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ohtobeleah · 10 months

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Bruises // Jake Seresin

Chapter Two: [Tactile Takedown]

Summary: When a missile is headed right for Roosters F-18, Jake makes a decision that could end up costing you your life.

Series Warnings: Heavy themes of violence, sexual assault, torture. 18+ content. Minors DNI. Mature themes. Being held in captivity. Hostage style situation. Main character death! Whump, Angst. Conversations that discuss antisocial & antisemitism views.

Word Count: 4.4k

Author Note: THIS SERIES IS CONFRONTING, FICTIONAL, AND DEPICTS IMAGES OF TORTURE. DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT IF YOU BELIEVE THAT THIS SERIES WILL BE DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR MENTAL STABILITY. CURATE YOUR OWN TIMELINE.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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Tuesday - April 18th 2023. D-day.

“How you doing back there Hollywood?” Jake asked as you settled into a steady climb, You’d just taken off from the carrier that had taken you out into the middle of nowhere to complete a mission that seemed somewhat impossible. But you were told these guys were the best of the best, that they don't get any better than the Daggers. An elite group of Naval Aviators who had completed some of the most insane covert operations you'd been blessed to read about. “How's my radar looking?”

And now? Well–now you were one of them.

“Radars clean Hangman.” You confirmed all the while trying to calm the pit of nervousness in your stomach. “Recommend increasing to three hundred knots, you've got Dagger Two approaching at around ten o'clock closure.”

“Confirmed.” Jake replied as he pushed up on his throttle, it sent your head into the back of your chair a little from the force of gravity changing around you. “Increasing speed, Rooster you still with me?” It was just the three of you, Rooster, Hangman and yourself. A small yet tactile team of experienced and highly trained naval aviators sent it to disable a rogue insurgent group that was making far too much noise for the United States navy to ignore.

The mission? Dismantle what Nav-Con believed to be one of the two main insurgent camps situated in the middle of a communication desert. With one highly explosive missile and two of the best air to air combat pilots the navy had ever seen, you were tasked with getting in through a valley that had been similar terrain to a mission Bradley had flown a few years prior.

That was why he was chosen. Experience.

Jake Seresin had a reputation, he was the Hangman. He had two confirmed air to air kills and wouldn't lose sleep over a third of forth. From what you could gather since being assigned as his weapons system officer, Jake took risks. Risks that paid off well. He was highly skilled and that somewhat egomaniacal belief that he was a god given gift to aviation made it easier to pull through with such risks.

That was why he was chosen. Taktical ability to compartmentalise.

But Jake Seresin had a fault. He had a single thread loose that if pulled could undo all that male bravado. He cared, deep down, about his squadron. His colleagues had become more like family than anything. He couldn't turn that blind eye that was so necessary to have if this mission were to fail.

And that's why you were brought in. Why you were chosen for such a dangerous mission. You would have been easier to lose against Robert Floyd or Mickey Garcia and the Admirals all knew it. Jake didn't know you. You were a pivotal part of the mission design, a means to an end if necessary.

You were simply expendable:

From the Admirals who had tasked Bradley and Jake with this mission to Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell, they all knew that if it were Bob or Fanboy sitting in Jake's WSO seat, he wouldn’t take so many risks. And for once–they needed him to take risks. To not think and just do.

“I'm right behind you, Hangman.” Bradleys voice came through the comms as clear as day. He was taling right behind Jake. “We’re looking good so far.”

“Better not have just jinxed us Bradshaw.” Jake sighed as he made a small turn right, heading down into the canyon below. “We get in, we get out and we go home.”

You had spent the last month revising the mission, sitting in hour long debrief sessions with Rooster and Hangman to go over critical points of the mission. You knew they were close, but there was an underlying sort of animosity you couldn't quite figure out.

And that's why they were both chosen for this mission together. There would be no love lost between the two.

“Still nothing up ahead on radar Hangman.” You spoke firmly with enough conviction in your voice to cover up the fact your heart was racing a million miles an hour. You never thought in your wildest dream you'd make it to TopGun and then further, a specialist unit. But this was not the time to doubt your ability. “All systems go back here, max ceiling is three hundred feet if you wanna keep out of line of sight.”

“Aye aye Hollywood.” Jake had never flown with a weapons system officer before. This was his first mission with one. When he’d been called into Admiral Simpson's office one random Thursday afternoon before finishing for the day–He thought for sure he was about to have his ass handed to him for something he’d surely done.

“Hangman.” Admiral Simpson stood at his desk to greet the aviator who looked a little green around the gill upon first entry. He gestured for the flight suit clad, broad shouldered man to sit in the empty seat beside you. “I'd like you to meet Lieutenant Y/N “Hollywood” Y/L/N, she’ll be joining us here for the foreseeable future.” Jake listened as he sat down beside you.

Without hesitation he sent you a strong smile that took up the entire expanse of his face, completely intoxicating and undeniably hollywood.

“It's nice to see some fresh meat around here, keep the competition guessing.” Jake chuckled as he extended his hand to shake yours. “I'm Lieutenant Seresin, Jake.” He was all confidence and cocky ego until you touched his hand, until your hand shook his back in a friendly gesture. Jake wasn't going to pretend that he didn't feel that sharp spark, that jolt of energy, that lighting strike that ignited his skin when you touched him. “But everyone calls me Hangman.”

“Hollywood here is actually joining us as a WSO Seresin.” Admiral Simpson explained as he let his elbows rest against the old oak desk that put some distance between where he sat and where Jake sat, completely unaware that your presence in North Island was about to completely change the trajectory of his career. “She’ll be your WSO.”

“I’m sorry–” Jake retracted his hand from yours as he shot Admiral Simpson a look, he had previously warned you of this reaction, so you chose to remain silent. Taking in your surroundings and observing Hangman's emotions. It was your job to be observant after all. “Since when do I fly with a WSO? I've never flown doubles before and I don't intend to start now.” Jake argued before he turned back to where you sat. “No offence sunshine, I'm sure you’re great and all, it’s just I don't particularly play well with others.”

“I'm more of a midnight rain kinda girl.” All you did was eye him off with an emotionless expression. Jake didn’t appreciate your tone, he did however appreciate the way your eyes nearly sparkled in the warm afternoon sun that came beaming through the window of Admiral Simpson's office. “I’m not too over the moon about working with you either.” It was a dig. “With a callsign as transparent as Hangman I’m sure I’m in great hands.”

“And I’m sure Hollywood has some outstanding depth to it.” Jake was quick on his feet with his comeback before he frowned a little more and turned his attention back to Admiral Simpson. “Why not Bradshaw?” He groaned, seemingly unimpressed by the decision to dump a WSO on him after years of flying solo. “He doesn’t have a WSO, or Coyote!”

It was then that Admiral Simpson pulled out a cream coloured file from his desk draw and slid it across his desk. He let out a sigh that told you someone wasn’t coming back from this one.

“Because we need it to be you.”

“Approach the canyon entrance with caution.” You directed from behind as you watched the Radar closely. “Remember, we only engage if absolutely necessary.”

“Once we’re in we make this quick.” Rooster spoke firmly, he had been a little hesitant to accept this detachment knowing its risk to reward ratio. But he’d been promised a shore leave after this. A well deserved vacation. “Let’s get to work.”

“Copy, heading into Risk Range now.” That was the name on the cream folder Admiral Simpson had passed you and Hangman on day one. Risk Range. Because once you were in there was no way of pulling you out. It was risky, and a mountain range that expanded as far as the eye could see. “Hollywood, have that laser guide ready for me.”

“On it.” It was like they knew you were coming, because as your radar began flashing with approaching enemy aircraft you knew immediately that they knew. It was a gut instinct.

“Rooster evade left! Hangman break right, we’ve got company.” Jake didn’t waste a second of time reacting accordingly. He broke right as Rooster tailed off. It was the very definition of an ambush, cold calculated and premeditated. “Jake!”

“Hangman on your left!” Rooster's voice came through panicked on the comms as Jake did his best to avoid the enemy aircraft that had seemingly come out of thin air: stealth pilots. Trained to be completely unseen until they wanted you to see them. “Break left!”

“Breaking left!” You twisted and turned and left fingerprints on the canopy as you tried your best to get a better visual. It was madness, pure madness. One two three six how many were there? “Come on, talk to me Hollywood, tell me what you see!” As Jake asked you what you saw you felt your heart pounding inside your chest as you saw a single missile. With wide eyes and panic racing through your veins, you spun around.

“Smoke in the air! Smoke in the air! Six o’clock Hangman break right!”

“Deploying flares!” It was only by the skin of what felt like his nose that Jake was able to avoid a direct hit. These guys were ruthless, where one was evaded another would pop up. “Rooster, talk to me man where you at?”

“I’m here! Hollywood, tell me what you see!” You could have sworn the next few seconds played out like a three hour long Christopher Nolan movie. Time stood still as Jake turned around to expose the full scene playing out on the big screen. A surface to air missile was aiming right for Bradley Bradshaw.

“Jake—“ It was a mumble, a murmur even. It threw a spanner in the cogs of this well oiled detachment you thought you knew everything about. Every angle, every concept, every reason why the three of you were specifically chosen. Because as Jake made a decision that would send the F-18 the two of you found yourselves to be in into the side of a mountain range, you realised there would be love lost, a hell of a lot of love lost if anything happened to Rooster. Bradley Bradshaw was Jake Seresin wingman, period. “It's on him.”

“Not if I can help it.” Jake mumbled under his breath as he swung around and headed straight for where Rooster was.

“Banit coming in hot on your tail Rooster, break right!” It was your confirmation that you were all in, every decision Jake made in the sky affected you and vice versa. There was nowhere to run, not here in this mess. “Jake, deploy flares!”

“Deploying flares!” It was only the smallest of miscalculations that caused it. If Jake had deployed his flares just three seconds prior, then perhaps you wouldn't have been hit. Perhaps you would have been able to save Rooster without sacrificing your own safety. Perhaps if Jake had deployed his flares just three seconds earlier, then the missile that hit the tail end of your F-18 with such force, that it blew the ass end right off the aircraft, wouldn't have knocked you out from the impact.

The explosion was the last thing you heard. The warmth of the fire that kissed your skin was the last thing you felt before everything was cold again. So cold. So cold that it almost burned.

“Y/n!” Jake shouted with a panic in his tone of voice as he shook you softly. “Hollywood! Wake up!” There was blood dripping from your nose, a sign Jake wasn't too keen on but other than that? He couldn’t see any other physical injuries. You still had both arms and legs. “Lieutenant Y/L/N wake up!” It was all so muffled, like you were under water, you could hear Jake calling your name, you could feel him shaking your body, but you couldn't talk, couldn't open your eyes. Until you did, slowly and with a groan. “Oh thank god.” It was the first thing you heard Jake say clearly without the muffled understone. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“What happened?” You asked softly as you tried to sit up. “Where are we?” Jake could recognise the panic taking over your being as he kneeled beside you, helping you to sit up with a groan. He noticed the way you held your ribs on the right side of your body, most likely bruised at the very least from the impact of your parachute deploying. “What happened?”

“We got shot down.” Jake said the four words no aviator ever wanted to hear. “You blacked out on impact.” He explained tentatively, not wanting to scare you any more than you already were. “I pulled your chute.”

“Rooster! Head back to the carrier, abort the mission!” It was the last thing Jake could communicate to his wingman before he lost his radio. The fighter jet was totaled, there was no saving it.

“Hollywood we gotta go! Punch out!” Jake shouted over the warning signals that blared in the cockpit as he spun out of control. There was no worse feeling than burning in. He hadnt experienced it often, only once before–but it still felt the same if not worse than that last time. “Y/n?” When you didn't respond Jake knew something was wrong, as he turned to look behind him he saw you slumped forward and unresponsive. “Dammit Hollywood!” Jake did the only thing he could think of that would help you– he reached over and pulled at the yellow and black ejection handle between your legs.

