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#i loved loved LOVED that bear from annihilation man
boyybites · 9 months
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Added that Jamal can stretch her mouth and throat to mimic sounds/voices/speech and while it does look unsettling as hell she also ends up sounding like that bear from annihilation
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wordslikesilver · 2 months
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I swear I’m almost done being mentally ill about Elden Ring I promise but I never see anyone talk about Morgott’s heart wrenching death scene. It’s never overtly pointed out but please imagine the progression of events from his perspective. Lying on his back, staring up at the sky, defeated. He’s one of the ONLY bosses that leaves behind a corpse and it’s heart wrenching okay, it’s OBLITERATING. Because he’s lying there withered and broken, staring up at the golden boughs of the one thing in the world he loved, not the golden order, not the greater will, he loved the Erdtree and dedicated his ENTIRE life to it even though it never loved him back because not even a man as scorned as Morgott could live without love and the love was to keep his heart still beating in his chest when he felt most like a monster. He has spent his entire life keeping this crumbling kingdom together. For his mother, who hid him away so the world wouldn’t hurt him, for his father, the man who taught him how to bear the weight of a crown and stand taller than the ignoble origins you come from. And he was so alone. The only constant in his life being that golden tree that shone down into the sewers. He is the last of all kings. The horns about his brow weighed heavier than his crown.
And then the tree was burning. Lying broken on the ground, unable to truly die, his curse expelled from his body, he could only look up and watch the only thing he loved with all his heart burn down around him. The ashes falling like snow on his face. Can you imagine the heat? The resignation? The misery and the promise that if there’s ever a next time, he’ll do better, and if there isn’t then this shall be his final legacy and he’ll just have to accept that final truth before he dies. The self hatred washing over him and passing into quiet peace as he chooses to pass away together with it. Omens do not get reincarnated by the Erdtree. Loved and blessed by the crucible of life, they are not loved the same as all the rest of us. But that’s okay. For Morgott, that was okay. He would live nobly and die with honour in its service and that would be enough. He’d spend the last moments of his life bathed in the warm ashes of orange and grey, content that even if he never felt loved by anyone at all after being cursed and shunned all his life, he did his duty as best he could and finally repaid the debt he felt towards the tree that showed him the light for so many long, lonely years.
And then, then it makes me so fucking miserable because then a pair of gentle, scarred and terribly rough hands lift him up from the ground and cradle him with all the tenderness in the world. The roar of a lion salutes his passing, honouring him, mourning him. “It’s been a long time, Morgott.” No anger, no disappointment. Simply, sadness, that he could not see you sooner. Godfrey, his father, returned at last to hold him one final time as he passes away, the rune of death now unbound and finding its way to Morgott after all this time. His last memory would be of being held by his father, loved for all that he is in the ashes of all that he dedicated his life to. His body fades, his entire world upheaved one final time, and an easily missed detail in the cutscene is that Morgott’s body becomes a Grace that points towards you, the player, to guide his father to his next step along the path of Lordship. One final time, Godfrey is guided by the unyielding love he feels for one of his children. Fuck it makes me so miserable. How do write something so tragic and not spend more time with it? How do you leave that beauty hidden in the details like it’s not one of the greatest moments of the entire game? It’s so quiet it’s private, almost. Like we’re not supposed to see that side of either of them, being such an outsider. It’s sundering to think about. Annihilating. I love it with all my heart and I hope more people love Morgott too after reading this.
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faulty-writes · 6 months
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Can I request a “Mr. Villain’s day off” fic..
The General x Human fem reader, who makes and sells stuffed animals in a little shop near the Zoo..
And maybe The General grew suspicious of her when he Sees “Red Ranger” practically abused her on her walk home one night, asking Reader to join the Rangers, because her family has a reputation for incredible combat skills.. and her flatly refusing, Reader even saying in a calm no shits given voice, and with a completely unbothered smile on her face.
“Well most humans are Asswholes anyway, we’ve been destroying our own planet for generations.. why is it so bad if the Evil League takes over the Earth?? They’d clearly treat the planet better than we have… I won’t fight for humanity, it’s shity.”
And then she just casually walks home..
Our lovable Mr. Villain is very interested curious about the Cute strange human woman..
So he goes to the shop she works at the next day to learn more about her.. and she’s in the middle of making the biggest.. Fluffiest.. CUTEST… stuffed Panda teddy-bear.. he’s ever seen… in that moment… he’s an absolute goner.
He’s smitten, lovestruck, infatuated.. She looks like an angel to him…. Also, he will make sure nobody but him will buy that huge stuffed Panda.. made by the loving hands of his “soon to be” beloved..
[ This is awesome, my first Mr. Villain request featuring the main man himself. Please let me know how I did, I tried to make the story interesting. I used the name "Warumono-san" because that's what I've seen other posts do. Not sure if that's correct or not. Regardless this was about 12 pages in Word, so I hope you enjoy it! As stated in the request this is a FEMALE READER INSERT. ]
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You sighed before clenching your jaw and curling your hands into fists, practically feeling the steam seeping from your nostrils. This was getting old, and you were sick of Red Ranger constantly bothering you with his useless nonsense. “Aw, come on!” He whined.
“Will you shut up!?” You snapped, baring your teeth like a cornered animal. How could one human being be this damn annoying? How could he not take the thousands of hints you’ve given him!? No matter what you said or did to him, he only continued to pester.
Warumono-san smiled and looked at the plastic bag in his hand, the contents of which contained the goods he just purchased from the convenience store. Oh yes, he was eager to try the newest flavor of ice cream recommended to him by the convenience store worker.
It pained him to think that when he finally conquered Earth in the name of his mother planet and annihilated the Earthlings she would, unfortunately, perish. However, until then, he would enjoy her insights and the warmth her smile brought him whenever he walked past those double doors.
However, he stopped short when he heard yelling and turned to see two individuals standing on the opposite side of the street. His eyes widened when he recognized one of them was Red Ranger and his body tensed up. No doubt an embedded reaction because of his complicated past with the Rangers.
A sense of anger filled him, making his stomach twist. If there was one thing he hated, it was those damn Rangers who attempted to stop him at every turn from accomplishing his goal. ‘Yes…damn you Rangers!’ He frantically thought, ‘You will not stop our efforts to take over Earth!’
He was tempted, oh so tempted, to close his eyes and transform into his supervillain alias. The one with a menacing glare, cold-hearted aura, and dark clothing. ‘But tomorrow is the start of my day off,’ all at once that tension seemed to melt, and his shoulders relaxed.
As of now, it seemed that neither Red Ranger nor you noticed his presence, and so he remained spectating on the sidewalk. There was a slight concern that his ice cream would melt, but he assumed he had a couple of minutes to spare.
Red Ranger frowned, and the usual happy sparkle in his eyes all but faded. “B-but…tch…” pressing his teeth together, he couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit frustrated. He didn’t understand! Why wouldn’t you consider being part of the Rangers!?
Your family had an honorable and well-respected reputation for protecting others through perfected combat skills passed on from generation to generation. Yes, maybe you didn’t have the power the Rangers possessed, and couldn’t see the dark aura surrounding the enemy.
But it would be useful to have someone who could teach the Rangers the way of combat. His eyes moistened over causing the faint moonlight to reflect off them and a soft breeze came, ruffling his hair before he stepped forward. ‘I need to convince them to join us, whatever it takes!’ He thought before locking eyes with you.
“Why won’t you join the Rangers!?” He demanded, pressing a hand to his chest. Warumono-san’s eyes widened. ‘He wishes to recruit more Rangers!?’ The present number of Rangers was enough to deal with, how dare he try to recruit more.
‘Damn you again Rangers!’ His shoulders grew tense and his grip tightened around the plastic strap of the bag he held. ‘You and the rest of the Earthlings truly want to die!’ A growl rumbled in his throat, and he was prepared to intervene, even at the cost of allowing his precious after-work treats to melt.
He’d teach that damned Red Ranger and you a lesson. However, he paused when he heard your response, and it was so strange that it caused his lips to part and his mind to be rendered blank. What you said was unlike any response he would expect from an Earthling.
You knew that it may be unconventional and that not many would think or even say such a negative thing about their own species. But it was the truth, and it was a truth you learned the hard way. Through all the pain, suffering, and heartbreak you went through in this so-called, ‘life.’
From being forced to do things you did not wish to do, to feeling as if you had to do certain things out of guilt. It wasn’t fair! But that was the punchline of the joke. Life was not fair, and it didn’t care who it stepped on to get its way, and because of that you and everyone else unlucky enough had to suffer.
Red Ranger knit his eyebrows when he saw a smirk across your face. Placing your hands on your hips, you said, “Humanity is awful,” in a cold tone, “most of us that inhabit this planet are only killing it, and we can’t even show kindness to each other.”
His jaw dropped and his eyes widened, his pupils shaking with disbelief. “H-how can you say that Y/n?!” He demanded, curling his hands into fists. “The people here aren-” he stopped short when you held up your hand. Your eyes narrowed, and he shivered at the hateful glance now directed at him.
“What would be so bad if that Evil League you’re always talking about takes over Earth?” You demanded, taking a step toward him. “W-well, I…that’s-” he tried to come up with a reason, but you continued forward causing him to stumble back.
“They’d treat the planet better than we have. They’d probably even reverse most of the damage humans have caused!” You snapped, stomping your foot against the ground. “Ah!” Red Ranger cried out when you roughly grabbed the collar of his hoodie, forcefully pulling him down to your face.
“So, for the last fucking time,” you growled, tightening your grip. “I won’t fight for humanity. I won’t fight alongside the Rangers. Not for such a shitty planet,” you could hear him audibly swallow before he made the bold choice to wrap his fingers around your wrist.
“Don’t even think about it!” You repositioned your stance, separating your legs, and firmly pressing your feet against the ground. You already had a secure grip on his collar, and while his hand grasping your wrist may be a problem, your skills far outweighed the consequences of whatever he could do.
In one fluid motion, you pivoted and used the momentum to swing him off balance. As expected, he was caught off guard by this and the sensation of his feet lifting off the ground as he was propelled forward and over your shoulder.
Warumono-san watched the spectacle with his jaw dropped, he had never seen an Earthling cause harm to another Earthling using aggressive domination and force. He felt a sense of satisfaction wash over him when Red Ranger hit the ground and let out a painful grunt.
Silence filled the air seconds later before you towered over the man on the ground. “Idiot,” you mumbled walking past him, your steps a little heavier than normal. It was too late to be dealing with such stupidity, you needed to get home and prepare yourself for tomorrow.
After all, you had a business to run, and you couldn’t function without a proper night’s rest. “Heh,” Warumono-san clasped his chin, revealing his pointy teeth in a happy smirk. “I need to know who that Earthling is,” he concluded before his attention shifted back to Red Ranger who grunted again as he sat up.
His face twisted, and his hand rested over his stomach as if he had been punched. “W-wait…” he faintly squeaked out, reaching toward you with his other hand but you only got further and further away. However, because you were such a distance away, his attention was refocused as he suddenly sensed something nearby.
He turned, gasping when he noticed Warumono-san, and immediately panicked. He looked back at you. ‘No, I have to warn Y/n before-’ he went to get on his feet, ready to sprint down the sidewalk after you but Warumono-san cut him off.
Placing his bag of frozen treats down, a black whirlwind surrounded him as he transformed into his villainous persona. His hair now standing on end, and a menacing shadow cast over his face. A large dark cape now draped over his shoulders, weighed down by two claw-like hands.
The cape ran down his back and concealed part of a large black tail. His chest was exposed, and the strange blue-like markings that colored his waist and part of his pecs were visible. The bottom of his outfit remained the same.
He grinned and was quick to move, leaving behind a strong gust of wind that raffled the few trees embedded into the sidewalk. Their leaves rustled violently in response, and some even fell to the ground in the wake of the sudden shock of what occurred.
He grinned, amused by Red Ranger’s shocked expression. That innocence of wishing to protect another shining in his eyes, and yet regret overtook that hope. “Ah!” He cried out when Warumono-san’s hand grasped his throat and the ground underneath his feet disappeared again.
The twisted smirk on the other’s face was something he wouldn’t soon forget, and he desperately grasped onto the hand wrapped around his throat. Warumono-san realized he could have used the provided tail on his cape to render the Ranger useless.
