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thepixelelf · 1 month

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hiii thank you for the advice ursa!! as for the situation I’ll tell you about it.

It’s about my older sister more than anyone else in my family. When I say like I have to work my schedule even life around hers I truly do mean it. I basically didn’t get to choose the program of study i originally wanted bc it was an hour away and since she was going to start her externship before I did, she thought it was inconvenient for me to do that bc she needs someone to drop off & pick up my nephew from school. This part I get a bit yk but it’s just unfair to me bc now I’m being forced to study something I didn’t want in the first place. I talked to her about this before but she always says the same thing “it’s too far I think you should stick to the program that’s 20 minutes away instead.” This is a huge reason why I don’t want to/ I’m scared to speak up for myself bc I feel like my feelings don’t matter. And not to mention I’ve been putting off all of the perquisite courses that I have to take in person because of her as well. I could’ve been done with my prereqs a year ago if it wasn’t for her. She thinks my school is far from our house (it’s only like 20 minutes away) but it’s inconvenient for her bc she wants me to take care of my nephew all the time. I’m not even kidding sometimes she’ll go out w my brother in law for hours and she’ll leave my nephew w me. In the rare cases she does take him w her as soon as they get home she’ll make a comment somewhere along the line of “it’s your turn to watch him” like wdym he’s not my child?!!

For the part of my homework, I don’t put off family time just for homework if anything it’s the complete opposite. I usually always put off doing homework because someone needs something and in most cases it’s my older sister. This past May I was really busy doing homework bc it was the last few weeks of school. she would make snarky comments like “you’re doing homework AGAIN” or “oh here we go again, we’re just gonna see you on your laptop all day.” Mind you these were assignments I couldn’t put off. I had 2 papers worth like half of my grade and on top of that a presentation for another class and I also had to study for final exams. Her problem is that she depends on me too much to help her with my nephew. I love him more than anything but sometimes I can’t even enjoy my days or even vacation bc she constantly wants me to watch him. I swear to you there’s times when I take care of him more than she does in a week.

I could keep going on and on about this but they’re all similar situations just in different ways. I guess what I’m saying is that I of course want to have a conversation with her about it but I know she’s going to find a way to turn this on me. If not she’s going to make me feel guilty about even bringing anything up (I know this from past experiences). It’s a very difficult situation and I wish I would stop worrying so much about her feelings instead of mine.

I’m so exhausted and mentally drained but I truly do appreciate you helping me out with this ursa, it means so much. 🩷

I am saying this completely genuinely: switch to your first choice program of study. It is doing no one any good if you are studying something you don't like when you could have an academic career you DO want. If it's possible to make the switch (and I mean possible as in your school lets you, not whether anyone else thinks you shouldn't) I say do it. Better to make the change now rather than regret an entire degree later. To be able to get post secondary education is already an incredible opportunity, and you should be allowed to use it to study what YOU want to study. It's YOUR future, not anyone else's.

If you have trouble justifying/explaining to your family/sister, I'd suggest talking about it like this:

(Using my program/career as a placeholder)

“If I'm going to be a [professional stage manager], then I need to go to this university/college/school and take this [technical theatre stage management] program that they offer.” And back it up with, “This is the field of study I want to work in, and I won't have the career I want if I'm doing the program that is ‘more convenient’.”

Obviously that alone isn't enough but I can assure you that you can and should take the study program you want to take. Look into what it would be like to transit daily to that 1 hour away school, and at the same time look into dormitories/roommates/on and off campus living for that school. 1 hour away is actually pretty significant, BUT worth it in the long run if you do the work to find what is viable for you.

Please know that I am open to continuing talking with you about this bc I understand that it's not always easy to stand up for yourself (especially in cases of family) and this post might not be enough to fully convince you. I just really think you deserve better and I want you to live the life you wanna live!!

Also— your 4 year old nephew is not your responsibility! As a 22 year old aunt, being available to pick up your nephew from school if one of his parents were suddenly unavailable would be a normal level of favour to do for your sister. Picking him up from school every single day is not. Yes, a 4yo can't be left alone, but either your 28yo sister or 30yo brother in law need to be able to take care of that!!!!! THEY chose to be parents so THEY need to take responsibility. Either they have to figure out a way to pick him up, or they can look into a daycare service or babysitters. You are not a free babysitter!

I understand that living with them gives way to a different dynamic, but think about it this way: if you had 0% input on whether or not this child was going to exist, then you take 0% responsibility for their care. Of course you can offer to help watch this child from time to time, but it never was and never should have been your duty!! Like it's honestly ridiculous for these two grown adults to expect you to watch their child that often! You are still so young!!!!!!!! 22 is legally an adult yes but like!! Barely!!! You're still in school and have so much ahead of you and ugh!!! This made me heated!!

I think a huge part of this is that you need to start believing that your feelings matter, anon, because they really do. Tell anyone else about your situation and they'll tell you the same thing I am. You matter!

#PLEASE dm me or send more asks if you wnat help talking to your sister bc im rooting for you now.#you can talk to me any time #asks #anonymous

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uncriticalbunny · 3 months

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i’m sorry, this ask is obnoxiously long, but your pinned post about sydney’s relationships and particularly the part about lesbian syd truthers being ADAMANT that she’s a lesbian as opposed to bisexual because of the combo of jealousy (re: the fuckability of JAW) and denial (a girlboss like her surely couldn’t date a (WHITE) MAN?!?!?!?? what about #representation?!?!!) is sooooooo fucking real.

of course, i think to a degree it also reflects the general idea of bisexual women many people have regarding our relations to/with men - as though syd not being ‘gold star’ (yuck) sullies her in some way? or as though the usual idea of a ‘bisexual woman’ these people have in mind somehow couldn’t mesh with syd? - but still. it made me realise i’ve genuinely never seen an in-depth reason as to why syd is a lesbian that doesn’t hinge entirely on carmy (or even occasionally marcus, or ritchie, or whoever) as a character and the headcanoners reluctance to allow sydney to be involved with him for whatever reason, but i’ve never been able to put name to it til i read your post. and tbh, as a bisexual woman, i don’t even really care about syd being lesbian, bi, straight - it literally does not matter to me as long as she’s fulfilled. but i DO feel strongly about her ending up ‘alone’, regardless of whether they try to go the ‘but her job and her friendships fulfil her sooo much’ route. again, i didn’t realise why. it’s a very good post, thank you for explaining it so succinctly. it’s given me a lot to think about, especially post-VF article and right before S3 drops. i really feel like my third eye has been opened, especially since i have always wondered if i’m just putting too much stock into romance and ignoring that people can have fulfilling lives without it etc etc etc (mostly as a result of anti-ship sydney enjoyers). really, thank you, and sorry this is so long and muddled!

thank u anon, not muddled at all! you've hit the nail on the head. honestly people cannot be normal about bi women, whether in queer spaces or otherwise. it's interesting that people won't even consider a bi syd even though she could still have a girlfriend. that tiny possibility of her getting with carmy is too much for them to handle i suppose. above all, it sullies her like you said. i rarely see any bi headcanons when it comes to black female characters. i've mentioned before idgaf about people justifying their headcanons but again, like you said, the hc of her being a lesbian [mostly from white women and men] usually only comes up in relation to carmy. like there has to be absolutely zero chance for her getting with carmy. on one side, there are earnest people who genuinely want to see her as a lesbian because of representation or whatever [with no real thought of the #optics or how that execution would be like]. and on the other side, we have the racists and people who want her to be a lesbian simply bc they don't want her with carmy, whether bc they don't think she meets their standards for who gets to be involved with him romantically or bc they think she's better than him. i think these things are worth interrogating.

for me it's also about not wanting syd to end up alone. i don't trust the writers to make it satisfying for all the reasons i mentioned in that long ass post if they were to make her a lesbian and/or ace [or bi]. the ace headcanons are even more unserious to me. so many people would looooove to see her focus solely on the restaurant bc they think that's all she deserves or that the show has no room for romance, despite everything that happened in season 2 lmao. i don't think it's silly to want to see the romance at all. the anti-romance people are the silly ones.

#sydney adamu #asks

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

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Anakin and the Jedi Babies: A Child's Ink

Context: Anakin and the Jedi Babies, chrono

WARNINGS: underage characters get tattoos/piercings

Word Count: 5680 Rating: T Ships: primarily Gen (Disaster Lineage + Shmi), offscreen JangoShmi, past Obitine, past Anidala ----

Ylliben Skywalker is known as a preternaturally calm and quiet child, serious and pensive.

He jokes. He roughhouses. He is as responsive to tickle attacks and shoulder rides and warm hugs as any other child.

But he is Jetii'Manda, not just Mando'ade, and that fact is impossible to forget.

This is a child that can read before he can speak, a child who can talk at length about 'grassroots antiestablishment propaganda and its influence on rural sociological development' before he can say the words without a lisp. This is a child who looks a man in the eye and tells him to check over his blaster one last time, or it will explode in his hand only minutes into the next engagement. This is a child who is not only willing, but capable of discussing the plausible ramifications of Duke Adonai Kryze's latest decrees with Jaster Mereel himself, while still in possession of all his baby teeth.

(His father is not worried by this. Upset, sometimes, pained and tired, but not worried.)

(His sister only laughs.)

It is, as a result, not as surprising as it could be, when a six-year-old wanders his way into Na-Tsuyon's parlor and asks her what the risks of getting a tattoo at his age are.

"I'm not having that conversation with you unless your parent is here," she says. A few of the other artists crane their heads in her direction, but she waves them off.

"I'm not trying to get it right this moment," Ben protests. "I'm just gathering information. He said that was fine."

"Still need your parent here here," she tells him.

He leaves for about ten minutes, and then comes back with a tall, gangling figure in tow.

"I hear this isn't the place for unaccompanied minors," Knight Skywalker jokes.

(She has heard him called a General. She does not know which war he fought. Nobody does.)

(They no longer ask.)

"Well, he is young," she says, brushing her tentacles back over a shoulder. "I don't let anyone under human-fourteen get tattooed without a parent on hand, and giving preliminary information to anyone under twelve is... generally not worth it, shall we say."

Skywalker smiles, oddly amused in the way he always is when someone points out his children need supervision. "Glad to hear it. Are you the Na-Tsuyon whose name is on the door?"

"I am," she says. "And you're Knight Skywalker."

He's pleased at that. She can feel it in the chemical receptors of her head tails, and wonders. "Yep. So, do we jump right into the discussion or do you need me to sign something, or..."

"No, it's enough that you're here," she assures him. "Now, the main reasons we discourage tattoos for younger sentients is the distortion factor. While the level of pain is much lower than it would have been several millennia ago, and we have the technology to remove ink from below the skin, a tattoo before your body stops growing will distort as you grow and your skin stretches. You would need to come in yearly for touch-ups, to remove the sections that have moved out of place, and fill in where the ink is no longer settled."

"That makes sense," Ylliben says. He looks up at his father, and then back to her. "You'd be able to tell me if any of my choices would be... bad for a Mandalorian, yes?"

"I would," she confirms. She glances up at Knight Skywalker. "I don't suppose you have any history of getting tattoos?"

"No," he says. "I'm from Tatooine, so..."

Different connotations to the very act of it, for him.

She ducks her head in a nod. "I understand. Generally it's easier if the parent has experience in the process, but it's far from mandatory. You're willing to work with the distortion maintenance?"

"Yes'm," Ylliben says, and his father shrugs and gestures, as if the word of a six-year-old is thus law.

"I'll walk you through the details of the process, including the care, relevant allergies, and so on. I don't suppose you have anything in mind already?" she asks.

"I do," he says. He doesn't tell her what it is, yet.

Anakin Skywalker stays there the entire time, and they make an appointment for later in the week.

----

"My buir isn't my only father," Ylliben says quietly, when it comes time to get details on what he's getting tattooed. "I had another father before him. A Jedi. He died, to protect me, and a lot of other people. So, um..."

He shoves a picture to her, the symbol of the Jedi, plain and simple. She looks at him.

"In red," he says, shifting on his feet, looking up at his father and then back down at the page. "For, um, to honor a parent."

"Your first father was a Jedi?" she asks, gentle as she can.

"Mm-hm," Ylliben says. "He died, um... he saved buir from slavery, too, a long time ago. Both my dads were Jedi, and I'm going to be one, too, and so is Sokanth. It's--it's about where I come from, and--"

"You don't have to justify it if you don't want to," Na-Tsuyon tells him, reaching out to place one hand on his. It's very warm and dry, in her opinion, but she finds that most humans are. Mandalorians are some 80% human, or near human.

Nautolan Mandalorians aren't unheard of, but she's a rare one.

Ben sucks in a breath, and says, "I want it up here, on my right shoulder, like a pauldron."

Na-Tsuyon nods, and looks up to Skywalker. "You'll have to sign some papers to approve it, Master Jedi. You approve of the design?"

Skywalker hesitates, and then goes to one knee in front of his son, and speaks so quietly she can only hear "--remind you of the generator complex?"

Whatever Ben's answer is, it's too quiet for her to catch. It satisfies Skywalker, though, and he stands. "Alright, let's see this paperwork."

----

When Ylliben comes in again, a year later to get his slightly-twisting tattoo fixed, it's with Miss Shmi in tow. Na-Tsuyon greets the middle Skywalker, for all that she's still not entirely sure how to address the girl. "I heard you've been attending the university at Sundari. Some kind of engineering?"

"Mechanical, yes," Shmi says, oddly soft. "I'm going to spend another year to specialize in vehicular engineering. I'd like to design starships, since I already know how to fix them."

"A worthy goal," Na-Tsuyon says, as she leads them over to one of the stations and starts sanitizing Ylliben's inked shoulder. She doesn't entirely see why a university education is needed for something that, in her opinion, an apprenticeship could more thoroughly cover. It certainly worked well enough Na-Tsuyon herself. "You're on vacation, then?"

"I am," Shmi confirms. "It's... unfortunate that Anakin couldn't be here a the same time, but we'll see each other in a few days."

Ylliben fidgets for a bit as his jedi symbol is fixed, and then finally asks, "Ori'vod can approve new tattoos, right?"

"Sokanth, no. Shmi..." Na-Tsuyon looks up at her. "I have no idea if you're listed as his legal guardian anywhere, and I'd need proof of that."

"Secondary to Anakin," Shmi confirms. "Ben would like this to be a surprise for Ani."

Ben pulls out a sheet, with a careful design on it, and presses it into Na-Tsuyon's lap when she lifts the tattoo gun and he's not at risk of ruining his own ink. It's simpler than the Jedi symbol, though it's two colors instead of one.

"It's the Open Circle Fleet," Ben says, shy in a way she's given to understand he usually isn't. She thinks his shyer moments may be connected to admitting to emotion, something that he's tying quite closely to his choice of Tattoos. "I thought, um, since I'm already--already honoring one buir, then, er..."

"The Open Circle Fleet was under the command of my brother's Jedi Master," Shmi explains, one hand on Ben's. "And I am given to understand that the symbol was designed as a subtle nod, of sorts, to the two of them as a team. Ben's looking to honor Anakin as he has his first father."

Ben looks down at his lap, and doesn't meet Na-Tsuyon's eyes.

"Bring me proof of guardianship," she tells them. "And I'll make sure you get it finished early enough that the bacta comes off before Knight Skywalker makes it home."

She holds true to her word, and talks her way into being there to see the reunion and reveal.

The emotions that cross Skywalker's face are complicated and unexpected in ways that she can't identify.

Then it's all too simple, because he starts crying on little Ylliben in the middle of the hangar.

