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grandlinedreams · 6 months

Note

helloooo!! i was wondering if you could write a story about how law and the reader had a fight, but the reader feels really bad about it,, so they take a hit for him in an battle and almost die ?!!

i understand if you don’t feel comfortable with writing this,,, have a good day/night !!🫶🏻

OUGH I LOVE THAT TROPE TOO GOD LET'S BRING THE PAIN TRAIN but also love putting Law in situations. like bro if you didn't want to don't be so blorbo (borrowing a lil bit from one of my favorite books bc it has a scene like that and OOF)

[heads up!: angst, blood/injury]

There's blood on his hands.

Thick and smelling of copper, it covers his tattoos, his fingertips, his palms. When he looks at his reflection, he distantly notes that it's spattered against his neck and his shirt, too.

There's so much of it, and none of it is his.

"Captain?" Bepo's voice is small and hollow, uncertain as he watches Law sway a little at the sink before he turns the handle and begins scrubbing at his hands. "Are you okay?"

Law wants to laugh. What a stupid question ㅡ but he isn't sure how to answer. Does Bepo mean physically? Mentally? Emotionally? He scrubs at his nails, watches his skin tint pink from the force. Watery red swirls down the drain. "I'm fine, Bepo."

They both know he's lying.

ㅡ

"I'm telling you, this is a bad idea!" Your eyes are narrowed, blazing with fury as you jab your finger into Law's chest for emphasis. "You know better than this. There's no way this will end well, Law. You're going to get someone killed!"

Law's temper flares, and he reaches to bat your hand away from him before he steps around you. "If you have such a problem with the way I lead this crew, then maybe you shouldn't be part of it."

Law won't let anyone else change your bandages.

He winds and unwinds them, an endless loop with peeks at skin knitted back together with thick black thread. His hands ache with the memory of sewing you back together, knowing he'd been actively trying to wrench death's bony fingers from around you.

Pulling back, his gaze drifts over the bandages to the steady rise and fall of your chest. If there's a god who takes requests, he's ready to offer up a plea for you to make it out of this. You have to. You need to.

He still has to apologize.

ㅡ

It takes almost a week before you open your eyes. It's the twitch of your fingers that alerts him first, the shift in your breathing ㅡ and then you're staring at him. Your expression is blank and your eyes are still a little cloudy from medicated sleep, but you're awake. You're alive.

There are a thousand things that Law could say and should, but what tumbles from his lips is nowhere close to any of them.

"You're an idiot."

You blink at him. "Your bedside manner is terrible," you croak, hissing when pain lances up your left side like a wildfire. "What happened? Did I get in a fight with a sea king and lose?"

Law doesn't laugh at your attempt at humor, terrible as it is. He lets his gaze drift, assessing your injuries from minor to major, as he's done for days now. He doesn't want to look at the biggest one, the one that almost took you from him ㅡ so he stares at the bandaid on your cheek. "You were right," he finally says. "About that informant."

You blink. "Oh." You try to move a little, trying to see what else hurts. "Could you repeat that? It's not every day that I hear you admit that I was right about something."

His eyes narrow as his temper flares. "Don't joke," he hisses, "you almost died because you just had to get in the way."

He's doing this all wrong, he knows that ㅡ but he can't quite control his tongue because somewhere he's still a child demanding to know why someone is willing to risk their life for him.

"You're right," you say, and when he looks up he finds you watching him, expression neutral. "I shouldn't joke. I'm sorry."

Law studies you for several long minutes before he speaks again. "Why did you do it?"

"What do you mean?"

His eyes narrow. "Don't play dumb, [Name]. You know what I mean."

You stare at the ceiling, counting the rivets. "Because the Heart Pirates are nothing without our captain," you say, "because we can't afford to lose you. And...I needed to apologize."

Law stares.

"...Apologize." He hears you mumble softly, paler than he's ever seen you as he gathers you up, clutches at you like that alone will stop you from bleeding to death before he ever gets a chance to try and save you.

"So you almost got yourself killed in order to apologize to me? That'sㅡ"

"Something an idiot would do," you interrupt. "Good to know I'm doing what's expected of me."

"Youㅡ" Law shuts his mouth with the click of teeth, jaw taut as he tries his best not to blow up on you before his shoulders sag with a sigh. "Just concentrate on healing. And don't pull a stupid stunt like this ever again." He reaches up, giving the brim of his hat a nervous tug. "I don't like almost losing crewmates."

He doesn't like almost losing you.

"Does that mean I'm still part of the Heart Pirates?" He's confused by your question before the crux of this entire ordeal comes back to him ㅡ the argument the two of you'd had. He doesn't know if you mean to turn the knife, but you do as you repeat his words to him. "If you have such a problem with the way I lead this crew, then maybe you shouldn't be part of it."

His stomach twists. "You're still part of this crew," he reassures you, "which is why I'm telling you that you're not allowed to pull stupid stunts like this again. Am I clear?"

Your eyes lock. "Yes, captain."

The expression on his face softens. "Good."

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #ㅡanswered.#anonymous #–ml: law.

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alovesongtheywrote · 6 months

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i feel like everyone's gonna be asking for this but i'm gonna need a nightmare academia part 912828277 if that's how long it'll take for those two to finally kiss

♥ Summary: will you settle for them very briefly holding hands? in this chapter of nightmare academia, reid and the reader shut down a party and lie to the police. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: the reader cries over the two-headed calf poem, spencer wants to throw himself out a window, the cops show up and. are cops. discussions of sex, drug use and alcohol consumption in passing, and i think that's it?

♥ A/N: ough, this is gonna be the last happy chapter for a while- but it isn't gonna be sad in the way you're expecting :/

♥ Word Count: 3341

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

So. You were right. Reid’s friends wanted you to fuck- and they weren’t the only ones. They weren’t the only ones by a long shot.

Since the first bet had been placed, the betting pool on whether or not you and Reid were doing it had only grown. There were more things to bet on now, too- who topped, who bottomed, whether the two of you used handcuffs from Reid’s FBI days, etc. Your students were degenerates.

Your co-workers were running their own bets. Professors Evans and Peters had a running bet on whether or not the whole affair was a friends with benefits thing. Other professors made a game of seeing how many times a day you and Reid would visit each other’s offices.

The head of the criminology department, Professor Belker, assumed the two of you had some sort of secret relationship- and she was generally fine with that. She just wished you and Reid wouldn’t cause so many disturbances about it.

About a week after the George Michael incident (which only ended after you and Reid got someone to smash the musical mechanism) you and Reid were called into Professor Belker’s office for a meeting about your behaviour.

The meeting took place later in the evening. Reid arrived fifteen minutes early. You arrived five minutes late. You were also crying.

Upon seeing you, your co-workers stood. Concern rose in Belker’s chest, but panic rose in Reid’s. You were crying. You shouldn’t be crying. Reid decided there and then that he didn’t like seeing you cry.

“Professor (L/N)? Is everything okay?” Belker asked as you took a seat next to Reid.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Professor Reid just put that one poem about the two-headed calf in my office.”

It had been a prank- just a prank to lower your mood. He knew that the poem would upset you, but it wasn’t supposed to do this. You weren’t supposed to cry-

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be fine in like-” you checked your wrist. When you noticed your lack of watch, you grabbed Reid’s wrist instead, “Five minutes.”

“Reid.”

Spencer had heard that tone before- it was the one Hotch used when he got a little too invested in cases, or when he acted out of line and spit hard facts at local cops.

“I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you-”

“Reid, it’s fine, I swear, I just-” you sniffed, “The cow is just a baby, you guys. As he stares into the sky, there are twice as many stars as usual. No matter how many times I read that damn thing, I always end up crying. I don’t know why.”

You were trying to be professional, but it was really hard. That poem is so fucking sad.

“Did- did you know that crying has a self-soothing effect? It activates your parasympathetic nervous system which helps you to relax-”

“Reid, please-” Belker held up a hand, to stop him, but you held up a hand to stop her.

“No,” you took a deep breath, “Let him talk, I brought this on myself. Besides, it’s helping.”

Spencer perked up at the instruction. He quickly looked to his superior for permission, but before could even begin to nod her consent, he was spouting off facts about tears in a way that only Spencer Reid could. He didn’t stop until there was a smile on your face.

He smiled back.

“Well, now that you’ve calmed down, can we move on to the true purpose of this meeting?” Belker raised her eyebrow. She had posed her words as a question, but you both knew that she was making a statement.

“Yes, we can, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, just- maybe don’t read that poem during any classes.”

You tapped at your chair sheepishly, “Absolutely.”

Belker nodded at you and drew in a long, slow breath, “Now, I understand that the two of you have a… unique working relationship.”

She paused. In the space she left behind, you and Reid nodded.

“Now, this is fine. Whatever is going on between you is none of my business. As long as everything is reported to HR in an appropriate and timely manner, it doesn’t matter to me. With that said,” the woman leaned forward, eyebrows rising again, “I need to be sure that the two of you can work together- without disturbing the student body at large.”

“Of course we can, I apologize for previous inconveniences,” Reid kept his voice calm, though internally, he kinda wanted to fling himself out the window- it would spare him of any and all future embarrassment. It might also spare him from making you cry again.

“I apologize also- and I would like to make it known that I didn’t know the George Michael music wouldn’t stop. The mechanism was supposed to shut off once the cabinet closed, I don’t know what-”

Belker gave you a look that stopped you in your tracks.

“Again, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just as long as the two of you can-”

Then, from the distance- a funky pop beat cut off the distinguished professor halfway through her sentence. The song was loud enough to make you jump, but quiet enough that you couldn't quite make out what it was.

Belker rose from her desk and turned her gaze to the window, glaring off into the night. You followed her gaze. There, standing out in the middle of the darkened campus, was a rainbow glow of light. It radiated out from one of the frat buildings. If you focused, you could hear the cheers of drunk students echoing off the various buildings and into the dark.

You expected Belker to give an exhausted sigh, or to roll her eyes at the nature of college kids, but when she turned, a smile lit up her face.

