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mzminola · 2 years

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Had the thought “How would the Dynamic Duo of Batman!Dick and Robin!Stephanie have gone?” and immediately started tearing Preboot canon apart and rebuilding it like a LEGO set.

Firstly, we gotta make sure Damian isn’t getting sidelined, and for that I propose he and Tim are a team for BruceQuest. Have Damian’s yearning to get to know his dad outweigh his dislike/jealousy/etc of Tim, and highlight Tim’s canonical compassion and forgiving nature.

Either they both make new mantles for this, or they’re both color-coded Robins. Red Robin for Tim, since he’s using Kon’s colors, Green or Blue Robin for Damian (I like Green for he ties to his mom, but him trying to make his own version of the Nightwing suit in some attempt to outrank Tim and everyone calling him Blue Robin would be very funny).

Things start out tense, Damian is only listening to Tim because a) Tim will just have a Titan pick Damian up and drop him back off in Gotham if he’s too much trouble like he was during Resurrection of Ra’s al Ghul, and b) Tim is the only person who believes Bruce is alive and is cautiously keeping some of the methodology of proving it to himself at first.

In the original 2009 Red Robin comic, Tim repeatedly got sidetracked with hero work during his quest. Have that keep happening, and actually spend more time in that period than RR did, because it’s part of Damian’s growth. He starts out pissed at the delays and confused by Tim’s insistence on helping strangers. Tim gives some talks about the Bat philosophy and about why he keeps coming back to the hero life despite everything it’s taken from him.

Damian gets thanked by some of the people they rescue, and slowly shifts from pride in his fighting skills to pride in helping people. Eventually starts actively looking for people to help while they’re searching for artifacts. Tim is so flipping proud of him.

Sets us up for some big choices when the League of Assassins finally gets involved.

Okay, back to Stephanie, rewinding the comics even further:

1: Don’t kill off Arthur ‘Cluemaster’ Brown, we need him for later.

2: Tim & Steph never date because this is my LEGO set and I want more platonic boy-girl friend pairs in fiction, dang it. Bruce never tells Steph Tim’s identity and Tim is still keeping it secret. Rather than stalking Tim at school and seeing another girl kiss him, Stephanie and Tim are in the middle of an ongoing argument about secret identities when Jack discovers Tim is Robin and makes him step down.

Tim contacts Steph over the phone to let her know why Spoiler won’t be seeing him around, and that’s when she pulls what she did in canon of making her own Robin suit and volunteering with Batman.

Keep most of War Games, but nix the prolonged torture (because fuck that shit) in favor of quickly-gained but extensive injuries (she was tossed off a building? A building fell on her while she was saving someone?) so she really does need a long recovery period, complete with Dr. Thompkins taking her out of the country.

Honestly not sure if they should still fake her death. If yes, I think it should be Bruce’s idea.

This keeps Steph out of the way so we don’t need to rearrange the in-between canon too much, and potentially adds more fuel to the Keeping Secrets vs Not Keeping Secrets arguments.

The start of our big change for Stephanie’s arc is Violent Tendencies. Instead of agreeing to Bruce’s messed up plan, Stephanie is raring to atone for the lives destroyed back in War Games, and what do you know, some motherfucker just started another city wide gang war!

Spoiler works with Robin to stop Ulysses Armstrong. They never worked their shit out before she first left town, so it’s tense, and they fight, but they prioritize stopping the bad guys and bringing what peace is possible in Gotham.

Have repeated moments where Stephanie’s temper and instinct to argue almost messes things up, but she reins herself in to focus on butt-kicking and detective work. Have Tim notice this newer self-control, and have Steph notice changes in Tim, too.

At least one instance, preferably more, of Stephanie meeting someone who was hurt or lost a loved one in War Games, and wrestling with the fresh reminder of her guilt.

If we want to have a two-steps-forward, one-step-back situation, Tim gets caught in the blast of Armstrong’s bomb because after one of their fights, Stephanie stormed off in a temper, leaving Tim to deal with a two-person job on his own.

This sets up Stephanie second-guessing her decision to keep being a hero. If her own temper keeps getting in the way, should she really be doing this?

If we don’t want that, have it be that Tim takes the brunt of the blast because he threw Stephanie to safety or threw himself on top of her. Because that’s the kind of hero Tim is, because at this point in her arc Steph needs reassurance that her friend still cares about her despite her mistakes, and because it’s an example of heroism Stephanie needs to decide if she wants to copy or not.

Stephanie wants to be a hero.

Does she want to be the kind of hero who throws herself between another person and a bomb?

So either scenario, we set up for Stephanie to be doing some introspection when Bruce gets tossed into the timestream.

/points at the fried clone-corpse nearly everyone thinks is Bruce/ “Well he ain't gettin’ any deader!”

Tim calls up Cassandra during the whole Battle For The Cowl incident. She needs to wrap up an investigation, but comes back as soon as she can, which is when the dust has settled. Welcome back to Gotham, Batgirl!

(Cass is the Batgirl to both Tim & Steph’s Robin. She gets her own solo book back and has lots of interactions with Babs during this era.)

Not sure whose idea it is for Stephanie to be Robin again; Tim resigning himself to Dick not helping with BruceQuest? Dick acknowledging Batman needs a Robin and seeing Spoiler is struggling? Stephanie herself, volunteering for the second time?

Regardless, very early on, Arthur Brown gets out of jail or comes back to town and is being a Problem. Stephanie’s got a lot of anger, and Dick helps her deal with that. This is both an echo of Stephanie’s introduction, when she tried to kill her dad, and a way of bringing up Dick’s roots as Robin. He wanted to kill Tony Zucco, remember?

One former hot-headed Robin who’s learned how to find balance and prioritize justice over revenge helping the next generation do the same!

Meanwhile, Jason is also around being a Problem, providing straight up antagonism, but also a different opinion on how vigilantism in Gotham should work, so that Stephanie has multiple views to wrestle with.

Stephanie is a middle-class kid from the suburbs, who, as Jason put it to Tim when breaking into Titans Tower, “slept in a real bed”. But she’s also got a (recovering) drug-addict mother and a criminal father, providing points of commonality for Jason to work with. Remember his speech to Mia Dearden during the Green Arrow crossover?

Jason also plays on Stephanie’s guilt, talking about the fallout of the gang war she started, all of the ripple effects that kept going after the initial burst of violence was over. Describes some of his Under the Red Hood crime lord takeover work as “cleaning up your mess.”

Stephanie regrets everything about War Games, Dick is helping her do better going forward, whereas Jason’s argument is that she should have been more decisively violent at the start. It’s hard for all the mafia bosses to fight each other and get the little people caught up in it if the mafia bosses are dead.

During one altercation between Batman & Robin and the Red Hood, Jason punts Black Mask’s head to them and sarcastically says “You’re welcome.”

Arthur’s current criminal enterprise should directly affect Stephanie’s life in some negative way, so that all of this is fresh, not a It’s In The Past situation, and also be endangering civilians’ lives.

This arc has a big climatic scene of Dick being restrained while Jason gives Stephanie the chance to kill her dad.

(We know she’s not gonna, because she’s the Robin in Batman & Robin, but it should be as suspenseful as we can make it.)

Meanwhile over in BruceQuest, Tim & Damian are bonding over being raised with high expectations, and confusing relationships with one’s parents. Tim finally allowing himself to think & say negative things about Jack in order to help Damian grapple with his own upbringing? Heck yes.

Damian & Tim & the crushing weight of family legacies & parental expectations!

Tim being allowed by the narrative to be a big brother to Damian like Dick was to Tim!

Damian coming to see Tim as his brother despite his upbringing focusing on blood, and expressing remorse for the introductory murder attempt!

Ra’s trying to pit them against each other and getting his ass kicked!

Tim standing up to Bruce about his toxic habits once they rescue him because Tim refuses to let Damian go through the same crap he did!

Since dads are a big thing for both of the above arcs, we could go for three and bring back David Cain for Cass to deal with. Or keep him away, but bring him up in Cass & Steph’s shared scenes. They bonded over having terrible dads in Batgirl 2000, we can have callbacks.

Tim was sending progress reports back to Gotham during BruceQuest (because whether he left on good or bad terms, he wants the Bats to know what’s going on in case something happens to him and the ten year old he’s in charge of needs a rescue).

Once a week Cass makes popcorn and Babs reads the reports aloud. They make bingo cards for What Crazy Shit The Boys Got Up To This Week. When Tim gets home he makes bingo cards about Batgirl & Oracle’s shenanigans (while stealing some of theirs for his scrapbook). Stephanie demands Batman & Robin bingo cards too, and we discover Babs actually made some years ago when Dick was still Robin.

There are a lot of different ways who has what mantle could shake out once these arcs are over (in the very short time before the universe reset) but instead of getting into that I’m just going to imagine everyone reunited & hugging.

#fic ideas #or rather canon rewrite ideas #Stephanie Brown #Damian Wayne #Tim Drake #with appearances by Dick and Babs and Cass and Jason #yes the War Games arc is terrible but this is a rewrite of the AFTERMATH so it's staying #but slightly modified #Robin #Robin Stephanie #Batgirl Cassandra #Tim and Damian being brothers #Batman Dick #DC #Batfam

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birb-boyo · 10 months

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The Farm Girl and the Hero Want-to-be

The shade has taken me hostage but the horrors must still persist!

Honestly, does this surprise anyone that I’m writing for Time and Malon again? It shouldn’t. I love them. But you know who else I love? [probably the next duo I write about]

Anyway m, I hope you enjoy my ranting through the love of my life!

The roads have not been kind. Too many blues, too many greens, too many reds. Time was starting to get tired of fighting. Scratch that, he was already tired. He’s been tired of it since the age of 12.

Yet, he persisted. He persisted with his boys. He persisted for his boys. He persisted for her.

And when he saw her in his shadow’s clutches, hanging above a black portal by the neck, it was like his bad eye glowed with anger.

There was an unusual snarl on his face. He needed to do something. But what?

“Aw,” the Shadow said, “Did I hit a nerve, old friend?”

His glare was eternal as he watched her claw at his enemy’s hand. With every passing second, he felt his chest tighten.

He had the Biggoron sword’s tip against the stone floor covered in water. If he had known that this was going to be what this room held, they never would’ve went on a detour to that house he thought looked nice. He would’ve went home to check on her first.

The Sailor was so damn noisy sometimes. He just had to ask how he knew The Shadow. Time just had to take them to this forsaken temple.

And now the temple with filled with ten bodies and a shadow instead of one body and a shadow. This was no longer a duel.

“Old man,” The Shadow sang.

“What do you want?” His voice was much more shaky than he needed it to be.

“You’re right. We should keep this short and sweet. We wouldn’t want this beauty going to waste, would we?”

He felt his nails dig into his palm. With the added fact that he picked his nails regularly, he knew his knuckles were pale.

“What do you want?” He kept his voice level this time.

The Shadow hummed, then looked at the struggling woman. Twilight wondered how that thing could hold her even with her clawing at him with, no doubt, all of her strength.

“I want to trade. We’ll see how much love you feel for your lover then, huh?” Time answered with a low growl. “The mask for her life.”

Time’s glare turned into a look of surprise. The Shadow laughed. “Your face!”

Time shook off his surprise and reached a hand into his bag. Yet, he felt a hand on his wrist. He saw the royal blue scarf first.

“Think about this. There has to be another way.” His voice was commanding, calculated too. Time was either a commander and not nearly as calculated as the Captain was. He never will be. He never wanted to be.

He stared at Warriors for only a few seconds before he fished the mask out.

He made his walk alone. He felt like he would suffocate in the shallow water as his throat got tighter and tighter as the next foot stepped in front of the other. He knew that his body was shaking.

Shaking with fear: Who knew what his shadow would do with the mask of a god? Who knew what atrocities he would orchestrate with another god on his side? A war god at that?

But she needed him. That’s what mattered now. Even if the world were to burn tomorrow, she’d be safe in his arms today.

Shaking with anger: How dare he ruin something so quickly, so effortlessly?

He stuck his hand out, the pale wood of the mask scorched his touch. It’s red and blue paint the same as the right side of his face. The mask of the Fierce Deity.

The Shadow dropped her when he took the mask, just as he had promised, and Time dropped to hold her.

She coughed and something came out of her mouth. Whatever it was, it was black. “What-“

The Shadow laughed as he turned the mask in his hands. “Oh Hylia, you are done for!”

“What have you-!” Time felt Malon’s hand squeeze his pants fabric.

“Oh? Your little woman decided that stabbing me was a good idea. I only punished her accordingly.”

He had no time to shout before his boys did. They all yelled battle cries as they ran at his shadow. The Shadow spawned a portal under him that closed just as quickly as it opened.

His boys cursed. They cursed at everything down to the water that soaked their leather boots.

She continued to cough black blood and he held her through it. He whispered words that he knew wasn’t true.

She wasn’t fine. She wasn’t okay. Why did he say that?

“Link,” her wheezing cooled down and allowed her to speak, though only in a soft voice. Her voice caught Link’s attention immediately.

“Love?” He smiled at her through the tears that threatened to spill.

“It’s okay darling,” she said, “we’ll get through this, just as we always do.”

She gripped his hand in hers and kissed his cheek. “I know how much that mask meant to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough.”

Time squeezed her hand slightly with a slight smile. “Don’t be sorry. You got a good hit on him. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Can I-?” Time’s eye’s found the ones of the Traveler and caught on.

“I don’t know if you can,” he said. He looked down to his shivering lover. “but please try.”

Hyrule kneeled down and laid her down on her back. Time never let go of her hand.

It was like the world was laughing at him from above. Laughing at his worries, laughing at his insecurities, laughing at his entire life. Quick to criticize what it has never gone through. In that moment, he felt all eyes on him. He felt them scoff and laugh at his weakness. He felt them laugh at her weakness, at her fear.

Maybe the world would always laugh at them, the farm girl and the hero want-to-be.

#The Shady Lad Writes #lu shadow #lu hyrule #lu time #lu malon #lu malink #linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe time #linked universe hyrule #linked universe malon #linked universe shadow #angst #enjoy <3

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keksalot404 · 1 year

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OMORI Guardian Angel Dreams - The Dark of Many Names

An OMORI Crossover Fic

Chapter 5 - If You’re Looking For Fun...

---

"...and that was the last time I saw him before moving away."

It was weird for Sunny to be talking about Omori as if he was a separate being, especially when he now took the appearance of him ever since being in this strange, dark world.

"Wow Sunny, I..." Aubrey stopped her speech to fully settle her thoughts, "God, that's what you were doing for 4 years?"

"..." Sunny stayed silent. It was good, wasn't it? He finally talked to somebody about his Headspace. He never thought it be important to even mention it, up until his view of it changed so jarringly.

Was all his dreams... really dreams? This world, this Dark World, it felt so different, yet felt so subtly familiar. Was what he experienced those 4 years... was it not just a place for him to escape to? A little fake world to be the hero of... could it be...?

"...H-hey! Look at that! Random stage thing!" Aubrey broke the tension in the air. "Finally, am I right? It felt like we've been walking forever now."

Sunny looked to the path ahead. The glowing lights were finally distinguished as stage lights, placed orderly round a square platform. Pass that, a large, shining city of flashing colors and music awaits them.

The pair stepped up a tiny stairway and onto the wide stage, wooden creaks echoed with each step of the floor.

"Huh," Aubrey observed the area around her, "what's this doing here so far from the city?"

Sunny looked around the empty stage, nothing but the yellow lights were present in this place.

Aubrey shrugged, "Well I guess we can just pass through here then-"

"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE YOU MEATBAGS!"

A loud, boisterous voice shrieks across the stage, Sunny and Aubrey nearly stumbling back at the shock of a new entity.

"Wha-! Who are - gha!" Aubrey eyes were forced shut when the stage lights flared even brighter, circling around before pointing to 2 shadowed figures the opposite sides of her.

"Don't think you can just skip the next part of this act!" one of the figures said, his voice more nasally then his companion.

Aubrey and Sunny slowly focused their eyes at the opposing duo as the lights settled down around them. They identified their brown shoes, which covered short gray legs. Further up were pairs of round trousers, one red and the other blue. Upper more were inky black bodies that connected to white gloves. They seemed almost like exact clones of each other, the only difference them were their heads, almost resembling...

...a pair of ceramic cups?

"This might as well be the last act too!" the red cup announced. "Because now it's time for..."

"The Cuphead Show!"

The pair of childhood friends stare confounded at the brothers before them, the stage now filled with the color of yellow, and the lights shining upwards to the dark sky above.

"Um, actually it's the Cuphead AND Mugman show, hehe..." The blue trousered man timidly corrected.

"Sunny, aren't those guys cartoon characters?" Aubrey whispered near Sunny's ear. They did in fact watch something like "The Cuphead Show" airing on Frisk's TV one day. Sunny recalled the plot usually follows the 2 brothers, Mugman and the shows namesake, Cuphead, get into trouble and somehow getting by in the end, usually started by one or both of them being dumb. Aubrey only recalled the Devil guy being kind of funny.

