#|| set during the road-trip :3c
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@ardynzunia
"I see you haven't learned anything," Bahamut's voiced without warning, having appeared behind the immortal human.
"I've let you get away with a lot, but I will not have you influencing the Chosen King. I will give you a chance to leave on your own," but he was growing impatient. They had waited this long and he did not know what Ardyn planned, but he wouldn't risk it interfering with the prophecy.
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Broadway :3c
And I hear ya. (Insert spooky joke here) There is a sprawling WEB of central hubs, for The Arts. For trade. For getting drunk and having a good time. The Zone is large and it is endless. You'll NEVER reach the far end. It can never reach you.
All things, in gentle sweeping waves, across eternity.
So when folks want to have "a market" or "a movie theater" or "the waterpark"? You gotta PICK a point on the endless map. Figure if you are close or far enough away for others like it, to make it worth the effort to build.
You might even be the first to do it for GALAXIES in any direction! People might fly for WEEKS to come to your place! Move their Lairs to be closer too it. Like dust gathered by gravity, slowly creating planets and stars. A mega Lair. A CITY.
They rise, they fall, the Zone shifts all the while.
But!
Does the dead starlet stop singing? Does getting gunned down, stop the show?? I think NOT! Where is her STAGE? What musicals? What dramas? What operas and tragedies and forms unknown to human kind??! Ballet dancers who CAN defy gravity! Singers who have no NEED for air! The haunting blend of instruments, that could never in life have met! From empires long turned to ASH!
The greatest show in DEATH!
Ember was a world wide hit. Yes, her voice was hypnotic. But that could be FOUGHT. It was SKILL that carried the game. And she was hardly "I was Literally The Greatest My Planet Ever Produced" skilled. She was good, great even. Not "I was Born For Greatness" Excellence.
And like?
.....eventually? Danny's gonna ask after "cultural-y" Culture stuff. Clothes and food. Music and the arts. To help his parents get used to the whole "our son is half-dead" thing. To show he's not some mindless monster now.
And? Ghostwriter? Probably an absolute legend. Does he know where you can find some CULTURE? Oh THANK ZONE! He thought you'd NEVER ask! You unsophisticated-! *fist fight in a library* Still a dick, though. Always and forever.
And just? Imagine Broadway stretched out into a floating city. That never sleeps. Never stops. Shows ever changing. Some on a cycle, some only once. Dream-like. Beautiful. Eye catching.
And yeah, Danny didn't think he LIKED musicals. It was more of a Jazz thing. But? This was important! Gotta get the whole family in the Speeder. We're going to see a play, guys! We'll pick when we get there! Family road trip! Educational! We can make notes!
His parents are trying to be supportive. Big, fixed, strained grins. Trying to pretend to be excited. But they... DO seem reluctantly intrigued? And Jazz is all but vibrating in her seat. It's basically her "before you go away to college" present. And she is THRILLED.
The longer she excitedly speculates? The more into it she gets their folks. This IS gonna be new! Exciting! Never before seen Ghost Culture! Music! As a FAMILY! Think we could find souvenirs? Ooooh, wonder if they sell CDs??!
Then? They GET there. And it's... it's like seeing the Las Vegas strip for the first time, except multiplied into a city. Made of even MORE styles and eras. At angles gravity would never allow.
The air filled with laughter and excitement, people rushing to shows or humming bits of tunes. Street stalls. Fountains. Flowers growing everywhere.
They could stay for months and not even reach a fraction of these buildings. His parents are taking countless photos. His sister squeeling with joy as she races for an information kiosk like they just arrived at Disneyland. He, at least, remembers to lock up the Speeder. Grab their day bags.
When did HE become the responsible one?
The argue over shows. Obviously. Wouldn't be Fenton's otherwise. HE wants to see the alien one. It's from mars! But it's his sister's trip, as his dad points out, so she gets to choose. She picks a musical set during the Fall of Krpton. He's... reluctantly kinda interested. I mean, EVERYBODY likes Superman, right?
It's... it's amazing. Terrible, but amazing. I mean? A coming of age story cut tragically short? Oof. Hello, massively projecting then getting FEELS about it! Yeah, sure, rip my heart out why don't you? He's fine. No, really! Just drowning in his own emotions over here. The refrain of "A Life Well Lived"? *gargling dying whale noises* he's FINE. Not grappling with anything! Go on without him!
Thankfully?
They DO sell CDs.
He... he may end up, kinda, getting a bit of a collection. Going on the weekends, hoping show to show. Wandering to whichever catches his eye in the moment. Buying the CDs for one's he likes. Which? Honestly is a lot of them. Even though there's all sorts of genres and languages. Cause it... it RESONATES you know?
The grief. The anger. The "I have died but I wasn't FINISHED. It isn't FAIR.". And? Something about ghost speak flows so BEAUTIFULLY in song? It's hard to explain. But he... he needs them.
A pair of headphones, a CD, and a clear night sky? Nothing touches it. It's like a trance made of light. Like he can just drift.
The problem? Is the CDs are kinda... Zone made? They're radioactive, for one. Nothing a Fenton CD player can't handle. But... they? Also? Kinda fuckin GLOW? Like... very, very noticeably. And not in a "ha ha, cool glow in the dark paint!" Sorta way.
