#And also enjoy dunking on bad writing with those who agree
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miraculouslbcnreactions · 15 hours ago
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Do you have any thoughts about the Love square Ship? I just realized that a huge reason why they are happening is because they are 'fated to be together' just cuz they're ladybug and chat noir. Aren't the writers shooting themselves on their feet? 'Cause it just means that Adrienette only love each other because they're LadyNoir.
The love square has fallen into a trope I like to call the Sk8er Boi trap. This is a reference to the opening question of Avril Lavigne's famous song:
He was a boy She was a girl Can I make it any more obvious?
Yes. Yes you can make it more obvious! I'm not going to ship these two based on gender alone! Give them depth! Give them substance! Make me care.
To be fair, Miraculous didn't start this way. The first two seasons of the show did a decent job setting up the crushes. It wasn't amazing, but it was enough to see the potential, especially when you paired it with the fun of identity shenanigans. Those early seasons also felt like a promise that more depth would come with time as is typical in a slow burn.
Instead, as time went on, the crushes became ever more superficial because the show has committed to maintaining a status quo that doesn't allow for a deep, meaningful romance. Without that depth to really sell the ship, Miraculous is relying on the audience shipping the love square because Adrien and Marinette are the endgame couple and that's about it. The quality of the relationship doesn't matter. All that matters is that the show says that they're meant to be. It's disappointing, but annoyingly common.
For reasons beyond my understanding, there is a decent subset of the population who are happy to play this game. If the writing says, "these two are meant to be," then this audience is happy accept that no matter how little substance the couple has. Heck, they'll ship couples that are straight up toxic!
The audience in question seems to be here for the drama and the passion, not the love and depth. Give them twists that come out of no where! Give them ridiculous miscommunication! Give them poor characterization! They'll take it all so long as it's shocking and dramatic. I don't get it, but it's not a fringe preference. It's straight up popular right now. Couples like this dominate mainstream romance, YA, NA, and romantasy. They're all obsessed with drama over depth, but that's the opposite of what I want. I will take depth over drama every day.
My ideal romance is a cute boring couple made interesting by the extraordinary circumstances they're dealing with. I thought that's what the love square was going to be, but I have given up on that hope. It started to really die in season four and season five straight up killed it.
You'd think that a show aimed at kids would be free of unhealthy romances since there are a lot of topics a Y-7 show can't touch, but apparently not! Season five's love square feels like it's an awkward, kiddified version of the kind of trends that have made me avoid mainstream Romance, YA, New Adult, and Romantasy for the past few years. Every book I've tried made me rage (insert reductive "are the allos okay" joke here). So, to answer your question:
Aren't the writers shooting themselves in their feet?
Not really. They're not writing a deep nuanced romance, but they are writing the type of frustrating, drama-laden romance that some people adore. As long as a subset of those people are willing to watch Miraculous, the show will be successful. I don't get it, but Goodreads has shown me that people love this shit, so I'm stuck waiting for the current trends to die off or for a new genre to pop up that leans towards what I like. Such is life. It's not like there's nothing good out there. It's just harder to find since it's not on trend right now. Plus there's always fanfic! That's my main source of romance. I look for other things in original fiction.
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breserker · 1 month ago
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im noticing a disconnect. people are lamenting that they want people to read books more (as an indie author i agree read mine) but then i go onto youtube and see video after video mocking and making fun of books they clearly dont like for even existing.
im not talking about ai books or booktoks nonreading trend, im talking about books that were written and published being sneered at for having predictable and problematic elements. I cant get over the thumbnails ive seen where a book clearly billed as a gothic romance being derided for having a teacher student dynamic (gods forbid! it should have incest next time like the old gothic novels of yore that are cemented into the literary consciousness) or for fucks sake taking a clearly fetish romance book and splaying the "YOU SPAYED MY MATE" line as if its a condemnation of literary value when its just fucking wank material, get over it??
and i know you may be like but these books are bad and written bad and you fucking know what? i dont care. dunking on them is for groups of likeminded friends. and i know a huge problem is youtubes algorithim is designed for farming negativity, positive love for books get less viewed partially because they dont get pushed!
the point is. how the fuck is bashing books you deem problematically beneath you going to foster a love of reading. how is that going to foster authors who are bold in what they want to write even if you find it skeevy or wrong or bad. how are we going to encourage a healthy relationship to books of all kinds in a wide variety by condemning them?
and its like. some negative reviews ive clicked into have been nuanced and thoughtful. even of my favorite books! those ones rarely lean into the awful thumbnail culture youtube has. the point is not to never negatively review something, the point is to pull back from the slavering feast of enjoying bashing someones work for having offkilter tropes. am i judging a book by its cover? certainly. thats how thumbnails are supposed to work in this landscape.
i want to listen to more book reviewers but i cant get over the culture youtube has fostered. yes the publishing industry is very fucked right now, i decided to go the way i did with my books because of it. yes omg a book like that can be published....and you can too!!!!!!! alright? fuck. shit.
a book is so hard to finish writing, man. there are books far more worth this level of scrutiny, often in the nonfiction section like fucks sake doormat mom just released a book and its harrowing to read for all the wrong reasons. that feels like itd be influential of toxic people to remain toxic. because thats directly what its targeting, not some fictional wank material based off hormonal caste systems and also no one remembers what gothic actually means anymore.
christ im so mad. if you want people to love books you want them to love books. controlling what that love looks like and what books its directed at means you care more about controlling peoples values and tastes more than people loving books
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liquidstar · 1 year ago
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hi with this post going around i wanna copypaste some replies i left in response to another reblog too. the rebloger was saying that its also okay to enjoy problematic content (which, to be clear, i agreed with on a base level, but felt it needed more context since that can often be code for something much less nuanced)
this one should come with a bit of a disclaimer about whatever the thing youre enjoying is and in what way though. thoughtcrimes arent real, but actively choosing to watch lolicon hentai is a conscious decision. though ik thats not what youre talking abt here, i just feel like its something important to bring up, bc of how these types of discussions can get warped to mean "my frozen incest fanfiction is actually totally ok and if you disagree youre harming ppl w OCD" which i dont want the take away to be. i dont want ppl to use vague stereotypes of my disorder as a talking point to justify that kind of shit- because thats not the point and also doesnt help people with OCD at all! esp with POCD to be lumped together with... that crowed. again ik thats not what you mean im just saying it to clarify the slippery slope before someone takes it there for real! critical thought is important at all turns and such. and people with OCD are not incapable of critical thought, or understanding when media can actually be harmful in the real world. we still know how to separate the two, as should most people. that's what i mean by the response to it mattering more than the act of consuming. we might struggle a bit more with aspects of this, usually in the mental side (ruminations and obsessions) and thought crimes arent real! but actual actions are!
unfortunately, you wont actually see these replies if you check the comments (which is why i added them here). because i was blocked seconds after leaving them. apparently, even though i gave the responder the benefit of the doubt with the whole "slippery slope" of "yeah! fiction doesnt effect reality! lets all draw explicit content of children!" i checked and they... actually did in fact write what seems to be voltron pedoincest fanfiction and had "antis dni" in their bio (i missed that somehow, honestly thats on me). i think they also deleted their reblog, so i doubt people will find them. which is for the best because im not trying to get harassment sent anyones way either.
but this is still exactly what i was afraid of- our disorder being used as a talking point for the same stupid pedantic tumblr discourse that was the issue to begin with. being used as if we're not autonomous people who can make our own choices regarding media consumption, but rather an objectified hypothetical to get a moral one-upping in the black-and-white view of the outgroup. stop that shit. if youre here to do that either way YOU are part of the problem. you are not helping those with OCD this way. and the second that is pointed out you will delete the post supporting them and block the op? fuck you!
and the thing is, in terms of OCD, ANY mentality with a set of morals presented as all-or-nothing black-and-white is harmful. if youre seeing this and thinking it "dunks" on the other side of the discourse, youre missing the point. because the other side does the exact same shit. in this case, the argument with that "pro" crowed is basically "either all media depictions of xyz are good, or all media depictions of xyz are bad, and since i enjoy some depictions of xyz then they must all be good, and anyone who says otherwise is an evil anti" (aforementioned black-and-white thinking).
so with that, you posit the idea that anyone who has any sort of critical thought or issues with certain tropes of depictions of sensitive topics in any piece of media ever, must be an Evil Puritanical Conservative, ergo you have to never voice critique in media or the way it's engaged with. HOW THE FUCK IS THAT BETTER FOR PEOPLE WITH MORAL OCD? YOU ARE JUST AS BAD!!!!!!!!!!!!
dont you dare use this shit as a talking point in your pedantic discourse when the whole point of the post is THATS THE ISSUE TO BEGIN WITH! this shit is just as much the root of the problem as what i was talking about in the post. dont use this shit to outright tell us that we cant think for ourselves and have to go by your stringent unnuanced discourse as a guide. thats the issue. thats the problem i was talking about to begin with. YOU just as much are the voice of the fictional tumblr discourser inside our heads, youre just using different buzzwords. and this site continues to be awful to people with OCD. fellow OCDers do yourselves a favor and, like me, get the fuck out of these groups.
look this site really is awful for ppl with OCD so i just wanna reassure anyone that you are not Tainted Forever for consuming a piece of media with questionable content. the fact that youre able to recognize it speaks to your critical thinking skills, which is good, certain depictions should be critiqued. but you dont need to ruminate on it to the point where you begin to feel guilty for simply witnessing gross or creepy writing choices. you dont have to vindicate yourself to the fictional tumblr discourser inside your head, saying that youre now a bad person bc you watched the wrong anime. your actual response to it still matters of course, but thats that and this is this. just seeing it is neutral, you didnt commit a thought crime. its literally fine.
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phoenixyfriend · 3 years ago
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When Obi-Wan gets to AotC, there's also about two dozen Anakin clones on-site. They're all girls because... IDK Anakin is trans. They have a hive mind and are developmentally a few years younger than Anakin himself.
It's incredibly unsettling to Obi-Wan.
It's almost definitely a "fuck with Anakin's already fragile mental health" ploy by Palpatine, along with a "what if Jedi Black Widows, for me, a Sith Lord. Wouldn't that be neat? That would be neat."
Anakin is torn between "this freaks me out" and "GANG OF BABY SISTERS LET'S GOOOOOOO."
(I just finished reading Like Real People Do by glimmerglanger, so this is definitely inspired by that and the obligatory 'lay back in bed and daydream variations on plot points of that fic you just really enjoyed,' and also a little by Same Heart, Same Blood by loosingletters.)
They're physically like 14-16 on average, and Anakin's vibrating out of his skin with a million conflicting emotions, but when he tells Padme she's just like "oh, you have a handmaiden gang!"
I told this to @willowcrowned and she suggested:
Once Anakin decides to repress the part of him that’s weirded out and just regard them as baby sisters he gets. A little strange about it The first time one of them dies he may or may not slaughter every person he can [in response to Padme's comment] Anakin starts worrying that he needs to get them cool matching outfits
I also chatted about it with @firebirdeternal and they said:
Gang of Unsettling Smol Siblings is exactly the Karma that Anakin deserves
Do you think the Clones have a kind of Collective Name that they use at first that eventually just kind of morphs into a new last name? Skysisters or something? Like Palpatine was trying to be clever and name them like the Nightsisters.
I initially went with "functionally one person" hive-mind but I'm torn.
I think maybe they're BASICALLY one person on Kamino but drift into Separate Consciousness once they're far enough apart physically that their minds don't blend from proximity anymore.
Then they start Dating (like half of them are dating Fett clones because they grew up with these dudes, it's like childhood friends romance), and Anakin loses his mind about Protecting Them and They're Too Young.
Padme: You're nineteen and we just got married, they can date. Anakin: THEY'RE EIGHT. Padme: And the Fett clones are ten and dying for us in the field. Get them rights before you panic about their love lives.
Firebird:
it could be worse, one of them could imprint on Obi-Wan. "Anakin I promise I won't yell at you for the next five stupid things you do if you can figure out a way to stop this baby from having a crush on me" (I like the idea of Obi-wan bargaining not with "I won't be mad at you ever" because they Both Know That's Not True, and instead haggling with specific allowances. Like he's handing out Stupidity Coupons)
Please imagine Mace and Obi-Wan's personal responses to the idea of suddenly having to deal with not one, not two, but OVER TWENTY SKYWALKERS.
Plo is delighted to take one off their hands.
So is Yoda.
Willow:
Mace is like. okay suicide isn’t the Jedi way but on the other hand. i physically cannot deal with this Yoda: a skywalker, you say? one who is tall enough to reach the top shelf, you say? such a skywalker, bring me
Anakin would be given at least one because fuck you, suffer with us, but he's still a padawan so Ugh, fine, no.
I want to say one stays on Coruscant to hang out with the Guard, and ends up half-adopted by Padme. She keeps dressing up the Aniclone left with her in handmaiden outfits and sending selfies to Anakin.
"Hanging out with the little SiL!"
Anakin has so many issues about WHEN his genetic material was acquired.
And there's some confusion from the Fett clones about how much of a hive mind is normal for Jedi. They are confused that the answer is basically none, and "this is WHY nobody clones a Jedi"
ONE OF THEM STEALS BOBA FROM THE ARENA ON GEONOSIS.
Firebird:
"I have followed in our progenitor's footsteps and acquired a sibling." holds up a struggling Boba "He bites."
Willow:
Ooooo okay so if they have a sort of hive mind then they probably don’t have names other than their designations on Kamino right BUT When they SEPARATE The one that picks Boba up on Geonosis gets a name specifically for that. Okay what if the one Padmé picks up gets some variant on ‘pretty’ because she’s always being dressed up BELLE Maybe Yoda’s Ani has a name that means thief? Because obviously Yoda is using Anakin to steal sweets
So, to make the timeline work...
I don't think anyone would give Anakin one of his sisters until after he's knighted at least.
So obviously when they're doing initial placements none of the sisters go to him or Obi-Wan.
Once he's knighted, of course they're already all placed with someone, and Anakin instead gets Ahsoka. He loves Ahsoka. She is also a little sister. He said so.
At some point afterwards, one of the sisters is left without a place because the Master that was in charge of her died in the field battle.
That sister then gets placed with Obi-Wan, because he's already mostly-successfully raised one Skywalker, so he can do it again.
Anakin gets to hang out with her basically all the time.
Ahsoka is very very jealous of this girl stealing Anakin's attention.
Anakin is oblivious to the rivalry.
He asks Barriss to look after them while he's discussing Adult War Things with Luminara and Obi-Wan, and Barriss gets an eye into This Mess, which is quickly colored by Ahsoka growing a puppy crush on the lovely Miss Offee herself.
Firebird:
Ahsoka: Ah yes, my nemesis. Anisister: Ah yes, my new older sister whom I want to impress so bad.
"I will impress her by being Stoic and Competent" "Oh my god she must think she's so much better than me what a bitch"
Anakin is oblivious to most things to be fair Anakin: Laser focused precision fighting machine who can read the tiniest body movements and predict your moves seconds in advance, who also cannot understand even the most basic social nuance. I was originally writing this as to Dunk on Anakin but then I made myself sad, because none of those things are really his fault.
So you know that post about like, Sasuke and Brooding, specifically in the context of "Brooding" as it's used to refer to Nesting Chickens? Grouchy and protective and sitting on a tennis ball trying to hatch it because they're just. "These are my Babies." Anakin Broods. Baby sisters. Must protecc. "I'm actually fine and extremely deadly in combat." "MUST PROTECT."
Bad Guy: [catches Ahsoka in a Trap] Aniclone: Must rescue sister! Aniclone: [fights, is not winning fight, gets ouched] Ahsoka tearing her way out of Trap: I lived bitch. Also: stay the fuck away from her. [murders so hard]
Ahsoka catches the Protective Older Sib feels by the traditional method: "Hey, only I'm allowed to be mean to them."
Willow:
Oh Anakin has no clue what’s going on. He walks in on Ahsoka glaring at the Ani and is like!!! Little sisters!!! Bonding!!! When Ahsoka was about three seconds away from tossing her out of the airlock. Ahsoka mistakenly assumes that Barriss has a crush on the Ani, and gets even MORE jealous.
Obi-Wan is like oh god. I can’t take care of an Anakin going through puberty again. He’s great with periods and other stuff because he read about a billion books. He is TERRIBLE with everything else, as he was the first time.
Barriss is like???? YOU'RE BOTH CHILDREN, PLEASE CALM DOWN, I HAVE ZERO INTEREST IN DATING ANYONE, LET ALONE SOMEONE YOUR AGE.
IDK how old Obi-Wan's Aniclone is, probably physically the same age as Ahsoka?
Per @atagotiak on discord:
Also something something, similarities btw Anakin and Obi-Wan where like. "Am I a parent? That seems uncomfortable, I'm too young to be a dad to a kid this age, I mean I'm cool with being a mentor/caretaker but..."
Obi-Wan can't even sidestep parenthood this time.