Almost immediately the canopy went flying as you shot out of the fighter jet. Jake saw your chute deploy–relief flooded his system before he pulled his own ejection handle. It sent him flying high into the sky at the speed of light. He just prayed when he hit the ground he’d be able to find you alive and well.

The time between the moment Jake hit the snow covered ground below to the moment he found you lying between the trees was far too long. He ditched his chute and ran and ran and ran until he was at your side. But there wasn't a mountain he wouldn't climb to reach you. That much was true. You were his WSO. His responsibility.

“Rooster?” You asked as it all came racing back. “Did he–?” You didn't even need to finish your sentence before Jake was giving you some sort of peace of mind.

“As far as I know he turned back to the carrier after we got hit. I haven't seen him doing any flyovers.” Jake explained softly as he assessed your current state. “How many fingers am I holding up?” You watched as Jake held his hand up in front of your face and moved it side to side. You followed his every move.

“Two.” You said confidently, still sitting in the snow. “I'm fine, promise, just a little bruised.”

“You think you can walk?” Jake was helping you to your feet before you even gave him a response. “I'm sorry you're in this mess with me, it's just–” It was your turn to interrupt as Jake wrapped your arm around his shoulders to help you stand. If you had seen him demonstrate this kind of behaviour three days ago you would have sworn black and blue you were dreaming, or that some fictitious creature from another realm had replaced the Jake Seresin you’d been flying with for the past few weeks. But after seeing his harrowing attapet to save his wingman's life without a single second of hesitation, you knew Jake actually cared about the people around him.

“It's fine.” You hissed as you took your first guided steps on wobbly legs after falling out of the sky. “You were protecting your wingman, I would have done the same thing.” Jake had a pretty nasty gash on the side of his head from when he’d landed pretty ungracefully. The side of his helmet cut into his temple on impact. “But now we’re down here, with no backup.”

“E-stats are still working.” Jake reminded you as he continued to help you further into the woods, hoping that it could break the chill of the raging wind. “They’ll see us, hopefully, if we just stay put surely the carrier will be able to track our location.” You knew right then and there that Jake was bluffing, you were smack bang in a communication desert.

“Hangman–” You sighed as he helped you sit down against a rock that was further in, Jake didn't miss the way you squinted as you did so, still holding your ribcage like something was wrong. “I don't think anyone will come back for us.” You did your best to try and block out the pain radiating whenever you took a breath in. “It would make more noise than they want to make.”

“You don't know my squad Hollywood.” Jake smirked as he shook his head slightly with a chuckle. He was right, you didn't know the lengths they’d all go to for each other. Jake reached out to cup your cheeks softly, the pad of his thumb swiped at the blood that had dripped down from your nose. “Someone will come, we just gotta get comfy till then.” There was a moment of silence that passed as Jake really took a moment to drink in your features. Even through all the snow and all the worry your eyes still sparkled the same way they did when he first met you in Admiral Simpson's office. “Your ribs? You think they’re broken?”

“Probably just bruised from the impact.” You replied, lost in your own mind as you stared at Jake’s features. From his eyebrows to his emerald green eyes that you swore swirled with desire. Everything was perfect, even the dusting of that five o’clock shadow that was threatening to expose his not so clean cut navy aesthetic.

“Can I have a look?” You missed the feeling of Jake's hand on your cheek the minute he was gone and had pulled away. You couldn't help but to chuckle as you compiled and started undoing your flight suit.

“You trying to cop a feel Seresin?”

“Would that be the worst thing in the world?” He teased back almost too quickly to not have already been on his mind. Jake was as careful as he could be when you had undone your flight suit enough to expose your black under shirt. He watched as you lifted up the cotton fabric enough so that he could press his palm softly against where your ribs were killing. His heart broke when you whimpered, he knew you were holding back as much as you could. “I know why they call you Hollywood, you know.” Jake thought a distraction from the pain and the situation in general would be good. He kept pressing his fingers around your side trying to see if he could feel anything unusual. He knew it hurt like hell, but when your eyes met his as he looked up at you from where he was kenaling beside you–he hoped the distraction helped.

“Oh yeah?” Jake could hear the pain in your voice as you tried to breathe through his poking and prodding. “What's the consensus?” You groaned through gritted teeth as tears threatened to spill down your cheeks.

“Your dads Rick Neven.” Jake concluded as he finished up his examination. “I thought maybe you were some childhood hollywood hotshot at first but then I overheard Mav telling Mando that you looked just like him.” Jake paused for a moment, reading the terrain of your reaction—when you didn’t totally annihilate him for figuring it out, he pressed on. “You don’t like people knowing you’re practically Navy Royalty, hence your mums maiden name.” He shrugged all the while you worked to fix your flight suit up. “And just like you said, just bruised, not breaks.”

It was hard to believe the same man who hadn’t really looked in your general direction for the better half of the time you knew him was paying this much attention to you now. But then again, he had been the one who got you into this mess in the first place. If you were gonna play the blame game.

“Guess there was some depth to it after all huh?” You referred back to the very beginning, to when you had first met Jake. He smiled at you with that golden boy grin that took over the entire expanse of his face.

“Yeah, yeah I guess there was.” Jake knew just by flying with you, albeit reluctantly, these past few weeks, that you were an extraordinary weapons systems officer. You knew your stuff as well as he knew his shit and together you actually made a pretty decent team. He’d been wrong about you personally though. He kept his distance knowing you were only supposed to be around for this particular detachment then you were off again. There was no real reason to get to know you when you'd be gone in the blink of an eye. But oh how Jake was kicking himself for that thought process. Because now here he was, stuck in the middle of nowhere with the very same WSO he’d been actively trying to not get to know. Something told him though the pair of you were going to have a hell of a lot of time to get to know one another. “The sun's starting to set, we should probably find somewhere to spend the night, maybe make a fire.” Jake looked around, trying to see if there was a place in eyesight where the two of you could make camp for the night. It wasn't ideal, but what else was there to do?

“Yeah–yeah that's probably–” Before you could finish your sentence you heard the unmistakable sound of tree branches being crushed under the weight of footsteps. You spun around to see what was behind you and your heart sank into your stomach.

Insurgents, pointing guns directly at you and Jake.

“Jake.” You whispered as you stood slowly, they didn't make any attempt to move from their positionings. Crouched behind rocks, trees and some were just out in the open. They were everywhere. Surrounding the both of you so that there was no way out.

“Get behind me.” It was the only thing Jake could think about, protecting you. He got you into this mess and he was sure as hell going to get you out of it. He ushered you behind him, making sure to keep turning periodically to look at all angles, wondering if there was by chance a way out of this. “Listen to me, you say nothing, you hear me?” Jake reminded you as he assessed how many you were outnumbered by. “No matter what you don't say anything.”

You’d seen movies before, what could happen to a woman held as a prisoner of war. You couldn’t help it when your mind went straight to that awful place.

“Jake, don't let them take me away from you.” It was the worst situation Jake had ever found himself in. “Please—don’t let them.” You begged as tears streamed down your face. You fisted at the back of Jake's flight gear he had yet to take off. Holding him as close to you as you possibly could. You were beyond terrified.

“Put your hands where I can see them!” One of the insurgents shouted as he stepped closer, still aiming his assault weapon directly at the two of you. “Don’t make any sudden movements besides raising your hands above your head.”

He was wearing all black clothes, they all were. Against the white of the snow it made them stand out like sore thumbs. But they did well enough to cover their faces. No identities were exposed besides your own and Jakes.

“I want your word that you won’t hurt her.” Jake growled as he began to raise his arms around his head. Palms facing out. You didn’t dare to move as Jake felt you balling his uniform in your hands a little tighter. “Don’t you touch her.” Jake had his attention drawn to the insurgent in front of him all the while you had your face buried between his shoulder blades—trying to shelter yourself from this hellscape. “Touch her and I swear I’ll kill you all.”

“Lieutenant, I highly doubt you're an incompetent man, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt when I remind you that you have absolutely no authority or power whatsoever in this situation.” The insurgent snickered as he approached closer. “Take the girl.” He tilted his chin in the direction of his men standing off to the side. Before you could react, they were on you.

“JAKE!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as one of them wrapped their arms around your waist and pulled you away harshly—Jake felt your hands slip from the Normex of his flight suit as he spun around to try and grab your wrist.

“Don’t touch her!” Jake warned again.

“No! No! Stop please—PLEASE!” Jake hated your pleas, your screams would forever haunt his heart. His fingers grazed yours as he whipped around to reach for you. “LET ME GO! GET OFF OF ME!”

“I SAID DONT TOUCH—“ Before Jake could finish his sentence he was in the ground lying in the snow face down. The insurgent making the orders had hit him over the back of the head with his gun. It was enough to make you stop struggling, enough to make you stop resisting.

There was a moment where you just stood there in the detainment of insurgents, taking in everything that was happening. Just how were you going to survive this? This wasn’t in the mission parameters.

“Get them to the truck, before we lose any more light.” The insurgent ordered before he turned around, shouting over his shoulder at his men. Jake lying out cold in the snow was the last thing you saw before it all went black. You felt a pinch at the side of your neck before everything went black and your knees gave in.

“Keep them alive, for now.” It was the last thing you heard before everything went numb. “I want answers.”

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#bruises // jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin x reader #Jake Seresin Whump #jake hangman x y/n #jake hangman imagine #top gun hangman

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stealingpotatoes · 10 months

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Skywalkers apart au! It's so precious that Anakin gets to be a dad, a rebellion general Dad but he gets to be there for at least one of them and Padme survives and gets to be a mom and maybe someday they get to meet and it's so good.

Also the concept of General Skywalker of the Rebellion feels like it has so much potential cause he was such a big figure in the Clone Wars, he was the Hero, the General, he could probably get the various splinter rebel cells (they were very divided in the early Rebellion) to follow him by sheer reputation and charisma. Imagine Anakin being at Hoth, like the attack is going along the usual Imperial imminent victory and suddenly an AT-AT has been thrown clear across the landscape and an announcement sounds out "General Skywalker has entered the field" cue Rebel Counterattack due to morale boost and Imperial Panic.

What happened to the 501st here? Did he go to the Venator's crash site where Ahsoka was during Order 66 what did he think when he saw all the dead folks?

Fun thought, Starkiller being the apprentice in this AU, means that Sidious has probably been comparing him to Anakin (in part because he's bitter he didn't fall, in other part cause it's great for fueling the darkside) for years so the first time they face off he's gonna be full of spiteful hatred (all going according to plan) before Starkiller gets styled on by the Skywalker, cause Anakin isn't crippled by the suit and that means he's still massively powerful in the force and skilled in the blade (Vader was too, but less than a whole Anakin), I could see Anakin pulling a Lightside version of the Rogue One Hallway scene against Stormtroopers (or even inquisitors).

Rebel General Anakin Skywalker would be an Imperial Boogeyman.

Leia would probably appreciate it for a while but also she'd get a bit annoyed about her dad's reputation and "Legend" and the fact that she's probably got that entire thing to measure up to, making her more reckless or foolhardy. That's a big shadow to live under.

