#ship: masks & menace

[flatstarcarcosa]

Need @futurewife to post more lore for shipping w l*ki because I'm obsessed with the concept of me inviting her to the oscorp Christmas party one year and telling her to bring her man, not knowing who said man is, and norman looking up to find l*ki in his fucking house.

Which is bad enough for him but oops @dadbodsandbots and Bob are also there.

[earlgreydream]

SAVIOR. | Kylo Ren x reader

Some enemies to lovers(?) on Mustafar, for my love, @little-diable

for @little-diable's 15k celebration ... Kylo Ren, Smut, Page 66 ..... „The air felt hot and dusty.” From The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires

cw: dubcon

Mustafar.

You were naive to think you could escape.

The air felt hot and dusty, choking you as you ran through burning trees. It felt like every nightmare you’d ever had — the ones you couldn’t wake up from, knowing you were prey with nowhere to run. Your heart slammed in your chest, pulse echoing in your ears as your wild eyes darted around, desperately searching for an escape.

Limbs of trees reached out to scratch you as you ran through the forest fire, everything a haze of red. Desperation to outrun those who scorched the planet made you fearful, knowing there was no real escape.

“You’ve got nowhere to run, rebel.”

The words echoed in your mind, not spoken aloud, but directly to you, through a divine power. Invisible hands halted your attempt to escape, slamming your body into the ground.

Kylo Ren watched you fight to breathe as you inhaled the dust, unable to escape the grasp of his force. He towered over you, face-to-face for the first time since Coruscant, when you were still undercover as a member of the First Order.

“Don't do this, Ren,” you hissed, staring up at the supreme leader, who had burnt down the planet and everything in it just to catch you.

“You’ll be made an example to anyone who dares to defy me,” Kylo swore, the hot blade of his lightsaber singing just inches from your throat.

Your chest heaved, wild eyes watching Kylo, waiting for his red fire to cut through you. The summer heat filled you with dread, watching Kylo stand over you with hate in his eyes.

Coruscant.

Things were different, then. What transpired only months ago seemed to be an entirely different life, lived by someone else. In a sense, it was.

Coruscant was the mission you never wanted. When you’d dedicated your life to the resistance, you didn’t anticipate being sent undercover to infiltrate the First Order. You wore the mask of an enemy, blending in and becoming someone else until you forgot who you were entirely.

The objective was simple: move your way up in the First Order, and gain the trust of Kylo Ren. Your mission was to gather intel to feed back to the resistance; when your commanders had assigned it, they pictured you sitting in meetings, taking notes on the outskirts of Kylo’s militia. At the time, the Jedi order thought they could trust you, and you thought you could trust them. Before Coruscant, you had no idea of the power you possessed, the power the rebellion kept a secret from you.

When Kylo Ren first laid eyes on you, the plan crumbled to dust. The moment you stepped into the throne room, you could feel it — the pull of the force pricking the edges. Kylo felt it too, your heart beating in sync as he failed to pry into your mind like he did with every other being.

“Leave us.” The command to the knights was sharp, the room clearing until you were the only one standing before him.

“Where have you come from?” Kylo Ren had once seemed menacing on his throne, adorned in a crimson glow. Now, his expression was pure curiosity, gazing at you with startlingly disarming eyes.

“Naboo, master Ren,” the reverence came naturally, and you found yourself lowering to your knees at his throne.

“It is an honor to serve The First Order,” your voice sounded foreign on your lips, speaking words you never intended to say.

Kylo reached forward, tilting your chin up until he held your gaze, studying every detail of your unfamiliar face. He was captivated by you, your mystique raised curiosity, not alarm. Nothing happened on his ship that he didn’t know about, but you, a young soldier from Naboo was unexpected.

“You wield the force?” He questioned, puzzled by the inability to tear apart your thoughts.

“No, master.”

“But you can, padawan, you’ve just not been taught,” Kylo answered, having no knowledge of the crack he’d sent through your alliances.

The Jedi order would have recognized the great power you possessed, even as you didn’t recognize it in yourself. Your gifts had been kept a secret, but here was Kylo Ren, a man meant to be your enemy, offering truth and guidance you were deprived of. The resistance and its leaders had deceived you, a betrayal far deeper than a political alliance. They had kept you from destiny, fearing that the ability to wield the force would lead you into darkness, having no idea you would one day learn to harness your power from the ruler of the Empire.

“I can show you the ways of the force," Kylo’s voice was smooth, pulling you to his outstretched hand, an invitation to leave everything else behind and stand at his side.

You didn't recognize yourself in the reflection of Kylo's eyes. Instinctively, you took Kylo's outstretched hand, letting him pull you to your feet.

.

"You have had no teacher?" Kylo questioned, the two of you standing in an empty room in the Star Destroyer.

He looked so different out of his suit, more relaxed in simple training robes. Here, Kylo didn't seem to be the menacing overlord that you'd once saw. With you, he was different, an attentive and guiding master.

"No," you shook your head, confliction slowly eating away at you.

The more hours you spent learning from Kylo, the less you wanted betray him. Your alliance to the order you'd spent a lifetime fighting for was broken, and now you sought solace in him. Your allegiance to Kylo bloomed as your abilities grew, and the hard walls around him slowly came down, letting you in. Even as he opened up about who he was, you kept the secret of your origin, praying every night that he didn't have to find out.

Your lost soul found a home in Coruscant, lines blurring between you and Kylo as you spent intimate hours meditating and practicing. His hands that were once your waist to position your body, guided you until you found yourself pressed between Kylo’s strong body and his mattress. 

The first time Kylo took you to his bed, he was tender, attentive to your pleasure. As your addiction to him grew, so did the constant need for one another. You begged Kylo to fuck you with his hand around your throat, bending you over the closest surface because you couldn’t get enough. Every second with Kylo was sexually charged, craving him like a drug. He was your teacher, your solace, your lover, and your savior — before you knew it, Kylo became everything to you. 

Kylo Ren changed when you entered his existence. He had never experienced a love like you, constantly starving for your touch. 

In a year, everything fell apart. 

You’d long forgotten the Jedi, your allegiance, and your mission, until the day they invaded Coruscant. What you would never be able to forget was the betrayal on Kylo's face when they called you their commander. You could no longer run to your savior, nor to your fellow jedi, so you ran away, alone, to Mustafar.

.

Mustafar.

You wrists were held behind your back with imperial binders, and you were completely naked - save the collar that Kylo had clasped around your throat. You glared up at him from your kneeling position at his feet, chest heaving as you struggled against his force keeping you still at his mercy.

Part of you yearned to throw yourself at him, begging for forgiveness, explaining to him that you had abandoned the resistance to follow him. You ached to tell him that every night you spent in bed with Kylo made you fall more in love with him, that you'd rather perish than live without him another day, but the words died in your throat.

Your words would do no use anyways - Kylo had made up his mind to make an example out of you, to humiliate you before the entire First Order.

Your skin burned as you felt the eyes of his knights on your body as they filed into the room, taking their places around the table. You couldn't hide from them, your sins and entire self exposed to those you once ruled over.

"Our little rebel traitor is going to pay for her sins," Kylo's voice was ice cold, sending a shudder down your spine.

Instinctively, you leaned back into Kylo's legs, subconsciously searching for shelter. He grabbed the back of your neck in one of his large hands, hauling you to your feet, dark eyes blazing down at you, starvation and thirst clouding his judgement.

"Get on the fucking table, now," he growled, manhandling you onto the cold metal surface, your wrists above your head as you laid spread out.

"Since you'll sell yourself to the jedi and the empire, my knights can have you as well."

He sank back into his throne, draped lazily over the armrests, legs parted to reveal how hard he was just from the sight of your nude form dripping on the table.

You strained against the binders on your wrists, hating yourself for how wet you were just knowing Kylo was watching, the knights pulling your legs apart as one knelt between your legs.

You helplessly watched Kylo as Vicrul's hands wrapped around your soft thighs, his tongue warm and wet against your sex, pulling a pathetic whine from your lips. You hated him for it - hating him for making your hips raise, begging for more as he ate you out, sucking on your clit and pushing thick fingers inside of you. Your muscles contracted around you, other knights groping your body, playing with your nipples and gagging you with their fingers.

Meanwhile, Kylo watched, freeing himself from the black trousers that hugged his thick thighs. You watched as he stroked his cock to the sight of you, fighting not to come immediately from the filthy noises the knights pried from your parted lips.

You ached for him to fill you, your cunt throbbing with need, despite the overwhelming touch of the knights, ripping orgasms from you despite how hard you fought against it. Before you could stop yourself, you were crying out to him, calling his name as your back arched off the table, gasping for air.

Your ears were ringing, and all at once the knights retreated from you, exiled from the room by Kylo. He stood abruptly, dark robes falling from his shoulders, his strong body fully on display for you. You felt the binders release your wrists, and you pulled your limbs to your body, trembling on the cold table.

"I didn't betray you," you rasped, knowing Kylo could read your mind, prying through your thoughts and your memories, allowing him in.

He said nothing, approaching you slowly. Kylo grasped your jaw, holding your head up, forcing you to look him in the eye.

"You will never run from me again."

"Yes, master."

Kylo's lips were hot and heavy against yours, pulling you into his body, kissing you violently. He'd had every intention to take you back to his chambers, but the second you touched, he couldn't resist, climbing over you on the table in his throne room.

His hand hooked under your knee, pushing it to your shoulder, rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance. He ignored your whimpering pleas, taking his time, marking your throat with his lips. All the air left your lungs as he finally pushed inside you, much bigger than all of the knights who had violated you only moments before.

Your back arched as he split you open, pressing your chest to his, your hands pulling his thick black hair. He bottomed out, his hips pressed against your ass. Kylo hushed you, wrapping an arm around your torso before fucking you at a blistering pace. It was desperate and violent with need, tearing you apart for leaving him, and putting you back together all at once. You felt his velvety skin drag against your walls with every thrust, Kylo using the force to circle your clit so he could keep both hands on you.

His skin was slick with sweat, black hair sticking to his forehead as he moaned, biting your shoulder and burying his face in you, his thrusts stuttering as he filled you until cum was spilling out and smearing between your thighs.

"I'm not finished with you," he panted as you sank back into the surface, trying to catch your breath.

Kylo flipped you over so he was lying on his back, your knees on either side of his wide hips. You could barely hold yourself up, muscles shaking as you leaned over him.

"Kylo, I can't—"

"Ride me." He commanded, leaving no room for argument or protest.

He reached up and wrapped his hand around your throat, holding you up as you rolled your hips, feeling his cock twitch inside you, moving easily despite your trembling thighs.

"Look at me. Watch yourself take your master," Kylo's other hand lightly smacked your cheek, prompting you to open your eyes, holding his gaze for a long moment.