However, there was something much more satisfying about holding the Ranger up with his bare hand. Being able to control his flow of oxygen and hear him choke as he begged for air sent a delightful tingle through his body. Yet, there was a more pressing matter at hand.
“Now Red Ranger…” he grimaced, allowing smoke to seep from his mouth as he pulled the boy closer. “Who was that Earthling?” He demanded, only to receive silence in response. Red Ranger clenched his jaw, opting to glare at Warumono-san instead of answering him.
When he picked up on this hostility, he tightened his hand around the other’s throat, momentarily cutting off his oxygen supply. Red Ranger’s grip on his wrist grew desperate, and despite feeling those nails digging into his flesh, he smirked yet again.
Yes, he enjoyed seeing his enemy struggling for oxygen. “It is clear she is not willing to side with you Rangers.” His eyes widened at Warumono-san’s words, and his jaw clenched, revealing his teeth which remained pressed together.
Was it true? Did you have no interest in protecting the Earth? Did you really want humanity to perish? No…he refused to believe it. He wanted to know what made you think that way, had you faced such unkindness that it rendered you to decide that Earth was not worth saving?
In his opinion, you weren’t a horrible person. You just needed a friend. Someone to make you believe in humanity again, and he wanted to be that person. His eyes focused on Warumono-san, taking in his happy but twisted expression. The man currently choking him wasn’t a horrible person either, although most wouldn’t believe that.
Yes, Warumono-san and the evil organization he was a part of were the Ranger’s sworn enemies, but he had seen and experienced firsthand how kind the villain could be. And if that were true…then could he not return that kindness?
Was protecting you the wrong thing to do if Warumono-san wouldn’t do harm to you? His eyes burned slightly, filling with tears that reflected the light provided by the streetlamps. When he noticed Red Ranger’s eyes moisten, a sign that he would soon cry, his grip on his throat loosened.
Red Ranger sharply inhaled, coughing slightly before he noticed himself being lowered back to the ground. “Huh?” He looked around, pressing his feet against the sidewalk a few times before looking back at Warumono-san who sighed and transformed into his civil form.
He leered at the Ranger who was now massaging his throat, a few tears slowly dripped down his cheeks as he attempted to regain his steady breathing. “Well,” Warumono-san stated, making the red-haired boy pause and look at him. He tilted his head to the side, exposing his sharp teeth, “What is that Earthling’s name?”
Red Ranger’s hands curled into fists, and once again, he debated telling the other what he knew. The internal struggle was clear on his face given his slanted eyebrows and tense posture and while Warumono-san noticed this, he didn’t care about how the Ranger felt.
An angry Earthling meant nothing to him. This, however, didn’t stop him from being caught off guard by the next set of words that left the Ranger’s mouth. “I-if I tell you…” he hesitated, and his lip quivered but he needed to say this!
“You...you have to promise not to hurt her!” He demanded, and part of him grew surprised to see the hint of humanity shine in the villain’s eyes. Silence lingered in the air, apart from the rumbling of distant traffic and the chirping of crickets and other insects.
He grasped his chin. He was uncertain why Red Ranger wished him to promise such a thing. Yes, his goal was to annihilate humanity and yes, he would feel bad for killing off certain people he had come to know. But you…well, you had struck a fancy in him.
Perhaps you’d be the first Earthling he’d spare from such a devastating fate. Pulling the corner of his lip up, he grimaced down at the Ranger. His stomach twisted with unease knowing he was about to bend to the other’s will, but if it got him the information, he so desired, it was a worthy sacrifice.
“Fine,” he replied, lowering his hand with the intent to shake Red Ranger’s. “It’s a deal,” he stated, and while he suspected the Ranger to be hesitant for him to keep his word, that suspicious stare of his didn’t lessen the feeling of annoyance. 
Earthlings were indeed strange, even when you gave them your word, there was still so clearly doubt. This was unlike the people back on his home planet who would keep their word and keep themselves in good standing with others.
While his hand trembled, he managed a steady handshake with Warumono-san. However, he was struck with panic when he felt the pressure of nails against the top of his hand. “Now what is her name?” He demanded, having grown too impatient for Red Ranger’s nonsense.
“Mm,” even if he was still uncomfortable with this, he couldn’t back down now. “Her name is…Y/n,” his eyes lit up. “Y/n,” he repeated, although he wasn’t partial to complimenting or even caring about Earthling names, yours sounded so sweet on his tongue.
Red Ranger nodded. “Yes and…” he paused again, wondering if he should say any more. However, he had the other’s attention, and that grim stare only convinced him to continue speaking. “She…has a shop near the Uenono Zoo,” he stated, watching the other’s eyes light up.
He knew that Warumono-san favored the zoo, particularly the panda exhibit which explained why his eyes beamed with happiness at his words. Although he hadn’t informed the other that you made and sold stuffed animals, he assumed that would be self-explanatory. “Heh,” Warumono-san smirked, “I see.”
He planned to visit your precious little shop at his earliest convenience. He turned, his eyes settling on his bag of frozen treats that remained on the sidewalk across the street. He couldn’t help but frown knowing that they were likely melted as he wasted more time than he had anticipated dealing with Red Ranger.
“Thank you for the information,” he stated, walking across the street with his hand held up. “Huh!?” He stiffened and drew his bottom lip into his mouth, watching the villain grab his plastic bag filled with who knows what before walking down the sidewalk.
He continued to watch until Warumono-san disappeared around the corner of a building, more than likely headed home. He let out the breath he was holding but his relaxation was short-lived when he heard two distinct voices behind him.
“Wow, he’s lost again, isn’t he?” A high-pitched voice said. “Still can’t find your way around the block, Red?” He blinked and slowly turned to see Sora and Mugi. As usual they were standing close together, their hands interlocked as they looked at him with unamused expressions.
“Sora, Mugi!” He shouted, alarmed that the two were by themselves, and dropped to his knees, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “What happened!? Why are you out here at night!?” He demanded, his eyes wavering with fear.
“We’re not alone,” Sora replied, her tone somewhat snarky. “Yeah, Blue is following us,” Mugi stated, pointing behind him. “Huh?” Red shifted his gaze to see a tall boy with bright blue hair, and equally blue eyes running up to them.
He was wearing an oversized dark-colored hoodie, with jeans and black shoes. As soon as he approached, he leaned over, placing his hands on his knees. His soft pants filled the air before he swallowed thickly and glared at the twins.
“Don’t run off like that again!” He scolded before a sigh passed his lips and he pressed his hand against his forehead. “Black would kill me if anything happened to you guys,” he stated, lowering his hand to resume glaring at the pair who responded with a pout.
Blue’s eyebrow twitched, even if he tried, he would be unable to explain just how irritated Sora and Mugi made him sometimes. He sighed again, trying to push his anger back before grabbing Sora’s hand. “Come on,” he urged, “we need to get back before Black gets mad.”
The last thing he needed was a lecture about how it was past Sora and Mugi’s bedtime. Red watched the interaction before looking in the direction Warumono-san went. ‘I hope Y/n will be okay,’ even if you continued to reject the idea of being part of the Rangers, he didn’t want you to be harmed by anyone.
“You too, Red!” Blue shouted, snapping the other out of his paranoid thoughts. “Huh!?” He turned his head back, looking at the three ahead of him. “Oh, r-right!” He replied, running to catch up to them. Maybe a good night’s sleep would suit him well and take his mind off you and Warumono-san.
However, that didn’t change what he had said before. If anything happened to you at the hands of that villain, he’d make sure he paid the price. ‘A shop near the zoo, a shop near the zoo…’ he thought as he walked past the Uenono Zoo.
His desire to see his precious pandas was high, but he had a mission to complete. ‘Yes!’ he thought, ‘Pandas must wait! Locating the Earthling, Y/n comes first!’ His eyes scanned the area. ‘A shop near the zoo, a shop near the zoo…’ he repeated before resuming walking.
Several small shops lined the street near the zoo and made him come to a halt. He tilted his head, grasping his chin in contemplation, and ignored the strange looks he got from passersby. Yet another odd set of behaviors he noticed Earthlings engage in.
What was so fascinating about his appearance that their stares remained fixated on him even as they walked away? Well, it mattered very little. He would not miss those stares when the Earth was overtaken in the name of his mother planet. A sigh passed his lips as he lowered his hand and yet again glanced along the row of shops.
There was only one logical thing to do now. “Yes!” He declared, making the Earthlings around him stop and look. ‘That is it! I must visit each shop to determine if it’s Y/n’s!’ He thought frantically, bending his knees, and raising his hands above his head, ignoring the fact he was indeed a spectacle.
‘Now,’ he straightened his posture, leering at the spectators who seemed to shudder and quickly walk away. “Heh…” he tried not to let his pride distract him as he, once again, looked at the shops. He lightly tapped his lips, ‘Which one do I start with?’
He quickly concluded that it didn’t matter and walked to the first little shop on the left. His eyes immediately catch the delightful display of fluffy creatures, primarily teddy bears that lined the display window. His hand fisted into the front of his shirt, his heart pounding with excitement at the uniquely crafted plush companions.
‘W-what is this!?’ He pressed his palms against the smooth glass as he observed each teddy bear. There were varieties of colors and sizes, and each one was placed in a playful pose that beckoned him to take them home. He noticed the craftsmanship of them and the intricate stitching and embroidery that truly brought them to life.
Some were even wearing tiny outfits, with miniature hats and scarves while others had delightful ribbons around their necks. Like a present you would give away on the Earthling holiday, Christmas. He was at a loss for words as he contemplated which ones he wanted to purchase.
However, they were quickly forgotten when he gazed up and his breath hitched. ‘It’s Y/n!’ He grinned, his heart now swelling with pride. ‘I found her.’ He was prepared to walk into your shop when something else caught his eye.
“Hm!?” He watched you threading a needle before leaning over to pierce it through something, but not just any old something. ‘WHAT!?’ his jaw dropped, and his eyes widened as he watched you sew two pieces of fabric together.
One was colored white, and the other black. He knit his eyebrows, noticing that the fabric looked incredibly fluffy and almost defied gravity, standing out in all directions like a cloud of softness. Its dark button eyes shimmered in the light of the shop, and its silly freshly stitched together tongue hung out amidst its black-yarned smile.
“P-panda?!” Not just any panda, but the biggest, fluffiest, and cutest stuffed panda teddy bear he had ever seen or imagined. He was in awe as he continued to watch you create the stuffed companion, and his fingers curled against the glass.
You seemed unaware of his presence, and while that would normally work to his advantage, he wanted your attention. He also wanted that panda bear you were creating. He clenched his jaw, feeling a soft ache course through his teeth.
‘Yes…’ he thought, his hands now trembling. “I must make sure nobody gets the panda bear!” He pushed off the display window, stumbling as he ran to the door. He grasped the handle desperately and felt the weight of the door give way and a bell ring as he barged in.
The change in atmosphere was astounding, there was a certain warmth that surrounded him. The soft lighting that cast a gentle glow over the plush companions that lined every corner only added to the already inviting surroundings. The aroma of fabric with the faint undertone of sawdust filled his nostrils.
However, there was another scent that caught his attention. Something like a hint of lavender and cedarwood. “Hm?” You turned your head, the needle and thread still securely placed between your thumb and forefinger.
“Oh…” your eyes lingered on the strange man who entered your shop, noticing his black shirt, trench coat, and curly mess of hair that hid a portion of his face. Not to mention his long, elf-shaped ears. ‘Well…that’s some look,’ you thought, deciding to shrug it off and greet him.
“Heh,” you forced a smile and tried to muster the sweetest tone, “Hi, welcome to my shop!” His heart accelerated at the sound of your voice, and he straightened his posture. The odd feeling of warmth rushing through his cheeks almost made him think something was wrong.
For a moment, he wondered if this was a trap or if he had contracted some strange new Earthling disease. Had the Earthlings made some new weapon that weakened his kind!? Despite his internal dismay, he hummed in response to your words.
No, this reaction couldn’t have been caused by any Earthling disease. Rather, he suspected that perhaps unlike the rest of the Earthlings on this miserable planet, he had unintentionally selected you as the sole survivor when the Earth was taken over.
