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#like adaptations are cool and they CAN work sometimes but if you’re going to have to break and bend the world in order to make it to the
maxgicalgirl · 8 months
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Archive 81 tv show made Melody Pendras straight we cannot trust podcasts in the hands of mainstream media !!!!!!!
#archive 81#I have mixed feelings about it and as soon as they introduced Gal Pal Annabelle to replace Actual Girlfriend Alexa it should have been a#red flag#conceptually I really liked what they did to flesh out the first season#but they took it in a completely different direction by the end and at that point it’s not even the same thing anymore 🙄#like you can’t even pick up anything from the original’s season 2 because they reconstructed the narrative so much#idk man its not like they’re going to make any more of it anyways but I still felt the need to come on here and bitch#honestly main stream adaptations of podcasts scare me like I revel in exposure for things I like but ultimately so much gets lost in#translation#like archive 81 podcast is weird and nonsensical at times and Tape Recorder Man’s adventures in the Upside Down just don’t translate to a#general audience ? so they gotta bring in reasons for it to make sense like satanism and witches and demons#when that was sooooooo not the point of the original#like seeing how much they had to adjust to appeal to an outside audience makes me almost glad the wtnv tv show didn’t get green lit#can you imagine ???? how the fuck would they get five headed dragon Hiram McDaniel on my actual television ????#standing next to a Cecil Palmer with a canon appearance no less#like adaptations are cool and they CAN work sometimes but if you’re going to have to break and bend the world in order to make it to the#point where it’s a new thing entirely#ESPECIALLY since we live in a world where audio drama is not respected as a creative medium#at that point I’m just like leave it alone it’s fine on it’s own#anyways archive 81 is an interesting experiment into what live action podcast adaptations COULD look like but you can pry lesbian Melody#Pendras from my cold dead hands and that makes the adaptation automatically inferior imo#I guess she could be bi but when you remove Canon Girlfriend and instead make her kiss a man ? not likely#I am just talking to hear myself talk now goodbye#max rambles in the tags
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physalian · 2 months
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What No one Tells You about Writing Fantasy, #2!
I did this list about 7 annoyances about fantasy, but I write in this genre for a reason! Fantasy knows no bounds, it can encompass all other genres within it. You can write a fantastical murder mystery, fantasy horror, fantasy romance, political drama, slice-of-life, comedy, whatever you’d like!
Whether it’s urban or high fantasy, supernatural or scientific, here’s seven great benefits of writing in this genre:
1. No modern means of communication
Unless you’re writing a world with phones or phone-adjacent devices. Phones and instant communication seriously inhibits the plausibility of dramatic irony and tension when you have to keep coming up with reasons to keep your characters from calling or texting each other everything they know. It’s exhausting, I tell you, and such a relief when phones aren’t a factor.
With that said, without phones, you have complete freedom to design your own magical channels of supernatural FaceTime, as weird and zany as you want. But without instant connections? Your character who knew too much can’t pass on the intel before they die. Your hero team can’t call for backup in their darkest hour. Otherwise easily preventable tragedies and deadly miscommunications are now very real.
2. The Monster Allegory
Fantasy and sci-fi tend to overlap more than they’re set apart, and in that overlap sits the monster allegory. Everything from werewolves to vampires to witches, reapers, demons, angels, goblins, trolls, wraiths, fairies, mermaids, ghosts, to Eldritch horrors and your classic Hollywood cast of mummies, creatures from the black lagoon, and Frankenstein.
Most of the time, the monsters aren’t just monsters, they represent a monstrous aspect of society the author wants to challenge and caricaturize in a fun and entertaining way. Or, the monsters are the good guys and the humans are the real terrors. Or, you’ve got two kinds of monsters to allegory two human sides. Sometimes they represent metaphorical demons, like vampires often representing addiction and werewolves repressed identities.
What all of this boils down to is the hyperbolic nature of science fantasy that allows you to go over-the-top with your metaphor and allegory in a way that a book grounded in reality just can’t.
3. Magic Systems!
Do you love world building? Do you love filling pages upon pages with your cool and unique set of superpowers you want your characters to have? Do you dream about your fight scenes and dramatic slow-mo shots?
Then Fantasy is for you!
There are zero limits to how you want to define your magic system. You can go classic with the familiar archetypes of elemental magic, wizards, sorcerers, and witches. Or you can step off the beaten path and design a whole new funky system of power sets. Best part? Your readers will have an awesome time imagining themselves with those powers, and debating endlessly about how it works.
4. Real-World Politics, who?
Amazon’s Rings of Power was twice-doomed when they only got the rights to adapt the appendices of The Silmarillion and when they decided to inject current political problems into a timeless story written purposefully to be divorced from those politics. You *can* write about human politics, but in fantasy, you don’t have to. You *can* interpret Lord of the Rings to be an allegory about the World Wars, but no matter how hard you argue, it wasn’t written with that intent.
Which means: Even if your story is set in the reality-adjacent fantasy version of 1543, you are free from the following: Racism, homophobia, sexism, religious bigotry, mental health bigotry, gender norms, anti-feminism, toxic masculinity, and more. “But that’s how it was-”
Nope. This is fantasy. You built this world, you decided to keep in the discrimination. Or… You can fill your fantasy world with a rainbow of gays, POCs in power, women in power, men unafraid to be compassionate and caring, a religion that doesn’t foster hate and division, the list goes on. You. Are. Free.
5. Nothing is too “unrealistic”
Both that you will always have people whining about how X would never happen so write the book you want to read, but also because fantasy is fake. Fairies aren’t real. Mermaids aren’t real. There are no rules for how they must be written and that’s how we have so much variety with so much room for interpretation by so many creators. Twilight made how much money writing about vampires that sparkle like diamonds in sunlight and crack like marble?
This is fantasy, it’s supposed to be unrealistic. Yes, your plot should make sense, but don’t be afraid to get weird. Write at least some of your story dependant on those fantasy elements. Write a story that can’t just be told in the real world minus the spectacle. Don’t be afraid to be sincerely fantastical and weird. People love weird. People love loving weird.
6. You are in complete control
But you do still need to research, unfortunately. Unless this is urban fantasy that depends at least a little on the human world, yours is completely your own to govern like a god tweezing weeds from their garden. You get to design your own geography and weather patterns and seasons. Your own countries and kingdoms and politicians. Your epic pre-canon fantasy war and the stakes that it was fought over. Your species, races, and ethnicities.
It’s a shame that a movie like Avatar (2009) set out to be this wholly unique take on aliens with music completely divorced from earthly bonds, new languages and a visually and culturally distinct alien species… and ended up a largely generic blue Pocahontas in space. It forgot that it was fantasy and didn’t go weird enough. They have horses, monkeys, wolves, rhinos, and deer just re-skinned with some extra limbs and colors. It’s pretty but it’s so, so shallow.
It could have become a cult classic like many a positively *weird* 80s off-beat fantasies, and now it just… exists. It makes a whole lot of money but its impact on the cultural zeitgeist is negligible. I’m the only person I know that can name every major character in the movie, and I’m no Avatar obsessor. They had complete creative control, and this is what they did with it. Don’t be Avatar. Take your creative freedom and run.
7. Even if it has been done before, do it again
You can say this about any genre, particularly romance, but fantasy and sci-fi, by the gatekeep-y nature of their fans, can be a lot less forgiving when it comes to claims of “unoriginality”. No one hates Star Wars more than Star Wars fans. Fans of these genres can get… concerningly attached to their favorite stories (mostly because the people who like them had only their fictional heroes to protect them from very real bullies).
But Game of Thrones exists because the author likes Lord of the Rings and went “yes, but what if it was an R-rated parade of misery?” Dungeons and Dragons exists because people wanted to roleplay in an LotR-esque world. Legolas and Gimli single-handedly defined what a badass elf and dwarf looks like in high fantasy. And people still gobble up media ripping shamelessly, or even good-naturedly, from this one story.
So on my other list, I argued that the sum of your parts is still original, even if the components aren’t. On this list, I implore you this: It’s not stealing or appropriating to write another Legolas if you love Legolas. Everyone loves Legolas. How many generic buff action heroes do we have and love? How many Hallmark romances tread the same predictable path? Who gives a damn if it’s unoriginal? Just make it entertaining and have something fresh to say in the end (or don’t, that’s fine too), and people will read it.
And when people say “Oh, you mean like Legolas”, take it as a compliment, not an insult. Yes, exactly like Legolas. Here’s my new elf because I adore this other book, now watch him go on a new adventure that I wrote for him.
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Language Barriers
same anon as like 5 minutes ago, I remembered the fluffy prompt! Could you write a Sanders Sides DLAMPR fic (before they get together) where all of the Sides have different love languages? And they’re all trying to flirt in their own way, but the others keep misinterpreting it? A lot of TSS fic features the Sides having different love languages (and I’d like to think they do, in canon), but I’ve yet to see a fic that specifically focuses on that fact and describes the differences between love languages. Feel free to ignore, and remember to take care of yourself! – anon
hey I love love love love LOVE your writing! If you’re open to prompts rn, I’ve just reread your story "Idiots, Idiots, Everywhere" and it’s awesome, thanks very much, BUT. Are you willing to write a Sanders Sides fic where it focuses more specifically on all the Sides having different love languages? Bonus points if it’s DLAMPR (but platonic PR, this is an incest-free household) and all the Sides are like “…but he’s like this with everyone”. No pressure at ALL, but it’d be cool to see how you approach that. – anon
Read on Ao3
Warnings: none
Pairings: dlampr
Word Count: 3431
Or, five times the Sides misunderstood each other's love languages, and one time Thomas got fed up with it and decided to just...explain it to them with the efficiency they have when they're trying to explain something to him. Which is to say: it takes them a second to get it. The Imagination helps.
Physical Touch
If you were to ask anyone, they would tell you that Patton loves giving people hugs.
It’s the bane of some of their existences, they’d try to claim, and the others might just shrug and say that’s Patton for you. He knows his kiddos love it, at least a little bit. But he won’t lie, he does love a good hug. There’s just something so magical about how, out of all the shapes humans could have possibly been, they’re just perfectly designed to hold one another. Isn’t that just perfect?
Logan would probably say something about evolution and adaptation to the needs of their environment, or something, but he’s not gonna rain on Patton’s parade. Humans are hug-shaped, so they’re gonna hug. Besides, he’s not complaining when he’s working downstairs in the winter and he’s gotten too absorbed in his work and then a Patton-shaped heating pad just comes along and hugs him.
Patton loves hugging all of the Sides. Logan because he’s always so surprised by it, in a good way! He gets this soft little look that is almost on the edge of a smile, like he wasn’t expecting it but it’s the best possible outcome he never could have predicted. Or when he’s trying to comfort Patton and he hugs with undeniable certainty.
Virgil is also fun to hug, because he’s such a pouty-face about it. He snuggles up as much as any of them but he has to put on his mopey show first, just in case anyone’s watching. Virgil also gives the mopey hugs too, but then he makes himself just a bit bigger so he can wrap all the way around Patton. Which is the best.
Speaking of wrapping all the way around, Janus has six arms and he uses every single one of them. They get into competitions sometimes—not serious! It’s all for fun!—about who can surprise-hug each other the worst. Or best. Janus is currently winning from the time he managed to make himself look like the chair in the living room with a blanket over it; Patton sat down and boo!
Remus isn’t allowed to do surprise hugs, not after he accidentally tackled Patton into his Kraken’s pond and they had to spend the rest of the afternoon trying to get out of the pond. But Remus’s hugs are the kind that squish his soul right back into his body and ugh, there’s nothing better than that after a long day. Besides, it’s not like expecting Remus’s hugs takes anything away, he’s still going to squeeze him so hard he might not be able to breathe for a few seconds, but that’s Remus!
And then with Roman—Roman hugs the way every single knight from a fairytale should hug. He just makes you feel safe and precious and like nothing in the world could hurt you. It’s why Patton always sits next to Roman during scary movie nights, after all, even if he gets teased about it a little. Roman doesn’t mind.
So yes, Patton does love hugging all of them. But it doesn’t have to be hugging! It can be holding hands, or just leaning against each other, just as long as he can feel them and tell himself yes, they’re okay, they’re right here, I love them.
Because he does. He loves them terribly. Even if they think he’s just a big fan of hugs.
***
2. Quality Time
Virgil has the reputation of being the cat of the Mindscape for good reason. Not because he hisses at things that don’t cooperate—the other Sides are not excluded from this—and not because he spits up hairballs—it was one time, Remus, and it was entirely your fault—but because he has a habit of just appearing in the same room and hanging out for a while.
…alright, it’s not a habit, he does it on purpose.
Companionable silence really is the best way to go about things. You’re both close enough to talk if you want to, but each of them is allowed to do their own thing and hey, there’s another person doing their own thing too. Which is why it’s his favorite way of hanging out with Logan, especially when he needs to make sure that something gets done. He’s always down to affectionately bully Logan into whatever he asks him to make sure he does.
He does that with Remus too, but it’s not exactly the same: Remus needs someone to make sure he doesn’t actually destroy anything, and he’s more than happy to oblige. Especially since he likes to get a bit of a heads-up before a rampaging beast goes barreling through the kitchen at some ungodly hour of the morning.
If he’s never beating the cat allegations, Janus sure as hell isn’t helping. There’s a big window in the Dark Sides’ half of the Mindscape that is perfect for lying in for, oh, a few hours on end. Remus has many—too many, if you ask Virgil—pictures of the two of them just basking in the sun, dozing like they haven’t got a care in the world.
Virgil’s actual favorite place to sleep is with his head in Patton’s lap. Especially after he’s just finished baking, when he’s all warm from the oven and he smells like sugar and spice…Virgil will sit on the counter or the floor and listen to Patton talk about whatever he wants and then while the oven bakes, he’ll fall asleep right in Patton’s lap. He even gets first dibs on whatever just got made.
Roman makes a game of it. He’s the Prince, every good Prince needs a rogue to work with. They trek all over the Imagination, having adventures, defeating monsters, it’s the perfect mix of Roman’s quests and Virgil’s need to be a creepy little shit in every dark corner he can find. Being with Roman even makes boring council meetings fun, because he gets to terrify the idiots that they’re just gonna fight later anyway and he gets to spend time with Roman.
He doesn’t care what he’s doing, not really, just as long as he can spend time with them. He just…wishes they would understand that sometimes.
***
3. Words of Affirmation
Logan is no stranger to impostor syndrome, but that doesn’t mean he has to allow it to plague those he cares for. Understanding something to be true on an intellectual level and feeling the validation that comes from hearing someone else voice it are two very different things. The other Sides are each remarkable in their own right. They deserve to hear it.
Patton is kind. He does not say that lightly: kind people who choose to be kind because they know how difficult it is are not individuals to be trifled with. Patton makes the conscious choice to try and be better every single day. He is earnest and sincere, sometimes painfully so, but he does not allow himself to be dissuaded by obstacles. How could Logan not want to express his admiration?
And Roman…oh, Roman is a wonder. There is so much that goes into his work that often goes unnoticed, or underappreciated, and it is a crime that Logan too often finds himself on the wrong side of that line. Roman is clever and funny and has a work ethic that, truly, rivals Logan’s own. For every slight he makes, however unintentional, he tries his best to make up for it by telling Roman in no uncertain terms how honored Logan is to be part of his creative process.
Remus is an entirely different story, no pun intended. Remus is unabashedly and unapologetically himself, and as such is a marvel to behold. He cares not for the sanitization or reduction of anything in his work, and so Logan does his best to follow suit. Remus is who he is, and it is beautiful.