You wrapped your hands around his wrist for leverage, thankful his other hand was helping your hips, before obeying his wish. Your gaze fell, watching him disappear inside your body every time you sank down, feeling him set fire to every nerve ending in your body, your limbs screaming for release. Kylo held your weight, guiding you to finish until you collapsed on his chest, aftershocks shuddering through your weakened body.

"You'll have to earn back your place at my side," he tilted your chin up, dark eyes showing the slightest bit of mercy.

"I'll do anything," you breathed, chasing his mouth for a kiss.

"Start by getting on your knees."

[tojisun]

old mask ghost does things to me for real :(( he's so cunty it's annoying.

•°. *࿐

(he's also annoying in another ways—like breaking your heart, for example.

"this thing between us?" he asked, voice gentle as you two settled on your bed. the euphoria of your orgasm had filled you up with a certain sense of quiet elation, but you feel it slowly wilting into the heavy dregs of reality at his sudden prodding.

you hummed, not knowing where he was going with this.

you felt simon shrug, the warm drag of his palm over the slope of your back stuttering to a halt. this made you blink your eyes open, shifting enough to meet his gaze.

"what?"

he smiled. soft and charmingly cruel because—

"well, hope you remember that it's all physical, yeah?" he finally finished off, grinning like he did not just slam a hammer into your glass heart.

...oh.)

"fuck y'doin' here?" you ask, voice pinched in your exhaustion.

you feel too overstimulated—your jacket's falling off your shoulder, your pants are sliding off your hips, all the while the rain has drenched you. so really, all your clothes have no right to be grappling with your trembling body like this.

someone also blasted the damn heater in your apartment building.

who the fuck cranked it up that high? yeah, the rain's pouring but what the actual hel-

"oh, y'know," your menace of a friend-with-benefits says, shrugging. "missed you, s'all."

"oh, shut it," you snap, glaring up at him.

who even let him in?

all simon does is laugh, before shifting to grab some of the grocery bags you're carrying. thank god for that because if he didn't, you're a hundred percent sure you were going to fling the one with the jug of milk towards him, targeting his skull.

no bullet can kill this motherfucker but you and your jug of milk would sure be willing to try.

simon makes himself at home because of course he does. he's shameless like that. clearly no amount of distance would fix him; men used to come home changed after being shipped off-

"what're you murmurin' over there?" simon teases, his voice ricocheting from the small space of your kitchen.

you squeal, swivelling to stare up at him in your mortification. you rest your palm atop your chest, feeling it thudding against the webbings of your ribs, before feeling the full force of your stomach fluttering because he's so close.

god. you actually missed him.

the ridiculous mask is still on his face but he's at least removed those shades, giving you a view of his pretty, pretty eyes. they're crinkled in his smile, his cheeks pudging up from underneath his mask. despite all that, you note the way the skin around his eyes are gaunt, bagged with dark lines. exhaustion pulses from his very being and yet there he is, traversing the storm, just so he can settle in your apartment.

what was it again that he's running away from?

"c'mere," you finally say, a breathy mumble, and simon lets out a pleased little sigh as he crowds you with his bulk.

you lift a hand up, sliding your knuckles along the fraying material of his mask, before sliding your hand down to the base of his neck. the edges of his mask are curling slightly, a sign of its overuse, and you wonder how much has simon spent underneath this measly thing?

maybe he needs a new mask? where will you get one though? this man has such particular tastes-

"so? are you goin' to kiss me?"

your breath wavers, rasping into a quiet squeak, feeling your cheeks fill up with warmth. then, gently, almost tentatively, you pinch the edge of his mask, tugging it up.

he curls his hand around your wrist—something that you know must be grounding for him. his fingers twitch just slightly, tensed, and you wonder why he even gave you this privilege?

what pushed him to trust you so much?

the thoughts trickle into silence the moment the mask is lifted past simon's lips, resting just underneath his nose.

you're right, you think, giggling in your delight. he is smiling underneath that thing.

simon bends forward, forehead bumping against yours. the smell of old leather fills your senses, your nose twitching at the unfamiliar scent, before his chapped lips meet your own.

you will yourself not to think too much into this kiss—not to feel too much with this kiss—but it is futile.

after all, you have always been in love with him.

[mournings-stars]

Lute x Charlie’s Best Friend

from this request by @lixanjewel

i may need to make a part two cus i kinda love this little enemies to lovers flirtation-situation-ship

this is a fem reader but i’ll happily write anything else as well!! :)

A meeting in Heaven was never something you expected. And you certainly didn’t expect Charlie to ask you to come with her — sure, you’d known each other since you were kids, and sure, you were the first person to support her ideas before Vaggie, and sure, you did a lot of planning…

Maybe you did have a right to go with them—

“Of course you do!” Charlie snapped you out of your thoughts as she packed her suitcase, yours (a backpack) packed and in your hands as you waited for her while you, apparently, thought out loud. “We’re gonna have so much fun!” She was bouncing in place, shutting her suitcase before she turned to you. “And you are gonna be so proud of yourself when we show them this dream is real! I couldn’t have done this without you!” You gave her a small smile before Vaggie came in. “Either of you!”

The rest of the morning was spent saying goodbye, getting that one wall destroyed, and sending your friends off with the person who destroyed it before you entered the portal to Heaven.

After making it past the gates, meeting Saint Peter, Sera, and Emily, you were touring with Charlie while Vaggie stayed at the hotel, the trip seeming to be taking a toll on her. To put it simply, she was in an awful mood, looking like she was going to be sick.

“Look, look, look!” Charlie squealed, pointing at a very fluffy white animal as she grabbed your arm.

That was how your entire trip to the zoo went before you got lunch with Emily, who was the one showing you around. She got the two of you food and drinks and when you went to sit, you cautiously excused yourself to continue looking around while they talked.

You took your drink with you as you walked the promenade, taking in the environment. It made you wonder what it’d be like if things were different — if you were born in Heaven rather than Hell.

“Enjoying your visit?” You were startled out of your thoughts by a girl dressed in all grey. Even her blunt cut hair was a pale grey. You recognized the uniform as an exorcist’s, but you had half a mind to think you were jumping to conclusions without the horns and X over her eye to prove it, but her eyes were gold — and they look far too warm to be so menacing. “Lute,” she introduced before the silence became awkward, sticking her hand out.

“Pretty,�� was the first thing that came to your mind. She raised a very judgmental brow at you. “I meant your name… is pretty — well, actually, no, that’s not what I meant, but it is… pretty — like the instrument.” Her brow relaxed, and you sighed, feeling less like Charlie and her bundle of excited nerves and more like yourself and your internal bundle of excited nerves. You introduced yourself and took her hand, shaking with a smile. “I’m usually not so nervous,” you said.

“New environment,” she shrugged. “Why don’t we walk,” she suggested and brought her hand to your back to turn you in the direction you’d been going before she stopped you. “I thought only two of you were coming.”

“Charlie asked me to go with her for moral support.” Lute nodded along. “Childhood friends and all…”

“You’re Hell-born, then,” it was more of a statement than a question, but you nodded anyway. “Shame,” she muttered. “Maybe her little redemption idea could’ve actually worked with you.”

You paused. Surely, she was insulting you. “I should’ve realized,” you said, taking a second look at this angel. She wasn’t just a pretty girl wearing a uniform that resembled an exorcist uniform; it was an exorcist uniform and their LED light masks came with artificial horns. That meant if she knew about the reason for your visit, she was the one that was there during Charlie’s first meeting. And suddenly, the name, “Lute,” sounded very familiar from one of Charlie’s rants.

“I did introduce myself,” she said haughtily, “not that I expect a low-class demon to pick up context clues—“

“Oh, shut up,” you groaned. Her very pretty eyes, which looked like gold, now looked like… corn — or something — (it was the meanest thing you could think of), and her very pretty name, which sounded like music, now sounded like some kind of crime you would expect from an exorcist angel.

Lute laughed, taking pause for a moment before she did and nearly doubling over as she walked with you.

“Are you insane?” You asked with a sneer that made her laugh harder.

“No one’s ever told me to shut up like that.” She calmed herself down, snickering to herself. “Insane,” she laughed. “You must be, thinking you can speak to an angel like that.”

“Must be.”

And despite that, she kept walking with you. Neither of you knew where you were walking toward, but you kept walking anyway, her with her nose in the air and a pompous smile, and you looking anywhere but at her.

Finally, you broke the silence, “Were you following me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Orders.”

“Why me?”

“Orders,” she emphasized like you were stupid.

“I heard you,” you mocked her tone. “But why the orders to follow me?” Then a very snarky idea popped into your mind as you smirked at her. “Unless you just blindly follow orders like some little bitch on a leash—“

“Do you want to die?”

It was your turn to laugh, shrugging. “You couldn’t hurt me if you tried.”

That, she didn’t respond to. Instead, she rolled her eyes and looked away. “Adam wanted to know why you were actually here, seeing as the hearing only includes the princess and her…” She waved her hand dismissively, a look of disgust on her face.

“Partner?”

She shook her head, scoffing. “That relationship is vile.”

You scoffed the same. “Is that something that keeps people out of Heaven, too?” You asked curiously, thinking of the many sinners you knew who seemed nice enough. “Vile relationships like theirs?” Lute frowned at you, looking confused.

“Oh, right,” she said, like she knew something you didn’t, and laughed. “You think I mean because they’re both girls, but thats not it.”

“It’s not?” You raised a brow and took a very long sip of your drink.

“Of course not. They just disgust me.” You laughed ironically, seeing no other answer for her hatred. “I don’t care how they choose to live their lives,” she insisted.

“You don’t need to convince me. We all have our assumptions of what Heaven thinks of people like us. I’m sure some of the… what do you call them? Winners? Said the same things when they were alive.”

Lute looked very uncomfortable, crossing her arms over her chest and looking down at the floor. “No one who thinks like that would be allowed into Heaven.”

“Doubt it. Did you have orders to talk to me, too?” You moved on quickly, making her chew the inside of her cheek.

“Unfortunately.” She huffed. “You do a lot of the princess’ research, don’t you?” You hummed. “Interviews?”

“I don’t like talking to people—“

“Clearly—“

“—who don’t like talking to me.”

“I can tell.” Her uncomfortable expression dropped and she laughed under her breath. “I’m glad I won't have to see you in court later. I don’t know how I’d respond to your accusatory defense.”

“Good thing Charlie didn’t want to take my advice for this, then.”

And Lute stopped walking very abruptly. She gave you a very kind smile and said, “I enjoyed our chat. Thanks for your time.” She looked very pleased, like she made you admit something to help her case.

“You’re welcome for the information,” you said lamely. “Charlie will achieve what she wants, Lute,” you said as she began to walk away.