----

It doesn't take a full year for Ylliben to come in for another set. It's only five months, maybe six. He has a sketch again, a geometric design of something she doesn't recognize, but still pings as familiar for some reason.

"It needs to be the right shade of blue," he tells her, serious as anything. Knight Skwyalker is right next to him, smiling all soft and indulgent, and maybe a little sad. "It's for Soka."

Oh. This is based on her facial markings, then. Or... what they will be, maybe. This doesn't look quite like what she's seen on the girl, but everyone knows little Ben is more touched by visions than his father and sister.

Na-Tsuyon thinks she knows where this is going. "The same blue as her montrals and lekku?"

Ben shakes his head. "No, 501st blue."

Or not.

"It's close, but a little darker and more saturated," Skywalker offers, and shrugs when she looks his way. "It's a long story, but the 501st was the legion I led before I arrived at Mandalore. It had a specific shade of blue assigned for armor paint, so legions could easily identify each other in the field."

That's... odd. She doesn't ask for more detail, though. It's not her business. "Where do you want this one?"

Ben shows her his left forearm and frames a section about two-thirds the length of it, along the outer side. Like a vambrace.

She has a feeling all these symbols will be on his armor, once he's old enough for it.

"Let's go through my inks and see which one will work best," she says, and does not comment on the rest.

----

When Ylliben comes in again, a few months before his next touch-up appointment, he doesn't have an image on hand. His father is trailing him again, and Na-Tsuyon has a guess.

"Time for Shmi?" she asks.

Ben ducks his head, flushing and not meeting Na-Tsuyon's eyes. "Yes'm."

"I thought as much," she says, and smiles at Skywalker. "General."

"Don't start."

"There have been oh so many rumors flying since the last Jedi run-in, you know."

"I don't care," he grouses, dropping into a seat. "Hells, a man takes emergency command for one battle, and it's all anyone can talk about."

"You ended a civil war, sir."

Ben giggles into his hands as Skywalker groans and slaps a hand over his eyes.

"No respect," the man complains. "Ben, be nice to me, I'm your dad."

"Nuh-uh," Ben says. "I know all the most embarrassing secrets."

"A cruel child," Skywalker accuses. "Ruthless."

"You're the one raising me," Ben says, swinging his legs back and forth. He's got plastoid training vambraces, now, and greaves that clink against the legs of the chair.

"Somehow, yes." Skywalker sighs, with great drama and all such things. He drags himself up to sitting. "Anyway. Moving on."

"Do you have something in mind already?" Na-Tsuyon asks.

"Binary suns," Ben says. "Just two overlapping circles, coin-sized, one bigger than the other, in sunset colors. In a gradient, with a sort of... flare to it? Halo? The... oh! The stellar corona. Buir knows the colors better."

"I want to see what you have to work with before I sketch out the design," Skywalker says. "But yeah, sort of pink and yellow and peachy."

"I can do almost any color," Na-Tsuyon promises. "Especially on fair human skin like Ylliben's. I won't have a problem getting those to show up the way I would on myself."

Na-Tsuyon is a color most would call 'aquamarine.' She's a light shade between blue and green, and much as she likes her skin, it's an absolute pain to make red and orange show up.

She can do it.

It's just annoying.

Ben asks for this one to be on the inside of the left forearm, high and opposite to the widest point of the mark for Sokanth.

----

"Can I see your fonts?"

Ben's alone, for the moment, but Na-Tsuyon knows that when he makes his decision, his father or Shmi will approve it without question. It's no harm to let him browse.

"Basic, Mando'a, or Huttese alphabet?" she asks. "Or something more esoteric?"

"Mando'a, please."

He's eight years old, now. He's still far younger than most of her clients, but she's long gotten used to him. Even when he's acting like a child, there's something to it that doesn't quite sit right. 'Born middle-aged,' a few of the other civilians on base had joked.

She wasn't sure if she thought it was just a joke, these days.

Na-Tsuyon passes her fonts book to the boy, and settles back in her chair for a long afternoon of running numbers. He, meanwhile, goes to sit in the lobby, legs still not long enough to reach the floor, paging through with unwavering, unsettling gravitas.

Half an hour, and then Ben returns.

He points to a font. "This one."

"What's it going to say?"

"Vode An," he tells her, as serious as can be. "In black, over my heart. It's important."

"It's a fairly common phrase," she notes idly. "Should be quick."

She doesn't expect much of a response, and certainly not the one she gets.

"It was different for them," Ben mutters, not looking at her. She sees him twisting the toes of one shoe into the floor. "It was... it was different. I can't talk about it. They were brothers, actually brothers, and they had--they had nothing, they were basically slaves, but--"

"You don't have to talk about it," Na-Tsuyon assures him, a hand on his. "You don't have to explain it to me. If it means something to you, that's all that matters. I just need you to be sure."

"And buir to sign the paperwork," Ben quips, smiling at her. She notices that several teeth are missing. It's cute. "You need that too."

"That too," she agrees.

When Skywalker shows up, he hears what it is that Ben would like, and makes a few suggestions for a border--a gear that sounded too much like the Republic's symbol for a Mando'a phrase, a building on stilts from a city she's never heard of on a planet that rings no bells, a human genetic strand for reasons she can't imagine--most of which are soundly ignored, until Skywalker sketched out a stylized ship of... some sort.

"Venator," Skywalker says, and taps the image. "Nobody will know it except us, but it'll mean something to you, for them."

Ben looks at it for a long moment, and then takes the scrap of flimsi with Mando'a on it and lays it overtop the center of the sketch.

He stares at it for a few long moments, and then nods sharply and pushes it to Na-Tsuyon. "This, please."

He's such a polite child.

It makes it easier to ignore the more confusing parts of his presence in her parlor.

----

"Hi!"

Sokanth Skywalker is in her shop.

That's new.

"Hello," Na-Tsuyon says. "I didn't know you were thinking of getting ink."

"I'm not," she says, hopping up on a stool across the counter. She holds out a hand, and Na-Tsuyon clasps it with bemusement. "But you guys do piercings too, right?"

"We do," she confirms. "You're... ten?"

"Yep!" Sokanth chirps, kicking her legs back and forth. "Is that old enough to get these without permission, or should I ask my dad to come by?"

"At least twelve for piercings without in-person, signed approval from a parent or guardian," Na-Tsuyon says. "Though if you're anything like your brother, I don't imagine that'll be a problem for you."

Sokanth grins at her, bright and a little wild. "Nose, bottom lip, eyebrow. I don't know the actual terms, but I know what I want. Which do you suggest getting first?"

"I'd say nostril," Na-Tsuyon tells her. Most species even vaguely humanoid kick off with the ears, but that's not exactly an option for a togruta. "Let me get a chart and you can figure out what type of piercing you want, and what kind of hoop or stud. I don't actually do the piercings myself, though. Comm the General if you want this done today, though."

"Thank you~!"

----

Nostril, labret, and a horizontal brow, the piercer notes down at the end of the latest Skywalker visit. Na-Tsuyon wonders if the brow piercing will look strange with Soka's markings, and then doesn't think on it further.

----

Ylliben, almost nine, is silent as he gets the touch-up.

His father isn't here. Neither is Shmi. It's pre-approved, signed permission and all, but it's still odd that neither of Ben's adults is here.

Sokanth is, but she's almost as quiet as Ben is.

Na-Tsuyon has heard the rumors, but she's not going to say anything. She's not. It's not her business.

"Ben," Soka speaks up, towards the end of the appointment. "Ask her the thing."

Ben shakes his head. "No way."

"She knows more about tattoos and how important they are than anyone!" Soka urges. "Ask her!"

"Do you want to wait for your father?" Na-Tsuyon suggests.

"No!" both immediately yelp.

She pauses, glad the needle hadn't been to skin, and levels a look at Ben. He flushes and settles down, mumbling an apology for jerking as he had. She goes back to fixing the stretch of the binary suns tattoo.

Soka shifts in her seat, watching them intently.

"Shmi's upset with buir," Ben suddenly says. He doesn't meet Na-Tsuyon's eyes. "I'm... I don't know if you heard what's going on."

"I do my best to avoid rumors," she says, keeping her voice as neutral as she can. "I did hear that the Mand'alor is about to have a grandchild, and something about an upcoming wedding. That much has been announced officially."

"Dad freaked out," Soka says, legs kicking back and forth. "He's happy for her, and he's fine with Jango being the other parent, but it kicked off a... philosophical crisis? Ben, what do you think?"

"Metaphysical, maybe," Ben mumbles. "Definitely existential."

"And he told Shmi some stuff and now she's hurt that he didn't tell her before and it's all a mess," Soka finishes. "So, uh, we don't... want either of them involved. Until. Um. Until that's settled."

Na-Tsuyon bites back any deeper questions she might have. "Alright. I won't pry. What did you want to know from me?"

"I had a plan for what I was going to get next," Ben says, staring at the fold of fabric over his sister's knees in lieu of something more pertinent. "A peace lily, on the inside of my wrist, for..."

"You don't have to tell me," she reminds him.

Ben bites his lip, and closes his eyes, and breathes in deep. Neither of the girls comment.

"She was important," Ben finally says. "In the big memories. But she doesn't... she's not... she isn't here. And Jango is. And he's marrying Shmi, and they're having a baby, so I should put a mark down for him first, right?"

"He's gonna be Mand'alor, too," Soka adds.

"He is," Na-Tsuyon says, as neutral as she can.

"He's joining the family," Ben says, his gaze fixed on the floor in front of him. "And there's going to be a baby, and that's. That's important."

"There's no order that you have to get things in," Na-Tsuyon assures him, squeezing his shoulder in a light gesture of support. "You've prioritized family so far, so I think it would make sense to get a mark for the coming cousin, at least. Unless... is the lily for your birth mother?"

Ben's face twists, uncomfortable for some reason she can't begin to guess at.

"No," Ben says.

"Skyguy's Jedi Master did almost marry her when they were younger," Soka explains. She glances at Na-Tsuyon and then away and at the wall. "They had a whole dramatic 'forbidden romance' thing going on, 'cause Jedi aren't supposed to get married. She died before Ben came into the picture, though."

It's a neat enough explanation.

It feels fake, but much of what the Skywalkers say about their pasts does.

She's sure it's true in some way. In some perspective. From... from a certain point of view, maybe.

"Alright, then," Na-Tsuyon dismisses. "All things aside, I would suggest adjusting your order of tattoo acquisition, but there's no particular requirement by Mandalorian standards. Your choices are rarely anything that intersects with set traditions, nor do you have a historic clan or house that comes with mandates of the sort. It seems that you're leaning towards prioritizing something for the new additions to your family, though; you've made it clear that these things are important to you, and I think you should pursue it if you're comfortable with it."

Ben nods, eyes somewhere far off.

"It'll make him flustered," Soka pushes, kicking lightly at her brother's ankle. "Jan-Jan's still worried you don't like him anymore."

"He is not," Ben huffs. "He's just scared of buir."

"Nah, your opinion matters too," Soka argues. "And you've been avoiding everyone 'cuz Skyguy freaked out and Shmi's upset, so Jango's worried you're mad at him about the baby happening. If you get a tattoo about him, he might actually cry."

"Is that why you want me to take that route?"

"Not the only one," Soka says, utterly guileless. She blinks at him, bright and innocent. "But I definitely do want to see the future Mand'alor crying because you made it obvious he's family now. It'll be funny."

Ben sighs, very clearly being dramatic about it. "Soka, I'm not going to pick a tattoo based on what you think will be funny."

"Imagine his face, though."

Na-Tsuyon doesn't comment at the expressions Ben makes as he very clearly does exactly that.

"Well, kriff," Ben sighs, and Soka giggles at the swear. "I'll have to get a tattoo for Jango, then."

----

Ben is already nine by the time he comes in with his father to actually get the tattoo for Jango's addition to the family. The choice he makes isn't particularly imaginative, but it'll suit well enough. A mythosaur skull, the symbol of the Haat Mando'ade, in a grey the same shade as beskar.

There actually are traditions to this one, specific adjustments to the framing and stylization meant to indicate how one fits into the faction, but also how one is associated with the Mand'alor. Ben is family, and close family, but not related by blood, nor adopted directly by the Mand'alor, rather a relative through the riduur be alor.

Na-Tsuyon explains each element and adjustment in detail, lets them process and agree, until she's taking a needle to Ben's skin once more.

"Will you be getting one for the coming child as well?" Na-Tsuyon asks while shading in a curve of bone.

"Not yet," Ben tells her, quiet and oddly contemplating. "I need to meet them, first. Figure out who they are."

"Sensible," she agrees. There's the usual oddity in his phrasing, and she ignores it as ever. "Did you tell Fett that you were getting this?"

"No, it's intended as a surprise," Ben says, watching her work.

She can almost feel the coming question.

It does not come from the human she expects.

"Do you know any Mando tattoo artists in Little Keldabe?" the General asks, voice low.

She finishes the line she's on, lifts the needle away from skin, and turns to him. "You're leaving for Coruscant?"

"Not yet," Skywalker says. He meets her eyes evenly. "But... soon. The time's coming. A year, maybe two. The Force will let us know when the time is right."

"Uh-huh," Na-Tsuyon acknowledges this. She does not comment further. The Force is not her wheelhouse. If they think it wants them back on Coruscant, with the Temple, then that's what they believe.

"These are Mando work," Skywalker continues, almost painfully earnest, "and I'd like to ensure whoever maintains them until Ben stops growing knows the right way to handle Mando art."

It's really not that different from a standard tattoo artist, but she's a little charmed anyway. Enchanted, almost. The man really does care.

"I can get you some names and addresses next time you stop by," she promises him. "It's been a few years since I checked in on their work, and I'll need to look them over before I make any recommendations."

He smiles at her, relieved in a manner she finds appallingly open for a Jedi like himself.

Ben mimics his father.

----

She gets to attend the wedding, months later.

The food is very, very good.

(Ben waits until the reception to show off his new tattoo, and the future Mand'alor does, in fact, cry.)

(So does Shmi.)

(So does their eight-week-old daughter, but that's probably unrelated to the tattoo.)

----

"Do you think getting a belly button ring would be good?"

Na-Tsuyon doesn't lift her head from her paperwork when Sokanth poses the question to the piercer. She's in for the horizontal brow bar, this time, and the labret is going to be somewhere a few months down the line.

"That's really up to you," the piercer says. His name is Hujnak, and he's a Devaronian that's been working here since Na-Tsuyon opened up the place. She loves him dearly, but he stole the last piece of cake and for that he will have no help with difficult customers for the next fortnight.

Or until she gets bored.

"I'm leaning towards 'no,' but I'm not sure," Soka muses. "I like the idea of it, but I feel like it might get snagged on things more easily. Plus, it's going to be a point of higher damage and pressure if I get a gut punch. It's one of the parts of my body I'm never really going to armor up, you know?"

They do know. There have been screaming matches about all the Jedi's refusal to wear enough armor on many occasions. The Jedi prioritize their agility to such a degree that armorweave is more reasonable than actual armor, in their opinion. This is an opinion that Fett and Mereel both take issue with.

At great volume.

(Shmi has vambraces, a gorget, and greaves, Na-Tsuyon knows. Some of it was exchanged at the wedding. Shmi doesn't wear much armor, certainly less than even the children. Shmi, crucially, isn't a warrior or otherwise planning to see battle.)

"Then I would say it may be best to hold off."

"Phooey," Soka says, though she doesn't seem particularly upset. "Ben's gonna be cooler than me forever, then."

"You think tattoos are cooler than piercings?" Hujnak challenges. "I'm offended."

"He can just get more," Soka protests. "Without it looking weird or getting dangerous, I mean."