"Is Anakin basically your dad?" "Uhhhhhh" [Muffled discussion] "So Obi-Wan is your dad." "Okay!" "WAIT NO I DIDN'T AGREE TO THIS"
Ahsoka: She's stealing my brother, that BITCH. Obi-Wan's Aniclone: new sister new sister new sister gotta make a good impression
Firebird:
I feel like the Sister Squad would make very effective interstellar espionage agents Even like, kind of by accident. They just get encouraged to branch out in their interests and figure out what they want to do with their lives and end up all over the dang place, and since they're all pretty dang competent they tend to gravitate towards Important Positions wherever they end up. Except for one sister who just retires to raise Space Sheep.
I like that in this AU Palpatine is just like "I will create an army of Loyal Murderers who will obey my every whim and also be a big psychological lever on my Other Pet Murderer," and then they all just Baby Duckling imprint on the first Jedi to be nice to them instead and he has to just be like "Wait no not like that."
AND one of them Steals Boba
I want Obi-Wan's Aniclone to start dating Fives. All the sisters judge her for it, because he's a Goof. A very competent, ARC Trooper goof! But a goof.
Not as goofy as Anakin, though.
Firebird:
Who expects a clone of Anakin Skywalker to not make questionable lifelong romantic choices impulsively?
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whatifxwereyou · 4 years ago
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The Oncoming Storm First Interlude: Electricity in the Springs
Kung Lao x Reader
Look, I don't even think these fit into the actual timeline of the story? But it was fun to write. An imagine that still fits in this Oncoming Storm universe! Will post Liu Kang here in a second. AND ALSO I could not make them kiss before they kiss in the actual story, so again, I'm only kind of sorry for the torture! Lol.
Part 1 of The Oncoming Storm Second Interlude: Steam (Liu Kang x Reader)
The training session had been rough that afternoon. You felt you’d more than earned a trip to the springs after how exhausting it had been. Besides, your inky arcana kept leaving you soaked. The only time you truly felt clean after a fight like that was when you got to bask in the springs. You understood why Liu was constantly covered in soot now. It was easier to function as a mess than to go out of your way to the springs. Worse than that, the springs were a time suck. You’d come down there and fall asleep or get carried away listening to stories told to you by the monks that frequented them.
That day was no different. You made your way to the springs, towel wrapped around you securely, and you joined a group of female monks who had invited you to sit with them. You listened to them speak about their day animatedly and then sat in comfortable silence while they continued to talk amongst themselves. You tended to check out when you were no longer included but had caught them talking about you several times.
Their gossip was never a bad thing, but they did enjoy teasing you for the company you preferred to keep. The fiery Liu Kang and handful that was Kung Lao. The monks jostled you awake and then bowed respectfully and said they had to take their leave. You were fine with that. There wouldn’t be anyone else in the springs but you and you would bask in the warmth of its waters and the emptiness of its walls.
Closing your eyes, you relaxed in the water and resigned that you would likely fall asleep for the afternoon. It almost always happened every time you came down there. Why did you resist the siren call of the relaxing water? You had no idea. Honestly, you weren’t sure why you resisted a great many things those days. Perhaps it was out of habit, perhaps out of guilt. Who knew? The human psyche was complicated and you had no aspirations of figuring it out.
Footsteps were followed by a familiar energy but before you’d sat up and opened your eyes, Kung Lao had leapt into the water and a great wave of bubbling warm water soaked over you in a wave. You fell over with a laugh. Upon correcting yourself, you were met with a face full of water. Kung Lao was splashing you, a grin on his face.
“What’s wrong with you?” You laughed, wiping your hand over your face. He splashed you again as if to make a point, though what the hell that point was you had no idea. You splashed him back as he made to speak and he coughed, spitting out water. You chuckled and swam a little away from him in case he retaliated.
Narrowing his eyes at you, he considered his options. “Oh, now you’re in trouble.”
“What? You started it!” You swam further away, making your way into the next pool but Kung Lao pushed into the water and the wave that it resulted in knocked you back into the water. You yelped and barely caught your breath before being submerged. He offered a hand to pull you back up and you smacked his arm then splashed him in the face. You coughed up water and then splashed him a second time for good measure.
“I didn’t mean to drown you!” Despite his insistence he was still laughing, so much so that his face had turned red.
“It’s not that funny, Lao.”
“It’s pretty funny, Y/N.” He purposely called you by your full name almost constantly. You’d thought it started as him teasing you when they were kids but now it was kind of sweet. He was the only one who did it. Even Liu Kang called you by the shortened form of your name. Kung Lao settled next to you but you scooted a cautious foot away from him. He laughed and purposely closed the gap between you again. “Hey!” He objected when you pushed him away again.
“I don’t trust you for a single second.” You accused and he seemed to think your words over before nodding.
“That’s fair.”
“You came in here very… chaotic. You do know that people come here to relax, right?” You gestured toward the water.
“What people? It’s just you. Figured you could use some action.” Kung Lao rested comfortably, arms outstretched on either side of him, taking up an impressive amount of space for one man. That was when you realized that Kung Lao was completely naked and your expression must have changed so severely to alarm that he’d noticed. “What? It says clothing optional on the door. The towels get all heavy and saggy.”
“You are a mess of a human being.”
“Oh? And you like me, so what does that say about you?” He laughed, pointing an accusatory finger toward you.
“I’m deeply flawed, obviously.”
“You’re defensive, is what you are. Always have been.” He clicked his tongue in disapproval then closed his eyes as he leaned his head back. He’d gone from hyper and attacking you with water to relaxing as though he’d been there all afternoon.
“Remember when I was that comfortable?”
“You need to learn to relax, Y/N.”
“I was relaxing, Kung Lao!” You splashed at him and he wiped his face free of water.
“Come on. Relax with me!”
“You are such an antagonist.”
“Sue me for having a little fun.” He stuck his tongue out at you then closed his eyes and relaxed again. You settled a bit away from him, sinking further into the water and avoiding looking at him. When he didn’t tease you further, you finally relaxed and closed your eyes. You heard the movement in the water but didn’t think much of it. When you opened your eyes, Kung Lao was crouched in the water before you, watching you.
“…you okay?” You asked curiously. He nodded and took your hands, pulling you further into the water with him. You leaned your head back with a whine and he laughed as he kept pulling. You allowed him to do so and he took you further into the pool until they were treading water. “You just can’t let me relax. That’s it. I’ve figured it out.”
“Tell me that this isn’t relaxing.”
“…it is.” You averted your gaze but agreed.
“What’s with the look?” He urged you to spin in the water with him and you laughed.
“I’m tired. You’re so needy right now.” He wasn’t usually like this. Well, he did have a fondness for pestering you but usually it was less pulling you around and more teasing.
“No reason.” He lied, right to your face! You saw it in his eyes. “Are you really bothered by me?”
“No.” You shrugged. “It is fun to give you a hard time though.” He laughed and splashed you lightly again. “So help me, Kung Lao…”
Much to your surprise, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close in a hug. You stiffened up at first, expecting to be dunked but his arms instead were comforting. He didn’t seem willing to let you go so you relented. Sometimes fighting with him was impossible anyway. And who were you to argue with him? His arms were strong, surrounding you, and offered you a deep security and indescribable warmth that was far beyond that of the springs.
“I’m really glad that you’re here, Y/N.” His voice was different then. The usual lilt of teasing was gone and it was deep and serene, a rare seriousness beyond his usual playfulness. There was a special place in your heart for Kung Lao. A hole that only he could fill, a hole you hadn’t realized was there until you’d been reunited with him.
“Me too, Kung Lao.” You watched the corner of his lip curl into a smile, fixated entirely on his lips. His hands brushed slowly over your back and then he rested his chin in your hair, offering the top of your head a kiss. You placed your hands against his chest and basked in the comfort he brought you. You leaned back up with every intention of telling him you were going to fall asleep and drown if you stayed there but found him watching you. The look in his eyes was so serious that you weren’t sure how to process it.
You pushed some of his messy hair away from his face. He took your hand and rested it on his strong jaw. That was your Kung Lao. All grown up and one hell of a man. Your fingers crept over his jaw and down his neck, eyes following your fingers. He tilted your chin back up, closer to him. His lips brushed just barely against yours and he hesitated, as if unsure that you would reciprocate. You would have, but that moment of hesitation was enough for you to wonder if either of you were ready for that.
You smiled and placed your other hand on his other cheek. Then with a yell, you leaned back and shoved him underwater, jumping up to do so. Then you swam backwards and away from him. When he popped back up and shook out his short, wild hair with a spray, he stared at you in disbelief. Then his smile returned, as if he understood why you’d done what you had done. You shared a knowing look.
“I’m going to get you back, Y/N. Just you wait for next time.” He swam to the other side of the springs and climbed atop the stone. You sunk into the water and turned away because there he was, naked, and making his way to the locker room. You stole a look when you were sure he wasn’t watching you. He had the cutest little butt, good god.
You sunk further into the water with a sigh. Placing your fingers to your lips, you swore you could feel the residual touch of just that gentle brush of his lips. It filled you with confused butterflies. There was no relaxing after that, so you made your way out of the springs.
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holycow99 · 3 years ago
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石田お寿司 12/9/21 stream translation Part 4
This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk.
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(t/n: ** means translation may not be accurate.)
I: We’re talking about the commemoration of 30,000 subscribers, right? What should we do?
C: Is this a chatting stream?
I: Well, yeah.
C: Let’s play game now.
I: I’m totally okay with it.
C: I feel bad that I pinned this person’s comment. Should I unpin it? This is what’ll happen if you guys aren’t careful with your comments. You’ll be exposed. I’ll forgive this person.
C: Please do streaming of you working on lyrics.
I: I’m totally okay with something like that.
C: Have you ever received hair?  
I: I did receive something similar. A deep red colour. Was it a wig or something? This is a true story.
C: Scary!
I: I didn’t think it was scary though. I was like “I see…”. It was unique.
C: Have you received a marriage registration form?
I: No, but I once received a purikura photo from a gal. The letter was cute. She’s seriously a gal, with the round letters and all. She’s super young and the purikara was cute. The content of the letter was hilarious. She’s like “Let’s hang out!”, “It’s fun!” “I read TG! I don’t understand it, but it’s fun!”.  She’s totally a gal. It was amazing. How did I get that? That’s a good one, though I didn’t get to hang out with her.
C: Eh, is it okay to send purikura?
I: I’ll just take a look at it if you send one. I won’t do anything about it. Nothing will happen.
C: Impressive move.
I: Right? But I think it’s the culture. I wanna experience this kind of culture as well. I want gals and Exile fans to read my works, not just people who have read TG. I wanna write something that everyone can enjoy.
C: You wanna interact with gals?
I: I wanna try. Normally, you won’t be able to, right? Have I ever talked to a gal before? A real gal. Avu-chan was super gal-like. Avu-chan is a gal. My first encounter with a gal was with Avu-chan from Queen Bee.
*He’s imitating Avu-chan’s way of talking.
I: I see. So there’s a lot of way to enjoy TG.
C: Seems like you’d be a grandpa.
I: Definitely the case if I ever meet a gal.
C: Are you extremely close with her (avu-chan)?
I: I’m the type who approach the other party. Well, I’m sure everyone is like this, but don’t you have different personas? I wasn’t pretending or anything, but I wore a gal persona for the first time when I was with Avu-chan. Avu-chan has a gal-like personality, so I thought I also needed a new persona.  By the way, have you played the game Persona? Just like how the main character attained new personas, the gal persona came out aggressively from behind me and possessed me.
I: Akechi is cool, right? (t/n: Akechi is a character from Persona 5.)
C: Please impersonate Avu-chan.
I: Avu-chan’s impersonation? “But then~”. How is it again? “Sui Sensei is~”. But she talks about deep stuffs, even though she’s a gal. Although she’s a gal, she’s someone with a lot of knowledge.
C: can you read gal’s alphabet?
I: I can if I try hard enough.
I: I wanna include a gal character in choujin x.
C: Sensei seems to have high communication skill.
I: I don’t think so. There’s a term called ‘communication monster’. My friend, Takahashi Kunimitsu form Osterreich is a communication monster. He knows how to hype people up, since he doesn’t say offensive things.** He can join in conversations with anyone, anywhere like a clown. Then, he’ll be very tired after that. It’s wearing him out on top of having a high communication skill. That is a communication monster. I can join in a conversation as well, but unless it’s with someone I’m fond with, I won’t. It’s tiring.
C: People who are good at getting along with others do exist.
I: Yes. He’s good at that.
I: Kunimitsu’s seriously amazing. He got along with a granny he just met in a bar. I just listened to their conversation the entire time.
C: Isn’t that considered as a communication disability if you get tired by it?
I: I do think it’s a sign of communication disability**, But again, that’s just another side of it. It’s the same as shy people who can speak well.
C: Was it the one you posted on twitter?
I: Yup. The one at the bar in Nogata. Was it in Nogata? Probably there. But I think band men have great communication skill, since they meet various types of people.
Y****: I don’t like gals.
I: That’s not good. You’re in the theatre club, after all. Someone involves in theatres can’t be bias. It’s okay if you don’t like them, but it’s better to come across them.
C: Is it important to talk and meet with various people?
I: Hm, I wonder. I think it’s important, especially when you’re still shaping your identity. I speak like this because I didn’t manage to meet and get along with people. I was super serious whenever I was invited to a live show, like the time I met Mr. TK. I was super serious every time I met people when I was in my 20s.
C: You did meet Gegegay, right? (t/n: Tokyo Gegegay is a Japanese dance & music group.)
I: I did. I might not be able to converse with him if I didn’t come prepared. They’re super nice though. Mr. Mikey’s punch was strong. I was like “so we’re gonna have this kind of conversation on our first meeting.”. But it was really entertaining. He’s actually being considerate of me. Somehow, I’ve had a conversation with Mr. Mikey and Ms. Reol, just the three of us remotely. Mr. Mikey was really considerate during the conversation to make it very enjoyable. I was amazed by it.
(t/n: Mikey is the leader of Tokyo Gegegay. Reol is a Japanese singer.)
C: Have you ever met Hirose Alice? (t/n: Hirose Alice is an actress. She’s a big fan of TG.)
I: Nope. I think it’s better not to meet her. There’s no chance to meet her.
C: Who’s the person you’re most nervous with when you met them?
I: It’s hard to tell, but I felt nervous every time I met someone for the first time. Then, the feeling gradually disappeared after I got to know them. That’s not good, isn’t it? But, when I met Togashi sensei, it’s more like a dream. It’s an indescribable feeling when I met him. I was like “This kind of feeling exists.” I was nervous when I met Avu-chan as well. But rather than feeling nervous, since she was very nice, I was able to talk a lot. It was fun.
*Someone asked if he had meet Masataka Kubota.
I: I’ve met him.
C: Do you have a mentor?
I: Probably Hara sensei. The word ‘mentor’ is hard to describe. But, he’s somewhat a mentor-like presence to me. I don’t know.  
C: Do you like Yonezu Kenshi?
I: That’s needless to say. Everyone likes him.
*Someone asked if he’s met Horikoshi Kohei sensei (BNHA’s author).
I: Nope. We have the same age.
C: He drew the draft while lying down, right? (t/n: OP probably talking about Togashi sensei.)
I: He showed me how he did the draft.
*Someone asked if he’s met Inoue Takehiko sensei (Slam dunk’s author.)
I: Nope. If Hara sensei is considered as my mentor, though I can just call him that, Inoue Takehiko sensei would be my mentor uncle.
C: Was Masataka Kubota good-looking?
I: He’s super good-looking.
*Someone asked if he’s met Kotoyama sensei (Dagashikashi’s author).
I: I’ve never met her.
*Someone asked if he’s met Araki Hirohiko sensei (Jojo’s author).
I: Nope. Wait, I did. It was when I was still an assistant. My senior, Matsubara Toshimitsu sensei, who’s writing a manga called Kurogane no Valhallian in Young jump, was like “Araki Hirohiko is here! Let’s meet him for a bit!”, and I agreed to him. Araki sensei is on another level, as expected. He’s super-duper famous, after all. All the assistants were surrounding him, asking him for pictures. When it was our turn, my smile was so stiff when I took a picture with him. I was too nervous. It was a distorted smile. Then, Mr. Matsubara accidentally stepped on Araki sensei’s foot. He’s like “I’m sorry! I accidentally stepped on your foot!” By the way, I went to the new year’s party in my pajama, which had curry on the sleeve and took a picture with Araki sensei. The clothes were shabby. Since Araki sensei was a nice person, He complimented me saying the it was fashionable. I was so thankful. He complimented my pilled and curry stained clothes. I was happy for that. I went there wearing pajama because I didn’t have any other clothes. The clothes were in a white colour. I went there wearing a parker with dull pants. He was really cool. Very young-looking and a wonderful person.
C: Have you gotten a chance to meet Miura Kentaro sensei (Berserk’s author)?
I: No, I’d never met him. I liked him a lot. I still like him. I can’t continue talking about him. It’s too sad. I can’t express how I feel other than I’m sad. Death. Regarding this, I wish people wouldn’t pray to the dead souls so casually. I don’t like praying to the dead souls nor do I like people doing that as well.
C: Have you met Mengo sensei (Scum’s wish’s author) and Aka sensei (Kaguya sama’s author)?
