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peaceoutofthepieces · 3 years

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Tracing Time

Disclaimer that I am not a therapist nor bipolar but I have had a therapist so I’m hoping it’s not too awful of a depiction. Also want to add a minor content warning for the ending scene for homophobia, nothing explicit or even verbal, just a woman with an icky vibe.

Wednesday, 16:04

Song: Haux - Youth

Sander tips his head against the back of the couch and stares at the fan in the corner. It drones in slow circles, doing little more than disturbing the air right in front of it. It still makes the air in the room chilly enough that Sander is glad he’s wearing a sweater, though.

Between it and the window is an ‘abstract’ painting of the brain. Abstract in that the supposed organ is actually scattered in pieces throughout the canvas, all in various states of destruction. One has trees growing out of it, for example. Another is on fire; it’s Sander’s favourite.

He’d stared at it with an absurd sort of fascination in his first session, almost two years ago now, and his therapist, Agathe, had simply smiled at him and asked if he liked art. It was a sneaky way in, but he supposed that was the point. These meetings have gotten fewer and farther apart over that time, now that he can supposedly manage himself to a high enough standard on his own. Well, not quite enough, he supposes, or he probably wouldn’t be here at all. He can practically hear Agathe’s rebuke that they are just ‘casual check-ins’, and Sander is free to go whenever he pleases.

At every one of those reminders, Sander debates doing exactly that—getting up and going. Instead, he usually ends up slumping sullenly for a few minutes before Agathe prods her way back in.

They haven’t been mandatory in a long time, these sessions, but now there’s just something...reassuring. There are still times he doesn’t bother making an appointment, but knowing he can, and knowing that someone with the right knowledge doesn’t see any reason to worry about him, leaves a pretty damn good sense of relief.

And he did have a bit of a blip, at the start of the year. A few days in which he had to be prodded and coerced into just taking a drink of water, and had spent the majority of in his room. It had overlapped the holidays, so he’d let Robbe come and cocoon himself with him for a good chunk of the time.

It hadn’t made him better. But it made him...safe, or something similar, and that was the most he could hope for.

It was the coming-out-of-nowhere aspect that had shaken him a bit. He’d felt better, just keeping up his sessions then, being sure that he was at least doing alright with his medication. It’s working okay, the sitting and talking, so he shows up and just lets Agathe keep making sure.

The door cracks open now and she slips back in, dropping into the couch across from Sander and shooting him her usual calm, too-happy smile through light lipstick. It brings out her dimples. She’s not yet marred by wrinkles, but there’s something soft and aging about her face, anyway. Maybe it’s the graying roots. “Sorry about that, I forget this thing way too often.” She holds up the clipboard she’d carried in with an exasperated sigh, murmuring under her breath as she flicks through it and gets settled.

It’s all painfully familiar. It makes Sander smile.

He does like her. He’s never bothered denying that.

“So, how are we today?” It’s the same way she always starts, though it’s usually accompanied by—ah, there we go—clasped hands and another smile.

“Good,” Sander says. It’s automatic, but he also means it. Today is fine. It’s good.

She raises her brow when he doesn’t offer anything else. “Alright, good. Belated birthday wishes are in order, I believe?”

“Yeah, thank you. Just yesterday.”

She nods, and Sander does not think about how that was dumb when she obviously already knows. But she just settles back and crosses her legs. “Did you do anything to celebrate?”

Sander’s lips finally stretch in a smile of his own. He thinks it’s probably a little dopey, a little lovestruck, and she probably knows exactly what he’s going to say before he opens his mouth. “I had breakfast with my parents because Robbe took me out for dinner. Then he had a surprise party planned at our friends’ flat.”

“A party on a school night?” Agathe’s brows raise, and she shakes her head with a small laugh. “How do they deal with that today?”

“No clue,” Sander breathes out a huff of his own, trying not to feel overly amused by how Gilles had been in the class they shared with Sander earlier in the day. For once, they hadn’t said a word, just sat with their head down for the entire lecture, wincing every now and then when Sander laughed. He hadn’t even heard from any of the others, but Robbe had looked dead on his feet this morning, as well. He’d sent Sander a slightly sunnier selfie about half an hour ago, though, so he’s probably fine. “Not very well, I imagine.”

She tilts her head. “You seem well enough.”

“Well, I wasn’t drinking,” Sander shrugs.

At this, her serene little smile returns and her nod seems approving, and even though Sander hadn’t been looking for it, he grudgingly admits that it feels good. “I know that can be a difficult choice, and I’d rarely be able to make it myself,” she laughs again. “It’s great that you feel strong and comfortable enough in that group to do your own thing.”

Sander can’t help a little snort. “Are you kidding? It was one of them that had me drinking mocktails.”

“Really?” Agathe grins.

“Yeah, but then he got kinda drunk, and the last couple he made me were just disgusting because he thought these awful mixtures would be a really good idea.”

She laughs gently. “Well, it seems like it’s not the worst. ‘He’ isn’t Robbe?”

Sander shakes his head. “No, but one of his friends.”

“And what about Robbe, then? How is he?”

“Good.” A soft smile steals over his face. “The best, as always.”

“Treating you well.”

Sander’s smile widens, and he raises his brows without saying anything.

Agathe points at him. “Not what I meant, and not what I need to know.”

“I thought we can talk about whatever I want in here,” Sander says innocently.

“Alright, then,” she acquiesces. “Tell me all about it.”

Sander blanches. He thinks about it, opens his mouth, and then thinks about it some more. Closes his mouth again.

Her smile is downright devious. “That’s what I thought.”

He huffs. “It’s very healthy, just so you know.”

“I am sure.”

“Explorative. Always consenting, of course. Frequent.”

“All very normal and well for teenage boys,” she nods, and it would be completely serious if Sander couldn’t see her eyes twinkling. She pauses. “Although, I can’t call you that anymore. How does it feel to be twenty?”

Sander narrows his eyes. “Nice change of subject.”

“Oh, if you had more to say, please continue. Just a thought that occurred to me, I don’t mean to steer you, you know that.”

He does know that, and it makes him pause, because. How does it feel to be twenty? He realises he hasn’t thought about it. He realises that’s probably a good thing—that he didn’t get stuck on his birthday this year, that it was something he just enjoyed. Maybe it was simply going to sleep next to Robbe that helped, but no anxiety had taken over at the end of the day.

Even after his conversation with Jens. It’s not the most prominent part of the day of Sander’s mind even now. Instead he finds himself tucking his hand into his pocket and grasping Robbe’s key, running his thumb over the already familiar ridges.

He hadn’t even been worrying about his major fuck-up with his assignment. He’s still not.

He’s not really giving himself the chance.

Should he be?

“It feels the same as being nineteen,” he says finally. “I didn’t become a different human in a day, sadly.”

He can see her latching on. “Why do you say it like that?”

“Like what?”

“‘Sadly’?”

“It’s just...a joke.”

“Okay. But why do you think it’s funny?”

It annoys him, because she’s not judgmental. She’s neither amused nor disappointed. Just curious, earnest, all focused and attentive as she gazes calmly, patiently at Sander. Even his attempt at throwing her off, making her awkward, hadn’t shaken her. She remains unfazed, as always. It’s annoying.

“I don’t,” he admits, “I guess. I don’t know what I’d consider it.”

Agathe nods, softening in her understanding, and it makes something twist in his chest. “Are you not happy with the human you are, Sander?”

He gives her a bland look. When she keeps waiting, he shrugs, gesturing at the room.

“I know,” she says gently, “that of course, you feel you would be happier without your illness. But who you are now—what you study, what you’re passionate about, who you surround yourself with, how you live your life day to day. Do you wish all of that was different?”

Sander doesn’t have to think about it quite as much. “No. But I—“

He cuts himself off, hesitating. She raises her brows and nods, prompting him onwards but not pushing. If he really wants to wait her out, she’ll move on.

“I just wish that it was easier,” he says.

She tilts her head. “Easier how?”

“I messed up. At college. I completely missed an assignment because I mixed up the dates with another one.”

She winces in sympathy. “And what happened in that case? Does that mean that assignment is marked as a fail?”

“No,” Sander admits. “He gave me the time I thought I’d have to do it. Marked it down as an extension. It’s due on Friday now.”

“And is it going alright?”

“Yes.”

“You aren’t struggling with it too much?”

“No.”

“Then it seems like a fairly simple mistake. Easy to make and also, thankfully, easy to fix for you. It’s not unusual. But do you see it as an effect or consequence of your illness? Is that why it bothers you?”

Sander is quiet.

She sets her clipboard aside and leans forward, clasping her hands again as she considers him. “You have to remember, Sander, that all humans are not without fault. That regardless of who we are or what we may have to deal with, we will inevitably make mistakes. Not every slip up is a reflection of you, or a sign of failure, of failing health. You’ve actually been doing very well for a long time, now. But this belief, or this worry, that it is taking a hold of you again can sometimes help it take on that direction. Do you know what I mean?”

He takes a moment to absorb the words before nodding, knowing that if he answers too quickly she won’t believe he’s listening. But he does know. He understands. He hates that she’s probably right.

“So in a situation like this,” she continues, “do you not think, that it is more beneficial for you to focus on correcting your mistake and the fact that you have that ability? Not only mentally, but overall. That your professor is so understanding must mean he thinks well of you.”

He shouldn’t ask. He does anyway, quietly. “You don’t think it’s just pity, or something?”

“No,” she huffs. “No, I do not. Did he give you the impression that that was why he was doing it?”

Sander rolls his shoulders, adjusting his position. “No.”

Her smile returns. “I think,” she says slowly, “that this all shows just how well you’re doing. That you can acknowledge your doubts are likely just that—doubts—and that you take responsibility when you mess up and try to rectify it. Do you not think those are all good things? Things just as healthy as your sex life?”

It shocks a laugh out of him, and he sees her eyes crinkle. “Maybe,” he allows. “But it really is very healthy. I don’t know if anything else should be forced to live up to the standard.”

She represses a smile. “I remember there was a time when you would never have even spoken about this in such a kind way.”

She’s right. It still freaks him out, sometimes, the hypersexuality that can be induced by his mania, and it even made him hold back from Robbe after his episode, at the beginning. The last thing he wanted was to freak Robbe out, or disgust him, or make him uncomfortable. Then Robbe had seemed downtrodden for about a week before hesitantly asking Sander if he’d done something wrong or if Sander wasn’t actually attracted to him, and Sander had corrected his doubts and behaviour fairly quickly, because how dare the most beautiful boy in the universe think that?

“How do you feel you’re doing, Sander?” Agathe asks. “Because although I can observe, only you can feel what you feel. If you are genuinely worried, we can talk about it.”

“No,” Sander admits, after a moment. “I think everything is okay, actually.” Which is the best it can ever be, really.

Now her smile is genuinely happy. “I think so, too. And I think, even if it comes about that it’s not, you have a better support than ever. Do you agree?”

That one’s easy. “Yes.”

“It’s important to remember,” she adds, “maybe more than anything else, that if a lapse or an episode or whatever does occur, it’s not the end of the world. It’s also not a reflection of you, or a failure. Bad days, bad weeks, that’s all a part of life, and something we know you’re more than capable of dealing with and getting past. I’ve watched you do it many times before now and it’s an admirable, wonderful thing.”

Sander doesn’t actually know what to say to that. He just swallows, and feels oddly emotional, and offers her a slight nod.

The rest of the session passes in a lighter atmosphere. She lets him ramble about his assignment to alleviate what stress he does feel over it, and they spend the leftover minutes discussing his party.

Sander considers talking to her about the other thing on his mind, but ultimately decides against it. She’s already taught him how to work through that, and he really doesn’t think it will help to be putting it back into open air. Instead he leaves with a fairly upbeat farewell, and heads in the opposite direction from home.

Robbe had texted him about where he was meeting with Yasmina for a study session, and it takes Sander less than ten minutes of walking to get to the small cafe from his appointment. He sees the two of them as soon as he enters, but neither of them notice him, so he moves to the counter to buy himself a coffee before making his way over.

He’s a couple of feet away when Yasmina catches sight of him and offers her bright smile, and then Robbe is looking over his shoulder.

“Hello,” Sander greets them both, grinning as he cups Robbe’s cheek and leans down to kiss the crown of his head. “I can see we’re very busy.”

Robbe has his hand wrapped around Sander’s wrist, preventing him from pulling away. He turns his head and presses a sweet kiss to Sander’s palm, nuzzling lightly against it. Sander lets his fingers slip over and tug gently on the boy’s earring before Robbe tangles their hands together and offers Sander his crinkly smile. “Hi.”

“Not anymore, I guess,” Yasmina says dryly, but she’s still grinning when Sander glances back at her.

He raises his hands; well, his free one. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.” He hadn’t, really, he’d just wanted to be here when they were done to take Robbe home. He always likes being in the other boy’s company after a therapy session. Despite them not being quite so heavy at the moment, it’s always draining. Robbe is always able to replenish him with soft touches and soothing kisses, providing Sander with a silent, comforting company.

“Don’t be silly,” Robbe rebukes, predictably, swinging Sander’s hand idly now. “How are you?”

Sander squeezes his hand. “Good. I’m surprised you look so healthy, though.”

Robbe groans and buries his face against Sander’s arm. “Don’t. I’m suffering in silence.” He tilts his head ‘subtly’ at Yasmina.

Yasmina raises her brows at him, somehow managing to look wholly unimpressed and teasing all at once. “At least you can stave it off with sugar and coffee.”

Robbe has the sense to look sheepish, ducking his head in a nod. “You’re right, sorry, sorry.” He lets out a sigh. “You’re on too high of a level for me, Yasmina.”

“Queen shit,” Sander agrees, just to earn one of the girl’s unimpressed glances for himself. “Should I run now?”

She rolls her eyes. “Just sit down and drink your coffee. And keep your hands to yourself, if you can manage it? I still need my study partner, thank you.”

Sander grins and obeys, swinging a seat from the next table around to join them, dropping into it happily. He doesn’t place it as close to Robbe’s as he’d like, but Robbe leans into him for a moment anyway before refocusing his attention on his friend.

For the first while, Sander is content to listen and sip his coffee, feeling tiredness begin to creep into his bones. He lets his head loll against his own shoulder, trailing his eyes over Robbe’s profile and drifting into a sort of daydream. He can see the boy’s lips moving, but he has no idea what either of them are saying. They only let out the occasional comment, trading questions and answers and sighs and mutters. Robbe’s eyes are still red and a little puffy, a sign of his lingering exhaustion. He rubs at them absently as he looks down at his book and lets out another sigh, and leaves an eyelash on his cheek.

Sander reaches out and gently swipes it away with his thumb, an entirely mindless action that has Robbe looking at him in surprise before breaking out into a smile. He catches Sander’s hand before Sander can withdraw it completely, laying it on the table next to him. Instead of holding it, Robbe runs his hand along Sander’s sleeve, rubbing the soft seam between his fingers as he continues his work.

For some reason, it makes Sander blush. He’s sure his smile is unbearably happy, and he flicks a glance at Yasmina just to make sure she doesn’t know, only to catch her eye. She’s already smiling at him, and she purses her lips and raises her brows, teasing. Sander pulls a face at her, and she simply shakes her head as her smile widens.

“Can you work on your assignment while you’re waiting for us?” Robbe questions suddenly, drawing Sander’s attention back with a tilt of his head.

