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fallingdownhell · 8 months

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Hello hello hello there, good writer! I was wondering if you'd be open to writing platonic HCs for the currently playable Archons in the game. Basically, way back when during the Archon War (or in Nahida's case, some point early on when she was instated as Sumeru's new Archon) the Archon's save a baby dragon's (the reader) life.Now, centuries later, at some point following the events of the Archon quests, they encounter Dragon!reader reader- now a fully-matured dragon (Dragon is the same element as each Archon. Individually, I mean, they aren't multi-elemental). The Archon recognizes them through any number of factors (a scar in a very particular area of Dragon!Reader's body, a discolored patch of scales, etc.) And as for how they encounter each other, maybe the Archon is accompanying the Traveler on a commission, and dragon!reader saves the Traveler or Archon's ass when the situation gets dicey, maybe the Archon senses a familiar presence and investigates, perhaps paths cross and they find themselves saving (or assisting) dragon!reader yet again, or maybe it's just a chance case of the stars aligning in just the right way. Apologies for the massive word dump, just thought I'd give you some prompts in case you have trouble coming up with ideas for this, if you want to do it, or course!

That is such a cool idea! And I really appreciate the word dump, it really helped me out a great deal this time around, so thank you, kind anon<3

Characters Included: Zhongli; Venti; Nahida

Content: gender neutral! dragon! reader; platonic headcanons;

Word count: 2,2k words

I hope this comes somewhat close to what you had in mind. Hope you enjoy<3

Zhongli

Zhongli often looks back fondly at the times where he had adopted this strange baby dragon

the Archon War was a though time period, both for him and the people at his side, but having that baby to take care of by his side and teaching it all sorts of things made it somewhat bearable for him

he would often play around with it, sometimes even play fighting to show it a few moves and tricks and the dragon seemed to enjoy that a whole lot

though cuddling sessions always seemed to be the dragons favourite, especially when a certain spot under his chin was being scratched

it was a difficult spot for others to reach, seeing as it was surrounded by brown spikes, indicating your resonance with the Geo element, but seeing the happy expression on the baby's face made it worth it in the end

When the dragon later got older and grew up in Zhongli's care, it would often join him in various battles while the War still lasted

On one such battles, the dragon got hurt pretty badly in it's left eye, ultimately loosing it in the process. But it adjusted rather well to living with only half it's eyesight

Later, when the Archon war ended and peace had returned to Liyue, the dragon was all grown up now as well. And one day, without any prior indication, the dragon had just left, never to return again

Zhongli wasn't sad or anything. He understood that this is simply how nature works and he only wished the best unto his foster child

Sometimes, the Ex-Archon wonders if that dragon is still alive, but those thoughts always leave him rather quickly again. It's no use pondering about the unknown

And yet, imagine the surprise on Zhongli's face when he saw another dragon roam the sky just as he finished dealing with Azhdaha alongside the Traveller

Finding an opportunity to slip away from the group, he began traveling in the direction he saw the flying creature

it took some time, but he eventually found the dragon as it rested besides a small lake, soaking in the rays of sunshine onto it's scaled skin

fascinated by it, since dragons were a rare sight to see in this day and age, he decided to approach the creature, silently as to not startle it too much

as he got closer to the dragon, the creature soon picked up a new scent in the area and opened it's big eye, now spotting the approaching Zhongli

quickly, the creature got up and began roaring at him, and that's when Zhongli noticed a particular scar on the left eye of the dragon

Could it be... was it actually you?

Your name slipped past his lips and it made you hold in the middle of your actions. Zhongli could see the uncertainty in the dragons form, so he said your name again, staying still in his spot, only a few steps away

the dragon, still unsure, took another sniff of the surrounding air, taking in the scent of the new arrival, and suddenly, memories from its time as a baby came flooding into his mind, and you recognized the man in front of you

now seeming much calmer, you got closer to Zhongli, your long neck extending towards him so that your head was right in front of him

with a smile, the Ex-Archon extends his hand as well to scratch that certain spot under your chin, like he had always done many, many years ago

at this, the dragon closed its eye and a low grumbling sound could be heard deep within it's throat.

Zhongli almost couldn't believe it. His old friend was still alive and apparently doing pretty well for itself..

for some time, the two of them just sat down in the grass, enjoying the light of the still shining sun, while Zhongli just began talking, telling you of all the things that had happened while you were gone

And you were listening to every single one of his words, feeling happy to finally be reunited with him again..

Venti

Most people know about Dvalin - or Stormterror - and his connection to the anemo Archon. How he was one of the four winds that protected the nation of Mondstadt

but what the people did not know, is that there was a second dragon with the anemo Archon that had been taken in by him when it was only a small baby

as a result, the baby dragon has been raised both by Dvalin and the anemo Archon at the same time. While it learned typical dragon behaviour from Dvalin, Venti provided the baby other lessons important for its life ahead

the little dragon has always been a playful and adventurous one. It was getting into trouble quite frequently as a child, but such was the nature of freedom

Venti had always adored looking at this little dragon baby as he found the light green colour of your scales to be quite mesmerizing. He liked to think that the colour represented your connection with the Anemo element, and himself.

But what he found even more adorable was the little patch of white scales, right between the beginning of your legs and your hind legs. It was about the size of the palm of his hand, the colour never really coming through on that spot

While Venti and Dvalin engaged in the Archon war, you always decided to stay behind, rather enjoying the serenity that the nation of Mondstadt brought to you than to engage with bloody battles all the time

As time went on, you grew older and older, and Dvalin knew that the time would come where you would leave them behind. To find your own place within this world, without them by your side

and sure enough, one seemingly peaceful day, you went up to them one last time, seemingly telling your goodbyes with your eyes before you turned your back to them and flew off into the distant world ahead of you. Excited to see what was liying ahead, but also sad you had to leave them behind

many, many years have passed since that fateful day and a lot has happened since then. A mysterious traveller has appeared in the world of Teyvat, helping Venti to bring his old friend Dvalin back to his senses

Since that incident, Venti couldn't help but think back to the old times quite often, reminiscing of the memories all three of them shared. He would often wonder how you were doing these days, if you were well off..

on one such days, when he was laying beneath the tree at Windrise, thinking of old times, he did not notice a bunch of Abyss mages and their underlings approaching

when he did, it was already too late and he was surrounded by enemies. Though he tried fighting his way out, the number of enemies just seemed to increase, instead of decreasing

Venti began to worry and just as he was about to summon his old friend Dvalin for some help, a roar echoed from above the sky. All heads turned up as a huge creature descended downwards, instantly attacking the abyss mages and their hoards

for a second, the colourful scales made him think of a certain dragon, but he quickly shook off that feeling, concentrating on the battle at hand

it didn't take long until the enemies were dealt with, and as a moment of peace came to them, Venti turned and took in the familiar colour of light green scaling..

But.. that couldn't be, right? It surely was just a coincidence.. another dragon that just happened to have a similar colour to the one he once raised..

But, as the dragon remained on the ground, patiently looking at Venti, he couldn't shake off that feeling of familiarity

And then, the dragon turned to its side, showing Venti the undeniable truth of a missmatched patch of white scales among a sea of green..

It really was you...

Joy spread over Venti's face as he realized it really was his old friend that had come back to see him again

It didn't take long until he was on your back and you began ascending towards the sky again. Up there in the sky, with only the winds holding you back, Venti also summoned Dvalin to him to complete this reunion

Many roars sounded all throughout Mondstadt on this day as there were now two dragons roaming the skies of this nation...

Nahida

As the god of Dendro, Nahida had always liked the nature and all of its inhabitants

she would always try to sneek away to find a spot somewhere within the rainforest where she could just sit down and listen to the sounds of nature all around her

while the sages at that time did not approve of her behaviour, she continued to do so with the excuse of wanting to form a connection between her and her nation as well as it's people

one day while she was out again, she stumbled upon a tiny dragon baby. As she got closer, she noticed that the baby appeared to be hurt quite badly, yet it still backed up when she got closer, scared of her

it took some time and gentle reassuring from Nahida's side, but eventually, the small dragon let her get close, inspecting the wounds inflicted to it

deciding that she wanted to take care of it, she used her powers to build a sort of little hideout where she nurtured the dragon back to health over the course of a few weeks

while doing so, the baby dragon began trusting her more and more, until eventually, they formed a kind of bond between them

once the baby was all healed up, it didn't dissapear like Nahida thought it would. Instead, it decided to stay with her, playing around and growing up with her

every single time Nahida managed to slip out, the two of them were always together. Either laying in the grass, listening to the nature around them, or playing around and sometimes, she even helped the little dragon in learning how to fly

when they got tired, they lay together on the ground, the dragon having it's head on Nahida's lap as she carefully caressed the top of its head where the beatiful, deep green scales where less sharp than everywhere else on its body. The colour reminded her of the rainforest itself sometimes..

