I Want #narti To Stomp On Me.

# most powerful magic users

Veer Ghatotkach (1949)

Soudam Week - Day 7: illness (Hanahaki Disease)

Petunias have contradictory meaning for they represent resentment as well as the desire to spend time with a person. The meaning of sending petunias usually depends on the circumstances and relationship between the giver and the recipient.

Gundham Tanaka didn’t like people.

 They were untrustworthy, unworthy of being oh his presence. Him, the Great Gundham Tanaka, the Overlord of Ice, and future ruler of this world, was above mortals and their plights. Mortals! Bah! Always so dishonest and complicated.

Truly, Gundham was better off without them.

 Beasts, with their breathtaking simplicity, were far superior. And each one a fierce warrior for the Overlord of Ice to make an ally. Beasts listened and understood, while mortals always insisted on things like reason and reward. There was no true drive, no true passion in their lives.

And Gundham pitied them for it.

===

The Angel was kind

The Demon was not.

 Time and time again the Angel would shield him with her own body against the Demon’s assault’s. Protecting from the wrath of one she might've loved a different lifetime ago. And each time Gundham felt the most primal of emotions flood his being.

Rage.

 How dare such a scoundrel attack one as wonderful as the Angel? How dare such scum try to harm him, the Great Gundham Tanaka? How dare the whelp even breathe the same air as the two? But Gundham has been young then, not yet ready to challenge the Demon.

But that day came swiftly.

 Gundham has spend months training the lost hellhounds that wandered around his domain. Earning quite a few battle wounds in the process that the Angel fretted over, but he, himself, couldn’t bear to explain. But he was ready. So when the Demon came, roaring after him and the Angel, the Overlord of Ice was prepared.

Gundham was ready.

 The Demon’s blood, his blood, soaked the ground where he walked. But it was over. The barking, snarling, and struggling. It was all over. The Angel had blinked once, twice at the scene before her. But she was like Gundham in the end.

Unable to shed a single tear.

===

Years passed and so did the Angel.

 But her death, at the very least, had been peaceful. Leaving this wretched mortal realm surrounded by soft whiteness and a calm, soothing smile. Still, Gundham mourned. Mourned and cried.

Cried and mourned.

 Still, he was the Great Gundham Tanaka. He couldn’t stop in his path to rule this world. Not now. Not after everything. So Gundham dedicated everything he had into taming more hellish beasts, more warriors to fill his army.

More allies to fill his heart.

===

His dedication rewarded him.

 The mortals who ran the infamous “Hope’s Peak” saw fit to offer the future ruler of this world a place at their institution. Supposedly guaranteeing his success unpin graduation. Bwahaha!

Perfect!

 He, the Great Gundham Tanaka, would conquer any challenges thy dare stand in his way! The mortals among him would flee in terror at his prowess! Let pure pandemonium erupted before him! The Overlord of Ice would rise above it. He was invincible! Untouchable!

Immortal!

===

He had no idea.

 The Great Gundham Tanaka, even with his army of fierce warriors and all-seeing eyes, had no clue as to how the loud, brash mechanic with the serrated teeth and bright pink hair would factor so strongly into his fate.

They met at Hope’s Peak.

 And it was obvious then. The two hated each other. Mostly because of misunderstandings and partially because of childish stubbornness. But how was Gundham to know? Then of all moments.

That Kazuichi Souda would be the one to kill him.

===

Seasons changed and so did they.

 But with the passage of time, one thing remained constant. Ever present in everything. Death was all around him. It followed him, ever since vanquishing the Demon and letting go of the Angel. And it was the one thing even Gundham couldn’t conquer.

No matter how much he wished to.

 Death came, as it often did, for his warriors. Some leaving this realm after a long, blessed life and some dying in the heat of battling for their lives in accordance to Nature’s laws. But each time Death came regardless.

And Gundham mourned every single one.