“Not without your help,” and when she said your name, you quickly turned away from her golden eyes staring you down and walked back to Charlie and Emily.

There was absolutely no way you were about to (extremely gayly) overthink what was barely a conversation with a girl you didn’t like because of one sentence that wasn’t even a compliment.

Absolutely not. No way. Not happening—

“What girl is it this time?” You nearly shrieked when you heard Charlie, having walked all the way back to her and Emily where they were laughing.

“Charlie told me you have a talent for falling in love,” Emily giggled with Charlie. “Did you meet someone?”

“Or are you just talking to yourself?” Charlie teased, laughing.

Of course, all you could think to say was, “shut up,” which made you think back to the not-conversation you had with Lute. “Don’t we have a hearing to prepare for, or something?!”

[feroluce]

Given that Belobog is so full of snow, I'm kinda sad we never get to see any snowmen anywhere. Like that would have made for such a cute bg decoration!

And I think it would be especially funny for Sampo to make them, not out of pure, innocent whimsy and joy, but like specifically to be a menace smzhnsjd

Like Gepard keeps finding little snowmen out around the frontlines. And normally he would just turn a blind eye to this like he does with other things (like the shitty amateur distillery no one thinks he knows about); war sucks, their own damn leader is trying to kill them and Gepard is treading water just trying to keep Cocolia from using his guards as cannon fodder. If his soldiers want to make some snowmen in their downtime, then they should be allowed that. God knows they've earned it.

BUT SOMEONE IS MAKING SNOWMEN THAT LOOK LIKE HIM, DAMMIT!!!

Gepard keeps finding them down the back alleys and more hidden parts of the frontlines! And they all have the same grumpy little face, with blue-painted rocks for eyes and sometimes even gold-colored bullet casings for hair! And he knows who it is the second he finds another little blue haired, green eyed snowman next to it! Fuckin' Koski is sneaking in here, and easily enough that he has the time to taunt him!

Gepard once found a little Snow Geppie with angry eyebrows and red roses stuck in its blushing cheeks that was handcuffed to a weapons rack, which was when he realized someone had pickpocketed his handcuffs. He punches the head clean off the little Snow Sampo nearby, only to discover that it is also holding his wallet, minus all the shield he'd had in it that morning. Gepard kicks it for good measure.

One time he found a little Snow Sampo offering roses to a little Snow Geppie, and he quickly knocked those over too before anyone else could see them or his red face. He swears he can feel Sampo snickering and mocking him nearby.

Sometimes, Gepard finds little Snow Sampos with tiny sacks thrown over their shoulders, all filled with items that are SUPPOSED to be in the depths of the guarded Silvermane storehouses. Sampo technically isn't even stealing anything, he's just showing Gepard that he could if he wanted to, and poor Gepard is going to pop an aneurysm.

Pela: Good morning, Captain. Have you been outside of your tent yet?

Gepard: No. ....Why.

Pela: No reason. Say, have you heard of any break ins recently?

Gepard: No, why.

And Pela holds open the tent flap and there's a ton of tiny little Silvermane Guards snowmen in tight neat rows, all with their little stick arms up in salute, and each one with an actual, stolen official helmet-mask.

Pela: You run a real tight ship out here, huh.

Gepard: (looooong weary muffled sigh as he drags a hand down his face)

[thetombedspirit]

So... I could be totally wrong, but based on the new promo pictures for Avatar 3, I think the Ash People are going to be less of a tribe and more of a cult.

I mean, just look at this image for starters. The ones one surrounding Varang are wearing some freaky looking masks, and Varang seems to be wearing an outfit made entirely of Na'vi braids. That is insane and defiantly makes me afraid of this woman. So no wonder she and Quaritch team up at some point.

You can actually see glimpses of Lyle and Quaritch in the back here as Varang introduces a new kind of creature, which is also pretty dope.

In fact, you can see a LOT of Na'vi here weilding guns, like WHAT?!?!

Which brings me to another image that I think really proves that not only are these people a cult, but they're a cult that worships the Sky People.

Yep. They have air balloon ships. We literally have Na'vi Sky Pirates.

All jokes aside though, what I think is going on is that the Ash People are a Cargo Cult, a group of indigenous people who see bizarre looking strangers coming from a foreign land (or in this case, planet) and basically liken them to Gods (for better details, I recommend watching Game Theory's Minecraft Cult video.)

Anyway, what I'm getting at here is that Na'vi like Varang probably were inspired by the Sky People and their giant metal ikran that could fit more then one person, and their weapons and tried to recreate them, disregarding the way of Eywa, which likely didn't go over well with the other Na'vi. Especially after Grace's School; they were probably banished when those particular Na'vi still supported them after the fact.

But when the RDA was first defeated and sent away, Varang and those Na'vi, like the Cargo Cults of Earth, tried anything to get them to return. They wear masks over their faces, they recreated their ships, they teach themselves how to use their weapons and basically making menaces of themselves to other Na'vi.

And so, Varang become the Olo'eykte of a new clan. A clan that worships the innovations and technologies of the Sky People.

And I bet they would be very excited if they were ever to come across Miles and Lyle, humans that have been reborn into Na'vi, hence why they start working together, which would be a scary thought to think about.

But it would make sense too, because, before, when I still thought of the Ash People as a legitimate clan, I never understood why a clan would be supportive of what they're doing if they worshipped Eywa and help them attack other Na'vi. Like why side with Quaritch when he wants to help the RDA perform a hostile takeover and not Jake, who wants to preserve the Na'vi home and way of life. But it does make sense to me, if they were ostracized by their people for their continued adoration of their techniques.

In fact, if I was to really dig into this, this might explain Teylan and his fascination with human tech too. If others are just as intrigued by their tech, then so would he.

So yeah, that is my reasoning for why I think the Ash People are a cult and why they would align themselves with the RDA. Please let me know what you think and I can't wait to see this movie!!!💙

EDIT!!

So these airships...

What I may have misinterpreted as a Ash People replication of ships may actually belong to another tribe that's to feature in the film. The Windtraders.

And that makes sense with this image of Neytiri and her Ikran flying beside them. The Ikran's calm, Neytiri has no weapon ready, so I can only assume that the Windtraders are a tribe of nomadic merchants, who travel from place to place and, as the name implies, trade with other clans.

Maybe one such clan they trade with is the Metkayina, and that's how we'll get introduced to this clan and their way of living.

I still %100 believe that the Ash People are a cult, but I just wanted to clarify my mishap.

And who knows? Maybe the Ash People are scheming to steal their ships so that they can really imitate the Sky People and that's how the Sully's confront them.

Be a good way to kick start the plot is all I'm thinking.

[kanansdume]

What's crazy and really shows off how impeccably awful this show managed to be is how DIFFERENT Anakin feels between the Kenobi show and the Ahsoka show, despite the fact that he's being played by the same actor probably within a year of each other if that.

And it's so clearly not the fault of the performer, Hayden Christensen is doing the absolute MOST to give an authentic and familiar performance of Anakin in the Ahsoka show and on a STRICTLY acting standpoint, I think he succeeds. People have pointed out that the Anakin that Hayden is playing in the flashbacks, despite being in the TCW costumes, does not at all feel like TCW Anakin. There's nothing suave or charming about him. When he tries to joke and Ahsoka pushes back against it, he immediately gets defensive, which is perhaps one of the most in-characters thing about the entire performance. And obviously his performance as Sith Anakin is pure perfection.

But it's not just the performance that creates a character. It's the way other people discuss the character, it's the way that character impacts the world around them, it's what we as the audience are allowed to see of them.

In the Obi-Wan show, Anakin at his best is still a whiny little asshole. In the flashback scene, he's arrogant, he's overconfident, he's a little bit of a bully, he's stubborn, and he's a sore loser. It's left a little ambiguous as to whether this scene was a true flashback or something Else, but the dialogue of the scene and who is currently "winning" the match clearly are intended to parallel what's going on in the actual plot between Obi-Wan and Anakin. Which means you can just as easily interpret this as saying that the whiny little asshole you remember from the prequels is still the person behind that mask. Yes, he's got a vocoder changing his voice into something more menacing, his expressions hidden behind an emotionless mask, but that whiny teenager is still calling the shots here. That's precisely what motivates him. Even if it's intended as a more legitimate flashback, that's supposed to be Anakin at his BEST and he's... whiny. He's arrogant. You can say he can grow out of it at this point and that's clearly what Obi-Wan believes in the moment, but the best he's got is... still this.

And he never grew out of it, he never left that arrogance and entitlement behind. He decided to let it define him instead. He might've had promise if he'd chosen to outgrow his more negative traits, but he didn't. He just stayed forever in the mindset of that annoying little 19 year old asshole.

And at his worst, Anakin's a literal unhinged MONSTER. He's casually walking by and murdering innocents just to get Obi-Wan's attention, he's stabbing Reva just because he can, he's ripping open ships, he's burning Obi-Wan alive out of vengeance. His face when that mask comes off has a manic GLEE as he talks about having "killed" himself just to try to manipulate Obi-Wan and the way he screams Obi-Wan's name at the end is so intensely disturbing. So many people saw that moment as Anakin having this moment of mindfulness, but I didn't see or hear a single sane moment in the entire scene. The whole thing is off-kilter and it feels pretty intentionally off-kilter, both in the writing and the acting and directing. Anakin's made his choice. This is it.

In the Kenobi show, Anakin might've once had promise. But he also had immense potential for monstrous evil, that was ALSO there as well. And whatever promise used to be there is now squandered in favor of the arrogance and cruelty and entitlement, which means that it's not worth Obi-Wan's time and effort and energy continuing to wonder what if about it. Because, quite honestly, it doesn't MATTER. Obi-Wan isn't fighting for Anakin anymore by the end. He's not fighting to destroy Anakin, but he's not fighting to save him, either. And the whole point of his relationships with Luke and Leia is that he has to learn to care about them for who THEY are rather than because he cared about their biological parents. He has to see them for who they've become and allow them to grow without worrying about how much like Anakin or Padme they might end up being. They're not Anakin and Padme, they're Luke and Leia, and his relationship with them is ultimately better for letting go of seeing them as anything other than who they actually are.

The people who were in charge of the Kenobi show clearly understood that in order for Obi-Wan to stand on his own as a main character of his own story, they needed to clearly differentiate him from Anakin and FREE him from Anakin. Yes, Obi-Wan is built to be Anakin's narrative foil and has been since day 1. Yes, Obi-Wan's story is very tied up in Anakin's. But this was OBI-WAN'S story and just for this one moment, they could let Obi-Wan be more than just someone who revolves around Anakin. He's his own person who makes his own connections and relationships that have nothing to do with Anakin and he only truly starts to feel like himself again when he walks away from Anakin and leaves him behind and accepts that Anakin has chosen to be someone that Obi-Wan cannot change. No one writing the Kenobi show wanted Obi-Wan to be more IMPORTANT to the narrative than Anakin, but they were able to allow Anakin to take a back seat so that Obi-Wan could actually grow and develop into his own character.

