#i need to get back on developing them and their world. its all kinda vague edgy bad rn and i dont think the edge will go away | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

robotsrawesome64 · 6 months

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Heyyyy saw you would like some COD matchups

I'm American, but my mother's side is Slavic. I'm white, 5'6, shoulder length brown hair. I wear glasses and have a coquette aesthetic. I'm not skinny but I'm not plus sized so idk what to call myself lol.

I'm quiet and come off and kinda weird when you don't know me (I have under developed social skills due to C-PTSD). I stay to myself, make jokes that don't even seem connected to the current interactions, have a hard time maintaining eye contact. I love space and art, I have ADHD, Bipolar, and C-PTSD. I'm extremely loyal, can see right through people's bullshit, and am extremely understanding of people's unconventional habits. When you get to know me, I'm more chaotic. Not in an "I'm so random🤪😎" way but "I have an idea, I've thought it 70% of the way through, and we will see how it goes together"

If I were in the COD universe I'd probably be a sniper. I know that's a basic answer but my reasons are due to my hypervigilence, good eye tracking, great at shooting (shoutout to Thanksgiving traditions), and preferance for overall quiet and strict environments.

My top 5 characters are Simon Riley, Nikto, Gaz, Konig (Canon, not fanon), and Krueger.

Feel free to ignore, ik that writing can be really draining!! <3

I matched you with....

KU-KU-KUH KRUUUEGER 📣📢♨️❗❓💢💯🆘

^graphic design is my passion

TYSM for the first ask :,,DD So I got carried away, gonna see if ur into it but if not give me a shout to remove any of the warning stuff/private it etc !! (this is on me lmao) dont wanna scare you off w warnings, its overall fluff but i gotta tag em correctly

W: bbgifying fictional war criminals, violence/murder(described Krueger kills hostiles, implication you have), intimidation(Krueger likes killing/is ego aggressive to hostiles/brief aggro jealousy to others), ally very wounded (brief, blood mention, theyll be ok offscreen dw), unexpected gunshot on the range(all g, it was an ally), stalker-y (lately announced presence, lies that the public german nickname 4u he uses isnt affectionate, pre-dating jealousy), vague bad mental health mention, getting triggered mention, unspecified negativeish Krueger coping mechanism, vigilance(nothing happens but ur partners wanted/tense mission), you guys shooting, long mandated proximity, brief 'is bad man?', worry, long read more, light cliffhanger + HC that you were assigned callsign 'Cere'!

(This is a delulu long 2 off, next inbox ask i get to im gonna chill & try bulletpoints instead :p)(req are closed rite now TYSM for them<3 !)

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"You're assigned with Krueger? Oh, buddy." Your fellow KorTac operator eyes you with sympathy.

It was the equivalent of a teacher seating the 'troubled' kid next to the 'good, quiet' kid.

Flash back to pre-assignment: as soon as you met him you didn't need to look into any files to know he was a two-faced bitch. He was pretty socially inconspicuous if not for your watchful eye. Low-effort charisma, flattery, egotisical swagger. Heedless apathy if someone that wasn't helping him needed help. All the calm confidence in the world and he's always at least hiding some part of his face. So suspicious for a dude whose job is murder.

Krueger was 'friendly', but he wasn't the type to get invested in getting to know 'the team'. Meaning, once a blue moon when you both decide to stay in a social space together, the max of your interaction is him staring from across the room and snorting at you. A joke of yours had fell on someone's deaf ears and a solid 4 seconds later he chuckled at it. Or at you. Unclear. You'd felt his blatant gaze burning you through the hood as soon as you'd started talking. Anyway, now you both looked "weird".

Maybe it was a sniper thing? You couldn't afford to get rusty as you settled on the faction base's range; one eye closed to focus down the scope. That familar 'pchow' sound: hit. Cock, reload, hit, repeat. Hit. Hit-hit, wait what? What was supposed to be your target dents in front of you as you hear the same sound, but from along the range. Jesus christ. Someone else was practicing too. You still yourself and resume through their tampering/co-shooting. Once you've had your fill Krueger conveniently had too, revealing himself as your competitor to purr a praise at you as you passed by. "Very nice."

Anyway, that mission you two were sent on. Heavy snow, low hills and wind-swept shrubland before forest. Hostile base right in the middle in which you've been ordered to clear by any means. There was no way they'd be able to send in a team yet without getting spotted, which is where you guys came in. A sniper either side. Hit your shots; everything will be okay. Miss? There's only so many places it could've come from.

There was something beautiful in that moment in the calm before the storm. Only the crunch of snow as you settled into position, impossibly small as you painted the final dot in the break of snow back to white. Above you, an even wider sprawling landscape of almost clear blue sky with a few sparse strings of cloud. You could see the faint impression of the moon. And…another planet? Something smaller, stationary, glinting. It was possible to catch planets during the daytime, sure, but you might know that this wasn't their usual positions. You think you've just witnessed something very special.

Married to that sight was the chill of wind over your many layers, and Krueger muttering eerily calm communications in your ear via radio. It's not like sniper fire could be silent, but you had a window of opportunity with the suppressor temporarily hiding your position. You'd shoot together.

He slowly counted down like he enjoyed it. Regardless of his distracting yapping you both hit, and he shamelessly hissed praise as he eagerly loaded his next.

Cut to your report back, your half-smile fades at a joke that didn't land with your befuddled superior. Krueger snickers. This was a long-range mission. Somehow, you were standing to attention in front of them, half your sniper hood burnt up (??) and Krueger standing a little more lax next to you splattered in blood. Now- you had clutched the mission. Thanks to your half-plan in response to Krueger getting ahead of himself, in which upon your very stressed communication you both went all-in on.

You remember a moment in the scuffle in which you were pinned by the last hostile after rescuing a screaming damsel Krueger (you didn't know he hit that pitch). You half expected the knife stuck through your attackers neck to pierce you too, before Krueger threaded the needle and double-neutralized your attacker with a snap of the neck. Panting, he leant out a hand for you to take, with a tilt of his head. "Thank you, bruder." You'd worked surprisingly natural together come the highest pressure. He didn't want to die, and you wouldn't let him. But God, he gave you a headache.

To your dismay/morbid interest you were assigned as a duo together again. And again. And again. Through trial and error you got more and more used to how each-other worked on the field, to the point his more bloodlust-y spontaneous ventures seemed quite tempting. With the guidance of your planning, of course. You swear you could hear him smirk on the other side of the radio when you finally seemed just as enthusiastic as him. Others joining you on your assignments would have to scramble to keep up with the pace of your symbiosis.

When he wasn't screaming and shouting for his life from the consequences of his own actions/in combat/violently taunting his enemies with concerning egotistical aggression, it was quite peaceful. Something about being able to focus together, but apart. Beautiful landscapes to the sound of his soothing dry tone.

And so, sue you if you hung out a little more.

"Come; you're needed." He'd half-joke with a pat on your back if he saw you alone, inviting you to sit with him and Nikto. The life-or-death nature of your field didn't really breed cliques, it's just when you could pick, two other 'offputting' neurodivergents were much less exhausting (once you'd mostly figured they weren't planning to kill you). Sometimes Krueger would be trying to say something and both you and Nikto would lose focus and have a lighter episode at the same time, which could be funnily validating despite the circumstances.

Nikto's threateningly gruff, jovial energy was kind of infectious. It might just come up in conversation: your mother's heritage. Ooh, Russian? Was it Russian? Do you know a second language? Krueger participated in the conversation, but…fuck, why were you looking at Nikto like that? No, no, you should just learn German with him instead. You'll have enough time for it together when you travel for your next mission.

It was very few and far between where Krueger had given anyone a nickname. Acquaintance German speakers would give him weird looks when he called you 'asterisks/little star'- "Sternchen," with a lingering tone. He'd non-chalantly play it off when you asked, oh you know, explaining it meant star, like the callsign you got assigned. You might explain, oh no, 'Cere' is a dwarf planet.

"Oh, really?" He seemed very interested as your eyes lit up into conversation about something you seemed to like.

Upon your explanation, he thinks your callsign suited you very well. Cere: an exceptional astronomical body usually hidden to the human eye. The largest object in an asteroid belt in-between Mars and Jupiter; muddy and icy; sporting brines, carbonates and stunningly shiny cryovolcanoes. Incredibly underrated for a beautiful busy planet that screams potential life.

He still called you sternchen, ft. "Mein sternchen," that one time. He was aiming for a cutesy secret term of endearment, but 'asterisks' technically worked too. You were his 'yes, and'. Shit, was he really thinking like that? I mean, he wasn't totally shy to it. It's just most of his previous attractions were short-term and pretty baseless for a reason. Especially with co-workers that actually had an allegiance to who they were working for.

Which made it all the more natural for him to unblinkingly step over and in the pool of blood of the person you were both tasked to protect when he saw you go down. He shouted scolding concern as he rushed to help you out even though you weren't even half as hurt.

Or when you felt shit, to say the least. You were stationed together in Berlin for an unpredictably long wait for a high-priority target. A safehouse in the middle of plain sight with you guys on deck. Blend in as civillians, barely working, just…waiting to be called on. It felt like leave, except you were living with Krueger.

It was definitely a little stressful for him to be back in Germany. He didn't intially realize his unconscious unconventional coping mechanisms set you off too, until he did, and he was at your side if you ever needed something. Helping you wasn't a big deal as far as he was concerned; he didn't have the capacity for afflictive empathy to get particularly tired of it. He'd stare at you with a limited calculative look as he tried to think of what might make his (..work)partner a little better.

Oh, staring? It was a natural habit of his to unabashedly look right in the eyes of people he considered safe/close. Just outside he tried to keep his anonymity, but here he offered to also hide his face or something indoors whilst he checked himself for that habit. Wouldn't be anything new.

Neither was finding the right words to avoid misconception/upset; casually, calmly squashing any worries.

Or when he kept bouncing his leg after being in too long when he sat, and you met eyes whilst fidgeting yourself. Yeah, no-one needed to say it to know it was time to go out.

Just two solid, fit foreigners with inconsistent tan lines. Yeah, no pressure. Played it off as his American other-half visiting for the summer holiday, or something. Not that he at all minded. An older couple observing you when he used his nickname for you (it..just meant star, right?); when he put his hand on your back to guide you somewhere less dodgy; or when you both stood close like you liked him to inconspicuously mutter information. In one of those moments you thought he might be a bit too much of a natural at this.

But you couldn't exactly leave each-other; he spared the details but let you know the faces to look for. And when his description trailed off, he tried drawing instead. Uh, yeah, no offence, but you couldn't tell what that was. You tried instead for him, kind of like a police sketch artist. Regardless of whether you drew often or not, he'd walk a little closer in interest, hand on the back of your seat to look over your shoulder with an impressed noise. "You made them too handsome, sternchen. That-oh yeah, much better." He'd joke.

Art was a pretty good way to fill the time. Alongside Krueger teaching you a little German to apply it later- maybe at a till. If you wanted to buy paints or something, go crazy. Company money, right? Fashion was fun, too. Unsure if you'd ever get the opportunity again to have packed nice-nice clothes for a job. Unlike him; he was underdressed compared to you. Sometimes literally.

Whenever the sunlight beamed in through your little window at the right time of day, he'd lay in it like a cat, sleeveless/ shirtless if you were comfortable. Men. Which was of note since he couldn't exactly flash them outside, but aside from the few scars (a couple of which you remember how he got them.) he had some cool (..?) tattoos. Shame he couldn't get one from you. Not that he'd back out if you busted out the ol' stick and poke. But hey, plenty of empty space left for illustratory practice to bide the time?

Time seemed to go quicker. Krueger singing under his breath around the small flat-thing as he tried to occupy himself; laying next to you on the floor when you felt bad; routine window sunbathing; eagerly crafting an elaborate game with you via worryingly stacked things from around the place just to take aggressive turns with each-other making it break everywhere and fall. It was the human equivalent of two ping pong balls in a box. His stories being your podcast as you did art; him sitting still-ish for you and being amused by the cute bow he'd been awarded to his bicep (not that he could compare to your style); loosely giving his hands back to you behind his head so you could fidget with or hold them, whatever you want.

If you liked him back? He confidently didn't think it was just an act of care anymore from the way your gaze lingered on him- which he reciprocated. He'd speak back calmly and try to hide the twitch of a smile with a satisfied tilt back of his head.

He'd hold you like he would've done anyway if you needed him, with the added flair of lulling his head to rest against next to yours as he calmly talked your ear off before bed. Maybe as he lightly traced your cheek where his hand laid, if he felt braver.

Your shared enemies always seemed to go down harder, more violently. Other operators caught snarky comments.

You weren't quite sure how it'd all come to an official head, or not. But as far as you were concerned, with your head on his shoulder, it wasn't too bad to be assigned with Sebastian Krueger.

#cod matchup #cod #call of duty #cod x reader #sebastian krueger #cod krueger #krueger x reader #ive done priv keegs/anon 2k now krueger/anon 2k #holy crapoli #jamies next then gemini lady >:D #im nervouuuseeeee #keep readings broken omfg its fucking w my POST #64sshit

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robots-are-kinda-hot · 19 days

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((long post incoming)) hi i havent posted in seven years. have slugcats

@ant1quarian is to blame for this. go look at their rain world utmv au before I implode

Side note I refer to Saint as he but none of my chars care abt gender bc i blasted them with the genderfluid beam

He would be . going thru it LMAO

I’m sure “fallen saint” did not mean a saint who probably deserved to be fallen but fuck it we ball. The problem with my Saint is he will ascend everything. Whether they want it or not. This creates a shit ton of echoes. So him losing his powers (likely due to a certain oc of mine) would actually be a good thing… eventually

At first he’d be pissed as all hell. Stays pissed as all hell when he meets Dust, Killer, and Cross (or whoever else). Getting to know them goes… ehhh. They all travel together, but Saint is trying to stay distant so he can move up karma. He’s also still very angry about losing his powers, but bottling it up bc saints shouldn't have emotions (according to him).

This comes to a head when someone gives the slightest suggestion of liking being alive. He shuts them down so fast it’s almost comical, but any good vibes are killed when Saint mentions how he ascended everything he came across. Cue argument about maybe Not Doing That. Cue Saint’s outburst (“WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT’S WRONG?!”)

Saint storms away from the group and sleeps in a different shelter alone. He… ends up thinking a little too much and has a bit of a breakdown. Begrudgingly goes back to the group once the rain stops, looking for forgiveness, and he FINALLY gets a crumb of character development. THEN the stage is set for eventual shipping shenanigans huehehehe (Saint still needs some more character development before he has anything official though, the bastard)

Design notes (because my saint design is a bit strange if you don’t know the context) + bonus old Artificer art bc she didn’t make it in here </3 dw i still love u arti

So… I’m gonna avoid talking about the main part of his design for funsies but its blaringly obvious. feel free to guess I’m like 80% sure everyone will get it

-My Saint actually has six tentacles/“wings”- three on either side so he’s symmetrical. After he falls, he loses a wing to represent said fall.

-The Saint in the first drawing is different on purpose! That’s him at the start with no echoes :] ironically the more echoes he meets the more echoed he gets

-At least one of his ears are always askew. This has to do with his main design aspect.

-He does have teeth. Kinda. He probably wouldn’t need to eat when fallen though, he’s echoed enough to not need it

-The three thingies on his forehead act like heat sensors. This lets Saint see at lower karma levels without getting snow blindness.

-He has pupils, but they’re the karma 10 symbol… which he no longer has, so he no longer has pupils too

Arti… oh, arti. My beloved. What the fuck did I do to you /pos

I missed you and all your triangular edgy goodness. You’ll get a few modifications but your cool ass face shadow and demon horn ears are staying

A little note about Artificer’s design, too: She does have her scar here! It’s just not visible under her shadow. My Artificer got so swept up in her rampage that she straight up forgot about her pups. Not coincidentally, her scar is vaguely shaped like a slugpup’s head. She’s blocking out the memories of her past in favor of needless bloodshed.

