#He acts so bravado about it but in actuality he’s very controlled on how he targets people
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
idk how bad the twt discourse is but i've also seen tubbo chatters assuming that he's going to do something like blowing up cellbit's castle and i'm not convinced they're right about that. it's not impossible especially if he goes crazy, but also i feel like people are misunderstanding tubbo's character choices when they jump straight to assuming that he'll destroy everything. the whole thing with quackity isn't just destruction for the sake of destruction. there is a purpose to it - it's psychological warfare meant to attack quackity's own insecurties. and i think tubbo might be smart enough to realize that breaking cellbit's castle would not be the best way to get revenge.
The twitter discourse was funny because it was one person going wouldn’t that be cool and then like so many other people acting like he real and true did that. The telephone game that is twitter how I hate you. I do doubt tubbo would actually destroy cellbit’s castle, the point of destroying qs house was because quackity has nothing and therefore the only thing to take was whatever he made his mark with. Cellbit on the other hand has many many friends and many builds, Tubbo just wouldn’t go for that because it’s inherently worthless against him. Honestly if he was feeling really cruel about it he’d probably do things to set off cellbits paranoia.
#Asks!#Tubbo choose to destroy quackity’s stuff because as you said it was psychological warfare he did it because quackity is isolated#He acts so bravado about it but in actuality he’s very controlled on how he targets people#Watch us both get proven wrong#They are in different timezones I could see him laying “pranks” while cellbits gone
13 notes
·
View notes
Note
D.Do you have any more stuff about Sunstreaker & Sideswipe?? They are my BOIS and I need to know more about your take on their specific kinks and preferences, I am BEGGING
OKAY SO HERE'S THE THING
I really, really like Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, but I know absolutely shit-all about them. I know RID 2015 Sideswipe really well, and I know G1 Sideswipe and Sunstreaker only tangentially from a few small moments in G1 episodes. I know that Sunstreaker is very self-absorbed and Sideswipe is a major risk taker, probably a bit of an adrenaline junkie too. I've also picked up little bits of info about IDW Sunstreaker, but that's also all tangential.
Considering that, I don't really feel like I know them that well, or have a grasp on their personalities. I could absolutely make my best guesses, but I'd really love to learn more about them and get a feel for how the fandom characterizes them. If you or anyone else has any info or would like to wax poetic about them in my inbox, i would be absolutely DELIGHTED to read it. I'd love to know what you love about them. Once I have a better grasp on what they're like, or at least how the fandom likes to write and present them, I'd be ecstatic to write for these boys.
All that being said I can offer a teeny tiny bit here, based on the few things I do know. I think overall Sideswipe is a lot more open to the idea of having a human partner, while Sunstreaker is resistant nearly every step of the way. Sideswipe also strikes me as a bit of a brat, acting out because he wants his partner to put him in his place. He's a thrill-seeker, and definitely up for things like public sex, bondage, and exhibitionism. He's kinky, but in a very lighthearted, almost mischievous way.
Sunstreaker meanwhile does not like not being the one in control. Typically he's more rough, very dominant and sometimes degrading. He gets off on having power over you. Not to say that he's incapable of being soft, it's just kind of stuck behind several walls of bravado and superiority because he really struggles with actually letting himself be seen as vulnerable in any sense of the word. If you can really work hard and get past that outer shell, see the real Sunstreaker in there, he's almost... Tsundere? For complete lack of a better term.
G1 Sunstreaker is still very self-absorbed, but not as completely abrasive as, say, IDW Sunstreaker. He's a little bit softer around the edges.
#transformers#transformers x reader#x reader#sideswipe#sunstreaker#tf sideswipe#tf sunstreaker#sideswipe x reader#sunstreaker x reader#valveplug#tf headcanons#pink chat#anon
118 notes
·
View notes
Text
Literally just finished Notorious Scarlett and Browne
In that hyper stage where I just have to share my thoughts so excuse the ramble. (Spoilers!)
Sneaky Bartimaeus reference? Very reminiscent of Nat and Kitty's parting. I love how It's easy to find similarities between Storud's stories and characters without it feeling too repetitious.
The revelation about Thomas didn't surprise me- I'd read the summary for the third book but before that I felt it was kinda obvious she was like the reverse of Lockwood. But her middle name being Josephine absolutely did surprise me (unless I missed it being mentioned before?) but omg does the name suit her!! Made me realise we don't know what Jo and Ettie's surname is which I'd like to know!
Lighthearted moments I liked:
But also I was so confident Albert was my favourite character (love all of Stroud's psychologically messed up male protagonists anyway so it wasn't exactly a competition) but then in came Mallory omg - a more fucked up version of Albert that has absolutely no qualms about killing people?? Sign me tf up baby I love him so much! I said Nat has Catholic guilt vibes but oh boy Mallory is the BLUEPRINT for catholic guilt 🤌🏼🤌🏼
Maybe an unpopular opinion? But he definitely deserved better! I want to see him developed more as character and see more of his personality shine through rather than just be a vague threat from Stonemoor. I found his self assurance and egotistical nature really interesting considering years of child abuse - we kind of see it with Nathaniel but it's mostly an act and bravado whereas that does seem to just be what Mallory is like.
I'm loving the found family vibe as well - it was nice to see Jo and Ettie have stayed with Scarlett and Albert and the addition of Sal Qin at the end is really sweet. And I just think Mallory would fit in perfectly with the found family trope. None of them are really great people so he fits in so well 😭 I know I'm deluding myself thinking two people with the same power and background could be given equal space in the book so Mallory's end is probably final. But it was a little more vague so maybe? 🥹 What do we think does anyone else want him back? Also I know mentions of an adaptations are out there and I can't get the image how the last chapter would look on screen: Albert and Scarlett discussing the fight, thinking about the future joking about how Mallory is under several buildings and the future looks so bright. And then post credits we just see him come crawling out the revine. Or is that too cliche? But a small dose of cliche is healthy in a western vibe book right?
Mallory goading Albert before their fight was actually really cute as well; he was 🤏🏼 this close to being a mentor to Albert like an annoying af big brother or something 😭 I can picture him flirting with Scarlett as well purely to be irritating.
And I understand Albert being upset about Mallory killing the watchman - Albert does feel bad about hurting people even in self defense and it contrasts to Mallory not caring at all, but I was surprised that it was such a strong catalyst for his rage? Mallory kind of inadvertently helped them by getting rid of someone who could sound the alarm.
I just really love Mallory's pursuit of perfection leading to his own self hatred and I feel like it could be explored more with him as a character. Nathaniel gradually became more fearful of uncleanliness and disorder as he lost control of his life but it's cool to see the concept of a character viewing themself as impure and being filled with self hatred because of that (again gimmie those catholic guilt vibes all day long.)
I also like how he hasn't got the fear of his power that Albert has; Albert fears himself Mallory hates himself instead. But he also hates 'normal' people too which is really interesting, he just seems so lonely that's why I want him to join the little ragtag group 😭
Dr Calloway's death felt very justified but Mallory's (potential?) death just felt hollow because he's exciting and doesn't feel like his story was filled out enough. But then again we don't have any information about Calloway- not even a first name. The effect it gives is of a faceless entity of an institution. Even the description of her wearing glasses gives the impression of dehumanising her- If anyone knows anything about the Stanford Prison Experiment that's the impression she leaves. And that lack of knowledge about her is fulfilling in a way. No real personality shines through because she's been dehumanised. But Mallory is different - we see little glimpses of his personality, he's less of a faceless entity.
And even when Albert is trying to convince him to join them (whether this was supposed to be a trick or genuine I wasn't sure- Albert is kind enough to have been genuine but also I don't know if he'd want to risk Joe, Ettie and Scarlett) his reaction shows the cracks in his confident swagger. He's furious when Albert suggests society hates him, even though he's stated it himself many times and says he's accepted that fact. It kinda gave me the impression he's just trying to convince himself he's okay with being an outcast an completely alone but hearing it from someone else reminds him of the trauma of having it pointed out by Drs in Stonemoor and the defence mechanisms start to kick in.
And during his fight with Albert we see him have a real connection with someone- he and Albert share strange moments bordering on bonding with each other. I think it's a connection they both need because no on else has such similar shared experiences. I don't even want a redemption arc for him- he's irredeemable in the same way Scarlett and Albert are which is why he fits in with them so much!
Anyway what do people think? Do you think Mallory will return? Do you want him to? I'm so excited for the last book to come out and so scared I'll be disappointed 🥲
Aside from Mallory; the will they won't they of Scarlett and Albert is stressing me out! I can't decide if they're even meant to be shipped or not. It doesn't help that Albert's age is left really vague - Scarlett makes him sound quite young in comparison to her but Albert says she's hardly older than him so idk. I know Stroud tends to keep these things vague on purpose but this seems more so than usual which makes me think I'm crazy when they have adorable moments together.
I kind of get the impression Albert has a sort of crush on Scarlett but she views him as a little brother. How does everyone else see them?
#Justice for mallory#the outlaws scarlett and browne#scarlett and browne#scarlett mccain#nathaniel underwood#Ooof way longer than i meant this to be
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
Snapped - Part 2
Mech’s not sure why the aftermath of this mission is hitting him so hard, but he’s doing his best to calm down when Gwen’s presence shatters his control. Now it’s a count down to see if he can figure out how to put a stop to the instincts and hormones that are running wild inside him—before he does something they’ll both regret.
Science fiction, alien romance, male alien x female human
Story Status: COMPLETE
AO3: Snapped Chapter 2
[Part 1] Part 2 [Part 3] [Part 4 - NSFW]
Gwen always knows when he’s acting gruff because that’s his default attitude and when he actually needs the space, needs the quiet. She follows him silently, casually messing with her screen to make sure he doesn’t feel any pressure to talk, but he can feel her attention on him regardless.
Part of him is pleased by that, in the way he always is when he has her attention, but the growing part is more thrilled than usual, is already planning how best to prove he deserves her regard, how to convince her to keep her attention on him, only him. He presses his lips together to keep everything he wants to say trapped in his head where they belong.
Mech resists the urge to quicken his pace, determined that these ridiculous hormones not make him rush, not betray how tenuous his control feels at the moment. Usually, his grip on displaying emotions and not giving into them—no longer regulated for his people, but large displays of emotion in public is still generally considered vulgar—is solid.
What many consider a graviel’s typical lack of emotions is merely habit and politeness these days, as they’d never managed to breed or medicate those emotions out, no matter how much the coalition had strived to. With the coalition overturned, there were plenty of graviels who choose to show their distaste for past norms by letting every stray thought show on their face, but most still played things very close to the vest when compared with the other species out here in space.
Between the common demeanor which most read as stern, the counterculture berserkers, and the intimidating vibrant red, orange, and yellow colorings most had, rumors about graviels spread far and wide from their corner of the galaxy. Sometimes it was useful—common knowledge of his unique biochemistry is what granted him the private, personal medbay that they are now heading towards. Socially though, it was often a detriment. People tended to be either intimidated or determined not to be intimidated with false shows of bravado—all of which grew tiring very quickly.
Gwen was one of the few who had been neither. Mech had been suspicious at first, expecting her casual facade to fade over time and betray which camp she belonged to. Yet it never had. Instead, one day, she’d called him out on his own attitude and how he’d been looking for fault in her reactions which she explained, in clear concise detail, were only the consequences of his, admittedly poor and suspicious, attitude. They’d both backed off that day and slowly, tentatively, come to a new understanding which had blossomed into one of the richest, most rewarding relationships he’d ever had.
And now it’s all in danger because some stupid primitive hormonal shift out of his control. Mech tries to focus on his frustration with the idea that something so stupid could mess up this precious connection instead of all the reasons to push the edges of their relationship like his instincts are whispering in his ear to do.
The impulses are getting stronger and he knows he hasn’t hidden his relief at finally reaching the medbay from Gwen well enough judging by the way she looks at him with mounting concern. The door swishes open at his touch and for once he goes in first, instead of ushering her ahead of him. He knows he couldn’t handle her so close to him as she would need to be in order to walk by him.
Without looking back at her, he can sense her second of hesitation, her notice of this change to their normal, but he steadfastly refuses to look back. He walks over to the monitor and instantly begins calling up the diagnostic software.
Mech wishes the small medbay next to his quarters was bigger, wishes her scent wasn’t already flooding it. Humans, always giving off so many pheromones and scents, spilling their chaos everywhere.
He loves it most of the time. He hates it right now.