I: I’ve met Ms. Mengo a long time ago. She’s always present at parties. She’s quite stand out as well. She’s wearing cat ears the first time I met her. It was cute. I think I have met Akasaka sensei.  Probably just introduced myself.  
C: You’re a mangaka, but have you been surprised by other mangakas’ personalities?
I: Pretty much. Like their images or...Well, aren’t you like that with everyone? Isn’t it normal to be surprised by their images, physiques, and voices? Since you never imagine about those things.
C: I want you to meet Isayama sensei.
I: Isayama sensei’s also the same age as me.
C: I have met Itagaki Keisuke sensei (Baki’s author)!
I: So you’ve met him. I see.
C: Have you met Inagawa Junji (actor & director)?
I: I want to.
*Ishida was about to read a comment but stopped.
I: People will keep asking who I’ve met if I answer this, so I’ll skip it.
*He still answered the question.
I: I’ve never met Ryuuichi (illustrator & character designer). He’s gotten married. He looks happy, so it’s all well. Ever since before, I didn’t think he had to be that self-asserting. He didn’t need to tell who he was. It’s already written in his account. I was like “Don’t worry, everyone knows. Everyone sees it.” Well, he looks happy, above all.
C: I was excited seeing Hara sensei at the Kingdom exhibition.
I: Oh, he was there.
Part 5
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shihalyfie · 4 years ago
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hi! this is out of curiosity, since when do you start to watch adv series in its original jap. ver.? do you find any difficulty in trying to adapt, get used to it? like the voices, names of the characters, music, the way the story is presented. i first watch the series in my own language and the english ver (not the us ver., more like asian english ver.) before i encounter the original jap. ver. during my teenage years and get used to it over time until now. i'm okay with dub ver, but i always prefer, love to watch the jap. ver. more than other dubs.
(Note: This was cleared up later with the asker and various parties, so mostly leaving this for posterity: while it's not universally well-known, "J*p" is a slur originating from WWII, so I ask that people please be careful about not using that even as an abbreviation.)
Regardless of language, I've always been interested in original versions of any dubbed media for as long as I've been consuming media (I won't say I'm necessarily a purist, I just happen to have a natural curiosity for what must have been the original source), so I'd been interested in the Japanese version of Digimon ever since I first got into it, and had been following it ever since it started getting translated. If you know anything about Digimon and subbing, it actually took some years for most early Digimon series to get decent quality subs in full, so I thank everyone involved for their hard work, especially since the prevailing attitude at the time was that "the (American) English dub didn't change anything substantial anyway" (ignoring the fact that there would still be good reason to have the Japanese version on hand even if that were the case...) and the demand for it was even more niche than it is now.
I didn't really have problems getting used to names. I did have to get used to the voices, because since I got in with the American English dub initially, I had a strong attachment to the voices I'd associated with them there (and I still do, even if I haven't fully watched the dub in years!), so there would be things like Yamato (Kazama Yuuto)'s voice being much deeper than I'd expected, or Agumon's voice being completely different in general, but I got used to it quickly because I felt like everyone fit their character perfectly in their own way. The music was a bit surprising, but I was never too incredibly attached to the original music anyway so it was mostly just discovering something new and fun. Other than that, I guess I was incredibly surprised by how different of an impression 02 gave me, especially Daisuke; having been eyeing 02 in Japanese since translation efforts first started, I knew there had been some changes (Hurricane Touchdown...) but the actual degree really surprised me, especially since, as I said, the prevailing attitude was that "it didn't change much". Part of the reason I write so extensively about how much the 02 dub changed is that I personally witnessed firsthand how much my perception of the series abruptly shifted after my first time watching it in Japanese, and how nearly impossible it became to hold analytical conversations about certain smaller details with people who mistakenly over-applied dub things to the Japanese version because "we're actually talking about two different things, aren't we..." never comes up thanks to how prevalent this myth is. Driving this home further, I don't have this issue at all with fans who had their own local dubs more closely adapted from the Japanese version, so the problem really isn't whether it was in Japanese or not, or whether it was a dub or not, as much as the fact "the script really did change that much".
Currently, I guess I would say I have a pretty complicated relationship with Digimon's American English dubs. Like I said, I don't necessarily think I'm a purist or anything, and even though I have an increased stake in watching things in Japanese since I can actually understand much more about the language than I used to, I myself still enjoy a good dub and also completely understand and appreciate the nature of what dubbing entailed in those days, the dub's role in getting Digimon to a wider audience, the reason people prefer dubs and how important this one is to people, and, heck, I still love the voice actors. At the same time, this "it didn't change anything significant" myth has been really damaging and frustrating to deal with, because you get pointless, unnecessary arguments about people trying to talk about two very different versions of the series and arguing because they don't realize the characters they're discussing weren't even written similarly (hi, Mimi and Daisuke). Even if people do acknowledge the changes, there's also a tendency to worship that dub, so even though I feel my complaints about it are pretty legitimate ones (my gripes mainly being that I'm uncomfortable with the characterization changes, I feel many of the changes caused a significant adverse impact on the story and characterization integrity especially in the case of 02, and I get a bit of a bad feeling about some of the cultural localization attempts in dialogue borderline crossing into racism), it's frustrating to constantly get shut down because everything should be excused as long as it was in someone's childhood, and it's also frustrating to see these dismissals applied to people who had their own aforementioned local dubs and are upset at how this impacted their own childhood, but are thrown under the bus because their own dub is treated disrespectfully as if it were "secondary" to the American English dub somehow being the enforced, mandated standard for any kind of localized Digimon outside Japan.
I completely understand that a lot of this is lashback developed from Japanese-version-only purist camps being obnoxious about dunking on dubs, but it's uncomfortable observing the results of the fallout when you're kind of here in the middle not wanting to dunk on it for the sake of dunking on it, but also having concerns that you feel everyone is dismissing you for. (Not helping is also the fact that obnoxious purists love to dunk on people for having a personal preference for dubs; there are a lot of reasons to prefer them even if you're aware of the changes, personal emotional attachment and accessibility reasons being among them, and my grievances have more to do with the "it didn't change anything" myth still being prevalent, the experiences of having any criticism I have of it being so easily dismissed, and the fact that a combination of both means that having strong loyalty to the Japanese version gets you pinned as being an unusual purist or being overly picky.)
Also, I think one thing that isn't often talked about is that there's a huge difference between the dubs of everything up to 02 and the dubs of everything between Tamers and Savers (Xros Wars we'll...leave aside for now, haha). In the case of the latter, the aggressive joke-adding is much less intrusive, the changes (including to characterization) are less significant, and you can even see this in that Diablomon Strikes Back's dub has much closer dialogue and characterization to the original than anything else from the 02 dub. So a lot of what I said above actually just applies to Adventure and 02 more than anything. For series after, I don't make it a habit to watch their dubs as often these days, but I'm still familiar with them and have my own pretty strong sense of nostalgia for the Tamers and Frontier ones in particular, and for anything after 02, I haven't had any particular experience with other fans regarding trying to discuss the series but finding we're talking about two different things, other than maybe one or two minor things that had to be cleared up every so often. So in that case I myself also agree more with the idea of mostly treating the dubbed and Japanese versions as the same thing, whereas with Adventure and 02 I honestly feel they need to be treated as separate and distinct things.
In the end I guess the take-home I have here is that I feel like my experience going from the dub to the Japanese version has been a lot less shocking or eventful than dealing with the perceptions and stigmas around them from other people...^^;;
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ordonianhero · 4 years ago
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Dawn of a new Adventure
A Linked Universe fan fiction. No real warnings needed other then a bit of language. its 2,408 words. Angst/fluff. Little bit of everyone involved. 
Synopsis: The weather get really bad and they just need to find shelter. However the more they journey the worst their moral and mood get. Things get testy. will they find shelter?
Authors note: this came about with our own stormy winter weather blasting through where I live. I hope you enjoy. feel free to create art from any of this or any of my other writings. I would love to see what stuck out to all you creators out there. I love the whole family platonic like bond like thing...so for the life of me don’t go turning this in to LINKCEST or anything NSFW.  The Creator Jojo has requested so and I am with them on that. thank you. Now enjoy. 
*******************************************************************
Wind: dang we missed the before the story stuff.
Hyrule: well someone had to take their time.
War: excuse me?! I can’t just go walking out in plublic in nothing but lounge wear.
Legend: SHHHHH shut up you three. the story is about the begin.
-silence-
loud popcorn crunching comes in the direction of Wild. Everyone angrily looks at him. Twilight take the bowl away.
story begins- loud sounds of Hyrule entertainment played by kudzus, by fairies. Time having to swat them away. “Enough!”
 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
  "It's raining sideways!" grumbled the Veteran. The rain blasting at them all as they trudged through a storm. The hair dripping and sticking to their faces. "Surprised its you who is complaining and not our Captain." The smith stated, his hood over his head. The heroes all had experienced unwelcoming weather. However it never makes for an easy journey. The leader of the group was equally not in a pleasant mood with such weather. The cold temperature and soaked clothing seeped into his sore joints from old injuries. He kept his mood to himself, however I knew they best find some sort of shelter. Cloaks did nothing to protect them with the wind blowing harshly, and Rain blinding them with every step they took. Their boots muddy and soggy. If they didn't find shelter soon, they were bound to catch a cold from it.
 They all halted under some Trees for some cover after some time. The rancher blew into his hands attempting warm part of himself up. The wind picked up again, the Trees creaked and moaned. The rain pounding ever hard. This was some storm that had happened. It being winter, that'd be expected. The leader of their group rubbed his sore joints. "So do any of you know which Hyrule we are in?" asked the captain, attempting to ring out his royal blue scarf. Pointless really. They all looked at each other. None of them knew. The young sailor seem to cling to Sky, as he shivered. "only if we had a map or something to show us a place for shelter." The smith stated shaking out his boot. Wild has been quiet, he had done on his warm doublet and his hood, however now even those were failing him.  The rancher shook out, rain water getting ever, a useless thing to do. however it helped him at least be able to see things better. The water droplets had started to form on his eye lashes. "I am sure if we keep moving we will find something." He then suggested. Standing around getting more soaked wasn't going to fix their situation. They all nodded. "so would you like to take the lead then?" suggest the Leader. Rancher looked over at them and then over the rest. "I can take over." He replies, adjusting his sword and pelt. The leader came over and placed his hand on his shoulder. The rancher could tell the Old man was hurting bad. The rain was starting to slow down enough. "Okay, let's get going then." he states as he turned to lead them down the path more. He wasn't very comfortable taking lead. The captain stuck closer to the old leader then, while the wild one and traveler joined the rancher in the front. ********  They had wonder for hours it seemed, as the rancher lead them through the dense woods. It only provide them with some protection from the raging storm going on. The mood in the group had started to get very unpleasant. Some grumbled under their breaths, some whined, and some just stayed quiet. Their mind filled with images how much a warm bath would be nice or a warm fire, with a warm drink. A bed for comfort. It's amazing how weather can make one romanticize little things other's take for granted. Even Wild, who enjoyed the outdoors was thinking about the comfort of a good shelter. His Hyrule always being unpredictable with the weather. The rancher even was thinking how much he would give anything to have a bowl of warm soup. That also reminded him of the time he visited the yetis. Dunking warm baked bread in to a bowl of soup. All their minds were swimming with wishes and images of comforts. So much so that they were all so lost in thought. As the rain once more came down hard. Big, hard, Fat rain drops. "Okay, Could Hylia please let up on us for once." Grumbled the Veteran and in a what would of been comical moment, they all seem to slip and fall like dominoes in the mud. The young sailor sat up and slammed his fists into the puddle he fell in and sob, "I can't do this. This is fucking miserable. I would take being flung out of a canon then this." Sky came over and helped the young sailor up and held him. The captain helped the Older leader up. "probably best we find a cave or something." he tried gently suggesting. "too bad the wild child's stupid slate cant bother work or we wouldn't be this stuck." the veteran angrily says trying to get some of the mud off his tunic.  
 Wild looked down, his wet hair covering his face. Rancher turned and snapped, "Hey, that aint his fault. We're all in this. Sorry we don't have some 'magical' tool that will just go 'hey, there's a good shelter over there!' " his finger pointing out in some random spot. He bore a face which the veteran has never seen. the rancher rarely snaps and is often more comforting or stern. However never snippy or angry. If he was, he never let it on or turn on other. The veteran now felt guilty for lashing out. The rancher was often protective for sure. he knew he picked the wrong person to go after. "Okay let all take it easy." said the Older leader, rubbing his side he fell on. "Getting snappy won't get us anywhere. we got to just got to keep a look out."  They all stood quiet for a bit, the young sailor was still buried into sky, softly sobbing and shivering.
 The rancher turned and closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh. His breath could be seen in the cold that was creeping in more. He placed his hand on the back of wild and rubbed it gently before moving forward. The other's then followed in step. It was only when they walked a few more miles, they all saw in the distance, illuminated by light among the dark woods. "A CABIN!"  Squealed the Traveler. "wonder if anyone live there?" questioned sky as they all made their way towards it. "who'd want to live way out in the middle of nowhere in thick forest?" stated the Captain. The older leader stayed quiet. "some just do." replied the rancher. The veteran snored, "right." As they approached there was a sign that sated, "Traveling camp cabin."
 "oh! it like the cabin's I came across in my hyrule. It's a place for travelers of all sorts to take shelter in." wild explain. "Is that so?" said the smith. "Yeah. see- they have a place where you can even house your horses." they all looked. "well that mighty nice." the rancher said with a smile. They opened the cabin door. The room was semi large. a single bed, a old wooden table where a leather book laid open. A fire place with cooking pot and kettle hung. Wood off to the side of it. It looked unvisited for some time. the room floors creaked and the building smelt of smoke from previous visitors. A few spiders had made their home there in the odd corner of the building. Rancher tended to making sure Epona was set up in the side horse stall with fresh water and food. Dry bedding and a warm blanket over her back. After he dried her off. He then brought in everyone's packs. Wild had gotten a fire started.
 The group respectfully left their muddy boots by the door. Then they each shed their soaked clothing and put on dry ones. Placing the soaked ones to hang on a well placed wire. One of them brought in some water from the nearby stream, placing some off for cooking and the rest was to wash the mud and grime. it wasn't a warm bath, but it would do in the mean time. They had all agreed the Older leader could take the bed. The rest placed their bedding off to the side for when they would go to sleep. Wild made work on making some hearty soup and Traveler went about making tea. They stayed quiet for some time. some took to doing a bit of work on their items. Such as patching up hole in their clothing, placing new chainmail links and removing damaged ones. Traveler came around handing them a nice herbal tea. To sip on while food was still being work on. The Moment the warm liquid touched their lips, there a unison sigh from everyone. The tea hit the spot in helping in warming their cold bodies up and the warm fire heating up the space.
 The smell of the food wild was preparing was also welcomed. Just a simple soup of creamy meat soup. which consisted of whatever meat wild had on hand, milk, herbs and vegetables. There was a little rack above it for warming bread, which he did. The Rancher had his blanket over his head as he stared down at his chainmail and made work with getting all the broken rings off and putting in new one. The young sailor looked over his shoulder and watched in awe. The Veteran also doing so. The Captain, Old leader and Smith worked on their weapons. Sky stuck with Traveler and Wild, helping where he could. When the rancher spotted the little Sailor watching him, he motioned them to sit beside him. He asked if they wanted to learn how to work on chainmail. The sailor nodded. There was a soft chuckle that came from the Veteran. Rancher paid no attention be then gently started teaching the young one the trick. then hand his chainmail over to them. The nervously looked up at the rancher, who placed a hand on their shoulder. The sailor then fidgeted be felt unsuccessful, so the rancher shifted his sitting spot and placed his hand over the sailors and helped them till they finally were able to do it on their own. in which the rancher praised them. The room filled with warm laughter when the sailor enthusiastically whooped that he did it. The fact they were out of the rain, warm shelter, and food on the way improved everyone's moral.
  Once food was ready, they each got a bowl with some honey wheat bread. "MMM. I am so going to food coma after this." Moaned the Veteran. "Oh please do. Think we had enough salt for the day." the Captain joked, with a mouth semi full of soup and bread. "Zing. One point for Captain. what you going to do about it Vet?" laughed Rancher. with a dead pan look at Captain and replied. "Throw salt at them."
"Oi, no thro-" The Old leader was about to say.
 The Veteran placed his bowl of food down and leaped across to tackle the Captain, who had to quickly put his own food down before he was toppled over. "OOF." Everyone in the room chuckled. "Ah now I get it." said Sky, softly chuckling. "wait- were you like the old man and thought he was going to literally toss salt?" questioned Traveler. "well you never know in this group. Sometimes it takes a bit to realize things- like the Old man's horrible dad joke." chuckled the Smith. The room erupted in laughter. "I think my jokes are rather dadtastic." the old leader said with a gently laugh. "okay, say that when you're around your wife next time." The Vet teases as he was getting off the caption and returning to his own food. There was another roar of laughter from the group. Once after several helpings of soup and all of them had finished their food, a few helped with clean up.
