#I don’t have the energy to make fanart but needed to put my thoughts down immediately | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

recurring-polynya · 2 years ago

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Hello polynya! Hope you don’t mind but I’d like to ask you about your writing process. You’re really one of the best fic writers I’ve seen so I’d like to pick your brain a little. :) How long do you spend outlining something before writing it down? What do you do when you get stuck on something? How do you make sure you’re getting characters right? I’m very concerned about that last one since I haven’t seen Bleach in years and if I ever started writing something, I’m worried I’d make everyone OOC.

Hi! Sorry for delay on this. I wanted to take the time to write out a nice and thoughtful answer and then I got swamped by stuff. I really do like sharing writing advice, though, so thank you for asking!

Just gonna do a little cut for length:

How long do you spend outlining something before writing it down? So, I want to start with the caveat that I hate outlining. I am very much that dog-with-a-frisbee meme, only it's "No decide what happens! Only write!" I think that, in general, it's best to do as much outlining as you can stand at the beginning of a project, but there is a minimum amount that I force myself to do, but what that minimum is will depend on the fanfic I am trying to write.

Sometimes a fanfic will spring into my head, fully formed, beginning to middle to end. Just go for it. No outline. Fuck it, we ball. Generally, this is going to be a shorter fanfic, like <10k, but I ran all of Portions for Foxes with no net. There is like the Touch of God, though, there is no way to guarantee this process.

Usually, with the stories in my Heart is a Muscle series, I declare that I am Writing This Thing, and it has a broad concept and, like, 5 scenes I really want to write. In this case, I will make an iterative outline. I really, really didn't feel like outlining the one I am working on now, and for a significant amount of time, my "Ductwork Notes" documents just said: "Outline: lol". However, as I actually started to work on it, and completed some scenes, I put them in the outline. Also, any time I thought of a scene I wanted to do, or a scene I would need to do, I added it to the outline. At some point, I was able to feel my way around the shape of the thing. It takes place over ~2 weeks, and I wrote out when the big events happened, which made it more obvious where and what I needed to add. I just continue to refine and add detail. I'm maybe 10 or 15% of my way into this thing (by progress, not by word count). As I go, I continue to update the outline. Eventually, I will break it into chapters, with word count. Going back and forth between the zoomed-way-in activity of writing and the big picture exercise of thinking about my story as a whole is the best way for me to work (it's also the way I code, swapping back and forth between writing and testing individual functions with how they fit into the overall software framework.) I feel like this is not a thing that would work for everyone, but it works for me.

Plot bunnies. We all get them. I generally do not get gripped by them, the way some people do, but every so often, I have a bit of a wild idea (often an AU), where I get excited over an idea, and I need to decide how much energy I am willing to devote to it. In this case, an outline is a tool for that. The thing that separates a plot bunny, imo, from a "fic idea" is that plot bunnies are usually open ended hooks: What if so-and-so died? Oh, I love this splash page where they're all in a band. That's not a story, it's just a concept. So, if I am considering making a story, I force myself to make an outline. It must have a beginning, middle and end. It must contain a number of Big Scenes I am excited about writing and that I think people will be excited about reading. Sometimes, this process very clearly informs me that this is not a story that I want to take the time to write, and that maybe I'd rather just do a fanart or write a 1k throwaway scene or maybe just make a Tumblr post about. But if the process of making the outline isn't a huge turnoff, well, now I've got an outline, which is a significant part of the work done, and I can feel free to go for it.

What do you do when you get stuck on something?

If I am stuck on a specific thing, the best thing for me is to go do a chore that requires my hands and leaves my brain free. Washing dishes, folding laundry, weeding, are all excellent candidates for this. It can be enormously frustrating to get stuck, because I am very impatient, so I have a litany of things I tell myself at these times, like "this is what writing is. just let your brain chew on it." I often try to let my brain run down little possibilities, even when I know they won't work, just to see where they lead. I try to remind myself to have fun and enjoy the process.

If I am stuck in the sense that I have writer's block or just generally don't feel like writing, I try to do other things. If I catch up on my ao3 comments and my volunteer job, then, when the inspiration comes back, I'll have a clear schedule. I believe that there are cycles of writing, where sometimes you are in creative mode, but sometimes you are in rest mode, and sometimes you are ingest mode, so it's good to go read a book or watch a new show. It's also cool to go revisit the source material.

How do you make sure you’re getting characters right? I’m very concerned about that last one since I haven’t seen Bleach in years and if I ever started writing something, I’m worried I’d make everyone OOC.

I mean, why not do a rewatch, or even better, read the manga? You don't have to go through the whole thing, just the parts relevant to the story you are trying to tell, or the character you are trying to get write. I do this all the time, even though I already have a pretty encyclopedic knowledge of the parts of Bleach I care about. The Bleach wiki is very helpful for figuring out what happened in particular episodes.

I think this ties back to the previous questions, but a big part of writing is that you have to sit with your writing in your head and figure out what you are doing and why and if you are accomplishing that. There are different ways of doing this that you may find you enjoy more or less. I don't like outlining, but I do like looking up little bits of canon and overanalyzing minor details and making esoteric Tumblr posts about them.

Once you are actually writing, I try to have a very clear idea for my major players of:

What is their tendency?

What is their goal?

Their tendency is what they do naturally, how they act when they aren't thinking about it. Usually, you are shooting for your character to have some growth or change, and that's what I mean by goal. How do they act when they are being intentional? Then, in any writing situation, you can decide, "are they being natural or are they being intentional?" and decide their actions based on that. I think the most basic conflict you can write about is the tension between who someone is and who they would like to be!

A very basic example of this is that Renji is usually a pretty casual guy. He uses informal speech and probably jokes around with his subordinates. On the other hand, when Byakuya's around, he straightens his spine and puts on his best officer voice, because he wants to impress his boss.

This is going to vary based on the story you want to tell. The "tendency" category is also going to include what your characters do when they are scared or angry or other circumstances where things move from "unthinking" into "involuntary." A nice thing about this is that if you write one million stories about the same characters, you can really show their growth over time.

I hate YouTube analysis videos, but I watched one that really rewired my brain, about how, in a panic situation, Renji freezes up and Rukia runs. Hihiou Zabimaru, as an incomplete bankai, often acts a protective wall around Renji, allowing him to act while standing still. Conversely, So-oh Zabimaru is a close-combat bankai and prominently features a grabby arm. Rukia's bankai, on the other hand, is all about standing her ground (and forcing everyone else to, too). And on one hand, this is a powers analysis, but I use this as a touchstone a lot when I write about their conflict resolution styles at various stages of their maturity.

Here's a bit of advice that may be controversial, but I am going to say it: I think that even if you prefer AUs (and I mean, like, coffee shop AUs, not twist-on-canon AUs) you should write canon-compliant fic once in a while, even just as an exercise. You don't have to show it to anyone, it doesn't need to be a complete story. You can even just take a canon scene and try to write it from the POV of one of your characters. I just people really underestimate the amount of character work it takes to write a good AU. It's super hard to keep the characters feeling correct when you've taken away all the character beats that have informed them as people! In fact, I think it's good for any writer to try out different kinds of writing once in a while, even kinds you think you won't like. It really builds your writerly muscles and forces your to think about things in new and potentially mind-blowing ways.

Anyway, I hope that was helpful! I hope you do give writing a shot and I wish you the best of luck!

#writing advice

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matan4il · 3 years ago

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Fandom and disabilities

For a while now, I’ve been thinking I might talk about how socially isolating it has at times felt for me, being disabled on Tumblr.

So let me start by saying I have both physical issues, as well as anxiety and depression. And one of the nastiest things about them is how they interact. One physical issue can lead to another (a recent example, living with constant dizziness can cause one to fall and hit their face against the edge of the bathtub, which leads to even more problems), and then the mental health issues can drain a person from having the energy to do some of the things that might help a bit with the physical issues, while the physical problems in turn make things like the depression worse, in part because it IS depressing when your body is causing you so much suffering, and in part because one’s social world gets narrowed down when meeting with friends becomes so taxing. And when these problems are chronic, this is a cycle that there’s no breaking out of, just trying to live with it as best as possible.

You’d think fandom would be sort of a solution to this, right? ‘Coz fandom is like pocket friends that you don’t need to physically move around to meet. But I find that I’m constantly reminded of how limiting having disabilities is online, too. Yes, I don’t have to physically go anywhere to meet with online friends, but I still have to deal with stuff like constant dizziness and pains and fatigue in order to simply sit up by a computer and talk to people here. It still takes so much out of me, and yet because interacting online is generally seen as effortless, it feels like I’m still failing my friends, maybe to an even greater degree...

To give one example of something that seems simple, but isn’t to me: I see ask games and I wanna be a part of them, but I also know that in the past, when I did participate, it exhausted me. Those games DID make me happy! To send out asks with loving messages for my friends, to see my lovelies react with joy? It was amazing, I loved it so much! But it was also draining. At the same time, to not get those asks because I can’t send them back, to not be tagged in Tumblr games, it is disheartening and makes me feel like I’m on the outside looking in, knowing that even if people understand why I can’t play along, there’s no getting around it: when you interact with people more, you get closer to them. If you don’t, then...

Or how about content creation? It takes so much out of me (especially as I try to keep my medical appointments, which takes a lot out of me, as well as work, not to mention the occasional unavoidable adulting), but I’m still happy to do it! That’s kinda how I met most of my fandom friends, through content that somehow got us talking. But then, I know most creators on Tumblr have usertags to help them get their creations out there. That it’s also a part of how mutuals keep in touch and show each other support. But me, usertags give me anxiety. IDEK why, but they do. And I thought of maybe starting a tag list, but I know that I don’t always get notified when I’m tagged in a post. I was recently reminded of that because of an amazing person, who created this gorgeous fanart based on one of my fics. I was tagged in the post, but I didn’t get a notification about it. A mutual reblogged the post, and I happened to be around when the (queued) reblog got posted, so it was by chance that I saw it. Which means I’m not that sure a tag list is the solution either.

But then, let’s talk about reblogging other people’s creations! I used to reblog as well as tag other people’s creations, because I felt like this would be a nice way to show others support. And then mid 2021, stuff got so much worse for me. But I didn’t feel like I could just stop adding nice tags, what if people saw that those were gone, when just a few days before, when I was reblogging someone else, I was being complimentary? I hated the thought people might be offended. So at first I tried to go on putting time and effort into adding tags anyway. Then I saw I couldn’t, so I tried to at least leave one nice tag on each post. But as things kept getting worse, I finally came to the conclusion, I had to stop. At that point, simply making sure my queue would be full and I could step away from Tumblr for a long period of time without feeling like I completely stopped supporting other creators, that would have to do. I returned to Tumblr several months later, but I was still not doing that great. So I never got back to leaving complimentary tags on people’s posts, which I’m sad about. I really want to, not to mention, at the end of the day, the tags are one of the ways fandom communicates on Tumblr, not just with the creators, but I also remember some comments I left in the tags would open up interesting and fun dialogues...

Then there’s how little time I can spend online talking to fandom friends compared to what seems to be the average, seeing what’s new in the fandom, seeing other people’s posts and creations, as well as being caught up in whatever the recent big news is in fandom. Not having as much of all of these things can leave me with a sense of being left out.

Then there’s just this general fear of disappointing people and losing friendships without even knowing the exact reason why. Are people speaking to me less ‘coz I’m not able to reply as much and as often? Is it because they’re disappointed in me ‘coz they don’t feel I give back as much as I’m given? Is it ‘coz when I’m not around, they naturally talk to others way more, so their other connections become much stronger? Do they not understand some of my disabilities, how they limit me, and think I could be doing more and are upset with me over it, so they just pull away? Or is it maybe something else entirely, but it gets lost in the sea of possible reasons that are prominent in my mind? IDK. I can just say that it’s always disheartening, to feel like you’ve lost someone who, if you were just healthier, you believe you could have continued a beautiful friendship with.

So why am I writing this? I’m not even sure. I can’t say, “I wanted people to be aware of what it’s like for people with disabilities in fandom,” because that refers to a huge group of people, with a huge and diverse range of experiences regarding what they’re dealing with and how it shapes their online experiences, what’s difficult for them, what might help them... I guess I just wanted to speak about my sense of how my disabilities affect my online social experiences in fandom because I’ve never seen any other post addressing this specific aspect of being disabled in online fandoms. So maybe this would resonate with some people. Or maybe, for my friends, this would just... be something to know. Know that I love you and support you and would talk to you so much more often if I could. Know that it means the world to me when you reblog something and add nice stuff in the tags, ‘coz even if I can’t reply, it feels like a line of communication that remains open against all odds and through which you make me so happy whenever you generously allow me to feel like I have something to offer and contribute despite my many challenges, know that when you tag me in a Tumblr game, or send me an ask game, it means a lot even during those times when I want but can’t respond. If I am somehow failing you, please believe that it’s in spite of my best efforts, not because I don’t care. And maybe talk to me about how you’re feeling? Maybe we can figure out something so you don’t feel that way. Maybe we won’t be able to, but at least we’d both know we care and that matters, too. Yeah, maybe that’s the most important part, just know I love you, I treasure you, and I’m doing my best. xoxox

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cdmagic1408 · 3 years ago

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Quest Masters! (and fair warning this is going to be a long one lol)

as of right now at this date and time…

it has officially been ONE YEAR since I joined the ✨Onward✨ fandom! 🤯

I am just shocked beyond words at how fast the time has gone by…

seriously I feel like it was just yesterday I was sitting on my bed, reading over my first announcement post for If You Trust Me again and again on my laptop, making sure what was on it was exactly what I wanted to say, and then nervicitedly—nervous and excited—clicking on that post button at exactly 3:00pm (cause perfectionist autistic me thought it was best to share at an on-the-hour time lol) 😌💭

I have to say I feel like what I remember most about that day was my nervicitedness…I had worked so hard on IYTM and was so proud of it, but it was also my very first fanfic and really, the very first piece of writing I had ever shared with the whole entire world! I really wanted to advertise it the right way (you know…with facts, knowledge, tags, and language only Quest Masters could understand, lol)

I had been an Onward fan since day one, but I was coming out about it a year and a half late. So I really wasn’t sure if you guys would believe me if I said: “I love Onward, its lore, and Ian and Barley as much as you do!” ✨

I went into it thinking I had prove myself with all these silly “what ifs” floating around in my head….but as it turned out, I really had nothing to fear!

I didn’t have to come into this fandom with something big and important to show. And I didn’t even need to wait for a special day where I thought I could have everyone’s attention to share something. That day being Barley’s birthday, of course…today

Really, as long as I loved the movie and Ian and Barley, that was all I needed. But this isn’t to say I wish I could’ve joined the fandom sooner. Back then—back when it first came out—I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t sure if Onward was going to stay with me for as long as it has. But writing IYTM, buying the merchandise, how much I relate to this movie more than any other Pixar movie to date, wanting more from this world—in time it became clear to me that this beautiful, inspiring, magical film was never going to leave my brain 😅

And in the end, I did have an absolutely epic novel to share with you all that I was just dying to let someone ANYONE who loved this film as much as I did read, and Holy Tooth of Zadar…read it you all did! Your excitement for its release, the release of every chapter, and anything else I had to share brought my nervicited energy down to just excited…and something I kept secret for 18 months was finally out! it really shouldn’t feel so surreal anymore but in some ways it still is lol

So today I am absolutely happy and blessed to still be here expressing my love for Onward after all this time and would like to thank everyone here for sticking by me and supporting me, my rambles, my detail scouts, my fanart-sharing series and everything else in between even after IYTM’s publication! 💜💙

I’ve met some really incredible people here who are all absolutely amazing! And I want to go as far as saying you’ve been some of the greatest friends I’ve ever had in my life! We may be all over the world, but our friendship and our commitment to give this film the respect it deserves is strong! 💓

And since day one of being here, I’ve really loved supporting you guys and your content too! Your art and writing for this magical world of wonder puts a smile and a laugh on my face everyday. It cheers me up when I’m feeling down and brings me as much excitement as an Onward sequel could! 😄

So I am going to keep being here and to keep speaking out for how magical, wonderful, and amazing the world of Onward truly is with you all! Cause let’s be real, if we don’t let the world know what an amazing masterpiece this film is, who will? ✊✊✊

And heck, until our day of justice arrives, who knows? I may or may not have just started development on another epic piece of multi-chapter writing in my notes and in my Google docs…but I’ll leave it at that for now… 👀

So here’s to another great year of being a Quest Master and to spreading even more Onward love!

#onward #fandom anniversary #cd's 1st anniversary #one year #cd's rambles #pixar onward #cdmagic1408

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lowkeyorloki · 3 years ago

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Goldfish

Pairing: Loki x Mobius

Rating: Teen and up, but nothing more than a couple kisses

A/N: Hiiii sorry I’m never on here anymore I’m a bit busy and I don’t have time to post consistently on tumblr if I want to keep updating my multichapter! I know this isn’t my usual content but I’m posting it on my ao3 so I figured I’d drop it here as well ^.^ it’s funny, I don’t even ship lokius but I saw some fanart on twitter of them hugging and it just... inspired me. If this is your thing, I hope you enjoy <3

It’s just that… Loki knows it will have to be him.

He can’t read Mobius, not like he can every other human he comes across. Or being, even. Mobius has seen every moment of Loki’s life, some of which Loki himself will now never live out or understand. Mobius has watched Loki in his most private moments.

It makes the TVA agent inescapable. He knows Loki, truly knows him, whether Loki likes it or not.

And so Loki can’t tell with Mobius. The small exhaled laughs or the allowance of Loki to fix his tie. Loki doesn’t know if Mobius does these things because he wants to, or because Loki would like to think the other man wants him to.

And Mobius is loyal to the TVA, anyway. Even if he were to look past all of Loki’s faults, even if Mobius were to see Loki as anything more than a pain in the ass of a friend, he wouldn’t do anything. It was controversial enough to bring in Loki at all.

Loki should be thankful he has Mobius in any capacity at all.

And so Loki knows he would have to make the first move. And he can’t do that, because Mobius is possibly the only person who could destroy Loki with a simple rejection.

Loki keeps quiet, and lives for when his shoulder brushes Mobius’s in the elevator.

Trying to find the variant is exhausting. Mobius is on his seventh cup of coffee, and his head is starting to buzz. Not the good, productive type of buzz either. The type that makes someone need to lay down.

