsla & oc character #the manadalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #oc mandalorian #growing up mandalorian #din djarin x oc

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nottooldforthisship · 6 years

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- Relief next to me , by @haydolce : AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more. (333k, E)

- leave it to the breeze , by @hattalove : or a great british bake off au in which louis cares about winning and winning only, harry is made of sunshine and rainbow sprinkles, and niall sticks his nose into other people’s business. also featuring liam as louis’s best friend-slash-concerned mother, and zayn as a macaron connoisseur. (81k, E)

- shine by @lourrynavy ; Louis is an actor who needs to get away from the real world. He does the only thing that he can and runs away, finding himself in a small town where he happens upon Harry. What Louis doesn’t expect is to somehow fall in love and end up having to face what he was running from all along. (40k, M)

- Tis the Season for…Love? , by @afangirlfantasy: Prompt: Harry seems to have it all: A successful career as a pastry chef, a Victorian home in London, and a dedicated boyfriend who he's been with for years. One day he stops by his boyfriend's apartment to surprise him and finds out that he's not so dedicated to Harry after all. Shocked and too depressed to celebrate, he decides to skip Christmas and on a whim leaves on a plane to New York. In New York he meets Louis… Or...Louis might just be what Harry's needed all along. (27k, M)

- Flour and Chocolate by teaandtumblr : Then he approached the display cabinet. And the foreboding slammed into him. Because every product had letters next to it. Letters. GF, DF, V, O, VGN. What. The. Fuck? Lifting his eyes to the chalkboard menu spread across the back wall Louis felt physically ill. ‘Gluten-free’, ‘organic’, ‘vegan’, ‘paleo’, ‘dair-…’ Wait, what the fuck was a paleo? He had entered some hipster-trash establishment and it was more than time to get out. OR Louis is a single dad and Harry works at the newly opened bakery down the street.(145k, M)

- Float Down Like Autumn Leaves (Stay Now) , by @getmesometacos : The AU in which Louis has a 6 year old daughter with a costume emergency that puts her school’s annual Halloween party at risk, Halloween decorated cupcakes are hard to find and tall men look absolutely ridiculously cute in giant vegetables costumes. Co-starring Harry, who makes really good food for the kids. Featuring Niall, who works in a bakery but has a part time job as a babysitter. And as much as he doesn’t believe in love at first (or second) sight, Louis is really infatuated and really wouldn’t mind seeing Harry again.(16k, M)

- we’re still going, eight in the morning , by @nooelgallagher and @yoursongonmyheart : Harry washes his hands quickly before grabbing his phone. His screen lights up to 3 notifications.DJTommo is now following you!@DJTommo mentioned you in a tweet!Direct Message from @DJTommo!Harry yelps, throwing his phone to Niall who just barely catches it.Niall looks down at the phone, seeing first the tweet, then the DM. He tosses the phone back to Harry, who nearly drops it. “What are ya doing, mate! Answer him!”Harry thinks for a moment about what he wants to say. This is his chance to actually talk to Louis Tomlinson. Louis Tomlinson messaged him directly. He can say anything he wants. He begins typing, his fingers shaky.Niall comes over to stand next to Harry and peers down, looking to see what he wrote. When he does, he lets out a groan….Or, the one where Harry owns a bakery, Louis is a radio DJ, and Niall and Liam roll their eyes at their incessant flirting. (31k, E)

- taste on my tongue , by @bethaboolou : Louis Tomlinson, second place winner on TXF four years ago, is looking to reinvent his career. Harry Styles is a baker who is desperate for a bakery of his own.Louis doesn’t bake. Or cook. Or know how to use an oven.Take Louis. Take Harry. Add in a heaping cup of sexual tension. Another cup of delicious (and not so delicious) food. A smidgen of competitive spirit. A dash of hopes and dreams. And you get Kitchen Wars, a TV show that promises to be the must-watch event of the fall. (77k, E)

- come away with me , by @suspendrs: Or, Louis has to pick up the pieces of his and his daughter’s life after his wife dies, and Harry is a beautiful stranger that just wants to help. (80k, NR)

- Whether Clouds or Clear Skies , by @onewasturning : “You, young Harold, are a baker among curry houses and vintage clothing stores,” Louis says, and it forces a bark of surprised laughter out of Harry. “I’m a— sorry, what?” “Harry,” Louis says, “last night I had an experience bordering on profound.” “You’re making it sound like you did something sexual with my muffin,” Harry says. Or, Louis gets into the habit of stealing baked goods while Harry’s busy keeping tabs on the weather. (25k, E)

- Every Story Ever Told , by @all-these-larrythings : Becoming a best-selling author isn’t as difficult as Louis would have guessed. It seems all you need these days is the perfect blend of alcohol induced philosophy, complete disregard for one’s dignity, a live blog about how fucked love is, and a bored publisher interested enough to offer him a deal. (54k, NR)

- Skin New, Hands True, My Hands All Over You , by PearlyDewdrops : Harry designs wedding cakes, so of course meeting blissfully happy couples every day is part of his job description. Unfortunately, it’s caused Harry to perpetually hope each new day is the one he’ll find love, too. That is, until Harry realises everything he’s ever wanted is right under his nose in the shape of his best friend, Louis. But predictably, Harry only comes to this epiphany when Louis starts seeing someone else. And this is not a John Hughes movie as far as Harry is aware. Everyone else is pretty sure, though. Featuring a heavy dose of pining, copious amounts of alcohol, drunk dialing that results in a situation reminiscent of Rachel Green’s, a ginger cat that likes to interrupt intimate moments, and a Halloween party that changes everything. (44k, E)

* RESTAURANT OWNER fics*

- all the lights are full of colour, by @infinitelymint : So, fast-forwarding eight years from the day Harry met Louis, he is now a twenty-seven year old owner of one of the most up-and-coming eating establishments on the London restaurant scene, father of two wonderful boys and… separated from his husband. Now, that last part definitely was never a part of the original plan. Or, Harry and Louis are separated, but for the sake of their two sons, they choose to spend Christmas together. It may just lead to a Christmas miracle. (26k, E)

- You'll Hear Me Calling for You , by pinky_heaven19 : OR the one where Harry is an Alpha and Louis has a problem with it - until he doesn't. (42k, E)

- Let's Go Get Away , by @letsjustsee : Or, a fluffy AU in which Louis owns a restaurant that's next door to Harry's shop, and Louis is completely unaware how smitten he really is. (7k, NR)

* FOOD BLOGGING fics*

- 'Til I Tasted You , by @icanhazzalou : Louis is Harry Styles' biggest fan. It doesn't matter that Harry is famous for being a food blogger and Louis can't cook to save his life.At least, until Harry offers to give Louis a cooking lesson. Then it matters just a teensy bit. (14k, E)

#mine #fic rec #my fic rec #I probably missed a lot of them #in the chef part #anyway #here you go anon :)

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wildernessuntothemselves · 7 years

Text

Kookies And Cream

Word Count: 11.6k (oh man holy shit)

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff. The whole package.

Author’s Note: You know the definition of a switch? Just look at the two characters in this story lol switch heaven

2k Requests, Masterlist

When Jungkook first came to room with you, you were less than ecstatic about it. You had only ever roomed with one other person before at the start of your freshman year of college, but you quickly got fed up with it. Not that your roommate was bad or anything. In fact, if you were being fair, you'd admit that she was a sweetheart. But you are an only child, and you were never used to sharing anything with anyone, and despite what everyone said about the joys of having siblings, you simply weren't interested. You have none and that's the way you liked it.

Tell that to your parents though. They were convinced that you needed the company after years of keeping mostly to yourself unless you had to, with the exception of a couple of close friends. They thought that if you keep at it, you're going to turn insane from being in your head too much. Where they got that shit piece of pseudo-psychology you don't know but it had enough hold on their minds to make them force you to get a room in the college dorms -yuck- and live with a stranger for an entire month.

Or it would've been a month anyway if you hadn't made that poor girl's life a living hell so much so that by the end of the third week, she was running away from your shared dorm room like the devil himself was behind her.

The series of students who came and went through your dorm didn't last long enough to qualify as roommates. Your record was six hours, that's how long it took to send one dude,-Hoseok, you'll never forget the name- running for his life. It's a shame too, he was cute, and you had to forever ruin your chances with him. But, oh well, there are much more important things in life, like having a bathroom all to yourself.

Soon enough, your college caught on to your reign of terror and they, not so kindly, asked you to vacate the premises and restore the harmony to the student body. Your parents were forced to rent an apartment for you, seeing as you weren't allowed in the dorms anymore and they lived too far away for you to stay with them. Yeah, they could've withheld their money from you and taught you an important lesson about the consequences of being such a spoiled child but they loved you too much to do that. They've never been able to deal any real punishment to their baby girl, and that's probably how you turned out to be so headstrong.

Little did you know, however, that your comeuppance was coming for you. It took five years, five long years where you enjoyed your solitude to the max, but just as you were enrolling in a one-year post-graduate Master’s program, instead of the peaceful send off into the working world you were counting on it to be, it turned into a shitshow of the highest degree with the arrival of a certain bunny-toothed brat.

Jungkook is the son of your family's next door neighbours. But other than the daily 'Good mornings' and the occasional dinner invitation, your families weren't really close, and the only contact you had with their shy son was that one year you tutored him in math. To be sure, you were shit at math but that didn't stop you from attempting to make some money off the kid.

You see, Jungkook had a painfully obvious puppy crush on you, and even though you didn't teach him shit, and what you did teach him was mindbogglingly wrong, he still never spoke a word of it to his parents, studying on his own and getting good marks just so he'd keep seeing you.

To say that you were a bitch to him would be an understatement. You'd frequently invite your boyfriends over, taking advantage of the fact that his parents were never around because of their jobs, and using his place to hook up with them, knowing Jungkook would never tell on you. You did not care or even notice much that you were breaking the boy's heart.

Eventually, though, he got sick of your shit and asked you to stop coming over. But he still didn't tell either of your parents, ever the sweet kid. You didn't hear or see much of him after that, and you suspect that was intentionally his doing, until now.

As if the universe was punishing you for all your sins against the boy, it made him appear again in your life, but this time you were the one who was going to suffer.

On the last day before your Master’s program was set to start, your mum dropped the bomb on you, informing you that your old pupil was to shack up with you this year, and no amount of whining or begging or scheming was going to get you out of it. She gave you an ultimatum: either you let him room with you and look after him, or she stops giving you money and leaves your spoiled ass out in the cold to fend for yourself. Any funny business from you and you're done.

You were in denial at first, convincing yourself that it couldn't possibly be that bad. From what you remembered of Jungkook, he was a shy kid who did anything humanly possible to please you. You were sure that his crush must be long gone by now but he would still be the timid boy you remembered. Right?

Wrong. Jungkook was the devil incarnate.

He was nothing like the boy you used to know. For one thing, he grew. Instead of looking down on him, he now towered over you. Not that you were expecting the boy to remain midget sized forever, but the sheer scale of his height change was intimidating. His long, thick thighs made him look all the more tall.

Speaking of his thighs, your next door baby neighbor had no right to grow up to have such drool-inducing thighs. He must be aware of how sexy they are because he always puts them on display, adorning them in slim fitted jeans -and sometimes leather fucking pants, seriously who was this kid- and giving you such dirty thoughts they could make Jesus cry.

The rest of his body didn't show such stark evidence of his muscle bulk, it was all lean and hidden underneath his skin and clothes, fooling you into believing that it wasn’t that strong. Until you made the stupid mistake of challenging him one day, taking away his dinner and threatening not to let him eat until he's cleaned the mess he always makes after him.

He had snatched the food out of your hands faster than you could perceive and pushed you on the sofa, restraining you with those damn thighs of his as he continued the Netflix show he was watching and paid no mind to your struggles to get out from underneath him. When he was done, he left the empty plate on the table and went to take a shower.

That was the first time you'd learned of his horrible strength, and throughout the next few months, you became aware of it more and more with each passing day. Like when you'd take too long in the bathroom and he'd physically remove you from it like you weighed nothing more than a towel in order to get ready for his day. Or on those rare moments when he would be kind enough to help you move some piece of furniture around so you could clean under it after that one time you almost got crushed under a storage unit you were trying to move. He never let you do that on your own again despite how hard you tried to shrug him off.

Most maddening of all is that he refused to properly address you, always calling you by your first name instead of Noona since your reunion even though you've never told him he could do that, but no matter how many times you corrected him, he simply ignored you.

He may be doing things way worse than that but that's the one thing that annoyed you the most. You've never allowed anyone younger than you to call you by your name before. Call it being power hungry but you liked the respect you got simply for your greater age and that's why most of your friends were younger than you. So to have a brat like Jungkook simply disregard you like that got on your nerves more than anything.

You couldn't even relieve all that stress he was causing you. Every time you'd invite a guy over, Jungkook would do something to make the boy leave. It was as if he was doing it on purpose. His ways varied. One time he decided to clean up the apartment all of a sudden, specifically your room, and when you and your hook up headed for the couch, he went to clean that too. Another time he invited his unholy friends over in the middle of your hook up and they made sure to disturb you as much as they possibly can. And yet another time he called your mum and told her that you wanted to talk to her mid-fuck... His ways were endless.

You'd tried going against your preference and heading to your designated hook-up's place instead of yours like the usual but that proved to be very challenging. When you had a one night stand at your place, you could simply kick the person out after you're done and enjoy a peaceful night of sleep all to yourself. But when you hooked up at somebody else's place you had to make the infamous walk of shame each following morning, with an empty stomach and a restless night of trying to sleep in a stranger's bed, fighting for space and never agreeing on the optimal temperature.

Of course, Jungkook found a way to make it even harder for you. He'd sometimes, somehow, manage to find where exactly your hook-up's place is and bang on his door until they'd open up then he'd pretend to be your boyfriend who caught you cheating, watching with barely contained glee as you got kicked out. Or if the hook-up was particularly nasty, like that Jinyoung guy, Jungkook would drag you out of the apartment himself. Soon enough, a rumor spread around the whole campus about a cheating senior girl and her crazy freshman boyfriend, and you couldn’t even find someone to hook up with after that.

Jungkook wasn't content with just fucking up your chances of getting laid for the entire year. No, he made it a point to rub it in your face by hooking up with a new girl every chance he got and doing things to her to keep her screaming all night. You didn't know what he could possibly be doing to make them go off like that short of a murder scene, but whatever he did, it kept you all up and made sure you got no sleep.

