#Just points to no one being special and nothing being sacred I suppose

[sysig]

One better (Patreon)

[matan4il]

Update post:

Yesterday, there were no less than two terrorist attacks against Israeli civilians, one in the morning, and one in the evening.

The first one happened in Beersheba, where the terrorist stabbed and injured two people before being neutralized. The terrorist was an Israeli Bedouin, who had been convicted of drug-related criminal charges. The prosecution asked for his arrest, but the court decided to be lenient, to aid in his rehabilitation, and instead only sentenced him to community service. He was due to start in two weeks, but instead he chose yesterday to attack innocent civilians.

The second terrorist attack took place in Gan Yavne. A Palestinian man, who used to have a work permit in Israel, but lost it and remained here illegally, carried out the attack. The Palestinian terrorist started stabbing people at a gym and then at a nearby cafe, wounding 3 people, all of them originally determined to be in serious condition, one is a teenager, the other two are reported to have life threatening head injuries. The terrorist was 19 years old, and he was neutralized at the scene. In investigating how he managed to stay inside Israel illegally after his work permit had expired, the police has arrested two people so far.

Israel has wrapped up its second operation at the Shifa hospital in Gaza City, with another soldier pronounced dead (20 years old Nada Cohen), bringing the IDF fatalities in the Gaza ground operation so far to 256, and the total number of killed Israeli soldiers in this war, including during the Hamas massacre (reminder that some of those soldiers were girls serving in non-combative posts, without combat training or even a weapon, and were slain while still in their pajamas) to 600.

The end of one operation in a Gaza hospital doesn't mean that's the end of Hamas abusing medical and humanitarian facilities, so there are and will be more such operations. That's why I'm also sharing this reminder that nothing is sacred or even just... off limits to Hamas, who moved kidnapped civilians in ambulances, as one of the released hostages testified.

I mentioned in a post expressing my frustration over foreigners' ignorance over the conflict, which doesn't stop them from acting like they know better than the people actually living it, the Hamas-Fatah "civil war," which erupted in 2007, when Hamas killed Fatah members in Gaza and took over the place. The two Palestinian factions have tried reconciliation several times over the years, but it never lasted long. Israel's war in Gaza against Hamas and its fellow terrorists organizations is not over yet, but already there's signs of that tension. This def bodes well for Palestinians if Hamas survives this war.

A city council meeting in California, which dealt with Holocaust remembrance, ended up being the scene of some despicable displays of antisemitism in its anti-Zionist form. IDK what was most distressing to hear about, the way they screamed "Lies! Lies!"' at a Holocaust survivor, or that they took and threw to the ground the phone of a Jewish man who came to speak about his grandma who had survived the Holocaust, or that they mocked a mother speaking of her child being harassed at school to the point he doesn't wanna be a Jew, because he doesn't want to be hated... Maybe that they made my friend, who attended the meeting, cry on what was supposed to be a very special day. I saw coverage on Israeli TV of the city council, which both told me how bad it was, if of all things, that's what they're talking about, and at the same time, it was nothing like hearing about it from her. So I'm glad that she shared some of her own impressions about this ugly demonstration of hatred (I'm also scheduling her post for a reblog). I just hope Jews all over the world know that we here in Israel care about you, we love you, we are standing by your side, and we wish we could do more for you. <3

Speaking of antisemitism, and an inability to recognize it as such, to call it out and condemn it, here's some recent examples from around the world. In Spain, the locals went out for an Easter drink, a tradition called, "to kill the Jews," but insisted it's not racist. Attacking and even killing Jews actually was customary in Europe on Christian holidays such as Christmas and Easter. In fact, this specific nickname is derived from those old attacks.

In London, a policeman insisted that swastikas being displayed at an anti-Israel protest were not antisemitic, and should be taken "in context," despite admitting that a symbol that's abusive or would cause public distress would fall under his jurisdiction to act against.

In the Netherlands, a single mom of a Jewish girl was attacked for the daughter's choices (she decided to move to Israel and has served in the Israeli army) both at home and at her workplace, a hospital. The mother was so rattled after the attack at her home, that she wouldn't stay there. A Jewish hotel owner offered her a free stay at his hotel. In an interview with an Israeli reporter, the mom said she's considering moving to Israel, too (source in Hebrew).

This is 32 years old Celine ben David Nagar.

She worked as an office manager at a law firm, was married to Iddo, and they had a 6 months old baby together. On Oct 7, Celine was on her way with a friend to the Nova music festival, but they never made it there. The Hamas rocket attack started first. For 10 days, she was considered missing, and it took a while, but eventually they found her body. While her fate was still unknown, two days after the massacre, Iddo went on TV and talked about the fact that Celine was still breastfeeding. Following the interview, hundreds of Israel women volunteered to donate their mother's milk to the little baby girl. At Celine's funeral, Iddo asked said goodbye to his wife, and asked hr to watch over him and little Eli from above.

May her memory be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[themattress]

After watching the video in this post, I decided to look up the script for Duel of the Fates, Colin Trevorrow and Derek Connolly’s first pass at Episode IX before Carrie Fisher’s passing rendered it unusable. While I stand by what I’ve said previously about how its ultimate message (how it’s good to be a “Gray Jedi” who uses both Light and Dark sides of the Force and thus every Jedi prior to Rey got it all wrong) pisses on Star Wars and its core philosophy of the Force and what “balance” means far more than anything J.J Abrams or Rian Johnson could ever put out, I want to bring up another flaw. See, Duel of the Fates is praised by people who loved The Last Jedi and hated The Rise of Skywalker for being a far more “natural continuation” to The Last Jedi. The question I now pose is...is it? Is it really? 

I mean, in some respects it certainly is - it maintains the harsher tone, maintains certain beats like Rey having no special heritage and Rose being a central character, and isn’t afraid to risk fucking with sacred cows of the franchise’s mythos (even if they take it too far, in a way that lends a ton of credibility to every “Rey is a Mary Sue!” argument ever made, but I digress). However, look deeper and cracks begin to show to the notion that Duel of the Fates is an organic follow-up to The Last Jedi and would have satisfied everyone who loved that movie.

Yes, Rey would have stayed just a girl from nowhere with no special heritage, and one could argue that her Gray Jedi outcome fit with her trajectory in The Last Jedi where she’s basically perfect as is and doesn’t need to learn much of anything; in fact her “teachers” end up learning from her. However, the big “reveal” scene about her parents from The Last Jedi is still retconned. In The Rise of Skywalker, the retcon is that Kylo just saw what happened - Rey’s scavenger parents selling her - and assumed there was no deeper truth to it but then learns he was wrong about that. In Duel of the Fates, the retcon is that Kylo flat-out lied. He knew that Rey’s parents didn’t sell her for drinking money and were in fact hiding her...not from an assassin sent by Palpatine, but from an assassin sent by Snoke. Him. Kylo Ren. He himself killed Rey’s parents because they hid Rey from him and later lied to her that they just abandoned her. I have no idea how this works timeline-wise given that Kylo doesn’t seem that much older than Rey, but whatever. Also, Rey’s real name is “Rey Solana”. Yes, literally just “Solo” if the last “o” got taken out and the “ana” from “Organa” got put in. Um....poetry?

Speaking of Kylo Ren, The Last Jedi positioned him as the irredeemable Big Bad now that he’s Supreme Leader of the First Order. And Duel of the Fates kind of did and did not stick with that. Yes, he’s the Big Bad all the way to being the Final Boss (for a third film in a row), but his entire plotline is completely detached from the First Order he’s supposedly the Supreme Leader of. Rather than just being treated as irredeemable, damn near every good guy in the film is constantly trying to redeem him (above all Luke’s ghost, since “See you around, kid” was taken literally here instead of figuratively). And yet at the last minute, he kind of receives redemption anyway? He loses in lightsaber combat to Rey, then beats her anyway by killing her via his lifeforce-draining ability, only for Leia to contact him through the Force and tell him “Come back to the Light”....and despite everything he’s done up to this point where he has succeeded in his goal, this is somehow enough for him to immediately give his own lifeforce to Rey, resurrecting her and killing him. He did nothing good other than backtrack on something evil he’d literally just done, so I guess he isn’t redeemed, but then why does the script describe his passing as having light in his eyes and holding Rey’s hand while looking at her with love? How are we supposed to look at this? It’s beyond confusing! You can keep Kylo unredeemed or redeem him ala The Rise of Skywalker, but not both.

Finn, and Rose certainly get it better in Duel of the Fates than they do in The Rise of Skywalker, with Finn leading a massive Stormtrooper rebellion and Rose being one of the core characters instead of an extra. But there are three problems. Rose ends up largely contributing nothing beyond further social commentary and even gets captured and tortured, which doesn’t seem like it makes her starring role worth it. Finn and Rose are a romantic couple, and as it ended up John Boyega and Kelly Marie Tran had no romantic chemistry with each other. And funnily enough, The Last Jedi did not set Finn up for his Stormtrooper rebellion arc! It could have, but for some reason the version of his battle with Phasma that had build-up for this development wasn’t used in the finished film! So that’s a big whoopsie! Poe’s arc in Duel of the Fates actively backtracks on his arc from The Last Jedi! Whereas in The Last Jedi it was positioned that his hot-headed recklessness was wrong and he had to grow as a leader by taking Leia’s example, Duel of the Fates has him in the right over Leia by pointing out “rebellion IS recklessness!” and that Leia has had her time and now she has to let Poe take charge even if she has some reservations about his gung-ho methods. Hux, meanwhile, who was positioned in The Last Jedi as scheming to betray Kylo Ren so that he can become the leader of the First Order...never does that in Duel of the Fates. He basically IS the First Order’s leader anyway since Kylo Ren is busy with his own shit, and the farthest extent his “treachery” goes is just hoping Rey and Kylo kill each other rather than take initiative himself in any way. Oh, and he’s also randomly obsessed with learning how to use the Force and collects lightsabers, one of which he commits seppuku with at the end. Yeah.

As for the other characters, there’s honestly not that much difference from what they do in The Rise of Skywalker. Luke keeps with his turnaround on how he views the Jedi and his place in the universe and assists Rey as a ghost, Leia still reaches through to her son via the Force in order to engineer his change of heart, Han is a vision that confronts his son (albeit one that fails in Duel of the Fates), Lando is reluctant to get involved but then ends up leading the cavalry in the final battle, the sidekicks are still the sidekicks and one of the droids even has their memory wiped but later restored (though it’s R2-D2 rather than C-3PO), and despite all the fan bitching there is no instrumental role played by the ghost of “Chosen One” Anakin. The only other big difference is that instead of Palpatine, a character established as a master long-term schemer with a fixation on finding a way to cheat death, returning, we have a confusing character named Tor Valum who is apparently master of ALL THE SITH which breaks the Rule of Two, hints that Darth Plagueis in his entirety was a lie, and exists as a plot device to make Kylo Ren a formidable Final Boss after having been made a joke of in the climax of the previous two films. I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather have Palpatine.

So there you have it. Not much else to say but...

[poppypopp]

Poppy's Fic and Fandom Masterpost

Hello hello! I suppose I might as well do one of these to help people find my fics, since I have quite a few at this point.

The link to my AO3 profile is here at poppypopp

My Niloy fics:

Flame and Shadow - In which the mask comes off, the conversation goes differently, and Nil once more follows her into the fight, like a shark following the scent of blood. Where she goes, death follows, and he’s powerless to resist the call. There is also a sequel called The Boundary of Disaster that takes place during a racing event down at Hidden Ember. (BOTH FINISHED)

All the World Aflame - In which the Red Raids never ended. With Rost gone and the Proving cancelled due to the growing threat of the Carja on their doorstep, Aloy is alone and adrift until she comes across a squad of Red Raiders fighting the Braves in the Embrace. She leaps into the battle to help, and in the chaos, one of the Carja kestrels is captured. With war looming on the horizon and a weakened tribe, Aloy must venture out into the wilds beyond the Sacred Lands to follow rumors of a growing rebellion led by Oseram freebooters. If they can band together, they might just be strong enough to bring down the Carja and end the Red Raids. But to get there, she'll need a guide, and who better than the captive Carja who has nothing to lose? He can't be trusted, but perhaps he values his shot at freedom more than being a soldier in somebody else's war. (FINISHED)

My Kotaniloy fics:

Glitter and Gore - When Aloy stumbles across a serial killer who only kills bad guys, she enlists his help hunting down the man who killed her adoptive father. The trouble is, in order to get to him, they'll have to go undercover inside the strip club he owns to get close to him. What they don't know is that Kotallo, the new bouncer, is an undercover cop gathering evidence to bring down the crime syndicate running the club. As they grow closer and hard truths emerge, will they be able to work together to bring down their enemies, or will their differences tear them apart? (FINISHED) Or, the Stripper/Serial Killer AU you never knew you needed. Now with a birthday one-shot called Cocoa for Koko And another steamy oneshot: We Can Take Our Time, Baby (in Slow Motion)

Toward the Sun - Nil has always thought his soulmate's first words were a rejection - a belief that's reinforced when he hears them spoken during the heat of battle at Barren Light. He resolves to go through life alone until he meets Aloy, and though he thinks he could be happy with her - she has someone else's words written on her arm. So he lets her go. It seems a cruel twist of fate when he joins her fight in the Forbidden West only to realize that not only has she found her soulmate, but her soulmate is the same Tenakth warrior who rejected him three years ago. Though it pains him to know he's somehow been replaced, he swore to help Aloy fight, and his honor demands he stay. So he hides behind the Red Teeth mask and resolves to keep his distance from them both. But it's only a matter of time before his long shadow is finally brought to light. (FINISHED) Finished sequel here: No Shadows in the Sun

My Niloyakka fics:

Don't Say You Don't Love Me - With her search for Hephaestus stalled, Aloy tags along with Drakka, commander of the Desert Clan, to visit Hidden Ember for a special event: they’ve set up the Gauntlet Runs as a brand new attraction. Aloy hasn’t been back there since she found out who Red Teeth really was. Her feelings for Nil are complicated, and there’s too much insurmountable history. Or so she thinks, until she’s face to face with him once more. Is it possible for her to have BOTH of the most important men in her life? Or will the specters of Nil’s past stop them from having the future they deserve? (FINISHED)

Strip Strike - It starts with a heatwave. Or, Drakka loses on purpose when there's sex to be had, but it turns out he's a master Strike player. (FINISHED)

My Nil/Teb series, Sugar and Salt, in which Nil and Teb discover they're soulmates, and follows them in a series of slice-of-life oneshots exploring their relationship. (IN PROGRESS)

My Nil/Kotallo fics:

The Feral Carja and the One-armed Tenakth series - begins with a '5+1' fic exploring how Nil and Kotallo might meet and fall for each other. (IN PROGRESS)

The Rocket in a Knife Fight - AU in which Nil is captured by the Tenakth to fight in a gladiator-style arena setting (the Tenakth's version of a sun-ring) and discovers that his former commander and best friend, Fashav, has been living with them and working as a marshal. And to make matters worse, he finds himself inconveniently attracted to one of his captors, a soft-spoken, steely eyed marshal who challenges everything Nil knows about the Tenakth. Sequel: If There's a Rocket, Tie me to It (IN PROGRESS)

Turning of the Seasons - Omegaverse fic. Following the seasons of the year, Kotallo meets the alpha, Nil, who turns all his expectations upside-down, and as they find each other throughout the year, they realize that home is more than a place. (FINISHED)

Hearts and Diamonds - How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days AU (FINISHED)

My Nil/Kotallo/Fashav fics:

Burn Like a Rocket - Follows the events of my fic, 'Rocket in a Knife Fight' but this time, Fashav and Nil were lovers before Fashav was captured by the Tenakth. When they find each other again when Nil is captured to fight to the death in their arena, he finds that General Fashav is now Marshal Fashav and has been involved with Kotallo for over a year. (FINISHED)

My Nil/Kotallo/Fashav/Aloy fics:

Where the Wanderer Goes - When Nil meets Fashav, he is a weapon who learns to be a man. After Fashav's "death" at Cinnabar Sands, he doesn't think he'll recover from the loss until he meets a Nora huntress and learns to love again. Finding out she's the soulmate of his dead lover is a painful but manageable realization -- until they find out Fashav is still alive. Kotallo never thought he would fall for a Carja, but Fashav is nothing like he expected. They aren't soulmates, but that doesn't matter until Fashav meets his soulmate, the red-haired Savior of Meridian. Kotallo is equally unmoored when her Carja companion -- the man who gave him the scar on his lip -- says the words on Kotallo's arm. In response, Kotallo swears to never speak a word to Nil. He can't be soulmates with someone if he never speaks to them. But for some reason he just can't seem to stay away. (IN PROGRESS)

My Nil/Avad fic:

Gilded Shadows - What if Avad and Nil were friends before the Red Raids, and after Kadaman's death, he didn't go to Ersa for help, but Nil? (IN PROGRESS)

My token Nil/Hekarro oneshot fic:

Common Ground - When Hekarro requests an audience with the elusive Red Teeth, Nil expects the worst. But when he arrives, he discovers he and Chief Hekarro have more in common than they thought. (FINISHED)

If you have made it to the end of this thing, I appreciate you very much. I am also a part of a discord server where we ship Nil with just about everybody (as you can tell by the nature and quantity of my fics). We're a pretty chill group who like to hang out and talk Horizon, among other things. We do occasional theme nights, such as fluff night, spice night, and angst night (there's also talk of a crack night, which should be fun). If you're interested, it's called Nilysium, and you can click the link HERE to join us!

[angeli-marco-writes]

Harry Holland - Polaroids

A/N & WC - I do not know Harry or the other people mentioned in this fic, nor do I claim to; this is a work of fiction. 3.9k.

Warnings - Swearing, mention of food, smut: depictions of oral (m+f rec), penetrative sex, use of toys, bondage & bdsm, photos being taken in the act, mild exhibitionism and definite voyeurism (not Harry or reader) 18+.

Summary - You and Harry have an exciting intimate life to say the least, and he rather enjoys taking photos of the two of you in compromising positions. However, in his sex-addled mind, one vital fact is let slip when he allows Sam into his room unsupervised.

“BUD, WHERE ARE THOSE PHOTOS you took of my food the other day?” Sam asks.

The sizzling of pancakes overlaps the conversation, and you mussing up Harry’s hair distracts him, his attention drawn to more important matters than his brother. Harry barely swallows his giant mouthful of food before speaking.

“By my bed there’s a huge pile, they’ll be somewhere,” he answers flippantly.

Flippantly.

Usually so cautious and so organised Harry lets one thing slip his mind for five seconds, and his life is going to fall through the cracks. His reputation will be utterly destroyed. Just with his brother, but it still stands. Sam is… more innocent than Harry has ever been. And Sam will also tell the others, and likely their friends…

“Remembered something, baby?” you muse sardonically from beside him, your hand halting its movements as you cup his jaw, turning him to face you.

The second his green eyes meet yours, you watch the world crumble in his eyes. You’ve never seen him scramble up from his seat so quickly. His bare feet slap on the tiled floor violently, thudding sounds echoing through the house as he blunders around, swinging around the banister with the force and elegance of an elephant.

“Sam! FUCK— Wait!”

“Don’t look in that pile of photos,” you add in a feeble shout.

It’s not like what Sam’ll find there is any secret. You’ve been together a long time, you and Harry, and everyone knows full well that you’re shagging, but that doesn’t mean you necessarily want them to know exactly what happens in the bedroom, in your most intimate, secret moments together. That’s sacred, even if it seems like sacrilege to so many.

No matter how quickly you hear Harry legging it upstairs, his lean legs carrying him up the stairs perhaps three at a time, his curly hair even more unruly than before from the exertion, you know he won’t be fast enough, and that Sam is an insolent bastard when he wants to be. You’ve lived with them all long enough and have had more than your fair share of near misses: no chance will you not be found out, this time you’ll be caught. Better than the alternative and the other times, you suppose, as you cram one more syrup-drizzled and strawberry-covered pancake into your gob, reluctantly trudging your way upstairs to the hive of fun.

It’s chaos by the time you get there. Dozens of artfully-taken photos spilled out onto your duvet, Harry’s freckled face paler than you’ve ever seen it, his hands tugging at his pyjama shirt convulsively while Sam stands on the other side of the room, his dark eyes wide, his expression agog, his jaw unhinged, staring blankly and pointing at whatever the most incriminating thing is he sees next. You just hope he doesn’t go ferreting through your drawers, because then you’ll really be in trouble.

“What… the fuck.”

You come up to Harry’s side, and wrap an arm around his slim waist, lending a weak, “Surprise?”

It’s their fault if they haven’t guessed, frankly.

You can’t draw your eyes away from the pictures, so many of them, all displaying different aspects of your sex life at varying degrees of explicitness. You can even recount the minutes and hours of pleasure that led to the photos, each occasion etched into your mind. Sure, you and Harry go at it a lot, but you don’t always go the extra mile, hence why these commemorative photos of your special nights are so treasured. And private. Or, were.