The same cannot be said for the Ahsoka show.

In the Ahsoka show, Anakin is portrayed IMMENSELY positively. At his best, Anakin is a wise powerful sage watching over someone he cares about and pushing her to be better. At his worst, he's... pushing her a little? They MENTION he's intense, and we see visions of him as a Sith, sure, but if that was Anakin at all, then it leaves you with the impression that he only pushed Ahsoka because he cared about her and she needed it and he was ultimately right to do so anyway. Was it tough? I guess, but nothing that would ultimately truly hurt her at all. Anakin's worst sins aren't touched on at all. Anakin is constantly remembered as someone who was GOOD without really acknowledging that while he might've been good at times, he wasn't always. Even when Ahsoka remembers him as a good master, he was still someone who believed in fascism and had massacred an entire village down to the last child. That person Ahsoka remembers was still a bad person and this show desperately wants you to forget that any of that is true about him.

And via proxies like Sabine and Ahsoka herself, this show DEFENDS Anakin's choices across the board. It's not even just that he was a good master, but that he ultimately did the RIGHT THING by choosing Padme over the galaxy because he did it out of "love," turning the genocide of the Jedi into something that was caused by their OWN failures instead of Anakin's failures.

There's zero recognition that Anakin was, ultimately, a failure. He was a failure as a Jedi, a failure as a master, a failure as a husband and a father, and a failure just as a generally good person. Anakin was a bad person who did bad things. Maybe he wasn't always, maybe he had his moments, fine, but overall? What's the legacy he leaves? What are people going to truly remember him for most? Despite his choice to save Luke in his last moments, his impact upon the galaxy is still a net negative.

And Ahsoka can have good memories of him and still recognize that Anakin's impact upon the galaxy was a bad one. She can choose to focus on the good memories she has without pretending like he was in actuality a good master who did nothing wrong. It's not like those two things can't co-exist and that is, in essence, exactly what Obi-Wan has to do. It's why he can say honestly and genuinely tell Leia at the end of the show that her father was "passionate, fearless, and forthright" even though just a day or so ago he'd accepted that Anakin himself had chosen to be an evil person now. He can remember Anakin as the friend he'd cared for AND recognize that the person Anakin is now is not that person anymore. Anakin NOW is evil, Anakin NOW doesn't deserve Obi-Wan's time or focus or grief, Anakin NOW needs to just be let go of. They aren't two separate people, obviously, but people do grow and change, and Obi-Wan once loved Anakin, but the boy Obi-Wan loved is gone because Anakin has chosen not to be that kind of person anymore. He's not kind, he's not compassionate, he's not merciful, or thoughtful or any of the good qualities he used to have. The Kenobi show forces both Obi-Wan and the audience to recognize that no matter how good someone might once have been, it's important to recognize when they're not acting like that person anymore and it's better to let them go and walk away.

And the reason Ahsoka can't do that is because the writers can't. The people in charge of writing Anakin in this show see him so differently than the people who wrote Kenobi. The the writers of the Ahsoka show, Anakin is "the greatest of all of the Jedi," not even just for raw power reasons, but because he understood what love was all about and felt it so deeply. So instead of that love twisting him and being in so many ways his greatest flaw, it turned into his greatest strength, something the Jedi just didn't understand. They're coming at Anakin from a WILDLY opposite direction here and so the way he gets depicted and spoken about comes across so unnervingly different.

You CAN see it as Ahsoka just... viewing Anakin differently. Obi-Wan knew Anakin as a child and was a Jedi Master before the betrayal, so he is more capable of viewing Anakin as the whole of what he was and letting him go. Whereas Ahsoka was a lot younger, she barely got any training before the betrayal, so her perspective on him is intensely skewed by this. She can't truly conceive of Anakin as both the good master she remembers AND the nightmare monster she knows he became, so she just... picks one. She chooses to see him as a good master and that's it. Nothing else he ever did matters. She never has to think about the genocide, the murders, the enslavement, the betrayals. He was a good master, and that's the end of the story. This is the best way she can learn to cope with this particular trauma is to just... ignore it and decide it didn't happen and so her version of Anakin is the ONLY version of Anakin.

But the narrative itself sort-of presents this as the honest truth of Anakin rather than just Ahsoka's perspective on the matter. It's not that Ahsoka just can't cope any other way, it's that this is, legitimately, who Anakin was. Anakin WAS a good master and the fact that he abandoned Ahsoka to die and tried to kill her and genocided her people and desecrated her home apparently doesn't change that at all. Because he did all of it for love. And the fact that Anakin was the "greatest of all the Jedi" because of this means that Ahsoka gets exalted even more so because of that.

But Obi-Wan doesn't need that. He doesn't need to be exalted as better than everyone else, he doesn't need to be made important by manipulating the narrative. He already IS important and the people writing his story know that. He's not important because he's better than Anakin, he's important just because he is. He's baked into this story and can't be removed from it without completely undoing it and telling a totally new story. Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are, in some ways, total opposites. Obi-Wan is a massively important character to the narrative who's never been the main character of his own story before the Kenobi show, while Ahsoka spent a long time as the main character of her story but has never and will never be that important to the narrative. She can be added to it and give some extra dimension to it, but she can be pretty easily removed from it, too.

And their relationships to Anakin in their respective shows seem to reflect the way the writers feel about those facts and their understanding of the characters themselves.

[sonicasura]

Every time I remember an Autobot or Decepticon bitch about being stuck on Earth, Animated and Prime are the most frequent, it makes me laugh thinking how easy they got it. Imagine any iteration ending up on a version that is much more chaotic than the norm. Especially if the dangers are hidden or completely normal to humans.

We got JoJo's Bizarre Adventure where you literally can't trust even a simple POWER OUTLET. From stone masks that could turn people into eldritch vampire, pieces of Jesus Christ could give people powers, and martial arts which either turn the circulatory system into a sunlight generator (Hamon) or using the Golden Ratio to shred even dimensions (Spin).

I'm not forgetting about Stand Users either. Every sentient creature could become a Stand User, someone who can project a psychic manifestation of their fighting spirits that could look like anything with abilities that range from giving positive encouragement to stopping time. That weird individual on the street could dissect Megatron into pieces with fucking zippers through their Stand.

How about Resident Evil where the constant threat is viral infections? I'm not talking about the standard zombie virus either. We got mutant undead creating ones, parasitic worms/insects, to fucking hivemind mold. All guaranteed to least spawn mutants like giant man eating salamanders, evolving fanged blobs and even an eldritch dinosaur.

They have to constantly decontaminate base than just troops as a simple small strain could turn a rat into a dog sized menace. Plus all those zombies guts and blood they have to clean up if an infected did get inside. I'm pretty damn sure humans are no longer the gross squishies compared to that.

Last best addition to add is the 'Kaiju Series' i.e Kaiju No. 8, Godzilla/King Kong Monsterverse, and Pacific Rim. Normal Earth fauna doesn't cause much compared to this as kaiju practically made themselves home here. The bots aren't exactly prepared for megafauna being a constant presence and frequent threat.

Kaiju are territorial so their respective ships will get attacked if spotted too close to the creatures' home. Some may also feed on metal and think either faction are potential food. The humans here could potentially kick their afts like Kaiju No 8's Defense Force or Pacific Rim's Jaeger Pilots.

Never take what you have for granted. In the Autobots and Decepticons cases, that is a normal simple Earth. The other possibilities could be much worse.

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

More headcanons about Anakin and Ahsoka being menaces to the general public

I feel like both Anakin and Ahsoka react to being sick in similar ways and by reacting in similar ways I mean they do everything in their power to ignore the fact that they’re sick 

Which is funny because they both get annoyed when the other refuses to accept that they’re sick Ahsoka will take any hint that Anakin gives her that his condition is failing and runs with it 

Man could breathe different way and she’s like “Master it sounds like you’re sick maybe you should lay down and let me take over” to which Anakin refuses 

Ahsoka’s just as bad because Anakin tries his best to take care of her without letting her know he’s onto her 

But of course she’s not stupid and can tell when he’s being more of a helicopter sibling than normal and calls him on it 

God forbid they get sick at the same time because they just spend the whole time trying to take care of each other 

And god forbid they get sick at the same time when Obi-Wan is around cause then they just turn into whiny children 

Like no seriously it’s like a switch goes off in their brains that renders them into beings incapable of fixing their blankets 

Obi-Wan obliges because what dad would stop taking care of their kid depending on the age 

Honestly my brain kinda leaned into Ahsoka’s chaotic younger sister energy with this one 

But I love the idea that she will just sneak attack Anakin and Obi-Wan 

Most of her “sneak attacks” go something like this: Anakin walking down the hall minding his business when Ahsoka drops down from the ceiling 

But before she can land on him he sidesteps and grabs her by the collar before she can hit the floor which results in Ahsoka moaning and groaning that she “Almost got him that time” and Anakin grumbles back that the only thing that “almost got her” was a black eye

He does have to admit that her random seak attacks have made her better at climbing 

Sometimes she’ll walk up behind Obi-Wan and try to cover his eyes but most of the time all she gets is his shoulders 

Most of the time it doesn’t even slow the man down he just keeps walking while asking her about her day and how classes are going 

But as she gets older she’s able to mask her presence better and manages to sneak up on the men once or twice  

Obi wan is always willing to admit defeat and congratulates her on her well earned victory 

Anakin blames it on his age and that’s the only time that Ahsoka will ever hear him admit to being “old” (he’s 30) 

It’s an ongoing joke that you shouldn’t separate Ahsoka and Anakin some say you risk a limb if you try others say you’re risking your life what most don’t mention is how you’re risking your sanity 

Because they become the most annoying motherfuckers when they’re apart 

Ahsoka acts like they’ve been separated for 10 years and will tell stories like she’s reminiscing about the good old times but most of the time the people she tells the stories to were present for the events so it goes something like this:

“Hey Rex do you remember when me and Anakin threw someone into that lake those were the days” “Yes I do remember that commander because I was that person and it was a week ago”

In his defense that’s the fifth story she told him in the past hour and he was there for all of them

Anakin’s just as bad but for a different reason because all he does is overthink

Like don’t get me wrong he keeps up the “cool guy” personality before she leaves but the second she’s gone he’ll sprinkle little questions into normal conversations like “Do you think she packed warm enough?” “Do they have enough emergency rations?”  “Did anyone make sure that ship was up to code before they left?”