You spent months suffering through all this, wondering why the fuck he was acting this way until you got fed up and asked him about it one day. You weren't really expecting an answer, so far you had just chalked it up to him being a demon from hell sent to test out your patience. You certainly didn't expect the way he so nonchalantly answered you, "It's payback for all the times you tortured me as a teenager."

Damn, did that kid know how to hold a grudge.

After much struggling, you finally submitted to your fate, figuring that he'd get tired of torturing you eventually, but he never did. He only got worse until you couldn't even handle staying in your apartment anymore and only got back to it to sleep. That is if you were lucky enough and he didn't have another one of his girls over.

"Oh god, would you put on some underwear?" You scowl at Jungkook over your bowl of cereal, disapproving of the way he was wearing his grey sweatpants sans underwear and forcing you to see exactly what he's packing. "This is practically sexual harassment."

"Don't pretend you don't like what you see, baby," Jungkook says smugly, sitting down opposite you and spreading his legs, giving you an unfiltered view at little Jungkook... which looked slightly hard? You shake your head, must be just morning wood.

You get up and point your spoon at him, "See this whole thing right here," You circle your spoon in his general direction, "Is disturbing."

You throw the remainder of your uneaten cereal in the trash and put your bowl and spoon in the sink, spinning on your heel and leaving the kitchen, not noticing the pout now etched on Jungkook's face.

This was useless. You've never been good at studying outside your house. The conditions just were never right. The library was too quiet for you as you liked to read things out loud and talk to yourself sometimes, moving around as if you were explaining the subject to a classroom, and that just wasn't permitted in a library. Not to mention that it made you look insane. Cafes were too noisy and crowded for you as people socialized and talked at a volume higher than your internal voice and you couldn't even hear yourself think.

Today you discovered that the campus park was also out of the question as you constantly felt tiny phantom insect legs crawling all over your body. You snap your textbook closed and get up, brushing off the ghost insects and cursing Jungkook for forcing you out of your apartment, your safe haven. Grabbing your phone, you text Yoongi, demanding that he meet you at the nearest bar as soon as possible.

When Yoongi arrives fifteen minutes later, he sees that you've downed half a bottle of wine already. He raises an eyebrow at you, an amused smile on his face. "That kid got you hard, huh?"

You snort, "Fuck you, Yoongi, you should be on my side. But if you must know then yes, the devil spawn has me bested." You grumble and your entire face falls into a pathetic pout. "He's not letting me do anything, Yoongi. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I can't study. I can't even fuck."

"Why don't you just fuck him?"

You choke on your mouthful of red wine. After coughing and sputtering until you can breathe again, you smack your best friend hard. "How can you say that?!"

Yoongi shrugs, "Why not? From your fixation on describing his body to me, I'd say you want him."

"I was only telling you how inappropriate he's being!"

"Sure, love. That's why you were describing his body in detail to me." He gives you an unimpressed look and you blush. "You'd be killing two birds, or at this point four or five, with one stone. You'd get the fuck you've been running after for months, you wouldn't have strange girls keeping you up at night with their screams of pleasure because you'd be the one screaming." You give him a look of horror at that but he ignores you, "And he'd probably go easy on you after that. Since he would get to fuck you, he wouldn't be bothering you so much around the house... You get the idea."

"I'm denouncing this friendship." You declare but Yoongi merely rolls his eyes.

Your talk with Yoongi fucked you up, and you ended up finishing that wine bottle all by yourself in an attempt to drown the unwelcome thoughts he was giving you about your evil roommate. Ok, fine, so you may find him a bit attractive, there was no shame in admitting that, but you were not about to reward his behavior by giving your body to him. No, misbehaving boys like him needed to be punished.

You stumble all the way up to the door of your apartment, holding your keys ahead of you as if they had some kind of GPS to guide you home. You must have spent an entire ten minute stretch of time trying and failing to stick your keys inside the keyhole, and when you managed to stick one in, it turned out to be the wrong one. Exasperated and feeling like you were on the verge of a drunken breakdown, you start banging on the door, hoping Jungkook would have mercy on you for once and open the door for you.

But he doesn't, despite the fact that you could clearly hear him in the living room feeling on some girl, and he has to have heard you. Still, you bang on the door until you can't anymore. Feeling a storm welling up inside your stomach, you fall with a loud thump on the floor, wrapping your arms around yourself and praying you wouldn't humiliate yourself by throwing up right in front of your door.

You hear a rushed shuffling of feet inside the apartment before the door you were leaning on flies open and you fall to the floor. A familiar scent surrounds you as Jungkook turns you on your back to look at you, a concerned look on his face. "Hey, are you ok?"

Your traitorous eyes can't help but be drawn to his shirtless body, and you groan. "Ugh, go put a shirt on." You weakly smack his naked chest with your balled up fist, your drunken mind simply not able to throw up its usual defenses against the attractive boy.

Jungkook, on the other hand, takes offense to your words, scoffing and getting up to leave you on the floor. Your hands shoot out to grab onto his pants, pulling on them hard as you attempt to make him stay. "No, Kookie don't leave. Help me, please. I'm gonna throw up." You cry pathetically and he turns back to you, holding onto his pants to prevent them from getting pulled down.

"Alright, alright, but let go, you're gonna make me lose my pants."

You immediately let him go, managing to feel embarrassed enough to blush even in your drunken state. You feel strong arms wrap around you and pull you off the floor, carrying you bridal style and going in the direction you assume the bathroom to be.

Jungkook had a tight hold on you, pressing you up securely against his chest as he carried you off, and you were overwhelmed by the closeness. You could feel exactly how sculpted his body was and you were surrounded by his scent which surprisingly still managed to be pleasant to you despite your nauseousness. However, something about that scent felt familiar to you but you couldn't put your finger on it...

"Hey, is that Victoria's Secret?!" You exlaim, finally remembering where exactly you knew that smell from as he set you down on the floor in front of the toilet seat. You don't let him go as you pull him closer to you and sniff him up. "It is Victoria's Secret!"

Jungkook removes your body off of him and jumps back, a deep crimson blush staining his face. Whatever he or you were going to say gets interrupted by a fresh wave of nausea and before you know it, you're grabbing onto the toilet seat in a death grip and hurling the contents of your stomach into it. Jungkook uses that moment's reprieve and bails, bolting out of the bathroom and leaving you on your own. You were hurt but thankful, at least now he wouldn't witness the unsightly scene you were making as you gag and wretch your heart out.

You don't get to feel relieved for long though because after you overhear an argument you can't quite make out between Jungkook and the girl, you hear the apartment door slam shut before Jungkook is by your side again with a warm towel in his hand that he uses it to pat away the sweat running over your face in between your throwing up sessions.

When you've finally emptied out the contents of your stomach and then more, you shakily reach out to flush the horror scene in front of you and try to salvage any shred of pride left, but Jungkook holds you down and flushes it for you then he gets up to grab you a cup of water that you greedily drink up.

As soon as you're done, Jungkook sweeps you up in his arms again and carries you to your bedroom, laying you down and tucking you in before leaving without a word and you assume he's gone this time for good after he's done more than his duty.

But again you're wrong as Jungkook reappears with a cup of orange juice and a cup of water and he gently rouses you up from the superficial sleep you'd gone into, ignoring your protests and insisting that you drink everything.

"I can't. It will just make me throw up." You whine, fighting weakly against him to let you go back to sleep.

"You need this, ___. I won't leave you until you drink it." He holds the freshly squeezed orange juice to your mouth and you begrudgingly take a sip, figuring that the faster you drink it up, the sooner he'll let you get your much-needed sleep.

At long last, when you've lightly sipped your way through both cups, he asks you some questions -Can you breathe alright? Is there any pain? Not even here?- and he makes sure you're extra tucked in before he finally closes the light and lets you sleep.

You barely register the bed dipping beside you as you clutch your head in an attempt to keep it intact against a ravenous headache ripping through it. You hear a soothing voice calling out to you, and strong, sure hands pulling you up and removing your hands from your face, replacing them with two small pills at your lips and a cup of cool water to wash them down.

After some time, when your headache finally calms down enough for you to be able to look up at your merciful savior, you see none other than Jungkook looking down at you with concern upon his face. Before you can stop yourself, you mutter out, "Oh, it's you."

Jungkook's worried frown turns into one of irritation and he bites at you, "You're welcome." before getting up to leave in a huff. Your hands reach out to grab onto him, looking up at him in earnest and speaking sincerely, "Thank you, Jungkook."

His features soften at that, "I'm gonna make us some breakfast."

"Oh, you don't have to do that." You wave your hands in front of you, not wishing to cause him any more trouble.

"I'm gonna make us breakfast." He repeats firmly and you slump down into your bed as you watch him leave, silently feeling thankful that he didn't listen to you when you hear your stomach grumble in hunger.

As you wait for him, you look around your room aimlessly and your eyes land on your vanity chair that was displaced from its usual spot to where it now resided next to your bed, and it doesn't take you long to realize why. Jungkook must have slept on it the night before in order to keep an eye on you. You feel incredible guilt and shame wash over you as you think about how restless his night must have been in that uncomfortable chair just so he can watch over you when he didn't even have to.

When Jungkook gets back to your room with a tray of eggs and fruit, you thank him again quietly, and despite you not clarifying what exactly you were thankful for, the small smile on his face lets you know that he got it.

You were happily munching on the delicious food when you hear him clear his throat and ask timidly, "Did you sleep alright?"

You turn to him but you see him focused on his food, purposefully avoiding your gaze. "Yeah. I mean way better than it would have been without your help."

He nods and then hurriedly lobs a piece of orange into his mouth, restless under your gaze, but, nervous as he is, he doesn't chew on it well enough and it gets stuck in his throat and he starts coughing violently. You rush to his side, hitting his back and helping him dislodge the offensive piece out of his throat then you hand him your cup of water and watch as he chugs it down, finally breathing again.

Jungkook looks up at you, giving you an uncertain look. You're confused at the conflicting emotions in his eyes until you realize that you still had your arm around him, unconsciously rubbing your hand up at down his back. You quickly withdraw your hand and you both fall into an awkward silence.

"Listen, Jungkook." You start nervously, taking a big gulp of breath as his doe eyes turn to look at you. "I know you've done so much for me already just this past night, but would it be too much to ask you to set aside your grudge against me for just a few weeks? You see, exams are coming up and I really can't study outside the house. If things continue like this I will flunk. So I would really appreciate it if-"

"Ok," Jungkook cuts your rant off and you stare at him wide-eyed.

"Ok?"

"Yes, I was being immature anyway. What you did to me was a long time ago and I should've just gotten over it but instead, I acted petty and I'm sorry." He looked genuinely troubled and at war with himself so you rushed to ease his mind.

"No, no, I was honestly such a bitch to you, and I deserve all that I got." You smile in amusement at his shocked face. "But it's got to stop now or my parents will kill me because I failed my tests and then you'd have no one else to torture."

"I wasn't trying to torture you," Jungkook says sheepishly.

"Peace?" You smile, extending your hand to him and he takes it right away. "Peace."

In the following month, your view of Jungkook makes a 180 turn. Now that he wasn't making it his mission to make your every waking (and sleeping) moment a living hell, you realize that he's actually not that bad. No, scratch that. You realize that he's fucking golden.

He's funny, frequently making your sides split from laughing too hard. He has the most hilarious little reactions to everything and he is never afraid to make himself look like a fool just so he would see you crack a smile on a dreary day. On your part, you also enjoyed making him laugh. While you weren't nearly as funny as he was, you loved to hear him laugh, the sound so youthful and silly, it always lit your world up. Luckily, Jungkook seemed prepared to laugh at all your antics, no matter how pathetic, and you got to hear the heartwarming sound often.

He is the picture of the perfect gentleman, always prepared to help you any way you needed. From helping you open jars of your favorite honey to bringing you Chinese takeout and binge-watching Netflix with you when you just couldn't bear to face the world that day.

He texts you good morning on the days he doesn't see you. He texts you goodnight when one of you is out late. He texts you 'how are you feeling?' just before you head into an important test, and he texts you 'how did you do?' the minute you get out of the examination room.

He may still act like a brat a lot of the time but now you know that it's just him teasing you and not because of a decade old grudge. And he more than makes up for it with the countless sweet little things he does, not that you are ever really annoyed with his teasing anymore. Jungkook has a heart of gold. You've never encountered anyone as sweet and earnest as him. He wore his heart on his sleeve, his every emotion raw and real, and you find yourself doing everything in your might to keep it this way, to protect him from the cruel world that would seek to get its dirty hands on such perfect innocence.

Jungkook's face became an indispensable constant in your life. His laugh a lullaby. His smile a ray of sunshine. His eyes more precious than the most beautiful night sky.

If someone had told you just a month ago that you'd be sitting on your sofa, yanking the textbooks and meticulously written notes out of Jungkook's lap and genuinely trying to ease up his pre-exam stress, you would've laughed in their faces and called them insane.

But here you were, hands cupping Jungkook's precious face and telling him to take deep breaths to match your own.

"Jungkookie, please relax. You've studied more than enough, honey. You'll do great." You speak after you're convinced that he was breathing again. You caress his cheeks softly and he closes his eyes and unconsciously leans into your touch. Your heart flutters at his reflexive action and you have to jerk your hands back to your sides, making Jungkook's eyes snap open at the loss and a small pout appear on his thin lips.

"You need to go to sleep. It's the best thing you can do now." You clear your throat, standing up and dragging him behind you towards his bedroom, avoiding eye contact at all cost. "Research has shown that you retain information and score better on exams if you have a good night's sleep beforehand."

You lay him down on his bed and pull the covers over him. Jungkook props himself up on a pillow to look at you, his tired eyes lighting up with mischief. "Oh baby, I love it when you talk science to me."

Your hand shoots out lightening-quick to smack the increasingly shameless boy in an effort to hide the blush on your face. Really, he's getting too familiar with you.

Jungkook lets you deliver the hit. Even though he could've easily stopped you with his freakishly good reflexes, he lets you have this one with a light-hearted laugh on his part. Again, your stupid heart does a backflip at the lovely sound.

Your new relationship with Jungkook was bad for your health, you lament, muttering a 'goodnight' to the overgrown child and preparing to make a dash for sanctuary outside of this hazardous zone. But Jungkook is too cruel to let up.

"Will you sleep with me?"

"W-what?" You choke on air, knowing exactly what he means despite the dirty part of your brain pathetically praying that it's the other meaning, while your poor heart agrees because at least then it would get a break from this emotional abuse.