Apparently, Loki has already had that idea. Mobius glances at him, asleep across the table and surrounded by books and loose papers. As he drains the last of what’s in his cup, Mobius realizes he hasn’t seen Loki eat or drink a single thing since he got here. If he had to, Mobius would bet money the god hasn’t been sleeping either.

Mobius stands up, his back cracking when he does. He groans - Mobius is getting old, something he’s noticed more and more lately. He walks around the table until he’s right next to Loki, ready to wake him up. Loki’s breaths are even, hitting the ends of a few pieces of paper. Mobius has never really seen him like this - calm, subdued. He almost looks peaceful. Mobius leans over Loki, hands on his hips as he examines the other man.

Mobius would never tell Loki, but it is obvious that the dark-haired man is a god. There are just things about his looks that clue Mobius in.

Loki’s skin, even as it’s gotten dull with his time in the TVA, is technically flawless. He glows, even in his embarrassing or rude moments. His cheekbones are impossibly sharp, and his lips are the reddest Mobius has seen. He would guess they’re soft.

Loki’s hair was the most dead giveaway. It always looked perfect, loose curls that seemed to suck in any light. It was the opposite of Mobius’s graying blond hair. He’s shiny. Everything about Loki is shiny.

Loki stirs, and Mobius straightens up, not wanting Loki to see him watching. He was upset enough that Mobius has watched his entire life over.

Mobius ponders how to wake Loki up when a lock of his black hair falls into his face. Without thinking, Mobius reaches forward and tucks it behind the man’s ear.

Reckless. Loki really does start to wake up then, and Mobius swats him with the corner of the folders in his hand.

“Come on,” Mobius says. “We’re not even close to done.”

The two of them are so close to making strides. Loki is smart, just like Mobius knew - just like he keeps convincing Ravonna - but he’s being held back. It’s like a single wrong look could make Loki wither away, be absent for the rest of the day. Mobius has no clue how someone who thought so highly of himself could be so affected by the glare of a random agent. Maybe Mobius didn’t know Loki as well as he thought. Only in small ways, though.

And Mobius still hasn’t seen him eat or drink a damn thing.

He stands up abruptly, surprising Loki. His head shoots up, perfect curls becoming loose and falling in his face in the process. Mobius almost considers brushing them away.

“Come on,” he says, gesturing towards the exit. Loki narrows his eyes.

“We haven’t even been here four hours,” he says, which is generous, because they both know they’ve only been there for two. Mobius lets out a harsh sigh.

“Am I the supervisor or are you? Let’s go, Loki.” Loki seems to know Mobius is doing him a favor, and stands up as well. Loki follows him down a new set of hallways, stands next to him in an elevator he hasn’t been on yet.

“Am I to take it we’re breaking the rules, or…?” Loki trails off in a way that is anything but unsure.

“It’s for the sake of the cause,” Mobius says. “We don’t need to address it directly.”

Mobius does look over his shoulder when he gets to the door, and locks it as soon as they’re both inside. He flicks on the lights, and Loki looks bored. Mobius lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Don’t say I never did anything for you. Sit down,” he gestures towards the couch.

“Agent Mobius, are you allowing me in your home?” Loki’s eyes glint. Despite himself, Mobius finds himself relieved to hear Loki making quips again. He already might have more energy.

“Hey, if we don’t talk about it, my job security looks a lot better,” Mobius sets a bowl down in front of Loki. “Will you please eat something? God or not, I don’t know how you’re still alive after a month.” Loki presses his lips into a thin line.

“Mobius, I appreciate the gesture, but you don’t need to -” Mobius is already prepared, and tosses a piece of food directly into Loki’s mouth as he speaks. He makes a gagging noise, and looks at Mobius furiously, but the other man is already laughing.

“What… what are these?” He asks after swallowing, seemingly admitting defeat. Mobius laughs again.

“Goldfish. They’re from Earth you know,” Mobius eats a few, and quietly celebrates when Loki does as well.

“Goldfish. I know of an employee you have that might benefit from these,” Loki tells him.

“I’m flattered you think I’m anyone’s, especially Casey’s, superior. But really, the only person I’m in charge of is you,” Mobius says. Loki glares.

“I’m always ten steps ahead of you all. Surely you know that,” he says, but it’s non-committal. Mobius can tell.

“Yep. You’ve said before, handsome. This is all part of your plan.” Mobius looks to Loki for his next retort, but Loki doesn’t say anything. He stares at Mobius with an unreadable look on his face, and Mobius realizes his slip up. Handsome.

“Hey, don’t let my crackers go to waste. They’re hard to get a hold of around here, you know,” Mobius says, and Loki seems to move.

They stay like that for awhile, Loki sitting as Mobius watches over him. Mobius is just getting comfortable again when Loki gets up.

“It’s been great, but we probably should be heading back now,” he says, walking towards the door. “Wouldn’t want the timekeepers finding out about this, would we?”

Mobius stops him, carefully telling him to wait. Loki does, back facing him.

“I can tell you’re tired, Loki. I get it. You got here just after a war,” Loki tenses, just barely, at the mention of New York. Mobius talks faster to smooth it over. “I think you can take a day off. Better for me anyway. I don’t want to be sticking my neck out for someone who isn’t even helping all that much.” Mobius puts his hand on Loki’s shoulder.

He’s always shocked by the amount of muscle he can feel through the material of Loki’s shirt. Loki seems so lean, but whenever Mobius touches him, he can feel how solid the other man is. He likes it. It’s soothing.

Loki turns around, looking suspicious. Mobius doesn’t blame Loki, but he does almost feel guilty.

Almost.

“You can sleep here. Not just today. I’m sure the cot they have you sleeping in hardly compares to whatever you had on Asgard,” Mobius steps away, letting Loki go and waving his hand. “My couch doesn’t either, but it’s an upgrade for sure. Living room is all yours, buddy.”

“Where are you going?” Loki asks. Mobius looks at him.

“To my room. I’m tired too,” he says. Loki blinks.

“Won’t someone notice I’m not where I’m supposed to be?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Mobius says dismissively, even though he has no idea how he’s going to pull this off.

He’s practically made Loki a promise at this point. He’ll figure out how to make it all okay somehow.

It’s driving Loki insane.

Before, he could keep it all in because he was scared that Mobius wouldn’t want it. Wouldn’t want him. But now, there are moments that Loki doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that Mobius might push him away, give him that disapproving look if it meant Loki could just…

Kiss him.

Loki scoffs at himself. He didn’t even get this caught up in the thought of a kiss as a boy. It was pathetic to feel like this in adulthood.

What’s even worse is the thought that maybe this is how it’s supposed to be. He can recall watching Thor on Earth as he followed around Jane Foster, losing every bit of charm that kept him so popular on Asgard. At the time, Loki didn’t understand it.

But now he does.

Everything is so high stakes for him - Loki is doomed if he doesn’t do as the TVA wants, and he would have been doomed had he just stayed on Earth like he was supposed to. But he barely even pays attention to those things.

Every waking moment is about Mobius. How he looks in the morning before he showers, hair tousled as he digs around in the fridge. The way his face lights up when he and Loki almost find the variant, and then the inevitable disappointment when they don’t. How every night, without fail, he tells Loki goodnight as the god falls asleep on his couch.

Loki is starting to think there is something here. Because he’s paranoid, but not stupid. Mobius wouldn’t be letting Loki get this close if he thought the same way as when they first met.

They enjoy each other. Mobius likes to lead, to rebel in the way he’s been given permission to. And Loki is realizing he doesn’t mind following a man like Mobius.

Of course, the TVA isn’t so bad either.

The organization itself, Loki hates. He’s never met the timekeepers, but they sound like kings. That was a group Loki never got along with.

But the buildings, the center, was growing on him. Even if he wasn’t allowed access to most of the materials, Loki likes the library. He enjoys staying deep in the bookshelves, and bringing a stack out to drop right on the book Mobius is reading. Loki likes the elevators, which seemed to be the few minutes he could simply stand in silence and rest. He likes Casey too, though he tends to leave the poor, sad man alone now.

Most of all, Loki likes the long hallways that rarely had anyone but him and Mobius. They feel private without being stifling. Sometimes, when the two go back to Mobius’s apartment too early, Loki feels sick. Like it physically hurts to be so close to having what he wants.

“That brown suit is hideous, you know.” Loki tells Mobius as they’re both getting ready. Mobius scowls at Loki.

“It’s uniform. You know, if everything works out, you might get one just like it,” Mobius retorts. Loki scoffs. “Alright then, mr. prince. What would you have me in?”

Loki stops, his eyes trailing over Mobius as he thinks about the question. Loki smirks, turning around as he grabs his belt.

“Anything else. You always look so uptight. No one here knows how to let loose a bit.”

“I’m uptight. That’s a good one,” Mobius says. He’s standing by the door, wanting to leave. “Could you hurry up and put your pants on? We’re late.”

All Loki is doing is tucking his shirt in, but he thinks he can feel Mobius looking. It’s in a way that doesn’t seem strictly observational.

The nightmares, of course, are an issue.

Loki hasn’t shared a room since he and Thor were children, so no one knows about the night terrors he gets. Maybe Mobius does, having had a glance at a few as he watched Loki’s life play out on the screen. But Loki doesn’t think so, because Mobius has never said anything.

But of course, Loki has to ruin that. He wakes up with a shout that echoes off the walls. He slaps a hand over his mouth, then pulls it away, sticky with sweat. He’s pinching the bridge of his nose when Mobius bursts into the living room, slamming his hand over the light switch to turn it on.

“I’m sorry,” Loki says immediately, squinting at the brightness. “I didn’t mean to be so loud. I know you would get in trouble if someone were to find me here.”

“You.. I’d…” Mobius blinks, still half asleep and trying to figure out what’s happening. “Loki, are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Go back to bed, Mobius.” Loki leans more into his palm, cursing himself for letting this happen. If Mobius knows Loki like he claims to, he should just go.

Mobius stays in the doorway, and Loki can practically hear the gears turning in his head. Mobius sighs.

“Look, I’m not gonna ask you what it was, but… why don’t you sleep in here for tonight?” He gestures behind him, presumably towards his bed. Loki raises his head, looking at the other man.

Mobius looks sincere - painfully so. It seems like he doesn’t know what’s going on or what he should do, but he also looks like he just wants Loki to listen.

Loki gets up, folding the blanket on the couch before he follows Mobius. Loki crawls into the bed after the other man, staying as far away as possible. He expects Mobius to say something else, but he doesn’t. Mobius just sighs and yanks the blanket towards him.

Loki wakes up feeling amazing.

He feels rested, warm and heavy as he stirs. The room smells like sleep, and Loki can’t help but raise his arms above his head and stretch. That’s when he feels something on his chest. Loki opens his eyes, peering down. Mobius’s arm is slung over him, the other man still asleep.

Loki doesn’t move, trying to figure out how asleep Mobius still is. He wonders if they can stay like this for a few more minutes.

He doesn’t take the chance. Loki gets up, quietly leaving so he can take a shower in the bathroom where his toothbrush sits next to Mobius’s.

Mobius doesn’t like this shift in his feelings.

He liked thinking Loki was all bravado with no depth. It was easy to separate everything that way. What was work, and what wasn’t. What mattered and didn’t.

What was ethical or not.

Being around Loki so much was making Mobius like him. Even worse, care. He started to dread rewatching certain scenes from his life to look for clues that might tell him where other Lokis are, because Mobius can see the effects of it all now. They’re playing out in front of him, sleeping on his living room couch.

When Loki wakes up from whatever he was dreaming about, Mobius feels sick. He doesn’t even think about the fact Loki’s cry is loud enough to get caught - literally does not even occur to him. His only thought is, what now? What could possibly catch up to you here?

After Loki lays down in his bed (which was easier to get him to do than Mobius thought), Mobius listens for his breathing to even out. Then he reaches over, resting his arm on Loki’s chest. Mobius falls asleep making sure Loki is still breathing.

Mobius notices the way Loki looks at him. The realization makes Mobius think about the two of them. What it would mean.

It hasn’t even occurred to him to look at Loki like that, not seriously. Loki is an asset, so Mobius built up a ton of walls for the sake of professionalism. You know, for his job. Mobius is aware of Loki’s attractiveness because he has to be. It’s part of the reason all these Lokis get away with so much.

But after that night Mobius begins to look at Loki because he can. And then he realizes he’s been doing that all along.

“You know,” Mobius tells Loki the next afternoon. They’re in the cafeteria, and Loki is eating everything in his salad but the cherry tomatoes. “It might be better if you stay with me again tonight. Like you said, we wouldn’t want any of my neighbors to pick up on anything.” Loki raises an eyebrow, carefully setting his fork down. Mobius clears his throat.

“No need to be embarrassed, partner. I’m told I have a soothing presence.”

“I absolutely would not say that,” Loki says. “But… if you insist. After all,” Loki’s eyes glint. “You’re in charge.”

Mobius doesn’t know what to say to that, and drinks a cup of water in just one gulp.

And they settle into it. Loki doesn’t sneak out of Mobius’s arms, in fact, he actively seeks them out. Only once everything is quiet and the lights are out, but still. Loki tucks his head under Mobius’s chin, Mobius wraps his arms around Loki’s torso, and they both like it. A lot.

They don’t mention it ever, but it doesn’t seem like something they aren’t allowed to talk about. It’s just part of the routine. Shower, study, search, eat, get in bed. It’s nice.

At some point, Loki realizes this is the longest he’s stayed in one place for a very long time.

Just like Loki thought, he’s the first to do it.

They’re in the elevator, and it’s taking a particularly long time, and Mobius decided to stand closer than he needed to and Loki just… kisses him.

The best part is, Mobius doesn’t even seem surprised. He opens his mouth when Loki bites down on his lip, and he holds on to the lapels of Loki’s jacket and Loki cradles his face. Everything is so familiar, so natural, and Loki can’t help but smile against Mobius’s stupid mustache.

And then Loki pulls away. Mobius doesn’t say anything, but he gives Loki a sad smile. Loki feels his blood run cold.

“What?” He asks, and suddenly, he feels like a child. Like Mobius knows something he doesn’t, and now Loki is going to be chastised.

“Nothing,” Mobius says, but that’s obviously not true. He sighs. “It’s just… that can't happen again.”

Loki stares at Mobius. “Why?” He demands. “Did you like it?”

“Yes,” Mobius says. His hands are resting on Loki’s waist, but he slides one over Loki's stomach. Mobius’s fingers find their way through the holes that the buttons of Loki’s shirt leave. The feeling of Mobius’s fingers on Loki’s bare skin make Loki dizzy, and confused.

“Then why can’t we do it again?” He asks, wanting to rip Mobius’s hand off of him, but unable to bring himself to. Mobius grimaces.

“Loki... Isn’t what we got goin’ enough?” Loki is cool under Mobius’s fingers. No more than anyone else though, even with his frost giant heritage. “C’mon, Loki,” when Mobius glances at Loki, then immediately looks away. The sight of Loki’s disorientated face, combined with his mouth slightly ajar… it’s too much. “You know if it goes any further one of us will screw up. I’ll even say it’ll be me. But someone would notice. It’d be impossible for them not to.”

“But… you’re the one who started this,” Loki protests, and he’s right, because Mobius is the one who brought him into this whole mess. The TVA, his apartment, his bedroom. It’s all been Mobius. Loki never asked for any of that.

“I know,” Mobius says, and he sounds like he’s sorry. “Listen, I know. I’m sorry. We can’t have it all, but if we keep going the way we have, we can still have some.”

Loki steps away, and Mobius’s face falls. He looks more angry than sad.

“I think I’d like to go back to my cell now.” Loki says.

Loki doesn’t actually go back to his cell. But he does sleep on the couch again, and refuses to touch the Goldfish Mobius leaves out.

Mobius feels like a dick, but he’s also sort of pissed. He’s not happy about this either, and if Loki wasn’t always so selfish, he would see that Mobius also isn’t prancing around in happiness.

“I’m not like you,” Mobius tells Loki the next morning. “Look, I can’t just… rebel. It’s not a luxury I’ve been afforded.”

“I’m glad that after seeing my entire life and death, you’ve settled on the word ‘luxury’ to describe it,” Loki responds angrily, and Mobius just backs off. He knows he won’t get anywhere with Loki, not like this.

Watching Loki close himself off is… exactly what Mobius would have thought it would be.

It’s exactly the same as when Loki arrived at the TVA, he’s just less defensive. Loki is just as mad at everyone else, but with Mobius, Loki doesn’t even give him a reaction. He does exactly what’s asked of him, no more and no less.

Mobius misses him.

Loki is just across the table, but Mobius misses their rapport. He wants to tease the god again, hassle him as they make their way to the cafeteria. Mobius wants to listen to Loki talk about Asgard, tell him all the little details that can’t be picked up on a screen. He wants his friend back.

And now Mobius isn’t sleeping, either. He grew used to Loki’s head resting on his chest, the feeling of his hip in his hand. Mobius thinks about the skin of Loki’s stomach, how everything in the elevator felt.

It was like Mobius lit up. He felt alive again, with free will and all.

But of course, Mobius doesn’t have free will. If he did, he’d pull Loki into the elevator himself, and show Loki just how much wanted this too.

It hurts because Loki knows Mobius wants this.

It’s almost worse than if he didn’t - because Mobius liking, wanting, and maybe even needing Loki back, it makes him like everything else in Loki’s life. Loki is so close, he can reach it, even hold it in the palm of his hand. A life with Mobius, at least for the time being, would be exactly as it was before the argument, except more so. Just a bit more.

Loki can’t take it. He feels like he’s going to vomit every second of the day, because his life is a vicious cycle and coming so far just to be thrown away. He takes long showers now, the stream of water being the only thing that can drown out his thoughts. Loki almost doesn’t see Mobius as he steps out of the bathroom, drying his hair.

“Loki,” the other man says, and his tone is so grave that Loki stops.

“Mobius,” he responds. “Do you need something?”

“I… I wanted to apologize,” Mobius takes a step forward. “For what I said.”

Loki tilts his head. “For which part? I recall quite a few things.” A look of exasperation passes over Mobius’s face. Loki hates to admit it, but the look is relieving. It makes everything seem less serious than it is.

“What I said about not being like you,” Mobius explains. “Look, I know you’ve felt alone your whole life. And the way I said that, I don’t feel good about it. I’m sorry.”