He tells Janus he’s beautiful too. And not once is he lying. The first time he did it, Janus laughed in his face, at least until he realized Logan was telling the truth. He then didn’t see Janus for an entire week. It ended when a little snake plushie appeared outside of his door in the middle of the night with a tiny note that just said thank you. He tells Janus he’s beautiful every chance he gets now.
Virgil is his little alley cat. Perfectly fine to approach on his terms, but will let him know with no uncertainties when he’s getting a little too close. It doesn’t help that Virgil is quite fun to tease, even if all he’s doing is giving him compliments—true compliments, mind you—and watching in amusement as Virgil curls up into a ball with his hood pulled down over his ears as if that could hide how red they are. He’s not cruel about it, of course; he stops the moment Virgil appears genuinely uncomfortable and there are certain topics he doesn’t go near. But Virgil can’t always hide his little grin and so on it goes.
He’s quite happy to shower them with his words, he just…doesn’t know if they’d believe him if he said I love you.
***
4. Acts of Service
Words are difficult. There is so much ambiguity to be found in even the most basic of sentences, and when it comes to matters like this, Janus prefers to take as few chances as possible. Whoever coined the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words,’ Janus definitely owes a drink for how spot-on it is.
Whenever Patton needs a hand in the kitchen, he’s always the first to volunteer. He can do up to three things in the time it would take another Side to do just one, after all, and he’s had enough experience cooking for the troublemakers (Virgil and Remus) to know how to get around most of their pranks. And how to get them back.
Logan, bless him, has a tendency to overwork himself at the best of times. And in doing so, he gets these terrible knots and cramps in his neck and shoulders from hunching over his desk for hours on end. It might not be the most polite of things to practically blackmail his way into giving Logan a massage, but the poor dear always falls right to sleep so he mustn’t mind too much.
Remus and his delightful menagerie of creatures often need more than their fair share of attention. He had to pester Remus into getting him a raincoat and muck boots that could withstand the acidic slime, but weekend mornings found them strolling cheerfully through pens and cages and paddocks, tending to the bizarre flock. Anything to make the chore more of a fun activity and less of, well, a chore, when Remus really doesn’t suit stressed-out frowns as well as manic grins.
Virgil has a terrible habit of not asking for reassurance when he needs it. Janus regrets the part he played in making it that way. So, no matter how small and stupid Virgil may think it is, whenever he asks for help, Janus gives it. A tug on his cloak or a soft please will have him do anything from turn the light in the hallway on to checking the poor thing over for wounds after a brutal nightmare. It took long enough for Janus to re-earn that trust, he’s not going to lose it if he can damn well help it.
Out of everyone in the Mindscape, only Roman truly appreciates his love of theater. Sure, the others are game to help out here and there, but when it comes to the art of make-believe, Roman is the proud owner of Janus’s ‘yes-and’ partnership. The two of them make all sorts of stories together, from villains and heroes to morally grey adventurers, to simple fairytales and old plays. Roman needs someone else to help him play the roles and Janus is more than happy to play with him.
Perhaps one day, he might be able to reveal that everything he does for them, he does because it’s them, but for now, he’ll happily play the role they expect of him.
***
5. Gifts
Roman and Remus do not, in fact, fight over who gets to give the most presents to the other Sides.
Instead, they fight over whose idea they work on first.
For Logan, Remus’s self-writing pen narrowly won out over Roman’s proposal for a never-ending notebook, if only because said pen squirted ink into Roman’s mouth before he could finish his argument. They ended up giving both to Logan at the same time, but the pen was decidedly on top and did its own little celebratory wriggle when Logan used it for the first time.
Remus nearly challenged Roman to a formal duel when it came to designing a heat lamp for Janus that wouldn’t run the same risk of burning out the electricity in their section of the Mindscape. They managed to agree on everything up to the design on the lampshade. Roman said it should be a yellow snake, curled up and sleeping, and Remus wanted it to be a big leaf that Janus could lay under like he was actually outside. The compromise was eventually reached over many hours of almost bloodshed and now the sleeping snake under a leaf is a staple in the corner of Janus’s room.
Roman cleverly proposed Virgil’s weighted blanket while Remus was being crushed under said blanket, leaving not a lot of wiggle room until he had to agree. Of course, he promptly fell asleep and cuddled Roman into a pile of goo, so technically they made both the blanket and the plushie at around the same time. Virgil still brings the little skeleton to movie nights.
Patton gets their presents one after the other, because you need one to understand the other’s context. A rebreather designed to slip on over the person’s face just like any other face mask, to filter out particulates and allergens. Something that could be worn for up to two consecutive hours before it needed to be recharged.
The other present was a box full of kittens.
”Ro?”
“Yeah?”
Remus pushes his goggles to the top of his head and looks over the desk. “Do you think they’ll ever get it?”
Roman sighs, closing his notebook and leaning back to stretch. “I don’t know, Re. I love them, really, they just…”
”Don’t realize.”
“Yeah. It’s okay, though. We’ll get there eventually.”
“Of course we will. Hand me that wrench, would you?”
“The one that’s covered in guts, or the one that’s made out of foam?”
“The foam one. I need to whack this thing but I don’t wanna hit it too hard.”
“I’m not gonna ask any more questions.”
***
+1: I Love You
”Hey!” Patton rises up first, clapping his hands. “Oh. I’m the only one here.”
“Only by a moment,” Logan says as he joins him. “Is Thomas here?”
“No, I just got summoned by—well, I thought it was Thomas but he’s not here.”
“Whoa, hey!” Virgil appears on the staircase. “What’s going on? I was in the middle of watching someone.”
“Don’t you mean ‘something?’” Remus appears, covered in slime and cackling. “Ah. I see.”
“I’ve got it,” Roman says, rising up and spraying his brother with something that somehow manages to dissolve all the goo without staining or spraying anything else. “There. Now maybe you’ll think twice about surprising Uma when she’s feeding?”
“Oh, I’m gonna do this so many more times!”
”I felt the exasperation from my room,” Janus sighs, appearing, “what’s Remus done now?”
“Why did you assume it was Remus?” Janus just looks at Logan. “Fair enough.”
”Now that we’re all here, what is this about?” He looks around, frowning. “Where’s Thomas?”
“That’s weird, is he not the one who called for a meeting?”
“What’s that?” Virgil reaches out and picks up a piece of paper from the coffee table. “‘Each one of you needs a card, find the matches.’ What cards?”
“Here.” Logan picks up something that fell when Virgil picked up the paper. “There are only five of them, though, and six of us.”
“What do they say?”
“Let me see…one says ‘Physical Touch,’ one says ‘Acts of Service,’ one says…oh, I see.”
“I don’t,” Patton says, “can you share with the class?”
“Wait, wait, I think I know what this is, is one of them ‘Quality Company’ or something?”
“‘Quality Time,’ yes.”
Roman nods. “It’s the Five Love Languages.”
“Thomas doesn’t even speak Spanish!”
“No, no, Padre, not literal languages, it’s…it’s the ways you express your affection for someone. How you tell them you love them. There’s five: physical touch, acts of service, quality time…”
“‘Words of Affirmation,’” Logan continues, reading off the other cards, “and ‘Gifts.’”
Virgil hunches his shoulders. “So what, are we supposed to pick one?”
“I believe the intention of the exercise is to…select which one is our love language.”
Janus huffs. “Why? What does Thomas have to gain from doing something like this? And where is he?”
“Maybe he’s not the one who summoned us.”
“Well then who did?”
“Maybe if we do the thing we can find out.”
Janus sighs, peering over Logan’s shoulder and squinting. “I guess this one’s mine, then.”
“‘Acts of Service?’ Very well. I suppose I’ll take ‘Words of Affirmation.’”
“Can I have the touch one?”
“Certainly.”
“Twins get ‘Gifts,’ obviously,” Virgil mutters, “which means I get the…time one, or whatever.”
Logan hands out the last two cards and they stand there for a moment, waiting for something to happen.
Nothing does.
Patton looks back down at his card. “Wait, did you say these are how we tell people we love them?”
“That is a simple definition of this, why?”
“Because you guys do these with everyone!”
There’s a pause. Logan adjusts his glasses. “Well, I can’t speak for everyone, but…yes, I do indeed give you all words of affirmation, because, well…”
“Aww,” Virgil says, “do you love us, Logan?”
Logan coughs, blushes, and adjusts his tie. “I believe that is a logical conclusion, yes.”
“Aww!” Patton squeals. “I love you guys too!”
”So whoever set this up knew that we were all trying to tell each other that—“ Roman starts.
“—and needed to hammer it into our heads what was happening,” Remus finishes.
“Well,” Janus sniffs, even as a smile threatens the corners of his mouth, “how dramatic.”
Virgil tugs on the strings of his hoodie. “Yeah. How dramatic.”
There’s another pause.
Roman coughs. “Uh, this seems like a good a time as any, um…Remus and I put together a festival thing in the Imagination for everyone, if you want to…if you want to come and see it.”
“It has everyone’s favorite state fair stuff,” Remus sands, “and there’s supposed to be a northern-lights kind of thing after it gets dark.”
“Can we cuddle?”
“Of course.”
“Will there be food?”
“Your favorite, shadow-ling.”
“You two are so thoughtful,” Logan says softly, “I would love to come.”
“I can get the good blankets from the closet,” Janus offers, and everyone grins, “should we meet there in ten?”
“Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”
The Imagination is just happy they finally sorted it out. Now, to give the six of them a group date they’ll never forget…
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sxtvrns · 1 year
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to reunite and resolve
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🎶 now playing: don’t grow up too fast - grentperez
P: Connor Murphy x Fem!Reader
S: You were the one of the only people he called a friend. He wanted to call you more than that.
W: mentions of drug use, smoking, anxiety, cursing, sexual content, spoilers, short
N: Basing this off of Mike Faist’s Connor Murphy, because his version of Connor the one I envisioned while writing this. Some information is taken from the book adaptation of the musical. In the book, Connor explains that he is some form of LGBTQ+, yet it is never specified; hints of this are being used in this fic. this is super short and kinda shit LMAO
please interact if you enjoy!
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When he first threw that printer in second grade, you were the first thing he saw out of the corner of his eye. Everyone… well, almost everyone, looked at him in horror, screams so loud they could be heard from down the hall, besides Jared Kleinman, who said that the whole facade was so cool.
Some kids ran, some kids took cover, but you stood there with your mouth hanging open, gaze switching between Mrs. G and Connor. And to think the only reason for this was because he didn’t get to be line leader that day.
He couldn’t tell what you thought of him after that. There wasn’t a single thought behind your face that could determine whether you thought he was cool or you thought he was insane. But he resorted to the worst— you thinking he was a crazy maniac who had a breakdown only because he didn’t get what he wanted that day.
But no, that wasn’t the case. He sat down under a tree during recess one day, and you just so happened to be lurking on the other side of it. You peeked out, looking at the book he was reading. “Is that The Little Prince?” You ask, startling him. “Yeah. Why?”
“It was a bit sad, but I liked it. Which part are you on?”
“The part where he dies.”
Awkward.
“I’ve read this book 5 times.”
“So it’s your favourite?” He shrugs. “One of them.” You sit down next to him, eyes skimming over the words on the page. “I don’t like Mrs. G very much. She always finds something wrong in my work and points it out to the class,” you start, staring at Mrs. G who’s talking to a teacher far across the playground. “I don’t think you should do it again, but I thought that was cool.”
“What was cool?”
“When you threw that printer. Was it heavy?” He shakes his head. “You’re strong! That’s even cooler!”
He shuts his book with a quiet thump. “Shouldn’t you be talking to Lily over there? Or… Jane?” You shrug. “I don’t really have a group of friends. I talk to them and we’re friendly with each other, but… they don’t like the things I like. I don’t know– it seems like on some days they don’t like me and then other days they do. Maybe I’m just scared of that.”
“You’re lucky the printer didn’t hit Mrs. G. You’re even luckier you didn’t get in big trouble. I think that you were angry and you didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” He’s surprised by how well you manage to read him. He didn’t even know how he felt himself. It was an overwhelming feeling of rage that any six year old would have when things didn’t go their way, just that he approached it in a way that no one would believe a six year old would be able to do.
“Do you wanna see the books I’m reading later? You can borrow them if you’d like.” Connor looks at you and that stupid hopeful expression on your face, reluctantly nodding. He wasn’t one to turn down a read. He’d gotten sick of the rose hunting prince anyways.
Most kids in your class would rather go for the toys and playmat while the library picked up dust. Connor watched you every time you went to the little library in your room to pick up a book, always leaning over to see what you were reading. You seemed like one of the only avid readers in your class, not dozing off or merely flipping pages for convenience during silent reading. You really took your time in absorbing what was on the pages; sometimes he witnessed you even shed a tear.
From there, the two of you became good friends. Every partner project, you two would pair up. Every gym class, you’d be on the same team. If anything involved pairs, it would always be the two of you together, to the point where people started joking that you two were dating. Of course, you always brushed it off, but Connor seemed to think otherwise.
At the time, he couldn’t put his finger on what exactly he felt about you. He felt safe, happy, content. He also felt compassionate, open, and endearing. But years later, only when he went to Hanover and was in his first relationship, dealing with a multitude of emotional troubles, was when he realized what those feelings were.
Connor’s head rested on Miguel’s chest as he exhaled a puff of smoke. “She read a lot, sometimes I went over to her place, she always stayed by my side even thought she was made fun of, we’d trade lunches–“ He’s cut off by the sound of his friend chuckling. “Wow, you must’ve really liked her.”
“Huh?”
“I mean, I don’t think I’ve heard any guy in our entire school talk about a girl… not sexually.”
“That’s because we were in elementary. I wasn’t perverted.”
“Still, you blabber about her with such purity. Like a girl you really did love, even if you only were in the seventh grade. She seems nice. If you ever find her again, you should introduce her to me.” In the words that Miguel put it in, he was finally able to understand why he got so much more nervous around you. Why he’d scold himself for doing something moronic in front of you, unless that something made you laugh; he’d let out an internal sigh of relief.
Why he tended to defend you if someone teased you. Why he’d freeze up when your arm would brush against his. Why he’d always overthink about what you thought of him, knowing that you’d never leave his side. Instead, he left yours. He could see the hurt in your eyes after he told you he was moving schools and it almost made him want to stay just for you.
But knowing his parents, they wouldn’t understand why he’d change his mind so last minute.
Sometimes he didn’t understand why you stayed by his side. He knew you were somewhat of a fragile person, but watched you desensitize to those comments over the years.
Connor feels guilty talking about an old undetermined crush with a boy he was on indefinite terms with, but Miguel didn’t seem to mind. “I guess I did like her.” He squeezes Miguel’s hand, suddenly overwhelmed with disappointment. “And now I’ll never be able to see her again.”
“Didn’t you say you went to her place for projects and stuff? Couldn’t you pay her a visit?”
“What if she moved?”
Miguel scoffs. “Highly doubt it. What comes here, stays here.”
The suggestion played on loop in Connor’s head every day, even contemplating actually paying a visit. Yet he never owned up to it, until he was expelled and moved to a new school. Again.
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You rest your head on the desk, ignoring the homework reminders being given to the class. You stare blankly at the teacher through your hair, another boy coming into view that you hadn’t seen before.
His hair was brown, curly, and nearly reached his shoulders. He had defining cheekbones and painted nails, dark clothes and a messenger bag. A new student. A new student that you couldn’t help but think looked familiar to you, until you heard his name.
Connor Murphy.