"I would sleep much better if you're here with me." He looks up at you, bright hope mingling and exploding with the stars in his eyes to make the brightest nebulas. He has to know what he's doing to you. He has to, that manipulative brat.

You practically swoon and fall to the bed, not even caring that you despise not having your space when you sleep. Something told you that you'd enjoy Jungkook's presence more than your beloved solitude. And despite warning him to keep to his side, you wake in the middle of the night to find yourself good and cuddled up by the boy, and your previous suspicion is confirmed. It's the first time you've ever woken up not feeling cold as Jungkook's body heat forms a force field of warmth around you and you find yourself snuggling deeper into him. Your body fits perfectly into the concavity of his own and his limbs surround you, making you feel safe but not caged. You were as comfortable as a lovebird under its mate’s wings and that thought deeply worried you.

Finally, exams were over, and with them the transitional period of your relationship with Jungkook. The stress and trauma of exams and the need to survive them had brought you closer together. You'd take turns calming each other down. One day you'd be the level-headed one, taking Jungkook out of his own mind and making him see that things weren't really that bad, and the next day he'd be the one convincing you that, no, you shouldn't just drop out and become a stripper.

Past the first few awkward and unsure times, cuddling together has become a habit. Whenever one of you was particularly stressed about something, they would crawl into the other's bed and make them play with their hair and rub their back until they fell into a peaceful sleep. Truthfully, you felt perfectly fine half of the time you slipped into his bed, you were just craving his touch. It wasn't your fault that his body felt like your own little sanctuary and his voice resembled that of an angel.

If you were being honest with yourself, you would admit that your life with Jungkook was becoming more domestic than any friendship had any right to be. He made you breakfast and coffee every morning to coax you out of your habit of oversleeping and you made him dinner every night to dissuade him from his usual meals of junk food and coke. You cuddled and slept together most nights. You went out on cute little 'dates' around the city, both coming from a small town and making it a mission to explore as much of the city as you can. You've never thought to do that despite having spent three years here prior to Jungkook's arrival. It wasn't until he suggested it one day that you suddenly found yourself starving for a little adventure, spurned on by Jungkook's reckless youthfulness. He made you feel alive.

So why weren't you dating? Because despite him now being a grown ass man, he is still a whole four years younger than you are. You’re doing your Masters while he is just a fucking Freshman. You've just graduated from college and he’s just graduated from high school. How many more ways can you phrase it? Your friends never let you hear the end of it. They had gone up into a mini-riot when they'd learned that you used to babysit him ages ago.

Yoongi was the only one not losing his shit over this. He still thought it was a stupid idea -Jungkook is too young to be serious about this, not to mention he's your neighbor and your mothers know each other- but at least he wasn't treating you like you had committed some kind of crime.

You never really cared what people said. You're not the type of person to plan your life around pleasing people, but your friends' reactions made you falter because if that's what they thought then what did Jungkook himself think? He is the only one whose opinion on this mattered and if everyone thought it was a bad idea and you were sick for wanting him then that's probably what he would think too. Maybe all his gestures and actions are as innocent as him. He is probably doing it all with pure intentions and you're just a sick crazy lady who's reading too much into them.

After all, he's never once hinted at wanting something more with you, and it's not like you can exactly ask him about it. With any other person you would have, but because of the delicate circumstances of this situation, you obviously couldn't, and so you decide to just bottle up all of your emotions until you find a way to get rid of them quietly and for good.

At first, you wanted to distance yourself from Jungkook until you can reach an extent that is acceptable for two people who were just friends, but Jungkook didn’t let you even try. Despite how reserved he might appear to those who don’t know him, in real life, Jungkook is a human koala; he’s incredibly clingy, and once he holds on to someone he doesn’t let them go easily.

So it didn’t matter how busy you told him you were. Like the huge softie he was, he planned his schedule around yours, content with merely sitting in silence with you as you studied and he played his video games, every once in a while reaching over to squeeze your hand or draw mindless patterns on the back of it and smiling angelically at you. When he’d do that, you would never have the heart to reject him like you're supposed to do and tell him that you need both hands to work. You'd just let him hold it as your progress slows down significantly -only partly because of the practicality of working with just one hand but mostly because of the storm of butterflies in your stomach called into existence by his touch- and his character dies dozens of times while his teammates scream at him.

In the end, you resorted to inviting Yoongi over whenever possible, knowing that Jungkook is timid around the older male. He’d kept his distance the first few times you’d done that but when he realized that this recent development was becoming a constant thing, he’d tried to overcome his shyness and reach out to you. You could see the hesitation in his every move, in the way his hand would linger in the air for a second before touching you. Or in the way he’d stutter when he’d try to deliver his normal banter, mischief absent from the words and replaced by a confused insecurity.

But even that didn’t last long because every time he’d try to get closer to you, you’d turn to Yoongi and touch him instead. It broke your heart how easily that affected him. The look of betrayal in his eyes deeply reminiscent of those long gone days when you’d discard him to have fun with other boys.

After the most heart-wrenching period of time in your life where you had to watch yourself break down Jungkook after he’d innocently offered his heart to you, trusting you not to break it again, Jungkook finally learns his lesson.

He stopped reaching out to you all together and started keeping to himself, only talking to you as much as a roommate needs to talk to the other. He stopped inviting you out to things and rejected your own invitations to him. Even the cuddling stopped and you were back to being cold again. It all made your heart ache, this wasn’t what you wanted. You just wanted to keep at a healthy distance from him so you’d quit your infatuation with the boy three years your junior, but you wanted to remain friends. Damn it, you never meant to lose him.

But it would be unfair to him to push for it now. Even on the off chance that he’d trust you a third time, you didn’t want him to. You needed to stop being so selfish. Jungkook deserves to get his distance from you and find a girl his own age who’d love him and never even think of hurting him. He deserves the best in this shitty world and that wasn’t you.

And so you’d turned a blind eye when Jungkook started behaving rudely towards you. You don’t know what triggered the sudden shift in his behavior exactly but you’d chalked it up to him taking revenge on you again and to be honest, you more than deserved it. Except this time it wasn’t teasing and prank-like humor, this was straight up brashness. Even during his most intense bouts of revenge, he always picked his words carefully, taking care not to say anything actually offensive, but now he’s turned into this guy who just says whatever without giving a fuck about people’s feelings. Abrasive and cocky, only Yoongi could match his new bluntness. It’s almost as if he was actively trying to imitate the older boy...

Stepping up to the door of your bedroom, you don’t have long to wonder why it was wide open when you've always closed it before you left. Your confused thoughts screech to a halt when you see a large figure laying on your bed, but the fear is quickly replaced by worry when you realize that it’s Jungkook. It's dark and you can’t see all that well but you could recognize that voice anywhere, even if it was coming out in soft whimpers and choked sobs like it was right now.

Your heart clenches painfully in your chest at the thought that Jungkook might be crying. Oh god, what if he’s realized that you’d purposefully distanced yourself from him and he’s hurting? Jungkook has always been sensitive even if he was bad at expressing his emotions. Maybe he’s heartbroken over your recent behavior but he doesn’t know how to tell you that. What if...

Your self-disparaging train of thought is gradually derailed by a curious detail in Jungkook’s movement. His body moves minutely but nonstop and with a rhythmic quality about it. His face nuzzles into your pillow as his body writhes on top of the bed, almost grinding on...

When you hear his “cry” again, soft and sounding suspiciously like your name, you’re almost struck down with the truth of the what was happening in front of your eyes. Jungkook was masturbating. In your bed. To your scent. To the thought of you.

As though a woman possessed, you step into the room and slam the door closed behind you. Jungkook jumps at the sound and turns to face you, pulling up the covers around himself.

“Kookie, what are you doing here?” You ask with sickly sweetness, pretending you don’t know exactly what he’s been doing just a moment ago. A plan forms in your mind. A bad, wicked plan that you certainly shouldn't follow, but after witnessing the boy so high on just the thought of you, you can't seem to bring yourself to care much.

This proves that you've been torturing yourself for no real reason. Jungkook does want you, at least sexually. If he wants you and you want him then there is no reason to keep feeling guilty about it. There is no reason for you to deny yourself from the pleasure of having him. The only real danger here was getting your heart broken when the boy invariably tells you that he's only in it for the sex, but at this moment you are desperate enough for him that you couldn't be bothered to care about that. Let the future you deal with the heartbreak, you'll enjoy the sex.

Jungkook pulls the covers tighter around himself and subtly tucks himself back into his pants, or so he thinks anyway. “I was waiting for you. I wanted to sleep with you.” He answers lamely, again with the suggestive words, except this time you knew it’s the second meaning he really wanted.

“So you’re finally done being a brat?” You can’t help but scold him, still feeling a little petty and upset.

“Only if you’re done ignoring me.” He replies defiantly despite the incriminating situation you've caught him in.

You stare him down, thinking of your next move as Jungkook squirms under your gaze. You don't address the fact that you hadn’t cuddled for weeks now, and start getting rid of your uncomfortable clothes until you’re standing in front of a shocked Jungkook in just your underwear. The boy feeling equal parts embarrassed and turned on.

“What? It’s hot.” You answer his still scandalized expression with a smirk. You slip into bed and press your back against him, ready to commence with the cuddling without a care in the world, but Jungkook wriggles away before your ass can touch a certain part of his body.

“You know what? On second thought, it’s probably too hot to cuddle. I’m just gonna go back to my room.” Jungkook stammers and attempts to get up but you quickly turn towards him and shove him flat against the bed, pouting, “No, stay. I’ve missed you.”

Jungkook stares up at you, frozen, as you wedge one leg between his, your thigh nestling against the hardness you find there. “Oh, what is that?” You exaggerate your surprise, having way too much fun with this.

“I’m sorry! I’ll leav-AH” Jungkook’s squeaks are interrupted by a loud cry when you run your hand under the cover, searching for the thing that was poking your thigh and ending up palming him through his pants. He throws his head back against the pillow, all fight leaving his body at once. “Oh my, Kookie, are you hard?”

You don’t really give him the chance to respond as you press the heel of your hand against his balls, slowly kneading them. “You are hard. You were trying to get me to cuddle you when you’re this horny. What a naughty boy.”

“No, I w-wasn’t.”

“Really? You told me yourself just a minute ago. The only other explanation is that I've caught you masturbating to me in my own bed and you thought you could lie to cover your ass... But that can’t be, can it, Kookie? You're a good boy. You'd never do something like that.” You purr in his ear, enjoying the way the boy was hyperventilating under you from the mixture of adrenaline and arousal, choosing to keep silent as he enjoys the humiliating handjob.

“Throw the covers away, baby.” Jungkook obeys your order despite the shudder running through his body and the flames of shame threatening to light him up.

“Now, pull down your pants and boxers -no, sweetie, I want you to do it." You say when he looks like he is going to protest. You weren’t going to force him into anything. If he wanted this then he needed to act like it. You were done feeling like the aggressor in this relationship. "I need to know that you want this too.”

“Oh baby, look at you.” You coo when he obeys, running your fingers lightly over his cock and tongue poking out to lick your lips at the stream of precum leaking from his round tip. “You’re so pretty.”

Jungkook wasn’t big by any means, he is average if not leaning more towards the small size, but damn if he didn’t have the prettiest cock you’ve ever laid eyes on. His shaft stuck out from the middle of his black curls, fat and soft to the touch, and his head flared and glistening with precum, making your mouth water.

You get up on your knees and shuffle down until you’re nestled between his thighs. Jungkook cranes his neck to look at you, anticipating your next move as if his life depended on it. Unable to take it anymore, you bend down and swipe your tongue across his slit then eagerly pull it back into your mouth. You and Jungkook both moan out at that, him with desperation and you with content. “You taste so good. So salty yet so sweet.” You coo, bending down again to take his head into your mouth, sucking on it to gather all the precum that has leaked out.

Jungkook’s hips involuntarily push upwards, seeking the pleasurable heat of your mouth but you immediately pull back, smacking his thigh lightly in reprimand. “Tsk tsk, you think you deserve my mouth, baby, after the way you’ve been treating me?”

“I’m sorry.” He whimpers pathetically, making it so hard for you not to just shove him into your mouth and give him the kind of blowjob that would melt his brain.

“You think that just because you have such a pretty cock that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself?” You say even as you bend down to lick at him some more, swiping your tongue from the base right to the tip then going back down with a trail of kisses down to his balls, lathering them with your tongue as you look up at him, his erect cock partially obstructing your vision. “So, so pretty.”

“I’m sorry, noona.”

Your head snaps up, eyes widening at what he’s just called you. Jungkook is still as teary-eyed and desperate as ever, but now there was a definite sly glint to his eyes. “What did you just say?”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be a good boy from now on. Just please suck my cock.” A ghost of a smirk distorts the lovely shape of his lips as he watches you carefully before adding. “Noona.”

You never knew that a single word could hold so much power over someone. Hearing Jungkook finally call you Noona fills you with an insatiable need such as you've never felt before. You push his sweats even further down his legs until they're past his knees then you straddle one of his thighs, ignoring how embarrassingly wet your panties have suddenly become, and start grinding your pussy against him. Under your breath, you mutter a prayer of thanks to whatever god is out there because if they had listened to your wishes of having Jungkook address you properly before, you wouldn't have been able to stop yourself from jumping his bones each time he said it.

“You little brat.” You spit, feeling yourself already perilously close to the edge when the muscle in his thigh reflexively contracts as he feels your juices sticking against his skin. No, you won't give him the pleasure of making you cum first. The brat doesn't deserve it. You fist his cock and pump it brutally up and down, your hand blurring over it and not leaving him any room to breathe.

“Noona, noona, stop please, I’m gonna cum, noona, ah, ah, no-uhhh, noonahhh,” Even in his pleasurable delirium, the boy still doesn't shut up.

When his orgasm hits him, he suddenly stops resisting and spreads his thighs as he convulses, cumming all over himself and filling you with the urge to fuck him, to just climb on top of him and give him what his eyes are practically begging you for even after his last orgasmic shudders subside.

As if reading your mind, he sniffles up at you, “Noona... take me.” Like a whore, he spreads his legs some more, purposefully drawing your attention to his pretty cock that still hasn’t softened yet.

Your mind was foggy and pumped full of sex chemicals. You knew you couldn't make a halfway responsible decision in that state. You needed to decompress so you ignore his request altogether. Taking off your panties, you climb up Jungkook's body until you're hovering over his face, your pussy mere inches from his eager tongue. Without any prompting, Jungkook cranes his neck upwards, warm mouth immediately going to work.

