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wrongcaitlyn · 9 months ago

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so i was gonna do a full ass like actual essay and formatted as an argument essay thing for the why will is extremely powerful argument but turns out that after writing seven essays in less than a week, you don’t have much motivation to write anymore, even if it’s a subject that you want to talk about!

so instead i’ve got bullet points

so first of all, it’s canon that will came to camp when he was ten. yes he was on a trip to new york, but he still had somehow a strong enough scent to get attacked by stymphalian birds and be found by a satyr, when the average age for demigods to be taken to camp is around 12-13 (im assuming, bc 13 is the age they need to be claimed by)

now im just gonna go over his powers which are honestly crazily overlooked?? like obviously it’s partly his inner monologue that makes him seem way less powerful than he is, but i think we tend to glaze over the sheer variety and number of powers that he has, which is scarily impressive

this isn’t part of the argument but if you go to the fan wiki one of his abilities is will power and ik it’s talking abt like resilience but i find that so funny and i love that pun😭

so YES WILL POWER‼️

now onto the actual powers (even though that should also not be overlooked, and i will come back to it later)

so starting with the obvious is healing. we aren’t exactly sure to what extent the other apollo kids’ healing powers are, but we do know that will is one of the strongest in that field - if not the strongest in a long time (if we’re assuming that that’s why is abilities in archery and music are slightly lessened - going with the idea that demigods will mainly inherit one of their parent’s fields). it’s a very popular hc that he’s the strongest healer in like centuries but i’m just gonna go with canon here - so we just know that he’s an incredibly strong healer, running the infirmary on his own, even managing to reattach limbs (toa, the hidden oracle)

still, when i’m talking about powerful, i’m talking about the kind of powerful that people tend to overlook with will - i’m talking about fighting powerful, like would get incredibly close to beating a big three kid in a fight at his full potential powerful

so in no particular order, here are powers that will has that are fucking badass and that we dont seem to talk about??

the ultrasonic whistle. are you KIDDING. he managed to use this against the romans in boo, and it worked particular well for the monsters with sharper hearing - but it still affects humans to a great extent, and, if anything, can most definitely be used as a distraction. and what good is a distraction in a serious fight? that split second that an opponent would be clutching their ears in pain would be the perfect moment for

light rays. in tsats, he managed to project the light within him into a light ray (that nico compares to a care bear lmfao), and guys??? that literally killed a demon (epiales). it only managed to shock and slightly singe nyx, and it severely exhausted him, but i think we’re also forgetting the very important fact that this was done in the underworld. aka, away from the sunlight which we know is fueling his power, or, at the very least, his energy - aka why he brings a little sun lamp with him on the tsats quest, and is just generally having a miserable time out there. it’s made increasingly obvious throughout the book that will is weak in the underworld. he gets a rush of energy when they’re near persephone’s garden, but that’s it - everywhere else in the underworld is quite literally draining him because he’s a child of the sun - and even more so connected to it, and Apollo, i’d say, than any other siblings

because of his ability to glow. now, i know that this power isn’t necessarily helpful in a fight or anything, but i just wanted to point it out because apollo compares it his and nero’s glow while in godly rage (toa, tower of nero)

that comparison specifically, combined with the fact that apollo said it’s incredibly rare for one of his kids to inherit this domain, makes me assume that this projection of light is a sign of something more for him

but im not going to dive into that because this is about canon information and not my own assumptions lmfao

anyway, the fact that he managed to pull his most powerful feat, i’d say, in tartarus? yeah, that’s insane. we should talk about that more. if he managed to kill a demon in the underworld, and affect a primordial goddess after an entire quest in tartarus, what does that mean for his light rays on earth? how would that affect a god? a regular monster? a human?

i don’t have an answer, but i have my own opinions, and that’s that he could kill a monster or a human easily. i do think he’d be able to take on a minor god - not kill, obviously, but maim them at the very least with those powers and on a sunny day

there’s also light/power channeling. technically, this isn’t him on his own, but it still deserves an honorable mention as will was able to make nico even more powerful - just thinking of in a fight, if he managed to do that (what an iconic power couple)

okay and then last but not least - sunburn immunity

just kiddingslkdfjs

FUCKING PLAGUE POWERS???

once again this happened in tartarus, which in percy’s case or some other cases, you could argue makes them even more powerful - but i do genuinely think it’s the opposite way around here. he managed to give nyx a hay fever, and i truly believe he could channel a worse plague/more deadly disease if he had the heart to/wasn’t in the underworld

and we know just how dangerous any kind of plague power could be - choose the right disease and infect the right person, and that would’ve wiped out kronos’ entire demigod army - even if they wouldn’t be killed, a common cold is enough of a hindrance to keep any enemies at a weaker state and allow will to shoot some light rays or whistle or even just attempt to shoot his arrow

i think my main point here is just to get the facts about will straight: he’s not a healer because of his skills, he’s a healer because that’s just who he is. as a person, he chooses to be a healer and help people rather than harm. he doesn’t have the same abilities in archery as his siblings, no, but he’s still incredibly powerful - and yet he seems to downplay all of his abilities, and only bring them out when absolutely necessary. if he truly wanted to be a frontline fighter, would he not have attempted to project his light as a light beam earlier? would he not have tried to reach further into his light manipulation powers to be able to blind opponents and strike them with it? would he not have practiced his whistle more, making it strong enough to fully damage opponents’ hearing, or even make them pass out?

all of his powers have incredible potential. that’s proven when he goes down to tartarus, and, for the first time, is forced to use those powers to survive. he was given the excuse in chb to stay behind and be the medic because that’s all everyone knew him to be - but with nico, in the underworld, he had to be a fighter. and because of that, we finally saw the full potential of the light rays - which would only be made more powerful above ground, when he’s not completely weakened by the lack of sunlight. we saw the plague powers, which could be trained into something deadly. we even saw light channeling, combining will’s powers with nico’s to make his sword stronger, which - true, is not necessarily will on his own, but would be so much more useful in battle than just one other archer.

will solace is a powerful demigod, and i think that that scares him. he has plague abilities as well as healing, and he can emit light like a god would. maybe the reason he has these powers is because it is in his nature to use them for good, to stray away from the dangers of practicing his powers more and making them stronger - he’s a healer because he chose to, not because he won’t be able to help on a battlefield.

@actual-gremlin @bleep-bloop-boo @aina-otsuki

will solace is one of the most powerful demigods in the riordanverse in this essay i will

#i also think that it’s interesting how these “darker” traits came out more when in the underworld with nico #because you would think it would be when he is most powerful #aka in the sun #and yet when you think about it plague powers and the crazy light powers would have scared people #similar to when nico was revealed to be a son of hades #even similar to percy when he was first claimed #maybe it was a way of protecting himself from ostracization that he forced himself to suppress those powers #and consistently felt guilty about something that he didn’t even know he was doing - choosing not to fight #and so he puts all of his energy and power into healing and he doesn’t run out as much as everyone else because he could be doing even more #and yet he’s “just” a healer #will solace #wrongcaitlyn #tsats #pjo hoo toa #pjo

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therealityhelix · 2 years ago

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By Talos, This Can’t be Happening pt 26

Happy Tamriel Tuesday Wednesday! I forgor...

Rated PG13 for: Blood, violence, sexual situations, bad puns, and other poor life decisions.

@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions

?~?~?~?~?

The road back was peaceful, though Helix did keep glancing at his backpack. He'd have to offload that book as soon as possible. It was an insidious thing that seemed to still be whispering to her. He should probably read it himself, before it tempted her to try and take it from him.

Swag tromped along a little faster. The sooner they were back in town, the better.

There was a large gathering under the Great Oak. Part of the Fighters and Mages Guilds, the glass elf and orc adventuress, Rasheda, Dar-Ma, and several townfolk and guards surrounded Earana and Teekeeus, who were arguing loudly.

Both spotted Swag and Helix at the same time.

“You!” they shouted in unison.

Well shit.

“Do you have it?” Teekeeus asked.

“Hand it over!” Earana demanded. “I'll get your payment, and this can be behind all of us.”

“You cannot let her touch it!” Teekeeus insisted. “It is too dangerous!”

“The guild is weak from bureaucracy and politics! They can't contain or control these artifacts anymore! Besides, we had a bargain!”

So many eyes. Surrounded by the gazes of people he knew, people he didn't. Helix placed her hand on his arm, as the ring of stares tightened. He had to make his name right now.

Swag set his backpack on the ground and slowly, deliberately, and above all, dramatically lifted the netted book into the light.

He should give it to Earana. They did have a bargain. This was a world of spoken contracts. To break an agreement was to compromise his honor, as good as publicly declaring himself untrustworthy to the entire gathering.

His honor? Ha.

He didn't have honor. No, he should give the book back to Helix. She was the most powerful being he'd ever known. This could surely be trusted to her capable hands.

Anything but the Mages Guild. If anything went wrong while it was in the guildhall, they might all die, and he didn't want that, did he?

Swag handed the book to Teekeeus. The lizardman didn't even hesitate; he stuffed the book into his robes without even trying to look at it.

“Man, you weren't kidding, that book is a dickhole.”

Earana shrieked in frustration, throwing her hands up in the air. A huge globe of flame formed above her head.

Swag gripped his cane. One shot, most likely, before she took out the entire gathering. He had to drop her in one shot. He knew where to strike, right across the skull...

The sound of a dozen weapons blended in metallic harmony beneath the crackling of flame. The guards men, guild fighters, adventurers, and Rasheda had all drawn steel. Teekeeus and the mages filled their hands with deadly power. Even Dar-Ma had her clawed fists clenched.

Chorrol was tired of Earana.

She hesitated, the fireball shrinking back down.

“Lady, you gotta ask yourself, is this really you? Or are you being led?” Swag asked quietly. “Even I had that thing scraping around in my brain. Look at it this way: you ain't getting that book. No matter what you do here, it ain't happening. You gonna die here, or you gonna walk away to look for some other artifact somewhere else?”

Hatred shone in her bark brown eyes, but she lowered her arms. The mages let their magic fade.

“Citizens, please sheathe your weapons.” One of the guardsmen said. “Madam, we will escort you to gather your things, and then to the gate. Please allow us to resolve this peacefully.”

“You've made an enemy this day, you dim-witted traitor.” Earana growled, but she followed the guards nonetheless.

“Oh cool, 'cause I've never done that before!” Swag called after her.

“Everybody okay?” Helix asked the gathered crowd. There was a general round of affirmations, as various citizens began to break away to go back about their business.

“I'm going to go put this in a secure place.” Teekeeus said. “And pen that recommendation. You have both done impressively well.”

Helix followed the rest of the mages back into the guild hall, as the gro-Baroth brothers approached him.

“She was a piece of work, huh?” Lum asked.

“We checked into your claim of goblin activity in the old mine.” Kurz said. “The Countess has given permission to collapse the mine so this can't happen again. Right on our doorstep. I almost can't believe it. Damn shame about the farmer's boy, but...”

“At least you'll make sure it can't happen again.” Swag said.

“We.” Kurz said firmly. “Any able bodied worker in the city. We'll need every hand we can get. Besides, I wanna see you get your hair messed up, just once.”

Swag's hand went to his makeshift spikes. His hairstyle was, frankly, iconic, and he put a lot of effort into it. More here, since he didn't have his proper products, and couldn't get it into quite the right shape. But it was as close as he could manage with what he had, and he was still proud.

“C'mon man.” he half whined. The brothers laughed.

“Get some rest pretty boy.” Lum teased. “We're gonna have a busy coupla days.”

He wasn't kidding! Dozens of workers moved through the mines, removing goblin bodies to be burned, and making sure there weren't more. Rocks were piled against the exposed city foundations, and then each chamber and tunnel were carefully and methodically collapsed. The Guild mages came in very handy there, blasting away old supports from a safe distance.

In the end, there was only a depression in the forest floor where the mine used to be. Swag was covered in dust and sweat, his hair was very messed up, and Lum laughed at him. Helix was equally messy, so the two of them slipped away from the celebrating workers, deeper into the woods, to a slow, trickling stream that pooled at the base of an enormous tree. Together they stripped off their grungy clothes, dunking them, and then themselves into the cold water.

Helix hung the clothing over branches, lighting a small fire beneath them to help them dry. Then she laid back in the water next to him, letting it's refreshing flow rinse over them both.

“We're going to have to leave soon.” she said. “Teekeeus is going to send out my recommendation tomorrow. I don't know if the University is even taking new applicants right now, but it's still our best bet.”

“How soon?” Swag asked. “We should stick around till I get the rest of my armor, at least.”

“Yeah, once we've got our supplies in order. So, should we go East or West?”

To the

“West.”

And green.

“That's Skingrad then. I wonder what it's like?”

“Guess we'll find out.”

They soaked in the cold water until shivering and clean, climbing out to drip beside the fire until dry.

“Gonna kinda miss our cellar.” Swag said, pulling his clothes back on. “Hope the Skingrad Guild is friendly.”

“I'm not going to stay with them if they don't let you in. Had a talk with Angalmo about Guild politics; they need all the new recruits they can get. I'll leverage that in our favor, and I won't even feel bad about it.”

“I thought I heard Teekie say something about that.” he said as they wandered back to the city, taking in the colors of the sunset. “Said the Archmage had banned Necromancy from the Guild, and a whole bunch of Guild mages resigned over it.”

“Huh. That...is probably not good, actually.”

He regarded Helix with surprise.

“Thought that would'a pleased you.”

“Well I don't disagree with the idea, but the implementation backfired, didn't it? Now they have a bunch of Necromancers and rogue mages roaming all over the countryside. I mean, look at it this way-do you want to eat at the Guild, or the Oak and Crosier?”

They had crossed the gate into the city, where the celebration had spilled over.

“Oh, let's try something new.”

“Cool, so look at it this way; he's the Archmage right? He has a whole council, all the instructors, all of the Guildmasters to check in with. It would have been easy to figure out how the Guild as a whole would feel about this. So there's two possibilities for what happened here. Either the Archmage is so out of touch that he didn't ask anybody before passing this ban, or he had been advised on how it might damage the guild, and forced the ban anyway. Neither paint a good picture.”

The Oak and Crosier was packed; the proprietess-a cat in a dress this time-rushed tirelessly from table to table. She had them seated and browsing menus in short order, linen towels and a bowl of warm, rosemary scented water to clean their hands.

The menu was mostly drinks, of which the Khajiit owner seemed quite proud. Swag found, to his relief, an entire list of non-alcoholic offerings. It would have felt embarrassing to order water in what was clearly this world's equivalent of a high class eatery.

Mulberry cider caught his curiosity. Had he tried mulberries before? They sounded familiar.

Helix informed him after he'd ordered it and a prunelle wine for her that he had, in fact, had mulberries many times before. She had several trees in her garden, and Narci favored using the berries in baked goods. To him, they would have seemed like a weird raspberry, and now that she mentioned it, he did remember eating some things that had weird berries in them. He remembered liking them, but he liked most things Helix fed to him.

He was happy to let her ramble on about her plants, placing an order for the 'three course', which would be seasonal, and just listening to her explain the speed at which the trees grew, the different species, the uses of the wood, the bark, the leaves, and their importance in the silk and paper industries. How gathering the berries at the height of summer with her daughter and Narci had become a treasured tradition, how Narci snuck berries like a little kid, but the staining around his mouth always gave him away. How Madeline would purposefully smash the berries against her skin to stain it purple, her favorite color.

It sounded adorable, and he sipped his surprisingly delicious cider while she drifted from mulberry trees to other parts of her garden paradise, to Narci's steady progress as a sorcerer and as a person, to how fast Madeline was growing up.

He'd seen her recently; she was the kind of rough edged and energetic pre-teen he imagined Helix must have been at that age. He was glad Helix had explained that she would be taken care of in their absence. Narci might be willing to give his life to protect her, but that didn't mean he was at all capable of taking care of a kid.

Their courses arrived, one by one, a board of cheeses and sliced fruits, an egg pie full of leeks and some kind of oddly flavored but delicious bird, and a dessert of stewed plums in spiced honey, and sprinkled with large, crunchy crystals of sugar. They were provided with plenty of fresh bread to scoop up any leftover juices or honey, and then left to their own devices.

Music drifted above the voices of the patrons, catching in his head as others started singing along. A soft euphoria slowly stole over him, and he found himself singing with them. Knowing the words or tune wasn't necessary, it was the camaraderie that counted. Unacknowledged as he was, he'd helped protect this town, and he'd helped collapse the mine with everyone else, and he felt very, very good.

His sweet little lover had a glassy look in her eyes, also trying to sing along to a song she didn't even know. She caught him staring and gave him an inviting, sloppy kind of grin.

“You wanna go back now?” she asked, her voice lilting oddly. “I...I think I might need help though.”

“Yeah, think it's time. I think...think we gotta help each other.”

And so they wandered back to the Guild, leaning on each other, wobbling and stumbling through the clean, quiet streets. They were lucky not to break either of their necks falling down the cellar stairs; as it was they toppled, giggling, into the bed they'd claimed as their own.

“Edwaaaard...I don't think I can get out of these clothes by myself.” Helix mumbled.

And Swag knew exactly what to do about that.

?~?~?~?~?

#by talos this can't be happening #sartorial sorcery #Swag!Riddler #Riddler Family #elder scrolls

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halliescomut · 2 years ago

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KP Week 2022- Day 2: Favorite Episode

So, I did spoil this a bit with a previous post, it was 2 am my time....so IDK know who saw that. I apologize for my poor quality gifs, but I talk a lot about the acting, so I wanted visuals. Any gifs not made by me are credited with the gif. So here we go!

My favorite episode is the second one.

It might be a bit controversial, and I'm by no means saying it's the best one, but I do think there's a lot of good moments to be had. Like, I love the amount of levity in the episode, but there's also some pretty crucial world 'build'ing happening (pun intended). I love Porsche's response to everything that's happening, it's very realistic and gives more dimension to his character. Like, he doesn't want this, and his reflex to escape this new job he hates is to kind of be as bad at it as possible, both intentionally and unintentionally. I also love to the introduction of more characters, Pete especially, because I truly adore him. By the end of the episode we've been introduced to almost every character of importance (if memory serves the only person we have yet to meet is Kim).

You see a lot more of the interactions between equals, so not just a Theerapanyakun who's in charge of whatever space they're in, interacting with those of 'lower status', but far more peer interaction. We start out with Porsche's introduction to the other bodyguards, where there's a great deal of antagonism, some of which is a test/hazing, but clearly from some there's more personal reasons *cough* Big *cough*. We also get more Daddy Chan (TM), which is greatly appreciated. (gifs from Homiesexual Solidarity and you know why they're here)

Pete's introduction is such a delight, and upon re-watch, when you know where his story is going, is also a very interesting choice. (gif from Rainbow Press)

He's meant to be a bridge for both the audience and Porsche when it comes to understanding the mafia world, and what his expectations should be. We also get a lot of interaction between Porsche and other staff, and while we rarely see the Theerapanyakun family be rude to any of their domestic staff, Porsche very specifically is very respectful. He's not there to fuck up anyone else's livelihood.

Our next big scene is the shooting range, where Kinn and Porsche's power struggle becomes the front and center story. It's hilarious, because of the 'wasabi prank', but the undercurrents there are very telling. The reality is that Kinn and Porsche have both had to be the responsible ones for most of their lives, and not even just their adult lives. We can hazard a guess that Kinn was likely still a teenager when it became clear that Tankhun was not going to be the next head of the major family. So while Porsche sees them both as equals, Kinn is consistently trying to push him, force him into a place of subservience, and he's fighting it hard. (You can visit Lutawolf's page for more direct commentary on their power dynamic in regards to their romantic/sexual relationship.) The apple scene is worth several re-watches, because the acting there is top notch. Kinn's actions demanding that Porsche submit/trust him, because he's due it based on his position. But Porsche has never really been able to trust (read also: rely on) anyone and why on earth would he put that trust in Kinn so easily? (vid from creepymoony)

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He knows better than to show weakness in front of Kinn, but he's not been raised to hide his feelings or thoughts, and so eventually those feelings break out. For all of his work hiding things from Porchay as best he can, he really does not have a high level of emotional control (which is also well shown through this episode) but his show of control here rather than allowing Kinn to see any weakness or fear is very well done by Apo and very much in character, since Porsche does seem to generally be a fake it 'til you make type of person.

The training montage is amusing, but very good world building for the show, as we both get to see Porsche show his skills and demonstrate his determination to prove himself. Porsche takes a great deal of pride in his skills, and he's competitive. He may not take every part of the training seriously, but we do see him actively working when it comes to the physical skills of being a bodyguard. This set of scenes also enables us to more fully understand the expectations that are placed on all of the bodyguards. They're all shown as competent before we get into the more frivolous activities of Tankhun.