 He willed the sky’s to thunder and burn and weep with every ounce of agony within in his frozen, aching heart. He willed the Earth to split and crumble beneath his clawed, grasping hands. He willed the very lives around him to twist and succumb to similar heartache.

Souda had found him like that once.

 The sky had obeyed his demands, letting loose a torrent of wanted onto this blasted realm and Gundham reveled in it. Standing in front of his beloved warrior’s grave under the onslaughts of ice cold tears from the heavens. And, as Overlord of Ice, such a thing had no effect on him. No matter how cold his skin became or how startling a blue his lips turned. He was fine.

But not to Souda.

 The mechanic had all but released an ear splitting shriek as he scolded him, him!, on staying out in the rain. But Gundham only ignored him, shoving off the heavy, calloused hand in his shoulder. Couldn’t someone as lowly as him understand that the Overlord of Ice wished to be-

Souda picked him up.

 Skin on skin. Arms around his waist. Chest against back. Gundham, naturally, shrieked and screamed. Fool! Did he not know his very touch was poisonous?! Did he not know that Death lives in his shadow?!

That he killed everything he touched?!

 But Souda, stupid, stupid Souda, never released him nor dropped him. Just pulled him up and away from the grave and into the barn. There it was dry. Almost comforting with the familiar warmth and smell.

But that didn’t stop the tears.

 Gundham hadn’t even noticed them, not at first. The rain had all but numbed the Overlord of Ice, ironic he knew. But that wasn’t exactly his priority right now. Not when he fought and flailed in Souda’s arms to get him off, to get those arms off of him. Before he saw, before Gundham’s own tears betrayed him. Though Souda didn’t let go until he dragged him to the center of the building.

Berating him.

 Him! The Great Gundham Tanaka! What right did he-What could he possibly-Why did he even-And just like that, Gundham broke down then. Succumbed to his own sobs on that barn room floor. Holding his head in his hands as the tears shook his shoulders and racked his body. Too tired to even listen. Damn it.

Damn it!

 Who was he to think that he could conquer Death? Even the Great Gundham Tanaka was slave to time and rot and ruin. No power of his could ever stop not. He couldn’t save anyone. Not his warriors. Not his army. Not himself.

Not the Angel.

 So this was agony? So this was despair? Dark Gods, Gundham never thought it would take him. Not like this, not in some rain-soaked barn while a hated classmate of his was standing above him. Looking down on him! The Great Gundham Tanaka, being looked down upon. Truly this was cause for tragedy. Truly this was-

Souda touched him.

 Not like the Demon used to. No...The way Souda touched him was gentler, kinder. Like the Angel. And, like the Angel, he called out his cursed name so softly. Souda’s hand heavy and clumsy on Gundham’s shoulder, but there. And when he looked up, there Souda was, standing not in triumph, but in concern. Sweet, dear concern for someone he hated.

 Someone who called him pathetic, someone who laughed at his fears, someone who-Souda sank down. The damp sawdust and hay underneath him giving way to his weight as the the mechanic sank down on his knees. Level to Gundham’s tearful form. And hugged him.

Embraced him.

 With that same dear look in his eyes and those arms around his shaking shoulders. Just like that, Souda pulled him close. Comforted him. It was in that moment, in that rain-soaked barn, that Gundham felt a...flutter in his heart.

A pain in his chest.

 A tremble, a tremor that riverbated throughout Gundham’s entire poisoned being. A single movement that shook him to the core. It was that moment that something took root in Gundham’s chest. Something digging and pinching and aching. Something that began to grow and fester in the aching cavity of his heart.

Something that felt familiar.

Something like love.

===

It happened after that.

 A week had passed in Gundham’s glory. Though, admitably, that week had been full of tension between himself and Souda. With neither bringing up the incident in the barn. The tension only increasing with every passing day, until the Overlord of Ice could take no more.

It was homeroom.

 Souda had just arrived, heading straight towards the Baby-Faced One and the Lucky One without so much as look in his direction. The morning’s light turning the choppy ends of his hair a bright, soft color. Glinting off his teeth, sharp as a knife.