 Bed rolls were laid out ready for sleep. The old leader took to reading a few letter his wife sent. The more younger members took to watch as Captain was once again losing to Rancher in a game of poker. "I for the life of me have no idea how you do it." captain said smiling back at the Rancher. There was a smirk on the rancher's face as he shuffled the deck. "He just that good. You maybe a strategist in this group, but he is the one to read through you bullshit talk and look." Sky chuckled. "Oh is that so, country? predicting my moves are you?" the Captain smirked with a flashy smile. The Rancher didn't reply but handed out the cards again. Then he just smirked once more up at the Captain. The played at least one last round. Which resulted in the Captain fling his cards at Rancher and everyone chuckling.
 Wild made some warm honey and cinnamon milk to help the younger ones to fall asleep easily. Which they drank and fell in to warm milk drunk sleep stage. Everyone else crawled into their bed roll and laid down to sleep. a few snuggled up with certain members. The rancher was last one up. He tossed in two more logs to keep the fire going a bit more before heading to his bed roll. He then caught the eye of the Older leader, who quietly motioned him over. He quietly made his way over. The old leader shifted and motioned for him to sleep beside him. Rancher joined him and curled up in their arms. Soon falling asleep in their arms. "I am so proud of you." whispered the old leader as looked over his blood. Then softly fell asleep himself. The only sound left, was the sound of the heavy rain falling, soft breathing of nine sleeping heroes and the crackling of the fire. Safe and Sound, snug and warm, and forgotten memory how the day first was. *****  When they woke, the warm sun streamed through the window. The fire was out, but the ambers still smoldering, and could be seen dancing in the light. The resident birds chirped. Only a few still not woke. Not shockingly sky being one, but the Old leader and Rancher. Who were known to be early birds in the group. by habit. The Captain suggested to let them sleep in a little more, while getting sky to wake, but grudgingly not ready to get up. Wild set to work making some breakfast. Veteran and Wind went about feeding Epona and giving her some attention. The Traveler Stretched and lout a yawn. "A Dawn of a new day. New adventure awaits us." -Fin.
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vexedtonightmares · 5 years ago
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Hi. I hope you have an amazing day/night. I had an idea for a fic. That Elliott saves lucas from a monster. Elliott is a demigod and tells lucas he is too and has to go to camp halfblood (percy Jackson au)
ok i’m gonna start by saying that i’m literally so sorry for taking MONTHS to answer this, but i loved this prompt so much i wanted to give it the attention it deserved 🥺now, that attention went from a small 1k fic to a roughly 20k three part fic because i have No Chill and accidentally came up with an entire plot, but at least i’m sharing it now!! i hope you enjoy!!
you can read part 1 here on ao3 or down below the cut 💖 
love and other divine interventions 
part i. identity (8.4k)
Look, Lucas didn’t want to be a half-blood. What the hell was that even supposed to mean? It sounded like a disease, the more he thought about it. Not that he thought about it often, he really tried not to, because most of all he didn’t care what it meant. Hadn’t killed him yet, had it?
Lucas had first been told that he was a half-blood by his mother when he was twelve. She said she was worried for his safety, and that she might have to send him to summer camp in America. He didn’t know what any of that meant, but he also knew that his mother wasn’t well sometimes, so he never thought too much about what she’d said and whether or not it meant more than he took it as.
A few years later, his mother had been put into an institution to help with her mental health, and Lucas had been sent from Paris to the states to live with an aunt and uncle he hardly knew. That was the second time someone called him a half-blood. He’d been minding his own business, walking home from school, and some kid who looked both older and younger than he was at the time had gasped, saying that Lucas was a half-blood and had to come with him if he wanted to be safe. 
Lucas had learned about stranger danger, though, so instead he ran away and told his aunt and uncle what happened. Without any room for argument, his aunt and uncle packed up and moved halfway across the country. It was a bit of an excessive response, but Lucas was fourteen, he didn’t really have any say in the matter. 
Something similar had happened again when he was sixteen, then seventeen, and each time his aunt and uncle packed up and moved at even the slightest hint of trouble. He knew that they were just worried about him, they’d lost their daughter, his cousin, back when she was about twelve years old, and they never found out what happened to her. Or so they told Lucas, when he asked. 
He asked them what a half-blood was once, and they’d both told him to never say that word again. So, he hadn’t. He did write a letter to his mother, though, asking if she could explain what she’d meant. Everyone just thought she was crazy, but Lucas had never thought so. If she’d thought it was important for Lucas to know, it must have been. 
When Lucas was eighteen, he went to university in New York. His aunt and uncle hadn’t wanted him to, but they wouldn’t let him go back to Paris, so this was the option they’d reluctantly agreed to.
Strange things had always seemed to follow him wherever he went, but those occurrences happened far more often once he was in New York. He chalked it up to the weirdness of the city itself. Like this: the man on the street who’d told him he smelled like death— which was more rude than strange, actually— or the time that he could have sworn some sort of winged demon had been following him as he walked to class.
Generally, he chalked his experiences up to a lack of sleep, because the life of a college student was quite the busy one. Even if it hadn’t been, he probably wouldn’t have slept anyways. All his life he’d been plagued by dreams so haunting and wild that he’d felt that they were real, regardless of the fact that he knew that couldn’t have been the case.
It was after a night tossing and turning in bed, visions of a pale skinned man on a throne of bones trying desperately to tell him something, that Lucas decided he needed to get some fresh air.  
Lucas loved the city, he really did. Of all the places he’d lived in his life, New York was a close second to Paris. He didn’t let himself think of Paris too often, though, lest he be swept up in thoughts of his mother and how much he missed her. It was hard to keep in contact with all the moving, but he called the home that she was in every now and again to make sure she was alright. She never responded to the questions he’d written to her, but he’d more or less put all of that out of his mind. 
It became clear to Lucas while he was walking through the city that someone was following him. Every time he looked back, he could have sworn he saw someone dart out of sight. So, he picked up his pace. If it came down to it, he’d throw some punches, sure, but he wasn’t the best fighter there ever was. 
He kept walking, no direction in mind, and started to think that maybe he’d been overreacting, or maybe the sleep deprivation had gotten him at last. He walked so long that he made it somewhere there weren’t many people around, and even though he turned over his shoulder once more, whoever was following him seemed to have gotten bored and left him be. Finally, he thought, and paused to check his phone, blinking in surprise when he realized he’d been walking for nearly two hours. He had a tendency to get lost in his own head like that.
Lucas took a deep breath, started to turn around to walk back where he’d come from, and saw a light flash at the corner of his eye, something a bright and beautiful shade of bronze. Before he had time to react, he was pinned up against the side of an alleyway with a knife to his throat and a hand over his mouth.
By the time Lucas was able to assess the situation and look at his assailant’s face, he groaned internally to himself. Oh, fuck, he’s hot. 
The assailant in question didn’t look to be all that much older than Lucas himself, his skin was pale and golden, dotted with moles like constellations. He was wearing a bright orange shirt, which Lucas didn’t know how he hadn’t seen before, and had a leather necklace with a bunch of clay beads on it, each with a different design. Six if, Lucas was counting properly. 
The last thing Lucas looked at were his attacker’s eyes. A clear, bluish grayish color so intense, it made Lucas a little weak in the knees. Get a hold of yourself Lallemant, this guy is literally trying to kill you. 
Lucas opened his mouth under the guy’s hold and in return the guy pressed his hand in even tighter. His luminescent eyes raked Lucas’ face up and down a moment until his attention was caught by something else, off to Lucas’ left. 
“Stay here,” the boy said, loosening his grip on Lucas’ mouth, “And stay quiet, if you want to survive.”
Now, Lucas may not have been trained in combat, but he did know a few moves, one of which he employed the second it looked like this guy’s guard was down.
“OW! What the fuck?” the guy said in a strained voice as he fell to his knees. “Did you just knee me in the balls?”
Lucas didn’t spare the breath on answering, he just ran to the opposite end of the alley as fast as he could. He was almost away when he heard another voice join the fray. “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” said a girl’s voice, “I think you should go back to where Eliott told you to stay.”
Suddenly, Lucas felt his legs moving of their own accord. He agreed with this girl, he should listen to everything she said. 
The boy— Eliott— lifted his head to glare at the girl. “Lola, stop that.”
In his haze, Lucas could barely hear her mumble something about never being allowed to have any fun before he suddenly felt like he’d been dunked in a bucket of ice cold water. He looked around, wondering how he’d gotten back to where he’d run from. 
“What did you— wha—” he stammered, trying to regain sense of himself, when Eliott sighed and stood up, grimacing a bit. 
“I’ll explain everything,” Eliott promised, “We’re here to help you, not hurt you, you just have to please, for the love of the gods, stay where you are and shut up.”
For the love of the gods? Were these people in some sort of cult?
Lucas was nothing if not stubborn. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and frowned. “What makes you think I’ll do what you say?”
Eliott threw an exasperated glance at Lola, who simply raised her eyebrows back as if to say, should have listened to me. Eliott sighed and came back to stand in front of Lucas, holding the knife he’d very recently pressed against Lucas' neck out to Lucas to grab. “Does this make you feel better?”
“I could stab you,” Lucas said, taking it.
Eliott flashed a quick grin, holding out a hand as Lola tossed him a bow and arrows. “You won’t.”
Lucas narrowed his eyes. “Oh yeah? And what makes you say th— AHHH!”
Lucas liked horror movies, he prided himself on being hard to scare. He’d laughed nearly the entire time he’d seen the most recent It movie, and he’d chalked up all the strange things that had happened in his life to fever dreams at best, tragically large amounts of bad luck at worst. Maybe he hadn’t been scared because he either knew it wasn’t real, or refused to believe it was real. This, though, this massive beast looking moments away from eating him alive, this was real.
“Gods dammit,” Lola murmured under her breath, pulling a sword from nowhere. Lucas glanced down at the knife in his hands. Eliott and Lola weren’t paying any attention to him anymore, he could make a run for it, but his fear was that this thing in front of him would kill him if he did. 
“Excuse me? What the hell is that thing?” Lucas shouted, drawing the beast’s head in his direction. Fuck. Maybe drawing attention to himself by shouting wasn’t the best move.
Neither Lola nor Eliott answered him, assuming fighting stances. Lucas tried to emulate what they were doing, but his knees felt too weak and his head felt too dizzy. He hoped to whoever might listen that this was all just a very convoluted nightmare. He pressed the blade into his hand, just to see if it hurt, wishing that it wouldn’t. It did. 
There was a moment of silence where Lucas could have heard a pin drop, but then the thing made a horrifying, guttural sort of sound, and lunged. Lola charged forward, swinging her sword with the precision of a seasoned professional, but the thing was fast. It evaded her attacks, reaching out to slash her with its long claws. Lucas didn’t think, just knew that even if he didn’t trust these people, they didn’t deserve to die. He threw the knife Eliott had given him with all his might, and let out a startled breath as it embedded itself right between the thing’s eyes. 
Eliott, who’d had an arrow ready to fly, lowered his weapon and stared at Lucas with a dumbfounded expression as the thing crumbled to dust, leaving only the bronze knife in its wake. 
“How did you do that?” Eliott asked, searching Lucas’ face up and down. From his other side, Lola was looking at Lucas apprehensively. Lucas opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Eliott’s expression went from shocked to worried, and that was the last thing Lucas saw before he passed out cold.
***
Lucas shot up in bed in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. Of course it was all a dream; sure it had felt realistic, but why would he be in bed if everything that had just happened in his mind happened in real life? Then again… 
Lucas surveyed his surroundings and groaned, before flopping back onto what he now realized was not his bed. Great, he’d been kidnapped. By a boy with eyes like the center of a storm and a girl younger than he was. 
“Lucas?” 
He turned his head to the voice in the doorway, not knowing what to expect. To his displeasure, it was the kidnapper himself. Eliott, was it? He didn’t look like a kidnapper, in that same offensively bright orange t-shirt and distressed jeans, light streaks in his wild hair from too much time out in the sun. Camp Half-Blood, read his t-shirt, and upon realizing this, Lucas felt like he was going to be sick.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Eliott said as he raced to Lucas’ bed, shoving a glass of an indeterminate liquid into his hands. “Drink this, you’ll feel better.”
Lucas was definitely not going to drink it, obviously. Eliott noticed this, rolled his eyes, and took a small sip from the side of the cup. “There, will you drink it now?”
“Where did you take me, and how do you know who I am?” Lucas asked instead. He could only hope that Eliott was kind of stupid, so he’d be able to outsmart him and escape. 
“I’m not telling you anything until you drink that,” Eliott said stubbornly, sitting on the edge of Lucas’ bed. The more Lucas looked at the room, the more it looked like some sort of infirmary, which made even less sense. Maybe Eliott had some weird doctor-patient kink or something. 
Lucas looked at the drink in his hands, then back up at Eliott, who was smiling bright as the sun. He rolled his eyes and took a sip, figuring that if the drink was safe, he’d do what Eliott said to get more information and get the hell out of there. The moment the liquid hit his tongue, he flinched back in surprise. It tasted just like his favorite meal that his mother made him when he was little. How was that even possible? Forgetting all about Eliott, he gulped down most of the rest of the drink until he started feeling a bit hot and Eliott grabbed the glass from his hands. 
“Woah there, don’t want you burning up on us, not when it’s taken so much work for us to get you here at all,” Eliott said with a smile, which Lucas decided is something a psychopath would do. 
He did feel better though, now that the heat had subsided. A lot better actually, better than he’d felt in a long time. He felt healthy and well rested, which was especially great if he needed to take Eliott out in order to escape. First, though, he needed answers.
“Where am I?”
“Long Island,” Eliott supplied.
Lucas glowered at him. “Where exactly am I? Why did you kidnap me?”
Eliott coughed in surprise, eyebrows shooting up and then furrowing deeply. “Kidnap? Lucas, I didn’t kidnap you!”
“Why were you following me, then? How do you know my name?” 
Eliott sighed and gazed at Lucas for a second that stretched to a minute. “I know your name because I saw it on your student ID. Your wallet was in your pocket. Don’t give me that look, I didn’t steal anything, you can have your two dollars and campus card back when you’re ready to head out into camp, not that you’ll be needing either of those things anytime soon.”
Aha, Lucas had caught him. “Because you kidnapped me.”
“No I did not—” Eliott broke off, shaking his head exasperatedly. “You’re difficult, you know that?”
Lucas shrugged. “So I’ve been told.” 
“You won’t be here a long time because I’ve kidnapped you, you’ll be here a long time because it’s one of the only places in the world safe for people like you. Like us,” Eliott continued, looking like he was gauging each of Lucas’ reactions. “No offense, but I’m truly and honestly surprised that you’re not already dead. Unless you’re secretly ten years old or something.”
“And who, pray tell, are we?” Lucas asked sarcastically, ignoring the latter half of what Eliott had said. The look in Eliott’s eyes went deadly serious.
“Half-bloods.”
“I think that’s, like, a slur of some sort..”
The more jovial light came back into Eliott’s eyes. “I’m sorry, what?”
“My aunt and uncle told me never to say that, because people used to call me that sometimes when I was younger. My mom did too, but when she said it, it didn’t sound like a bad thing…” Lucas trailed off, not even realizing it, consumed in thoughts of his mother, as well as his aunt and uncle, who would think him dead. Or lost, just like their daughter. He only came back to himself when he heard Eliott swear under his breath. “Excuse me?”
Eliott went red. “Sorry, it’s just… we had a bet going, about who your parent was. If your mom is mortal, that means I lose.”
“Are you going to tell me what the hell you’re talking about, or am I going to have to kick you in the balls and make a run for it again?” Lucas asked dejectedly. Eliott laughed like he was joking. 
“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized, “You mean… you truly don’t know, then? What you are? Who you are?”
Lucas stared at him blankly, shrugging. 
Eliott continued, “You’re a half-blood— which isn’t a slur, by the way— which means you’re half human, half something else, something that might not make much sense to you right now, or you might not want to believe, but I promise you that it’s true.”
“Ok.” What else was Lucas going to say? He was back to wondering if Eliott was a part of some weird cult.
“You’re half human, half god. Your father, whoever he is, is one of the gods of Ancient Greece. Or Rome, I suppose, but I have a feeling if you ended up here, you’re more on the Greek side of things,” Eliott concluded hesitantly, like he was waiting for Lucas to laugh in his face. Lucas sort of wanted to, but then again, if this was some weird cult thing, maybe it would be best to play along until he went under the radar and could escape. 
So, instead of laughing or asking a million more questions like he wanted to, Lucas said, “Oh, is that all?” 
Eliott blinked at him. “Is that a— you mean you believe me?”
“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” Lucas asked. Yeah, this was definitely a cult thing. “Who’s my dad, then?”
“If you don’t know, we don’t know,” Eliott said apologetically. There was a look in his eyes that made Lucas doubt, for a moment, that this was all some big cosmic joke the universe was playing on him, that there might have been some truth to what Eliott was saying. But that was ridiculous, he couldn’t let them get to him.
Instead of dwelling on it, Lucas tried to divert the conversation, “Hence the bet.”
The corner of Eliott’s mouth quirked up and he averted his eyes, giving a shrug of acknowledgement. “Hence the bet,” he agreed. 
