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#i like to think that was a later extension to the building; small differences my beloved
edorazzi · 2 months
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Page 4 of my Miraculous Mentor AU comic A Matter of Trust! In which Adrien is adorably optimistic and Felix is about to get a huge shock at public school - but from what? 👀
Index | Prev | Next (coming soon!)
Weekly updates each Sunday! You can also read ahead early on Patreon, and/or buy me a Ko-fi if you'd like to support my work! 💖
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mandu-17 · 1 year
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Under your spell | Kim Yoohyeon x fem! reader
Requested by: Anonymous
Request: Ah okay! I was thinking maybe Yoohyeon needs reader after a long day of work so reader finds a way to relieve her then the rest is up to you! Also take your time on the Siyeon fic and on my request also, no rush ❤️
Warnings: G!P Yoohyeon, unprotected sex, scratching, choking, cursing
Genre: Smut
Wordcount: ~ 1,713
A/N: kinda obssesed with this tbh
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Twenty three, twenty four, twenty five. And over.
Yoohyeon let out a big breath, another series of back extensions done. She used her quick break in between series to walk around the small gym. Her legs were grateful for that. The burning feeling was spreading through her back muscles, as well as her hamstrings. Yoohyeon’s whole body was covered with sweat, but the thought of having only two more series to do put her in a better mood. Working out always was one of her favorite hobbies, the endorphins it delivered made everything look brighter. Especially, with Yoohyeon’s high level of stamina - it was a great way to spend her energy.
Although, that one cloudy afternoon when the weather outside certainly was not encouraging to do anything, Yoohyeon was distracted. Trapped in the company building, her body wanted to exercise, but her mind was occupied by something far more enjoyable. Another marvelous way to use her energy.
All she could think of was you.
Starting with your addictive lips - she could spend long hours kissing them. Your expressive eyes - telling her exactly what you need or how good she is making you feel. The way they’d darken with lust had Yoohyeon feeling hot every time. Your slim legs spreading open just for her or how beautifully your back arched during your climax. Everything about you was captivating her whole attention. Even the simple thought of your soft skin on hers resulted in her breathing faster. For some reason, since the moment she woke up that day, she just felt so... horny.
Hands resting on her hips, Yoohyeon licked her lips, before pressing them together. She could feel an amused smile forming on them already.
What were you doing to her? She thought, shaking her head.
Determined, she decided to focus on these last two series. The sooner she’ll finish, the sooner she’d actually see you in person. This had her motivated. After affirmatively nodding to herself, Yoohyeon was ready to continue her work out.
When stretching was also done, she headed for a shower. On her way, your girlfriend was wondering what you were doing in that moment. Her lockscreen, displaying a picture of Pie and you sleeping together which she took few weeks ago, told her it was half past six, meaning you were off work. Probably at home already, unless you stopped for grocery shopping.
You sure were a perfect wife material, Yoohyeon realized after you began to leave in the fridge plastic containers of food prepared for her to eat at work or while travelling. You always made sure to leave a sticky note on top of them, your messages were short, but sweet and often playful. You shared a similar sense of humor.
Few minutes later, after an extremely quick shower, Yoohyeon was drying her hair with a blow dryer. Her fingers impatiently traced through the strands of her hair. As she was observing them, she couldn’t help but to picture them in a completely different location. Around your neck maybe or buried deep inside- Honestly, she wished she was able to teleport to your apartment already. The thought of crossing half of the city during rush hour made her blood boil. That day, Yoohyeon noticed, she was truly practising her patience.
“See you tomorrow, Yoohyeon!” One of the company’s gym trainers exclaimed when she was about to leave the building.
“Ah, yes. Bye!” Hurriedly, she turned around in order to wave back at him. Her smile was only partly forced. Yoohyeon liked that guy, she really did.
She decided to blame her unusually unkind behaviour on you.
Yes, it was all your fault.
~
Hundreds of red lights, curse words and dirty thoughts later, Yoohyeon finally made it. With a lopsided grin, she recognized the smell of one of her favorite dishes coming directly from the kitchen. Oh, how she loved coming home to you.
Tired of waiting, she entered the room to find you above the stove, seasoning some vegetables on a pan. You still were unaware of her arrival, because of the radio you were listening to so loudly. Even now, when dressed in more loose, comfortable clothes around the house, you were driving her crazy. And she hadn’t even touched you yet.
Yoohyeon turned the radio down a little, before taking big steps towards you and trapping you in her arms.
“Woah, hey there, tiger.” You giggled, not even getting the chance to properly turn your head to see who turned the radio down. Yooh was very fast. And very  straightforward.
“Hey, pretty girl.” Her lips were already longingly kissing the column of your neck, as she began to sway your bodies side to side. Yoohyeon let her eyes close, happiness embracing her just like she embraced you.
“Did someone miss me?” You asked, amused with her antics. Remaining focused on cooking wasn’t so effortless anymore.
“I was thinking about you all day.” Yoohyeon admitted with a small pout against your neck. There was nothing that could refrain her from getting excited at the close touch of your body.
“Oh, poor Yootony. You’re gonna be the death of me.” You joked, but truth be told - you were positively surprised. You had no problem with Yoohyeon getting back and acting like this everyday.
Turning around in her arms, you got the chance to see how dark her eyes had become. You felt so small in front of Yoohyeon like this. She was undressing you piece by piece with her intense gaze.
“And what am I supposed to say?” Your girlfriend complained playfully, her strong hands pressed you against the kitchen island.
You gasped at the sudden move, although the sound of it was swallowed by Yoohyeon’s eager lips. Not wasting time, she let her tongue inside your mouth, at the same instant, she made you sit on top of the counter. You wrapped both your arms and legs around her form, you knew how much Yoohyeon liked it when you initiated physical contact.
Your girlfriend’s mouth travelled down your body, she quickly took your oversized shirt off, so she had more area to explore freely. She smirked, realizing you weren’t wearing a bra. You hummed when Yoohyeon kissed the valley between your breasts.
The dinner you were preparing - long forgotten.
A sudden moan escaped you the moment Yooh bit your nipple. You shuddered, your hips rocked into hers and that’s when you felt it. Firstly, you took off her shirt. The sight of her firm muscles was something that always got you going. Then, your hand flew to her pants, palming the bulge that formed there. She was extremely hard.
Yoohyeon groaned in relief once you pushed her pants down to her ankles and freed her member. Very impressive she was - huge and veiny, probably the biggest cock you’ve had.
Weakly, you moaned her name as a sign that you were more than ready. Yoohyeon got rid of your shorts, her mouth watered at the sight of your glistening folds. She aligned herself at your entrance, met your eyes and pushed in causing both of you to moan loudly. Nothing could compare to the bliss you felt with her inside you. You were at her mercy, as Yoohyeon’s thrusts were fast and deep. She waited long enough to finally take you however she wanted - she was going to treasure your body as much as possible.
You loved every second of it. The way she was so confident in her desires and how she was able to meet all of your needs at the same time. It was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.
“Shit, baby. You’re so tight.” Yoohyeon praised you, feeling your walls clench around her desperately.
You admired her abs working intently, her face twisted in pure pleasure, especially that little crinkle between her eyebrows and how her lips were forming a perfect ‘o’ shape. Just looking at her was enough to make you cum, you were certain.
“Yoohyeon, fuck.” You cried out when she slapped your thighs suddenly and brought you even closer.
She silenced you with a harsh kiss, not wanting anyone else to hear your moans. You were only hers.
Your nails were digging into the skin of her nape, your other hand created a path of red scratches down her back. Your chests rubbed together with every thrust of Yoohyeon’s hips. You held onto her almost like a koala, your legs were tightly wrapped around her waist with your toes curling at the pleasure. Yoohyeon cursed, it became harder to move her body because of your suffocating hold. She couldn’t stop nonetheless.
She found a phenomenal solution though. Yoohyeon closed her fingers around your neck and laid you down, further on the kitchen counter, while gently squeezing your throat. Your girlfriend was always very careful with you, even after you affirmed her for the hundredth time that you liked it when she choked you a little. It only added to the intense sensation Yoohyeon was giving you.
“I can feel you clenching around my dick.” She panted, addicted to the view of your naked form spread out in front of her. Shivers ran down your spine at Yoohyeon’s lustful voice, your thighs began to tremble. “You’re dripping all over me, baby girl. Just let it go.”
And so you did. You let yourself fall apart under your lover. The way your whole body shook and your back arched felt incredibly uncomfortable because of the hard surface you were laying on, however it couldn’t stop you from moaning uncontrollably and getting lost in the pleasure. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as you harshly gripped Yoohyeon’s wrist with both hands.
Your girlfriend cried out when your walls tightened around her, massaging her member perfectly. These were the moments when Yoohyeon was the happiest about you being on pills because there truly was nothing more magical than cumming in your wet, warm pussy. She filled you with her creamy seed, her cock pulsed deep inside you before it slowly returned to its’ more relaxed state.
“Yoohyeon…” You mumbled weakly when aftershocks stopped, your breathing still uneven. There was even a path of your mixed juices dripping down your thigh. “The pan.”
“Shit.”
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Yuu (Al-) Asim and Jamil
Look, I needed to get this off my mind, alright? Here’s some low-key, high-key Jamil discreetly having a crush on Yuu who is Kalim’s older sibling and it might also be a teeny, tiny bit yandere but not much (maybe). Might or might not be canon to the Sibling!Yuu AU lore. I just needed to get this off my brain, okay? I might make a part 2 but with overblot Jamil though I’m not sure. Anyway, enjoy! 
===
Yuu didn’t plan on staying at NRC for long. It was fun catching up with their younger brother and letting loose for a while but at the end of the day they were still a traveling merchant at heart and wherever there’s money to be made, they will be there. In fact, the only thing that made them want to stay for so long was because of the amount of students overblotting in the school. Yuu was very sure this shouldn’t even be a normal occurrence but it’s weird that it’s happened three times already within the span of a few months.
Riddle Rosehearts of the Heartslabyul Dorm was the first one to overblot. Yuu hadn’t really planned on getting tangled with whatever was happening in the Heartslabyul Dorm at first, but then Ace Trappola had come knocking on Ramshackle’s doors and Yuu really didn’t have the heart to turn the poor boy away, especially when he had nowhere else to go. Ace had been under the impression that Ramshackle was an abandoned building so he was thinking of spending the night there. 
Ramshackle was abandoned until Yuu rented it from the Headmaster. Yuu had more than enough money to pay for it anyway. They turned Ramshackle into a small shop that sold simple, fun things that they’ve amassed from their travels. Sure, they could’ve sold the same things as what Sam had in his store and they had the resources to definitely do it but they didn’t want to compete with the local business. The older Asim child didn’t even mind if they didn’t make a lot of profit. Additionally, they weren’t an idiot to mess with Sam and, by extension, his friends on the other side. Their sense of self-preservation was working properly, thank you very much, they didn’t need to test it.
The next one to overblot was Leona Kingscholar of the Savanaclaw Dorm. Again, Yuu hadn’t planned on interfering with whatever was happening but then the students just kept getting injured left and right. Yuu didn’t have it in their conscience to just let everything be so they asked permission from the Headmaster to investigate. That one was a wild run from start to end but thankfully everything ended well.
Finally, the latest to overblot was someone from the Octavinelle Dorm by the name Azul Ashengrotto. He had tried to take Ramshackle away from Yuu after Ace and Deuce made a contract with the Octavinelle Dorm Leader and failed to uphold their end of the deal. The stern lecture those two got from Grim was really something Yuu could never forget. Grim didn’t stop until two hours later. In fact, the cat-like creature would’ve most likely continued on for a few more hours but Yuu had taken pity on the Heartslabyul boys whose legs have become numb from sitting for too long and intervened.
Though after the overblot events, Yuu began to have a sneaking suspicion of its emergence pattern. They weren’t saying they were being paranoid but they weren’t taking any chances, you see? So, they discreetly placed Kalim under heavy watch for a few days and only eased up when they could finally be assured that their younger brother wasn’t acting any different and was not in danger of overblotting. 
Currently, they and Grim were in Scarabia Dorm. With Yuu’s living arrangement in NRC, they tended to alternate between staying in Scarabia and Ramshackle since they didn’t want to impose on their brother too much, much to Kalim’s disappointment.
Having said goodbye to the others as they went back to their homes for winter vacation, Yuu also began to pack their luggage and started planning on where they and Grim would go next. Coral Sea was out of the potential candidates since the ocean was bound to be frozen at this time of the year. Yuu didn’t want to pickaxe their way through the frozen ocean. Hmm… The Briar Valley was a good place, perhaps? Or maybe the Rose Kingdom–
“Yuu?” A familiar voice spoke up and Yuu paused in the middle of what they were doing to turn their head towards the source of the voice. Standing at the doorway was Jamil. “What’s all this?”
“Oh, good morning Jamil!” Yuu greeted cheerfully with a small wave. Jamil was Yuu’s younger brother’s attendant. Yuu remembered having had an attendant once at a point in their life, too… Not anymore, though…
Well! It was best not to dwell too much in the past! Yuu had Grim by their side anyway!
“What’s wrong? Did you need anything?” Yuu asked, watching as Jamil’s questioning gaze moved to the luggage in Yuu’s bed and the older Asim realized that they hadn’t actually told anyone they were traveling soon, did they? Silly them! They forgot that it wasn’t just them and Grim here now. If they disappeared so suddenly, their brother would surely try to look for them!
“Oh, right! I forgot to tell you and Kalim, didn’t I? Grim and I are planning on traveling again.” They said and continued packing their clothes. “So sorry for such short notice! We don’t really tend to stay in one place for too long and we often travel without a heads up,  you see.”
Jamil hummed in acknowledgment and Yuu could hear the Scarabian boy approach them from behind. “Is that so? Well, would you like some help?” He kindly offered. Yuu chuckled lightly and shook their head. They didn’t have a lot to pack, they could finish this quickly. “It’s alright, it’s alright, you don’t have to! I’m about to finish up, anyway.”
However, it seemed like Jamil wasn’t taking ‘no’ as an answer as he reached out and firmly gripped Yuu’s arm, stopping them from putting their folded shirt in the baggage.
“Oh no, no, I insist.” Feeling the other grip their arm a bit too hard, Yuu instinctively whipped their head up to look at Jamil but as they did, they met his gaze and…and…
…and what were they doing again…?
Yuu stumbled backward, the feeling of vertigo consuming them momentarily but Jamil quickly reached out, a hand firmly planted on Yuu’s back as they helped the older person steady themselves.
“Are you alright, Yuu?” Jamil asked, worry etched in his features. Yuu blinked owlishly, dazed, and then frowned. They brought a hand up to their forehead and massaged their temples.
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m fine, I just…” Yuu said unsurely, a look of confusion on their face. “What was I saying again…?”
Jamil calmly said without skipping a beat, “You were planning on staying for a few more weeks. The weather’s awfully cold so you were going to live here in Scarabia instead of Ramshackle.”
Huh, that… that didn’t sound right. Did they really say that? Yuu tilted their head. “Is that so?” They couldn’t help but doubt it. Something here wasn’t adding up but Yuu couldn’t quite put a finger as to what.
“Hm…” Jamil hummed, scrutinizing them. “Maybe you’re feeling a bit under the weather? Well, why don’t I help you unpack your luggage since you said you weren’t going to be traveling as of yet. After that, I’ll make you food to help you feel better.” He gave Yuu a warm smile.
Seeing the other smile at them made Yuu smile too. What a kind and caring boy Jamil was! Kalim was really lucky to have such a compassionate and thoughtful attendant like Jamil. They were almost jealous!
Taking a quick glance at their almost-full luggage, Yuu hesitated for a bit, something in the back of their mind warning them of a danger they don’t remember, before helping Jamil unpack their things.
It was probably nothing… right? 