Padme on the other hand is probably in a very different situation reputation wise, she was the senator for the new Emperor's home planet, she's the old queen of naboo from the Trade Federation attack, she's a founding member of one of the oldest discrete rebellion cells but that still leaves some stigma. She's probably so very worried about Imperial surveilance on her or Luke or the rest of her family, and it doesn't help that the Inquistorious has probably been sniffing around for a while.

ok this is a veeeeery long ask so i'm gonna have a veeeery long answer which is gonna go under this readmore:

YES!! yes absolutely! tbh i decided a while back he never gets an official promotion to general, everyone just calls him General Skywalker for so long that it sticks loll. BUT YEAH I mean working with a Jedi is rare and awe-inspiring enough for any rebellion cell but working with the hero with no fear??? half the rebels are wondering if they can interrupt this mission to ask for his autograph

its extra funny bc for the first few years of the empire he's lowkey depressed and like agh i failed the order republic AND my family i'm a terrible horrible no good jedi who nearly turned to the dark side and while he's having this spiral there's some rebel standing next to him pointing and pogging

and yeah he's SO useful in big battles like that!! he's half a legend, half a ghost story, given most ppl think he died in the Purge but here he is, enacting justice on the empire!! tho he does struggle on quieter missions (which happen a lot more at first bc gotta hide from the empire) that you cant just blaze into. its a difficult shift to go from clone wars general skywalker to rebel general skywalker

yeah 501st same as canon ): but OHHH MY GOD yes thats SUCH A PERFECT IDEA, Anakin going with Rex and Ahsoka to the site and mourning them all (and probably going into another depression spiral lbr)

youre so right lollll obvs leia loves the one up she has in an argument of "well my dad's general skywalker, beat that" but as u say she absolutely wants to live up to that (+ is a very independent/stubborn person and would like Leia Skywalker, not just "General Skywalker's daughter" lol)

AND YEAH ABSOLUTELY Padmé and Anakin's roles in this au are both so interesting (is that egotistical to say) bc they're these upside down versions of their clone wars roles, both very loud people forced to quieten down and be Discreet about how they go abt helping ppl. Padmé is really struggling hiding so much (luke's force sensitivity, her rebel activities, all relations to anakin) and trying to protect Luke while helping the Rebellion WHILE trying not to seem suspicious. a lot on her plate -- only made worse by palpatine keeping a close-ish eye on her, and she can't tell why (is it bc of luke? the rebellion? anakin? or is it just his old favouritism or patriotism being VERY inconvenient??)

on the inquisitors, obvs you don't see a lot of them on coruscant -- but padmé's SO scared abt ppl (MAINLY SIDIOUS WHO, YA KNOW, TRIED TO TURN LUKE'S DAD SITH) finding out abt him and she hates that she's making him repress this part of himself but what choice does she have???

#long post #skywalkers apart au #love au talk!!! thank u for so much of it!!#thanks for the ask!

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a-roguish-gambit · 24 days

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Oh goddddd. Something I reblogged earlier today has given me the best/worst x men brainrot

X-Men maid cafe.

It starts out simple enough with a need for money to help cover maintenance costs at the school. Shit gets blown up/destroyed all the time there. Tis expensive AF.

The queer community is the most mutant friendly out there and many of the X-Men are some flavor of not straight so Charles puts it up to Scott and the others to come up with a way to do a 50/50 split donation drive of sorts in combination with the local LGBT rights org for the school and the org at a local pride festival.

People are brainstorming shit and aren't coming up with anything and then morph jokes "lol what if we did that shit they do in all the super power school animes where they have a maid cafe"

The girls all roll their eyes. Most of the guys look unamused. Jean Grey telepathically flicks a paperclip at them. Then Gambit speaks up, suddenly very enthusiastic about the idea and tries to encourage the others to do the idea.

Storm immediately shuts him down. Jean grey tries to challenge him "sure we can do that...except in the spirit of pride it should be a drag cafe. Women as butlers, men as maids" hoping it would scare him off.

Gambit just looks more enthused. "PERFECT! GAMBIT LOVES DAT IDEA!"

The room is silent. Storm, jean, and rogue share surprised looks before shrugging their shoulders and voting yes. Kurt, Bobby, and morph are up for it too. With majority vote they go through with it.

Gambit and jean fight over the menu. Gambit wanting a full restaurant style menu going and Jean furiously reminding him that this is only going to be up for like a week and none of his choices are cafe food.

They some how manage to get Logan into the outfit and he looks like an angry cat some child played dress up with.

Jubilee working the kitchen and sending the items out with the gayest most sparkling presentation.

Bobby was declared the milkshake king by a group of LGBT gen Zers.

They have donation jars marked with each server's name labeled "tell us which server is your favorite" Hank and Kurt are tied for first place.

Hank is so confused people keep telling him he's amazing and wonderful and keeping asking him for hugs even if they are not attracted to him at all.

Local poetry lesbians have adopted him as their group guy friend.

Kurt: "vy do že keep calling me 'twink'? Pretty sure it's a compliment but I vish I knew vat it meant."

The bi community stanning rogue and gambit. The same group of 10 or so bi peeps coming in and stuffing their jars with ones.

They ended up coming up with x men themed treats. There's cupcakes with little red candy sunglasses on them for cyclops, and a midnight blue flan style pudding with strawberries for nightcrawler. And of course Remy beignet.

Charles is oblivious to this until they open up shop. Goes in to check out how stuff is going, sees just students in non X-Men costumes and just....processes for a few minutes before saying "good work. Have fun" and wheeling himself out the door.

Idk this is probably dumb but I love it ok let them do stupid stuff

#x men #x men comics #charles xavier #gambit #rogue #beast #wolverine #morph #jean grey #cyclops #nightcrawler #iceman #sweet-tea #mod talks

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orbital-inclination · 10 months

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do u have any more thoughts on robot error? one bot vs The Entire City....... the premise captivates me :3c

Naturally~

Because he was originally a Classic Model Error has a fragile casing, comparatively, especially to bots from the Fell line. Though he obviously lived through every match, he got ripped apart a lot. Many of his current parts are from bots he defeated, or from the scrap fields or hasty repairs meant to be temporary. He's more durable than he was when he was first thrown into the Ring, but out of a begrudging respect for what saved him that first match, he's made an effort to keep his frame light and agile over the years. Error is lighter and faster than you'd expect him to be. (u could carry him around bridle style. You’d be risking life and limb but theoretically u could do it.)

The other unique thing about Error is how much of his own coding he modified himself. He had to, to be able to function at all with the glitch ravaging his systems. He couldn’t get rid of it so he had to find a way to live with it. He strengthened his firewalls. Stole components and processor chips from downed bots and locked down any potential back doors to his programming he could find. He’s not infallible, but his unique system makes him a difficult thing to hack.

He also has unfiltered access to the internet. I imagine he learned very quickly to mask his presence like a VPN. (In yet another reference to Murderbot, it’d be perfectly in character for Error to download complete seasons of undernovela to watch in the privacy of his own mind.)

Other tidbits:

Instead of string, Error uses wire. (which he can choose to electrify or heat up to the point of melting metal. ouch)

Error has haphephobia coupled with claustrophobia

Unfortunately for Error, due to the nature of being androids, he is not the only bot who can access code. most domestics are denied the ability to modify themselves and can only do things they've been given permission to do but military grade bots are allowed to optimize and even upgrade themselves as they deem necessary. (within reason, of course.)

u bet ur butt Error is in on the local MMO scene

does Robot Error like knitting? heck yes. sometimes when u are a rogue artificial intelligence its just not safe to be using the internet. he needs SOMETHING to do when he's laying low.

#orbital chatter #robot!au #automon!tale

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gingerylangylang1979 · 8 months

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Remember when Ebra's future at The Bear wasn't certain?

gif courtesy of @heardchef

Remember when this trailer hit and we freaked out?

I was worried about Ebra. I thought he would quit or maybe get fired because he couldn't keep up with the new pace. In season one he was a bit dismayed by all of the components in the chicken piccata. In the moment above there was foreshadowing that he wasn't confident about his place in the future. Things moved forward rapidly. He didn't thrive like Tina in culinary school. In a crueler kitchen he may have been forgotten when he disappeared but he wasn't. He was given space but he wasn't cut loose. People were concerned. Carmy asked about him. Tina reconnected with him. He still had a spot on the team, just one reimagined. I'm glad.

Edwin has high billing despite a small role. He's a legend in Chicago. I honestly think Ebra's the funniest character even though he doesn't get the big goofy, flashy moments. Please let him be funny again! But there is a story of immigration, sadness, and loss for him that is ready to be told. I don't think they will ever give him a big storyline but I do hope he at least gets a monologue to explain the whole thing or it gets revealed in bits and pieces along the way. Also, I think his style doesn't get enough love. He dresses like the older fly African and Caribbean men I see in my Brooklyn neighborhood. Bright colors, bold patterns, boho accessories. It's a vibe. I bet he smells good, too. And he's attractive. If I was his age...

I think Ebra's arc last season says a lot about the show and the people behind it. Carmy could have let Ebra go. There was a lot going on and he could have just saw a rogue element and dropped that ass. But who would Carmy be to judge? He was the most rogue element all season and was the weakest link at Friends & Family. Instead, Carmy still found value in him. Tina could have rubbed in her all star status and promotion but she didn't. She saw a friend struggling, not competition. She had the vision for him in his current position.

Storer saw Edwin in a local play when he was a kid, thought he was the most magical actor he'd seen, remembered him, kept up with his Chicago career, and sought him out for this role. He didn't have to do that. He could have hired a more widely known talent but he gave his childhood favorite actor the opportunity. He remembered and honored him.

I see a lot of how Storer is with his talent in how Carmy is as a leader. Carmy is deeply flawed but he does invest in his people. He could have fired the old crew from day one. But he didn't clean house and hire a bunch of Sydney's (he only needed one). He could have started with an entirely new crew when he decided to rebrand, but he didn't he decided to fast track his found family. Storer wanted people he had worked with to work on The Bear. Jeremy (his award winning lead), Ayo (breakout star, IMO romantic lead, and future director thanks to Chris), Ramy (director), and Molly (romantic interest) are people he worked with in the past, sought out again, and saw how they could build on what he saw in them before.

Anyways, this was partially an ode to Ebra/Edwin and partially me getting warm fuzzies over Storer as a generous show runner and Carmy as a generous anti-hero.

#ebra the bear #edwin lee gibson #carmy berzatto #jeremy allen white #ayo edebiri #sydney adamu #ramy youssef #molly gordon #the bear fx #chris storer #kindness #immigrant voices #somalia #somali stories #liza colón zayas #tina morrero

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pikapeppa · 8 months

Text

Astarion/Tav: Dull

A little early-Act I bonding between Astarion and a bard-rogue Tav. 🥰 1070 words, SFW!

*************

Astarion sighed loudly.

Tav fell back a step and elbowed him. “What’s the matter now, handsome?”

“You’re dull,” he complained. “That’s what the matter is.”

She barked out a laugh. “Excuse me? What did I ever do to deserve such an insult?”

“It’s what you won't do that’s the problem,” he said. “You keep on purchasing things from traders at fair prices.”

“So?”

“So,” he drawled, “we were all snatched into that ghastly nautiloid ship with nothing but the clothes and weapons on our backs. And yet you keep throwing gold around like it’s going out of style!”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” she said. “I barter, and I do it well.”

“And did your bartering get you this?” He deftly rolled a gold ring across his fingertips and held it up with a flourish.

She gasped. “Astarion! Where did you get that?”

“It’s called petty theft, darling,” he said, and he pocketed the ring. “You ought to try your hand at it sometime.”

“Should I, now?” She lifted her hand and scratched her temple in an exaggerated way.

His eyes widened. She was wearing a gold bangle with an oak-leaf design: one that Astarion distinctly remembered having stolen from that healer-druid’s table back at the Sacred Grove.

He slapped a hand over his coin purse. “What the devil—? How did you—?”

She snickered and took the bangle off. “Don’t try selling theft to a thief, my friend. You’re only preaching to the acolytes.” She slipped the bangle into her pocket.