“This is the perfect opportunity. (L/N), Reid, I want you to take care of this.”

“Excuse me?” you asked, tilting your head. Belker ignored your question.

“Professor Reid, you have a history with law enforcement, yes?”

Spencer nodded, not saying a word. Belker’s smile grew, reaching her eyes and setting tiny fires inside them- or maybe that was just the reflection of the lights outside.

“Perfect. If the two of you can take care of this without incident, then I’ll know for sure that the two of you can work together, and no one will have to be moved to a different department.”

“Was that on the table?”

“Don’t mind that now. Just go deal with this before someone in the neighbourhood calls the police.”

It was a valid concern. You stood quickly, giving your superior a two-fingered salute. Reid followed behind you with less enthusiasm. Once the two of you were out of her office, Belker grinned to herself. Was this whole thing an effort to make you and Reid go out to a place that was not college? Perhaps. Whether or not it was, that was something she would keep to herself.

You and Reid wandered through the darkened campus side by side, heading to the rainbow-coloured lights of the frat house. Honestly, they were pretty hard to miss- and even if you had, you could always follow the sound. Music blared, echoing in the air with the excited shouts of students. You still couldn’t make out the song’s lyrics. At that point, you were pretty sure they were Swedish.

In opposition to the noise of the party, you, Spencer, and the rest of the campus were mostly silent. Your footsteps echoed off the various buildings. The pavement before you was illuminated by shitty outdoor lights, the rainbow light from the frat house, and the few classroom windows that remained lit at this hour.

Your tears had long since dried, but your skin still felt a little tacky in the light evening breeze. Beside you, Reid’s gaze was glued to the ground. He had been silent since he made his apology, and you were mostly fine with that. In your opinion, there wasn’t much to talk about.

“I’m sorry I made you cry.”

Apparently, you were wrong. “Hey, don’t mention it. You fixed me, remember?” you gently rammed your shoulder against his, “All your crying facts made things better. Besides, I’m gonna get you back for it. That’s a promise.”

“Good.”

When you turned to face him, he had a small smile on his face. You counted that as a success. You shifted your gaze back to the pavement in front of you, walking with an extra spring in your step.

“Do you think Belker was serious about making one of us change departments?” he asked.

“Probably not. But if she was, you don’t have to worry. I’m the one that would have to move.”

“Oh?” Spencer raised an eyebrow. He knew about your degrees. He knew you were a good professor. He just didn’t know why you were so confident that you would be the one to switch departments.

“Mhmm. You have how many years of experience in law enforcement? A million? Two million?”

“Hey, I’m not that old-”

“You dress like you’re that old. Seriously. I can imagine you teaching dinosaurs about the concept of psychopathy. I’m sure they’d all come away much smarter.”

Reid paused before letting out a very confused, “Thank you?”

“Don’t mention it.”

The two of you walked in silence for a few moments before Reid turned to face you again, “For what it’s worth, you could teach anything. You could teach the phone book and your students would learn something.”

“So could you. Quick, give me a fact about the phone book.”

He didn’t even hesitate, “The first phone book was published in 1878- hey, wait-”

“See? Honestly, if they let you, you could probably do both our jobs and teach a course about the phone book.”

“I doubt that. Besides, if anyone were to teach a course about a book, wouldn’t it be the person with a doctorate in English?”

“Don’t accuse me of being literate. Besides, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m kind of dumb. I got into teaching by mistake. Honestly, I kind of got my doctorates by mistake. So if one of us is going to teach a course about a phone book-”

“Wait, what do you mean you got them by mistake?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t really- it didn’t feel like I put in the same amount of effort as everyone else. It just kind of happened to me,” you stopped walking, “Anyway. Here’s the source of the noise.”

On your left, the frat house stood in all its rainbow glory. Spencer was so invested in your conversation that he had almost missed it.

“So,” you leaned towards him slightly, just to make sure he could hear you, “How do you want to do this?”

“Should we find someone and ask them to turn the music down?”

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “You can try that. I’m just gonna turn the music down myself.”

Before he could stop you, you had already disappeared, vanishing behind the massive doors of the house and leaving Spencer alone and out of his element. He wasn’t alone for long. About two minutes after you left, a chant rose from inside the house. At first, he couldn’t quite make it out, but then he heard it clearly-

The second you got inside, you felt the overstimulation starting to creep in. There were bodies everywhere. The stench of alcohol and weed hung in the air like a cloud of smog. It was bright- far too bright, and the strobe effect that the lights took on was almost enough to trigger an epilepsy attack. The music was deafening, but you could somehow hear snippets of conversation over it as you wandered through the house.

“Oh, they’re totally fucking.”

“Hey man, pass the chips!”

“WHERE IS MY BOOOONG?”

“Don’t speculate on them, they’re your professors!” that was Opal’s voice.

“Let’s stay in the building. It’s too fuckin cold outside.”

“It’s fall. What did you expect?”

“I don’t know, man. The elf subplot in those books is so fucking weird.”

“Dude, you wouldn’t even have to pay me to fuck him. Professor Sexy is just that- Professor Sexy.”

“He looks like a long Victorian child, dying from the plague.”

(Technically, if he were Victorian, it would be tuberculosis. You kept the thought internal and continued to search for the speakers.)

“Dude, I got pulled over the other day and I hadn’t done a damn thing wrong. Why? Oh, you already know why.”

“Fuck the police!”

The sound was small- and it was so loud in the room that you assumed if you repeated it, no one would hear you. Your opinion would be lost among a thousand screaming voices.

So, you said it.

“Fuck the police.”

Within seconds, the house devolved into chaos. Kids were standing on tables and couches, doing the worm and grinding on each other, all while yelling, “Fuck the police.”

By the time you found the speakers, you were laughing too hard to properly turn the music down.

So at first, you turned it up.

Outside, Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose. This had to be your payback- your revenge for him making you cry. Honestly, he wasn’t even upset. Just impressed. Then he heard the sirens. Blue and red lights flashed against the house, against the other buildings on and around the campus. Someone had called the police.

Students swarmed out of the building, running across the campus and back to their dorms with bongs, beers, and snacks in hand, all while chanting, “Fuck the police.”

Spencer didn’t see your face among the crowd. As the officers stepped out of their cruiser, their faces red with emotion at the chant, Spencer darted into the house. He slipped between students, searching the faces that passed him for you.

He used his height to his advantage. It helped.

When he found you, you were slumped over a speaker, cackling so hard that you couldn’t stand straight. Your face lit up when you saw him. Spencer could feel something warm fill his chest, and he tried very hard to kill it, just as you tried very hard to school your expression back to something less luminous.

You both failed.

“Are you hearing this Reid? I didn’t even plan it, they just started saying, ‘Fuck the police.’”

“That’s great, that’s so cool, the cops are here.”

In less than a second, the smile dropped from your face. When you spoke again, the joy had been stripped from your voice. You sounded terrified.

“What?”Without another word, Reid grabbed your wrist and pulled you outside. There, you watched as the police tried their very best to stop any students they could. They didn’t manage to catch many- they did, however, manage to grab Opal.

You watched as one of the cops grabbed her arm, her face screwing up in a wince at his grip. Her braids flew out behind her as the officer pulled her closer. You jumped down the stairs, practically running towards your student. Without a word, Spencer followed you.

The cop saw you coming. Opal saw you, too. He let her go, and she ran towards you, stopping a few feet ahead.

“Are you okay?” you asked, just brushing the top of her shoulder with your fingertips in an effort to keep her steady, “Is everything okay? Can you get back to your dorm safely?”

She nodded at you, quickly reaching up to pat your hand.

“Okay, go. Don’t be afraid to call campus security.”

Like a flash, the girl was off, racing towards her dorm. When you turned back, Reid was staring at you.

“What?” you asked, pulling your arms across your chest protectively.

“It’s nothing.”

The cop- the one who had grabbed Opal so harshly- did not agree with that statement.

“Just what do you think you’re doing? I could bring you in on obstruction of justice!”

“Shutting down this party,” you answered, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Responding to a noise complaint,” the officer spoke to you like you were stupid, “I was going to apprehend that subject for questioning. Can you not smell the illicit substances?”

“Okay, well, she’s gone now. And the source of the noise has clearly gone silent. The party has dispersed, so it looks like you won’t have to apprehend anyone.”

You were right. The campus had gone dead silent. Someone had shut off the lights, too, leaving you, Reid, and the cops with only the shitty campus lights and the blue and red glow from the police cruiser.

Still, the cop glared at you, “And what do you know about police work?”

“Well, y’know. I just have doctorates in criminology and law. No big deal.”

The man looked you up and down, clearly judging you, “I have a hard time believing that.”

“Why is that?” Reid stepped forward, putting himself between you and the officer, “Dr. (L/N) is well respected in their field. They’ve written numerous in-depth papers on the benefits and downsides of various policing policies and criminal justice strategies. Their conclusions are always brilliant, and your field would improve if officers like you would bother to examine their research.”

A blush crept onto your face as you listened to Reid. Did he really think so highly of you? Of your work?

“If you ask me,” the cop spoke again, “All you academics are a bunch of useless degenerates. I have half a mind to-!”

“OH MY GOD, YOU’RE THAT FBI GUY!!” the cop’s partner cut him off, “You were on the team that took down The Silencer!! And the Seattle Strangler!! Oh, I have so many questions.”

Beside you, Reid noticeably tensed up in discomfort. Without thinking about it too much, you grabbed his hand.

“Unfortunately, Dr. FBI guy is currently suffering from a bout of retrograde amnesia- sadly, he remembers nothing from his FBI days. If you want your questions answered, I recommend contacting Derek Morgan, he’s lovely to criminal justice students!”

You pulled Reid away before either cop could respond to your final cry of, “Have a nice night!”

Neither you nor Spencer realized you were still holding hands until you reached the main building. Until then, his long fingers sat intertwined with yours like they belonged there.