“So, now can you tell me?” Gwen asks and honestly it's a good show of her restraint that she waited until they were in private to push again. Gwen’s always been the curious sort and he doubts this is any different.
He just grunts in reply though, not sure where to even begin to explain. The noise in his head is a cacophony of sexual impulses and desires he can only ignore by single-mindedly focusing on putting together something to shut them up, even temporarily, so he can think and find a more permanent solution. He needs to create the largest hormonal dampener—without actually knocking himself out or putting his mind into a loopy haze—that he can.
He hates having to do so, hates going back to that past history of his species, but the sad truth is that many such concoctions do exist, he just needs to pick the one with the most tolerable side-effects.
Methodically, he begins going through the cabinets as soon as he sets the database running through possibilities for treatment. He’s never been so glad he has his own medbay and that everything is in his native language so she can’t read it. He doesn’t want her to know about this weakness of his, this lapse in control. It’s too shameful, too revealing.
“Seriously, Mech?” Gwen says, insistent and annoyed. He chances a glance in a mirrored jar to catch a glimpse her glorious form and has to swallow the venom pooling in his mouth at the sight. Her hands are on her hips—never a good sign and yet, he’s always had a soft spot for the heat of her anger. Well, perhaps soft spot is the wrong turn of phrase for what a feisty Gwen does to him.
“What’s going on?” her tone is no-nonsense and supportive at the same time and he wants to let it all just spill out.
Every second that goes by makes it that much harder to war against his instincts. Instincts that have suddenly decided he needs to claim his mate before she is taken away, by death or rivals—by anything. The fact that she isn’t actually his mate doesn’t matter to the primal beast within. Only that he wants her to be, desperately. Only that she hasn’t rejected him, since he’s never bothered to ask when he knows the answer. Only that she cares about him enough to fool his hormones into thinking she’d be receptive.
“Told you,” he replies, pulling down bottles and ignoring the extra layer to his voice—a deeper, throatier tone that betrays what he’s fighting so hard to control. “Personal problem.”
“Yeah, well, that’s useless,” Gwen replies, throwing her hands up. She’s not wrong—that’s sort of the point of giving an answer like that. Half the time Gwen is good at taking the hint, but if she’s actually worried then— “And I don’t see what it has to do with me. So if you’re just gonna ignore me, then I might as well go—”
“No!” He’s suddenly in front of the door out, his typically black eyes wild—glowing with orange light strong enough he can see it on her face. She freezes, finally eyeing him like the beast he’s turning into. His claws lengthening, starting to drip with venom that isn’t harmful to humans, not exactly, but still instinctive given his need to keep her here. He tries to calm down, tries to breathe, but her scent is everywhere—all of his senses heightened and trained on her. He tries another tactic, reminding himself that she’s here—she’s just worried about him, she’s not going to leave.
“I. Apologize,” Mech grits out. “I will try to explain. Just please.” He knows she can hear the desperate edge to his voice but he can’t bring himself to reign it in, “Take it back.”
Only now Gwen isn’t showing any fear, like a sane person would at even the hint of an out-of-control graviel. It looks like she was just startled. She only looks worried—for him. “I’m sorry, Mech. You just…” she trails off and he feels himself lose some tension as she continues to stay where she is, as she makes no move to disappear. But he stays where he is and she seems to realize that. She frowns, but figures out what he’s waiting for before he has to clarify. “I’m not going anywhere,” she says clearly, meeting his eyes sincerely. “Promise.”
He feels the spines along his back and arms slowly relax—he hadn’t even realized they were up. He closes his eyes, breathes in another lungful of Gwen tinted air. His eyes are back to normal as carefully he moves back towards the bench. “I don’t mean to—” he cuts off the excuse before he can finish it. “It’s very hard to think right now. I… need…” He shakes his head, finding words to say to her that aren’t just a list of what he wants to do with her—carnally—fails.
“Take your time,” Gwen soothes. She hops up on the med table. “Just… let me know what I can do to help.”
He pushes down the image of her spread out across the table, skirts up around her waist as he— Mech staggers to the workbench, combines the last few compounds. It spins together while he continues to work on his control. It's not working, every second that passes he can feel the strain growing. “Talk.” It takes him a second to realize he was the one who spoke, his voice still far too full of gravel. He nearly doesn’t recognize it. His eyes flick to her face and away. “Could you…just talk about something? Anything?”
Gwen picks up on his need for distraction easily. After they got over the first hurdle of their initial misunderstanding of each other, she’s been more in sync with him than anyone else he’s ever met. “Sure. Staci knows some people here—it's why we’re parked for free.”
She chatters on about their crewmates for a few minutes while the sedative mixes and he holds completely still—a rigid statue in all but substance. His thoughts try to hold onto what she’s saying, but he’s focusing on the way her voice sounds more than anything. How she would sound as he carefully coaxed her to ecstasy.
His thoughts narrow down to, wait, wait, wait. One more moment. Just need to wait for—a small ding sounds and he can’t help but lunge for it. He doesn’t bother drinking it, taking the vial, fitting it into a syringe and plunging it into his thigh. Luckily, his aim is true and he hits the vein, even aiming through his clothes.
She gives a small yelp of surprise at the abrupt motion, the desperate way he acts.
It doesn’t matter because he can feel it helping—cool numbness spreading slowly through his system, dampening the fever and the need to take her. The hormonal haze dissipates to something that can coexist with rational thought.
Mech breathes in and her scent no longer makes his fingers twitch with the urge to feel her. Well, no more than usual. He’s long perfected the art of ignoring those urges and he’s finally able to do so again. He feels his grip on himself tighten mentally and he slumps in relief.
He won’t make a terrible mistake, he won’t ruin their friendship—he won’t expose himself and have her reject him, tainting their relationship irreparably.
“What was that?” Gwen’s voice shakes as she asks and he realizes just how much effort she must have been putting into making it seem like everything was fine. Because she’s not anymore. Her honey brown eyes are wide with worry and concern. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I will be,” Mech’s voice is still rather rough, but he sounds more like himself. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I…” He reaches up to run his fingers through his thick hair. “I seem to be suffering under the effects of some abrupt and intense internal chemistry problems.”
She seems relieved to see him acting more like himself, that he’s speaking in full sentences with more of his usual precision, but her eyes narrow as she considers him. “Something happened back there, didn’t it?” Gwen asks shrewdly.
“Yes,” he admits, not bothering to ask when she mean—there’s no point in trying to deny that. “No idea why, but it did. Let’s just say after generations of my people controlling themselves chemically, that it’s left us with an unpredictable element to our biology. Even though we’ve stopped and are trying to recover from that sort of…repression, it’s not an exact science. Flare ups happen.”
“Right,” Gwen says slowly. He knows she’s always paying attention to what he reveals about himself—there’s a certain intent look she gets in her eyes. Not to mention what research she might have done beyond what he lets slip. Hopefully she knows enough not to press too much. That he can say just enough to weather this storm without her finding out the exact nature of the ‘flare up’. “And that’s what that was?”
“What it is,” he corrected because it's important she not completely let her guard down. “I only slowed the reaction down with that shot.” He grunts as he pulls out a heavy metal case—it contains all the rarer substances from his home planet. “Now that I can think, I need to figure out how to stop it and flush out my system.”
“What does this all have to do with me?”
He freezes for a second before he goes back to cataloging what he has at his disposal. Leave it to his clever human to ask the right question. “My instincts are in turmoil right now,” he settles on. “Having you here—it helps.”
“Why?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. A cheeky grin spreads across her face as her legs swing lightly against the table, as Gwen starts to relax the longer he acts like himself again. “Because I’m your favorite?”
Mech barks a laugh at the echo of his thought from earlier on her lips. “Exactly.” Then the mirth slides from his face. “The idea of letting you out of my sight, where something might happen to you is… Unbearable. Even more than usual.”
Gwen’s face softens and her hand twitches as if to reach out to him. It settles back in her lap, evidently she remembers what he had done earlier to avoid said touch. “Mech, I’m fine. You’re fine. We’re all fine now.”
“I know,” Mech says gruffly, feeling like a child after a nightmare, upset even though he knows it's over and unable to believe in current safety despite every evidence that it is. “I know. Just, indulge me.”
“Of course,” Gwen says graciously—obviously not completely understanding the nuts and bolts of the situation, but seeing enough. As always. “Anything more helpful I can do though? You know me, I hate to sit around on my hands.”
That sends a spike of heat through him. He can think of a number of ways she could help him out, no hands required. His eyes flare and he tries to breathe through the sudden impulse.
This sedative isn’t gonna buy him nearly as much time as he thought.
“Mech…” She notices his reaction, no matter how quickly he’d clamped down on it, because of course she does. Sliding down from the table, she reaches out to him—obviously having decided it's worth the risk. Normally her touch calms him, but he knows it won’t right now so he ducks out of the way, putting a cart between them.
“Sorry,” he says, a pang of guilt at her hurt expression. “It's complicated. You can’t touch me. Would make it worse.”
Her face screws up in confusion. “Why?”
“Just will. Need to balance all the, the factors,” Mech turns back to the computer and feeds it a drop of blood, the brief stick of pain helping. “Territorial instincts can be contradictory. Need you close, but not too close or other…” The computer beeps and his heart sinks as he reads the report. A rare condition, with minimal case studies and all reports of this happening have been with mated couples, not unmated ones. Well, there’d been one who’s mate had died a month prior. He did not survive the imbalance.
Mech slams his fist into the desk in frustration. A flask on the counter jolts wildly in reaction and starts to tip over. Mech reaches out a hand to stop its fall at the same time Gwen does. Her hand lands on the back of his. His hand instantly flexed at the feel of her soft skin against his own, as the nerve endings zip with pleasure at the touch of the one he desires.
The flask gives a short whining creak before it shatters under the pressure he’s exerting on it. Cursing again, Mech pulls Gwen back, his tail looping around her elbow to tug her away from the glass as he lunges for a towel.
He ignores her squawk of protest at his actions and focuses on the fact that glass could hurt her so as to ignore the feel of her under his tail.
It’s only when he’s cleaned it all up in record time that her voice finally breaks through. “Mech! You’re bleeding. Let go of me,” she gives a short tug to where his tails is looped around her arm, “and let me help. I know how to act around a little broken glass.”
He blinks down at the towel he’d been using to see some streaks of dark blue staining it. With a grunt, he drops it down the disposal shoot and grabs a roll of bandages. As he sprays the shallow cut across his palm with disinfectant, he tries with the rest of his focus to convince his own tail to unwrap from Gwen’s arm. Even after he’s secured a neat bandage to the cut he still can’t even feel, he’s not made any progress in releasing her.
“Mech?” Gwen’s voice has a tremble he hates in it. “Will you say something? You’re…just look at me, please?”
He’s never been able to refuse her before, not really, and there’s no chance of him doing so like this. He sets down the roll of linen and turns to look at her.
Her eyes widen at the glow in his own, the shame in his eyes must be obvious at how he’s lost control of this reaction too, just like his thrice cursed disobedient tail. “Mech, I thought… This still seems pretty bad,” she settles on. “And, I’ve gotta be real, you’re confusing the hell out of me. First you don’t want me to leave, but then you don’t want me too close. Now you won’t let me go.”
Mech’s hand shakes for a second before he grips the edge of the counter so the tremor is disguised. He knows he’s being a contradictory bastard. “I—Am I hurting you?”
“What? Of course not,” Gwen replies, sincere confusion in her face helps some of the shame at his brazen actions, but it also encourages him. His tail’s hold loosens but the amount of skin it’s covering grows as the tail lengthens. Gwen twitches a little at the move, before she ignores it to keep her gaze fixed on him. “But I don’t get it and I can’t help if you keep being so vague. Please, just drop the pride for a minute and talk to me. We can pretend it never happened, but you know you work better with someone to talk at. I don’t even care if you go over my head with the terminology. But stop trying to pretend this isn’t happening and that you have to solve it on your own.”
Mech closes his eyes because she’s so right, damn it all. He often can’t make sense of his own thoughts unless he talks aloud. Gwen’s his best sounding board and she asks just the right questions that let him make the necessary connections needed to solve problems. This isn’t any different, but it has to be, because he can’t tell her. He’ll lose her for good if she finds out what he wants. And, for all its his hormones dialing everything so far beyond usual, he does want her. More than anything he’s ever craved in his life.
But what choice does he have? How closely can he walk that line with his body turned against him like this?
“Alright, alright,” he gives in. “I’ll try to explain.”