Hujnak hums, noncommittal. "And you're worried about being cooler than the younger brother you have told me is, and I quote, the biggest nerd ever?"

"Well, yeah," Sokanth scoffs. "He's gonna start acting older than me as soon as he thinks he can get away with it. I gotta have something to hold over his head, you know?"

"Seeing as you are the older sibling..."

"Ehhhh..."

Nope.

Not paying attention.

----

"These are House Kryze colors."

Ylliben's breath hitches.

He is ten. He doesn't seem ready to provide answers. She turns to the father instead.

"Will that be a problem?" the general asks, calm and even.

"Yes," she says, and Ben slumps. She continues, because this is her job, and for a reason. "Unless you have a ready justification for when House Kryze asks, yes, it will be a problem. If it were a landscape or an animal, it wouldn't matter, but the pairing of the colors and the peace lily is an explicit statement of loyalty to Adonai and his heir, Satine. Unless you've suddenly decided to adjust your political stance to total pacifism instead of your Jedi approach, or have another reason to take on House Kryze colors, I'd warn against it at all, and would refuse to perform the work myself."

Ylliben's eyes are fixed somewhere behind her, and shining wetly.

"Okay," the general says. "Ben, do you have any other pallettes in mind?

"These were her colors," Ben whispers, and then he swallows thickly. "I just..."

"Simplify," Skywalker suggests. He fiddles with a necklace half-hidden in his Jedi layers; the japor one is visible, but a dull gold glint is all Na-Tsuyon can see of the other before it's tucked away again. "She'd understand, yeah? There's political ramifications. Dangerous ones, especially to you."

Interesting thing to say about a woman who, by Soka's earlier statements, died well before Ben was born.

They could at least try to stop dropping hints about their oddities. She doesn't want to know more.

"Lilac," Ben finally decides. "And... pale silver. With a filigree pattern in the shading?"

"I can do that," Na-Tsuyon promises.

She does not ask further.

----

"We're moving to Coruscant in a month."

Na-Tsuyon's head snaps up, head tails jolting almost painfully with the movement.

Sokanth is getting her labret, finally. She's gossiping as Hujnak prepares the tools, as usual, and Na-Tsuyon tries to ignore it when they Skywalkers do that, she does, but...

"You're leaving," she repeats, feeling oddly blank.

"Um... yeah?" Soka answers. She scratches at one stubby montral. "We've talked about it before. I thought you knew."

"I didn't realize it was so soon," Na-Tsuyon defends. She's more upset than she should be. "I thought you'd be waiting until the little princess was older."

Sokanth blinks at her, slow and... not judging, no. Evaluating, maybe.

"I'm almost thirteen," she says, slow and deliberate and heavy. "And Ben's eleven. There's no hard age limit for becoming a padawan, but I'm getting into the peak years for getting chosen, and I've been living here instead of in the Temple. I haven't had years to impress a potential Master like the others. That might not matter; sometimes a Master sees their future student and just knows, but... I need to have other Jedi to spar with, not just Skyguy and Ben. And Ben's visions are getting stronger, and Dad was never that good with his own in the first place, so he's worried about being able to help at all. We could stay longer, but..."

She trails off, and shrugs, and the weighted air disappears. "It's not the same thing as a verd'goten, at all, but it's about the same age, you know? I should be in the Temple for it."

"What would a verd'goten equivalent be?" Hujnak prompts, when Na-Tsuyon fails to find her words. "Being an adult and equal member and all such things?"

"Knighthood," Soka answers immediately. "Dad got knighted when he was twenty, but that's really young, usually. His master was knighted at twenty-five, which was a bit late, but apparently there was a whole dramatic thing going on there that Dad never got all the details about."

"Becoming a Padawan is a sign that your teachers see you as someone that is ready to take on the responsibilities of a Jedi, yes?" Hujnak asks. "That you may not be ready to go out on your own, but that you're old enough to understand your oaths and choose how to follow them, and to protect others?"

Sokanth considers this, and then nods. "Yeah, I guess it's similar to using the verd'goten to gauge if someone's ready to swear the Resol'nare, that way. Still not moving out, and just about entering an apprenticeship, but enough of an adult to make the choice of how to change the world."

"I think most cultures have something like that around the same age," Hujnak comments. "Some do it a bit later in the teens, but it's usually around your age that most... well, most cultures who age at the 'human standard' rate--"

Na-Tsuyon can't help the reflexive snort of derision. Neither can Soka. Hujnak, the closest to human in the room and yet still very much not, smiles like this is exactly what he intended.

"--most who age at that rate do have it somewhere in that eleven-to-seventeen range, I'd think."

Soka shrugs. "Yeah, well. Still gotta go to the Temple for it, you know?"

"Are you going to take the verd'goten at all?" Na-Tsuyon asks, suddenly a little desperate to keep the Skywalkers here, with Mandalore and all its people, just a fraction of a moment longer.

"I don't think so," Soka muses. "I've been thinking about it, but I should probably talk about it with Jango, yeah?"

"Yeah," Na-Tsuyon says, and feels like she's swallowing down around rocks.

----

As it turns out, the timing is very deliberate. Three weeks later, Jaster transfers the title of Mand'alor to his son.

(Though Na-Tsuyon does not know this, twenty-six is older than Jango was when he lost the title, once upon another life.)

There is a week of festivity. There is food, and drink, and dancing. Some people get married. Some people make announcements of impending births. Some people reveal songs they composed in preparation for this very day.

For a week, Mandalore celebrates a new king.

Then, the Jedi and his children leave.

(Ben gives Na-Tsuyon a hug before he goes.)

(She tries to understand why she feels like she's losing something when he does.)

#Obi Wan Kenobi #Anakin Skywalker #Ahsoka Tano #Shmi Skywalker #JangoShmi #Jango Fett #Disaster Lineage #star wars #time travel #de aging #mandalore #mandalorian culture #phoenix posts #Anakin and the Jedi Babies #tattoos #original characters #outsider pov #this is part one of three I think #it's two in the diddly darn morning and I am going to bed

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dilukha · 3 years

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Here I see a countless "how herbivores are opressed" and "how carnivores are opressed posts, and while usually they get uncomfortably too close to paralleling each to a real instance of opression (i see herbivores' opression compared to gender and carnivores to race a lot, for instance), which is not really possible due to the nature of herbivore/carnivore dynamics in the actual text, i do largely agree with a lot of the points. However, a thing I really dislike is how in these posts the struggles of one side are always used to negate the struggles of the other. I don't actually think the point of the manga is "are herbivores or carnivores the ones who have it worse", but rather how these conflicts clash in a way that pushes society's entire narrative.

I think one of the best things about Beastars is how it allows us to analyze some things about our on society without being a complete parallel to it, and how it presents the unique perspectives of each of the characters. In every one of them, we are shown how society at large has affected their sense of self-worth and put them into a box.

For carnivores, their opression is largely focused on society's refusal of adapting to their needs and forcing them into submission to create a more friendly and palatable image. Not only meat-eating instincts are incredibly hard to supress, specially under emotional turmoil or stress, but they're even asked to literlly hide their fangs and claws. I think Riz is the character that represents that opression in the best way. The society he lives in is simply not made for him (breaking things is not unusual), but instead of large-scale adaptation process that help make bears' lives easier, they're forced to take pills with terrible physical AND psychological side-effects that don't even solve the problem to its full extent. Easy solutions that don't account for the roots of each problem are an emblem of the narrative. That's true in the case of bears but it softly extends to every other carnivore, who live in fear of hurting or even killing the very second control is lost, which is something society at large completely fails to adress.

On the other hand, herbivores are characterized by their fear of dying. And it really isn't too prejudiced, it's a completely real and justified fear. You are as likely to be killed by a random carnivore in the street as you are to be killed by a carnivore that actively likes you and enjoys your company. There's no winning scenario other than mantaining your distance. And while it's true that some herbivores have a superior class standing, that goes mostly to middle-sized ones like deer and horses. Small herbivores have none of that privilege, and their lives are seen as expendable - especially in the case of Haru, who is one of the best herbivore narratives imo. There's also the fact that society puts most of their worth in their bodies, both sexually (like Cosmo, who is seeked out by carnivores for that exact reason) and as products (like the cows being exploited for their milk). As a result, specially small herbivores rarely have any authority at all.

I think the best way to explain how their opression goes both sides is with predation cases. Let's take Tem's death for example. His death is manufactured by the media to spread fear-mongering and vitriol against carnivores, and carnivores close to the incident are much more likely to receive bad treatment. However, this doesn't actually come with any benefit to herbivores. The authorities made zero effort to actually investigate Tem's death. Riz did absolutely nothing to actually clean up the scene or his tracks and even Pina acknowledges that catching him should have been ridiculously easy, yet they did nothing. The incident was used to increase conflict between species without addressing the root causes of it.

And it's seen time and time again. The mayor refuses to do anything about Haru being *literally* kidnapped and having her life in danger simply because it might put his image and management under a bad light. Yahya uses his power and influence to get what he wants (cough murder juice), and what he actually does for society (catching criminals) doesn't actually do anything to solve the root causes of those issues, because conflict benefits him. It is "those in power" who can feed from the vitriol in society. And "those in power" cannot be pinned on one or the other either, because just as the company owners with influence over the economy are mostly herbivores, the police who violently enforce society's rules and enjoy positions of power are carnivores.

That's why I don't think that what it is to be taken from the manga is as easy as "carnivores are the most opressed" or "herbivores are the most opressed", but rather "carnivores' and herbivores' opression is used to manufacture conflict in a way that benefits those in power and perpetuates the status quo".

#long post #sorry for the rant #and no offence to anyone who defends either of those two positions #but i think it needs to be said #as someone who identifies with both the struggles of carnivores and herbivores it really hits a little badly when one is put under the othe #and also both riz and haru get a lot of shit and i'm here to white knight for them sorry #beastars #dil.txt #beastars spoilers

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wordsnstuff · 4 years

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20 Mistakes To Avoid in Enemies To Lovers

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Weak Conflict

There should always be a strong, compelling source of tension between two people who are considered enemies. Even if their rivalry stems from external sources, such as bad blood between families or competing for a number one spot, there should always be a concrete reason why they hate each other.

Not Explaining Forgiveness

When one of these conflicts subsides, or a tense moment resolves, it should be justified. Tension and emotions shouldn’t disappear because you’re trying to stuff romantic moments in here and there. If one of your characters crosses a line and the other character chooses to forgive them, there needs to be a clear and understandable reason. It doesn’t always have to sit well with the reader. Your character can make a blatantly stupid decision, but it needs to serve the plot.

No Tension To Be Found

If your characters have to verbally or physically assault each other to demonstrate the tension between them, you’re doing it wrong. If they have to kiss for the reader to see that they like each other, you’re doing it wrong. Tension is in the little things. It’s in the instances that most people would overlook, but your characters zero-in on because the subtext is too thick to gloss over. Tension is the most important plot device in enemies-to-lovers stories, so it requires a lot of time and attention to minute details.

Conflict Solved Too Easily

If the rivalry between your characters is one misstep after another, with immediate forgiveness following, the tension won’t build correctly. You’re working your way up to a boiling over moment. A moment where everything comes out and then, once resolved, makes way for the romantic feelings to enter. If the conflicts don’t slowly build on each other, that boiling moment will come out of nowhere and be less satisfying to read. Don’t let your characters off that easily. Enemies aren’t constantly letting things slide.

Characters Changing For One Another

People don’t need to be exactly the same to see attractive qualities in one another. It’s true that relationships shift your perspective and that it occasionally results in outward changes in behavior, but one or both characters shouldn’t mold their personality around their partner.

Stupid Potion

If one of your characters has to become oblivious or avoid critical thought to maintain a relationship with that character, you haven’t made the two characters compatible enough. This is especially true when one or both of your character’s identity revolves around a higher intelligence. They should have enough in common that there doesn’t have to be a giant shift in one or both personalities to work as a couple.

The Relationship Brings Them Down

The thing about enemies to lovers stories is that the happy endings are usually an indication of the author’s view of what is and is not forgivable in a potential partner. The acceptance of someone’s past mistakes, current flaws, and future struggles. When a love story ends with a couple that repeatedly lower each other or hurt each other, that sends a bad message, and that is your responsibility to avoid. It doesn’t need a happy ending, but it should never have a destructive one.

Writing Abuse Instead of Rivalry

There is a big difference between writing two equals who have a rivalry slowly falling in love and putting aside their differences, and writing an abusive, predatory love interest who repeatedly hurts, manipulates, and gaslights the main character. Just because you can imagine the character forgiving them doesn’t mean they’re a good partner. Cheating, physical abuse, isolation, passive aggression, and manipulation are not character flaws. They’re not “mistakes” that the character needs to forgive in order to save their relationship. It’s abuse, and when you write a story between an abuser and a victim that has a happy ending, that has consequences.

Revealing Feelings In A Cliché Way

This is very subjective, however, there are also a plethora of tropes to choose from and an infinite amount of alterations you can apply to make them your own. The objective, however, is to build up to it in a way that creates a satisfying payoff, and an interesting moment that serves all of the work you’ve done to build to it. There’s nothing worse than reading chapters and chapters of build up, anticipating a big moment where sparks fly, and then having all of that tension result in a sad sputter of mediocrity.

Instant Trust

Trust is difficult to build between two people, especially when they have a complicated past. Trust is earned, no matter who you are or what you’ve been through, it’s always a process. It’s never inherent. When two characters have a history of betrayal or hurt, trust is going to be even harder to develop between them, and that process is an opportunity for more tension, character development, conflict, and eventually a satisfying resolution. Trust development is a major plot device, and I recommend you take advantage of it. It’s also a huge opportunity for building romantic tension amongst the angst of trials and tribulations.

Why Do They Hate Each Other, Though?

There’s a thin line between love and hate, and that line is infatuation; obsession. So, what put the two of them on the bad side of that line? This reason is the main conflict. The overarching plot begins with the point where that rivalry either begins or is challenged after a long while of stagnation, and it ends with the two characters crossing over that line into love. You need to make that beginning point very clear.

Rivalry Shouldn’t Just Dissolve

There needs to be a transitionary period that is tense and awkward with scattered moments that make the effort worth it to both of them. There should be a “Well, we hated each other last week and then they did some really sweet things and now I’m not so sure. Maybe we’re starting to become friends now? I feel really excited when I see them, so I must not hate them anymore, right?” period.

Complete Opposites

Yes, opposites can attract. Yes, completely different people can fit together very well and have a happy relationship, but this is a cliché and is, in most cases, poorly thought out with little to no originality.

Love With No Reason

Just like your characters need a reason to hate each other, they need a reason to love each other. There has to be something that makes them work. Not just a common hobby or characteristic or exterior aspect they share, but something that makes them fit together. If they love each other because... they can, your reader will feel like they’re watching two stupid, lonely people tolerate each other’s flaws in the interest of sex or companionship for 100 pages.

No Actual Conflict Resolution

Relationships are built through conflict resolution. Communication, empathy, effort, and understanding between two people who work to make each other happy. Hollow forgiveness is not apart of that process, and if that’s all there is, you’re not developing a realistic relationship between compatible people, you’re depicting a toxic relationship that, in the case of these origins, can be abusive.

Underusing Sexual Tension

Sexual tension is great. It’s easy to develop, it has a satisfying payoff, and it doesn’t take up a lot of space on the pages. It doesn’t have to result in x-rated material, especially if you’re writing for a young adult audience, but it’s simple and effective.

No Awkward Transition Period

A large chunk of the plot should be awkward and uncomfortable to watch. The transition should be organic and make sense for your characters, but all organic movement contains struggle. Nobody goes from hating each other to loving each other overnight, and relationships are complicated and require hard work. Show this.