He sat down in front of you, putting his bag to the side and kicking it under his desk. You wanted to talk to him, but it seemed like he didn’t recognize you either. Was it really him? The Connor Murphy who you sat under trees with, reading books and arguing about your favourite characters? The Connor Murphy who barely passed 4th grade?
“Connor…” You mutter a bit too loud, his head turned to side eye you. “What?” He replies, almost aggressively, his stare dark and hardening. You couldn’t believe it was him. But really, how many other Connor Murphy’s could there be in suburban New York?
He begins to turn away until you begin speaking. “Do you still read The Little Prince?” This time, he fully turns to you, eyes wide and no longer dull. “How many times have you read it since I’ve talked to you under that tree?” You smile, and Connor swears his heart stops. Out of pure shock, not attraction.
“Y/N?” He asks, and you nod, his face lighting up with a small smile. “Holy shit…” He sighs, his reaction making you giggle.
You’ve changed. You stopped tying your hair up, you gained a pair of dark circles, and he could just feel maturity radiating from you somehow. At least, you were more mature than he was.
“Um, I don’t really have anyone to hang out with during lunch. Do you wanna catch up then?” You offer, his head tilting. “Why not now? Instead of working on that project of yours.” Your face drops. “There’s a project?” What project was he talking about? Was it– oh, it was the role model one. You finished it already.
“Lucky you don’t have to do it. If we present, we get extra credit. I’m not up for humiliation though.” He turns around fully, and your eyes are drawn to his hands, slim and a bit veiny. He adorned a bracelet and his nail polish was black. He played with his fingers almost nervously, his hands on your desk. “What have you been up to?”
“I picked up guitar. Um, I do some vocal stuff outside of school.”
“Like performances?”
You nod. “Different genres. Jazz, pop, R&B… I’m in a few groups.” He nods. “I didn’t know you could sing.”
“I never showed off when we were younger. I’ve been taking lessons for a while.”
“Maybe you could show me later. Y’know, outside of school.” He quips with a hoping smile. “Are you flirting with me, Murphy?” You ask, leaning forward slightly, his eyes moving from your chest back to your eyes. “Maybe.” You scoff, shoving away his face. “You’re a pervert now?” You laugh, but his smile slowly begins to disappear.
“Oh, I was joking, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that– I mean, no one’s perverted to their childhood best friend right?” You awkwardly laugh while he sighs. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to look at you like that.”
“Like what?”
“Y/N, I was staring at your boobs.”
“Like a pervert?”
“For fuck’s sake, L/N, I am not a pervert.”
“Never said you were.”
You were provoking him. If it was another person doing the same thing, he’d have their head. Thrown something at them or given them a black eye. With you, it was all natural humour and jokes. He could brush it off without the need for bruising. The worst part was that you didn’t know you were aggravating him, with your cheeky smile and mischievous gaze.
Later that day, during lunch, you catch Connor off guard, leaning against a tree in the back of the school grounds where no one was, blowing out smoke. He tended to find solace in places where it was quiet and mostly alone. In high school, it was hard to find that kind of privacy, so you thought he’d be away and in the back where no one hung out, besides the drug dealers and porn magazine sellers.
“You smoke now?” You ask, him inhaling and letting out another puff. “I started a while ago. Keeps me sane.” He pulls it away from his mouth, contemplating. “I was gonna offer you some but, you sing now. I guess that comes in conflict.” How sweet of him to be so considerate. “Yeah. Wouldn’t wanna try it either way.”
You pause for a moment, watching him discard the joint. “How was Hanover?” You ask, a rush of memories overwhelming him all at once. “It was a fresh start. I liked it. I, um, made out with a dude? I don’t know, it was complicated.” You certainly didn’t expect that. “You had a boyfriend, then?”
“I dunno, we never specified on it. Complicated relationship.”
“How about girlfriends?” You hear him scoff. “You really think a guy that went to an all boys school would find a girlfriend?” You shrug, standing beside him. “I thought it was common for all boys and all girls schools to collaborate or host events together.”
“I don’t know if there were any collaborating events. I always skipped. Speaking of skipping, would you like to join me on a trip to Burger King instead of going to fifth and sixth?” You shouldn’t be surprised he’s skipping classes. He always joked about doing so in elementary, yet it never crossed your mind to contemplate if he was actually going to do so. “Unlike you, I actually care about my grades. You can come over if you’d like.”
“After years you still expect me to know the address?” He jokes. “I haven’t moved. I’ll text you.” You pull out your phone, opening your contacts app and letting him type in his number. He set his contact name as ‘C’, with a cigarette emoji next to it. “If you ever call me and that name pops up on my phone while I’m with my dad, he is going to kill me. Thinking I have a dealer or something.”
“Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me.”
You text him the address, not seeing him for the rest of the school day. He frequently skipped classes, except for the classes you two had together. He came over many times, your dad eventually meeting him when he wasn’t rushing out the door for work.
Only… one particular visit caused something to happen with reasons unknown.
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You open the window, lighting some scented candles you found in the closet. Connor looked at his joint, inspecting it carefully, instead tossing it somewhere in his bag rather than lighting it, laying face up on your bed with a sigh.
The first time he was in your room, the first thing he asked was:
“Why the fuck is there sheet music everywhere?”
Which surprised you at first, mostly because you didn’t think he’d know what it was in the first place. He’d always smoke, mostly out the window, and you’d drench your room in air freshener afterwards so your dad wouldn’t know.
Connor was a very touchy person, especially when he was high. Sometimes he’d rest his head on your shoulder, his breath smelling of weed. Or on your lap, where his hair sometimes got trapped between your thighs. A hand on your leg, or on your thigh. You didn’t think of it at first, because it was Connor.
Though he took touchy to an extreme one day.
“Have you kissed anyone yet? Y’know, while I haven’t seen you.” You look up at him from your paper, amused. “Why are you asking?” He shakes his head, turning over and looking at you. “Oh, no, just wondering. So is that a no?” You sigh with a silent laugh. “No, I haven’t kissed anyone, Connor.”
“Really?”
“Mhm.”
“So you’re a virgin, then?”
“Connor, where is this coming from?”
“Do you know about the jocks constantly rambling about all the girls they have sex with?” He ignores your question with another question. “Yeah. It’s fucking annoying.” You scoff with a breathy laugh, taking a sip from your bottle. “You know they talk about you, right?”
You nearly spit out your water, saving the drops that fall from your mouth from falling onto your shorts. “Excuse me?” You say after swallowing. “Yeah. It’s all, ‘Bet 10 bucks I can bang her’ while they point at you. Or they go, ‘Jesus, wonder how much she can take’.”
“So I’m being objectified?” He nods slowly, looking up at you through his messy hair. “Unfortunately, yes. Want me to do something?”
“If it results in you getting suspended, no.”
“You sure? Those guys are dicks.”
“They’ll never believe us without any proof. And your reputation is bad enough already. I don’t want you to fall any more because of me.”
“Y/N, I’ll do anything for you.”
Those words make you pause and reflect. Was he high? No, because he tossed his joint in his bag anywhere. Even then, Connor would never say that for anyone. It seemed so out of character for him that you almost laughed.
“Are you high?”
“What?”
“I know damn well you wouldn’t do anything for anyone.”
“Y/N, I’m serious.” His gaze is stern, dark, and hard but also eager, glossy and hopeful. “I don’t know, maybe it is the weed I smoked twelve hours ago, but you’re really pretty. Sometimes I wonder how I managed to become friends with someone like you.”
“Someone like me?”
“Someone so pretty that doesn’t give a fuck about the fact I do drugs or the shit I’m dealing with. I really like you, Y/N. Always have. You didn’t single me out, you never left my side— you’re the one person in my fucked up life that makes me feel like I belong. That I matter.” Your childhood best friend, who’s now sitting up with a hand on your thigh, just confessed his undying love to you.
And you had to admit, the more you two started to hang out and reconnect, the more you started to develop something of an attraction to him. He never smiled at anyone but you, he didn’t push you away or glare at you; it was like he had a soft spot just for you, and it made you like him even more.
“I hope you aren’t gonna fuck me over. Y’know, if you don’t like me back.” His finger traces patterns on your thigh, the way his hand unknowingly rides up making your brain go haywire. “I’m… I, uh– I’m not.” He looks at you, for some reason, disappointed. “Should’ve known you didn’t. Forget this ever happened, then.”
“No, no! I like you! I really do like you, Connor. You’re charming and handsome and…” You hear him huff out a laugh, his face closing in on yours. “I know no one else thinks of me like that but you. You’re obsessed with me.”
“Could say the same for you, Murphy.”
His head tilts, his nose touching yours. “Wanna kiss you.” He mutters. You simply nod, inviting. “Okay.” You reply. He presses his lips to yours, feeling full and complete the moment you two meet. He can sense your confusion at first, but you managed to learn how to move with him quickly. Perks of being a fast learner.
He hovers on top of you on your bed, admiring you when he pulls away. His eyes shamelessly trail down from your face, to your chest, your stomach, your legs, his face cupped in your hands and pulling him towards you to kiss him again.
His tongue slipped into your mouth, the mood instantly erotic.
His hands are all over you. The back of your head, your shoulders, your waist, your hips, your thighs; he placed them wherever he could push you closer to him. When his mouth follows his hands to descend to your neck, you let out a soft whimper, panicking when you barely catch sight of the door.
“W-Wait.” You pant, nudging Connor for him to move to the side. You scramble off your bed, closing the window and the curtain and turning off the lights, going for the doorknob. “Thought you said your dad wasn’t home.” Connor says as you lock the door. “Never know when he will be.”
When you join him on the bed, his hands at the hem of your shirt, you stop him with a touch on his wrist. “Um, I don’t…”
“Oh, shit, did I go too far? I’m sorry–“
“No, no! I want it, I really do, but… you know...” He realized how nervous you were, remembering you haven’t done anything like this before. He gives you a gentle kiss on your forehead, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You know I have. You trust me?” He asks, giving you doe eyes you’ve never seen before. You nod, emitting a chuckle from him. “Let me take care of you then.”
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Sex was one thing. Having sex with your best friend is another.
It’s either your dad stayed at work all night or he’s in grave danger, given you haven’t heard him scream out of pure horror, then yell at you first thing in the morning. You woke up unbothered, naked, and held by your best friend. Unless this whole thing changed your relationship.
Were you even friends anymore? Was this a friends with benefits thing now? But he practically confessed to you yesterday, unless he was high. But he didn’t smoke anything, and the room doesn’t smell that bad…
One thing is for sure: Connor Murphy knows how to fuck.
Maybe it was the fact that you were a complete virgin or that you did whatever he asked you to, but you swear you could still feel how you felt last night when he was in you.
Your head rests on his arm, wrapping around you and holding you close to him. The ends of his hair touch your own head, and you blow them out of the way. You can feel him move, and he groans, meaning you woke him up. You lean into him more, feeling his fingers lightly brush your side. You feel his head turn, his hair moving from your head.
“Hi.” He says, peering down at you. You look up at him, noticing his gaze. “Hi.”
He plants a kiss on your forehead, his fingers moving to brush through your hair. “I think I passed out after.” You say, hearing him chuckle. “You did. When I came back to clean up, you were nearly snoring.”
“Oh god, I snore?”
“Loudly.”
He notices you going silent, immediately worried. “I was just joking! Well, kind of, you snore, but not loudly. Not like a dad snore.” You giggle into the side of his arm, followed by a brief moment of silence. “What are we now?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think friends confess their undying love for each other and tie it off with sex.”
He pauses, hearing quiet hums come from his mouth. “Can I be your boyfriend, then?” He feels you nod against his arm while you hum in response. “Yeah.” You get out from under the covers, going to stand up until a brief pain shoots up your legs.
Memories of the night before suddenly come rushing in. “Fuck those jocks, I’m the only one who can see you like this.” He said, after making a mess of you with only his fingers.
He really fucked you good last night.
You curse under your breath, legs weak as you stare at the scattered clothes on the ground, tossing your own into the laundry basket by your door. You grab a new change, turning around and noticing Connor staring at you the whole time, an expression you can’t make out.
“I was that good? Your legs are shaking.” You roll your eyes and throw his shirt at him after putting on a pair of shorts. “Shut up. A real boyfriend would help me and not make fun of me.” He fake pouts, getting out of bed and putting on his own clothes.
You turn on the TV downstairs, the morning news playing and showing the date as Friday.
Friday.
Shit.
You’re beyond late.
“Turns out there was a gas leak so there’s no school. That works out great for us.” Connor says as if he could read your mind. You hear the garage door open, meaning your dad had just come home from work. He enters the room, seeing both of you standing by the kitchen counter.
“Shouldn’t you two be at school?” Is the first thing your dad says, eyeing both of you. “Cancelled. Gas leak.” You feel Connor’s hand rest at your hip, wanting to swat it away but knowing your dad already saw it just by the look on his face. “Did he use protection? I know you’re on those pills, but–“
“Oh my god, yes, he did, look– can we talk about this later?” Your dad shrugs and nods before heading for the stairs, hearing Connor laugh beside you. “How did he know?” You panic, placing toast on both your plates. “Maybe he saw your legs shaking from there.”
“Shut up.”
“Make me.”
You glare at him, giving him a brief kiss before bringing both your plates to the table. He quite literally does as you say, keeping quiet the entire time he eats his breakfast.
You should do that more often.
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You knew that Connor was a very mischievous person. He always has been.
He’d skip classes, casually threaten people as if it were nothing, smoke weed; he nearly flushed firecrackers down a toilet once. He didn’t go through with it because you told him not to.
He was also mischievous in terms of your relationship.
He let you leave hickeys wherever you saw fit, in places visible and invisible. You were more wary of it. He showed them off proudly; well, not really proudly, he just didn’t mind if people saw or stared at him with hanging jaws. He couldn’t be bothered to cover them— the only time he did care was when his family would point them out.
He’d sneak out and go to your place frequently; he always preferred your house over his, mostly because he felt like he had a parent he could actually tolerate (and love). If your dad were to ever barge in, he’d stare at Connor, then at you, then at Connor’s bag, and ask if he had protection before leaving and closing the door. Connor always said yes.
It was also a convenient reminder for you to lock your door anytime Connor was in your room, since most of the time nights would always end in sex.
You fumbled for your keys to unlock the front door, Connor’s lips on yours when you stumbled inside. You didn’t notice a bunch of men in the living room, including your dad, holding beer bottles and staring at you until you saw them out of the corner of your eye. “Welcome back. How was the party?” Your dad asks, as if he didn’t see the escapade between you and your boyfriend.
“It was shhh– It sucked. Yeah. It sucked. Hi.” You mutter the last part, eyes quickly dashing over everyone who’s attention is taken away from the game on the TV. “Um, we’re just gonna… yeah.” You drag Connor with you out of their sight and upstairs.
“Does he have–“
“Yes!”
You slam your door shut, locking it, seeing Connor visibly nervous. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Was the party too much?”
“A little bit. And then… your dad’s friends just staring at us. I don’t know– anxiety? This is a stupid thing to be worried about.” You sit down next to him, hugging him while rubbing his back. “Don’t worry about them, okay? They’ve probably done the same when they were younger.”
You feel him sigh into your shoulder, his voice muffled.
“Thank you.”
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don’t grow up too fast. don’t leave me in the past. as long as you never change who you are, i know in your heart i’m never far. 🎧
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hi!!!! im really loving your works!!
can you do a fic where we get to dom alhaitham?? sometimes i just wanna put him in his place yk? 😈
Of course, anon! I’m so glad you’re liking my works! As a writer, that means a lot!! I hope you have a lovely day!!!