but what she found almost a bit more beautiful were those missmatched eyes of the dragon. One in a beautiful, piercing blue colour while the other was deep red, a stark contrast between the two

But then came the day where Nahida was whisked away by the Sages and sealed into the Sanctuary

it took hundreds of years until the traveller arrived in Sumeru and with the help of some others finally freeed Nahida of her everlasting prison

Thankful to have finally escaped, she did her best to handle everything by herself the best she could. She guided her nation into a new direction and took care of everything that the Sages had taken over

which led to her not once having left the city since she has been freeed. Though Nahida yearned to just go outside and sit in the nature again, she had obligations to take care of, that required her urgent attention

until the Traveller came around another time, insisting on her taking a break for once. In his words, all those problems would still be there once she returned from the break, but her well being was important as well, especially for her people she needed to be in good shape

so, taking him up on the offer, the Traveller, Nahida and Paimon went into the rainforest like she wanted to. While wandering around, they passed the old hideout Nahida had once built for that baby dragon

Memories flooded her mind upon seeing it and she smiled a bit, though it appeared to be a bit sad. The Traveller noticed, but before he could ask Nahida about it, they heard some rustling behind them

Weapon at the ready, the Traveller was prepared to attack should the need arise

And then, from behind some trees, a dragon emerged, eyes fixed onto them

and Nahida instantly recognized you. Not because of the deep green colour of your scales that only seemed to have become even more beautiful over the years. But because of those disscoloured eyes that she was never able to forget

you seemed to recognize her as well, showing no signs of aggression at all, which made the Traveller lower his weapon again

finally reunited again after so many years, both of you seemed happy to be within the presence of each other again

you gently pressed the tip of your nose into her face, gently blowing air into her face which made her giggle a bit. She then climbed onto your back, resting there while the now four of you continued this walk through the rainforest

And even after that, you continued to stay by Nahida's side, always there to protect her should anything ever happen to her again. You were ready to make them regret their decision if people decided to ever mess with her again...

#genshin impact #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact platonic #genshin platonic #zhongli headcanons #genshin impact zhongli #platonic zhongli #venti headcanons #genshin impact venti #platonic venti #nahida headcanons #genshin impact nahida #platonic nahida

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thebibliosphere · 7 months

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What is the gameplay like on Gotham Knights? I have poor coordination so I have trouble with anything more complex than LOZ: Ocarina of Time. Like, on a scale of Pokémon->Dragon Age->LOZ->Dark Souls?

It's a bit clunky like Dragon Age 2, tbh. Except it doesn't have the excuse of coming out in 2011. The mechanics and camera controls are one of the things that let it down a lot, IMO.

I’m constantly getting stuck on walls and the edge of ledges because the controls feel laggy and the game’s not consistent about which surfaces you can climb and which ones you need to grapple. It's fine if you’re fighting in more open spaces but it turns the timed events into an exercise in frustration. Not to mention the number of times it feels like I’ve taken damage through an obstacle from enemy ranged attacks when my own ranged attacks bounce off invisible walls if I’m not standing in the exact spot the game needs me to be in. This results in me just key smashing melee a lot until every around me stops twitching.

I’m still enjoying it, but it is v. glitchy and I understand why people are leaving angry reviews. Especially if they are deeply committed to the immersive elements and were expecting the same level of polish from the Arkham games, which this studio also made.

I’m just casual enough a gamer that I’m enjoying muttering “parkour” to myself as I accidentally fall off buildings and plumet to my death because my graple hook glitched out and went the exact opposite way I’d been aiming.

I’m really just playing it for the characters. It feels like playing a a game written by people who understand the appeal of found family that went hard on the campier elements of the franchise while still maintaining a decent level of aching sadness for the tragedy they’ve endured.

You can feel the group fracturing under the weight of Bruce’s death with Dick doing everything he can to fill the void and stay positive and “normal” for the sake of everyone around him, including Alfred who is devastated but also trying to keep it together. Barbara, mourning an extra loss, is trying so hard to stay level headed and useful for Dick. Being both Oracle and Batgirl while also acting like a fun big sister to Tim who stands out as really young in this iteration.

Sure he’s a kid genius, but he’s also only 16 with a monumental caffeine addiction (you can’t tell me all the energy drinks on the shopping list pinned to the fridge aren’t for him) and mourning the loss of Bruce while also just wanting to do normal teenage shit, like asking the group for help with his art homework and being annoyed that his role as Robin is keeping him from spending time with his online boyfriend.

Jay is very raw and angry and obviously processing his own trauma on top of everything that just happened but even he steps up, trying to be there for Tim, teaming up with Babs to gently pick on Dick when he’s being particularly Boy Wonder-ish. Seeing him stress cook is also a nice added touch as are the photos of him and Bruce working on stuff. Bonding.

Which is another thing I Love. From what we see of him, Bruce is in his absolute DILF element in flashbacks and in recordings. All sad smiles and a gentle, head-shaking tolerance for the absolute ribbing the kids put him through for being too serious and neglecting himself. Not to mention all the pictures of him with Dick and Tim and Jason. And so many of him and Alfred and Ace. (The one on the fridge of him and Alfred showing them adopting Dick at the courthouse almost killed me. They all looked so young and happy.)

I’m getting serious “Bruce is a good dad with a warped sense of humor who hugs his kids and spends quality time with them, actually, and you’re wrong if you write him otherwise” fanon vibes, and that's honestly my favorite Bruce.

It’s basically appealing to everything I love about the franchise while scratching an itch in my brain the way crackfic taken seriously does.

And that’s enough to make me forgive the bad controls and glitches. But I could see it not being enough for some people, especially if you’ve already got poor hand eye coordination. Which I do. But again, I don’t really care about being good at games. I’m just dicking around and having fun wringing dopamine out of the narrative.

#gotham knights game

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hurricanebreeze · 1 month

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Batfamily Cooking Headcanons

I was thinkin about it, so have some Batfamily cooking headcanons. They are as detailed as I could get them and in age order. I also included Steph and Barbara, even though they aren't in the main seven.

Alfred - The family cook and the best cook in the family. He distrusts American processed foods because he knows that many of the more chemical ingedients have been banned in Europe, but he deals (and gets as much food imported from Europe as is practical).

Bruce - Has a very mismatched set of cooking skills. He can sort of cook... on a camping stove or a campfire. He can cook beans and boil water. However, he cannot use an oven, nor a microwave, and his knowledge of spice or baking is nonexistant.

Barbara - Can cook. She knows the basics as she learned growing up, so she didn't have to buy takeout every time her dad was working late. Her dad would've been fine with the takeout, however as she became Batgirl, she became very aware of the nutrition needed for vigilante and decided to learn instead. Admittedly, she fell into using microwaves a bit more as Oracle, especially before her flat was adapted, but once her kitchen was adapted, she was relieved to go back to cooking properly as she hadn't realised how much cooking was a hobby for her until it was blocked by inaccessibility.

Dick - Can cook. He has the basics down, as Alfred forced him to learn how to boil an egg and put something in the oven, and a few learned recipes, some learned from his early childhood. He takes comfort in cooking for other people, especially when it's a recipe he learned because he grew up with it. However, if he's on his own and doesn't have anyone to cook for, he is not cooking. He'd rather have something microwaved or some cereal, and he is the king of nutriotionally balanced cereal.

Jason - Second best cook in the family. He spent a lot of time in the kitchen with Alfred between being adopted and dying and most of that time was learning how to cook creatively. Even if he can't be bothered to cook, there are probably leftovers in his fridge. He had some skills before then from having to cook for his mom, but when he started learning from Alfred he was pleasantly surprised to find he enjoyed the process, so it became more of a hobby than a survival skill.

Cass - Queen of snacks. She can cook, don't get me wrong, because Alfred taught her, but she much prefers snacking throughout the day. She often learns new recipes for more variety in her snacking, because sometimes it's nice to have an onigiri instead of a sandwich or put together a really nice charcuterie board with homemade butter. Her snackboards are usually also great for her to eat while training or dancing because it isn't too much and can sometimes remind her she's human, not a weapon, when she gets in her head.

Steph - Can cook. She knows how to make a healthy and cheap balanced meal, but the most she goes beyond is for sweet treats. For her cooking was a survival skill, especially after her dad was finally in jail. Baking and desserts, on the other hand, she enjoys making. She often bakes for friends, family, and herself, and sometimes learns new recipes to try with Cass. While she was pregnant, especially in the late term, baking simple things like cupcakes was one of the hobbies she still felt like she had the energy to do and helped take her mind off of it, even though she had to sit while stirring.

Tim - Can cook. He knows how to make a healthy balanced meal, he lived alone long enough as a teen to know. However, he cannot go beyond that. Alfred tried to teach him a couple of times in the early days of Robin, but it simply didn't go in and after a few too many faraway looks after he burned something he decided that maybe it was time to stop trying. He, canonically, has the worst taste of the family though, so no one asks him to cook anyway.