I have quite a few problem with the fallout from Elizabeth and Sebastian's unfortunate passing, because the reality is I was raised in a lower class household, and I very much hate the decision of Tankhun to humiliate Porsche as punishment. The whole scene makes me incredibly uncomfortable, so much so that I can't even enjoy Porsche in his mermaid outfit, which is unfortunate.

I understand Tankhun being upset, but I do also think that they give him a lot of leeway in his behavior that's honestly probably not healthy for him. (I also don't fully buy into Tankhun's 'crazy', I do think at least part of it is an act.) I do think that Kinn 'rescuing' Porsche is an important stepping stone in their relationship. I definitely see some discomfort in Kinn's face during the scene, but he knows how to handle Tankhun efficiently, which is important here. He's kind of ripping the band aid off as quickly as possible, but there's still some pain there.

The suit scene is fascinating to me, because we know there's a draw for Kinn that's throwing him off with Porsche. But this glimpse into Porsche recognizing this connection is very interesting. Porsche knows when someone is attracted to him. The man is a hoe (affectionate) and very emotionally intelligent, he's not missing those cues from Kinn. (Image credit to thetheea-rossa)

But they're both fighting that physical attraction because they don't like it each other personally. They both feel the other doesn't respect them, but they are coming to that conclusion from their own disparate experiences, which are expertly expressed by this tumblr post:

Then this happens, which is one of the best things I've ever seen, and the comparison to Miss Congeniality that I saw will live in my mind forever. (Gif credit to: Ai Kinn)

The launch party is an entire clusterfuck, Porsche is back intentionally making bad decisions out of spite, which does backfire wildly. Anyone who's worked a service job that they hated truly understands this desire to be so absolutely crap at that their job to the point that they get fired, but Porsche is forgetting a key component here, which is that the mafia doesn't 'let people go'. His reaction to recognizing the consequences of his bad decision are also very clear. Porsche doesn't want to be there, but he also doesn't want Kinn to get hurt. It's not Porsche's intention, and he truly does feel guilt about it, but his stubbornness is still firmly guiding a lot of his decisions. We see fairly regularly through the series that Porsche isn't necessarily a long-term thinker. (Personally I think that meant to set him apart from Korn and his chess game.)

Our final scenes introduce the minor family. We meet Vegas (sort of) and get confirmation regarding at least one person who's making active attempts on Kinn's life. The conversation with Fancy Lady Assassin does show that it may more accurately have been an intelligence gathering mission. I really read that scene to show that her actually succeeding in killing Kinn would have been a bonus, but wasn't necessarily the true objective, at least for Vegas.

And then we meet Gun and Macau as well, see the dynamic both personally and professionally between the major and minor families. Kinn truly makes some intentions clear, though not maybe entirely purposefully here. Kinn choking Porsche and the reactions we see from Korn and the minor family are very telling, especially upon re-watch with more context. On Kinn's part, he's clearly intending it to be a show of strength, one more example of him being willing to get his hands dirty as it were, which is something that the minor family insinuates he's not willing to do. But we also start to see suspicion on the part of Vegas and Gun. The minor family is shown to treat their bodyguards and staff more casually, but they also seem far more willing to sacrifice them, so Kinn making the decision to protect Porsche here is an interesting tidbit for them. Korn's decision NOT to be the decision maker here is another telling moment, clearly causing more suspicion in Gun. Gun's probably thinking why are you protecting this stranger? For myself, Korn is being manipulative as always, and he's watching Kinn fall in line to what he wants, at least for now, so what reason would he have to interfere. Depending on what you think Korn's endgame is, this can indicate anything, really. I'm not entirely sure it's a case of 'I just want to protect and care for my adoptive sister's son' though.

But just watch y'all. The depth you can read from this, especially on a re-watch:

Pete finally getting through to Porsche, getting him to understand exactly how close things were to definitely not going his way. And he manages to include just little bit of more info about Kinn and his motivations. Kinn is clearly liked by the people that work for him. For pretty much every interaction you see, there's respect and deference for Kinn, but not fear. And outside of Porsche, you don't see Kinn intimidating or even being rude to any of the employees around the compound.

The apology scene is really interesting to watch, as you see ACTUAL COMMUNICATION between Kinn and Porsche. Up to this point they've both been playing a role, but here there's a genuine inquiry from each of them. "Is this the real you?"

Here they're both on equal footing because they're alone, they both know that there's a persona they're projecting out of necessity, and they both want to see behind those personas. But there's still hesitation because of the lack of trust. And it becomes a bit of a vicious circle, because without taking a risk and being truly honest, even in small ways, they can't build any trust.

Porsche get traded to Tankhun for Pete, which isn't really much of anything, but it's clear that Kinn does see this as a a sort of punishment, though a very lenient one. But I will say, I don't think that Kinn would have made the trade if he didn't actually trust Porsche to protect his brother. Kinn's a deeply caring person, we do see the expressed regularly in the series, so we can extrapolate that he truly loves his siblings, and he certainly wouldn't make a choice that he thought would put Tankhun at risk.

Our final scene of the episode is a juicy one. we have Gun recalling a conversation earlier in the day with Korn, clearly trying to get even the smallest bit of information about Porsche, after the meeting/choking. His spidey-sense are all a-tingle, and he knows there's something deeper going on. He gets nothing more than confirmation that there's definitely something going on and put Vegas in charge of looking into it.

Re-watching this scene multiple times, I got say I'm fascinated by the relationship there, because Gun is a terrible father, truly, but he trusts Vegas more than ANYONE just because Vegas is his son (I'm assuming that's his reason). But he has a direct familial relationship with Korn and he wouldn't trust that man as far as he could throw him. Like, it's not a blind faith in Vegas, but Vegas' loyalty is never questioned by Gun, even when Gun's motives are question by Vegas. Simply fascinating.

I really like this choice as a final scene, because it sets us up as the viewer to know that there's definitely more secrets in that house than there are guns, and it also gives us a heads up that there's going to be a hidden motive when it comes to anything Vegas does in the coming episodes. It's just some really engaging storytelling, you know?

But anyway, we'll consider those my final thoughts. FYI, this post is over 2,000 words, I was not kidding when I said I put more into it than some of my college level papers. Also, it might have been longer, but my browser crashed as I was finishing everything out and adding the gifs, and so some of my thoughts have been lost to the sands of time and the whims of Google Chrome. If you actually read this whole thing...here's some behind the scenes wet Mile (courtesy of daikunart). Thanks.

#kpweek2022 #Kinnporsche Ep 2 #Kinnporsche episode 2 #Day 2 #Favorite episode #porsche kittisawasd #kinn theerapanyakul #IDK how to tag things #Is this good enough

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five-rivers · 4 years ago

Text

Medium Despair

For @sapphireswimming

Danny woke up gasping for air and fighting against his sheets. By the time he’d recognized his surroundings, he’d already rolled off his bed. He dragged in ragged, shuddering breaths. He could breathe. He could breathe. He wasn’t suffocating. He wasn’t at school, in his locker or otherwise. He could move he could stand. He did stand, skin prickling with the memory of electricity.

“Sydney?” he called, softly. “Is that you?” He could see a glowing form in the corner behind his dresser, and with that dream there weren’t a whole lot of other people it could have been, but it was polite to ask. At least in Danny’s opinion.

The ghost slid out, slowly, flickering. “Sorry, Danny,” he said, and he really did sound remorseful.

Danny might believe it more if it wasn’t 2:20 in the morning on a school night, and this wasn’t the third time Sydney had done this. Still, Sydney was something like a friend.

“What is it, Sydney?” he asked. “Did something happen at the school?” Casper High was one of the most haunted buildings in Amity Park, which honestly didn’t make sense.

Danny had done his research. The school was old, sure, but Sydney was the only person who had ever actually died there. That didn’t stop the Lunch Lady, Technus, and a whole host of others from hanging around the place, although most of those others were pretty weak. Hardly strong enough to even interact with Danny or other ghosts.

Sydney shrugged.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Sydney looked down at the ground. The puddle of not-light he cast on the ground – visible only to only Danny and other ghosts – rippled and glimmered.

Danny frowned. “I have fun talking to you during the day, Syd, but I do have to sleep. I’m human, you know?”

“I know,” said Sydney.

“So why are you here?” asked Danny, briefly spreading his arms in exasperation and the dropping them to his sides again. He was still unsettled by the dream he’d just had.

Being close to ghosts while he was sleeping was just a recipe for nightmares. They weren’t always about their deaths, but more often than not…

Sydney’s death was a particularly unpleasant one. Danny did not expect to get back to sleep. Not tonight. Hence his annoyance.

“I need to…” started Sydney, before trailing off. “I need…”

“Sydney?”

“Warn you.”

“About what?”

“Not what they seem,” whispered the ghost. He looked away and phased out through the wall.

Danny’s frown deepened. Usually, Sydney was much clearer than that. Sometimes, talking to Sydney, Danny forgot he was talking to a ghost.

Danny sat down at the edge of the bed and tried to work a kink out of his neck. He caught himself scratching at his skin as if he wanted to pull it off a minute later.

It was always like this since the accident. Especially after he had a dying dream.

Forcibly, he stopped himself. His skin was fine. There was no electricity flickering under his skin. He was alive. He was safe. His body was his body. His body.

(He was not floating above it, light as air, staring at its waxy pallor, at the glassy, empty eyes.)

He was alive, alive, alive.

Awake.

Not dead.

Slowly, he laid back down on the bed. He was alive, awake. A medium, yes, associated with more ghosts than could possibly be healthy, either physically or mentally, yes, but alive. Definitely, clearly, alive.

He didn’t like it when ghosts woke him up. Especially when they came with ominous warnings about the future.

Maybe Sydney would let Danny track him down tomorrow, but Danny doubted it.

“Something’s off,” said Danny, staring up at the tall front of the school.

“Yeah,” agreed Sam, “it’s Spirit Week. When the teachers participate in medieval rituals to brainwash us into supporting the troglodytes that ‘represent’ our school in sports.”

“I was going to argue,” said Tucker, “but that is about what it’s for, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Danny, “I don’t think it’s that. Probably. Unless there’s a ghost that appreciate the pun?”

“You appreciate puns.”

“I’m not a ghost,” said Danny, frowning at Sam.

“That’s true.”

Danny sighed. “I just have a bad feeling about this. I know you can’t see like I can, but… be careful. If you do see anything weird, let me know.”

“Hey, Danny!”

“Oh, I changed my mind. Kill me now, I want to be a ghost.”

Jazz ran up and threw an arm around Danny’s shoulders. “You left so early!” she said. “Are you excited about Spirit Week, too?”

“No,” said Danny.

Jazz paused, looked at Danny more closely. “You look terrible,” she said. “Maybe you should talk to the counselor?”

“Pass,” said Danny.

“You know, you’ll have to talk to me in more than monosyllables at some point.”

“Do I?”

Danny rolled his eyes.

“Anyway, I’ve got to go to talk to Mr. Lancer about my speech! Have a great Spirit Week, guys!”

She ran off.

“I will never understand her,” declared Sam. “But I think she does have a point about the counselor. Maybe they’d be able to help with the nightmares? At least the non-ghost-caused ones.”

“All my nightmares are caused by ghosts.”

“Eh,” said Tucker, giving a half-shrug.

“Will it make you feel better if I agree to go?”

“Yes,” said both Sam and Tucker.

“Ugh. Fine,” said Danny.

Danny walked though the deserted hallway, pass in hand, study hall abandoned behind him as he looked for the counselor’s office. He’d never been there before, but it should be around here somewhere, right?

A cold hand settled on his shoulder.

“You must be Danny Fenton! Your sister told me all about you.”

Danny turned to look up at a tall woman. She was dressed a lot more flamboyantly than Danny would have expected.

“Yeah? That’s me. Who are you?”

“I’m Penelope Spectra. Your counselor! Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“Uh,” said Danny. There was something unpleasantly an unexpectedly pejorative and assumptive about that statement. Weren’t counselors supposed to tell you that there wasn’t anything wrong with you? That your feelings were valid.

He shrugged. He couldn’t put his feelings into words.

(Couldn’t open his mouth for fear of cold leaking out past his teeth, his soul exhaled with his breath.)

(Why did he feel this way?)

“Why don’t you step into my office?”

The room was… not what he expected.

“Sorry about the dust,” said Spectra. “I’m just moving in. They upgraded me.” She smiled, showing all her teeth. “So… like I said, your sister told me a lot about you, and I have a few things I’d like to try for your laz—Excuse me. Your difficulty with staying focused. It happens sometimes with traumatic brain injuries, that a promising young mind can be—Well. In any case. I am here to support you and find a way for you to succeed. What’s troubling you?”

Danny’s ginger perch on the dusty chair turned into a frustrated slump. “Nothing,” he said. He pushed himself back up. “I should go—”

“Oh, just humor me,” said Spectra. “There has to be some reason you came. Anxiety? Stress? Social pressures?”

Danny shook his head and stood up.

“Nightmares?”

He sat back down.

Danny leaned over the table to whisper to Tucker during English, when they were supposed to be reviewing vocabulary words.

“Have either of you seen the counselor before?” asked Danny, after what was easily the worst week of his life. He was starting to have suspicions, but…

“Yeah,” said Tucker. “When you were in the hospital. He was pretty cool.”

“He?” asked Danny. “He?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been seeing a ghost for the past week.”

“Ghost therapist? Well, if it’s working…”

“It isn’t. She’s from hell. I swear. A literal demon from hell.”

“Exorcism?”

“Exorcism.”

Jazz didn’t often come to school after hours, but she’d left several important things and she was the student body activity director, voted for and everything.

Important thing #1, her speech, which she had to practice.

Important thing #2, the—what was that?

Already spooked by the late-night atmosphere, she ducked into a doorway and peeked at the place she’d seen movement. There weren’t many classes held down that hallway, and she didn’t come down this way often, so maybe she was just��

No. That was her little brother and his friends conducting some kind of satanic ritual over a wastepaper basket.

Their parents were terrible influences. She was going to give them a stern talking to when—what what what what WHAT—

What had she just seen?

She looked back around the corner to see the… whatever it was dissolve in smoke and fire and shadows. Then Danny and his friends started cleaning up as if this was a perfectly normal Thursday night.

Jazz… Jazz was going to process this. Later.

She turned around and walked straight back out to her car. There was, after all, nothing that important.

“So,” said Danny, leaning towards Sam on the bleachers as he watched his sister give her speech. “Looks like we saved Spirit Week.”

“Never say that to me again,” said Sam.

“But we did. Look at all this spirit-filled people.”

“You were literally the only victim.”

“But Sam~”

“It does seem less grim, though, doesn’t it?” asked Tucker, contemplatively. “You are no longer the goth bird of happiness.”

“Maybe a bit,” allowed Sam. “I think that’s just because everyone’s glad this week is over, though. No offense, Danny.”

“None taken. I’m glad it’s over, too.”

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2021

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side-shawty · 4 years ago

Text

Burn XIII (Stark!Reader)

XIII: More

Fandom: Marvel (MCU)

Type: series

Prompt/Summary: Love is everything.

Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Stark!reader, Tony Stark x daughter!reader

Requested? YES

I’ve been inactive for soooooo long that I understand if no one cares about it anymore BUT after a lot of writers block and some mental fragility I am BACK! And i will f i n i s h this series. Much love to you all <3

-Duckie

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

•

The ceiling was white.

Just like it was when you always woke up, white and cold with buzzing fluorescents. These were different though, they were dim not at all blinding.

Your guard was up immediately when you heard the beeping of machines nearby. You looked around and saw yourself hooked up to several monitors. An increasingly rapid beeping made it clear that one of them was a heart monitor.

The walls around you were all white. The outline of a door was visible on the left wall and you quickly began to remove all the wires and tubes from yourself frantically.

You had to leave. They couldn’t keep you here any longer. The just ... couldn’t.

When you finally freed yourself from the machinery you swung your legs over the side of the bed and saw your body covered in bandages big and small and fading bruises covered the visible skin.

You reached up and tentatively felt the bandage around your neck. You were praying that you had done enough damage that they couldn’t put that horrible device in again.

You shifted your weight so that you could hop off the bed, vaguely registering how soft it seemed.

“I wouldn’t do that,” spoke a voice overhead.

You almost wept, “FRIDAY?” You asked sitting back on the bed.

“Welcome home Miss Y/N,” she spoke reassuringly.

Suddenly heavy with relief you settled your elbows onto your knees and held your face in your hands.

“Oh my god. It was real,” you whispered to yourself, believing your escape had only been a dream.

You were stunned into silence and could hardly breathe properly.

“Would you like me to call Mr. Stark?” FRIDAY prompted.

“Please,” you responded, unable to say much more as tears began to wet your cheeks and bandaged palms.

It felt like only a few seconds until the white door slid open and your father, mother, and sister all sprinted in and right towards you.

You chanced getting off the bed to stand only to realize that your legs were extremely weak. If it had not been for your father scooping you into his arms, you would have fallen face-first onto the ground.

Pepper and Morgan were quick to also wrap their arms around you and you could only sob in the arms of your family as they began to cry along with you.

After what felt like forever you finally released each other. Your mother forced you to lie back down and they all sat with you. Tony to the left, Pepper on the right, and Morgan in your lap, her back against your chest clutching her Otto the octopus.

You waved your mother off when she attempted to tell Morgan that sitting on you could hurt. You missed having your little sister in your arms like this, besides she was beginning to nod off.

You finished the glass of water your Dad had given you and he took it, putting it on the white bedside table.

“What happened? How long was I…” You trailed off.

All of their expressions seemed to darken at the questions.

“After the gala,” Tony began, “that android that took you just vanished into thin air. We all searched for you but there was nothing. Your tracker all but died and you were in there for…” he paused like the next words would inflict physical pain, “for three more than weeks. And you’ve been unconscious for nine days.”

You didn’t speak as you processed the information. All you could do was squeeze a sleeping Morgan and Otto closer to your chest. You realized you were squeezing too hard when the girl shifted uncomfortably and forced yourself to relax as she slept.

It was all coming back to you in pieces, the experiments, that room, and—

“Where’s Harley?” You asked abruptly and Pepper gave you your answer.

“He’s safe. He was only unconscious for about a day and a half when you got back. He’s been recovering from malnutrition and minor injuries but he’ll be alright.”

You let out a relieved sigh at that.

“What about everyone else?”

“See I told you she’d be like this,” Tony said a bit exasperated to Pepper.

“I know, this one might be on me.”

“Oh, it’s definitely on you.”

You rolled your eyes, but the action strained them a bit, “What are you talking about?”

“You always ask about everyone else when you’re the one who needs the attention right now,” Tony said, and reached for your hand to hold it in his own, “It’s okay to be a little selfish at times like this.”

You nodded, knowing he would take no other response.

“But to answer your question everyone else is completely fine, we even got some information from that base. Some of which we will seriously talk about later,” Tony told you sternly.

You nodded again before recollecting something else, “What about Peter? He got shot,” you paused, “because of me.”

“We all know that boy would take a million bullets if it meant saving you,” Pepper said jokingly and you cracked the smallest of smiles.

“I’d do the same for him,” you said looking down at Otto and Morgan, playing with a loose multicolored thread.

“We know and we also know he’s anxious to see you. Everyone is actually but we told him he could be next,” Tony said.

“He’s here?” You asked.

“He hasn’t left.”

“Wait where is here?”

“The compound, had your white room revamped into a temporary recovery space,” Tony said and began gathering Morgan into his arms.

You were about to speak again when he added, “And to answer your next question it’s about 1 AM”

You smiled, “Thanks, Dad.”

“Of course.”

“We have to get this one to bed and I know Peter is probably anxiously waiting outside right now,” Pepper said beginning to stand, she walked up to you and placed a loving kiss on your forehead. Tony followed suit.

“We love you Firefly,” She told you.

“So much,” your father added and you could feel the tears attempting to well again.

“I love you guys too, thank you so much for not giving up on me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Tony said and the three of them bid you goodnight before exiting.

Before the door could even close Peter was in the room but he hesitated at the door. Almost jumping as it shut behind him.

He looked like a kicked puppy with messy hair and in sweatpants and a t-shirt with a terrible science pun. You held your arms out to him.

“Peter,” you spoke.

That was all it took for him to be at you in an instant and as soon as you were in the warmth of his embrace the tears you were holding back came rolling down your cheeks at full force. It wasn’t long before Peter was crying with you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N/N,” Peter sobbed into your shoulder.

You shushed him lovingly, “It’s okay Pete, I’m okay.”

He pulled away from your shoulder as he sat as close as possible to you, holding your hands gingerly and kissing them.

“I should have protected you.”

You shook your head as you started into his red-rimmed eyes.