The first one… oh boy, that takes you back to the most far-out, extreme experiment you tried—the most recent, as well: just this past weekend. You’re still covered in rope burn from it, though that could’ve been prevented if you hadn’t writhed or wriggled about so much while in those bonds. The amount of attempts it took, the sheer number of YouTube tutorials you had to watch, but it was definitely worth it. The intricate patterns the ropes formed all across your body, creating braids down your back, suspending you prone with little movement in your arms or legs. It was heaven to have Harry tugging on the ropes, contorting you into new and wonderful positions for his own delightful access to all of you. Perhaps it’s not something you’ll gravitate towards again, but it was fun while it lasted, and it’s another thing to tick off your list of fun, kinky bedroom experiments to try. To be fair, even though the swathes of soft, rose-coloured rope, intricately woven around you were a lot, you certainly wouldn’t be averse to trying something else with rope. Less shibari, perhaps just normal levels of bondage. You can feel the skin on your arms prickling with heat: Harry feels it too, winding his fingers into yours, holding on tight as he struggles to suppress a smirk.

The next set is interesting, and rather common. Harry’s freckled, ring-less hand is unmistakable in the dappled light as it grapples with the handle of a leather whip, or a paddle, even his belt, bringing them down harshly onto your ass cheeks, already reddened with hand prints, purple from bruises. In one of them, your skin is even glistening with his release, and another, your hands are suspended behind your back. Harry’s always been one for spanking, and the rest of them know it. Even before you were sleeping together he’d playfully smacked your bum, and he certainly hasn’t stopped even with the sexual connotations it now conveys between the two of you. As though he can read your mind, he snakes a hand down and pats you on the bum; his wink telling you it’s just for good measure. Cheeky shit.

One in the dead centre brings shivers throughout your body. Not because it wasn’t fun or pleasurable, but because of the way it made you feel afterwards. Yes, you’d talked through it in thorough details—as with everything the two of you do—how it made you feel going in, throughout, and you’d got a safe word sorted, but perhaps you hadn’t discussed all the long term risks of it. The pretty pink collar, the satin blindfold… The whole subservient thing is a big turn on for Harry, and you played into it, you always do and you naturally fall into a position of less power in your relationship because of the way you are, but being degraded in such a way isn’t for you. You can’t help but feel a sting of shame ricochet through your heart. Harry must feel it this considering how reactive he is: he leaps towards the bed and snatches it up, shredding it before your eyes, chucking it into the bin, and curling another protective arm around you.

“Look,” you whisper to Harry, turning his attention elsewhere as you point to the bottom few: your favourite photos of all.

Despite the disarray, they’re all together, and they remind you of an incredible night. Your anniversary, and what a special day it was. Butterflies swarm you at the sight of them again, but it feels strange for someone else to be looking at them. Not that you or Harry are exactly in a fit state to be proactive about preventative measures now Sam’s seen them all. His eyes bulge from his face, his mouth going dry as he swallows viciously, suddenly having to shift his already apparently tight shorts. Again.

“You’re so sexy in those, baby,” purrs Harry.

He’s damn right, you do look incredibly sexy. And though the first one in the chronological series is you mostly covered, you can remember how hard his dick was at the sight alone, salivating, clenching his fists to stop from ripping the lingerie from you piece by piece. You wanted to put on a show for him that day: who was he to deny you?

On top of your bra, panties and stockings was a nightgown, and above that, a dressing gown. Each image shows you in a further state of undress. It was a deep burgundy lace set of negligée with soft satin straps that pushed your boobs together, lifting them up, the lace hooked together with a single eyelet on your spine, whereas the panties, though half covering your cheeks with dustings of lace, hid nothing while they sat high on your hips, revealing your entire upper thigh where a matching satin garter sat with tiny lace bows. The entire thing cost a fortune. You forked out a damn arm and a leg for what you got, even with a discount included with a certain toy you bought.

First went the dressing gown, letting it fall from your shoulders, allowing it to pool around your feet as you showed off the skimpiness of the silk slip in a series of flourishing twirls, much to Harry’s delight. Next went the slip, and you honestly wish you’d taken a picture of his face utterly agog—as you stood there in stockings held up by garters, barely there panties and a push up bra. There’s one shot of his rough fingertips playing with the trim of the stockings delightedly, like a kid in a candy shop. Next went the feeble scrap of fabric that you dared to call a bra, barely covering your nipples, allowing your breasts free, spilling into Harry’s awaiting hand. You remember the next part vividly, because he was just about to peel the panties off when you laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, babe.” you cooed.

His twinkling eyes grew as wide as saucers, and you dared to card your fingers through his curls as you settled yourself over his lap, letting him keep his camera in one hand while leading the other down, down, a little further…

He’s never since made a sound quite like it, so visceral and animalistic, so ready to devour you, to come on sight. He’s never been as hard as he was in that instance.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he moaned, a deep groan released from him the second his fingers slipped through your folds to find dripping arousal all ready for him. “Just—wait a minute…”

You followed his every instruction for the next few moments, finding yourself standing up in a good lighting position, Harry strategically beneath you as he snapped a particularly incriminating (yet oh so sexy shot) of your bare pussy in crotchless panties. Harry’s never recovered. He’s already openly admitted that he uses those particular photos more than any others to get himself off whenever you’re away from him. However, the creases and folded corners of one particular photo can’t be blamed on him, since that’s the one you use when you're away, two of his fingers plunged knuckle-deep inside you in those exact panties, from that exact angle, desperately trying to replicate the irreplaceably pleasurable feeling of him within you. He took a good few more than had to be thrown away. Spillages are awfully unfortunate… He fucked you that night with the panties, stockings and garters still on. Twice. Then without the panties, then without the stockings, then nude at last at some ungodly hour of the morning when he took you at last as the sun rose. You didn’t sleep a wink.

There are more of you with lingerie on, nightgowns and matching sets, scraps of silk and strange one pieces that took you hours to get on, but they’re bound to make a sort of book, stowed away neatly (mercifully) beneath his bed.

Sam still hasn’t moved from his state of paralysed shock, and though you should probably clear the photos up from where they’re dumped, you feel a filthy swelling pride within your chest, a glean of risk as you watch Sam rove his eyes over some more, these all involving toys. If only he knew where you hid them. One his eyes focus on is you with a thick purple rubber dildo deep inside you, a rabbit vibrator stuck to your clit. Your body is but a blur, writhing around for Harry, your hands cuffed before you and not released no matter how much you moved. Harry wouldn’t let you stop coming for what felt like hours: it was the first time you squirted for him as a cry tore from your heaving chest, drenching the bed with your fifth orgasm of the night. Harry vowed he’d be the only one to make you squirt after that, no toys involved, and he’s stayed true to his word.

There’s a few more, and Sam seems to be furrowing his thick brows at the sight of the Polaroids. Glass wands, spreader bars, clit suctions (that admittedly look like they’d be used in a spa for a facial). Poor boy is being corrupted...

Good God, you need to get those toys out again.

With his twin's attention diverted, you snake your hand down the front of Baz’s shorts, wrapping your fingers around his already hard member through his boxers: he seems to be enjoying this as much as you are.

You point out one of your favourite pictures, a debauched mess that shouldn’t be viewed by anyone else, frankly. Harry was reluctant about hurting you or pushing you too far, but you begged to be gagged. You meant just by a tie, maybe his bandana—which features in many images in many different manners: as a bind for your hands, tying you to the bed, keeping your ankles together, even wrapped lightly around your neck, but never as a gag—but he went all out. When you got home, he was waiting in his room with a leather-bound ball gag.

“You begged, baby,” he said, and you couldn’t refute. You had begged, but this was above and beyond. You complied with his every wish that night, and though you’d do it again in a heartbeat, Harry wasn’t a fan of not being able to shove his fingers or cock down your throat at any given moment. He liked hearing your whines and moans and hushed curses, prayers of his name. He also liked hearing your bratty, belligerent rebuttals when he took on a dominant role. You enjoyed it more than a little, but only now can you see how much of a mess you were, messy hair and tears spouting from your eyes, drool down your chin...

Given the chance of the slightest spark of stimulation, you’ll be coming on the spot.

There’s a scattered pile of the two of you in just about every position under the sun, every shape in the karma sutra, fucking both inside and out, al fresco sex beneath the big oak in the garden, anyhow, anywhere and everywhere you could fuck safely and privately, you would, and you didn’t even realise Harry had snapped some of these shots after consenting to him taking them at any time. Your eyes squeezed shut as you peaked, Baz’s palm kneading your chest, your skirt hiked up around your stomach while your jaw was agape, your pussy exposed and glistening slick in the mirror, penetrated by Harry’s cock. That was a good day, mirror sex, and definitely something you’ll try again. This time with your own mirror... There are a few snapshots of oral, perfect Polaroids of Harry’s nose nuzzled into your pussy, his tongue deep in your core, his lips on your labia, all of them for your sake whenever he goes away.

“Gonna recreate that one tonight,” Harry husks, pointing towards one image in particular of you sucking him off.

His huge member down your throat, you’d trained yourself to breathe solely through your nose, but the neatly trimmed patch of hair there tickled your nostrils. Harry’s talent for photography reveals your doe eyes were red rimmed, saliva trickling from the corner of your mouth matching the mascara tracks down your cheeks. You’ve never looked so fucked out, and Harry couldn’t believe you remained in that innocent façade, rosy cheeks and a coy expression even with his dick rammed down your throat, making you gag.

However, the one you’d like to recreate is one he picks up on, surreptitiously moving a hand to your chest, his fingers hovering over your peaked nipple.

“Reckon we can go again the second Sam fucks off?”

“Yes,” he eagerly exhales.

You don’t blame him, especially not when both twins are staring at the same image of your tits, pushed together with Harry’s dick between them, fucking your chest despite the fact his come already painted your chest in hot white strips, a beautiful painting you’d always wish to frame. He certainly has an obsession with your boobs so there are a couple like that, his hands all over them, the tip of his member tapping them, but the debauched one is by far your favourite. Similarly, there’s one of you tied to the bed, completely spread eagle, his dick resting on your stomach while your belly is coated in his come once again.

It seems, however, that’s what snagged Sam’s attention and has his face a ghastly shade of grey because it's so pale, is the one photo Harry never wanted anyone to see. You leap and snatch it up in one fell swoop, and Harry draws you into a bear hug within his arms, kissing your temple affectionately in thanks as you stow it away for safekeeping. Though Harry naturally carries the more dominant title in your relationship, you always like to shake things up, hence why this photo (and a series of others he already has hidden) depict Harry as your submissive. You walked around as the picture perfect dominatrix in stilettos, carrying a whip while Harry lay there with his hands bound, a blindfold on in some photos (you took them so they’re not as great, but he still looks damn sexy) with a vibrating cock ring wrapped snugly around his girth. He’s never come so hard or so much after you finally removed it and cuffed his hands to the bedpost and began to ride him. You can still feel the warmth of him climaxing within you if you close your eyes and clench your thighs.

“I promise I’ll touch you later,” boy do you hope he sticks to that promise he whispers while nibbling on your earlobe, “but Sam’s coming out of his daze in 3... 2... 1...”

“OH MY GOD.”

“Okay, I didn’t see that coming,” he remarks breathily, hazel eyes wide as he pivots, met with two incredulous stares. Tom’s cry wakes Sam up right on cue.

“Harry! What the fuck?!” Sam demands, his voice a bellow, horror and disgust and... something unattainable just emanates from him. “Why do you have three porn mags worth of your girlfriend down here? That’s fucked, mate.”

“No it’s not. We just like to have photographic reminders of all our... sexcapades.”

Sam is, unsurprisingly, retching, now finally turning his head away from the pile without even bothering to pick up.

“This was cool until you called them sexcapades,” Tom chimes, smacking Harry upside the head as he swaggers over to the bed, fishing a few photos up before tossing them back down.

Sam's horrified attitude doesn’t seem to be spreading thankfully, but you and Harry are understandably rooted to the spot, stuck to the carpet, just biding your time until this is over. Then again, you can’t really tell, since no one is saying anything. You nor Harry want to be the ones to break the silence, though, and you can tell with the furtive and expressive stares you’re sharing that his anxiety is increasing the more people are seeing this.

Momentarily, you think someone may remark about your silent communication, your fixed glances and speechless conversation, but instead, Harrison comes up to you both, a sly smirk etched onto his pretty model face as he clasps a hand around one shoulder of yours and one of Harry’s.

“Harry Holland, you kinky fucker,” he praises.

You definitely feel a swell of pride at that. And the fact that Tom is trying desperately hard not to look at you while also trying to hide how flustered he is, somehow still abhorred by the sight. Harrison’s intrigue is palpable, gnawing on his lower lip as his lithe fingers trace you on the polaroid's, whereas Sam? He can’t decide whether to cry or scream. Harry huddles in closer and cuddles you, ensuring you feel every part of him, just how much he wants this lot to leave to finally have you at his mercy once more.

“So you two are shagging,” Tom observes.

You and Harry nod between kisses.

“Dangerously.”

You nod again, though this time a little reluctantly.

You expect Harry to nestle down with you again, but instead he detaches himself, unravelling his arms, and shoulders past Tom and Haz. He gives Sam a death glare as he piles up all the Polaroids and shoves them deep in a drawer for him to organise later, away from prying eyes and judgemental comments.

“Really, though?” Sam bursts out, flailing his arms before grasping Harry’s collar. “I thought you’d just handcuff her and give her a smack at most, very vanilla.”

As much as he tries to fight it, Harry’s face flushes bright red, leaving no visible distinction between his forehead and hairline. “I think those photos, erm, tell a different story.”

He rocks on the balls of his feet, tugging himself out of his brother's grasp, only to fall into another, saved by Harrison’s scowl at Tom.

“Can you lot bloody get out? Please? I’d like some alone time with my girlfriend after that sodding invasion.”

“If you’re having alone time, we’re leaving the house for a while,” Tom jokes, “how long?”

You smirk, striding over to meet Harry, eyes fixed on him as you press onto your tiptoes, wrapping your fingers around his shoulder before kissing his earlobe. He wilts into your touch.

“Two hours should be enough time. Scram.”

They do, gladly, and you slam the door shut as their scurrying footsteps down the stairs recede. Harry’s grip increases around your waist, a growl escaping him as he pushes you onto the bed. You gasp when your back hits the mattress, his lips instantly attacking your jaw.

“Which of those polaroid's do you wanna recreate first, baby?”

—

It’s hours later, and you're all around for your weekly dinner at the Holland house. You and Harry, having some ‘business’ to attend to before leaving the house, are the last to arrive, and Paddy, poor unfortunate Paddy, has the delightful job of letting you into the house.

“Sam asked me to give you this,” he says barely before you’ve entered the porch.

Harry’s face pales as he unravels the small piece of paper bundled into his hand by his younger brother, but you could swear all blood drains from him the second the words sink in.

‘You took them, you lost them, you collect them. What would mum and dad say, Harold?’

“Harry, what’s happening?”

“That utter wanker stole the polaroids as revenge for scarring him. He’s hidden them around the house. We have to find them before mum and dad go looking. You in for the ride?”

“Only if Haz can join us tonight,” you tease, and after calling a hello to Harry’s parents, you follow him around the house, detaching all the pinned photos.

Harry's learnt a solid lesson today: hide his damn Polaroids better from now on, away from the prying eyes of his bloody brothers. But, he thinks with a smirk, by no means will the two of you stop taking them.

[keilemlucent]

(nsfw) ✧ (dark content warnings) ✧  (minors do not interact) 

hawks | takami keigo x reader

wc: 1.7k

warnings: abuse, noncon/dubcon, yandere, vomit due to illness, delusion, reader is definitely not mentally well, brief description of injury, hawks is Not nice in this, reader has difficulty eating, 

a/n: uhhh it’s 2am, time to post dark drabble lol!! i love like.... deep yandere stuff. when darling’s already been In It for awhile and worn down. mwah. chefs. kiss. anyways, here’s my take!

You want to know what rain tastes like.

Is it different than water from the tap? You had asked him one day. He chuckled but didn’t give you an answer. Just an easy deflection, something unrelated to pull your mind from the outside. 

It is easier this way. 

It’s so much easier to draw the curtains in the morning. Damn the sun, damn the light— You can take vitamin D supplements and pretend you don’t mind how dark the apartment is no matter the time of day.

It’s easier to ignore the multiple locks (seven. you count them sometimes to pass the time) that are bolted into the door. The time it takes him to open them with all their tumbling gears and thundering clicks is the preamble to his comings and goings.

You know to rise from your damn-near sacred spot on the couch to greet him. You go to him with a kiss on his cheek, and to give him hug so hard, it hurts. You can’t tell if it’s from the strain of your arms around his, or the pressure of his embrace around you. You don’t particularly mind either way. It’s the reminder you need that as empty and dark as the apartment is, he’ll always return.

Always.

You lock your hands behind his back, clasped below his wings. Routinely, you bury your face in his chest while he sways you. He asks about your day, but he isn’t listening. You don’t think so, but you don’t mind. Nothing you say means much, and every day is the same. You sit on the couch and stare at the floor. The walls. The ceiling if you’re feeling more adventurous.  

You stopped watching TV alone months ago. No matter what you watched on Keigo’s big, sleek television, it was just a reminder. An awful, unavoidable reminder that the world is quite large, and you weren’t apart of it.

You couldn’t be. You were locked in place— one, two, three, four, five, six, seven — in the little apartment. Wasting away, as much as you tried not to.

...

“You need to eat, baby,” Keigo coax. He holds a deep spoonful of soup to your lips. It smells divine, like chives and cream. “Just a little. For me?”

‘For me.’

Your inability to stomach anything is his problem, just as much as it is yours. That’s just a fact.

“I don’t want to get sick again,” You squeeze your hands. There is a semblance of comfort in the action as Keigo inspects you. Searching.

It isn’t a lie. Your stomach growls and rolls, and it has been all day. Keigo has started to always leave ample leftovers in the fridge in the case you’d actually want to eat them. And you do. Sometimes, you even try! Really try. But the end result is always the same. Your head ends up dangling over the bowl of your toilet while you wretch and writhe. 

Acid stings your throat for hours. 

Despite Keigo’s... previous treatment, he seems genuinely concerned about this development. You’re hardly able to keep anything down, despite being well otherwise.

(You’re so unwell and have been for so long, he can’t begin to see it. The bruises are perpetual. The scars that you didn’t have a year ago are fixtures he can’t remember you without. The constant tremble you carry is from the drafty apartment, not from the deeply instilled fear you carry. The one he had branded (literally) onto you. Into you.)

(Fucker.)

You shake the thought off and open your mouth and accept the bite. And Keigo, bless his heart, is sweet enough to not shove the spoon to the back of your throat. He lets you suck the soup from it, quietly praising your work.

You manage to eat half the bowl before shaking your head, tummy already twisting in the worst, most familiar way.

Keigo gives you pills then. Four of them, all slightly different colors and shapes. You don’t know what they do, and you knew better than to ask (you’d gotten slapped across the face the first and only time you tried.) 

The fourth pill is new, and Keigo, graciously, tells you that it’s for the nausea. That a special doctor is helping him help you. Isn’t that wonderful?

You’re so, so lucky.

 (You hurl the next morning once the meds wear off. Your hands shake and your slam your fist into your temples. Begging. You’re not sure to who. Maybe to yourself. Your body. Crying for your wretched form to just stop hurting you. If you weren’t sick, things would be better.

Maybe, you’re begging Keigo. For help. To make it stop. To take care of you and coo that things will be fine as things are so completely not find that you can’t comprehend it. But he is the one who decides when you hurt. Shouldn’t he be able to make this stop?

Maybe you’re begging him to unlatch those — one, two, three, four, five, six— seven locks so you could dash into the world. Scream at the first person you see that beloved, pro-hero Hawks is so beyond deranged and fucked up. Maybe no civilian would believe you. But you were the evidence. You bore the slashes of his feathers. The perpetual imprint of his fingers on hips and thighs. You even had a brand on the bottom of your foot. K-E-I-G-O.

Maybe, you’re begging to whatever god you once believed in to kill you. You don’t care about the means. Be it your hand, or Keigo’s, or random chance.)

 You spew into the murky water and try to forget.

...

Keigo’s special doctor comes by. You see the two exchange hands by the door when she first arrives. A flash of bills and coins. Paid off, part of you perks up. The doctor won’t talk about Hawks’ little captive. You’re sure it’s a handsome amount, based on the neutrality of her expression as she takes you in.

To care so little about something like you is hardly a surprise.

She examines you, collects some blood and other samples. Prescribes a few more medicines that have long and complicated names that are hard to pronounce. You try to forget them. You’re happy to be quiet. Sit next to Keigo while he wraps a wing around you and rubs your back in little circles. He’s warm and good, unlike the rot in your stomach.

 Keigo praises you once she leaves, wrapping you up in him, scarlet feathers and all. Kisses your cheeks, telling you how well you did. How you didn’t falter, didn’t scream, didn’t let her touch you too much. How you were so perfect for him. You deserve a reward! 