Your face burned as you pulled away from him. In the quiet of the atrium, you both fell silent. The only sound was the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above.

“I fucking hate fluorescent lights,” you weren’t sure why you said it. It really came out of nowhere, and you were just starting to regret it when-

“Really? So do I. That's why I can’t stand hospitals.”

“Oh, I get that.”

The two of you smiled. You had probably agreed on things before, but for some reason, this felt like the first time.

“Hey, thanks for having my back earlier,” you crossed your arms and swayed back and forward slightly.

“Ah, it’s no problem. I meant it.”

Heat rose to your face again, but before you could ask him if he really did mean it, he was speaking again.

“Thanks for getting us out of there when you did. I’m not in the mood to answer questions about grisly murders right now.”

“Damn it,” you grinned, “I was just going to ask about the worst cases you’ve seen. Oh well, I’ll leave it for another night.”

“I appreciate your sacrifice.” “My sacrifice? It’s basic decency, Spencer.”

The smile on his face matched yours.

Meanwhile, back at Quantico, Penelope Garcia was not smiling. In fact, she was grimacing. She had accidentally gazed upon some gorey case details and it had kind of ruined her night- at least, it had until she saw just where the murders had taken place.

She dialled a number into her phone- Morgan picked up on the first ring.

“What’s up, baby girl? Do we have a case?”

“We do! And you’ll never guess where.”

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #x reader #nightmare academia

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fumifooms · 9 months

Text

This chapter was very interesting, even if it was mostly set-up. Besides learning the new girl’s name and getting confirmation that she just get kicks from playing with people, the most insightful part was definitely seeing Asa and Yoru’s reaction to the fame.

We see that Asa feels happy over the fame, even if she denies it, and even Yoru admits that it feels soothing, like a need being met, fulfilling. This isn’t surprising at all, after all the whole of Yoru’s goal is to become relevant again, for people to fear her once more, to know of her, and she’s insecure over being called dumb and whatnot: she craves recognition, wants power so she can make people see her wether it be through inspiring awe or inflicting suffering and destruction. Asa has struggled a lot with feeling like she was invisible, or worse, being seen and getting negative attention, being bullied and judged and seen as dumb, annoying, ugly, boring, useless, someone who always messes up and can’t do anything right, worthless. She is afraid of the spotlight, but we’ve seen that she wants it as well, notably inside the aquarium, in that blissful moment when everyone was cheering her for having her phone. So of course, getting such widespread attention, praise, validation, when she hadn’t even intended for it, when she was just being herself and doing her own thing, it’s like being accepted for once. Being seen, and being loved, not only from a small group like a class but on a wide scale.

Of course, for both of them, such recognition and fame is only a substitute for meaningful human relationships, and it can’t replace those. I think it’s actually very lucky that Asa and Yoru have each other currently, it’s good to be reminded that for how much Asa is alone and isolated currently, she was so even more before Yoru, and Yoru similarly doesn’t seem like she had anyone, rotting away i alleyways losing strength more and more over time. Asa seems to want to keep a cool head over the fame to be self-righteous, but is it more because she wants to keep a collected appearance or because she truly doesn’t want to be sidetracked and be swept away?

Either way, I think it’s interesting that she recenters herself by reminding themselves that she’s doing it for Chainsaw Man. In a way, her goal then is something like a human relationship like I mentioned. Not that I think she thinks she’d get to get closer to Chainsaw Man or something, but that she’s motivated by something akin to selflessness, for someone that means a lot to her. A lot to Yoru too. Yoru sees Chainsaw Man as the one who took away her recognition, who stole her thunder, by eating atomic bombs out of existence, meanwhile Asa sees Chainsaw Man as one of the first people who saw her, who talked to her at her lowest and looked at her at her filthiest, and decided that she was worth something, worth protecting. I’m getting sidetracked here but ough!! Let’s just hope Asa doesn’t lose sight of that interpersonal relationship that he inspired her to pursue, gave her the courage to do so, because of easy and fickle validation from fame, is what I’m trying to say.

On Denji’s end, things seem to keep getting worse, even as they… Kinda get better? It turns out the woman is an ally and not an enemy, but Denji seems disappointed by their fight being discontinued, losing the rush he’s so acquainted to. He can’t be Chainsaw Man anymore, right, but he could still fight as Denji, except… It’s not necessary, he’s protected and people have it covered. He loses a possible love interest and enemy as she turns out to be something more like a colleague if anything, their relationship becoming professional and distant by nature, himself making a comment about that. She says that she likes/admires him because he’s Chainsaw Man and Denji is stunned, is it because that attention is a crumb of recognition, recognition that he used to be center stage for all the time just not long ago? Or is it because he’s "Chainsaw Man" in her eyes, because even as she speaks to him the crumbs of validation are directed at Chainsaw Man and not Denji, because he lost the opportunity to have a genuine connection as himself. Fame gives and even as it does, it takes away.

It’s very possible that Denji feels jealous of Asa in the posters scene. Not only does she get to fight devils and do what he’s not allowed to do anymore, but she also gets to do it with her name and her face public. While he was told times and times again that he couldn’t have his identity be public for his safety, Asa gets to do it freely wothout repercussion (thus far), she gets to be liked as herself. But moreso, I feel like the scene’s about loss. With Asa rising up in fame, Denji will have to keep hearing about her and her exploits, not only as a reminder of not being able to be Chainsaw Man anymore but also a reminder of the girl he liked that he had to dump. He couldn’t keep Chainsaw Man, and he couldn’t keep Asa either. Things have possibly never been more normal for Denji’s daily life, and yet it is utterly miserable.

#Chainsaw man #csm manga spoilers #csm chapter 138 #Asa mitaka #yoru #Quick chapter analysis #Idk if i’ve said anything that hasn’t been yet tbh #Character analysis #Denji #he’s here too ig #Fumi rambles

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mychlapci · 4 months

Note

okay so i don't know if this is gonna make a lick of sense but for the past three days i've had nothing on my mind but rodimus with a bigger than average anterior node

every single time he walks around it rubs against the inside of his modesty panels and it keeps swelling up with energon and then it creates a feedback loop that makes him constantly horny because of how good the smooth metal of his panels feels against the sensative nub of his node

maybe he gets it pierced and the metal of the piercing just increases the ever growing feedback loop and he just spends his days constantly horny if he's got his panels closed

ough modesty panels being a suggestion rather than a requirement on the lost light because roddy doesn't wanna be unbearably horny all the damn time with no way to blow off all the charge but the new rules regarding modesty backfires because bots keep cornering him in the hallways or on the bridge to rub at his node and after playing with it for a while they leave to get back to whatever they're doing and poor roddy is left pent up and drooling from how good it feels to have people rubbing at his anterior node with their rough fingers

magnus hooks up a chain to his piercing and a little device that shocks his node whenever rodimus starts slacking on his datawork and roddy gets so turned on from the electricity that when magnus comes into his office to check on him, he finds rodimus slumped over his desk, a datapad in one servo and the other frantically fingering his node and tugging on the chain as the device keeps shocking him. magnus pulling him into his lap and cranking the device all the way up to the highest setting and roddy seizes up and cums so hard he bluescreens because this is the first time since the lost light took off that he's had an overload because everyone keeps edging him by toying with his oversized node. it's like a fun little toy for the crew to play with, like a stress button that just so happens to come with a captain that squeaks and squeals whenever you pinch or pull on the squishy button that sticks out of his valve

oh maybe combined with boobs out roddy's got really sensitive nipples too. megatron gets them pierced because "oh they'll look so nice rodimus, very befitting of a prime" and while he says it as an offhand joke after they frag, when rodimus shows up to his next shift with panels and chestplates wide open and a series of pretty crystal flowers attached to a bunch of chains that crisscross from his nipples and around his hips and finally latched onto the piercing on his node megatron certainly isn't complaining

ough minimus slipping himself under rodimus desk and sucking on his node for hours as a form of encouragement and roddy barely lasts one hour before he's a sobbing, drooling mess.

swerve sets him up in a glory hole at the bar and mechs get the opportunity to frag all his holes and if they pay a little extra they can set off a super strong vibrator magnitised onto roddy's node and only the spikes in his intake muffle the screams that he lets out whenever the vibrator gets turned on

sorry for the long ask, i just think rodimus deserves to have a big sensitive node that gets played with <3

-burnt ice anon

t-dick Rodimus hell YES. This is so fucking good and now it's living in my mind too...

Rodimus' node being so big he can't keep it in his panels, having to walk around the ship with his pussy completely bare, which turns out to be a problem because people just won't stop touching it. And he can't even bring himself to stop them because it feels so damn good to be pushed against a wall, knees buckling while one of his crew rubs him almost to completion. Everytime someone corners him he lets them pinch and squeeze his node in the hope that they'll let him finish this time.

People sitting down next to Rodimus at the bar and casually lowering a hand between his legs, playing with his fat node until there's lubricants dripping down his seat. After they've finished their drink, they just leave Rodimus there with his legs spread and node twitching, ready to get idly played with by someone else.

mhmmm Rodimus with a piercing on his node and a chain connected to it. Sometimes Magnus pulls him around by the chain, torturing his poor pussy but it's the only way to get him to go to the bridge when he's slacking off…. Rodimus suddenly cumming all over himself in the middle of the hallway while he's being pulled forth by the chain, stumbling behind Magnus, begging him to stop and give him a while to recover but Magnus is too done with his shit, and just tugs on hs node harder.

Roddy getting his node played with and begging them to put their spike inside, but they refuse, bullying his pretty clit until he's a panting mess and his valve is clenching around nothing. Perhaps he ends up having his spike sheath locked and the only way he can overload now is with his node... (not to push on my newly discovered virginity kink but… Rodimus still having his seals in when he's captaining the lost light. He only ever gets his node played with, tight little hole remaining untouched while his clit is abused and bruised repeatedly throughout the day…)

#valveplug #OKAY #okay #no actually. i think i hauve covid #overstimulation #t-dick rodimus

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rising-volteccers · 4 months

Text

So this is just a self indulgent piece exploring a silly idea I had, where Friede latches on to the closest warm object when he's out of it. Thanks to @gem-in-the-horizon for giving me the idea to write up a sort of 5+1 piece and for inspiration on some of the scenes written here! I decided to fully embrace the self indulgence by framing some parts from the perspective of polycule Volt Tacklers (a ship between Friede, Orla, Mollie and Murdock) + a bit of Friede being a dad towards Roy haha!

