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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 months

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I'd like to request a ShinyHunter!Reader giving their epilogue friends Pokemon they caught during their adventure (can be traded or gifted), with handwritten notes carefully taped inside their Pokeballs kinda explaining the meaning behind them:

Carmine - Authentic Polteageist

"I came to Kitakami as a stranger but left as your friend. It's my hope that this Pokemon and your beloved Sinistcha can be good buddies just as we are now."

Kieran - Roaring Moon / Iron Valiant

"I wanted to give you something that's just as rare, powerful, and wonderful as you are. Just as you found yourself through the darkness during the excursion in Area Zero, so too did I find this Pokemon."

Arven - Arcanine

"I wanted you and Mabosstiff to have a loyal, strong companion by your side, someone who will be by your side no matter what happens in life."

Nemona - Whatever the reader's starter was

"I wanted you to carry a piece of me in your party, since you've been the first friend to support and encourage me on my adventure."

Penny - Either Espeon or Glaceon

"I know you love a certain type of Pokemon, and I hoped this one would find belonging with your team - just like you've found it with me, Team Star, and the others."

Ik we can't trade shinies but damn it if gamefreak won't let us,,,we writers WILL make it happen

........

Carmine

One of the first things she learned about you during your trip to Kitakami was your obsession with shiny-hunting. You've done it all your life, with your first ever starter pokemon being a shiny, too!

You literally spend hours at a time running around different places, looking for Pokémon that either have a darker/lighter hue to their colors or looked incredibly different.

Tbh wonders if this is some Paldea craze bc no way could she see herself wasting so much time...

Despite that, your team of shiny 'mons had great stats and kicked her team down pretty good.

For a while she thought you were being the biggest show-off.

But after everything that happened with Ogerpon, the Loyal Three, BB Academy, Kieran, Terapagos, Pecharunt, etc..Carmine becomes one of your closest friends, learning to accept and support your passions for shiny hunting.

When she decides to trade you a Poltchageist, you surprise her by trading back a Shiny Polteageist with the authentic stamp, having found it by sheer luck.

Inside its pokeball, she discovers a note carefully taped within, and you assure her she can read it in front of you.

"To Carmine: I arrived to Kitakami as a stranger, but left as your friend, and I'm glad our bond has grown stronger. It's my hope that this Authentic Polteageist and your Sinistcha can become good buddies just like we have -[Y/n]"

She was so close to tearing up until she reads the word "authentic" and wonders how tf you managed to find such a specific Pokémon (especially a shiny authentic Polteageist).

"Well I had to set up a camp near Alfornada and then-" You almost start infodumping your hunting strategies, but she stops you with a hug instead.

"I promise they'll become the best of friends, and if not....then I'll...I'll make them be friends!" She huffs, while you just smile and hug her back, glad she appreciated the note.

Kieran

In Kitakami, he was always fascinated by your team of shinies, and at dinner he gawked when you brought up tales of your harrowing adventures in trying to find them.

For instance, you nearly got beaten up by some Mankeys before finding a Shiny Primeape somewhere nearby--but talked about it so casually. Like it was just another normal day for you.

You're not only strong, but very brave too..and he admires those traits.

Although when you two meet again at BB, it's just more fuel added to his jealousy of you. And he even comments about whether you wasted more time shiny hunting or training.

In the underdepths, you found a Shiny Carbink, and he tries catching it first---only for it to break out of the pokeball, and he scowls when you capture it without much trouble.

But after reconciling with each other and resolving the whole mess with Pecharunt, Kieran decides to trade you an Applin (after hyping himself up to ask you ofc).

You considered trading him one as well...

But you thought of something even better that also held special meaning:

A Shiny Paradox Pokémon you found when you returned to Area Zero to capture the alpha 'raidon.

More specifically, it was [Roaring Moon/Iron Valiant], and he was absolutely stunned when the creature pops out and greets him, unable to believe his eyes.

"W-Wowzers, you're actually gonna let me have one of.....huh?" It presents him with a note, handwritten by you.

"To Kieran: I wanted to give you something that's just as rare, powerful, and wonderful as you are. Just like how you've found yourself through the darkness back in Area Zero, I too found this Paradox Pokémon waiting for me. May it be your guiding light to future victories -[Y/N]"

He doesn't realize he's crying at your touching message until he sees several teardrops staining the paper.

How did he get so lucky to have such a caring and forgiving person like you in his life?

Arven

He knew about your shiny hunting hobby, although at times he thinks you're nuts for willing to risk life and limb for a slightly differently colored Pokémon.

You have notes about how you found a Shiny Garganacl, Copperajah, Gabite, Houndstone, and even an Iron Bundle--all down in Area Zero.

You explain that sparkling sandwich recipes make them show up more often, and he tries it out and is stunned when he finds a Shiny later on.

Ofc you take a little pride in teaching him something new.

When he visits the League Club and decides to trade Pokémon with you, it wasn't that hard to figure out what to give him.

He's stunned when it's a Shiny Arcanine with a note taped within the pokeball, addressed to him.

"To Arven: I've helped you and Mabosstiff before, and I will do so again. So here's a Pokémon who will be forever loyal to you both. No matter what curveballs life may throw at you, Arcanine will never leave your side -[Y/N] (PS: I've been calling this one Mustard, but you can give it a new name if you wish).

He laughs a little at the end of the message, as it brought a huge smile to his face.

"Not a bad name, buddy! Thank you..truly. I think Mustard and Mabosstiff will get along just fine."

Nemona

She'll thrilled you've found your calling as a shiny hunter during your Pokemon journey, but always reminded you not to forget about being her "rival for life", too.

When all is said and done, you invited her to the clubroom at the BB Academy with an idea.

Since she was the first person in Paldea to give you the encouragement to start your Pokémon journey, you wanted to give her something extra special to show your thanks.

Although first you had to pull her away from Kieran (who was startled by her demand for a battle) and distract her by proposing a trade.

Turns out she planned to do that exact same thing when she arrived....but got caught up in meeting a fellow champion and totally forgot in her excitement.

Anyways, you finally did a trade and Nemona's amazed when you give her a shiny version of your starter Pokémon (meanwhile, your fully-leveled starter ace is standing beside you, looking proud).

She's so hyped to rush outside and train it that she doesn't even see the note you left in the pokeball until the shiny gives it to her.

"Huh?? Oh! How could I have missed this??" She gasps dramatically before sitting down to read it over.

"To Nemona: You've always supported and encouraged me since the start of my Pokémon journey, and I couldn't be more grateful. So as my first friend and rival here in Paldea, I wanted you to carry a piece of me in your party. May you both grow stronger together -[Y/N]"

Her heart is just full as she reads the sweet note, before jumping up to crush you in a hug.

This really meant a lot to her--more than you ever know considering you've been her #1 source of encouragement, too.

Penny

Tackling all the Team Star bases definitely gave you an excuse to do some shiny hunting on the side, and you soon come across an Eevee.

It had a lonely/timid nature when you caught it, feeling like a misfit despite being in your party of shinies.

You weren't sure which form to evolve it into, as it didn't seem interested in any stone or in becoming your friend.

After helping Team Star and Penny redeem themselves and resolve the mess with Pecharunt, you have a small chat in her dorm room about Shiny Eeveelutions--to which she remarks her attempts to collect them, yet is having terrible luck so far.

She's well aware that Flareon, Glaceon, and Leafeon shinies look painfully similar to their counterparts (having slightly different hues) and expresses her frustration in the fact she could have seen one but didn't realize...

Later, you find Shiny Eevee digging through your bag, and you wonder why until it pulls out an ice stone.....and it finally occurs to you that it heard your conversation with Penny.

Seems like it finally made its choice.

So when you invite her to the League Club, you trade her a Shiny Glaceon, to which she just gawks like "are you fr???? I can have this one????"

Then she sees the note meticulously taped inside and reads it to herself.

"To Penny: I know how much you love a certain type of Pokémon. So I entrust you with this Glaceon, a true Shiny. I hope it finds belonging in your team, just like you've found it in me, Team Star, and all the others -[Y/n]."

She can't help the smile growing on her face, taking off her glasses to wipe at her eyes, all while Shiny Glaceon smiles and comforts her--proving that it's ready to be her new companion.

#clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pokemon sv x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #pokemon carmine #pokemon kieran #pokemon arven #pokemon penny #pokemon nemona #shiny pokemon #headcanons

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littlestarlulls · 6 months

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Gale of Waterdeep x Reader (Tav) Pt.2

Part two of this short drabble, please check it out! Again, some small spoilers to the Gale story route in BG3 (mountain pass).

Tav kicks small pebbles as they sit on the monastery roof. The sunrise rises slowly through the morning mist of the mountains and a cold breeze slowly passes through them, enveloping in warmth as the upcoming rays join too. They hadn't found the famed crèche that Lae'zel mentioned, but they were close. They could feel it.

~~~

Apart from the grandeur associated with partaking in the quest of freeing everyone from that damn parasitic worm, the last few days between you and Gale have been awkward, to say the least. Everyone could tell something happened that night, and aside from Karlach trying to tell funny stories and Astarion's quips, you mainly stayed off by yourself, lost in thought.

You haven't spoken a word to Gale. Part of it because you felt absolutely dreadful about your parting words, and another part felt still angry about being compared to his godly ex.

He hit a nerve, and he knew it.

It hurt being compared to someone you could never reach in both terms of power and his devotion. In truth, you didn't want much of the latter, but more wished that he saw you the same way that you saw him: the slightly lame but charismatic nerd that you came to slowly like over the last few weeks. Being compared to her brought up something within you. It was only a reminder that - bomb or not - his heart belonged to the weave incarnation in every single way, even in love. Even if that love came to tell him to end himself in such a cruel manner.

You wince recalling the conversation, the way his face twisted, hurt as you walked away wishing him well in his mission.

You did not mean to say those words. In truth, you were still firm on the belief that there must be something you guys could do about it.

There must be a way to avoid it. The party has already beaten up a good amount of enemies, so what can a dumb tentacle cult do?

But alas, Gale remained frigid in his stance. It drove you crazy to see him drop everything, even his life, at her mention. It was as if Gale himself didn't matter, that he was just but a useful pawn to her game. One that would willingly give himself up for the other chess pieces.

And it killed you.

A deep sigh escapes your mouth as you feel the wind pass over you. Were you on better terms with him, you both would have enjoyed this peaceful moment.

You missed it. You missed him.

~~~

Meanwhile, the wizard in question laid back in his tent's bedroll. He felt the morning sun as it peeked through the closed tent flaps straight into his vision. He did not mind it, however, as he was currently too busy considering the effects of invoking duplicity and having it slap across his face.

Maybe then it would feel better than the indifference in your eyes every time you glanced in his direction.

How could he have compared you to Mystra Herself?

He screams internally at himself.

It was unfair, to put them up against an overpotent goddess...

His thoughts did not focus on the essence of Mystra's divinity itself, however. Hell, in his eyes, you shone brighter than her. You were beautiful, absolutely enchanting. He would often find himself completely dumbfounded trying to find sufficient words to describe your brilliance.

Through the long journey, he came to fall in love with your essence, your small quirks. He liked to watch as you picked up every book you came to find only to read it later at camp, your extensive lust for exploration, the times when you secretly performed acts of kindness when you thought no one was not looking. He wanted to see more of it, wished to know you more. After a long time of solitude and isolation, he found himself craving to learn everything about you, to see the way you looked at him sometimes, and to hold you the same way you both did when sharing that moment in the weave.

But he had to go and - for lack of a better word - blow it all up.

He snorts over his own thoughts.

Of course, you were mad at him. It made sense. Your words had hurt him as much, but he was the one to first cast the spell. He didn't mean to say you were nothing for him. Mystra, the weave itself, has been all he has known his whole life. Ever since he was a child, he had revolved around the verse of magic, and when given this mission, he could not help but immediately accept it. Why, wasn't it his life's calling to devote himself to the weave?

He closed his eyes. Letting his mind wander around his memories of you, of your features.

That all came to change when you came into his life. You, who saw him as Gale Dekarios, not as the grand wizard that everyone expected him to be.

He had once yearned for divinity, for power just to be able to stand next to Her side...

But with you, he did not need to.

Just to sit next to you when having a meal at camp, laughing as you both watch Scratch playfully pull on Withers' clothes. The creases in your eyes as you smiled and the merry sound of your voice filled something in him, and the way you would treat him just as anyone else without any judgment or disdain had him completely whipped.

That's what made him worried. How could something so simple be so perfect at the same time? How do even small accidental touches of his hand with yours have him sparkle with electricity more than he ever was with the spells of the scrolls he poured over?

Gale sights to himself.

So yes, you are not Mystra. But just as you didn't see him for his power, he saw you for who you were. In his eyes, you were so much more than her, and that's what he came to realize as soon as those words came out of his mouth that day. Unfortunately, they left an aftertaste of the wrong meaning.

...

Maybe he should go with the slapping idea. Or maybe better, let him punch himself in the gut the way you could have done when you both shared that moment in the weave.

He chuckled bitterly.