Sander glances at his bag, which he’s carried with him all day since he had to go straight to his session from a class. He considers for a moment but ultimately shakes his head. With yesterday being an exception, he usually prefers working at night—and when it’s not cutting into time he could otherwise spend admiring Robbe. “I’ll work on it when I go home,” he promises. Then, because he can’t help himself, “You’re too distracting.”

Robbe’s grin is small, and exasperated, but he yearns towards Sander, leaning across the table. Sander meets him and presses a quick kiss to his lips, then his nose, his cheek, before resolutely sitting back and waving at the textbooks and notes strewn in front of them. Robbe’s grin turns into a pout for half a second before he squeezes Sander’s wrist and focuses again.

Sander sinks back with a sigh, enjoying the feeling of Robbe’s fingers brushing against his wrist and skimming his hand, but he doesn’t feel quite as settled. There’s a prickle skittering over his neck, and he looks to his side and finds a woman staring at him.

Her nose is screwed, and there’s a vague curl to her lip. The disgust in her expression only heightens as Sander meets her eye and she flicks her gaze down to where Robbe’s hand rests over his. Sander can only stare back, dumbfounded.

When she looks at his face again, he raises his brows, as utterly bored as he can manage, and it only takes a moment for her to look away and get out of her seat across the cafe.

Sander tenses as she gets closer, hand enclosing around Robbe’s entirely, but she merely offers him another look before leaving. He deflates, squeezing Robbe’s fingers. It’s only when Robbe squeezes back that he panics again and quickly looks at the boy. But Robbe is in the middle of asking Yasmina a question, neither of them having noticed a thing.

“I meant to wish you a happy birthday,” Yasmina says, breaking him out of the moment. His mind has fogged over, and it takes him a moment to process the words. By then, she’s already moving on. “How was the party, anyway?”

Robbe and Sander share a look, and Yasmina waits. “Jens hardly said a word to me the whole day,” Robbe tells Sander, but he seems more amused than upset, so Sander allows himself to laugh.

“You didn’t tell him we didn’t actually do anything?”

“I did!” Robbe raises his hands. “He didn’t believe me.”

“What, what did you do to Jens?” Yasmina asks, confused. Then, after a second, “You know what, no, I probably don’t want to know.”

She cringes, and Robbe apologises profusely as Sander bursts into laughter, the weird incident from moments ago already forgotten.

Totally forgotten.

~^~

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#wtfock #sobbe #rosander #robbe x sander #sander driesen #sander season #tracing time #had to have yasmina in here at some stage!

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funjoushi · 3 years

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Miki/Souma is a perfect ship don’t @ me

This ship has taken me on one of those journeys that feels like it has just lashed me against the rocks and left me stranded. So bet prepared for a little bit of some slightly messy but extremely passionate meta.

I started out with “haha, Hakuouki keeps making rival pairs with blistering sexual tension” to “maybe this could be a tasty fucked up ship” to “oh no they are husbands” which is always a wild ride to go on let me tell you.

In general I tend to only get attached to an mlm ship once every ten thousand years. From my observations these ships tend to have a lot of intertwined personal history and themes of loyalty/sacrifice/self-loathing and idealism

However souma/Miki has some particular aspects that really stick out to me

As mentioned before, Hakuouki has a habit of setting up rival and antagonist relationships with a lot of sexual tension wether intended or not. The most notable being Shiranui/Harada and Kazama/Hijikata.

Kazama/Hijikata is only nominally similar as it is much more of genuine enmity but I do believe that the ultimate source of that rivalry is in personal weakness and seeing that weakness reflected in the other. Hijikata whole struggles with the loss of his humanity, and Kazama who rejects humanity altogether.

Shiranui/Harada is one much closer to Miki/Souma in that they are two very similarly motivated men who just happen to be on opposing sides. Shiranui and Harada are both motivated by loyalty to their friends and by love(you cannot convince me that Shiranui wasn’t in love with Takasugi).

Miki being Souma’s rival specifically never made sense to begin with and still doesn’t really, but as a result it leads to a much more fascinating dynamic. They aren’t sworn to kill one another nor obsessed with the other, but instead just two guys caught up in their own stories and cause them to clash.

The fact that they are not directly antagonistic to one another is something that is key to their potential dynamic. Yes, they started out at odds due to the factional divides, and Miki did accost Chizuru which earned Souma’s dislike, but on a personal level, it’s never more than a surface level dislike. Miki thinks Souma to be foolish and wasting his potential while Souma thinks Miki to be nothing but a brute.

However, in reality, they are far more similar than either of them first realise.

During most of their interactions, they appear to be pretty starkly contrasted. Souma is earnest, hardworking and incredibly humble. Meanwhile Miki is prideful, blunt, and distrustful.

However, if you recall...Souma was very different when he first met the Shinsengumi. When Souma was still employed by his domain, he was ashamed of his clan’s neutrality and disgusted of the general state of the country and of the bushi class. He at first views the Shinsengumi as nothing but violent wolves, but eventually comes to learn and understand them and want to be counted among them.

Which is to say that Souma in himself has some similar idealistic, judgemental and spiteful tendencies that Miki ends up displaying during his time in the Shinsengumi. Miki overall appears to view the Shinsengumi as similarly foolish and misguided

This viewpoint of Souma’s I view to be not all too different than how Miki views things, he simply has a different set of base values and puts a lot more value on birth station while Souma values action and conduct. At their core, both are unshakeably loyal which eventually leads to their actual clash.

Another major factor in my like for this ship came in one of the ginsei no shou episodes.

In a scene directly after Souma, Chizuru and Nomura escape Edo after Kondou’s execution, Souma reflects on how he now feels that he can understand how Miki feels. Looking back on how Miki became unhinged and obsessed with revenge after his brother was killed. Itou was like Miki’s sun, he states. Something that illuminated the path that he followed and made everything make sense. And Souma viewed Kondou in a similar way and in that moment feels blinding rage and a desire for vengeance towards those who killed Kondou. But then essentially Souma insinuates that the only thing keeping him from a path of bloodshed is his remaining friends. And so in that way he does not at all blame Miki for his revenge quest.

This section directly highlights how Miki and Souma mirror one another and hold within them very deep similarities.

Souma’s main character flaw is that he is deeply self-critical and has basically no self-esteem. He constantly pushes himself too far out of a desire to improve himself but without support that will only lead to ruin.

We can extrapolate some similar points from Miki, based on how over the course of Souma’s route he becomes increasingly more suicidal as his quest for revenge sends him to deeper and deeper depths, which culminates in him trying to die upon Souma’s sword in the final chapter.

However, Souma notices this. Souma could have easily chosen to just end it all there, but again. Souma has no particular grudge against Miki. And in truth, he pities and identifies with Miki.

It really just gets me, man. Like, I know that it’s because Miki survives historically, but despite that, they managed to make it so completely and utterly in character. It absolutely makes sense that Souma would show mercy. But what is truly beautiful to me is that said mercy is not out of any sort of pride or high morals, but out of pure and simple empathy.

Just about all of Miki’s former fellow Goryoueiji members are dead, his beloved older brother is dead. And on top of that he is estranged from both his birth family and adoptive family(historical detail not brought up in the game but it SHOULD BE). And while Souma has lost a lot, he still at the very least has Chizuru, and Souma’s humility also compels him not to take that for granted and reach out a hand to someone who wasn’t so lucky.

And considering that they do both survive, and as Souma says they “do not know what the future has in store” :) who knows! Maybe their paths may cross again.

Yes, I fully understand that the fact that Miki did try to kill Souma and Chizuru at one point might be a turn off to some people, which is fine. But also Chizuru was about to be killed by the Shinsengumi upon first meeting them. That’s just kinda how it goes in the world of samurai! And because the grudges aren’t specifc, that’s why I can still find them so compelling. Also I do find it so fascinating that Souma’s kyoto winds bad ending only occurs if Chizuru lets him kill Miki. Hmm! Funny that!

Anyway, in conclusion. This ship is good and no, I will not shut up about them. Thank you for reading and pls ready my fic--

#hakuouki #hakuouki meta #souma kazue #miki saburo #miki saburou #miki x souma #my stuff #my meta #the first image is an edit and not an actual game cap

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

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“School Life:” A Hoodie Season AU Prequel

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Hwang Hyunjin (SKZ)

Genre: Married Life AU (Hoodie Season Prequel)

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Mild Language

Summary: When Y/N is hired as the librarian at her former high school, she isn’t exactly thrilled to return. Of course, there’s also the issue of the persistent dance teacher who seems determined to win her affections.

Here’s a funny story: imagine promising yourself that you’d attend college, nail an awesome degree, and then find a job making six figures on an annual basis, only to return home with a teaching license to work at the same school that you attended when you were 16 while making less than acceptable.

Yeah, life had a funny way of making a joke out of itself, and the punch line is never really that good.

But there wasn’t time for me to complain about my prospects since I had been unemployed for six months with a lousy degree in literature that led to absolutely nothing. In desperate times, we’re often forced to do things that we hate, and I was certainly disenchanted with the idea of working in a high school library surrounded by horny and immature devils all the time.

“Good morning, Y/N!”

Oh, and I also had to deal with one of the most annoyingly persistent men on a regular basis. “What do you want, Hyunjin?”

Despite my dismissive tone, Hyunjin still leaned in across the check-out counter, and I could feel his eyes staring at my ass. “It’s my free period.”

“And?”

“And...you should come have coffee with me,” Hyunjin said, and I finally turned around to endure his flirtatious smile. It had only been two months since the start of the semester, and a grand total of two weeks since Hyunjin had first started trying his luck with me. But I was beginning to think that he didn’t know how to take a hint.

“I’m busy with paperwork,” I said, ignoring his crestfallen expression. However, in my defense, I wasn’t looking for a relationship, and I was far too preoccupied with my own self-loathing to entertain his advances.

“Again?” he pouted, giving me a look that I’m sure won the heart of any girl that he had the chance to impress.

It was too bad that they didn’t work on me.

“Bye, Hyunjin,” I said, giving him a cheeky smile before disappearing into my office.

The next morning, I noticed that Bang Chan, one of the upperclassman teachers, had arranged to pick up some books for his students. It required some set-up on my end with the computer system, and I was completing the necessary paperwork when Chan walked into the library. “Good morning, Y/N,” he said with a pleasant smile.

“Mr. Bang,” I greeted him in return. “I brought an empty cart for your request.”

“Perfect!” Chan smiled, walking around the counter to pull the cart towards the surrounding bookshelves.

I watched him from the corner of my eye while inputting the final codes for my spreadsheet. “Is this for a class project?”

Chan lifted his head from where he was examining a nearby book display. “Oh! Yeah, the kids like it when we do this kind of stuff. Well, I mean, they don’t like reading so much, but it’s better than tests.”

I nodded my head because I could certainly appreciate that considering some of the more stringent high school examinations that I recalled from my teenage years. “The school wants me to read you this long and boring list of protocols after you check-out something.”

“Yeah...” Chan trailed off with a chuckle. “Do you want to do it now...or?”

I grinned, closing out one of the tabs on my computer screen before joining Chan by the bookshelves. This close, I could appreciate the subtle scent of his cologne and his easygoing smile. “I think we can just skip it,” I said, raising a brow. “I’m sure you’ve heard it before.”

“You’ll let me off easy, Y/N?” Chan asked, turning around with a knowing look and I reveled in our simple flirtation.

“Since you’ve been so nice,” I said, breaking off when I heard the door to the library open again.

“There you are!” Hyunjin announced his presence, waltzing over to the two of us without a single care in the entire world. “How can I last all day without seeing this smile?”

I sighed when said smile disappeared. “What did you do before I came here?”

“It was a lonely workplace,” Hyunjin said, and I noticed the way that he had positioned himself between me and Chan.

“Anyway,” Chan continued, attempting to speak over Hyunjin despite his unexpected presence. “As a thank you, Y/N, would you like to come to the school’s basketball game this Friday? I coach the men’s team, and we’re undefeated this year.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s basically a tradition,” Hyunjin intervened, sending Chan a look. “The boys love the support from their teachers.”

“But Hyunjin, you don’t even-”

“You’ll come, right?” Hyunjin asked, interrupting Chan’s train of thought. In return, the older man merely shrugged before occupying himself with the task of stacking the books that he required onto the cart.

I studied Hyunjin’s beaming expression because, in all honesty, it was one of the very last things that I wanted to do, but it seemed unusually important - which meant that a small part of me was quite curious. “I guess I can try and clear some time,” I said with a shrug.

Hyunjin’s smile was impossibly large, and he leaned against Chan’s cart like he wanted to look as cool and laid-back as possible. “You know, Y/N,” he started. “I think you and I share a lot in common.”

“I doubt that,” I said with a tense smile.

“We both care a lot about our students,” Hyunjin said, and I tried not to laugh because Hyunjin couldn’t begin to imagine just how much I didn’t want this particular job on my resume. “We’re also good-looking people.”

The comment was shallow, and I didn’t feel that impressed by his attempt to compliment me. Meanwhile, Chan snorted around a laugh as he pushed his cart back, nearly sending Hyunjin sprawling into the floor. “I have things to do,” Chan said, excusing himself politely while a flustered Hyunjin tried to play off his decidedly uncool moment.

“If only your students were around to see this...” I trailed off with a distracted sigh, leaving Hyunjin behind spluttering out nonsensical words while I returned to the sanctity of my private office.

On Friday night, I parked my car near the back of the school before entering the loud and unusually crowded gymnasium where, for just a split second, I almost considered walking back out the door. It smelled like sweat and dirty laundry, and the bleachers looked uncomfortable, especially since everyone was forced to sit shoulder-to-shoulder. “What fresh hell is this?” I grumbled, shouldering off my jacket since I definitely wouldn’t need it.

I proceeded to walk around the proximity of the gym, searching for familiar faces. I spotted Chan standing on the sidelines with another teacher (Changbin, maybe?) before I realized that someone was calling my name from behind me. I turned around to greet Han Jisung, one of the Freshman English teachers, and he pointed to a section where I recognized several other staff members. “You can join us if you want,” Jisung said and I nodded my agreement.

He led us through the crowd of eager fans, keeping an eye on me as I teetered precariously on the old bleachers wearing high heels that I definitely regretted. But at the very top, I could see some familiar faces, including one that appeared far more eager than the rest. “Oh, Y/N,” Hyunjin said. “I’m glad to see you. It’s nice to have the teachers support our teams.”

“You never come to the basketball games,” Felix said, and Hyunjin shot him a silencing glare.

“What are you talking about, Felix?” Hyunjin asked with wide eyes. “I always support the school.”

“Sure,” Seungmin snorted as if he was simply placating Hyunjin’s obvious fabrication.

“Yeah, I heard it was something else,” I said, taking a seat next to Han before turning my attention to the game.

I wasn’t a big sports fan by any means, and I struggled to make sense of the chaos that included a bunch of teenage boys running up and down the court wearing their brightly-colored uniforms. Sometimes a whistle blew or the shot clock made a truly horrible sound when the buzzer went off to conclude the end of game-time. Otherwise, I felt utterly confused as I sat back and nodded when one of the other teachers surrounding me made a comment that I certainly didn’t understand.

When the game reached halftime, Hyunjin immediately stood up from his seat, starting down the staircase as he chanced a look back over his shoulder. “They have refreshments outside,” he said to me. “My treat?”