Loki blinks, then throws his towel in the hamper.

“It’s fine,” he says. Mobius shakes his head, stepping even closer, and Loki raises his eyes.

“No, Loki, it’s not,” Mobius reaches up, running his fingers through Loki’s damp hair. “I lied,” he murmurs. “I lied to the God of Lies. I am like you, Loki. I’m your kind. I know Lokis, so I know who you would have been. But this you?” Mobius places his hands over Loki’s hips and pushes, pressing Loki’s back against the wall. “I’m still getting to know who you are now. And I like you, Loki. I really do.” Mobius stares at Loki expectantly. Loki swallows, resting his hands on Mobius’s shoulders. Mobius is softer than Loki is, and it makes Loki’s mouth water. From here, Loki can see every wrinkle and gray hair that Mobius has. He’s painfully human. Loki closes his eyes, leaning forward to press his lips against Mobius’s temple.

“Do you mean it?” He asks. “Will it stick? Are you going to call it all off?” At this angle, Mobius can reach Loki’s neck, and he begins to suck on the delicate skin there. Loki lets out a moan.

“I can’t promise we’re gonna get married and be together forever,” Mobius teases Loki lightly. He runs his tongue over Loki’s Adam’s Apple. “But I’m not gonna stop just because of the TVA. You.. you’re worth more than that.” Mobius slides his palms under Loki’s shirt and up his back, and Loki melts into him. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Loki says, because that’s all there is to say. He trusts Mobius, Loki realizes. He wholeheartedly does.

“Loki,” Mobius says, exhaling. “Can I touch you? Do you want me to touch you?”

Loki straightens, catching Mobius’s eye.

“Yes.”

#also as you all know i hated the show so if some details are off. good <3 #lmao i called casey randall bc i thought that was his name #anyway #loki #loki laufeyson #mobius #mobius m. mobius #mobius m mobius #lokius #loki x mobius #loki laufeyson x mobius #loki laufeyson x mobius m. mobius #owen wilson #tom hiddleston #loki 2021 #loki (2021)#loki series

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fannishcodex · 3 years ago

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2021 Entrapdak Positivity Month: #04

#04 Cleaning

*self-conscious because have seen cute sweet cleaning fanart, and instead i wanted to interpret this completely differently*

A/N: Role Swap AU and Gen Swap AU and Mirrorverse/Moral Swap AU...also just collectively Swap AU at the moment.

Some shortish notes on my Swap AU: Adora is one of many magitech androids (collectively called the She-Ra) that serve their creator, highly advanced and rogue A.I. Light Hope. Adora gets stranded on Etheria and ends up leading the Royal Alliance, a consolidation of royalty and nobles tightening control over the planet. The Alliance dethroned Bright Moon's original monarchy and took over. Hordak is a young soldier training to serve the Royal Alliance and trying to prove himself despite his physical “defect,” until he finds a mysterious magitech sword made by the First Ones. The sword contains a sentient A.I. that goes by Anillis. Since he was little, Hordak has been in the custody of C'yra, shadow sorcerer-general of the Royal Alliance. Since she was little, Princess Entrapta of Dryl has been in the custody of Princesses Perfuma, Mermista, and Frosta. When taken on trips to Bright Moon Castle, Entrapta likes spending time with Hordak, something they have enjoyed since they first met as young children. Hordak and Entrapta are teenagers while Adora, C'yra, Perfuma, Mermista, and Frosta, etc., are adults.

Before things get better, I've been brainstorming things are worse in this AU than they are in canon; like, for example, I’ve been imagining Swap!Royal Alliance worse than Etherian Horde partly because they're already explicitly more in control of Etheria and have a longer history of ruling the planet.

And now I experiment more with clues about events in the AU while writing a character and relationship study under different circumstances in a different world. The events of this may or may not be included in some form in my main swap fic on ao3, but it’s definitely been part of my brainstorming for it.

---

Hordak winced, and Entrapta flinched, shaking hands and the wet cloth they held jerking away from the deep claw marks on his back.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was small. "But I have to clean...this."

"'S'fine," Hordak mumbled, just tired and pained, and Entrapta ached all the more. But she resumed cleaning the bloody wounds that marred her partner, her hands steadying as she went. Entrapta wondered if he would walk away with more scars left behind by his adoptive mother, and her jaw clenched.

Something grazed her ear, and she recoiled without a thought, Hordak asked what's wrong—something was on her head—they were in the woods, and Perfuma could control plants, this was the worst place to be, it didn't matter that her adoptive guardians should've been back at the Alliance headquarters in Bright Moon Castle—

With one hand clutching Hordak's shoulder and the damp cloth pinned against his skin, Entrapta pulled out her shock baton and looked around, breathing harshly. She felt Hordak tense, but he waited, trusting her. Then Entrapta hesitantly calmed, put her baton away, and finally checked her head, finding two dry leaves—one on her shoulder and one with its stem loosely stuck through a little of her tightly shorn hair. She brushed off the foliage (free of magical control), apologized to Hordak and told him it was nothing, everything's okay, they were okay.

Then she heard Evenstar start beeping in a rapid stream, and she and Hordak quickly glanced at the pale blue, circular robot. But she only stood over the First Ones sword that had been dropped to the ground, beeping at it in what she and likely Hordak realized was amiable, excited chatter. Eventually, the sword beeped back, at a slower, slightly deeper, somehow more elegant-sounding clip. Its green gem had a line of crackling white that moved up and down in jagged peaks as it made sounds, and it seemed to glow brighter.

"Oh, you know binary too—um, Anillis?" Entrapta tried, hoping she got the sword A.I.'s name right. She should focus—these wounds were awful—but she desperately wanted some distraction for her and Hordak. But she could multitask. After quickly scrubbing her freckled cheeks dry—a few panic-stricken tears had slipped out again—Entrapta resumed cleaning Hordak's wounds, and listened for the A.I.'s response.

"So far Evenstar is speaking a form of binary I'm familiar with," Anillis's voice emanated from the sword, switching back to her and Hordak's native tongue, and again Entrapta was fascinated. Anillis sounded very much like Hordak, just older—and of course, he was also an A.I. housed inside a magitech sword, an amazing example of First Ones tech! Of course, that was exciting too. But the specificity of the A.I. sounding like Hordak fascinated her even more. Had the A.I. imprinted on Hordak and developed an approximation of his voice? So many questions.

"Evenstar," Hordak rasped out, and Entrapta took a breath and tried wringing out the cloth stained with blue blood and dipping it in the river again.

Resources were scarce after their unplanned escape from the Royal Alliance. She had just ripped off a part of her coat for cleaning Hordak's wounds, and she just had the river to rely on. Fortunately, Anillis had encouraged Hordak to dip him—the sword—oh this could get confusing—to dip the sword in the river beforehand. Hordak's eyes had changed again, but this time they all turned green, no trace of red was left; the emergence of slit pupils turned a glowing white instead of a deep black; and extra eyes didn't split open on his face. And the sword had hummed with energy again, as if preparing to shoot off the energy blasts she'd just witnessed hours ago—but this time the energy made some of the river's water angrily bubble, boiling it, and Entrapta understood what Anillis had wanted to try. Entrapta had waited for the boiled portion of the river to cool, then dipped her makeshift cloth in the water and began cleaning Hordak's injuries. She hoped it had been enough to clear the water of potential contaminants.

"Evensta—Evie, could you keep watch, please?" Hordak sounded even weaker, and Entrapta checked his forehead with a quick graze of her hand—still slick with sweat. What if the wounds had already been infected during the fight or while they fled on Evie? Then again, Hordak's desperate fight with C'yra had been brutal. Of course it made him sweat. (But could it mean more now?)

The robot gave an affirmative beep for her injured creator. "I can assist Evenstar as well," Anillis added.

"Oh...you—you can?" Hordak said, and from his voice Entrapta could picture his eyes getting glazier. Finally she just tore off another piece of her coat, providing a new piece of cloth to try to clean Hordak's wounds with.

"If we need any mobility, that's all on Evenstar," Anillis dryly said, and Entrapta felt a small stab of guilt over just leaving him-inside-the-sword lying on the grass like that and not even propped up against a tree, but Hordak had just finally collapsed and Entrapta had only thought of helping him up—Entrapta took a breath. She needed to calm down. Anillis showed zero problem with this, he must've understood; only she was starting to fret over this. There was no time for that, Hordak needed her more.

"But I can help her with surveillance at least," the sword A.I. continued. "My sensors should be enough for that."

After that, with two A.I. on guard, and Entrapta focused on Hordak's wounds, all went quiet in the Whispering Woods. Finally Entrapta shredded her whole jacket for cleaning wounds and then makeshift bandaging wrapped tight around Hordak's torso. She tended to his armor, particularly on his arms. Claw marks had been gouged through the metal there, but they seemed to have held up better than Hordak’s skin and clothes against a magicat sorcerer. Entrapta did what she could, and told herself she would do more once she scrounged up more resources.

Finally, she helped her partner lie down, and joined him, resting beside him. She wanted to curl close to him, but worried about aggravating his wounds. At least she was close enough for him to reach out to her, and for her to get flustered and tell him he shouldn't move, before quieting when his stiff, trembling hand found her cheek and finally relaxed when he touched her; and she relaxed just as much under his talons, gentle with her even while he clearly suffered and had been thoroughly made into a cruelly clawed up scratching post.

Entrapta closed her eyes as his talons threaded through her short hair.

"I wanna grow it out," Entrapta murmured. "Perfuma and the others wouldn't let me, but..."

Her throat thickened at the thought of her own adoptive guardians. Then her eyes burned. "Oh jeez, did I make you run away just so I can finally grow my hair out?"

"'Course not," Hordak simply said. "And I—I did want this too—I did want to leave—and leave with you—"

Her partner took a shuddering breath, and Entrapta shook her head. "Never mind, don't. Just save your strength. We can talk more when you're better."

"Just talk, please," Hordak said, closing his eyes, his hand growing a little more slack so that it slipped away from Entrapta's hair and just rested on her cheek now. She anticipated it sliding off when he finally fell asleep, and planned to catch it and place his hand gently on the ground instead when that time came. "I just...just wanna listen." Hordak's language was usually more precise than this, and the fact that it wasn't pointed to the severity of his pain and exhaustion.

Entrapta gulped down another breath. This was ridiculous, she hadn't suffered awful injuries like Hordak, why did she keep finding it hard to breathe?

"Sure, can do." She tried to smile, but it wobbled.

And then Entrapta struggled for words. This was the worst time for that. When it was just her and Hordak, words were easier, she didn't have to carefully navigate them like she had to with her guardians and other royals and nobles and Alliance members. Why were words failing her now, just when Hordak needed them the most?

"Thank you for coming with me when I asked you to," Entrapta finally murmured, her voice wet. She removed Hordak's hand, so that it would be easier to place her own hand on his bruised cheek. "I know we had talked about it before, sometimes, but we had never really...decided on anything, and..." Entrapta sobbed.

She scrubbed her freckled face dry again, then placed her hand back on Hordak. His eyes remained shut, and his breathing had leveled out somewhat; he seemed completely knocked out now. She would have to repeat this to him later. "You mean the world to me...so, thank you. Thank you for coming with me."

There was a noise.

Entrapta reached for her baton and placed a quieting hand on Hordak, starting to wake up. Catching her eye, he stilled.

They heard Evenstar revving her laser, until Anillis’s voice broke through, saying, “Wait. Hold your fire, that’s—she’s not an enemy, I know her—”

“Ani dearie?” That sounded like an old woman, and Entrapta began to relax, even as her confusion mounted. She frowned when Hordak started getting up to his elbows, but she helped him rise.

“Anillis,” the sword A.I. corrected, sounding more quietly awed without a trace of irritation. “You’re still here.”

“Of course I am, now wh—” When she came into view of Entrapta and Hordak (now sitting up), the old woman paused, staring at them.

“Oh, Kadroh dearie!” The stranger said, rushing over remarkably fast and briefly reminding Entrapta of a cute little white hedgehog. But when she came a little too close for comfort to a startled Hordak, Entrapta stepped in between them.

But when the old woman ducked under her arm, Entrapta blankly thought, Touché. Boy, she was tired and ready to sleep for like a hundred days or something.

“Kadroh, where have you and Ani been—oh dear, you’re hurt—”

“Um, ma’am, I’m sorry, but you have me mistaken for—I’m Hordak, not...”

“He’s right, Razz,” Anillis said, voice low. “Look at his eyes, look at his crest—”

The old woman—Razz squinted behind her big round glasses. Then her voice softened. “Yes, I see now...so similar, though...you’re Kadroh’s younger brother, aren’t you?”

Entrapta gaped. For as long as she remembered, Hordak had been an orphan and in General C’yra’s custody. Hordak turned to Anillis-in-the-sword. “What’s going on, you still haven’t explained anything—!”

“I will when you’re bleeding out a little less,” the sword A.I. snapped back. Then more calmly, he said, “Razz, do you have a place where we could stay?”

“Of course, dear, same as last time.” Then Razz turned, offering Hordak a hand. “Here, let Madame Razz and your violet friend here help you up—”

Then Evenstar beeped and scuttled forward. “That’s okay, Evie can give Hordak a ride,” Entrapta said, taking her partner’s hand. Then she paused, looked from Razz to Hordak. “You’re okay with this, right? Razz seems nice, and real nonthreatening, Anillis apparently knows her—and sorry for talking about you even though you’re right here.” She shot Razz a somewhat embarrassed look.

“Don’t fret, dearie,” Razz said, giving a smile so calming Entrapta immediately felt a little more relaxed.

“It’s fine, I want—” Hordak winced, and Entrapta held him. “I want answers, and Razz and the sword seem to know—”

“Anillis,” Entrapta corrected him without thinking, and Hordak glared at the ground.

“You can trust Razz,” Anillis said, his voice breaking in again. He sounded detached, but Entrapta thought it was the sort of detached she tried to use with the princesses when she wanted to hide stuff. “She’s an old friend.”

Hordak’s only response was to place a hand on Evenstar, and Entrapta helped him up, settling him on top of his robot. Then she moved to grab the sword, but Razz had already picked him up.

“It’s all right, I’ve got Ani here.”

“Anillis,” the sword repeated, but more out of reflex with less intent on actually being heard. “We’re fine, Entrapta.”

Entrapta nodded, then climbed on top of Evenstar. She’d support Hordak if he started to slump down in exhaustion or actually fell asleep—either way, she’d be there holding him up and making sure he didn’t fall off his robot.

Holding Hordak close, Entrapta and him rode away on Evenstar, following Razz while she held the sword, its green gem glowing in the dark of the woods.

---

A/N: There are some more direct swaps, and some more partial swaps. Like Hordak < — > Adora + Shadow Weaver < — > C'yra more directly, while Entrapta is partially swapped with Scorpia (cheerful Etherian princess raised in antagonist-aligned faction, though I imagine Swap!Entrapta's situation is pretty explicitly worse than Mainverse!Scorpia's) + just exploring Entrapta with a more explicitly traumatic background. (And been brainstorming that Swap!Scorpia more just Gen Swap and protagonist-aligned but still fighting the Royal Alliance, and there'll be no shifting down the line because she's more adamant about resisting the more corrupt Royal Alliance).

Perfuma, Mermista, and Frosta are just generally swapped from protagonist-aligned to antagonist-aligned and not with any specific characters, except maybe also elements of Shadow Weaver actually; they're Gen Swap and Mirrorverse/Moral Swap and explorations of Perfuma+Mermista+Frosta being older and stronger in their magic and more corrupt with their power.

And swapping can also just be pretty fluid/more sorta experimental. For example, C'yra < — > Shadow Weaver directly enough, but C'yra also still just as obsessed with the transforming wielder of the magic sword that rebels and defects, but now framed as an abusive mother than an abusive companion. (There won’t be any reconciliation between Swap!Hordak and Swap!C’yra.) Another example: Swap!Anillis also swapping around Light Hope’s and Horde Prime’s demeanor with being less robotic/a little more visibly snarky, as well as more concerned and invested rather than cold and uncaring.

Like in the mainverse, Emily = Evenstar and created by Hordak, but they're closer in this AU—Hordak personally built her and she's the only one he's created so far, Evenstar hasn’t been mass produced. Her name and paintjob are different since Hordak drew more from the leftover Bright Moon culture/decor he grew up in while he was raised in Bright Moon Castle.

#entrapdak positivity month #entrapdak positivity month 2021 #entrapta #hordak #role swap au

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xiaomomowrites · 4 years ago

Text

homecoming

Genshin Impact | TartaLi/ZhongChi

Summary: “You must not give up now, alright? I, too, wish for Childe to come home. I wish to see him again, and frankly, it scares me how much I want him by my side once more,” Zhongli acquiesces, “I miss him dearly, and all I want is to be able to hear his laugh again. You feel the same about your sister, do you not? But Aether, this kind of loss is something we both must grieve. But what is grief, if not love persevering?”

Aether opens his mouth to begin responding, but his jaw quickly snaps shut as the fate between his palms disappears.

Keqing and Mona gasp loudly from where they sit back at camp. Aether startles, and pulls back to look at him with wide golden eyes.

All four of them look up to the sky, and are astonished to see a single golden star hurtling toward the ground they sit on. Aether gasps, barely containing his scream.

“Oh my god,” Traveler inhales sharply, “oh my god, you-”

“Get out of there!” Mona yells, and suddenly she’s standing up on her chair. Keqing places a steadying hand on the small of her back. “It’s going to crash right into you! Move!”

Or, Zhongli and Aether just want Childe to come home. Their wishes come true.

Find it on Ao3!

A/N: Oh my goodness I wrote this in one sitting before throwing it at my editors and wishing them the best lol. I wrote this in honor of finally pulling Childe, and wow was this a treat to write! And yes, I wrote my own team reacting to Childe coming home. Aether isn't on my team anymore (I benched him back when I was WL3), but I wanted to include him because it isn't Genshin Impact without our favorite traveler. My main team consists of Zhongli, Mona, Chongyun, and Keqing! But now that Childe is with me, he'll be slowly making his way into my main party :)

Just a heads up, Keqing and Mona were written as best friends here, but you can interpret their relationship however you'd like haha

And once again, this fic was inspired by some twitter fanart that I will link in the end notes! Enjoyyyy <3

Aether is especially jittery this morning.