He made sure she packed for every single weather possible, he packed enough rations for two weeks even tho they were supposed to be gone for two days, and he checked the ship before they left 

Sometimes Anakin or Ahsoka will just walk into each other's room and hang out they don't do much they kinda just sit down and talk 

Sometimes they have a silent but mutual understanding to leave the room and go bother Obi-Wan in his 

I love the idea that Obi-Wan and Anakin are victims of Ahsoka’s undying fascination with human hair she loves when their hair is long and encourages them to grow it out longer so she has more to work with 

She all but falls to her knees when she sees how long Padme’s hair is and she’s the creator of some of Padme’s funkier hairstyles (both Anakin and Padme make a small note to force Ahsoka to do their future kid's hair)

She’s also weirded out by facial hair so every single time Obi-Wan shaves or Anakin tries to grow a beard they’re treated like a different person entirely 

It took them a while to figure out why but once they did they lost their minds laughing (and also made silent vows not to do it again cause it freaked her out)

People often say it’s like Ahsoka and Anakin can read each other's minds without using the force 

Some people find it hard to believe but it’s pretty easy to tell when people are having conversations through their bond and when two people are having a conversation just with looks

It’s not an uncommon sight for them to shoot each other looks after someone says something a little bold and for both of them to be laughing by the end of it 

It’s just as common for them to get into little arguments and finish it in complete and total silence before one of them finally gives in with a huff 

It’s kinda freaky but they don’t seem to notice and everyone around them is too used to it to care

[aoioozora]

Watery Grave

Content: Pirate! Ghost x Sea Goddess! Reader, enemies, no happy ending TW: Blood, gore, death

From your underwater abode, you looked up at the wispy streams of daylight flickering and filtering through the rippling seawater. For the past few months, the waters thrummed with a certain uncertainty and fear. Trouble had been brewing upon the surface, enough for your worshippers to increase their prayers, pleas, and offerings to you, begging for your interference.

A large and familiar shadow floated over the surface and made its way past, far above your abode, momentarily blocking out the sunlight. You rose, took hold of the jet black sword next to you and fastened it to your belt. With a strong flick of your tail, you propelled yourself upward many fathoms to the surface, cutting through the waters past the aquatic life of all shapes and sizes which made way for their ruler's urgency.

It was the right time to strike.

As your head poked out from under the water, you were face to face with a massive wooden ship. Diving again, you swam away to make way for it and then resurfaced to take a closer look. It was unmistakable: the Jolly Roger ruddied in the blood of victims fluttered proudly with the wind as it stayed anchored to the apex of the main mast. Men of all ages, armed with swords, some gaunt and others rotund bustled about the vessel, singing shanties over their duties. At the helm stood the personage most complained about.

A tall, muscular man, Captain of the vessel, stood steering at the rudder, his long blond locks tamed in a single braid and a soiled red scarf wrapped around his head. Upon his face was a mask rumored to have been made out of a victim's skull. Nobody knew his real name, but from the mask alone, he was dubbed 'Ghost', and even called the Underworld's favourite hound for how many people he'd sent there, certainly increasing the work for the god of death and the dead. But you scoffed at the name, for you knew the god of the Underworld had a hound more favoured than this man.

From what you heard of the prayers of your worshippers, this man was an infernal menace. His band of pirates attacked the kingdom's navy ships, home and foreign merchant ships, and fishermen's boats, looting, setting on fire, and upturning every last one of them and bathing in their blood in cold revelry. You witnessed ship after ship, body after body sink into the water that was a part of you, all mingled with the bitter and salty taste of blood that you hated.

They attacked, terrorized, and ransacked the towns and cities, and in their blood soaked hands they held their victims in an iron grip. Not even the navy or the king could stand before their powerful band of bloodthirsty ruffians. That wasn't all. They even looted and destroyed temples and shrines built for you; these heathen didn't believe you existed and watched them.

Believing or not, would they stand a chance against the goddess of the sea upon whose domain they sailed and polluted?

It was time to put an end to this man.

Diving back underneath, another flick of your tail propelled you ahead of the ship several miles. With a twirl of your finger, you began to stir the seas a little, making them a little unstable and stormy but not enough to cause any alarm to the ship yet.

When you were far enough from the ship that it appeared as a little blip against the now darkening horizon, you emerged fully from the water, your tail now changing to a pair of legs as you stood upon the surface, watching the ship approach.

You raised your scaly arms slowly in front of you and at your behest, a small wave pushed forward towards the ship, beating against it and pushing it back slightly. You clenched your fists and the wave held fast, flattening against the surface. You then yanked your arms back harshly, as if heaving a net full of fish into a boat. The flattened wave rose high from behind the ship and hurtled the vessel forward at a speed that was enough to send them shrieking.

With your far seeing eye, you watched Ghost throw around frantic orders to his crew. The deck was flooded and you could see them scrambling to get the water out. With another swipe of your hand, another wave was sent crashing against them, nearly threatening to topple over the vessel. You raised your eye heavenwards and saw the darkening clouds looming overhead.

"I have to get his underlings out of the way first," you thought to yourself as you orchestrated the wild movements of the sea, sending the ship tossing and turning as a drunken man, causing the poor pirate captain to be unable to take control with the rudder.

"Drop the anchors!" called Ghost in his booming, sand-like voice.

"Futile," you murmured, watching as his crew, beaten by the boisterous waves, scrambled to let the anchors go. Over the crash of the water and the wind, the chains clattered loudly; the anchor flew downwards, splashing water. No sooner it sunk, a single snap of your finger was enough to send an underwater current strong enough to snap the iron chains.

The effect of it was immediately noticed by Ghost, who saw that the sea found it easier to toss his vessel. He ordered for the anchor to be pulled back up.

"It's broken, Captain!" called one of his underlings.

Ghost cursed out loud, still trying to take control with the rudder, but it appeared to him that the sea had a mind of its own. The rough tossing threw a handsome chunk of his crew into the sea; you sent the hungry sharks to feast on them, their blood-curdling screams the last thing to echo in the air as they were pulled into the depths. As their blood mingled in the water, you could taste it in your mouth; you swallowed harshly. Nobody's blood ever tasted good to you.

Your eye turned back to Ghost. Losing most of his crew all at once and right in front of him certainly made his heart suffer the sharp pangs of loss, but adrenaline forced him to look ahead and desperately turn the rudders to control the ship. The darkening skies poured fourth their showers, blocking out all hope of navigation with their fog, only adding to the misery.

"The gods are angry with us, Captain!" the second-in-command, a blue-eyed and brown haired fellow named Johnny cried, holding on to the rudder to keep himself from being thrown into the sea.

"Utter foolishness!" growled Ghost, "Do you believe in these "gods" now that you're in a storm just like any other?!"

"Captain, you know that this storm is unlike any we have ever sailed through!" Johnny exclaimed, turning his face away to avoid a slap from the waves from knocking his breath out of his lungs.

"I do not believe it!" Ghost yelled adamantly, aggressively twisting and turning at the rudder, even though he knew it was futile.

"They must be real! Remember that we have destroyed the temples of the sea goddess?! Those locals have warned us of her wrath!" Johnny tried to reason out his newfound belief, but Ghost was determined to be unreasonable.

The second-in-command was about to speak again, when a shadow in the foggy rain behind them arrested his attention. The shadow walked towards them upon the helm, its glowing golden eyes predatory and vicious, its size increasing in the fog as it drew nearer. Johnny's knees lost their strength and he collapsed to the drenched floors at Ghost's feet, watching with bulging eyes and mouth trembling and agape at this creature that approached slowly.

"Johnny, what are you doing?!" Ghost scolded, but any more words were halted when he saw the look of dread and fear in his lackey's face.

He turned over his shoulder. Standing right behind him was none other than you, goddess of the sea, towering over him a full foot. You stared down at him with your golden eyes. Fear seized his heart as he stared back.

"Who... are you?" Ghost managed to blurt out as his eyes swept over your armor of thick, iridescent scales, clawed hands, and flowing, windswept hair. Before you could answer him, he croaked, "Wait, you are..."

The towering creamy marble temples and idols of you that he personally trashed in the coastal towns came to mind; how he ransacked the offerings and filled your shrines with the blood of your priests and worshippers. The face of the fallen idol he had stepped on was familiar; it was yours.

"Goddess of the sea," you opened your mouth to supply, and it gave him the opportunity to see your serrated, razor sharp, shark-like teeth.

Your voice sounded like the rumbles of the raging sea and wind to him, and infamous and unbelieving as he was, even his knees gave away, making him fall prostrate at your feet. Johnny clung to him, face pale with fright.

"Spare us, goddess! Forgive us!" cried Johnny in pathetic shivers, groveling and begging at your feet.

Your clawed hand placed itself upon the hilt of your sword. "No more," you answered, "You lot have gone far enough, and I have excused your behaviour long enough." Though your voice was calm and even, it was apparent to them from the boisterous waves, the howling winds, and the torrents that you were far from it.

"Please!" Johnny raised his head, continuing to plead.

You drew out your sword. The next thing Johnny felt was the sharp, sizzling hot sting of the sharp metal against his neck slicing against his skin, muscle, blood vessel, and bone cutting through him like he was room temperature butter. With a single sweep, his severed head was sent flying against the bannisters of the helm. His lifeless body slumped down at your feet, his life blood spurting, oozing, and pooling at your feet and at Ghost's knees, soaking into his clothes and the wood beneath him. The Captain of the vessel was frozen with fear and shock. He stared with wide, horrified eyes at the headless corpse of his second-in-command, and at his head being tossed to and fro with the ship, spreading blood all over the helm. He felt something tear in his heart.

"Johnny! Johnny!" he cried and screamed despairingly and agonizingly over the roar of the tempest when he had finally found his voice. He clasped the shoulders of the corpse and shook them vainly, as if it would revive his only friend.

The dead man's blood mingled with the seawater at your feet, and again you felt the bitter taste. You grimaced at it. You took a step back from the two, mercifully allowing Ghost a moment to mourn.

"Rise, you blasphemer," you then commanded, now easing the waves a little, "Draw out your sword and fight me."

"What power have I over a deity?" he answered without looking at you, his trembling hand placed over the back of his dead friend.

You scoffed at this meek answer. "Do not you remember how you destroyed my temples, claiming that you were stronger than the gods?" You pointed the tip of the sword under his chin, nudging his face upwards to meet your eyes, "Prove yourself."

Johnny's severed head rolled over to Ghost's knee at that moment. The fear and panic was frozen into his features, and the Captain felt the weight of his dead friend's reasoning heavy on his heart.

Ghost rose to his feet. You pulled your sword away from his chin, taking several steps back, watching as he drew out his cutlass. He raised his weary, mournful head to look back at you; for a moment he dared to feel something other fear and anger: a sense of awe at your beauty.

