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stillalittlelostngl · 1 year

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No Good Dead Goes Unpunished Dabi/Reader

Reader is a healer and stumbles upon someone needing their help. Little did they know the consequences they would have to face for their bleeding heart. (Reposting since I nerfed my old account - this is an old work so please be kind lol. Will probably re-write soon)

“Thanks for fixing me up doc, if you ever need anything just ask,” the man huffed as he stretched his newly healed arm, testing the limits of the muscle and skin you had just spent so much time skillfully piecing back together.

You had to refrain from scoffing at the display, you do the equivalent of a modern day miracle and here he was doubting your work.

“Funny, don’t think you’re the type of guy I’d run to in need of a favor” you practically mumbled as you eyed him.

The man,Yamaguchi, was a local kingpin after all, definitely not the type of guy you’d want to be indebted to for whatever reason. You definitely didn’t want to be entangled in his world anymore than you already were either. You’d been tasked with fixing him up a few times over the years and each time he seemed to be brought back to you more beat up and mangled than before.

“Come on now, you know me,” and don’t you wish you didn’t, maybe then you wouldn’t have to spend so much time putting him back together every other week like some absurd jigsaw puzzle. After getting so mangled time and time again you’d have thought he’d hang up his title and get out of the seedy underbelly of the city while he still had all his limbs attached. Somewhere along the lines you’d probably fucked up, he probably was under the impression you’d always be there to piece him back together again.“I ain’t that bad of a guy.”

You couldn’t stop the scoff at that statement, “Nah, just a morally and ethically questionable one. No?”

You’d seen what Yamaguchi and his syndicate did to people who crossed them, you’d also seen all the havoc he’d brought into the community with all the drug trafficking and racketeering that had exploded in the area the moment he had decided to set foot into the ward. Of course the community had never been perfect, there had always been crime and with it gangs and syndicates looking to flip a dollar were never too far off, but since he came around with the new drugs he had brought with him it seemed as if all of the factions in the area had upped their antics in order to try and compete. It made you wonder the type of people he’d deem worse than him.

You were positive they existed, the man in front of you was no saint but Yamaguchi had never gone out of his way to hurt people uninvolved with his business and doings - something he eagerly reminded you of each time you saw him. You’d counter with the fact that he indirectly had involved countless people due to how interpersonal drugs and violence can be but he always shrugged it off with a wave of his hand and an insistence you were caught up in semantics. Either way. the fact your local boogeyman was saying he wasn’t nearly as awful as he could be had you wondering of the types of characters he must have dealt with on the regular to give him the impression that he ‘wasn’t that bad of a guy’.

“Look at that,” Yamaguchi exclaimed to one of his lackeys that had been sitting in the room while you worked on him, “she’s starting to learn.” The other man had been one you saw frequently during your visits. He was built more like a mountain than an actual human and his face was always frozen in what you assumed to be a permanent scowl at this point. A word had never been said between the two of you and you had been more than happy to keep things that way. He was there to make sure you didn’t kill his boss after all, you’d seen the muscles in his face and arms twitch a time or two, usually when you’d said something that could’ve easily provoked your patient, and you’d felt your life flash before your eyes each time. Making his acquaintance wasn’t exactly high on your to-do list….

You’d had similar conversations with the kingpin before when you were patching him up, honestly you were surprised he hadn’t just killed you for your statements or questions. You’d heard of people dying for less when interacting with people like him and your mama always did say your mouth was going to be the death of you. Surprisingly, however, he seemed more amused by your comments than anything else. Each one always brought some odd look of glee and satisfaction to his face, and he’d always eagerly entertain your statements and do his best to incite a whole conversation with you.

Yamaguchi was talkative for a drug lord in your humble opinion, he seemed more than willing to tell you any and everything with little to no insistence on your part. He his nothing from you, often giving you names of specific people he worked with or police stations and hero agencies he’d paid off, or times and dates he’d be somewhere to pick up his product or who his distributors were. It was the type of information heroes and detectives across the country would give an arm and a leg for and here he was just tossing it out without a care in the world.

You’d wondered how he lasted as long as he had with such a loose tongue. You’d seen plenty of people come and go doing this type of business, what usually did them in is that they told the wrong person the wrong thing. However, from what you could see Yamaguchi ran a tight ship, and if something were to slip they’d know you were the snitch - with him having planted some of his own men in local police forces if you had even thought of giving them information he’d know the second you walked through the police station door. It seemed money and having the right people on his bankroll was able to solve any problem Yamaguchi had even if they were caused by his own negligence.

“Well if that’s all...,” you said as you began to collect your things and move towards the door. Your patience that day had been tried and tested and you had no interest in entertaining this conversation with the drug lord any longer. You had been on your way home before some of his lackeys had tracked you down and demanded you give their boss a house call. All you had really been wanting to do since stepping foot into the room had been to high tail it out of there and get home to your loving bed that was waiting for you.

“Yeah, yeah,” Yamaguchi said waiving an arm in your direction, “I can have some of my men take you home,” he suggested, “it’s getting late, the regulators are gunna be out soon.”

“No, no, no,” you quickly interjected, “Thanks for the offer but it’s fine. They won’t bother me none.”

The thought of having to share a small space with some men, all on high protein diets and prone to violence, didn’t really sound like a good time to you even if it was just for a few moments. Besides, regulators in the area had learned to avoid hassling you if they wanted their friends or themselves to be patched up so you’d much rather take your chances walking home. It was just a few blocks away from where you currently were, practically a hop and a skip - you’d be home in no time, probably before the street lamps finally came on.

“Suit yourself,” he relented easily enough, “but I don’t know how I’ll be able to focus on my work when I’m worried my sweet little doctor had to walk home all by herself.”

Having the kingpin joke with you and talk so familiarly with you had been alarming when it first started happening. You remember how you had practically choked on your own spit the first time it happened from the shock of it all. However, now it was nothing new.

“My heart bleeds for you,” you said with a roll of you eyes and a slight wave in goodbye as his laughter followed you as you eagerly made your exit.

Finally making it back to the outside world you let out a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding and all the tension in your shoulders seemed to melt away. You’d been dealing with folks like him for years now, hell living in this ward you’d grown up with plenty of the folk. That was probably what caused you so much anxiety, at least with others in the area you had grown up with them and there seemed to be a mutual understanding of what you would and wouldn’t tolerate. With Yamaguchi, however, there were just too many variables at play, you didn’t know him like you knew the others and that’s what made working with him so dangerous.

Kicking a small pebble along on your walk home you couldn’t help but get annoyed that the only reason you had to interact with the man was entirely your fault. You had been the one to want to start using your quirk for people in the community. That had been entirely your idea after all, Yamaguchi was just using a service you freely offered to people in the area.

Growing up in the ward, there had always been a lack of decent medical care for its residents. There were no doctor’s offices or clinics present, hell the closest hospital was twenty or thirty minutes away depending on if you took public transportation to get there or not. Most medical institutions were unwilling to set up facilities in the area due to the high levels of crime and villain activity and the inability of the local government or hero agency’s to control it. You supposed you could understand an outside perspective somewhat, going to work in this ward and having to deal with trauma patients day in and day out would get taxing, not to mention expensive for the institution. With the median income for the ward being well below the national average that only further incentivised the medical field to avoid the place. They weren’t interested in helping unless they were going to be making money off of it. Clinics and the likes had been started by members of the community to try and combat the issue but with how underfunded and high in demand they were it wasn’t long until the clinics had become unable to keep up with the pressure and eventually it’s doors would close. You had seen numerous preventable illnesses spread like wildfire throughout the community as well as individuals in pain and suffering from injuries or conditions that could be easily treated if they were able to get to a hospital, or doctor, or somebody.

It rattled you to your core on occasion when you thought of just how neglected and disposable to people of the ward were being treated.

With your quirk you knew you could help alleviate that struggle, at least a little bit so a little over three years ago that’s what you started doing. It had first started with just your neighbors in your apartment complex, you had offered to give them check ups and fix whatever you could fix during certain times and days should they choose to seek you out - no questions asked or judgements made on how or why there were certain injuries that looked to be results of activity in violent crimes. Soon enough, word had spread about your work and how you were willing to keep quiet on certain things and next thing you know you’re basically the resident doctor and taking care of bullet wounds or quirk related injuries occured as often for you as treating a child’s cold.

You just wanted to get these people on their feet and feeling better again. There wasn’t much you could do to try and help aside from that, you weren’t a cop or a hero, you were just...well not a doctor either but your quirk sure as hell made you qualified enough in your own right to stick to just healing the body and mind- you didn’t know how to do anything else.

Sometimes you would be able to bargain with some of the syndicates, it was never a good situation and you felt like an idiot sticking your neck out and just hoping it wouldn’t get removed from your shoulders. However, for the most part, while they weren’t very eager and you had been on your fair share of threats of violence for it, they had agreed to your terms however begrudgingly. So far you’d manage to make them agree to only having their regulators out after the street lamps came on - giving enough time for children or the elderly or anyone else to get inside so they didn’t become collateral in some turf war or dispute between factions. You’d also managed to get some to agree to keep away from certain areas, naimly school’s, religious institutions and playgrounds. Both cases had you nearly at your wits end dealing with the various leaders and higher ups of each syndicate but eventually a majority of them had agreed to the terms you required in order for you to keep fixing up their people.

It wasn’t as if these were wild terms to agree to to begin with, many members of these organizations lived in the area and had a family or loved one’s in the area who they wanted to protect. In the end, even if it did disrupt their business or how they handled things - it seemed most of them could acknowledge that changing the way things were done could prevent them from losing someone they cared about so it had been enough of an incentive, on top of a pretty much guaranteed one stop shop for healing any would, for them to agree. A few cases here and there had them going against the terms but honestly you were just happy something had changed, even if just a little.

At the end of the day these people were your patients, if you agreed with everything they did was besides the point. You had just grown so tired of seeing people hurt and sick when you knew you could do something to stop it. Even still, at this point if you denied your services you’re fairly certain you and the people you care for would quickly become a target, you didn’t want to be endorsing their behavior - not even passively- but you were in far too deep at this point to back out now. All because you had to go and stick your nose into other people’s business.

‘The road to hell is paved with good intentions all that,’ you couldn’t help but think bitterly as you practically had to drag yourself home. Yamaguchi had been your fifth patient that day, not to mention you had been at work for eight hours prior, needless to say you were exhausted. Your quirk didn’t have too bad of side effects for you, you had healed people with much worse, but it sure as hell left you drowsy beyond all belief. There were only two more blocks until you could finally fall into the comfort of your bed. That was the only thought motivating you enough to actually keep moving and not crash where you stood. Just two more blocks and you could finally wrap yourself in your favorite most plush blanket and have yourself a well deserved siesta.

Your daydreams about the rondevu with your bed were interrupted when you heard the sounds of shuffling followed by what sounded like metal banging together and a low groan. Your face fell and you cursed whatever god had decided to give you a far too curious and altruistic nature.

A few feet ahead of you was the entrance to an alley you passed everyday on your walk to and from work. There was no doubt in your mind the noise had come from there and that those groans were definitely groans of pain. Dealing with as many injured people as you did the sound became pretty easy to distinguish for you. However, you stayed firmly planted where you stood.

To help, or not to help. Now there was a question that could potentially be the death of you. This could just be a front, some people could just be waiting on some air head with far too kind of a heart to help someone in need only to end up jumping them and robbing them. Realistically, even if it wasn’t a front, this person wasn’t your responsibility. It was far more likely you didn’t know them and had no ties or obligation to them. You were just some civilian heading home, things didn’t need to be more complicated than that.

Or at least that’s what you tried to tell yourself. No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself it wasn’t any of your business the thought of just walking away left you downright nauseous and had your gut twisted in the worst of ways.

“If this is how I die, I swear to god…,” you grumbled to yourself as you inched your way towards the mouth of the dark alleyway. Here you were knownlingly walking straight in to some cliche out of a movie script. How many times had you yelled at the T.V. telling the actor to just mind their own business and keep it movin? Yet here you were, you were stupid for doing this. Whoever was hurting had crawled into an alley for a reason, they obviously didn’t want to be found. Who were you to deny them their privacy?

As you peered around the corner, the fading light of sun and the overhanging shadows of the buildings caused you to have to squint just the slightest in order to make out the figure hunched over by a dumpster and some garbage bags tossed haphazardly near it. They were hunched over and facing away from you, they seemed to be using one arm on the dumpster to keep themselves somewhat standing with their other arm pressed into their side to, what you could only assume would be an attempt to, apply pressure to a wound. You couldn’t make much out from their appearance, just that they stood a good few inches taller than you and that they appeared to be a man.

“Hello,” you called out taking a step into the space. You’ve approached strangers in dark alleys before due to your work, some in these types of situations tended to be volatile or hostile so you were a bit weary of getting too close. You were fairly confident you could handle yourself, your quirk could damage people just as well as it could fix them and with them being injured it would be more difficult for them to try and pull something fast by you. However, people in these situations were unpredictable, adrenaline without a doubt flooding their system and their mind racing a mile a minute, there was no real way of knowing if they would attack you or not until they did it.

The moment the word had passed your lips their head had whipped up at the sound so quickly you were slightly concerned they may get whiplash from the action. Bright turquoise eyes had turned to face you and suddenly all of the anxiety you should’ve been feeling before came bubbling to the surface. The eyes were focused solely on you with such an intense look it had been damn near overwhelming, you were rooted in your spot for a moment before you were able to recollect yourself and remember just what it was you were doing in this damp and dark alleyway to begin with.

“You’re hurt,” you had meant for it to be a question but looking at the man the pain he was undeniable. His breathing seemed labored and heavy and blood soaked through his clothing, if it was his or not you could exactly tell. However, the way his face was screwed up and how he seemed to be gritting his teeth told you all you needed to know.

You held your hands up in what you hoped he’d take as a non-threateningly gesture, it was so hard in this day and age of quirks to know what gestures would signal an attack, as you took a few small steps towards him.

He gave a sudden jerky movement, if he meant to move towards you or away from you - you weren’t exactly sure, but his legs gave out from under him soon enough and he let out a mumbled expletive as he fell back against the dumpster. His breathing devolved into a series of labored wheezing and coughs and it was clear that this man wasn’t moving by himself any time soon.

“I can help you,” you said in what you hoped was a calm and confident tone. You weren’t so sure anymore. Your heart rate had spiked from his quick movement, you don’t know this man or if he had a quirk that was dangerous, and your tongue felt heavy and your mouth dry as you took another few steps towards him. You still had your hands raised as you approached him like you would a wounded animal. He certainly looked the part, disheveled as he was and his eyes sharp and wild looking as they were.

When you were less than a few feet from him, he had raised the arm that had been against his side and a bright blue flame erupted from his hand. It hadn’t been enough to touch you or harm you, but you could feel the sweltering heat from where you stood. The warning in the action was clear.

He went to say something but his body was soon overcome with a coughing fit that had the fire extinguished and him doubled over again. You took the opportunity to go to his side and help support him as you assessed his condition.

“Look I don’t care why you wound up beat to shit and left in a pile of trash, that’s not important,” this speil had practically become second nature to you, as if you were on autopilot as the hand you had placed on his back and the one on his injured side began to glow with the activation of your quirk. Plenty of patients you had to deal with had been far more hostile than he was being, you took what little comfort you could from that fact, “Just let me help you and after we can both pretend like this never happened.”

Your quirk allowed you to manipulate the biological structure of organic matter, while the practical uses were far more reaching than fixing body tissues or helping fight off illness you had never cared to use it to harm another unless given no other option. Taking his quietness and lack of resistance as a good sign for future cooperativeness, you used your quirk to feel about the various tissues and cells in his body and quickly the issue became apparent. Aside from some cuts and bruises he had traumatic pneumothorax. A blow to his chest undoubtedly had resulted in a few ribs breaking and one of them had punctured his lung causing it to collapse.

“Look, I’m sure you could’ve guessed but you’re not really in a good way right now,” you began as you started to gather the energy you needed to heal his injuries, “Pretty uncomfortable right? Well, I can help you out and you can walk out of this alley yourself or i can happily leave your ass here. You’ll probably die of fluid build up in the lung but shock is also a bitch to deal with, but with how heavy you’re breathing you also seem to be having trouble getting enough oxygen so passing out before all of that is pretty likely,” you said. You didn’t normally like talking with patients in such a tone but with the more hostile and bullheaded one’s it tended to get them to listen to reason, “We can do that or I can help you out of the goodwill of my heart, but you just can’t go about setting me on fire, alright?” You searched his eyes for any sign of aggression or resistance. You really hoped the idiot just sucked up his pride and agreed. It really wouldn’t sit right with your conscious to just leave him here.

He seemed to debate it for a moment before giving a less than enthusiastic nod. It was more than enough for you and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding. Relief flooded your system that he agreed to cooperate and that you could do your job and didn’t have to worry about if he was gunna reduce you to a pile of ashes or not.

However, just when you had gathered the energy needed to begin healing his more serious injuries his free hand suddenly grabbed one of your own. You couldn’t fight back the flinch as his quick movement startled you. So much for cooperative..

Playing hot and cold with someone on their death bed wasn’t exactly how you had imagined your night going and if he was just going to keep this up he could get himself out of this situation. “Look, If you don’t want me to-” you began irritable.

“They’re going to come looking for me…” he said between his heavy breathing. His voice deep and gravely as it grated on your senses that where already overstimulated from the adrenaline pumping through your system due to how fond he seemed to keep giving you jump scares.

You considered your options and couldn’t stop your hand from running down your face as you realized there really was only one in this situation. “Normally I have men buy me a drink before I take them home…,” you sighed. Well you supposed the other option could just be to cut your losses and leave him here. To bad your mother raised you to be a decent human.

Hauling him to his feet was a difficult task, but not impossible. Luckily he wasn’t heavily built but unluckily he was much taller. One of his arms was slung around your frame as he leaned over you with your arm wrapped around his waist to keep him propped up. His face was practically buried in your hair and he was hunched over due to the height difference, but it would have to do. As you made your way to the last block towards your apartment it probably just looked like you were helping him home after a...Wednesday afternoon spent drinking. A bit odd but not entirely out of place in this ward.

You tried to move him as gently as possible but you really didn’t want to be out on the street with him like this any longer than necessary. Drawing any type of attention to yourself would surely get a regulator’s attention and depending on who had fucked him up so badly things could get ugly from there quickly. You could tell he tried to restrain his groans as shudders raked through his body from the jostling the walking did to his ribs.

By some miracle you had made it to your apartment complex without anyone stopping you on the walk over and you wanted to cry in relief at the fact none of your neighbors were out and about. Getting him inside the apartment had been a cakewalk outside of the shuffling for your keys. You’re pretty sure he had let out a chuckle at your groans of annoyance at having to fiddle with the lock and twist the door knob this way and that to get the damn thing to actually open, but you couldn’t be sure.

You mourned for your couch as you laid him down on it and began to work your magic. He was covered in grime and dirt and a few blood stains, getting all of that out was going to be a pain in the ass. You had bought it new and everything, what a shame.

You were quick to get to work, your hands glowing and illuminating the dark room as you set about putting him back together, and thankfully he didn’t seem too intent on stopping you anymore.

You made quick work repairing the damaged cells and clearing his body of debre and fluids so that the tissues of the lung could repair and the bone could be shifted back into place and fixed. At some point between you starting and ending the healing process he had fell unconscious. You weren’t sure if it was the shock and fatigue finally setting in or if he had been worn out from whatever fight he had been in but you were thankful to be saved from what would’ve probably been an awkward conversation after you had finished.

Taking a moment to breath you leaned back and you were finally able to actually observe just who it was that was posted up on your couch. His eyes had been the only thing you had focused on before, they had been so striking in his intensity, but now that you were finally able to actually see him, even in the darkness that had enveloped the room due to you not turning on the light when you rushed him inside, you noted just how striking the rest of his features were.

He had what looked to be burn marks long since scarred over that left a purpilish color covering a majority of the visible skin you could see. Surgical staples seemed to be holding the scarred tissue to the undamaged skin and you wondered vaguely if you should go about healing those wounds as well. His hair was dark and disheveled with sweat sticking it to his forehead. You had seen his face screwed up in pain since you first laid eyes on him but here, sleeping as deeply as he was, you were able to truly see the various contours of his face so much more clearly.

You let out a soft hum in thought as you got up from your spot beside him and moved to get a blanket for him. You didn’t have the heart to wake him up and kick him out after all of that, besides your bedroom door locked and any attempt to bust that in or burn it down would surely wake you up. It wasn’t that big of a deal anyhow, plenty of patients as dangerous as him had spent the night before with little incident.

You quickly wrote down a note for him giving him your name and explaining the situation in case he woke up disoriented and left it on the coffee table in a way you would hope would get the stranger to notice it before he decided whether or not to burn your apartment down.

Throwing the blanket on him you were quick to exit the room as if you were the one intruding and make your way to your bedroom. Hopefully you’ll be able to get some sleep before your shift early in the next morning.

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faithinhome · 1 year

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Neighbor Next Door- Stephen Strange x Female OC

18+ | Minors DNI

Summary: anna had always thought the doctor next door was attractive. and one interaction left her itching to get more of him.

Tags: age gap (25F & 40M), cheating (but not in the way you’d think), strong language, smut.

Chapter 2: Trashy

it was a party for a group of tech specialists, scientists and doctors. and since wanda was the only friend in the group that actually had a career (she worked in tech), she'd been invited and decided to take sam and anna along.

"this is so cool" anna squealed as she blended her blush into her cheeks. "i've never been to such a professional party before. i hope i don't screw it up"

"don't worry about it" wanda chuckled. "everyone knows each other. and they're gonna get pretty shit faced too. it's a once in a year party and no one expects you to be professional. as long as you don't take your pants off"

"is that something that's happened before?" sam asked with a raised brow as he walked into anna’s room.

"oh yeah" wanda laughed. "i'll tell you all about it in the cab."

anna was dressed in a strawberry coloured dress that hugged her waist. it had a deep neckline, exposing her cleavage and it went down to about 2 inches above her knees.

wanda wore a beautiful silk dress that draped below her knees and sam wore a caramel suit, paired with a white shirt and a black tie. anna had left her hair loose, as she did most of the time.

once at the party, wanda had left them briefly to interact with some colleagues.

"this is a lot better than the after parties i get invited to after your band performs" anna teased sam.

sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. "liar. all the groupies literally end up with you the entire night. and you love it"

anna laughed and nodded. "true. they're hot. i love it when hot women pay me attention. what's there not to love?"

sams eyes flickered over to the crowd and he spotted a certain man in a black suit who'd stepped in alone, dressed in a black suit with grey steaks in his hair. "well, i guess you got something of an equivalent of groupies right here at this party"

anna followed sam's gaze, her heart leaping as she saw stephen strange. "oh, my god!"

"remember how wanda said everyone's gonna get shit faced?" she suggested with a wide smile. "oh man, i'd love to see stephen strange get shit faced"

sam chuckled and shrugged. "just don't go bothering him. remember-"

"he's married" anna finished the sentence for him. “i know, sammy. i know"

"just making sure you're reminded once in a while" he winked.

anna had remembered, she truly had. but once sam had left to go to the bathroom because the vodka made him want to shit for some reason and wanda needed to go meet some more colleagues, she made her way to where stephen was standing alone by the bar.

maybe sam should have known better to leave a drunk (and horny) anna alone. she'd just blame him later. because right now, she just yearned to have a conversation with the pretty neighbour that intrigued her everyday since he’d moved in next to her.

"hi, doc!" anna cheered as she took a seat on a stool next to him, remembering beck to when she saw him the last time... and he was shirtless.

that hunk of a body was still under that shirt. and that was the only thing she could think about right now.

"oh hey, neighbor" strange nodded, before thanking the bartender for his drink.

"you do know my name right?" anna chuckled and strange immediately knew she was tipsy.

"uh" strange was stumped for words and her eyes widened.

"anna” she said, not feeling as cheerful anymore. he’s a doctor so he probably had perfect memory. but he didn't even remember her name.

"right, anna. i'm sorry" he said. "i'm afraid we never really were properly introduced"

she nodded thoughtfully. that was true. she'd never even told the man her name. so there was nothing to remember, right?

strange liked the way her name slipped off his tongue and she looked absolutely stunning. it was a little hard to look away.

"so, how are you liking the party so far?" anna asked, scanning the hall.

"it's alright" strange shrugged. "had to come in to keep up appearances."

anna nodded, her face lighting up. "look, they got ice cream! do you wanna go get some?"

strange hesitated for a few moments but shrugged. "i mean, why not?"

stephen strange didn't really have a lot of friends. he didn't get along with the people he worked with, or people that were a part of his social circle through his profession. and since christine was sick and had to stay home, he might as well try to have a bit of a good time with the one person he knew here.

he didn't mind being around anna because she didn't have an air of superiority around her, like everyone else he knew did. himself included. you can't put two arrogant people together and expect them to get along.

anna ordered a vanilla ice cream while he got a scoop of the butterscotch.

"i like vanilla" she piped up. "just vanilla alone. i know people think it's bland. but like, it's perfect"

stepgen smiled softly as he looked over at her. "i get it. thanks for the cupcakes, by the way. they were great"

"wanna know a secret? i didn't even make them. my bestfriend did"

"oh?" strange raised a brow.

"yeah, just wanted to impress my neighbours"

"why so?" strange asked with a raised brow, a soft smile growing on his face.

anna caught a whiff of strange's scent and she bit on her lip, looking up at him.

him.

he was the reason.

his eyes, his nose, his high cheekbones and his lips. yeah, anna really shouldn't be doing this while she was drunk.

"just wanted to be friendly" she shrugged as she ate at her ice cream.

she wondered if strange felt the way she did, as well. even just a little bit?

he seemed pretty normal, he was talking to her like he would to a normal person he didn't find attractive.

but then again, so was she. or could strange tell? was there any tension?

she had no idea.

all she knew was the more she paid attention to his arms and the way they flexed, she felt heat flush down there and her thoughts were turning dirty.

god, why did men have such attractive arms?

and it almost ached to know she couldn't just throw herself at him.

"so, what do you do, anna?” strange asked. "anything you're passionate about?"

you.

i’m passionate about you.

"um yeah it's lame" she started with a shrug. "believe it or not, i'm actually a ghostwriter"

"oh?" strange was definitely interested. "interesting. how did you get about doing that?"

"started doing a bit of it when i was in school" anna shrugged. "just to make some money and well, i always loved music. and writing music. actually kinda like it"

strange liked credit. he wondered why people ever chose to do something like that. but he didn't ask her that.

"and then kind of started getting more gigs" she said. "and now there's a couple artists i work for. still not exactly the most secure job. but i enjoy it. pays well too"

"that's quite interesting" strange nodded. "didn't know you had a talent for music. i'm not exactly the most musically inclined person but i love music. so important what artists do"

a wide smile formed on anna’s face as she looked up at strange with an increased admiration. "you know, doctors or like other scientifically inclined people never really say that. i mostly get looked down upon. especially since i ghostwrite."

strange smiled at her words and nodded. it did feel good to be humble sometimes. especially seeing how happy that comment seemed to have made her. and he just felt naturally inclined to be.. good to her.

but then again, that's how infatuation worked

humans were selfish and convenient that way.

"i'm sorry you've had that experience"

“thank you.” anna smiled.

so not was he extremely hot, he was also nice to her. and sam expected her to not want to fuck him.

sam finally came out of the bathroom and spotted strange and anna together, shaking his head, hoping she wasn't doing anything stupid or out of line.

"is there anything else you... are passionate about?" anna spoke in a low seductive voice. the man treating her so well was turning her on even more and she couldn't control the way she felt herself shift. she brought the spoon up to her mouth and ice cream dropped right on her chest, and on her exposed cleavage.

strange watched as anna gasped and looked down, biting her lip. and for some reason, he couldn't look away as she used her finger to scoop it up before sucking on her finger.

she glanced momentarily at strange, blinking through her lashes.

time seemed to work slowly for both of them, especially anna. she was nothing but a bundle of hormones right now.

strange felt his mouth go dry as he watched her, letting out a soft breath.

"i uh," he looked away, realizing he'd been staring too much. "i like to read."

this was sam's cue. he popped up, interlacing his arm with anna’s. "hi guys!"

strange looked over at him, momentarily glancing at their interlaced arms.

"i'm so sorry to break up the conversation" he said with a smile. "but uh, someone's in the bathroom throwing up." he looked up at strange. "don't wanna name names. kind of our friend. and uh, we should probably go help them out."

anna raised her brows. "oh, okay?"

he took the ice cream and threw it in the trash before dragging her away and waving at strange.

"dude, what the fuck?"

"what the hell do you think you were doing?" sam hissed. "you've crossed the line, anna. this is fucking pathetic and you need to stop."

anna was taken aback by sam's tone. she looked up at him in frustration and shook her head. "what the hell are you so mad about?"

"you're being a fucking awful person right now."

anna shook her head, feeling anger bubble up. he was probably right but she felt so embarassed, she couldn't think of anything else but acting in a defensive manner.