He treats you to fresh sheets and more kisses. The kind that feels like how lovers are supposed to kiss. There isn’t too much teeth or tongue, just slow, open-mouthed pressing that makes your tummy flutter in a good way (for once.)

“Isn’t this nice?” Keigo hums against your lips. 

You nod, barely eager but not apprehensive either. Treading lightly on a carefully, self-cultivated path between wanting and revulsion. As good as it feels, you don’t want to give him. You don’t remember how.

His lips trail to your neck, to your collarbones. He pushes up your shirt and only leaves little pecks over your nipples and chest. No wounds that draw blood. No hickeys that last weeks. 

You don’t realize you start trembling until Keigo has to grip your inner thighs to still you. So, he can coo blessed, little reminders.

“This feels good, doesn’t it?”

“I always make you feel so good.”

“You deserve this, all of this,” he says before pressing his lips to your clit. You’re just wet enough for him to fuck you on his fingers. Enough that when he bullies the bundle of nerves inside you, you coat his fingers in slick and whine. Your voice breaks, over and over, and little, unwanted tears leak into your hairline.

Keigo ignores them as usual. You can be so dramatic.

And Keigo, ever gracious, let’s you shatter on his fingers. Doesn’t make you beg, just whispered hushed adorations as you come undone on his tongue. He hardly toys with you after, and instead lets you fall into the sheets. Properly spend, though not exhausted.

You still shake, but that’s okay. It’s manageable.

Keigo cleans you up with a silken cloth. He wipes between the swell of your breasts, down your navel and to your cunt. His feathers ruffle as he does his work, clearly focused. There’s no speaking during it, only watching and observing.

“Thank you.” You speak without prompting. 

Your words are dry and underused. Your lips feel chapped, and your vision is hazy in the dark of the bedroom. 

Keigo gives you a smile (full of white-hot pride), clicking his tongue, “Of course, dovey. You deserve to feel good for me. I want you to. I like you like this.”

(He carries that same sentiment that no matter your ‘post-fuck’ state. Whether you’re twitching and dumb from overstimulation. Whether you’re bawling from pain and holding your hand over a too deep, ‘accidental’ wound. Whether your expression is blank, lips ajar, and face tilted to the ceiling.)

You can only agree with him.

What other option do you have?

...

(The doctor calls the following week. Keigo speaks to her in hushed tones from his office, muffled and stern. You only catch pieces of it.

“They do not appear to be suffering from anything specific illness.” The doctor pauses. “The weakness, fatigue, shakiness, forgetfulness, and nausea all seem to be tied back to prolonged anxiety. Constant surges of adrenaline that have pushed them to this point.”

Keigo doesn’t bother asking the source.

He knows it.

(And honestly? He seems a little proud.)

 You return to settle on the couch. Ever practiced, you turn towards the door and find the locks.

One, two, three four—

That four one wouldn’t be too hard to pick, would it?

(You’d already tried months ago. It was just a chain lock, but Keigo had nearly snapped your wrist when he caught you trying to tamper with it.)

Five, six, seven—

Your stomach rolls and your hug your knees, still managing a smile when Keigo rejoins you. His wings flex, and he flashes you a golden smile. His phone is locked and in his hand, and you know he’ll ignore it for the night. He’ll wrap you in his arms and smother you with his wings.

It’s better this way, you remind yourself, turning from the locks.

[maulusque]

Clone genetic enhancement ideas

So the clones were genetically enhanced, but i don’t really see any writers (in fanfic or in published stuff) really exploring what that MEANS beyond “clone very stronk”. Here are some ideas that would actually make clones significantly different from just a regular-ass human in peak condition. 

-enhanced senses: eyesight, hearing, etc. I’m talking eyes like a HAWK

-better reflexes

-quicker information processing

-can hear sounds of higher and lower frequency than standard humans

-can see light of a broader spectrum than human standard

-learn quicker, retain information and skills better (potential problem: if you learn something the WRONG way, that way might stick really well)

-photographic memory (really useful for memorizing layouts and maps)

-immunity to various diseases

-can tolerate a wider range of temperatures and environments

-increased stamina and strength baseline. Clones can just run full-tilt for hours and hours and be like “ah a nice stroll”. Over long distances, they can out-pace jedi in the same way that humans can out-pace horses.

-higher tolerance of certain poisons/toxins (clones can straight-up drink ethanol, and get maybe a little tipsy)

-bodies respond quickly to physical stress, and slowly to the absence of it (basically, this means that physical conditioning results in stronger muscles and a stronger cardiovascular system really quickly, and it takes MUCH longer for a clone to lose strength and conditioning due to not exercising than standard humans. Think how much valuable training time is saved if they only have to go on a run like, once a month in order to stay in shape)

-increased ability to function through intense pain and acute injuries. Basically, semi-disabling the pain system so it’s less distracting. Probably not good for the survival of the individual in many situations, but an advantage on the battlefield. 

-heal faster and better, with fewer long-term complications. Clones can dislocate their shoulders and NOT have the joint be permanently fucked up, because the Kaminoans re-designed the whole damn thing to suck WAY less.

-actually, unique internal anatomy. There’s probably a lot about the human body besides the shoulder joint that is actually just really stupid, and something no intelligent designer would actually build. So the Kaminoans can fix a lot of that stuff. Better knees, maybe. Stronger ribs. Maybe Cody punches droids not just because he’s a mad bastard, but also because his metatarsals are literally as strong as steel. 

-Hearing loss/hearing damage? No problem, your ear can regrow those little hair-thingies that help you hear. 

-Of course, it takes energy to maintain muscle mass, which is why human bodies lose it if we’re not using it. Clones need significantly more calories than standard humans. However, their digestive systems are enhanced to extract calories and nutrients from food much more efficiently, so food goes much farther. Potential weird side effect: maybe clones only have to poop like, once a week?

-You could probably extend that into increased ability to tolerate long periods without food/on low rations, despite the increased need for calories. 

-wouldn’t it be NEAT if the kaminoans somehow designed self-repairing DNA. This would mean that others couldn’t take a DNA sample from a clone and modify it to create their own clones (basically, it protects their product. It’s like DRM for clones). This ALSO means that clones couldn’t get cancer, and that they’d be immune to radiation poisoning. So a clone could just walk up to a sphere of uranium at critical mass and pick it up. Maybe with oven mitts on if it’s hot. (this would also make it harder for a rapid-aging cure to be developed, but uhhhh fanfic writers find a way)

- “bred for obedience” I think most of this would have to be accomplished through tightly-controlled messaging and cultural norms as the clones grow up- basically, enshrining obedience as a desirable and almost sacred trait, to be prized higher than anything else, including the lives of your brothers. In the same way that we hear stories of people sacrificing their lives to protect their loved ones, the clones would grow up hearing stories of soldiers sacrificing their brothers’ lives to obey an order from a superior. 

-SOME of the “obedience” thing could be engineered, though. Humans are already super social, but it would probably make sense for the clones to have an even greater need for social bonds. This would make for greater teamwork and coordination, and better unit cohesion, since the clones would be more inclined to prioritize friendship/agreeing with someone over winning an argument. It would also make it so they’d bond with their natural-born generals more easily, so they would obey them not just because they’re supposed to, but because they’d be much quicker to see them as a friend, and someone who’s trust they want to earn, someone they want to incorporate into their group and make happy.

-consequently, clones who find themselves alone do NOT do well. Isolation has a much more profoundly negative impact on clones than on regular humans.

-Originally, clones designed to operate alone or in small teams would not have the social enhancement- ARC troopers, spec-ops teams, etc. There wouldn’t be much of a noticeable difference in everyday interactions, but they’d also be vaguely weirded out by what they interpret as aggressive friendliness from their brothers, and their brothers would think they’re a bit shy and standoffish. 

-actually this social modification would make it MUCH harder for clones to kill people. REGULAR HUMANS are already super bad at killing people- i remember reading this article about how as soon as soldiers have to point their weapons at actual people, their aim gets mysteriously much shittier. Even when compared to situations that are exactly the same, except they’re not shooting at other humans. So reconcile this how you will, idk.

-I imagine a lot of these enhancements would be accomplished not through DNA, but through microorganisms. Retroviruses could explain the DNA resistant to modification, and the increased healing speed, and possibly some disease resistance (do i know anything about retroviruses other than a vague concept of what they are? no i do not. will that stop me? also no.) Their metabolism can be partially explained through specially engineered gut microbes.

-not sure how they’d go about making clones “resistant to any stress”, because you can’t exactly turn off the trauma response in the brain without breaking a bunch of other things. They could probably do a bit of fiddling to make clones more resistant to chemical imbalances, and therefore more depression-resistant. I think most of the “stress-resistance” would have to come through training. Either they train the clones to basically suppress everything, which might work alright in the short term. OR they actually have systems in place that help prevent the development of things like PTSD and help treat trauma. Meaning the clones are literally trained in self-care, positive self-talk, talking about their pain with their brothers, and having community rituals around things like death and grief. I don’t think that’s super likely because one thing that’s integral to those concepts is the concept of “i am a person and i have worth, and if i feel angry about something bad happening, that is ok and valid” and considering that a whole lot of bad things happen to the clones all the time and their childhood is a whole boatload of bad all happening at once, i don’t think the kaminoans would want the clones realizing “hey wait a minute i’m a person and i don’t deserve to be treated this way and it’s ok for me to be mad at you”. 

- the clones were supposedly engineered to be “less aggressive” but i think there was literally nothing more to that than a cover story for the control chip. The clones wouldn’t be raised with a lot of the aggressive western concept of masculinity, where anger is the default reaction to like, everything, and your personal pride is extremely important and also fragile (no offense lmao). So you wouldn’t have clones posturing and getting angry over perceived slights and fighting each other all the time, like everyone in-universe apparently expects to be the case. Anyway, why would you want your soldiers to be less aggressive? they’re literally supposed to fight and kill the enemy. You want them fully capable of getting angry, anger is the human response to fear and danger that lets us DO something about it. 

-obviously the biggest component in how they behave would be how they are raised, but that’s an entirely different post

-Specializations! I imagine that initially, the Kaminoans had different clones with different traits engineered specifically to fill certain roles. However, as the war went on, they struggled to keep up with demand and had to start shoving clones into whatever roles were needed (hence Fives and Echo becoming ARCs, despite not being engineered as ARC troopers). 

-Command clones would have better abilities in the executive function parts of the brain that deal with extrapolation, planning ahead, spatial reasoning, etc. They’d also have increased visual pattern recognition (like a pigeon)

-search-and-rescue troops would also have the pigeon pattern recognition abilities. The coast guard literally strapped pigeons to helicopters who would tap a button when they saw orange in the water, because they were better at spotting it than humans. Pigeons can detect cancer in microscope images of cells, because they’re that good at pattern recognition

-Pilots would have hella reflexes, excellent spatial awareness and spatial reasoning skills, much greater ability to process visual information, stronger hearts and blood vessels (to resist greater Gs of force), and they’d also be much shorter, to better fit into a cockpit. Which reminds me of Axe, that poor bastard from Ahsoka’s squadron over Ryloth who was almost eight feet tall. rip poor Axe, how did you even become a pilot, you long bastard.

-medics who can smell certain diseases. If you want to get a little bit out there, make the medics able to purr so they can sooth stressed-out patients. 

-infantry would have even greater endurance than everyone else, as well as greater tolerance for, and ability to, remain constantly on alert.

-ability to fall asleep at will? that would be super dope.

-maybe more efficient sleep, so to an adult clone, 4 hours of sleep is genuinely sufficient.

-concept: clones can sort of turn down their bodily functions- slow their digestion, heart, lungs, the whole nine yards- to last longer in adverse conditions. Sort of a half-hibernation (or quarter hibernation- they’d still be able to talk and think, but they’d feel very lethargic). They wouldn’t be able to function very well, but it would be great for things like enduring intense cold, periods without food, low-oxygen environments, and it would be especially useful if you were wounded and waiting for help, since you could slow your circulation, meaning it would take you a lot longer to bleed out. This state could be triggered by a combination of physical actions such as sitting or lying still, breathing slowly and deeply, and focusing on slowing the heart down (humans can actually slow down their hearts consciously if you practice at it, this is basically that, but turned up to like 1100).

-one thing that never made sense to me was the whole “we’re running out of jango fett’s DNA, all the new clones won’t be as good, and we have to stop ventress from stealing the original DNA” because like, can’t they just, get the EXACT SAME DNA from the clones?? you know, the exact genetic copies? With all the enhancements already done? But now my idea is that the kaminoans have engineered the clones so their DNA straight up can’t be copied. The clone’s own body can obviously replicate it, but if you take a sample and try to extract the DNA, it just self-destructs or something. This is to protect their intellectual property, but also means that they literally have to use a couple of Jango Fett’s actual human cells for every single clone they make (and the fact that they then have to do all the above enhancements to every single embryo helps explain why there’s so many small mutations, such as hair color and height). So they kinda shot themselves in the foot with that one. 

-of course since things like ADHD and autism have a strong genetic component, the kaminoans could theoretically engineer those out of the clones, but actually FUCK THAT so for whatever reason, that’s just not something they are able to do, and neurodivergent clones are absolutely a thing

[wangshuus]

love like you | xiao

pairing: xiao/gn!reader

genre: angst+fluff

wc: 4.1k

summary: you and xiao are polar opposites according to him and because of that, he deems himself unworthy. 

note: this is my first time writing for genshin and i love xiao so much so this is essentially a bunch of word vomit i whipped together while listening to love like you from the su soundtrack :’) 

(i’ll have to go in for another proof read after but pls take this for now)

fic under the cut

In the land of Liyue, the Adepti were acknowledged for being the protectors of the sacred land, guarding both it and its people. As most of the adepti resided in their abodes, there was but one that stayed within the vicinity of the Wangshu Inn. Xiao; the Vigilant Yaksha, Conqueror of Demons, Alatus. He went by many titles, many names all of which carried the story of the adeptus himself. Upon the years of history carried through Liyue in its passing generations, it’s known to many that despite having the looks of a young man, the adeptus was not someone you would want to take lightly. The Yaksha carried thousands of years worth of burden, shackles of guilt and terror binding him to unpleasant memories. With every passing day, he is harshly reminded of the way he and his polearm skillfully worked through the bloodied dance of weapons on the battlefield, crimson liquid painting the ground and his very hands. It stains so intensely that it was like an unseen tattoo that reminded him of eons of slaughter he partook in, the lives and dreams he so greedily took from people. It was something only he could see and something he would continue to see for many more years to come according to him. 

He very rarely got close to anything or anyone, devoting his life to duty and the orders granted to him by Rex Lapis to protect the beloved land of Liyue. For this very reason, he never thought much about emotions or the overall concept of it, seeing it as a worthless matter, a weakness even, for it could not help in the slaying of those in battle. All he ever knew at that point was violence, having his purity harshly stolen from his grasp all those centuries ago and being left with not even a single grain of what it was like to feel anything pleasant. Whenever he did feel anything, pain, suffering and agony were the only things that filled his system therefore to him, it was better to feel nothing at all. Needless to say, he was somewhat unapproachable on several levels, but who could blame him? 

There then came a day in which all of this would away as an estranged guest made your way merry when into the Inn. You, (Y/n) were a mere mortal traveler with a dendro vision chained upon your hip, specializing in the field of healing. You stumbled upon the inn, looking to take on commissions and requests in exchange for a room for the time being. Your fates clashed with each other during your first encounter when you were tasked to deliver almond tofu to the adeptus that was specially made by yourself. You could still remember stuttering over your words in embarrassment during your first meeting as he revealed himself to you, commending you for your culinary skills but telling you to leave immediately, saying something along the lines of it being ‘too dangerous for mere mortals to stay in the presence of adepti for too long’. It was accurate to say that you two took an interest in the oddity of the situation. Why did Xiao decide to reveal himself to the simple human, knowing very well his mere presence was already a threat to you. Why did you not turn away in fear just from the adeptus’ profound deathly gaze? There were several unspoken questions between you two at the time but that one fateful encounter had caused a shift.

You had decided to extend your stay at the inn a little longer than you intended to. You went about the daily tasks set out by Verr in exchange for your stay every day that you were there. The completion of your tasks leads to a delivery that had become habitual to you during your stay at the inn. Every day you’d made your way up to the highest terrace in the inn to drop off a plate of almond tofu to the adeptus. On some days, he’d reveal himself and on some others, he chose to remain unseen-- and to you, this was okay. As the days passed, it began to be more apparent how odd this whole shift was for the both of them.

You are an adventurer, someone who sought out to travel the lands, and yet, you remained grounded at the Inn, your fascination and curiosity driving your patience to learn about the distant Yaksha and fuelling your willingness to stay settled at the inn instead of seeking for the thrill of adventure. Xiao was an adeptus, a being that has lived for many years on end, a being that has slaughtered countless, a being that carried an indescribable amount of karmic debt for all the treacherous and ungodly amount of terror he has bestowed upon thousands in the past. He could not explain to himself why he even decided to associate with a simple mortal, thinking that there was something wrong with him at the time because he knew that if he were in his right mind, he would have never even bothered taking a glance at the human. But then again, not all things could be explained. From the days that you had stayed at the Inn for that time, you would find yourself visiting the lone adeptus every evening, delivering a plate of what became familiar to him as your almond tofu, the one that deemed to be the closest to that of the dreams he so greedily devoured all those years ago. 

Months had passed since the first day you first set foot into the inn. You had managed other work and commissions throughout the time but often found herself coming back. you became well acquainted with everyone who worked there, practically making it her second home in fact. Even when you did have to part ways, you would pass by whenever you could, sparing your time and energy at least once a week to come reeling back like a moth drawn to a flame. The reason behind it was very evident to you, nothing that you would ever admit to hiding at this point. You did enjoy the company and atmosphere of the other humans at the inn but at the end of the day, everything came back down to the enigmatic adeptus that resided there. 

Sensing your presence had become second nature to the adeptus, him knowing the very moment you set foot into the Inn. He would never admit it to himself, but he found himself looking forward to the mortal’s visits. He still thought about the first day he decided to reveal himself to you, feeling a little more content about it with every passing day. But something about the whole ordeal scared him to no end. He wished it wasn’t the case but he was well aware of all the changes and feelings that had bloomed since you waltzed into his life. The feeling of bubbling excitement inside of him every time you came back to him, the feeling of embarrassment of when you’d blurt out compliments towards him, feeling more comfortable and daring as the visits continued. The feeling of protectiveness washing over him when you told him stories in which you got even the slightest bit injured. One may view this just as someone showing emotion; but that was the problem for him. He wasn’t supposed to show emotion-- he wasn’t supposed to feel-- according to himself at least. Rather, he didn’t deem himself worthy to feel pleasant emotions.

“Xiao” A familiar voice called out to him, turning to face the direction from where he stood, which happened to be the spot where he viewed the familiar landscape of Liyue.

You made your way towards him, holding out a plate of almond tofu which he had come to admire. He took the plate from your grasp and greeted her with a light hum of acknowledgment before beginning to munch down on the tofu. You let out a soft chuckle before standing next to him and leaning on the railing, staring off into the starry skies you had become accustomed to seeing, though every time, it never failed to amaze you. Your eyes gazed at the twinkling stars in the sky as you began your usual routine of speaking about how your life has been since you last saw each other. You had become accustomed to Xiao’s aloof demeanor at times like this because you knew that despite him seemingly looking uncaring, he was secretly listening to your rambling. You stared off into the distance as you spoke, your attention being stolen by the stars. While at work on the plate of almond tofu in his hands, Xiao took these moments to look at you as he silently listened to your long-winded sentences.

In serene moments like these, it was hard for Xiao to keep his composure. Though the stars in the sky glimmered so beautifully, they paled in comparison to your eyes when they sparkled so passionately when you spoke of your adventures. In moments like these, Xiao was reminded of your courteous nature. He was reminded of how good you are, going about your time adventuring the lands, specializing in the art of healing with the assistance of the beloved vision clipped at your side. You lived for adventure; you lived to help those in need. It was in moments like these when he became painfully aware of how different you were from each other.

It had been so long since Xiao ever considered himself to be good in any way. He was all too aware of the disgusting red that painted his hands permanently, the hands which have slain countless beings in the past. The hands that he did not see worthy to touch anything so fragile in fear that it would break, feeling as if anything would die at even the slightest touch of his fingertips. You see, when he met you, he was so sure that he was far from anything good and you proved himself to be right in his mind; because you were what he deemed to be good in his eyes. And he was nothing like you.

Before he knew it, he was left with an empty plate and a bustling mind full of thoughts as he looked out into the distance along with your words flowing freely with the wind. You turned back to see Xiao in all his glory, taking in his presence, eyes lingering upon him like the first time you met him. There was never a day that passed where he didn’t look stunning in your eyes. The reserved yaksha was nothing short of a challenge for you to get close to. Even to this day, there are times where he was standoffish towards you. In moments like these, you’re reminded of how you’ve barely scratched the surface of his character, being well aware that he’s lived far longer than you and will quite possibly continue to live way beyond your time. Though he hasn’t explained every single detail of his past to you, there have been significant points in time where he has opened up about snippets of his past, to which you grasped and held onto as much detail as you could when he went on. You’ve picked up that Xiao isn’t the most well-articulated when it comes to explaining his feelings but you paid no mind to it, taking pride over the fact that he has yet to slit your throat open with his spear. There have been countless occasions in which you’ve praised Xiao but none of them have truly projected your feelings towards the adeptus.