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(( Minors DO NOT INTERACT! !!! ))
Al Haitham was smart, you’d give him that. Still, you sometimes disliked how he acted as though he knew everything. As smart as he was, he could be rather inept when it came to speaking to others, which was exactly how you’d landed in this situation…
You’d had one job; accompany the Scribe.
You could at least say you’d stuck with him, though that hardly made you feel better about your current situation…
The two of you were currently stuck in Dori’s storeroom. Al Haitham had gotten into an argument with the merchant, and she’d opted to lock the two of you in, with the condition of letting you out when he apologized.
You didn’t think it was quite fair that you were written off as ‘collateral damage’ so quickly, but Dori was rather bullheaded. She wasn’t the type to hold herself back, if it meant she’d get something, and she seemed to really want that apology.
You sighed, observing the door.
“Okay, Mr. Know it all… Is there any way to pick this thing?” You asked, your tone thick with sarcasm.
Al Haitham shook his head, irritation evident on his face.
“No. As obnoxious as Dori is, she’s one of the most wanted traders for a reason. She wouldn’t lock us in here, especially me, if she didn’t have a means to keep us…”
Al Haitham explained, shuffling around in his bag for something. You glanced at him curiously, wondering if perhaps, he had some sort of hidden weapon. Whatever was fine, so long as it helped get you both out…
Then—
He pulled out a book.
Your brow twitched, and you stared at him unimpressed. “Just apologize.” You spoke, your tone clipped.
Al Haitham didn’t even bother looking up, opting to turn the next page of his book.
You withheld the urge to snatch the book, instead furrowing your brows in thought. You’d figure it out yourself, and then—
He could stay in here without you. You doubted you could surpass Al Haitham in a battle of pure strength, but you were quick. It came with the territory of wielding an electro vision.
Should you manage to get the door opened, you were confident you could manage to slam it in the prideful scribe’s face.
“Ah well, the prouder they are the harder they fall…”. You muttered to yourself, going back to observe the door.
Dori used electro as well, right?
Well, it was worth a try.
You narrowed your eyes, channeling your visions energy into the doorknob, as though it were a monument.
You noticed the scribe look up from his book, and resisted the growing urge to poke at him. You knew it wasn’t the time for verbal jabs, yet you couldn’t help but feel slightly frustrated.
The doorknob rattled and for a moment you were sure you’d done it, but then the rattling stopped. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. The scribe looked at the doorknob and then you, and laughed. Your lips formed a snarl, as the last of your cool slipped. Slight static built up in the air around you, likely due to your frustration affecting your electro vision.
“You think this is funny?” You spoke, your tone a masked calm.
Al Haitham raised a brow, setting down the book. His gaze met yours, and he smirked vindictively.
“It’s amusing. You’re trying incredibly hard. I wouldn’t have thought of it being vision related, but regardless… The doorknob is likely adapted to a certain frequency. More likely than not, a frequency designed to mimic how Dori controls her vision. As skilled as you are, given you haven’t seen her fighting style, you likely wouldn’t be able to replicate it.”
You processed his words, before sighing.
“Apologize.” You said, your tone soft with rage.
Al Haitham met your gaze defiantly, “No, I will not. Everything I said to Dori was the truth.”
His gaze trailed to the book, and you knew exactly what he was thinking of doing, so you moved.
You used a small burst of electro to enhance your speed, flashing across Al Haitham’s side, before snatching the book.
Satisfaction bubbled up in you, seeing the surprise that briefly passed his face.
You’d caught him off guard.
Good.
You likely wouldn’t have succeeded, had he be on guard against you. You scanned the back of the book, looking for a description, before sighing. You gestured towards Al Haitham, your gaze still on the overview of the book.
“I’m not surprised you’re bad with people, if this is your choice of literature. People aren’t like equations, though they’re just as complicated. Still, no human is quite this dry… Except, perhaps you…”
You spoke, your tone a blend of irritation and amusement.
Al Haitham glowered, stepping forward, his shadow enveloping your form.
“My book.” He spoke, his expression dark.
You rolled your eyes, slightly amused at the intimidation tactic. It may work on those he was unfamiliar with, but you’d had the unfortunate pleasure of playing babysitter for the past month.
You grinned at him, scanning the first pages’ content. “What about your book?”
Al Haitham’s brow twitched, and you donned an expression of mock disappointment.
“I’d thought the Akademyia’s scribe would have a more expansive vocabulary. What about your book, Al Haitham?” You goaded, hoping for him to take the bait.
Al Haitham’s hand caught your wrist, and he attempted to pull the book from your hand.
You grinned, channeling energy from your vision into the book, as though it were a catalyst.
Al Haitham pulled his hand back, his eyes narrowed in irritation.
You laughed at that, observing the frustration evident on his face.
“It’s irritating, isn’t it?” You asked, and he met your question with a deadly glare.
“Beyond irritating…” He bit out, his tone chilly.
You nodded, humming to yourself.
“Well, now you know how I feel~! You should apologize.” You said, your tone light.
Al Haitham crossed his arms, still glaring at you.
“I refuse. Unless, perhaps… You return my book.”
You laughed at his response.
“Why should I do that? I’ll give you your book after you apologize and we get out, or in a couple of days if you don’t. Maybeee I’ll wait a few weeks or months… Hmmm.”
You rebuked his statement, taking pleasure in the way his eyes narrowed.
“I can always get another copy.” He said, returning to his seat with an icy expression.
You grinned, looking at the book in your hands.
“That’s great~! If you can get another copy easily, it won’t hurt anything if I fry this one, right? I’m starting to get bored cooped up in here.”
Al Haitham’s eyes narrowed, his gaze falling on the book in your hand.
“Do not fry it.”
You rolled your eyes, before flipping through a few more of its pages, tauntingly.
Al Haitham took the bait, stepping forward. His face was incredibly close to yours, and you grinned.
“Man, Al Haitham. I never knew you were so forward. Consider me flattered and all that~!”
You quipped, your tone light.
Al Haitham scoffed, his gaze narrowed.
“You act as though you could live up to my standards.” He rebuked, and you smirked.
“Is that a challenge or an insult?”
You asked, and Al Haitham’s eyes widened a fraction before he leaned in closer.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He returned, his tone silky.
You grinned up at him, meeting his look head on.
“I’ll pass.” You responded, a cheeky grin on your face.
You stepped back, flipping through the book once more. It really was boring.
Suddenly, a hand obscured your view of the pages. You rolled your eyes, glancing at Al Haitham, your expression unamused.
“Why’d you go through all that effort to rile me up, only to pass in the end?”
Oh, so that’s what this was about.
He wasn’t used to others saying ‘no’ , was he? Al Haitham was usually at the top of the food chain, so it wasn’t surprising.
“Says the one who has ‘standards’.” You responded, the jest falling easily from your lips.
Al Haitham’s eyes narrowed and his hand’s weight on the grew heavier.
Your eyes narrowed, as you glanced up at him.
“Fine, Al Haitham. I’ll prove to you that your standards are low.”
Al Haitham raised a brow, his expression one of amusement. “I doubt it. It takes a lot to live up to my expectations, especially in this regard.”
You hummed, glancing at the door, a wicked smile making its way to your face.
“If I prove you wrong, you apologize to Dori. How’s that sound? If you prove me wrong, I’ll return your book and I’ll take my leave for a week, so you won’t have to deal with me during that time.”
You wagered, your tone amused.
Al Haitham smirked, “You’re rather confident, aren’t you? Fine. Let’s see you back up those claims.”
You grinned, pulling off your top and slipping off your bottoms.
“Back at you, Scribe.”
Al Haitham scowled in response, harshly tugging off his clothing.
You smirked, bringing your hand to cup his cheek. You pulled his face forward harshly in a display of strength, that surprised even you.
Al Haitham’s eyes narrowed as you slammed your lips into his with a passionate fervor.
He returned the kiss, slightly frenzied.
You met his challenge, pressing yourself closer to his form, and digging your fingers into the skin of his cheek. You let your tongue trail across his bottom lip, before biting down on it.
Al Haitham’s eyes narrowed, and his lips twitched, yet he made no move to open his mouth.
He was making it hard, but that was fine—
You could work with that.
You slipped your hand down towards his back, harshly pinching his butt, before using the same hand to teasingly flit across his lower back.
Al Haitham’s mouth parted in surprise and you slipped your tongue in, feeling incredibly triumphant. Al Haitham’s tongue slid across yours, and suddenly his hand was gripping your shoulder. You drew your hand up from his back, snaking it around the wrist of the hand on your shoulder, and tugged—
Al Haitham stumbled closer to you, allowing you easier access to his form. You grinned, slightly feral, before teasingly pressing your leg against his cock.
Al Haitham’s lips parted once more, as he huffed slightly. You grinned up at him, pressing your leg down harder.
You let your trail down towards his inner thigh, as you lightly caressed his bare skin with your fingers.
Al Haitham jerked at the contact, and you smirked deviously, before pressing your entire body closer to his form.
“You’re…stubborn…”
He breathed out, his tone a low rasp.
You could feel the muscles in his body tense, and anticipation sparked within you.
You slowly trailed one of your fingers tantalizingly close to his privates, a vicious smile on your face.
“You’re one to talk… Apologize.”
Al Haitham grit his teeth, and you pressed your leg down harder, subsequently wrapping a hand around his member.
Al Haitham growled, his form slackening.
“I…apologize…”
At that moment, the door swung open—
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celestiall0tus · 2 months
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Tales of Bloody Bug and Chat Noir - Chapter 12 - Pharoah
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            Alix ran around the new Tutankhamun exhibit in the Louvre. Jalil followed her and explained each display. She took notes before he started in on his theories to the next. She made her way to Tutankhamun’s specter as their dad joined them.
            “How’s everything going, you two?” Alim asked.
            “Amazing. I’ll have the best project for History yet,” Alix beamed.
            “And you, Jalil?”
            “It’s unbelievable! You managed to get everything I need,” Jalil exclaimed.
            “Need for what?” Alim pressed.
            Alix rolled her eyes. “Oh, here we go.”
            “Indeed. I want to direct your attention to the scroll on this wall.”
            Alim and Alix followed Jalil as they approached an adjacent wall.
            “So, Dad, you know this, but for Alix, the one with the scepter is Tutankhamun the First. There, opposite, is Nefertiti, his princess. There are exactly one hundred mummies beside them. She died several years before him and the sun god, Ra, took her as his goddess.”
            “Get to the point,” Alix said.
            “I am. Tutankhamun wanted to bring his princess back to life by offering the sun god a new wife. The scene illustrates a ritual he devised. However, nobody has ever fully deciphered the hieroglyphics, but I have. It’s a magic chant that needs to be recited in order to complete the ritual. I’m sure of it. I just need the scepter and I can carry out the ritual.”
            “I mean, that’s cool and all, but it looks like you need a human sacrifice for the ritual. Aren’t we long past that?” Alix asked.
            Alim sighed. “Jalil, I love the interest you take in your study, but even if it were to work, I can’t allow you to do that.”
            “Yeah. And the human sacrifice thing again. Who would you even use for it? Did you even think of that?”
            “Indeed, I did. The lucky sacrifice I picked is none other than Chloe Bourgeois,” Jalil announced.
            Jalil pulled out a crudely drawn imitation of Chloe. Alix snickered while Alim scowled.
            “Alix, don’t laugh at that.”
            “I mean, it’s kinda funny,” Alix admitted.
            “No, it’s not, young lady,” Alim scolded.
            Alix pursed her lips as Alim stepped closer to Jalil.
            “As I’ve said, I admire your dedication and passion for history and the supernatural aspects of it, but I cannot allow this. Not only because I cannot stake my entire career and our livelihood on a potential legend, but I will not let you indulge in these murderous fantasies.”
            “Don’t you see it’s perfect? We could discover the secret to resurrection and keep Alix safe. No more anger, no more worries.”
            “How would this help her?”
            “Because Chloe is clearly a focal point for a lot of Alix’s anger and stress. We remove that and-.”
            “Absolutely not. Jalil, do you hear yourself? We should be helping Alix work through it to the point. Not eliminating the cause without knowing the reason why. Without getting rid of the roots, it will spread. If not Chloe, it’ll be someone or something else.”
            “But-!”
            “Enough! I won’t hear of this anymore. I want you to take the day off, Jalil. I need you to get your head on straight before you even consider coming back here.”
            Jalil opened his mouth but closed it and stormed off.
            “Dad, you’re not upset that we aren’t making progress on my… issues, are you?” Alix asked.
            “Alix, honey, no. You are young and going through a lot of change in your life while dealing with a past trauma. It is a challenge, but we’ll handle it at the pace that you’re comfortable with. That is what matters most.”
            “But what if we never find out? What if I don’t get better?”
            “Sometimes that happens. Which, we just need to learn to adapt, just as our ancestors did. We are still human and capable of so much. Even if you never find the source of your anger and trauma, you’ll learn to adapt and live around it. Sometimes it’s all we can do. Much like your mother.”
            “Was she hurt?”
            “Well, let’s just say she didn’t have the upbringing you and Jalil have. Far from actually. It made her very slow to trust and guarded. I’m still amazed I got through her walls, but I’m glad I did. I got to be with the most amazing, flawed woman and human I’ve ever known. On top of that, we had two equally amazing and flawed children, just like we are.”
            “Is that why you push me to make friends?”
            “It is another reason, yes. I know it’s cliché to say love saved us, but it really did. I wasn’t half the man I was before I met your mom. She made sure to toughen me up and in return, I softened her. With me, she was able to open herself up, even if it was just a little.”
            “Did Mom have trouble too?”
            “Oh, yes. And I’d get to hear all about it, but that was all part of the process. It’s a slow and painful one, but one that must be taken at your own pace.”
            “Excuse me, but are you the Director of the museum?” Nathalie asked.
            Alim and Alix turned to the entrance where Adrien stood with Nathalie and Gorilla. Alim stepped forward.
            “I am. May I help you?”
            “My boss’s son heard about this exhibit arriving and wanted to visit it to gather information for a school project. Is it open?” Nathalie explained.
            “It may not be open just yet, but I can allow this. After all, my own daughter has been doing the same. Uh, Alix?”
            Alix stepped up beside Alim. “Yeah?”
            “Would you assist him while Jalil is out for the day?”
            “Do I have to?”
            “No, but I would appreciate it.”
            Alix considered, approached Adrien, and gave him her notes. “Give these back to me or you will hurt.”
            “That’s not what I exactly had in mind,” Alim remarked.
            “Sorry, Dad, but I do have to get to roller derby.”
            Alim’s eyes widened. “I forgot about roller derby! It’s not a match today, is it?”
            “No, just practice.”
            “Thank goodness. Do you need a ride?”
            “Nah, I’m good. Thanks though.”
            “Stay safe, Alix. See you for lunch!”
            Alix waved goodbye and headed for the museum exit. She stopped when a tall, muscular man with roseish black skin, blue glowing eyes, and decked out in gold Egyptian jewelry, shendyt, and mask. She eyed Jalil’s scarab necklace in the collection of jewelry.
            “Jalil?” Alix asked.
            “Jalil is gone. I’m the Pharoah!”
            Alix grimaced and ran. She headed back to the Tutankhamun exhibit. She made it down the steps when Pharoah blocked her path. She skidded to a stop and scrambled back.
            “You’re fast, Alix, but not fast enough.”
            “Enough, Jalil! Cut the fucking crap!” Alix roared.
            “Alix?” Alim called.