Not pictured is her fire fur that I still adore. Basically sometimes her fur just… isn’t fur, it’s fire, and while it is a more symbolic thing I love the idea of her fur turning to flames when she jumps

#this got out of hand #long post #my rain world au/story is vehemently against ascension because I’m allergic to killing my blorbos #Saint has more of a backstory than I said but I’ll keep that secret for now #I was gonna draw a more anthro Saint but… meh #I’m still getting reused to drawing slugcats and I wanted to draw slugcats #This is also why I didn’t draw arti sadly #Not necessarily shipping my saint with a specific boy. just setting up a background and kicking my saint off his high horse #anyway time to disappear for another 5000 years #rain world #rain world downpour #rain world utmv #rain world saint #this post make no sense because theres no context. do you expect me to give it to you? no. suffer #blank’s art #blank’s rw stuff

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midyearflowers · 4 months

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i have some Thoughts about totk that i have to get out cause i watched zeltik's review and i agree so hard

obviously major spoilers ahead

so i wanna start by saying i absolutely LOVE totk and its easily my fave zelda game ever, with botw being in second. but i will say both games as incredible as they are definitely suffer from the nintendo treatment in that there are awesome moments that blow everything out of the water, and then there are some bad moments that can really bring them down. case in point for totk specifically, zelda's sacrifice and draconification brings me to tears every time and her final words give me goosebumps. but then the cutscenes after each dungeon are... literally copy and paste. like you play them together and its beat for beat the same ("demon king?? secret stone???" nintendo why....)

like i love the story and think they couldve really had something if they had put more effort in and not only fleshed it out more but delivered it better. the whole "find the memories that can be out of order" thing worked for botw cause you already knew the ending so they were mostly additions rather than the full story. but with totk you dont know the ending, you dont know what its all leading up to. there is a mystery to it all, and being able to basically walk up to the end without any other context just ruins that. its just a weird decision honestly

and this all makes it clear that 90% of the development time went to the gameplay. which isnt entirely a bad thing, the gameplay is fucking AWESOME. the world and the way you interact with it is seamless, they NAILED the atmosphere and sound design for every single thing. like the tense beginning as you get closer to ganondorf, the ancient and solemn sky islands and ruins, the creepy and unknown depths. diving down my first chasm, which wasnt the story one so there were NO lights waiting for me at the bottom, i got CHILLS. Falling further and further, the area getting darker and more gloom infested, to land in endless darkness in all directions and having "the depths" title appear onscreen. *chefs kiss*

tho that brings me to another point in that, like botw, totk suffers from "world too big" and there ends up being many pockets where theres just. nothing. maybe a korok, but those get boring after the first few. but theres so much that is just empty and bare that you wonder if they wouldnt have benefited from a smaller map. like i love open world games, and totk at least added caves to the surface world which helped, but theres really only so many random puzzles you can do before youve seen everything. the depths being an inverted hyrule is SO cool, but they didnt really do anything with it. aside from the camera quest and very brief yiga stuff, there really isnt any real reason to comb the depths, unless you need some zonaite or something. the dlc stuff being treasures you could find was neat, but also nearly every armor being the same as botw except for a couple extras was kinda a let down. the new dragon armors are so cool and unique, i wish they did more

the zonai. merely hinted at in botw through ruins and vague item descriptions. they were so mysterious and literally everyone was theorizing on them. and then we get a game that is going to explore it all! the mystery is going to be solved! .....except it wasnt. id almost argue we know LESS about the zonai than we did before. they supposedly descended from the heavens with magical artifacts and founded the kingdom of hyrule, and then when zelda travels back to this time, theres only 2 zonai left and they barely know anything about their own species??? like what?? its like the timeline between the first mural and the second is like. centuries. why are there only 2, where did the rest go? if they were there before the kingdom of hyrule, what did they do? WHY did they descend from the heavens? it feels like nintendo needed to explain where the new tech was from since it wasnt sheikah, so they just kinda made stuff up as they went to justify it. its as if the story was just built around the gameplay. which id honestly believe cause initially it was just supposed to be dlc for botw but they came up with too many ideas so just made a new game in the same world

which brings me to my next point. why was it marketed as the sequel to botw, when it basically did its hardest to pretend botw didnt even happen. the botw references were basically just that. references. not continuing the story or adding to it. its just "yea that happened and we're rebuilding now". the fact the developers literally just said "eh the sheikah tech just disappeared one day and no one knows why" like come ON. not to mention all of the important characters you directly affected in botw seemingly forgetting link exists within the 2-3 years between the games. the man who you paid to build your house doesnt even recognize you! HESTU doesnt recognize you, and youre one of like 3 people who can see him!! the people of HATENO where link literally LIVES dont recognize him!!!!!!!! WHY

i have more but this is already long. i have something else on ganondorf but ill make a separate post. anyway i do love this game with all my heart but nintendo has me scratching my head more often than not

#gwyn tinvaak #totk #totk spoilers

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theultim · 1 year

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I kinda started a project where I re-write like. 99.99% of Sonic Forces and I realized for this to work right I'm gonna need a lot of input from a lot of other people for this.

It's gonna be a huge project, that I kinda already acknowledged/realized when I started formatting it out on Obsidian. It's just gonna be in written form since I'm not confident in my art whatsoever. My current estimate for this is maybe a year or two until I'm maybe fully done? I'm not concerned about what platform(s) it'll be available on since I purposefully don't tag my posts 80% of the time.

I'm very storyline centered, so I want to know what people liked/disliked about it, the characters, and the pacing. What do you think could've been done better? What do you think is pretty important? This will help me shape out my drafts for the characters and story I want to tell better. I personally have only played SA2 (Not to completion) and I might be able to get Sonic Frontiers this weekend! So yes, that does mean I've never played Sonic Frontiers. My friend has though; And I've watched a no commentary compilation of the game.

I personally noticed a big trend when it comes to Sonic games, where they basically reset the progress the characters have made in previous games to the point where they're no longer able to be self-reliant. That's another reason why I want other people to have input in this project of mine! (It also keeps me open to new ideas!)

Honestly, I couldn't tell what Sonic Forces' goal was, storyline-wise. It was a headache for me to watch because of all of the time jumping back and forth. I can find/create ways to justify characters like Shadow and Silver being in this game, I'm just upset there wasn't one given to the viewers in the actual game.

I don't want to take too much from the IDW comics/other media. The main exception to this that I've made is using NebrocRock's renders of The Jackal Squad to help give Infinite just a bit more story to work with. (And me some characters to work with. For Infinite.)

Some ideas on locations! We only really see Green Hill and the Death Egg, with only a mention of Seaside Hill. (And that. City or whatever. I don't know its name) If Eggman took over the whole world, what would that consist of?

And on character development/inclusion.

There is literally no character development in this except for the Avatar. Speaking of, I still want to include them and the other two game renders they have! (Which are bird and cat. I've named then Rotary and Javelin! Might change though.) Avatar will stay as the "MC" with the other two being sides. I'm not gonna do some y/n stuff though, because they actually have stuff going on.

We only really see the Chaotix Squad, Team Dark.... AND SILVER? FOR SOME REASON??

Anyways, if there's characters you'd want included in something like this, say who and why! (And characters you'd make changes to)

I'll be tagging posts in relation to this project with Sonic Frontiers Remixed! (Since that's what I've been calling it in my docs.) I'm not sure what else to add to this post, so I'll be ending it here. If you need more examples of what kind of information I'm trying to gather, feel free to ask! And if you already have some ideas you'd like to share, please do!

I honestly really do think Sonic Frontiers is worthy of this project. Its plot is vague enough for me to fuck around with it, while also having key points in the story.

(Reblog would be appreciated on this one [1] post, I'm gonna need all the input/help that I can with this)

#Sonic Frontiers Remixed #sonic frontiers #I dont really ask for help like this so I hope people see/interact with this post #sth #scheduled #its scheduled because im scared and I dont want to be awake when I post this

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apompkwrites · 3 years

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I just read your story, the one with Xiao and Albedo, its really good! I love it! Is it ok if you do the same thing but with Kaeya, Zhongli, Childe and Diluc version. I can see how excited these guys are since Kaeya first appeared is clapping his hand, the way Childe call Lumine 'Hey Girlie', Zhongli with how handsome he is especially his eyes and with Diluc how mysterious he is when he appeared out of nowhere

Feel free to do it if you're not busy or you can ignore this :3

reader impact || first meeting cont.

series masterlist characters: kaeya, diluc, childe genre: fluff summary: a game has been released entitled genshin impact, consisting of otherworldly abilities relying on the basic elements of nature. the game follows the story of an interdimensional traveling twin in search of their other half. along this journey, they meet different characters that live in this world. including you. notes: i’m glad you liked it! i’m having a lot of fun writing these so expect some more coming out :D i plan on doing more first meeting hcs and then branching off to other scenarios, so if there’s something specific, please request it! also, i’ve already done one for zhongli!

kaeya's playthrough -

he's more of a variety streamer, honestly.

most of his viewers watch him because of his carefree nature (as well as his looks).

obviously, he'd do a bunch of drinking streams whenever he could where he would just talk to his viewers about whatever came to mind.

during those streams, his viewers often try to ask him questions, which are only answered in vague statements.

his gaming streams are pretty rare compared to his chatting streams, but they're there nonetheless.

his viewers jump when they hear he's planning on playing genshin impact.

just neverending messages about a character they are convinced he will love.

he's so tempted to ask but decides not to, wanting to learn who this mystery character is on his own.

honestly, he was expecting you to appear way later in the story.

he's very interested in the looming threat of stormterror.

his character lands on the ground and he leans back to watch the cutscene play.

then he hears footsteps and sees his character look to someone offscreen.

this man practically LUNGES INTO HIS MONITOR WHEN THE CAMERA PANS UP TO YOU.

you walk in clapping at a calculated pace, which is when he leans forward and stares at your character model.

"i can't believe you have the power to stand up against that dragon... that said, are you a new ally... or a new storm?"

"oh, hun, i can be whatever you want me to be."

HE'S ALREADY FLIRTING WITH YOU PLEASE HIS CHAT IS IN HYSTERICS-

he knows his chat is freaking out, so he turns to the camera and sends his signature smirk.

"now i know why you guys wanted me to play this so bad."

"(name), kaeya, you've come at the right time. we must..."

"now now, don't forget to introduce us."

"oh... right. this is (name), our cavalry captain. these two are travelers from afar."

"ooh, they're a person in charge, too?"

HE KNOWS WHAT HE'S DOING TO HIS CHAT BUT THEY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU DO TO HIM.

he genuinely likes you. like genuinely. he's fallen deep and he doesn't plan on leaving anytime soon.

if your costume has that long v-neck like his does...

hOO BOY HE'S THANKING EVERY DEVELOPER OF THIS GAME.

anyway, he's heard that there are characters you can only obtain throguh wishes, so he's kind of nervous to find out if that's the case with you.

he just really wants you in his party so y'all can be mysterious together.

"let me show you how the knights of favonius conquer our adversaries!"

"oh, yes. please do."

his viewers can and will make compilations of him flirting with you.

ngl, he's looking forward to those.

sometimes, your voice gets all quiet and he melts when he hears that.

he will pay to have voicelines of you flirting with him--

when he enters your trial domain, he will purposely avoid completing it just in case he doesn't get to keep you.

he sees some of his viewers talking about how you're a bad character and that the other characters are so much better.

too bad, they're banned now.

no (name) slander in his chat, thank you very much.

he loves your quips whenever he uses your elemental skill.

he loves you even more if those quips are puns based on your element.

finally, he's nearing the end of your domain. when that happens, he will slowly turn towards the camera and stare.

"if they aren't a permanent member on my team, this'll be the last stream of genshin."

"let's continue our adventure, shall we?"

obtained (name): a thinker in the knights of favonius with a somewhat exotic appearance.

"okay, so we'll continue streaming genshin soon."

he'll put you in the first slot of his party, moving his traveler character to the second.

his streams will always include him flirting with you, even if you don't reply.

diluc's playthrough -

his streams are mainly bartending based, so he likes mixing drinks on stream for his viewers.

he doesn't drink them, though. he gives them out to his friends and family once the stream is over.

it's pretty rare for him to play games but he'll do an occasional gaming stream if his friends and family don't want any drinks.

his chat always makes fun of him because he's a bartender that doesn't like the taste of alcohol.

he's very blunt, so he's not afraid to drop a game immediately if he isn't interested.

in fact, that's almost what he did with genshin.

it's not like the game is bad or anything, diluc just didn't care for it because of all the hype his chat shared.

he keeps playing, though, because someone promised he would really enjoy a character that comes up in the prologue.

granted, it's over an hour or so but it doesn't matter--

when he gets to the domain teaching him how to use cryo, he hates every minute of it.

he hates the character he's given and just wants to leave.

the demo character is one he doesn't really care for, especially because he's the type of person he dislikes coming to the bars he works at.

his chat is laughing at him when they reach the end because the cutscene continues with the character he hates.

he feels a bit better when he learns the abyss mage is in the domain because he gets to see and hear something that isn't the cryo character.

then he meets you.

you run into the domain out of nowhere, quickly defeating the abyss mage and tossing it towards the corner.

"knights of favonius... always so inefficient."

his chat goes insane when your character appears, especially because of how dumbfounded diluc looks.

he's known for not really emoting and it's the same case for this scene. however, his chat knows he is in love with your character.

he takes a few minutes when he's kicked out of the domain but he clears his throat and looks over at the camera.

"i'll be streaming this game again soon when the others don't want any drinks."

YOU SINGLEHANDEDLY SAVED THIS GAME FROM BEING TOSSED AWAY WITHIN A MINUTE OF APPEARING

THE POWER YOU HOLD OVER THIS MAN AND HE DOESN'T EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME--

cut to after he's stolen the lyre and is sent to the tavern.

he's a bit excited because he gets to visit mondstadt's tavern but then--

"master (name), this is this week's accounts."

"they're back."

HE'S SO NONCHALANT BUT WE ALL KNOW HE'S FREAKING OUT

he gets second-hand embarrassment when venti talks to you asking for the... least conspicuous table.

he's kinda sad when your character is suspicious of him, but he understands.

when the knights leave the tavern, he really wants venti to just shut up.

please you're embarrassing the man.

when he hears how you feel about him joining the knights, he is so willing to quit--

man just wants you to be proud of him and trust him :((

he's relieved to hear that you will help him and you don't hate him.

please give him validation--

childe's playthrough -

man is still rich he can do whatever he wants.

his gaming streams would definitely be pvp based games. honestly, just any game where he can fight someone, he'll play.

his chat also has a few little games they like to play together like guessing what the hell this man does to have so much money--

also his siblings crash in on his streams sometimes :D

those are pretty much the only times you'll see him be soft and not so competitive.

teucer likes crashing his streams to show off his plushies :))

anyway, genshin time!

he definitely tried to fight paimon the first time he loaded the game.

please expect lots of genshin stream from this guy because he needs to make his team deal the highest damage he can get.

also his wallet doesn't even have a dent in it despite all of the money he's spent on characters and weapons.

please sir what do you do for all that money

ok so onto your first meeting

he was really excited when the exuvia fell during the rite of descension because he thought he would get to fight whoever killed the great archon of liyue.

he really wanted to fight the millelith but then his chat convinced him to dodge them first.

one of his viewers explains that there's a character they know he'll like and he was very... intriguied to say the least.

he moves forward in his chair once his character is heard by the millelith, prepared to fight the various soldiers surrounding him.

"hang on, sweetheart. i've got this."

this man will squeal when you flip over the stairs in front of his character.

he doesn't know who you are and what you do but he knows for a fact that you are his new favorite character.

you take down all of the guards in two seconds, leaving him (and his in-game character) dumbfounded.

"come with me."

"o-okay..."

he's smitten.

he absolutely loves the way your character fights even if he met you about... a minute ago.

his siblings definitely come into his room to check on him because he's so quiet.

once he realizes you're a part of the harbingers, he's even more obsessed.

he hates the options the game gives him when he needs to respond because 2/3 of them are insulting you.

anyway he really likes listening to your voice.

he will give anything to hear you call him sweetheart again.

his chat informs him that the traveler he chose changed the nickname you give him, which makes him very happy.

when you send him off to talk to the other adepti, he's kind of disappointed he doesn't get to hang out with you.

but when he gets back to you...

"welcome back, sweetheart. how was your trip to jueyun karst?"

HE'S SOFT ALL OVER AGAIN PLEASE KEEP CALLING HIM SWEETHEART!!!

when he learns you're rich just like him... he gets all pouty. his chat, of course, wants to know why.

"... i want to be able to spoil her."