"Well howzabout that! You guys actually know some old street smarts!" Cuphead called out. "Looks like kids these days still dig the classics!"

"Uh, Cuphead," Mugman leaned towards his brother, "They must've just seen our reboot show. We just finished the 2nd season a week ago!"

"What do you guys even want..." Aubrey was honestly getting tired of annoying duos at this point, and she's only been here for 10 minutes.

"Word has it you're the new hot shots 'round here," Cuphead leaned his head towards the two humans, "We was thinkin' we'd do a little crossover between us. A show packed with explosives, falling anvils, maybe even an encounter with the Ol' Devil!"

"Those all sound completely lethal," Sunny managed to speak out with slight fear in his tone, Aubrey inclined to agree.

"Whaddya mean? None of you's got toon insurance? Can't walk off a little bruisen'?" Cuphead tilts in confusion.

"Cuphead, I don't think they want to work with us..."

"Nonsense Mugsy!" Cuphead interrupted his brother, "Remember what Elder Kettle taught us? If you don't succeed the first time..."

Cuphead pointed his one of his finger at the sky, a flash of orange light enveloping it, before a blast of firey energy shot out of his pointer. Sunny and Aubrey step back in shock, then flinch as the bright projectile collides with the dark sky, giant stacks of casino tokens crashing down from up above, riddling the stage with red and blue.

"...you DOUBLE DOWN!"

"Pretty sure he never said that."

[ *A brawl is surely brewin'! Now go!]

---

After a year of being in basically hiatus, Dark of Many Names is up and running!

To be perfectly honest, this chapter WAS going to be the longest one yet (like 20+ pages worth) but I've figured that maybe setting high standards for a beginning fic writer is maybe a bad idea, so consider this chapter part one of two!

Also, yeah! Cuphead! The AU has been expanded, both in the Dark World and the Real World, and the cups are just the start! Don't get the wrong idea, they AREN'T going to be part of the CORE4 (OMORI, UTDT, Yume Nikki's main characters and associated ghost friends), none of them will be. They will act as guest stars in a way, maybe serving as background cameos, and perhaps star in a comic or two. As long as they’re considered Indie Games (don't want to get TOO crazy here), they get a shot at appearing! Either way I already have to balance out 8 Main Characters right now and I plan to keep it that way!

That's all from me. See you soon! (Hopefully <w<)

#omori #omori spoilers #Guardian Angel AU #ga dreams #OmoGa Dreams #(< new tag)#Sunny #Aubrey #Deltarune #(Do you tag deltarune when its just the Dark World?)#...#(Are the tag checkers gone?)#(good)#Cuphead #Mugman #Guest Star!#(< might use this tag when these kinds of things happen)#kekart

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katierosefun · 2 years

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june has come and gone (no idea how that happened), so once again: an unasked for list of things that i watched/read/listened to/whatever + my unasked for thoughts on them. fair warning, there’s quite a lot of stuff because the escapism was hitting hard this month:

kdrama:

my country: the new age

i’ve never actually seen dramas about the goryeo dynasty (i feel like i’ve seen many more dramas about the joseon dynasty), but upon learning some family history, i grew more interested in it. that led me to watching my country, which . . . oh boy. basically, this show is about two young men named seo hwi (yang se jong) and nam so heon (woo do hwan) who come from different families and different social statuses but still wind up being close friends. this mostly has to do with the fact that even despite their different social statuses, they’re both very much so outcasts in regular society (ie. seo hwi being the son of a famous swordsman whose reputation was tarnished after death, nam so heon being the illigitimate son of a high-up government official). as the goryeo period becomes bloodier and bloodier, these two find themselves constantly opposing one another over the course of the next ten years.

my country is def. one of those dramas that you really need to be sitting down and paying attention to fully appreciate the story. don’t watch this while going to the gym or doing chores or whatever--watch this show fully seated with no distractions, because i think that’s honestly the best way to watch this show. (and you really can’t get away with being distracted in this show, just because, like a lot of saeguks, there’s so much happening.) overall, i really liked this drama. i loved hwi and so heon’s relationship (and cried a lot of tears for them)--and like. i dunno what else to say except sun + moon/red + blue pairings really are the pillars of society, huh.

less than evil

i watched a nice edit on twitter of less than evil, and so i immediately started the show. while i’ve heard of less than evil before, i was always a bit hesitant to watch it because i heard so many mixed reviews, largely from luther fans--because less than evil is based off luther. so while i’ve never watched luther and therefore can’t really say anything about whether it’s a “good” or “bad” adaptation, i can say that i really loved less than evil.

basically, this show follows a notorious detective named woo tae seok (shin ha kyun). i say notorious because he’s known for being insanely ruthless when catching criminals, often choosing either legally questionable or outright illegal methods to catch people. we learn a bit more about why he’s become so ruthless and bitter once looking into his past, when he was just a patrol officer in a small town--where an awful death occurred, one that he still blames himself for. now 13 years later, tae seok’s still angry about never managing to catch the person who he knows was the killer--but his life starts to become more and more disentangled once he meets reporter eun seon jae (lee seol), who may or may not be connected to the death that’s been haunting tae seok for so long.

so like. god. this show was so good. it was def. much better than i’d anticipated, mostly because the acting was fantastic and the plot’s brutal (one reason why i don’t always like crime dramas is that there’s a lot of Macho Detective Man vibes + a Lot of Sad Female Victims . . . unfortunately, less than evil kinda follows along those vibes, although i will say it feels a little more different given seon jae’s character, and i do think tae seok’s a pretty fleshed-out character, as far as typical macho detective types go). but what really carried the show, i think, was tae seok and seon jae’s dynamic. it’s delicious, an absolute must for people who are fans of any kind of cat-and-mouse dynamic. insane. i never thought i’d like another cat-and-mouse-esque type duo since lee dong sik and han joo won in beyond evil, but i think woo tae seok and eun seon jae actually come up as a close second, and that’s saying a lot. so i would recommend this in a heartbeat!

mr. back

goddammit, the things i watch for shin ha kyun and jang na ra--the THINGS I WATCH FOR SHIN HA KYUN AND JANG NA RA--but weirdly, it only took me like . . . five episodes for me to actually .. . . . unironically . . . .like this kdrama? which i’m mostly going to chalk up to the fact that jang na ra is adorable + shin ha kyun is very attractive in this drama. the costume + makeup department really made up for the fact that they gave us 80 year old ha kyun and made sure that he would Always Look Absolutely Hot in Every Single Frame After.

basically. this show is about an 80-ish (maybe late 70s, i forget) old man named choi bo gong (shin ha kyun), who’s kinda like scrooge in that he’s wealthy (running a hotel business) + stingy. he has a crappy relationship with his entire family (which is somewhat understandable, considering they’re also all wealthy vultures) + his son, choi dae han (lee joon), who has an awful reputation (ie. fooling around with girls). meanwhile, eun ha soo (jang na ra) is a new intern at the hotel, who mostly just wants to like. make a living. when suddenly, she crosses paths with choi bo gong + winds up getting in a freak accident with him--and while ha soo gets out fine, the accident makes bo gong de-age so that when he wakes up, he’s suddenly a man in his mid-thirties (except he’s still mentally 80). now in this new state, choi bo gong tries to figure out who might have set up the accident . . . and in the process, inevitably falls in love with ha soo + also starts to mend his rather broken relationship with his son.

tbh. if you’re still with me despite that rather bonkers summary . . . this show surprised me in that yup, there are literally so many questionable moments, but weirdly enough . . . i don’t know if it’s shin ha kyun’s insane acting or lee joon’s usually rather unimpressed face suddenly turning warm and excited or jang na ra’s bright personality, but i found myself actually caring about the characters and somehow finished this show in like. 3 days. which. uh. maybe part of it really is to do with shin ha kyun having actually genuinely good chemistry with everyone in the cast (and also . . . fine, i’m not above admitting i made eyes at shirtless shin ha kyun), but like . . . hey. if you’re willing to sit through (or just skip through) some awkward moments, you’ll find that the characters are at least interesting. (even if . . . everything’s a bit questionable. listen. just focus on the actors’ faces, okay. just focus on them.)

brain

you know, i’m not the biggest fan of medical dramas at all (the only even remotely medical drama i watched was perhaps descendants of the sun, and oops, i actually wasn’t a fan of it)--but in case it wasn’t obvious, i was (am) on a huge shin ha kyun kick. this drama is about a very determined, very intelligent, very asshole-y surgeon named lee kang hoon (shin ha kyun). he’s on his way to becoming the top neurosurgeon. along the way, he bashes heads with people up on the med world’s social ladder, as well as doctors in training (i have no idea what to call them . . . are they doctors in residence? idk?) like yoon ji hye (choi jung won).

like . . . i think i started off liking this drama, and there were def. some strong character moments (shin ha kyun won a daesang award for this show, i believe, and it’s very obviously well-deserved, bc he plays an EXCELLENT asshole who actually is equal parts obnoxious and annoying and punchable as well as oddly pitiful and like . . . you might want to sock him in the face, but you also want him to win, just because you very slowly see the kinds of obstacles he’s up against). that said though . . . . did i really enjoy it? eh, not really. i kinda skipped around some scenes tbh (mostly the surgeries, i am so sorry shin ha kyun u are a very sexc surgeon but i cannot deal with people poking inside someone’s brain i really really can’t). there were some tropes that i wasn’t the biggest fan of. this drama is honestly pretty romance-light, although when there’s romantic scenes, they really do hit, even if i still think that yoon ji hye deserves someone better than kang hoon (but also, weirdly, i want kang hoon to be happy? and ji hye to be happy, and she apparently likes kang hoon so??? it’s so complicated guys)

but idk, if you dig medical dramas, then maybe this is worth the watch? just because i do think it’s interesting that this show covers a lot of different themes and hey, for a drama from 2011, i think it presents certain themes with a touch more nuance than i expected. and also. shin ha kyun wears multiple suits in this show and he looks very hot. that’s all.

tomorrow

so @hanjuwonsupporter actually recommended this show to me, and i am very glad she did, because i feel like these are one of the shows that really proves just how . . . insanely healing the fantasy/supernatural genre can be. like, i always knew that the power of the fantasy/supernatural genre, particularly in kdrama, can be incredibly powerful and healing, but tomorrow really just reminded me even more so of just how insane and lovely it is to use ideas of the afterlife and etc. to create a story that can so personally touch the lives of so many people.

in short, this series is about a group of grim reapers whose jobs are to keep people from committing suicide. so yes, right off that one-sentence logline, you already know that this show is going to touch on a lot of sensitive topics, so do be aware of that if you feel you’re not in a good place to consume content related to this ordeal.

but that said: it is also perhaps the most healing series i’ve ever watched in a while. you’ll fall in love with all the characters--the dumb of heart, brave of ass choi joon woong (ro woon), who becomes a grim reaper after falling into a coma, the badass grim reaper who came from hell koo ryeon (kim hee sun), the seemingly detached lim ryung gu (yoon ji on) are personally my favorite trio in kdrama history now, just because they are the perfect mix of SUNSHINE and SUNSHINE PROTECTORS squad. they are truly the perfect team, and by the end of this series, i guarantee that your heart will be at least five times bigger.

move to heaven

i started this show a long time ago, but i finally got around to finishing it this month, and i’m really glad i did, because this is one of those incredibly special shows that, like tomorrow, covers a lot of different topics related to death, only it’s right in the coming-of-age/slice-of-life genre. essentially, this drama is about a neurodivergent young man named han geu ru (tang jun sang), who, with his father, runs a trauma cleaning business. for those who aren’t familiar with the term, trauma cleaners are people who come to clean out someone’s home after they’ve passed.

things start to change when han geu ru’s father suddenly passes away, leaving geu ru’s estranged uncle cho sang gu (lee je hoon) as his new guardian and co-runner of the business. along the way, geu ru’s friend na mu (hong seung hee) comes in to help, and we watch these three come to some sort of rhythm in this trauma cleaning business.

this show is just . . . it’s really lovely, and i’m very glad that i got around to watching it. move to heaven truly covers a series of different themes and handles them each with care, and at the end of the day, this show is about the difficult ties that one has with the ones who might no longer be here anymore.

navillera

i started this show way back in late april/may, but i didn’t get around to finishing it until this month. this series is about a young ballerino named chae rok (song kang) who, while struggling in a slump, finds himself teaching ballet to the 70 year old sim deok chul.

this drama is just so . . . there are some stories that you just know are going to move you the older and older you get, and i think that’s exactly what navillera meant to do. because to be honest, i think a lot of us have some sort of dream or something that we want to pursue or always meant to pursue but either felt that we had no time or competence and etc. and then there are a lot of us who simply don’t know what our “dream” is yet--some of us just feel like we’re going through the motions. and then there are a lot of us who might be currently pursuing our dreams, but it’s actually a lot harder than we anticipated, and maybe we feel like we’re on the verge of giving up before something really beautiful happens.

that’s basically all that navillera is about. a lot of stuff related to dreams and what it means to pursue them, what it means to want them, what it means to have a dream to begin with--how no dream is quite too big or quite too small, and that they’re all incredibly worthy of wanting and following and how you are never out of time. never. which, i think is something that i know i personally needed to hear--so i’m sure there are plenty of people out there who just as badly need that message. so really, this show was fantastic, and i have a funny feeling that i’ll appreciate it more and more the older i get. an absolute fave and a must-watch for everyone!

tv:

obi-wan kenobi

i mean, is anyone actually surprised? the kenobi series has been my most-anticipated star wars creation for years, so of course i was going to keep up with it. like, seriously. i haven’t been this in love with star wars since the clone wars season 7, and that’s saying a lot. i feel like i can’t really elaborate much more on this show just because everyone’s probably already witnessed me lose my mind, but i do genuinely think that this show is one of the best things that have come out of star wars because it somehow balanced out character + plot in such a beautiful way.

were there things that could have been better? probably, yeah. but we got to see obi-wan genuinely struggling with his trauma, and we also see him slowly heal by the end of it, and that’s what i signed up for, and so rarely do i get to see what i genuinely want from star wars.

movies:

the inside outtakes

so earlier this year, i watched bo burnham’s the inside special and absolutely loved it, even if it was a trip and a half. and also rather sad. and also maybe persuaded me into thinking that maybe i should just cut off my hair. (tbh, there was a lot leading up to it, but the final tipping point was listening to all eyes on me for the first time and watching bo burnham lose his mind and reacting normally to it. ie, going “lol me too” and then deciding now would be a great time to saw off half my hair. it’s grown back now though! no harm no foul)

so anyways, imagine my pleasant surprise at learning that bo burnham uploaded the inside outtakes on youtube! and like, i dunno--i think i actually liked this film better (is it even a film? unsure). there’s some new songs here (although i use the term “new” loosely--like the title says, these were all songs that were outtakes/didn’t make the cut of the original special). they feel like a fever dream. there are bits and pieces that just make this collection of film absolute gold, and mayhaps i’m just a bit obsessed with it. (and as always, there were a lot of pieces, esp. towards the end, that made me feel like. oh. yeah. i get it.)

a frozen flower

y’know, i think that if this were a different year and we were much more starved of queer + steamy content, maybe this movie would have been considered actually rather compelling, but tbh, i felt mostly . . . “eh”d out by it. maybe it’s the fact that the dynamics of the male/male romance were . . . insanely . . . uncomfy, but i think i can say the same of the male/female romance because it’s pitched as some True Love thing but in actuality, i think it’s just that both parties involved in that particular mess were just horny as fuck. but that’s just me.

basically. this movie takes place during the goryeo dynasty. the king (ju jin mo) is gay and so doesn’t want to sleep with his wife the queen (song ji hyo), except they need to produce an heir ASAP because court politics reasons. now, the king sends off his lover/guard hong rim (zo in sung) to sleep with the queen so that she can get pregnant. only, oopsie, now hong rim and the queen are in love, and now the king’s jealous, and now this whole thing is a mess of a mess of a mess.

so um .. . was it any good? tbh, not really. maybe it was the overwhelming amount of sex scenes (i mean, i knew that frozen flower was meant to be pretty steamy, but if we wanna compare movies: empire of lust (2015) was considered steamy, and it had i think 3 sex scenes total. frozen flower had at least 6, although there honestly felt like more because we sure did see a lot of stuff happening in each scene)--or maybe it was the fact that i just could never buy the romance happening whatsoever (do y’all even like each other? or are you guys just horny? which, like, understandable, but pls give me a reason outside of the sex to understand y’all genuinely love each other)--but like . . . . the costumes were neat. the music was neat. i did feel at least a touch sad for the characters by the end, but not by a whole lot. baby yeo jin goo was cute in this movie though, he really stole his 3 minutes worth of screen time.