N̷̠͖̹̜͖̂͆̔͐͘ǫ̶̞͚͕̀,̸̳̑̓̐͒ ̸͈̭̟̫̭̃̈́n̸͔͋̕õ̶̘̳̩̪͂͝,̵̩̪̉͝ ̶̯̫̭͌̽̏̄͠ň̵̥̻̙͙̃͋ờ̵͉̇͑̔,̴͉̩͍̥͋̚̚ ̶͔͛n̵̲̎̂́́̍o̶̢̡̨̠̒,̶̫͇̕ ̸̞̞͔͈̏̎͛̌n̶̤̔ȯ̵̡̍͐͗,̵͓͐̀́̂͑ ̷̲̖̲̐̋͑̉ș̷̼̗͊̿̓n̸̨̜̭͗͛͝ä̴̡́̂̽p̶͚̤͖͘ͅ ̴͍̍̈͐͠ȏ̷̮̟̱̻͘͠u̴̧̩̤͒t̶̡̲̼̠̒̾ ̷͚͚͉̋o̸͚̹̊͒f̶̻͙͛̑̓̿̉ ̸̖̆͆i̶͔͔̗̩͆̎͆̈͐t̸̡̏̋̕͝,̸͈̬̈́́ ̴̢̳̗̎̓s̸̗̄̒͂o̶̖̤̳͐̀̇m̵̛͎̝̂͘̚e̷̦͈͐̔̄̈́́ͅt̴̳̽̕h̸̳̩̱̗̒̀͘ȉ̸̢̩̘̠̼̎͛̔͂n̷̳͋g̴͖̼̪͙̗̊̊’̸̘̮͓̻̺̈́̕s̴̳͍̟͖͗̂̚ ̴̪͗͝w̶̘͈̞͇̿̓̔͛r̴͓͍͉̈̑͌̚͠ǫ̷̞̎n̷̤̒͂̋̑͝ģ̶̜̘͕̙̀̀̃̽̈́,̸̥͉̎ ̵̲̲̥̍̆̈́̚ś̶͉n̵̺̞͎̞̄̽̐̉͝ȃ̷̧͉̩̉̀̄͝p̷̧̢̛̛̜͇̟̃ ̴̛̘̾ó̷̭̭͍̜̕͝ͅu̷̪͍͓͂t̷̖͈̔̇̄̎̓ ̸̙̺̳̍o̷̧̯̻̮͑̌̌̾f̶̮̲̈̌́͜ ̸̱̘͈̈ḭ̷̾̿̕t̵͎͇̗̯̀̔̽̄̕,̴̩͗̐̄̚ ̸̧̝͙̄̍͑͛s̷̜̘̓̊͛͠n̷͍̜͇̮͆́̆̈́̆â̴̼̕ṕ̶̧͙͈̿ ̸̯̋̽͛̈͒ờ̶̢̻͍̹̤̔̕ú̷͕̭̠̽̋t̷͍͊̚͠ ̵̹̎̇̒̕ͅo̴̙̦͎͔͌̂̉͘f̴̛̣͛̐̏͠ ̶̰̖̹̏̅̕i̵̼̩͙͛–̸̯̌́͆̈
Right...
“Fngyaaa…” Grim collapsed down into the bedsheets, exhausted. “Yuu, you notice it too, don’t you? Kalim’s acting really, really weird! It’s as if he’s possessed or something! We managed to talk him out of having to force his dorm members to staying here but then he suddenly just shifted as if he was another person!”
Yuu groaned from beside him, lying face down on their bed. “Mou… I didn’t expect he’d actually force us to train with them… To think we’d be marching the desert for hours… Was he really that upset about losing the Magift Tournament? But he didn’t seem like he was affected, even with the stress of the exams.” Yuu would know. They did put Kalim under heavy surveillance, after all. So, why now? What was so different now? “In the first place, why did we have to exercise and study with them? We aren’t even going school here.” They sighed tiredly.
The two stayed silent and still for a brief moment before Grim’s ears perked up. The feline creature sat up from the bed and tapped Yuu’s shoulder repeatedly. “Hey, Yuu… Yuu, why don’t we just go and leave? It’s about high time we start travelling anyway.”
Yuu looked at Grim with a confused expression. “What? What do you mean?”
“Fgnya! It’s not like we have to stay here! You’re Kalim’s older sibling, would he really force you stay here if you were firm about in leaving? You have to put your foot down and really mean it, Yuu! Don’t spoil him!”
Yuu sighed but didn’t deny his words. Grim had a point. They knew they should be acting their part as Kalim’s older sibling and scold him for being too hard on his dorm members. To use their vacation time for training and studying without even being able to see their family was just unnecessarily cruel. Although they felt like they were being a bit unfair to Kalim too, they just couldn’t stand by and see him ruin himself.
Yuu sighed once again but rolled out of bed. “Alright, alright. You stay here, I’ll go talk to Kalim that we’ll be heading off at the soonest convenient time.”
After making sure they looked presentable in the mirror, they left the room.
Walking down the hallways of Scarabia, Yuu didn’t expect to bump into Jamil.
“Oh, good evening, Jamil…” Yuu tried to greet the other with the same cheery expression that they usually had but judging by the look on Jamil’s face, they weren’t successful. Yuu was just too exhausted to care right now, anyway.
“Are you alright, Yuu?” Jamil asked, putting a hand on Yuu’s back as they led them to a nearby balcony to get some fresh air. Yuu felt touched by their thoughtfulness and the cold night air really helped. “Was there something you needed? You could’ve just called one of the dorm members. I’m sure they won’t mind getting you what you need.”
“No, it’s…” Yuu scratched the back of their head. “It’s fine. I was just heading over to go and have a small talk with Kalim.”
“Hm? Why is that? Why do you need to go have a talk with him?“ Jamil inquired in curiosity. Though, had Yuu been paying attention closely, it was more like he was interrogating them.
“Well,” Yuu started. There was a lot of things they wanted to say, honestly. But they don’t know where to start. “I was going to tell him to cut your dorm members some slack, you know? I know there are times to get serious and times to have fun but Kalim’s just… taking it too far right now.”
“Ah, I see… I can’t say I’m not surprised.” Jamil nodded, agreeing with Yuu’s words. “Kalim has always been… willful. Though, he wasn’t always like this. Perhaps being the Dorm Leader of Scarabia is taking a toll on him. It is hard to manage all this all on his own but the way he’s going about it is…” Jamil trailed off but Yuu understood what he was trying to say.
Some people were just good at being leaders and some people just needed… maybe more than a few lessons here and there to be good at leading. And right now? Kalim wasn’t… fit to lead, as harsh as it sounds. He was acting more of a tyrant than anything and if Yuu knew anything about tyrants, it was that people were bound to overthrow them sooner or later. Yuu didn’t want to see their brother get hurt once that happened.
Yuu sighed once again. They’ve been sighing a lot ever since they decided to stay here. Maybe staying at one place for too long was getting to them. They weren’t used to it. Ever since Yuu was young, they’d always had the habit of travelling all around different places. Yuu looked up at the night sky and watched as the stars twinkled up above.
“Objectively speaking…” Yuu gave a quick glance at Jamil through their peripheral vision. He, too, was looking up at the stars and quietly waiting for what Yuu had to say. “I think… you’d suit to be the Dorm Leader right now, Jamil.”
“...!” Jamil, not expecting that Yuu would  say this out of the blue whipped his head to the side to look at the older Asim with wide eyes. “...What?”
“I know I’m foolish at times, but I’m not blind.” Yuu laughed lightly, finding the face Jamil was making at the very moment funny. 
“I’m a merchant, Jamil. I have an eye for these things. Although you’ve tried to hide it, it’s clear that you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’re more than capable enough to run this place. I know Kalim’s currently the Dorm Leader but he’s still… young. He still has a lot to learn.” Yuu’s smiled turned melancholic. “Though, I do understand if you’re against it. There are a lot of households serving… attending the Asim Family and to go against them… us would be a bad idea.”
Jamil stayed silent. Yuu looked over to him with a small smile. “But, if you wanted to be the Dorm Leader, would you, Jamil?”
“I… that…” Jamil looked conflicted but he didn’t answer. That was fair. Jamil had been serving the Asim Family for so long that he was probably hesitant to even do something that would be perceived as going against them (not really but it’s not like Yuu knew what was happening). Yuu patted his shoulders gently and gave him a cheeky smile. “It’s alright if you don’t have an answer now. But if you ever do want to, just call me, alright? I may have not visited home for years now but I know my words still have weight around in the Asim Family. I am the oldest Asim child, after all.”
The two became silent, only the sound of the howling wind and the chirping of crickets preventing it from becoming becoming fully awkward.
Yuu lightly coughed. Right, they almost got off track for their real reason they left their room. “Anyway, have you seen Kalim anywhere? I also need to tell him that Grim and I are going to depart as soon as we can.”
“What?” Just like that, the peaceful– almost gentle– lull of silence between the two was broken. Jamil looked at Yuu with furrowed brows, not understanding why Yuu would just say that out of nowhere.
“Grim and I are planning on going to travel as soon as we can. ” Yuu confessed. It wasn’t like they had any reason to keep it from Jamil. Jamil was so nice and considerate and caring and– these aren’t your thoughts, why are you thinking these things, you have to wake up–they know they could trust him!
“I don’t know what happened last time but we really are planning on continuing our travel this time. I was about to head over to Kalim to tell him about this. I wouldn’t want him to wake up next morning and wonder where we suddenly went, hahaha!” Yuu chuckled lightly but their amusement died down as Jamil made no noise or movement beside them.
Feeling something in the current situation was weird, Yuu looked towards Jamil with a frown. “Jamil…?”
Although Jamil was smiling, their face held no joy. In fact, his smile appeared strained and the aura around him seemed… dangerous. Yuu tensed up, feeling a chill run down their spine. Their intuition that they honed through years and years of travel screaming at them to turn away immediately and start run. And who were they to deny their intuition when this had saved them multiple times from getting terribly injured?
Just as they were about to turn away, Jamil opened his eyes and met their eyes, the smile on his face gone. Yuu found their limbs locked in place. No matter how much Yuu tried, they couldn’t find it in themselves to look away from Jamil’s piercing stare.
“And here we were having such a sweet moment, but you’re still actually thinking of such things?” He said in a low voice, scowling in displeasure. “Looks like I need to completely wipe that thought out of your mind again. Really, why do you keep trying to leave when you can just stay? Now, look into my eyes. Snake Whisper...”
The next day, Yuu woke up in bed with no memory of what had transpired the night before. They never got to speak to Kalim about leaving, either. How odd… When Grim asked them about this, Yuu just gave him a weird look and firmly stated that they were staying in Scarabia, much to Grim’s chagrin.
Though, Yuu felt as if they’ve forgotten something very important… They wondered what it was but they couldn’t seem to get their mind to focus as Jamil smiled at waved at them from the front as the entirety of the Scarabia Dorm was preparing to go to the East Oasis. 
Yuu smiled and waved back, the nagging feeling they had getting pushed back to the back of their mind. Well, if whatever they had forgotten was important then they’ll most likely remember it later. Right now, they should get ready to march.
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world-of-aus · 1 year
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Family Matters - His Lies Unfold
Pairings: Mobster!Bucky x Reader
Warnings: No warnings.
Author's Note: Here is part III to the revamp for family matters series. Part one and two can be found on my other page @worldofausupdates. As always keep in mind that there are some things that will be changing as I rebuild this story but will try to keep things as similar to the original as possible. Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy this third part! More coming soon, happy reading Buns!
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The early morning sun is muted by the clouds, soft drops of rain painting the passenger window of the cab you sit in. The cab itself is quiet leaving you to your thoughts as you look out the window, the scenery passing in a blur. It’s all a distant memory for you, the landscape, its buildings, the homes. The night your father sent you out with your bags you swore you would never return; not even when your grandmother passed and you rang your mother that morning to give her the news did you think of running home. Didn’t think of returning even when you were barely scraping by your rent, working two jobs just to make ends meet. 
Your father hadn’t needed to hold you to a promise of never looking back, of never coming home, the pain and hate you harbored in your chest for the man you once claimed to look up to was enough to keep you away. Your parents had done the one thing you swore they never would. 
The uneasiness you felt upon sitting in the back of cab has begun to grow, spreading through you like wild vines the closer you get to the police department. You had rung detective Stark two minutes into the cab ride, informing him that you would be stopping in within the hour, possibly two depending on traffic. You had hoped for the latter, but the streets were empty, cutting your time in half as the cab driver barreled down the empty streets of New York. 
The man’s calling your attention at a red light, sunken tired eyes finding yours in the mirror, “be there in five miss.” You’re nodding your head briskly, offering up a warm smile as you give him your thanks. As you pass the light you reach for your purse, you take your coin bag out fingers pulling at the zipper just as you pull into the parking lot of the police department. You grab your bills and a few extra from the bag, leaning forward to press the money into the mans wrinkled hands. He smiles, “thank you miss, you have a great day.” You smile hoping it reaches your eyes, “thank you,” you return the sentiment, “you as well.” 
Slipping the coin bag back into your purse, you reach over for the small carry on you brought along with you just in case this took much longer than expected. It wasn’t much, but enough for the week if necessary. Exiting the cab with your things you stride to the front door of the department, an officer holding the door for you as he greets you. Another sits at a front desk, smile on her face as she looks you over, “yes miss what can we do for you?” she questions. 
You close the distance, “I’m actually here to meet with Detective Stark.” “Oh yes,” she chirps, “give us a minute, I'll ring his office and let him know you arrived.” You nod watching as she reaches for the phone desk dialing in an extension before bringing it up to her ear. A second or two must have passed when you see her speak into the receiver, “good morning detective stark, your appointment is here,” she hangs up a second later. “He’ll be right with you hun.” 
You thank her before stepping away from the desk to wait, you don’t have to wait long, a spiky haired brunette with glasses comes down the hall a second later, your name on his tongue. You’re moving forward to take hold of his outstretched hand, “miss y/l/n, detective stark,” he greets, “and while I wish the circumstances were different, I’m glad you’re here, follow me this way.” 
You follow him down the hall, letting him guide you into an office with a simple desk and two plush chairs. You take one of the chairs while he closes the door, adjusting yourself in the chair while he goes around his desk to take his own seat. It's quiet in the office for a brief moment as the two of you adjust yourselves. “So, y/n in regard to your parent's accident, had they mentioned being worried about being followed, feeling watched, were they scared?” 
You clear your throat, “If I’m being completely honest detective Stark I haven't had much contact with my parents since I left home, the only time I had contact - and it was with my mother was when my grandmother passed, it was a brief call.” The detective looks stunned at your admission, “so aside from that call, you’ve had no contact with your parents?” 
You're shaking your head, “no sir, when I left home it wasn’t on great terms, I was advised by my father never to come back,” you’re clearing the knot in your throat, “so I didn’t.” 
“Do you know what your dad did for a living, what you mom did?” Stark questioned needing to dig more, he needed to make sure your words weren’t a false pretense. “No,” your answer comes quick, “my mother was a doting housewife, she upkept the house daily, had dinner made, ran the errands, and absolutely made sure I stayed out my dad's” way.” 
Detective Stark leans forward, “Out of your dad’s way? Why?” You shrug shaking your head, “Mom would just say he was a busy man and buy my silence with a shake and burger from the Diner in town. I wasn’t allowed to ask questions about what my father did, and I definitely wasn’t allowed in his office when the men in suits came over.” 
The man hums, “sounds like your father wanted you to have a very sheltered life.” 
“I'm sure he did,” you agree, “and I guess that’s why as I got older and more curious, he decided at the ripe age of 18 to send me out.”  
“Your father sent you out?” You laugh though it's not humorless, “my curiosity got the better of me,” you hum. Detective Stark leans forward, “did you find what you were looking for?” “If what I was seeking was being thrown out on a cold and rainy night, begging my father to tell me what it was that I had done wrong, begging my mother to please stop my father, then yes I suppose so.” 
“I’m so sorry,” you shake your head, dabbing under your eyes, “It was some time now, I just wish it had been different, to think that my both my parents passed and the last thing I heard from them was, to never return home and I'll call you when your father goes to bed.” 
You weren’t sure why you were spilling as much as you were, the detective didn’t call you in to be your shrink, he called you in for questions regarding the death of your parents. 
“Well, I don’t know how much this information may be of help to you, or if it will be of any help at all to you now,” Detective stark begins, “but we believe that your parent's accident was no accident, but intentional.” 
“Intentional?” you question, “Like somebody had it out for them?” The man’s nodding, “we believe that your father may have crossed a mobster.”  
“A mobster,” you laugh disbelief in your voice, “my - my father, no, no, my mother would have – would have.” Would she?  
You're shaking your head, “you really think my father crossed a mobster?”  
Do the names “Pierce, Rumlow, Barnes, do any of those names ring a bell to you?” You scowered your mind but came up blank, “no, not at all detective Stark, like I mentioned earlier my father made sure I was kept out of his way, and if what you’re saying is the truth, if he really crossed a mobster then I now see why he was so mad that night, but I still can’t wrap my mind around my mother being so okay with him doing that – my mother would have had his head.” 
“I wish I had more for you miss y/l/n, but it seems all this information is new to you,” you nod your head absentmindedly, “listen, I'm not sure how long you’re going to be in town while you settle your parents things, but if I learn anything new, I'll give you a call.” 
“I’d appreciate that detective Stark; I'm beginning to think I should have never come home.” 
The detective doesn’t voice it, but he agrees, “let me see you out, I don’t want to keep you much longer I imagine you have other things you need to get around too.” You’d like to go off about the list of places you need to visit today alone, but your mind is stuck around one thing. You’re dad and the Mob. 
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Exiting the police department you’re hailing another cab, you pull your phone from your pocket to dial the number to Wilson Lending INC, the lines rings once, twice before an answer comes through, “Wilson Lending INC, this is Sam Wilson speaking.” 
“Good afternoon Mr. Wilson this is y/l/n’s daughter, I just arrived in town and was wondering where you would like to meet?” 
There’s rustling on the other end, “Good afternoon, so glad you called me, are you by your parent's estate by chance?” 