            Pharoah turned where Alim’s voice came from. Alix took the opportunity and ran to hide. She transformed into Bloody Bug and ran back to the exhibit. She spotted Pharoah approaching Alim while Adrien, Nathalie, and Gorilla made their escape. She chunked her yo-yo in, and it wrapped around Alim. She pulled him out of Pharoah’s path.
            “Go! I’ll keep him busy!” Bloody Bug yelled.
            Alim hesitated, then ran.
            Bloody Bug turned as Pharoah closed the gap. Her eyes widened to see his mask had shifted to a lion’s head. He landed a blow on her side and sent her into the wall. The impact created a crater with her plastered to the bottom of it. She took a sharp breath as she felt the pain through her suit. He reached in, grabbed her face, and lifted her up.
            “Fucking bastard! That hurt!” Bloody Bug roared.
            “Then let’s make this easy for both of us. Give me your earrings.”
            “Over my dead body! Lucky Charm!”
            Ladybugs swirled and created an unassuming box. Pharoah laughed and picked it up.
            “Is this the best you can do, little bug?”
            Bloody Bug snarled and swung her legs up. She hit the corner of the box and it exploded. Pharoah yelled as she was propelled back. She rolled and staggered to her feet. She headed out of the museum as she heard his furious screams. She got as much distance between her and Louvre as possible. She slipped into an alleyway and de-transformed. She leaned against a wall and groaned.
            “That hurt.”
            “This is bad. We should go see Master,” Tikki said.
            “My thoughts too, Tikki. I think we should use elation. What do you think?”
            “Maybe call Bomb Bee back too?”
            Alix nodded. She stuck Tikki in her cap and headed for Wang Fu’s massage parlor. She headed in and found him finishing with a patient.
            “Ah, my next client. I’ll see you next week,” Wang Fu said to the patient.
            Alix slipped past the patient and shut the door. “I’m going to need help again.”
            “Twice in a row? It’s not that one girl again, is it?”
            “I’d rather that. No, my brother was akumatized into this demigod thing. He had a normal mask, then it was a lions, and then I was seismic punched into a wall with my own impact crater. Still feel the sting of it.”
            “Not to mention she blew up the exhibit and scepter that Jalil wanted to use to perform an ancient sacrificial ritual. So, he’s going to be coming right for her,” Tikki added.
            Wang Fu’s eyes widened. “That’s… concerning to say the least. Alright, one moment.”
            Alix took a seat while Wang Fu retrieved the Miraculous Box. She lifted her shirt to check for bruising, but didn’t’ see anything. She had expected to see a massive black bruise of Pharoah’s fist in her side.
            “Don’t worry. So long as you have me on, you won’t sustain any injuries, though you’ll feel the pain still,” Tikki reassured.
            “Fucking lovely,” Alix groaned.
            “Alright, here we are. Make your choices,” Wang Fu said.
            “How many am I allowed?” Alix asked.
            Wang Fu considered. “I’ll lend you three this time. Just as before, they are to be returned immediately after.”
            “Well, I know I want elation and action, but what would you suggest for a third?”
            Wang Fu considered, then took off the turtle shell bracelet he wore. “This belongs to the kwami of protection. I think you can guess what it does.”
            Alix snorted. “I don’t know. It might take a lot of guesses. Oh, you have anything I could give Tikki to recharge?”
            Wang Fu nodded. He left and returned shortly after with a plate of store-bought cookies. Tikki munched on a few before she flew up.
            “All good.”
            “Good. Saddle up, it’s going to be a long run,” Alix said.
            “We aren’t transforming?”
            “You said it yourself. He’s coming for Bloody Bug. It’d take longer, but we’d keep the others safe until we get the jewels to them. Now, in the cap.”
            Tikki giggled and hid under Alix’s cap. Alix messaged Marinette, asking where she and Alya were. She waited a minute when Marinette said she and Alya were at Places des Vosages. She put her phone away and headed to the location. She spotted them with Nino, sitting on the fountain. She slipped into an alleyway, transformed, and lassoed the three of them. She pulled them into the alley with her.
            “Woah! Bloody Bug? What’s up, dude?” Nino asked.
            “No time. I need help. I decided to pick a fight with a god and pissed them off. You three are going to help.”
            Alya squealed and jumped forward. Bloody Bug handed Alya the bee comb. Alya bounced, put the comb in her hair, and transformed into Bomb Bee.
            Nino’s jaw dropped as he pointed at Bomb Bee.
            “Surprised? You should be.”
            Bloody Bug snapped her fingers, getting Nino’s attention. She held up the panja bracelet for Marinette and the shell bracelet for Nino. “You two have the same deal as Alya. You get these for one time, help me, and give them back. Marinette, prove yourself strong and not too soft-hearted by accepting elation. Nino, you’re just here, so congratulations.”
            Marinette put on the panja bracelet while Nino put on the shell bracelet. Orbs shot out and circled them before they morphed into a magenta tiger kwami and a green turtle kwami.
            “Alright, make this snappy you two. We have a god hunting me,” Bloody Bug urged.
            “Oh my. Very well. I am Wayzz, kwami of protection. Pleasure to meet you, young man.
            “And I’m Roarr! Kwami of elation at your service, girlie!”
            “Tell them what they can do and how to transform,” Bloody Bug interjected.
            “Right. You can generate a shield saying ‘Shelter.’ To transform, say, ‘Wayzz, shell on.’ To de-transform, say, ‘Wayzz, shell off,’” Wayzz explained.
            “And for me, when you say ‘Clout,’ you can deliver a devastating sucker punch! Oh, and “Roarr, stripes on,’ to transform and ‘Roarr, stripes off,’ to de-transform,” Roarr yelled.
            “Be careful with these powers. One per transformation and then you have five minutes before you turn back. Now, suit up,” Bloody Bug ordered.
            “Wayzz, shell on!”
            “Roarr, stripes on!”
~~
            “Sekhmet, give me your strength!” Pharoah demanded.
            Chat Noir ran in as Pharoah’s mask shifted to a lion. Pharoah clapped his hands together that sent a shockwave that repelled Chat Noir. Chat Noir scrambled to his feet as Pharoah grabbed his face.
            “Where is that wretch, Bloody Bug?”
            “Couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to, which I don’t.”
            “You’ll soon change that tune when I-,” Pharoah started.
            “Hey, ugly!” Bloody Bug yelled.
            Pharoah turned to see Bloody Bug standing atop a nearby building. He laughed and dropped Chat Noir. He stepped forward when Bloody Bug jumped down and approached him.
            “Bug, what are you doing?” Chat Noir asked.
            “Oh, you know. The same thing as before.”
            Chat Noir raised a brow as Bloody Bug didn’t move. He stepped forward to intervene, but she held up a hand and counted down from five. He tilted his head when she got to one and used her Lucky Charm that created a simple book.
            “A book? That’s just as useless as your bomb,” Pharoah mocked.
            “See, that’s where you’re wrong. The book is a trident true that’s never failed me before.”
            “We’ll see about that.”
            Pharoah reached for Bloody Bug, but she jumped back. She hurled the book at his head that staggered him. Chat Noir jumped in and knocked Pharoah off his feet temporarily. Pharoah got back to his feet as a massive spinning top slammed into him. Bomb Bee and a cerise tiger heroine stood atop the spinning toy.
            Chat Noir’s jaw dropped, and eyes widened seeing the tiger girl. He was captivated by her simple, yet beautiful tiger-themed suit that was cerise, the perfect blend of red and pink, of femininity and aggression, accented elegantly with bronze stripes. Her deep magenta hair was pulled back into a pair of high pigtails that whipped wildly in the wind. All that paled in comparison to her savage, orange tiger eyes that shone with a wild delight.
            “Cowabunga, my dudes!”
            Chat Noir snapped out of his trace as a guy in a turtle themed superhero suit shield surfed past him, pulled along by Bomb Bee. He tilted his head at the nagging familiarity of the turtle hero’s voice.
            “Curse you, Bloody Bug! Too cowardly to face me alone?” Pharoah roared.
            “Aww, is the cowardly lion too scared to face us?” Bomb Bee mocked.
            “Excuse me?”
            “C’mon, meow meow. Let’s see how those tiny claws compare to a real wildcat.”
            Bomb Bee gestured to the tiger hero, who stood ready to fight. Pharoah shook his head and went for Bloody Bug, but the turtle hero cut him off as Pharoah’s attack bounced off the turtle shield.
            “I don’t think so, my dude. You want Bloody Bug, you’ll need to defeat me. Before you defeat me, you’ll need to beat them.”
            Pharoah roared and reared his arm back for another attack.
            “Shelter!”
            A dome-like turtle shield covered the turtle hero, Bloody Bug, and Chat Noir. Pharoah pounded on the barrier, but it wouldn’t relent.
            “Anyway, will he does that, name’s Carapace, dude Noir.”
            “You… seem familiar. Have we met?”
            “Can’t say we have. If we have, hit me up. I wouldn’t mind this hero gig again.”
            Chat Noir hummed as he looked back at the tiger hero. Pharoah finally turned away from them back to Bomb Bee and the tiger.
            “Fine. I’ll squish you two first.”
            “Let’s test the strength of your claws, kitten. Clout!” the tiger exclaimed.
            Chat Noir watched as the tiger and Pharoah’s fists connected that sent shockwaves out that ripped apart the street. They stood even for a brief second before the tiger pushed back against Pharoah. He struggled to fight against her when Bomb Bee snuck around and used Venom to paralyze him.
            Carapace dropped the shield, allowing Bloody Bug to take the necklace and break it. The Akuma flew up from the broken pendant. She caught and purified it, then grabbed her book and threw it up.
            “Miraculous!”
            The book burst into a swarm of ladybugs that repaired the damage done while Pharoah reverted to Jalil.
            “What happened? Where am I?” Jalil asked.
            “You were akumatized. I had destroyed the Tutankhamun exhibit and painted a target on myself. Now, any reason you went into that exhibit?” Bloody Bug asked.
            “I… wanted to used Tutankhamun’s scepter to perform a ritual. I hoped to prove one of my theories true, but also protect my little sister.”
            “Little sister?” the tiger asked.
            “Yeah. She had a foul run-in with that awful Chloe Bourgeois and was nearly consumed by her rage. It sent her spiraling and I just… I wanted to keep her from that happening. She was so scared of it and I hated seeing her so broken down. I felt like I couldn’t do anything when I should be able to. I’m her older brother, and I can’t do anything to help her. What good am I to her?”
            Bomb Bee started towards Jalil when Bloody Bug knelt.
            “Your sister sounds like a hard case to crack, which I can relate to. It’s not easy going through life with those challenges. She’s going to have her highs and lows as we all do, but the biggest thing you can do is just be there for her. As long as you do that, you’re doing great.”
            Jalil’s eyes widened as Bloody Bug saw a flash of recognition. He reached out and pulled her into his arms. “Thank you! Thank you so much! I promise I’ll be there, always!”
            Bloody Bug chuckled nervously. She patted Jalil’s head, then pushed him away as her earrings chirped.
            “Bug, you’re about to change back,” Chat Noir said.
            “Fuck. Cat, get this man back to his home. Carapace, Bomb Bee, and Lady Tigress, move it.”
            Chat Noir watched the four of them all head in different directions. He watched the tiger, Lady Tigress, vanish before he scooped up Jalil.
            “Where am I taking you?” Chat Noir asked.
            “Uh, the Louvre.”
            “Right-o! I’ll have you there faster than you can say ‘meow.’”
~~
            Alix returned home after she gave the miraculous jewels back to Wang Fu. She managed to swing by roller derby, but she had missed practice. Her coach would have laid into her, but she explained Jalil was akumatized and she didn’t want to put the team at risk, which shut her coach up. She had checked her phone periodically on her way home to see Chat Noir had eagerly messaged her, asking about Lady Tigress. She had put her phone on silent as she ignored him, not wanting to indulge his curosity.
            Alix headed for the stairs when Alim called to her. She turned as he grabbed her shoulders and looked her over.
            “Are you ok? Are you hurt? Any injuries, bruises, or anything?” Alim asked.
            “I’m fine. It was just practice, Dad. We don’t actually hurt each other until match time.”
            “You’re talking about… derby? No, Alix, not that. I’m talking about your fight with Pharoah. You’re not hurt, are you? I saw the impact and the overall destruction of the exhibit, but-.”
            “Wait, Dad, you aren’t saying I’m Bloody Bug, are you?”
            “Alix, you can’t fool me. Well, maybe. I didn’t recognize you immediately. It was like I saw you, but it wasn’t you. It was… such a strange feeling not being able to recognize you from your face. As your father, I should, but I couldn’t. I likely wouldn’t have until you spoke. I didn’t place the voice immediately, but I know your tone and speech patterns. They’re just like your mother’s.”
            “Yeah, you can’t hide the truth from us, Alix!” Jalil yelled.
            Alix glanced over as Jalil ran down the stairs and joined the conversation.
            “I heard it too. It was harder for me to place, but I caught on once I recognized where I’ve heard such a tone before.”
            “Ah, fuck it. Fine, yes. I’m Bloody Bug,” Alix admitted.
            Jalil gasped. “We knew it! How do you do it? Did you gain them from some ancient ritual or a blessing from an old god?”
            Alix rolled her eyes and took off her cap. Jalil and Alim looked at Tikki, who was curled up taking a nap.
            “Interesting. Looks like Jalil’s theory of magic creatures might have some weight after all,” Alim mumbled.
            “Does that mean you’ll-,” Jalil started.
            “Absolutely not. Jalil, we have to keep this secret. That means no interrogating whatever this creature is or revealing any information regarding Alix’s superhero identity.”
            “So, wait, you’re not mad? And you’re not going to tell me to stop?”
            Alim sighed. “I would like to, but I know you. You listen when you want to but have developed a habit of disregarding the rules. Not all, but a lot of them. I know if I told you to stop, you’d just keep doing this. It’s how you are and how your mother was. You both are the types to learn by doing. It won’t matter how much I warn you otherwise, you’ll still do it to find out for yourself.”
            “That’s not always true. I listen to you sometimes.”
            “Yes, but would you listen to me on this?”
            “Probably not.”
            “Exactly. I don’t necessarily like it, but I can’t stop you. I want to keep you safe, but I can’t always. You’re in those stages where you are becoming your own person. As much as I’d rather shelter you, I know she wouldn’t want that. She’d have encouraged and supported you, so that’s what I’ll do. For you and for her.”
            Alix took a shaky breath. “I appreciate it, but you don’t have to do everything for her if you don’t want to.”
            Alim chuckled as a tear fell. “Well, maybe not, but it’s how I can honor her memory and wishes. To see you both happy and strong, just like she will have always wanted. For you both to live a life where you could be yourself. If being Bloody Bug is part of that for you, I will support it and you.”
            Tears fell from Alix’s eyes as she hugged Alim. “Thank you.”
            Tikki yawned and sat up. “What’s going on?”
            “Ah, she’s awake. Greetings, little creature. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Alim said.
            Tikki blinked. “Uh, Alix?”
            “They know. My voice gave it away,” Alix said.
            “Oh. Yeah, the glamor isn’t the best in this age, but we’re also not designed for this kind of environment. So, yeah,” Tikki remarked.
            “What’s the glamor do?” Jalil asked.
            “It masks our holder’s identity. The appearance is the big one, except it can’t mask the immutable like body mass and height. It can also hide the voice, but not necessarily the tone and speech. Which, I guess that’s how you figured it out, Mr. Kubdel?” Tikki asked.
            “Yes, but please, call me Alim.”
            “Well met, Alim. My name’s Tikki.”
            “Likewise, Tikki. Are you by chance hungry? Is that something you can do?” Alim asked.