books:

emergency contact by mary hk choi

so during april, i read yolk by mary hk choi and promptly fell in love with her writing. her writing’s just so addictive somehow, in that her characters’ voices are so witty and yet don’t manage to sound too similar to one another. her characters are also so deeply flawed in ways that are actually believable. and so of course, emergency contact was no exception. i started off the book pretty slow because i was busy with finals, and then when i actually sat down with it again, i’d somehow flown through 110 pages in an hour. so.

this book is about penny lee, a korean-american girl heading off to college to pursue writing. along the way, she meets a young man named sam, who once dreamed of becoming a documentarian but due to financial troubles, dropped out and is now working at a cafe. they connect, and the story takes off from there. it’s a beautiful story, and tbh, i thought it was going to be cliched at first, but this book turned out to just be so rich and complex. the characters are so multifaceted, and they show so many of their flaws with each other, and that’s part of the appeal.

one last stop by casey mcquinston

i started this book a long time ago, but i only got around to finishing it this month, and i’m really glad i did! this book is a cute sci-fi-esque/coming-of-age romance following august landry, a young woman who’s moved out to the big apple to finish up her college education. things get a little bit more interesting when she meets jane, a mysterious punk gal who seems to almost always be on the q train as the same time as her. pretty quickly, august discovers that jane is actually stuck on the train . . . and has been somehow frozen there since the 1970s, only she’s still miraculously in her 20s and has no memory of who she actually is. so of course, august puts it upon herself to help jane get her unstuck from the q, while also maybe falling in love just a little bit (or maybe a lot) with this person out of time.

i personally thought this was a really cute book. it does have its slower parts, but the writing is so . . . i don’t know. cozy? it feels cozy. the atmosphere is totally vibrant, and everything feels warm somehow, although maybe that’s just the really lovely setting of a diner in the background as well (seriously, i’ve always loved pancakes, but now i crave them extra after this book). i thought it was cute, and i mean, haven’t we hopeless romantics at least somewhat wondered of having some magical connection on public transportation?

rewatch list:

beyond evil

beginners

empire of lust

reread list:

six of crows by leigh bardugo

#caroline recs #i feel like i actually didn't . . . see as much stuff this month #not sure why #i think it's because of the new kdramas #they really sucked up my time but i'm not complaining #and to be fair i watched quite a lot of kdramas

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autism-aint-a-flawtism · 1 year

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Hear me out, a 10-issue miniseries about Superman throughout the decades. Credit to u/AccurateAce for the idea that I'm running with

So, I saw this post on r/Superman about a hypothetical Superman mini-series that's basically Superman: Secret Identity meets Spider-Man: Life Story. I thought the idea seemed kind of hard to sell. So, I proposed transforming the story into something like Superman Red/Blue where the connecting factor is time period. Each decade would have a different writer and artist, and each would be tasked to encapsulate the best of Superman during that decade and what he meant during that decade. I've mapped out how I want this to play out in terms of issues, going from the 30's all the way to the 2020's. I don't have ideas for all of them, just general estimations. Lemme know what you think!

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1930's

-Author:Gene Luen Yang

-Artist: Steve Rude

-Overall vibe: Superman doing stuff like stopping corrupt bankers and classic Golden Age stuff, Superman Smashes the Klan is an excellent example of the Golden Age in my eyes and Steve Rude can do some damn good artwork of the Shuster style

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1940's

-Author: Tom King

Artist: Stuart Immonen or John Romita Jr.

-Overall vibe: Fun Fact, superheroes used to be used as propaganda for WWII! So, for this era, I figured we can get more of Tom King's wonderful understanding of Superman to plop him right in the middle of Nagasaki being nuked and saving as many people as possible (if that's too dark then just a hostage situation). This is the only one I really have a story planned out for. Basically, Clark's saving as many people as he can from the Nagasaki nuking as it's dropping. Clark's emotional arc would basically be him wondering if what he's doing is worth it. Just as the bomb drops he saves the last person he can by basically human shielding them. Clark's beaten and broken and looks a little bit like how he did in TDKR when he was hit by that nuke. And he looks and sees that the child he saves is okay. Then, Clark realizes why he does this, yada yada yada, the end. Something like this seems right up Tom King's alley, even if he doesn't wanna do this, I trust him with Superman. For the illustrator, I'm thinking Stuart Immonen because I really like how warm and soft his bodies look and I want this Superman to look kind. But, at the same time, I want him to look like he barely survived the nuke, so John "I never go on model and everybody looks beat up" Romita Jr. would be perfect for that. Your choice.

***************************************************************************************

1960's

-Author: Tom Taylor

-Artist: Jose Luis Garcia-Lopez

-Overall vibe: classic Silver Age fun with a good dose of Tom Taylor's "how the hell am I loving this?" style. Just a whole lot of genuine heart. That, and Lopez' style fits pretty close to the Silver Age stuff I'm looking for. Gun to my head, I'd pitch something like some massive robot attacks, Clark beats the robot and goes home to Lois or something. Just something incredibly sincere.

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1990's

-Author: Mark Waid

-Artist: Alex Ross

-Overall vibe: Do I even have to explain this one? They're a power duo. Mark Waid doesn't even have to make commentary on superheroes in the 90's in this issue for it to work. I trust these two completely

***************************************************************************************

2000's

-Author: Joe Kelly

-Artist: John Byrne

-Overall vibe: I honestly don't know. I want Joe Kelly to not completely remake but teach a related (if not the same) lesson as What's so Funny about Truth, Justice, and the American Way. Just don't mention any of the Crises, that, or pink Kryptonite (did you know pink Kryptonite happened in 2003? Crazy, right?). I trust Joe Kelly. Do your thing, chicken wing.

***************************************************************************************

2010's

-Author: Grant Morrison

-Artist: Jim Lee

-Overall vibe: Yada yada yada New 52 transitioning to Rebirth or something like that. Maybe have it be in that period where Convergence Superman was just fat chillin in Kansas with Lois. I don't know. I just know I had to put Grant Morrison somewhere on here and Jim Lee was a major player in the New 52. As I've said a couple of times, I trust them

***************************************************************************************

2020's

-Author: Jon Tomasi

-Artist: Gary Frank

-Overall vibe: just let them be themselves. Let them encapsulate Clark and Jon's relationship, let them properly show how Superman is today. Just let them be awesome

#superman son of kal el #superman #kal el #clark kent #lois lane #lex luthor #jimmy olsen #dc comics #dc #dceu

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welcometomybraincomics · 8 months

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First Encounter

The Stations’ first interaction with other Cybertronians was entirely unplanned. The trade ship Daunting Light had one of the more adventurous crews among the Station population, more willing than most to follow through unconfirmed suggestions and act upon gut instinct. They had been skirting the edges of the common Station trade routes looking for very specific parts needed to repair several deteriorating mecha back at the stations. The parts themselves were hard enough to make, but the fact that the metal required was rare to boot was like a kick to the stomach. They were getting prepared to buy a bunch of items with small quantities of the necessary materials in them to get the metals in time, even though they weren’t sure it would be enough to even help two mecha, when a very reliable merchant said that they knew some traders stationed just outside of the Starioners’ galaxy who sold what the Daunting Light was looking for. Curious and in need, the Daunting Light followed the merchant’s directions to an intergalactic trade post situated just at the edge of 3 separate galaxies. The Stationers were introduced to more species there than they had seen in a good few centuries. The trader they were looking for was a Decepticon.

First impressions were a bit spotty. The first Starioner to find the mech had an Autobot emblem clearly shining on his chest while a 5th flier with his numbers proudly painted in bold white on his breast trailed behind wearing a damaged Decepticon emblem that caught light that it past as his shoulders swung with his gait. To the Decepticon’s optics, that didn’t paint a pretty picture. An Autobot trailed by a Decepticon with serial numbers on him? It looked, to anyone who knew about the Autobot-Decepticon conflict, like a poorly veiled picture of slavery. Not at all veiled, actually.

Understandably, when the ‘Autobot’ waltzed up cheerfully to the Decepticon’s booth asking for parts and metal, the ‘Con’s mood chilled to sub-zero and they hiked the price up two times higher than it was in the heart of the Stationers’ system. The ‘Autobot’ visibly paled and the ‘Decepticon,’ who had been smiling a moment before, drew a servo down his face plates, threw his arms up and started walking away swearing loudly. The ‘Autobot’ ran after him as he walked away, frantically trying to get him to calm down and not cause a scene. The Decepticon at the booth thought he heard the ‘Autobot’ say something about telling a captain and seeing what he could do before the duo were swallowed up by the crowded market. The reaction had the Decepticon wondering if he might have gotten their situation wrong, but he shrugged it off with the approach of a new customer.

Half a cycle later a green and black tankformer with some good weight on him came storming through the plaza and stopped right in front of the Decepticon’s booth and started glaring daggers. The duo from before came running after him along with an ‘Autobot’ with serial numbers, a blue opticed warframe femme, and a red opticed grounder half the size of everyone else who looked like he couldn’t choose between a miniature tank or a race car, the latter two lacking any faction symbol at all.

“Wait, boss!” The unnumbered ‘Autobot’ shouted in dismay as he came within hearing range. “We can’t just smash the booth and run with the goods! We’ll never build rapport that way!”

“I dunno,” the half pint grounder said, eyeing the goods with crossed arms. “I think the boss has the right idea, none of this slag is worth half the price he’s charging.”

The femme’s wings, decorated in thin white patterns that danced beautifully across her plating, spreading from the tips down the edges of red-green wings, dipped low in disgust. “Honestly, he wouldn’t even be loosing any profit.”

“Why am I the only voice of reason here!?” Screeched the ‘Autobot’ with no numbers.

The ‘Autobot’ that did have numbers raised his hand half heartedly. “If it makes you feel any better, I agree with you, but you’ve gotta get rid of faulty wiring (you’ve gotta get rid of the bad apples).” he ended the statement with a shrug.

The ‘Autobot’ put his face in his hands and screamed. His ‘Decepticon’ companion from earlier patted his shoulder placatingly.

Had the Decepticon been paying attention to the interaction, he would have made a complete reassessment of his initial impression of the first two bots and wondered who the frag these new ones were, but he wasn’t. He was staring at the angry tankformer in front of him, trying to determine where he had seen him. He answer hit him like a bullet train.

Right there, in front of him, was the infamous Decepticon general, Ripjaw. The mech had gone M.I.A. somewhere around the height of the war along with the rest of his fleet when the fighting had been the most chaotic and they couldn’t spare enough resources searching for them. Ripjaw had always been known for his bad temper and his tendency to... mutilate anyone who didn’t comply.

Not wanting his head ripped off, and refraining from asking where the general had been all this time out of self preservation, the Decepticon nervously offered his goods at their actual price and lowered it even further when ‘Ripjaw’s’ glare intensified. Instead of being satisfied, ‘Ripjaw’ reaches over the booth and grabbed the vendor by the neck and shook him vigorously.

No one in the market took action. They glanced over, noticed the commotion was from warframes, and left it at that. They had learned long ago to leave Decepticon matters in Decepticon hands. It, surprisingly, ended up a lot cleaner than when anyone else tried to get involved.

“Were you trying to sell rip offs?” ‘Ripjaw’ growled. Honor and value were things he held in high regard. If someone tried to sell something for beyond it’s value, even if they weren’t selling it to him, he couldn’t stand for it.

The Decepticon in his fist sputtered for an excuse. His first thought flashed to the ‘Autobot’ that had first approached him. “Well, he was an Autobot so I thought-“

‘Ripjaw’s’ grip tightened. “I don’t care what you thought. You thought you could gain anything from raising the prices that high? You thought you could keep someone from buying something because you’re averse to their motives? You thought no body would get wise to your dirty tricks? Well I-“

The numbered ‘Decepticon’ touched ‘Ripjaw’s’ elbow. “Malachite, we don’t have time for this.” He turned to the vendor. “Will you sell us this?” He guestured to the items in question.

The Decepticon nodded his head as vigorously as he could in Malachite’s grip and managed to squeak out a breathless “Yes!” Malachite unceremoniously dropped him on the ground.

Seeing that Malachite was in no mood to talk business, the numbered ‘Decepticon’ took it upon himself to organize the transaction. “Tourmaline,” he turned to the warframe femme whose plating, the vendor belatedly noticed, matched the color of tourmaline. “Load this up and bring it to the ship.” He nodded to the materials the Decepticon vendor was quickly trying to pack up. “Hatchet, help her.” The two badgless mecha nodded and started picking up the crates the vendor had already packed and loading them into the femme. “Counterbalance,“ The numberless Autobot straightened up at his name. “Go with Groundpounder and see if you can find anything else we need before we go” the ‘Autobots’ of the group nodded dutifully before turning away and walking down the street. As they left, the vendor heard the Groundpounder say something to the Counterbalance that made the ‘bot groan in tired exasperation which caused the his companion to cackle. The numbered ‘Decepticon’ stayed and took care of the payments, all very reasonably priced now, while his boss stood to the side, continuing to melt the vendor with his gaze.

They left quickly after, surprisingly organized and apparently on a time crunch. The vendor, luckily for his spark, didn’t see them again before he left the market. When he returned, however, they were there. He decided to begrudgingly work with the ‘Autobots’ of the crew to avoid the ire of the mech he still understood to be Ripjaw. The mech had abandon that name almost half a millennia ago when he forgot most of his life in favor of the moniker ‘Malachite,’ after his plate color, but the vendor didn’t know that.

Over time, the Decepticon grew more familiar with this strange group of bots and as time wore on, more and more of them came. He slowly came to the conclusion that the ‘Autobots’ he was seeing, often accompanied by ‘Decepticons’ or similarly weaponized ‘Autobot’ companions were not captive slaves of some lost Decepticon settlement and, in fact, weren’t Autobots at all. They called themselves “Stationers” and claimed their home was in the complete opposite direction from the Autobot Commonwealth. They lived together with the ‘Decepticons,’ which the vendor also came to realize weren’t Decepticons at all, or at least, not any more, and had absolutely no knowledge about the Autobot-Decepticon war that they had left behind. Even Ripjaw/Malachite, who the Decepticon vendor knew was deeply involved in the war, seemed completely puzzled by it. The Stationers, apparently, couldn’t even fathom warring against their own kind. Their populations were apparently too small for it to be anything but genocide and anyone who disagreed with the populous was exiled. They would make a truce with the exiled, however, so that neither one could attack the other in order to preserve their people.

If the vendor were a historian or even a sociologist, he would have found the situation with the Stationers fascinating, but he was neither of those things, so the only thing it left him was incredibly confused. How did the Autobot and Decepticon populations mix in the first place? How do they not remember anything? How did they even settle down in the middle of a war!? Question upon question that didn’t really feel appropriate to ask and would only be more confusing to bring up.

Unfortunately, the Stationers didn’t learn half as much from the merchant. The Stationers came to the understanding that Autobots and Decepticons are two different categories of mecha. The separation seemed quite arbitrary to them since many of the bots the merchant called ‘Autobot’ had upgraded their armor and weapons to warframe levels to survive in their system in addition to adding flying mods and some of the ‘Decepticons’ were what the Stationers would call civilian. It also became evident that should they meet other mecha or anyone inside the vendor’s galaxy, some of them would be mistaken for Autobots and Decepticons and others would not, which was infinitely more confusing. One thing that was clear, however, was the fact that Decepticons had a strong distaste for Autobots. They didn’t know why, whenever they asked, the vendor snarled and spat insults, calling the Autobots weak, pathetic stains on the universe and the like, but that didn’t really explain why they were hated in the first place.

This lead to continued confusion and miscommunication when it came to the Stations’ second accidental Cybertronian encounter. This time, with Autobots.

A small crew of younglings, a mixed crew of flight and ground frames which was standard for the Station population who saw nothing morally vile about either, had been sailing around from trade route to trade route. They had set out on a voyage to try stretching their wings in the vastness of the void. A little independent action. Unfortunately, no one in the small crew of five had any experience with comet storms. As a result, their small craft got wrecked and they ended up crash landing on a small colony planet on the outskirts of the Autobot Commonwealth and had to call a nearby Station ship to pick them up.

Fortunately, that ship consisted almost entirely of bots with Autobot emblems. Unfortunately, the crew arrived in a distinctly Decepticon ship. And the cherry on top, the colonists has reported the crashed younglings for suspicious (Decepticon) activity and the Elite Guard had come to... dispose of the threat. Threatened younglings plus protective Stationers did not make for a good first impression.

The only think that kept the younglings’ crash site from becoming a battlefield was the Elite Guard’s hesitance when they realized that the ‘Autobots’ that had arrived in the Decepticon style ship were missing war heroes. They had been told the mecha had died protecting the Commonwealth after they disappeared during a battle with a Decepticon fleet. The hesitance was enough for the arrived ‘Autobots’ to direct the younglings back to their ship and shoot a snarled threat to the Elite Guard that if they dared threaten their younglings again, they deactivate them painfully. “Consider this a warning.” With that, they boarded their ship and left, leaving a baffled and confused military.

