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earnestly-endlessly · 3 years

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Cherik angst!

Ooooh the angst!! The cherik fandom has an abundance of angst fics and I could probably make a list of hundred fics to recommend, but these are some of my favourite angsty cherik fics. I should warn you though, some of these require tissues.

Cherik Angst

Everyday Love in Stockholm – tahariel

Summary: Magneto is the ruler of the posthuman world.

His only secret? Charles Xavier, the human he's kept locked in his bedroom ever since his right-hand woman, Mystique, came to him pleading for mercy for her stepbrother, who accepted her mutant form and protected her as a child. The human he started fucking after Mystique was killed in battle, despite the guilt he feels at contaminating even this last promise to the woman who was integral to his life's work and happiness.

Boden’s Mate – kaydeefalls

Summary: "Shaw has information that we need, and we need him alive to extract it," Moira says, and there it is: the job is on the table. Extraction.

XMFC/Inception fusion AU. Erik is an extractor, Alex is his point man. They're assembling a team to go after the most dangerous mind in dreamsharing: Sebastian Shaw. But unless Alex and the team can keep him in check, Erik's desire for vengeance might just rip the whole job apart around them -- and then there's the shade that haunts his dreams...

Ritual Self-Torture – TurtleTotem

Summary: Shaw is King, Charles is his royal consort and Erik is a Knight/Lord. Shaw is sterile but his kingdom can't find out, so he asks Erik to impregnate Charles.

He doesn't know Erik and Charles are in love.

The Winter of Banked Fires – Yahtzee

Summary: Charles Xavier has returned from the dead -- but is lost within his own mind. Rogue has cast aside her own power and doesn't know where she fits in the world any longer. The production of synthetic Cure means mutantkind itself is newly at risk. And Magneto, turned human against his will, is in despair until the day he feels a familiar consciousness tugging at his own

Us – Pangea

Summary: “Charles,” Erik says, and if his voice hits a pleading note then who can really blame him, “Charles, it’s me.”

It takes several longer moments before Charles musters up the strength to answer, breath stuttering horribly as he tries to breathe. He’s shaking, entire body trembling.

“Erik,” Charles says, his voice cracking, “Erik, I want to die.”

Enigma – Yahtzee

Summary: Erik dies, or finds a reversey-time mutant, or a magical time travelling device, and wakes up in the past. This time, though, it's before he ever met Charles - in fact, it's before his mother died.

He can save his mother that one time (thanks to his mastery over powers carrying back), but what does Erik do after that? Does he stick around, or escape and run to find Charles again (and hope everything doesn't go wrong)?

By Faint Indirections – kianspo

Summary: Erik is in his ~50s, and lonely and bitter. He survived the Holocaust and was only ~14 when the war ended; and even ~40 years later, living in a country that helped to end WW2 and the Third Reich, homosexuality is still a taboo topic. Then one day, he stumbles over Charles, who is young(early 20s) and bright and smart and cheeky and full of energy and beautiful. And moving in the same street where Erik lives.

Lonesome on the Shelf – ikeracity

Summary: After three years of marriage, Charles has to admit that his relationship with Erik has significantly cooled off. These days, they're barely ever home at the same time and it seems like every conversation they have turns into an argument. Charles misses the way they used to be, misses the spontaneous dinner parties and the surprise morning sex and the wake up calls in the early mornings to catch the sunrise. But it's going to take two of them to fix this marriage, and some days, it seems as if all Erik wants is to be rid of him.

A fic about rekindling marriage.

When the Spell Breaks – kianspo

Summary: Erik, a high-profile lawyer with a successful career, meets a 21-year-old grad student in a bar, and within a few short months marries him. He and Charles are blissfully happy, until Erik's boss runs a background check on Charles and discovers he's been cheating on Erik. Charles denies everything, as there was no affair, but Erik doesn't believe him and throws him out. As Charles tries to figure out how to survive and stay at school that he can no longer afford and makes a lot of bad if not plain dangerous choices, Erik has to fight his own battle of discovering the truth and winning Charles back.

The Tower and the Hurricane – dreamlittleyo

Summary:(Post-movie AU.) Five years after Shaw's death, Erik's predictions prove painfully accurate. Violence rages on both sides of the human/mutant conflict. In a world ravaged by war, it doesn't really matter who's more at fault. Charles struggles to teach his students a better way, but what choices will he make when peace really isn't an option?

The Attempt – Yahtzee

Summary: Charles knows everything about Erik, knows how obsessive and self-destructive he is, how Erik would do anything, give anything, in his quest for vengeance against Shaw. But he also knows that Erik loves him in ways that aren't exactly platonic.

I'd like to see a completely straight!Charles, out of pure love and care of Erik, initiate a romantic relationship with him. It can be because he wishes to give Erik something positive in his life or because he thinks it might help change Erik's mind about Shaw, the reason is up to author. Also, while Charles finds intimacy with Erik strange and awkward, he does enjoy the new, non-romantic layers that have developed in their relationship.

Apple Seeds – pprfaith

Summary: Charles, Erik, apple seeds and Shakespearean love affairs.

Ashes, Ashes – winterhill

Summary: Post-apocalyptic AU — When the bombs fall, and mutually assured destruction occurs, it turns out that Shaw was right and radiation does enhance mutant powers. Snapshots of the XMFC main ensemble in the time after the bombs: Erik decides to stay, Moira thinks she might be the only human left, Raven is having trouble sleeping, and Charles is losing his mind.

Warnings: nuclear holocaust: death (death in general, not a specific character), cancer, burns, medical procedure, mutant powers gone awry

Five Bullet Points – Sperare

Summary: It was supposed to be Erik locked away in a prison one hundred stories below the ground.

Charles was never supposed to be there with him.

Tequila on a spaceship – faerie_ground

Summary: In 2014, Charles Xavier gets brutally murdered and Erik Lehnsherr spends the rest of his life mourning his death.

In 3014, Captain Lehnsherr and CMO Dr Xavier are colleagues, best friends and maybe a little more besides that aboard the Magneto I.

The Tower and the Hurricane – dreamlittleyo

Summary: Post-movie AU.) Five years after Shaw's death, Erik's predictions prove painfully accurate. Violence rages on both sides of the human/mutant conflict. In a world ravaged by war, it doesn't really matter who's more at fault. Charles struggles to teach his students a better way, but what choices will he make when peace really isn't an option?

Simple and Uncomplicated – Pookaseraph

Summary: Erik and Charles had been fuck buddies for some, but when Charles is in an accident he figured their relationship would be over. Erik's visit to his bedside in the hospital changes his assumptions even as he has trouble believing Erik is sincere.

Lazarus – Clocks

Summary: Erik is 19 when he says ‘I love you’ for the first time.

It would take five long years before Charles says it back.

Broken Eternity – CractasticDispatches

Sumnmary: It starts with being alone. It shouldn’t, perhaps, but it does because, of course, alone is what no one ever wishes to be.

Shout it Out Loud – dreamlittleyo

Summary: (Movie-Concurrent AU.) When Charles forges a telepathic link between himself and Erik, the two men find themselves bound together by more than just destiny. With the world on the brink of war, Charles and Erik struggle to cope with a psychic connection that may well be permanent.

Call Me By His Name – sinuous_curve

Summary: Charles wakes from the absence of noise.

There is an empty space in his room, beside his bed. Not quiet as in an abandoned room, but utterly, featurelessly blank. Like a box made of unblemished, impenetrable metal and Charles knows before he opens his eyes.

The Longest Word – septicwheelbarrow

Summary: "I'm Charles Xavier," he says, smiling from ear to ear. Then he gestures to his wheelchair. "Terminal spinal osteoblastoma, reaper due to collect in a year."

After some time, the man gestures at himself with a sardonic smile. "Same, one year. Lung." And then, reluctant, as if trying to keep his name to himself, "Erik."

I reject your reality and substitute my own. Doesn't really work that way, both ways.

Copy – chantefable

Summary: Charles wakes up without his memory. His sole caretaker, Erik, claims to be his husband, and tells him he's recovering from a car accident on their honeymoon.

Slowly falling for Erik again, Charles begins to regain his memories. He starts to notice strange things about his body, Erik, and their secluded mansion.

Myosotis – SomeCoolName

Summary: When Charles got back from Cuba, he lost the two things which made him stand: his legs and the love of his life, Erik Lehnsherr. Charles can get used to the wheelchair but he won't ever be able to get pass the loss of Erik.

"I wish I never met him" is something Charles says one night, maybe a bit drunk, absolutely wrecked for sure. It's a bit silly but Charles figures out his only solution is to use his own powers to erase Erik from his mind, progressively.

Except one day Erik comes back to the Xavier mansion to win him back. And even if Charles doesn't want to stop forgetting about him, Erik will do anything he can to convince him otherwise.

Das Haus am See – sareyen

Summary: The Lake House AU:

Erik is an estate planning lawyer who takes some time off to get away from the big city after his marriage fell apart. He lives in a picturesque lake house by Chautauqua Lake for almost two years, before moving back to New York City. This is in 2019.

Charles is a famous but very private author stuck in a creative rut, and moves to his lakeside estate for a short while to try and find a reason to write again. This is in 2017.

By magic or fate, Charles and Erik discover that the letter box at the lake house has the ability to send letters through time, between Charles in 2017 and Erik in 2019. Through letters that transcend the barriers of time, Charles and Erik fall in love. Charles vows to find Erik two years in his future, and Erik promises to wait for him. Two years - just two, meagre years.

But, fate is fickle, and time waits for no one.

Appropriate Boundaries – Yahtzee

Summary: Charles has been having serious problems with back cramps in the year and a half since he's been in a wheelchair. His doctor prescribes massage therapy. But when Charles meets his masseur, Erik, in some ways they begin to heal each other. So how do you cross the boundaries between professional touch -- and the personal?

Unbound – Cesare, helens78

Summary: Thousands of miles apart, Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier form a soulbond. But when that bond is severed five years later, they have to spend the next ten years trying to rebuild their lives alone.

Do You Love Me – cgf_kat

Summary: Charles and Erik have been married for 25 years, thrown together by a mandatory post-apocalyptic pairing system attempting to increase and strengthen the population. They have seven children. They have never spoken of love, but change is on the horizon.

A Quiet Riot – cloudstroke (aQuired)

Summary: Erik can't stand the fact that his father has brought home a boy less than half his age.

But mostly because he's madly in love with Charles Xavier himself.

#cherik #cherik fic recs #fic recs #angst #asks #earnestly answers

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vermillioncrown · 2 years

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Verm, how do you write fight scenes? Yours are really good, how do you block them

o thank you

i'm very reliant on visual imagination. it helps that i have some experience in kinetic pastimes: ballet, taekwondo, group dance and choreographing, theater blocking, school sports. from these you know how human bodies can move, what is natural, what might be instinctual, what requires practice.

fights don't last long when skill levels are highly disparate. it's usually over quickly, unless something is leveling the playing field.

segue: there's a miniature skirmish game i play that basically enacts a gunfight that should, if animated/acted out, take no more than 10-20 minutes. but the tactics to play out all three rounds of the game takes upwards of 2 hours. i think of fight scenes like that. the entire thing, if you break down each action in your head, can be blown up to as dense as can be. but likely, there are defining moments to focus on that should be what you describe step-by-step. the rest can be summarized

why am i writing this scene in the first place? is something being conveyed during the fight? is it a badass moment? pick no more than three specific 'action shots' to describe in detail (actual positioning, limbs, weapons doing things)

why does this fight start? (reason, and actual action to trigger start of fight scene)

what should result from the fight? (conclusion/fallout, ending action)

participants, personality, loadout determine possible actions during the fight

i don't go over each part of the fight in detail

i think my pattern is detailed action at the beginning and end, maybe a snapshot in the middle, and the rest is filled with higher-level analysis of the fight (higher level as in not detailed play-by-play of each punch/attack, but more analogies and descriptors of how the opponents are engaging each other)

idk bear with me, the verm process only makes sense internally

i guess an example would be to decompose the ch 13 fight. there's already a solid image i had of both participants - wwx's flips and shit from the animation, portraying flightiness and reckless talent; zyx's deflections and attacks from close range like wing chun, and a hidden spite of 'i'd die to win'

the result was supposed to be a falling out between wwx and zyx. zyx, while skilled, isn't supposed to be uber talented. their strife comes from perpetual imposter syndrome, and wwx is supposed to be their first real encounter with the mountain that's 'canon'. wwx winning would also ruin everything that shuangfeng was trying to do, and while i could write that, i also wanted to give some credit to hyg's tutelage lol.

at gusu, they would fear political fallout, so a draw would be the best case scenario. then let's make that draw happen. it also needs to be edgy and badass because it's my fanfic and i do what i want.

it's a sword fight, so they would have to get into close range. the two of them are the type to run at each other, so that's the first move. wwx, being from a traditional swordsmanship background, would move to draw his blade. it's in his right hand, sheath in left. a traditional cultivator of the north doesn't seem to use their sheath, so we leave it at that.

zyx is already noted to use their sheath to fight, only drawing their blade when pressed. their sheathed sword, starting in their left hand, aims to get past their opponent's attack before a counterattack as dictated by style and personality.

based on experience, you have two choices - left or right against the other person's right (your left). to open up the opponent's midline, you want their right to go further right - your left. if you use your left arm to hit them out, you also expose your own midline.

then the right arm is the correct choice. after the action of getting hulang to the right hand, the action to push your right hand to your left naturally happens if you pivot.

we start with wwx's attack (right hand slash from left to right, drawing his blade), zyx's counter (right hand against wwx's sword, right to left), and zyx is now standing right side facing wwx's front. auto action there for me is to elbow a mofo in the throat. hulang in hand, the butt of the sheath will do fine.

wwx is dodging. he can either dodge left, right, or backwards (or maybe teleport, but that's very unlikely). hulang is coming from right to left for him, so if he moves to his left, he's just trying to outrace the attack. he wants to either move back or right, then. back takes him outside of engagement distance, and he's the reckless kind of guy that would stick around

so wwx goes right. if he goes right, he's moving his right-handed blade further from cutting zyx. he needs to turn to get enough space to slash at zyx. should be possible to drop, spin, rise - i've done it enough during dance. okay, wwx gets a little spin as a treat.

this slash is horizontal based on how wwx is spinning. to stop it, go perpendicular - something straight up and down. zyx's sword is thrusting towards wwx, horizontal, but a rotation of the forearm is enough to bring hulang in the correct orientation.

i get a little messy describing zyx's first pointy stab during the duel, but that's fine - i (maybe) have given enough play-by-play such that it's not hand-wavey to wax poetic about the 'raptor-like' style of yunmeng jiang and wwx's acrobatics, and of course back w the crane motif for shuangfeng.

jumping to the end of the duel - i wanted zyx's draw to be jarring for them. you know, like when you have a scene where a guy has someone at knifepoint, and the camera pans down and the other guy also had them at knifepoint back?

swords are kinda big, hard to not see when you're being held at mercy. so i thought, we already got a lot of backstabbing on zyx's part - why not end it with a double backstab? it'd showcase how fast wwx picks up on skills, even mid-fight, and his actual talent for swordsmanship and cultivation instead of just talking about it. and zyx would literally not be able to see it was a draw.

(we got his perspective in wwx pov 2, and there's more on the duel once we see lxc's pov)

how to get them there? well, there's already precedence of sword reverse grip. both opponents are facing each other. somehow, they need to be behind each other.

wing chun, and its wiping, sweeping motions come in. a lot of the deflection, the pulling, that the crane forms and zyx uses are based on that type of counter attack. using someone's momentum to your advantage.

so there needs to be a forward-moving attack.

hm. wwx doesn't do much thrusting (heh), from what i've seen in the animation. never mind cql, i both love and hate wirework fighting lmao.

so it's another slash, from wwx's left to right because he's still holding his blade right handed, and that's the most natural and safe way to attack and protect his midline.

this is where physics and free body diagramming come into play. vectors and shit. the velocity of wwx's sword, speed and direction, there is some forward movement, likely, since he's not standing in place to spin in circles and hit someone.

there is a point that the sword can be plausibly pulled forward, being hit with the other sword. it has to be that point, because both swords are sharp and smooth, already in motion, and have no blade guards. the best way to move something is to work with its movement.

zyx's move is like a sword version of the wing chun pulling someone's punches forward by hooking with the back of your hand. hook back, but if you pull wwx's sword forward, naturally, his body will extend to follow the sword before he falls forward.

your arm extends first. so wwx's arm extends, that's his right arm. his midline is now facing away from zyx, leaving only the neck and back for attack.

the back is also at an awkward angle, facing zyx but not in direct path of their sword. but having the sword in reverse grip, the sword can be pushed forward with the arm.

plausibly reach wwx's neck? eh sure, the readers will buy it.

zyx reaches wwx's neck, but wwx is standing almost completely out of their line of sight. he could be up to anything. their back is to the gremlin supreme

he learns the grip flip maneuver that zyx was using all battle, and manages to aim his sword at zyx's back.

the ending pose imagined for the fight was the two of them, backs to each other, holding each other at edgy knifepoint for the Drama™

ugh idk go watch some mma on youtube. watch fencing for something quickly won.

or don't even focus on the action. because unless you really like fighting and martial demonstrations, over-describing something really bogs the point of the fight down. or do it anyways, you write what you want

#inquiry #Anonymous #this is an unhelpful verm #writing #on dbd #go watch naruto lmao #watch shippuden at .5 speed #tldr you gotta sit at your desk and stare at the ceiling lights #imagining and reimagining the actions until they make sense

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libermachinae · 4 years

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[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise 29. Prowl, in profile, looks to the right. Prowl: “I lost my best friend, Prime. Megatron stood at his side and only one of them walked away.” End ID.]

I’ve never stopped thinking about this line, so! What the fuck is up with Prowl and Bumblebee’s relationship? (Spoiler alert: I do not think Bee is another ex 😔)

They first met millions of years ago when Bumblebee went to Orion Pax for help regarding horrible dream he’d been having, and from there remained in each other’s orbits, though not really friends.

[ID: From Robots in Disguise #32. Prowl and Bumblebee stand with their backs to the reader, watching Metroplex lift off in city form while a battle rages in the sky around him. Bumblebee: “Nobody said war’s logical, bud.” Prowl: “That’s my point. We’re going to do stupid things until we die.” Bumblebee: “Primus, Prowl. Lighten up. We’re not like the Decepticons!” End ID.]

During the war, they got along fine, but in the one snapshot we see there’s not a lot of friendliness between them: Prowl is talking about the futility of their war and Bumblebee happens to be someone nearby. There’s a familiarity to the way they talk to each other (I doubt many people would bother or could get away with calling Prowl “bud”), but it’s more like coworkers who have been stepping on each other’s toes for a long time than real friends. The conversation begins and ends with Prowl’s internal monologue, while Bumblebee’s perspective is just a device used to draw out more of Prowl’s thoughts. Little is shown of their relationship because at this point, it just isn’t there.

[ID: Screenshot from The Transformers #21. Optimus stands with his back to the reader in the foreground, with Bumblebee and Prowl in the Background. Prowl’s caption: “That’s when Prime filled in the ‘Bee. He took it better than I expected. Smart questions. No whining. Focused the anger. He’s going to be a great leader one day. If he gets the chance.” End ID.]

(”the ‘Bee” lol Costa’s Prowl is a specimen) Half a million years later, they’re on Earth, Bumblebee has been elected and then demoted, and Optimus is leaving with most of the Autobots while assigning them to investigate the illegal weapons trade. Prowl has thoughts on Bumblebee’s leadership, which will be the ongoing theme of their relationship for the rest of the series. In typical Prowl fashion, he will never speak these particular thoughts aloud. (continues under the cut!)