Oh and Amethio gets to suffer a little too. Anyway, hopefully it's an enjoyable read! Spoilers for HZ033-HZ034.

Series: Pokemon Horizons

Characters: Friede, Ludlow, Orla, Mollie, Murdock, Roy and Amethio

---

Ludlow was no stranger to how unpredictable the seas could be. Seeing a smattering of gray clouds in the distance, he knew it was time to leave. While it was a shame to cut their fishing trip short, Ludlow preferred to be on land when the storm inevitably hits.

“Huh? We're heading back already, Gramps?” Friede questioned once he stored away his fishing rod.

“Mmhmm. The weather's changing. No sailor wants to be out on stormy seas if they could help it,” Ludlow explained, shuffling his way past Friede towards the helm.

“It's going to storm? Doesn't look like it.”

“Hohoho. You best not underestimate nature.” Ludlow’s hands were on the wheel. He lifted his head, peering at the clouds slowly encroaching. After a beat of silence, he opted to release his trusty Quagsire.

“We might need your help soon, my friend,” Ludlow spoke to his Quagsire. The amphibious Pokemon waddled past Friede who joined Ludlow by the helm.

“Is it really going to get that bad?” Ludlow caught the undercurrent of worry in his voice. He turned to look over his shoulder, his thick mustache lifting alongside the smile he flashed towards Friede.

“Don't worry. I'll make sure we get back to shore safely.”

True to Ludlow's claim earlier, they were met with rough, choppy waves once the storm fully rolled in. He masterfully steered the Asagi–with Quagsire’s aid in guiding through larger waves–back to Porto Marinada.

Once he docked the Asagi by the main port, only then did Ludlow release his hands from the steering wheel. Shoulders slumped alongside his soft sigh, it took several seconds for him to recall Friede's presence.

Looking behind him, Ludlow spotted his young charge huddled by the corner, knees drawn to his chest with his arms wrapped around them. It didn't take much for Ludlow to realize that this was possibly a terrifying experience for him. They were never out on the seas with anything less than perfect weather before this after all.

Feeling his heart twinge with concern, Ludlow shuffled his way towards Friede. He gently placed a hand on the younger man’s shoulder.

“Friede… it’s alright. We're back–ough!?” Ludlow's eyes briefly flew open when Friede's arms suddenly wound up around his small frame. Pulled against his chest, Ludlow didn't even think about struggling once he noticed the light trembles.

Ludlow relaxed his body to make it a bit more comfortable for himself. He raised a hand to gently pat Friede's back, offering quiet assurances for however long it took for him to calm down.

–

When Orla poked her head into the meeting room, her gaze softened upon spotting Friede fast asleep on the spare couch. From the scattered pieces of paper all over the ground, it seemed that he really was studying hard to earn his pilot license.

On the days where Orla worked on turning a fool’s dream into reality, Friede busied himself in Rustboro’s flight school, clocking in his flight hours and doing tests every other week. He returned periodically, both to see her progress and let her know of his own, all beaming smiles and wild hand gestures that never failed to draw out Orla’s own smile. His excitement was infectious, while his genuine awe and gratitude at her handiwork caused warmth to blossom in her chest.

Quietly closing the door behind her, Orla got to work in picking up the papers, stacking them on the table so she didn't accidentally step on it. After that, she grabbed a spare blanket from the pile of boxes tucked at a corner before making her way back to the couch.

Looking down at his slumbering form, she couldn't help but find him rather cute like this. Messy bangs covered one side of his face, lips parted slightly from the soft snores slipping out–she just about resisted the urge to reach out and brush back his bangs.

Orla briefly shook her head, then began the process of carefully draping the blanket over him.

When Friede shifted underneath it, she froze, hands still on the blanket. Orla looked at his face to see golden eyes slowly opening, blinking a couple of times before they flickered to her.

“Orla?” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

“Hey Friede, sorry for waking you up,” she began in a whispered voice. “I was just–”

Orla didn't get to finish her sentence. Faster than she could react, arms suddenly shot up from underneath the blanket, wrapping themselves around her back before pulling her down.

She let out an undignified yelp, just about throwing her hands out to prevent a collision with Friede's chest. Orla’s heart rate picked up when she realized the position she was in; half sprawled over Friede, her cheek pressed against his torso.

“F-Friede! What are you–!?” she squeaked, feeling her cheeks warm up. Orla tried to push herself up but Friede's arms trapped her in place.

“Mmm… warm…” came his confusing response before his breaths evened out, falling back into slumber.

Orla took a few deep breaths to calm down. Right, so it seemed that in his half awakened state, Friede decided to latch onto the closest warm object. She knew of his sensitivity to the cold, craving warmth even if he was struck by a simple breeze. That was why she wanted to cover him with the blanket, knowing full well that he'd whine about it later.

She knew that the best course of action was to pry herself loose from his arms. Orla still had a lot of work to do if she wanted to finish the airship on schedule.

Yet when an experimental wiggle prompted Friede to rest his cheek atop her head, mumbling cutely about passing his tests, she didn't have it in her to disturb his slumber.

Orla heaved out a deep, resigned sigh. Despite her feelings on the matter, a smile still curled her lips. Might as well get comfy if she had to play the part of an oversized Teddiursa bear.

(When his steady heartbeat eventually lulled her to sleep, Orla found herself dreaming of her childhood, to a time when they were two small kids with big dreams, where their whole worlds revolved around one another).

–

With a small paper bag tucked underneath her arm, Mollie exited the infirmary with her Chansey toddling behind her. She headed towards the living quarters located on the lower deck, passing by several of the wild Pokemon that opted to join them on their travels. Mollie flashed them a light smile before schooling her features once she spotted Orla standing outside.

“Hey, thanks for keeping watch,” Mollie said in lieu of greeting. “He didn't try to make an escape again, did he?”

“No problem! And nope, think he got the message last time. Or at least he’s finally exhausted himself enough to just stay in bed,” Orla replied, slightly shaking her head. “Honestly, he should have done that in the first place but…”

“You and I both know that he's incapable of staying still for long. Still, he needs plenty of rest if he wants to recover quickly.”

Mollie quickly learnt that Friede, when under the weather, became quite the menace of a patient. She wanted to believe that he wasn't intentionally crossing her orders but she could only take so much of his escape attempts before enough was enough.

She had a responsibility for the health and safety of this ship's occupants, which included making sure the sick stay in bed even when they really didn't want to. Luckily they were docked for a few days while waiting for Friede to get better, so Mollie employed Orla's aid whenever she had to grab stuff from the infirmary.

“It's pretty quiet in there so my guess is that he really did fall asleep. Means you'd have to wake him up.”

“Shouldn't be too hard,” Mollie uttered, passing by Orla to give gentle raps on the door. From the lack of a response, she slowly pushed it open and peeked her head inside.

True to Orla's assumption, Friede was fast asleep on his bed. He had his back to the wall, giving Mollie easy access to his peaceful, dozing expression.

Momentarily she felt guilty to wake him up but it was necessary that he took the medicine on time. Mollie switched on the light before crossing the short distance to his bed.

Looming over his form, Mollie placed a hand on Friede's shoulder, giving it a few light shakes.

“Friede, wake up.”

“Mmm…?” It appeared that she roused him from his slumber. Friede raised a clumsy hand to swipe at his face, yawning.

“C’mon, it's time for–”

Mollie would deny that she made any sort of noise when Friede, faster than she could react, reached up to wrap his arms around her. She’d insist that she did not squeak upon realizing the precarious position of being on top of him flushed against this chest. It was just the surprise that increased her heart rate, the close proximity to his fevered skin that made her cheeks warm.

Mollie had little chance to free herself. Friede already had more (defined) muscle mass in the first place. His surprisingly strong grip with his (toned) arms reminded her of an Octillery that caught its prey (not that she'd see herself as one but–)

“Orla help!”

“Mollie? What happened–oh.” Orla had rushed in at the call but paused once she took in the sight. Much to Mollie's rising embarrassment, Orla stifled her giggles behind a gloved hand.

“It's Friede he just–grabbed me like this!”

“Yeah he does that sometimes. When he's out of it, he tends to grab the nearest warm object within arm's length. In this case, I'd say you were unfortunate. Or maybe fortunate…?”

Mollie didn't think it was possible for her cheeks to get any redder. In any case, Orla did eventually help her out (but not before snapping a photo).

–

“Hey Murdock. Muuuurrdooock…”

Murdock paused in his task of drying off the plates. He mentally counted down from three in his head before looking over his shoulder, expression schooled into a light smile.

“Yes Friede? What is it this time?”

“Nothing. Just wanna–wanna say you’re preeetttyyy….”

Arceus above please grant him strength. Murdock fought to keep his smile in place even as warmth crept up his cheeks. He nodded once in response, then went back to his task before any more distractions cropped up.

Who would've thought that Friede was such a lightweight? After the success of a rather lucrative mission, the crew decided to celebrate. Murdock had the chance to make some nice cocktails as a rare treat, though nothing too strong as per Mollie's request.

It became apparent after the first glass that Friede didn't hold his drink very well. He became a rather giggly sort of drunk, spouting off whatever that came to mind. So not too different from his usual self.

Except he lacked even more of a filter, or maybe he was honestly revealing his true thoughts when he waxed tales of how beautiful Orla’s eyes were, how much he loved Mollie's hair and–oh boy, did Friede have some words to share about him.

Murdock tried not to melt underneath the barrage of drunken compliments. It didn't help that Mollie and Orla joined him, being in various degrees of tipsiness themselves. Though not as nearly gone as Friede.