“No, this is not your fault. This is no one’s fault, okay?” You said and he nodded, you couldn’t be sure if he believed you or not.

“Oh god, I was so scared I would lose you, all that time. We never stopped looking, we did everything —“

“I know Pete, and I love you all for it,” You took your hands out of his in favor of holding his face.

“I just hate seeing you like this,” he said and turned his head to place a quick kiss onto your palm.

“These little cuts and bruises? I would still kick your ass on the training mat,” you told him and his light laughter ignited your own.

“I missed you so much,” he said.

“I missed you too, every day. You were one of the reasons I fought, I could never just leave you.”

There was a moment of comfortable silence before Peter spoke up again.

“I love you,” he said, looking deep into your dark eyes.

The lump in your throat made it impossible for you to respond so you did the next best thing. You took the hands on his face and moved them so your arms wrapped around his neck. You brought him to you slowly.

One of his hands cupped your cheek while the other rested on the small of your back.

The feeling of his lips finally connecting with your own was ethereal. You never thought you’d feel this again. So you let yourself get lost in it.

Something that started out sweet and innocent quickly became dangerously erotic, with dancing tongues and soon to be bruised lips. As he pulled you impossibly close to his chest you tangled your fingers into his hair.

You were sitting on his lap before you knew it, he was holding onto you as if you’d disappear if he let go for even a second. When you tugged his hair slightly he all but moaned into your mouth.

Pulling back you were both breathing heavy and you rested your foreheads against each other, smiling.

“So I guess it’s safe to say you love me back,” he teased.

“Without a doubt in my mind,” you said pulling him back in for another soft kiss.

•

NEXT CHAPTER

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seerofmike · 4 years ago

Text

The Writing In Apex Kinda Sucks And Also They Use Ship Bait As A Plot Device I Hate It Here

a stupid essay/rant encouraged by @zombiegloss that originally started as a youtube video script so if its like. weird at points. this was intended to be a verbal rant SNZISKSIA

basically i'm gonna talk abt the caustic-wattson-crypto relationship drama and how i think it was mishandled and how much the writers kind of Suck because i Can

you are free to disagree with me on any of my points and think that this aspect of the story was handled well, this is just my opinion, and i'd love to hear your thoughts and counterpoints !

first, addressing some things:

i know this is a battle royale and not necessarily a story-based game, so i can’t expect it to have masterful witcher-style writing.

but with the direction the game seems to be going; putting quests, evolving interactions, and comics in the game, plus coming out with a lore book and hinting at something bigger in the future, i think it’s fair to criticize it for lackluster writing, especially since what i’m criticizing has been something present since Apex’s story technically began.

secondly, i am not a professional writer. i’m a high schooler who writes as a hobby. i don’t have the decades of experience that some of the apex writers do, and i can’t claim to be a better writer than they are--but i also don’t have to be a five-star chef to realize that something tastes bad. when i critique something and give suggestions, i am not saying i could’ve done it better. i’m just bringing up what i think could have worked.

third, before i upset anyone , when i say a relationship is badly written, i’m not telling you that you can’t ship it or that your ship sucks. i’ll briefly touch on the shipping aspect of this and how it’s a detriment to the story but Ye

okay, so with that out of the way, let us Begin

relationships are often the emotional core of a story, and how strong your reaction is to conflict in these relationships depends on how the story sets them up. if you want the audience to care about these characters and what they go through, you need to develop them and establish the type of relationship they have well. it’s why so many people cried in the last episode of telltale’s the walking dead. you’ve spent roughly 12 hours bonding with clementine and protecting her, and your relationship with her is part of several story beats as well as character beats for lee.

when these two characters’ relationship reaches its peak at the end of the game, it’s powerful, and it’s emotional. you care. you feel something, and the fact that you have to choose what to do to lee only makes it more gut-wrenching.

now, the walking dead is entirely story-based and especially character-driven, so it may be unfair to compare it to apex, but i just wanted to lay the groundwork down for what i think is a strong relationship that makes you feel something when conflict arrives, in this case the conflict being lee getting bit and clementine having to decide his fate.

the broken ghost in general is kind of not-good sometimes, tom casiello previously wrote for soap operas and you can really, REALLY tell sometimes.

this story feels like it should’ve taken place a little later, and that we should’ve had a season to actually set up the characters and their relationships, but that’s a story for another day.

to put it bluntly, the set-up for the crypto, wattson, and caustic conflict is done poorly. for caustic and wattson's relationship it’s a little better, but not by much.

wattson and caustic having a relationship was hinted at in season 2, when her lore indicated that caustic was among one of the Legends who comforted her after her father died. In season four lore materials posted on Twitter, an email from Jacob Young states that Caustic is acting paternal towards Wattson. In season five, interactions get added to the Game, and this is the first time we actually see their relationship in action, as they have unique revive voice lines for each other. in the quests, when wattson is injured, caustic lashes out at loba and attacks her out of what seems to be anger at wattson’s current state.

Side Note this plot point was really stupid and done for cheap drama because she literally wakes up like two chapters later and they don’t even give her anything to say it’s just suddenly oh yeah crypto and wattson are working together. the same exact injury thing happens to octane later but nobody gIVES A SHIT because again, it’s just cheap soap opera drama.

their relationship might seem a little bit sudden for anyone who wasn’t on top of twitter lore drops, but like, it’s okay, i guess. i’ll give it the slightest credit for at least establishing something between the two in terms of voice lines and stuff, even if for some it might seem like it came out of nowhere.

what did come out of nowhere, though, was crypto and wattson’s friendship. in the quests, crypto and wattson are tasked with rebuilding the broken ghost because of their respective skills, and they’re seen talking in chapter six while they work on it. we’re not really given a clear timeline on how long the story in the broken ghost is, but i think it takes about a week, maybe.

unlike wattson and caustic, their relationship has been given absolutely zero material to work with before now, not even a passing glance in the trailers--which is a little weird considering crypto took down the repulsor tower and destroyed wattson’s home, but. Whatever.

tl dr of the chapter: crypto and wattson talk to each other while doing nerd shit, crypto laughs at wattson’s bad pun, and then suddenly they’re BESTIEEEES, until a couple dozen lines later in the same chapter. then they’re Not.

crypto’s drone gets hacked by revenant while everyone was kind of on edge after the reveal of a spy in their midst, he gets framed as the spy by caustic, anddddd wattson gets upset.

before i get into how dumb this storyline is, i’m gonna talk about the set-up to this conflict.

we have been given no reason to believe that these characters have ever talked to each other, and quite frankly, their friendship doesn’t really make sense.

ignoring the fact that crypto destroyed wattson’s home--which she probably doesn’t know about, so that’s forgiven for now--crypto is a paranoid guy. in the lore book he makes people stand on fucking footprints in his house so he can scan them for weapons and listening devices, and he apparently doesn’t stick around much after the games and nobody knows anything about him because he doesn’t talk to them.

a key part of crypto’s story is the fact that he is undercover and afraid of anyone finding out anything about him ever. him becoming friends with wattson kind of comes out of the blue, and we’re not even given a reason as to why they supposedly became close in the first place. i would kind of understand if like, maybe he draws parallels with her and mila in his mind and it makes him open up a little more, but that doesn’t happen. he just laughs at her joke and suddenly they’re friends.

maybe they’re trying to go for this ‘wattson can become friends with anybody’ angle, kind of hinted at with caustic but not really we’ll get into that, but that also? kind of doesn’t make sense since so many of her voice lines straight-up say she doesn’t understand people and electricity is more her thing, but honestly, she also does have those really friendly elements in her voice lines too, so its not as egregious as what they did with crypto.

their sudden out-of-the-blue friendship would’ve been fine if they spent a little more time fleshing it out, and giving us something to work with, but instead, the story immediately tries to rip it apart and frame it as this grand conflict where crypto is framed as the mole, crypto then accuses caustic, and wattson feels betrayed.

except it doesn’t really work, because we don’t give a shit. for several reasons.

one: crypto and wattson became friends and then ended their friendship in the same exact chapter. they did not speak to each other onscreen until this chapter began, you can read the entire quest on the wiki and see for yourself that their interactions up until that point were nonexistent aside from mentions in the narration that they were building something together.

the reason wattson feels betrayed is kind of stupid too. why does she really care that much if one of them betrayed loba? nobody else really cared about the fact that one of them was a spy, in fact, nobody even seems to like loba that much, and they just found out that loba’s been lying to them this whole time, and wattson was conscious for that conversation and had a speaking line, so she’s fully aware of the situation.

maybe it’s just like, the idea that one of them lied, but that’s still kind of a weak reason.

this entire betrayal thing is just dumb, and it gets even worse when you realize that there could have been an actual legitimate reason for wattson to feel betrayed by crypto--even if it still would’ve come across as weak conflict because of their newly established friendship, it would’ve made more sense than this.

Crypto destroyed Wattson’s home. He took down the tower and then all the flyers and stuff invaded Kings Canyon and made it their bitch. Not only that, but Wattson considers the Syndicate her family. The Syndicate are the very people who framed Crypto for murder and he’s trying to take them down.

They could’ve set up actual conflict with these things, and it almost seemed like they would, because Caustic briefly brings up that Crypto could be working with Revenant because he has something against the Syndicate but then that doesn’t really go anywhere and we’re just back to Wattson feeling betrayed because either Crypto or Caustic was a spy and she doesn’t know who.

Weak conflict could’ve been made better by a strong relationship and a weak relationship could’ve still been interesting with strong conflict, but both the relationship between Crypto and Wattson and the conflict that drives them splitting up as friends were really weak and didn’t make much sense.

It would’ve been ten times more interesting if Wattson found out Crypto ruined her home, the arena she grew up in, and was now participating in the Games to take out the people she regards as her family. That’s where her distrust could’ve manifested and conflict could’ve began, but instead it was the stupid betraying loba thing. why do you care. you just started talking to this guy like 2 hours ago.

also caustic’s whole reason for framing crypto feels stupid as fuck. he didn’t just frame crypto randomly, he framed him specifically because he doesn't want him to influence wattsob because he likes her Big Brain, but this is the FIRST time we have seen those two interact.

what influence is he talking about? wraith and wattson have been shown to be friendly with each other in the trailers, according to tom’s tweets, and in the story too so why doesn’t he frame her? at this point the audience had slightly more build-up for those two’s relationship than crypto and wattson and a betrayal storyline would’ve felt a little more deserved if still weak.

this is the point where i briefly want to touch upon shipping, and the fact that part of this conflict feels driven by shipbait.

aside from their relationship coming out of nowhere and the writers trying to make the stakes seem high and deeply emotional to the characters involved (despite this essentially being the first time they’ve ever interacted) tom casiello literally addresses shippers in a tweet regarding chapter seven, and as the story between these characters progresses, it becomes clear to me, at least that the crypto-wattson thing is just bait for shippers, and it’s lazy.

it’s easy to get away with giving your characters little to no relationship development if you’re just counting on shippers to do the heavy mental lifting for you

why should i put any effort into making this relationship seem believable? people are going to see a young guy and a young girl having bare minimum interaction and assume there’s romantic interest! then i don’t have to do any work, see look, it’s a ready-made relationship wrapped in a bow for me! all that’s left for me to do is give them conflict so i can keep teasing shippers with lines like ‘you never deserved her’!

i think it’s reasonable for me to suspect shipbait, since tom casiello likes doing darksparks shipbait on twitter, and i’m like, eighty percent sure mirage and bloodhound suddenly being childhood friends in the book is shipbait too, because these characters were the number one ship in apex for a long time despite little to no interaction, and then all of a sudden in the lore book they’re childhood friends despite this literally never being mentioned before?

like bloodhound is set up to be mysterious and nobody knows what they look like, or where they’re from, or who their family is--except for mirage Apparently, who played with them when he was a kid on their home planet, and has seen them with their mask off, because bloodhound did not wear a mask when their parents were still alive.

its weird.

i’m pretty sure they’ve said somewhere they were working on this book before apex even came out, so i could just be completely wrong and they always planned for mirage and bloodhound to know each other, but if that’s the case, why did they never mention it like they did octane and lifeline?

i refuse to believe MIRAGE never brought it up either like ‘heeeeyy bloodhound remember when we used to throw eggs at our parents lab haha wanna go do to that to bangalore’s room’

[silence]

‘good talk buddy’

ANYWAYS I GOT OFF TOPIC. POINT IS, shipping is a detriment to the story because the writers don’t feel like they actually have to put any work into establishing or developing the relationship between characters when they know the community’s just going to do it for them anyways, and that they can put in shipbait and it’s fine and it makes sense when it really doesn’t.

imagine watching captain america civil war after not seeing a single other marvel movie.

why would you care about the avengers splitting up or tony and steve butting heads or steve’s commitment to bucky? you wouldn’t care, at least not as much as someone who’s seen all the movies and knows the relationship between the characters and why the sokovia accords exist in the first place. you don’t have context and you don’t have any reason to be emotionally invested in these characters’ relationship.

this feels like that. the writers tried to squeeze this relationship and stuff into a single chapter and we don’t fucking care unless we were already invested in the idea of their relationship (shippers) because we barely spent any time with it.

so to summarize this little section, the set-up of this storyline Kinda Sucks! crypto and wattson barely seem to know each other, because we the audience barely saw them together and the writers are relying on shipbait in place of a relationship.

wattson and caustic are a little better but not great, but the conflict is stupid and it only gets stupider.

moving onto summarizing the rest of the broken ghost, gibraltar and caustic talk, caustic LITERALLY confesses to being the mole and says he framed crypto so he couldn’t corrupt wattson and to appear innocent because his identity was suspected, then that wraps up the season storyline.

season six begins with new voice lines, where wattson has had enough of crypto and caustic’s shit and is all passive-aggressive and going ‘this doesn’t change anything’. she has to decide who to trust, and how to figure out The Truth for herself because she’s not a little girl anymore. crypto and caustic are both trying to convince her they’re innocent and it creates some interesting conflict.

just kidding. it’s terrible conflict. you want to know why?

BECAUSE GIBRALTAR TRIED TO TELL HER THE TRUTH, RIGHT AFTER THE SEASON 5 QUEST HAPPENED, AND SHE LITERALLY REFUSED TO HEAR IT.

LIKE THERE’S A SEASON 6 LOADING SCREEN WHERE HE’S TELLING EVERYONE THE TRUTH ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED, AND WHEN HE GETS TO WATTSON AND IS LIKE HEY I KNOW WHO THE MOLE WAS AND WHY THEY DID IT, SHE JUST GOES i dont wanna hear it. i need to think

IF YOU WANT THE TRUTH WHY ARE YOU REFUSING TO HEAR IT

SHE SPENDS ALMOST TWO ENTIRE SEASONS MAD AT CRYPTO FOR SOMETHING HE DIDN’T DO BECAUSE SHE TOLD GIBRALTAR TO FUCK OFF WHEN HE TRIED TO TELL HER WHAT HAPPENED

ITS SO DUMB

i think it was towards the end of season 6 or the beginning of season 7 where apex posted this picture of wattson asleep at her desk where she has a letter from gibraltar on it that looks like it tells her the truth, so she knows now, she knows what happened, but NOW her issue is the fact that she doesn’t know anything about crypto.

WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT IS YOUR GODDAMN DAMAGE. YOU DON’T KNOW SHIT ABOUT BLOODHOUND EITHER ARE YOU THIS UPSET WITH BLOODHOUND TOO?? HAVE YOU EVER TALKED TO PATHFINDER. DO YOU HATE PATHFINDER TOO

oh but she was friends with crypto and now she’s mad that he lied to her EXCEPT THEIR RELATIONSHIP WASN’T BUILT UP WELL SO IT JUST FEELS STUPID. THEY SPENT LONGER BEING NOT-FRIENDS THAN THEY SPENT BEING FRIENDS. THEY BECAME FRIENDS IN ONE CHAPTER AND THEN IMMEDIATELY AT THE END OF THAT CHAPTER THEIR FRIENDSHIP ENDED AND THEN WATTSON SPENT LIKE 2 SEASONS MAD AT HIM FOR SOMETHING HE DIDN’T DO .

AND THE WRITERS TRIED TO RECTIFY THIS BY SAYING OH SHE’S NOT MAD ABOUT THE TRAITOR THING SHE’S MAD BECAUSE SHE DOESN’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT HIM AND IT’S LIKE WHY THE FUCK DID YOU NOT MAKE THAT CLEAR WHY DOES SHE SAY ‘IT DOESN’T CHANGE WHAT YOU DID’ IN HER VOICE LINES WHY DOES SHE CALL HIM A TRAITOR IF HER CONFLICT WAS HER NOT KNOWING MUCH ABOUT HIM . WHAT DID HE DO.

HE JUST STOOD THERE AND LAUGHED AT HER JOKE AND THEN HE GOT FRAMED AND THEN THAT WAS THE END OF THE CHAPTER AND NOW SHES SUDDENLY LIKE IM ACTUALLY MAD BECAUSE YOURE A LIAR AND I CANT TRUST YOU EVEN THOUGH I NOW KNOW YOU WERE FRAMED I STILL DO NOT LIKE YOU AND HES LIKE YEAH THATS MY FAULT

The Caustic voicelines are stupid too, again his reason for framing Crypto was stupid and a lot of his voicelines just seem to be that shipbait thing again but like from the angle of overprotective dad who doesn’t like the new boyfriend. it’s stupid but not as egeregious as this next part which is

crypto telling wattson his identity.

CRYPTO was framed for MURDER and is paranoid and can’t trust anyone and doesn’t talk to anyone and the last time he did talk to someone he got framed for Another thing and the person he was talking to turned her back on him and actively refused to know the truth for like 2 seasons and then he went This Is Fine I Can Tell Her My Identity

the stupidest update to this storyline was crypto telling wattson the truth

why did they do it on the dropship where there are presumably syndicate members and other legends around.

why didn’t he scan wattson for listening devices like he did for pathfinder in the book.

why is he telling her his identity when he knows she has very close ties to the people that FRAMED HIM for MURDER. Does he trust her that much? WHY? They spoke to each other in a chapter and then spent two seasons not talking to each other beyond passive-aggressive BS. why are you so fucking stupid taejoon

their relationship was so poorly set-up that even if the writers maybe intended for them to come across as close friends who had spent weeks bonding, it really feels like they became friends in a single conversation, had a falling out, and now crypto suddenly trusts her with his identity after an undetermined amount of time because he wants to be friends again.

that does not make SENSE this conflict feels contrived AS FUCK and the resolution feels even worse and unearned UGGGHHHH

it honestly comes across as crypto feeling desperate for friendship, and maybe this would’ve worked better if that’s the angle they played it as.

he’s been alone for roughly two years, and just wants a friend, and he’s honestly so lonely he just breaks down to the first person who’s really talked to him. it could’ve been an interesting little part of his character, and they could've gone into depth about how much this situation has affected him, but that’s not what they’re doing. he’s still paranoid and anxious and doesn’t trust anyone, except for wattson, because the plot needs him to or else there won’t be any stupid soap opera drama.

and to rub salt in the wound, wattson’s new voice lines with caustic have him telling her that she forgave crypto.

WHAT ARE YOU FORGIVING HIM FOR. ARE YOU FORGIVING HIM FOR BEING FRAMED? WHY DID HE HAVE TO APOLOGIZE TO YOU WHEN YOU WERE THE ONE WHO REFUSED TO HEAR THE TRUTH?

did the conversation just go hey my real name is taejoon park and something bad happened to me and she went aight i forgive you WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT

Caustic’s new voice lines to Crypto where he’s like ‘what did you tell her’--YOU TOLD GIBRALTAR STRAIGHT-UP YOUR EVIL MASTER PLAN LIKE A SUPERVILLAIN AND NOW YOU’RE SURPRISED WATTSON AND CRYPTO ARE ON GOOD TERMS NOW?!