“I’m in the area, yes, is that where you’re wanting to meet,” you question, “yes,” he answers rather quickly, “I think it would be the place too meet.” You rattle off the direction of the place you once called home to the awaiting cab driver, “I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes,” you estimate. “Perfect I’ll see you there!” 
The line falls silent as he ends the call, your phone going back into the confines of your jeans as your eyes take to the window. 
Your drive to your parents' estate is slower than your morning drive to the police department, more traffic filling the streets for lunch hour. It takes you a little over fifteen minutes before you pull up to the place you once called home. You're searching for your coin bag to fetch more bills for your cab driver. He takes the money thankfully wishing you a good afternoon which you return as you exit the car with your bag in tow. You watch the cabby drive off before you look at the estate.  
It's the same as when you left, cold, gated, secure. Walking up to the gate you push it open letting yourself in before turning to latch the large, gated wall behind you. You make your way up the vast walkway that leads to the house spotting a sleek black car sitting just at the steps of the estate. You continue up, walking past the car up the steps where you spot a neatly groomed, well suited man, he turns when he hears you, he smiles warmly. 
“Hello,” he greets meeting you, “Sam Wilson, you must be y/l/n’s daughter.” 
“Please call me y/n,” you greet shaking his hand, “it's nice to formally meet you y/n, I’m sorry it had to be under these circumstances though,” you’re nodding, “it’s nice to meet you as well I just wish all of this had been under different circumstances.” 
“I understand, I do as well, if you’d follow me inside, we can get started on all this,” he gestures to his case. 
You’re nodding your agreement allowing the man to lead the way as you follow him in what used to be your family home. Passing the threshold you halt momentarily in the opening, it looked the same but different, now that you stood here. You weren’t sure what made the home you once lived in different, but it didn’t' feel the same as it used to, it was colder now, empty. You’re moving again, following him further down the hall to the one part of the house you were never allowed to step foot in. 
Stepping into your father’s office is a foreign feeling, your feet stopping just short of the entryway as you wait to hear your father’s obstreperous voice scolding you for even thinking of stepping foot in here. Mr. Wilson must take notice of your wariness as he calls for you, his form waiting by your father’s desk. 
“It’s quite alright,” he reassures you from where he stands, “come on in, we won’t be too long, I don’t want to take up too much of your time.” You force one foot in front of the other till you’re joining him at your father’s desk, his hands offering you the seat next to him as he clicks open his case. You don’t allow yourself to get comfortable in the offered chair as you watch him pull things out of the case, sorting through them as he gets them in the right order in which he plans on presenting them. 
Once he’s settled the paperwork his gaze is finding yours “so miss y/l/n, I’m unaware of how much your father let you in to his finances -” 
“My father was a very quiet man with my mother and I,” you cut in, “I didn’t know much of anything when it came to him, he liked keeping us in the dark a lot.” 
The man nods, swallowing, “right, well with that being said I would like to inform you that this home is now foreclosed due to your father’s failure to submit a payment, so any plans you had for this home will unfortunately be placed on hold till payment is made.” 
Your brows raise, “failure to submit payment? How many payments was he behind?” Sam moves forward reaching for a paper that he hands over to you, your eyes flicker over the printed page, “they were behind six months, all attempts at getting in contact with him were unsuccessful.” 
“I - I don’t understand, my mother would have never let my father fall behind, she was the one that made the payments for him,” you say as you meet his gaze. “Well, whatever the case may have been attempts at collecting payments from your father were as I stated before unsuccessful, we are a company very willing to work with its customers on payments but when it’s month after month with no contact we have to take the next step.” 
 “Right, of course,” you agree still trying to wrap your head around as to how your mother let your father fall behind on payments, “and well I had no plans for this home, I only came to finalize my parents' things and then planned on returning back to my place when everything was said and done.” 
Sam’s brows raise, “oh really, so would you say you’re okay with signing this home over to its co-owner?” 
Your brows scrunched, “co-owner?” you questioned, “you mean my mother?” Sam shook his head reaching for another file, “Your father had a co-owner, but it wasn’t your mother.” 
Shock flashes across your features, “but that was my mother - his wife,” you say, “this was their first and last home, plans had been made, surely they would have signed for the loan together, had both their names on the title.” 
“Now while that would have been ideal in any situation, it was not ideal to your fathers plans it seems because alone he did not qualify to even begin the process to home owning, with more challenging lending standards when it comes to an individual’s credit score, debt to income ratio, it was easier to qualify with the individual your father asked to co-own with him, then by himself.” he passes you a page, “or with your mother.” he passes your another. 
Your eyes flicker over the first page handed to you, a credit denial with your father’s name and a bulleted list of reasons, the second page is similar the only added detail is that of your mother's name and credit being run. Your confusion only grows, did you even know your parents at all? 
“So, in terms of this home and my father’s co-owner who apparently wasn’t my mother,” you feel the need to express aloud, “what happens now?” 
“I’m glad you asked, you see it’s difficult to walk away from a mortgage when you have more than one borrower,” he began, “and with your father failing to make his payments,  the co-owner was called upon and has agreed to take over your home,” he pauses, taking a breath making you grow further uncomfortable in the all to cushiony leather seat. “The only thing keeping him from becoming the primary homeowner of this place is the printed fine line in the loan agreement.” You wait for him to continue, “it’s stated in the loan agreement that if a co-owner dies – in this case your father - their share would go to the other owners – your fathers co-owner - but in the co-owner ship a TIC agreement was signed where each original co-owner can pass along their ownership through a will, meaning the remaining tenants might end up sharing the home with someone they never intended to.” 
Sam is leaning forward again producing another letter, he hands it over to you, a will. “And your father in this will, signed over his share to you.” 
The shock is evident in your features, “my dad left me on his will?” 
The man’s chuckling brow raised, “is that really so hard to believe?” 
Your fingers rub over your forehead, squeezing your temples as you look over the will that contained your printed name. “Mr. Wilson my dad and I had a fall out years ago, and if I can be transparent with you I barely even know anything about him it seems, so if signing over my share to the person that co-owns this home with my father is the easiest way to settle this then so be it, I don’t even reside in the area anymore, so I can assure you letting the house go to someone who is more suited for it will be the best thing in this case.” 
“Right, well if you’re certain that is what you want to do, then we will need to arrange a meeting with the co-owner and have both of you come to an agreement which if it is met you will then sign over the estate.” 
You’re nodding, “this is definitely what I want, it’s what’s best, how soon can I meet with the co-owner.” 
Sam’s face for the first time is unreadable as he stands hands reaching for his cellular device, “If you’ll allow me, I can have him here in five.” 
You should have questioned the five-minute part, but you were so eager to check things off your parents to do list that you weren’t thinking, allowing Mr. Wilson to step out and make that call. The silence that followed in the office was all consuming as you pushed to your feet. Your father had hidden this part of himself from you for years, his lies seemingly unfolding one by one before you the more time you spent here. You weren’t sure you knew your father at all. 
You're moving around the desk, fingers gliding over the wooden red oak, papers that you hadn’t noticed before catching your eye, you wondered what else you could find. A manila folder with your name, addressed to a James Barnes catches your eye, your heart skips a beat in your chest as your visit with detective stark earlier comes to mind, the addressed last name catching your attention fully.  
It couldn’t be. 
Deft fingers curl around the folder, your fingers barely slip through the unsealed flap when a knock is causing you to drop the file. You’re caught where you stand behind your father's desk, feet unmoving as the door slowly swings open Mr. Wilson stepping in followed by two more men. You swallow the lump in your throat as cold cerulean blues meet yours.  
You forget to breathe, “Miss y/l/n,” the man murmurs, “so nice to finally meet you I’m James Buchanan Barnes – an ex-friend of your fathers.” 
He must see your need to flee, itching to escape as he snaps his fingers, the door closing behind him, “Sit,” he orders and you can’t help but to look over to Sam who for the first time since meeting cannot meet your eye, “I said sit,” the brunette orders again as he moves forward into the room. The movement has you falling into your father's chair, eyes wide as he closes the distance, his figure looming over you, "you and I have quite a bit to talk about."
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seafoamreadings · 4 months
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What are the differences between sidereal and draconic charts compared to tradition or tropical? What can you use them for and what do they mean?
this is actually a pretty huge topic and something i might write more extensively on later but let's do a rundown here.
what is traditional is going to depend a lot on where you are from and who you learn from. vedic and western tropical are the two most traditonal ones i think, and it seems like you are referring to tropical here, but i want to be clear that's not always the case.
so, tropical: this doesn't take into account the precession of the equinoxes over thousands of years, which is why it no longer lines up with the visible stars. i discuss this in more detail in this book and it's also something you can do your own research on if you wish. in this system each sign is just a thirty-degree chunk of the sky, and the 0 degree of aries is determined by the day of the vernal equinox in the northern hemisphere (autumnal in south) NOT by the actual beginning of the constellation of stars that looks like aries the ram. i do not have any good scientific reason why this method should work better than any other, but my experience is that it is the best, and it is very old and widely used around the world so others must agree! i use this for pretty much everything although i know a thing or two about some other chart systems.
sidereal: DOES account for the precession of the equinoxes and DOES more or less line up with the actual stars as a result. but make no mistake, there's more than one way to do a sidereal chart. for instance, vedic astrology popular in india is one sidereal system. it uses the same 12 zodiac signs as the tropical system i use, but additional information and if i understand right also each sign is 30 degrees so it doesn't line up perfectly with the stars (someone correct me on this if i'm wrong in the replies please~). but there are other sidereal systems that don't have evenly sized signs, or they do but they incorporate eg the 13th sign, ophiuchus. i have written some before about how i feel like these sorts of systems SHOULD be more accurate but in my personal experience never are. the physicist/astronomer in me doesn't like that but whatever, i don't make the rules.
one thing i have heard is that while tropical is best for knowing thyself, sidereal or at least vedic is better for making predictions. i'm digging into that a little bit on my own time but i think tropical does predictions fairly well itself if you know what you're doing! since i am not as well-versed in vedic i still use tropical for my predictions and while i may not know the minute details it never really gets the vibe wrong.
draconic: a bit of a different thing. i offer these readings in my etsy. like everything i do, it varies a little bit from the most traditional/conventional manner. but it seems to work nicely. i think this style of chart has its origin in vedic astrology where the lunar nodes are the head and tail of the dragon, but it seems a lot of people do this chart in a tropical system anyway. it's defined by making the north node the 0 degree of aries and building the rest of the chart around that. so the planets and spacing of everything are the same as in the tropical natal chart, but the signs change. the idea is that this shows you something about your karma, your soul, your overarching personality in a way that is bigger than your personal egoic small self life as you know it. it's very esoteric and cool.
draconic charts are always really similar to natal charts. they are for a *person*. but you can do vedic or tropical charts about an individual, a meeting, a synastry, an event, a horary chart, etc. so that is another difference.
another thing i want to mention which you didn't ask explicitly but might interest you is all of the above are geocentric approaches. you can also do heliocentric astrology! i'm delving into that too because that's one of those things my science brain wants to work so much, lol. it is not widely practiced in the mainstream but astro dienst will generate heliocentric charts if you check off the right boxes. it's fun to play with. the big change is you no longer have a sun sign, you have an earth sign, and it is opposite whatever your natal sun sign is in tropical (eg i'm a taurus sun, but in heliocentric i have my earth in scorpio.)
that seems like a long post but seriously it just scratches the surface. i hope it helps anyway, and maybe spurs some further investigation! thank you for the excellent question <3 will definitely be reblogging this one for posterity~
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andromachism · 9 months
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why my favorite books are my favorite books
the master and margarita, bulgakov.
This was the first book I read when the pandemic started. I picked it up because of the person I liked at the time. I don't like that person anymore, but I love the book. It's a political satire with religious and supernatural fantasy elements. It’s a love story. It’s a love letter to literature. It’s the author's testimony and cry for help due to the censorship he faced. This book is everything. It brought back my pleasure for reading after doing it solely out of obligation for 3 years and for that alone it will always hold a special place in my heart. Also, the demonic black cat is really cool!
death with interruptions, saramago.
Saramago is my all-time favorite writer, and this is not my favorite book of his (that's Cain), but it is the first one I read, and I think it was the perfect introduction. It’s such a funny, beautiful, and sensitive story—unexpectedly romantic without losing Saramago’s usual sarcastic political criticism. It also incorporates some supernatural fantasy elements, as it is about Death taking a vacation. I like to read it when I want something with his style but lighter and quicker than his usual pace. I called it a perfect introduction to Saramago, but honestly, I think it’s just perfect.
(By the way, it’s quite interesting that when Saramago writes about everyone going blind or everyone stopping voting, something extremely tragic and almost dystopian happens, but when people stop dying, he decides to write a romance.)
posthumous memoirs of bras cubas, machado de assis.
Machado is everything to me. I was reading his books before I could properly understand his Portuguese, and much less what he was talking about. But as I grew up and fully understood him, this particular one got me in a chokehold. It's another story about death, but in this case, the deceased main character decides to write his memoir. It's satirical and obviously with supernatural elements. I love how Machado ridicules the elite society of his time while masking it with a likable protagonist who is actually an awful person and a completely mediocre human. So many parts of this story were crucial in my development as an adult, like when the protagonist memorizes quotes from famous authors to appear intellectual (something to be said about those annoyingly pretentious people writing essays about how bad everything popular is and quoting the same authors left and right). (Besides all of that, there is a chapter where a black butterfly flies into Bras' bedroom and lands on his father's portrait. A few chapters later, his father dies. A day before my grandfather died, a black butterfly flew into my room, and then his requiem mass happened on the day of Saint Blaise of Sebaste, who is called ‘Brás’ in Portuguese. This coincidence shook me to a point that will always make this book extremely personal to me.)
frankenstein, mary shelley.
As brilliant as Shelley is, this one is one of my favorites because it shaped me as a human being. When I first read it, I was 16 years old, struggling with my gender identity, sexuality, and body. Because of that, my relationship with my father fluctuated between non-existent and hateful. I was different, that was clear to everyone, and he hated it. So, reading about that creature was an enlightening experience about myself. I, too, felt like a creature—hateful and constructed with someone else’s parts, with none of it ever feeling truly mine. Frankenstein was to me what Paradise Lost was to the creature. I feel like a creation, wretched, helpless, and alone.
a storm of swords, grrm.
I list 'Death with Interruptions' as one of my favorites because of the author, and this one because of the genre. I love fantasy in all its forms, from small elements of it used as plot devices to high fantasy with extensive world-building and fictional beasts. A Song of Ice and Fire is my all-time favorite fantasy series, and A Storm of Swords is my favorite book in it, so it makes sense that this is the high fantasy representative on my list. Robb’s struggles and ultimate downfall will always be ingrained in my mind. The absolute dreadful feeling I got when I read, 'No one sang the words, but Catelyn knew “The Rains of Castamere” when she heard it,' cannot be replicated by any other work of fiction, I believe.
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fishdetective · 10 months
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once i start thinking about alaska i find it difficult to stop, and tonight i find myself thinking about the kindness of two separate forklift drivers in the very early hours of two difficult very early mornings for me. in january 2021 i returned to the dock after my very first trip as a fisheries observer. as you might imagine, this was an incredibly stressful trip performing a new job that i had received extensive training for, but obviously it's very different to actually go out on a commercial fishing boat in the bering sea and do your job all alone for the first time. it was about 4 in the morning when i got back, and i remember immediately talking to my sibling on the phone as soon as we docked. i don't remember if i called them or they called me. found out about the whole january 6th thing during that short call which was wild. anyway, it was massively blizzarding out, but i had to get off the boat right away, partially because i did not understand that process of anything at all, and partially because they were going back out right away, and i was only on board for one trip. called a taxi to take me to the hotel, and discovered that none of the taxis were running due to the blizzard. there was also no way i could walk there in this blizzard dragging my 80 pounds of observer gear plus my backpack and duffel bag on top of it. the cannery still had its covid restrictions in full effect and they straight up would not let me into any of the buildings. probably could have pushed the issue but i cannot stress enough how out of my depth and unmoored i was at this point in time due to my life experiences. so i'm wandering around this cannery during a blizzard at like 6am and at this point i am completely convinced i am going to freeze to death out there. i've called my boss in charge of my travel stuff and they're trying to get someone who can pick me up but obviously this is difficult. right now thinking about this it seems absurd to me that i was worried about freezing to death while surrounded by inhabited buildings, but the combination of the terror of being in a new place so entirely unlike anything i had ever known + the year 2020 had completely eroded what few social skills i had so whatever it was tragically like that. i'm desperately asking any passerby i can for help and i stop this forklift driver who did not speak very much english but i manage to convey my situation to him and he lets me into this heated shed, where there were no lights, but i could wait the three hours it took for my boss to get some random person to come drive me to the hotel. my work issued flip phone was almost dead and my regular phone didn't get service on this island, so they were a stressful few hours of praying that my intermittent communications with my boss didn't kill my cell battery before someone could come get me.
second great kindness done to me at six am by a forklift driver happened a year and a half later, in a different fishing town. i was making my way from the docks to the hotel after a miserable midnight to six am salmon offload monitoring session, dragging my 80+ pounds of work gear plus my personal gear along docks that were basically designed to topple my precariously balanced gear (they make the wheels way too small). a forklift driver came and picked up all my stuff and drive me off the cannery's campus and all the way up the extremely steep gravel hill to the tiny little motel. would have been miserably difficult to drag my gear up that hill. i think this one happened at least twice and maybe three times, always at 6am for some god forsaken reason. i've never cut open a salmon during daylight hours i think.