PLEASE HE'S SO IN LOVE WITH YOU <3

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makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA 323: “I Don’t Know How to Explain to You That You Should Care About Other People”

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was all, “Izuku, I’m sorry.” Bakugou Stans were all, “[sobs for a week straight and tearfully awards him the Nobel Prize for character development].” Deku was all, “[faints in Kacchan’s arms].” Iida was all, “[trying to decide if Ochako genuinely tried to kill him a few minutes ago].” Horikoshi was all, “NO TIME FOR HUGS WE MUST GET BACK TO UA.” The civilians holed up at U.A. were all, “WE TOOK A VOTE AND DECIDED THAT WE’RE ALL GOING TO BE JERKS ABOUT THIS AND MAKE A BIG FUSS ABOUT YOU LETTING DEKU BACK INTO THE SCHOOL.” Deku was all “[stands there looking like he expected nothing less and breaking my heart more and more with each passing moment].” Ochako was all, “that does it, looks like I’m gonna have to do something about this... next chapter, that is.”

Today on BnHA: Flashback!Rat Principal is all “I just want you all to know that I spent nine million dollars turning U.A. into a giant Battleship-style grid that can burrow underground and zoom around in a giant subway maze because Horikoshi lacks a grounded understanding of both civil engineering and economics.” Back in the present day, Jeanist is all, “EVERYONE TAKE HEED, MY COMRADES AND I HAVE DEEMED IT EXPEDIENT TO CONVEY THIS AUSPICIOUS YOUTH BACK TO THIS STRONGHOLD. WE ANTICIPATE THAT WE MAY DEPEND UPON YOUR GOODWILL AND ACQUIESCENCE TO THESE TERMS.” The civilians were all, “NO.” Ochako was all, “EMPATHY, MOTHERFUCKERS, DO YOU SPEAK IT?!” The civilians were all, “oh shit.” Anyway so Ochako is a giant badass, but I’m a little worried that she’s going to get struck by lightning. Please come down from there.

so before we start this chapter, I would just like to apologize for having not posted the ch 321 recap yet, and would like to reassure everyone, and especially Iida who is staring at me with Sad Wobbly Guilt Trip Eyes, that I will get to that as soon as I can

OMG FLASHBACK??

yes please Horikoshi please show us more of class 1-A and their Deku intervention strategy jam sessions

oh dear

Iida you are too pure and good for this cruel world. [sprays the U.A. civilians with a water bottle] NO. BAD CIVILIANS! NO OSTRACIZING SCARED AND EXHAUSTED CHILDREN IN THE HOUSE

EXCUSE ME RAT PRINCIPAL WHAT’S WITH THESE MIXED MESSAGES

???

RAT PRINCIPAL: he’s free to return to us at any time!!

ALSO RAT PRINCIPAL: but it’s too risky for him to return to us

?? ??????? ?????????????????????

so now he’s going on about how strong the U.A. Barrier is, and how it’s comparable to the defensive capabilities of Tartarus. this would have sounded a lot more impressive before chapter 297 lol

OH!!!! HELLO, WHAT’S THIS!!!

A TIMELY CALLBACK TO A CERTAIN MYSTERIOUS EVENT WHICH HASN’T BEEN REFERENCED SINCE USJ? [U.A. TRAITOR MUSIC INTENSIFIES]

so now Rat Principal says he upgraded U.A.’s security systems with his own “modifications”, whatever the fuck that means. I mean look, I’ve been saying for a long time now that U.A. is the best place for everyone to hole up, don’t get me wrong. but that was mostly on account of there not being any other practical alternatives. but you’re making it sound like you figured out a way to actually make it Decay-proof or some wild shit like that

-- hold up, DID YOU ADD A FORCE FIELD. DID YOU TRICK THIS SCHOOL OUT WAKANDA-STYLE YOU CRAZY MARSUPIAL. HOLY SHIT. because that would actually be perfect

LMAO

WHAT KIND OF GALAXY BRAIN BULLSHIT. “NAH THERE’S NO NEED FOR A FORCE FIELD, LET’S JUST PUT WHEELS ON IT”

oh okay so the whole campus is basically capable of burrowing itself underground. that’s insane lol I wonder how they pulled that off. probably got poor Cementoss working overtime

blah blah blah so basically the entire campus is split into a grid and each section of the grid is capable of its own independent movement. lol this is just the Merone Base from KHR. you thought no one would notice this casual plagiarism ten years after the fact, but YOU UNDERESTIMATED YOUR AUDIENCE, HORIKOSHI

“joke’s on you imma just lampshade it” WELL ALL RIGHT THEN

“look at me I’m so fucking self-aware” fucking swear to god. I can’t believe this man is my favorite mangaka of all time smdh

“excuse me, I wasn’t finished describing all the rest of this bullshit yet,” Rat Principal breaks in impatiently. “we also added a steel wall all around the underground of the campus that’s 3000 steel plates thick. that’s fifteen fucking meters of solid fucking steel just fyi. and if anyone fucks around with any part of it the defense system will activate immediately! and also all of the plates are independently motorized, whatever the fuck that means!! in conclusion you’re gonna need a fucking tower crane to suspend all of your disbelief by the time I’m through with this paragraph”

“also Shiketsu is almost as reinforced as U.A. but not quite because we still had to make sure we were better.” but of course. and apparently the two schools are connected via a secret tunnel as Hagakure mentioned earlier

LSDKFJLSDKJFLK

“WAIT WHAT” LMAO YOU HEARD HIM, NOW INASA CAN VISIT YOU BOTH IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND TELL YOU ALL ABOUT THE WEIRD DREAM HE HAD. GOD BLESS YOU HORIKOSHI

(ETA: moment of appreciation for Shouto and Katsuki having the same thought at the same time and making Knowing Eye Contact and saying the exact same thing out loud in perfect unison like the best friends they are. what a blessed day.)

so Tokoyami is all “but wait if you engineered all this shit all the way back during the Band arc how did you even know that Tomura’s quirk awakening would become a thing, Horikoshi -- uh, I mean, Principal Nezu”

and Rat Principal is all “lol idk”

“basically I just woke up one morning and was all ‘say, you know what this school really needs? a fifteen-meter-thick underground steel wall, and the ability to break up into little pieces that individually zoom around wherever the fuck they want.’ jesus christ. lol if money and common sense were apparently no obstacle why didn’t you just teleport U.A. to the fucking moon or something. maybe I should shut up before I given him any ideas

dsfaelkjldkjgl

you heard it here first, folks, all of this cost a grand total of nine million U.S. dollars. well technically it cost “more than” nine million dollars. never has that distinction been more important lmao. are we sure this barrier was really made of steel and not cardboard? who the hell sold it to them, Ea-Nasir??

this is my favorite manga series of all time. yes I am ashamed

“in conclusion please do your best to reach Deku-kun” SO WHAT WAS ALL THAT NONSENSE ABOUT IT BEING TOO RISKY THEN. anyway thank you for this super informative and edifying flashback, Horikoshi. I will cherish it always. I don’t even want to read another translation of this absurdity lmao, there’s something special about it just the way it is. pretty sure Horikoshi just had a cracked out fever dream one night and transferred it to the pages of the manga verbatim

anyway so back to the unruly mob

not their finest moment. please excuse me while I cover poor Deku’s ears and give him a good shoosh pap

oh wow the parents are out here too

is Mitsuki trying to hold Inko back?? that’s the last thing this fandom needs right now is more Mitsuki discourse fffwlkjs. and even Jiroudad, scientifically proven to be the best dad in all of BnHA, is just standing there silently looking vaguely unhappy. way to rise to the moment you guys

MONOMA

so this settles it for me that Aizawa is not at UA. I know a lot of people have been wondering about his whereabouts, and if I had to wager a guess it would be that something happened with Shirakumo/Kurogiri. I can’t think of anything else -- even the loss of an eye and a limb -- that would keep him from his kids at a time like this

anyway but this is excellent Monoma content right here though. I love that he apparently adopted Eri after a single interaction with her. also WHERE IS SHINSOU DAMMIT. THE PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW

and Kouta’s there too looking like he wants to run over to Deku but Ragdoll won’t let him :/

it’s gotta be pretty upsetting for him to see his hero like this and not having anyone stand up for him. [taps megaphone] IS THIS THING ON. OKAY YEAH IT SEEMS TO BE WORKING. AHEM. PAGING URARAKA OCHAKO. GONNA NEED YOU TO GET OVER HERE ALREADY AND MAKE THAT BIG DRAMATIC SPEECH WHICH YOU ARE CLEARLY DYING TO MAKE. IF YOU DON’T DO IT SOON I’M GONNA HAVE TO STEP IN, AND YOU REALLY DON’T WANT ME TO DO THAT SINCE MY SPEECH WILL NOT BE VERY GOOD OR INSPIRING, AND WILL PROBABLY JUST CONSIST OF “HELLO, YOU ARE ALL STUPID, PLEASE SHUT UP AND GO AWAY”

so now Mic is telling them to calm down. at least someone’s speaking up here, geez

OH MY GOD

MY MAN JEANIST OUT HERE DOING WHAT HE DOES BEST: MAKING EVERYONE FEEL GUILTY AND JUDGED

OH MY GOD HE IS GIVING SUCH A LONG AND BORING SPEECH LMAO IS YOUR STRATEGY TO PUT THEM ALL TO SLEEP OR WHAT

truly in awe of this man’s ability to take messages which could easily be conveyed in ELI5-speak, and stubbornly convert them into incomprehensible language the likes of which you need a graduate degree in order to understand

“hey guys, so originally our plan was to use Deku as bait for the villains, but that didn’t really work and also we realized it was kinda dumb and was probably gonna get him killed, so we brought him back here instead.” was that really so hard, Jeanist. also are we all really just gonna sit back here and watch Jeanist take full credit for Bakugou’s plan just like that lmao

(ETA:

WHERE DID ENDEAVOR GO AND WHO IS THIS DIABOLICAL MASTER OF DISGUISE. lol I genuinely didn’t notice this because I was too busy digging through thesauruses trying to rewrite Jeanist’s speech; many thanks to @class1akids for pointing it out and making my day immeasurably better. take it easy there Dick Tracy.)

“anyway so please stop being dicks and let him fucking rest so he can save all your ungrateful asses” what an impassioned and inspiring plea. time to see if the masses will listen to reason

narrator: they did not listen to reason

oh my god finally Ochako is doing something. YEAH OCHAKO WOOOO SHOW THEM HOW IT’S DONE

hmm

this entire chapter is truly and utterly nonsensical to me lol

(ETA: on my second readthrough I’m fucking dying at how she stole the megaphone right out of Mic’s hand lmao. and how Kacchan is all “fuck yeah nothing I appreciate more than some quality fucking larceny.”)

oh I see she was jumping on top of the main building so as to scream down at them all more impressively

“ANYWAY DEKU IS PRETTY COOL ACTUALLY, YOU GUYS ARE JUST MEAN” couldn’t have said it better myself Ochako

lol uh

gotta say I did not have “Ochako reveals the secret of OFA to the entire U.A. Citizen Clown Parade” on my bingo card for this week. it’s a bold strategy cotton let’s see if it pays off

SDLFKJSL

“NO, SERIOUSLY, HAVE YOU LOOKED AT HIM YOU GUYS. YOU THINK HE LIKES RUNNING AROUND DRESSED LIKE A RUSTED OIL DRUM?? HE DID THAT FOR YOU YOU UNGRATEFUL SLOBS”

so she is basically explaining the entire Deku Angst arc to them and explaining what a good and selfless protagonist Deku is, YES, PREACH

OMG IT’S THE GIGANTIC FOX LADY

not to insinuate anything, but what exactly were you doing standing out here with the hysterical mob, Gigantic Fox Lady? you’re better than that

-- KACCHAN SIGHTING!!

sdlkfjl. thanks for weighing in with that helpful and important observation. where have you been for the last five minutes. were you asleep. was it Jeanist’s speech

never mind, now he’s yelling at the civilians so I instantly forgive him

THE FUTURE NUMBER ONE HERO, EVERYONE. THANK YOU, THANK YOU. HE’LL BE HERE ALL WEEK

“anyway so I’m just going to end the chapter here” lmao seventeen pages truly do go by so fast. at least he didn’t try to force in a cliffhanger at the end this time. dare I say, growth

so I guess the civilians are either gonna have a Kamino and/or Fukuoka-esque moment where they remember how to be decent people and apologize to this poor young man, or else they’ll remain unpersuaded, and so Kacchan will have to knock a few of their heads around until they become more inclined to be reasonable. either option is fine by me lol

#bnha 323 #uraraka ochako #rat principal #class 1-a #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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alwaysmarveling · 3 years

Text

Socks

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Warnings: toxic relationships, small mentions of death, gaslighting, fighting, and miscarriage

Word Count: 4k (literally exactly 4k, I’m kinda proud)

A/N: Based on the song “1 Step Forward, 3 Steps Back” by Olivia Rodrigo as suggested by @vancityfire13, I hope this meets all your hopes and expectations <3 also technically this is my first prompt from someone who’s not me??!

You met Wanda at the library. Your legs crossed, eyebrows scrunched, and bottom lip caught between your teeth, you’d settled in the familiar corner of the library's world languages section. That area was always quiet, which you’d found out after many trips to the library as a kid. When the occasional patron did wander through, perusing the shelves, sometimes they brought family or friends, weaving together sounds and syllables that had to be from another language. It was the only sound you’d tolerate while you were immersed in your reading. Well, to be fully honest, you loved it, wondering what the hushed voices were saying, what stories they were telling. So Wanda’s English was a jarring wake-up call.

“I like your socks.” Her eyes flashed to your ankles, leaving you wondering if she was more drawn to the sky blue color or the characters covering it.

You’d noticed the brunette walking the aisles about ten minutes ago. Unlike most, she ran her fingers along the worn spines, seeming only half-interested in what the titles read.

“Thanks.” Your voice was cold, unwelcoming. She gave you a terse nod before heading off, her footsteps silent against the worn carpet. You thought she was gone.

A week later, you were back at your spot. You’d finally finished the work you’d been putting off for weeks, just about to reward yourself with a reread of Little Women, a book you’d read an uncountable number of times since you were a child. She was an unwelcome interruption.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but-”

“I was looking for a book for my brother. His name is Pietro. Was Pietro. There was a Sokovian fairytale he always loved. Begged my mother to read it to us every night. He could recite it by memory by the time he was five, knew every word. I thought I did too.” Your eyes traced down the curve of her spine. Your mother would have scolded you for standing so poorly.

“I’m sorry for your loss” was all you said, your lips forming a tight line when you finished.

“I couldn’t- I can’t remember the title.”

“I can try to help you find it?” You weren’t sure why you offered, maybe the lost look in her eyes, the growing strength of her accent as she talked, or the way her fingers traced her empty palms. No one should leave a library empty-handed.

“Do you speak Sokovian?” The corners of her eyes creased as you shook your head.

“I suppose you won’t be much help then, will you?” Her words held no bite, only the sadness of a stranger who was trying to hold herself together, her emotions threatening to unravel her at the weakened seams. You matched her facial expression out of sympathy, but she was gone before you had a chance to apologize.

“Do you like Disney?” she had asked you. Her eyes were back on your ankles. You were wearing the same socks as when the two of you first met. You were milliseconds away from answering, your tongue already against the roof of your mouth, ready to shut down the conversation immediately afterward. But then you noticed the way her hands fidgeted in her lap, her fingers always moving, almost like they were dancing. You sighed. You should be nicer; she’d really done nothing wrong.

“It’s alright.” Your shoulders raised and dropped, your answer purposefully vague. “Did you manage to find the book?” The darkening of her eyes was enough to tell you that, no, she hadn’t found it. “What’s the main character’s name?” Her gaze followed you as you pulled out your laptop.

“Boleslav,” she answered finally. Her gaze was timid, unsure. Why were you helping her? You’d been so closed off before.

“Do you know any major points of the story? The names of the other characters?” Before she could answer, you eyed the pillow that sat next to you. She took a seat.

The two of you poured over Google, eventually finding the story and its location in the library. But by that point, you were too wrapped up in your findings on the Internet to get up. Too wrapped up in each other.

---

Wanda insisted she make it up to you, for finding the book for her.

“For helping me find my brother,” she insisted, pulling you out of the library. If she was anyone else, you would have responded by saying that she could make it up to you by leaving you alone with your books, but she wasn’t anyone else. So you let her tug you out of the building, Mirabelle, the librarian, giving you a wink upon seeing you leaving the building with someone else, soft smiles gracing your faces.