THAT’S LIKE TELLING SOMEONE YOUR SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER AND THEN BEING SURPRISED WHEN YOU BECOME THE VICTIM OF IDENTITY FRAUD. YOU SET YOURSELF UP FOR THIS WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE CRYPTO DID SOMETHING SINISTER OR LIED OR WHATEVER. WHAT THE FUCK. WHY DO YOU HAVE LIKE 3 BRAINCELLS

this is at like ten pages already so i’m going to just try and wrap this up quickly.

it’s frustrating seeing this storyline play out when there are actually good relationships and storylines written into apex. i’m kind of getting tired of the loba and revenant conflict, but we at least had set-up to it in the form of a few animated shorts and it doesn’t play out as stupidly as this story does. bangalore and loba’s friendship is actually developed well, even if the point between the end of season 5 and season 6 where they suddenly talk like each other feels like it could’ve used a little more.

where crypto and wattson having an established friendship in the broken ghost failed, lifeline and octane’s established friendship works because we’ve been told since octane’s release they were childhood friends and given lore materials that indicate they’ve known each other for a very long time.

apex wants this storyline between crypto and wattson and caustic to feel dramatic and tense and ultimately rewarding when crypto and wattson did become friends for real and stuff, but instead it just comes across as hollow and empty.

there’s nothing there. it’s a case of tell, don’t show, and it looks like this stupid conflict is gonna keep going for another couple of seasons at this rate.

side note: this entire script was written before the new twitter comics

please tell me ur thoughts and feel free to respond with ur own lil essay

also believe it or not this is not the "shipping is a detriment to apex's story" essay i was gonna write this is a completely different essay that has some overlap SKXISOSOW

#apex legends #apex critical #crypto #wattson

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datawyrms · 4 years ago

Text

Changed Hunt

For Phic Phight 2021! (not completely finished but AAAAfinshnowwww) lowkey Dannymay Day 2 Portal, as well

"That portal is awesome!" Sam says. "Would be so cool if it worked."

Danny goes down into the lab that night to try a few things—it doesn't quite go as he planned.(aka a no one knows au) (Dey’s prompt!)

Danny really wished Sam and Tucker had stayed a bit longer that day. With them around, maybe he wouldn’t have wandered in that portal like an idiot. In his own defense, how could he have known that little panel in there had been an on switch? Who’d put that inside a reality tearing portal device? Jack and Maddie Fenton, apparently. He was just lucky the thing hadn’t killed him! Or at least, managed to overdo it to the point he...survived somehow? He hadn’t really decided what that portal had done exactly. Waking in a pained heap, bathed in a haunting green glow from the now active portal was confusing enough. Looking up and seeing a stranger in the reflective panel nearby just made it worse. Of course he didn’t take it well, or know what to think. If he’d become a ghost, his parents would freak. Fixing their portal by turning into some...evil human hating creature probably wasn't in the plan. At least his terror somehow managed to get him to become human again. Heartbeat and everything. He hoped it had just been a weird one off, or he’d imagined it from trauma. Until he started falling through things. He died so hard that he got his life back? The portal only managed to kill half of him? He was dead but ‘imitating humans’ was his specialty? Some human that just got to use his ‘soul’ or whatever to be a ghost early? Sam and Tucker might have had guesses- but he knew one thing right away. Whatever happened, he wasn’t all human anymore. He couldn’t tell them. What if they decided that was just too weird? What if they blamed themselves for not being there- thought they’d killed him? It wasn’t worth the risk. Besides, he couldn’t let Mom and Dad find out, so he’d be trying to hide any of the new weirdness anyway. Might as well just always do it. Maybe the weird new abilities would just go away. They hadn’t. They just forced him to think about it to keep both feet on the ground. He could deal.

Until other ghosts started showing up. Ghosts that actually knew how to be ghosts, terrifying powers and all. Ghosts that seemed to know what he was. He’d nearly jumped out of his skin when a green woman in a hairnet tapped him on the shoulder and asked who ‘changed the menu’. There was a lot of screaming and running away at that, considering she was floating and well. Obviously some sort of dead person. Freaky Fenton attracts freaky ghosts. Of course. She didn’t buy his claim of not knowing why the menu wasn’t exactly the same as fifty years ago (why would he? That’s a lot of years!) and thought setting ovens on fire and throwing them at him was a fair answer! So apparently Mom and Dad were totally right about ghosts being completely terrifying monsters that he should run away from very quickly. Which he did. He only ran into two walls he meant to go through, even. Just more reasons to never, ever tell anyone he might be like that crazed ghost lady. Mom and Dad proving their inventions actually did work sometimes was just icing on the ‘i’m so screwed’ cake. Ghosts exist, they fought one, and the school got shuttered for a week from excessive damage via flying appliance. Fun.

It was dumb to pretend that was a one off thing. It was stupid to think he could keep hiding what happened that day. Even if it felt safer, even if he just wanted to keep denying the portal was open so she could keep pretending it hadn’t done anything to him. Maybe if someone knew, he wouldn’t be hopelessly trapped by a huge glowing robot. Running didn’t work on this one like it did the older ghost lady. He tried, he really did, but the self proclaimed hunter kept tracking him down. Even when he transformed into the strange ghost version of himself he failed to dissuade the robot. Punching metal still hurt as a ghost, and so did getting pelted with little missiles. So much for intangibility being an advantage.

“You’re lucky that you’re a rare creature, whelp. Otherwise I’d be disappointed by how little effort hunting you took.”

Great, flame head thought he was a disappointing freak. More pressing was the net the ghost had shot at him that he couldn’t struggle free of. Even drawing on his weird ghost side wouldn’t let him phase through it. “Pretty sure you can’t hunt endangered species!” He redoubled his effort as the ghost picked up the net, trying to trick himself that his swinging was making him feel ill, not the terror of being carried off by some monster that came through the portal just to hunt him down.

“Hah! If I didn’t take you ghost child, someone else would simply end you.” The blank green eyes stared into his own as the machine pulled him up higher. “You should be grateful to be part of my collection.”

Danny gulped, unsure if he should keep his attention on his captor or the fact they were getting closer to the swirling portal. “How about no thanks? Since you’re such a good samaritan and all. You can just let me go and forget all about uh...this.” Why couldn’t he just squeeze out of the net, or make the rest of him all weird like when his legs decided to vanish sometimes? Pulling with his gloved hands wasn’t working, and the glow just grew brighter as the lump in his throat got thicker. “Please? You already said I was weak, if you let me go I’ll be stronger next time!” Okay, it was a stupid plea but he’d try anything right now to not get dragged to some ghost world.

“I’m not a catch and release sort of hunter.” The ghost chuckled as his prey shrank back with the denial.

“How can you be the ‘Greatest’ hunter if you just go after kids, huh?” Begging wasn’t working, so maybe getting him angry? He couldn’t go through there, what if being on the other side made him more like this thing, or the other weird green monsters? “More like lamest hunter.”

“Oh you’ll see the sort of creatures I normally hunt, ghost child. Once you join them.” Skulker shook the net hard, rattling what little bravado Danny had managed to gather up right back out of him.

So much for that hope. “This has got to be a mistake, just let me go!” The ghost didn’t answer him, and he couldn’t help closing his eyes when the mechanical monster fired up a jetpack and flew through that portal. It wasn’t as cold as he feared it would be, it wasn’t like the void of space. Just as green as the portal, still a swirling background to everything. He swore he saw faces and doors, but couldn’t keep looking for long. The combined movement of being dragged along with the spinning energy was stomach churning enough, and he had to deal with the fact he didn’t know anything about this place. Even if this ghost decided to let him go, where would he go? Was there even anything to navigate with? He certainly didn’t see anything useful like stars. Would all this green stuff just soak into him and make him not want to find home? Nothing here made sense! It was easier to curl up instead of struggling with the net to stretch out, and the stupid ghost couldn’t see how the tears welled in his eyes as he struggled not to cry.

He should have been braver, should have tried to watch more, but it’d been too much. The crunch of metal against stone jarred him out of his silent self berating, just to be even more confused. He was on an island? That just floated, because islands did that here. Islands that had forests on them, that grew out of what looked like rock. Sure, okay. At least it was a bit of a distraction from the fact he was trapped by some evil robot in a completely different reality! Well. It had been. Seeing the fact the ghost lived in some weird stone skull jutting out of a mountain made him snort despite himself.

“You said my puns were bad, and you live in that thing?” He was pretty sure the green mohawk monster was Skull-something anyway. Mostly tuned it out after he kept repeating the ‘greatest hunter’ bit. “Ghost Zone’s Greatest Halloween Decoration’s a more fitting title.”

“For a terrified whelp, you are very chatty.”

“I think I looped around from terrified when I saw how doomed I am.” He was just joking. Totally. He wasn’t goofing around to try and fend off the engulfing panic of never getting home, nope. Absolutely not. He tried to pay attention to the strange ‘skull mountain house thing’, but the fact it reminded him more like a zoo inside wasn’t helping. Massive, monstrous glowing ghosts leering out and snapping as they passed, smaller sorts that didn’t even look up and several empty cages stained green was not calming his nerves. He couldn’t even describe some ghosts, being such a confusing jumble of parts that didn’t remind him of anything. All he could tell was robo-hunter probably didn’t have any willing guests. Unwilling guests that looked far, far more powerful than anything he could dream of trying. He was so, so doomed. To the point that being tossed roughly in a similar cage was almost a relief so he wasn’t right beside the ghost anymore.

First task was struggling free of the no longer glowing net (deactivated somehow? weird.) which wasn’t too hard, but just left him in his freaky ghost form, in a cage, in the middle of who knew where. The Ghost Zone, that’s what they kept calling it. Not Earth. Fantastic! That’s enough to get a C-, but not enough to get him out of this cage. Reaching through the bars was out, the unexpected shock had him rubbing his hand and grumbling to how having some invisible field between the bars was just unfair. At least let him see it before hurting him more. Now what? Grasping that feeling that let him walk through walls wasn’t letting him through the cage floor, just like how the net wouldn’t let him out. Floating just reminded him of getting dragged here. So that was it. Why did he have to get stupid dying powers? They didn’t even do anything useful!

Stressing out and not finding a way out was an exhausting way to spend a few hours. He kept thinking of new problems, like he didn’t have enough already. When the robot wandered past, he almost grabbed the bars to get closer. “Hey! Screw head!”

The ghost actually looked at him, the stern face looking more confused than anything.

“Yeah you! You know I’m gonna like, starve to death in here, right?” Danny had no idea how he was managing to say something he was very terrified of coming true like it was a joke. “Kind of a waste, don’t ya think?”

“You will be fine, ghost child. Your pleas for freedom won’t fool me.”

“Wanna bet? Maybe we’re so rare because we all starve to death in this dumb ghost world or whatever.” That and there probably weren’t too many people dumb enough to get shocked to...sort of death. “That and like, you’re some freaky machine man, you probably don’t know anything about eating to start with.”

Skulker kept staring at him, as if doing that would suddenly reveal all his secrets. “Well I prefer live specimens, but I suppose I could always do with another rug.”

Oh gross! “Seriously? Do I look like rug material to you?”

“Wall art?”

Yup, he was gagging now. The very idea a ghost would want to do that just made his spine want to shake right out of him with disgust. “I’d be way out of place, all of the other ghosts here look like animals! You’ll just gross all your hunter buddies out.” Maybe if he pretended to be some know it all like Jazz the ghost would...reconsider making him into wall art? Uurk. What was his life that he even needed to think that?

At least that got the metal monster pondering, massive hand scratching at his chin. “I do wonder if your pelt would only show half of your nature.”

“How about we don’t test that and say we did.” He’d seen some of the knives on the way in and did not want any of them near him thank you very much. Not that he had much of a choice- oh man he really, really did not want to learn why Sam hated the fur industry this way. “Pretty sure I’d just die. More. Or something.”

“Oh, but you’ve seen the other pelts on the way in. They’ve still got enough of a spark to not melt to nothing ghost child. I’m not that sloppy.”

Oh so he could be barely aware wall art. Even better! What would he do, skin him alive or just crush him? Both? “Humans don’t melt.” It was all he could think of blathering out. Don’t think about what the terrifying ghost guy can do Fenton, just don’t.

“True...unfortunately I don’t have another subject to test on.”

Score one for being a unique sort of freaky ghost kid. Maybe. “Soooo how about you just bring me back and rethink the whole uh. Hunting me thing.”

That just got Skulker laughing. “Not a chance whelp.”

“I’m not a whelp! I don’t even fit in with all your monster-things!” It had annoyed him, really. The other ghosts didn’t really...talk? “I’m not some animal!”

More chuckling, as if amused by a puppy chasing its tail. “Of course you are, with that stench of the human world on you.”

“You think I smell. With what nose, metalhead?”

“None of your business. Not to fear, any ghost here can tell you’re a hybrid. That human body you insist on wearing can be felt even when you’re in a superior form.”

Oh, was this a ghosts thinking humans were animals thing? Or was this a ghosts are kinda racist to different ghosts thing. Was there a difference? He probably should have paid more attention in civics. “Yeah well that ‘human body’ needs food.” He wasn’t even going to touch the idea that he was ‘wearing’ his own body, eeeeugh.

“I’ll figure out a solution to your hybrid failings, child. I won’t let a prize go that easily.”

Greeeeeeat.

#Danny Phantom #phic phight 2021 #dannymay2021 #skulker #unfinished im sorry fsljfsfs #i took longer writing then i meant to #but uh. i can use other prompts to finish #or something #i swear this was mostly meant to be funny but i didn't get to the funny bit yet

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tttinytrash · 4 years ago

Text

A prompt from the legendary Shy! I decided to go with this one first because the most ideas to fill in the framework they so kindly provided sprung to mind immediately, but expect the other two they sent along at some point soon. I took the liberty of picking Classic and Underfell Sans for the cast, but the nicknames will probably have made that clear anyhow. I tried to change it up and made the prey brave rather than the nervous wreck I often default to, so hopefully that pans out. Enjoy!

Nerds really do have more fun.

You’re not entirely sure how your socially inept self had made friends as good as these two, but your life had definitely improved exponentially after their addition to it. Red and Classic were both skeletons, but that was immaterial to your friendship with the two.

For the moment you three were tinkering away in the lab the university provided for your research. You were attempting to make a version of the monsters’ inventories that was more accessible for humans, or a TARDIS pocket as Classic had taken to calling the project. You couldn’t argue the accuracy of the comparison, though the name would sadly have to change for copyright purposes at some point. The idea was to make a pocket that was larger on the inside, thereby vastly increasing storage capabilities for the denizens of the world without magical capabilities.

Classic was at the far workbench, going over the calculations yet again while you and Red were closer to the machine actually intended to form the dimensional pockets. The burned scraps of a grocery tote bag, the cremated remains of your latest failed attempt, hung in place in the machine for now despite the machine not being active. Red was shoulders deep in the thing, checking that the soldering on the wires were holding after another failed test. You were busy removing the latest scorches from the machine’s plating when you heard the dull hum start.

You glanced over at saw the machine had started trying to form another rift, without any kind of vessel and without any of you having activated it. Worse, two thirds of the team was not even remotely beyond the safety perimeter! You didn’t even think, you just grabbed Red by the pelvis and dragged him out of the machine. You didn’t even process what he was saying, nor his angry tone as you bundled him up bridal style and bolted from the danger zone.

You were almost in the clear when you heard the explosion behind you and felt the searing heat on your back. Well, as least you’d gotten your more sturdy human body between your 1HP monster companion and the blast, you had time to think.

The pain ebbed as quickly as it came and you felt like you were in freefall...

-----

Red really didn’t know what the hell had just happened.

He’d felt the human yank him out of the maintenance hatch, and the glow and crackling of building energy he could get from over their shoulder as they ran clued him in roughly and mollified his annoyance in favor of concern. Then there was heat and he felt his body fall to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. Classic had been far enough away from the blast to be unharmed, and therefore was free to rush over to where Red lay.

He groaned as the unharmed skeleton arrived, not missing the other’s visual sweep of his body for injury or dust.

“are you ok? where’s y/n?” Classic asked.

Red’s skull whipped back, not finding the human on the floor with him as he’d expected. “i-i dunno! y/n?!”

“Here...” came the weak reply.

Both skeletons homed in on the source quickly, which was oddly Red’s chest.

A tiny human lay on Red’s sternum sprawled as if having fallen. Y/n was severely reduced in size and dazed, but awake an aware much to both skeletons’ visible relief. Red scooped the sluggish human into his hands and did a Check on them. Their HP had definitely taken a hit, but they weren’t in the red. (Heh, nickname pun.)

The trio was collectively baffled, but the relief that everyone was ok for the most part was palpable. They now had the fun task of figuring out how to reverse this change. Oh. And the machine was smoldering, so that probably should be addressed too. This to do list was quickly looking very not fun.

-----

It was agreed upon (more like accepted, really) that a shrunken human really couldn’t live on their own in a house without any adaptations for such a small person. In the long term (Delta forbid this persisted long enough to need a long term solution) adjustments to your house could be arranged. In the short term, the skeleton pair would take turns hosting their human friend at their houses.

Classic took the first night, as he and Vanilla (his brother) had a place closer than Red and his bro, Edge. At the moment, Vanilla was out of the house at a sleepover (arranged before the incident) with Undyne. This left Classic and the human alone, and eventually watching TV together.

You had been set up with a fluffy hand towel for a blanket and set atop a pillow. Your pillow was on the couch cushion besides Classic, who sprawled with the grace of a sack of potatoes on his corner of the couch as he watched the cheesy sci-fi flick on screen. You were both making jokes throughout the movie, but as the night drew on and the ambient temperature dropped, you found your towel wasn’t quite warm enough.

You were waiting for a break in dialogue to ask for another towel, but Classic beat you to it. He looked over as if he were about to crack a joke at the expense of the movie again, noticed your huddled posture, and paused the movie. “you cold, kiddo?”

“Yeah, a bit. Are there any more towels I could pile on, maybe?”

“i’ll do ya one better, c’mere.” He offered a flat palm, waiting patiently for you to board.

You didn’t really have to hesitate, trusting the guy already and curiosity spurred you on as well. He gently lifted you and your towel, dumped the pillow on the floor absently, and moved to sprawl flat over the whole couch instead. This left his chest as a flat plane, on which you were gently deposited.

You sat there, surprised at the new level of contact. Sure, you three nerds had crammed yourselves onto the loveseat at your place to watch TV or game together and ended up with hips mildly wedged against each other and shoulders bumping, but that was the closest you’d ever been. To now be seated on Classic’s sternum was new territory.

“go ahead, get comfy and lay down. i don’t mind.” he encouraged.

You took his advice, curling on your side facing the TV, towel still tented around you. Classic increased the warmth his body offered even more by taking the liberty to partially zip his ever-present blue jacket up to the point that your body was zipped in, but your head was outside the confines of the giant garment.

“better?” he asked.

“Yeah, much warmer.” You could easily affirm.

While this was new territory, his casual attitude towards the whole thing dissipated the awkwardness you were feeling. Without that feeling, you really found you couldn’t complain. You liked cuddling anyhow, so finding a friend was also up for that was a boon in your book.

The movie resumed without further incident, though you may or may not have totally fallen asleep on your friend. Eh, he didn’t seem to mind.

-----

It’d been a couple of weeks since the incident at the lab, and today was Red’s day for hosting y/n. Red was playing a campaign in a very story based game, with the human watching from their perch on his shoulder while Classic lounged on the other side of the couch. Playthroughs of games like this were common with their group, and the three would usually switch off who had the controller each session with the other two chipping in and offering advice.

The biggest difference now was that y/n couldn’t take their turn with the controller, but they seemed content to snuggle into the fluff of Red’s hood, relishing in the warmth of their position by his cervical vertebrae. Ever since becoming small, they hadn’t been able to maintain their heat as well once the sun went down.

“I think I saw something on your left.” they offered.

Red panned the camera that way to find an enemy, which was swiftly dealt with.

“thanks, pipsqueak.” Red said as he collected the dropped loot.

“No problem. Hey, do you think you could get the bathroom door for me?”

“oh, sure.” he paused the game and crossed over to the bathroom. He gently cupped the human into his hands and gingerly set them on the floor just before the threshold. Inside there was a bathroom setup of bitty furniture, an investment that had been made early on for each of the skeletons’ houses. Once they went inside, he closed the door without catching the latch so they could push it open once they were done.

In the meantime, he approached the couch again where he saw Classic grinning at him.

“the hell you looking at?” Red groused.

Classic chuckled “a softy.”

Red felt the light blush on his face, much to his chagrin “shut the hell up. s’not like you aint doing the same damn thing.”

“well yeah, but i don’t try to claim i’m not a softy.”

Red groaned as he flopped petulantly onto the couch. “can’t help it, they’re just so small. plus, this is all my fault anyhow.”

“woah, what?” Classic sat up straighter, humor gone from his voice. “what do you mean, your fault?”

“i was fucking with the wiring when the machine started up. it had to be something i did that caused it to go haywire and blast them. least i can do is help em out when they need it.”

Classic was about to address the mountain of guilt Red had built upon himself, but was cut off by a growl from Red’s stomach.

“you hungry?” Classic asked, though Red knew he already had the answer to that question based on the tone.

Red buried his face in his hands, responding “no, and the human aint gonna believe the ‘i just need a snack’ lie forever. i just wanna protect them so damn bad.”

“yeah, they’re too smart for us. plus, i’ve been using the same lie.”

Red unburied his face, asking “instinct is cropping up for you too, eh?”

“yeah. especially since they get so cold at night. it went downhill fast as soon as i realized we had an easy fix.”

