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nerdpoe · 1 year

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Like Facing off Against C'Thulu, but it's Really Just your Fears. Part 2

Part one, Part three, Part four, AO3

Danny stared down at his hands, partially hiding behind the stack of paperwork on the detective’s desk, the blanket he’d been given pulled tight around himself to hide the scars.

Orphan had removed the Specter Collar, and Red Hood had escorted him to the waiting police car.

He had been taken away as they spoke with the police, but once he got to the police station and gave his statement he’d just…been left to his own devices.

They said they were waiting for one of their emergency foster parents volunteers to let them know if he had any room for another kid. If they didn’t, he was likely going to be put in the only place that they could force to have room.

The juvenile detention system.

So there Danny sat, trying desperately not to turn invisible and just disappear.

He’d thought he could reason with them.

Mom and Dad hadn’t always been like that, they’d just kind of lost it after catching Phantom.

It really was his fault, honestly. He’d have to find and apologize to Nightwing later for that. If he had been able to prevent all of himself from reverting to human when they’d cut him open, then they wouldn’t have made that mistake and gone after a real person.

But it had been so hard to stay awake during…well. During that.

Some of his internal organs had started flickering to their human default instead of the ghost one, and it had triggered something in his parents.

They hadn’t been the same since.

If he’d just been able to hold on instead of checking out like a coward, they wouldn’t have seen red blood coming from Phantom, they wouldn’t have had a reason to kidnap Nightwing.

If he had been better at handling his own mess he wouldn’t have freaked out in science class and they wouldn’t have had to move in the first place.

If he’d just been a little-

“Hey there.”

Danny looked up cautiously, but it wasn’t a detective.

It was a man in a suit, looking frazzled, with a CPS worker tailing after him.

The man held out his hand.

“I’m Bruce Wayne, and if you’re willing, I would like to foster you.”

~~~~~~

Daniel stared at Bruce, distrust clear in his eyes.

And for a half a second, he was staring down at another black haired, blue eyed kid. One who had just stolen his tires and hit him with a crowbar.

Then the second was over, and it was Daniel again.

Bruce held back the wry smile, instead wriggling his fingers a little.

Daniel begrudgingly reached out from his blanket and shook Bruce’s hand in a quick motion.

Not quick enough.

That scar managed to peek through, mocking him.

Bruce carefully kept his face clear of any rage directed at the Drs Fenton.

“Are you willing to let me look after you for a bit?” He asked instead, hooking his thumb in his pocket.

“...I have a godfather.”

“Who is under investigation for tax fraud as well as…other things. Things kids shouldn’t be concerned about. You don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

That had been another thing Tim had picked up on, the increase of injuries every time Daniel was with Masters.

No, the kid deserved a good home. Not whatever that man had been doing, isolated in the woods.

Said kid was still glaring at him.

“Is this a publicity stunt?”

“No, not at all. I genuinely just want to help you get back on your feet.”

Daniel’s head cocked slightly to the side. Just like it had done when he’d finished treating Dick.

Super hearing?

Possibly, although he wouldn’t pursue it.

There was a high probability that any superpowers were the result of Daniel’s parents and their experiments; forcing someone to relive trauma like that wouldn’t do anyone any good.

If Daniel wanted to come forward at some point with that information, then he would do it in his own time.

Unless some of his powers proved to be truly destructive, Bruce saw no need to push.

Regardless, he wasn’t lying, and his heart rate would prove it.

Finally, Daniel nodded and slowly stood up.

“I want a lock on my door.”

“Done.”

“I want to be able to leave any time I want.”

“I can arrange a list of other fosters if you want to leave, but I can’t condone running off unprepared in Gotham.”

“...You don’t limit my food intake.”

Bruce had to fight very, very hard not to make a fist.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Do you want a small snackbar in your room?”

Daniel nodded, his shoulders slowly lowering as he started to trust Bruce at least a little.

“And you can’t stop me from talking to my friends.”

Bruce was going to go after the Fentons personally if they ever broke out of Arkham.

“I can get you a phone on the way to the house, all yours.”

“...Okay. Alright. Let’s uh…go. I guess.”

The response wasn’t very enthusiastic, but to be fair Bruce was finding it hard to find a reason that Daniel would be happy in the current circumstances.

Ms. Villareal, the Social Worker at his side, moved forward to walk Daniel through what to expect and who to call if Bruce turned out to be one of the bad guys.

Gordon pulled Bruce to the side and in the hallway, where a paramedic was waiting.

“How bad is it?” Bruce asked quietly.

Gordon and the paramedic exchanged looks.

The paramedic opened his mouth, but Bruce held out his hand and turned around to pick up a spare notebook and pencil off of a desk.

‘He has super hearing. Write here.’

Gordon pursed his lips but acquiesced.

‘Alex says his vitals are all bad,’ the Commissioner wrote, slight anger bleeding through, ‘Heart rate too slow. Breathing too slow. Temp too low. Kid needed a doctor yesterday.’

Bruce closed his eyes.

Opened them.

Took a deep breath.

“If Daniel agrees to a medical checkup, then we’ll do it. Right now his comfort comes first.”

He made sure to say it out loud, made sure that Daniel would hear him.

He had a sinking suspicion that his parent’s hadn’t particularly cared whether or not Daniel knew he was about to have a medical procedure performed, and he wasn’t going to make the same mistake.

There was a long road to recovery ahead, but Bruce would make sure to ease it out as much as he could for his new son.

~~~~~~

Duke finished installing the new state-of-the-art locks on the door.

They’d received the text from Bruce of Daniel’s demands, and after taking a breather at the realization that the new kid thought they needed to be made in the first place, they had set to work doing what they could to make the kid comfortable.

Alfred had taken the most insult at the ‘limitation of food’ thing, and had started a veritable feast in response.

As if Alfred would ever let a child go hungry on his watch.

Jason hefted a small refrigerator into the room, shoving it unceremoniously in the corner. He was still livid about being forced to let those people live.

Duke…kind of agreed.

Dick had just finished his surgery when Bruce had finally left to go pick up Daniel.

He hadn’t woken up.

They’d known that, realistically, he wouldn’t wake up from surgery like that immediately; but it had still been disappointing.

Dr. Thompkins had told them that it was likely he wouldn't wake up for a few days; his body needed the rest and his mind needed the time to come to terms with the massive shock.

Duke hadn’t woken up until Steph had come in and gently shaken him awake.

Dick had been severely injured, she said.

He wouldn’t be able to pick up the mantle for an unknown amount of time, she said.

Dick was in surgery, she whispered.

It was bad, he understood.

Duke had been expecting a lot of things.

A botched jump resulting in a fall, a gunshot wound, a beating, the list went on.

He had not been expecting a literal vivisection.

“The fuck kind of monsters are this kids parents?” He muttered, cradling his head in his hands.

No one called him out on his language.

No one disagreed with him.

Jason just focused his efforts on stocking the minifridge with soda and water, his eyes still a glowing, sickly green.

Duke took a moment to fortify himself, and went to help Stephanie convert the extra dresser they’d dragged in into a snack bar.

Coffee maker, electric kettle, basket of wrapped goodies and treats, the usual.

Then Duke reached into the magic snack box and pulled out a small single burner hot plate.

…Okay, some not so usual stuff as well. That was cool.

He wasn’t jealous.

He wasn’t.

He set the hot plate up, unplugged, at the corner of the dresser; then one of the many five-packs of mac and cheese next to it.

It was best to be clear what the hot plate was for.

No one spoke.

No one wanted to.

To speak would be to remember their oldest brother tucked away in the cave, healing and injured and very likely traumatized.

Tim walked past him, drill in hand, with some speakers.

“Uh…I don’t think he asked for those? What if he thinks they’re listening devices?” Duke asked, not wanting to traumatize their new little brother any worse that he already was.

Which, like, given what little he knew would be almost impossible.

Kid’s parents were uh…perfect for Arkham.

“Bruce says the kid’s got super hearing,” Tim’s exhausted voice carried through the room, the teen himself balancing precariously on a night stand, “Speakers for white noise, so he can sleep. One of us has to.”

Duke winced, deliberately not imagining how the kid had gotten those powers with parents like that.

“Oh, okay. That’s. That’s a thing, then. Alright.” Duke nodded to himself, resolutely closing the Fruit Roll Up drawer. “We can work with that.”

He had no idea how they would work with that.

Super hearing meant no talking about their other jobs in the mansion. Where they lived. And had a base for said work underground.

It was fine. It would be fine.

They’d….find a workaround. Somehow.

~~~~~~

Cass lingered underneath New Brother’s window, setting up the garden decorations in a way that would allow him to break free.

She understood.

The option was what mattered, that it was there at all.

So she worked to make sure that if New Brother wanted to get away, he could.

The lattice was subtly added and reinforced. It was painfully new, such a security risk would never be allowed anywhere else on the mansion, but she didn’t mind.

She didn’t think he would mind either.

A sturdy decorative column that Jason had helped her move earlier was strategically placed near enough for a jump off from the lattice.

From there, it was just a puzzle game.

How to make a stairway from the window to the garden without making it too obvious to New Brother?

Simple.

It just had to not be too obvious.

She knew growing up like he and she did meant there would be no hiding it.

The mind recognized patterns, followed them, learned from them, and categorized them as a threat or not a threat as needed, a tool to be used or a thing to be ignored.

He would definitely notice.

She just had to make it so she wasn’t calling him stupid.

It had turned into a project without meaning to.

A small circle of decorations, each increasingly shorter than the last, formed a sort of spiral.

It was pretty.

So she added a bench.

New Brother would probably think it was pretty too. Maybe he would like to sit and relax in it.

She wanted to sit and relax in it, too.

Maybe he would want to sit together, someday.

~~~~~~

Danny nervously toyed with the new phone in his hands, making himself as small as possible in the back seat as he stared at Mr. Wayne.

The phone was the newest in Wayne Enterprises Technology, and the man had even bought Danny a shirt and hoodie for him to slip on under the blanket.

And Danny was thankful for that, he was; that scar was something he would gladly never look at again, thanks.

But his new Foster parent was a little…too good to be true.

Mr. Wayne had given no indications that he was not to be trusted.

He had flat out told the mustache detective, whatever his name had been, that Danny’s comfort came first. Additional medical testing came after.

Mr. Wayne’s heartbeat never wavered; the entire time he’d been with Danny he hadn’t lied.

He was, for all intents and purposes, trustworthy.

But.

Mom and Dad had been trustworthy people.

They’d been a little off the deep end, but the compassion they showed towards Danny and Jazz meant that they cared.

That they wouldn’t hurt people.

But they had.

Because of his fuck up.

“Hey, kiddo,” Mr. Wayne started from the drivers seat, pretending not to notice Danny’s flinch, “You need to call your sister? She was in your file. She may want to know you’re safe now.”

Danny couldn’t stop the tiny laugh that jumped out of him.

“There it is.”

Mr. Wayne’s heart had sped up at ‘she was in your file’.

Mr. Wayne’s confused eyes met his through the rearview.

“There…what is?” The man asked, immediately focusing on traffic again.

“The lie.” Danny was too tired to beat around the bush. The way there had been a pause and absolutely no talk leading up to the ‘his comfort comes before blah blah blah’ had been way too unnatural. Somehow, this man knew he had super hearing.

Mr. Wayne pursed his lips, not answering.

“I’m not gonna be your weapon,” Danny hissed, pretending his voice wasn’t starting to shake, “and if you try to force that you’ll get to experience first hand what it’s like to get punched by someone who can chuck a bus.”

Blue met blue in the rearview mirror, and Mr. Wayne pulled over.

He turned around in his seat, facing the teen in the back of the car.

Danny tried to act like his breath wasn’t picking up.

That his hands weren’t shaking.

That he wasn’t terrified of having nowhere to go, no one to turn to.

Vlad would try to make him a weapon, and Jazz would try to stop him, and he couldn’t risk her like that so if this man turned out to be just as bad he’d have to go on the run and-

Mr. Wayne took a deep breath, steadying himself.

Then Danny found himself at the end of a very serious stare.

“I know you have powers, yes. I noticed them through the feed on my son's mask, when you saved him.”

Danny froze.

What?

Wait.

What?

Mask?

Nightwing?

Son?

“Batman?”

“There’s no point lying to you. Super hearing, super strength, who knows what else; you’d find out eventually. It’s best you find out now. No, you are not going to be a weapon. I intend to keep you far, far away from being a vigilante.”

Danny couldn’t speak.

This was Batman?

The Batman?

Mr. Wayne’s face cracked a soft smile.

“I would like to adopt you, not just foster. But if you don’t want to, we won’t. I just want you to have a good life, kid.”

“Why…why would you tell me? Trust me? Why would you do something so stupid?” Danny wheezed, wide eyed and shocked out of any rational thought. Like, maybe, not calling the man who could take on literally twenty men and walk away ‘stupid’.

But sue him; he’d been a vigilante too, once, and intimately knew the importance of secret identities.

This couldn’t…Batman couldn’t…why?

“You didn’t have to help, but you did. Then you risked yourself to keep him safe. You did it with no expectation of reward. You’re a good person,” Mr. Wayne shrugged, turning back to the road and pulling into it, “I’ve decided to trust you. It’s okay if you don’t trust me.”

“But that’s…but it was my fault.”

The car jerked a little, before Mr. Wayne corrected it.

“And we will address that falsehood later, when you’re ready to. Right now, you should call Jazz; she’s spent every day of her first semester apartment hunting for the two of you.”

Danny winced, not wanting to ask what kind of access Mr. Wayne had to know that.

Then he looked down at the phone.

Unlocked it.

Took a deep breath.

And dialed out.

The phone was answered halfway through the first ring.

“Hello? I’m sorry, but whoever this is can you call back? I just got word of a family emergency and I-”

“Hey, Jazz.”

~~~~~~

Bruce pulled into the drive, internally screaming.

Everything he had was focused on forcing his heartbeat to remain steady.

There really had been no other way.

He knew it, but to just…out himself like that. Out his family like that.

But logically, there had been no other way.

Daniel had super hearing. He didn’t know if it was better than or worse than Superman’s, but it was bound to pick up on him or the kids talking. He may even have been able to listen in to the Cave.

And punched by someone who could, as Daniel put it, chuck a bus?

He actually really needed to sit the boy down and ask what else he could do.

He could have Black Canary on standby, in case asking actually did bring up traumatic memories, because the whole ‘but it’s my fault’ thing was absolutely a trauma response.

But he needed to know.

If nothing else but to make sure he knew who to point him towards if he needed training with his powers.

Also for potential property damage, so Tim could plan the contingency around if Daniel slipped up in public.

This also cemented in his mind that Daniel could not become a vigilante. Absolutely not.

Powers like that, mixed with Fear Toxin? Joker Venom?

No.

His kid was staying safe and sound in a civilian bubble.

Logically, he knew he should have just called Clark the second the phrase ‘chuck a bus’ had left the kids mouth, but.

He glanced in the backseat as he got out of the car.

The subject of his inner turmoil was gawping at Wayne Manor, eyes wide and full of wonder.

For the first time since he’d seen him, Daniel looked like a kid.

And if Bruce was being entirely honest with himself, he was already attached.

Had been when he’d seen the look on Daniel’s face after being told to run, how he had stubbornly refused to abandon someone in need.

Adoptivitus indeed.

“Welcome home,” he said, motioning towards the mansion with a grin that only grew bigger when Daniel actually smiled, “Let’s get you settled in.”

~~~~~~

Jason kept his distance, watching Bruce guide the new kid in from the shadows.

His emotions were still too unstable, and his eyes showed it in a blindingly obvious fashion.

The kid came in through the foyer, all slack-jawed and bright-eyed. Alfred introduced himself, and from there the rest of his siblings stepped in to do the same.

Damian had even stuck around to keep watching the new kid, eyes suspicious as he observed the newcomer for any tricks.

They all knew Bruce had no intention of making Daniel Robin, so he wasn’t even trying to murder the little meta. Demon Brat was being a goddamn shining example of courtesy by his own standards.

Steph had very obviously been holding herself back from going in for a hug, her grip on the stair rails had her knuckles white from the strain.

Duke had offered to give Daniel a tour when he was ready, but only when he was ready. Jason couldn’t help but notice he was looking everywhere but the new kid.

That was interesting.

He wasn’t squinting, either. He just looked a little green around the gills.

Huh.

Jason cataloged that for later.

Cass had kept a respectful distance, but anyone who knew her could tell she was practically vibrating with excitement.

She’d also signed to New Kid that if he ever wanted to escape, she would help him if he needed it.

The kid’s shoulders relaxed, just a little, once Steph translated it for him.

Jason got it.

He did.

Being dragged out of a shitty situation into an unknown one wasn’t a very fun time, and it helped to have an out.

Tim greeted the kid with a tablet and an offer to stay in the same general room as him if he wanted company but didn’t want to talk. Basically, Replacement was telling New Kid that they could pretend to acknowledge each other and not put in any effort.

Even though that basic companionship probably was what the New Kid needed.

Jason still felt like judging Timblerina.

Jason had no intention of introducing himself, but when he shifted to leave the kid’s head snapped around and two glowing blue eyes locked with his glowing green ones.

He froze.

Right. Meta. Super hearing.

“Jason. I don’t live here. Welcome. Bye.” He didn’t bother to raise his voice, New Kid could hear him just fine.

The kid’s eyes faded back to regular blue, just as Jason saw the green finally recede from his vision.

Something clicked in place.

…

Something clicked in place?

Jason frowned, feeling his expression settle somewhere on the spectrum of ‘confused’ but not quite reaching ‘what the fuck’.

Bruce nodded in approval.

When the fuck had Jason asked for approval?

Why was he being given it?

“Everyone, this is Daniel. He’s going to be staying with us for the foreseeable future,” B’s face did that thing where it looked like he was constipated, then smoothed out, “He knows.”

Jason’s brain paused and proceeded to reboot itself.

“He what?”

“He knows.”

“Tt,” Demon Brat scoffed, looking at all of them impetuously, “Obviously he had to be told. A meta with super hearing? Better to divulge it and observe the reaction, than to have him find out by accident and run away.”

The Foyer was awkwardly quiet, New Kid shifting from foot to foot.

“Well, if you know already; d’ya wanna see Dick?” Duke offered, shrugging.

“Who?”

New Kid’s voice was soft, like he was afraid of making noise. Jason also understood that; he’d done the same shit at first. Duke had as well.

It was a ‘going from the streets or rough living situation to being richer than god’ thing.

Daniel’s, though?

He spoke softly as he tried to fold in on himself, make himself as small as possible. Everything about him screamed not to notice him.

There was really only one reason kids did that.

“Nightwing, kid.” Jason offered over his shoulder, taking the encroaching green as his sign to leave.

He needed to get out and punch something, and he knew of a trafficking ring that had just been begging him to teach them a lesson.

And no weird little meta kid to stop him from putting them all down.

@skulld3mort-1fan @zelabee @waspsarebetterthanbeesanyways @ailithnight @randomkiddoscrewingaround @apointlessbox @pyramaniac @emergentpanda-blog @pastalavistamf @gin2212 @beacedocrime @spectralstardustandphantomnights @introvert-even-on-the-internet @candeartist422 @icarusinstatic @overtherose @toomanyfandoms11 @redhoneysugarorange @vythika96 @blueflipflops @undead-essence

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calamari-minecraft-corner · 27 days

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Hello my name is Cala and I am here to be unhinged about The Milk Carton by Madilyn Mei and how it fits my dnd con au also known as Redemption’s Overture, specifically with Dnd!Cala.

The lyrics remind me a lot about the adventure I have planned for her and I’m here to explain most of them.

“I think I really miss my bed

Oh when, oh when will the nightmare end?

I had it good, I had it good

And yet I left and can't retrace my steps”

This is after Cala breaks out Dream and everything goes terribly wrong for her- and she reminisces on how things were before she did that and even before she went on this adventure to explore the world. As well as that her just missing when she was less aware of how truly cruel the world was and no matter what it feels like she can’t go back to that innocence.

“You're gonna be eaten by a coyote

Run, little one, though the pack may follow

Two quite thin, their brother fatter

He can still win, just gotta be faster”

The three coyotes remind me of the Three Kings that try to use her! The two thin ones remind me of Wilbur and Quackity since they both tried to nab her but they just miss— and the fatter one is in reference to King Schlatt who actually does has a chance of getting her since he can manipulate her easier and catching her. And she knows that so that’s why she feels like she’s running since throughout the adventure the three are trying to pursue her and Dream

“Run for the yard, they've barred up the gutter

That was our route, better find another”

In reference to the kings trying to capture them by trapping them with various means- and there’s a lot throughout the AU which is straight up traps to more subtle methods

“Was that a rabbit? Really not like the one

I'vе seen on a cereal box”

This one is a silly one but this is her seeing Techno throughout her travels and she heard about the great knight, but he’s now a lot different who despises the monarchy and wishes to dismantle it- and it reminds her of the books she’s read that he was a great and noble knight in Withering Hope’s Kingdom and the old library of L’Manberg and Manberg, and read ones in Las Nevadas where they call him a monster and an animal so it’s surprising to see him neither of those things.

“And the birds don't talk

Likе the ones on screen”

This is about the crows that follows Cala and her party throughout their adventure! After she sets Dream out there’s a murder that usually follows or flies by them, and she always thinks that they can talk like she read in her old books but they don’t.

“Have they really domesticated me?”

This is the major question that goes on in Cala’s head throughout the AU. In the beginning Cala blindly believes and is very loyal to Eret’s kingdom and by default other kingdoms too since she believes that she has to. So at the start of the au she does her best to be cordial and kind to the kings- even if they try to hurt her. And this question comes up often by Dream, Techno, even King Wilbur when in reference to who is she really loyal to: Her Queen, her Oath, or Dream? So she feels like she’s a domesticated animal for everyone and has a crisis about it.

“Cotton tail, gonna end up in jail

Wrong place, wrong time

Bad tune but it rhymed

And lined up perfectly to blame

The one who is far too tame”

This one is a given. It’s her thinking back to when she broke out Dream and how she snuck into the prison to do it and she sees Dream who she thinks is just a tortured man and doesn’t think that he’s at all dangerous.