It's only been a few days, but he missed it. He missed you.

~~~

-To be Continued-

Thought I might let this simmer for a bit as I like it quite a lot, haha. Your tags and comments have seriously made my week and I'm glad everyone likes this as much as I :> I'm not really a writer but I've got hyped up and wanna think of the last part throughoutly. Anyways, I hope you guys liked this one!

#gale dekarios x reader #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 #angst #bg3 x reader #romance #reader is tav

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manias-wordcount · 2 years

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Bruises (Miruko, Midnight)

Kinktober 2022 Day Twenty-Eight: Spanking, Choking

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

To you, it’s not just a job. At least, not anymore.

You see them every day. They’re in the ads that play on your TV. The news stories that show up in the paper. The interviews you hear over the radio. The video clips you watch on your phone. And they walk alongside you in the streets. Sometimes in costume. Sometimes not. Sometimes returning from a fight all safe and sound. Sometimes battered and beaten. Covered in bruises. But still alive. Still kicking. Despite all the dangers. Despite all the odds.

But that doesn’t change who they are. That doesn’t change the fact that they’re a Pro Hero. That they save people. That they save lives every single day. Performing a service that many are too afraid and too weak to do. And it's thoughts like these that make you think about how they have to live.

Maybe concealing their identity. Maybe never stepping out into the public. Avoiding this. Doing that. Things out of their control. Things that they have to so carefully control. All because of their job. All because of their lifestyle. The lifestyle that comes when you’re a Pro hero.

But that’s not you. It’s just not. You’re not a Pro hero. You’re nowhere close to being a Pro hero. You’re a hired whore. You do parties and private rooms and one-on-ones for cash. You keep identities secret, and you keep cocks warm. You spend most of your day naked with someone’s dick buried in between your thighs or your mouth sucking on someone’s clit. Sometimes the other way around. Sometimes in a different order. Sometimes not.

But you don’t have a job children aspire to have. You don’t have a job people send thank-you messages to through the TV. The bruises that you earn from work are the type you cover and hide with layers and layers of makeup and clothes. They’re nothing like ones earned from a battlefield. They are not something you can so easily wear with pride. Because you don’t save lives that they do. You don’t save the people like they do. But even then you’d like to think…

“You look so pretty like this, don't you bunny?”

You’d like to think that in your own special way, you save them.

“Yes…yes, I do,” You find yourself murmuring in between soft gasps of air as you answer Miruko’s question. The corner of said hero’s lips twitches upwards as her smile widens at your response. Your reward for your compliance is decided for you, and it’s decided quickly. It’s her hand adjusting its grip ever so slightly around your throat before starting to squeeze just a bit harder. And harder. And harder. “I…Miruko-”

You almost choke on her name, but you know it’s what she wants. It’s exactly what she wants as she grins down at you with a powerful look in her eyes. Your eyes flicker to her arm for a moment, sneaking a glance at your captor. Her gaze follows your eyes easily, and you know that from the way she subtly flexed her arms, letting her muscles strain and tense under your watchful eyes. It’s a show of power. A show of strength. A show of stability.

And a distraction from the hands of another coming down and laying a harsh slap to your ass.

You squeal at the impact, your head immediately trying to turn back to see the assailant. But your neck is still caught within Miruko’s firm grip. There’s nowhere for you to run as the Rabbit Hero's intense stare lays into you. And absolutely nowhere for you to hide as the woman she came here with comes up to your backside and places her hands on your bare flesh.

“Hey, pretty girl,” Midnight’s voice purrs directly in your ear. You can’t help but let out a soft noise of surprise- though the sound quickly melts into a pleasured moan as you feel her lips kiss the side of your jaw. Once. Twice. Three times as the R-rated Hero takes her sweet time pressing her into your back and kneading your ass with her hands. Drawing patterns into your skin. Squeezing it. Playing with it. Slapping it. And making it known that you weren’t just supposed to be servicing one client right now. “You didn’t forget about me, did you?”

You were supposed to be servicing two.

“N-no…” You stutter out in a harsh breath, almost yelping at the way Midnight’s left-hand makes contact with your raw ass cheek. She tuts her tongue at you- a sure sign that she doesn’t believe your little white lie as she reels back her right hand and hits that cheek now. This time you do- you do let out that whine you were holding in all this time, and the two women drink it in strides Miruko is quick to cut off the sound by adding more pressure and strength to the fist she has around your throat. “I- fuck…um…”

Behind you, Midnight continues her onslaught on your ass. Spreading your cheeks with perfectly manicured fingers before letting it all go and watching your backside jiggle and bounce with minimal effort. In between your desperate pants, the R-rated Hero asks for your color. And as you respond back with a whispered “green,” she hums approvingly, before pressing her lips against your shoulder- giving you the sweetest kiss as she goes back to focusing on your body. And as the Rabbit Hero flexes her fingers alongside your throat, she asks you if you’re enjoying yourself. If you missed them as much they missed you. And when you find yourself nodding along in her grip, the look in her eyes gets softer. Like as if that was what she needed from you more than anything at this moment. Not the sex. Not your body. But for someone to indulge her. For someone to indulge both of them. As if they were humans- not just heroes.

And at this point in your career, it’s something you know you shouldn’t be so horribly turned on by. Something that shouldn’t be making you make this big of a mess in your panties. Something that shouldn’t have you about to beg to feel more of. But you can’t help it. You just can’t. Like the two women in the room with you- you have wants. You have needs.

But that’s the thing. To you, it’s not just a job anymore. It’s a lifestyle.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself to justify all that you say and do.

Still, you know what you do is important in its own way. It’s a job you don’t tell people. It’s a job you don’t brag about. But you show up every day and you do it. And at the end of the day, your bruises may not show up in the same places. They may not show up in the same ways. But you know what you do is important. You know you’re saving people. You know that you’re saving them - in your own little way.

And sometimes you’ll come out safe and sound. Sometimes you’ll come out battered and beaten. Covered in those bruises. Sometimes on your neck. Sometimes on your ass. And sometimes, littered all around your body in spots you never think of. In spots you never see. But those are the fights you win. The fights that you came out alive. The fights that keep them still kicking.

Despite all the dangers. Despite all the odds.

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hulhudhonado · 2 years

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"I Think You And I Should Partner Up"

Part 1 | Part 2

Notes: My silly little headcanon for Pantalone is that he is someone who does his job too well so he is kind of bored of it. Meaning now he likes to use his money to do 'fun things'. I like to think he is also a very experimental and since he has the budget to do weird shit he just does. Have you ever had that weird feeling that you suddenly became very aware of yourself and have this realization that you have free will? Yeah he is constantly in that mindset. So now you, the reader will have to deal with his shenanigans. Sorry it's a bit shorter than the previous one. Enjoy. :)

CW: Blood, Self-inflicted injury, Poison consumption, Cursing, minor character death, mentions of fighting

HC: Reader is gender-neutral and has a masterless vision (Hydro). Reader is also a bit of an idiot in this one sorry.

Characters: Pantalone, Dottore (Mentioned)

Poison

When you first started working for Pantalone you expected him to be someone who did his work quite seriously. However, after observing him, you began to realize he was far from it. He was constantly bored, only putting in the bare minimum effort to get things done.

Reading and answering documents? If it wasn't from the Tsarista herself he barely even glanced at it.

Setting a budget? You watched in horror when he just wrote a million mora cheque and handed it to the fatui soldiers within a heartbeat.

Writing reports for the end of the month? He wouldn't even double-check it after he was done writing.

You began to wonder whether you were going to be ok working under this man when he looked like he barely put any thought into any of the work he was doing. That was before you read his reports.

His handwriting was what caught your eyes first. It was elegant, almost as if it was printed directly onto the paper. If you had not witnessed him writing the reports in front of your eyes you almost wouldn't believe it was written by hand There were no scratched-out works to indicate a spelling mistake or even a spill of ink on the paper.

His writing was also straightforward. You were quite impressed seeing how detailed he could get while making sure not to write any unnecessary information. "You wrote this in one setting?" you asked, skimming through his writing once more. Pantalone looked at you, tilting his head a bit to see your face which was still face-deep in his reports. He wondered why you were so impressed.

"After you write 100 of these it becomes muscle memory. It all feels the same to me." He answered, waiting for you to finally look up from the paper. Realizing you weren't going to stop reading, he huffed annoyed, grabbing the paper out of your hands.

You glared at him, to which he responded with a smile. "Let's do something fun. I'm tired of looking at these already."

Other than his unbothered attitude towards work, you found out that he had quite a twisted personality. His definition of 'fun' was helping you discover your new vision powers. However, unlike a normal person, he always tried to find a way to mess with you while doing so.

You were not blessed by the archons to receive a vision and that was one of the reasons you resented your sister. However, now that you held your sister's masterless vision in your hand, shining as brightly as it did when she was alive you wondered if the vision itself was a curse.

Before you started to work for him, you had to explain to Pantalone how you had gotten your hands on an active vision without being bestowed one personally. He listened eagerly as you began to recall the moment you were almost beaten to death by his soldiers. It pissed you off a bit having to recall a situation that was completely avoidable if his subordinates weren't suck dicks but you continued till the end.

"So I assume you are a healer then? Your ability to heal quickly is quite extraordinary." He asked excitedly. You roll your eyes, sitting back against the velvet cushioned seat, sinking into the comfort of the chair. You didn't expect him to ask so many questions. At this point, he pretty much heard your entire life story since you left Snezhnaya.

"If we somehow found a way to reactivate masterless visions as you did, then maybe we could get rid of the whole delusion production we have going on here. " Pantalone remarked, getting up from his seat. He made his way to his desk, pulling out what seemed to be an envelope opener from his desk. The sharp edges made it fitter to be a dagger. "It would make the process cheaper." He finished, slightly glazing his fingers across the edge of the knife.

You irked an eyebrow at him, wondering what nonsense he planned on pulling now. He smiled at you, making his way back to you. Instead of sitting back in his seat across from you, he stood right next to you. Pulling his glove off his right hand, he began to speak. "Since you are a healer, and a quick one at that, I want to see if that applies to others as well."

Before you could react, he stabbed himself in the palm, dragging the blade from the bottom of his pinkie to the end of his wrist. You jumped out of your chair in shock, knocking back the chair which lead to a resounding thud in the room. You stared at him in disbelief. He put the dagger down on the table, which stained the white cloth lace effectively. He pushed his scarred bloody hand toward you. "Fix it."

You were surprised to see how unphased, his smile never escaping his lips. You could feel a sudden pressure fill the room. You didn't know what you did to heal yourself before, the healing just happened on its own and now Pantalone wants you to heal him in an instant!

You could feel yourself panic, his eyes watching you carefully while you tried to process what to do next. Maybe it was the ringing in your ears due to the stress which made you lose your train of thought or the way you could see his blood flowing between his fingers and dripping on the red carpet floor but without a second thought, you reached for his hand, slowly bringing it towards your lips.

Pantalone watched you, dumbfound, as you placed a soft kiss on his hand. Almost in an instant, he could see stitches made of water form, mending his skin and cleaning up his wounds. The water shined a bright blue light which highlighted all the details of your face. After the wound was stitched by the water threads, the light faded like vapor into the air. It almost looked as if he had never stabbed his hand at all. The only proof it happened was from the blood laced on the knife, the floor, and now on your lips. He wondered if it would stain. Red seemed to be your color.

You let his hand go and he pulled it closer to his face, inspecting it. No scabs or scars. Almost an instant recovery. His face of shock began to spark into a smile. You could see his eyes light up with excitement like a man who had just won the lottery. "What am I? Some kind of prince for you to kiss my hand like that?" He laughed, as he watched your face heat up.

"I panicked! I have never done this before!" You retort back, trying to forget the stunt that you just pulled. "Just be glad it worked!" You huffed, crossing your arms and turning away so you would no longer have to face him anymore.

He watched as you turned away from him. 'Exciting.' He thought again. He has never seen someone with the ability to heal this quickly. Questions flooded his head in an instant. How many times you could heal yourself in a battle until your limit was reached? How many people you could heal at once? What exactly was too much? He just had to find out.

He pulled out a handkerchief from his coat. "Well you better start finding another way to heal, I don't think I can explain to my coworkers why my new bodyguard keeps kissing me whenever I get hurt." You turned back around to yell at him only to be stopped by a handkerchief being placed on your lips, wiping off the blood that was on your face. Sadly for him, the color didn't stain.

---

Another thing you noticed when working alongside Pantalone was the fact he kept most meetings with clients short. So imagine your surprise when he kicked you out of his office for longer than 30 minutes. You stayed stationed out his door, whistling a tune out of boredom. You were not allowed to venture far away from him since you were technically his bodyguard, but you never could stay in the same room as him while he conducted his meetings since you were not a registered Fatui soldier.

You could hear panicked muffles and the moving of chairs inside the room, indicating that he was done. You stood up straight against the wall, watching his client storm out of the room in a hurry. You curiously peeked inside to see Pantalone still in his seat. His eyes locked with yours and his fake smile drifted away, forming into a more genuine one. He beckoned you inside and you complied.

He stood up from his seat, stretching his limbs while you entered the room, closing the door behind you. "Tough meeting?" "Very." He answered, yawning. "He just wouldn't give up. He said I was being cheap with the costs."

You hummed at him, making your way toward him. You eyed his desk. There were two cups and a teapot placed for both him and his guest. One cup was visibly empty while the other one remained full. "You're not going to drink that?" You asked.

Pantalone looked down at the cup of tea before giving you a shrug. "Not really." He turned to look out the window. His client slowly made his way toward the gate. His movements becoming more sluggish the closer he went to the door. Pantalone watched him as he began to slow down before completely passing out on the snowy floor. He didn't even make it past the gate. The fatui soldiers nearby began to drag him out of Pantalone's vision. He sighed to himself, turning back to face you. The cup of tea was no longer on his desk and in your hands.

He watched in horror as you placed the cup of tea to your lips. You drank it in an instant, licking your lips to make sure you got every last drip of it. It was sweet and you could taste a hint of floral in it. "What was in it? Limp grass? Sweet flower?" You asked, you had never tasted such a unique blend before.

"Poison." "Huh?" The room fell entirely silent. You and Pantalone stared at each other, waiting for something to happen. He spoke up again. "It was poison."

Your hands began to shake. "Why did you poison both cups?!" You shouted, the cup dropping from your hands and shattering on the ground. You grabbed your neck, you could feel it tingle and you began to worry the effects were already happening. "It was just the easiest option! Why did you drink it in the first place?!" He yelled back, making his way towards you. He grabbed you by the shoulders to hold you steady.

"It smelled nice! I didn't want it to go to waste!" You retort back. Pantalone grabbed you by the face, roughly turning your head around while you could feel tears stream down your face. You didn't want to die because of something so stupid. The tears were more of embarrassment than fear. "Do you feel anything?" Pantalone asked, a lot quieter. His face was full of concern trying to see if any of the visible symptoms he was told would surface on you.

You shook your head, the tears still streaming down your face. "My throat just feels a bit tingly, nothing else." You answered, sniffling a bit. Pantalone frowned. The poison effects were supposed to be in an instant. He had just watched someone die by the exact poison that you consumed. However, it seemed nothing was happening at all. "Are you perhaps immune to it?" He asked. His hand never left your face. He wiped some tears away as you slowly began to calm down.