I placated him with a nod, following him into the slowly forming crowd attempting to migrate outside of the gymnasium where the smell of pizza and nachos was especially prominent. Hyunjin and I stood at the back of the line, and I swallowed down a feeling of claustrophobia. Meanwhile, I hadn’t noticed that Hyunjin was looking at me until he finally made his voice audible over the white noise of the surrounding crowd.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Hyunjin said, giving me, what I assumed, was his best attempt at a humble expression. “I’m sorry if I’ve done something to offend you...”

“It’s not so much that,” I said. “But it’s tiresome to see you put so much effort into flirting with me.”

“Oh...” Hyunjin said, clearing his throat awkwardly, but he also seemed hurt by my admission. “I’m not, like, some kind of serial dater or something. I genuinely thought you were interesting when we met at the teacher’s conference for the first time.”

“You did?” I asked, studying this vulnerable version of Hyunjin with close scrutiny.

“Yeah.” He nodded, adjusting the beanie hugging the crown of his hairline. “I’m kinda bad at this type of thing, but you’re different from the others. I think you and I both know that’s not always a bad thing, and I was hoping that you might at least give me one tiny little chance at a date.”

I gave him my full attention then, and I found myself taken aback by the look of earnest interest reflecting back at me in warm swirls of brown. “Okay,” I said, deciding that it couldn’t possible hurt to give him an opportunity. “But do me a favor and at least have a better excuse the next time you come into the library,”

Hyunjin had the decency to blush, and I couldn’t help but smile as we took another step forward.

It was Saturday evening when Hyunjin picked me up in front of my small apartment complex. I settled next to him in the front seat, smiling in his direction when he extended a tentative greeting. “How are you, Y/N?” he asked, and I was surprised to hear a hint of nervousness in his tone.

“I’m good,” I said. “But what’s this surprise all about, Hyunjin?”

“No spoilers,” Hyunjin said, and he seemed to regain some semblance of his former confidence as we drove down the crowded city streets in the direction of the main interstate.

“Well, I expect something classy since you made such a big deal about dressing up for the occasion,” I said, reaching down to smooth my hands along the hemline of my skirt.

“I don’t know much about you,” Hyunjin admitted. “But I had a friend give me some advice.”

“Dating advice?” I questioned, smirking in his direction. “You must not go on very many dates.”

“Not really,” Hyunjin remarked. “Despite what you might be thinking, it’s never been a big thing for me.”

I contemplated his words, watching as he drug his bottom lip between his teeth to worry the skin. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Hyunjin said. “I guess I’m not very good at making connections with people. I’ve been told that I can come on too strong.”

I laughed at the honest assessment. “Maybe you just need more practice.”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin agreed. “But is that okay with you? I mean, now that you know that I don’t have any idea about what I’m doing.”

“I think it’s more exciting,” I told him. “It also explains why you’re flirting was so over the top at the beginning of the semester.”

Hyunjin groaned as if embarrassed by the reminder. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said, reaching across the console to take his willing hand. “If you were quiet, then we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Hyunjin let out a shaky exhale, studying me for a moment from the corner of his eye. “I want to make a better impression on you, Y/N.”

“Trust me,” I said with a smile. “The impression I already have of you is quite persuasive.”

Hyunjin nodded, and a comfortable silence proceeded before he fumbled with the buttons on the radio to allow some music to accompany the remainder of our drive together. It was something techno and upbeat - the kind of thing that just made sense to me because I knew that he was a dance teacher. But in any case, I only really started to pay attention when I noticed that we had somehow entered the more upscale part of the city.

Maybe Hyunjin was really doing his best to impress me.

“Here we are,” Hyunjin said, pulling into a parking spot lining the side of a very familiar building.

I realized immediately that it was the opera house which meant that the Hwang Hyunjin had brought me to a pretentious affair that certainly held no appeal to someone like myself. But I tried to keep my smile, nodding at him while he handed our tickets over to the attendant. Meanwhile, at the back of my head, all I could think about was the fact that Hyunjin might’ve been trying too hard with our first date. Especially as I observed the expensive theater.

“I heard it’s a classic,” Hyunjin whispered to me after we found our seats in the middle of the enormous crowd.

“Great,” I murmured back, trying not to feel so out of place.

Instead, I focused on the show in front of me, clapping along with everyone else because I had no idea when it was actually appropriate to do so. In fact, I was forced to laugh even though I couldn’t figure out what was funny, and I shifted uncomfortably when the older gentleman next to me started crying during one of the scenes. Apparently, the gathered crowd of patrons had rehearsed all of this before attending the show, and I was left pretending to understand the social cues that the others had already memorized.

It was actually rather draining, and I forced a smile at Hyunjin when he looked down at me. “You’re not having fun,” Hyunjin finally said during intermission.

“What do you mean?” I asked, but I wasn’t nearly as convincing of an actress as the people on stage.

Hyunjin sighed. “Honestly, Y/N, do you even like this?”

I swallowed hard, struggling under the scrutiny of his gaze. “It’s...alright?”

Hyunjin grinned, but it didn’t seem genuine. “Come on,” he said, rising from his seat. “I don’t think we’ll be missing out by leaving early.”

I reluctantly took Hyunjin’s outstretched hand, allowing him to pull me down the aisle before we trudged through the crowded lobby and into the refreshing night air. The parking lot was still full of cars, and Hyunjin had parked us somewhere near the back since we weren’t aware of the necessity of arriving to these shows several hours before start time. But I didn’t mind the walk because I was trying to think of something to say to a downtrodden Hyunjin who paused next to his car.

“Look,” I finally said with an endeared smile. “You don’t have to try so hard to impress me.”

“I screwed everything up,” Hyunjin said, and I was sad to see that he was genuinely upset as he leaned against the side of his car.

“No, you didn’t, Hyunjin,” I tried to tell him, but he wasn’t having any of it.

“I really like you,” Hyunjin said. “And this felt like my one opportunity to get something right, but I fucked up again.”

I took a deep breath, tilting my head to catch Hyunjin off-guard as I brushed a soft kiss across his lips. “I can tell you have a good heart, and that’s all I care about, okay?”

Hyunjin seemed completely taken aback, and I was worried that I had sent him into some kind of shock, but he allowed one hand to wrap around my waist as he brought us closer. “Thank you, Y/N,” he said, and our second kiss was reciprocated by both sides - a tender exchange of out deepest feelings. “Does this mean that I might get a chance at another date?” he asked, looking at me with sincere brown eyes.

“I think you’re worth it,” I told him despite how cheesy it sounded inside my head.

“This makes us official, right?” Hyunjin asked, and I should’ve known better than to expect something normal with him. Doing things by the book with all the cliches involved didn’t really seem like Hyunjin’s kind of thing - and I liked him even more because of it.

“Yeah, if you want labels or whatever,” I grumbled, but his teasing laugh was the best kind of medicine. Needless to say, our first night together was perfect in every way.

#stayverse #stray kids #skz #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin fanfic #skz hyunjin #hwang hyunjin fanfic #hyunjin fanfic #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids writer #stray kids marriage au #mostlycompetent

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quasitsqueeries · 2 years

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Role playing religious characters

I guess while I’m writing about clerics is as good a time as any to talk about this. Religion is a fundamental part of Dungeons & Dragons. The gods are active in the world and several classes’ powers are derived directly from divine entities. It may be different with other groups but I’ve often found that players struggle to express the religion of characters who are religious.

I have two thoughts about why this might be. The first reason is that D&D is power fantasy, characters feel really badass and I think this can drive a tendency in players to want to feel powerful. Recognising that your character’s power is derived from another entity can make that difficult, particularly when for most characters, power is an expression of martial training or academic study (or just being born with it in the case of sorcerers). It can take a bit of a shift in perspective to play a character whose power derives from their faith in something bigger than them.

The second reason is atheism. Not only that many more people grow up outside of religion than in the 70s when D&D was first developed, so there are fewer people who are familiar with it, but also that there’s a sort of general discomfort around the idea of religion which I think can make many people reluctant to engage with the idea of it. It might be that people see religion as too earnest for a game about bashing up monsters or that they see the major monotheistic religions of the real world as too corrupt and they don’t want anything to do with religion because of that.

Either way I think it’s worth exploring characters’ religion because it can lead to more compelling stories. Characters have lots of motivations but I think duty is a really interesting one. It can achieve several things to have a character with a sense of duty. The first is to easily give your character a set of motivations that aren’t necessarily your own, which is really important for role playing. Another is that having a connection to a deity or an institution like a church or temple ties your character into the world, DMs generally love this sort of thing because it gives them hooks they can use to engage your character and the party. Also, these kinds of motivations can help to get away from the good/evil understanding of characters (I think alignment is the worst thing about D&D), I find thinking about what a character will sacrifice their own needs, or betray others, for is much more compelling. Of course this commitment could also be to an ideology or an institution, religion is just one way of thinking about it.

In the 21st century, in the West, our experience of religion tends to be of monotheistic ones, whereas all the D&D settings (that I’ve encountered) are polytheistic. The domains system kind of makes polytheism inherrent to D&D (I guess you could make a monotheistic setting where domains reflect different aspects of a single god, but I haven’t seen that done). Polytheistic and monotheistic religions have very different characteristics and it often seems like people assume the qualities of monotheistic deities in polytheistic ones because of what they’re used to seeing, things like omnipotence, a claim to absolute morality and absolute authority. By contrast, polytheistic religions tend to depict their gods as much more human, they bicker, they’re jealous, their power is limited (a lot of the gods in D&D were once human).

If you want inspiration for how to play a religious character in D&D, don’t look at Christianity, look at heroic myths from polytheistic societies. Myths about gods are useful, but myths about humans are better because they tend to depict how those humans engage with the gods. The Iliad is particularly useful, with Achilles offending Apollo by sacking his temple, or Agamemnon’s sacrifices to Zeus in memory of the fallen Achaeans. It’s been a while since I’ve read about Cuchulain or Brynhilde or Gilgamesh so maybe it’s time to do some more reading. Having a character who worships a god or pantheon, but is also aware that there are other gods, and theirs is not all powerful, can be really interesting, it means your character’s acts reflect more on their god and maybe their god’s relationship to other gods.

I also think it’s good to practice role playing calling on your character’s god (or maybe the nature spirits in the case of druids and rangers) to lend you their power. Trust me, it still feels pretty badass to be role playing someone who’s channeling the power of divine entities.

#dnd #dnd stuff #dungeons and dragons #ttrpg #cleric

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thewreckkelly · 3 years

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Window to a World - Number 2

Serving Two Masters

It can be reasonably argued that prior to 1656 painting pictures was regarded as a craft and not art. The date is important because that’s when a Spanish ‘craftsman’ was commissioned by King Philip IV to paint a ‘portrait’ of the Princess Margaret Theresa.

-o-

Stephen is a professional musician who has served his time learning his craft on the way to producing art. He now took his time considering my ‘Window to a World’ question – confirming twice over a two day period as to exactly what I meant and/or expected by way of an answer.

I continued to keep it simple and difficult; ‘anything you have experienced that allowed you to see a different world and shaped your thinking in one way or another and remains fixed in your psyche’

For obvious reasons I expected his reply to be something musical based; a lyric, an artist, a performance, a piece of music, even an instrument possibly ….

I was wrong.

‘It’s a pretty wide ranging question and to be honest’, he began with the earnest expression of one to whom such a concept has importance, ‘for me, there have been many such experiences and I’ve been trying to separate them into some sort of order of personal importance to come up with something definitive but, much as I try, cannot reduce them to any less than two ….. and even then …..’,

‘Two is allowed’, I conceded, ‘what are they?’

-o-

In June 1995 a London born sugar trading magnate brokered the purchase of a Dutch Master for the princely sum of approximately €8,000,000

-o-

‘The first would be Las Meninas by Diego Velázquez’, he said with some care before pausing as if to conjure up a fuller picture in his mind.

‘Why’, I asked quietly and carefully so as not to break the mood.

‘It was the first time I truly understood that a great painting had its own language, can speak to those who looked at it in a way that was both universal and personal’, again he went into his own thoughts, likely lost to an indelible image imprinted on his mind.

I waited, silent and patient.

‘Simply put; Las Meninas is an expression of great craftsmanship, a visual representation of a time and place where formality dictated class and adherence to etiquette, a product produced by order of a king in return for money and stature with certain expectations to such a bargain …..’

He looked directly at me to see if I was following. I held his gaze allowing him to continue without interruption.

‘But it was, is, so much more than that’, his tone now becoming passionate, ‘it’s full, it’s exciting, it’s rebellious, it’s a puzzle, an enigma, an adventure in departure and self awareness, an enduring flight of realism and fantasy born of the hand, eyes and mind of the gifted who is inspired and inspires’

The musician took a moment to draw breath and consider further.

‘The first time I saw it I was captivated and struggled to wonder why. I didn’t know the painter or the subjects painted, had no idea of background whatsoever, this work from a period that truthfully held no known interest to me beforehand’

His enunciated thoughts now struggling to keep up with the visual and vocal emotions waving through his brain,

‘When I did research it the result was even more exhilarating, led me to understand more, helped me comprehend fully why this work has endured and influenced so many for so long …. but the funny thing is, despite knowing more I somehow knew I already knew as much as could be known from the moment I first laid eyes on it ….. this piece of extraordinary art spoke to me in a language I felt rather than read with my eyes or heard with my ears …… and that was both shocking and thrilling’

He had finished and we both took time to reflect. I was aware of the painting and am, perhaps, equally enamoured with it, yet could not have expressed its importance in as passionate or concise a manner as he had just done. We sipped our drinks and let the moment linger before I, somewhat bluntly, broke the mood;

‘And the second?’

‘You’ll really appreciate the second’, he smiled.

‘Go on then’

‘Do you remember that time we went to Highbury to watch an Arsenal game and I couldn’t sit with you and Robert, had to sit in a different part of the stadium?’

‘Yep, you used my season ticket and I got two seats off a tout for me and Rob’

‘That’s the one’, he nodded, ‘and you jokingly said to me; make sure you keep an eye on the number 10’

‘Bergkamp’

‘Who else’

‘Okay’

‘That was the first time I’d seen him live and finally realised why they called it the beautiful game’, he stopped and shrugged his shoulders, ‘sorry, that was the first time I realised he was the reason they called it the beautiful game’

For the next hour or so the two of us reflected and reminisced on how that Dutch Master changed the way we viewed the game we loved along with properly defining the working class ballet we call football - how Dennis Bergkamp provided a window into a world that changed our world.

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quirkless-and-embarrassed · 4 years

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Todoroki Shouto

I felt like doing a character meme!

Favorite thing about him:

Is it cheating to say everything? It is? Okay… I love how he’s painfully kind while also painfully bad with people. I love how he swore not to use his fire half, and he took that oath so seriously that he felt pulling Midoriya aside to apologize and explain (in depth) was necessary. I love that his hand trembled when he went to see his mom—especially that he was so afraid of being like Endeavor, he couldn’t bear to show his face to her for years in case she mistook him again. I love how he learns from his mistakes, whether it’s combat-related like blocking his field of vision against Stain or emotional like realizing how his spiteful focus on Endeavor has blinded him to the needs of people around him. I love how he doesn’t feel the need to posture and act like he has the answers: he can openly admit he doesn’t know and that he needs to reflect more to find the right path for him. I love how rude he is. I love how he unquestionably leapt to Midoriya and Iida’s aid in Hosu. I love his fight against Midoriya.