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brrambleroses · 2 years
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I’m thinking about Hunter again
WARNING: Mentions of abuse and manipulation, anxiety attacks, unsanitary living and eating conditions
At this point I think I might’ve made it evidently clear that I really like this lad, and as such, my love language is using copious amounts of words to write out thoughts I have about characters I like very much. Labyrinth Runners gave me a lot to work with, and I’m not tired enough to go to sleep, so!
It’s been two weeks since Hollow Mind premiered, and by extension, two weeks since we last saw Hunter. Last week’s episode, Edge of the World, was focused on the other side of the aftermath after the incident in Belos’s mind: what was going on with Luz. With this episode comes some more answers, mainly: what happened to Hunter after he fled the Owl House?
There was a lot of speculation of what could’ve happened to him, the main conclusion for many being that he had found Raine, Darius, and Eberwolf in the forest, with other suggestions including him returning to the Owl House, or trying to contact Willow to ask for her assistance. However, it appears that the result was actually none of these, but rather Hunter returning to Hexside.
Exposition out of the way, let’s move on to the episode!
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Within the first few minutes, we can come to the conclusion that Hunter is in Hexside, not through spotting Hunter himself, but rather through seeing Flapjack emerge from a trash-can, a discarded sandwich held in his beak. Gus recognizes Flapjack immediately, and upon him doing so, Flapjack drops the sandwich and flies off.
Based on how quickly Flapjack flew off, and him dropping the sandwich while doing so, it’s clear that he wasn’t meant to be spotted by Gus, and dropping the sandwich is a way for him to fly quicker, the weight of the sandwich would only slow him down. As far as I know, palismen don’t need to eat, and even if they did, a half-eaten sandwich would probably be very low on their eating priorities, since they’re so little and could get anything else with ease.
Based on Hunter’s living conditions we see a few moments later, it can be inferred that Flapjack was getting the sandwich for Hunter. The sandwich looks absolutely disgusting, but it’s likely the best food Hunter can get at the moment. There would be a very high chance of him getting spotted if he tried to scavenge for some himself, and Flapjack can only carry so much due to his small size. Going out at night could be a possibility, but at that point the trash has likely already been taken out, and any leftover food would be cleaned to prevent vermin from building nests (since animals, especially rats, will build nests near food sources).
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Gus chases down Flapjack quickly using his staff, and manages to be quick enough to see Flapjack entering the Paranoratorium, which is under construction. Flapjack didn’t show signs of hesitation or waiting for Gus, which meant he was attempting to get away from him. However, in doing so, Flapjack accidentally ended up leading Gus to where Hunter was hiding. Flapjack could’ve flown directly into the room to alert Hunter, see if Hunter was still there, or maybe he just didn’t know the inside of Hexside that well due to him and Hunter mostly being outside during their previous times.
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When Gus enters the Paranoratorium, he searches around for Flapjack, but ends up getting startled by Hunter instead. Hunter has a new injury in the form of a possible scratch mark on his cheek, and at this point, we can see that Hunter isn’t even wearing the Golden Guard armor he was previously wearing when he ran away at the end of Hollow Mind, and is instead wearing his Emerald Entrails uniform, completed with a patched-up cloak. Hunter has seemingly ditched his old armor, which he could’ve done for a multitude of different reasons: it could’ve served as a reminder of his Golden Guard position, something traumatic for him (by continuing to wear it, there’s a chance it could potentially trigger another panic attack, especially through the familiar weight of the armor, or possibly being too tight, leading to restricted breathing when panicked). He could’ve ditched it for the Flyer Derby uniform, which he associates with more positive and comforting memories (the material also seems to be much looser, especially if it’s similar to real-life sports uniforms, which are made with polyester, purposefully designed to be breathable and to allow air flow). There’s also a strong chance he ditched it to prevent people from recognizing him too, which is accompanied with the cloak that's able to cover up most of him if needed (the lack of a mask is beneficial to Hunter as well, since few people outside the Emperor’s coven are able to recognize him due to him rarely showing his face). It could even be all of these reasons and more, since there tends to be a lot of contributing factors relating to what people decide to do, especially if they’re currently in a delicate situation. Sometimes all those reasons could be unclear to the person themselves, but they’re just doing what they think is the best option in the moment (although some options are hastily chosen during panic, in a desperate moment to get out of the current moment).
Hunter and Gus both know each other from their previous encounter, but they don’t have a close bond, and are distrustful of one another. Hunter attempts to threaten Gus, though with intimidation rather than force. At this point, Hunter is likely aware that he’s not in a position to fight, especially since that would compromise his makeshift hideout, not only to Gus, but to the whole school as well (noise tends to carry through school halls), so scaring Gus into keeping quiet, or making him run away, is the best option he can go with. Gus does take the bait, but switches into a defensive position, ready to counterattack if Hunter does decide to initiate combat. Before the situation can escalate in any way, Hunter hears something falling over in his little room, his eyes going wide as he realizes that he failed to keep his hideout a secret. Gus looks behind him, noticing the little area, and the current state it’s in.
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There’s a tattered sleeping bag, clearly stained, a worn-out bag with papers spilling out of it, several books scattered along the floor, multiple bags of hex mix and juice boxes (it even looks like one of them spilled onto the floor), a broom, and what appears to be a tied-up trashbag. Hunter’s hideout isn’t clean in the slightest, and with several of his belongings being stained (including his pants), it doesn’t seem sanitary in the slightest. On top of the condition of the hideout itself, Hunter decided to make it in the Paranoratorium, a room closed off for repairs, which forbids any student from entering, and by extension, keeps the teachers away too. The only people who would have any reason to enter would be the repairers, but considering that Hunter’s belongings are in disarray as if he’s been active in there, they haven’t gone into the room anytime lately. Otherwise, Principle Bump and the other teachers would’ve been notified, even if they found Hunter there or not. By choosing a secluded room, it would limit the risk of Hunter getting caught or discovered by anyone, student or teacher.
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Hunter tries shielding his hideout from Gus, looking embarrassed at the fact that Gus caught a glimpse of it. Gus still remains in a defensive position, but becomes more relaxed, no longer confrontational, but rather concerned, and asks Hunter what he’s doing here. Firm, but not angry. Though Hunter doesn’t answer at first, Flapjack tugs at his hair, causing Hunter to loosen up due to the sudden distraction from his own thoughts (the slight pain from Flapjack pulling on his strand was enough for the barrier Hunter was putting up around his thoughts to crumble a bit. He’s still cautious, but no longer as guarded as before). Hunter’s body language also changes as well, going from upright and tense, to a more nervous pose, his hands tending to remain close to him, even when he dramatically gestures and fidgets with them slightly. Many people mess around with their hands and arms when they feel anxious, and someone folding their arms can even be a sign of nervousness or discomfort.
"Truth is, my living situation has been... compromised. Maybe! So I just need a place to crash. Temporarily! Hexside... was the only place I could think of."
Hunter answers Gus’s question, but does it in a very vague way. He’s slow with speaking, only quickly cutting in a few times, yet by the end, his voice is quieter. Hunter is giving the basic laydown of the situation, but he’s not going into detail, even pausing to think about what he should say in regards to his home life. It’s also important to note that after almost every confession he makes, he quickly cuts in with another addition, saying it louder than anything else. Considering how guarded he is on the subject, it could be a way for him to make Gus believe that he’s in a better position than he really is, coupled with him still struggling with trusting what he saw in Belos’s mind, his thoughts likely contradicting themselves here.
Gus asks about Luz’s location, which surprises Hunter, considering that not only did he last see her with Eda, but that Luz and Eda live together. Before that line of conversation can continue, Principle Bump calls everyone to the gym. The last thing Gus does is give Hunter his lunch bag, filled with a sandwich and some fruit.
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"I'm not sure what you're going through, but that much hex mix can't be good for your stomach."
Gus admits that he doesn’t know what’s going on with Hunter, but he can infer from Hunter’s hideout alone that Hunter isn’t exactly living on a healthy diet at the moment. Gus then runs off, and Hunter quietly watches him go, looking surprised at the kind gesture.
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The next time we see Hunter is after Gus’s illusions take over the gym, where Hunter uses Graye’s distracted state to rescue Gus. He appears behind Graye and Gus, and pulls Gus away from Graye, and deeper into the illusions. After running for a while, the two crash into a locker, causing them to pause, and take in their false surroundings. Hunter notices Gus’s eye is glowing, and asks him about it, looking worried once Gus explains how he’s unable to control it, though he appears to be more concerned for Gus over worrying about the widespread illusion.
Despite his previous desire to keep hidden, once Hunter hears that Gus can’t stop his mass illusions, he immediately suggests that they go find a teacher, saying that they might know how to help. By Hunter rescuing Gus and then helping him look for a teacher, Gus feels prompted to ask why Hunter is helping him, even though they were antagonistic just moments before.
"Hunter, why'd you save me back there? From getting a sigil. Don't those guys work for you?"
"I owed you. ...for the food.”
Despite Hunter saying he was paying Gus back for the meal, that doesn’t seem to be the case. Hunter is using the food Gus gave him as an excuse to assist Gus, and when he says it, it’s noticeably quieter than his first statement, like it was tacked on at the end. Gus’s questions towards Hunter are very broad, and with Hunter’s difficult mental state, he could end up saying a lot of things he doesn’t even know what to make of. It’s a big struggling point in his life at the moment, it would naturally be very difficult to talk about. On top of that, Hunter still doesn’t trust Gus. Not because he thinks Gus is a bad person, but rather because he doesn’t trust himself with what’s going on in his head that he wants to keep from spilling out. However, Gus still tries to get answers from him, wanting to understand what Hunter meant.
"When we first met, you were trying to trick me into joining a coven, and now you're helping me stay away from one, 'cause of a... sandwich?"
“It was a good sandwich.”
While asking about what Hunter meant, Gus reaches out a hand for Hunter to take so Gus could help him back up after Hunter had fallen. Hunter’s eyes dart to the hand for a second, before he hoists himself up, knocking Gus’s hand away. Hunter’s actions are actually in-tune with what he’s been telling Gus. Hunter is cautious about sharing what he’s thinking, and by extension, that makes him guarded and closed off, with only slight details coming through with what he says. He doesn’t want to talk about it directly, but he alludes to things happening. Alongside that, he pushes away any assistance, because accepting it would also be admitting to him having a tougher time than he lets on. He used to be the Golden Guard, and Gus knows that. For Hunter to show weakness in front of Gus here, it would clue Gus into what potentially happened to him, something Hunter doesn’t want to share. Hunter also doubles down on the sandwich excuse, as if he’s insisting it was because of that.
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"No sandwich is that good. C'mon, if we wanna find a way through this, we need to trust each other. What's going on with you?"
Despite Hunter’s attempts to brush off Gus’s questions though, Gus has figured out at this point that something is definitely wrong, and he wants to know if Hunter is okay. As Gus speaks to him, Hunter appears unamused, solid in his excuse and his reasoning. However, when Gus asks Hunter what’s going on with him, Hunter pauses, and hesitantly looks back at Gus after nervously glancing to the side. Gus wasn’t asking about anything else there, but was rather asking about Hunter himself. Before now, all of Gus’s questions revolved around Hunter’s connections or past (and were accusatory when they first encountered each other), but now Gus expresses his solid willingness to listen, which actually makes Hunter consider it. Hunter even almost opens up to Gus a bit before the two are attacked by coven scouts.
Hunter immediately leaps to defend Gus and to attack the scouts, who end up managing to restrain him in abomination goo, also trapping Gus with vines as well. Upon looking at Hunter’s face, the scouts recognize him as the Golden Guard and proceed to let him go, apologising for restraining him, and then telling him that Belos has been looking for him.
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"Our deepest apologies, sir, the Emperor sent out a search party for you. He's been worried sick!"
"You don't say..."
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Upon hearing this news, Hunter becomes even more nervous, averting his eyes as he begins to sweat. He even hunches over a little, which people tend to instinctively do when they’re scared as an attempt to make themselves as small as possible so they aren’t noticed by predators (the people who are currently scaring them). Even as the scouts continue talking to Hunter, he keeps looking away from them, becoming even more worried as they keep talking. By the time Gus breaks free and activates a fire glyph, Hunter is full-on shaking, trying to stammer out a solid response to the scouts, and even gritting his teeth together as if he was attempting to force a smile. He’s stunned for a moment after the fire startles him, but Gus quickly snaps him out of it and the two begin running away. They end up ducking into another room, which throws the scouts off their trails.
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"Oh, Titan! He's looking for me! He'll know I'm here! I- I- I gotta run! I- I gotta hide! I g- I g-"
As soon as the two of them are safe though, Hunter starts showing signs of a rising anxiety attack, causing him to begin hyperventilating, stumbling, tugging at his hair, and hiding his face in his hands after attempting to sit down. Gus places a hand on Hunter’s shoulder, which startles him, making him raise his head, and allowing him to focus on Gus. Once Hunter is looking at him, Gus attempts to try a breathing exercise with him, one that Willow taught Gus how to use for when he gets anxiety spikes, which are meant to ground him and slowly bring him back to reality. Hunter slowly follows along with Gus’s exercise, managing to calm down, and being brought back into the present moment. Although the breathing exercise worked with Hunter, sometimes it doesn’t work for some people. When people are struggling through anxiety attacks, there is no solid works-for-everyone with them. Even breathing exercises, which is the most common one to use, can sometimes not work for someone (for example, breathing exercises have never helped me, they just make me more stressed, and someone trying to touch me for reassurance makes it worse). It all depends on the person who’s having the anxiety attack.
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"Did... you run away from the Emperor's Coven? …why?"
With Hunter calmed down, Gus tries to figure out the situation, gently asking Hunter if he’s a runaway. Hunter doesn’t verbally respond to this, but he slightly nods in confirmation. Gus attempts to follow this up by asking why he did so, and Hunter opens his mouth, as if he’s about to speak, but then he shoots Gus a glare and looks away, resting his head on his folded arms. Hunter still doesn’t feel comfortable enough to open up to Gus the whole story, and with him glaring at Gus, it seems like he’s trying to put up his defences again. The lack of a response to Gus’s second question could also be because it’s too broad, and would require Hunter to think too deeply about something he doesn’t even know if it’s a lie or not. Hunter did answer Gus’s first question, but he did so nonverbally, and he was able to do so through it being phrased as a “yes or no” question.
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"...not too long ago, when I showed a little talent and started taking more advanced classes, it always felt like anyone who wanted to be my friend, had an ulterior motive. Until I met Willow. And, eventually Luz, and some others. So yeah, not everybody's great. But, not everyone's bad, either, y'know? For what it's worth, you can trust me. I promise not to mess with you."
"That's not worth anything. Stop acting foolish."
"Alright, tough guy. Let's keep moving then."
Even though Hunter doesn’t answer Gus the second time, Gus doesn’t push it. Instead, he opens up to Hunter, talking about some of his own insecurities. As Gus speaks, Hunter lifts his head to face him, showing that he’s listening closely to what Gus is saying, even watching as Gus goes over to look at the pictures he has up on his wall of him and the others. When Gus tells Hunter that he promises not to mess with him, that’s Gus’s way of saying that he trusts Hunter, since people messing with Gus is something he’s scared of. Gus expressing his own fears is him opening up to Hunter when Hunter is vulnerable, trying to connect with him through sharing his own troubles, since Hunter has a hard time expressing his own. Even though Hunter says it’s not worth anything, it clearly is. Hunter still has his walls up to try and keep his thoughts in check, but he was closely listening to what Gus had to say. Hunter trying to deny what Gus said is him attempting to protect himself, keeping himself from talking about his own issues. Despite Hunter rejecting what Gus said, Gus makes a lighthearted joke, and says they should keep moving. Before Hunter follows him though, he looks at Gus’s pictures, showing that he might actually have faith in what Gus said to him.
When Hunter and Gus make it out of the illusion, Gus attempts a high-five with Hunter, who pauses for a moment, but tries to follow through. They spot Willow heading down the hallway, and Gus immediately rushes over, hugging her. Upon seeing Hunter, Willow instantly becomes defensive, but Gus calms her down, telling her that Hunter’s cool, and that he ran away from the Emperor’s Coven. Gus also makes a comment about how Hunter hasn’t showered, which can mean that not only does Hunter smell due to living in a poor environment after he ran away, but also means that Hunter hasn’t had time to bathe since prior to Hollow Mind, likely due to a lack of proper facilities where he wouldn’t be caught.