You could feel yourself frown too. He let you go when you pushed him away to touch your face and neck again, you really did not feel anything else. His face of concern now lighting up again. You knew that face the minute he began to smile again. It was his 'something fun' face. You could feel yourself turn red from embarrassment. "You mean I was crying over nothing?" You mumbled, now ashamed of thinking you were going to die such a stupid death.

"How fascinating!" Pantalone exclaimed, you watched him circle you excitedly, looking you up and down as if you were the most incredible thing that he has ever witnessed with his eyes. "You're immune to poison! That's incredible! Do you know how common it is to be poisoned like that? This is wonderful." You watched as he excitedly babbled to you. "I thought I was going to die!" You whined, covering your face in your hands to hide your shame while he continued to circle you.

Pantalone was having the time of his life. Not only were you a quick healer, but you also were immune to poison! Ever since he had met you again it felt like he was a child discovering the world for the first time. His usual harbringer life which was only full of paperwork and meetings now had some spice to it. He looked at you, seeing the red tint on your face seeping through the gaps of your fingers. 'Red was most certainly your color' he thought, a playful grin resting on his face. What other surprises could you show him? He just had to know.

"I wonder…" You immediately look up from your hands to see him eye the teapot on his desk. You put two and two together. He looked back at you, your eyes locking and now stuck in a staring match, waiting to see who would make the next move. Pantalone was the first to break, immediately diving towards the teapot. You followed suit, trying to grab it before he could do something stupid yet again.

Sadly you were not quick enough. He grabbed the pot putting it up to his lips, chugging the tea from the spout. He dropped the teapot after he was done, the pot crashing right next to the shattered cup on the floor. You could see tea drip from the side of his mouth. He smirked at you, while all you could do was stare at him in disappointment. "Fix it."

---

You healed him again. Since you began training to use the vision you were glad this time you could conjure up your healing magic through your hands instead of having to kiss him. He frowned when you did so. "It would have been a lot more fun if you had kept kissing me instead." You rolled your eyes at him. "Just be glad I bothered saving you. You could have died just now!" He gave you a wide smiled grin that you wanted to punch right off his face. Who knew he would be such a pain in the ass to work with.

He lay on the couch, still recovering from the poison he had consumed. The side effects of the poison were still present even after you had saved him from certain death. It seemed your healing ability was mostly efficient to you than to others. You noted that you probably had to train more to improve this. "It was a powerful poison. I'm surprised the only thing you felt was a tingle." He groaned, clutching his head in pain. "Who would make such a poison like that?" You asked, immediately reaching to fetch the bottle of water on the stand nearby. You handed it to him and he gladly took it.

"The Doctor of course. Well to be fair, I commissioned him to make it." He answered, chugging the bottle within seconds. "I wanted to find more interesting ways to, uh, get rid of unwanted presences and he always delivered as long as I funded it." Pantalone didn't look you in the eyes when he said it. He handed you the water bottle which you kept back on the stand, alongside the rest of the empty bottles of water that he had been chugging down for the past few hours. You found the easiest method to heal others was using a consumable material. You picked another bottle out from a pack from the floor, expelling your magic to give it healing properties. You sighed, looking at Pantalone who watched your hands carefully as they lit up with magic droplets and rings of water.

"The poison itself didn't do anything exciting. He just went into a fit, stormed out saying it was too hot in here, and just passed out on the snow." You looked at him, disapprovingly. He looked up at you innocently. " Do you REALLY not have anything better to do?" He hummed, which was enough to make you sigh once again.

"The poison was not that exciting, but I'm glad I got to see you do something fun again." You glared at him and he returned it with another wide toothy smile.

"I want to kill you."

"Go ahead, make a mess of me."

#pantalone genshin #pantalone x reader #genshin x reader #fatui x reader #slow burn #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader

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charm-in-spades · 4 months

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Describe yourself from your point of view.

Caelric rarely looked in the mirror when he could help it. The habit had started at a relatively young age around the time his father, considered such only by the biological contributions provided in his conception, had taught him to see only weakness in himself. In his adult years, Caelric had never really gotten over it. Similar reasons were behind his evasive gaze and why he rarely made eye contact with others. He feared that they would see the same things he saw in himself.

But what did he really see when looking at his reflection?

He caught sight of himself after washing his face and could not help but wonder. This time he looked. He really looked. What always struck him first was the bitterness present in his eyes, giving his visage a harsher look alongside the hard set of his jaw. There was something animal in his expression, distrusting even when looking upon himself. It was mixed with a wash of shame. A deep sense of guilt and trepidation that persisted with a haunting intensity behind his eyes for all the things he'd done and for all the things that had been done to him. It made him look a little older. Sterner.

It presented the primary reason behind his grins and smirks and the main reason why he rarely smiled. A smile was too much, and too comfortable which admittedly wasn't a common experience either. He could fake a lot with ease, but his genuine state of being was ultimately distrust towards others coupled with a deep unhappiness and longing for things he'd never quite had. He could not help but assess and deduct at those around him and it was obvious even in how he analyzed his own visage. Like the man in the mirror might not be real.

He knew that most that saw him did not look beyond the surface of tattooed flesh and lethal musculature. They saw a man that looked like he could handle himself, because that's what he wanted people to see. They did not see what was always present: Fear. Worry. Concern. For himself, for others, for the things he held dear. He never felt powerful, or strong even if he looked it. More often, he felt like he was barely able to hold on to what he cared about. When he couldn't, that was his deepest shame and inadequacy and he had experienced far too much of that.

Deep beneath it all though, he saw something else. The spark beyond the darkness that always kept him going. A word he hated and loved in equal measure: Hope. It festered somewhere deep inside, rebellious as his spirit and unwilling to be beaten down. The reason he always pushed forward beyond the pain and suffering. Hope that he might actually find peace. That he would be worthy of the unerring love so few had given him, and that he could measure up to whatever people like Vaza or Lucien saw in him. He was never entirely sure that he did, but he had been more willing to exist within that belief more often than not.

He stood a little taller after that, not quite sure what he'd made of himself after such introspection. With all his impressive insight that he could make of others, he rarely turned that talent inward. The wounds left behind by others were too deep and too long standing to fully heal, but he felt a little more...comfortable. Like he wore his skin a little better than he'd ever had before. He thought maybe, just maybe, he could begin to see himself as others did. Proud. Strong. Dependable. He supposed he was those things as well. His most daring steps forward were only just beginning, but he figured this might be a good start.

For a second, he stood uncertainly in front of the mirror and watched himself before very slowly, attempting the smallest of smiles. It was a meek kind of expression, something that seemed unfamiliar and he realized belatedly that he'd probably never seen himself smile as rarely as it occurred. There was a bit of youthfulness that returned when he did so, a boyish and almost unbothered expression that surfaced. It was odd to see, but not unwelcome, and he saw why Vaza enjoyed seeing the expression surface. He felt a little better after that and left the bathroom, all the while his reflection watching him depart.

Brief mentions of @vazaymir & @glowinggunmetal. Enjoy! (:

#Stories #Baselines #Asks and Answers

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creativecourse · 5 months

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NLP Copywriting Mastery Information The Internet Changed Everything and It Could Mean the Demise of Your Business If You Don’t Learn This Powerful Skill Before It’s Too Late… There used to be a day when the old phrase, “If you build it, they will come…” was somewhat true. Now, that’s just a pipe dream… Today, we live in an world where people are overwhelmed and oversaturated on a daily basis. People are more skeptical, more cynical and more closed-minded than ever before. The result? It doesn’t matter how good your product or service is (or how good your intentions are)… most people will probably reject you. I remember feeling the sharp sting of having a great product that I knew would help people, but for some reason, few people were buying. I was in my mid-twenties… a single dad, working in a career I hated. I was trying to figure out a way I could get more people to even consider my product. I knew if I could just get people to pay attention, I would be able to sell more product, help more people and quit my stinkin’ day job. I was frustrated to the core, feeling completely beaten and rejected, until a trusted friend read my website and solved the mystery for me. Copywriting was the missing piece. When I learned it, not only did I start selling more than ever before, but within a very short time, I was being paid to professionally write copy for others and watching their sales skyrocket, too. Are you the kind of person who wants to find out how to make your product or service irresistible? Then read on… Think of a time in your life when you saw something you just had to have… Something that practically made your mouth water… As you think of much you wanted that “irresistible thing,” the thought of getting it tickles your mind and calls out your name, and you find yourself saying, “I have to get this…” And as you go back to that time, now, thinking about what you saw or heard that made you feel you want this thing so much, locate that growing feeling of desire inside of you… That’s the feeling you want every customer to have when they read about your product or service. So how do you get people to feel this feeling of deep desire when they come to your website, read your brochure, or see your ads on social media? Hi, my name is Michael Stevenson. I’ve been a business consultant to some of the most celebrated, powerful and successful people in the world. I’ve been professionally writing “copy” (the text that makes up an ad or marketing piece) since 1998, both in my own highly-successful businesses and as a professional copywriter for hire. I’ve been fusing copywriting with NLP (Neuro-Linguistic Programming: the gateway to the mind) for over 18 years. Copywriting is the art of creating words that make people practically salivate over your products and services, and even though it seems like magic, it’s a learnable skill and you can come to master this easier than you may think. Typically, hiring a copywriter to write even one page of copy for your business costs anywhere from $3,000 to $10,000… even $20,000, because once you’ve found the solution to create words to stimulate unstoppable desire within your clients, your profit potential is virtually unlimited. Of all the things in business and marketing, the most powerful thing I’ve ever learned is how to write in a persuasive way that gets people to buy, combining copywriting with Neuro-Linguistic Programming. If you’re a business owner, marketer, or copywriter this could be the big break you’ve been looking for… If You’re Sick and Tired of Knowing You Could Be Generating More Leads, Closing More Clients and Enjoying More Profit, But Not Sure How, Then Copywriting is the Missing Key to Your Success Marketing, online or offline, is no longer about just statistics and demographics… To survive in this rapidly changing world, you need to truly understand the psychology of the mind and how people make decisions. For example, did you know… There are certain colors, numbers

and visuals that people are subconsciously drawn to and attracted to more than others? (some may be used on this page) That different personality types will respond to different kinds of motivation statements and ignore the rest.Learning this can almost double your prospects’ interest (by letting you appeal to 44.7% to 54.9% more people than before) That there are certain words that are so penetrating that they go directly into the subconscious mind (discovered by famed psychiatrist, Dr. Milton H. Erickson, M.D., and so powerful, he refused to teach them to ordinary people like you and me) That one, and only one, particular aspect of your product or service will determine how long or short your copy should be? And that if you get it wrong, statistics show that your audience simply won’t buy (maybe this is why they aren’t buying now) That there are secret ways to subliminally influence your audience to act that can be used in print and online? (Yes, I’m using them somewhere on this page and I’ll tell you exactly where when you watch the course) That there are mental “filters” through which people will be reading your marketing messages (three sensory inputs, four learning styles, and sixteen personality types). Miss even one, and you’ll lose a percentage of your audience. But chances are you’re missing, not one, but at least 66% to 75% of them. Speak to all of them all and you’ll potentially double your sales or more with this skill In This Video Home Study Training, Taught by NLP Master and Marketing Coach, Michael Stevenson… You’ll discover why you have the capability to be a great copywriter, even if you think your writing stinks! You’ll learn how to sell your products or services with great copy on your website, in your ads, brochures, mailers and even social media You’ll find out how to use NLP (Neuro-Linguistic Programming — the science of the mind) in your copywriting to get even more sales You’ll gain masterful skills from copywriting legends without the years of education and experience it took them to achieve it (through the NLP process of “modeling”) You’ll learn how to use ethical influence and persuasion in copy with step-by-step instructions and checklists You’ll discover and master influencing through stories. Facts tell, but stories sell. You’ll learn one of the most powerful and covert ways of influencing others through story-telling You’ll learn research tactics to zero in on your “dream client” and know how to find them anywhere and speak their language so they naturally want to say yes You’ll complete the training knowing everything you need to know to get better results from your marketing, for the rest of your life, easily and effortlessly You’ll learn insider secrets of copywriting not taught in any other copywriting or marketing course You’ll know exactly what and how to write to sell practically anything using written word Your competitors will wonder what the heck happened as you “steal” client after client, right out from under their nose This is the most ADVANCED and practical, copywriting home study training anywhere. What you’ll learn in this course will, by far, exceed anything you’ve learned in any other copywriting or marketing course and is suitable for both newbies and experts More courses from the same author: Michael Stevenson

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cosmicangel888 · 1 year

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The Vows We Keep ~ the Life We Create ~ 5D ~ Making Sense of True Safety

There is something to be said for the awakening into true self safety; when you know deep within you that there is nothing you need outside of you to live a purely enlivened healthy, abundant, youthful, and safe life;

Those that have come from intentional, dysfunction, malicious abuse in subtle, covert, and unhealthy ways; feel as if they are living on a constant state of 'flight, fight' and never will there be a moment of not feeling taken, stolen, always on edge and always in distrust and disguise; and I ask......are you truly living is this is you?

That is ok; for I have been there, and just coming out of and I have shared my journey with great hope, enlightenment that my truthful and raw stories will assist anyone feeling as if they have been beaten so many times, they just cannot get back up; I inspire you and fill you with profound loving hope; please get up, you will make this and you not only will you make this, but you will fucken arise like you never imagined.

To feel safe; write down every day a circle of intention;

What will it take to make you feel safe;

emotional safety is.........

physical safety is...........

spiritual safety is...........

mental safety is............

For each person, the depths and widths is vast and varied and so incredible to start the process of what you find when you do so;

You will go through a divine maturation; what you thought you needed you really didn't and none of what you think is your answer is not.....

So keep going - keep using the 'circle of intention' Ⓒ and keep working in every day - these are my personal tools offered for years in private sessions, classes, webinars and books that will help you truly get to the inner realm, the inner connection you are always within that is God - the God part of you and as you peel back the illusions of what you may have been taught about God, shown, told, know you know a higher deeper version of God;

That is why; who are you - and doing the inner work will be the only way in which you get there - here, now within - only you can do this with God - the inner pure intent to feel better, to be a higher version of you and more relaxed confident version of you - the success is held within the owning, claiming, nurturing of who you have always been; yet veiled with misguidance, illusions, and false notions, beliefs;