Xiao was not truly aware of how deeply you felt for him. Sure, he thought that you were interested enough to stick around and pester him for who knows whatever reason. However, it went way beyond that. You admired him so dearly, his presence being one in which you ironically found an indescribable amount of comfort in. You’ve listened intently to his wise words of wisdom, his tales of his bloodstained past that he was willing to share, as well as his little remarks about how peculiar humans are. You saw beyond the seemingly frigid, cold, and distant demeanor of Xiao and instead saw a boy with such a yearning to be tender, gentleness being beyond his reach according to him but to you, he was gentle. 

You noticed the way he would handle the little things involving you. You notice the way his tone has changed in the slightest when talking to you whenever he does, softer than the first time you had initially met. You notice the way he acts when it comes to physical touch, preferring to make little to no contact to you but his touches were soft and fleeting whenever touch was necessary. He’s told you several times in the past that he has a brute touch preferring a distance to keep himself from hurting you. From that alone, you knew he’s gentle, reluctant to admit it though due to the events of the past but nonetheless, his gentleness was hard to grasp but must be cherished greatly and that is something that you have done. 

“Xiao” You called out to him. He turned to face you, noticing how you were staring right back at him, your arms resting upon the railing as you gazed at him.

“Is something wrong? You seem a little more spaced out today.” You spoke out again.

He sighed before clicking his tongue. “It's nothing that should be of any concern to mo--” 

“--mortals like you, I know yada yada yada. You’ve said that far too many times in the past. Now tell me, what’s truly wrong Xiao. I did make you listen to my rambling so it’s only fair that you shoot something my way.” You cut him off. 

Annoyance laced his features as he let out his nth sigh of the day. He turned to look at you, giving you a serious, almost cold look.

“I am already greatly aware of how odd some human tendencies are, knowing you mortals do some strange actions that even I question to this day. But you, you are the most peculiar of ones that I have encountered. You wish to stay with someone as myself, someone who could take your life in a single heartbeat. So tell me, why does someone like you continue to linger?”

Lo and behold, a question that you were surprised to hear from him, though you knew the day would eventually come when he would ask. Why did you continue to come to him time and time around? You let out an exasperated sigh as you turned to him with a lighthearted smile in an attempt to lighten the tension that filled the air.

“I enjoy your company, that’s all. Is it so wrong to spend time with someone when you enjoy them being around?” You stated. His eyes narrowed at your response.

“I do not believe it is normal to risk your life simply for mere company, it is not worth it. I refuse to believe that your motives are as light-hearted as that. Is there something that you desire that is beyond that of human capabilities?” He stated.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your smile faltered at his aloof response. What was with the sudden cold demeanor he decided to put up front? You held eye contact with his warm amber orbs that held a stare ironically as cold as the mountains of Dragonspine.

“It’s because you’re you, Xiao. I come back and spend my time here because you are you. I enjoy the little things about you and the time we spend together, y’know? I enjoy the way your eyes light up at the sight of almond tofu, I enjoy your little declarations of how odd us mortals are, I enjoy hearing you open up about even the littlest of things. You’re special in my eyes, Xiao. You’re strong in so many different aspects, you’re wise in the words of advice you speak and last but not least, you’re gentle. Those are just a few of many aspects of yourself that make you so special to me.”

Xiao’s face contorted to one of bewilderment for a brief moment before morphing to one of disbelief, scoffing at the statement. ‘Gentle’ he thought. When you mentioned him being gentle, he thought to himself that it was a load of pure nonsense.

“Calling me gentle is simply blasphemous. I have told you countless times that I am far anything related to that of a tender nature. I leave nothing but a trail of anguish and regret. You’re foolish to see me in anything of a good kind of special, even more so if you see me as gentle.” He firmly stated as his arms crossed tightly across his torso.

Archon’s Xiao’s mind was a mess. He was in a stubborn state of denial as he refused to believe the words that slipped past your lips, writing them off as lies. He covered the creeping insecurity that arose in him with a stone cold demeanor like he always did. He couldn’t accept it, he couldn't even fathom to believe what makes you think he’s so special. 

“Listen Xiao, you’re being awfully stubborn right now.” You said dejectedly. Despite his current manner, you wouldn’t back down, seeing this as one of the only opportunities where you could truly and openly speak about how you felt towards him. You turned so that you were fully facing him, standing your ground as you spoke to him.

“You think so lowly of yourself sometimes y’know? It saddens me to know that you only ever see yourself like that.” You stated.

“I am stating nothing but the tru--” Xiao spoke.

“Listen to me, Xiao.” You cut him off, him being surprised by your snapback.

“You’re far more than your own past. I’m aware of everything you’ve gone through from what you’ve told me. Forgive me for I’m unable to fully sympathize with you but I can’t let you continue to do this to yourself. I’ve only known you for mere months out of the thousands of years you’ve lived but I’ve been around you long enough to know that you’re not as bad as you claim yourself to be.” You paused for a moment to gather yourself before you continued on, looking that Xiao was very much paying attention, an unreadable look on his face.

“You’ve told me yourself that you’ve been around long enough to capture the knowledge of the world to an extent. You’ve told me that you’re aware of how barbaric and lethal your own strength is but you’ve never told me that you hold tenderness inside you, even after all you’ve been through. You hold such valuable knowledge in the field of strength but you’ve failed to notice that the gentleness in you is not completely gone.” Your own hands stretched out and firmly held onto his gloved ones as you continued speaking. 

“You speak about yourself as if you’re not worthy of feeling anything but the anguish and pain as a price to pay for your actions. You’re allowed to feel vulnerable, you’re allowed to feel curious, you’re allowed to feel happiness. I want you to be more honest with yourself so that you can see that you’re worthy enough to feel good emotions. You can extend yourself out to others and the human world and allow yourself to be free. Still after all this time, I sense you feel that it’s necessary to keep me at an arm's length but that’s not true nor is it something that I want. Though this fact alone proves my statement. The fact you wish to keep me away is a sign that you hold that gentleness within but you can still learn to be gentle without having to lock everyone out. Your loneliness isn’t an inevitable conclusion, and I’ll prove to you that it isn't. I wish to stay with you not only because I enjoy your company but because I found something in you worth cherishing. I want to see you grow from whatever anguish you hold, even if it’s just a little bit. I know my life might be merely a second in yours but please, let me do what I can in my lifetime to make you feel worthy and feel loved, because I truly do love and care for you, Xiao.” Your grip tightened around his hands, fearing that he’d yank them away from you with every passing second. Although you firmly stand your ground, you were internally malfunctioning at the whole-hearted confession to the adeptus in front of you.

Xiao felt as if the wind was knocked out of his lungs, face contorted into that of even more disbelief as he found himself still trying to process this whole ordeal. He took the time in processing the words that came directly from your heart as it went straight into his, a warm feeling erupting inside of him, something that felt to foreign to him that it scared him a little. Though your words held a weight to them, it was much more pleasant compared to that of his past memories, but it wasn’t enough to distract him from the way you desperately held onto him.

He was well aware that he could pull away from you at any moment, knowing that your strength could in no way match his but he couldn’t do it. The moment your hands touched his, even through his gloves he felt the firm gentleness of your grasp. You were no hydro user but in that very moment, he felt as if you washed away the bloody sins that stained his hands for years on end. For once he felt clean; for once he felt pure, rid of all the unpleasantries of the world for these very moments that he spent with you.

You noticed how Xiao stood still. You feared that you might’ve severely angered him from the way you snapped at him, but the look on his face told you otherwise.

The usually serious and stern face of the adeptus held such a soft, perhaps vulnerable look. His eyes were wide and in the moonlight, you could tell that they were glossed over from the way they shone with emotion, mouth slightly ajar, possibly trying to find the right words to respond to you. He didn’t need to say anything though because from that look alone, you got all the answers that you needed.

You slowly let go of his hands as one arm moved to wrap around his waist and the other going towards the back of his head, reeling him in closely for a foreign yet mellow embrace. His hands awkwardly stayed at his sides before they slowly and hesitantly moved to hug you back, leaning in gently to your touch as your hand led his head to the crook of your neck, allowing him to bask in the warmth you so generously offered him. For the first time in archons knows how long, Xiao felt a warm liquid spill from his eyes, staining your shirt. Your hands ruffled through his hair in an attempt to soothe him in his time of vulnerability. His hold on you was still so light, almost as if he was afraid he’d break you if he held on even tighter. The hand that ghosted over his back made its way to one of his arms and tugged at it, encouraging him to hold on as much as he needed.

“It’s okay Xiao, you can hold on tighter. I’m not as fragile as you may think. You don’t have to be scared of breaking me.” You chuckled lightheartedly.

His grip did tighten, as he began to mumble words with his face still buried at your side. Something along the lines of apologizing for snapping at you earlier. Your smile widened as you held onto him even tighter if that was possible.

Xiao knew he wasn’t perfect, he was far from it in fact. He had so many flaws and rough edges but that was okay--that’s what made him Xiao. He never understood until now why you thought he was so special and to be quite frank, he still didn’t understand, but he was determined to understand it one day. He wasn’t good like you but he wanted to start believing that he was good in his own way, wishing to truly do something that he felt was right by you in the future. Though it wouldn’t be the easiest of journeys, he was determined to do something that feared him to no end--for you. He wanted to learn how to love, how to love you even more and openly express it to you but also, learn how to love himself, just as you loved him. 

“Thank you, (Y/n).”

[sea-owl]

So I fell back into winx club again (s1-3 plus the movie, we recognize nothing else past that on this blog) and like I just have headcannons I've been wanting to share forever on Domino and a sorta Domino raised Bloom/an au specifically.

First before I get into it I honestly believe Bloom shared traits with the people of Domino but because every adult thought Domino and it's people were gone they just didn't put two and two together. After every person who knew Bloom before were like "You know that makes sense."

(Also how the hell did they make Domino disappear from everyone's mind in less than one generation? Even with the whole planet gone you can not convice me that there weren't others from Domino who just happened to move and not to add into the the possible relgion aspect of Domino. Which leads into my next point)

Domino would have been in my mind a sacred realm to those who worshipped/believed/celebrated the Great Dragon and the Dragon's Flame/Fire/Spark. Many would make pilgrimages to Domino like people on Earth do to Jerusalem.

Domino's royal family also always had at least two children, one to rule politically, and the other to be the spiritual leader. The spiritual leader would be the one with the strongest connection to the Dragon's Flame or the chosen host of the Great Dragon. They would hold that position until they died. Due to wanting to keep this within Domino the spiritual leader didn't often get married or if they did they had a long distance marriage. They didn't have to be celibate though, creating new life would be a big thing for them.

Domino used to be an absolute monarchy but over time has given power to a ruling government that can make decisions without the monarch, but the monarch still is the leader.

Dominions tend to have some dragon traits, though they don't always mean to do it. One of these being growling. They have different growls for different emotions. (This totally came from the realization on how much Bloom growls in the show.)

They also have a great relationship with dragons because they can communicate with them.

Traditional Domino dress uses shedded dragon scales sewn into the fabric or made into jewelry. The royal family's crowns imitate a dragon's horns.

Domino produces some of the most wizards, witches, fairies, and any other bame you can think of for a magic user due to Domino being the home of the Grear Dragon.

Most magic useing Dominions specialize in fire but they all have the ability to learn any type of magic in the natural world. This is due to the fact the magic to creat Domino was progenitor magic.

Onto Domino raised Bloom/an au that never left my head as a child.

In my mind the attack on Domino still happened but Domino went completely isolated after to recover/accidentally just letting everyone think they died

This was a decision made with in mind that one of their biggest allies had turned on them and they don't know why.

For the first 10 years of her life Bloom was taken to Earth with Daphne to hide while their parents made sure everything was safe enough for the girls to resume/start their training.

There they met Mike and Vanessa Peters who become like second parents to Bloom. (Or Vanessa is Oritel's sister who married an man from Earth and Oritel sent his kids there during those first years to protect them. Idk how I want to incorporate Vanessa and Mike yet)

Bloom is still the host to the Dragon's Flame so she's being trained early to be the spiritual leader, something her people desperately needs and the postion mother temporarily held during the war. She's trained by her mother and the priestesses of the Great Dragon.

She's still Bloom though she's still curious about everything and always dtf (down to fight). It's just worse now cause baby is more feral with just being around dragons more than people.

When 3 year old Bloom managed to convince a dragon to let her ride on it while flying Oritel and Miriam knew they were in trouble.

Bloom does have a need to help her people though and goes to them herself helping anyway she can.

This includes Bloom leaving Domino to go to Alfea.

It was a decision that weighed on Bloom for a long time. And it started by a comment Daphne unintentionally made. "We have to open Domino up again eventually. Let all the other realms know we're still here. But are we ready for it?"

Bloom took that to heart, she knew she wasn't ready but she was supposed to help her people through something like this, when everyone would be nervous and one wrong word could create mass hysteria.

Bloom remembers the school her sister and mother talked about fondly, how princesses and fairies from all different realms went. She remembers Daphne said it was good practice for diplomatic relationships.

"I want to go to Alfea," Bloom will announce one night.

Her family seems hesitant on letting her go.

"We have to open Domino back up eventually," Bloom reasons. "Let me start."

Oritel and Miriam agree and Bloom is on her way to the school.

She is not ready for the culture shock.

[timelesslords]

So Under Freezing Stars is finally done 😭I’m incredibly sad it's over but also so happy with the finished product and with the response it's gotten over the past few months <3 

I thought it might be fun to compile some little details about the fic- easter eggs and callbacks to the original books, little thematic details and symbols I included, chapter parallels, stuff like that! Everything is below the cut to avoid spoilers, but hopefully y’all find it fun and it’s an interesting way to top everything off :’) 

Symbolism/Theme

the first time Annabeth drinks nectar, she can’t put a taste to it. This is because she’s in a transitional period with her identity, where she hasn’t quite solidified a sense of home. When she wakes up after being given nectar for the second time, her mouth tastes like apples because her and Perseus had split one together back on the ship. It’s the first food they shared together after she starts associating him with the concept of home, so the nectar takes on that taste. also apples are a sacred fruit of aphrodite so, ya know ;) 

Water plays a big role thematically. There’s the obvious connection to Perseus (whenever Annabeth is looking out into the sea during an unrelated conversation, it’s sort of supposed to indicate that he’s on her mind) but also the more traditional symbolic meanings of water— washing someone/something clean, renewal, rebirth, etc. all of which are themes of the book anyways so it worked out!! Chapters to watch for water symbolism would be 18 and 32 in particular but really anytime there’s an emphasis on the sea

the quote I chose for the epigraph (”Understand this if you understand nothing: it is a powerful thing to be seen”) is from Freshwater by Akwaeke Emezi, one of my favorite books! In the context of Freshwater, this quote is when the main character (spoiler) meets someone from their culture who helps them realize they’re a god. It just felt like a particularly perfect way to start off the story, given how many parallels there are to that moment in Freshwater to the entirety UFS. Even without context it frames the story of one of self discovery, but particularly self discovery in tandem with another, which is exactly what I think UFS is about at its core. Freshwater is an incredible book that I owe so much to in terms of inspiring UFS thematically and I def recommend it, though please look up TWs for it beforehand bc it does contain a lot of triggering content.

another more obvious meta thing, the chapter titles switch from Latin to Greek after Annabeth realizes she’s Greek and not Roman 

Chapter Parallels 

 ch20 is called divinity because Annabeth views the sex as akin to a religious awakening— sleeping with her lover is both an act of worship and a revelatory experience wherein she comes to terms with the godly side of her identity. But chapter 33 is called mortal because the thing that makes them special together isn’t necessarily their parentage or their godliness, it’s their humanity. Gods can’t bare their souls to one another because they don’t have one. But mortals— vulnerable and breakable as they are— have that advantage, and when they sleep together the second time Annabeth is fully cognizant and appreciative of that fact.  

The drooling in sleep thing is obviously a callback to the OG books (it’s such an iconic first line I had to include it somehow lol) but it also has a thematic parallel (one that Annabeth actually points out within the narrative). That was one of the first moments she recognized he was human and not some unattainable figure, so it comes back to her later in ch33 when she's thinking about their mortality

In ch14, Piper offers to fix Annabeth’s hair as a peace offering. In ch33, Perseus untangles her hair for her because the idea of doing it herself is overwhelming for her. I just really like the idea of caring for someone else’s hair being an act of love towards that person :’) 

Easter Eggs/OG Book Callbacks

Blackjack asking for fried dough at the end of chapter 4 is a reference to him always asking for donuts in the original books (yes I did google “did they have donuts in ancient rome” for that lol)

The way they fight the hellhound in ch6 (Percy distracting in the front and Annabeth sneaking around the back) is their go-to fighting strategy in the books, which Percy comments on in BOTL

Obviously Jason passing out every 30 seconds is a reference to Jason getting knocked out like 3x a book in HOO (#brason)

Fai turning into a lizard in the Athens chapter is a callback to Frank the Iguana from MOA

the masthead of the ship being a dragon is meant to be reminiscent of Festus  

Other stuff!

Chapter 16 is named calm and chapter 17 is named storm bc 16 is the calm before the (literal) storm

Annabeth saying “is your head full of kelp” to percy in ch13 is the closest I could feasibly get to her calling him seaweed brain lol. I think in chapter 15 she also comments to herself that she feels like his brain is made of seaweed sometimes <3  

When Annabeth decides to let Jason and Piper wake up on their own instead of waking them up herself in ch32, it’s sort of a callback to previous comments she’s made about Jason not being a morning person. She’s still scared that he’ll be mad at her, and she doesn’t want to exacerbate that by waking him up early because she knows he’s in a worse mood in the morning. 

In the final conversation with Jason, Annabeth says “you’re always too hard on yourself” which is kind of a play on her last words to Luke in the original books (“you always pushed yourself too hard”). I don’t know why but I’ve always really liked that line, it feels very Annabeth, so I wanted to include it somehow. Jason isn’t dying but she does love him like a brother so that felt like a good place for it to go. 

something to generally look out for is how reliable or not reliable Annabeth’s narration is. She’s not like a Holden Caufield where she straight up lies to the audience, but her thoughts and observations are not always the most true version of what’s going on. This is probably most obvious in the Luke conflict (particularly chapters 21 and 23) but also when she has to read other people’s emotions and make assumptions about what they’re thinking based on that. A lot of times she’s straight up wrong and just doesn’t realize it (this is particularly relevant in ch14 lol)

another general thing to look at is chapter titles, particularly in the second half of the book. A lot of times the title of the chapter is one of the main themes of the story and that chapter is either an important plot point for that theme or a resolution of it! 

That’s all I can think of right now! I might update this later if I remember more but this is already stupidly long lol. I would apologize for turning my fic into an English assignment but if you made it this far you probably thought it was at least a little interesting, so 😂 

thank you guys again for reading <3 love you all!

[fuckingthefictional]

Red Stained Dress

Request: “I hope you’re having a wonderful day/evening/afternoon/night! May I request Reader being a cousin to the Shelby’s (mother’s side) and being very very like lady-like, clean, expensive clothes. And one of the boys gets blood on her dress? If that’s alright? Thanks in advance.”

A/N: I made this entirely too angsty for my own good, either way hope you enjoy!

Warning: Graphic descriptions of violence, swearing, blood.

“Mummy what is falling in love like?”

“My darling, it is one of the best things in life. It is special and sacred. It makes life worth living, it makes the world that little bit brighter.”

“When will that happen to me?”

“Time will tell my sweet girl, but be patient- love is always lurking around corner, where you least expect it.”

Your mother was right. It did lurk around the corner and it caught your heart in its grasp and lead you to love. To your husband.

At the age of 20 you went from Y/N Strong to Y/N Massey. Wife of James Massey. You were happy, at peace.

But your mother had failed to explain the complexities of love. That it didn’t come easy. There was darkness and rockiness. And love didn’t always last.

For you it broke in front of you. When your husband was taken on the battlefield- somewhere in France.

And suddenly you were a widow, you were alone.

Your mother and husband had passed. The only person left was your father (if you could even call him that)- Charlie Strong.

On her deathbed your mother had begged you to go and make amends with him. Even going as far to write down his address on a piece of paper for you to keep.

But you hadn’t plucked the courage to do that yet. To you your father was just a man who ran from his wife and child at the first moment he could.

There was only one trait that you shared with that man. And that was your love of horses. You had always had a connection with animals. Horses and dogs in particular would just flock to you- who knew maybe it was in your blood.

“Ms Massey?” A quiet voice interrupted your heavy stream of thought, looking up you saw one of the many maids that worked at the house standing in the entry way to the library.

“Is everything alright Mary?” You asked.

“Ms Carleton has just arrived for you ma’am, she’s waiting for you by the car.”