“And he say

"Out, let me in, let me in, let me out

Stop tellin' me all about your problems

I been to hell, still in, get me out

Whatever they are, I don't know how to solve 'em"”

Dream doesn’t really say it, but he does give Cala that look constantly when he’s first chained and does see that innocent halfling who’s more worried about him and wondering what she should eat for dinner tonight. He’s confused by her and tired and really doesn’t care about her problems. And him saying he doesn’t care stays still as they begin their adventure but over time he does care, in his own way.

“Say, is that the kid from the milk carton?”

Cala trying to figure out who Dream actually is since she didn’t realize it was actually him at the time.

“Can I do anything when I'm also missing?”

Cala thinking about if she can help Dream fully while wondering if she can help herself with her own problems- and even though her problems are different than his they’re both in the same boat now.

“Something tells me kid

Never learned to swim

But can I do anything when I'm also drowning?”

Cala thinks that Dream really never learned how to actually solve his problems and only provided temporary solutions or extreme solutions that involved him hurting himself or others, and she wants to help him learn that there’s other ways. But she also does that in a way by being more impulsive with her choices- and again they’re both stuck in the same boat with the same problem and they’re both dealing with it in different ways.

“Think I forgot a couple things

My brain is still at home

Home's far away”

Cala missing home or what she remembers of home before she realized how really corrupt the entire land is, but she misses that ignorance.

“I really thought that life was one big race

But now I know it's one big chase”

Cala was always taught by her dad that life was one big race and that she needs to be on the top no matter what. And she kept some of that advice which is why she is dedicated to be a bard and one of the best storytellers in the land. But now she realizes that the world isn’t like that and it’s a “fish eat bigger fish” world and it honestly scares her since she sees Dream, a mighty sorcerer who brought fear on the land reduced to a weak mess who doesn’t remember half of his spells. And it’s a matter of time before the chase catches up to her.

“You can still win, just gotta be faster

You can, you can, you can, you can win”

a mantra she tells herself- and when she doesn’t tell herself that Spooky does, as well as the rest of the party.

“You're gonna be eaten by a coyote

Run little one

Though the pack may follow

Two quite thin, their brother fatter

You can still win, just gotta be”

Her perception changes into thinking that instead of King Schlatt and the other kings winning that she Can be smarter and more cunning, as well as being one step ahead of them.

“Oh, the air is thick

Kinda makes me sick

Can I give CPR when I'm suffocating?”

The more her and her party runs the more problems they’re creating and making a crack throughout the whole kingdoms, showing how much all of them have been hiding and although it makes her uncomfortable and she wants to help everyone she has to focus on herself even if it chokes her since the Las Nevadas Kingdom portrayed her entire party as an enemy- she doesn’t like what she’s doing but she knows it needs to be done.

Have they really domesticated me? (You can still win, just gotta be… faster!)

That prominent question being the last line in the song reminds me of Cala realizing that no, they haven’t domesticated her and she’s not loyal to anyone for the most part. She’s uncovering the flaws of the system as well as how messed up they all are for hiding certain things from the public. And she knows she can be smarter she just needs to run and continue the chase so they can make more mistakes and so the party can reveal the true nature.

Anyways yeah I’m normal about this song completely normal thank you for coming to my Ted talk

#dsmp #dreamsmp #dnd con au #dream smp #self insert #dsmp au #dreamsmp au #dsmp oc #dreamsmp oc

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whoneedsapublisher · 9 months

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The First Remembered

Third fic for @nasuversepromptweeks's Nasuverse Femslash Week, with the prompt today being "first love/colourful". Hakuno x Tamamo-no-Mae. Absolutely adore Tamamo, incidentally. I wasn't sold on her from playing FGO but actually playing EXTRA made me love her dearly.

Words: ~700

Summary: Having amnesia is strange. Just because you can't remember events doesn't mean you can't find things familiar. Does that mean that finding them unfamiliar makes them new?

Also on Ao3

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

Hakuno doesn’t remember if she’s ever had a first love. Not that that’s surprising, considering she remembers next to nothing, but part of her worries about it. Does the fact that she can’t remember mean that she never had one? Is that the sort of thing you’d never forget, like how she still remembers her name, and still remembers so many things she must have learned over the course of her life. After all, she still understands what it means when she feels sick, and remembers what it feels like to throw up, even if she can’t remember ever throwing up before. Shouldn’t love be the same way? If she’s been in love before, shouldn’t she remember how it feels?

For a while, she’s confused the feeling for… appreciation. Gratitude. Needy dependence, even. Tamamo is the only reason she’s alive, after all. And even beyond that, Tamamo is her emotional support. If Tamamo had only been a Servant, a weapon, Hakuno would have fallen into despair already, given up and stayed in her room until she was killed by default. Tamamo’s comfort and cheerful presence is all that keeps her going.

She had thought that her feelings were all wrapped up in that. Of course she felt strongly about Caster, she would have said- Caster saved her, and still was saving her. But over time, she started to realise it was more than that. Rin had helped her too, after all. She owed Rin her life too, although maybe that relationship was a little closer to equal in what they owed each other.

But she didn’t feel the same way about Rin that she felt about Tamamo.

One day, unusually, Hakuno wakes up before Tamamo, when they’re still in their room. Normally, Hakuno woke up in the classroom, the week having ticked over and the simulation having jerkily reset her to what must be her default position, like it did every other week. This time, though, she wakes up in whatever maintenance time happens between the end of the selection and the start of the next week. Tamamo is dozing on the little shrine of desks she’d made for herself, and Hakuno finds herself silently watching, hypnotised by the slow rise and fall of Tamamo’s body with each breath she took, and the little twitches of her tail as it slowly waved around in her sleep.

Hakuno has always known that her Servant is beautiful. It was one of the first things she’d noticed about her, obviously. Right after how eccentric she was. But she finds herself dwelling on it as she watches her slumber in the dark classroom. Tamamo is beautiful. Unbelievably so. It’s almost uncanny.

Hakuno isn’t sure how long she’s been watching when Tamamo starts to stir. Her Servant sits ups, stretching, and then starts when she opens her eyes to see Hakuno.

“Oh! Master, you’re awake early. What’s wrong? Did you have trouble sleeping? Ahh, if you just hold something soft and fluffy like my tail, that will help for sure! Feel free to embrace me, Master!”

It’s more of Tamamo’s normal teasing, but Hakuno realises in that moment how she feels. The different between the room with Tamamo sleeping, and her coming back awake is stark. The room is just as dark as it was before, but it feels like it’s brightened up immensely in those few moments. Hakuno smiles at Tamamo, and Tamamo cocks her head curiously.

“Is everything okay, Master?”

Hakuno nods.

“Oh, are you still half asleep? Feel free to get some more rest, Master. The next day will start before you know it.”

Hakuno nods again. She isn’t really tired, but right now, she’s not sure she can handle a conversation with Tamamo. So she closes her eyes and lays back down, pretending to sleep as her thoughts race.

Whatever she’s feeling, it’s not just appreciation or gratitude. It’s something more powerful. Frighteningly so.

The word doesn’t come to her for a while. Not until Tamamo uses it first. But looking back, it’s in that moment that Hakuno first realized it.

Her first love.

#fate #nasufemslashweek #fate/extra #tamamo no mae x hakuno

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kandyrezi · 3 years

Note

Offers you some pocket lint and also a bag of chocolate buttons and an actual button or two

Can I get some uhhhhhh Yandere Ziki stuff?

—esurient;

pairing: yandere!ziki x reader

warnings: dismemberment, amputation, blood & gore

(a/n: I have no idea what on earth I’m supposed to do with those assortment of items you just electronically gifted me, but thank you anyway -

- yeah, not me thinking to myself upon seeing this ask ‘who tf is ziki?’ ……. OH, THE MOUTH WITCH. moment of enlightenment after that. (there are some bonus headcanons as well at the bottom of this fic! <3))

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

SHE DIPS HER FINGERS into the crimson stain, placing the blood-stained digits on her tongue, identifying the one it belongs to. Unmistakable, no doubt. Her lover's blood isn't as tasty as some of the others' she's consumed – but it's inconsequential. The taste bears no meaning in comparison to the adoration she feels for the one who brightened up her world like no one else ever has.

(she remembers the look in your eyes – lost and confused – the very look you gazed at her with the first time when she spotted you.)

The blood splatters leave her darling's scent lingering, yet they themselves are nowhere to be found – most likely having somehow wandered off to somewhere. You must have hurt yourself, as she doesn't remember you bleeding when she'd left you on your lonesome.

(she fell in love with you the day she'd met you.)

It's too bad no one in this world will come to your aid, not like she did when she first met you. The other witches are all selfish and only acting in their own self-interest.

(not wanting to lose someone so precious and wanting to consummate your love, she took you back to her little place of residence hidden away in the witch world.)

Finding you is laughably easy when you didn't even make it very far in the first place; you're awfully noisy and the tongues on her body have excellent taste receptors. One of the mouths on her braided hair maims you in the thigh, hardly a challenge at all as you're still drowsy from your escape— rather, your impolite, unannounced departure. As you look up at your pursuer hovering on her broom with your one still-intact eye, instead of ghostly white, her eyes shine a captivating yellow much like the mysterious sphere resting in the skies.

You must have seen her then for who she really was.

A witch of hunger and rage.

She didn't want to inject you with her venom. Weaker creatures such as yourself were easily susceptible to it and would likely die from it ("cardiac arrest" Ptomain had described it as) as opposed to becoming immobilised.

You are not the human who had the prettiest lilac eyes who escaped from the mansion of a vampire lord. You are not the leopard seal girl with broken fangs she came across beached on an island.

But you're you, and that's all she cares about.

. . .

The source of light provided by a stream of orange glow from the skies reflected off of the leaves from the trees yet the bright hues do nothing in ways of giving comfort. It could be pitch black and your heart would threaten to beat out of your chest from terror in equal measure.

You're partially blind due to your missing left eye and your surroundings are alien to you. Never would you have willingly entered a maze of unknown woods, yet at this moment you're desperate. You wish some ghastly beast would emerge from from the underground to devour you right then and there to simply end it so you wouldn't have to endure it – anything at all to avoid the deadly clutches of Ziki.

The soles of your feet no doubt have developed callouses and your toes burn from how long you've been running while avoiding getting your ankle stuck in vines or treading on one of the many-eyed endemic snakes. You momentarily lean your weight onto a (hopefully) harmless tree trunk with your dismembered, two-fingered hand.

The wind blows, howling right next to your ear, causing a tremor of shivers to trail down your spine. You feel like you're being taunted, watched with a calculating gaze – you push yourself upright and are ready to sprint (to your death if you have to), but it only takes you less than a second—

The jolt of sharp pain in your thigh forces you to freeze up like an icicle as the painful sensation rapidly spreads through your body. You fall into the dirt with no way to brace yourself with painful collision. something (but you know it's in fact, a someone) has bitten you in the leg and the juncture above your ankle is maimed next.

Ziki might not be hunting you for the purpose of killing you (—or so she's claimed) yet obviously natural predator-prey instincts kick in when the one being hunted down isn't so keen on allowing the one doing the hunting to sink their sharp, sawtooth-like tusk into your thigh so she can't let you get away. Especially now when one of her twin-tail mouths latch on to and break through muscle and tissue, the stream of red running down your leg creating another warm shade of color to paint the woods with. You're too weak to struggle much due to injuries you've sustained back at the witch's residence and on the run, and the fight ends before it can even begin.

You slip in and out of consciousness many times – the words shifts and moves around you, but you aren't sure where you ended up, not until after you wake up again.

The braided witch is saying something but you can't make out all the words.

"Neither your eye... your fingers... enough."

Were you really taken back...?

"It seems... you still don't... the conjoin of our love, so..."

What is this lunatic saying?!

"...Zi-Ziki..."

Your head barely becomes clearer yet it still hurts, you realize it when you feel the tight hold of belts strapping you to a familiar chair by your ankles and shoulders. It must be her kitchen. Where she keeps her jars and other glass containers full of substances you don't want to know about. The herbs and flowers hanging from the walls can't block out the stench you feel oozing from them. You can't really see her, but a smile on her face was normally her default expression, so it's far from a stretch to assume so.

"But I'm not complaining," Ziki keeps on talking, "Not when the meat from your flesh is so... tender. I've been keeping you well-fed and nourished, you can thank Ptomain for giving me some tips. Not sure how she knows so much about the health of your kind, but..."

She leans forward to hold your hand with farce tenderness, her other fingers stroking the outlines of the veins on your wrist below.

"...it's good that you're here now! After this, you'll tell me how much you feel the same way that I do for you~! Don't worry, I won't let you die. A witch's promise."

All the mouths on her body open to showcase their sharp teeth right in front of you. you vaguely register her biting your arm off from the elbow with the mouth on her face while the rest hold your body still to keep you from struggling. It's not a clean bite – she twists and yanks as your bones crack and shatter while tissues come apart under her immense strength. It all happens in less than a few seconds yet your nerves are on fire and you can't remember screaming or crying or pleading – nothing – as your body forces itself into unconsciousness from shock and agony.

You pray you won't wake up again after this time.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

• Ziki has a desire to consume a part of her lover so they're with her always - probably a body part like fingers, an entire limb, earlobe, or an eye (rarely) - possibly keeps some in a jar as well. She "falls in love" easily but is unable to "keep them"for long because she becomes too overzealous in her treatment of them.

• She hates it when her darling runs away from her. It's enough to make her lose her composure and almost kill them when she finds them again - it's mainly a stroke of luck when she doesn't violently lash out at the moment of seeing them.

• Despite how much of a whacko she is, she is actually strategic when it comes to anatomy and knows best places to injure to keep a darling immobile or crippled.

• Ziki doesn't have any healing abilities like some of the other witches. If her darling were a human, they would most likely end up dying from the injuries which she inflicted.

• She is kept under careful watch of the Great Witch to make sure she doesn't go overboard but will sometimes turn a blind eye if it's some stray, weak human (since they don't usually survive under the harsh conditions of PBW anyway).

• While she will otherwise go for anyone, she has a bit of a fetish for humans in particular because she likes how frail and docile they are.

• Feels lonely since the death of her familiar (not caused by her). This might correlate with her desire to keep a plaything to fill in that void (...or it might not).

• The mouths on her body can open and eat things, but can speak with only the one on her face.

• Ziki is friends with Ptomain and Kagimori. Since they can do types of witchcraft that fundamentally differ from one another, Ptomain has given her tips on medical care and health without the need for magic usage. Kagimori sometimes complains about the mess from blood stains on the hardwood floors of Ziki's cottage when she goes in for a visit.

• Her eyes change color depending on her mood; her pupils are pure white when she's feeling more docile, but they turn yellow when her emotions become intense and she feels them strongly.

• Aside from her appetite for flesh, she also likes mandarin oranges.

- - -

(a/n: ziki is literally a blank slate with just a visual appearance, so I got a little creative with her in ways you normally can't with established characters. I wrote the headcanons while i was trying to figure out her personality for just myself initially, but then decided to share them anyway.)

#yandere x reader #funamusea #mogeko #okegom #yandere #deep-sea prisoner #dsp #female yandere #ziki (mogeko)#yanderecore #ficlets

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fantasy-anatomy-analyst · 3 years

Text

(image description: eight sketchbook drawings of characters holding a variety of pride flags, all nude and posed in ways that match some old fine art pieces. The nudity has been censored with cute digital flower stickers. end description.)

Characters:

Dalmar, intersex man. Kouto, nonbinary. Chacha, agender. Parva, nonbinary. Xulic and Kidron, genderqueer. Obeli (or Abuela) Moruga, genderqeer. Olli, demiguy. Sajak, genderqueer.

Genderqueer is kind of my default for "well, biologically and culturally, they already don't have binary sex or gender, so they kinda default to genderqueer." And I know maybe some people will be bothered by that, but it's just part of the worldbuilding I've written around all these non-human and frequently non-mammalian species of people.

The uncensored version is on my Patreon page. I do have one more drawing to add to this series, but since it's four child characters I will not need to worry about adding any censors and keeping the original image only on my patreon, as they will simply be wearing their pride flags as whole outfits.

The previous part of this, my binary trans characters, can be found over here.

detailed character descriptions and explanations of the pose references under the cut

Dalmar Ubora, a black intersex elf man with short black hair. He is holding his arms up as he holds the intersex flag, mimicking the pose of Virgin Mary from Titian's painting "The Assumption of the Virgin". The shading was washed out by the photo, but his belly is still clearly round from pregnancy. Dalmar is an interesting case, in that he was assigned male at birth based on his outward appearance, continues to identify as male throughout his life, but finds during puberty that what was believed to be an undeveloped penis was actually just a non functional body part. Instead, what actually developed to full functionality was his uterus. He still identifies as a straight cis man, and has come to terms with his body. He is married to a medically transitioned trans woman, and he could undergo operations to change his body if he wanted to. Instead, he has embraced his body and even birthed some children who were conceived via sperm donations. This is why I wanted a Mary pose for him, and this painting in particular is about Mary being welcomed into heaven as a blessed holy woman. Dalmar may not be a miraculous holy figure, but there is a reverence in the way he has come to love his body and chosen to bear children, including the surrogate birth of his brother's child.

Kouto Hayashi-Loryck, a slender nonbinary elf with black hair tied into a bun. They are holding the nonbinary flag and standing in the pose of a statue known as "Apollo Belvedere", which is so old no one knows the artist's name. One arm raised, one lowered, legs in the relaxed contrapposto pose. Kouto is an artist and an art model. Apollo is a god of the arts, and regarded as a beautiful and sexual figure. Kouto is bisexual and admittedly a very sexual and flirtatious person. They did settle into a happy marriage though (actually they are Dalmar's in-law and the sperm donor for the aforementioned surrogate birth.) Marriage has not stopped Kouto's flirtations, merely limited their targets to a singular person. It felt right to give him this pose, from a pretty well known portrayal of Apollo. Beauty, art, and sex, all defining traits of Apollo and Kouto alike, all present in a pose where the figure seems to be reaching for something above them.

Chacha Faraji, an agender black elf with short hair. They are facing away from the viewer, seated on a stool that is covered by the draped agender flag. No physical traits that could betray their agab are visible. Chacha is sitting in the pose of Reubens' painting "Venus at the Mirror". The arm closest to the viewer ends at the elbow, while they hold a mirror in front of their face with their one whole arm. Their face is seen reflected, smiling, little wrinkles visible by their eyes. I chose this painting in part because it did allow me to obscure Chacha's agab. They were my first nonbinary character, and I never really settled on an agab. But also, I enjoy putting characters who have unconventional bodies into poses associated with Venus or Aphrodite, the goddess of beauty. Chacha is missing half an arm, they are getting older and it shows in the wrinkles on their face. Chacha is also Aromantic and Asexual, the full queer triple A battery. The mirror pose has become an independence of beauty. "Look but don't touch." Chacha is beautiful, and they do not need to be beautiful for anyone but themself.

Parva Turbatus, a white nonbinary elf with shoulder length curly hair that has been shaved down on the far side of their head. They are holding the nonbinary flag, standing in the slightly closed off pose found in Paul Gariot's painting "Pandora's Box". One hand on their chest, one hand held out to hold the flag. They have top surgery scars on their chest and a c-section scar on their navel, though all of these have unfortunately been hidden by the flower censors. I chose a pandora pose for Parva because they have one of the most intense tragic backstories of any of my characters. Like Pandora opening the box, they have suffered through many things but came out the other side with Hope, and healing.

Xulic Vos and Kidron Engedi, a drow and a lizard person. They are sharing the genderqueer flag. Xulic has long ears and white hair in a braid, with a white monkey-like tail barely visible behind their legs. Kidron looks like a leopard gecko, and their tail is acting as a visual block in fron of Xulic's groin. They are standing together in the central pose of Raphael's "School of Athens" fresco. Xulic is pointing one hand up to the sky, while Kidron holds one hand palm down towards the earth. Xulic's chest is visibly flat, however I have rewritten the drow as a eusocial people, who's biology has made most of the common population infertile and visibly near identical above the waist. Xulic's agab is unknown to anyone but them, and perhaps their reptilian lover Kidron. Both drow and lizard folk have biology and cultures that do not really support a gender binary, so genderqueer suits them both quite well. I chose the School of Athens pose because these characters are scientists in fields that overlap, and they often get into deep discussions on the matter. Xulic is a paleontologist while Kidron is a geologist, and they have another friend (my protagonist) who studies archaeology.

Obeli (or Abuela) Moruga, an elderly goblin with sagging skin and axolotl-like frills on the sides of her head. She grins as she holds the gender queer flag, partly draped over the tall stool she is seated on. Her pose matches that of John Collier's "Priestess of Delphi" painting, which depicts a woman hunched over herself on a stool. Old Obeli Moruga, whose title best translates to "grandmother" is a significant figure in her community, both because of her more practical role as a leader and wise woman, but also because she has gained immortality and become an incarnation of Life Itself, after she was given the offer of such power when she nearly died in the goblin revolution. There are many figures that would suit her. Poses from statues of goddesses, like Athena or Gaia. Perhaps turning away from the theme of greek and roman figures I ended up with for my nonbinary group (dalmar is his own thing) and using the famous painting of Liberty on a battlefield. But now in her old age, all those poses of figures in more active poses, tall and imposing, simply didn't feel right. A wise old woman, hunched on a stool in a pose associated with the idea of an oracle, a priestess, a prophetess, felt much more fitting. (goblin culture does have specific pronouns for leadership, and in the common speech they have decided this translates best to the feminine "she/her")

Olli Moruga, also a goblin with axolotl-like frills, standing with the demiguy flag in his hands. He is in the pose of Michaelangelo's statue of Bacchus, god of wine, merriment, and madness. One hand up as if to salute with a cup, body leaning and perhaps a little unstable. Olli is a gay demiguy, stepping away from the naturally ungendered state of his people to embrace masculinity instead. He is extroverted, loves a good party, and has definitely been a little over his depth with alcohol on many occasions. He knows this is a problem. He used to act rebellious because of it, trying to be cool and aloof, but he has since admitted the truth to himself and now openly seeks help. His trans lover, Zaire (seen in a previous post) has become a great support to him. Even though it may seem odd to use the pose of a god of wine for a character that is trying to overcome an alcohol issue, I still feel like the vibe of Bacchus or Dionysus fits Olli well. He is not only a god of wine, but also of pleasure in general, a concept Olli embraces. Wild joy, perhaps to the point of becoming a little feral, abandoning tradition for personal fulfillment. It is unusual for goblins to embrace a binary gender, even partially. Gendered pronouns do not exist in their tongue, only being used in cases where common speech needs to be used to refer to certain significant figures, such as a leader. It is also unusual for a goblin to take a lover outside their species, since most goblins live in fairly isolated places and all mate together seasonally, depositing their eggs in a communal nursery pool. Olli stands out on purpose.