And the reason was that…you had caught his interest, or uh, curiosity but what would he do now that he was so close to you!? What could he say? Surely you didn’t wish to talk about the incident with Red Ranger, although that was the incident that triggered this situation.
Given that you didn’t know he had a connection with the Rangers or that he was present when you were interacting with Red Ranger, it would be unwise to mention it. In addition, he did not wish to lose something he had yet to obtain.
His eyes lingered on the stuffed panda you were currently constructing, and his shoulders stiffened. ‘Yes…the panda!’ he reached into his trench coat, pulling out his wallet. ‘I must make sure no Earthling purchases it!’ his steps echoed through the empty shop as he approached you.
“There, at least that section is finished,’ you thought, quickly cutting the remaining thread on the needle before noticing the strange man had approached you. “Uh…” glancing at him up close, you noticed just how tall he was and the slightly intimidating aura that surrounded him.
Although since you were trained in combat, you had very little to worry about. If he tried anything, he’d get his ass kicked the same way Red Ranger did. However, despite your assumptions about him, he caught you by surprise when he pointed at the panda and asked, “How much?!”
You were slightly alarmed by the panic in his voice, as if he were afraid that the stuffed panda you were working on was going to disappear out of thin air. In addition, it struck you as odd that a grown man would want such a stuffed companion. Then again, maybe you shouldn’t judge.
The man could have a family or knew someone who had children who might appreciate your craft. Of course, you knew your customers well and realized you hadn’t seen this man before. “Uh…what’s your name?” you asked, turning briefly to stick the needle you held back into the pin cushion next to the stuffed panda.
“Huh?” Warumono-san frowned. ‘What is this? Is she attempting to distract me away from the panda?’ He irrationally thought, gazing at the inanimate object before looking back at you. His eyes carefully scan you from head to toe, noting that your posture gave away your attitude.
Your hands were on your hips, and that ever-so-interesting hint of a pout on your lips, yet your furrowed brows indicated your annoyance. However, this only reminded him of what an intriguing Earthling you were, and a certain feeling overwhelmed him as he continued to stare at you.
Like a flutter of a hummingbird’s wings, his heart, no…his whole body felt light. “Heh,” he smiled. ‘Yes…well played Y/n…trying to distract me away from the panda!’ He thought, resisting the urge to frantically move his body as he normally would when consumed by his thoughts.
‘Very well, I shall play your game! But know this, the panda is mine!’ He swallowed, his grip tightening around his wallet. “Warumono-san,” he replied, his tone deep and authoritative. Given his position as General of an evil organization that set out to destroy Earth, he was used to speaking with certain tones.
Said tones were normally reserved for putting others in their place. Not that he was ruthless or unjust, no. But he wasn’t foolish enough to dismiss the idea that he deserved a certain level of respect, and even in cases where he did not receive such respect, from Trigger for example, he remained calm and collected.
Respect was earned yes, but you could not expect everyone to respect you. Yet, this ideology was quite amusing considering he found himself respecting you more than any other Earthling simply because of the way you treated Red Ranger and your opinion of the Earthlings. You blinked, tilting your head to the side.
Your hands moved from your hips and rested against your inner elbows when you crossed your arms. “Warumono-san?” You repeated, finding his name or what he liked to be addressed by rather strange. But this world was full of strange, stupid people. So, you shrugged, deciding to go along with the charade.
“Okay?” you replied, taking a breath. “My name is Y/n, I own this shop,” there was a certain bittersweet tone to your voice that made him concerned. Yet, something else took precedence at that moment. “How much for the panda?” He asked again, pointing to it, and noting your eyebrows furrowing again.
“This…” you sighed only being reminded that his behavior was odd. But he hadn’t done anything harmful, and he didn’t smell of booze, so it was safe to assume he wasn’t intoxicated. “This isn’t for sale yet an-” you stumbled back when he shoved a handful of yen into your face.
‘I must make sure nobody else gets the panda!’ His jaw clenched as he intensely stared at you. His eyes held an almost predatory glance. ‘I will not tolerate any other Earthling purchasing what was made by this Earthling!’ And when he spared your life, you could make more stuffed animals.
A stuffed animal for each of his comrades on his mother planet, oh yes! Your body stiffened, and you resisted the urge to grab his wrist and flip him over your shoulder and onto the floor. Pressing your fingertips together, you took a deep breath and felt your stomach sink and your body heat up with the slightest bit of anger.
Like a small match, ready to cause destruction if used correctly. Yet, you tried to remind yourself of the purpose of this shop. The stuffed animals that lined the walls and shelves were the legacy of what your grandparents left behind, as they believed you deserved an easier life than the one your parents tried to force you to have.
‘Right…’ you let out the breath you were holding and returned your gaze to the man who still held out a handful of money. ‘They wouldn’t have approved of me denying this man...’ your eyes lingered on his stone-cold face, ‘As strange as he is.’ Another sigh passed your lips.
“Fine,” you replied, taking the money from him, and quickly counting it. You glanced at the panda, knowing you could always make another one. It would be easy, like clockwork considering you’ve done it your whole life. “I guess this will do,” you said, folding the cash in half before tucking it into your pocket.
“But this particular panda isn’t going to be done for a couple of days,” you informed, casting a soft glare his way. But his reaction was not what you expected, it was almost like he hadn’t heard you. He remained standing there, with the strangest smile on his face.
Although you couldn’t see his eyes because his hair obstructed them, you could feel his stare and it was beginning to make you feel a little self-conscious. “Um…” you crossed your arms. “Hello?” You said, unaware that Warumono-san was simply beaming with happiness.
Not only did you agree to give him the precious panda but knowing that it was made by you made his heart even lighter. He had not felt this way since he was a young one before the crushing weight of the workforce pulled him down.
As he continued to stare at you, he noticed something about you, and it made him grasp his chin in thought. Some form of radiance surrounded you, like a golden hue. Was there not an Earthly term for that? ‘Oh yes,’ it suddenly came to him, he had read about them in one of the religious books certain Earthlings seemed to abide by.
You looked like what they depicted as an angel. Unfortunately, your angelic reign on Earth would soon be over. Yes, he had promised not to harm you, but nothing was said about capturing you. “Thank you,” he said and watched with some amusement as your eyebrows raised as if you hadn’t expected him to speak.
“Yeah well,” you huffed and glanced away from him. “I make and sell these things,” you said, motioning to the in-progress stuffed panda. “So, I guess it’s not a big deal if someone wants one before it’s finished being made,” you concluded.
“Hm?” Warumono-san sensed a heavy tension filling the air, and the frown on your face indicated you weren’t exactly the happiest now. But he remained quiet, allowing you to speak as you wished. Your throat tightened, forming a lump that made you swallow heavily.
“You know, I never really envisioned myself doing this,” you confessed, although you weren’t sure why you were revealing this to a stranger. Maybe it was because he wouldn’t judge you, not that you would care if he did. Maybe it was because you hoped you wouldn’t see him again after this.
Maybe still, there was something about him that made you feel like you could be truthful or vent a little. Beating up Red Ranger only helped so-so. “It just started off as one of my grandparent’s hobbies, and then it turned into this,” you explained, waving your hand through the air.
“Spent most of my childhood helping them with the shop, and learning how to make stuffed animals even if my parents didn’t approve,” you chuckled slightly. “All they cared about was fighting and training in the name of the family reputation.”
Yes, you were grateful that you had learned how to defend yourself, but they pushed you beyond your limits. They acted as though fighting and training were the only qualities that equaled someone being worthy. Because of that, they forced you into that lifestyle or at least it felt like they did.
It was like you never had a choice, and there was constant tension between them and your grandparents over what was best for you. The only time you seemed to get peace away from your parents, and the weight of responsibility lifted from your shoulders was when you were with your grandparents.
They showed you that there was something else you could do with your life and that you had the right to choose what you wanted to do. Of course, this was before you had learned that they left their business to you. Sometimes you think you made the choice to keep their shop alive because you felt like you owed them.
Still, it was the first choice that you had made in your otherwise suffocating life, and because of it, you were disowned by your family which only added salt to the wound. Yes...life was not fair, and the unlucky suffered because of those who thought it right to step all over others.
‘Humanity is awful,’ you thought before looking at Warumono-san. ‘But...at least I can show kindness when I wish to.’ Your chuckle didn’t fool him. It was evident there was a bittersweet sadness you were attempting to cover. “I...” he noticed your hesitance and the subtle pain that shined in your eyes.
“When they died, they passed the shop onto me. Guess I’m just trying my best to keep it alive for their sake,” you concluded with a shrug. “Mm…” perhaps this was another reason why he felt so…infatuated by you. That strong front you put up, that wall that separated your true feelings was much like his.
Yes, everyone looked up to and feared him, but was he truly as evil as everyone depicted? The answer was quite obvious. Yet, there was a tenderness underneath that front that longed to be set free but could only do so seldom. Yes, perhaps you two were more alike than he realized.
He glanced at you, the sadness that enveloped your features was something he detested, perhaps even more than the Rangers. ‘So, the business was passed down to Y/n. Earthlings are known for performing such acts for their offspring or relatives,’ although he didn’t have a solid opinion on how he felt about such things.
There was still so much to learn and comprehend when it came to Earthlings, but this didn’t change the knowledge that once something important was handed to you, it was your job to protect and let it prosper. Things he was going to do with you, very soon.
“I see,” he replied after a moment, daring to step closer to you. “We have similar exchanges on my mother planet,” he confessed before realizing his words. You knit your eyebrows. “What?” You replied, and he shook his head, deciding to choose the strategy of silence.
Although he wanted to reply and make some phony explanation as to why he said what he did, he found himself unable to think rationally. The pounding of his heart echoed in his ears and his simmering hot cheeks only added to this inability.
Yet, one question screamed out in the back of his mind. How could he reveal such confidential information without a second thought!? “Uh…” you blinked, noticing the way he was positioned. He was hunched over, his knees bent and practically pressed against his chest.
His hands were tangled in his messy crop of hair, and his lips were pulled up, revealing his unusual pointy teeth. ‘Is he having some internal crisis?’ You wondered, but just as you stepped forward, he snapped out of his daze, and you saw the faintest hint of his golden orbs peering at you from behind those chocolate-colored strands.
Your eyes widened at the sight of them. Yes, you had seen some unusual things in your time, and the stories Red Ranger told you were extremely difficult to believe, let alone picture. Somehow, Warumono-san’s eyes had you frozen. But not with fear, rather something else. Something…unearthly.
‘Wait a minute...’ it slowly dawned on you. ‘Is this...one of the members of the evil organization?’ A small hint of panic consumed you, but you tried to keep your thoughts straight. That was...ridiculous. If this man was part of that organization, shouldn’t he have done something horrible to you by now?
He stood up, his posture now stiff and his hands loosely curled by his sides. He looked at you, his lips pressed out in a thin line. He could feel the tightness growing in his throat and made the choice to play ignorant, although this was his least favored tactic.
“Thank you very much,” he stated, bowing slightly before he turned to the door and the ends of his tailcoat drifted through the air as he walked away. He wrapped his hand around the metal bar across the door, and once again the bell gave a soft ring, signaling his departure.
However, he paused and looked at you from over his shoulder. His gaze lingers and makes you feel that same strange sensation as if he was from another planet. “Little plushie maker,” he purred, finding some amusement at your wide-eyed expression before walking out of the shop.
He planned to return in a few days to bring the desired plushie panda bear and possibly you home. Once again, his heart fluttered at the thought, and he smiled as he slipped his hands into his pockets, heading back toward the Uenono Zoo.
His steps echoed against the paved grooves that made up the street, and as he looked up at the sky he thought, ‘I must privately report this.’ His eyes focused on a cloud passing by, ‘The day I decided to take an Earthling as my soon to be…beloved.’
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misguidedasgardian · 1 year
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The Last Raid
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MASTERLIST
Summary: You are a norsewoman, a Viking shieldmaiden from Norway, you were riding with the brothers Erik and Sigefrid, when Uhtred takes back the princess the army disbands, and you go on your own. 
Pairing: Osferth x Shieldmaiden!lreader 
Warnings: TLK AU, war, death, smut, profanity, religious themes, pagan rituals, and much more
Wordcount:  1.5 k
Notes: Is this a story? or a one shot? nobody knows hehe 
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The army of Danes that you were riding with had been annihilated, completely destroyed by the army of King Alfred and the command of Uhtred the Daneslayer, that is what you got for making an alliance with the Danes, you should have stayed with your people, with the Vikings from the North, from Norway.