You nodded, rising from your armchair and taking one last glance at his armchair before you left for the day.

May and yourself were going to a horse auction, you’d been looking forward to it for weeks.

You were both looking for some new horses to take on and train, as well as some new potential clients.

“Stop dallying Y/N!” Your friend’s familiar voice rang out, “The auction starts soon, we’ll miss out at this rate!”

You rolled your eyes towards May, silently dismissing her joking jabs at you.

“We won’t be late May,” You reprimanded, “stop fretting.”

“The clock says otherwise.”

“Ladies like us are never late,” You waves your hands to prove your point, “everyone else is simply early.”

May giggles in response, “if you say so Y/N/N.”

You swatted at your close friend jokingly, you were hoping for a successful, calm day- but trouble always did seem to follow you every place you went.

-

“Ladies and Gents we will start our bidding at 50 pounds.”

The horse auction was surprisingly crowded, it seemed that quite a few people had come to see what breeds could be found at the auction house that afternoon.

It was dwindling down to the last few stallions and the occasional mare. All in all you had been successful in purchasing two stallions and a mare of your own.

The last horse on auction in question was beautiful, it was a stallion- dark and shiny in colour, its legs were long but muscled. A perfect contender for you to train for the races.

You raised your hand in interest.

“50 pounds here,” the auctioneer spoke, looking around at everyone else, “Going once, twice-“

“150 pounds.”

Your head whipped round, looking for the man who was trying to outbid you.

“300” you spoke again.

“500” A murmur rippled through the crowd.

You weighed up your options, it was a lot of money for a single horse- you didn’t want to blow through every single penny you had to your name.

“Going once, going twice-“

“1500 pounds.” A new voice had cut out, there were shocked murmurs erupting throughout the stands of people.

The gavel banged on the table, signifying the final action of the day, as people began to disperse from the auction house- you could finally see the man that had snatched the last horse up.

You knew who it in an instant- it was Thomas Shelby. Your cousin Thomas.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you began to make your way down the stairs with May. Silently you found yourself praying that he hadn’t taken any notice of your presence.

God didn’t listen of course.

“Y/N?”

You took a deep inhale, as you rushed down the stairs to try and escape.

“Y/N!”

Fuck, there was no chance of outrunning them.

You quickly murmered that you would catch up to your friend, before you slipped through the doors arena like stage.

The doors itself open and closed behind you, before it was repeated again.

Here goes nothing I suppose.

You breathed in a shuddering breath as you turned to face your estranged family members.

They were all there. Thomas, John, Arthur, as well as another two men that you didn’t recognise. Not to mention the man that you had long since called your father.

You put on a polite smile, which probably looked far too forced, “Good Afternoon Thomas.”

“What are you-“

“What are you doing ‘ere ‘ey?” Your father cut Tommy off, questioning your motives as his piercing eyes stared into your similar ones.

The action only caused a swell of anger to swirl in her belly.

“I assume the same reason that you are- business.” You spoke simply, biting down on your tongue to keep any more words at bay.

“And what ‘business’ do you have here Hmm?” Tommy’s gruff voice asked.

“Jesus I’m just here to purchase any horses that look good enough to ride professionally- what is your probl-“

“Mr Shelby.”

Everything that happened next, happened all too quickly. Because before you could even register what was happening there was a yell coming from one of your cousins.

“Get down!” John’s voice had cut of your own with a loud yell, as you were suddenly tackled to the floor.

A loud crack rippled through the air as the wooden banister above you splintered into two, a bullet lodging itself in the wall behind it.

You peeled up behind the curtain of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes, “What the fuck?” You screamed in fear, shock melting into every nerve and muscle in your body.

Another gunshot pierced out, as it shattered the large window close by into thousands of shards.

A part of you didn’t want to believe that this was happening- surely it was just a dream? A terrible, horrific nightmare?

Another crack of a bullet being launched sounded close to you, peeping up from behind your quivering hands you saw that it was Thomas who had fired it.

Thomas who had fired a fatal shot into another man’s head. Thomas who had caused the death of a man, who may have had a wife, or a child or a family.

But nothing could’ve prepared you for the sight that was to come next. The sight of your eldest cousin brutally throwing punch after punch after punch at another man’s face.

The sickening sounds of flesh hitting flesh and bones shifting and cracking under the weight of Arthur’s meaty fists continued to echo around the room.

The man’s face slowly becoming mangled into mush, the sand below him becoming stained with crimson blood - you knew you couldn’t take it for a moment longer.

Swallowing your fear, you jumped off of the ground, screaming desperately for Arthur to stop.

You tried to pull him off, only to be knocked backwards onto your back. You felt the air leave your body as you collided with the ground.

You shifted back onto your feet, ignoring the pain surging through your spine. Watching as your father, Tommy and another man ripped Arthur away from the scene.

Crawling over you to the motionless body, you lifted two fingers to his neck. Frantically searching for a pulse. After a few seconds you found one, “He’s still alive- but his pulse is weak, he needs-“

Once again you were cut off by your father, “John take Y/N to the car.”

“What? No!” You protested, “did you not hear me- that man is dying he needs a doctor now.”

Within seconds you felt your body lift off the ground and over someone’s shoulder.

“Stop! You can’t do this!” You were screaming desperately, you voice becoming hoarse “What is wrong with you?”

The feeling of tears running down your face, alerted you to just how upset you felt. You just watched your family kill- like they were predators.

A few short minutes later, you felt your feet finally hit the floor. Looking around you grasped onto the nearest solid object that you could find.

The car was cool to touch and it calmed your raging thoughts for a second before a swell of nausea hit. You wanted to be sick, to cleanse the memories of what you had just witnessed away.

“Y/N...” John’s voice held care, like he was tiptoeing around what had just happened, “About what you just saw.”

“You didn’t see anything.”

You’re head shot up angrily, Tommy stood in front of you, with the rest of the group of men behind him.

“Really because the blood on my fucking dress says otherwise,” you fined, lYou’re fucking insane- you just killed two men, two men who may have had families that will never see them again.” Tears welled up in your eyes, “You should feel ashamed.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, “If we didn’t kill them, they would have killed us.”

“We all have a part to play in this world Tommy- you don’t get to decide who lives, who dies and who tells the story. You’re just a selfish coward who shoots first and asks questions later.”

“Y/N you can’t say that- he’s your family.”

Your head whipped around, quick enough that you swore you could’ve gotten whiplash. It was your father who had spoken those words.

“You don’t get to say anything to me- you do not have that right anymore, you lost that a long time ago,” You jabbed a finger into his scrawny chest, “Family Hm? You lot stopped being my family years ago. None of you came to my wedding, none of your cared when my husband was killed, and you ‘dad’ disowned me before I could walk- so don’t you dare lecture me about family.”

“You’re still apart of this family Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, “Well if that,” you pointed back over to the auction center, “is what being apart of this family is then I have no fucking interest in being apart of it.”

Family isn’t always to do with fucking blood- it is what you make it.

[forever-rogue]

In Name Only - Part 10

A/N: Thank you guys for all the continued support on this series. It’s seriously such a joy to write that I cannot even express it! I’m so glad you all like it too. It means the world! 💕 As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Reader

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: some almost s*x 😌, egregious use of italics, the sweetest prince 💕

IN NAME ONLY SERIES MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-«

The rest of your stay in Hellholt had shifted from awkward and stiff to comfortable and pleasant. It was amazing how quickly things had changed, and much to your delight it was in the right direction. It wasn’t something you could have predicted at first, but you were glad, thankful even, for the change. More importantly, you were happy with the change in your relationship with Oberyn. He was slowly turning out to be, and this definitely not an exaggeration in your mind - everything.

Gone was the awkward tension, and the constant questioning of does he feel the same? No, now you had your answer, as he had his, and you knew. You knew he felt the same. Was it love? Of that you weren’t positive, but you were sure it was something. Maybe it was. You weren’t ruling out any possibilities just yet, and were more than happy to let them play out naturally.

The atmosphere was pleasant now, a happy environment, and everything felt...golden, like the sweetest daylight. You weren’t just an outsider anymore, you had quickly become a part of the family. Family, you came to realize, wasn’t just about sharing blood or a name, it was so much more than it. It was about love, caring, respect, so many more things than just the shallow ties attached to the term. That was something you always understood, but many others, like your mother and most of the Seven Kingdoms didn’t. It didn’t matter whether you were born into a family, family could be found, it could be chosen. Family was what you made it, and this was your family now.

»»————-　♡　————-«

On your last morning of your stay, you found yourself having a late breakfast in the gardens with your two youngest fans, Dorea and Loreza. They had taken to clinging to you like glue, and for a short moment you had been worried that you had taken them away from Oberyn too much, but he had insisted he was getting plenty of time in with them and he was glad that you were bonding with them too. Besides, this time it wouldn’t be months before he (or now you) saw them all again. The older girls had completely opened up to you as well, but their interests were different from that of their little sisters, so they found themselves naturally gravitating towards Oberyn. They were going to be fierce and cunning, just like their father; he was already so proud of them. His eyes practically lit up whenever so much as a word of them was mentioned.

“And you promise we’ll get to plant the flowers before you and Papa leave?” Loreza asked as she popped a handful of berries into her mouth, a few spilling out as she grew eager with excitement. She reminded you of Oberyn in so many little ways, their small mannerisms almost identical. 

“Of course, my little viper,” you promised her, and her dark eyes widened with excitement. You’d gone into the marketplace a few days prior, Oberyn and all the girls in tow, and had found a small stall that sold plants, bushes, and flowers from all over Dorne. Many were little seedlings, but you couldn’t contain your excitement, and ending up purchasing probably many more than you should have. When your husband had seen your face light up with joy, he was loath to stop you. Instead, all six of you had returned home with arms full of new delights, “but you need to be careful and not eat too many berries at once. Otherwise you’ll choke on them, and can’t even enjoy them properly.”

“Sorry,” she grinned sheepishly as you just shook your head, shoulders rising and laughing with light laughter, “Dorea does it too!”

“But Dorea doesn’t try to speak through a mouthful,” Ellaria had come to join you, just in time, looking as effortlessly beautiful as ever. She always looked so regal and elegant, even when she was wearing nothing but a simple gown; maybe one day you’d gain that same poise and elegance. Leaning down to kiss the girls on the crowns of their heads, she offered you a warm smile before sitting down across from you, “how is everyone faring this beautiful morning?”

“Good,” you told her, reaching over and wiping a smudge of yogurt off Dorea’s cheek. She gave you a big grin before going back in for another large bite, and the same thing happened again. You laughed lightly before pointing at her cheek and watching as she hurriedly cleaned it off, “I was just telling the girls that we’ll plant all the new flowers and bushes this afternoon.”

“They’re going to be so pretty Mama,” Dorea said excitedly, “they’re going to grow before the winter and make the garden pretty all winter long.”

“I’m sure they will, sweetlings,” she promised them, affectionately ruffling their dark hair, “you all did an excellent job picking them out.”

“It was definitely all due to them,” you shot them a little wink, “they all picked their favorites, and happen to have a keen eye for the right ones.”

“Did they?” she asked gently, “well I expect you both to do an excellent job planting them and taking good care of them. Now, go and find your sisters and change into different clothes and we’ll all head to the garden. I don’t want you to ruin your nice dresses.”

“Yes Mama,” they echoed, their chubby little hands each reaching for a few more berries before they ran off, giggling among themselves. You couldn’t help but laugh at the two of them, already knowing that you were going to miss your new little friends terribly. Maybe you could convince them all to come to Sunspear soon...you were positive that Oberyn would have no objections.

Ellaria watched them go with a small smile on her face as she grabbed a plate and loaded it up with some of the delicious treats, “they’re excited about working on the garden. Elia and Obella too. They’ve been...in a little bit of a funk lately...they’d definitely missed Oberyn. But I’m glad you’re both here…”

“I am as well,” you promised her, unable to probably express just how much you meant it. Your initially tense relationship with her had quickly dissolved into a budding friendship. Once she realized that you were no threat, meant no harm to her, her children, or Oberyn, she came around and allowed herself to enjoy your company. She had been great, offering you all sorts of insights about Oberyn, and his family, and you felt like you were seeing a whole other side to him. After all, there was plenty of insight that could only come from a former lover. You sat back and relaxed, letting the sun warm you up, “flowers and gardening are a big part of life in the Reach. My father, along with his famous bees,  used to have massive gardens, and he always let me help tend to them. It became such a sacred, special thing that we shared. I always looked forward to it, to sending time with him, and watching everything come to life and grow.”

“Have you seen him much? Since your marriage to Oberyn?” she asked and you stilled for a moment, swallowing the lump that had welled up in your throat. You took a moment to compose yourself, swallowing the lump in your throat before turning to give her a tight lipped smile. She didn’t know...but how was she supposed to?

“No...he’s ugh...he died a few years ago,” you said and she made a small sound of surprise before reaching over the table and took your hand in hers, giving it a warm squeeze, “i-it’s okay. There was no way for you to know. I’ve come to the terms with the fact that he’s gone, but I still miss him. I’m afraid that I will always miss him…”

“I think that’s only natural,” she said gently, “I lost my own mother when I was young too. It’s been so long, but it always weighs a little heavy on our hearts. But as long as we don’t let that stop us from moving on. Oberyn knows the same pain - both of his parents and his younger sister.”

“Yes…” you said softly. He’d mentioned his parents but Elia only in passing. You were curious to know about the Dornish Princess turned Targaryen Queen, but weren’t going to push him to ever talk about it. He would do it on his own when he was ready, if he ever would be.

“I didn’t mean to put a damper on the mood,” she said softly before the two of you exchanged a look that quickly turned into a laugh, “oh a much brighter note, I see you and Oberyn must be getting along very well.”

You felt a flush of warmth wash over you, as you realized that despite your best efforts, you bore a few unmistakable marks on your necks and collarbones. You’d worn a light linen tunic, hoping it would be good enough to cover everything up, but apparently it was no use, at least not to Ellaria’s watchful eyes. You captured your bottom lip between your teeth, gnawing on it as you suddenly found your plate extremely interesting as she gently reached over you and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze with a very knowing little smile.

The greater part of the last week and a half had been filled with rushed words of sweetness and brief, stolen kisses in passing between the two of you. There always seemed to be someone around or clambering for either yourself or Oberyn, allotting you very little alone time. In the evenings, you found yourself retiring shortly before Oberyn, hoping to stay up and talk to him, but despite your best efforts, you were usually fast asleep by the time he returned to your room. He often took it upon himself to make sure you were properly tucked under the covers, always placing a delicate kiss to your forehead before sliding into his own bed. 

You hadn’t done much beside exchanging kisses, which only grew increasingly more heated as time went on. If you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t sure just how much longer you’d be able to stand it, knowing that your desire for him was only going to keep building before it completely exploded. But you were going to broach that subject when it came to it, when the time was right. You knew Oberyn was likely feeling the same way, but he would never take advantage of you, or make you do anything you weren’t ready to. 

But last night, when you’d retired for the evening together, he quickly had you pinned against the door, as soon as it was shut, his lips finding yours effortlessly. One thing had led to another, and before you knew it, you were practically a puddle melting in his arms. His name had rolled off your lips in reverence, like it was the only religion you ended, gods old and new be damned. His mouth was like magic on your skin, each little kiss leaving a burning fire in his wake as he kissed your lips, your jaw, down your neck, where he nipped at the hollow of your throat.

Before anything else could happen, a little knock had come at the door, another bout of the impeccable timing that everyone seemed to possess. Oberyn had sharply exhaled from his nose, releasing his grip on you, but not before giving you one last, sweet, lingering kiss. You straightened your dress before stepping to the side and nodding towards the door. He took a moment to collect himself before opening the door slowly, only to find Loreza standing on the other side, big crocodile tears rolling down her chubby little cheeks.

“Papa,” she said softly, a little stuffed bunny in her hands as she held her arms out to him. He quickly leaned down and scooped her up in his arms, holding the little girl tightly to his chest. He rubbed her back in an attempt to soothe her before pressing little kisses to the side of her side head, murmuring soft reassurances in her ear, “I had a bad dream.”

“It’s okay, my love,” he promised her, his voice softening immediately as he did his best to calm her down. You couldn’t help but melt a little at the sight, a soft little stirring feeling erupting in your stomach. Doing your best to quell it, you reached over and gently mused her dark curls, “you’re safe now. Nothing can hurt you.”

“Will you come with me and make sure its safe?” she asked him in between her little hiccups, her tears having come to a quick halt. Oberyn looked at you momentarily, almost as if asking for permission, which he never needed, of course. Nonetheless you nodded, giving him a quick kiss, pausing to give her one too.

“Come on,” he said softly, “let’s get you all tucked back in and chase those monsters away.”

“Good night, sweet Loreza,” you whispered to her as she gave you a small wave, “take your time, Oberyn.”

He hadn’t returned to your room that night; at first you had waited for him, but you quickly knew that he had undoubtedly fallen asleep in her bed with her, mostly likely telling her a story which had caused the two of them to crash for the evening. You’d fallen into an easy sleep yourself that night, drifting in and out of sweet dreams of Oberyn. It had been some of the best sleep you’d had in ages.

“I...ugh,” you found yourself studying your plate intently, playing with a few berries on it. It reminded you of some of your last kisses with Oberyn - they had been just as sweet, “things have been...going very well.”

“That seems to be the case,” she agreed, with a knowing little smile, “I think everyone can see that. You’re practically glowing lately, both of you. It’s written all over your faces.”

“Yes,” you couldn’t suppress the grin that was stretching across your face, “I suppose I have you to thank for everything, Ellaria. I...I don’t know if I would have been able to speak to him if we hadn’t talked. It was a very helpful push in the right direction.”

“Don’t think of it as a push,” she said softly, “a friendly nudge. I want what is best for Oberyn, always, and you...I can see now that means the two of you together.”

“Whatever you want to consider it, thank you,” you insisted, finding that she was still watching you with a curious expression on her face, “what? Did I make a mess of myself?”

“No,” she promised, “I’m just...and consider this merely a curiosity that you do not have to answer...but have you considered the possibility of children?”

“Oh,” your mouth fell open into a small o as you tried to control your racing thoughts. Had you thought about it? Absolutely. Lately, especially after seeing Oberyn with the twins back in Sunspear and his own girls, it had been at the forefront of your mind. Not that it had changed anything in your mind of course. You didn’t want children...right? But it had definitely stirred something within you, and you couldn’t deny that you had stopped and wondered a few times what a child of yours and Oberyn’s would look like...“no, not really. I’ve never really wanted children of my own. I guess I’ve never had much of a maternal instinct-”

“I’ve seen you with the girls,” Ellaria interrupted with a small laugh, “you definitely have a nurturing spirit. Oberyn told me about the twins as well, the orphanage…”

“Well,” you couldn’t believe he had made it a point to tell her all of this. It warned your heart slightly as you realized just how much care and attention he paid to you, “it’s just...I like children, and care for them. It’s not really...a big deal. Besides, Oberyn already has all of his girls, and I think that’s more than plenty for him…”

“He is a good father, an excellent father,” she agreed, “but there’s always room for more love, for more family...if you should ever feel so inclined. Of course, it is not a suggestion or pressure, a mere observation. Whatever the case ends up being, the girls are lucky to have you in their lives as well. They have many strong women and men in their lives that they have the privilege of learning from - you are no exception.”

“It’s just that I...I-I don’t know if I can have children,” you blurted out suddenly, surprising yourself and her at the same time. You’d never spoken those words out loud before, not even to yourself. But it had been something that had been on your mind for ages ,”I...I was with another man, Waylar, the one I told you about earlier,  before Oberyn, the one I thought was going to marry, and naturally we...had sex.”

“As is only natural…”

“We were young and foolish, never careful, never really paid much mind to the possibility of me falling pregnant. I don’t think we ever once tried to prevent anything from happening. But then...nothing ever happened. I never drank moon tea, and we were never careful. I'm sure I would have, probably should have fallen pregnant at some point. If it was something that could have been a possibility. So I just…don’t think it’s in my cards.”

"Have you ever talked to a Maester or healer about any of this?" Ellaria was leaning and hanging onto your every word. You just shook your head, sitting back in your seat and letting out a long sigh.

"I never could have gone without arousing my mother's suspicion," you admitted, "she didn't know about Waylar for a long time, and once she did, she quickly sent him to the Night's Watch. I don't know if she ever realized we'd had sex. And I just never really thought about children and once I realized it was likely an impossibility, I pushed it to the back of my mind."

"So it is not so much  a lack of desire as it is the idea that you can't," she questioned and you shrugged. You were sure it would have just been the former...but maybe...she had a point. You’d spent so long thinking you could have children...maybe you had claimed to not want any to numb the possibility of never having them. If you didn’t want them it wouldn’t be a disappointment....

"I don't know," you admitted in earnest, "a combination of the two probably. Oberyn and I briefly discussed children, and we kind of just left it at what it is. He's got the girls and I'm okay without any born to me, I’m pretty sure. Getting to know and spend time with his girls is an absolute pleasure, and more than I could ever need."