[ID: Screenshots from Spotlight: Bumblebee. Panel 1: Bumblebee points offpanel with his cane and at himself with his thumb. Bumblebee: “No, wait, hang on, Prowl—I’m in charge here.” Panel 2: Prowl points a stern finger at Bumblebee, offpanel. Prowl: “What? Come on. This isn’t about being in charge, it’s about being right.” Panel 3: Prowl, flanked by two other Autobots, walks away from Bumblebee. Prowl: “’I’m in charge.’ Optimus Prime would never put up with that kind of procedural nonsense.” End ID.]

Spotlight: Bumblebee is basically a story about Bumblebee trying to impress Prowl. It opens by showing us how little respect Prowl holds for Bumblebee, ignoring his orders and taking bots he had already assigned to different tasks. We already know that Prowl is no Optimus fan, making the dig at Bumblebee extra cutting. It also doesn’t hurt that Bumblebee’s whole story so far has been about trying to live up to Optimus, Prowl’s words coming as long-anticipated confirmation that he has failed to do so.

[ID: Screenshot from Spotlight: Bumblebee. Prowl smiles. “Means the little guy’s got more spark than I gave him credit for, these last couple million years. Taking down five bad guys on his own— and blaming himself for not stopping a hundred more? And then coming home and taking control?” End ID.]

“That’s what Prime would do.”

Recklessly endangering himself for the sake of taking down a few “bad guys”? Yeah, that actually sounds exactly like Optimus.

Bumblebee proves himself taking command and earns a little respect from Prowl, even finding the confidence to bite back for Prowl’s “procedural nonsense” comment. It marks a big shift in their relationship, and by the time they’re back on Cybertron in time for Death of Optimus Prime, they’re working together by choice rather than decree. If we’re looking for a point where they become friends, I think this is it, a whole three years before the “best friend” panel above. All it took was a “couple million years” of just tolerating each other.

And this takes us into Phase 2!

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #1. Bumblebee waves a cellphone-like device in Prowl’s face. Prowl: “They’re not my friends.” Bumblebee: “Whatever they are—you keep them in line or I will. You understand?” End ID.]

And also into an ongoing conversation about friendship!

The pair is back on Cybertron following the events of Death of Optimus Prime and trying to figure out how to bring order to their home, and immediately disagree about the best way to do that. Bumblebee refers to the newly deputized Decepticon enforcers as Prowl’s “friends,” using the word to highlight the unprofessional, independent nature of what is essentially Prowl’s personal anti-neutral militia.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #1. Bumblebee: “Rodimus and his crew died. They were our friends—we can’t—can’t not eulogize them.” Prowl: “They were my comrades—dammit, my friends, too.” End ID.]

This leads into a conversation about the recently-departed Lost Light, for which Bumblebee thinks a memorial should be held. This time, when the word “friend” is used, it’s more sincere. Bumblebee also doesn’t say “my friends”—he extends an invitation that Prowl accepts, albeit clumsily.

Does he mean it, though? Prowl is not so socially bankrupt to not understand how friendships are supposed to look. Even if we dismiss his attitude to the Lost Light as general Prowlishness, this scene is followed by a conversation with Arcee in which he says he doesn’t trust anyone, which is a pretty major hurtle to get over. It’s not a stretch to assume Prowl is lying.

He never makes a move like that without a purpose, though. By referring to the Lost Light crew as his friends, he gets Bumblebee to relax and see things from his own perspective, giving him an opportunity to talk about the more pressing security issues they are facing. This, in fact, is Prowl’s go-to strategy: identify the person in power and get close to them, thereby giving him the ability to watch over how that power is wielded.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #1. Prowl speaks to Bumblebee over his shoulder. Prowl: “Look. every day, I watch the sun go down and wonder if we can make it another night without them. If I even want to.” Bumblebee: “Huh. I mean, yeah. Me, too.” Prowl: “I’m not emotionless, Bee. I care about Rodimus and Magnus and the rest as much as you do. But look at the situation logically.” End ID.]

That said, I don’t think Prowl is lying here. Despite how warped his worldview becomes, I do believe that at his core, Prowl wants what is best for Cybertronians (well, Autobots). Many of his darker plans were created with the intention to keep people alive, so regardless of his personal feelings to them, he is not “emotionless” and does feel something over their deaths.

[ID: First screenshot from Robots in Disguise #2. Bumblebee smirks at Prowl, holding up his electrocuting cane. Bumblebee: “Heh—same old Prowl. Wheeljack whipped it up the other day.” Prowl: I’ve got to have a talk with Wheeljack.” Second and third screenshots from Robots in Disguise #3. Panel 1: Bumblebee frowns at Prowl. “Enough! Prowl—shut up. Metalhawk has a point.” Panel 2: Prowl looks furious. Bumblebee is holding him back from lunging at someone off-panel. Prowl: “Bad move…” Bumblebee: “Down, Prowl.” End ID.]

I don’t have much to say about these scenes, except that I like them as an illustration of their dynamic in this part of the story. Cold, confrontational, and yet with a degree of familiarity I would’ve thought more fitting to a much older connection. I really can’t imagine the Prowl from half a million years ago, talking at Bumblebee about the folly of their commander, allowing himself to be held back and calmly talked down. Through their work together, something is developing that we might almost mistake for genuine friendship.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #4. Arcee: “Come on. I know you didn’t destroy it. You’re not that hard. But you are cold and calculating. Enough that even Bumblebee—even your only friend—thinks you might’ve.” Arcee: “Bee won’t say it. But you know that’s what he’s thinking.” Prowl: “It doesn’t bother me. Bee doubts everything. Even himself.” End ID.]

“Even Bee—even your only friend—thinks you might’ve.”

“Bee doubts everything. Even himself.”

The same phrase is used twice in the conversation to distinguish Bumblebee as an outlier (not the superpower kind, though maybe his ability to tolerate the Worst People should be considered). For Arcee, it’s in his proximity to Prowl. Prowl’s use of the phrase is a little more ambiguous, though. Is he saying that one should have faith in oneself if nothing else? It definitely fits in his worldview. Or is he saying Bumblebee is worthy of being trusted, believed in?

If so, what does that mean? Bumblebee would take Prowl’s endorsement as faith in his abilities as a leader, but we already know Prowl doesn’t view leadership that way. He needs to get an Autobot elected, and Bumblebee specifically, because he needs someone in power he can get close to and control. Bumblebee’s leadership, though perhaps not Bumblebee himself, offers Cybertron a path towards peace. So, actually, Arcee and Prowl mean the same thing: Bumblebee is special because he’s the person Prowl is closest to.

This is also the first indication we get that Bumblebee does not trust Prowl so fully as Prowl wants. As sneaky as Prowl is, it’s easy to forget sometimes that Bumblebee is his own agent with his own ability to measure the facts. He wants to trust Prowl, but that doesn’t blind him to Prowl’s reputation.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #5. Ironhide and Prowl cluster around Bumblebee, who looks contemplative. Prowl: “Think about what they’re say about you in the future, Bee! The Autobot that let the Decepticons go free?!” Ironhide: “He’s right—a little. Think about what the future can be. Cybertron’s our world,and tomorrow’s our day…” End ID.]

We get to see more of Bumblebee soon after, since Prowl gets cerebroshelled. Bomb-Prowl is much more ruthless than the genuine article, expressing little care for the lives of any Cybertronians, but nobody notices it around Prowl’s standard prickly persona. Bumblebee experiences growing unease with Bomb-Prowl’s methods, though interestingly does not dismiss him for it. Consider the above scene: a fight has just broken out. To resolve it, Ironhide, Starscream, and Ironhide recommend removing the Decepticons’ ID chips. Prowl is the sole voice of dissent, and Bumblebee chooses to ignore him while also maintaining their partnership.

Bumblebee can think for himself and say no to Prowl. This situation is not just Prowl manipulating and taking advantage of Bumblebee: the latter is fully capable of making his own decisions.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #11. Bumblebee stands on the left and Prowl on the right. Bumblebee: “Am I wearing blinders because you’re my friend? Are you even my friend?” End ID.]

When Omega Supreme is attacked, Bomb-Prowl accuses the Decepticons, opening himself up for scrutiny: Metalhawk accuses him of killing Ratbat. Bumblebee starts to express his doubts openly and he questions not only Prowl’s innocence, but their relationship altogether. (Also, though literally Bumblebee is asking, “Can I consider you, Prowl, a friend?” his question can also be read as, “Are you who you say you are?”)

Bumblebee’s question doesn’t imply he trusts Prowl. He doesn’t even trust himself: he’s wondering if their friendship has installed in him an implicit bias in Prowl’s favor. There is a possibility his feelings regarding Prowl are strong enough to warp his perception of reality, and he’s worried that he can’t see what's obvious to everyone else. In contrast to previous leaders Prowl has watched over, Bumblebee is aware of his ability and willingness to manipulate those around him. He’s not under any illusion that Prowl is honest with him all the time, but he also isn’t confident enough in himself to remove Prowl’s influence.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #11. Bumblebee: “Then I want to get back to finding Ironhide and the others, because he’s my friend and friends look out for each other.” End ID.]

There is also the matter that he does consider Prowl a friend. Not a good friend (as in caring, respectful, thoughtful), but nevertheless one he does not want to lose.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #14. Panel 1: Bumblebee shoves Metalhawk aside and reaches for Prowl, who is collapsing to the floor. Bumblebee: “Prowl—I—” Panel 2: Prowl lies on the floor. Prowl: “Bee… it wasn’t… wasn’t me… How could you not… see that?” End ID.]

I think the feeling is mutual. Prowl’s not angry at Bumblebee for falling for the Decepticons’ trap.

He’s hurt that his friend didn’t notice he was gone.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #16. Ironhide helps Prowl up. Prowl: “…I’m me.” Ironhide: “Got too much of an ego ta be anybody else.” Prowl: “I—I needed to hear—” Bumblebee (off-panel): “Later, Prowl…” End ID.]

Their relationship starts to go downhill from here. After breaking free from Devastator, Prowl actually tries to talk about his feelings, and Bumblebee dismisses him. To be fair, there are other things going on that need their attention, but Prowl is never given an opportunity to process what he has been through. Bumblebee, who excels at talking to people and helping them through their problems, never offers a space for Prowl to open up about his experience, and it’s the internalization of his trauma that leads to Prowl’s emotional degeneration through the rest of the series.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #18. Panel 1: Bumblebee hunches over his cane, struggling to stand. Bumblebee: “It’s *kaff*… Well, I don’t want to know *kaff kaff* what’s going on in his mind, but… Prowl didn’t do any of the *koff* terrible stuff.” Panel 2: Bumblebee stands in front of Prowl, facing the reader. Bumblebee: “He was *kaff* being controlled by Bombshell. I mean obviously he didn’t *koff* kill you guys—he didn’t blow up the Decepticon pen. He *kaff kaff* wasn’t running a secret war. He didn’t *koff* have Ratbat eliminated.” End ID.]

I don’t think Bumblebee is being intentionally malicious, though. Consider all the times Prowl has had to say outright that he feels things and has emotions: I think it’s more accurate to say Bumblebee didn’t believe him. The doubts he felt about Prowl were never with regard to his intentions, but rather the way he interacted with and understood the world around him. Bumblebee, going by the reputation Prowl made for himself, doesn’t believe Prowl processes events the same way he does, and as a result falsely assume that his mind control and forced combination will have no greater impact on Prowl.

And then even Bumblebee’s faith in Prowl’s intentions is shaken when Arcee reveals he did call for Ratbat’s assassination. Bumblebee is so betrayed he passes out.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #18. Panel 1: Ironhide grins to the side while Bumblebee holds a fist to his mouth, coughing. Ironhide: “Aw. An’ everything was goin’ so well…” Bumblebee: “Prowl. Why—what—*kof kofff* *koff kaf*” Panel 2: Bumblebee’s hand reaches up as he collapses. Bumblebee: “*kaf kaf* Nnnggggh…” End ID.]

The next time they interact is in Dark Cybertron. Getting close to the end, here!

[ID: First screenshot from More Than Meets the Eye #23. Bumblebee points his gun up to the off-panel Titan. Prowl stands beside him. Bumblebee: “What?!” Prowl: “You talked a good game with the Dinobots. But you need to act, too. When you were in charge of the city, you were paralyzed.” Second screenshot from Robots in Disguise #23. Panel 1: Prowl, yelling: “You’re hesitating again! Look at us! We’re teaming up with the enemy and letting Starscream do whatever he wants?!” Panel 2: Bumblebee, with a steadying hand out, stands in front of Soundwave. Bumblebee: “Prowl, shut up for once. All your attitude ever got us was… was the Constructicons.” Soundwave: “The Constructicons stand with you?” Bumblebee: “Long story, Soundwave. And this isn’t a team up. We just happen to have the same objective.” Panel 3: Prowl points at Soundwave. “Then do something! Don’t just let this—this—Decepticon control you!” End ID. Third screenshot from Robots in Disguise #23. Prowl holds up a struggling Arcee while yelling at Bumblebee. Prowl: “You let this happen, Bee! We attack now!” Bumblebee: “Prowl, get your priorities in order—” End ID.]

Evidence of Prowl’s trauma starts to become more visible. The comradery they shared before is gone; Prowl’s methodical approach to problems is gone. Instead, he is scared and impulsive, and he takes out his new anxieties on his “only friend” because Bee is the one thing he’s supposed to be able to control.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #26. Panel 1: Bumblebee and Prowl stand amidst flaming wreckage. Hound (off-panel): “Where’s Megatron?” Bumblebee: “He’s… I think he’s gone. He took the thumb and ran.” Prowl: “Dammit. You should have never done back for him, Bee.” Panel 2: Bumblebee grabs Prowl’s neck. Bumblebee: “Prowl, you smug piece of—” Prowl: “Uk!” Panel 3: Bumblebee releases Prowl. Bumblebee: “I’ve had enough of your self-righteous second-guessing…” End ID.”

But he can’t. Bumblebee has gotten used to ignoring Prowl or refuting him. Add to that Prowl’s heightened emotional state, and Bumblebee responds to his criticism with open aggression. Stuck in crisis mode like they are, there is no way for them to reset and calm down until the Titan is finally taken down and everything comes to a standstill for a moment.

[ID: Screenshot from More Than Meets the Eye #27. Prowl leans close to Bumblebee, gesturing to his head. The Constructicons linger in the background. Bumblebee: “Oh, good. I was hoping your friends would could out of hiding.” Prowl: “They weren’t—I mean, they’re not—They just shared my memories. The Decepticons exploited my—my—my head!” End ID.]

And with this, we cycle back to their first conversation in Robots in Disguise. Before, Bumblebee used the word “friends” to criticize Prowl’s Decepticon enforcers and the freedom they were granted to terrorize the neutrals. Prowl, known to circumvent the chain of command, decided to forgo it almost entirely in that case, creating a violent, lawless group that did not fit into the military structure the Autobots still relied on.

Now, he uses “friend” to refer to the enthusiasm the Constructicons have for Prowl. Prowl’s deceit has been brought into the open, legitimizing Bumblebee’s fears and forcing him to question all over again his role as a leader. The doubts he had in himself and Prowl are tied together, so that even with the knowledge that everything that happened to Prowl was out of his control, he still feels threatened by the Decepticon presence Prowl now carries with him.

And even though he’s met with this kind of hostility, Prowl still comes back to Bumblebee to continue work as his advisor. He’s got a group of bots literally right there who trust him and support him without reservation, but he chooses Bumblebee because he still believes in their power to do right by Cybertron.

[ID: Screenshot from More Than Meets the Eye #27. Prowl stands on the left, Bumblebee on the right. Prowl: “Bee—we stopped his plan, but Shockwave is still out there.” Bumblebee: I know, and you’re totally right, and anything less than a perfect attack plan and we’re sunk—so I need you to come up with one. In the meantime—mingle. There has to be somebody you want to say ‘hi’ to.” Prowl: “Actually…” End ID.]

This is the last time they talk to each other. Prowl reminds him of the impending danger, Bumblebee is grateful for his expertise, and then he encourages Prowl to go relax. There’s something to be said for the fact that upon leaving Bumblebee’s side, Prowl immediately seeks out his ex, but I think it’s mainly just that he’s lonely rather than anything nefarious. He’s lonely, and despite their distrust and criticism and generally poor treatment of each other, Bumblebee is someone who accepts his company, a rare thing that’s he’s going to lose very soon.

When I first read the words “best friend,” I assumed Prowl was lying. I also assumed, even if that was true, it would not hold in the reverse. I think I’ve changed my mind on both counts. Prowl didn’t pursue Bumblebee with genuine intentions, but they both ended up getting something out of it. It’s not a healthy relationship, but at a tumultuous time in their lives it might literally be the best they can do and in their own ways, they trust they’re going to look out for each other.

[ID: Screenshot from Robots in Disguise #18. Bumblebee, with his cane, leans on Prowl as they leave the ruins of Iacon. Their plating bears obvious damage, and ash and dust float through the air around them. End ID.]

#maccadam #transformers #prowl #bumblebee #idw #meta #thoughts #i gotta rewrite sparklight #next project after solenoid and fault lines

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zaharya · 2 years

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Scrivener 3 – Extended Tutorial (Part 2)

I hope you find this guide useful! To enable me to make more of these, and make them available for everyone, please consider supporting me via KoFi! I love sharing my stuff freely and don't want to paywall anything, but I also have to eat – every contribution helps and is greatly appreciated!

This is tutorial 3 (part 2) of my neurodivergence friendly tutorial series for Scrivener 3, and a direct continuation of the Main Tutorial. It's intended for people who are new to Scrivener, as well as people who are already familiar with it, as it also covers less prominent (yet useful) features you may not have stumbled over yet.

Important note: All my tutorials are based on Scrivener for MacOS! Though minor, there are some differences between Scrivener 3 for Windows vs for MacOS, so you may notice a few small discrepancies if you use Scrivener with Windows. Further, all tutorials are based on my own personal workflow, and all screenshots are from my personal files, so please don't distribute those elsewhere. My workflow is not universal (duh), and if you use certain features differently that doesn't mean one of us is doing it wrong. You do you! Lastly, the main tutorial originated on Discord, which is probably noticeable in how this is all written – I am not changing that, since many people have insisted that this was exactly what made it easier to follow than the official Scrivener tutorial.

A continuously updated Masterlist with all my Scrivener 3 tutorials can be found here.

(Part 2 of the Extended Tutorial begins below the cut.)

Extended Tutorial (Part 2)

[Direct continuation from where Part 1 left off.]

Besides the overall Project Goal (aka Draft Target), you can also set Document Targets. To open those options, select only one file in your binder, then click on the little target circle in the bottom right corner.

Targets set here only apply to this specific file. That can be useful for things with a word count limitation, such as an Abstract for a paper. You can also decide whether you want it to be a word target or a character target.

Revision Mode

Okay so let's say you did the thing �� you wrote your story, yay! Now, few first drafts are flawless; most of us do at least one round of edits, and preferably have someone beta-read it. But how are they (your editor/beta-reader) supposed to annotate your draft, given that Scrivener isn't an online-platform? [Of course, one option is to simply compile your project as a Word document, upload it to Google Drive, and share that with your editor. However, if there are a lot of changes, that might be quite tedious to then transfer all of them back into your Scrivener project.]

Conveniently, Scrivener has its own solution for this: Revision mode. Go to Format -> Revision Mode and select whichever revision round you're on (let's assume First Revision to start with).

Basically, when activating revision mode, the font-colour of new text is changed to the revision colour (red for the first, blue for the second etc. – you can customise this in the overall Preferences). That way changes are immediately visible in the text. [Personally I recommend to take a Snapshot before beginning any sort of revision, as deleted text won't be marked in any way!]