"You may be a goddess, but you murdered my only friend in cold blood," Ghost clenched both his jaw and his cutlass as his eyes lingered on the black sword in your hand. Jet black and shining with an ominous, otherworldly glow, it looked like a longsword forged by the gods themselves. The sight of the weapon churned his stomach, as if warning him to not be foolhardy and trifle with it.

"Have you finally realised the taste of your own medicine?" you ask, now beginning to circle him. He copied. "Though I do not murder in cold blood as you assume," your glowing eyes stared right into his dark ones, "Inflicting death is my last resort."

"Is it likewise for me then, goddess? Do you deign to be merciful unto me by letting me live a few moments more before my death?"

"Certainly, I do," you answered, "I must first ensure that you are bark as well as bite."

Ghost blinked once. He didn't see you standing before him.

"En garde, heathen!" you called, appearing directly in front of him. You brought down your sword, aiming to slice his head in half.

Ghost was quick to obey. His arm jerked upwards. Both swords met with a deafening clang. A struggle for power ensued, with the two pushing and grinding their swords against each other. The man was surprised at how you were able to swing your longsword in such a cramped helm.

"Is this a fair fight?" asked Ghost, pushing back against you, feeling his muscles tense and burn at the immense pressure you were giving right back at him. You were after all, in every sense of the word, a deity.

"No, however, for your benefit and mine, I am holding back," you drew back your weapon, easing on the pressure a little.

"You are as merciful as they say you are," he grunted, pushing back.

"I thank you."

The swords grated against each other, causing sparks to flicker at the rough contact. Pulling your sword away, you thrust the long blade to his side to injure him. But Ghost spun on his heel, turning sideways to evade the thrust. He lunged his cutlass to your neck, only for it to be stopped by your scaly armor.

You slashed horizontally against his carelessly open torso. He stomped his back foot further back to widen the gap, narrowly missing his stomach. The tip grazed against his soiled white shirt, burning the torn edges of the fabric into soot. Ghost felt the unusual heat of the weapon against his body and blocked with his weapon, and the swords ground against each other once again.

"What is that sword of yours? It is unlike anything I've ever seen," said Ghost with admiration, stepping forward and pushing against you, daring to meet your golden eyes.

"Of course it is, because it has been forged by the god of the Underworld," you explained, "with its finest underworld obsidian. It is death to any mortal who touches it."

"No wonder it burned when it touched me." He thought.

"And what, did you steal this weapon?" he taunted, smiling under his mask.

"I do not sink myself down to do such devious things," you glared at him, "I have been given complete authority to wield this sword and to kill you."

"And yet you aren't." He continued to look into your eyes, mesmerized by the liquidy gold color with flecks of brown and teal appearing as spokes on a wheel, converging into your black pupils.

This man, Ghost, had been bestowed the privilege of peering into the eyes of arguably one of the most beautiful goddesses of the realm at such close proximity; some would consider him blessed and fortunate, others the opposite, though he didn't realize it.

"Your time is not yet, but it is at hand," You looked back into his dark brown eyes, "and all of heaven, earth, and sea will bear witness."

The fight continued, and so did the tempest. He was an excellent swordsman and put up a fine fight, and you genuinely felt it a shame to kill him. However, duty was paramount. You cornered him to the teetering tip of the bowsprit, pointing your sword at him. He stood in silence, gasping heavily as he considered the raging sea beneath him and its goddess right in front of him.

"You are determined to not spare me, I presume?" he asked.

"Most determined."

The winds slowed from howls to whispers, the rain lightened, and the seas calmed slightly. Ghost maintained his balance on the narrow bowsprit, pondering. He knew he'd eventually die at sea, but never did he think he'd be face to face with the very being he didn't believe in. He looked at you, remembering the sayings of the locals, "Nobody who sees the goddess of the sea lives to tell the tale," and how true it appeared to him now, those words he called old wives tales. Your sword was pointed at him threateningly; even in the dull weather, it glowed with an ominous light, reminding him that Death himself loomed over his guilty head.

You waited, watching him closely to see what he'd say in return. Would be plead and beg? Would he be cocky even at death's door? Or something else?

He scoffed, making you raise a brow. The air was then echoing with his laughter as he declared boastfully, not knowing from whence his own self-confidence came from, "Pity, but the jaws of hell can never hold me down!"

You sighed, "Such is the hubris of man."

Bringing the sword to your side away from him, you lunged. You opened your mouth and sunk your razor-sharp teeth into his neck. He let out a bellow of pain as you pushed him off the bowsprit, sending both of you hurtling into the disturbed depths. Upon contact with the surface of the water from such a height, Ghost felt like he fell down on an iron fortress. The pain pulsated and surged like waves of an earthquake, rattling and breaking his feeble, mortal bones. As the two of you sank, the biting cold water choked and muffled his screams into air bubbles as you held him fast between your jaws.

He was thrown down to the underwater floor, feeling the weight of the entire sea pressing down on his now frail, broken body. When you let his neck go, his blood spurt out, diffusing with the water. You spat the salty liquid out, not even wanting to swallow it, and wiped your lips. He lay there on the ground, somehow still alive, but eyes dimming by the second as he watched the daylight several fathoms over him flickering. You stood over over him with your feet planted on the ground on either side of his waist, blocking out the dim light from his vision. Taking the hilt of your sword in both your hands, you pointed the blade downwards, pressing the tip gently over his heart.

"Have you any last words, heathen?" you asked, staring down at him.

He looked back at you, and there was a certain twinkle in his dark eyes even then as he took in your features. One last time, he observed how your flowing hair floated in the water, how your golden eyes glowed, and how your iridescent scales flickered against the filtering daylight. He opened his quivering lips and croaked a muffled response over the water filling his lungs.

"You are beautiful."

You closed your eyes for a moment and then opened them again.

"I thank you."

He felt the burning metal of your deadly sword sink into his chest, piercing into his heart as you thrust the weapon in. His eyes remained on you, even as they dimmed and his consciousness slowly ebbed away, filling him with a strange peace.

You pulled out your sword and looked down at his body. His blood rose from the wound and mingled into the water like the soft, coiling wisps of smoke of burnt incense in your temples.

You wiped the blood off the sword, signifying the end of your duty. Stooping down, you sliced off the strings of his skull mask and pulled it away from his face to take a look at this infamous man. A pity he was so handsome.

Taking a step back, you rose and swam away with the prize, letting him rest in his watery grave.

[astyrial]

saved by the scream tasm!peter parker x gn!reader (fluff) synopsis: you give spidey an ultimatum word count: 836 warnings: none masterlist | requests are open

    maybe queens isn't described as the windy city. but as you sit on your apartment's balcony, you can feel the intense winds of a storm brewing. it brings a warm feeling to your cheeks, a light windburn occurring. you stare out into the fall air and not too far away you can see someone swinging through the air.

  the only person who comes to mind is spiderman, the city's unofficial hero. even if the jonah jameson and police chief want queens to believe he's a 'menace', you still believe that he's a hero. and maybe you're a little biased...

  "it's freezing out here, what are you doing?" someone questions from above you, his voice music to your ears. 

  you look up as spiderman lowers down, a costume over his normal spandex suit. it resembles that of einstein. even a grey wig is fastened to the top of his suit, a string tied under his chin to hold it there. as he gets closer you notice grey eyebrows and a mustache seemingly velcroed to his mask. 

  spiderman even has a lab coat on that is cascading past his head and hitting your balcony. "i could ask you the same question mr. albert einstein," you rest your hands on your hips, a smile gracing your face. 

  "ahhh so you like it? because i worked really hard to impress that smart mind you have."

  "impress me? well all you have to do to impress me is tell me your identity. i will start guessing and then it's all over for you. because i know you go to my school and that we have a class together," you cross your arms in front of your chest, shaking your head a little.

  spiderman flips over, his feet landing on the railing of your balcony. he shakes his head, rolling his hands as if he's about to explain some reason as to why you can't know his identity, "it would be unsafe for you to know any of that. i love our little chats but it's not safe."

  you raise an eyebrow, an unimpressed look cascading over your face. "not safe? how many times have i helped you stop a villain by just being me with my knowledge? you think i can't handle it?" a scoff quickly follows, you rolling your eyes.

  "not that you can't handle it, but if something does happen, it's my fault. i wouldn't be able to handle it if something happened and your parents-"

  "so you've met my parents before?" 

  "y/n-" spiderman begins once more, trying to convince you of something that you're already set on someday knowing. 

  you shake your head, "no, you can't call me 'y/n' when i can only call you spiderboy. we've been through a lot, you know that. so don't keep coming around and playing with my feelings if i never get to know the real you! either tell me your identity or stop coming here..."

  spiderman's eyes widen, surprised that you had such a reaction to not knowing his identity. he always kept it hidden from the people he loved the most. and now the person he has fallen for is standing there telling him to ship out or tell the truth. 

  "you're right.. i shouldn't be doing this to you. if i tell you my identity, you have to keep it to yourself. you can't tell anyone because it could put any of you in danger. along with my family. y/n, i don't want to lose you, and if that means telling you to keep you in my life, so be it," spiderman jumps down onto your balcony, his hand reaching for yours. 

  you reach your hand out to grab his, your mouth agape in surprise. you'd finally know who's been hiding behind that mask for the past few months. he grabs the bottom of his mask and starts pulling it up. his chin has slight stubble on it and his face is a lighter complexion. 

  however, before he can finish pulling it off, someone shouts for help. it's loud, bloodcurdling, and echoes off of the surrounding buildings. spiderman immediately pulls the mask back down before twisting his head in the direction of the scream. he turns back to you, pulling the eyebrows and lab coat off of his suit.

  "next time i see you, i'll tell you y/n," he squeezes your hand, a grip that proves just how much he cares about you. 

  you sigh looking out at the city and then back at him, nodding. "i get it, go save a life spidey. make sure you get back here soon because you can't leave a person hanging like that," the wind rushes past you as he hops onto the balcony's railing. 

  he turns around once more, nodding towards you. and just like that he's off into the night once more. his suit concealing his identity to everyone including you. honestly, though, you could wait another night if that meant he was saving a life.

[flatstarcarcosa]

Me getting mashed potatoes before work and going ough that was too many I'm miserable now

And then me getting off work 8 hours later and getting frenched fries and going ough that was too many I'm miserable now

And Norman about ready to beat my ass

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

02/06/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; New Events calendar; A Safe Space Ship Event; Watch Parties; Reminders; Cast & Crew Sightings; Clowning; OLD SPICE!; Stats!; Market Research?; Articles; Personal Update; Love Notes; Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika

== New Events Calendar from SaveOFMDCrew! ==

More events happening throughout the week! Tumblr Post

Tomorrow is Cosplay Day! Show off your cosplay and OFMD-Inspired outfits with the hashtags: #WearFineThingsWell!