The two of them stared at each other a beat longer, then Eliott hopped up and held out his hand. “Let’s give you a camp tour then, hm? Hopefully you’ll be claimed by tonight, but Cabin Eleven always welcomes unclaimed campers, even if we haven’t had one in a while.”
“Um, ok,” Lucas said, getting out of bed without taking Eliott’s hand. In all honesty, it was more for his own sake than anything. Cultist or not, Eliott was very, very attractive, and Lucas was very, very gay.
Eliott walked with a little bit of a bounce in his step, like he couldn’t help it, and even though it sort of made Lucas want to roll his eyes, another part of him was endeared. Eliott picked up a bow and quiver full of arrows by the door and strung them over his back. Lucas had no idea what use that would be, but he was wary to find out. 
Outside of the infirmary was nothing like what Lucas expected. Eliott grinned at Lucas’ face over his shoulder and said, “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood.”
It was beautiful, that was the only word for it. There was a four story mansion in front of what looked to be some sort of dining pavilion, and on the opposite side there were massive strawberry fields, an archery range, and was that a rock climbing wall with lava pouring down it? It was hard to process everything he was seeing, and even harder when he looked a bit further and saw what Eliott must have meant by ‘cabins’. Cabin was an understatement, surely. There were many massive buildings, each decorated so wildly Lucas couldn’t even imagine the purpose of them. If this was a cult, at least the leaders seemed to treat the members well, everyone looked like they were having the time of their life, even the people sword fighting to the death.
Lucas looked back at the mansion on what seemed to be some sort of front lawn, and suddenly felt like he was about to faint again. “That man has a horse body.”
Eliott followed his gaze, laughed lightly. “Yeah, that’s Chiron, he’s a centaur.” 
When Lucas didn’t respond, Eliott stopped him, imploring him with his intoxicating eyes. “Wait a second. You didn’t really believe me did you, you little shit?” he laughed, again, like it was funny. “Why would I lie about your father being a Greek god? Mine is too.”
“No,” Lucas said numbly. There had to be some other explanation, maybe he was on drugs. He started to feel a bit feverish and breathless as he took in his surroundings again. A man with the legs of a goat trotted past him and his vision dotted. Great, a panic attack was exactly what he needed right now. He didn’t even realize he’d fallen to his knees until Eliott knelt beside him, looking concerned.
“Hey, Lucas, breathe for me, can you do that?” Eliott asked. Lucas tried to answer, but he couldn’t, tried to breathe, but he couldn’t. Eliott’s face in front of him was a bit blurry now, and Lucas felt numb all over, like he was outside of his body. Then, suddenly, his vision cleared, his breathing regulated, and he felt like himself again.
“What—” he began, looking at Eliott, who looked guilty.
“I’m sorry,” Eliott said, helping Lucas to his feet. “My godly parent? Apollo, the god of music, prophecy, the sun,” he paused, biting his lip. “Medicine.”
“And you’re being one hundred percent serious?” Lucas asked. “You’re not part of a cult trying to brainwash me?”
Eliott nodded. “I swear it on the River Styx.”
Lucas didn’t know what that meant, but thunder boomed in the distance, so it sounded serious. His resolve crumbled, and he had no choice but to believe this crazy story he’d been told. In some ways, it made some of the weird things in his life seem not so weird after all. 
“Ok,” he conceded, “I believe you. For real this time.”
Eliott smiled, but it was shallow, and Lucas thought about what he’d just said about his own father. “So you… you stopped my panic attack, then? With godly superpowers, or whatever?”
Eliott’s face went a bit dark, “I wouldn’t call it that, necessarily. I… I differ from most of my siblings in this way. Usually Apollo’s children are more inclined towards medicine, that much is true, but we don’t necessarily have healing powers of our own.”
“But you do,” Lucas inferred, and Eliott nodded grimly.
“It helps out a lot in battle, or with physical ailments, but I—” he faltered, and looked out at the water. “I hate using it this way, for mental ailments. Treating it like it's something that needs to be fixed— which I can’t do by the way. I can get rid of your panic attack, but not your anxiety, if that makes sense. The same way I could heal a broken leg, but not make sure that leg is never broken again. It seems like a cruel joke, sometimes, considering…” he trailed off, turning red, like he’d said something he shouldn’t have.
Lucas waited for him to continue, but when he did, he didn’t pick up his last train of thought. “Point is, we all have our things, from our parents, no matter how big or small they might be. Maybe finding out what yours is will lead us to find out who your dad is.”
“Maybe my dad’s also Apollo,” Lucas wondered aloud, and Eliott let out an oddly strangled noise.
“Let’s hope not,” he said, and before Lucas could ask why, he took off across the green towards the cabins. “Come on, let’s get you acquainted with some of the campers.”
And Lucas, well, he had no choice but to follow. 
Every camper they passed seemed to be a little bit enamoured with Eliott, smiling, waving, and greeting him with blushes and laughter. Once Lucas caught up to Eliott, he asked, “Why are they doing that? Aren’t we all technically related, or whatever?”
Eliott furrowed his brows. “Doing what?” he asked, just as a camper on the volleyball court blew him a kiss. Lucas raised his eyebrows and watched as Eliott’s face turned bright red.
“Oh that’s not— we’re not— The godly side of the family doesn’t count,” he explained, “There’s no DNA there, so you’re not really related in any real way to anyone, aside from your siblings. Like, a child of Poseidon and a child of Athena could date with no problem, but two children of Athena? That’s weird.” 
“Oh,” Lucas said, taking it all in. It seemed he had quite a bit to learn. “Who are you dating, then?” he asked, wishing he hadn’t the minute he said it. 
To his surprise, Eliott just looked over at him with one eyebrow raised and a small smirk. “No one,” he said, coming to a stop in front of what looked like a Barbie house. “Yet.”
Lucas opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by a girl with blonde hair and big green eyes bounding down the stairs in their direction. Instead of running to Eliott, like he expected, she ran right towards Lucas, smiling at him widely. 
“You must be Lucas!” she said excitedly.
“Uh…” Lucas said intelligently.
“This is Daphné,” Eliott said, “Daughter of Aphrodite.”
Aphrodite. Right. Which one was she again? The one naked in a seashell? Thankfully, Daphné filled in the blanks. “Goddess of love, beauty, all that good stuff. Someone had a lot of money betting that you were one of us,” she confided in him.
Lucas tried to look at Eliott for help in this interaction, but he was looking away pointedly. “My mom is normal,” he said instead, “Mortal.” 
Daphné bit her lip, like she was holding back a grin. “That’s what my sister Lola guessed, too.”
Why did that name sound familiar? “Lola…?”
“Me.” Another voice joined them. It was the girl he’d seen with Eliott, who he’d saved from being eaten by that monster. She looked at him with a bored expression.
“You’re welcome,” Lucas said, watching as her eyes narrowed, “You know, for saving your life.”
She grimaced at him, hand on the sword at her side. She started to say something, but Daphné glared at her, and she rolled her eyes, going back inside where she’d come from. 
“Your sister seems nice,” Lucas observed.
Daphné waved a hand airily. “She’ll come around. You didn’t have to be a dick, either.”
“Sorry,” he said, though he wasn’t, and Daphné looked like she knew it.
Eliott jumped in, likely to diffuse some tension, “Daphné here is a master of disguise. Her skill with beauty work can really transform anyone into anything, though more in an illusion way, not a shapeshifting way. Also, her love advice rarely goes amiss.”
That all sounded fine, but not really as cool as having actual superpowers, like Eliott, Lucas thought. As if sensing what he was thinking, Eliott continued, “Some children of Aphrodite have the power of charmspeak, too. They can make anyone do anything, just by telling them to.”
Lucas thought of the weird disconnected feeling that had come over him when Lola had made him stop running away. “Lola can charmspeak?” he asked, already knowing the answer as Eliott and Daphné nodded. “Well that’s just great.”
“It is,” Daphné said defensively, “It’s saved a lot of lives.”
“Anyway,” Eliott cut in again, smiled a bit tense around the edges, “I brought you to Daph because she knows everything and everyone. She can give you the rundown on some campers and their godly parents, if you want.”
Lucas didn’t see a problem with that, especially because he was severely lacking in mythological knowledge. Before he could do so much as nod, Daphné launched into a wild spiel, pointing to people as she did.
“Well, let’s see… over there is Alexia, daughter of Iris, goddess of the rainbow, ugh she’s with Arthur again— son of Hermes, you’ll meet him soon enough if you remain unclaimed— I told her not to go down that road again, but she never learns that my love advice is to be listened to, not ignored. There’s Yann, son of Hephaestus, god of blacksmiths and fire, he’s chill, you’ll like him, and he’s with Basile, as per usual, son of Ares, god of war— which everyone is still confused by, Baz doesn’t have a warlike bone in his body— we used to date, actually, a while back, but I suppose you don’t care about that. Emma and Imane, daughters of Dionysus, god of wine, and Nike, goddess of victory, respectively. Hmm… who else… Sofiane, Imane’s boyfriend and Eliott’s brother, another son of Apollo, Idriss, another son of Nike— he and Imane actually have the same father as well, which is rare but not unheard of. Oh! There’s Maya, Lola’s girlfriend, daughter of Demeter, goddess of agriculture…”
“You seem very well informed of people’s love lives,” Lucas observed, though he supposed that made sense, with who her mom was. 
Daphné glowed in response. “I mean, it’s my job as the head counselor for the Aphrodite cabin. I have a feeling love is closer than you think, by the way, for yourself.”
Lucas blinked. “Excuse me?”
Daphné shrugged, sparing a glance at Eliott, then back at Lucas. “Just a hunch. Speaking of love, I wonder where Manon is… I think she’d like you. She’s a daughter of Zeus. Maybe she’s in her cabin…”
Manon. A name Lucas hadn’t heard in years. It could be a coincidence, of course, but at the same time… “Manon Demissy?” he asked. Daphné frowned at him. 
“How do you know that?”
Lucas couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “She’s my cousin. She went missing when we were twelve…” he trailed off. Had she been here the whole time? Why didn’t his aunt and uncle know that? Did they have the same godly parent?
Daphné and Eliott exchanged a glance, before Daphné took a hold of his arm and dragged him after her, Eliott stumbling along behind them trying to keep up, towards the towering cabin at the end of the path, which looked more like a mausoleum than a cabin.
“Manon!” Daphné yelled once they were outside the door. “You’d better be in there, and you’d better open up, because your cousin—”
She was cut off by the door opening, and Lucas stared into a face he only had the barest memories of. She was a lot older now, sure, but still, Lucas knew exactly who she was. Her face blanched considerably when she saw Lucas.
“Lulu?” she asked, stepping all the way outside. 
Lucas shifted uncomfortably at the nickname. “Uh, no one really calls me that anymo—”
Manon pulled him into a tight hug, and Lucas melted into it. His missing cousin, apparently, was just like him. When she pulled back she searched his face. “But how are you— Are you a half-blood?”
Lucas shrugged. “I guess so.”
“Who’s your father, then?” she asked, looking to Daphné and Eliott both.
“We don’t know,” Eliott said, “He’s unclaimed.”
“At eighteen?” Manon seemed confused by his age more than anything, even though they were only about a month apart in age. 
Eliott and Daphné seemed to be thinking the same thing. “How did you survive this long? Most demigods don’t make it on their own past twelve out there, and the gods are supposed to claim us all by the time we’re thirteen,” Eliott said.
“He could be the son of a minor god,” Daphné offered, “Alexia was out there until she was fifteen.”
They were all looking at him expectantly, so Lucas launched into the story of his childhood, to when he’d been sent to live with Manon’s parents, how they’d moved around any time anything strange happened, and how everything had only been able to catch up with him now that he was on his own in New York.
Manon shook her head. “It still doesn’t make sense, though.”
“Your parents think you’re dead, by the way,” he said, wondering why that wasn’t bothering her. 
She looked apprehensive for a moment, then said, “Lu, my mother and her husband died when I was twelve. That’s why I came to camp. I don’t have any family out there, other than you.”
“What are you talking about? Who the hell have I been living with for years, then?” Lucas demanded, but Manon looked confused as ever. 
“We need to talk to Jo,” Eliott said, and Daphné nodded. “Her mother is Hecate, the goddess of magic, if anyone can peel back the Mist on this one, it’s her.”
“Why do I have a feeling you’re not talking about actual mist?” Lucas asked as he followed the three of them across the green once again. None of them answered him, which was answer enough.
“Jo!” Eliott yelled as they came across a purple cabin with a strange energy surrounding it. “We need your expertise!”
Hardly a moment later, a girl that seemed to be a bit younger than Lucas was at the door, breathless and smiling widely. She looked at Eliott with what was either severe infatuation or admiration. “Anything for my favorite camper,” she said, looking at all of them in turn, until her eyes rested on Lucas. “You must be the newbie! You’re a lot older than I thought you’d be, how the hell did you make it out there that long?”
“That’s what we need your help with,” Manon said, explaining the rest of the situation. Jo’s expression hardened as she did so, and she nodded seriously at the end. 
“I’ll see what I can do.” Then, her expression was bright again. “Come inside Lucas! I don’t bite, I promise! Unless you want me to.”
“Jo,” Eliott said, exasperatedly, like he’d had to do this a lot. 
She put her hands up. “Alright, alright. Come on, let’s see if we can figure out your story.”
Lucas tried to protest as she pulled him inside, door shutting behind her, leaving Eliott, Manon, and Daphné on the outside. She looked at him sympathetically. “I know it's overwhelming, but I promise you don’t have to be scared. Your job is easy, you just have to sit there while I work my magic. Literally.” 
He was led to an entirely dark room and shoved unceremoniously into a chair. Jo waved her hand and a bunch of purple orbs filled the room, glowing with light. “Just close your eyes, and think about your family— your mortal family. I’ll do the rest.”
Lucas did as he was told, first thinking about his mother, and Manon, meeting his extended family when he was young. Only… that was odd, his aunt, Manon’s mother, looked quite a bit different than she did now, though maybe that was just because she was younger. There were weird, fuzzy gaps in his brain, from when he’d had to leave Paris and come to live with his aunt and uncle, which seemed strange. There were a lot of weird, fuzzy gaps, actually, the more he thought about it. Jo gasped, and Lucas opened his eyes.
Jo sighed, looking at Lucas like she’d seen something she wished she hadn’t. “It really is a curse, being able to do the things that I do,” she said simply, holding out a hand. “Come on, we have lots to share.”
Eliott, Daphné, and Manon were all bickering when Jo opened the door to let them both out of the cabin. They looked up at Jo expectantly. Well, actually, Manon and Daphné did, Eliott looked at Lucas, searching his face with his eyes, almost like he was asking if Lucas was ok. Lucas nodded, giving him a hint of a smile, which Eliott returned with one of his own. 
“I’m not sure y’all will like what I have to say,” Jo warned them all, then turned to Manon. “Can we go to your cabin? I don’t want to talk about it with a bunch of people around.”
Manon frowned, but they all followed her back to the massive cabin at the end of the row once again. While they walked, Lucas couldn’t stop thinking of what all this secrecy and worry might lead to. Bad enough he’d just found out that the people he’d been living with weren’t actually related to him, did he really need to learn that he was the son of the god of, like, toilets, or something? 
When they walked in Lucas noticed that the cabin was more or less set up like a museum, not a livable space. There was a massive statue of a god that Lucas assumed was Zeus, because he was carrying a lightning bolt (hey, he didn’t know much, but he knew that much), but it was a bit unnerving, because it felt like his eyes were following them as they walked across the room. 
“Where are your siblings?” Lucas asked, looking around. All of the other cabins seemed to have a great number of campers living in them. 
“I don’t have any,” Manon said, opening a compartment in the wall just outside statue Zeus’ eyeline. Daphné followed like she’d been there a million times, and Eliott and Jo didn’t seem to have any hesitation, so Lucas went after them, closing the compartment behind him.
“Zeus is one of the Big Three, which includes Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades,” Manon continued as they followed her, “And a long time ago, there was this big pact between the Big Three to never sire any more demigods, because of some prophecy nonsense, or something. I don’t know, it was before our time. There was this big war, and then they decided to do away with that rule, but the children of the Big Three are more powerful than most demigods. Which makes them more dangerous, more of a liability. There were a lot of us, for a time, but then the gods decided to get rid of us in case we’d cause too much trouble. As if it was our fault for existing. Each of the Big Three was supposed to choose one child to live, and I happened to be the luckiest of the bunch, because I was just a baby. I think I technically have a sister, but she’s a Hunter of Artemis, so she was exempt from this new rule. Poseidon chose this guy who’s an adult now, living in New Rome, because he pretty much saved them from destruction a number of times and he also hadn’t had anymore demigod children after him. Hades refused to choose, and the gods banished him to Tartarus. He only had two kids, both of whom pretty much saved the gods asses a million times over, and he didn’t think they deserved to be punished for existing, rightfully so.”
They were now in a chamber that Lucas definitely thought hadn’t existed previously. It was decorated in a way that seemed somewhat recent and it looked like more of a secret hideout than a bedroom. Everyone took a seat on various furniture, Daphné and Manon’s hands tangling together as they sat beside one another on the bed. Lucas was still trying his best to take in all the information, but he got lost at Tartarus. “So… Zeus killed a bunch of his kids, is the moral of the story?”