Lastly, Sajak, an amphibious person with some fish-like features such as their finned ears and a barely visible dorsal fin. They are holding the genderqueer flag as they stand in a commanding pose, one foot on a rock, one arm held out as if pointing to something below them. This pose is taken from the central Poseidon statue in the fountain of Trevi. Their head, arms, and torso are covered in dark tattoos in abstract designs, and they also have a few natural dark stripes along their arms and legs. The obvious connection between Sajak and this statue of Poseidon is that Sajak is a fish person and Poseidon is an ocean god. If I could have thought of a more medical figure, I may have made a different choice in the art reference. Sajak is primarily a doctor, a healer. They are fairly well known and they were an important figure on their home island, though they did leave eventually. Even so, there is a certain vibe to Sajak that suits the image of a powerful and unpredictable oceanic god. They are steady, intelligent, and careful, but they can become fierce when their loved ones are under threat, and the intense focus they show in their work as a doctor can be intimidating to see. There is a feeling of hidden power within Sajak, just as there is in the ocean when it seems calm. Fish folk, whether bipedal and amphibious or fully aquatic, also fit under my category of "non-mammalian people who are just kind of genderqueer by default due to their biology not fitting into a binary".

#figure art #figure drawing #nonbinary #intersex #genderqueer #queer ocs #winks ocs #image description #accessible art #my designs #drow #lizard folk #elves #goblins #merfolk

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hopeymchope · 3 years

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Parascientific Escape: The sci-fi “escape room” visual novel-style series nobody talks about

I can’t help thinking that Parascientific Escape would probably have an active fandom somewhere on the Internet if it wasn’t TRAPPED ON THE 3DS ESHOP.

I mean, it’s an escape room-centric visual novel-style sci-fi Japanese game that is clearly inspired by Zero Escape and very anime in its style. There are endearing characters, including optimal waifus/husbandos, plus a gradual buildup of an interesting fictional world full of political intrigue, its own countries, its own companies, and of course... psychic powers. Because you can’t have a trilogy of Japanese visual novel-style games featuring escape room puzzles without mental powers, now can you?

But as I said... they’re trapped as download-only titles for the 3DS. That’s fucking brutal.

Even so, there’s a pretty big 3DS/2DS user base still in existence. It’s not like they’ve never been translated or something, so at least we have the capability to play them. So if you look into them, what are you getting?

A basic overview: Parascientific Escape is a trilogy of anime-style games about solving escape room mysteries and tracking down evildoers via the use of psychic powers (obvious Zero Escape influences). There’s an overarching plot about a mysterious mastermind who believes it’s time for the recently emerged psychics of the world to take their place as the next evolution of humanity and get their own nation (obvious X-Men influences).

They don’t work very well as standalone stories; each story relies on information from the last one, culminating in a game that stars the protagonists of both parts 1 and 2 together as they finally unravel the motivations behind the events of the whole series and face off with the people behind everything. In addition, the escape room puzzles start out pretty easy in the first game build to be pretty frustratingly obtuse by the tail end of the third. And on top of all that, each game taken on its own only contains about 3-4 escape rooms. So when you bundle all three together, that’s when it all works as a single satisfying package.

Don’t worry about burning a lot of cash to play the whole series, however. The three games are $5.00 US each on the 3DS eShop and are usually on sale for $2.50 each these days. I got the entire trilogy for $7.50 US!

So let’s break down the gameplay and setup in a little more detail. Don’t worry; I won’t give any spoilers that go beyond the first five minutes of any game in the series. The twists and turns are part of the fun here.

The first game is Parascientific Escape: Cruise in the Distant Seas. You play as Hitomi Akeneno, a high school girl (because of course she’s a high-schooler) with the dual abilities of mild telekinesis and a type of clairvoyance that lets her peer past barriers or into the insides of objects. She finds herself trapped on a sinking cruise ship where some mastermind keeps systematically locking her into isolated sections while she’s trying desperately to escape.

I really liked how you could look inside of an object with clairvoyance and then use her telekinesis to manipulate the various switches and levers within, gradually pulling some object you need out from within a maze. I also thought it was clever how the solution to a new escape roomight require you to backtrack to a previous escape room to investigate some object or area that wasn’t relevant to that previous room’s original puzzle.

(One of the things I found most fascinating about this one is the ethical debate raised by Hitomi’s friend Chisono regarding how Hitomi got herself involved in all this. Chisono offers a perspective that is extremely unusual to see in most fiction. You can even say it’s pretty cold, but it’s not without having some merit to it. I don’t want to say too much about what I’m talking about, though; it’s better left as a surprise.)

The second title, Parascientific Escape: Gear Detective, almost seems standalone at first. You play as Kyosuke Ayana, a private detective and actual adult (!) who is 22 years old. A young woman shows up at his office and asks to hire him for protection. See, there’s a serial killer on the loose, and she believes she’s the next target.

We are swiftly told that Kyosuke was once in an accident that necessitated the replacement of his left arm and right eye. He volunteered to be a guinea pig for some very special prosthetics that granted him artificial psychic powers. As such, he now has “chronokinesis” — to the power to look back in time. However, he can only look back for five days, and he only has limited ability to move or manipulate the things he sees in the past.

Naturally, Kyosuke’s investigation winds up trapping him within some escape rooms that require use of his unique abilities to solve. Some of the hints at the proper timestamps or exactly where you should be looking when you peer into the past are a little vague, though, which can cause momentary frustration. Because I like to always be making forward progress, I actually preferred Hitomi’s telekinesis/clairvoyance powers from the first game. Still, Hitomi had some pretty basic puzzles in her rooms. I can’t deny that these puzzles took more thought.

Outside of the escape rooms, everything is undeniably a huge improvement. The first game presented strictly linear segments of storytelling between the rooms, but this one is more of an adventure game. You can choose where you go, select from a limited menu of things to do when you get there, and do all of it in any order you like. There’s usually a correct sequence order to progressing the story, but it’s typically pretty clear what the next step is, so it’s not like you’re just flailing about and trying a bunch of locations blindly. Besides, there’s no way to get stuck, so don’t stress it. There are even a lot of actions you can take that have no impact on story progression at all — they’re just there to generate additional dialogue that further develops the characters.

The tradeoff is that you actually get fewer escape rooms overall. The first game had four, but the second only contains three. This is also the first game in the series to introduce multiple endings; you get a number of dialogue choices throughout, and unfortunately, it’s far too easy to trigger the “bad” ending. There are guides online to help you trigger the Gold Star “true” ending, however. Just hit up GameFAQs. You might want to use the guide on your first playthrough, because I can say from experience that it’s annoying to have to replay all the dialogue sections just to make the correct choices. (Luckily, you can skip over any irrelevant sections of each chapter — including the escape room puzzles.)

In spite of my above whining, the second one is probably my single favorite story in the Parascientific trilogy. It’s a lot of fun.

The final game in the trilogy is Parascientific Escape: Crossing at the Farthest Horizon. Mysterious characters who were plotting offscreen for the previous two games are finally given faces, locations that were talked about extensively in both are finally visited, and the two protagonists of the first couple games finally meet and team up. It’s absolutely a culmination of what they set up in the first two.

The narrative jumps around from the perspectives of many different characters, but the most time is undoubtedly spent with Hitomi and Kyosuke. Sadly, there is no gameplay usage of Hitomi’s powers this time; the escape rooms are all done with Kyosuke, and they are more devious now than ever before. Personally, I found the next-to-last one to be incredibly obtuse and frustrating. I ultimately had to consult a video playthrough on YouTube for that. (The YouTuber in question didn’t seem to have the same issues figuring things out that I did. So I guess your mileage may vary.)

The “adventure game” segments make a return here as well, although they’ve also become a bit tougher to figure out. There are a couple of times when you might find yourself wandering the various location options, clicking on every possible action to try and progress. Luckily, there aren’t so many default options that you’re left flailing for very long. Even the longest period of clueless wandering lasted me a maximum of 15 minutes.

Once again, you have to make the correct dialogue choices if you want a positive ending. And once again, GameFAQs is your friend and co-pilot.

Ultimately, even the gated endings and occasional puzzle frustrations did little to curb my enthusiasm. I really had fun with these characters and their stories, I greatly enjoyed the majority of the escape rooms, and I was pretty satisfied with how it all wrapped up. The character designs/artwork get better and better as the series goes on. The selection of music tracks may be the same throughout the whole series, but I really dug on them, so I can’t complain. Do I have any other misgivings? Well, just one; the English localization is pretty sloppy. There are a pretty large number of typos, and the dialogue can sound stilted and awkward at times due to being a direct translation. It’s actually at its worst at the start of the first game. Luckily, after about 30 minutes of playtime, it settles in and finds its voice.

Seriously, they should really figure out a way to re-package these games for another system that doesn’t use the the dual-screen setup. Put all three of them together, and it’d easily be satisfying as a full retail release!

But for now, if you have a 3DS/2DS, they’re only $7.50 in total most of the time (and $15.00 at the worst). Do you like adventure game-style mysteries and visual novel-esque progression and, of course, escape rooms? You should give these a shot! And I hope these devs get to make games with bigger budgets and better localizations in the future.

#parascientific escape #parascientific escape: gear detective #parascientific escape: cruise in the distant seas #parascientific escape: crossing at the farthest horizon #3ds #2ds #3ds games #2ds games #video games #visual novels #Kyosuke Ayana #hitomi akeneno #escape room games

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milk-carton-whump · 3 years

Text

My longest single fic yet! Lol I definitely got carried away and didn't know what direction to take this but some hurt/comfort for Niner. 1,328 words! A new milk carton record!

Tagging: @sideblogformindtrash @tears-and-lilies @unicornscotty @getyourwhumphere @heathenville @cupcakes-and-pain @twistedcaretaker @skunkandgrenade @alliecat5594 @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

CW: dehumaniziation, pet whump, smacked, conditioning, hurt/comfort, nudity (non sexual), forced to strip (non sexual), bathing, bath, cleaning wounds, haircut, blood mention, bruises, scar mention, touch starvation, fearful whumpee, cruel whumper, dubcon touching (non sexual)

Niner and the Groomer

It had been months upon months and Dr. Birch was pleased with the progress of K-9-MUT281, he had been a late bloomer in the program but it had all been worth it. She truly loved her job because she loved seeing transformations. It was always an experience to watch the pet's come in from the street their original personality showing only for it to be shaped by the program.

K-9-MUT281 had been a quiet, emotional, and meek thing when he had first come to them. But now, he was aggressive, protective, and instinct driven, though he did have a more docile side to him that they couldn't get rid of. The program was a science and with the subjects being so different there were many variables they couldn't control, however it managed to give each pet a personality that the owner could easily manipulate if they chose.

Dr. Birch approached the kennel where they kept many of the nearly fully trained pets, it was an upgrade from the large room they were given initially. Each pet had a small fenced rectangle that they could call theirs, in the guard dog unit each one was fiercely protected by its inhabitant.

She walked up to one of the gates and heard growling as she looked in. Inside was a boy with a pretty unruly mop of brown hair, he kept to himself in the corner of the enclosure and stayed low to the ground to keep himself safe. She could see from his watchful gaze that he wondered what she wanted with him.

Casually she unlocked the gate and entered the small kennel, this caused 281 to growl at her again and take up a more defensive stance to challenge her. A simple command to sit and stay was all she had to say for him to quiet his growling as he followed the order. She walked over and ran a hand through his hair, a soft growl came from his throat. The sound of her hand cracking across his face made his growling stop immediately, instead it turned into a softer whimper.

"Don't growl at me when I pet you, mutt. Being pet is a privilege, treat it as such." She snapped at him.

He trembled slightly and leaned into her touch, he had already been bad. After a few more moments of petting she clipped his leash on and gave it a sharp tug, making the collar dig into his neck. He got up and followed her out, the walk was long and through the winding blank hallways that he got easily bored with it and managed to start chewing on the leash as they walked.

Finally they reached a room that looked similar to the one the pet's normally were bathed in but this one was different. There was a table or platform with a leash looking thing attached to it. He was so busy trying to figure out what it was that the feeling of a muzzle being put on his face made him flinch. Dr. Birch patted his head as she hooked his leash to a spot on the wall.

"I'll be back later mutt, behave."

It took him a moment to realize that there was another person in the room with him, a friendly looking girl with pink hair that was pulled back into a short pony tail. She knelt down in front of him since he had defaulted to sitting on his knees. He looked at her wearily, unsure of what she was going to do to him.

"Hi there, good boy. We're gonna get you all groomed up so you can be put on sale tomorrow." She said softly and gently reached out to touch him.

He leaned away in concern, he was unsure of whether to trust her and scowled slightly to show he didn't really want her to touch him. She retracted her hand and instead grabbed the other end of the leash as she stood up.

"Well let's get you all cleaned up hmm? I'm Molly, what's your name good boy?" She asked as he hesitantly followed her to a bathtub.

"K-9-MUT281… ma'am." He said in a hushed voice while she asked him to strip off his company issued clothes.

"That's an awful long name Niner. But I'm sure your new owner will give you a shorter one?" She said casually as he climbed into the bathtub and hugged his knees to his chest.

"M'name isn't Niner…" he said softly as she showered him down with warm water, watching dried blood and dirt get washed down the drain.

"Don't worry yourself over that, I like to give each pet a little nickname, just while I work on them... That's okay, not too hot?" She said as he let her start to scrub his body.

He wouldn't admit it now but he liked the idea of his own little name, Niner was a nice name, short and easy to remember. However, he hated that she was touching him and scrubbing his body. He wasn't fond of baths after one of Dr. Birch's assistants sprayed him with a powerful hose. He couldn't explain it but the pink haired girl made this bath more tolerable.

She couldn't help but frown as she looked over his countless bruises, healing cuts, and scars that he had begun to develop. She was especially careful as she washed over newer bruises.

"Niner, can I trust you to not bite me? I need to wash your face." She asked softly.

He nodded, he liked her and wouldn't want to bite her, not anymore at least. He wanted to bite that horrible blonde Bitch though she didn't deserve his docile side.

The muzzle was unbuckled and hesitantly taken off, he just watched her carefully, in case she decided to betray the small bit of trust he had put in her. She gently wiped the dirt and tear stains from his face, the warm washcloth she used was wonderful and he leaned into her touch. She moved his collar to clean the partially scarred skin there.

"Alright sweetheart, I'm gonna wash your hair now." She said as she wet his brown hair with the shower head. It took her some time with detangling shampoo and her fingers to get the knots out.

She rinsed him off and started to dry him with a soft towel, he let out a quiet laugh as she gently squished his face with the towel. She put him in a new pair of socks and shorts. She had him sit on the odd table from earlier and looped the weird leash around his neck, he trembled and let out a soft whine.

"Relax Niner, you're okay. It's just to keep your head up while I cut your hair. You're a good boy, just sit still."

He was still trembling but let her comb and cut his hair, she shaped it just so it was more of a shaggy mullet. He couldn't explain it but his head felt lighter, it was a nice change. She got out a blow dryer and turned it on low to blow the little pieces of hair from his shoulders.

She took the loop off from around his neck and cupped his face in her hands. He let out a soft whine as she pet his face and hair, he immediately leaned into the touch and pressed his forehead against hers. She let out a soft laugh and smiled. He smiled though it was faint, he didn't want to become attached to her, he wasn't going to see her again after all.

"You're a good boy, Niner. I hope you find a nice home." She said as she buckled the wire muzzle back on.

He was good, he liked her and her friendly touch. If being a good boy meant that someone might pet him like that, then he would try to be a very good boy for his owner.

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detectivecarlosreyes · 3 years

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In Case of Emergency (Ch 8/10)

Ao3 | 2.2/15.6k | Buddie | Status: Incomplete

Prev. Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 8: 30 feet of mud between you and me Both Buck and Eddie struggle with the concept of sleep after Eddie gets taken to the hospital and Buck gets through the rest of the shift wondering what the rest of the team thought of reaction to Eddie's accidental burial. Set mid-Eddie Begins- 3x15, after Eddie's self-rescue and before Chris's show and tell.

Retrospectively, Buck knew he had let his emotions get the best of him. Losing his best friend, his partner, the man he decidedly loves to the depths of the earth to a place that he couldn’t easily follow was unlike anything that he ever felt, and it sent him in a spiral of despair that could not be easily explained to the others.

And it wasn’t just the fact that Eddie was trapped under 30 feet of mud with no certain rescue that sat heavily on his chest, it was his immediate thought afterward - what am I going to tell Chris? - that really had him hell-bent in believing that despite the odds, Eddie was somehow still okay because he just couldn’t fathom any alternative that didn’t result in Chris getting to see his father again.

And then Eddie was just there, having resurfaced in a way that was so typically Eddie that Buck couldn’t feel anything other than joy and relief. He reveled in just being able to hold Eddie’s hand even for the short period it took to get him to an ambulance.

Buck was ready to get out of there as soon as he could because all his thoughts were consumed by Eddie and the gravity of that situation, of the fact that he’d almost lost him for good. The need to see him and hold him to be sure his self-rescue wasn’t a figment of his imagination was near overwhelming, thankfully when they returned to the station, they were mercifully free of calls for the next few hours allowing them time to get warm and clean after being out in that torrential rainfall, but that didn’t mean he was able to get even a wink of shut-eye.

And with the mental exhaustion of being at the tail end of a 24-hr shift, there was little energy for speculative conversation to which Buck was secretly grateful because at least the tiredness gave him a buffer from the potential consequence of that call resulting in Cap calling him into his office to discuss interpersonal relationships and ask the questions that could very well be on everyone’s mind since witnessing his less than subtle emotional outbursts, something he assumed based on the way they looked at him.

Not that it would be a bad thing seeing as neither he nor Eddie were actively trying to keep it a secret anymore, not since Christmas really, but it was one thing for people to guess and speculate, and another thing entirely him to announce and confirm it without his better half present and consenting to share such news.

Much to his relief, the end of their shift came around soon enough, and having had a message relayed from Eddie through the hospital reminding him that Chris would need to be picked up from Pepa’s for school, a job he usually reserved himself but seeing as he was out of commission the job defaulted to Buck, meaning he had to leave as soon as humanely possible to keep to the schedule.

It was enough for Chim and Hen to question his eagerness to leave, seeing as he was usually the one of the last out of the station.

“What got you in a rush this morning?” asked Hen as he collected both his and Eddie’s bags, slinging them over his shoulders, “got somewhere to be or something?”

He looked at his watch and said distractedly without missing a beat as he added up time it would take to get from the station to Pepa’s and then to the school, “Actually yeah, I need to pick Christopher up for school seeing as Eddie is still at the hospital, and if I’m going to make it, I really need to leave right now. I’ll see you guys later.”

And promptly left with a wave, leaving Hen and Chim to share a long questioning look before staring after him, only now noticing that he was in fact not just carrying his own bag.

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

Eddie was glad to finally be allowed to go home having been given the all-clear some 8 hours later.

The hours had passed slowly for him, lying in the hospital bed, waiting for his observation period to be over. It was excruciating, especially knowing that he could not for the life of him get any measure of rest despite being told by the hospital staff that was exactly what he should be doing.

It was something that he was unable to do, not when his mind was replaying what happened in that tunnel over and over again feeling as though he’d just barely cheated death, which in reality he had. He shouldn’t have survived being trapped down there, probably wouldn’t have it not for the family that he created for himself, with the fire station, with Buck, with Buck and Christopher.

Christopher.

Tears had sprung to his eyes at the thought of his son, knowing that he had been so close to not being able to return to him and that Chris could have very nearly lost both parents in the space of a year. It was a sobering thought, one that plagued him in the early hours of the morning while most of the hospital still slept.

And thinking about it all had just left him restless, itching to hold his son in his arms to remind himself that he actually did make it out and Chris still had a father to come home to. It was those thoughts as well that lead to remind him that he was supposed to be taking him to school and ended up convincing one of the nurses to call Buck to take his place for the morning, something he knew Buck would do without hesitation.

Speaking of Buck; the man showed up after dropping Chris off with an inexplicable warmth to him greeting him with a soft “hey” before insisting that he hang around until he was discharged despite looking just as exhausted as he felt, as if he had just as little sleep as himself.

Much to his displeasure, his body still betrayed him still showing signs of exhaustion despite being given a clean bill of health. And Buck walked closely beside his tired frame to the door carrying both of their bags and opened the door using his own key looking distinctly at home in doing so, a stark difference to the first time all those months ago.

With a sigh he sat on the couch, eyelids drooping while Buck left him for the kitchen stating he should at least have a shower while he made them some tea before getting some rest. Rest: there was that word again. Something Eddie was slowly beginning to hate because every time he closed his eyes he was back in that hole, trapped and alone. It was enough to keep the chill in his bones.

Reluctantly, he trudged to the bathroom and turned the shower on as hot as he could stand, and gave himself a quick but thorough wash not wanting to be surrounded by water for longer than necessary, unwilling to let the sensation of it get the best of him.

Soon after, he returned to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing out the pillow and finding himself unable to lay down, terrified that the moment he closed his eyes he would just keep reliving that moment when he realised he was alone, no connection to the outside world, no way of knowing that they knew he was still alive.

“I made you some camomile tea, thought it might help,” Buck announced as he joined him in the bedroom, setting the tea beside him on the bedside table, before turning and standing between his legs, cupping his cheek with one hand and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Eddie couldn’t help but lean into it with his eyes closed, relishing in the contact.

It was over too soon, and he mourned the loss of contact until he heard the sound of clothes rustling and opened his eyes to see Buck changing into his sleepwear. He watched over his shoulder as Buck climbed onto the bed behind him and felt his heart speeding up at the prospect of the simple act of sleeping.