Afterwards, you can simply go through the proposed changes as you would in Word or Gdocs. Whether you remove the revision colour or not as you go is up to you. Personally, I don't; I simply mark the draft as revised once I'm done going through them all. For any further revisions, I'll then just move on to Second Revision etc. So, for example, the first revision might be your own first edit, the second revision might be your editor/beta-reader's comments, and a third revision your own final edit.

That can get quite colourful as you can see, though the example above only includes two revisions in red and light blue (dark blue are citations, and ignore my horrible thesis draft writing pls). Whether you like it colourful or not is up to you, if not you can simply remove the revision colour of "finished" revisions. Either way it lets you track your changes pretty closely which I think is nice. Also, revision colours are not included in compile, so you can technically just leave them there and nobody would ever know when you show them the compiled project. Just don't forget to snapshot between revisions to make sure you don't lose anything!

Adjusting the Toolbar

Throughout these tutorials, you may have noticed already that my Toolbar is a bit different from yours – unless by some coincidence you made the exact same adjustments as I did, in which case I suppose you know this already and can skip this section. It's different from the default, at the very least. [The default Toolbar includes (from left to right): View settings, project search, item add and delete buttons, button to insert media into the text editor, and quick ref button on the left; the quick search bar, and view modes buttons in the middle; and finally on the right buttons to compile, create bookmarks, enter composition mode, and to open/close the Inspector.]

"And why, pray tell, should I adjust my Toolbar?"

Well, it's not like you have to, but I do think it can make a noticeable difference to your user-experience if you personalise your interface to suit your needs. In my case, the changes are quite minimal these days. [There used to be more – you can see the differences between some images – but I never transferred it all after getting a new laptop because my workflow had changed in the meantime. Anyway– ]

To edit the Toolbar, go to View -> Customise Toolbar, which opens this menu:

Yep, that's a lot of options. Nope, we didn't cover all of that – a fair bit, but far from everything. So then why am I shoving this in your face here? I've said this before, but it bears repeatingé The best part about Scrivener is that you can use it however you like and that you can customise it to suit your specific needs.

For example I personally never use Quick References or Composition mode, so I should probably yeet that out of my Toolbar (seriously why haven't I??? I've had this laptop for months, jfc) to free up space for other buttons I might have more use for. On the flip side, I really enjoy Typewriter mode, and I use the Snapshot function very frequently – so I added both of those to my Toolbar to have them easily accessible.

If you add a lot of Comments and Footnotes, adding those to your Toolbar will save you having to switch your Inspector to that tab; or if you're really fond of checking your writing stats (getting there in a sec), add the Statistics button to your Toolbar to have them at a click. Trust me, having the features you use the most readily available makes a huge difference in how smooth and comfortable your workflow feels – and the more comfortable the workflow, the less it distracts from what we're actually trying to do: Writing. -climbs back down off her soapbox-

Writing Statistics and Writing History

Does what it says on the tin; shows you your writing statistics and writing history.

Things that are Good to Know

Copy Special (for AO3) For all my AO3 authors here who hate transferring all their italics from their draft to AO3; if you're working on MacOS, you never have to worry about this again. Why? Because you can simply copy-paste your fic using Copy Special into the AO3 HTML editor and everything is perfectly preserved. Well, the basics at least. Go to Edit -> Copy Special -> Copy as HTML and then simply paste that into the HTML editor on AO3.

If you're using Scrivener on Windows, that unfortunately won't work for you. However, I made an export format that compiles your project as plain text with the necessary HTML formatting for basic italics and scene breaks. You can find it here. [I do recommend to have a look at the Compile Tutorial first, unless you are already familiar with how to compile a project!]

Placeholders For example <$projecttitle> or <$author> on a title page; expressions that will be replaced with the respective value on compile. You can find a list of all placeholders under Help -> List of All Placeholders.

Small Fun Shit

You'd think we'd be done by now, huh? Well, there's more. There's always more. [Unfortunately we've already hit the image limit, but it's not worth starting a part 3 just for two little things, so there won't be images for these.]

Name Generator Can't name your characters even if your life depended on it? Edit -> Writing Tools -> Name Generator lets you generate up to 500 random names based on whichever name databases you select. These are preinstalled in Scrivener. I'm fairly sure there are more out there to be found, but I haven't ever spent much time looking.

Linguistic Focus Don't ask me what the actual purpose of this is, I'm sure there is one, but to me it's just cool. Basically you can select a language focus and the selected type of writing (direct speech, pronouns, verbs, adjectives etc) will be highlighted like the text in Focus mode. Edit -> Writing Tools -> Linguistic Focus to enable. [Note: For some weird reason the full linguistic focus is only available for Scrivener on MacOS, whereas on Windows it is limited to highlighting direct speech.]

Summary

Okay so what was this extended tutorial about?

Editor modes in a bit more detail

Layouts

Collections

Project goals; draft and document targets, deadlines, session target

Revision mode

Adjusting the Toolbar

Writing statistics and writing history

Things that are good to know; incl. Copy special as HTML (for posting to AO3) and Placeholders

Small fun stuff; Name generator, Linguistic focus

Of course, as always, there is more. However, all the other things on my list are either specific to compiling a project (and therefore belong into the Compile Tutorial), specific to a certain template (covered in the Templates Overview), or just kinda random (e.g., custom Binder icons), so they won't be added here. Anyway, where can you find the rest?

There are two immediately connected tutorials to this one:

Main Tutorial (which you've already read)

Compile Tutorial

Besides those, there are a few supplementary posts in the works that aren't part of the continuous main strand per se, but rather provide explanations for rather specific things.

Scrivener to AO3 Export Format (incl. download link)

Assorted "How To" tutorials

All tutorial and supplementary posts and what they contain are listed in the Masterlist. Thank you for your attention, I hope it was helpful, and if you have questions send an ask or message me.

Part 1 | Tutorial Masterlist | KoFi

#scrivener #tutorial #writing #tool #resource #adhd #adhd friendly #neurodivergent #neurodivergence #neurodiversity #extended tutorial #extension #part 2

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daydream-believin · 4 years

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The Never Ending Roadtrip (tie the knot)

summary: (part 1) / (part 8) fem!reader joins Douxie on his quest for Nari’s safety, he’ll need company wont he? PART 7) two weddings in one day for our lovely wizard couple.

warning: swearing, maybe? prolly tho, alcohol, the us government

word count: 3149

a/n: the target audience here is def me. ahahjdd i hurt myself writing this, bon appetit

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Y/n let her eyes wander through the strange place. She supposed this was a pawn shop of sorts, but not one a mortal would patron. Or even know about. She wasn’t entirely sure how she got there herself. This was technically a basement. Grungy, yet somehow fancy? There was sand on the floor, and a giant floor to ceiling glass pane that made up an entire wall, letting patrons know they were in the bottom of the river Cohansey. Which would be beautiful, had this not been New Jersey. The water was murky, trash floating by with the occasional fish. Big, slimy green fish that looked like they could swallow an old lady’s chihuahua. Or maybe a toddler. There were shelves and shelves of either the shittiest junk you ever saw or things that looked like they belonged in an Egyptian tomb. Best not to touch anything. Y/n couldn’t clearly remember the entrance to this place, or entering, but that must have been a part of the concealment magic in place.

Douxie wasn’t kidding when he said they’d sign the papers tomorrow. He found himself acting fast, in case she changed her mind. She wouldn’t, of course. But just in case. While it would seem rushed to any outsiders, it didn’t feel so to him. Might as well have taken an eternity. A millennium. He had known her for years, was her best friend for years, he knew everything about her. She knew everything about him. It became much more apparent when suddenly she had the skill to do nothing but look at him and know something was amiss. Despite his best poker face he’d developed over the centuries, capable of fooling even the most observant of company. Not her. He had hoped she felt as strongly towards him as he her. He still had his insecurities and doubts, even if these rings could prove it.

He paid no mind to the big slimy green fish that flashed their large teeth to patrons. Douxie dug through the box of loose rings, looking for something specific, surely. Different enchantments, different curses, different styles, he needed to find the perfect pair. The sound of metal clattering was starting to become grating to the other patrons of the pawn shop. It was way too early for such clanging. Sure, it was afternoon, but still. Douxie had already found one for him, he just needed to dig around a little bit longer to find one for Y/n. He had already found several that could work, a bronze one shaped like tree branches around an emerald stone, a dainty silver braided band to bind, and an amethyst solitaire with calming qualities. None of these were right. Perhaps settling wouldn- Eureka, there it was. A nice gold band, the mate to the silver toned one for him, engraved with the matching runes, protection for them as they were together.

Douxie happily purchased the rings from the man behind the glass counter, to the relief of the other patrons. He found Y/n locked in a staring contest with one of those toothy fish. He pulled her away, assuring her that Fish don’t have eyelids, Love. Strange, she could have sworn that one did. He opened his palm, showing her the rings. She squealed, to the annoyance of the other patrons. They needed to get out of her before someone kicked them out.

They didn’t have to spend anything on dress/tux rentals, all thanks to Hisirdoux brand magic clothes. Y/n did manage to squeeze Archie into a little bowtie, much to the dragon-cat’s dismay. Y/n made sure to get a snapshot of it for archie_the_emo_kitty. Unlike Archibald, Nari was more than willing to boast formal wear. With all those wedding dresses she’d looked at with Y/n in mind, she begged Douxie to give her a little poufy green dress. Doux snuck in some smoky quartz as beading. Just a little extra protection never hurts. She was a very happy forest child, and spent a lot of time spinning around and around, fascinated by how the fabric flounced. She was very eager to do her part once Y/n explained to her what a flower girl was. Nari was going to be the best girl of flowers. Flowers grew from her hair.

The bowtie wrestled around Archie’s little neck matched the one around Douxie’s. Archie was technically the best man, of course. Some might think having a cat as your best man a bit sad, but there was no truer friend than Archie. And while Archie made them believe he was disgruntled at his state, this was only to preserve his pride. He would do anything if to make his brother, his familiar, smile. Even wearing a stupid blue bowtie and standing next to him during some sort of ceremony. Archie had to admit, he was surprised. Well, not surprised about them marrying, just that it was happening so soon. He knew his wizard’s heart could get ahead of him sometimes, so what was really surprising was learning that miss L/n proposed it. Perhaps those two were more alike than he knew.

Douxie looked really good in his suit, Y/n thought. Of course, anyone looks good in one, but Douxie looked extra good. Very handsome. It wasn’t a tuxedo, but he still opted for black with a little blue embroidery, and of course the blue bowtie. Very classic Douxie. Y/n wouldn’t have it any other way. He tried slicking back his hair but Y/n stopped him. No need to hide that perfect fringe, thank you. She braided a few of the strands down the side of it but not enough to obstruct it. There, that was good enough. Different but still the classic Douxie look. He laughed as she fussed with it. Some wildflowers he and Y/n picked earlier that morning were pinned to his lapel.

Y/n held a bunch of the same wildflowers in her hands. Not exactly a bouquet, but enough. She and Doux had woven some of them into crowns for each other to wear, respectively, for the day. It was a trollish tradition she thought was adorable. Picking the flowers together, weaving them into headpieces for the other to wear, a sort of unity thing. How beautiful.

Y/n actually made her own dress without Douxie’s help, as seeing the bride in her dress before the wedding was bad luck, after all. Douxie had taught her the spell, and she had been practicing an awful lot. It wasn’t perfect, but it did turn out to be exactly what she wanted. Y/n ran her hands down her sides, Not too frilly, not too sexy. Soft, sweet and romantic. And her. It looked like her. She hoped Doux would like it. He did.

She left her hair down. Douxie had made a comment once, way back when, that he thought it looked beautiful loose. She hadn’t meant for him to see it then. Douxie liking it was hard for fathom, considering her aunt had drilled into her head that loose hair was for loose minds, silly people not to be taken seriously. One’s hair should only be down when bathing or changing, especially not around others. In a way, leaving her hair loose like this was an expression of intimacy.

While they went to sign the papers officially in the eyes of the US government, the real wedding was out in the forest, with the trolls. Still, they figured they should tie their legal identities together, it’s not like a troll can actually officiate. Despite their legal identities being temporary and they would definitely have to forge new documents in half a century, they needed this for taxes and all that jazz. Y/n was going to make Douxie combine their bank accounts eventually. An efficient end to their ‘no, let me pay’ fights. But now wasn’t the time for finances. This was about love. And despite this not being the real wedding, Y/n still felt giddy.

The air in the courthouse smelled like dust and tobacco, and it felt like vague memories of confusion and bureaucracy. Strange memories, yet somehow nostalgic. At first the employees weren’t going to let Archie into the building, but once Douxie picked him up and showed him off, explaining that he was the best man, they couldn’t help but let him and his little bowtie in. That’s the thing about being cute, you often get away with murder.

Standing in front of the judge was daunting, even though Douxie knew he did nothing wrong. This time. He was just here to sign that marriage license. What a wonderful piece of paper, covered in calligraphy, stating that he legally belonged to Y/n and Y/n legally belonged to him. Such a fragile thing, in his hands. He would preserve it. Save it for centuries. The witness was a stranger, but that didn’t matter. Archie was the real witness, but alas cats have no power in court. Y/n blushed under Douxie’s gaze as they signed their names to the document. She looked ethereal in that dress, with the flowers in her hair. Even thought they were in a stuffy courtroom with people paying for traffic tickets, she was a goddess, standing here next to him, signing her soul to him. He would return the gesture with his whole chest. And he did.

They slipped the rings onto each other’s fingers, and it was done. Douxie looked back into Y/n’s eyes. His wife’s eyes. His heart may have stopped with that thought. His wife’s eyes.

Y/n was vibrating with energy as they left the courthouse. It was infectious, and soon Douxie was bouncing on his toes too. They couldn’t help but keep smiling. This was just the beginning. Time for the ceremony. Well, at least neither of them had to worry about cold feet. Y/n squeezed Douxie’s hand three times as they set off for the forest. He returned the gesture, kissing the top of her head for good measure.

Once they arrived at the shaded area the trolls had gathered in, Y/n sucked in a breath. It was just, so lovely. They were sitting in a circle, the center being where the wedding couple were to stand. Wildflowers decorated the ground. Nari had made sure they were arranged nicely. While Y/n didn’t know all of these trolls, she was delighted that most of her old pals were here. A few weren’t, but only because they hadn’t made it through the eternal night a few months ago. Surely their spirits were here. The atmosphere felt too much like love and support for them to not be. One of the trolls was strumming a lute of some sort. There was a baby troll who looked like they must have been carried here while they were napping and was now bewildered as to what was going on. Douxie may not know many of the trolls himself, but their presence felt right. And it made Y/n happy. A perfectly good reason for anything nowadays.

Y/n hooked her arm through Douxie’s as he led her to the center of the circle. The gentle lute music played as they kneeled, ready to begin. The music stopped and the officiant started. The officiant was an older troll, who could’ve rivaled Vendel in terms of ancientness. Neither Douxie nor Y/n payed him much attention, locked in each other’s gazes as he read off the sacred trollish wedding texts. A breeze blew through, blowing their hair, and a strand stayed in Y/n’s eyes even after it stopped. Douxie gently brushed it away, and was so caught up in the tender action he almost missed the officiant ask him to join his hand with Y/n’s.

“We are gathered here to witness the binding of two souls. Do you, Hisirdoux Casperan, and you, Y/n L/n, come here of your own free will, to be bound to each other in life and love for the rest of eternity?”

“Aye” Douxie and Y/n offered in unison.

“Then it shall be done.” The officiant tied the handfasting ribbon around their joined hands. A golden light shone through the ribbon, a little bit of magic.

Douxie placed his free hand under Y/n’s jaw. “You are the blood of my blood and the bone of my bone. I give you my body, and I give you my spirit. May you always drink from my cup. May I always be by your side through life and though that which comes after.” I will protect you always My Love.

Y/n was somehow able to catch her breath long enough to repeat the words back to him. “You are the blood of my blood and the bone of my bone. I give you my body, and I give you my spirit. May you always drink from my cup. May I always be by your side through life and though that which comes after.” You’ll never be lonely again Dewdrop.

“May the union now be sealed” Douxie and Y/n took this as a ‘you may now kiss the bride’ as trolls don’t kiss. Y/n was pretty sure trolls touched foreheads instead, as she’d seen Blinky and Arrgh do that often. She did as such to Douxie before kissing him. It slightly confused him, but he still recognized the affection.

There was no one there but them. Douxie deepened the kiss, melting into his beloved, his wife. Y/n matched it with fervor, but pulled away just as fast, almost making him whine. He opened his eyes, getting ready to pout, but was knocked back into remembering where he was. Oh, yeah, there actually were other people. His bad.

As the sun went down and the reception started, many trolls said many things and yet Douxie had no idea what was being said. He found it very hard to focus on anything that was not Y/n in this moment. A celebration was being had, yet the only important thing was the hand clasped in his and the cool feeling of metal he would soon get used to. He couldn’t wait to get used to it, as if it were nothing but a part of his skin. He could vaguely make out what song the lute troll was currently playing, one that reminded him of his younger years, and boy, did he feel young next to Y/n.

He led her into a dance, as this was a song perfect for dancing, of course. Y/n laughed. She hadn’t expected their first dance to start so soon. The light of the setting sun cast an orange glow as they flitted around joyously. At the end of the song, Douxie lifted Y/n and spun her around. A few nearby trolls, already drunk on bright green grog, raised their mugs and gave a cheer. A toast, one supposes. Y/n giggled at how quickly Douxie put her down after that, face flushed.

The red, orange, and yellow leaves of the trees around them seemed to be amplified by the sunset. It was one of the most beautiful things Y/n had seen, and perfect ambience for the best day of her life. The sound of the lute songs, birds chirping, and trolls chattering was the sound track. She’d play it on repeat if she could. She could feel Douxie’s shoulder brushing hers, and smell the comforting scent of cloves that clung to him. With every peck she could taste the red wine on his lips.

Now that the sun had gone down, magic candles were lit throughout, lighting the festivities. The trolls took this as the signal to bring out the food and start the feast. And feast they did. Nari was very interested in their food, and while Y/n wasn’t very positive she should let the veggie lady eat half of whatever this stuff was, Y/n didn’t care to police her this day. Nari can suffer the consequences of her curiosity for once. Y/n was too busy being wrapped up in Doux.

There was a very tall cake, resting on a flat rock. Must be one of Jim’s recipes he taught them while he was with them. Or it was a traditional troll recipe. No matter, wizard digestive systems are pretty strong and stranger things had been eaten. It was decorated beautifully, with the wildflowers and florets of what was either icing or plaster. Either way it would be delicious, whether it be made with flour and spices or gypsum and cat blood. Whatever it was, it smelled heavenly as Y/n smashed it into Douxie’s pretty face.

He should have been expecting that. He had hoped she’d be sweet and gently feed him but he supposed the temptation was too great for his mischievous bride. A cheshire cat grin replaced his adoring expression as he grabbed a glob himself and smeared it across her features in retaliation. Y/n burst out laughing, grabbing him by the collar to kiss him and get them even more messy. Douxie’s lips tasted sweet, so it must be one of Jim’s icing recipes. Archie was glad he over by the rock and not next to them, in the splatter zone.

The dancing lasted all night. The candles, the full moon, and the stars cast a romantic glow to the celebration. The full moon was the perfect moon, a blessing for their big day. Douxie was very thankful for lute troll, this is exactly what he pictured his wedding sounding like when he was a boy. He twirled Y/n around effortlessly and endlessly, he wasn’t sure he’d ever tire of this. Her soft hands in his, he absolutely knew he’d never tire of. The trolls taught them a few of their traditional dances too, Y/n seemed to really have fun with those. At one point, Y/n danced with Nari, a cheerful little ditty, and Douxie thought it was the new most adorable thing he’s ever seen. It was cuteness overload, he may have to go sit down for a bit and let his heart catch up with him. However, It wasn’t long before Y/n pulled him back onto the dance floor once again.