“Excuse you, but that’s mine,” he exclaimed.

“Nice try,” she said sweetly. “If you can’t hang onto it, it’s not yours anymore.”

He smirked. She’d won this particular battle of wits, he’d give her that. “Well, now I especially don’t understand. If you’re such an apt little thief, why in the hells do you keep wasting our precious coin on trading with people when you could be fleecing them instead?”

“Because I’m a noble thief now. I save my nimble fingers for those who deserve it.”

“Please,” he scoffed. “What makes you think those people don’t deserve it?” He waved dismissively back in the direction of the Grove.

She raised her eyebrows. “You think that Nettie deserved to be stolen from? The same Nettie who gave us advice on how to get these tadpoles out of our heads?”

He widened his eyes sarcastically. “You mean that same Nettie who was ready to poison you if you hadn’t given her the answer she was looking for?” He tsked. “I’d have liked to see her try such a trick on me. I wouldn’t have gone down without a fight, I promise you that.”

She rolled her eyes. “I know, I know. You’re the stabbiest vampire who ever stabbed anyone on the face of Faerûn, I know.”

“And the most beautiful, don’t forget.”

“How could I ever?” she said with a grin. “But my point still stands. I save the thieving for those who deserve it.”

“And my point still stands,” he replied. “You’re very dull, not to mention naïve, if you think there’s anyone out there who hasn’t deserved a good robbing at one point or another.”

She gave him a strange look: a thoughtful look, but one that was rather piercing, too. It gave him an odd squirmy feeling in his belly to have her look at him like this, like a faint and unfamiliar kind of discomfort.

He flicked back a lock of hair. “Stare all you want, darling. Just don’t go wandering into a tree while you do.”

She smiled, then tilted her head shrewdly. “How about this, then, if you think I’m so dull: let’s make a bet.”

“What sort of bet?”

“When we get to the goblin camp, I bet that I can pickpocket more than you can.”

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “More what? More individual goblins, or more profit?”

“More profit, of course. There’s no way to keep track of how many individuals we each stole from.”

He pressed a hand to his chest. “You mean you don’t trust me to accurately tell you how many of those misbegotten creatures I steal from?”

“Not for a second.”

“Ha!” he exclaimed. “Look at you learning. Good for you.”

She wrinkled her nose at him: a rather charming look on her freckled little nose. “I’m not that naïve, you know.”

“Of course you’re not, my dear.”

She clicked her tongue, then bumped him with her hip. “So? Do we have a bet?”

“That depends,” he said. “What’s the prize for the winner?”

“If I win, then you have to give this bangle back to Nettie and apologize for pilfering it in the first place.”

He groaned. “Ugh, you want me to apologize? You might as well ram a stake through my ribs. It would be less agonizing.”

She grinned. “If you win, on the other hand, I’ll let you bite me every night for a week.”

Now that was interesting — interesting and surprising. He was going to accept the bet regardless since it would make for an amusing diversion, but now with such a sweet prize at the end? And one that Tav was offering so readily, without even a hint of disgust about what he needed? Wanted, he should say, since he didn’t technically need her blood. Though the feeling it gave him to drink from her rather than from some filthy animal was very different and very delectable.

He shook off the thoughts. Need, want, whatever it was that drove him to imagine the exquisite flutter of Tav’s pulse against his lips: she was offering it without any hesitation, and that alone was… very interesting. And unexpected. And his mouth was already watering for the prize.

“Fine,” he said. “We have a bet. I’ll look forward to having that sweet neck of yours laid bare for me.”

“Will you, now?” she said slyly, and she held out her hand.

In her palm was a gold ring: the stolen ring Astarion had shown her a mere few minutes ago.

He gasped. “You wicked thief! Give that back.” He grabbed for it.

She deftly dodged away from him. “Oh, no you don’t. It’s mine now.”

Her face was lit with a gamine grin, and against all odds, he found himself laughing in response. Despite Tav’s faults — her friendliness and her helpfulness and her naïveté, no matter what she claimed — perhaps she wasn’t quite so dull after all.

#astarion #tav/astarion #tav x astarion #astarion x tav #astarion/tav #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate spoilers #bg3 spoilers

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autumnaaltonen · 1 year

Note

i really would like to know what would be alucard reaction to a goth reader and what would be his thoughts on their style and the music they listen to!! ❤️❤️

really love your works btw!!

Alucard x Goth! Reader

Warnings: none

Immediatly thought you were the rogue vampire he and Seras were tracking down, and had one hand on his gun.

Why else would you be wearing only black from head to toe in broad daylight?

It was 6:30pm.

Seras had to quickly explain the concept of goth fashion, and how 'walking the path of darkness' is also an aesthetic, along with a vampiric lifestyle.

Alucard is happily surprised, having only ever spent time around God-fearing humans who would mistake a Hot Topic for a satanist church.

Imagine his surprise when you turn out to be their contact for the mission, having witnessed the rogue vamp acting super sus while being a regular at your favourite nightclub.

When people started going missing week after week, last seen at the entrance to the club, you knew the wannabe Edward Cullen sleazebag had something to do with it.

You walk the two vampires into the club just before opening to show them around, Skeletal Family and The Cult already blaring through the speakers as the bar sets up for the night.

"It doesn't matter if we all die. Ambition in the back of a black car. In a high building, there is so much to do. Going home time, a story on the radio."

Yeah, Alucard digs it.

Discussing the recent victims, you've already come to the conclusion that the rogue is targeting new kids to the scene, teens and young adults who were just getting into goth culture themselves.

Basically, Alucard and Seras were targeting an undead nark gatekeeper.

Alucard admires your smarts and obervational skills, given that you recognized the target without any help from the experts, but you reassure them that they'll know the vamp when they see him.

Before the club opens, you take Seras behind the bar and force her to go through the Lost n' Found bin to suit up. While her military cosplay hugged her in all the right places, the blue and white were going to make her stick out like a sore thumb.

You reassure Alucard that he's already dressed to impress, and that no one will be any wiser that he was new at the club.

"Will my attire not attract any unwanted attention?" he asks you with a smile, as you help Seras with her makeup in the washroom.

"You will have so many bitches humping your leg, you're going to have trouble shaking them off when the vamp breaks into a run. So perhaps you could lose the hat and goggles," you suggest, squeezing Seras' chin as you force a fake septum around her nose.

As the club opens up to the street, in flows a tidle wave of black lace, sequins and leather. Alucard has never felt more at home, and Seras has never felt so uncomfortable around humans in her life.

Just as you said, it takes the two vamps less than half an hour to spot their target. Cake faced, glammed up with tacky chrome, and biting throats at the bar while patrons think he's just some kinky shmuck with some really authentic fake-fangs.

He's not even trying to be subtle.

Alucard and Seras manage to lead him to the mens bathroom, where they have fun pushing the prick around, treating him worse than the poor kids he 'napped and killed.

You stand at the door, not letting anyone in, and telling them that "staff are setting up a gore-fest theme as promo for the new Saw movie."

With how efficient the mission went, compared to the usual goose chase they go through, Alucard keeps your number in case they have another vamp lose in the city.

You already have a list of possible rogues at other goth hangouts you're familiar with, and are more than happy to help keep your community safe.

However, you find Alucard contacting you more so out of boredom than for work, not that you mind in the slightest.

He shows you the real nitty-gritty of the dark side, how shadows and death bend to his every whim without question, given he is the rightful King of the undead.

Alucard finds your style practical and unique, but thinks you can do better than nightclubs and festivals. It doesn't take long for him to take you under his wing as a Hellsing human associate, acting as a bridge between vampires and the living to communicate on undead disturbances.

You become his right hand, not a secretary, but his human voice and confidante. And no one dares ever question your clothes or makeup whenever you walk into a room, because they know the shadows that follow you aren't just for show anymore.

#hellsing #hellsing ultimate #alucard #hellsing alucard #alucard x reading #hellsing alucard x reader

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trivanvanile · 2 months

Text

I know people like the idea that the Ratgrinders are min-maxers but like, so are most of the bad kids.

Lou is playing one of the most battlefield disruptive martial combos. Fabian hit an AC of 26 in one fight, while dishing out a very high damage with his mini-smite from Fandrangor. (He had second most damage output in The Last Stand as well, and made the Roper miss everyone else with the goading attack.)

Emily is playing a Bard-Hexadin, and will probably be taking a new Bard Subclass soon to reflect her combat style change. Worth noting, she did over double the damage of any other bad kid in the Last Stand, even without the crit Adaine gave her. (Also Emily is a known power gamer, who makes multiclassing such a powerful thing. Sofie with her level (?) in warlock. Saccharina Frostwhip, Witch Queen of the Dairy Isles as a Tempest-Sorcleric)

Murph has also taken a switch to one of the more powerful rogue subclasses, but I’m not surprised given how hard Inquisitive sort of just falls apart. Haste on Riz was essential to his DPR.

Siobhan is just playing a wizard who hit her seventh level spell slot break point. As of now, Adaine might be the biggest target with her ability to change a battlefield, especially with a spell like Scatter.

I don’t have too much insight into Gorgug, cause I don’t really know what Barbificer does beyond what we’ve been given, which admittedly is still a ton of cool stuff.

And Ally has a Twilight Cleric who has consistently put out clutch heals, can hold double concentration (bet Brennan regrets the Teddy Bear), and easily shuts down an entire archetype of enemies (undead.)

I’m gonna do a different post speculating on the Rat Grinders cause this is kinda long as is.

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fhjy #fhjy spoilers #long post

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dg-outlaw · 2 months

Text

"Holy Childhood Trauma, Batman!"

Okay, let's get into it. *spoilers ahead*

X-Men '97: Episode 5 - Remember It

So without boring everyone with yet another recap as every nerd fandom outlet has that covered, I want to highlight all the things that really impacted me with this episode.

The animation team, storyboard artists, and directing for this episode.

I love how this series has captured the essence and style of the original 90s series, but has amped up the actions sequences to an 11, 12, 13, or 20! It's been a hot minute since I saw the original series, but I just don't recall many truly badass anime-esque action sequences from the OG series. And while X-Men has always been more of a socio-political and interpersonal drama, it's always cool to see your favorite characters use their powers in unique ways and this was Gambit's episode. I also love the addition of tears in many of the faces of characters during key moments. It's a minor thing, but emphasizing them just shows the gravity of the emotions the characters are facing. Also, special mention to episode 1 as well with Cyclops' intro and the ending battle in the sentinel graveyard. This series is what we all wanted back in the 90s and honestly, I'd be fine if comic book adaptations were more in animation form than live-action. CGI and VFX can be cool, but having characters do insane, gravity defying things like in this episode without looking janky is so awesome.

The usage and variation of the X-Men theme.

In both these scenes (above) the X-Men theme is played, but in vary different ways and I love when a score or soundtrack can enhance the mood of a scene or just help tell a story or convey a mood/emotion. In the first, we see Gambit and Rogue heading into battle and the score is slowed down and just has this serious tone to it. We're not having fun. This is war and we've got our game faces on. The second is the traditional theme and fits the tone as Gambit is just showing off and being a badass. IDK. I'm not a student of music, but I still love this stuff and how even the same music can be varied to convey different moods.

The impact and stakes.

Without getting too political (even though X-Men is all about politics and social issues), it was hard to not feel an extra impact by this episode's destruction of Genosha given the events taking place overseas in Palestine (as well as so many other countries that don't get as much news coverage). Again, trying to keep this to X-Men, but seeing the mass loss of innocent life (even in a cartoon) in such a quick and brutal way just sent my mind there and it was hard to not tear up thinking about the real loss of innocent life in our world (but without superheroes to intervene). Not to mention, I was already prepared for the loss of Gambit thanks to being on the internet and not watching new content the second it drops.