The blond is bouncing off the walls so early in the morning that even Zhongli was taken aback by his energy. The ex-Archon watches him with wary eyes as the traveler paces back and forth in front of the breakfast table, muttering to himself about ‘fates’ and ‘primogems’. Vaguely, Zhongli hears Aether mutter the numbers ‘one hundred and sixty’ and ‘thirty-two-eighty’ as he paces, and the deity ultimately decides he wants nothing to do with what Aether is scheming. The sun is rising and Zhongli has always loved watching the star rise with every inhale. The day starts when the sun wakes up, and it ends when the sun begins to rest. Zhongli closes his eyes, ignoring Aether’s anxious pacing in favor of the serenity of the wilderness they chose to camp out in for the night.

Mona and Keqing clamber out of their shared tent together, pinkies linked as usual. Keqing still dons her elegant silk sleeping robe and her lavender hair spills past her shoulders in cute, candid waves. Her eyes are still slightly hooded with sleep but she’s quick to blink her drowsiness away in favor of the day to come. Mona, on the other hand, is in the oversized tee shirt she bought from Majorie and her usual black tights. Her dark locks are out of their usual twin pigtails and flow down her back, tangled, and significantly less put together than Keqing. She yawns obnoxiously as she shuffles closer to the group.

The astrologist sniffles. “G’morning.”

“Good morning, friends,” Keqing greets with a small smile of her own and drags Mona to sit across from Zhongli. He offers her a smile. Mona blinks in response.

“Good morning, ladies. Did you sleep well?” Zhongli responds, and takes Mona’s glare as an answer in itself. “Still not a morning person, I see.”

“Never will be, Mr. Rex Lapis,” Mona sighs, thanking him quietly for the cup of tea he hands her in passing. Keqing makes a beeline for their makeshift kitchen to make the unruly bunch some breakfast. Zhongli always handles the tea, as picky as he is about his morning tea, and Keqing always handles breakfast.

“I assume young Chongyun will not be awake for awhile,” Zhongli chuckles, bringing his cup to his lips.

Keqing scoffs from the kitchen, “You can expect him around noon, Zhongli-xiansheng.”

Xiansheng.

Try as he might, he’s associated the suffix to a certain ginger. A ginger who he misses dearly, but hasn’t seen since he left for Snezhnaya in a hurry. Zhongli’s heart swoops. He left without so much as a goodbye, leaving Zhongli to pick up the pieces he left Liyue in and the unfortunate state of his heart. The thought of not seeing Childe ever again ate at him continuously until he felt hollow inside, and all he had left was a familiar ache every time the ginger came back to haunt his dreams. All Zhongli wanted was to know if the latter was okay, but with the way he had deceived him, he wasn’t sure if he deserved to know. As someone who greets death as if it were an old friend, never seeing Childe again simply because the circumstances do not allow it upsets him far more than he’d like to admit. Life, human life, was too short for Zhongli to be sitting around wasting time. But no matter how many times he’s preached this to himself, the ex-Archon still struggles with taking the steps to make contact.

How would he even begin, anyway?

The Harbinger was stuck with his Harbinger duties. Childe had a family to tend to and treasure hoarders to chase. It wasn’t like Zhongli could warp to Snezhnaya and sweep him off his feet; that would be inappropriate and selfish of him. And yet the idea of seeing him again, of hearing his laugh, watching him smile, pay for his food with that adorable expression of his, it almost makes him want to leave to see him right now. But he can’t. The situation simply does not allow it.

Right?

“Two minutes!” Aether suddenly yelps, making Mona jump in her chair. She whips around to glare at the overzealous traveler. Keqing’s head snaps in his direction and almost drops the pan she’s frying fish on. She clicks her tongue in mild annoyance. Zhongli frowns, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“What are you so anxious about, Aether?”

“You don’t understand, Zhongli!” Aether whips around, his crazy eyes locking onto Zhongli’s amber irises. “This team needs an archer. We need an archer. This is non-negotiable! I can’t keep bothering Keqing to shoot those stupid water birds if she can’t throw her hair pin that far! We need arrows, Zhongli, arrows!”

Keqing makes a small noise of offense.

His arms flail in the air, desperate to make everyone in the room feel the panic he is currently sinking under.

“Alright, alright,” Zhongli hushes him, unsure of why his friend was so disgruntled in the first place. As far as he knew, it was another normal day full of daily commissions and mindless material farming. “We need someone adept at long range fighting. But what does that have to do with your current state of distress?”

“Mona said that today, his chances are increased by two-hundred percent. Right, Mona?” Aether’s gaze suddenly locks onto hers. She blinks.

“Yeah,” she responds, “but we had this discussion already, Aether, Childe’s rates are increased but that doesn’t guarantee you the fifty-fifty-”

“Childe?” Zhongli interrupts, interest suddenly piqued. “What does this have to do with Childe?”

Fifty-fifty? The more the conversation went on, the more confused Zhongli grew.

“Agh!” Aether scrambles, “I have to go! It’s happening!”

Zhongli watches with twice the amount of curiosity he had two minutes earlier. The mention of Childe has his heart racing faster than he’d like to admit.

Aether frantically pulls out a bag full of intertwined fates and rushes out to the open field ahead of them. The bag is absolutely loaded, filled to the brim and overflowing with these small, circular things that, in his six thousand years of living, he has never seen before. They are colored blue and pink, and they mix together and sparkle so divinely that Zhongli finds himself entranced by their color alone. He has read about them and their uses in the past, but he has never seen someone actually wish upon them.

Mona sighs around her teacup. “He gets like this every time I tell him someone new is coming,” she shakes her head wistfully, “I always tell him to stop spending so much of his mora on these fates! They’re not good for the economy-”

“And what do you know about the economy, Mona?” Keqing chuckles, coming around with plated food for the trio, “you spend the entirety of your paychecks immediately on the newest hot astrology item. Not that they’re not important to you but I’ve told you before that you ought to be careful with how you spend your mora.”

Mona’s jaw drops. “What!” she fumbles, “I am plenty responsible with my mora! And the things I buy are completely valid and of high rarity, thank you!”

“Hmm, is that why you almost starved and ate nothing but mushrooms for three months?” Keqing teases, nudging Mona’s mouth open with chopsticks holding fish. The astrologist pouts, but opens her mouth to eat, anyway. She’s right, but Mona would never say that to her face.

Zhongli doesn’t pay attention to their bickering.

Instead, he fixates on the way Aether scurries out and dumps the bag of fates out on the open field before picking them up, one by one, until ten of them are bunched up in his arms. Aether flops down on the grass beneath him and folds his legs underneath himself. The traveler hunches over the fates, huddling them close to his chest, and Zhongli can barely see his mouth moving as Aether begins to wish upon ten stars. With every word spoken, each fate slowly starts to disappear. The more his mouth moves, the more the fates begin to disintegrate from his arms.

A loud whirring noise above their heads suddenly takes place. It gets louder as it gets closer, and Zhongli cranes his neck to see stars hurtling toward Teyvat. He feels panic bubbling up in his chest as he sees the bunch go straight for his friend.

“Aether!” he yells, “Get over here, it’s dangerous out in the open!”

“I’m fine!” he hollers back like a stubborn child. “Ugh, dammit!”

Zhongli looks back up, and is baffled to see that one of the stars has turned purple. What in Celestia’s name-

Barbara appears before them, and Zhongli’s eyes all but bulge out of his head. Celestia, he’s too old for this. The young nurse is not the only thing to appear, though. Zhongli observes the various weapons that litter the ground and surround Aether’s feet. The blond observes them with a scrutinizing gaze, nudging the three star weapons with his foot and pushing the four star weapons aside for later. How peculiar.

Mona, on the other hand, smiles and waves a hand at her fellow water catalyst. “Barbara!” She hollers, “It’s good to see you!”

“Mona!” the young idol responds with a blinding smile, before focusing her attention back on Aether. The traveler sighs, gives her a quick hug in greeting, and sends her on her merry way back to Mondstadt after apologizing profusely for the inconvenience.

Keqing snickers. “It’s always so funny watching him get so intense about wishing.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Mona adds, “Remember how much he screamed when he finally got us?”

“Oh yes,” Keqing smiles around her cup, “I remember him throwing these strange artifacts at me and shoving a sword in my face, demanding that I use it, as if I don’t already have my own weapon!” She waves her hand dismissively, reminiscing her days when she was first introduced to the team.

Mona tips her head back and laughs heartily. “Oh, yes. He took my book away from me and gave me my lovely eye of perception. I must say, it’s a bit of a downgrade from my five star weapon, but I do feel as if I deal more damage this way.”

Keqing hums in agreement. “Likewise.”

Zhongli is quiet.

All he remembers from joining Aether’s team is being pulled at the last minute and being tackled into a hug as soon as he appeared. The traveler had all but pushed the skyward spine into his hands, and told him to hold onto what looked to be archaic petra artifacts. Zhongli had cocked his head, confused, but followed along anyway. What Aether was doing seemed important, regardless, and he decided to support his endeavours from there on out.

Now he watches with bated breath as Aether curls around another set of ten fates. Zhongli is beginning to understand what he is doing, but he fails to decipher what Childe has to do with any of this. His rates are increased? What in Celestia’s name does that even mean?

Aether begins wishing upon ten more fates and the abrupt whooshing above their heads starts up once more. One of the stars morph midair into purple once again.

Keqing and Mona sigh.

Zhongli just wants to understand.

Aether punches the grass beneath him.

A young woman appears before them along with another unnecessary plethora of weapons. She’s blonde, just like the last one, but she dons two pigtails and an eyepatch. A strange electric bird hovers around her, too, and Zhongli can’t help but wonder why she is dressed the way she is; she’s covered in purple and black, cocking one hip as if she owned the world. Zhongli is unsure about the energy she exudes. But in fairness, it is far too early to judge one’s character on nothing but appearance. Still, he watches carefully.

“Fischl,” Aether breathes, slumping against the floor, “hello.”

“Traveler,” she greets. “What exactly am I doing here? I will have you know, as Prinzessin-”

“Der Verteilung, you have many duties at home you must attend to, lest the kingdom you rule with grace and elegance burn to the ground without your remarkable leadership,” Aether finishes for her, “I know, I know. Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to grab you. You can go home.”

Fischl harrumphs. “I’m relieved to know you are aware of my importance. Good day to you, strange traveler.”

And then she’s gone.

Zhongli sighs, pushing himself up from the table and ignoring the way his knees disagree with the sudden movement.

“Where are you going?” Keqing asks, helping herself to another cup of tea.

“I’m going to talk to Aether,” Zhongli declares, “He seems...rather troubled, and I wish to help.”

“He gets like this every time,” Mona reminds him, voice softer than it was two minutes ago, “it’s really nothing new.”

Zhongli shakes his head. “It does not make it right to let him sit in his anxiety like this. Perhaps he could use a friend.”

Mona shrugs and lets him go. As he walks away, he hears the girls behind him begin to talk.

“Does Zhongli have a thing for Childe?” Mona asks in a hushed breath. Keqing’s eyes widened comically.

“Not that I know of? Why, did you sense something?” She leans in closer, ever the gossip. Mona shuffles so they’re speaking in hushed tones, even though Zhongli can definitely still hear them. He chuckles, shaking his head disapprovingly.

The ex-Archon pads over to where Aether sits, frantically bunching together ten more fates. Zhongli sighs, and bends to sit next to him. His back screams in protest. Goodness, mortal life is getting to him.

“Aether,” he begins, “I worry for your health.”

“I’m fine, Zhongli. I’ll be fine as soon as he gets here,” Aether answers without even sparing the elder a glance. He picks up fates and observes them carefully to inspect their quality, as if he were picking ripe apples out from the grocery.

“And who exactly are you waiting for?” Zhongli asks, indulging the blond for a moment.

“Childe!” he yells, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The latter sighs. He, too, wishes for Childe to appear, but it simply did not work like that. One cannot summon another’s presence upon demand. Childe was too busy for that, anyway.

“Aether,” he begins, “you are anxious, friend, and I implore you to take a break from this please-”

“Zhongli,” traveler shuffles on his knees to look at him, “I have spent the last three months working my ass off for these fates, I’ve spent more mora than I’d like to admit, and I’ve spent far too long in that godforsaken spiral abyss scraping for three hundred primogems each time I freeze my ass off in floors nine and ten and it sucked, Zhongli, but I’ve worked hard and I need this, okay? I need Childe to come home. Because I need to get stronger, and I need a stronger team because I need to find my sister because I know she’s out there and, and-”

Zhongli raises a hand to quiet him. Oh, there was much to unpack here. His heart breaks for his friend’s state of distress. He places a comforting palm on Aether’s shoulder, lowering himself even more to look his friend in the eyes. The traveler looks a bit haggard, obviously from waking up early in anticipation. Zhongli wishes he could take his pain; he wishes he could take away the longing he desperately felt for his sister. But unfortunately, there was nothing he could do, so he offers his best comfort, instead.

“It’s alright,” Zhongli mutters, “I understand. You have worked hard, and you deserve a win. But Aether, whatever comes will come. Whether or not you ‘win the fifty-fifty’, you will be pushed in the right direction toward your sister, I promise you that. No amount of artifacts or talent books or weapon upgrades can compare to the strength you already harbor, looking for your sister every day despite knowing where she is. You face a battle against the unknown, and that in itself is commendable. Acknowledge your strength, Aether. You have come very far.”

Aether sags against him, letting himself lean forward until his forehead thumps against Zhongli’s chest. The contact is comforting. Everything about Zhongli is so warm and homey, and he smells of sleep and sandalwood. The calming effect is immediate, but his brain is still plagued with anxiety. Oh, Aether can’t bear the thought of Childe not coming this morning. It makes the blond sick to his stomach. Zhongli pats the top of his head soothingly.

“I know you miss her, but you will find her,” Zhongli continues. Aether squeezes the single fate in his hand anxiously. The blond fidgets with the single intertwined fate, pressing it up against Zhongli’s stomach as he squeezes his eyes shut, willing the tears to go away. He’s so, so tired.

“You must not give up now, alright? I, too, wish for Childe to come home. I wish to see him again, and frankly, it scares me how much I want him by my side once more,” Zhongli acquiesces, “I miss him dearly, and all I want is to be able to hear his laugh again. You feel the same about your sister, do you not? But Aether, this kind of loss is something we both must grieve. But what is grief, if not love persevering?”

Aether opens his mouth to begin responding, but his jaw quickly snaps shut as the fate between his palms disappears.

Keqing and Mona gasp loudly from where they sit back at camp. Aether startles, and pulls back to look at him with wide golden eyes.

All four of them look up to the sky, and are astonished to see a single golden star hurtling toward the ground they sit on. Aether gasps, barely containing his scream.

“Oh my god,” Traveler inhales sharply, “oh my god, you-”

“Get out of there!” Mona yells, and suddenly she’s standing up on her chair. Keqing places a steadying hand on the small of her back. “It’s going to crash right into you! Move!”

Aether scrambles backward as soon as he sees the pseudo asteroid plummeting directly toward where they’re both situated. “Zhongli!” he yells, “Move!”

The man in question shakes his head, unable to look away from the shooting star.

“It’s alright,” he responds, a sudden calm washing over him at the sight. Something about it feels so undeniably right. His heart tugs impatiently, desperately wishing to make contact with the ethereal being threatening to crash right into him, like a magnet reaching for its other half. “It’s alright, Aether.”

Seconds before it lands, Childe materializes right in front of him, arms flung wide open and a smile so bright that Zhongli almost winces.

The wind is knocked straight out his lungs upon seeing Childe’s gleeful face in front of him. It’s no longer a dream, Zhongli realizes. Ajax is here and he is very real and he is definitely plunging toward him at breakneck speed. This is no longer a figment of his imagination, and he has all but less than two seconds to comprehend that before the ginger barrels right into him.

Zhongi regains himself and digs his feet into the ground, summoning geo shackles from the ground to wrap around his ankles and lock him into place. He braces himself for impact.

Keqing screams. Mona looks away. Aether watches with wide, disbelieving eyes as Tartaglia comes plummeting out of the sky. He lets out an ugly mix between a sigh and a broken sob of relief. Finally. Celestia knows how much Aether needed this. He’s never been so happy to see an obnoxious red head of hair in his life.

Childe, Tartaglia, Ajax, slams into Zhongli at full force and immediately latches onto him like a lifeline. He wraps his arms around Zhongli’s neck, legs winding around his waist, and clings to him like a koala around a tree. Zhongli responds in kind, pressing Childe to his chest with strong arms that hold him impossibly close. The weights around his ankles drop as soon as he stabilizes the both of them, and the ex-Archon swings him around gleefully.

Tartaglia laughs, the noise slightly muffled from where his face is pressed into Zhongli’s collar. Tartaglia squeezes him tighter, and Zhongli eventually has to put him down because his back simply does not want to cooperate today. Tartaglia looks at him then, a little winded from his trek through the sky of all things. Cerulean eyes meet gold, and the sight of his freckled cheeks in front of him makes Zhongli feel as if he can do anything, gnosis or not. He is so filled with joy, heart so full of glee that he feels like he might burst. Celestia could redact his position as a god in its entirety and in this moment, he wouldn’t care. He couldn’t care, because immortality has been nothing but a curse to him so far, and growing old with the love of his life is all he ever desired.

“I can’t believe it,” Zhongli breathes, “you’re here?” he cups Ajax’s face gently, holding him as if he were made of glass.

“You called,” Childe responds, hands grasping at Zhongli’s waist. The Harbinger leans forward until their foreheads knock together. “I heard you, xiansheng. So I came.”

“Huh,” Zhongli says dumbly, “that’s all I had to do?”

“It’s all you had to do, idiot,” Childe scolds him, “I could feel you overthinking all the way from Snezhnaya!” he thumps a fist against Zhongli’s chest playfully. And to his delight, the sound that echoes is no longer hollow. Zhongli’s smile reaches his eyes for the first time in an abysmally long time.

“Childe!” Aether screams. They let go of each other in favor of looking at the one who made their reconciliation possible. “You son of a bitch!”

Childe’s eyes widen at the unprovoked insult. “What did I do?!”

“What did you do?” Aether is quick to rip his shoe off and fling it at Childe’s head. It misses, but only narrowly. “What took you so long, asshole!”

Tartaglia cocks his head to the side. “You were wishing for me, too? I only heard Zhongli’s voice, comrade!”

Aether squawks a noise of indignation. “You-!”