After the feast was devoured, conversation lulled, and the music faded, the trolls packed up and headed back to trollmarket. The light of the candles was getting dim. Still, Douxie and Y/n stayed, swaying in each other’s arms. The music may have left, but they didn’t need it. They hummed to each other as Douxie leaned over to Y/n’s ear, to sing her a song he had written for her, not too long ago. She could feel his breath on the shell of her ear as he whispered the words meant just for her. Y/n let her eyes slip closed as this man, her husband, sang his heart to her in this private moment. She wished she had a poem prepared for him. Sure, she’d written plenty, but none of the words seemed quite strong enough anymore.

#hisirdoux casperan x reader #hisirdoux casperan imagine #hisirdoux x reader #douxie x reader #douxie imagine #douxie x y/n #douxie casperan x reader #douxie casperan imagine #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #douxie casperan #tales of arcadia x reader #my writing #nert

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badb1tchbokuto · 4 years

Text

Ch. 2 Alone, Together - Miya Atsumu x You

chapter 1: here

(crossposted on ao3)

warnings: mild smut, alcohol, mentions of time skip

wc: 3.7k

As if you had sensed his worries, your eyes flutter open. “You okay?” You groggily whisper. Knowing he’s on borrowed time, he scoots down to level his face with yours and kisses you deeply. “Yeah baby, no worries.” He breathily responds as your hands begin to wander from his chiseled abdomen to his navel and down to the tufts of hair trailing to his boxer briefs.

At this point Atsumu knows he’s completely, utterly, royally fucked.

⳾⑅❀⑅❀⑅❀⑅❀⑅❀⑅⳾

Atsumu tried. He really, really did.

Standing on the tiny kitchenette of his shared hotel suite with Bokkun(who was off spending time with Akaashi), he hangs up the phone after a long Facetime session with Samu guiding him on how to make the best onigiri and miso soup.

It really shouldn’t have taken that long. All he had to do was wash the rice, pop it into the mini rice cooker stowed in the counter, cut some fresh tuna, sear the rest, then assemble it all into balls along with the seasoning, condiments and nori.

He’d know how to make miso soup even if he was blindfolded. All he had to do was mix in the ingredients he bought on a small pot of water. Dashi, miso paste, diced silken tofu, sliced green onions, some more nori, all dropped in at different times and simmered to get the perfect taste. Plus, this was one of the first dishes their ma taught them how to make before he and Samu moved away.

Really, it should have been a breeze. He’d made onigiris for himself countless of times before, admittedly nowhere near as tasty as the ones Osamu makes, but they were still edible.

This time, however, it had to delicious. Mouthwatering, perfect.

For the umpteenth time, Atsumu is picking off the nori on the last rice ball, wrapping and rewrapping, then wrapping again because the nori just wasn’t hugging the rice in a fashion uniform to the seven others arranged in front of him.

“Why does it look so weird??” He frustrates.

Atsumu’s mind replays, yet again, to your shared conversation at the club. Specifically to the part where he realizes he didn’t really know how to talk about himself outside of volleyball. He surmises at this; a gnawing, alarming thought of wondering whether he really knew himself at all.

Three hours ago...

“How do I usually describe myself?” He repeatedly thinks as he wanders down the seemingly endless aisles of Isetan’s Depa-Chika, scouring for the exact brands of ingredients Samu instructed him to buy.

Lost somewhere in the frozen food section, Atsumu pushes a half filled cart in reverie. He resolves then and there to get to know himself, whatever that means or entails. Not just so he can talk to you or anyone new for that matter, but honestly more so to know how to articulate to himself who he really is in private. Without the cameras flashing, without the people buzzing, without having to watch himself through others’ incredibly varied perceptions of him, without using his brother or his friends and teammates as a crutch, however difficult or impossible that seems.

He takes his time at the store, tediously combing the shelves for a special kind of mirin Osamu swears by, then proceeds to have an internal debate whether he should choose chutoro or otoro (he chooses otoro, the fattiest and therefore the tastiest in his opinion), his supposedly quick trip to the grocery store devouring more than an hour of his time.

It is now 7:15pm.

You’re supposed to arrive in fifteen minutes, but Atsumu still hadn’t even showered, hadn’t even cleaned up the kitchen, hadn’t even finished wrapping that last stubborn rice ball.

The hotel phone rings and Atsumu panics.

It’s the concierge alerting him of your arrival. Sending you up, Atsumu races around the small space in a haste, swiping the counter and dining table with disinfectant, racing to throw empty packages into the bin.

The doorbell rings and Atsumu is sweating.

He’s an athlete for fuck’s sake, why did running around for less than a minute knock his breath out like that?

“I’m coming!” He yells, or tries to. What comes out is a cracked, high pitched attempt, sounding much like a prepubescent boy going through rapid hormonal changes. He cringes, mortified.

Atsumu hears you trying to stifle a giggle.

He clears his throat, repeats in his signature silky voice, then runs to open the door.

You’re smiling sheepishly, the tip of your nose frosty from the autumn chill, all bundled up in a casual outfit that somehow knocks Atsumu’s breath out.

“My share of dinner!” You announce, arms stretched out with a box of wagashi and a bottle of nigori sake.

“Yer’ so frickin cute,” he dotes. He can’t help himself, he snakes an arm on your waist and pulls you in for a gentle kiss.

“Yer’ early, missed me that much already?” He whispers teasingly on your lips.

You laugh as you kiss him back, gently patting his cheek as a response before pulling away. Funny how it seems like he’s the one who missed you that much...

Atsumu sneakily sniffs his shirt as you take off your shoes at the genkan.

“Oh no...” Not musty, but he reeks of kitchen smoke, aburi tuna and dried sweat.

“Need ta’ shower real quick.”

“Oh sorry, want me to come back in a bit?”

He digresses. “No no. Gimme a minute, come in and get comfy.”

He excuses himself, leaving you in the kitchen as he rushes to the bathroom.

You look around the hotel suite, kitchenette roughly cleaned, flecks of nori and furikake smattering the floor but otherwise spotless. The cramped countertop had a steaming pot laid next to a row of neatly arranged onigiri on two plates, decorated with vegetables jaggedly cut in what you assume are attempts at flower patterns.

It’s a simple dinner, you know. But you still can’t help but be impressed that Atsumu put in that much effort, that much care in making you a homemade dinner. On your first date no less.

You smile, butterflies fluttering in your belly at the thought that this callous, reckless, stupidly tall and handsome man is being domestic just for you.

Pulling out your phone, you send a quick text to Kaori and Yukie, gushing over how cute Atsumu is and even sending them a quick snapshot of the onigiri he plated with special care. “Get it!!!” Kaori enthusiastically replies. “Send a ‘1’ by midnight if it’s good and give us a play by play tomorrow. ‘2’ if we need to fake an emergency asap!” Yukie responds, ever the more calculating but motherly one.

As Atsumu massages purple shampoo on his tresses, he elucidates a fact about him he already knows is true on court that he supposes could be said the same of him off it.

1. Miya Atsumu is a perfectionist.

He practices for hours daily to hone his craft, has been doing so since the fourth grade really. At first just to spite Samu, but then he just suddenly fell in love with volleyball.

To Atsumu, nothing short of absolute perfection qualifies when it comes to dedicating himself to the things he cares about. It is through this philosophy that he is now one of Asia’s top setters, that he’s certain anyone who can’t receive his set is a scrub; a roaring confidence gained from knowing he puts his all to whatever he chooses to set his mind to, whether that’s volleyball or cooking dinner for a very cute girl he finds himself wanting to impress and spend more time with.

He frowns upon remembering that one of the onigiris he made is lopsided, that he didn’t even have time to shower and properly clean up before you arrived, that the atmosphere you walked in on your first official date with Miya Atsumu the perfectionist, wasn’t, well...perfect.

He thinks about this as he readies himself, spraying on the woodsy, smoky vanilla perfume he swore you wore when you first met. He usually reserves the scent for special occasions, but he believes that this counts as one.

Atsumu finds you in the kitchen, fixated on trying to salvage the onigiri he was having trouble wrapping earlier.

He leans over your shoulder, and though your nerves are in haywire and the butterflies in your stomach seem to keep multiplying, you instinctually lean back into him. Atsumu smiles as he drapes his arms around you from behind, thumbs brushing up and down the bare sliver of skin on your hip.

Your mind is a blur, every thought suddenly jumbled and incoherent. All that’s left is you anticipating, thrilling where Atsumu will move his fingers next on your heating body. Dropping his head on your shoulder and finally getting a closer whiff of your sexy scent, he whispers teasingly close to your ear.

“Sorry for the wait, ya’ ready to fall in love with me?”

You swiftly turn around and pull him into a deep kiss as an answer.

——

By the time you’ve moved to sit at small table by the kitchen, your lips are sweetly swollen and your clothes are wrinkled. Atsumu is panting, hair even more tousled and a small love bite is beginning to bloom on his right collarbone.

You stare at him, mesmerized at how he seems to look even more gorgeous unkempt.

“Why don’t cha take a picture babe, it’ll last longer.” He smirks then sticks his tongue out to pose, ego inflating at catching you ogling him.

You quip. “Sure, can I take naked ones after?”

“Aww, you’re so polite. Whatta’ good girl. You don’t need to ask. I’ll gladly give them to you for free, even throw in a lil show if ya want.” He leans closer, resting his head on his flexed, chiseled propped arm, smirking a little more mischievously as he gazes at you in challenge.

You can almost see his ego rapidly inflating like a balloon, and naturally, you kind of want to pop it.

In your best faux posh British accent, you offer. “A most forthcoming and lucrative offer mister Miya. What do you say I start and manage an OnlyFans account for you?”

You giggle uncontrollably as the look on his face changes instantly from confidence to confusion.

Brows furrowed and lips formed into a tiny pout, he concludes. “It’s a good thing yer so cute, yer a weirdo.”

You laugh, snorting a little. Atsumu chuckles at this, finding your little quirk amusing and rather irresistible.

“Keep the accent though, it’s kinda hot.” You kick him under the table and continue to banter as you both set up the table.

Atsumu watches expectantly as you take the first sip of the miso broth. The soup is delicious, and as soon as you tell him this he visibly relaxes.

The onigiris’ fillings however, are inconsistent. On the first one, the filling oozes out whenever you take a bite. On another, there’s barely any tuna and a ton of furikake. You decide to spare him your criticisms and just enjoy the meal he so graciously prepared.

Still, your heart just feels so damn full.

You make sure to repeatedly compliment Atsumu on his cooking to show appreciation for his efforts, the first time anyone has ever cooked for you on a date and the first time he(and not his pro-chef brother! Ha!) has ever been acknowledged for his culinary efforts.

Dinner is pleasant, both of you exchanging stories of varied life experiences.

You talk about the places you’ve lived in, your childhood, life in university. Atsumu actively listens, enchanted with how different your upbringing was in comparison to his, especially since he’d forgone college and went pro immediately after being scouted in high school. Despite the stark differences, he asks a ton of questions; some in confusion as he asks you to clarify or talk about certain details you purposely leave out.

You notice that he’s very observant, so you casually comment it.

Atsumu decides then that yes, it’s true. He makes a mental note to add this to the little list he’s crafting in his head about who he is.

2. Miya Atsumu is observant.

He thinks that you literally could have told him he was a seaweed and he would have agreed just because he is so transfixed by your mere presence and voice, but he knows this to be true on court for him as well. How else would he sync up with his spikers? How else would he know which serve to use and how to to angle his sets best? Through thorough studying and keen awareness of his teammates’ likes, dislikes, mannerisms and ticks, he is able to turn a seemingly mismatched chaotic group like the Black Jackals into synchronized raging monsters, dancing to a tune in which he is the lone orchestrator.

Atsumu is earnest in asking you questions about your life; his genuine interest coaxing you to share seemingly inconsequential details you intentionally initially skip over, snippets of your upbringing you thought were too boring to even mention, some too painful to share. Hesitantly at first, then comfortably as Atsumu intently listens. You don’t know why he takes a keen interest in you to that degree, but you come to learn that Atsumu is transparent and rather straightforward. He asks because he wants to know.

You relax, feeling touched and appreciated as you realize that he seems to just want to know every little thing about you, even the parts of you that you think are boring, unimportant or unworthy.

The conversation shifts to more light hearted topics as you both begin to indulge on the dessert and sake you brought.

Feeding you half of a red bean wagashi he swears is the best one, Atsumu continues to tell you about shenanigans from his volleyball team, particularly the initiation ritual of being ambushed to sing a full song at one’s first team dinner with a hot pink wireless karaoke mic on full blast.

“Bokkun, Omi, and Shoyou weren’t even there yet and I didn’t know anyone my age since they were all older than me.. I was only eighteen! They told me I couldn’t eat dinner and had to sit in a different table if I didn’t do it.. and I had 10 seconds to pick a song! A western one at that because Adriah and Oliver had to understand too and they didn’t speak Japanese then..”

Imagining a younger Atsumu with a bad dye job nervously trying to think of a song to sing out loud in public, you laugh as he describes in detail how awkward the whole ordeal was. You wonder if any of the older members have a video of this, making sure to ask Meian if you ever have the opportunity to see the team again.

He recounts how shameless Bokuto and Hinata were when they had to do it, with Bokuto even doing an encore with a dance routine that resulted in them being banned from a restaurant in Kyoto. You’re both dying of laughter as he wheezes out how Sakusa almost gave up his career upon realizing he had to do it as well. Thankfully his team sort of pitied him and let him sing to a small izakaya in Sendai instead of the mega hotel restaurants they usually celebrate in.

As the night progresses, you and Atsumu end up sitting side by side, legs touching due to the close proximity of your chairs, holding hands, and sharing sweet sake flavored kisses in between laughs.

After some time, the kisses start to linger, becoming more heated. It’s when you subtly lick Atsumu’s tongue then slowly bite and suck on his full lower lip that he loses control and pulls you into his lap. Straddling him, you keep one hand on his chest to steady yourself as you move your other hand to brush his soft hair out of his face. “You’re so beautiful.” You whisper as you stare into his half lidded hazel eyes before leaning in to kiss him.

Atsumu flushes at this. It’s the first time he’s been called beautiful. Handsome? Sure. Sexy? Even more often. But beautiful? It feels intimate, leaving him vulnerable and exposed in a way that seems to transcend the physical. He revels in this as he lavishes you with open mouthed kisses, starting from just below your ear and moving down your neck, his wet lips ghosting over the hollow of your throat to just above your cleavage. You mewl, aching to feel more of him, subconsciously grinding your hips on his lap where you can feel him bulging out of his sweatpants.

Atsumu moves one of his hands from your waist, brushing his large knuckles up your torso until it reaches the underside of your breasts. You notice that despite his kisses growing more desperate and him feeling fully erect under you, he hasn’t made a move to further the heavy petting. Respecting his boundaries, you ask. “Everything okay? We don’t have to go all the way if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Oh fuck.. sorry, yea, I’m good.” He kisses your lips again as his hands rub up and down your bare sides, your sweater having ridden up a while ago. “Trust me, I want you. So bad. I’m just tryin' to hold myself back for once.”

“Huh? Why?”

“I wanted to take my time.” He gently pecks your forehead, then your nose, and then back to your lips. He does this while looking at you eye to eye, a stark contrast to the steamy make out session you were just having. Atsumu’s gaze becomes smoldering as his eyes move to your lips again. “I don’t know why, but I just know I’ll get addicted to ya’.”

You grab the wrist that’s placed on your waist, unfurling his long, elegant fingers. Atsumu is watching you in intense curiosity as you take his pointer and middle digits, pulling them up slowly to your mouth and sucking, all while looking up at him. Instantly, Atsumu groans and you’re positive you can feel his member twitch against your crotch.

You release his fingers with a pop, then lick the length slowly, gaze never leaving his as his focus struggles in anticipation of what you'll do next.

You guide his digits by dragging them from your exposed torso and up to the curves of your breasts to your hardening buds straining your lace bralette, his wet fingers leaving a slight translucent trail of saliva on the expanse of your stomach. Before Atsumu can twist his fingers to pay attention to your nipples, you hold his wrist and move the fingers down your torso, pushing past the elastic waistband of your pants. With your hand over his, you splay his saliva coated fingers against your dampening underwear, stroking your mound before resting the two fingers over your labia, coaxing your slick slit to open. Atsumu’s pupils are dilated, his breathing heavy and his other hand gripping your hips so tightly you can feel bruises starting to form as he tries his best to control himself.

“I’m afraid time is the one thing we both can’t afford Atsumu. But please, have me. Fuck me. Take your fill.”

It’s all the confirmation he needs as he moves your panties aside, circling his fingers on your throbbing clit before sliding them seamlessly inside your tight, soft walls.

It’s not until much, much later, after you’ve had sex in the kitchen, then on his bed, then in the bathroom as you both intended to clean up, then finally cuddling back in his bed before falling asleep that Atsumu remembers the rest of what you said right before he lost all coherent thought.

Why can’t we afford time? Why don’t we have the time? Surely you’re both busy with your careers, but you’re someone he finds himself liking more and more. And now that you’re here, with your head on his chest, one arm wrapped around his bare torso and one leg intertwined with his, he thinks that this feels too good, too perfect, to not keep chasing, and he’ll be damned if he didn’t make time for more moments like tonight.

As his thoughts lull him to sleep, he remembers why time is beyond both of your control.

He's only in Tokyo for volleyball - for the league match they just won and now to train with the Olympic team for an upcoming friendly match in Shanghai. You’re here temporarily too, on a project with a definitive deadline that will not only mark the end of your stay in the country, but signal the end of you seeing him. Possibly forever.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

At this point, Atsumu knows he’s completely, utterly, royally fucked.

You’re both on borrowed time, but now that he’s had a taste of what it’s like to spend time with you, to be inside you, to just be with you, he knows that this growing hunger for you is insatiable. He thinks then that he finally understands Samu when he rambles about gradually getting hungrier and hungrier when watching others eat. His appetite for volleyball had always been there, like second skin and breathing. But for the longest time he didn't realize that seeing lovers around him display genuine affection towards each other(from his ma and pa, Bokuto and Akaashi, Meian and his wife, Aran and his high school sweetheart), all build bonds that can only truly be forged by sharing and accepting each other's hopes, dreams, and vulnerabilities, is something that he was growing hungrier and hungrier for without even noticing. Up until he met you that is. As you pull away from his lips and begin to slowly kiss down his body, following the trail of where your hands have just wandered, he thinks, “fuck it.”

Just as he became a setter even though he initially intended to be a spiker, just as he chose to be a professional athlete instead of following a safe path to success in university, just as he contorts and bends over his body in random, sometimes painful ways to make sure his spikers have the best sets, and just as he adjusts and twists routined plays in order to beat opponents, he knows then.

3. Miya Atsumu is a risk taker.

He’d been luckily winning his gambles so far, it’s about time he try his luck in love.

#Miya Atsumu x you #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x y/n #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu x female reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #hq x you #haikyuu fic #hq fics #miya atsumu #atsumu #thanks for reading!

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lokidrabbles · 4 years

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Keep On Believing (Loki x Reader)

Reader and Loki share a piece of their past with each other. A/N: I’ve had this stuck on my head for a while and I feel happy finally putting it down somewhere. Thank you all for the surge of followers and feedback on my stories! I’ve been using them to keep me focused on something enjoyable for me :) As always, Gender Neutral Reader! Warnings: None! Fluff n’ such!

In the oddest of spectacles, Loki was seated in your living room, leg crossed over the other, sorting through a pile of photos you had insisted he take a look at. For what he figured was another way for humans to bond, he begrudgingly agreed and was now flipping through a variety of Polaroids he best referred to as ‘photographic illusions.’ Within these, a peek at your childhood and youth caught his interest, curious to learn exactly where you had come from. He observed through the many photos which included birthdays, holiday dinners, vacations, beach days and many more.