.........but like FUCK is he leaving his music behind when he goes to college. Gotham will have to deal. It's already a burning shit-nado, it can handle this. Probably. He'll put um in a lead lined box. Actually, speaking OF.... he needs to get a few more of those... *goes back to packing*
Which? Is how? The Bats are treated to some of the most HAUNTING music they've ever heard, belted and crooned from Some Guy's speakers, out an open window, on the "stop for a mid-patrol drink of water and a snack" building. It's one of the intersections of their patrol routes. And THAT? That is some dude listening to a Romani ballad about death and the circus. Now it's a musical about the trenches of an obscure war.
Okay, that was DEFINITELY Kryptonian. Like... coherent Krypto- *Bruce gets a call from Clark on his "work" number DEMANDING to know where that is coming from. Who is that voice Bruce?!* huh.... Well Then.
@hdgnj @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @spidori @mutable-manifestation @the-witchhunter
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dc x dp#dc x dp prompt#danny phantom#minji's writing#broadway of the Zone au#Danny's music au
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Remedy For Guilt - III
Summary: The daughter of Bellatrix and Rodopholus Lestrange is offered the opportunity to teach at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry after training as a Healer since her graduation. Her past haunts her and she relies on her old Potions teacher for help but what will happen when they get too close for comfort?
Rated: E for graphic sex scenes in later chapters. Over 18′s only please.
Word Count: 2293
Multichapter Fic (Expected to be around 30-35 chapters with a planned sequel which will take place during the Harry Potter Books)
An Unexpected Travel Companion
The school term was due to start in a week and Lyra had received a letter a few days prior, inviting her to come around early to set up her classroom and socialise with the other teachers. It was strange to think that those who once taught her a few years ago would soon become her colleagues. Lyra questioned whether she would get along with them, reflecting on the relationship that she had with them during her years as a student. She shrugged off her doubts and assured herself that everything would be fine and if not, well, it was only a year anyway.
Lyra had spent all week sorting through her things and deciding what needed packing. She had set it aside in a corner of her room which had slowly grown bigger as the days went by. Originally, she told herself to only bring the necessities but she had found so many things that seemed necessary whilst she was out shopping. Her Uncle Lucius came by her room the evening prior, asking what she wanted to bring and questioning how she would carry it all with her.
The day had come where it was time for her to go. Lyra insisted on levitating her belongings down to the foyer herself, rejecting the help offered by the Malfoy’s house elves. Draco looked longingly at his cousin as she organised her things to be moved. Lyra had been almost like an older sister to him for the years that she had stayed at Malfoy Manor. She had helped Narcissa raise him of course, babysitting him whenever she had come back from school. He had always acted like this when she went to school but over the past few years as she had spent more time at home Draco had grown more attached.
“When will you be back?” Draco questioned.
“I’m not sure but I promise that I’ll come visit when I can,” Lyra said, giving her cousin a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Three people had entered the room, her Aunt and Uncle, accompanied by a man she had not seen for several years. She felt her heart skip a beat as he approached, her eyes admired his form. The years had been kind to Severus Snape, he looked as though he had not aged a day since she last saw him. Even his hair was at the same length, his face clean shaven and his expression poised as she recalled it. What was unfamiliar about seeing her old Potions teacher once more was that subtle reaction she felt in her heart. She simply pushed those feelings aside, deciding it was a simple crush and a result of the lack of intimacy over the past few years.
“Severus has offered to assist you with settling into Hogwarts,” Lucius said.
The dark-haired man took a look at Lyra’s belongings piled in the house’s entrance. He raised an eyebrow and questioned, “Do you honestly need all that?”
“Probably not,” she snarked, “But your help is much appreciated.”
“Well then,” Narcissa began. “Stay safe, don’t do anything that would disappoint us.” She pulled Lyra in for a hug.
“I won’t make any promises,” Lyra said with a smirk causing Narcissa to scowl.
Lucius put a hand on her shoulder, “Are you absolutely sure you need to do this?”
“It won’t be that bad,” she said. She turned to Snape and said, “Hogsmeade? Let’s go.”
Severus nodded and they each placed a hand on a pile of belongings. With a quick spin, both Lyra and Severus disapparated from the Malfoy Manor.
Arriving at Hogsmeade filled Lyra with an overwhelming sense of nostalgia. She remembered what it was like when she walked down the street with her friends and checked out all the shops. She smiled fondly as she saw the Three Broomsticks where she shared a passionate first kiss behind the building with a Gryffindor boy. It felt as though nothing had changed, though it had only been about three years.
“Will we stand here until night falls, Lestrange?” Snape sneered, pulling her out of her memories that filled her head. “I don’t fancy standing here all day as you take your trip down memory lane.”
“If you wish,” she smiled cheekily, before waving her wand behind her. The trunks and cages she had brought with her levitated a metre above the ground and followed her as she began walking down the familiar road to Hogwarts. Professor Snape seemed disgruntled as he walked beside her but Lyra took no notice of it, her mind was preoccupied on absorbing the sights before her. Hogwarts stood brilliantly in front of the backdrop of the Forbidden Forest. It was truly a remarkable sight to behold, one she felt that she did not take enough time to appreciate during her years there.