Unfortunately, the Stations had a reputation for leaving bad first impressions, so they were not surprised. There was a reason diplomatic teams tried to make the first encounter, but merchant groups hardly took diplomats along with them. Mecha tried to minimize the damage done by first encounters and to spare their friends in diplomacy, and especially Kaon, the headache and paper work that came with crashing parties, but for the most part it was inevitable.

Oh well, they were used to amending botched political situations anyway.

Just another day for the diplomats and legal teams of the Stations. Whoopie...

—-

For a little more context look at Robits, The Epic Train Wreck Dumpsterfire of a Transformers sidestory AU

#oc #robits #transformers #transformers oc

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totebagchiqbarista · 3 years

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can we have a chat noir x reader x ladybug where chat and lady are constantly trying to out due in battles each other for the reader’s attention, even in school with adrian and marionette

a loving feeling

Pairing: Adrien/Chat Noir, Marinette/Ladybug x GenderNeutral!Reader

Here's the first request I got! I literally love this idea so much oh my god. I hope you like it :)

“Adrien, dude, go talk to them. Now’s your chance!“ said Nino, reassuringly patting his best friend on the back. Adrien’s palms sweat just because of the thought of talking to them. It had been so long since he felt anything other than platonic love for somebody and was losing his mind. Adrien knew he wasn’t the only one who saw Y/N as potentially someone who was to be more than a friend. How could he be?

“Go! Now!“ Nino pushed him closer to the infatuating dream of his best friend. Disappearing in a split second he rebounded with his girlfriend.

Adrien made a few steps. It has seemed the person of his dreams was way too far away from him. Fear grew with each step and his heart was now beating in his throat, unable to catch a breath. Yes! They are so close! He can see them, just a bit more. He is already there, just hanging by the tip of a finger... And suddenly he was in a broom closet.

“Oh, Plagg I chickened out again“ Adrien cried, clenching his fists against the wall. The kwami flew around his head in an attempt to catch his gaze.

“Honestly Adrien, you could only talk to them when you were Cat Noir. But when you’re...well you, you lose your mind!“ he spoke “You see, cheese doesn’t do that to a person“

“You’re a kwami“

“My point still stands.“

Adrien banged his hair against the wall. It’s true, he could always talk to them when he was dressed in black. “I'm going to talk to them, today!”

“You go to the same class, you talk to them every day “ Plagg rolled his eyes, getting tired of the same old story his owner has been playing over and over

The blonde boy shook his head trying to talk to Plagg on a serious note “You know what I mean”

Upon entering the class, Marinette stumbled over her thoughts. She had decided she will talk to them today. She had no idea how, but she had put her mind to it. She is doing this.

"Hi, Marinette," said Y/N when they saw the bluenette deep in her thought.

Marinette's eyes widened in surprise, her breath hitching in her throat. She had to process what is happening before she could open her mouth.

"O-oh, hi, Y/N. Are you how? I mean, how you are?" she felt embarrassed by the inability to speak as she tried to collect herself "How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks. Do you want to sit next to me today? Nino and Alya sat together." they questioned, pointing to the couple in love, sat in the second row.

Marinette's face lit up in joy as she shook her head in approval "Yeah, I will". The two sat down in the first row, waiting for the class to start.

"So, Y/N, tell me, um do you- want to-" Blue-haired girl started as the duo collected their bags and headed towards the door. Y/N watched the girl carefully until she was interrupted by a loud cheer behind them.

They turned around, meeting eyes with a pair of green ones that lit under the blonde hair. "Hi, Adrien!" they waved in response.

Marinette's face reddened. It wasn't just because of the Adrien himself who too, made her blush a little. But it was because he could not have found the worse time to come by...

Her fingers twitched as she watched him smile sweetly and sly to the person she was just about to ask out. He had a kind, heart-warming smile on his face, and he was talking so softly to them. His fingers twirled in his blonde hair as he...

Marinette's face widened at the realization. The guy was stealing her date!

"Actually, we were talking you can come back by later" she interrupted blushing Adrien, taking Y/N's hand in hers and walking off. Without thinking, Adrien reached out, grabbing Y/N's hand. His fingers wrapped around their wrist. "Why can't I join you?" he blurted.

"Of course you can!" Y/N exclaimed

"No, you can't. Don't you have a fencing class to attend to?" Marinette fought back, crossing her hands on her chest.

"It got postponed"

"It never does"

"But today it has so I have an hour of free time"

Y/N watched as the two held a strong eye contact filled with rage and jealousy. Their bodies came closer and closer as they fought back and forth for their attention.

Suddenly, the door of the school burst open, shrieks fulfilling the building. A woman dressed in black entered, her ripped dress falling to the floor. Silver hair of hers flowed in the wind as she wrapped her fingers tighter around the machine in her hand. Two rat ears grew on the tip of her head and a tail that followed the theme.

She walked around, shooting every random passenger and turning them into...rats?

"We have to hide!" Y/N exclaimed as they took both of their hands, leading them into a classroom.

Marinette stuttered, ripping their hands apart even though that was the last thing she wanted to do. "I forgot my bag in the other classroom, I have to get that, it's important, you guys go hide now!"

Y/N nodded, running again, leaving Adrien to follow along. "Locker rooms! We can hide there" he said, grabbing them by the hand and running to the secure place in school.

"Chloe! Where are you Chloe!" the rat lady yelled, leading her way through the corridors of the Françoise Dupont High School. "Hide here," he said, showing them a safe place in one of the lockers.

"You too." They said pointing to the one across. Adrien only nodded in response and faking it once they were completely safe. The blonde's legs carried him to the bathroom by the speed of light.

Closing the door he took a moment to take a deep breath and rest his back against the wall. His kwami reappeared in front of his face, waiting for a word. Something. Anything.

"Don't you have a significant other to save, Adrien?"

Adrien got himself on his feet, away from the daydreams. Plagg was right, he did everything better when he was Chat Noir, so saving them should be as easy too. Maybe then he can finally talk to them without interruptions or his own fears.

The blonde nodded. "Plagg claws out!"

Although they knew they could be in danger, Y/N couldn't take being locked up in a locker anymore. She stepped out, only to be met by Adrian's open locker. The rat lady must have got to him.

"Stupid" they hummed to themselves as they looked around, figuring out what to do.

Suddenly, the door to the locker room opened and the infamous black cat costume appeared before them, taking their breath as always. "Well hello I guess we're stuck in danger together," he said flirty "Might as well make the most out of it" he bowed down before them.

"Poor kitty, and where's your lady?" They said, teasingly to the cat boy who so desperately tried to get under their skin.

"Said she will be right back."

And just on queue, the lady in red stormed into the room. Taking a look at Chat Noir once she sighed. "I'm sorry to do this, but it's important. Multimouse, I need you." She handed the already well-known miraculous box to them as they nodded in response.

It was safe to say Chat Noir was losing his mind. His eyes widened at the sudden information, as he stared at them in amazement. "You're Multimouse?!" he squeaked. Thinking back on the previous times Multimouse came to help and he did nothing but flirt with them. There was something that stood out about them and he never knew what. Now, it all made sense.

Then yet again, he wonders how whenever Multimous was around, Ladybug also got way more talkative and goofy and eager for their attention. He remembers all the fights over Multimouse he and the lady had led. It all came together now.

"Of course I am," they said, tying the necklace around their neck and meeting with Mullo, once again.

"I've missed you Y/N," Mullo said, happily flying around.

"I can say the same" they responded, ready to transform "Mullo, get squeaky!"

"Wow," both of the Paris' superheroes were smitten. Stealing a dirty look from each other for one last time they created a plan with Multimouse to defeat Ninkilia. As Ladybug said, she is completely sure the Akuma is in her hand machine.

"That's the plan, just follow my lead" she finished her speech

"As you wish my lady" Multimouse chimed in before Chat Noir could say anything. Ladybug's hot cheeks were prominent through her mask, and the cat looked nothing but jealous.

"R-right, let's go" the girl with spots exclaimed, her cheeks still burning red.

Jumping from the roof, Multimouse teased the villain. "A mouse? No!" Ninkilia yelled. "If you can live in the garbage now, why can't you do it in a form of a true rat itself" she cried as she shot around random people on the street.

"We have to get to her hand machine quickly," Chat Noir said fighting the lady in black. "And maybe then we can go somewhere just the two of us."

He winked at Multimouse who only laughed, and earned a look of pure hatred from Ladybug. Expecting a comment on his own behalf, Chat Noir was surprised by the lady's response. "You don't want to go with him trust me. I know the best ice cream in town."

Multimouse only laughed "Let's get rid of this rat lady first," they said "Multitude!"

"No, not the mice!" Ninkilia desperately tried shooting the little mice around her as they climbed up her legs. Ladybug's yoyo wrapped around her, pinning her to the ground.

"Chat Noir!" Ladybug exclaimed.

"Cataclysm"

The Akuma has been purified and the trio has once more, saved the day. "Pound it!"

"It has been a pleasure working with you" black cat smiled sheepishly, taking the mouse's hand and kissing it softly. "Will I have the pleasure of seeing you again soon?"

"We'll see," they said, signalizing Ladybug it's time to go.

Ladybug pulled them close, taking them by the waist and already feeling her heart beat faster. Multimouse, or precisely, Y/N placed their head in the crook of her neck and sent shivers down her spine. Soon, they were flying through the air, holding just by her yoyo.

"Thank you for choosing me," they said, as they scootched closer to her body, clinging in fear of falling down.

"How could I not?"

Marinette's heartbeat raced faster as they shared a soft smile. If it were up to her, she would like to fight alongside them all the time.

#miraculous marinette #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #chat noir x reader #marinette x reader #ladybug x reader #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #adrien x reader #mlb #mlb adrien #plagg #tikki #mullo #imagine #one-shot #fanfiction #miraculous

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theredvaporeon · 2 years

Text

[Previous?] “Sure!”

“What could go wrong?” Right?

The 18 year old followed behind the man, hands shoved into his washed out jeans, chewing slightly at his lip as he scanned the scenery around him. Cerluean was a beautiful city with its rivers, beautiful blue skies, and the mountains looming in the background. His mind went back to his recent gym battle against Misty; the gym leader of Cerluean having just recently taken over the gym from her sisters. She was younger than he was, and pretty gosh darn talanted. Her team of two Staryu put up quite the challenge. The corners of Ven’s lips upturned at the thought of his victory; he was going to be the next Kanto champion! He just knew it! Joining Team Rocket would be tempoary a good was to earn some money without resorting to mother and father, no they’ve done enough. Ven wanted to make it on his own in the world. The grunt was a couple feet ahead of him, hands on his hips, exclaiming just how awesome Team Rocket was and how he was possibly due for a promotion. “You impress the higher ups, and you’ll be moving up through the ranks rather quickly dude.” He exclaims, turning around to grin at Ven who looks honestly a little out of it. “It’ll be a lot to take in at first, but listen to what your superiors have to say, don’t run your mouth- because talk shit, get hit- and don’t get caught by the cops, a’ight?” “Er, uh... Yeah.” Ven mutters, his thoughts about his recent gym battle dissapating from his mind. “Alright, Ven, was it? Celadon isn’t too far, we should be there before sundown.” The grunt turned heel and contiuned on keeping up a brisk pace. Ven could only nod enthusiastically and pick up his pace, the two walking in silence for most of the treck, but occasionally speaking up to talk about little things to break the silence. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Celadon was bustling, filled with so many people each with their own agenda. Growing up in Saffron City he was used to the hustle and bustle of the city. Saffron was famous for the Silph Co. building, so lots of scientists worked in the city, as well as Busissness men and women, and with it being a hub town you seen a healthy variety of people come and go; from trainers who are determined to battle Sabrina and walk out dejected because she wiped the floor with her team, to even aspiring blackbelts who travel to train at the fighting Dojo, the former Saffron Gym. It was never a dull day in the city, really. The grunt lead the duo to around the heart of the city; the Celadon Game corner. Ven’s cheeks heated up. What where they doing there? He wasn’t even old enough to gamble- “Follow me.” The grunt said, his face serious, motioning with his hand as Ven stuck close to him. “Right.” He managed to clamber out, avoiding eye contact as they entered the Casino. Oh Arceus, he was nervous. A quick talk to another member dressed in black with a red ‘R’ on the shirt and Ven was being led down a staircase. As they were heading down he could hear people talking, though he was unable to make out any words. Sounds like there was a lot of people here. “Okay, this is where I leave ya. Follow the door to the right, you’ll be taken care of by the recruiters specialized with dealing with ya new lots. Can’t wait to see where this career takes ya dude.” The grunt motioned in the direction of where Ven would be going before waving the red haired teen good bye. “See ya out in the field, grunt.” Grunt. Ven blinked, an uneasy feeling in his stomach. “Such a weird nickname...” He muttered, shaking his head. Oh well, might as well get this over with, this was going to be his life now for an undetermined amount of time. Stone orbs searched for where he was supopsed to go, his brows furrowing slightly as he thought about what the grunt had told him. Did he go too far? Ven big his lip in frustration before huffing and nearly walking into a pink haired grunt. “Hey! Watch it kid!” The guy growled, a scowl on his face. “Sorry!” He held his hands up in surrender, trying not to start a fight. “Do it again and I’ll knock yer teeth out!” He spat before walking off. “Seesh, someone’s moody today.” The teen muttered, a little more aware of where he was going now. Still lost from the feel of it. Eyes locking with another grunt, he waved over to them; this time a female, dressed in the black uniform the other grunt had, pink hair tucked underneath a cap, which was obscuring most of her face. “Hey, can you tell me where we get our uniforms?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck. The girl nodded, “Yeah, just at the very end of the hall. You’re almost there. Good luck.” She smirked. “Thanks...” He muttered, looking over to the end of the hall. There was a bit of a line, about 10 people standing and waiting, this had to be it. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The wait wasn’t too long, the teen stepping out of the room, a clipboard in one hand, his brows furrowed as his free hand smoothed out his new uniform.

“No going back now.”

#plot #backstory #ven trainer #xander eevee #mostly text in this update #bear with me I don't normally write #I tried so hard though!!!

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aellynera · 3 years

Text

Goddess (Orestes x Reader)

GODDESS

(Hi. I wrote an Orestes story - it started as a joke about the way Apocalypse says “my goddess”, and then I was like “oh man I want Orestes to call me his goddess” and then as usual, I don’t know how, but this happened. It’s rather different than most things I write, but I quite enjoyed writing it and I hope you like it. Comments, likes, and reblogs always appreciated!)

Word Count: ~4400

Summary: Orestes is a constant in your life and has a particular way of constantly reminding you.

Warnings: Mentions of character death (briefly described but not graphically.) Implied female reader. Definite probable historical inaccuracies taken for poetic license and dramatic effect. ANGST (I made myself cry while I was writing this.) Christians doing morally void but historically accurate things. Fictional timelines.

When you are four years old, your parents leave everything they’ve built in Rome - their jobs in the palace, their lives in the city, your father’s position on the council -upon the orders of the Emperor and move to Alexandria. Your father’s new role is to assist in turning that city into a bastion of the Empire, to help strengthen the government and support the supremacy of Rome. Your mother is to be a gentle guide to the women, in hearth and home and higher society. And because you are theirs, you go with them.

They meet with the prefect upon your arrival and he welcomes your family. He is bright and cheerful, yet loud and pompous and booming, stern but wise, and while he is a kind man, his volume frightens you. You cower behind your mother’s skirts, steadfastly clinging to her and refusing to join in any pleasantries.

Another woman suddenly appears, a small boy with curly hair and bright dark eyes holding her hand. The boy regards you curiously and asks why you won’t come out and say hello. His mother tells him you’re shy, while your mother encourages you to release your death grip on her gown. Finally, after much coaxing, you relent and she pushes you gently towards the little boy.

His mother says you should go play in the garden while the grown-ups talk, and he reaches a tiny hand out to you, wide-eyed and smiling. His name is Orestes, and he is six.

And when you take his hand with a shy little smile, his voice comes out as a whisper and tells you he thinks you’re a goddess, and he drags you towards the garden to show you the little blue flowers that dot the grass, and you believe him.

***

When you are eight years old, one day you finish your chores early and decide to spend your extra time in the yard, weaving some wildflowers together into a chain while the mid-afternoon sun warms your shoulders.

You are quite happy to be alone and not around the grown-ups for now; they’re so loud, sometimes too loud. You crave the quiet, seek it out often, and you bask in it.

Until a rush of dark curls and bright eyes tears past your house, into your yard, and grabs you by the hand, knocking your flower chain carelessly to the ground. He insists you come play with him on the hill nearby and with a squeal of indignation, you let yourself be dragged along behind him.

Your ire over the discarded flower chain is soon forgotten as your squeals become laughter as you roll and roll down the hill together, grass and dirt sticking to your robes and tufts sticking to his unruly curls.