He runs his tongue teasingly between your clit and vagina, careful not to touch the areas where you're most sensitive until you tug harshly on his hair, "Jungkook." You warn through gritted teeth.

Smiling insolently, his bunny teeth adding to his aura of mischief, he zeros in on where you want him the most, your clit. Except he only gives it little bunny licks, his tongue poking at it teasingly and his eyes staring up at you playfully. Maybe in another life, a life where you miraculously had Jungkook to call your own and where you could fuck him every day to your heart's content, you might've been able to deal with and maybe even enjoy his teasing, but this wasn't a perfect world. You were starved for the doe-eyed boy with the pretty cock and you simply had no patience for his antics.

You push yourself off of him, snapping, "If you won't eat me out properly then I'll take care of it myself."

Immediately, his hands that were previously clawing at the sheets shoot up to grab your hips and pull you flush against his face. You don't need any sorrys or promises from him as he makes his good intentions clear when he finally gives you what you've been waiting for all this time, and by the looks of it, what he's been waiting for too.

He licks your clit roughly, alternating between swirling his tongue around it and flattening right against it in firm, deliberate strokes until you can't hold up your own weight anymore. Your knees give out and you fall, almost crushing him if it weren't for the punishing grip he had on your hips. Far from getting overwhelmed, he uses your weight to press you further into his mouth, his tongue rapidly flicks between your lips as you hear the hungry licks echo lewdly around your room, your moans soon joining them, "Oh god, Kookie, right there baby. Please whatever you do, don't stop."

You're not the least bit embarrassed to hear the endless stream of whines coming out of your mouth for him. He was giving it to you better than any other man before. Technically, he may not be the best out there, though he was pretty damn close, but he more than made up for it with his sheer enthusiasm. If there was a doubt in your mind that Jungkook wanted you, no needed you, in that moment it was erased forever.

The consuming pleasure causes salty tears to sting your eyes and blur your vision so much so you can't even enjoy the erotic sight of Jungkook between your legs, his big, innocent eyes in an almost obscene contrast to his nimble tongue that did unspeakably sinful things to your pussy so you just close them and let yourself be devoured, one hand clutching onto the headboard and the other buried in Jungkook's hair as you cry out for him in hoarse raptured moans.

His tongue travels down to your hole and thrusts inside of you, making you whimper, "Oh god, almost there baby. Please, just a little bit more."

Since he couldn't use his tongue to stimulate your clit anymore, he puts his big nose to good use, rubbing it against your clit, and you hear muffled chuckles reaching your ears as he feels the way it makes you clench around him. When your orgasm washes over you and your walls begin spasming too strongly for him to keep pumping his tongue inside of you, he quickly goes back to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and flicking it harshly with his tongue, practically dragging you screaming through the devastating orgasm.

Soon, it all became too much for you to handle and you pull away from him. Attempting to sit up on shaky legs, you watch transfixed as a string of saliva and cum connects his tongue to between your legs, but before you can observe the tantalising string as it breaks, Jungkook yanks you back down and licks up your cum hungrily, too addicted to the taste he's been craving for so long to let go.

The tears that have been collecting in your eyes reach their breaking point and start running down your face from the pain of oversensitivity, and Jungkook finally loosens his grip enough for you to throw yourself to the bed, laying by his side as you both gasp for breath. He, of course, regains it much earlier than you do and turn towards you, engulfing you in his arms and rubbing his hard cock against your thighs needily. "Can I fuck you now, noona?"

Despite your poor pussy protesting against it, there is nothing you wished for more at this moment than to just let him put his pretty cock inside of you and fuck you until he tires himself out. Still, the mind-blowing orgasm he just gave you helps your mind clear up a little bit and you regain some of your sensibility. Fighting against your debilitating need for the boy, you groan, "Kookie, we can't.

“Why?” Jungkook asks, irritated. Stubbornly, he runs his hand down your stomach and between your legs, prodding a finger against your entrance before pushing it in easily. "You're still dripping. You want me."

“I do, I really do." You sigh in both pleasure and annoyance as he pumps his finger slowly in and out of you, the tip of it dragging against your walls, searching for that spot that would drive you crazy. You can't believe how fast he can get you horny and ready to go again. "But I can’t take advantage of you like that. You’re going to regret this in the morning, I’m sure of it.”

“I’ve wanted this for years, you think I’m suddenly going to just decide that I don't want you after all?”

“But you’re too young...”

“I knew it!” Jungkook spits at you, turning abrasive again and yanking his finger out of you, making you whimper at the loss. “Well, I’m sorry I’m not your fucking Yoongi-oppa and I’m sorry I’m not like all those other assholes you’ve always loved so much.”

“No, Jungkook, you're misunderstanding me. I’ve never loved them.” You try to hold onto him as he fights to get away, but he’s too strong for you. He pushes you back on the bed and stands up, but before he can leave and the pain and heartache can have their way with you, you shout for him. “I love you!”

He whirls around, on guard and incredulous but with a slight tinge of hope that he wishes didn’t show so clearly on his face, “Don’t play with me now.” He warns.

You fall silent, realizing too late the gravity of what you've just confessed, your mind half convincing you to take it back, but Jungkook latches onto your words and refuses to let them slip by.

“You love me?” Jungkook breathes in disbelief.

“Don’t worry about it, forget I said anything." You squeak, attempting to salvage the unsalvageable. "We're both very tired and confused. Let’s just go to sleep so we won't say something we might regret in the morning.”

“Like hell, I will!” Jungkook shouts, getting back on the bed and cradling your face in his hands. “Tell me the truth, do you really love me?”

'No. No, I don't love you.' That's what you should say. That's the only right thing to say.

“Yes. Is that too bad?”

Jungkook wants to say no, he wants to tell you it’s all he’s been dreaming of since you’d gotten close over the end of last semester. Yeah, he’s always had a crush on you, but it was more physical than anything; wanting what he can’t have, but after he’s gotten to know you, he's desired no one else. He just never dreamed that you would feel the same way, especially since he was so different from the type of men you usually go for.

“You sure don’t act like someone who’s in love.” Jungkook’s lips are pressed into a thin line, his stubbornness and ego kicking in as he tries to hold his emotions back. He can't just fall to your feet the moment you deign to give him a little bit of affection. He'd like to think he isn't that pathetic.

“What did you want me to say? Did you think I’d risk telling you just so you would laugh at my face and call me sick?”

“Are you blind or just stupid? Do you not know how in love with you I am?”

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, Kookie.” You say in a small voice, already feeling in way over your head, and not needing him to encourage you further.

“I love you, noona.” Jungkook sighs, giving in faster than he'd care to admit, and smothers you with kisses as if they would convey his sincerity.

“No,” You say, even as you allow yourself to be swept up in his kisses. And you allow him to keep going as they turn sexual, and he starts laying open-mouthed, hungry kisses all over every exposed inch of your skin. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Frustrated, he presses you into the bed with his body. “Stop telling me what I should say or how I should feel. I’ve been acting like a fool for the past few weeks trying to be someone you would actually like. I’m not going to just let you brush this off when you've finally admitted you like me. Me. I’m not a toy you can play with whenever you feel like it.”

He leans down to kiss you again but this time you meet him halfway, pouring all your emotions and apologies into the kiss before the gears turn in your head and you fully digest the meaning of his words. Suddenly, you pull away, “Pretending to be someone I would like? Is that why you were acting like such an asshole to me?”

You turn from shocked and pissed off to just pissed off as all traces of assertiveness seep away from Jungkook’s body, leaving behind an unsure little boy who’s lost for words, and that's all the answer you need.

“On your hands and knees.”

“What?” Jungkook flinches under your hard gaze.

“Either you get on your hands and knees or you get out. It’s up to you.” You say coldly, leaving no room for discussion. Jungkook springs up to get into position in fear that you would change your mind and decide to kick him out anyway. He feels embarrassment whorl around the pit of his stomach as you lower his sweats down his ass, only to be dispersed by the sharp slap of your hand on the newly exposed skin. You deliver two slaps to each side and then say, “You had me worried half to death over your attitude and now you’re telling me that it was all just play pretend so you could act like some tough guy you think I would like?”

Slap. “You were always a nasty little shit but this really takes the cake.” Slap. “You were out there making me fall for you and getting me all horny like a fucking virgin.” Slap. "Almost giving me a heart attack from the guilt and need.” Slap. "All while you had no fucking clue to what you were doing to me. Acting like a misbehaving brat to get my attention?"

Jungkook was trying to suppress his grunts of pain but little quiet whimpers still reached your ear here and there so you stop. “You don’t have to take this, Jungkook. You can still leave.” You say, smoothing your palms over his red ass and gently massaging it.

“No... It's Ok.” Came his breathy reply that sounded suspiciously like a moan.

"Do you- do you like this, kookie?" The boy doesn't give you a response save shyly dropping his head to the mattress so you reach between his begs to find his dick hot and throbbing. "Baby boy..." You murmur, deciding not to press on in order not to embarrass the young boy any further.

You push his white shirt upward as you pump his cock slowly, bending down to trail a line of kisses down his spine and delighting in the shudder you feel passing through it and into his cock as his sticky cock thrusts into your hand.

“Spread your legs wider. And keep them open.” You instruct, bending down and licking at his balls from behind. He immediately goes against your orders, trying to close them. You sit up, taking your hand off his cock and slapping his sore ass, making him yelp. “I said keep them open. Do you want me to stop?”

Jungkook hurries to open his legs again, “Please don’t.”

Satisfied, you bend down again, tongue teasing his balls from behind and hand wrapped around his waist, tugging firmly on his cock that was leaking precum on your sheets, adding to the mess of bodily fluids that had already ruined them. You can feel Jungkook's thighs shaking, their strength no match to the pleasure coursing through his veins. When -at an upward stroke- your thumb swipes over his engorged head, Jungkook cries out, “Noona, I don’t want to cum on myself again, please.”

You didn't want that as well. Despite how lovely the boy looked messed up all over with his own cum, you needed to have him inside of you right now after he's made his feelings known to you. You flip him on his back easily as he gives you no resistance. Not wasting time, you grab his cock and quickly sit on it, closing your eyes and letting out a sigh of relief as you finally feel it wedged snuggly inside of you.

You must have taken too long enjoying the warmth and stretch because you soon feel Jungkook's hands clawing at your hips and when you open your eyes again, you see him worrying his lips to keep from pleading for you to move. Taking pity on him, you grind your hips in a circle, moaning in contentment as you get a feel of how his cock fits perfectly inside of you.

You gradually increase your pace, starting to lift your hips up and bounce on his cock, and Jungkook decides he doesn't feel like lying down helpless and at your mercy anymore. He starts bucking his hips up, thrusting his cock as far and fast into you as it could go until all that's coming out of your mouth are pleas for more.

"Ah, baby, fuck me just like that. You're gonna make me cum so fast. Won't you be good and make noona cum, baby?"

“You’re so damn spoiled.” He complains, snapping his big hand harshly against your ass. To your shame, instead of berating him, you moan out and clench around him in response.

“You like it, noona?” Jungkook purrs, a shit-eating grin spread across his face as he throws your words back at you. He slaps your ass again more harshly which only causes you to clench around him even more, leaving no room for denial. “Yeah, Kookie, I like it. I like it so much.”

“Fuck yourself on my dick, noona. I want to see you use me to get off.” Jungkook orders, giving you one last spank. You plant your palms on his chest and dig your feet into the mattress, using them as leverage as you bounce erratically on his dick, so close you could taste it in the back of your throat.

"Baby, just a little more, please." Your hand closes over his larger one, trying to drag it towards your pussy but it stays put. "You want it? How much?"

If he thinks you were going to fight him then he better think again. You were needy and on the verge of insanity. "I need it so bad. I'm so horny, just a little touch and I would cum, Kookie."

"Just a little touch, huh?" Jungkook asks, enthralled. He lowers his hand closer to your pussy but only his thumb moves to hover over it. "Liars get punished, you know?"

You nod vigorously, anything to get him to touch you. In all truth, you wouldn’t mind it either way. You'd enjoy anything as long as he touches you. When you still don't feel his fingers on you, you start whining, bouncing impatiently on his cock. "Kookieee, you said-"

You get interrupted when he finally flicks his thumb lazily over your clit, and true to your word, that slight touch is all that it takes for you to cum. "Oh god, Kookie..." You grunt, feeling light-headed as your pussy contracts around his hot and twitching cock, and his fingers dig into your bones.

Without warning, Jungkook pushes you on your back, climbing up your body and pressing the head of his cock against your lips. “Open up.”

In a daze and your orgasm not even over yet, you open your mouth and he shoves himself inside, his dick filling your mouth with cum while your pussy is left neglected and contracting around nothing. You move a hand between your legs and rub yourself furiously, the abandoned orgasm quickly rolling into a new one. You gasp from the sharp spike in pleasure then you close your lips around his head before he can take it out of your mouth, sucking dutifully on it and milking out every last drop of his cum. But before you can spit it out, Jungkook grabs your jaw and forces your mouth closed, “Be a good noona and swallow my cum.”

You don’t know why you are so weak against the boy but you immediately obey, swallowing back the bitterness and opening your mouth again when Jungkook digs his fingers into your cheeks, wanting to make sure that you've listened. Satisfied with your empty mouth, he prods his thumb inside and moans, “I’ve always wanted to do that. Every time you’d yell and shout at me, I’d want nothing other than to pin you down and stuff my cock into your mouth to shut you up till cum and saliva are dribbling down your chin. Man, just thinking about it is making me hard again.”

You frown, pushing the cocky boy away and sitting up. “Hey, just because I agreed to swallow your nasty cum this time doesn’t mean you can talk to me this way.”

"Why? You prefer when I'm all cute and submissive? And you say you won't be with me because I'm young." He snickers, tongue poking out and teasing lewdly along his lips. "I don't mind either way as long as I get to eat you out and fuck you again. Or you fuck me. It's all good."

"You little..." You grab him in a chokehold that he easily brushes off in a fit of giggles, pinning you to the bed and giving your lips a quick peck. "I really do love you, noona. Will you be with me?"

He stares down at you, a timid and fearful look marring his doe eyes as he undoubtedly questions whether what you've told him before was just said in a moment of passion and that you'd take it back now that you've gotten what you wanted. You hurry to ease his worries, "I love you too, Jungkook, and nothing would make me more happy than being with you."

"Even if I'm younger than you?"

"You love me and I love you. That's all that matters, don't you think?" You caress his cheek and watch with a thumping heart as his bunny grin takes up his entire face.