“You could’ve asked your house elf to escort you if you’re going to be doing all the work,” the wizard said.
“I do recall Lucius saying that it was your offer,” she replied.
“We both know that Lucius is a liar.”
“So how did he rope you into this?”
“He wants me to keep an eye on you, not that I was going to let you return here without keeping an eye on you.”
“Your tone of voice implies that I’m a trouble-maker.”
“Don’t pretend that you’re not, Lestrange.”
Lyra chuckled to herself in response to Severus’ statement and their conversation came to a halt. They both made their way into the castle with no effort to speak to one another. Lyra knew her male companion would not want to engage in chatting and what had been exchanged so far seemed hostile. Each time he addressed her by her surname she could tell it stemmed from contempt. She began humming and singing to herself happily. It wasn’t that the silence was uncomfortable, no, she was quite used to not speaking with the Potions Master. After the incident where Severus revealed her name she vowed never to speak to him again. Of course, times change and she was now an adult in a position which required her to interact politely with her old Professor so she would but that did not mean she didn’t remember what had happened.
Lyra pressed her head against the wall outside the Headmaster’s office. She did not know the password so she just waited. She waited and simmered. She was so angry and upset, her fists clenched at her sides. A whole year had passed and no other teacher had mentioned her last name. She thought she was safe, she was lulled into a false sense of security where she could interact freely with her classmates but now…
Now everyone knew the truth. Anybody who didn’t already know the name Lestrange could research her name and find that her parents were infamous Death Eaters, a part of the Dark Lord’s inner circle. Anyone could see that she actively participated in the torture of witches and wizards and as a consequence wound up being expelled from Durmstrang Institute, a school that actively encouraged the use of the Dark Arts.
She was convinced that the start of her schooling here at Hogwarts could be a new chapter. She began to warm up to people other than just pure-bloods. The way they even spoke her name in class in those brief moments made her scared and upset. No one would want to be her friend anymore. She lifted her head and let it return where it rested with force and repeated the action. Tears spilled from her eyes and they splattered on the floor.
What would her parents think? What would her Aunt and Uncle think? They would be so disappointed in her. It was hard enough that she got expelled from Durmstrang but she always wound up in trouble and she believed that she honestly tried this time.
Her sadness quickly turned to anger as her mind drifted onto Snape. She hated him. He was supposed to be someone she could trust, someone her family said she could trust. She cursed herself for her foolishness. In that moment she promised herself that she would never speak to the Potions Master again. He did not deserve her time or effort.
“Lyra,” a soft old voice called out. “What’s wrong?”
Lyra and Severus passed the Headmasters office where her memories played. She sighed sadly to herself and her singing stopped. The rest of the journey continued in silence though she knew where she was going she didn’t ask him to leave. A few more minutes passed and they found themselves on the third floor in classroom 3C.
“Well, thanks for escorting me, Professor,” she said interrupting the long silence with a wave of her wand she sent her belongings into the office. “I’ll be alright from here.” She meant for this to be a dismissal of his presence but he lingered.
“I don’t think it’s wise for you to be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts, Lestrange,” he said.
She smiled and laughed, “Now, are you saying that out of concern or jealousy?”
His eyes narrowed. “I am not asking out of concern for your wellbeing but for that of the staff and students. I know your true nature.”
Her smile disappeared. “Don’t pretend that you know me,” she said, “I would never harm anyone in this school. Albus believes that I’ve changed, don’t you?” her head tilted slightly and her expression turned into an evil smile, “Don’t you trust your new master?”
“I think he’s made a mistake,” he said, “inviting you here to teach. You haven’t changed at all. So what, you studied to be a healer and suddenly you’ve reformed. You can’t erase what you’ve done.”
“Can you erase what you’ve done, Severus?” she hissed. “You’ve done much worse than me and I was there. I’ve seen it all so don’t act you’re better than me when you’re just as in the wrong as me.” She took a deep breath in attempt to calm herself before continuing. “If you think that I’m going to be going around torturing teachers and students, you’ll find out soon that you’re mistaken,” she said. She was tempted to slam the door in his face right then and there but she knew her manners and her place. “I appreciate your assistance, Professor. I’ll see you around.”
~
Lyra spent the rest of the day organising her things. She replayed the conversation that she had with Snape over and over again in her head. Could she have said something different? Did she honestly need to be so rude? It felt as if Severus had brought out the worst in her, a smugness seemed to come out; the same attitude that came out whenever she used the Dark Arts and wished to show it off. She knew she couldn’t let that happen again. She had to let go of the grudge that she held against him.
It was hard for her to come to terms with things that happened in the past. It almost felt like there were too sides of her fighting to be her dominant personality, one that loved the Dark Arts and wished to gain control over it and another that knew that the best way to exist was to help other people. She reminded herself that in a way teaching could help her achieve the latter.
The situation was made more difficult considering the fact the Professor Snape had acted that way towards her. How was she supposed to move on and do her best if he thought she was here to cause trouble?
Lyra worked well into the night trying to find a place for all the trinkets she had brought along with her. She didn’t even realise until she heard a knock on the classroom door.
“Come in!” she shouted from her office. She placed what she was holding In what she decided was the correct place and ran downstairs. She was greeted by a wise old witch with a magnificent pointed hat with a peacock feather sticking out of it. The older witch had a plate of food in her hands which she settled on the desk in the front of the classroom.