Daphné scoffed. “It was Hera who did it. She hates all children of Zeus, because she’s the goddess of marriage. Really, she just wanted to punish him, and all those innocent kids got caught in the crossfire. She only roped Poseidon and Hades into it so the other gods would agree. Everyone knew Poseidon only had one demigod child, and no one cared enough about Hades or his kids to intervene in that regard.”
“But if they all hate Hades, why is he one of the Big Three?” Lucas asked. 
“I mean, the whole concept of the Big Three is inherently sexist to begin with, because it only recognizes the male children of Kronos,” Manon said. “But that’s basically why. He’s also much more powerful than anyone gives him credit for, he could wipe us all out if he wanted to. I think Zeus knows that, which is part of why he had him banished.”
“So what’s Tartarus, then?” Lucas asked, catching on, but still hopelessly lost.
It was Eliott who chimed in this time, voice cold and somewhat afraid. “There’s the Underworld, and then there’s Tartarus, which is like the hell of all hells. Worse than the Fields of Punishment tenfold. It’s the home of all the monsters, where they go to regenerate when we kill them, and is a prison or a home for the nastiest immortal beings in the universe. The only thing deeper than Tartarus is Chaos, from which everything was borne. The good, the bad, all of it. Only three demigods have ever been inside Tartarus, and they all barely survived it. Hades is being punished there, because he refused to kill one of his children.”
Lucas looked at each of them with wide eyes. “But that’s awful!”
Manon nodded grimly. “Hades isn’t the nicest of the gods, not by a longshot, but he’s a million times better than my own father, and he definitely doesn’t deserve what’s happening to him right now.”
“Zeus isn’t my dad, is he?” Lucas asked warily. 
Manon smiled sadly. “You’d be dead if he was. Hera killed my mother and my stepfather, you know, as retribution for the fact that I’m alive, even though she agreed to letting one of his children live. Don’t worry about this all too much, though, you’re probably just a child of a minor god and you’ll get some sick powers out of the deal.”
Jo sat up in her beanbag chair. “Actually… that’s what we have to talk about.”
Oh, right. Lucas had almost forgotten about her magic, and what they were trying to find out about his past. Daphné encouraged her, “Well? Spill.”
Jo sighed. “So, I was able to see through the Mist on his memories, and I’m not sure you’ll like what I found. His aunt and uncle, the ones who’ve been hiding him all these years, they’re two of the Kindly Ones.”
“Kindly Ones?” Lucas asked, but he saw everyone else’s faces had paled. 
“I’d wondered why they never came after us anymore… I thought it was because of Hades…” Manon mumbled to herself, but Lucas still didn’t follow.
“The Kindly Ones, better known as the Furies, are monsters that serve Hades. They come after us, sometimes, but they mostly stick by his side and do his bidding,” Eliott explained. “If they’ve been protecting you all these years…”
“You must be a child of Hades,” Manon said, finishing both Eliott’s thought and her own. 
Lucas laughed loudly, sure they were just joking around with him. Hades? No way, he was just some minor demigod, not someone who should, for all intents and purposes, be dead. These people were all crazy after all, he’d been right all along. He forced another laugh and shook his head. “Come on, guys, you can’t be serious.”
But they weren’t looking at him, they were looking just above him.
“Unfortunately, it seems that we are,” Daphné said gravely, and Lucas looked above his head just in time to see a glowing symbol disappearing. 
“What was that?” he asked.
“You’ve just been claimed,” Eliott said, “By the god of the dead. Lucas, you are a son of Hades.”
And wasn’t that just fan-fucking-tastic.
Not only was he half god, he was half of a god who should have had him killed when he was a baby. He supposed that was a point in his father’s favor that he wasn’t dead, but couldn’t he have done more to keep him hidden from this world? He was a god, that should have been in his power. 
“The good news for you is that you have four eyewitnesses,” Manon said, and Lucas could nearly see the wheels spinning in her head. He didn’t know how that helped anything, now there were just four other people who knew a secret that could get him killed the moment he stepped back outside into camp.
Daphné, though, seemed to understand what Manon was saying. “Four eyewitnesses who saw you claimed by any god other than Hades,” she said, and Lucas understood.
“I can’t ask you guys to do that for me,” he argued, “What if something happens to you as a result?” He didn’t even know any of them, really, he couldn’t ask them to risk themselves like this.
“If it’s a choice between seeing you live or seeing you die, I’m going to go with the former, no matter who you are,” Jo said simply, and the other three nodded beside her. Lucas appreciated this level of blind faith in him, even if he didn’t know if he deserved it. Obviously, he didn’t want to die, and it meant a lot that these four people he barely knew cared enough to make sure he didn’t. They could very well do the same with every other demigod, but every other demigod wasn’t there right now, so Lucas let himself feel this unearned love, just a little bit. 
A thought struck him, then, that may put a crimp in their plan. “But how will I pretend to be the child of another god?” 
Jo winked at him. “Leave that to me. My siblings are great and all, but if you really want magic done right, you come to me. I can make it look like one of the other gods has claimed you.”
“But which one?” Manon inquired, tilting her head to one side like she was working through every god in her mind. “It has to be one of the male gods, because his mother is mortal and that’s easy to prove, but it can’t be one of the ones that has obvious, testable, powers.”
“He could be Apollo,” Daphné suggested, “Apollo has a lot of different skills, so Lucas must fit into one of them.”
“No,” Eliott interjected, voice sounding a bit hoarse, like he hadn’t meant to say anything. Everyone’s heads shot in his direction and he blushed, pretending that the floor was very interesting all of a sudden. He mumbled, “Children of Apollo have certain traits that are too easy to prove Lucas doesn’t have.”
Lucas didn’t know whether to take offense to that, and he was a little bit hurt that Eliott didn’t think him worthy enough to be a son of the sun god, but he supposed that’s what he got when he was a child of a death god. 
Manon snapped, taking everyone’s attention off of Eliott, for which he seemed grateful. “What about Hypnos, god of sleep? I’m fairly good friends with Lisa, their head counselor, and the only real requirement for that one is the ability to sleep.”
“I, uh, have insomnia,” Lucas admitted. Of course, he couldn’t even fit in with the sleeping god. Eliott snorted into his hand, and tried to cover it up with a cough, which weirdly made Lucas feel better. 
“Ares?” Manon offered.
Lucas squinted. “The war guy?” 
“What about Dionysus?” Jo chimed in, only to be cut off by Daphné.
“Mr. D literally works at this camp, Jo, absent as he is at the moment. I think he’d know who his children are.”
“Right…”
“What about Hermes?” Eliott suggested. He looked a bit uncomfortable with everyone’s attention on him again, but he continued, “I mean, he’s sort of a jack of all trades, so his kids don’t usually have any particularly defining characteristics, aside from the occasional theft.”
“I’ve stolen things,” Lucas supplied, in a way that he hoped was helpful.
Eliott smiled widely, gesturing to him. “He’s stolen things!”
“That just might work,” Daphné said with a nod, starting to smile. “And Arthur would have our back on this, should the truth come out in any way. I mean, I think we should keep it between the five of us, but we know Arthur’s trustworthy, is all. Plus, no one would question it, Hermes has lots of kids.”
“It would also make sense as to why you’ve gone this long without coming to camp. Hermes is powerful enough that some of his kids have issues in the real world, but a lot of them can make it without any problems,” Manon added.
“Well?” Eliott asked him, smile still just as bright as a second ago. “What do you say, Lucas, son of Hermes?”
Lucas nodded slowly. “I think I could do that. And you guys are sure that— that you can help me with this?” He didn’t want to ask for too much, but if they were willing, it would be nice to not be alone. 
Each of them nodded in turn. “We’re a team now,” Manon promised, daring the others to disagree. They didn’t, which was a relief. 
When Lucas thought about all the ways he’d thought his life would have gone, and this was so far out of anything he’d ever considered that he was still having a hard time processing it all, but it really struck him, in that moment, that it was all real, that this was his life now. 
He looked at Eliott, who looked back at him with curiosity in his eyes, and it felt like a wave of understanding passed between the two of them. Lucas didn’t entirely know what that understanding was, but it comforted him. Maybe, just maybe, this would turn out all right.
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jlalafics · 5 years ago
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i beg of u. on bended knee. please write peeta on bended knee. by which i mean proposing. to katniss ofc
You asked for it...and here you go--
______
The bar—per every Friday night—was hopping. Round tables were filled with customers, old and young, and the noise was deafening. However, that was exactly how the owners liked their customers—jovial, bawdy, and just there for a good time.
Katniss looked around before waving at one particular waitress before reaching her usual table in the middle of the room. As she pulled out a chair and sat down, another woman approached with a group of her girlfriends.
“This is our table,” she stated before looking to her friends who snickered in approval.
Katniss smirked, clasping her hands and placing them on the table. “No, it’s not.”
“I know the owner and he said that it was my table,” she persisted. “So, you can just move—there’s room for you at the bar.”
“I’m pretty sure that he didn’t,” Katniss stated plainly.
Agitated, the girl placed a hand on her hip jutting it out aggressively. “How do you know?”
“Because he’s our Dad and I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t say yes to someone who’s insulting the heir apparent to his business.”
A golden-haired waitress, blue eyes cool and strong stance, appeared before the woman.
“My sister has had this table reserved since she spit up on it as baby—not to mention, I’m pretty sure that she was conceived on top of it.” The waitress nodded her head towards the exit. “Now, beat it before you make the wall of people barred from Everdeen Spirits.”
The women quickly scurried away, and Prim snorted before turning to her sister.
Katniss stood up, hands on her hips. “Do you really have to tell everyone that story?”
“It’s gives the table a little more distinctiveness,” Prim responded easily. “Plus, I’m pretty sure our parents have had sex on at least one of these tables. I mean, I caught them making out behind the bar just last night.”
“Gross.” Katniss pulled her sister into a tight hug. “I’ve missed you!”
“Well, that’s what happens when you move to the city with your boyfriend!” They both sat down. “How is living in sin with Peeta going?”
Katniss frowned, resting back against her seat. “It’s been good—but lately, he’s been…different.”
Prim leaned in curiously. “How so?”
“He’s been working a lot lately,” she explained. “Then, there are mysterious phone calls where he hangs up right when I walk into the room and he’s been skittish.” Katniss turned to his sister. “We’ve known Peeta since we were kids—he has a tell. When he’s lying or doing something obviously stupid, he does this adorable thing where he scratches the back of his head…like he’s trying to come up with a good excuse for whatever he did.”
Prim look unconvinced.
“You’re right,” Prim replied. “We’ve known Peeta long enough to know that when he’s lying or hiding something, he’ll get caught.” She flashed her sister a smile. “The man loves you and you’ve been blissfully shacking up with him for a year now. Trust him.”
“And, you don’t think that he might be cheating on me?”
Prim reached, smacking her in the back of her head.
Katniss scowled. “Ow! What was that for?”
“Because you sound like a dumbass,” her sister retorted. “You love him?”
She sighed, nodding her head. “Yes.”
“Then relax, enjoy Thanksgiving week with our crazy-ass family, and get excited for karaoke!”
“Since when do we have karaoke at the bar?” Katniss asked with a smile.
“Since drunk people love to post videos of themselves or their friends singing ‘Don’t Stop Believin’ and tagging our bar,” Prim said. “I told Dad that it would be great for business and he agreed. Sometimes he even goes up there and sings—you know he has a voice of an angel.”
Katniss could see Darius, one of the head bartenders, setting up the microphone on the small makeshift stage.
“Oh yeah. Practically stole Mom’s heart with that voice.” Katniss smiled softly. “It’s nice to be home.”
Prim leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.
“It’s great to have you home. I’ll have Vick bring your usual.”
With that, her sister stood up and headed back to the bar.
++++++
Once karaoke got started, Katniss put her thoughts on Peeta aside. Prim was right; there wasn’t a bad bone in Peeta’s body, it was why she fell in love with him.
What was once a childhood friendship had turned into love during a middle school dance. After being dumped by her boyfriend, Cato, for a girl who looked like her but had bigger boobs, Peeta had come to her rescue and asked her to dance.
Then, under an overabundance of streamers and the sound of slow jams on the speakers, Peeta Mellark became her boyfriend.
Surprisingly to a lot of people, they had remained together from high school through college—attending separate campuses—up until now. She worked as a paralegal for Haymitch Abernathy, a prominent Manhattan lawyer while Peeta worked as a sous chef for famed chef, Beetee Latier.
They were content with their life together.
At least, she thought they were.
The volume of the crowd heightened when her father crossed the stage. Richard Everdeen, with his salt and pepper hair and kind coal eyes, became everyone’s dad as soon as they entered his bar and it was apparent in the appreciative applause as he took to the microphone.
“Hello darling!” Katniss turned to find her mother pulling out a chair across from her. They embraced before sitting down. “I would have been out sooner, but I was having a hell of a time dealing with these wine distributors.”
“It’s alright,” she told her mother. “You didn’t miss anything but a round of Journey songs and a really good rendition of ‘I Wanna Dance with Somebody.’”
“I really just came to the front for your Dad.” Her mother’s blue eyes went soft at the man on stage. “And you, of course.”
Katniss chuckled. “Thanks Mom.”
“Oh, you know I love my first-born baby!” She gathered Katniss against her. “But I’m always hot for my man!”
“And, you wonder why you two were never popular with the other parents,” she responded.
Her parents were great, but they were a little more…boisterous than the staid parents that often ran the events at the girls’ schools. That never bothered Katniss or Prim though as their parents were as supportive as any parents could be.
The girls were often the top sellers during fundraising events as patrons at the bar would buy anything to support the Everdeen girls. Or whereas a parent might run a cotton candy booth during the annual springtime carnival, the Everdeens were the ones who ran the dunk tank which often featured her father promising a free bottle of wine or soda for anyone who dunked him.
“Who needs popularity?” her mother said. “We have each other.” She looked around. “Where’s Peeta?”
“He should be along,” Katniss said. “Had to work late…but he should be here soon—I hope.”
Peeta had texted his apologies, but he was once again caught up with the restaurant. He spent less time in their apartment the more successful he became.
Her mother gave her shoulder a squeeze. “He’ll be here sooner than you think.”
Katniss nodded, turning her attention to her father.
“Anyway, thank you for coming in for this new thing we’re doing. My girl Prim’s idea—” The crowd whooped and cheered for Prim who did a curtsey from the front of the bar. “It’s a joy to hear all your beautiful voices—”
“SING!” someone called out from the crowd.
Katniss looked around quickly before turning back to her dad.
“I guess we’re getting a request,” her Dad said with a humble smile. “I’m going to dedicate this to my wife. Pearl, darling, this might be a little past our time, but I think you’ll enjoy for many reasons. Also, Katniss, my oldest girl, is back home so I think she’ll enjoy this as well.”
The familiar strains of the song began, and it was like she was 12 again—all legs and arms with no tits, but feeling the beginning of womanhood and the beginning of love.
 “Darlin' I, I can't explain
Where did we lose our way?
Girl, it's drivin' me insane
And I know I just need one more chance
To prove my love to you—”
 There was a scrape of a chair and suddenly Peeta was sitting right next to her.
“Peeta!” She beamed at him. “I can’t believe you’re here!”
Peeta pressed a kiss to her lips. “Sorry I took so long…Beetee is so panicked about making sure that the holiday menu goes as planned.” He turned to Katniss’ mother. “Hey Mrs. Everdeen.”
“Hey sweetheart.” She stood up. “I’m going to grab a snack for you two—”
“Mom, it’s alright,” Katniss assured her.
“No, no…” Her mother was already heading away. “Don’t worry, I’ll be right back!”
Katniss turned to Peeta, who took her hand. “I guess she’s giving us alone time.” She smiled at him. “I really am glad you’re here. Truthfully, I’ve been a little worried about us.”
Peeta frowned. “Why?”
“You’ve been so busy…and sometimes I feel like you’re keeping something from me,” she replied.
“I’m sorry.” Peeta gazed at her, earnestness in those blue eyes of his. “I don’t know why you put up with me sometimes.”
“Because I love you, dummy.” His mouth widened at her words and she slid her hand to his cheek. “Always.”
Peeta covered the hand on his cheek with his own. “Always.” He looked to Katniss’ father and nodded a hello. “Do you remember this song?”
“Of course,” she replied. “It was the first song we danced to—when I got dumped for being Miss No-Boobs.”
“Trust me, the boobs came and more than made up for the delay,” Peeta told her with grin. He stood up. “Dance with me.”
She looked around the crowded bar as everyone listened to her father singing the chorus. Some people were even singing along. “Here?”
“Yes. I want to dance with my girl,” Peeta insisted as he stood up, pulling her along. He wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her close. “I remember being so nervous when I asked you.”
“You were my hero,” she replied as they began to sway. “Imagine I was thinking that I was so heartbroken over Cato when you were in front of me all that time.”
Peeta met her eyes, suddenly nervous.
“I’m really sorry if I’ve been neglecting you. It’s just that I realized something; I don’t want you to be my girlfriend.”
Her heart suddenly ceased to beat, and she pushed away from him, her eyes filling.