With two cups of warm tea, you soon came back into the living room, plopping a seat next to him on the couch. You placed both cups on your small coffee table, leaning over to catch at what Loki was peering at.

“Just so you know, those things in my teeth were there so they could straighten out.” You explained as he squinted at a photo of you, sometime in your elementary and braces years.

“Ah. I didn’t realize human dentures came out misaligned.” He said, flipping through a couple more.

“Only sometimes. What do you think though? Interesting to see how different I ended up looking.”

“From my introspection, I’d want to say that you were quite the attention seeking child. See, here.” He said, showing you a small photo of you with a long forgotten childhood cousin. “From the way your hand is laid on this other child’s chest, I’m suspecting you were shoving them aside to be the main subject matter.”

You snorted. “Very impressive. I was super egoistic when I was younger, but I’m glad that trait didn’t last long.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” He sneered as you playfully shoved his shoulder. He continued to sort through and came upon another photo which piqued his interest.

“You mind elaborating as to why you are dressed like...a squash?”

“Pumpkin. Also because it was Halloween. I guess you can say that’s out bastardization of some Pagan traditions.”

“It doesn’t appear like you were having a good time here.” He said, pulling the photo closer to his face.

“Oh no. I hated that costume but my mother was insistent about taking a picture.”

Loki chuckled to himself. “This sour face is quite familiar however. I think you still have a tendency to pout like that when I am intentionally ignoring you.”

You furrowed your brows. “Intentionally?”

“Oops. Did I say that?”

Loki braced for another playful jab at his side once he saw that pout forming once more. You continued to ramble on about your distinct hate for this Halloween costume as Loki flipped through a couple of more brief snapshots of your childhood. This was a new experience for him, albeit a tad strange. The use of photographic illusions wasn’t present back in Asgard, and for the aesir, there really wasn’t much need to have a tangible piece of time like this. Although his memory doesn’t remember every single detail of his younger years, it was still much more vivid than any human’s, and that was impressive to say for someone who was over one thousand years old.

He couldn’t deny your eagerness with all of it however. He observed how excited you had become to share your history with him, and how each small piece of glistening paper had brought back a memory that had been long forgotten. A part of him envied your fondness of your own past, especially with anything having to do with your family. Indeed this was the most bizarre part for him. Aside from his childhood and unconditionally loving mother, things didn’t exactly pan out that well for him. Of course he still struggled with obtaining the full responsibility of his own actions, but this was a part of his history he wished to be entirely blacked out. He certainly wouldn’t show you these parts any time soon, as selfish as it was.

He focused back on your own past, looking over the young human who couldn’t have possibly fathomed the idea of building a connection with a man like him. You were cute as a child and he briefly imagined his own young self meeting you. He wondered if you both would have gotten along as well as you both did now. Maybe, in a different space and age.

“Would it be stupid of me to ask if Asgardians keep family photos as well?” You asked, poking him out of his trance.

“Only if that includes large frescoes of the royal family over heading the royal palace.” “That’s a bummer. I’ve always been curious to see little Loki.”

“Do you want to? It wouldn’t take much honestly.” He responded casually.

“Wait, what?” You asked, bewilderment in your face. “What do you mean?”

“You know I’m a sorcerer, correct? The art of casting illusions, specific ones at that, come almost second nature to me.”

Your eyes widened at the possibility. “Are you telling me you could cast down, like a memory or something like that?”

“Err, I suppose. I can concoct something specific, but of course it wouldn’t be the exact memory.”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, inching at the edge of your seat. “I mean, if it’s cool with you?”

“You’re too excited about this.” He said, eyeing you from top to bottom. “But it will be fine. Close your eyes however, the effect will be more potent like that.”

An inescapable grin cast between your cheeks as you shut your eyes intensely. Loki stood up, tugging at your arm to rise with him, and then beginning to conjure his seidr between his fingers. The green glow rose from his palm and began to cover the entirely of your living room like a thick coat of paint. As it dripped down, your plain walls soon became marbled and golden, mimicking the royal halls back in Asgard. Loki focused on a target memory, involving one of the many times he would often study his magic in the high gardens of Asgard. He purposefully chose a moment when it was just himself, still wanting to avoid exposing you to a painful part of his past. But for now, he figured you’d be more than satisfied with a snapshot of his youth.

“You can open your eyes now.”

Your eyes popped open immediately, darting back and forth, from side to side. Your mouth fell agape at the scenery in front of you. Your living room, with all its tacky decor, was now long gone, and soon replaced with a scene out of a fairy tale. It was a large indoor garden, garnished with a myriad of flowers, hanging vines, large overlooking leaves and a large fountain smack in the middle, flowing with gentle streams of water. At a small garden bench in front of the fountain, sat a small dark haired boy, legs crossed, flipping through a large archaic book. His hair was sleeked back and he wore a dark green robe rimmed with a golden hem. His gaze fell upon his readings, and you certainly could not mistake those inhuman green eyes.

Loki raised an eyebrow at your uncomfortable silence until he patted the top of your head. “You can breathe you know.”

“Loki, is that really you?” You responded incredulously.

“Obviously. This was a little hideout spot from Thor when he wouldn’t allow me to concentrate on my studies.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“Again, it’s only from the details I’ve been able to draw back on. Knowing how my mother tended these gardens, I’m sure I am missing much more here.”

“It’s still incredible.” You said while gently forward into the illusion. “Oh, Loki. You were so adorable as a kid!”

"I’ll gladly take that compliment.” He said with a smirk. He felt satisfied with how in awe you appeared at his little scene. While it would never beat having the possibility of showing you the real Asgard, this was just as pleasing. There was still much more he wanted to share with you, the good parts. His inward self however urged him to be cautious with how much he showed you, affirming it would push you away from him one way or another. Despite it, his nature allowed him to dwell in the self-gratifying moment of having you mull over his illusion.

“What exactly are you reading?” You asked, referring to his book.

“Just deepening my understanding of conjuring objects through pocket dimensions. Stuff that would surely bore you to death.”

“You got that right. You think that kid would have wanted to join me during Halloween?” You asked with another toothy grin.

“Only if you agreed to wear that ridiculous pumpkin outfit.”

“Then that will be a big no. Still, it’s incredible to believe this was probably hundreds of years before I was born.”

He nodded. “Did I ever imagine in a thousand years that I’d be stuck in Midgard with a foolish human? Definitely not.”

“Way to ruin the moment.”

He slowly waved his hand over the illusion, causing it to dissipate out of existence. The green glow tore holes through the enchanting scenery, burning all over until it reached the young Loki last. For a brief moment, the young Asgardian peered upwards, his eyes now instantly connected onto yours. You cheekily waved good bye to the young boy until he illusion completely came undone, and your plain living room was back in sight.

“That was amazing!” You said while clapping your hands in a keenly manner. “Can you cast anything else? Oh, what about when-”

Loki shoved a finger onto your lips, instantly shushing you. “Don’t be greedy. I’m not opted to show this just to anyone. Besides, it does tire me when I use my seidr in such a way.”

You nodded slowly and understandingly. “Ah.”

He was quick to catch your eagerness in your bright eyes soon fall over. “I’ll be sure you more at some other time. You have my word.”

You nodded rapidly this time. “Yes sir.”

He let out a deep breath, relieved at how easily you became content. “Very, well. I assuming you want to show me more of these ‘photos’.” He motioned over to the pile on your couch, taking a seat once more

“Only if you want to.” You said, joining him on the couch as well. “I didn’t realize how many I had.”

“What do you want, (Y/N)?”

“Oh! Let me just show you my cringe teenage years. I’ll give you permission to make fun of my style back then.”

“See, now those are the things I would be more than eager to take a gander at.”

You took a chunk of the pile and began to sort through various photos, determined to find something from those adolescent years. Loki wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as you began to point out a series of hair dyeing disasters. You looked ridiculous, but he continued to ground himself presently. Unbelievable, how you continued to be more than willing to share a part of your past with him (even the seemingly shameful moments). He began to process what type of scene or moment in time he’d capture in one of his illusions, making sure the next one would continue to encourage you to share yourself with him.

#loki #loki x you #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki imagine #loki imagines #loki pov #loki drabble #loki drabbles #loki laufeyson

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slightly-nerdy-rambles · 4 years

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Robstar Week Day 6: The Start of Forever (Prompt: Wedding Bells)

I love weddings. They’re just these big, happy, fun parties! So for this prompt I ended up going full self-indulgent mess and just sort of jumped in with very little plan... and I think what little plan I had didn’t even make it into the fic, whoops. The end result is less a single cohesive story than it is a series of events meant to evoke a sort of snapshot of these dorks’ wedding, and I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it.

(Note: You’re going to see a certain character here whose presence would make the Royal Family Verse go very differently, as I’ve had pointed out to me. Rest assured that I have not forgotten him in that ‘verse, and simply have different plans for him there than I do here.)

The Start of Forever

Penguin was really not having a good day.

It should have been an easy heist, or at least a relatively low-risk one. The Bat’s brat was getting married halfway across the country, which meant the whole posse was out for a couple days. And, sure, he’d made the mistake of getting cocky while Batman was away before, but this thing was a big deal – something about alien royalty, he hadn’t been keeping track of the specifics – and the way he figured, the only buddies of the big guy who wouldn’t also be there were the small-fry or the newbies of the Justice League. Still formidable to common criminals, of course, but to veterans who’d been dealing with the Bat himself for years? His gang could handle it.

But now here he was, his thugs already captured, his trick umbrella wrecked, and fleeing for what was beginning to feel uncomfortably like his very life. He could hear footsteps behind him, and he knew it was only a matter of time before –

There was the lasso. Before he could even try to dodge it, he was bound up tight and thrown flat on his face.

Penguin glared at his captor as she stepped into view, calmly looping up the other end of the rope bound to him. “Aren’t you supposed to be at a wedding?” he grumbled.

Wonder Woman gave him a flat look. “This was the only way to convince my colleague it was safe to go. I was watching the ceremony live, and I’d like to get back to that, so let’s get this over with.”

With one hand, she pulled him up by the loop of rope around his torso and glared deeply into his eyes. “Where are you hiding the loot?”

********

“Yeah, I really can’t help but feel sorry for anyone who tries to mess with Gotham right now,” Wonder Girl said, pausing to take a drink from her glass. “Di might be tough in the field, but she loves a good wedding. I’m kind of surprised she even volunteered to city-sit.”

Batwoman chuckled and leaned back in her chair. “Part of me kind of hopes a supervillain shows up there, if one hasn’t already. Not only would it make a great story, but it would prove the old man right about not leaving the city vulnerable and Wonder Woman won’t have to be mad at him.”

The two women shared a good laugh at that, before settling in to watch events around them. The wedding was a very… unique affair, which was inevitable when one considered the couple in question. Starfire was still technically Tamaranean royalty, after all; her marriage to a prominent hero (or rather, another prominent hero) meant too much for relations between her home planet and Earth to host it under the privacy of civilian identities.

Not that most of the Titans Network weren’t used to going around in uniform off-duty, but it made things interesting when fancy tuxedos and dresses were paired with the masks. The resulting “badass masquerade” feel of the party was oddly suited to both the many superheroes and the handful of boisterous Tamaranean dignitaries that had managed to attend.

Across one very active dance floor, over at the head table, Beast Boy and Cyborg were starting up a chant. They’d already had all their silverware taken away after one too many rounds of “tapping the glass to make the bride and groom kiss,” but this had only slowed them down for about twenty seconds.

Amidst an increasingly disruptive chorus of “Do it, do it, do it,” Raven leaned over to Starfire’s side. “They’re going to keep doing that until you give in,” she muttered.

Nightwing looked over from her other side and pointed out, “If we do, it’ll only encourage them.”

Raven shrugged. “Your call.”

Starfire just smiled and turned toward her husband. (Her husband! X’hal, that sounded good.) “I believe it all depends on whether we want to,” she declared, right before leaning forward to give him a quick peck on the mouth. His half of the table promptly erupted into cheers.

“Mmm.” Nightwing gave her that goofy little smile that never got old, and then stood up and held out a hand to her.

“Come on, let’s head back to the dance floor before they start up again.” His smile widened as he added, “As much as I enjoy kissing you, I’d rather do it on our own terms.”

Starfire laughed a little as she accepted his offer, and together they made their way into the throng.

As befitting its hosts, the wedding reception was a mixed bag of American and Tamaranean traditions. In a general sense, there was plenty of overlap – good food, energetic music, and a whole lot of dancing. But it was still worth noting when the couple made their way past several tables of casually chatting guests only to come across a traditional Feasting table sprawled over with several Tamaraneans (and one specially-invited reporter who’d wanted to sample the local flavor of the royal half of the wedding).

The free-for-all had died down significantly by now, but one youth had planted himself cross-legged in the middle of the table and was munching happily – and completely in leu of a fork – on a slice of wedding cake. He perked up upon seeing Starfire, and promptly flew over to her.

“Sister!” he chirped, still clutching his cake. “This Earth dessert is very good! Do you think I can bring some back home after this?”

Starfire smiled good-naturedly and shared a knowing look with her husband. “You might have a hard time getting a wedding cake, but a normal one shouldn’t be a problem,” she said. “I can even give you a recipe Cyborg and I came up with that uses Tamaranean ingredients, if you would like.”

“Why don’t you join us when you’re done?” Nighwing offered. “Star says you’re pretty impressive on the dance floor, and I don’t think you two have had much family time yet.”

Wildfire grinned and nodded, but as he returned to the table, Starfire lifted a few inches off the ground and swung around to face Nightwing. That was another Tamaranean tradition – for the happy couple to fully embrace their rapturous joy by spending as much time in the air as possible – and one she was all too happy to indulge. A little impish smile crossed her face as she pulled him out to the center of the reception hall.

Oh, but he did look fetching. They had opted to dress in the wedding wear of each other’s cultures, and as much as she loved her lacy wedding gown, she loved even more how well it paired with the long, loose white sleeves and classic armored accents of his suit. Even his mask had been altered for the occasion – narrower and sleeker than normal, with a dark silver replacing the usual black edges and tiny flared accents at the corners.

“I must admit, I do not at all mind you having to wear such a handsome mask on a day like today,” she thought out loud, pulling close to him as the two began to move in beat with the music. Then, leaning in and speaking in a voice too low for anyone but him to hear, she added, “I wouldn’t mind if you continue to wear it tonight, either.”

Nightwing smirked at that, resting a hand on the back of her neck and pressing his forehead against hers as he twirled her around the dance floor. “Sorry Your Highness, but I fully intend to see you properly for our wedding night.” He considered that train of thought for a moment. “Although we might be able to bring it on the honeymoon.”

Starfire held back a snort of laughter, instead schooling her face into a mock pout. “It is less fun when you refuse to be flustered.”

A little smile crept into the edge of her expression. “And this is a poor time to start calling me ‘Highness.’ You’re technically a prince now.”

Nightwing’s smile broadened. “I still can’t quite get over the thought of that. Please feel free to remind me whenever you like.”

Now Starfire did laugh. Rising a little higher from the floor, she wrapped both arms around his waist and looked to him with a silent question.

Her husband (and thinking that was still absolutely delightful) knew her well – he just smiled again and secured both arms behind her shoulders in answer, allowing her to lift him off the ground with her. Together, they joined the flighted guests that twirled whimsically high above the rest of the party, sharing in the joy of their union for both their worlds to see.

#Teen Titans #Robin #Starfire #robstar #robstarweek #Beast Boy #Raven #Cyborg #Wildfire #I'm not gonna tag everyone with one or two lines we'd be here all day #The intrepid reporter may or may not be one Clark Kent #His coworkers still don't know how he and Lois managed to get an invite #Probably because she's all buddy buddy with Superman #lucky

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entamewitchlulu · 4 years

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ok so i saw a post that annoyed the shit out of me so i’m making my comments on my own post about it. not going to apologize for the length of this or the disorganization and ramblingness of it because I’m really annoyed.

anyway. someone made a post about hating “book culture people”. it annoyed me. first, let me remark on the thread’s points that i did agree with.

yeah. book elitists suck. people who interrupt your reading to say how amazing it is that people still read are annoying bitches. being into books isn’t what makes them bitches, tho.

people who shit on ebooks and audiobooks for not being “real books” also suck. i’m not arguing with that. they suck.

now to the parts i disagreed with that annoyed the goddamn shit out of me

ONE

The Point Made: “Most books suck”

My Response:

??? way to go shitting on an entire goddamn industry of hard working individuals who pour their hearts and souls into writing stories for YOU to enjoy. Most books do not in fact suck and if you think they do, maybe you’re reading the wrong damn books.

saying that “Most books suck” and we would lose nothing of value if we lost most of them is utterly horrifying for me to hear because one: again, it shits on the hard work of hundreds of thousands of people. Two, it shits on the reading interests of hundreds of thousands of people by implying that their reading choices are inherently awful and bad. Three, saying that losing large swaths of books would lose nothing of value from the cultural canon IS A FUCKING HORRIFYING TAKE.

I don’t care if you think that romance novel is trashy. Saying that nothing of value would be lost if it disappeared is not only rude to the author, rude to the readers who enjoyed it and found something to like about it, it’s also just -- what the fuck? I cannot believe I saw someone claiming to be a librarian responding to this post in the affirmative. If we lost large swaths of literature, trashy or no, that would be a devastating blow to the cultural record. Even if a book is terrible, it means something. It has meaning to who we are as people and what kind of stories we like to tell ourselves. I’m sure a lot of old timey novels that we still have copies of were once considered trash! Would it have been no great loss if Shakespeare’s plays were simply thrown away? If the epic of Gilgamesh was shattered before it could be learned from? Even the dumbest literature shows something about our culture, and someone who claims that most books are “extraneous” just makes me think that they’re the elitist here who thinks they know how to assign value and objective “goodness” to books.

I’ve read a fuck ton of books in my life! Reading used to be my all consuming special interest from age six to age fourteen before I got into other things. I read literally everything I could pull off the shelf. Hell, this year alone because of having to read so many children’s books for school, I’ve read somewhere around 85 books. They were from a huge variety of genres, fiction and nonfiction, from picture books to middle grade novels to YA to adult fiction, from fantasy and historical fiction to mainstream to classics to trashy romances. I say this not to brag because I don’t think the number of variety of books makes me better than anyone else. I only say this to show that I have seen a pretty decent chunk and scope of the available literature out there currently so I think I have a pretty good foundation for what I’m talking about.

Were all of the books I read good? No! But were most of them “awful, extraneous, and we’d lose nothing of value if they disappeared?” Holy shit no! Some of them weren’t my cup of tea. Some of them were poorly written. Some of them were probably just written for a paycheck. Some of them were culturally appropriative, clumsy at representation, or at the absolute worst, totally terrible bullshit. But most of them were decent. Most of them did the job they were supposed to do to tell the story they wanted to tell. A lot of them were enjoyable. All of them contributed some perspective on humanity, no matter how trashy they were, by giving us a window into what is important to people, what stories are important to our society, and adding to the cultural record about who we are, right now, in this snapshot of life.

Can you imagine how excited historians would be if they had access to as wide a breadth of literature from other eras as is available now? How many mass market books from the beginning of the printing press are gone now that would have been incredible looks into that era of history and what stories were found to be important? There were probably silly folktales in many of the ancient libraries of old that are gone forever, that people back then may have thought were dumb, useless, and said nothing about their culture - what historian wouldn’t KILL to have access to that “useless literature”?

Writing off nearly every book in existence because you think they’re all extraneous is enough to make my blood boil, but I think I’ve beaten that point enough.