= New Upcoming Event: A Safe Space Ship! =

Sunday, February 11th - Star of India in San Diego, CA! Museum Hrs: 10 am - 5 PM 1/2 Price Tickets!

== Watch Parties ==

Today's WWDITS watch party went great!

Lots of people had fun pointing out our lovely characters from the show (Mads, Taika, Rhys)

It actually went so well the SaveOFMDCrew twitter got banned! It's back though! If you can, please be sure to follow their backup account in case it happens again.

== Reminders! ==

Muppet Treasure Island - Feb 7th 2024 4PM EST, 1PM PST, 9 PM GMT

Watch Party Hashtags:

#MuppetPirates

#AdoptOurCrew

#SaveOFMD

== Cast & Crew Sightings ==

This was technically the 5th, but I don't think the excitement happened mostly today so I'm gonna throw it in! So Chaos Dad popped his head out yesterday just long enough to like Samba's BTS post on twitter and then also Samba and Rhys' little exchange.

And of course that triggered clowning since anytime Chaos Dad pops in we don our clown shoes. Thank you to @merryfinches for catching some of the discourse!

== Old Spice! ==

Well well well, we're back to polite menacing brands until they respond to us!

Looks like another Astroglide is starting up, the Crew is out there matching deodorants to characters. Thanks to @brainfugk for calling it out!

== Stats! Stats! Stats! ==

So close fam! Let's keep pushing that UK viewership if you have the time/spoons!

= Market Research Campaign about OFMD Potentially Going On? =

There's some speculation around the market research company YouGov potentially conducting research on OFMD. There's a big thread. Why is this important? Well this company works with streamers to measure viewership data, and if OFMD is in there...and someone's interested, that could be a good sign.

Some folks signed up, and if you're interested in doing so too, you can here.

== Articles ==

Some fun articles tonight, including Hard Drive again!

Joke Article: HBO Max Unveils Ominous New “Don’t Get Too Attached” Category

Our Flag Means Death and 9 Other Best TV Shows and Movies About Pirates

Our Flags Means Death fans get TV licence just to watch pirate show

== Personal Update ==

Some of you have heard, I got the COVID so I may be in and out over the next several days, I'm still trying to make sure I get to recaps though so don't worry! I'll let you know if I can't. Remember to mask up if you can and stay hydrated out there luvs!

== Love Notes ==

Alright lovelies. We've run out of Rhys videos for a few days so you're back to me being irritatingly loving at you! I saw this today on The Latest Kate's instagram and it reminded me of a few things I wanted to say. My brain is a bit covid-fogged so apologies if it's a bit wibbly wobbly.

We all struggle with so many little and big things in our lives. Whether it's mental health, self esteem, a physical ailment, love, lonliness, self-identity, family, friends, world conflicts, or anything, I could go on and on.

I know sometimes it feels like you are pushing so hard and you start making so much progress-- and then something, big or little stalls everything and you feel like you're having to start from scratch again.

I just want to send you a gentle reminder that progress isn't always linear. Just because you have lost momentum doesn't mean you've lost your progress. Every single situation is a learning opportunity and every time you run into a new hurdle, you learn from the last one.

You are wonderfully intelligent, kind, precious, complex people and no matter what you're dealing with, no matter how small or how big, you are moving forward and making headway bits at a time. Remember to be kind to yourself and don't beat yourself up for bad days.

We are so proud of you lovelies, remember that.

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Tonight's gifs are courtesy of the glorious, brilliant, talented, ever-enabling @celluloidbroomcloset from her post over here.

Ok, Good Afternoon, Good Evening and Goodnight all! <3

[hiimawarish]

bad for business

s. ayato teases you while you're both supposed to be working. cw. pure unadultered fluff. ayato being a menace. established relationship. female/afab reader. tw. none. not proofread. wc. 0.7k a/n. maybe a lil self-ship since i made the reader an editor from yae publishing house? in any case, it's just ayato enjoying teasing the heck out of you because he's a menace like that. credits. dividers by @/cafekitsune.

“Stop that.”

A rumble of laughter echoes at your words, ripples of chuckles bouncing from wall to wall in the expanse of the Yashiro Commissioner's office. You glance up from your book, cheeks tinged in pink at the amused grin dancing on Ayato’s lips. At the sight of your flush, his smile seems to widen, and you wonder if it would be okay to throw the book at him. It would not, but the urge does not disappear as quickly as it does at other times.

“Stop what?” He finally says. There’s feign ignorance on his expression—one that would surely fool most people, but not you. You’ve been around your boyfriend long enough to see through the cracks of his mask. 

“You know what.”

More laughter fills the room. You puff out your cheeks in that expression he loves so much, the way you pout when he insists on teasing you, the gleaming shame in your eyes as you struggle to handle his devotion. Ayato loves seeing you squirm, that much is true, but more than that he loves you.

“I am merely watching you,” He says, the silk of his voice a reminder of the effect he has on you. An effect he is aware of. An effect he seems to be counting on. “I wasn’t aware that was a crime.”

“You’re distracting me.”

“I am watching you, love,” He chuckles again. “Am I such a distracting presence, then?”

“Shouldn’t you be working?”

Ah, a change in topic. An attempt, actually, he thinks. The lilac of his eyes glows with amusement as you squirm under his gaze, eyes desperately trying to focus on the words in front of you instead of his eyes on your frame. It does not seem to be working very well, he realizes; you’re awfully aware of him, of the fact that he has stopped working through the very boring requests that come to his door every day. 

“Ah, but to work one must also take breaks,” Ayato muses, crossing his arms across his chest with a self-satisfied grin. A smile that you wish you could erase from his face by throwing the damn book at him. You won’t, though. He knows that much. “Weren’t you the one who insisted I take breaks, dear?”

“And you suggested I accompany you while you work,” You remind him. Your eyes look down at the book in your hands—a manuscript you’re supposed to have read by tonight, so you can start working on editing tomorrow. “Maybe it’d be better if I leave you to work.”

Ah, you’ve reached your limit, Ayato thinks. There is only so much teasing you can take, so much tension, and the habit of running away prevailed no matter how much he tried to erase it. You still run from him when you feel overwhelmed. You run at the first chance, he knows, but this time he won’t allow you to. 

He watches you as you pull yourself to your feet, the kimono he had bought for you a few weeks ago hiding your curves in plain sight. Your hair is half down, as you always wear it; all up gives you headaches, and all down ends up all over your face. Ayato knows all these little nuances from you just by paying silent attention to your every word, your every action—like how you enjoy reading a few pages before going to bed, or how you seem to like savory snacks more than sweet ones, or that awkward smile you always seem to give whenever you’re asked about your relationship, how you never know what to say, what to share. You’re far too respectful, he thinks; you worry too much about his reputation. 

As you walk past his desk, though, he acts.

His hands reach for your arm, and in a matter of seconds, he’s got you on his lap, trapped between the protective cage of his arms. The yelp that escaped your lips hidden behind his amused chuckle as he cradles you against his chest, his beating heart right against your ear. 

“There,” Ayato hums, contently. “Much better.”

The manuscript is forgotten on the ground as he holds you, and you wonder for a few seconds if you should go ahead and chide him… but decide against it. You relax in his arms, enjoying his warmth, closing your eyes to indulge him and yourself in the sweetness of an ephemeral moment in the busy lives you lead.

You sigh. He laughs.

The Yashiro Commissioner can be bad for business, but, archons, is he good for your heart.

more works.

©2023 hiimawarish do not translate, repost, copy, modify

[boyfhee]

⌕ TAKE TWO ━━ 13 : unauthorized investigation

PRECIS. while riki constantly assured you that him being an idol under a different label wouldn't be an issue in your relationship, you start getting second thoughts when fans start shipping him with his co-mc at music bank.

w. angst, miya ( bbg deserves her own warning )

wc. 1.23k

“i didn’t expect you to actually come,” miya chuckles, a menacing grin dancing on her lips with unclear intentions masking her eyes. there’s not much you can decipher about her, except that she’s here for nothing more than your boyfriend. “do you not trust your boyfriend? do you think he’s actually hiding something from you?” 

you watch her skim through the menu as if this is supposed to be some friends’ day out, her characteristic smile never leaving her face even for a second. perhaps, it’s the smile that has people wrapped around her, or maybe more. you’re here to fight for what belongs to you in the first place, but one look at miya, and you’re thinking of all the reasons you could lose from her. you aren’t the type to think of the worst possible scenarios before trying, but something about her has you counting your other options. 

what if she actually succeeds in whatever she’s planning? 

what if riki loves her and not you?

what if. . . and what ifs are all that have been plaguing your mind ever since you received her text. her presence isn’t one to stand out but her words weigh down your shoulders. the truth about riki, you might never know. maybe, it’s part of a bigger plan, maybe she’s simply messing with you. you don’t know, you would never. miya, in herself, is sort of a mystery, and you hate how she makes you question everything you’ve been confident about. 

“no, i’m just here to see how pathetic you can get,” but you have a dignity to maintain, a look to deliver that you aren’t half bothered by her silly tricks, even if it’s a white lie. 

“you’ve really painted me as the villain in your eyes, haven’t you?” you wonder if she’s trying to incite you, to make you lose your cool. her words are of less importance, almost none, for she’s asking questions she already knows the answers too. she tried to break up your relationship with riki, took every opportunity to ruin things between the two of you and create doubts. so yes, if you consider these things, a villain is not even close to how you see her. 

“i don’t want someone who doesn’t want me, but if there’s even a little chance that he does, i’m not backing off,” it’s an apology and a challenge in the same sentence. as if, she’s sorry that you’re about to lose your relationship, but riki is worth fighting and so, she’s not going to apologise for being the reason why your relationship is falling apart. “besides, i can’t control who i fall for, now, can i?” 

“of course,” you reach the conclusion that she’s trying to buy time, to annoy you enough that it leaves you with few options, one of them being giving up. it’s smart, you would say, because throwing around the blame and playing the victim card, if done correctly, tends to turn situations in your favour. her eyes still travel back and forth between you and the menu— it doesn’t seem like she’s planning on ordering anything. and in the end, there’s no truth, all lies, and one benefit of doubt.   

“yn, i’m not an enemy,” her voice goes soft, eyes looking at you as if you’re supposed to be on her team. “i’m your friend. i’m just another person in love, just like you. i’m really hoping you’d understand,” and there’s a certain tone in her voice; pride, pity— desire.   

it’s a shame how you failed to recognise it at once. 