“Then you don’t have to be.”
Katniss turned but Peeta still held her hand. “Katniss—”
“Let go!” She was full on sobbing in front of everyone. “I don’t need to hear anymore.”
Peeta obliged her and let go.
Katniss pushed past the rush of people, wiping her eyes. She couldn’t believe that he was dumping her in her family’s bar, on Thanksgiving week—
“I'm gonna swallow my pride
Say I'm sorry
Stop pointing fingers the blame is on me—”
 Why the hell was Peeta singing?
She turned as the crowd parted and Peeta, mic in hand, walked towards her.
 “I want a new life
And I want it with you
If you feel the same
Don't ever let it go…”
 “What the fuck are you doing—”
Peeta stopped in front of her, falling to his knees, as he continued to belt out the bridge of the Boyz II Men ballad.
 “You gotta believe in the spirit of love
It'll heal all things
It won't hurt anymore
No I don't believe our love's terminal
I'm down on my knees begging you please…”
 “You really should get off the floor,” Katniss told him. “It’s disgusting.”
“Not until you hear me out,” Peeta told her.
Her dad was suddenly by their side and Peeta handed the mic to him. The music stopped and the whole bar turned silent.
“I don’t want you to be my girlfriend, Katniss, because you are so much more than that. You’re my best friend, my biggest supporter, my guidepost, and advisor…because I do some dumb shit sometimes—”
She scoffed. “That’s for sure.”
“And, just like that, you keep it real. You’re also my soulmate,” he continued. Reaching into his pocket, Peeta present her with a velvet box. “I’ve already mucked this up, but hopefully this will help you understand.”
Her hands shaking, Katniss took the box and opened it. “It’s a ring.”
Peeta chuckled.
“That it is. A pearl in the middle because you love them so much—and of course, it’s your mother’s name,” Peeta explained. “The two diamonds to the left and the right are for your father and Prim. If you look at the outside of the band, there’s a small engraving of the signet that I found when I was doing research about the Mellark family during our senior year and if you look inside—”
Katniss pulled the ring out and looked inside.
“Always,” she read out thickly.
“I don’t want you as my girlfriend. I want you as my wife,” Peeta told her. “So, I’m on bended knee—on this beer-stained floor—asking you if you will please…please…be my wife.”
From out of nowhere, her mother pushed her forward. “For God’s sake, Katniss, say yes to the boy!”
“Yeah,” Prim said from the bar. “That floor is so gross and I’m pretty sure he’s wearing Armani.”
“Will all Everdeens please shut up—” Katniss called out. She joined Peeta, going to her knees, and looking into his eyes. “—so I can say yes to the man who’s loved me since before my boobs came in?”
Peeta blinked back in shock. “You’re saying yes?”
“I’m saying hell yes.”
Katniss watched as Peeta slid the ring on her finger with trembling hands.
Standing up together, her fiancé pulled her close to cover her mouth in a deep kiss.
“She said yes!” Her father bellowed to the crowd. “Free beer for everyone!”
The bar erupted in cheers as Prim, wiping her eyes, dashed behind the bar to help the bartenders serve.
Richard held his hand out to his wife. “I guess we’re having a wedding.”
Pearl wrapped an arm her husband’s waist.
“Our daughter must really love Peeta,” she said, watching the newly engaged couple, lost in each other’s embrace. “Because with a voice like that—”
“Well, let’s just hope that the children don’t inherit his voice.”
FIN.
Song: “On Bended Knee” -Boyz II Men
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miraculouslbcnreactions · 7 months ago
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You: *writes two small essays clearly, cleanly, and thoroughly going through issues you have with the writing in Miraculous, and how they affect what the show is actually saying vs what the writers are going for vs what the audience is taking away from the show, without treating the characters as autonomous people who actually exist a single time*
Someone who pisses on the poor: 'oh so you think this abused child, who was magically created from a feather, deserves to be maliciously lied to by his lifelong romantic partner and fellow 14 year old? After everything he's already been through?'
Media literacy classes should be a requirement everywhere
Thank you for your kind comments about that post. Comments like yours have been very validating after what was initially a really disheartening series of events.
I was quite pleased with what I wrote and thought that I had done a good job focusing on the writing and emphasizing that I was talking about the big picture of the narrative, not chastising or praising specific characters for what the writers had them do. But after I had multiple people go off on rants defending Alya and Adrien, I started seriously questioning my own sanity and communication skills. I even looked up the definition of betrayal to make sure that I wasn't somehow misusing it since that word really seemed to upset people. In case anyone was wondering:
Betrayal is the breaking or violation of a presumptive contract, trust, or confidence that produces moral and psychological conflict
After verifying that I hadn't been using "betrayal" wrong for well over a decade, I got a little annoyed and did my angry rant in the hope that it would save me from further backlash.
While it has been super validating to see that my two initial essays did in fact make sense to a good number of people, that last post did go a little viral, which I didn't see coming, so I want to take a moment to make it clear that I DO NOT want anyone go after the people who did the rants that spawned my rant. Nothing they did or said was worthy of any sort of pile on. They were just expressing opinions and that's fine. I even get it to some extent because a lot of people have unfairly salted on Alya, acting as if she's the problem and not the writing. And that can be really upsetting when you like her because she doesn't deserve those pile ons any more than Marinette does. They are both victims of bad writing!
I get the desire to treat fictional characters like real people, I really do, but Miraculous is frankly not a good enough show for you to do that. The hand of the author is far too blatant, making characters do whatever the writers want instead of what makes sense for what has been established. One of my favorite quick examples is that the writers gave us a full episode where Gabriel "proved" that Adrien wasn't Chat Noir only to have him figure out Adrien's secret identity because he heard his son use the words My Lady as if that's a super unique pet name that would make Adrien's secret undeniable.
It's all nonsense, which is why I focus on the writing issues, treating the characters like the tools they very clearly are. I simply can't do the kind of character analysis you can do in well written shows where the characters feel real and their actions make sense in the established narrative.
I'll close with this statement to explain how I try to run this blog: the characters in the show are fictional, the people you're talking to on here are not. In the grand scheme of things, nothing about Miraculous is bad enough to be worth fighting over. That's why I enjoy talking about it. With all the truly important fights going on in the world, it's nice to come on here and relax by talking about writing - a topic I adore - without having to care if people agree. It's also why I have this as a side blog. I want people to be able to avoid my content if it upsets them as my goal is first and foremost to have fun dunking on a show that is bad in interesting ways. If I only ever got upset replies to my posts, then I would not run this blog because Miraculous is not worth being miserable over. No piece of fiction is.
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itsclydebitches · 5 years ago
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Why do you think the majority of RWBY watchers can't see the issue with the last 2 seasons? tons of people think 6 and 7 are peak RWBY yet on here you've constantly talked about the many issues in them.
Different tastes + different ways of approaching a show. To provide an example on my end, I really enjoyed Steven Universe/Steven Universe: Future. I also watched both sporadically with my brain completely turned off. I knew - because you can never actually avoid analyzing something at least a little when you’ve been trained to do that - that there were various issues in the story, some of which briefly rang as RWBY-like alarm bells in the back of my head, but I deliberately didn’t poke at any of the things I noticed. I just let them pass me by and continued to enjoyed the show. If you’d asked me during this time what I thought of the show you would have gotten a very simplistic, “That show is great!” as a reaction and, if someone had pushed me to say what about the show I enjoyed, I wouldn’t have had the knowledge to support those things in the face of criticism. I couldn’t prove that what I remembered liking was also done well. I simply didn’t (and admittedly still don’t) remember enough of the lore to support those points and never approached it critically to begin with. My ‘evidence’ for “Steven Universe is a great show” boiled down to “It made me happy when I watched it.” Which isn’t an aspect we should ignore, but it also doesn’t (necessarily) speak to the writing quality. 
Now, a few weeks after the show’s finale, I’m interested in seeing what people took issue with in a show that I, for years, simply saw as a Very Good Show. Having consumed a lot of meta recently I can say... they’re right. I don’t agree with everything I’ve watched/read, but the vast majority of criticisms I’ve come across are persuasive. People who watched the show expecting a certain level of consistency and respect towards various issues are right to say that, in many respects, there’s “bad” writing going on. Doesn’t mean you can’t still like it - I do - only that there are issues that other writers should keep in mind and attempt to address in their own work. 
With RWBY, my position as been reversed. I approach the show very critically because at some point (two years ago?) I decided to take up writing recaps as a hobby which necessitated approaching the show with certain expectations and a careful cataloging of information. Not every viewer does that, but they nevertheless still love the show. Which results in people insisting that such-and-such happened a certain way without checking that with a re-watch. Or making very broad claims based on their feelings towards certain characters or events, not evidence. Or, bluntly put, digging in their heels and refusing to admit that something you enjoy can also be something that’s incredibly flawed. I’ve had a lot of practice in maintaining that kind of approach to storytelling - and it does take practice - so for me it’s not at all difficult to switch between, “I love Steven Universe!” (which I do) and “Fucking hell, Steven Universe, what were you thinking when you did that?” For others, criticism (particularly the kind of heavy criticism I engage with here) can feel like a personal attack: you’re not allowed to enjoy this thing because this thing is “bad.” When in fact the only request being made is, “Please consider that this story is very flawed and don’t make up/uphold unsubstantiated claims in order to ‘prove’ otherwise.” A lot of fans, perhaps even most fans, view Volumes Six and Seven as peak writing because they’re approaching it from a place of emotional investment (and let’s be real, the fandom is invested in the girls, so as long as they’re winning/being badass it’s very easy to maintain a satisfied approach to the story. If RWBY started dunking on the girls like it does the adults there would be a very different reaction and, indeed, we see that reaction on my blog a lot. Many fans don’t want to hear anything against their favorite characters, either from the creators or other fans) rather than taking a more objective approach of, “Does this make sense? Has this been retconned? Is this in character? Why did this happen off screen?” That pure, emotional investment is the way I originally approached Steven Universe: Future. Now it’s, “Ah, yeah. You have a good point about that being a problem. Even a huge problem. I can admit it’s an issue while still loving the show. Or if I decide I don’t like having a fave of mine criticized anymore I’ll just... stop reading the meta. Their opinion of the show shouldn’t feel like an attack against my own, especially when I have the very easy ability to not engage with that opinion.”
That’s what I attempt to do here. I write my recaps, I occasionally write side metas, and I answer the many, many asks people toss into my inbox. All of this occurs on my personal blog and I only engage with people who have chosen to engage with me first. All of this is done to teach - let’s deconstruct this show and talk about how something we like could be a whole lot better - as well as because I simply enjoy the act of analyzing shows. If fans are willing to approach a story they love with a critical eye, great. My blog is (partly) here for that. If not, not following me - or even blocking me - exist for just those reasons. No one needs to understand/accept that RWBY is flawed, especially when it’s so easy to watch it in a way that makes accepting that difficult. 
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i don’t even know what to say about gaim. i really don’t. that’s not gonna stop me from making a post about it but like. what. under a cut bc i’m writing a novel over here.
okay my first thought is that i still really enjoyed most of gaim. i don’t think the ending took that away from me mostly because the last five episodes or so made me check out so hard and so fast it literally felt like watching a different show. even then there were still a few good character moments in the end that i’m glad i watched, especially from jonouchi, oren, and takatora who are all big faves. 
the last episode i’m so so so torn on bc i still like the idea of ending it at 46 with a little less certainty but there is something undeniably There about ending with hope. if i had to wager a guess at the theme of gaim, i think that would be it. hope, despite the absolute fucking worst that comes at you (and it was the worst! it was the worst.). and not just hope but this concept of carrying on, of everything continuing and evolving, just maybe not in the way you expected or planned. i do like that.
i 100% get and agree with the madoka comparisons. like gaim started out being something and the last few episodes were just beat for beat madoka. tell another story please mr urobuchi you were almost there.
actually i think the thing that’s sticking in my head the most is micchy which is surprising me. i want to talk about micchy so bad but idk what i even want to say about him. i still feel like he was missing something somewhere and he did some undoubtedly heinous things but i do still feel sympathy for him and i was happy to see him have a chance to live with what he did. i feel like i should unpack that in some way but idek how to start.
i didn’t mind mai being the golden apple necessarily until it started getting into what that entailed. i think that the concept of putting it in someone else is fine on its own, but the execution. no ma’am. what’s especially disappointing is, because of the nature of time travel stuff, this was one beat that was planned from the start. disappointing.
i wish kaito had been something. i really do. i feel like he had such a clear path set up at the beginning and then the writers just did nothing good with it. maybe i’m just biased bc i love him dearly and i was waiting for that one last baby step into full villain decay redemption arc and it never came. they kind of gave it to micchy instead which is. wild. bc micchy did way worse things for way longer than kaito did. kaito was really just a villain for the dancing part at the beginning, then moved into more morally ambiguous, and they had such a good thread with him and mai and his connection to zawame and then they slam dunked it in the trash. like i was really expecting him to end up as an “i want to be strong to reverse what the previously strong have done to this city that i love” kind of character. not fully a selfless protector like kouta, but someone who was willing to do awful things to put zawame right again, and maybe burn himself out in the process. they allllllmost got there, but instead he went full wacko and decided to do a genocide instead, then had his 30th consecutive lost fight and died. seriously kaito gets the shit kicked out of him in almost every fight which is SO funny considering he’s the strength guy. another example of these kind of weird character choices that don’t quite click for me.
also i still stand by kaito/mai WAS cute and WOULD HAVE BEEN cute had they not done. y’know. that with it. like why take the time to build up those interactions if you’re just gonna force the issue to no end in the finale. 
uhhh lemme just run down the list now actually. oren good. jonouchi good. takatora good. no complaints with their character arcs honestly they were fun the whole time. ryoma lived and died exactly as he should have and was a delight the entire time. sid and yoko just got so fucking boring i truly did not care when they died. dj sagara rules. i don’t even think i fully get his deal, i just love whatever the fuck he’s doing. wild man. zack living was one of the only good things that happened in the last few eps. peko is also very cute idk i haven’t talked about them much but they’re cool dudes. the rest of team gaim is also there idk i have no strong feelings about them either way. 
oh also the fact that the very last episode was based around a movie i did Not watch certainly didn’t earn it any points, but again i did like the character moments and i liked the tone of the episode so i’ll forgive it i guess. certainly not the worst thing gaim has done to me.
last thing i think and then i’m gonna go eat dinner which i didn’t do in favor of finishing gaim first: yuuya’s appearance and kouta’s first man appearance have to be linked in some way right. something about the hair especially just really struck me idk it seems like a parallel but i’m not smart enough to string it together coherently.
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mirkwoodshewolf · 6 years ago
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Pool side shenanigans; Brian May x teen reader
*Author’s note*
Okay everyone along with this being a request, I wanted this to be done by today because in honor of our beloved Brian May’s birthday, I have a fic to present to all of you. So to the anon who requested this lovely platonic fic with Brian May, I hope you enjoy it and also BIG shout out to the man himself, Happy Birthday Brian May I hope you had a great one and just know that you are always loved and an inspiration not just as a musician, scientist or animal activist, but also what being a human being is. You are a true star and we don’t deserve you. Happy 72nd Birthday Brian Harold May :)
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Queen Taglist:
@geek-and-proud
@psychosupernatural
@queendeakyy
@waddles03
@plethora-of-things
@coolcxt
@ixchel-9275
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It was 1975 at Ridge farm studios.  It was probably the hottest day of the summer and I could barely take the heat any longer. If you’re wondering who I am, I’ll tell you. The name’s (y/n) (l/n), I’m 16 years old and you could call me Queen’s official ‘roadie/makeup artist/mini-groupie’.  I’ve known the band since I was nine years old since my older brother Derek has been with the band since the beginning.
He’s real close with the band since he’s responsible for helping Deacy with his amp, even having a little cocktail bar installed behind it for his performances. And since my brother is close friends with all four guys, that made me close with them.  But even by being close with them, I always found myself drawn more towards Brian.
I’ve always had a fascination with the guitar and always wanted to play it, and the first time I saw Brian play, I was just in awe of what he could do.  It was like his fingers moved independently from each other and just molded with the guitar.  During one rehearsal I was spying observing him and just fell under the spell of the sounds that his famed Red Special made, I was so entranced that he had caught me watching him.
Now I wasn’t quite as close to the guys just yet at that point in time, so I shyly hid under behind all the crates and amps hoping that he didn’t see me, but he did. He talked to me and of course being that age standing before an upcoming rockstar being born I was a bit intimidated but he talked to me, just like how my brother does.  He even let me touch and hold his Red Special and even gave me a mini-guitar lesson and showed me how he plays, and from that point on the rest is history.
As years went by, my brother taught me the ins and outs of what being a roadie technician is and how the amps work out and every summer I helped him out with Queen’s tours.  Now when it came to this trip for the boys to record their recent album “A Night at the Opera”, my brother had unfortunately came down with a really bad stomach flu so he said that I would have to go on my own.
Which was no problem with him because he knew I would take care of the boys and help them out with whatever they needed me to do.  And of course all 4 band members equally agreed that they wanted me on the trip.  So after awhile of recording, we all now relocated here at Ridge farm studios to just relax and take the time off before heading back to Rockfield.