TWO

The Point Made: people who have things like tote bags that say “books are the best” are dumb and it’s performative if you have one of those tote bags or mugs that imply at all that you enjoy reading, you’re clearly a terrible, performative annoying person who brags about all of the classics you read

My Response:

now here’s where the new brand of elitism really kicks in where y’all go like “yeah i like books but I’m not like those other icky readers ugh.” What the fuck is wrong with carrying a tote back that says “I <3 books”? Why are you all so quick to tear people down for daring to have fun, cute things that say innocuous, innocent things on them because they refer to things they like?

Again, when I was a kid? Reading was an all-consuming special interest. I inhaled books. I took home the max my library card would allow me every week. I carried tote bags with sayings on them about books. I wore library t-shirts.

It wasn’t performative. It was an expression of something that meant so much to me that I wanted to make it a part of my aesthetic and style.

Nowadays? I wear a lot of anime t-shirts. And I often see people, even my mutuals, say that it’s cringey or weird to do so. But you know what? Fuck that! It sparks fucking joy! I like wearing comfy t-shirts with cute graphics of my favorite characters on them! It makes me happy! I like having anime keychains on my keys, and using anime character lockscreens on my phone. I don’t do it to perform to others just how much I like my favorite characters, I do it because I PERSONALLY LIKE IT!! It’s not for you! It’s not to show off! It’s cause it makes me happy! I assure you that most people who like that aesthetic aren’t doing it to show off how cool they are for liking books, they just think the damn aesthetic is cute and it matches their interests.

Shitting on people for liking “book aesthetics” is literally one degree away from “not like other girls” and I cannot believe I have to see this new brand of elitism with my own two eyes. Stop assuming that things people do, the things they wear, the things that make them happy, are specifically to piss you off. It’s not about you.

If you don’t like the way someone talks to you about books, if you’re annoyed by their takes on ebooks, audiobooks, etc., say THAT! don’t throw entire swaths of people under the bus just because you’re annoyed with a handful of people for being annoying. There are annoying people in every hobby, it’s not indicative of something rotten with “”””the culture””””””. It’s indicative of assholes being in everything.

Anyway. Y’all say you’re against cringe culture and then you make something new to laugh at. It’s just replacing one brand of elitism with another.

Let people live their damn lives.

#i'm gonna regret making this post aren't i #i sat on it for three hours i think that stops it from being impulsive right #lulu talks #long post

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vannahfanfics · 5 years

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Snapshot

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Gintama

Characters: Gintoki Sakata, Tae Shimura

Requested by: Asperger Hero (Ao3)

“Hiiiii~!” Tae warbled cheerfully as she strolled casually into the Yorozuya only just seconds after she had knocked at the door. The three employees of the joint all greeted her with varying degrees of enthusiasm— her cute little brother acknowledged her happily, Kagura gave a muffled greeting through a mouthful of rice, and Gintoki just grunted and did not look away from his weather program. She had to suppose a grunt was better than nothing, considering how absorbed he always was in the daily report.

“What brings you here this morning, Big Sister?” Shinpachi inquired as she sat down at the table. Tae giggled as anticipation bubbled up inside of her. This visit wasn’t her average, everyday, just-happened-to-be-in-the-neighborhood house call. She grinned broadly as she produced a small camera from within the folds of her kimono.

“Look what I won in a work raffle! A Polaroid camera!”

“Whuzzat?” Kagura huffed as she swallowed a chunk of rice that would choke a normal person and leaned over the table to inspect the small device with curious eyes.

“It’s a camera that instantly prints a picture you take! Here, smile, Kagura,” Tae instructed as she put the camera up to her eye to focus. Kagura blinked before hurriedly striking a ridiculous pose, arms bent at odd angles and face twisted into a less-than-flattering expression. The flash burst as the shutter fluttered with Tae’s finger pressing down on the button. The camera whirred and spat out a black square rimmed with white, and Tae took the photograph to start shaking it so it would develop. After a few seconds of vigorous shaking, she held it out for Kagura to see; the alien’s eyebrows shot up to the roots of her hair as she was greeted with the crazy photo.

“Wow! That’s so amazing!” she laughed, snatching the photo up to run over to Gintoki and stick it in his face. “Look, Gin, it’s me!”

“Fascinating. Now move,” he grumped and fell onto his side so that he could once more behold the cute weathergirl chattering amiably on the television. Kagura pursed her lips and puffed out her cheeks in childish protest. Gin yelped as she kicked him hard in the shin, and as he curled up on the carpet whimpering and holding the potentially fractured bone, Kagura scampered innocently back over to the table to sit next to Tae.

“You should get pictures of everyone! We can put them all on a board in here!” the young girl suggested excitedly.

“What a wonderful idea! It will really liven up the place!” Tae agreed. There were worse ways to spend a day, after all. Tae smiled eagerly as she held the camera between her hands. She couldn’t wait to see what kind of memories the little camera would record. It’s really lucky that I won this little prize~ she thought as she snapped a rather candid photo of Shinpachi with half a fried egg hanging out of his mouth. Kagura snatched the photo up and started running in circles around the table while Shinpachi chased her, desperate to rip the damning picture in half. Tae turned to look at the white-haired man still lounging lazily in front of the television, occasionally eclipsed by the two running teenagers. A faint haze of pink appeared on her cheeks as she hugged the camera to her chest.