He grabs your hand with his own and moves it towards his mouth, tenderly kissing your palm. "Yeah."

Author’s Note: Feedback is always welcome

#jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfics #noona kink #sub!jungkook #dom!junkook #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfics

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fantroll-purgatory · 6 years

Text

Kilius Koplan

I’ve been saving this boy up.

@ancientvacation usual disclaimer that I don’t have a lot to say besides oooh and ahhhh

Alternian OC

Name:Kilius Koplan - Kilius comes from Achilleus, also known as Achilles, one of the great Greek heroes. It also sounds close to ‘Kleos’, a Greek concept of glory. Koplan is from Adam Copeland, the real name of the wrestler Edge, who’s finishing move is The Spear, the same characteristic weapon of Achilleus.

Also indicates he might have a soft spot somewhere…

Strife Specibus:

grapplekind/2xspearkind - The spear is a common weapon for ancient Greek heroes to use. Furthermore, The Spear was the name of Adam ‘Edge’ Copeland’s finisher. He uses two as to be like a pair of beetle pincers. He mainly uses grapplekind as it’s what he’s trained the most in, but aspires to finally use his ancestor’s spears passed down to him, so he always keeps the card on him as a little bit of motivation.

Fetch Modus:Apronmodus - Kilius stows and fetches things from underneath a curtain-like structure, much like how foreign objects are taken from under a wrestling ring. This means that he can use the underside of his kilt as a kind of hammerspace. It’s very silly.

hlkgjkaerhwr yeah it is! I love it so much.

Blood color:He’s an Indigoblood. The hex I use for his text is #0021bc whereas his blood, symbol and blood-coloured garments are a darker shade. I kinda run with the HC that there are set colours for each blood caste, but individual trolls type darker or lighter than those colours as a personal thing.

I think that tracks especially given that Equius used a markedly different text color than his blood color.

Symbol and meaning:Kilius’ symbol has gone through an evolution. The symbol I used for the longest time was the Hercules constellation, mainly because of it being a heroic figure and tying to him nicely. After the EZ came out, I redesigned a lot of aspects of my trolls, most importantly their symbols. As such, I recreated the Hercules symbol using the sign language of the Indigo caste. If I had to give it a name, I’d use Hercinius. The symbol also resembles a Greek pillar, which is neat.

Oh man yeah I love that.

Trolltag: perfectPankrator - A pankrator is just to describe someone who takes part in pankration, a gladiatorial style of combat where physical attacks with the use of punches and kicks are emphasised. Perfect is just to show Kilius’ ego and ‘better than you’ attitude. Instead of the negative words often found in trolltags, Kilius uses a positive one to stand as some kind of paragon to other trolls, fulfilling more ego-wankery.

Quirk:He replaces [hH] with ’]~[’ as to represent his symbol. Kilius’ ego would certainly lend him to shoehorn his symbol in wherever possible. As for his tone of voice he’s actually pretty verbose, but doesn’t use large words all that much. His kind of verbose is just being able to talk for ages and ages. He has a kind of mental rhythm when he speaks and isn’t averse to using spur of the moment rhymes. This is mainly to evoke the kind of promos popular in pro wrestling as well as thematically fit with the poems of the ancient world.

Design:I wanted to get a good fusion of Ancient Greek aesthetics along with modern professional wrestling outfits. So he wears a singlet, elbow and kneepads, and ring boots to represent the former, and over his singlet, a kilt commonly worn by ancient warriors, and atop his head rests his headband. His hair is meant to be a kind of unkempt curly mass, and his missing tooth is a reference to Chris Benoit, who I recommend not googling because it’s a nice day. The face plaster is mainly meant to exhibit a kind of roughboy demeanour.

“Don’t google it” you say, to a person who definitely googled it and now wishes they didn’t and has to pass the warning on to others. (note: it’s not just a minor thing it’s a major thing and will probably take you to a dark place)

Special Abilities (if any):Winning Smile. (Joking.)

Lusus: A rare lusus, the Bipedal Musclebeetle, named Beeteokles. His species have strong fatherly instincts, and Beeteokles in particular is doing his best to teach Kilius in the ways of the Palaestria, combat, and traditions. Which is impressive considering he has no mouth or discernible way of communication other than Beetle skrees and rhythmic flexing. His picture is a little inaccurate, as he should have the head of a Hercules beetle instead. His relationship to Kilius is meant to evoke the strong presence fathers played in Ancient Greek epics, as mentors and goals for their sons.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. I fucking love this and I have an addition because I’m still playing with the idea that indigobloods have hooved lusii so consider keeping everything the same except to change his lower half to a minotaur bottom. Oh my god I love this beetleman holy shit

Personality: Kilius is a pretty great guy to be honest. He doesn’t hold himself to modern-day hemorelations, instead finding solace in working off the ancient values taught to him by his lusus, more or less. He’s open and friendly to most, if not a little much to digest all at once. He often invites people back to his hive, all even before learning their name or where they came from. This is supposed to tie into the Ancient Greek value of ‘Xenia’, where a person is expected to be a good host to visitors, most of all strangers, and for visitors to behave properly when in a host’s home. This also ties into my interpretation of Kilius as a Knight ‘serving’ others in a sense by being such a good host.

However, Kilius may be friendly but he certainly isn’t a pushover. He’s up for a scrap or brawl often, and getting into arguments with him often results in the other party just letting things slide with how bizarre arguing with Kilius can get. He’s a very physical person, often acting on a whim, with enough cunning and battle training to be able to formulate plans under pressure. He’s also kind of a glory-hound, his acting on a whim for some more prestige often bites him in the ass, not that it dissuades him from trying some more.

He can be irritating to be around, as he can seem like he’s not taking things too seriously or genuinely. If met with someone who actively dislikes him and lets him know, Kilius will take it as an opportunity to gussy it up and make some long poetic speech about the fire of their rivalry or such. Going from his poeticism, that’s also a big part of Kilius. He has a flair for the dramatic, developed from both instincts and the theatrical nature of wrestling. He’s very well-read, so long as they’re either ancient epics or professional wrestling annuals.

Any other ideas or such would be appreciated!

I…I actually have one because you went and named him after goddamn Achilles. This dude could be a classical wrestler by day…and a heel by night! He could especially play up being the big, bad indigoblood beating up on the poor, defenseless lowbloods. He’s got the extra strength at hsi advantage and he plays dirty??? How dare he??? It’s a fun little contrast to his at-home personality and may get him some shit even when he’s out of the ring!

Interests: Wrestling, surprisingly. It’s his main hobby, passion and potential career in the fleet if he works hard enough. His passion for the classical world, which I’m not even gonna begin to try and explain for Alternia, is another major interest of his, specifically heroes and their glorious adventures.

Other than his two core themes, Kilius doesn’t really go for much else. Fitness is important to him, though that’s mainly to get better at wrestling, and epic poetry is more of the classical stuff. Some ideas would be helpful, as whilst his themes are strong and handy, I don’t want him to just be the wrestling and classics troll lol.

Hm.

I mean modern wrestling is commonly called “soap opera for men,” (whether the folks who watch wrestling like that comparison varies lol) and to tie back to both the classical version and the modern one how about he’s into nice-smelling soaps, classical opera, and soap operas? Gives him a little more dimension, and gives him something to do around the house besides watch wrestling.

Title: Remember, different verbiage and +/- skews. I have Kilius as a Knight of Hope, in that he passively serves others Hope. This kinda ties into how I see pro-wrestling, but I feel it works for Kilius even in the mindscape that Knights actively exploit.

This is kinda where I’m struggling honestly, to properly put into words why he’s a Knight of Hope. I’ll give it a shot, but I’d like to keep the classpect. That being said, I’m open for insight or suggestions/modifications to help him better fit this title or another similar one.

Kilius is kinda caught in an interesting quandary with his classpect. On the one hand, he has very strong beliefs that he has complete commitment to and uses them as a positive force in his life. On the other hand, as a Knight he’s being disingenuous in some form thanks to the mask he adopts for others. In the weirdest sense, Kilius’ mask is himself, that is, the idealised version of himself that he aspires to be, and presents himself as through his speech (the third person thing is a sort of showing of this, a trait that would be dropped as he goes through the revelations and lessons of his character.)

His main struggle is that he’s not living up to the idealised vision he’s made for himself. His mask is like a professional wrestling gimmick, Kilius the brave and bold, flexgrappler champion and future immortalised in epic tales of valour and etc etc. Some larger than life figure that he keeps stoking. He’s essentially made his mask some kind of Platonic form, the ultimate greatest version of him. This is why that he seems like he has it made from outside perspectives as he’s friendly, has conviction, goals, a sweet hive, etc etc.

Ugh, I’m really struggling with this honestly. So long I’ve mainly focused on the abilities part of his classpect, which is stuff like ‘serving’ others his faith in pro-wrestling conventions that he forces them to obey to them. I have a whole post on that which I’ll link here. Sorry if this kinda meanders, but Kilius is an older character of mine, and also one very close and dear to me, so I love the bugger.

Honestly I feel like the powers you gave him would work well regardless of whether he’s a Knight or Page? There’s a pretty fine line between the two.

I feel like maybe the “heel” storyline drives that home even further? Because now that conflict rears its head in multiple ways, both with his “Kilius the brave and strong” persona and the “Kilius the evil indigoblood” one. They’re both these really hamfisted attempts to shoehorn himself into a role that maybe doesn’t fit him all that well. And with the added interests I mentioned above, maybe those are things he keeps really private because they don’t mesh with either of those personas.

And I think I can make the argument even under the Knight verbiage CD and I use because this is a case where he’s so immersed in a profession that’s Hope personified that he’s feeling choked! It’s difficult to grow when you spend so much time doing something that requires you to suspend disbelief so much.

Land:Back when he was a Rage player, ‘The Land of Quakes and Kayfabe’, but since he’s Hope, I think I had ‘Rings’ as one of his words. The idea being that there were Hope-y wrestling rings around the planet, and upon entering them some shit happens. I’m not sure on this lol.

Hmmm. What about Land of Faces and Rings? Obviously referring to faces in wrestling, but the aesthetic could be that of Majora’s Mask-style makss that grant the wearer the abilities related to them upon donning one.

That’s the consort mythology, of course; it’s not actually real. Until Kilius believes it is.

Lots and lots of tournaments, with the promise that upon completing the necessary fights he will be able to reach his denizen. But that’s nonsense! Wrestling goes on forever and plotlines rarely have a conclusion! Kilius needs to will himself to the denizen if he wants to reach them.

Dream Planet:I think Prospit may be a given. Despite his struggles with his heroic fantasies, he IS very get-go and take-charge generally.

D/Ancestor: Kilius’ dancestor is Turnus Koplan. Whilst Kilius represents the Greek ideal of a hero, cunning, individual, glory-seeking, Turnus represents the Roman ideal a little more, in that he’s direct, professional and looks to the group more. That boy is here. Kilius’ ancestor was a great hero, aptly titled as 'The ]~[eroic’ (I love quirk-y ancestor titles). Upon a fall from grace, and enslavement into the gladiatorial rings, he quickly became known under a new name, 'The Crippler’, another reference to Chris Benoit.

Love this dude.

All in all, Kilius is a very special and sentimental fantroll for me, and one that despite working on a lot of stuff for him, hasn’t had much in the way of deeper personality or narrative arc developed. He’s mainly been used for roleplay, which doesn’t exactly support SBURB arcs. Plus I’m a very improvisational person in those types of settings, meaning I can often just roll with random info or ideas for Kilius without thinking about it. Hope you enjoy this boy!

i did! And tbh I think he’s basically good to go? I can’t even think of any redesign suggestions for him.

Thanks for sending him in. I hope the few extra details I provided can help!

#ancientvacation #kilius koplan #kilius #koplan #indigoblood #review #tr review #submission

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mr-gooseyshoes · 6 years

Photo

(ASKS ARE OPEN!!! Version 1.1. The original should be referred to as ‘Version 1.0’. Full size of the regular version [3000x1000] in my Sta.sh!

Feel free to ask these guys questions! Or maybe roleplay with any of them. I have enough spare time for both! 😊

Anything with an asterisk is IRL or other matters involving the character.

‘COO’ stands for ‘country of origin’, ‘COR’ stands for ‘country of residence’.)

Info on each character, prepare for a long read.

🍰 Mr. Gooseyshoes 🎸

Full name: Yvan August Gooseyshoes (Originally nameless, then titled ‘Clumsy One’, then was eventually given his current name.)

Species: Humanoid toon

Height: 4'4 ft

Est. age: Mid-late 20s / Canonical birthday: August 31st / ‘Creation date’: Same day, 1931

COO: France 🇫🇷

COR: United States 🇺🇸

True origin*: (When I decided to play around with my Robloxian’s look, I made the limbs and torso different colors: left arm green, right arm red, torso blue, left leg white, right leg black. At the time, I couldn’t easily determine his gender, but he was undoubtedly male-presenting. This dated back between 2013 and -15, possibly making him the ‘youngest’ member.)

Beginning: Starting off in black & white comics translated from French, Yvan was a mischievous slapstick character with a lack of common sense. He had companions; his cousin Kenneth (can also be called ‘Ken’ or ‘Kenny’), and a rogue clown named Barry. He was the clumsiest of all, and was (and still is!) known to swing large items around, knocking the other two over; this lead to a fight, but they made up later.

(cont.) Despite the antics and mean-spirited remarks the two made at strangers without him, Yvan mostly stuck to jokes and harmless pranks…when he’s not accidentally being hit in the face with planks and canes. There were even colored animated shorts of the three, a series which only lasted a couple of years due to budget problems; the three went their separate ways, until meeting again decades later.

📖 Ollie 🎶

Full name: Oliviero Percy Rigatoni (Originally just ‘Oliviero’)

Species: Humanoid toon

Height: 4'3 ft

Est. age: Mid-late 20s / Canonical birthday: September 18th / ‘Creation date’: Same day, 1971

COO: Italy 🇮🇹

COR: United States 🇺🇸

True origin*: (I drew a picture of a man with blue skin and reddish-pink eyes, somewhat like the current design. The only things that haven’t changed are his hair and eyes. This estimates back to 2011.)

Beginning: N/A (TFW you’re too mentally exhausted to continue writing stories about your own characters. Don’t worry, I’ll get to it!)