“Aether,” Zhongli interrupts their squabble. His hand never leaves the small of Childe’s back. “Thank you.”

The traveler lets himself slump forward, exhausted from draining all his emotional energy so early in the morning. “You’re welcome. Couldn’t have done it without you, Mr. Zhongli.”

“Is everything okay?” Keqing hollers from where she’s helping Mona down from her chair. “I hear a lot of yelling!”

“Everything is fine!” Aether yells back. Zhongli takes that as their cue to make their way back to camp.

When they arrive, the sun has risen well up into the sky and looms over all of their heads. Chongyun finally clambers out of his tent after he’s completed his ten hours of sleep. His light blue hair is ruffled adorably and he rubs the sleep out of his eyes. He stretches, yawns, and coughs when he takes too deep of an inhale. The exorcist summons one of his famous popsicles and sucks on it absentmindedly in place of a proper breakfast. He’s exquisite.

“Morning everyone,” he greets, nodding at the girls at the table. “I heard a lot of screaming. Who’s the new guy?”

Chongyun watches Childe blearily through sleepy eyes. He blinks, before taking in the newcomer. The first thing the young exorcist notices is the obnoxious head of red hair that barely looks styled. Next, is the mask he wears askew. And finally, the abnormal length of his femurs. Chongyun’s eyebrows furrow. He scratches his head. Why are his legs so long?

Childe leans into Zhongli’s side and grins wickedly upon noticing his vision.

“A cryo wielder, huh?” he snickers, “this is going to be fun.”

Mona is horrified to see the way the two never leave each other’s side.

Where there is Childe, there is Zhongli. Where there is Zhongli, there is Childe. Frankly, it is quite concerning. Do the two ever separate? Do they ever have an individual thought? Do they share those, too? Honestly, Mona thought she and Keqing were attached at the hip. But the fact that they can at least go to the bathroom separately says a lot more than what she can say for Zhongli and Childe. Seriously, these two act as if they’re never going to see each other again.

Regardless, Mona can’t bring herself to be surprised. From the moment she met the wild card that is Tartaglia, she knew that he and Zhongli were a good match. It was undeniable that the two had chemistry. Mona may not have been there for Aether’s adventures in Liyue, but she has seen enough of these two to know that they have quite the history. Although, that’s not the only thing about them that catches her attention. What was especially strange, however, was the way their pinkies would twitch anytime one would stray too far from the other.

It has been happening for a little over a week. Take, for example, this morning when the two had taken over the kitchen to allow Keqing to sleep in. Tartaglia moved to the far left side of camp to gather some ingredients, and Zhongli’s pinky had twitched and stretched out to where Childe was, not too far from him. At first, Mona had thought it was a Liyuan custom that she had no knowledge of, like the way Zhongli always told her to raise her pinky whenever she would drink. But this felt different. It looked effortless and candid, almost like Zhongli had no idea that it was happening.

The second occurrence was later in the afternoon when Aether had given them a new list of commissions for the day. Tartaglia was practically vibrating with excitement at the mention of four separate battles, and even offered to handle two of them on his own while the other four (Keqing requested a day off) separated and completed the other two. Aether had looked at him pointedly and shook his head no. They either did this as a team, or not at all.

Mid battle, while Childe was up against a blazing axe mitachurl, the jade shield that Zhongli had put up for him withered and dropped as soon as the mitachurl raised its weapon to swing violently at Childe. The wild look in its eyes made it very clear that the creature was out for blood, ready to defend the land that belonged to it. If Childe were to fumble for even a second and meet the brandished blade of the axe, it would have been the end for him.

His eyes widened.

Almost immediately, both of their pinkies twitched in place and stretched out as if reaching for the other. Mona watched the duo from the sidelines with curiosity as she and Chongyun froze a group of hilichurls together. She had sent out an illusory Phantom to continuously deal hydro damage and allowed Chongyun to go crazy with his claymore. The astrologist had sat back and observed the two on the opposite side of the battle field.

It had gone like this: the jade shield drops, their pinkies flutter, and Zhongli whips around with a level of ferocity and speed she’s never seen before to frantically summon a geo pillar right in between Childe and the mitachurl.

The Harbinger moves backwards just in time for the pillar to bear the brunt force of the swing, and his head snaps to where Zhongli stood. He stares at him, pointedly unamused with Childe’s recklessness, while he holds two hilichurls away from him with the butt end of his polearm. Childe grin and nods his thanks, and Zhongli rolls his eyes at the overzealous soldier. With a flick of his wrist, the geo wielder summons another shield to encompass Tartaglia as he lets loose on the battlefield. Though this time, Mona can see how the ex-Archon doesn’t let him out of his sight.

Childe switches to his melee style then. He forgoes his bow in favor of his hydro blades and launches forward while the mitachurl’s axe is stuck in Zhongli’s pillar.

Mona gasps, and a hand flies up to cover her mouth. Chongyun’s attention snaps to where she stands and gives her a once over to check for injuries. She waves him away, telling him to shut up even if he hadn’t said a word.

Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but the water Childe summons bends the sun’s rays a certain way until a very obvious, very crimson, very rare string of fate is revealed between Zhongli and Childe. It hangs between them languidly, but anytime either of them moves away too far, it’ll be pulled taut. They’re linked together by an invisible thread that Mona has only ever heard stories of; they were stories that spoke of a whimsical and eternal love that lasted liftimes and exceeded generations. The first time Mona had heard about it, she scoffed at the idea of having your partner chosen for you. But as she stands now, looking at Zhongli and Childe as they treat the battlefield as if it were a dance floor reserved for them, it felt almost illegal for either of them to be with anyone other than each other.

Her mind comes to a screeching halt when she realizes just how long Zhongli must have waited to meet him. Six thousand years, Mona ponders. But doesn’t the wait make the reconciliation all the more delicious?

Would you look at that, the astrologist thinks smugly, they’re tied by the pinkies.

It was never an accident, after all. These two souls, regardless of the six thousand year old gap between them, were meant to be together.

Oh, she has so much to tell Keqing when she gets back.

Lovely fanart!

My twitter!

#zhongchi #tartali #targlex chapis #Genshin Impact fanfiction #genshin impact #zhongli #childe #zhongli x childe #tartaglia #rex lapis #they're in loveeee #soulmates #red string of fate

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alixofagnia · 4 years ago

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OpheThorn III: Back to Rambling

The Memory of Babel…Wow.

If nothing else, this book GOES. We’re dropped onto Babel just as lost, bewildered, and determined as Ophelia to get to the bottom of this ark. Boy, was it worth the wait! Babel is exquisitely written and, incredible as it sounds, even more treacherous than the Pole. The backbone Ophelia shows in this book is awesome! I love that she’s taken the measure of her worth—all the things she’s been through and survived in the previous novels—and come out resilient As Fuck. This book is definitely a penultimate novel. Dazzling as it is, much of it feels like groundwork being laid for the finale.

OpheThorn is less nuanced and ambiguous in Babel. While I feel there’s less to analyze, I do really love this pairing and I like writing about their dynamic. So, I’m just going to put my thoughts down and see what comes up!

[There will be spoilers]

[All fanart images credited to @patricialyfoung]

Intro

One of the things that drew me into The Mirror Visitor series is the relationship between Ophelia and Thorn. Theirs is not a traditional love story at all; in fact, it avoids clichés and instead plays about with two romantic tropes: enemies to lovers and marriage of convenience. The series spins these tropes anew by offering subtle signs of attraction (discussed here) and giving both characters antisocial tendencies, as well as—in Thorn’s case—possible ASD traits (discussed here).

When we left these two in Clairdelune, Thorn had just put his feelings on the table. Before she could give her response, however, they were separated under upsetting, even traumatic circumstances. Years later, we meet Ophelia again…

Ophelia

…and, oh dear, she is in a sorry state indeed. We find her disastrously operating a waffle stand during a kooky Animist festival for, of all things, clocks. Just what the girl pining for Thorn needs, right? All is not well with Ophelia. As Aunt Rosaline points out,

“No, you’re not fine. You don’t go out anymore, you eat any old thing, you sleep at any old time. You haven’t even been back to the museum.” [19]

Although her mother, sister, and to an extent Aunt Rosaline all believe Ophelia is wasting away, shutting herself in her room, she’s actually been quite busy. She’s been studying and developing working hypotheses about God and the Other: where they are, there she’ll find Thorn. She’s convinced of it. Working from obscure clues dropped in Clairdelune, Ophelia settles on Babel as the ark most likely to yield some answers, and when the chance to travel there appears, she wastes no time at all.

She. Is. Going.

Thorn

In Babel, Thorn has made a name for himself as Sir Henry, rising to become a Lord of LUX, the gatekeepers of Babel who serve a similar function to that of the Doyennes on Anima. He is commanding, magnetic, and aloof as ever. It is unsurprising to find that he has been playing close to the fire again. But the stress and tension of his investigative life on Babel is certainly heightened in a way that it wasn’t at the Pole.

We also learn that his nickname in Babel is the Automaton due to his unceasing energy. Thorn, thus, has dealt with the separation by predictably burying himself in work.

The Reunion

To Ophelia’s disappointment, the reunion with Thorn does not go quite as she had envisioned, and that’s because she hadn’t really envisioned past the goal of finding him [203]. Ophelia is very much a character who takes things one at a time as she’s confronted by them. When Thorn seems less than pleased to see her, she must consider all these Troublesome Feelings and why his underwhelming reaction upsets her.

The thing is Ophelia is waiting for Thorn to take the lead. But he already did, and she didn’t follow—at least, not in a way that he could understand. As previously discussed, Thorn does not function well with non-verbal cues. He needs to be explicitly told how someone else feels, or how he is making someone else feel, in order to know when to adjust his behavior. That can be quite flustering, especially for someone like Ophelia who struggles to vocalize her feelings exactly as they are.

“Is that it?” Ophelia murmured. “You have nothing more to say to me?”

“I have, actually,” Thorn muttered, not stopping all his connecting. […] “And you?” he finally asked, in turn. “You have nothing more to say to me?” [263]

She doesn’t. Thorn coldly dismisses her and continues to keep her at arm’s length, especially when he gives her a second chance to confess her feelings and she still refuses to take it.

Ophelia has social anxiety. She’s not exactly shy, she just gets tongue-tied and befuddled sometimes. It’s part of her make-up, but it doesn’t just happen around Thorn—there are plenty of instances where she has trouble expressing herself to those she cares about, such as Ambrose and Blaise in this novel, or Fox in Clairdelune. She even struggles to express basic gratitude toward Aunt Rosaline in Promise. Unlike them, Thorn challenges her to uncomfortable levels. Her feelings for him are complex and utterly foreign; she has no idea what to do about them.

Unfortunately, Thorn is fresh out of fucks to give over her see-saw act. He’s well-past this stage of confusion and cowardice she’s experiencing because he’s been in love with Ophelia since Promise (“I’m starting to get used to you”) and dealt with the ramifications of that in Clairdelune (“I don’t give a damn whether people find me suspect, as long as I am not so in your eyes.”).

Thorn does nothing half-heartedly. In no uncertain terms, he left her with the bluntest of blunt confessions (“By the way, I love you.”), which was a milestone in his emotional growth. It is clear that he does not love frivolously or casually in the way of his foil, Archibald, so for him, nothing has changed in three years. Likely, he thinks this should be obvious to Ophelia, and it probably should be at this point. He’s done all he can, after all, what more can she want? From his perspective, it’s Ophelia’s turn to make a move, not his.

Ophelia, though, functions differently. She has always needed verbal reinforcement and reassurance. That need has been heightened by their long separation. Essentially, they’re out of touch with one another and, in Ophelia’s case, she’s completely out of touch with herself, which is why when prompted by Thorn she doesn’t provide an answer, even though there could be only one reason for her going to Babel. Things finally come to a head when Thorn loses all patience and replaces her as his assistant. Ophelia is pissed.

“You weren’t available. Waiting for you would have slowed me down in my research.”

“Slowed you down? For your information, I was also doing research of my own. It might interest you to learn…”

“Of your own, that’s precisely the problem,” he interrupted her. “I advised you never to leave your division, and you were supposed to warn me if you discovered anything new. Nothing has changed, you still always make your decisions alone.”

“I wanted to help you,” Ophelia hissed, through gritted teeth.

“I don’t want any of your finer feelings. I need efficiency. If you don’t mind, I now have a flight to take.”

Ophelia’s blood ignited in her every vein. “You’re an egoist.” She had wanted to anger Thorn, and she knew, by the way he had frozen on the spot, that she had succeeded. All the shadows of the night suddenly seemed to have been drawn to the center of his face. He threw Ophelia a look so hard, she reeled from its impact.

“I am demanding, a killjoy, obsessive, antisocial, and crippled,” he intoned, in a forbidding voice. “You can put all the defects in the world on me, but I will not permit you to call me an egoist. If you prefer to do things your way, go ahead, but don’t waste my time anymore. Our collaboration is over.” [305]

OMG, this is harsh. But it’s the kick in the ass Ophelia needs. Since taking up a secret identity as Eulalia and aspiring to become a Forerunner (essentially a scholar and a scribe), she’s already been confronted by the fact that she’s not as good a researcher as she’s prided herself on. Now, she’s being confronted by the suggestion that she’s not a very good partner, either. It leaves her feeling “drier than dust.” [321]

I think it’s interesting how Thorn’s dialogue here has a double meaning. He’s talking about their partnership as an investigative team, of course. But it just as easily applies to their personal relationship. He can’t keep waiting around for Ophelia to make up her mind. He’s got a God to hunt down, an Other to face. Having to wonder about where he stands with Ophelia is getting to be too much. By once again haranguing off on her own, Ophelia has made it plain to him that she prefers to do things without him. In his eyes, she’s pushing him away.

Eventually, she is able to see this perspective and she is ashamed to realize how badly she’s held Thorn to a double standard. He gave of himself through words and gestures as far as he was able, while she gave him nothing in return. Finally, FINALLY, Ophelia fully expresses her love for Thorn and, as he once did, asks him to forgive her shortcomings. It’s a very sweet scene, I must say.

Now, to go back for a moment, what’s really gutting about Ophelia calling Thorn an egoist is this:

“God said he would keep his eyes on you,” he muttered, in a choked voice. “Right in front of me. I make a lamentable husband, but I permit no one, particularly him, to persecute my wife. It’s impossible for me to tear you away from God, but I can tear him away from you. If a book exists that contains God’s secret, and allows his invulnerability to be punctured, I will find it.” [392]

For context, Ophelia had admonished Thorn for his dogged pursuit of this quest, expressing outrage that he should be doing this for a world that’s done nothing for him. At one time, yes, Thorn may have been acting in the interest of the world. Then, he met Ophelia (who is too curious for her own good) and he met God. God threatened her, and Thorn is not a man who could allow such a thing to go unpunished, no matter the consequence. Ever since they met—through every consideration, every move in this impossible investigation and despite each rejection from her—he’s been acting out of love for Ophelia.

As Thorn said, he is not an egoist.

The Blind Spot

After their “egoist” argument, Ophelia feels instant regret and tries to stop Thorn from walking away. She doesn’t succeed, however, because she is struck by his claws. At first, she believes he may have done this on purpose, the thought of which really scares her because it indicates that Thorn is absolutely done with her.

Later, after she finally makes her confession, we all learn that, in fact, Thorn has lost a bit of control over his family power. He has no idea that he used his claws on Ophelia. I’m a little bit unsure what caused this vulnerability—I don’t really follow the given reason, so I’m wondering if Thorn doesn’t quite know himself why this has come to be.

My theory is more euphemistic. Ophelia had reached out to touch his turned back and the gesture badly startled him. He overreacts then overcorrects, and they both take a memorable tumble. Thorn explains:

“Never again accost me from behind my back or from any of my blind spots. Don’t do any movement that I can’t see coming in advance, or then warn me out loud.” [389]

He further explains that he can retain control as long as his claws don’t perceive her as a threat and asks her not to be absent-minded with him. I think it’s entirely plausible that his control over his Dragon power has weakened due to his deep emotion regarding Ophelia. I also feel that this speaks closely to their recent conflict as well as Thorn’s coding as autistic. It’s like Thorn is saying, “No more hide and seek. No more games. Tell me straight, or not at all.”

Ophelia knows how deep his passions run. She once held his dice and thought she might die under the weight and intensity of his emotions. Perhaps it is her Animism that has wrought this change in him. Perhaps it is simply her existence. Either way, she can no longer afford to be careless when it comes to Thorn’s feelings. In the final chapter, Ophelia and Thorn have a true heart to heart, reaffirming their partnership. But Thorn has something to add.

“No half-measures,” he interrupted her. “I’m not and do not wish to be your friend.” [445]

What he leaves unspoken is that he wants to be her husband, in every version of the role: Partner. Protector. Lover. Now that Ophelia has given him an answer, Thorn is comfortable leading them forward and it is the role of lover that he specifically has in mind. Considering this is probably the first time he’s ever propositioned a woman for sex, he is understandably quite awkward. Ophelia quickly realizes that she’s added to his inner turmoil by repressing her own sexuality around him and inadvertently making him feel less than attractive. She also understands that she, too, wants to be his wife in every version of that role: Partner. Protector. Lover. What follows is a really beautiful expression of honest acceptance and true value.

Desire

My dudes, our girl is constantly at risk of exploding (or maybe imploding?) with desire in this book. It’s consuming her, emptying her, and driving every atom of her being. Look at this!

Ophelia had received no news from Thorn after his escape. Not a single telegram, not a single letter. She could keep telling herself that he couldn’t run the risk of making contact, that he was a man wanted by the law, perhaps by God himself, but it was eating her up inside. [22]

Whenever she crossed a man who was a bit taller than average, she couldn’t stop herself from looking back as she passed, with a frantic pounding in her chest. [83]

Ophelia would have recognized his voice out of a thousand. The resonance of a double bass, solemn and sullen, that echoed through her inner emptiness, shook her to the core, welled up to her throat, choked her. [240]

She waited until her heartbeat, taxed by the run, had returned to normal. But it didn’t happen. Her entire flesh seemed to be pulsating to a single chaotic rhythm. This evening, she would see Thorn again. [249]

She wanted to be with Thorn right there, right now. She’d wanted that every second of every minute of every hour, for almost three years. [249]

Although she knew the temperature of this place was strictly maintained at minus eight degrees, Ophelia felt as if it were fifteen degrees warmer. Never in her life had she cared about appearances, and yet she ran a nervous hand through her hair to tidy it up. [253]

She suddenly realized that there wasn’t much she would have refused him, had he but asked. [278]

Instead, he disinfected his hands for a second time, as if they really were repulsive. They weren’t in Ophelia’s eyes. From a distance, she took in the network of veins under the skin, the long, curved fingers, the bone that rose up on each wrist, and suddenly, she felt something like pain in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t the slightest idea what was happening to her, but looking at those hands made her want to scream. [283]

She felt it again, even more violently, this urgent call from deep inside her. [446]

Ophelia is so horny and I’m so here for it!