“Couldn’t help but notice you didn’t decide to join us for dinner this evening,” the Transfiguration Professor said.
“I honestly just lost track of time,” Lyra said. “Thank you so much for bringing me dinner, Professor McGonagall.”
“I’m no longer your Professor, dear,” she smiled. “You can call me Minerva, of course.”
“Well, thank you, Minerva,” Lyra said, returning the smile.
“Now don’t make this a habit,” Minerva lectured. “I expect to see you tomorrow morning for breakfast. Everyone is keen to welcome you and catch up so you better get yourself sorted and off to bed.”
“Thank you, Minerva,” Lyra said. “I hope you have a good night.”
“Don’t try to dismiss me,” she said. “What happened between you and Severus?”
“What do you mean?”
“He was in a right mood when he came back from escorting you,” she said.
Lyra scratched the back of her head, “He was a bit of an asshole.��
Minerva rolled her eyes, “I’ll set him straight, don’t you worry. Now I will leave you to eat and make sure you show up tomorrow morning or I will be extremely disappointed in you. Good night.”
Lyra smiled knowing that her disappointment was not something that no student wanted, not that she was a student anymore. She returned the ‘good night’ and Professor McGonagall nodded curtly as she closed the door behind her. Just as it shut Lyra’s stomach rumbled loudly.
“Well, who’d have known?” she said to herself as she eyed the plate of food.
#fanfiction#harry pot#hogwarts#fanfic#Remedy For Guilt#lyra lestrange#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fanfic#harry potter fandom#severus snape#oc x severus snape#severus snape imagine#original character#oc x snape#snape#RFG
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Character Solidifying
Answers to this ask meme because mun doesn’t know how to love herself and got up far too early to function so have some results
1. How does your character think of their father? What do they hate and love about him? What influence - literal or imagined - did the father have?
Gamzee thinks poorly of his lusus, the creature may have looked after him after his emerging but he was hardly around enough to have much of a positive impact upon him. He may have taught Gamzee about Alternia and ensured he knew of home and his purpose upon it, but that was hardly useful when the creature absconded and left him to his own struggles.
2. Their mother? How do they think of her? What do they hate? Love? What influence - literal or imagined - did the mother have?
The Mother Grub is the Mother Grub, not much else to say on that.
3. Brothers, sisters? Who do they like? Why? What do they despise about their siblings?
He’s got all his brothers and sisters in the crew Jade sister is definitely a fav, they chatter about their less than innocent jobs. Gamzee thinks it’s really fucking cool how Jade works He doesn’t hate any of his bros or sisters
4. What type of discipline was your character subjected to at home? Strict? Lenient?
It was most lenient, due to his lusus being mostly absent, he was able to do a lot of things he most definitely shouldn’t have been allowed to, including get himself hooked on sopor slime. After his lusus absconded, he had a very strict set of rules to follow when he worked for the original owner of what is now his bakery. Before the man was tragically lost during a break in… yes.
5. Were they overprotected as a child? Sheltered?
Not at all. Not at all.
6. Did they feel rejection or affection as a child?
He definitely felt more rejection than anything else, there was a complete lack of affection in his childhood.
7. What was the economic status of their family?
They were actually quite well off before the absconding, then his funds were flat locked (and may or may not have been stolen from him at some point by shady bank) and he had to do his best to deal with shit from there.
8. How does your character feel about religion?
Gamzee is all about the Mirthful Church, is here and he stands it. All of the here for his Grand High Brother and the rest of the Church, it’s all good.
9. What about political beliefs?
He’s just a big shrug, doesn’t have the time or the care. Just wants to do what he do, shit’ll happen and he’ll just keep going.
10. Is your character street-smart, book-smart, intelligent, intellectual, slow-witted?
Gamzee… is a special. He’s consumed all of the mind rotting drugs and he’s the most slow, very late for all of the things it’s not uncommon for him to respond to something that happened a while ago as if it just happened. He’ll also forget so much of what he’s just been told.
11. How do they see themselves: as smart, as intelligent, uneducated?
Gamzee knows he’s a bit of a dumb son, he’s fine with that, he’s all cool.
12. How does their education and intelligence – or lack thereof - reflect in their speech pattern, vocabulary, and pronunciations?
He doesn’t use a lot of bit words, uses a lot of profanity though and tends to speak slowly and a bit slurred, trailing off and tripping over his words at times.
13. Did they like school? Teachers? Schoolmates?
He didn’t really go to school, all of his teachings were very homeschooled kinda thing, first everything he learned from his lusus then what he learned from his employer.
14. Were they involved at school? Sports? Clubs? Debate? Were they unconnected?
N/A
15. Did they graduate? High-School? College? Do they have a PHD? A GED?
Nope, not at all. There was nothing to graduate so he done didn’t.
16. What does your character do for a living? How do they see their profession? What do they like about it? Dislike?
He’s a Baker first and foremost! He loves making miracles for people and sharing his baked goods! Loves seeing the happy faces and hearing how much people like his stuff Also works as a Hitman for the Crew, which he is also enjoying, it’s the closest he’ll get to what he was born to do according to his lusus and there’s something really satisfying in beating a motherfucker with his clubs
17. Did they travel? Where? Why? When?
He’s never travelled anywhere, just stayed in Midnight City that he knows off. He’s unsure if he was born on Derse or Alternia and he doesn’t have anyone to ask anymore.