Duke - Can cook. His parents taught him basic cooking skills and he enjoys going beyond and playing with spices. He's a bit nervous of joining Alfred in the kitchen as first, but eventually he learns that most of the others have found similar solace in spending time cooking with him, so he starts to join too. He also happens to have a cookbook his parents had stashed in their kitchen, even if they didn't use it while they were still at home, so he sometimes spends time learning the recipes from that.

Damian - Has a very mismatched set of cooking skills. Similarly to his dad, Damian learned a very strange set of cooking skills. He cannot use an oven or a microwave but he can appreciate Alfred's kettle for its practicality in a tea-centric household. He can, however, make a relatively simple meal on a camping stove, beyond what Bruce can make on a camping stove. He does occasionally allow Alfred or one of the other cooking-competant family members to teach him a skill every now and then though.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 month

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WIBTA if I asked my future brother-in-law to move out?

🏡 so I can find this. Mostly I just want to get this off my chest because I can't tell anyone else in my town.

My fiancé (L) comes from a very large family. His mother (B) is very nice, and in addition to having three biological kids (L and his two brothers), she has adopted a few from bad homes. Namely A, L's adoptive little sister (19) who has been raised with L and his brothers since she was little.

J, L's younger brother (24) has been living with us since we purchased our first home last year. It's been nice, J kept to himself (his room is in our basement) and paid rent and it got him out of his mom's place. But then their mother's house had a fire and so A was displaced.

B was already in the process of moving house so she had a place to stay with L's youngest brother, but A didn't have anywhere besides her abusive grandma's place. I liked A a lot. I'm an only child and I thought having A as a little sister would be cool, so I invited her to stay with us until she could move back in with B. We have a pull-out couch in a den downstairs so we had room for her. She stayed with us for a week while the house was getting set up, but even after she moved back in with B she kept spending a lot of time at our place with J, getting drunk and high with him almost every night.

About a month later my fiancé caught them having sex.

They're not blood-related but I still feel INSANELY creeped out by that!! L wanted to be supportive but he told me he hated it too. A eventually moved to another city, and J confessed to B (his mom) that he and A were in love and he wanted to move out with her so they could act like a couple. We live in a tiny town where basically everyone knows each other, so they couldn't act like that here (except in our house but I'll get to that), but after a week of living in the next town A had a breakdown because she couldn't handle it (she has no work ethic at all, she quits every job she gets and wants to make a career in traveling even though their family is poor). Now they don't have a place.

But we do.

I was over the moon when they both moved out. But then L told me they were moving back in. I was told they would.be here just until.the.end of Feb until.they could afford a new place. I hesitantly agrees, as long as they paid their rent.

Now it's four months. And the rent is less.

I feel like I have to walk on eggshells, I don't feel like my home is mine anymore! I hate the fact that they're having incestuous sex under my own roof. I hate the smell of weed that floats up from their disgusting fucking basement. L thinks that I'm overreacting because I can't come up with a better reason for hating this situation other than "it makes me uncomfortable"

I want to tell J and A to start looking for a.new place but L would never back me up on it. I seriously want to hurt myself over this and I just feel so darn depressed all the time...

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #incest cw

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transgenderteensurvivalguide · 4 months

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do you have any tips for subtly looking more masculine? I can’t fully transition now because I’m a minor in a confirmed to be transphobic household, and if you have any suggestions that would be amazing

Lee says:

You can try starting slowly incorporating more masculine-styled women's clothing into your wardrobe. This is usually a gradual process anyway since it can take time to save up enough money to purchase enough new shirts/pants/shoes etc. to fully replace your current wardrobe, especially if you're working part-time as a babysitter, dog-walker, etc.

Clothes that are more structured or straight-cut, like button-down shirts or straight-leg pants, can help create a more traditionally masculine silhouette. Layering with hoodies or jackets can also be effective. You can sometimes find these things styled as "boyfriend" clothes, and you can tell your parents that it's the current trend/style. You can see our post on finding masculine clothing in the women's section here.

Another easy change is dropping the accessories. That means not wearing feminine necklaces/earrings/bracelets/hairbands, not painting your nails, etc. It's easy to say you want to keep things basic and sporty and that's why you're going without the accessories. Wearing a neutral watch or a smart watch is another accessory to consider instead of a thin-strapped "women's watch" if you wear watches at all that is.

You can see our post on purse alternatives here since bags are often the biggest practical change in the accessory category. Not carrying a purse when you hang out with your friends in the mall, go out on a trip, etc is obviously a high-impact change to make.

If possible, choose a haircut that's more typically masculine. Shorter haircuts, or styles that are longer on the top and shorter on the sides, can subtly change your appearance. If you use a female reference for your photo when you show your parents what you want they may not suspect anything. You can see our post on convincing your parents to let you get a haircut without coming out here.

If a haircut isn’t possible, consider styles like pulling your hair back in a low bun or wearing hats. If you're Black, cornrows, box braids, and locs are styles that can be gender neutral depending on how you wear them. There's a few links on that here.

There are also things you can do to come across as subtly more masculine without buying anything at all.

Sometimes, adopting a more traditionally masculine posture and body language can make a difference. This doesn't usually have a big impact on passing, but it can help you feel better about yourself and boost your self-confidence and reduce dysphoria, and it's something that your family may not notice because it's easy to alter when you're with them. You can see a post about masculine body language here.

Similarly, you can try voice training and practice speaking in a slightly lower tone or in a more monotone style, which is often perceived as more masculine. Be careful not to strain your voice, though, and maybe avoid doing it while you're with your family. You can see a post about voice training here.

Engaging in exercises that build upper body strength can also help in achieving a more masculine physique. Focus on workouts that target the shoulders, back, and arms. You can often do body weight workouts at home in your room without needing a gym membership or specialized exercise equipment.

Find a support system, whether it's friends, online communities, or a counselor/therapist, who understand and support your gender identity. This can provide a safe space to express yourself and explore your identity. It can help to have other friends who are also masculine to feel like you're not isolated.

Observing and adopting some masculine behavioral cues, like how men typically occupy space or interact in social settings, can also be a subtle way to express masculinity, but you want to be careful that you're not imitating toxic masculinity / obnoxious guys. Similarly, engaging in hobbies or interests that are stereotypically masculine can be a subtle way to align with male peers, but always choose activities that genuinely interest you and you can probably find other guys out there who are also interested in the things you already care about to be friends.

The above suggestions are all things that you can do without your parents necessarily noticing. Binding is something that may not be subtle depending on your chest size, so while it is possible to sometimes bind in front of family without them noticing (saying it's a sports bra, for example) I would recommend keeping your binder in your backpack and only changing into it at school in the bathroom / at a friend's house / in a public bathroom when you're out with friends but not family, etc. unless you really are wearing only a single well-fitting sports bra. You can see more about buying a binder and that whole process in this post.

It's harder to be seen as masculine or male when you're pre-medical transition and not passing which means people often have to "overcompensate" by being more masculine than they would otherwise choose to be, but as always, I'd like to note that it can be possible to pass as male / be masculine while doing any of the things I recommended changing!

So while I might advise someone who wants to come off as more masculine "don't paint your nails" for example, that is a general rule and doesn't mean that you have to follow those guidelines if you're really passionate about painting your nails. You can always choose whatever gender expression you're comfortable with. There are plenty of guys who wear nail polish and otherwise come across as masculine or who are recognized as men. It's important to remember that masculinity is diverse and there's no one right way to be masculine.

Followers, any other tips on performing subtle masculinity that won't make transphobic parents suspicious?

#Lee says #closeted #masculinity #parents m #unsupportive family m

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duskyashe · 10 months

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CAMP NANO DAY 8/9

(please see tags for trigger warnings)

[first three chapters] [AO3]

============<×^-^×>============

It had been a long time since Bruce had been this unbalanced by the thought of a conversation. He was unafraid to admit, if only to himself, that he was terrified about the kinds of things he'd hear from the young woman now sitting across from him. On the way to his office, he'd asked her if she felt safe and comfortable talking to him by herself, or if she'd prefer having his youngest adopted son sit in with them, and while she was understandably hesitant to let an unknown fifteen year old sit in on their discussion, he'd also seen the way she'd unconsciously relaxed when she saw Tim walk in.

"Before we start, my name is Timothy Drake-Wayne, please call me Tim, and you have permission to hug me, cling to me, cry on me, or even squeeze my hand tight enough to break it. Whatever you need to do to get through this discussion. I'll even leave for snacks if you need to say something intensely personal or that you feel I shouldn't hear," his son said with a small, supportive smile. Bruce was so proud of Tim, he'd come so very far since first coming to them. "I'm very well used to standing in as an emotional support person when a foster kid gets comfortable enough with Bruce to want to tell him exactly what happened wherever they'd been before coming here, and I'm perfectly content to keep doing so for as long as I live here."