Now with it being summertime, the summers here in England get pretty hot.  I was in the pool along with Deacy just simply talking as we lounged on those pool beds that float, while Fred and Rog were goofing around trying to dunk each other in the water.
“When’s Bri gonna come out?” I asked.
“He said he’d come out whenever he got done checking his thesis.” Answered Deacy.
“But even a brain like his needs rest.”
“Ohh love face it, when Brian gets too involved with his studies, nothing’s gonna change his mind.” Freddie proclaimed as he had dunked Rog under the water before taking away the inner tube they were both fighting over, that was until he was pulled under the water and Roger now came through the tube as Fred now came back up for air only to see his prize taken away.
“Well good thing he always falls for me. Watch and learn boys.” I got out of the pool and dried myself off as best as I could and headed back towards the house.
Inside I saw Brian in the dining room with the portable fan on its highest setting and all around the table were papers and astrophysics books scattered around. Brian was sweating from the heat and I swore I could see smoke coming out of his ears and see the gears in his head working as he was editing his thesis.  I quietly walked up to him and just wrapped my arms around him and leaned my head up against his.
“Hey (y/n).” he said.
“How’s the thesis going?” I asked.
“Slowly but surely. Just found out there’s some points that I didn’t quite backup enough so I’m having to rewrite certain structures of it.”
“Uh-huh, and what’s your paper about again?”
“Interplanetary stardust. My thesis revolves around the radical velocities in zodiacal dust.” I just nodded along pretending to understand what it was he was talking about.
“Well I can clearly see the gears turning in your head, and I think I even see smoke coming out of your ears.”
“Ha-ha. Now what exactly do you want (y/n)?”
“Come take a break Brian. You’ve been working so hard lately not just with this but I’ve also seen you writing more songs for the album. Take a break Bri and come out and have a nice swim with us, please?”
“I’ll join in later (y/n), I promise okay.”
“But—”
“Bo buts. Now please leave.” I pouted as he went back to his work but I refused to leave.  If there’s anything you need to know about me, it’s that I’m too stubborn for my own good. And I don’t leave until I get what I want.  
I walked back toward him and just leaned up against his back, lying my head against his curls.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Has anyone told you your hair is like a fluffy pillow?” I teased.  I buried my face into it, allowing his curls to tickle my cheek and nose.
“It would seem you’re the first one to tell me that.” He said.
“And I actually get to brag to Derek about one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“That I’m the first person ever to actually see what the top of Brian May’s hair is like. And it’s even floofier on top.” I wrapped my arms further around him and said, “C’mon Bri please. I’ll be your best friend.”
“You already are my best friend.”
“Just please take a break, you’re the one always telling me to take a break when I get stressed out from school. Want my advice, take a lesson from your book and know that if you keep going like this at this rate, you’ll only make yourself sick.” I quoted him using my best Brian impersonation while bopping his nose much like how he always does it with me.
He turned to look at me and I tilted my head at him giving him my best puppy dog pout.
“C’mon Bri.” He just stared at me and then I upped up the antic by saying sadly, “Okay then. I guess I’ll just go back out and be lonely. Maybe die of heatstroke because now I don’t want to swim with anyone but my favorite queen member.” I began to walk away from him when I heard him say.
“Alright love, you win. I’ll be out in a second.” I smirked and walked right out of the house but it wasn’t until I got out of the house that I had a spring in my step.
Works every time.
As I returned to the pool with a confident stride I proclaimed.
“Hello children.”
“So I assume by the walk, you managed to convince him?” Deacy said.
“Hook, line and sinker every time.” I said smugly as I got back on my innertube bed. “Guilt trip works like a charm. I’m so clever I even amaze myself.”
It was a few minutes later and I was the only one still lying on a innertube bed while the boys were going off on the diving board, mainly Rog and Fred were trying to outdo the other one in dives or flips.  As Roger managed to do a backflip I shook my head and muttered.
“Show off.” I rested my head back against the ‘pillow’ portion of my bed when suddenly I felt myself being flipped over.  I let out a shriek as I was now underwater.  I came up for air and I said as I turned towards them.  “Alright Rog! What was that about?”
“What are you talking about (n/n)?”
“Don’t pretend I know that was you who flipped me over!”
“Love I may play some pranks on you but that wasn’t me.” He reasoned with me.
“It’s true darling, the minute you flipped over, he had come up from his back flip, how could he get from there to here so fast?” Freddie questioned.  Okay so if Roger was just coming up from where he dove, Freddie was at the diving board as well as Deacy, wait that means……
Suddenly I felt something grab my waist and pull me underwater once more.  I opened my eyes and I saw the familiar face of Brian.  He took me over towards the innertube bed and I came up for air coughing out while his eyes and nose peeked out of the water staring right at me.
“Not cool Brian! Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to disturb a girl on an innertube bed?” It was then he did something I never thought he do.  My mentor, rock god of the guitar, astrophysicist Brian May actually spat water in my face like a whale breaching the surface.  “Oh you are so dead!”
It then turned into a water fight, splashing each other in the face laughing and roughhousing like children.  This continued on for a few more minutes until finally Brian had me trapped in his arms and he said.
“You surrender?”
“Fine, but not because of you. It’s only cause I’ve tired and I really want this tube off of my head.” Brian then flipped it off of us and he released me and I swam back towards the tube and got back on it.  “What was that all about Bri?”
“Well how else was I supposed to get back at you for interrupting my work?” I sighed and said.
“I’m sorry, I just wanted you to finally have a chance to relax. I know how hard you work and with this heat I figured you’d want to relax. Heat and hardworking brains don’t mix too well together.”
“I know you meant well love. And I thank you for it. Guess I got a taste of my own medicine after all the years I’ve got on you about stressing out over your own classwork.” He ruffled my wet hair and I slide off the tube and swam out towards the diving board to show these old guys what real diving is all about.
For the rest of the day it was hanging by the poolside, cold glasses of tea or water and just talking by the poolside.  By nightfall, while everyone was inside for the night, Brian and I had a scheduled a stargazing party for two.
We were ‘camped’ out just a few yards away from the house past the pool out to a wide greenery passage with a clearing of the sky, just barely underneath where the moon was.
“So you see (y/n) if you’re wanting to know where the brightest star in the sky is, just turn toward the Canis major constellation and there you will find Sirius.”
“Ohh, see I was told Betelgeuse was the brightest star by a friend of mine.”
“No that’s the 9th brightest star.”
“Well some astronomer he’s going to be, luckily for me I’ve got the best one I know.” I praised as I snuggled up closer to him.  He chuckled softly and stroked down my hair and kissed the top of my forehead.
“What is it?” he asked.
“What’s what?”
“I know that face anywhere, you’re thinking about something that’s making you depressed. So c’mon love out with it.” I sighed and said.
“It’s just—” I tried to find the right words.  Lucky for me Brian’s always so patient with me, while Derek would be telling me about now to just let it out and fess up.  “Well all my friends have officially decided on what they’re gonna do after graduation. Astronomy, biologist, teacher, librarian. All those important jobs, as for me I—I’ve got no clue on what I want to do with my life. I don’t even know what to study.”
“What does your heart tell you?” I looked up at him and asked,
“What’s my heart gotta do with choosing a major?”
“It’s what you’re interested in. Whatever passion you have, your heart will help determine what you want to do.”
“I—I don’t know. And it gets worse cause my parents are always hounding me about getting a better education and me away from this job since my brother chose not to go to college and just worked for a living at an autoshop before meeting you guys.”
“Believe me love I’ve been there before. My mum wanted me to be a surgeon and my father wished for me to have a career that would support me. He’s still peeved about me being in a band, thinking it isn’t doing anything for me.”
“Yeah, my dad’s the same way with Derek.”
“But listen love, I know you’ll find something to study. I know you’re a good story writer. Remember those short stories you would read out loud to me when you were first starting off secondary school?” I nodded and said.
“But I don’t know if mum and dad would approve of me being a writer. Most English majors think you’ll end up being a teacher and I suck at explaining shit to people.”
“Hey, first of all language. And second you are smart. You’re probably the most clever girl I will ever meet in my whole life. Now repeat after me. You are smart.”
“You are smart.” I mocked.  He glared down at me and said.
“Alright cheeky have it your way.” Suddenly he began to tickle my sides.
“Wah no!! Noo Brian not…..not that stohahahp!”
“Then say it.”
“Okay! Okay I’m smart! I’m smart!” he finally stopped leaving me breathless. “I am so gonna make Derek regret ever telling you guys that I was ticklish. You guys are sadists when it comes to tickling. Especially you and Deacy.”
“Ohh come off it darling, we only do it because we love you so much.”
“Yeah, too much.”
“Never enough.” He said as he nuzzled his nose against mine. I smiled softly and rubbed my nose against his as well, giving each other Eskimo kisses. “In all seriousness though love, you can be whatever you want to be. It doesn’t matter how long it takes you to figure it out, so long as it makes you happy. And that’s all we ever want from you.”
“Thanks Bri. And I don’t mean just for this but for everything. You’ve taught me so much and—I don’t think I can ever pay you back.”
“There’s no need love. I’m just glad I got the chance to meet you that day, what was it seven years ago?” I nodded and he said, “And it has been my honor to see you grow into a smart, strong young woman. And I know you’re going to do great things love.”
“So will you Bri, I just know Queen’s going to be known by everyone after this album takes off, and I’m just lucky to see the four men behind the masks and see who they really are. And I’m proud to also call them my family.”
“And we’re proud to call you ours.” He brought me close to his chest and kissed the top of my head and the two of us remained outside stargazing throughout the night until the dawn came to greet us.
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agreste-image · 5 years ago
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The Positive And The Negative
MY MUSE IS:   canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless / complicated.
IS YOUR CHARACTER POPULAR IN THE FANDOM?   YES / NO / MAYBE 
IS YOUR CHARACTER CONSIDERED HOT™ IN THE FANDOM?   YES / NO / IDK. 
IS YOUR CHARACTER CONSIDERED STRONG IN THE FANDOM?   YES / NO / IDK.
ARE THEY UNDERRATED?   YES / NO / IDK. - Personally, I believe he is a lot of time because people focus on Ladybug more, but usually people are pretty good about it.
WERE THEY RELEVANT FOR THE MAIN STORY?   YES / NO 
WERE THEY RELEVANT FOR THE MAIN CHARACTER?   YES / NO / THEY’RE A PROTAG
ARE THEY WIDELY KNOWN IN THEIR WORLD?   YES / NO. 
HOW’S THEIR REPUTATION?   GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL -
HOW STRICTLY DO YOU FOLLOW CANON?  Not super strictly. There’s some fandom ideas that I like to use that the show touches on or doesn’t explain, and I feel that the fandom has a few ideas that are better than canon, lol
SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka: try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.   —  Rich? Check. Model? Check. Superhero? Check. But honestly, those three things are just bits of what makes Adrien interesting- he’s a teen fascinated by his superhero partner and, honestly, the world. He’s eager to speak to people from all walks of life and to help them in whatever way he can, if they need it. And if they’re from another dimension? That’s just more to discuss with who he hopes will be a new friend.
Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?).   —   Those first three reasons I listed above? Yeah. That’s totally some reasons to be wary- I mean, come on. Definitely gives off some spoiled bored rich kid vibes. He’s a model that everyone loves, as well, and don’t even get me started on how trusting he is of others, even when he shouldn’t be- especially when he shouldn’t be. If you didn’t watch the show and didn’t have more context than what I’ve written here for his character, you’d roll your eyes and ignore him- another Gary Stu character.
WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO RP YOUR MUSE?   —   Rewatching Miraculous Ladybug made me realize I have been in many situations similar to Adrien, and was curious as to how these similarities would effect interactions in the Tumblr multiverse and would affect his life further in the future. I also just really love Adrien Agreste.
WHAT KEEPS YOUR INSPIRATION GOING?   —   The continued interactions with other blogs, and talking to their muns OOC. 
Some more personal questions for the mun.
Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.
DO YOU THINK YOU GIVE YOUR CHARACTER JUSTICE?   YES / NO / I SINCERELY HOPE I DO
DO YOU FREQUENTLY WRITE HEADCANONS?   YES / NO / SORT OF
DO YOU SOMETIMES WRITE DRABBLES?   YES / NO - I come up with a lot of ideas but don’t generally write them out.
DO YOU THINK A LOT ABOUT YOUR MUSE DURING THE DAY?   YES / NO - Given Adrien’s on Tumblr, I do have to think about it to some degree- but I think about a lot of my muses allllll the time.
ARE YOU CONFIDENT IN YOUR PORTRAYAL?   YES / NO / SORT OF? 
ARE YOU CONFIDENT IN YOUR WRITING?   YES / NO / A BIT.
ARE YOU A SENSITIVE PERSON?   YES / NO / SORT OF
DO YOU ACCEPT CRITICISM WELL ABOUT YOUR PORTRAYAL?   —   I haven’t received any criticism about it, so I don’t know if I would. Based on past times, though, no- I tend to take criticism very hard because of those experiences, even if it’s a very small thing. 
DO YOU LIKE QUESTIONS, WHICH HELP YOU TO EXPLORE YOUR CHARACTER?   — Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes YES YES
IF SOMEONE DISAGREES TO A HEADCANON OF YOURS, DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY? — Yeah, I think it’s interesting most of the time! Usually I can see where they’re coming from.
IF SOMEONE DISAGREES WITH YOUR PORTRAYAL, HOW WOULD YOU TAKE IT?   — Well, to each their own, I guess.
IF SOMEONE REALLY HATES YOUR CHARACTER, HOW DO YOU TAKE IT? — Why are you here if you hate my character??????
ARE YOU OKAY WITH PEOPLE POINTING OUT YOUR GRAMMATICAL ERRORS?   — Listen. I dunk on myself for typos and whatnot all the time. I said ‘me oo’ the other night trying to tell someone I’d enjoyed a gaming session as well. You can point it out to me, or just correct it in the post.
DO YOU THINK YOU ARE EASY GOING AS A MUN? —  I think I’m very easygoing for a Tumblr mun in this day and age, but I could be wrong! 
Tagged by @eris-the-phantom-thief
Tagging : @dilutedaspirations / @theheartmuncher , @nobodyslyre, @embellishedbookworm , @mdcreatrice , @thelightissilenced and anyone that reads this and wants to do it!
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pleatedskirtsteak · 3 years ago
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I am so exhausted with the way people talk about game criticism.
There are a bunch of reasons that game crit is the way it is, and though it's fair to criticize elements of it, it is exhausting to see the writers themselves almost always the target. More below the cut, but...
TL;DR: This was probably written for capitalism reasons, none of which are the writers' faults.
If you want to follow along at home, here is the exputer article in question, which is a news piece discussing the amount of players lost since Elden Ring's launch and some speculation about why the player base has fallen since launch. Almost all of the reasons are exactly as you'd expect.
It's worth noting that no part of that headline or lede is negatively criticizing the game, or even mentioning that this is unexpected. Quite the opposite, as the lede is implying the game has endured longer than lot of a other titles. (Also worth noting the article text says the same.)
So why would this article be written at all? Let's speculate a little together.
Game critics, journalists, and newsies have brain rot. This one feels like it's probably the most bad faith reading of it. Based solely on the text of the headline alone, not even the writer is expecting Elden Ring to somehow persist in popular consciousness forever. If anything, this article's thesis is likely "look how much the player base has shrunk for Elden Ring." rather than "look how bad it is that the player base has shrunk for Elden Ring."
This particular writer really jams to numbers. For some people, these kinds of analytics are interesting. I don't know this writer or their work, but there is a non-zero chance this writer (or their editor) enjoys these kinds of dive-into-the-data explorations, and writes this sort of subject regularly. And, depending on site and audience, may also be an interesting read for the sorts of people who regularly read the site.
This game site may have a minimum required number of news articles written per day, week, month, etc. This one feels pretty plausible, and the writer is looking for something that could be of interest in what might be a slow news week. Every job has busywork.
Elden Ring remains powerful in SEO and algorithm-based metrics. So if you're a professional news writer paid by the click, you're going to pick (or be assigned) a subject likely to draw in readers to optimize revenue.
In short, the most plausible possibilities to me come down to capitalism. Games criticism is an underpaid field absolutely stuffed full of job insecurity and burn-out. Sites shutter or get bought out (and downsized) with shocking regularity. Most long form work that people claim to like will almost never earn its cost back, for the writer or the outlets, and most of the game criticism people claim to want has moving to indie publications, independent video essayists, and Patreon, which are all far more poorly attended and funded than the largest sites often writing Top 10 lists and guides because those are the things actually read by the bulk of the people reading.
And yet somehow games crit folks are the first to get dunked on. I agree with the tags the-most-wonderfulest-thing has highlighted: that the profit-first approach is chipping away at the foundations of art we all want to consume, but I think I disagree with everyone reblogging this because of how little they realize they're hastening the exact same thing in crit spaces.
I promise you the stuff you like most in games criticism is exactly the stuff that capitalism is strangling, and according to popular opinion, this is somehow this is the writers' fault.
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this is an insane way to talk about a predominantly singleplayer/co-op game, to be clear
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