 Gundham had planned to put that incident to rest. To tell the mechanic to just forget the breeder’s moment of weakness. To let whatever feelings they may have felt at the time to just die. And that’s when Gundham felt it.

A flutter, a tickle in his throat.

 And it didn’t go away. No, it stayed in his throat, persisting until Gundham was forced to cough into his hand. It wasn’t violent, but it was enough to rouse the four Dark Devas of Destruction from their resting place within the Angel’s scarf.

They were Gundham’s first witnesses.

 Some object was lodged in the breeder’s throat. Splattering onto his palm with a few hard coughs. Gundham’s chest burning in the aftermath. The Overlord of Ice looking into his palm, curious as to what in the name of-

A flower.

 A rumpled, spit-slicked, and sodden flower. Bright pink in color and drowning in a small dribble of Gundham’s spit. The Overlord of Ice stared at it, completely dumbfounded. What? What was this? Some sort of spell?

Some sort of curse?

 But Gundham never got the chance to act or speak on his shock, Ms. Yukizome fluttering in to begin the day. The breeder’s all-seeing eyes flickering over to where Souda had hastily taken his seat. Watching the slow slip of his dyed hair as it moved from his back to his front. The thin strands sparking in the air like single streams of light.

The color of petunias.

===

More flowers came.

 But none came as gently as the first. Pink petals and fuschia blooms and magenta buds and forest stems and apple green leaves. They all retched from Gundham’s mouth in due time.

Bloodied by his own innards.

 The breeder heaved them up by the dozen in his realm’s restroom. Clinging to the toilet with white knuckled hands and abright sweat-shining forehead. Gundham felt every scratch, every prick of those flowery blooms and every scrape of those leafy edges. They sliced down his throat. Starting and stopping. Moving and clogging.

Choking him.

 The bowl of water underneath him like some cheerfully macabre specticle. Gundham’s blood bright and staining to white porcelain. All while pink petals float calmly on the surface of the bloodied water. Lush blooms bobbing in the thickened water, enjoying a relaxing, gorey soak in a pool of watered down blood. Chunk of probably vital innards clinding to bright green leaves as they ferried across the vermillion surface. A bowl of red, dotted with green and pink. Pink? Pink.

Pink like someone’s hair.

 His stomach convulsed with the effort to get whatever was inside of him out of body. But Gundham was never quite able to do so. There was new weight to his chest, something wrapped around his lung and heart. Letting out a pained groan, Gundham slipped his from his crouched, agonized position. The cool tile underneath him offering no respite from the strangling feeling and steady drops of blood from his mouth.

The Devas shaking next to him.

 Of course they had stayed by his side throughout this entire ordeal, absolutely terrified for him. But there for him nonetheless. The Overlord of Ice clutched his sore stomach, drops of blood still speckling his mouth. Oh Dear Dark Gods.

Something was wrong with him.

===

It was called Hanahaki Disease.

 But Gundham had to find that out on his own. Perhaps the Timid One would’ve been helpful in diagnosing him with this...strange ailment. Perhaps he should’ve told someone about the many instances where the Overlord of Ice had to frantically rush to the nearest empty restroom to vomit up entire bouquets of pink, blushing flowers. Perhaps someone’s opinion on Gundham’s strange drive to keep those flowers close to him. To have them remain his and his alone. Perhaps someone could have helped him with this strange ailment.

But Gundham’s pride stood firm.

 He was the future of this world, the fiend who would conquer this planet. How was he supposed to do such great feats if he was unable to conquer this one silly sickness. No. Gundham needed no help, no assistance.

He needed no one.

 But the blood and flora just kept coming. His research had proposed some preposterous notion that this illness was brought by the feelings of an unrequited love. That, somehow, the notion that not having one’s feelings returned would be akin to Death itself. Having those afflicted by the disease slowly waste away while holding onto the despair of never having their feelings returned. Hmph.

How foolish.