You thought she would’ve brought you to coffee, but it seemed you hadn’t yet developed the ability to understand her. She brought you to the city, a small store on the corner. Socks lined the walls, the different colors and patterns flooding your vision.

“Your Disney ones looked old.” You half-nodded as you scanned the store, your hand going limp in hers. You remembered learning about rods and cones in class ages ago, not quite remembering what each one did but remembering that one of them was involved in seeing colors. Those—whatever they were called—must’ve been on overdrive.

You picked one pair for her, and she, one for you. You wore those socks constantly, slipping them over your feet the second they were out of the wash. You never told Wanda about it, but you didn’t have to; her eyes fell to your ankles every time she saw you, a small smile on her face. You didn’t know if you did it for her reaction or simply because you loved them. Maybe it was both.

---

Wanda drew you into her world. Some might have used the word “yanked” given how quickly your relationship moved. But that made it sound involuntary, as if she’d forced you to move in with her when she’d asked you exactly eight months after your first date. And if you’d known she had powers when you first met her, you might’ve agreed. Maybe she’d entranced you and now you were stuck with her, even if you didn’t really want to be.

But the truth was that you did, you wanted to be with her every second you could. And though magic never left her hands when she was with you, even her name was magic, the way those two syllables rang beautifully in the air as she formally introduced herself for the first time. She spoke English when she talked to you, but you swore that whatever left her mouth was a language of her own, so elegant, sweet, and charming in a way that no English speaker could replicate.

But, one night, her words twisted into daggers, punctuated syllables sharpening into dangerous ends, the beginning of each sentence like a handle she grabbed and used to hurt you further, twist until it was lodged as deeply into your chest as it could go.

You weren’t sure what you did to make it happen. Maybe it was just a bad night. She was drunk, after all, home from some party with the Avengers that you hadn’t gone to. The two of you had talked it over before, though, both agreeing that it was too soon in your relationship to attend anything where it’d be publicly released, which was why you were confused about why she was cursing you out for abandoning her, not being there when you needed her.

You promised that you’d be sure to go next time. Wanda just turned around, dismissing you without another word. You weren’t sure what was worse, the silence or her words. She somehow missed the tears that streamed down your face.

The next day, she knocked on your door. This time, she was the one in tears, the rate at which they fell only increasing when she saw how puffy your eyes were.

“I- I’m sorry,” she bumbled, the sounds tumbling out of her mouth like a barrel coming down the Niagara Falls. She couldn’t have stopped them if she tried. You watched her struggle through an apology, something about her insecurities being magnified as she saw all the other couples around her seemingly happy. She just wanted that. And even though her speech was much more clumsy than the usual effortless diction you were used to hearing from her, you allowed her words to draw you in, provide you shelter from the horrors you’d experienced yesterday, when your heart raced and blood rushed your ears and your palms were so sweaty you couldn’t get a grip on anything. You allowed her arms to draw you in, make you feel safe. You allowed her to bring you home.

---

Wanda saw a side of you that no one had ever seen before. Scratch that, Wanda saw all of you. Where others would’ve looked away or missed the true meaning of your words, she dug deeper. You lived your whole life with a mask on, swapping one out for another to appease those around you. Wanda took them all off.

But she didn’t force them off; she made you want to take them off. You were the one who peeled them off one by one, the experience being extremely unnerving every time you revealed that much more of yourself to her, but you always found yourself relieved at the end. Because she accepted you, she loved you.

Right?

---

You called her once, during a mission. It was something the two of you had been doing ever since you started dating. You would ask how she was doing, make sure she was okay, and she’d do the same for you. Of course, when her missions were off-the-grid you didn’t call, but if the two of you were allowed to stay in contact, she insisted that you guys do so.

“I have to make sure my love is okay,” she’d murmured, just before she left for her first mission since the two of you started your relationship. She was holding you in her arms as the two of you swayed back and forth. Your feet were bare for once, the cold kitchen tile underfoot grounding the both of you. Neither of you had wanted to let go; your hands were clasped firmly together around her waist, and hers rested on top of yours. But eventually, the incessant honking from Tony became too much, and the two of you reluctantly moved apart.

“I’ll call you the second I can, yeah? And make sure you call me in the morning when you wake up.”

“I will,” you nodded as Wanda’s hand came up to brush against your cheek.

But somehow she’d forgotten about your agreement, and nothing but annoyance filled your ear, the phone pressed up against it.

“Y/N, I really don’t have time for this right now.” You sucked in a breath, her tone an instant reminder of that night she’d yelled at you. But that was so long ago. And you hadn’t done anything; there wasn’t a party you’d missed since then, not a moment since then that you’d let her feel alone. Or was there?

“I- I’m sorry,” you stuttered. “Should I call you back later?” All you got was a sigh, doubt and panic filling your chest in the momentary silence.

“We’ll see. Goodbye, milaya.” There was barely a pause in between her voice and the disconnect tone. You weren’t sure if the pet name was sincere or a habit leftover from the good times.

Were you still in the good times?

What went wrong?

Where did you go wrong?

She came back from the mission, and all was well again. She spun you around and around, her melodious giggles filling your ears and causing the corners of your mouth to lift. But you couldn’t help your brows from cinching inwards, wondering where this Wanda had been when you’d called. Was it just another fluke, or maybe something you’d imagined?

“I love you, printsessa, so, so much,” Wanda whispered. You loved the way her smooth voice filled your ears, made you feel whole again. Maybe it was the kitchen? Was that the place she felt safe, the place where she felt like she could love you fully? Maybe that’s why she seemed so closed off during the mission. When you didn’t respond, too lost in thought, she spoke up again.

“Detka, d’you know you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me? I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Her eyes sparkled. No red mist emerged from her fingertips, but you swore Wanda’s essence was magic in and of itself. How could you ever deny her?

You surrendered.

“I love you too. More than anything in the world.”

---

The next day, Wanda woke you up with excitement filling her voice, insisting that you come with her to the compound to pick up some of the things she’d left behind.

“I want to show you off,” she’d laughed as she rolled you over.

“We’ve already met, babe. They love me, you’ve said so yourself,” you groaned. She shook her head as she corralled you into the bathroom.

“You haven’t met all of them! Now c’mon, let’s go!” You agreed, and she was right, there were lots of new people there.

“You must be Y/N, right?” You nodded as you shook the man’s hand.

“I’m Clint. I’ve heard, um, lots about you. And your socks.” The two of you laughed at his joke, but something about his chuckle was off. His smile never quite reached his eyes. Wanda whisked you off too soon for you to figure out why though, bringing you over to a rather large man. No, god, he’s a god. Thor, he said. His name is Thor.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’d responded.

“The love of my life,” Wanda sighed, her voice wispy and dreamy. The god’s eyebrows had raised at that.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you then, Y/N. I didn’t know Wanda was so fortunate as to have a love so strong.” Sometimes you had to remind yourself of that too. “You are very lucky, my friend.” Am I?

You exchanged jokes with Natasha, learned of some of Bruce and Tony’s new projects, listened to stories of Thor’s childhood adventures on Asgard; the night went well. Until it didn’t.

You were yanked into a mostly empty room, the door quickly shut behind you. Was that a flash of red you’d seen in the corner of your eye?

“What did you do?” someone hissed. The voice was familiar, but by this point, you weren’t sure if it filled you with dread or joy when you heard it. Was that part of the excitement of your relationship, trying to figure out the complexities of it all, trying to predict which version of your lover you’d get this time?

“I don’t know,” you whispered. “I didn’t do anything, Wanda, I swear!”

“Then why is Clint telling me to break up with you? What did you say to him?” Your head shook, your whole body shook. This was news to you.

“I didn’t say anything. Please, Wan-”

“How am I supposed to believe that, Y/N? Do you really think he’d just make that up out of nowhere?” You tried to find the words, the ones you should say, the ones she’d want you to say. You had nothing. The witch’s anger grew, her hands slamming down on her sides. “God, Y/N! It’s like sometimes I don’t even know who you are!”

But wait, that was how you felt. Wasn’t it? Or had you dreamed that up too? What had you done?

“Wanda, I promise I didn’t do anything. I’ve been friendly to him all night.”

“So you expect me to believe he’s lying, then.” Your eyes fell to her chest, its rise and fall rapid but deep, going up and down several times before she spoke again. “Y/N, he named his child after my brother. Why would he lie to me?” You could do nothing, say nothing to fix this. You weren’t sure exactly what you did, but you’d messed up. Again.

“Maybe he’s right, then.” Her hand ran through her hair, the brown locks that you loved to twist around your own fingers, play with as she laid in your lap, a show playing in the background. You missed those times.

But weren’t you just doing that last night?

You weren’t sure. It seemed like so long ago.

---

Weeks, months, even a year passed. Wanda had apologized for that night at the compound. She’d also apologized for the countless number of other times the two of you had fought since then. But it was okay, you’d thought, because for all those arguments was an equal number of moments where the two of you laughed so hard you couldn’t breathe, slow-danced at 3 AM, used your hairbrushes as microphones to sing concerts for your millions of fans. At least, you thought it was an equal number. Did number matter anyway?

Wanda went from being your girlfriend, to being your fiancé, to being your wife. Like Thor had said, you were “very lucky.” You are very lucky. Because right now, you’re looking down at the stick in your hand, and there are two lines, not one. The two of you had done something so many couldn’t; that was a huge blessing. And now you had to tell Wanda.

Finding the box was harder than you thought, but the other part was much easier. All you had to do was go to the store Wanda had taken you to all that time ago, the small store on the corner. And when the brunette lifted open the lid to find a pair of socks so tiny they could only be for one thing, one person, one baby, she knew. She was ecstatic. You were relieved.

Four weeks. Four weeks later from that day was the worst day of your life. Just as quickly as the baby had come, it had gone. He or she was gone. Was it your fault? The doctor had been quick to shut those thoughts down, insisting that there were many factors that could’ve caused the miscarriage, but you certainly weren’t one of them.

But Wanda didn’t talk to you for a whole week, spending the nights in the guest bedroom to avoid you. It was the longest the two of you had gone without speaking. That had to mean something, right?

It did. It meant that it shouldn’t have been a surprise when you came home from work the following Monday to find half of the things missing. All of her things.

The box was still there, though; you saw it out of the corner of your eye. It sat on top of a cabinet, the two socks poking out of the top.

The two of you had fallen in love with those tiny socks faster than you’d fallen in love with each other. They held so much love, so much promise. But now they were empty, devoid of anything they might’ve held just hours before. They were nothing more than a painful reminder of what could have been, what should have been. Meanwhile, your own socks were still on, the same ones Wanda had given to you on your first date. You weren’t sure you could take them off if you tried. Was that a reminder too? Did it have significance?

The ticking of the clock suddenly caught your attention. You had been standing at the doorway for thirty minutes, but what were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to go somewhere? Where would you go? Wanda was gone, not leaving any clue as to where she could’ve run off to, and you were alone.

When was the last time you’d been truly alone?

Didn’t you use to like being alone?

You grabbed your keys. You weren’t sure what you were looking for, but whatever it was, you wouldn’t find it here.

You push open the door, always the one on the right. Walk twenty or so steps through the entrance, turn left. Take another left, then walk-

It was different. Completely different. The shelves weren’t the same color, metal had been swapped for wood, the carpet was new; what had happened?

“Y/N, sweetie, is that you?” Mirabelle’s voice. At least she was still here. You turned to face her, taking in her wrinkled face, the tortoiseshell glasses that had been perched on her nose since you met her as a child. “Oh my goodness, it is! We haven’t seen you in ages. We were all so worried.”

“Wha- what happened to the library?” Her kind smile flipped, her lips separated with their corners turning downwards.

“We got a renovation at the end of last year, honey. Didn’t you see it on the news?”

“Right,” you nodded, swallowing again, trying to push down the lump that had been growing in your throat for over an hour. “Um, where’s the world languages section?”

“Upstairs, love. Take two rights and you’ll see it. Enjoy your visit, okay?” You nodded again, pressing your lips into a wavering smile that Mirabelle accepted.

You found the section easily enough, pushing yourself into one of the beanbags that crowded the floor. It was quiet—you supposed not many people came to the library on a late Tuesday afternoon—but something was missing.

No, that wasn’t it. Nothing was missing. Everything had changed, and you couldn’t settle yourself no matter how hard you tried. You couldn’t recognize the white walls or the large windows that surrounded you. You couldn’t recognize the book in your shaking hands; the title read “Little Women,” but it lacked the comfort and familiarity it once brought you. You couldn’t recognize the artwork that hung on the walls, the large signs suspended from the ceiling.

You caught a reflection in the shiny metal of a book cart that lay several feet away from you.

You couldn’t recognize yourself.

When you finally left the library, Mirabelle frowned as she watched you exit the doors, not stopping to check out a book like you always did. No one should ever leave a library empty-handed. You’d forgotten that too.

---

She came back less than a week later, her cheeks tear-stained and her eyes rimmed with red as she stumbled her way through an apology.

“It was a mistake, detka, I promise. I made such an awful mistake, and I’ll never forgive myself. I won’t blame you if you don’t forgive me either.” You stared at her, neither your eyes nor your mouth moving as you tried to take in what she was saying, tried to come up with an adequate response.

Which had changed more, the library or you?

“Please, you’re the only thing that matters in my life. I can’t lose you.” The melody of her once-full voice was broken, the chords fragmented and notes falling out of tune. It was as broken as you’d felt for the past few days. Maybe she understood. But you couldn’t think anymore because you were suddenly in her arms again, her tears soaking your shirt as she sobbed.

The library had been renovated, its modernity and welcoming environment being a major improvement to the once somewhat dilapidated building. You had slipped, your feet wrapped in the socks Wanda had given you as you stumbled down the dark, crooked hallway of your life, trying desperately to get a hand on the wall, grab a solid footing.

You had two options: save yourself or fall.

“Please, Y/N, please. Promise you’ll stay.”

You fell backwards, your head being the first to slam into the floor.

“Of course I’ll stay, Wan. I’d never leave you.”

You weren’t sure if you’d ever get up. After all, changed or not, what’s a library without its books? Who are you without her?

-----

🏷 : @007giu

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff #avengers x reader #marvel #mcu #I wrote something #alwaysmarveling

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aizawaslovebot · 4 years

Note

Hello idk if you’ll see this or if you’re still accepting request but I wanted to know if you can do an angst male reader where he’s really close to yachi as friends and plays volleyball with the karasuno boys but like he’s ignored and pushed to the side and no one really notices until he leaves the team and moves to Tokyo only to later join the nekoma team and they actually pay attention to him and he kinda has a run in with his old team latter. Sorry if it’s confusing this is my first ask😅

—shadow on the moon

[nekoma x m! reader | karasuno x m! reader]

synopsis: perhaps they relied too much and gave back too less, and this was karma's sign of ending the cycle.

warnings: angst, self-depreciation, + hmm i feel like it's lackluster because i couldn't imagine karasuno doing something like this

words: 1350

—note: i couldn't write the reunion part? idk why i've rewritten it a few times now but i'm not satisfied ㅠㅠ if you want something changed, please tell me!!

<- go to navigation | go to haikyuu m.list ->

It was ambitious of you to dream of becoming heard when they couldn’t even spare you one glance.

You didn’t want to place the blame on the team. It wasn’t their fault that you’ve always been hardly in the limelight. It wasn’t their fault that you’ve always been a wallflower. It wasn’t their fault that you could easily be outshined by anyone in the team.

It was, however, their fault for their inability to notice your presence no matter how hard you tried.

As a middle blocker in Karasuno, it was appalling how they failed to acknowledge you and your prowess— to the point that you even doubted you had the ability to block for the team at all. Communication has never been easy for an introvert like you, who always depended on the possibility of some extrovert adopting you into their social circle. So despite the overflowing hurt built up on the prospect of being casted to the sidelines, always shoved to the benches as a warmer, you were unable to voice anything out.

This arrangement continued even through your second year with the team. Heck, it even got worse— with the way Hinata, who, no matter how small, easily got the attention of everyone, and Kageyama, a naturally-born genius with a career ahead of him, you were easily overshadowed by first years of all people.

Truthfully, you should’ve been in Nekoma High right now. At the end of your first year at Karasuno, your dad was promoted and was given the privilege of an apartment in Tokyo for easier access to his new work. You were very naive to push the move to months later, desperately hoping for at least acknowledgement from the team, that they recognize you as one of their middle blockers.