When you do such inner work; you prove to yourself the wisdoms, the inner awakening, the inner guidance, the inner depths, the inner widths that you are capable of and it is never found outside of you - so thus then, your connection, activations that are multi-dimensional and can BE FELT - the essence of GOD CAN BE FELT; and all that awaken and DO THE WORK will testify -

Truth and inner truth is divine and sacred; and it cannot be tricked, fooled, stolen, taken; none can take what you know - and what Jesus truly meant when he said such; 'they cannot take what I know' the evening before his crucifixion - it matters not what the outer world wants to push on you, press on you, and what you are are convicted of - the inner truth of purity of alignment and all the false stories and narratives that others have done, created; you know what you know

Know thyself - and you get to take yourself there and in being so; God will assure of your eternal life, eternal gifts, and a higher vantage point for you have done the inner work and shared with joy, excitement, inner child knowing; all will return

This is the way = Divinity is - safety always is, and none can knock you out of this; the blackmail, the enslavement, the bidding that the darker side does to create its own underground economy and the devils bidding devils to bring in their own darkness to darkness; all is the imploding of itself for it did not claim its own power, light, energy, and voice;

Know thyself --> Heal thyself --> LOVE IS --> God Is, and IT is not what you thought or were told!

Nothing, from the purity of within can be replicated; period.

youtube

Source is Source and why all will be abundance in being so,

Blessings and light,

Joanna

#ascension #enlightenment #awakening #spiritualhealing #selfhealing

[email protected]

#God #Source #universalOneness #Unity #oneness

#selflove #healingourchildren

#One #healingtrauma #healingabuse

#Youtube

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lets-talk-spirituality · 1 year

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hello mod! it's my first time being here and i'm just scrolling and really interested in your hard work. your love for anything spirituality-related is apparent and greatly appreciated! i am clairsentient, but unfortunately i am unable to do readings on myself (my divine guardians are probably looking out for me lol) But i was wondering, could you channel anything about my soulmate? Anything regarding appearance, personality, literally anything you might find important about them / our connection like where we might even meet? Love ya! :) xoxo

Hi! Thank you. It’s not always love that drives me with spirituality, in fact a lot has been desperation lol. When everything is falling down there’s only one place to turn. I’ll do my best to see what comes up.

Green. Green clover fields, spring time. I feel like maybe your person grew up somewhere off the beaten path with lots of fields or hiking maybe, valleys. Fresh forest scents. Like evergreens, crisp air, so somewhere that gets cooler, I’m thinking north, very New England America vibes, not necessarily there but similar like topographically, white linen and swaying laundry, a very simple person, very down to earth and calm. Very chill, like I almost get this like home on the prairie vibe like they just want to sit in the wood house and read, maybe they are into off-grid style living? Maybe they’re very sustainable and environmental, that feels very right to me, so they may be a little extreme. I definitely get sort of hippie vibes with like flowing hair, flowing clothes. I feel some tension in the top of my shoulders so I’m thinking they may engage in a lot of physical labor, maybe logging or something like that for work, maybe even construction?

What say you soul mate?

Very quiet and shy, sort of not much of a talker I’m getting, like much more of an observer and listener, very thoughtful before speaking. What they want you to know? (Lol) All is well (this feels so on brand for their vibe) Don’t worry or stress, allow life to flow like the river over rocks, let life mould you, but never break you down. You never know where the pieces of you are being spread, you never know what future that leads to, you never know where you’re headed, like dandelions let your wishes drift in the air (I think they may be very spiritual with nature, an animist, and maybe follow a lot of more native viewpoints about spirituality and the planet, very very connected to the earth) I think you need to look at the sky more, take in the stars and remember they shine regardless. My love, I think you’ve forgotten that stars don’t care how bright other stars are, they shine their unique power and light, you don’t need to outshine anyone, you need to see that you don’t compare with anyone for you are beautifully and wonderfully made. You don’t need to compete, you need to release and receive. You need to heal the internal feminine and mother within you. This will allow you to move out of your own way. (This person feels almost like a monk, or like highly evolved to me, very wise and understanding, very calm, it feels like you maybe need their energy and assistance more than they need yours at this time)

To call on this energy from your soul mate, go outside and ground yourself in nature, bask in the color of green like bright grass green specifically. Oh maybe this has to do with your heart chakra? That can be tied to healing your energy of reception. Maybe you have grief that you need to heal and clear. Wow. Yeah, definitely do some heart chakra meditations. And let yourself cry, definitely let yourself cry as much as you need. Stop trying to be so strong all the time, be human instead. Listen to soft music, solfeggio sounds for heart chakra, allowing yourself to breakdown your walls will allow you to feel the love and peace of your soul mate more.

Card pull

Ugh I just have this strong feeling of like you having been through a lot of like pain and grief and that it’s blocking you from your own manifestations and magic. Like I’m feeling anxiety in my heart and my head is tingling as I write this. Whatever you’ve been through that you’re holding onto, I feel like I need to cry now. Baby. You gotta open up to life again. Even if you’re scared. Wow. Yeah I’m not sure but I feel like so much coming up in my heart chakra right now. So I did yours differently bc this message isn’t coming about your soulmate, I’m strongly getting they are trying to support you. I saw in my mind a card from the starseed oracle deck I have so I pulled a tarot and two oracles. The starseed oracle card I feel like goes along with this energy is cracked open “surrender to the alchemy of life” “don’t let the weight and density of the world squash your tender spirit”

Tarot card

Queen of wands upright

To me this is asking you to find your way back to your fire, your strength, your leadership, to find your passion again. Let the way you handle your pain and grow from it inspire you and others.

Starseed Oracle

I remember “soul plan, the fated life vs the destiny life”

Man something is majorly shifting for you baby. No wonder your soul mate wants to lend peace and calm and tranquility to you. You’re at a fork in the road between choosing your life for you or still playing the societal game. This card reminds you that you chose all the things that have happened in your life, trust your soul path, I feel you may be having internal and possibly career shifts. This card also talks about surrender. Whatever pain you are going through is trying to lead you to your soul path, allow it to. (Anxiety in my heart space) damn. Are you scared? Worried? It’s okay to be scared and have doubt of whatever this is. You’re being asked to do something different than before and it’s normal to be scared when faced with the unknown. But that’s not a reason to hold yourself back, it’s actually all the more reason to push forward.

Goddess Guidance

I asked what goddess you can draw on for strength at this time and you got Ishtar, boundaries “love yourself enough to say no to others demands on your time and energy”

Okay, well damn. I didn’t expect the reading to take this turn. I hope this helps you. Your soul mate is there trying to support you, you can share your stress and pain and burden with them. Just talk to them and open your heart space so they can send love to you. Sending you all the healing and strength as you make some big changes.

I’m hearing Kesha’s praying. If there is someone you need to forgive and release to karma, please do.

#channeled reading #channeled message #soul mates

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mountains-moving-91 · 2 years

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Un-Break Your Walk and Do It Kindly

Sometimes people go down bad roads…and they end up facing some pretty hard_core fucking consequences. Sometimes, chances are given to people when they are not warranted. Sometimes people pick a dark(ER) path, and they are given chance after chance to change…and THEY CHOOSE NOT TO - over and over again. Sometimes, when too many chances_to_change are given, bad things end up happening to good people. WE could even reverse this, for good times. But really, it doesn’t matter because at the end of the day, sometimes, chances go sideways, even for the good ones. And sometimes, what was once an opportunity (deserved or not), completely goes underwater. - Basically, misgiven chances, turned wrong choices, gone BOOM-er-ang.

It’s another pretty fine line, where GAMER1 mode comes in. We cannot stop evil. Hell, we can’t even stop all the bad from settling within some souls, but we can try to contain it. And sometimes that means we need to be better about the chances we are giving to people. Just to be clear, it gives me chills to say that. Because the opposite is very very true, depending on the vantage point of the game.

Look - I’ve watched so many people, people I loved, people that were good people - go sideways. Meaning, I know people who have killed themselves, I know multiple people that have been murdered, and I know a lot of people that have lost people they truly cared about to the game. And it doesn’t matter what game we talkin bout. We can play them all - Drugs, homelessness, mental illness, misfortune, shitty timing, dog ate the paper, whateva. It’s the aspect of the game that we should make matter. We at least need to make it matter more, without breaking the good that has already been built within. We all have to make better choices and it starts with how we are looking at people.

And this is where we are going to take a YOU-turn. You can decide what way your head goes. But, IF YOU ARE A BAD PERSON (and keep it real, you get to define what that means…) you can give yourself a chance to change. If you are judging, stop judging, If you are doing something you don’t like seeing in others - stop doing it. Basically - and you all know the saying - but ima say it anyways….BE THE CHANGE YOU WANT TO SEE. And if you aren’t out here trying to be part of the change, then ask yourself if you really deserve the kind of chance you are currently living? If not, step over. Because the colors, the choices, those breaking-in-a-bad-way, the filthy-rich, the deaf-and-the-blind, the broken&beaten, EX-FUCKING-CED-RA, are ALL the ones we gotta fight more for...

What does that mean? Basically, we just need to try harder to save this planet. If we don’t, the whole thing is going up in flames. Think about it for a minute - with all that’s going on in the world today, what is it going to look like in 5,10, 15 years? We can worry about the days, months, and years if we want. Or, we can start changing within ourselves, and leave the rest up to fate. Fate doesn’t look so good though, when the world is in a downward spiral - with technology/money/power increasing at a SUPER FUCKING FAST RATE.

Basically, ya’ll - DON’T GET STUCK in your position. Find a way to grow - for the better. Find a way to change - for the better. Even if the straight lifestyle isn’t really your thing, make an effort to be a better part of the bad. Even when you gotta fly low, try to at least fly a lil straighter. And you guys - you can do that just by being more kind to yourself - but don't forget about others.

#TimeChangesThings #speakupspeakout #BeBetterThanYOU-R #BACKTHEKIND #Chance2Change

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dewdrop-writes · 2 years

Note

Hello! I think asks are open, but I’m not sure, so if they’re not please ignore this!! I’ve read your sagau zhongli/reader stuff and I love it, and I was wondering if you could write about an au where Ei is the one who recognizes the reader? Maybe she’s about to strike them down but she sees the golden blood or stops for another reason. I just want reader to be loved by her since she’s almost always depicted as an asshole along with zhongli in the SAGAU (and I have a crush on her xD). Maybe reader is scared of her and hesitant to return her affections because if insecurities (she can’t be a god, she’s nothing special, ei is pretending to like her to betray her, etc) and ei feels a lot of shame and assures reader that she truly loves them?? I hope this isn’t too much 😅

Eternally yours

Oh yessss I LOVE Ei a lot!! I was. not a fan of her at the start of the Inazuma storyline (because of the vision hunt) but once the story actually unravelled I grew to LOVE her <3

Also merry (late) christmas/happy holidays to everyone! I planned to have this up yesterday but we had guests over and man. That was exhausting. I hope this is okay! I was having a rough time with ending it in a way that felt right, but I hope you enjoy!

cw: slight mention of injuries, insecurities

Length: 3.3 k

You had never really been exceptional. Or special. And you hadn't minded all that much. The life of a protagonist was not one designed to you and you happily lived the life of a background character, going about your life day to day.

However, you too, needed an escape from the dullness of reality. A getaway to a world of magic and wonder. A world where you were powerful - and respected. So - you began playing a game - something to fill in the dull blanks of your life.

On more than one occasion, you had wished to live in the world of Teyvat. A world so different from yours, where you could spend time with these exceptional and special people - and perhaps even be one yourself. Your own spot in the limelight - a main character with powers beyond comprehension.

Well. You had not expected it to play out in the way it did.

Waking up in Teyvat had been amazing. You were excited to explore it and make friendships, even if this was all a strange dream.

You had not expected to become the antagonist of the game you so adored.

And you were very much beginning to fear this was no dream.

As you laid before the Shogun - the electro Archon herself - with her polearm aimed at your bruised and beaten figure, you hoped you would find escape, at last.

You were willing to reclaim the monotony of your life. Anything would be better than being hunted down wherever you set foot - vicious words hurled at you, followed by attempts on your life.

You had hoped Inazuma was different. You had hoped to find solace in your favorite nation of the game - at least some mercy from your favorite character.

But you found none.

And now, you were too tired to keep on fighting.

Your body ached - a testament to the beatings you'd received, the rough attacks upon your body. You could still almost feel the electricity coursing through your body, dancing through your nerves painfully.

So you laid back and closed your eyes - awaiting the final blow to end your misery.

It did not come.

You opened your eyes as you heard something clatter upon the cold, stone floor below you.

Before you stood the ever proud Shogun - her harsh expression having melted into one of shock - fear, almost. Her arms dangled beside her as she stared at you, eyes wide and lip trembling.

She was next to clatter onto the floor, landing on her hands and knees as she kept her gaze upon you - looking frantic. Looking animalistic.

You glanced down at your body, to see what could possibly bring forth such a sudden change in demeanor.

You were almost as shocked as she was.

A golden glow was surrounding you in a protective shield, encasing you within it's warm haze. Your cracked lips parted as you stared at it in confusion.

Was this from you?

"Your Grace! I am so sorry!" Ei exclaimed, clasping her hands together as tears welled up in her large, violet eyes. Her voice was strained, as she was trying to hold together any little piece of her that threatened to crack.

"What...?" was all you could manage to whisper, before she surged forward.

You whimpered and were quick to scramble back - distancing yourself.

Her crestfallen expression on her face almost made you reconsider.

But you could not trust her not to hurt you.

"Please...I didn't realize it was truly you, your Grace," she explained desperately, running a hand through her hair - managing to rough up the perfection of it - strands falling loose from her braid.

Her hand reached out - and you flinched.

She allowed her hand to hover for a moment, shaking, before allowing it to fall, lowering her head in shame.

"I'll call for the best doctors. I promise I'll take care of you now. I won't ever hurt you again."

You were too scared to move as she stood up - lest she cast her fury upon you once more.

Too dazed to react as she called forth servants - too shaken to hear the words exchanged.

You did, however, react when a woman in lovely, yet simple robes reached out for you.

You were quick to back away, your arms raised before you defensively.

"Get away from me!"

"Your Grace..." concern, maybe even anguish, seeped from her words like sap from a tree.

"I won't lay a finger on you. But I'd like to lead you to your room, if you'd like." Her voice was soft, maternal.

Finally, you managed a shaky nod.

She smiled weakly.

Quietly, you followed her. You were left limping, your injuries having left quite a mark on you - yet you refused to accept any offers of assistance. Your gaze was flickering between the woman in front of you and the two looming and armed guards behind you. As you fidgeted your hands, your mind began to wonder.

Would you be locked up to be publicly executed later?

You couldn't help but jump at any sudden movements, ready to run even on your injured legs. Anything to get away.

That didn't seem to be necessary, however.

If this was a prison cell, it was a very luxurious one, for certain.

Your gaze skimmed over the large, plush bed in the centre of one of the walls. The wooden frame was dark and clearly lacquered. Even from the doorway, you could see some intricate carvings upon it. The bedding was a deep violet, with intricate golden thread used for embroidered details. The rest of the room was just as lavish, if not a little void of personality. It was spacious and had a door leading into another room.

"You will find the bathroom behind that door, your Grace," the soft-spoken woman excplained. You simply nodded slowly.

"There are some clothes in the dresser, should you wish to change. And if you need anything - ring the bell beside your bed. We will arrive at a moment's notice and provide anything you wish. "