 He was the Great Gundham Tanaka! The poisoned, fiendish being who was above such absurd notions. Him? Love? Ha! The very thought was intensely amusing, for there was  no one Gundham’s ice-cold heart beat for.

Souda’s laugh echoed throughout the hallway.

 The Ultimate Breeder had been walking back from another exhausting exercise of expelling bloody petunias when he heard it. Souda’s laughter was loud, often times brash. It was hard to miss. Especially like this, so, naturally, Gundham sought such a sound out. Naturally.

Obviously.

 The sound had come from a near empty study hall. Holding only the Sharp-Toothed one, the Baby-Faced One, and the Lucky One. The former two cluster near the from on the latter’s desk. Souda’s smile wide and teasing. Gundham stayed there.

Just watching.

“So Fuyuhiko...that dance is coming up…” The tone of his voice resonated with Gundham. ALluding to something that brought that warm, twisting sense of rising vomit in Gundham’s throat to come back. He even felt the gentle brush of those velvet petals against his throat. Faint and present, like Death.

But still he watched.

“And?! What are you trying to say here dumbass?”

“H-Hey! I just wanted to know if you were gonna ask Peko out!”

Gundham swallowed.

 The act of pushing down the rush of blood, bile, and blooms was made suddenly easier as the conversation progressed. The Overlord of Ice watching Souda shrink away from the gangster, the ghost of frightened tears in his usually striking eyes. Gundham’s fingers twitched, the thought of stepping into action moving his body for him. In urge that arose in a moment of weakness.

But he held back.

“P-Peko! What the fuck are you trying to suggest you oily son of a-”

The urge came once more.

“Oh, you should! Though the opinion of trash like me should never influence the opinion of Ultimates such as yourselves, it is a dear wish of mine to see just what sort of hope you and Peko would make toget-”

“S-Shut the fuck up C-Cloud-For-Brains!”

How curious.

 Was this something Gundham had missed? Had this type of...companionship always been possible with humans? Could he have been wrong about them all along? Souda, ever the quick recoverer, jumped rights back. Laughing at the gangster’s red, outraged face. Never once holding the other’s harsh words against him.

Gundham felt the blooms well up once more.

 Running out of that space, pressing his hands to his mouth, Gundham’s mind lingered on Souda’s sentiment. Comforting him in that barn, despite the harsh words they’ve previously shared. Taking Fuyuhiko’s temper in stride.

It puzzled him.

 Puzzled him more than the blood and flowers welling up in his mouth. Souda made it look so...easy. Even for someone so usually cowardly. In that case, shouldn’t such a thing be easy for him? Surely it would.

Surely.

 But then the blood came, just as Gundham tried to make his way down the stairs. It came violently. Bursting from his mouth in a heavy spray of carron and iron, despite the bandaged hands that had gripped his mouth shut. He collapsed like that, coughing and hacking. Membrane from the breeder’s shredded lungs splattering along the floor. The purple red color of a bruise. Pink, blood splattered petals floating away on streams of Gundham’s blood. Flowing down, down, down the path of red that dripped, dripped, dripped from step to step. Some fuchsia petals still fluttering in the air. Flipping this way and that. Flying far, far away from him. Going. Going.

Gone.

===

He was going with Sonia.

 Souda was going with the Dark Queen that that moral gathering with Sonia. The way his smile shone and the dazzling gleam to his eyes haunted Gundham. Souda was a nervous pile of anxiety, fretting about every detail of the fated night and trying his best to make everything perfect.

Gundham long forgotten.

 Gone was that moment of weakness, that clink in his armor at the barn. Gone were Gundham’s tears. Gone were Souda’s arms around him. Gone were all the things Gundham longed to...to…

He didn’t know.

He didn’t know anything anymore.

===

It was Souda.

It had always been Souda.

 How Gundham failed to realise that sooner, he didn’t know. Or, more accurately, his pride wouldn’t let him admit it. But the Ultimate Animal Breeder was far past the point of pride right now. Sonia had stopped by earlier, knocking on his door. The last of many visits to the threshold of his realm to inquire if he was sure that he wasn’t going to be in attendance at the dance. And the answer was always the same.