It wasn’t the case at all. Were you that replaceable? Were you that insignificant to the team? Were you that unnoticeable? Were you so useless that they won’t even miss you at all?

Perhaps he could take back that last thought.

A very kindhearted first year managed to notice you, introvertedness and all. Yachi Hitoka had come to be someone very dear to you, someone who had always been ignored. You were not used to the attention she gave you but you managed to get used to her warmth. The way she’d greet you first out of anyone in the gym or the way she fretted whenever you needed to be bandaged on the rare days you get to play— everything about her was warm.

And you’d be forever grateful for the kindness, the attention, and the love she had extended for someone as unnoticeable as you.

Sadly, all the tears can’t be prevented. Even as Yachi rushed to see you one last time before your departure, nothing can’t stop the inevitable partition between a wall-flower like you and the continuously developing crows. You couldn’t help noticing the way only she had come to see you one last time, but you swallowed it all once you remembered you chose not to tell anyone else.

It’s not like they cared anyway.

But, there’s no use dwelling on the past. You’re far happier where you are today— with a family who always made it upon themselves to vocalize their recognition for the immense talent you had.

You had met the members of Nekoma twice: on that one game on the last day of golden week and during the training camp in Tokyo. Sure, you weren’t actually given the chance to play that much but you were beyond amazed at their prowess. No one seemed to outshine anyone in the team and everyone worked harmoniously regardless of their skill level. What you silently wished for, the chance of having a team like that, actually came true.

The day you joined them was memorable, far more memorable than you’ve ever imagined.

“Y-You’re K-Karasuno’s middle blocker!” Number 7, Inuoka, you think, gasped when you entered the gym with Coach Nekomata and Coach Naoi.

Taken aback at how you, of all people, were easily recognized, you staggered in embarrassment. You hid behind Coach Naoi which caused the two coaches to snort or laugh because of your actions.

Lev perked up in curiosity, vaguely remembering a middle blocker from the last training camp who, despite the way he stood out from the rest, wasn’t actually a starter. Stumbling like a deer who was recently born into the world, Lev ran up to you with sparkling eyes. However, it was really a scary sight if anyone were in your shoes.

“Why are you at Nekoma? Why weren’t you a starter? How come I’m taller than you but you’re better? Is there a se—” Yaku, the one who was like Suga-senpai, grinned wryly and dragged the excitable first year away from you after he apologized.

After hearing the coach’s announcement regarding your transfer, Kuroo smirked.

“It looks like Karasuno carelessly let someone as talented as you go.”

Judging from the way you flinched, Kenma immediately concluded there was more to it so he kicked the captain’s shin without regard.

“A-ah… They don’t really notice me at all,” was your quiet reply, which took everyone by surprise.

“EHH?! Well, we’ll take care of you! Welcome to Nekoma, (L-(L/N)-san!!” Yamamoto cheered, though he faltered when he shyly uttered your name.

The team was far more accepting, you mused, as you were unable to stop the comparison from your former team. It wasn’t that Karasuno was all high and mighty— they just couldn’t make it feel like you were a part of them and for so long, you figured it was because of how you were behind everyone else.

Nekoma reminded you that despite that, if that were really the case, you weren’t alone. They like to exaggerate by saying you were really talented, and you were, and it made you feel like you were having progress— like you were part of the family.

While you slowly began to progress from your past, the flock of crows weren’t doing so well. In fact, they weren’t doing good at all. When Yachi arrived to practice, right after the day you left, no one could deny the drop in her mood. Something was wrong but no one could place it.

Their ignorance only made Yachi even sadder.

Their realization came later than anyone ever wanted. No one could deny the decline in their defense. After all, they had always been too complacent— relying on the shadow of which they were sure was there to block in place of others. Perhaps they relied too much and gave back too less, and this was karma’s sign of ending the cycle. The shadow of which they relied on has found its light, leaving everyone else in the dark.

The quality of Karasuno’s plays slowly declined and it shone through during their practice match with Dateko before they leave for Tokyo. There’s nothing they could do though. After hearing from Kenma that their middle blocker transferred to them— to their fated rival, of all people— the mood amongst the members dropped. They can’t be like the protagonists in coming of age movies where limits are non-existent or main characters who, despite all odds and flaws, get to reunite with their love interest. They know that they’re living in reality and reality has made it a point to tell them how big of a mistake it was to underestimate you, your skills, and your being.

No one would expect, not even Coach Ukai or Coach Takeda, that you had been so hurt all this time. All they could do is wait for the day that the fated rivals battle it off in court, and this time, you stand on the opposite side.

It was ambitious of you to dream that you would be heard, but not a single soul can stop a dreamer from reaching their goals. It was ambitious to dream that they would finally realize your worth but you succeeded. So as they weep in regret and sorrow over their late revelation, you finally stand proud with the family you always wanted.

—reblogging helps, thank youu!!

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #nekoma x male reader #karasuno x male reader #angst #platonic #haikyuu!!#hq #x reader #x male reader #daichi sawamura #kuroo tetsuroo #yachi hitoka x male reader

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justletmeplayminecraft · 3 years

Text

Moving Day

it's the day that comes at the end of every season. and yet, somehow, the hermits still get caught off guard by it.

featuring: hermit ensemble, slice of life fluff, imagine moving houses but like every year and a half, werewolf!ren, something!joe, artic fox!etho, he is vaguely developed, there's pretty much no plot, just fluff, an ode to the end of this season

"Zed, you're gonna be late!" Tango calls as he drops in through the ceiling. With a bang, a mop of blond hair pokes out of the central storage. Zed rubs his head, pulling himself up.

"You're the one who distracted me with the Create world!" He replies, hauling a bag up the ladder with him. Tango laughs, throwing it over his shoulder as Zed flops onto the stone ground.

"Sure I was, it's not like you brought it up." Zed huffs, rolling his eyes. He holds his hands up towards Tango, who laughs. "Oh, you want to go over my shoulder too?" He teases.

"You are insufferable," Zed mutters, pushing off the stone himself instead. The cold is starting to seep through his cardigan.

"Have you packed everything?" Tango asks. Zed holds his fingers up to count off.

"Yes, I've checked everything four times! Maybe five, actually. I don't think there's anything left." Zed looks back at the ladders, closing his fist. Tango examines the pile of bags, humming.

"So you're sure you don't want me or Impulse to check for you?" Zed's mouth opens.

"Actually, can you check anyway?" He asks, "You know, just in case!" Tango laughs, giving Zed's shoulder a bump.

"Of course we will. But let's move these before Xisuma forgets them." Zed nods, quick to grab some of the bags. He heaves them up, almost buried under them.

"Season eight here we come!"

"You two!" Doc calls, scooping up the white fox before he manages to rush past him. Ren very nearly runs straight into his legs. The wolf sits down, ears twitching as he stares at Etho. Etho sticks his tongue out, Doc struggling to keep a hold on the silky fur. "You two aren't helping, you know that?" Ren barks, tail wagging. "Yeah, yeah."

With a wiggle, Etho manages to slip out of Doc's arms. He jumps up, curling around his shoulders instead and getting comfortable. Doc sighs. He bats Etho's shawl out of his face, ignoring the amused chitter. Counting, he finds most of his bags already in his ender chest. Luckily, because the two animals playing around him are making it difficult. Unlike-

"Doc," Bdubs cries, "Have you seen my razor?" Bdubs doesn't even bother with the door. Doc looks down at him on the lawn.

"Have you checked your half?" He asks.

Bdubs throws a hand up, "Of course I've checked my half, but Keralis tried to drag me into packing all his junk so I had to make a speedy escape!" Doc chuckles, watching as Ren jumps down to nose at Bdubs' hand. "Oh, hello, Ren!" Bdubs jumps into baby-talk immediately, crouching down. "Fancy you being here!"

"Please, take him-" Doc waves, "-The two of them keep running through my feet." Bdubs strokes through the fluff of Ren's neck, glancing up and spotting Etho.

"Oh, Etho as well!" Bdubs waves. Etho yips in reply, ear twitching. Then Bdubs pauses, looking at Ren properly. "Ah-ha, Snips! Of course, right-" Bdubs jumps up, "Thanks guys, I'll see you at the town hall!" Doc looks at Ren as Bdubs runs off.

"You going with him?" He asks. Ren's tail wags, staring at Doc. He sighs. "Right, of course not." Doc picks Etho off his shoulder, dropping him on the floor to a surprised squeak. "If only there was a way to attach some bags to the two of you." Both animalmits freeze, sharing a look with each other. Doc can't help but feel satisfied as they scarper towards the nearest nether portal together. "Perfect." He can finish packing in peace.

"Do you think you've got everything?" Wels asks, perched on a chest. Beef hauls his bag out the door with a huff.

"Well, I've got you. That's half the challenge." He looks up in time to see Wels rolling his eyes, pushing his helmet up.

"I take it back, I'm not helping you anymore."

Beef laughs, clapping Wels' arm, "We've still got Three Fox Hole to look through, you're not going anywhere yet." Wels' lips twist into a pout, crossing his arms.

"You know, when I packed early, it wasn't with the intention of doing your packing for you," he replies. But, when Beef holds out a bag, he still takes it.

"And I appreciate it!" Beef grins at him. "Maybe I'll reward you with some of my finest wallpaper-"

"Oh, please no." Wels' eyes are wide, staring in mock horror. "I might never recover."

"Oh, blackmail works too, then." Beef stands, walking past him. Wels slips off the chest, frozen in place.

"Beef- Beef, are you joking?" Beef keeps walking. Wels runs after him. "Beef!"

"Thanks for heading out this far, man," xB says, smiling at Keralis. "I know you've got a big space to cover too."

"Ah, it's nice taking a break," Keralis replies, holding one of xB's bags in his arms. "And I know there's no way this would all fit in your ender chest, princess." xB chuckles, looking at the half-folded clothes, trinkets, and daily essentials all sorted into piles.

"Yeah-" he scrubs the back of his neck. "-I kinda forget I've got so much. Too used to my travel bag." Keralis bounces the one in his arms.

"Well, it's a good job you've got me!" He bumps into xB's side, barely knocking the other hermit off balance. "I can always lend you some extra bags if you need them."

"The luggage dimension is just going to be my stuff at this rate," xB jokes.

"Oh, you haven't seen how much I have yet." They both laugh, Keralis putting the bag down with the rest that have been packed. "Now, what are we doing next?" xB turns to observe his piles.

"I think that one," he decides. Keralis nods, skipping across.

"Then let's go, we don't want to be late!"

"Cub!" Scar's voice calls down the pyramid. "I cannot believe this." Cub turns to see Scar walking along the corridor, wings fluttering in annoyance behind him. "Xisuma says my crystals aren't essential items so I can't take them. That's so unfair." Cub laughs before he can stop himself, getting an affronted noise from Scar. "Cub! I come here, I confide in you-"

"Scar," Cub interrupts, squeezing Scar's arm. Vex magic sparks around them, electrifying the air. "You could make some once we're in the next world."

"It's not the same!" Scar protests. Cub leans closer.

"Or," he whispers, "We could sneak some across ourselves."

"Oh." Scar claps his hands together. "Now you're speaking my language."

"The language of crime?" Cub asks, calling one of his bags over to him. He catches it mid-air.

"The only language I know!"

"This is why you should've made a proper storage system!" Mumbo cries, as Grian pulls out the contents of another chest. "This could've been so much easier!"

"I didn't know it was this bad!" Grian replies, finally managing to find his towels buried in an unmarked chest. He throws them towards his 'to pack' pile, Mumbo jumping out of the way.

"Didn't you have weeks to prepare for this?" He asks, looking at the scattered items in dismay.

"I mean- I did host an entire world in-between," Grian reminds him. Mumbo hums in agreement, deciding to organise some of the piles before they end up vanishing into a pure mess. He looks for similarities amongst the items, beginning to sort them into manageable groups.

Mumbo's lucky he thought to get all his essentials together ahead of time. He gave his luggage to Xisumavoid to store, and he knows it's all taken care of. It didn't stop him from checking his base another ten times, but he's pretty sure he's got everything now. Pretty sure.

He's going to end up checking his base again later, isn't he?

"Grian?" Mumbo asks, pausing as he notices something. The rummaging through chests stops, with only a quiet thud & 'ow' before Grian is looking at him.

"Yeah?" He replies.

"Do you… actually have any bags?"

"Ahhhh," Grian's face turns a similar scarlet to his jumper. "You see, Mumbo, last season, I kinda… borrowed some."

"Borrowed, right." Mumbo sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "Were you ever going to buy your own?"

"Yes!" Grian replies, words fast. "I just. Never had time." Mumbo's had most of his bags since he joined, so he guesses he can't relate. Pretty much all the hermits gifted him one. Otherwise, he would've never remembered at that age, but that's its own problem. It's a good job he remembers the essentials even now.

"So, how do you intend on packing all this?"

Grian hums, "Do you think I could just shove it in there loose?"

"I'll go find some bags," Mumbo decides. And something to help his headache...

"How many cats do you think I could smuggle to the next server?" Cleo asks, holding up another of her kittens to Joe. Joe hums thoughtfully, bright green hair moving on its own accord.

"Well, I've certainly smuggled a few of my dogs inside myself." Cleo takes a deep breath, transferring her kitten to one hand so she can pinch her nose.

"Right, of course you have." She's long learnt to stop questioning how Joe works. She's a living zombie, he's Joe. At least it makes packing easier. "I think I might take some of them to my own world, this time," she muses. "Xisuma can do that, right?"

"I'm sure he can," Joe agrees. "If not, I will have a mass exodus of animals from the server." Cleo sighs, rolling her eyes. She sets the kitten down gently amongst the other cats.

"Right, are you actually going to help me carry my bags?"

"Of course! What kind of friend would I be if I didn't try to stop you losing an arm?"

"Ugh, don't remind me." She still can't believe that happened. First, her arm falling off, then nearly losing it amongst everybody's luggage? So embarrassing. She enters the main room of her base, where she's already got her bags set out. It's surprising how many skincare products you need when you're dead. Joe follows, looking around as if he doesn't know the place like the back of his hands. To be fair, Cleo would be surprised if anybody knew the back of Joe's hands.

"Right, I've shoved as much as I can in my ender chest. If you put what you can in yours, we can divide the remainder up," she lays out the action plan.

"Sounds perfect!" Joe picks up two bags. "Are you sure you don't just want me to transport them over?"

"Keep your true self off my stuff, Joe, you know what happened last time."

Joe sighs, "Fine, fine. We'll do this the human way."

"You'll do this the human way," she amends. "I'll do it the zombie way."

"Stress, it's only a spider," Iskall says, pointing his sword towards it. Said spider is standing triumphantly on top of her bags, red eyes glinting. Stress pokes around the doorway, brown hair falling across her face.

"Yeah, but it's a spider on me stuff!"

"You've fought worse than spiders!"

"Just get rid of it, Iskall!" He sighs. Readying himself for a fight, he crosses across the room, stamping his foot in front of the pile. The spider hisses, sharp fangs a warning. But when the creature jumps, Iskall's sword is there to meet it, throwing the spider to the ground where it disappears into twinkling orbs.

"Look, was that so hard?" Iskall asks, his hand on his hip as he looks back at her. Stress bounces in, grinning.

"It wasn't, was it? Guess I don't need to thank you, then!" Iskall rolls his eyes, slipping his sword back into his inventory.

"Like you don't need to thank me for helping carry your stuff?"

"Oh, I'll thank you for that." Iskall laughs, grabbing the strap of two bags and throwing them over his shoulder.

"How many trips do you think we'll need?" He asks, seeing her haul two up herself. Stress hums, observing the pile.

"Prob'ly only two or three. If we get started soon then we'll get done faster, too." Iskall can hear the teasing tone in her voice.

"Aren't you the one that was scared of a spider?"

"Don't know what you're talkin' about!" She calls, walking past him. Iskall shakes his head, smiling fondly before rushing after her.

"Hey TFC!" False calls, touching down at his base. She smiles at the sight of his usual suitcases, already neatly packed and organized. Everything's labelled in TFC's signature handwriting to boot. Far more planned out than her, she's gotta say. But that's a problem for the next world.

"False, what can I help you with?" TFC's smile is always nice to see. She flicks her elytra closed, waving.

"I came to ask you that, actually," she replies. "Wanted to know if you'd like help carrying things over. I did all my packing a few weeks back, so I'm kinda bored." And if she stays still for too long, X will probably try to rope her into admin duties. Sure, she knows the basics, but she doesn't want to be responsible for anybody's stuff going missing. Not her department.