18. What did they find abroad, and what did they remember?
N/A
19. What were your character’s deepest disillusions? In life? What are they now?
Literally all of the drugs he takes, those are some big disillusions right there. Also probably all of his miracles, would much rather believe in them then the truth of science and things that can be explained away. Let the boy continue to believe in his greater powers.
20. What were the most deeply impressive political or social, national or international, events that they experienced?
That would definitely have to do with meeting his Grand High Brother and being accepted into the Church proper, that was a very big impressive day for him and stays cherished in his memories.
21. What are your character’s manners like? What is their type of hero? Whom do they hate?
Gamzee’s not got the best manners, he doesn’t quite get personal space or a lot of social ques but he does his best to remember things he’s told if he thinks it’ll make somebody happy, doesn’t like setting people off or making them uncomfortable so he does his best to ensure it only ever happens once if that. He doesn’t really have a hero type? Is just kinda shrug, doesn’t mind hearing about ‘em though if somebody wants to chatter at him about ‘em. He currently has no potential pitch leanings or any hate towards anybody at this current time. At least nobody alive and it’s kinda useless to hate a dead person, would much rather spend his emotions on other things.
22. Who are their friends? Lovers? ‘Type’ or ‘ideal’ partner?
All of his brothers and sisters are his friends! All of them. His Jade sister is his favourite, murder buddies for life Currently doesn’t have any flushed partners/leanings nor does he really have a type or ideal partner, he’s happy to roll with things and let emotions pop up and fester where they do.
23. What do they want from a partner? What do they think and feel of sex?
From a Flushed Partner, someone that’ll stay afterwards and cuddle with him even if he is bony and uncomfortable and won’t be deterred by waking up in a clown octopus hold, rub his horns a little cause he likes that and he’ll purr for you From a Pitch Partner, please just hold him down and give it to him rough, pull on his hair the most good, also biting, yes for biting. And a good fight to decide who gets to be on top is always good for a very violent race >;3c Sex is good, he enjoys it, is messy but is fun. Enjoys both topping and bottoming with a bit of a lean towards the latter.
24. What social groups and activities does your character attend? What role do they like to play? What role do they actually play, usually?
He’s part of the Midnight Crew, works as a Hitman for them and sometimes brings and leaves baked goods for them, usually just what he hadn’t been able to sell that day but sometimes he’ll make shit just for them. Definitely prefers to just be told what to do about things, give him orders to follow and he’ll follow them.
25. What are their hobbies and interests?
All of the baking! Also enjoys all kinds of clown things such as juggling (I’m not saying he’s good at juggling blood-stained clubs but I really am)
26. What does your character’s home look like? Personal taste? Clothing? Hair? Appearance?
His room is a very chaotic place, messy but he knows where everything is so it’s fine, the only part of it that isn’t messy is where Deploy (his new cat) sleeps, it’s pristine and well maintained over there. But the rest of the room is mess and piles, the best one being his blankets and pillows pile, really just a nest but he likes piles more so that’s what he calls it. He doesn’t really have much of a care for what he wears, is really shrug about it and he often wears his clothes wrong anyways, because buttons are hard ok. His hair’s really soft and thick, wild curls that he does remember to brush sometimes so there’s an equal chance of knots and not. He looks lanky and a bit not-quite there, wandering hazy gaze and listing in place.
27. How do they relate to their appearance? How do they wear their clothing? Style? Quality?
Not really big on things like style and quality since how he wears his clothing goes really well with his general disposition of confused, not all put together and things could probably be better.
28. Who is your character’s mate? How do they relate to him or her? How did they make their choice?
Currently no Matesprit
29. What is your character’s weaknesses? Hubris? Pride? Controlling?
An inability to focus for too long and an over-zealousness for his job. Also the fact that he’s really friendly and that’s not the best quality for this life Gamzee.
30. Are they holding on to something in the past? Can he or she forgive?
Not really, Gamzee runs better with it’s better to let shit go and just keep going with his life, no point hanging onto grudges too long. There’s also the fact that a lot of his grudges tend to end in murals painted on stone but that’s not important.
31. Does your character have children? How do they feel about their parental role? About the children? How do the children relate?
Nope!
32. How does your character react to stress situations? Defensively? Aggressively? Evasively?
Typically he’s just go with the flow, unaffected. Others he gets a bit fidgety and would like to either leave it or if that’s not available to him, aggression is always a good road to take.
33. Do they drink? Take drugs? What about their health?
He takes ALL OF THE DRUGS. ALL OF THEM. His health is pretty not the best, is not terrible but is bad, is why he’s mostly bones, boi takes too many drugs and shit’s just fecked up now.
34. Does your character feel self-righteous? Revengeful? Contemptuous?
All of the no, not at all for any of those.
35. Do they always rationalize errors? How do they accept disasters and failures?
Errors happen all of the time, you just gotta learn from them and continue on, and if they continue, well you only need to beat the motherfucker harder.