[Part 3]
#my writing#story: snapped#snapped#alien#scifi#science fiction#alien romance#osha compliant#3rd POV#mech#gwen#heat#mech's really giving it his all#but we know he can't last#what sort of fic would this be if that was the case?#this middle part got long so now its gonna b a total of 4 parts#work is still very busy so we'll see what my timeline will be#my hope is still to finish this by end of the month#but -shrugs helplessly-#let me know what you think!
117 notes
·
View notes
Note
Neo, please, try Xanxus and situation where he could realize Tsu-chan is capable of being good Boss. Last time I love how you wrote Xanxus. I really like how you think about him because it is close to me. ♥️
[Neo Game Time] || @signorinavongola Requested character: Xanxus
Note: As your version of Tsuna is different from canon and as the gender differences will trigger other differences in dynamics, I chose to go in-between scenes so I don’t have to write about Tsu-chan as often. I didn’t want to risk writing something and be wrong about how she’d speak/act. So it’s a pretty generalized scene.
-
Just any other night where Xanxus had gone to ‘sleep’, but more or less he’d more accurately had passed out after drinking and eating his fill. One may think he was suitable for the sin of gluttony if not for his rage burning its mark on any who dare to impede his path.
Normally, his nights were simple, with nothing but darkness, rarely ever dreaming of anything. His sleep cycles were usually on the short side, despite him falling back to sleep periodically which made it seem like he slept like a lazing Lion leaving all the work to the hardworking busy bees that worked underneath him. Recreational drinking had always been an activity he enjoyed, but he’d engaged in it more in recent times.
The man was loathe to admit it, and never would vocalize it in words—but there was a part of him who found sleeping unnerving. There was something about it that was so reminiscent of the time he’d been frozen in frozen dying will flames, where his mind had slowly become so stagnant it was like it too had frozen in time. Sleeping had a way of simulating that situation, though it was more controlled. Each time, he’d awake from his slumber in a horrible mood, and he still had ignorantly deluded himself into thinking that he was cranky from waking from a slumber that wasn’t restful.
It was true, but not for the reason he thought it was. No, it wasn’t Squaletta’s voice that grated on his ears, rousing him awake. It wasn’t the sound of chaos from the Squad leaders either. It was something he’d yet to make peace with within himself.
Perhaps, he never would- but what’s it to you if he never does anyway? BUZZ OFF, SCUM.
For the first time in a very long time, he dreamt of something, but it felt all too real, and it had gone on for much longer than it should have. Waking with an irritated startle, the man growls, rubbing the temples of his forehead.
Of ALL THE THINGS for him to have a dream of, it HAD to involve that ‘10th generation’ BRAT! What irritated him the most was that there was a sense of respect and acceptance he remembered feeling. Absurd! Reaching for his bottle of whiskey, the irritating discovery of the bottle being lighter than he expected, he throws the bottle into the wall absolutely SEETHING with RAGE. Where else was he to funnel his frustrations over the notion that he may one day come to ACCEPT that fucking brat.
His injuries from the battle of the sky still stung upon his flesh and ran numb to his very bones. Thinking back, the ‘dream’ felt too complex and linear to be a figment of his imagination. There was a memory of that damned old man dying at the hands of some fucked up guy, not that he had any room to judge.
Under the banner of the Vongola, the Varia had mobilized to battle against Byakuran and his funeral fuckwads (don’t blame him for not giving a SHIT for what they were actually called. Ask Squalleta those kinda details).
Admittedly, the brat had some mettle to her, much more than the last he’d seen her. There was more determination behind her eyes, more experience, and the bravado to put her fists where they needed to be. The way she roared with anger over that little whatever the fuck she was disappeared was exemplary, he’d admit. The rage was quite becoming of someone who would wear the mantle of the Vongola 10th.
If she couldn’t strike the fear into the hearts of her enemies nor intimidate them, he’d show them why the Varia were called elite-assassins. He’d see to it that she couldn’t live past the age of adulthood.
The power she displayed then was worthy of banding the Vongola name under her influence.
“Tsk.”
He needs another bottle so he can drink himself into a mind-numbing sleep again.
-
How willing am I to pick up character: Mmnnnn... maybe 5/10? I'm not super vested in considering picking him up mostly because his personality-type is one that would make me feel super guilty like--- all the time lololol. I'm not that into characters that are aggressive. I do have some, but they're a bit more passive about it initially. Xanxus has that element too but he's also quick to anger and then he's 0-100 real fast. I'm not that good at being-- mean. Knowing him, he'd be involved in a lot of fight threads or something and man... fight threads-- MY BEHATED LOLOL. Though, I do think he's a very interesting character and he would be quite fun to flesh out. The other reason I'm kinda mmnnn about it is... that means I gotta icon for him. NOOOooooooooo I hate doing it! May consider him as an exclusive muse if there was an actual strong interest for him.
Other notes: Japan is like 8 hours ahead of Italy, and it seemed that everyone had returned home maybe midday? That’s just my approximation, so more than likely, it was still night or super early morning in Italy when everyone returned from the TYL arc. Hence, I had Xanxus asleep. Some of this was written in a casual monologue, and some parts of it was more inner monologuing of Xanxus. I thought it would be interesting to mix it up and add in both kinds mostly because mans isn’t going to reveal his thoughts easily unless I gotta piss it out of him, lol! The things I do for these prompts. The risks I take lol. (I hid behind a napping Hibari, no worries) Choice of alcohol is based off what he likes (Tequila and whiskey). I personally headcanon that Xanxus's mind wasn't really active when he was frozen, and so his mentality is still stuck from the time he was frozen- so his mental age and physical age haven't quite synched up. Knowing that you lost years from being frozen, I imagine that being in a state similar to that can't be that comfortable. Hence, I believe he does rely on a bit of alcohol or something to aid him to bed. Just given by how he acts and knowing the truth about his history, you could only imagine he doesn't like himself and there is a depressive energy to him. So now, it translates into him being a bit more lazy in the way he works, and he will drink a lot or eat his fill of quality food to better his mood. I like to think a lil bit of how he is the leader of the Varia, he does exhibit some of the other traits of 'sin'. Like, he's certainly the wrath, but he's also got elements of sloth (his laziness and bit of his apathetic nature), he's still super prideful, you could certainly say he's full of envy when you think about how he tried to usurp the right to the Vongola name from the rightful heir, Tsuna. The sin of lust is to have a strong desire for something whether it be pleasure, power, or material things. It was easy to see how much he reveled in having power pre-popsicle boi time. This doubles as greed in my opinion as he wanted more power and that's his vice. He's just a very dynamic guy with a lot of nuances. I like to think the main Varia crew like him so much because they can relate to him on some things, and respect him as their leader. To me, it does make sense that though his cardinal sin is that of Wrath, he can also dabble in the other sins as well- which is what appeals to the others. We know this as Belphegor enjoys the way Xanxus exerts his strength and influence. Squalo was enthralled with Xanxus's ability and his strong pride. These are just a couple of examples. So I did try to throw some of that in there as well, subtly. That's as much as I have the mental capacity to explain. If you have any specific questions about something, feel free to ask! I did my best =w=
#signorinavongola#Answered ask#Neo Game Answers#Thanks for the ask!#Neo Tries a Muse#((Really sorry it took me this long to get around to this))#((As we know I had a bit going on and then I took a break and then it took me forever to gather the motivation again))#((It's easy for me to lose motivation if I take a break lol so I always gotta just keep pushing through))#((A creature of habit I am. Hope you enjoyed this! A bit simple =w= ))
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ok so you've told us about the rise! Version of your fusions, so what would the 2003 version of the fusions be like?
I could've sworn I answered this before but I can't find it so guess I just thought about it in my head? .u.
The 2003 turtles act more mature than 2012 (which prob comes from writing teenagers like they're grown adults half the time but I digress). The fusions also have no doubt that Splinter loves them, because '03 Splinter was actually quite chill with his kids fusing into other beings. He's seen weirder.
He actually trains them to focus their minds and gives them exercises for teamwork and learning how to make their fusions more stable, and make it easier to unfuse when they need to. He also gives the fusions themselves their own training.
Pheo is a storm. He's entirely confident in himself, in leading, in being a good brother, he knows his component parts are both good at what they do. Raph always calls Leo out for his bad leadership choices and Leo always holds back Raph's impulsive sides. Pheo's relatively calm, his anger is quiet and controlled like a fine point.
Deangelo is a LOT calmer. Still has that ADHD/Autism solidarity, still very positive and cheerful. Still very much thinks out of the box, though his ideas are less "silly" and more "terrifyingly efficient". He hides any hint of negative emotions that he has and never processes anything. Refuses to. Jokes about it or just suppresses it. Also he's the best artist of the fusions! He loves to draw! :D
Daphy isn't explosive at all. His anger is cold as ice and happens slowly over time, with lots of planning. 2012 Daphy will explode a building 2003 Daphy will get it legally demolished by a construction crew while making you pay out of your pocket for it and destroy any chance of gaining income for the next 30 years. His FAVORITE thing is motorcycles and he wants to build them in his spare time. Also the most protective over his brothers! Would kill a man for looking at Leo or Mikey wrong.
Mio is literally the most terrifying thing anyone has ever had to fight. He can take Splinter down. Mikey and Leo's skills combined are such a terrifying combination. He's not as flashy and cocky, he's more... Sure of himself, is the best way I can think to put it. He is however still VERY dramatic. Plays dead often to trick enemies into getting close enough to hit him and usually scares the shit out of his brothers when he does do this. But now enemies are even more scared to get near him while he's down. :)
Lonny is cool as a cucumber. Calm, collected, nothin' pisses him off, nothing shakes him. He has anxiety but it's all inward turmoil and never really shows on the outside except in small moments. He snaps sometimes if he gets too anxious. He's also the most protective of his brothers! His planning is immaculate and he's great at adapting honestly. Inside he is a literal mess. If he's left alone he gets increasingly anxious, though he usually defuses before it can get to that point.
Machiel is rough-and-tumble, goofy sarcastic, snuggliest dude. He can and will eat several whole pizzas on his own. Most openly affectionate. He's got some self-worth issues, like he worries if he's doing enough, if he's good enough, but he mostly covers this up with bravado and posturing. Angry crier which only pisses him off more.
121 notes
·
View notes
Text
S2 E5-"Breakage
Sorry about the long posting gaps, new job+sick+RDR2+L+ratio etc. Favorite line from this episode is "why don't you stop being such a freak about everything" I think I should be paid to say that to Walt once an hour.
TW: Racism, police brutality, addiction, alcoholism
So I've always been really unsure what to make of the cold opening of the two illegal immigrants crossing the Rio Grande. With the analytic frameworks I've applied until this point I think I'm choosing to understand it as complicating the idea that violence is sneaking up into the US across the Mexican border. Two scared, shivering men cross the river, and on the other end find an artifact of state-sanctioned violence. It never had to be imported from "lawless Mexican hell", as Marie describes it. We grow it just fine right here.
The cigarettes Walt finds jammed in the toilet act in visual parallel to Jesse's meth that he tried to flush down the toilet last season. The scene where he confronts Skyler about them is chockful of hypocrisy. Smoking while pregnant is bad for the baby's health. So is being a meth dealer trading with people who will shoot your whole family. Beyond that, though, there's one line from Skyler that stands out to me: "I'm sure you'll be very glad to hear that yes, I feel ashamed." She's accurately calling out what Walt's actual priority is. It's not determining the health of their child, or trying to help her so she doesn't feel the need to seek out a narcotic to cope. It's punishing her for needing an escape in the first place. Exactly the attitude he spends all of last season directing at Jesse.
Speaking of more socially acceptable addictions. I have never once seen anyone draw a connection between the fact that Walt cooks meth and Hank brews beer. Both manufacture substances that have heavy ties with addiction, and that can destroy lives. Both seem to seek out the crafting process as an escape from their day to day stress (Hank taking a day off to try and self-therapize with it). Only difference is Hank operates under the banner of legality, something the two of them talk about indirectly in 1x07.