Least favorite thing about him:

Hmm…most of my problems are with Horikoshi, not Todoroki. I like that Todoroki’s reaction to Endeavor vs the nomu was complex, that he was afraid for Endeavor, cares about him, and is ambivalent about the idea of Endeavor’s “redemption,” but I wish his love for his dad had more of a foundation—from what Horikoshi shows us, I have no idea why he cares about Endeavor other than a vague, dissatisfying “he’s my dad” feeling. Why are Todoroki’s feelings more complicated than flawless loathing? What’s the basis for his ambivalent affection towards Endeavor? I wish I knew more.

Okay, for about Todoroki specifically in-universe…I guess I wish he would talk a little more. He seems like he struggles with finding a middle ground between saying nearly nothing and oversharing.

Favorite line:

That’s a nasty scar you got there *SLUUURP* and are you All Might’s lovechild. I also loved it when Todoroki glared dramatically at Endeavor and then failed hard at introducing himself to the kids.

…And I love the line where Bakugo stridently claims no, he will not tell stupid Deku his brand-new, top-secret hero name, and Todoroki cluelessly asks, “Could you tell me, then?”

BROTP:

Midoriya, Bakugo, Yaoyorozu, Iida—I think those relationships really speak for themselves <3

This fic made me love Todoroki and Kaminari, please give me Todoroki working on his sense of humor and he asks Kaminari for help, only to repeatedly and ignorantly roast Kaminari while attempting to learn.

Also, Asui and Todoroki are really underrated; I feel like they’d have understated but interesting chemistry. They’re both exceptionally blunt, and unlike some of the others, Asui is perceptive+grounded enough to notice how awkward and uncertain Todoroki is (instead of the coolest, handsomest boy in class image). I’d LOVE to see them talk about their siblings, since Asui is the oldest and she takes care of her mini frog siblings, and Todoroki is the baby of the family who’s trying to figure out his relationships with Fuyumi and Natsuo (and eventually, Dabi). Oh, and Asui has more respect for authority than Todoroki does, so also seeing them clash over that would be interesting.

Or! Maybe Todoroki finally, accidentally catches Hagakure in one of his area ice moves and feels really bad about it, so Hagakure teaches him to watch out for her by making a game out of sneaking up on him. She also exercises some teenage flirtation in his direction and he has no idea.

Or imagine Jirou trying to figure out if Todoroki has feelings for Momo and accidentally becoming friends as she susses him out and realizes he’s an irredeemable dork instead of ice prince badass. She’s appalled he doesn’t know much about music!

OTP Rarepairs:

Todoroki/everyone basically, so it’s more interesting to talk about my todo rarepairs than run of the mill ships.

Todoroki/Shinsou is cute…they both enter class 1-a with the attitude “I’m not here to make friends” and get hit with a match versus Midoriya in the Sports Festival—oops! They both became heroes partly from antagonistic spite, to defy Endeavor / the stereotype of brainwashing, which throw long shadows over who they fear they could become, and despite being on the quiet side they’re both pretty dramatic. Idk much about Shinsou’s backstory, but he definitely has a bit of a depressed, wary aura about him together with his fiercely idealistic, “I will never be like that” attitude, a combination that would resonate with Todoroki.

Probably at first Shinsou would be pretty cold to Todoroki, since even after being accepted into class 1-a he’d have some lingering resentment for those who are naturally blessed and admission was a slam dunk, and, in an effort to prove himself against the quietest of the strongest students, he’d make it his mission to provoke+brainwash Todoroki. Despite himself, Shinsou gets attached as he tries to figure Todoroki out, and he realizes the sorts of obstacles this “naturally blessed, slam-dunk admission” student had to overcome to get here.

In short, I’m a sucker for it ok, brotp or otp i’m down, but also in this case the romantic element of seeing themselves in each other gets to me bad.

Second rarepair, Todoroki/Hawks—hear me out ok!! These two would have the funny elements of Hawks/Endeavor but without Endeavor’s grossness. Even after he makes pro, Todoroki admires Hawks as the number two hero whose playful, casual MO is radically different from his own, more solemn style, and Hawks delights in being obnoxious and pokes fun at the straightforward, a bit dense Todoroki every opportunity he gets. Todoroki recognizes Hawks’s playful demeanor and knows he’s joking, but…being a dork…he doesn’t know what to say, so he just responds with total seriousness. Hawks is perceptive enough to know Todoroki noticed the joke, and Hawks’s awareness of that transforms Todoroki’s awkwardness into a dry, deadpan sarcasm, and the two of them can actually, like…have banter.

Working with Hawks semi-regularly, Todoroki has to rise to the challenge of meeting Hawks’s quips with enough insight and empathy to intuit the bleaker truths behind Hawks’s facade as this guy who doesn’t want to work too hard. Todoroki grew up as Endeavor’s tool, Hawks grew up as the hero commission’s tool; Todoroki responded with defiance, Hawks responded with salty compliance; Todoroki prioritizes his personal moral compass over the law/government, Hawks prioritizes the government over both his moral compass and the law; and Todoroki admires All Might, whom Hawks professes not to be so fond of, while Hawks admires Endeavor, knows Dabi, and all the obvious issues that brings up—so I think these two have tons of common ground to build a rapport and also clash with each other in ways that would be interesting for their development. For example, Todoroki can tell Hawks it’s your power and encourage him to take hold of his own destiny instead of being used, and Hawks can help Todoroki work on the shortage of social acuity he inherited from Endeavor.

I love the brotp but the otp has such comedic potential fused with such tragic potential, like by taking hold of his fate Hawks makes some choices Todoroki can’t forgive, and by helping Todoroki learn to connect to people Hawks opens him up for a world of pain when things go south, I can’t resist.

NOTP:

As long as the execution is good, I’m good. A ship that I hate in one person’s hands, I might love in another’s.

Random headcanon:

Todoroki is the #1 cockblocker in Class A. Nobody kills romantic tension like Todoroki wandering in, oblivious to what he’s just interrupted.

Also, Fuyumi gave him The Talk.

Unpopular opinion:

Hmm…not sure how unpopular this is, but while Todoroki understands that Endeavor abused Rei, but I don’t think he understands that Endeavor abused him too. Clearly Todoroki understands that it was bad, but now he’s one of the best students in one of the best high schools in the country instead of on a psych ward (Rei) or in the ground (Touya), so he doesn’t realize just how bad it was. Sort of a, “I was strong enough to take it, so it wasn’t really bad, not like how he was to my mom.”

Also, I love tododeku and I love dadzawa, but I’m frustrated by the number of fanfics that portray Todoroki as meek and crushed under Endeavor’s boot, in need of rescue.

Okay, one last one, because I’m not sure how unpopular any of these actually are. I think Todoroki is actually pretty anxious to fit in with his peers? Like he seems pretty aloof and doing his own thing, but I think it’s more due to uncertainty over what to do than because he’s that naturally withdrawn.

Song I associate with him:

Unbreakable by Miracle, Ember by Katherine McNamara, and Brave by Riley Pearce come to mind.

Favorite picture of him:

OKAY HERE ARE A FEW

VS Midoriya – Todoorki’s whole awakening, self-actualization sequence is beautifully, beautifully animated. I love the flashes to black and white and the graceful, profound arc of Todoroki raising his left hand.

Ch43 – His haunted expression when he extinguishes his fire, forfeiting to Bakugo.

Ch63 – He looks so sweetly earnest when he realizes he screwed up by disregarding Yaoyorozu’s opinion, and he immediately takes action to fix it.

Ch112 – His badass expression when he and Inasa wordlessly team up.

Ch164 – His sour, cross expression when Endeavor embarrasses him.

I had to make some painful choices on which scenes to leave out, but I think five is enough.

I’ve also done these questions for Bakugo, Uraraka, Endeavor, Amajiki, Sir Nighteye, and Shinsou!

#todoroki shouto #shoto todoroki #bnha #nerd mumbling #todoroki #text #ask meme #todoshin #todohawks #kaminari #asui #hagakure #jirou #shinsou #hawks

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ianlightft · 4 years

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‘The clear path is never the right one’

Name: Iandore ‘Ian’ Lightfoot Age: 20 DoB: May 18th Major: Literary Arts Year: 2nd (started late due to some personal issues) Dorm: Clumber House

✦ — what are you keeping from the original canon

Ian’s family dynamic is much the same; supportive older brother, mostly having been raised by a single mother until his teens when she started dating again, lost his father to cancer before he was born. Grew up in the suburbs outside Detroit in a moderately comfortable home life with his dog Blazey but not a lot of friends between his brother’s antics and his own tendency to be shy as a kid.

Obviously his magic is gone but that’s replaced with an exceptionally sharp creative streak inherited from his dad, and a lot of pressure to be like him. His family always expected him to become a talented computer programmer like Wilden, a real tech ‘wizard’ but it wasn’t what Ian wanted and led to a lot of doubting himself.

✦ — personality

+compassionate, +curious, +intelligent

-scattered, -anxious, -withdrawn

Ian has lived much of his life in a careful sort of way, being born very soon after his father’s death from a long-term fight with cancer, his mom was very protective of her youngest child and it affected him. A bit on the neurotic side, he very much wants to connect with people but is awkward in the attempt.

Most of his life he’s depended on his family, especially his big brother, to encourage him and give him that sense of safety. Unfortunately, they’ve also always projected how much he reminds people of his dad in a well-meaning way. Ian has struggled with the idea of longing to have known his father but weary of being compared to the memory of someone he cannot connect to.

He can be bold, but more for the sake of others than himself, and he tries hard but falters more than he likes to admit. He’s earnest and charming in his clumsy way, loyal to a fault, but also rather stubborn and doesn’t always see the bigger picture at times. He’s also a bit dependent on others so far as being vulnerable to manipulation in his eagerness to fit in somewhere.

✦ — your characters schooling

Ian is majoring in Literary Arts, surprisingly, since everyone expected him to take to tech like his dad. But he writes, that’s what he wants to do; most of his classes reflect that, along with some standard classes. He enjoys learning, very focused and fixated on details; his organization skills are great.

Unfortunately he’s less adept in physical classes and basically avoids sports teams for that reason unless he’s on the sidelines. Even then he finds it dull, honestly.

He’s a bit too withdrawn to be overly involved in clubs, but he does hang around the theater club at times to watch them. He wants to be much more social than he seems to accomplish being and drifts from one idea to the next without having yet found any club where he’s wanted to stick around long.

✦ — three head canons

Relationships.

Ian’s only recently discovered his interest in other people, earlier efforts having been a disaster and resolved to the idea he was asexual. Turns out not so much. He figured he wasn’t straight but being gay took a while to come to terms with. And that’s awkward. He’s not even told his family yet, even though he’s pretty sure they’d be okay with it. But now he has something else to add to the list of things to figure out about himself, apparently. Which is just great, oh yeah, he’ll just work that whole self-affirming sexuality thing in between classes and studying, sure.

Dorm Life.

Let’s just say Ian is an interesting roommate to have. Because while he’s at times a typical college student in some ways; he’ll wear his favorite hoodie or flannel overshirt for a week straight and live on vegetarian pizza, he has just as many odd habits. Like a time limit to how long he can live in messy chaos before he has to clean the entire room and organize things; about a week or so before he gets twitchy. And expect post-it notes to be everywhere, he lives by them. He’s easy enough to get along with, but his roommates really aren’t thrilled that he binge-watches old sci-fi movies all hours of the night and has two alarm clocks just to drag out of bed in time for class.

Notebooks.

Ian is never without a notebook, or a few of them; he writes to-do lists and scrawls down memories with an avid determination. All he ever had from his dad was an old picture or two, so he’s determined to commit the things he wants to remember to paper to save them forever. It gives him a sense of control over a life he’s always felt lacked that, lists and notes to give him confidence, life penned so that it’s always there to look back on. He thinks like a writer and finds a sort of calm in the ability to capture his days with words.

#sherwood.intro #ian.intro #cancer tw #death tw

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honeymoonjin · 5 years

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bts reaction - you’re an activist

A/N: requested by a lovely anon :)

Jin

on the surface, jin just takes the opportunity, as usual, to crack a few jokes at your expense

but practically the moment you decided you were going to cut down on single-use paper waste like paper towels and tissues because of the rampant deforestation going on across the planet, jin was quietly researching behind the scenes

some things were fine, like the fact that he always used his own chopsticks rather than the disposable wooden ones restaurants would give you

but on other points he realized just how much waste he was throwing away every day

it’s not until he pulls out an actual handkerchief out of his pocket to blow his nose with instead of the box of tissues right there that the members notice a change

they started to make fun of him for being an old man, but he just loudly defended himself with statistics on how much trees went into making tissues every year

jin won’t be going out on the streets and marching to parliament and doing the nitty gritty work that you felt a calling to do, but he’s taken these small domestic sacrifices completely on board and you couldn’t be prouder

more so that instead of just following you, he’s been doing his own research and even coming up with ideas to improve things more

you just about got down on your knees and proposed right then and there when you came home one day to see he had color-coded microfiber rags and dish towels so that you could stop using paper towels all the time

(though you’re a little concerned that one day he’s going to want to come up with a way to get rid of toilet paper)

even as he struggles with being more mindful of some things, others are a bonus

you don’t want to keep using condoms as it’s a huge waste, so you get an IUD and jin just about cries in happiness the first time he gets to have sex without a condom and come inside you

it makes everything else worth it, not that he could tell that to his members

Yoongi

yoongi is such a blunt, straightforward person that it makes sense that his girlfriend would be the same

even though south korea is very traditional and deeply homophobic, even though his own reputation in the eyes of those older generations is nose-diving, he has the proudest beam on his face every time he sees you protesting for LGBT+ rights

one time, you were going on strike after a BigHit employee from the same department as you was fired once he filed to have his name and gender in the registry changed to reflect himself accurately

the whole building, but particularly both BTS and TxT had been given explicit instructions not to go out the front doors where you all stood, and most definitely not to interact or publicly comment on it

but yoongi took a little backbone from jin and ignored that stupid rule completely

every morning he stopped by with more heat packs and some breakfast in thermoses, in the evenings he would take away the blankets that had gone slightly frosty and replace them with new ones so that you wouldn’t freeze overnight

and not just for you, yoongi wanted to do the same for every single one of the thirteen of you standing outside, because he wasn’t allowed to be there himself and he wanted to support it in any way he could

of course some fans stopped stanning bts after they knew one of the members openly supported trans rights, but those that stayed had a deeper respect for them, and he was only too happy to get rid of the close-minded ones

in fact, he knows that you being so fiercely supportive in that arena is what’s gotten a lot of the members to trust you and get along with you quickly

on a general level, it means that they all know how kind and loving you are because of your passion for human rights, so they can feel comfortable being their honest selves

but yoongi knows on a deeper level that some members have gone up to you with questions about their sexuality

just like treating namjoon like an english encyclopedia, they treat you like a doctor who can diagnose any sexual orientation

you won’t tell yoongi any specifics, since it’s not your secret to tell, and he respects you for that, but he 100% noticed that jimin has gotten a million times more touchy and more cheery in his day to day life, and that hoseok now wears a lot more pink, purple and blue