Honestly, this episode felt like an epic finale given the gut punch of emotions, the action, and the destruction. I know there are many theories that this could/will be reversed or altered via time travel, especially with the presence of the Watcher and Cable's attempt to warn his mother, Madelyne Pryor, but narratively I hope we sit with the weight of what happened in this episode. Selfishly, I want it fixed yesterday but I know that if that were to happen it would minimize the stakes and take away from the emotional weight of this episode. Also, the X-women are going through it this season. First, Storm, then Jean, and now Rogue.

The Ending and Saying Goodbye

So, as mentioned above I had Gambit's death spoiled and while I hate that I still wasn't prepared. As I said, I was already dealing with emotions at seeing the destruction of Genosha, but when it came for Gambit's end I was falling down onto the ground even more. Add in the rest of the X-Men at home, only able to watch from TV, devasted and powerless, and then Rogue's emotional (Death of Superman-style) goodbye as the episode faded to black... I still can't watch this scene or think about it without getting emotional all over again.

That said, to all the kids who thought I was lame for picking to play as Gambit on the playground instead of then fan-favorite Wolverine like everyone else, this episode and his epic goodbye was just amazing. I think anyone wanting to do Gambit justice in a film or solo movie/series should watch this episode and take notes. While most of us hope to die peacefully in our sleep at a ripe old age, I think going out like a total badass hero is a close second and Gambit achieved that. I'm sure it'll get fixed eventually, but I think Genosha (when they rebuild) should have the Magneto and Xavier statues back up, but also have a giant one of Gambit as well.

And speaking of Magneto, having him have flashes of his childhood and embracing the Morlocks (especially Leech) at the end was just more piled on emotional damage... and apparently this is just the tip of the iceberg for this season according to the writer/showrunner. I guess the writers know their audience is probably mostly 80s and 90s kids who grew up with Bambi, Land Before Time, NeverEnding Story, Gremlins, and all the other emotionally damaging "kid" content we were exposed to back in the day. Do I need this level of trauma or PTSD as an adult? No. But I'll keep watching.

#x men 97 #gambit #rogue #magneto #gambit and rogue #and yes it was great seeing Nightcrawler but why here and now?#also all the romantic drama. love triangles and trapezoids and what not #this episode was one part daytime soap opera. one part political drama. and one part epic anime end of the world battle with stakes.#I was not prepared x-men '97. not prepared at all #so many more thoughts but I'm trying to minimize these long posts yet I'm failing completely

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batsight · 3 months

Text

Star Flower, loner, Medic of SkyClan

She/Her, cis bisexual

Mother: Turnip

Father: One Eye

Adoptive Father: Skystar

Siblings: Unnamed, all deceased.

Design notes:

-She is styled after the Pokemon, Ogerpon

-The plants are a physical part of her body. They grow out of her.

-She is the physical embodiment of The Blazing Star.

Story notes: [Abuse CW]

-She was born as a normal kitten to a traveling band of rogues who loved to trade and spread their music. Unfortunately, this band died out to a plague, one that nearly took her own life. Desperate to save his family, her father Carrot traveled to a set of tunnels in Sanctuary Lake rumored to house a reality-bending god. He asked the god for a cure, and the god asked for his eye in return. They made the exchange, and he retrieved a glowing, golden, five pointed flower. However, he was too late to save most of his family, so the entire cure went to his surviving kit. He wasn't expecting her to survive the night given her fragile state and the dubiousness of the exchange...

-But the next morning, she was perfectly fine- great, even. If a little... odd... were those buds growing on her paws...?

-It only got stranger from there. When Carrot ended up finding more cats suffering from the plague, just a few calming purrs from his kit seemed to have them ripe and ready to go the next morning. Carrot understood then what had happened- his kit had become the cure herself. And cats were starting to look towards them more, started begging for her healing, for anything. And Carrot had lost everything... wasn't it time to start winning stuff back?

-And so, the pair became One Eye and Star Flower, for recognition's sake. The two formed their own small group, filled with cats Star Flower had healed. Star Flower loved to spread her magic where she went, to save cats from the brink of death and be showered with their love and appreciation. They felt like they owed a great debt to her, and she enjoyed that.

-She was very close with her father, even if their relationship could be strained. One Eye loved her, but to an extent, he also used her. He grew arrogant in his success, believing he had become the accomplice to a god, and began to hold that over cats who fell sick. He grew desperate for control and Star Flower was his key to that.

-One day, however, her father's group encountered the early clans. They were just beginning to settle down, work out their new rules, and declare borders. But what caught the group's attention was the near murder of a young kittypet, almost mauled to death by proto-SkyClan's leader, Skystar. Unable to heal wounds with her magic, Star Flower managed to bring the cat to a twoleg, who took her away.

-Appalled by the cruelty, Star Flower took a great interest in Skystar's group, and witnessed several of his other crimes against his cats and the other groups. As did One Eye, who, seeing the early signs of a plague, had an idea to put this cat and the other leaders in their place.

-One Eye and Star Flower joined the group, with One Eye acting as a curious loner, flattering Skystar with praise. Skystar enjoyed his company, and so One Eye grew in the rank rather quickly. He also took a great interest in Star Flower and her abilities. After murdering Tom, who insulted the cats and attempted to attack them, One Eye took the chance to take control over the group, overpowering Skystar and using Star Flower's power to keep the remaining cats in line- everything is going to be okay, you'll get your cure... if you stay in line and do as One Eye says.

-This went on for a moon, of Star Flower holding her magic over the heads of her clients to keep their loyalty towards One Eye. She would be lying if she said she didn't feel pride at it all at helping her father.

-Ultimately, One Eye was overthrown and killed when Skystar came back with reinforcements from the other clans. The rest of the rogues they'd accumulated ran off, and suddenly, Star Flower was alone. She'd never been without her father, and running would mean abandoning his grave, which she didn't want. But... this place had been a home to her for some time now, and she needed a place to stay. SkyClan had taken all of the available territory in the area, anyways, and she was in no shape to brave the other territories or twolegplace. So she offered her power to SkyClan as a peace offering and asked for shelter in return.

-Skystar was still sore from the event, but he couldn't deny that having Star Flower as an asset would be beneficial to him in the long run. And around this point, his son Thunderstar had disowned him and split off ThunderClan from SkyClan. He felt that he was losing allies, losing family, and he latched on to desperate Star Flower very quickly- as a cat who would never disobey him.

-Skystar takes Star Flower under his wing as his new child, her new ward, instating her as a medic. And because she is loyal to a fault, she won't disobey a new leader so similar to her father. And so, he pushes her to do humiliating things in front of the camp, ranging from general chores like tick baths, to forcing her to run laps around camp with an injury if she took too long to work her magic. He would take out his frustration from gatherings on her and berate her over the most menial things. He would make her withhold her power to help anyone in the clan who had displeased him. And if Star Flower ever tried to stick up for herself, all he had to do was remind her of what she did, how she helped torment his cats by holding a cure over their heads to help out her father.

-This went on for years, Star Flower becoming more and more despondent. One night, there was a particularly stressful gathering, in which Skystar got into a territorial dispute with Thunderstar over a pack of dogs ravaging the territories. He lost the dispute, came home, and immediately took it out on Star Flower, shouting at and attacking the molly for "taking too much food she didn't deserve". And something in Star Flower finally snapped, and for the first time, she didn't save a life- she took one. And another. And another. As many as what remained in Skystar's soul. She was discovered taking his very last life in his nest, while she was wondering if she could pin it on the dogs. She escaped the camp, and wandered the territory for the rest of her life.

-Unfortunately, while she finally won against Skystar in the moment, it was history who decided the victor. Sparrowstar declared that they couldn't let a tragedy like this happen ever again, and doubled down on banishing rogues. Every rogue-born cat was looked at with suspicion from then on, and as the decades began to pass, Star Flower's story became twisted and bent. As the story is told, a rogue had infiltrated SkyClan's camp asking for help, but had manipulated and charmed the leader with her prowess and rose in the ranks just high enough to take him out and attempt to claim his spot. Her story was used as a cautionary tale against rogues, warning cats against those who would infiltrate the camp and rot it from the inside. Eventually, even her true name was lost to time...

Rotten Flower, Warrior of The Dark Forest

Skystar didn't hesitate to throw her in the depth of the Dark Forest when she died. She wears her mask constantly, trying to keep away from the sickness of the muck. She's embraced the false myth made about her, claiming to have killed a founder for power and prestige. But in reality, it's been so long that she's forgotten her family, her power, her name. She barely even remembers Skystar himself. Though she's admired in the Dark Forest for her achievements, she doesn't hang around anyone, and acts hostile to those who approach her.

Perhaps someone can help her remember who she truly is...?

#changing up the way I do these! wanna make it a bit more clear this is all an au #might go back and update those older posts #anyways...i blorbo'd her. i know everyone likes making her a femme fatale and thats awesome and cool and great if you do that #but man... in canon shes so tragic. shes not allowed to be a person. just a tool for one eye then an object for clear sky #shes treated as evil for warning her dad about an ambush and shes gotta humilate herself for forgiveness. like... man. i wanted to lean int #that. like shes still screwed up for helping her dad use her magic to control people especially during the plague but she didnt deserve thi #also dw she DOES leave the dark forest. she escapes. homegirl does get better #star flower #warriors #wc #warrior cats #dotc #dawn of the clans #skyclan #dark forest #razorverse #anyways i may revise this overtime.... i dont want this to just come across as like. starf suffering hour #she had good parts of her life. i kinda want to make her and bumble friends #edit: i retooled star flower to be skystar's adoptive daughter once thunderstar disowns him #i wanted to play with the original text but. that sort of thing just skeeves me out way too much sorry. so im gutting it #you already know he sucks. i dont want to do any more than that.

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iisasarcasticlittleshite · 1 year

Text

Giyuu Tomioka x Reader (Walk away)

Okay so, be warned, this is LONG people. I've never posted something this long before but I've been sat in front of this far hours and the words just kept coming. I'm pretty proud of it, I think.

It's an angsty slow born, be warned of cannon-typical gore and violence, as well as cannon-divergence because I said so.

I'd rather fall to hell with you, then live on without you.

That is what you'd promised him years ago now, when he'd pushed you away from the life of pain and death that came with bearing a blade against demons.

You had your own burden to carry, either one of you could have died on any given day. The way Giyuu saw it, he'd lost Sabito in a matter of minutes, he could just as easily lose you.

You, with your breath-taking smile and quick tongue, carrying a charisma that no one seemed able to resist.

You were both young slayers, freshly out of final selection and carrying swords newly bearing your colours.

You confused Tomioka beyond belief, how bright and loud you still were despite what you'd just survived. No one comes out of final selection emotionally unscathed, but you acted like life had more in store for you than decades of killing and bloodshed.

Tomioka was addicted to that shine at first, part of him wanted to protect it, the rest, dreaded the day it faded, as he was sure it would.

The world is not kind to those who do not follow it's rules, and you followed no rule in the book. Even your fighting style was out of the box and wild, at times unpredictable or downright unruly.

But, for every mission he took on with you, every time you crossed each other's paths on your way through life, he got addicted to your presence.

Over the years you grew, your brightness grew quieter. No longer an unruly teen, you became a loveable rogue of a Hashira, your smile now a reassurance to those who relied on you for protection, but no amount of change would make him forget that day.

He'd been sent to a deserted village, where a demon had terrorised the townsfolk for weeks, a demon, who claimed to be in the running for the 12 kizuki.

He knew this demon was powerful the moment he stepped into the village's confines, the hair at the nape of his neck stood on end, raising gooseflesh down his arms as the stillness in the air screamed just how wrong this place was.

So much death here, so many ghostly screams waiting to be heard.