Bruce watched as Jazz processed everything Tim said and caught the question in her gaze before she'd even opened her mouth to speak it. "Tim has decided he wants to work with CPS when he gets older, take his own experiences with the system and use them to help improve it. I do whatever I can to help him, to help any of the children who find themselves in my care, achieve his dreams," he explained softly, pride warming his heart and voice. "I'm not sure how well you remember him, but my first adopted son, Dick, recently decided to open his own gymnastics studio here in Gotham. His experience with you and Danny when you lived with us really left an impression."

Jazz nodded in understanding before glancing at Tim, reached for his hand, and took a fortifying breath. "My—the Fentons are… scientists, inventors, innovators, they—they discovered, independently, an entire species of interdimensional beings with incredible powers and such a rich mixture of cultures, and… and they decided those beings were unnatural, that they were evil and needed to be experimented on and exterminated. They created a portal to these beings' home dimension in our basement without following any sort of safety regulations or protocols." Jazz took another breath, swallowing as she looked down at hold on Tim's hand. "Th-the green on me and Danny when we first got here, it's called ectoplasm. It's basically the lifeblood of these beings, it makes up almost their entire bodies. Their dimension is full of it, as any excess they produce gets shed off into the environment around them.

"When the Fentons created their portal into the Infinite Realms, they didn't realize they'd installed a secondary switch that also needed to be flicked for the thing to work. A switch that was on the inside of the portal shaft and could only be reached by physically going inside it." She shuddered as she tried to bite back tears. "I wasn't home at the time. I was tutoring a fellow student in English at the local fast food joint. Danny was at home with his two best friends. Mom and dad had left the day before to track down the supposed "ghost" that had caused their magnum opus to fail to work. He should have been safe.

"I got a frantic phone call from Danny's friend, Tucker, telling me I needed to get home ASAP, that Danny'd had an accident and wasn't waking up. The student I was tutoring asked me what I was waiting for, to get going, and so I did. I—by the time I got back to the house, Sam and Tucker had managed to drag Danny away from the portal, but i-it was pretty obvious what the accident was, I mean… the portal hadn't been on before I left…"

Bruce had a bad feeling about where this story was going. He'd seen the product of lab accidents too often to be able to con himself into thinking it could be going in any other direction. He almost stopped her from continuing, but while she was very obviously distressed, the process of telling him, of telling them, seemed to actually be doing her some good, so he kept his silence and watched as she clenched Tim's hand even harder for a brief second before relaxing her grip almost entirely.

"Sam was fussing over Danny's prone form, trying to make him more comfortable on the steel flooring without moving him too much, while Tucker was pacing between the two of them and the swirling mass of green that was the portal when I got there. As soon as they saw me, Tucker was on me with tears in his eyes. "We thought he'd died," he said. "The screaming—we thought he was dead. We're so sorry, he could have died—we're so unbelievably sorry,"" Jazz quoted with a strained voice. "Sam's makeup was running from how much she was crying. Sam never cries, and there she was, kneeling over my barely breathing baby brother, nearly sobbing in terror and guilt. They—Sam had apparently dared Danny to go inside so they could get a picture, and while in there, Danny tripped, and he hit the secondary switch. The Fentons had apparently not turned the other switch off after the thing didn't work the first time, and Danny ended up paying the price of their stupidity. He was alive, he'd survived, but now he's rightfully terrified of anything to do with electricity above what comes out of your stranded wall outlet. Only, come to find out, Danny hadn't survived. Not entirely… not unchanged."

Knew it, Bruce thought wearily as he leaned back in his chair. He resisted the urge to rub his hand across his face or run it through his hair and instead just continued to listen to Jazz's tale.

"The combination of all that electricity running through him, killing him, as a portal made pretty much entirely of ectoplasm opened up literally right on top of him changed Danny on a molecular level. He's no longer fully human. He's now something called a halfa, half human and half… half ghost."

============<×^-^×>============

FINALLY got that finished! I sincerely apologize for not getting this out yesterday, I had to take a general health day due to both my lactose intolerance realizing, three days after the fact, that I'd eaten dairy and decided it didn't like that at all, and my sleep schedule being crap the past two days (⁠-⁠_⁠-⁠;⁠) that's why today's post says "day 8/9", I'm counting it for both days since I *did* start writing it yesterday (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ

For anyone reading this directly after day 6 but hasn't read any of the reblogs of day 6, this is actually chapter 4 of this fic, not chapter 2. I have two amazing co-writers who have each written an amazing chapter for this fic, which can be more easily read on AO3 by hitting the link up at the top!

Also, due to this fic having two co-writers for it, from now on, when I post a new chapter for it here on Tumblr, I won't be linking back to my previous chapter, since there will be two chapters between each of my own. Instead, I'll be linking back to the first post back on day 6 and to the AO3 version, where the entire fic will be readily available for reading.

Also also, because this is being co-written, any and all updates for this fic will be highly sporadic at best. Please don't harass me or my co-writers for quicker updates, we're all very busy people working together to write this purely for fun.

Have a wonderful morning/day/night everyone!

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andypantsx3 · 2 years

Text

fingerprints | 1 | todoroki x reader

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 3.8k of est. 20k words | 1 of 7 chapters

summary: When you’re outed as pro hero Shouto’s soulmate on national television, there are really only two sensible things for you to do: blame someone else and run.

tags/warnings: romance, soulmate au, fluff, pining, not actually unrequited love, aged up characters, eventual smut

Basically everything could be blamed on one very orange, very demanding, very spoiled kitten.

She hadn’t been named yet, given that she’d been surrendered to the shelter when she was only a few weeks old, so you couldn’t name names exactly how you wanted to. But the point of fact was that you were only in place to meet your soulmate because she had gotten into a pile of the remaining puppy pads, and had shredded the entirety.

If she had been well-behaved, or if your coworker had been a little less of a sucker for her big brown eyes, or if anyone had had the same understanding you did that Little Miss Orange was absolutely not to be trusted—none of it would have happened. And you might have never met your soulmate, or have ever experienced the landslide of events that followed directly thereafter—neither the good, the bad, or the very unexpected.

But the orange kitten had gotten into the puppy pads, only ten minutes before you’d gotten on shift, and Mari was already flagging you down from behind the front desk as you made it into the shelter that morning, waving you over frantically.

“Please, I need you to run back out and get more puppy pads—the little orange girl got into the supply,” Mari said breathlessly, the criminal in question perched directly on her shoulder, looking deeply unrepentant and actually very pleased with herself.

You had no doubt that Mari had purposefully let the kitten into the supply room with her for some company–-completely whipped after only two days of sheltering her, though anyone who had experienced the kitten for more than five minutes could have predicted her criminal intent.

“Please tell me you’re kidding,” you said, only because it was literally sleeting outside, the closest pet supply was at least a twenty minute walk away, and your gloves had finally given up the ghost this morning, after almost three generations of wear and tear.

“Unless you want us to be cleaning poop directly off the floor for the next day or two, then yeah, I’m serious,” Mari said, sounding almost as unrepentant as the kitten looked.

You huffed. You so did not want to be cleaning up poop this afternoon, either, so it was really a question of suffer now or suffer later. And considering the size of some of the dogs you’d been sheltering as of late, you really did not want to suffer later.

“Oh hell—okay yes, I am going,” you finally allowed, turning almost straight back around.

You were not about to play games here. After several years working at an animal shelter, you were fairly well-versed in the requirements of all the animals, all of the things you might need to keep things clean, fun, and as low stress as possible. This week, you had several big dogs in the process of being adopted out, one very sweet and very shy bunny, a pair of tiny, shivery chihuahuas with the most deafening vocal range you had ever experienced, and a litter of orange and cream-spotted kittens, of whom Little Miss Orange was indisputably the princess.

The princess of puppy pad destruction.

You stepped back out of the shelter and into the torrent of sleet that painted the cityscape a violent, churning white. Even when only a few feet ahead of you, your fellow pedestrians were little more than silhouettes, hunched and nearly colorless through the snow. The sidewalk was a dangerous pool of greying snowmelt that slid out from under you as you stepped onto it, and the buildings around you all but vanished into the sleet barely ten feet above your head.

By the time you made it closer to downtown, your scarf hung heavy with the weight of built up sleet, your fingers were numb, and your cheeks and ears ached with the cold. You shivered in your jacket, which had appeared much cozier on the sale rack than it was when tested against the elements.

The pet supply was wedged in between an upscale grocery, which boasted a riot of brightly colored flowers in the window despite the season, and a stately-looking bank, through whose windows you could see two bored tellers almost asleep at their counters. You grabbed the door handle with frozen fingers, and hurried into the warm interior of the pet store, shuddering violently.

The store was familiar—a biweekly checkpoint for you, as part of your job at the shelter—and it always smelled exactly like the shelter—grainy kibble, fresh hay, and recently applied floor cleaner. You always liked it here, especially when people brought their own pets in, and what might have been a five minute endeavor often turned into fifteen minutes of pets and coos and enthusiastic kisses. There was only one other patron in there with you this time, aside from the college student cashier slumped over a pile of homework.