You slowly entered the room, peeking around - weary of any hidden attackers. Once you were sure there were none, you turned to speak to the woman, but she had already disappeared - leaving the door closed.

With a sigh, you decided you might as well look clean for your upcoming execution.

You scrubbed yourself clean and allowed yourself to slip into the lest extravagant robes in the wardrobe. After some time had passed - a few hours, you were certain - an elderly woman entered your room to treat your injuries.

It was all suspiciously nice.

And you knew for certain that people were never nice without ulterior motives. It rung true in the real world - and you had come to find it did in Teyvat as well.

"Your Grace?" a delicate voice gently awoke you from your slumber. You groaned, tossing around on your plush bed - refusing to open your eyes.

Fine more minutes...

"Your Grace, breakfast is ready."

You finally opened your eyes, hissing as a sudden brightness pouring in from the large windows beside you blinded you momentarily. You rubbed your eyes and glanced around for the source of the voice.

Before your bed stood a well-dressed woman in a silky dress, her hair pinned up in a simple, yet professional updo.

Your brows furrowed.

"I've come to assist you in getting dressed - and then guide you to the dining room, your Grace."

Your eyes widened.

"I absolutely do not need help getting dressed." you insisted, scrambling backwards.

The lady sighed.

"Very well. I've laid out a few options for you on the dresser. Please join me outside your room once you are ready, in that case."

She turned and left, closing the door gently on her way out.

You stared at the clothes set out for you.

Right. The Shogun's palace.

You shuddered at your memories of the previous day.

This was much too sudden of a shift in behavior to be considered normal, right?

Hesitantly, you looked through your options, before finally shrugging on one of the robes set out for you, along with comfortable shoes to match.

It was a little unnerving that they were both your exact size - but then again, so was everything else about your current situation.

The dining room, or rather hall was spacious - a high ceiling with marble flooring, polished to the point of almost becoming mirrors. In the middle of the room, stood a long table, covered with picturesque delicacies.

You gulped when you noticed Ei, stood by the table.

Her gaze snapped up to meet yours when you entered, and she was quick to bow before you.

"Your Grace," she greeted you, her voice shaky.

"I hope you slept well?"

You felt panic crawling at your insides, itching to be released.

"I...please don't call me that- it's not funny..." you mumbled, lowering your gaze.

You missed the way her expression fell - watching your uneasy form with a heavy guilt crushing down upon her.

"But your Grace-" she attempted, before you cut her off.

"Stop! Please!" your gaze met hers, your vision beginning to blur from the tears welling in the corners of your eyes. You forced yourself to not blink - in an attempt to keep the bitter droplets from rolling across your face.

The air was heavy with tension, and a tingling that reminded you of electricity. A feeling of static.

As you watched the Shogun's unreadable expression, you remembered how unpredictable lightning could be.

"I...I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me," you whispered, taking a step backwards.

She rushed forward.

"No, I would never dare to hurt you again, your Grace! I simply wanted to invite you to breakfast - I wasn't sure what you'd like best - so I had everything made, just in case." Her lips carried a desperate smile, her eyes scanning every twitch of your face in anticipation.

She almost seemed earnest in her desperation to please you.

But that earnestness had almost ended your life just as eagerly. There was no way to trust her.

Still, you decided going along with her wishes might be in your best interest.

"...Thank you." You spoke softly, hesitantly nearing the table.

She was quick to pull out a chair for you and slide it back under the table as you took your seat.

"What would you like to drink, your Grace?" she asked, reaching for the cup by your empty plate.

"Water? Tea? Coffee?"

You tensed.

"Just water, please."

She nodded and hurried to pick up the glass jug holding a clear liquid, carefully pouring it into your cup before setting it down on the table before you.

Your plate was covered with an array of samples from different dishes - all cut into neat squares by the Shogun herself. You had yet to touch any of them, however. Even if unlikely, you couldn't shake the paranoia of poison being hidden within your food.

Ei seemed to sense your hesitance.

And she had a feeling she knew the source of it.

"Your Grace..." she spoke gently, catching your attention and reeling it from your plate.

"Would you like me to sample your food for you before you eat?" she questioned, staring at you with earnest, wide eyes.

"If you want to..."

She nodded and gently scooped a bite from your plate, placing it in her mouth and eating it.

Nothing happened.

It eased your fears somewhat, and finally, you began eating, slowly and hesitantly, but eating nonetheless.

Ei's heart soared. You seemed hungry.

Your first few days in the company of Ei were...peaceful, somewhat. Yes, you were weary of everything and everyone, but thankfully, you were provided space. It was nice to feel full for the first time in eons, and to get rest on a soft surface, even if nightmares did plague your dreams.

What kept you on edge, however, was Ei's behavior.

She was. So gentle.

"Your Grace! You look lovely this morning!"

"Your Grace - would you like to join me on a walk?"

"Your Grace, you have the most radiant eyes."

It wasn't malicious but it was strange. How could she go so easily from wanting to snuff out your life, to adoring and praising anything you said or did?

And besides - having everyone around you act as though you were a heavenly creature felt strange.

Because, you knew for a fact that you were not.

And you were just waiting for everyone to realize.

To turn on you once more.

The breeze was warm and gentle in the garden. Rosy Sakura petals floated past you - a faint floral essence spread around by the tame winds. You were sat under a large tree - casting a shadow over you and shielding you from the sun as you allowed your mind to wander.

You barely paid mind to the quiet steps approaching you - only looking up once you were addressed.

"You Grace, what's on your mind?" Ei asked, her voice soft and low as she crouched to sit on the soft grass beside you - not minding a bit that it might stain her flawless pastel robes.

You bit your lip, averting your gaze.

There was that title once more.

One you did not deserve.

"Nothing much," was all you said, your words strained as you focused on a singular blade of grass - swaying in the wind, scuffed from having been trampled, but refusing to go down.

"I understand that you might not feel comfortable sharing your thoughts with me," Ei sighed, looking off into the distance. Despite it's warmth, the breeze caressing her cheeks felt cold.

A heavy silence hung above the two of you - you focusing on your fighter of a blade of grass, as Ei seemed to busy herself with something.

You refused to look at her, lest she realized you were not who she had hoped you were - lest she cast her fury upon you once more, blazing and untamed.

"Your Grace?"

Ei spoke once more after some time had passed. You allowed yourself to glance at her from the corner of you eye.

She looked beautiful, her hair swaying softly in the whisp of wind, her long lashes casting a flattering shadow under her eyes.

Her violet eyes met yours - deep and knowing as they bore into your soul.

Gently, she reached out.

You held your breath.

She placed a flower crown upon your head delicately, her touch feather-light as though you'd break if she applied even the slightest bit of pressure.

She feared, truly, that you would.

Your lips parted, but no words escaped your mouth.

"I hope you don't mind, your Grace," she smiled meekly. "I thought it'd suit you."

You took in a shallow breath.

"Oh...thank you, Ei," your words were unsteady - carefully picked and polished before you allowed them to slip past your lips.

She cast her gaze down in shame.

"I apologize, for making you uncomfortable, your Grace."

You stiffened.

"No, Ei, you don't-"

She shook her head, a bittersweet smile upon her lips.

"I see the way you tense and flinch in my presence. And I know I deserve that. And much more, to be honest. I hurt you, your Grace." Her delicate hand gripped at the edge of her sleeve as she spoke, attempting to soothe the tremors overtaking it.

She had never once wavered in anything after her sister's death, before you came along.

"I...I think you were right to do so," you mumbled, hesitantly reaching for the crown upon your head and removing it. You placed it on your lap, gently caressing the flowers braided into it.

"Your Grace?" her gaze snapped up to meet yours, her eyes frantic.

"I am not this...god, or whatever you think I am."

Ei's brows furrowed.

"I am not trying to claim to be who I am not." Your voice was becoming steadier, as your heart clenched. Perhaps you could get off with a lighter punishment if you spoke your mind.

"Back in my world...I was nothing special. Ever. And that was mostly fine by me," you refused to meet Ei's eyes, fearing the reaction you'd find sparking to life within them.

"And that can't change just like that. I am not destined to be anything more than I was then. I am just...me. Just (Name)."

The silence was nauseating.

"Have I....have I truly wounded you so deep that you would think so lowly of yourself?"

Ei's voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, her words strained and cracking as she managed to utter them, a great deal of pain resurfacing within her chest as she managed to word the thoughts that had been haunting her mind since she almost killed you.

"What? Ei?" you finally looked at her.

Her stony façade was beginning to crumble, her own doubts seeping through them as she fell apart before you.

"I...you are special. And always have been - even if you think you never were."

"But-"

"You guided me through many adventures, did you not? When you resided in your own world?"

You bit your lip.

"In a game, yes. But so did millions of others."

She shook her head, a sad smile overtaking her features once more.

"I only ever felt you."

You were silent for a moment.

"I understand you being weary of me. As I said - I deserve as much. But you are and always will be special to me. Special to all in Teyvat."

She gently rose to her feet.

"I hope one day, you will come to believe me."

With a sad glance, she turned to leave.

Now, you too, could feel the underlying cold of the wind biting at your skin.

Before you could stop yourself - you had rushed to your feet - your arm stretching out in front of you.

You caught the Archon by her sleeve, halting her in her tracks.

She turned to face you, eyes wide with surprise.

"Ei...I..." your cheeks heated up as you struggled to find the words to say.

"Thank you, for your words."

Her expression melted into a fond smile.

"I meant every one of them," she delicately spoke, gently brushing her thumb across your cheek.

"I'm not sure I'm worthy of them."

She sighed softly, delicately tracing the side of your face.

"But you are, Your Grace." She spoke with utter conviction.

Your eyes flickered between her face and her soft hand caressing your face.

You wanted desperately to lean into the touches, to allow yourself to melt at her words. But could you really trust her to be honest with her intentions?

She seemed to notice the doubt on your face, and slowly removed her hand.

"I know you do not fully believe me, Your Grace, but I would give anything, do anything to be worthy of your trust one day. I cannot even begin to describe my feelings for you."

You swallowed.

"Ei...I want to trust you..." you paused, feeling the way your heart thudded against your ribcage - threatening to break free.

"I've been hurt a lot while here."

Ei lowered her gaze, nodding solemnly.

"But I'm willing to give you a second chance."

Her eyes darted back to meet yours, her lips parting slightly in shock.

Without thinking, she leaned forward, and pressed her soft lips against your cheek.

"That's all I could ask for. And more than I could ever deserve, Your Grace."

The genuine joy on her face seeped its way into your heart.

Perhaps, you weren't special, back in your own world.

But the way Ei's loving eyes studied you, as though you were the only sight worth seeing in all the world, eased some of your insecurities and worries.

Perhaps, you were special. To Ei, if nothing else, at the very least.

#genshin #genshin impact #sagau #genshin sagau #genshin x reader #genshin cult au #ei x reader #baal x reader #raiden shogun #raiden shogun x reader #raiden ei x reader #genshin ei #genshin raiden

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whetstonefires · 3 years

Text

heavier than a mountain, lighter than a feather

[my take on @misskirby's not-prompt about obi-wan beating palpatine to death with an office chair]

Obi-Wan had once touched the cold-burning edge of the Dark Side to give himself the extra edge he needed to cut down the Sith who had cut down his Master. He had fought with rage pushing him, he had fought with all the fear that Qui-Gon lay expiring on the reactor floor, that he might yet win and find himself seconds too late to bring the emergency med-treatment necessary to survive a lightsaber to the chest.

(Not that it had mattered; all he’d gotten from his desperate, hasty win was a few seconds of farewell bereft of comfort, and the burden of Anakin hung around his neck, and oh, he wished his padawan was not a burden. There had been no option but to take him and thus taking him must have been right, but no one should take on a student they did not feel ready for, and he had.)

If he had fought that way this time, he would have lost.

The Sith Master would have done what the apprentice could not, and twisted the Dark Side within him as it rose, and snared him in it, so he could not find his way back to the Light, and used that grip to bear him down with Sidious’ greater power, because the Sith said the Force will free me but it was the way of the Dark to place one will over another by pure force, so even what narrow freedom there was on the dark path was offered to one alone. Even in the best case, he would have been overwhelmed too heavily to fight for more than long enough to finish him.

Perhaps he would not have been killed. Perhaps he would have been kept alive to be used as leverage against Anakin. But assuredly he would not have been able to win.

Obi-wan however had what he would have thought of, if he had allowed himself to think about it, a trick for using his attachments and the desire not to lose them as fuel without reaching into the destabilizing, consuming whirlwind of the Dark Side. It was a dangerous, stupid trick, really, at least the way he used it, although Obi-wan thought of that way as fundamental to being a good Jedi, which would have explained a great deal about him if anyone had known.

The trick was this: it was easy to push yourself to where your limits should have been and beyond using your attachment to a person, without falling into the hungry selfishness of the Dark Side, if you simply did not intend to survive.

When he was thirteen, he had tried to persuade Qui-Gon Jinn, who had not yet been his Master, to use the bomb in his recently fitted slave-collar to blow open a door, killing Obi-wan but allowing him complete the mission, which was not Obi-wan’s mission

It was not difficult to return to that place, that space in himself where serenity came easy because soon there would be nothing left to go wrong or to lose—Anakin had made it difficult, for a long time; Anakin he was obliged to raise and train. Anakin who needed him.

All his obligation to the war and the Council and all the men under his command had not pinned him to himself the way his duty to Anakin had, and—knighting him had been helpful. It had been a relief, to finally cast off that weight. There is no death, there is the Force was much easier to believe of oneself than of those one grieved, and some weeks Obi-wan breathed it in and out with every breath, and there was no fear.

He knew several things, as he entered the Senate through an entrance that was technically, perhaps, a window. One that did not open, at that. That the Chancellor had some kind of failsafe embedded in the GAR’s brains. That the Chancellor was a Sith Lord. That the Chancellor had been using his access to Anakin all these years to hurt his Padawan.

That if he took the time to assemble the rest of the Council and try to stage this as a proper arrest, word would have time to reach Palpatine of Obi-wan having been publicly informed, because Maul was the least subtle sentient Obi-wan had ever had the misfortune of meeting more than once, and that if Palpatine knew the jig was up he would use his fail-safe.

So Obi-wan needed to do this alone.

It was possible, of course, that it wouldn’t be difficult. Sidious was a creature of stealth and insinuation. He spent most hours of his life maintaining a posture of harmlessness. When could he have found the time to do regular lightsaber drills, let alone practice live combat?

But Maul probably feared the man for a reason. So Obi-wan was going to do this as quickly as possible, but he wasn’t going to be hasty.

Spring the trap.

He’d closed himself down in the Force before he got near the Senate building, jumping through the hole he’d sliced into the window with only his physical strength and no Jedi edge, and only when he got near the Chancellor’s office did he reopen his senses just a thread, to make sure there was no one in there meeting with Palpatine whom he needed to keep alive. The Force didn’t slam into him with a warning, which would have to be confirmation enough.

Obi-wan yanked the door open, hurled five primed thermal detonators in the direction of the great ship-like slab of an occupied desk, slammed the ornate portal shut again, and threw himself to the ground at the foot of the wall, as far away as he could get, head tucked under his arms. He was fairly sure he’d seen Mas Amedda in there, standing beside the desk as the Chancellor in his thronelike chair raised his head with a gratifyingly startled look on his face.

Pity. The Vice-Chancellor could probably have explained so much of what had been going on behind the scenes, all this time.

The blast left the office door half-shattered, belching smoke, but Obi-wan escaped with just one splinter, not terribly large, in the back of one calf. His robes and boots had absorbed the rest of the shrapnel that had made it that far. He tugged it out as he got up—no time to do anything more, it wasn’t bleeding much. He drew a deep breath of half-clean corridor air and dashed into the opaque ruin that had been the Chancellor’s office, senses fully unfurled now that the time for stealth was over. Though in the interest of not being an irresistible target, he did not ignite his lightsaber just yet.