He stopped at the gates, and turned to you. For once, you were silent, your eyes ahead and smile absent. You had sensed it to, with your irritatingly good perception for death, and the demons that caused it.

'You should go back for reinforcements.' A young man caught himself saying, unable to restrain the urge to protect the nearest thing he had to a friend. 'This is probably more than we can handle.'

It should have been, the two of you were barely ranked kanoe, and this feels like a demon for a pillar to deal with.

Your deep concentration broke to fix him with an incredulous look, brows pinching as though you'd tasted something bitter. 'Shove off, we both know I'm not going anywhere but forward. Now come on, let's kill this thing.'

Panic made his breath hitch dangerously in his throat, and he realised that fighting beside you was going to be impossible soon. He cared too much, and if just watching you walk toward danger is enough to break total concentration breathing, then if something were to actually happen to you, he doesn't know what he'd do.

Without thinking, he snatched your wrist before you could get ahead of him, eyes hooded by his wild raven hair.

'(Y/N), please...I'm going to walk in there, please, don't follow me.'

'Why?' It's not because he thinks you're weak, you know he doesn't. You've been training together since final selection, fighting demons together, patching each other up, drifting apart only to be put back together soon after. Neither of you has ever been afraid for the other, not when you're apart.

Giyuu knows your skills at least match his, on you best day, you probably outclass him, but...he can't let go of your wrist. He can't walk into danger with you again without his heart feeling like a block of ice in his chest, chilling the very air in his lungs until it hurts to breathe.

His panic doesn't make sense to you, surely he feels what you do? Surely he sees the way you two work together, like a clock's mechanism, endless and thorough.

Surely he sees that you're unstoppable together, sees that facing down hell with him at your side doesn't scare you one bit?

When next he looks into your eyes, it's with the bottomless depths of cobalt you've grown to love, hopelessly, and you realise that, no, he does not see that.

He's petrified, frozen in fear of walking on with you. He doesn't feel supported by you, he feels crippled.

The realisation strikes you in the chest with the force of a horse's kick, stealing the air you desperately need and tearing your heart from your chest.

Before you know it, tears have risen to your eyes as hurt and betrayal clouds your mind. This is not what you need, and you could have sworn you heard the demon lurking in the murky village behind you laugh in mockery at the two young slayers, having a teenage crisis at its doorstep.

Young love, some people spoke of it so wistfully. To Giyuu, it felt crippling, now more than ever. The thought of losing you imobilised him, it didn't matter how strong you were, he was weak to the thought of your absence.

Maybe if he'd known then what he'd know five years later, he might have had the balls to walk beside you, to see the faith you had in him, the loyalty you bore in your heart for him and him alone.

If he'd known, he would have chosen a death at your side a thousand times, rather than what came next.

'I'd have walked into hell at your side sooner than live on alone, did you know that?' He'd never looked more selfish to you, a boy you'd never thought any sort of ill of, a slayer you admired beyond what words could describe.

A man you loved so much your heart could not contain it, now looked to you a selfish prick who chose the easy route over you.

Even if all he'd ever given you was silent companionship, it was enough. Enough that he let you near the quiet moments, let you listen to the few words he said, shared his pain, his convictions with you.

It was enough, it would always have been enough. Had you really been asking too much?

You freed yourself from him and marched ahead. You left him the choice. Contradict his words and follow, go back to being your partner into everything this cruel world had to offer, or shrink away, and cut loose the fear of losing you before his eyes.

Giyuu hadn't followed, and in doing so, lost you in a way far more painful than death.

There is nothing in life he regrets more than turning and running from that gate, unwilling to watch you die, unable to stomach fighting beside you and being responsible for keeping you alive. He'd have been no help to you at that moment he couldn't find his breathing no matter how hard he tried.

Before he'd found help, your crow flew overhead, announcing loud and clear.

"The White Ghost Demon is dead! The Demon is Dead! No casualties! Slayer (L/N) (Y/N) and Tomioka Giyuu have slain the Village Hunter!"

Giyuu almost fell on his face, gaping at the crow, which was already far ahead of him, flying for headquarters no doubt. You'd made your crow lie for him, so he'd never be reprimanded for leaving a fellow slayer to fight alone.

That was you last act of friendship to him.

For the following year, he could not have found you if he'd tried. He told himself it was for the best; never before had he been so crippled by fear and panic, and he swore never to let it happen again.

He trained to the bone and made a name for himself, burying his head in the proverbial sound for years, until he completed hashira training, and finally lifted his eyes to the world.

That was when he saw you. Five years older, knelt before the master, your power and grace rolling off you in waves to rival Tengen's flamboyancy.

You were a sight to behold, young among the pillars and absolutely adored by the corps. It was as though he were looking at a different person, wearing your face, but older.

Gone was your baby-faced bubbly smile, in its place was a roguish grin that softened to a comforting simper among the junior members you took pride in sponsoring and protecting.

You were toned now, carried yourself on soundless steps while the sway of your hips drew the eye.

You'd been promoted to Hashira the year before him, how had he not heard of that?

With your return to his life, he was ready to feel the irreparable panic grip his chest all over again, but it didn't. In its place was pain, a pain like no other as you didn't acknowledge him once.

You were polite enough not to arouse suspicion, but never once met his gaze, never once graced him with the kind of beaming smile you flashed anyone else who spoke to you.

To all the world, it looked like you'd just met a total stranger, and Giyuu knows it's what he deserves.

He knows now what he did, knows what you were trying to show him.

He'd been a coward, and a blind one at that, for missing the trust you had in him. You weren't some ignorant ball of sunshine as he'd sometimes taken you for a fool, you knew what your fate would likely be.

You'd gone about life with a smile, because you wouldn't live on your knees in fear of a death you couldn't avoid, and you'd chosen to do it at his side, because you saw him as someone worth fighting and dying beside.

Why had it taken him this long to see the honour you'd been sharing with him? Why did he have to throw away someone who may well have been his soulmate before realising that you'd put your heart in his hands for him to crush?

He's sure it's too late now, too late for regrets...but dear god every time you smile at the others the way you used to smile at him he swears he could drop to his knees.

The other Hashira are not blind, and it's Tengen who approaches you, observant as he is.

'You and the quiet guy, you know each other from before, right?'

You sat straighter behind your desk, you'd been writing a letter to a friend when the Sound Pillar joined you in your home. His visits aren't unusual anymore, he and his wives like to make themselves at home in your estate.

'What gives you that idea?' You wondered, tone carefully even, knowing he could hear even the slightest change in tone, any hint of change would tip him off.

All things considered, you needn't have bothered trying. Tengen knows you too well.

'The fact that he looks at you like you stole the stars outta the sky. I mean, I get the looking, you're pretty flashy if I do say so myself, but for him to notice? Something's up.'

You sighed, and closed your ink well. This conversation is clearly not going away, and it's one that you should have had with someone long ago. You've never told a soul what happened at that gate, not even other slayers who'd once seen you and Giyuu as inseparable.

None of those slayers are alive today, and the memory of your time with the current water pillar seemed to have been buried with them.

Until now, when he came barrelling back into your life like a silent hurricane. He'd been handsome enough as a teen, did he really need to get prettier? His beauty was akin to that of a sculpture crafted by an angel's own hands, if only the wounds he'd left in your heart didn't cut so deep.

Tengen placed himself across your desk, arms folded, waiting. He knows you too well, gets on with you too well. Neither of you is afraid of being heard, nor do you care what others think of your lifestyle, there's always been a quiet sort of respect between you, as you've now learned, is the way Tengen honours those he idolizes most.

You and Rengoku sat at the top of that list, but you know he's got no great love for Tomioka. Not flashy enough, they could not have been more different.

'I knew him, when we were young. Fresh out of final selection.' You began to explain, willing your eyes onto the view of your garden through the open screens. 'He was such a stick in the mud, I remember thinking he looked so sad, it drove me nuts that he never cracked a smile.'

Tengen watched as something he's never seen before overtook your face: nostalgia.

Open, kind, charismatic as you are, you've never opened up about your past, not even remotely. To the point that no one really knew anything about you other than your mother had died a slayer.

'You were friends?' He prompted when it looked as though you were debating whether or not to continue. 'With that guy?'

All at once, years of memories came flooding back to you. The time you'd complained so much about the heat that Giyuu had pushed you into a lake, it was the first time you saw him laugh.

The time you stumbled across him after being alone for a fortnight and shared your rations with him because he had none.

The countless times you'd tended each other's wounds, knowing what was needed without a word. He could tell you a thousand words with a glance, oh how many times you'd pulled off coordinated attacks in battle without so much as a whisper.

It was a connection unlike anything you'd ever had, growing up alone with you father, and in the years since you'd lost it, the pain of that lost had barely dulled.

Time would not heal this, you knew, and thus your eyes stung with tears long overdue.

Tengen almost lost his breath. He's never seen you cry, never so much as sniffle! Watching you vehemently hold back emotion was something he never thought he'd see unless he caught you on your death bed!

With words so quiet, a voice so delicate he thought you'd shatter like a thin sheet of ice, you whispered keenly to his sensitive ears.

'He was all I had.'

As much as Tengen wanted to ask how you got yourself stuck with that character-less slip of a man without an ounce of flamboyancy in him, he knew he couldn't, because somehow, somewhere, you'd given your heart to that man, and he trusted your judgement in all things, including this.

You pressed your lips together to keep them from wobbling, you hated crying, and deepened your total concentration to keep the tears back, forcing your body into an adrenaline rush to push back those tears.

You would not cry over this again.

'That's not healthy you know?' Tengen's tone was smooth, gentle without patronising you, he knows you'd punch him for such a transgression.

'I'll live.' You told him, as you always did when you came back battered. That hadn't happened in a while, these days.

Tengen chuckled warmly, pinning you with the smile that made most men envy him, and most women swoon. 'I know you will. So, what happened?'

With a deep sigh, you let your body relax, and accept the painful memory, let it stab into you without argument. That pain lanced through your chest, radiating to the very tips of your fingers, but your eyes stayed dry this time.

'He made a choice.' You muttered, at first unsure how to explain such a thing without implicating the new Hashira as a coward. 'In the end, he wasn't willing to fight beside me.'

'Too afraid he'd lose you?' Tengen concluded, earning a solemn nod. 'And you, you would have died beside him, rather than lived on alone?'

It's not the sort of question he would normally ask. He's told his own wives to prioritize their own lives above any mission, but he knows you don't abide by those priorities.

You were not without a self-preservation instinct, but in your mind, being a demon slayer would be the death of you. Being that you'd guaranteed yourself a gruesome death with this choice, you chose to live a good life, a proud life. It's what Tengen admires most in you.

What you'd done, was give Tomioka the highest of honours: you'd given him your loyalty. You'd have walked into battle with Muzan Kibutsuji himself if Giyuu were at your side.

'What kind of an idiot walks away from that?'

Your eyes shot up to Uzui's. His tone is still even and natural, but even you can hear a difference, and see that rage in his eyes, simmering beneath the carmine surface.

'Don't.' You pleaded, though you didn't know what for. 'I didn't tell you this so you could hate him any more than you already do.'

Tengen levelled his gaze with yours, taking in the set of your jaw, the underlying panic. You'd likely just shared the most vulnerable moment of your life with him, he's got no right to ruin it with his own anger.

'I don't hate him,' he attempts to placate you, but your brows furrow at him, 'never said I liked him, but I don't hate him. And as for you, I think you handle yourself pretty damn well around someone who did what he did.'

You sighed, dropping your head into your hands, rubbing your temples. 'All of the others have noticed, haven't they?'

'We're the pillars, (Y/N). Not the easiest bunch to fool.'