Closing Thoughts

Do I think Ophelia’s internal conflict over Thorn is drawn out? Yes.

Do I think it’s contrived? No.

I think it falls in line with Ophelia’s characterization and I think Thorn’s frosty reaction to her presence in Babel falls in line with his characterization. These characters aren’t perfect: Ophelia is quirky and endearing, but that doesn’t make her immune to cowardice; Thorn is highly skilled and competent but is deficient socially and sometimes emotionally. I can’t emphasize enough how well Christelle Dabos knows her characters and allows them to be who they are rather than force them to make weird changes to fill plot holes.

We can’t forget, either, the fact that they have been completely cut off from one another for years. Yes, we might think in that time Ophelia could have done more to sort out her feelings. But as we’ve seen, she just doesn’t focus on more than what she can handle at a time. She always thinks in terms of breaking a problem down into steps. The first step was following up on those clues from Claridelune. The second step was finding Thorn. The last step was dealing with herself.

Their relationship here, which has progressed in a way that felt natural and believable, is the most straightforward it has ever been. That made writing about them this time around kind of hard, actually, because it’s all plainly there in the text. For me, I think the notable takeaway is being able to mark just how far these two characters have come in their individual and mutual journeys. Now and together, they can tackle the gargantuan, perilous task ahead. It might all end on a bittersweet note. But for this couple…that seems about right, and I can’t wait to read the conclusion.

Thank you so much for reading these long posts and leaving such kind feedback! I’m glad that you, too, enjoy Ophelia, Thorn, and this magical series.

#ophethorn #the mirror visitor #La Passe-Miroir #the memory of babel #la memoire de babel #christelle dabos #long book report #slow burn romance

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carmenxjulia · 4 years ago

Photo

I put together a transcript of the 1 hour Q&A Interview the Carmen Sandiego Discord did with Abby Trott (Ivy) and Rafael Petardi (Chase Devineaux). All of the questions were submitted by server members. You can read everything below the break!

PizzaHorse:

Hello everyone! Please welcome Abby Trott and Rafael Petardi to our Q&A today.

Abby Trott:

Hiiiiiiiiiii!

Rafael Petardi:

Hello Bonjour!

PizzaHorse:

Let's get started. How did you get started as a voice actor? Was there anything that inspired you to pursue it as a career?

Abby Trott:

Oh MAN. Long story.

Rafael Petardi:

Mine is very short. I'm an actor and my agent started sending me on voice auditions and eventually I booked some!

Abby Trott:

This is a novel so I started typing it ahead of time, haha. I was an acting/theater major, and when I graduated from college I moved to Japan on the JET program to teach English because I wanted to travel so freakin' badly. I had never even been on an airplane. I was placed in rural Akita, (inaka), and absolutely LOVED it. The only problem was I wanted to be and actor/singer… womp womp. At that time, I also started to mess around with characters and voices - I would record voice memos and conversations with myself while driving around. One day, a friend was in the car and my phone was on shuffle and one of my "scenes" started playing - I was absolutely MORTIFIED. But that moment solidified for me that I need to move to the big ole city if I wanted to really pursue acting. I ended up heading to Tokyo, where I performed in children's musicals, and did other gigs here and there. That's where I started doing VO professionally! I was able to do some character voices for the shows I was in, and some other side projects. I realized how much I loved VO, and eventually decided to move back to the States to pursue it, since most English VO for games and animation is produced here.

When I moved back, I started searching online for VoiceOver opportunities, and stumbled across a contest hosted by Bang Zoom! Entertainment. I BARELY got my entry in on time. The contest took place over several months, and in the meantime, I moved to NYC and started taking VO classes. For the finale of the contest, they flew me to LA. I ended up winning! Still can't believe it. (O-O) I got to dub my first anime "Miss Monochrome," and realized that if I wanted to work in games and animation, I should probably move to LA… and the I DID.

THE END

PizzaHorse:

What do you think are the best and worst things about being a voice actor?

Abby Trott:

Oooh. The worst things? Job insecurity... constant rejection...

Rafael Petardi:

The incredibly talented and cool people you meet and work with.

What Abby said

Abby Trott:

The best things? Working with amazing people, AND it's so much fun - even auditioning is fun!

PizzaHorse:

How did you land your role on the show?

Rafael Petardi:

I auditioned

Got the job

pretty boring I know

Abby Trott:

I auditioned through my agency, and got a callback. I went to the callback and their note was "more Boston." Then I had a second callback and their note was "even MORE Boston." So I went WICKED BOSTON and got the job

PizzaHorse:

What was your favorite/the most fun thing to record (episode/scene/line)? Any least favorites?

Rafael Petardi:

For me, the funnest scenes to record are the ones I got to play opposte the incredibly talented cast.

The least favorite... did not have enough scenes with the Wonderful Abby Trott

Abby Trott:

Awww Rafe! Singing was the MOST FUN! The Karaoke Ep, and the choose-your-own adventure one, where we got to sing the theme! Mikey (Zack) was cracking me up constantly.

Least favorite was the last ep because I didn't want it to eeeeeend

PizzaHorse:

Were you allowed to suggest lines to be said by your character, or improvise the script at all if you thought something would add to the scene?

Abby Trott:

YUP! And Mikey and I definitely did, hahaa. It was encouraged. Always fun to see what they keep...

Rafael Petardi:

Yes we were. I improvised mostly sounds and noises. Words once in a while but not very often. Thank God for Duane

PizzaHorse:

What was the hardest part of voicing your character on Carmen Sandiego? Was there a particular episode that was difficult to record?

Rafael Petardi:

Keeping the consistency episode to episode of the Chase's accent, pitch and energy

I did not want hime to sound different ever

Abby Trott:

I think the hardest part was keeping up the EXTREME Boston accent. But it was also SUPER fun...

PizzaHorse:

What traits do you share or have in common with the character you play?

Rafael Petardi:

I am like Chase in the sense of a Dog with a Bone. If I get pasionate about something, I go to extremes. Abby Trott has scene this for example in my bread making endeavors

Also, I'm an idiot in life too sometimes

Abby Trott:

Ivy and I are both... from Mass! we both have brothers who we argue with but really do love when it comes down to it. We love chocolate, aaaaand... I think we're both brave. (brag?)

Can confirm Rafe is v. passionate about bread. And and idiot.

Rafael Petardi:

All True

PizzaHorse:

What character on the show would you voice if you had the chance?

Abby Trott:

Chase

Rafael Petardi:

I would love Maelstrom

Abby Trott:

Jk... Coach Brunt seems SUPER fun

PizzaHorse:

If you could meet a character from Carmen Sandiego in real life, who would it be and why?

Abby Trott:

Carmen! she is the coooooleeest. I'd ask her to teach me some tricks

Rafael Petardi:

Julie Argent. She's cute

PizzaHorse:

Which character do you think you are most like or that you most identify with?

Rafael Petardi:

CHASE

I think that's partly why we're doing the roles we do

Abby Trott:

I think Ivy, for real! Casting was ON IT. I can be serious when I need to be, but I'm a giant goofball (if you couldn't tell from my latest tweet/insta post...)

PizzaHorse:

Who is your favorite character, other than your own?

Abby Trott:

Mime. Bomb.

Rafael Petardi:

Other than my own? Hmmm... uuuh... mmmm. tough...

Abby Trott:

Seriously, I think Mime bomb is hilarious.

Rafael Petardi:

Yes Mime Bomb!

PizzaHorse:

Do you wish your character had more interactions with another character in particular?

Rafael Petardi:

Yes, I would love to interact with Ivy and Maelstrom

I think the interaction would be odd and awkward and funny

Abby Trott:

Yes. I would love to see how Ivy handles the specific VILE members... I would love to see IVY try to go to VILE academy...

PizzaHorse:

Are there any themes or lessons from the series that you would want people to remember?

Rafael Petardi:

yes, don't jump to conclusions and be an idiot

Abby Trott:

Yes! That! also, don't be evil. ALSO also, be loyal to your friends.

PizzaHorse:

Do you ever look at fan content?

Rafael Petardi:

yes all the time. It helps when I'm tagged rafaelPetardi on Instagram

Abby Trott:

Yes! I look at fanart sometimes, and see what cosplays are happenin'

Rafael Petardi:

I've posted many as well

Abby Trott:

Haven't read much fanfic... but I know it's out there.

PizzaHorse:

What did you think about your character's development and arc throughout the series?

Rafael Petardi:

I absolutely loooooooved Chase's arc

Love redemption stuff

he was just misguided

just was alway his thing

Abby Trott:

I love Ivy's journey - she really grew up, from a troubled kid to an adult, accepting responsibility and accepting new challenges. Donning the hat, if you will.

Rafael Petardi:

*justice as always his thing

PizzaHorse:

How do you feel now that Carmen Sandiego is at its end?

Rafael Petardi:

sad. miss evrybody so much

we will have to have a cast reunion when this pandemic thing is over

Abby Trott:

SAD! But grateful. It was THE MOST fun to record, and I wish it could continue forever.

Rafael Petardi:

I'm grateful too. yes

Abby Trott:

and YES reunion!

PizzaHorse:

Yesss can't wait for that group photo to pop up on social media!

Were there any moments in the series that had you legitimately emotional?

Rafael Petardi:

yes ofcourse

losing Julia was tough

Abby Trott:

A lot. But one that stands out for me is after Carmen gets stuck out in the snow, and is reunited with her crew. (:_;). Also the stuff with Shadowsan and his brother... and anything with baby Carmen...

Gah. So many...

PizzaHorse:

Did you enjoy how the show ended? Is there anything you would have changed or would have liked to see more of?

Rafael Petardi:

I loved the way the show ended! I think Duane did a fantastic job tying loose ends and bring the story to a satisfactory close for all characters

I do hope for an ACME Ivy, Zak, Julia and Chase spin-off

Abby Trott:

I love how it ends. I think it wrapped so well considering the number of eps - the writers really got it done. I WISH Ivy and Zack could follow Carmen forever, but she has her own story to unravel it would seem.

And Ivy does look good in that suit let me tell ya

PizzaHorse:

Can you share a favorite behind the scenes moment?

Abby Trott:

Mikey. Is. So. Funny. Hard to choose one moment - he would make me laugh harder than anything. Especially when we were singing. Or any time he had to gag...

Rafael Petardi:

OMG!

That singing stuff we had to do together was hilarious

we could not stop laughinh

PizzaHorse:

What, in your opinion, are the best pizza toppings?

Abby Trott:

Cheese. Caramelized onions. Roasted garlic. Spinach. Mushrooms.

Rafael Petardi:

buffala mozzarella and tomatos period

oooooo fancy Abby

Abby Trott:

Rafe why aren't you as obsessed with pizza as you are with bread? And can you be?

Rafael Petardi:

I am

Abby Trott:

Rafael Petardi:

I just don;t like to share pizza

PizzaHorse:

Here's a specific question for Rafael. Did you sometimes get mad at your own character for the way he behaved towards Julia earlier on in the Series?

And one for Abby. As a Massachusetts native, how did you feel about voicing a character from Boston with the iconic accent?

Rafael Petardi:

I did not. I always felt, however misguided Chase was, he was always on the path of turth and justice no matter what was in his way. It's the same principals that led hin to see the truth about Julia

*principles

Abby Trott:

I think it's so cool, and kind of an honor, in a way. I was worried about it being too much, and people saying it's over the top. Turns out comedy wins, haha.

PizzaHorse:

Were you familiar with the older animated series when you started work on the Netflix original?

Rafael Petardi:

I never heard of Carmen Sandiego before I did this series

Abby Trott:

Yes! I had seen a bit. I also remember watching my brother play the game. Someone gifted me a mini arcade version of the game this year, and I'm excited to play :slight_smile:

Rafael Petardi:

Which I think helped when I had to say the iconic line

"Where in th world..." there was no pressure

LoL

Abby Trott:

LOL

PizzaHorse:

Okay, last question. Do you have a favorite quote from the show?

Abby Trott:

"La Femme Rouge!"

or Mime Bomb's classic "..."

Rafael Petardi:

"the game is over!"

PizzaHorse:

Woohoo!

Abby Trott:

Hooray!

PizzaHorse:

Thank you so much Rafael Petardi and Abby Trott for joining us today! I hope everybody had a wicked awesome time.

Abby Trott:

Thanks for having us! What a pleasure.

Rafael Petardi:

It was great! Thank you to all the great questions.

Abby Trott:

Thanks for watching the show! Great questions. I'm sure I'm going to think of more quotes as soon as I log off... haha.

Rafael Petardi:

See you all soon!

Abby Trott:

Stay safe, take care, and see you all on various social media platforms!

#Carmen Sandiego #Ivy #Chase Devineaux #CS Crew #Rafael Petardi #Abby Trott #Carmen Sandiego Discord #Carmen Sandiego Discord Server #Interview #Transcript

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onedoodleaday · 4 years ago

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Review of 6 creative prompt books

Can't get enough prompts? I sure can't! I have a horrible urge to buy any and all books I see that have any sort of theme related to creative prompts, and I've amassed quite the collection over the years.

Today, I'm going to review some of them!

All of the following books are meant to be drawn in directly, which (at least ideally) makes them very satisfying to leaf through once you've worked in them for a while.

I will be making a separate post showcasing how I've personally used each book and link to it here, in case any if them pique your interest and you'd like to know more (coming soon!)

Books I am reviewing:

365 days of art by Lorna Scobie (⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️▪️ Four out of five stars)

642 things to draw by chronicle books (⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ five out of five stars)

642 fashion things to draw by Chronicle Books (⭐️⭐️⭐️▪️▪️ Three out of five stars)

Doodle a day by Chris Riddell (⭐️⭐️⭐️▪️▪️ three out of five stars)

Hirameki: Draw what you see by Peng and Hu (⭐️⭐️▪️▪️▪️ two out of five stars)

Illistration by Jaime Zollars (⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️▪️ four out of five stars)

Warning: this is a very long post

365 days of art

By Lorna Scobie

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️▪️ Four out of five stars

What I like about it:

There's a great variety of prompts in this one. The prompts are mostly simple and straightforward, with space for doing your own thing. Most of the exercises also happen to appeal to me personally.

The prompts are designed for being able to be completed quite quickly, which makes them very accessible for me, and of course, you can get more elaborate with them if you have the time and energy (I've spent the last five days adding details to fish, just because I wanted to).

The author uses the foreword to encourage you to use the book in whatever way you personally find the most fun, which I appreciate.

Most of the prompts feel like they're focusing on practice rather than results, which means it's open for all skill levels to enjoy.

Criticism:

While I do hold that this book can work for artists of all skill levels, it does have prompts that are meant to teach you something, and while I like some of them, there are some that feel targeted towards either less experienced artists, or artists who has, or strives towards, a similar art style to that of the author. A couple of times, I have felt that my art style did not match the exercise set up, and while I still managed to have fun with them, I did wish there were more space for (in my case) a more realistic art style.

On a similar note, there are sections geared towards calligraphy, and they start at the very basics. While I personally am a beginner, I can imagine that someone with experience would find these bits both boring and redundant.

I will also mention that the book does encourage the use of different kinds of media, so you either have to be ready to break out some different tools or bend the prompts a bit if all you have is a pencil.

Recommended for beginner and intermediate artists, people who really like prompt books. Good for a little bit of daily practice with many different styles of art. Good for people who like patterns and colours in their art.

Recommended tools: brush pen, water-based paint, coloured pencils

642 things to draw

By chronicle books

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ five out of five stars

Of all the prompt books I have, this is my favorite. Hands down.

What I like about it:

This book is just prompts. No hand-holding, no presets for what to do with it, they just give you something to draw and you go from there. All you need is a pencil and your imagination. There are both straightforward prompts (a bottle opener, a spool of thread) and more abstract ones (girlish laughter, head in the clouds) and the variety means I usually find at least one prompt I want to do on each spread.

The differing sizes dedicated to each prompt make for a really fun and pleasing result.

I also appreciate that this book is completely open to all skill levels, as long as you're willing to give a go at drawing a lot of different things.

Criticism:

While I personally adore the to-the-point, straightforward prompts, I do acknowledge that, unless you enjoy just drawing random objects, you're going to need to add some creativity on your own, in how you incorporate the prompts. I personally like adding either character interaction or to use the object as part of a scene, especially for the things I don't find super visually interesting on their own. I personally enjoy the level of thinking, but I'm sure there are people who don't.

I also don't know if I would have enjoyed it as much when I was just starting out. I’ve always been quite result-based with my art, and while I think using reference to draw all the different things in the book would be an amazing skill-building exercise, it also sounds like a lot of work.

There are also a handful of pop culture references and prompts for famous people, which I personally prefer to avoid, because those are often based on social knowledge and interest, of which I personally have neither.

Recommended for artists of all skill levels, people who either have a big visual library or would like to build one. Recommended for people who like to draw a lot of different things.

Recommended materials: anything! Can be used with just a pencil

642 fashion things to draw

By Chronicle Books

⭐️⭐️⭐️▪️▪️ Three out of five stars

This one was actually my first prompt book ever! The start of a hoard, one might say.

What I like about it:

This one is another one by Chronicle Books, in the same series. This one is really fun if you like drawing clothes, and/or your art is character oriented. Of all my prompt books, this one has the best potential for fanart, in my opinion. If you like drawing people and characters, this book is really fun

Criticism:

This one is, quite understandably, more specific. If you like drawing clothes, this one is ideal. If you don't ... don't pick this one.

I was close to giving this one four stars, but I will withdraw a star for being very specifically tailored to one subject -- this could be a five star book for some people and a one-star for others.

Another thing I want to mention is that this book gets specific. I have to look up what about a third of the prompts mean. I'm okay with that, but if you don't want to do research and don't already know what a jaquard blouse or peplum waist skirt or houndstooth is, this is not the book for you.