The Force guided him through the smoke, and he brought his sword to light even as he swung it through the murk.

It stopped, humming, against a bar of red light that hissed into being at the last instant, and that felt equally inevitable.

“You.” Sheev Palpatine’s face looked like a Sith Lord’s now, twisted with hate and lit red from below. And, gratifyingly, somewhat scorched. His hair had sizzled from the heat, and his left arm seemed to have something at least mildly wrong with it. Obi-wan hoped the explosions had affected at least one of his legs, as well, since his own maneuverability was cut by the shard of door to the calf.

“Me indeed, Chancellor,” he said, taking advantage of his two-handed grip to bear down against the block with extra force. Palpatine bore up admirably, but as his snarl tightened it was clear that it was not without cost. “Or should I say, Lord Sidious?”

The smoke was starting to thin, leaking away out of the shattered room. Sidious was still behind his ruined desk with its weakly sparking console, which seemed to have taken much of the impact for him—he was standing, anyway, sadly. Mas Amedda’s corpse, on the far end of the desk from the one Obi-wan had circumnavigated, was one of the things that was still smoking. Most of the brocade and other decorative fabric in the room must have been thoroughly treated with fire-retardant, but he had not been.

“I thought you might have learned my true name,” Palpatine said, far too complacently for someone whose long deception had been uncovered and who was staving off death one-handed. “But what brought you racing here in such haste?”

“Well, you see, they used to call me Sith-killer because of Maul, and since that’s been proven regrettably in error, I thought I had better—” Sidious tried to fling him back against the opposite wall with a sharp jerk of his wounded hand, and Obi-wan had to push back with the whole of his will and stance to slide back only a few feet.

This had freed their lightsabers, though, and Sidious chopped low with a terrible speed. Obi-wan leapt clear, knowing the blood soaking into the pale fabric of his pants was betraying the weakness in his leg—Anakin had had a point, he admitted grudgingly, about black hiding all kinds of stains.

For better and for worse.

He tried to catch Sidious with an overhead slash while he was up, to keep that red lightsaber busy for the most part, and when it was intercepted used the force of that impact to somersault back in a momentary return to his master’s old Ataru style—not too far, though, at all costs he must prevent the Sith Master’s escape.

Sidious wouldn’t need to get far, just to a room with a working holo transmitter, to destroy everything.

He flung himself back in.

Palpatine sidestepped his next attack, parried another, stepped back with the third. His single arm was telling against him, and while he was regrettably fast his movements were stiff enough that he had clearly taken at least one other hurt. Probably somewhere in the right hip. Obi-wan stayed on the offensive—it was how he’d beaten Maul, after all, though he was at pains to avoid overreaching to the point of recreating Anakin’s loss to Dooku.

His attacks did more damage to the sparking desk, bisected the thronelike monstrosity of a chair, which turned out under all the gilt, padding, and chromium to be mostly of durasteel, got close enough to put additional charred rents in Palpatine’s ornate sleeves. Nearly a minute had passed since he threw those detonators, and Sidious was still alive. Too long.

“Really,” said the politician, dropping his stance to one that would allow him to parry more from the shoulder, his first hint of fatigue. His style was not quite Makashi even as he adapted to the one-handed approach that was clearly not his preference, but there were some notes to it that rang so strongly of Dooku they could come from nowhere else. “What do you hope to achieve?”

“You won’t have Anakin,” Obi-wan said, the plot that had been in retrospect laid so horribly bare with just a few sentences from Maul, supported by a few more from some of their most trusted troopers, put together with a hundred hints and oddities and he should have guessed on his own.

Sidious grinned, the amiable wrinkles of his face lying deeper and more correct, somehow, in this attitude of wild, infinite gloating. “Possessiveness, Master Jedi?”

“No,” said Obi-wan, and it was true because he had given Anakin up, given everything up before he came here. He was holding onto nothing, he was an object in free-fall but not falling, because he was at exactly the right place and momentum at the outer edge of a gravity well that would let him remain at a constant height.

Orbits degraded, given time, if not carefully maintained. And if they were disrupted sharply enough it meant a violent, flaming spiral down into explosive doom, or sometimes out into the fathomless dark. This was not a true, secure serenity like a Jedi should strive for. But it would serve. For today, it would serve.

He fell on Sidious again in a flurry of blows, pushing his physical advantage, but although the Chancellor was clearly straining to keep up this defense, his stamina continued to fail to run out or even noticeably decline, as though he had learned to subsist on some constant well of the Force alone.

Probably he had, because it was welling up out of him, filling the room, an endless pit of the Dark that had lain concealed like a trap under pinned canvas and scattered leaves all this time. He was drawing heavily upon the Dark Side now and that wasn’t precisely goodbut it was promising.

He was beginning to develop something that was not quite optimism or confidence but approached both by the time the progress of the humming, crashing process of the duel took them past the far end of the desk, back into sight of what had been Mas Amedda. Palpatine angled his next fractional retreat toward the corps, away from the cracked and blackened windows, avoiding the treacherous footing of a shattered vase that had probably been a valuable antique.

Obi-wan tried to take advantage of the change in angle in the next rapid, whirring clash of lightsabers.

Unlike every other time they had crossed blades this duel, Sidious simply—shut his off in the moment before contact.

Obi-wan had committed a little too much of his weight to the blow to abort it entirely. Sidious ducked away from the remainder with a sinuous grace even as he activated his weapon again, now on the inside of Obi-wan’s guard—trakata, executed with terrible excellence.

The need for the dodge was the trakata maneuver’s great weakness, and gave Obi-wan time to avoid the worst of the stroke, but even still the red lightsaber clipped him across the wrist—not a clean sweep slicing off the hand entire, but a glancing blow, that seared through the skin and flesh and took a significant bite out of the ulna.

Obi-wan didn’t try to repress his strangled scream, and Sidious leaned into it in the Force, pressing at the pain, stoking it and encouraging it to drag him down into the Dark, where he would be the Sith Master’s plaything. He was smirking now, more deeply and honestly than ever, a laugh rising into his mouth, for if Master Kenobi had had a slight edge in their fight with two hands to one, with the Jedi’s primary weapon-hand incapacitated, the Sith would surely dominate.

In that moment, Obi-wan moved to rebalance the odds. His blue lightsaber chopped down—not onto Sidious’ flesh, which it was clear he guarded with the preternatural awareness of a being whose own self was as valuable as all the Galaxy else, but to sheer through the emitter end of the crimson lightsaber.

It spat and burst but, unfortunately, tragically failed to explode.

As Sidious raised his eyes from the ruined weapon looking like he might explode in its place out of pure outrage, Obi-wan brought his sword back up to go for the decapitating blow now that the Sith had no weapon to block with, but in that moment Sidious’ burnt and broken hand jabbed up, and shot a gout of lightning into his face.

His back arced so violently it threw him off his feet, and it was all Obi-wan could do to keep hold of his lightsaber in his good hand and deactivate it as he went down, to avoid doing himself a worse injury than Sidious had yet managed. The lightning followed him down, scouring its way from just beside his left eye down every nerve ending he had in a screaming, jerking chorus of pain.

The deep lightsaber burn on his right wrist somehow hurt more now than it had to receive, but the force of his constant convulsions kept him from screaming again.

Then it stopped. He had no idea how long it had been, and wondered if Palpatine had become too fatigued to keep up the electrocution. There had to be a limit to how long he could maintain that kind of power output. His chest was heaving, trying with animal need to make up for lost oxygen. Smoke and the scent of dead Chagrian weighed down his sensory world, since his eyes declined to open and most of his body would only say pain.

The whisper of expensive Senate slippers crunched toward him over the rubble of the ruined office with a surefootedness that no one would have expected of the elderly Chancellor. At least he was still here; Obi-wan had angered him enough to bother sticking around to kill him rather than running off to activate the troops.

Or maybe he was confident he could spin this whole event to his benefit—Obi-wan had destroyed the security cameras that would have recorded his Sith activities, after all. Maybe he would say Master Kenobi had been tragically killed defending him from the dreadful Sith Lord. Maybe he would ask Anakin to become his constant protector in Obi-wan’s memory. Anakin would do it.

He was struggling to turn his lightsaber back on and raise it, though getting it between him and the next round of lightning seemed unlikely when he was exposed in a supine position, when Palpatine kicked it. Kicked his hand, actually, so hard at least one bone cracked and the lightsaber went flying.

This weapon is your life.

“Should I summon it back and use it to kill you?” Palpatine murmured, with a deadly, vicious good humor that suggested he knew very well Obi-wan had no backup coming, that the only interruption they could expect would be Commander Fox and his men in red, here to protect the Chancellor. “Or should I step on your throat until you breathe your last? Or should I keep you alive and put you on trial, and drag the name of the Jedi in the mud through you, so that when your Order falls it will be your name that the Galaxy uses to call the killing just?”

Horror twisted in Obi-wan’s chest and Palpatine chuckled, a whispering foul sound that still resembled his polite politician’s laughter. “Yes, very good. I’ll make young Skywalker believe you tried to kill me out of pride and greed and because you despised him, until he curses your memory. Everything that happens now will be your doing.”

The rage and the fear that he had left behind when he entered were flaming up now in Obi-wan, the orbit deteriorating, the gravitational pull of abandoning them and letting the Order down and ruining everything and too little, too proud, the same hopeless arrogant padawan and of that terrible, world-tearing no dragging him down to shatter in fire against them, like he had on Naboo all those years ago but so much more utterly and irrevocably and--this wasn’t all him.

He sucked in his breath, shaking through teeth still clenched too convulsively tight to pull apart for a witty retort to all that poison, and melted away inside himself.

Over him, Sidious frowned, feeling the Jedi escape his grip in the Force. “Are you dying already, Master Kenobi?”

He thought Sidious had mentioned summoning his lightsaber through the Force to encourage him to try it. It wouldn’t be impossible. He knew the feel of it in the Force like he did few other things in the Galaxy; he didn’t need sight to reach for it.

But it was too small, and too far away, and his senses were too scorched and blasted by that awful lightning. Long before his weapon could make it to his hand, Sidious could kill him, even with no working lightsaber of his own. He couldn’t win that way, or even (that far lesser goal) live.

Instead, Obi-wan grabbed for the closest large object he knew to look for that wasn’t a corpse: the sliced-loose upper half of that baroque monstrosity of a desk-chair, conveniently bulky and only a few long steps away, just behind the desk he’d fallen from behind.

It came, and in coming swept Palpatine’s legs from under him, knocking him not quite sprawling, and then the curve of it had smacked into Obi-wan’s outstretched left palm, jolting the broken bone which did not matter in the slightest, and he rolled up onto his knees, graceless but fast, the slab of steel and leather still moving with the momentum that had dragged it to him, and clobbered the sitting-up Sith Lord across the face with it.

One of Obi-wan’s many faults was his tendency to take a vicious glee in striking low his enemies, but he did not think he had ever taken quite the joy from any beautifully executed maneuver that he did from watching Palpatine knocked to the floor by a slab of office chair. Obi-wan lunged after him, not bothering with niceties like getting to his feet, and brought the chair-slab down on his face again, this time with the strength of both arms—his right hand was mostly numb but for hurting, only the thumb and forefinger would move at all, and it was very weak, but none of that interfered with placing his whole forearm against the upholstery and slamming the searing-hot, bare metal inner side down.

There was a crunch, probably nose, and then instead of diminishing the awful seething presence of the Dark Side rose like a hurricane, and Obi-wan felt his throat close as from a powerful phantom hand, cutting off all breathing.

This caused him not an instant’s hesitation, because he had come here fully intending to die.

He raised the sheered-off slice of chair, adjusted the angle so the sharp edge where he’d cut the durasteel was pointing down, and aimed for the throat.

The ensuing explosion threw him after his lightsaber, and he knew nothing after hitting the wall.

#star wars #my writing #obi wan kenobi #fanfic #darth sidious #blows up on dying #it's canon #i feel like this wasn't #quite the intended timeline #but anyway here we are #chairdeath au #i gotta logic things #hoc est meum #i love a fight scene #i wanted to make this one more acrobatic than it is #but logistics intervened

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todrokishoto · 3 years

Text

bnha boys x tickles

character(s): bakugou, deku, denki, kirishima, todoroki

warning(s): tickles, blood (nosebleed), swearing?

a/n: random idea i had. enjoy this hc/scenario thing while i work on some longer fics. p.s. i’ve never really written headcannons before so idk if i did it right lmao

B A K U G O U

mans isn’t ticklish

trained himself to tolerate it bc being ticklish is for the weak

won’t tell you that tho bc it’s a valid excuse sometimes ok??

like,,, let’s say you’re tracing mindless patterns on his abdomen right

the two of you are just lying on his bed in his dorm room

and while it might have been innocent enough on your part

he can’t help but be... flustered as your hand moves awfully close to the waistband of his pants

feeling his cheeks heat up, straight up refusing to let you see how much your touch affects him, he swats your hand away with a grunt

“that tickles, dumbass,” he huffs, his voice slightly strained. you pretend not to notice.

your eyebrows lift upward in surprise at his statement. not once had he ever mentioned he was ticklish. propping yourself up on your elbow, you let your eyes trail over his features, studying him.

his eyes are closed but only after mere seconds of feeling your gaze, they open back up. his crimson orbs stare into yours, neither one of you breaking the prolonged silence. you, frankly, didn’t want to. bakugou, on the other hand, refused to - fully aware his voice would betray him again.

he couldn’t believe he had just lied about being ticklish. but, letting you believe your soft touches had tickled him rather than admitting they made him feel things he know he shouldn’t seemed like the most logical option. yes. there was no way he’d reveal his less than innocent thoughts.

“what?” he grumbles, quirking a brow questioningly. “take a picture. it’ll last longer.”

you fish your phone out of your pocket, holding it up above him. “okay—”

your words turn into a squeal as he smacks the phone out of your hand and grabs your arm, pinning it above your head. he hovers above you, eyes full of mischievousness, his teeth exposed by the grin dancing on his lips. you stare back up at him, eyes wide, body tense as you attempt to gauge his next movements.

“how ‘bout a taste of your own medicine, huh? since you seem to find it so funny.”

and before you can protest, his fingertips dig into your sides, eliciting careless giggles from you as he tries his best to find your most ticklish spots.

K A M I N A R I

would tickle you on the daily just to hear your laugh

pls he’s a total sucker for your squealing giggles. they’re his favorite

this boy will find any excuse to tickle you; pinching your sides, blowing raspberries on your stomach while lying in your lap - you name it

one of his favorite ways is to use just a teeny tiny bit of his electricity, making the ticklish that much more unbearable

we all know his love language is physical touch, so he just can’t help himself really

but don’t even think about tickling him. boy will practically screm bloody murder and literally run away from you like a child running away from their parent when it’s time for bed

you’re bored. so bored, in fact, that you’re even thinking about purposefully provoking your boyfriend’s explosive friend just for some entertainment. you quickly scrap the idea, not feeling like being the target of his harsh words today.

your boredom quickly dissipates, however, as the yellow locks of your boyfriend come into view. he’s chatting animatedly with kirishima and sero, his back facing you. you put a finger to your lips as a pair of red eyes look at you curiously. luckily, the redhead understands and says nothing as you sneak up to the table they’re currently seated at.

“hey, babe!” you greet loudly, your voice dripping with fake innocence.

before he can turn around, your hands are at his sides, pinching and poking with all their might. an odd sound - something between a gasp and a grunt - escapes your boyfriend at the feeling and he flails his arms, desperately trying to escape your hold.

you underestimated just how ticklish your electric partner is, it seems. because before you can dodge it and sero can warn you, denki pushes his chair backward, knocking you over in the process. your boyfriend whips around immediately at the sound of your body colliding with the floor.

“oh my god, baby, i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean—” his apology trails off at the sound of your loud laughter.