“Eds?”

“I can’t close my eyes, Buck.” He admitted under his breath unable to move from his spot, “I still feel cold even though I know that I’m not and I’m afraid if I close my eyes, I’ll open them again and I’ll be back there.”

He felt Buck’s weight shifting on the bed before his warm body pressed up against his back, a firm but gentle hand placed on his waist, and Buck’s lips lightly touched the junction between neck and shoulder.

“If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t been able to sleep either,” Buck murmured against his shirt, “Let me be here, with you- for you. I’ll keep you warm.”

He could feel the tension melt from his shoulders, not realising that he had been holding any in the first place and allowed Buck to drag him with him to lie down. Almost instantly he relaxed into the comfort of Buck’s arms, feeling the heat the man radiated seep into his core, warming him up in the specific way that he had been sorely needing.

And they just lay there in the still partially lit room, finding an easy rhythm in their breaths. He was close to sleep before he started with a sharp intake of breath, his brain reminding him of one important thought, “What about Chris? We need to pick him up from school.”

Buck shushed and lazily stroked a hand in his hair, “Don’t worry, I’ve got an alarm that’s hours from now to get us up before pick up, and then we can cuddle him on the couch for as long as you want, but right now we both need to sleep.”

That was something that he loved about Buck. His innate sense of knowing and understanding him as much as he knew and understood himself. He settled back down, nestled in Buck’s arms, and reflexively breathed out the words neither of them has said out of fear of saying it too soon despite knowing how the other felt.

“I love you.”

Buck’s arms gently tightened around him, pulling him in closer to his chest as he answered softly into his hair, “I love you too, Eddie.”

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

True to his word Buck’s alarm startled them into consciousness. Much to their relief, sleep had come easily, exhaustion pulling them under swiftly, leaving no room for dreams or memories to wake them.

In no time they were dressed and fed with sandwiches Buck had prepared earlier when he was in the shower and were at pickup waiting for the moment that Eddie had been waiting for since he resurfaced in that pond.

“Daddy!”

After that nothing else mattered, he scooped up his son and held him tight and wouldn’t let him go, even going so far as sitting in the backseat with him on the drive home.

“Bucky said you had to go to the hospital because you got really cold when it was raining last night. Did they help you get warm?”

“That’s right bud, I was very cold and tired because I was helping a little boy, only a couple of years younger than you, get back to his mom.”

“You saved him?”

“He sure did Chris! Your daddy is a hero.” Chimed in Buck from the driver’s seat, and Eddie shared a look with him as Buck mouthed in the reflection of the mirror, our hero.

Soon enough the three of them were cuddled up together under a blanket on the couch with Eddie in the middle and Chris and Buck on either side of him, bellies full of pizza and ice cream, slowly being lulled into a food coma while watching the latest Disney movie that Chris was excited about.

Eddie was content, having the two reasons that helped him make it back alive wedged under each arm, feeling the most at peace than he had ever been in the last 24 hours.

By the time the credits were rolling, Chris was out like a light and he and Buck weren’t that far behind, despite having a solid 5-hour nap earlier. So, they drowsily set about relocating Chris into bed before falling into their own, resuming their earlier position with Eddie curled around Buck’s side head on his chest with Buck’s arms circled around him, securing him in place.

He was nearly lulled to sleep by the sound of Buck’s steady heartbeat when Buck’s voice quietly rumbled in his chest.

“Hey Eddie.”

He hummed in response, not bothering to open his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure the team knows about us now,”

“Is that so?” He asked with an air of levity as he shifted his head.

“I would like to preface it and say that it’s not my fault, I thought I lost you.”

“I guess I can forgive you for that,” He answered before quietly laughing into Buck’s chest, “Really it’s on them for taking so long to notice anyway, its not like we’ve been all that subtle at recent gatherings.”

Buck softly snorted at that, “Yeah, that’s true.”

“We can figure it out in the morning when we’re awake to remember it.” He suggested with a deep yawn, barely able to stay conscious.

He barely got a whispered okay before they were both fast asleep in another peaceful slumber.

#jess writes #my fic #911 fic #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 on fox #buddie #userkourt #userkimmy #userpauline #userjillian #eddiesdiaz #gracieli #useraninha #javachik #tuserjamie #buddie4ever20

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your-lady-star · 4 years

Text

Fallen M!Corrin is Better Than Fallen F!Corrin

Bit of a hot take here for me to do, but I’ve honestly have had complications with Fallen F!Corrin for a while, and now that my baby boy has his own, I figured now is a better time than any to get into my issues with her fallen alt and why M!Corrin does it significantly better.

Now I’m not going to talk about their skills and usefulness in battle, mainly cause I don’t care about that at all, I’m going to be focusing solely on design and how well it connects to the thematic surrounding the story of Fallen Corrin. And that’s a good starting point.

I remember back when last years fallen banner was revealed and I saw a lot of people wondering why Corrin was on the banner since they never turn evil in game. I think people forget what the purpose of the fallen banner is; it’s not to show inherently evil characters, it’s to show, well, fallen heroes. Characters who’s mindsets, goals, an ethics were once just, but have been corrupted by a dark force, whether it’d be psychological or external. And, while it’s easy to forget, Corrin is fighting a psychological battle for his sanity every minute of every day.

Corrin’s dragon blood is very potent and very powerful, more so than any of the other royals, hence why he’s able to fully transform into a dragon. One downside of this is that dragons within the world of Fire Emblem are described as being inherently destructive and blood thirsty, something we clearly see with Corrin as his first transformation into a dragon had him go on a destructive rampage and attack Azura. He’s given the dragonstone for the express purpose of maintaining control of these urges and keeping his sanity in check.

The fallen version is meant to showcase what would happen if they couldn’t maintain control, whether it’d be from not getting the dragonstone in time or the dragonstone not being of much help or maybe a completely different reason; it’s designed to show what would happen if Corrin surrendered to their draconic urges and became the monstrous killing machine they dread becoming, especially with the implications that Corrin may have possibly killed Aura during the initial attack. A Corrin who is lost to destructive urges and has become a monster that cannot be stopped, that is the theme to their fallen counterparts.

And while M!Corrin does that job fantastic, F!Corrin not so much.

Now we can finally get into discussing the art for these two and how well they do at showcasing this theme.

Let’s start with their default stance.

M!Corrin has a wide stance and is slightly hunched over, akin to that of an animal, and his tail being out further plays into that. The way its wrapped out to the front of his body with the spikes facing outward not only gives his stance a bit of a defensive feel, but also threatening, as though to let other know what they’re getting themselves into by challenging him. The way his hands are tensed up to look like claws makes it very intimidating and the way his left hand is positioned in that almost “come here” gesture gives a sense that he’s daring you to try to stop his, furthered with the way his right hand is placed in that cocky arrogance fashion that FE has used before. But the most telling feature is his eyes and face. That sense of cockiness is present with the way his eyebrows are raised and the slight curve of his mouth as well as that feel of lunacy with the ways his eyes seem to be different sizes, which anyone who has ever watched anime knows is clue number one that a character is a f*cking psychopath. But the most interesting thing is the dead emptiness is his expression. As though he isn’t truly there mentally, that he’s completely surrendered to the madness and is just a vessel for his cursed bloods madness. It’s downright terrifying and incredibly intriguing all at once.

Overall, this default art is fantastic and does a great job at giving a memorable first impression and teases for whats to come. It’s one of the best artworks to come out of Heroes for not only how well it does at displaying the theme of the character, but for being able to say so much with a single image.

On the other hand...

Alright, so on an objective standpoint there isn’t anything wrong with the default art for fallen F!Corrin. It looks great, it’s nicely detailed and it’s clear that a lot of time went into it. My issue with it is how poorly it does at representing a corrupted Corrin.

I get that the idea behind her design is that she’s slowly wearing herself down trying to fight back against her dark urges, but the art doesn’t do a good job at portraying that. The only real indication of her supposed exhaustion is a single bead of sweat running down her thigh and (maybe) one on her cheek, and everything from her facial expression to the way her arms are placed to her general stance comes off looking “embarrassed” rather than “tired”. She looks less like a woman desperately battling a losing battle to maintain control over her humanity and more like a typical anime girl who was walked in on by her crush while changing. The over-beautification of F!Corrin’s design already doesn’t do much to help with that (but that’s a discussion I’ll save for another day). Even the tail, one of the most striking features on fallen M!Corrin’s design, doesn’t have the same presence. It being mostly behind her not only loses that sense of defense and intimidation, but it causes the tail to blend into her and become less noticeable. I’m not even joking when I say that I didn’t even notice that she had a tail until the third time I saw this art.

Like I said, the art isn’t bad, it just doesn’t do the core theme justice. Rather than looking worn down, she looks slightly perturbed at best. Rather than looking menacing, she looks meek. And rather than fitting into a banner themed around great heroes falling into darkness, this feels like something that would fit in more in a summer or Easter banner (which is extremely ironic considering what I’ll get into later). It’s a build up for a set of art that’s supposed to make me feel sorry for her, but only accomplishes in making me think of how much she looks like me when I’m waiting for my brothers to hurry up in the bathroom.

Once more the dynamic weight and posing in the artwork shines brilliantly in his neutral attack pose. Lunging forward keeps in with the animalistic nature along with his hands once more tensed like claws, one reeling back to get ready to strike. With the way his cape and tail, curled almost like a snake or scorpion, flow behind him create a real feeling of movement and his expression dark but subdued, it makes for this real intense energy coming from his as he lunges for his prey. My favorite aspect being how the shadows form on his face, hiding it just enough to conceal his murderous intent while still allowing the harsh red of his eyes to shine prominently. And while there isn’t any discernible difference in his hair, the way it’s wrapped around his face and flowing to his movement give that much needed edge to his glare. And with the dark purple miasma flowing and highlighting points of interest, it makes for a truly great piece.

This isn’t really a problem that’s singular to fallen F!Corrin, as IS does struggle to give dragon units unique attack art that doesn’t just have the character either standing still or slightly curved with their arms either out at their sides or holding whatever stone they use to transform. So I can appreciate that they tried to do something different with her attack art. But, again, the problem is how it doesn’t fit with what they’re trying to represent.

Her expression is that of either mild annoyance or boredom, giving no indication that she’s in pain from having to fight. There’s no real tensity in any part of her body, having more of a grace and fluidity that is commonly used on dancer units. Her tail is more visible, but nothing is really being done with it. It’s not extenuating anything or highlighting a part of her body, it’s just curled on her legs. And any sense of intimidation is lost because the most threatening part of the tail, the spikes, are no longer in the foreground. Sense of movement is also an issue here. The way her cape and hair are framed makes it feel like she just jumped off of something and is having a rough landing and there’s no feeling for how she moved to attack, no ferocity in her actions. Again, it’s akin to more of a dancer than a feral dragon.

And this is small nitpick I have, but it really bugs me. I don’t like how the purple miasma for F!Corrin is lighter than M!Corrin’s. It might seem like a minuscule thing to be worried about, but the darker tone on his gives a real feel of dread and despair. The lighter tones are hers don’t stand out as much and don’t give any real negative emotion to her state. Yeah, she’s supposed to be fighting to maintain control, but having them be darker would help to represent that desperation and hopelessness. You can still have lighter hues, but they need to work in tandem to the darker colors.

Because when you do, you get beauty like this.

Just look at this masterpiece. The lighter purple flames mixing well with the darker flames, coming together in the center like a twisted mockery of where the dragonstone would be in any other art, curling around his body like a charging beast quickly closing in on you. His eyes glowing an ethereal mix of his natural red and the miasma around him, giving them a horrific shine that stand out a mile away and full of pure demented blood lust. And his mouth; wide open, fangs bearing in a horrific grimace, ready to sink into whatever stands in his way.

I don’t usually throw this term around, but I don’t hesitate to use it here: this art is flawless.

This art, however, I can’t attach flawless to. The mix of purple and dark pink and the lighting it casts does look really good, but it’s an intense mix to a subdued reaction. Her eyes don’t look anymore ferocious than they do on any of her other alts and there’s no glow to them to make her look like her darker urges are beginning to influence her. The clawed hand could be a cool feature, but it’s hard to see since it’s being blocked out by all the pink! I actually didn’t even notice that her hand was clawed until I looked up her artwork for this post! Such a distinguished feature shouldn’t be this hard to notice. Not to mention, even if the claw was more visible, it doesn’t hold the same level of intimidation as her male counterpart due to how thin and spindly her arms and hand are. This feels like a slight upgrade to her original forms special art and is extremely disappointing.

After the Adrift banner, I am pleased to see a M!Corrin alt where his damaged art doesn’t tear his clothes off. But even with the minimal physical damage, you can’t deny how good this looks.

The rips on his left hand give it a jagged look that nicely compliments how tense his hand is.His right is clawed and raised, poised to attack and surrounded by the miasma in a way that highlights it without overshadowing it. His tail raised and thrashing about in a fit of rage, further complimented by his crouched over stance and, of course, his face. Corrin’s facial expressions across each form of his fallen counterpart has been his best feature, and this is easily the best of the four. That look of pure, unadulterated, unrelenting rage is so disturbing and amazing at the same time. Damage art in Heroes typically has the character looking shocked, sad, perturbed, or not phased by it. This is the only damage art I can think of where the character is f*cking pissed. That is a look that screams “I”m going to f*cking annihilate you for doing that” and it’s utterly glorious.

Oh boy, this art.

Nearly everything I praised about M!Corrin’s damage art is the exact opposite for the female.

The stance is very generic and holds no emotion other than “Ow, I’m hurt”. Her facial expression doesn’t register pain at all, looking more like she’s inconvenienced because someone splashed water on her. Her tail, despite being very dominant, is just sitting there with no fluidity. Physical damage is far greater here, but all it does is distract the viewer who is too busy getting off to her exposed legs and thighs! And whether it'd be because of shaky perspective or shoddy work, but her hands and arms are distractedly small and thin. It looks like her arms would shatter if she pushed someone too hard.

This is my lease favorite of her arts entirely because it exemplifies the main problem with fallen F!Corrin’s design and why M!Corrin did it better.

It focuses more on making Corrin look cute rather than having her actually represent the theme she’s supposed to be.

The titles for the two Corrin’s are Bloodbound Beast and Wailing Soul. M!Corrin perfectly embodies his title while F!Corrin struggles to just barely hint at. Both of them are meant to show a pure hearted and noble individual being corrupted by the very blood coursing through their veins, yet only one of them is really putting in any effort to properly represent this. And while I can’t give any concrete evidence of this, I feel like the main thing that kept the female variant from properly doing the job was because they got the wrong person to draw her.

And look, I don’t have anything against Sencha, fallen F!Corrin’s artist; they’re extremely talented. But looking at their record for art in Heroes can tell you that they weren’t the right one for this. This is the same person who did the summer and adrift art for F!Corrin (they also did bridal Tharja, but that’s not related here), and both of them have a distinctive style to them. They’re graceful, beautiful, serene, cheerful. Sencha is very good at drawing Corrin very pleasant and lovely. However, Sencha clearly isn’t that good at drawing Corrin miserable and withered. And that’s understandable. Making someone completely shift the genre they’re used to is a serous challenge and it’d be no surprise if they can’t handle it. So, despite my claim that they got the wrong artist for her, I don’t blame Sencha for not doing as well.

Then again, I doubt that this wasn’t a challenge for Argon, fallen M!Corrin’s artist. Their Heroes portfolio consists of mostly seasonal alts for various male characters, though they also did Cormag, which shows that they do more dynamic posing and harsher color saturation. If anything, the fact that they did such a phenomenal job on Corrin shows they got some serious skill at drawing more demented characters. Hopefully they get to do this more often, I need to see more of their work like this.

So, at the end of this long diatribe, I’ll once again reiterate that I don’t dislike fallen F!Corrin for any personal bias towards the male version or because the art is objectively bad. It’s a nicely done art, but one that doesn't suit what the character is to represent. And the fact that fallen M!Corrin utterly blew it out the water in his artwork really made it worse for her.

... Was this all just on big excuse for me to gush about fallen M!Corrin’s artwork?

Maybe.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got orbs to hoard.

#fire emblem heroes #fire emblem fates #corrin #fe corrin #m!corrin #f!corrin #character design #design critic #this banner sold me in the first two seconds #i think you can see why

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harley-sunday · 4 years

Text

Final Approach [01]

Summary: Something’s different at Sandspit Airport when you return after some much needed time off.

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader (f)

Warnings: Language

Word count: 3352

AN: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while now and I think I’m finally ok with putting it out there. You can blame my endless love for NGC’s ‘Air Crash Investigation’ (no crash involved here though!) and having worked in aviation for this. That it involves Chris Evans is somehow a given for me because he just seems to ‘fit’ the story. For the observant reader - yes I already posted this a week ago, but I didn’t like the direction it was taking and so I changed some things around. You might want to reread :)

Masterlist

You stifle a yawn just as Deb appears at your table with the Cobb salad you ordered a couple of minutes earlier, earning you a kind smile from the older woman before she says something that you don’t quite catch. Like pretty much always, Mike, the bartender, has turned the music up way too loud and so you point to your ear before you shake your head to let Deb know you didn't get any of what she said.

"You work too hard," she says, her voice raised just enough for it to reach you over the outro of Bruce Springsteen's 'Born to Run', the look on her face nothing short of judgmental, her arms now crossed in front of her chest for good measure. When your parents moved back to the mainland a little over ten years ago, Deb promised them to take good care of you and so you’re used to this by now.

There's a lull in the music then, in which you assure her you're fine even though you know she doesn't believe you. You sit upright to appear more awake but the scowl doesn’t disappear and you know there’s nothing you can do to convince her otherwise. She’s right, of course she is, but you can’t let her know that, now can you? “Must be because I just had a couple of weeks off,” you try in a last ditch effort, “too much sleep, I guess.”

The way she nods lets you know she doesn't really believe you but that she'll let it go for now. It's at that moment Mike turns up the volume even more for Chumbawamba's 'Tubthumping' to let everyone know happy hour is about to begin. A loud cheer erupts inside Don Cherry’s Bar and so all you can do is smile in a way that you hope tells her there’s nothing to worry about.

Deb just winks and mouths, "Enjoy your meal!" She never could stay angry for too long.

Like every Friday night the bar is slowly filling up, most if not all of the patrons Prince Rupert locals who have known each other, and thus by default you, since pretty much the day they were born. The high table you're sat at is closest to the door and so all throughout your meal a chorus of, "Hey, how are ya?" and, "Good, how about yourself?" echoes around you as more and more people make their way inside.

There’s chatter all around you but you eat in silence, eager to finish your meal and head home. No happy hour for you tonight, you still need to unpack and get some laundry done before you get back to work on Monday.

As if on cue Deb brings your bill the moment you push the plate away from you, because that’s how well she knows you. You hand her your card and while you wait for her to return it you grab your jacket off the back of your chair and put it on, pulling the zipper all the way up because you know it’s going to be cold outside. They’ve predicted some snow over the weekend, which is unusual on the island, but there has been a chill in the air that tells you the forecast might be right.

Deb hands you your card and the receipt back with a smile and tells you to enjoy your weekend.

You’re about to tell her you will, but she’s already rushing off to another table and so instead you wave to Mike who winks at you from behind the bar. You greet a few other people on your way out and nod to the guy who’s holding the door open for you, who you recognize as someone you went to Kindergarten with.

It’s dark outside even though it’s still early, but that’s how it is this time of year. You hurry towards your car, hands deep in your pockets and shoulders up high, trying as much as possible to shield yourself from the cold. It’s not much better inside though and you’re quick to start the car so you can at least get the heater going. It takes you a few tries to get the engine running, but your car is old and always acts up when the temperatures drop below forty degrees and so you are not too worried.

That is until you’re almost halfway home and all of a sudden there’s a weird shudder that runs through your car before the ‘check engine’ light comes on. Before you even have a chance to react everything shuts off and you come to a complete standstill on the middle of the road.

“Fuck.”

Sixth Avenue isn’t a particularly busy street, day or night, and there are street lights on either side, but you still turn on your hazard lights, relieved to see they at least still work. With a sigh you get out and kick the front tire for good measure before you realize you’re going to have to push your car off the road until it can get towed. Leaning back in you put it in neutral and grab a hold of the steering wheel before you try to push it to get it moving.

It won’t budge.

Fine. It’s fine. You’ll just leave it here for now and call Burt to come pick it up. His tow trucking service’s only a few miles away so it shouldn’t take too long. You take your phone out of your back pocket and push the home button only to see the screen light up with a battery warning. Of course. Unlocking your phone proves to be too much and so that dies on you too then.

It takes everything you have not to scream in frustration and so you aren’t really paying attention to what’s going on around you.

“You ok?”

The voice comes out of nowhere and scares the shit out of you and so you can’t help but curse, “Jesus!”

“I’m sorry,” he takes a step back, hands up to show you he means no harm, “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see if you were alright and if you need any help.“

“Well, you scared the shit out of me,” you say even though, in all honesty, you’re glad there’s someone kind enough to come up to you. You take him in and realize you don’t know him, which is weird, because over here there really are no strangers. It’s hard to get a good look at his face though, because he’s wearing a baseball cap that’s pulled low over his eyes, the logo on it not one you recognize. It’s then you notice a dog sitting next to him, patiently waiting for whatever comes next.

You’re about to ask him if he’s new here but then he interrupts your thoughts, “But you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” you assure him. You motion towards your car then, “This thing though, not so much. And my phone’s dead, so you know, double the fun.”

He chuckles, “What’s wrong with it?”

“I think it’s the battery. I mean, you get an iPhone and you would think that by now they would have figured out how to make the battery last longer than one day, but no-“

“I was talking about the car,” he interrupts you and laughs, “but if you want to talk shit about Apple products for a little longer, please, be my guest.”

You smile and shrug, “It’s an old car, who knows what’s wrong with it? Maybe you could have a look?”

He puts his hands in his pockets and kicks the gravel at his feet, not looking at you now, “I’m not really that great with cars.”

You snort, “So much for helping a lady out.”