When you tell him he looks silly, he tells you he doesn’t, and you insist that he does and he protests that he doesn’t. And so it goes back and forth and back again, until you push him or he pushes you or someone pushes the other and you both go tumbling down that hill, end over head over feet, your descent only stopped by a patch of mud at the bottom.

He might be the son of the prefect, and he might be your best friend, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t an enormous brat sometimes.

For a minute you’re both panting and red-faced and near tears, until he starts to giggle and you can’t help but join in, and only laugh harder at his outraged gasp when you hit him square in the chest with a chunk of mud.

And on the way back to your house, when you’re worrying your bottom lip thinking on how to explain to your mother why you’re covered in dead grass and damp bits of dirt, your robes most likely ruined, he tells you with the kind of confidence only possessed by a boy of ten years that everything will be fine, because you are a goddess and brave and strong, and you believe him.

***

When you are twelve years old, you hear of the school that Hypatia is running, because Orestes tells you about it when he starts going. You don’t like that he’s doing something without you. You don’t like being left behind and left out and you want to go to this school too.

Your mother would easily say yes, but your father is reluctant, and it’s not that he thinks a woman shouldn’t learn philosophy and how to read and do arithmetic; it’s more that enough other people in the city do think like this and he is convinced it will not be safe for you.

You care little for your safety. All you want, all you desire, is to be part of this group of scholars and to go to this school and learn. And what danger can possibly be there, when a woman is the one in charge?

So you beg and plead and bargain with your father, until a boy - now a young man - with curls like nighttime and eyes nearly as dark and twinkling with stars, steps in and says he’ll watch over you during your classes, and your father gives his permission. And so you start attending Hypatia’s school.

And when the older boys, boys who were nearly men and should know better, start to bully and deride you for desiring knowledge, when they taunt you and steal your scrolls and yank the ribbons from your hair, he steps in and tells them in no uncertain terms to leave you alone. Neither of your fathers, especially his, are particularly thrilled with the tussles he gets in on your behalf, or the black eye that one petulant snipe Cyrus gives him when he connects a punch when Orestes isn’t properly paying attention.

You frown at him as he sits in a chair next to the washbasin, a clean wet cloth clutched in your hand. He winces as you clean the blood from his cheek and gingerly probe the bruise swelling around his eye.

And when you softly ask why he’d do such a stupid thing, he tells you that even a goddess needs a hero to protect them sometimes, and even though you think him entirely ridiculous and heat comes unbidden to your cheeks, it makes you giddy to believe him.

***

When you are sixteen years old, you watch the boy with the wild ebony curls and liquid chocolate eyes fall in love with a girl. Only it isn’t a girl, it’s a woman, and you realize he’s been doing it for years.

Ever since your first day in the new city, he has always been by your side and you by his, an inseparable duo. You thought that would never change, but here you are, finding yourself forced to watch your best friend slowly but surely let his heart be ensnared by your very own teacher.

All he can talk about now, it seems, is Hypatia and her philosophies; Hypatia and her scrolls and the amazing things she is currently reading; Hypatia and her outlandish theories on the universe and the stars. Always Hypatia, all things Hypatia.

You never knew you could hate someone as amazing and wonderful as Hypatia.

It doesn’t seem to matter that his attentions are not equally returned, that she never fully indulges his lovesick whims and overreaching attempts to gain her attention. She continues to treat him as a student, and outside of class possibly even as a dear friend, and he continues to pine.

One afternoon you’re among the stacks of scrolls at the library, trying to find the parchment necessary to complete an assignment Hypatia has given you. You honestly would rather not find it and not even bother finishing your assigned work right now, and you must have some kind of look on your face because he takes the scroll you’re clutching from your hand and leads you to a mostly hidden nook in the room. And he stops talking about Hypatia for a moment to ask you what is wrong.

You want to tell him you miss him, that you want him back, that he’s making a mistake, but you can’t, you don’t. It takes a bit more coaxing, but you finally tell him you’re lonely and you wish there was someone you could find, someone you had to love as much as he had his person, he smiles and tells you that one day you will, because you’re a goddess and the right person will be pulled to the love and light you always emit. You smile back weakly and blink and look away and you want nothing more than to believe him.

***

When you are twenty years old, the library at Alexandria is destroyed.

It happens on a sunny afternoon not unlike so many others that have passed before, when suddenly the doors are broken down and the Christians rush in and the chaos ensues.

You’re sitting at a table with a quill in your hand, carefully writing your thoughts on a piece of parchment, when you hear the shouting in the entryway. And before you know what’s going on, shelves are being knocked over, papers tossed into the air like so much confetti, scrolls being thrown left and right. The air is beginning to smell acrid; you can see a few people setting small fires in some of the stacks.

The windows above you shatter as others throw rocks and even a chair, and you look around wildly for a way out. You don’t know which way is the right way to go, or even if there is a right way to go.

Everything is madness.

A pair of arms suddenly shoot out and grab you around the waist and your scream pierces the air like the horn on the top of the lighthouse trying to guide a ship to shore. Instead you realize you’re trying to drive this ship to its ruin, to free yourself from its depths with wildly swinging elbows and kicks, until you hear a familiar voice shouting your name over the ruckus.

You take in your assailant, all frantic curls and impossibly wide, dark eyes, and collapse into him in relief. Orestes tells you that you need to go, you need to get out, and to find both your fathers in the nearby council chambers and they’ll know where to go, where it’s safe. You ask him to come with you, but he shakes his head.

He tells you he needs to help save as many of the books and scrolls as he can, and you tell him to give you all you can carry and when you run, you’ll take them with you. So he loads your arms full to bursting, and when a rock flies by inches from your face and you drop the items at the top of the pile, he ignores that and pushes you roughly in the direction of the side exit. He says you must leave now, and he’ll be behind you before you know it.

He presses his lips to your temple ever so briefly, spares you a pained smile, and says you’re a goddess for the small bit of assistance you are giving.

As you run for safety, or what might be further peril, you spare a glance over your shoulder and see him helping Hypatia grab as much of the library’s contents as they can, and you don’t have another second to spare on deciding whether or not to believe him.

***

When you are twenty four, it’s your wedding day and everyone tells you this will be the most joyous day of your life so far. Your mother helps you dress in the softest, most expensively beautiful gown you’ve ever owned, and one of your sisters weaves a crown of laurels for your hair. Another sister makes a chain of wildflowers to wind around your wrist. You have never felt as beautiful as you do on this day.

Your father comes to the door of the chamber where your preparations are taking place, to let you know that the guests have all arrived and the groom is nearly ready, and it is almost time. He gives you a kiss on both cheeks, a gesture not common from him, and tells you he will be waiting out by the garden gate when you are ready. Your mother and sisters each kiss your cheek and leave as well, giving you a moment to yourself to gather your thoughts and emotionally prepare for the ceremony.

The door opens again a few minutes later and you turn to face the person behind it, Your eyes go wide, confused, as you take in the man before you. His dark curls are smoothed back and elegantly styled, his robes are regal and dashing, and his eyes are bright and nervous.

You tell him he shouldn’t be here.

He tells you that he knows, but he can’t help it, he has to see you. That he has been thinking of you all morning, wondering how beautiful you look, how happy you must be, and he just had to see you before you walk down the aisle to take your vows.

You bite your lip and tell him, again, that he shouldn’t be here and you can’t stop your voice from shaking. You turn your head away and look anywhere but at him.

And he repeats that he knows this, and he knows it’s wrong, it goes against all protocols, but he can’t help himself, can’t stop thinking that this is the last time he’s going to see you, see your smile and maybe hear your laugh, might be the last time your eyes can gaze upon each other and the last time he can hold you in his arms as his best friend.

You can’t think of a single thing to say to him, and even if you could, you’re certain your body will not cooperate.

Because he is not the one you are marrying. No, this marriage was arranged by your father and the Emperor, and there is the overwhelming chance that you must go back to Rome, and if you and your new husband leave Alexandria it is not likely you will ever return.

This might be the last time he can tell you that you shine with a light brighter than all the heavens, that you are beautiful and he hopes you will be happy, and you truly are a goddess among mortals.

And so Orestes does. He kisses you softly on your forehead, staying there a bit longer than propriety suggests, and quietly slips from the room. And you can’t see for the tears swimming in your eyes, and you want with all your heart to believe him, but you can’t help but find his words hollow and realize this will be far from the greatest day of your life.

***

When you are barely turned twenty-five, there is a knock on your door in the middle of the night. Perhaps knock is not the correct word, it’s more of an insistent pounding, and you swear under your breath at what could possibly be so important to rouse you out of bed at this unacceptable hour.

You pull a robe over your nightdress and open the door, and all the air leaves your lungs.

Four centurions are standing on your stoop, with a man who looks vaguely familiar; is he a general, maybe, or a captain? You can’t remember where you’ve seen him before, but it doesn’t matter, when he greets you solemnly and begins to speak, and tells you that your husband will not be returning from the front.

You did not return to Rome, as had originally been decreed. You stayed in Alexandria after your marriage because skirmishes had broken out along a few of the empire’s borders, and your new husband was called to action to fight for his ruler and the kingdom. Deep down, you could not have been more glad of it, for though you were born there, Rome had not been your home for over twenty years, and starting a new life there with a new husband would not have made it any more so.

Your knees give out from under you and you consider for a moment that you should be crying, but you aren’t really sad and it strikes you as odd, but you can’t force the tears to come. You love your husband, in a way, but you’re not sad that he won’t be coming home. You’re relieved, and the instant that thought hits you and sends a jolt through your body, you start to laugh. The general, or captain, or whoever he is and his guards look at each other, then at you, and back to each other in utter confusion as you continue to giggle.

It all happens in mere seconds, and you’re sinking to the stone floor beneath, and a very familiar voice, one you have not heard since the day you were wed, tells the guards to stand aside and strong arms catch you before you can tumble completely.

His hair is wild and curly like he was just pulled out of bed himself, and his dark eyes shine with worry and compassion, and he asks you if you’re alright, and this is what finally breaks you from your laughter and brings wetness to your eyes.

Orestes holds you as you cry into his chest and you don’t see the pointed look he gives to the captain and the guards, nor do you see them pull back enough to close the door and wait outside.

You don’t know how long you sit there on the floor in the front hall, or how you’ve possibly gotten his robes that soggy, but eventually you calm and the thoughts roll through your brain again. You are crying because someone has died, you realize this is true even if you’re not so very sad it was your husband. You’re crying because it was your husband and now there will be the mourning period you must dutifully attend as a grieving widow. And now that you’re a widow, eventually you will be expected to take another husband, if one even dares to want you.

And you’re crying because the one reason you were glad to stay in this forsaken city - in the Alexandria which had become your home - the one reason you hoped every day to lay eyes on again and every night resigned that you never would, was suddenly here, his arms wrapped around you and his voice whispering words of comfort into your hair.

You’re not sure when he picks you up and carries you back to your bed, carefully laying you on your pillows and pulling the sheet up to cover your shoulders. You’re not sure how long he stays, holding your hand and brushing stray tendrils of hair from your face. And you’re not sure how long you drift in and out, emotional exhaustion finally catching up and pulling you into nothingness, but before you fade out completely, you feel his thumb gently brush the remaining tears from your cheek, and feel the soft press of his lips on your forehead as he calls you a goddess and tells you to rest.

And as you finally give yourself to the twilight, you aren’t sure if you imagined it, but you choose to believe him, and you cling to it.

***

You’re not sure when it happens, to be honest. Time starts to blend together after that, you just know that you’re older and that it happens, and it isn’t right and it isn’t moral and it isn’t fair. Not to anyone involved, not to the city, not at all.

Hypatia has died, been murdered in the temple at the hands of those who profess themselves to be righteous saviors, brutally stoned and ripped apart as she stood there, proud and defiant to the end. How anyone could do such a thing to another human, especially one such as her, is beyond your comprehension.

It only gets worse when they burn her corpse on a pyre in effigy in the middle of the agora.

Word comes to you of the horrible events, and your first instinct is to find him, the way he found you, came to you when word of your husband’s death made its way back to the city. You set down the parchment you’re scribbling on the desk in your room and grab a dark cloak, partly to conceal yourself and party to ward off the slight chill from the wind.

You make your way to the prefect’s palace but you’re turned away at the gate by pair of surly-looking guards, and giving your name, and then your father’s name, and then the fact that your father reports directly to Rome makes no difference to them. They have been told to let no one in, and let no one out.

No one except the person you’re looking for, apparently, because somewhere in the aftermath you discover that Orestes is nowhere to be found.

No one knows where he’s gone, and no one knows when he left, just that it was sometime between Hypatia being murdered and the fake funeral pyre. He had words with Cyril, someone told you, and then after that, no one knows.

And the Christians take over the city, much like the library so many years ago, and more people are burned at the stake, more people are murdered, more progress is halted, all in the name of what is right and what is true.

They will kill you, too, if they find you, or find out you’re looking for Orestes. It’s been years since you’ve really been in his presence in anything but the smallest of ways, especially in public, but you know there are still enough people who know how close you were. And if they know you used to be close, you know they won’t hesitate to come after you the same way they came for the philosopher.

So you make inquiries as discreetly as possible, ask the gossips that litter the merchants’ stalls in the most innocent way possible, like you’re just a curious citizen asking what’s happened to the rule of order in the city. You even ask your father, once, but he doesn’t reply and his stony gaze makes you certain to never ask again.

And you bury yourself in scrolls and reading, in star charts and theories; in anything, really, that will take your mind off everything that is happening and your lost prefect. Your lost friend, your best friend.

The man you truly love, even if it’s taken you years of self-doubt and missed chances to fully realize and admit it, and now, perhaps do something about it.

One day as you’re sitting at your desk, quill in hand and head in the clouds, you think of something. Something that may be nothing, but it comes to you in a flash and you have an idea of where to go, where to find him, somewhere that few others might know.

You carefully pack a bag with some clothes and supplies, and a crudely drawn map that you sketch from memory and hope you’ve gotten right. It’s been so long since you were there but you’re fairly sure you remember the way. You know that Orestes would remember.

A long day’s journey and a fitful night’s sleep take you into the next day, and the afternoon turns into dusk when the hillside comes into view. It is not the same hill you tumbled down more than once when the two of you got into a scrum, but it’s the one that you would go when you could both sneak away and no one would notice for a few days, and you’d stare at clouds by day and the stars by night.

There is an outcropping set back from the hill, in the base of the mountains nearby, that a person wouldn’t see if they didn’t know where to look. You’d found it one day during a particularly vicious thunderstorm and taken refuge in the cave there, and you’d both commented on how someone had clearly found it once before you, for it was somewhat set up as a living space, with some mats and blankets and a few rations left on makeshift shelves. Anytime you were on these excursions and it would rain, or you simply wanted to be out of the sun, that was where you would go.

And you hope against hope that this is where your answer lies.

You crest the hill and make your way to the foot of the mountain and you can’t help but smile, just a little, thinking this is where he would have gone, should have gone, as his name means of the mountains. In his abandonment, his escape from the city, could he have taken it literally? You’ve known him so long and it feels like the kind of thing Orestes would do.

The hovel comes into view, and you drop your pack, because he does too. Tending to a fire at the mouth of the cave, his back turned slightly to you, his curls a glorious disaster, and he’s grown a beard since last you’d seen him. It’s a look you’ve not seen on him before, but you quite like it, although you consider for just a moment you’d like any look on him at this moment, because he is real and he is standing right in front of you.

The sound of the pack hitting the ground makes him turn, and his dark eyes shine in the firelight, and he looks at you for long moments but doesn’t say anything. Orestes just stares at you, disbelieving, like you might be some kind of mirage or a trick of the light or even some kind of wicked spirit sent to torment him, and so he just stares.

Until you breathe his name.

He blinks once, and his face is suddenly full of hope and relief, all the tension and disbelief of the previous moments falling away, and your heart soars to the heavens and thumps ever so boldly in your chest, and your smile threatens to crack your lips, and the tears fall freely as words finally leave his mouth.

“My goddess.”

~end~

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#orestes #orestes x reader #orestes x you #orestes fanfic #orestes fanfiction #agora fanfic #agora fanfiction #my writing

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bangbangchanie · 3 years

Text

Maybe~Chan/ Changbin

Summary: When the love of your life died, falling again is paralyzing yet the person who's always been there makes it a maybe.

Paring: Reader x Chan(Past)/ Reader x Changbin

Warning: Character death, like angst really angst. Fluff

Word Count: 3.2K

AN: Admin Winnie here! Finally reposting this after removing a certain someone. Its the same sad story just with Changbin:)

Arms were tightly wrapped around your waist as your eyes stared at the scene in front of you. Red and blue lights flashing in the dark night sky as smoke and a blaring ringing sound echoes through your ears. You didn't realize you were screaming, screaming out his name as you saw his mangled car. Your knees buckled as the EMT who was holding you fell with you.