Catalogue Characters

There are enough stories out there with cardboard characters and self-insert protagonists, especially in romance. Make your protagonists unique and individual. Make your characters diverse and interesting to read about. Readers should have a bit of wiggle room for imagination, but that doesn’t mean they should be filling in the blanks like your characters are Mad Libs. Don’t close your eyes and point at character archetypes to form your cast. It’s obvious and lazy.

Stagnant Tone

The tone of these stories often falls flat because in the interest of building tension, writers ignore purposeful tone shifting, scene-to-scene. Change it up, make it potent, and make a lasting impact during important moments. Suspense and anticipation shouldn’t just build during the climax and resolution.

Bad Pacing

When your readers spend hours reading a story that promises a romantic payoff, they expect to see some of it. I think that a three act structure is really effective with this type of arc, with the first third being devoted to building rival tensions, the middle third being the shift from rivals to friends, and the last third building that romantic tension and ending with a happy resolution.

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obeymehasinfluncedmythoughts · 4 years

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Hey, I was wondering if you could do something about the brothers comforting Mc. Your one of my favorite writers and I've been having some relationship trouble and could use some fluffy demon boys . If you don't want to I understand, don't feel obligated to do this! anyway I hope you have a nice day!

Aw! I know what that feels like babe. Usually I pick things from the bottom of my pile to write (unless I'm struck with like, lighting quick inspiration lmao), but I saw you said you were struggling and felt I had to make some sort of attempt. Sometimes real people just suck, and sometimes real relationships do too, but don't let it ever hold you back from finding happiness. I almost did. I'm thankful I didn't. Good luck darling!

On another note, I need to find someone to explain how to get this damn stardew valley mod! Time to find some ancient youtube video lmao

Also! WARNING:mentions of panic attacks!

Lucifer

Lucifer is pretty decent when it comes to comfort.

Not really in such an emotional sense. Yes, he does express his care for you, and he'll always insist that whatever issue you're dealing with is so minuscule compaired to your being, but truthfully he's very good with the facts.

He lays it all out fairly plainly. You'll get the questions like "Why is this bothering you?", "What can you do to fix it?", "If you can't change anything, why are you so adamant on punishing yourself for not trying?", ext.

He'll even ask you what the benefits are of fixing the issue/relationship, if it's even worth it, and help you sort out whatever muddled emotions you might be feeling.

You might still feel sad, but that's okay. Feeling sad is apart of change, and with Lucifer by your side, change will happen in the most productive way possible.

Mammon

He doesn't really know why you came to him first.

He's not exactly known for his problem-solving skills and tender hand.

Which is pretty solid assumption, proven by the way he automatically rises to go beat up who/what is bothering you.

Mammon looks so enraged it's almost goofy.

You'll have to stop him from causing chaos.(*cough* raising hell *cough*)

Amongst all his anger and your giggled pleas for him to calm down and just hold you, you forget what you're upset over.

It's not a permanent fix. You'll still feel all the hurt again, but in that moment it's an escape.

Sometimes taking a break from the pain isn't that bad, especially when you're accompanied by a white-haired demon content on overwriting that memory with cheesy action films.

Leviathan

This is not really a scenario he ever thought he'd find himself in.

Like, sure, you complain to him about school, and his brothers, but you're never crying or red in the face.

He's kinda at a loss for words.

So he acts on instinct, cutting you off by wrapping you in his arms

(He saw this is an anime once, he thinks?)

It's tight and restrictive and just enough to keep you from running over the line leading to a panic attack.

You'll stay like that for a while, up until you start laughing at his awkward conversation tactics or the blush on his face.

He makes you promise never to go through these things alone, because no one should have to.

Satan

Satan is an armchair psychologist.

Sometimes it does wonders. The coping methods he repeats are good for problems that would normally ruin your day.

But in situations where all you can do is lay on your bed and feet over the smallest of things, it's a little too late. All you want him to do is hold you.

He isn't really for it at first, making attempts to get you to try all the things your normally do, but eventually he caves.

Then Satan realizes, sometimes all you need to do is just vent. To get out all your grievances. You don't need advice, you don't need opinions, you just need to state your feelings.

He's okay with that.

Asmodeus

Asmodeus is the queen of unhealthy coping skills.

He takes you out drinking, and by the time you two come stumbling home, you're both in tears over something with no real answers or comfort.

The whole night you'll just cling onto each other in a drunken stupor

It doesn't do much to help.

But it does do a bit.

You'll now have the memory of staying up late, clinging to Asmo as both of you sob to each other like some movie aimed at highschool girls.

Being stupid and reckless feels fun, but it doesn't really help.

Beelzebub

Beelzebub is a good listener and gives advice like a wise old man.

He's honest, and tells you what you need to know in the most delicate and basic way possible.

Will cuddle you until you feel better.

Might make you a snack or a hot drink to calm your nerves. It just depends on how you're feeling

Rubs your back in a calm, soothing way. After a long rant it will always make you sleepy.

He'll probably encourage you to take a hot bath and change into pajamas before you go to bed before you fall asleep. Beel says it will make you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

It does help, and you always sleep well with Beelzebub.

Belphegor

Belphie helps you in the only way he knows how; trash talk.

(Or sleep, but it's hard to sleep when you're so upset)

He'll encourage you to let out your frustrations with little comments worded just right, always aimed at making you feel justified.

Tbh he might just make you feel more riled up, but at leas you aren't sad.

At least you'll be able to sleep it all off in the arms of someone you know loves and cares for you!

#obey me #obey me!#obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me belphegor #obey me satan #obey me mammon

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zeta-in-de-walls · 4 years

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Analysis on Tommy’s character’s mental state as a result of the exile arc.

Hey guys, I often makes posts discussing Tommy’s character and one thing that absolutely can’t be ignored is how his character has been traumatised by his experiences during exile. So, I thought I’d discuss in depth and how it’s impacted his behaviour.

In exile Tommy usually described himself as lonely. This is somewhat true but it’s actually a little misleading if you take it at face value. It’s not really loneliness that was his main issue, that was just the easiest one to express. Indeed, people did visit, they just didn’t really help with the issues that were really plaguing him. And there were a few.

-Tommy felt powerless. He was weak and attempting to get stronger himself only lead his hard work to be wasted. Therefore, he was reliant on others for help, and was utterly unable to give them anything back for any help offered.

He also felt trapped, he had to stay on the island so people could find him and visit him but he was not allowed to choose to send time with others himself. He was completely reliant on others deciding to visit him. (Him building not one but two bridges to make it easier for others to visit was all he could do to increase the odds of someone coming to see him.) It wasn’t just loneliness so much as it being something out of his control.

-Tommy felt worthless. He felt like L’Manburg had just seen him as a liability and was increasingly feeling like they were better off without him. No one really cared about him. He didn’t feel like he had value anymore as a person.

He didn’t want someone to visit him, he wanted someone to stay with him - he wanted to feel accepted, validated. That’s why he spent time making a guest tent, so people could spend the night. And was so ecstatic at Mexican Dream agreeing to live with him.

-Tommy is a very clingy person. He’s extremely sociable and becomes attached really easily. He has a hard time letting go too. In exile he constantly missed Tubbo and obsessed over the fact that he hadn’t visited. Leaving on bad terms hurt him. He couldn’t resolve anything and instead his frustration and bitterness grew and grew. He was put into such an awful and dark mindset! Its during this that he lets himself grow attached to Dream instead, who subtly encourages him to believe Tubbo didn’t care.

So, Tommy said he was lonely, but he was way more troubled than he let on.

...

Dream also took advantage of Tommy and performed abusive actions that both confused and traumatised him.

Dream forced him to drop his items, hitting him if he refused and threatening to kill him if he continued to resist. He then acted nice, protecting him, keeping him company and joking around with him.

He lent Tommy his pickaxe and trident. He helped Tommy get primes. He repeatedly blew up Tommy’s armour. He regularly destroyed any diamond tools Tommy got and talked about ‘letting’ him keep some things, like he was being generous. Dream talked about how L’Manburg was prospering with Tommy there, suggesting everyone had moved on while he was the one responsible for sabotaging Tommy’s relationships.

Dream acted like an authority figure, dressing up all his actions as reasonable and Tommy was at fault for making his actions necessary. He lied about Tubbo not caring about his compass. He promised to invite people to his party and then didn’t, letting Tommy believe they chose not to come. Dream’s actions left Tommy increasingly dependent on him, as he was both physically and emotionally very vulnerable (as Dream had induced) and Dream took advantage of it. Finally, when Tommy did a relatively minor act of rebellion, Dream blew up everything. He killed Mushroom Henry and destroyed anything else Tommy was attached to - his tent, the campsite Wilbur built, the prime log.

Now, one of Tommy’s key character flaws is that he is rather irrational. While he can be perceptive, he often gets driven by his emotions rather than logic. (Its part of why he gets attached to things so easily). Usually he doesn’t actually let his feelings control him, but the exile put him under huge emotional turmoil.

-Logically, he always knew that Dream was responsible. He never forgot anything, he was just struggling to process it.

Dream was acting like he cared and Tommy clung on to that. Even once with Techno he described his confusion at his exile and noted that he recalled all the events perfectly but was confused emotionally and basically wasn’t able to deal with his feelings on Dream at all. He knew he ought to hate Dream but wanted to trust him still.

Thinking more on emotions is also why he took Tubbo exiling him so personally - just before Doomsday he apologised and said he understood why Tubbo did it (I think he said it was the right decision even) but at the time he was hurt and felt like Tubbo didn’t care about him. Tommy often acts in the heat of the moment but fixes things afterwards. The issue with his fight with Tubbo was that they were unable to see each other and therefore resolve things, causing it instead to fester and get worse.

So, that’s basically what happened to him throughout exile, but how did this affect his actions? A few different ways.

-He became extremely depressed and almost ended his life. Though he ultimately chose against this, his sense of self-preservation is notably lower. He didn’t seem to be afraid at the possibility of dying during Doomsday. And he was also prepared to confront Dream again over his discs - he had nothing left to lose as far as he was concerned. Once Tommy realised that Dream didn’t want to kill him, he took full advantage of it. He walked up to Dream completely unarmoured while Dream was in full netherite and confidently ordered him around. He was not afraid of dying. And again, he threatened to kill himself if Dream didn’t return after already killing Dream twice. Tommy’s only slowly gaining back his zeal for living.

-He became angry and lashed out. Jack visited him at one point and Tommy spleefed him into lava, killing him absolutely ruthlessly. This is not a nice anger, its a cold destructive one, a result of all his bitterness from his unjust suffering. A minute later, he can only ask, why did he do that? Sometimes, Tommy might seem meeker, but it’s just hiding pain and rage that comes out in the worst of ways.

When no one turns up to his party, Tommy destroys part of the bridge he built for people to visit as he’s angry and has no real way to lash out - it’s not logical but as Tommy expresses: if they really want to visit then they’ll have to make an effort. A few days later he builds another, not because he’s better but because he’s so desperate for company he doesn’t even care if they don’t really care as long as they show up.

His actions while with Techno have him torturing Fundy and Connor, interrogating Ranboo and helping Techno release a wither on L’Manberg. This is not the normal Tommy. This is him releasing his bitterness and rage in a destructive way, with his twisted mindset being vaguely approved of by Technoblade (though even he thought Tommy was going too far!)

-He grew unhealthily attached to anything that gave him any stability in his warped, messed up world. That’s why he started fixating on his music discs so hard. And why he clung to Dream so hard for a while. And why he clung so much to Technoblade, quickly growing dependent on him, desperate for any sort of care and validation.

It’s why he even agreed to help Techno destroy L’Manburg at all. He was in such a warped mindset and wanted to trust Techno even if part of him was appalled by the idea, but his anger at L’Manberg was also clouding his judgement, and he wanted to agree with Techno because Techno cared about him. It’s not Techno or Tommy’s fault but their relationship was messed up thanks to Tommy’s trauma. Tommy was so dependent on Techno and was not able to function properly alone and he was very driven by his emotions, which were in a mess. He could barely sort out his feelings on Dream, let alone L’Manburg or Tubbo. He even let himself believe that all they were doing was minor terrorism, when Techno hadn’t hid his intentions that much at all.

-Tommy blames himself for all that occurred. When the anger faded, and he was a little less powerless, Tommy began to get back his own sense of agency, which he’d been lacking for so long. With more clarity, he realised that of course he wanted to forgive Tubbo and make amends. His experiences lead to Tommy feeling like it was up to him to apologise - and he did.

In some respects, there’s some excellent development here - it’s amazing to see him put feelings to one side and realise that his anger and bitterness were hurting him. And he held himself responsible - that his actions, traumatised or not, didn’t justify hurting others. He had been becoming the person he didn’t want to be - and rejected it.

But there’s some worrying signs too - his experiences left him in some ways too apologetic. His sense of self-worth is still low. He didn’t blow up the community house but at one point said he wouldn’t bother defending himself anymore as there was no point, nothing to be gained from arguing about it. He apologised to Sapnap for releasing Mars - wonderful but it was never really necessary. When interacting with the egg, he said he didn’t want to cause yet another war, having internalised the idea that he’s responsible for most conflicts. At one point he even said he blames himself for Doomsday. It’s not healthy to have such a low sense of self-worth. He no longer blames others for not caring about him - but he does blame himself.

....

Well this has been a long post. I hope that better expresses how Tommy’s been affected from his exile. I feel like I’ve seen posts complaining about apologists using trauma to excuse his actions. Not at all! Merely to explain. You cannot discuss Tommy’s current character without discussing his trauma. Likewise, it has been treated seriously by the narrative and Tommy continues to have it affect his character. It’s ongoing. He is improving but it has had a long-lasting impact. Indeed his mental state still feels fragile enough that us fans have been very sensitive to anything that might impact him. Tommy should be handled with care, and few of the characters on the server realise this.

#tommyinnit #meta #analysis #exile arc #aaah angsty #dream smp #long post #honestly though i'm pretty pleased with this analysis #even if the angst got to me even as i wrote it out #i could go on for longer about tommy at techno's #his betrayal was all a result of tommy not being in a healthy state of mind and him switching sides was him finally gaining back control #it was a moment of triumph #of him rejecting his awful mindset #even if you think lmanburg's destruction was justified #tommy's reasoning for doing it wouldn't have been #he'd have been doing it because he was angry and bitter and hurt #and he'd have been unhappy never reconciling with his friends #and also of course he had to fight dream #i think tommys recovered a lot anyway #i fear his imprisonment will lead to more self-doubt and blaming himself #maybe blaming himself for dream becoming bad #and blame himself for all the conflicts #basically believing hes the one who ruined the server #and also maybe that no one cares about him #the fact that no one noticed he was gone is depressing

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meetmeatthecoda · 3 years

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Now that I’ve had some time to cry & mourn & actually think about that horrendous excuse for television... I have... some thoughts.