            “She can and probably is. I didn’t have any extra snacks packed, so, yeah.”
            “Not to worry. I’ll help you with that. What do you eat, Tikki?”
            “Sugar. Preferably sweets.”
            “Well, that would explain the boxes I’ve been seeing from that one bakery run by Tom and Sabine.”
            “Yeah, I’ve been treating Tikki a little more. Plus, I had received a free box of macaroons from Tom last week for when Cat and I kept Marinette safe from Evillustrator.”
            “Treating me or yourself?” Tikki grumbled.
            “Hey! I get hungry too and they do have the best pastries in all of Paris. So, I’m allowed to indulge too,” Alix remarked.
            Alim chuckled. “Alright, you two. I can swing by and get some pastries for Tikki. Let you use your money on other things, Alix. Just make sure you’re still careful out there, ok?”
            “Always. Thank you, Dad.”
            Alim smiled and hugged Alix. “Always, Alix. I love you.”
            “I love you too, Dad.”
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hyenafu · 5 months
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Chu, you ever have those moments where you're looking back at your comic and you see a little mistake? I get that all the time with my comic and I beat myself up for it like an idiot even though there's not really much of an issue at all.
Yes, I do. For the entire time I’ve been doing Slightly Damned, I tried my best to keep everything as consistent as possible. However, just like everyone else, I am an imperfect being. There’s a lot of clumsy wording, bad jokes, and dumb art mistakes that inhabit the archives of Slightly Damned.
But that’s okay. They’re not huge inconsistencies that make gaping plot holes (yet? 💦). They’re signs of growth. If I didn’t make those mistakes in the past, I don’t think I would have learned as much as I have. 20 years later, maybe my art isn’t superstar material to the comics world, but… well, I think my teenage self would think I’m pretty cool.
I just try to make every page reflect my best work. It doesn’t mean every page is better than the one that preceded it. There are ones that feel like they didn’t work out, or panels where I was just like “Aw hell, I don’t know!! at least the reader will know what’s happening! MISSION ACCOMPLISHED”.
Looking back at this massive, 1100+ page archive, it feels WILD to think that I could have made everything consistent. My drawing and writing styles have changed several times. I’m not even the same person I was when I started. My perception of the world and people around me is so different now. And they will probably keep changing as I get older.
If you’re feeling super stressed out because of your mistakes, try thinking of it less like “I have to make everything correct” and more like “I’m going to do my best to lay out a fantastic groundwork for the adaptation”.
That makes it sound like your comic being adapted is the goal, but I really don’t like that way of thinking. Comics are uniquely beautiful. What I mean is more like, even people reading your work will interpret it through their imagination. In this case, “the adaptation” would be what people think and feel from seeing your comic. Of course it’s fine to try to be consistent in order to avoid being confusing. But little bumps aren’t going to deter people from really enjoying what they like about your work.
I promise that your most favorite thing in the world is probably loaded with mistakes. They just don’t matter much to you because the part you like is way more important. I know it’s tough, but if we can forgive our favorite works for their shortcomings, then it makes sense that we should forgive ourselves, too. We’re all just doing the best we can.
Sometimes people like your work not just because of what you’ve done, but because they’re excited about what you’re going to do next.
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maginxlia · 2 years
Text
Starring Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji and Sukuna Ryomen in When Things Get Argumentative ✰ The Headcanons
Rated R
Contains Suggestive themes and Foul language
Trigger warning ⚠️ Mentions of Violence in Sukunas
Dictionary✨ Y/N Is for Your Name
No Pronouns in this Bih
Another one requested by the Beautiful @aaphroditeeeee , Thank you boo❤️‍🔥 I hope y’all are staying cool , Hydrated and refreshed ❤️‍🔥 I love all of y’all and I appreciate all the love and support you give to me❤️‍🔥
Masterlist
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Gojo Satoru
✰ Most of us would think arguments with this man would end with y’all naked and rolling in the sheets
✰ Y’all would be right if the argument was small and his ass doesn’t go ballistic ignorant
✰ See when the argument gets serious Gojo gets childish
✰ I’m talking plugging his ears and saying he’s not listening when he knows Damn well that what you’re saying is right
✰ Like tonight’s argument about one of his pranks going horribly wrong
✰ He tried to manufacture his own surprises glitter and fart spray box for the neighbor who likes to swipe packages but he some how fucked it up, now your living room is covered in glitter and smells like a Walmart restroom
✰ You were definitely on his ass, you told him about preparing his pranks somewhere else and he still decided to ignore you and ruin y’all living room in the process??? Oh hell yes it’s ON
✰ Gojo: Babe accidents happen, you can’t be this mad about an accident can you??
✰ Y/N: I’m mad because I told you several times to not do this shit in our living space to prevent these kinds of accidents from happening but you didn’t listen.
✰ So once he realised he’s not going to win this one it goes sideways
✰ Finger in ears talking about I’m not listening, Gojo looks like a tool.
✰ Your face drops from to anger to unamused rage, you don’t have time for this ignorant garbage so you walk into the bedroom
✰ Gojo knows he fucked up as he lay in on the couch that covered in glitter and reeks of yesteryear funk; he regrets everything
✰ In the morning you’re awaken to breakfast in bed and Gojo gently saying a heartfelt apology
✰ He’s offering to buy a brand new living room set and willing to do much more just to get you to forgive him and possibly let him play in the sheets with you
Nanami Kento
✰ Arguments are a rare thing between Nanami and you
✰ He’s always so soft and sweet with you that arguments hardly ever have any holding
✰ His favorite method of keep peace is de escalation because he hardly have free time and he rather spend his rare free time not being angry with you
✰ You’re both grown and can talk things out like adults without the name calling and yelling
✰ As much as he hates and avoid arguments tonight’s argument couldn’t be avoided
✰ He missed your date night again after promising his work wouldn’t interfere and boy is you upset
✰ He understands your anger, he did promise you that tonight would be yours but he let work steal himself from work
✰ As you vent out your frustrations Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, upset with himself that he disappointed you
✰ He didn’t say anything as you went off on him, he deserves this he thought
✰ Y/N: I really didn’t think you would miss our date night let alone not call, I know it’s unfair to say you’re not giving an effort into this when I know you’re working towards the greater good but sometimes I feel so alone.
✰ As your anger transformed into tears Nanami held you closed to him tenderly
✰ He rubbed circles in your back as your tears stained through his shirt
✰ Nanami: I’m so sorry Y/N, you’re are right it wasn’t very fair of me to not call or show. I’ve been neglecting you and you don’t deserve it, I swear on all that I am I would be a better man for you
✰ Nanami lived up to this promise to you, He’s started taking off twice a month just for nights dedicated to you
Suguru Geto
✰ Adapt and Overcome that’s the name of the game whenever Geto feels a argument brewing
✰ He knows how nasty he can be to a non sorcerer so he NEVER argues back with his one and only favourite non sorcerer… you
✰ You’re arguing with yourself at this point love
✰ This man Literally knows when a argument brewing and he knows how to deflect them
✰ Geto do sweet things for you when you’re mad at him
✰ He automatically corrects himself when he’s fucking up with you
✰ When he pissed at you?? He hides it with a smile and tender touch (This man a fucking monster but there is no way in fuck he’s being a monster to you)
✰ So you’re eating your favourite ice cream while Geto cooks your favourite food
✰ Y/N: I don’t remember why I was mad at you. Is it one of your powers to know when I’m upset with you???
✰ Geto sitting across from you: No, it’s because I know you inside and out
✰ He’s oddly perfect and you will never know the wiser
✰ There is moments where his perfect act cracks especially when arguments are about his
Horrid treatment of non sorcerers
✰ He doesn’t snap at you but his facial expression tells it all for a complete second
He’s blind sided but there is no way in hell filthy non sorcerers going to cost him his relationship with you
✰ Geto puts back on the doting boyfriend act again, After all he loves you and what kind of boyfriend would he be if he makes you cry with sharp words ??
Fushiguro Toji
✰ Toji don’t have time to argue and he doesn’t give any effort in arguing, Low-key agitating
✰ He knows he can easily accidentally intimidate you and he’s not about all that
✰ Toji rather you vent out all your anger than he participate in riling you up
✰ He knows you and he knows you’re pissed at him, he feels there is no need to add to hostile environment after all he knows how this will end
✰ Literally if you’re the kind to get more heated at the silence from the other party then you’re in for a rage treat
✰ Toji is sitting on the couch with a bag of potato chips in between his thighs munching away as you rant away about what??? he doesn’t remember
✰ Hell this is so drawn out that you don’t even remember what started it your damned self but the fuel to the fire is Toji silent disinterest facial expression
✰ Y/N: So you’re going to sit your ass there and eat lays chips while I’m trying to tell you something??? You got me fuc-
✰ Just like that he hit you with those Zenin bedroom eyes
✰ As he move the chips and open his legs so you sit in between them he say the most tempting words
✰ Toji: I know you’re frustrated with me but there's better ways to get your anger out
✰ Your anger towards him is slowly fading away and is replaced by lust
✰ The night is filled with you taking your frustrations out on Toji in a intimate way
✰ Everything ending the way he knew it would
Ryomen Sukuna
✰ Sukuna loves when you’re mad at him, he lives for it
✰ He Never takes argument so serious after all He’s a king and that means you’re his consort and a true king never overpower his consort over a trivial human emotion like Anger
✰ Sukuna riles you up on purpose; you’re just more delicious when your anger burns against him and he can do is grin at ya when you’re pissed at him
✰ He knows you’ll claw his back up later in the most pleasant of ways, your anger excites him
✰ Now he doesn’t abuse this power over you even tho It’s so easy for the King of curses to get carried away
✰ You’re steaming and not talking to his ass while he’s silently amused
✰ Sukuna as he caresses your skin: Dove, are you still angry with me? I know I’ve angered you but it was all in lust for you and the way you react when rage overtakes you
✰ His touch always calms you back down as his aura envelopes you
✰ But when he’s upset with you?? Lesser curses heads getting ripped off like box tops
✰ Sukuna NEVER takes his anger out on you
He never argues back when he’s agitated with you, he walks away and just take his anger out on lesser curses (Mahito you better run)
✰ He knows you’re a human and he would sooner commit a mass extinction than hurt you
✰ When he’s better and calmed down he’s going to have you in his arms or railing you silly
Hotties On The Taglist❤️‍🔥 @aaphroditeeeee @bimbopedia
Likes, Comments, Reblogs & Request are Appreciated and Loved💖 Please Don’t Steal My Shit
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tmntxthings · 11 months
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Hi, me again, the one with the future donnie and leo ideas with more cause why not
Just wanted to jot down some UC (unnamed child/character) and Casey Jr cousin behavior as they’re raised by different “dads” (Leo being Casey’s and Donnie being UC’s)
(Again, do whatever you want with this info)
The two deciding to put on a performance so their dads will let them have a sleep over despite literally living with each other (they leaned from April cousins used to dance in order to get what they want)
UC bringing back trinkets they get from going on scavenger hunts with Donnie and Casey keeping them all in a box
Casey bringing back any books he’s able to find while going on patrols with Leo for UC (sometimes they’re a little you know ripped and muddy but psh book is book)
Apocalypse training! The cousins are a deadly duo and the twins couldn’t be more proud, almost seeing themselves in their kids (#theygrowupsofast #soonthey’llbekillingsomemonsters #couldntbemoreproudofthekids)
Elaborating more on that, they sometimes can’t train in the same room, especially when they were younger and couldn’t grasp the severity in training so they’d goof when the adults weren’t looking (some angst possibilities here). Either that or they did manage to grasp their situation fairly quickly and adapted their mindsets to learn the techniques they were being taught faster (#childhoodGONE)
Almost never go on patrols separately. You will have to PULL them apart if you want to take one and leave the other (only exception if it’s with one of their family members but if they’re assigned to different groups the two HAVE to go together)
Tried making a blood pact once (“its a blood pact, we go down together”) *cue the twins scooping up their respective kid before they can actually go through with it*
I imagine UC asking Donnie for help to make a music box for Casey Jr after he lost his mom (April helped)
Them actually getting better at dancing and sometimes they’ll be dancing around their rooms despite there not being any music because they’re cool like that
Sneaking into Donnie’s lab in order to see what kinds of shenanigans he’s doing in there
Getting caught sneaking into Donnie’s lab in order to see what kinds of shenanigans he’s doing in there (#worthit)
UC imagining making the weirdest shit only to actually put those thoughts into action and drags Casey Jr along too
UC, holding a blueprint: So, I have an idea for a new weapon. It's a combination of a laser gun and a grenade launcher.
Casey Jr: That sounds dangerous.
Cousin: Exactly! It's perfect for taking out a whole group of Kraang soldiers at once!
Casey Jr: *raises an eyebrow* And what if we accidentally blow ourselves up?
Cousin: *holding up a wrench like it’s a sword* Then we'll go out in a blaze of glory!
Casey Jr: I prefer to not go out at all, thank you very much…
The two doing their best to sneak up on Leo despite him catching them everytime (literally. He’d probably turn around last second and grab them scaring them instead of the other way around like the two planned)
Ganging up on people. Like what do you mean UC is not getting taller? You’re wrong! Yeah tell em Casey Jr! (No one is safe)
UC rambling about more in depth science stuff and Casey Jr just 🧍👍 (I have a feeling that he is good at science because..Donnie, but since UC is mechanically inclined and was raised directly by Donatello they’re just WOOO you know?)
April and Mikey setting up little forts for them and the four just hang around giggling and rolling around like four puppies
Casey Jr doing his best for his cousin after Donnie died, leaving behind all his work to be carried on by his kid, and reminds them that they can share the burden of being the backbone of the resistance
Getting into petty fights with each other over something small like, who gets the last piece scrap metal idk
Thinking about angst scenarios where one of them is too far to reach the other (who is in danger) and they get hurt badly and then having to quickly get them back home and explain what happened
Another angsty scenario eating away at me is one of them is forced to take a different route than expected when patrolling and they lose contact with the base. The panic and chaos that would happen…
Wowwwwww!!! I’m in shock, future anon you sent me hcs 😍🤭
Honestly though UC sounds so cool/cute scenarios where Casey Jr. has someone around his age and Donnie basically has his own kid 😘🤌 just mwah, love it!!! I just had to post this even though I don’t have much to add just tot this was super duper cute ❤️❤️❤️
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masterofpasta95 · 8 months
Text
The “Eggman is actually an adapted insult from Sonic!” thing that we are now proudly reminded of every 20 minutes makes me irrationally angry so I’m going to put an unnecessary amount of effort into explaining why it sucks.
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Supreme dumbass (although, perhaps not pointless) nerd rage below.
This seemingly innocuous thing is somehow emblematic of everything I do not like regarding how Sonic is currently handled. It:
- is one of the most blatant “Flynn-isms” (providing an explanation to something which does not need one entirely for the sake of winning brownie points with the fandom and “solving inconsistencies”)
- treats localized material like it is “equally as legitimate” as things which the actual creators of sonic made
- instead of taking the path of least resistance, the explanation is still convoluted and contradictory with other information, therefore meaning its purpose of “solving things” isn’t even fucking accomplished
- makes Eggman, the character, less interesting.
Let’s make a ground rule clear: his name is supposed to be Eggman. We could talk about the merits of “Robotnik” as a name as much as we like, but the fact of the matter is, whether you like it or not, his original, intended name is Eggman. And it works, because this character LOOKS like a fuckin Egg Man.