you’re clutching your stomach with one hand, attempting (but to no avail) to silence your laughter with the other. denki rubs the back of his neck, eyes full of confusion, while he tries to regain his breath from your surprise attack. once again, he catches you off-guard as he crouches down next to you, his fingers finding your tickle spot with ease.

your laughter gets louder and he smirks. “not so funny now, is it?”

K I R I S H I M A

mans has a hardening quirk

aka he can just harden his skin, so tickling him is basically impossible

once in awhile, when he knows you just want revenge for the times you’ve been tickled by him, he won’t activate his power

but still, he barely chuckles, which makes you frustrated™

he doesn’t really tickle you on purpose that often tho bc that’s not manly

will tickle you accidentally while rubbing your arms or breathing on your neck while cuddling

you’ll squirm in his hold and he will just apologize with a laugh and hold you tighter

you sigh, shuffling ever-so-slightly, stuck within your boyfriend’s tight grasp. the two of you had been cuddling on one of the sofas in the common room, but he had succumbed to his exhaustion and had fallen asleep next to you.

normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. you had no issue being his pillow once in awhile and his cute, little snores made it impossible for you to wake him. today, however, he had fallen asleep in the crook of your neck and his soft breaths were tickling you. with every exhale, your body tensed as you tried your best to remain still.

“kiri,” you whisper, his nickname slipping past your lips with gentleness. “babe, wake up.”

he stirs at the sound of your voice, his breathing halting momentarily. you wait in suspense but he only buries his face further into your neck, a long breath fanning against your exposed skin. you squirm instinctively. your movements must have alerted something in him because he begins shuffling shortly after.

you can’t see his face but you can tell by his breathing that he’s slowly but surely waking up. you practically hold your breath, praying that he will move before you have to voice your discomfort. unfortunately, luck isn’t on your side it seems.

“kiri, i love you, but please move,” you plead, pushing against his chest softly. his red eyes are filled with confusion as he props himself up to look at you. “you’ve been tickling my neck for the past fifteen minutes. i was going insane.”

he pouts then. “aw, babe, you should’ve told me. you could’ve woken me up, y’know?”

“yeah, i know,” you sigh, rubbing your neck where his breathing had been just a few seconds prior. “i just didn’t want to wake you, is all. you’re so cute when you sleep.”

“you’re cuter,” he quips enthusiastically, poking your nose with his index finger. “okay, your turn to cuddle me instead. i’m not ticklish so lay wherever you want.”

M I D O R I Y A

i feel like this broccoli bean would be ticklish everywhere?

either that or he’s not ticklish at all

maybe his body’s been beaten so many times that his nerve-endings are either overly sensitive or they barely feel anything

idk™ BUT

sweet, freckled little izuku would also not tickle you without consent

we stan a respective king

he would be so careful to apply a little bit of a firmer pressure to not tickle you

sweetie had been to flustered to ask if you were ticklish when you first started dating and it was too late to ask now

you’re sitting next to him on the gras outside of the doors, relishing the feeling of the nice evening air against your skin. the two of you are chatting mindlessly. well, izuku’s doing most of the talking and you’re mainly listening, but you don’t mind at all.

his arm is grasped between your two hands as you gently trace the scattered freckles and scars adorning his skin. he had been so flustered when you had grabbed it, unable to will the redness away from his cheeks. you had only giggled in response.

izuku didn’t know why you seemed to be so fascinated by his scars. you had always asked questions about them, wondering if he remembered where he got them. always made sure to call him handsome on days where he was particularly bothered by the markings on his body.

he loved it. he loved you.

but as your continue to trace them, your touch featherlight, he can’t help the shiver that runs down his spine. he squirms, his hand clenching together and forming a fist. you take notice and halt your actions immediately. he turns to look at you, meeting your wide eyes.

“did i do something wrong?” you ask quietly, feeling the guilt claw its way to your chest.

“no!” he practically shouts, his voice a few octaves higher than normal. he clears his throat. “n-no, you didn’t. it’s just that... heh. i’m, uh, kind of sensitive in certain spots, i guess? and while i really don’t mind you touching my scars, you were so gentle and i-i just... it tickled.”

his chin tilts toward the floor, his bashful gaze flickering away from yours. you notice the pink dusting across his freckled cheeks but decide not to point it out, desperate to make your boyfriend feel at ease again.

“zuku, say that next time! i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to tickle you. i didn’t even know you were ticklish, to be honest.”

he rubs his neck, peering over at you once again. he grins sheepishly. “i-i never told you, i guess. usually, i’m able to resist the urge to squirm, um, like that.”

“you’re so cute!” you gush, grabbing ahold of his hand once again. “i’m ticklish too, y’know. but i’ll let you find my tickle spots on your own.”

and, for the umpteenth time that night, your boyfriend blushes as he thinks about exploring your body to find your very own tickle spots.

T O D O R O K I

we all know he had a shitty childhood fck u endeavor

he never had tickle fights with his parents or siblings when he was little

so poor bby probably doesn’t even know he’s ticklish until you accidentally find his weak spot one day

let’s say you’re both cuddling in your bed right?? and things are getting a little heated

so,,, you detach your lips from his, placing a kiss on his cheek, then his jaw, then his neck

and let me tell you - this poor boy doesn’t know what to do

he tenses up immediately, slamming his chin down to protect his exposed neck, his jaw banging against your nose in the process

“y/n!” he calls out immediately, chest heaving, his body still tense as if on high alert. he reaches out to you when he spots you holding your nose, your brows furrowed in discomfort. “i’m so sorry. i don’t— are you alright?”

you nod, releasing a hum to confirm your response. your nose is throbbing, but when you open your eyes and meet shoto’s wide bicolored ones, your pain subsides quickly. poor boy looks so helpless - torn between reaching out for you and distancing himself.

“hey, sho, it’s okay. i’m alright,” you remove your hand clutching your nose to shoot him a smile but you stop midway, noticing the crimson liquid on your palm.

“you’re bleeding,” your boyfriend observes quietly, the guilt obvious in his voice. “i hurt you. i’m so sorry. i... what you did made me feel weird and my body just reacted. i, uh, i’m sorry.”

he scrambles out of your bed, reaching for the box of tissues he knows you have stashed in your desk. he hands you a handful of them, awkwardly lingering by the foot of the bed as you wrap the paper over your nose, clamping your fingers shut around it.

you shake your head with a gentle laugh. “sho, it’s okay. i didn’t know you were ticklish there. i can’t really control what my body does when i’m tickled either, so i don’t blame you.”

“ticklish?” he repeats aloud, almost as if testing out the word.

you nod, the innocence of your boyfriend once again surprising you. you feel your heart ache slightly at the thought of him not knowing what the action is. had nobody ever touched him enough for him to find his tickle spots?

“yeah. most people are ticklish somewhere on their body. usually either on their waist, their armpits, feet or neck - like you. it’s normal. typically, when people are touched where they’re ticklish, they’ll squirm and laugh.”

he nods and you remain quiet as he processes the information. then, much to your bewilderment, he leans forward and grabs ahold of your side with his fingertips. he pinches gently and you jerk, narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend smiling harmlessly.

“so, is that your tickle spot, then?”

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rosesastrology · 4 years

Text

Chiron in the signs

Chiron is the wounded healer. A half God, half mortal. A centaur who was abandoned by his parents. He's only good at healing. He gets shot by an arrow and can't heal his own wounds, ironically. He begs to switch places with Prometheus whose liver is being gnawed upon by vultures for eternity. Zeus pities him and sends him to heaven.

Chiron in Aries

Wounds: I can't be myself, I don't have the right to exist, fear of failure, needing to be number one, often neglected in childhood, identity issues

Healing gifts: empowering others, cheering on the underdog, independence, self-care, channeling creativity, shameless individuality

Chiron in Taurus

Wounds: I am unworthy, I don't have enough, I don't deserve this, distrusts change, sees value in everything but themselves, getting stuck in bad habits, materialism, fear of losing everything and everyone, following the flock

Healing gifts: seeing beauty in all places, having a knack for taking care of finances, are able to stay stable in the hardest times, rigid and strong

Chiron in Gemini

Wounds: feeling misunderstood, feeling like they're dumb or incapable, their passions are often discouraged especially in the educational field, paranoid about what others think about them, speech impediments

Healing gifts: You are the voice for the weak, you stand up for the underdog, you have the power to change situations with your words, can give impactful speeches, good at writing and perhaps at poetry or singing

Chiron in Cancer

Wounds: feeling like you can't be vulnerable, feeling as though you can't trust people with your emotions, feeling like you don't belong anywhere (even in your own body), comfort eating, neglect in homelife or childhood, feeling like your emotions are too much or like they're crazy

Healing gifts: You can help others heal emotionally through various acts, you're good at taking care of others, you make people feel like they belong somewhere, you can help others open up, nourishing others, empowering women

Chiron in Leo

Wounds: need to be validated or approved, fear being rejected, chasing the high, crash and burn, the Icarus effect, feeling as though you're not good enough, high standards

Healing gifts: channeling creativity, empowering others through art, sending positive messages through your passions, playfulness and self-expression

Chiron in Virgo

Wounds: perfectionism, body dysmorphia/distorted self-image, overly critical of themselves and others (on all levels), possible health issues, people-pleasing, feeling the need to serve at the expense of one's own endeavors

Healing gifts: You can heal others through traditional means like medication or herbs and may be a great doctor, you are good at organizing and creating routines for others to pick up their lives, you are an amazing problem solver, you are good at creating powerful media or a good social status, good with animals, may be a veterinarian

Chiron in Libra

Wounds: Romanticizing trauma or other issues, idolizing your partners, indecision, fear to commit in a relationship, trouble ending relationships, shoving problems under the rug to fake "peace"

Healing gifts: diplomacy, harmony, you may be great at singing, you tend to create harmonious situations or conversations, you bring people together, you're good at negotiating, you make a great wingman, peace with sexual diversity/sexuality and equality

Chiron in Scorpio

Wounds: You struggle with sexual expression (which can go from addiction to an extreme fear of it), nihilism, the wound of death/grief in your life, being possessive or jealous, insecurity, being interested in the obscure at the expense of your sanity, abuse

Healing gifts: sexual empowerment, seeing the good in a seemingly bad situation, alchemy, spiritual healing (usually through material means like tarot or astrology), helping people deal with life, death and birth, being able to bring about change

Chiron in Sagittarius

Wounds: steadfast beliefs, stubborn, chasing the highs, recklessness, feeling like you don't belong anywhere, restlessness, trying to find meaning in everything to the expense of your own mental health, feeling like there is no meaning in anything, no clear limits or boundaries

Healing gifts: finding personal freedom within travel, coming to understand the differences and comparisons between people, accepting diversity, bringing inclusiveness and equality about, good at bringing humor about, laughter is the best medicine, luck, manifestation powers

Capricorn in Chiron

Wounds: You feel like you were beaten by society, you may hold a resentment towards authority or society itself, you feel like a freak, you're always left out, you may use your career as an escape, workaholic, obsessive ambition, struggle with gaining status or approval, feeling like they'll never succeed, discouragement, unrecognized, unnoticed, unheard, fear of losing control of their life or emotions, bad coping mechanisms

Healing gifts: You're an amazing leader, learning to accept and respect yourself will help you heal, you are your own authority, you're determined and passionate, you follow through, reliable, you're a born survivor, you have a natural sense of authority that others will respect, giving others guidance, being a good mentor, healing/controlling other people's energy

Chiron in Aquarius

Wounds: Feeling like an outsider, you feel like a loner, feeling alone in a crowd of people, feeling like the black sheep of the family, feeling like there's something wrong with you, going out of your way to be different, avoidance of personal relationships (yet still friendly), feeling like you have to belong in a community

Healing gifts: Seeing the whole picture, acceptance of diversity, objectivity, bringing about change, fighting for humanitarian causes or for a bigger purpose, authenticity and originality are your strong suits, owning your individuality

Chiron in Pisces

Wounds: having no hope or faith, feeling betrayed or victimised, suicide idealism, building up a shell of cynicism, feeling like the universe is unfair, fear of being hurt, trust issues, fear of opening up, always rescuing others at the expense of themselves, nostalgia

Healing gifts: spirituality, spiritual healing, confronting unfairness, romantic, imaginative, helping others, you're a natural healer with a deep compassion for others, good with animals

#chiron #astrology #Aries #cancer #scorpio #pisces #taurus #gemini #leo #virgo #libra #Capricorn #aquarius #Pisces #sagittarius #astro #astro notes #all the signs #chiron in the signs

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

Text

The 101 Deaths of Danny Phantom

AO3 link

One of the first things people learned about dealing with ghosts, other than not to try and date them, is to never asks about their death or obsessions. That doesn’t mean the citizens of Amity Park aren’t curious though, especially about their resident ghostly hero and the confusing and concerning comments he sometimes makes.

“Are you okay?” Phantom asked Maisie as she shook and tried to hold back tears after that car had almost slammed into her. She sometimes joked about getting hit crossing the street of her college campus to pay her obnoxious loans but it was another thing entirely to almost experience it herself. Maisie was nearly twenty, she shouldn’t be comforted by someone younger than her little step sister but here she was, shaking like a lead and leaning into Phantom’s comforting, chilly touch.

“Sorry,” she stuttered, “thank you, I’m sorry I’m just-”

“Hey, it’s okay to be upset that was very scary. The thought of dying is very scary.” Through her adrenaline and her tears, she took in the ghost’s unnatural glow, his faded, barely visible appearance and the fact that he was floating a foot off the ground. Maisie knows this ghost, this boy, knows more than she ever could about death.

“And getting run over by a car sure is a bad way to go,” the ghost kid chuckled awkwardly, taking his cold hand off her shoulder to scratch at the back of his neck. “You should see how my dad drives or my mom or my sister if she’s running late enough,” Phantom paused in thought. “No one in my family should have a license now that I think about it. Anyway,” he dismissed with a wave.

“My sister and I were getting ready to head out to school and my dad was backing out of driveway too fast and didn’t see us and uh, luckily I got my sister out of the way in time haha,” Phantom trailed off awkwardly. Was it because of the uncomfortable conversation or because he noticed her dawning horror.

Her best friend ran the community college’s Phan club so Maisie was a member by default. Phantom’s death was sometimes talked about late at night, everything from wrongful murder to a freak accident. She never in her worst nightmares imagined being him being runover in front of his own house by parental ignorance. It was so normal, a quick mistake and a life lost.

“Oh my god,” he said with an adorable little green blush. “Why am I babbling about that? You almost got hit by a car, I’m probably retraumatizing you or something. I should probably go get the jerk who almost hit you,” he said before disappearing into thin air.

“Tia is not going to believe this,” she whispered to no one. All she knew is that for the rest of her damned life she was going to look both ways when crossing the street. She’d seen first hand what a single moment of reckless driving could cause.

XxX

Matthew, not Matt or Matty or Hughie, Matthew shivered from the cold. He was only in his boxers with little Pacman on them. It had been fine when he’d gone to bed considering it was mid-August but Phantom and this stupid flaming mecha ghost had tussled outside the summer camp he was working at. He could see some of the kids snickering at his state of undress though he was just extremely glad they were alive enough to disrespect him like this.

“Oh man, I’m sorry,” the ghost kid said with big, sad eyes that looked so human despite the fact that they were literally glowing. He looked around at all the snow and ice left over from his fight. “Jeez you guys must be freezing, I wish I could warm you all up but all I can do is make things colder.”

“S’okay,” Matthew said through his chattering teeth. “Teaching the kids how to start a fire was supposed to be next week but we can get a jump on it.” That got a smile out of the ghost and within a half hour, the other counselors were distributing blankets and hot beverages to the kids clustered around multiple fires. They didn’t seem particularly upset by the potentially fatal attack, Matthew will breakdown about that at a later time when he was alone. For now, he just smiled as the children chattered happily with the ghost while he cleaned up as much of the damage as possible.

“So you spend all day fighting ghosts?” Zoe asked with stars in her eyes.