“tell me about it. they were so uncomfortable when they first changed, i didn’t wanna add to the discomfort by asking them about it.”

“well, the machine is back in one piece now so we can start working to reverse this mess come monday when the university lets us back in.”

“yeah, thank delta for that.”

Neither one realized that the human had heard some of their conversation from the bathroom, nor that they refused to accept their friends were apparently hiding something from them.

The human became determined to confront this issue that very night.

-----

Classic had gone home by now and you were settled in your bed, more of a nest of towels and an electric heated blanket than a real bed. Nest was probably a better term.

Red hadn’t come into the room yet (you slept in the same room as him so he could help you off the desk and to the bathroom if you needed to make a trip in the middle of the night) so you instead thought about what you’d overheard and what you were going to say. You’d caught only snippets due to distance, knowing something about an instinct they were both trying to hide from you, and you’d also heard “all my fault” and desperately wanted to address that if it was regarding you, which the conversation had seemed to.

Your planning was cut short when he entered, in a loose black muscle tank and flannel PJ bottoms pattered with jolly roger flags flying over a grey background. He flopped onto the bed without ceremony amongst his tangled blankets and immediately started scrolling on his phone.

You steeled yourself a moment before calling for his attention, leaving your nest behind on the beside table to approach the skeleton closer. “Hey, Red?”

He put down his phone, looking at you with a questioning grunt.

“I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but I heard you and Classic earlier...”

Red looked mildly alarmed “what exactly did you hear?”

“Enough to know you guys are hiding things from me, and it sounded like it was about me. And something about this being ‘all your fault’?”

Red sat up leaving his face a little higher than you, and only a foot of distance from your perch to his shoulder. “yeah, well it is my fault. since i was the one tinkering, the machine had to have been fucked up by me. and now...” he gestured limply at you. “i’m gonna do my damndest to fix it, but i hate that i did this at all.”

“Cut the crap.”

Red looked as if he’d been slapped. He instantly went from hunched and quiet, reluctant to open up to you at all (probably only caving so early knowing you would keep badgering), to sitting straight up, eyes locked on you in obvious shock.

“This was an accident. No one is at fault.” you stated emphatically.

He looked ready to protest, eyebrows tilting down almost as if angry.

You cut him off again. “You never intended for this to happen. I don’t hold you responsible, or anyone else for that matter. But that doesn’t even matter. You just said you were going to fix it. That matters way more than fretting over the past we can’t change. No more self pity. Not allowed. Got it, mister?” You wagged a finger at him, refusing to be the one to break eye contact.

Red’s expression had mollified during your response, and he was the one who lost the game of eye contact chicken when he changed focus onto his folded hands in his lap. “forgot how much spunk you have, looks like the size change didn’t touch that.” he laughed a little.

“You mean you forgot what made us become friends in the first place? I’m hurt, Red.” You feigned pain, placing your hands over your heart.

His laugh was stronger this time “sorry, pipsqueak. won’t make that mistake again.” He ruffled your hair with a two fingers, which got you laughing too as you batted his invading phalanges away.

“you win. i’ll try to focus on fixing, not shitting on myself. fair deal?”

“Sounds good to me, bud.”

You two lapsed into silence.

You felt accomplished, but only half of your mystery had been solved. you decided to risk it and push farther. You’d back off if he resisted though, as you knew opening up at all was asking a lot of your somewhat emotionally constipated friend. “So... what was the instinct you two kept referring to?”

“damn, you’re relentless tonight!” he laughed again, flopping back onto his pillow.

“Well it’s got my two best friends in a twist over it, I wanna know what the hell is going on!” you defend, happy to keep up the more teasing tone.

“fine, fine. but you asked for it.”

“Yeah, yeah, lay it on me!”

He barked a laugh, “alright, pipsqueak. there’s a protective instinct that can rear up among monsters who’re less flesh based. it’s been triggered by your small size and our desire to help, but basically we wanna take you in.”

“Ya lost me right at the end, there.”

“figured i would. skeletons, and some other races of monsters, have the ability to take other creatures inside their own body harmlessly. more specifically, it’d be me and classic fighting the urge to eat you, but safely.”

“Safely.... eat?” The humor left your tone completely.

The humor was gone in his too, saying “yeah, that’s why we didn’t say anything. that reaction right there. but yes, basically eat minus the chewing bit. it’s safe and you’d be let out later, but the idea is to put us between you and danger. pretty damn literally. but a fleshbag like you wouldn’t be a fan and we both knew that going in. now ya know.” he looked away again, not so much looking at anything but apparently not wanting to look at you.

You thought back to all the times you’d caught either of them trying to sneak stomach growls past you or how oddly often they’d been claiming they’d needed a snack, or even that one time Red had tried (and failed) to play off getting caught wiping drool away. It all clicked into place and made so much more sense. But far more importantly, you didn’t like the resigned tone in his voice.

You took a moment to process the new information in stifling silence, then asked “So... you thought I wouldn’t trust you?”

“what?” Red’s skull whipped around to fix you with a baffled look. “that’s not even close to what i said. i just meant it’d be pretty fuckin’ weird to you.”

“Yeah, well I went and made friends with two monsters after having shit luck with humans. I’d say I’m pretty open to new and weird.”

Red just blinked at you.

“If you want to, I’m unopposed. Go for it. You said it was triggered by a desire to help, and that it was safe. I trust you.”

Red’s brows were knit, sockets squinted a bit at you as he sat up. He stared you down like that, feeling like he was looking for the “gotcha” or any fear. You stared right back with nothing to hide, you weren’t afraid and didn’t want to take back what you’d said.

“yer sure?” he asked, sounding suspicious.

“Yep.” You popped the P for emphasis.

“alright. i’ll let you out when you change your mind.” he shrugged, holding a hand out for you to board.

You took that comment as a challenge and sat on his metacarpals confidently.

He brought you up toward his face while his free hand reached up from behind you, wrapping around your ribs under the arms. Using the new grip, he lifted you over his upturned face with your bare feet dangling in thin air over his opening mouth.

Ok, maybe your confidence had left a little. Your legs tucked up a bit in instinct, but you didn’t struggle when he guided your lower limbs into his mouth. You fought the urge to cringe away at the odd slick feeling of your feet sliding along his thick red tongue, or even more so at the feeling of his throat around your lower legs.

You still trusted Red, that wasn’t the issue, so you decided to fight your instincts just as your friends had been fighting theirs and refused to show any fear.

You pulled your arms in close to your chest when his grasping fingers left, and looked upwards as the world was sealed off by a wall of sharp teeth. Thankfully Red didn’t leave you waiting long, as a wet gulping sound drew your upper legs down with a surprisingly strong force. You clenched your teeth at that, barely keeping in the yelp of surprise. Another two gulps followed in quick succession, drawing your whole body into his waiting throat. The tissue around you pressed in, pushing you ever downward.

For a brief moment during your decent, you felt a warm tingling sensation akin to the light buzz you felt the few times you’d come into contact with a magical construct (Red had lobbed a bone attack at you when you’d be particularly snarky a time or two, usually blue so you didn’t get hurt.) This tingle was much stronger, and you couldn’t describe it any better than saying it felt like Red. ...was that his soul?

Your musing was cut off shortly after the buzz of magic left and you found yourself kicking a little in surprise when your legs had room to move. The rest of you spilled into the open space a moment later.

You felt a bit dazed as you just sat there a moment. You were somewhat pulled back down to earth as you felt a pressure coming from outside. It was immediately obvious the pressure was his hand pressing in at you, and the hand started moving, rubbing you from outside in soothing circles, slowly moving up and down your back. Even if you were out of it, you had the wherewithal to realize that was incredibly cute.

“alright, buyer’s remorse set in?” he asked.

“No...” you breathed, not quite done processing your current situation.

“you ok in there?” his tone was more concerned, the rubbing stopped but the pressure of his hand remained.

“Y-yeah!” You shook your head as if that would help clear the fog, clicking back into reality. “I’m ok. Wow, this is just... a lot.”

“sure you don’t want out?”

“Do you want me out?”

“...didn’t say that...” he mumbled.

You laughed, which earned you a half hearted growl.

“Hey, is it ok if I move around a little? I really want to, uh, check the place out now that I’m here if that’s cool.”

“oh, sure. i don’t care.”

He removed his hand, which left you free to experiment. Call it childish if you wanted, but you really wanted to feel out your new surroundings in an exceedingly literal sense.

-----

Holy shit this went so much better than he’d ever thought it’d go. The human was inside, no panic, and their soul had settled from the anxiety he’d been feeling during their decent. Guess they’d gone and proven him and Classic wrong. Again. Maybe he should expect that by now.

For now he laid back, feeling them slide back to the new lowest point as he got comfortable. He also very much heard their tiny squeak when they startled at the movement, which brought out a smile on him. He felt them quickly readjust, then felt a small point of pressure pushing outwards. A tiny moving bump raised in his shirt, showing where their small hands were pushing out. He didn’t protest, finding this all quite amusing.

On a whim, he used two fingers to push at that little raised bump. He heard them laugh, and then the bump showed up on a new spot, disappeared, and showed up again in yet another. This was a bizarre version of whack a mole, but he did play along until they ended the game with a breathy giggle.

They were moving again, probably trying to stand given the two distinct points of pressure. They slowly wobbled a few steps before he distinctly felt the impact of them falling over.

He laughed aloud at the “I’m good!” they called out.

Their movements inside were calm, but distinctly curious. It was all highly endearing on top of feeling good. The quieting of the protective instinct at last was also a welcome absence, leaving him feeling comfortable and secure. He didn’t really try all that hard to stifle his subsequent yawn.

The responding, smaller yawn from inside was a bit of a surprise.

“tired?”

“We were getting ready for bed, dingus.”

“fair point. we turning this into a sleepover or you going back to your own bed?”

There was a pause, then “Fuck it, sleepover.”

“fine by me, pipsqueak. g’night.”

“Goodnight, bonehead.”

He felt their weight settle, then relax as they slipped into sleep. He decided to follow them, hands folded over his stomach to protect the precious cargo inside.

#undertail vore #undertail underfell vore #extreme cuddling #safe vore #soft vore

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journalxxx · 4 years ago

Text

By Hook or by Crook (3)

August 12th, 2277

Izuku lay on his bed staring at the screen of his phone. He'd already typed in the emergency number, but he hadn't started the call yet. He honestly wasn't sure if this qualified as an emergency or not. Probably not. But it was kind of a big deal. Kind of massive. For him, anyway. He wasn't even sure if his father could respond in the first place. A couple of months ago, he'd said he'd be likely to resume his normal phone calls soon, but maybe his throat hadn't fully healed yet. And what if that polite colleague picked up instead? Izuku certainly couldn't tell him about… all that.

He hadn't told his mother either, or the doctor. He didn't want to cause trouble, neither for himself nor for Kacchan. But he really, really felt the urge to tell someone. He'd been waiting for this moment for so long, and it had gone so inexplicably wrong.

His thumb tapped the green button.

It took less than five seconds for the call to connect.

"Izuku. What is it?"

"Hi... Dad..." Izuku started, but he found himself trailing off. He hadn't heard his father's voice in so long and, while still recognizable, it was very different. Rougher and somewhat distorted, as if he was speaking through… something metallic?

"What's going on?" His father pressed when the silence stretched. It suddenly occurred to Izuku that the man could be misinterpreting his hesitation as the kind of situation that may warrant an emergency call.

"Ah… N-nothing much, actually. I'm not dying or anything. Mom's not dying- no one's dying." He blurted out, hurried explanations rushing out of his mouth bypassing any form of brain check. "This isn't really an emergency. More like… an emergence. Of my quirk."

The silence from the other side of the receiver was deafening. Wow. Inconveniencing his still convalescent father for no serious reason, and topping it off with a pun. Izuku wouldn't be surprised if he decided to hang up on his face.

"...Sorry. I shouldn't have called." He apologized. "D-Does it still hurt to speak? Ah, never mind, we can talk about that next-"

His father's sigh came through as a brief burst of static. "Where are you now?"

"At home. In my room."

"Alone?"

"Yeah."

"...Why don't you tell me what happened then?" The softer timbre of his father's voice lifted a weight from Izuku's chest. And the tale of the afternoon's events spun almost by itself.

Lately, it didn't happen often that Izuku and Kacchan hung out without the rest of the gang. His friend was a natural-born and enthusiastic leader, and he enjoyed having people around to let him play that role. But that day someone had homework to catch up with, someone else had the flu, a third one was grounded… So it had been just the two of them. They had headed to the usual spot by the small river, to stave off the heat. Which didn't seem to especially bother Kacchan, who had been trying to blast an anthill to smithereens with his quirk. He had casually remarked, as he often did, what a pity it was that Izuku would never develop one.

Izuku didn't know why he hadn't let that comment slide, like every other time. Arguing on that point never helped, it always made things worse. But this time he had answered back. That his quirk would manifest one day, sure as hell. And then he'd joked that they'd have a match to see who could exterminate the most ants in one minute.

Kacchan hadn't liked that. At all. He never did take well to amicable competition.

Do you see this? Huh? Look, take a closer look. Kacchan had said, holding his palm mere centimetres away from Izuku's face, so close that he could feel the heat from the small explosions popping off from his skin. This is what a quirk looks like. Looks like you still can't tell the difference between a quirk and nothing, nerd. 'Cause you have nothing. Nothing's all you'll ever have.

"This friend of yours- sorry, what's his name again?"

Izuku was startled by his father's interruption. "Kaccha- I mean, Katsuki."

"Why was he so aggressive? Did you two have a quarrel before this?"

"Oh, no. He's just… he's just like that."

"...He's just like that?" His father repeated. It was a bit difficult for Izuku to read his tone now that his voice was so muffled and unfamiliar. "This is a common occurrence? Him using his quirk to hurt you?"

"Oh no, no no! He didn't do that! He never does that, he knows it's bad!" Izuku hurried to elaborate. "He just uses it to… show off a little. Sometimes he blows up stuff. Things can get a bit rough when we play, but he never burns people with his quirk. He's very good at controlling it!"

"...And this is your best friend we're talking about." His father didn't sound terribly convinced. Izuku felt the necessity to make things absolutely clear.

"He's a cool guy, dad. Really. He's great. He's smart, and talented, and strong, and brave… He just has a bit of a short temper. His mom's like that too."

There was a long pause. "...I see. Go on."

Well, even if Izuku knew that Kacchan wasn't going to hurt him (not much, not with his quirk, at least), at that moment he was still pretty upset. And Kacchan kept waving his explosive hands uncomfortably close to him, and he kept going on about how Izuku would never get a quirk, and it was… it was just so unfair, that's what it was. It was unfair that Izuku would have to wait for God knows how long for what his father had assured him (multiple times) would eventually happen, while Kacchan always let his anger run away with him. Izuku had felt a heady burst of resentment, and he had grabbed Kacchan's wrists with both hands, trying to shove him away, and that's when it had happened.

He had managed to send Kacchan staggering into a nearby bush. But at the same time, a sharp pain had spread in both Izuku's hands. It wasn't the searing of an explosion, it was more as if his palms had been stabbed by a big needle. He had checked, and found two small, circular marks on them. They were like scars, but very old ones, already closed and healed, definitely not bleeding.

He hadn't had time to process the fact. Kacchan was already back on his feet, shouting and marching towards him, reaching for him with his arms thrown out before him, fingers clawed in the familiar position they assumed when he summoned his quirk…

But nothing had happened. No explosions. Not even a spark or a flicker of flame. Kacchan had stopped in his tracks, flabbergasted. He had tried again, to no avail. And Izuku, on his part, had felt it. That awareness. That visceral perception that something had changed inside him, that there was something new in him. Something he could summon himself. He had flexed his fingers, and done it.

A small explosion. Right there, in his own hand. It hadn't burned at all.

Give it back! Kacchan had screamed at him when they had both emerged from their quiet stupor. Izuku had stepped backwards in fear, tripping down on something. He had raised his hand to defend himself from the impending assault, and shot off another blast, a bigger one. Too big. The recoil had hurled his arm backwards, bent his wrist painfully, sent it crashing against a rock. It had hurt a lot.

Give it back! Kacchan had yelled after he'd stopped laughing, laughing at how hopeless Izuku was even with a stolen quirk, laughing at how the useless nerd had managed to injure himself even before Kacchan could touch him, and probably more severely too than Kacchan would have dared.

GIVE IT BACK! Kacchan had howled while dragging him into the shallow river. He'd pushed him down, pressed his hands into the stream, cunningly exploiting his own weakness. The water washed away the sweat from Izuku's palms before he could even try to ignite it. He was harmless, pathetic, impotent, even with Kacchan's impressive quirk.

He had given it back after he'd promised Kacchan that he would, as soon as he let go of-

"What?"

"Uh? What?" Izuku echoed obtusely.

"You gave it back?"

"...Yes. Of course." Izuku blinked. "What… what else could I do? I promised him-"

"You could have just kept it." His father sounded surprised. Very surprised. "He was using his quirk to threaten you and hurt you. Why would you give it back to him?"

"I…" The notion that he could have just lied and ran away with Kacchan's quirk hadn't even entered Izuku's mind. "I didn't even know how to use it. All I could do with it was hurt myself. I-"

"You could have learned how to use it, over time. You could have obtained the quirk you so deeply desired. You could have deprived a bully of a dangerous weapon. You could have made him understand what it feels like to be on the weaker side of a confrontation."

Izuku heard those words, but they didn't fully register. "...I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"...It's Kacchan's quirk. It's his. I couldn't keep it." Izuku said simply.

Another long pause. "...What happened then?"

"Kacchan just left. He was very angry, he said he'd- that I'd better never use that 'trick' again on him. I came home too, but my wrist was swollen and achy, so mom brought me to the doctor. It's fine though, I don't think it's broken." Izuku recounted, wiggling his bandaged arm subconsciously.

"Did you tell your mother what happened?"

"...No, I… No." Izuku hesitated. "I just told her I slipped on some wet rocks."

Izuku himself couldn't quite put his finger on why he'd wanted to hide the accident from everyone except from his father. Something about how easy it had always been to talk to him, how he was always ready to listen to everything Izuku wanted to say, even things he clearly didn't care about. He may have been present in Izuku's life for only one or two hours a month, but Izuku truly felt that, for those one or two hours, his father's attention was solely focussed on him. Something about the distance too, maybe, which made him more akin to an imaginary friend than to a real parent that could dish out tangible punishment, worry and contempt. Something about this aura of wisdom and confidence and calm that his polished words and deep tone always radiated.

"Who else knows about this?"

"Uh… No one, I think. Just Kacchan and I."

"And when did this all happen, exactly?"

"Earlier this afternoon. At around 2 or 3, I think?"

"I see." His father's voice sounded distant. "Sorry, Izuku. Do you mind if I put you on hold? Don't hang up, it'll only take a minute."

"Oh, of course."

There was a soft click, and the speaker went silent. Izuku remembered with a flash of guilt that his father was probably working at the moment. He hoped he hadn't caught him at a bad time. Maybe that had to do with the fact that his voice was so weird. Maybe he was wearing some sort of disguise or protective gear?

Click. "I'm here."

"Sorry if I bothered you for something like this. You're busy now, aren't you?"

"I have nothing urgent on my plate. Actually, I'm glad you rang. This could have turned into quite the problem if you had waited another two weeks to inform me."

"Uh? Why?"

"Do you understand what happened today, Izuku?" The gentleness of the question somehow alarmed Izuku more than if his father had been scolding him.

"I…" He gulped. "I think I stole Kacchan's Explosion. With my quirk. That was a quirk, right?"

"Yes. That was our quirk."

Izuku's brain screeched to a halt.

Our.

"Your… Isn't your quirk Fire Breathing?"

"That is one of my quirks, yes."

There was silence as the pieces fell into place in the kid's head. There may very well have been an earthquake, and he would have barely noticed it. "You can… take quirks too?"

"Yes."

Izuku had so many questions that it took him several seconds to even decide where to start. "W-Why have you never said so?"

"Because that too is classified. The very existence of our quirk is classified." His father paused, then resumed almost tiredly. "I see I should have warned you about this regardless. Truth to be told, I was expecting your quirk's first appearance to unfold… differently. I guess it doesn't matter now."

Izuku sat up as he kept listening, hanging on his father's every word.

"Our ability allows us to take other people's quirks permanently, and use them as our own. As you have already discovered, we can give them back as well. Another very important perk is the capacity to store many quirks inside us at the same time. A great many." His father stopped again. "Do you know what this means?"

Izuku shook his head negatively, forgetting that his father couldn't see him. His silence conveyed the message anyway.

"This means that our quirk is powerful. Astoundingly powerful. More powerful than Fire Breathing or Hellflame or Explosion or Fiber Master or Foresight. Because it can be all those quirks at once."