In the end, Murdock convinced his partners to get some rest before they partied too hard. After he made them drink some water first, that left him alone with Friede, who was far too sloshed to make it to his room safely. Murdock wouldn't put it past him to trip and break his leg or something in his drunken stumble.

Hearing him babble about anything and everything was rather endearing, albeit distracting. Especially when Friede felt the need to call for him, just to spout off a compliment about how pretty he was for the umpteenth time.

It never failed to make Murdock feel a tad embarrassed, not used to such words given to him. He was still finding his place in this relationship, and while he didn't feel like he lacked anything in comparison skill wise, he just didn't think he was as physically attractive as his partners.

So while Friede was influenced by alcohol in his system, Murdock didn't doubt the sincerity of his words. That was one of the reasons he fell for his captain in the first place after all.

Eventually, Murdock cleaned the kitchen enough to be satisfied. The only thing left to do was to bring Friede back to his room before retiring to his own quarters for the night.

Murdock approached his drunken partner, who by that point had fallen into a light doze. Friede rested his chin atop folded arms, a healthy flush coloring his cheeks. Maybe Murdock could see about having him drink water too later.

For now, he gently placed a hand on Friede's shoulder, giving it a light shake. That appeared to rouse him, so Murdock got a nice view of Friede blinking sleepily, one hand clumsily swiping at his eyes.

“Hey, how about we get you to–woah!” Contrary to how he looked, Friede's reflexes didn't match his drunken state. Murdock suddenly had to offset the abrupt weight clinging to his front, his arms automatically wrapping themselves around Friede.

“Murdock! Murdooockk missed you!” Friede giggled, and Murdock just about short circuited when he felt the nuzzling against this chest. He didn't think it was possible to get any redder than he did earlier but clearly, he was mistaken.

After he took a few breaths to calm down, Murdock decided that it'd be a waste of effort to try and get Friede to let go. He heard stories of how strong his grip could be, and Murdock just didn't have the energy to deal with that right now.

So what he ended up doing was hooked his arms beneath Friede, pulling him up further so Murdock could carry him. At the shift in position, Friede wound up wrapping his arms around Murdock's neck, resting his cheek against the crook of it, still giggling softly.

“Murdock. Muuuurrdooock. Love you…”

While Friede might not remember this in the morning, Murdock still responded with, “Love you too.”

–

Crossing paths with the Rising Volt Tacklers meant an inevitable clash against their infuriating captain. Amethio wasted no time in issuing his challenge when he came across Friede, who foolishly parted from his crew upon realizing his approach.

“No need to drag anyone else in this. This shouldn't take too long,” came his simple reply, lips set in a challenging smirk.

Amethio’s left eye twitched from that taunt, though he kept himself composed to release Ceruledge. Friede mirrored him by bringing out his Charizard. For a moment, no one issued any commands, both Trainer and Pokemon staring down their respective opponents.

Friede broke the stalemate by ordering a Dragon Claw. Amethio ordered Ceruledge to block it, thus activating its Weak Armor. Now with the speed advantage, he had Ceruledge use Psycho Cut to create some distance.

Predictably, Friede ordered Charizard to pull back in order to dodge the psychic blade.

“Night Slash!” Amethio took that brief moment by having Ceruledge press its advantage, dashing towards Charizard with its glowing arm blades.

“Tch–Air Slash! Don't let it get close!”

Charizard did as such, its wings briefly glowing white before a bevy of air slashes were fired off towards Ceruledge.

“Now, use Phantom Force!”

Ceruledge parried one of the air slashes with its blade before jumping back towards the formed portal. Both Charizard and Friede paused, eyes going this way and that to seek out where Ceruledge would pop out.

“There! Spin tail before using Dragon Claw!” Just as Ceruledge emerged behind Charizard, the dual-type spun around, using its hefty tail to nail Ceruledge. Though before it could follow that up with Dragon Claw, Ceruledge's Weak Armor activated, granting it another speed boost to just barely avoid those glowing claws.

“Psycho Cut! Don't give it any breathing room!”

Ceruledge first jumped back to create distance once again. Then it fired off several blades of psychic energy towards Charizard.

What Amethio didn't take into account was the Pokemon’s distance from Friede. Charizard dodged or parried most of the Psycho Cuts but one did veer dangerously close to Friede.

Amethio saw how the older Trainer dodged, causing the blade to hit the bush behind him instead. There was a miniature explosion from the impact, though nothing that would stop the pair from their battle.

That was, until an angry looking Shiinotic popped out from the damaged bush. Amethio found himself calling out a warning instead when the Grass-type puffed up.

Friede turned around just in time to get a face full of glowing spores. Charizard and Ceruledge paused in their battle at the eruption of coughs, and Amethio felt a small chill trail down his spine when moments later, Friede just… collapsed.

As much as he wanted to beat him, Amethio didn't want Friede to actually get hurt. His steps carried him towards Friede's fallen form while Charizard angrily chased after the Shiinotic, furious at its attack on its Trainer.

Amethio fell to his knees, eyes immediately roving over still body. At least Friede seemed to be breathing based on the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He couldn't tell how badly affected Friede was from the spore so Amethio took off a glove, intending to check for his pulse.

That proved to be a huge mistake on his end. The moment Amethio leaned in and had two fingers to the side of Friede's neck, an arm suddenly shot up to wrap around his waist. Moments later, Amethio collided against Friede's chest when the guy abruptly pulled him close.

That moment knocked the breath out of Amethio but it didn't take long before he started struggling.

“What are you–let me go!” he snarled, any hints of concern evaporating once he heard the soft snores. This guy was just fast asleep! How dare he grab him like this?

Amethio didn't expect such strength from Friede's lanky arms. No matter how much he struggled, the guy held on like a Grapploct. Even Ceruledge just sort of stood nearby, uncharacteristically hesitant in the face of its Trainer’s desperation.

Briefly Amethio considered ordering Ceruledge to Bitter Blade Friede's butt into next Sunday but his pesky morals kept buzzing at the back of his mind. He released an aggravated sigh, then redoubled his efforts into freeing himself from the Vice Grip.

At some point, Amethio thought that getting into a different position would give him enough wiggle room to slip out. His plan of rolling on their side backfired horribly when Friede (who remained infuriatingly asleep) lazily rolled half on top of Amethio instead, one leg now pinning both of Amethio's in place.

As if to add insult to injury, Friede lightly nuzzled the top of Amethio's head, messing up his hair.

Only Ceruledge saw how apoplectic with rage he became. If Amethio elbowed the guy in the stomach or kneed him at a spot where the sun didn't shine, well, it was entirely deserved.

Maybe if he got lucky, Amethio could get out of this mess before anyone saw him.

(He was not lucky. Amethio very nearly considered asking for Spinel’s expertise in erasing a snapped picture that now existed in one of the RVTs Rotom Phones but he wasn't that desperate. Yet).

–

After his talk with Diana, Friede quietly left the observation deck, mind filled with various thoughts. Today had been more action packed than usual, filled with danger that they narrowly avoided.

Had Terapagos not… shifted like it did, Friede wasn't keen on their chances of getting past Rayquaza unscathed. He already had his hands full in keeping Roy back, and after the Legendary became enraged at Amethio's abrupt challenge, he didn't think even Charizard and Cap could stop its rampage.

Speaking of Roy, he recalled the surge of fear when he saw the shockwave heading towards the boy. Roy might not have gotten badly hurt but Friede didn't want to risk it, his body surging forward to cover Roy in a protective embrace.

He remembered the growing frustration of his insistence in fighting Rayquaza. Roy did have a one track mind when it came to the Legendary but he didn't realize it was to the extent of not recognising the danger they were in. While Friede typically supported his goal, that wasn't a moment to let Roy do what he wanted.

Friede promised his grandfather to keep Roy safe after all.

Above all, Friede couldn't shake off the mild concern at Roy's despondent mood throughout dinner time. Sure it wasn't as lively as usual (unsurprising considering the day they had) but seeing Roy eat only two servings as opposed to his usual three was rather surprising.

Roy waved off Murdock's worried question, citing his exhaustion for the lack of appetite. No one pushed him about it, so dinner ended with everyone choosing to retire early for the night.

Well, mostly everyone.

Sighing softly, Friede raised his hand to gently scratch Cap underneath his chin.

“Guess we should get some sleep too, eh Cap?”

At the nod, Friede made his way to the lower deck. Just as he rounded the corner towards the living quarters, he paused in his steps.

There, sitting right outside of his room was Roy. He was hugging Fuecoco to his chest, chin resting atop the Fire-type’s head. Even from where he stood, Friede could tell that the boy was fast asleep.

Now the question was why did he come here?

Friede quietly approached the boy, glancing down at his half slumped form against the door. He crouched down till he was eye level with Roy before placing a hand on his shoulder, giving it a few light shakes.

“Hey Roy, wake up. It's more comfy to sleep in your room–huh?”

Friede barely had time to react when one of Roy’s arms suddenly shot up, hooking itself behind Friede's neck, his other one still holding on to Fuecoco. Roy then pulled himself close to Friede, tucking himself against his torso.

On Friede's end, he just about kept his balance from the sudden added weight. He remained crouched, one arm going around Roy’s body to keep him secured, an instinctive gesture for the most part.

“Pika?”

“Ah… guess I'm in a bit of a pickle,” he murmured, eyes flickering to Cap. Then it went to Roy, who remained blissfully unaware of the predicament he placed himself in.

Briefly Friede considered his options. In the end, he decided that it was easier to just bring him back to his room instead of waking him up. With that plan in mind, Friede hooked one arm underneath Roy’s knees. Using the wall for balance, he slowly rose to his feet, carefully adjusting his grip on Roy until he was standing upright.

Roy merely nuzzled his cheek against Friede's chest. Once he got to Roy’s room, getting the boy to let go had been quite the challenge but he managed it in the end. Just as Friede tucked Roy and Fuecoco in, he just about caught faint mumbles that sounded suspiciously like thank you.