36. Do they like to suffer? Like to see other people suffering?
Gamzee’s alright with a bit of physical pain, it adds a nice ping to the haze he’s usually in very enjoyable. He’s very meh about other people suffering though, doesn’t really care one way or the other.
37. How is your character’s imagination? Daydreaming a lot? Worried most of the time? Living in memories?
He is always daydreaming, mind’s always getting away from him and wandering off somewhere he doesn’t want it to.
38. Are they basically negative when facing new things? Suspicious? Hostile? Scared? Enthusiastic?
He’s pretty open and excited about new things! Unless someone he trusts and respects tells him to act otherwise, then there’s suspicion and wariness because they know what they’re talking about and they wouldn’t warn him without good reason.
39. What do they like to ridicule? What do they find stupid?
He doesn’t really care to ridicule anything or anyone, everybody’s off making their own miracles and that’s cool. Except disloyalty, that’s unforgiveable and a big no-no to him.
40. How is their sense of humor? Do they have one?
Everything is hilarious. Everything. All jokes are miracles and deserve to be laughed at.
41. Is your character aware of who they are? Strengths? Weaknesses? Idiosyncrasies? Capable of self-irony?
I think Gamzee is very aware of himself, knows how strong he is, knows he shouldn’t be around all of the people while he’s sober/raging and that he’s definitely not the brightest/best blub in the box. He’s fine with that. He is definitely capable of self-irony.
42. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?
I don’t know if Gamzee has anything he really really wants, probably just to make his Grand High Brother proud to associate with him and stay with him for some time to come. He needs his miracle pies as being sober is a terrible time for him and he hates it, absolutely hates how weighted and real everything feels, it hurts his head and makes him so easy to rage and he doesn’t want that please, would do anything to prevent it.
43. Does your character have any secrets? If so, are they holding them back?
Yeah, definitely. But more in the sense that they’re not really important and don’t need to be brought to attention at the current time. There’s no point bringing up anything about the roles they would have taken on Alternia as that’s neither here nor there and he doesn’t want his brothers and sisters worried that he’ll just murder them just because Alternian culture would have called for it.
44. How badly do they want to obtain their life objectives? How do they pursue them?
He doesn’t really have a life objective currently, he’s currently at a good place and is good with staying here.
45. Is your character pragmatic? Think first? Responsible? All action? A visionary? Passionate? Quixotic?
He doesn’t think first, if he did he’d never get anywhere because the thought would abandon him so quickly it would be hilarious and sad and nothing would ever be done ever. Even when he plans things it’s very quick spur of the moment, follow the thought before it escapes.
46. Is your character tall? Short? What about size? Weight? Posture? How do they feel about their physical body?
He’s a toll boi! 6’1” and all gangly limbs and bones! No fat on him whatsoever, there is some muscle but not too much. He’s very shrug about his physical body, his blood caste live a long time so he’s pretty sure he’s got another growth spurt or two in him, until then just ‘this is it’
47. Do they want to project an image of a younger, older, more important person? Does they want to be visible or invisible?
He doesn’t really want to project much of anything, what people see is what they see, he does try to be non-threatening, though that’s a bit difficult with the face paint. Doesn’t really try to be either visible or invisible, he’s just there.
48. How are your character’s gestures? Vigorous? Weak? Controlled? Compulsive? Energetic? Sluggish?
His gestures aren’t controlled at all, they’re a bit slow and dragging, sluggish is a good word for them.
49. What about voice? Pitch? Strength? Tempo and rhythm of speech? Pronunciation? Accent?
Very slow, slurred kinda scratchy. A low bass or a baritone
50. What are the prevailing facial expressions? Sour? Cheerful? Dominating?
A cheerful, if absent-minded and dopey grin, it tends to show off sharp teeth.
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the stars that touch the earth
Summary: Marinette and Alya go on a spontaneous road trip out of the city to see the stars that don't appear in Paris' sky.
A/N: Finally getting around to posting my Alyanette piece I wrote for PML’s Sky Zine! I forgot about it and I could’ve posted like a week ago, woops.
AO3
Blankets lay scattered across the balcony-turned-garden. Fairy lights were draped across the latticework, a few wrapped around the branches of a small tree that grew there. A couple of plates sat on the edges of the blankets, crumb-covered and forgotten as the hands that had used them just moments before intertwined with each other instead.
Alya and Marinette had their backs on the blankets and their eyes on the sky as they gazed upon the false stars in the horizon made by the city. Their breathing came in tandem as they drank in the night, moonlight illuminating the hope they clung to as they learned more and more about the world they lived in.
Sounds of the nearby river and passing cars filled the air, just barely quiet enough for the radio's static-ridden music to play over it. All of it was almost too loud for Alya to hear Marinette when she whispered, "Hey, Peaches... if you could change one thing about Paris, what would it be?"
Taking a moment to consider her answer, Alya shifted to prop herself up, and stared out across the city she and Marinette both defended. "I think... I think I would love to see the stars again, so, less pollution... more care for the environment. That would be nice."
Marinette hummed in agreement. "I think I'd like the same."
Their conversation petered out after that, they simply laid there, basking in the presence of each other just long enough for Alya to fall into a light slumber. Marinette's gaze moved from the landscape and settled on her partner, her best friend. She watched her during a couple of songs before she grabbed her phone and started to text a certain superhero and model friend of theirs.