"Well, I'm never going to turn down some extra hands," TFC replies. He walks over and pats the suitcases on the left. "These are all ready to go, I'm still finishing up with the others. Has Xisuma already started?"

"I think he was just finishing the pocket dimension, so you've still got a little while." The hermits always rush to be the first in, as if everybody's stuff won't fit. In False's opinion, being last is best. It's easier to get your things out when they're closer to the entrance.

"Good, good. Let him know I'm nearly finished, would you?"

False nods, saluting with one hand and picking up a suitcase with the other, "Will do!"

Hypno walks into Jevin's base to find him and Impulse slotting the last few items into boxes. He knows Jevin was mostly packed already, so it's nice Impulse has come to help out. But… Jevin might just be taking advantage of Impulse. Hypno won't think too much into it.

"X has finished setting up," he calls, not needing an introduction. Jevin twists to look at him, Impulse busy trying to fit a label on straight.

"So you're saying I'm late?" Jevin asks. Hypno chuckles, deciding to join them on the floor.

"You know what the rush is like to get stuff in. You'll be fine for a little while." Hypno shrugs, "After Wels, X'll probably be careful." Impulse nods, sitting back now the label of 'hoodies' is attached.

"I've already handed my stuff in," Impulse says, "I think False might have too? We both finished up pretty early."

"Yeah, there was a lot in the town hall ready to be moved." Hypno wonders if the hermits are getting more prepared for this. Somehow, he doubts it.

"So, you've come to help me carry these over?" Jevin asks, Hypno looks at the boxes, shrugging.

"With all three of us, it should only be two trips, right?" There are only five boxes, and two are pretty small anyway.

"That's the spirit!" Impulse calls, grinning. "Do you think you're all ready to go?"

"Yep, I think that's everything," Jevin decides. He pats a box, making more of a squelching sound. Hypno does his best not to laugh.

"Then let's get moving!"

Xisuma sighs as his visor adjusts to filter out the sunlight. Coding that in was a stroke of genius. It used to be such a nightmare to continuously adjust between the pocket dimension and hermitcraft. He looks at the stacked luggage to be moved, trying to figure out if there's more there than before. He swears there is. And they didn't even say hi when they dropped it off! Rude.

He jumps when something nudges the back of his knees, sending him stumbling forward. Turning, he finds Ren, his tail wagging proudly behind him.

"Oh! Hello there." He reaches down, giving Ren a scratch behind the ears. "Are you planning to change back before we move?" Ren barks in reply. "I'll pretend that's yes."

Turning, he sees a white tail flicking over blue diamonds. Of course, those two are together. Etho's curled up in the sun, black eyes watching the pair. One ear is stuck up, the other flopped lazily.

"You two aren't going to help me carry things in, are you?" X asks, sighing as he looks back at Ren.

"I think Ren forgot to leave a spare pair of clothes out, actually," Etho says, legs dangling off the throne. He's tugging his shawl over his nose now he's in human form. Or, as human as Etho gets. "And his outfit may have experienced some... unfortunate circumstances." Xisuma looks at Ren's sad eyes, shaking his head at the pair of them.

"And those didn't involve you in any way?" X asks Etho with what he thinks is an appropriate amount of suspicion in his voice. Etho holds his hands up, leaning back in a way that would have most people falling over.

"Are you accusing me, Xisuma?"

"I don't know, am I, Ren?" Ren gives a concise nod. Etho gasps, clutching over his heart.

"Betrayed by my own brethren!" Etho cries. Ren's tail is wagging, betraying his otherwise neutral expression.

"Come and help me carry things, you," X says, calling Etho over. "We'll be here for another month if you don't." Etho laughs, but jumps off the side of the throne, landing with barely a thud.

"What are we moving, bossman?" Etho asks. Xisuma surveys the piles.

"Mumbo's stuff next, I think," X decides, "He usually takes a while to unpack." Etho nods, following X's lead as they grab a bag and box respectively.

"So this is what you guys do at the end of the season?" Etho asks, Ren trotting along with them. Xisuma hums as he enters the pocket dimension, finding an open space at the back of the room.

"Yep, this is moving day," he explains. "I always try my best to make it easy for the hermits, but it doesn't often end up working." Etho chuckles, placing the bag on top of X's box.

"Seems like most people aren't done yet," Etho agrees.

"They'll get there," Xisuma replies. The hermits always do eventually.

They're just stepping out of the portal when a voice calls, "I'm not late am I?!" X scruffs Ren's neck, smiling at Zed, who's running over with far too many bags thrown over his back.

"Not at all, friend," he reassures him. Zed drops his bags, bent over and panting. Tango strolls up behind him far more leisurely.

"See, Zed, I said you wouldn't be!" Zed whips in his direction.

"Oh, you, mister 'oh Zed you're going to be late, we're all going to leave you behind', you-" Tango laughs, fluffing Zed's hair as he sets his bags down. They take the rest of his luggage out of the ender chest Xisuma left specifically for this purpose. Beef and Wels walk up together as they do, Xisuma waving to them.

"Beefers!" Etho says, grinning.

"Hey Etho, Tango, Zed, Xisuma." Beef pauses, "Oh, and a Ren!"

"Hey guys!" Wels simplifies, dropping his bags at the doors. "This should be everything from us."

"Perfect!" Xisuma nods, "You guys okay to help me carry things through?"

"Yeah, we can help out!" "That's cool with me."

Moving things goes a lot faster with five of them helping to carry things through. Xisuma just catches Impulse, Jevin and Hypno dropping one lot off, getting a frantic wave before the trio is rushing off again. The pocket dimension is quickly filling up with bags and boxes, the hermits a constant line as they drop in and out. Xisuma frequently checks, but it seems like the dimension is handling the pressure okay.

"Xisuma!" Joe calls, him and Cleo wandering up the town hall's stairs. By this point, Cub and Scar have joined them with TFC, False, Stress and Iskall all dropping things off too.

"Good to see you both," X greets, one of Wels' bags hugged in his arms. He turns away, before hesitating, something nagging the back of his mind. After a second of focus- "Joe, why do you have so many hitboxes inside you?"

"Ah, that's nothing you have to worry about, dear admin." Xisuma gives him a long look and decides this isn't a battle he's going to pick.

"As long as you're willing to help out," he says, instead. "We're only waiting for a few people. He takes a look at the gathered hermits. Cleo's now lying on the floor, Ren beside her. His tail is already wagging again. Cub is picking a box up, whilst Scar skips through the portal holding three bags with magic. Etho's chatting to Tango and Zed as they work.

"Of course! We'll be finished in no time." It's already taken most of the day, but X doesn't need to mention that. He sets his vision back to normal, does another check of the pocket dimension, and returns to carrying boxes.

The remaining hermits trickle in as the sun sets. Stress and Beef sort out dinner for everyone, Xisuma making sure the last of the luggage is safe.

"Wait!" A few heads turn at Grian's cry, heavy footsteps rushing up to town hall. "I- I've got my stuff." Xisuma blinks at the sight of the hermit carrying about four bags at once. One is bright pink.

"You're not too late," X reassures him. "You can just drop it in, there should be room." He's settled into a shaded corner, preparing for the process of safely moving over twenty players. And Joe. If he's being honest, the data is starting to give him a headache. But it'll be worth it once they're all in their new world. Their temporary 'in-between' world is already set up. Somewhere for them all to stay whilst he handles the switch over. Most of the hermits take the time to visit friends or do other projects during that, anyway.

"Thanks, X," Grian says, between gasps. He runs into the portal, X laughing softly to himself. Mumbo walks up a few minutes later, glancing at the group.

"Is Grian in there?" He asks. Before X can even reply, about four hermits are giving an affirmative. "Thanks, guys!" Mumbo heads in after, only two bags in tow. X watches, well-aware of the fondness in his chest. It's a good reminder of just what he does this for.

It's another hour until everything's ready. The sun is hanging over the horizon (Xisuma may have frozen the day cycle a while back.) X has watched warily as they've shared food, chatted, played games (including one very dramatic wink murder. He's not sure what happened in Grian's server, and he's not sure he wants to ask.) But now, they've all gathered around, watching as Xisuma enters the final commands.

"Okay, everybody here knows the drill. Stay with somebody else, I want to do a headcount on the other side, then you're all free to wander." He projects his voice, the hermits hushing to listen. "Is everybody ready?"

"Yeah!" "Born ready!" "We've been ready for hours!" "Is there food on the other side?"

X shakes his head. With a final press of the enter key, the portal opens in front of the diamond throne. There's a collective murmur of anticipation.

"Alright, you lot can head through. I'll join you in half an hour, max." He can't even make out words following that. TFC and False are first, walking through with a wave to the others. Stress and Iskall run after them. The rest of the hermits take their time. Some share hugs, some take a last look at the horizon. And Xisuma watches over it all, determined every single one of his hermits will make it safely through.

"X?" Impulse calls. He and Hypno are standing together. The town hall feels so much emptier now the hermits are gone. "You sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll be fine," Xisuma promises. "All standard procedure. I'll see you soon." They nod, sharing a last smile.

"Okay then. Stay safe, X."

"You two as well. Try and keep the others from misbehaving until I get there."

Hypno laughs, "No promises."

And like that, Xisuma's alone. He sighs, sinking back against the diamond throne. The sun casts golden beams over the land. This has been… a good season. They all are, but. Xisuma smiles as he sets the tick speed of the world to zero, freezing it in time. He thinks next season will be something special. It only takes fifteen minutes to finish his commands, the rest he needs to do on the other side.

"Goodbye, old friend." He pats the diamond throne. With a look over the eerily still shopping district, he sighs. It really is the hermits that fill a world with life, isn't it? "To more admin work," he murmurs, before laughing at himself.

"Shishwam?" Xisuma jumps, clutching his chestplate.

"Oh my goodness, you scared me." Keralis giggles. He's waiting in front of the portal, hands in his pockets. "I thought you went through."

"Well..." Keralis starts, "Somebody said we needed to go through the portal with someone else. And then I thought of a certain admin going through alone..." Xisuma laughs, shaking his head. He joins Keralis, swirling colours reflecting off his armour.

"Of course you did." He takes a deep breath. "Well, I'm ready to go." Keralis wraps his arm around Xisuma's shoulders, squeezing him tight.

"You've done a good job this season, Shishwammy. I hope you know that." Xisuma sneaks one last look out the doorway before they leave this world behind.

"Yeah." He smiles. "I think I do."

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #my writing #catch me last minute changing the entire ending #but im easing myself back into writing #and what better than a homage to the changing of seasons?

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stxleslyds · 3 years

Note

Hei,

I like your explaination about batfamily or more to dick-family. I haven't read all the og stories, so your explaination is really helpful to know the dynamics between all of them.

I have a question. I don't follow Urban Legends, but I've seen some screenshot pages of it. At the end of Jason's story, didn't Bruce finally reach out to Jason and willing to have connection again? Or was Urban Legends forced?

Hey there anon!

Urban Legends is an anthologies book. And it featured a Red Hood centric story called ‘Cheer’ that had six parts, the story is now complete.

At the end of UL, Bruce and Jason didn’t end up connecting, I will actually say that things didn’t change at all between them. Jason, who decided to not use guns anymore, said that he wasn’t making the change for Bruce or his rules, he was making the change for himself, because he needed to figure out what he wanted to do. I will leave the panels down here.

So, Bruce and Jason “connecting” wasn’t forced (because they didn’t connect) what was forced though was the whole story. Urban Legends: Cheer is a story made with the sole purpose of monetizing the “Batfamily”. The story did, and I am not exaggerating, nothing good for Jason. The only thing it did was harm pre-Robin, Robin Jason and Red Hood’s characterizations.

I will link here the reviews that I made about each part, because I talk more in depth about my issues with each issue, if you read them, you will notice how I grow increasingly frustrated by Chip Zdarsky’s writing and his Jason characterization.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6.

Now, the panels that you might have seen of the last part of urban Legends might be these (I might be wrong).

These panels come from a very out of character illusion that Jason is having. I cannot emphasize how out of character this illusion is. Jason wanting to be part of this happy and normal version of the “Batfamily” is just character assassination at its finest (or at least that’s my opinion). Even in his illusion (that was provoked by the Cheer gas that supposedly makes you see a world where you are truly happy) Jason isn’t convinced that its real. So, it is very messy.

If it wasn’t that what you saw then maybe it was the panels from Bruce’s vision, that show him having killed the Joker and welcoming Jason to the family once more. Those panels are also a mess but not because Bruce “killed” the Joker but because no one truly believes that Bruce will live a happy and normal life if he kills the clown, Gotham has several villains and weird people. Also, Bruce killing the Joker at this point in time kinda means nothing so yeah.

And if none of that was what you saw, then maybe it was the letter that Bruce left in Jason’s living space with a brand-new suit with a bat symbol on it.

The thing in the end is that Bruce and Jason didn’t work anything out, they didn’t talk about anything that might lead the reader to think that things are good between them. DC is very vague when it comes to resolving the immense problems that the Bat related characters have with each other. DC basically tried to duct tape Bruce and Jason’s relationship with a suit that has a bat-symbol, insinuating that Jason is welcomed to the “Batfamily”. But nothing of real essence was achieved, at least I don't think so.

Jason was shown in the last Robin issue teaming up with the other Robins so they could make Damian go back to Bruce and there it is insinuated that Jason has "gone back home" as in the "Batfamily" but none of this is done with actual development of Jason's relationship with anyone.

I don’t know about you anon, but I don’t really like the idea of Jason going back to Bruce or anything Batman related because Bruce has done some horrible things to Jason.

But if you like the idea of the Batfamily or think that Bruce and Jason are on good terms now then I am happy that you are able to get some sort of joy from the current books!

Anyway, have a great week anon!

Before I forget, if you can and want to read some amazing Red Hood stories then I recommend, Batman: Under the Red Hood and Red Hood: The Lost Days!

Oh! Just a clarification, the dynamics that you saw in my Dick-Family post aren’t real, they are the version that I made up in order to justify a relationship like that in comics.

The way that things are handled in comics don’t leave room for the “Batfamily” to actually be a viable concept! Please don’t take the Dick-Family thing as comics canon because it really isn’t. Sorry if I made you believe that Jason, Dick and the others actually have a good relationship, because they don’t.

#jason todd #red hood #bruce wayne #batman #urban legends #urban legends red hood #batman urban legends #urban legends 6 #dc comics

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satoruvt · 4 years

Text

for a moment i forget to worry

pairing → xu minghao x reader

word count → 3196

genre → fluff + angst, college au ↳ tags: strangers to friends to lovers </3, college kinda sux, ROOMMATE CHAN MAKES AN APPEARANCE OR TWO, dance major minghao, reader is completely lost but its ok who isnt, lots of cute couple stuff, pov ur entire relationship with minghao. thats it, a sad break up scene, a solid amount of crying

summary → there’s something about minghao. maybe it’s the way he dances, vibrant and youthful, or maybe it’s the way he loves you. based off of hunger by florence + the machine.

warnings → i hint at sex but its pretty vague, i also mention a breakdown type deal (revolving around school/life after school)

a/n → first of all this was NOT supposed to be 3k words i dont know how it happened. second of all i’m only kind of happy with this HAHA i feel like the story itself isnt bad but i wanted it to match the song more ... idk :/ i hope u guys like it regardless !!!

pieces of you masterlist

The first time you see him is by accident.

Really - all you’re doing is trying to find Chan. You’re passing by the practice rooms, looking into them in hope he’ll be there, stopping to gaze at decorations and medals and trophies lined up on the walls. It’s when you approach a room that music plays from that you think you’ve found Chan, but when you gaze in, it’s definitely not him.

You don’t know who it is, but he moves like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

It’s hypnotizing, almost makes you want to drop your things and dance with him. There’s a sense of youth that comes from him and it’s almost overwhelming - but it’s not in energy, necessarily, but rather from the precision of his movements, the technicalities that he seems to both follow and break at the same time. Something vibrant seeps out between the seams of his body, colors you can barely recognize as they splash against anything they can reach. It’s almost tangible.

You watch him long enough for him to finish his performance (an unknowing one) with the last notes of a song you forgot was even playing. His eyes meet with yours, slow as he completes an eloquent turn, and at the same time, a hand meets your shoulder.

A small wave of embarrassment washes over you, and you turn towards whoever touched you, effectively breaking eye contact. “What are you doing here?” Chan asks, hair still wet from what you assume was a shower.