Firstly, the pace of that episode was insane. I mean, the season itself felt like we were slowly & tortuously hacking our way through a tangled rain forest, trying desperately to see the forest for the trees, but instead stuck cutting vines & branches down one by one... until we got to that finale, which felt comparatively like finally cutting away all the dense foliage only to immediately fall off a fucking cliff. You could just tell they were using the least amount of dialogue they could to move through so many weird emotions at fucking breakneck speed. I mean there was... the brief aftermath in Latvia, the 4 second plane ride to re-introduce Red’s illness after how many eps, Liz’s 3 second long recuperation, the awkward attempt at humor with the helium followed by a crash landing into solemnity at Red’s talk with Cooper, the abrupt & unsatisfying discussion with Red & Liz where he makes his rEqUESt, all the different “heartfelt” one-on-ones with Liz’s people, the fucking forced af “romance” with K**nler, the shoe-horned “chance meeting” with Beth Ryker, the most Agnes has ever talked in the history of ever, the weirdly morbid & fucking heartbreaking walk in the park, the choppy restaurant scene, to the unmentionable... end event. It went all over the place, which is very unlike TBL imo, which usually seems to stick to a theme or emotional center for an entire episode, whether blacklister or mythology driven. I think it was painfully clear how poor their planning was (when they have literally no excuse bc they knew this was coming the whole season???) & just how much shit they were trying to squeeze into one episode.

Secondly - & this may seem obvious, but I think it’s worth talking about anyway - Liz should have gotten her answers. And I’m not just saying this as a Lizzington shipper (I mean, mostly I am, but there are other reasons also!) Primarily, I think bc... literally everyone expected them. Not just bc they were advertised (it’s certainly not the first time they’ve delighted in false advertising in promos when it comes to the all-important AnSwErS) but bc THEY MADE SURE EVERYONE KNEW BEFOREHAND THAT IT WAS MEGAN’S LAST EP. It might have been mildly acceptable to play coy for yet another season finale IF she was coming back in some capacity later to eventually wrap things up, but - given that they fucking slammed the door on that possibility - THEY SHOULD HAVE GIVEN US ANSWERS. I don’t think anyone considered the possibility that they would KILL her & NOT give us answers bc it makes no fucking sense. Additionally, Liz should have gotten her answers simply bc SHE!! DESERVED!! THEM!! They’re literally the thing she’s been fighting for for eight seasons & she fucking died without them? WTF??? But, most importantly to us Lizzington shippers, Liz not getting her answers ruined the park fantasy. I think we all imagined (BC IT WAS MEGAN’S LAST EP) that Red & Liz would finally talk & Red would give her the answers she wanted. I think we all expected from the (misleading) promo that he would make some sense out of the potentially jumbled memories/visions (?) from 8.21 &, most importantly, there would be SOME KIND OF EMOTIONAL TURNING POINT, SOME CATHARSIS, AN UNDERSTANDING & RENEWED LOVE BETWEEN THEM DRIVEN BY THE AFOREMENTIONED REVELATIONS (& LOVE OF WHATEVER KIND, MIND YOU, WE WEREN’T PICKY, JUST SOMETHING FOUNDED ON RECONCILIATION & PEACE.) But - bc they denied us that - Liz was still in the dark & waiting on answers for the entire ep, unable to forgive or reconnect with her true feelings for Red (whatever you believe them to be) & this made her reaction to Red’s rEqUeSt ring very hollow & detached, the whole park bench conversation stilted & awkward (on Liz’s end) & - THE WORST PART - it made the whole park fantasy feel FALSE. It cheapened it. Like she was just indulging him, letting him walk with her & play with Agnes & enjoy one more day of life before she indifferently killed him. The one thing we expected to get, should have gotten, & THOUGHT WE WOULD HAVE NO MATTER WHAT ELSE HAPPENED IN THE FINALE was ruined. With the assisted suicide talk beforehand, the almost begrudging acceptance from Liz, the obvious morbid mindset from Red, the song in the background, the context of it all. It put an awful spin we completely didn’t expect on what should have been our beautiful Lizzington park fantasy. And I think that may be the part that hurts the most - the fact that I can only look at gifs of that scene - bc the music & dialogue & context completely undermine what Liz’s fantasy should have been, that she got for just one afternoon, when she was supposed to be happy & at peace with Red & Agnes.

Thirdly, (anyone still there? lolz) the whole “plot” of this episode was fucking nonsensical. Chiefly - & many other people have pointed this out before now - Red would never ask Liz to kill him. I simply call bullshit. No matter how hard they tried to justify it (& boyyyyy, did they try) Red has never wanted Liz to be a killer, criminal, or have to live a life like him. He has canonically said as much. I could maybe buy the whole “taking over his empire” thing as the seasons progressed, but asking Liz to live with the guilt (however slight or delayed) of killing him, after everything they’ve been through together, after she told him she loves him (seasons ago, but the feelings are still there, albeit buried deep)? And thereby launching her (& by extension Agnes) directly into harm’s way as the “new” Concierge of Crime (?), without him there to guide her from the shadows? No way. Bullshit. Also - & @iwouldlovetoeatyourtoast mentioned this first, I believe - the whole idea of it was stupid anyway bc Liz has spent the entire season chasing him, has repeatedly gotten opportunities to take the big shot, & has always been unable to kill him. It wasn’t even an engaging tWiSt to throw in at the very end bc - even when she agreed to do it - we all knew it wouldn’t happen, also bc Megan was the one leaving & not James. So, it wasn’t a surprise when she broke down at the end & said she couldn’t, so wtf was the point?

Fourthly (almost to the end, god this feels good) & this was a huge tell imo - everyone was OOC. Now you might say that’s the bitterness talking & you might be right... but you fucking try & tell me that 1) Red all of a sudden decides he’s ready for death after how long of not accepting it or mentioning it & absolutely must be killed by Liz & no one else within the next 24-48 hours 2) Liz would willingly go along with that for even a second 3) Dembe wouldn’t try his damnedest to talk Red out of assisted suicide in general & especially coercing Liz into doing it 4) Ressler would be the one to fucking figure it out & hightail it out of bed AFTER BEING ON DEATH’S DOOR WITH A BUSTED LUNG & SEPSIS FFS 5) Wolf Man Van Dyke would even know where to find Liz on a random fucking street corner outside a random fucking restaurant 6) Red wouldn’t see him behind Liz taking aim 7) THERE WOULDN’T BE A DECLARATION OF FEELINGS/LOVE CONFESSION BETWEEN RED & LIZ IN THE 14 MILLION OBVIOUS PLACES THERE COULD HAVE BEEN *PRIMARILY AFTER SHE SAYS “I CAN’T DO IT, I DON’T WANT TO” I MEAN, HELLO????? WTF, WHY WASN’T THERE AN “BC I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU TOO, LIZZIE” LIKE HOW HARD WOULD THAT HAVE BEEN, IT WAS THE PERFECT PLACE, THE LAST CHANCE, & WE FUCKING DESERVED ITTTTTTTTTTT *ahem* & lastly, & most importantly, & I’m definitely going to cry typing this... 8) if you fucking try to tell me that Red would allow himself to be pulled away from Lizzie’s dead body for a second time by Dembe or anyone else (especially when it was only the stupid task force arriving???) without simply crossing the street to load his gun with trembling fingers, pull the trigger, & join her... you’re fucking crazy.

In conclusion, bc this has gone on long enough, this was just... a hasty, sloppy, rushed, unprepared, careless ending on all fronts, no matter how hard they tried to convince us it was totally-100%-on-purpose-of-course-why-do-you-ask? (And I’m not even touching on the Redarina bait bc fuck that shit.) Like, did anyone else feel like when Red was telling Dembe that he was sure & this was what he wanted & really he’s positive so please stop asking, and when he was explaining things to Liz in almost too much detail, and when he was telling Harold this was absolutely necessary... that it was really the writers trying to convince us? It just felt so sudden & forced & heavy-handed & absurdly preventable & at the same time ridiculously unstoppable... I mean, look, whatever drama clearly went on behind the scenes? I think we can all agree that they did a terrible, awful, shit-tastic job on all fronts. And it’s just such a shame that that’s how it ended 💔

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 4 years

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𝑀𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎! 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝐿𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐴 𝐺𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑇𝑜 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟/𝑆/𝑂'𝑠 𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑

Little continuation to this post.

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, supporting, justifying or encouraging mafia activities or lifestyle. This is all fictional and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

❥𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰

You found yourself no longer being afraid of him. Sure things started off completely bad, but he redeemed himself through the care and protection he gave you both. And little by little, your son started to warm up to Hongjoong, eventually becoming quite attached to him. Even though you guys hadn't exactly placed a label on your relationship, it was more than clear you were obviously more than friends.

He enjoyed spending time with you and your son. He especially enjoyed taking him out, with your permission of course. It was in one of those times he took him out to eat. While waiting for the food to arrive, your son took out a deck of cards to pass time.

"Hyung! Wanna play poker?" The little boy asked so innocently it made Hongjoong chuckle.

"Do you know how to play?"

Even with the boy's enthusiastic nod, Hongjoong wasn't actually expecting a game of poker. After all, he's a child. But to entertain him, he decided to play along, even pretend to lose just to make him happy.

But Hongjoong was really surprised when not only does the kid indeed know how to play, but actually won the game. Hongjoong just laughed, thinking it was because he wasn't really trying, but another round, and the boy still beat him.

Hongjoong just blinked slowly, trying to face reality: a 5 year old boy actually beat his ass at poker...... yet he couldn't be prouder.

"Not bad at all." Hongjoong ruffled the ball hair.

"Aww is he your son?" The waitress asked when she set down the plates of food in front of them.

Hongjoong looked over at your son, who had a hopeful twinkle in his eyes. Hongjoong smiled before confidently stating:

"Yeah, he's my son."

❥𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

If you thought Seonghwa wouldn't leave you alone before, now it is 10 times worse. He was always showing up at your house, and you couldn't exactly tell him to leave. One, he's your boss and he's still terrifying, and two, your daughter adores him and is always running to him when he comes.

So you have to constantly put up with him being around, although before it was because you didn't want to get involved with him. Now it was because you were getting too attached to him yourself and you were afraid of that.

That didn't stop Seonghwa. Sooner or later you'd officially be his, but for now, he resigns himself to just helping you with your adorable princess, as he likes to call her.

"What are we going to play today?" Seonghwa asked her, expecting her to take out her dolls or her Candyland board game.

He most definitely was not expecting her to bring out a mini sized roulette wheel to the living room. He looked over at you with a raised eyebrow.

"What? She wanted it and it's not harming anyone." You shrugged.

Seonghwa saw this as an opportunity to get something from you and actually decided to bet: if he won, you'd have to officially go out on a date with him. If your daughter won, he'd buy her anything she wanted, and in this case, she just really wanted ice cream which she'd been craving since she got sick. It was a done deal and Seonghwa thought he'd win. He's played the game so many times in his work, he felt confident.....

But after so many rounds, somehow that tiny girl in front of him seemed to accurately guess the winning number, leaving him stunned. You just laughed as he had no choice but to admit defeat.

"Well it was worth a shot......but a deal's a deal."

Picking up the girl, he kissed her cheek and smiled at her.

"Now let's go get you that ice cream you wanted princess. At least you're willing to go on a date with me."

You couldn't help rolling your eyes at his statement. Maybe one day, you'll say yes.

❥𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

Seonghwa's words ended up becoming a reality: Yunho and you had been married for over a year now and you were still much in love with him as ever. He was happy and proud to finally call you his wife and to show off his son anywhere he went now.

He especially loved taking him with the other guys and their kids to their weekly game nights. Usually the kids would simply run around and play with each other while they sat around the table and play a round of Blackjack. More than one of the kids got interested one night and the men started to teach them how to play.

"So basically, if you get close to 21 without going over, you win." Yunho explained to his son.

"I wanna play!" The little boy exclaimed enthusiastically.

Seonghwa mixed the cards up and handed them to Yunho. Yunho set up the game and turned to the boy.

"Ready?"

To his surprise, and everyone else's, his son beat him in the game. Nobody was really expecting it since he'd never played it before. Yunho was astonished himself.

"Play another round. I wanna see the outcome!" Wooyoung encouraged them.

And after Seonghwa shuffled the cards again, they took turns flipping the cards over. Yunho thought for sure he was going to win since the boy decided to call stop at 16. But when he flipped his card over, it totaled to 28, meaning he automatically lost. Everyone erupted into laughs.

"You just got owned by your own son." Mingi chuckled.

Yunho wasn't upset though. He was happy that his son won. Seeing his giddy smile when he won made him feel content.

"You know, if it had been someone else, you would have been mad that you lost." Seonghwa said to him once they were cleaning up.

"Yeah, but how can I get mad at him? Not with that sunshine smile he gets." Yunho smiled.

"Yeah that's exactly what I thought....which is why I rigged the cards when I shuffled them." Seonghwa confessed.

Yunho turned to him in shock.

"You what?"

Seonghwa began laughing at Yunho's expression.

"Thank me later." Seonghwa winked at him.

"Wait! How many other games have you rigged?!"

❥𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

Some things never changed: Wooyoung and Yeosang were still close as ever. After all, they were not only best friends but also brothers in law. And Wooyoung loved coming over to play with his little niece, who was now nearing 5 years old.

She was such a curious little girl. Like her father, she hardly talked, but would always seem to poke around whenever Yeosang and Wooyoung would play a game amongst themselves. She especially was interested when they would play Roulette, she loved watching the wheel spin.

Sensing her curiosity, Wooyoung picked her up and sat her in his lap.

"All right baby girl, wanna help out Uncle Wooyoung? Pick a number."

That's how it ended up going: the little girl would point to a number, not sure what it would do, but for some reason, Wooyoung would end up screaming in victory.

"I'm telling you! This kid has powers or something!" Wooyoung said, holding her up higher and kissing her cheek.

You came in the room just as he was parading her around.

"What in the world are you doing with my daughter Wooyoung?" You asked, knowing your brother was up to one of his shenanigans again.

"Celebrating the fact she helped me beat your husband and now he owes me 500 dollars. Haha!" Wooyoung released his unique hyena laugh.

You turned to look at Yeosang and gave him a questioning gaze.

"Did you just teach our daughter how to gamble?"

Yeosang raised his hand to argue.

"In my defense, it was all Wooyoung's fault."

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

San felt so proud of his son. Not only did he just beat him at poker, but he never even taught him how to play himself. He simply learned by watching him play with Mingi whenever he came over.

"Do you know what this means Y/N?!" San of course had to tell you about this accomplishment.

"That you're sleeping on the couch for teaching our son to gamble?" You replied, not at all happy with this information.

"It means our son is a genius! Y/N! You and I created a really smart kid! Isn't that amazing! Aren't you proud of him?" He exclaimed.

"Choi San, I'd be proud if he had won a spelling bee, gotten straight A's or won a soccer match, but knowing our son can play poker at 6 years old is somewhat concerning to me."

You crossed your arms over your chest.

"Honestly San, how could you teach him those types of games?"

San gasped.

"Were you not listening? I told you! I didn't have to teach him! He learned himself by watching me and Mingi play!" He repeated himself.

You squinted your eyes at him before walking away from him.

"You're still sleeping on the couch." You said.

San began to whine.

"Oh come on Y/N! It's not that bad!"

"Why not teach him to play monopoly instead? Family friendly games?" You called out from the kitchen.

"Monopoly?! Are you insane?! That devil game destroys relationships!"

❥𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

Mingi knew that he was screwed the minute he allowed his daughter tag along with him to Yunho's house. But he couldn't say no to her when she was looking at him with those doe eyes and pouting lips.

"I want to go with daddy." She begged, tears threatening to spill out.

So there Mingi went, bringing in a 4 year old to his best friend's house, where the other mafia members were also gathered.

"Stuck with babysitting duty?" Yeosang asked him when he came in, his tiny daughter on one of his arms.

"Don't make me say something in front of her." Mingi warned.

"Ok ok, settle down you guys. And let's try to keep it PG for the princess here." Yunho said, trying to keep the environment safe.

Clearly Jongho and Yeosang didn't understand that since they took advantage of the fact Mingi was occupied in a phone call to teach his daughter the basics of blackjack, which she caught on quick. Mingi came back to the scene and was shocked.