“Hey,” he crosses his arms in a defensive manner, but smiles anyway, “at least I have a cell phone that’s fully charged, thank you very much.”

You throw him a wink, “That’s the one thing you have going for you at this moment.”

“Listen, why don’t I call someone for you and I’ll wait here until they arrive?”

“That’s really not necessary,” you hold up your hands when you see his eyebrows knit together in confusion, “I mean the call, yes, please, but really, you don’t have to wait here with me. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” He doesn’t sound convinced. “Let me at least call first to see how long it’ll take.”

“Fine.” You give him Burt’s number and listen as he tells him where you’re at and what’s going on while you take a step closer to pet his dog, his tail wagging when you scratch him behind his ears. You can’t hear what’s being said on the other end, but he ends the call with a “Thank you,” shortly after.

‘He’ll be here in five,”

“See,” you nod, “I’ll be fine.”

“Well, if you’re sure,”

“I am.” It’s not that you don’t want him to stay, it’s just that you don’t want to hold him here on a Friday night, you’re sure he’s got other things to do. You smile at him, “Thanks for your help though.”

He lets out a low whistle that has his dog jump to its feet, “No worries.”

You’re quietly singing along to the song that’s been stuck in your head since the moment you got up this morning when a flicker of light on your left draws your attention. A quick glance over your shoulder and out of the window has you smiling, the reflection of the sun in the water of Mathers Lake bouncing around beautifully, like a welcome back sign from Louise Island. All around the lake there are flecks of orange and yellow, surrounded by fir trees that stay a dark shade of lush green all-year round.

Seeing Mathers Lake lets you know you’re almost at your destination and so you hit the switch to transmit the call to let Joanne know you’re on your way, “Sandspit Tower, this is PASCO seven five, fifteen miles out south, requesting inbound.”

“PASCO seven five, report over channel three for runway one left.”

You’re about to respond, almost absentmindedly, like you’ve done a hundred times before, but then you realize something’s off. It takes you a moment to realize what it is. Because unless Joanne’s voice suddenly dropped a few octaves, there’s someone else in the tower. Panic hits you almost instantly, knowing Joanne would never give up her seat out of free will. Hell, she tends to joke she’ll be at Sandspit until the days she- Oh shit.

“PASCO seven five?” The unfamiliar voice returns. “Report over channel three for runway one left.”

“Who the hell are you and what did you do to Joanne?” It comes out more like an accusation and less like the question you intended it to be, but you’re freaking out just a little bit because why isn’t Jo answering your call? Jesus, you were only gone four weeks.

“PASCO seven five, please confirm.”

There’s a lot more authority in his voice and it sets you on edge almost immediately. This can’t be a good sign. Right? You let out a frustrated sigh with the mic still open before you respond, “Sandspit Tower, PASCO seven five, reporting over channel three for runway one left.” Then, as an afterthought, “You still owe me an explanation though.”

“PASCO seven five,” there’s a hint of irritation seeping through now, “do I need to remind you of protocol?”

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see you, but also because you know he’s right. You’ve broken just about every aviation protocol there is, but things like that never really mattered at Sandspit Airport, not until now anyway. Apparently whoever took over from Joanne is a stickler for the rules. Cursing quietly, you switch to channel three even though he’ll still be the one taking your call because Sandspit Airport isn’t big enough for Tower and Ground to be separate departments. And because you’re still a little upset and want to stick it to him, you put on the voice you only ever use at Bella Coola airport, where the woman working at ATC is an absolute bitch, “Sandspit Ground, PASCO seven five, requesting inbound on runway one left, if it so pleases you.” Then in a sing-song voice, “Thank you.”

The reply comes almost immediately and is as unfazed as it was before, “PASCO seven five, enter right for runway.”

Shaking your head ever so slightly you try to regain your focus - you have an airplane to land, after all. You’ll figure out what happened to Jo once you’re on the ground, you decide, before you sit up in your seat and relay the latest information, “Sandspit Ground, PASCO seven five, entering right for runway. Seven miles out.”

You’ve just started the checklist needed before you can start your descent when his voice returns, a little kinder now, “Joanne retired two weeks ago, by the way.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Any concern for protocol has disappeared, knowing full well things aren’t as strict once you’re on Ground frequency. At least that doesn’t seem to have changed.

“She didn’t tell you?”

“No,” you shake your head even though no one can see you, “no, she did not.”

“I’m sorry.”

Realizing how defeated you must have sounded, you clear your throat before you continue, “Sandspit Ground, PASCO seven five, four miles out, please stand by.” You end the call and try to clear your head, knowing you need to focus on the task at hand. No matter how small the plane, taking off and landing are where most fatal errors happen and so there’s no room for distraction. But the checklist isn’t long and everything is as it should be and so you call back not much later, “Sandspit Ground, ready for final approach, please advise.”

“PASCO seven five, confirmed on runway one left.”

Even though Joanne won’t be there to greet you, you can’t help but smile when you see the Sandspit Air Traffic Control Tower in front of you, the two runways of the small airport looking as pristine as ever, no doubt thanks to Joe’s commitment to the place and his new sweeper. “Sandspit Ground, PASCO seven five, ready for touchdown on runway one left.”

“PASCO seven five, landing confirmed. Please taxi via Delta over to parking nineteen, one-niner.”

You scoff, pretty sure you heard the hint of a snicker coming through over the radio, “All the way in the back? Really?”

“Protocol, PASCO seven five," he replies almost instantly, but he doesn't sound all that serious.

“Fine,” you mutter before repeating, “Sandspit Ground, PASCO seven five, parking one-niner, taxi via Delta confirmed.” You lean forward in your seat a little as you fly past the tower, trying to catch a glimpse of this mysterious new air traffic controller. No such luck of course, because the mirrored windows only show the reflection of your plane.

Almost there, you think to yourself then, as you take a deep breath that you hold in until you feel your wheels hit the tarmac and you get to add another successful flight to your record. Superstitious? Maybe. But you’d rather be safe than sorry.

“Nice landing, PASCO seven five,” he compliments once you’ve touched down. “Dave will be your valet for today. Please standby.”

“At least Dave’s still here,” you joke quietly. “PASCO seven five, standing by.”

Your smile only grows wider when you see Dave guiding you onto your parking spot, because like Jo he’s been at Sandspit for as long as you can remember. Once you’re in the right place you kill your engine and wait for the propeller to slow down somewhat before you open your door and jump down onto the tarmac, “Hi Dave!”

“Hey kid, how have you been?” He gently slaps your shoulder, always considering you one of the guys albeit being a little less rough with you. Which you appreciate. “How was your holiday?”

“Good, good,” you reply while you take off your sunglasses and put them in the pocket of your jacket.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it was nice to be away for a while,” you admit easily.

Dave nods understandingly, “Sort of like a fresh start, eh?”

‘I guess it was,” you agree, although you don’t really want to talk about it. Not now. And so you change the subject rather abruptly, “But what’s this I hear about Jo retiring?”

“Well, you know she was long overdue anyway,” Dave explains as he opens your cargo door, “and then Roger had some troubles with his heart a couple of weeks back, right after you left, and I guess she decided enough was enough, ya know?”

“Hmm,” you respond absentmindedly, trying to figure out if you have time to go see Joanne and Roger soon, a little disappointed when you realize it won’t be for at least another couple of weeks. “Roger’s ok now, though?”

“Sure is,” he says with a wink, “they’re tough, those two.”

“Just like you,” you offer kindly, even though you absolutely mean it. Dave is one of the most dedicated ground crew out there and always ready to give you a hand even though you’ve told him many times already you’re more than capable to handle your own. Something Dave somehow never seems to remember.

“Oh stop it,” he grins, as he reaches into the cargo hold and grabs the first bag of mail, “you’re making me blush.”

“So…” you draw out, “who’s the guy replacing Jo?” You take the bag from him and place it on the back of his truck, “Sucker for protocol or what?”

“He’s not that bad,” Dave offers, “came in right after Jo left, from somewhere on the east coast I think. We still busy teaching him how things work around here.” He laughs then, “Don’t worry, kid, Joe and I will have him whipped into shape for you in no time.”

“Ah, thanks Dave,” you reply as you take another bag from him, “I knew I could count on you.”

“You know I got your back, kid.” He turns to you then and nods to his truck, “Let’s get some coffee before we load you up for your trip back, eh?”

Enjoying a cup of freshly brewed coffee you listen to Dave as he brings you up to date to the latest news and gossip at Sandspit Airport. Turns out none of the crew particularly liked the guy they sent in to replace you while you were on holiday, and once you learn it’s Chad Dave’s talking about you can’t help but agree. The guy’s a dick.

“Alright, kid,” Dave grunts as he gets up out of his chair after putting his now empty cup down on the table, “let’s get you loaded.”

There’s just one mail bag to take with you this time and some empty crates you know have to go back to Vancouver Airport eventually, and so loading only takes a couple of minutes. Before you know it you’re back in your seat, calling the tower once you’ve filled out the departure forms, “Sandspit Tower, PASCO seven five, at parking nineteen, one-niner, ready for departure.”

There’s no immediate reply but you decide to give him a couple of minutes, after all you’re not really in a rush. Plus, you figure, he might be occupied with some of the sightseeing planes that always circle the island in the afternoon and so you busy yourself with the weather forecast instead.

He comes on not much later, sounding a little out of breath as though he has been running, “PASCO seven five, hold short for runway two right via Charlie.”

You decide to ignore the probability of having caught him on a bathroom break and instead confirm, “Sandspit Tower, PASCO seven five, holding short for runway two right via Charlie.” As you line up at the runway you glance at the tower again, but of course there’s nothing to see from the ground and so you shrug and call him instead, “Sandspit Tower, PASCO seven five, ready for takeoff.”

“PASCO seven five, fly straight out until advised, runway two right, cleared for takeoff.”

“Sandspit Tower, PASCO seven five, taking off, flying straight out.” You open the throttle and build up speed as you move along the runway until finally there’s liftoff and you’re steadily climbing higher and higher. Some people ask if it never gets old, flying from one small airport to the other, the flights only three and a half hours at most, but you always assure them that even after seven years you still get as excited to get airborne as you did the first time.

“PASCO seven five,” he says, his breathing back to normal, “turn at your discretion.”

“Sandspit Tower, PASCO seven five, will turn at my discretion.” Then, because there’s no need to blame him for Jo’s departure and it’s always nice to be on good terms with ATC, “See you on Thursday.”

“Safe travels,” he responds and you swear you hear a hint of a smile.

“Sandspit Tower,” you scold, already starting to laugh at your own joke, “do I need to remind you of protocol?”

#Chris Evans x reader #Chris Evans fanfic #Chris Evans Imagine #Harley Sunday x Chris Evans #Chris Evans

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bladekindeyewear · 4 years

Text

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2020-05-19

Figured an upd8 was coming, it’s felt like enough time has passed for one.

Huh, looking at my last post I’d completely forgotten I was supposed to play through Pesterquest sometime... work is busy and stressing me out a bit, I’m not sure when I’ll have the energy on the side to do that. (Maybe I’ll livetweet it like I did Undertale a while ago, but this time not looking at my twitter replies so I don’t get spoiled by One Guy™?)

Also, including bonus commentary on A Threat Sensed.

Okay, going in completely blind. I’d guessed from context that we’re hopping over to Meat side to get a chapter there before we can come back to actually see Yiffy?

Yep. Okay, what is this about exactly?

(Agh, dammit, I’ve been copying and pasting so much at work remoting into Windows lately that now I’m automatically trying to hit control-C instead of command-C to copy.)

> CHAPTER 9. How Goes The Eulogizing, Dear?

CONTENT NOTE: This chapter contains Child Abuse.

Which one???

Wait

JANE: (Where is he?) JANE: (It's a question I've found myself asking many times in recent days.)

Holy SHIT we get two Candy chapters in a row??? So we might see her right away?? No, it’s gotta just be another tiny glimpse.

(Has two Candy chapters in a row happened before? Future Boots, scroll back up and put this here. FUTURE BOOTS: “I forgot to scroll back up and put that here.” EDIT: Also, not the first time with two in a row, but it IS the first time with THREE in a row, huh.)

So Jane has to be talking about either Tavros or Dave. --Oh, if this was a Candy Side chapter title, I guess Rose or Jade is eulogizing Dave for John?

> (==>)

JANE: (Where now is our merry savior?) JANE: (Where is the horn that was honking?) JANE: (Where is the cape and the codpiece, and the...) JANE: (The...) JANE: (Oh, fiddlesticks.)

What? Is she reading a childrens’ book? --Oh. She’s eulogizing Gamzee. So that gives us a third option, where the rebellion crashes the funeral somehow, probably audiovisually rather than in person. (Which would make sense, given Candy practically began with Gamzee crashing Dirk’s funeral.)

> (==>)

Ah never mind, she’s still writing it.

That sure is a single button drama-remote that’s going to be pressed at some point. Oh, and who the fuck keeps a spork in a pen cup??? --No no, don’t say it’s one of those pens with a spork at the eraser end, either ready-made or rubber-banded to the side. That would make sense. You totally know it isn’t that and is just a spork.

JANE: (Okay, poetry is out.) JANE: (What else?) JANE: (Hrm...) JANE: (I've always been pretty good at crying on cue.) JANE: (Could I try staging an emotional breakdown?) JANE: (That could work; playing to people's humanity.)

Why were you crying in Jake’s arms about his death if you didn’t care that much? Did you just want him to hold you and kinda make him feel in on things again? Or did you just cry yourself out about him?

JANE: (Or whatever is the more inclusive term.)

I bet the rest of Earth C figured out a more inclusive term millenia ago FUCK I accidentally added millennia to my dictionary misspelled instead of correcting it hold on--

...There, killed the entry for it. ...Huh. Take a look at my Chrome dictionary’s custom-added words over the years, apparently:

Caliborn Eridan Kanaya Matriorb Meenah Tavros alchemiter dichotomic nephilim reblogged uncaptchalogues uncaptchaloguing

That’s fun.

Okay back to reading. Millennia. Phew! Where was I.

JANE: (One really good and calculated weep could do it, I think.) JANE: (But then there's the danger that I might get carried away and do it for real.) JANE: (And I can't risk that.)

So still feeling something, just too used to calculating over the past years.

JANE: (What can I say about him that will stir up their emotions?) JANE: (Do I mention the stuff about the milk?) JANE: (Think Crocker, think.)

WHY would you-- how much did Gamzee normalize adult breastfeeding?!

JAKE: Ahoy over there!

Not the best time.

(The thing with the divorce papers from the Epilogue and John implying he was planning with Jake to execute something that sounds like a divorce... is that going to be sprung here? Did her lawyers send the divorce papers way back when she was in a fit of pique, and he just had them available to sign now at the tactical moment? Or... let me pull the exact text...)

JOHN: now, harry anderson, i know that you and tavros haven't always gotten along. JOHN: but i am going to have to ask you to try and look out for him for the time being. JOHN: your uncle jake and i... well, i'll explain later. JOHN: let's just say that gamzee isn't the only family member jane is losing today.

(So is John going to submit the papers? Or did they already go through a while ago and default custody to John or something who’s going to adopt him too or some nonsense? And did he plan this out with Jake NOW, or a while ago, and if only a while ago, is Jake going to KNOW whatever John’s about to pull in that respect is about to happen??)

> (==>)

Butte

Janepalme

> (==>)

JAKE: Er... how goes the eulogizing, dear?

Gah. I completely forgot again that capitalized-first-letter chapter names don’t mean KANAYA is saying them. That probably makes a lot more sense out of my wondering about the chapter title earlier to those of you who didn’t realize I was making that mistake.

JANE: It turns out that it's mighty difficult to find touching things to say about a person, the relationship with whom was predicated on deep-seated mutual loathing.

Hah!

--A loathing you regarded as largely more important to you than Jake ever was, by the way. You asshole.

JANE: I imagine this is one of the reasons no funerary tradition was ever established on Alternia, besides the barbarism of their culture. DIRK: Jesus christ. JANE: Not only did a significant proportion of their interpersonality depend on romance in the form of hatred, but it was a society based on cruelty and violence. JANE: What reason could they have had to provide for the dead? JANE: What kind of last rites could they have even imagined?

I wondered for a moment why (bg!)Dirk of all people would react to a single line of her starting to bring up prejudices, but then I realized that (1) Brain Ghost Dirk is a little more Jakey, and (2) Dirk knew that more ranting would follow the first line.

JANE: I can't think of anything good to write about him because deep down, I hated his guts. JANE: But he was and is beloved of the multitude, so I have to think of something regardless. JAKE: Im not sure i understand. JANE: Don't worry your pretty little head about it. JANE: This is politics, Jakey. JANE: Lying through your two front teeth about people you hate is about as good a definition as it's possible to get. JANE: But, by gum, is it tiring work.

Mm. It’s a position Jane put herself in, but it’s still a legitimate position once you’re there.

JANE: The funeral is tomorrow, after all.

Got it.

DIRK: Dude, the bowl. JAKE: Hm? JAKE: Oh, right. JANE: What is it now, Jake. JAKE: I brought something for our guest as well. JANE: You mean the prisoner. JAKE: Y...es.

Wait, bowl?

Oh god damnit which of you had the idea to feed her with a DOG BOWL. Either of you could have thought of it, and either of you would be horrible for it.

> (==>)

Huh, that outfit on Yiffy looks familiar, like a reference to something. And a black tail? This definitely isn’t quite the look I was expecting from Jade Plus Rose, but I suppose the snazzy tie is a Roseish vibe. Also reminiscent of Jade’s old Dead Shuffle dress. Formal wear and soccer cleats??

JANE: She's over in the corner. JANE: Don't worry, she won't bite. JANE: I've seen to that already.

WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN. I don’t see anything over her mouth! Did she stick something in it, or drug her? File her fucking teeth???

I mean I did forget the Child Abuse trigger warning to be fair. Hoping whatever would be on her mouth is just not shown in-panel yet for stylistic reasons.

> (==>)

JAKE: Its only mac and cheese, sorry. JAKE: Its all I know how to make, haha. JAKE: ... JAKE: I um... hope you can safely partake of cheese? JAKE: ... JAKE: Well, JAKE: Bon appetit.

How the fuck did Jake eat on his island then? --Oh right, preserved food cans that Grandma Jade stored up, I think I remember. Why would cheese not be a thing for them, if it’s fine for Jade? I know he’s probably not just worried about lactose intolerance.

Either way, if she’s drugged here, that’ll mean we won’t get a good idea of her for a while, so which is it...

> (==>)

DIRK: Bon appetit. DIRK: Seriously dude? JAKE: (What? Did i pronounce it wrong?) DIRK: Jake. DIRK: You put the food in a fucking dog bowl. JAKE: (It was all there was, ok???) JAKE: (I feel awful enough as it is without you getting on my case about it.)

Ah, missed the bone pun. AND, yeah, Jake, you’re a fucking idiot, you could have put it in a cup or something.

JAKE: (So far ive yet to see anything come of that brilliant plan of yours.) JAKE: (Are you sure sending that message to the others was enough?)

Okay, so he IS coordinating this slightly.

> (==>)

Horrifying image to contemplate, eh Jane?

Or anger-inducing?

> (==>)

Seems about right!

> (==>)

Oh that’s a GREAT exasperated Jane face.

JANE: I hope you're not expecting dessert, young lady.

I like how Jane didn’t notice, comment on, or care about the bowl. How can you hate a kid so much??

> (==>)

Oh I know why I felt like I recognized the outfit style, it’s because it’s ANIME AS FUCK. Feels like some Persona 4 Arena nonsense, and I say that not having played any of those games or even remembering what they looked like. Also, white hair, black fur’d dog parts? Nice change of pace.

YIFFY: GRRRRRRRRR... JANE: Oh no you don't.

Red text? What color exactly... “#D00009”? Huh. That’s nowhere near Alt-Callie’s #FF0000, and darker than Dave’s #E00707. In fact, let me go back and check those spilled color pins the commentary pointed out from an update or two ago... no, the red pin is #E63225, closer to Dave’s color. (Also, is Yiffy blocking the doorway out? That’s a pretty slack chain then.)

Did Jane see to it that she wouldn’t bite with like, a water spray bottle?

(EDIT: Oh my FUCKING GOD, THAT's why it's #D00009...)

> (==>)

FUCK I didn’t notice the shock collar in the Yiffy image! FUCK YOU, Jane.

> (==>)

Keeping someone in line with collars, especially ones that punish whenever one strays out of line, has always been a decent way for her to mix in some Doomy control of others to show how she’s “grown” to balance her main role and her Tiara-controlled-like inverse for more power. Doom in part represents boundaries that you can’t cross without getting hurt or punished.

> (==>)

FUCK, those little buck teeth!? D’:

JANE: That's more like it.

She HAS to have more of a reason for hating her than hating her parents, right? Like, more than that and general racism applying to partdogfolk?

> (==>)

Hey fuck off with that!

> (==>)

This is a pretty cool ima-- are those piercings on her dog ear? I didn’t notice that in the first shot, neat.

JANE: You've been a thorn in my side ever since I agreed to enroll you at the academy, little madam. JANE: Back then, I was doing a favor for two old friends who made a disgusting mistake. JANE: I'm no longer going to play nice with you just because of your parents, however. JANE: That truce is over. JANE: Do I make myself understood?

What the fuck? WHY would you do that? Why does Jane run "Ms. Paint’s Home for Inconvenient Girls”? What did Yiffy do to piss her off so much there, how much trouble could she have caused?

I don’t know if she’s referring to the behind-Kanaya’s-back part as disgusting or she’s just being MORE racist.

> (==>)

JANE: We don't want you passing out during the ceremony, do we?

Oh, just showing the hostage off during the clown funeral, huh? Classy much?

> (==>)

JANE: Now, be a good hostage and get some rest, Yiffany dear. JANE: We've got a big day tomorrow.

For a politician, Jane’s not good at looking at herself in a mirror.

> (==>)

JANE: Night night. JANE: Hoo hoo.

> (Yiffy: Lights out.)

Huh, dream stuff is gonna be relevant out in Candy then? *click*

Okay, dark background all of a sudden. Properly dramatic? You even have to highlight the non-link “>” part of the Next link to see it.