Lastly, it has a good handful of both pop culture references and references to different brands, which is kind of alienating to me personally. It also assumes that you yourself care about your own clothes to some extent. And that you have at least one father and one mother. Who got married at some point. And your mom wore a wedding dress. Things like that.

Also my copy is from 2013 and let's just say some of the references have aged very poorly. ("D*nald Tr*mp power suit" being a very notable example. I drew him impaled on a stick. Which was satisfying. But it was very much an act of rebellion so keep it in mind)

Recommended for anyone who likes drawing clothes and the people wearing them, who are also willing to put up with a certain amount of heteronormativity in their prompt books. Some skill level will probably make the book more enjoyable. Clothes are hard.

Recommended materials: Anything! You can use this one with just a pencil

Doodle a day

By Chris Riddell

⭐️⭐️⭐️▪️▪️ three out of five stars

(Note: I own a translated version of the book; this is the danish cover)

Before we start, I would like to note that this book's target demographic is children. I’m not a children, I just thought it looked fun. And I was right! But do keep it in mind.

What I like about it:

This one doesn't take itself too seriously. Which means that in places, it gets wacky. And I appreciate that. It expects a child's untamed creativity and wish to go along with whatever.

A lot of the prompts are really fun and inspiring for me as an adult. There are a lot of "complete this drawing" sort of things that get me to draw things I don't usually draw.

It's nice to see a book geared towards children that dares to have a very detailed and complex art style. Whether you personally like Chris Riddell's art style is very subjective, but he's good at what he does.

Criticism:

You have to enjoy drawing along with what the author enjoys. We're talking robots and fairy tales and dancing bears. This book has less room for letting you steer the prompts in a direction that you personally like, which is good if you like to be told exactly what to draw. It is less good if, like me, you prefer your prompt-based art to have space for a lot of your own creativity and preferences.

I've personally marked down the prompts I want to do with tape, and I'm planning to just plain skip the rest. This means about two thirds of the book that I'm just not planning on using. I'm okay with this! But I want to mention it.

The book also contains quite a lot of 'free days', which I always find disappointing. I came here specifically because I didn't want to make up my own stuff. Please. Tell me what to do, I beg of you.

I will also note that this book assumes that you have some sort of family that are present in your life to the point that you want to include them in your drawings, and that you have at least one friend who wants to partake in certain of the prompts.

It also assumes cultural Christianity, having prompts for easter and christmas and halloween and so forth, with no other holidays mentioned. It's a little uncomfortable.

Recommended for people who like silly prompts and are very adaptable in their art. Probably really good for younger kids? I was a weird child, so my point of view might be skewed. Decide for yourself if this book is worth getting for you or someone you know!

Recommended materials: something to draw with, and something to colour with.

Hirameki: Draw what you see

By Peng and Hu

⭐️⭐️▪️▪️▪️ two out of five stars

The classic exercise of using vague blobs and turning them into drawings

What's I like about it:

The concept is really good. The idea of having a whole book of printed blobs to turn into drawings is so fun and appealing to me, as someone who loves having things in books.

I really like that they have certain categories and themes, to make things a little different. I love the idea of having a theme for a whole page of blobs (turning everything on one page into birds, for example), and what made me get the book was specifically that they have pages with just the same blob ten times over, and the challenge is then to make them all into different things.

Criticism:

This book is the marketable brand flavor of prompt books, trying to be what mindful colouring books did, but with another concept, preferably in a way they can copyright.

They're clearly trying to make pattern-making into a marketable invention rather than something that has been around since, like, literal prehistoric times. This would be little more than annoying and could probably be ignored, if it wasn't for the fact that the blobs aren't even ... random.

The creativity is killed, because these blobs are clearly made to look like certain things. Which is the opposite of the point, of the shapes-in-randomness exercise. They don't do this with every page, but it is, like. More than half. The page dedicated to faces have defined noses and necks. There’s a beach themed spread and the crabs have defined pincers.

I had the most fun on the intro pages, where there were no prompts, because that was the place where the blobs were truly random. These were not meant to be drawn on! They were decorations! I just did it anyway!

This is branded to be something that will allow you to be creative, but in reality, it is actually just a different way of playing connect-the-dots. And there's nothing wrong with connect-the-dots, but I was advertised something else and I'm disappointed.

Also, this is personal pettiness, but if you're going to make a gimmick out of every prompt rhyming, you have to actually know how to rhyme. "Gadget" and "uplug it" do not rhyme! Not even by a stretch!

I cannot recommend this book. The idea is good, and some of the pages I did enjoy filling out, but I would have gotten more out of just grabbing a blank sketchbook and adding some ink blots to every page, then started from one end.

Recommended materials: They specifically say that you have to use a pen that’s either blue or black. I used a bright red one just to be a contrarian.

Illistration

By Jaime Zollars

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️▪️ four out of five stars

This one is a little different -- it is essentially a make-your-own-prompts book!

What I like about it:

This book appeals right to my need to be part of the process, even when drawing for prompts. Basically, this book is all about producing creative lists of things to draw, and then illustrating your favorites.

I love how the author talks you through their process of creating each individual list to suit their own preferences, and encourages you to do the same, to create prompts that appeal directly to you.

I also really appreciate that this book fully assumes that the reader is just as capable as the author. It wants to teach you something, sure, but it doesn't outright assume that you've got more or less experience than the author. They're teaching you one specific way of generating ideas and that's what matters. The author is confident, but humble. I like that.

Criticism:

Honestly, this is a wonderful book. I wouldn't change anything about it. The only reason I subtracted a star is because it falls a little bit outside the category of a prompt book. It's a five-star book for what it is, but if you're just here to be told what to draw without having to make stuff up on your own, this one is not for you.

I can't just pull this one out, open it up and start drawing -- using this book is a project. I have to do at least half of the work myself, if not more. And I personally have fun with that, but it has to be noted.

Recommended for artists of any skill level, who like to generate their own unique ideas. This is the one I would be most likely to recommend to a dedicated artist, or a professional.

Recommended materials: whatever you prefer to draw with, and something to write with.

-------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading!

If you found this review helpful and want to fund me and my constant purchasing of prompt books, you can tip me on TheNearsightedMicroraptor on Ko-fi!

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multimilfs · 4 years ago

Text

Eda Clawthorne x Fem!Reader: Tasks

Summary: queenlittlebear23 requested “Could you do something involving the reader having ADHD or just tics in general?”

AO3

A/N: I’m not very familiar with tics and didn’t want to mess anything up since I was unfamiliar, so I mainly focused on the ADHD aspect. I hope that was alright!

Warning(s): None

“Woah, what is all of this?” Eda asked curiously.

After a long day of being out running the stand, she came back to the Owl House, excited to spend some time snuggled up in the nest. Upon entering the bedroom though, she noticed a bunch of half written-on pieces of paper and you buried under a mountain of blankets.

“Welcome to comfy mountain.” You sing-songed from underneath all of the blankets, making her grin.

“Comfy mountain?” She asked with a raised eyebrow, though there was an unmissable grin on her face.

“Yup! Join me, oh great Owl Lady!”

Before Eda left that morning, you’d made a list of things that you wanted to accomplish that day. You’d started off strong, getting some of your things put away, before you’d become completely uninterested in all of it. Despite your best intentions, your phone had been calling your name.

You’d recently started a new series and it had quickly wormed its way into every corner of your brain. All you wanted to do was read fanfiction or scroll through fanart on social media. So when the boredom of your tasks had set in, you’d settled into the nest and did just that; effectively finishing three fanfictions and none of your other tasks.

None of them were especially important, so getting them finished wasn’t a pressing issue. You felt horrible about not accomplishing them though. Eda coming home helped improve your mood, though.

“Well, don’t mind if I do.” Eda said before flopping down next to you.

You lifted some of the blankets, offering up the free space next to yourself to her. She wasted no time in taking the offered spot. A smile settled onto your face when she cuddled up next to you, wrapping her arms securely around your waist.

“What did you get up to today?” She asked softly, resting her head on the pillow next to your’s.

“Well, I um, I read three fanfictions,” You started slowly, “Which isn’t really… productive, but I crossed two things off of my to-do list!”

“Two? Hey, that’s great!” Eda said, pride evident in her voice.

You’d told her about your ADHD and how sometimes you just couldn’t do something, even if you needed to. It was hard for you to do anything that you weren’t especially interested in. She took the information in stride, making sure to make it known how proud she was of you everytime you got something accomplished in spite of your executive dysfunction.

“I wish I could have done a few more, but I’m really glad I got those done, at least.” You said softly, feeling like you needed to brush off the praise. Eda was having none of it.

“Doing two of them is great, sweetheart. It may not seem like a lot, but if it took so much energy, then it was a lot more than you think. I’m really proud of what you accomplished today.” The witch said softly, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple.

Though your brain wanted to argue against her thoughts, you wouldn’t let it. You pushed away all of the negativity it was trying to feed you. Instead, you focused on the happiness you felt in this moment, being held by Eda. In those bad moments, she was always there to make it better. The joy you felt when you were around her was sometimes hard to contain.

Noticing that her breathing had evened out, you thought it was probably a good idea to join her. Pressing a loving kiss to her forehead, you plugged your phone in, before turning and snuggling into her arms. You fell asleep easily, wrapped in the love of your favorite witch.

#edalyn clawthorne #eda x reader #the owl house #eda clawthorne #the owl house x reader #eda the owl lady #eda clawthorne imagine #the owl house imagine #wlw #wlw imagine #eda clawthorne x fem reader #oct2020 #multimilfswritings

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insfiringyou · 4 years ago

Text

BTS - Going Solo (Part One) - Jimin x Ara

Contains: Angst. *Potential trigger warning for descriptions of panic attacks*

Set a few months following their scene in ‘Private Moments’, Ara is faced with a decision which will change the course of her future.

(Part Two will be uploaded soon, after a few fics focusing on some of the other members.)

You can find out more about our headcanon universe and ongoing storyline here and more about our headcanon girlfriends here.

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM / Jin / Suga / J-Hope / Jimin / V / Jungkook & our full masterlist of fanart and fanfictions can be found here

If you wish to follow all member’s storylines in chronological order from the beginning, you can find them listed here.

Content below the cut

‘Jimin,

We just spoke, and you asked if I was happy. I think I am. At least most days.’

Ara typed slowly. Her nails had just been manicured and were longer than she was used to. The sound of acrylics against the keyboard rang through the small hotel room.

‘When I’m with you I can feel really happy. You can be so sweet and loving and I appreciate you always check up on me - to make sure I’m okay. Touring is hard. You know it better than anybody else, and you tried to prepare me for it.’

She gave a soft sigh, knowing no one else would hear. The words were spilling out of her fingers before her brain had time to catch up, though she knew based on experience she would eventually work out what she was trying to say. The room was dark and the white glow from the word document was starting to make her eyes water. The contact lenses had been in all day and were getting on her nerves. Still, she persevered. She could remove them once she had finished.

‘I’ve been asked to renew my contract.’

She stopped typing, heart thudding, and realised she felt scared. Her hand moved automatically to her stomach and she exhaled slowly before taking a deep, drawn out breath. She had been practicing and it had gotten easier. At first she would panic, and find her chest rising and falling like crazy, on the verge of hyperventilation, but soon she learned the trick; it was her stomach which was supposed to be moving, not her chest. Her cheeks were a little warm and she knew it was shame she was feeling, not embarrassment. She hadn’t told him yet, despite having known for over a week. Tentatively, she continued, fingers picking up speed as she became used to the sensation of the new nails.

‘You remember me telling you the first was on a trial basis, based on sales. Well - whatever target they set for us, we must have hit it. Even you have noticed the increase in publicity lately...the T.V appearances. They’ve asked me to film a reality show. I don’t know what they’re expecting.’

Her brow furrowed, wondering...

‘I guess they might have asked you too?’

The laptop stayed silent for a long time and she rested her hands against the small, cheap desk as she gazed at the screen. Her mind suddenly seemed blank and she felt stupid. She would never send the document to Jimin, just as she hadn’t sent the ones she had written before; three month’s worth of unopened, worthless ramblings saved in some obscure folder on her desktop, trapped in the harddrive somewhere between her acoustic recordings and photographs of hairstyles she had saved from Pinterest. She often wondered why she even bothered to save them. Her counsellor had told her, time and time again, that keeping a diary would be helpful. She could record her mood swings and track her periods, along with keeping count of what she ate; wholegrains made her bloated, red food colourings brought out a rash. She sometimes worried she might be lactose intolerant, though could handle it in coffee. That type of thing. She kept it up at first; bashfully bringing the sparkly diary into the small office she visited once a month and reciting what she had written to the man opposite. He would nod sympathetically as she spoke, making a comment from time to time; asking how she felt about what she had put. But the company was paying him to do this; all the girls went, and she sometimes wondered if it was the food diary he was really interested in. If her manager was keeping track, making sure she and the other members were not overdoing it on the full-fat salad dressing and milky lattes.

The diary entries began to dwindle and, not long after her last week-long visit back to Seoul, the meaningless letters on her laptop started. They were usually addressed to Jimin, though she had written several to her father and one to her brother. She wasn’t good with words; she had been told that often enough at school when she would have to read out loud from the book of the week in Literature, or come up with an argument in Business Studies. Her mouth would stumble and she’d turn red, both ashamed and humiliated, until the teacher inevitably took pity on her and told her to sit back down. Writing in private was much easier, especially when she knew no one but her would see.

‘I don’t know how to feel.’

The cursor hovered, blinking at the end of the last line. There was a heavy knock at the door and Ara jumped, hands automatically reaching for the laptop lid, before a familiar female voice called out.

“Ara? Are you coming?”

She quickly gathered herself, clicking the save icon at the top of the screen. The company had arranged a group meal in the restaurant downstairs, though she had forgotten, her mind distracted by more pressing thoughts.

“In a minute…I just need to change my lenses.” She called back, moving her finger against the touchpad as a pop-up appeared. She selected the save button once more, mouth twisting as she read the title in the little window: ‘Untitled #12.’ She wondered if she would ever get around to renaming them properly.

***

“Your hair has so much texture. I wish mine were thicker.”

Ara murmured in reply before catching the young stylist’s reflection in the mirror and realising how rude she must have sounded. Da-eun had come to the company some months before and was undeniably sweet. Too sweet, Ara sometimes thought, for the business she was in. The other makeup artists and hairdressers loved to keep one ear to the wall, in case there was a chance of promotion or, she rather cynically suspected, a way to increase their pay by selling gossip, but Da-eun didn’t seem like that. At least not yet.

After a moment’s hesitation, Ara smiled into the glass at the figure behind her. “I’m glad I have you to do it for me. The roots are a nightmare!”

Da-eun returned the smile and seemed to relax, but a curious expression still played on her features as she ran the straightener gently across the dyed tips of hair. “Are you tired?”

“I didn’t get much sleep.” Ara confirmed, briefly closing her eyes. Da-eun knew not to press her, but she couldn’t help but worry the younger woman might know more than she was letting on. They had shared hotel rooms in the past and, perhaps it was the stylist's instinct, used to paying close attention to detail, but she always seemed to tell when something was amiss. It was frustrating sometimes.

“I looked at the schedule. You’re not going on set until last so you’ll have time to rest before you go out.” Da-eun murmured helpfully. Ara nodded, relieved. It occurred to her, not for the first time, that Da-eun should quit while she could; while she was still young and hopeful and kind.

“I just don’t have the energy right now…” Ara sighed as she felt her hair being released. The younger woman finished working the ends and unplugged the device from the dressing room table.

“Did you sign the contract yet?”

Her voice was inquisitive and a little optimistic. Ara had never asked, but there was always the chance that Da-eun’s contract was somehow tied to her own; that if the group were to disband, she might lose her job. Ara shook her head lightly.

“No.”

Da-eun raised an eyebrow. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“I just haven’t had time to read it properly.” She said, truthfully. “It’s come around sooner than I thought…”

The stylist moved forward, reaching for the set of hairbrushes on the counter, before selecting the biggest. She teased through the ends of hair with her short fingers before brushing lightly along the bleached roots, smoothing the locks.

“There’s been rumours.” The younger woman said, voice suddenly low as though she were worried about being overheard. A thick curtain set apart the dressing room from the photography studio, but it was always possible someone was listening.

Ara blinked, tensing a little. “What?”

Da-eun smiled gently. “That you’re making a solo album.”

“Oh…” The older woman wasn’t sure what she had expected, but this news took her by surprise. “I wasn’t planning on it.” She shrugged.

“That’s a relief.” Da-eun beamed with a small laugh. “I’m looking forward to going home soon. Aren’t you?”

Ara opened her mouth to speak, not sure what she was going to say, but the curtain beside them drew apart suddenly; startling them both.

“Oh! Costume change…” Da-eun exclaimed, setting down the brush and turning to accommodate the older woman who had just entered. Mimi was a year older than Ara and usually less prone to accidents, but the leather strap on her camisole suggested a wardrobe malfunction which needed attending to at once.

“Sorry to interrupt…” The other woman murmured apologetically, gesturing to Da-eun. “Could you fix this for me?”

“Sure.” She nodded, stepping away.

Ara’s phone had vibrated against her thigh twenty minutes before but she hadn’t wanted to risk opening the text, especially with someone standing over her shoulder. As Da-eun seated Mimi in the rotating chair on the opposite side of the room to take a look at her costume, Ara took the moment to slip the device from her pocket and flick through the recent notifications. Unsurprisingly, it had been Jimin who had texted and she read the sentence a couple of times before returning it to her pocket.

‘Two more weeks. I’m looking forward to seeing you. It’s been too long.’

***

Ara sipped from the glass, the cool water clearing her throat and offering a much needed refreshment from the events of the day. Her voice had become raspy from singing, but luckily she didn’t need it to type.

‘Jimin,

I was cleaning my closet before we went on tour and found the dress I was wearing on the night we met.’

She found herself smiling, a little longingly, at the memory, a strange anecdote coming to mind.

‘It still has a Daiquiri stain on the hem and it’s too big for me now. I don’t know why I’m saving it.’

The thought made her sad, somehow.

‘I wonder if you remember that night as clearly as I do. I didn’t want to leave. I knew you were with someone else, but I didn’t care.’

A deep frown played on her otherwise gentle features.