You made your way to the back, gathering up as many packs of puppy pads as you could feasibly hold, and took your time meandering over to the checkout, soaking in the warmth of the shop.

And then, just as you finished checking out, credit card just tucked back into your bag—it happened.

A violent slam rocked the building, causing the floor under your feet to shudder angrily, like a juddering wave. You stumbled, banging an elbow on the counter, and the cashier tripped over onto the register, saving herself with a hand on the buttons.

“What the hell—?” you demanded reflexively, peering around. You rubbed your stinging elbow.

“I know! What—what do you think that was?” the cashier asked nervously, straightening herself.

The store was quiet for a moment—normal, as you looked around—before another brutal blow shook the building, sending you staggering back into the counter. The other customer quickly came scurrying out from between the shelves as they lurched frighteningly.

“Ooookay this is terrifying,” you said. “Do you think we need to get outside in case the building comes down?”

The women nodded, and that was really all the agreement you needed to get the hell out of there.

Except, as you dashed for the door, another violent shudder wracked the building, sending all three of you stumbling into one another.

And then, just as you righted yourselves, the wall to the bank next door exploded.

One second you were reaching out for balance against the other two women—and the next you were on your back, blinking dazedly up at the ceiling. Something sharp dug into your thigh above your knee, hard and unyielding, and there was a strange weight against your shoulder, pinning it to the floor. Something moved next to you, soft, and you glanced down to find one leg of a pair of blue jeans, kicking out from under a pile of grey cement—the other woman who’d come running out from the shelves.

“Holy shit—” you coughed, something strange and grainy coating the back of your throat. You choked, wheezing out, “Are you okay?”

“I—I think so,” a voice floated back to you from the other side of the cement pile, and the leg shifted again, pressing against your hip.

“Can you breathe?” you asked.

“I—yes. Yes,” the woman answered back.

You nodded, though she couldn’t see you, trying to sit up. Only, the thing above you kept you anchored against the floor, unmoving. You glanced down to find your own chunk of cement arching up over your body, two protruding pieces pressing against your shoulder and thigh. Your heartbeat kicked up, spiking straight into your throat.

Oh fuck.

Oh big fuck.

You swore, going still under the cement, not wanting to disturb it any lest it fall directly onto your chest instead. You realized your shoulder and thigh hurt where the chunk was digging into them, a bright haze of pain that you couldn’t believe you hadn’t felt at first.

You hoped to god nothing was broken.

In the muddle of your own confusion, you could hear sounds pouring over the rise of the cement, voices shouting, and the wet slap of feet in the sleet outside. There was another boom, and the ground shook underneath you, and then there were several loud crackles that pinged off the rock around you, magnifying the sound.

In the distance, you heard a siren start up. More people began yelling, their tones horrified, voices strained with panic.

And then, something strangely familiar, though you couldn’t quite place it—-a crackling, crystalline sound, ringing out clearly. The ground shook again, several loud slams echoing in the hollowed out space of the pet supply.

It was then that you remembered the cashier girl, too, and your head whipped around, searching for evidence of her. Over the crackling sounds, and the sudden shriek of voices outside, you managed to yell. “Hello—cashier girl? Cashier girl, are you okay?”

If there was any answer, it was drowned out by a sudden burst of heat, a roar of flame, and the concrete lit up bright orange, momentarily blinding you. The shrieks got louder.

There was a sudden ruckus of sounds you couldn’t place—all loud, violent, completely jarring. You lay still, frozen, as over the course of minutes the sounds grew louder, as the ground continued to shudder and shake around you.

And then finally, almost as quickly as it all began—things went quiet.

You could hear your own breaths—rapid, panicked, rasping—as you yelled out, “Hello? Is anyone there? People are trapped in here!”

It was only a few moments before you heard the rapid crunch of boots on the gritty floor, and then a familiar head of red and white hair peered around the cement block pinning you down. Your heart fluttered in recognition—a weird little thrill of relief and interest.

Pro hero Shouto.

The hero's hair was mussed from combat, color high in his cheeks, and there was a tear along his high collar and down one arm of his suit. Your eyes dragged down his face greedily, and it felt quite suddenly like the concrete block had tipped over and crushed all the air from your chest.

In person, Todoroki Shouto was the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

It had been one thing to see him on news broadcasts—all tall, lean, and strong, with a face biologically engineered to strike a woman dumb. But it was another to see him in person, to see the sharp perfection of this man up close. To witness the perfect symmetry of his face, the flex of a hard bicep under his suit, the way his temperature jacket strained over those broad shoulders. To be subjected to the hot intensity of his gaze as he quickly made his way over to you, that pert mouth forming a question.

“Is anything broken?” he asked, in a low, soft tone you recognized from a thousand TV broadcasts.

You shook your head. “I don’t think so—but there’s another woman on the other side of me, also pinned down, who might be in worse condition. And there was a cashier girl in the store with us who I can’t find now.”

Todoroki nodded. He waved a hand, and a slow cascade of ice poured from it, creeping up around your body, pressing up along the concrete block. Slowly, carefully, it shifted it off of you, and your shoulder and leg began to throb in earnest, somehow hurting more now that the weight was off of you.

Todoroki quickly stepped around you, sending another wave of ice curling up along the other woman’s side, slowly shifting the concrete off of her too. You watched him quickly make his way deeper into the store, a couple of meters, halting when he found something. Another wave of ice told you he’d located the cashier girl.

You slowly clambered up on your knees, watching as Todoroki crouched, pulling the cashier girl up into his arms. Your gut churned, watching her hang there limply, hoping she was okay.

“I’m going to get her to the EMTs,” Todoroki said, quickly making his way back through the rubble. “Do not move, I will return quickly.”

As he spoke, spikes of ice formed at his boots, swelling up into several enormous walls, pressing up against the remainder of the ceiling, propping it in place.

“Got it,” you said, though you guessed he meant the other woman more than you. Your whole entire body hurt, now, probably covered in a million tiny scrapes, but your shoulder and leg were clearly not broken—just massively cut up.

The EMTs must have been waiting just outside because Todoroki was back in under a minute, stooping over the other woman. You watched his handsome face shift in concentration, watched him press gentle fingers along the worst of her injuries, asking her questions in his low tone.

His voice was almost hypnotizing, so low and calm, and you almost forgot you were rocked up in a recently-collapsed nightmare hellscape.

He must have assessed the woman’s injuries as non-severe, as he helped her to her feet, pulling an arm over her shoulder and walking her over to you. Her steps were ginger but effective. Todoroki propped her up against the concrete, and then squatted down next to you.

Your heartbeat kicked into your throat and you concentrated on breathing normally as he leaned over you. Those heterochromatic eyes flickered over you, checking you for injury, rapidly calculating where and how you’d been injured. “Your shoulder and leg—can you move them?” he asked.

You shrugged your shoulder and wiggled your leg compliantly. “I’m fine. I think I’m just bruised, probably—it doesn’t feel like anything is broken.”

Todoroki nodded. “I’m going to help you stand, then. Tell me if anything hurts.”

You murmured your assent, heart shooting all the way into your mouth as Todoroki got an arm under your shoulder, the other under your leg. You probably wouldn’t have noticed any change in sensation even if it had occurred, as suddenly, all your nerve endings were concentrated directly under his hands, shivering in the warmth and the careful strength of his touch.

You tried to force your attention back to your extremities, evaluating whether anything hurt more as you stood.

They really should have made the pros uglier, just for public safety.

Once he’d gotten you to your feet, Todoroki helped you test your step, eyes hot on you as you winced involuntarily at the sore shift of your leg muscles. He stooped and pulled your arm over his shoulder, and then moved to get the other woman’s arm over his other shoulder, keeping a firm hold on you both.

It was mostly under Todoroki’s strength that you made it out into the still-whipping sleet, air cold in your lungs. Despite the weather, a crowd had gathered, scores of onlookers knotted along the sidewalk, several medical transports pulled up alongside the building. Next to them, EMTs were checking over a few injured people who must have been from the bank building. Police sirens flashed, lighting up the sheets of sleet a blinding red, and a couple of officers were struggling to cordon off the block, with the crush of interested onlookers.

Several news vans had also arrived, and you could hear a few breathless reporters detailing the scene.

Todoroki helped you over to two waiting EMTs, first depositing the other woman into their arms. You made to pull back from him as well, heartbeat going haywire from all the time you had spent pressed along his strong, hard body.

And then it happened.

The thing that set everything into motion. The thing that would have never even been possible, if it wasn’t for one tiny, spoiled kitten, who’d sent you out into the snow in the first place. The thing that would set you on an alternate course for the rest of your life.

As you jerked your arm back, you accidentally knocked Todoroki in the cheek, embarrassingly antsy in your attempt to get off of him. You reeled back, stumbling, and Todoroki quickly caught you around the arms, catching you before you slid right into the slush.