We're getting in this episode to how Walt tends to mythologize the brown men around him into figures of ultimate violence, but also ultimate power. His disdain for Tuco is pretty explicitly racialized when he disparagingly asks Jesse if "you['re] gonna beat your 'homies' to death when they 'diss' you?" However, later in this episode he criticizes Jesse for not being ENOUGH like Tuco. "You think Tuco had 'breakage'? I guess that's true. He broke bones." This is of course, factually inaccurate. Beyond what we see in BCS that establishes Tuco had some clear problems in his organization that went way beyond some product theft, it's also just actually impossible to run any kind of business without experiencing any kind of skimming. Like Jesse says, J.C. Penney's gets breakage. How much more so when you're dealing with a substance that inherently manufactures dependence? None of those realities matter to Walt, though, who is chasing after his idea of what a kingpin is like. Tuco doesn't live on in his memories as a unstable guy with an uncle he looks after and poor long-term planning. Instead, he's transformed into an unstoppable killing machine, brutal and (you should read the full racial implications into this word) savage, but also untouchable. The kind of man Walt secretly longs to be and is currently using Jesse as a proxy to try to achieve
This is further doubled down on when, after an argument with Skyler where Walt feels unmanned by his inability to control his wife's behavior, he goes right to Jesse's house and demands he take care of business. Its him trying to imitate Tuco again, though this time not by his own hands.
Jesse is also doing some imitation here. It's not Tuco he acts like at the meeting though. It's Walt.
Hank can't glorify the Tuco fight with his usual bravado. He can, however, provide unique insight into a cop's view of a criminal when he describes them as functionally subhuman. Cockroaches. Your first instinct is to step on them. Drug dealers, addicts, gangsters, Mexicans they aren't people like you and me. If you saw one, you would immediately know you had to crush it to preserve yourself. This is going to get sooooo beautifully subverted next episode.
The Skyler-Marie conflict continues to act in parallel to the Skyler-Walt conflict, with Skyler refusing to proceed until Marie does her the basic service of respecting her with the truth. Marie tantrums like Walt does, asking "why are you punishing me" and seemingly frustrated that the consequences can't just evaporate because she doesn't want to deal with them. At the end of the day though. The distinction is that Marie loves her sister more than her pride. Walt...remains to be seen.
#breaking bad#brba#analysis tag#long post#walter white#jesse pinkman#hank schrader#marie schrader#tuco salamanca#brba s2 e5
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
last of us 1x08
I had fucked up dreams last night after watching this episode lmfao
Obviously this will talk about the content of the ep so general cw for attempted child sexual assault and uh cannibalism I guess
Overall, probably one of the best this season. Very faithfully adapted from the game, which is a neutral point, but I was impressed that for all I knew what was going to happen basically beat by beat I was still on edge.
Not sure if this is #unpopular or not but I found David MUCH creepier here (from a starting place of "very creepy already" in the game), and I also found his characterization overall to be better. I've never really been sure if in the game you're meant to ever trust him, but I never did, partly because Nolan North plays him with the slimiest voice imaginable, so him turning out to be a creep is kind of a no-shit moment.
Whereas I thought this David was much better at putting up a front, which in turn made him all the more terrifying. It was way too easy to imagine this David pre-apocalypse, teaching (UGHHH), ingratiating himself in the community, getting away with all of it because these kinds of men so often do. The slide "from teacher to preacher" god like of COURSE this mf would find a different way to gain power, control and access over people including/especially children... Ugh it was all 2 Real and that much more creepy.
I also though the way they dealt with the cannibalism was very good honestly. It would've been easy to purely justify it with "people are starving, and we're eating the dead" -- which is kind of what David says, but you can use the context clues to deduce that it's not just that they're eating their dead out of desperation, but that they are actively hunting people for food, he's keeping it a secret, it's, imo, clearly part of his sick power-tripping rather than necessity (as others pointed out, relatively inexperienced Ellie finds game very quickly and easily in one hunting trip lol).
I also thought the slight tension between David and James was interesting here -- obviously James is also a freak, lol, but their disagreement over how to handle Ellie and the general rift between them, as the episode goes on I think you do get the sense that even James is uncomfortable with this side of David and tried roundabout ways to talk him out of going after her or just about shot her in the head. (I keep wanting to joke that James is like "I can excuse cannibalism, but..." but frankly 1. one of these things IS worse than the other and also 2. in the end he still enables everything David does anyway! Bc of course he does. Isn't that how it always goes.)
This was definitely the big showcase for Ellie and for Bella Ramsey. (Watching people whine and cry about it, "two episodes of mostly Ellie wahhhhh" lmaooo shes the main character of the franchise losers, deal with it.) Ramsey was very good. Everyone's saying it but yes the primal screaming in that restaurant scene, ugh, chilling and excellent.
I did find the very first scene between Ellie, James and David had me wincing, like Ellie's tough guy voice was just so bad and felt like a kid play-acting ... but then I suppose that was probably the exact intent, that Ellie was trying to be threatening but wasn't capable of actually BEING threatening in that moment. There's a huge difference between that fake bravado and her (entirely justified) rage and violence later in the episode.
Joel was very Joel in this. I don't have much to say about him lol, it was nice to see Pedro's Joel go a bit unhinged, something we've heard tell of in various episodes but only seen scraps of before. "It's all right, I believe him" is such a memorable bit of the game and it just as chilling here.
Ok time for some criticisms:
They leaned HARD into the pedophile angle for David here. That was always in the game, but it was fairly subtextual, with more emphasis on the cannibalism. Here it was the reverse. Although disturbing, I generally didn't mind -- but I did feel the final scene, and specifically his dialogue in it, about "liking the fight" was just too Ick for me. Very HBO. I felt we didn't need it to know what he was going to do. (Then again audiences do miss the obvious all the time...)
I didn't really miss the infected fight in this episode. I saw people say that you need it to build a false sense of trust between David and Ellie but like... lmao idk I never trusted that guy for a single second. BUT I will say I *do* wish we saw more infected in the series overall. I know it's not about the zombies~ but they are still, uh, the reason all of this is going on, fundamentally. They're what makes rebuilding a functioning large-scale society near impossible, because it falters so easily with a simple misstep leading to infection and outbreak.
The ending felt a bit rushed. The Joel-Ellie reunion didn't hit me as hard as I wanted, although it seems to have resonated with the show fans. It's not an issue (for me) of him pulling her off David, or not -- I like the way it played out -- it's just... I dunno. Something about the way it ended on the two of them wandering off together, maybe? Maybe I liked the game's cut to black with her sobbing in his arms more?
I also felt that because they spent more time with David's community, there was a real glaring absence of them in the climax. These people have been under David's thumb for who knows how long, presumably with James + co as his enforcers. Now they're free but directionless. What comes next? Obviously, the show can't explore all of that, but questions like "why hasn't anyone tried to stop Joel in town" "why didn't anyone notice the fire" "where are other guards" etc... I think we could've used another scene with Hannah and her mom (who totally looks just like Mel from TLOU2, lmao).
AND the biggest one of all...
Feeling pretty :/ about the "violent heart" speech to Ellie. From David's POV, it makes total sense for him to say those things. He's trying to manipulate and groom her. I completely buy the dialogue, from him.
But I was left wondering if I the viewer was meant to agree, concluded that I am probably supposed to agree, and also that I ... don't. This has been a recurring criticism from me of the show's portrayal of Ellie. I've mostly tried to make my peace with it by acknowledging Show Ellie and Game Ellie are different characters evolving slightly differently and living slightly different lives yadda yadda... But I dunno. I guess I won't be able to say how I feel about it until I see s2 and s3 anyway lmao.
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Yeah... Like I predicted in my previous reblog, this is a matter of character interpretation. We just don't see Ace in the same way, and at this point, it's going to be difficult to provide proper evidence against one interpretation or the other.
Still, I believe my last post may have been a bit... badly written, so let me explain my position better.
Is Ace afraid of Nico? Probably, yeah. Both your and venus-is-thinking's reblog have dispelled all doubts I could have had on that. But my point in my first reblog wasn't so much that Ace wasn't afraid of Nico at all, but rather, that he doesn't act like it. I realize my first post didn't express that well, and I apologize for that.
There's a difference on how a person feels, and how a person acts. I don't think I need to explain that. Ace in particular is a great example of that. You said it yourself: despite his fear of basically everything, Ace puts on a brave face and acts all tough. That's why he keeps insulting Nico even after the murder attempt. It's his way of saying "I'm not scared of Nico, I'm not going to change the way I act just because of what they did". It's part of his bravado.
And I believe that extends to the gym as well. If he stops going to the gym every night, it would be like admitting to himself that he's scared, that he's """weak""". So he keeps going, as an act of defiance, an act of bravado. Even if he's not fooling anyone but himself, he's still trying to convey the same message: "I'm not scared of Nico, I'm not going to change the way I act just because of what they did".
In fact, perhaps that's why he hears Arei and David in the first place. He's on high alert and nervous, so he pays close attention to any noise going on in the second floor. But still, he doesn't want to just stop going to the gym, because again, that's an admission of fear in his eyes. He's not just trying to act tough in front of the rest of the cast, he's genuinely trying to convince himself he's not scared, at least, that's my interpretation.
There are of course many other reasons he could be going there. Perhaps he simply enjoys having a set routine he always follows, to have some consistency in an otherwise stressful and chaotic experience, I know I would like that. There is also the matter of his eating disorder that others, who are probably more qualified than me in talking about this kind of thing, have brought up, and I think that's a very real factor which may influence him to go back to the gym.
As I was writing this, ivibells responded to your reblog, saying basically everything I wanted to say, better than I could. Ace wants control over his life and emotions, that's something which cuts through his entire character, down to him not liking his talent but engaging in it anyways. Being forced out of the gym by Nico's actions would be something he could never accept.
With all this in mind, I believe it's more believeable that Ace actually returned to the gym, rather than he's lying or getting the date wrong. It's also notable that, as far as I can remember, no one in the actual cast ever points his return to the gym as weird, which means they seemingly think Ace returning really isn't that wild of a concept, either.
Again, it's practically impossible to definitively prove anything when it comes down to character interpretation, but in my opinion, this isn't as big a problem as you seem to believe it is.
Something we mustn't forget about chapter 2 (DRDT)
As usual, this is a spoilers warning for DRDT chapter 2, so beware.
So, I'm sure some of you have seen me have a reasoning battle against a few people, most especially @1moreff-creator. We've had some really interesting back and forth happening.
This post is meant to be a response to 1moreff's latest post regarding their theory. So think of it as a reblog.
Why don't you just simply reblog then?
Well, that's the thing. I... messed up. For any reblogs I've made on their original theory post, they were all long posts that didn't have a cut section, a "read more" button.
So everytime you look at a reblog, you'd have to scroll through all of that to reach the latest reblog. Even though I eventually edited them all later on, the original versions are still there on the previous reblogs because the edit doesn't go through previous reblogs and the reblogger cannot edit others' posts eitheir.
So yeah... sorry about that.
But trust me however, this is a very interesting read. Especially if you've seen my version of the theory. 1moreff's uses the same whodunnit and whydunnit in their theory, but they used a totally different path as for the howdunnit. I'd recommend you all to read it if you haven't already.
With that out of the way, let's get to business. It won't take too long, I promise.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
(I'm now adressing to @1moreff-creator)
So uhm... I don't really have much to add in regards to your reblog. You've made your point in regards to anything I tackled on and we're pretty much at a stance where I can't really prove that x thing happening while you can't prove that y thing happened. Eitheir of those could work. And because they both work, they're both technicly valid.
Besides, you've already pointed out what could be your issues in regards to your theory.
the glove; the BDA having a lacking explanation; how hard and risky it would be to convince Levi of being an accomplice (though narratively consistent because of the good person thing); and how risky it is to use such a time-sensitive method.
Your biggest issue is definitly the glove, no doubt about that. Even though you do have some kind of explanation for it, it's not something you're quite convinced yourself eitheir.
In any case, I'm not gonna dwelve on it much unless you can eventually think of more solutions to these problems.
So what's the point of this "reblog" if you're not gonna refute against any of these points?
Well, upon doing my own detective work to fix my own holes in my deduction, I discovered something really interesting. Something that I can't believe I didn't realise sooner.
It has something to do with Ace's testimony. There's something off about it. There's a glaring issue with it which will become quite an issue for you.
What do you mean?
Let's start with a very quick recap. According to you, everything that Ace saw according to the flashback really happened. Meaning that in your theory, Ace was working out in the gym during the evening of DAY 3, then he heard Arei and David talking. So he decided to spy on them. So everything he heard and saw must be the truth.
According to my own theory however, Ace was not working out in the gym during the evening of DAY 3. Instead, he was working out in the evening of DAY 2, spied on them that evening and then got knocked unconscious for the attempted murder later on, which would explain why the weight rack was moved in the fitness room. So ace was eitheir lying or confused about the day he witnessed the conversation.
Anyways, if people were to believe that your version of that theory is indeed what truly happened, then we'd have to deal with a very glaring issue that I can't believe I didn't notice until yesterday. I'm convinced more than ever that Ace is wrong about the day he witnessed the conversation. It's based on simple common sense.