"the fuck?" she shook her head and pulled away. "just, fuck off."

she left and glanced over at strange, who was looking at her in a confused manner. she felt so embarassed, she felt the need to leave. she paced toward the door, letting out a soft huff.

wanda grabbed her, making her jump. "where do you think you're going?"

"home" anna spoke through gritted teeth. "sam's being an ass."

"yeah but you're drunk" she said, her eyes glassy. she was clearly also a little drunk.

also she had witnessed the situation that sam had dragged anna away from. and honestly, she was a little turned on. she had no idea what it was.

maybe it was the alocohol. but right now, if stephen didn't fall for that, she definitely was inclined to take anna right now.

anna and wanda wound up on the bathroom floor, and anna had spilled the beans.

anna sighed. "well, so are you. so now what?"

"talk to me" wanda smiled. "tell me what's going on with you and the doc. no judgement, promise."

" i don't get it" wanda started. "so you don't want to go out with him but you want his attention. you don't want to come in between him and christine but you want him to pay attention to you, in more... intimate ways?"

anna sighed and gazed up at the ceiling. "okay, i can see now why sam's so annoyed with me"

wanda chuckled softly and shook her head. "so are you looking for advice or just some emotional one on one?"

"i don't know" anna sighed and gazed over at wanda, watching as a strand of hair fell from behind her ear. she looked gorgeous under the bathroom light, her skin was glowing. "i guess i just don't wanna think about it right now. what about you? anyone hit on you?"

wanda chuckled and gazed over at her best friend,her heart picking up slightly. "no. i don't think they can. not here."

"well it must have been pretty hard for them to hold back" anna chuckled softly, studying over wanda's features. "i mean you look stunning today. like a fucking goddess"

wanda laughed, heat rushing to her cheeks. "no, i think that's you. i saw your ice cream incident back with the doc there. pretty sexy".

"he didn't seem to think so. i mean, he is married and loyal so."

"well, i do" wanda spoke softly, gazing intently at her, a small smile on her face. "and bonus, i'm not married."

anna could only blush and laugh in response. she didn’t know what to say. if her and stephen didn’t have any tension, they sure did, right this very moment.

"i... have an idea for what might make you feel better" wanda spoke softly, shifting closely.

anna could definitely feel the tension. and she was totally intoxicated by it.

"yeah?" she barely whispered in response.

wanda hummed in response as she leaned in, lifting anna’s chin and gazing into her eyes.

anna looked up at wanda, feeling her stomach coil as she gazed into wanda's eyes. she leaned in closer, as if giving permission and wanda went in, locking anna's lips with her.

soon the two were stumbling into a stall, anna locking the door.

anna threw her head back and moaned softly as wanda nibbled at the soft skin of her neck, dress pooling by her ankles and bra on the floor, her fingers coiled in wanda's soft red hair. "gosh, wanda."

"are you sure?" wanda asked as she now had her bestfriend pressed against the door. anna faced the door, her cheek pressed against it as she stood naked in front of wanda, who had her dress on. but anna didn't care. she liked being on display for someone like that, it was thrilling.

"fuck yeah" anna huffed softly, whining as wanda pushed a finger inside of her.

anna spread her legs further. soon, the feeling of wanda's fingers inside of her, the thumb circling her clit and her other hand pawing at her breast caused a hot flush through her lower abdomen and she was coming hard and fast, trying her hardest to not be super loud. "fuck, wanda."

wanda straddled anna, now naked as well. anna took longer, kissing along wanda's skin, behind her ear, down her neck. she ran her thumb over wanda's nipple, watching as wanda bit her lip, whimpering softly and eyes fluttering shut.

a while passed and wanda was coming, her legs shaking as her back arched into anna's fingers. the two sat there, panting softly before they got dressed and decided to leave the bathroom one at a time.

wanda walked out first and anna followed. she scanned the hall and spotted stephen, who had also spotted her. he seemed intrigued and confused at her state. it seemed as if that he could figure out what had happened.

it’s as if he knew she was fucking her long term best friend in the bathroom literally an hour after she'd flirted with him, a married man.

and anna felt immensely embarassed at how trashy she was coming across. this definitely called for more alcohol.

***

a/n: what. the. fuck. bet you did not see that coming. i kept the smut short because as hot as they were, this fic is NOT about them. sorry, wanda. but it was fun to bring in a little twist. thank you so much to everyone who’s still reading and engaging w this fic !! i’m going to try and start uploading once a week! and thank you sm to everyone who asked to be on the reading taglist. it’s so exciting to see everyone’s response to something i’m having such a fun time writing! let me know what you thought about the chapter. does anna need to pump the brakes or do you give her a pass because i mean, it’s THE stephen strange we’re talking about?

also i’m SO sorry if their outfits are horrible lmao i’m NOT good with styling. but in my head, sam looks AMAZING in that caramel suit.

see you angels next week! stay blessed 🫶🏼

link to the fic index : Neighbor Next Door

TAGLIST

@kentucky-criedfricken @sherlux @evelynrosestuff @thewinterpoet2 @lokislov3 @loolani @0p444ls

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lakesparkles · 8 months

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Ants (OC oneshot)

I'm not sure if anyone here is interested but, just in case, I'll share here something I wrote for some of my OCs, Taylor and Daisy :D

They're surely my fav OCs ever, if you want to see more of them, you can check their tags here (or my Instagram that I talk about them all the time)!

The oneshot can be read on this google doc or under the cut:

Ants

Sometimes frustration comes from things that are impossible to change.

Taylor and Daisy look at old photos

---

Daisy's ants always held his gaze. He felt strange. He had seen several ant tanks before, but this one in particular interested him. It hung on the wall of the closet, with a lamp directly overhead, which made it even clearer: the tiny ants never stopped in their tracks, walking through the same tunnels they had dug long ago. He imagined what it would be like for them. How big everything was.

Taylor blinked, breaking out of his trance for just a second. It was enough to make him aware of the lack of attention, realizing his situation as a whole. Until that moment, he hadn't even realized that he was, in fact, in Daisy's room. Even after dating her for so many months, it must've been the third time he had entered there in his life.

"I like ants!" He commented, his eyes still glued to the tank. "There are so many! Can you recognize them one by one?"

He managed to turn around, now looking at his fiancee (he has a fiancee!!). Daisy tilted her head slightly, sulking a little and giving him the terrible impression that she had been talking to him during all this time of distraction. Before he had time to confirm the theory and open his mouth to ask something stupid, Daisy took a few steps forward, getting close to him and the tank.

"Do you see this little one here?" She pointed to a farther one and Taylor leaned his body forward, nodding. "I call her Courtney! She's kind of a loner, but she works just as hard as the others... Maybe even harder! She is one of my favorites."

Taylor perked up, the tip of his tail starting to wag as he pointed at another specific ant:

"And this one? What is its name?"

"Oh, that's Clarita!"

"HOW DO YOU DO IT!?" Now the tail was completely wagging. "They're so similar... And there are so many! Is it serious that you recognize each one?"

"Of course not, silly! I was kidding... Taylor, were you paying attention to what I said?"

The dog straightened his posture, lowering his head, a little embarrassed. Not just for the last conversation, but the way Daisy called him. To her, he could be "nugget", "sweetheart", "strawberry cupcake", "furball" or anything else that popped into her head. He was only called "Taylor" if Daisy was being extremely serious.

"Maybe the ants distracted me..."

At least Daisy didn't look offended, laughing and making him feel lighter. Without saying a word, she moved even closer to him, only to smack his butt (to be fair, she had rubbed his butt more than anything, but you wouldn't hear any complaints from him about that).

"Stop being lazy!" She exclaimed. "We have a lot to do!"

That command was the equivalent of turning Taylor's brain on, which automatically felt more focused. He turned around, starting to survey the room at large. Just like his house, the rooms there were not very spacious, although comfortable. The walls were cream and… unfortunately, it didn't even look like Daisy's room. It had some furniture, ants and that's all. No decorations or anything to make it livable beyond the basics.

He remembered how Daisy had commented that she liked his bedroom and how everything in there reminded her of himself. Also how, little by little, it became less his place and more of both of them. Daisy bought some plants to decorate, as well as fairy lights. She left her clothes hanging on the hanger, right next to his. The floor was always covered with a toy or more from the pups and, even though most of it was still his own stuff... his house seemed infinitely more like Daisy's home than that empty room.

That warmed his heart and only then did he realize he had gotten distracted again, looking at the ants, wagging his tail and laughing like crazy.

"Ants make you so happy, don't they?" Daisy implied from the other corner of the room, where she analyzed her remaining clothes inside the wardrobe.

"We're moving in together!" He ignored the question, smiling towards her. "It's sinking in now!"

"Look, we kind of already lived together" Daisy stopped looking at the clothes for a moment. "I'm just going to sleep at your place every day, but the puppies will still stay here from time to time and...

"That's like, 90% living together!"

"Right, right! So let's go before my grandmother arrives."

Taylor nodded vaguely, as he often did when Daisy spoke. Seconds later, he realized he had no idea what he was supposed to be doing in the first place.

Focus, Taylor, focus!

Daisy had told him that they should just gather her remaining things to take to her house and... It shouldn't be that difficult.

Except that everything there seemed so boring and lifeless. It wasn't like he was judging his fiancee, it was more thinking how nothing there must matter much to her. However, he started pacing and looking around, hoping that Daisy would think he had something useful running through his brain.

He ended up facing the cabinet next to the bed, kneeling down to reach the drawers. Above him was just a small framed picture, which seemed incredible compared to everything else. Taylor guessed it was a photo from a couple of years ago, considering how small the four puppies were. None of them looked at the camera, being around Daisy, who opened a nervous smile.

Taylor couldn't help but laugh softly, holding the end of the frame until he lowered it and brought it closer to him. This would certainly go to their house.

Finally opening the first drawer, he was surprised by the amount of stuff there. It was as if everything that was supposed to be in the rest of the room had been concentrated in that tiny, cramped space.

"Ahhhh, there's a lot of stuff in the drawer!" He spoke aloud, a little confused about what was important or not.

"Most is just crap, but see if you can find something."

Yeah, he didn't want to do that, his whole body already being taken over by laziness before he even started. But that was what he was there for, wasn't it? Half the reason, because he figured supporting his fiancee emotionally was just as much the reason for that. Daisy never felt right being there or seeing old things, although she seemed relaxed now. She still looked from outfit to outfit, even pulling on some pants or coats and grumbling when she realized they didn't even fit anymore. Taylor could spend the rest of the day watching her do it, his mind amused to note how the best clothes were already at his house (where they really mattered), and that he could buy her lots of new ones.

But now he had a job to do!

Still with great reluctance, he put his paws in the drawer, almost digging through all the junk. There were old diaries. Old bills. Old notes. Even old cell phones! And nothing that seemed to pay off, Daisy certainly didn't lie.

The first thing that interested him was a pink watch in the shape of a cat (with ears and a small face drawn). It had no batteries and obviously didn't work, but he remembered Daisy telling him about such an object once: she had accidentally taken it in her suitcase, as it belonged to her old college roommate, Claudia. The siamese cat didn't mind it so much, and now the watch was Daisy's, as a keepsake.

He put the watch together with the picture frame.

And it was just thinking about Claudia that another interesting thing appeared. It was an envelope already opened once before, with a small message written by the same cat, along with her address.

Curiosity got the better of him for a moment, almost feeling bad for snooping through her things… But it wasn't as if that wasn't exactly what Daisy had asked him to do. Then, without thinking too much further, he spilled the entire contents of the envelope onto one of his paws.

"What photos are these?" he asked, almost shouting, realizing what it was about.

"What pictures!?" Daisy nearly tripped over the jeans she was pulling off her legs, walking towards him. "Oh, those. They're from college, Claudia sent me a few weeks ago."

"Oh, yes? Why didn't you show me?" He made a point of moving his tail to the ground and smiling, fearing that, otherwise, his curiosity would be mistaken for accusation.

"I was going to, but I forgot."

Taylor wasn't entirely convinced though, he didn't want to dwell on something the other didn't want to talk about. What's more, she crouched down on his side, as if she wanted to see the pictures too.

More cheered up, he turned his attention to the pile he held. The first image was a simple selfie between the two. Claudia showed her sharp canines in a wide smile, hugging Daisy (who was smiling too!!) with the arm that wasn't holding the camera. The two seemed to be sitting on a bed, almost at night.

It was so natural and cute and…real? He hadn't seen pictures like that of Daisy before... In fact, most of the pictures he had of her were taken by himself. It made him more excited for the rest.

Not all of them had Daisy, whether they were part of the college campus or other animals that Taylor didn't know about. One was the theater stage.

"Wow, I look terrible in this one," Daisy commented when he moved on to the next one, which was a group photo. There were a dozen different people there, his eyes going from Daisy to a big gray wolf in the far left corner, dressed in the typical green college coat.

Taylor lowered his ears even more, feeling a mixture of feelings that made his body paralyze for a few seconds.

With his heart starting to race, he realized it was the first time he'd seen Ralph in his life. He was so much friendlier than he'd imagined, his rectangular glasses making his muzzle and smile almost look cute.

He didn't like it, starting to feel weird. Daisy shivered beside him, but said nothing.

She let Taylor to do this job:

"Are you crazy!? Terrible where? This dress shirt did wonders for your body!"

Daisy laughed lightly, returning to the good mood of seconds ago:

"Come on, look at my face there!"

"Extremely adorable! Like... Obviously they took the picture at the moment you would blink, but that doesn't take away from the fact that-"

He was interrupted in mid-sentence when Daisy dragged her body even closer to him until she could lay her cheek against his shoulder. Now she was close enough that her scent was the only thing Taylor could smell, and that motivated him to change the photo.

Most were about her and Claudia, with them visiting somewhere in town or having coffee near campus. Daisy seemed excited to review the moments, despite always finding a flaw for every possible photo. In fairness, Taylor soon understood the insecurity: She would surreptitiously ask for compliments and oh, he was more than ready to give that kind of attention! He commented on her different clothes and hairstyles, as well as her fur appearing shorter than usual. The more she talked about the details, the more he noticed how different Daisy was back then. Even though she looked relatively the same, she had dark circles under her eyes and appeared to be constantly tired. Not that the Daisy of now wasn't too. It was just… different, somehow.

Taylor's heart raced again as he changed photos, his mouth almost agape.

Nothing could have prepared him to suddenly feel so much.

Daisy pulled away from his shoulder as soon as he turned to face her with the biggest smile he could muster, his tail thumping the floor like a drum.

"How many months were you?'

"I think about five..."

"Only that?? But your belly is already huge!"

"Yours would be too if you had four creatures inside you!"

Taylor barely heard the answer, his eyes glued to the photo. The Daisy over there looked kind of uncomfortable, and according to the Daisy next to him who kept talking (you should have been paying more attention, Taylor), it was because it took Claudia a long time to convince her to take that one off. Daisy apparently didn't like pictures very much, but Taylor loved them... even more when they were of his fiancee.

His brain and heart still hadn't calmed down. It was one thing to have the notion that Daisy had been pregnant once. It was quite another to actually see it. The penny was usually slow to sink in for Taylor. He knew things, however, his brain didn't process them as something real. He didn't even fully understand that they're going to get married soon!

So that photo made the pregnancy real.

He felt so excited and passionate, in a way that was even difficult for him to understand and express.

He felt equally sad too.

"I found my new favorite picture." Ignoring that last part, he gave Daisy's cheek a quick lick.

"Are you sure? I would choose the next one if I were you."

At an insanely fast speed, he switched the photo on his paw.

"Oh no..." He whispered, his voice almost breaking from the sudden urge for his eyes to water. Daisy laughed beside him.

"I imagined you'd like this one~"

He might be being dramatic, but Taylor was pretty sure he would actually cry if he said a word. Instead, he continued analyzing every little detail of the image. The Daisy over there was smiling even more tiredly, her ears flat and fur ruffled. It made sense, judging by how she was on a maternity bed.

However, the part he couldn't stop staring at was the four fur balls on her lap. He was so used to seeing the wolves agitated and overgrown that he could barely make them out here. They all still had their eyes closed and fur much darker, with small, flat ears. Gabriel (was that Gabriel? Yes, yes) was yawning, huddled for warmth among his siblings.

"Daisy...." After much effort, it was all that came out of Taylor's mouth.

"That's why it took me a while to show you, I knew you would act like this!" There was no rancor in her voice, quite the contrary. She ran her hand down his back, her smile still plastered to her face.

"You never told me about the day they were born."

"No?"

"No."

Daisy grunted softly, shrugging.

"Errr.... It's not a very nice story, y'know? I think it's for the best if you imagine it any way you want."

Taylor's eyes returned to the photo:

"I'd like to hear it, if you want to tell me.'

"All right... Look, you know how pregnancy between herbivores and carnivores works. It's like any other species, but twice as bad. They were planned to be born in December and.. This photo was taken in September."

"What happened?" Taylor was already worried.

"Briefly? I almost died. They almost died. But everything worked out, so this picture exists."

"Daisy, I didn't... I had no idea..."

"Great! It's not something I like to remember either, you know?" She laughed awkwardly to lighten the moment.

Taylor's throat was dry. That didn't stop him from continuing:

"I don't even know what I would do if I were there!"

Yeah, saying it out loud only made him sadder. Dumb dog!

"You would go from the maternity ward straight to the hospital, that's it! Not to make it worse, but I barely got to see them at first.... Or spend the nights in the maternity ward. They were so small and fragile and.... They had to stay in the incubator for a long time before they gained weight. I remember not being able to sleep well at night, Claudia needed to keep calming me down" Her laugh sounded even faker now, but she relaxed when Taylor wrapped her in a half hug.

What he would say would make him very sad, just like a few seconds ago. He knew it would. But he let the words out anyway:

"I so wish I had met you before" he paused to swallow hard "I would give anything .... everything .... to have seen you pregnant and gone through all this with you."

The hurt look Daisy gave him caught him off guard, as he thought he was saying something nice. He quickly analyzed his own words, realizing the mistake with despair:

"No no! Not because of that! Jeez, Daisy, I don't care 1% that they're not mine... I mean, they're mine! That's what I mean. I wouldn't change that part, I just would.... Oh, I don't know what I'm talking about, sorry!"

Daisy didn't look angry, thankfully. She buried her head in his neck, placing a small kiss on that same region:

"I wish you were there too. Everything would have been so much easier... I thought I liked being alone. I still like it! But it's also good not to be..."

From the tone she spoke, Taylor understood that she had just confessed to something big. Something she now trusted him well enough to know. Nothing seemed fairer than compensating for it by confessing something too:

"These two photos will definitely stay in our room! I loved it so much... But... Would it be selfish to say that they also make me feel bad for not being there?"

"This was not your fault!"

"Yeah, but it frustrates me anyway! Like I said, this has nothing to do with me not being their biological father! It doesn't change anything at all, but I can't stop thinking about how I missed their first two years of life... I wish I had met you when you were pregnant... Or whatever."

"Hey, it doesn't matter! We're together now, aren't we?"

"Yes... Yes, it's stupid, sorry" He turned his head to the side, not wanting her to see the expression that was on his face.

"It's not stupid!" Daisy sighed, pulling away from him. "Don't you think I would rather not have gone through all that shit alone and end up here again? Damn, I... I think I'm taking it out on you... It's not you I'm mad at, okay?

Taylor nodded, sighing at the turn the conversation had taken.

"On second thought, maybe it was for the best that I wasn't there" Then he shrugged, recovering the energy and good mood he didn't even have at the moment. "It's like you said, I don't even know if I could be there without stopping at the hospital. If this picture almost made me cry, imagine that!"

"Oh, you're right," Daisy laughed, giving him a very light punch. "I admit that I cried as well..."

"They were so little, love! Tiny little fur balls! Did you want me to hold you and not feel all the love in the world?"

"You would certainly have worried throughout the pregnancy, thinking it was wrong even when I walked and stuffing myself with blankets. And with the puppies then? You would be those overprotective parents who would be afraid to hold them."

"Don't you think I'm an overprotective father these days?"

"There's nothing that I can think of more, are you kidding!? And they even talk already."

Taylor's cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

This time, the penny dropped fast.

Such would never happen. He and Daisy couldn't have babies on their own.

It doesn't matter.

"All the photos go to my house!" He exclaimed, concluding.

"Okay, I found some clothes, that should be it."

Nodding, he tucked the photos back into the envelope, carrying it under his arm along with the watch and frame.

He was at the door, just waiting for Daisy, when he noticed that she wasn't moving. It was her turn to stop in front of the tank, her attention held by the ants:

"One thing is missing."

"Are Coutney, Clarita and the rest going too?" He couldn't help but wag his tail. "Oh, our relationship is serious-serious!"

Daisy smiled as she reached for something to unscrew the tank from the wall. This time, she didn't even try to deny it:

"It's serious-serious."

#my writing #taylor #daisy

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marshmallowsqoosh · 1 year

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[Ghost (Band) | Ritual of Summoning: Era 3 (1/5)]

Fandom: Ghost (Band) Title (also AO3 link): Ritual of Summoning: Era 3 Rating: General (May go up) CW: No major warnings apply Lesser Warnings: headcanon, not beta read, Terzo’s the youngest because the canon timeline makes no sense, author chooses to believe that Nihil didn’t hate his kids and they have given names, Ghouls are summoned via magical means, summonings involve deals with devils, author is taking a lot of liberties, Ghouls are Generational not Inherited,

Summary: Summoning era three’s Ghouls over the years... aka Terzo constantly getting in trouble for being a small, ambitious dumbass and continuing to be a small, ambitious dumbass.

A/N: The other ambitious thing to go with Pro Memoria. teeeeeentatively five chapters? Maybe more, we’ll see how many shenanigans these dumbasses want to get up to.

Still don’t have a beta reader so if you spot typos/odd spots, lemme know ♥ (I did edits in AO3, not docs, so I may have missed a few spots skreee)

Extras: Status (and AO3 link!): [ 1 / 5 ] Word Count: ~10.800

[i. ritual]

Terzo nearly trips over his nightgown in his haste and it's only the awareness that he needs to be quiet that keeps him from making any noise when he stumbles.

He manages to stay standing and stays still for a few minutes, just to make sure none of the night Ghouls wander down into the dungeon. A slow, shaky exhale escapes and he's more mindful of his steps as he moves around the… admittedly crude summoning circle. As careful as he tried to be, it's… hard to paint large circles by himself. The straight lines had been easy enough; he just needed to count his steps. He wonders if Primo knows that's why he wanted to see the summoning chamber… and maybe feels a little bad for abusing his older brother's trust.

Primo had been accommodating, despite the worried smile, when Terzo asked to read his old ritual notes. It's never been a secret that Terzo was excited by the prospect of being Papa; Secondo supported it—likely due to his own desire not to ascend in the near future, or at all, if he could avoid it. Primo's done well to uphold the role, even as his health took the beating from his own summoning rituals. His Ghouls are all… stable, despite Primo insisting that he doesn't think they were summoned correctly. He can never explain why it feels wrong… just that he knows it is. Earth's the only one he seems certain of. The only one able to communicate with humans in any capacity. The rest of the band trills and chirps and growls to communicate to each other and Earth. They can replicate… some human words; but it's mechanical, at best.

Terzo remembers trying to teach them his name—constantly being chirped at in what he can only assume is the Ghoulish equivalent of his name—until Secondo had finally picked him up and carried him off, dangling from his hip, while scolding him for being a nuisance. He would have his own Ghouls in due time, he needed to stop harassing Primo's. The only thing they needed to be focused on was the Rituals.

Earth and… the fifth one he still hasn't learned how to say… Earth calls him Quinn. Those two can speak. Earth a bit more eloquently, which really isn't saying much; but, Quinn can speak well enough to communicate when he needs something or to ask people if they're alright—usually Primo. He doesn't seem to like Terzo much. Or… anyone that isn't Primo. Terzo remembers him being the one warning against letting Terzo study the old summoning notes, even when Primo assured him things would be alright.

Maybe he was just worried about the journals being stolen… so, Terzo made a point to only read them in Primo's presence, making his own notes in a separate book, and always making sure to return the journals to Primo's desk before he ran off. Down into the old library beneath the Ministry, where the Archivist Ghoul and their helpers were, largely, kept out of sight.

There's a few… more modern Ghouls—Ghouls summoned from Papa's time and a handful Primo sanctioned, like the one that keeps running messages between Primo and the Archivist that… Primo may have told him to stop distracting from work. Terzo still makes sure to leave him chocolate bars and snacks from the kitchens, whenever he visits, maybe in hopes he can get the Ghoul to help him translate any of the older lot.

The older Ghouls—most formless or barely holding together a humanoid shape; more animalistic masks and far too many limbs—don't speak any language Terzo's ever heard, not even really Ghoulish… but, he thinks it's probably more likely they speak a really old version of Ghoulish, since no one seems to know where they came from or how they survive without summoners or masks. Secondo and even Papa always told him that the Archive Ghouls didn't like humans bothering them… but, Terzo's never had a problem with them. One of them—The Archivist, the large, decrepit Ghoul that was more or less fused to a crumbling stone desk, arms too long and gangling, fingers little more than bone—always knew exactly which book he needed, just based on the notes Terzo gave him and tried to explain.

He's still not positive the Ghoul understood anything he said, but they seemed able to read, at the very least, and always sent the more mobile Ghouls—always the ancient ones, robes barely clinging to their bodie and mostly hiding their forms—to various parts of the library to bring back specific books. Books covered in dust and cobweb, but well cared for by the Ghouls in the archives.

The text was largely illegible, but the large Ghoul always made a point to show him what he can only assume are summoning circles from their time. Summoning circles that… don't quite match up to the Ministry's. Sigils he recognises, but no one really seems to know what they mean, in different parts of the circle. The ingredients, at least, use the shorthand symbols and he's grateful… and confused.

He remembers the confused murmur that spread through the archives when he asked why none of the Rituals he's seen had blood listed as an ingredient. He knows there's a symbol for it. Primo's Rituals had involved blood, so had Papa's, so had those before them and most of the current summoners. When he tried to show the transcribed notes for what Primo had done, the large Ghoul had simply run a very pointed, sharp finger tip, coated in ink, through the blood to cross it out and gently returned the paper.

He wants to tell Primo. Maybe they can reverse whatever the Rituals have done to him if they figure out how summoning should be.

No blood. Everything else had been correct, ingredient-wise, so far as he can tell. The only things wrong were… the blood and the misplaced sigils. For now, he follows what he was given—as best he can with the limited space of the dungeon—and hums to himself as he sets up the last few candles. A few of the words slip out as he's humming, just so he's certain he knows the summoning incantation. When he glances down at his hand, there's a tiny cut on his thumb… he doesn't see any blood and kind of remembers a short burst of pain when he set the sulphur down… and then again when he lit the last candle. It doesn't even look blistered, so he ignores it and carefully makes his way back to the front of the circle, looking over his work one more time before he takes a deep breath and starts the incantation.

He doesn't mean to sing. Or, maybe he does. It makes it easier to remember the words, at least; makes it more fun and easier to ignore the light throbbing starting to build around his left eye.

Easier until, as the last words leave his lips, the candles go out and he instinctively crouches down, covering his head when he hears a rumble spread through the dungeon, far too much like thunder rolling in for a storm. It doesn't occur to him, for probably a solid fifteen or so seconds, that it should be impossible for him to hear thunder in the dungeon and he cautiously lowers his hands to look around. Some of the candles are still list—the ones at the five points, but not the cluster offering fire. It doesn't help him see much. Everything looks darker and, it's only as he's sweeping another glance around the room, that he finally realises it's… like a thick fog. Fog that's gathering, thicker and thicker, in the center of the summoning circle until a large figure is looming there. A thick fog that's large enough Terzo has to tilt his head up just to find a pair of golden eyes following him.

Aren't you a most curious child.

The voice echoes off the walls around him and makes him jump. Tension shoots through his body as he waits for a sign someone's coming down to check on the noise and realises he's in a lot of trouble if it's one of the ranking clergy members. He'd be in trouble if it were a Ghoul, too, but… the sudden realisation it could be his brother or Sister Imperator is… maybe making him reconsider if this is a good idea.

Fret not, little one. I've ensured no one can interrupt us. Now… why have you summoned me?

Later, Terzo might realise he should question the entity a lot more. That he should probably question why he feels the lull of safety around him, even as he's seated on the cold floor of the dungeon, just shy of midnight—or perhaps midnight passed while he was singing, he's not positive. The eyes… almost look Ghoul-like. He's never seen a Ghoul this big though… and that would be unfortunate if it were his friend.

"I… are… you my friend?" The large head tips towards him in a curious gesture and Terzo realises he didn't answer the question. "I want a friend… like Primo's and the ones in the big library—archives. Primo called them archives."