“A lot of the nights too,” Phantom nodded, “I do other stuff but yeah it seems ghost fighting takes up most of my time.”

“Where’d you learn those cool powers?” Zuri asked, miming a punch.

“Comes with being a ghost,” Phantom shrugged, “my ice powers came in later though so I still struggle a bit with them but I’m getting better every day.”

“Why ice though?” Morris said with his cocked curiously to the side. “I see some ghosts use fire or shadows, why do you have ice?”

“Ah that’s a little personal,” Phantom chuckled but his posture was easy despite the invasive question. “Specialty powers like my ice require special circumstances and a certain uh connection to the ghost. Someone like me couldn’t use fire or electricity or plants, ice is in my soul, it’s who I am.”

Matthew paused in drinking his lukewarm coffee as a horrible thought came to mind. He’s been an outdoorsman all his life, practically from the time he could walk. He’d been a deep woods camping guide for a decade before switching to working at summer camps. But the years working in the relative comfort of a stable camp didn’t erase his knowledge of how unforgiving and deadly the woods in the winter could be. A grown man, much less a young teen, would freeze to death in 20 minutes if it was cold enough.

It made sense for ghosts to develop powers related to their deaths. Had Phantom been one of the dozens of unfortunate kids he read about every year who ran away in the middle of winter only to found later as a frozen corpse. He eyed the boy’s snow white hair and frigid aura he exuded with mournful trepidation. God, what a horrible way to die.

“I’d get chilly with ice powers,” Tabby said with a shudder, she held out her cup of cocoa. “You want some of my cocoa to warm you up?”

“No thanks,” Phantom said with a soft smile that was warm despite everything. “The cold hasn’t bothered me for a while.”

XxX

Ghost attacks may be the norm but, if there was one good thing that came out of whole mess it was the fact that violent human crimes went down drastically. So when the rare murder did happen, the shock and fear rippled through the whole town.

Stanford Newton had only been sheriff of Amity Park for eight months after the last guy had gone gray overnight and moved to Florida the next day. It was a daunting position but one he bore proudly. This wouldn’t be his first murder investigation having initially cut his teeth as a beat cop in Chicago but it would be the first in Amity. And it certainly was the first in which the dead served in an active capacity.

“Amanda Chastain, 27. Officially she was a waitress down at Spengler’s Diner but she’s been picked up for prostitution twice in the last year,” Stan said calmly, ignoring the cold, angry presence over his shoulder. “History of polysubstance abuse as well, not that either of those things mean she deserved this.” Used, beaten to death and then dumped in the trash like yesterday’s paper.

He wondered if she’d come back a ghost or if she’d finally get some peace this world hadn’t offered her. “We don’t have many leads right now, I’m afraid. Acting illegally as they are, there’s not a lot of resources these poor girls have to turn to.”

“I’ll find them,” The Phantom said with blazing conviction, his voice thick and sharp as ice. “I’ll find and bring them to justice and make sure no one else is hurt again.”

“I believe you,” Stan nodded, shutting his notebook as he finally turned to face the teenage superhero haunting his town. He can’t say he liked what he saw. The Phantom looked even less human than usual, his aura flaring and flickering like the foggy mist before a heavy snowstorm. His unnatural green eyes glowered, painting his too young face in a terrifying light.

The kid looked furious, clearly taking this death to heart. He’d read the Fenton’s memos about obsessions and such but this seemed beyond that. “But don’t hurt anyone to do it, or yourself while you’re at it.”

“I won’t, I’ll make sure they’ll face human justice and don’t worry,” Phantom gave a snarling smile. “No mortal can hurt me, not like this,” he growled causing the hairs on Stan’s arms and neck to stand on end. He flew off after that, presumably to track down Amanda’s killer.

“Not like this,” Stan mumbled to him, pulling out his handkerchief and wiping his brow where a cold sweat had broken out. “Jesus Christ that poor kid.” Stan had seen plenty of murdered and mutilated bodies in his lifetime, some of them even kids. He just never got to talk to them after they’d had their life forcibly snatched away. It would explain the ghost’s near fanatical determination to save others, why he took a stranger’s murder so personally.

“I hope your own murderer is behind bars,” Stan said as he tucked his handkerchief back into his coat pocket. “Or even six feet under, for killing a good kid like you.” Stan made his way back to his squad car so he could head back to the station and move forward with the official investigation. But he’d eat his hat if there wasn’t a stammering lowlife there by tomorrow ready to turn themselves in.

Maybe after all this was settled down, he’d delve into some of the cold cases stacked in the cellar. Maybe in there he’ll find a picture of a smiling, carefree teen who’d disappeared and returned with the power now to ensure no one else suffered as he had.

XxX

“Yes, I know about the Phantom,” Luis Oliveira will say to anyone who so much as brings up the ghost kid. Locals know better by now but the tourists eat it up every time. He twists his finely combed mustache and gestures to the floor where his audience is standing. “He died right there oh ten or eleven years ago.”

Luis has worked his way all across the the United States since he emigrated from Brazil in the 70s. He finally settled in Amity Park about twelve years ago. He’d never intended to stay in the small Midwest town but the fatal shooting of a young customer kept his little corner market open.

“He was a nice kid, always said hi to me and paid in exact change. Was big fan of the snacks I made, would stop by after school and take half my inventory. He had big brown eyes and a crooked nose,” Luis would smile at the memory before closing his eyes and frowning sadly. “One day, he came late. His teacher made him stay after to go over a failed test, I remember he complained. He was pulling out his money when robber burst in, demanding my money. I fumbled for the register key, dropped it. I bent down to grab it and I hear shots going off. Two over my head, another right into the boy’s throat.”

Luis will hear the sound of that sweet boy’s guttural choking sounds as he drowned in his own blood until the day he himself died. The robber left after the shot, Luis called the police and held the young man’s hand as he died. The would be thief were never found and Luis never did learn anything about the boy who’d died on his floor for getting hungry after school.

“As soon as I saw Phantom on the TV,” Luis would say, perking up after his moment of somber grief, “I knew it was that boy come back. Those kind eyes, I’d recognize them anywhere. He’s never come here but one day he will and I will be able to pass on my regret on not being able to save his life that day.”

XxX

“I think he killed himself,” Mikey whispered to Lester during lunch period, angling his voice low. “The jocks may love Phantom for his powers but I just know he was one of us, an unwanted nerd. I’ve seen him chatting up a ghost I’m pretty sure is Poindexter, Casper’s suicide kid. They’re probably bonding over their similar deaths and the circumstances that led to it.”

“That’s pretty dark,” Lester whispered back. “I also get unpopular vibes from him but I don’t think he’s the time do uh do that to himself; he’s too stubborn and protective. But I bet he was the victim of a prank gone wrong. Dash locked Fenton in the Janitor’s closet last Wednesday, he got out okay somehow but maybe something like that happened to Phantom. He always looks kind of annoyed at the A-listers, maybe they remind him of old bullies.”

“Nuh-uh,” Clara said, pushing up her glasses with her middle finger. “The ghost kid totally got electrocuted or something. He was fighting that weather ghost and he sent lightning bolts his way and Phantom flinched. He fought the Ghost King and yet a little electricity scares him? It might not’ve even been a lightning strike but something manmade like a machine backfiring or something.”

“Get real,” Mikey scoffed, sipping his milk with an eyeroll. “I’m sure we’d have heard about some poor kid getting zapped to death; this town isn’t that big.”

“We’d have heard about a suicide too,” Lester noted with a wry grin.

“Shut up Mr. I base my theories around Fenton who’s a known weirdo”.

XxX

“I’m telling you, the ghost kid died of some debilitating illness,” Abbie McMillian, retired school teacher and three year reigning champ at the Tristate area’s Daylily Competition. She sipped her tea and spoke with as much confidence as she had back in the day wrangling Amity’s impressionable youths. “The superhero thing is clear wish childhood fulfillment, a chance to live and be free like he never got to in life. You see how happy and carefree that young man looks while flying? Clearly he spent his formative years sick and weak.”

“No way,” Greta von Martin frowned as she aggressively stirred her own tea to show her displeasure. “I worked in a hospital for close to 30 years and I know what chronically sick kids look like and Phantom doesn’t fit the bill. I will agree he’s carefree when he’s not battling spooks but he acts like a stupid teen. I’m telling you, the boy got into his parent’s liquor cabinet or took a few too many of whatever pill was going around his school. Tragic but something that happens every day.”

“Greta, dearie,” Abbie said with a pinched frown. “We’ve been friends since grade school and I love you like a sister but you are wrong and until you admit it, I won’t share anymore of my recipes.”

“You’re just being stubborn because you can’t see what’s right in front of you even after working with kids half of your life, Abbie, love,” Greta sniffed. “And you can kiss my grandson’s help weeding you garden goodbye until you relent.”

XxX

Perhaps one of the most human traits is curiosity, especially about what comes after death. Now the good people of Amity Park know a great deal about the dead so the lives before is what attracts their attention and none so more than the ghost boy. Maybe it’s because he’s their hero or maybe it’s because he’s so young. Or perhaps it’s because Phantom is such a mess of contradictions that it’s very hard to guess how the unfortunate boy met his end. But everyone has their own theories, from the mundane to the fantastic, some with evidence backing them up and others pure poppycock.

But for all their curiosity, as much as it burns them to know, they’ll never ask. They don’t want to risk the powerful ghost’s wrath but, moreover, it seemed in poor taste. The boy risked his afterlife to keep them safe, they couldn’t ask what traumatic and miserable circumstances had led to this point.

And besides, it was so much more fun to look up at ghostly figure as he sped through the skies and wonder.

#danny phantom #my writing #i made a headcanon post and immeaditly said 'i have to write this'#and then I did #tw: suicide mention #there is a non described background death of an OC #opinions are like assholes #everyone has one #and *everyone* has an opinion on how phantom died #some are reasonably close and some are waaaay far off #but they wonder and gossip and argue when the kid cant hear #its human nature

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echo-of-sounds · 3 years

Text

comfort

Small drabbles of you comforting Toshi, Fatgum, and Gang Orca.

Sorry about the late upload. I wanted to get something out today, so I took a little extra time to finish this. Also, I hope you guys have a Happy New Year! Be safe if you’re doing anything tonight!

Yagi Toshinori

“Can we not watch this right now?”

“Uh, sure. Do you suddenly not enjoy The Evening Hero Gossip?” you asked. Toshi usually caught up on the city’s news and gossip as he wound down from his day. Right now, he was grimacing, subtly rubbing his side under the blanket. The small action caused regret over your taunting tone.

“No, I don’t.”

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to tease you.”

“No, no, you didn’t do anything, sweetheart,” he falsely assured. His hand moved from his side to your thigh, giving it a loving pat. The weight still haunted his shoulders. It was identical to the weight he carried during his self-blaming, heavyhearted periods. “I’d rather watch a movie or something less bleak with dinner.”

You put the remote down, set aside your stir-fry, and faced him. “Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Toshi, I can tell something’s wrong. Did something happen today?” You nodded to his covered injury.

The fingers on your thigh clenched. He looked around the room, seemingly to find a way to move on. You cradled his hand and brought it to your lips. The kiss softened his stifling. Another one slumped his shoulders. A silent minute later, he sighed, “They said… One woman made a comment. I know she didn’t mean anything by it, and I know she wouldn’t intentionally insult me, but it was still discouraging.”

“What did she say?”

“They were talking about which Heroes are the most handsome, who’d be the best boyfriend, things like that.” He kneaded his eyes. You kissed his knuckles, knowing where this was heading. “One woman said I wasn’t much anymore since I lost my powers. She said I wasn’t attractive.”

“What?”

“Please, don’t get angry. She didn’t mean it. I’m sure… It was just one of those comets that blurt out before you realize how it could come across.”

“Did she at least apologize on Tv or social media or something?” The answer came as his hand retracting from yours and him sinking into the couch. You gently crawled onto his lap, letting him tuck into your neck. While you spoke, you brushed his hair, “Then it doesn’t matter her intentions. She needs to apologize. And I am angry at her.”

A faint laugh tickled your skin. Arms snaked around you, clasping behind to cling close. “You’re handsome, Toshi. You really are. I’m not just saying that cause we’re dating-” You kissed his forehead. “-Your jawline and eyelashes are worth killing for.”

His head lifted. “I thought you said my eyes were the best.”

“I did. They’re beautiful. But your jawline is just amazing,” you mumbled against the divine bone, sucking and nipping him. “Besides, you’re my boyfriend. That woman doesn’t get to see how sweet you are to me.”

His nose nudged yours. “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I just love you. You’re caring and loving and attentive and thoughtful and empathetic-”

Toshi’s lips on yours silenced your complementing, breathing words of love back.

Toyomitsu Taishiro

“Hey!” you greeted Tai’s back.

He didn’t move when he responded with a lame ‘hey.’ No cheer or thrill heightened in his voice. It was incredibly odd, but gravely concerning too. Even after the hardest fights and longest days, he always acknowledged you with a love-filled smile.

You sat your bag on the counter. “Tai, are you okay?”

“I’m great.”

You plopped down beside him, stroking his arm, asking in a mellow tone to avoid being too pushy, “Are you sure?”

A brief film of water coated his eyes. Immediately, he blunk it away and nodded.

“Oh, baby.” Your fingers swept through his hair, running your nails along his scalp. He leaned into it. “Was it just a bad day?”

He nodded again.

You hopped up, offering your hands. “Come on.”

He grabbed them and stood, allowing you to lead him into the bedroom. You unzipped his sweatshirt. It flopped. The crinkly t-shirt was next, but you couldn’t reach high enough. With a small smile, he lifted it the rest of the way, revealing his belly and stretch marks. Hands shielded them as he laid on the bed. It gave you an inkling about his down mood.

You crawled up and smooched his cheek. He tried to return the kiss, but your lips drifted down his chin, landing on his sternum. You moved downward, seized his screening hands, and pleased them on his chest. Dark purple stria lined up his tummy from his pants, curving past his belly button.

“You’re so handsome, Tai.” You slowly kissed them. His stomach sucked in with a sharp inhale. He didn’t say anything while you praised the marks with your mouth. You took your time on each one. Softened, stretched skin lightly fluttered. Breaths gradually evened out, becoming accustomed to you.

In the silent room, you made your way up to his blushing smile, whispering again, “You’re so handsome.”

“Thank you,” he exhaled.

“Hmmm, I love you.”

“I love you too. Now, come here.” He bundled you within his arms and blankets, reciprocating the many kisses.

Gang Orca

The apartment door opened to a dark, freezing living room. Not even candles or technology lights blinked. “Hey, Kugo, you home?”

No reply came. Certain he had beaten you home, you called his name a few times. You wrapped a blanket around yourself and walked through the rooms, failing to see him anywhere. You almost gave in and called his phone when a flash of his elbow poked out from the balcony window.

Quietly sliding the door ajar, Kugo came into sight, hunched over on the bench, holding his head in his hands. Piles of soggy paperwork stacked on the table. A bundle of pens acted as a paperweight. Though street lights poorly lit the deck, you could make out shaking shoulders from the billow and wet clothing from the clumping snowflakes.

“Kugo, are you okay?”

He didn’t answer.

“Did something happen?”

The nod of his head was barely perceptible.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He didn’t answer.

Hiding your sigh, you brushed the snow from him, removed the blanket from your shoulders, and draped it over his. Once he was covered, you softly spoke, “I’ll make you some tea, honey. I’ll be right back.” You kissed the top of his head, whispering before heading back inside, “I love you.”

While the water heated, you prepared two cups: green with milk for you and chamomile with honey for him. Then you bundled up in a sweatshirt, sweatpants, and another blanket.

Kugo didn’t react when you returned or when you joined him on the bench. He stiffened at your presence. You didn’t comment, only extended the tea. “Here.”

A trembling hand accepted the steaming mug. A ‘thanks’ mumbled out.

“It’s no problem.”

The urge to scoot closer rose, but you weren’t sure if he’d want that. And he certainly wasn’t in the mood for conversing. A gust blew your blanket around. Both of you shivered. He shifted so your legs were touching. His hand laid out. Very, very slowly, you wrapped your fingers around two of his, tenderly, reassuringly squeezing them.

Once they curled, you snuggled close and said, “I love you, Kugo. I’m here for you.”

Kugo rumbled quietly amidst the wind, “Thank you.”

#all might #all might x reader #yagi toshinori #toshinori x reader #fatgum #fatgum x reader #taishiro toyomitsu #taishiro toyomitsu x reader #gang orca #gang orca x reader #kugo sakamata #kugo x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha imagines

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