No.

 Not when Souda would be there. Not when Souda would be so busy with ensuring that tonight would be the perfect night for him and Sonia. Not when all  his adoration and attention would be focused on her. Not when he wouldn’t spare Gundham another glance.

Another embrace.

 So this was it. His life, so full of spilt blood, would end with it. Another round of hacking overtook the Overlord of Ice, making him retch whole blooms of soft, sweet pink blooms. Dying the sheets of his bed red. Gundham couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything except grip those bloodied blooms in hands. Because those, even as they killed him, were far more attainable than the person they were meant for.

Gundham groaned.

 The Devas had likely snuck out of his room by now. Probably trying to find someone, anyone to help. But there was only one person who Gundham would even consider giving this deadly blossoms to. And, unless their teeth flashed like knives and eyes sparked with genius, this parasite was Gundham’s. This gorey foliage was his. And his alone. They would have to rip it out of his lungs in his cold, dead body if anyone else wanted to take these flowers, these feelings, away from him. These feelings...these emotions that made petunias clog his throat and blood well up in his lungs, if Souda wouldn’t have them, then Gundham would just keep them. Keep them clenched in a bloodied fist, never to let go. Never to set the pink petals free. Because such was the nature of his unrequited, pathetic feelings.

And if they killed him, so be it.

 Though, the Overlord of Ice mused surrounded by his own blood and innards and foliage, he did have regrets. He regretted all the wasted time with the Angel. He regretted just how much time the Demon took from him. And he regretted all the moments he let slip by with Souda. Just how many times did Gundham have the chance to talk with with him? Just how many times did Gundham have the chance to befriend him?

Just how many times did Gundham miss his chance?

 Ah, well. The breeder exhaled wetly, a lone pink petal fluttering out of his red mouth. Flying up into the air only to flutter back to the ground. Dimly, Gundham could here frantic footsteps draw near. But he didn't care. Everything was so cold. The blood around him was so cold. His fingers were cold, freezing into their gnarled shape. It was cold. But those flowers were warm. They were soft and sweet smelling. Gundham liked them. They made him sleepy.

Very, very sleepy.

 The door thumped, as if someone was trying to get inside. But Gundham was too occupied with the flowers all around him, with the flowers making their way greedily up his throat. They were so pretty. He liked the color of them.

Pink.

Ok, Lotor but…

He acts like that Prince Charming guy from Shrek 2

I DARE you to tell me you don’t see it

Hey guys, I'm not dead. Only dead inside

101 #danganronpa would’ve been a better movie than the one about dotty dogs tbh.

I want to take a heaping batch of #shiro and spread it all over me like I’m that peanut butter baby. You know the one.

history : Bajirao  Mastani  

Mastani was born to Maharaja Chhatrasal, a Rajput king and his Persian Muslim wife Ruhaani Bai. In 1728, Muhammad Khan Bangash invaded Chhatrasal’s kingdom, defeated him and imprisoned his family. Chhatrasal secretly wrote to Bajirao requesting his help. But being occupied in a military campaign in Malwa Bajirao did not respond until 1729 when he marched on towards Bundelkhand. Ultimately Bajirao defeated Bangash. In gratitude, Chattrasal gave Bajirao the hand of his daughter Mastani. At the time, Bajirao was already married and monogamous by both nature and family tradition. He, however, accepted the marriage. in Pune, the marriage was not generally accepted because Mastani’s Muslim heritage. Because of his family’s intolerance of Mastani, Bajirao later built a separate residence for Mastani at Kothrud in 1734.

Bajirao’s love for his half-Muslim wife Mastani and neglect of first wife angered his mother, Radhabai. In deference to Radhabai, Bajirao’s brother, Chimajiappa, tried to send Mastani into exile. Bajirao’s son, Balaji, also tried to coerce Mastani into leaving his father, but she refused. Enraged by her growing influence on Bajirao Balaji had Mastani placed under house arrest for a time, while Bajirao was on military campaign.