“Christopher!” You sobbed. His eyes were watching you from the scene, his body moving across the road.

“Baby, are you okay?” He asks as he reaches mid way as you cry his name again. “Baby, Y/n I’m right in front of yo-” he was cut off from talking and walking when someone walked through him. Your cries grew distant as he looked at his chest, his eyes wide as he looked back to the car. His bleeding body was being dragged from the car, as CEPR was being performed. It felt surreal, watching his limp body move with someone’s pushed against his chest. He brought out his thoughts when your cry turned into a scream of pain. His eyes met your crumbling body, he moved to you. His hand reaching out to only have it pass through your face making you curse.

“I’m here, baby, right in front of you. I swear I’m not leaving, not now, not ever.” He whispered tears trailing down his face as you finally stopped screaming his name and just cried. “I’m still here.”

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

“Chris..Chris was the life of the party even if there wasn’t one.” Minho said as he shook his head a small smile lifted up on his lips, though his smile was painfully matched with swollen red bloodshot eyes. His cheeks puffy as you stood in all black in your shared apartment. “He did this thing where if it was too quiet he’d just start singing a random ass song and dancing. You know? He..he always tried to find the light in the dullest things, and he always…he always made me feel..us feel like we were…are bigger than this.” His eyes tailored to your hunched body, your eyes dull as you give him a small smile, tears trailing down your face as his mother grips your hand. Her sobs wracked her body as Minho looked at the glass in his hand. “Y/n..Mr. and Mrs. Bang..Chris…god he was a special man. I am so thankful you two gave him a life and a voice..and Y/n thank you for making him smile when no one else could…this is for you brother.” Chris was next to you and his mother, his eyes tearing up as he watched Minho turn around and let out a small sob as he walked away. Changbin stepped up, his skin pasty and his eyes just as bloodshot.

“We met in the second grade..he was new and had this accent that kids liked to make fun of. But he never saw it as a set back, and took it as a complement…he..fuck.” Changbin stopped speaking as he wiped his eyes. “I..I was told a month ago that he was..was looking for a ring.” He paused, making you stop breathing for a split second as you leaned closer to his mother, your heart clenching as Changbin looked at you. “I was told to prepare a speech as best man, that who I was to Chris and who he was to me. He was..and still is my brother. A man I want to scream at because he left us. He left me. With a speech, and no event to give it at. I wanted to give it here, but I can’t because it hurts too much. I’m so sorry Y/n..” Changbin coughs as he steps away as you wipe at your face. You take a shaky breath as you stand. His brother is clinging to your hand as Chris watches you, moving to stand to your blank side.

“Thank you all for coming..I know..I know Chris would scream at us all for crying like this.” Your words made his mother choke back a cry as his father rubbed her shoulder. “He didn't like it when the people he loved were upset, or cried. He didn’t enjoy not know-knowing how to fix..fix it all.” You breathed out as you messed with your black dress. “He loved with his whole heart…we all know that. He did..he did this weird habit that I still don’t understand and I was with him for four years..but where’d he grab the bottom of his shirt and spread it out in front of him when he was in deep thought.” His mother chuckled as she shook her head.

“He stretched every single one of his school shirts.” She said, making the room lightly laugh as you look at Changbin and Minho who clang to each other, their trio now turning into a duo.

“We love you Chris..I love you.” You whisper as you sit back down, people now talking among one another as you swear you feel a wetness drop on your shoulder where his head hangs over as he tries to imagine his arms around you.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

“Honestly fuck you Christopher Bang!” You scratched at the broken picture frame. Your eyes were full of tears as you looked out the window. People living their lives, unknowingly passing the house of a broken girl that had black running down her face and it pissed you off that they didn’t know.

His scent was still wrapped around you, around the four walls of the apartment you shared together. His clothes still hung up in the clothes, and tossed outside of a drawer. His pillow at the end of the bed and his shoes resting against the front door wall.

“I hate you so much!” Your voice cracked as you fell to the hardwood ground. His large sweater falls over your hands as you bring your knees to your chest and sob into them. “Yo-you just left, n-no good-goodbye n-no an-anything.” You cried tears falling down as you rocked back and forth. The pain in your chest was breaking you down, shattering against any idea of love you had any future you planned together. You swear you heard his voice making you perk up and look around, the shuffling of his pillow made you stand up and wipe your cheeks. “Chris?” You whispered as you watched the bed dip.

“Y/n?” Changbin called out as he slowly set the key he had been given when you and Christopher had moved in. He was the security blanket for you two, always making sure you were sleeping, and eating. Killed the bug for the both of you, and watched the place as you traveled. “Oh Y/n.” He whispered seeing you down the hall in the bedroom. He walked down as you keep your eyes locked on the pillow, a dip in the bed that wasn’t there before. Your heart stopped as an arm wrapped around your middle, making you blink, and the dip in the bed was gone. “Come on, let me make you some hot chocolate.” He whispered against your hair as he pulled away and took your hand. His own body was covered in one of Christopher’s jackets. His body moved throughout the kitchen. “A month down.” He whispers, making you sigh as you let out another sob as your head falls.

“I-i miss him so fucking much.” You sob, making Changbin stop moving as he turns and looks at you. “Th-this isn't fair, we-we were gonna move into a house.” You whisper, making Changbin face you his mouth parted at the new information. “My love, my hero ,my everything was ripped for me…and it’s all his fault.” You sob, making Woojin jump into your body, his arm tightly wrapped around you as your body shakes.

“It's gonna be okay…it's gonna get easier..I think.”

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

“What the fuck did you do to our bed?!” You scream at Minho and Changbin who were standing in the living room talking.

“What do you mean? I mean I made it-ow!” Minho cried as you slapped him. Tears falling down your face as you glare at him.

“His pillow stays where it was, his blanket stays bunched up..I can't recreate it, because it won't be the damm same! You asshole!” You cry as you start to shake as Minho's eyes widen. Not realizing it hadn't made sense he last laid there.

“I did-didn't know.” Your body shook as Chan finally found a way to hug you without passing through you. His head nuzzles your neck making you cry harder.

“Im..I’m sorry.” You whisper, making Minho step forward and cup your cheek.

“It's okay.” Chris moves away and Minho and you share a group hug with Woojin.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

“Chris..I know this..this is weird.” You mumble as Chris sits next you on the bed, his hands reaching for your thigh as you let out a deep breath of air. “This is honestly crazy..but I just need you to know..what I said a few weeks ago..that it was your fault..it..it wasn't true..and when I screamed I hate you..it wasn't even close to the truth. Because…'cause you were..were the one and..I still need you here but you gone..and I took it personal…but death shouldn’t be personal.” You whisper, making him lightly smile as you take a deep breath. “I think..I think I’m gonna pack up some of your clothes.. give a few to your mom. They all smell like you.” You whisper as you reach for your phone and call up his mom for help.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

“Are you sure you're ready for this?” He asked as he watched you pack some of his shirts and pants for goodwill.

“Yeah..it's been nine months..I need to do this..it's not a lot..but..a start?” You mumble making Minho nod as he helps you empty one draw of his. “Okay..no more.”

“Progress.”

“Progress.” Giving each other a high five Chris chuckles as Minho misses making you laugh echo in return. Something Chris hasn’t heard in months.

Progress it was.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

“Binnie!” You laughed as Changbin spun you around your living room, his hand tickling your sides as Chris watched, a ping of jealousy hitting him. But he understood, watching you and his friends the past few months, the feeling for Changbin had grown for you and you him.

He wanted you two happy.

So he came up with a plan, his spirit moved through the walls as he grabbed your journal and opened up to your most recent entry. His eyes scan the words.

'I haven’t felt this way about someone since I first met Chris..and it feels wrong but so right at the same time. Changbin had made this feeling come up that I thought I’d never feel again. And it’s scary. I don't know if I can handle losing someone again.’

And then he knocks a picture frame down making a loud crash disrupt the two of you messing around. Changbin stood up straight as he placed you close to the couch and looked down the hall.

“Wait here."he mumbled walking into your bedroom, where he looked around till a picture frame that he glued together from the time you’d throw it across the room in a fit of anger, caught his eyes. It was a picture of Chris smiling, his eyes bright as your lips pressed against his cheek. It made Changbin smile as he saw the man he considered his brother, he hadn’t looked at a photo of him in a year, it felt good. It felt good seeing his face again, even if it would never be the same. It was still Christopher Bang smiling, and he swore he could hear the hum sound he made while you kissed his cheek.

As he moved it back where he remembered where he placed it after he fixed it. His eyes casted down and he saw your entry, and his heart began to speed up.

"She..she feels the same?” He whispered to himself, making Chris smile as he stood next to him and spoke.

“Of course she does, you make her happy.” Changbin jumped as he felt the vibrations of a voice he knew all too well in his head. “Can you hear me?” Chris said, making Changbin look around, and nod slightly.

“Bin? Is everything okay?” You ask walking into your room seeing the frame in his hand, his wide eyes stare at you.

“Uh..yeah.” he chokes as he runs his hand down his face. “Yeah..just this picture fell.” You humm as you move to stand next to him and stare at the two of you, tears gather in your eyes making Chris reach to wipe it away as he did so Changbin. He smiled at his friend as he watched the two of you stare at each other.

“Oh..shit.” you whisper seeing your entry that was open as you move fast to shut it. Already having an idea that he knew and now was ready to leave and never come back.“Did you..”

“Yeah. Yeah I did.”

“I think..I think you should go.” You whisper, making Changbin frown as he moves to rest and hand on your shoulder but you shrugged to get away from him. “Just..just leave..please.”

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

“Y/n, please call me back. We need to talk..please.” You listened to your voicemail again, Changbin pleas only made your heart break more.

“Dammit women, call him back!” Chris snaps as he watches you bite your lip. His favorite sweater wrapped around you, making his dead heart thud rapidly against his chest. Then his own voice travels through the air making his eyes widen. “Why do you do this to yourself, baby?”

“Hey baby, I just wanted to call to let you know I’ll be outside of the building waiting for you in five…I know I’m too late to change but I think my office attire will work for the date..I know you’ll look beautiful as usual..hence why you’re probably not answering me! But it's fine,I love you..I’ll see you in a bit.” You play another one, “Baby! Changbin just dropped off food, I swear he’d be a better boyfriend than me like how he is his single! Anyway I just wanted to call and say I love you, and have an amazing day at work!” As you went to play another you phone began to glitch due to Chris being the playfully smart ghost he is, and found a way to only play the part he wanted you to hear. “I love you, but it's fine you like Changbin.” It was choppy and wasn’t even a proper sentence but it made you throw your phone onto the bed as you stare at it. It played again, and again as Chris watched your eyes widen.

“Christopher Bang I swear if this you are coming to haunt my ass I’ll find a way to bring you back and kill you again!” You whisper, making him chuckle, your eyes snap to the empty spot in front of you, where he sat. “I..I finally broke didn’t I..cause I did..I did not just hear that laugh.” You whimper, making him frown as he looks at you. “I’ve missed that laugh.” You breathe out making him giggle, a smile lifting on your cheeks as your phone rings pulling you out of your thoughts.

Binnie is calling.

“Pick it up.” Chris said, making you roll your lip as you hear the very faint vibrations, like he was talking while you rested your head on his chest.

“Hello?” You answer by making Woojin let out a breath as he begins to speak but you cut him off. “I..I like you.”

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

“I haven’t been here since the funeral.” You whisper walking hand and hand with Changbin, followers and balloons in hand as Chris' family walks in front of you. It was his birthday today. You somehow had gotten through the first one, tears and snot but this one..this one was easier in a way. Chris trailed next to the two of you as he watched you closely, the twinkle in your eye was back, Changbin's smile was bigger than ever.

Soon you reached his tombstone, bending down your smile, “Hi baby.” You whisper as Chris sits next to his name, you sit on the grass as his family sits on the bench next to his grave. Changbin sits behind you, over the last few months Chris' family has fully supported you two with the love that was twining the two of you. You place the flowers next to his name and lean against Changbin. “Happy birthday weirdo.” You mumble, making Changbin laugh as Minho arrives, his body moving to sit next to the two of you as he hits a card in his hand. “What’s that Min?” You ask.

“I….just a letter to my brother.” Minho says, making you nod as he places it next to your flowers, Chris smiles at his friends and family.

“What do you think he's doing right now?”

“About to fight Changbin.” Minho says with a smile, making Chris' mother laugh as she shakes her head.

“Idiot.” Changbin said, hitting his shoulder as he laughed and nuzzled his face into your shoulder.

“I..I hope he’s happy wherever he is. I hope he is at peace and that…that he isn’t actually haunting me.” You laugh, making Chris follow as Changbin nods and Minho and his family giggle. “I mean he said, if he ever died he’d haunt me so I’m wondering if it’s happening.” You said wiping the tear that fell down your cheek.

“I wonder if he can finally sit in peace and enjoy the quiet sunsets.” Minho mumbles, making the three of you look at eachother and break out in laughter.

“As if.” Changbin laughs as you place your head into his collarbone.

“I just want him to be happy.”

“I am happy..I think..I think I can leave now.” Chris mumbles to himself, another Ghost at the tree waiting with a smile on his face, freckles covering his cheeks as his fringe falls over his eyes.“I..I can let go now. Baby..baby I ..I love you so much. I know you won't hear this, I know you won’t..but I just..I just love you so much. I’m so happy you’re happy. Thank you for the birthday wishes…I love you guys.” He stood up and walked to the tree, the unknown ghost smiled and clapped him on the back.

“Are you ready for the fun part kid?” He asks, making Chris look at him with wide eyes.

“Will..will I see them again?” His question made the unknown ghost chuckle as he laughed.

“Ah you kids, never truly know what’s out there for us…you’ll see them whenever they visit here. You’ll get like a ring in your head, and any gift they leave for you you’ll be able to pick up and keep it.”

“What’s your name?”

“Felix, died 1976, leukemia at 17….you?”

“Christopher…died in 2020, in a car crash at 23.”

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thatrandomhomosexualfan · 3 years

Text

Day 2: Allium

Yes the first thing I thought about was fucking allium duo so here you go

10/2/21

“Hello Ranboo,” Ranboo heard Tommy call out his name as the stone he was mining crumbled to reveal the soft twinkle of diamonds. “What are you doing, king?”

“Oh, I’m falling in lava,” He said with (maybe) a hint of sarcasm.

“Haha, very funny. What are you really doing?”

“Falling in lava.”

“No, you’re fucking not.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’m watching you mine right now.”

Ranboo turned his head to find Tommy leaning against the wall of one of Ranboo’s many strip mines. His iconic red and white shirt was grimy and had a new hole in it and his hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in days. He had a small cut on his face and an annoyed expression to go with it. His shoes had some brown substance smeared on the bottom that Ranboo prayed was mud. He quickly decided to just go back to mining his diamonds.

“How many veins have you found?” Tommy asked.

“I don’t know. I think about 30 though.”

“About thirty or something! This is a very shit joke, Ranboo.”

“It’s not though. I win.” Ranboo pointed out. “By the way Tommy, why are you here?”

“I don’t know. I guess I came here to give you something. Here.” Tommy took an ender chest out of his inventory and pulled out a lumpy shape wrapped badly with blue paper that had the words “Happy Birthday” printed boldly with bubbly colors.

“It’s not even my birthday,” Ranboo mentioned.

“I had no other wrapping paper,” Tommy replied as he gave him the present. Ranboo delicately opened the package and was genuinely amazed at what he saw.

Inside was a surprisingly well knitted scarf with a red, white, and green stripe pattern. But what really made it special were the patches stitched into it. One was a blue patch with a letter stitched onto it, another was a yellow patch with a mushroom on it, but the one that stuck out the most was a pink patch with an allium on it. An allium.

“I didn’t know that you knew how to knit,” Ranboo said.

“I learned how to when I kept getting holes in my clothes and couldn’t fix them. I learned that no one was going to help me and Tubbo couldn’t knit to save his fucking life. Honestly, he would just make more holes. So I helped myself. To be honest king, I like being self-sufficient.”

“Oh, that’s cool.” Ranboo muttered as he tried on the scarf. It was comfortable and it fitted snugly on his neck. Thank god he lived in places that never go above 40 degrees. “Thank you Tommy.”

“No problem. You deserve it. Also I needed something to do anyway. Um… there’s this question that has been nagging me like one of those fucking mosquitos bites that itch like hell.”

“What is it?”

“How long have you been mining because you have found like 30 veins? Please get some sleep.”

“What do you mean? I've been mining for like two ho-”

“TWO FUCKING HOURS!” Tommy yelled in shock. “How the hell did you find 30ish veins of diamonds in two hours.”

“Well Techno says it’s main character energy but-”

“Oh fuck off. I’m leaving. I hear my girlfriend calling me.”

“You don’t have a girlfriend.”

Ranboo watched as Tommy flipped him off and swiftly left.