Hoseok

hoseok feels a little stupid sometimes, especially when he listens to you preparing your speeches and he only understands about half of the words you used, or when you give him statistics that blow his mind

and so for a while you sort of pull back around him, worried that he is a little alienated by it

but the one night you wake up beside him because of a strange glow in the bedroom, only to see him glued to his phone with headphones in, watching one of the seminars you gave about a month ago on the effects of climate change in third world countries

you gently take the phone away, giving him a fright in the process, and tell him to just go to sleep, that you’ll explain the gist of it in the morning

from that point on, it never fails to warm your heart watching an earnest hobi do his absolute best to understand the PhD-level chemistry and economics concepts that you talk about in your lectures

he’s a very busy man, so for the most part he has to get you to tell him about them later, but one day when you’re teaching a foundation-level chemistry class you see him in the back row in a bucket hat and a face mask

when you ask him about it, he just tells you he’s trying to understand better because he doesn’t feel like he can keep up

he’s been known to brag to the other members about his smart girlfriend using completely incorrect facts that he thought he had remembered from one of your talks

there’s also a nearly twenty minute compilation on YouTube of all the times Hoseok brings you up out of nowhere: on an episode of Bon Voyage, the boys only have a certain amount of money for groceries and suddenly Hobi is waxing poetic about purchasing power; in interviews when they’re asked how they relax after a long day, or what their hobbies are, he’ll immediately jump up and declare that he enjoys reading up on precipitation or combustion; quite often in Run episodes, if another member does something clever, Hobi will make sure to mention that you’re smart too

and one of the proudest moments of Hobi’s life outside of BTS is when he walks across that graduation stage of the university you teach at with a degree in Chemistry

the event is live streamed for those that can’t attend, and the platform just about crashes when eight million ARMY tune in to watch him get his degree, sending screenshots on Twitter of you tearing up happily in your closing speech and Hoseok breaking out of line to give you a big hug

Namjoon

human rights has always been an important thing for the both of you

in fact, the UN conference was where you two met

you were speaking about the horrors of human trafficking and he was with BTS talking about their campaign

he went up to you afterwards and expressed how moving your speech was, and soon enough the two of you are dating pretty seriously

the one problem for namjoon is that now he never feels like he’s doing enough

you have to constantly reassure him that being in a group and spreading his message to the world is so important, that he has the unique gift of being able to speak and have the whole world listen

but still you know he feels guilty when he comes home from a hard day of work and you’re on the computer at three in the morning wearing an embroidered blouse and pajama pants, perfectly styled hair and fuzzy bed socks, talking to high-ups in governments all over the world about what they could be doing to fight the trafficking regime

who is he to call himself an activist for making some songs and getting to perform in front of adoring fans, when you’re fighting this very real, very serious fight every day?

it takes a while for those feelings of inadequacy to go away, but when they do, he’s left with nothing but pride for the work you’re doing

the hardest moment in his life is probably when you flew out of Seoul to join four girls who had been liberated and were in witness protection

you weren’t allowed any electronics, so you couldn’t communicate with him at all, and it was almost two months before you returned

but when you did, the passion in your eyes blazed brighter than it ever had before, and you were so inspired that for nights you two would stay awake til the early hours because you couldn’t stop marveling at how brave and positive those young women were after all that they had been through

as hard as it was, namjoon had to learn to accept that this was your calling just as much as music was his, and he supported you as any good boyfriend should

Jimin

jimin kinda struggles a bit

mostly because your fight for female education quite often takes you to developing countries, often for six months at a time, and the distance is really hard on him

he loves how headstrong and passionate you are, but fuck he misses you and wishes he didn’t have to cuddle his hyungs just to sleep at night

he wants to talk about you on talk shows because he’s so proud of you, but it upsets him when he thinks about you being gone

the one plus is that it makes the time you’re back with him so much more special

for his birthday, you arrange secretly with namjoon and yoongi to come back early and surprise him

you had been doing work in ghana for just under three months when the school you were building had received an influx of funding from a mysterious donor, and the project was finished in another two weeks

jimin’s birthday at that point was a couple days away, so you gave him a call to wish him a good one and made some excuse about going out of cell service for a bit, and that you wouldn’t be able to phone again until the week after his birthday

you almost broke right then and told him the truth when he started sobbing on the phone

after yoongi confirmed that he’d booked the flights, he sent you a text saying hurry up!! jimin is getting snot on all my clothes

you feel a little guilty for lying, but you know it’ll be worth it when you arrive

namjoon’s taken jimin out of the house to ‘cheer him up’ when you arrive

you quickly hug the other five and catch up before they head back

you hide behind jin, but you can see them in the mirror in the lounge

jimin’s melancholic and depressed, but he’s trying to smile sadly at the other members, before frowning at the way they’re all hovering around suspiciously

you can’t take it any more

you jump out and run to him, calling out his name happily, and he immediately bursts into tears, clutching onto you so tightly you can’t breathe

the two of you are stuck like glue for the rest of the afternoon, and it’s not until you go to grab some more snacks from the kitchen that yoongi sneaks away too and thanks you for coming back

you remind him that it’s just because of the luck that someone decided to invest in the project when they did

he laughs awkwardly and goes ‘...yeah, about that’

turns out all six other members had pitched in to fill up the rest of the GoFundMe page, which is why the donor name you received was so weird - jeon seoyoohonatae

those fuckin idiots

Taehyung

of course taehyung supports your ‘adopt don’t shop’ mindset

of course he does

but when you can’t restrain yourself from saving every dog you find on death row at the local shelter, he realizes maybe you haven’t thought this through

every time he visits you, there’s a solid wall of at least nine dogs and more around the house and backyard

you had to get a pretty expensive permit just to let them all live on your property and the house has smelt like dog food for months

that’s not gucci

taehyung to the rescue

now, we all know tae has a penchant for liking to show off a little, and so his solution is to buy a large patch of land (conveniently, much closer to the dorm than your old place) and build a house for you with a built-in doggy day care

now the pooches have decent space and facilities, and he’s even sent out an ad for part-time workers

normally you don’t like accepting his money, but you remind yourself that it’s for the dogs, not you (it isn’t, tae is totally doing this to get in your good books) so you move houses and take all your dogs with you

for a while it’s basically a hole for tae to throw money in, but as your reputation starts to get out around the area, you have people either looking to adopt dogs from you, or let their dogs stay there instead of a kennel

after four or five months, you’re starting to make a healthy profit

tae asks you not to tell anyone that he flat-out bought and built it for you, but you don’t know why he bothers

when he spends all of his free time there training the dogs and shooting a million and one videos with them to tweet

“here’s Monkey learning how to roll over” “Scooby just stole my socks!” “kkk, Honey can run so fast with her three legs ^^”

of course, his publicity only makes the place more popular, and soon enough you get to quit your office job to be a dog rehomer full time, and you’ve never been happier

Jungkook

for the first month or so of dating, he had fondly nicknamed you ‘tree-hugger’ in his phone

like with his hyungs, he tends to show you affection with fond teasing, so you knew never to take it personally

jungkook, like some of the other members, would want to learn as much as he could about your passions

just like he studies english a lot to help namjoon, he wants to research animal cruelty so that he can be on level with you

you can guarantee that within a month of him learning about which brands were cruelty free he was educating the make-up stylists and refusing to wear certain brands

he once flat-out scolded hoseok for wearing a fur accessory on a v-live, saying how irresponsible it was

hoseok was pretty understanding (and aware of their international audience) so he took it off and apologized, but was a little put-out that jungkook felt the need to do it publicly

you have to have a talk with him that night in bed, whispering in the darkness of your bedroom, that there’s a time and place for everything, and that it would’ve been better to just talk to hoseok in private

however, jungkook most certainly Did Not learn his lesson, as the next day on twitter army are freaking out at how hot jungkook was when he got all self-righteous

he now takes every opportunity to show off how strongly he cares about animal rights, and will often shoot little videos of him washing his face with cruelty-free products and talking about how good they are, or bragging about how his birthday presents to the members were all from fair trade businesses

for a long time, for him at least, it’s about how people see him

he wants to show you he is being thoughtful, and he wants to show army that he’s a good person

but eventually genuine interest will kick in, and he’ll be a passionate activist just like you

#bts reaction #bts fic #bts scenario #bts x reader

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agoddamn · 5 years

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Just out of curiosity, let’s go through some of these personal skills and how they were localized. Cut because it got long...

不思議な魅力 / Supportive This does actually describe what the ability does, but it’s dry, which is an especially unfortunate choice for the main character. I’d go with Mysterious Charisma or something along those lines. Mystic Charm? Hell, if character length is a problem even just Charismatic has a more special feeling to it than Supportive, which is a quality you look for in a bra moreso than a main character.

ダーティファイト / Highwayman This is literally just “Dirty Fight[ing]” in katakana, so it’s not like it was confusing. I have no idea why they changed it, given that dirty fighting cleverly both describes the ability itself (it only activates when the enemy can’t attack back) and Ashura’s struggle as a character (he hates himself for being an honorless thug) so...what was gained from changing it to Highwayman, which is just a synonym for his base class?

農地の主 / Forager Descriptive, which is good! My only complaint is that the original title, Farmland Master, implies a lot of competence on her part that Forager doesn’t capture. Nature Master? Living off the Land, if we get creative?

おっちょこちょい / Mischievous Completely different term. The Japanese is Scatterbrain. The deeply confusing thing is that this completely changes the nature of her ability, instead implying that she strips people on purpose. I don’t get...why they did this...

お転婆 / Fearsome Blow Completely different term! The Japanese is Tomboy. I guess we’re not allowed to say she’s a tomboy in America. The Japanese word for tomboy supposedly comes from the Dutch ontembaar, which means spirited/indomitable/untameable. Which actually says a lot about the Japanese perception of the term “tomboy”--it’s not “boyish girl” in the sense that we imagine boyish girls, IE short-haired and pink-hating and sports-loving, but “boyish” in the sense of not being quiet and submissive. Personality over appearance. Anyway, in light of that I can understand not using the literal word tomboy in English but Fearsome Blow is just dry. Doesn’t reflect on her personality at all. Even Ferocious Blow would be better.

爆炎使い / Pyrotechnics What always confused me here is that pyrotechnics almost always refers to decorative explosions. You use pyrotechnics to describe tricks or flashy shows, not actual bombs designed to kill people, which is what Saizou is doing. It’s like saying a flamethrower and a flashlight are interchangeable because they both involve light that you point places. I don’t think 爆炎使い is an existing term; the only results on Google for it are Saizou and a Yu-Gi-Oh card. Literally, it’s something like Explosive Flame Messenger/Carrier. Probably a double meaning on Saizou carrying explosive bombs and being an explosive bomb. Hilariously, FEH completely gave up trying to translate this term (which is also his character title in that game) and just rendered it as Angry Ninja. I’d just translate it as Incendiary, trying to keep the double meaning intact.

小さな声援 / Quiet Strength This one is accurate to Sakura’s personality--which is good--but doesn’t describe the effect and misses out on the fact that all three (!) Hoshido princesses have linked personal skills. Aqua’s is Healing Voice, Hinoka’s is Rallying Cry (localization was actually dead on here), and Sakura’s is Little Cheer/Soft Cheer. They’re all voice-related. Localization lost this theme by changing Aqua’s to Healing Descant (a type of melody) and Sakura’s to Quiet Strength. At the very least, Sakura and Hinoka have reciprocal effects so the names really ought to match. They actually did this excellently with the Nohr sisters (Lily’s Poise/Rose’s Thorn) so it’s a shame the Hoshido sisters lost out.

ぼんやり / Optimist Another totally different term. The Japanese is Absent-minded/Airhead. Like, did they feel bad about calling Setsuna dumb? But still left all her supports about how dumb she is? Even more confusingly, Kisaragi’s personal skill is named almost identically. Nobody would do that on purpose. I admit that this one is tricky to name--neither Airhead nor Optimist suggest getting extra-effective healing, but at least Airhead describes her personality. She’s more implacable than optimistic. I’d try to get creative with this one and go with something like Help From My Friends if space allowed, or just fall back to Airhead/Head in the Clouds if airhead sounds too mean.

悪あがき / Triple Threat Once more, different term. The Japanese is something like wasted effort/struggling in vain. I think the implication is that you’re wasting your energy trying to melee Hinata? This is definitely a weird one. Honestly dunno that I’d have a better suggestion; Triple Threat at least gets across that it procs against three weapon types. Last Stand, perhaps.

軍略伝授 / Perspicacious This is another one of those where the game suddenly whips out obscure vocabulary for no apparent reason. When’s the last time you heard someone use perspicacious outside of an English test? The Japanese is Strategy Instructor (or something like “offering strategic advice”), which is why it buffs other units’ hit rate. I can kinda see the connection to being perceptive, but perspicacious, for all its syllables, fails to describe that Yukimura is instructing other people. Strategize would have done the job perfectly well.

勝利への執念 / In Extremis The Japanese is something like “victory through persistence”. This is a case where I actually like how it communicates the ability--it activates under extreme circumstances, when she’s on the edge--but I question the terminology. Latin is a pretty specific choice in language. What about the soft butch French rebel artist says “yeah, Latin is the right choice here”?

風の血 / Wind Disciple Another case of losing the theme. Fuuga, Flora, and Rinka, as the scions of their elemental tribes, all have abilities that go [element] Blood, implying they’re the distant descendants of their founding dragons. They got it with Rinka and Flora, but for some reason fucked up Fuuga.

美しき王 / Peacebringer Japanese is Beautiful King, hahaha. I actually like that the English gets the meaning of the ability--and his role in the story--across, but the Japanese implication that Izana is so beautiful that everyone around him forgets how to fight is really goddamn funny.

怪力 / Puissance The one I’ve been complaining about the most! Why French? Why this word? The Japanese is a pretty simple “super strength”. I totally understand the urge to jazz it up, but this just seems like the worst way to do it. It’s not an easily recognizable term and the diction doesn’t match her character at all, localized OR original. I like the idea of rendering it as Atlas to emphasize her role as Elise’s pillar plus a sly reference to the Charles Atlas strongman stuff, but you could go a million different ways here. Just...not puissance.

奇襲任務 / Opportunist Man, I’m so used to Ambush Duty that I had to look up who Opportunist was actually attached to...which I think says a lot about its success as a character descriptor. Opportunist technically jives with the ‘surprise attack’ part of the Japanese, but not remotely Belka’s personality. The ‘duty’ bit is important here because that’s Belka’s role, she does what she’s told. She’s mechanical. Camilla even likens her to a broken doll. Opportunist generally implies more agency, someone actively taking chances.

青の踊り / Fancy Footwork Azure Dance. I guess Indigo Dance would flow better with Awakening’s localization. I like the dance nod but it’s a shame to miss out on the color wink.

冷血 / Pragmatic Cold-blooded. In this case I understand why it was changed--”cold-blooded” is too close to Flora’s “Ice Blood” (though that didn’t stop them giving Setsuna and Kisaragi literally the same ability?)--and the meaning is mostly intact (pragmatic can just mean simple and efficient, but cold-blooded means cruel). Leon has a couple of other ice-themed symbols in the game, though--his personal weapon, Leon’s Icy Blade, and general references to being cold and heartless. It’s also an ironic contrast to his tome, a tree of life. Cold-blooded fit really well with all that and Pragmatic doesn’t.

ひろい食い / Goody Basket sdfkfghdf the Japanese for this one is like...indiscriminate appetite/open-minded eater/someone who eats stuff they picked up on the floor. Which is why she’s regaining HP, Velour’s just eating random shit she finds. Goody Basket doesn’t remotely capture how funny this is. I’d have called it Five-Second Rule.