'Joy.' You drawled, stubbornly averting your eyes back to the garden. 'You heard none of this.'

Tengen chuckled again, breathing out his own uproar over your case. He knows you're hurting, and he doesn't want you too, not when you've got such a good outlook on life. It's a waste of your time to be frowning.

'I sure didn't. I'll see ya tomorrow, troublemaker.'

He patted your head on his way out, leaving you to your freshly unlocked memories that you frankly could have gone without reliving ever again.

The peace and quiet of your garden made a mockery of the turmoil in your head, locking you behind your eyes for the remainder of the day, oblivious to how keenly Giyuu noticed your absence more and more keenly with each day.

Every time he saw you and knew he could not have you, something in him cracked and broke, feeling the lack of something he didn't know mattered as much as it did.

The tension is killing him inside, but he tucks it firmly away without knowing what the hell else to do with it. You'd made jokes about his "emotional constipation" as younger slayers, if only he'd known to listen to you.

Shinobu caught on to his dilemma and syphoned the information out of Tengen. Not even a shinobi was immune to the insect pillar's interrogation techniques, especially not when she knows he's the only one you would have told anything at all about what's going on.

Infuriatingly, and you and Giyuu have one thing in common, your love of privacy. Flamboyant and proud as you are, you are simultaneously tight lipped.

Shinobu doesn't get much from Tengen, he would die before incurring your full wrath, death would be kinder. Only that you and the water pillar had a significant friendship before something went horribly wrong.

The insect pillar used this information carefully when she and Tomioka were dispatched on a mission together.

'You know, I'm pretty sure (Y/N)'s seen the looks you send them all the time.' She sang sweetly, hopping on river rocks delicately while the water pillar searches for a place to make camp on the bank. The demon they'd been sent to deal with had been dead hours ago, now came the long walk home. 'I've never seen you two talk, but (Y/N)'s so outgoing, I'm surprised they haven't gotten to you.'

She watched his back as he visibly flinched, and she knows she's got him.

'They look at you too, you know?'

That forced his attention off the fire he's trying to start, hands growing still over the kindling.

'What do you want, Shinobu?'

'Oh, nothing.'

He waited for her to say more, but she remained mercifully silent, watching the water flow downstream with a wistful hum fluttering from her throat, and Giyuu rolled his eyes.

In a way, travelling with her reminds him of you, apart from the glaring difference that unlike you, Shinobu does not heed his need for silence.

He used to love listening to you talk, often you'd have observations to share about the world around you, how clear skies brought cold nights. Sometimes you'd spot animals and stop to point them out to him. You saw so much beauty in a world he couldn't fathom loving as much as you seemed to.

No, travelling with Shinobu is nowhere near as comfortable as traveling with you was.

Beyond his notice, the insect pillar was now watching him attentively, paying close attention to how he'd relaxed into nostalgia. Hell, was he smiling?

That did it. Something was to be found here, and she was determined to deal with this little secret if it was the last thing she did.

She concocted a plan to enlist Mitsuri if necessary and find out whatever was causing the tension between you, but before she could even think of putting that plan into action, the two of them returned to find you and Rengoku gone.

The Mugen train had gone awfully wrong, you'd been in the area and sent in at the last moment as reinforcements.

Word got back the next day, that both you and the flame Hashira were critically wounded, the crow didn't seem to know if either of you would make it to the butterfly estate alive.

All at once, all the colour, all the life in the world, drained from Tomioka's face.

Dead. All he heard that crow say, was that you were dead, or about to be.

Upper Moon Three, Akaza, had beaten Kyojuro to death while the Flame Hashira protected a train full of injured passengers, and then taken you out when you'd charged in to save him.

Two pillars knocked out in one fell swoop, it was a devastating blow to the corps...but Giyuu didn't give a rat's ass about the corps.

Your name, your smile, your eyes, the smell of your hair on the breeze, all of it flashed behind his eyes on repeat as his mind pummelled him with the fact that he may never, ever, see you again.

You'd reached the butterfly estate, barely breathing, but Rengoku was more critical than you, Shinobu would have to work on him first.

No one slept that night, least of all Giyuu. All hands were on deck at the butterfly estate, including his. Even though all he could do was solemnly carry linens and bandages back and forth to be watched.

All three of Tengen's wives had joined the denizens of Shinobu's home, helping heal those wounded in the massacre, leaving Shinobu focused on trying to keep the two pillars alive.

He caught a glimpse of you there, bloodied almost beyond recognition. Tanjiro said you'd jumped in so fast that you'd almost taken Akaza's head off in the first blow, the young slayers were in awe of you.

Here, laid in your own blood, hair a spidery mess, staining the white pillow with your own blood, the sight of you made something in Tomioka bleed. It doesn't take much thought to know it's his heart.

"Everyone dies eventually, right?" You'd once said, fifteen, cherub cheeked and eager. "My mother died for a reason, she was protecting people. I've decided that if I have to live without her, then I'll live a life worth living, and if I have to die, it'll be for a reason as good as hers!"

If you died there, on that bed, away from your home, your family, was he supposed to be happy for you? It's the kind of death you wanted, protecting people, your soul may well be sat in that chair beside your body, watching everyone struggle to keep you alive while begging them all to let you go.

You'd done enough, you'd suffered and bled and grieved but...no. He wasn't ready to give you away to death.

If the last time he ever looked you in the eye was the day before he left you, he'd throw himself into hell itself to look you in the eye again and swear to you that he regretted nothing more than his blindness to your love and loyalty.

The estate worked tirelessly well into the next night, and only then did Kocho dare take a step back from your final stitches, having listened to your heart thrum unsteadily for the past ten minutes.

'They'll live, I think. Both of them.'

'You think?' Giyuu couldn't help but press, his eyes fixed on your battered face. Even cleaned up hastily, you looked so very tired. What was the power of an upper moon, to have brutalised you so?

Shinobu laid a hand on his shoulder, an exhausted attempt at comfort. 'I've done everything I can. It's on them now.'

With that, one by one, people began to file out of the room. It felt empty now, two beds on opposite walls, foot to foot, barely a meter between them.

Rengoku still looked as pale as the bandages now covering his left eye, his breath carrying a faint whistle from the severe damage to his chest.

At least it could be heard, proof the hashira hadn't stopped breathing yet.

You, on the other hand, were completely soundless.

Giyuu could not bring himself to leave, slowly shifting to sit on the edge of your bed, your limp hand laying mere inches from his thigh.

So close, yet so far away. You used to drag him around by the hand all the time, shopping in cities, especially when you got hungry.

Your hands were rougher now, skin thickened with callouses from years of wielding a blade. Still, when he cradled your hand between both of his, it felt like home all over again, as familiar and comforting as Urokodaki's cooking.

Limp and pale, your hand hang from his with none of your usual vitality to it, only the faint hint of a pulse at your wrist reminded him that you hadn't died yet.

Shinobu had said it was up to you now, he has to wonder, given the choice, would he come back from this, or would he allow himself to slip into death's embrace?

'Come back,' the plea slipped from his lips before he could think on who might hear. He doesn't care, not when he's gone years in silence. 'Please, please don't leave yet. Come back...you don't need this death yet.'

You remained unmoving, still as the grave, your knuckles dampened as he brought your fingers to his cheek, desperate to ground himself when panic threatened to take him. He let the tears roll onto your skin, waiting for you to wake up and scold him for crying without you.

No one dared ask the water pillar to move from that spot for the day and a half he held that post.

It was a feat of willpower, to be sure. Giyuu sat at your bedside, meditating, your hand held fast in his, as if he was the only thing holding you to this earthly plain.

At some point, all of the pillars visited the room, but granted Tomioka his space as they prayed and hoped for both you and Rengoku to awaken, sound of mind, at the very least.

'I doubt Rengoku will ever walk again.' Shinobu uttered to Aoi, gazing sadly upon the shining light of fire. 'It's a miracle (Y/N) arrived when they did. He'd be dead for sure without them.'

'And (L/N)?'

'I don't know, they took a blow to the head, that worries me more than the damage to their leg.'

Giyuu heard none of it, even if he had, it wouldn't have changed a thing, so long as you still drew breath, he wouldn't leave your side.

By noon of the second day, something changed.

Out of conditioning, habit, or your own subconscious effort, your body slipped into total concentration breathing. Giyuu knows that pattern, memorised it from the nights you spent camping together, it's your own characteristic rhythm, he'd know it anywhere.

Your fingers twitched in his grasp, eyelashes fluttering, as though fighting to open, and he waited with baited breath, periodically squeezing your fingers to help bring you around.

A surge of relief nearly rendered him limp the moment your eyes saw daylight, and squinted, ill-adjusted to the midday sun.

But you were awake, and breathing, consciously, slowly taking in the room until your eyes landed on his.

Those cobalt eyes come as a shock to your system, his is not a face you expected to see as your mind struggles to make sense of your last actions, fighting the upper moon. You'd been reckless in defence of a fellow slayer, you knew that much.

Warmth encompasses your hand, and you know he's holding you when your squeeze his fingers weakly, wordlessly acknowledging his presence.

Avoiding him did not even cross your bleary mind, you'd looked death in the face and said "no, thank you", at that moment your old pains mattered nought, he was there, looking at you with the eyes you could never make yourself hate.

'You're awake, finally.' His voice came raspy with lack of use, and water. 'Do you need something? Should I get Shinobu?'

Slowly, groggily, you shook your head, clinging weakly to three of his fingers with your partly numb had, struggling to get circulation back to where it was needed.

'S-ay.' You managed to huff, clearing your throat. 'Stay.'

Giyuu nodded, scooting closer willingly. He doubted he could have made himself go anywhere if you asked him to. 'I'm here.'

He had no place being the one reassuring you, any one of the others could have done the job better, but he's here, and he doesn't want to leave you.

You opened your mouth, boldly mouthing the question that's been plaguing you for years, forcing it past your battered throat.

'Why, did you leave me, that day?'

All at once, his blood ran cold. He knew you'd ask, you had every right to, and he's thought about the answer a thousand times.

Nothing he could say felt like enough, but just this once, words were unavoidable.

'Because...because I was scared that if I kept going, you'd die beside me. I was scared, of watching it happen.'

You processed his words, clutching his fingers as though he'd disappear if you let go.

Your grip spread warmth over his skin, physical proof that you wanted him there, nowhere else. No one else. Him. You're clinging to him.

'Does it scare you less...' you rasped, pausing for breath as your body screamed at you to shut up and lie still, 'if I die like this?'

'No!' He hadn't meant to raise his voice, it came loose before he knew what he was doing, surging to his feet to hover over you, free hand reaching to cradle your face for fear your eyes would dodge his as they'd done so many times before. 'You were right, again. You were right then, and you're right now. I was scared, and a coward, and I didn't realise what it was you were trying to tell me until I'd walked away.'

You stared up at him for a long moment, cheek sinking into the warmth of his palm, counting your breaths as they see-sawed passed your lips.

'What was I trying to tell you?'

You needed him to say it, needed to hear that he'd actually-

'You loved me.'

Part of that pain slowly healed, your chest felt lighter as you corrected him gently.

'I love you.'

'Even after...(Y/N) you can't forgive me for that.'

You smiled, past pain and oncoming tears that his thumb gently wiped away.

'You let me decide what I can and can't forgive you for, okay hun?'

There it was, that smile you pulled on like it wasn't about to shatter his entire world and send it crashing down onto him. His heart felt three times too big for his chest and threatened to burst through his ribs, crippling him under a surge of adoration.

When had your hands slipped from his and cupped his cheeks, when had you pulled him down to you?

How long had the keys to heaven been found on your lips?

The kiss was a haven, stealing the breath from his lungs as he cautiously sank into your loving embrace.