The laugh that leaves the shadow is a booming echo that nearly makes Terzo fall over, even though he's sitting. He manages to stay sitting up, more confused than he was a moment ago. He doesn't even have the mind to be afraid when a large hand—easily bigger than him, bigger than either of his brothers; the smallest digit may roughly be the same size as his brothers—comes down and the tip of a claw taps the corner of his left eye. The dull pain amplifies for a short burst; but, he manages not to squeeze his eye shut, instead continuing to stare up at the shadow curiously.

I am your friend, yes. Not the one you called for, though. I will bring him to you… but I must be certain you understand, little star. Terzo blinks. His family called him that. He's never heard anyone else say it, but it holds his attention. A ghoul is a very powerful weapon in the wrong hands. We grant them to you as companions and protectors… but even as they protect you, they will need your protection, for you are correct. They are not tools. They are companions—friends—first and foremost. You have called forth a very… special… friend. One of many to come, if your ambitions are to be realised. Do you understand?

It's an odd question. One Terzo… perhaps doesn't fully understand. But it seems straight forward enough and more of a reminder. Primo looks after his Ghouls. Secondo may not have liked any of the Ghouls that wandered the halls, but he didn't go out of his way to harass them, either. If anything, he helped them by carrying Terzo off, grumbling as he hoisted the eleven year old onto his hip about being too old to need reminding to let the Ghouls work. That was… some kind of protection. If Terzo has his own friend to look after, he won't need to bother Primo's or any of the staff.

So, he just nods, enthusiastically. "I'll take the best care of him!"

The laugh is a bit more curious this time. Still a rumbling echo in the enclosed room; but, almost… wistful. Ancient. A sound lost as the fog begins to let up.

Magnificent. I have the grandest of expectations for the both of you and those to come.

He wants to ask about those to come—he knows he'll need a full band, eventually, but it sounds like the shadow already knows who they are. Could he have them now—?

Almost immediately, Terzo's focus is past the fog and on the figure that sits up from the center of the summoning circle that's… being devoured by the ground, leaving no evidence of the ritual behind. He only stares at it for a few seconds—finally realises why the giant summoning circle was designed into the floor, why it needed to be painted over before every ritual—before he finally turns his undivided attention to the Ghoul sitting in what was the middle of the circle, ears and tail flickering about curiously as he looks around.

He's more… solid than Terzo was expecting. Less void than he's seen around the Ministry. Maybe because his ingredients were more accurate? He's also smaller—probably as big as Terzo is—but that seems… correct. He remembers Primo having notes about Ghouls "maturing", like humans but faster.

He doesn't question it long. The second the Ghoul finally looks at him—shockingly human-like, green eyes blinking at him, curious and a little dazed—Terzo completely forgets everything else and happily closes the short distance to throw his arms around the Ghoul's neck, hugging tight for a brief moment before he lets go so he can hurry off to the desk he's been storing supplies in over the past couple of weeks. Ingredients and chalk and paint and, most importantly, clothes. He still needs to figure out how to get a mask… but he can worry about that later.

For now, he hurries back over, careful not to trip over himself and holds an extra nightgown out to the Ghoul.

"You must be the special friend! Oh, you're perfect! My name's Valentino—oh—wait, no, I'm supposed to use the Ministry's name… oh! Terzo! I'm Terzo! Do you have a name? Oh—we're going to be best friends, I'm going to take the best care of you, I promise!"

He's perhaps somewhat aware of the fact the Ghoul is… different. His eyes don't match other Ghouls; but, to be fair… Terzo's never seen a Ghoul unmasked. Maybe they did just look more human without the masks. The void is less… shadowy. More ashen, more solid, with splotches that almost look flesh coloured. He still just blinks at Terzo for a moment longer, attention transfixed on Terzo's mouth before he finally tries to speak.

"Spe… cial? Special? … Special." He tries speaking a few more times, simply repeating his name to himself as he looks over the gown he's handed, looking between the gown and the one Terzo's wearing before he finally seems to figure out how to put it on.

Like Terzo's, the sleeves fall past his hands and he frowns down at them for a moment. The green eyes start to shift to gold and orange—more like the Ghouls Terzo sees around the Ministry; more like Fire Ghoul's, specifically, if not a little more gold in the left eye—before Terzo reaches over, gently rolling the sleeves back, the same way Secondo does for him. When he looks again, Special's eyes are green, and human-like, again and he… has to assume he's simply tired and imagining the eyes changed.

"Special? Oh, I guess he was introducing you, then. That was polite of him!" It's only then Terzo really stops to consider that… he has no idea who—or what, really—the giant shadow was. But, the excitement and adrenaline is leaving him and he simply holds Special's hand, tight in his own, and helps lead him towards the stairs. "C'mon. It's really late. … Huh. Do Ghouls sleep?"

"Sleep… rest?" He's still testing his voice and range of vocabulary. It's giving Terzo tiny bursts of energy where he desperately wants to stay up. But, he still puts a finger to his mouth as they get closer to the top of the stairs, hoping Special understands to be quiet, until they're safely back in his room. He doesn't normally lock his door… but, he doesn't want to startle the Ghoul if his brothers wake him up in the morning. Special watches him closely, unblinking and tiny trills emitting from his throat as Terzo moves around his room, pulling extra pillows from his closet to set on his bed before he climbs onto the mattress, patting the large open space next to him.

"I guess it's probably a good thing they haven't gone down from a full yet… it's too big for just me. So you can sleep up here, too!" He barely fights down the excited squeal building in his throat when Special complies to sitting next to him; it doesn't stop him from hugging the Ghoul tight around the neck again. "Even if you don't sleep, rest is good for you! Frate Primo's Ghouls always need rest after they perform… I think they sleep when he does."

Of course… now he's starting to realise he's going to be in a lot of trouble for summoning a Ghoul. Specifically without supervision, never mind leaving him unmasked. But the need for sleep—the excitement gradually starting to aid the exhaustion instead of feeding him more adrenaline—is finally taking over and he yawns, falling down into his pillows without worrying about his blankets. Special pushes up against him, snuggling into his hold once more.

"You're nice and warm… m'so glad you're the friend I got."

He more feels than hears the approving purr. A soft vibration that comes from the Ghoul's chest as he nudges his head up under Terzo's chin and latches on. He's not sure the Ghoul sleeps; but, Terzo gets probably the best night of sleep he's had in months.

[ii. mask]

Terzo's not really sure how he gets away with hiding Special as long as he does.

Copia asks, a few times, if he's alright and Terzo just blinks up at the priest, not really sure how to answer past confusion, every single time.

"Uh… yes? Why wouldn't I be…? I'm going to my room, I'll be back for dinner!"

He hears Secondo telling the man to leave him to his own devices. Normally, he might be a bit more upset—he barely got to spend any time with his brothers and he feels a little bad, because Copia tries to make up for it by spending time with him… it's gotten harder since he officially started his priesthood. Secondo's begun his tertiary schooling around the Ministry. Still no inclination to ascend; but Terzo's seen him working with the human security and staff on… he's not really sure what. His brothers usually did their best to keep him from finding out too much.

When he gets up to his room, he's not too surprised to find it empty and just sweeps a quick look around—and up and down the hall outside his room—before he finally closes and locks his door. He's not surprised, anymore, when he gets knocked to the floor by Special dropping from the ceiling and just laughs, hugging the Ghoul as tight as he can.

"Welcome home?" Special's getting better at talking. He still trips over a few words, but he's picking up on them quickly. Almost faster than Earth did, so far as Terzo can tell. He just hugs tighter.

"Mm-hmm! Thank you. I hope you weren't too bored?"

"Not bored. Practiced. See?" Special hasn't quite mastered walking on two legs yet. Not that Terzo makes too much of an effort to correct him prowling around, but he is kind of starting to realise he should probably be more focused on that. Maybe.

He dusts his uniform down as he stands and follows Special over to the desk, watching around his shoulder as he flips through one of the spare notebooks and finally lays it open, flat, on the desk. Despite wringing his hands and the way his ears slant back a little, his tail is still flickering about, quite proudly. Still a little shaky but a lot better than when he first tried to copy Terzo's handwriting.

"You're getting better at this so quickly… is that a Ghoul ability or is that you?" Terzo finally climbs into his chair so he can start his homework… but, his attention still stays on Special, much more interested in the answer than anything he should be doing.

Special just blinks at him and hums a little. "Uhm... not sure? Might be Ghoul. Probably Ghoul? Ask?"

"I wouldn't know who to ask… you and Earth are the only two that can talk—well. Quinn can. Kind of. I think? Primo doesn't let me talk to him too much. He says it's stressful." Terzo sighs and starts digging his books from his bag. "I guess I get it… his rituals were really rough… according to Frate."

"Frate… Frate? … Francesco." Terzo laughs a little and reaches over to pat Special on the head—is extra pleased it earns a delighted purr and the Ghoul pushing up against his hand insistently.

"That's right, but you're not supposed to use the name mama gave him. We have to call him Secondo around the church."

"Just us, though?" Special looks confused and Terzo looks down at his desk, thinking on it a bit more. Or trying to. It's been a few weeks and, as every day passes, he realises how much he didn't actually think through before he summoned Special. The idea of Sister Imperator finding out about Special, now, is almost solely responsible for Terzo not going to anyone for help with a mask, yet, even when he knows he needs to. Or… he thinks he does. Special's actually been holding up… really well without a mask so far, even though everyone made it sound like their contracts were largely reliant on the masks.

"Just us… … I'm sorry I summoned you alone. I know Ghouls need a friend so they aren't lonely—" A squeak of protest escapes when the Ghoul suddenly hugs him, tight, and stubbornly pushes his face against Terzo's shoulder. "Special—?"

"Not sorry. Not sorry. Not lonely. Have friend. Have Vale. Don't want anyone else."

He's not sure where Special learned the nickname. He doesn't think he's ever said it… and Secondo was generally the only one that shortened his name like that. Primo never used their given names—not that Terzo's ever heard, anyways. He doesn't dwell on it too long, instead hugging back as tight as he can when he's already trapped in a hug himself.

"We'll always be together. I know I can't spend all of my time with you—but when I'm not at school, it'll always be us. Always and forever. Promise."

"Even when there's others?" Special doesn't sound scared or sad. Curious. He's heard Terzo talk about the band and what would eventually happen. That there would be other Ghouls. As interested as he was, he never sounded particularly desperate for the companionship of more Ghouls or jealous, thankfully.

Terzo nods. "Even when the others exist. You'll always be my best friend."

Special makes a small, keening trill in his throat and finally releases Terzo from the hug so he can settle by the desk, head resting against Terzo's leg and breath leveling out to a steady, sleepy rhythm, so Terzo can finish his homework. The sooner he does, the sooner they can play.

Except, as he's finishing up, Special suddenly sits up, his ears alert and attention fixed on the door. He's under the bed before Terzo actually realises what he's doing and jumps when his door handle rattles. He hears the annoyed sigh on the other side and flinches, quickly sliding down from his chair and running to open his door. He does his best not to shrink under the reprimanding stare and offers an apologetic, albeit nervous, smile, "S-sorry, Sister. I forgot I locked it—"

"That's the fourth time this week, Terzo. I won't remind you again that your door is not to be locked, especially if you're going to be deaf to the Ghouls trying to get your attention by knocking."

That… doesn't sound right. Special would have reacted to the knocking. But, he knows he can't just tell her that to prove she's lying, especially when it was only Wednesday and she rarely gave him more than two warnings before involving his father. So he just scuffs his toes against his carpet and nods a little.

"Yes, ma'am…"

"Good. Now, come along or you'll miss supper again."

He waits until the woman walks away to scowl and finally closes his door again so he can change into something that isn't his uniform. He sees Special's tail—just the tip—peeking out from under the bed and smiles a little as he's pulling on a light sweater and pants. He needs to get back into the habit of changing as soon as he gets home… it's getting colder outside and someone is going to notice—if they haven't already—that he isn't changing into warmer clothes immediately, like he normally would in the fall. Not cold enough he needs to bundle up… but cold enough his uniform usually isn't all that warm in the mornings or early in the evenings when people come to gather him for supper.

It's really hard to remember he's cold when Special runs so warm.

Instead of dwelling on the thought for too long, though, Terzo kneels down by his bed, giving the tail tip a gentle poke and giggling when it immediately retracts under the bed and, a moment later, Special pokes his head out with a quiet chirp. "I have to go to supper, so you behave, okay? I'll try to bring you something up… if not, I can get it after everyone goes to bed, okay?"

"Apple?"

Terzo smiles and leans to give his Ghoul a gentle kiss on each horn. He finds it… maybe curious the horns are so small. Small enough to be hidden in his hair, when Terzo kind of always assumed that Ghoul horns were… bigger.

"I'll try. Be back soon!"

He knows he needs to hurry, otherwise Imperator will withhold supper.

Thankfully, he gets down to the table before the woman or his father shows up and even manages to hug Primo, his Ghouls, and Secondo before he hears the pair coming into the room and hastily climbs into his chair, legs swinging idly under the table to make it look like he's been there for a while. He's a little surprised Copia shuffles in behind them, attention fixed to… taking notes, perhaps? Terzo watches him—quietly pleased when Copia sits next to him—and tries to read over his arm until Secondo reaches over to pull on his ear—promptly earning a short, pained yelp, despite Nihil warning both of them to mind themselves—with a strict, side long look. Terzo just rubs his ear, grumbling out an apology to appease his father, because Copia really doesn't look bothered and simply sets the open book close enough that Terzo can read it, as conversation passes around the table between the older lot and more or less completely over Terzo's head.

Not for the first time, he realises that none of Primo's Ghouls stay seated. Most of them move away from the table when Nihil and Imperator enter the room, standing with their arms folded behind them, backs to the wall closest to his oldest brother, attention fixed firmly ahead. Earth stands a little bit closer—still not at the table, but close enough he can lean down to relay translations of the quiet trills that leave his band mates.

Terzo pushes at his food, aimlessly, when he's eaten half of it, attention wandering to watching the Ghouls and trying to figure out how he's going to get Special fitted for a mask without getting himself or Special in trouble.

"Are you full, Terzo?"

He looks up, suddenly aware of everyone's attention on him, and only just stops himself from sinking under the table. "Oh. Uhm… yeah, kinda. … Could I just take it up to my room? I won't spill anything, I promise!"

Nihil looks like he might be considering conceding—or commenting on the fact Terzo's barely touched anything, despite clearing half the plate—but, true to form, Imperator gets the first word in.

"It's bad enough you've taken to locking your door. We'll not be indulging this string of rule breaking you've taken to."

As much as Terzo wants to protest—he starts to, fully intending to just point out that he isn't hungry yet and he'll definitely end up eating it before bed, even if he does just give it to Special—it just starts a new argument and he quickly ducks his head, fingers twisted in the hem of his sweater, tightly, to keep from covering his ears and just waits for it to pass. Secondo's at least taking some consideration to the fact they're seated together and not yelling; but, it doesn't stop him from immediately sassing the woman. Or stop her from getting Papa involved. Prompting Secondo to pull Primo into the "conversation" in an attempt to diffuse it before words get worse.

Terzo jumps when he feels a gentle tap against his arm and Copia spares him a nervous smile. "Go on upstairs. I'm on clean up tonight, I'll set something aside or make you something, okay?"

Terzo nods, quickly, and mouths a quiet thank you before he slides down and escapes from the steadily escalating volume—how he knows his brothers even noticed him leaving the table—and back up to his room before the anxiety gets any worse. He sighs when he's safely in the stillness of his bedroom, leaning back on the closed door and sliding down to the floor so he can hug his knees. He doesn't jump when Special sits next to him and instead just leans into his side, head resting on the Ghoul's shoulder, "Sorry. Sister wouldn't let me bring my plate upstairs."

Special just trills, quietly, and nuzzles gently at Terzo's shoulder, tail winding around his ankle in what he's learning to be an offer of comfort. "Not hungry… Vale ate enough?"

"Yeah… they always fill my plate way too much. Copia said I could go down for something later. Hopefully he lets me bring something back up." He finally raises his head, looking back up towards his door handle. "… I can't keep locking the door. You can hear people coming really good, right?" Special nods, his ears twitching and wiggling to accentuate his confirmation. "… I should probably tell my brothers, at least… maybe if we get you masked, they won't be as mad. I don't want you to get hungry during the day… and you need room to run around."

The Ghoul just stares at him, head tilting to accentuate the blank look in confusion. "Not hungry. No run. Only play and watch."

"Yeah, but if you can run around, we can play in other places. Bigger places. Like outside! The cemetery is really nice."

"Ceme… tery...?" He tries the word a few times until he can say it and promptly prowls over to the desk—Terzo's again reminded they need to work on him walking upright—and climbs up, pointing out the window, towards the crypt, just barely visible at the edge of the property, with the dying lawn lights and lanterns. "Cemetery?"

"Mm-hmm. The building is a crypt, but that whole part of the grounds is the cemetery. Frate Primo says all the past Papas are kept in the crypt, when they pass on to the next life; and then other members are buried in the surrounding plots. … I think. There might be a few are actually kept in the Ministry… there's urns on the ground floor, after all, I just kinda always assumed they were important people." He finally stands and moves to sitting at his desk, staring down blankly at the last few math problems he probably should have—and could have—finished before supper. He doesn't want to, now.

Now he's just stupidly focused on keeping his father or Imperator from taking Special away when they inevitably find out he exists.

"… Maybe… maybe Copia will know what to do." He hears Special give a curious chirp and just smiles, reaching over to skritch around his ear, fondly, before gently ushering his Ghoul off the desk. "You have to promise to be nice to him. Okay?"

"Be nice." He knows the words are simply being parroted back to him; but, he still hopes things go well and hopefully Copia will have an idea of how to broach the subject with at least Primo or the smiths… maybe he'll work up to telling Papa and Imperator after Special has a chance to acclimate to the mask and socialise a bit more with people that aren't Terzo.

He still waits a few hours—just for good measure—before he chances leaving his room. Special wriggles off to hide under his bed, twice, when his brothers come to check on him. Secondo ruffles his hair, muttering a quiet apology before he kisses his forehead and says good night. Primo checks on him not long after and, for a moment, Terzo wonders if he knows about Special, as his attention keeps drifting, curiously, towards Terzo's bed. He doesn't say anything about a Ghoul, just reminds him that he can ask the kitchen staff for smaller portions if he's not going to eat much during meals. Earth helps him back to his own room; but, even he casts a curious look towards the bed.

That probably would have been a good time to ask what to do… instead, Terzo's wandering down to the kitchens around nine—mostly to get a bottle of water for each of them… and try to figure out how to cut an apple with a knife, without getting caught, so he doesn't get in more trouble if Sister Imperator or his father comes down to the kitchen again.

He's so focused on that he completely forgets why he even waited so long… until a voice behind him actually makes him jump and, in the process, drop both of the water bottles he was holding.

"Terzo, what o—oh! Sorry—sorry, I thought you knew I was here!"

He flusters, just a little, as he turns, hands fisted tightly inside his sweater sleeves, even as he lets out a slow, breath of relief. "Oh… it's just you—I mean—just you and not my brothers, not—I… I wasn't trying to be rude…"

Copia waves him off, confused as he picks up the water bottles and hands them back. "I was beginning to wonder if you were coming down for more food. What would you like?"

He... maybe forgot Copia even offered to make him a second meal. "Oh, I'm not… too terribly hungry… but if you're down here you can cut apples for me! … I'm not allowed to use the knives. … Or the apple cutter."

He gets why but it's still annoying when he just wants a snack and has to find a Ghoul or clergy member to help him so he doesn't get in trouble for being… maybe a little clumsy.

"... I suppose that makes sense. Pick an apple—why on earth do you need two?" The man's brow furrows. "Terzo, if you're that hungry, I can make you something more filling."

"Only one's for me." He probably should have thought about how to bridge this a bit more thoroughly. "… If I show you something, will you promise not to tell my brothers or Papa? Or Sister Imperator?"

Copia just blinks at him, sighing as he moves to grab the apple slicer and the two apples from Terzo. "Just admit you want two apples."

"But… I don't. I mean, I do, but I'm only going to eat one." At least he cuts both of them. He holds the plate out of Terzo's reach before he can grab it.

"Is this for Chalk? The Archivist? Didn't Papa Emeritus tell you to stop bothering them?"

"I don't bother them!" He doesn't think he does, anyways. He still flusters, his cheeks heating up a little in embarrassment for his own outburst. "I… I don't bother them. And it's not for them. … He's in my room."

"... Very well. I will carry the plate, just show me who you're trying to give this to."

Terzo wants to protest one of the apples is supposed to be his… but, he also remembers Special hasn't eaten since breakfast, so… he'd probably benefit from two apples. He keeps one hand fisted, tightly, in Copia's cassock as he pulls him along. There isn't any further conversation until they get up to Terzo's room—Terzo looking up and down the hallway for good measure, before he pushes Copia in and closes his door. He starts to lock it, only to pause and sigh.

If he does, Sister Imperator is almost definitely going to show up… she's probably going to show up just because he convinced Copia to break the rules.

A shrill swear breaks his thoughts and he quickly turns around, putting a finger to his lips and shushing the priest insistently.

"Shhh! You're gonna get both of us in trouble!" He sighs and goes to stand next to Special, passing him one of the water bottles before he hugs his arm, tightly. "This is Special! Special, this is Priest Copia… I told you to be nice to him, remember?"

Special blinks a few times, looking between both humans before he trills and parrots the words again. "Be nice. … Has apple."

When Copia doesn't immediately hand the plate over, Special just stares at him, unblinking for a short stretch before deciding he doesn't want to wait. He takes the plate himself, his tail swishing happily behind him as he totters off to the desk.

"Don't eat the plate!" One of the kitchen staff is going to start noticing the missing dishes if he keeps this up; but, Terzo just turns a nervous smile up at Copia, who simply… watches after the Ghoul. "You're… you're not going to tell anyone, right? Not yet, at least! I just… I want to get him a mask before I tell Papa… cuz… cuz then maybe they won't take him away…? … I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

"Trou—how long has he been here!?" Copia's struggling to keep his voice down and Terzo feels an unsteady twist in his gut and something cold in his chest. Foreign. He winces and rubs, gingerly at the spot, breathing a little bit heavier; even when Copia's attention immediately turns to that, Terzo's struggling to figure out where the awful feeling came from.

"Are you alright—?"

It takes Terzo a moment to figure out what happens—Copia pulls his hand away, sharply, and quickly backs up, as Special more or less materialises between them, crouched down with his fangs bared. Terzo moves before he even thinks about what he's doing, the second he realises Special is growling at the priest. There's a brief moment of pain, but he just holds Special tighter and squeezes his eyes shut against the pain. The awful feeling in his chest is getting worse and his arm hurts, but he still hugs as tight as he can.His arm hurts so bad—

"It's okay… it's okay, he's not mean, Special… you have to be nice to him." Special's writhing and whimpering in distressed high pitches. It almost sounds like he's saying help in his attempts to get away. When Terzo finally manages to open his eyes, he realises his arm is bleeding and he's feeling… dizzy. He stumbles, a little, when he releases Special, struggling to process what happened.

Special has both hands over his mouth—he looks terrified. Copia catches his shoulders before he falls. He thinks he's telling Special to go find Water—or a Water Ghoul. He's not even sure Special knows which Ghouls are which—never mind how to navigate the Ministry. He tries to say as much but the dizziness is getting worse… and worse… and worse until he finally blacks out.

When he wakes back up, he's on his bed. His brothers and father are next to him. His ears feel stuffy… but he hears muffled shrieking and his chest hurts again. Hurts enough to pull a quiet, painful groan out of him as he tries to squirm away from whoever is holding his arm. Papa brushes his hair back, shushing him gently.

"Do not try to move, stellino. Let Water finish treating your arm."

The trill sounds far away, even as he confirms the Ghoul is sitting on his free side, holding his arm and pulling… what looks suspiciously like a thick stream of void from his arm.

"Wh… what ha—" Special. He sits up, ignores that Water makes a short, surprised screech as he's knocked off the bed, and immediately curls over his arm, breathing heavier and gripping his arm as tightly to his body as he can to try subduing the sudden rush of pain. "Special—where's Special, I want Special—"

He refuses to be laid back into pillows until Secondo finally comes over to help, kneeling and muttering close to his ear to let them treat his arm, first.

"Special—I assume your unmasked friend… is fine. You can have him as soon as Water finishes your arm. But you have to lie down and let him treat you, alright?"

His chest still hurts. But he nods a little and lets his brother lower him back into the pillows. Breathing hurts. He whimpers when Water jostles the bed as he sits on it, when he moves his arm again… and the pain simply dissipates as he begins running… very liquid-like hands over his arm and pulling the void again. His arm doesn't hurt anymore. His chest still feels tight, his throat threatening to close, even as he manages a meek apology for knocking the Ghoul off his bed a moment earlier.

His attention wanders around the room, as he waits… until it finally finds Quinn and Earth a few feet away, trying to hold a smaller Ghoul still as they thrash and screech—

Secondo catches him—a heavy hand in the center of his chest—before he can sit up again. Water tenses, tail lashing back and forth nervously and his attention broken as he waits to see if he's going to be pushed again; but Terzo merely grinds his teeth together, unable to sit up against his brother and once again hit like a freight train by the pain in his arm. He lets out a shaky breath when the pain disappears again and he's certain the Ghoul is working again.

"Wh-what are they doing to Special, are they hurting him, why is he being held down—?"

"He's been thrashing since we put the mask on him. How you managed to keep him unmasked for however long… he's not taking well to it." Secondo watches the scene before he sighs and looks back down at Terzo; he promptly, pointedly, looks away so he doesn't have to meet the disappointed look. "What were you thinking? You know Ghouls aren't toys and Rituals are dangerous."

Terzo doesn't answer. Instead he starts squirming on the bed—as best he can with Water still holding his arm and Secondo keeping him lying down.

"There's no need to scold him right now—"

"Leniency is why he even thought to try this!" He doesn't want them to argue—well. He doesn't really care if they do. Papa always seemed alright—proud, even—with Secondo getting snappy. Terzo hates it. His chest feels tighter and he just squeezes his eyes shut as tight as he can, quietly hoping Water finishes quickly.

He doesn't understand how Ghoul treatments work, too well… but the fact Water gives a concerned noise a moment later is… maybe a little scary. He hears the Ghoul trilling something, back towards Quinn and Earth.

"He—ow—says the void is thicker—child, will you kindly stop thrashing—!"

He's never heard Earth so annoyed. When he opens his eyes, sure enough, Special's writhing even more than he was before, trying to pull himself free of the older Ghouls. He isn't scrabbling at the mask… he's trying to get purchase to get away.

"I want Special—" He stops fighting, for the short stretch of Terzo talking; he struggles more when the words stop and Terzo tries again. "I want Special."

"Vale, for the last time—"

"No." Primo interrupts this time. Terzo hears him mutter an aside to their father, but can't make anything out past a quiet please. "Earth. Quinn. Will you bring the little one to the bed, please? Terzo, can you tell him to calm down, so they can?"

He's not sure it'll work, but, Special seems to be reacting to his voice at least. "Special?" He goes still again and Quinn takes the chance to pick him up, in those few seconds. "It's okay… Earth and Quinn are really nice, they're just tryna help, so's Water—you promised to be nice, remember, don't give them trouble—" He isn't positive what he says—anything that comes to mind, anything that keeps him talking—but, sure enough, it keeps Special calm, long enough for Quinn to deposit him at the end of the bed without any injury.

For a few seconds, Special stays perched on the tips of his toes and fingers, arched and hunched in on himself, tightly, like an agitated cat, like he's waiting for Water to try restraining him next. But, the moment passes and he slowly crawls forward, careful not to disrupt the other Ghoul and he flattens himself to the bed, once he's close enough to wrap both arms around Terzo as tight as he can.

"Sorry—didn't mean to, wasn't trying to hurt—"

His voice echoes and he sees Water's ears twitch and flicker, his grip on Terzo's arm tightening for a brief moment like he's in pain, before he relaxes again. He doesn't feel the cool stream of water trying to wash the void away anymore; but, his arm doesn't hurt this time. Instead, Terzo just lets out a slow breath and relaxes as best he can with the awkward position his right arm is caught in—stretched out so Water can try to treat him, but trapped under Special's weight so he can cling and Terzo can get his free arm around him.

"I know you didn't. You wouldn't hurt me. But you can't hurt other people, either." He's still not sure what triggered the growling. He's still not sure about the awful feeling in his chest but that's slowly leaving, too. It feels… more like guilt…?

"Scared." Muffled. He almost doesn't hear the word; but, he still hums and hugs his Ghoul tighter, as best he can. "Vale scared. Protect. Supposed to protect, not hurt, didn't mean to hurt—"

He wants to say he's not scared anymore. He wasn't scared before—at least, he doesn't think he was. But, he's still tired. He hopes they wait to let him explain.

[iii. Special]

There's a short burst of tension when Terzo falls asleep before the collective breath of relief fills the room. Secondo rubs at his face, irritably, throwing an angry scowl towards their father.

"This is exactly why I've said he shouldn't have had anything to do with the Rituals or Ghouls when he was younger. He should have been learning the dangers, not being left with them as babysitters!"