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“Have you ever seen her play Flyer Derby? There’s no way she’d be afraid of me.”
Despite Gus’s enthusiasm at seeing Willow, Hunter realizes that something feels off, and confronts her, demanding to know who she really is. Willow acts scared, and though Gus is ready to defend her at first, Hunter points out that both he and Gus both have seen Willow play Flyer Derby, which is notorious for being a dangerous sport, and Willow has faced danger while playing head-on. It turns out this Willow was an illusion, and after Graye turns to confront the two, they quickly run off.
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However, before Hunter and Gus can escape, Belos intercepts them. Belos appearing causes Hunter to freeze in panic, leaving him vulnerable enough for Graye to kick him in the head, knocking him to the ground, and then pinning him down with his foot while he grabs Gus. With Hunter and Gus incapacitated, Belos is revealed to be an illusion as well, revealing two coven scouts. With the fake Belos gone, Hunter is able to order the scouts to stop for just a moment, but Graye’s authority overrides Hunter’s own, as he reiterates that Belos wants him back. Hunter tries to fight them off, putting up a good enough fight that forces the scouts to put Hunter to sleep (though one of them almost accidentally kills him instead), the last thing Hunter sees being Gus held captive.
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Hunter awakes in the infirmary, with Skara and Viney watching over him. When he spots Willow, he instantly begins to panic, thinking that it’s another illusion based on his last experiences with “Willow”, and calls out for Gus. After Hunter falls due to his injuries, he’s helped up by the two girls, who reassure him that he’s not in an illusion. Bump approaches him, referring to Hunter by his Golden Guard title, and after Hunter hesitates for a moment, he tells Bump his real name. Bump tells Hunter that the Flyer Derby team were the ones who insisted on saving him from being taken away, causing Hunter to look at Skara and Viney in surprise, which makes them smile back at him.
"That's the Golden Guard?"
"Dude looks sickly."
With the revelation that Hunter is the Golden Guard, many of the students and teachers are distrustful of him due to his reputation and affiliations, but Edric and Emira are simply surprised at his appearance, Emira even pointing out his unexpected appearance. It’s no secret at all that Hunter isn’t the typical person that people would picture upon hearing the title, especially since Hunter doesn’t look physically well. Even before running away from the Emperor’s Coven, he was described as scrawny, always had bags underneath his eyes, and generally appeared unwell. These things about him might’ve gotten even worse after running away, depending on how much sleep he was getting and how much he was eating (looking at his conditions, he probably got even less of it than he previously had).
When Hunter realizes that nobody trusts him, he starts insisting that he’s not with Graye, and that he was trying to bring Gus to them. He is actually telling the truth here, as we’ve seen, but the teachers and students still don’t believe him. They even suggest trading Hunter in exchange for Gus, mentioning how Belos wanted Hunter back. Hunter looks scared at this suggestion, and begins rambling off things he did with Gus to try and convince them to believe him. Currently, not only does he want to help rescue Gus, but by them bringing Belos into it, Hunter has to convince them not only for Gus’s sake, but for his own life on the line. Nobody knows what Belos will do to Hunter if he’s taken back, they’re all convinced that Belos probably misses him and wants him safe. Thankfully, Willow stands up for Hunter, solidifying that Hunter is telling the truth once he brings up the breathing technique that Gus taught him. She even says he’ll fight for the school, which he quickly agrees to, and explains to everyone what he heard Graye say.
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Hunter and the others lead an attack on the scouts guarding the gym, which proves successful. After they’re all presumably defeated, he rushes inside the gym to get to Gus, prepared to fight Graye and anyone else in there. Upon entering though, he sees Gus having lost control of his illusion power again, trapping him in his own mind. Unfortunately, one of the seemingly defeated coven scouts called upon an abomaton, which Amity and Willow decide to fight together while telling Hunter to go help Gus. Hunter is stunned for a moment, asking how he’s supposed to do that, but he gets no response, the two already engaging in combat. Despite the lack of direction, Hunter heads for the memory sphere, and tries to enter it.
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When Hunter touches it, his mind is instantly flooded with intense memories of the deceased Golden Guards he saw in Belos’s mind, Belos killing palismen, Belos almost injuring him, and other foul memories he’s gained throughout his life. Hunter has suffered from Belos’s abuse his whole life, and the iron grip Belos had on his mentality was terrifyingly strong. Even though the things he saw in Belos’s mind were horrific enough, now knowing the undeniable truth, if he ever attempted to look back on any memory he had with Belos before Hollow Mind, Hunter would be forced to think about it in a new perspective. The reality of the situation, where he knows for certain that Belos wouldn’t be afraid to hurt Hunter if he wanted to.
Even though the force of his horrible memories pains Hunter, he still tries to get Gus, a look of determination on his face as he forces his way through the sphere again. Hunter does reach him, placing a hand on Gus’s shoulder, similar to how Gus tried to comfort Hunter before. When Hunter touches him, however, he’s transported into Gus’s mind, where he sees Gus’s internal thoughts take shape, the ones that Gus was telling Hunter about earlier, and Hunter calls out for Gus repeatedly.
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"I can't even trust myself anymore."
When Gus’s mind finally stops shifting through locations and scenarios, he and Hunter end up in the same room as before, where Gus told Hunter that he trusted him. Gus has been through a lot of self-doubt and has a lot of trust issues bottled up inside of him. Even though he shared them with Hunter, probably with Willow too, they’re still there. It’s not that easy for it to go away, and it’s something Gus has been struggling with this whole time.
"It's... hard, when you can't trust yourself. I've spent my whole life believing that I was doing something good for someone good. But it was a lie. And some part of me still wants to believe in that lie. Just like how you want to believe that you're dumb or whatever. But it's not true. I promise. I wouldn't mess with you."
And it’s something Hunter is very familiar with. Belos’s manipulation of Hunter was so ingrained into every aspect of Hunter’s life. From Hunter’s very existence, to the way he sees himself, to his relationships with those around him, what Belos would do and say to Hunter heavily impacted every single part of him. Realizing that Belos was lying this whole time, and that now Belos would have no hesitation in killing him? It’s a horrifying thought on its own, but Hunter has to face that reality while simultaneously thinking of all the years he spent looking up to his “uncle”, and how he wanted nothing more than to please him. Hunter never made friends, Belos was the only one he could ever really call himself close to, and now? Learning that all that was fake? Of course Hunter would doubt if it was true sometimes. He has to adjust to a completely new worldview, one he doesn’t even know if it’s solidly the “right” one. Hunter’s a good kid, but sometimes he feels like he can’t even trust himself. Just like how Gus feels like he can’t trust himself.
Hunter opens up to Gus about his own thoughts, and what he’s been struggling with this whole time, while also comforting Gus about his own insecurities. Hunter also repeats what Gus had told him earlier, and states that he wouldn’t mess with Gus, therefore returning the trust that Gus had extended to Hunter earlier. Hunter also tries to mimic the breathing technique that Gus showed him, but doesn’t do it correctly, causing him to whistle instead of breathing out slowly, making Gus laugh, and allowing the memory sphere to disappear.
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Willow notices that Gus is okay, and runs to him, the two locking themselves in a big hug. Hunter attempts to walk by them, but is instantly dragged into the hug too, which surprises him, but he doesn’t seem to hate it, although hugs are unfamiliar to him.
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After the scouts depart with Graye, Hunter and Gus share a laugh together, but they’re interrupted by the other students rushing forward to ask Hunter questions. Though Hunter looks nervous at first, Gus gives him an encouraging smile, which makes Hunter confident enough to answer. He takes a deep breath, then begins to explain what he knows.
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Hunter has been through a lot since Hollow Mind ended, and it’s clear he’s still trying to find his footing, but now he has people around him who he can trust, and they’re people who trust in him too. With the upcoming episodes, he’ll certainly struggle with more difficult thoughts, especially once Belos himself needs to be dealt with, but for now, he’s finally getting a chance to heal.
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totallywizard · 1 year
Text
Lucky Stars (2)
Here's the second chapter of this story (because I've found new motivation to keep writing it).
To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what direction this is going in story-wise, I mainly just have a lot of ideas that I need to pick and choose from in a way that makes sense. I guess we'll see where this road leads!
This chapter takes place sometime during early season two (except for a brief part at the end, after the page break).
Warnings: Nothing to worry about (I think).
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CHAPTER II: Crossed Paths
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Believe it or not, Canto Bight had a library.
And why in the galaxy would a city like Canto Bight, a playground for the wealthy, have something as tame and mediocre as a library?
Well, not all of the city’s buildings could be casinos, ractracks, cantinas, clubs, resorts, and hotels.
Nova, understandably, was shocked to learn such a thing. In fact, she’d refused to believe that this library actually existed until she was standing right outside its ornate glass doors. It was there, alright---and just like everything else in that chaotic city, it was way too extravagant.
It was without a doubt the fanciest library she’d ever seen. The place was so lavish that it didn’t even look like a library from the outside. She’d of course prefer this place’s extensive archives to some one-room, run-down old shop, but still…the whole thing was ridiculous. She was surprised that there wasn’t a sabacc table to be seen in the whole building.
She’d decided to revisit a different approach to her “finding my brother” problem. Instead of finding a solution through the Force and other means, which hadn’t been working so far, perhaps there was a solution to be found in lore and scientific facts? If she learned all she could about purrgil and hyperspace travel, then maybe she’d get closer to figuring out where he could be. At the very least she might figure out, conceivably, how far into space it was possible to go in those very specific conditions.
A part of her was afraid of what she would find. But she had to look.
And why a library on Catonica, of all places? Well…it had been the closest system at the time. She wasn’t sure she had the patience to go all the way to Coruscant for this, and even if she did, she’d already been to more archives there than she could count.
At the moment, Nova was walking through a wide, busy street in search of an inn. After spending nearly all day in Canto Bight’s library staring at datapads and monitors, she was more than ready for a good night’s rest. She’d actually remained here longer than she’d originally intended, hence the need to find suitable lodging for the night—something cheap, but still with a decent bunk to collapse into.
Even in a heavily crowded city such as this, Nova wasn’t too concerned with there being no available rooms---at least, not at the small inns. The majority of beings that came here were elite and wealthy in at least some capacity, and so would flock to the fancy hotels and resorts that were on every street corner. That left the smaller, not-so-grand inns more accessible to those with fewer credits (like her).
But since there were so many expensive hotels around, local inns were a bit few and far between. The problem wasn't a lack of places to stay, but in actually finding a cheap one.
Nova was trying to navigate through the mess of neon signs that littered every wall and building. She read each one, trying to find a place labeling itself as anything resembling an inn. Staring at such bright lights after staring at screens and holos all day practically guaranteed that she’d get a headache later, but what choice did she have?
The signs seemed to go on forever, and the same words were repeated too many times to count. Shop… Shop… Club… Fortune teller… Club… Br--- Yikes, that was definitely not a family-friendly place… Another shop… Speeder vendor…
“Outta the way!”
The outcry was loud enough to be clearly heard over the buzz of chatter filling the busy street, and therefore drew most of the attention. Nova stopped walking and turned toward where it had emanated (and was honestly glad for any reason to stop staring at those stupid neon signs). She was mildly surprised to see a blue-ish Rodian shoving his way through the people in the street, clearly running from something. He didn’t look completely terrified of whatever he was running from, but he did have a sort of cocky demeanor about him. Seeing others being shoved out of his way, people began to move from his path.
“Too quick for you, bounty hunter!” he shouted behind him as he ran.
Yeah, definitely cocky.
A bounty being chased through the streets of Canto Bight was nothing new. As Nova understood it, it actually happened quite often. Bounties probably thought they could get lost in a city like this, making it really hard for their enemies to find them.
The bounty hunter the Rodian had been jeering at was quick to appear around the same corner he’d come from. When Nova caught sight of him, she immediately did a double-take.
It was that shiny Mandalorian! The one from Alun.
Well, it was possible it was someone else---but what other Mandalorian had she ever met with beskar armor that shiny and new? His presence felt familiar, too.
Nova found herself glad to see him. If he was here, then his little green Yoda-child couldn’t be far behind, right? The possibility of seeing the child again made her lips quirk upward.
The Mandalorian, taller and bigger than the scrawny Rodian he chased, was quickly closing in on his quarry. Nova found herself intently watching it unfold, on the edge of her imaginary seat. Once the crowds had cleared enough and the space between them was clear, the Mandalorian threw out his arm. A whipcord shot out of his vambrace, heading right for the Rodian’s legs.
Nova thought the Rodian was done for, but apparently he was ready for it. Just as the whipcord was about to wrap around his legs, the Rodian pushed a button on his wrist cuff. Immediately, small boosters activated on his boots--rocket boots, apparently--and he was launched up into the air. The whipcord wrapped around open air, and the Rodian laughed from where he was hovering several feet off the ground.
“Hah!” he laughed. “Missed me!”
What Nova ended up doing next was purely an act of instinct. With a subtle wave of her hand at her side, she used the pull of the Force to grab hold of one of the boosters of the Rodian’s rocket boots. A small flick of her wrist, and the thing was crushed.
The booster immediately died, and the mechanism began sparking. With only one boot working now, it was more of a hindrance than an asset, and the Rodian was quickly thrown off balance. He went lurching to the left, crying out as the one booster propelled him sideways in the air. He made to land as soon as he could, although it was difficult with the one working boot constantly tripping him up.
By the time he’d managed to touch the ground again--collapsing more than landing--the Mandalorian was waiting for him. He quickly grabbed and detained the Rodian, successfully capturing his bounty. Some enthusiastic onlookers even applauded him.
It all happened so fast. Nova had reacted before her mind could catch up with what she was doing. She’d just…felt this overwhelming instinct to help, and the Force took over. It certainly wasn’t the first time it had happened, and would no-doubt not be the last.
Still, Nova didn’t wish to draw any attention. As much as a part of her wanted to speak to the shiny Mandalorian again–as visiting with him might mean she’d get to see the little green guy–she knew it would be safest if she just left unseen. Nobody had noticed her use of the Force, or any connection between her and the Rodian’s sudden bad luck. She wanted to keep it that way. The Empire’s remnants were on her scent. In a heavily populated world such as this, who knew how many informants they might have? You never knew where they could be nowadays. Plus, according to her intel, there was that new organization that’d recently formed that put up the front of being a science research group but in reality had been commissioned by a Moff and didn’t want anybody to know it so that the Empire could secretly operate through them---
Yeah, time to go.
So as the Mandalorian handled his quarry–he seemed to be handing him off to the local authorities, perhaps they’d offered a reward to hunt the Rodian down–Nova turned and quietly slipped away before she could be noticed.
Or, well…she tried to.
Nova only made it a few steps toward the next bright neon sign when she heard a very familiar coo. Even though the ambient crowded-street noise was slowly returning, she could still make out that little sound. Turning, she looked down and saw none other than the green wrinkly Yoda-child waddling over to her as fast as his little feet could carry him. She sensed recognition and excitement from him, and it did well to warm her heart. Despite being noticed before she could slip away, she had to smile as she saw the child again.
Oh well, she thought, conceding. “Hey, green bean!” she enthusiastically greeted him. 
As soon as she knelt down to his level, he came barreling into her outstretched hands. He was all too happy to be swept up into her arms again, cooing and giggling as she dramatically hoisted him upward when she stood. She could clearly feel the joy coming off of him in waves.
“Have to admit, I hoped I’d get to see you again,” she admitted to the child.
The green child let out a small cry, as if agreeing with her.
Nova chuckled. “You ran off from your Mandalorian again, bug,” she told him, stating a fact rather than scolding. “You know you’re not supposed to do that.”
Just like the first time, the Yoda-esque child seemed pretty unbothered by it. As she finished speaking, Nova looked up to find the Mandalorian in question. She spotted him and his shiny armor just in time to see him frantically swinging his helmeted head around, searching for his missing kid. Nova had to hold back an amused snort at the funny sight. She stayed put, and he quickly found them where she stood on the side of the street. Immediately, he made a beeline toward them.
“Oh look, here he comes,” Nova announced to the green child staring up at her. “Somebody’s in trouble, and I know it’s not me.”
The child merely blinked, tilting his head. Still very unconcerned.
She was struck with deja vu as the Mandalorian purposefully strode over to her, though it wasn’t quite the angry stomping it had been during their first encounter. The colorful lights from the neon signs hanging around reflected off of his incredibly shiny beskar, making him look like some sort of deadly disco ball. A floating pram hovered closely behind him, which Nova could only guess belonged to the green child in her arms.
Nova offered the Mandalorian a friendly smile as he halted in front of her, even though she was already reluctant to let go of the wrinkly child she’d just picked up. “Hi,” she greeted him. “You probably don’t remember me—”
“I do,” the Mandalorian interrupted, nodding his head once.