"What the hell are you two doing?!" Mingi screeched.

"Language." Hongjoong reminded him.

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" Mingi picked her up from Jongho's grasp.

"Playing! Want to play with me?" She pleaded with him.

Mingi thought that one round wouldn't hurt her. They'd play, they'd leave and he'd pretend like this never happened. But it did hurt. It hurt him when his daughter beat him, not once, but 5 times! Because she liked the game so much and kept asking him to play again and again.

"Can we play with mommy when we get home?"

Mingi's heart sank as he realized how you were going to react when you found out he took her to Yunho's house and she might have become a blackjack enthusiast.

"Uh.....sweetie how about we don't tell mommy about this? Hmm?"

❥𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

"Are you ready to get your butt kicked yet again son?" Wooyoung smirked at his 7 year old son.

"I'll beat you this time old man!" The little boy held up his fist, making Wooyoung chuckle.

Although Wooyoung had wanted a little girl, he loved his son to death. He was his best friend, his playmate, his new partner in crime, and more often than not, it resulted in both of them getting in trouble with you. He was the exact replica of his father, personality wise that is. Physically, he resembled you more.

You were disappointed when you found out Wooyoung had been teaching his son to play, not just poker, but every single card game known to man. But boys will be boys, and your son was just as competitive as his father and vowed that one day he'd beat him in one game.

"Keep dreaming buddy." Wooyoung would usually respond to him.

But the day finally came. Your son beat his own father and mentor in a card game. Wooyoung just stood there for a minute, contemplating if this was reality.

"What the fuck just happened?!" Wooyoung completely forgot that he shouldn't swear in front of his kid. As if he didn't forget almost every day.

"I beat your sorry ass old man!" The kid began running around with joy.

Wooyoung stared at him in disbelief.

"You cheated didn't you?! I demand a rematch you little demon."

Wooyoung began chasing the little boy down. You came in the room, wondering what all the fuss was about. You managed to scoop up your son in your arms.

"What is going on around here?" You demanded to know.

"Boomer here can't accept the fact I kicked his shitty ass." Your son stuck his tongue out at Wooyoung.

You widened your eyes.

"Where on earth did you learn those words?"

Wooyoung looked at your son, silently begging him to blame Mingi or Yunho. But the little boy grinned at him evilly before responding:

"Daddy did of course."

You whipped your head to Wooyoung, who just started laughing nervously.

"Kids say the darnest things these days....right?"

❥𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

You absolutely refused to at first. But you gave in and started bringing your daughter to work with you because Jongho kept insisting. The other people would often fawn over her cause she was just the most adorable and precious being they've ever seen.

Jongho doted on her the most. People were shocked to see him hold her in his arms, gift her endless presents and overall just show a side of him they'd never seen before. You were surprised yourself. How on earth was this young mafia boss so good with kids?

You hated to admit it, but you actually felt more relaxed than before. Now you knew Jongho would never use your daughter against you and spent time with her because he found her cute. So you had no problem leaving her alone with him at times.

During one of these times, you were busy making several calls to different people and checking certain 'materials' that needed to be looked over to make sure it was what Jongho ordered. Having been satisfied that it was, you went back to the office and found Jongho and your daughter sitting across from each other, cards displayed in front of them.

When Jongho saw you, he smiled.

"Hello there Mrs. Choi." He'd often call you that just to tease you.

"Jongho, I swear if you are teaching my daughter poker or any card game-"

"Relax baby. We're actually just playing speed. I'm not dumb enough to teach a 3 year old girl any sort of those things. That's something Wooyoung or San would do." He interrupted you.

During his conversation with you, he didn't realize the little girl had already finished up all her cards, making her the winner. Jongho looked down at the 5 cards he still had left. He turned to you and frowned.

"See? Now you made me lose."

He sighed and looked at your daughter's smiling face. It was contagious and it made him smile as well.

"But since it's you I don't mind at all." He cooed at her, cupping her cheeks in the process.

He then turned to you.

"You however, it was your fault I lost. You should make it up to me." He said as he lifted your daughter in his arms as if she were only a feather.

You rolled your eyes.

"And how do you want me to make it up to you?"

Jongho smirked at you. Since the beginning, he had been asking you constantly to be his, and this time, it was no different.

"Say yes."

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

#ateez #ateez reactions #ateez mafia au #mafia!au #mafia!ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho

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onceuponaloonatic · 3 years

Note

How did 3na rekindle their relationship? Thank you in advance and have an amazing day/night!

sorry this took a while !! i'm the only person with a car in my friend group so i play chauffeur a lot so i've been exhausted from helping other people move but i finally got this done !! i hope you guys enjoy !!

“Miss Minatozaki!” Sana couldn’t fight a smile as she heard Saki’s voice. It was nearing the end of the school year, and she had found herself sad at the thought of never being able to see Saki again. She had started crashing all the time they had together, knowing it was going to come to an end soon.

“Hi Saki. What are you doing here so late after school?” Sana asked. School had let out hours ago, and Sana was just waiting for Jihyo to come by with Nico so they could take their daughter to a doctor’s appointment. “I had science club!” Saki explained excitedly. Sana nodded, vaguely remembering Saki saying she was in the school’s science club. It made sense for her, Saki had always enjoyed doing science in school. “How was it?” “It was so fun! We built bridges out of sticks!” Saki explained. “Sounds like a lot of fun. Do you know if your mom is almost here to pick you up?” “She should be. Club let out at 5. But on Tuesdays mama has to get Sai from softball too so she’s usually late picking me up from science.” Saki explained. “Do you have Nico?” “No, but she’s coming with her mama to pick me up from work.” Sana answered. She understood why Saki would ask that, the rare times she did see Sana after school, Sana was usually leaving and since Momo always brought Nico when she picked her up Saki usually saw her with Nico. “Nico’s mama?” Saki asked. “Your wife?” “Uh yeah, that's right.” Sana nodded, shuffling around awkwardly.

“But you don’t wear a ring like my moms’ do.” Saki pointed out. “Mama told me she never takes her ring off cause it’s proof she’s married to ka-san.” “Not everyone can wear their ring all the time, Saki. Some people can’t wear them because of their jobs.” Sana attempted to justify.

“But Mrs.Kim and Mrs.Song wear theirs every single day.” Sana really wished Saki was less perceptive. She knew her student was extremely perceptive, and quite smart, and while normally Sana was proud of her, she could see why this was a bit of an issue. The girl was too smart for her own good. “Mm… Well Nico’s mama and I we uh- we don’t need rings.” “Is it because you're not married?” Saki asked.

“No, no- we just uh don’t like jewelry all that much. But that’s okay, cause we love each other.” Sana explained. “Saki! There you are! You know what we said about running off…” Nayeon paused when she saw Sana. “Hi mama.” Saki smiled at Nayeon. “Oh hi Nay- Miss Im-Myoui. Saki and I here were just discussing things from class-”

“No we weren’t. We were talking about your wife.” Saki nodded. At the mention of it, Nayeon couldn’t help but think about the pictures she came across on Jihyo’s instagram of her with another woman. There were barely any pictures of Sana on there at all actually. No wedding photos, no vacation photos. Just a couple of pictures from when they had Nico. “Oh uh… Okay? Saki come on, your sister is waiting for us.” Nayeon looked at Sana one more time, painfully noticing Sana’s lack of a scent marking. “But I wanted to see Nico.” Saki whined. “Miss Minatozaki said her mama was bringing her.” “Saki I’m sure that would be troubling for Miss Minatozaki, let’s just get home and start on dinner-” Nayeon trailed off when she noticed someone else coming towards them. When they reached them, Saki took off in a dash and Sana wasn’t far behind. “Nico!” Saki giggled. “You're so much bigger!” Jihyo smiled at Saki’s praise, holding one hand around Nico’s stomach while the baby giggled at all the attention. It didn’t take long for her to notice Nayeon though, and she couldn’t help but notice the death glare Nayeon was giving her. “Yup, she’s been growing a lot lately.” Sana smiled, taking one of Nico’s hands. “She even has started doing more stuff too like laughing and eating real food.” Sana was so focused on Nico and by extension Saki, she didn’t notice the staring match Nayeon and Jihyo were engaged in. “Hey Sana, can you take Nico for a second?” Jihyo asked, beginning to unstrap her daughter.

“Oh sure. Why though?”

“Mrs.Im and I are going to have a little chat. Her company recently hired my firm, so I’m sure you can imagine there’s a lot needed to discuss.” Jihyo explained. Sana looked at her suspiciously, but didn’t question. She took Nico into her arms and Saki seemed fascinated by Nico as Sana explained what she was learning. Jihyo motioned for Nayeon to follow her, and the older woman followed her into the hallway. “So you're a lawyer?” Nayeon asked, feeling a bit of intrigue. She had never actually talked to Jihyo, despite knowing her for almost seven years now. She was just someone Sana was friends with. Even if Nayeon had felt a lot of jealousy towards her when Sana was pregnant, she had never actually spoken to Jihyo. “Civil prosecutor, but yes anyway...” Jihyo nodded. “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?”

“You're cheating on Sana.” Jihyo couldn’t stifle her laughter. “Don’t laugh this is super serious stuff- I can’t believe you would cheat on your wife and then post about it on instagram and even laugh about it-”

“My wife?” Jihyo giggled. “Sana would never marry me. That would be like marrying my sister, weird on so many levels. Sure we have Nico so I completely understand the misunderstanding, but we are not married. How can I cheat on someone I’m not even with in the first place?”

“But-but Sana said you two were married-” It was then that everything clicked in Jihyo’s head. Sana had said that. She had told Jihyo about it and everything. She had just completely forgotten. And now she felt so stupid. “Oh yeah, yeah. We um, we are taking a break?” Jihyo attempted to justify. “We never got married officially, so I got a little confused.” “A break?” “Yeah uh, we decided being just friends is better for now.” Jihyo explained. “But Nico is still- she’s very little still. So we are still seeing each other as friends.” “Oh… I see.” Nayeon nodded. “Were you cheating on her before or after you split up?” “I- I never cheated on Sana.” Jihyo nodded. “I would never. Believe it or not I actually love her. Unlike you and your wife.” “Hey you don’t have a right to say anything about that. You don’t know anything-”

“I know you hurt her. You have no right to lecture me, you completely broke Sana. In a way Momo and I have tried to fix. We’ve tried so hard to fix her. But the two of you-you completely broke Sana. Was it worth it? Was making the media happy worth losing Sana?” Jihyo couldn’t stop herself from letting it spill out. Her feelings towards Nayeon and Mina had been building for so long, and now she couldn’t help them from spilling over.

“You don’t know anything-”

“I know my best friend got hurt.” Jihyo interjected. “She’s still being hurt by your choices, and to me that’s all matters.” Nayeon fell silent after that, taking a while to think out what to say.

“We messed up, Mina and I both know that. And I’m sorry Sana had to get hurt in the process, but we can’t take it back. We didn’t want them to meet at all, but Sana said it was okay and Saki wanted it so- it’s almost over.” “So what, your just going to go back to your fantasy land with your perfect family?” Jihyo asked. “This year isn’t something Sana is just going to forget. She loves Saki. She loves all the other girls. I know if you guys cut all contact with her again and go back to your perfect little life, Sana is going to be crushed all over again. I love Sana, not romantically, but more than you ever will. And because of that, I can’t just let her get hurt again.” “You know nothing about how I feel about Sana.” Nayeon growled. “Oh yeah? You chose your image over her. That doesn’t seem like love to me.” Jihyo rolled her eyes. “Sana always talked about you two like you were so perfect. Even after you guys screwed her over she never said a single bad thing about you two. She’s so good, but look at what you two did to her. You hurt the human sunshine and you have the audacity to stand here and claim you care about her after fucking her over for six years.” “I’m not claiming anything- I care about Sana. I do-I do, and Mina does too. It hasn’t been easy for us either. Every night I can barely sleep because I think about her. Every night Mina has nightmares about Sana. But-but we made a decision and we have to live with it. Even if I want more than anything to take it back, we can’t just change our minds now. We already messed everything up, it can’t go back to how it’s supposed to be.” “So your saying that people can’t change their minds? Your saying that because you made a mistake once you can’t change it?” Jihyo rolled her eyes. “You, Im Nayeon, are the biggest idoit on the plant.” “Even if we tried, it would just hurt Sana more. She’s-she’s better off like this. Trust me.” Nayeon nodded. “Your saying she’s better off in an almost unbearable pain than forgiving you. You have no idea how hurt she has been. We aren’t omegas, but both of us are sires. Imagine if someone took your kids away from you, and said you could never see them again because of a mistake they made. Wouldn’t that drive you crazy? I know if someone took Nico from me like that- I would go crazy. Try seeing this from Sana’s perspective.” “But-but she wouldn’t forgive us. Not after what we have done-”

“That doesn’t matter. If you just- give her the chance she’s wanted for six years. To form a meaningful connection with her kids. It doesn’t matter what she thinks of you or what you think of her, being a parent should come first.” Jihyo nodded. “I’m not saying you should try to get her back or anything like that. You absolutely should not do that. But- at least give her the opportunity to meet her kids properly.” “I-I’ll think about it.” “Good.” Jihyo sighed. “Now let’s get back, Nico does have somewhere she needs to be.” When they returned, Sana and Saki were wering matching smiles as Saki waved a baby toy in front of Nico. Nayeon couldn’t stop her heart from aching when she remembered how similar Sana and Saki’s smiles were.

That night, Sana received a text to meet Mina and Nayeon at a coffee shop not too far from the school she taught it. Needless to say, she was terrified.

“Bye baby girl.” Sana sighed, kissing Nico’s cheek.”Behave for Auntie Momo.” “She always does.” Momo laughed, scoping Nico up into her arms. “Come here sweetie, let’s do all the things your mom says you can’t.”

“I’ll be back in a bit.” Sana breathed out a sigh of nerves. “You got this Sana. You never know, it could go well.” Momo offered. “Or I could lose them forever.” Sana sighed.

“Don’t think about it that way. Anyway, remember to use protection and call me if you can’t walk home.” “Don’t make it sound like I’m going to sleep with them!” Sana protested. “That’s not what this is-”

“Bye Sana.” Momo ignored her and pushed her out of their house. Sana sighed and clutched her purse tightly, taking another deep breath before starting on her walk. She couldn’t stop her mind from wandering the whole way there. It seemed so out of the blue. It stressed her out.

Mina and Nayeon are waiting there for her. They both are dressed in casual clothing, and Sana had forgotton how adorable Mina’s oversized sweaters were and how hot Nayeon looked in sweatpants.

“Hello.” Sana sighed when she sat at the table they were at. Mina and Nayeon were both sitting opposite of her, which was more than a little intimidating. “Hey.” Nayeon greeted. Mina stayed quiet, swirling her coffee around in her cup. “Did you order something yet? It’s on us.” “No it’s okay- I already had plenty of coffee this morning. My five month old is in a growth spurt so she isn’t sleeping much so my roommate and I have both consumed like three cups of coffee in the past few hours.” Sana explained.