"They're yours now too, you know," she said as she stood, quickly coming over to you. She gave you a fond look before leaning over and kissing the crown of your head, "they're very fond of you, and it will be impossible to get rid of them. They're like a bad habit you can't quit.”

"I should be lucky to have them as a part of my life," you promised her, "they are already near and dear to my heart."

"And then we shan't keep them waiting any longer," she smiled, holding out her hand to you and helping you out of your chair. You nodded as she looped her arm through yours, "but, and please don't take this as me telling you what to do, but perhaps you should consider going to the Maester, healer someone, now. You have nothing to hide anymore, and it would be good just to get a check up. Sweet girl, even if you have made it up that you do not want any of your own, it is important to take care of yourself as well.”

"Yes," you agreed with a small nod. She had a fair point after all...even if it wasn't to confirm if you could or couldn't have children, it would be a good idea just to have everything looked at. It couldn't hurt anything and if nothing else, it would put your mind at ease, "now, let's go and get dirty and plant some flowers!"

»»————-　♡　————-«

"What's on your mind?" Oberyn's arm found its way around your shoulders as you subconsciously leaned into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. It was getting late, the sun had set and was replaced by the light glow of the moon and lanterns as everyone gathered in the gardens for dinner. The girls were long finished with dinner, running around and playing among themselves as everyone else engaged in jovial conversation.

"Nothing," you said softly, feeling your eyes growing heavier with each passing each second. It had been a long day and a belly full of wine and food wasn't helping either. You tried not to focus too much on the feeling of his fingers tracing soft patterns into your skin, sure that you would combust otherwise, "I was just thinking about how I don't want to leave."

"I feel the same way," he agreed quietly, "I'll miss these little hellions, but they'll be quite all right. It won't be months in between seeing them again."

"I should hope not," you agreed, looking up at him and grinning, wanting to say something else but were quickly stopped by a large yawn. He just chuckled lightly at you, those deep brown eyes watching you with what could only be described as adoration, "oops..."

"It's been a long day and we are departing in the early morrow," he reminded you, "perhaps we should get some sleep."

"Ever the voice of reason," you teased as he kissed your cheek. You reluctantly crawled out from under his arm, standing and stretching as he followed suit, "I suppose we should say our goodbyes now then? I wouldn’t want to wake them up so early, especially if we’re leaving before day break.”

“I think that’s the best idea as well,” he took your hand in his as he led you over to where all the girls were gathered. You could tell they were already getting tuckered out as well, especially Dorea and Loreza. The youngest ones were finding it harder and harder to keep their own eyes open as well.

"Papa!" Loreza exclaimed as soon as she spied Oberyn, stopping what she was doing and running over to him, throwing her little arms around him as tightly as she could. Before either of you could say anything, the small girl turned to you and hugged you just tightly, burrowing her little face into your skirts.

"What's wrong, sweetling?" you asked as you leaned down, gently tucking her loose strands of hair behind her ear. She always had a few tears welling up in her eyes as she frowned at you. Putting your own arms around her, you quickly hoisted her up and balanced her on your hip, "there's no reason to be upset, my love."

"I don't want you to leave," she pouted, her arms snaking around your neck as she held you close, "I'm going to miss you."

"I will miss you too, and so will your Papa," you promised her, "but you will only miss us for a day or so. You've got your Mama, and your sisters and everyone else here."

"Are we not fun enough for you anymore?" Obella teased her sister, laughing as she came over and gently perched a small flower crown on her head, "look I made a pretty crown! I should be your favorite sister...person ever!"

"What about me?" Dorea asked, jokingly glaring at her sister.

"I've got you covered," Elia sang as she joined you, placing a matching crown on her head. The older girls looked so pleased with themselves you couldn't help but smile. They'd become such a welcome part of your life, you really didn't want to say goodbye to them either; although Oberyn had already reminded you that it wasn't a goodbye, it was simply a see you soon.

"We'll miss you too," Elia promised looking between yourself and Oberyn, "who is going to spend their time helping me train? No one knows anything as much as Papa!"

"I think you know what you're doing," Oberyn wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into him and pressing a kiss to the side of her head, "the next time I see you're going to be even better than me."

"Never," Dorea giggled at her sister, shrieking slightly as Elia started to chase after her, eventually managing to catch up and gently tackle her in the soft grass, "no one is as good as Papa!"

"I will be even better," Elia tickled her, causing the younger girl to giggle wildly. You couldn't help but giggle yourself, watching the chaotic scene unfold in front of you. You were going to miss this - them. All of them, including Ellaria.

"Do you really have to leave?" Obella asked softly, looking at you with an expression that so much reminded you of her father, "you can't stay?"

"I'm sorry, my love," he pulled her in right and hugged her tightly, "but do not worry, our separation will only be brief this time."

"Promise?" Loreza mumbled half asleep against your shoulder. You kissed the side of your head and held her close. What you didn't notice was how intently your husband was watching you, his heart melting at the sight of you being so gentle with the small girl. Even if he wouldn't have admitted it, having you get along with his daughters was incredibly important to him. And seeing how well you had bonded with them had stirred something within him...something he couldn't quite explain. But the look of pure love and adoration on his face said it all to anyone who saw it.

"I promise, we both do," you insisted, looking at Oberyn who just only nodded in response, "once we return to Sunspear, you'll have to come and see us. We'll do lots of fun things and you can stay as long as you desire."

"Really?!" Obella's face lit up as you exchanged a quick look with Oberyn as the two of you nodded.

"I think all the excitement got to this one," you said softly, resting your head on top of Loreza's head. The youngest had fallen asleep in your arms, still hanging onto you for dear life. You turned to Oberyn and he rested his hand on your cheek, his thumb delicately swiping over the high point. You leaned into his touch, flourishing under the warm touch of his hand as you wished this moment would never end.

"She has been ready for bed for some time," Ellaria beamed at the two of you as she came over. She glanced at the small girl in your arms, unsure how you didn't see what a natural you were when it came to children. There was something in her that was positive you possessed a strong maternal instinct, no matter how much you had denied it, "Obella, get your sisters and head inside. It's time to get ready for bed."

"Mama..." she said softly before turning to look back at the two of you. Ellaria remained silent but raised her eyebrows and the young girl understood. She sighed lightly before tightly hugging her father, not letting go for a long time. You were sure you saw the gentle glisten of tears in his eyes as whispered soft reassurances into her ear. Once he let her go, she turned to you and hugged just as tightly. She turned to you with light sniffles and whispered, "bye...bye Papa."

She went and fetched her sisters, both of which were also reluctant to say their goodbyes, even if it was only for a short time. You almost wished you could have just told them it was all a joke and you were staying.

Once the older girls were inside, Ellaria gently took Loreza from you, holding the young girl in her arms. She took your hand in her free one and gave it a gentle squeeze, before doing the same to Oberyn.

“Thank you for coming,” she offered her former lover a fond smile as he nodded, his heart feeling both heavier than he would have liked and lighter than it had in some time. He was happy to have come, having been able to spend time with his daughters, his family, but sad to leave. It was never easy to part with them, any of them. Oberyn snaked an arm around your waist and held you close as you tried to blink back your tears, that familiar burning feeling already welling up, “and you as well, sweet one. Despite our initial bit of rocky start, I am glad we have become friends. You are always welcome in our home.”

“Thank you for everything,” you smiled at her, your eyes meeting her dark ones, a bit of unspoken understanding flitting between the two of you. Ellaria had helped you in more ways than you could count, and you were relieved that things had ended so differently than they started, “I’m sure we’ll be taking you up on the offer whenever possible.”

“Of course,” she was glad to hear it, “and I’ll be taking you up on your offer and shipping these little monsters out to you as soon as you’ll have them. Goodness knows I could use a break from them. Peace and quiet, can you imagine? It has been ages since I’ve experienced either.”

“The girls are always welcome,” Oberyn promised, “as are you, Ellaria. You know that.”

“I do,” she promised. You couldn’t help but yawn lightly as the evening had thoroughly worn you down. Oberyn nudged you lightly towards the house, slightly telling you to get inside and head to bed. Jokingly sticking out your tongue at him, you decided that his idea wasn’t half bad as a deep tiredness started to affect your whole body. You gave Ellaria a tight hug, making sure not to disturb Loreza before heading inside for bed, already missing her and all the girls. It was strange, but they had quickly become such a steadfast staple in your life, and you never wanted to know life without them again. 

Ellaria watched you go, a small smile on her face as she turned back to Oberyn. His eyes had been on you the entire time, which was most decidedly not lost on her. She leaned and kissed his cheek, reaching up and letting her linger on the side of his face, “you love her, you know.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answered lamely, barely trying to hide the lie in his voice. She had him hook, line, and sinker, and he knew that she knew. Ellaria probably knew him better than even himself at times. She just raised an eyebrow at him and he chuckled nervously, shrugging his shoulders, “maybe...I don’t know…”

“Perhaps you don’t,” she agreed with a self satisfied little smile, “but I do. Trust me, dear Oberyn. I can see it in you, and I can see it in her too. Give things time and trust me.”

“I’ve learned to trust you over the years, my dear,” he let out a small sigh, a mixture of content and almost fear. He hadn’t experienced any feelings like what he was currently going through for a long time, and if he was being honest, it was scary. Almost like an unknown abyss that he was plunging head first, and he had no clue what to expect at the bottom, “I suppose you are correct, and only time will tell.”

“She’s good for you,” Ellaria promised him, able to admit to herself that he seemed so lively, so happy with you in his life, “I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. Don’t let her go. She has much to teach and you much to teach her. You will grow over the years together, just don’t...don’t think too much about it.”

“When is the last time I overthought anything?” he joked before they both burst into laughter.

“When isn’t?” she teased, “sometimes you don’t have to question everything so much, to analyze it so deeply. Sometimes you have to just let things be. And they will be okay; everything happens for a reason, after all. You were meant to find her and she was meant to find you as well. I know you don’t have much faith in anything, but just trust this.”

He found himself at a loss for words, swallowing the lump in his throat as he only nodded at her. Oberyn was a man of reason and logic; if he couldn’t explain it in tangible terms, he often didn’t believe it. But this? This strange attraction, perhaps even love as Ellaria had claimed, had come out of nowhere and so unexpectedly. He had fallen for you the way you fall asleep - slowly and then all at once.  Although, he supposed, if he was really as smart and keen as he thought he was, he would have realized that  something was bound to happen from the moment he laid eyes on you and almost felt his heart stop. He wondered if you felt the same, back then, or even now. He hoped you did; he hoped you were falling as hard for him as he was for you. 

“Come on,” Ellaria put her hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze, pulling him back into reality and out of his little daydream, “let’s get inside. You need to rest, quiet your mind and body, before your early departure, and I need to get the girls to bed.”

“You always were the one to bring me back to reality,” he said softly as he took her hand, trailing a step just behind her. He was glad that they had reached this point in their relationship - no longer lovers, but friends, the best of friends. Oberyn knew he could never live a life without Ellaria, and now he knew he didn’t have to. It was like everything was slowly, and perfectly falling into place.

“I’ll always be here to catch you,” she promised him, “always.”

»»————-　♡　————-«

You were sitting on the edge of your bed, legs tucked under you as you skimmed a few pages of the book you were reading. It was one from Oberyn’s personal collection that you had thought to grab just before leaving to come to Hellholt. You weren’t completely invested in your reading on this particular evening, simply running over the words as you listened intently for Oberyn’s light tread. 

Eventually you ended up so preoccupied with trying to read, and the hundreds of thoughts in your mind that you completely missed the door opening and your husband stepping into the room.

“Hi,” he said softly as to not startle you, but it didn’t work. You almost dropped the book in surprise, but when you realized it was only him, you closed the book with a snap before turning to him. He was smiling at you, but you could tell there was something on his mind. A slight preoccupied look had crept into his eyes.

“What’s wrong, Oberyn?” you asked, standing up and walking over to him. He just shook his head lightly, watching you with the utmost softness before cradling your face in his hands. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he said nothing as he pressed his lips against yours, letting them linger there for a few moments. When he finally pulled away you just beamed at him, reminding him of just why you were his sunshine, “what was that for?”

“No reason,” he whispered, as you just lightly nudged him towards his bed. You sat back on the edge of yours, which happened to be across from his and watched him intently. He started to strip off his overcoat, followed by his tunic, leaving him in only his trousers. You tried not to stare, but it was hard not to let your eyes wander his body. His skin was sunkissed and golden, lightly freckled throughout, only a few scars marring what you considered perfection. Even with the scars, he was still beautiful, far more than any man you had ever seen before. He must have felt you staring because he turned around with a small, cheeky little smirk as he caught your eye, “what? Cat got your tongue?”

“N-no,” you lied as you felt a wave of warmth wash over you, almost embarrassed to have been caught staring. But this was your husband, you reminded yourself, you were allowed to look. He must have been something because just before he turned around to pull down his blankets, he shot you a wink. You burst into a fit of giggles at the gesture, the butterflies practically bursting in your stomach. 

Standing back up, you closed the door to the balcony, and blew out all the lanterns, save for the one near his bedside. Slowly shuffling towards it, you paused in front of it, trying to take one last good look at him before crawling back into your own bed. Putting your hand on the small table, you leaned down to blow out the flicker, but his large hand worked its way onto your wrist, his grip firm, but tender.

“Leave it,” he insisted in a low voice, barely loud enough for you to hear, almost as if he was unsure of himself, “it can burn itself out.”

“A-are you sure?” with your luck, you could imagine something going wrong and catching fire, “I don’t want to accidentally start a fire…”

“Positive,” he insisted, “that way I can look at you.”

“Oberyn,” his name fell off your lips in a shaky whisper as he let go of your wrist and slowly moved to the other side of the bed. He pulled the blankets back and slowly looked between you and the space he had created. Your breath hitched in your throat as you realized what was happening. Naturally, sharing the bed was something that had often crossed your mind, even more so lately with how much closer and closer you were slowly growing. It was bound to happen  at some point, but it still felt like a huge step, and your heart was racing so fast you were positive he could hear it.

Ever the good man that he was, Oberyn had left you with the choice. He would never, ever, force you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with. But you wanted this, almost desperately so, and it often took up many of your thoughts as you fell asleep at night. To finally get to know what it felt like to lie in his arms? The thought alone was enough to make you burst with excitement. 

Nodding slowly, you brought your lightly trembling hands to the hollow of your throat, untying the bow that held together the light evening robe you had been sporting. You were wearing a very light nightgown underneath, a lovely shade of gold that was lacy in all the right places, and very sheer in others. It still left a little something to the imagination, but there were still nerves present as you let the robe softly drape into a pile on the floor. 

Pausing for a moment, you felt Oberyn’s eyes all over you, taking every little part of you. It didn’t make you feel shy though, and once you caught his eye, you could see that he was observing with nothing but reverence. 

“You are beautiful,” he said softly as you just shook your head, playing it off as you slowly climbed into the large plush bed. Once you were over your initial nerves, you laid down, relaxing and laying your head on one of the soft pillows. He reached down and pulled the blankets back up, helping to ward off the light chill of the cool evening breeze. Oberyn paused and gently touched your face, tracing over your features with a feather light touch, stopping when he reached your lips, “I mean it, sweet sunshine, you are beautiful, in every way.”

“Do you feel obligated to say that because I am your wife and we are sharing a bed?” you mused softly, “because if so, you are under no obligation to say anything. Or do you mean it?”

“Of course I mean it,” he promised firmly, “I am many things, but I am not a liar. I have thought that since I first laid eyes on you.”

“Oh,” you felt warm all over, suddenly glad for only the light bit of illumination that the single lantern allowed, “I....I feel the same way.”

“You think you’re beautiful as well?” he joked lightly, dropping his hand from your face and slowly, gently, draping it over your waist, almost as if he was testing the waters to make sure you were okay with it. You didn’t stop him, melting under the feel of his touch, subconsciously scooting closer to him, “as you should.”

“You are a fool, Oberyn Martell,” you laughed, swatting lightly at his chest, letting your hand linger so you could touch as much of his skin as possible, “I do not think more highly of myself than I need to. But you? You are the most handsome Prince of all. The rumors did not do you justice, they never captured the full extent of your beauty and grace.”

“Now who is flattering who?” he asked as he pulled you closer, causing you to laugh, the sound already beloved by him, like sweet music reaching his ears. 

The two of you laid in silence for some time, watching each other with curious, inquisitive eyes, letting your hands roam, but keeping it sweet and pure. You would be lying to yourself if you said you said you hadn’t thought about this, about making love to him, many times before. But not tonight. No - this felt right. The rest would come later...there was no reason to rush anything. For now, this was perfect, this was everything.

You exchanged a few lazy, slow kisses as you felt your eyes and body getting heavier and heavier with sleep. Eventually, despite your best efforts, you fully succumbed to sleep, all the while Oberyn watched you with what could only be described as pure adoration. He pushed a few stray hairs off your face before pressing light butterfly kisses to your forehead, cheeks, nose, and stopping at your lips. You made a small sound, but your eyes remained closed as he pulled you against his chest, his arm wrapped tightly around you. 

Oberyn couldn’t even remember the last time he had been this happy, this content before. He closed his own eyes, letting out a small sigh as he realized how much his heart had been calling for this. How his soul had been searching for yours for so long. Now that he finally had it, he was never going to let go.

“Good night, sweet girl,” he whispered softly so only he could hear it, despite the fact that you were already fast asleep, “I love you.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @secretsweetscollectionblog​  @sheridans-dynamos​   @rogerfxckingtaylor​  @queenbbarnes  @persephonesnebula @spacedustmazzello  @queenlover05  @ah-callie  @blushingwueen  @thisis-theway @el-lizzie  @rosetophighlander  @rae-gar-targaryen    @hiscyarika  @readsalot73  @huliabitch  @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd  @beepbeepsephy  @gooddaykate  @scarlettwitcher  @nerdyknightwritersblog  @choicesarcade  @arrowswithwifi  @everythingaboutnothingstuff  @24kgolden  @suckerfor-fanfics​  @bestintheparsec​ @pedrosdoll​  @winters-buck @javihoney​  @aeryntheofficial​  @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction​ @aeryntheofficial​  @asgardianvamp21​  @keithseabrook27​  @karmezii​  @dearspacepirates​  @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou​  @shameless-pope @paintballkid711​

INO Taglist: @captainskyline​  @scarlettvonsass  @hail-doodles​  @unadulteratedneckherolover​ @the-cult-classic-bitch  @adlerorzel-blog​  @rika-cchi​  @theocatkov​  @little-ms-fandom  @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou​  @whiskeyxinxaxteacup​  @shayna-winchester​  @xxlovingfandomsxx​  @ohsnapitsjanet  @talesfromtheguild​  @phoenixhalliwell​ @roxypeanut​  @imnotmentallyst4ble​  @catsnkooks​  @misslolasworld​  @lalablue0​  @starlight-starwrites​ @cielphantomhixe​  @lady-tano  @simonedk​  @asgardianvamp21​  @earthtokace​  @thelastemzy​  @indelwen-of-mirkwood​  @gamingaquarius​  @maytheglitter​  @apples-of-february​  @prettyjewel93​  @valhallavalkyrie9​  @hystericalmedicine​  @miraelles  @ohpedromypedro​ @afleetingdream91​ @cheesecake-manufacturer @cryptkeepersoul​  @onlineluna​  @littlefool-smalljester​  @imnotmentallyst4ble​ @shelbythequeen​ @witchstarw​ @mrscrain-x7​  @songsformonkeys​  @kiaralein​  @liadamerondjarin​  @purpletoadslimeeclipse​ @rpcvliz​ @rpcvliz​ @knittingqueen13​  @jaime1110​  @voteforpedropascal​ @demoncrypt1066​ @klaine-92​ @goth-pigeon​ @rogueonestan​ @kiwibaekie​​

[wallgirl]

The Little Nereid Part 12

Record of Ragnarok fanfiction

Poseidon x OC

Word count: 2,200

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful. Loving someone like Poseidon is not easy period, let alone as your first love. But Dynamene is young and naïve, and all she wants is a chance to be at the sea god’s side.

Categories and warnings: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending, slow-burn (ish); no sexual content. There will be some graphic violence in the future.

Updated regularly; will have about 18 parts total.

—

It was still dark out when Dynamene arrived at the temple. Dawn was just breaking over the horizon, the ocean calm. Still soaking wet from head to toe, she left puddles of water with each trudge up the sizable hill where the temple overlooked the sea. She had never been to a human temple before. It was less grand than she had imagined, though still tall and stately. It was impressive as far as human architecture went, she supposed.

She entered hesitantly, feeling almost embarrassed to be tracking water into a sacred, if humble, place. In the room at the center of the temple stood Aphrodite's cult image. It was roughly life-sized and hewn from wood, with a delicate cloth draping it modestly. Dynamene suppressed a smile when she saw it; it was much less curvaceous and delicate looking than the real goddess. She approached it gingerly, not sure what to do next.