Common sense? It can't be that simple!
Oh, it sure can!
So according to Ace, he heard Arei talk to David in the relax room during the evening, the day after he nearly died, right? According to him, at the time, he was working out before he heard them.
So tell me... would he really dare spend time ALONE working out in the gym, literally the place where he nearly died, A DAY after he's been attacked?!
I don't think so. Especially Ace, of all people. He's a coward. That makes no sense.
But Teruk-
Teruko's different from Ace. She's no coward and she's been through a lot of bad crap her whole life based on what we learned so far. Teruko's unlucky.
Anyways, If you cannot find a proper explanation for this, then I'm afraid that your theory could potentially crumble.
I could go out of my way to explain how it would crumble, but essentially, it would come down to me explaining that the more issues you would be able to explain if you were to admit that Ace was indeed lying about the day he witnessed that conversation, the more it would look like my theory.
But before I do that, I'm gonna give you the opportunity to solve this issue I've mentioned about Ace's testimony. I think I have an idea of what you'll claim, but let's see how this plays out.
(Sorry for not reblogging this time around and sorry again for the mess I've created in those reblogs)
44 notes
·
View notes
Note
Consider: Gus makes an ill-timed joke followed by Willow elbowing him in the stomach but it's too late Hunter knows now. Hunter knows that Willow used to have a crush on the GG.
Poor dumb loser Hunter thinks 'of course Willow had a crush on the GG. I seemed so cool and confident and strong. I was put together. Now look at me :/
This made me think about how it's kinda really sad how Hunter has likely lost a whole side of himself after the events of Hollow Mind and probably looks back on the person he used to be and mourns a little. Cuz like. There was something about Hunter's persona in Seperate Tides that he can never get back. He was unflappably confident, he was full of bravado, he was fun and carefree, and this all came from a combination of that mask and uniform, the genuine belief that he was the coolest person on the Boiling Isles, and the iron grip control he had over every situation he was in.
Hunter doesn't have any of that anymore. He's unarmoured, he kinda hates himself and he has lost any semblance of control over his life. And now he's gotta rebuild his new identity from scratch. The traits are still ingrained in him and they make semi-frequent appearances, the cockiness, the lightheartedness, the chattiness. But ultimately he's just unable to summon it all back at once into the Golden Guard. It just does not come naturally to him anymore. And it feels weird to have such a disconnect from the person you were a few months ago, to barely know yourself these days. This kid has a LOT on his plate.
When he hears Willow actually used to like him, his insides flip and his ears light up for a moment of pure shock and excitement before it all deflates. Because she doesn't like him. She liked whoever that guy was. The guy who's practically a stranger to Hunter now. And he's like "well shit. SHIT!!!!"
And he tries. BY GOD does he try. He tries to pluck up some of that Golden Guard magic. He tries to replicate it. He tries to show Willow that he can still be like that. But he's such a terrible actor that his attempts are so transparently forced and almost painful looking.
Willow thinks the way he's acting is bizarre. And eventually she's like "listen idk who you're pretending to be right now but I miss Hunter. Can I talk to Hunter?"
Willow is having a fucking TIME because it's not easy to recover from your buddy learning that you had the most embarrassing baby crush on them a few years ago. But thankfully, Hunter still manages to outshine her own awkwardness. He's very considerate that way. Bless him.
123 notes
·
View notes
Text
on Violence
Chapter 1
Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3
Fandom: Ikemen Prince | Nokto Klein / Adam Kain | Words: 2k
Tags: Scriptfic, screenplay format, Political stuff, Slow burn
Summary :
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend."
One man's last fight against Obsidian's imperial control drags the Rhodolite 'noble beasts' into the fray. Thinking that he is useful for their own cause, Nokto plays along with his schemes, until both of them are not sure anymore which one of them are playing each other.
Notes: I am officially giving up on tumblr's formatting. Not enough curse words in the english language are enough to describe it. ANYWAY this fic is in AO3 only because GOD BLESS AO3'S FUNCTIONAL HTML AND CSS EDITOR. This post will include some preview of the chapter. thank you stopping by :)
Edit: edited the format and added the entire scene instead of just a snippet. still too lazy to post the full thing tho
.
ACT ONE
INT. DARK ROOM - DAY
Here is a dark dusty room. Here, we can only infer the daytime by the small hole in the wall, streaming sunlight that misses the only furniture standing inside the room, the table and chairs. The two men sitting across from each other could barely see a face in the other person.
One of them is someone we already know, Nokto Klein the 7th Prince. He is forcing his eyes to be able to see and write under this lighting situation. The other man is his prisoner. He sits leaning forward two hands on top of the table as if he's cuffed (he is not) and the way he tilts his head shrouds his expression in more darkness. However, he is very calm.
.
NOKTO
Alright, so. You are...
ADAM
Mochammad Adam.
NOKTO
Mochammad Adam... Kain?
ADAM
Kain is my father’s name.
NOKTO
Could you spell out your name, please, it would be helpful for me.
ADAM
M.. O.. C.. H.. A.. two M’s.. A.. D. . and Adam as how you usually spell it.
.
The prisoner has a foreign accent, but the words fall comfortably from his mouth. His countenance and appearance suggests that he comes from a far different culture than the prince. Nokto dutifully nods as he writes each letter into the prisoner's file. His tone and demeanour are unlike his usual bravado. It reeks of fake compassion. Over-pacification of the situation.
.
ADAM
May I ask, what exactly are your reasons to be here, your Highness?
NOKTO
Well? Like we discussed. I’m here—on behalf of the royal court—to set things straight with your father’s side of the family.
.
A subtle eye roll.
ADAM
(amused)
... Sure. Only the two of us. And are we waiting for them, or?
NOKTO
Oh, no. I’m representing them.
ADAM
You?
NOKTO
Yours truly.
ADAM
Is it a prince’s job to...represent noble families?
.
The prince chuckles.
.
NOKTO
If I may be honest–
ADAM
I would prefer it if you do.
NOKTO
I am here since... This counts as a diplomatic matter. You and your mother, as I gather, comes from Obsidian–
ADAM
The Obsidian imperial government has nothing to do with this.
NOKTO
Yes, regardless, this is still, should we say...an inter-state matter.
Adam resigns to the cards he's being dealt with.
ADAM
Will I ever be talking to my father's family directly?
NOKTO
They may come up in the future.
ADAM
In the future.
NOKTO
Uhuh. Bottom line is, sir Kain, right now all we’re doing is playing catch up. You father's will aside, we don't actually have you yet on our records. Nothing we can do before that, I'm afraid. We’re going to finish this up very quickly though, I promise you.
Clearly, none of this is actually about waiting for his name to be written on some paper. But Adam plays along anyway, as both of the men have silently agreed on doing. Adam points out the suitcase kept under Nokto’s chair.
ADAM
Inside that suitcase you've kindly taken away from me—I’ve brought everything you will need. It’s all translated for you. Record of birth, father, mother...
Nokto wagers the man's intentions before reaching down, pulling the suitcase up on the table. He tries not to rummage too much but he finds inside it some boxes, one clearly of matches and the other a cold, silver one. Could be of cigarettes. He pulls out the papers filling the rest of the case.
They truly look like documentations of sorts, made with a very rudimentary printing method that doesn't sit the ink well. But in the dark he can make it out enough.
NOKTO
Oh, so your tribe keeps records like these! That's very impressive.
We can feel Adam's irritation even through his blank expression.
NOKTO
Sorry I mean, this is a very helpful–
ADAM
Yes we do, only very recently. We’re starting to document every person that we can.
NOKTO
It’s very handy isn’t it. Although I bet it’s a pain in the ass—excuse the language—to file in that many people all at the same time. God knows how much I hate paperworks even on good days.
ADAM
Well... as I found out, it's not that much work.
As Nokto completes what he needs to fill out, he notices something about Adam's documents.
NOKTO
The format looks close enough to ours.
ADAM
Hm. That would be because my father taught us from his years of working in the court.
NOKTO
Ah. That would be it. Isn’t that an interesting history for your people.
ADAM
Sure.
Wrong again! Sitting quietly in mutually acknowledged awkwardness, Nokto finishes up the document.
NOKTO
Alright, well, sir Kain–
ADAM
Call me Adam.
NOKTO
Sir and Lord-to-be Adam, before I go, it would be nice if you could tell me... what exactly uh, happened here. What exactly transpired that led to this.
Here it is, the real purpose of their meeting.
ADAM
I think you’ve heard it all.
NOKTO
I heard everything that you've done, but not your perspective.
Raised brow. 'Is that really, actually what you want to know?'
ADAM
(sigh)
Well, what your Highness needs to understand, is that my father passed away in our home, in Yashpar. You've read his will. We sent messengers to his immediate family but they always replied by kicking us out. After a week has passed, we have no other respectful choice but to bury him.
NOKTO
Yes. This matter. Before all this happened we have received demands from the late Marquis’ family regarding the return of his... remains. However we thought this was clearly not the King's business at all. I believe they strictly want him buried in Rhodolite?
ADAM
Yes and that cannot happen anymore.
NOKTO
I know Lord Kain made it very clear in his will how he wished to be taken care of after his passing, but um, how should I put this...
Nokto drums his fingers on the table.
NOKTO
Regardless, your actions today risks sparking up international concern.
Adam leans back on his chair.
ADAM
It happens every other day. I’m merely defending our territory in self-defence. Is that a felony?
NOKTO
Yes, well, we will get to that, we definitely will.
The door to the dark room is opened, letting out light into what now obviously looks to be a prison cell. Nokto is clearly acting as an interrogator. Not a friend, nor a sympathetic filing clerk. The 'good cop' at best.
Read more on AO3
43 notes
·
View notes
Note
I feel dumb for asking, but what exactly were the specific fears Rukia was seeing in regards to Ichigo, byakuya and Orihime.
Here’s the panel in question:
All of these are scenes from earlier in canon. Unlike the scene in Byakuya’s fight with As Nodt, where it’s very clear that what he fears is Rukia dying, it’s a little vague exactly what these fears are meant to represent, but here are some of my best guesses:
On the upper left is a scrap of Rukia kneeling by Byakuya’s side after he took Gin’s sword for her (the panels under the lefthand speech bubble are just more of this scene); just over Rukia’s left shoulder is the bit where, controlled by Zommari, she’s holding her sword to her own throat. The larger shot of Byakuya is also from the Zommari fight (I am only mildly ashamed to say that I recognized it from the blood spatter on his scarf, but it appears in Ch 302 right next to the other one, so I likely would have figured it out anyway). I think this one is pretty straightforward: Byakuya is a strong guy. He’s incredibly skilled and he doesn’t take chances. He has one weak spot, though, and it’s Rukia. She’s afraid of him dying for her sake, perhaps with a side of fear of failing him, generally.
The Orihime panels are the bit from the Advance Team Arc where Urahara tells Orihime to stay out of the coming battle, and Rukia reassures her and decides to take her to Soul Society to train. I can come up with two possible explanations for this: 1) Rukia fears that Orihime doesn’t believe her, will never feel like she is enough, that Rukia can never impress upon her how much she values Orihime as a friend and a comrade. 2) The alternative is simply that Rukia took Orihime to train in Soul Society, an act that directly resulted in Orihime’s kidnapping. It’s possible the fear here is just... having put Orihime in danger.
I apologize, but I can’t place the Ichigo panel in the upper right, and it’s just too generic, I refuse to dig through the manga, trying to find it (although since the others are vintage Hueco Mundo arc, that’s where I would start, I guess?) The bottom right is obviously the Fullbringer Arc. The dialogue that goes with this panel is Rukia saying “I was able to give you Soul Reaper powers once again!” so the most obvious fear is that she wouldn’t be able to, and Ichigo would remain powerless. A runner up is the fear that Ichigo would reject Soul Society (and Rukia personally), after finding out that he was being monitored and about Ginjo.
There are two more, sort of below Rukia’s feet, Ichigo on the left and Rukia on the right that I still can’t manage to place. Based on the way the rest of this montage was made up, I would guess that these two panels are adjacent to each other. I checked half a dozen places where I thought they might be, and they were all close-but-no-cigar. If someone else’s Ichigo-recognition-subroutine is better than mine, I’d love to hear it.