“Oh shit—sorry!” You said hastily, reflexively gripping the sleeve of his uniform for balance.

You could feel a paramedic’s hands on your shoulder, helping right you as well.

And then you noticed it, high on Todoroki’s cheekbone. Two fingerprints, dark like ink, standing out starkly against his pale, perfect skin. Two fingerprints that had not been there when he’d helped you over his shoulder and started walking you out onto the street.

Two fingerprints—which looked terribly, horribly like two soulmarks, two impossibilities, right in front of your eyes.

You blinked.

That had to be wrong.

Maybe you had whacked your head and hadn’t realized it. Maybe you had been crushed to death under the concrete and you were wishing desperately for this entire rescue in your final moments. Maybe the stress of the entire thing was getting to you and you were hallucinating the literally impossible as some kind of trauma response.

Because the soulmarks couldn’t be possible.

Not that soulmarks themselves were impossible. But on Todoroki Shouto, right where you thought had just touched him…

Soulmates were common enough. Purportedly everyone had one, whether or not they were lucky enough to meet them in this lifetime. Every person on earth was linked to a soulmate, a destined other, a person you would know by the marks you left behind on them and only them. When your fingers pressed to their skin, you would leave behind fingerprints, that would slowly fade with time. But they would tell you that that person was yours, your one, your soulmate.

For most people, the soulmate relationship that resulted was romantic.

Scientifically speaking, the fingerprint reaction was born of an innate compatibility, a body chemistry that induced a particular physical reaction during skin-on-skin contact between the hand and other parts of the body, and there was no implicit romance tied up in that respect. Not everyone experienced physical attraction, some people were already emotionally tied up in another person by the time they found their soulmate, and a lot of people experienced chemistry in different respects. So there was no guarantee of exactly what it meant to be someone’s soulmate.

But it was largely a romantic connection, for most.

Which is why it was one hundred billion percent impossible that you had left those marks on Todoroki Shouto’s horribly perfect cheekbone.

You had to be hallucinating.

Except, then the paramedic behind you suddenly went still. You could hear several intakes of breath from the people around you, the other woman who’d been in the pet store with you let out a little gasp. They’d seen the fingerprints too.

Todoroki blinked, alarmed, looking around at the people who had suddenly turned to peer at him in interest.

Hot panic rose up in your throat, as someone exclaimed, “A soulmark! Shouto, is that a soulmark?”

Those heterochromatic eyes went wide, and for a moment, they flickered to you. For a moment, all you could see was two points of grey and blue, holding your gaze in mutual shock as you both ran through the unlikely thing that was beginning to unfold between you.

And then there was the slap of feet in wet slush, and one of the nearby reporters was darting over, nose pink from the cold. Her cameraman was only seconds behind her, and then they were pushing into the crowd of EMTs. There was a startled call from one of the policemen, and you could hear the slosh of more feet in the snow, as more people quickly made their way over.

“Is it possible?” The reporter asked breathlessly, microphone to her mouth. “There appear to be two soulmarks on pro hero Shouto’s face!”

It wasn’t possible.

It literally wasn’t possible.

You knew in only a few seconds, once the shock of seeing the marks on Todoroki’s face tempered, that there was only one natural follow up question that everyone would have. Only one possible way for that soulmark to have appeared on Todoroki’s face.

Someone would have had to have put it there.

Recently.

Your panic seized you, coming over you in a white haze.

Your eyes slid between Todoroki, his handsome face perfectly still in his surprise, and the other woman from the pet supply, still slumped in between Todoroki and the EMT he’d handed her down to.

Still within reach, still feasibly someone who had touched him, too.

It could have been her, right?

She might have touched him, before you’d accidentally knocked him in the cheek. She’d been on that side, after all, as he’d helped you two out of the ruined pet supply. It was completely probable that she’d touched him on the face, too, a quick little brush as he helped her off of his shoulder.

It could have been her.

It had to have been her.

You opened your mouth before you could think better of it, and the words tumbled out of you. “It’s her! That woman there! She’s Shouto’s soulmate!” Your hand flung out, finger pointing at the woman in question.

There was one second of quiet, as everyone registered your shout. Todoroki’s eyes narrowed in on yours.

And then there was a sudden crush of people, crowding in around Todoroki and the woman, people exclaiming this way and that, a press of jackets and scarves and surprise and excitement. You were knocked to the side by several eager elbows, a reporter’s microphone flying past your injured shoulder and into Shouto’s face. The click of a thousand phone photos being taken and camera shutters going off underlaid the clamoring voices.

You quickly ducked between two women as they crowded in, sliding out from between Todoroki and the EMT, shoes slipping in the slush. More people crowded in as the police perimeter failed, and people came running to see just who had put a mark on the number four hero, the most eligible bachelor in the entire country.

You ducked and wove between people, your panic driving you as you emerged from the throng. Sleet whipped you in the face, cold and wet and shocking on the sudden heat of your skin. Your leg throbbed, shoulder singing in a reminder of your injury.

You stumbled, just catching yourself before faceplanting in the slush.

You looked back just for a minute, watching Todoroki’s tall silhouette disappearing into the mass of fans and reporters.

And then, picking up speed—-you did the only thing you could think of.

You ran.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki #bnha x reader

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lullabyes22-blog · 4 months

Note

Sometimes I feel like one of those cats that isn’t yours but, instead of occasionally leaving mice or birds by your door, I drop a wholeass AU at your feet.

I have another one :D it’s kind of a wild ride, I do apologize in advance for the essay XD

I simply call this The Robot AU (It’s a little more complicated from robots, they’re more of a horrific combination of mechanical and flesh all stemming back from the supernova-ed remains of a dead god)

By far the strangest one is Sevika as her origins are complicated leading to a unique upbringing. She is something called a Disasembaler, but more than that she is of a phased out subtype called ‘The Constructed’ people who were built in factories instead of developing on the mycelium-like root system or being born to parents. The Constructed are most commonly made during war time or a time of high economic stress to keep up with a high demand for soldiers or workers if supply is dwindling, a key draw to them is that they are already in adult forms, with developed brains and functioning bodies and pre-existing coding, meaning they don’t have to be trained.

Sevika’s particular branch was made specifically to be killing machines as their name would suggest. They were created by Piltover to quell one of the first uprisings, the squadrons that were made were launched into the city via individual shuttles meant to both carry the person inside to their desired location and to cause as much damage to the infrastructure as possible.

Sevika was an interesting case because her pod didn’t open and instead of self-destructing, due to faulty wiring, she instead went dormant for several melinia until one day it spat her out. Sevika never really had a childhood, she was “born” an adult, while her brain was technically fully developed she understood the world about as well as a newborn. Being seen as a boogie-man and the literal face of death she wasn’t exactly perceived well, leading to feelings of alienation and building resentment, these were later weaponized by Silco to get her on his side.

Though Sevika was given the nickname “the dragon” due to a slight defect in her waste disposal system. Usually the waste produced takes the form of liquid that once it hits the air it turns into a colorless, odorless gas expelled along openings along various parts of the body, most of them are located along the back. However, hers invade into the ventilation chamber and have holes in them, having not not fully been processed the liquid is red. This then spills into her ventilation chamber causing her to constantly express a highly flammable gas.

Silco is something called a “Firstborn” which comes directly from the mycelium-like structures, one of two things happens to them, they are taken to group homes or adopted into families, the former happened to him. (it's nothing really official people can basically go to "the baby spot" and pick out a child the way someone does a pastry) ironically people like this are seen as more pure as they are believed to be more closely connected with their god. After being drowned and exposed to the Pilt’s toxins the metal covering his face began to be eaten away by “red rot” or by its better known name, rust.

He hides this with a porcelain mask, it used to be just white but he allowed Jinx to decorate it and never painted over. If you were to take it off that the rust has eaten away part of his face plate allowing for the intricate metal structures and delicate inner workings (which would usually be protected by said face plate) to be exposed. The rust has also started to spread to the inner workers leading to more and more difficulty with mauvering that side of his face. (think: chewing, smiling, blinking, and even movement of the eye itself)

If you look at his left hand you’ll notice that he’s missing his pinky finger. This is courtesy of Sevika.

Jinx is something called a Derivative. These are people who were born to parents rather than being made in a factory or coming from the “original source”. As she is younger and is the next generation she reflects a newer, sleeker design. Most notably her face is a screen able to project a typical face or can replace her expressions with emoticons. She’s upgraded herself multiple times installing weapon systems, however this altering has become something of an addiction, to the point of being akin to self mutilation.

With the need to constantly change she is almost unrecognizable from the girl she used to be, one might notice that she was trying to mimic Silco in her younger years, but is now starting to try her own aesthetics.

It’s also not recommended for a growing person to undergo so many drastic changes such as weapon installments, leading to her having stunted growth and some internal deformities similar to Sevika’s. However instead of spitting focus fluid into her lungs she simply bleeds into them leading to the formation of crystalline structures which inhibit her breathing.