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“Eggman” is a great name because it makes him seem silly and non-threatening, not in spite of it. Eggman is a character defined by contrast; he’s smart, but he’s also kind of absent-minded. He sometimes looks friendly, but he can also look scary and ugly under the right conditions because of his toothy grin and vibrant, perfectly circular glasses. He’s quite jolly and funny, but also capable of extreme anger and desperation.
He seems silly and harmless, but is capable of single-handedly destroying entire ecosystems and designing scarily effective hedgehog killing machines.
He’s trying to do things he think will “improve” the earth, but he ruins it in the process.
If you make Eggman purely evil and imposing, you miss the point of Eggman. These are traits Eggman has in common with actual strangely intelligent manchildren. I would know.
However, I would argue the single most key thing about “Eggman” as a name is it’s second half: man. Eggman is generally representative of humanity and it’s insatiable desire for “progress,” at the cost of everything in its way. And, you know, the “Egg” half is self explanatory.
So, personally, I would say that there is not much reason to try and legitimize “Robotnik” in the first place, beyond it sounding cool and having a pun in it. Eggman is not only more fitting, it is more meaningful.
This is all relevant, because this “adapted insult” shit is spawned exclusively from a desire to try and make the way it was for Americans in real life- Robotnik “changed” to Eggman- the case in THE ACTUAL IN-LORE CANON OF SONIC THE FUCKING BLUE CARTOON HEDGEHOG, for some god forsaken reason. This whole Robotnik thing is also the primary headliner for how the American versions of non-American stories are now given more priority, because they are the more well-known versions, which more or less only serves to retroactively simplify the actual themes Classic Sonic was going for. Why would you do this as a storyteller, unless you were irrationally trying to make everything “equally valid?” It’s supremely shitty to do this fandom-satisfying stuff when viewed from a lens of actual artistic integrity. (And it also makes trying to convince people that Classic Sonic has more going on than it looks a god damn nightmare because they live in this ouroboros-esque feedback loop of misinformation)
And you can’t argue that his name was Robotnik in-universe up until SA1, anyways, and that all of this “wasn’t actually in the games, so it doesn’t contradict anything if it’s retconned!” These things come up all the time in these debates already, and you’re probably bored to tears of hearing about them, but I’m going to use them anyways.
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Lol.
You could argue that “oh, he just adapted the insult before Sonic 2!” to which I have to ask, what’s the god damn point, then? Congratulations. He is “Robotnik” for one, maybe two games. You’re not getting what you want out of this, either.
Well, now we have an interesting question on our hands. Why WOULD he call himself “Eggman?”
This is where things become more headcanon-y, but it’s all extrapolated from actual character quirks of Eggman’s.
“Adapted insult” is honestly fiiiine as another “he’s always trying to be one step ahead of Sonic!” thing, but the logic is really tortured and it’s far more interesting to explore “Eggman” as a conscious, self-chosen name.
Consider for a moment how egotistical and proud of himself Eggman is. He genuinely thinks he is the single most awesome specimen there is, he’s so proud of his intelligence and vision that he oftentimes forgets the most basic of logic, in a “you forgot the first rule of X!” sort of way.
Eggman is also a businessman. And all businessmen are obsessed with one thing above all else: marketing.
And so, I choose to interpret “Eggman” as him deliberately selling his image as a perfectly spherical weirdo with a big mustache. It could even be something like a “superhero name,” he’s so proud of it that he wants everyone to know it and respect it. He is the Eggman, that’s what he is, and don’t ask again.
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If he came up with a catchy name for himself and started plastering it everywhere, every single person would eventually know who “The Eggman” is. And it’s not like Eggman is insecure about being fat, or whatever; again, he thinks he’s perfect. “Eggman” is a name he’s both proud of and is great for marketing.
Every logo of his also fits cleanly into this “plastering The Eggman everywhere” idea; they’re all either of the word “Egg” itself, or something to do with his appearance, most commonly just straight up his face.
Oh, yeah, and as alluded to earlier, his god damn theme song is about how proud he is about being “The Eggman.”
In summary, “His name was Robotnik, and then Sonic insulted him by calling him Eggman, so he just decided to roll with it” is a dumb explanation, made entirely to both-sides something that is actively worse for being both-sides’ed, and it is significantly better characterization-wise if Eggman just came up with the name himself.
Thus concludes this week’s edition of Pasta’s Dumb Nerd Soapbox, I hope I explained myself well.
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charmwasjess · 6 days
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10, 14 and 20 for ask game!
For 10: Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?
All of them?!?! I write mainly in Dooku's Jedi era (pre-prequels? are we still calling it that?) and that was a super tiny part of the fandom back when the movies were actively coming out. It didn't seem possible anyone would care about it now, so having any readers is like... fucking AMAZING! I love each and every one of you DEARLY.
I'll also say, responses to my fics where I'm writing Dooku and Sifo-Dyas together has been interesting. I definitely lost a reader or two, which makes me sad, but I was really surprised and incredibly touched by the much larger positive response to it. Having been a queer person in the closet for a lot of my younger life, writing queer experiences openly is really cool to me.
For 14: If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?
Answered a little bit of this here and here. :D
For 20: What’s a favorite title for a fic you’ve written?
I admit, I really like Milk Run. For those of you who haven't read it, in the fic, a "Milk Run" is a Jedi slang term for an easy lowstakes mission where nothing exciting happens. Dooku is recovering from an injury and so desperate to get out of the Temple that he'll take any mission - so he and Qui-Gon are assigned a classic good ol' Milk Run. Of course, this is wonderful because Dooku knows how to handle the most dangerous missions the galaxy can throw at him, but not how to sit still, and it's fun to write him doing things he's bad at.
It also gave me a thematic chance to explore a topic I love: Jedi working nontraditional Jedi jobs. Jocasta and Sifo-Dyas lives as Jedi who both serve the Order in less traditional "run in with your lightsaber out" roles. Jocasta obviously in the Archives, and Sifo-Dyas currently supervising a group of graduate students at a Jedi archeological dig site.
There's actually a snippet I love where Sifo-Dyas is trying to explain to Dooku that there are other ways to deal with a space pirate queen that kind of hits at the heart of the fic's Milk Run theme:
“She threatens you?” Dooku tried unsuccessfully to keep the outrage out of his voice. He couldn’t possibly follow Sifo-Dyas around for their whole lives finishing his fights for him. Even if he might still want to try.
“Not in a real way. It seemed like almost pageantry to her, or posturing. You know, her crew gets to see her face off with a Jedi, and I get to pull out my lightsaber and wave it around in front of the graduate students, all just good fun…I never thought she’d actually try something.” He scowled. “Especially not with the connivance of the asshole Arnet!
“Sifo…” The words "wave it around" were echoing surreally through Dooku’s head.
“I know, I know. I’m releasing my anger into the Force.”
“No, it wasn’t that…" In his own career as a Jedi, Dooku was occasionally called out to deal with especially troublesome pirates on missions that were more his typical, life-threatening dangerous style, decidedly not milk runs, or research on cultural sites. There was nothing of good fun or lightsaber-waving in the desperate violence of those encounters. “I was just going to say… your life… it is sometimes strange to me.”
“What, just because of the Queen Theo thing?”
“This situation where you and a space pirate recreationally antagonize each other for the entertainment of your subordinates is a fine example of what I mean.” Dooku scoffed. “Come to think of it, perhaps you ought to have slept with her after all. She might have been less inclined to eventually steal from you.”
“Oh, wow, so you know all about pleasing women now.”
Dooku shot him a venomous look. “I get by.”
Sifo-Dyas began to laugh. “I honestly don’t understand why people think you have no sense of humor. You’re completely hilarious.”
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honourablejester · 4 months
Text
Numenera Character Foci That Make Me Giddy
I’m really liking the Numenera character construction. You have your character type, which is basically your class, but then you have your character focus, which is a whole extra set of cool abilities on top of that. You can control metal. Cast illusions. Be a werewolf. Skulk in alleyways. Go berserk. Forever wear a halo of fire. You can be a sneaky rogue who turns into a ravening beast five nights a month (a stealthy jack who howls at the moon). You can be a scholarly mage who also happens to be a professional assassin (a learned nano who murders). You can be a daring ruin-spelunker with ESP (a risk-taking delve who sees beyond). Are some of those advisable? Possibly not. But you can be them. Heh.
So. Some of the foci that make me excited, just from my first skim through:
Controls Gravity. Because if there is any power that’s guaranteed to make you feel like a minor god, it’s the ability to control what’s up and what’s down. You can (eventually) fly. You can smash people into the ground. You can make people/things so heavy they can’t move. And then there’s this:
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I’m putting it here because the second I read this, I found myself making the gesture. One hand palm up in front of my chest, the other palm down, moving sharply apart, like an orchestra conductor telling one section to get loud and another to quiet down. And if a game ability immediately has you physically acting it out, then it’s a cool ability.
Explores Dark Places. You’re so used to digging around in the dark that you’ve adapted to it. This is a mix of relatively mundane and relatively less mundane abilities, varying from making you better at sneaking and physical exploration and finding stuff, to giving you darkvision, to letting you partially become a shadow. And I just like that mix of practicality and edginess, and I also like the idea of someone who was just so good and went out of their way to become so good at spelunking and exploring dark, inaccessible places that they sort of absorbed the darkness and got comfortable there. I wanna make a stinky mole-man jack or delve who hasn’t seen daylight in three years because they were too busy rooting around in ancient sewers.
Fuses Flesh and Steel. You’re just straight up a cyborg. One who can tinker with themselves to try and improve their form/abilities. Your initial artificial components might have been done to you, or you might have done them to yourself. And. Sometimes you just want to play the nano/wright scientist who tried to make themselves that bit more durable the old-fashioned, mad-science way?
Howls at the Moon. You are a werewolf. And by that I don’t mean any old shapeshifter, I mean you involuntarily change five nights a month, you can only transform at night (for an hour), and you have to level your character to gain the control to shift voluntarily (and you never lose those five involuntary nights). And while you’re in your beast form, involuntarily or otherwise, you can’t use Intellect, you involuntarily attack anything close to you, and if you didn’t kill and eat anything as a beast, recovering after the transformation is harder. You are full on roleplaying the werewolf curse. But hey, you do a shit tonne of damage and you can tank a lot as that beast. And! You get the option to pick one of the other PCs to be your special person, who soothes your beast and is safe from them, and can let you transform back easier. Is this necessarily the best focus to pick in a team game? Possibly not, depending on how willing the rest of the party is to work around the ravening indestructible monster that guaranteed WILL erupt in their midst at least five nights a month, but if you’ve always wanted to roleplay the struggle against your inner beast, Numenera does go all in.
Emerged from the Obelisk. You got eaten by a hovering crystal obelisk and spat back out a year later with no memory of what happened in there and, oh yeah, turned into crystal yourself. Because these are the sorts of things that happen in the Ninth World. I just. I love that this is a thing. You don’t even have to have been spat back out as a humanoid crystal, there’s a note that if you want to be differently shaped, like, say, a levitating crystal shard, you just have to work it out with your GM how you, you know, touch and see and manipulate things, etc. One of the suggestions is ‘crystalline tendrils’. So, yeah. You can get hoovered up by a giant floating crystal and spat back out as a crystalline tentacle monster, if you so choose. This is excellent. You do get boosts to physical stats for being crystalline, and later on you get levitation, laser beams and teleportation through known crystals/obelisks, which are definitely all cool, but if I’m fully honest I’m taking this to be an amber crystalline fish creature with tendrils, whose driving quest is to figure out how the fuck this happened. Obelisk! Get back here! I have so many questions.
Never Says Die. What it says on the tin. You are doggedly determined not to die. That’s it. That’s the whole deal. You’re just not going down. Health boosts, recovery boosts, later abilities to stay up a round after you should be dead. For when you just want to be stubborn about this. I’m gonna be immortal by sheer dint of just not dying. I just. I always enjoy abilities that are just raw bloodymindedness.
In general, the Foci are just cool. Pick the fantasy you want to live out, and go for it. Heh.
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queenimmadolla · 9 months
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How do you feel/what do you do about poc that are in the sunken place? I’ve seen poc admit they can’t imagine a poc as reader and only imagine white people, then defend white washing in all fandom mediums(fics, art, headers etc). It annoys the fuck out of me, esp since white creators use those poc to hide behind. Like ok if you’re cool with the white supremacy in your head good for you, but it doesn’t work for me and I want to imagine reader as pic and flr people to work towards and create a more welcoming environment for everyone.
The sunken place, that made me laugh out loud!!! But you’re right, they never fail to show up when a white person is doing their best to make sure a reader is white. But let’s talk about it, cause I been DYING to give my piece.
I can always hear them coming, the loud ass tuba that makes up their Uncle Ruckus theme song starts playing right before they post their “I can excuse racism” ass reply so they can shove their head up white writers’ asses.
The most common statement I see is something like “tbh I just ignore those words, they barely even register to me now, and sometimes I don’t even wanna imagine myself so it doesn’t bother me” like congrats on admitting that the white coding has been SO common of a practice that you’ve adapted to purposely imaging a white person in your place because the white writers you worship made it difficult for you to ever imagine yourself or at least an oc with the same shade of skin as you in a READER insert.
and if they don’t wanna imagine themselves in the reader tag but feel inclined to speak up about people who do being upset? GET THE FUCK OUTTA THE READER TAG! This doesn’t involve you then, bitch. Go read some OC fanfiction, and take your house slave mindset with you. They’re not better than us by agreeing with details that do encourage and up hold white supremacy (we’re not calling you members of the kkk, we’re saying if you want to imply Reader is white, you’re implying we should because my black ass does not have straight blonde hair, blue eyes and cream colored skin)
‘Oh, but vivi it’s not that deep, I just like to write certain─’ with disrespect, shut the fuck up. if you’re white, you do not encounter these racist people on here the way we do because they’re most likely your friends and followers while they’re OUR antagonists.
You do not get to decide whether you only wanting white people to be able to see themselves in Reader (an insert meant to let literally ANYONE see themselves in the place of) is racist or not—just like business owners who refuse to allow POC to shop/dine/sit in their establishments don’t get to say they’re not racist.
ANYWAYS, if they’re a POC and they excuse this shit, here’s a perfect character for them to insert themselves in the place of:
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ruinaimagines · 1 year
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hihihi!! good to see you writing for this blog again!! hope you're doing well!! can I have road home platonic hcs w/their favorite agent? thank you!!! -🦷 anon
HELLO! I’ve finally gotten to this and here they are! It's great to see you again and hope you enjoy.
The Road Home w/ Their Favorite Agent Headcanons:
The Road Home is quite a joyous individual with those they find trustworthy and friendly! This is only expanded even further if you’re their favorite agent, after all you’re someone who must love adventure and friends as much as they do.
Will speak of their friends happily, wanting you to meet them and join the group, insisting that you would fit right on in. A lot of the people in the facility are so unfriendly or stoic, it makes them feel lonely or unwelcome, but you’re different in that you will listen to their optimistic rambling and entertain their thoughts.
They’re surprisingly pretty easy to deal with if you ignore the times they’ve breached and dropped houses on people, they don’t really hold any kind of ill intent and really just want to go home which is.. Relatable.
Will happily tell you the stories of their journey, how they’ve met the others, and nag at you to come with. It’s quite nice in contrast to the usual gloom and sad energy of the facility where it seems as though hopeful thinking is so easy to snuff out. Whether or not you genuinely think going with them could become a reality it still stands as a bonding point.
Even though they are much more child-like, and their stories fantastical, there are many parts you find mirroring your day-to-day life. Abnormalities are based on human desires and experiences after all.. So it’s not too surprising but still.