“understand what, that it’s okay to ruin someone’s relationship? or that, everything is fair as long as you get what you want, even if it means ruining someone’s career?” there are a thousand reasons why riki could choose her over you, and a million reasons why he wouldn’t. one could be so blindly in love to even forget what’s good and bad, or right and wrong, but god, not riki, not him. you’ve known him for over ten years, dated for three, and there’s only one thing about him that you’re sure of— music. you would find yourself wondering how life would’ve been if you had never chosen this field, but not him. riki has one dream, to make music, and his second, you, or so you believe.  

“now, when did i do that?” and miya goes again, pretending to be the innocent one in his unauthorised interrogation. you know she’s in the wrong, but the look in her eyes and the confidence dancing on the tips of her fingers push you towards fear. she isn’t half as astute as you, but she came prepared. as if she had played this conversation in her head weeks ago before fixing her target and sharpening her moves. 

“oh, i know you paid the media to post pictures of you and riki to provoke us. even his instagram, it was impossible to track it and find the pictures since it’s a private account that has been inactive for years,” you say as a matter of fact, “you think you’re the smart one here but it really doesn’t take a scientist to catch up to your cheap moves,” 

at first, you thought of it as a coincidence— the media finding riki’s account, an article about dating while referring to a picture taken months ago— but the more you think about it, the less it comes off as just a coincidence. in fact, things fell into place better when you imagined miya behind every single thing that has happened lately. it would make more sense to claim that she tipped off journalists to post articles about her and riki everytime the rumours seemed to disappear, just to make sure the fans stayed interested in whatever hypothesis she was trying to prove. she planned it out, has been doing so for months probably, and you would give her the credit of being incredibly clever and impossibly crazy; the more intelligent, the less sane. 

“oh, okay, i did that,” she shrugs nonchalantly, as if her actions don’t concern her anymore. the lack of remorse and the abundance of everything else on her face is making your palms sweat, afraid that the next moment, your boyfriend would be slipping through the cracks of your hands and you wouldn’t be able to hold him. “but yn, do you really think i’m the only one who wants this?” 

“what do you mean?” there’s a stern look in her eyes. her words are firm, she sounds a little too certain for your comfort. maybe, she’s just a really good liar, maybe you’re reading too much into her actions. maybe, it’s something you’ve created inside your head and it will go away when you wake up. just maybe, those are the words you decide to hold onto. 

“you’ve been doubting me since day one, convinced that i’m trying to steal your boyfriend, but what if it’s the other way round?” she leans on the table, you’re hoping her words won’t gesture towards what you’ve been fearing the most. “what if riki made the first move?” and miya knows it’s a blatant lie, but no amount of apologies from riki could bury her words deep enough to never unravel. 

after all, she just had to sow the seeds of doubt and let them do their job. 

PREV | NEXT | MASTERLIST

[feroluce]

I have been informed by a mutual aid that you are a henghill enjoyer. You've single-handedly gotten me to care about Gepard and I would love to hear your thoughts on Cowborg Menace x Dragon That Can't Catch a Break

Aaaaaaaa I'm really flattered!! I have also been informed by a mutual aid that you have good taste (read: rvb enjoyer) and I need you to know that part of the reason I treat Gepard the way I do, like messing with him constantly, is because he makes me think of Wash. Poor dude was doomed the moment I got my grubby little mitts on him sksjkskdjd

But anyway yes, henghill! They really got me by the throat out of nowhere in 2.2. They're just. Surprisingly sweet?

The two of them get along very well, they see eye to eye on a lot of matters and have some similar mannerisms, they can hold long conversations together, and they have a shockingly swift understanding of the other in a very small amount of time! Platonically or romantically, there's a lot to dig into there. ♡

And I do mean a lot this basically ended up becoming a big long ship manifesto I'm so sorry zmjzznkdjd

Like first of all they're both fucking nerds over each other. Boothill's adoration for the Xianzhou alliance is already well-documented in his About Dan Heng voice line, and is appropriately pointed out in the fandom as sounding gay as all hell.

We know what you are, Boothill.

But then! He further cements it by trying to use Xianzhou sayings in front of Dan Heng haha

Not only that, but Boothill was able to recognize the Jade Abacus of Allying Oath for what it was like immediately, and instantly took it as proof of Dan Heng's identity as a Nameless. The validation of the Xianzhou is clearly a huge deal to him.

And Dan Heng plays it cool but like. I don't think he's actually much better JFKLASJDKL

The in-game Data Bank, which is supposed to be written and maintained by Dan Heng himself, has a pretty positive glowing review of the Galaxy Rangers.

And I feel the need to point out that like. The Galaxy Rangers are essentially a vigilante justice group..."group" being a pretty loose term, there isn't a whole lot of organization in there. Not everyone has a very good view of them because they're outlaws and there's a pretty wide and wild variety of individuals in the mix there, Boothill even confirms it as such.

And that archive entry is a hilariously stark contrast to the one for the Masked Fools, who Dan Heng does NOT seem to respect. So you can tell he puts a lot of his own opinion into the data and you can really see where his preferences lie KFDLAJFKLD

He does let his fanboy slip when Boothill first announces himself as a Galaxy Ranger though, just a little bit haha:

They're like the equivalent of when your favorite big name fandom person follows you back, you feel me fjkdjasflkdjskal

Which. I feel like it does make sense that he would really idolize the Galaxy Rangers and see them as heroes. Dan Heng is someone who was a victim of centuries of wrongful imprisonment and political power plays, and it would have been way worse had Jing Yuan not gone above the preceptors to protect him. He is someone that the system failed, and horrifically so. Of course he would like the idea of righteous heroes who stand for justice and travel the cosmos freely to help people.

And as @hydrachea, CEO of Dan Heng Enterprises and Super Genius with Giant Wrinkly Brain pointed out, this background DOES lay the foundation for Dan Heng to relate to Boothill a lot. You see this displayed beautifully in his Keeping Up With Star Rail video, where Dan Heng gets really protective of him, I adored it so so much. ♡

In it, Dan Heng not only comments that he originally came because he thought he was giving a presentation on how to be friendly with Boothill, but every time the IPC tries to paint him as some violent dangerous ruthless criminal, Dan Heng speaks up to explain his way of thinking and to defend him. It was really sweet!

And Dan Heng is protective of people anyway. He serves as the Guard of the Astral Express for a reason. He had nothing and no one before Himeko took him in, and now that he's found companions to love he is viciously defensive of them. You see it in the way he guards March 7th during fights on Jarilo-IV, in how he goes out of his way to bring important info to the trailblazer, in how he left the safety of the Express and infiltrated the Luofu because he was terrified he was going to lose them. But there's maybe a little extra layer of Understanding in the way he so persistently speaks up in Boothill's defense.

And I'm sure that this is a part of him that Boothill really admires, too, because Dan Heng also displays these instincts in Penacony. He makes the decision not just once, but twice, to use the Jade Abacus to save the Express Crew. And we know from Boothill's earlier reaction to it that like. The Jade Abacus is a Big Fuckin' Deal. It is something of immense value. Even with everything that's at stake, Boothill urges him to really make sure he wants to use it.

And this was something that really got me in the heart later, because! In Ena's Dream, Dan Heng once again decides to use the Jade Abacus, and. I'm not quite sure I can effectively put it in words, but there is something just so so sweet in the way that Boothill tells him no, Dan Heng should keep it. This is a get out of jail free card that could save his life down the line, he wants him to have it in case he finds himself in danger again later.

It really gives the feeling that Boothill actually wanted Dan Heng to not have to rely on this before, but there was no other way at the time. But now there IS something Boothill can do about it, and he wants to do something about it. A sorta-kinda "let me protect you this time"-ish feeling. If that makes any sense. He doesn't want Dan Heng to have to make that sacrifice.

Because I think Boothill would consider that a really admirable and respectable action, especially given his background. The IPC eradicated his homeplanet. He lost his parents, his siblings, his daughter, his home all in one fell swoop, and he has been on a fully dedicated revenge quest ever since. How could he not be a little awed by someone willing to give so much to protect his home and his family?

I think it's something the two of them understand in each other, because as it shows in the dialogue the first time Dan Heng decided to use the Jade Abacus, Boothill caught on immediately. He already knew what Dan Heng was planning before he even said so. And it's not even the first time he does that! Even as early as their initial entrance into the Reverie, Boothill is able to tell when Dan Heng is stressed, why he's stressed, and he backs off and gives him space without any fuss.

And it works! After the Express Crew are safe, they go from Dan Heng correcting him to more just kind of going with Boothill's flow, and I feel like this is a much better basis for their interactions.

Also I'm crying about Dan Heng blabbing that the trailblazer is a vessel of a Stellaron, gossipy little dragon fjdkasjfdklsaj

Like the two of them just GET each other! And so quickly and easily! It's ridiculous! Dan Heng is able to explain the methods behind Boothill's madness. Boothill is able to read Dan Heng like a book. They both had the same reaction to learning Acheron was a Self-Annihilator. They both really believe it's just fine and normal to have a weapon out if you don't trust someone yet- Boothill pulled his gun on Acheron the second he saw her, Dan Heng got his spear out and poked Sampo the first time he met him (valid). And they both act Like That because they're similar flavors of wary and cautious. They had to prove their identities to each other when they first met before either of them could relax.

They're both frank, and blunt, and will openly call shit out or question it when they see fit. They both believe in answering the call to action, and share a lot of their ideologies of The Hunt, like upholding justice and saving the innocent and protecting the weak. Boothill lives to fuck over the IPC and keep them from colonizing more planets like his, Dan Heng didn't even consider his own wants and asked to go to Edo Star to help the population there. They take their creeds seriously, and dedicate themselves to them, enough to be offended by imposters. Dan Heng dislikes Boothill claiming to be a Nameless, Boothill was literally hunting down Acheron for parading around as a Galaxy Ranger.

And all throughout 2.2, Boothill displays an immense knowledge of Paths and Aeons and even Emanators, and Dan Heng is a huge nerd an archiver and a collector of knowledge. The conversations these two could have!! They've both been to a lot of places and seen a lot of things, and I think Dan Heng especially would love listening to Boothill's stories and then adding them to the data bank. They can probably relate on rough travel, too- Boothill refers to the Astral Express as "bunkin' in luxury" and Pom-Pom once said Dan Heng was "used to sleeping on the rope." When March 7th takes the trailblazer to look for Dan Heng, she even phrases this as though he and Boothill have been talking together for quite a while!

Hell, even when they awaken in Ena's Dream, they arrive together:

They were together for almost the entirety of 2.2; literally the very first scene of it was their introduction. They only truly separated when Dan Heng went to help in the fight with The Great Septimus and Boothill to gather the Rangers (and then go shoot Aventurine full of holes fjkdlsajd) but! I'm really hoping we'll get to see more of them together in 2.3! They were a really cool duo, and it was so fun to watch them all through this update, I really want to see more of them now and explore their relationship dynamic more! ♡