Friede didn't know if Roy was even awake but it sparked something warm within his chest, a feeling that he carried with him all the way back to his own room much later.

#Pokemon Horizons #Anipoke #Pokeani #Professor Friede #Orla (Pokemon)#Mollie (Pokemon)#Murdock (Pokemon)#Ludlow (Pokemon)#Amethio (Pokemon)#Roy (Pokemon)#RisingVoltTacklersShipping #Hana writes stuff #Just going to use that as the ship name for whatever pieces I write about this polycule in the future

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eternal-stuck · 6 months

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ough i need to know your headcanons about fake pep and Bruno (esp why Bruno is g o o p y ™ like fake pep is like what horrors did he experience)

RIGHT AWAY!! Sorry there's a massive block of text under this oh my god. Have fun I hope

For Fake Peppino (and the war clones) I think Pizzahead couldn't be bothered to directly get a source of good human DNA from Peppino himself, so the next best thing to mix together with pizza dough would be frog as a filler! And just modify them from there. Which would explain the weird frog like qualities they all have. But this is something basically everyone thinks already.

Now for Bruno, I bring Pizzabro into existence. Being that I think he's a little more on the organized/smarter side yet still just as unethical as his brother, he decided to take a crack at making a clone himself. Bruno as a person did exist already as the former owner of the pizzeria Fake Peppino resides in. But Pizzabro essentially murders the guy and uses him as the entire source of human DNA, thus resulting in a far more stable dough clone. However! He was still made using frog filler to complete the process! He absolutely despises it.

He originally had the intention of being Peppino but decided he was "everything better and more" than him. Then shaped himself into the cartoon mascot in the pizzeria and took Bruno's name as his own.

He and Fake Peppino are constantly at each other's throats. Bruno, cocky, on his high horse of being everything better than he could be, and Fake Peppino, lashing back knowing everything he hides about himself to appear more human, that one way or another he's still like him too. As for smaller details, whereas Fep's "clothes" are entirely his body, Bruno's coat and hat are the only real clothes he has. His entire bottom half is colored black. ↓

Surprise! He actually has a little frog tail. He hides it under his uniform. Bruno also can't shapeshift as freely as Fep can. Because he spent so long molding his form as the mascot it puts extra strain on him to do anything else intensive. He'd be unstable for a while afterwards. I think after the tower's collapse they'd gradually try to make amends after they both come to terms with themselves (Fep knowing that he can't be The Peppino and Bruno just accepting he's also a freak) That's all I can think of rn !!

#I hope that all made sense its close to 5 am and im like. rotting <3 #i speak #pizza tower #pizza tower fake peppino #fake peppino #pizza tower bruno #eternal art

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robot-rarepairs-dotcom · 1 month

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Hear me out

Predaking sparking Bumblebee during his rut and Bee finds a way to escape but finds himself sparked because he’s a very fertile carrying mech and Predaking has very potent transfluid so now he’s carrying more than one.

Bee finds out about a month later when his tanks swell and he’s always hungry and tired. So now he has to tell Ratchet and Optimus what happened and they confine him to the base and good timing too because Predaking has been searching for him and won’t rest until he gets him back.

Just Bee heavy in the early carrying staying mostly in his berth because he’s nesting and doesn’t want any pitying looks or questions. He hates that he needs help moving around now and he isn’t even past the first stage yet.

Bee does something stupid ( normal ) like try and get a breather from his teammates and sire (Optimus) hovering and worrying about him.

He isn’t outside by a lake for more than a few kliks when the sound of dragon wings meets his audial’s. all he can do is try to stand on his own to get away while comming his teammates his location.

Predaking is down right pissed it took so long to find Bee but he does pause long enough to see he’s stressing Bee and the new sparks out. So he nudges his helm against Bee and Bee’s tanks and doesn’t make a move to take the mini solider, yet.

Optimus gets there in mere kliks and is ready to take Predaking’s helm for touching his sparkling and Prefaking is ready to offline anybot thinking they can take his mate and sparklings away from him.

Thoughts?

Ough so many thoughts I love it so much oh my goddd

Heavy bee with the babees🩷

Ugh I love that oh my god

Especially the gentle head bump to the baby bump waaaa

#transformers #transformers rarepairs #rarepairs #rarepair ask #predabee #predaking #bumblebee #optimus prime #tw mechpreg #mechpreg

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sketching-shark · 8 months

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Hello! I hope your week has been fine. I've seen some of your Journey to the South stuff. Very neat! I'd like to ask, just as their (baby?) sister have the power to curse immortals to death, what powers did you give Luohou and Qidou? Qidou has a giant inkbrush and Luohou some kind of sun imagery in the back. What do those mean? Are those related to their powers? What personality did you give them?

Also, I hope you don't mind if I insert some LMK ideas (because I know you don't like the show's direction of SWK) but I have a thought that the Macaque character might be more palatable and makes sense as JTTW's sequal character if the character was originally a separate character from the SEM, just a monkey demon with extraordinary hearing who was friends with SWK, who was killed during SWK's journey, something SWK realized too late, then was revived but as a price, SAM'S soul latched onto his and sort of fused together, so now he's being possessed by the monkey that tried to usurp his old friend's life, while his body is slowly changing and his identity is mixing with SAM'S memories and feelings.

Just a ramble of idea here. You may ignore it if you aren't interested. Have a good month, eat your fruits and vegetables at least once a week!

AUGH so sorry that I've taken so long to get to this question @angstandhappiness (X_X). Part of it is me still finalizing Quidou and Luohou's whole deal! I'm honestly happy that you're interested in what I'm planning for those guys, though I do want to note that Quidou is the one with the mirror behind him and Luohou is the one with the giant paintbrush. I'll try to get some more sketches out for them soon :D

OUGH some of the asks I've gotten (yours included) have offered some really neat ideas on what could be done with Monkie Kid as it now stands! tbh a good deal of my disappointment with the route Flying Bark took with Macaque was the way they just wholesale threw away everything about his devious and terrifying evil twin self from the og classic in order to make him this angsty oc Shadow the Hedgehog clone, but honestly this suggestions seems like a pretty cool way to let og LEMH have a chance to shine in all his vicious and manipulative glory! As is WOW the scenario you've proposed presents a very interesting body-snatcher-ish chance to really get into how kind of creepy and honestly damaging to literally everyone Macaque's obsession with Sun Wukong is. Like it really lays on how Macaque has nothing defining his life or identity except what happens between him and the Monkey King, which does present a perfect opportunity for og LEMH to come in and be like "okay you clearly have nothing else going on let's try to murder/replace this guy again >:D"

#ask answered #jttw six eared macaque #monkie kid six eared macaque #tfw you have so little identity that you become the perfect host for an evil doppelganger who wants to kill your bestie/worstie :(#monkey critical #body horror #body horror ish #was pretty fun to do some body horror-ish jttw-ish art again lol

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twistedtavern · 7 months

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Head empty

Heres my list of how all the twst boys would be like as spouses from best to absolute worst. No in-between

Tw: mentions of abuse, cheating and bad stuff. You've been warned

Reverse au:

A: tweels: they are responsible and very caring and loving. No doubt you're marriage will be full of love and happiness

silver : same as the tweels. Even though he's basically handicapped since lilia took his kneecaps he still makes everything possible to support you. He's such an amazing spouse, but you'll have to remind him to rest quite often

B: epel: he would like to be pampered but he'll help with house chores and stuff. Getting very protective of you if he catches anyone looking at you weird and is a little insecure he managed to pull someone so amazing

cater: the way I see it he's more of a househusband. Preferring to stay inside and take care of the house and maybe if you both have kids, he'll look after them too while you work

C: Riddle: he's very cool but he's not over how his mom would manipulate his childhood. Hell do basic things but don't trust him by himself for too long, might break the law out of boredom

vil: I honestly have no clue bucause he's got a bromance going on with neige. But if he does marry someone else, don't trust him anymore than riddle. As soon as you look away he's playing with the lit candles and vaping outside your house

Idia: after finally accepting himself he's very quiet and meek. Following you around the house and cuddling up close to you. He's very happy, but he's still not quite over getting himself roped into unnecessary drama..

sebek: yandere. He'd take care of you yeah but would probably kill anyone who looks at you and vice versa. Possessive.

jack: he's two face and a liar right? Don't trust him with very personal things, because he'll just tell someone to start something since he's bored. "Can't you take a joke, silly?" No. Absolutely cannot. Say goodbye to your reputation

D: Ruggie: would be neglectful maybe. He still has that inferiority complex. He'll let you spend money as long as you leave him alone. Maybe he was unfaithful once or twice but he swore never to do it again because he felt guilty.

Leona: can't cook for shit and so whiny. You'll have to do everything by yourself because he'll start crying saying he hurt his finger picking up the broom and duster. Can't even sweep

E: Ace: coward. Would probably get you in drama and run away, leaving you to deal with the angry people

deuce: abusive and sadistic. No. Don't even Respec his mama.

Rook: would skin you alive

F: trey: abusive and neglectful. He'd probably hit you a couple times while frustrated

azul: abusive #3

malleus: sadist. Would probably torture you or starve you since he likes seeing you so hurt and pathetic. Horrible.

Lilia: even worse. He'd do bad many things. Unconsensual. Grouchy. Sexist.