Nova blinked. She was pleasantly surprised that he recognized her, despite only meeting each other once before. She didn’t consider herself to be all that memorable—unless of course, she had her lightsaber out. That usually stuck in people’s memories pretty well.
“Your little one must have remembered me, too,” she stated, smiling down at the wide-eyed child in her arms. “Ran right up to me just like the first time.”
He sensed me is more like it, she thought to herself.
“He climbed out of his pram,” the Mandalorian guessed, sounding only a little annoyed. Nova guessed that he’d probably already gotten onto the child for doing so multiple times. “He knows he’s not supposed to do that.”
She chuckled. “Kids will listen only until their priorities change.”
The child let out an absentminded coo, staring up at Nova with those incredibly innocent eyes of his. It was definitely a face you couldn’t stay mad at for long, no matter what crime he’d committed.
“Well,” Nova conceded, turning her gaze back to the Mandalorian, “you’re probably busy, so I’ll just let you two be on your way.” As much as she wanted to keep holding the green Yoda-child forever, she knew that he belonged with his guardian.
Nova began to hand him over, but it seemed the child had other ideas. Immediately, he latched his tiny claws onto her arm and started to make little indignant noises of protest. It seemed as though she wasn’t the only one reluctant to part again.
“Come on, green bean,” Nova chided. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
The pointy-eared child still fussed, refusing to let go. The Mandalorian reached out to try and pry him from her arms, but that only made it worse. The child latched on harder, and his protestful noises turned into sobs.
“Dank farrik,” the Mandalorian cursed. “He’s never fussed this much.”
Nova was just as confused as he was. Well, maybe she had a little more information. The child and her had both connected through the Force the first time they met, and that connection felt even stronger now that they were reunited. But she was still unclear as to why the child didn’t want to leave her arms so badly. Did he just want to be near a kindred spirit? Did he sense something in her?
“I have no idea why,” was what Nova said. She struggled to pry the green child off her arm so the Mandalorian could take him, but the kid was just too clingy and slippery.
As the child continued to loudly fuss, more and more random passersby stopped to stare at them. Eventually, the Mandalorian grew tired of it all and let go of the child, taking a step back. “Alright, alright.”
When the Mandalorian gave up trying to grab his child and Nova stopped trying to hand him over, he immediately calmed down. He smiled up at Nova and happily cooed, abruptly shifting from upset to content. He still gripped onto her arms.
“You’re a stubborn one,” Nova stated, smiling despite herself. She met the Mandalorian’s helmeted gaze, feeling guilty for unintentionally causing this problem. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he liked me that much.”
The Mandalorian sighed. “Not your fault.” His dark visor was pointed at his little green charge. Nova couldn’t see his face, but she was almost sure he was glaring.
“Maybe you can lure him away with food,” Nova suggested, only half joking. She studied herself, looking down at her belt and its pockets. “I think I have a ration bar stowed away somewhere…”
Nova had already shifted the child into one arm and had begun rifling through her pockets before the Mandalorian spoke again. “I was going to take him to get some dinner. He won’t be letting me take him from you anytime soon, so…” He paused. He seemed hesitant, almost. Shy? No, Mandalorians weren’t shy. “You could…come with us?”
Nova was surprised by his offer—but pleasantly so. Getting to hang out with a Mandalorian and his adorable, green, wrinkly child? Nova had been on her own for so long now that secretly she was itching for companionship. After all, she’d never really been alone her whole life. Technically she never was really alone, but traveling by herself for a year now made her realize that this was the longest she’d ever been on her own.
Her first instinct was to say yes, but of course her polite side urged her to make sure it was really okay. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose---”
“You’re not.” The Mandalorian was quick in his reply. Perhaps too quick? He seemed to make himself backtrack a little. “I mean…the cantina’s right over there…and the womp rat really does need to eat soon or he’ll get crankier than he already is…”
Nova looked down to meet the green child’s gaze as he spoke. He gazed up at her with those giant, dark eyes, seemingly pleading and just way too darn adorable for her to refuse.
“Okay,” she agreed, trying to keep her voice level but struggling to contain her excitement. “Yeah, that would be nice.”
The Mandalorian nodded. He paused for a moment then stepped back, wordlessly turned, and began walking off. Nova took the cue and immediately followed him, the little one still safely tucked in her arms. He had this big close-mouthed grin on his face, happy that he was getting his way. He cooed up at her, and she shook her head, more amused than anything.
This certainly wasn’t what she’d been expecting to happen tonight. Just minutes earlier, all she’d wanted was to find a quiet room to herself and a bunk to collapse into. Now the fatigue previously creeping into her bones had been forgotten, replaced with excited anticipation for a dinner with…
What exactly could she call the Mandalorian and his little green ward? Her acquaintances? Peers? …Friends? No.
Well, good company at any rate.
The Mandalorian seemed to know his way around the bustling Canto Bight streets far better than Nova did (which only made sense—she’d never been here before). She was happy to be able to turn off her mental navigation for a while and allow him to lead her to wherever they were going. Eventually, they turned down a quieter street and he stopped in front of a rather friendly-looking establishment. Friendly for Canto Bight, anyway.
Before Nova knew it, the Mandalorian had led her inside and was making their way to a booth in the back corner, where there was a little more privacy. Nova soon understood why: as they entered, tons of eyes had turned toward the shiny, intimidating, armored figure entering the cantina. The poor guy probably had people staring at him wherever he went. No wonder he wanted a secluded spot to sit.
He seemed otherwise unbothered by it. It was hard to tell with the helmet on.
This whole thing sounded like the beginning of a funny joke. A Mandalorian and a Jedi walk into a cantina… Nova bit back a smile at the thought.
Nova sat down at the table her newfound acquaintance had chosen, the child still tucked in her arms. The Mandalorian sat down across from them, and the empty pram remained floating at his side. Almost immediately after sitting down, a droid wheeled up to them.
“Welcome!” it cheerfully greeted. “What may I get you this evening?”
Nova hadn’t had any time to do more than glance at the rather expansive menu hanging above the bar nearby. Before she could politely ask the droid for some time to peruse her options, the Mandalorian spoke up first.
“Two bone broths,” he stated.
“Right away.” The droid wheeled away, as quickly as it had arrived.
The Mandalorian turned his attention back to her, his helmet tilting. “I, uh…hope that’s okay,” he said in a much less sure tone.
Nova smiled to ease his doubts, shaking her head. “That’ll be just fine.” Honestly, she was a little relieved he’d ordered for her. The cantina’s menu was huge, chock-full of things she’d never heard of, and she was only just realizing how hungry she was. Certainly too hungry to waste several minutes trying to decide what she wanted to eat.
A thought struck her, and she frowned. “Wait, you only ordered two,” she pointed out.
He nodded to confirm. “One for the kid, one for you.”
“You’re not eating?” Nova couldn’t understand. Why would he invite her to dine with them, but then order nothing for himself? “Come on, you must be starving after chasing down that Rodian for Maker-knows-how-long.” It wasn’t fair if he wouldn’t even get to eat.
“It’s okay,” the Mandalorian assured her. He seemed very okay with the prospect of not eating dinner. As if he were…used to it? “I’m not hungry.”
Nova sensed that was a lie, but let it be. “If you’re sure,” she replied. If he didn’t want to partake in a meal for reasons of his own, then it was no business of hers. Even though it bugged her.
So, he…wouldn’t be taking his helmet off, then. Strangely, Nova found herself just the slightest bit disappointed. She’d been mildly curious about what this mysterious lone Mandalorian looked like beneath his shiny beskar helm. Then again, if he didn’t want to expose his face in a heavily crowded cantina in a seedy city like Canto Bight, then she couldn’t blame him one bit.
She was just too used to Mandalorians removing their helmets all the time, apparently.
Nova and the Mandalorian found themselves in the midst of a slightly awkward silence then. It would take time for their food to arrive. Nova figured she could occupy herself by making faces at the green child in her arms, but at the same time she didn’t want to just sit in silence until the food arrived. So, as she listened to the child’s cooing and pretended to understand what he was saying, she also wracked her brain for a conversation starter. Mostly because the Mandalorian sitting in front of her didn’t seem like the type to initiate conversation. At all.
“You’re a funny little boy,” Nova told the child as he motioned around with his hands. “I hope you’re not always this mischievous for your Mandalorian.” She half-directed the comment at said Mandalorian in the hopes that it would get him to speak.
After a brief moment, she found that her efforts were successful. “He behaves, from time to time,” the Mandalorian admitted. “When he feels like it.”
Nova smiled. “Not when I’m around, apparently.”
The conversation could’ve naturally ended there, short and sweet. She was happy she’d even got the Mandalorian to respond at all. Just because they were dining together didn’t mean that she expected him to chat with her the whole time. But he didn’t seem to mind…and she had to admit, she was curious about more than a few things.
She decided to try and press her luck a little. She turned her head to better face the Mandalorian, her hands still occupying the child as she did. “So…how did you two end up together, anyway?”
The Mandalorian didn’t answer right away. The longer the silence stretched on, the more Nova began to worry that she’d overstepped. He deserved his privacy, she didn’t want to pry…
Eventually, he replied, “It’s complicated.”
“I guessed as much,” she said. Quickly, she added, “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to.” She felt a little bad for putting him on the spot, so she elected to go back to playing with the little green child. If he wanted to answer her, that was his decision. If not, then Nova would just have to ignore her curiosity.
She estimated that it was a full three minutes before the Mandalorian chose to speak again. When he did, she turned her attention back to him, attempting to mask her pleasant surprise.
“He was a bounty,” the Mandalorian revealed. His words made Nova immediately stop what she was doing. “I…rescued him.”
Nova’s mouth gaped open a little bit, and she shut it as soon as she was aware. Glancing back down at the child, she was met with his large, dark, innocent eyes and gap-toothed grin. This child was a bounty?
She scowled. “What slimy piece of worm-ridden filth would put a bounty on a sweet child like this?”
The unspoken question: Why?
The Mandalorian folded his arms over his chest. “He’s…special.”
That made Nova freeze a little. Did… Did he know? Did he know about the child’s…abilities? She’d assumed that since he was Mandalorian (and a very traditional one, from what she knew of him thus far), there was no way he’d allow a Force-sensitive child to travel with him. But…then again, she knew quite a few Mandalorians who didn’t hate Jedi. In fact, her best friend was a Mandalorian. Could this Mandalorian know that the child was Force-sensitive and…be perfectly okay with it?
It was possible. That certainly was what Nova hoped was the case. But…if somehow he didn’t know, then she didn’t want to be the one to reveal it to him. As before, she had no intention of ruining the good thing this child had going for him.
Nova changed the subject before the silence became awkward. She asked another question that came to mind. “Is he your foundling?”
“...Yes.” The Mandalorian seemed a little caught off guard. “You…know about foundlings?”
She grinned at him. “Believe it or not, I actually know quite a bit about Mandalorian culture.”
The Mandalorian seemed to accept this. “My creed says that until I can return him to his own kind, I am…his father.”
Nova could hear the emotion accompanying his voice. She could tell he felt a little daunted by the role, but…definitely not opposed. His visor tilted downward toward his little green charge. The child seemed to sense the eyes on him, and met the Mandalorian’s gaze. He cooed at him, and Nova thought she heard a faint chuckle emerge from the helmeted head. 
The sight warmed her heart. “He seems to like you very much,” she observed, sending a warm smile the Mandalorian’s way. “I think you’re doing a good job.”
The dark visor settled on her again. Without seeing his eyes, it was hard to tell what he was thinking at the moment. Unable to maintain contact with his helmet’s gaze, she turned her attention back to the child. He was still looking at his Mandalorian, so maybe while he was occupied she could…
She ever so slowly tried setting him down on the table so that the Mandalorian might be able to pick him up. But alas, as soon as he realized what she was doing he let out an indignant coo, latching back onto her arm and fussing until she stopped.
“Nope, okay, still don’t want to be put down.” Nova sighed. It’d been worth a shot, right? The child stared up at her with those…infuriatingly innocent eyes of his. “Maybe when your food gets here,” she mused. She was still supportive of her theory that only food would get him to move at this point.
As the child settled back into her arms, Nova glanced around the crowded cantina. It was busy here tonight. No wonder their food was taking so long. 
The Mandalorian sat silently across from her, stoic as ever. She mentally debated with herself. Should she try to talk with him more, or just leave him be?
Her want for socialization eventually won out. “Well,” she began, “since I interrogated you, feel free to ask me something. If you want.”
She mentally facepalmed. Eloquent, as always. Why was she acting so awkward? She was usually much more put-together. Maybe the apparent strong Force connection to the child was throwing her off.
“What, uh…”
Nova was startled by the sudden speech from the Mandalorian, having not really expected him to actually find something to ask her. As soon as she focused her attention on him again, he found the words to speak.
“What...brings you to a planet like this?” was the question he came up with.
For some reason, it made Nova chuckle. Embarrassed, she cleared her throat. “I definitely don’t seem like the type, right?” she confirmed. “I’m not. Honestly, I considered buying some fancier clothes for myself just so that I wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb.” She chuckled again, a bit more composed this time. Then she paused, contemplating. He’d been honest with her so far (she could sense that) so the least she could do was be honest with him. Even if bringing up the subject would only make her unhappy again… “I came to visit their holo library. I…” Come on. Spit it out. Remember not to mention his name. “I’m searching for my brother.”
She didn’t have to be Force-sensitive to see that those words had grabbed the Mandalorian’s attention more effectively than anything else she’d said to him that night. “Your brother?” he pressed.
“Mm-hmm,” Nova said with a brief nod. Keep the story simple, girl. “My older brother. He…disappeared…years ago. I have no idea where he went or if he’s even still there, but…” She sighed. “I do know that I’ll never stop looking until I find him.”
The Mandalorian didn’t respond at first. Nova was glad. It gave her a chance to shove her creeping sadness away and focus on the present. She’d grown a whole lot better at that over the many years since her brother had vanished.
And then, the Mandalorian responded. “How do you know that he’s—?”
“I know.” She cut him off before he had a chance to finish.
Nova hadn’t meant to be snappy, but she couldn’t help it. She was so tired of being met with any sort of doubt and opposition about her brother still being alive after all these years. They couldn’t understand it, but she knew. She could feel it. The Force hadn’t lied to her thus far, and she had no reason to believe that it was lying to her about this. Anytime somebody tried to question it, she wouldn’t hear it.
She still felt bad about the way she’d responded. It’d created an awkward silence between her and the Mandalorian, worse than when they’d first sat down. Ashamed, she looked away from the face of his helmet, wishing for a way to dispel the suddenly tense atmosphere.
Luckily, the Force decided to grant her wish as the droid waiter from before zoomed up to them. It set down two steaming bowls of bone broth in the center of the table, not spilling a drop.
“Here you go!” the droid cheerfully announced. “Enjoy!”
As the waiter droid left them alone again, Nova swiftly took the opportunity to change the subject. She held up the child in her arm, tugging one of the bowls toward him with her free hand. “Hey look, bug! Food’s here.”
The sight and smell of hot food was what finally did it. The wrinkly green child eagerly clambered out of her arms and onto the table, all but attacking the bowl of bone broth.
“Aha!” Nova exclaimed in triumph, watching the child eat with a grin. “I knew food would do the trick.”
The child spared a brief moment to let out a happy coo before diving back into the depths of the bowl. It made Nova laugh.
Inevitably, the Mandalorian spoke up again. “Hey, I didn’t mean to…upset you,” he uttered. It wasn’t an insensitive comment by any means; it merely sounded like he was having trouble finding the right words.
Nova sighed, giving him a small smile she hoped was reassuring. “It’s okay,” she urged. “You didn’t upset me. You were just curious.” She shrugged in spite of herself. “Trust me, I’ve had plenty of doubts and plenty of time to sulk and think about it. I can’t explain it, I’m just…really, really sure.”
The Mandalorian nodded at her reply, and they left it at that. He gently nudged the remaining bowl of broth in her direction, reminding her it was there. She’d honestly forgotten all about it until now. She shot him a thankful grin, tugging the bowl to her. One sniff of its contents and her stomach let her know how hungry she actually was.
Nova didn’t eat her bone broth quite as fast as the child, but she still felt like she was downing it pretty quickly. As with the fried gorg from their first meeting, the child was practically inhaling his meal. She had to pause every once in a while to let a smile break loose at the sight of it.
She let out a relieved sigh once her bowl was empty, feeling satisfied. “I think I needed that,” she softly admitted.
The child sat back on his haunches, his bowl practically licked clean. He let out a small belch that frankly was more cute than repulsive.
“I think he did, too,” the Mandalorian added, amusement in his tone.
Nova grinned at the unexpected comment.
Their rather attentive droid waiter chose that moment to come wheeling back to their table, this time with the check. As it read off the total, Nova immediately went digging in her pack that sat on the floor next to her.
“I’ve got it,” she announced.