“Okay then.” Nayeon nodded, Mina staying quiet and drinking her coffee. Sana couldn’t help but notice her fist were curled in, a habit Mina had when she was nervous. “Um… Where to start?” “About Saki.” Mina reminded, taking another sip of her drink. “Oh yeah- about Saki.” Sana couldn’t help herself from tensing up. “She um- she has really liked you being her teacher. I don’t think she’s really figured anything out yet, but her and the others ids have been asking about thier birth mom a lot lately. We have been avoiding their questions, but maybe-maybe that’s bad for them.” “We just- it might be a good idea to introduce you into their lives. We’ve talked about it, and we’re worried that girls might come to hate us if we keep you from them their entire lives. I know we messed up, and that you probably want nothing to do with us. But maybe it shouldn’t be about us anymore.” Mina added. Sana couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “I- what? What changed now?” “Nothing really changed, we just. We messed up. We’re admitting it, and we’re hoping to correct ourselves. If you will let us. You don’t have to forgive us, but maybe consider meeting them? Not as a teacher, as their birth mother.” Nayeon answered. “We have hated this too, and we realized keeping you away from them is just making this worse for everyone. The least we can do is let you meet your daughters as their birth mom. If you want.” “Mina, I would love that.” Tears came to Sana’s eyes. “Yeah?” “Yes.” Sana nodded, wiping her tears with one hand. “Sorry, I cry so easily now. Guess that’s what happens when you have five kids. But uh yes, yes I would love to meet them as their birth mom. On one condition, they are allowed to meet Nico too. If I get to know them, their half-sister does too.” “Yeah, that’s-that makes sense.” Nayeon nodded. “We are sorry for how everything turned out. We will do our best to make this all right if you would let us.” “I would love that.” Sana smiled. “Thank you so much.” “No-thank you. I can only say I’m so sorry for all we’ve put you through.” “It’s okay.” Sana took one of Mina’s tense fists and unfurled it. “Let’s make this better, together.”

“I would like that.”

#twice #surrogate au #3na #minatozaki sana #myoui mina #im nayeon #saki #park jihyo #nico

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headcanontheshitoutofsoulsborne · 3 years

Text

Sekiro Chain 1

Original prompt: Kuro teaches Wolf how to play Shogi. Mun's note: I love how this chain turned out. Everyone did such an amazing job. Please show your apprecation for the characters by checking out their work and consider giving this chain a reblog.

@ghoulsteak

In Kuro’s tower, the summer air is warm and still. The sliding doors stand open to let what breeze there is pass through unimpeded. Sun streams in through the western door, painting a bright square across the tatami. Motes of dust spiral in the light.

Kuro can see Wolf from where he sits reading, a dim figure with only a foot caught in the sun, seated with his back to the opposite wall. It’s easy to forget he’s there, both because Wolf has been present in the corner of Kuro’s eye for a long time now and because being forgettable is a trait the shinobi has carefully cultivated.

He stands now and pads silently across the floor. Time for another inspection, Kuro supposes; another circuit around the tower’s perimeter (cliff side included), another quiet pass among the sun-streaked piles of books in the upper room. Wolf is always conscientious in his checking and rechecking, but today he seems to be wound even tighter than usual. On a day as beautiful as this one, that strikes Kuro as something of a shame.

As Wolf steps back inside from his patrol, Kuro sets down his book. “Wolf,” he calls. The shinobi’s head turns. “Would you like to play shogi with me?”

“I do not know how, my lord.”

“That’s no matter. I can teach you,” Kuro says.

Kuro himself learned from Owl. The old man taught him the game years ago while he lingered at the castle. He kept to himself whether was simply resting between outings or sniffing around amongst the servants and courtiers. Kuro has beaten him only once, and he suspects that the old man threw that game. He is as difficult for Kuro to read as his son is easy.

But still, he offers Wolf the same reason for learning as the Owl gave him. “They say shogi is good for the mind. It helps one practice strategy.” He knows Wolf struggles to justify doing things that don’t reap tangible results. The shinobi’s chief leisure activity, insofar as he can be said to have one, is sleeping. Wolf inclines his head in agreement.

Wolf seats himself across the table, and Kuro begins setting up the board. He explains the rules of the game to him; they’re a lot to take in, but he knows Wolf prides himself on only having to be told something once, and thus does not repeat himself. He listens in silence, nodding from time to time or interjecting with a murmured question, and they begin to play.

A minute and a half passes. Wolf loses.

“Hrm,” he says, brow furrowed. Kuro hides a smile with his sleeve.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to take it easy on you, Wolf,” he says.

A slight shake of the head. “Of course.”

“Again?”

“As you wish, my lord.”

Kuro offers him no advice. He doesn’t want to teach Wolf to play like him; even after three years’ worth of rainy days spent at the board, he suspects his own style is still too much like the Owl’s. He wants to see how Wolf plays shogi.

As they begin again, he watches the shinobi’s expression. Between turns, his gaze darts about the room, quicksilver eyes beneath a stone brow. His attention is divided a dozen different ways. This, rather than his inexperience, is why Kuro beats him again.

“Again?”

“Certainly.”

Perhaps, Kuro thinks, he should ask him to play next in a room with shuttered windows and a single, easily barred door. He can see the roots of Wolf’s technique, the shape of his quick, guarded mind beginning to describe itself upon the board, but he won’t let himself become immersed in the game. Wolf can’t let go of his awareness of the tower’s points of entry and escape, of the distance between the palm of his hand and the hilt of his sword.

Kuro begins to push Wolf’s slow offense back, intending to corner him on his own side of the board. Confident in his advance, he overreaches. Wolf capitalises on the chink revealed in his armour and cuts behind Kuro’s lines. As he finishes his move, he glances up at Kuro.

“Hah!” Kuro sits back in surprise, eyes alight. A hint of a smile runs along the furrows of Wolf’s face, and is gone just as quickly.

“I apologise, Wolf,” he says. “I underestimated you.”

Wolf inclines his head. “It is no matter.”

As the game continues to its close and the game after it begins, Kuro watches Wolf’s hold on his vigilance relax a little more. Perhaps there’s something comforting to him after all about a battle with no stakes, an enemy who wants nothing more than to pass a summer afternoon.

@dragonbasket

@fateoftheundead

“Are you ready, Wolf?”

Sekiro nodded and knelt before the low table across from the young lord, who busied himself shuffling a stack of papers. Kuro’s movements were not that of a studious priest, or a graceful shinobi, but guileless and clumsy like the youth he was.

“Why is this necessary for my mission?”

“Your sentiments are pure and honorable, but the pursuit of knowledge and understanding is just as pure, just as honorable.”

“As you insist. I do not know exactly what it is I do not know.”

***

The Wolf turned his head back and forth, flustered as he had ever been and rarely showed. “As I told the Heir, I do not know what it is I do not know. I… have heard that that is a good place to start. To start knowing.” A snort emerged from the background, amidst the wooden idols.

Emma, the mild doctor, approached, frowning in the direction of the snort. “That is true. Do not be so hard on yourself.” She took a seat. “Please continue.”

Sekiro handed the stack of Kuro’s scrolls to the man seated on the ground, who blinked with wide open eyes at the documents. Fujioka gave the smile of a man retreating from a tiger. “So whaddya need me for, anyway?”

“My letters are insufficient. You are the right choice, despite your grumbling.”

“Fine, fine, some compliment.” Spreading the papers out, he bent his head to the scroll he had selected. “So… I have heard it said, oh monks, that… hmm, I dunno that’s the best way to begin. You’ve got far more wisdom than you know, Wolf, but these doctrineses may be too big a breakfast. Tell me- what scriptures did you learn as a child?”

Sekiro sighed. “I remember very little from before I was orphaned, and once the Owl had adopted me I had very little time for scriptures or doctrines.”

Another scoffing laugh came, and this time it’s owner came closer. The Sculptor rose creakily and made his way over as well, though much less gracefully than the doctor.

“Ahh, these old bones need a stretch anyway. The Owl? Ukonzaemon Usui? One slip of the pen and he would have been a cloud-and-water man. Bah, you’re more a cloud-and-water man than the old fool ever could have been.” He bowed deeply to Fujioka, his wooden left arm almost scraping the floor. “Forgive me, scroll jumbler. Forgive me, Wolf. Please continue.”

“I suppose that I know as much as anyone. Gate gate pāragate pārasaṃgate bodhi svāhā?”

Seeing the lost look on his face, the others in the room repeated the simple sutra. “You all know it. I’m gald I knew it as well. Perhaps this is not the correct interpretation, but it has always struck me... gone, gone, everyone gone... What does it mean to be shinobi? If we become one with the shadows, then do we exist at all?”

Fujioka beamed. “Oh, that’s wisdom alright, Wolf! As direct as the 6th Patriarch’s famous verse, and maybe as good.” He looked around sheepishly. “What? I know stuff.”

“Do you know who else had something to say about the Heart of Wisdom?” The Sculptor’s grimace was unreadable. Emma turned to him, but cut him only with the gaze of her eyes. “Master Hakuin! Do you know what he said about our beautiful Heart? Scripture scrolls dug from piles of garbage!”

“Garbage?” Emma’s face at last betrayed a hint of anger.

“Easy, sweet doctor. I mean no offense. We may pare our nails at the foot of a burning lamp, we may polish a brick into a mirror, but these base things are not bad. Simply a glimpse of truth. These,” he said, flinging a gnarled finger past the Heir’s donated stack of scrolls. “are wonderful in their own way, but for a man of my inclinations, I prefer the schematics our Wolf brings back. To build wondrous things!”

“Not from piles of garbage.” Sekiro’s face grew dark as he thought back to where he had found many such scrolls and the like that he’d found, in pockets and pouches, in dark corners used as hiding places, and he thought of the secrets he’d found as well, the deep crimson secrets that lay at the heart of men. And monsters.

“Of course, Wolf. Now, of all the treasures you bring back to our little ryokan... I prefer the sake best.”

“Sake!” Fujioka theatrically covered his face, mimicking the voice of a mortified grandmother. “In the midst of our scripture study! Would that not violate the Fifth Precept?”

“Indeed, indeed, sir, but there is one sin that the Tathagatha held more grave than any violation of the precepts.”

“What is this sin, Sculptor?” Emma’s face had lost all anger and she seemed genuinely curious.

“The disruption of the Sangha! Chaos amongst friends and disciples! Vituperation!” He grinned. “I am an old man. I get cranky when I do not get my sake. And when I get cranky...”

“The next time I find any sake, I will bring it right back. For the Sangha, that is.”

“Make sure you do. My friends, is anyone else cold? Without a little something to warm my belly, I feel every draft.” Without waiting for a response he walked over to the hearth where a few embers struggled to produce rarefied strands of flame. “We’re out of firewood.”

The others ignored him and Fujioka produced another scroll from the pile. “The Hekiganroku... some of these things the Heir sent us are quite advanced. Don’t get me wrong, I find a quality koan to be pleasing on its own merits, but the solution of these... beyond me.” The information broker squinted down at another scroll. “Oooh, ooh. The Heir left a little note in the margin. ‘Master Dogen’s commentary is superb.’ Aha! Dogen.” Fujioka became suddenly excited and turned his squint towards Emma. “Waittaminute...”

“I was indeed apprenticed to Dogen.” A faint smile. “Not the original Dogen. He was centuries ago. How old do you think I am?”

Before the broker could reply, Sekiro piped up. “Doctor, you don’t look a day over 200.” She rewarded him with a widening smile at the quip. She rubbed her hands together.

“It is cold. My Master Dogen would sometimes pretend to be a Zen master and jump out of corners to frighten me. He made a crude kesa out of bandages and covered his hair with a sack to seem bald.” She paused in thought. “I am not sure why.”

“Students must sometimes go along with their master’s teaching, I am sure.” Sekiro nodded.

Fujioka continued. “No offense, Wolf, but I got something here from the Hekiganroku that reminded me of you, and our dear ol’ sculptor. Case 54...” He recited the koan and put the scroll down.

“Yunmen Extends His Hands. I see. But I have only one hand.”

“Between the two of us we have two, Wolf,” called the Sculptor from the background, still puttering noisily among the idols. “Yunmen would slap us well if that were the case.”

Sekiro stood momentarily from where he’d crouched across from Fujioka and stretched his back before sitting again. “I recall some dharma if you forgive my rough understanding.”

“Of course!” The broker smiled in anticipation despite himself.

“Yunmen’s koan reminded me of another great master fond of hitting his disciples. Rinzai! What a fearsome teacher. There are tales that I have heard of his striking pupils to teach a lesson, but his most impressive act was worthy of a shinobi. In the meditation hall, during the most serene meditation, he would appear out of nowhere beside any monks whose minds were wandering, and beat them with a stick!”

“That stick is called the kyosaku and the monks must raise their hands and ask to be struck. It is an efficacious remedy for a sluggish mind.” Emma nodded to Sekiro as she rose as well. “I think I prefer your version, though.” “Aha! A fine Buddha indeed.” The Sculptor appeared with one of his wooden idols, one of surpassing craftsmanship. Without any hesitation he flung the idol onto the fire. The others reacted with a combination of horror and disbelief that led into a general clamor. Sekiro himself adopted a blank expression, as there was certainly a finer point to this act that he did not understand. “Protest all you like, it’s only a statue.”

“Of the Tathagatha. Such shame you bring with your recklessness,” seethed Emma. The sculptor scoffed.

Having recovered from his initial shock, Fujioka looked into the Sculptor’s eyes. “This is something I heard about once. That old pervert Ikkyu once did the same. But...”

“A common error, sir. Not Ikkyu, but Tanka.” He turned to Emma. “Do you mean to say that I burned the Buddha himself? Some relic of the Shaka Nyorai?”

“No, it is simply a wooden statue, but-”

“Simply wood,” he interrupted. “Then you do not mind if I burn another as the night grows colder?”

No one spoke for a long moment.

Fujioka broke the silence. “Ya think maybe we studied enough for the young master? I’d like to know for next time... I mean, if there is a next time... who are the masters you’d wanna hear more from?”

“Let us decide which sage would win in a battle, then!” The Sculptor’s face creased with amusement. “Wolf, who do you think?”

“Rinzai, of course. His stealth and fearsome strikes would take the day.” He turned to Emma. “What would you say, doctor?”

“Eno, the patriarch. His touch could make even the most ephemeral things as immovable as mountains. They say in a distant temple he sits mummified, unmoving but still meditating. True strength.”

“I dunno if the Heir thinks this is appropriate. Says here the Buddha himself specified that this subject is not suitable for the path to enlightenment.” He leaned forward with a sly whisper. “I would be like Dorin. Simple, happy teachings, and could spring through the trees like a monkey. Or a shinobi.”

“My turn,” said the Sculptor. “I am sure of my preference for the toughest master. Eka, Damo’s disciple. A great general before that, a fearsome warrior. To prove his devotion to becoming a student of Damo, he cut off his own arm and presented it to the patriarch, and became a great teacher in his own right. Invincible.”

Sekiro’s intuition prickled at him. He tensed, sensing something akin to danger, but...

The sculptor removed his wooden arm and held it aloft. “Wolf, I’ve seen how well you adapted to my previous arm. Such clever uses of the humble mechanisms I installed. But this thing? What use is it? I carved one arm with the other arm. Eka did not even replace his. So perhaps...” He shivered. “Is it cold in here?”

The sculptor tossed his wooden arm onto the fire.

There was no outcry from the others. Only a shocked silence. The sculptor rubbed the bare spot where his shoulder terminated. “Now, Wolf, about that sake...”

A slight smile. “For the Sangha?”

“For the Sangha.” Another uncomfortable pause, then the Sculptor let loose with a cackle.

In the warmth and light of the fire, the others joined him in laughter as the arm lit the room with its flames. @thefatladysang

@poisonhemloc

The old route to Senpou Temple started in the silvergrass field. Genichiro had never been to the temple, but there was a first time for everything. He needed the Mortal Blade, now, that was held there. The crimson one. The black one was further but much easier to get to, and relatively unguarded- but he didn’t want to risk the black one, the one that would kill Grandfather if he used it too much. Grandfather staying alive was the only reason the Interior Ministry hadn’t fully attacked Ashina. And he didn’t dare hasten the illness’s work before he had the Dragon’s Heritage, true immortality, not the Sediment’s poor version. With the Dragon’s Heritage he could stand up to the Interior Ministry, and win.