After someone in the middle of the fight hit you in the head, you fell limply in the middle of the battle, when you regained your bearings, you could only see what was left of your “army” running for the hills, leaving you alone. 
So you decided to go your own way, you didn’t fit with them anyways, but now you were alone, you luckily had time to gather your things, your horse and your weapons before the camp was completely destroyed. You rode until you came across a huge river, you didn’t have a clue of where you were, but you needed to wash away the blood from your enemies and the dirt from the fight.
You haven't come across anyone so you gathered you were alone, so you discarded your coat of mail, the leather shirt underneath, your boots and your thick leather pants, you only left the long shirt to cover in case someone did come along. You didn’t even have the heart to undo your braids. 
You let yourself relax as you cleaned your face from the dirt and dried blood, you even submerged your head under the water, and when you emerged you let yourself hear the birds chirping from afar and even though the water was freezing, it was beautiful, calm, peaceful.
Were you going to try and make a life here like your grandfather had intended? you were growing weary of the fight, you wanted to settle, to plant, to farm, to have a house of your own with a big hall in which you could gather your friends and family… which you were lacking.
If you came close to one of those Saxon villages, would they let you stay? Would they give you a job? or would they hate you and pursue you for being a Viking?, the only settlement the vikings from Norway had in England had been destroyed, to find more of your people was going to be difficult… 
You were so deep in your own thoughts that when you noticed the presence behind you, it was too late. You turned around quickly and you tried to run to shore, to your belongings, to your axe and sword, but a smiling man stood right by them, his hand in his own sword, so you took a step back, in fear. 
You were still in the water, but you still had something. You extracted a small knife from a Garter you had tied in your thigh, and came face to face with four men. They had singular appearances, they did not look Dane, not at all, but they didn’t look Saxon either. 
“She is a Dane, Uhtred”, warned one, that by the looks of him and his accent, was one himself 
“Aren’t you a clever one?”, you mocked, “nothing escapes you, except, I am not a Dane” 
“With a sharp tongue”, mocked the one who seemed to be the leader
“She is pretty Lord”, said a blonde, with wide innocent eyes and strange clothes, they all laughed, they made your skin crawl and you tightened the grip on the handle of your blade
“Baby Monk fell in love!”, mocked the one that was near your things, perhaps you should take that one first, grab your ax, you could at least take another one with you, they did not had a bow, so, they will have to come close to you to attack you, you looked at the path you were going to need to run by, careful of the sharp rocks under the water. Three long jumps and you could take him…
You took one step and the one they called Uhtred raised his hand, you looked into his eyes and you could tell he had all but read your mind, looking at the path in front of you and then at his man.
“Finan”, he called, and then he also seemed to notice, and he took a defensive position, so your plan was ruined, then you looked at the other Dane, and then at the priest looking one, who would be easier to kill?
“We will not hurt you”, Uthred said, showing you his hands, you were surrounded, and they were four warrior men, you did not believe him
“Four men, one woman, I know how this ends”, you growled, you looked to your knife and even though you wished a glorious death in battle, taking your own life seemed a better choice than to be… taken by these men. So you turned your knife and turned it towards you
“There is not need for that”, said Uthred hastily, truly scared
“I think there is”, you said defensively, holding the knife to your own chest
“We will not hurt you”, their easy way of carrying themselves turned serious, all four men looking at you wide-eyed, “I give you my word”, he said, taking a step back, his men followed him, as a sign of peace, so you relaxed your stance, “who are you?”, he asked, looking at your things
“A Viking shield maiden”, you answered quickly, “From Norway”, you said looking at the one that called you a Dane
“What is your name?”, he asked
“(Y/N), Bjorndottir, daughter of Bjorn Ironside”, his eyes went wide, as the dane’s, he all but wanted to kneel
“Bjorn, King of Kattegat? King of Norway?”, he asked, you nodded, “I’m Uhtred”, he introduced himself
“I know who you are, Uhtred of Bebbanburg, or Uthred Ragnarson, or the Dane slayer, or the Godless”, you listed 
“You heard of me”, he said with a mocking smile
“I like to “hear” of my enemies”, you said, “or my leader’s enemies”, you continued
“This are my men, Finnan, Sithric, and Osferth”, he said pointing at each of them, you nodded, acknowledging them
“Why are you alone? I saw you in the battlefield”, said Finnan, “your army is far away by now, or what’s left of it”
“Those bastards left me for dead”, you said simply, “they only wanted me for my influence, that is gone now, along with my respect”, you said quickly, you relaxed the arm that held your knife 
“Where are you heading?”, Uhtred asked
“I don’t know”, you answered truthfully
“Where would you like to go?”, he asked then
“First? dry land, I’m freezing”, you said bitterly, and they all seemed to notice, and they took another stepback, Finan walking away from your things and standing by his leader, so you walked to your clothes, drying yourself with your bloodied shirt, and then disposing of it. 
“Do you mind?”, you asked, looking at them over your shoulder, and they turned around, so you could dispose of your wet dress, and changing quickly into clothes from your bag
Once you were comfortable, you turned to the men, who turned back to look at you
“So, you have something to eat?”, you asked
Two hours past, a fire was lit, the night had fallen, and you were roasting a couple of rabbits
“Why are you here? Bjorn Ironside is not in this country”, asked Sithric, you looked back at him
“My father is a bastard who left me me as soon as he noticed I was a girl and when he got tired of humping my mother”, you said dismissively, “He is terrorizing lands further than Frankia”, you saw them share looks
“So, why are you here?”, asked Uhtred
“I wanted to make a name for myself”, you confessed, “battles, glory, lands…”
“So, what happened?”, asked Finnan, by his accent, you realized he must have been from that country they called Ireland 
“Couldn’t find any of those things”, you said simply, “who would have thought that slaughtering farmers and their families was not going to be as glorious as everyone said?”, you mocked, “I don’t like it”
“What do you want?”, he insisted
“A land to sow, a house to live in… something quiet, but I do like a good fight, I guess… I’m a sellsword now”, you whispered looking at the meat between your greasy fingers 
“Pledge your sword to me”, he demanded, “fight for me and you can settle in Cuccham, the lands I’m the Lord of”
“I don’t want to kill more innocent people, or taking things I have not earned”, you said, as terms for your allegiance 
“Good, we will not have you do any of those things”, he said, certainly, you barely nodded, “we are not very elite men, Finan here was a slave when I met him, Sihtric if the bastard son of Kjartan, and the baby monk, is the bastard son of King Alfred, turned monk, and now turned sword”
“King Alfred?”, you asked, “And Earl Kjartan?”, they only nodded, “Alright, I like this, a group of misfits, bonded by loyalty, I like it”, you said, clapping your hands, “My sword is yours, Uhtred Ragnarson, as long as you not ask of me anything that will bring me dishonor” 
He only smiled, as did their men
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deprivedreality · 1 year
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𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗧𝗬 ; 𝗡𝗘𝗧𝗘𝗬𝗔𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗟𝗟𝗬. oneshot
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word count: 1.5k request by: @aichiomei
summary: neteyam with his childhood sweetheart and mate who died before him. alternative ver for childhood sweetheart.
content/s & pairings: neteyam x omaticaya! reader. angst. mention of death and blood. heavy visualization of trauma/losing a loved one. reader is called Yaw'ne which is yn, basically beloved in navi.
ᓚᘏᗢ | masterlist | feel free to make a request too!
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"𝗠𝗔 𝗬𝗔𝗪'𝗡𝗘. . . ?" His voice, pained and hoarse. Neteyam looked at his mate dying in his arms. The disappearance of the light in her eyes turned off all sense of consciousness in his body.
"Yaw'ne! Do not— no! You can't do this to me! Yaw'ne! Not now, not ever! My love— Look at me, please!" He cried, trembling as his chest heaved from the panic and anxiety he was feeling.
"Yaw'ne, look at me!" In an attempt to make a corpse look into him, he grasped her hand and placed it on his cheek, all while his other hand pushed through her chest, where blood spilled all over. Neteyam couldn't recognize himself anymore, all he could do was feel the warmth he couldn't embrace would be the last he'd ever feel from her as she went cold and pale.
In that moment, all he could think of was the future he envisioned with her, lost in a matter of moments. The love he swore to protect, the woman he promised to cherish, and soul he offered his life to. Gone. He couldn't grasp reality completely and amidst the war cry that echoes across the depressing field, he wouldn't take his eyes off her as tears swelled from his eyes, emotions daring to spill out.
He thought that if she stayed back, such thing would never happen. How did it come to this? How could one bullet determine the faith of someone? The faith of his mate, his love? Just Why?
He couldn't take off his eyes off of Yawne, the pain evident in his eyes as he looked at hers, lifeless and dim. All colors sucked off, replaced with the impeccable reminder that she no longer was with him. And will no longer be apart of a life she was supposed to be filling with colors.
"..." Neteyam spoke no more, but the silence has never been more loud. It was a mystery, really. How a broken heart can drive a man insane.
It was hard and brutal in each passing second. As smoke filled the air, so did the grief of the people all around him amidst the time of war. The cries of agony of a man who lost his mate was what filled the silence after the immediate aftermath of a battle between the RDA and the Omaticaya people.
Those who survived knew that if the Skypeople were foolish enough to have not surrendered earlier, then Toruk Makto's son— no, a man having been bereaved of his mate would've annihilated them with no hesitation and with bloodlust.
Neteyam's screams and shouts to bring her back were painful to hear to all those who were fortunate enough to be alive. As they echoed across the silenced field stocked with the corpse of Na'vis and Humans, taunting the ears of the many Omaticayan warriors that beared and witnessed the rage of the Omaticayan Prince's grief and agony upon losing his lover.
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Neteyam never felt so conflicted in all his life. His father was Toruk Makto, yes. However, he never thought once in his life that it would be the sole reason for his forced departure from the home he's ever known. And setting all of it aside, the biggest part of not wanting to go was because his love rested with his people. And the thought of having no exact time of going back home scared him to the depth of his soul.
"I have to leave you, my love." A tear traced down his cheek and to his chin. Neteyam smiled even if he was in pain, the sides of his lips trembling as he stood in front of a boulder decorated with striking bioluminescent flowers and herbs. This was where his mate was buried, a place he almost spent his time on after he lost her.
"I'm sorry..." Neteyam whispered, butb then his knees started weakening that he had fallen down and broke into tears. He held his shoulders, as if hugging himself as he sobbed. "Please know that I don't want to do this. I want to stay with you... But I can't."
Even if he couldn't bear the pain of learning that he might as well never be able to see the memories of the life he once had, in the end, he found himself embarking on a harsh journey with his family. And although Neytiri and Jake knew about their son's dying desire to just be in the hands of the great mother just to be with Yawne, they would do everything to protect their son.
A sad soul waiting to just disappear was the person Neteyam had become. He never laughed whole heartedly nor expressed the same happiness he once had before tragedy of a broken heart befall on him. He never acted the same, focusing only on keeping his siblings align because it was the only thing Neteyam was left to do.
If he disappeared, Yawne would be disappointed of him. That is what he thinks, that deep inside, his mate would be upset if he would just off himself and leave his responsibilities as a son and a brother just to be with her.
From the very arrival of the Sully's in the Awa'atlu clan, he's always been perceived as the saddest amongst the forest children, unresponsive in daylight and sullen in the night. The village people pinpointed it. The tsahik of the Metkayina clan expressed her pity for him, to the point that he could not bear it anymore.
His brother and sister were in pain watching him cry every night, whispering the name of his deceased mate. All while he wished to be with just himself and his aching heart, in nights where he cradled himself to sleep. And kissed the necklace that only he had taken to leave with him as a part of his mate. The necklace that he weaved for his childhood sweetheart, dating back from when he had just learnt how to bead traditional jewelry at the ripe age of five just to impress his mate.
The memories that brought him back were the only thing that kept him together. He spent his life with his mate even before bonding with her as lovers. Neteyam had so much memories that the idea of it running out just made his day damp.
"Yaw'ne... It won't be long, I promise." One evening before tragedy happened, the boy had whisper as he looked at the beautiful sunset that reminded him only of one person, Yaw'ne.