Izuku's mind was reeling. It was... unimaginable. He thought of all his favorite heroes, all the top heroes, all the most incredible powers and skills… all concentrated into a single individual. He thought of Endeavor, Jeanist, Yoroi Musha, Gang Orca, Nighteye…

All Might...

"The downside of our quirk is the cost it has on the owners of the quirks we appropriate. They are rendered quirkless, unless we decide to grant their abilities back." His father went on. "You can imagine the implications of this."

He could. He could imagine having the power of taking All Might's quirk - not only becoming a hero like All Might, but practically becoming All Might himself… at the cost of mutilating the original.

The mere notion made him dizzy.

"That's… that's not right…" Izuku stuttered, drawing his knees to his chest. "It can't be used in that way…"

"Most people would agree with that sentiment, yes." There was a sort of… disappointment, of weariness in his father's voice that Izuku had never heard before. It unsettled him deeply. "Most people would claim that it's a quirk that handicaps and feeds on others, that can only be fuelled by theft, prevarication and selfishness. An inherently villainous quirk, if you will."

"That can't be true." Izuku objected, curling up on himself even more. "It… depends on how you use it. All quirks do. I'm not going to use it like that, ever-"

"That wouldn't be enough to discourage those cynical voices, I'm afraid. Power terrifies people who don't have it, Izuku. A type of power as overwhelming as ours, all the more so. They wouldn't need to see you abuse your quirk to condemn you, the mere fact that you could do it, if you ever decided to, would be enough to draw suspicion and distrust on you."

"W-What does it mean?" Izuku's breaths left his mouth in a rush as his eyes started to burn, the telltale signs of an impending burst of tears agitating him even more. "What do I have to do?"

The man took his sweet time to reply, and for a terrible moment Izuku thought that even his father might be at a loss as to how to deal with the situation. "As things stand, I would encourage you to act as if your quirk never manifested, in order to avoid negative attention."

"But Kacchan already knows. He'll tell someone, his parents at least…"

"I doubt it. If he's as clever and proud as you describe him, I think he'll understand the dangers of doing so. He'll realize that you could take his quirk for good at any given moment, and he'll choose not to anger you. Or he may simply refuse to acknowledge your superiority over him, and behave as if nothing happened in the first place. I can imagine many reasons that would lead him to keep your secret without you even asking him to - in fact, I would strongly advise you not to, and shove the whole thing under the rug. It would be for the best of everyone involved."

Silence fell again. Izuku's head buzzed with fear, confusion, doubts. It didn't make any sense, none of it. "I… can't use my quirk? Never? I will never be able to use it?"

"There are certain powers, certain weapons, that instil so much fear in humans that one can only either bury them deeply and pretend they don't exist, or bear them unhesitatingly lest the fearful tear their wielders apart. It is an unavoidable reality of life."

Tears rolled down Izuku's cheeks freely. "Y-You… you said you have more than one quirk. You used yours. Are you… doing it secretly? Is that what the whole 'classified' thing is about?"

"...My circumstances are unique." His father answered, after a slight hesitation. "I certainly do not flaunt my original quirk carelessly, nor do I have it printed in bold letters on my personal documents. The government is aware of my ability, but gaining my immunity from their wrath was no small feat. I honestly cannot imagine someone like you going to such lengths to achieve the same result. Not as you are now, probably not as you will be in the near future."

A few things were starting to make sense now, things that Izuku had always brushed aside as amusing or perplexing eccentricities of his father's. His unrelenting reticence about his job, a job likely tied to or issued by the government, a job that kept him separate from his family and that robbed him of time and leisure, a dangerous job he probably wasn't all that proud of. The kind of dirty, ambiguous job Izuku saw in movies and read about online, the kind of job where law and ethics sometimes parted ways. The kind of shady, hushed-up, unrewarding job that might make anyone envy a shining, pristine, beloved symbol like All Might.

"...I'm sorry." He sobbed, because he was, even if he wasn't sure what for. For being unable to walk the same path as his father, maybe, or for the grief the man's work surely caused him.

"There is no reason to panic." In a moment, his father's tone had recovered his trademark, comforting composure. Its effect on Izuku's nerves was immediate. "Luckily, today's incident was trivial and self-contained. As long as you don't reveal your quirk to anyone else, your life will go on unchanged."

Unchanged. As if Izuku hadn't been waiting his whole life for it to change. As if the quirk he thought he'd welcome as a blessing hadn't turned out to be some sort of nightmarish curse. It was a cruel joke, but it was no one's fault. He'd just have to adapt to it.

His father seemed to read into his wordless discouragement very easily. "I'm sorry, Izuku. I'm afraid I have to go now, but we'll talk more about it soon. Don't lose your sleep over this, there's no need for concern right now. Can you promise me you'll stay put at least until next month?"

"...Yes, of course."

"Wonderful. Have a good night, Izuku."

Izuku stared at the wall blankly, the call ending with a low beep. For the first time in his life, talking with his father had made everything feel remarkably worse.

October 1st, 2277

"How are things between you and Katsuki lately?"

"Same as usual. We… don't really hang out much any more. Or at all. He just keeps ignoring me all the time." Izuku mumbled, his spirit instantly dampened by the subject.

"That may be for the best. At least you won't have to put up with his inopportune mood swings, no?" His father offered encouragingly.

Admittedly, there was some truth to that. Izuku did feel a little less stressed, a little less constantly on edge every time the two of them happened to cross the same street or bump shoulders in class. It was reassuring to know that Kacchan wouldn't do anything worse than staring daggers at him, and his varying cohort of backers never took the initiative when it came to openly hostile behavior. It was… fine, in a way. And yet, Izuku missed their strange, complicated sort of closeness anyway. Kacchan really had been the first person Izuku had ever considered a friend, and he was sad to see this friendship, as unpleasant and troublesome as it could be at times, degrade into a quietly rancorous acquaintance.

"...I guess." Izuku glossed over. "I would like to talk things through with him though. I know you think I shouldn't, but-"

"If Katsuki hasn't brought up the matter yet, he probably has no intention of ever doing so. There's no point in being pushy with him. No doubt he's had a lot on his mind these past months, after all."

"Yeah, I know." Guilt squeezed Izuku's stomach in a tight grip. It was very self-centered of him to keep obsessing over his quirk, he should just be happy that Kacchan was safe and sound, all things considered. "I'm not even sure I could manage to talk to him alone. His parents always walk him everywhere he goes, and I think the police are still keeping an eye on him."

"It's understandable, and all the more reason for you to stop fretting about all this. Your secret is safe, and so is he. A fortunate conclusion all round."

"Mh." Izuku couldn't fully share his father's optimism, but he supposed the whole situation was at an impasse anyway. His eyes fell on his notebook, closed atop of a pile of school textbooks, and he decided it was time to tackle another tricky discussion. "...I've been having a little trouble with my quirk research lately."

"Oh? Have you stumbled upon an especially puzzling one?" His father took the bait, his interest immediately piqued.

"Yes. Ours."

"...Ah."

"I've been looking for any kind of information related to quirk-stealing abilities. I've found mentions of similar ones, from copycats to erasers to temporary absorption… Nothing quite like ours, though." Izuku hesitated. "I have found some rumours though. Here and there, in forums and old uh… clickbait-y articles."

His father's progressive de-escalation from proper replies to monosyllables to complete silence was a familiar pattern, and not a concerning one per se. At the very least it meant he was willing to give Izuku a chance to make his point, so he continued.

"It's all very vague. There are no details about the ability to give quirks back, or about palm marks. But all the hearsay is centered around this… this mysterious figure who lived around the era of the advent of quirks and who is said to have been able to steal them."

"I know all about those rumors."

"Do you?" Izuku had never pegged his father for the kind of man who'd spend his time digging for gossip around the internet… but then again, the last months had proved he knew less than he thought about the man. "They say… they say he was a criminal. The most dangerous villain who ever lived, even. It's all a bit exaggerated and unrealistic, I know, since there's no mention of anyone like that in history books-"

"It just goes to show how fantastically threatening our quirk would seem to the average person." He replied casually. "It is literally the stuff of legends of our modern age."

"Do you know if there's any truth to it? Or if they're just stories?"

A pause. "...It is true. It's part of the reason why I've been so insistent on you keeping quiet about your quirk. You'd better avoid being connected to those rumors if you plan on having a peaceful life."

Izuku balked. That was uncharacteristically forward on his father's part. And it was a disconcerting piece of information to boot. And it raised a further, even more disquieting possibility. "Did that villain have the exact same quirk as us? Was he… related to us? A grandparent, a great-grandparent…?"

"The real issue here, Izuku, is that it doesn't matter." His father said sternly. "The issue is that anyone who is aware of those voices - or worse, anyone who knows them to be true - will react in the same way you did. They will suspect or presume you to be a descendant of that criminal, and you'd have no way to prove them wrong."

Izuku wanted to ask if his father was speaking from experience, if his subtle bitterness and extreme caution were the result of the blatant prejudice he had had to deal with personally. He couldn't quite gather the courage to do so, though. "Very few people know about this though, right? It wouldn't be that much of a problem day-to-day…"

"It depends on the kind of people you'd have to deal with in your daily life. It would be enough of an obstacle to prevent you from pursuing your dream career, for example."

"What? You mean becoming a hero?" Izuku frowned. "Why?"

His father sighed deeply. "Picture this, Izuku. The government of a country was once almost overthrown by a dangerous villain with a certain quirk, and it has been trying to suppress any information about that evildoer ever since. The same government also handles the designation and retribution of all heroes in the industry. One day, a young man with the same devastating quirk as the aforementioned criminal appears, and he applies to a hero academy - an institution which, among other things, trains its students to fight, strategize, be reasonably charismatic, refine and master their quirks to their fullest capacity. What do you think the government would do when faced with the possibility, however remote, of accidentally grooming this young man into another nation-wide calamity?"

Izuku felt as if the whole world was crumbling beneath his feet. There was… there was only one rational conclusion, wasn't there? "...They wouldn't take that chance. They wouldn't let him become a hero. They wouldn't want him to use or train his quirk at all, to be on the safe side."

"Exactly-"

"But- but…!" No, it couldn't be the only way this would unfold. Surely they wouldn't be this gravely biased, surely there had to be some way to prove his good faith, surely… "What if I used my quirk differently? In a way that would never harm anyone? I could… I could just borrow quirks instead of stealing them! Borrow them during an emergency and give them back as soon as it's over-"

"I'm afraid our quirk isn't well-suited to that kind of application." His father countered plainly. "While we do acquire an immediate, basic and instinctive understanding of any quirk we take, it is rarely sufficient to deploy it efficiently and safely right off the bat, unless the quirk is particularly simple in its mechanics. You experienced this first-hand when you sprained your wrist with your first sizable explosion. It takes practice to become proficient in each ability we receive, and without enough time to learn beforehands, you'd be more of a liability than an asset on the field."

The cold, ironclad logic of that long speech gutted Izuku more neatly than a knife. The boy squeezed his eyes, focussing on the problem, thinking, thinking, thinking… "There has to be some way though. There has to be…"

Silence stretched as he struggled against frustration, fear, discomfort, disappointment. He only needed to think, to come up with an idea, a single good idea to demonstrate that this amazing quirk of his wasn't necessarily a menace-

"...There could be." His father said, oddly tentative.

Izuku perked up, hope and gratefulness springing in his chest. "How?"

"You could simply pretend to have a different quirk. Take someone else's, just the one, and pretend it was your original quirk. Become a hero using that, and only that."

That wasn't what Izuku wished to hear. Not at all. "That means I'd still need to steal from someone, dad. I-I can't-"

"There are ways to acquire quirks that don't involve outright robbery, you know." The man sounded mildly peeved now. "Just think about it. A friend blessed with a quirk they don't like or get much use out of, donating it to you out of sheer good will. An old relative on their deathbed, willing to pass on their ability before it gets lost along with their life. An acquaintance debilitated by some illness or chronic condition that renders them unable to draw on their power, entrusting it to you rather than letting it stagnate within themselves."

Izuku pondered on those words. Even though they were all quite specific and uncommon situations, they sounded sensible… on paper. As purely theoretical possibilities. On the practical side, however… "I don't think I'd ever want to take a friend's quirk, no matter what. Being quirkless is… I wouldn't wish it on anyone, honestly." He didn't bother adding that he had no such close friends that would ever consider sacrificing their quirks for his little pipe dream. "And I really wouldn't want to pester old and sick people for something like that. I'd feel like I'd be taking advantage of their suffering…"

"Not even that, uh…?" His father sounded thoughtful. It was odd hearing him so unsure of his words, for once not the impeccable source of complete answers and well-spoken certainties. "Duplicity does not come naturally to you, nor does greed. It is unfortunate that you were endowed with a quirk whose maximum potential hinges on both."

"...What do I do then?" Izuku asked, feeling his hope and energy melt like snow under the sun.

"With strict morals such as yours, I'm afraid your hands are tied." The man paused. "Do you trust my judgement, Izuku?"

It was a rhetorical question, obviously. His father had been right about Izuku eventually getting a quirk. He had been right about Kacchan keeping his secret. He had always been right about anything they had ever talked about. There was no doubt that, if there was anyone in the world who could analyze the current predicament, predict its developments, advise for the best course of action, it was his father.

"Of course."

"Then keep holding your cards close to the vest. Maybe things will change one day, and you'll find more options available to you. But for now, you would gain no advantage from exposing yourself to public scrutiny. You would only attract suspicion and enmity. Keep your quirk hidden and play it safe. Your very life and safety may depend on your discretion."

March 2nd, 2280

"It… rewrites DNA?"

"Exactly. Every time it is used, both on yourself and on others. Despite their seemingly complex functions, quirk factors tend to be encoded and clustered within a relatively small number of genes. Our quirk allows us to detach them from all chromosomes in the body at once, transfer them and reallocate them - think of bacterial plasmids, albeit with a higher degree of complexity."

Izuku hummed, tapping the head of his pencil against his chin as his father's information seeped into his brain. "If DNA is the means through which quirks are transferred… I guess one does not need a… a whole, living human being as a source." Izuku let his thoughts trickle through his mouth unbidden, aware that his father never minded his rambling observations. "...What about a corpse? A very… fresh one, I guess? One which hasn't started decaying yet, not even a little bit. Could you take its quirk from it?"

"Alas, no. For the same reason why we can't collect quirks from detached limbs or single cells, for example. The donor must be a living organism. It is a stringent requirement. The moment the person dies, their quirk becomes unreachable for us."

"The moment the person dies…" Izuku toyed with the concept in his head. Vague memories of wandering internet searches and dramatic soap operas resurfaced. "Isn't that… difficult to establish though? Like, there's cardiac death, brain death… Total death? What applies here?"

"'Total death', I suppose." Izuku's father answered with a trace of humour. "There is a markedly... spiritual side to our quirk - to many quirks, in fact. The death I'm talking about is the loss of what makes a human being truly alive. Call it however you want - soul, mind, life force, spirit, personality, will. The essence of their being."

A pause, then the man spoke again. "I'm afraid that's as precise an explanation as I can give you. I wish I knew more about it myself. It is a tremendously fascinating subject." Izuku nodded in agreement, absently scribbling a small Quirks tied to souls??? on a corner of the receipt for the ice-cream he had bought on the way back from school.

"Izuku? Are you taking notes?" Izuku flinched as his father's tone suddenly turned severe. Had he heard the pencil scratch on paper? Curse his unreasonably sharp ears- "I told you a hundred times never to write down any information about our-"

"I know, I know! Sorry! It's just a habit!" Izuku rummaged through the drawer to find an eraser and immediately remove the offending line. "I wasn't writing on my notebook, it's just a scrap of paper I had lying around. I'm getting rid of it… right now..."

A long-suffering sigh crackled through the speaker. "...Still. I'm quite surprised that you're already considering ransacking graveyards and morgues in order to obtain quirks. It didn't occur to me to try my hand at desecration until I was much older than you."

"I'm- I'm not considering it!" Izuku sputtered, failing to find the eraser and electing instead to just rip the corner off the receipt and swallow it. "That would be incredibly disrespectful! Also a crime!"

"Right."

"I'm just… brainstorming. Keeping an open mind for unseen possibilities." Izuku sighed, not bothering to hide the familiar sting of annoyance. "You know, it wouldn't hurt if you were a little more forthcoming about how you obtained your yet-unspecified number of quirks. Surely you don't expect me to believe they all come from nursing homes and emergency rooms…"

"Izuku." There it was again, that cautionary edge that tinged his father's voice increasingly often as of late. On the bright side, Izuku was growing sort of accustomed to it, finding it easier to simply power through it.

"...I've been reading up on Tartarus lately." He threw out there, twirling his pencil in his fingers. "Not that there's much to read about it. They keep a close lid on any information regarding their security procedures and systems, which is fair. I do wonder though, what kind of measures they may have in place to restrict such a large number of dangerous quirk users."

His father didn't seem to have any comment on the topic, so Izuku decided to lay it on a bit thicker.

"They used to cut hands to punish thieves in certain countries a long time ago. It doesn't really happen any more, it violates all sorts of human rights. Coincidentally, there are rumors of multiple lawsuits for human rights violations being brought up against Tartarus." Izuku paused emphatically. "I'm sure that if the government knew of a way of 'amputating' quirks from incarcerated villains, it would be a strictly classified matter."

His father let out a quiet laugh. "So your current working hypothesis is that I'm obtaining my quirks from those who make poor use of them or are deemed unworthy. Your mind works in truly admirable ways. I'm starting to worry that one of these days you'll show up right on my doorstep."

"So it's true then?"

"Even if it was, do you think I would be at liberty to say?"

Izuku dropped his head on the desk and exhaled in frustration. Deflections, deflections. Even a frank denial was too much to hope for. There was no winning against his sphinx of a father.

"Have you given some more thought about what to do after middle school?" The infuriating man asked with the most casual of tones, as if they'd just been chatting about the weather. He wasn't even trying to be subtle with his diversions any more.

"Yes, and I haven't changed my mind." Izuku muttered, recognizing a losing battle when he saw one. "I want to try the admission test for the hero course at U.A."

A sigh. "I don't even know how I can be any clearer. Heroes aren't going to accept in their ranks someone with your-"

"I'm not going to use my quirk." Izuku interrupted him, with more pluck than he actually felt. "I… I've been wanting to apply since way before my quirk appeared. I'll apply as I would have applied if it hadn't. As quirkless."

Izuku heard some odd tinkering noises coming from the speaker. "I wish I could put this more kindly, but that is a fool's errand."

"It isn't against any of their regulations. There are no precedents, but-"

"Spare me the innocent talk, you're too smart for that." His father's voice cut through him with unusual vehemence. "They don't need regulations to politely dismiss people they presume worthless. A quirkless applicant would be the very embodiment of that worthlessness. You know it as well as I do."

"So you aren't even going to let me try?" Izuku hated the way his voice almost cracked on those words. He hated that he couldn't truly find it in himself to resent his father for being always, unfailingly right.

"...Whatever gave you that impression?" His father sounded genuinely taken aback.

"The fact that you're shooting me down like a trained sniper?!"

"Don't misunderstand me, I'm merely supporting my argument. I have no intention of stopping you. I don't think I even have the right to, really. I'm not exactly a prime example of involved parenthood."

Izuku's jaw hit the proverbial floor. That was… unexpected. "So… you aren't going to stop me. Even if you think it's stupid."

"One has to fall before he can learn how to walk." The man replied with mock solemnity, then he continued more seriously. "If I forbade you to attempt the test, all you'd gain from it would be a long-standing aversion to me and the lifelong regret of not knowing what you could have become, had you been given the chance. Neither of us would benefit from that. If I let you pursue your silly dreams to their inevitable failure, however, you may actually learn some valuable lessons about the importance of realistic objectives and the pointlessness of moot idealism."

That was... less unexpected. Izuku's shoulders dropped. Well. Questionable pep talk aside, at least he'd obtained an outspoken permission. He'd take what he could get. "Thanks, dad. You always know what to say to brighten my day."

"I try my best." His father chuckled. "If you could indulge my obsession for common sense for another moment… what are your spare plans in case of rejection? What other careers are you considering?"

"I… haven't quite worked out a plan B yet." Izuku bit his lip, blatantly caught out. "I-I still have a whole year to decide though. I'll pick some other possibilities before the end of school."

"There will always be plenty of paths open for you, Izuku. Way more than you know." His father sighed, a hint of sourness tinging his voice. "I only wish you would consider them.”

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #all for one #deku #izuku midoriya

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shitpostingfromthebarricade · 3 years ago

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@themandilorian tagged me to answer fic questions! Thank youuuuuuuuuu, I love doing these. <3

how many works do you have on AO3?