Maybe… I can keep one or two for myself, too?

~~~~~~~~~~

After a day of hunting down literally everyone they knew, Tae and the two children were back at the table, pinning a collection of pictures to a large corkboard that they were going to hang in the main room. Tae had to say, she outdid herself with the menagerie. She had a nice shot of Sadaharu playing fetch with a frisbee, one of Otose smoking her pipe thoughtfully while admiring the sky, one of cute Tama sweeping contentedly, and one of Catherine flirting shamelessly with a man who looked not the least bit interested and daresay even a little frightened.

After that point, people had started crashing the party, and Tae had snapped random photos to just see and what she accomplished. The results had been fun; she had a shot of her crazy gorilla stalker Isao lying upside-down in a destroyed fruit stand where Tae had hurled him (that she was only keeping because Kagure found it hilarious) and one of Hijikata and Okita embroiled in a fistfight with Gin and Kagura. The princess Soyo had come to play with Kagura, and Tae had snapped a very cute shot of them having tea time. They had ventured down to Yoshiwara and got a photo of Hinowa, Seita, and Tsukuyo strolling through the lantern-lit streets. Tae had taken a photo with Kyuubei as well and thought it was so adorable how shy she looked. Somehow she had also managed to nab a photo of the strange long-haired patriot Katsura and his companion Elizabeth wearing mustache disguises (that were being wrenched off by a very angry Hijikata in the photo) and it was funny, so Tae kept it. She had one of Ayame the ninja, too— specifically, one of her hanging out of a window calling lewdly to Gin as he tried his best to speed-walk away. The next shot was of her jumping out of the window to fall right on top of him. Tae thought they were nice companion pieces.

Finally, the centerpiece was grumpy Gin lounging in front of his television poring over Ketsuono Ana. Tae giggled as she pinned it to the board; surely, there was nothing so unequivocally Gin than that photo. He was watching through lidded eyes as the excited trio hung up their finished product and stood back to admire it.

“Are you finally done? Does that mean you’re done dragging me all over town?” he whined as he picked at his nose with his pinky. So vulgar, she thought, but with an undeniable hint of fondness.

“Tae! Can we please keep the camera?” Kagura begged suddenly, tugging on her arm. “We want to add more photos, and we’ll have to have a camera to snag them, yes?”

Tae smiled wanly at the precious girl; the camera would be only a novel and temporarily amusement to Tae. She knew in her heart that the children would derive much more long-lasting and meaningful amusement from it, and it was no loss to her since she had gotten it for free. Still… Her eyes wavered as they settled on the bored-looking man. He had been very unexcited about posing for photos, so Tae really hadn’t gotten any good pictures of him. Tae flushed and looked down at her feet when his eyes suddenly flickered to meet hers. Was it creepy that she wanted a picture of him? Just one… Then she could relinquish the camera to Kagura with no regrets.

“Oi. Take your dog out before he pisses on my floor,” Gin barked to Kagura as Sadaharu whined miserably at the door. Kagura stuck her tongue out at the rude man but obediently jumped up to scamper over to open the door.

“Come, Shinpachi, let us take Sadaharu for a walk!”

“What? Oh, okay,” the spectacled boy shrugged and followed after her. The door clicked shut behind him.

Tae and Gin were now alone.

“What’s that look for?” The smirk on his face was positively devious. Could he know what she was thinking? “You want a picture of me all for yourself, is that it~?” Tae flinched at how easily he seemed to read her mind. She could only shuffle her feet and blush as he peeled himself up off the floor to scroll languidly over to her and take the camera in his hands to begin inspecting it critically. With how close he was standing to her, it was impossible not to notice how he towered over her in an effortlessly sexy manner… Tae’s cheeks turned dark red. Had she really just used “sexy” and “Gintoki” in the same thought process? Oh, yes, she had. She still was. It was all she could think about, even. “I really don’t get the big deal about this thing…”

“It doesn’t matter! I’m going to give it to Kagura!” Tae stammered as she reached for the camera. Gin clicked his tongue and held it high above her head, out of reach. “Gin! Give it here! You don’t care, so why are you teasing me?” she whined pitifully as she stood on her tip-toes to try and reach the camera. Her fingertips could only graze the underside of its plastic surface. Her chest kept bumping into his as she wobbled in front of him, and he tilted his head back as the crown of his head tickled his chin. He was smirking widely, obviously very entertained by her fruitless efforts. “You meanie!” she said and puffed her cheeks at him angrily.

“Mean? I was going to take a photo with you, Tae; I don’t think that’s mean at all.”

Tae ought to be alarmed by the edge to his voice, she really ought to, but that was secondary to the effect his words were having on her brain right then. She fell back onto the flats of her feet as she stared owlishly up at him.

“Really? I thought you weren’t interested.”

“Just shut up and stand still,” he purred as he slowly slipped an arm around her shoulders, letting it hang there loosely as he adjusted so he was standing next to her. His other arm was raised to position the camera down towards them. Tae could only stare at the black lens, shocked at how easy it had been for Gintoki to agree.

Of course, things were never that simple with him.

She gasped loudly as his hand suddenly snapped up to grab her chin and turn her face. Her vision was a blur of his white hair and silver eyes and devilish grin and the flash of the shutter. He had concluded the act far before her mind registered the softness of his lips against hers; by the time the sensation had reached her nerves, he had already pulled back and dropped the camera in her hands to go flop down in front the television. She looked blankly down at the developing photograph, mind whirling in a storm of confusion. Surely she had just imagined that, right? There was no way Gin would kiss her…

The image slowly came to life in the black film. Sure enough, there it was, indisputable evidence of their lip-locking. Gintoki was smugly side-eyeing the camera as he smirked against Tae’s smushed lips, while her eyes were wide and locked on his face. She blinked once, twice, a third time for good measure to see if the image distorted at all. Nope. There it still was, clear as day.

“Ehhhhhhhhh?!” she screeched in a conglomeration of alarm, shock, anger, and stupid glee. “Gintoki! You can’t just do stuff like that!”

“What? Did you not like it?”

“Th-that’s beside the point.”

“So you did like it.”

“I-I didn’t say that!”

“Oh? Want me to try again?”

“Gintoki!” His shoulders shook in a baleful laugh before he tossed a smile at her. That smile made her heart stop. It wasn’t a smile of mischievousness or teasing, but genuine affection.

“Be sure to keep that a secret from Shinpachi. He won’t like it.” Tae stiffened before stuffing the photo into one of the pockets sewn into the inside of her kimono. “And Tae?”

“Y-yes?”

“Drop by more often. I get tired of Shinpachi griping about how he doesn’t get to see you with how much you work.” She blinked as he turned back to the television, grabbing the remote to flip idly through the channels. It took a moment for the request to register, and when it did, her eyes softened as she smiled lovingly. What a Gintoki way of saying things. Never could be to the point, could he?

“Hehe… Sure thing.”

She left the camera on the table for Kagura and left. As she walked home, she pulled out the photo, holding it in both hands as she walked home. Her eyes crinkled up with happiness as she admired it, her new treasure.

“Sure thing…”

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

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heartwoodventures · 4 years

Text

Where the Wind Blows

Falcon’s Nest. A modest hamlet located in the western highlands of Coerthas. A monochromatic world of ice and snow, of gray skies and bitter winds. A far cry from the idyllic, sun-drenched shores on which Heartwood had played mere suns earlier. Now, a trio met at the town’s central aetheryte, informed by a missive that Momori Mori, the odd lalafell who had agreed to help one of their own, had uncovered new information.

Arriving at the aetheryte, Aislinn burrowed deeper into the warmth of her jacket as she cast her gaze about the agreed upon meeting place. Spying Lumarto and Rolanda she wandered over and gave the miqo’te and au ra both a nod.

"Any sign of Momori yet?" she asked.

Lumarto stared at her, his hands brought together to try and retain some warmth. "I think she's comin' around shortly; it shouldn't be hard to spot anyone here at the Nest-- oh, see?" Luma said, pointing towards the welcomed sight.

The lalafell stepped out from behind the Aetheryte. She was lugging over a large, black contraption. Whatever it was, it was producing a lot of noise...and heat.

Aislinn followed his gaze and set sight on the business like lalafell. Her brow furrowed in confusion, however, as to what the woman could possibly be toting along with her. "Ahh." she stamped her feet against the frigid air. The trick was to keep moving, she had learned.

"Hello there. A bit jarring, to go from warm sands to blustering cold." Momori shivered.

"Yes, I never quite got used to these crystals... Glad you made it! What have you got with you there?" Rolanda asked as she pointed at the contraption Momori was lugging along.

"Takes some getting used to, but I'm sure it will feel natural after a while." Luma said, as he approached before staring down at the contraption. "I was just about to ask the same thing; it's radiating... heat? A heater?"

"Oh, this is..." Momori looked side to side. This area was too open for her. "Let's find somewhere more discrete to talk about it, yes? Follow me."

Aislinn slid a questioning glance to the others but then shrugged and followed along.

The lalafell led them down the ice-covered street and then down a darkened alley. Had the trio not been seasoned mercenaries, armed with all manner of weapons and devices, they might have been more concerned. This was the kind of thing that happened to unsuspecting victims in the less-than savory part of town right before they were set upon.

"Much better. Away from prying eyes." Momori slapped the hood of the black contraption. "This here...is an encryptor. Specifically, it will guard the messages that we send with these."

She turned and placed a device that vaguely resembled a linkpearl in each of their hands. It was larger than usual, and contained a lens on the front. Due to its size, it couldn’t fit in a person’s ear, but its clip suggested that it should be worn on one’s clothing.

"So precautions... I understand." Luma muttered a bit, gazing at the object in question before clipping it to the side of his collar; not in the way of his hood or neck. "Rather fancy device, isn't it?".

"Enctor. Sounds.. fancy" Roland clipped the device to her hip.

"Very fancy. You won't find these in the common markets." Momori replied.

Aislinn was clearly intrigued by the premise of the encryptor, turning the offered device this way and that in her hands. She wondered, after all this is said and done, if Momori would let her take one of these apart to see how it works. For now though, she clipped it to her coat.

"Three of you...That's good. A small party won't attract too much attention." Momori hummed to herself. "....Well, first and foremost, they look very nice on you all. Very fashionable."

Aislinn shot the lalafell a dubious look.

“These devices are known as aetheric snapshots. They're capable of recording both visual and aetheric information in high fidelity, which I can process later. But I'm getting ahead of myself. You're probably wondering why I have this.” Momori explained.

"It had crossed my mind." Aislinn replied. "Just what sort of trouble are you expecting us to run up against, here?"

"I suppose asking why you have this is the next step in deduction, yes." Luma stated, looking at the object on his collar before looking back to Momori. "Why do you have something like this?"

“Let's start at the beginning. Red Argos is here, somewhere. And they likely have us outgunned. A frontal assault would be suicide, and that's low on my list of favorite things." Momori began.

"Makes sense." Aislinn nodded.

Momori noddded back. “We don’t know where they’re holed up, what they’re doing in Coerthas, and what...or rather, if, Wyda is connected to all this. While rushing into a death trap with weapons drawn is still your prerogative, I’d propose we instead use today’s outing to collect intelligence, and work towards answers to our questions.”

"So is this based on speculation and not fact? Or is there something to go off of?" Luma asked, raising an eyebrow mildly.

"Fact. Seawolf pirates, members of Red Argos, have been spotted here. Going to and fro, up to no good. They're capable of razing entire villages, so..." Momori looked over the trio in front of her. "A sizeable crew. Not one to tussle with head on."

"Enough for a small squabble but not a full on fight? Sounds reasonable..." Lumarto admitted.

Momori nodded to Lumarto. "Exactly.”

Rolanda shared a look with Lumarto and Aislinn. "I just can't imagine Wyda being involved in something like that. We have to find out what's going on!"

Aislinn nodded in agreement with Rolanda. Despite what she knew of the Seawolf's trouble with missing time, she couldn’t really believe Wyda would be a pirate at any juncture. "No, seems completely out of character."

"Expand your imagination, as it IS a possibility. I would like to debrief you all on what I've uncovered so far. Some good, some bad." Momori countered. "Starting with Wyda. She has yet to say anything pertinent to Red Argos...But I believe her mind is compromised. Did you know she WAS part of a pirate crew? And that she claims to have no memory of this?”

Aislinn tipped her head. "How'd you come by that bit of information?"

Lumarto stared at the group while Momori spoke, resting his hand on his hip while she debriefed them. "Seems like something awful to forget..."

"One hears a lot in Aleport taverns. That, and some had much to say when presented with her bounty portrait." Momori replied.

Rolanda paused. "For my own part, I can only say we met recently and I don't know her past. But she did not seem to have the demeanor of a pirate to me."

Aislinn shared a glance with Lumarto. "I thought we agreed, it's not -her- portrait. For all we know those sods in the taverns are getting her confused with someone else."

Lumarto nodded to Aislinn's point. "Anyone could share a face, but rumors could spread like wild fire."

"True. There is a non-zero chance of her having an identical twin." Momori shrugged. "Just as there is a non-zero chance of Bahamut coming to roast us on the spot! Haha." She chuckled at her own joke, then cleared her throat. "Anyway."

Aislinn gave the lalafell a flat look. There was also a non-zero chance of Momori ending up headfirst in a snowbank by the time this was through. "Fine. Let's pretend she was a pirate. ‘Was’, being the operative word."

"Wyda..." Momori made air quotes as she said the name. "Used to be part of a pirate crew known as the 'Ruddy Hounds,' which disappeared over a year ago. After some matching, I determined that some ex-members of the Hounds are in Argos. These are sea pirates we're talking about. So unless they suddenly got an airship...AND learned to fly the thing..." Momori frowned.

Aislinn shrugged one shoulder. "Suppose that's also not unheard of."

"Or thought there would be no competition in a frozen tundra?" Luma remarked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah, yes. That brings me to my next point. They don't seem concerned in coin, and only in 'booty.' Spoken booty, that is!" Another one of her godawful jokes. "They've kept up their kidnapping habits here. Three have gone missing in Coerthas."

What sort of pirates weren't interested in coin?

"To what end? Ransom? Trafficking?" Aislinn asked.

"If its Coerthas, it could be ransom; trying to take the coin of the wealthy for the exchange of the stolen?" Lumarto suggested.

"Perhaps. Though no victims have shown up in...the markets, so to speak. Nor have they reached out to anyone for ransom. Maybe it's their first time with this sort of thing." Momori stated.

"I'd guess the law is preoccupied, but that would be surprising if it had been someone of high class who had been kidnapped; they jumped at the chance to be saviours then." Lumarto all but snorted.

"No. But I do believe if we find the victims, we'll find Red Argos. I have some items here from the kidnapped victims, if that could help you in tracking them down.” Momori handed Lumarto a dirty sock, a ribbon, and a bracelet. "If somehow you're, like, a bloodhound. Lumarto, none of the kidnapped are particularly rich, which could explain the inaction."

Lumarto stared at the items. "So they aren't of high class... so people like ourselves are going to have to do the work; figures..." Luma said, looking back to Momori. "Do we have any idea of the age of those who had been stolen?"

"Two adults, one child." she answered.

"A family out of their house, mayhaps."

Aislinn eyed the belongings in Lumarto’s hands. "-Were- they related? Do we know?" she asked, looking back to Momori.

"Mother and child. The other adult wasn't related." Momori nodded. "You know what they say. A family that eats together, is..." She stopped. Perhaps it isn't time to joke around.

Rolanda narrowed her eyes at Momori. "No, probably not the time to joke..."

"There aren't many places to hide in Coerthas... it isn't like they can openly hole up in the city..." Luma thought, pacing slightly.

Aislinn shook her head. "No, you're right. More than likely, they're out holed up in one of the deserted villages around here."

Momori coughed. "I would like to bring up the reason I'm here.” Now seemed as good a time as any. “They've stolen an artifact known as 'The Helm' from me. A wheel of six spokes, decorated with six elementally aspected crystals at each end. If you happen to see it, I would be much obliged."

“I wish I could tell you what it does. Unfortunately, it has a reputation for being useless. The Helm was recovered between Doma and the Azim Steppe nearly fifty years ago. It was immediately recognized as being unworkable and incomplete, and thus spent decades as a royal, broken bauble. There are rumors that it was used as a toy at some point. As a flying disc for children.”

Lumarto stared for a moment at Momori. "So we are really going after this 'Helm', while on the side potentially uncovering and helping those who had been kidnapped?" Luma asked, crossing his arms.

Aislinn eyed Momori quietly for a moment. Something about that didn't sound right to her and honestly, she wasn't entirely sure she trusted the lalafell. She spoke neither one way or another on the matter of the 'Helm'.

"Well, it is why I'm here. And the kidnapped are to simply lead us to Red Argos, so that you may free your jailed companion." Momori replied. "The Helm being useless is a boon. You shadn't worry about anything crazy happening, outside of pirates and guns."

Aislinn let go a wry, humorless smile. "Somehow, I've never found that to be the case."

"What will we be doing now then for this? Surely not stand here with frost building up on our feet; do we have a location in mind for a search?" Lumarto said. The quicker they got moving, the better.

“Ah, of course not. But quickly, let me explain these devices.” Momori said, referring to one she held in her hand. “"If you see anything interesting, you can snap a photo of it with this. It can only hold one photo, so make it count. You can also safely communicate with each other, or me, through it. I won’t be joining in person since I’m just a civilian."

Aislinn took a closer look at her device, following along and making sure she understood it before they headed out.

"As for places to start looking, I have two leads. There’s an abandoned settlement that not many pass by - a potential hideout for the pirates. Secondly, herds of Steinbock have been on the move recently. Perhaps being spooked by increased activity from our pirates? It may be worth taking a look at their grazing grounds."

"I'd say the settlement personally... spooked steinbock could be anything from wild life territorial issues or mishaps with adventurers, so I wouldn't see that as anything to jump at." Luma said, glancing at the others. "What are your thoughts?"

Satisfied she understood how to work the new device, Aislinn looked up at Luma. "Can't say I know much about what will or won't spook a steinbock. But the settlement seems like a good place to start.”

Lumarto nodded.

"Why don't you test out your devices? Hope they aren't broken." Momori said.

Lumarto stared down at the object on his collar. "I'd rather not play around with something like this... just assume it does the job right and get down to business."

Unlike Lumarto, Aislinn took a moment to point the device at Rolanda, and hit the button. She had no problem messing with things to see if they'll break.

Rolanda struck a stunning pose when Aislinn pointed the pearl her way.

Referring back to the device, Aislinn gave a thumbs up. "Seems to be in order. Let’s head out."

The trio turned on their heels and left Momori to huddle in the alleyway next to the encryptor and listen for word of their excursion over the linkpearl. The three rode out and arrived at the settlement, finding it just as Momori had stated. The abandoned buildings sat, long frozen. A testament to an earlier time when the land around them was verdant and farmable. Now it lay buried under fulms of snow, likely never to see the light of day again. They landed at its fringes, and almost immediately heard a buzzing sound emanating from their clothing.

"Hello? Is this thing on?" Momori was calling through the linkpearls.

Rolanda slapped the pearl on her hip out of fear as it crackled suddenly to life. Its image shifts to one of pure white. "Dag nabbit.. lousy thing!"

Aislinn scanned the area as she dismounted and waved her carbuncle out of existence. She jolted a bit as the disembodied voice floated from her jacket. Luckily Lumarto responded so she didn’t have to.

Lumarto listened, cocking his head to a side upon hearing Momori's voice. "Aye its on. We've arrived at the settlement; its in tatters."

The Highlander continued to take stock of the settlement, looking for any sign of recent activity.

"At least it'll be hard to cover their tracks in snow?” she offered.

"On the contrary, the constant blizzards would pile their tracks up; so it might be difficult unless they’re fresh." Luma said to Aislinn, taking a few steps towards the buildings and gazing upon the structure.

He was right. Fresh snow covered any potential footprints and fallen items. At first glance, it simply appeared a lonely, cold wasteland. No sign of life or recent activity. But the three fanned out, determined to search anyroads.

With a hum of consideration, Aislinn wandered off towards the buildings on the north side of the settlement.

Rolanda dug through the rubble and found a small can of beans that appeared to be untouched. "Found some beans."

"Beans? Rolanda, focus. Now's not the time to be eating things off the floor." Momori’s voice crackled.

"Was there a fire here earlier?..." Luma spoke to himself, crouching down to gaze at the bottom near one of the doors on the building to the south, looking for any signs of ware-and-tear, or skid marks from the opening.

Across the way, Aislinn put a hand on the door of one of the buildings, it was cold from the outside, obviously. The building was made of solid, rough hewn rock, its door shut against the wind. But she focused on sensing any aetheric signature within. The cold, biting wind and stinging snow made it hard for her to concentrate. Maybe she felt something. It was ever so faint. She strained a bit harder, leaning against the door now but after a few moments longer, she shook her head and finally pushed away. Whatever it was, it was gone now.

Lumarto caught a whiff of gunpowder when he crouched down, wiping away the small layers of frost and revealing a trail of the stuff. "Where does this lead?..." the miqo’te muttered, pressing against the door as he stood up and began to pursue the trail.

As Aislinn moved to turn away from the northern building, she stopped again. No. There was definitely something. But as she glanced across the way, she caught sight of Luma’s form wandering off into the blowing snow. Splitting up in a blizzard when there might be pirates about sat ill at ease with her and so, she made to follow but Rolanda approached and stopped her.

"Hmm, I'm a bit of an expert on beans... and this can seems to be recently sealed, likely from nearby Limsa Lominsa. This could be a bean-clue." the au ra handed the can to Aislinn. "What do you think?"

Hesitating in her desire to follow after Lumarto, Aislinn looked at Rolanda and her beans. "Ahh." she paused and eyed the legumes in question, taking a moment to consider them.

"New....beans?" Momori sounded confused. "A ration by some travelers?"

"Does seem an odd thing to be here. And they look a lot more recent than the rest of this place. But...I can't say whether pirates or some hunter might have left them." the woman said with an apologetic look to Rolanda.

Rolanda nodded. "That conclusion seems logical. Perhaps someone traveled through here that came through Limsa first."

"Bring it back all the same. If it's irrelevant, we can split the beans fourway. Nothing like floor food to fill the gut." Momori advised.

Aislinn passed Rolanda a dry look. "Well...you heard the woman. Bring it along. It's either a clue or floor food." she turned to look for Luma but he was nowhere to be found. Her anxiety had just begun to rise when his voice came over the linkpearl.

"Beans are going to have to wait. You both might wanna check this out." Luma said, awaiting for them to join him.

They found him at the edge of a cliff behind one of the buildings, staring down into the gully below as Aislinn appeared behind him.

"Take a look at this." Luma said, pointing down towards the snow beneath the cliff.

Gazing down at the white snow; something odd protruded from it. Not the solid white of snow, of powder and the like-- an off white, bone. A skeleton had been off the cliff's edge and covered in snow. "That doesn't look fresh... it can't be any of the ones who were kidnapped..." Luma muttered.

"What is it? What's fresh?" With only voice communication, Momori wasn’t able to follow what was happening. "Something juicy?"

Aislinn followed his gaze, confused for a moment as she sought what he was pointing out. But then, all at once it took shape for her. A skeleton against the snow. "Nymeia's Blood." she swore softly. "We need to get closer. Try and see if we can ascertain how long it's been here. And, bring it back, if we can. No one should be left out here like that."

"Lumarto found a skeleton." she said into the device.

"You're right, but mind your step. I found Ceruleum here as well, so anything could be hidden beneath the snow or otherwise; I don't feel like that body is here unintentionally." Lumarto warned her.

"Ceruleum....That's odd. A popular fuel for garlean magitek, but...hm. Go forth with the utmost caution." Momori added.

Rolanda came up behind them, breathless. "Sorry the cold got to me for a moment there. Brought the beans."

With that, Luma carefully got some footing on the slope of the cliff, and slid down; his heels keeping a firm grip on the rock before taking a short leap onto the snow below; gazing just for a moment if there was anything else in question to see before moving forward.

Aislinn nodded in reply to the warning as she pulled a battered gemstone from her hip pack. Tossing it in the air, with a bit of calculated manipulation on her part, it became her carbuncle. She headed down to join Lumarto.

Rolanda pocketed the beans and looked down the cliff face. "Well, no time like the present! HUP!" and with that, began her way down.

"I don't see anything..." Luma said, as he approached the skeleton before kneeling down before it. "Does it look like an adult's frame? Child?" Luma asked, wanting the others’ opinion.

The wind suddenly picked up, revealing more frozen snow coated with a mixture of gunpowder and ceruleum. The way the ice had formed...signs of struggle. It was soon apparent the skeleton was that of an adult.

"I don't think I'm going to be eating these beans now.." Rolanda covered her mouth.

Aislinn knelt down and brushed some of the snow away from the skeleton, trying to get a clearer picture of it. As her hands grazed the bones, that familiar buzzing pressure started in her ears. Aether. A lot of it. She looked to Lumarto and Rolanda. "Ahh...help me move the bones. We'll have to pack them up and bring them back anyroads."

Lumarto shook his head at Rolanda "It's not about eating right no--" Luma paused, the sensation of fire aether causing the hairs on his back to stand on end; his tail to shoot up before nonchalantly returning to a rested state.

He shifted his attention to Aislinn, albeit with something else on his mind. "Wh-- ah, yeah...yeah..." Luma said, staring down at the skeleton and slowly taking bone by bone, his hands visibly hesitating with each time he reached towards that source of aether.

Rolanda nodded and bent down to help. Using her bow to dig out around the bones, she made them easier to pick up.

Aislinn slid a glance to Lumarto. Judging from his reaction, she wasn't the only one who noticed the aether. "You feel that too, aye?" she said, relieved it wasn't just her.

Lumarto stared at her, before quickly looking away to hide his gaze, still shaken. "Aye its... potent; and unpleasant..." he said, gazing down at the pieces of arm bone he had picked up; noticing an odd brand on it.

The aether burned brightest around the wrist bone he held. And the brand. A black mark, a crude symbol of the fire element surrounded by six intricate wings. Additionally, frozen flower petals resembling those of a lily, a light lavender color.

The aether seemed to seethe and he immediately dropped it, taking a sudden step back.

Aislinn startled a bit as the miqo'te dropped one of the bones as if it had burned him. Her eyes dart from him to the bone and back.

Just then, Momori’s voice broke the silence. "Sounds like you guys hit paydirt. Though a skeleton would be hard to bring back. Maybe bring back just what matters for now, and come back for the rest later?"

"Alright, there Lumarto?" Aislinn asked.

She leaned forward, reaching for the bone. Before she even touched it, she felt the aether coming from the strange symbol. "Ahh...this is where it's coming from." she sat back and spoke into the device.

"Right." She didn't like the idea of leaving the remains out here but Momori made sense.

Lumarto looked towards the skeleton and then up at Aislinn. "I'm... f-fine. I'm not good with fire; unpleasant memories..." Luma muttered, as his wobbly legs slowly attempted another step. "There is that symbol on its wrist, and it's almost like that in itself is an active fire crystal. It's important from the looks of it." Luma said, though hesitated in coming closer to the mark. "Can you retrieve it? Sending a picture for Momori would probably be ideal."

Aislinn pulled a cloth from her pack and reached for the bone, turning it about in the snow. "It has an odd symbol. -Burned- into the bone by the looks of it. I can't...done before or after death, I can't say." she said into the device. She nodded to Lumarto.