“Bye!” Ranboo called out. After a few seconds, he heard a distant “bye” from Tommy. He then continued strip mining and after a few seconds he was staring face to face with the familiar teal ore.

Ranboo smiled as he mined the eight vein. Maybe he does have “main character energy.”

#rantober 2021 #rantober #allium duo #ranboo #tommyinnit #moonlight writing tragedies #dream smp #yes its still oct 2 #fuck its twelve now noo #tw caps #tw cussing #does it still count if i wrote everything on oct 2 #hmm

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lunarmessenger · 3 years

Note

Hi!!!!!!!! I just love jealous RFA so what their (plus minor duo but only if it’s not too much) reaction would be if girl confessed and they thought it’d be for RFA but turns out it’s for MC? And I love your chibi drawings that’s so precious >~<

Ohho, aren’t you precious? I actually love this concept omg thank you so much for your request!! Sorry it took me a bit to get it written out ;;; - luna xx

warnings: none really? just a bit of jealousy and possessiveness haha

Zen:

• He’s literally so butt hurt

• He’s so used to admirers swarming the two of you to get his autograph or try to pine for his number

• While he gladly gives autographs for fans and even pictures, he always respectfully declined those who asked for his number

• He just loved seeing the slight tint of red on your cheeks when you got jealous and that’s why he wasn’t normally so forceful of telling other people no when they asked for his number

• Until one day you had went to go grab some water during one of Zen’s breaks at rehearsal

• One of his coworkers, a beautiful woman with long black hair and the perfect figure strolled up she reminded him a bit of Jumin honestly

• He was actually a little nervous to tell her no because he didn’t want to cause a scene but he would do it for you because he loves you

• So he begrudgingly held out his hand and she plops a piece of paper into it, a smirk on her face as he takes a deep breath

• “Look, I know that you and I work together but that doesn’t mean I’m available—”

• “Tell them that when they’re done with you, they should give me a call.”

• That’s when it clicks for him as he notices the way her dark eyes loom over your approaching figure, her tongue licking her lips as she winks at him then walks away

• He’s so infuriated that it hurts

• “Everything okay, Zen?”

• He rips the paper into so many pieces you didn’t even think that was possible

• “How about you go home, MC; I’ll tell you about it later.”

• You laughed for ages and teased him about it for weeks because, well

• “You’re not the only hot one in this relationship, Zen.”

Yoosung

• He’s always super bashful when girls in his class try to ask him out because he rarely finds himself attractive

• You were the same in a way; you were more confident than him, but still shy when people complimented you

• So while the two of you are on his campus, you holding flashcards in front of him to help him study

• You started to smile at a girl that approached the two of you, cheeks blazing pink as she stuttered over her words

• Her blue eyes were wide as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, looking as if she was taking deep breaths to calm herself

• “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’ve seen you both around for a while, and I just…well…”

• Yoosung turns just as pink, brows furrowing as he stutters over his words too

• “I appreciate it but I am taken!”

• For a moment the girl furrows her brows in confusion, adjusting the straps of her backpack as she tilts her head

• “Um…okay? Anyway, I think you’re really attractive and so; please accept my letter!”

• Both of your jaws drop as she kneels down and hands the letter towards you, hands trembling as you take it and nod

• “Aha, um…thank you?”

• She scurries off before you can even turn it over, and when you do you see your name written in beautiful penmanship surrounded by hearts

• Before you can even open it, Yoosung has snatched it out of your hands

• “Wha—Yoosung!”

• His purple eyes were clouded with anger as he rips it to shreds, an almost growl escaping his lips as he grunts

• “You’re mine. No need to read this letter when it’s gonna end up in the trash.”

• You couldn’t help but laugh at his possessiveness, tackling him in a hug and peppering his face with kisses as you shook your head.

• “What am I going to do with you?”

Jaehee

• She’s not the jealous type usually

• Like you can mention in passing that you were hit on and it won’t phase her a bit

• When it happens in front of her though? That’s a bit different;;;;

• Men tend to hit on the both of you often so that doesn’t phase her much but when it’s women?? Uh oh

• A really sweet woman was frequenting the bakery often; she would always get the same treat and the same drink, sitting at a table by the window

• She was quite pretty; short curly hair and tanned skin that had been specially kissed by the sun

• Jaehee was making the coffee for the next order when you’d gone to check on every table, stopping at hers and asking if she’d like another

• “No, thank you but…I was wondering. Would you like to go out for dinner some time?”

• Before you’d had a chance to respond you heard the sound of ceramic crashing, the mug Jaehee was holding now in pieces on the floor as she looked in your direction

• “Ah, while I’m flattered, I do have a girlfriend…;;;”

• The woman was understanding, putting two and two together as Jaehee rushed to pick up the mug and stomped into the back area

• “Jaehee! Jae, omg why are you so mad please—”

• “Because you’re my partner and how dare she think for a second that—”

• You interrupted her with a kiss and that shut her up quickly

• “You should be possessive more often. I actually like it…”

• “Shut up, MC.”

Jumin

• He has plenty of women in the business world that try to win his heart even though you’ve already done that lol

• So he’s actually quite surprised when you join him for a business meeting and he notices one of the women staring at you

• It’s so painfully obvious he’s actually offended that she isn’t hiding it

• She peers up at you through her bangs that frame her face, short hair styled perfectly as she leans back in her office chair

• Jumin couldn’t even focus and in minutes the meeting was over and she was instantly at your side

• “What?” He’s stunned, watching as she gently takes your hand in hers and kisses it

• “I’ve heard plenty about you, MC. While I’m sure Jumin appreciates you as a business asset, I would love to get to know you on a more personal level.”

• He is livid

• Before you can respond he’s wrapped an arm around you and snatched you away from her, a smirk on her face as he frowns at her

• “I’d appreciate if you let their hand go. We have business to tend to; at home. Come along, MC.”

• “Jumin oh—” He has you pressed so close to him that you can smell his cologne, your face flushed from embarrassment as she grins

• “It was nice meeting you!”

• Jumin scoffs as he escorts you out of the meeting room

• You’re shocked; he’s never lost control like that, not even when men would make passes at you during events or dinner parties

• “So, what was that?”

• “We will not be discussing this, MC. Now, would you like French, or Italian for lunch?”

• You grin as you get in the elevator with him, pressing a small kiss to his cheek

• “No matter what, Jumin. You’re the one for me.”

707

• He makes so many jokes about the women that fawn over him that he too his stunned when a woman confesses their love for you

• It was during an RFA party, and you’d worn a particularly flattering outfit that accentuated all the right places

• He was watching you from afar when he noticed a woman with equal beauty walk up to you, long blonde hair and brown eyes drinking you in as she slightly leaned against you

• “Oh, it looks like I’ve had too much to drink; maybe you’d like to take me home? I’ve been an admirer of yours for a while…”

• You’re so embarrassed that you don’t know what to say; a clutter of “ums” and “uhs” leaving your mouth as you tried to make sure she didn’t fall

• With you holding her up it gave her a chance to press against you even more so much so that you could feel and see most of her chest oh god Saeyoung help me

• “Oh~ I am also way too drunk and love showing off my boobs to make people like me!”

• You immediately drop the woman in shock when you see your boyfriend waltzing towards you in a dress, a long red wig swishing behind him as he lands on you

• It couldn’t be helped; you were laughing so hard that you nearly fell over, Saeyoung grinning as he sneered at the woman who looked at the two of you in confusion

• “Wait…what?”

• “Oh! I’m sorry miss um, but uh, this is my boyfriend—”

• “Who happily takes them home every night so if you’d please let us be that would be the most polite!” He says in a sing song voice, placing a hand on your chest as you snort

• You’d never seen a woman walk away so fast in your life

• “Good riddance…how classless.”

• “Saeyoung you literally put on a dress just to be petty.”

• “That’s different MC.”

• He receives admirers from all over who adore mainly his work; and it doubles when they realize how handsome the painter is

• During an exhibition he’d gathered a rather large crowd, mostly women which wasn’t surprising

• It didn’t bother you much; you trusted V, and he always made it clear that he was happy in his relationship with you to all of the women who tried to grow close to him

• You’d gone to a different section of the gallery to take a minute to yourself, staring at V’s painting of you that he’d done with a fond smile

• “While he is talented, he surely will never be able to capture the beauty of the real thing.”

• You turned your head in surprise to see a woman staring at you, red lips and sharp green eyes piercing as she held out a glass of champagne towards you

• “Oh, well um…thank you.”

• “Of course. I understand the appeal to him but…I like to think that his partner is much more enticing.”

• You couldn’t help but blush as you stared at your bubbling champagne

• Then, the familiar smell of lavender and cedar danced across your nose, your head turning to see V approaching

• “You’re absolutely right, miss. They are the most enticing, and that’s why I made them mine. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

• He plucks the champagne out of your hand and places it on the bench beside you, whisking you away while the woman pouts and hurries off

• “Um, V?”

• He hides the two of you in a dark hallway, closed off from the gallery as he presses you against the wall

• “I don’t know how you do this all the time MC; that was painful for me to see. Promise me that I’m the only one you’ll ever look at?”

• You giggle as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pressing your forehead against his as you whisper

• “I promise. She’s no match for you, my love.”

• He seals the promise with a kiss, savoring your taste as he breathes out

• “Let’s just stay like this for a little longer…”

Saeran

• He’s so shy already that when he receives confessions from women he literally shuts down

• It’s even worse when women confess their love to you like what???

• He understands because he’s knows that you’re beautiful and that you’re such an amazing person

• But you’re also his like excuse me?

• You’re enjoying your lunch in the park that you always take once a week

• You were sketching in your journal while he explained the different plants you were seeing; it was one of your favorite pass times to do before it got too late

• The two of you were unaware that your sketching and laughter had gained the attention of another, who was working up the courage to confess

• She’d finally gained said courage, walking up with a brand new journal as she cleared her throat

• “Um…excuse me?”

• You both turned your eyes towards her, freckles dotting her shy face as she handed the book to you

• “I always see you drawing and, well, you’re really good. So I wanted you to have this.”

• You were shocked; such kindness from a stranger. But this was a gift you couldn’t accept.

• “Oh, thank you so much! But I can’t accept this, really because—”

• “Because I am their boyfriend.” You didn’t expect him to speak up, head snapping towards him in surprise

• He wasn’t angry just more apologetic; he’d experienced the same fear of rejection when he was pursuing you and he knew that what she was feeling wasn’t good

• “Oh, I see. Okay. Well, I’ll leave you two alone then.”

• She walked away dejected while he reached for your hand

• “I think I’ve just experienced jealousy and I didn’t like it much.”

• You giggled, resting your head in his lap as you looked at him

• “You handled it graciously, darling. Let’s enjoy the sun then head home.”

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downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles · 3 years

Text

We Met Within This Screen (chapt. 5)

[Donnie x fem reader]

sfw, chapt. 4 here

Just as Donnie had predicted, the night air was cold on his scales. Right upon leaving, Mikey brought up to Leo going in pairs this time, to cover more ground, he said. An extra thorough patrol. Donnie honestly couldn't make up his mind and so by then he was flying by the seat of his pants, not objecting to Mikey's plan, but also not agreeing. He doubted Leo would be convinced, anyway. They didn't do duo patrols that often.

"I was thinking we could split up this time, you know, me and Donnie, you and Raph?" suggested Mikey, closing the manhole behind himself.

"I thought you liked it when we're all together," Leo commented.

Donnie shot Mikey a look, trying to tell him to cool it, but he shrugged, "Come on, it'll be like some kind of training or...something," Mikey went behind Leo and shook his shoulders, "aren't you into that?"

Internally, Donnie facepalmed. Unless he actively tried to stop this, it was going to happen, wasn't it? One way or another, probably; it all depended on how Leo was feeling that night. Raph was indifferent. He didn't care whether they were all together or in pairs, just that he got to flex his combat skills some. If he could, he'd go out and do it on his own, even.

Leo looked around, considering Mikey's suggestion. "Okay," he agreed, eventually. "You and Donnie take East, Raph and I will cover the usual route and then—"

"No," Mikey interjected. Both Leo and Raph's brows furrowed as they stared at their brother. He motioned toward Donnie, "Me and Donnie can take that, you guys just go on ahead," he smiled. "You know I like checking out the skatepark!"

"No skating," Leo said.

"I'll just watch whoever's there, then." He pouted.

Raph snorted. "Yeah, make sure he actually pays attention, Donnie."

"As usual," Donnie sighed, and looked at Leo.

"Well, what do you think, Don?"

The decision is up to me?

Turns out it was his all along, but he wanted to feign innocence in saying that Mikey was the one to drag him through it. Easier to not take responsibility and let life happen at you rather than making a conscious effort, at times.

"I guess we can do that," Donnie answered reluctantly. He could have said no. Why didn't he? In the corner of his eye, he saw Mikey beam, giving him a discreet thumbs up.

"Alright, meet back here by four AM, and if either of you run into big trouble, call. We'll come," Leo said. "Same for us."

"Yeah, we'll holler for ya," added Raph dismissively. "And nah, a big dog doesn't count as trouble, Mikey." He sounded gruff, but in actuality, he was still chuckling to himself over that years later. After they got over being annoyed that he had called them from that far while they were on a supply run. Chased by a junkyard dog—some of their least favorite parts about visiting those places.

"Hey, it was mean! And way fast!" Mikey protested as they parted ways, them taking to the East and red and blue the opposite way.

As per course, Donnie and Mikey took their normal route, and his heart skipped a beat when they met the scene of their last run-in with criminals. Not because of them, no, but because of the familiar apartment building that was now more intimidating than he'd expected. They circled the area like they normally would have, but Mikey came to stop them on a roof just opposite of the complex, eyes searching each window. Obscured by the height of the building, he sat on the edge.

Donnie didn't know what to do with himself. He stood back a good ten feet, somehow paranoid of being spotted even though he knew it was not possible from their angle in the complex. Mikey was comfortable, and weirdly at peace as he sat there quietly on the edge, assumed to be waiting for his brother to make a move. But Donnie was stuck in place.

"What are you waiting for, D?"

The sudden question broke him from his stillness. It was true; he didn't know what he was waiting for.

"I—I don't know what you want me to do, what are you thinking?" Donnie asked in return, stepping back a little further as he noticed movement behind the curtains of a lit window.

"Get your phone out and talk to her," Mikey told him, waving his hand at the apartments. "What did we come out here for if you aren't gonna make it right, bro? Do some smooth talk, tell her you're sorry and you wanna get to know her better…"

"This is absolutely a ridiculous plan," Donnie said, though as if his hands had thought of their own, they reached for his phone, and a moment later he was looking at the messages. Still nothing. Radio silence on both of their ends. How would he approach it? "I'm sorry I went from hot to cold so fast. Please talk to me again." Too strong. "Sorry, can we get a redo?" Too casual. "I'd like to apologise for being a jerk." Okay, that's just not good. Reconciling was going to be as difficult as he'd thought it would be.

Mikey came over and looked at his phone screen and his brother floundering, thumbs stuttering across the keyboard, deleting the text, retyping it over and over again for perfection where he wasn't going to find any–

"I got this, let Love Doctor Mikey handle it," he said, taking the phone right from Donnie's hand.

"You've never been in a relationship, not even talked to anyone, how would you—"

Mikey shushed him. Donnie was going to snatch the phone away but he spun around, draping himself over his shoulder. "Just let me work my magic, dude!"

Donnie couldn't watch; he had to turn away. How sure he was that Mikey was going to say something uncalled for, something weird or bone-headed, and the wait was killing him. What if she didn't even respond? Was that better than doing damage control for Mikey's shenanigans? For someone usually decisive, he could not for the life of him make up his mind about what he wanted at that very instance.

The phone vibrated.

Mikey cheered. "Got her on the line, now you just gotta reel 'em in," he grinned, handing the phone back to Donnie.

"Hey :/

I thought you wanted to stop?"

Mikey kept trying to lean over to catch a glimpse of the screen, but Donnie felt that it was a personal moment, so without skipping a beat, he activated the electric current in his staff and poked it behind him into his brother's plastron.

"Fine," Mikey whined. He stepped in one last time, "But don't hold out on me here!"

Trying to find an graceful way to patch this all up, Donnie replied:

"I apologise for that, and I know you probably want an explanation, but it's hard to explain

Moment of weakness?

I guess...

Anyway. I'm not expecting you to suddenly be cool with it, if you don't want to talk to me I understand

Sorry."

Mikey noticed Donnie's dismal expression and he mellowed out accordingly, standing close but not putting a hand on him, nor saying anything. He didn't watch the phone, but Donnie's face and slumped shoulders. He'd thought it would have been going better by now.

"I won't lie, I'm still confused

But if you're going through something, I'm right here for you

Don't worry about it. Just don't give me a spook like that again, I thought it was me

lol

Okay it's not funny but this is a little awkward"

Donnie's heart sank reading that. He'd made her feel bad, even question herself over his problem. Never had he wanted to make her think it was her that drove him off.