Christ, 84 plus the Witcher crackfic I wrote under my incredibly subtle pseud.

what’s your total AO3 word count?

388,267, though I have a fic that'll probably be hitting 70k before it's all said and done that'll be going up ... before November? So 450k soon.

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Uh, depends how you count fandoms. Realistically, just one (Les Mis), but according to the fandoms view I also technically write for Untitled Goose Game and 19th Century CE France RPF. And Witcher.

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The View From Here (aka the balcony fic)

Define "Dating" (my second to oldest published fic ft Enjolras trying to take Grantaire out on dates and Grantaire in severe denial)

Early Mornings, Late Nights (the one where Grantaire wakes up early and Enjolras stays up late)

By the Glory of the Sun (amnesia AU ft horny Grantaire)

Rainy Days (kidfic ft calls from the principal and no kid)

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I dooooooooo. <3 I spend so much time creating these fics and inventing details and backstories that never make it to the light of day, so I love having an excuse to talk more about the story and process. Also, I just love hearing from y'all? Of course I'll respond???

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Ah, hm, several of those, angst was my specialty for a long while. It still sometimes is, but it was, too. Maybe The Lies We Tell Ourselves in the Dark? Prague is just sad the whole way through, same with Enjolras's Prayer and The Tempest. His Love Letter also starts more innocuous and gets sadder.

have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not including most responses to Empereur's Mercy (<3), not really?

I do know that one fic wasn't particularly well-received, but that's because it was a fic I wrote directly in response to someone being an asshole in a friend's comments and didn't include the context for privacy reasons. The fic was a very pointed response with lots of quotes from the other person, but without having seen the original conversation it can be easily interpretted as a general criticism, so I see why people weren't thrilled.

do you write smut? if so what kind?

Not really. There has been one glaring exception (What Greater Thing is There?), and another will be up soon-ish, but any smut I ever publish with either be exclusively to advance the plot or as pure crack.

have you ever had a fic stolen?

If you count those apps that were hosting peoples' fics without permission, yes, but otherwise no. I've been very lucky in that way.

have you ever had a fic translated?

HeavenlyGift translated Define "Dating" into Russian!!!

have you ever co-written a fic before?

It's not published yet, but thecandlesticksfromlesmis and I are about to hit three years (17 Sep, I think?) co-writing the fic that inspired All That's Left of Us!

what’s your all time favorite ship?

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ... I dunno. I'm not sure. Valjean & Cosette (ampersand is platonic)? Courfius? Whatever those two funky lesbians in Sailor Moon have going on? Anne and Gilbert? Fantine and A Fucking Break?

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I recently decided that I'm going to revisit my Giant Fic and make an effort to finish it even though my HCs don't align anymore!! Otherwise, I have a ton of ideas and kinda WiPs that could be finished but probably won't be simply by merit of there being so many. The one that comes to mind as being one that my HCs grew beyond before I could do more than outline it is the bodyswap fic with Combeferre and Grantaire that would have needed to be written from 3 PoVs and would have come out to probably ... 40k? A lot of effort for something I only ever had about 16k worth of interest in.

what are your writing strengths?

I think banter, pacing, and (when I choose to) worldbuilding.

what are your writing weaknesses?

Anything involving physical affection. @thepiecesofcait is always the first to point out the absolute hoops I don't even realize I put myself through to avoid writing physical contact. I've been trying to expand my horizons, but also consider: I could not.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

INCREDIBLY contextual. I think if it's the PoV character, you write what they understand: if they do understand the language, write it in the language of the rest of the fic. If they don't, don't put words that they can't understand, just say "[person] says wome words in a language [PoVC] doesn't understand." If the other person is throwing in slang or swearing or something alongside the common language, it makes sense to put it in the other language verbatim, but that's mostly because it's one of those things where even if the PoV character can't understand the exact word, they can probably figure out the meaning with context clues.

Also, of course, a good pun may require language swapping. Gotta have it.

If you do feel compelled to keep it in the original language, though, I would say to figure out linked footnotes so the reader can see the meaning immediately if it's important enough to include. This often breaks up the flow of the story/conversation, though, so use it wisely.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

Definitely Les Mis, although 7yo Shitposting loved daydreaming about a slumber party with all of the Disney princesses talking about palace life and their husbands and such. (I still have not seen Wreck It Ralph 2, but the trailer fulfilled every single childhood dream of mine.)

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

This is like asking my to choose a favorite child??????

I'm still extremely proud of en l'Année 2014, but as I started listing the other fics that still spark joy for me, it's occurring to me that my favorite fics are ones where I got to explore new character dynamics and relationships eg Courfius, Fantine & Marguerite, Valjean & Cosette, Ep & Gav, Javert's backstory in the Web Series AU, etc.

Tagging @starkey, @serinesaccade, @thelibrarina, @annabrolena, @lesbianjolllly, and anyone else who wants to do this!

#tag game #personal #writing #this was really really fun and I am so happy I got to do it #even if I did it instead of getting ready for work WHOOPS

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dazais-guardian-angel · 4 years ago

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Hot take: Bakugou's character wouldn't survive if not for the one he kept abusing all his life. 90% of his character revolves around his victim and yet the fandom paints him as this super developed, fleshed out character when in reality he'd never be anything bigger than a side character if not for Deku.

Also the concequences he supposedly received are just him being teased or not getting the win he wanted, no being kidnapped doesn't count, he literally got away with his shit while even been treated like a victim and the privilege to know something about Deku that isn't any of his business. And now because he sacrificed himself that one time the fandom acts like Izuku owes his ass anything. It's disgusting.

I have given up on him actually being half the decent character ppl make him out to be and the fandom reaction to him makes me hate him even more.

He's not complex, he's just a pretty boy, asshole archetype who gets nicer and has some more cooperative and ppl love to eat that shit up while making up stuff for him. He changes but he's doesn't change for what matters and definitely pales in comparison to other characters who are better written than him.

(holy shit, did they remove the character limit on asks?? omg a GODSEND)

Well yeah, if it weren’t for Izuku and how he treats Izuku he wouldn’t have anything to improve from; people only think he’s developed because he no longer outright bullies him and “””worries””” (I say in heavy quotes) about him, and “reflects” on how he treated him even though he.......... comes to the absolute wrongest, most idiotic conclusions imaginable, that put the brunt of the excuses on Izuku instead of himself, but Toshinori validates him because Horikoshi has made Toshi into Bakugou’s uwu stan and stan of the two boys’ “friendship” (completely ignoring the fact that THIS KID FOR TEN YEARS BULLIED HIS SON). He’s basically already been devolved to acting like a side character for a long time now, with his funny anger quirk pun partly intended that’s just treated like a joke at this point, just like everyone else’s character quirks, even though it would be far more interesting for him to, you know. actually get some therapy and learn to calm himself and become an actual pleasant person to be around. But that’s not what makes him “funny”, that’s not him, according to most people, so he’s always going to stay like this, a boring angry pomeranian who flies off the handle at everything for no reason, who has done the absolute bare minimum of “changing”, which makes him a perfect character in everyone’s eyes.

“He changes but doesn’t change for what matters” pretty much sums up the problem with him in a nutshell, and is the exact reason he frustrates me so much, that I’ve ranted about plenty before. Bakugou has never been viewed through the lens of a bully, an abuser, he was never set up to be that, at least not realistically, and so his development hasn’t happened in accordance with that setup either, and people don’t have a problem with it and actively praise it because the manga actively downplay(ed)s the severity of that origin story. People can ignore the reality of how seriously traumatic being bullied for ten years of your childhood, verbally and physically would be, and how seriously and with such sensitivity such a relationship and character arc must be handled, because aside from the very first chapter when Izuku and Bakugou are still in middle school, really, with the “take a swan dive off the roof” comment and others, it’s never focused on in that way ever again; ever since, it’s just been treated as a typical anime “rivalry”, that both of them need to better themselves to overcome. The story and teachers say “the two of them are so alike but they just keep missing each other; if they just made up for each others’ weaknesses and understood that they both want the same thing, they’d be stronger together!”, and Izuku HIMSELF tries so hard to reach through to Bakugou, always still considering him his friend, always feeling like he’s the one equally at fault for their relationship being as rocky as it is, when BAKUGOU!!! FUCKING!!! BULLIED HIM!!! FOR TEN YEARS. bullied a DISABLED CHILD, which again, as a disabled person who relates to Izuku and how he felt about his quirklessness, feelings that continue to affect him even long after he gets a quirk because of how he was treated when he was younger, is DEEPLY unsettling to me. You CANNOT read/watch MHA without the metaphor of quirklessness = disabled being very apparent, and so that makes Bakugou’s bullying and how it is so utterly glossed over and purposefully forgotten a hundred times more disturbing and aggravating than it already is! If this were any other shounen rivalry then yes, it could be resolved with effort from both parties, because both parties have their own personal reasons for why they have trouble getting along with the other, and the fun is watching to see how they will overcome those, but Izuku and Bakugou were never on an equal playing field to begin with; this is a bullying story, with its victim trying desperately to win over and befriend his abuser, when he owes him absolutely NOTHING and has a BOATLOAD of unresolved issues thanks to said bullying, with no outside help from adults for either of them because none of them are acknowledging it as fucking bullying. I guarantee you that if the manga went into much more painful, bleak detail and showed many more flashbacks of how Izuku was treated by Bakugou in the past, and then still continued with the “development” he’s had since, people would be unable to ignore it like they can now, and it would make all of them extremely uncomfortable like it does those of us now who already dislike him. Hori himself has said he doesn’t understand why Bakugou is so popular, but he’s able to just continue as he does with him because no one is complaining, and because he said he regrets making him so awful in the beginning, as if that magically makes it disappear as much as it already has in 90% of the fandom’s collective mind. You wanna know an actual good manga that also deals with a bully of a disabled child growing and improving himself and forming a close relationship with his former victim? A Silent Voice. Such a journey is long, and hard, and it is painful, with many ups and downs and many nasty, hateful, guilt-filled, depression-filled feelings from both sides, along with from other characters who either also partook in the bullying, were bystanders to it who did nothing, or were indirect victims as well. The bully is bullied himself after what he does, and then grows up nearly suicidal, closing himself off and struggling to be social and make new friends because he doesn’t know how and doesn’t entirely feel like he deserves it (and the story notably doesn’t go the route of “he was abused too at home and so that’s why he bullied”), and tries and fails many times to make amends with the person he hurt before he finally is at peace with himself and everyone; the victim, meanwhile, drowns in continued guilt and suicidal feelings over feeling like she’s a burden to others, both from her disability and from watching all the infighting and victim blaming and finger pointing that ensues between her old classmates when all of the nasty emotions are brought back to the surface, along with dealing with budding romantic feelings for her past bully when he genuinely starts being kind towards her and making an effort to connect with her. ASV is entirely about this complex narrative, it’s able to dedicate everything it has to telling this story tactfully and with all the time and attention it needs. MHA, meanwhile, is a shounen battle manga, and so it was never going to do this narrative and Bakugou’s arc justice, even though I honestly think it could have if Hori really wanted to, because Izuku and Toshinori’s relationship has such masterfully subtle and touching emotions and care, at least early on; Horikoshi knows how to write good, subtle character arcs. I’m not asking for something ASV level, of course not, when the series has so many other things it has to juggle. I just wanted Bakugou to be treated as exactly what he is: a former bully, who can be taught, and learn, and reflect, and change, and become a better, more humble, more interesting person, and actually become someone worthy of all the praise and love he gets, not only for Izuku’s sake, but for his own, as well. They don’t excuse his actions in the slightest, but it’s still undeniable that Bakugou himself is a victim of how the adults in his life have treated him and raised his own expectations of himself, giving him the crippling insecurity issues he has, and that they continue to harm him (and Izuku) by simply letting him continue to go on angrily the way he does, instead of getting him help and some therapy in order for him to change and heal from things like being kidnapped by villains (which is no small thing to go through!! on top of his guilt over Toshinori’s final battle!) and becoming a better person to the one he hurt in the past, and it all just makes me so sad, not because I’m all “uwu poor Bakugou”, but just cause his character deserves better, as a person he deserves better, just like Izuku deserves better than everything he’s gone through because of him. This is all just a very long-winded way of agreeing with you OP that yes, none of Bakugou’s “punishments” for his behavior mean anything because he’s punished as a rival student who needs to humble himself in order to get along with his friend he doesn’t like, not as a former(??) bully who needs to be separated from his victim. The bar is set so low, was never set where it should be, and so absolutely no progress to “better himself” Bakugou makes either will mean anything, as long as it’s never acknowledged that he needs to make amends as a bully and abuser.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #my meta #replies #'i've ranted about this in-depth so many times; I'll keep it brief this time' I say #3 hours later:#every fucking time #the bakugou salt will never go away #and never will I cease being disturbed and disgusted by just how easily the fandom glorifies his development #and glosses over the reality of what he's done #'izuku has forgiven him so it's fine' IZUKU 👏 IS 👏 A VICTIM 👏 HIS WORDS 👏 MEAN NOTHING #HE IS BIASED TOWARDS BAKUGOU BECAUSE OF HIS LOW SELF-ESTEEM #AND HE HAS NEVER THOUGHT THERE WAS ANYTHING TO FORGIVE #AS LONG AS HE BELIEVES THAT THERE HAS BEEN NO IMPROVEMENT ON BAKUGOU'S END #god that scrapped cover concept of middle school Bakugou spitting blood makes me so fucking mad #'look it symbolizes that his old self is dead' THEN PROVE THAT HE'S ACTUALLY LEARNED ANYTHING #PROVE IT TO /IZUKU/#MAKE AMENDS AND APOLOGIZE THE WAY ONE SHOULD #Anonymous

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emy-loves-you · 4 years ago

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(Slightly) Less Useless, (Definitely) Gayer Chapter 8

Interrogations

Janus doesn’t get a lot of time to be alone with Virgil’s boyfriends, but it’s those few moments that truly count.

Chapter 7 | Masterlist | Chapter 9

Janus Williams was a busy man. He was the CEO of Hydra Hydraulics, and even with Thomas as their manager, Janus made sure to have a say in the financial and legal dealings of The Dark Sides. When he wasn’t working, Janus was spending time with Remus and/or Virgil. Because of this, Janus didn’t have many personal hobbies, nor did he have enough time to properly interrogate Virgil’s boyfriends. Even though the four of them had been living together for over a month (and dating for 3), Janus still did not fully trust the three men who claimed to love Virgil. Sure, his suspicions had significantly lessened since he first spoke to Logan all of those months ago. But if there was one thing that Janus learned from his parents, it was that people can have multiple faces, some of which they’re not even aware of possessing. Janus frequently flipped through multiple faces like they were simple party masks. He was harsh and unyielding when dealing with Hydra Hydraulics. He was sly and mysterious when playing as Deceit. He was sarcastic yet caring when interacting with Virgil and Remus. He was vulnerable and completely head-over-heels when he kissed Remus behind closed doors.

Janus knew about people being two-faced or even three-faces (hell, Janus himself was four-faced), and he suspected that Virgil’s boyfriends weren’t all that they seemed. There had to be something that he didn’t know. And Janus was going to find out what it was.

And if those faces had the potential to hurt Virgil?

Well, Mother and Father taught him to always have a fifth face, just in case.

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Janus sighed as he changed out of his suit. He’d spent the past few hours dealing with stupid employees, and right now he wanted nothing more than to relax and watch some shitty romcoms. Normally he’d watch them with Remus and Virgil, but both of them were busy. Remus was doing something with Roman (some sort of spa day?) and Virgil was spending the day with Logan and Patton.

Just as Janus sat down with his snake-themed pajamas and face mask (because self-care is necessary) his phone went off. Janus sighed, expecting it to be one of the supervisors with a stupid question. He blinked when he saw the caller ID.

Patton Morale

Even though Janus had given Virgil’s boyfriends his number (in case there’s an emergency) he didn’t actually expect Patton to text him. Janus quickly unlocked his phone and read the text.

P- (3:46 PM) Hey, Janus! Are you busy right now?

P- (3:46 PM) You don’t have to respond if you’re busy! I was just wondering

Janus frowned at the texts. This sounded nothing like Patton’s happy, quirky self. He sounded like Virgil back before he’d gotten close to Janus. While he was mainly sarcastic and rude, there were times where he was really anxious and vulnerable. Janus decided to answer truthfully.

J- (3:47 PM) I am doing nothing important at the moment. What do you need?

P- (3:47 PM) Oh, I was just wondering if you wanted to bake some cupcakes today. I know how happy you were when you made breakfast for Remus, and I thought baking would be fun!

J- (3:47 PM) Would you prefer to do this at my house or Virgil’s? While I have a bigger kitchen and better cooking supplies, I don’t believe I have most of the ingredients.

P- (3:48 PM) Your house is fine! I’ll bring the ingredients over

J- (3:48 PM) Then I will see you when you arrive

Janus sighed as he turned off the TV. He then went upstairs to change into something more presentable. Sure, he was skipping his self-care day, but this was the perfect opportunity to learn more about Patton.

Fifteen minutes later, Patton stood in his doorway, multiple bags of ingredients in each hand. “I thought we could try different types of cupcakes,” Patton explained as Janus took a few bags to carry. “I have the ingredients for vanilla, chocolate, and red velvet. Plus, I thought we could make some homemade frosting!”

When they prepared the first batch of cupcakes (vanilla), Janus was silent as Patton led him through each step. When they got those in the oven, they decided to prepare the chocolate cupcake batter next. Janus didn’t notice any major changes in Patton’s behavior until they put the chocolate cupcakes in the oven and let the vanilla cupcakes cool. Janus made the red velvet batter on his own while Patton made the icing for the vanilla cupcakes. Patton had started humming a tune under his breath as he stirred the icing. It took Janus a moment to realize that he was humming the tune of Lies, one of Janus’ songs. Janus had to admit, Patton was good at humming the lyrics. Patton hit all of the muffled notes, and even paused for the right amount of time instead of skipping it. Janus smiled as he hummed along, making sure to keep his voice low. It took a few minutes for Patton to realize that he was duetting.

Patton yelped as he dropped his spoon. “Sorry, I didn’t even realize I was humming! That must’ve been really annoying. I’m sorry, I’ll stop rambling now.”

Janus frowned. “Patton, you weren’t annoying me. I was humming along. I’m a rock star, it was flattering to hear you hum my song. And you have a lovely voice.”

Patton blushed, but there was something else in his eyes. “T-thanks.” He turned back to the icing, and Janus let it go.

There were several instances after that where Patton would move to do something fun or silly and stop halfway through. He would hum the first few words of a song before going dead silent. He would move as if to twirl or do a grand hand gesture before stopping abruptly. He would open his mouth to (Janus assumed) give a cheesy pun, but no sound would come out. Every time, Janus would let it slide. He assumed that Patton was still embarrassed over the humming incident.

But the final nail in the coffin came when Patton went to get the chocolate cupcakes out and caught his arm in the oven. He yelped and Janus immediately ran over to reopen the oven. Patton quickly pulled his arm out, still gripping the cupcake tray. He sat the tray down on the stove while Janus moved to check his injuries. Patton immediately shied away. “I’m fine, just clumsy ol’ Patton!” He started mumbling to himself. “Stupid, clumsy Patton.”

Janus grabbed Patton’s wrist, forcing him to face Janus. Janus turned off the oven before leading Patton to the nearest bathroom, where he knew a medkit was. He knew enough about burn injuries from the few times Virgil or Remus would burn themselves. Patton had a nasty looking burn along his forearm, which Janus treated to the best of his ability. After a few minutes, Janus spoke up. “What’s wrong? Besides the burn, of course.”

Patton stared for a moment before smiling. “Nothing’s wrong, silly! Why would anything be wrong?” Janus could practically taste the lie.

“You’ve been acting odd all day. Did something happen?”

Patton shook his head. “No! Nothing’s happened. I promise.” Janus frowned but conceded, refocusing on the bandages. Patton seemed to be telling the truth, but Janus would talk to Virgil about it, just in case.

Later, Janus and Patton were icing the chocolate cupcakes. They had decided not to make the red velvet cupcakes, and the batter was sitting in the fridge. Patton was silent as he meticulously iced each cupcake. Janus was sneaking glances every few minutes, trying to figure out if the silence was from their earlier conversation or if Patton was naturally silent when he iced cupcakes.

Patton’s hands suddenly shook a little, and Janus watched as he made an uneven pattern on the cupcake. Nobody would even notice or care, but it seemed to make Patton’s shaking worse. “S-sorry.” Patton stuttered out, and Janus suddenly realized that Patton was crying.

Janus carefully grabbed Patton’s chin with two fingers and forced him to face Janus. Patton’s eyes remained glued to his hands. “Patton, please look at me.” It took a moment, but Patton slowly looked up into Janus’ eyes, and his entire body started shaking. “Patton, tell me what’s wrong.”