If any of the present Ghouls are offended, they don't let onto it. Earth moves over to Primo's shoulder, while Quinn warily stays at Water's, keeping an eye on the pair and offering what little support he can with proximity.

"Ghouls are only so dangerous as their Rituals and… Terzo's clearly figured something out that we didn't." Primo hopes he's speaking loud enough. He exchanges a look with their father, taking in the exaggerated aging the Rituals abused his body with and knowing his body is suffering just as direly. Terzo… doesn't look any worse for wear, save the sleeve of void on his arm that Water hasn't been able to clean off entirely, despite the stretch of time. "… Secondo, if you aren't going to be calm about this, then I will be asking you to leave the room. If you've energy to burn through, I strongly suggest going to tell the Arch-Bishops and Cardinal that Priest Copia had nothing to do with this. Interrogating him is not going to solve anything."

Secondo glowers for a short moment before he finally bites out a curse under his breath and storms out, with only a passing look of worry back towards the bed. Some of the tension in the room finally lets up; Water relaxes and returns his focus to trying to wash the void from Terzo's arm with tiny, frustrated trills. Primo settles, heavily, in the arm chair. He's further from the bed, but it's the only other place to sit without crowding the bed further. He can still see, at least; but, he knows that their father should be closest and is occupying the only other chair—pulled over from Terzo's desk—so he can be close and stroke Terzo's hair back, occasionally touching the back of his hand to the boy's forehead, with a furrowed look.

He doesn't look to be in pain. A bit paler than normal and remarkably warm for his normal body temperature… perhaps the void is infecting him—?

"Help." Everyone's attention turns back to the bed. The little Ghoul—Special? An odd name, but… not terribly surprising, given Terzo's involvement—is trying to squirm free of Terzo's grip. He doesn't sound or look distressed, soon giving up entirely and simply trying to wriggle to where he can see over Terzo's shoulder. The mask looks to be settled, finally, and a pair of bright orange eyes blinks at the rest of them. "Wanted to help priest. … Vale did. … Wasn't trying to bite him. Or the priest. Warning."

Special goes quiet, struggling with the words just as much as he's struggling to get free again. Quinn finally, cautiously, reaches around Water so he can pry gently at Terzo's arm. Just enough to get him to loosen his grip around the Ghoul and Special immediately pulls himself free, shaking off for barely a split second. It's only a split second before Terzo rolls back onto his back, a distressed whine building in his throat as he struggles to wake up again; but, Special quickly settles on his torso, tucking himself into a tight ball, like a cat, and stilling the distress once more.

Another short stretch of silence and he looks up again, watching Nihil warily for a stretch before his attention finally drifts to Primo. "I wasn't trying to bite the priest… he scared Vale. … Thought it was threat… it wasn't…. want to learn— …I want to learn. … I want to help. … Can—wait. No. … May I help?"

"Help…? With wh—you believe you can help Terzo?" Special nods, carefully sitting up. His tail flickers around behind him—small, anxious flickers—as he waits for permission. "Please. If you can assist—Water, will you let the little one help you?"

The answer is an anxious, rumbling noise deep in the Ghoul's chest—not quite a growl, but enough of one that Special starts to recoil a little. In his distraction, though, Water stops focusing on Terzo and the whine this time is one of pain.

Before Primo can warn him to stop being aggressive or Water can turn his focus back to diluting the pain on his own, Special reaches out and puts his hand over Terzo's arm, just above where the thick void stops. His eyes give off a gentle glow and the void slowly moves up Terzo's arm into Special's, leaving a black stain in its wake and exposing the bite marks. He settles back to his curled up position, head resting close to Terzo's so he can nudge and nuzzle him in comfort. With the wound exposed, Water finally manages to make progress in getting the area cleaned and Earth quickly joins him to look at the bites. Despite how deep the bite looks it… doesn't look infected. Water trills up at him, confused; Earth slowly turns his attention to Special, brows furrowed. "You… used your own void to try cleaning it?"

"... Dinnit know what else to do." Special's ears go flat, fear taking over his expression. "Did I make it worse…?"

"N… no, I—? Would you excuse us a moment? Papa, could I speak to both of you, please?" His attention goes to Quinn, briefly. "If you would, I have a first aid kit in my desk. It should be restocked, once Water manages to wash his arm of the stain, please ensure it gets wrapped properly."

Quinn tips his head a little, to show he understands, before he steps back into the shadows and vanishes. Special sits up, ears alert and tail flickering as his attention zeroes in on where the other Ghoul vanished. Water makes a warning rumble at him, again, until he finally settles again. As much as Earth… doesn't want to leave them alone he still helps Nihil and Primo stand and closes the door behind them once all three are in the hallway.

"You seem flustered, Ghoul." Nihil sounds displeased. Probably because he's left his youngest's side; but, Earth just does his best not to recoil under the pointed look.

"My apologies, I didn't want to upset the little one." He still struggles for a moment before deciding a straight forward explanation is probably his best option. "I do not know what Terzo did, but he's summoned something truly extraordinary. Ghouls… our era of Ghoul… we cannot make ourselves so malleable. Water Ghouls can get close, but to actually use his void as a temporary bandage—one thick enough a more or less feral Water Ghoul cannot break it down. And he's a Fire Ghoul? Water shouldn't have had any problem treating Terzo whatsoever."

"That sounds to be more of a flaw of your Ghoul than something Terzo's accomplished." Nihil's expression hasn't changed. Primo's falls for a brief moment and Earth feels a bristle of anger course through him; but, his summoner simply puts a gentle hand on his wrist.

"He did not mean that in malice, Earth. … That said, father. I think he may be onto something. Terzo's behaviour changed weeks ago… more than long enough for any detrimental physical effects to begin manifesting." He doesn't elaborate past a simple gesture between himself and his father. Neither of them should look so withered and weary. Secondo was right to be furious and properly terrified for Terzo's health. "This could be the start of an entirely new generation of summoning Rituals. Safer Rituals. … Copia's summoning trial is soon. Terzo needs to recover, but… Special needs a Ghoul in his own maturity, to socialise and learn and grow. Let Terzo help Copia. If he succeeds we can finally look into fixing… this."

Maybe it can't be reversed. Maybe it's too late for them but they could prepare future generations and try to make the Rituals more publicly accessible so there weren't any further trust issues endangering members of the church.

"I am inclined to agree with Secondo, on this matter. I cannot change that he has summoned the Ghoul; but, I most certainly cannot allow him to keep it."

Primo frowns. He sees Earth's eye give a small twitch and gives his wrist a gentle squeeze. "Father, you saw his reaction from simply being separated from the little Ghoul. He doesn't have anyone in his own age group to be friends with, here or at school. He went to these lengths just to have someone to spend time with. You cannot truly be suggesting banishing him."

After a stretch of silence—long enough that he can hear Quinn telling Special to mind Terzo's arm and to come find them if he's still in pain later; long enough it sounds like they're waiting for Primo to dismiss them—Nihil heaves a slow, heavy breath, as he rubs at his eyes. "I will speak to Terzo when he wakes and the Priest once I've an answer from Terzo. If this trial succeeds… he may keep the Ghoul. If it fails… I will have both of them sent back. By force if necessary."

[iv. Mountain]

Another week passes before the next summoning.

It's a closed ordeal, one Terzo can barely stay awake for. He's still recovering and working through the reprimand from his brothers and father and Sister Imperator; but, he needs to be close by for Special's sake, even if he can't focus as well as he wants to. He wants to see a Ritual done properly with what he's learned… but he's so tired.

Next to him, Special chirps quietly and nudges him, gently, with his own head to offer some form of comfort. Terzo reaches up to give his ear a gentle pet before he turns as much of his attention out to the large summoning chamber. The upper clergy is watching from above—a select handful, but enough to be worried—while Secondo and Terzo are sitting just behind Copia.

For once, Imperator's voice echoing around the chamber isn't enough to jolt Terzo to an awake state; he simply leans heavier on his brother, arm still wound tightly with Special's and their hands locked in a death grip.

"The next step of your priesthood is to prove you understand the rituals of our labours. Normally, we would allow you to choose your first Ghoul… however," The woman's voice is cold; but, it doesn't scare Terzo as much as normal. He does, at least, make an effort to sit up straight again so he doesn't invite more of the woman's ire. "Due to extenuating circumstances brought about by the youngest of the Emeritus line… your Ritual has been predetermined. To pass, you must summon an Earth Ghoul, following the steps provided by the child. We are attempting to replicate his results in a more structured environment and hopefully have a measure against the Ghoul he has summoned. If you understand, you may begin the Ritual when you are ready."

Copia doesn't look nervous, but there's still a small warble to his voice that might make Terzo a little nervous. He knows Earth wasn't supposed to tell him that he might lose Special today… he really hopes he explained well enough.

A moment of warmth washes over him as Copia nears the end of the summoning incantation and he sits up a little straighter. He feels Special go tense, next to him, his ears flickering about in radar mode as he pointedly refuses to take his eyes off the summoning circle. Before Terzo can ask him what's wrong or try to distract him, the warmth disappears like a snap—cold replaces it for the briefest moment… but the moment passes and the next thing Terzo's aware of is… a void sitting in the center of the summoning circle. Clearly dazed and a little confused; but, not hostile and far more interested in their surroundings… and, specifically, the smith that approaches with a mask. Copia takes the mask, kneeling down with the Ghoul and extending the mask as an offering.

"Welcome, little one… do you have a name?"

Green eyes blink up at him and, just like Special, his lips move like he's trying to mimic the speaking but hasn't quite figured out how yet—

Terzo feels his arm tugged a moment before he realises Special's gotten loose and quickly slides down from his seat to run after him, "Special, don't—"

But, he doesn't attack. He shakes his head, sharply, and stops in his tracks, for the briefest moment. But, all it does is get the new Ghoul's attention as the two stare each other down. Special drops down to his prowling crouch, chirping and trilling in short, rapid bursts of curiosity.

"Wait until he's masked, little one." Terzo jumps when Earth's voice sounds above him; but, the Ghoul simply puts a gentle hand on his head. When he looks up, he swears the Ghoul is smiling. "You've done well, Priest Copia. Give him a moment to adjust. The mask will make the process quicker."

"Of course. This will only take a moment." Copia's gentle as he holds the mask out. Terzo's never seen a Ghoul being masked and actually jumps, hastily hiding himself behind Earth when the mask appears to leave Copia's hand on its own, when it's barely centimeters from the Ghoul's face, and a soft green glow emits from the lining, moving down the neck and body like veins and making the eyes glow that much brighter before a small, quiet chirp finally comes from the Ghoul's throat.

Terzo blinks and stares; as much as he wants to look away he swears he saw a design on the Ghoul's throat—

"Mou….ntain. Mountain? … Mountain."

His voice is quiet, but he sounds pleased with himself. His head tilts as he watches Copia stand and, with wobbly legs, slowly tries to mimic, only to nearly fall over. Special catches him, still crouched down in his prowl, against his shoulder and gently pushes the other Ghoul back to his feet. Instead of trying to stand like Copia, Mountain simply settles on the tips of his fingers and toes, mimicking Special instead and watching him closely as the two begin to circle each other curiously. Now that he's… kind of upright, it's a little odd to realise he looks to be a little bit bigger than Special, despite Special having grown over the past few weeks… but, Terzo hopes that just means Mountain is just… generally going to be a bigger Ghoul.

He's also rather genuinely worries they might not like each other—he's never seen a Fire and Earth Ghoul interact, what if they were ill-compatible—

Of course, the second he considers it, Special pounces, easily knocking Mountain over. Before he can go pull Special off—and he sees Copia startle as well—Mountain's hand goes flat to the ground and a few cracks start to form in the floor, causing Special to back off and the two immediately start chasing each other. They don't display any other powers, at least, but it's still concerning watching them tumbling around until Earth gives a small laugh to dispel the tension.

"This is how Ghouls socialise, don't worry. This is perfectly normal and healthy behaviour. I will see them outside, if you like, they'll need more room to run about. With your leave, Papa?"

Terzo looks up, still more or less glued to his brother's Ghoul. He sees the upper clergy muttering amongst themselves, but can't make out tone or word. Primo gives a gentle tap with his staff to signal their dismissal.

"Please do. Priest Copia, we ask you stay for a moment. Secondo, Terzo, please go with Earth. Copia will be along shortly to gather his Ghoul."

Secondo takes the out, immediately, and beelines for the chamber doors with only a passing scowl at the Ghouls. Earth sweeps a courteous bow and turns his attention to the pair still tumbling about. "Hmmm… I hadn't considered how to gather them… Terzo, do you think you can get Special's attention?"

Terzo blinks up at him, then looks back at the pair and, after a short hesitation, tries to speak.

"Special?"

Special immediately stops and his attention goes to Terzo, even as Mountain trips over himself in his efforts to cease chase. Earth takes the opportunity to gather the new Ghoul up in his arms and makes a beckoning gesture for Special and Terzo to follow. Terzo obediently falls into step behind him and Special, in turn, finally rights himself—a bit unsteady—to walking upright and comes up on Terzo's left, hugging the arm that isn't bandaged and purring deeply as he rubs his cheek against Terzo's shoulder. Terzo offers him a weak, rather unsteady smile, already bracing himself for the inevitability that… Special's attentions are going to shift.

"This is good, isn't it? Now you have a friend you can play with—"

"—Play with Vale." Special doesn't miss a beat and just hugs his arm tighter. "New friend won't ever replace Vale. Best friends. Always and forever."

The relief feels silly. He doesn't have a reason to be jealous and he knows Ghouls socialise better together than with humans—at least so far as he's seen… but the absolute confidence is so convincing and he hugs back as best he can without using his right arm.

"Best friends. Always and forever."

Even if he and Mountain do eventually become best friends, Terzo feels better in those few minutes where it's just them.

#sqooshy writes #ghost band #special ghoul #terzo #papa emeritus iii #rating: general #ao3 link #fic: ritual of summoning #fic series: meliora #ghost fanfiction

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elkian · 1 year

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So I’ve been going back over Homestuck a bit and something has struck me:

Why does Spidermom exist? (Worldbuilding-wise, not narratively.)

Like, narratively, yes, she’s huge. She had an enormous impact on shaping Vriska’s personality and thus character arc, which in turn had similarly massive effect on much of the narrative. (Between her, Mindfang-via-journal, and Doc Scratch, Vriska was functionally raised by these three and no WONDER she’s so fucked up... anyways.)

However, from a worldbuilding standpoint, we have a giant monster that explicitly feeds on (young) trolls. As far as we can tell, she either cannot or will not consume anything else. Maybe she can eat adults, but we’ll cross that bridge in a moment, hopefully.

Spidermom is from a predator species that eats trolls. She’s functionally the equivalent of handing a baby to a tiger and expecting a functional member of society in return rather than like... the tiger acquiring a taste for human flesh. She should have been hunted, possibly to extinction, not made (actively or passively) part of the lusus system, however it may work. I can sort of see her being a stealth reverse-cuckoo situation but... surely someone would have noticed.

Vriska at one point refers to killing, in her 6 sweeps/13 years of life, thousands of fellow trolls to feed this thing. Thousands! Even if we’re being conservative and calling it 2,000 max, that’s still, what, a troll every day for 6 years solid? That is bonkers.

And it’s not like the Empire is getting a good troll adult out of the bargain! Sure, the Serkets end up being driven, ruthless, and clever... but Mindfang participated in the rebellion that lead to Alternia being forbidden to adults and Vriska personally decimated her social group and endangered them for the sake of her own ego. Neither of these are boons to the war machine or even the sparse troll society we have at the end of the Sgrub session.

Now, Glybgolyb is a slightly different story, but Doc Scratch claims he deliberately planted her! She’s not natural to the Alternian environment, it seems, and even then... it’s heavily implied if not outright stated that orphaned trolls are culled by default, but it’s similarly so that adult trolls don’t keep their custodians once they leave Alternian soil. If the Empire chilled out (lmaoooo) for all of .5 sec, they could at least add those trolls to the ranks of cannon fodder.

But a dead troll is a dead troll. And yeah, it’s not exactly like Alternian society is particularly tender or merciful, particularly to the young, but they need trolls to reach adulthood so they can kill and/or die in battle as the Empire sweeps the galaxy. There has to be a cold calculus of basic input-output or they would have gone extinct long before the Glub.

Sure, it makes sense for Lusii to be able to kill trolls, to protect their wards and themselves, but one regularly dining on them is an entirely different matter.

So why the fuck is Spidermom here? Vriska is a cheater with a cheat power, it’s not really a fair or worthy judgement of her opponents’ skill, to die to her. Hell, some would consider Tavros and Aradia to be the best sacrifices to her altar of dinner time, but they both survived most FLARP sessions with her, and the one Aradia didn’t live much past, she was fucking disintegrated, not leaving behind, as far as we can tell, much of a body for the table.

So yes: She’s key to the narrative, particularly in shaping Vriska’s destiny and personality, but if you think too hard about it, it makes no sense why an avid consumer of trolls has been granted the position of guardian of a troll. I suspect if Vriska slacked off and/or died (one possibly preceding the other), Spidermom would wander off on her own rampage and kill plenty of trolls herself. Unless she doesn’t actually need to eat that often and was just tormenting Vriska this entire time.

(Obvs the most obvious answer is “Hussie thought it’d be sick and moved on bc this story is enormous” I just overthink a lot lol)

#elk text #18th #March #2023 #March 18th 2023 #homestuck

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felassan · 4 years

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Dragon Age development insights from David Gaider - PART 1

This information came from DG on a recent SummerfallStudios Twitch stream where he gave developer commentary while Liam Esler played DAO, specifically the mage Origin. I transcribed it in case there’s anyone who can’t watch the stream (for example due to connection/tech limitations, data, time constraints, or personal accessibility reasons). A lot of it is centered on DAO, but there’s also insights into DA2 and DAI. Some of it is info which is known having been out there already, some of it is new, and all of it imo was really interesting! It leaps from topic to topic as it’s a transcript of a conversational format. It’s under a cut due to length.

Note on how future streams in this series are going to work: The streams are going to be every Friday night. Most likely, every week, they’re going to play DAO. Every second week it will be Liam and DG and they’ll be doing more of this developer commentary style/way of doing things, talking about how the game was made as they play through, covering quirks and quibbles etc. Every other week, it will be Liam and a guest playing a different campaign in DAO, and Liam will be talking with them about how DA changed their lives or led them into game development, to get other peoples’ thoughts on the series (as it’s now been like 10 years). Some of these guests we may know, some we won’t. When other DA devs are brought on, it’ll be in the DG sessions. They hope to have PW and Karin Weekes on at some point. Sometime they hope to have an episode where they spend the whole time going through the lore.

(Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6)

[wording and opinions DG’s, occasionally LE’s; paraphrased]

DAO’s development actually finished up around April 2009. They then put it on ice for around six months before release. Human Noble is DG’s favorite Origin. It’s one of the ones he wrote. He also wrote the Dalish Origin as well (Tamlen is his doing ;__;). DAO’s temp name during development was Chronicles. DG has never played any of the DA games after they were released. He played them pre-release loads of times, when they were half-broken or incomplete etc. This stream is his first time seeing everything played after completion.

NWN: Hordes of the Underdark was the first game where DG was a/the lead writer, in charge of other writers, as opposed to a senior writer. It was pretty well-received. In the fall of 2003, BW were just finishing up HotU when James Ohlen came to DG to talk. BW had been having issues during the development of NWN with the IP holder for D&D Wizards of the Coast, so they were interested in starting their own IPs that they would have ownership over (and also for financial reasons). JO said to DG that one of these new IPs would be fantasy and one would be sci-fi. He knew that DG was more fantasy-oriented, and so asked DG if he wanted to take this on. DG was down, and the first thing to figure out was what that fantasy IP was going to be.

JO gave DG an atlas of European history, which he still has, and said that he wanted him to make a fantasy world that is reminiscent of medieval Europe and reminiscent of D&D - “make it like D&D but not, file off the serial numbers really well”. This worked for DG because he was pretty familiar with D&D and there were also lots of things that he didn’t like about it and wanted to change. So DG went off and for the next six months worked on creating a setting, beginning with documentation and the map. This was kinda strange because they had no idea at that time what their story would be. JO was very interested in having a “genetically evil” enemy in the setting (like an equivalent to orcs). DG wasn’t a big fan of this and his initial go at the setting omitted this (i.e. darkspawn were not a thing) and was a lot more realistic. JO insisted on adding them later on.

This period of development wasn’t actually a good process. There were other people who were working on the project who were designing the combat side. Looking back, DG feels that they should have put their heads together a lot sooner. The combat designers had various ideas for various prestige classes and subclasses, and DG would be like “these are nowhere in the setting [lore]”. He tried his best to add a few of them after the fact, which is why we see things like DA’s version of the bard archetype. The combat designers and artists originally had a vision in mind of a game that was much more along the lines of the type of fantasy you’d find in the Conan the Barbarian world - bare-chested barbarians, sorceresses that show a lot of skin, a grimdark world with barbarian hordes. They were just assuming that’s what it was going to be. At this point in time DG had never thought, “Oh, maybe I’m responsible for communicating my ideas to them” - he’d never done this role before and was just told to go create the world. He created world-building documentation and would send out emails saying “I’m making this documentation, please go ahead and take a look”, not learning until later on that nobody outside of the writing team really likes reading such documentation. He learned tricks later on like making the docs more accessible, less dense and wordy, and overall easier to peruse.

There was no real ‘vision holder’ for DA. Mass Effect did a much better job of that. Casey Hudson was the project director and the vision holder for ME, and he had the power to enforce a set vision of what was and was not ME. ME therefore ended up having a bit more of a coherent vision. DG was in essence the vision holder for DA, but he didn’t really have the authority to enforce it on the artists. The DA teams ended up spending a good 3.5 - 4 years of the ~6 years of DAO dev time going in circles, not exactly sure what they were going to make, the various people working on it having different ideas of what ‘kind’ of fantasy they were going to make. The writing team were leaning towards LoTR; the artists were leaning towards Conan; at one point one of the project directors was leaning towards a point-and-click Diablo-style action adventure; and nobody was overriding anybody else.

The fans who hang out on the forums and in similar places have a very different idea about what kind of game they like and want to play versus the telemetry BW get from the public in general. As an example, fans on the forums tend towards playing non-humans and feeling that playing as a human is boring. Forum-polls reflected that, but BW’s general public-telemetry shows that around 75-80% of the playerbase played a human in DAO. Elves were at 15% and dwarves 5%. In contrast, in the core/forum-based fanbase, the human figure dropped down to 30%.

DG originally wanted Zevran to be a gay romance (he has talked about this before). He asked JO if he could do that pretty early on, thinking of Jade Empire which had same-gender romance options which were really popular. BW were surprised about that, and DG had no idea that the JE team were going to do this. For DAO, he had an idea for an assassin character. He had been reading about how the CIA and KGB would often recruit gay men to be their assassins, as they didn’t tend to have family ties. DG thought this was really interesting. JO was cool with the idea on a conceptual level, but thought that the work that would end up going into it would be better served if those characters could be romanced by both male and female PCs. Zevran and Leliana weren’t intended to be bi, they were “bi out of convenience”, but at the time these sorts of things (representation and such) didn’t enter into the equation as much as it does today. DG wrote Zevran in his head as being romanceable by men.

DG would ask the hair artists, “Why all the mullets?”, because he never understood that, and he’d get “a sort of shrug response”, and an indication that “it’s easier to model, I guess?” Having hair which is loose, in the face, in locks, coming over the shoulders etc wasn’t really supported at this point by the tech or the engine. Hence, they ended up with like five different versions of mullets. On the subject of the engine, for the first half of development they were using an upgraded version of the Aurora engine from NWN, and it was not good. Several years in they decided to switch. Trent Oster was in charge at the time of making a new proprietary BW engine. At the time it wasn’t ready yet, but the DA team decided to grab it, use it and hammer it into the DA engine. That engine had “so many little weird quirks”, like lighting on skin not working properly and looking bad, and one of the issues was hair. It was supposed to be BW’s proprietary engine but it really wasn’t optimized for RPGs and didn’t include a dialogue system. They had to custom-build the conversation system. (At the time Trent didn’t think BW should be doing RPGs anymore, which is a whole other story of its own). DG recalls programmers complaining about things in the engine that weren’t ready for ‘prime-time’. Even compared to games released concurrently, DAO’s graphics were a bit dated.

For the worldbuilding, they had an internal wiki and they kept everything on there. They ended up with a lot of legacy documentation on there very quickly. Eventually they solved this by hiring an editor whose sole job it was to wrangle the documentation. DG started work on the setting in the same manner in which he’d embark on starting a homebrew - ‘so like, first, here’s a map, oh, I like this name, vague ideas, a paragraph on each major nation, a rough timeline of the history, expanding, and it just growing from there’. After about six months, they brought on other writers, and by then he had around 50 pages of documentation. This 50 pages was a minute amount compared to the amount they had generated at the time of release. Originally, they weren’t sure where in the world specifically the story would take place, so DG made sure to seed potential and brewing conflicts throughout Thedas. They settled quite quickly on the new Blight starting in Ferelden. Once they established that, the writers went to town on taking Ferelden specifically and blowing it up detail-wise. Jennifer Hepler was in charge of the dwarves and Orzammar. Mary Kirby was on Fereldan customs and traditions.

The first version of the setting was more grounded in realism, almost like a post-fantasy. The dragons and griffons were extinct and a lot of the things that were thought to be fantastical were thought to be over with. During development, they started clawing these things back. They brought back dragons because the game was named Dragon Age (lol). DG was approached like, “Hey, we named the game DA, can you bring back dragons and weave them into the story more powerfully?” Wynne’s writer Sheryl Chee had a bit of an obsession with griffons and was often like ‘omg, griffons :D’, and this is the origin of Wynne’s dialogue with the Warden about griffons.

KotOR was the first time BW had tried to do a game that was fully voiced-over. For KotOR, BW sent the work of casting, direction and so on down to another studio in California called Technicolor. BW had little say in the process then and when they got it back, “it was what it was”. By the time they got to DA and the first ME, BW had a good system down for recording and VO had become an important thing in games at the time. BW are really one of the premieres for this, a lot of actors really like acting on BW games as they get a lot of space to act where they wouldn’t normally be able to do so otherwise. DG has learned a lot from Caroline Livingstone on how to encourage the best performance out of an actor. For DAO, DG worked together with the various lead designers and Caroline to decide on the auditions, casting etc. This was one of DG’s favorite things to do.

Gideon Emery as Fenris, GDL as Solas and Eve Myles as Merrill were times where DG had written the character and then went to Caroline and said “I have an actor in mind for them, can you check it out?” These were specific times where he was able to secure the actor he wanted. This didn’t always work out, for example there are times when actors aren’t interested or have no time due to scheduling conflicts or were too expensive etc. Eve and GDL were DG’s roommate Cori’s idea. Cori was a big fan of Torchwood/the actors from Torchwood, and worked as an editor at BW for a long time. Gideon was DG’s idea after playing FF12. For DAO, DG didn’t have any specific ideas in terms of actors. Casting Morrigan was the longest, most drawn out process.

The Circle went through a whooole process during worldbuilding. Initially, mages in the game weren’t supposed to have any “fighting magic”. The restrictions were originally such that in the lore, they didn’t teach mages that. Mages weren’t taught any magic that could kill people, only ‘indirect’ forms of magic that could support others. However, [during what sounds like] playtesting it was asked “Why can’t I cast a fireball? I just want to cast a fireball”, so the writers had to go back and rework how magic in the lore worked completely.

Flemeth was originally going to be voiced by Shohreh Aghdashloo, and she was totally on-board, but unfortunately because of DAO’s development delays, she was unable to attend the new recording time as she had a conflict in her schedule (she was filming House of Sand and Fog). Shoreh was quite disappointed about this and her family had been so excited that she was going to be in a video game. When the movie was finished, Shoreh came back to BW and let them know that she was still available, and this is how she ended up in ME2. For a while they were trying to find an actress with an accent that authentically mirrored Shoreh’s. Out of the blue around this time, Claudia Black’s agent sent BW an audition tape of her. At the time Claudia hadn’t done any games but wanted to get into it. The tape was of Claudia doing a beat poet rendition of Baby Got Back. DG still has this tape. DG was a big fan of Farscape and on listening to the tape, it clicked right away in his head that Claudia would be perfect for Morrigan.

The Fade ended up being a big irritation for the writers. They wanted the PC to be able to assume different forms and such while in there. A lot of this stuff proved too difficult for the combat designers to work out, and so it ended up getting changed a lot. They had a hard time coming up with gameplay that could work in the Fade. The mage Origin is DG’s least favorite of the Origin stories, as he’s really dubious about the Fade section in it. It didn’t work out like how they had pictured it in their heads. By the time they got to DAI, that’s when the Fade really looks like how the writers first described/envisioned it. By this point the artists were more keen to give it a more specific feel. DAO was made at a time when ‘brown is realistic’ was a prevailing thing in games dev.