Most humans that came to temples to ask something of the gods brought an offering, she knew, but she hadn't the faintest idea what to present. She was entirely empty-handed, save for the thin chiton she wore and her treasured bracelet, neither of which she was about to part with.

After a few minutes of pondering, the answer came to her - Aphrodite was the goddess of beauty, too, not just love. Dynamene's hands went to her two braids. Would she accept her hair as an offering...? Surely there was little more a woman could give in way of sacrificing her beauty.

She picked up a sharp seashell from the altar and aligned it with the base of the first braid, against her neck, and took a deep breath. Her hair had been long her whole life, but it would grow back, right?

Before she could even make the first cut, there was a deafening clap, and she was surrounded by white light.

When the light cleared, she was no longer standing in the dim inner room of the temple. A strange burning sensation lingered on her skin before quickly subsiding. Dynamene hesitantly lifted her head.

She was in a vast room with golden floors and roses of every color climbing the frescoed walls. A giant fountain, several times her height, stood ahead to her right. It bubbled and gurgled merrily, the white foam so bright that she could hardly look at it. A handful of small cherubs tended to bunches of pristine lilies that floated serenely in the bottom pool. And to her left, reclining on a golden couch inlaid with diamonds and pearls, was a statuesque woman with golden waves and wide eyes.

"My, you weren't really going to cut your hair, were you?" Aphrodite cried, staring at Dynamene with alarm. "I may be the goddess of love as well as beauty, but I'll let you in on a secret - no woman should sacrifice her looks for a man."

Dynamene immediately turned red. "I... I apologize." She tucked the shell away awkwardly into the fold of her chiton. "Um, where am I?"

"You're at my palace, on Mount Olympus," Aphrodite proclaimed. She smiled at Dynamene and tilted her head. "I've been waiting so long to speak with you. Come, sit!"

Mount Olympus?! Dynamene had been here before on a few occasions to accompany Poseidon as part of his court, but only to the common grounds. Each of the twelve Olympians had their own estate and palace that they designed and furnished to their liking, most filled with opulence and treasure that lesser beings could barely dream of. To think that she should now find herself in one was incredible.

Aphrodite snapped her fingers. A couch that matched her own appeared next to Dynamene, as well as a table with cups and a jug of some mysterious liquid. "You must be famished. You've had quite the journey; sit, sit!"

How could she know that? Dynamene settled nervously onto the couch and smoothed the bottom of her dress. She was all too aware of how bedraggled she must look, especially in such an exquisite place. The upholstery became dotted with dark spots of water from her damp hair.

Aphrodite snapped her fingers, and Dynamene's clothes and hair dried in an instant. "There we are. More comfortable?"

"Um, yes, thank you." Dynamene touched the bottom of her braid in amazement. The jug on the table before her poured itself into her cup, and she brought it to her mouth with both hands. Something incredibly sweet and steaming hot flowed into her lips.

"That's nectar. Careful you don't drink too much, it'll cause indigestion. Now then, you've called upon me for help," Aphrodite beamed and moved upright, crossing her legs. "I'm overjoyed, to say the least." She rested her chin elegantly on the thumb and pointer finger of one hand.

"You are?" Dynamene felt completely lost.

"Yes! I've been following your adventure ever since things began to really heat up a few weeks ago. Your birthday, to be precise. How exciting! I haven't seen a love story this gripping in centuries."

Dynamene almost dropped her cup. "Following me?! Do you mean you've seen everything that's happened since then?"

"Well, the juicy bits, yes. As the goddess of love, I can tune in on any love affair or infatuation I desire. Most are a bit boring, nowadays. But you... Your feelings for Poseidon... It's such a delight! What a turn of events! I'm quite invested." Aphrodite giggled.

Dynamene's face continued to burn red. "I... I don't understand."

Aphrodite sighed and leaned back once more. "Ah, Poseidon... such an enigma. Such a tall, dark, and handsome man... Such an incredible body... But such a wretched personality."

Dynamene flinched.

"He really is a delight to look at, though, isn't he?" Aphrodite sighed, her gaze turning dreamy. "There was a time when I thought I might add him to my body count... But his stifling demeanor quickly dispersed that idea from my head. Such a foul attitude."

Dynamene felt a different kind of heat rise up from her neck to her ears, and her gaze narrowed before she could hide her feelings. Aphrodite laughed in response.

"Oh, don't worry! I'd never touch him now; such a cold fish. Not the type to be a considerate lover, at any rate. An ice statue of a man," she scoffed. Her gaze moved back to Dynamene with curiosity. "But you love him anyway!" Aphrodite leaned forward once more, her eyes wide.

Dynamene stared at her lap, completely overwhelmed. "I... I do." Her voice sounded so small, even to herself.

"Tell me about it! How did it happen? What was it that made you fall for him? I want to know everything!"

"Um..." Dynamene swallowed hard. She could see him clearly in her mind's eye; that piercing gaze and chiseled body. She remembered the way his body had shadowed hers in the dark on the beach. What was it...

Aphrodite smirked, as if she knew exactly what Dynamene was thinking. "Yes, handsome, that much is a give-in. But what else? There has to be something drawing you to him."

"Well..." Dynamene racked her brain. "He's incredibly powerful, and smart. He knows his realm so well..."

"That's a start, I suppose," Aphrodite clicked her tongue. "But men like that are a dime-a-dozen. And that won't keep you warm at night."

"What?" Although Dynamene had no idea what she was getting at, she had the feeling it was something rather uncouth.

"Oh, I apologize. You're a virgin, right? You're inexperienced in these matters." Aphrodite took a dainty sip from her own cup. "Those qualities are all nice and fine, but there's nothing romantic or passionate about them. Not things that really light the flame of love, as it were."

Dynamene was silent for a moment, staring at her hands. She thought of the way he'd spoken with her on the beach, and the way he'd gone out of his way to show her the wonderful things he saw underwater. "He shared his power with me... He used it to show me all the things he could sense in the ocean. It was amazing, and so nice. He held my hand... and I didn't want him to let go."

"So that's it!" Aphrodite said triumphantly. "He made you feel special. He gave you a glimpse of something he's never shown anyone else."

Dynamene smiled wistfully. "And then, he promised me another bracelet... He's never given me anything besides on my birthday. It must mean something. He's never done that for anyone before."

"The frigid tyrant is finally thawing," Aphrodite pondered, swishing her cup. "Maybe he won't spend eternity a virgin, after all," she snickered.

Wait... Does she mean me and him...? Dynamene hid her face in her hands. Oh, no. This is too much. What am I doing here?!

"So he is getting sweet on you, then." Aphrodite threw her head back in laughter. "Oh, I can't believe it; that a day like this would come! It's too much."

"Well... not sweet, exactly, but..." Dynamene rubbed her arm.

"Not sweet?" Aphrodite rose one eyebrow. "He didn't kill you when he had the opportunity. That's quite the gesture of fondness for him, really."

Dynamene blinked, struck speechless.

"Now, then," Aphrodite continued, her voice taking on a more business-like tone. "As far as directly helping you, there's little I can offer. Poseidon would have my head if he ever found out I was interfering in his love life, and that wouldn't do." She sighed rather theatrically.

"Oh." Dynamene's shoulders sank. Then it was all for nothing.

"But..." Aphrodite continued with a mischievous smile. "That doesn't mean I can't point you in the direction of someone who can help you. I've heard through the grapevine that there's a witch not far from Poseidon's estate who does spell work for those who are willing to pay the price. She lives in one of the deepest undersea trenches. I'm sure she'd be happy to strike a deal with you."

"A witch?" Dynamene had misgivings about this immediately. Witches didn't exactly enjoy the highest of praises within the Greek pantheon's society. "Aren't a lot of them shady?"

"They are. But you're clever enough, and there's no guarantee that this witch will be as seedy as the rest. Just keep your wits about you. All you need is something to convince him to make a commitment to you. I understand Hera gave you a blessing during her latest visit."

Dynamene remembered the gilded pomegranate. "She did."

"Something about a guaranteed happy union, correct? She told me about it. There's your ticket to a happy ending; you just need to secure the union in the first place."

Dynamene smiled. "You're right. It was very kind of Hera to give me a blessing. I was so surprised."

"She didn't do it out of the kindness of her heart," Aphrodite sighed, giving her curls a shake.

Dynamene's smile froze. "What do you mean?"

"Hmm..." Aphrodite puffed her cheeks, weighing her next words. "I'll let you in on a little insider's secret: she wants Poseidon married to force a crack in his armor."

Dynamene stared at her. "Pardon? His armor?"

"If Poseidon gets married and has a family, he'll have a weak spot. Hera knows that Poseidon is feared more than Zeus, and she loathes the possibility of him holding more influence. She wants to have a way to keep Poseidon in line. That's why she gave you that pomegranate." Aphrodite shook her head, wrapping a curl of hair idly about one finger.

Dynamene's head was spinning as she tried to put two and two together. "But... the blessing would be useless to her purpose unless she knew that one of us liked the other. So how...?"

Aphrodite giggled mischievously and gave Dynamene a wink. "I guess I'm not always the best secret keeper myself."

Dynamene stared at her, aghast. Hera would use me as a tool to get to Poseidon? Her eyes darted back and forth anxiously. I'm so stupid. Of course she wouldn't give a random blessing like that out of kindness; that's not how the Olympians usually function.

"Don't fret too much, dear Dynamene." Aphrodite's eyes darkened above her smile. "It doesn't really matter what the future after your union holds; not how miserable of a man Poseidon is, or what your relationship turns out to be. If you marry him while holding that blessing, you'll be happy no matter what your situation is."

Dynamene's gaze searched the goddess's face. Why did it seem like Aphrodite's expression was almost one of pity?

Happy... even if I shouldn't be?

"Rest assured, I am rooting for you, little Nereid. Now go; I'll send you near the witch's home. Or, at least where I think it is." The goddess of beauty shrugged her delicate shoulders.

White light enveloped Dynamene once more, and she braced herself. Before Aphrodite's palace disappeared, she heard the goddess call out one last time: "In exchange, I expect to be the first to know about your wedding night!"

---

Author’s notes:

Did you know, when I started this fanfiction, I planned it to be 4 parts and about 9000 words?

I am now past 32000. Help me.

Things are coming to a head, stay tuned.

[mimisempai]

Every time I look at you, I fall in love again

Summary:

As he gazes at his sleeping lover, Loki remembers the moments where he fell in love with Mobius.OrFive times when Loki's heart pounded in a special way and once when it pounded in a familiar way.

Notes:

Tumblr request : a 5+1 - it could be about moments in their relationship where Loki falls more in love w/ Mobius

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32821156

2084 words - Rating G

1.

For once, Loki woke up this morning before Mobius.

Leaning on his hand, he took the opportunity to watch his beloved while he slept.

As he gazed at the sleeping features of his lover, he was once again taken aback by the strength of his feelings.

Loki had little or no experience with love, so he had nothing to compare to what he was experiencing with Mobius right now.

No one had made him feel the way the man made him feel.

It was as if Mobius had wrapped his roots around Loki's heart little by little but without imprisoning him.

Mobius' love had set him free.

In return, Loki's feelings had taken root in Mobius' constancy.

Sometimes Loki liked to think about how his feelings had developed, because it had all happened so quickly that he had never been able to enjoy those stolen first moments.

It would be hard for Loki to say exactly when he had begun to notice that his relationship with Mobius was different from any relationship he had had before, but what he was sure of was that no one had ever been able to see through him as quickly as Mobius.

"I don't like to talk."

"But you do like to lie, which you just did. Because we both know you love to talk. Talkie-talkie."

Honestly, at that moment, Loki thought fondly, if he hadn't been so angry at being found out, he would have laughed.

As a matter of fact, it had become a fond memory for them. Whenever Loki would go into one of his grandiloquent tirades, Mobius would simply make this little gesture with his hand and would mouth "Talkie Talkie"

" You don't know anything about me.

"Maybe I'd like to learn."

It was probably at that moment that Mobius had begun to touch something in Loki that no one had ever touched. The fact that anyone would even bother to genuinely learn about him was in itself new. Except for his mother and Thor, most people had always assumed the worst of him.

"Honestly, I'm actually a fan. Yeah. And I guess I'm wondering why does someone with so much range just wanna rule?

Mobius had been the first to make him question himself.

Of course, at the time, he was not at all receptive to what Mobius' words really meant.

It had taken him some time to admit the truth.

The moment he had admitted it, the naked truth, without any more artifice, he had been ready to receive the final blow, the ratification of his vileness, but no, nothing like that.

"Because it's part of the illusion. It's the cruel, elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear."

"'A desperate play for control.' You do know yourself."

"A villain."

"That's not how I see it."

That's not how I see it.

At that moment, Loki's heart had pounded for the first time.

The man in front of him had seen all the lowliness that Loki was capable of and yet he did not see him as a villain.

From the first hours of their meeting, he had made it impossible for Loki not to love him and from then on, his feelings had grown exponentially.

2.

As he walked down the path of his memories, Loki continued to gaze at Mobius as he slept. A small miracle in itself for Loki.

Knowing who Loki was, Mobius slept in his presence. The perfect image of absolute trust.

Loki sometimes still had trouble feeling worthy of such trust.

Seeing him sleeping like that, he thought of the day when he himself had first fallen asleep in this way with Mobius.

The day he fell a little more in love with Mobius.

It started with Mobius taking the blame for the failure of their first mission together, when it was all Loki's fault. They could have just pruned him, but no, Mobius had pleaded his case to Ravonna.

Then Loki had presented his theory to Mobius, admittedly with a rather shaky metaphor, even ruining one of his lover's favorite dishes.

"Well, here's a fun theory. You lure me out into the field, and then you stab me in the back. And that's a theory I don't wanna test."

"I'd never stab anyone in the back. That's such a boring form of betrayal."

"Loki, I've studied almost every moment of your entire life. You've literally stabbed people in the back, like, 50 times."

"Well, I'd never do it again, because it got old."

Mobius laughed and chose to follow Loki's theory, even though Loki had given him no reason to believe in him until now. Even though his theory was based on almost nothing, Mobius had chosen to believe Loki.

Then they returned from Pompeii and something happened that had never happened to Loki, he had fallen asleep. Loki, who was distrustful of everything and nothing, had simply fallen asleep in the presence of someone he hardly knew. As if his heart had understood before his mind that he had nothing to fear from Mobius.

When Mobius had woken him up, Loki's heart had pounded for the second time, and it wasn't fright that had caused it, but the realization that Loki was falling in love and falling deeply.

3.

As he looked up from his contemplation of Mobius, Loki's gaze fell on the photo that lay on his nightstand. A memory of their first vacations, when Mobius had finally realized his dream. In the middle of the paradisiacal decor of an island in Midgard, Loki had taken this photo of Mobius piloting -at last- a jetski. So much joy on his face.

Another thing that made Loki fall in love a little more: the passion of his lover for some small insignificant things.

Josta, salad, jet-ski...

"You know, some things... Actually, most things in history are kinda dumb, and everything gets ruined eventually. But in the early 1990s, for a brief, shining moment, there was a beautiful union of form and function, which we call the jet ski, and a reasonable man cannot differ."

"You ever been on one?"

"No... No. I think a TVA agent showing up on a jet ski on the Sacred Timeline, that would create a branch for sure."

"Oh it'd be fun, though."

"Yeah, it'd be really fun."

"So, why read about them?"

"It just helps remind me of what we're fighting for."

The expression Mobius had had at that moment, when he had said something like that with such candor had made Loki fall even more.

And his heart had pounded for the third time.

While he had sensed that what would happen next would destroy what Mobius believed in, Loki had not been able to stop himself from wanting to protect him and his happiness, and to hope that one day he would be able to realize his dream.

With his eyes on the photo commemorating a very real memory, he felt a sense of satisfaction, because his lover had been able to realize this dream and Loki had been there to witness it.

4.

"Loki... Don't go..."

Loki's eyes returned from the picture to his lover, whose features were now tense, probably from a nightmare.

"I'm here love, I'm not leaving. I'm staying with you."

Saying this, Loki gently strokes Mobius' cheek and his expression immediately relaxes. After a few seconds,he was sleeping peacefully again.

Loki didn't need to read Mobius' mind to know what he had dreamed.

He had known that he had taken a huge risk when he had decided to follow Sylvie and he had known that the reunion with Mobius would not be easy.

After all, he had betrayed him. But of all the acts of betrayal that Loki had been guilty of, this was the one that had cost him the most. Because of the feelings he was beginning to have for Mobius.

But what he hadn't imagined was that Mobius would almost turn into a jealous lover, even though at that point they didn't have that kind of relationship at all.

Loki had been incredibly surprised that it wasn't Loki's betrayal that had hurt Mobius the most, but the fact that he had made a connection with Sylvie.

"Come on. Look at your eyes. You like her."

"You like her. Does she like you?"

"Both of you were just swooning over each other."

"It's breaking my reality right now. What an incredible seismic narcissist. You fell for yourself."

"I'm supposed to believe your terrorist girlfriend"

"What, your female self that you have some demented crush on…"

Loki's heart had pounded for the fourth time when he realized what it could mean. He had fallen a little more at the thought of Mobius, at the thought that the man might be jealous, at the thought of what it might mean about Mobius' feelings for him.

5.

Then there had been that moment of grace, the exact moment when Loki had known that he was definitely in love with Mobius.

For the first time, when everything was against him, someone had chosen to believe in him. That someone was Mobius.

Even though he was clearly angry with Loki, he still listened to him and chose to believe him.

Despite Loki's attempts at manipulation, betrayals, and mistakes, Mobius renewed his faith in him and spoke those words that were imprinted in Loki's head.

"You could be whoever, whatever you wanna be, even someone good. I mean, just in case anyone ever told you different."

Loki's throat tightened as he was overwhelmed by the emotion of the memory.

Mobius had no idea how many wounds he had healed in Loki at that moment.

After what Loki had done, where Odin and Thor had not forgiven him, not only had Mobius forgiven him but even more amazingly, he had shown that he believed that Loki was capable of being good, of doing good.

At that moment, Loki's heart did not pound once, but thousands of times, at full speed.  Because of the joy and love that filled it.

The sudden disappearance of Mobius just afterwards had been all the more cruel. Because at that moment, they didn't know about the Void and Loki had thought Mobius was lost forever. He had been devastated.

He couldn't help but touch Mobius' face, gently so as not to wake him, then he whispered softly, "You too Mobius, do not ever leave me."

+1

They had found each other again.

When he first saw Mobius after he thought he had lost him, it only confirmed Loki's feelings for Mobius.

The way his heart had pounded at the sight of the one he loved was impossible to ignore.

So when they had to part once again, Loki had not been able to resist the pull of his heart, and instead of grabbing Mobius' hand, he had taken the man in his arms.

Loki had held Mobius in his arms many times since that moment, but he would never forget the feeling of that first hug. The feeling that the universe was in place. That he was where he belonged, that he was home.  He had expressed without words all that he felt and Mobius had answered him in the same way. They had to part again, but this time the bond between them was undeniable and unbreakable.

They had to go through a lot to finally enjoy their love, without the sword of Damocles, without the threat of the end of the world, or of a multiversal war over their heads, but they had made it. They were here now.

With each passing day, Loki fell a little more in love.

The Midgardian saying, I love you more than yesterday and less than tomorrow, had become his.

Because every time he looked at Mobius and realized the love they shared, he felt like it was stronger.

Mobius moved in his sleep, making the sheet slide off his shoulder.

Loki could not resist and leaned over to kiss the bare shoulder. Mobius woke up and turned to face Loki with a sleepy smile on his lips.

"Hey there handsome," Mobius whispered to Loki, gently kissing Loki's cheek. Loki's heart fluttered in a familiar way now, at such gentleness and at the adoration he read in his lover's eyes.

"Hey love," whispered Loki.

Mobius kissed him, his lips pressing lazily against Loki's. Loki smiled and kissed him back, happy.

Together they enjoyed the delights of a perfect, quiet morning.

_________

All other one-shots of this series here : X

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

[yukipri]

Bad Batch end of season thoughts/ramble, bc it's been a week and I just wanna get it all off my chest...

(end of season spoilers and very disorganized rambling)

First off, I do want to say that I enjoyed watching the show. It fulfilled its primary purpose: entertainment. It was nice having something to look forward to every week, and even though it wasn't quite what I was expecting, it was fun. The animation was gorgeous, I liked all the references and tie ins. I will likely watch it again, and will watch season 2. This is by no means meant to be a hate post.

That being said, it is critical so please just skip if you're not into that!

The thing is...it takes very, Very little for me to love a clone. He doesn't need lines, or a face, or even a name, and the default is that I will love him. He can even be a little bastard, like Slick, and it's fine. I always want to know more about them, and wish they had more screen time and time in general to develop their characters. So given that we were getting 16 (20 eps total if we count TCW S7 pilot arc) centered around these guys, I was expecting to absolutely adore them by the end.

And I wanted to love the Bad Batch, I wanted to love them so damn much, and I tried. But I think one of the reasons why they never fully clicked for me was that their thing seems to be "we're unique, we never fit in, we're outsiders in our own home, among the people who are supposed to be our own family, and so we've found our home with each other."