Patton took a shaky breath. “I-I’m fine, really.” When Janus didn’t let go of his chin, Patton caved in. “It’s just… some days there’s a not-so-nice voice in my head. I’ve always had it, and I don’t like being alone when the voice gets loud. Usually, I’ll have one of the others there to keep me company. But Ro’s spending time with Ree, and Lo is on a date with Virgil. I thought I could spend the day with you, but all I’ve done is make you worry and I’m so sorry you have to deal with me-”

Janus tightened his grip on Patton’s chin, and Patton stopped talking. Janus took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking. “I… have a not-so-nice voice as well.” Patton’s eyes widened, and Janus took that as a sign to continue. “My parents weren’t good people. It took a lot of convincing on Virgil’s part for me to realize that they were hurting me. Not physically, but mentally and emotionally. Some days I hear a voice telling me that they were right. It tells me that I’m worthless, and it tells me to do things that I know I shouldn’t do. On the days around my birthday they get really loud, and I can’t hear anything else. Remus and Virgil have to keep a constant eye on me or I’ll do something I’ll regret. That’s how I got this scar.” Patton’s eyes immediately go to the scar on Janus’ face. “I had just wanted the voices to be quiet, but they only got louder-”

“But you have a reason to have voices!” Janus looked back at Patton, who was still crying. “You were hurt! I wasn’t! My voice has always been there, and I’ve never had anything really bad happen to me. I have three amazing boyfriends and the job of my dreams! I don’t have a reason to feel like this! I’m just weak and stupid-”

“Stop.” Patton’s mouth snapped shut. “Just because you don’t have any trauma, does not mean that your voices are any less important than mine. They’re still there, and you came to me because you knew you shouldn’t be alone with just the voice. And the fact that you trusted me enough to come to me and tell me this… It means you're very brave, Patton. And I am honored that you trust me like that. And if you ever need me to help distract you from those thoughts, or if you just want to hang out, don’t be afraid to reach out.” He carefully took the icing bag from Patton’s shaky hands. “Now, why don’t we leave these here for a moment? I’ve found that making fun of shitty romcoms can really cheer people up.”

Patton nodded, tears still streaming down his face. “That sounds like fun.”

They entered the living room, and Janus suddenly realized that their clothes were covered in flour and other baking ingredients. “Come with me.” He led Patton upstairs and past his own room to another door. “This used to be Virgil’s room before he moved out, but he keeps a few sets of clothes in here for when he stays over.”

Patton frowned. “Janus, I’m quite a bit… wider than Virgil.” He blushed as he half-heartedly gestured to his own body.

Janus smiled softly. “There’s nothing wrong with that. And besides, Virgil prefers looser clothing, so I’m sure the clothes in here will fit you. Plus, I’m sure Virgil would appreciate seeing you in his clothes.” He saw Patton blush harder and smirked. He opened one of the drawers and picked out a baggy t-shirt and some sweatpants. “Put these on, and be careful of your bandages. I’ll change in my room, and we’ll meet downstairs. We’ll watch romcoms and give each other facials while we eat cupcakes. Does that sound reasonable?” Patton nodded. “Good, I’ll see you then.”

As Janus put on his snake pajamas for the second time that day, he contemplated the man in the other room. Janus had been afraid that Patton was secretly manipulative behind his caring persona, but he couldn’t have been further from the truth. Because under the face of bubbly joy and compassion, Patton was an injured soul, just like Janus.

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Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

Janus looked up from his philosophy book to look at Logan, who was reading a similar philosophy book. The two of them were alone in Janus’ library. Patton and Roman were both working, and Remus had dragged Virgil to some event going on downtown. Janus and Logan had no new information to share (*cough* gossip *cough*) so the two of them were enjoying each other’s company while reading. However, Logan’s phone had just started vibrating. Janus watched from the corner of his eye as Logan read the texts with a small smile on his face before answering.

“Did one of your boyfriends just text you?” Logan jumped slightly, apparently forgetting that Janus was in the room. He shook his head.

“No, it was just Sam. They’re my friend and classmate. I’m sure you’ve heard of Patton’s employee Katherine?” Janus nodded, remembering the stories that Virgil would tell about his interactions with Patton and Katherine (or Kyle, depending on the day). “The two of them have been in a romantic relationship for several years. Sam was just asking me for my opinion on where their next date should take place. They tend to overthink things a lot, and it can be amusing to read their mile-long text about how much they want this to be perfect for Katherine.”

Janus nodded before realizing something. “You said that Sam is also your classmate? I know you go to the local college, but what are you studying?”

Logan blushed. “Astronomy, along with a few classes in public speech and teaching. I wish to work at the local planetarium.”

Janus frowned. “You’re taking those classes, plus you bought a house and Patton’s bakery?”

Logan nodded. “We’ve taken out several large loans over the years. We’ve paid off the house loan and most of the loan for Patton’s bakery, but we’re still paying off the loans for my schooling.” He turned back to the book, and Janus blinked in surprise.

“You do know that we would help you pay for those loans, correct?”

Logan stared for a moment. “But they’re my loans. It’s my responsibility to pay them off. And ever since we started living with Virgil and no longer have to pay for housing, we’ve had more money saved up to pay them off.”

Janus’ eyebrows furrowed. “You deal with the finances too? I assumed that was something Patton dealt with.”

Logan shook his head. “I deal with all of our budgets and our daily schedules. The others tend to forget how much money or energy they are spending, so I have to be the one to ‘reel them in.’”

Janus pressed on. “Along with your college education and your job at the library? How do you have time for anything?” He knew he was a hypocrite for saying this, but Janus needed to know. Was Logan some sort of perfectionist, who needed to be in control of everything? Or maybe he didn’t actually do half of this, and he was lying? No, he couldn’t be lying. Janus was pretty good at telling when someone was lying, and Logan seemed pretty truthful.

Logan sighed. “In all honesty, I don’t. Every moment of my day is mapped out to make life easier for me and my partners. Today was supposed to be used to spend time with Virgil, but I understand he hasn’t had any personal time with Remus lately. Still, their planning was so sudden that I now have nothing to do for the next few hours, and it makes me feel… inadequate.”

Janus nodded, finally understanding. “You feel as though you must use your actions to prove your worth as a person and boyfriend. And when there is no action to be performed, you feel as though you failed. That’s why you keep yourself busy.” Logan nodded, and Janus sighed. “I keep myself busy for a similar reason. I do so to prove that I am more than what I was taught to be. I am a CEO, and a singer, and a friend, and a boyfriend. Not just a conniving snake or a whiny brat. I have a purpose, and I sometimes feel inadequacy when I’m not actively fulfilling it.” He set down his philosophy book, having lost the intention of continuing. “But Logan, you don’t need to spend every moment of your life proving yourself. I know for a fact that you could ask for just about anything, and Virgil would bend over backwards to make it happen. Because he loves you for you, not for your actions or your purpose. He loves you for your intelligence, and your love of sweets, and your desire to debate. He loves the way you scrunch your nose when he says or does something odd. He loves the fond exasperation you have every time he or Patton or Roman show grand displays of affection.”

Logan blinked, his mouth hanging open slightly. “He… does?”

Janus nodded. “Yes, he does. He tells me this almost every day. Every moment he’s not with you three, he’s thinking about you. He’ll go on for hours about how much the three of you mean to him. And Logan,” Logan blinked again. “Just because you like to be busy, doesn’t mean that you can’t rely on others. Physically, mentally, emotionally or financially. Virgil will do anything for you, and I’m willing to pull a few strings for someone who can make Virgil smile as bright as he has been over the past year.” Was Janus being a hypocrite about asking for help? Yes. Did Logan know this? Maybe, Janus couldn’t tell. But it didn’t really matter at the moment, as the two of them shared a smile before turning back to their books. Janus was happy to note that Logan’s posture was much more relaxed, and he seemed more interested in the book.

Janus smiled as he read his book. He had feared that Logan was cold and controlling. But behind his face of diligence and intelligence, Logan was a tired soul, just like Janus.

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“Roman, please tell me those swords aren’t real.”

Roman scoffed, twirling one of the swords in his hand. “No, but they’re authentic enough to be fun to spar with. So, do you wanna spar?”

Janus stared at the swords in Roman’s hands. They looked like fencing swords, with white and black hilts respectively. “And why do you wish to fence with me?” Roman had specifically asked Janus to meet him at Virgil’s house for this. He was the only one home at the time, so it was just the two of them in the backyard.

Roman sighed. “Because no one else would say yes and if I asked Remus he would find a way to turn it into a fight to the near-death.” He smirked. “Besides, imagine how hot you would look to Remus if you could fight with a sword.”

Janus sighed, taking off his coat and hat. “You’re not going to let me say no, are you?”

Roman smiled as he handed over one of the swords. “Nope! Now, here’s what you’ve gotta do.” Roman talked Janus through the proper stances and how to hold his sword.

After a few minutes of practicing, Janus asked the question that had been on his mind for a while. “Roman, where did you find these swords? And how do you know how to fence?”

Roman shrugged. “Since I’m friends with the owner, I’m allowed to keep a lot of the props from our plays. We just finished one that included a fencing scene. The other actress and I were given lessons on how to fence so we wouldn’t hurt ourselves.” He laughed, and Janus suddenly felt a chill go down his spine. “And now that I’ve given you equal footing.” He began moving his sword with much more speed and precision, and Janus struggled to block. Even though Janus knew that the sword couldn’t harm him too badly, seeing Roman like this made Janus’ defences kick into overdrive. “Now is the perfect time to ask about your intentions with my brother.”

Janus struggled to even comprehend the question as he blocked the blows. “What?”

Roman laughed again, letting up for a moment. “You heard what I said. What are your intentions with my brother?”

Janus huffed. “What are your intentions with Virgil?”

Roman smiled as he continued striking with his sword. “My goal is to make my boyfriends feel just as much love as they make me feel. If they ever feel like my love for them is waning or falsified, then I have failed.” He put all of his force into the next swing, and Janus could no longer hold onto his own sword as it was knocked out of his hand. “But you dodged the question. What are your intentions with my brother?”

Janus then realized something. “You’re his next of kin.”

Roman frowned tilting his head. “Yes? What does that have to do with your intentions?”

Janus sighed, nearly slouching with relief. “My family has always been a stickler for traditions. While most of those traditions are homophobic or mysogynistic, there are a few that still mean a lot to me. One of them is getting permission from parents. All of my family is dead, so I only needed permission on Remus’ side. I told his parents of my intentions, but I was unable to get their permission. I’ve been spending the past few weeks wondering what I would do since I didn’t have their permission, but the two of you essentially disowned your parents. So naturally, permission would go to next of kin-”

“Janus!” Janus’ eyes snapped to meet Roman’s, and Janus suddenly realized that he was hyperventilating. “Look at me. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Match my breathing.” Janus forced himself to calm as he matched Roman’s breathing. Why was he so nervous? He had been completely calm and collected when talking to Mr and Mrs Prince. So why was this so much more special?

Because Remus cares about Roman. Virgil cares about Roman. Roman had the ability to take away everyone that Janus had.

“Janus, look at me.” Janus tried to focus on Roman’s voice. “I know you’d never intentionally hurt my brother. Whatever you’re trying to say, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Just calm down, collect your thoughts, and let it out.”

Janus did just that. He took a deep breath, collected his thoughts, and let it out. “I’m asking for permission to marry your brother.” There was silence. Janus tried to figure out what Roman was thinking, but his face was impassive. “Roman?”

“Does Remus know?”

Janus swallowed before shaking his head. “No, Remus doesn’t know. I’ve been worrying myself out of my mind for a while now. Besides, the four of you have provided enough chaos over the past few months. I wanted to wait until things calmed down before proposing.”

Roman pressed the tip of the sword to Janus’ neck. “If you so much as think about hurting Remus, I will make you suffer a pain worse than death. I just got my brother back, and I’m not losing him to anyone.”

Janus closed his eyes. “If I ever hurt Remus in any way, I would wish for nothing more than to suffer for eternity.”

There was a moment of silence before the sword was removed. A hand was put on Janus’ shoulders and he suppressed a flinch. “I trust you.”

Janus’ eyes snapped open to meet Roman’s. His face showed nothing but compassion, a big difference from Janus’ shock. “What?”

Roman smiled. “You say you never wish to harm Remus, and I trust you. You have my blessing.” He leaned down and picked up Janus’ sword from the ground. “Would you like a rematch? And perhaps some assistance in proposing?”

Janus gave a shaky smile, accepting the sword. “Yes, to both.”

Janus smiled as he clashed swords with his future fiance’s brother. Janus had assumed that he was aggressive, like he’d shown himself to be in other instances. But behind the face of cockiness and pride, Roman was a protective soul, just like Janus.

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@itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @whatishappeningrightnow @idont-freaking-know @cute-and-angsty-prince @girl-who-reads @count-woe-laf @im-an-anxious-wreck @ent-is-undecisive @shadowylemon @stopthe-presses @the-sympathetic-villain @echo-goes-aaa @everythingisstardust

#Sanders Sides Fic #Useless Gays #Janus Sanders #Patton Sanders #Logan Sanders #Roman Sanders

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goodfish-bowl · 4 years ago

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Red

DP Side Hoes Week Saturday Prompt Valerie - Hero

I’m a bit late with this one, but I was determined to finish. I also have all the other ones finally up on my AO3 if you want to find all of them easier. ust been a bit busy the past week.

Summary: Valerie finally manages to capture Phantom after a particularly brutal fight with Skulker.

Warnings: there’s blood and gore, I did a thing, you’ve been warned

Words: 1547 (longest one)

AO3 link

Valerie had always fancied herself a hero. Not like Phantom, but a true hero who saw things as they actually were. Ghosts were destructive and cruel, maybe not always evil, but the world would be better off without them in the long run. The dead should stay dead, and she was merely helping them get there. She, Valerie, the Red Huntress, had always been a hero in her own head. But right now, holding an ecto-rifle to the back of Phantom’s head while he struggled to even remain conscious, she didn’t feel like one.

Phantom’s green ectoplasm was smeared and leaking all over both the alley and himself. The fight with Skulker had been a rough one, and Phantom could barely move, arms tightly clutched over his bleeding wounds. His aura was dim and wavered in and out, but the sheen of ectoplasm was brighter than ever, especially since he had lost much more than a person who was bleeding out reasonably could. It’s matted his hair, coagulating like blood, and healing his body so fast she could see the skin slowly creep close on some of his more minor wounds. But his ankle was broken, and some of those deeper gashes would be closed in a couple of hours, even at the rate he was healing. Phantom was weak at the moment. Skulker was currently sitting in Phantom’s stolen thermos. It was just him and her right now.

Valerie didn’t hold the same views on ghosts as the Fenton’s did. She knew ghosts could feel, some had once been human. They felt pain, or at least imagined it. If they believed they were supposed to be in pain, then they were. Ghosts were creatures of subconsciousness, based on their own former consciousness, melded together by ectoplasm. Not all of them were evil either, some, like Phantom, had good intentions, but still brought destruction with them nonetheless. Phantom thought he was a hero, or he acted like it, and never seemed to acknowledge the extent of the destruction he had brought onto Amity Park. To Valerie, it made everything so difficult. It would’ve been easier if Phantom was malicious, but he was a ghost who didn’t know better. Who was he to care about the state of the living? This was why she had to look out for the people of Amity Park and get rid of the ghosts no matter their intentions.

Valerie hadn’t earned this. Here she had the biggest threat to Amity Park, right at gunpoint and weakened where he wouldn’t be able to fight back. But she hadn’t been the one to bring him to this point, she hadn’t earned her revenge against Phantom, but her feelings were irrelevant in the grander aspect. She needed to get rid of him if she was to make Amity safe again, so she could be the hero Amity deserved.

Phantom’s breathing shuddered, whether out of fear or pain, she didn’t know. Phantom didn’t need to breathe, but he did so anyway because he believed he needed to. Valerie often wondered about this strange ghost, who looked to be her own age, “protected” Amity and all of its residents and regularly got the shit beat out of him by both her and other ghosts alike. What made him so different? Was it a territory thing? Obsession?

“Hey, Red, nice night we’re having, huh?” Phantom quipped, voice wavering.

He was scared. Scared and injured, yet he still spoke.

“It is, actually. There’s a nice breeze, the night is crisp, and I have a ghost at the end of my rifle. Nothing could make this night any sweeter,” Valerie returned.

“About that… can we do this another time? I’m a bit tired at the moment, but I promise I won’t ghost you next time.” And there was the pun. God, she hated those stupid puns.

“Sorry, Phantom. No can do. I’ve got a quota to fill tonight.”

Phantom swayed a bit, wavering where he knelt and went to look at her, but a nudge from her weapon stopped him. There was a moment of silence before either of them spoke again. Valerie was waiting, she knew she was, she just didn’t know for what. She had so many questions for Phantom, and he was in no place to refuse any of them, yet she couldn’t bring herself to say them.

“Well, if you’re going to shoot me, Red, you might as well do it soon, I would prefer it if you did. This silence is killing me.” Phantom said.

There was another moment, then “Why?”

If he had been facing her, Valerie imagined he was raising one of his eyebrows. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that, Red.”

“Why are you like this? You quip and make jokes when you’ve had the shit beaten out of you, even when I’m holding a gun to your head, Phantom. You’re hated here in Amity, you know that, but yet you still come back and getting the shit beaten out of you. So, Why?”

Phantom let out a long exhale, and his shoulders sagged, he turned to face her, and she didn’t stop him this time. He had healing cuts on his face alongside green bruises. He would’ve had a black eye had he been human. He was healing fast though; he’d be able to escape if she delayed much longer. But his eyes, windows to the soul, and from the look in them, he had one. She could see guilt, pain, misery, and most of all, regret.

“Because this is all my fault. If you’re going to kill me, then do it soon, and have the Fenton’s close the portal, and most of the ghosts will leave,” he said, tone low but his eyes challenged her to do it, but Phantom looked so sad.

“How is this your fault?” It was a demand, definitely not a question. She didn’t want to make him feel better, not after what he had done to Amity, not what he had done to her. But why would Amity’s whole ghost problem be his fault?

“I’m the one who turned on the portal.”

Oh… that made sense. Nothing happened in Amity before the Fenton’s portal had powered up, it was the beginning of it all, and Phantom had been one of the first ghosts spotted.

Valerie remained quiet for a minute, contemplating, and watching Phantom deal with his own injuries, his gaze no longer meeting hers. Guilt, that’s what drives him. But it was all his fault. And now, she could fix it all. She could get revenge. She could save Amity Park. She could prove to herself that she was a hero. Valier powered up the ecto-rifle and removed the barrel from directly against Phantom’s head. She saw Phantom stiffen, preparing for his own doom.

Rage bubbled up in her gut. Of course, this was all his fault, it always had been. Phantom had a habit of ruining lives, hers included. He deserved this for what he’d done, not just to her, but all of Amity Park.

Valerie steeled herself and the rifle matched her emotions, red hot. She waited no time pulling the trigger this time. Phantom made a vain attempt to escape, launching himself into the air like a rocket, but the crimson energy blasted him in the small of his back, knocking him clean out of the air and into the brick of the alley. He didn’t get up this time.

Valerie let out a shaky breath. Of course, just when she was ready to put Phantom out of his obvious misery, he would attempt to bolt, because she had waited too long. But that rifle could dissipate low-level ghosts with one semi-clean hit and usually severely injured anything higher without armor. At nearly point-blank, Valerie was surprised it hadn’t blown straight through him, but it nearly had. The wound was already pooling ectoplasm, and a chunk of his back the size of a fist was gorged from his back, just left of his spine. He was out cold. It wouldn’t end a ghost, but a wound like that would put him down for a while, but she might as well finish her job for the night.

Valerie stood over Phantom and charged up a second shot. A bright white ring burst around Phantom’s waist, blinding her. It split across him and took with it Phantom’s glow. His colors had inversed on themselves, white hair to black, jumpsuit replaced by a quickly stained shirt that once had been white, and sickly pale skin. He was bleeding red, not green. She had no idea what happened but… it wasn’t like anything she had ever seen. Phantom had transformed into someone, someone who at least from her current view if he hadn’t been covered in his own blood and ectoplasm, would’ve been human.

Valerie nudged him gently with her boot, ecto-rifle in her hands just in case this was just another one of Phantom’s tricks. He didn’t respond, so Valerie turned him over to see his face and was staring at the boy known as Danny Fenton, who looked like he was seconds away from death.

She no longer felt anything like a hero as much as she did a murderer.

#Danny Phantom #Valerie gray #tw:blood #dp side hoes week 2021 #violent #I need clarification. Is this angst or no?#this isn't my normal angst but maybe????#goodfish writes

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