The experience of a mage in the world isn’t represented or conveyed very well to the player when the player is a mage. The experience of the player when they’re playing a mage or have a mage in their party doesn’t really match up with how the world lore tells them how dangerous mages can be - for example, how they can lose control and so on, we never really have an example of a PC mage struggling with being taken over by a demon. This was originally supposed to be a subplot in DA2 for mage Hawkes, in one of the last cuts. In Act 2, mage Hawke was originally slowly being tricked by a demon in their head that they thought was real, only to realize at the last minute. Mouse the Pride demon in the mage Origin is the only time in the entire series that they really ever properly demonstrated how demons can fuck with [PC] mages. Also, PC templars were originally supposed to have a permanent lyrium addiction that they needed to ‘feed’, but this was scrapped as the system designers weren’t keen on it and felt that it was essentially handicapping the player.

Mages were originally also not supposed to be able to deal with pure lyrium (it would ‘overload’ them). There is a plot where mage PCs run around touching lyrium nodes to refill their mana bars. On this DG was like “Wtf is this?” The designers said that it works, and DG said “but it flies in the face of the lore”. This instance is an example of how the DA team was working where the various departments (writers, artists, designers etc) all had their own ideas about how the game and its world would work and never overrode each other (see above). DG feels that DAO is a little contradictory in that way. It’s only after the game came out that a lot of the people on the team really “bought into” what they’d put forward. This got easier as they went on, with people involved buying then into the things that make Dragon Age, Dragon Age. At one point, not everyone on the team was even aware of those things.

DG relates that originally, they would ask the artists, “Ok, can we get a village?” and said village once created would be quite generic and non-specific to DA. The writers would try to relate how things are in the DA world and list things that would be found in a village like this specific to the DA world, and the artists either didn’t read it or had their own ideas (DG isn’t sure which), and nobody was around to tell them not to do that and that they should do it differently. Everyone having their own ideas like this is why we ended up getting something that is this sort of “cobbled together half-Conan half-LotR mish-mash”, and after a while this sort of became DA’s “thing”.

Initially, BW had concepts drawn up for a lot more different creatures. After they went in circles for those years and consequently ran out of time to do all the models, they had to cut these concepts down more and more. Demons were among the ones that were the first to go (this is why we have situations like a bereskarn as the Sloth Demon in the mage Origin). The original concepts for things like spirits of Valor and Sloth demons were really good. Early on, JO made a list of D&D creatures that he liked. He picked the ones that they were thinking of doing, sent them to DG and said to make a “DA version of this”. For example, D&D succubi essentially became Desire Demons. Desire Demons were originally patterned off Sandman, neither male nor female yet really alluring, acting more like a genie and trying to ferret out mortals’ inner desires (which are not necessarily sexual in nature), without being overtly sexual. The artists’ version came back and that was basically the model seen in-game. The writers were like “What is this, this is nothing like the description?” and the artists responded that on the list from JO, it was included, in that you had to click on “succubus” to get to the Desire Demon description, so they had just read “succubus” and done their version of a succubus. The artists did loads of great work, but this was one of the instances were DG was like “???” By then, it was too late to change it. The writers were able to encourage them to make Desire Demons a little more fearsome, so that made it in at least.

The mage Origin was one of the more contentious Origin stories. It had like 4 different versions written of it over time. It was often the case that BW would hire someone, and writing an Origin story was their first test. Three different writers came in and wrote a version of the mage Origin and those versions just didn’t work. Finally they passed it to Sheryl Chee and she wrote it. The Origins were the parts of the game in general that were written/rewritten the most often. There were several others that got written that they discarded.

Duncan was slated for death from Day 1. When DG writes a story, the thing he does first is pick out the big emotional beats that he wants, such as deaths. He decides these ahead of time and the stuff in-between comes later and is more often changed. Oghren was also originally supposed to die, but this ended up getting cut. DG related a story of how Oghren came to be: At the time, there was a phase JO went through when he thought everything had a formula that it could be done by. One of these ‘creative forumulas’ was that all such IPs had a two-word name that they’re known by, such as Star Wars, Star Trek, Dragonlance (being Dragon-Lance). This is how ‘DA’ and ‘ME’ came to be. One of the formulas he wanted to implement was how to distill the ‘comedy character’, like Minsc or HK-47. These characters were very popular with the fans and JO was certain that there was a way to figure this out to create one for DA. At the time, DG argued with him a lot about this. JO insisted it could be done. DG was originally supposed to write this character but ended up not doing so. JO came up with a list of comedic archetypes and had DG write a blurb about what kind of character each could be. These were then sent out to the team who voted on which was their favorite. This process eventually resulted in an archetype basically called ‘The Buffoon’ (think Homer Simpson or Peter Griffin, the kind of guy people laugh at because he’s such an oaf).

At this point ‘The Buffoon’ wasn’t named or made a dwarf yet. JO came to DG to write him, but DG said there was a problem which is that he hates this archetype. Homer and Peter are characters that he despises. DG is a professional writer, but this was comedy (outside of his areas of strength), and he felt the best he would be able to do is write a character who makes fun of this archetype and lampshade that. Comedy is something that has to come from within the writer. Oghren was given to someone else, and he ended up getting rewritten again anyway. By the time they were working on Awakening, DAO had not yet come out, and the assumption prior to the game going out was that Oghren was still going to be the most popular character from among the followers. The comedic character that ended up being the most popular along these lines was Alistair, which was interesting as he wasn’t intended as a comedic character, “so shows what we know”. DG was dubious that Oghren was going to be popular, because “he was kind of pathetic, honestly”, but that was the thinking at the time. Thinking he would be well-loved is why he was in Awakening.

On Alistair, any character DG writes is going to be sarcastic. At the time DG had made it a sort of personal challenge to recreate Joss Whedon’s dialogue patterns in his characters. Alistair was a sort of mish-mash of Xander from Buffy and maybe Mal from Firefly. DG wanted to see if he could do it, so Alistair was kind of quippy and self-deprecating. DG never really considered this to be Alistair’s main personality feature, but when other writers wrote him, they often had him doing this, as they liked the trait so much, and so this is how Alistair ended up as he did.

On dwarves, the dwarves being cut off from the Fade is very much baked into who the dwarves are as a race. There’s a specific reason why. This has been hinted at so far and it’s likely to come up in the future. DG had various ideas for some things that he wanted to include with the races or the way the world works etc. Some of them ended up never happening or some are mentioned only as part of the lore (templar lyrium addiction never coming up in gameplay is an example of this). Dwarven history and the nature of the dwarves is one of the things that survived pretty well though. DG calls Jennifer Hepler “mistress of the dwarves” and says that she did a really detailed, amazing breakdown of their history. After Jennifer left it was Mary Kirby, and DG feels that they did a good job of maintaining how dwarves were, in terms of both how they’re often presented in fantasy and yet also quite different in DA. Orzammar is one of DG’s favorite plots all together. You can really tell that Jennifer Hepler really enjoyed the dwarves and brought a lot of love to that plot.

DG draws a distinction between DA fans and the unpleasant people who harassed Jennifer Hepler.

They managed to keep the Tranquil in. There was a while there where they were going to be cut. At the same time, DG regrets that they couldn’t solve the making of the player more aware of how mages are dangerous, thing. Players could make a cogent argument like “they’re not that dangerous, look at me [mage PC]” and the writers were like “well... yeah, that is fair”. It was a case of showing one thing and the player experience of it being another. DG feels that this made the templars come off worse than they are. DG feels that they are being massively unfair and too extreme in their approach to the problem, but the problem itself is a real thing. He feels that there’s some merit/truth in the argument that mages are oppressed, but he looks at it more like an issue like gun control rather than as treatment of oppressed people, saying that we don’t have an example in real life of oppressed people who can explode into demons and cast fireballs and so on.

There are some funny pronunciations that worked their way into DA, and the reason for a lot of them is as follows: the writers had to create a pronunciation guide for VO, because otherwise you end up with a lot of inconsistencies. (Some did still slip through). The guide was online, and if you clicked on a word, an audio file for it would play. Jennifer Hepler was in charge of this and did a great job, but has a really strong NY accent, and in some cases the ‘NY-ness’ of her pronunciation endearingly worked itself into things (the way Arlathan is sometimes said is an example of where this happened sometimes).

Sometimes the writers trying to communicate the “hotness” of a character to the artists didn’t go smoothly. The writers would sometimes say things like, ok, this character is a romance, they need to be hot, and the designs would come back looking “like Burt Reynolds”, and the writers would be like “???” And then a character that wasn’t particularly intended to be hot, as in that wasn’t mentioned at all in the descriptions of them, would come back “accidentally hot”, and the writers would be like “Why couldn’t you have done this when we were asking for a character that was meant to be hot”, and the artists would be like “What?? He’s not hot”. And this became a thing (lmao - this discussion was prompted by DG being asked “Was Duncan meant to be that hot?”, for context). Some of the artists were so paranoid about their [in]ability to judge actually-hot characters that when it was time to pick an appearance, like for Alistair, they gathered up all the women at BioWare, and DG (“resident gay”) into a room to show them an array of faces and bodies like “Is this hot? Is this hot?” DG and co would sit there like, “How can you not tell? Is this a straight man thing?!” Anyways, this is why oftentimes we ended up with characters who are accidentally hot.

Over time, the writers realized that the way they communicated to artists needed to be managed better. The words they would use would have different connotations to them the writers, than what they did to the artists. For example, for Anders’ design in DA2, he was supposed to be “a little haggard”. When DG thinks of haggard, he thinks ‘a little tired, mussed hair, looking like you’ve been through some shit’. But the artists based on that produced concepts with super sunken cheeks, looking like he’d been terribly starved. The writers needed to develop a specific vocabulary for communicating with the artists, as artists think in terms of how something looks, but writers are thinking in terms of what the character “is”. Anders’ description talked about his history a lot, and the one visual-type word that jumped out was “haggard” due to its visual connotations. “A lot it came down to the writers being up their/our own asses.”

When they got to DAI, they had figured out that the way to get best results on this front was /not/ to have the writer go off and develop a long description and pre-conceived notion of what the character looked like in their head. In such scenarios artists don’t feel that they have much to contribute to the process or an ability to put their own stamp on who this character is and make them interesting to them (the best, most interesting characters are when people at all stages of the pipeline properly get to feed into it). They learned that the better solution was to bring the artists in earlier, and to give them little blurbs, and not name the character but give them an ‘archetype’-sort of ‘name’. For example, Dorian was “the rockstar mage”, “cool”, “Freddie Mercury”. The writers wouldn’t be sure that a particular concept would ‘hit’, so at this stage they would offer an array of options and sit the artist down and walk them through the concepts. The artists would then provide a bunch of sketches and it would go back and forth, with both taking part in the character creation process together. For the first two games, the writers were “really hogging” this process to themselves. They got better at not doing this and better at communicating with the artists by DAI.

There were a lot of arguments about how mages in DAO had a lot of specific lore words like “Harrowing”, “phylactery”, “Rite of Tranquility” etc. There was concern that this would be too confusing for players to understand and that it was too complicated. DG says that thankfully he put his foot down and pushed for this stuff to be kept. A lot of fans assume that as lead writer DG had all this influence, way more influence than he could possibly exert on a team. He wasn’t even a lead, he was a sub-lead, under a lead designer. He only had so much say. If the lead designer or lead artist wanted to do something differently, often there was not much he could do. Hence he had to pick his battles carefully, choose the important ones to fight. The mage vocabulary thing was one of these.

Templar Greagoir’s name is pronounced “Gregor” and it comes from a place in Alberta near where DG lived.

Codex entries are usually one of the last things that get done in a project like this, and so all of that kind of textual lore comes in super late and is super punchy as by then the writers have written so much and are exhausted. They had to find a way to make this process cute or interesting or fun for themselves, which is why a lot of entries are quite fun to read. Sometimes a writer would make a joke for banter [irl], and it would end up making it into an entry.

Only Morrigan and Duncan got unique body models in DAO. The companions all have custom-morphed heads but not custom-morphed bodies (Morrigan not included here). This is why every model has a necklace or a collar right at the point where they had to be attached to be a body. These sometimes used assets that couldn’t be used by the PC but were not unique to that character. Duncan probably got a unique model because he was in a lot of marketing/promotional material. Qunari were originally conceived as having horns.

Most people didn’t even finish DAO once (public telemetry again here), only approximately 20-25% actually did. The devs try not to read too much into this kind of thing, but the telemetry does tell them where a lot of people stop playing the game permanently (they call these “drop-off points”). One of these points in DAO is the Fade during Broken Circle. Sometimes when people interpret this data they involve self-serving biases, but it was generally accepted that the Fade there was too long, too complex, not interesting enough, etc. [source]

[Part 2]

[Part 3]

[Part 4]

[Part 5]

[Part 6]

[‘Insights into DA dev from the Gamers For Groceries stream’ transcript]

#dragon age #bioware #morrigan #solas #video games #queen of my heart #mass effect #lgbtq #jade empire #fenris #the Fenaissance #alistair theirin #lul #fav warden

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sasster · 3 years

Text

I dunno if you guys can tell but I haven’t done a lot of fantroll stuff lately. Or really. Much of anything. But I DID write this.

Mind this is just some oc species shit, BUT it would mean quite a lot to me if you guys read it. Since it’s the... Longest thing I’ve written in .. All of 2021? Yike!

Anyway, as usual, here is a link to a google doc if reading it on my blog upsets the minds eye.

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“You know that we are practically Gods in comparison, right? It is a marvel that my people are not in the conquering business. We would be very good at it, do you not agree?”

Their captor spoke with a high in their voice, Qei was positive that they’d gotten their hands on some sort of mind altering substance to get them into the mindset that they were in -- Well, how else could you explain prattling on your master plan to a supposed lesser species? He found it rather foolish for the younger Cardali to speak so loudly and so boldly in front of newly rounded up prisoners. That was to say nothing to the tragically gaudy and unnecessary large castle-like structure that he and the four others of his crew were dragged to. Truly, he’d never seen such high ceilings outside of the Temples on Cardalith. What a waste of resources.

The upside is that the People of Aeilur were a remarkably easy species to mimic. They have no real sexual dimorphism, at least not one noticeable from the outside looking in, nor do they spend a lot of their time on ridiculous beauty standards. They were just a product of their world. Aeilur is a beautiful planet, actually, lush with fauna and vegetation long extinct on most other worlds. A strong, sturdy, practical people, with pacifism practiced down to an art, they wouldn’t raise arms even if an entire army to make a grab for their planet and it’s bountiful resources. It was Falarittus’ responsibility to help keep such things from occurring.

Qei could see how an opportunistic megalomaniac might have taken advantage of such information, he just never thought that he would see the day that one such megalomaniac would be an Ambassador of Cardalith, one of their own. He was disgusted.

There is a tug at the shackles that restrain his top set of hands, indicating that while he was lost in thought he’d stopped shuffling behind. He emits a low inquisitive grunt, he was going his usual hm, but he supposes that this is the only translation his current form could offer. How fascinating! He’d have to make plans to spend more time with the People of Aeilur. Under less pressing circumstances.

There is another sharp tug at his reins and he resumes trudging along behind the madman. How humiliating. Demoralizing. It was important for him to experience this though, so that he could speak to his short experience under their thumb when it came time to trial. There would be a trial. Not that Qei was worried that Falarittus would have much of a case. It would be short.

Not as short as it would have been if Qei were to let his patron in on the manhunt -- Why that temperamental giant would have lost it before they even stepped foot into this… Mansion? Seriously, this thing was gaudy. Might’ve burned the whole thing down Himself. No matter, this was always going to be a job for Qei. He even felt bad bringing along a crew with him. Diollea insisted he bring back up “just in case”.

He threw a worried glance over his shoulder to gauge them. They seemed comfortable, and he breathed out a sigh of relief.

Oh. Right, Falarittus was still talking.

“Once they see what I’ve done for the people of this world, the Gods themselves would shower me in praise. My peers and superiors would turn to me for guidance in the new age!”

It looks like Qei tuned back in just in time for a gem! He couldn’t help himself as the air quickly expelled from his new and quite long proboscis, which resulted in trumpets quite a bit louder than he was anticipating. He thinks this might be what a laugh is for this species. He did not intend to be laughing, but the idea that their creators would entertain the idea of the subjugation of any species, let alone one so peaceful as the People of Aeilur, was preposterous!

Only an idiot who made their home the size of a mall would have such delusions.

“What is so funny, worm?”

Worm! Perhaps not letting Diollea come was the mistake, this miserable pile of goo would long be ashes in that event. The trumpets were coming in spurts now, and Qei’s guess was that these were the equivalent of hiccups or maybe wheezing.

Qei’s crew took some steps back as Falarittus took the several steps to close the gaps between them. Now, naturally, Falarittus and Qei were eye level, but in this form they only came to just about chest level with him. Gentle, emphasis on the giant, indeed. The latters trunk swayed between them with a gentle undulation in a behavior that Qei was actually quite familiar with! Taunting.

He’d only seen it when three sisters prepared for a friendly bout of wrestling upon their reunion; It was cute. This was not.

“Oh, did you want to fight? Is that it? Did you plan to be the warrior of your people?”

Qei merely held up his two sets of shackled hands, hands big enough to hold Falarittus’ head in it. Hands that could crack their skull like a fragile piece of pottery if he were so inclined. He could not disrespect this form with violence, though, he thinks.

The bitter laugh that erupted from the man opposite him was unlike anything he’d ever heard come from the mouth of another Cardali, and he has met many of them in his day. It was almost ear splitting and made the hairs from his arms to his chest stand on end. Danger receptors? Very nice.

“It is not in you to fight, but please raise your hands to me so that I may cite self defense back to my superiors.”

There was a sick smirk on their face as they pulled a set of keys from their robes -- Robes, they were wearing robes like some sort of high priest in a fantasy story book -- and began to unlock the cruel piece of metal from Qei’s top set of arms. This was ideal, as he was fairly certain this is the set that translates back to the singular set of arms in his natural form, as they did not rudely burst from his shoulder blades like the second set did.

“Let's keep it fair, I only have the one pair after all.”

“Fair?” His own voice was quite alien to him, raspy and guttural as it tried to form words unfamiliar to the vocal cords tongue he borrowed to speak. Standard was not a language that belonged in this mouth.

“Fair. Say it with me. F-er.” Holy. Xenophobia. How did this pass the sniff test? No, there had to be another traitor in their ranks for such an awful wretched soul to have been left alone here. An example was to be made, and Qei would make sure that it was handled swiftly. The only good news was that this was so early on, that there was just this region of the planet that experienced it. Which was a really bad thing to think was a good thing. But there was a chance that the People of Aeilur would continue to allow Cardalith’s aid.

“Fair.” Qei said, once again the word barely made it past his tusks in one piece.

Falarittus cackled wildly at this attempt as Qei closed his eyes and focused his energy intro retracting that disrespectful set of arms back into his body, he’d been shifting for quite long time at this point in his life, so the rest of the shift passed by with a pleasant hum and totally not worth describing from the inside.

He reopened his eyes to the sound of metal hitting the floor, he was now looking at his own hands, ambient green glow and birthmarks exactly where he’d left them. They were clenched into tight fists. Most importantly, though, he was staring straight into the shell shocked eyes of the once quite full of himself clown.

“Fair enough?”

“Qei’eleritte, wait, let's talk about this --”

He swung hard, possibly with more force than intended, because they crumpled to the floor almost instantly. Behind him, he could hear the humored trumpeting of his still disguised crew behind him.

This could have been so much worse.

#coko writes sometimes #qei things #waves hello #owo)/#i would appreciate feedback but if you're mean i'll cry

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writerwrites · 3 years

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Yuánfèn | 01

Ch.1: Depaysement: “The feeling that comes from not being in one’s home country; being a foreigner.”

Summary: When you’ve lost everything and try to run away from your problems, you keep finding a way back to the one person who completely understands. Can you make another person happy with a broken heart?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Chapter Word Count: 3.9k Chapter Warnings: Slow burn, grief, fluff

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After the 2012 Battle of New York, you didn’t have anyone to tell you that you shouldn’t start working for Stark Industries. The United States government swore that less than a hundred people had died in Loki’s Chitauri attack on the city you called home, but the loss of both of your parents and your only sibling was still sitting like an anchor of depression on top of your chest. They hadn’t even been in the same buildings and thinking about those devastating hours sitting at home alone waiting for them to come through the door as the wireless network collapsed under the panic of the city still sent you into a week of night terrors. The blood never did wash out of your scrubs, one of the worst days of both your professional and personal life. Still, you didn’t blame the Avengers and thought that if anyone was going to stop the world from falling into that darkness again that it was them. If all you could do was patch up those few people skilled enough to save the world, you would manage your own emotions. Compartmentalizations, that was all you knew after that day.

It was your maternal grandmother, a reclusive woman that retired in Mallorca, that was all you technically had left. With no relationship between the two of you, it was easy to take up the offer to start working for Stark and the team, especially with how busy both Dr. Cho and Dr. Banner had been with their own research. The facilities in Stark Tower were far beyond ‘state of the art’ and you’d been given a team of androids and nurses that helped you build confidence in knowing what you were doing when, in terms of years of experience, you’d been an unlikely choice for the job. It was those years learning under great minds that you really flourished and in a few short years, had found a rhythm to your new normal. Work, apartment, study and practice technique; rinse and repeat.

There was more expected of you at Stark Industries than just the titles of doctor, surgeon, or even therapist. You kept your head down for years, expecting Stark to think he’d made a mistake choosing you. It was Dr. Cho’s encouragement that made you stand a little more straight, a little less invisible, a little more emotionally available. When the team came back from Sokovia with an entire hole through Clint Barton, Dr. Cho took him for tissue repair and you ran your checks on the rest of the team. To your surprise they weren’t in the common area, everyone dispersing and choosing their solitude, uncommon for a mission that should have been deemed a success. You found Natasha first, sitting in a room next to Clint’s. “Hey Doc, I’m all clear. Just need to know how Clint’s doing.”

Pulling up your stool you shook your head. “Nice try, jacket off.” She nodded and you worked her bruised arm to make sure there weren’t any fractures or sprains. “Dr. Cho seemed confident Clint would be fine. You know that as long as you clean up she’ll let you in there. Physically you’re good to go, but what happened out there. Everyone’s run off.”

Watching Natasha’s gaze fall, the swallow at her cottonmouth, and the brief silence it was obvious the injuries were different on this mission. “There were some enhanced kids working for HYDRA, she got in Tony’s head, banged Cap up pretty bad too. I’m fine and we got the scepter, but this one isn’t feeling like much of a success. I just have to process, I guess.”

“Well, I’ll have JARVIS pencil you in for a chat. If you’ve worked through it, great. If not, you’ve got me. I get it, really I do. He’s your person.” Offering up a soft smile you tapped away on the tablet. “Clean up so you can get to Barton.”

“Thanks, Doc. I took it pretty easy compared to Steve and Tony.” She trailed off, offering an apologetic smile before she slipped out of the door.

Pinching your nose, you asked JARVIS for everyone’s location in the Tower and the A.I. made you a map with little blinking lights. Captain Rogers was closest and you went into the gym quietly, hearing the sound of his fists lobbing into a punching bag. Quietly crossing the wooden floor, you knew that with his enhanced sense he already knew you were coming before you walked in, but it didn’t stop you from being cautious. He had swapped the suit for sweats and an undershirt and you could see the crusted over cuts on his bicep and forearms, the stain of blood on his wrapped knuckles. By the time you were within arms reach, tablet and medical bag in hand, he grabbed the bag to stop it from swinging into you. Sweat dripped down his forehead causing his disheveled blonde hair to stick to his skin and you lowered your gaze so you’d stop staring. He broke the silence first, “Did you already check on the others?”

For a moment you were tempted to lie, “Clint is with Dr. Cho. Nat’s patched up. Your turn now, Captain Rogers.” With a firm nod to the bench he surprisingly obliged. As you carefully took off the bandages on his hands, cleaning them up and wrapping them in fresh gauze, you asked about what seemed to have shaken the team up. “What did the enhanced agents in the field do?”

He stiffened, not just from the sting of the astringent on his cuts as you moved up along his arms. “The girl used some sort of mind control. Tony thinks it was a vision, but I got the brunt of whatever telekinesis she has. I’ve never seen anything like it before. The boy that got Clint was just fast, threw him off and he got hit.” Pressing one of Dr. Cho’s artificial skin patched over a deeper cut in his bicep, you took off your gloves and tapped away on the tablet before meeting his eye, wondering if he would continue. “Whatever Tony saw, it’s put some idea in his head and, well, you know how Tony is. There’s a lot of pressure to do things right, to get everyone home. I’m not saying I’m not used to it, but since I came out of the ice I’ve had it relatively easy working with SHIELD and the Avengers.”

A crease formed between your eyebrows as you looked up at him. “I know the feeling.” Letting out a slow, shaking breath you took his hands in yours, just for a moment, “Focus on what you can control, Tony’s not one of those things, but the team could learn from the mistakes made. You can make a training plan to better prepare for another run in with the kids. Until you’ve got that down, I’m sure you’ll be busy trying to find out who they are.”

Unless Steve had looked into the undoubtable file Stark had made on you upon your hiring, there was no way he knew you had lost your entire family years earlier while he was out avenging. Maybe he didn’t know you’d noticed he was a planner. He certainly didn’t know you were too or if he did, he wouldn’t know why. Both of you pulled away simultaneously, neither managing to look at the other. It was isolating, unintentionally so. The dynamics in the Tower between the team and everyone else that worked there made you feel like you had each foot in two different worlds; a stranger to the team in an even stranger land. To your surprise, he stood up and grabbed the scraps of packaging and dirty gloves, “I’ll heal up in a few days, so I promise to stay off the punching bag until then. If I need anything I’ll find you, Doc.”

It was exactly what he needed and proof that he was used to these doctors orders. Despite the job, you’d kept a low profile. None of them really knew you. You were at best ‘Doc’ and at worst completely invisible. You watched him do what the rest did after a check up, walk away without another word. Under your breath you whispered your name- seemingly the only thing you could manage to string together as you felt misplaced. It was worse than homesickness because you knew there was no home to go back to, no friends that knew your former self. Lost in your thoughts you almost didn’t hear the soldier softly repeat your name before tossing the trash in the nearest bin and marching out the door. It closed so loudly behind him you flinched.

Pulling up the map that JARVIS had made for you, you finished your rounds and slipped back into your office to fill out your paperwork, the equivalent of a debriefing report. There wasn’t much to write, not a single one of them told you what they’d seen and it was the psychological, not the physical injuries, Clint aside, that worried you. Your thumb pressed into the smooth metal of the two gold wedding bands that sat against your sternum under your scrubs, then across the links of the gold necklace that held them. It was in the unspoken images the woman had placed in Tony’s mind, the powerful scepter sitting in a lab in the Tower, and the near-loss of Hawkeye, all of it was too much at once for the team. You could hear Natasha’s voice saying she had to process that gave you the sense of being unsettled and separate from one’s place of belonging and it had you reaching for the tokens of your past.

Absentmindedly clicking away from the forms to your email you noticed a high alert message with a heading in Spanish. As you clicked, you tried to switch your tired mind into what had once been your first language but that you hadn’t used in deep conversation in years. Line by line you reread the message, thinking that what you read was simply lost in translation. Right when you were about to ask JARVIS to translate, the door to your office opened. Tony Stark never had the decency to knock so you didn’t know why you half expected him to not read your emails. “Stark, come to tell me what the kid put in your head?”

Tony leaned against the door to your office, whiskey in one hand which was more than a hint that he’d found his own way to cope with what he saw. He tapped on the tech on his wrist and projected an images of your grandmother, her villa in Mallorca, and then swiped to display medical records. “I’ve made arrangements for you to take some time off and handle everything with your family.”

Before you could scold him for reading your email or tell him that he shouldn’t be keeping tabs on you, your phone chimed. The screen lit up with alerts from various apps indicating a flight, Uber, and Airbnb were all set up for you. “Mr. Stark, you didn’t have to…”

“Ah, but I did.” He cut in, wagging his finger at you. “You’ve kept the team in one piece for years, this is the definition of doing the bare minimum. Come back when you’re ready, your job will be here. We might even manage to stay out of trouble while you’re gone.”

“I might actually buy that if it was coming from Cap, but you wouldn’t know how to stay out of trouble if you were given a manual.” Getting out of the chair and picking up your things you hadn’t noticed you’d been crying. Wiping the tears away when you weren’t looking you managed a soft, “Thank you.” By the time you turned around Tony was gone.

Walking the familiar path to the elevator you popped in your AirPods, keeping your head low as you waited for the elevator in case someone tried to stop you or ask you something personal. The doors dinged and opened and you were met with the familiar scent of bar soap and laundry detergent. Reaching for the garage button to see it lit up you pulled your hand back. “What happened to taking it easy?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” His voice was soft, but you kept your head down, music playing quietly in your ears, “What’s this song?” Pulling your phone out of your pocket you showed him the screen, uncertain if you could keep yourself together enough to speak, and ultimately not realizing that you hadn’t cleared the notifications from the screen when he asked with a tone of surprise, “You’re leaving for Spain?”