The dazling gold color of the reef that blinded his eyes. The dewy-colored sky and it's undoubtedly gorgeous sight. And the atmosphere that flowed with warmth, that even if it wasn't as close to be similar to the warmth and comfort he felt by embracing her, it reminded him greatly of his mate.
Thinking about it made him smile genuinely, laughing to himself. "If things aren't the way it is, you would be sitting next to me, Yawne. You would've love the ocean."
The smile Neteyam showed, unknowingly, would be the last.
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"Dad, I wanna go home─" Even as he lay dying in the same way his late lover had died, it was the only words that came out of his mouth when he looked at his father. He thought that for once in his life, he could be a bit selfish. Neteyam struggled to breathe as he looked at his parents and at Lo'ak. Blood seeped down his mouth but he spoke once more, this time with great desperation.
"I just want to see her again... I miss her─" Neteyam cried, eyes swelling with tears. Even through Lo'ak's pleads for him to stop, Neytiri's panic and to Jake's realization, all of them could see the desperation in his eyes.
"I miss her so much..." Neteyam longed for a moment of silence and he got it. His parents grieved for him as he lay dead on the cold ocean, eyes wide open as though they stared at the sky like any other day he spent at sea.
His eyes were dim when she died. But now, his amber eyes were at its dimmest. Neteyam died that day, with a bullet ending the pain he never thought would be the one to kill him in its stead.
It was the pain that killed him, and the acceptance that made him rest alas. It would be a mistake to underestimate the influence of love, thus, accepting it would lead into eternity.
ᓚᘏᗢ @deprivedreality 2023 | do not copy my works!
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burnwater13 · 2 months
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Cad Bane, standing on a street in Mos Espa, facing Boba Fett in full armor. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 7, In the Name of Honor. Calendar from DateWorks.
Grogu had never met Cad Bane. He wasn't really sorry about that. Sometimes you hear about a person who was very important to a friend or mentor and you think, ‘Wow, I wish I knew them too’. That was the not the case for Cad Bane. 
Grogu had asked Daimyo Fett how he’d met the Duros bounty hunter and the older man hemmed and hawed and finally Fennec Shand replied for him. 
“He was unlucky.”
That pretty much settled the matter. Grogu knew that Fennec had no love lost for Fett’s one time teacher, but since the Daimyo nodded at her words, Grogu learned all he wanted to know. He’d met and spent time with people who had ended up being less a friend and more an enemy over time. He didn’t recommend it. You never really questioned why they turned out to be so awful, but you asked yourself why you didn't see through it all much sooner. 
Grogu might have said that Dr. Pershing was a person like Cad Bane. He was obsessed with what he wanted and thought he was doing the right thing and pursued it pretty relentlessly. But it had all failed and Grogu was happy about that. 
Fennec told him that Pershing was nothing like Cad Bane. 
“Coruscant is riddled with people like that. All hoping that if they could only get the attention of the people in power, they could achieve some ridiculous goal that no one else valued. The people in power called Cad Bane in to do the work that they were afraid to do themselves. Bane wasn't afraid of anything and that’s why the Daimyo is here and Bane is buried in the bantha paddock.”
Grogu was surprised at that. He didn't know why, but it seemed pretty odd. 
“That’s where I put all the… stuff I don’t want people like your pal Pershing to use for cloning projects. Trust me, if I’d had my way, Moff Gideon would have never had another chance to go after you or your dad. He would have ended up as fertilizer for the rancor’s favorite plants.”
Wow. Grogu had always know that Fennec was a very straightforward person with great tactical skills and a first class strategic mind, but he forgot how nuanced she could be. She was kind of the opposite of Cad Bane. 
When he first met Fennec, Grogu was kind of worried about having another master assassin in his life. IG-11 had been very effective at that work and as person who generally thought that all life was good, it was quite a challenge to have friends who made a living at ending lives. Even if those people were volunteers according to his dad. 
But the more time he spent with Fennec, the more Grogu realized that she didn't just end people. She solved problems. If she could do that without ending the person, then fine. Take those Nikto gang members. She didn’t pick them all off during some sort of clean up operation after they had dealt with the Scorpenek annihilator droids. She just got rid of the ring leaders and that sent a message more effectively than a complete blood bath would have. At least that's what his dad told him. 
The Mandalorian was very impressed with the levels of restraint that Fennec had displayed. Considering the Mandalorian view of enemies, Grogu figured that Fennec had displayed the patience of a Jedi Master. 
“Buddy, I don't think you want to tell her that. I’m not sure she reveres the Jedi as much as you do.”
But Din Djarin was wrong about that. Fennec had told him once that she never got involved in the problems that included the Jedi.
“Listen kid, the whole point of the work I do is to solve problems. If I’m not solving the problem, I don't get paid. The whole point of the Jedi was to solve the same problems I was generally assigned to resolve, but they had access to weapons I could never bring to bear. There’s no such thing as a fair fight which is why I don’t take risks like that. The Jedi always had an advantage, so I found other problems to solve. That’s why I’m still here and a lot of other folks aren’t.”
Fennec hadn’t been smug about that either. She hadn’t pointed out that the Jedi had been almost entirely wiped out. She didn’t say ‘I told you so’ or anything like that. She had patted her midsection where her mods were and that’s what convinced Grogu that she and the Daimyo were nothing like Cad Bane. Boba Fett had gone out of his way to save her. And she had stuck around to help him solve problems on Tatooine. 
This was definitely the way.
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vampirevatican · 1 year
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so let's talk...
they cloned tyrone (spoilers and all)
SUBLIMINAL MESSAGES
"it's in the water", "straighter is greater", "i got that ruckus", "got damn! fried chicken", "grape juice", the shot of an old american dream like poster, depicting a white man, til it pans out to the ghetto.
the movie hints to it's audience from the start that this? this shit runs deep. yeah everyone is carrying on like normal, so does the movie, and no one bats an eye until it's deliberately pointed out. for me it says a lot that i can only convey or remind folks with in the way fontaine treats junebug in the first half.
hood niggas don't wanna be hood niggas.
and that right there is exactly fontaine. not only to just the brother he lost, but extended to junebug, yo yo, charles, his momma. sure he a product of his environment but he ain't got much of a choice and that's depicted when he does everything he can to get to the bottom of what the fuck is going on up 'til he literally loses control.
EXISTENTIAL CRISIS
seeing another you. loosing complete autonomy while being conscious of it.
what slick and 'taine saw? enough to make any human question the fabric of their reality, if they're real, if their memories are really theirs, how much can they recall in those memories and if they are recalling everything. when slick saw fontaine again and when fontaine first faced his previous body. 'taine's drive was figuring out if he's really him. hell as he was grappling with the chaos that it brings in his mind, what does he say when he finally snaps out of it?
im me.
as humans our lives, decisions, etc. come from some peace of mind that we have autonomy. the fact that we can say and do as we please, even if it's within a boundary, is enough for us to feel some kind of calmness in the thought that we have power over ourselves. can't control the world around me, can't do big shit, but i can do this. the little things.
all i could think was, 'but what if there's another you.. an original you.' and when his autonomy was put into question, him backing off like that and accepting it is a form of nihilistic defeat. he can't do shit but what he's always done, and if that means he or anyone else he loves doesn't die? then it's something he deals with, until it's too much to bear.. until the cycle of everyday (that he now knows is a cycle) weighs heavy and the only thing to pull him out of it? junebug. the good memories of his brother.
THE CLONES AND TIME
i had this originally titled and future, but the point here is the original/old fontaine and his plan.
i feel that old fontaine made that deal not just because of ronnie, or the decayed blood he has to wipe up, i feel like that's part of the defeatist mindset he has. he decided the "can't beat em, join em" route was better. that assimilating to what white folks have wanted since fucking eugenics was better, even if it's not he reasons that joining is better than just dying out.
"assimilation is better than annihilation."
ofc, our fontaine, doesn't believe any of that bullshit. that the whole operation is fucked. old fontaine says that it's something they both know but i agree and disagree... they both know that's what white america wants. for old fontaine if that's enough to not have another incident like ronnie? good enough but our fontaine?? he's got junebug he's thinking about, other little kids in the here and now, the dreams that yo yo had and still has, everyone in the hood who wants out but just can't seem to get out.
CONTROL GROUPS
"tyrone... ain't that you?"
now i didn't grow up in the hood,or rather the projects, but i was near it. small knit group, everyone knows each other more or less.
the drug dealer, the pimp, the pastor, the kids, the aunties/grandmas/mamas/misses.
in the black community we all know someone like that or have heard of them, and the end of the movie shows this. it's more than just a call back and a chance to play a hit by miss badu.
these regulars? they're the control group the second in command was talking about. they're the ones that don't quite get the same treatment as the experimental group (i.e yo yo, biddy, junebug etc.) they're key players to making the ecosystem (experiment/operation) run smoothly. which is why the convo of fontaine deciding to go with slick and yo yo is integral to the ending and vice versa.
to break the cycle, the system? everyone's gotta rally together. country wide. (in movie context ofc)
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witchqueenvisenya · 19 days
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Could you talk a little about your love for visenya? Visenya is my favorite conqueror and I love reading people talking about her. 😊
okay, so visenya is my preferred conqueror, if not my fave, and honestly, my thoughts on her fluctuate a lot mainly because while there are clear markers of how she was perceived, there isn't a lot of interiority, imo, when compared to aegon. i'd put rhaenys in the same boat as her, but this post isn't about her, so.
this is going to be a lot of headcanonning so look away if you aren't into that.
i'd be dishonest if i said that visenya being a warrior isn't a huge part of why she's one of my overall favourite asoiaf characters. asoiaf... is indeed a series where female roles in a fantasy medieval society are explored more than in other comparable lit, but there is seldom a character as intriguing as to simultaneously hold the position of eldest child, bear independent power in the form of vhagar, possess martial prowess in wielding a sword, and also hold no small amount of political power, especially as the yin to rhaenys' yang, the dagger to her honey (although, as i've talked before, these demarcations aren't absolute and i resent the fandom for drawing sharp lines), as well as a sort of alienating (for westerosi society) power in the form of her witchcraft.
so, visenya is, for all intents and purposes, an extremely powerful woman in a world where such a thing is often measured by at best, a woman's ability to manage a kingdom but not really delve into all its affairs (or indeed, even help in matters that usually a man, in such a medieval society, would take care of). because yes, at the time of conquest there were such women as meria martell and sharra arryn who were powerful to different degrees, but unlike visenya or her sister, these women weren't as deeply involved in military minutiae (as far as we can tell. although dorne being dorne, meria might well have been some sort of warrior in her days, but we have no record of her engaging in such an expansion of her lands as we see with visenya, who really only stood to rule dragonstone with aegon as a husband initially) or have any high fantasy elements attached to them that set them a touch apart.
which is sort of the point.
visenya is one of three siblings descended from a destroyed empire, belonging to a family that fled annihilation. i've always seen the targaryens as having been born with a sense of flight, in all senses of the word. they notoriously survive, and they inevitably cling onto a level of power that no one in the world can match. they have no natural competitors, especially as long as the dragons stayed alive. visenya, as the eldest child, is someone i've seen as having an even higher drive for power than aegon, whatever his motivation for conquest may have been--but i've never seen it as power for power's sake.
i see it as her adopting a natural sense of alignment with what she believes should be her place in the world, not really as a cartoonish supreme ruler of all, but as someone, who probably dealt with such a sense of responsibility to her house that she (unprompted) took on all the skills and knowledge that someone of her blood should know without fail, that she trained harder and rode her dragon more fiercely than her siblings, probably taught herself some type of valyrian sorcery, all in preparation of her future as aegon's wife, as a lady of dragonstone. aegon, who, in any avenue, would never seek to surpass her, but who she saw as someone primarily under her protection. (i'd like to point out that i don't think she imagined she would ever just be a medieval standard appropriate wife or like, a childbearing machine. i think she very much saw herself as an advisor, as counsel, as someone who would always have a sort of elder sister wisdom that aegon would need. and indeed, aegon acquiesced to her when it was needed for the realm, but also visenya acquiesced to her brother's emotional state, probably many times before rhaenys' death, and especially after that, in however much capacity as aegon allowed).