> (==>)

-- thespiansGlamor [TG] began pestering adamantGriftress [AG] --

Well, I don’t know WHY it’s happening, but the white-backed pesterlog suddenly on the dark site framing is certainly evocative. Of like, a mood, or something.

TG: i thought he was pretty quiet down there. TG: we'll make a rebel of him yet! AG: Lol. AG: I think it's more that he can't sleep. AG: I know how he feels. TG: yeah. TG: today was a lot. AG: ... TG: do you wanna talk about it? AG: Ugh, not you as well.

It’s really jarring to transition between Homestuck’s “kids jarringly mentally resistant to freaking out about the end of the world” to HS^2′s more realistic “kids traumatized by their first firefight even though it was an overwhelming victory-escape”.

TG: but seriously, do you? AG: Not really. TG: not even about... you know? TG: her? AG: No. TG: ... are you sure? AG: A8solutely. AG: What are you, my moirail? AG: Just leave it, Harry. TG: ok.

Are they about to have an “I wonder what Yiffy’s like” talk?

> (==>)

Very similar Tav/Vrissy convo to the previous one.

GG: I havent ever shared a bedroom before,,, GG: Not even for a slumber party,,, AG: Tavvy, you are just a8out the saddest person I've ever met.

Well, we have an even better idea how horrible Jane can be with kids, now. From Nanna to THIS is quite jarring. I wonder how the double Nannasprites that must still be around here somewhere feel?

> (==>)

TG: nothing about my dad is cute. TG: what are you even saying. AG: Lmao. TG: seriously! TG: i think he has something against that word, even. he gets super weird about it. AG: He's a strange and funny m8n. TG: yeah. TG: ... TG: i think something bad must have happened.

...um. What? Why would John have some sort of trauma about the word cute or being called it?

Did John dress up as a hint of his buried June ambitions as a kid and Dad lavish him with “SO CUTE” praise in an epic supportiveness backfire that caused him to shelve the idea of wearing non-masc clothes and being happier on the flipside of gender ever again??? Because if that’s how June gets canonized as promised, it’s a little harsher than the back of my mind was hoping. I guess it kind of had to be though from the premise of how it was read into his childhood for the original idea, though. Fuck, I hope this Cute business is about something different from that (like a Terezi reference or such) just to get less John Sads. (But still June. Definitely still want to get June.)

> (==>)

Oh, and now Vrissy is doing nothing but talking about what she said she didn’t want to talk about, of course. (Also I like how JANE’s now being called the Batterwitch.)

AG: And the worst part was they didn't even fight a8out it! AG: That made me madder than 8nything else. AG: It felt like I was the only person who even W8S mad! GG: I dont think thats true,,, AG: What would you know a8out it?! GG: Maybe nothing,,, GG: Sorry,,, GG: Its just,,, GG: To me,,, all the way through the conversation,,, aunt kanaya looked even angrier than you,,, AG: ... AG: Adults are so fucking weird.

Guh, I don’t want to be reminded how hurt a good chunk of the fanbase is by Kanaya getting hurt this badly.

Original Tavros was always SLIGHTLY perceptive of others sometimes, but maybe perceptiveness is being hinted at as a Tavros specialty? We still don’t know his classpect/hero-title or have any firm guesses based on purely him evidence. (Also, frightened kids of abusive households tend to learn to get perceptive pretty fucking quickly I hear.)

> (==>)

TG: dad was sitting in the cafeteria with aunt jade and your moms. TG: it looked like they were discussing something important... they were whispering and stuff.

[etc etc] Alright, the what-happened-to-Dave bit. And I imagine they’re kind of helping John grieve there, since Rose and Jade have talked that out already.

TG: aunt kanaya's was the only face i could see. TG: she was standing next to them, but she wasn't looking at what was going on. TG: almost like she couldn't bear to. AG: I doubt it. Kanaya's got a8out as much Emotivity as a very reclusive stone. TG: ok, i think that is bullshit but whatever. TG: she saw me standing there, but didn't say anything. she just shook her head slightly, and pointed back out into the hallway i came down.

Yep, giving them some space to grieve. Also-- gosh, shouldn’t Vrissy have the same emotive senses that Aranea implied Vriska shared with her? Kanaya isn’t that EXPRESSIVE but she’s certainly full of emotion. Also, I hope part of her not bearing to watch wasn’t lingering anger toward Jade and Rose mixing with that, but there probably was a bit of that too, though Dave being gone is so much harsher than that. --I just realized they might not have broken the news to Karkat yet, either.

AG: I guesadxcxzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz TG: vrissy?

Put to sleep by someone slumping down on your phone keypad, or surprised by something about the other conversation?

Oh shit, “other conversation” reminded me I didn’t look at Tavros’s chumhandle:

glutinousGymnast [GG]

HHHHHhhhhuh. Hm... huh? hhhh. huh? what, but. Why would. ?????

I really don’t understand what that chumhandle or any of its entendres should signify in this context.

Also, this means for our new four kids we have TG, GG, AG, and ??.

> (==>)

GG: I think she might have succumbed to sleep quite suddenly,,, GG: It would explain the,,,,,, interesting messages I've been getting for a while,,, TG: hehe. TG: i guess that tracks. TG: she does that from time to time.

That’s... strange. Homestuck’s taught us to be suspicious of that.

TG: ... TG: tav? GG: Yes,,, harry anderson,,,? TG: what does it feel like to know someone who's died?

Who is Harry referring to? (EDIT: Yes I know Gamzee for Tavros, but I meant Harry talks like he's worried he'll have to feel that way soon?) Is he just kind of inferring that something bad might have happened to Uncle Dave? Got that perceptive “parents are about to tell me about a death in the family” vibe? Or did he overhear more than he let on to Vrissy?

...alright, that’s the last page of this update. Looks like this chapter is going to continue to have a good bunch of grieving, or talk around it.

---

Now for Bonus Commentary for A Threat, Sensed. For some reason I have a dim memory of like... reading this myself without commenting on it? Or skimming it? But I’m pretty sure I didn’t do that. Weird. Must have imagined doing it.

Ah, I think I saw the opening paragraph scrolling Patreon, and my mind kinda filled in the blanks, this is still looking new to me.

Okay, mostly banter and japes in the commentary here. About Dirk “throwing a huge tantrum in his philosophy cave”.

We’ve had quite a bit of speculation on whether this is “really” Andrew. To that, I think we’d say that it doesn’t “really” matter.

Really? That was speculated about? :/

Here we discover that Dirk has not, as some people have speculated, been directly intervening into the Candy timeline, or influencing it in any way. In fact, he has a very hard time seeing anything going on there at all.

Mhmm, and that was a pretty important thing to learn.

A couple of years ago I might have agreed with the take that everything happening in Candy is simply too outlandish to ever happen naturally, without direct, villainous interference, but that was before literally every fucking batshit insane thing that has happened on Real Life Earth started going down, and now I will believe literally anything.

This is a nice bit of distraction from the idea that at least the opening parts of the Candy story were written/narrated by Original, Alive Calliope over on meat side. To refresh your memory of what was pointed out to me:

ROXY: back when jade first got all effed up callie saw somethin and it made them freak out ROXY: it took me weeks to convince them that it was safe to come home ROXY: but now we got the opposite problem and they arent leavin the house at all ROXY: they stay home all day with the blinds drawn paintin some weird ass shit on the walls TEREZI: WH4T? ROXY: its not as bad as it sounds i promise ROXY: some of it is like ROXY: weird and violent?? ROXY: like lotsa nasty purple blood and um ROXY: nudity???? TEREZI: >:? ROXY: yeah yikes ROXY: but MOST of it is cute stuff like... various combos of all of us being happy and gettin married and shit ROXY: anyway thats kept callie kinda busy

Which tracks with the initial out-of-character-seemingness of almost everyone at the start of Candy, and how they kind of tried to railroad things back onto the “Happy??” track after Dirk derailed it with his weird self-accumulation suicide, along with some of the flowery-idyllic descriptions of characters seeing each other bathed in a halo of light and such.

Of course, they’re not going to out-and-out STATE that Calliope was at fault for that narration, helping the Candy story not necessarily fall out the way it did “naturally”, until we finally get a glimpse of her on the heroes’ ship in Meat probably still painting the continuing Candy events, inspiring them into the void of the singularity with her latent powers. Til then, it’s a bit of misdirection whenever the topic is to be brought up. Along with a mix of Roxy’s late-Candy point to John of more or less “why COULDN’T we have done this naturally? you don’t know”.

He might even think that he has more direct power over the narrative than Hussie does himself. Surprise, motherfucker, you are a fictional character.

I’ll quote this next part in full:

There’s been talk of whether or not this bonus was written in the two days between its release and the Yiffy reveal chapter. The answer is--no. It was written over a month ago. But I think the things it addresses were not difficult to suss out. Obviously, Dirk is highlighting the issues that the readership are having with Yiffy, in his typical Dirk fashion. If it seems a little defensive, well...I suppose it is. Yiffy is one of the two hard lines drawn in the sand, and all of us love her, and we’re hoping that everyone else will love her too. But more than that, it focuses on the fact that update culture has a rhythm to it--shock, revulsion, acceptance (or not), and then excitement (or not). Will it follow that pattern this time? Who knows. I guess we’ll find out.

Yeah, given what was going to be dropped on us I expected they would have had exactly this lined up, especially because Andrew specifically mandated Yiffy. --I wonder why they aren’t mentioning that somewhere in the commentary and only on one of their Twitters?

Also quoting this:

There’s something both incredibly “cringe” and self-indulgent, as well as philosophically intriguing, about the author arguing with his villain, especially since he’s writing both halves of the conversation himself. You are, for all intents and purposes, trying to solve a problem that you have created for yourself. You are looking an aspect of your personality in the eye and asking, hey, what the fuck, man?

But in the end, isn’t that what every story is? Trying to untie knots that you put in the rope yourself?

Since it’s part of the central struggle of this story, and kind of the question Andrew’s tried to imply with every Homestuck work about what right we have to keep these characters trapped in a story, and if they’d be better off escaping it.

I’m really trying to avoid quoting so much of this, since the commentary is paid... but I think we can make an exception here? I’ll have only quoted about half of it; just, the really plot-important half. Plus, I left out a LOOOT of japes.

Dirk has a certain idea of how stories are supposed to go. That’s pretty much what the Epilogues is about. The audience also has a certain expectation of how a story is supposed to go. In a way, the Epilogues were also about that. They were taking a story that had reached the traditionally “acceptable” happily ever after, and saying, wait, no. What happens next? Thinking past happily ever after in any story is a terrifying prospect. Once Cinderella marries the prince, what then? Sure, she got what she wanted, but who knows that it will be everything she dreamt it would? What if she changes her mind, if not today, what about ten years from now? What if the prince dies of malaria?

And I’m...

Yeah I don’t have anything else to add here, I’m kind of out of brain juice to think about this tonight. BUSY day I had. Y’all take care!

#Homestuck #hs2 #Homestuck Liveblog #upd8 #Homestuck^2 #bladekindeyewear #blastyoboots #spoiler #spoilers #Homestuck Commentary

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gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 4 years

Link

Rating: T

Chapter Summary: Chat Noir brings up some renovations the base could use. Also, he and Ladybug flirt decide to study together.

Word Count: 2065 | Chapter 2/?

XXX

It was almost funny—in a twisted sort of way—how she could go from fighting for her life to panicking about her grades.

Today’s akuma had struck while she was supposed to be studying for her first physics exam. Even with Rena Rouge and Carapace providing backup, the fight through Lord Labyrinth’s twisting maze had taken three hours.

And, to top it off, she was stranded on the opposite side of the city.

“I’m sorry, Marinette,” Tikki said, curled up into a ball in her palms. “You’re sure you don’t have even a crumb left?”

She patted her empty pockets. “Nothing.”

Tikki had already eaten her five backup macarons, two emergency protein bars, and even a crepe she’d snagged with the last of her change. She couldn’t afford much more on a university budget. Tikki didn’t always need to recharge after using Lucky Charm anymore, but she also couldn’t go on forever.

“The hideout is closer than your school, right? We could stop there, then I can transform you and get you home.”

“Good idea, Tikki.” Marinette pressed a quick kiss to her head before slipping her into her backpack, which had reappeared once she’d detransformed. The heavy weight of her laptop and notebook pulling on her shoulders only added to her exhaustion.

“There’s a good entrance the next street over…”

Soon enough she was dropping down into the damp sewer. In comic books, didn’t the heroes have cool hideouts? But she couldn’t complain. Chat may have been the one to suggest the location, but she’d agreed that it was the safest bet. At least it would be a place she could rest for a minute.

The secret base was disguised from the outside, thanks to Rena Rouge’s new long-lasting illusion. Marinette could only spot the door by looking for a specific pattern in the wall—four slightly shimmery bricks at about eye level. She still patted the wall in three different places before brushing the secret handle.

“Finally,” she breathed, fumbling for the padlock. Once she pulled it just out of the illusion’s range, she could enter the password. Four letters, one on each dial.

HOME. She’d thought it was too obvious, but Chat Noir had teared up once he’d seen the lock’s default password, and she couldn’t bring herself to change it.

With the lock still in hand, she stepped into the room—

—Only to hear someone yelp and fall off the couch.

“Who is it? Who’s there?” Chat Noir’s voice rang out.

Marinette nearly jumped back and slammed the door. But thankfully, Chat’s hand was covering his eyes.

His ungloved hand. Thankfully, he’d at least had the sense to cover his miraculous with some kind of… hair scrunchie? Oh well, whatever worked.

“Don’t look!” She said redundantly. If he’d gotten a glimpse of her, it was already too late.

“I won’t, I pawmise.”

She took her fake mask from its hook and slipped it over her face. Then she shoved her backpack and shoes into the cabinet labeled LADYBUG, exchanging them for a long green hoodie that was too big to wear in public. Thankfully it was cool down in the sewers, even during the late summer.

The wooden cabinet door hadn’t been the product of a Lucky Charm, and it hung at a lopsided angle when she shut it.

“Alright.” She sighed. “You can look now.”

Chat Noir dropped his arm and stood, his eyes widening beneath the fabric mask as he took her in.

Strangely, she wanted to squirm under his gaze. It wasn’t like she looked that different outside of her suit, and the fake mask would still hide her identity. But Chat’s eyes… the black fabric didn’t change his scleras, and she found herself transfixed by the new shade of spring green. She hadn’t seen him like this since they’d swapped miraculouses while fighting against Reflekta and Reflekdoll.

“What? Hotter than you expected?” He grinned, flexing his arm under his Ladybug-themed hoodie. At least he’d been smart enough to bring an outfit change too.

“Trying to win me over by buying my merch now?” She raised an eyebrow. Pretty eyes or not, he was still Chat Noir. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of getting flustered.

“No, I’m trying to win you over by being pawsomely charming. This,” he tugged at the hem of his hoodie, “is just because I have taste.”

“I guess I can’t fault you there.” She stepped over to him and straightened the drawstrings hanging from his hood. It was still weird, seeing him in normal clothes, being forced to confront the fact that Chat Noir was a regular university student, just like her. She knew that, of course, but with his over-the-top puns and flirting, it sometimes felt like he belonged in a comic book.

“We need a doorbell. You could’ve seen me before I had the chance to put on my mask.” She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of that sooner. She’d assumed heroes would stop here individually, or arrive transformed. It wasn’t like her to miss such an obvious problem; the stress of classes must be getting to her.

“You could’ve just knocked, you know.” He smirked.

“...I didn’t expect anyone to be here,” she admitted, face heating. “The lock was still on. How did you even get in?”

“I had Plagg put it back on just in case I ended up taking a catnap. But don’t worry about it, bugaboo. We’ll both be more prepared next time.”

His smile hit differently outside of his transformation. Stupidly, she found herself just staring into his eyes again.

“Great, now we’re going to have to watch the lovebirds in person.” Plagg gagged from his spot on the counter. It didn’t stop him from swallowing a wedge of cheese immediately after, though.

“And I’m going to have to smell you in person,” Tikki said, waving her arm in front of her face.

“We’re in a sewer! How much stinkier can it get?”

Marinette laughed. It wasn’t often she got to see Plagg, much less him and Tikki together.

“When it comes to month-old camembert, it can always get stinkier,” Chat said. “Trust me.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Marinette didn’t have a very good sense of smell, anyway. That was convenient when your secret base was located in the sewers.

“I think we’ll be fine coming here without our suits as long as everyone knocks first,” Chat said, plopping back down on the couch. “We’ve already got changes of clothes that won’t identify us. Rena and Carapace dropped theirs off when they were adding their improvements yesterday.”

“Improvements?” Marinette raised an eyebrow, not that he could see under her mask.

“I told them it would be okay; I didn’t think you’d mind. Carapace just thought it would be smart to put a Shellter around the Miracle Box. The kwamis can phase through it with their miraculouses, but no one can reach inside to steal them.”

She stepped up to the entertainment center and opened the cabinet with the miracle box. Sure enough, there was a glowing green barrier around the red egg.

“That’s a good idea, but… what if the kwamis don’t know they’re needed? They can’t hear us when they’re inside their magical world.”

Chat’s face fell. It was weird, not seeing his ears and tail droop, but the rest of his body language was still so expressive.

“I didn’t think of that.”

“It’s okay.” She stepped over and put a hand on his shoulder. “It really was a good idea. You didn’t know.”

Master Fu had given her more training on being the Guardian than he had Chat Noir. All the Master said on the matter was that Chat’s schedule wouldn’t allow it.

He nodded. “I’ll have him take it down next time I see him.”

Maybe they could still use Shellter in other ways; she’d have to think about that. If only all four of them could control the shield. That would make an excellent way to protect the base.

“You said Rena made some changes too?”

“Oh, right!” He sprung up again, then vaulted over the back of the couch to reach the kitchen. Apparently he was athletic even without the suit. “She brought some cooking supplies. Also, she was asking if we had any plans to add a bathroom.”

“A bathroom? This isn’t a hotel.” Marinette rubbed her temples. She wasn’t a plumber. She couldn’t just Lucky Charm up a functioning toilet.

Plagg let out a loud burp. “She’s right. Who needs a fancy kitchen or a bathroom when you’ve got a fridge full of cheese?”

Chat glared at him. “Some of us aren’t magical kwamis who never need to pee.”

“That’s what the sewer’s for, isn’t it?”

“Not that kind of sewer!” He smacked his forehead.

Marinette was doing her best not to burst out laughing. Chat Noir might wear the clown suit, but Plagg was the clown suit.

“I’ll see if I can come up with anything,” she assured him. Having a bathroom down here would be nice, though she didn’t know how to pull that off yet. There was a locker room for sanitation employees that they could probably use, but it would be risky, whether they went suited up or not.

This was supposed to be just a simple meeting place. She should’ve known that doing anything with Chat Noir couldn’t be simple.

Maybe we should’ve gone with his first idea of renting an apartment, she thought as she poured herself a glass of milk. It looked like Alya had brought disposable cups along with the griddle, spatulas, and utensils strewn on the counter. She really should try Lucky Charming up some drawers. Or at least break out the dragon miraculous and cut a few more cabinets into the rock.

“So what brings you here, anyway?” Chat asked while lounging against the counter. “Hoping you’d run into a handsome black cat?”

He slicked his hair back in a way he probably thought was suave. Instead he just ended up skewing his mask, and he blinked in surprise. Or maybe winked. It was hard to tell with the fabric covering up one of his eyes.

“Tikki needed a break before heading home. You saw how many Lucky Charms I used today.” She held out her cup, letting Tikki dunk her cookie in it before she took another sip.

“You were amazing. Building a trebuchet out of the pieces it gave you? Genius.”

She punched him lightly. “Flatterer.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true, my lady.” He winked.

Stop that, she told her heart when it picked up its pace. It didn’t listen, especially when he leaned in towards her.

It’s those stupid eyes. Those stupid, gorgeous eyes.

“I still can’t believe you launched my staff at just the right angle to hit the akumatized object over the wall. You wouldn’t happen to be a physics major, would you?”

“A what?” She blinked before his words actually sunk in. Then she nearly dropped her cup of milk on the counter. “Oh no! The physics exam!”

“...So that’s a yes?”

“No.” Her face flopped on the stone counter. Ow. “I’m terrible at physics. I just have to take the intro class, and I was supposed to study for the test today, but then Lord Labyrinth took forever and,” she took a deep breath, “I just really don’t want to.”

She’d never procrastinated in her life. Well, not on purpose, anyway. She just had too much to do to afford it.

“Even superheroes need breaks, you know.” He rubbed her shoulder, his touch gentle without his claws. “But if you do want to study… could I help you? I’ve took a few physics classes last year. They were a-mass-ing.”

“Really?” They didn’t talk much about their school lives—mostly for identity reasons, but also because they usually didn’t have the time. She never would’ve picked him out as a science guy. Theatre, maybe.

“Yeah. You could say I had a lot of potential.”

She groaned. “Oh no. I can’t take cat puns and science puns. If you keep this up, I’ll just take my chances with failing.”

“What? Do you think there’s too much friction between us?”

“Chat.” She glared on principle, even though she had to admit that one was almost funny.

“Alright, alright, I’m done.” He grinned. “Grab your notes and we can get started.”

#tali writes #ladynoir #home base #fic tag #if youre not following me on ao3 #just know that i posted this chapter weeks ago #there are like 5 chapters of this fic out already #i am slow at crossposting to tumblr

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hailcyeon · 4 years

Text

hiraeth | 08

When your cousin the Crown Prince calls in on a decade-old debt, you have no choice but to answer. You’re rewarded for your troubles with your nightmares finding new life, danger around every corner, and a fiendishly irritating bodyguard. As each new discovery unearths more secrets, you learn the true costs of your homecoming.

⇾ Pairing: Lee Jaehwan x Reader ⇾ Genre: Sci-Fi, Royal AU, Bodyguard AU ⇾ Word Count: 4.5k ⇾ Warnings: Mild swearing, descriptions of anxiety

He bores into your eyes with his gaze, and you think Hakyeon has more of his father in him than you remember.