⛪ Doug the Dog 🎼

Full name: Douglas Noah Beagle

Species: Anthro dog toon

Height: 3'2 ft

Est. age: Early 30s / Canonical birthday: May 21st / ‘Creation date’: Same day, 1994

COO: United States 🇺🇸

COR: See ‘COO’

True origin*: (In this universe, he’s a toon; but in the real world? He’s an arts & crafts sockpuppet from my old church, hence why I gave him a cross and halo. He doesn’t have his ears, but the hair is there. I also based the sweater off his sock design, making the brown a little darker so it didn’t look weird. Est. 2004-5, making him the ‘oldest’.)

Beginning: There was a drop of Christian faith in the neighborhood. A local church had lost a lot of members over the years, the lack of interest among youth causing too many seats to go unfilled. Thanks to 3 of the churchgoers having a knack for drawing; they passed around ideas back and forth until eventually settling with Doug and his family; his father Harry, his uncle Rufus, and eventually, Roxanne in “Episode 10: Someone I Know Isn’t A Christian. What Do I Do?”. They already had their own website, and Flash animation was all the rage at the time!

(cont.) Was it easy? Not really. But Doug did have fans, even receiving letters from a few of them straight to the church nearly daily. The makers received a lot of attention across the web, the cartoon dog being loved for several different reasons; his important life lessons, his adorable appearance, his kindness, and his relatable nature. Some news: As all 3 animators started raising families of their own, the responsibility of running the series went to younger members so that the original ones could spend time with their kids. (A lot of time passed since 1994. They were 14, 15 and 16 upon starting; the 9 new members are all between 15 and 30.)

📼 Troy ⚽

Full name: Troy Nate Donaldson

Species: Cyclops-esque toon

Height: 3'10 ft

Est. age: 13 years 🔞 / Canonical birthday: December 9th / ‘Creation date’: Same day, 1979 (First televised 1985. Seems he’s been a youngin for an awfully long time…)

COO: United States 🇺🇸

COR: See ‘COO’

True origin*: (Like Ollie, he started off as a drawing; I even drew him with a tornado for a mouth once. The only differences being that I gave him longer hair up front, and a wardrobe unlike his original one.)

Beginning: Two brothers had a great idea for a show; animated figures cross into the real world via portal, walking into the backyard of a human kid named Jesse. Troy would be seen exploring elements foreign to him; such as ladybugs, soccer balls, and the grass being green. Because of time limits, Troy was never given a mouth outside of concept art, which meant not worrying about lip syncing when they had other things to do.

(cont.) Jesse taught Troy how to play 1-on-1 soccer, then taught him how to spell larger words such as ‘dictionary’ and ‘encyclopedia’. The show also had montages of Jesse chasing after the one-eyed people (including Troy), which was a running gag involving disguises and leaving messes behind. The show ended in 1990, 5 years after its first episode, as there was no more of the story to tell. To this day, he is still a child by choice.

📚 Mrs. Donaldson 🍇

Full name: Athena Jessica Donaldson

Species: Cyclops-esque toon

Height: 5'2 ft

Est. age: Mid-to-late 30s / Canonical birthday: April 15th / ‘Creation date’: December 12th, 1979 (First televised 1985.)

COO: United States 🇺🇸

COR: See ‘COO’

True origin*: (I thought of a beautiful cyclops-looking woman. Smart, too. She just popped up into my brain while drawing some art.)

Beginning: Before becoming an art teacher, Mrs. Donaldson was a guardian of her hometown (in our world, that’s like being a cop), making sure no one suffered as a result of crime. One day, she felt that Troy needed to be educated about alternate dimensions, which led her to take him to a vastly different version of America; or more specifically, a human family’s backyard in Tennessee. While the location was random, the weather was just right. Unfortunately, the portal was open for too long, a bunch of Troy and Athena’s people ran out from it with joy, then it closed behind them indefinitely. Due to the fuel inside of the portal wand being extremely hard to find in this dimension, they were gonna be stuck here for a while.

(cont.) They were not ones to panic so quickly; instead, they sought out knowledge and resources from this different Earth. She played the role of protecting these people before, and would gladly do it again. Athena did not star in as many episodes as her son did, her count being 283 out of 294. She also taught morals when not teaching the basics of art, ranging from honesty to sharing. Parents complained about her old outfit, so the brothers had to put her in what she wears now to avoid being cancelled before wrapping things up.

💷 Ken 🚬

Full name: Kenneth Joseph Cross

Species: Humanoid toon

Height: 4'3.5 ft

Est. age: Early-to-mid 20s / Canonical birthday: March 4th / ‘Creation date’: August 31st, 19??

COO: United Kingdom 🇬🇧 (Made by a Frenchman, though.)

COR: See ‘COO’ (Sometimes goes to America, but only to visit relatives.)

True origin*: (Okay, so I thought ‘Why not draw a guy with a large grin/frown?’ I sometimes pictured him in black & white stripes as well, but maybe I’ll use that kind of design for his pre-color days.)

Beginning: N/A

🎭 “Barry The Buffoon” 🔨

Full name: Fionnbharr Patrick Emmett (Originally nameless, then only titled as “The Buffoon”, then was eventually given his current name.)

Species: Humanoid toon

Height: 4'1 ft

Est. age: Mid-to-late 30s / Canonical birthday: May 6th / ‘Creation date’: August 31st, 1931

COO: Scotland (Made by a Frenchman, though. No Scottish flag emoji? Boo. ;n;)

COR: See ‘COO’

True origin*: (I was inspired from watching some cartoon shorts from the 20s and 30s, mainly B&W ones. Plus, I wanted to give this random clown a meaningful role.)

Beginning: N/A

🍮 Buford 🐕

Full name: Sir Buford of Birmingham XIV (the 14th)

Species: Quadruped dog toon

Height: 1'3 ft

Est. age: Bet. 1-5 years / Canonical birthday: September 1st / ‘Creation date’: January 29th, 2003

COO: England 🇬🇧

COR: United States 🇺🇸

True origin*: (I imagined Yvan having a talking dog who truly loved his master, making sure he was happy and healthy. I hope he actually looks like a Scottish terrier, or at least some kind of terrier breed/mix.)

Beginning: Sir Buford was one of the secondary antagonists of a show called “Canines Out Of Line", an ongoing series about bipedal dogs breaking the law, spending money carelessly, and doing things I shouldn’t mention. (equivalent rating of TV-14) Buford was a dog that gained the ability to speak by accidentally eating a dog treat, which his then-owner pulled out of a strange beaker containing unnamed chemicals. It was meant to be thrown out, but Dr. Mecha (no medical degree) wasn’t fast enough. She marvelled at how her pet (at the time) started talking like an Englishman, taking notes on his newfound vocal abilities.

(cont.) Sadly, when word spread around the neighborhood about a talking dog, the COOL blew up Dr. Mecha’s lab and tried to force Buford to join; he refused, and was held hostage. He fought them off, escaped back to his home, and came back to see the female scientist who cared for him still alive, making it a happy-ish ending. Despite that, things only got darker from there. From the start, he was determined to bring C.O.O.L. down, one way or another.

More characters coming soon?

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gregoryandrew1991 · 4 years

Text

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What Do Reiki Practitioners Feel

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What To Do Before Giving Reiki

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#Reiki Crystal Products.com Marvelous Tips #Reiki Vs Christianity

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butteryscience · 6 years

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A Day in the Life of an Athenian

Journal of Euthicles, Athens

Entry 1: ACL 5 Hekatombaion, Ol. Praxiergus

Arrived at the agora early, hauling wine and olives to trade for some copper and tin. There is some talk about war between the poleis, which poleis are involved I do not know. I have heard Sparta to Thebes to any and all, made no matter who. I needed to purchase copper and tin to get a new helmet. My friend, Saphoraion, took a blow in the last battle against the Persians and his helmet is the reason he is still making pottery, teaching his son the ways of Athens, and pestering his wife. There has been peace since then, so I assumed I would not have to fight again, but that does not seem to be the case.

The metals I looked for usually came from Phoenician traders out of the west, so I headed to the barbarian section of the agora. Along the way, I traded for some wheat, and I stopped in front of the Altar of the 12 Gods and made a quick offering to Hermes, may he grant me skill in negotiation. Reached the Phoenician metal traders before midday. The long skirts of the Phoenicians in front of me were laced with gold, accenting their dark hair and eyes tastefully (9).

Entry 2: ACL 5 Hekatombaion, Ol. Praxiergus

The copper merchants were friendly but negotiated fiercely, they seemed to place a high value on trading and commerce over more noble pursuits. We Hellenes value art, philosophy, politics, and notably warfare as well as trade. Such is my goal in acquiring the materials for my new helm. I held my own over the commercial battlefield, eventually haggling down to a crate of olives for the copper I need. After the deal was done and my copper packed into the cart I asked the two copper sellers about the goings-on from around the Great Sea (Mediterranean Sea). Apparently, Naxos is threatening to leave the Delian League (1.) and some more Hellenic colonies are being founded in Southern Italia. I do not understand why anyone would want to leave one of the polis, they are the most excellent civilizations on Earth. Or why Naxos would leave the Delian League, the most noble alliance since Zeus’s pantheon, the Spartans are brutes with little appreciation for the virtues of freedom. Wonder what will come of these developments (14).

I thanked the Phoenician merchants for the information and they said that another Phoenician ship from far away would be arriving tomorrow. I left the agora, stopped by the Altar again on the way back home, thanking Hermes and asking for wisdom from Athena for the Archon in dealing with Naxos.

Entry 3: ACL 6 Hekatombaion, Ol. Praxiergus

Woke up this morning eager to deliver the materials for my helmet to the smith, the news about Naxos has been troubling me, better get my armor ready as soon as I can. First, I spend some time with my son, training him on the doru, before his lessons at the palaestra (13 and 15).

I arrived at the agora early and caught sight of the Phoenicians goods traveling to the market. The tin traders were even more richly dressed and bearded than their copper trader counterparts (2). They wore elegant collars and simple bracelets. Their fashion actually reminded me of some Egyptian traders that I saw in the agora a few archons past (3 and 4). The tin trade must be lucrative.

I had save my good wine to trade for the tin today, so the traders and I found an agreement fairly quickly. They tried to get more wine for the price by bringing out a slave of theirs with fair hair and skin. He looked strange and out of place among the brown Phoenicians, but the tin merchants told me that he was from the island where they acquired the tin. I asked them afterwards where that was. They smiled cleverly and merely said “far west and north, where the sun is dimmer” (comes from the idea that winter is harsher and overcast and rain is common on the British Isles), I could tell they were being purposefully vague, so I asked what this place was called. They called them the Tin Islands or Cassiterides (Herodotus), the slave perked up when he heard this name, but stayed silent (5).

I thanked the Phoenicians, packed up my purchases, and headed to the smith. I delivered the materials and the payment to the smith and approved the standard design of the helmet. I went home and spoke to my wife about the day. I shall sleep well tonight.

Entry 4: ACL 28 Hekatombaion, Ol. Praxiergus

The Athenian fleet has set sail for Naxos, carrying the fate of Naxos with it. I took my son to see the naútēs (sailors) off (14). I told him that these were brave men upholding the might and virtue of Athens, he must know this if he is to be a citizen of Athens one day. Next, I took him to the Parthenon atop the Acropolis to visit the goddess of Athena and ask for the fleet to have wisdom in strategy and battle. On the way up I told my son to always honor the gods when making a decision or engaging in big events and the gods will see that he is successful.

Inside the temple, I could see my son perk up and grow a little taller. We walked to the magnificent statue of Athena. My son looked in awe at the stunning white and gold statue of the goddess of wisdom. He was silent for a moment before asking why Athena did not look like a normal Greek, “why is she so pale?”. I thought for a moment and answered: “Because she is a goddess, why would she look like a normal human?”. My son looked disappointed at this answer, so I leaned close to him and whispered, “and probably she looks that way because the artist liked these colors on his statue over other colors.” My son smiled a little, like he was in on the secret with the artist, looked at Athena one last time and turned away. I think my son will remember today (12).

Commentary

The preceding entries all focus on an Athenian citizen who believes in Athenian greatness and in the values and qualities of his society. Each entry covers a particular aspect of the ancient world that a person in the Mediterranean or Aegean Seas would encounter. The man is more well off than most Athenians. However, this financial security means nothing in the heat of battle when a stray javelin or spear may find your flesh, so he is investing in the materials for an armor upgrade. Greek hoplites had to provide their own equipment for battle and it was seen as a civic duty to battle for your city-states glory. The battle where the man’s friend took a blow is the Battle of Plataea, the final land battle of the Persian invasion of Greece in 479 BCE, only about 6 years from the time of the entries. The sources for these entries include websites referencing trade in Ancient Greece and Greek warfare.

The man goes to Phoenician merchants for the raw materials that the blacksmith would use to create bronze: copper and tin. Tin specifically was found in the British Isles, or what Herodotus called the Cassiterides or the Tin Islands, even though he believed the islands to be a myth. The Phoenician's trade network spanned most of the Mediterranean, and they may have also travelled to the British Isles and Ireland. The information about their voyages to Northern Europe comes from late, and not necessarlily reliable, Roman sources(https://phoenicia.org/himilco.html; https://gatesofnineveh.wordpress.com/2011/12/13/high-north-carthaginian-exploration-of-ireland/) It is, however, a well-established fact that tin came to the Mediterranean from the British Isles. I used dramatic license to allow the Phoenician traders to havea slave from Northern Europe. Herodotus describes the people that he calls Budini who live somewhere in Eastern Europe. He explains that the Budini have blue eyes and ruddish hair, and thus they look different from the Greek colonists living in the same area (Book IV, 108-9, see http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus:text:1999.04.0064:entry=budini-geo) Recent research of the ancient Greek DNA suggests that Ancient Greeks looked similar to modern Greek, who are generally dark-eyed and dark-haired (http://www.sciencemag.org/news/2017/08/greeks-really-do-have-near-mythical-origins-ancient-dna-reveals ) The description of the dress Phoenicians traders is sourced from a late nineteenth century French classicist and archaeologist, so this information is dated.

In the year of Praxiergus, or 470-471 BCE the island of Naxos attempted to leave the Delian League, causing the Athenians to respond with naval force. The source for this was a book by Peter Brand on Sparta and Athens. I set this as the backdrop of the scene where the man visits the Parthenon even though the Parthenon was not finished until 432 BCE. The statue of Athena in the Parthenon is a magnificent gold and ivory statue that showed off the god's splendour to the Athenians. The statue’s surface is much lighter than traditional Greek skin tones, and I wanted the son to question his father on the reason for this. The source for the statue is the ancient Greek historian Pausanias circa 200 AD.