YEEEEEE

Ough there are some pieces of Shit in this au huh 😅

#reverse twst au

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tedlebred · 21 days

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if youre comfortable sharing, whats your rendering process? what are some ways you learned? your art is very yummy

HSHSHHSHS hello!!!!!!!!!! first off omg,,,, thank you so much,,,,🤭🤭

secondly!!!! heres my attempt at a rendering process explanation. uhm. warning ive never really been asked to explain it before please bare with me

BUT. here goes. this'll probably be ungodly long apologies

so when i render my biggest rule is basically Do Not Blend Ever. what i do is do my sketch, then flats, then basic placement of blush/shadows+darkest parts/etc and then i go in and just colourpick the inbetweens+place them between colours in small strokes until the changes in colour don't look too sharp/jarring

here's some examples of the process;;;

(still a wip but HSHSHHS) so i work on 3 layers primarily (sometimes i do the hair+items that cover the face on another layer, too, though they might end up getting merged):

^ with just the sketch layer n flats / and then with the render layer added

i go in with a bigger brush to block in colour variation on the face on the flats layer and then paint over that, as well as over the sketch, with smaller strokes on a render layer- i never do lineart lol, and any "lineart" thats visible is just the sketch peeking through. I try to rely on colour and shadow to create shapes and boundaries instead of lines though this isn’t a hard and fast rule.

i also try to stick to the same pallette the entire drawing- once the flats and shadows are first roughly blocked in all the other tones/midshades/colours are basically just inbetweens picked directly from the drawing. Just me zooming in real close till I can see the pixels and colour picking where they sort of mix. (any smaller shifts in hue/tones are just colours with saturation slightly turned up or down, usually) im also not sure if this helps but i use the Sol brush from the clip studio assets store for literally everything from sketch to render, which is basically just a slightly soft opacity brush which ive deluded myself into thinking helps give my art a softer look. idfk if it does or not.:)

I like to use really saturated blush and for shadows I usually use two base colours; a warmer one and a colder one- a warmer one for smaller shadows and shadows near light and then colder ones for planes more in darkness. Also, usually, at the very end of the drawing I’ll add a layer that’s just fully yellow with colour burn or linear burn or multiply turned on and the opacity turned low just to make everything warmer. (a little thing I like doing for shadows sometimes is never making them reach the edge of the plane; the actual edge is usually a slightly lighter shade and it sort of looks like stylised bounce light that would probably not be there but anyhoo)

but yeah,,,, Never Blend But Make It Look Almost Blended. I’ve been doing it forever,,,,,, and I really like the almost shiny feeling it gives things:)))

And where did I learn. Ough. A lot of what I do I figured out through trial and error and just drawing a bunch (IM SORRY THATS REALLY NOT HELPFUL) but some sources I looked towards were sinix design and bluebiscuits on YouTube!!!!! Sinix has a really good video on rendering skin which is where I sort of took my principles from and ran. And bluebiscuits was a huge inspiration for me when I started trying to render things beyond flats!!!!!!! They’re also where I found the sol brush, lol. Also just,,, the impressionist movement as a whole is a massive inspiration. The use of light and shapes to create form is just,,, omg. Especially Claude Monet in particular. (and for the basics of drawing I learnt from my aunt!)

and honestly, just observing people. A lot of the time when I’m watching a movie or on a walk or even just talking with someone I tend to start looking at their face, and the different planes, how light hits it and how shadow interacts with it, where the shadows are harsher/softer……….people are wild man

I really hope that made sense!!!!!! I’ve never tried explaining it before and honestly, I’m not even really sure how I do it. I just sorta. Switch off and start drawing, yk? BUT I HOPE IT HELPED!!!!🫶🫶💞💖

in case that was all utter nonsense here’s a speedpaint that’ll hopefully demonstrate my process;;

I also have straight up screen recordings of me drawing but. I don’t think anyone wants to sit though that

thank you for the ask!!!!!have a nice day/night and SORRY THAT ENDED UP THAT LONG

#:))))))))))#my process #Asher art #ask #fw #<- for the speed paint

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ispyspookymansion · 2 months

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kora if u feel comfortable could u talk about ur gender journey and relationship w lesbianism bc sometimes im like that tweet that's like. im probably trans but i have a job so idrc about that but. ough it's scary and confusing. what if im just butch.

oh wow! well let me think. going to put this under a cut because its longish

it was a much harder path for me to get to lesbianism than to get to Gender. i had a really hard time accepting that for some reason, it took a lot of agonizing, a lot of intentional repression, a lot of misery and wallowing around words and labels and avoidance and definitions. so by the time i got through that it then opened up some gender doors for me because lesbianism is inherently disruptive of the cisheterosexual matrix, but i really, really didnt want to go through that misery again, so i just decided it didnt matter what i was as far as gender and what mattered was how i felt and what made me happy. i only became confident in calling myself trans in the last ohh i dont know, 6 months? and yet ive been on T for a year! for me the actions came easier than the wording. i tried not to stress about what i was doing and whether it was or wasnt aligned with lesbianism. i trusted in our history of transness and masculinity and found a lot of comfort in talking to other butch and transmasc lesbians about their experiences and feelings, and found such a range of experiences that felt very relevant to me

ultimately, i feel like a lesbian. i knew that and i continue to know that. the way that i feel about the people im attracted to and the kinds of relationships i want to have is what connects me to lesbianism. i dont feel like lesbianism is my last thread to womanhood. it isnt a thread to that at all. theres too rich a history of gender defiance and creation to simplify it like that, so i dont let it be that for me. i dont feel dysphoric about being a lesbian even if cis(het) people might not understand me as being transmasc as well. + butch and transmasc arent exclusive and are often beautiful beautiful copilots in dykery !

i also find pursuing what makes me feel good matters a lot more than finding exact words for it. im not really sure what my gender is honestly? it took me a long time to get comfortable/feel like i was allowed to call myself lesbian, trans, and butch too honestly. but i went through a lot less misery when i took actions First to figure out what felt right and then accepted the words that naturally followed After. am i trans or am i not trans stressed me out much more than do i want to bind or not? do i want my voice to be lower or not? do i want to try a different name and pronouns or not? and then my answers to these led me to actions and opportunities that got me to feeling comfortably trans, without putting so much questioning strain on the lesbianism i felt at my core.

+ the opposite is helpful. crossing off what am i Not and what i dont want can be a lot easier than what Am i. woman has always been absolutely not right. trans took longer to feel right which is silly versus logically if i wasnt cis, i was trans, but i had to go in steos

i guess just remember that theres not a really hard line between butchness and the transmasc umbrella (other than personal definition obviously) and you can be one or both or one now and then later realize the other feels better. try to read about butches and he/him lesbians and transmasc dykes and talk to them where you can and enjoy the range of answers and identities and give yourself grace to explore that without so much pressure on whether its one or the other. youre still you regardless of what words to use to describe it so take your time figuring out what you want before you worry too much about what that means you “are”

ALSO you dont have to be butch to be trans and still a lesbian or vice versa you can be nonbinary or genderqueer or agender or genderfluid or etc etc etc and consider those under the label Trans and also be butch! or you can be those things but Not butch and still a lesbian! you can do whatever forever!

#im not sure if that answers anything!#it is really touching to be asked this since asking MY tumblr mutuals and ppl i followed stuff was important to me going through this for #myself ^_^ happy to help if i did help at all that is…..hopefully #if not feel free to ask something more specific !#kora.txt #asks #anons

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magniloquent-raven · 2 years

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Dig that prompt list. Super worried for the new episodes tho so maybe some Harringrove with feeling your partners pulse??? 🖤🖤🖤

ough i hope ur alright after vol 2 lol 💕💕💕 here's a lil fluff, cuz we all deserve some rn

“Would you stop squirming, I’m supposed to be checking your resting heart rate.”

“I’m plenty restful,” Billy mutters, shifting in his seat again, eyes downcast and pouting like a petulant toddler.

Steve huffs, adjusting his loose grip on Billy’s wrist. His pulse jumps under Steve’s fingers, and the muscles in his forearm twitch. “Right.”

It’s like this every time. Every goddamn day since Billy got out of the hospital. It should be getting under Steve’s skin by now, but it’s weirdly getting easier to deal with. Like Billy’s growing on him or something.

It was rocky at first. He knew it would be when he volunteered to take Billy in, but Max wouldn’t stop fretting over what was going to happen to her brother and Steve couldn’t stand the sad eyes anymore. It took some convincing, for some goddamn reason Steve couldn’t stop the words from falling out of his face when she told him no, like he actually wanted to do this. But he argued for in favor for so long he almost convinced himself as much as he convinced her.

And so here he is. Responsible for Billy Hargrove’s stubborn ass. Making sure he takes his meds and does his exercises, inspecting his shiny new scars for any signs of complications—whatever that means, half the shit the doctor told him went right over his head—and checking his stupid pulse because his stupid heart got fucked up by the stupid Mind Flayer, and now… And now Steve has to worry about him. Him and his damaged heart.

“It’s too high again,” Steve sighs.

“I’m tellin’ you, I feel fine. It’s fine.”

“Yeah my Uncle was fine too. Right up until he died of a heart attack when he was, like, fourty.”

“Jesus, Harrington.”

“I’m just saying.”

“Well, stop saying.” Billy pulls his arm away, tucking it close to his side, away from Steve.

Steve flexes his fingers, trying to subtly shake the weird feeling of loss. His palm is cold. Empty. He’s suddenly too aware of his own pulse thrumming, a poor replacement for the heady warmth of Billy’s skin.

Christ, he needs to stop. He really needs to stop. Billy took a risk trusting Steve with his care—something that still shocks Steve if he thinks about it too long—and Steve can’t fuck that up by perving on him while he’s supposed to be helping.

He’s not sure how to stop though. Billy started muscling his way into Steve’s space the second he got to Hawkins, but it was never like this. Quiet. Back when he was being annoying Steve was focused on that. Distracted by Billy being an asshole. Not sitting on their beat-up old couch holding his hand and his heart and trying desperately to keep the numbers in his brain when all his brain wants to do is remind him that Billy’s knee is touching his and he could be counting the freckles on Billy’s nose instead of his heartbeats.

Steve lets his head fall back against the cushions and stares at the ceiling. There’s a stain in the corner that looks like a whale.

“Fine. D’you wanna watch a movie or something?”

The next day is, to nobody’s surprise, no different.

Steve checks and double-checks the pamphlets he was given, just to make sure he isn’t misremembering what a healthy heart is supposed to sound like.