But as she moved to pay, the Mandalorian was moving, too. “No, you don’t need to do that,” he insisted, reaching into his belt. “I’ll—”
Nova shook her head. “Really, it’s no big deal—”
“Let me—”
“I can—”
They both stopped, realizing that they were now talking over each other. Nova saw how ridiculous their bickering was, and chuckled at how things had escalated. She couldn’t be sure, but as she was laughing she thought she saw the Mandalorian’s shoulders briefly shake, as if he were laughing, too.
Finally, Nova proposed, “We’ll split it.”
The Mandalorian nodded his assent.
Both Nova and the Mandalorian handed the droid equal amounts of credits. As it wheeled away for the third time, the Mandalorian took the chance to swiftly pluck his foundling off the table and bring him into his arms, lest the whole issue that started it all happen again. Thankfully now that he’d eaten, the child was growing sleepy. His blinks were getting slower and his long ears were drooping, so this time he didn’t put up a fight as the Mandalorian grabbed him and set him down in his pram.
Before Nova knew it, they were leaving the cantina and walking back out into the glowing neon night. She turned to face the Mandalorian, lingering for a moment as she thought of something to say.
“Well…” she began. “Thank you. I’ve been on my own for a while now, and…” She trailed off, knowing he’d probably be uninterested. “That was nice.”
The Mandalorian nodded. “Thanks for…putting up with him,” he replied, gesturing down to his drowsy foundling.
Nova smiled down at the wrinkly green child, who was very desperately trying to keep his eyes open. “He’s just too kriffing cute. I can’t resist.”
There was a beat in the conversation. Nova tried to decide whether to let it end or find something else to say.
“It was…good to see you again,” came out of her mouth, mildly surprising herself.
The Mandalorian was quiet for a moment, then responded with a nod. “You too.”
Short response. Nova took the hint, knowing that he probably wanted to get off this crazy planet. She did, too—as soon as she finally got some sleep.
“You probably want to get going,” she said with a smile. “You two take care. Perhaps I’ll run into you again sometime?”
The Mandalorian’s reply, again, was brief. “Perhaps.”
Nova cleared her throat. Don’t overstay your welcome, she mentally scolded herself. “Alright, well…” Being very eloquent once again. “Have a good night. May the Force be with you.”
And before she could blabber out any more fluff or nonsense, she spun on her heel and, with one last friendly wave back at the unlikely duo, walked off in the direction she’d been heading before.
She could only hope that a cheap inn still had a vacancy.
~~~~~
Din halted in the doorway of the magistrate’s office, releasing a deep sigh.
This wasn’t where he was supposed to be. He was supposed to be hurtling through hyperspace to a planet called Tython, not back here on Nevarro.
After finally locating and meeting a Jedi, a woman called Ahsoka Tano, Din had finally been on the right track to getting the kid--Grogu, he reminded himself with an upward twitch of his lips--back to his own kind. She could not train Grogu herself, but she’d been able to point them in the right direction. On a planet called Tython, Grogu would be able to--apparently--get in contact with other Jedi. Somehow.
Din didn’t quite fully understand it all, but he knew all that he needed to know. He knew where to bring Grogu, knew the right path to take. Which is why he should be landing on Tython right now.
Unfortunately, with all the traveling and planet-hopping they’d been doing lately, credits were running dangerously low. Din needed money for fuel, rations---essentials that made travel impossible if you didn’t have them. He’d done the math, and he was loath to admit that they wouldn’t be getting very far at all if he didn’t get some more credits. He really didn’t want to take the time for it, but it was probably the smart thing to do. Who knows where his journey to find Grogu’s people would take them next after Tython?
And so, he was here on Nevarro. Begrudgingly.
“Mando!”
The joyful voice of Greef Karga greeted Din as he stepped inside the office. He strode out from the back room, his arms spread wide in a welcoming manner.
“I didn’t expect you back so soon,” Karga remarked with a grin.
“I’m in need of a quick bounty,” Din curtly informed him.
Karga moved his hands to rest on his hips, giving Din a knowing look. “Low on funds, huh?” He paused to give Din a chance to respond, but seemed unsurprised when it didn’t happen. “No problem! I’ve got plenty of bounties on the board, and you’ve got your pick of them.”
He began to lead Din further into the office, but then halted as he seemed to remember something. He turned back to him, holding up a finger.
“Actually,” Karga interjected, “I have something special. A high-profile bounty popped up a couple weeks ago, and it’s quickly reached the top of every guild’s list. I’ve been saving it just for you.” He began to head for his desk again. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
Din held in another sigh as he followed him. “I said I needed something quick.” He really didn’t have the time to spend a long week tracking down a dangerous, highly elusive bounty. He only wanted to spare a day or two, maybe three, catching an easy quarry with a decent enough reward.
“Ah, I think you’ll change your mind once I show you the price tag,” Karga assured him.
Din knew that he wasn’t going to deter Karga from wasting time showing him this supposed “special bounty,” so he decided that it was best to just humor the man and get it over with. Perhaps if Din wasn’t currently in the process of trying to reunite Grogu with the Jedi, then he’d be more interested.
The two sat across from each other at Karga’s desk. Karga opened the top drawer on his side and pulled out a bounty puck. He held it up for Din to see before setting it down on the table. After a dramatic pause, he tapped the face of the puck. The blue bounty hologram sprang to life, featuring a name, a reward amount, and a face.
A familiar face.
Din froze, going rigid in his seat. The face of the bounty stared at him, and the sight of it overcame him with mild shock. It was a face he’d only seen a couple times, but it was one he couldn’t forget if he tried, thanks in no small part to his foundling. Despite not really knowing the person the face belonged to all that well, it was someone he’d never imagined would appear on a bounty puck.
So what in Maker's name was she doing on a bounty puck?
Karga was completely oblivious to Din’s grim reaction, smirking like he was presenting the Mandalorian with a generous gift.
“Her name is Nova,” he introduced. “Nova Bridger.”
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adira5780 · 2 years
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*everything I'm saying here is based off my experience working in Canadian museums and my familiarity with and understanding of relevant Canadian rules and legislation. This information may not be applicable elsewhere. Different countries have different laws and standards.*
One of the most common questions I get asked at work is "oh, my grandfather donated such and such an item years ago but I want it back, how do I do that?"
And the answer is: you don't.
If it was obtained properly*, we are unable to return objects to individuals. There are a few reasons for this:
We're non-profits who issue tax receipts. If someone donates an object to us and we issue a tax receipt and then years later return the object, that throws a huge wrench into the tax issue. CRA (Canada Revenue Agency) forbids non-profits from returning donations. It's the same as if you donated $500 and then ten years later asked for it back.
Similarly, because you donated the object, it became property of the museum. To give it back to you would mean a non-profit is gifting something of value to a random citizen. The fact that someone in your family at one point owned it means nothing. Again, think of it like cash. ("The Income Tax Act requires a registered charity to devote its resources exclusively to its charitable purposes and activities, and prohibits it from making gifts to non-qualified donees. So, a registered charity that returns donated property could be regarded as making a gift to a non-qualified donee, or providing an undue benefit, which are contraventions of the Act and could result in sanctions that include revocation of registered status.")
Inheritance is a touchy subject. If your grandfather donated something and he has 12 grandkids who are all heirs, who are we to decide that YOU are the one who should get it? It would be a legal nightmare.
Museums aren't free storage lockers. Every item that comes into a collection, if handled properly, requires tens if not hundreds of hours of work just to bring it into the collection. On top of that there's the continued costs of housing and maintaining these objects. Even a small, simple brooch that comes into our museum would probably require a minimum of 20 hours of work to be accessioned. (All the paperwork, transporting the object, accessioning it, documenting its condition/description/history (history often involves extensive research or interviews with donors), conservation examining it and doing any treatments necessary to stabilize it, and building proper storage containers for it). We're putting thousands of dollars into caring for these items.
Museums have an obligation to keep objects in the "public trust". This means that even if we do decide that we shouldn't/can't keep an artifact any longer, we are (generally, excepting specific circumstances)* required to offer it to other museums first. If we can't find a museum interested in the object, we'll usually look at other relevant non-profits, if they exist. If no one will take it, objects go to public auction. This is the easiest way to ensure a fair price is received for the item. If you want something back and the museum has independently decided to deaccession it, the museum can tell you when/where the auction will be held (though even this is generally discouraged), but that is as far as we can go. Private sales are strongly discouraged (if not outright forbidden) in Canadian museums.
*There ARE circumstances when artifacts can be returned to people. Most notable is repatriation. If an object was obtained illegally or unethically, it is a completely different situation. If it was stolen, or taken by coercion, for example, it should be returned ASAP. Even if we have proper donation paperwork, if the person who donated it didn't have the right to give it to us, we need to get it back to the individual or community who it rightly belongs to immediately.
Many (most) Indigenous objects in museum collections were obtained unethically and those can and should be returned ASAP. Similar situations arise with art and objects looted during the Holocaust. Or like, the entirety of the British Museum's collection. Those are definitely situations where objects should be deaccessioned and returned.
Your grandmother's butter churn that was donated by her child when she died, does not fall under this category.
When people donate items to us we always encourage them to talk with their potential heirs first because once it's ours we cannot give it back. We tell them it's the same as a cash donation, once it's signed over to us we cannot return it.
Anyways I spent a lot of time yesterday getting yelled at about this so I thought I would share some in-depth explanations as to why this is the way it is.
(this is a hastily written tumblr post so please don't take this as like, unquestionable truth. I'm fairly confident that everything I've said here is correct but if I have any mistakes in here, please feel free to correct me!)
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marvelmaniac715 · 1 year
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This fanfic isn’t really an au, I think that it genuinely could have happened in the main timeline of the series. This is really an extension of all of the comparisons made between teenage Charles Lee Ray and Peter Pan. 
I was especially struck by three passages of the book when I wrote this. The first is the scene where it’s revealed that every time a child breathes in Neverland an adult dies and that Peter deliberately does this when he’s angry at grownups. The second is a passage that I fully quote in the story about a child’s first ‘unfairness’, I feel like this describes young Charles, especially when his father was killed. The third was the chilling description of ‘thinning’ in the book that I’ve also included in the story.
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It was a major blow to lose both of their parents in one night. But Eddie and his twin brother Harry had promised to stick together, so they were going to make it through this somehow.
When the social worker came to their temporary lodgings and told them that she’d found a Boy’s Home for them to stay in, they were skeptical. They’d heard horror stories of overcrowded, rowdy Homes where the boys ran wild and picked on the younger kids. But the social worker insisted that this was one of the nicer Homes, so they decided they’d agree to go.
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True to the social worker’s word, the twins’ first impression of the Boy’s Home was that it was… nice. It seemed like a warm and inviting building, and the excited chattering of boys could be overheard as they toured their new home. The nice lady who owned the Boy’s Home credited all of the success to the oldest boy living there.
“He’s just such a positive influence on the other children. You boys are going to love Charles, he’s like the leader around here. Why, he even tells me what to do sometimes!”
Whoever Charles was, both Eddie and Harry were very nervous about meeting him. What would he be like?
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The tour concluded in a small sitting room, where a group of boys were sat in a circle. There was a boy at the front, sitting on a leather armchair, reading to the rest of them from a tattered old book.
He was a tall, skinny teenager with a mop of dark curls atop his head. His eyes were a dark blue, and sparkled with endless mischief. He was smiling, but each individual tooth looked razor sharp, as if he were prepared to bite at any given moment. The boys sitting on the floor in front of him were enraptured by the story that he was telling.
“It was then that Hook bit him. Not the pain of this but its unfairness was what dazed Peter. It made him quite helpless. He could only stare, horrified. Every child is affected thus the first time he is treated unfairly. All he thinks he has a right to when he comes to you to be yours is fairness. After you have been unfair to him he will love you again, but he will never afterwards be quite the same boy. No one ever gets over the first unfairness; no one except Peter. He often met it, but he always forgot it. I suppose that was the real difference between him and all the rest.”
As he finished his paragraph, the nice owner of the orphanage coughed to gain his attention. When he glanced over at her, she gestured at Eddie and his brother.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt story time Charles, but these two boys here have just moved in, and I’d love for a nice older boy like you to show them around a little.”
Charles grinned even wider, and beckoned for the twins to come over. Once they had reached him, he pointed to the space on the floor just below him.
“Just sit down there. It’s very nice to meet you boys, I’m Charles, and these little gremlins are my own little band of Lost Boys. What are your names? No, don’t tell me, I’ll probably find out later. You’ve come at a very good time, we’re right in the middle of Peter Pan, do you know that story? It’s a lot of fun, and it’s inspired us to form our own Neverland troop, hasn’t it boys?”
At this, the assembled crowd of young boys whooped and hollered in delight. Eddie noticed that a few of them had war paint on their faces, or toy Indian headdresses atop their heads. There was something slightly unsettling about all of this, but Eddie couldn’t put his finger on it.
Charles nodded and beamed almost angelically at the owner of the Home, who was still in the doorway.
“Don’t worry Ma’am, I’ve got it all covered from here. Why don’t you go and have a lie down? Maybe drink some tea? It might make your migraines feel better.”
The woman smiled fondly.
“Oh, you’re such a good boy Charles. What a good idea, I just know that these two are in safe hands with you.”
When she was gone, Charles beckoned to a boy sitting by his foot.
“Hey Nick, can you go get me a glass of water? Don’t spill it like last time, y’hear?”
The child nodded and sprang to his feet.
“Yes Chief!”
After that, Charles moved on to another boy, demanding that his slippers be brought down. Like his comrade before him, the boy leapt up to do his Master’s bidding. Then a third boy was called upon, with the goal of making Charles a sandwich (“Without the crusts, this time please.”)
With all of his demands made, Charles sat back and gazed down upon Eddie and Harry. His gaze seemed ice cold. His grin seemed more threatening. A sudden chill ran up each boy’s spine as Charles began to casually thumb through the book in his hand, eyes still fixed upon them.
“You see boys, everyone has a role here. If you do what’s asked of you, you’re rewarded. If you don’t, well… there’s a moment in the book where J.M Barrie describes the process of ‘thinning’. Do you know what that means?”
The boys shook their heads, unable to bring themselves to even speak.
“Well, ‘thinning’ is when Peter Pan, the leader of the Lost Boys, takes a boy who has outgrown Neverland. A boy who doesn’t deserve the privilege of Peter Pan’s company. And he kills them. Then he goes out in search of a new boy to fill the empty slot. On an unrelated note, you’ve moved in just after two small boys went missing. Sad, really, they were quite loyal, but then they decided to rebel against me… I hate troublemakers. Say, you two won’t cause any trouble… will you?”
They shook their heads so frantically that they pulled a muscle in their necks.
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magdasabs · 2 years
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Hedvig Lindahl: "I haven't felt like part of the team"
Text Anna Friberg
MADRID. Loneliness is partly self-chosen. 
But Hedvig Lindahl is also open that she has felt left out in the national team and has been "difficult". 
- It has put wedges in some relationships. They have been given an image of me that is difficult to change, says the 39-year-old national team veteran, who also talks about the family's everyone moving, the hatred, the future and her son's words about silver medals. 
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When the moving load was to go once more to a new country for Hedvig Lindahl and her family, she made her sons a promise. 
"At the new apartment in Spain there is a pool and we will be able to swim there every day" . 
Just over a year and a half later, that pool at the residential area of ​​Alcalá de Henares, 30 kilometers east of Madrid, has still never been open. 
- There has only been some kind of green gloom in it, I don't know why it isn't running. But there hasn't been any swimming there for the boys. 
A few hundred meters from the motorway is the residential area where the family has lived since Lindahl's club change from Wolfsburg to Atletico Madrid. 
The family had their home on the fifth floor of one of the red-brown brick houses. 
What awaits now is unclear. 
Hedvig Lindahl's contract with Atletico Madrid has expired and there will be no extension, but a new move.
-I have no idea what is happening now, but it is also a bit exciting.
At the same time, there is another side, in the last four years alone, Lindahl and her family, wife Sabine Willms and sons Timothy, 8, and Nathan, 5, have coached around and lived in three different countries, England, Germany and Spain. 
- I feel that we need to land now. Above all for "Timmy's" sake. He may not think so himself, but for me it is important that he makes friends, gets invited to parties and all that. Grow together and have shared memories with other children. 
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Eight-year-old Timothy has told us a while earlier at the lunch restaurant where we first meet that he knows "three and a half languages". At home, the family speaks English as Sabine is from Germany. 
Hedvig Lindahl sees the advantage of the language skills and the experiences the family has gained abroad. At the same time, if the football career is to continue even after this summer's EC, then it has to be in a different way. 
- This thing about moving around, it must be over now. Then it must be long-term. 
Sweden is certainly an option, but at the same time it is clear that Hedvig Lindahl and Sabine Willms are happy to stay abroad. 
- The family and what is good for us comes first. 
- But it is clear, if someone comes in and says that you can earn the worst money in this club, which can actually happen these days. Then we have to talk about it.She invested the most in our relationship
Hedvig Lindahl and Sabine Willms have been a couple since 2009, and from Sabine's side there was no question of having a long-distance relationship, even though she herself lived and worked in Gothenburg at the same time as Hedvig played in Kristianstad. 