Mastani was skilled in horse-riding, spear-throwing and swordsmanship and a talented dancer and singer.  She accompanied Bajirao on his military campaigns.

OH! Well, thank you @equalskiersten and @olkarianprincess for the chance to spread more of that quality Shidge content around. 

But be warned, my rating system is hella weird. (And a very long post ahead)

Black, Green and Everything in Between - By Diamond (I think they have a Tumblr, but I'm not sure where...)

Definitely the OG Shidge fanfic I think. Just about everyone who likes Shidge seems to have this on their list! And for good reason to, I'm a sucker for jealously and Pidge being treated good, so this fic is the best medicine after dealing with angst all day. 

Rating: Like having your favorite meal in your favorite coffee shop as you write/sketch for fun while catching your crush staring at you all puppy-eyed

Golden Madness - By Yours Truly (I SWEAR I’LL UPDATE THIS SOON MY DUDES) 

What can I say? It has Shidge, angst, MAJOR CANON DIVERGENCE LIKE HOLY CROW, angst, Lotidge, pretty dresses, angst, and music.

...did I mention angst?

Rating: You go to your crush’s wedding and the two of you share a look that would’ve been helpful before the whole “I Object!” thing. Yeah, too little, too late. You then proceed to get drunk off your teary butt.

Left Hand of the King - By @olkarianprincess (This fic or any of her other works tbh, it’s all amazing)

BLESS. THIS. FIC. Just - yes. A million times yes. Complete, wholesome, and just...I LOVE IT??? SO MUCH??? Also has Lotidge, so hopefully you like that. But, yes, this is a full 13 completed chapters and each one is glorious. The story, as a whole, is just really satisfying! 

Rating: Ditching some fancy pants party, shoes in hand, as you and your crush run through the sprinklers. Laughing and grinning like idiots even as your parents make offended gasping noises.

Nightmares in Arms - By running_with_luck (A oneshot that packs a punch!) 

I’m also?? Just a sucker for mutual comfort??? And quality love and support??? The angst in here just serves to make the comfort all the better and, as a whole, this fic brings a smile to my face every time I read it. 

Rating: Falling asleep on the couch as your crush pets your hair. Wearing your favorite sweater while rain pours down relentlessly outside. 

Hand-to-Hand Training - By ElfGrove (A shot of adrenaline in written form)

GIVE ME BAMF PIDGE OR GIVE ME DEATH! Death I say! Death! I dare you! Seriously though, I don’t really get to see a lot of Pidge kicking butt and taking names. And in this one she does both...to Shiro. Who DEFINITELY has a thing for girls who can kick his butt. The subtle feels are just too much for my heart to handle and I adore this fic with every fiber of my being. 

Rating: Walkin’ into the club with your favorite outfit on, Beyonce playing in the background,  and you look hot as hell. Which causes your crush to trip over their own feet and land directly into your awaiting arms. Let the swooning commence.

Lions Make Decent Wingmen - By @galacticlee (bc GOSH DARNIT WE NEED TO GET HER IN ON THESE THINGS)

Can I just say??? That??? Her art for this fic is gorgeous??? And??? You all need to see her Instagram??? But this fic is absolutely amazing. Still ongoing and well worth all the wait. The author has a really clear understanding of the characters. Its just so nice to see them portrayed so naturally and, generally, at ease. GOOD AND PURE AND WOULD DIE FOR.

Rating: First date at the movies. Really nervous but also really excited. Your crush tries to do the whole yawn-and-put-an-arm-around-you thing, but fails miserably. But the two of you laugh anyway and settle for holding buttery popcorn hands instead.

Thank you for sticking with me and hopefully you find something you like @grbgcn2! 

Question: Voltron

Can someone recommend me some Shidge fanfics? Please and thank you!

Hey

Chapter 19 will be posted tomorrow