‘Does that make me a bad person?’

It wasn’t until she read the line back, she realised the thought had never occurred to her before. Not once in five years. She wondered why it suddenly seemed to matter. With a sigh, she continued, committing her trail of thoughts to the page.

‘You told me it was over the next time we met, and I believed you, but part of me wondered if you’d go back to her, once you knew how inexperienced I was. I guess I know how you feel sometimes. The whole thing has taken me by surprise as well. I never felt like anyone would want me.’

Her chest ached as she typed the final sentence; overwhelmed by emotion. It was true that the compliments and flirty glances she often received were met with an automatic but fleeting sense of glee. It felt novel, after so long of feeling like she didn’t deserve it. It sometimes still felt that way; back in the hotel room, after the cheers of the crowd had faded. She had brought the subject up with her company counsellor who had laughed it off, explaining that everyone suffered with imposter syndrome from time to time; she wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last. On the matter of flirting, she had kept that one to herself. It felt too personal and she was sure it would come across as vain. Occasionally it was unwarranted; the older mens’ eyes moving down her legs when she took to the stage in a short skirt back in Seoul, or the way she jumped in alarm when someone once slipped their hand down the back of her jeans while she stood tightly packed in an elevator in Osaka. But other times she found her heart racing and stomach churning; not thinking of Jimin until she tucked herself in bed at night. A pretty, tall waitress brushing her hand as she handed over the bill in a Thai restaurant, or the hotel doorman who had helped her move her luggage earlier in the week and smiled kindly at her in the lobby. She knew Jimin, of all people, would understand. She had seen the way he played the audience, like he had a secret to share with them all. Early in their relationship it had made her crazy; the way he seemed to flirt with anyone he came into contact with, often without even realising. But now the tables had turned. He would understand; but she wasn’t sure he would accept it.

She glanced a warily at the shadowy corner of the room where an oversized bouquet of red roses sat on the dresser. They had arrived earlier to the hotel room, along with a postcard sized letter from her manager. He had been unable to make the trip to Taiwan but was waiting for her in Tokyo; the contract was ready, whenever she was ready to sign. The flowers seemed like a bribe; the gesture leaving a sour taste in her mouth. She wondered if the other two girls had received any, or if the privilege was all hers.

The sound of her ringtone, a chirpy, summer tune, alerted her to the fact that an hour had already passed and it was getting late. She quickly swiped the screen and raised it to her ear, not wanting to wake up the neighbours.

“Hello?”

There was a pause before Jimin spoke. “How are you?”

“Good.” She squinted at her watch with a frown. “What time is it there?”

“2am.”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” She asked, a little baffled. He hadn’t called her this late in a while.

“I only just got in. There was a company dinner.” He explained. “What are you up to?”

She hesitated. “Just thinking.”

He laughed, softly mocking her. “Just thinking?”

She shook her head, dismissing it. “Oh, it’s nothing…I was drying my hair.” She lied, fingering the ends of the bone-dry locks in an automatic response. “Da-eun dyed the tips purple for the photoshoot.”

“I liked the pink.” He groaned, a little sulkily.

“They thought purple would fit better with the concept photos.” She mumbled deflatedly. “It’s not really my choice.”

“You could change it when you come home.” He said hopefully. She heard the flirtatious grin in his voice and could picture his smile on the other end. “They can’t do anything about it once your contract has ended.”

“Maybe.”

She sounded distant and he noticed the change at once.

“Are you okay?”

She closed her eyes tightly, temporarily blocking out the glare from the laptop screen. “I’m fine. It’s just been a long day.”

“Did you take a look at the brochures I emailed you?”

“I haven’t had time. I’m sure whatever you pick will be fine.” She knew she sounded a little irritated but was unable to mask it. The weight of the day suddenly seemed to dawn on her and she wanted nothing more than to go to bed. The last thing she wanted to talk about was moving house.

“I’d really like you to help.” He argued lightly. “There’s a three bedroom going for sale on the Han River. Yoongi says it’s a good deal.”

Ara sighed. “I’m sure he’s right.”

A pause.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I wish you’d stop asking.” She pleaded, feeling on the verge of tears. Jimin seemed to hear the tremor in her voice and thought for a long moment before he spoke, tentatively.

“Maybe you should ask the doctor to change your medication again.”

Ara clutched the phone tightly. “It’s fine.” She tried to smile, hoping it would show in her voice. “I’m feeling much better, just tired.”

“Is that a side effect?”

He sounded concerned and she nodded to herself, though she knew full well she hadn’t taken the time to read the little leaflet properly. “Probably. Maybe I just need some sleep.”

“Okay.” He agreed, though she sensed his trepidation. “I’d better go then.”

He sounded disappointed and Ara felt guilty once more. “I’m sorry Jimin.” She apologised softly. “It really was nice that you called. It’s just these time zones…”

“I understand.”

She wondered if he did. Her eyes felt damp beneath her heavy, false eyelashes, making them itch. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

***

She had forgotten her contact lenses and had to rummage through her Birkin to retrieve her reading glasses. They felt strange on her nose and she wondered how she had ever made it through high school wearing them. At least she had been given a moment’s peace to read through the contract. The office overlooked Ueno Station and the rush of traffic below would be too distracting had someone also been watching her.

‘As a permanent member of the label you should not bring the company into disrepute…’

She read carefully, though the paperwork seemed much larger than the last one she had signed. Some of the phrases looked familiar, such as the declaration of her dedication to being a ‘brand ambassador’, but others were definitely new. Her gaze hovered over one line:

‘...should not jeopardize future success…not limited to personal relationships, controversial thought or opinion including strong ties to political associations, ideologies or groups.’

She expected no less, particularly after Mimi was caught on camera reading a Betty Friedan book. The first part was more complicated and she wondered if Jimin’s management had asked something similar of him.

With a sigh, she continued down the page, skimming the text now but picking up on key words which seemed important, ‘Maintain a visible and transparent social media presence….Agree to the screening and management of said accounts with the view of protecting our artists and their wellbeing.’

By the time she reached the end, it did not seem to matter and there was a strange comfort in realising this. The past three years had been carefully planned, organised, operated; her future written for her from the moment she stepped foot on stage for the first time. The moments of quiet between shows, or during her increasingly short stays back in Seoul, only seemed to complicate things further. Her thoughts were a mess whenever she stopped to breathe for a moment, and maybe it was easier to shut them off altogether; to give over all control and decision-making to someone else than to try and deal with them all herself.

The fountain pen was heavier than she expected as she picked it off the table. It had the company brand embossed on the side in gold-leaf which seemed to reflect the fading light outside as the sun set below the concrete structure of the art museum to the West. Slowly, she signed her name on the final page; the ink blotting a little as she moved aside the bound file and repeated the motion on the second copy. The second attempt was neater as she grew used to the feel of the pen in her hand. There was a knack to it; just like many of the things she had grown to learn in her adult life; underwear should be washed on the delicate cycle, t-shirts should be turned inside out before they are ironed, glasses should not be left in the sink too long, should they smash. She had an assistant to do those things now, and her clothes were mostly dry cleaned these days.

She neatened the piles of paper and put the lid back on the pen, so the ink wouldn’t dry. The first contract had been signed in black Biro, which hadn’t come with such demands. Reaching down, she picked up her black handbag and carefully folded her personal copy, slipping it between her lipstick and glasses case before adding the pen. She had probably paid for it anyway; in her own way. The green light on her phone was blinking and she slid it from the pouch in the lining. The text had arrived while she was in the meeting, which is why she hadn’t heard her phone go off. Her thumb paused over the messenger button for a moment, before she tapped the screen lightly; Jimin’s name and picture coming into view in the little window above the text.

‘One more week! :)’

***

Thank you for reading. To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM / Jin / Suga / J-Hope / Jimin / V / Jungkook

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yeeiguess · 4 years ago

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List of things I do that I can’t tell if they’re normal or if it’s ADHD/ADD/something else (very long, non-exhaustive list)

- If i take a pause in reading/watching something the emotional connection I get with it just disappear. I remeber i loved seeing it, but can’t feel it

- Can’t finish a movie unless I’m with something else. Can’t focus for that long ?

- Rarely finishes any series, actually

- Constantly tired

- Taking Vitamin C to give me a boost of energy doesn’t seem to work

- If I’m doing something boring or difficult I can’t concentrate. Anything distracts me

- I’ve been eating my nails and the skin around them forever. Not because I’m stressed, I just do it. Tried to stop but it didn’t last long

- Have to write down what I have to do in a day or I forget

- Forgets appointments, names etc unless I write them down

- Often forget what I was going to say, and if we’re in a conversation and the other person is talking even more. I don’t want to interrupt so I keep it in and then I forget because I can’t focus on two things at the same time

- Can’t tell if i take a normal time to fall asleep or if it’s long (between 45 minutes and an hour+ depending on how early I go to bed and how tired I am)

- Mimicking people’s movements if they do it repeatedly

- No notion of space or time. I can remember point A and point B but the road between the two, I can’t. Can’t tell you how long ago I did this or that, what I ate yesterday, which month I did X thing

- numbers are difficult. I need precise, step by step explaination of how to resolve math problems, most of it doesn’t make sense and I have a hard time remember which numbers comes after the other + how to say it (around 60-100 because french decided 70s and 90s needed to be Said and Written the dumbest way ever). When resolving simple things like 7+6 I do 7+7=14 / 14-1=6. I know 7+7=14 so I start from there. My mom does the same kind of things but she has dyslexia/dyslcalculia etc

- I’m always early and if it’s a place I don’t know I’m always scared I got to the wrong place or ay the wrong time and I need to check multiple time if the person I’m meeting isn’t here yet

- I don’t think it’s hyperfocusing but I spend a lot of time just imagining stories in my head with my favourite characters. I act them out when I’m alone, and sometimes stop what I’m doing just to think. I read a LOT of fanfics (but can’t read a book) and do a lot of fanart

- Doesn’t happen that often but object permanence being like nope (aka looking for something I just put down for an awefully long time. Mostly my glasses. Which sucks because I CAN’T SEE WITHOUT THEM)

- sometimes I get Intense Brain Fog and to read a sentence I need to read every word multiple times one after the other, out loud, until I can get an image of what it means. Sucks when it happens in philosophy class and I have two pages to read oops

- I’m slow. Like slow walker, slow to understand... it makes me feel stupid sometimes

- I can’t get up right after eating, I need some time before I can clean my things, out the dishes in the dishwasher etc... especially at night

- If there’s music, I dance. If I know the lyrics, I mouth them. Wherever I am, whatever the music is, at any given moment.

- When I’m tired I get hyper and excited and I’m terribly annoying but I just. Makes sound and move a lot until I’m REALLY exhausted and every movements is difficult

- Bouncy leg has been here for forever. Sometimes it’s BOTH legs and stopping is hard

- I’m a mess but I like symmetrical things and putting things on their correct places in stores. Can’t see the color of my desk tho

- I fucked up my sleep schedule in middle school and now if I got to bed too early I wake up tired af

- I’m impulsive af but also if I have a project to do I like to know every important step so I don’t mess up

- « I know I have to do that but I have no energy right now » procrastinator forever

- Literally just forgot what I thought of

- Okay no I got it- sometimes I get Thoughts that just don’t go away. Often it’s me repeating the way someone misgendered me, or my birthname i just heard and I have to mentally scream to cover the thought. It sucks

- If i have a phone call, a meeting, an appointment during the day. I can’t do anything but wait for it. No matter how long it’ll be until it’s time to go or see the person i start things and I get nervous so I stop and I just. Wait.

- I used to tell myself I didn’t exist, sometimes. It was a comforting thing, because not existing meant I couldn’t hurt, couldn’t hate myself or struggle with things like gender and names and dad. I haven’t done it in months tho !

Édit : i can’t understand why so many people reblog this without giving me any answer or any question or anything ?? What’s the- why do you reblog this

#list #very long post #adhd #add #I DON’T KNOW #i’m discovering things like ´oh wait i do that’#like i didnt notice or remebered or thoughts it was normal

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thecoffeenebula · 3 years ago

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Powerless Empath

Star Wars: The Clone Wars

Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano (x) y/n

Warning: trauma, panic attacks

A/N: I know empaths aren’t canon in the Star Wars universe but I just started imagining and thought up this story and I really enjoyed writing it.

Another note. I haven’t seen Star Wars in a while so if some of the details are wrong I am sorry! Just kindly let me know what I need to change :) that would be really helpful

p.s. my friend is going to make some art along side this fanart. I will post it on here when it is finished :)

as an Empath you were greatly valued in the criminal underworld.

Empaths were often confused with the jedi, as certain powers were present in both jedi and empaths. Empaths can only sense energy and emotions. They were aware of the mental and physical state of most alien beings. They do not wield the force. Some empaths do wield the force but they were born with it.

Empaths were a most endangered species. Especially if one wielded the force. Those empaths could be very sensitive to the dark side. Empaths need to be guided to learn how to live with their powers, if not they could end up on the wrong path.

A certain empath didn’t even have a chance at choosing a right path, as she had been snatched by a bounty hunter. Some dangerous people wanted to make use of the power of the empaths as a weapon.

The poor girl had been tortured and experimented on. All alone she was kept in a dark cell, covered by forcefields and droid guards on the outside. There was no way for her to escape.

All in shock she sat there all alone shaking in the corner of the room.

Anakin and Ahsoka had been sent on a rescuing mission. Master Kenobi and Yoda informed them about a young empath that had been captured.

They reached the ship you were held on. The ship was escorted by a small fleet. Anakin wondered why the ship of a bounty hunter needed so much security. This must’ve meant that they were up to something real big if that was the case. They knew they had to hurry.

They powered down so they wouldn’t be detected and managed to slip through the force field, on their way to rescue you.

----

You were sitting in your cell. Shaking and mumbling to yourself, not aware of your surroundings.

You were so lost in your own thoughts.

You could hear noises come from outside of the cell. Noises that sounded like phasers and fighting. You thought you also heard lightsabers, but you probably were imagining that, like you were imagining everything else.

You had no idea what they had put in your head. It felt weird. As if you were started to connect with the force. But it all didn’t seem quite real.

You didn’t just feel the presence of force wielders you felt a connection between you.

Weirdly Anakin and Ahsoka could feel it too.

“I do not think she is just an empath.” Anakin said during the fight with the guards.

“I don’t think so either.”

It became quiet on the other side of the wall.

Anyone could fear the worse. But you could feel it.

The door slowly opened. You couldn’t see anyone at first. The bright light from the hallway blinded you.

You had been in this dark cell for days. Any kind of light made your eyes hurt.

Two figures stepped inside. Your eyesight still was blurred. As they came closer you could see Anakin and Ahsoka more clearly.

“Ahsoka, guard the door.”

Ahsoka nodded and ran back to the door.

Anakin kneeled down in front of you. He got a good look at you. The sight of you made him angry.

You were completely bruised up from head to toe. There were stitches on your head, covering your skull. Showing that they had been experimenting on you.

Anakin didn’t know who did this but his rage clouded his mind and he instantly started blaming Dooku for what happened to you.

“Dooku” he said underneath his breath.

Ahsoka heard him on the other end of the cell. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Anakin,”

She turned to him. “he is not always behind these kind of schemes”

“Does this look like a scheme to you?” he pointed at you. The emotion in his voice vibrated through the room.

Ahsoka came closer. “Anakin, calm down. We will find who did this together.”

Anakin took a deep breath which calmed him down a bit. The rage was still pumping through his blood but he knew this wasn’t helpful in any kind of way. He was upsetting you even more.

He turned back to you and noticed the tears covering your eyes and face. You were shaking.

“It’s alright. We’re here now. You are safe.”

You tried to nod but it made you shake and cry even more. Knowing you were in safe hands just gave you some sort of trigger.

“It’s okay. It’s okay….”

“but we do have to get you out of here.” you nodded.

“Can you walk?” he slowly put his hands in yours, which was hard because you were clenching your fists.

You felt as if you were glued to the ground of the cell. Your body felt so heavy that you couldn’t stand.

Anakin instantly knew you weren’t going to stand. He had to find another way. He put his arms around your waist and underneath your legs picking you up, carrying you out of the cell.

Ahsoka made way for you and protected both of you all the way of the ship.

You blacked out half way. You were barely conscious during all the trips you made from Anakin’s ship to the medical room.

You woke up in an empty room You had a view over the city. It looked very nice so you must’ve been on Coruscant.

You had a little quiet time for yourself for a while. After the medical staff came in to check on you it wasn’t so peaceful anymore.

The jedi council knew not to push you, not after what you had been through but one after another jedi kept coming to ask you questions.

Luckily some good came out of it too. Master Yoda helped you with your meditation. It made you feel a little better.

You took a shower and was happy with the alone time with all the activity around you.

Before you could sit down someone was at the door. You sighed.

“Come in.”

The door opened and Anakin stepped inside. he kindly smiled at you. He noticed the tired look on your face.

“I am sorry, I am coming at a bad time…” he wanted to turn around but you stopped him.

“No, enter. Please. I wanted to speak to you.”

Anakin stepped inside.

He wasn’t sure whether to stand or sit so he awkwardly stood in front of you.

“Would you like to drink anything. The nurse just brought up some tea.”

Anakin sat down as he felt that was a gesture to stay.

You poured in some tea for the both of you and sat down next to him.

“I wanted to thank you for saving me.”

“Your safe now, that’s all that matters.”

“Did they by any chance tell you what they did to me? Or who did this to me?”

Anakin looked down at his tea. He knew exactly what they were trying to do but he didn’t want to upset you. It upsetted him when he first heard about it. He can’t put you through this. It might sent you into an even worse shock that he could find you in.

“I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“Why not?”

“I should leave.”

Anakin stood up.

“I’ll catch up with you later. Ahsoka wanted to drop in as well, you’ll see her come. She has this whole girls night planned for you, I don’t want to tire you.”

“Anakin wait!”

You looked at him surprised by his exit. You had no idea what was going on but it was bad.

Anakin was hiding something. You didn’t know that Anakin would make such a mistake as to keep something from a empath.

It was not only that that disturbed you. There was something inside of Anakin. Something dark laying deep. You felt something you have never felt before. It was weird and chilling. It must have something to do with what the Sith did to you…

If only the both of you knew what that would mean for Anakin…

#Star Wars #the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #prequels #fanfiction #clone wars fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfiction #ahsoka tano fanfiction

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