Rolanda didn’t notice any of this heat that everyone kept talking about. She reached down and grabbed a hold of the wrist bone. "Is this the one we need?"

"Aye, can you carry that back for us?" she asks the Au Ra. Truthfully, she didn't want to handle it either.

Lumarto nodded at that. With the Au Ra not realizing its potential and properties, it would be the safest bet. "Please carry it for us." Luma said without skipping a beat.

"It does not appear to affect me as it does all of you. I will happily transport it if it makes you all more comfortable." Rolanda shrugged.

Aislinn spared her a grateful look before eyeing the rest of the bones. "These...I suppose they'll have to wait."

"Well, if that's taken care off, I happen to have an odd...lead for you all." Momori's voice popped and crackled. "From where I'm at, I just saw an airship fly by. Garlean."

Garlean. Aislinn swiftly lifted her head to the skies.

"Is it headed anywhere this direction? Considering the ceruleum and all." Luma said, looking up at the sky while one hand was on his collar; his right hand gripping his sleeve to try and relieve some of the burning sensation.

"It was seen heading eastward. Odd thing about it, kept flashing in and out of view." Momori reported.

"Are you saying it was cloaking in some way, or hidden by the weather?" Luma asked, taking a few more steps towards the more open part of the cliff, trying to get a clearer look at the sky.

Aislinn looked back up the cliff in the direction of the building she had been inspecting. She couldn't shake the feeling there was something there. No matter how faint. She quietly continued to listen to the exchange between Lumarto and Momori.

"Potentially. If so, then their system must be broken...I was only able to spot it briefly and from afar, so I couldn't tell what they were using. "

"Copy that." Lumarto replied, turning to the group. "I'd say we try and look for things while we leave the premises; there is no telling if they are headed here or not." he said, glancing between the other two. "What say you both?"

"We should make haste to see if we can find this ship. If we can get there quickly, perhaps we can see if it is our culprits." Rolanda said, decisively

"If it was heading eastward from Falcon's Nest, it might head this way. But...I want to look at one of the building's up there. I sensed something coming from beyond it." Aislinn countered.

"I have a whale that can carry me quite swiftly. Perhaps I could take flight and see if I can get a snapshot of this ship - from a distance of course" Rolanda offered.

No one seemed surprised the au ra had a skywhale at her beckon call. Rolanda always had a trick up her sleeve.

Lumarto nodded to Aislinn. "Show us the building, and we'll see if there are any more leads before we get an unexpected arrival." Luma said, then held his hand to his collar, activating the pearl. "We're going to take a look at a lead from Aislinn before returning." Luma reported, turning to Rolanda. "If you could do so quietly and discreetly, then by all means; but don't take risks."

"Whatever you do, be careful. Don't want them pointing their guns at you." Momori voice crackled back in reply.

Aislinn seemed torn for a moment. "Alright...that seems best. But aye, as Lumarto says, be careful."

Rolanda nodded and called her skywhale down from the clouds. "Easy now, Eustice. We have to be stealthy today". She hopped on the back of her whale, and headed back into the clouds in search of the airship.

Aislinn led Luma back across the settlement to the building in question. She trailed her hand along its rough hewn facade as she moved away from the front. Her brow furrowed in concentration, as she tried to focus. "It feels like it's coming from behind the building." she said. "Do you feel anything?" she asked Lumarto as she moved along.

High in the sky above, Rolanda caught sight of the ship approaching from a distance. It appeared to be heading straight for them! She hurriedly snapped a photo with the linkpearl and then headed down to the rest of the party to warn them about the approaching ship.

"It does feel odd around here, I guess this place really does have something about it." Luma said, turning as he noticed Rolanda coming back from her pseudo-mission.

"The ship is headed this way! I'm not sure of its intentions, but I managed to get a linkpearl of it before I had to flee.”

Rolanda's announcement placed a sense of urgency in Aislinn that momentarily disrupted her concentration. "Right...okay. Let's be quick about this. Momori said we're outgunned and I don't want to be caught out like this."

Both Aislinn and Lumarto could feel it. Earth aether. Weak, but present, and foreign to the environment. The source coming from beyond the building, toward the rocky outcropping.

Aislinn wordlessly followed her senses, the world narrowing down to this aether and getting out. As they moved around a boulder, they found the source. Incredibly, it was a child! A young midlander girl, huddled against the rock and shivering.

A child was the last thing Aislinn expected to find. She rocked back a step in surprise. "I..oh!"

"Gods... how long has she been out here for?" Luma said, quickly approaching behind Aislinn before crouching down and getting a better look at the girl.

The girl weakly turned to look at Lumarto, and flinched, scrambling further into the rock. "I-I...you're not...one of them, are you?"

Aislinn quickly recovered and slowly reached out for the child but stopped, realizing that might be perceived as a threat. Instead, she turned to her device. "Momori, I think we find the child that was missing."

"One of them?..." Luma asked, looking at her expression, he finally put two and two together. "No, no no... me and these two were lucky enough to even find you shivering out here." Luma said, crouching down and holding his hand out slowly to the girl, keeping it steady to not show hostility. "Are you hurt? Hungry? Rolanda, get the beans." Luma said, his gaze darting to the Au Ra.

"Nice." Momori pauses. "She's an elezen, right?"

Rolanda pulled out the can. "Ah yes, the groun- uh.. er... the beans! Here you are."

Aislinn looked the girl over. "Ahh...no. She's a hyur."

The girl looked towards the can of beans, then at Luma. "You...you don't look like one of them." She quickly grabbed the beans and immediately tried to pry the can open. As she did so, they all saw it as plain as day. A tattoo. The mark of earth, surrounded by six wings.

Lumarto watched the girl, his heart aching. Being a father, he couldn't help but feel worry upon finding a girl here in the cold. He noticed the mark, and his eyes widened. "Here..." Luma said, carefully reaching for the can of beans and, using a knife from his hip, pried it open before handing it back to the girl. "Slowly-- don't choke."

The girl watched the miqo’te, stars in her eyes. However, despite his advice, she did in fact inhale those beans. As if on cue, a garlean airship touched down at the center of the abandoned settlement. From a distance, the trio could hear the sound of metal armor. “Come! We don’t have much time to find her,” a voice called from the distance.

Aislinn snapped her attention to the sound of the airship. "Right. Time to go." she murmured. She looked down at the girl. "Ready to head home?" she asks gently. "We're here to bring you back."

"I have a whale that could easily accommodate both of us" Rolanda said with a smile.

The girl's eyes widen and her head swiftly turned to stare at the docking airship. "Thass them! The bad guys." Her mouth is still stuffed full with beans.

Lumarto stared at Aislinn, and then to the girl; the state she was in, taking her home immediately sounded like a risk. "You're being... tracked, they are trying to find you?" Luma asked, carefully approaching the girl and removing one layer from his coat; covering the small girl in it.

Aislinn shot a glance at Lumarto. "We can't leave her here and at the end of all of this...." she inhaled. They had to move. Now. Debating the finer points of where the child would go could be done later. "We don't have time."

"I'm not saying to leave her here, but rather get her away before we ourselves get caught." Luma said, staring around at the group before looking back at the Garlean ship dock. "We need to go north like I said, and loop around back to Falcon's Nest."

From here, they could see several figures moving here and there in the settlement. They were searching fervently. Interestingly, there were those dressed in garlean armor mixed in with the Sea Wolves. A detail to be mulled over at another time.

Aislinn nodded quickly along with Lumarto, turning to keep an eye out as she groaned under her breath. "Right. Then are you reading to get away from here?"

"I can take the girl to safety and meet up with you afterwards. I can keep in touch with the link pearls." Rolanda said, calling the whale down once more.

Lumarto turned to Rolanda. "We can use the whale to head north and try to stay low before making our way to the nest; can it fit all four of us?" Luma asked, glancing down at the little girl. "You're going to be fine; we'll keep you safe. Go along with Rolanda and we'll meet with you in a bit, ok? Hopefully that coat keeps you warm."

Aislinn kept an eye out while Rolanda and Lumarto go about securing the child safely up on the whale.

The girl looked unsure, but then caught sight of someone coming around the corner. “It’s her!” Frightened, it’s enough to send the girl scrabbling to get onto the whale. Lumarto hurried after her with ease. Aislinn on the other hand…

Lumarto reached down from the whale to help Aislinn up. "Come on, we have to go now!" Luma stated, clearly not willing to simply abandon her.

The Sea Wolf who came around the corner of the building was Wyda. She was identical. She dashed towards the slowly embarking whale. Fists drawn to attack, sea foam hair whipped back from momentum.

Aislinn was momentarily caught off guard by the sight of the Wyda look alike and for a moment, it appeared as if she didn't even hear Lumarto urging her to get on. After a tense, stunned moment, she waves the whale off, signaling Rolanda to just go.

As the skywhale takes off, several other pirates and those donning garlean uniforms pour from around the corner of the building, ready to back up the Wyda look-alike. They began to fire their weapons at the whale.

The sound of gunfire snapped Aislinn back into motion. Slamming the snapshot function of the device to get a shot of the pirate angrily hurtling towards her, she then turned and ran for cover along the boulders that rimmed the settlement. In a rush, she tossed her battered gem into the sky and launched herself on the carbuncle that popped into existence.

The gunfire hit their mark! Several shots buried themselves in the whale’s belly, and it lurched to the side, losing altitude with a bellow.

"Eustice! nooo". Rolanda cried out. She pulled sharply on the reins, trying to get out of the line of fire.

The girl clung to Luma, holding on for dear life as the creature began to roll. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Aislinn cursed as she saw the great whale listing. Hurriedly reaching into her pack, she withdrew one of her incendiary nodes. Twisting the sphere to arm it, she hurls it down below in the midst of the pack of attackers.

The incendiary blossomed as it detonated, flames shooting forth across the white landscape. It provided a good distraction, and the firing squad below were suddenly more preoccupied with getting out of the way of the explosion. However, they were quick to regroup, and collect themselves, continuing to shoot. But Rolanda had managed to coax the whale higher into the sky, escaping the reach of the bullets below.

"Wow. Whatever you're doing, you better get out, stat." Momori's voice came out deadpan.

This bloody lalafell. Aislinn bit back a retort and simply, curtly answered. "On it."

Rolanda continued pulling up on the reins, aiming to get out of there as fast as possible and head back to safety.

"Head north and keep us under the bridge for some tics, we can't let them see us go back to the nest immediately!" Lumarto called out to the au ra while he held the girl safe.

Despite its injuries, the whale flew quickly through the sky, but they could all hear it...the roar of a magitek engine, somewhere behind them. Thankfully, in the blizzard, the noise eventually faded.

Aislinn and her carbuncle kept themselves in the shadow of the whale, turning back to peer through the blizzard. Hopefully they had lost them for good.

Lumarto sighed, glancing around. "That was reckless; we could have gotten into much worse if we didn't get out of there in time... but now they know a whale took the girl." he said, carefully releasing his hold on the little one. "You alright?" He asked her.

"Lots of people have whales right? ha ha.. ha.." Rolanda looked around worriedly. She hadn't noticed many whales around lately.

The girl opened an eye. “I...I’m alright. Ugh...” She keeled over slightly, in pain, and in conjunction with a strange light emanating from directly below them. The feeling of aether...moving. It was palpable to even those with the dullest senses.

"What the..." From under the whale, she leaned over her carbuncle to stare down below them. Whatever was causing this pressure in her head was strong. She drifted her mount lower to see if she could find the source.

Lumarto held his hand to his head, the other keeping the girl from falling off the whale. "Whatever it is, it's affecting us all... get us grounded."

Rolanda hurried to oblige, banking the whale into a shadowy ravine below with Aislinn in tow. Once back on solid ground, the group made their way out from the deep ravine where it opened onto what must have been, at one time, a lake bed. As they drew closer to the center of this opening...this Bed of Bones, they could see a figure brandishing something circular in its hands. Six burn spots are roasted into the icy floor, and a crowd of other figures - garleans and seawolves alike, are just behind the lone figure.

"What in the devils have we wandered into..." Rolanda whispered, trying to make herself small.

Lumarto gestured to everyone. "We're getting into something deep... lay low. Rolanda, you're the only one without a solid picture; take one here if anything stands out." Luma said, crouching down with the others.

Momori’s voice came out in a hush through the linkpearl. "There was an earthquake just now! And that light...did you see that?"

"I got a picture of the ship, I can replace it if we find something more useful here." Rolanda said, brandishing her pearl.

"I'll try and take one if things seem rather... important. Though any of these moments seem like it." Luma said, keeping a hand near the pearl just in case he needs to snap a quick one.

They watched as the central figure spun the artifact, as though it were a ship’s wheel. Six lights, coming from the burn marks, dart about, then sink into the ground. A moment of silence, and then the wind coalesces, partitioned into even sections of highly concentrated aether.

Lumarto watched as the figure used the artifact with ease; then he recalled Momori's words. Something of a disc, 6 points; it fit the description oddly enough. "I'm going to step closer for a picture..." Luma said, carefully setting the girl beside Aislinn before readying the pearl.

Aislinn watched the strange ritual without having one any idea as to what the purpose may have been. A summoning? But she recognized that artifact. The Helm Momori had described. Apparently not so useless after all. Why was she not surprised? As Lumarto set the girl beside her, she laid a comforting hand on the girl's arm.

From the sections of aether, wind sprites form, and with the unrelenting fury of Llymlaen herself, a great gale of wind blows. It was strong enough to knock the viewing party off their feet. Lumarto had clipped the enhanced linkpearl off his collar, aiming it at the figure as the artifact was beginning to spew aetheric wind around them. He snapped a photo of the impact, of the sprites forming around the group. Just as fast as the photo was taken, the wind shot him back towards his group; slamming against the rock behind them before falling to the snow. With a long exhale, he sighed. "Lets... Lets get out. This is getting dangerous.."

As Lumarto came hurtling back towards them, Aislinn pulled the girl towards her and leaned back out of the way, wincing as the miqo'te made landfall. But as he speaks, she let go a breath. He was battered, but alright. Nodding in agreement she speaks. "Aye, let's get this little one taken care of."

The garlean airship lifted off, and the cloaking device finally kicked in. After much flickering, it disappeared in a blur. Gone.

"Well, that was.. something! Is everyone alright?" Rolanda looked around at her windswept companions.

The girl seemed to be in a daze. She looked especially weak, and at this point was pretty much as active as a sack of popotos.

Lumarto coughed some. "I don't very much like the idea of being battered, so let's try and head back; I need a drink..." he said, offering the lightest chuckle to try and make light of the situation before looking to the small girl. "She needs to rest and a bed... lets return to the nest; carefully this time."

Arriving back at Falcon’s Nest, the exhausted trio found Momori right where they had left her, by the device, donning a headpiece. She turned to the party as they arrived. “Oh. Hi.”

Lumarto held a hand to his gut, clearly worn out a bit before taking a seat on the alley steps. "Gods, that's enough for today..." the miqo’te muttered.

Aislinn North let go a long exhalation by way of reply. She had the girl in her arms, giving Lumarto a chance to rest. She doesn't look like she entirely knows how to hold or comfort a child.

"Good to see everyone in one piece. And...this must be the child you picked up along the way." She makes an odd face at the girl, who is just. Collapsed in Aislinn’s arms.

The lalafell held out her hand. "If you could hand me the augmented linkpearls. I'll need to process the photos you took."

Lumarto held out the pearl, reluctant to budge from his spot. Aislinn knelt down to allow Momori to pluck the device from her coat.

"Thanks all. Hm, that child...You don't suppose you can keep her holed up at Heartwood for now? I haven't the faintest idea who she is, and I don't think she can tell us now." Momori said, observing the child at a distance, as if she were on exhibit.

Lumarto turned to Momo and then to Aislinn. "I'm sure we can, she needs someplace warm and a hot meal; my space at the house should be a decent place. I can feed her when I'm free too." Luma said, holding out his arms to Aislinn. "Give her here; I need my coat back later anyways."

"Good. Now, if there's anything else you need to give to me, I'd ask you to hand it over now. There is much for me to look into." the lalafell said briskly.

Aislinn’s instinct was to try and heal the child but recalling the aetheric brand, she was hesitant to add any of her own aetheric formulas to the mix. The girl appeared worn out. A warm bed and a few good meals should go a long way to helping her recover. She nodded to Lumarto and gingerly passed the child off to him.

“Ah yes, I nearly forgot, this strange bone that everyone said felt warm". Rolanda said as she handed over the wrist bone to Momori.

Lumarto nodded in kind to Aislinn, holding the girl close and making sure she was warm. Clearly he had experience with kids, her face looked pale, but her hands were warming up to the touch a bit. Upon seeing the bone that Rolanda held out once more, he flinched and looked away before making sure once more that the girl was fine.

“Very gross. Thank you.” Momori accepted the wrist bone. She paused. “...I will send payment in the mail after I have reviewed the footage you’ve brought back. Farewell for now.”

Rolanda seemed glad to be rid of the bone and linkpearl both. "Until next time." She glanced down at the child. "Let me know if you need anything for the child."

Lumarto stared at Aislinn, taking a moment to slowly stand as he held the girl carefully. "I'm going to take her back, but any help would be appreciated. I'll pearl you if need be." he said, carefully patting the little one. "See you back at the company."

"I'll head back with you." Aislinn said suddenly, falling into step with him.

Bones, artifacts, Garleans, and one lost child. For the immediate moment, they all had a lot to consider.

#ffxiv rp #balmung rp #ffxiv crystal rp #Heartwood plots #Into the Tempest #Lumarto Wetyios #Rolanda Deschain #Momori Mori #Aislinn North

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littleeyesofpallas · 4 years

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I don’t usually dwell on American cape comic shenanigans too much, because it’s a fast and loose kind of writing that doesn’t really play well with being scrutinized or really thought about at all, at least any longer than it takes to get through a page, but man... this whole Tynion IV Batman thing is still rubbing me the wrong way... and what bugs me is how it’s definitely not all “bad,” and in fact a lot of the build up is great, but then the resolutions (or lack there of) are massive let downs, but then also he keeps skirting by with these loose ends that feel like they weren’t forgotten but that they might get picked up later. It would almost suggest he has a real big picture planned as a through line across multiple stories...

So, when Tynion took over with issue 86 and Their Dark Designs, he actually provided a great premise: In the aftermath of City of Bane and Alfred Pennyworth’s death, Bruce muses over his apparent old habit of sketching himself little snapshots of an idealized Gotham he holds in his head. We have a clear establishment of the theme of Design, and also the idea that Bruce has an end game in mind. He’s not just reacting to crime as it happens, he has a long term plan. This is a genuinely good angle to have for a Batman story.

To build on this, we learn that Lucius is working on some new tech for Bruce and he specifically marvels at how far Bruce’s war on crime has escalated. The bat-gear hasn’t just been getting more sophisticated over the years, its development is beginning to outpace its practical applications.

Additionally, we get a weird kind of distraction of a B-plot with various master assassins convening in Gotham under a singular organized job, but among them the spotlight falls on Deathstroke. Does Tynion talk about Deathstroke being one of the classic anti-batmen? Does he talk about Deathstroke’s healing factor? No. He talks about Deathstroke’s augmented brain processing faster than Bruce can keep up with (a trait most authors tend to overlook with Slade); this means his only means of competing with Slade is to have a plan that puts him down before his super fast brain can think of a way out, because implicitly he will out think Batman given time, and if they’re both whittled down to adapting to one another in the moment, Slade wins.

Again, our theme is Master plans/Designs/end games.

Enter the heretofore unmentioned legendary, nigh mythical, Gotham villain named The Designer has reemerged after an indistinct time missing from the criminal underworld. His claim to fame is planning 20 steps ahead, outpacing his adversary’s planning to snub any and all resistance utterly and completely.

He’s brought up because he once mentored Penguin, Riddler, Catwoman, and Joker in their early days(and in their 90s era outfits as a clever reference) and apparently the master plans he devised with each of them that were never enacted have been queued up by “someone.” Designer is back, but he’s supposed to be dead; In a painfully uninteresting, cliche “twist” Joker was too KuHrAaZzY to handle and Designer turned on him rather than finish his tutelage, and in the ensuing firefight the 4 Gotham rogues killed the legendary Designer.

So, there are a lot of fun questions this raises, like who the apparent new Designer is, what his plan is, and what he wants...

Bruce has another run in with Slade and launches into an awkward, kinda whiny rant where he tells Slade that if only super villains hadn’t wasted so much of his time escalating the arms race of powers and gadgets and gimmicks, that he could have fixed Gotham years ago. So, here we are again, this idea of plans, of reactionary escalation, and of the absolute need for a master plan that snubs the opposition before they can react and learn. Batman beats Slade, of course, which just goes to show what we’re always meant to assume from Batman anyway, that he already had Slade beat from the get go. He had a plan; Batman always has a plan.

So this is super cool! It took us kind of a plodding 6 out of 9 issues of this story to get here, but this is a good place! We know Batman has a master plan for Gotham, we know from what we’ve heard about plans/Designs as a theme that means he’s already got all his villains accounted for, and that he’s just going through the motions: turning the wheels to make the machine work. It’s only a matter of time, now.

I’ll be honest, my thought at first when I was reading these? I thought The Designer was Batman, or some part of Batman’s plan. That he’d resurrected this mythical villain as part of his own master plan, to perhaps trick all his biggest adversaries to go all in on a singular massive criminal enterprise that Bruce had already designed from the get go to fail, and to take them all down with it once and for all. It fit the profiles, and it felt like the natural direction this all was headed...

But then it was just The Joker. Designer really was dead, Joker brought him back, stole his master plan and pulled it off himself. He stole Batman’s money and gadgets, and took over Gotham (again). That’s it. It was a 9 issue/4 month long fucking prologue to Joker War. And more importantly... NONE of these themes paid off, even a little... And to be fair, if these had turned into something to be addressed and resolved in Joker War, I might have been okay with it... But they weren’t...

Also there’s a (would be)great little moment towards the end here where we learn that The Designer’s original nemesis, a master detective whom he crushed and humiliated, once taught Bruce “how to lose.” And this went nowhere. But it could have been super interesting, because what exactly does that even mean? Does it mean learning to accept loss and move on? Does it mean letting the opponent’s plan succeed because if they put everything into the one plan, then it means they never actually had a follow through, so now the board is wiped clean and everyone’s back to square 1? What exactly was the point of bringing back the Designer’s legacy if we just learned that the real Designer wasn’t even the master mind of this whole story?

So then we meander into Joker War, curiosity still piqued, but expectations drastically lowered...

Joker has all Batman’s gadgets: that’s actually kind of cool. I like the idea of Joker having infinite resources and Batman being the one working underground. It’s kind of been done before in pieces, but never quite as explicit as this. It’s not genius, but its a solid premise. Joker goes on a meta-rant about people watching “the classics” over and over, and audiences being content to see the same old story, provided it’s done right. (A bold called shot, Tynion.)

And we glimpse the mysterious future Batsuit that apparently Bruce doesn’t remember designing. It’s kind of a throwback to the gray and blue look of the silver age Batman, when comics were a little more cheery and goofy and child friendly. It’s a nice commentary on the idea that Bruce wants to make Gotham into a better place, not where he doesn’t need to be Batman, but where he can be a less grim Batman. It speaks to Bruce’s character, his vision for Gotham, and Tynion’s nostalgia that is now being strongly established as a driving force of these stories...

Joker’s plan involves paying Gothamites, in the middle of this citywide takeover by clown gangs, to attend screenings of Zorro, at which point he’ll kill them walking out of the theaters. Batman shows up at one theater, fights some Joker zombie things, get gassed, gets rescued by Harley and given an antidote that induces a hallucination chat with Alfred.

Laughably, in this talk Bruce admits “I failed...” when talking about letting Alfred die and letting Joker take over the city but then hallucination Alfred talks Bruce OUT of it. So whatever it was Bruce learned about losing from the old detective, this apparently wasn’t it; this was the wrong kind of losing.

Joker mentions part of his plan was to make a new generation of heroes and villains with the massive shared trauma of the theater killings. We’d been seeing bits of Clown Killer, but that’s it. He actually seems pretty cool, but he wasn’t really doing much more than cameo in this. No new villains* actually, not until the epilogue gives us the anti-hero GhostMaker.

*correction: there are a few retroactively established villains who are new to publication, but no new villains born out of the actual Joker War scenario.

The whole Batfam shows up to wrestle clowns. For some reason Tynion or DC editorial in general went to GREAT lengths to contrive Dick being back in the old Nightwing outfit, Tim being Robin again, Cass and Steph being Batgirls, Babs being Oracle, and Damian having renounced the Robin title for this... They don’t do jack shit; They wrestle clown goons in the background.

Yet, again one of Joker’s stupid genius plans ends with a fist fight between a highly trained martial artist and a guy in a purple suit and we’re expected to be excited about this. Harley shows up to trick Bruce into leaving Joker to die, but of course he survives anyway...

So there are a few themes here that got heinously underutilized... Joker’s super into this self-aware thing about this being just another Batman-v-Joker affair, and about recreating Batman’s origin, and we see this play out on the other side with the weird walk back on the Batfam’s costumes. But we know Joker will lose, so ostensibly the bottom line here should be that, no, actually... doing the same old thing isn’t enough, and people aren’t as predictable as Joker thinks.

But if we’re acknowledging this idea that Batman-v-Joker is a thing that happens in cycles and it’s always kind of the same thing, and people are sick of it, then you know what one undeniable fact of continuity flies in the face of that? That no matter how many times we reboot the universe and repeat this whole song and dance, Batman keeps accumulating more sidekicks. I’d have loved if this whole thing had just climaxed with Joker “winning” in his over elaborate 1v1 grudge match only to have half a dozen extra bats bust in and kick his ass.

But more over, Batman NEVER had any sort of plan in this... The whole lead up in Their Dark Designs, which took LONGER to set up Joker War than Joker War actually lasted, was about Bruce having this Design for Gotham... And Joker War goes out of its way to remind us of this lingering concept, and doesn’t actually do anything with it, but tries to still dangle it over us, like... “oh no, we didn’t forget it, it’s just for later!” And like, I’m still kind of on board for it, but less and less so the more this shit drags out without any satisfying benchmarks along the way. And it’s just super frustrating to want to give Tynion credit for the genuinely good set up he seems to have here... Except is it still a “good setup” of it ends up not actually setting anything up? or if what it sets up turns out to be disappointing and bad??

It’s just really bizarre to me that I honestly kind of desperately want to like Tynion’s Batman (Clearly I’m having a fucking field day digging my teeth into it) but in spite of the good that’s there, and the clear forethought that appears to have gone into it, he keeps tripping himself up somehow.

#batman

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