"No, no, it was never you

Again, I can't really explain…

Is it okay if we just try this again?

I understand if not."

"Jeez Bo, I already said it's alright

I WANT to keep talking to you, you're cool

So let's forget about it, yeah?

Friends again :) "

And like that, his heart took a leap. A smile slowly spread across his face, and without looking away from the screen, grabbed Mikey by the shell, pulling him toward. "Look at this!" he exclaimed.

"You see it too?" he quirked, pointing at the apartment complex across the road.

Donnie paused and looked over his shoulder at him, "What?"

On one of the balconies sat a lone girl, on her phone, and if Mikey looked hard enough, he could see a smile. Definitely a smile.

"Ah!" yelped Donnie quietly. He scurried back against the wall of the attached building behind him, as far as he could.

"Dude! Come on, this is perfect!" Mikey nudged him, and when he didn't hop up onto his feet, dragged his brother near the edge of the roof. Donnie was boneless but unwilling, his mind stuck on the fact that she thought he was cool. Him, cool. Was he? She didn't know even the half of it. She didn't know he was a martial artist, technically a genius, and that he'd gone against some of the worst the city had to offer. And without that, she still thought he was cool, as an average guy.

As average as what my circumstances will allow me to be.

Feet dragging all the way, Donnie's stomach did a flip as they met the ledge, peering carefully over it in a crouch. They were prone, watching the girl who was completely unaware of their presence. He was, simply put, enraptured, for a second there, studying her features as much as he could from where they were. The details of her face were not distinct due to the distance, but he could tell she was both nothing like he'd imagined and so much more. For once, he didn't immediately question the validity of the situation; there was no "it could be a coincidence", or "it's too unlikely that she would be out just as they were". Not right away. But it hit him when Mikey spoke.

"You're so lucky, D," he said wistfully. "Really." Head rested on his forearm, his gaze fell on not one thing, but the whole scene, a somber smile gracing him. He was excited, happy for his brother. But deep down, Donnie knew that though Mikey wasn't envious of him in a resentful way, it had to have stung to witness such a thing unfold for someone not himself. Their youngest had always craved connection the most. He looked away from the girl, "I wasn't gonna let you throw away an awesome chance, was I?"

Releasing a heavy breath, Donnie crawled away from the edge, but his eyes remained on that balcony. It was weird to watch someone who didn't know they were being watched. Not in that context.

"I...guess I may be," Donnie responded. But it would only get more complicated from there. His phone vibrated, breaking his trance, and the message he found read:

"Anyways, with that out of the way, what are you doing?"

Just watching you from a roof, nothing much, Donnie thought.

"Currently out enjoying the night"

"Isn't it kinda cold?"

"What about you?"

He knew what he meant, because he was there watching her as a chilled breeze rolled through, but she told him she wasn't doing anything. Only relaxing and talking to him.

It took him a few minutes to get his bearings. To know that he now had tangible evidence that she was a girl, an ordinary person, and that said person really thought he was cool. Worth the effort. He felt exceedingly difficult for not being able to give her a rightful explanation, but comforted by the fact that he wasn't being demanded of one. He felt light. Almost weightless, with Mikey next to him instead of his other cynical, skeptical brothers. For a moment, he had nothing to worry about.

From across the roof, he could still see the yawn escape her mouth. Probably an indicator that it was time to wrap things up. He didn't want her to stay up too late; it was already odd that she was up at such an hour, almost two AM, but glad nonetheless.

"Are you tired?"

"Yeah

I think I'm gonna hit the hay

So goodnight, Bo

Talk to you later (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞"

She got up, leaning on the railing which faced them.

"I want to stay up with you but—"

Donnie sucked in a sharp breath as she looked up, just barely able to see from underneath the balcony above her. He snagged the strap on Mikey's shell and yanked him back with him away from the edge of the roof, taking cover behind the wall.

"Shit," hissed Donnie, "do you think she saw us?"

These shells, they make us look so big!

"Relax, bro, even if she did, it was only a little bit. Besides, we could be anyone from this far, they don't have pigeon vision."

"You mean 'eagle vision'?"

"They're both birds!"

Donnie deadpanned and peeked over the wall. She'd gone in. Three minutes later, he hadn't gotten any texts yet about something weird on the rooftops, so he could finally relax, groaning lightly. "Too close," he breathed out, "Mikey, we need to go, Leo's going to notice we're not back in time if we don't hurry up and get the rest of this route done."

"Already on it," he whooped, vaulting onto the next roof.

As Donnie was scaling the wall of the attached building, he felt his phone vibrate, and curious, he checked it one last time before getting on his way.

"One question before I go

You ever see stuff you can't explain but even if you did you'd sound crazy?"

Oh, no.

"No, I don't."

Chapter 6

#donatello x reader #tmnt donnie #tmnt fanfiction #donnie x reader #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #tmnt bayverse #donatello #leonardo #raphael #michelangelo #fanfiction #leo #donnie #raph #mikey #tmnt

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emerald-amidst-gold · 3 years

Text

OC Interview: Fane Lavellan

Thank you for the tag @dungeons-and-dragon-age! I’ve been eyeing up this meme for a while actually, so this was perfect timing! X3

This takes place Post-Trespasser, about a month or two after, in fact. Solas brought the idea forward, and of course, Fane refused. But after some coaxing, some explanation as to why, and the promise of a whole cake, Fane agreed to humor the request.

*THERE BE BIG THINGS REGARDING FANE HERE*

I got carried awaaaaaay! XD

Introduction

Can you introduce yourself?

“I can, but it’s a lengthy list,” He sighs, “...Those who are close to me, who see as but an elf, call me Fane. Those who wish to meet cobble, call me Lavellan or Herald. Those who are blinded by reverence call me ‘He Who Flew Above’. Denizens of the Fade refer to me as, ‘Devotion’ or ‘Tenacity’. However, my true name is..” He sighs again, “...Aterian. I rarely go by it, but the truth won’t be ignored. It never can be.”

What is your gender identity, orientation and relationship status?

“Male. Elvhen. Dragon.” He huffs through his nose, shifting his gaze off to the side, “That’s all I’ll say on that. As for orientation, I’m...emotionally driven. If you asked me to look at another and tell you what’s attractive about them I would say, ‘Nothing.’ I don’t know them, so I feel nothing for them.“ He shrugs, turning his gaze back, but brandishes a glare, “There’s only one person who defies that response, and that’s because he knows me, without and within. More than that, is none of your business.”

Where and when were you born?

He lifts a hand, massaging a temple, “The ‘where’ is simple; Elvhenan. Specifics are lost to me, however, so you’ll have to be content with that response.” He shifts his gaze downwards, slowly crossing his arms, “As to when?” He sighs heavily, “...I have no answer for that other than: I’m roughly the same age, if not older, as Solas. Does it matter, honestly? Numbers fall through the cracks after a specific threshold is crossed.” What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

He unravels a crossed arm and guides his hand downwards, tapping the pommel of a sword he has fastened to his waist, “Sword. I use either long swords, short swords, or great swords.” He raises an eyebrow as a question is forwarded, “Shields?” He sneers a bit. “I don’t use shields. They get in the way, and anyways,” He raises his hand once more, the expanse steadily beginning to glow blue and silver before a spectral coating of scales cover the entirety, “this is better than any shield. I prefer the front lines, the place I can make sure no one breaches, and the lingering memory of what I once was makes sure I can do just that.” He dispels the scales and shakes out his hand before returning it to his crossed counterpart, “It takes energy to maintain, but I’m getting better at holding it for longer.” Lastly, are you happy?

He blinks before his entire expression softens, two toned eyes shining with primary gold as they shift downwards, “...If you had asked that of me over twelve years ago I would have spat in your face and said, ‘Happiness doesn’t exist in this world’. But now..” He trails off, casting a sidelong glance towards one of the fortress’s entryways; a familiar voice sounding, firm, but soft, as if reprimanding a child, “...I understand what happiness is, and it’s in every corner if you allow yourself to see it.” His eyes shift back, holding a far away look and voice coming forward in a murmur, “I only wish we all could be happy; together.”

Family and Friends

What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

His face holds a conflicted look, as if the memory is painful before speaking, “Complicated,” he says before beginning to tap a finger against his bicep, “I had a mother. She died when I was fifteen from a wasting disease, but she was the picture of serenity. Calm, guiding, measured. Hair like moonlight. Eyes like a clear autumn day. She was--” Unbranded features twist with a look of grief, eyes going dark as his voice drops, “...I’d rather not speak of her. It still hurts to. It hurts to speak of any of them,” His eyes narrow, grief stricken expression turning somewhat bitter, “...Especially those who throw all you did for them back into your face because they refused to listen when you needed them to most. Even so, I still wish for her happiness. Cullen better be treating her right,” That bitter turns outright malicious, dark eyes going darker as another question is meekly asked, “Father? I have no father. I only had a monster that haunted my childhood, tore my token of devotion apart, and then stalked me in my dreams. So, no. I have nothing to say about that concept.”

Have you ever ran away from home?

He chuckles, “Many, many times,” He throws most of his weight into one side, tilting his head back as if thinking, counting, “I can’t even remember the amount of times I fled into the forests, to be honest. All I know is that it happened weekly, maybe even daily,” He brings his head back, snowy hair moving with the action to brush the tops of his cheekbones, “Why do you look so surprised?” he asks, snorting a bit at the meek response of, ‘Why so often?’, “Because I refused to endure being treated like a beast every hour of the day merely because I believed differently, or rather, not at all.” He sighs within the next moment, “...I wasn’t any better than the Dalish, though. I lashed out, I spat in their face, dragged their heritage through the dirt, inflicted harm from the smallest of things...” He squeezes his arms, eyes narrowing into a glare, but seeming to see through everything, “...The past repeats. An infernal spiral that will never slow.” Would you consider marriage or having children?

“Marriage? Children?” He blinks, pale visage suddenly going flush before he snarls, “Why do I need to answer those questions?!” The blush deepens and he responds despite his displeased expression, muttering and biting the inside of his cheek, “...Damned keen eyed elves. They know, don’t they? I swear if Abelas fucking ran that mouth of his, I’ll--” He sighs heavily, letting his head fall limp a bit in defeat, “...Yes. To both. The latter is already taken care of, as everyone situated in the Crossroads knows, but...” Pointed ears are now a deep shade of red, “...marriage is...on hold. War time isn’t an ideal summer wedding.” His voice drops, eyes shimmering as if he was before the person his heart yearned for, “...The sky deserves a venue better than a garden of death and deceit.” Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

“There were those in the Inquisition who I didn’t exactly see eye to eye with,” he started before shaking his head, “but I didn’t hate anyone. Everyone is entitled to their own views and what they find important.” He scowls a bit, tapping his bicep once again with a finger, “...Even if they didn’t extend the same kindness to me in the beginning. ‘Do you believe in the Maker?’ ‘Do you believe you’re chosen?’ ‘You need to use the people’s faith. It gives them hope.’” He mocks before snorting harshly, “No. No, I don’t. Oh, that suddenly makes me trash? Ohhh. How terrible.” He scoffs. “Disgusting.” Which friend knows everything about you?

“Solas,” He says within a heart beat before clearing his throat, shifting his gaze away sheepishly, “He knows me without and within.” Emerald and gold blaze as the orbs go wide, the blush of roses coming back in full force, “Wait, wait, wait! I didn’t mean--! Fuck! You better wipe that shit eating grin off your face, elf, or I swear I’ll do it for you!” He growls in frustation, throwing his hands in the air, “Why did I agree to this? What fucking dragon entertains an interview!? This is worst than the courts in Arlathan used to be! And that’s saying something!”

Asked by Fans

Are you literate? Have you been to school?

”I am literate. Sometimes to a fault, in fact,” He smiles a bit, “Poetry is my niche; a lingering memory of my mother. So, I speak cryptically at times,” He snorts, amused, “Although, I guess that isn’t much of a surprise since the Elvhen language is riddled in verse rather than practical application. Still, even some of the ancients left have a hard time deciphering my words,” He shrugs, smile turning into a smirk, “They never expected a dragon to be able to talk, I guess. Well, ta-dah.” The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

A somber expression flits across his visage and eyes, “...That, eventually, I would hurt the one person I never wanted to.” The corner of his mouth twitches, holding both bitterness and grief; a painful duo, “...And retribution came just as swiftly, but it--” He sighs, shaking his head in defeat before muttering under his breath, “Observe and accept. Observe that what came to pass was uncontrollable, and accept that it had to happen for your path to continue, for your soul to be complete.” What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?

His face blanks, mouth going into a hard line before a sigh exits through his nose slowly, “...That I don’t have tail.” He snarls, blank expression twisting in warning, “Laugh, elf. Do it.” He nods in the next second when no sounds of amusement come forth, expression going stoic once more, “That’s what I thought. You try living centuries in one form and then transitioning. See what happens.” Do you have mental health or physical issues?

He nods, sighing tiredly. “Like my names, I have a lot.” A hand motions to his body lazily, “My entire body is littered in scars, inflicted through crude experiments by an abomination that sought power like so many others,” He expression sours, jaw working back a forth, “They’ve calmed over the years, but the memories are not so kind.” He sighs, trying to calm himself and lifts his left hand; the Anchor glowing faintly and his eyes watch it, “I have an illness, or rather, sensitivity to any Fade born essence. That, too, has calmed and I’m grateful for that. As for my mind..” He trails off, grimacing a bit as if suddenly in pain, “...Visualize the Void, and there’s your answer. Black walls with crimson torches, seats empty, but somehow wanting for memories to take their seats. However, those occupants never come, burnt to ash by fury’s flame. That’s my mind in a nutshell.” What is your current main goal?

He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips, “Mm, as of right now, I’m busy helping Solas unlock the eluvians that he couldn’t while I was away,” He flexes his marked hand, watching it with a look of determination in his eyes, “That’ll take time, but after, my people, my kin will have their skies back. I won’t let this power be squandered, and I won’t let the key that I’ve been entrusted with fall into the wrong hands.” His face hardens further, “For if that key rusts, the locks break and the sky will blacken as surely as the earth will redden.”

Choices

Drink or food?

“Drinks.” He says with ease, shrugging, “Food is comforting, especially sweets, but a glass of rum or ale, or a cup of chamomile tea really pounds the word ‘relaxation’ into my head.” Cats or dogs?

He smiles, warmth caressing its edges, “You’ve seen Nislean wandering about the halls, laying on the window sills and curling up in front of the fire,” He hums suddenly, crossing his arms again, “Which reminds me, I need to go out of the Crossroads for milk. I’ll be getting more than five bottles this time.” Optimist or pessimist?

“Depends on who you ask,” He shrugs, seeming unbothered, “I’m neither from a personal standpoint. I try to see the bright spots, but shadows can be very persistent.” Sassy or sarcastic?

He snorts, “Ask Fen’harel,” his voice is light upon the title, playfully mocking in its deepness, “He knows all about that side. Although, he would label it, ‘insufferable’. I would call myself dryly sarcastic, though.”

Have You Ever

Been caught sneaking out?

He purses his lips, “Hmm. Not that I can recall,” he says slowly before his brows jumped and his eyes lit up with memory, “Oh! Wait. There was that one time where I was with Solas and Mythal in a...courtyard, I think?” He shrugs before shrugging, “Doesn’t matter. But, I tried to slip away, tail and all, and I...may have shattered one or two or three eluvians trying to get to the balcony.” He somewhat wistfully, smirking, “Elgar’nan got fucking stuck in a far off settlement for a week, though. Completely worth getting my horn chewed off by a wolf.” Broken a bone?

“Surprisingly, no.” He huffs in amusement, “Wonder of wonders, truthfully.” Received flowers?

“I have,” He scowls, rolling his eyes and shaking his head in disgust, “but I always throw them into the fire. Most are from suitors, those who don’t know what the fuck ‘taken’ means.” Ghosted someone?

His face tightens, completely deadpan, “...No?”, he says, voice raising in question a bit, “At least I don’t believe so. But, then again...oh.” He blanks further, “...Oh. I understand the term now. You mortals are forever twisting the languages, aren’t you? I can’t keep up, but the answer is still no.” Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

“Maybe once or twice, but I don’t ‘laugh’ per say.” He huffs through his nose deliberately, “I do that; a puff of air. Some habits are never truly able to be broken. No matter the form.”

Tagging: @oxygenforthewicked @blueheaded @little-lightning-lavellan @noire-pandora @the-dreadful-canine and anyone else that’d like to play! (no pressure, of course!)

#oc: fane lavellan #welcome to the future! :3 #where fane is more complete and content but suffering in different ways #no one said the path would be easy *shakes head sadly*#again. fane is...a ball of many things and his titles and names show that XD #*thinks about writing post-trepasser shenanigans* :3 #fane used to fuck off elgar'nan as a dragon so HARD #maybe why the god vengeance decided to personally attack him #HMMMM.#dragon age #male lavellan

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