Which! That's usually a wonderful message, and not a particularly rare or unique one either for stories! I usually dig these kinds of stories!

The problem here is the extremely unique situation of the clones. They are literally created to be identical, brain washed to be uniform. They must conform, or are killed off by their creators, and their conformity isn't a choice in the slightest, but one of fear and necessity.

Their uniformity is something that they are also entirely aware of--it's unavoidable, they're clones. Once out in the real galaxy, they all strive to find and establish unique identities for themselves, struggling against a galaxy that just wants them to be faceless products. It's a shared struggle, and all they have are each other, and their brotherhood is sacred as a result. Shunning unique identity is the opposite of who a clone is--it's what they all want.

So on one hand, it's understandable that the Batch stuck out (when all others who would have also stuck out were culled, when individuality isn't allowed). It's understandable that they would have yearned for the brotherhood shared by the other clones, and when they couldn't have it, they stuck closer to each other. It's even understandable that they would feel bitter, having experienced bullying at the hands of the other clones (but isn't it also understandable that the other clones would feel bitter that the Batch gets special treatment, when their own brothers with less-than-beneficial mutations were taken by the Kaminoans to never return?).

And so we have this batch of clones, who the Kaminoans call "mutated," but also specify that their mutations are "desirable" (implying what happens to mutations that are undesirable...). They have their own unique unit, in which they're able to improvise and act freely with seemingly little to no oversight, so long as they complete their mission. No Jedi to obey, no nat-born officers who look down on them. In fact, they look so different from standard clone troopers that most of the galaxy probably don't even know they are clones. They have their own ship (personalized), they have their own possessions (which we don't really see any other clones have), they have their own barracks (probably also very unique), and they even have access to superior weapons and armor (most of the Batch, minus Echo, seem to be wearing modified Katarn-class armor which is supposed to be for Commandos. we KNOW it holds up better than standard trooper armor).

So I'm sure they had some unpleasant experiences growing up, and I do get it. But at least at "present" end of clone wars, they honestly seem to be living infinitely better than all other clones? They still need to follow orders but they have more freedom, and perhaps most importantly, they have clear uniqueness that is denied almost all other clones. And yes, some of the clones on Kamino bully them, but we've seen NONE of the "regular" clones that we know to be particularly nasty to them, and in fact it's Crosshair who starts it by calling them "Regs."

And how does the Batch respond to this situation? By acting superior. It's Crosshair who says and it believes this firmly, and I do feel that the others are likely mostly influenced by this, but it's also true that Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech don't really deny this either. They don't like the "regs," they do act like they're "better." Poor Echo, who they repeatedly seem to forget is in the room, and who they call "machine" and such...yikes yo

So I guess the point is, I just really struggled to feel sympathetic towards them, and was already on a kinda eh about their premise. They're marketed as "the special clone squad"--and yet they're not nice to the clones I love. I thought that wasn't great, but also hoped that the series would work towards them understanding the other clones better, and I love character development so that woulda been fine--but, nothing. A glance from Hunter at Howzer. Extended camaraderie from Gregor, who I feel they mostly just tolerate for the mission, other than Echo who genuinely cares.

And on top of feeling not feeling particularly sympathetic towards what I saw as a pretty privileged group of clones, the Batch seems to place primary blame of their woes on the "regs" themselves, who again, honestly seem far worse off! There isn't blame directed at the people who demanded the conformity from the other clones in the first place, that made it so the Batch couldn't fit in. The Batch was modified due to the Kaminoans (and implied specifically Nala Se). She's the reason why they don't fit in. And the Kaminoans are also why the other clones have to be so uniform, why they must fight to be people and not products.

Bitterness and pettiness can be fine in characters. But it's frustrating to see in a group supposed to be competent and elite, especially when those feelings have consequences. Sure, it sucks when someone throws a food tray at you. You can throw food back. It's not an equal reaction to feel no remorse when you shoot that guy dead in a blaster fight, when for all other clones, having to kill another clone is one of the most horrible, tragic things that one can do (thanks, Umbara).

Fives was the only clone to actually point a blaster at Nala Se.

We know Omega has deeply personal history with Nala Se. She was Nala Se's personal medical assistant. We see her cry when she takes off her head ornament that matches Nala Se. We know that being back in the lab gives Omega complicated, and probably not entirely positive feelings. But we barely learn more about this relationship, other than these glimpses.

And I get the feeling that to Omega at least, Nala Se wasn't all terrible. If Omega grew up with mostly only Nala Se for company, she had to have gotten her sheltered outlook on life, and her willingness to help others from somewhere. Nala Se intentionally let Omega go, to be "safe."

I think Omega's adorable, and I do like her. But I wasn't able to fully love her to the extent I wanted to, because there was always the fear that she was involved in the creation and implantation of the chips. She knows about them, she would have been positioned to do so. I want to think she would never, and I was hoping the show would reassure us of that, but it never did. We don't actually know how Omega feels about Nala Se, or even the chips and their presence in other clones. Instead, all we know is that Omega doesn't like "regs."

And again, "they call me lab scrubber," and "I helped put (or am complicit in putting) mind control devices in their heads," are kinda, unequal. Again I hope it's not the case. But it definitely kept me feeling uneasy throughout the show.

It really boils down to I don't trust or forgive Nala Se, and the Batch's lack of stance against her and the other Kaminoans, and clear distaste for their other clone brothers, really puts them in a situation that makes it difficult for me to take their side entirely.

And then gosh, Hunter. During Crosshair's whole "you never came back for me," spiel, I couldn't help but think he's kinda right. He had 15 episodes. Sure, it's difficult to get Crosshair back. But they could have done something. They could have done research. We could have had scenes of them wondering where Crosshair is, discussions on how best to find him, even if that discussion ended in, "but we can't risk it right now." They could have grilled Omega for information on the chips, which they really shoulda done either way, but especially since that knowledge is important to understanding what (they thought had) happened to Crosshair. Instead, they just ran every time Crosshair showed up. The show could have done better to show that they cared, and were trying, instead of just, y'know, doing chores for Cid. One, "I kinda miss him," doesn't really count as working on getting him back, at least in my books.

The sole exception to all of this, of course, is Echo. Who really, he works with the Batch fine, he's a former ARC and can more than keep up. Skillset-wise, he fits in well enough. But this season really made me wonder why he's with them at all. Crosshair's revelation and true feelings at the end of the season were no surprise to me, as they're consistent with what we've seen of him from TCW S7. But for Echo, a former "reg" to have to work with someone like Crosshair...even if Crosshair thought Echo was "different" enough to accept him, those are his brothers that Crosshair thinks he's so superior to, and has no issue speaking disdainfully about.

The increasing tension between Echo and Hunter, Echo's interest in helping Rex, in helping other clones, in doing something...I do hope they reach a point where Echo demands they go help, or he's leaving.

They gave Crosshair a chance, despite the fact that his choices were willing. I really hope Echo can convince the Batch to help save the other clones who don't have a choice. Because even if the Batch doesn't consider them their brothers, they're certainly Echo's. They matter just as much as Crosshair, and I really hope season 2 shows it narratively.

To conclude, again I'm interested in seeing what happens next, and I want answers about Omega and Nala Se. I find it interesting that they tied the facility where they took Nala Se in with the scientist dude collecting data on Grogu in the Mandalorian and those cloning labs. All of this is interesting, but at the same time I feel like it's trying to build up to Snoke/Palpatine stuff in the sequels which...I don't care nearly as much about, but who knows, could be neat ^ ^;

I'm okay with, and have made peace with the fact that the Bad Batch probably isn't the "clones-centric" show I wanted, and that they'll continue their own story, and probably continue to not care much about other clones in upcoming seasons. That's unfortunate, but alright. I'm interested enough in their story too.

But at the same time...I can't help but think man, if they have the time and budget to do a season 2, after seeing what was (or wasn't) accomplished in season 1...I wish they'd also make a Rex/Cody/Wolffe/"regular clones" show, because in the end, if you're going to do a "clones show"....that's who I want to see most.

If you got to the end, thank you for reading, and being an ear to my ranting ^ ^; Again this is literally just getting this off my chest. If this take isn't one you agree with, please just ignore. For people who did fall in love with the Batch, I'm happy for you, and regret that it just couldn't happen for me. But, I'm hoping that S2 will change my mind, but we'll just have to see! ^ ^;

[sky-of-dusk]

Fun fact : Kyouya cares more geniunely about Ginga than Hyouma

The Beyblade Metal Fusion episodes taking place in Koma focus on Ginga, primarily. They show to his friends and to the spectators how he had spent his life before his quest for vengeance. But these episodes also stage a new rivalry, between Hyouma and Kyouya. What's new, with this rivalry, is that it's not about Beyblade, but about the right to be Ginga's rival. It highlights two different relationships with Ginga, because Hyouma and Kyouya don’t interact with and don’t care about Ginga the same way.

To prove what I state with the title, however, I have to go back some episodes earlier.

After Ginga succeeds to make Kyouya come to his senses, after the Wolf Canyon, Kyouya shows sign of empathy for his new friend rival :

“Something is happening to him.” (english dub)

“Just what happened to Ginga...” (japanese dub)

- episode 13, when Ginga is fighting Ryuuga

“It's no use. (...) That battle with Ryuuga was important. More important than we can possibly understand. When he lost it, then his spiritwas broken. (...) He has to deal with it on his own.” (english dub)

“It might be impossible. (...) The fight with Ryuuga probably held some great meaning to him of which we have no idea. Losing this fight is breaking his heart. (...) He has to do it himself.” (japanese dub)

- episode 14, when Ginga isn't able to launch Pegasus anymore

“So that's Ginga's story.” (english dub)

“Ginga went through all that...” (japanese dub)

- episode 15, after Kenta tells the others Ginga's past

Reaching Koma and Ginga

On their way to Koma, the gang meets Hyouma, who tries to stop them to reach the village. Kyouya is wary of him, seeing he's lying, but he doesn't expose him right away. He gives to Hyouma the benefit of the doubt, collects proofs of his treachery (showing he had already evolved since the first episodes) and only then he shows the rest of the group Hyouma is deceiving them.

Once Hyouma’s intentions are revealed, Kyouya challenges him but Kenta, and then Benkei steal his fight. When it's his turn, Hyouma chooses to ignore him (to take revenge because Kyouya was the only one to doubt him and see the truth behind his false-friendly behavior ?) and begins to present himself as Ginga's childhood friend.

In the next episode, when Ginga is facing his trial to be a blader again, Hokuto tries to prevent Ginga's new friends to catch up with him. Kenta, Madoka and Benkei hesitate, but Kyouya doesn't let Hokuto decide for him :

“We can't just stand around here doing nothing. Let's go help Ginga. (...) I don't care if it is a sacred place. That has nothing at all to do with us. I'm going.” (english dub)

“Just twidling our thumbs won't do it. Let's go after Ginga. (...) Holy ground or whatever, that doesn't concern us. Let us go.” (japanese dub)

- episode 17

This time, Hyouma sides with them. But he's shown ambiguous : it looks like he doesn't truly want them to succeed. He allows himself some contemptuous remarks, and doesn't accompagny them to meet Ginga.

With Ginga at Koma

In episode 18, we get the first moment between Ginga and Hyouma. Instead of witnessing their friendship, we see there is a gap between them :

Ginga : You never change, do you my good buddy ?

Hyouma : The village have just changed completely and so of you Ginga.

Ginga : Really ?

Hyouma : Well, since you're back now after such a long time, want to check out of the forest together.

- english dub

Ginga : You haven't changed a bit, have you ?

Hyouma : The town has changed quite a bit, though, huh ? And so have you.

Ginga : Huh ?

Hyouma : Since you came all the way back home, tomorrow, let's take a walk in the woods for old time's sake.

- japanese dub

Ginga is happy to see again his childhood friend, happy to see he's the one he remembers, but Hyouma doesn't share his feeling : he reproaches Ginga for having changed. Well, Ginga had witnessed his father being killed and had to travel alone during months to stop his murderers and their organization. How was he supposed to stay the same carefree child who was raised in Koma under these circumstances ? Plus, he spent months discovering how the world was beyond their little and isolated village.

Hyouma changes the subject before Ginga has the time to register his remark. He doesn't want to take the responsability for his words and thoughts, and rather acts like nothing had changed, smiling.

He suggests a tour of the village, hoping Ginga will leave his friends to stay only with him. He's hurt when Ginga gets enthusiastic about the prospect of showing them where he used to live.

When they begin their tour of Koma, Hyouma hides what he thinks of Ginga's new friends’ presence, acting like he is pleased to be with them, but always implying he knows Ginga better than them. The first time Kyouya shows off his Beyblade skills, and the gang is acting like a fanclub (they are all : "he is so great !" xD), he gets offended.

After Ginga does the second training exercise, we’ve got this dialog :

Kyouya : So you've been training like this since you were in diapers. Hmmm. No wonder you've become strong.

Hyouma : It's one of the lucky things about growing up in Koma village. There is no real subsitute for experience, is there Kyouya ?

Kyouya : ?

- english dub

Kyouya : This way you've been training naturally since you were a kid. Of course you'd be strong.

Hyouma : That's the privilege of being raised in Koma Village. There is nothing you can do about that distinction, is there ?

Kyouya : ?

- japanese dub

Kyouya is beginning his I’m-having-the-cool-quotes-because-I-understand-everything attitude, playing his rival role... And Hyouma starts to provoke Kyouya, belittling him because he wasn't born in Koma (Kyouya can hardly do something about it) and implying he would never reach the level of Koma-born bladers. You can see Kyouya is shocked by Hyouma's attitude toward him.

Then, we get another dialog, showing the difference between what Hyouma says and what he thinks (the complete opposite), showing again the contempt he feels for Kyouya :

Hyouma : You never back down, do you ? I see why Ginga takes you so seriously.

Ginga : You bet !

Hyouma, thinking : But no matter how hard he tries, there are some things he'll never do.

- english dub

Hyouma : Pretty competitive, isn't he ? I see why you approve of them.

Ginga : Yeah !

Hyouma, thinking : But... no matter how hard he tries, there are some things he can't do.

- japanese dub

A brief aside

This is character bashing, really. As much as I enjoy the scene where Kyouya is shocked because Hyouma ignores his challenge (certainly the first time ever someone is so casual about him xD), in fact, Hyouma decided arbitrarily to dislike Kyouya. He doesn’t like Ginga’s friends, either, but he hounds Kyouya :

- he accepts Kenta’s and Benkei’s challenge, but he turns down Kyouya’s.

- he speaks little to Ginga’s friends, but he makes snide remarks to Kyouya whenever he has the opportunity to.

- he launches him contemptuous looks when no one else is watching.

Back to episode 18

When the group reaches the Green Hades, Hyouma finally drops the mask :

Hyouma : The time has come for Ginga and I to have a serious battle.

Benkei : Why are you talking about ?

Hyouma : Ginga and I battled in this very stadium many times when we were little kids. Rain or shine, we'd always come here to compete so, you see, I know him better than anyone else. If I battle with Ginga here, I can tell if he has truly recovered or not. You guys have just become friends with him so you can't tell. After living together in this village for so long, I'm the only one who can tell how he is !

Everyone : ?!!!

Hyouma : Ginga, as your true rival, I will test you right know.

He confesses Ginga and his new friends what he thinks : since he's the only one who knows Ginga (though he reproached Ginga to have changed), they can't be considered as his friends, let alone as his rivals. The only point that truly annoys Kyouya is the moment where Hyouma says he's Ginga's only rival, implying Kyouya is nothing to him in Beyblade. Benkei and Kenta are annoyed too : they have accompanied Ginga during his adventures, battled him, and suddenly they aren't worthy of him ? Kyouya "calms down" the game by ordering to Ginga to accept Hyouma's challenge. During the battle, he shows he believes in Ginga's victory, no matter the advantages Hyouma takes. He even reminds the others he used a similar advantage with the windy stadium, talking about his defeat. I want to stress it out : Kyouya reminds them he had LOST. Kyouya Tategami ! Only to show them Ginga is able to win this duel.

Kyouya : Winning means more because it's a difficult stadium. Have you all forgotten ? The windy stadium. My Leone had the advantage there because of wind but Ginga never backed down. (...) No matter what disadvantage he faces, he won't run. That's the Ginga I know. But it really bugs me that Ginga beat me but has never defeated this guy. Come on Ginga ! Defeat him right here, in front of all of us.

(in japanese, he says : That's the Hagane Ginga I know. However, I don't like that he's beaten me, but hasn't won against him yet. Leave him in the dust and let me see how you win !)

Ginga : Yeah, count on it. I'm gonna show you that Pegasus and I are back in top.

However, it is shown that Kyouya is the one who, at this point of their life, knows Ginga best. He guesses when his rival is about to launch his special move (and is very happy to tell Hyouma about it xD - a little revenge for Hyouma’s attitude and for having fallen twice because of this special move). Then, at the end of the duel, Hyouma is shocked to have lost. He doesn't understand how anyone can have the idea of destroying the stadium to win. And Kyouya thinks :

“Ginga would. You gotta think outside the crater sometimes.”

But he doesn't tell it out loud. He doesn’t show to everyone he understands Ginga better. As soon as the duel ends, Kyouya considers there is no more reason to argue.

Then, Ginga is congratulated by his new friends for his victory. He’s proud and happy among them, and Hyouma says :

“I guess I'm of no further use to you anymore. Please, continue to improve with your new great friends. I'm sure you will.”

This sentence looks too much like emotional blackmail for my taste... Anyway, Hyouma takes out this idea out of the blue, like it goes without saying and everyone agreed about this before the duel. Ginga gets shocked, not understanding what Hyouma is talking about, then Kyouya comes to them.

Kyouya : He can have more than one rival, you know.

This sentence is said by Kyouya, who will go as far as Africa to be able to fight Ginga. Despite Hyouma's attitude, Kyouma wants him to resume seing himself as one of Ginga's rivals.

The Survival Battle

Then, Hyouma and Kyouya meet again during the Survival Battle. Once more, Hyouma tries to dodge fighting Kyouya but Leone's blader spots him. They have to battle and, after some struggles, Kyouya wins. Despite this, Kyouya tries to cheer up Hyouma, telling plans don't always work as expected (he knows something about it xD). And he doesn't understand why Hyouma is so dispirited.

Hyouma : I changed the performance tip and it wasn't as stable as it normally is.

Kyouya : Plans can be flawed you know.

Hyouma : But there's another cause behind my defeat.

Kyouya : Huh ?

Hyouma : I have to give up the right to battle Ginga. Yeah. For today, but the next time we battle Kyouya, it won't end this way.

Kyouya : So you say. I'll battle you anytime.

At first, I thought : "This is a great moment of sportmanship". But I rewatch this scene, and rethink about it, and does Hyouma's words imply that he expected Kyouya to stop being Ginga's rival if he had lost ? I know if Kyouya had lost, he wouldn’t have been allowed to resume fighting during this tournament. But Hyouma says they’ll have to face each other to decide who will have the right to face Ginga the next time. He's still in the same state of mind he was when he met Ginga’s new friends, at Koma.

Comparison of their attitude

During their stay in Koma, Hyouma spent his time pulling the blanket to him. He doesn't truly talk about Ginga, but about his place : he is Ginga's childhood friend, he lives in Koma, he is the only one who deserves to be his rival... He reproaches Ginga for having changed, doesn't give him a word of comfort for all he came through. He is jealous of the friends he makes outside Koma, instead of being relieved he wasn't completely alone all the time he was away. He tries several times to prevent them to be with Ginga, wanting to have him for himself. The duel wasn't about seeing if Ginga was all right, but about showing to everyone he is Ginga's true rival, that the others don't count and can't expect to matter. Even when Ginga wins their duel, he goes toward the group to talk about himself. He's shown as very self-centered, thinking more about himself than about his friend. He considers if Ginga is friend/rival with him, he doesn't need anyone else.

Kyouya, on the contrary, is here for Ginga. He tells and retells it. He watches how Ginga had spent his life before meeting him, doing remarks about this (but not about himself). He shows he can do what Ginga does, and he's pretty happy of himself when he gets compliments, but he doesn't try to take credit all the time (sometimes he does, of course, he’s still Kyouya Tategami and Yuu gives us a perfect sum-up of his personality at the end of Fury). Kyouya lets Ginga having most of the foreground since they are in his home. He believes in him. He doesn't bear grudges against Hyouma for his attitude and even pushes him toward Ginga twice (once when Hyouma lost against Ginga in episode 18, once when Hyouma lost against him in episode 21). He tells three episodes after the episode 18 he only cares about defeating Ginga, because they are rival, so it is certainly in his mind right then, but he doesn't utter a word about it during the Koma episodes.

Maybe what I’ll add is an extrapolation, but I think Kyouya doesn't want Ginga to loose anything more. Ginga already lost his father, quited everything he knows to chase the Dark Nebula, spent months alone (with only Pegasus for company),... so he can't loose his childhood friend too (the only person left from his past, someone who should be like family).