Fighting the burn in your eyes as your nerves seemed to insist on making you face the reality of this trip you looked up at him, only half way, talking to his chin instead of meeting his eyes, “Yeah, for my grandmother. I have to take care of… I won’t be gone long I don’t think.”

His calloused fingers lifted your chin forcing you to meet his eyes. The bright blue, the concern that melted into sympathy. “Cancel the Uber. I’ll take you to the airport.”

“You don’t have to do that. I haven’t even packed.”

“I want to,” His soft smile made you attempt your own broken smile, causing the tears to trickle down your cheeks. Despite never having a real conversation with you and knowing nothing about you, he wiped the tears away and gently squeezed your shoulder. “What’s easier for you, leaving your car here at the Tower or leaving it at home?”

You didn’t want to admit that the thing that would probably bring you home before the date on your return ticket was the team getting into trouble. “Leaving my car here.”

Giving him directions to your place proved to be an amusing distraction by the third wrong turn. Despite knowing him for three years, it was the first time you really saw him laugh. That melodic, deep laughter was contagious and you found yourself laughing into your hands to hide the ferocious blush that wouldn’t seem to leave your cheeks. With some relief you made it to your apartment and invited him in. “I just have to pack really quick.”

“I could help. Military made me a master at it.” His eyes were wandering over the place, hands in his pockets.

You didn’t need to look at him for more than a second to know that he had no idea who the people in the pictures were or that you’d lost them all. Your stomach twisted hoping he wouldn’t ask, so you thoughtlessly thanked him and led him to your bedroom, only partitioned from the living room with a vintage panelled wall divider. It was a relief you were almost never home, leaving the place fairly clean. Taking out your one small suitcase and your old canvas backpack from medical school you tossed them on the bed, “The longest I’ve been away from work was four days. I have no idea how to fit enough clothes in here.”

“Just set what you want to take to the side and I’ll get it in there. You should grab your toothbrush and computer, chargers and things.” He sat on the bed and picked up the backpack and suitcase, checking out the pockets as you tossed a handful of clothes onto the bed. You’d changed scrubs in front of other doctors and seen most of the super soldier, leaving you unfazed by the fact that he was now handling your intimates. Steve on the other hand was quickly becoming a warm shade of pink as he made quick work of the task at hand. “So...what’s the trip for?”

When Steve looked up from your luggage and reached for the item in your hands he knew immediately, as if he’d forgotten in the laughter on the car ride that he’d found you in the elevator fighting back tears. The black dress was formal but not flashy, a practical length but not something meant for an interview… and you knew that he knew as he took it and set it as delicately as he would have laid the flag of one of his lost soldiers in the hands of a mother or wife. “I just hope it still fits.” Turning away so he wouldn’t see you cry, you held your breath and rummaged through your dresser for something to wear to the airport.

As you pulled a tunic and leggings to your chest you turned around and smacked right into the super soldier. He didn’t hesitate to pull you right into a tight hug. “If you end up needing anything while you’re there just let me know. Anything at all, okay?”

You couldn’t be sure how long he let you cry into his shirt, but you knew it was soaked through when you finally slipped into the bathroom. With a glance at your phone you realized there wasn’t much time left to get to the airport, certainly not to shower. Cleaning your face and changing, you stepped back into the room to find him with his nose in the book you’d been reading that had been sitting on your bedside table, Heart Like a Window, Mouth like a Cliff. “Home is the place, for better or for worse, we learn to love.” You quoted as you picked up your backpack and put it on, “I haven’t finished it yet, but you can borrow it while I’m gone. I don’t think I’ll have much time for reading.”

He stood up and grabbed the suitcase, but not before tucking the book into the pocket of his coat. Both of you managed a smile and he looked around, “Got your passport, ID, and…”

“Yeah, thanks.” You nodded and patted the bag.

“Stop saying thank you for something you’d do if the shoe was on the other foot.” With one last look around your place Steve noticed the plants and a pet fish on the window sill. “Why don’t you leave your keys with me. I’ll check on your fish and water the plants, grab your mail.”

You hesitated, but it wasn’t as if you’d been home often enough to get to know your neighbors. Telling yourself that it was okay to let a coworker be nice to you, that this wasn’t anything like forming an attachment, you nodded and passed him your keys. “I’ll completely understand if it’s an assistant that ends up coming here, but, umm…” Catching yourself from saying thank you again, you stepped into the hall and watched him lock up a bit unnerved by how quickly he realized which key belonged to the three locks.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” It was the first time you’d heard him say your name in full voice, close up and yet it somehow felt softer than it had earlier. You shuffled quickly down the one flight of stairs, but not before Steve took your small suitcase. Those blue eyes watched you the whole way, making you wonder if he thought you were about to snap.

From holding the door open to passing you the auxiliary cable and asking you to play the music from the elevator, the ride to the airport was fairly quiet. Periodically, a song would come on that would choke you up and you’d go to reach for your phone to skip it. Every time, Steve would grab your hand and give it a squeeze, waiting until you’d caught your breath before moving his hands back to the steering wheel. To your surprise he didn’t pull up to the drop off and instead parked and walked with you as far as the TSA would let him go, carrying your small suitcase and giving your hand a supportive squeeze every time you were asked about the reason for the trip overseas. Rather than saying thank you as you prepared to part ways, you cleverly thanked him in Spanish, making him shake his head disapprovingly. “Steve, you’ve been an absolute gentlemen through the hardest night I’ve had in three years. I know you said I would do the same for you, but I guess I never thought anyone at work knew I existed.”

Steve scoffed, “You’re a little hard not to notice. I’ll make sure you don’t feel that way when you’re back.” Your eyebrows furrowed, concerned he was going to scold the team or worse. “Don’t make that face.” He let out one laugh and shook his head and passed you his phone. “Here. I’m getting a lot better with the texting thing. Keep in touch while you’re gone... even if it’s just pictures of food so that I know you’re eating.”

You put your number in his phone and passed it back. “I’m not going to have a problem eating.” When you looked up at him, he seemed unconvinced. “I’m a doctor, knucklehead. I’m trained in the stages of grief.”

He nodded, but you both exchanged the sort of look that said you’d keep in touch anyways, thank you, and goodbye all at once. You wanted to hug him, but felt like maybe you’d used up all the proximity of a fresh friendship’s timer in your fit of tears in your bedroom. Looking back, glassy eyed as you prepared to move through the last line of metal detectors, you noticed he was still standing there, hands in the pockets of his leather bomber jacket as he watched you. Your chin quivered as you fought back tears. No one had stood by you through the loss of your family in 2012, now you didn’t know what you had done to deserve this, but you were eternally grateful for this man.

Your gaze felt to your feet as you fought back fresh tears and then, before you knew it, there he was, arms wrapped back around you, one hand rubbing your back and the other holding your head to his warm chest. He was saying something to the TSA agent but you couldn’t hear it over the fresh bout of weepies. Steve rocked you and then lifted your face in his hands. “What did I say? If you need anything, all you have to do is ask, okay? Don’t miss your plane. You’re going to get through this.”

Then, and you were certain he’d only done this to get your mind off the grief, he placed a kiss to the top of your head. You looked up at him as you slowly untangled yourself from the hug, his eyes stayed on yours but he stepped aside to let you go after another moment or two. You didn’t say goodbye or thank you, words seemed to fail you, and you’d have an entire plane ride to sit confused and overthink how this night hadn’t just turned into some crush on America’s most high profile bachelor. Nearly twelve hours later you made it to your grandmother’s home in Mallorca, emotionally and physically exhausted. As you collapsed onto the sofa, too anxious to roam through the house just yet, your phone chimed. “It’s Steve. I hope you made it to Spain and are getting some rest before you take care of your family. Thank you for the book, I really enjoyed it.”

With a sleepy smile you type back, “Finished already?!? What did you think? I made it. Resting is TBD...”

His reply surprised you, a quote from the book, and you fell asleep before you could muster one last reply:

We cannot know the remarkable velocity at which we pull each other, tear at individuation, until the distance between us curves and no one is themselves.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I would love feedback from you. As my followers know I have an obscenely demanding job, but I always try my best to keep you posted on if there will be a delay in a chapter posting. While I do keep Reader vague, I’m a Latina writer and I write fics I want to read.

Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics

I will be reblogging with tags, send an ask if you’d like to be added either to the series or to my overall tag list.

#steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #writer: writerwrites

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medical-gal · 3 years

Text

Death by a thousand cuts

I have been thinking about writing this for months now. Even before I decided to quit the residency at my previous job.

COVID has been kicking our ass, true, but that was (is) true for most healthcare providers all around the world.

No, my struggle started a bit before that actually.

First some background, I have been working at one of the biggest most famous ID clinics in central Europe. The clinic is in a different country than I am originally from so there was a bit of cultural accommodating at the begging. But we were a big group of ID interns/residents/fellows and specialists.

I don't actually remember that much from my first year working there. And I couldn't figure out why, but then I read in some study that when u experience a high dose of stress and/or sleep deprivation for a long time, your brain kinda stopps being able to transcribe short term memory into a long term.

I was working 100hours/week, sometimes less, sometimes more. After a year and a half, when the last half I worked in the ID ER for five months, I always stayed after working 24 hours, sometimes over 36hours, and I would see and treat 70ish patients. Nobody from the older docs would help me out, nobody from other interns either bc usually they would have their own kind of hell to take care of.

The fact that basically, inexperienced doctors are taking care of patients never really phased my ex-boss. Her mantra was that if there was a problem that you cannot resolve, you can call her and she would advise you. Which most of the time was true, I must say that.

But we all have been young docs, barely out of our medical school garments, and sometimes as it happened, we could not recognize there IS a problem that maybe needs a more experienced opinion.

I am often confronted with this idea or more like a culture, of pretending that once you are an MD you don't need help and asking for it is a kind of weakness and that then you are forever on the list of WEAKLINGS.

And let me say this only once.

That's absolute bullshit.

Anyway, the first time I decided to quit I worked there for about a year and a half, I went for a long-expected holiday, I took three weeks off, had interviews and talked with my bf about my options.

Second thing...my man, bless his beard, would support me no matter what. He is almost 10 years older than me, so he has more work experience and I find it reassuring to discuss stuff like this with him bc I know he will not sugarcoat it. He said that I should dig my heels in and last at least one more year till the end of my "internship". As a "resident" who worked at this specific department, I wouldn't have a problem finding another job. We r basically the equivalent of a french legion of medical professionals (when u work in this specific department and everyone knows it, I will come back to that later).

So I took his advice. Thankfully as a part of our training, one of those parts is a year-long internship at the internal medicine department, which I did shortly after we had that conversation and guys, that was a revelation of how medicine and just...work and life can be experienced. There were enough docs for a floor, an attending who had the time to manage and advise us. I´ve grown that year as a doc so much. Other internships were mandatory so I could have become (equivalent of) a resident, and it was a general surgery, anesthesiology, radiology, microbiology etc. But I did them all and became a resident.

The moment I came back to our clinic, my boss would put me in our outpatient department. Which I have never worked on before. The head of the department has quit a few months before, and I had no idea what to do there, bc it's a very different type work. The only thing my boss told me when I spoke of my concerns were "you will learn".

Thankfully the previous head of the department was a good friend of mine and she would always answer my questions and requests. Suddenly I no longer had to deal with the hectic life of an ID floor or ER, no sepsis, meningitis, etc.

Most of my patients were the chronic type...Lyme, chlamydia, mycoplasma... let's say it literally drained the life out of me. But I managed. Also, I started to work for their outpatient office which takes care of patients with chronic hepatatis. That I enjoyed more.

I also started to dip my toes in vaccinology, either planned like for travel but I started to be more interested in preventive care in the immunocompromised and my own phantasmagoria was to make a palliative care team in our hospital. Bc, we had none. And then a wonderful thing happened, other docs, older experienced, great at their work, started to refer their patients to me specifically.

There were more examples of the utter a complete FUCK U(s) which were kindly provided either by the system or by the head of the department or the hospital.

Then covid hit and the shit hit the interstellar space.

I still can't make myself remember the first few months bc it actually causes me to go into a rage fit, and honestly, I am done with that kind of negativity.

I hold out for a year. Year of such shitty treatment from the chief and our hospital head. No thank you- s or you are doing a good job or we r all on the same ship.

No.

People will say that I quit bc of the money. And that's not true, tho it did irk me a bit. All the other ID specialists working at different hospitals would get covid bonuses every month. We got jack shit. Again, the best biggest most know ID clinic. We were the first and oftern the ONLY ones who would test for/diagnose/hospitalize/treat a patient who had covid FOR MONTHS in the beginning.

I mean, the medical community is small, the ID community even smaller so yes, we were able to compare and contrast the work at different ID departments in other hospitals bc our friends worked there. And all of them would go speechless when they would hear from us what we were living thru.

At one point at the beginning of the pandemic, ALL the ambulances would go thru our ER department and we were supposed to decide where the patient should go.

AN EXAMPLE

Ambulance with a woman who has known colon cancer, had a fever, stomach as a rock and is projectile vomiting. I was supposed to decide where she should go and the surgeon would be super pissed when I said that I don't think she has COVID but without PCR I can't be sure but I think there is a bigger pressing issue. I remember him saying:

"well if anyone else gets infected at our department and dies, it's on you."

fun.

There were other examples of seriously stressful episodes which I and my coworkers lived thru, for which we were not trained for, advised, or properly supervised. At a certain point, I started to take anxiolytics before and during my all-nighters bc I didn't know what I would do with all that stress which was so callously shat on me and my coworkers.

For a few months, I stopped working nights, only thru the mercy of my coworkers who saw how exhausted I was and would take my shifts.

Anyway, after only two months I had to start working nights bc I needed the money. The basic pay for docs was just not enough without the extra from night shifts. Talk about exploiting.

The moment however when I decided to QUIT, when I was DONE, when I actually heard my heart break, was the moment at the end of the previous year. They decided to start vaccinating in our tiny small vaccination centre. Let's say a "shit storm" brewing is the light version of events that ensued.

But basically, as I was trying to discuss with my boss that we are all exhausted, that this wave is not slowing down and that throwing more work at us, the docs and nurses and other staff, who are overworked, is not a good idea,

What she basically said to me is that who says things like that is lazy and that if she can handle it everyone must be also.

The thing is..most of us were at the bring. Some would handle it with casual and calous sex, drugs (legal or not), a bottle of wine before sleep. A coworker ended up with antipsychotics.

But u know,

we were all lazy apperently.

I realized there is no way out of this other than quitting. I could not continue being so tired and sad all the time. I took two weeks off, really thought about it. Had diarrhoea and nausea for a week as I realized I will have to quit :D

On a Monday I came back, handed in my notice. Basically what she told me and how she reacted made me realized how right the decision was.

I had to stay there for another three months bc that's the law, but my mood changed significantly.

I got another job in a smaller ID department, working with amazingly kind people, but that's another story.

But that was the only interview I actually looked for and did. I, however, did get several job offers from different types of medicine. From heads of different departments in my old hospital to smaller general medicine chain offices who are looking for ID specialists, to insurance companies.

Like I said, french legion.

Or Runway and your boss is Miranda Pristley. Once u survive that, u survive anything.

But at my old work they would keep hitting you with wave after wave of passive agressive comments about how if u quit, u wont be able to find anything as"prestigious" as this.

There were many other exmaples of a shitty and questionable situations which were treated as "normal" but there is not point on getting on that rage train.

Contrary as it might seem, I am greatful I got to live thru this, good and bad, bc now I know what I am and am not willing to sacrifice for a job. No matter how much I might love it.

#sorry this is long #but goddammit it needed to be said #suzy's adventures in id

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nitewrighter · 3 years

Note

First Meeting of Genji and Tracer maybe?

I haven’t forgotten all the kiss prompts but I wanted to gear-shift to something a little more punchy!

-------

“I don’t know about this…” Genji mindlessly brushed his fingers along the handle of Ryū-Ichimonji as he walked down the hall, “I’ve never really thought of myself as a teacher...”

“You said you wanted to get off the bench,” Reyes walked alongside him, both hands in the mono-pocket of his hoodie. He had a way of carrying himself that made it easy for the eye to scan past him, despite being head of Blackwatch, but Genji drew the eye, bare skin and metal, and stark black, white and red prosthetics, and so in their walk virtually all Overwatch staff in the hallway gave them an unnaturally wide berth, first a natural reaction to Genji’s appearance, then a flinching recognition of Reyes. “This is the best Jack and I can do for you,” Reyes went on, “Besides, she was in the RAF before this, so it’s not like she’s coming into this with no combat knowledge.”

‘The best Jack and I can do for you,’ Genji glanced away from Reyes, his eyes narrowing in thought, So you show Jack one hand with me, while keeping the other behind your back with McCree. I’m the ‘accountability’ agent, but McCree and Moira... they’re still Blackwatch. They’re still working. His ‘real’ agents. Genji wondered where McCree was now. Was it an ‘errand’ this time or a ‘vacation?’ It wasn’t as if it was sanctioned by Jack either way, but it wasn’t like Jack would look too closely or question it so long as the cyborg ninja was accounted for.

“Hey,” Reyes spoke and Genji was forced to pull himself out of his bristling silence, “Being a part of Overwatch isn’t just cutting through shit with a sword. You have to show you can work with people, and not just Blackwatch.” Reyes gave a short snort, “Though, let’s be real, saying you worked with Blackwatch is a bit of a stretch.”

Genji kept his eyes fixed away sullenly. “So she’s not the only one learning, here,” he mused.

“Now you’re getting it,” said Reyes, smiling.

“You don’t know when Blackwatch’s suspension is ending, do you?” Genji’s voice was level but it wiped the smile from Reyes’s face in an instant.

“Can’t say that I do,” Reyes flicked his own eyes forward, down the hall, “But that doesn’t mean I’m sitting on my hands, Shimada. You can believe me when I say I’m working on ways to get you back out there, because Talon’s only going to get bolder while we’re wrapping ourselves in red tape. But you have to show me, Jack, and all these UN pearl-clutchers you can adapt. Do you understand?”

“Mm,” Genji gave a single nod as they exited two automatic doors out to the training area, where a cluster of training bots where doddering around in various directions.

“Had ‘em cue up your usual warm-up,” said Reyes, putting his hands on his hips, “Think benchwarming got you soft?”

Genji gave a short scoff before drawing Ryū-Ichimonji from his back, but Reyes could hear the smile in his breath beneath his faceplate.

----

“Wow... Blackwatch!” Tracer’s eyes were wide as Mercy and Winston stood next to her in the elevator, “I heard all about the--I mean, everyone heard about Venice but--blimey! Are we sure it’s all right?”

“We’re approaching this as a sort of... rehabilitation from suspension,” said Mercy, “And don’t worry, I’m very well-acquainted with your future teacher and I can assure you that Genji Shimada holds himself to a very high standard as an agent.”

“I know that but....I don’t know if I’m cut out for any of that ninja stuff,” Trace glanced down at the chronal accelerator glowing in her chest, “This thing doesn’t exactly make it ea--easy to sneak around.” A brief ripple of glowing blue chronal feedback bloomed around her on the word ‘easy’ and her shoulders bunched up self-consciously, “Sometimes I don’t know if I can pull off that... speed-up thing I did back with the prototypes...”

“The accelerator reacts to your nervous system,” Winston chimed in, “We can worry about safely discharging the chronal distortion later, but it’s perfectly safe and stable as it is right now! All you need to worry about is keeping a cool head!”

“Cool head,” Tracer said firmly, “Right.”

“But if anything feels wrong you should tell us immediately,” Mercy quickly added.

“Gotcha, gotcha,” said Tracer, nodding. The three of them stood in a nervous, excited silence for a few seconds.

“Is he nice?” Tracer asked, looking at Mercy, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I can deal with the ‘tough love’ types, but I guess I’m just not really sure what to expect with all this Blackwatch stuff...”

“Oh he’s wonderful,” said Mercy beaming as the elevator dinged and the doors opened, “And I think, while both your situations are very unique, he’ll definitely understand what you’re going through. He’s basically had to re-learn how to coordinate his body, too!”

Tracer’s shoulders slumped with some reassurance as they stepped out into the open air of the training area, “Well that’s a relief,” she said, with a lopsided smile.

“Oh yes. He’ll be a great teacher. He’s patient, and attentive, and really quite funny once you get to know him, and he’s very---”

Mercy was cut off by a snarling, roaring, cybernetically warbling scream as a red, white, and black blur rushed past them on the training grounds. Tracer, Winston, and Mercy watched in some combination of awe and terror as Genji Shimada tore through a batch of training bots like a hurricane.

“Very--um...” Mercy’s words turned halting as Genji dove and slid under one bot and became a whirlwind of blades and kicks, slicing up the training bots closing in on him, before sending the poor training bot he had dived under into the air then springing into the air himself. His wires whipped around him as he twisted in the air, sending the training bot flying back with a kick that made it shatter against a wall.

“Very--” Mercy tried to regain her composure and speak quickly but winced as she was cut off again by the screech and clatter of metal, the loud scream of a broken vocal box on one of the training bots as Genji jammed both sword and wakizashi into it before ripping it outward and rendering the training bot an explosion of broken metal parts. Mercy looked sharply over to Tracer, whose mouth was hanging open in a petrified gawk.

“He’s very...” Mercy was trying to eke words out of herself as Genji sliced off the head of one training bot with his sword then stabbed it through with his wakizashi before pivoting and smashing another training bot’s head with the skewered head of its compatriot. “...enthusiastic?”

Genji’s breaths were ragged and his forearms were quaking with how hard his hands were gripping his sword and wakizashi, surrounded by the sparking broken bits of training bots, his shoulders rising and falling with his breaths. Tracer, Winston, and Mercy all flinched to attention at the sound of clapping next to them and looked to their right to see Gabriel Reyes stick his thumb and forefinger in his mouth and whistle shrilly before clapping some more.

“Attaboy, Genji! Still got it!” Reyes called out to Genji and Genji seemed to pull himself out of a blood-drunk haze (or at least the robot-destroying equivalent of a blood-drunk haze), looking over his shoulder and then flinching to awkward attention himself as he noticed Reyes was now accompanied by Mercy, the gorilla, and... the newbie.

His student.

Who looked about ready to either throw up or piss herself or both from what she had just seen him do.

Reyes was still clapping and smiling obnoxiously, Genji awkwardly lifted his wakizashi (smaller sword was less threatening, right?) and gave a small wave.

“Uh... yo,” he said.

“Er--excellent form, Genji!” Mercy raised her voice so he could hear her but it came out as a squawk, her desperation to try and diffuse the situation obvious in every intonation, “Very... efficient!” She had that ‘everything is going wrong but for the love of god be strong, Angela’ deliriously forced smile on her face, which he had seen both at 3 AM in the lab and at press conferences going down in flames.

“Thank you?” said Genji, sheathing both his sword and moving to walk toward them but then stumbling over a piece of broken training bot. He quickly recovered, straightened himself up to full height and walked briskly over to them before giving a stiff bow.

“So glad you could join us, Oxton,” said Reyes, turning to look at Tracer, his hands on his hips.

“Reyes?” Mercy’s voice was steel wire-tight, “May we speak?”

“Sure, Ange, what--” Reyes started but Mercy grabbed him by the loose sleeve of the hoodie and practically dragged him through the doors of the training area’s control room.

“Wait, shouldn’t we--” Tracer started feebly after them but the steel doors of the room slammed behind them. Tracer, Genji, and Winston all vaguely made out the muffled sounds of Mercy yelling at Reyes on the other side of the doors.

“What were you thinking?! What was that?!”

“What are you yelling at me for? I just thought he should get a little warmed up and the newbie should get some idea of--”

“Some idea of what?! We’ve only barely scratched the surface of the effects the chronal disassociation is having on her physical abilities and you’re throwing up these warzones like---”

“Hey, I just set up his usual training bot session, Doc, you got a problem with Genji’s style, you take that up with him--”

“I don’t have a problem with Genji’s ‘style’--! I--Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing---! Is this some other play?! Are you--”

Winston cleared his throat. “We should probably...”

“Right..” said Tracer a little sheepishly.

The three of them edged away from the steel doors. Genji glanced over at Tracer, who didn’t seem to know whether to even look at him as they walked themselves out of earshot of the argument.

“So you’re the new recruit from the flight program,” said Genji, folding his arms and trying to sound as casual as possible.

“Ah...y-yeah!” Tracer blurted out. She cleared her throat and stuck her hand out, “Lena Oxton! Callsign Tracer! Reporting for du--” blue light suddenly flared brightly around her from the glowing object on her chest and she seemed to catch herself, clearing her throat, “er... reporting for duty,” she said extending her hand again, which had somehow jerked back to her side with the blue glow.

Genji moved to extend his organic hand, found that that would be awkward with the hand Tracer had chosen to shake with, then hesitantly extended his prosthetic. She shook his hand so hard it jostled up his whole arm before she caught herself and withdrew her hands to her side, clearing her throat.

“Ah so that’s...” Genji started.

“Yeah it’s a thing,” said Tracer, glancing down.

“Well...” Genji gestured up and down himself, “This... is also a thing.”

“I can see that,” said Tracer with a bit of a nervous giggle. They both gave a glance to Winston.

“Oh!” Winston perked up and started unconsciously signing as he spoke, “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. Winston. I’ll be on the science team overseeing Tracer’s condition with the chronal accelerator. Along with Doctor Ziegler. So we’ll be watching while you’re training together!”

“I see,” said Genji, “And you’re...”

“From the moon,” said Winston.

“From the moon,” Genji repeated, both of them silently agreeing that they didn’t have to go into the ‘gorilla’ part of things. He glanced back at Tracer. “Look--” Genji started but then caught himself, “I--if I scared you back there...”

“You didn’t scare me!” Tracer blurted out.

Both Genji and Winston gave her steady looks and Tracer stiffened her shoulders slightly, “I mean... y’know it’s... nothing I can’t handle. Really!” she put her hands on her hips and huffed, “You’re pretty tame compared to some of the things I’ve seen,” she said. She was trying to inject an adventurous sense of swagger into her voice, but her youth undermined a lot of that.

Genji tilted his head slightly, studying her, and she made eye contact but didn’t sustain it for too long. He was used to that at this point. The red eyes were off-putting for a lot of people, but then his eyes flicked to Winston, then down at the chronal accelerator glowing in Tracer’s chest. There was something simultaneously familiar and alienating standing in their presence, and hearing the faint muffled sounds of Ziegler and Reyes arguing on the other side of the door, there was a spark of kinship between the three of them. Three people who wouldn’t have any place in the world without Overwatch.

“So how do we start?” said Tracer.

“Start?” said Genji, “Now?”

“Well, Doctor Z said you already went through all this stuff to re-learn coordination with all your...” Tracer gestured up and down at him, “Whatnot. And I figure, the sooner for me, the better, right? So lesson one, Teach! Let’s hear it!”

“Uh...” Genji rubbed the back of his head.

“Perhaps you could begin with assessment?” Winston suggested, “Establish what level of combat training Tracer should start with?”

The fastest way to do that is sparring, Genji thought and he got a horrifying mental image of Ziegler and Reyes emerging from their argument in the control room only to walk in on him punching Morrison’s beloved time-hopping newbie in the face.

“The first step to training is.... establishing the training space!” Genji blurted out. He vaguely remembered some lectures from his Shimada clan trainers indicating something similar, but the force that propelled those words from his mouth were more of the ‘70% panic’ variety.

“Establishing the training ground?” Tracer tilted her head.

“You can’t train in a cluttered space,” Genji pointed at the countless broken bits of training bots strewn across the training grounds, “You can start by cleaning those up.”

“...isn’t that your mess?” said Tracer.

“Who’s the teacher here?” said Genji, folding his arms.

“Right! Of course! Sorry!” said Tracer with a sharp salute before zipping off in a blue streak. Genji flinched hard at how inhumanly fast she moved and she seemed to catch herself as well, skidding to a halt on her heels. “Winston!” she called out excitedly, “Did you see that!? I did the thing! I did the speedy thing again!! I didn’t even think about it!! You’re such a good teacher, Genji!”

“I know,” said Genji, trying to look off stoically as Tracer zipped around the training grounds, picking up broken training bot bits and laughing between flashes of blue light.

“...you don’t know what ‘the speedy thing’ is, do you?” said Winston, very quietly.

“No,” Genji replied, also very quietly.

“You’re making this up as you go along,” Winston said flatly.

“It’s called ‘adapting,’” said Genji. He could still feel Winston’s eyes on him, skeptical. “I can adapt,” Genji said, mostly to himself as Tracer threw a bunch of training bot parts into a recycling bin with a loud clatter.

#overwatch #overwatch fic #genji shimada #tracer #angela ziegler

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docholligay · 3 years

Note

Please rant/rave (well, we already know which one it will be here) about Harry Potter!