HOLD THE PHONE, I just recognized the Ichigo panel by the bandage on his face. It’s from Ch 196, near the start of the Advance Team Arc, where Rukia jerks Ichigo out of his classroom and makes him fight a Hollow to shake him out of the funk he’s in. Again, I guess the fear here is that she wouldn’t be able to do that-- that actually kind of ties things together, actually, if she’s afraid of not being able to cheer both Ichigo and Orihime when they’re down, afraid of not being able to encourage Ichigo toward being the person she knows he can be.
I actually think it’s super interesting that, at least for the Orihime and Ichigo moments, these are times when Rukia comes off as ultra-confident, but I like the idea that she actually felt great doubt in herself, but pushed past it with the power of bravado.
I said in an earlier post that I hoped they would expand this scene and possibly show us what her greatest fear is, but I would also like it a lot if they padded this bit out some, too.
Update: A kind Anon id’d the last couple of panels for me, so check out this post.
#rukia kuchiki#tybw#byakuya kuchiki#orihime inoue#ichigo kurosaki#i had not actually spent a lot of mental energy trying to place these scenes before and the results turned out to be kinda neat#so thank you for asking!!#it's still pretty ambigous these are just me spitballing so if other people have other ideas i'd love to hear them#i cannot BELIEVE i placed that ichigo panel there is something WRONG in my BRAIN
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
Don't drink and kiss
For @everythinghasreason. Happy (early) birthday! 🎈🎉
(Link on AO3 later)
Rated T; 2.5k.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"You didn't kiss me last night," Lily says, the words leaving her lips before she can control herself, very much like everything she remembers saying the night before.
Specifically an impromptu admission of exactly how she feels about her fellow Head Boy, who looks at her now with a startled expression on his face, the grin he had been spotting ever since she had first seen him in the morning slowly melting away from his lips. He watches her face as if he is trying to read her thoughts—and isn’t happy with whatever he is seeing there.
For a moment she thinks James will turn his back to her, ignoring her altogether, but then he shrugs, putting his hands in his pockets as if to keep him from messing his hair, and his face rearranges its features in the most carefree expression he has ever spotted.
"You were drunk," he says as if she needs a reminder, as if her head hasn't been buzzing all morning.
"So?" Her voice is still relenting on a strange bravado. Lily wonders if the alcohol is still fuelling her. "So were you."
"So I was," he agrees slowly. "And perhaps I'd rather snog someone who will remember it the next day."
"I would have."
James blinks, unsmiling. "I don't think so."
"I remember talking to you. And I… I said things, James. I know I did."
His eyes flash with something she doesn't understand. "That bit about how you can't stop thinking about me? Pretty sure you were talking to the firewhiskey."
His tone is teasing, but Lily hears the heaviness and while she'd thought that James would find some joy in hearing her confession, a sudden fear grips her heart. Perhaps she misunderstood everything: their banter, their conversations, their distracted touches. Their flirting. Perhaps he was never flirting back with her.
Shame floods her. Now she understands why he hasn't kissed her. Gods, how foolish did she act?
"Yeah, I drank too much," she agrees, voice dry, accepting his easy way out. "I will pay more attention next time."
He takes a second longer than necessary to answer her. "Already planning the next hangover, Evans? I am actually impressed."
She laughs, humourless as it is.
"One can never promise something they won't fulfill, Potter."
James looks at her, eyes searching for something in her face that Lily doesn't understand, before he takes a step back.
"You are right on that," he says, chagrinned, and with a nod from his head, he turns away from her.
She can’t help but feel as if she disappointed him somehow.
______
Lily picks up piece by piece what happened that night.
It's like solving a jigsaw puzzle. The borders she already has, all those pieces that remind her how loose she had felt with the first taste of firewhiskey, fuelled by a desire to do something daring.
James is there in those pieces, telling her to go easy even as he is already tipsy with his own shots of alcohol. It was his cautious caring warning that made her get her second taste, urging herself to just tell him how she felt.
By the third shot she called him for a dance, though they didn't dance as far as she remembers—the alcohol was enough for getting her the nerve to do it, not the ability. She remembers how they mostly tripped over each other, laughing and falling on a couch.
There is a gap between the fourth and the fifth shot, but she remembers that by the sixth shot they were together in a corner of the room, and staring at him, the words spilled out of her. The alcohol had acted as some kind of protection, a barrier against any fear, as Lily told James exactly what she had been feeling for him for a while now.
That's how far Lily has, so she collects the other pieces by hearing conversations, asking nonchalant questions to her friends, to his friends.
No one seems to know all the details, but from Mary she gathers how they slowly danced at some point that Lily attributes to the fourth or the fifth shot. Remus mentions watching James returning to their dorm very late in the night, grinning as if he had just won the Quidditch cup. Dorcas asks her if they are going out because she saw them holding hands at the end of the party. Sirius grumpily tells her she is a fool and refuses to say anything else.
Lily has a good picture by now, incomplete as it is. If her jigsaw puzzle was a painting of Hogwarts, she would have the lake and the forest already, but the castle, the center of the puzzle, it's still blank.
Then her dreams help her.
They don't make sense and at first Lily blames her imagination for just shaping everyone’s comment into what she wants. From Mary's comment, Lily dreams of her arms around James' neck, playing softly with his hair while he holds her waist, their feet moving together though they aren't really moving. Dreams aren't supposed to be this sensorial, but she swears she wakes up feeling his musky scent, the softness of the curls of his hair, as if he was there with her.
From Dorcas' tale, Lily dreams of steady hands, of feeling the callousness due to years of Quidditch practice, of a warmth that ran from his body to hers as they experimented holding hands, fingers intertwined together. He holds their joint hands, raises them and places a kiss at the back of her hand. Then he brings their hands over his heart; it’s beating fast, and it's because of her.
Neither Mary or Dorcas' tales were so colourful, so vivid, but Lily dreams of it and the edges of the castle are visible by then.
But no one tells her anything else and still Lily dreams more.
She thinks of hazel eyes shining with her confession, a hand touching her face, putting strands of her hair out of her face and leaving a trace of fire where he touches her.
She thinks of a sigh, hand falling back and a hopeless voice. You are just drunk, Evans, you don't mean that.
But she does, and she tells him and she makes a dangerous promise. He stares at her for some time, still unsure, but she knows there is only truth in her face. Then he believes in her, leans closer very slowly, still giving her plenty of time to draw back, to give up, to say she doesn’t want this.
Lily doesn’t remember much from that night, but she knows she wanted that kiss. She wanted him, long before she got her first taste of alcohol.
Her puzzle is almost complete, only two or three pieces missing that she can’t seem to place right. It feels as if she is assembling that puzzle in the dark, hoping the pieces will fit but unable to see the whole picture. She thinks of soft lips and warm hands, taste of firewhiskey and a musky smell, her name in a sigh, being held in place to keep from falling apart and she knows she would if not for him.
Her heart quickens when she realizes there is only one last piece missing, and a longing for something she should remember, but can’t, floods her.
A week after the first Quidditch match—a week during which, almost displicently, James avoids her—Lily seeks for him at last.
His friends are there in the Common Room, talking quietly to each other, but James isn’t in sight. She approaches them carefully; Remus and Peter nod at her, but Sirius frowns unhappily, giving her the same hard look he has thrown at her all week.
“Hey,” she calls, keeping her voice light. “Do you know where James is?”
“Why?” Sirius asks, crossing his arms and ignoring Remus’ nudge. “Decided to mess up with him a little more?”
Lily bites her lip. “No, the opposite.”
“Quite late for that—”
“He went for a fly,” Remus says, cutting Sirius. “You might find him in the Quidditch pitch.”
“Thanks,” says Lily, looking outside. The sun is setting. Then she glances back at Sirius. “I really want to fix this.”
“Then stay sober,” he says, and Lily flinches, but she supposes Sirius is right.
The walk to the Quidditch pitch is long, and her heart paces up with each step Lily takes. She knows what puzzle she is finishing by now, and she knows what piece she is missing, but despite her best efforts, she can't find it.
It bothers her a lot.
No wonder James is mad at her.
She doesn't see him flying in the Quidditch pitch and she is almost going back to the castle when she spots a lonely figure in the benches. She would recognize that messy hair anywhere, so she ventures the stairs to reach him.
James doesn’t turn to look at her, not even when the benches crack under her weight, doesn’t blink when she sits next to him and she wonders if he could recognize her from a distance as well.
“No more flying for today?” she asks, her voice light, eyeing the broomstick next to him.
He shrugs. “I didn’t actually fly. Thought about it, but then…” He grabs a bottle on his other side, lifts it in a mock salutation. “Drinking was better.”
And to prove his point, he takes a generous sip of the bottle.
“Getting drunk alone? That is just sad, Potter.”
There is a soft sight that could be scornful, but just sounds sad. “Tried getting drunk together. Didn’t work for me.”
She swallows dryly. “No, I guess not. I...I really messed that up, didn’t I?”
At this, James finally looks at her. His hazel eyes sweep over her face, in search of something that he doesn’t seem sure about, because he asks: “Did you remember after all?”
There is the faintest hope in his voice and Lily hates herself for being unable to give him the answer she wanted to have. “No.”
“Oh.” He runs his hand through his hair, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, his face shines with guilt and regret. “Look, Evans, there is something—”
“We kissed,” she cuts him off, nodding, knowing it even as her mind is unable to actually grasp that memory.
James tilts his head slightly to the side and Lily wonders if he did the same while they were kissing. She has been wondering a lot these days, hating that blank space in her mind that she wishes more than anything she could fill.
“We did,” he admits, but there is none of the particular happiness Lily would associate with it. James looks just miserable. “And I am really sorry about it, I didn’t want to take advantage of—”
“You didn’t,” she assures him, fidgeting with her hands, fighting back an urge to just hold his hands.
“You don’t even remember it, Lily.”
“I remember enough. I remember telling you how I felt.”
“That was the firewhiskey talking, not—”
“The firewhiskey gave me courage, not words. What I felt—what I feel—had nothing to do with how much I drank.”
He shakes his head stubbornly. “Still, I should have known better. I shouldn’t have—”
“There is only one thing I’m truly sorry, James. And that’s for promising you I would remember and then—”
“You didn’t.”
“I broke my word,” she agrees, sorrowful. “Can… can you forgive me for that?”
He blinks, staring at her for a long minute before grabbing the bottle next to him and reading the label. “Maybe there is some kind of insanity essence here.”
“What?”
“I can’t believe you’re saying you’re sorry for forgetting it, not for what we did. I spent this whole week feeling horrible for leading you—”
“Is it so hard to believe that I fancy you?”
His gaze strays back to her.
“It depends. What have you drunk today?”
Lily smiles softly. “I haven’t had a sip of alcohol today.” She hesitates a second before sliding on the bench, closer to him. “I can let you get close to check if you want.”
James almost smiles too. “I’ll trust your word.”
“James—” she touches his hand now, watching him carefully for any sign he is repelled by her, but she finds none. His eyes fall to her hand and he watches with fascination as her hand traces his fingers, climbs over his arm, reaches his neck. She touches his hair, sees him shuddering under her touch; his skin is warm with the alcohol. “I really like you. And I would very much like to kiss you again for the first time.”
He sighs, his smile tender now. Lily expects him to move even closer, to close that annoying breach between them, but instead all he does is hold her hand, leaning into it and closing his eyes, before he kisses softly her wrist, over her pulse. His lips are warm.
When he opens his eyes, James just shakes his head. “I’m seeing you double and while it’s actually very nice seeing two Lily Evans, I think I should go.”
“Sure,” she says, hoping to not betray her disappointment. He rises, swinging dangerously on the spot, and she takes a step closer. “Help?” she offers.
James nods, accepting when Lily places her arm around his waist, steadying him.
The walk back to the castle is silent, but Lily doesn’t think it’s heavy. For all his silence, James seems to be only thoughtful. They ignore everyone else’s look and because he doesn’t complain, she helps him get back all the way to his dorm, until he is sitting on his bed.
James holds her hand as she is turning to leave him alone. His eyes are burning, but if anything, he looks only resolute.
“Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?”
“Is this alcohol talking?” she asks teasingly. He grins.
“You know, alcohol gives courage, not—”
“Not words,” she finishes for him. “I’d love to go with you. With one condition.”
“I don’t throw up over you right now?”
Lily laughs. “That would be nice, yeah, but actually, I would reinforce a non-alcohol policy.”
“Only butterbeer,” he agrees, beaming. And then before she can say anything, he approaches her face, tugs strands of her hair behind her ear and places a kiss at her cheek, his lips barely touching the corner of hers.
For the warmth that spreads from where his lips touch her down her body, Lily feels drunk again.