i wouldn't call it foresight or anything on her part, but eldest siblings do often seek to control everything to a pathological degree, which is why she must have immediately had plans upon plans when aegon eventually revealed his desire to conquer westeros. a desire which even if she didn't share, felt right to her, probably felt like something her ancestry might be in concord with, and a desire which she and her siblings enacted with academic caution and then blunt militaristic force, and then maintained through compromise and understanding and subtle manipulation.
i do have thoughts about her non-platonic relationship with aegon and rhaenys, and about her son and then aenys, but it'll probably be another post. however, i will say this. i've always called bull on that line about aegon marrying one for duty and one for love. i think between the three of them, these two things warped and shaped in a way so utterly unfathomable to westeros that the only way they could see it was as a binary, divisive, often competetive romance hinged on the personality differences between visenya and rhaenys, and how the latter was more conventionally desirable in a westerosi sense and thus the rightful receiver of the king's affection. instead of, you know. the older witch who wielded a man's weapon and needed to pull a baby out of some magic cauldron bc her husband didn't like to touch her >:/
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marabarl-and-marlbara · 3 months
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notes from church today;
pastor wasn:t there to tell me good morning saints of the living god, instead it was the elder who usually fills in when pastor is missing -- he mistakes volume for meaning, i feel; lots of yelling about a new world order, jewish peoples in control everywhere you look, the great new deal, the SDA doctrine classified as hate crime, the need to prepare for this false country to imprison us of the SDA, for the sacrifice of being of the country of SDA is to be promised death at hands of our enemies who are streaked through these false lands like some toxic ingredient and so-and-so; in my head i imagine this straw-man figure based on an ask some months (years?) ago asking why SDA instead of some more accepting and less-bigoted church, and in my head (still) i feel the answer is obvious: i am a bigot! but less cheekily and more seriously: it:s like how archangel:nemesis seems to play a Hamelin song in attracting peoples to the evils of Scientology and similarly why people look towards Catholicism instead of the more boring flavors of Christianity--all the rules and societal substitutions these rigorous faiths place onto an applicant are like imposing purposes not unlike an odd and wanting submissive relationship; the yoke of religious trauma (tone joking) more appealing than one of some volunteered and easing 'work'; the glitz and pomp of the new languages and new ceremonies that make the faith feel more real than essentially showing up to a boring social club of a bored love; it was making me think of disco elysium:s little paintings for the belief-things (i forget what they are called; your Fascism and Communism and those types of things) where they seem to me as perfect idolatrous captures of 'crushing from insect,' something not really explained but felt as invisible hands take invisible chisel to your invisible stonework and claywork and slowly begin a reshaping into an invisible artwork, and certainly it has an appearance to it. in my mind: there is an undercurrent of the muted horn inside SDA as it poses itself as antagonist to the catholic antagonist--a position that Our Great Adversary likely is unaware of--and does so baking in a shadow cast by every-one else outside the church; though: outside of annihilation nibbling at the belief center of SDA (may-be that is its crush of insect), it little bears resemblance to a muted horn. the voice from underground stifled and speaking through idolatrous form though the conspiracy itself only witnessed through the image of muted horn on stamp, on side-walk chalk, scrawl on trash-cans, what-ever.
what-ever,
what-ever.
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chloe12801 · 1 year
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Hi, I'm begging for some Franklin Clinton relationship headcanons but with a male partner. I love him so much and honestly it would make my whole life
So sorry this took eons! My college courses have been annihilating me 🤧 hope you enjoy what I’ve come up with <3
TW: slight smut, not graphic
Headcanons: Franklin x Male Reader
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Franklin is going to top, he won’t be fond of bottoming unless you really want him to. In that case, he will on occasion just for you.
He won’t want people to know he bottoms though, he’s not as repressed as Michael but he’s definitely not super comfortable with this aspect of himself yet.
In fact, he didn’t really realize he liked men until you told him you were attracted to him. It caught him off guard and made him start questioning certain things he did before, like staring at Lamar a bit too long or having certain fleeting thoughts about men from time to time.
He never considered those things as indicators of his bisexuality, but you awoke a new discovery inside of him.
You’ll have to take the lead a lot in the relationship simply because he’s not sure how to with another man. That includes asking him to be your boyfriend and initiating intimacy.
At first he’s going to keep your relationship on the low. Exploring his sexuality is scary and although he’s not homophobic, he does have internalized homophobia at first.
The first people who know are Trevor, Michael, and Lamar in that order.
Trevor and Michael were easy to come out to because they both have gay tendencies themselves. Lamar was harder simply because they have known each other forever and Frank didn’t want Lamar to feel differently about him.
Lamar of course took it well, being only slightly offended that Franklin thought something like that would ruin their brotherhood.
It won’t be long before he gets sick of hiding and starts holding your hand, kissing you, and doing other romantic things publicly with you.
He’s always been super romantic and loving to his girlfriends, so he’s going to do the same for his boyfriend. Stargazing, strolls on the beach at night, etc.
The first time you have sex he’s going to have an existential crisis. One because he just fucked a man and two because it felt better than vaginal penetration. Just a lot of discoveries about himself at once.
Once you finally convince him to bottom, he’s going to have an even bigger existential crisis for similar reasons.
He does like sensations of bottoming, but the actual submission part is hard for him. He feels like he’s the ‘girl’ in this position and it bothers him.
Basically, he has bit of a rigid sexual dynamic concept and if he’s not doing the fucking he feels too feminine. Just more internalized homophobia he has to work through.
As time goes on he learns to cope with these feelings though, letting himself feel pleasure without societal norms causing him distress.
The longer he’s with you the more he will prefer being with men, especially you.
He’s going to be very protective and loving towards you, he’s like a teddy bear. It will be a good relationship regardless of longevity.
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scp-tiggles · 5 months
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Scp 049
50% Ler | 50% Lee
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As a ler
• Okay this man is one of the nicer anomalies to get wrecked by
• His main reasoning to go after lee’s is if they’re sad, he treats laughter like the cure to anything (basically bro is the personification of ‘laughter is the best medicine’)
• Which, he’s not wrong. It is! You see, instead of having his plague ‘insta death’ touch, it makes the victim experience tickling all over for about 10-15 minutes! (His sub ability being it cures any disease afterwards.)
• But, If he’s in a ler mood? Pray.
• The man is fast, he loves to chase down lee’s and carry them back to his cell to tickle them. How? Well, by simply strapping them to a medical table and using doctor themed tickling items to get the job done :3
• Also, he and 079 team up a LOT. So you best hope that 079 has you in his database so it doesn’t go snitching to 049 about wanting to capture you.
• Teases. He fucking loves to tease!
• “Oh, my. Doctor, are you okay? You’re laughing quite a bit. Is something humorous?”
• “Yes, yes. Keep laughing! It’s good for you.”
• “Hm..i see, [insert tklish spot here]..well, i think i’ll just have to test further to see how ticklish it actually is.”
• “Tickle? That word embarrasses you? Hm, how peculiar! I never knew a word could embarrass someone..well, then. Tickle, tickle, tickle~”
• Does have a few favorite lee’s, mainly 035. Usually 035….okay yeah 035 is his favorite lee but he will still go after others-!
• Will use his wings and claws to bear hug and tickle lees, especially if there is more than 1.
As a lee
• Cannot take what he dishes out oml-
• Teases? Can’t stand them!
• Being tickled by 035? Can’t take it!
• The dude is basically a walking ticklish spot, but he is mainly ticklish at his neck, ribs, and back’s of the knees. His wings acting as a sort of death spot that he only really lets 035 tickle.
• Raspberries and nibbles annihilate him. Especially at the neck. Will be on the floor in minutes.
• His laughter is very, er..cackley? Sounds sort of the joker’s laugh mixed with snorts. Its very funny to hear, not gonna lie. plus he lets out bird like chirps but you didn’t hear that from me
• Teases that work best are generally remarking ones, compliments on his laugh, how ticklish he is, etc!
• Loves wing scratches for after care, becomes a massive snuggle bug if he gets them.
Random facts
• Loves anything butterscotch or caramel flavored, ice cream, candies, etc.
• Has a shit ton of lavender scented stuff, it helps clear his head.
• Technically works in the medical ward of site 19, though he’s only really ever used if someone somehow caught the flu or another sickness.
• He and 035 are in a relationship, kinda? They’re cuddly, all partner like. But both are old and don’t get the relationship terms. Don’t bother explaining it to them they still wont get it, everyone has tried.
• He can take off his mask! He just doesn’t do it often due to germaphobia, though he’s working to take it off more :]
• He prefers being called ‘Viktor’, as it was his human name before turning into a half corvid tickle monster thing-
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jomiddlemarch · 9 months
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We are never ever getting back together
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“Listen, ‘Mione, I’m just going to say it. We don’t work, love,” Ron announced, sitting on the armchair he’d dragged over to face the sofa in what was generally referred to as Hermione’s reading room at Grimmauld Place, in that it was the old library which she’d spent roughly a week scouring, sorting, and reshelving the books that hadn’t tried to bite or burn her Muggle-born hands. She’d Transfigured some of the uglier pieces of furniture from other rooms and made an approximated mash-up of her favorite parts of the Hogwarts Library and the Bodleian. She’d reached a détente with the only portrait that remained, some wizard ancestor of Sirius’s who could at least tolerate a witch with an appreciation for old runes who hadn’t tried to chuck the moldy lot of Hagalaz into the fireplace and who arranged a reading pedestal with an open book to alleviate the boredom of the past two hundred years. She had a bedroom on the third floor, down the hall from the bath, but she was most often found tucked up in a corner of the reading room, so it hadn’t taken any genius on Ron’s part to beard her in her den, so to speak.
The rest of the house was empty, which was either a wise precaution or the stupidest decision he’d ever made in his life.
“What do you mean?” Hermione said, trying to keep her voice even. “I don’t understand—”
“Yes, you do,” he said, looking up at her. He’d picked the chair with the low, squashy seat, that hadn’t taken the Transfiguration especially well, so that she’d focused on the nap of the dark velvet and let the springs go hang. It made him a supplicant, now, which she supposed was a canny decision, one she might expect from someone who was a grandmaster at Wizard chess. “You know and you and I both know you’d never say a word if it was left to you. We’d be married seventy years with a dozen curly-haired ginger grandchildren, and you’d sacrifice everything rather than say it.”
“You don’t want me,” Hermione said. He’d taken Padma to the Yule Ball and he’d left her with Harry when they were hunting Horcruxes—why was she surprised? It still felt like a Bludger to the chest or what she imagined one would be, having had no interest in playing Quidditch for the duration of her Hogwarts education and then having been forbidden (ha!) by Madame Pomfrey after Dolohov’s near-fatal curse in the Department of Mysteries. She tried to focus on Ron’s blue eyes, the furrow in his broad forehead. 
“You don’t want me, love,” Ron said. “I don’t want you to start calling me Ronald in that carefully not-exasperated-yet-totally-exasperated tone, bossing me about like you’re Molly Weasley Junior. I don’t want to squabble and fight and then be those people who are contemptuous or bored with each other. You’ll never walk away, you’re too loyal, not just to me but to the idea of us, and you can’t bear that it was a mistake. Your ideas got us through the War, saved everyone’s bloody lives, but this one’s wrong.”
“A mistake,” Hermione repeated. 
“Well, not a mistake. It made sense to try but it was only meant to be a date or two for us, don’t you think?” Ron said, giving her a wry smile. He needed a shave and a haircut and he’d put on a stone of pure muscle once they’d won the final battle. He was a man looking up at her and she was bedraggled and thin, a streak of white in her chestnut curls like a virgin priestess’s filet. The sleeves of her jersey flopped over her wrists to her knuckles. “Don’t take it so hard, it’s not your fault.”
“Seems like it is,” she muttered. “If you’re breaking up with me.”
“You know better than that,” Ron said. “Think about it—if we hadn’t been dealing with the possible end of the Wizarding world as we know if and the annihilation of the entire Muggle-born and Muggle population—”
“It’s called genocide, Ron,” she put in. He rolled his eyes.
“Fine, if we hadn’t been dealing with all that and the genocide and you having to hide your parents, et cetera, if it had been normal, we would have gone out a few times. A Hogsmeade weekend, a dance, a walk around the lake. We would have snogged without having to break it off to face down a melagomaniac—”
“Megalomaniac,” she corrected.