GEE I HOPE THIS WAS WORTH WAITING FOR

OH MY GOD. The level of hatred I have for Harry Fucking Goddamn Potter, the culture around Harry Fucking Potter, extending its poisonous tentacles even to the concept of young adult fiction, fantasy, and the United Kingdom as a country and people.

When you being on this, you may think, “Oh, Doc will explain that Harry Potter sucks because JKR hates trans women” and I will say, oh no, dear reader, that is a fantastic reason to hate the author, and I really suggest we all continue to hate her, and perhaps not purchase the QUEEN’S TONNES of officially licensed merchandise and movies and theme parks that give her stupid little fucking hands all that cash, but no, that is not why I hate the work. There are a number of great works done by terrible people, and the further out the lens of history gets the truer this is.

I hate Harry Potter because it fucking sucks, and mentally stifled an entire fucking generation.

“Well, Doc, Harry Potter was really there for me when--” Oh my god I could not fucking care LESS about your personal emotion connection to “orphan wizard boy turns out to be a rich aristocrat yet somehow less woke than Cinderella though” I have personally emotional connections to hot fucking garbage pails of media properties, and if someone came barreling through talking about the myriad ways in which they were horrible, I would be like, “Oh, you aren’t fucking wrong, pal”

Harry Potter gained wild ass popularity in part due to its magnificent sorting system of Smart, Brave, Evil, and Other, because there’s nothing liberals like more than being able to put everyone’s personality into an easily labeled box, which is why astrology is so popular, or for the intellectuals, Myers-Briggs, which is just as fake but with the veneer of science. This allowed people to give into the tribalism they so desperately liked to pretend they did not possess, and also allow them to write thinkpieces about “The misunderstood Hufflepuff” or “Slytherins aren’t all bad!” or really anything that allows them to write a very real piece about their very imagined oppression for being a part of a totally fake house in a children’s book. Excellent use of your sociology degree, Kai, I thought the addition of phrases like, ‘Content of socialization” and “axes of oppression” really spoke to the struggles you face when wearing a green and silver scarf.

The other reason it became popular is that it’s essentially wallpaper paste formed into characters. I have read all of the books, and I could not tell you even remotely what Harry’s defining personality traits are other than “protagonist”. In American, at least, a large part of it was the fascination with all things British, with the idea of boarding school and prefects and uniforms that aren’t inexplicably chinos and polo shirts for nine year olds. It allowed children to project onto something so bland that it could be anything. And for children, THAT’S FINE. There is a great deal of bland media made for children, but what I’m speaking to is the fandom, which is largely well over the age of 18.

Because if we look at the books, are they...actually good? Was it good, or did I experience it as a child? I mean, honestly, on a literary level, are they, or was it just like we all watched Friends, we did it because everyone else was doing it, because I have a distinct memory of a series that involves such greats as “magical geegaws with poorly defined rules that are quickly forgotten despite being able to solve later problems quickly” or “Everyone loves Harry or is a bad guy, or secretly loved Harry all along”

Oh, speaking of, man, if this was an actual well-written book, wouldn’t it have been wild to have Snape’s whole thing be to teach us that sometimes people do good things for the wrong reasons? Instead of naming your fucking child after the guy who ‘protected you’ because he still wanted to bone your mom? “After all this time” “Always.”

While all this could have been explained, we have Quidditch added into the mix instead because 20 pages of the goddamn Puppy Bowl is exactly what I was looking for while I was waiting for JK to move the goddamn ball on literally any of these actual magical concepts.

Harry Potter is a fucking trust fund baby, star quarterback, who grows up to be a cop and marries his high school sweetheart. (Speaking of, why were we shocked that JKR turned out to be a piece of shit when this was and always has been the conclusion of Harry Potter? Why are liberals so fucking into this series that upholds structures like it ain’t no one’s business? It’s a series that opines that those beneath us “Muggles” should be kept in the dark from us) Literally, he finds out he is a wizard and has a dragon-guarded fucking VAULT OF CASH. At 11. It’s such a series for little tyrants, you are special from birth and need do nothing to prove it, here is a letter certifying as such. Oh, not only are you rich and the greatest seeker and have excellent quips, but also your parents were not only rebels, but the best of rebels, and so deeply involved that your parents were killed by the big bad personally, again, because you are so special. His mother’s love literally saves his ass over and over again, because he was SO SPECIAL. He fought Voldemort FROM THE BEGINNING, and WON. It’s literally the most privilege baby fantasy in the world.

“But Doooooooooooc, it’s for chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiildren”

A) Yeah, and you’re 32, you’re making my fucking point about Harry Potter setting an entire generation up for intellectual failure to launch.

B) Okay, and? I can think of a bunch of kids’ books off the top of my head that in no way require specialness to be given by birth so as to roll out the red carpet for master protagonist. The Hunger Games. Watership Down. A Series of Unfortunate Events. The Chronicles of FUCKING NARNIA, about which I have only a small handful of particularly kind things to say. I’ve never read Percy Jackson, but it’s my understanding that despite his being a literal demigod, the attitudes of the supporting cast are allowed to fall between the extremes of “Appreciates Percy” and “naughty or will learn” Harry does nothing to improve himself even after knowing that he is HUNTED BY THE BIG BAD! “I won’t do this because I don’t like Snape”. So There” which, again, if this series were written with the slightest bit of care or know-how, could be a humbling fucking plot point! BUT NO THAT WOULD BE NAUGHTY.

But the real reason I hate Harry Potter so much has everything to do with the fandom surrounding it, and how it intellectually stunted a generation of adults. The promise of Harry Potter was that it was supposed to make a new generation of readers, and so the popularity of them was pushed, and so there was discussion of teaching them in schools, but I tell you fucking what, I know a whole lot more folks who grew up reading Harry Potter that never advanced beyond reading YA, or even just rereading the entire series every year and that’s pretty much them done and dusted.

In the attempt to recapture whatever it was about Harry Potter that attracted children (A lot of it was your peers doing it. I read them all as they came out, and it was literally the equivalent of watching the game so you could talk at the water cooler. That was never going to be recaptured) people, who by this time were likely in their teens, kept getting recommended stuff at the same and same level. No one ever felt pushed to read things that are challenging, to read things that have some of the concepts or themes of Harry Potter but maybe complicate. I know FAR more adults who read adult books that aren’t into Harry Potter, even if they were as children, than the reverse.

But Doc, why is reading only books meant for 14 year olds a problem??? I mean I suppose I can’t convince you that comfort is not the job of literature or of life, it is the job of an easy chair, because Americans especially are decadent as fuck about being comfy cozy all the time and if anything causes them distress or pain it should be immediately avoided. But Maybe I can convince you that you’re fucking up these books for actual ass children who deserve to have their own writing section without adults bringing their fucking asses into it. They deserve their own spaces. There’s a number of YA editors who have talked about the difficult space YA now occupies because since Potter’s blowup, it’s no longer a niche category, but basically “adult easy reads” and so they have been buying books that are more about the tastes of adult buyers than of literal 14 year olds.

Is that not...sad? To anyone else? Honestly, and this is not part of the essay because it’s a broader reaching problem, but CHILDREN’S MEDIA IS NOT FOR US. CHILDREN’S MEDIA IS NOT FOR US. CHILDREN’S MEDIA IS FOR FUCKING CHILDREN. The fucking 40-23 set really needs to get their shit together and grow up a little bit and engage in some fucking adult media, and maybe, if we support what we’re actually looking for FOR ADULTS, it will come to us. No one is saying you can’t read Harry Potter or watch some Cartoon Network show, but like, search your heart and come the fuck on. Engage in something more complex. If not for yourselves, for the kids getting shoved into simplified adult stories. It should not be about us.

ANYWAY, my larger point is that it was Harry Potter, a badly written series about a magical boy who was chosen and magic and also rich and also a favorite of the headmaster and also more clever than most adults and also spoke the same magical snake language as the big bad and was also star quarterback, but at least there was a system in which you could buy a scarf in block colors and feel like you belonged to a team.

(But not a sports team! lol handegg! I’m cool I don’t get into sports! Except Quidditch.)

#TO say nothing of the fact that I haven't been able to wear gold and burgundy together without some dumbass comment for years #despite being a favored color combination #Anonymous #Eight Days 2020 #Holligay Rants and Raves #I didn't even GET to every point I had but it's been over an hour #GOD I HATE THIS FUCKING SERIES SO MUCH #Doc do you hate me for liking it?#oh sweet thing allow me to reassure you: Yes. Absolutely.#also the prose is god-awful #I've taught teenagers with better rpose

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hanijunk · 3 years

Text

Alright boys, girls, and nonbinary folks of the world. It’s 5:36am (1/30 when I first started) as I decide to give up on my attempt to continue to focus on learning statistics, avoid studying for my two upcoming midterms, and put off my two actual essays for two different classes.

Instead we’re going into a dive about ✨ KazuFuuma ✨ . Is this me telling you you gotta ship it? No of course not, you’re entitled to your own ships! You don’t really gotta care about it as a ship. But I do want people to recognize it’s THERE canonically, and how disregarding it is extremely unfair to Kazuki as a character particularly. Also, I’m working on the assumption anyone clicking this at least knows the bare bones about what KazuFuuma (ex. You know they are a ship of Kazuki/Fuuma from Dolce, you know they are childhood friends, you know who Dolce is, you know about Honeyworks, etc.) I’ll be making references to specific things, but I won’t always go into heavy detail. Might just hope you know it or take my word for what it is, and go into analyzing it. Some I’ll put direct references to find, but some I’ll trust you can find it yourself. If you somehow read this MAMMOTH and want reference to a specific thing mentioned, hmu I can help you find it!!

Also I hate tumblr formatting sm if you legit wanna read this 7 page essay but hate tumblr format lmk I'll add it as a google doc link instead too. anYWHO

Before actually getting into the meat of things lemme preface some stuff.

Again it’s like almost 6am so this will be disorganized and very train of thought (and likely long due to the fact when I fly by the seat of my pants I’m known to get unnecessarily extensive). It’s definitely gonna be in large part why it’s important to recognize as a romantic relationship foundation and what about it shapes Kazuki’s character in particular. Maybe a bit of how it’s been built up and its general focus and implications. Dunno yet. We’ll see LMAOO

I say f*ck. Not a lot, just a handful of times. This ain’t something scholarly this is for my own enjoyment so if you don’t like that might not wanna read. And it’s not like spitefully I just curse a lot if you haven’t...read my tags before lol

Again this is through the lens of a Kazuki stan. Of COURSE I’m going to have some level of bias, but if anything that bias may help more than hurt because that means I become FIXATED and think a lot about Kazuki. Which plays into establishing just how important it is that Kazufuuma’s relationship is recognized, especially in a romantic light at this point. Lmfao.

I’ll have a few more prefaces about the actual content below but to keep this from getting too long if you wanna read come below the cut owo

I have extremely limited knowledge of Japanese just taking a few classes in highschool (so like 3 yrs ago) and live in America. This means a lot of my knowledge is gathered through the english translations of the super duper incredible and lovely people in the Honeyworks fandom who provide translations (delaix and takanenene esp have provided so much for me being able to understand Dolce) and my own limited Japanese paired with Google Translate for things that remain untranslated.

This only will be drawing on information I have come in contact with and have access to and making assumptions based on that, most (if not all) of which is in the public domain. So things like the Dolce Manga Volumes released via Animate, exclusive 4komas, and Light Novels are out of my area for the most part (apart from again snippets of translations thanks to this fandom’s godlike and generous translators).

I will not be drawing on anything from the first Dolce album with the exception of Nade Nade. From a meta standpoint, I consider those songs as songs made as performance media as opposed to character explorations. Nade Nade is the exception because (1) it was released a whole year before the album and (2) you can tell it’s explicitly an exploration of Fuuma and Kazuki’s interpersonal relationship even if it’s in a slightly more performance based context than the songs that came out with the Dolce LNs. Easiest parallel I can make to show this is if you held Non-Fantasy, Yume Fanfare, and Samishigariya up against each other, you could tell the difference in intended audience and intended purpose the same way the Dolce 1st album, Nade Nade, and the songs of the LNs do respectively. Even if there is some basis to ground Kazufuuma, for the purposes of this essay I’ll be acting under the assumption the 1st album falls under the Non-Fantasy equivalent category.

THAT WAS A LOT OF PREFACING CONSIDERING LIKE 2 PPL WILL PROBABLY READ IT I just have a tendency to anytime I do anything analytical lay down ground acknowledgements for myself to work on just...cuz it makes me feel less guilty for any accidental misinformation even if I’m writing towards my future self to read lolll IM SORRY WITHOUT FURTHER TO DO HERE’S THE BRAIN DUMP

First let’s go ahead and establish why it needs to be recognized as an important relationship. Again, I’m a Kazuki stan. He’s my favorite character not only of Dolce but also of the entire Honeyworks series, and as much as I love him for reasons outside the ship, whether you like it or not Kazufuuma is an essential aspect of his character and narrative. Of course there’s the fact that him and Fuuma are childhood friends, so that’s going to in part define their characters and interactions with each other and those around them. They’re both going to be relevant to one another and important to one another’s stories to an even greater extent than the rest of the members of Dolce. But on Kazuki’s side at least, it’s an EXTREME amount. A running plotpoint in Dolce Diary is the sheer amount of dedication Kazuki has to Fuuma and how much his thoughts and decisions are influenced by Fuuma, whether it be how he feels happiest spending time with Fuuma, how he decided to get his piercing to represent he wanted to protect Fuuma, how he doesn’t want to dislike food so he can eat what Fuuma dislikes, etc. Not to mention running jokes about his borderline overprotectiveness and downright possessiveness of Fuuma, how proud he is when Fuuma gets praised, or that one 4koma that literally explicitly states he can read Fuuma’s mind when he thinks motherfucking ‘dirty thoughts’ about his childhood friend (Fuuma). I still don’t know what the fuck to make of that last bit. Genuinely. Or the fact it’s a fucking running joke. As in it’s not a one off. It’s been brought up multiple times. Kazuki what the fuck.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t have character outside of Fuuma or he doesn’t interact with people other than Fuuma. He’s great friends with Sara, Girisha, and Kippei and is shown time and time again to have fun interactions with all of them, generally acting as the best support friend for every member of the group, not Fuuma alone. For instance how he helps Kippei with his self confidence issues or stays over at Sara’s to protect him from a cockroach (which he fails at lol). Nor is that to say all his interactions involving Fuuma focus solely on his devotion to Fuuma, especially in instances where the manga focuses on Dolce as a group dynamic (though even in that setting there are times where jokes about his devotion are thrown in). He’s kind, he’s stupid, he’s friendly, he’s an amazing character in his own right, and I love him for all those reasons. But that doesn’t change the fact a major part of his character and his character interactions are rooted in Fuuma, and arguably some of his most interesting, eccentric, and notable behaviors and traits revolve around Fuuma (again the mind reading for example).

Hell let’s take it one step further. If you look at the character bios of the Dolce members, you get everyone’s motives for being an idol and interests. Of them, Kazuki is the only one to have another character mentioned directly, not to mention that supporting Fuuma is explicitly stated to be his primary motive as to why he became an idol. Not even Fuuma’s sister is mentioned, though two arguments can be made for this. The first would be that Fuuma’s backstory about wanting to fulfill his dream for himself and his sister was decided later to explain Fuuma’s choice to crossdress though it can be argued it was intentionally done to leave it as a reveal at a later date, to which I would argue I don’t think this backstory was a choice in post. While Fuuma’s dedicated Dolce Diary extra exploring that backstory was released a little less than a year after Dolce was revealed, the preview to set up Fuuma’s backstory was actually the first thing released after the character bios on the Dolce Official Twitter page if you exclude a drawing of Dolce from Yamako. The second argument could be that information about his sister was intentionally withheld to set up the reveal when Fuuma’s extra released to explore it. However, going by that logic (which I do agree with), that would also mean that Fuuma’s inclusion and importance in Kazuki’s character bio also set up his dedicated extra, which I don’t think would be incorrect to assume considering what his actual extra turned out being.

Which brings me to the thing that makes it inexplicable to write off the romantic implications behind Kazufuuma: Kazuki’s dedicated Dolce Diary extra, Suki. I shipped Kazufuuma before even knowing of Suki, sure. But the fact that Suki even exists is a shock to me and drove into me the fact that Kazufuuma wasn’t just my own projection. Again, it’s not a surprise that Fuuma shapes Kazuki’s life. They’re childhood friends, of course they’re going to be important to each other. But this extra explicitly brought Kazuki’s feelings towards Fuuma under a direct spotlight. At first I was thinking oh, this extra was just to acknowledge the fact that Kazuki and Fuuma’s relationship can have romantic implications, but the end of it the conclusion that we got was that it didn’t matter what type of “like” he felt for Fuuma. Originally, I thought it wasn’t anything more than saying there are all types of like, and it doesn’t always need to be explicitly defined, but I appreciated the fact they were aware that they were writing Kazuki in a way that conveyed romantic implications.

Then I thought about it because, again, I love Kazuki of course I’m going to think about his character extra, and realized...that’s not how these character extras have worked. There are only three character extras out as far as I know and have read: Fuuma, Kippei, and Kazuki. If we look at Fuuma and Kippei’s, each extra had a conclusion, sure, but they didn’t have a resolution. Rather, they were simply setting up explicitly what each character’s primary character arc and conflict were. Fuuma’s extra brought attention to the fact that he’s particularly a crossdressing idol by exploring the motives behind it. His choice to be a crossdressing idol is constantly under fire both by himself and the world around him. He’s not immune to those who consider his crossdressing strange, and a part of his story is both finding people who accept his decision to crossdress and to succeed for himself as a crossdressing idol. It’s an essential part of how we understand and define him as a character and it’s a central part of how he interacts with the world around him. For Kippei, it lays the severity of his insecurity under the spotlight and his journey and motives for improving himself. Again, this isn’t something isolated and resolved in the extra; his extreme insecurity and negativity is constantly affecting how he interacts with practically everyone from his fellow Dolce members to his fans despite the fact in all honesty? He’s fucking insanely talented in his own right, his own brother mentioning how smart he is and how he has amazing reflexes. For Kippei, his negativity is an essential part of how we understand and define him and central to how he interacts with the world as much as Fuuma’s decision to crossdress is to him.

Which brings us back to Kazuki, of course. In his dedicated extra, in the chapter that’s supposed to explore and establish and bring attention to an essential part of his character, the aspect of himself under investigation is how he feels about Fuuma. It’s not just how he behaves around Fuuma, it’s explicitly an exploration of his feelings, on top of the fact it’s explicitly an exploration about whether or not he likes Fuuma r o m a n t i c a l l y. Literally the conflict is spurred on by someone outright asking “Do you like him?” and having to clarify “I mean romantically.” What they decided to focus on for Kazuki’s character and emphasize and establish is that Kazuki’s like towards Fuuma toes the line between friendship and romance. His ambiguous feelings towards Fuuma (if we leave them inconclusive as Suki did) are just like Fuuma’s crossdressing and Kippei’s insecurity in the sense the weight of whatever those feelings may be are seen in how he interacts with the world around him and influences his behaviors. It would be another story if they introduced the potential and shut it down all within the extra, because then his central conflict would to me be less directly open to romantic potential and more simply about how his arc was meant to explore the dynamic of the behavior of an extremely dedicated best friend. The fact that he may be romantically attracted to Fuuma or may be only platonically dedicated to Fuuma is instead something that looms over Kazuki in the same way Fuuma’s decision to crossdress constantly looms over him. It’s what Dolce wanted to point to and say this is Kazuki’s central character conflict and central arc: exploring what type of feelings he has towards Fuuma.

Sure, it can be argued that there’s only three Dolce Diary character extras, there’s not enough to be sure about that being the purpose of the extras unless we get the other two’s extras. First, at this point I honestly don’t know if or when they’re going to release an extra revolving around Sara and Girisha just because not only has it been over a year and a half since the latest Dolce Diary Character Extra (Kazuki’s) was released despite the gap between the first and latest Dolce Diary Character Extra (Fuuma’s and Kazuki’s) were within a year of release but also because the Dolce 4komas and comics they’ve been posting to Twitter have decreased (last one being over half a year ago) potentially due to them deciding to focus on releasing Dolce manga content through the purchasable volumes instead. (This is not particularly related to the Kazufuuma argument, just wanted to put out there my two cents on what Sara and Girisha’s extra/focal arc would be. Based on a large part of the Dolce Diary in conjuncture with Can’t an Idol Fall in Love, I’d argue Sara’s would be his journey to regain his passion for performing, and if it’s not that I’d say it’d be coming out of his self-imposed isolation and opening up to people again. As for Girisha, I have less of a concrete idea but I’m assuming it’d be something pertaining to how people often misconceive him whether it be in tandem with his determination, his optimism and sociability, or his stupidity/ability to ignore those misconceptions and work past them. But Girisha is treated like the comedic relief 90% of the time so I’m not entirely sure, but his primary conflict is definitely rooted in misconceptions of him being his roadblock imo. #MoreGirishaContentPlz) That being said, I personally feel like the three are already enough evidence, especially considering it would be honestly even more cruel for Kazuki’s character-centric extra to be focusing on something that wasn’t essential to his character and character arc, anyway. And though it’s not explicitly stated that these chapters are extras exploring a central character, you can kind of tell based on how they are (to my knowledge) the only Dolce Diary updates with cover/title cards each which include their focal character front and center. So working off that fact, the Kazuki-centric chapter established that a pillar to his narrative was his feelings towards Fuuma and that those feelings are still open to romantic potential.

But if you follow me, this is why up until Can’t an Idol Fall in Love With Another Idol’s release, I was terrified of them writing that off. I would have been ok if it was just an arc that was given attention then continued to actively work in the background, as all the character arcs have been over all of Dolce’s content. The fact that they might be giving Fuuma a love interest and giving Fuuma a love arc while Kazuki’s feelings were still up in the air and were still the primary highlighted narrative for him would have been fucking scuffed. To me, it would be like… why would they make him so Fuuma-centric to the point that even his dedicated chapter was not just focused on Fuuma but focused on the ambiguity and potential of him having romantic feelings for Fuuma, yet reduce him to being Fuuma's designated right-hand man. Don’t get me wrong, friendships are just as important as romantic relationships. But again, rather than conclude Kazuki’s answer in Suki to be that his feelings were of friendship, they left it open ended and allow audience members to be actively aware that Kazuki’s feelings towards Fuuma still had potential to be romantically coded. It would just be so weird to quickly close off that narrative by giving Fuuma a love interest as opposed to letting Kazuki conclude it himself. It would be fucking beyond frustrating for me, at least Eventually, I kept trying to drive my hopes that they would explore Kazuki’s narrative at all down to the ground because it was a Fuuma-centric novel; maybe if anything they’d explore those feelings in his own novel after the fact. But then they kept having little drops here and there of Kazuki being even the slightest bit relevant and I’d go back to questioning “Are??? They??? Is this on purpose??? Do they know what they’re doing or are they just doing this because Kazuki’s just so important to Fuuma as his best friend that he’s there as his right-hand I genuinely can’t tell???” And um. Welp.

Safe to say Can’t An Idol Fall in Love sold me on the fact that they know what they’re doing LOL. And to anyone who thinks that Kazuki’s feelings can still be read as ambiguous in CAIFILWAI as opposed to explicitly romantic - whether it be due to a fear they may pull the “I like him as a friend” card or due to the disbelief that they have an explicit mlm main character in the Honeyworks series - I’d like to cover any bases that may make you think this way. If you think it’s just Kazuki acting like a protective friend, why do you think he calls Yui a rival? If you’ve only seen the MV and think it’s ambiguous or can be taken as the "likfe" for friend, then does that mean you think Yui’s feelings toward Fuuma are also ambiguous or as a friend? With the way Yui responds, she is trying to rival Kazuki’s feelings towards Fuuma. She and Kazuki recognize whatever feeling it is that they hold towards Fuuma, both of their feelings are the same type. I don’t think most people would argue that Yui’s confession about Fuuma was one of pure respect and friendship. Plus, if anything I’d argue of the three characters in the MV, Fuuma is the one whose feelings are left the most ambiguous despite him being the central character. It’s heavily implied that he may be forming feelings for Yui, but nowhere is it established either in the song or in the MV, especially if you compare it to Kazuki and Yui’s declarations or if you compare it to Sara’s feelings for Uru in Can’t An Idol Fall in Love. Fuuma’s romantic narrative here is trying to figure out how he feels for Yui, while for Kazuki and Yui they’ve established a rivalry because they both have mutually established they like Fuuma romantically.

If the MV isn’t enough for you and Suki isn’t enough for you for...some reason…??? You can check out the snippets of the light novel which the wonderful takanenene translated: one which revisits the conflict set up in Suki and one that covers the confession scene in the MV in more detail. If the fact that the conflict set up in Suki (aka the lurking feeling of not knowing if all he felt for Fuuma was only platonic or more than platonic) was specifically reestablished in the LN for anyone who didn’t keep up with Dolce Diary didn’t tip you off that it was something important, his behavior in the confession scene as depicted by the LN definitely should have. He’s possessive about his spot by Fuuma’s side. He doesn’t want that spot to be taken by anyone else. Even if he knows that they can help Fuuma, he wants it to be him. And this line: “Kazuki then trails off his words, quietly saying ‘That’s why…’ and then gave Yui a slightly painful smile, his cheeks turning red,” before he declares Yui a rival and states he likes Fuuma. If you can tell me you read that line and are still on the fence about Kazuki’s “like” towards Fuuma being romantic, please message me and I will see how I can get through to you. Like it wasn’t even just a romantically coded confession. It’s just a romantic confession. That “like” is romantic. And I’m so proud that he’s not only come to understand for himself how he feels, but that he’s confident enough to ask the person he sees as a romantic rival to speak in private and not only clarify her feelings for Fuuma but before she can even do that firmly establishes that he loves Fuuma with conviction. Kazuki my boy I’m so proud of you. *sniffs*

And that’s it for establishing Kazufuuma as at least canonically one-sidedly canon and why there’s not only no reason to deny it but also why denying it is a fucking disrespectful move towards Kazuki. He’s a character, sure, but that doesn’t change the fact you shouldn’t write off his struggle to come to be convicted enough to say it out loud. This has been something weighing on him at least a year, if not more (all I know is it started when both he and Fuuma were in some year in middle school). And as a character in a piece of media, I’ve been saying this the entire time, but brushing it off as non-romantic is literally chucking a fucking pillar of his character’s story into the gutter. And to those who may be saying Kazuki’s confession came out of nowhere and is pandering reread this entire fucking essay again I dare you to do it and tell me to my face it’s pandering. Again. Writing off the buildup as pandering is disrespectful to him, disrespectful to his character and narrative, and disrespectful to the wonderful people who have been creating Dolce so diligently and have crafted this narrative for us. Saying his “supposed feelings” and “ambiguous confession” is pandering is like saying Fuuma’s crossdressing is pandering which. If you say either of those I will find you and I will shank you in the fucking gut. Even if you’re not fully into Dolce, recognize these characters are actually very well developed and executed amazingly, as per every Honeyworks character that has come to exist. I don’t blame you if you weren’t aware of the weight of Kazufuuma, but now that you read this I hope you are. That’s mainly what I needed to get out there, but as follows will be me more exploring how Kazufuuma has been built up and generally waving my hand off at where it may be going. If you want you can dip, thanks for reading up to here because I know I repeated a lot because it’s just. So important to drill into your head and has been something I’ve been hung up about constantly. LOL

As for where exactly they’re taking it from this point on, I honestly don’t know. In all honesty, I didn’t even expect them to take it the direction they did. But honestly, I think the direction they went with it is really interesting and better than I could have imagined, in my opinion at least. Honeyworks never ceases to amaze me with their storytelling and narrative choices, and I don’t think there’s any that stand out to me as being severely questionable that they haven’t reapproached at some point down the line. And, again, I think they’re treating this with a lot of care and deserved respect. So I’m just gonna be gushing about how smart they set it up and how smart they’ve been executing it and maybe my own hopes on the direction it could go.

Whether they make Kazufuuma reciprocated I have no real clue or bearings, but to me my gut reaction is they will. Of course, I’m biased, but again if you trace things all the way back to 2018 and step through Dolce’s content and growth from there, I’d say even if they didn’t know if they could execute it like this and see it to fruition, I’d argue that Kazufuuma has been at least heavily implied since the beginning as a relationship they wanted to explore from both sides of the relationship. Obviously I brought up Kazuki’s character bio already, but if you look at the *goes to count* 5th Dolce Diary update already has a joke jabbing at the fact that Kazuki is technically Fuuma’s type (and the way Kippei and Kazuki excitedly react is so cute). The fifth update. And as stated before there are tons of Kazufuuma moments in Dolce Diary, whether it’s played for comedic effect or played straight (and this is post Suki but oh my god I’ve said it before I’ll say it again get yourself someone who looks at you the way Kazuki looks at Fuuma oh my jesus). But song-wise, I mentioned the one Dolce album song I would bring up is Nade Nade and this is where it comes!