Vi (as Jinx’s sister) looks very similar to how Jinx used to look before her modifications. However, something that is to be noted is that her gauntlets are not something she can slip on and off, they are now a permanent part of her. She is still trying to figure out how to live with big ass hands.

Mel is by far the one who underwent the most change other than Jinx. She started as a war machine like her mother with heavy armor and internal weapon systems. However when she was banished she rid herself of her heavy armor for something sleeker and removed her weapon systems. This was to her mother’s disapproval but ya know…. It’s kind of the point.

A staple of Piltover is to have over the top modifications. (think outfits from the capitol in hunger games, except permanent) whereas the people who live in Zaun can’t afford these types of changes (except if they do it themselves and if they do they tend to try to bulk-up for greater protection).

I welcome all your AUs they are like delicious treats for my brain to chew on 😭💗💗💗

Oooh this is a fascinating one - especially given all the chem-modifications and body augmentations already present in Zaun, all of which are deeply cyberpunk-dystopia.

I like the idea of Jinx's crystals inhibiting her breathing - a secondhand metaphor for the trauma that inhibits her full growth. Imagine Sevika as exuding fiery spume every moment - she would legit shimmer at a distance like a heat mirage on the highway. Also someone should draw Mel's upgraded armor I am sure it's pure gold - literally 💫

Also imagine Fortiche animating all this in Angel's Egg art style 🥺👀

#asks #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane silco #silco #arcane jinx #jinx #arcane sevika #sevika #arcane mel #mel medarda

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staying-elive · 7 months

Text

I so wish Figaro had been in TFATWS. Would've been so easy even if Hollywood doesn't like working with animals.

I can imagine it though.

Figaro chilling in the kitchen as Sam and Sarah talk...

Sam could've given him a cute little boop or a little forehead kissy kiss like he does to the boat. 🥹

Speaking of the boat, Figaro could've been chilling in the background while Sam worked by himself...

*bonus points if he gets another little kiss boop after Sam kisses the engine. (He's so cute 🥹😭)

(I'm just imagining him sleeping on that shelf in front of the window)

Figaro chilling while watching Sam and Bucky work...

(This would be his audition process for future fellow Cat Dad Bucky 😆)

Bucky waking up and Figaro's just chilling on top of him...

('Congratulations, human, you've made it through to the next stage.')

Basically, Figaro would be all of us! 🥰🥰🥰

Also, sets up nicely Bucky going... "Yeah, I want one of these too. This is nice." (Enter Alpine!)

Seriously though, from a more meta angle, Sam being a cat dad would've been a subtle hint to him not being the extrovert open book many people mistake him for. He doesn't open up easily until the time and effort is taken for him to trust someone. Plus I've always headcanoned that Sam adopted Figaro after he left the air force and Riley died. Like he became a support animal that helped Sam get up in the morning and take care of himself because he had a little buddy to also take care of.

Because I also imagine Figaro chilling in the background of Sam's CAWS home...

(Of course Nat would trust Sam right away. He's a Cat Dad! 😁)

And then during Endgame, Nat could've had Figaro with her! (Maybe Sam's neighbour who'd looked after him after Sam was a fugitive also got blipped and Figaro was sent to the Avengers Compound...)

Especially since this scene between Nat and Steve reflects on the people they've lost. i.e. SAM! The missing third person of their fugitive trio 😭😭

Basically what I'm saying is... I want more Figaro! Everywhere. He represents love and grief but also healing.

Love is stored in the Cat. Thank you.

#figaro #figaro meta #sam wilson meta #sam wilson #sambucky #sambucky meta #tfatws #sorry for all the gifs i just like envisioning a cute little cat in every scene #this got more angsty then intended #but still #give Sam his cat!#i'm gonna go give my own cat a little kissy kiss and a boop #sam wilson headcanons

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anonymous-dentist · 5 months

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saw that you had some discussion about the pepito retconning and otipep. i was very surprised to see people hating it so much, and am disappointed by it being retconned.

i read the situation as pepito throwing a tantrum, because pepito is a small child and small children do stuff like that all the time. not pepito not actually wanting roier as a parent. little kids are dramatic all the time.

otipep does not exist and never existed, regardless of retcon. it was the explanation roier made to explain to himself why his child was having a tantrum because he wasn’t in a place where he could deal with it. it’s not reality, they’re not separate characters. it’s just pepito.

You see, the thing about Otipep is that he directly insulted the streamer, and he refuse to "Yes-And" with him, and that's the number one thing in any kind of improv storytelling. They were a different admin from what the audience and Roier were used to, and that's fine, we're used to it. What isn't fine is that Otipep refused to work with Roier and insulted him and ignored him and walked away every time ccRoier tried explaining what he and Admin 07's Pepito had been doing for the past few days. Call it a tantrum, that's fine, but it's also a dick move when it's your literal job to work with the streamers to tell a story. Look at the way other eggs have thrown tantrums, and then look at Otipep.

You'll be hard-pressed to find a Hispanic fan that actually liked the Otipep Day and that's because Otipep came in and immediately and actively destroyed days' worth of storytelling and wrecked a cc's attempts at a story to the point of the cc giving up on the rp for the day and going to build and even getting off the server a little earlier than planned because like? Okay? Sure, destroy yet another one of Roier's planned Lores, it's not like people have been doing that since the first week of the server.

The only people that I've seen defending Otipep at all have been English-Onlies who saw Otipep's English sign and bed basically screaming to the world "ROIER IS A TERRIBLE FATHER AND SOMEONE NEEDS TO ADOPT ME! PREFERABLY SOMEONE WHO SPEAKS ENGLISH BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT I TYPED THIS SIGN IN! NOT THE LANGUAGE ANY OF MY PARENTS SPEAK!"

And what happened after people saw that sign? Well, English fans all went "Well this obviously proves that Roier is a terrible father and that Bad should adopt Pepito instead. He's been a bad father all along, and he's just as evil and insane as Cellbit is." This, in turn, started the process of the Hispanic fandom yet again losing a character on the server; at this point, it's legit just Roier and Quackity because Pol isn't allowed online for Lore Reasons and qMaxo is dead and everybody else just doesn't log on as often. Do you see the problem here?

Roier describing Otipep to Richarlyson legit made Richas' admin go "WHAT????" because that was Not professional behavior on Otipep's Admin's part. And that's the biggest thing here, I think: the lack of professionalism at play when you're hired to play your part and work with people "in the spotlight" (aka the streamers) but you aren't cooperating at all. It's like going to work at a grocery store and being told you're working the registers that day and going "No, actually, I'm going to stock shelves". You don't do that at work, and you definitely don't do that live on stream in front of 10k+ viewers.

I work in childcare. I know a tantrum when I see it, and Otipep could be seen as one. But you have to keep in mind the meta aspects here and think, wow, this is fucked up from a meta perspective! Going out of your way to ruin the fun of someone else just because you want the story to go a certain way? Not to be tolerated in any kind of collaborative setting. My dnd groups have kicked people from the table for less.

It got to the point where Quackity himself has to say it isn't canon, and, well. I think we can see that there was a genuine problem.

#asks!#anon!#does that make sense anon?

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genericpuff · 6 months

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I followed artsangel since her previous comic immaterial. I have to say she IS talented and has the skills. But her style is verrrrry time consuming and she would only update every 2 weeks. I used to study her art a lot because I was always impressed by it, and Im fairly certain it did not look like like that when it was on canvas. I used to see her progresses on her stories and she uses a lot of assets and predrawn faces to keep her consistent pixar look. The faces were less uncanny and more expressive. Now the eyes are all wonky and displaced.

I think she may have used ai to polish her panels. Perhaps the workload proved too much, or maybe she was feeling insecure. I was concerned when she got picked up by webtoon because I could tell it would be difficult for her to keep up the schedule. Ai is super powerful but its not powerful enough to make a COMIC, not even consistently. She probably using it as an enhancer to her already great skills. A shame though, she doesn’t need it.

Also I think the reason her preproduction period was so quick is because she was highly prepared before launch. She already has multiple comics under her belt and webtoon probably didn’t need to change much. Im sure she just reused her canvas comic for her reboot and built a buffer in the meantime.

Having to meet deadlines can definitely be a reason but not an excuse IMO.

One creator I can think of who has a similar style (albeit in black and grey) is figmentforms, creator of A Tale of Two Rulers.

Updates are slow, she posts maybe a new page once a month, the art is gorgeous but it's clear it takes her time. It's a free to read comic. It's worth the wait.

That said, if she wanted to make her updates more frequent, I wouldn't blame her at all for utilizing new tools and methods to do so - but it wouldn't justify her in using AI tools that are stealing other people's art.

There are loads of shortcuts that artists already use that are fine because they're still genuinely handcrafted. 3D models, overlay textures, blur effects, etc. are all tools that artists use to help speed up the drawing process and were made by hand.