“Bloody Riddle. Anyway, we could have tried it out and seen that all there was was a flicker of attraction but mostly friendship,” Ron said. “I like you, ‘Mione, and I think you like me. That’s enough. We don’t have to be this perfect love story and you know we won’t be.”
“You have to work at relationships,” Hermione said.
“Not this bloody hard, love,” Ron said. The kindness in his voice was too close to pity and it hurt. 
“There’s no need to be rude,” she snapped.
“I don’t mean you’re difficult and I’m a saint, far from it,” Ron laughed. “I mean, we’re alike in all the ways that make it hard and not alike in the ways we need. You don’t have to work this bloody hard, ‘Mione, to be happy with someone and I truly think that if you weren’t with me, you’d be able to find the person you want.”
“I suppose you have someone you want to be with instead of me,” she said.
“Nope,” he said. “I just want to a chance to figure it out. To play, to not have everything be so bloody serious. Everyone pairing off and repopulating the entire Wizarding world before we turn twenty-one, for sweet Circe’s sake.”
“Your mother won’t like that,” Hermione said.
“She can stuff it,” Ron declared. “Besides, Fleur’s up the duff again and this time it’s twins, so that’s her sorted for a bit. Bill has his work cut out arguing that Shell Cottage can hold all of them and they don’t need to move closer to the Burrow. Plus, I think Ginny’s going to sign with the Harpies and Mum is up in arms about the first Weasley witch not to sit her NEWTs in like a thousand years, which is bosh because there weren’t NEWTs a thousand years ago.”
Hermione smiled. He was right, she did like him an awful lot, when the other parts weren’t clamoring for her attention or generally getting in the way.
“I’m right about that last bit, aren’t I?” Ron said. “The NEWTs bit?”
“Yes, they’re more recent than a thousand years,” Hermione said. She squared her shoulders and pressed her lips together. She had to like it or lump it and it seemed like lump it was the easier option at the moment.
“I don’t want you thinking it’s because I don’t find you attractive,” Ron said. He laid one big hand on her denim covered knee where her robes had fallen apart and she felt how warm he was. “Thinking about shagging you and then getting to do it were quite honestly the only things getting me through the worst of it these past few years. It’s why I left, innit, when the Horcrux was messing with me, being jealous, thinking you were with Harry when I wanted you all for myself. But that’s not going to be enough for us, for you or for me—”
“I’m to believe you’re being sincere?” Hermione asked. Ron grinned, squeezed her knee and the bit of her thigh that was right above it.
“I got there on my own about not being enough for you. George caught me moping, gave me some older brother advice and general whatfor, telling me I was a twit for thinking getting to shag the brightest witch of our time would be enough for me, that I wasn’t as shallow as that and to buck up,” Ron admitted.
“I would have thought Bill,” Hermione said.
“Nah, I wouldn’t have taken him seriously,” Ron said. “He married a half-Veela, what does he know about being with a regular witch? For the record and before you get your knickers in a twist, I’d say the same about Hagrid, it’s not anti-creature bias.”
“Seems to me you shouldn’t be mentioning my knickers,” Hermione retorted.
“That’s my girl,” Ron replied. “Though, my entire point was that I am quite enticed by your knickers and what’s in them. It’s just not enough for a long-term relationship and you and I, we aren’t made for a fling.”
“If we were, I think we must have flung it by now anyway,” Hermione said.
“We do have the house to ourselves if you’re interested in a last hurrah, love,” Ron said, waggling his eyebrows and smiling. It was the look in his eyes, an appreciative lust, that told her he wasn’t joking.
“And what would you do if I called your bluff and took you up on the offer?” Hermione asked.
“This,” he said, both hands suddenly at her waist, lifting her off the couch and onto his lap. “I’d have my way with you and give you something to remember me by while that git Draco works through a whatchamacallit redemption arc and gets up the gumption to make a move—”
“Draco Malfoy?” Hermione exclaimed. She ended up wrapping her arms around Ron’s neck to keep her balance. His were steady at her hips.
“He fancies you, that’s obvious,” Ron said. “But it is a two-way street. Maybe you’d prefer our snakeslayer Neville? He’s got a whole striding the windswept moors thing these days that’s rather dashing, like that Heath Ledger bloke you told me about in the Muggle book, but without the creepy parts. Or Zabini? Never took the Mark and he’s nearly as clever as you and mad fit.”
“You mean Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights, who’s frankly not much like Neville in a good way. This is a very odd conversation to be having with my ex-boyfriend-and-undeclared-fiancé,” Hermione said. She left out how it was even odder than they appeared to be on the verge of shagging, as if that was something one could be on the verge of. 
“That’s why it’s best we’re about to be best friends,” Ron said, though the word friends was lost a little as he nuzzled the side of her neck. “I’ll have to cede all the filthy details to Ginny though. You can just give me the broad strokes, hm-mm, like that…”
It was all rather a blur after that, hands and lips and Ron muttering about how her skin felt like silk and a grand tussle over denims being pulled off and not Vanished, not this pair which he agreed made her arse look amazing, and she probably would have blushed to recall it afterward anyway, but Harry walking in, stopping dead in his tracks like he’d been hit with Petrificus Totalus, then choking out “You were breaking up—” before he fled the room made her almost wish she had not taken an iron-clad vow against ever using an Obliviate again. 
“He’ll get over it,” Ron said calmly enough after they’d finished, laughing madly like they were drunk on Firewhisky and not multiple orgasms. 
“And if he doesn’t?” Hermione said.
“You leave that to me, love. That’s what friends are for,” Ron said.
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rxugesworld · 5 months
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000. The Rising.
CW; Mentions of gore scenery, suicide, murder, blood. Not for those who are faint at heart. Viewer discretion is advised <3
WORD COUNT; 2547 · MASTERLIST · CNO !!
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Soft tired footfalls crunch through the ground lined with cold, damp grass. There is a great accomplishment that has been made today by this huntsmen.
Even so, they are exhausted. They walk through the valley in hopes of finding game and game they did find. A huge deer is their find and they're returning to camp with it.
Ronan is one of these devoted men. His blue eyes blink as they blur from exhaustion. He must remember that they must make it home first before he can rest.
There are ten of them, wanderers and fugitives of the clan of L'obscurité. Their clan migrated from the Dessécher empire because of their leader's mistakes.
Unfairly treated for those unruly mistakes, they were forced to evacuate and leave. Which leads to where they are poised now, the heart of the forest in which the women and children rest and the men hunt and chop wood for the warmth of the flames that lick up in the bonfire by night.
Hunger rose within him at that thought. Where there was fire, there was stew bubbling in pots. With the deer they caught, there'd surely be a feast.
He glanced towards the other hunters, taking in their wary looks. It is only then that he realizes, they're all scared.
This is wrong. He remembers the path they had crossed back home. Blood splattered on the ground, a vile stench of corpses too ruined to recognize and there were even remains of what seemed to be human beings. Cannibals could live in these forests and that was no good.
Ronan returns his gaze upfront where the leader of this hunting party was. Once again, Lev had fallen into the deeper part of himself. He's been that way ever since they were shut out of the empire. Perhaps old age was getting to him though no one could possibly put a finger on it. But what they did know was Lev was no longer the cheerful old man he had once been back home.
He's seen things that he shouldn't have seen, heard things he shouldn't have been there to hear and even done things that he shouldn't have committed; this included betraying his own clan for the Rougé clan to take their place. He's become filled with guilt and he's determined to gain their trust again.
Lev walked through the woods, ignoring the mutters of complaints about aching feet or even Hunger. It's the way he's always been and no one could change it even if they tried.
They reached a part of the forest that parted to an open field, there's a silence when they see it. This is the field the dead lie.
It is here where they bury their loved ones and the men who fought bravely for them to escape the Rougé's skillfully trained annihilators.
Lev did not stop, but they did. He turns back and calls out. "Come on." There is no emotion in his voice and it demanded no questioning or denial. Whatever Lev said was law if they were in the wild.
The other eight hunters begrudgingly walked but Ronan stayed where he was, staring at the vastly open sunlit space. He could see the grass grew higher than the last time he came here.
A recollection of memories flurry into his mind quicker than he could push them away. His wife, Rachel, died due to the attacks of the annihilators and so did his three siblings then his father died of a heart attack while his mother killed herself because she couldn't bear living without his father.
A depressing feel erupts in him. The last time he'd been here, it was the funeral of his dearest mother. He had watched her go underground, completely and utterly numb. He's lost so much...
Lev's deep and croaky voice snaps him out of his reverie. "Ronan, get over here!" He demands, causing Ronan to turn back to look at him.
"No." Lev seemed utterly surprised when he said no, much to his satisfaction. "I want to see them." Ronan did not wait for permission, he ran forward and through the boulders and rocks. He made it to the ground, ignoring the shouts to come back.
He ran through the grass and found the markings of his wife's grave, it brought him to a halt. The grave is open. It's open? He is startled and looks at the other graves. All were open. The dirt that had been over them had been dug up and were in neat piles. It was horrific.
Their dead were dug up and made way with. Where were they brought? Finally, Lev catches up to him. A scolding was nearly escaping the old man's lips when he saw that everything was empty.
"We need to go. Now." Lev finally manages, absolutely shaken up by the situation. It is only now that Ronan realizes Lev's been hiding something from them.
"Why are you shaken up?" He asks, facing Lev with a frown on his lips. "What are you hiding?" Lev turns away and tries to walk away but Ronan wrenches him back forward.
Lev's face was streaked with tears, Ronan knew immediately something was amidst. In a shaky breath, he spoke. "What did you do?"
---
Alexander sat by the foot of the tree while waiting for Lev and Ronan. The old man had ordered them to stay put and be on guard while he deals with the rebel. Truth be told, Alexander was quite happy that Ronan was being punished. He loathed the young man who was too arrogant for his own good.
He blew smoke rings as he finished his cigar. Lev would've disapproved of it. Ren had reminded him but he could care less. He was absolutely exhausted and wanted to something comforting and to Alexander, nothing was as comforting as smoking a cigar while waiting for his rival to return with his tail in his legs.
A grin comes on his lips, causing Ren to raise an eyebrow. "Have you gone mad?" Ren asks carefully, his green eyes holding on Alexander's purple ones. "I have not." He assures his best friend as he continues smoking with no fear.
There's a sound of crunching. Alexander's head swivels at that. It's Leticia, the only woman in this party of 'huntsmen'. She is limping too. She passes him and walks to Ren, plopping down next to him. "Need anything?" Alexander asks in quite a rude tone. Ren stared daggers at his best friend before turning to the woman, regarding her with a blank stare.
Leticia did not answer nor could she for she began coughing out blood and holding her stomach. Her arm flails out to try and grab one of the men's arms but failing. It is only now that they notice her leg had wounds, wounds so deep that they could clearly see her bone. It made Alexander shudder as he steps back.
The woman grasps at the ground and jerks, an inhumane shriek escapes her bringing the men to cover their ears. Then she drops dead. At least... for a moment. Her body twitches again as it began jerking, growling is heard. Dark red liquid drips onto the ground below where the grass absorbs it, the woman looks up. Her eyes were hollow black, dripping with crimson liquid. Yet they were set on the two men before her.
Ren gripped his sword as he waits while Alexander poises to run if need be. The woman looked lifeless and yet moving. An undead in the flesh. Leticia gave another inhumane shriek as she charged forward. Hunger filled her, Hunger for their blood. Hunger for their death.
---
Ronan sits back down, his stomach lurching with disgust. To think that Lev would hide such a thing.. He opens his mouth to speak but they were interrupted by the sound of screams.
His head swivels to see Ren and Alexander stumbling through the field towards them with frantic expressions. Lev's eyebrows furrow with annoyance but he waited until they reached them.
"Holy shit. Holy shit." Alexander pants at an absolute loss for words. Ren is next to him, collapsing on the ground. Their breaths were heavy. Ronan quickly helped them up.
"What happened?" Ronan asked but then he was pushed aside by Lev. Lev's purple eyes ran through their surroundings quickly. There's a rustling near them, he had heard it.
Silence. Complete silence.
Then there's a growl in the near right. Ronan's eyes widen when some creature charges at them, nearly managing to grab Lev if Ren hadn't thrashed his blade through its head.