Each entry represented a part of Athenian or Greek life that a citizen might experience and shows the attitude of the Greeks to their surroundings.

Journal of Olorus, Olympia

After travelling to Olympia, we have finally arrived at the festival. My son and I were at the events all day taking in all the sights. At one point a crowd begin gathering in the amphitheater and a man came on stage. My son pulled me into one of the seats and the man began to speak. He told of the war with the Persians and our great triumph (my son especially loved this part), he told of the many peoples of the world from the Scythians in the north and their eyes the color of the sky and the lessons of the slave war, to the black (chroma de melanas) Ethiopians in the south. A rather embarrassing moment came when the man told of far off lands and my son burst into tears in front of the whole assembly. My son was rather proud though, when the man responded to my son’s tears by telling me that “your son’s soul yearns for knowledge” (6). Afterward my son told me he wants to become a scholar like the man. My son, Thucydides, will make a great scholar if he refrains from sudden bouts of emotion.

Commentary

This is an actual story told in Byzantine tales of the Ancient Greece called the Photius Bibliothec about how Thucydides went to a telling by Herodotus of his histories, where a young Thucydides broke down and Herodotus responded in the manner told in the entry. However, the original Byzantine story is not very reliableand is not sourced well. Olorus is supposedly the name of the father of Thucydides as well as the name of a famous Thracian king (6). “Ethiopia” was the Greek name for the area south of Egypt, and they often used it for the kingdom of Nubia (also known as Kush). For Herodotus's account of the Ethiopians, or Nubians, see http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/nebrowser?id=tgn,7000489&query=Perseus:text:1999.01.0126

For the Scythian war with their slaves, see, http://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Hdt.%204.1&lang=original Herodotus and other ancient authors described the way different peoples looked, but they did not have the concept of race (http://maximum-cat-entropy.tumblr.com/post/168023302098/ancient-greeks-and-race-herodotus)

Journal of Male, Farmer, Wartime

The war forced me from my daily life of tending to my fields; for in fearing for my life, I had to take refuge in the crowded city with those who are defenseless like me. Disappointment flooded my being as when I returned home from the safety of the city, for everything in my name was destroyed by Spartan hands. However, I must thank the gods for my good fortune compared to others; those who do not have homes are forced to live in god-forsaken places within the city, where privacy and cleanliness have come to naught. If time continues this way, I fear for my ruin, as my fields are my source of survival. War has not only disrupted my life, but other families as well. Women whose husbands have died at war are now forced to find lowly jobs, as opposed to the lives used to consist of solely weaving and bearing children. Those who once supervised slaves have almost becomes slaves themselves.

Source: The History of the Peloponnesian War, Thucydides, Book 5

Athenian Soldier present at the Melian Dialogue

Entry 1: Wartime has caused Athens to consider making the strategic takeover of the Melos. Their island is a crucial location for the triremes to resupply and reorganize, for they do not have the capability of carrying long-term supplies that the men need to stay strong and steadfast. We were instructed to accompany ambassadors to speak with the Melian councilmen, for they were steadfast in their convictions that they would like peace. They pleaded with the Athenian men sent that they were too descendants of the Lacedaemonians, and to consider them equals, but this was to no avail, for our men stated they would only consider those who were equal in power their equals. As this discussion ended in a stalemate, we returned to our camp and await further instructions.

Winter After:

Entry 2: I am saddened by the turn of events that has occurred. At first the Melians were adamant in their ways that the Lacedaemonians would come to save them from their fate of takeover by our men. However, as time closed in, and our armies came back to besiege the Melians, some broke in their steadfastness, and surrendered. However, I do not believe that anyone could have anticipated the only other ending that would occur today would be of their lives.We were instructed to have no mercy upon them, and no Melian walked away free. Melian men were left with not a measure of life left in them, and I can still hear the screams of the women and children as they watched their men as they were subjected to this horror. I pray to the gods that I will always be spared a life of hardship these women and children will to be subjected to.

Commentary

The preceding entries reflect that of an individual who is a soldier, and ends at Thucydides’ dramatization of the Siege of Melos, reflecting his Melian Dialogue. Thucydides played a large role in documenting the history of the Peloponnesian War; these entries are an alternative means of presenting his information.

Sources

Brand, Peter J. Athens & Sparta: Democracy vs. Dictatorship.

Perrot et Chipiez, pp. 519, 523, &c.

Ibid. pp. 531, 533; Di Cesnola, pp. 129, 131, &c.

Perrot et Chipiez, pp. 527, 533, 539; Di Cesnola, pp. 129, 145, 154.

https://gatesofnineveh.wordpress.com/2011/12/13/high-north-carthaginian-exploration-of-ireland/

Photius Bibliothec. Cod. lx p 59, cited by Rawlinson (1859), p. 15

https://www.ancient.eu/article/833/the-athenian-calendar/

socrates.clarke.edu

https://www.ancient.eu/article/115/trade-in-ancient-greece/

http://www.phoenician.org/phoenicians.htm

http://classics.mit.edu/Thucydides/pelopwar.html

https://www.ancient.eu/article/785/athena-parthenos-by-phidias/

https://weaponsandwarfare.com/2015/08/06/armament-and-fighting-style-greek-vs-persian/

Brand, Peter J. Athens & Sparta: Democracy vs. Dictatorship.

https://www.britannica.com/topic/education/Athens

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minimoll7 · 7 years

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Aaaayyyy so I found a post where someone shared their top 20 favorites and I decided I wanted to make my own to xD I made this template myself and I have a blank one (tho without text at all, I can input the “Top 20 Favorite Shows” if anyone wants me to). If you wanna do your own with my template, just shoot me an ask or PM!

Hit the read more if you really want to know my opinions on each. I suck at summarizing so it is a bit of a read, sorry about that heh

20) American Dragon: Jake Long - I thought this was the coolest show when I was a kid and I would always try to watch it whenever possible. Tho, while its not as cool now to me as it was back then, I still love this show and its characters

19) Milo Murphy’s Law - As soon as I saw the first ep, I just knew I was going to love this show. I’m a bit behind as of now but I cannot wait for new episodes! This show has a lot of charm and great characters, not to mention catchy songs!

18) Code Lyoko - I absolutely adored this show as a kid and it still holds up as a big fav now. The whole idea of going into a virtual world really fascinated me as a kid. I mean yeah sure Digimon had that to, but I was never really lucky in catching it on TV. Plus, the idea of the virtual world being animated in 3D while the real world was in 2D? Sign me up!

17) Xiaolin Showdown - Another show that I adored as kid and still do now. The characters and animations really made this show for me. I love how they all react with each other and some of the expressions it had to offer are top notch. And let me tell ya, this show has probably one of the funniest villains out there, Jack Spicer. He cracked me as a kid and no matter how times I rewatch the series, he still cracks me up

16) SWAT Kats: The Radical Squadron - I never grew up with this show but I had just recently finished watching it for the first time. The animation for this show, especially at the time, feels amazing and it really does have this nice 90s feel to it. The show itself is really fun to watch and I am a suckers for cats and cool aircrafts. The SWAT Kats’s Turbokat is almost just as cool as an Arwing! I find the characters to be really likable and while I do question some of the designs for the female characters, I overall just really enjoyed them all

15) The Adventures of Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius - Jimmy himself was a huge part of my childhood and it still saddens me that his show doesn’t air on TV anymore. The characters are incredibly memorable to me, especially Sheen. The humor in this show never fails to get me to laugh and I always loved the interactions between a good chunk of the characters

14) Wander Over Yonder - I fell in love with this show after just watching a few episodes. The characters are well-written and the art is jaw-dropping, well, to me at least heh. The show itself is generally very sweet and the humor is great as well! I also adore the fact that Wander himself is always willing to help and its always kind to others. He’s a protagonist that we all need in our lives. Hopefully, we’ll get a season 3 someday

13) Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja - Love puns? Love action? Love ninjas? Well, this show is definitely for you (maybe). This show has a lot of cheesy jokes and puns, which is something I can appreciate. Puns are always an easy win for me haha The characters themselves to I find to be really likable, especially the main protagonists, Randy and Howard. The villains to are really entertaining as well. The animation for the show can be pretty awesome at times and its a shame that nobody talks about it

12) Fullmetal Alchemist (Brotherhood) - Despite my distaste for blood and guts kind of violence, I couldn’t help myself from watching this anime. The story was amazing in every sense of the word. I’ve never watched anything before that has played with every single emotion I have (and I’m emotional to so that’s saying a lot I suppose haha). The characters and their development was well done as well. I highly recommend this show to anyone who hasn’t seen it (and can stomach the violence)

11) Avatar: The Last Airbender (and by extension, Legend of Korra) - I’m a complete sucker for elemental stuff, which is probably my favorite aspect of this show. Watching the characters fight each other with an element is pure entertainment for me. And speaking of entertainment, the humor. My goodness, this show wasn’t just action-packed, but also hilarious. The character development to is astounding and I’m sure we know just how well-written Zuko’s arc was (like damn son, it felt like a real experience almost). Another show I highly recommend to anyone, along with its sequel series

10) My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic - I remember just how shocked I was when I watched the first episode and found myself loving it. I was never expecting a girly show like this to be as good as it is (and don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with a cartoon being girly, I just expected to be aimed for little little kids). I adore the animation, the characters, the story (when its present) and the lessons that each episode teaches. This show will never stop being entertaining to me, no matter what anyone else has to say

9) Animaniacs - I would’ve rated this show higher but I had to consider every segment the show has, not just personal favorites. Despite that, tho, I absolutely adore this cartoon. I didn’t grow up with it, but I first found it about 5 years ago and have loved it since then. While there are some segments that I strongly dislike, the ones I do love are completely worth it. Buttons & Mindy, Rita & Runt, Slappy Squirrel and the Warners made this show for me and I love them all (especially the brothers ha). The humor is some of the best I’ve seen in cartoons to

8) Over the Garden Wall - This miniseries captured my heart almost instantly. The animation, the story, the characters, I just can’t really hate anything from this show. I love how scary and unsettling the characters can be but yet there’s always a simple reason behind them (well, not always lol). And Greg, like come on, how can you hate this kid. True, he was annoying every now and then, but his innocence and his “words of wisdom” just makes him really likable, to me at least. I can rewatch this show over and over and I can never be tired of it

7) Ed, Edd ‘n Eddy - Whenever I think of cartoons, this one is usually the first to come to mind. This was one of my big favorites as a kid and its still one now. The humor in this show is great and its a gift whenever Ed speaks. And there’s just something special about how the entire show was animated and I can never truly put it into words on just how much I love it. Ed, Edd ‘n Eddy is just one of those where I can’t really explain why I enjoy it so much, but trust me, if you haven’t seen it, its well worth your time (and it also has a really catchy theme song)

6) Pokemon - And by Pokemon, I mean the entire series, not just a specific arc or two. Before I was even into the games or just the Pokemon themselves, I enjoyed watching the anime even as a little kid. The anime is really the only reason why I got into the games in the first place. I know the series can be repetitive, some arcs more than others, but I just can’t stay away. I love Ash, Brock, Misty, Dawn, Serena, Clement, Team Rocket and etc. The slapstick humor in the original season is probably the best of this show’s humor but as the years went on, the battles have become better and better and I just love that. I just love Pokemon and no matter what people say about the anime, I still enjoy it to this day!

5) Watership Down - I would have never imagined liking this show as much I do. I mean true, I’m a sucker for rabbits, but I wasn’t sure if this show was truly great or not, but hey its at number 5, its obviously great! Yeah, the animation and some of the voice acting is quite lacking and the design and voice change in season 3 was hard to adjust to, but the story and characters are well worth it. Its definitely one those gems that don’t get a lot of attention, I highly recommend this show!

4) Generator Rex - Similar to Watership Down, I went in not expecting to love it as much as I do now. I knew the show was going to be great, but boy do I love it or what. Like dudes, this show is incredibly underrated. The whole concept with the nanites and E.V.O.s are just insanely cool. It also had a crossover episode with Ben 10 which was an awesome episode to say the least (also Ben merged with Rex in his Upgrade form and it was freaking sick). Like seriously, if I were to try to explain why I love this show so much, we’d be here for a while. Just please, watch this show if it interests you

3) The Amazing World of Gumball - I fell in love with this show upon seeing the first episode and by that I mean I became obsessed. I love everything about this show. The characters, animation, humor, the references, designs, just everything! And seriously, if there’s any kind of animation I had favored the most from a cartoon, its this one. I adore this show so much and I literally cannot wait for the next episode. It sucks that more story related shows, like Steven Universe and Star vs the Forces of Evil (both of which are still great, don’t get me wrong), takes all the attention away from this one. Its sort of underrated in that sense but seriously trust me, everything about this show is completely worth it. I highly, HIGHLY, recommend this one

2) Teen Titans - Aaahh Teen Titans, was obsessed with it as a kid and I still am now (to bad its hard to find stuff to reblog bleh). This is just one of those shows were I can’t explain why I love it as much as I do. I mean, I know I’ve repeatedly said this (because I’m actually bad explaining why I like things and tend to reuse the same sentences over and over oops) but like, I simply adore the characters and the stories. While Starfire lacked some good character development, the rest of the characters really grows and it never gets boring watching their arcs over and over. Like, I don’t know why I can never bored of this show, but I can’t. I just love it to much (and it also has one of the best theme songs ever)

1) Fairly OddParents - No no no, not the newer seasons. The older seasons! This show was my jam back as a kid and surprise surprise, its still my jam now. Excluding shows meant for toddlers, this was the first cartoon I ever got into (probably, it could’ve been SpongeBob or Looney Tunes but I kind of doubt it). This show means more to me than I could ever say. This show sparked an interest for animation and helped really get me into drawing. I was always interesting in drawing, but this show was what pushed me to keep going. It was also the first show I ever drew fan art for. I remember drawing Timmy and Cosmo almost nonstop for a year there, back when I was 2nd grade and finally taught myself how to draw them. I remember making comics with these characters, sharing and reenacting jokes with friends, never shutting up about it aahhh and come on, well all remember the Jimmy Timmy Power Hours, that crossover was legit the coolest one for me. This show is incredibly important to me and despite the direction the show has gone now, it’ll forever remain as my favorite show <3

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euphorichords · 7 years

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Ultimate Top Twelve Avatar: The Last Airbender Episodes

WARNING: SPOILERS

12. The Waterbending Scroll S1E9

I have always loved this one, but mostly because I ship Zuko and Katara. Either way, this episode intrigues me because Katara does something that she deplores: stealing. She steals a water bending scroll and ends up putting the gang in a dangerous situation with some pirates, who then team up with Prince Zuko to terrorize the gang. Overall it’s a very entertaining episode.