乙女心の躍動 / Bibliophile Bibliophile does hint at the effect, but...just looking at a list I honestly thought this was Eponine’s. She’s the one explicitly described as the story-lover. The Japanese is something like Liveliness of a Maiden’s Heart--so it’s Ophelia’s own earnest, girly version of Odin’s Aching Blood. It’s admittedly hard not to have Something Blood on a female character sound kind of lewd or a euphemism for masturbation. What about Pounding Heart?

臆病 / Guarded Bravery Just the opposite meaning here, the Japanese is Timid. Were they afraid of making him look bad?

だまし討ち / Fierce Counter Foul Play! The one that started all this. To copy-paste, the implication is that either male enemies underestimate Foleo’s ferocity because of his feminine appearance or that Foleo is the type of guy who has no compunctions about kicking another guy in the balls (he IS his father’s son), take your pick. Fierce Counter is dry and doesn’t indicate the proc (male enemies) at all.

#fire emblem fates #support comparisons #bootsmeta #if you click read more you consent to a nitpicking-level discussion but it be like that with writing

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bifuriouswaterbender · 6 years

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A Sense of Identity--Yukonic Fanfic

Read on AO3 here. This was inspired by the motto “If no one else will write fanfic for your ship, write it yourself.”

Fandom: Deadpool (2 technically)

Characters: Negasonic Teenage Warhead, Yukio, Colossus (briefly), Deadpool (mentioned)

Pairing: Negasonic/Yukio

Rating: G

Summary: Negasonic reflects on her own name as she deals with the gay panic of a teenager lesbian facing her first major crush.

She had never liked her name.

Ellie was so plain, so simple. It was a common name that had never really fit her. Now if her parents had been forward-thinking enough to name her Elliot, she may have felt differently. But Eleanor had never suited her, and Ellie barely worked. But it was the only name she had.

The first time she accidentally exploded into a ball of fire had been terrifying for everyone around her. For Ellie, it was a relief.

She loved her parents, but they’d never really understood what made her tick as a regular human. As a mutant? They were happy to send her off to a fancy school where she could harness her powers and maybe learn some manners.

She hadn’t exactly gained the manners, but Negasonic Teenage Warhead was a miracle of a name. When she was struggling to come up with something that felt like enough, one of the older kids had suggested listening to old songs. Some of the coolest names came from the lyrics. Taking their word for it, Ellie had flipped through old records, pausing when she saw a song title she liked. Negasonic Teenage Warhead had frozen her, an exciting sense of cold running down her center to cut the heat she always knew was there. It was over the top, strong, and just anarchistic enough to feel like an identifier. Once she listened to the record, she decided the song itself was fine. But the name couldn’t be beat.

Most of the other kids found her name to be too much of a mouthful, and she became Negasonic to most of them. Occasionally someone dug up the name Ellie Phimister. It wasn’t exactly a secret, but Negasonic did everything in her power not to answer to it and to get people to stop using it.

Most of the time it worked. Even when she wasn’t actively using her powers for anything, just channeling them was enough to intimidate most people. She infrequently got asked what she would do about her name once she wasn’t a teenager anymore.

She would shoot whoever asked a scorching look complete with one raised eyebrow and say, “The name is more than just Teenage. I think I’ve got other parts to keep.”

Secretly she liked the ring of Negasonic Warhead. It sounded even more badass in her mind than the full moniker, but twelve-year-old Ellie had been too excited by the idea of literally identifying as a teen. Until she turned nineteen, though, she could handle the middle, especially since no one ever used the full name anyway.

Except occasionally Wade, but he alternated that with so many insults and (often outdated) pop culture references that she didn’t really care.

“Negasonic,” Colossus called up the stairs. As usual, his voice carried without him actually raising his voice above typical speaking level. “Come down here. There is friend I want you to meet.”

Friend was not a typical word thrown her way. Negasonic knew Colossus had been trying to find her a nice friend ever since she’d buzzed her hair. It had been the same chin-length bob since before discovering her powers, and Negasonic had needed a change when she hit fifteen. She thought it made her look edgy. One of the more obnoxious preteens had said it made her look ready to beat someone up. She’d only somewhat threatened to beat him up for it.

Even now that she was letting it grow, Negasonic was more than happy to lean into that reputation whenever possible. She imagined this supposed friend would be easily intimidated with a scowl or two and that Negasonic could escape after a quick tour and a little awkward small talk.

She wasn’t expecting a perky pink-haired girl with gorgeous eyes to be waiting at Colossus’s side.

“Negasonic!” Colossus said enthusiastically, clamping a hand on her shoulder that was obviously oblivious to her gay panic. “This is Yukio. She will be joining X-Men.”

“Hello,” said the girl. She bounced forward--literally bounced--and stuck out her hand for Negasonic to shake. “It’s nice to meet you.”

She reacted on autopilot and shook the girl’s hand, trying not to focus on its soft warmth. “You too,” Negasonic said. Was her voice faint? Damn it! She’d gone through all this work to build a reputation, and it was all about to be undone by a single pretty girl.

“Colossus said we might have a lot in common.” Yukio’s eyes actually sparkled as she looked up at the metal man.

Negasonic looked up too, mostly to determine if he was having heat stroke from baking in his metal body all day. Aside from an affinity for nontraditional aesthetics, Negasonic couldn’t imagine what she and Princess Bubblegum had in common.

God, she needed to spend less time around Wade.

“Indeed,” Colossus said, giving Negasonic a firm thump on the back that almost sent her flying. “You two are same age, both sassy, both independent. I expect the two of you to be fast friends.”

As two pairs of eyes looked at her expectantly, Negasonic felt a bit of sweat building at the back of her neck. But gay panic or no, she couldn’t afford to be weird. If she screwed up this girl’s first day, Colossus might not forgive her. Plus, bangs that perfect and that pink couldn’t belong to a straight girl, right?

“We’ll see,” she said, trying to remain neutral outwardly. “Would you like a tour, Yukio?”

As Yukio beamed at her, Colossus gave Negasonic another affirming pat on the back. This one did force her to stumble a bit because she’d been so focused on not letting herself be blinded by the literal sunshine on Yukio’s face.

“Wonderful!” Colossus moved a couple steps down the hall. “I have paperwork to do—finalizing Yukio’s transfer to the team and figuring out her class schedule. I think she would like some of the same classes as you, Negasonic. You two have fun!”

Negasonic watched him gently thunder down the hall, her panic slowly rising toward the surface as she was left alone with the most beautiful girl she’d ever seen.

There was a twinkle in Yukio’s eye that made Negasonic wonder if the girl was onto her. Before she could process that idea, Yukio took a few bouncing steps up the stairs.

“So where do we start?” she asked, offering Negasonic a knee-weakening grin.

Negasonic swallowed hard. Time to hit the reset on her feelings because she’d never be able to function if this kept up. Pretending to become her usual moody self, Negasonic jerked her head in the direction of the grounds.

“It might rain. We would probably check out the training areas first.”

The smile Yukio sent back at her was more reserved than the ones from earlier, and Negasonic tried to pretend the smaller smile gave her a smaller reaction. Being a girl had its advantages for hiding such things.

…

As Negasonic thought back on the last hour, she wasn’t quite sure how Yukio had ended up on her bed.

They’d barely made it inside as the rain started up outside. Yukio had scrambled back toward the door with such zeal that Negasonic hadn’t been able to help running alongside her. They’d stumbled back inside laughing loud enough to prompt Colossus to stick his head out of his office. When he’d seen who it was, he simply smiled and let them be.

The downstairs hadn’t taken very long since many of the spaces were ones that they weren’t supposed to go in or had classes in progress. Negasonic was technically missing Latin, but she both hated it and was pretty sure Colossus would vouch for her. He seemed to be in that kind of mood today.

Upstairs was mostly dorms, and when Negasonic had pointed out her own bed, Yukio had collapsed onto it dramatically.

“I hope we’re roommates,” she said with a kind of dreamy earnestness that smacked Negasonic on her ass.

She sat down at the end of her bed, trying not to think about the fact that she’d never had another girl on it before. She didn’t have any female friends who did things like sit on each other’s beds to gossip. The closest she’d come was an offer to visit someone else’s bed when she’d snuck out to a local gay bar. She suspect the other woman had also lied her way in with a fake ID, but even with that suspicion, Negasonic hadn’t been able to justify to herself sleeping with someone she didn’t know, especially if that person thought she was over eighteen and named Alex instead of Ellie.

“We probably will be.” Negasonic shrugged and tried to look like she didn’t care one way or another. “They try to room people age alike. Since most of the other girls are under fourteen or at least eighteen, we’re pretty secluded. There were two other girls in the middle bracket. Both roomed with her, but neither of them talked to her much.

“Lots of guys though,” she added as an afterthought. Without meaning to, Negasonic watched for Yukio’s reaction.

There wasn’t one. Instead she leaned forward and looked expectantly back at Negasonic. “You have a really cool name.”

She didn’t know how to handle that. “Um, that’s the idea,” she said, annoyed by how easy she had been to fluster. “What about you? Is Yukio based on something?” Negasonic didn’t really know anything about Japanese culture, so she hoped it wasn’t something obvious.

“No,” the pink-haired girl replied. “It’s actually my real name.”

Negasonic furrowed her brows together. “Do you not have a name yet?”

She hadn’t when she’d first arrived, but Negasonic had still been relatively young. And Ellie had shed her name as quickly as she could.

Yukio shook her head, ponytail whipping around her face as she did so. “No, and I don’t want one.”

“But you have to have one.”

Yukio smiled, like she knew something Negasonic didn’t. “Actually I don’t. We have them for safety, but it’s not like any of us do anything to protect our identities.”

That was true. Some superheroes were ridiculous about keeping their identities secret, and while Negasonic could understand that perspective, it wasn’t true for a lot of mutants. Often their powers outed them, like hers had. Regardless the big players had their strong we shouldn’t have to hide agenda that they frequently pushed. Many mutants who could have otherwise kept their powers a secret, as she could now that she had much better control of them, readily revealed their identities. Masks weren’t exactly big around here.

It was easy for her, though. She didn’t have a secret identity because Negasonic felt much more like a name than Ellie ever had.

“Still,” Negasonic said. She didn’t know what she was trying to argue, but an argument felt like it needed to be made.

“I’m okay only have one identity,” she insisted. “Besides, my family call me Yuki anyway. Yukio is starting over in a way.”

“A new identity isn’t the same as starting over.”

Yukio simply looked at her, the playful indulgence easy to read. “No? Then why did Colossus call you Negasonic? Why do we all call him Colossus? There may be mutants who go by both readily, but for most of us, the new one is the only thing that matters.”

Maybe that’s why she’d always called Deadpool Wade. As near as she could tell, his alias was purely for professional purposes and because he thought it sounded cool. But to everyone who actually knew him, he was Wade. But despite basically dying multiple times without actually dying, Wade wasn’t a Before and After. It was weird because he literally looked nothing like he had before. (She’d seen the pictures. He was tolerable if you were into clean cut white men, which Negasonic wasn’t.) His personality hadn’t shifted at all, and he’d really just used his After as an extension of the same kind of personality and shit he’d done before. He was just more deadly because he couldn’t die.

Yukio angled her head as she studied Negasonic. In turn, Negasonic wanted to crawl under the bed.

“What’s your birth name?”

Negasonic bit her lip. That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? “I don’t actually like it,” she admitted, hoping that would be enough.

That unfortunately didn’t seem to satisfy Yukio’s curiosity. “What not?”

Shrugging in an I-don’t-care way, Negasonic stared down at her bedspread. “I guess it never really fit.”

Yukio didn’t respond. The silence filled the space between them before expanding into the room as a whole. It left Negasonic ready to suffocate, and she couldn’t stop herself from willingly sharing her name for the first since taking on her superhero identity.

“I’m Ellie.”

“That’s a nice name,” Yukio said, “but you’re right. It doesn’t really fit you.”

Negasonic swallowed, glancing back up at Yukio. The seriousness she found on the other girl’s face transfixed her. They stared not uncomfortably at each other for longer than Negasonic cared to admit.

“What about El?” Yukio asked suddenly.

“It’s a nice letter,” Negasonic responded, not understanding where she was going with this.

As Yukio shook her head again, Negasonic let her eyes track the pink swinging hair again.

“Not the letter L. El as a shorthand for your name. It suits you.”

Negasonic paused as she thought about it. It felt less childish than Ellie and less girly too. “I like it,” she said. Without meaning to, she added, “I like you.”

Instantly Negasonic froze, ready to bolt form her own room of embarrassment. Yukio, to her credit, just grinned with all that sunshine Negasonic had noticed earlier.

“I like you too.”

#deadpool #deadpool 2 #negasonic teenage warhead #yukio #yukonic #negasonic #fanfic #fanficiton #mine #my writing

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cardshcrp · 5 years

Text

WIZARDING VERSE.

SUMMARY

Also known as the verse where Jean-Luc LeBeau went hey, you know what though? My kid is all grown up. I'm adopting this one. I don't care if it's a Veela. You know what would be really funny too? I'm going to make this kid my heir to piss off all the other purebloods and probably send them to magic school too. What are they gonna do, question me? I'm rich. Or, the story of how Remy LeBeau tries very hard to get through wizarding school and has to dye his hair every three days, tries not to burst into flames, and is a little tired of having to wear a Beauxbatons uniform even on exchange to Hogwarts, as it involves a cravat and he can be summed up effectively as a French blueberry.

TIMELINE

Jean-Luc LeBeau visits a Veela community in Hungary, offering a trade deal for Veela-made trinkets to be sold in his establishment in order to provide the village a way to rebuild after damages sustained in the war. He does this through a member of the community he had adventured with in his younger years and who in good standing vouched for him; the deal is accepted and contract-writing begins in earnest.

A few months into the agreement and on one of his visits, Jean-Luc witnesses his old friend’s daughter have an illegitimate child and attempt to pass it off to her mother, refusing to take responsibility for it. Adelaide is uncertain, and Jean-Luc offers a compromise, promising to take the child and raise it as his own, as his only son is now an adult and he has plenty of time and resources. Eventually the family agrees, and Jean-Luc takes the child back to France with him, calling in several favors with the Ministry in order to register the baby Athalie as an orphaned Muggle-born witch and adopt her* as his own, also placing a falsified Trace that will not react to any Veela-specific magical use.

Jean-Luc promptly learns that Veela babies are rather volatile, and is forced to come up with many, many excuses as to why he is repairing numerous singed portions of his home, but dotes on his new daughter anyway.

At around the age of seven, the first signs of dysphoria and distress begin to emerge, and while Jean-Luc and Henri have no prior experience with these matters they encourage Remy to express himself as he pleases. Ministry records are altered again to reflect that he is male.

At age eleven, Remy enters Beauxbatons as a first-year student, as per his request. He makes the clear decision to remain in the wizarding world rather than return to a Veela community and in fact decides that he will take over the family business later, much to Jean-Luc’s delight, and is named heir to the LeBeau house. Having developed a complex routine to perform nonverbal magic but disguise it as best as possible by simply speaking spells in class and wearing a glamour to color his hair, Remy is able to start passing as a mediocre wizard. He keeps a cat named Oliver, who suffers the tragic fate of always wearing a very large bow round his neck.

In his third year, Remy becomes a Chaser for the Beauxbatons Quidditch team. He also hits puberty, resulting in natural Veela charm emerging and leading to more than a few awkward confessions from his classmates and silently confused male students.

At fifth year, Jean-Luc requests (and is granted) permission to allow Remy to study as an exchange at Hogwarts under premise of wanting him to be comfortable internationally with other wizards, as he will be running an international business. The length of his stay will vary according to interaction, but the default is set to one academic year.