“Looking for you,” you tell him, following as he starts to walk towards the exit. “I wanted lunch, and you owe me for that time I took your British literature quiz for you.”

Chan groans but agrees to pay, and you laugh, though the world seems a little paler than it did a few moments ago.

The second time you see him is by chance.

(Maybe.)

You’re waiting for a lecture to start, tapping your fingers against your laptop idly as you watch students trickle in last minute. It’s not a strict course, but it does start at nine in the morning, and most everyone shows up with a coffee.

You look down to brush a stray hair off of your table, and when you look up again, the dancer from before walks through the door, then looks right at you.

You feel a blush heat your face and it’s like he wants to make sure that you know that he knows, because he almost refuses to look away. You break eye contact first (like the last time, you remember for no reason) but still watch as his figure moves up the stairs, past the rows, and you hope he’ll just move past you too…

He doesn’t. He takes the empty seat right next to yours, and you don’t say anything, instead finding the peeling sticker on your laptop incredibly interesting. The professor comes in and decides that today he’ll take extra long to set everything up, apparently, and you want to scream.

“So,” the dancer says, voice quiet. It takes your breath away, the way he sounds. “Mind if I ask why you were watching me the other day?”

You cast a glance at him - not too long, you don’t think you could handle more than five seconds tops - and finally open your laptop so it makes you look busy. “I was waiting for a friend.”

“And?”

The smile in his voice is palpable. You’re already exasperated.

“You…” you start, finally deciding to look at him as some sort of subconscious power move. “You’re a beautiful dancer. It was hard not to watch.”

Beautiful doesn’t even cover half of it, but you figure he already thinks you’re weird for watching him, so you hold back the thoughts of youth and vibrancy and color. The dancer looks at you, almost blank for a moment, before a soft smile draws itself on his face. It makes your heart beat a little faster. He says “thank you” with a gentle tone, sincerely felt.

The class starts, and the two of you don’t speak throughout the next hour and a half. You type out notes on your laptop and you see him write down names of the paintings being shown on the projector, little thoughts and notes written afterwards.

By the end of class, your professor assigns an optional partnered project, and you’re more than prepared to head back to your apartment and start on it yourself. The dancer stops you before you leave, however, asks if you’d like to be his partner.

(And he says it like that, would you like to be my partner, polite and somehow sweet.)

You know your answer. “I don’t even know your name,” you stall, standing from your chair.

“Minghao,” he tells you. “I’m Minghao, and I’d like for you to be my partner.”

You say yes easily, put your number into his contacts even easier. The sky is blue when you leave the lecture hall, trees dotted with pink and purple flowers, and it is all so bright that you forget it wasn’t this way in the first place.

The third time you see him is for school.

Underneath the excitement of giving Minghao your number, there is the knowledge that it’s for the sake of an assignment. He texts you the day after to ask if you’re free to meet up to work and you tell him sure.

(Sure is what you send back, but he doesn’t have to know that you burst into Chan’s room immediately after, plunging face first into his bed just to scream into his pillows. Chan had sighed, turned around in his desk chair to look at you, then asked what happened. He gave you two minutes to rant and then kicked you out, back to your own room.)

You and Minghao agreed to meet at the library on a day that neither of you had any afternoon classes, and you get there early, spend some time working on other classes. You have somewhere around thirty minutes to freak out to yourself before you see Minghao come in, dressed like he knows what he’s doing to you (which is really just a hoodie and jeans, but you think it’s the cap that really pulls the whole boyfriend look together), smiling when he finds you at a table in the corner.

“How are you?” is the first thing he says when he sits down, and you pull down your laptop screen a little to see him better.

“I’m good,” you say, feeling your heart pound. “What about you?”

Minghao sends you a kind smile. “Really good. Should we get started?”

You lose count of how many times you see him after that.

Meeting up to work on the project soon becomes just meeting up, and after the project’s done and turned in, it happens even more. You hang out and get lunch, send each other texts and stupid videos, take walks around campus together. The weeks pass, summer mellows into fall, then into the early days of winter. You develop a genuine friendship with him, finding comfort in his presence, looking for him wherever you go.

(Although the crush is still there, potent and patient, stubborn in a way you’ve never experienced before. You wonder if it’s a sign of some sort.)

You’re in one of the practice rooms with him, sitting in the corner. You had a class nearby and he’d wanted to practice a little more, so you told him you’d work on your own stuff while he finished up and then the two of you could grab something to eat.

But you made a small error on your part - the dancing. You’d forgotten the way he moves (you haven’t seen him dance since that first time) and in no time at all you’re letting your screen go dark in front of you and watching him. Honestly, it’s not your fault, you really can’t help it.

But of course he notices.

Minghao meets your eyes through the mirror and raises his eyebrows at you, and all you can do is look away, desperately try to get your laptop up and running again so at least it seems like you weren’t watching him for too long.

“You’re staring,” he says, long after you’ve looked away.

“Sorry,” you tell him anyways, immediate, quick.

Then he says, “I never said anything about stopping.”

In a second, you look up from your laptop and up at him. He moves closer, crouches in front of you. His eyes are kind - they’re never not - but you think you see something a little more in them. “Sorry, I think I missed that last part,” you respond, blinking. Minghao smiles like you’re endearing.

“I said I want you to keep looking at me.”

You think you’re barely breathing when he shuts your laptop for you, slides it off of your lap and onto the floor (gently, with care, and it’s a wonder to you how he can focus on that right now). He practically crawls over you, one of his hands eventually reaching the junction of your jaw and neck and holding there. “I’m gonna kiss you now, if that’s okay,” he says, but doesn’t move. You nod as soon as his words reach your brain, eager and quick.

And the next few hours get a little wound up in your head, a little mixed in with the feeling of his body - that moves so youthfully, with so much vibrancy that it reaches everything around you - melting into yours and the sound of him asking you to tell me what you need, honey, and the still-playing slow jam music he was practicing to.

You watch him sleep next to you, hand curled around yours against his pillows, and think that nothing bad could ever touch him.

The two of you… come together, after that.

Neither you nor Minghao use any proper labels, but you both seem to know. No labels are needed, really. You have each other and that’s all there is to it. And everything is really good.

You work together and laugh together like you’ve always known each other. He tries to teach you to dance with him when you’re in the practice room with him, pulls you up by your hands and guides you through your giggles. He was the first person you called when you realized that you had no idea what you were working towards, didn’t have a clue what you actually wanted to do with your life. He gets along well with your friends and you text his because they’re basically yours, now, too.

Winter turns back into spring, slow and easy. Vibrant and youthful. You’re not able to meet Minghao’s parents, but he meets yours (and you’re sure a quick introduction to his mom over a FaceTime call has to count for something). The two of you take advantage of the newfound warmth of the season and try to get out as much as you’re able to, with picnics and city dates and anything you can think of. A drawer in his dresser is reserved for your things, you bought an extra toothbrush for him to use when he stays over.

You watch him dance. It still feels like the first time, like color and breathlessness. You tell him he’s beautiful every time, feel yourself fall a little deeper when he still gets bashful amidst his comedown. You tell him you love him for the first time after he gets done with a performance - a proper one, for a showcase of the dance club he’s in. He says it back.

You think he put all the stars in the sky just for the two of you to gaze at them together.

Things shift the beginning of your junior year.

Minghao tells you about a program he’s applying to, a proper dance academy in New York that could really kickstart his career. Training under some of the best choreographers and performers in the world.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask him after he tells you, and he shrugs, leaning back in his chair. You’re studying at his apartment tonight.

“It’s just…” he frowns. “It’s so far away, you know?”

Oh. You hadn’t even thought about that, too caught up in the excitement of him being able to apply at all. A quick sigh leaves your lips, and then you reach for his hand, hold it between both of your own.

“That’s okay,” you tell him, though now that you’re thinking about it, you feel nervousness in the pit of your stomach. “We can work something out, though, when we get that far. We’ll figure it out.”

Minghao nods, a fond look in his eyes. He pulls one of your hands to his lips. “We’ll think about it if I even get accepted,” he says.

It’s bittersweet, but a promise nonetheless.

Fifteen minutes after you get a call from Minghao, there’s a knock on your door.

You wouldn’t necessarily say you’re worried, but, well. Everyone’s experienced the jump of anxiety when they get hit with the “I want to talk to you about something” line. Nonetheless, you stand from the couch to open the door, mentally preparing yourself for any and everything.

“Hey,” you greet when you see Minghao, opening the door to let him in. His face is unreadable. “Everything okay?”

He walks a few steps into your apartment, waits for you to close the door before turning back around to face you. Then he holds up a piece of paper, the creases from where it was folded still bending. You send him a confused look.

“I got in,” he says, a grin breaking on his face, and you blink, then feel your jaw practically hit the floor. Minghao only nods like he understands, and before you know what you’re doing, you launch yourself at him, holding him close.

“Oh my god, Hao, that’s amazing,” you say into his sweater, then step back to get a proper look at him. Youthful, vibrant. “I’m so proud of you.”

He seems to soften at your words, pulls you back into him again with a gentle kiss to your head. “Thank you for believing in me,” he tells you, tenderness palpable in his voice. All you can do is squeeze him tighter.

Minghao spends a lot of time away from you after that.

You’re not really hurt in any way - even though he got into the academy in New York, he still has to practice. You get it, this is important. He doesn’t text you as often, isn’t able to stop by as much, and you miss him, but you know how much this means for him. But it gets… weird, almost, after a while. Strange, even for him. It feels weird that he’s set to leave at the end of January and it’s December and he’s distant.

Both of you are laying in your bed, looking at the glow-in-the-dark stars on your ceiling, when you decide to bring it up. “You’ve been… kinda far away lately,” you start, nudging him with your shoulder gently. “Everything okay?”

His eyes stay on your ceiling, but you feel the way he sighs. “It’s about the program,” he says.

“Okay.”

“And about… you and me.”

Oh. That doesn’t… sound the best. “About, like… what we’re gonna do?”

Minghao nods.

You say, “I wouldn’t mind visiting every so often. It’d be hard, but I’m sure we could find something to work.”

Minghao shakes his head, says, “no.”

You pause, and when you look at him he’s already looking at you. What does he mean by no? Does he want you to move with him? Or does he -

He reaches for your hand and you think oh.

His eyes are a little glassy. You feel the tears come, too.

“Oh,” you say out loud. Minghao squeezes your hand. “So this is… this is it?”

Your room is suddenly cold, and you want to crawl under the covers and stay there. The person in front of you is blurred into something unrecognizable, but you can’t be bothered to blink away your tears.

“I think so, love,” he whispers back to you. “I think it has to be.”

The two of you cry like that for a while. In your bed, loosely intertwined and broken. Even the way Minghao cries carries a kind of vibrancy that’s overwhelming, makes you think of the first time you saw him so long ago, and now -

When you manage to get a better grip on yourself, you ask him if you can still see him off at the airport. He says, “I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.”

Then you ask if you can kiss him again. He responds by kissing you first.

And it’s sad, it tastes like salt and sorrow and you feel like the promises you never got the chance to make are broken. It feels like the most beautiful blue you’ve ever seen, and you know it’s only a branch of Minghao’s color.

He leaves soon after that, pulls on his shoes and his coat and turns around at the door to give you a tired smile. After he’s gone, you drag yourself to Chan’s bedroom, and once he sees the state you’re in, he offers up one side of his bed. Neither of you say anything, but the friendly reassurance of his hand in yours says enough.

You don’t fail to notice that everything seems to be washed out, a blandness you’re not used to.

The last time you see him is at the airport.

It’s a cold day, despite being sunny. The airport offers little warmth, but you figure it doesn’t matter. You won’t be here for long.

It doesn’t take you very long to find Minghao - you still look for him wherever you go, even if you’re not looking for him. Even then, it’s still so easy for you to find him, to pinpoint that vibrancy, that youth. He’s talking to a few others, you think you met them. Soonyoung and Jun.

Minghao meets your eyes and you freeze, but then he waves you over with a gentle smile. You follow like you think you always will.

You greet Soonyoung and Jun and the four of you talk, albeit a little awkwardly, even when Soonyoung tries his hardest to lighten the mood. Eventually he has to leave, and Jun follows with a shy goodbye. They both hug Minghao before they go.

You’re not sure what to say, but after a minute, you find words. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you,” you tell him, a little selfishly.

Minghao says, “you’ll do good. I know you will. I’m not worried about you.”

He pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time, and you think he’ll give you a stiff and sad goodbye, but he steps a little closer to you. Looks at you the way he used to.

“Maybe…” he starts, then pauses. “Maybe we’ll meet again.”

Maybe, you think. Maybe.

“I hope so,” you tell him, then watch as he leaves.

#caratwritersclub #kdiner #kpopscape #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt imagine #seventeen imagine #the8 x reader #the8 imagine #svt the8 x reader #seventeen the8 x reader #svt the8 imagine #xu minghao x reader #xu minghao imagine #svt minghao x reader #seventeen minghao x reader #minghao x reader #minghao imagine #pieces of you

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chatonyant · 2 years

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Doot comics for yet another group of isekai kids that..... I really need to find a name for....

Sal: red

Quill: blue

Pom: black hair

(And the badly drawn dude in the first panel of the first comic is a friend's oc Cross)

First comic's dialogue is from a Tumblr post I believe? Second is my own dialogue.

Story introduction underneath! (Warning, it's long)

The premise is that Sal (red) was dropped into this world that they know as a game for the sake of helping the world get past the bad ending its been stuck on

The game is kind of a romance action fantasy with different routes that all end in tragedy (but the more I developed it the less,,,, romance-y it got)

This story was my own idea but my friends got involved and so it became a group project and they made different characters that Sal meet

The game has two options to play as, Quiv, the female protagonist, or Pom(black hair), the male protagonist. Sal is possessing Quiv's body but Quiv is still there as some sort of voice ghost in Sal's mind who can also vaguely feel each other's emotions. The world has been in a sort of time loop in an attempt to breach this bad ending and Quiv remembers some of the previous loop and works with Sal to make plans and be Sal's guide.

Sal is nonbinary and aroace so whenever "love interests" approach them they just smack them down

Quill (silver hair) is the flirty "love interest" who likes sleeping around and also has a secret curse. He can see the souls of people and so is one of the few people who realize early on that Sal isn't just Quiv transitioning, Sal's a whole different person. His ability to see souls only occurs when he sees the eyes of the other person, but usually avoids doing it via covering eyes or avoiding eye contact, as seeing souls can be disorienting and chaotic. But looking at Sal isn't as bad because he can see Quiv and Quiv is just. Hilarious to look at. She's really gotten into the habit of acting super weird cause she's a little dramatic and also kinda bored with nothing she can physically do.

Quill is also on the aroace spectrum but hadn't really figured it out. So within the game it's very much "I have feelings... for you" "I also have feelings for you" (the feeling was friendship)

Sal is like a whirlwind that makes everyone question themselves a little so once Quill kind of realizes "yeah I don't do romance huh", they make flirty jokes all the time

Have I mentioned he's a shapeshifting mage? Theyre my special little boy

Funnily enough Sal is not very smiley, contrary to what these two comics have. They're mostly a depressed, traumatized, guilt-ridden, and really stressed (for... a variety of reasons) person who makes too many plans in case other plans fail. They make plans for everything: where to go, what tools to get, what interactions they need to have, what to say to people-- They're good at planning but not at being social so that's where Quiv helps.

Pom is a really sweet guy who's a little like a mix of Sal and Quiv: he's good at leading people and supporting them, but he's a bit of an awkward guy who isn't sure how to socialize. In the previous time loop, he and Quiv were a Thing but once again, everything ended in tragedy before they did much beyond confessing, and Pom doesn't remember any of it.

Pom is a gentle giant who's greatly praised for his strength and leadership, but occasionally he can be mischievous and whisper silly jokes to Sal. (They bond over awkward social interactions)

While there are a good handful of other characters, both mine and my friends', Sal, Quill, and Pom (and Quiv) are the closest to each other. Pom and Sal are the leaders who try to meticulously plan for everything and Quill is the one to tug them back and reminding them to take a break and relax. Quill would try to sit on them to get them to lay down for once but.... even if he's a tall dude they're still pretty scrawny and Pom (a half tiger beastman who's also a swordsman) and Sal (quarter tiger and also archer) are pretty buff and can easily throw him. Sorry Quill, looks like you'll have to pin them down with magic instead.