11. The Warriors of Kyoshi S1E4

This episode tackles a lot of issues all in one. Specifically, it’s a pivotal moment in the entire series as it establishes a point of reference for the rest of the series. Sokka meets Suki and learns an important lesson in humility, Aang encounters fangirls for the first (and not the last) time, Katara deals with jealousy (and establishes an overarching personality), and Aang rides a giant eel-dragon monster. It’s a pretty great girl-power episode.

10. The Swamp S2E4

In this episode, the group experiences the divine intervention of the spirits. They are pulled down into the swamp by force and later separated. I’ve always loved the scene where they’re all hallucinating and chasing after specters because it speaks to each character’s inner feelings. Katara sees her mother, whom she misses very much. Sokka sees Yue, his first love who became the moon spirit. Aang sees a person he’s never met. They meet a man who lives with a tribe of water benders in the swamp, and this man gives the avatar some advice which Aang will later use again, that everything is connected in life.

9. The Library S2E4

This scene makes the list because of the vastness of the design. This world has endless possibilities, making every episode more and more incredible. The gang discovers a lost library of immense knowledge buried in the desert. The library is guarded by a dangerous spirit of knowledge, who appears as a large owl. He allows the gang to peruse his library as they wish, but they nearly don’t escape, as this spirit has some very negative opinions about humans.

8. The Guru/Crossroads of Destiny S2E18

Aang is a spiritual prodigy, that much can be seen from any other episode. This episode specifically, though, is focused on Aang’s formal teaching regarding chakras. The guru that Aang meets is very knowledgeable (and has a repoire with Appa, too) and encourages Aang to unlock each of his chakras in order to better control his transitions between his normal state and the Avatar state. Unfortunately, Aang has difficulty unlocking the final chakra, as he must let go of his love for Katara. He leaves without unlocking it and is blocked from the avatar state altogether. Further, this episode is pivotal in the relationship between Iroh and Zuko. The end of this episode marks a very powerful decision made by Zuko to betray his uncle, something he will later regret.

7. Tales of Ba Sing Se S2E14

Although this episode does function as a filler episode, it is anything but useless. Each storyline adds to the dynamism of the characters. My personal favorite is that of Iroh. Iroh is by far one of my favorite characters, and his “tale” is also the saddest, as Iroh is celebrating his late son’s birthday. On this day he vows to help every person he meets, and it ends with him singing a mournful song in front of a picture of his son. I cry every time.

6. Sokka’s Master S3E4

Sokka is a non-bender and that follows him through his life all the time. Often, non-benders can feel left out from the bending world, and for good reason. Sokka is encouraged by the rest of the gang to go get professional sword training, and boy is that rewarding. Not only does Sokka make a lifelong friend, he also gets the coolest sword ever forged. He becomes an impressive and formidable warrior.

5. The Puppet Master S3E8

Some people love this episode, some people hate it. It is very creepy, that much we all can agree on. The gang meets a woman while traveling in the Fire Nation who is from the Southern Water Tribe. She bonds with Katara and eventually wishes to pass down her knowledge to Katara. It is soon revealed that this old woman is the monster behind many recent kidnappings. Katara is forced to either bloodbend or die.

4. The Boiling Rock S3E13

Just amazing. This is the episode where Sokka and Katara are finally able to free their father from prison in the Fire Nation. In it, they must devise a plan to get him off the island in the middle of a boiling hot lake on the top of a volcano. Much like our Alcatraz, no prisoner has ever escaped boiling rock. Azula and her lady killers show up, but Mei betrays Azula in order to save Zuko, Sokka, and Hakoda. Lots of action.

3. The Southern Raiders S3E13

Katara has struggled with her mother’s murder throughout the whole series, this is her opportunity to get revenge with the help of Zuko. It’s her chance to forgive him and allow him into the group. The most powerful moment comes when, confronting the man who killed her mother, he asks who she was protecting all those years ago. Katara looks up at him and shouts, “Me!” while also bending all the raindrops coming down around them. This moment gives me shivers every time I watch. As a side note, Suki and Sokka were totally going to bone when Zuko walked into Sokka’s tent. As a kid, the first time watching this episode, we rewound and rewatched Sokka’s reaction to his unexpected visitor over and over again.

2. The Old Masters S3E16 – Part 2

Because my favorite relationship in the whole series is the one between Iroh and Zuko, this episode ranks extremely high for me. Zuko, a child of abuse, returns finally to apologize for his betrayal to his uncle. He expects Iroh to be firm and unforgiving, but is met with only love and joy. He cannot believe the incredible love this man has for him and it brings me to tears just thinking about it. Iroh is so proud and accepting of Zuko’s mistakes, it’s an unforgettable moment.

1. The Painted Lady S3E3

My favorite episode. Katara is an amazing, kind hearted, powerful woman. She impersonates a water spirit in order to save a river town from the pollution of a Fire Nation refinery. She then continues this reuse in order to save the town from the soldiers that come to burn the village down. Not only is she an amazing woman and water bender, but we get to see a really badass side of Katara in this episode.

#Avatar the last airbender #atla #spoilers #top twelve episodes #zuko #katara #aang #iroh

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storiesofwildfire · 7 years

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Dahlia and Valencia – a headcanon

Author’s Note: Please keep in mind that Dahlia and Valencia were originally created for my Star Wars crossover verse (v; a prince or a jedi). Their stories change significantly when applied to that verse because they were lost in space as young children and actually grew up in the Star Wars universe. When interacting with either of them in this verse, please be aware that not everything below actually applies since they did not grow up on Asgard.

NAME: Dahlia Arosdottir AGE: 1,300 Asgardian years GENDER: Female FACE CLAIM: Gal Gadot PARENTS: Aros Egilson ;; Largatha Bjornsdottir SIBLINGS: Valencia Arosdottor (twin sister) OTHER RELATIVES: None OCCUPATION: Warrior, sorceress, and explorer, often found leading expeditions beyond Yggdrasil for expansion and exploration.

RELATIONSHIP TO LOKI: Dahlia is one of Loki’s former mentors in combat and current friend.

STATUS ON BLOG: Secondary muse that is available for interaction for developed plots and people who already roleplay with Loki and wish to get to know other characters that make up his world. She may also show up in threads if it makes sense for her to make an appearance. Please be aware that Dahlia is the mun’s OC. She is not canon and is not available for public use.

BIO: Dahlia was born to a famed warrior and conquerer by the name of Aros Egilson. Aros became famous for his numerous conquests and expeditions that led him beyond the perimeter of Yggdrasil. Instead of focusing on the Nine Realms already in their system and under their protection, Aros took to the stars to explore, make trade connections, and gain new territories for Asgard.

Through determination, hard work, and the results he turned up, he quickly rose through the ranks of Asgard’s fleet and was eventually honored with the title of Fleet Admiral. It was at this point in Aros’ life that he had to take a step back from his constant travels. His responsibilities on Asgard and to not only his ship, but the entire Fleet, kept him grounded more often than he would have liked.

With the seriousness of his position, he was forced to give up the freedom that his lesser ranks provided him.

Only once he secured this position did he actually take to the idea of having a family. He married a woman named Largatha and a few years after their wedding, they succeeded in conceiving twins.

Dahlia and her sister, Valenica, were born shortly after and they quickly became Aros’ pride and joy. Many asked him if he would have preferred to have sons instead, but he would simply reply, “why have sons when my daughters will be Valkyries? They’ll be the stuff of legends.”

It became apparent at a young age that Dahlia had a love for exploration, much the same as her father. She spent hours upon hours daydreaming about what it would be like to travel, not through the Bifrost and into known realms, but to board a ship and travel out into the unknown. As her wanderlust grew, so did a few other key traits that defined her personality.

She developed a very low tolerance for formal education. While she was incredibly intelligent, she didn’t take her studies very seriously and, instead, spent most of her days on the training grounds alongside other warriors. She took to sparring quite well and matured her skills with a sword just as quickly. She took her father’s words to heart, that one day she would become legendary enough to become a Valkyrie, an elite group of female warriors sworn to protect the throne of Asgard.

She could even be found doodling the mark of the Valkyrie on her inner arm in marker.

The only thing that really set Dahlia apart from the rest of the warriors that she trained with, oddly enough, was never her gender, but her magical abilities. Her sorcery developed at a young age and she found that she was extremely gifted with offensive spells that aided her already sharpened skills in battle. She often received criticism for using such magic, however, as many people claimed that she was cheating and that if she needed to rely on a witch’s tricks to win, she was no true warrior at all.

It was through her training and through her father’s direct connection to Odin that she met the princes. She trained alongside them and because she was slightly older than them both, she often aided in teaching them.

Loki was always a special case because, like her, he was skilled in both the ways of combat as well as the ways of magic. She took a great liking to sparring with him, because she never felt as if she had to hold anything back with Loki. They could fling daggers, punches, and hexes at one another for hours and constantly challenge the other to push harder. Their duels always brought the attention of everyone around them--even warriors who disapproved of magic in the midst of battle--because they were such a sight to behold.

Dahlia got on rather well with Loki’s other sorcerer friends because of their mutual love of magic and their prowess as warriors.

Dahlia’s temper, however, was always something to be wary of. Her tolerance for annoyance and ignorance was lower than just about anyone else’s and it didn’t take much to entice her into violence.

Her rage, however, never really stood in the way of her compassion. She could kick someone down into the dirt one minute for being a right proper arse and the next, she’d be helping them up and getting them proper care for their injuries, usually by means of Valencia’s healing magic.

Despite how hard she was on the exterior, Dahlia proved to have a sensitive side as well. She took a liking to art, though she had no true artistic abilities of her own. She decided to cover her body in whimsical tattoos and, much to everyone’s surprise, she actually possessed a beautiful singing voice. Only a lucky few ever got to hear it, though. She also took to writing in a journal every day, where she would catalog what happened that day and she would trust her innermost secrets to those pages.

Eventually, once she was old enough, Dahlia, along with her sister, Valencia, joined Asgard’s Fleet and together, they went off exploring the regions of unknown space, just as they’d always talked about doing.

Both siblings became skilled pilots and during their downtime in between expeditions, they helped teach the princes how to fly. Loki, Dahlia found, took quite well to piloting a ship. Thor, on the other hand, was never any good at it. She suspected that his hammer and his belief that he could, in fact, fly with it was what caused him to refuse to take such direction seriously. The elder prince was about as hard-headed as she was.

NAME: Valencia Arosdottir AGE: 1,300 Asgardian years GENDER: Female FACE CLAIM: Gal Gadot PARENTS: Aros Egilson ;; Largatha Bjornsdottir SIBLINGS: Dahlia Arosdottor (twin sister) OTHER RELATIVES: None OCCUPATION: Healer, sorceress, and explorer, often found leading expeditions beyond Yggdrasil for expansion and exploration.

RELATIONSHIP TO LOKI: Valencia is one of Loki’s former mentors in combat and current friend.

STATUS ON BLOG: Secondary muse that is available for interaction for developed plots and people who already roleplay with Loki and wish to get to know other characters that make up his world. She may also show up in threads if it makes sense for her to make an appearance. Please be aware that Valencia is the mun’s OC. She is not canon and is not available for public use.

BIO: Valencia always proved to be the softer and more generous of the twins. While her upbringing was nearly identical, Valencia proved to be Dahlia’s opposite in a lot of ways. They weren’t polar opposites by any means. Valencia and Dahlia both had a love of art, music, and exploration. They bonded over the similarities that they shared but they also bonded over how different they were.

While Dahlia took up a love of battle, Valencia’s sorcery lent itself more towards healing and creation. The twins were always equally matched in terms of how powerful their sorcery was, but they both excelled in different areas. For Valencia, her magic always came in the form of enchantments, illusions, and, most of all, healing.

The only reason she took to combat practice at all was to ensure that she could defend herself in situations where magic failed her. She couldn’t easily join Asgard’s fleet and explore uncharted worlds without being able to protect her companions and herself.

She took well to long-distance combat, especially when it came to throwing knives and weapons specifically designed to keep a distance from one’s enemy. Her proficiency with a bow and arrows quickly rose off the charts and many younglings turned to her for lessons.

But she took a greater love in teaching other useful tricks, like first aid and how to scavenge for food. Dahlia took up the role as being the fighter, the protector, while Valencia took up the role of being the survivor. Without her skills and studies of how to survive off the land, how to locate water, how to navigate uncharted areas, and how to interact with creatures that may not understand you or might even be downright unfriendly proved to be just as vital to anyone who wished to participate in off-realm assignments as actual combat.

Some could argue that her skills were even more essential. Anyone could fight when backed into a corner, but not everyone knew how to survive in such harsh conditions.

Because of her kind and gentle nature, Valencia attracted a lot of attention from those around her. She often acted as something of a therapist, so while she healed physical wounds from training or battles, she would counsel those who sought her advice as well. Her sister always told her that she gave too much of herself to others. Perhaps that was true, but it was in Valencia’s nature to give as much as she could. She would give and she would give until she had nothing left to give and even then, she would attempt to give some more.

She often felt like she had to give so much of herself to those around her, however, that she developed a horrible habit of internalizing just about everything. She would often bottle up so much of her own stress and anxiety that even her sister couldn’t get through to her. It sent her into fits of depression and periods where she was always on the verge of an anxiety attack. She had an image to keep up and she had people to take care of. They could never see her crumble.

Those ailments still plague her to this day, though she’s found healthier ways to cope.

Like Dahlia, she befriended the princes and their friends. She became particularly close with both of Odin’s sons, something that never seemed to settle quite right with Thor. He constantly attempted to hoard all of the twins attention so that Loki got none. Valencia was often forced to scold him for his greed. In fact, she spent many nights with both of Asgard’s princes, attempting to help them see eye-to-eye, but like her, she found that Loki internalized far too much to properly open up to many people, even his brother.

When the time came for her to join Asgard’s fleet, she did so happily. While her sister always ranted and raved about becoming a Valkyrie, Valencia wanted nothing more than to roam the stars and reach beyond what already was.

Together, Valencia and Dahlia made up what came to be known as a dream team. They complemented one another so well that they clicked into place like two puzzle pieces and when they worked together, it seemed like nothing was impossible.

#c; dahlia #( side muse ) valencia #index; loki #filed under; affiliates #index; secondary muses #filed under; dahlia #filed under; valencia #about dahlia #about valencia #mun's ocs #( side muse ) dahlia

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