Remy eventually scrapes by as a mediocre wizard with a specialty in potions and an odd proficiency for fire magic. After his graduation he takes over as proprietor of LeBeau’s Curiosities, with his older brother Henri taking care of finances and his father often running the shop while he travels seeking new inventory. His overall reputation is that he is very attractive, a bit odd, but pleasant, and while a few people may have their suspicions, they don’t attempt to pursue them.

* Remy is referred to as female and birth name here as he is an actual baby and has not grown to an age where he can express his identity, and so this is what his father called him prior to that point, obviously.

ASIDES

Can be set in a few different time periods for convenience, but typically hovers at the end of the First Wizarding War, meaning Remy’s birth was ~1971.

The LeBeau family is, more or less, essentially French pureblood royalty in the wizarding world, having emigrated from Ethiopia about three centuries prior and in excellent community standing. This means that a - Remy’s adoption was an absolutely massive scandal, particularly because Jean-Luc claimed he was Muggle-born, and b - he is unfortunately quite used to attempts at matchmaking as the attractive heir to a very wealthy home. Part of the reason he decided to go to Hogwarts for a bit was to avoid the Boudreauxs’ pushing for an arranged marriage.

As a Veela, he has a few more struggles and a few less worries than your average wizard. For instance, most magical creatures will not attack him - he is perceived as very pretty and generally harmless to most of them. (Though by contrast some may wish to keep him, which can be equally problematic.) He also has an affinity for fire magic, and an unconscious charm that makes him rather appealing to most people. His dance and song, were he to exercise them, would be literally enchanting, so he doesn’t. He also has a very quick temper that he isn’t able to express without outing himself as a magical creature, and thus struggles to keep it in check, meaning sometimes he just storms off without explanation. He also tends to be excessively snarky because of this, as he’s generally on edge to at least some degree.

According to canon lore, Veela are predominantly biological female. One possible reason that they are so seductive to (particularly AMAB people of) other species may be due to this imbalance, which might have simply been the result of evolution through the years. Since they are already known to be compatible sexually with humans, it’s also reasonable to assume that they’re compatible sexually with most humanoids, possibly as an innate method of species preservation, whether or not it is exercised.

His hair grows quite quickly and dye doesn’t last long in it at all, but is more practical than expending energy on glamours constantly, so after his first year he simply learned to cut and dye his hair every few days. If he forgets to, silver-blonde roots may be visible and lead to questioning.

In order to have a passable wand at all, the family had to commission one made with Remy’s own hair as the core. (Ollivander would be horrified.) As a result he is somewhat able to channel through it, which helps him scrape by in spellcasting courses, but the scope of his natural abilities does not change and his affinities lie mainly in pyromanipulation and magic to do with appearance, though he is capable of other minor feats such as extremely basic telekinesis and some divination.

Remy has found that Muggle medical science does not appear to work on his physiology, and that any gender reassignment in magical terms is beyond his capability and his family’s, so it should be noted that he has not changed in body whatsoever and so just binds his chest and expresses as male, with glamours to reflect facial hair and the like later in his life.

LeBeau’s is a traveling magic shop that appears in set locations all over the globe without a set schedule (because Jean-Luc is petty and likes watching snooty aristocrats trip over themselves to buy the fancy things before he disappears again). It is known for having a knack at recovering lost family treasures, and does offer less powerful and pricey trinkets for more casual browsers, much to some patrons’ dismay. Locations include: Diagon Alley, a Moroccan market, the New Orleans vodun community, Hogsmeade, Paris, Cairo, and a few more.

Triwizard plotting is also available, with Remy either as a competitor or accompanying hopeful.

tagging @prctettcre since this is your fault; i feel like @noxtm may have asked me about a verse at some point and my sad, tired butt didn’t get around to it. and @deviltoothed ’cause i tag you in everything.

#AU INFO.#♣ AU — WIZARDING.

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darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts · 6 years

Text

A Different Time pt5

Warning: Scientific nerdy Ninja

Masterlist

---

Chapter 5 - Taking the Field

As we ate in a local tea house I found I couldn’t shake Yukimura’s parting words from my mind. Each time I tried, I noticed something about her that brought them right back up again like an oil slick on water.

“…So, what do you think?” [Name]’s voice broke my reverie.

“Mmhmm?” Did I miss something? Of course, you missed something Sasuke you weren’t even listening.

“You weren’t listening, were you? You might want to watch that someone might try taking advantage of you.” As she smiled at me I had the notion that I have never felt so easy to read in my life.

“I’m sorry I was just thinking about how long it would take for help to arrive.” I was lying. Whilst that had of course been a minor part in my mind the rest seemed to be filled with thoughts of [Name].

“I was saying I might need to do a bit of training before the storming of the keep.” She repeated her words as she ate the last of her rice.

“Very Tolkienesque.” I replied as I took a drink. The tea was hotter than I thought but I forced it down all the same.

“Hehe thank you. So how about you?” She asked picking up her own cup.

“Well I am nowhere near your level in the ninja arts. I do feel I would need to train a lot before I could even think about training with someone close to your ability.” I wasn’t lying. I had only really been in this era for a little short of four years. I had trained every day until I was told I was proficient enough to not get myself killed and then sent out for on the job experience. I pushed hard to gain more knowledge and skill but compared to a seasoned professional there was no way I was close to them. Although I had pride in my speed… but I suspect that is something to do with being a nerd and having to run fast as a matter of survival.

“You seriously just called it “ninja arts”. What kind of nerd are you?” [Name] smiled from behind her cup looking at me with sparkling eyes. Tiny lines crinkling the corners of them from her smile.

“The not dead kind.” I deadpanned.

“HAHA well I’ll concede and give you that one. Personally, I always found learning easier with a hands-on approach to education. If you like to join me I won’t judge you, you’re not a bad as you think you are.”

Error: Sasuke operating system failure. She not only complimented me but the possible connotations of the ‘hands on approach to education’ alongside the thoughts I was already having after Yukimura’s parting was doing nothing to alleviate my rapidly increasing body temperature or accelerated heart rate. I wonder if I ate a bad bit of fish. Although I would have to admit that now my overactive imagination and basic laws of attraction have a much higher likely hood of being the culprit in this case.

---

After paying the bill we left the teahouse and returned to her camp in the trees. I looked around out of habit and realised that if you had not been aware of its existence you might not have been able to find the camp site in the first place. Nothing looked anything other than natural, [Name] had even covered her firepit with vegetation from the surrounding area.

The sun had dipped lower in the sky by the time I noticed it. We had gone through our drills for timing, balance and attack. Our make shift targets were full of holes from our Kunai and Shuriken. It was when I was timing my climbing and practicing swinging my weight from branch to branch that it happened.

[Name] had excused herself to go fetch some fresh water and when she returned I noticed she was soaking wet. Her skin glistened and her hair was a darker shade dripping at its ends. Her kimono was clinging to her figure swaying as she walked in to the clearing. I could feel my hands start to get clammy and before I knew it I had slipped from my grip and fallen backwards, I shifted my feet and somehow managed to gain a purchase strong enough to keep me from falling further, this did however leave me hanging upside down in a less than dignified position. Oh, please God no… please say she didn’t see that. While I was calculating my odds at having successfully managing to avoid the fall I nearly jumped after I adjusted my glasses and realised I was nearly nose to nose with [Name].

“Well hello there Sasuke bat.” She laughed and as her face lit up I felt something inside me pulling me forward. It was illogical and unscientific. It was a feeling that seemed to come from no where and emulated all those anime, manga, comics and films I had seen. Her eyes were sparkling and when she stopped laughing all that was left was a rich warm smile on her face. Leaning forward with one hand on her cheek, I felt the softness of her lips on mine. The gentle heat of her flowing into my body. I’m kissing her, aren’t I? Pulling back, I steadied my breathing.

“That was no where near as easy or romantic as I had hoped.” My words made her smile even more.

“These things never are. I got water so we should probably have a drink and head back. Need help getting down?” [Name] inclined her upper body and tilted her head so she was looking at me upside down.

“It’s ok I can get down.” After I said this I pulled myself up bending in my centre and gripped the branch with my hands before dropping silently to the ground the correct way up.

---

We had a drink then she changed into some dry clothes before we returned to the Inn as it was getting dark. I managed to convince the owner that [Name] was only a friend and a respectable traveller avoiding for the most part a lot of unnecessary gossiping and the very possible out come of being thrown out of the establishment for ‘bringing it into disrepute’.

[Name] was given Yukimura’s room that was next to mine which allowed us to eat our evening meal together and talk without disturbing the rest of the household. It was strange and comforting to be alone like this but I was aware that my hands were still clammy and my heart was still racing. She had not mentioned anything further after my improvised movie hero moment and I was curious. Did she like it? Did I cross a line? How does she feel about me? I was more than aware I should have ascertained those answers before I had done anything like that at all.

“So… about earlier.” She spoke quietly. Suppressing an internal cringe that threatened to take over my body as the whirlpool of emotions ranging from guilt to panic surged forward. This feels like high school prom all over again. Asking a girl out took a lot more courage than the other guys in the class had made it look like it did. And that was only half the battle.

“I’m Sorry” “I liked it.” Our Voices over lapped and I looked at her in bewilderment as what she just said sunk in. Huh?

“There isn’t any need for you to apologise Sasuke. I didn’t hate it or you. You are a good guy.” [Name] averted her eyes a soft faltering smile gracing her face.

“I have a feeling that there is a Dear John coming.” I muttered half under my breath and in the quite room it seemed nearly as loud as it would have been had I yelled it from a rooftop. Her face contorted and looked like she was recoiling from an invisible hand slapping her across her face. The emotions I felt earlier pooled heavy in my chest making it difficult to breath but seeing her struggling in front of me I tried my best to ignore it and place a strained smile on my face. It was difficult I knew I couldn’t smile properly and I hoped I had made a passable one for her sake.

“It’s… It’s not really a ‘Dear John’.” She raised her face to meet my gaze and the soft brown pools reflected me completely. She wasn’t looking at anything but me in that moment I felt like the single most lucky guy in all the world but also completely aware that that world was about to hand me something that would change it forever. “I’m not someone that has ever be comfortable with a one night… thing. I have no idea what will happen in the near future and I…”

“It’s ok I don’t like them either.” I somehow managed to keep my voice level even with my body feeling like it was about to fall apart. She seemed to sense how I felt and gave a pained smile as she reached to take my hand. I nearly pulled it back but part of me wished to touch her and be close to her in any way it could. My own personal torture.

“I like you Sasuke please believe me when I say that. But I don’t think it would be fair to you to be with someone like me.” She appealed in earnest.

“Someone like you?” I repeated her statement as a question she nodded.

“While I cannot deny that I am certainly attracted to you I think ultimately you would be happier with another. I’m truly sorry.” [Name] bowed before me. Was she right? I have no desire to push myself on someone who is not interested. By her own admission she is and yet she has also declined the chance to take the field. The only gentlemanly thing to do would be to back off.

“It’s ok. I like you too. I guess I already managed to make that painfully obvious.” I shrugged trying to relieve some of the awkwardness of the situation. “I will not press the matter further.”

“Sasuke…” [Name]’s voice trembled. I stood from my position from where we had been eating moving to the sliding doors.

“Good Night [Name]” I bowed low enough for me not to have to see her face. I could hear from her breathing that she was on the verge of tears and like a coward fleeing I left her room entering my own at a brisk pace and once my doors firmly closed I slid down the wall and allowed myself the painful release of that trapped whirlpool inside.

---

Time passed in the solitude of moonlight, along with several bottles of sake. I had seen how the great men around me had self-medicated to deal with the phantoms they wrestled with at night. I was not arrogant enough to think myself a great man but I could not deny that I saw the emotional benefit in seeking out such a thing even if I knew it to be scientifically impossible that alcohol could erase how I felt.

It was around the end of the third bottle of strong sake that I felt myself become woozy and my mind became clearer for a brief moment. I didn’t feel the pain of a love unrequited. I didn’t feel the hurt of rejection. I found an agreeable clarity. It wasn’t that they didn’t like me, we might not become anything more than what we are right now but was that really such a terrible thing? I slipped into slumber at peace.

---

It was raining. It started off light and quickly became a torrential down pour. I was standing in front of the stone monument at Honno-ji. The air was electric and there she was. That girl I saw that night of the time slip looking up at the sky before turning her eyes to mine. I remembered. I remembered every detail of her face as if it was imprinted on my mind. Why would I see her right now at a time like this?

The Lighting cracked loud as I remembered and rent the stone in two in front of us.

“Be careful, Miss –” I held out my hand towards her, the look of confusion on her face. The world around me twisted as it turned into the warped distorted lines of the wormhole and everything was lost.

---

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selenelavellan · 6 years

Text

HWRC Redux AU

Previous Installments

Dirthamen, Deceit, and Fear are @feynites

Who’s up for some good ol’ fashioned Dirthalene pining, hm?

(warning for some very mild nsfw at the end)

It's a learning curve.

Selene spends weeks pouring through Dirthamen's libraries, carrying stacks into her rooms and staying up far too late reading through them. Some nights he'll crawl in and sleep beside her, or Deceit will stretch out with their head in her lap or Fear will perch somewhere in the room and pretend to not be watching her. Sometimes Des will come and steal them away, often at her request if she's feeling too...claustrophobic.

It takes some doing for her to find her balance again, between grading papers and making lesson plans and sometimes she'll borrow whoever is free to help her prep crafts for the children in her class back in Thedas. It's certainly a strange feeling, to see the God of Secrets filling paper stars with confetti for goodie bags.

She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her when the glue fell open on Fear during paper mache practice. Really. Talons just weren't made for that sort of activity.

And the glue turned out to be even harder to wash out of their feathered hair, afterwards.

It's not until nearly a month into their tentative cohabitation that things start to feel strange to her again.

“My lady!” One of the sentinels calls.

It takes a moment for Selene to realize they are addressing her.

“Oh. Uh,” She flounders “You don't have to call me that. Selene is fine, really.”

“Of course, my lady Selene,” They say with a deep bow, and she has to bite back the impulse to roll her eyes. “Your Lord Husband is requesting your presence in his office.”

Selene's heart skips in her chest.

Her 'Lord husband.'

Her husband.

A strangely intimate term for the god who tricked her into their bond.

“Right,” She acknowledges all the same, pushing down on the strange twisting feeling in her stomach. “Thank you.”

“I'll make sure she gets there,” Des interrupts as he comes around the corner. “Thanks babe.”

The sentinel turns and bows again, face flushing slightly. “Of course, Lord Des. Thank you for your generosity.”

“That's me,” Des preens, slinging an arm over Selenes shoulders with a wink. “Lord Des the generous.”

Selene snorts while the sentinel takes their leave .

“I can't believe you.”

“What?” Des says, feigning an innocence he's never possessed.

“'Lord' Des. Really?”

“Oh yeah,” He grins. “I'm affiliated with you, and since you married the God-in-charge, I get a ridiculously good ranking. Technically I'm a 'consort', but hey, no complaints on my end.”

“And you like the title?”

“Are you kidding?” He says with a shimmy that makes his too-tight shirt ride up on him. “I'm thinking about learning how to write elvhen just so that I can turn it into my tramp stamp.”

Selene shakes her head with a sigh. “You're much more suited to this than I am.”

“Yeah, well; I didn't accept a ring from a magic bird.”