The male staggered back from the body, all four sets of eyes stare at the dead body which was still twitching. Ronan's lips part to ask the question that was in all of their heads but when they hear more rustling, it shuts again.
"We have to go." Lev says, his voice betrayed his emotions quickly. He was panicking and it's heard in his voice.
Ronan's ocean eyes scan their surroundings, hand quickly accompanying the hilt of the sword that he carried sheathed in its holder. A glance to Alexander and Ren was enough to know that they too were preparing for the dangers that were ahead of them.
In a split of a second, the undead rose from the ground below them, grasping onto the ground and reaching out for the living. An earsplitting scream is heard from one of them as it launched itself closer to them.
Thrusting his blade forward, Ronan managed to stab the undead creature with ease but it was harder to kill than expected. Its hands groped the blade, shrieking wildly.
The trio made quick work with the dead. But when they hear a choked gasp, they are met with surprise. Lev had been dragged away by the bloodthirsty creatures. Alexander protested with the attempt of saving the man. "We should help—" "No, we can't." Ronan stops him immediately. "It's a futile and suicidal attempt. He's lost." Alexander glowers at him but runs on with them.
Ronan's heart felt like it was in his ears as the beating grew too loud to handle. Behind them, they could hear what undoubtedly was Lev's screams. The creatures had divided him amongst themselves. As they reached the peak of the mountain and back into the woods, all three gave one last glance towards the valley.
A dark mass could be seen even in the tall grass that was the fields of the valley. Alexander shudders as he watches even from a distance, they could still make out the gruesome feast that was being displayed.
---
They had rushed as fast as they could back to the village where they were supposed to be heading to but failed to do so because of their...encounter. They'd had to take the longer route due to fear of bumping into more of those ghastly things.
They arrive in camp, half-expecting a warm welcome of a fire and the sounds of the children laughing. But no, they were met with worse. Much, much worse.
Ronan immediately detected a rather unusual atmosphere the moment they'd neared the camp. It was quiet, it was never that way. Not even when they were in the middle of mourning for lost soldiers.
He stops abruptly and since he was leading the other two, they also stopped as well. Alexander was about to make a rather rude remark demanding to know why they'd been stopped altogether but the somber look on Ronan's face shut him up immediately.
Ren stares at Ronan, trembling. "What?" Ronan presses a finger on his lips as they crept closer towards the entrance of the camp. Its eerie silence was deafening and it was creeping all the men out to even walk properly. Each of them wobbled on their feet as they move closer and closer.
But they'd barely reached the entrance when an unmistakable shriek is heard from the inside of it. The same sounds they'd heard from the valley. It's the creatures. They're here too.
Ronan unsheathes his sword in one swift motion as he slashes open one of the creatures that were dashing towards them, charging forward while swinging his sword gallantly.
Ren followed too, leaving a frozen Alexander there. Alexander, having witnessed Leticia's transformation, was traumatized and he found himself unable to move even as two vicious masses were moving towards him with Hunger in their blood red eyes.
A horrifying shriek escapes him as he's dragged, caught immediately by the bloodhungry creatures. Ren turns back, shouting for him but he knew it was no use.
Alexander is gone.
Ronan swiftly deals with the mass before him, turning quickly as his purple eyes widen in shock. Ren. The poor guy had unsheathed a dagger from the holder of his belt and stabbed himself. The creatures were hungrily feasting on his dying body. His gaze remaining on Ronan's. He was not screaming. He accepted his fate.
The male's fingers clench at the sword he's holding. He is the last survivor of the L'obscurité, what use is it to keep living? No, he refused to think that way as he fights through the night.
He enters the camp and ducks behind one of the houses they'd managed to form with the little materials. He could see human remains everywhere. It is a sickening sight, he could feel his stomach turn with disgust.
His lips are a thin line as he looks around, seeing people who he'd known and had interacted with. People who he'd promised to keep safe. Tears threaten to escape his eyes but he refused to let them. He mustn't cry. Not now.
He enters one of the houses, this one was where the healing mage was supposed to be. He looks around, expecting it to be empty. It was not. There was the healing mage, dead. He was not dead from being eaten though. It seemed it was suicide at the very least.
There were words written on the walls of his room, all written with blood. His own blood? Ronan looked and read it out loud. "L'obscurité is cursed. Every person shall die. Every person will die if they have L'obscurité blood."
He stares angrily at the deceased man before him. So he cursed them all. So much for the trust everyone put on him. "I will not die." He says defiantly to the deceased body. "I refuse to die." The words barely left him when a chuckle escapes the "deceased" man.
The mage straightens up, grinning like a Devil. "Yes, yes you will." Ronan had barely managed to unsheathe his sword when one sliced through him.
He feels his world tilting as he fell to his knees. The mage only smirks before everything turns black. He is dead.
L'obscurité shall be cursed forevermore.
---
Many years later, a six year-old girl stares out the window of the castle. Her purple eyes and white hair make her undoubtedly a L'obscurité born.
She is the sixth child of the emperor and empress. The only daughter and princess. She is also born to be cursed and killed one day. Either by her own accord or by someone else's.
But her? She will change fate. One way or the other.
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⋆ tags ₊⊹ ; @reneezsq.
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ingoodjesst · 1 year
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man it does not stop getting me that aki is so haunted by the loss of himeno. i know i am just full of brainrot but it just hangs over him and the narrative, and the anime in particular highly emphasizes it with tons of motifs. and like, even though he cared a lot about the rookies he was looking out for, their deaths didn't haunt them like hers did. when you really truly deeply care about someone... it sticks with you it pricks right at the core of ur heart. i actually can't believe i forgot for a long time that aki sees himeno's death flash before his eyes again in hell when he looks upon denji and power. having felt that pain of losing someone he loved, there's no way he could do it again. he finally understands why the thought was so excruciating for himeno and why she died for him. it's why he gets cold feet. fuck dude it fucks me up..........
aki entered public safety thinking that he would only really be sacrificing himself, that it didn't matter what happened to HIM and in some meta ways yeah he is the everyman he would be readily disposable in another narrative. what really distinguished aki from the other devil hunters we see die besides his own self-annihilating cause? and y'know for a while that is enough, that ironic innocence that even though he's seen the deaths of his family he really doesn't understand what this kind of quest entails. it never could've just been him in the line of fire, he was never meant to be a person who is alone. of course he would come to care about others so much that he could not bear to see them die because it's simply inevitable it is simply human. his self-annihilation could never be just his own... and it takes himeno's death - "first death" - to realize that. and it takes literally going to hell and back to realize. this quest is not worth the lives, the connections he risks. and by then it's simply too late.
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heavensmortuary · 9 months
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Seeing the body horror post gave me a question, if you’ve seen the movie Annihilation or read the books that it’s based on, did you enjoy that kind of body horror or not? It’s a wonderful movie, I think, but definitely not for…well, a lot of people. 😅
And if you did or did not like it, why?
oh man Annihilation is my favorite horror book!!
I wasn't a huge fan of the movie because it's..not really anything like the book? BUT MAN the monsters are so good; the bear scene is so terrifying. the effects of the fungus man is crazy too. it's definitely really really cool; I should give it a rewatch :]
the book has very similar body horror except a bit more abstract. I could go on and on and on about the horror of biology it poses. It's crazy like. The concept of cosmic horror or cosmic scale from the perspective of The Alien is the scientist and you are a microbe in an infinite sea of microbes it's observing and everything about you can be changed until nothing of your original form remains.
I really love a piece of dialogue shared when she talks about how alien normal things become when you look at them for too long, talking about staring at a starfish until it becomes something alien. that's some CRAZY uncanny horror. "There is no one with me. I am all by myself. The trees are not trees the birds are not birds and I am not me but just something that has been walking for a very long time…" Just. MAN. it's fantastic
but yea for sure, it's really awesome and definitely scary
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buildarocketboys · 3 months
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Frankenstein Chapters 9-14 @tumbleclub
Literally just gonna post the quotes I've highlighted this week without commentary (unless I really wanna put commentary) because I'm tired and there were a lot of chapters this week! So putting it under a cut:
Chapter 9:
When I thought of him I gnashed my teeth, my eyes became inflamed, and I ardently wished to extinguish that life which I had so thoughtlessly bestowed.
Before, I looked upon the accounts of vice and injustice that I read in books or heard from others as tales of ancient days or imaginary evils; at least they were remote and more familiar to reason than to the imagination; but now misery has come home, and men appear to me as monsters thirsting for each other’s blood.
I could not consent to the death of any human being, but certainly I should have thought such a creature unfit to remain in the society of men.
Chapter 10:
Why does man boast of sensibilities superior to those apparent in the brute; it only renders them more necessary beings. If our impulses were confined to hunger, thirst, and desire, we might be nearly free
The monster very much echoes a similar sentiment later, when he realises how wretched his situation is.
“I expected this reception,” said the dæmon. “All men hate the wretched; how, then, must I be hated, who am miserable beyond all living things! Yet you, my creator, detest and spurn me, thy creature, to whom thou art bound by ties only dissoluble by the annihilation of one of us.
Remember that I am thy creature; I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. Everywhere I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded. I was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. Make me happy, and I shall again be virtuous.”
I do think the consistent Adam/original sin of knowledge are interesting...
Listen to my tale; when you have heard that, abandon or commiserate me, as you shall judge that I deserve. But hear me.
You accuse me of murder, and yet you would, with a satisfied conscience, destroy your own creature. Oh, praise the eternal justice of man!
I love how sassy the creature is here. Go off!
My heart was full, and I did not answer him, but as I proceeded, I weighed the various arguments that he had used and determined at least to listen to his tale. I was partly urged by curiosity, and compassion confirmed my resolution. I had hitherto supposed him to be the murderer of my brother, and I eagerly sought a confirmation or denial of this opinion. For the first time, also, I felt what the duties of a creator towards his creature were
Chapter 11:
I was a poor, helpless, miserable wretch; I knew, and could distinguish, nothing; but feeling pain invade me on all sides, I sat down and wept.
:(
I was delighted when I first discovered that a pleasant sound, which often saluted my ears, proceeded from the throats of the little winged animals who had often intercepted the light from my eyes.
Sometimes I wished to express my sensations in my own mode, but the uncouth and inarticulate sounds which broke from me frightened me into silence again.
How strange, I thought, that the same cause should produce such opposite effects!
When I found this, I resolved to quit the place that I had hitherto inhabited, to seek for one where the few wants I experienced would be more easily satisfied.
The whole village was roused; some fled, some attacked me, until, grievously bruised by stones and many other kinds of missile weapons
This kind of reminded me of everyone attacking and driving out Jean Valjean in Les Miserables.
He raised her and smiled with such kindness and affection that I felt sensations of a peculiar and overpowering nature; they were a mixture of pain and pleasure, such as I had never before experienced, either from hunger or cold, warmth or food; and I withdrew from the window, unable to bear these emotions.
Everything about the creature's story is so fucking heartbreaking
Chapter 12:
If such lovely creatures were miserable, it was less strange that I, an imperfect and solitary being, should be wretched. Yet why were these gentle beings unhappy?
Their nourishment consisted entirely of the vegetables of their garden and the milk of one cow, which gave very little during the winter, when its masters could scarcely procure food to support it.
Subsistence farming sucks :/
Chapter 13:
I heard of the slothful Asiatics, of the stupendous genius and mental activity of the Grecians, of the wars and wonderful virtue of the early Romans—of their subsequent degenerating—of the decline of that mighty empire, of chivalry, Christianity, and kings. I heard of the discovery of the American hemisphere and wept with Safie over the hapless fate of its original inhabitants.
Interesting examples of orientalism/racism against Asians vs at least sadness over colonialism of the native Americans
“Of what a strange nature is knowledge! It clings to the mind when it has once seized on it like a lichen on the rock. I wished sometimes to shake off all thought and feeling, but I learned that there was but one means to overcome the sensation of pain, and that was death—a state which I feared yet did not understand.
I had never yet seen a being resembling me or who claimed any intercourse with me. What was I?
Chapter 14:
He was tried and condemned to death. The injustice of his sentence was very flagrant; all Paris was indignant; and it was judged that his religion and wealth rather than the crime alleged against him had been the cause of his condemnation.
Parallel to Justine's condemnation?
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