- Sabine was the one who invested much more in the relationship at first. And I should probably be grateful for that. Otherwise I would have been standing here alone. 
"Then I closed the room"
For 20 years, Hedvig Lindahl has been part of the Swedish national team, and most of the time a key figure. 
But also the one who, in a way, has been alone in the middle of team building, at least when it comes to life outside of training and matches. 
- It has been and is partly self-chosen loneliness. Maybe I'm a little too selfish to subordinate myself to the group. The social is not important enough to me to sacrifice things that do not match my values. Or that it simply hasn't interested me. 
- I like to sit and talk like this a little more in depth, but I find it very difficult to make small talk about things like "did you follow Farmen yesterday?". 
Has there been a problem? 
- Sometimes it has been a wrong choice, it might have been better to be with the group. And doing that thing that I didn't think would lead to anything. To then have deeper relationships. 
Although Lindahl believes that the loneliness is very much self-chosen, she is also open that she has not always felt well in the national team environment. 
- I have not always felt safe and comfortable. During the European Championship 2005, I locked myself in the room with a video game. I wasn't feeling well at all then. I do not know why. But there weren't good years then, but many people have such periods in their lives.  
However, the 39-year-old believes that she is much safer now. 
- But I think I'm an introvert. I get energy and recharge my batteries when I'm alone. I can be social and all that, and we often have people over. But I have to be very confident to like it. 
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"I've probably always been troublesome"
During her long national team career, Hedvig Lindahl has helped bring home two Olympic silvers (2016, 2021), one World Cup silver (2003) and two World Cup bronzes (2011, 2019) with the Swedish national team. 
She has also seen the interest in women's football go in waves. 
- WC 2003 there were a lot of people watching and then I thought that "now comes the lift", but it didn't happen. We got enormous attention when we came home to Sweden, but then it died out. And so it has been several times. It has been a success, but then back to square one.
- But this time it feels different. It's a snowball that has gained momentum, now women's football is growing. I think we're over that crest now and that snowball can't be stopped anymore.
She describes her own football journey as emotional.
- It has gone from me being insecure and having low self-esteem to now being quite calm and confident. Things that I reacted to when I was younger, I might not react the same way today. 
- I have never used shortcuts to get ahead, I have always stood by my stuff. And I'm proud of that. Since then I've probably always been a bit troublesome. 
- I have put myself in difficult situations because I have spoken out. I've said things the wrong way, now I've learned to be a little more "smooth". 
That you have been "difficult", how has it affected your situation in the team?
- It has certainly put wedges in certain relationships, that they have received an image of me that is difficult to change. It's been tough at times, absolutely. I haven't felt like part of the team and the contexts I've been in. 
Have you felt left out?
- It is difficult to answer, sometimes I may not have wanted to be part of it. But there have also been moments when I have sought contact and received no response. Then I felt left out. 
- Right now I have better relationships with people because I am an easier person. 
"Wanted to be rich and famous"
Growing up in the small Marmorbyn outside Katrineholm, it was clear early on that Hedvig Lindahl had soccer talent. 
- My older sister played soccer and I also wanted to play, so my parents had to special order a pair of soccer shoes when I was four years old. 
Then she started scooping up goals. 
- Dad has said that I was as good as a forward as a goalkeeper, but I thought it was the most fun to be in goal, so after a while it became that way. 
And even as a young woman she had a big dream. 
- My goal when I was little was to become rich and famous. The most important thing was not in what, but only that I would become rich and famous. But football was what I was good at, so it was probably the most natural. I wanted to be the best goalkeeper in the world. 
- But now that I've gone through this football life, I realize that I don't want to be known and recognized. Sickly jealous of those who come after
She says that a man had certainly come forward earlier in the day who wanted to take a picture of her, but that otherwise there is not much attention around her in the area where she and her family live. 
- Nobody seems to care that I'm sitting on this park bench here and now. And it is a freedom that is priceless. Or it's an afterthought because for a while I was sickly jealous that those who come after will get a lot more attention, money and everything. 
Rich then, were you?
- No, damn it. Absolutely not. 
But how much money have you earned from football?
- I cannot afford to buy a house in Katrineholm without taking out a loan. I don't have that much money. But I could live for a while without running straight into a job. But it's also about me being a save person. I always have been, when my sister ate her Saturday treat I saved mine. So long that in the end the foam bananas were hard and almost inedible. 
Hedvig Lindahl falls silent for a moment before she continues. 
- The next generation of women's footballers will make more money than I have. But me and the family are fine, and I think we will be able to buy a house sometime in the future. And then you have to consider yourself lucky. 
- I was bitter and jealous for a while and all these boring feelings that you don't want because it's not so dressy. But I'm not now. 
However it turned out with that becoming "rich and famous", it is something Hedvig Lindahl absolutely does not want to be a part of. 
- To be completely forgotten, I would find that difficult. And I think even more about those who led women's football forward before me, it is important that their history lives on. I hope mine does too. 
"Wrote that I should die"
Full stadiums and celebrated on home turf after championship medals, Hedvig Lindahl has experienced that several times. 
But she has also been mocked and subjected to hate, not least on social media during her career. 
- I have felt terribly bad about such things. The low water mark for me was probably the 2012 Olympics. I will never forget when someone on Twitter wrote that "I wouldn't mind if Hedvig Lindahl died" . 
- I just cried, and cried and cried at the closing dinner with the team. I couldn't stop crying. It took a terrible toll.
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- I don't remember if we had a psychologist with us then, maybe we did. But the methods we have in the national team now are much better if someone is unwell for any reason 
Son's nice words
Although the football future is uncertain for Hedvig Lindahl, the 39-year-old knows what she wants in the longer term. 
- In the future, I want a house where I can go and tinker in the garden and set up a guided walk for the local aunties. I don't want to go on a weekend to New York or some other place every other weekend. 
But in the near future, the European Championship awaits in England and Hedvig Lindahl is ready for another championship, and she hopes that that gold will finally be Swedish.
At the same time, a few days before we meet, the sons who practice karate have been in a competition. Timothy won his class and Nathan came second. 
- Afterwards, when we were sitting in Nathan's room, he said "mom, you also have a lot of silver, don't you?" . To which I answered "yes" . Then he quickly said, "it's not so bad with silver" . 
- I think it was well said.
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13, 24, 35 for the writing asks!
What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy? things i have personally experienced.
How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it? i have a template gdoc like so that's been extremely helpful and i have simply been making copies of it over and over whenever i have an Idea that is slightly too long for a google keep note. i do an alarming amount of writing directly into google keep bc, for whatever reason, my brain does not recognize it as writing and get less fussy about it. like how i can only read ebooks with vertical scroll on my phone, tricking my brain into "oh this is a really long fic". doesn't work on the ipad tho it's too irritating. ANYWAY,
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i loooooove prep. i love splashing around in my little mud pit of images and links and copied chunks of text from academic papers that will inform one line i will later cut but WILL make it into the ending author's notes. my endnotes are. extensive. as a rule.
here's what the planning/outline looked like for the yee.hawgust piece i did:
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the concept started from a pic of a cabinet full of uranium glass @believerindaydreams tagged me in, i went "that's fun, why would six need new table settings and where would she find some", came up with the banquet hall and the feral ghoulified wedding bc that "felt" like a fallout sidequest/miniboss. this one had a lot of minor characters that aren't super fleshed out in-game, i knew i wanted an animal companion, i thought it would be fun to have a rashomon-style fic where they all flagrantly lied. i didn't really bother keeping track of their flagrant lies except for making sure there were at minimum three different ways the building could have blown up. i think this is one of the more trite endings i've ever done but like. how could i not.
this one did not involve a ton of research aside from actually watching rashomon. i research for fic the same way i did with undergrad and dayjob shit: if it's something i'm totally unfamiliar with read the wiki page to figure out the right vocab to phrase my question, figure out if anyone's asked this question before by literally googling the exact question or putting certain terms like "gold suspension silicone" into JSTOR or pubmed or the arXiv, refining my question/search terms, figuring out if i can extrapolate an answer, if it's not the answer i want i reconsider how i can write it to be more accurate or if it's a small enough/important enough detail i can bend it a little.
What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens? lmao i do not approach writing with anywhere near the same rigor as you do. bitches love adverbs. im bitches.
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fvckangcl · 1 year
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(—) ★ spotted!! ANGEL GRIFFIN on the cover of this week’s most recent tabloid! many say that the 31 year old looks like CASEY DEIDRICK but i don’t really see it. while  the NHL LA KINGS CAPTAIN is known for being GENEROUS my inside sources say that they have a tendency to be FICKLE i swear, every time i think of them, i hear the song EGO BY BEYONCE  { he/him - cismale} - penned sophie, 26, cisfemale, she/her
if you ask people who knew angel before the NHL what he was like, you’d get a very different answer to the version from the people that knew him after. 
despite the fact he grew up larger than life, very obviously one of the bigger kids in the group. angel was always gentle, growing up in small town Minnesota he had a very simple outlook on life and what he was going to get out of it. he was going to marry hannah, the girl he had been in love with since the third grade, and he was going to take over the ranch that his parents owned as the oldest son. 
he’d got it all figured out, from a very young age and people laughed that he was beyond his years with his life plans. they didn’t waiver though, not even when he started hockey practice, it was for fun at first, he and some of the boys joined as a joke, only at his sized, with his speed? it turned out that angel had something the rest of the kids didn’t have and sooner rather than later he was spending less time breathing in the fresh country air and his lungs were used to nothing but the crisp ice. 
when he got into the university of minnesota on a full ride for hockey no one was more shocked than himself but hannah was smart enough to join him and the two of them went out into the world from their small town together. for four years he didn’t see a change in his plan, just an extension of time and soon enough he and hannah would be home again. 
then the draft happened, he’d finished college, been told by just about everyone that he would be stupid not to enter and show how it had managed to slip him and his easy life style that he really was that good. when he was drafted into the LA kings as the 9th pick of the draft no one was more shocked them himself, no one was less impressed than hannah. as it turned out, she hadn’t loved the idea of him playing hockey ever but had thought it was always something he would do for a while not forever, she wanted to build a home, find herself back in their small town and she couldn’t with him drafted. 
angel came home to a note lent against the old vase of flowers he’d gotten her before he had travelled for the draft and just life that life as he knew it changed. and so did he. he let the guys on the team take him out, he filled out the muscle he had been carrying through college into a full man. 
when the puck bunnies and brand deals came he gave himself away to every single one of them and slowly but surely over the years angel has become less and less the gentleman that he was known for. 
these days he’s the NHL bad boy, he get’s rookies under his wing and more action than they’ve been in their little lives and he’s always the first to throw gloves and check someone into the boards if they mess with his team. 
since he was 22 angel has lived his life truly believing hockey is the only thing he needs besides good sex and good beer and he intends to live out his life with that theory. 
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armoricaroyalty · 2 years
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hi! do you have any tips for a new/just starting out royal simblr? anything you can tell me is greatly appreciated.
also, one more thing: any tips for how to place/adjust tiaras using the hat slider? i’m seriously losing my actual mind over here trying to position tiaras and i don’t even know if i’m doing it right 🤣 ty!
You know, a while ago I actually started writing a guide for new royal simblr but it ended up in my enormous pile of "projects I'll return to when my free time returns from the war!" Here's some of the highlights.
Know what you want to get out of your story... Are you telling a story because you're excited about the community aspect, meeting new people, participating in community events, and making friends? Are you looking to challenge yourself and grow your skills as a story-teller, pose-maker, or editor? Do you want to dress your sims up in pretty clothes and make them smooch? Figure out what you want to accomplish with your story, and prioritize the parts of it that enable you to do that thing.
...but don't do it for notes. There's a big difference between joining a community to make friends and enjoy your shared hobby and joining a community with the intention of building a following and getting a lot of likes, comments, and asks. We all like it when the numbers go up, but focusing exclusively (or almost exclusively) on the numbers is a great way to kill your passion for your story. Comparison is the thief of joy. Write for yourself, not the audience you think another simmer has.
Start small, start simple. Your story will naturally develop in complexity as you revise your outlines and edit posts. The stories you follow might be packed with intricate drama and lots of moving parts, but they (probably) didn't start out that way. Don't feel like you need to roll out a complicated story with a cast of dozens and extensive family trees...you'll have a hard time keeping track of it, and so will your readers. Some of the best story-telling advice I ever got came from a tabletop roleplaying game manual via an actual play podcast: draw maps, leave blank spaces. Know the shape of your story but leave yourself space to improvise and embroider later on.
Pick a good entry point. Expanding on the point above, (imo) the best way to get started is to have a small core cast with clearly-defined relationships reacting to some kind of status-quo altering event, and then building the plot and world out from there. For example: what happens when the elderly king's only living child dies? Does he divorce his also-elderly wife and marry his 20-year-old sidepiece in the hopes of producing a new heir, or does he reconcile with his estranged brother and declare him heir? That's a cast of four (five if you count the dead son) with a lot of baked-in drama and intrigue. Readers are going to want to know what happens next. I want to know what happens next. Someone write this story and send it to me.
A lot of the rest of the guide I have drafted is just me tiredly making a case for making sims who don't look exactly identical, so I'll save that for another day.
ETA: no tips for the hat slider, sorry. i’m constantly fucking that one up, too.
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mayfly-maycry · 5 days
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I saw you mention you’re watching one piece and you got me wondering: what are your fav anime’s and why?
My very first official ask :0 let’s do this :)
Oh boy, *cracks knuckles* my favorite topic!
This got longer than I thought, so a cut for those who don’t want to hear my thoughts on like 11 different animes. They’re in chronological order of when I watched them, since the degree I like a show at any given point is incredibly variable haha
Fullmetal Alchemist (specifically Brotherhood): this was one of my first animes, and I’m a huge fan of the alchemy system, plus an excellent balance of trauma and happy endings. I think I need to rewatch it, since I’ve been informed that there’s a lot I missed because I watched it before I developed standards/critical thinking skills.
Attack on Titan: this was my introduction to anime, but it only gets better on rewatch. The attention to detail is insane; you can pick out details related to reveals SEASONS later. I didn’t even notice until I rewatched it back in December, but AOT is so full of jokes that it would’ve been a comedy if the stakes were any lower.
My Hero Academia: look, hear me out, I know what the fandom’s become, but it’s not like that. First of all, you lose a lot in the anime; Horikoshi has thought through a lot more of how a “world with superpowers” differs from ours than you ever see in the anime. A lot of it is small things, like how the clothing industry accounts for metamorphic quirks; the biggest issue is how dirty Villain Academia was done; the anime cut like half of the bad side of superpowered society, and by extension the villain motivations, out with that. Personally, the ending I’m rooting for is Shigaraki tearing apart society, being defeated (not redeemed), then Deku working to build it back up better; unfortunately, it looks like that’s not happening from where the manga is headed.
Demon Slayer: tbh, I don’t have much to say about this one. The art is gorgeous, the powers are cool, and I enjoy watching it. That’s enough for me.
Haikyuu: it’s a bunch of boys being boys. I love them all dearly. That’s all. If I remember correctly, I also unlocked the “character analysis” skill when I watched this the first time so props on that.
Jujutsu Kaisen: I don’t even know anymore man, I’ve been watching, reading, and loving this story for so long I can’t even pinpoint what I like about it anymore. Still highly recommend.
Spy x Family: I love the characters and their interactions. This one may or may not be related to a crossover fic dropping Itadori Yuuji and Saiki Kusuo in here that’s been brewing in my head for a while now.
Bungo Stray Dogs: this is another one where I love the characters. The power system is pretty cool and the plot is mid at best, but the characters *cheff’s kiss* are phenomenal.
The Disastrous Life of Saiki K: this was the first and only story I’ve ever seen using an omniscient first person POV, and the way it was done was masterful. You, the viewer, have the same knowledge as Saiki; you can see disasters coming just as well as he can. And since he is practically omnipotent (and his motivations align), he tends to take steps to rectify these situations, which is exactly what I generally want to reach through the screen and do. This resulted in one of the most satisfying watch experiences of my life. Highly recommend.
The Case Study of Vanitas: this is another one where it’s just a bunch of dumbasses messing around with a sprinkling of trauma. That’s it, that’s all I have to say. I very much enjoyed it.
One Piece: you mentioned this one in your ask, and I gotta say, I would not have committed to over 1000 episodes if it wasn’t on this list. Some people say it gets good around episode 300, but I thoroughly disagree; the genre just changes right around there as the villains get stronger than the Strawhats and the stakes rise. It was good before that, a bunch of dumbasses messing around on a boat, saving a nation from tyranny and fighting god along the way; my favorite. The attention to detail, character development (might have to revoke this one if the Weak Trio keep getting done dirty post-TS), the actually GOOD takes on real issues; I could go arc by arc, but this has gotten long enough haha 😅
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