[From: Mar You Ready]
[To: Camembert Boy]
hey i need a favor
please
think of it is a way to make up for the day of dead flowers
[From: Camembert Boy]
[To: Mar You Ready]
I've apologized for that like 100 times
it wasnt my fault nino spooked me :(
who puts flowrs that close to the edge anyways
what do yoy need though, my lady? ;3c
[From: Mar You Ready]
[To: Camembert Boy]
can als and i borrow one of your dad's cars tmrrow?
[From: Camembert Boy]
[To: Mar You Ready]
ummm i dont think i can get a car for you :/
but!! the van i use to help nino lug his equipment around should be free
want me to drop it off tomorrow morning??
[From: Mar You Ready]
[To: Camembert Boy]
please!!!! btw dont tell als
and also thanks love u, goin to bed now so i wont msg back :*
sweet dreams, purrfect boy
Dropping her phone beside her, she curled into Alya's side, dragging a blanket over Alya and herself and falling asleep.
When morning came, Marinette woke to a bright-eyed Adrien staring down at her, shaking from silent laughter.
"You guys are the most irresponsible responsible people I know," he whispered with a chuckle. "C'mon, get up." Holding his hand out to her, she took it and was pulled to her feet, careful so as not to wake Alya.
The two went inside and talked quietly about Marinette's plans. Adrien, as supportive of her spontaneity as ever, smiled and nodded along with everything she said.
"...and I was thinking we'd stay out most of the night and bring the van back tomorrow. Is that fine?"
"Yeah, that totally works. Nino won't need it for a couple of days anyways- we're going on a couple dates," he said, waggling his eyebrows.
Marinette snorted and playfully pushed him. "Where're you planning on going?" she asked, getting up to start prepping for the trip.
"I dunno, Nino wouldn't tell me… It's all a big mystpurry," he joked, laughing a little too loudly when she threw a pillow at his face. "C'mon, you have to admit that was a good one. If you do, the keys are yours." He took them from his pocket and held them above her head in a teasing way.
"Alright, fine. That was a purrty good one," she admitted, smiling ear-to-ear.
"I've taught you so well," he said, miming the wiping away of a tear.
"Ha ha, very funny." She rolled her eyes. "Anyways, I hope your dates go well."
"Thanks, I hope yours does too," he replied, stepping forward for a hug before handing her the keys. "Drive safe, alright?"
"Will do, Chaton. Ask Maman and Papa for something on your way out."
He gave a nod, another quick hug, and bid her farewell. Marinette tossed the keys into the air and caught them, glad that Adrien had been so receptive to her plan, and rushed to get ready before Alya would wake.
Thirty minutes went by, and Marinette had managed to shower, throw a few blankets in the backseat of the van, pack some snacks and beverages, and program the GPS to bring them outside the city. She ran inside to her parents, and explained to them her plan. They, unsurprisingly, supported her wholeheartedly, even going so far as to insist she take the fresh batch of pastries they'd just set out to cool. Marinette, thankful, agreed and gave them each a quick hug before going back to her balcony to jostle Alya awake.
"Sweets, time to get up, love," she murmured, sinking to her knees to press a kiss on Alya's cheek.
Alya's dark lashes fluttered at the contact, and soon hazel eyes met blue, one pair sleepy and curious, the other alight with excitement. Marinette shook the keys and smiled widely.
"Get up and shower so we can get this thing started!"
"Get what thing started? And what if I didn't wanna shower?"
"I'll still love you," Marinette promised. "And our road trip, of course!"
"Our.... our what? When did we plan this?"
"Road trip. And not we, I. You said you'd love to see the stars again, so I thought we could do that. How's about it?"
Alya hummed. "Let's just cuddle here for a few more minutes, then I'll get up, 'kay?" Without waiting for a response, she moved so her arms wrapped around Marinette and nestled into her legs.
Marinette let out an airy laugh and set the keys down so she could play with Alya's hair. Alya sighed contentedly and Marinette relaxed further, falling into the soothing motions and losing track of time. Only when her mother called up from her room's entrance did both of them break out of their trance-like state.
"Guess I should get up now, huh?" Alya breathed, holding Marinette tighter even as she knew she'd have to let go.
"That would probably be best," Marinette smiled.
Groaning, Alya started to get up, and Marinette helped her to her feet. "So, you go shower, and I'll double check that everything's ready! Meet you in the car in 35?"
"Sounds good," Alya replied with a yawn as she stretched her arms and climbed down the hatch into Marinette's room.
Marinette grinned and followed after, snorting when she sees a ladybug clinging to Alya's shirt. She brushed it off and made sure it got outside before going through her list of things needed once more.
By the time night fell, the couple had gotten lost or went the wrong way no less than eight times, not that they cared. Each time the GPS had to reroute, they broke into loud guffaws, tears forming in the corners of their eyes. They also needed to stop for gas once, and they were lucky to be heroes, because the vehicle had ran out of fuel before they could reach the station. Needless to say, the employees were somewhat shocked to see the famed Ladybug pushing the van into the lot with a cackling civilian in the driver's seat. Still, even with all of that, they made it to their destination on time, and Ladybug, who had promptly hopped into the driver's seat and forgotten to detransform as she drove off, pulled off of the road a ways and came to a halt.