The next morning finds you in yet another unfamiliar apartment. Your legs are jelly descending the stairs, and the three-inch heels on your feet aren't helping. There's a railroad spike through your brain in the form of a migraine, all the while you fight the urge to rub your eyes so you don't ruin Sora's hard work. Hakyeon is already downstairs, dressed impeccably as ever in a navy suit. He adjusts his cuffs, looking up with a frown as he takes in your stiff expression.

"Are you feeling okay? I told you to eat breakfast."

The click of your heels on the tiled floor— somehow even shinier than the one in Hakyeon's other apartment — rings out loudly as you walk over. "Hakyeon, I will throw up on this very expensive dress if you make me eat."

He purses his lips and gives you a disapproving look. "Forgive me for thinking you need a little nutrition beyond caffeine and painkillers." He runs his gaze up and down your form, inspecting Sora's work as his eyes look for even a single thread out of place.

"The third-degree is a little creepy, Hakyeon," you say in response, irritated and tired. You were dragged to this decoy apartment at an ungodly time to meet Sora. Two hours of hair, makeup, and wardrobe later, you still don't feel ready to face the public, let alone the King. You rub your temple gently as if to massage out your headache. The coffee and aspirin you'd downed first thing in the morning have not only done little to help, but also seem to have turned your stomach to molten lava.

Hakyeon has the grace to look contrite as he brushes invisible dust off your shoulder. "I hope you don't expect to speak to my father that way." There are no wrinkles or excessive folds to be found, as your new clothes have been tailored just for you, but he straightens out the sleeves anyway. You take this with all the patience of a doll, resigning yourself to only internal screaming.

"She looks fine, I did a great job," Sora says as she hauls the last of the makeup cases down the stairs. “The King isn’t going to be fixated over her outfit anyway.” She'd instructed you to bring a few of the items you bought yesterday, and had arrived this morning with her own personal trove of beauty tools. Armored in a smart blazer and a dress cut just on the edgier side of conservative, your polished attire belies the true discomfort you feel.

"I intend to speak as little as possible, actually." You swallow down the burn in your esophagus and fiddle with your sleeves as Hakyeon steps back for one last look over, making you feel very self-conscious. “I’m not good at your type of political subterfuge, you know that.”

Hakyeon nods and checks his watch. "That's probably for the best. I’ve done what I can to take the situation out of his hands." You wonder what he means by that, but no explanation comes. “Still, you must be rock-solid in your defense. Why are you here, Princess of Asadal?” He bores into your eyes with his gaze, and you think Hakyeon has more of his father in him than you remember.

“To serve the King,” you answer mechanically. Your voice is less steel and more soft than you’d like, but you force your shoulders back and face your cousin, unwavering.

Hakyeon nods again, a quick decline of his chin, and turns to the door. “Then it’s time that we left.”

The elevator ride down is too quick for your liking, and before you know it you’re standing in front of a sleek, black limo adorned with the flag of Asadal. Jaehwan, your ever-present shadow, is leaning up against the idling car, hands in pockets and looking more formal than ever in his own dark suit. Sora turns around, carefully balancing the various makeup boxes she has, and takes your hand in hers. “I have to run to a photoshoot this afternoon, but I’ll be in touch. You’re gonna kill it, don’t worry,” she says with a last squeeze of your hand.

“I’d prefer to get this over with as little violence as possible actually.” Your retort is clipped with a stiff smile.

Sora leaves, and so does your general sense of bravado. If the events of the past few days have felt strange to you so far, this situation feels positively surreal as Jaehwan opens the door to the limousine for you and Hakyeon to slide in. You're sitting sandwiched between your cousin the prince and a man you hardly know, dressed to the nines in clothes so expensive they could pay a year's rent for your apartment back home.

“This is rather ostentatious,” you mutter quietly, moving your gaze around the luxurious interior.

Hakyeon shifts over to the opposite seats to give you some more room. “The aide insisted. Our entrance won’t be subtle, to say the least.”

This is not the most comforting thing to say, as your jaw clenches once more in anticipation. Jaehwan spares you a side glance, cool as the early morning air outside in his dark suit and upswept hair.

“All right, Princess?” Jaehwan’s tone is neutral, the ubiquitous smile playing in one corner of his mouth. It only serves to irritate you further. You compulsively smooth out your dress and aim for a measured response.

“I’m excellent.” The hem of your dress has ridden up to mid-thigh over your dark tights, and though the exquisite tailoring means there’s nary a stray thread, your fingers keep rubbing the stitching. “No sleep, murderous uncle, not a problem. I am a-ok.”

Not quite.

Hakyeon places a hand over your clenched fist. Whether it's meant to be soothing or a warning, you're not sure. Nevertheless, you force yourself to take a deep breath. Your nerves are already frayed, but you can't afford to fall apart just yet. Not yet.

The ride to the king’s tower is spent in terse silence. You have been to the Assembly House over which the new administrative building was built, but so much of the city is unfamiliar to you that it may as well be an unknown route. Hakyeon's apartment is located in what seems to be a luxury residential area of the Capital, you realize, as you pass high-rise after high-rise, gleaming in the morning sun. These neighborhoods are separated from the business and administrative sectors by the Yuseong River.

The trip over the bridge does your nerves no favors. The limousine is insulated to all outside noises, but the rush of the river below sounds through your memories regardless. The western banks of the river are dotted with construction projects, workers already scrambling around the sites. It’s clear to you that these new buildings are meant to serve your uncle’s pet councilmen and others on the higher rungs of society, given how far they are from the cheaper parts of the city. Unable to sleep in your anxiety, you had done a little research on the state of the city nowadays. Street names and neighborhood designations can only tell you so much, but a quick glance at the housing markets clearly delineates the various strata of society in the Capital.

More interesting is the King's official seat as it draws nearer. In the dark of night when you first saw it, the tower looked like a single dark obelisk thrust up into the sky. Upon closer look now you can see it is actually three different towers circling each other and connected at the base, forming an elongated trident. The Assembly House had never been your favorite piece of architecture, with its dusty corners and old-fashioned facade, but you quite miss it in the face of the tower’s imposing presence.

The streets leading up to the building are lined with trees and fountains and more people than you think should be the case for an otherwise innocuous weekday. The gentle trickle of people escalates and promptly explodes into a thronging mass spilling off the sidewalks as the limousine reaches a stone slab etched with a very generic-sounding “Administration Headquarters” in gold. Your eyes widen at the crowds held at bay by metal dividers to create a path for the car. Had the citizens decided to protest after all?

You purse your lips and swallow thickly at the sight of several news vans and a thicket of flashing cameras. The crowd, initially standing around idly, is spurred into action at the arrival of the limousine, pushing against the barriers and craning over others to catch a better look. You don’t know what to make of the clamor, and Hakyeon answers your unasked questions.

“The news of your return broke early this morning.” Hakyeon looks straight ahead, hands folded in his lap and voice betraying nothing. You know your cousin has many years of playing the imperious monarch on you, but in this moment you feel the gulf in experience particularly strongly.

“The paparazzi move quick,” you say tersely, trying to hide how much your breathing has quickened.

“The paparazzi had nothing to do with it,” interjects Jaehwan suddenly with a side glance toward Hakyeon.

You’re struck with a sudden sense of alarm as your eyes snap to your cousin’s. “Did you do something?”

“You were tailed yesterday.” Hakyeon’s face is stone, as impassive and unfeeling as yours is alarmed and shaken. “The King and his administration know of your presence, and it would only be a matter of time before the news spread. At least this way we can control the narrative.”

"Of course," you mutter. The anxiety is taking over your mind, so you default to anger. "Of course we were tailed."

“The King had a man following us around to every location we hit yesterday," Jaehwan adds unhelpfully. "He stopped sometime before we got back to the apartment, but it’s likely the King knows about that location anyway.”

“You were going to tell me this when, bodyguard?”

Jaehwan shrugs. “I’m telling you now.”

"This is nothing we hadn't already anticipated," Hakyeon hastily interjects before the two of you can start arguing.

In any case, you’re halted in your thoughts as the limousine passes through the official gates to the tower grounds, cutting off the bustling crowd from the kingdom’s highest administration. You catch a glimpse of a long set of marble steps before the view outside is swallowed by the walls of the tower. It’s hard to make out much beyond the dark tinted windows, so you settle for staring at the floor and counting your breaths. The ride continues steadily over the next few minutes, during which a stifling sort of silence has fallen over the three of you inside. The darkness of the tunnel you’ve entered is punctuated by the flash of guiding lights every few seconds, ramping up your already racing heartbeat.

“Don’t start hyperventilating now,” comes from your left in Jaehwan’s smooth tenor. You shoot him a glare, but the effect is rather diminished by the lack of light.

Hakyeon's voice is quiet and steady as he says, "We're in the VIP tunnel. Flattering as the name may be, we're really just going through high levels of security. There is no access to the King's office from the public entrance."

"What kind of security?" Somehow, focusing on the details helps you ground yourself to the moment.

You hear Hakyeon shift in his seat slightly. “The usual scans, identification, some biometrics. Only the security team knows the full details, but I’ve gone through the checks several times myself.”

You suck in a deep breath and force yourself to let it out slowly. The car continues on for a minute longer before coming slowly to a stop. The door to your right opens suddenly to a man bent over in a deep bow.

"Good morning, Your Highness. I trust your trip was comfortable?"

Hakyeon steps out smoothly, buttoning his suit jacket as he stands. “Thank you, Ryu. The car was most appreciated.”

The man then extends a gloved hand to help you out of the limousine. Jaehwan hops out the other side without a glance back, and you have no choice but to take the offered hand. Gingerly you step out onto the concrete floor, balanced by the aide’s arm. The light is dim in the underground VIP garage. You make out a fleet of dark limousines very similar to the one you just exited, all adorned with the navy and gold livery of Asadal, waiting in the surrounding spots. Large vents and cold fluorescent lights are built into the ceiling high above, providing a cavernous quality to the garage. Your feet are illuminated by lights built into the concrete platform spelling out “Council Chamber and Main Royal Entrance”, with a small bay of elevators laying just beyond.

“Welcome, Princess. It’s wonderful to have you back in the kingdom.” The aide’s ear-to-ear smile makes you think the sentiment is genuine, but you can only manage a small incline of your head in response. Hakyeon strides ahead to the central elevator, which opens at his approach without prompting. You follow along less confidently with the aide at your side, trailed by Jaehwan to your back.

The elevator is large enough that the three of you can stand without touching elbows, but you still feel suffocated by the gleaming metal walls and the presence of the government official. Bespectacled and clad in a dove gray suit, he’s hardly the most intimidating man, but you are ever wary of strangers. Hakyeon absentmindedly checks his watch again while the aide fills him in on the details of the meeting.

"The King is in with Magistrate Moon currently, but he's scheduled to be done by the time we clear processing. The princess's data shouldn't take long, but it's good to be thorough."

"What do you mean, my data?" you interject.

The aide starts as if he'd forgotten you could speak. "Oh, it's just simple protocol Your Highness—" He's cut off by a ding as the elevator opens to a brightly lit lobby.

Despite being such a high-profile area, the lobby itself is fairly sparse. Hakyeon shuffles you through past a set of cushy armchairs and a table, which honestly feel like a decoy more than anything, into a blank white hallway. At the end are several full-body scanners glowing a neon green. Hakyeon strides through them proudly without pause, and you have no choice but to follow. Despite having nothing on your person to cause suspicion, some irrational part of you blanches as you walk through the scanners. Thankfully, you walk out the other side with no incident.

You let out an unnecessarily-held breath and are immediately shuffled into a side room. There's not a lot to the space save for a few monitors and seemingly medical equipment. The sting of antiseptic tickles your nose and the extreme sterility in fluorescent lighting gives you an uneasy feeling. Confused, you look to Hakyeon for guidance, only to be met with the passively smiling face of Jaehwan. Hakyeon is instead just outside the door talking to a woman in a white lab coat. If he senses your eyes on him, he gives no indication. The woman, however, turns and flashes you a smile, striding into the room with clipboard in hand.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” she chirps with a quick bow in your general direction before shuffling off to some equipment on a far counter. You shift your feet nervously, glancing again at Hakyeon. He checks his watch again and joins you inside the room, leaving the aide outside.

“This won’t take very long at all, we have the entire process streamlined,” says the woman from the counter, pulling various equipment out of shelves and inspecting them. “My name is Dr. Yang, and I will be administering your locator chip today.”

“My locator chip?” The words come out shriller than you intend, and you see Hakyeon wince out of the corner of your eye.

"It's just for security purposes," he says quickly in a low voice. "It's necessary for being in the VIP parts of the building."

"It's very small," the doctor reassures. "You won't feel a thing!"

You swallow roughly and take a few steps back. "Hakyeon, could I speak to you for a moment?" You wait for him walk closer before mouthing, "What the fuck?"

He glances at Jaehwan, who has also joined your little enclave, and crosses his arms. "I know you don't like it, but there's no other way to speak with the King."

You snort. "I didn't want to meet with him in the first place if you remember."

Hakyeon purses his lips and exhales an impatient little sigh. "I know, and I know this whole thing is a mess. There are certain concessions that just have to be made. Security is tight around here; we all have a tracker to monitor our movement around the building." To make his point clearer, he extends his thumb. Jaehwan says nothing but absently scratches his left wrist.

"This is some insane surveillance state nonsense, Hakyeon," you hiss. You weren't expecting to just prance into the King's office, but the idea of having his influence literally implanted in you? Your skin is crawling without anything even having happened. It monitors your location at that? Not to mention what else could be in there that isn’t being disclosed to the public.

“Our last royal family died,” Jaehwan chimes in an almost singsong way. You meet his eyes with a glare that does nothing to budge the pleasant look on his face. “Counter measures had to be taken.”

Somehow Jaehwan’s stern look behind his sunny smile rattles you more than Hakyeon’s impatient pushing. You hold their gazes for a beat longer before looking down and swinging back around to the doctor. We’re not done talking about this, Hakyeon.

To her credit, Dr. Yang has maintained the utmost professionalism through your little meltdown. She stands next to a leather stool holding a tablet in one hand, patting the seat gently with the other. You stride over, head held high as you can, and sit down delicately. You can just touch the floor with your toes from this height, and you grip the edges of the seat with your hands, feeling as if on the precipice of something you can’t walk away from.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” starts Dr. Yang, handing you the tablet. “The chip is microscopic and is only inserted into the topmost layer of the epidermis, so you won’t even feel the insertion. The shallow location is so that the chip can be removed through your body’s natural shedding of its skin cells, meaning there’s no hassle to dig back in there when you’re done here.”

Pain is hardly the thing you’re worried about. You swipe down through the extensive legalese on the tablet, which seems to be a permission form of sorts. There is no option not to grant it. “What’s the purpose of this chip, just to monitor my location?” you ask while signing your name with the attached stylus.

The doctor nods. “It follows your presence through the building, and only within the building. There are additional forms to detail your identity and security clearance, but of course you don’t need any sort of verification on that front, Your Highness.” She ends her sentence with a tinkle of a laugh, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

You hand the tablet back, wishing you could examine the system yourself. Undoubtedly it’s a database keyed to the individual chips, but you wonder what tech they’re using to detect the trackers throughout the building. And how much interference they could handle before they fry. Dr. Yang returns, having deposited the tablet on the counter, with gloved hands and a metal pen.

“Now, as I said, the chip is inserted in the first layer of skin, for which we’ll need a particularly dense area so it stays put for the time being.” She tears open a packet of antiseptic and smiles. “If you’ll please extend your index finger?” You've got half a mind to offer her your middle finger instead, but you grit your teeth and uncurl your left index finger. A quick swipe of the alcohol-soaked wipe later, she presses the pen to your finger, cold and solid.

“Wait.” You take your finger back, clenching your hand into a fist. You look up, eyes darting to Hakyeon’s. Impassive as he is, you think you see some hint of guilt in his gaze, and dark circles under his own layers of concealer. Jaehwan, for his part, simply looks on boredly.

“Is something wrong?” Dr. Yang has taken a step back and is looking at you with concern.

You swallow, throat very dry all of a sudden, and shake your head. “No, it’s fine.” You extend your finger again, the nails of your other hand digging into your palm. “Go ahead.”

The doctor clicks her tongue and opens another packet of antiseptic. “You have no idea how many people come through here with a serious fear of needles,” she says, wiping down your finger again, even more gently than the last time. “All these big Councilmen, afraid of a little poke!” She chortles to herself and presses the pen down.

True to her words, you feel nothing.

You hop off the stool as soon as she pulls the pen away. The nausea from this morning has returned with a vengeance, which it tends to do when you indulge your anxiety rather than dissipating it. The doctor bows in goodbye and before you know it, you are ushered out the door by Hakyeon.

From there it’s a short walk to another bank of elevators. “That was very quick, wasn’t it?” starts the aide. “We’re a little ahead of schedule, so I thought perhaps we could show the Princess around the Council chambers and then—”

Hakyeon cuts him off abruptly. “Thank you Ryu, but that won’t be necessary. I think we can take it from here. Please send the alert upstairs to let them know we’re coming.”

The aide blinks. “The King is likely still in his meeting, Your Highness, if you’ll—”

Hakyeon halts his speech again with a swift raise of his hand. “I’m aware of the King’s schedule. Be on your way.”

The ease and confidence with which your cousin addresses the aide is weirdly comforting. Hakyeon is Crown Prince. Hakyeon can handle this. You are just playing a part, but Hakyeon, he's the real deal.

The aide makes a quick bow and disappears down a side hallway. Hakyeon wastes no time in calling down an elevator, and before long you’re ensconced in tense silence again. You feel eyes on you, but resolutely look forward. In the shiny metal of the elevator doors you see Hakyeon’s reflection turn to face you properly. “Doing ok?” You flick your gaze to him for but a second. Your jaw is starting to hurt from grinding your teeth so hard, and you keep compulsively rubbing your thumb against your other fingers. “I’m—” comes out in a rasp, your throat bone-dry. You swallow and try again. “I’m fine.” Hakyeon’s eyes don’t leave your face, and Jaehwan is now looking at you with an expression somewhere between curiosity and amusement. “I’m fine, it’s fine,” you reiterate, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. “It just—” you start, then stop. It just terrifies me. It just makes me want to rip off my own skin. “It got too real,” you say quietly. Jaehwan chuckles, a soft gust of air through his nostrils and the crinkling curl of one corner of his mouth.

Your glare at his reflection is cut short when the doors suddenly open to blinding light. This lobby is much busier than the last, with people scurrying to and fro, disappearing off into more elevators and hallways. As Hakyeon leads you into the mess, you notice several people stop right in their tracks and make very low but very quick bows in your general direction. You get a cursory glance out the glass walls to where the rest of the city sprawls before Hakyeon stops before what seems to be the main elevator, all chrome and gold leaf. A press of his palm to a nearby touchpad opens the doors to reveal elegant carpeting and crystal-studded walls. You roll your eyes at the predictable opulence.

Following Hakyeon into the elevator, you turn around only to find that Jaehwan hasn’t joined as usual. You blink. “Where are you going?” “Shh, secret mission,” he says in a hiss. The last thing you see before the doors close is Jaehwan’s grin with a finger pressed to his lips.

What secret mission? You feel the tug of gravity as the elevator glides upward and furrow your brows. “You put Jaehwan on some other task?”

Hakyeon rolls his eyes. “He’s being dramatic. He’s just gone to talk to some old friends at my suggestion.”

You’re well aware of who Jaehwan’s old friends are. “The Swords are loyal only to the King,” you say, on edge again at the remembrance of Jaehwan’s involvement in the special forces.

Hakyeon ignores your statement in favor of some last-minute pep talk. “I know you must be feeling apprehensive, but I have full trust in your ability to sway my father. I’m positive you can assure him you’re not a threat, and it won’t be hard, since you’ve been away for so long. You’re hardly a scheming politician after all, and—”

“I get it, Hakyeon.” You cut off his rambling, nerves raw and screaming. “Play nice, or die.” The elevator opens again to two guards — Swords, speak of the devil — and an otherwise empty hallway. They bow as Hakyeon exits, the barest hint of a frown on his face. You follow, trying your best to match his confident strides. Think simpering sycophant thoughts. Should you pretend to be happy to see your uncle? Grateful to be back in your— no, his kingdom?

The hallway turns a corner and leads to the most nondescript wooden doors you’ve ever seen. The double doors are handleless and flanked by four-foot tall ceramic vases holding each a cascade of orchids. You can’t see any physical indication as to the importance of these doors, but your heart pounds harder with every step forward. As if sensing your hesitation, Hakyeon stops just short and turns to you.

“I’m not going to lie and say this will be easy,” he starts. His gaze is too difficult to hold, so you turn your eyes to a blank spot on the wall just behind his ear. “But this has to be done, for better or worse. Are you ready?”

No, you think to yourself. In what world could you ever be ready to face the instigator of all your nightmares?

“Yes,” you say.

Hakyeon gives you a quick, terse nod and raises his hand. He raps his knuckles against the wood of the door twice, the beats ringing out in the quiet hallway.

#vixx #vixx fanfic #vixx fanfiction #vixx au #ken #vixx ken #lee jaehwan #cha hakyeon #idol x reader #ken x reader #kpop fanfic #vixx n #f: hiraeth #dear god i'm so sorry for the wait #it's been like a year #as always thank you for reading #feedback is appreciated #i swear the next one will be sooner #kpopwritingnet

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mostfreeee · 3 years

Text

ABOUT

Long as the voice inside me says go, I will always keep on running.

My Sonic is primarily games & IDW comics verse. But with some small divergents here and there.

Basics:

Name: Sonic the Hedgehog Age: Canonically 15, but my Sonic is defaulted to 19/20. ( varying greater depending on the verse ) Height: 3ft 2in / 98cm Weight: 77 lb / 35 kg

Synopsis: Sonic is an anthropomorphic hedgehog who can travel faster than the speed of sound. “Got to go fast” is basically his occupation, when he isn’t taking down robots created by an evil genius known as Eggman. He values freedom and nature, two things Eggman seems determined to oppress and destroy.

Generally a people person, Sonic cherishes his friends greatly and enjoys meeting new people. He even has a tendency to make nice with his foes, never one to let a bit of rivalry stop him from getting along with someone.

His carefree attitude can make it seem like he is irresponsible and reckless without ever thinking of the consequences. And while the reckless part is true often enough, he has a strong sense of justice and takes it upon himself to step up whenever the world needs saving.