And beyond that, the need to make the process more efficient isn't a crime, but it's in how you do it. You can use these tools irresponsibly or at the cost of your own comic's quality. Case in point, Lore Olympus and Let's Play, which are both godawful in how they implement 3D backgrounds and stock images:

Creating comics is finding a balance between efficiency and quality, not sacrificing one for the other and using it as justification to avoid criticism for that sacrifice.

If Sarah Ellerton was using AI based on her own art and being honest about it, I don't think anyone would be nearly as upset. It might prompt a debate over what's ethical in the world of comics - whether or not it's right for consumers to pay for a product that's being churned out of an AI prompt - but at least it wouldn't be theft and it would probably just be there as an aid to an artist who's been doing this for 20 years and had to find a way to make the process more efficient. I think AI can be used as a productive tool if it's implemented responsibly and without being at the cost of another artist's work.

The issue is that 1.) Sarah is being VERY suspicious over the whole thing which leads us to believe that she's NOT using ethical AI assistance, and 2.) there's a VERY clear distinction near the end of her previous comic, Immaterial, where you can basically tell when she adopted AI. The main character Alex, for example, literally became a whole other person.

This is a common problem for AI coloring prompts, a LOT of them are bad at rendering darker skin tones (I think I mentioned this in my last post, but I literally got to playtest AI coloring tools from WT's a couple years ago, and they could NOT figure out darker skin tones, any dark colors that were put down were assumed to be shadows so characters just looked like white characters with the curtains pulled over their face).

She just looks like a SamDoesArts poster girl now. Everything unique about her has been stripped away and you can see this transition in the final page of Immaterial and the first episode of Quantum Entanglement:

None of it feels like organically her, it feels like a cheap machine reproduction.

I don't doubt that this person has evolved a lot as an artist or that her older work was genuinely her, she's clearly got a lot of skill that only someone who's been drawing comics for years would gain.

But it's clear somewhere along the way she succumbed to insecurity or stopped caring enough to start using AI to do the heavy lifting. I mean honestly, her work from before was fine! So I don't see why she would be using it for 'polishing', there are so many ugly ass webtoons on the platform so even the art from Immaterial - even if she had to simplify it a bit more to make it easier to meet deadlines - would likely be a refreshing change of pace.

But the way she's utilized AI here, I was quicker to assume Sam Yang drew Quantum Entanglement when I first saw it.

And it is a shame, because, as you said, she doesn't need it. Her art is perfectly capable on its own and while I can understand her need to make the process more efficient, there are better ways to do that than using AI that's clearly ripping off other artists and then lying about it. It's a shame she'd put her reputation on the line as a seasoned artist just to meet Webtoons' stupid deadlines. Like, how can it be worth it?

#quantum entanglement #webtoon critical #anti AI

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osatokun · 7 months

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Hey, do you mind if I ask what your process is for drawing scenes/rooms? They have such a nice flow and soft feeling to them that I admire so much. My own scenes get a very stiff and naked-looking perspective, and I'd like to improve on that.

Hello! Thank you! <3 For complicated perspective shots I use very basic 3d models, it helps a lot in figuring out the right angle. I'm not good with perspective myself and I have too many ideas that needs to jump over my head and do it FAST before inspiration fades. So this is the good tool. (obviously, I start with thinking out the idea and composition first, and then figuring out perspective. The app is called design doll)

Then I sketch over

then *draw the damn owl* XD

The biggest part is to think about characters on the picture, where they are, what they like, what are they doing etc. This exact picture is a small celebration of ressurection of that little pink bear-chimera. All of the kids are living hard life, more or less they are all warriors (a werewolf, 2 changelings (and Glinda) and a vampire, Prince's adopted daughter).But Charlie want to let them be kids as long as they can. And then the details comes from the understanding of the characters. Werewolf kid has 2 boxes of noodles (and probably finishing up 3rd) because they eat A LOT and use a ton of energy. Vampire kid has no food because vampires rarely can eat food, Charlie is a special bean. They left a bun for Charlie because he doesn't like to eat much (he doesn't need too), but still enjoys the taste and sharing meal. He is busy changing plates and washing tho. There are werewolf's hoodie on the chair and a backpack, because it's Charlie's and Glinda's home, everyone but Monica are guests. There are coffee machine because Glinda works A LOT during the day and also wants to hang out with her new found family at nights. Each syrup bottle picked according to Glinda's and Monica's taste. a ton of frogs stuff- Glinda loves them. An unfinished painting-the abandoned woods in Umbra. Halloween lights-it's Charlie's favorite holiday. Little duck - one of the first things Charlie saw when he first come to Glinda's house (it sit in the sink, drifting in pink colored water). A bouquet of raspberry - Charlie gave it to Glinda in the first days of dating to impress her ( he also thought it had a good symbolism). he killed people to get this bouquet (no joke!!) I'm sorry, I got carried away! But if your question was only about perspective, you have the answer!

#ask

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silverskye13 · 2 months

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just binged all of redstone and skulk in one go. HOLY SHIT!!! i left some comments on ao3 but that wasn't enough. i needed to come to your tumblr too bc this fic has Changed Me A Little. it makes sense- i've been subscribed to you on ao3 for a while (remember hound's tooth? i think that was when i started following your writing. and monsters splitting hairs, although i'm not quite caught up on that one), and that was for a good reason- but tanguish and helsknight are something else! part of why i like fanfiction is because i get to see more of characters i already like- it takes a special fic to get me so invested in characters i've basically just met! and you do it so well! like. the subtle character things! the way i can pick out the hermits' (and martyn's, but i'm calling him a hermit for the sake of convenience) traits in the helsmits, but warped and twisted around like a funhouse mirror? fantastic. i love it. im eating that shit up. the ilttle differences and similarities between tango and tanguish, helsknight and wels (bc he isn't acting very knightly right now), impulse and the demon- it's so cool to see! i also saw the other ask you got where you talked about your process, and how you give your characters a list of traits as a guide to writing them- i'm definitely going to have to borrow that trick. it works! so well! it shows in your writing in the consistency of how the characters behave!

some other thoughts i had while reading:

helsknight being religious probably has a lot more to do with him being a knight than wels being a lutheran irl (which is where his name comes from and i find that hilarious), but still. if it's unintentional it's hilarious and if it's on purpose then it's a fun easter egg!

i relate to and understand tanguish, because i too would want to befriend helsknight, and also because if a bunch of big scary people basically adopted me and tried to teach me how to use a knife i would be so pathetic about it.

i relate to and understand helsknight and tango, because tanguish is the weirdest little cat ever and i too am captivated by his pathetic little freak charms, and i want to be his friend.

i neither relate to nor understand wels, because 1) if i saw my friend's presumably-evil counterpart skulking around the shopping district i would likely call them first (just seems like the polite thing to do, and also bc if helsknight showed up and the ppl who found him didn't call wels about it i feel like he'd probably be more than a little pissed), and 2) look at tanguish. he's just a little guy. he's a little guy and it's his birthday. how could you be mean to him.

tl;dr: redstone and skulk has compelled me to the point that leaving comments on ao3 wasn't enough, i needed to ramble straight into your inbox because it's just so good.

Oh my gosh! Firstly: thank you for all the kind words! I'm glad you're liking my writing so far, and thank you both for the comments and the scurry into the inbox. I love hearing people's thoughts, even if I don't have the spoons to respond to everyone all the time :'D

For your bullet points:

-- I didn't know Wels was Lutheran! I knew he was ex-military, and at least in my family's trends, military and religiosity go hand in hand, so it makes sense. But still! Learning new fun facts! I know nothing about the Lutheran Church [I was raised Baptist.] Probably gonna do some reading later.

-- I feel like Tanguish is going through that phase of "all the biker/military uncles have decided I'm one of them for some reason" and as someone who has gone through that before, for the same baffling non-reasons [used power tools in their presence once, a la Tanguish barely participating in a fight once] I sympathize. Very interesting somewhat scary people. Why did you invite me to sit at your table. Why do you keep slipping me tequila and buying me knives like I'm in on the joke.

-- Tanguish is such a specimen we all just want to look at him under a microscope. He is so scared yet so brave. He thinks knives are scary but he leaps off buildings. He's scared of getting hurt and seeing blood but he has no regard for his personal safety. How do you fit so many oxymorons in such a tiny body---

-- Wels please, he's a little guy and it's his birthday! Stop bullying him!!

Addendum: I agree Jackrabbit is very Tanguish coded. It is now on the playlist.

Want to live like an animal?

By the skin of your teeth?

Put your good face on, you're foolin' no one

You're a jackrabbit underneath

One step forward, step right back

Run for the hills, honey, run for the hills, honey

Run for the hills, don't look back

#answering asks #gumy-shark #i lied i know why the biker/military uncles like me #they know i dress like a guy and help my mom do all the guy chores when my bro in law / step dad arent available #and they think i stepped up as the man-type figure around the house when my papa passed #they dont know im trans the poor things #rns asks

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