Grandfather had obviously thought the Sediment was making him unstable, when he stopped to tell him where he was going. A little part of Genichiro still wondered why he had even taken the time to do that. And wondered why he had come out here, where he had lost against the shinobi for the first time by a hair’s breadth, when the more reliable route to Senpou now ran through the dungeons. He turned to leave-

-and a strange depression in the grass caught his eye.

There was an arm. There was the shinobi’s arm, laying here unrotting. It had been a month, something should have at least tried chewing on it, but it looked as though he had just cut it off.

Some part of him knew why. He waited for the knowledge to work its way to the front of his mind through hazes of red.

The Dragon’s Heritage. The same as Tomoe. And Genichiro remembered a spar between Grandfather and Tomoe, when he was younger, before Takeru had died and Kuro had been born.

Neither of them were trying to be careful, but Isshin was always better at swordplay than Tomoe; xe had shined with archery instead, and taught Genichiro. And Isshin had cut off Tomoe’s right arm, with the same lunge Genichiro had used for the shinobi. And had given Genichiro a look, as Tomoe collapsed, and held the arm next to the stump, and when Tomoe revived it had reattached. And it had been like Isshin had never cut it off.

It must have been due to the Dragon’s Heritage. And now…

The prosthetic Dogen had spent days, months, working on, had been given to the shinobi. Every shinobi trick conceivable could fit in it. It would be better, smarter, to leave this somewhere the man would find it, and have him reattach it and lose the prosthetic and the advantage it gave.

But the rational train of thought was being drowned out by the louder, much more insistent voice that had listened to Orangutan complain, sometimes loudly, every time he was at the castle, about the arm he had lost continuing to hurt. And several soldiers, and samurai, who had also lost limbs and complained about the same thing. He shouldn’t delay any longer though, he needed to be moving. Genichiro grabbed the arm and left for the dungeons.

There was a brazier not far from the entrance, next to the cave Doujun had been reduced to using. Genichiro knocked it over and dropped the arm on top of the coals, watched it smoulder, and then catch when he dumped fabric- Doujun probably brought it over to tend to the stab wounds but they were fine, the Sediment was healing everything- and watched as the arm caught and blazed. He had a lot of things he needed to do but… he could wait, for a few minutes, ignoring Doujun grumbling as he retreated to the little cave and watch the armor distort and melt and the arm reduce to blackened bones before he turned and left for Senpou.

Isshin watched the shinobi nod politely, and stand. He would be after the Crimson Mortal Blade, now, like Genichiro was. He half turned- and tensed up, and grimaced, just for a second, but Isshin saw it. The prosthetic definitely twitched, and his good arm looked like he was going to grab at it for a moment, before he went back to the blank face he always wore.

“Something wrong, Sekiro?” Another little hint of emotion, he did not like that Isshin had seen that and commented on it. Now, would he lie, or admit to it? And which would make that shadow in his eyes worse?

“...Just for a second, my… injury, hurt. More than it has. I… believe I need to talk to Lady Emma.”

“Go then! Emma knows what to do with severed limbs.” Isshin watched him leave, not using the prosthetic’s grappling hook like he had to get here. Not using the prosthetic at all, actually. He would have to ask Emma what had happened. He had not painstakingly arranged for this man to get to Kuro and helped him hone his talent for killing just for his arm to twinge a little and have him give everything up.

Wolf had opened the library window Kuro hadn’t been able to budge as soon as he was back, and talked to Kuro, and now was approaching Emma. He looked tenser than he had, had Isshin given him bad news? And he hesitated for a moment, before seemingly resigning himself.

“Something… happened, to the injury.” Emma fought to keep the shock off her face, Wolf was asking for medical help beyond the gourd? When she went to check in with Isshin would she find him cured, talking to a normal, sane Genichiro?

“Okay. We need to take the prosthetic off anyway, I need to check the bandages. What happened?” Wolf had been keeping his voice quiet; Kuro hopefully was too engrossed in reading to notice, and Emma stayed quiet as well.

“It felt like I touched metal held in a fire, with the cut part of my arm.” Emma frowned, helping him remove the prosthetic and the remainder of the kote, not touching the scarf he was overly protective of. Pain from the missing limb, that happened a lot, and he had said it felt like burning. And pain in the remaining limb, from being cut. Burning in the remaining limb was not normal.

Wolf tensed up when she started unwrapping bandages, too, but that was normal for him. There were clean bandages up here, at least, Emma didn’t want to reuse what she was unwrapping. She should have changed everything when he woke up, but there was no way he would have trusted her enough to let her. Nevermind that she had bandaged the arm in the first place and been changing it while he’d been unconscious, and worried that it never looked like it was healing, just not bleeding as much.

Now it did, it looked… like he had said, like someone had cauterized it. Which was normally what Emma would have done anyway, except the Dragon’s Heritage should have healed it completely.

“You were just talking with Isshin?”

“Yes.”

“...Well, it cauterized itself. I don’t know why. It’s still going to hurt- it might hurt more, for a while. I need you to stay here for a few hours, at least, in case something else happens.”

“I cannot. I have Lord Kuro’s orders to fulfil.” Like he hadn’t asked Emma to check his arm. “I will-”

“Not leave until tomorrow at earliest.” Loud enough Kuro heard, hopefully. “Give your arm some chance to heal, since it’s finally started to.” She ignored the dirty look that flashed across his face for a moment as she placed new bandages and helped replace the remains of the left kote that the prosthetic tied onto.

Kuro walked to the front of the library as Wolf pushed Emma’s hands away and finished tying on the prosthetic himself.

“Wolf, please, if you are in pain the ingredients can wait.” Kuro was frowning, one of his hands was fidgeting with the book he still held. “And you did just duel Genichiro. Everything can wait til tomorrow morning, Wolf.” Kuro was probably too far away to hear a bitten back sigh.

“Of course, my lord.”

Emma had her own quarters at night, and Kuro had blankets in this room and had insisted on giving Wolf one of them; he had insisted on giving Wolf several of them, actually, and it had taken a few minutes of careful discussion before Wolf convinced him not to, but he wouldn’t be budged on Wolf having at least one and continuing to refuse was inviting him to order Wolf to accept more. How much Kuro seemed to care for Wolf- Wolf, who had failed at Hirata, who had spent too long trying to find Kuro and get to Ashina, and then failed again immediately- was. Strange. It must have been because Wolf was the only person left from Hirata, this was not how masters treated their servants. At least Wolf would stay awake if he was here, stay on guard.

And he failed at that, too, jerking awake in the middle of the night, biting his tongue to stop a yell like he had with Isshin, feeling like his missing arm had been crushed. It was still gone. The pain persisted for a few minutes, before fading back to the burning pain he had been trying to tune out. Emma was not being told about this, if she came before he left in the morning; Wolf had a duty to his lord, and he did not want to be delayed again because she thought he couldn’t work through pain.

Genichiro, angrier already than he had been, stomped back down the passageway, snapping at the soldiers he had ordered to keep watch down here to pay attention. Senpou was a waste. The monks were easy enough to kill, not one of them could block a swing from him, but every bridge to the monastery was broken. What was he supposed to do, scale Mt Kongo itself just to get to the main hall?

So the black blade would have to do. Open Gate. The weaker of the blades, sure, but it was enough. It was closer too, easier to get to; why had he even bothered with Senpou Temple? He should have gone straight for it. Yes, Grandfather thought it was tied to his life, but no one really knew, just some shrine maiden twenty years ago wrote a lot of stuff on a scroll to justify keeping the sword. It was all speculation. And it was just in a shrine halfway to Hirata and north. And Dragon’s Heritage or not, it would kill the shinobi for good and Kuro wouldn’t have a choice, and with enough of the generals sharing immortality they would drive off the Interior Ministry.

...Here was the remains of the fire where he’d burned the arm. The bones looked blackened, but still recognizable. Genichiro stamped on them as he passed, splintering them into pieces, and continued out of the dungeons, back out of the castle, before it was light.

#sekiro shadows die twice #fanfiction #fanart #sekiro chain 1

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hyrule-kingdom-updates · 4 years

Text

Oh Goddess Hylia, hear my prayer. As humble as vessels may come, I open my true self up to you, so that you may bless me with your presence. From the ancient skies, to the timeless seas, to the immemorial twilight, let the path I walk not stray from your victory. May your smile be a reflection of mine own on these waters.

…

Please.

…

...A thus starts the hour of connection.

…

I’m supposed to be you, am I not? So, if I were you, which I am as we just established, I would...speak, a bit more. A yes or no answer will do.

…

Ok, not a “yes or no,” an explanation would be appreciated as well.

…

...Your Grace.

…

Sorry, even after all this time, I don’t know what to call you. Or...me. Or..anything.

My father says just “Goddess” will do, or “Your Grace,” but...well, I don’t know. It feels weird. For one, wherever people say “Your Grace,” I associate it with...people. There’s a face behind it. There’s a person with a face, with an expression that I can associate with “grace.” “Hello there, you are gracing me with your presence”

…

Now, saying “Goddess” is a different story, because...it’s very authoritative, you know? A god, a divine being. I’m supposed to be asking a divine, ancient goddess to help a sixteen year old save the world. How absurd does that sound...why should I have to ask you in the first place? Who would think of using a child to ask someone so powerful for something?

Or...ask *me,* I suppose.

…

I don’t feel very authoritative.

…

But, I respect my father, I love my father. I’ve trusted his word for so long. Hoping...praying...that it would be enough.

…

There was this one time, where I was sitting in my room, I believe I was playing with Terrako at the time. Mr. Astor would come in, compliment the new features. Impa would pop her head inside, and stick out her tongue at Terrako in spite.

Then my father, he would come inside, see what I was doing, and say nothing. Say nothing and shake his head.

…

One day, I needed a new spring, and Zavis wasn’t around. He is usually the one that finds me things. So, I decided to take the risk that day. I said, “Father? Could you ask if anyone has a small spring?”

He just raised an eyebrow. “And what do you intend to do with it?”

I answered honestly, “Play with Terrako!” And...he just walked away.

That night, I tended to Terrako as best I could. But he was still a bit broken. But I managed.

However, that night, when I snuck back into my little room, what did I find, but springs. Not just one, or two, but several. A whole pile of them sitting on my bed.

There was a note there, saying something like, “I wasn’t sure which one you needed.”

And that night, I smiled to myself as I fixed up Terrako.

…

That’s a nice story, right?

…

It’s not real.

…

That’s a story I wish I had. I wish I had more stories...more...somethings, to justify everything. Like in fairy tales. Some grand gesture that explains it all, that “despite everything, there’s hope, there’s love.”

But I don’t have that. I’m not living in a fairy tale, am I?

Otherwise, you would've given me my powers from the first time I cried.

Years ago…

…

That’s not to say that my father doesn’t love me. I know he does, I know he is doing this for the greater good. Yet...I’ve never seen it. I’ve never seen the action, the walk that goes being tradition and duty. He’s always stayed in his place.

I like to think that the day I can tell a little story about my father—about the truth that deep down, he cares so, so much—that the day where I get a little pile of springs on my bed, that’s when it will all be worth it.

But I know that’s not true.

…

I’m not saying the grand gesture is impossible, mind you. I’m just saying...it will never be worth it.

I don't care about “deep down” anymore. I don’t care about the subtleties and the cowardice. I just want to see something now. Something consistent, something truly, truly there. One gesture isn’t enough…

…

Goddess, why won’t you grant me my power?

…

I used to sneak into the library with my mother. I don’t remember her face, but I remember the smell. The touch of her silky dress. We would sit on this big sofa and read about legends of old. Princesses with rapiers, heroes with wolves, epic quests for magical items.

I think this would have been a lot easier if you had just left me a magical bow or something to find, no?

…

But it’s not just legend, of course. It’s history. It’s fact. Every princess, every vessel before me has fulfilled their purpose. They have all managed to unlock their divine power. They have saved their people, their friends, their loved ones.

And now the time has come for me to continue this cycle. For me to take on this torch. For me to light the way.

Yet I have no idea where I am.

…

I’ve been left in the dark, you understand? I’ve been told all my life that prayer would awaken my power to seal Ganon away.

Everyone else fulfills their duties with such grace.

Why am I the only one who cannot live up to her own potential?

What am I missing? What have I forgotten?

I’ve spent everyday of my life dedicated to praying!

I’ve pleaded to every spirit tied to the ancient gods!

Yet still...everything is silent.

…

It’s not even the nice type of silence.

…

You know he didn’t even want his destiny! He avoided it for years because it would ruin his family. Yet he still takes up his role with ease.

I want this! I want this so badly! I want to save everyone! What am I lacking?! What else do I need to do!?

…

Will you just stand by? Make me wait in this stupid puddle, hoping that you “caring deep down” will be enough? Is that it?

…

...

I know this is probably why you hate me. I know this is a problem when it comes to me. I can’t let this stuff go. I hold grudges. I let things fester. But I can’t help it! At least when things get shitty, it’s consistent! There’s a pattern!

…

It’s like science. There’s rules. There’s tangible things you can see and hold. There’s pattern. There’s predictability.

…

But who am I kidding. I can’t even fix up my own damn Guardian that I made myself. It would be foolish to try and replace the Ancient Powers with gizmos and gadgets, huh?

…

You give awful advice, you know that?

…

I have this friend. Heh. You probably don’t like him very much, and I wouldn’t blame you. But I have this friend, and he once gave me this line of logic. It’s similar to a process of elimination. You find what’s good, and what’s bad. Then you just move as far away from the broken and bad things, and then maybe one day, you’ll find the answer. You swim and swim and swim, and use that rock of bad stuff as your guide of where not to go. Then you swim and find the answer somewhere, because of course, the answer has to be out there, right?

…

But there’s a flaw with his idea, that I realize now. Something that he was probably aware of, but neglected to tell me. Maybe to make me feel better, or maybe because he was denying it himself.

It’s so much easier to latch on to the rock.

It’s so much easier to not swim at all.

To just sit there, forever.

...

Especially when you’re so tired.

…

Do you get tired, Goddess Hylia?

Perhaps you’re tired of me, always talking to you?

…

I’m tired.

…

Perhaps that’s strange, and pitiable, for a goddess like you. For someone to tire. Perhaps you pity me, perhaps you’re planning your grand gesture of appreciation in order to comfort me and my poor, tired state.

But I love it.

I love that I’m tired.

I love that, after all this time, I can tell you how tired I am.

How tired I am of being in this stupid dress.

How tired I am, of waiting for my father’s love.

How tired I am, of looking at all my flaws in shame.

How tired I am, of comparison, of tradition, of praying.

How tired I am of waiting for some springs on my bed…

…

I’ve swam for so long, Goddess Hylia.

I’ve been in these waters for so many hours, I can’t even feel my toes.

But I’m going to keep going.

I’m going to keep going without you.

I’ve been so focused on finding the answer in these waters that I’ve never even bothered to check the sky.

You see there was this nickname my mother gave me…

…

Your stone statue looks down on me. So large, with beautiful wings.

But I’m going to leave you in these waters now.

…

I’ll do this without you, if I must. I don’t care anymore.

…

WELL?! ANYTHING TO SAY?!

…

...

...Curse you, Goddess Hylia.

I hope you’re frowning when you watch me fly.

#Princess Zelda Mallory Hyrule #It's gotta be somewhere in the sea #hku spoilers

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