“See you tomorrow, Evans,” says James, laying more comfortably against the pillow in his bed, lips curved into a hopeful smile.
“I’ll wait for you with a Hangover Potion,” she promises him, watching him fondly.
“And that’s why I love you,” he whispers, sighing, and he closes his eyes, falling into a quick sleep.
Courage, she thinks. Not words.
Hopefully he will remember this little declaration the next day.
#Jily#Sentence Starter Prompts#Jily Fanfiction#There are so many lovely fics with tipsy Lily#and James is all chivalrous#wanted to write one where things happen#but not in the traditional way#well let me know what you think
158 notes
·
View notes
Text
Just Some Guy
AYO im back with day 3! i got nothing else to say :)
Maribat Masterlist AO3 @maribat-bdbwm
Day 1 2
Word count: 1.5k words
Summary:
Marinette went to school hoping for a normal day.
Instead, she meets her father for the second time. Or perhaps, for the first time.
BD!Bruce Wayne Day 3- Identities
without further ado:
Marinette woke up in the morning with a bad feeling. Nothing was really wrong. She woke up before her alarm and she hadn’t tripped getting out of bed. She finished her homework the night before and hadn’t gotten into any fights all week. And yet, a weight sat in her stomach.
Her mother once said— when she was maybe three years old and landed on her feet when she fell out of a tree she wasn’t supposed to have been climbing— that as she grew up her affinity for the miraculous magic would cause these unfamiliar ‘sensations’ throughout her life. It was more precise than intuition but not nearly as sophisticated as precognition. Her teachers had said she was blessed by the ancestors as most guardians develop this skill only after years of training, not as a young toddler like herself. She knew to trust this feeling. Usually, she knew that this feeling meant something was going to hurt her; except, since living in Paris for a year, this feeling tended to mean that something was going to embarrass her at worst or mildly inconvenience her at best. She hoped it was the latter.
Nothing happened during her normal routine of getting ready and her papa had even made an extra nice breakfast for the family. The weather was perfect and everything seemed to be going right. So why did she have this feeling?
The walk to school was equally mundane and Marinette started to feel jittery. She hadn’t tripped on her way so that wasn’t what was going to go wrong either. Her class was a quiet sea of private conversations. Chloé wasn’t even doing anything beyond tapping on her phone. Though, she wasn’t usually as enthusiastic as she was now. Was that what was going to go wrong?
“Marinette!” her teacher had called. Madame Bustier was an eccentric woman, Marinette had learned. She was only their teacher for a few months but she was someone Marinette grew fond of rather quickly. “I’m glad you’re here early, can you do me a small favor?”
“Of course, Madame.” This was nothing out of place either, the feeling still weighed on her.
“I left some copies of some handouts in the staff room upstairs. Do you think you could fetch them for me?” Standing behind her desk, her posture straight and smile so bright, Marinette found no reason to say no. She agreed without hesitation.
The journey to and from the staff room was, again, uneventful and Marinette was just hoping that whatever Bad Thing that was supposed to happen to her would just occur. The fretting alone is enough to send her to an early grave. Checking on the time back in the class, it was only 8:20. She had the entire day left. Great.
The hours ticked by and it was then the lunch hour. Marinette’s nerves had calmed down in the meantime and she was fidgety for a different reason. Today was Friday and that meant her papa was in charge of her training. The thought alone was enough to lift her spirits. She couldn’t wait to see what he had in store today.
If only she could actually make it back to the bakery. Before anyone could actually leave the class, Chloé commanded the attention of everyone, including Madame Bustier, because she had a ‘special announcement.’
The bad feeling had immediately returned and Marinette felt a chill. This was it. This was what her senses had been preparing her for all day. She looked at Chloé and the curl of her lips, pale lip gloss shining as bright as ever, made a pit open in Marinette’s stomach. She had her undivided attention, hanging off of whatever words she was about to say next.
“A very important guest is in Paris and daddy has agreed that we all get to meet him. Bruce Wayne is coming here today! He’s staying at our hotel—of course— and he agreed to come to the school after lunch to speak to us about business and other boring stuff. All because of me. No need to thank me.” her little speech was decorated with self-congratulatory hair flips and pats on her own shoulder. None of it mattered to Marinette, however. Her brain was too busy rebooting. All her trepidation and egg-shell walking… for this? For this person? He was clearly important if not for Chloé saying as such then for the background chatter of her classmates but it all meant nothing to Marinette. Because…
Because…
Who the heck was Bruce Wayne?
Why would some old businessman want to speak to a bunch of twelve year olds? Well, he was staying at the mayor’s hotel, he probably didn’t have much of a say in the matter. Whatever the mayor’s precious daughter wants she gets. Too bad this man got dragged along for the whole ordeal. But that doesn’t explain why this was what set off her nerves. What could possibly happen in meeting this guy? Marinette could only wait until after the lunch hour to figure out.
Her excitement for her papa’s training was overshadowed by her dread. She could barely focus, distracted by her own hyper-aware senses. The trek back to school was slow, Marinette tried to prolong the inevitable for as long as possible, but she was facing her classroom door too quickly for her tastes. The chatter of her classmates beyond the door, Madame Bustier trying to control the noise, and a deep chuckle that cut through the cacophony, did nothing but make Marinette wish to be able to turn back and run home.
Could she call in sick?
Run away only to return on Monday?
No, a voice rang, her father’s voice, in her head. The only way out is through. Those were his words and Marinette wasn’t going to chicken out on meeting some stranger just because her gut feeling was warning her about something. Whatever it was, she’ll face head-on. She’s the daughter of freaking Batman after all.
She took a deep breath, mind made up, and opened the door with more bravado than she actually had.
Too bad she overestimated how much force she actually needed and accidentally slammed the door open. What was once a rowdy classroom was now a silent audience, peering as Marinette made a rather grand entrance. The tall figure standing next to Madame Bustier had the most unnerving gaze. She was transfixed. Mesmerized. She stared at the visitor, tall and broad, with swept back hair and a pair of baby blue eyes. She knew that face. She knew those eyes!
There were only two times she saw eyes that blue; in her own reflection and in the face of her father. Who was Batman. But… also this Bruce Wayne guy? What?
That’s not right. She would have known if her father was in the city and she most definitely would have known if her father was some guy named Bruce Wayne. Right?
At least her bad feeling was gone.
But why was he here? And why was he still staring at her?
“Going to become part of the decoration, Dupain-Cheng?” Chloé’s snark cut into the silence and called her attention away from her maskless father. That was when she noticed that she was still standing in the doorway. With everyone still staring at her.
She scurried to the back of the classroom to her seat in record speed, not meeting anyone’s eye, ignoring any snickering directed at her.
“Well, class now that everyone is here,” Marinette cheeks felt warm at her teacher’s comment, “Allow me to introduce you all to Mr. Bruce Wayne, owner and CEO of Wayne Enterprises.”
Oh, her father was someone rich then.
“Thank you, Madame. I will admit I was surprised that the mayor personally asked me to be here on such short notice but,” that was her father’s voice but it was the gruff tones she had heard when they met. This was airy, and approachable. “But seeing all of you here today, definitely made it worth it.”
It was so weird.
Marinette didn’t pay attention to anything he said during his visit, and after he left, with an indecipherable, lingering look in her direction, she felt like she could breathe again for the first time in forever. Watching the stone cold Batman prance around, engaging with children, was bizarre. She felt like she was watching another person, and she almost thought he was but she knew that face. She’s seen it before, the night they first met, and those eyes, so much like her own, so she knows that this man is her father. No matter how… cheery he acted. But it was over and Marinette’s day could finally go back to normal.
Putting the whole ordeal behind her, her anxieties quelled and the bad feeling having passed, Marinette was left with one question however.
If Batman is Bruce Wayne, then who the heck are his children?
#mbdbwm2021#maribat#maribat!biodadbrucewayne2021#maribat!biodadbrucewaynemonth2021#maribat events#monthly events#marinette thinks her dad's name is Batman#bruce wayne is just some guy#¯\_(ツ)_/¯
95 notes
·
View notes
Note
kennnnaaaaa i want alllll bahahah BUT we'll do these for now as well.
2. What do strangers notice about them first?
3. How does their social personality differ from how they act when they’re alone?
6. What do they smell like?
8. How much jewelry do they wear, and do they have a favorite or distinguishing piece?
9. Do they have a word or phrase that they tend to overuse?
10. What is a weird quality that they have (ie their hands are always cold, they’re always hungry, they snort when they laugh, etc)?
Ahh I love you so much. I really had to think through these.
2. What do strangers notice about them first?
Her hair. Her hair is bright red and it’s hard to miss. She doesn’t blend in very well.
3. How does their social personality differ from how they act when they’re alone?
Kurono uses humor and bravado as a coping mechanism. Most of the people in her life that she loves ends up dying and she goes through a lot in the Akatsuki. She has PTSD from experimentations that Orochimaru did and she can’t sleep because of the small amount of Shukaku living inside of her. When she’s alone she’s usually contemplating everything that has happened to her and trying to figure out what she has to live for.
When she’s around other people she constantly cracks jokes, flirts, and fakes confidence, especially if it’s someone she has feelings for. She blames herself a lot for the deaths she’s caused or she hasn’t prevented and thinks poorly of her own standing. She thinks the world of her loved ones and thinks they deserve better than her, but she’s also super attached to them and doesn’t want them to think that so it takes a lot for her to even admit to her failings to them.
6. What do they smell like?
When she’s living in Amegakure, her scent is heavily masked by the rain. It’s not until she’s on missions or leaves the village that people can actually figure out her scent. She smells like paper mixed with white amber. Once she discovered perfumes on a mission when she was a teen, she became obsessed with buying them. She sticks to muskier scents rather than fruity.
8. How much jewelry do they wear, and do they have a favorite or distinguishing piece?
She’s Nagato’s sister so she grew up next to covered-in-piercings Pain and Konan. She has an industrial piercing in her right ear. Triple upper helix in her left that she wears spike earrings in. Two took piercings in her right. A daith piercing in her left. And two lobe piercings.
She’s given Orochimaru’s old Akastuki ring when she officially joins. She wears it on her left little finger: "sky", "void" (空, kū). Its colour is slate blue.
Her seventeenth birthday occurred during the chunin exams in the month between the preliminaries and finals. She spent the morning by herself since her teammate Mamorou was in the infirmary and Daiki was by his side. When she was at lunch, she ran into Kankuro, who when finding out it was her birthday spent the rest of the day with her. He ended up buying her some teardrop, purple (same shade as his war paint) dangle earrings and she immediately changed her studs out for them.
During the time between Naruto and Shippuden, she goes out looking for a medallion that is said to keep Shukaku at bay inside of the wearer. She runs into Masa, Gaara, Kankuro, and Temari there and after a long turn of events that I’m sure will end up being written one day and shared with everyone, Gaara gives her the medallion because he knows she has even less control of the small amount of Shukaku sealed inside of her than he does of the larger portion sealed inside of him. The medallion is crafted to look just like Shukaku’s eyes and is on a silver chain. She keeps it hidden behind whatever shirt she is wearing though.
Right before Itachi leaves to fight Sasuke, he gives her a ring that matches his necklace.
Kankuro tends to give her jewelry whenever he sees it and it reminds him of her.
Not really jewelry but she does wear a white paper rose in her hair that Konan made her when she was younger. She first started wearing it when she five years old and then stopped wearing it when she was officially named an Akastuki member (after the chunin exams). She started wearing it again when she finds out that Konan was killed.
Her favorites are the paper rose, Itachi’s ring, and the purple teardrop earrings from Kankuro.
9. Do they have a word or phrase that they tend to overuse?
Shukaku taught her some vulgar language and she grew up with S-rank criminals. Fuck is a very common word for her to use.
Before she leaves the Akatsuki she says things like “Pain is the way to bring peace” and “they need to feel the pain that we have felt.”
She also often says “Oi” to get someone’s attention.
10. What is a weird quality that they have (ie their hands are always cold, they’re always hungry, they snort when they laugh, etc)?
She’s always tired because of Shukaku not letting her sleep without taking over. She digs her nails into her palms to keep her calm or to keep herself awake which has left her with Crescent shaped scars on her palms. When she laughs, I mean really laughs, her entire body shakes.
#naruto fanfiction#naruto oc#kurono uzumaki#Kurono#the ranting fangirl#the ranting fangirl oc#the ranting fangirl answers
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fandom: Inuyasha Genre: Romance/Humor/Fluff Pairing: InuKag Rating: T
Originally written for @inukag-week on tumblr circa 2016, now officially being updated. Its been a hot minute, hasn't it?