He wasn’t. Billy’s heartbeat is definitely racing. Again. Still? Maybe it’s been like this the whole time, thundering under the metal plate keeping Billy’s ribs in place, thumping so hard Steve doesn’t need to touch Billy to know how fast it is because he can see it.

He touches him anyways.

“Are you drinking buckets of coffee while I’m not looking? Jesus Christ, Hargrove.”

“Yes. Obviously. I’m surprised you haven’t caught me yet.”

Billy picks at a thread hanging loose from the bottom of his cutoff shorts. His other hand hangs limply in Steve’s grip. He stares at his own wrist with a furrowed brow.

“Very funny, smartass. I think I might have to call the doc, this isn’t—”

“I don’t need another fucking check-up.”

“Your BPM says you do.”

“Oh excuse me, Nurse Harrington.”

Steve blows out a breath. “C’mon, man. It could be something serious, don’t you wanna know?”

“I do know. I know that an appointment would be a waste of everyone’s goddamn time.”

“You—” Steve gestures helplessly with his free hand, fingers tuat and curled with frustration. “This isn’t normal, Billy!”

“It’s—”

“No, no, shut the fuck up, just—” Before he can actually think it through he pulls Billy’s hand towards him and holds it to his chest, wrangling him into position while Billy stares at him in blank shock. “This is what a normal heartbeat is supposed to feel like, alright?”

Billy’s palm is flat against his sternum, a warm weight between his chest and his hands, ragged, bitten down thumbnail catching on the material of Steve’s shirt. Crystal blue eyes bore into him, wide and unblinking.

He really should have thought this through.

No matter how much he tries to will his heart to stay steady, the longer Billy looks at him the more it trips over itself. The longer he stays, touching Steve’s chest, letting him hold his hand, the more anticipation threads itself around his lungs, taut and hopelessly tangled.

“...Is it?” Billy raises his eyebrows.

“Um.”

He should definitely probably be panicking right now. And he is, a little, except Billy’s sitting so close and he’s not moving away, and the look on his face is curiosity more than anything else. There’s something tickling Steve’s brain that he can’t quite pin down. It’s distracting enough to keep him from hitting solid ground, keep him looking up at least, ignoring the weird, awkward reality that he’s pushed a boundary that he told himself he wouldn’t.

Except Billy isn’t pulling away.

He’s…

Oh, wait.

Wait a second.

“Oh my god.”

Billy blinks at him. “What.”

“Do I make you nervous?”

“What?”

There’s an unmistakable pink tinge spreading under Billy’s freckles, and Steve grins. “Holy shit, that’s why, isn’t it?”

“Fuck off, Harrington.” There’s no heat to it.

“All this time I was worried about your health and it turns out you just have a crush on me, oh my god.”

“I—”

“Dude, that’s adorable.”

Billy lets out an embarrassed huff, “Shut up.” His gaze drops to his hand, still trapped against Steve’s chest. When he glances back up there’s something tentative about the way he does it. He opens his mouth. A beat passes. He closes it again.

“The answer is yes,” Steve says gently.

“You…”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.”

“So…do you think you and your heart can handle doing something about this, or—”

Billy’s nails dig in as he lunges forward, crashing his mouth into Steve’s. It’s messy and enthusiastic, as much an oh god finally as a yes I can, Harrington, shut the fuck up. By the time they come up for air Billy is straddling Steve’s thighs, gripping the front of his shirt like his life depends on it.

And it turns out Billy’s heart is just fine. Especially when he has Steve taking care of it.

~~tag list ppls @growup-thatbeautiful @spreckle 💕💕

#stranger things #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #billy hargrove #steve harrington #a raven's writing desk

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professorspork · 11 months

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How did you decide on the roles you did for: Emerald, Mercury, Neon, Robyn, Oscar, Sun, Maria?

OOH LOVE THIS QUESTION

but ough this got long so UNDER THE CUT

Em and Merc

This one was a pretty intuitive one for me. In Newsies, the Delanceys are a matched set pair of pain-in-the-ass bruisers, and their role seemed like the perfect launching point for whatever I wanted to do with the murder kids. the only real question was whether only Em or both of them would get a face turn, as in Newsies neither do and so far in canon only one has. I knew from early that it would be a great opportunity if I included Yang getting framed for Merc's leg, and I knew from early on that Emerald would "catch" them during the climactic printing of the manifesto and choose to let them go. em and merc being Yang's only friends while she scabbed was more of a game time decision that unfolded organically.

Neon

this took some time to arrive at!

my first instinct for who would fill the Spot Conlon role was Nora (as evidenced by the fact that she still gets his dialogue sometimes). this probably could have worked if i'd insisted on it, but I needed Nora too much to be Racetrack and serve as Yang's Best Friend/The Newsie We Know Best to cut her off from the main story like that. giving Nora the "no one hates Neon, she's just a little unhinged" so Blake could be like COMING FROM *YOU,* THOUGH? mostly satisfied that first gut instinct.

the next person I considered for the Spot role was Coco, because of that effortless cool and intimidation factor, but... if I couldn't make myself believe in Pyrrha being a street urchin newsie, there was just NO WAY I could pull it off for Coco. her the rich girl energy is just too strong.

only then did I land on Neon as the next candidate, because she and Yang had that antagonistic relationship and it would be both a) entirely believable for her to be a crater kid and b) shore up the Faunus storyline in foundational ways. even though in hindsight she's kind of the ONLY choice, I resisted it at first because Neon's dialogue felt like a big challenge for me... that sort of gleeful negging and lowkey sexual harassment isn't exactly in my usual wheelhouse. realizing I could translate that combative stance into an entirely justifiable hostility towards humans was the key that made it click, and then she sort of exploded in importance when I was like OH she's my truth to power who gets to say the uncomfortable thing that everyone needs to hear.

Robyn

This one also came with a bit of time and development. someone had to be the Deus Ex Teddy Roosevelt, and Robyn was an obvious candidate... but the other one was Ghira.

(this goes on a bit of a tangent but I think you'll forgive me, lol)

figuring out Blake's (and the White Fang's) placement in the story took some doing. in Newsies, David is new to hawking but not new to New York; the main antagonist outside Pulitzer is Snyder, the warden of the juvenile hall. I knew that Adam's pursuit of Blake had to fill that role narratively, but my initial thoughts were to have a higher level of fidelity to Newsies, too-- that Clover would also be chasing Blake because she's wanted for something Adam did, maybe, and the two would play off each other. in that version, everything was thus very local-- Blake was from Mantle just like the rest of the characters are, and her separation from her family was an estrangement without that profound physical distance.

when I tried to game that out over the long-term of the story, however, having her parents so close by just felt too brain-bending; it gave Blake an escape hatch when I needed her to not have one. even then, I considered Blake writing a letter to her family and Ghira showing up in answer as a potential Teddy solution, but it just didn't hit right.

having given up on Ghira, I turned back to Robyn, and then when I gave her full consideration I realized that I could take the election storyline from RWBY and use it as the inciting incident for the price hike, which would nicely dovetail the two canons and hopefully strengthen both. from there, it was much more natural.

Oscar

This one was pure necessity. Anyone i COULD justify using in the union inner circle, I wanted to, and Oscar-- by virtue of being a conniving, clever, mercenary thinker in canon both for Ozpin-related and crucially not-Ozpin-related reasons, was SUPER useful to me.

creating that inner union core so that way I could get the fic's political and plot-related thinking out through (relatively organic) dialogue instead of in more cumbersome ways was really key. if you go back and read all their conversations, you'll see patterns emerge as they always take on the same roles: Oscar is a rational thinker and an Ideas Guy; Nora's completely gung-ho; Ren is supportive but is also the first to fold when he feels like they've failed; Jaune is the one who asks the questions that keep the conversation going (with BRNZ also doing that or being nay-sayers if they're around). Velvet, of course, was crucial for getting a Faunus voice in the inner circle while Blake was stealth, but even more crucial because she's a big-picture thinker and a compromise-oriented person who could find bridges between two seemingly-incompatible thoughts.

which is a long way of saying Oscar is Oscar so he could voice the Ruby thoughts in the chapters before Yang lets Ruby participate.

Sun

I am ashamed to admit it, but for a long time Sun was not going to be in this story, and in fact I was making a WHOLE BIG POINT of Sun not being in the story.

this is sort of related to the Ghira of it all; I always knew that Blake would need to go somewhere after she ran from the big confrontation where everything went wrong, but at first I wanted her to be able to get back to her parents, like in canon. when I realized that would be a logistical impossibility (having Blake leave the continent mid-strike just wouldn't fly), I didn't know WHAT I was going to do with the Blake Alone chapter.

at first, I swore to myself I wouldn't use Sun in that role because like... the whole point of Sun is that he's Blake's friend first and he makes her feel less alone. I told myself this meant he couldn't be in the Blake Alone chapter because the whole point of it is she's ALONE, and if that were true then I certainly couldn't let him be in the union main friend group squad; the point of them is that they're Yang's Friends that Blake gets to know through her, and if I give Blake more true supports that aren't Yang it gets in the way of the love story as necessitated by this plot outline. which meant NO SUN, SORRY.

and then I thought of that "holy shit you're Blake Belladonna, should I bow?" meet cute and I was like... okay maybe a little Sun.

luckily for both Blake and the story as a whole, by the time i GOT to the Blake Alone chapter it had become very clear to me that it wouldn't be Blake Alone at all-- that it would be Blake With Community, and it would be a healing and rising arc to balance Yang's sharp fall into depression. they couldn't BOTH be miserable or else the story would grind to a halt. and so Sun got to shine (pun intended).

Maria

I'm still a little bummed I wasn't able to find more of a use for Maria than I did; Tukson HAD to be Tukson for book reasons, and Pietro HAD to be the head of the lodging house for Mercury reasons, and the plot just couldn't carry more mentor-types in expanded roles. so I gave Maria ownership of the only other Third Space in the story, even though that meant we didn't see much of her after the beginning.

#newsbees au #rwby #fic what i wrote

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