All at once, he was enveloped in all he things he'd missed. The smell of your hair, the soft hum of your voice as you purred into his clumsy attempts at kissing. Your guidance was patient, loving, fingers eagerly tangling in his thick hair, just as eager to lose yourself in.

Prior to that moment, Giyuu doesn't recall being a religious man, but for you, for your love, he prayed to any god above who'd listen, never to let him walk away from his angel, ever again.

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #angst with comfort #happy ending I promise #giyuu tomioka #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer giyuu #hashira reader #fluff #teeth rotting fluff #slow burn #this is looong #giyuu tomioka x reader #giyuu x reader #tomioka x reader #hashira x reader #kny #kny x reader

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fire-but-ashes-too · 9 months

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(Writerblr) intro post!

Hi! welcome to my blog! this is my (very late) writerblr/general/artblr intro, or just somewhere with all my general informations :)

please, go on and read *bows*

☆ Ash is my name on here and i go by she/her

★ Im a teen writer and artist, but i dream of acting

☆ im from italy

★ pan ace and quoiromantic (or wtfromantic its the same) (im still kinda questioning tho??? probs demiromantic??? idk?? feelings r weird atm)

☆ entp and introvert

★ im always up for tag games or stuff like that :)

☆ recently added tags! #ash writes- my writing ofc #ash and her rants- just me talking abt random stuff could be anything serious or not #ash on fire- probs me fangirling over something lol i may get overexcited beware

★ i relate to a spiritual and psychological level to black cats and all theur other forms (aka regulus black, tori spring, aristotle mendoza etc etc etc)

i mostly write fantasy or fanfiction, but sometimes i engage in various genres as mystery, dystopian or surrealism :)

★ So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since

genre: fanfiction

audience: general/ teen and up

tropes: rivals to lovers, college AU, slow burn, a lot of fencing, paris✨

cw/tw: past rape/non con, ptsd, homophobia, wounds/blood

progress: i try to update every week but nothing's promised 🥲

snippet here:

Years ago he’d learned to mask his handwriting, so now he could easily forge any handwriting he wanted, if he was given a good example of it being used. There was something extremely interesting in how each person connected two letters to each other. How they wrote an “ar” was different from how they would write an “or”, how much the words were apart from each other and how much pressure they put in the paper told a lot about someone, to him it was like zodiac signs. He didn’t always have to copy other handwritings, not unless he wanted to throw the blame on that person. He just had to invent a brand new writing style, and be careful to not slip his between the cracks. And that’s exctly what he did in the letter. Before Jesper could finish his monologue about how much he had missed out in the past few months holed up in his office, a blackmail threat was ready to be closed inside the paper envelope, just the signature was missing, but he didn’t bother to add it. A proper threat always had to be anonymous, it was always better to give as little information you could. Everything could be used against you. The maroon wax sealed the opening with a satisfying fizzling and a single wisp of smoke. The clock chimed on the wall, it was already 6 pm, he had to go finish some assignments.

(previously titled: questionable decisions)

☆ The Rogue

genre: fantasy, dystopian

audience: teen and up

setting: a fantasy world im currently busy (trying) building

progress: just vibes really, two mainc characters, a couple sides and an outline plus one of the first chapters, not much really but im working on it

characters:

anne: the rogue from where i took the title.

shes a 17 y/o girl who lives in a bunker in a forest, on the run from the government as she's a "high traitor and liar who must be destroyed".

she has the ability to modify her face and appereance for a while and she has a prosthetic arm connected to her virtual friend Indigo.

thanks to it she's able to teleport and keep track of various things.

alexander: the son of the dictator, he's lived his life in a bubble until 2 years ago, when he finally managed to get more social contacts with people and (slightly) catch up on what he's missed, behind his father's back of course.

he meets anne when she's captured and figures she's his best shot at escaping his father domain.

snippet:

This time, she materialised in the shadows behind a bulding, which gave her enough cove for her to shift her facial features. Her nose a little bigger, her hair some shades brighter, her eyes more elongated and greener than the grass growing outside her doorstep and a splash of freckles to top it all off. It was way harder to do it without a mirror, and way more dangerous. For all she knew, she could’ve been looking like a girl with a fish head, and she didn’t know if that would be better or worse than looking like herself. Anne took out a hat and a silk scarf, she wrapped it around her neck and jumped in a group of tourists gazing at the city. In no time she was in the square, vendor’s stands circling her, colourful flags waving in the wind. She could’ve stayed like that for ever, stuck in the memories of her old life, but she knew it couldn’t last forever.

★ Flowers and Homicide

genre: mystery

audience: general

cw/tw: blood, dead bodies, autopsies

main character: Giada

she's a forensics student who one day stumbles (metaphorically) over a dead body in her neighbour's lawn and starts investigating.

progress: actually finished but in italian sadly so in the translation process

☆ Confessions of a timeless man

genre: short story, surrealistic

audience: teen and up

content warning: suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, depression

plot summary: a man is stuck living the same day over and over, after almost 10 years there, he tries to escape his curse by killing himself

progress: completed XD

(here's my ao3 btw)

you want to know more about me! why than you, here you go!

★ my favourite artists are Taylor Swift, Conan Gray, Arctic Monkeys, Chase Atlantic, Marina, Lana del Rey, Sabrina Carpenter, Mother Mother and Billie Eilish (theres more but i cant remember whoops)

☆ i have a veryyyy slight synesthesia

★ other than writing, art-ing and reading i love baking/cooking and crocheting

☆ theatre kid over here, always up for screaming my lungs out

★ uhhh im a vegetarian

☆ i know a scary amount about death and murder (especially poisons)

★ i dont have a specific vibe, it usually changes every few months or so

☆ i probably have anxiety but ive never been to therapy so idk 💀

★ always up for fangirling :3 (im in too many fandoms *cries* buuut im most active on pjo, marauders, grishaverse and osemanverse, musicals and some books that i have boards for on my pinterest :D)

☆ i am terribly scared of insects, needles and dogs

★ my (quite unusual) sport is aerial dance, a circus speciality that looks really cool but is acctually really painful

☆ my pinterest, spotify and goodreads if by some reason you're really interested in the chaotic human being that i am :)

thank you for reading this farrr🥹🥹

have a great day/night/life/existence/other :D

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fishklok · 1 year

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In an effort to combine both of my interests, I decided to expand on my Dragon Age!Metalocalypse AU in the style of Dragon Age: Absolution. I'll do more detailed designs later, I just wanted to get the basic concepts down

The general concept of this AU is that 5 musicians discover that weird magic shit happens whenever they perform together, due to demons or old gods or something like that. They're being watched over by a mage who's trying to study this anomaly and the Prophecy behind it. Also Crozier (not pictured) is a former Templar commander who's being mind-corrupted by Salacia (not pictured), the reincarnated visage of an old god.

Nathan: Qunari warrior (reaver). Nathan was raised by his adoptive human parents who love him very much (they're still alive; his backstory is very wholesome). However, Nathan started to manifest these weird magic-like abilities that could only be activated by screaming. Over time, he learned to finesse these abilities and now he can use them for cool pyrotechnics and stuff when he performs. Death metal exists in Thedas now.

Pickles: Dwarf rogue (tempest). Pickles was born to a very traditional merchant caste family in Orzammar, specifically a region in Orzammar where everyone has Midwestern accents. After being fed up with always getting compared to his twin brother, Seth, and not being able to live up to his ancestors and family expectations, he left for the surface. He expected to spend the rest of his life drinking his sorrows away, but then he met Nathan and they started a band.

William: Dwarf rogue (legionnarie scout). William is a casteless dwarf who was infamous for his abrasive personality. This ended up getting him into trouble when he was overheard badmouthing a particularly sensitive noble, and he was banished to the Deep Roads as a punishment. However, he actually enjoyed his time in the Deep Roads and felt a lot of pride dedicating his life to fighting the Darkspawn. His new purpose in life became wanting to join the Legion of the Dead. He manages to escape the Deep Roads sometime after the Blight, but he's still very proud of his legionnarie duties. He's a very good bassist because spending so much time in caves has given him a better understanding and appreciations for deeper sounds and vibrations.

Skwisgaar: Elf rogue (bard). Skwisgaar was well known in his Dalish camp for being the best musician in his clan. But over time, the novelty of that started to wear off and Skwisgaar wanted to be the best musician in other larger communities. He left home in search of a way to truly hone his potential as a musician. Also since he has a wolf motif in the show, there's probably some kind of Dread Wolf connection somewhere, I'll wait for the DA lore to update.

Toki: Elf mage (blood mage). Toki was born to an isolated village that was definitely ruled by a cult (think DA:O Haven). He spent his childhood being plagued by nightmares that eventually manifested in him accidentally summoning a demon that killed everyone in his village. But that didn't stop Toki from befriending the demon. Now Toki is just wandering around Thedas, developing an increasingly large arsenal of demon friends and being uncomfortably chipper despite his horrific abilities.

Charles: Human mage (knight-enchanter who is blood magic curious). Charles is a Circle Mage whose noble background has made his time in the Circle a bit smoother than most. After the Circles fell, he became the magical advisor to a few nobles, but he always felt intellectually unfulfilled. He decided to give up assisting nobles and instead chose to monitor this weird group of musicians, not knowing the kind of power he just tapped into. Also he's been secretly studying blood magic and necromancy.

Knubbler: Elf mage (rift). Knubbler is one of the mages Charles brought on to help him with his efforts. His time studying rifts left him blinded and a bit corrupted in the head, but his knowledge of magic is almost unmatched. Charles is the only person in Thedas still willing to work with him.

Abigail: Human mage (force). Abigail spent most of her life trying to be a perfect, by the books Circle Mage. But then the Circles fell and Abigail realized that none of this shit matters, so she might as well have fun. She joined Charles' team where Knubbler works as her assistant.

Melmord: Human mage (knight-enchanter). Melmord is a mage who fronts as a rogue. He was caught trying to steal Charles' research and Charles thought he could easily defeat him with magic, but oh no Melmord is a mage too. They have a homoerotic magical swordfight before Melmord falls off the tower. No one hired Melmord for this job. He just showed up and started causing problems.

Seth: Dwarf guy. Seth is Pickles' twin brother who did everything a merchant caste son in Orzammar is supposed to do. He married a merchant caste woman and had a kid, he honors the ancestors, he brings in coin, etc. However, Seth tends to get in trouble with the law quite a bit, specifically gambling, working with smugglers, fixing Proving matches, etc. But he's always able to pay off his crimes, so no one seems to care.

Amber: Dwarf lady. Amber is Seth's wife and another merchant caste dwarf. She has a pretty spotless record and tends to go unnoticed. I thought about making her secretly a former Silent Sister to explain why she never speaks, but I think even Seth would notice if she literally didn't have a tongue.

Magnus: Human mage (necromancer). Magnus was born in Seheron, but he moved to Tevinter in the hopes of expanding his knowledge of magic (and probably changed his name too to fit in). Unfortunately, even Tevinter thought he was too dramatic to put up with, so he was cast out of every group he joined. After getting fed up of his cool ideas not taken seriously, he joined forces with an escaped Qunari Saarebas, who is definitely going to listen to his ideas instead.

The Saarebas: Qunari mage (saarebas). The Saarebas is Qunari mage who escaped from his Aravaarad and went on a rampage across Tevinter to try and find his long-lost brother who was taken there. When he discovered that his brother was killed, he went on another rampage. He was able to escape Tevinter with Magnus' help and the two joined forces.

#metalocalypse #dragon age #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #william murderface #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #charles offdensen #dick knubbler #abigail remeltindtdrinc #melmord fjordslorn #seth metalocalypse #amber metalocalypse #magnus hammersmith #metal masked assassin #dragon age au #my art

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