Apperance:

I see my Sonic having quills on the shorter side, a bit like these (draw by Tyson Hesse)

As much as I adore the long quills that fall down behind him like in regular Modern Sonic designs, something about the shorter quills that spike more backwards than downwards fits so well.

Colour Hexes:

The blue fur: #0000e6

The peach fur: #eebc9d

His eyes: #0bda51

Personality:

Sonic is a pretty laid back guy, in his own way.

He loves to travel, going at incredibly fast speeds, but he also likes to relax and read or nap.

He's all about free will. He wants people to be able to choose what they want to do on their own. Though he knows some people just need a bit of encouragement too and that’s all fine.

He likes being optimistic

For the most part he isn’t necessarily oblivious, he knows all about the bad in the world, but he likes looking at the bright side.

He knows that life doesn’t always have a happy ending, but he is able to picture a better future and thus will always strive for it. Even if that means that he’ll end up severely disappointed at times, it’s better than living your whole life like nothing good will ever come.

He strongly believes in second, and even third, chances. If someone wants to change for the better, why not encourage them to?

Because of this he doesn’t hold grudges well — at least when it comes to himself. If you harmed a friend that’ll get you a bit more of a watchful eye, but ultimately Sonic believes that everyone can change.

(for better or for worse as seen in IDW comics)

He doesn’t have a house, but he definitely has a home.

For all his wanderlust, he’ll always make his way back to where his friends are settled at. Most commonly he’ll go to Tails first, and then take his time making rounds to see his friends again. He eventually gets restless if he doesn’t go out exploring or if there hasn’t been a battle or something to get rid of his excess energy. But he drops by often enough to still be a frequent face.

He loves company

Even if it means he needs to slow down, he’ll most often prefer having company than not. There is always time to squeeze in a run here and there, so he’ll never pass on a chance to hang out if someone is free.

It’s not like he’s clingly, he knows better than anyone that people have their own things to do. He’s perfectly fine being on his own for months on end, and there is usually enough things to distract him during that time. It’s just that if schedules happen to line up he’s definitely going to make the most of it.

If he ever does feel lonely

While rare, he’s first instinct is to go running and looking for a distraction. Because again, he knows people have their own things to do and he doesn’t want to be a bother of all things.

If that doesn’t work, he can usually wander by Tails’s workshop and settle in at a corner under the excuse of wanting a nap without worrying about the weather outside. He won’t bother his buddy, but the sounds of Tails tinkering helps ease the ache in his chest.

His impatience doesn’t come from moving slowly, it comes from not doing what needs to get done.

As stated above, he doesn’t mind slowing down his pace for other people. However, if there is something that needs to get done, whether urgent or not, he wants to get on with it so it’s complete.

He doesn’t like leaving tasks left unfinished because all it does is drag in the back of his mind. He rather be able to go out and have fun without worrying about something else.

If there is something that forces him to move slowly (so he isn’t slowing down by choice) then he does get very impatient very quickly.

He enjoys using corny jokes and inserting random humour whenever he can.

He’s perfectly aware that a lot of his jokes are cheesy, but having people groan in exasperation is just as good as having people laugh in response so!

Really no matter what you do you’ll end up encouraging him.

He’s no genius, he’ll leave that to Tails, but he does end up well enough read.

Though he does gravitate to adventure-type stories, he does like learning about the world and enjoys fun facts.

Often times though, if he falls asleep in the middle of reading a book he doesn’t bother to pick that book up again when he wakes, unless there was something really interesting about it. Even if the book wasn’t boring and he fell asleep due to going for days without rest, he just figures the time to read the book has passed and moves on to the next.

He loves nature

It’s part of why he likes to travel so much. There is always a new sight to see, and nature just never disappoints!

He likes finding all the places where nature is allowed to develop naturally without interference of settlements. When he does come across such a place, he does his best to not disrupt anything there. Which also means he doesn’t move too quickly just so he can be sure his speed doesn’t destroy anything.

He really enjoys naps!

He likes laying down on the grass and feeling the sun shine down on him most, but that comes with the risk of getting caught in the rain so he tries to do it only when there is little chance of rainfall. Otherwise he’ll find little nooks and crannies to settle down in to sleep.

He can’t swim, and he has mild aquaphobia.

He doesn’t mind being around water, like having fun at the beach is okay, but he absolutely hates being submerged in it. (waking up to a sudden downpour when he naps outside also gives him a scare, which is why he is careful before he falls asleep in the open)

If given enough warning, and for good enough reason, he will do his best to hold back his fear to get whatever business done, but you can bet that he’ll be having phantom shivers for a long time after.

He can’t hold his breath underwater for very long, not because he doesn’t have the lung capacity, but because he quickly gets so anxious that he just can’t hold it.

After being submerged in water (whether willingly or unwillingly) Sonic prefers being surrounded by something solid. It could be anything, even a big hug is very much welcomed, but more often than not he’ll find a hole at the side of a mountain and huddle himself in it. He already has a few go to places scattered around, because unfortunately he’s had plenty of experiences being submerged in water.

It doesn’t get any easier even after all this time.

He knows that he’s considered a hero by the mass majority, and he’s come to accept it.

A Hero was something he never wanted to be, though. He just wanted to save the distressed animals at first, and found himself speeding into something he can’t just back out of now.

Not that he would want to back out, per say. He’s incapable of not stepping in if he knows that he can do something to help. And he rather be the person to stop something bad from happening than to just leave it to someone else.

But because he has saved the world multiple times by now, and became (in)famous, he knows that “Hero” is a title he can’t run from anymore. No matter what he says or what he wants, people will call him as such, and with that comes all the responsibility and expectations that he never asked for. He’s more conscious of that than he’d like to admit.

He doesn't really mind it for the most part, though. More often than not it falls in line with what he wants anyways — to stop Eggman. And if people end up shocked because he doesn’t act the way they thought he would, well, that’s on them and with no consequence to him.

He doesn’t let that title dictate his actions, either. He’ll always do what he thinks is right first and foremost. Even if the world says one way is correct, if he believes otherwise he’s doing it his way. He’s not looking for random strangers approval, nor does he particularly want it.

But, because of the title of ‘Hero’ he knows that there are some assumptions made about him. He is acutely aware that a lot of people hold him to high regard, and look up to him. And as much as he likes to think that the title of ‘Hero’ doesn’t affect him, it did change him in some ways.

It’s mostly after being called a Hero that Sonic started putting up a front

It wasn’t a conscious decision or anything, but with so many people, children especially, looking up to him with shining eyes — he found that he wants to be someone they can rely on when they are in danger. Because he’s a caring guy, and small animals and children stir up a protective side of him.

Besides, he figured that he’ll always do what he can to stop Eggman as long as the madman was trying to take over the world, so what’s the harm in letting kids think of him as this big Hero and thus feeling safe with him around?

With that it was all too easy to slip into the persona that the public already created for him.

After all, that persona didn’t come out from nowhere. It was basically just an exaggeration of his already there carefree personality.

He’s generally good at understanding people, and he’ll use that to adapt himself into someone who is comforting for whoever needs it at the time. He genuinely likes being able to help people. And that’s why he’ll play into the whole Hero shtick to the extent he does.

He’d grin widely when he’s around the public, and play off any injury that he suffered. He’d pretend that he wasn’t exhausted after a grueling battle, and that nothing bothered him.

He doesn’t mind ‘breaking character’ if the public gets too much — again, he won’t sacrifice his principles just to live up to other people’s expectations. He’ll do what he believes to be right in the end, but the ‘cool guy who is unbothered by anything’ persona just became so incredibly easy to play.

It’s become a part of who he is, now. That facet of his personality is what he shows the most readily, hiding anything else behind it. He’s always been fond of inserting humour whenever he could to lighten up a situation and cheer someone up, but now he does it to distract people from noticing that anything is wrong. It’s become an unhealthy coping mechanism, but Sonic isn’t about to tell anyone that.

He’d gladly accept any physical help (like in battle), but emotional help is harder for him to welcome.

Again, it comes with the Hero persona he fell into. He’s gotten so used to pretending that nothing is wrong that he sometimes believes it himself that all is fine.

It’s been okay for the most part so far, (as ‘okay’ as emotional suppression can be). He got buy on being able to rewind after any big battle, being surrounded by his friends, and being able to have fun on his own terms.

However, with being captured for six months (Sonic Forces) and knowing deep down that the metal virus outbreak was his fault (IDW comics), it’s a lot harder for Sonic to trick himself into thinking everything is okay.

He’ll still do what he can to fool other people, though.

But, all that said and done, it isn’t like it’s ALL an act.

Down to the core, Sonic is still that fun loving guy. If you were to pull a Shadow and ask Sonic what he is now, he would still answer the same. That he’s ‘just a guy who loves adventure.’ Because it’s still true. He’s very good at living in the moment and making the most out of any situation. And at the end of the day, Sonic just does what he believes in and he has fun along the way.

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razzle-zazzle · 5 years

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Daemos Headcanons

Tumblr decided this shouldn’t show up in the tags so I’m reposting it:

As of the start of the series, Noi is 22; Asch, Ava, & Leif are all 24 or thereabouts; Pierce is 26; and Rhys is 27.

Asch can and will breathe fire if he feels the extra intimidation factor is required. His breath almost always smells like smoke. Sometimes Asch will just exhale a puff of smoke when he’s really annoyed, but not angry enough to exhale flames.

Asch has to eat at least a little bit of wood/charcoal/coal every day as a kind of dietary supplement. Because of this, it’s not uncommon to find him chewing on a twig he found in Leif’s garden, or adding a piece of coal to his already blackened meal, or turning logs into charcoal for later consumption. He’s constantly digging through Leif’s garden for surplus twigs and sticks and it annoys Leif to no end because “YOU’RE BURNING THE FLOWERS ASCH STOP I USE THOSE TO MAKE MEDICINE” or “EVERYTHING WAS IN ORDER AND NOW YOU’VE RUINED IT DAMMIT ASCH”. Asch comes back every few days just to annoy Leif this way, and because it’s a good way to replenish his stock.

Asch can actually eat a lot of things that the others wouldn’t think to eat. The general rule of thumb is that if it burns, Asch can probably eat it.

Asch prefers his meals as crispy as possible. If they’re not to his liking, he burns it himself. When it comes to cooking, he could be really good at it… if he didn’t forgo the entire “flavor” aspect in favor of burning everything to a crisp. He’s been banned from messing around in the kitchen after he set fire to a glass of water. He finds that he enjoys sitting next to the oven when it’s on, and Ava still allows him to do that as long as the oven is actually being used to cook something.

Asch can suffocate rather easily compared to the others (Leif notwithstanding). It’s why he passed out when they first arrived on Earth—his flame was snuffed out by an inability to breathe. But once he adjusts, he’s mostly fine. Mostly. Asch really does not like dirt (or water) for similar reasons.

Asch Does Not Get Emotions.

To elaborate, Asch has difficulty in expressing himself sometimes. He has to be a leader, and a proper leader makes effective decisions without getting caught up in their emotions; so whatever he’s feeling gets bottled up until it explodes into an outburst, usually anger. He’s like Bakugou, in the sense that he really doesn’t know how to express anything other than anger, frustration, or annoyance, and can come off as really bratty because of it. Fortunately, both Noi and Pierce have known Asch for long enough to pick up on what he’s actually feeling, and Rhys has played mediator and manipulator for Asch enough times that he can usually discern what Asch is trying to convey. And Leif is constantly trying to find ways to antagonize Asch both as revenge for messing with his garden and as a way of getting Asch to let loose on whatever he’s bottled up. Occasionally, this goes too far, but overall their rivalry is the perfect outlet for Asch (and Leif).

In short, Asch can give very effective orders, but struggles to express his own feelings when he needs to, or find a proper outlet that isn’t BURN IT ALL TO DEATH

Before the spa episode, none of the other Daemos thought that Asch could laugh, except Noi (who’s known Asch the longest for reasons I’ll get into eventually). Noi hasn’t heard Asch laugh in a very long time, so he finds it really gratifying to hear it again.

Asch is of the mind that courting is supposed to be proper, and romantic, and that s//ex is neither romantic nor a valid way to court someone, mostly because of his upbringing and inexperience with s//ex in general. I’ll leave whether he’s demi- or asexual or not up to you guys.

Asch originally only sought to court Ava because she’s a “princess” which to Asch means “oh hey someone I could court without everyone disapproving of me.” Except then Asch finds that he genuinely likes Ava (after a lot of confusion as to what is going on with him), and he suddenly doesn’t know how to approach anything anymore??? He has a miniature crisis that Pierce and Rhys have to talk him through, much to his chagrin.

Asch also doesn’t always notice the connotations of his words and actions; he’s just not as clued into double entendres and innuendos as most other people. Taking off his clothes in front of Ava? Never even occurs to him that that could come across as sexual. I know this doesn’t make sense given Asch’s focus on living up to expectations, but Asch doesn’t really focus on emotional expectations so it works. Furthermore, his fixation on living up to expectations stems from the vast number of times he’s failed to do so due to his stunted ability to pick up on social cues. He just wants to be a good leader and not disappoint his mother, is that really too much to ask?

Noi is often the one tasked with finding coal, as his earth affinity and superior sense of smell (best in the group) makes him the most efficient at searching for things underground. He’s also the best at digging, closely followed by Pierce.

Noi can eat dirt, as well as most rocks and minerals, but he doesn’t necessarily have to. He usually has a few rocks on him at all times so he has something to chew on when he’s stressed. His room is essentially a rock collection half-buried in the dirt.

Rhys trying to get Noi struck by lightning or electrocuted, repeatedly, just to find out what would happen. When it actually happens, Noi’s primary affinity for earth and his secondary affinity for lightning means he’s completely fine, if rather hyper for the next hour. I feel like Noi should be able to consume electricity, but I’m not sure how yet. Does he stick his tail in an outlet? Who knows? Not Noi, that’s for sure.

Noi’s tail is whip thin, with barb-like hair on the end. This is unusual for earth affinity Daemos, who either have stiffer, more solidly-built tails, but makes perfect sense given Noi’s secondary affinity for lightning. He’s also pretty fast on his feet and really good at flanking, not as much as Leif but he’s up there.

Noi giggles a lot when he’s happy, and, as he discovers after the dinner date, when he’s crushing. Noi is actually pretty good at expressing himself, much to the frustration of Asch.

Noi may not always look like it, but, much like the earth constantly shifts beneath the surface, Noi’s emotions and thoughts are constantly shifting. Rhys is similar, except for him it’s more akin to his thoughts constantly moving like ocean currents, his mind always flowing underneath even if the surface is calm. Pierce has the whole “calm-outside-always-shifting-inside” but turned up to eleven. He spends so much time trying to get a handle on what’s going on inside that he often comes across as unemotive, or doesn’t always emote properly. It’s why he likes fights so much; he can just relax, go on autopilot, and let his worries fade away as he lies in the moment. All three of them are very much prone to self-doubt and anxiety.

Noi is the Emotional Support Daemos™. Having Noi around makes Asch happier than he’d like to admit, Pierce likes that Noi is sweet (and Noi is often the one who grounds Pierce, pun intended). Rhys finds that answering Noi’s questions about what he’s doing and why he’s doing it to be relaxing, and Leif picks on Noi as an outlet for his aggression and energy. Without Noi, the group would all be at each others’ throats within days.

Pierce can also eat rocks/dirt/minerals, but he does it less often than Noi. If he’s feeling really peeved at something Asch has done, then he’ll crunch on some rocks because he knows that Asch finds the sound annoying. And it’s a good way to work out his frustrations without having to worry about hurting someone.

Pierce has the best sense of hearing in the group, with Leif coming in at a close second. Usually, earth affinity Daemos hear best through vibrations in the ground, similar to snakes, and Pierce is no exception; but he’s also very good at hearing the other way, like a bat. A batsnake. Snakebat? Snat? Bake? Eh, I’m sure something like that exists on Daemos. If not, then it should.

Pierce worries the most out of the group; it’s his job to protect Asch (and everyone else), and the constant shifting of his thoughts and feelings often makes for very reckless decisions. Whenever Asch feels Pierce is overdoing it, he’ll loudly complain about “not needing a nanny, I’m a grown-ass Daemos for Htrae’s sake, go do something else with you time” which in Asch-speak essentially translates to “take a day off before you kill yourself, idiot.” When this happens, Pierce usually spends time training (unless Asch tells him not to), hanging around Noi to feel grounded, or letting Rhys ramble about his theories to distract himself from his worries.

Pierce is the best cook of the group, though this is mostly by default. Asch burns everything, Noi either adds too much salt or too much sugar, Rhys doesn’t even cook, and Leif puts together the most outlandish combinations he can think of just to annoy the others. But Pierce, through hard work and experimentation, does become really good at cooking. Leif still insists on trying everything first.

Both Noi and Pierce feel safer in confined, dark spaces than they do in open, bright areas. They are the only ones who feel this way. Pierce prefers that the hole be at least a little damp, too, because of his water affinity, while Noi is fine as long as it’s not too hot or cold.

Noi and Pierce also very much enjoy mud baths. Or just relaxing in a pool of mud. Pierce enjoys it more than Noi, but it’s the one thing that they really like to do together when the others are getting annoying.

Earth Daemos are more physically affectionate than other Daemos, so it’s not unusual to find Noi leaning against Pierce or Pierce just carrying Noi (and others) around.

Rhys can drink salt water without getting dehydrated. Pierce can too, but not to the extent that Rhys can. Rhys actually has this natural aura to him that purifies nearby water; it’s why he’s fine sitting at the bottom of a chlorinated pool for hours instead of his gills getting burned up.

Yes, Rhys has gills. Pierce has a set of his own, too. They only function underwater, and can get sliced up very easily in a fight, but it’s a trait that all water affinity Daemos have.

Rhys can actually tell whether or not a body of water would be safe to drink from by touch alone; he’s got the best sense of touch amongst the group. He always likes to double check his observations, due to a need to be thorough and his own self-doubt.

Rhys finds that he loves not just ice cream, but most other cold foods as well; this is mostly due to his ice affinity. He’s found that sucking/chewing on ice cubes helps him to focus, so it’s not uncommon to find him doing just that if he’s working on a particularly difficult problem.

Rhys will bury himself in his quest for knowledge if there’s a problem he doesn’t want, or doesn’t feel capable enough, to tackle. And to distract from his anxieties and worries of “am I doing it right? Will my actions now cause suffering down the road? What will I do if I fail?” and the like. There are times when he’ll just meditate in cold water to clear his head, especially when he gets overwhelmed; Ava later introduces Rhys to yoga, which he finds relaxing as well.

Rhys is the most flexible of the group. Almost to a disturbing degree.

Rhys’ tail is very long and supple, and has a tendency to coil around whatever it can reach. This annoys Rhys to no end, but he likes his tail too much to get rid of it, so he finds ways to deal with it.

Leif has a profound resistance to most toxins, and an exceptional sense of taste. He can usually determine the properties of a plant—even one he’s never seen before—just by chewing on it. Not that he doesn’t double check, or use other methods to find things he might have missed, it’s just that chewing on a random plant sample is his go-to method in almost every situation.

Heck, plants aren’t the only thing! Leif has developed a habit of using his tongue to make sure his blades are clean, and he can identify the properties of a soil sample with his mouth, too. He’s just got a really well-developed palate. And a tendency to stick random things in his mouth if he can’t tell what it is. He was always the one to taste test Asch’s food to ensure that the meal isn’t poisoned back on Daemos, and he’ll happily steal a piece of food from Ava with that as his excuse now.

Leif’s first instinct when he encounters something he’s never seen is to taste it; he just takes a sample to chew on. The number of times Ava has had to distract Leif with a piece of gum just so she can get whatever piece of plastic he’s chewing on this time is innumerable. It gets to the point where Ava just always has gum on her for just that reason.

When it comes to anything plant-based, Leif is your guy. Poisons, medicines, it’s all just a matter of what plants he needs to use and what he needs to do with them. He often carries around a mortar and pestle, just in case he needs to make some emergency medicine. His favorite way to annoy Rhys and Asch when he does that is to pretend to have ground the plants in his mouth, because it grosses them both out.

Leif really likes to antagonize others, which is unusual for a plant affinity Daemos. He has a secondary affinity for wind (not that he knows this), but that’s only part of the cause. The other part is that Leif views kindness as a weakness, and it’s a force of habit for him to pick on anyone he can. It gets worse on Earth, due to the massive amount of freetime the Daemos have there. Ava helps him create a second garden by the window, and it helps a little, but that still gives Leif so much extra time with nothing to do but bug the others.

Ava’s first solution to Leif’s restlessness was to get him a toy to fidget with, but that ended almost immediately when he proved how destructive a bouncy ball can be. In the end, the solution that worked was to just put a plant in almost every available space in Ava’s apartment, giving Leif a lot more to do and acting as a ward against wanton destruction of the apartment.

Leif eventually gets his bouncy ball back. He still wants to weaponize it.

I should probably mention Leif’s secondary affinity for wind. He has no idea he has it, and Rhys really only suspects that Leif has it. Wind affinity Daemos aren’t all that common (wind is caused by unequal heating of the atmosphere due to the sun, and the sun isn’t really a thing in Daemos, so…), but they do have certain traits and abilities unique to them. Leif is very fast and stealthy, has a more flighty sense of duty than the others, and can go from thinking things through to “I’m going to do this dumb thing because I felt like it” in an instant. He’s always full of energy, like Noi, and acts more on his own whims and desires than anything else. He can’t focus on anything besides his passions for very long before he becomes bored. Leif is also the most likely to survive a fall from a high-altitude, and can jump the highest. He’s rather light for his height.

As always, feel free to add your own stuff!

#aphmau #my inner demons aphmau #my inner demons asch #my inner demons noi #my inner demons pierce #my inner demons rhys #my inner demons leif #my inner demons ava #zaz rambles #rhys: practically bending over backwards to reach something #everyone else: PLEASE STOP #pierce: *extreme passive-aggressive rock crunching*#leif: watch me do this disgusting thing #asch: stop it both of you #asch does not get emotions #noi is the emotional support daemos #my inner demons headcanons

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