Not only is Nade Nade specifically focused on Kazuki and Fuuma’s relationship as opposed to the whole of Dolce despite being the first song, it included the setup/preview of the Fuuma-centric extra prior to the full release of the Fuuma-centric extra itself and was released early as fuck. Literally between the 6th and 7th update to Dolce Diary. Sure, it could be to isolate them as a duo for marketing purposes (they’re very often the two promoted idols together if the whole of the group aren’t included), but the way it’s established as a perspective song as opposed to a general idol duet is what fascinates me. Anyone who didn’t know about Dolce prior and only followed Honeyworks for music would be first introduced to these characters through this song alone, and maybe this is where my Kazufuuma bias comes from but I was one of those people LOL. I thought it was just a cute one-off relationship that they had set up for the purpose of a song and that it was an implied friends-to-lovers story that would never get a conclusion. Also I mistakenly thought Fuuma was a girl oop-. In the full context of Dolce, this song in part helped establish Fuuma and Kazuki more solidly as a unique duo out of all of Dolce, but it also specifically explored through Fuuma’s eyes just how much Fuuma recognizes and appreciates the unwavering support Kazuki gives him to follow his dreams as he wishes. For Fuuma, he loves Kazuki too, though whether it holds any romantic potential in the same way Kazuki loves him has never been explored to nearly the same extent. But Fuuma appreciates how Kazuki’s remained by his side and does everything he can to support him, so Nade Nade explores how his way of expressing his love and thankfulness to Kazuki is by never saying that he needs Kazuki by his side. He’s glad Kazuki’s always been there for him, and his reciprocation takes on the form of being ready to unwaveringly support Kazuki and not ask for more than he already has, even if it meant Kazuki would be leaving his side, despite the fact that he really does wish they could remain together forever just as Kazuki does. The one point he lets himself say something vaguely close to always wanting to stay together, he gets a surprised expression out of Kazuki and says an ambiguous “suki dayo.” Of course, this it much less romantically coded than what we get from Kazuki in Suki and CAIFILWAI, but there is an interesting emphasis put on it nonetheless. Keep in mind, this is all established through the song, which released long before not only Fuuma’s character-centric extra released but also Kazuki’s character-centric extra released, so there is at least a substantial setup for Fuuma’s feelings towards Kazuki’s being strong as well and possibly grow to be reciprocated one day.

I think for me the most fascinating part about Nade Nade is how they tied it back around to Can’t An Idol Fall In Love with Another Idol. Again, without remembering Nade Nade, I still thought CAIFILWAI was brilliantly explored and executed, even if some people would have preferred no love triangle. But honestly, revisiting Nade Nade makes me trust even more the direction they’re taking with this. Whether or not they make Kazufuuma canon mutually (which. Even if they for some inexplicable reason didn’t I’m going down with this ship.), I’m sure they’re putting a lot of thought into the story, because the last bit of Nade Nade directly parallels the misunderstanding that arose from Fuuma mishearing the Kazuki and Yui. Fuuma is resolved to support Kazuki in any area he’s given the chance, and that explicitly includes if Kazuki had some girl he liked, which is what he assumes is going on. The fact that they tied this back around in the form of a misunderstanding was really really smart and Honeyworks is always so good at parallels and references back to their older songs, but for some reason I didn’t expect this. I don’t know how to say why, but the fact that the song that started it all, kicked off both Dolce and Kazufuuma, was directly referenced both visually in the MV with a cameo at the start and narratively despite the central dynamic being predominantly explored in this story in particular was that of Fuuma and another potential love interest and involves said potential love interest for some reason makes me think that (sorry Yui) this is all planned out for Kazufuuma in the grand scheme of things. That being said, I don’t know if me thinking it was planned all along is just me with shipper goggles, but the idea it’s come full circle nearly 3 years later is not shipper goggles and a very very well done parallel in my opinion, whether this trajectory was their plan for Kazufuuma from the beginning or not. Just wanted to gush about that some more.

There’s more I could go into especially if I went into specific details about interactions or specific implications established in Honeyworks' Dolce content about different characters that would be fascinating to explore in relation to and under the lens of Kazufuuma, but I think this is uh...plenty long enough. Plus, I doubt you'll stop seeing Kazufuuma posts from me so those ideas will probably just be miniposts or somethin.

Back to the overarching point of this segment, idk what they’ll do with this story in the end, but do I think Kazufuuma will canon? I’m used to looking at ships that aren’t explicitly apparent with a sliver of skepticism, but all things considered (as I stated before) yeah. I don’t see reason why they wouldn’t now that they’ve explicitly identified there is a romantic dimension to it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Like to me, the setup isn’t something that would be written off as unrequited? And this doesn’t have to play into why I don’t think it will canon, my personal opinion on the Fuuyui relationship (again albeit through the lens of a hard Kazufuuma shipper lmao) has it’s own merits and is really cute, I find it cute in the way I found Koyuhina cute. I personally never really shipped Koyuhina, and especially since they slipped Kotarou into Ima Suki Ni Naru I was more curious about who this kid was and how he played into things I didn’t really see Koyuhina as something that would come to fruition. Similarly, there’s more importance in the overall sense on Kazuki than there is Yui (considering he’s one of the 5 original and focal members of this generation of idols, this would be natural), as well as the fact there’s just way more foundation and exploration in Fuuma and Kazuki’s relationship than there is Fuuma and Yui. As for how much of a balance there is inside the LN itself, the fact that they seem to have spent a substantial amount relaying the foundation of Fuuma and Kazuki’s relationship and re-exploring it (at least in Kazuki’s perspective) at all on top of how much content there is covering their relationship prior to the LN ever since Dolce’s origin just feels like that relationship holds more weight. Pretty much Kazufuuma feels more established as a priority in general. The way I personally hope Fuuyui plays out is whether they wind up holding mutual feelings or not or whether Fuuma doesn’t feel that way towards Yui is they get a relationship akin to Kotarou and Arisa. Albeit, Kotarou and Arisa never viewed each other in a romantic light, but they had mutual respect and solidarity. That’s the type of friendship I hope comes out of Fuyui. And considering there hasn’t been a break-up in any Honeyworks’ canon relationships (nor do I expect there to be… they’re all perfect for each other LMAO) it would actually be interesting if Fuuyui get together but don’t endgame and Kazufuuma is established as the inseparable endgame after some realization or another, though I don’t expect them to go that route nor do I know if that’d be the best way to go about it anyway. Also final point, Honeyworks seems to have a thing for childhood friends trope anyway soooooo owo All in all, don’t know where they’re taking it, just excited to see where it goes.

TL;DR of this *counts* 7 page essay, stan Kazufuuma. Not gonna proof this. Maybe I’ll edit and repost but yall are getting a confusing clusterfuck of ramblings over 2-3 hr periods of me writing across 3 different days at around 5am each day. Uh. If you got this far like and subscribe and-- jk plz reply to this mammoth anywhere you see fit or tell me if you have stuffs to add or counter or whatnot I like hearing people talk about Kazufuuma ;w; I am Kazuki and Kazufuuma brainrot can you tell after reading this? No? Lemme just remind you I’m K--

#honeyworks #dolce #kazufuuma #kazuki haiga #fuuma shirayuki #long post #analysis #character analysis #kinda?#nobody cares trash #also keep in mind this is PURELY for self satisfaction LMFAO read it if u wanna dont if u dont idgaf either way #anyway kazufuuma canon fight me #or have intellectual conversation with me #if you want it on a google doc bc it's easier to read hmu #if you can't tell i think about kazufuuma too much #how much of this is repetitive? probably a lot...

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beautifulhigh · 3 years

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Do you think easy is going to have an affair

In a word, no.

Easy is so utterly in love with Ringo, so committed to his marriage, and he's so not that person. In fact that was pretty much the reason why Ringo agreed to let Spohn hit on his (then) boyfriend because he was so utterly convinced that Easy wouldn't cheat on him.

It seems from the spoilers that the issue is Ringo's lack of jealousy - again - and so Easy could be pushing the line, seeing if he can get Ringo to crack. Julius is worried, Ringo is not, and that annoys Easy because sometimes it can be nice to have a little bit of jealousy.

We have been here before, it lead to Ringo saying he wanted an open relationship in order to wind Easy up and then later admitting that his ego doesn't like it when he's jealous...

But this is different. They're married, they have a son (I mean, I'm assuming the adoption has gone through by now?). They don't seem to have any issues or be drifting apart. In fact the clip that @missringsy posted yesterday shows that Ringo is still very much into his husband so I'm pretty sure they're not drifting towards the gay equivalent of lesbian bed death.

I know you didn't ask for a meta but it's been a while I and I feel one coming on about the history that these boys bring to the marriage.

Ringo loves being wanted. He knows he's admired, he knows he's gorgeous, and he has both men and women paying him attention. He was not adverse to one night stands, for him sex is just something you do with people you find attractive. Pre-Easy!Ringo did not do relationships at all. You had fun, you flirted, you got your leg over. Even since the relationship with Easy we have seen him courting that jealousy and enjoying it - not just with Emilia but also when Easy was hit on at the bar. He was so put out that the guy wasn't into him. But everyone wants Ringo! Everyone fancies him!

Easy hasn't been like that. He's been the guy where it means something. He's not flirting with anyone just to get something that he wants (unless that someone is Ringo and what he wants is some adult time). He's also not that aware of how fucking gorgeous he is - he didn't get that Spohn was trying to hit on him until it was made pretty explicit. He just doesn't see it when he's not looking for it. All he sees is Ringo and so someone could send him a bunch of roses and he'd think it was as a thank you for the pep talk in which he pointed out how good looking they were and how nice they were...

Ringo is used to being the cause of jealousy, not experiencing it. When Easy was given the phone number his response was to turn it into a joke, suggest an open relationship, go so far in the other direction to show that he didn't care at all. Jealous? Ringo? Pfft. Don't be daft. Don't even think about it. That caused even more dramas than a little healthy jealousy.

When Easy got jealous over the incident with Vivi (which lead to one of my favourite scenes in which Ringo talks about his bisexuality and the difference between attraction and acting on it) Ringo didn't bat an eye over it because yeah, it makes sense. Same with Emilia. Ringo pretty, people want. But Ringo has the power and the choice in that situation and he chooses Easy, over and over.

So basically we have Ringo who doesn't like being jealous AND knows that Easy wouldn't cheat on him. So why should he get jealous? Why would he care about it? The entire Chippendales troop could show up in their apartment and Easy would offer them drinks and snacks. Maybe take a few artistic pictures for his portfolio. But that's going to be it. Easy couldn't even... y'know ...at the IVF clinic because of the poster of the handsome doc was there. Ringo was the one to quip about it helping but all Easy wanted to think about was his hubby.

We have seen over and over and over and over and over and over and over that Easy only thinks about Ringo in that way, wants Ringo in that way. And that was BEFORE they got married. Of course Ringo isn't going to get jealous. He's not going to willingly indulge in a feeling he knows rationally to be stupid and one that he hates.

But Easy? Easy won't see it that way. He didn't before and I bet that's what is going to happen. Trouble is that now it'll affect Julius - any playing up to the idea of having an affair won't be taken seriously by Ringo but might/will by a kid who has already lost one set of parents and now what if this new set, the two he let himself open to and be around, what if he loses them too?

Basically Ringo needs to be all "das ist mein Mann" every time someone looks at Easy and Easy needs to grow up and not be so childish in trying to make his husband jealous.

But no. I don't think Easy will cheat. Of course last time I said that all the angry anons came into my inbox to yell that it was a soap and that cheating happens. I mean, yeah it could. I'm just saying that right now? I don't see it happening with this.

Ask me again later.

#ringsy #ringo beckmann #easy winter #Otp: love and stuff #overthinking jen is overthinking #been a while since I meta'd #and now I await the angry anons #yelling that it could happen #whatevs #anonymous #jen answers stuff #unter uns #otp: love and stuff

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botwstoriesandsuch · 3 years

Text

Kip v Age of Calamity

For someone who writes tough shit on Age of Calamity, you sure don’t see me writing a better story. So maybe I should stop complaining and be satisfied with what was given to me.

...or...

...maybe we can dedicated a few hours of my time to spite an ask.

Even though the entire argument of “why are you mad if you can’t write a story yourself” is inherently flawed and pointless considering that’s the equivalent of telling me I should chug spoiled milk because I’ve never milked a cow, I’ll fucking step up to the plate here, I’ll put my money where my mouth is.

So here is Part 1 of your residential Kip approved rewrite of Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity. Or as I like to call it:

Ok so before I get into it, a couple things I wanna establish. First, I know I just said I’m doing this out of spite, but I’m actually also doing this for fun. I really enjoy and am passionate about the writing process, so if you were looking for an angry rant about how terrible everyone’s opinions are about everything, this isn’t that. I don’t think that I am a better writer than anyone, or than the professionals that made this game, or that I am somehow superior to Nintendo. I am someone with the benefit of hindsight, I don’t have the constraints of producers and mandated directives and executives rubbing their hands in the story to make it more marketable or dumbed down or any of the other chaos that goes into crafting a videogame. So while obviously I think the people involved in this could have done a much better job, this isn’t a bash to say, “look how easy it is to make a story” because there’s a ton of unseen drama that goes into development that I have the luxury of avoiding, and it’s a miracle that any games are coherent and enjoyable in the first place. I’m just a lil Kip doing a fun lil exercise.

This little series is also not going to be a fanfic. I’m going to be telling the story chronologically as if you were playing for yourself, but it’s going to be from my omniscient perspective because 1) I need to relate the story to the gameplay 2) That would take way too much time to actually make this into a fanfiction as it already takes a hell of a lot of time to even plan out the beats of this rewrite and 3) This is less going to be a telling of a story, and more of a fun little exploration on the Three Act Structure and The Hero’s Journey. In fact, I am going to try and keep the given story of Age of Calamity as intact as possible.

The general ending is going to be the same, the characters used are going to remain roughly unchanged, (there will be no new characters, or removal of characters) and characters that live or die and where they end up are going to be mostly the same with how the original game is written. I know, I know, we all would love to see the Champions die brutally or to get us that sweet sweet Link angst or to have a game with multiple endings. And even though I personally would change some of those premises in Age of Calamity, I’m going to strive to keep it all as intact as possible, just to prove wrong the misconception that the story was only bad because of the writer’s choices for the general arc. I am a firm believer that biggest weaknesses of this game are in its methods of conveying its story, a problem in the storytelling process, and not (necessarily/only) the story product itself.

If you want to use any of the ideas that I present, go for it! I release them into the public domain, I have no plans whatsoever to write a fanfic for this myself, in fact I already have my own separate Pre-Botw fic story that I am pouring myself into, so I give the people full permission to take these ideas off of me.

Alrighty! With all that out of the way, let’s get into:

HERE IS THE VERSION IN A GOOGLE DOC FORM BECAUSE TUMBLR HATES YOU MOBILE PEEPS

Spoilers! Obviously. I’m going to act on the assumption that you know the full story of Age of Calamity to save myself some time, capiche?

Ok so we start out the game roughly the same, with eggbot being chased and forced to time travel into a portal. But, there is going to be some important differences in details.

We have the part of the scene where Zelda awakens her powers, and at the same time, something else in Hyrule Castle glows with the same aura. However, this glow is not coming from the Princess’ Tower, but instead, the camera pulls back from the fields of Fort Hateno, sweeps over Hyrule (where you can see the Guardians and the sense of destruction and all that) and the camera eventually flies over Castle Town, then within the Castle, weaving through the halls, until the camera stop and focuses on the entrance of a destroyed room, slowly creeping in. It’s a room that’s been demolished, stone rubble from Guardian blasts ruin the floor and cave in from the ceiling, there’s a small fire in the corners of the room, and from the props that you can make out, it seems to look like some study or office of some sort. The room is small, but domed and circular, signifying that it’s of a bit more importance than you might think . The desks and books and all buried beneath this collapsed stone brick. But as the camera focuses on that pile of rocks, from within that rubble, you see that same glowing aura that Zelda has, glowing brighter and brighter until finally out pops, eggbot.

Now, you can have that same sequence within the game where he runs around all cute, the outter wall of the room is broken so eggbot can look outside and see the Calamity’s destruction. Then that cut to Zelda saying “I want to save...everyone,” and this is important because I need the fade in between Zelda’s line and the fade back to eggbot to wordlessly imply that he is hearing these words, something that’s already done pretty well in the original cutscene. Anyhow, then the Guardian Stalker pops from behind, prepares to shoot, and eggbot can escape into its little time portal, and then the malice follows or whatever.

However, I’m not gonna immediately cut to the title, but instead, we have the music build to eggbot’s little jump in a pretty climactic way. But then the music still lingers slightly, and rests in suspense, camera is still looking out the window where eggbot jumped. It pulls back, turning back into this room that eggbot emerged from. Music is still relatively silent. Then, from the corner, you see some of the fire suddenly catch onto something. Flattened between the rocky rubble, just a few feet where eggbot emerged, is a purple cloak, trimmed with gold, flapping just slightly in the wind. [Said flapping being what causes it to catch] The fire catches, burning through the cloak, and underneath it, is a fallen copy of the Sheikah tapestry of 10k years ago. Camera zooms into that art of the Calamity, music suspends, merge to title card, then the music hits that climax and BOOM, “Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity.” Main Theme plays. Let the opening title roll.

Now the reason I changed this slightly is because 1) I wanted to earlier set up some of the plot points that I have planned for this (some of which you might already guess or maybe not who knows *wink wink*) and 2) I think that the original opening could have been much stronger with its hook. Yes, the element of mystery is established with eggbot’s existence and that element of time travel, but then the opening immediately goes into saying “This is the tale of champions, a diminutive Guardian who traveled backwards through time, and the Great Calamity they faced.” So...you just dampened that hook you established two seconds ago because you explained it all. Sure, it doesn’t completely ruin it, but I think the impact would be much stronger if that text wasn’t there at all, and the music and hype of the tapestry moving and coming alive is all there was. I’d much rather that element of time travel just be explained through the cinematography itself, because you can already understand that perfectly with that scene where you see the portal lead into birds flying around a beautiful Hyrule Castle.

Also, the music in this game is fantastic! So letting moments that really let you soak it in, I think would be very beneficial. So now this scene serves as a much more effective hook before we get into the actual plot. The mystery of eggbot’s identity is heightened and left a bit more unexplained, you have this mysterious circular room that you’ve never seen before, and the set up of details that will eventually serve later revelations in the plot, cough cough.

Then you hit Chapter 1, Link gameplay, eggbot and the tower, that’s all the same. I got no changes for the story there, it’s a great introduction. However! I know my strength here is writing and I am by no means a game developer or designer, but I need, I absolutely need to add one aspect to the gameplay.

Near the end of the first stage, where there are those three moblins at the end, I want to add something that I’m going to call, a gambit. The game already introduced you to the special meter and “press a to use special attack” thing, but I want Impa and Link to use a gambit to defeat this last horde of moblins. Essentially, you press A to use your special attack, BUT, if another character is in proximity, the attack is even more powerful. Every pair of characters has a special little attack, that does tons of damage, and during said sequence, there are voiced lines, or at the very very least text boxes that comment on it. And with this gambit, while a regular solo special attack still does a lot of damage, I’m gonna nerf it slightly to encourage players to use this gambit feature.

Now, why did I add this? Because I need to better connect this gameplay to the story on more than an external “lets defeat this and go from point A to point B” type of way. I need something in the gameplay to better serve to the game’s main theme of “teamwork makes the dreamwork” and all that. The CURRENT gameplay, although absolutely fun and fantastic, just doesn’t do this. I need just one element to serve this theme while ALSO having the dual purpose of serving as character interaction. The current structure of Age of Calamity works where the sidequests and battle serve as your character interaction, development, and banter, while the cutscenes serve the main story beats, and important plot revelations. The cutscenes just aren’t crafted to support the weight of these dozens of characters while also giving them all interesting interactions, and that’s fine! So I’m just adding this feature to the gameplay, because being able to customize different lines for different characters for different stages that are voiced will go a long way into making the character development seem more fleshed out. And this gambit feature doesn’t necessarily change the way you play the game drastically, as you can still have four character slots and have them split up to take on the battlefield, but now you can split them off into groups of 2. And also, because I’m not completely blind to game design, the damage percentage boost of these gambit attacks will not increase as much, just slightly lower, than the damage boost of a solo attack when you level up. So what I mean is, when your character is weaker level, you are forced to rely on others in order to defeat your enemies, but, with the way the leveling up percents work, your characters can still reach a point where they can defeat big bosses all on their own without gambits. THAT way, when certain events happen in later chapters, when your character is all leveled up, (and maybe they awaken a sacred power or two) it feels all the more powerful when you can go off on your own. You can feel how your character has grown in strength because you can contrast it with your teamwork gameplay of earlier levels. AND it still highlights the importance of that theme of companionship, because you would never have gotten to this level of strength had you not relied on your friends.

OK, so the stage 1 ends with a gambit attack, Impa compliments Link’s fighting style or something that shows her admiration or respect for him. And then stage 2 for the Road to the Royal Lab is the same, but gambit dialogue for that stage is Impa complimenting Link, Impa being protective of Zelda, and since this is Zelda’s first playable area, Zelda’s gambit lines can be about kinda brushing Link aside like “I want to capable to hold my own in battle but thank you” to Link (cause I never really got that same “I don’t really like you” vibe that is established in botw for this game) and then to Impa Zelda’s gambit lines can be like “is this thrill what you always feel when battling?” and Impa is like “yeah isn’t it great we should do it more often!” and then you can allude to that with a sidequest for Zelda’s training or something. I just want to better connect sidequest stories with this stuff. And also, gambits are obviously optional so that’s why this is all just banter and character development and not actually plot points, and I’m going to stick with just one-on-one dialogue, although it should be theoretically possible to have gambit boosts of three and four, but I feel that would be too much as I don’t want to ruin the gameplay balance and encourage you to keep all four character slots close together, because splitting them up is an important part of the game. Anyhow!

So Chapter 1 is done, my changes being almost purely in the gameplay because this is the start of the story and the character set up is important. Chapter 1 to Chapter 2 is basically the establishment of the ordinary world, and in the Three Act Structure it’s basically Act 1. Act 1 is all about set up. I need to really focus this chapter on both introducing the player to the mechanics of the game, having them connect to the characters and the characters connect to each other through the gameplay, and I need to establish this tone so that when I rip it away, and change the tone during the threshold, it feels more meaningful and suspenseful.

As you can see from the diagrams, Act 1 has something called the Inciting Incident. The Inciting Incident is going to be the Yiga attack in Chapter 2, where our heroes first experience the true dangers of their journey, and there is no turning back. BUT I’m getting ahead of myself.

Chapter 2 is also exactly the same. I would literally change nothing about the Champion’s sections (other than my addition of gambit interaction of course) because they’re all pretty great. For the record, yes, evil egg is still a thing, and yes, Zelda and the gang can still discover those pictures of the Calamity in eggbot, yes you beat up Revali, and the Divine Beast sequences are the same. I just really need that gambit dialogue to help establish character relations. Revali quips at Link, Mipha protects him, Daruk is his buddy [I thought a cool gambit attack for Link and Daruk to better show that they are old friends could be them both chewing down on some rocks, before striking an enemy simultaneously. Because they never eat rocks together and I just want this ok] Kohga is the same, Sooga is the same, BUT, for that scene when you first meet Astor in the Yiga base, I need two things to happen. 1) The camera reveal for Astor starts at his cloak, which is intact and NOT tattered like how his design is in game. It’s a deep purple with gold trim, the camera pans up to the back of Astor’s head. Now 2) When the camera moves to look at Astors face, I need him to be standing in front of and staring solemnly at the evil eggbot. He’s frowning, and his eyes suggest something like he’s deep in thought of something in the distant past. That’s how the scene starts, and in the background is Kohga recounting the events of his failure to beat Urbosa and the gang. Then, Kohga can say something funny to annoy him, Astor’s face changes to your classic villain disgust. Then, he can get a bit pissed and go on his little rant about how pathetic the Yiga are and how the Calamity is trapped within the evil eggbot and how he will use his powers to end the Kingdom of Hyrule. Then he can take his little astrolabe and be all “My harbinger, show me the future!” and all that. IMPORTANT LINE CHANGE, Astor’s motivation here is not “The future, as it will and must be. I will not allow anyone to alter its course.” Instead, I need to tweak it slightly to be, “The future, as it was fated to always be. The pathetic stories and legends of children and false kings cannot waver this course. I will not allow it, for my sake…” camera pans to the broken evil guardian, Astor’s voice lowers just slightly. “...and yours.” The slightest, almost silent bits of the harmonies (not the melody) of the Hwaoc Main Theme play before fully fading back to Astor’s theme. And the final shot of that scene is Astor, looking down at the heap of Sheikah tech, with a neutral expression, but then looking back up at the malice stars, and the future visions of the Calamity. He just ever so slightly smiles.

[Also I JUST realized that the harbinger is actually slightly above Astor, because it’s supposed to show that the power dynamic is really Calamity Ganon is in control, so ignore the “looking down” parts I talked about, and just think in the broad direction of Astor looks at the guardian, and then looks further up at the ceiling with the Calamity and the future and then he smiles]

For that scene, I also need to remove any characterization where Astor is laughing and being joyous at the impending destruction, I only need that smile at the end. There is no villainous cartoon laughter, at least, not yet. Also the part where Sooga calls Astor a fool for thinking he can control the Calamity is GREAT I need that, that absolutely needs to stay in.

And then Chapter 2 closes off with that Yiga ambush. That’s the inciting incident, so I need the tone at the end to be slightly different. Instead of ending on that cute little thing where eggbot points angrily at Link, (like that part can still EXIST in there BUT) I need it to end on a more serious note.

Referring back to the Hero’s Journey, the Call to Adventure is the parts of each of the Champion’s recruitment. They each have their initial reasons for joining the fight, whether to protect their people, to feel validated for their skill, to get closer to the ones they love etc etc that’s all established in their respective stages.

This Yiga stage, however, serves as the official barrier between Act 1 and Act 2, the threshold between the known world and the unknown world, where the heroes prepare to seek out the obstacle that stands in the way of their goal. It’s important that this threshold establishes a sense of urgency, because that better gets you invested in the stakes, and helps the story's momentum to move forward. IT shows that the journey and adventure that these characters want/need to take is outside the safety of their home/known world.

In the original game, the threshold ends with that cute scene of eggbot and Zelda and Link and the Zelink vibes. That’s not bad, but it’s also not good. The momentum towards the later confrontation in Korok forest needs to feel more important, because this is a major turning point in the story. SO, I am going to add one more scene at the end. It’s just after the ambush, after the fires have died down, and Zelda (and in the back the Champions) discussing the events with the King. I want King Rhoam to a few things. First, I need him to kinda berate the Champions for falling for the Yiga’s “splitting them up trick” and leaving his daughter vulnerable. This 1) establishes doubt within the party, which makes for better uncertainty for the future and later internal conflict. This was supposed to be the dream team but the King is already kinda telling them off. 2) This also still characterizes the King as someone who cares for his daughter’s safety. That care for his daughters safety is layered in the subtext of him saying something like “Your priority must be to protect the only person capable of sealing the Calamity. You were so concerned with victory and glory in battle that you forgot that the fate of this kingdom lies on my daughter’s survival.” and blah blah blah. The King can also congratulate Link for keeping Zelda safe, and this is GREAT because that can add further to Zelda’s slight resentment for him, as he’s getting the approval from the King that she has yet to receive. But like overall the King is like “don’t leave my daughter alone cause she almost got killed if it weren’t for Link wtf.” and then that can also be a further excuse to hurry to korok forest to find the wielder of the sword so that they can better protect “not just the Princess, but the entire world,” something something fancy kingly dialogue.

Also when the Champions leave THIS can also be the time where Zelda gives that Sheikah device thingy to Rhoam and also where he sees eggbot. I know that happens a bit later, but for pacing purposes and for the sake of the story changes that I made, it better serves to place it here. That interaction itself can stay mostly the same as it is in the game.

So now, the threshold ends with a bit more tension. The Champion squad is powerful, but also has flaws in how they were split up by the Yiga, (cough cough I wonder if that serves the themes of the game in some way cough cough) and it’s not just “smooth sailing” into the search for the Master Sword, and the stakes are a bit rocky as we finally enter into the story’s Act 2.

= = = = =

And that’s Part 1 of my rewrite. Not really a lot, cause again this is mainly character set up, and establishing stuff, but personally I think it’s already a bit stronger than how Age of Calamity did it. Stay tuned for Part 2 either tonight or tomorrow, mwahaha.

Predict the future if you can...

#yes that is a allude to Nando v Movies #hwaoc spoilers #Hwaoc: The Kip Cut #honestly not TOO much rewritten for the First Act because the First Act is actually one of the strongest and best written parts of the game #hwaoc #age of calamity #hw age of calamity #hyrule warriors age of calamity

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