For InuKag Week - Day 2: Warmth
Part 1 l
Part 2 Word Count: 2,600
Can also be found on FFN and AO3.
.
.
.
Kagome couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so hard.
Sometime between the moment she met the arrogant, rude man known as Inuyasha and the three shots she had consumed, they had fallen into a flirtatious banter that she rather enjoyed. Gone was the pompous jerk who had so rudely called her audacious names, replaced by a man who proved to actually be decent company.
No, she hadn't forgotten about their initial meeting, but as she downed another shot of whiskey, she realized she didn't much care. For the first time in months - maybe longer - Kagome found herself enjoying her evening. With her shackles removed and her inhibitions lowered, she relished in the sweet taste of freedom that had been sorely lacking from her life.
"You did not!" she squealed with absurdity in her tone, clamping a hand over her mouth.
Inuyasha chuckled, tilting his glass and giving a half-shrug. "I did," he confessed sheepishly, but not at all ashamed of his actions. "Miroku ran down the dorm hall, completely naked, screaming after me."
Kagome shook her head. "I can honestly say I have never stolen my roommates clothes while they were in the shower. Or pulled any pranks on them, really."
"To be fair," he continued, signaling the bartender for another round. "He actually met his girlfriend that way."
"By running naked down the hallway?"
He nodded. "Knocked her down and stopped to apologize."
"Still want to leave the tab open?" Kouga interrupted.
"Yeah, that's fine." Inuyasha finished off his beer. "Another round of whiskey shots while you're at it."
Flashing Kagome a smile, Kouga took their empty glasses. "You're going to dry me out."
"It's still early," Kagome barbed playfully. "Your bar will last until midnight at the very least."
He chuckled, filling up their shot glasses and handing them another drink. "Oh, thanks. I was afraid I'd have to close up soon."
Leaving with a, "flag me down if you need me," Kouga wandered to the other end of the bar where a busty blonde waved at him.
Typical, Kagome thought sourly. On the one hand, she didn't like the way her thoughts were turning, considering she didn't really know Kouga, and hated grouping him in with the rest of the spineless male population she had become accustomed to - especially since he was a bartender and it was literally his job to tend to the needs of his customers. But on the other hand, she couldn't help but feel bitter about his attention leaving her. Maybe it was because she had so blatantly been deprived of it for so long, that her longing for companionship had been exacerbated ten-fold.
Taking a sip of beer - which she had switched to once they started doing shots - Kagome heard her phone buzz in her purse again; it had already gone off several times during her conversation with Inuyasha. She finally pulled it out and unlocked it, frowning at the array of messages popping up on her screen.
Inuyasha raised a brow at the irritable look that overcame her expression before Kagome sighed and locked her phone. She quickly downed her shot of whiskey, not even bothering to 'cheers' him.
"Everything okay?" Inuyasha questioned, against his better judgement. There was a reason people showed up by themselves at a bar on Friday nights - either to drown their sorrows in whiskey or to find company for a few fleeting, midnight hours.
Kagome pressed her lips together. She didn't come to the bar to talk about her problems. She wasn't some sad case that needed a therapist to pour her drinks. If anything, she wanted to forget about the emotional damage that had been inflicted earlier that day. Her heart had been broken, her ego bruised, and no matter how many times her friends had told her he wasn't worth it, their sympathies didn't make her feel any better.
But, alcohol had a funny habit of turning into truth serum, and she found herself spilling her guts before she could stop herself. "Just my ex-boyfriend - er, fiance - blowing up my phone."
Inuyasha chuckled. "Can't take a hint, huh?"
Kagome shrugged with a bitter smile. "I mean, he broke off the engagement. Not sure why he can't follow through with his decision."
She had expected sympathy, perhaps even empathy. That's what most people offered in a situation like this, when they didn't know what to say or how to react. But Kagome was caught off-guard by Inuyasha's next question.
"How long were you together?"
Kagome eyed him curiously, his honey gaze hiding a wealth of understanding. "Five years," she answered him, twirling a strand of her dark hair around her finger. "Planned our life together, put a ring on it, and even booked the venue. But… I suppose he got cold feet a long time ago."
"His loss. What kind of bastard would put someone through that?"
She hummed thoughtfully, but didn't answer. It wasn't in her best interest to start talking about the past now, and she would rather take the spotlight off of herself all together. "What about you?" she asked her barstool companion as she took another sip of beer. "Any lucky ladies in your life?"
Inuyasha chuckled mirthlessly. "Nah, not anymore."
Kagome arched a brow. "Dare I ask?"
"Not much to tell. Her career and ambitions drove a wedge between us, and she decided they were more important than me. Simple as that."
"Sounds high maintenance."
He grinned. "Something like that. I mean, she knew what she wanted and didn't care what stood in her way. Even me."
Kagome felt an ache beneath her breast for the man beside her. She knew the pain of rejection very well. "Put out in the rain just like a dog. Doesn't that bother you?" she asked, tilting her head.
He frowned at her choice of words, and Kagome knew she may have touched a nerve then, but the alcohol had stripped her of her filter apparently.
"Well, I guess we're all damaged somehow," he replied with a shrug.
She scrunched her nose. "That's a bit thoughtless."
"What can I say? Shit happens. Get over it."
And then Kagome suddenly remembered the arrogant, rude, condescending jerk she had met when she had sat down at the bar earlier in the night. She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you such an ass?"
Inuyasha smirked while bringing his beer to his lips. "You are what you eat?"
Kagome let loose a growl of frustration. She had only known him for a short time, but she had quickly learned that Inuyasha was the most infuriating human being on the planet! "Your immaturity is revolting," she stated matter-of-factly, waving down Kouga for another shot of whiskey. She was definitely not drunk enough to deal with the way the conversation had turned.
"I'm not known for my friendly disposition."
Kagome glared at the man sitting next to her. "Is it fun being a jerk to me? Does it satisfy you?"
Inuyasha chuckled. "Actually, it is pretty entertaining."
She rolled her eyes. "You know, Inuyasha. You can hide behind that fake bravado all you want, but I know you're just a big softie underneath."
"Keh," he grumbled, finishing off his beer.
Kagome threw him a glare. "What? No witty repartee?"
He set down his empty glass with a little more force than usual, grabbing Kagome's attention. "I know your type, wench," he snapped, his amber eyes boring into hers. "I know exactly the kind of person you are; all high and mighty, acting as if you're better than everyone else. You think you can show someone how great life can be and how fantastic it is if I would just try. Well, sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but not everyone is worth saving, all right?"
His words left Kagome stunned into silence for a brief moment. How did their witty banter only a few minutes ago turn into this? This… This denied anger and unadulterated cynicism had Kagome reeling, her thoughts turning to what exactly had penetrated Inuyasha's life so completely that he had such a negative outlook on such.
She pursed her lips. "How much do you think you're worth?"
Inuyasha shrugged. "Like twenty bucks. Or two twinkies." He grinned at his own comment, but Kagome didn't find it very funny.
If anything, Kagome felt pity for him. No matter how bleak her life became, she always managed to find the good in it. If a person couldn't do that… Well, that was a pretty sad way to live. "As much as I would love to hear you divulge all of your secrets, this is a great song and I feel like dancing."
"Look, wench," Inuyasha barked out, his anger palpable. "I'm not looking for your validation. I'm pretty fucking happy with my life of dirty pennies and whiskey bottles. We don't all need to be Barbie."
She looked over at him, the low dim of the bar lights shining off his silver hair, and found she could only nurse one wounded heart at a time. "I just wanted you to leave tonight and think the world is a little less horrible than you thought."
"Hey, pretty lady," Kouga greeted as he appeared at the perfect time with another shot of whiskey for her and a full beer, stealing her full attention away from Inuyasha.
Kagome immediately downed the shot and chased it with her beer, ready to forget half of the night and lose herself in the music pounding through the speakers. As the evening wore on, the bar became busier, and the DJ had started up a round of tunes that had half the customers on the dance floor.
Kouga watched her curiously, arching a brow. "You alright there?"
"Dance with me?" she called over the bass pounding through the speakers. Oh yes, it was now the time of the night in which she had no qualms for asking for what she wanted.
He chuckled and glanced over at the other bartenders who appeared to have things under control. "You can steal me for a few minutes."
Kagome grinned and giggled like a school girl, leaving Inuyasha behind without delay. Kouga met her at the end of the bar and took her hand in his as she pulled him out onto the dance floor.
Some upbeat dance music blasted through the speakers. Kagome moved and swayed through the bodies crowding near the DJ, the vibrations of the music becoming part of her energy, raising her up several levels at once. Gone were her heartbroken wallows and the biting arrogance of her barstool companion. Her mind buzzed with pure joy. She moved in her dress like her hips were made to sway, the black sequins catching the disco ball that twirled above, causing her to glitter on the dance floor.
Kouga pulled her close, his strong hand pressed against the small of her back, his chiseled chest pressed against hers. She ran her fingers through her messy hair and pulled it to the side, feeling the beat of the music pound with each beat of her heart. Bodies pressed in tighter all around them. Kagome felt the part of her that was really her come out to play, to feel the vibe of the music and let her body go free.
"You're beautiful," Kouga's voice whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine.
His lips looked soft and very kissable, and Kagome knew her decision-making skills were indeed hindered by the alcohol that buzzed through her veins. And then his attention was caught by something else, his royal blue eyes pulling from hers to the outskirts of the dance floor. He said something to her, attempting to shout above the music, but his words were swallowed up by the electric beat that kept her entranced.
Kagome felt his hands slip from around her waist and he disappeared into the crowd. She didn't bother to follow, her hands playing with her hair, her hips moving to the music as she lost herself within it. This was what her heartbroken soul had fiercely needed; a night to forget all the troubles of the day.
Large, meaty hands found her waist, but they were unfamiliar and too warm to the touch. Kagome felt a warm flush find her cheeks as she gazed up to meet a stranger's hazy stare. He pulled her in close - too close - and even in her alcohol-ridden mind, she felt mild panic begin like sparks in her abdomen.
She tried to push him away, first gently and then forcefully, pretending to laugh at his behavior. "Thanks for the dance, but I need some fresh air."
"C'me on, baby," he slurred, pulling her tighter to his sweaty frame, his hot breath rolling over her skin. "We just met. Let's dance s'me more."
Kagome frowned. "I said no." Before she could stomp on his foot and fight her way out of the throng of dancers, the man was forcefully pulled away from her. They became separated by another man, one with very familiar silver hair who had his back to her. She didn't hear the words exchanged, but whatever was said was enough to send the man scampering off to the other side of the bar.
Inuyasha turned around, his piercing honey eyes studying her expression, before his hand gently wrapped around her waist. His grip on her wasn't strong like Kouga's, or possessive like the stranger. Inuyasha's hand was warm against the small of her back, and the anxiety she felt moments ago melted away.
"You okay?" he asked, swaying his hips in tune with hers as they continued to dance to the beat of the music.
She grinned up at him. "Were you worried about me, jerk?"
"Keh," he grumbled, his lips pulling into a smirk. "I despise you more than any other human I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. You're loud and wild and apparently have no sense of self-preservation. You also act like you have the mental capacity of a five year old."
"Are you flirting with me?" she barbed in return.
"Maybe."
His hand found the back of her neck, his fingers finding purchase in her hair, his hips grinding against hers. Warmth pooled into the pit of her stomach, his breath caressing her skin, and she moved her lips to find his.
Kagome barely had a moment to react before he pressed his tongue to the seam of her lips and delved inside her mouth. It was a very sloppy kiss with the strong scent of beer being exchanged between their billowing breaths. Her arm reached up and tangled around his strong neck. She pulled away and arched up into his broad chest, letting a moan escape in the contact of body heat against her own, before she drew back into his lips.
She could nearly taste the slight bitterness of the beer as it rolled off her tongue and seeped down her throat with every push of his tongue against hers. The kiss coupled with the beer and whiskey humming through her system obliterated every thought. For the first time that day, her mind was locked into the present. Her usual concerns for her life were suspended, and she had no wish for the kiss to end.
But as the music changed, they pulled apart. Inuyasha's skin shimmered with sweat and his amber eyes flecked with gold held her gaze. The beat of the music consumed them under the crazy neon lights, and Kagome felt alive during a night that was still so young.
#inuyasha#kagome#inukag#fanfiction#inuyasha fanfiction#inukag-week#sassy stays classy#my fanfiction#double shot of heaven
67 notes
·
View notes