With a soft hum of affirmation, she pats his forearm and makes her own way towards Dirthamens office.

Her husbands office.

Something in her warms as the word passes through her mind, but she doesn't dare linger on it. Emotions are too easily read here, and if word got out that she might...that she might have real genuine feelings for a God, well...

She can't think of a single story where that ever ended alright for the mortal.

The sentries posted outside of Dirthamen's office open the doors for her when they see her approaching, and she has to bite down on the inside of her cheek to keep from thanking them aloud; the last time she had done so, they had ended up in a nearly thirty minute loop of apologies and gratitudes and platitudes that only Deceit had managed to finally put an end to. Apparently manners only matter for people above your rank and the only person above her rank here, is Dirthamen.

“Hello,” She greets with a small, awkward wave. “You called for me?”

“Yes,” Dirthamen answers, motioning her to move beside him. “I was hoping for your input on the garden renovation.”

“I'm sure whatever you have planned is fine,” She says, even as she moves to look over his shoulder at the papers currently laid over his desk. “I'm not even familiar with most of your flora.”

“Are there any particular features you would like it to possess?” He asks anyways. “All of my resources are available to you.”

Selene pushes down on the flush trying to rise in her face at the way he glances up at her when he says it. He's wearing a mask dammit, she can't even see most of his face. Just the way the blue of his eyes reflect the light, looking up at her all earnest, and love filled, and...

Damn it all.

“A strawberry patch would be nice,” She relents. “I used to like growing them when I was younger, but the type I'm used to didn't grow well in the heat of the city.”

He nods, and she glances down at him as he scribbles something into one of the empty boxes (magical elvhen translation can't stand up to bad penmanship it seems, or maybe he's just writing in a code) and notices a familiar pale yellow color sticking out from the sleeves of his robe.

She blinks once.

Twice.

Her hands reach out to part his robe before she can think twice and-yes.

Yes, her shape-shifting god husband is wearing her yellow sunflower sweater underneath his magical official god robes.

“That's my sweater,” She says, as though perhaps, maybe, he might not have known. Might not have noticed her wearing it the day before.

“Yes.” is all he says though.

Selene nods, because really what else can she do?

“It suits you,” She blurts out, watching as the patches of skin exposed by the stretched out neckline flush and gleam with color at her compliment, the sight making her stomach do flips in a way she'd very much like for it to stop doing dammit.

“Thank you,” He says. “I hope you do not mind. You left it at the foot of our bed,” (Our bed, she repeats internally while her stomach does another flip and her heart starts pounding) “And I was quite distracted by the pleasant smell of your bodywash that lingered on it. Wearing it seemed more conducive to making it out of the bedroom.”

Selene swallows and nods again, trying very hard not to think about him curled up in bed (their bed, some traitorous part of herself helpfully supplies) with her sweater pressed up against them and finding other ways to spend their day than doing paperwork to renovate an already exquisite garden. Maybe he's having similar difficulties to her own; mind distracted by thoughts of wife, and romance and touch and-

No.

No, no, she's not-she's not letting her mind wander there, not now, not here.

Gods forbid she lights his desk or some irreplaceable text on fire and then has to explain why it happened.

Nope.

“That's fine,” She finally manages, carefully closing his robes again so she can stop staring at him wearing her sweater and very little else under his robe. “Not a problem at all.”

“Thank you,” He repeats, seemingly utterly clueless about her current internal struggle. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“What?” She says, voice cracking slightly as her mind shoots to inappropriate places and activities and her sweater and their bed and his body-

“For the gardens,” He clarifies. “Is there anything else you would like besides the strawberries?”

“Uh,” Selene struggles to find a clear, cohesive thought, tongue trailing absently over her lips. “Water? Like a fountain or...Some sort of body of water? Cold water. Cold water would be great, really.”

“Would a stream suffice?”

“So long as I can drown in it,” She mutters to herself, mentally willing her body to chill the hell out before more loudly announcing “Yes, a stream would be perfect. Thank you.”

“It is no trouble,” He assures her, writing another note onto the paper before him.

Selene takes her leave after that, making up a quick lie about promising to meet with Des about something, and running off to her (their, her mind reminds her, flashes of Dirthamen nude and dripping and gleaming rising up and quickening her steps) baths to try and cool off before she can ignite some important ancient relic or something.

She slides into the tub, goosebumps rising over her skin as she sinks into the cold of the water. Her hair spreads out around her shoulders as she rests her head against the edge of the tub and tries to clear her mind.

It doesn't work.

The temperature of the water rises as her mind fills with more thoughts of Dirthamen, sprawled out on their bed in nothing but the soft cotton of her sunflower sweater while his cheeks flush the way his neck had, of Deceit behind her with gentle caresses, soft whispers in her ear of ancient secrets and promises of eternity, of Fear prone and open and trusting, and all of them together with bodies writhing beneath her hands, her mouth, her...

fuck.

Her body relaxes as she lets herself fall away from her orgasm, the water steaming around her while she tries to catch her breath. Her cunt clenching around nothing as her fingers slide away, and she tries to convince herself she didn't just do what she definitely just did, mind running words on repeat that do nothing to calm her down.

Husbands.

Partners.

Vhenans.

Selene drags her clean hand down her face and lets out a soft curse.

She is in way over her head here.

And she doesn't, entirely, hate it.

#hwrc redux au #dirthalene #selene lavellan #des #gotta love the classics #wanted to do some good pining fluff #hopefully this suffices

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sl-walker · 6 years

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Ship Manifesto: Bail x Maul

I threatened it, so here it is. Since I have to go to work and I actually got some sleep last night.

When I went and remixed Wild Space for Witness me, I suspected that those two would hit it off, just based on their personalities. And while ten years of being a prisoner definitely took the sharp edges off of Maul and five years of being with Obi-Wan had taught him some (badly needed) interpersonal skills, more than he became even in canon TCW he’s still as inherently himself as he was when he went to Theed. Just-- a somewhat healthier self, hard as that might sometimes be to believe when he’s in the middle of a flashback and actually displaying his damage.

BUT ANYWAY. My guys. My ridiculously opposite, beautiful guys. Their first meeting had them both grinning and within two seconds bantering and within like five minutes, evoking solidarity against Obi-Wan’s bullheadedness, and then it just kept getting better.

Since this is a ship manifesto -- as in romantic ship -- I won’t spend too much time on their bromance, but I will say that whether or not you add the kissing and such, both versions of that relationship are fiercely mutual. And now, for the why:

Bail Organa in Canon/Legends: Genuine good guy. In a Republic rife with corruption, Bail not only manages to navigate it effectively, gaining the esteem even of some of his enemies, but he never lets go of his morals. He’s willing to play fast and loose with the rules, but every single time he does, it’s with his heart firmly in the right place. Any selfishness Bail has tends to manifest itself in wistfulness, not action; he wants to go home, he wants to be with Breha, he wants to not deal with all this, he wants the children they were going to have. Nonetheless, he stays on Coruscant. Faithfully serving his post, his Queen, his world, his Republic.

He’s an idealist. And an optimist. He has a draw to support the underdog. He has sharp edges because he’s also realistic. He rights wrongs when he can, using his cleverness and political acumen; he can read a crowd and often win them over to at least liking him, even when they don’t agree with him. He’s disarming and people admire him for his stand-up guy nature. He’s also brave; he’s willing to put himself under siege on Christophsis, and when everything else in the world is crumbling, the Jedi are being slaughtered, he was the only one with the courage to go and try to see what was happening at the Temple, then turn around and try to save what Jedi he could personally. He’ll pick up a blaster and follow Padmé into the streets. He’ll demand to go to Zigoola, citing his right to put skin in the game as the reason to. He’s incredibly loyal.

He’s not perfect. He leans a bit more on the booze than healthy. He’s got serious problems with his work/life balance; he works far too hard because Bail thinks -- unfortunately rightly, often -- that if he just lets it go, no one else will care enough or gain enough to do the work. Bail’s service-mindedness goes well beyond healthy; it’s painfully easy for him to get into the idea that he has to fix things, especially for people he cares for, and he’ll throw himself against the wall of that and beat himself bloody if he can’t. And while this genuine love and esteem can be a good trait, it also can become self-destructive. He can get snappish and churlish, but usually only when he’s provoked into it (hello Obi-Wan); still, once you do get his blood up, Bail can dish it out as well as he can take it.

But really, Bail has no problem with positive regard. There’s no evidence that the man carries any prejudices based on species or class. He’s honorable; when he says he’s going to do something, he does his very best to do it. He believes in honesty, even if he’s willing to lie by omission; still, his heart is always in the right place, and damned if I can find a single piece of canon or Legends evidence that his heart is anything but pure gold.

Maul in canon/Legends: Undeniably abused. Badly. Consistently. Has the social skills of a rancor with a tooth ache. Psychological minefield of paranoia and can’t trust anyone or anything, sometimes not even himself, in terms of recollection/etc. If you want to know all about how bad Maul is messed up, you can go through his tag on my blog; there’s a lot there. So, let’s go into the relevant points.

He’s lonely. Painfully, desperately lonely, and he doesn’t even know how to quantify it, but it bleeds through his actions. He’s desperate for approval -- mostly his Master’s, but also Kilindi’s and Trezza’s and even the damn Jedi, if you dig far enough. Sure, he wants to kill them, but he wants to do it fairly and honorably because he doesn’t want his victory to be cheap or stolen and he wants them to know that they’re fighting an honorable foe.

He’s highly intelligent, but his ability to make proper use of it has suffered for his abuse; he struggles to grasp a lot of concepts, like creativity and philosophy. He struggles to understand politics. He struggles to understand the very galaxy; like, they literally said that, that Maul doesn’t quite get how it all works. Still, he is sharp and very adaptable and malleable, especially when he’s younger.

He understands and believes in fairness and honor, even if both of those are skewed by his upbringing. He’s agonizingly, painfully loyal, and it takes being abandoned to go mad, after finding out that Sidious might have lied to him about his future as a Sith Lord, before he even stops being loyal. But the moment Savage comes into the picture, Maul’s again loyal, this time to someone who actually deserves it; enough to abandon battle with Obi-Wan Kenobi for the sake of his brother.

He has chinks in his hard, fucked up armor. He absolutely respects a clever, honorable foe, enough to stand between them and death (Komari Vosa), or get pissed off at someone maybe killing an ally who stood with him enough to take revenge (Eogan); he tries to reassure Patch Bruit even as he’s advancing on the man with a lightsaber, in his hella awkward earnest way. He responds to offers of friendship -- Kilindi, sadly Deenine (one of his own damned abusers) -- with an almost painful need, and while he’s not given opportunity once he’s older, somewhere all that lurks, because he’s still naming droids and bikes.

There lies a wellspring of patience in him, even when he’s young, especially towards his droids (or even other peoples’ droids); his ability and willingness to teach is built somewhere with this as a brick when he’s older and teaching his brother.

He often reflects his treatment; how you treat him does inform how he would treat you. This is delicate, obviously, you can’t just walk up to him, throw arms around him and sob (though I definitely relate to the desire to), but someone good at reading people could very likely strike the right note to reach him without putting him too far on the defensive.

And Maul can perceive truthfulness. He can sense when someone’s being honest or lying, if they aren’t shielding their intentions.

Why they work: Leaving aside the logistics issue, and just focusing on their personalities--

Bail has a thing for the underdog; they don’t get much more underdog than Maul.

Maul is desperately lonely; having the honest, positive regard of anyone would be novel enough it might even short out his brain. But even if it didn’t, it would absolutely throw him off balance.

Both of them are honorable and believe in fairness. Both of them build a giant chunk of themselves around that.

Both of them are loyal, and once you have that loyalty, it takes so terribly much to break it.

Bail is innately kind. Maul absolutely responds to kindness; he wouldn’t know what to do with it, it would make him uneasy probably at first, but boy, plant that seed and he’d keep bending towards it like a plant to water.

Bail’s purity of purpose -- to serve, to do good -- would resonate with Maul, because he also does the same! He serves his master and tries desperately to gain his approval -- to do good in Sidious’s eyes.

Neither of them are cowards; both are willing to put their lives on the line for an objective. For Bail, this is usually missions of mercy; for Maul, it’s usually in service to his Master, but either way, they’re both brave and determined.

While Maul doesn’t have much chance in canon or Legends to show his sense of humor, what tiny flickers we get of it shows a dry wit. Bail would get that and play to it.

Neither of them are innately selfish. Maul’s idea of selfishness is wanting acknowledged for doing good -- and if that’s not painful to think about, he also mentally beats himself up for just wanting that -- and Bail’s is to be wistful for a less heavy burden to carry.

There are more -- obviously -- but those are more than enough drydock to build a ship in.

Just aesthetically? They’re both gorgeous, sheesh. Take the snarl away, and Maul’s absolutely his own kind of beautiful, and Bail-- well. Frankly, if you don’t think he’s hot, I don’t even know how you’re breathing, maybe you’re not, maybe we should check your pulse. (Joking. Mostly.) Bail’s a head taller and overall just big, but Maul’s definitely no wilting little violet; he’s small (or smaul), but he has muscle, agility and grace.

Scenarios it could work in canon (adjust for Queen Breha as needed, because I absolutely love her, too):

GoT:A, obviously. Heh. There, Maul gets tossed into prison at age twelve (preceding poor Boba having the same done to him), Bail sees him on a tour when Maul’s fifteen and decides, “Nope, I’m not leaving him there.” Takes him home, gives him stability and infinite patience and kindness and waits out the psychological damage manifesting itself, and does not realize that three years after that first sighting, Maul will be desperately, achingly pining for him, and in another two, will finally steel up enough to take a huge risk and kiss him.

Literally any scenario where Maul’s cut loose in some way Bail can encounter him, pre-Theed, in canon. If you throw that kid into the wind at that age, he’s so ill-prepared to deal with the galaxy that he’d eventually grab hold with drowning desperation to any kind of purpose or direction. Extra easy if Sidious is somehow dead.

Orsis gets raided.

Maul actually gets fucked up enough on some mission to land in a reputable hospital and can’t make an easy escape for whatever reason, injury or illness.

Sidious sends his apprentice before he’s ready to take a hit out on Bail and Maul flubs it somehow, thus landing himself in custody.

Post-Theed, but Maul gets captured before Lotho Minor; somehow, the Jedi don’t keep custody of him, and he ends up again imprisoned by the Republic. His plight’s so bad there that when Bail finds out that he exists and what he’s had to live like, he starts doing something about it.

Rebellion-era: man, you could mine this one like gold. Maul wants to hurt his master, Bail needs every skilled rebel he can get his hands on. They work together for years.

Radical AU scenarios:

Anything. Their chemistry is such that could make anything work with enough thought and care.

In conclusion: They have the exact kind of personalities to dovetail. Bail has the kind of decency and kindness and honor that it wouldn’t take much for Maul to want to live up to expectations for him. And Maul has his odd, guileless charm and a sweet streak that might get buried as he gets older, but that Bail would just find, dig out and nurture. Maul would be a fierce protector of Bail; Bail would be the support and steady love and patience Maul really needs to reach his best possible self. They would bring out a lot of each others’ best traits easily. Maul would lean on Bail to work less and live more; Bail would encourage Maul to take a chance on trying new things, talking to new people. They would likely have a very kind relationship with each other, and man, both of them could use all the kindness in the galaxy.

So, what are you waiting for? XD Go write some. Or I’ll just keep writing it (and begging for more).

#bail organa #maul #ship manifesto

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