"So, Mademoiselle Ladybug, have any time to answer a few questions for your biggest fan?" Alya teased, poking Ladybug's shoulder.
"I dunno," she answered, "are you sure you're my biggest fan?"
"Oh, absolutely, without a doubt."
"Well, if you say so, I'd love to answer some questions for you."
"Great!" Alya unclicked her seatbelt and leaned into Ladybug's side. "Question one... do you love me?"
Rather than answering with her words, Ladybug turned towards her and pressed a kiss to the corner of her lips.
"Second question: if you could be anywhere in the world, where would you be?"
"New York," she said without hesitating, laughing when Alya punched her in the shoulder. "Okay, okay, you're right. I wouldn't want to be anywhere you're not, so right here is perfect."
"Aw, you do love me."
"Well, of course."
They exchanged a small smile.
"Question three. If I asked to kiss you, would you let me?"
"Not until you ask question four."
"You know me so well. Okay, we'll hold off on kissing. The final question I have for you is: will you detransform and reveal to me your secret identity right now, where no one else will see?"
Pink light flooded the van for a short moment, and when it faded, Marinette sat in Ladybug's place, smiling from one ear to the other. "I would do it without an ounce of hesitation, every time," she admitted, so honest that Alya flushed just the tiniest bit.
Not knowing how to go on from there, Marinette leaned in so their foreheads touched. "How about that kiss now, Mademoiselle Reporter?"
"On the record?" she asked, inching closer, leaving just enough space between their lips that Marinette's inevitable response might close it.
"On the record," Marinette confirmed, closing the space without a second thought.
Their kiss was soft and sweet, but in no way did it lack passion, even as it drew to an end as quickly as it began. Marinette pulled back.
"We can continue this interview later, if you'd like, Peaches. But for now, I think we should check out the stars in all their glory."
"Probably a good call," Alya said with a chuckle. "If we don't stop now, I think we'd miss the entire night."
"Probably," Marinette agreed, unbuckling herself and getting out. From the back, she took out multiple blankets, all old projects of hers. It took only a few minutes for her and alya to spread them out on the van's top, and an extra couple of minutes to turn the radio on as well as bring up the food and drinks.
The two settled in, laying down with their shoulders touching and their pinky fingers holding onto each other in an unspoken promise. The stars shone brightly in the sky, twinkling and dancing in the reflections of their eyes, closer just then than they could ever be otherwise.
If Marinette had to pick one word to describe the moment, the only one worthy would be 'perfect.' There was truly no other place she wanted to be, and there was no one she would rather be with.
As if reading her thoughts, Alya rolled her head enough to leave a kiss on Marinette's shoulder and whispered, "I love you, Mari."
"I love you too, Als," Marinette murmured back, pressing closer into Alya and burying her nose in her hair. One thing she had come to appreciate over time was the constant of how Alya smelled. At first, it was peaches and cinnamon. But, as time went on, it became the smell of home, of comfort, of not being alone. Marinette loved how she smelled. She voiced it, and felt Alya's hand cover hers completely and squeeze, putting forth all the words she wished to say but couldn't convey through words alone.
"Als?"
"Yeah?"
"I hope tonight never ends. The stars. You. Us. I don't want any of it to end."
"It won't end."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"Thanks, Alya," Marinette said, relaxing fully into her side. Her head lay in the space between Alya's own head and her shoulder.
"No, Mari. Thank you," she replied. "You helped me see the stars again, after mentioning how I missed them just once. And you made sure I wasn't alone by coming along. This is one of the greatest things anyone's ever done for me, and I'm so, so impossibly grateful for it. Again, thank you Mari. I hope I can do something similar for you one day."
"You already have, just by being here with me." She gave a warm smile and turned to face the sky again.
A streak of light flew overhead, and instead of making a wish, both thanked the star for their wishes coming true on the first day they met. Their wishes, which had asked for happiness.
The night went on.
#miraculous ladybug#alyanette#alya césaire#marinette dupain-cheng#adrien agreste#ml#platonic adrienette#background adrino#my fic#fluff#Ladybug#Alyabug
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friskid
-who believes in love at first sight?UHH, FRISK DUH-who started liking the other first?mmm probably mk :3c -who is more likely to suggest a romantic, candle-lit dinner?The master of flirts themself-who’s behind the wheel more often during road trips?Probably frisk bc they have aRMS -who sets up the tent and who gathers firewood during a camping trip?mk can probably set up a tent, however, the small buff themself gets the wood -who hooks bait during a fishing trip? who catches more fish?Frisk hooks the bait because they're Tough, and mk cheats in the fishing category bc they're a huge ass dRAGON-who insists on learning how to ballroom dance?Neither of tHEM THEYRE BOTH TOO CLUMSY -who goes all out on the other’s birthday?mk, they're really considerate :3c -who sings louder while cooking? while showering?FRISK -who teases the other for said singing?mk :^)-who insists on checking their zodiac sign compatibility every so often?PROBABLY FRISK LOL-who drags the other to fortune tellers at fairs?FRISK AGAIN -who would carry who over the doorstep of a new home?mK JUSS PICK UP UR DATEMATE
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