#alp art #alp ocs #art #oc #drawing #csp #comic #doodle #alp sal #oopsies it got long again

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solarishashernoseinabook · 2 years

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do you describe a character’s appearance all right away or in pieces?

thanks for all the asks! I'll combine them into one long answer for ya :3

1. do you know how you want the story to end when you start, or are you just stumbling through the figurative wilderness hoping to find a road? I like to have a vague idea of where it ends at least! I planned The Treewalkers out chapter by chapter and I'm doing the same with its sequel, but otherwise I like to keep the middle flexible so I can rearrange or add or delete things as needed. There's been some one shots where I don't know the ending before writing, tho

3. on a scale of 1-10 how much do you enjoy incorporating romance into the average story? Depends on if I set out to include romance in it. Unless I start from the beginning with the express purpose of putting romance in a story I typically won't. When I do add romance, tho, I tend to enjoy some established romances bc it's fun writing characters being tender with each other. So maybe a 7 or 8?

of course, if you ask fans of The Royal Ranger, that number would be -5 bc there's been almost zero romance in it so far slghlgh

5. have you ever made a playlist about something you were writing as an elaborate means to procrastinate when you could have been actually writing and if yes drop a link, son I have not actually! I tend not to associate music with characters or projects because my brain doesn't interpret music in any specific way, it's just kinda there. I'll often turn on instrumental music if I need to write (or at least music that's not in English) so I don't get distracted by words, tho

9. in an ideal world where you’re already super successful and published, would you want to see a tv or movie adaptation of your work? why or why not? A TV adaptation might be interesting, because it could develop things better with a longer runtime than a movie would. But with the state of the movie/TV industry at the moment I'm not sure how well it would turn out, it seems like everything is all-or-nothing in terms of whether or not it's considered a success and everything gets extended past when it should in the interest of making more sequels so I don't think I'd want that any time soon lol

16. where is your favourite place to write? I love writing outside, but ultimately as long as I have some natural light I'm good :D

38. how many stories do you work on at one time? Thaaaaaat depends! If it's one shots I'll work on one at a time. Now that I've got two massive canon rewrites on the go, tho, I work on alternating chapters of them. But if I get a one shot idea I'll typically write that before working more on my multi-chaps because I can get it done quicker

39. are you an avid reader? Yup!! I've been making a conscious effort to get back into it lately and it's been super relaxing

41. what is the weirdest story idea you’ve ever had. Either the Ranger's Apprentice log driver AU or librarian AU 🤔

51. share the synopsis of a story you work on that you haven’t published yet Halt goes back to Clonmel with Will and Horace to see Sean, and meets Sean's wife and daughter. But this won't be a simple family reunion, because there's trouble in Clonmel that threatens the throne...

58. what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were writing it? I googled where pike lived for one of my fics! Other than that I'm very regularly googling Irish names or words for things, but I can't remember which of those I did more recently slhgg

64. what is your favourite title for a fic you’ve written? I'm quite partial to The Royal Ranger, but that's cheating slightly - in the Ranger's Apprentice fandom, the book The Royal Ranger (book 12) is quite divisive with a lot of people really hating it or disliking how it handled certain things, so when I decided to write a fic that the title technically worked for I just went with it lmao. As for original titles, I like The Ward Ghost - it was hard to come up with and I thought up and discarded several titles before settling on it

73. how do you visualise scenes? do you see it like a movie in your head, or do the words just flow? Thaaaaat also depends! Sometimes I'll get a very clear image of something in my head, but often the faces of characters in the scene are blurry (I suspect I'm mildly faceblind). Often it'll be like witnessing something while a narrator explains what's going on. For most of my life that was how I interacted with the world - going about daily tasks, but narrating in my head as though it was a book - so my writing is just kinda an extension of that

80. do you try to put themes, motifs, messages, morals, etc in your writing? if so, how do you go about it? Hmmm sorta? I've mostly been doing it with The Royal Ranger, through Halt being autistic. The recurring message regarding him - or, well, regarding characters who interact with him - is that the good characters accommodate and make efforts to understand him, while the bad ones brush off his difficulties and make him mask heavily. I show this with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer (i.e. Halt is shown to be unhappy when forced to mask and happy/relaxed when he can be himself). I don't pay much attention to any morals or themes or anything but if anyone has noticed any, I'd like to hear about what you took away from my works :3

95. do you describe a character’s appearance all right away or in pieces? Mostly right away! Sometimes I'll give a basic description early on and then flesh it out a ta time when it flows better in the story, tho

Link to the ask game if you want to play!

#asks #ask games #fic writer ask game #thanks for all the questions!!#tumblr crashed the first time I tried to post this ToT

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mysticalmusicwhispers · 3 years

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#i wonder what your thoughts on diaspora in hetalia are#cause its a pretty interesting topic (the post in question)

@urmomsstuntdouble a collection of things that I think about on a semi-regular basis below the cut (also thank you for the tags!)

Disclaimer: I think this turned into more of a discussion of immigration and immigrants, but I hope this strikes your fancy anyways 😅. Also this got SO LONG and I explained quite a bit of history (because idk whether anyone knows much about this), so the key thoughts will be bolded!

My thoughts are kinda complicated about this tbh; it’s weird, because if China really did exist as a personification in real life, we’d probably both be judging each other, just for different reasons 😅.

General Hetalia Cases

I think when discussing immigrants/diaspora, you have to think about why different immigrants left. @cupofkey kinda discussed that a while ago (if anyone hasn’t seen this superb post, GO READ IT NOW) about the Vietnamese diaspora, and I think there’s some of that in every country. How do the immigrants feel about the home country? Why did they leave: because of hard times, poverty? Political instability/revolution/war? Opportunities overseas? Are they doing well in their new home, or still struggling? Does their new country treat them like foreigners or outcasts, unworthy of even arriving, or doing anything besides menial labor, or have they been welcomed (rather unlikely)? Do they hate their home country (politically), or miss them? Would they ever go back, not just to visit family or the place of their birth, but to return permanently?

I think on the whole, hetalia nations would still maintain a connection to their immigrants, especially since most are still in touch with their culture, although they’ve crossed borders or changed nationalities. (However, the angst of not being as in touch with your culture as you think you should is so real; would our home countries be disappointed? Or do they sympathize, somehow?) In the end, we’re all the same that way. Plus, the alternative thought of them just disowning immigrants feels weird; I don’t even know how that would be possible. But I think that connection gets complicated by the reason people left, and their feelings for their place of origin; I’ll be using APH China and Chinese Americans as an example to discuss this hksdgsdf (sorry I don’t want to do more research than necessary and I have Thoughts about this)

**OBLIGATORY DISCLAIMER that immigration/diaspora discussions are almost always case by case and will vary greatly based on things like country of origin/race/ethnicity, country immigrated to, initial socioeconomic status, time period, etc. And even among diaspora, people can and will have vastly different experiences, and it’s not good to generalize. These are just some thoughts with one example.**

1. Waves of Immigration

Depending on when people arrive, they’ve got different push/pull factors drawing them to a country and it also factors into how the nation feels about them and vice versa... Chinese immigration to the US has mostly two major waves (you could also say there were 3, counting the post-WWII/Communist China wave, but I won’t talk about that): one in the mid 1800s and the other after the 1970s/1980s into modern day; the gap is because the Chinese Exclusion Act (1882) that banned most immigration from China wasn’t repealed until 1943 (because of Japan’s attack on the US in WWII, the US needed China as an ally).

IMMIGRATION WAVE 1: MID 1800s

These immigrants were mostly from southern China (Canton area), and they came to the US because of hard times (Opium Wars + political instability because of things like the Taiping Rebellion) and economic opportunity in the West (eg. Gold Rush (San Francisco is literally “Old Gold Mountain” in Chinese today) + industrialization, railroads, expansion etc.). There was Much Discrimination against those immigrants, and many worked as hard laborers in a variety of occupations (on railroads, gold mine, farms (in the South esp), laundry businesses; there were merchants as well, but they were the minority); many were looking to get some money that they could send back to their families in China and planned to return, but over time, they settled down and stayed. I think for those immigrants, Yao would definitely be understanding, even if he might not be empathetic. After all, he’s not thriving at that time either, and although he thinks Alfred is inferior to him (in many ways), he understands why people would be drawn by economic promise and quick wealth, even if it might not be the best strategy for getting rich. It’s not like staying in China would be better lmao. However, I don’t think he would approve (?) how many of his immigrants stayed in the US when most viewed it as a temporary move; I think Yao is very surprised by how so many of them persisted to carve out a home there, despite the discrimination and limited opportunities. Perhaps he admires their resilience, the creation of Chinatowns and community and how they still come to a country that doesn’t even let them in (see the San Francisco Fire of 1906 and the boon for paper sons), but still wishes they would come back, however unlikely that hope is. Personally, Yao would never be able to stay in Alfred’s country, the beautiful country, if Alfred’s hypocrisy prevented his experience, his immigrant’s experience, from being anything close to beautiful. (You were founded by immigrants and foreigners, but now you spurn them: the poor sojourners who continue to flee to your shores, and refuse them respite from the disasters at home.) And anyways, Alfred is just the next scrappy young upstart, barely 70 years old but with a swagger like he rules the world; how could he have something over himself, the Middle Kingdom, who has stood the test of time? (Admittedly, he’s doing nowhere as well as Alfred—even he can see that, despite his pride, and despite the haze of opium in his brain. Leaving is the logical, objectively sound choice. Still, his pride hurts vaguely when he thinks how his immigrants keep choosing a country that keeps rejecting them, over and over again, instead of himself. But it is no matter. The injury to his ego is inconsequential and easily brushed aside; for they are still his people, and they deserve a good life, wherever they are. His distaste for Alfred flares up again: Arthur’s bastard child, who takes advantage of his trade (see the Open Door Notes, 1899-1900), but refuses his people.)

if anyone wants more context or is interested in the history I mentioned, I highly recommend this pdf (from the book A Different Mirror: A History of Multicultural America by Ronald Takaki)

IMMIGRATION FROM 1949 TO 1980: according to Wikipedia, there was very little immigration from mainland China during this period due to the Cold War and China becoming Communist; most of the immigration was from Taiwan/ROC but counted in the quota for China. Since there’s a separate Hetalia personification for TWN, I’m not going to go over that. However, there were also many people from Mainland China who escaped to Hong Kong, still a British colony, during that period (I hope it’s clear why, but if anyone asks I’ll put it in a separate post); some stayed there, while others emigrated to the US; both trips were for more freedoms and a better life etc because China was really really messed up for a bit (also keep in mind the people emigrating all had the means to and were at least middle class, usually somewhat educated, etc.). I will not be talking about that group either because I don’t think it’s my place to, but please know they exist as well.

IMMIGRANT WAVE 2: 1980s ONWARD

A lot of people came from mainland China for education; there was also an. exodus of intellectuals following 1989 (which I Will Not get into). Many of these people sought job opportunities, like those that rapidly opened up in the computer industry, there are many students who come here to study abroad, who take SATs and TOEFLs to get into good US colleges or to conduct graduate research and get PhDs; some stay, others have gone back to like, advance China’s development (this sentiment of getting good students to go abroad and then go back to China to use their talents for Patriotic Purposes isn’t a new thing, stretches back to like the late 1800s). I don’t really have much to say about this group besides what’s below ↓.

2. Immigrant Thoughts On Their Home Country

more complicated, because it varies by generation and time period and probably 203943 other things. Mainlanders that came over starting in the 1990s till now have relatively positive feelings towards China (imo, extrapolating from my life experiences); I think part of that is also because most* of these immigrants aren’t really escaping from something? They’re coming for an education/job opportunities (students studying abroad in the US (留学生 or liuxuesheng) for graduate school or university come to mind as one example), and they’re still very much connected to China politically and culturally, sometimes* more so than to the US. For these immigrants, I think Yao doesn’t worry too much about them? They’re pretty successful* overall*, and discrimination, although still A Large Problem™, isn’t the same from stuff that Yao (or his immigrants) remember from, say the mid 1800s (see above), or even during the paranoia about Communists after WWII and the subsequent Chinese Confession Program that made many people really scared of being deported. (Red China made Chinese Americans a target of the Communist panic, and the confession program was instated in order to make sure Communist spies couldn’t infiltrate the US. Those who immigrated illegally could confess that and gain citizenship; however you also had to weed out everyone you knew who also immigrated illegally.) I think Yao would see them as an extension of himself in a different land; they’re very much still part of him, and he gives them his well wishes.

However, I think that immigrants born in the US in modern day at least (1990s onwards) are definitely more ambivalent about China’s legacy + modern day Issues™, as much as we are connected via culture and heritage. Not quite sure how Yao would feel about that, because I’m not quite sure how much Yao is the state and how much he represents the people. However, I think there would be some mutual unease; does he see this as betrayal of some kind? Perhaps he doesn’t blame us for feeling as we do? Maybe he wonders what we feel about him; maybe he doesn’t want to know. Maybe he chooses the easier route: to focus on the bonds between him and his huayi instead of the grievances, and leave the rest unsaid.

Additionally with first gen immigrants, there’s the conflicting feeling of being stuck between two worlds and value systems that oppose each other in many respects. Also there’s sometimes a feeling of not-quite-being-in-touch-with-your-culture (in other diaspora as well, ofc. here it’s often exemplified by forgetting or not knowing how to read and write Chinese proficiently, among other things 🙃); idk. does Yao see that as a bit of a disappointment? Would he wish us to try harder? Does he view it as inevitable, for those raised in the US; the environment is too different, and perhaps he won’t blame us for those differences, or shortcomings. Does Yao know, or care, about the racism? What about his immigrants who try to assimilate completely into American culture, who try to erase the Chinese part of their identity? Those that have tried it, but regretted it? Are they still his, when they have tried rejecting their connection to him, choosing to drop the “Chinese” from Chinese American? Does he consider racism when thinking about them? What about international adoptees? Does he claim them, when some have not been raised in a culturally Chinese environment, and when it’s still a sensitive subject on both sides of the ocean? I don’t have answers to many of these questions.

There are also immigrants who fled China because of war or persecution or upheaval, (one example is with regards to the Cultural Revolution), but I don’t feel qualified to discuss it here, and I don’t want to take it lightly.

But, despite everything I’ve discussed above, I’d like to think that however an immigrant feels about their home country or however long they’ve been there, all nation personifications would still wish them a better life (even Yao). I mean, it’s not always easy being an immigrant/part of a diaspora (especially when race becomes a factor). I really don’t think any of the hetalia characters would say “look at your struggles. What a mistake it was to immigrate somewhere where you still face so many challenges, although they might be different from the ones back home”. that’s just No. Also, I think that when you disregard sentimentality and their inherent connection to the people, countries would still be able to sympathize with people trying to strive for better, you know? People immigrate for a better life, whether it’s because it was getting rough when they left or because other places had more potential, and like. although nation-people can’t leave their own country, I think they understand the people who do, because it’s a chance to make a new life, and it would be unkind, counterproductive, limiting, to prevent someone from taking that opportunity if it came. And their children, and grandchildren; they are still connected to their origins even in a new country, by blood if nothing else, and nations are people too; they must have some sentimentality for their people born in a different land. I’d like to think that if Yao met a Chinese American kid running around San Francisco’s Chinatown, or bumped into an ABC high schooler in a well to do Massachusetts suburb, he’d stop and nod and maybe say hello, and wish them luck, wherever they go in the future. After all, they are the products of his immigrant’s hopes and dreams, and they are his too, as much as they live in Alfred’s land.

* (asterisks): this is a) from my experience and research; not everyone will have the same experiences! please keep this in mind and don’t generalize a very vast group of people. :)

Idk if that was too sentimental or rambly or something, but yeah, those are some of the things I consider when I think about nations and their diasporas. If you made it down here, thanks for reading! I greatly appreciate it. Also I hope I got all my facts correct, but if anyone spots anything incorrect, especially regarding the post 1980s immigration wave, please tell me! Tried doing my research but there are still a few things I’m unsure about rip.

This might be deleted tomorrow because I’m feeling weird about it, but feel free to reblog! I’d also very much love some feedback too if any of y’all are feeling up to it

#i was thinking about a lot of this when writing the zine fic so this post is partially an extension of that #hws china #aph china #musings #hetalia #nation lore #hws #aph #aph china headcanons #hetalia worldbuilding #headcanon musings #hetalia headcanons #I GUESS??

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