When they aren’t getting carried away in their own stories they will ask you a lot of questions about where you came from and such. Depending on your upbringing some of these can unintentionally dive into some more darker aspects of your past you might want to try and tiptoe around, but you know that’s not their intention.
Stares at you with literal stars in their eyes, an expression of awe on their face as you describe the most mundane of tasks you do. It could be cleaning the dishes and they would think you’re so cool, looking up to you like you’re an older sibling.
If there are other members of their little group within the same place you work at you’ll notice that they become a lot less aggressive towards you, likely because of the Road Home’s explanation. How this actually occurred though is a bit more of another question considering management doesn’t really like letting them get together like that.. A tad concerning but hey! That’s a problem from another time.
You’ve been assigned to work with them top priority over anyone else, and this is because you’ve adapted and learned a way to talk them out of more.. Dangerous breaches. Of course they’re a bit upset over the wrench in their plans to leave, but they also don’t wish harm upon people which their actions might end up doing. If you promise to help them find a more peaceful way then they may be more obligated to bide their time for now instead of breaking out.
Their short form will circle around you, occasionally ducking and hiding behind your legs whenever they see something intimidating, believing that you will protect them. And let’s be truthful, you will.
Sometimes they get stuck in places and struggle to get out because they don’t really have arms. This doesn’t happen a lot because they know how to maneuver, it’s been that way their whole life after all, but there are moments where you need to pull them out of wherever they’ve trapped themself in. They’re a curious being so that’s also a reason this happens a bit more frequently than it should.
They occasionally talk about the wizard who took her friends and much more, a tearful look in their big eyes as they recall the events. It very easily can activate overprotectiveness in you because no one wants to see them sad.
You have to assure them that whoever this ‘mean wizard lady’ is, there is no reason to worry about her getting to you. Might additionally need to explain that when you can’t always visit them it’s because work is holding you up, not because you are in danger (even though that one is a bit of a lie).
Takes some convincing but through their sniffling they will eventually nod their head. Through their descriptions though you can’t help but wonder if this ‘wizard’ they’re describing is more of an embodiment of Lobotomy Corporation with separating their friends and preventing them from going home.. It’s truly unfortunate that they aren’t able to be in better living conditions than this containment cell.
They don’t blame you by any means but the Road Home does not like your job and the things they make you do. They’ve seen the way some of the other abnormalities act, dubbing them as ‘mean people you shouldn’t have to deal with’. 
At times you have to explain that you’re a bit restricted in what you can and can not do, and this confuses them a little bit. Why can’t you have freedom to leave whenever? Why do you have to be stuck here? Why do those people put you in harmful situations? It’s a nuanced topic but that’s a bit hard to explain to what’s basically a child.
This makes them all the more determined to take you with them, a place where you and their other friends can all have fun and celebrate! They reason that as long as you all stick together that you can get through anything, and that includes this mean corporation making you do tough stuff. 
Will do their absolute best to cheer you up if they’ve noticed you’re sad, and just their attempts seem to help. They’re a lot more in tune to emotion than some might take them for, they just don’t always know what to do about it. So whether it’s complimenting you or initiating some kind of play, the thought of their concern can drag you out of poor moods.
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morkitten · 1 year
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I finally read the IDW Sonic comics
I wonder if anyone’s been wondering why did it take me this long to do it. “You’re a Sonic fan, right?” I imagine some people who know me ask. I think people get the wrong idea of me.
I have strong opinions about Sonic-related things having followed the games for so long and having some Sonic games be my favorite games of all time. I was in Sonic forums, my first characters were Sonic fan-characters.
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(pictured: my first character)
But I think people think that because of those things, you need to “follow the fandom”, that you need to consume and like every single thing related to a franchise. I was like that when I was young, but I’ve been an adult for a decade, and I think “liking” things should be much more complex than “is of this intellectual property”. Do the people who made the things that you like about your favorite game still work at the company who owns the IP of its franchise? People make things, not companies, although it can be fun to see other talented people do their take on a thing that you like, when they have interesting ideas and aren’t doing so cynically.
Still, when it’s something that it’s been a big part of your life and you have strong opinions about it, you feel the pull of curiosity tugging you, and when my friend asked me to read the IDW comics to talk about’em and gave me access to their account so I could do it, it felt like the perfect opportunity to jump in.
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To be honest, at first I was extremely bored. It took me something like 30-something issues (yikes!!!) to start coming around to it. I thought that the writing was really boring. It wasn’t funny, it wasn’t witty, it didn’t make me feel things for the characters. Especially at the beginning where they’re just introducing every single character from the games. Why? Couldn’t you introduce a handful to use for a story arc, then use another different selection for the next story? Were they worried that a kid that had Silver or the Chaotix as their favorite characters would think that they would never be a part of the story if they’re not introduced fairly early? It’s strange. So the first few issues feel like a bunch of “introduce a character and make them look cool defeating some robots”. It’s boring. I mean, there’s really no sense of danger when those characters are just fighting regular badniks, is there? You know it’s not going to be an issue. So why have them? You could argue, well, it can still be good action even when there’s no sense of danger or stakes. I think it can be great opportunities to make good physical comedy, like Tom & Jerry where the robots are Tom and Sonic is Jerry. But a lot of times the way to dispose of those robots is just a panel of like, Sonic dashing between a bunch of them and they explode. Snore! Like, remember how Sonic CD had those ending sequences of Sonic fighting badniks in different Zones and every single time he does it in a different way? How cool and even sometimes really funny it looked?
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dude... he’s made’em look like they were fuckin’
now let’s compare to literally one of the first pages of the IDW comics:
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Boring! Just because Sonic boosts into enemies to destroy them in the games doesn’t mean that I’d want to see him do that in a comic. Actually, especially because of that you *shouldn’t* do that in a comic! We’re outside of the boundaries of video games - you can write all sorts of scenes and actions and stories that we don’t see in a video game, that don’t work on that format, that we haven’t already *seen* in the games. Give us something new, exciting, funny!
This is actually a big issue that I have with adaptations nowadays. It feels like we’re overcorrecting the fact that adaptations in the west were often completely uninterested in the original material, now going too far into “needs to be very literal to the source”. And especially with the IDW comics at first, it feels like a barrage of references to the games, like it’s marred to this mentality that more references = better adaptation. Anyone can read a wiki nowadays, it’s not impressive. It just feels like you’re being bombarded with stuff that shouldn’t even be here. Who was asking for the Deadly Six to come back? Why do we need them? And like, because I got the Sonic brainrot I understand every time that they pull something out of the reference hat, but often they’ll reference things in ways that I’m like “how is a kid supposed to understand what this *means*”, like they’re written like you’re supposed to already know these things, already have played every single other game, and the comics are just a “sequel” to all of that.
Anyway, I think this issue with the action might also be a problem of how comic books are made. Writer and artist are often separate entities, unlike manga, so you often don’t get like, very specifically graphic comedy or action that requires that many panels to set up a joke or some specific action that is maybe only appealing because of how specifically it is drawn. I’m guessing the writer just writes “Sonic disposes of badniks” and the artist isn’t going to debate “well, if we can make some significant cuts to other things that you wrote and give me some time, I can both think up and do a whole sequence that takes up a page and a half as to how he disposes of this very small inconsequential thing in a way that’s funny or fun”. That isn’t going to happen. You’re going to get one or two panels of Sonic dashing into these inconsequential badniks unless the writer envisions a specific bit and writes it down, I’d imagine. Unless you got pages to spare. Also all the characters look like that while they’re doing it, right? The smug smile, throwing a quip or two. I really dislike that. There’s not much emotional range in the comic for a while, it’s just this emotional temperature for several issues.
And even when they start introducing different emotional temperatures and character conflict, the writing at first really isn’t great. I was also not sold by the Metal Virus story, even though there are some nice ideas that I really like in them, I don’t think it’s “there yet”. I think this page here illustrates my issues with the writing:
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For context, Cream (the rabbit) is something like 6 or 8 years old, and the robot (Gemerl) is her robot friend butler who decides in its programming that the best course of action to make Cream and her mom safe is to beat up everyone infected by the virus that turns people into robot zombies - Sonic’s partially infected and is fighting off the disease.
Like, is this how a 6 year old would talk? Is this how a 6-8 year old girl would plead to her friend to not attack her other friends? It feels like that genre of tweets where it’s like “my 6 year old son walked up to this bigot in the bus and told him how racism and homophobia is bad and that you should vote joe biden and the entire bus clapped”. I think she should be scared, she shouldn’t be able to “make an argument”, like she’s not that articulate or confident in her own words, but that she knows that it’s wrong, she knows she doesn’t want this to happen and is pleading desperately to Gemerl and is maybe confused as to why would Gemerl even hurt her friend. It’s also really weak that Gemerl would just be convinced by this tepid argument like it hasn’t thought of these things before until Cream said them, it makes Gemerl look really stupid. Maybe it changes its mind because Cream is scared, because it decides in its programming that keeping her happy is part of her safety or more important than her physical safety, maybe something else happens! I don’t know! I just know that what we got instead is boring!
There’s tons of plot points or conflicts that are disposed of quickly, easily, pointlessly like this. Sonic for an issue drops down in Blaze’s dimension with amnesia but gets his memory back and gets sent back to his world extremely quickly. Like we spend maybe 4 pages total with this whole “Sonic has amnesia” bit. Why did that happen at all, then? It’s not funny, exciting, it doesn’t set up anything, it’s... nothing. Nothing happens.
Also, a lot characters are constantly written in a really flat way. Especially if they’re good guys, they often don’t feel like they have motivations other than “to do good” and their argument for someone in a moral crisis is always “well, but you’re doing *good things* now, aren’t you?” And it makes me want to scream “Good doesn’t mean anything!” I think every character should be written like they have different ideas of what doing good for themselves and others mean. I think they get slightly better about this later on, they make it a point that Sonic’s ideals are about fighting for people to be free, that he prizes freedom above all else, which then leads to him resolving conflicts often with just letting villains go. But like, Tails disposes of a bad guy in an issue by putting him in jail. I would not write that. I think Tails is too lined up with Sonic’s ideals and prizes him too much to do something that Sonic would disagree with so strongly.
The art is also hit-or-miss. I don’t like shit-talking visual artists. Illustration is hard especially if you’re banging these out quickly. Comics are hard! But the quality undoubtedly fluctuates a lot depending on what artist they got for the issue. I like a few artists and I don’t really like the rest.
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Okay, so! With all of that out of the way, how exactly did I turn around on these comics? Just to be clear, I don’t think they completely turn around, a lot of these issues still somewhat persist, but are lessened.
Well, I think the comic really starts getting good once we get more of the original characters in. I really like them! They’re interesting concepts and they work quite well with the already established cast. Dr. Starline in particular, feels like a great secondary antagonist to play off Dr. Eggman and the rest of the cast. It’s a really welcome presence that never feels like it’s jutting out weirdly, like a guest appearance or a temporary addition.
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Belle the Tinkerer is also a really fun character. What all the new characters have in common is, besides that they’re fun conceptually and that they have fun designs and personalities, is that they’re allowed to have character arcs, growth, plotlines, these things that are essential for a comic that leans into a serialized narrative like this one, that they can’t quite do with the pre-established SEGA characters. It makes me wonder if a significant part of my issues with the early stuff is just that they were very tied on how they’re able to portray the pre-established characters or what they can do. Once they create a cast of new characters and flesh them out and create narratives surrounding them, it really starts to get going.
To be fair, the thing that most made me want to read these comics was Surge. One look at her and it’s like. Oh. she’s catnip made for me.
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But that made me all the more wary about her. Do I trust her to be written well? I think people often fall into these pitfalls writing the sort of character that she is and end up with stuff I find really bad. But man, I’m so glad she’s exactly the kind of character that I thought she was going to be, she’s written and drawn exactly how I would like her to be. I don’t wanna spoil people so I can’t exactly explain what that means, just know that: I love Surge, I really do. I’m just going to post some of my favorite panels of her.
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The art is also consistently better in the more recent issues (look at this last panel I posted! this artist gets a ton of work on the latest issues and their stuff consistently looks great!), and the Surge & Kit, Starline and Belle the Tinkerer plotlines are engrossing and fun. I’ve been finding plenty to like even if there’s some stuff I’ve felt is less than great still persists. In short, I’m glad that I didn’t quit even when I felt plenty justified in doing so. I’m trying to be open and not dismissive of things. Try stuff out and go through with them, because I don’t ever want to dislike something, and if I do, I want to be desperately proven wrong! If you keep trying new things out, even those that you’re iffy on looking from the outside, you’ll often find some stuff to enjoy, to enrich yourself, or even to just make an enormous post that nobody in their right mind will read afterwards.
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ixtaek · 26 days
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I know I’ll probably get killed for this but I have a theory why LU is the most popular Link Meet AU.
First off, if an AU is drawn instead of written, it’s going to be more popular, because strong visuals give people more stuff to latch onto. Especially if the art is really cool, colored, and distinctive. Each Link in LU has a distinctive design that makes them visually easy to tell apart and a unique skill-set they bring to the table. I know some folks don’t like that Wind and Four are composites of multiple games which are spread over several canonical centuries, but part of why it works is because the games they encompass have very similar looking Links (I’m sorry Spirit sweetie). Every character wears something that naturally exists in their game, but is visually distinct as “them”. Even Four, who looks the most different from his in-game sprites, is still modeled after the stained glass window from Minish Cap. An outsider to Link Meet AUs but a knowledge of Zelda games (like myself) can easily walk into the AU and say “oh ok that’s the Link from Twilight Princess and that’s the one from Skyward Sword” pretty much at a glance.
But there are lots of really cool well drawn distinctive Link Meet AUs out there, so why is this one doing numbers? I think it’s also because there’s very little extra headcanon attached to the LU boys in the comic itself. Everything about them is pretty closely tailored to their games, from appearance to skills to personalities. The only completely canon relationship in LU iirc is Malon and Time are married and Sky and Sun are dating. Most AUs I see add in some of the artists own flair or ships or identities into the Links, which is great, but it can create a more limited sandbox for others to play in. Like if an AU has RavioLi as canon or it’s definite that Link and his Zelda are related, then people who ship ZeLink can’t put their own spin on things. If you’re adding a gender identity or disability or something to your AU, then people feel uncomfortable trying to change that in fanworks, and may not engage as much because of it. And especially if you have like, a big extra non-game mechanic going on that runs how the Links are meeting that people may be intimidated by. Fandom lives in the ability to adapt and project a little. The more you make “canon” to your AU, the fewer wild ideas people will run off with linked to it.
Another reason, and I say this with all the love in my heart, is that because LU has become so intrinsically linked with the hero titles (ie the game names), some people wanna differentiate by giving their Links different names than Time/Twilight/Wind/etc. Which is totally fine and honestly really fun, but it’s not as immediately identifiable for some as the game names, which can be a barrier. And sure, if you know the lore well enough some are obvious—the one with pink hair is the one from ALttP, the one with a fairy name is probably the OG Link, the one with any sort of body of water referenced is probably Wind Waker—sometimes there are overlaps. Like OoT Link and OG Link could both be called fairy boy. Wind Waker and Link’s Awakening could both be island names. This isn’t insurmountable, but it’s a barrier that LU doesn’t really have.
This ain’t to say other Link Meets AUs aren’t great, cuz they are! I follow a few of them and enjoy them immensely, and several get a lot of engagement! This is just my theory as to why LU has become kinda the Ur example of the Link Meet AU, and why the fandom is so big compared to other options.
I’m not tagging this because I honestly don’t want to discourse. I just want to ramble.
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