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vaseoflilies · 8 months ago

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Elysian Fields Chapter 2: Forget It

warning: nothing too intense a/n: this is cross posted on AO3 if you're interested!!

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This time, you awoke screaming.

Your leg felt like it was on fire, and while your mind was clearer, your body ached. The sight of your pale, tear-stained face in the large mirror in front of you scared you. Where were you? What happened? Why did everything hurt? Should you try to leave? No, you needed to leave.

Nothing in the room stood out except for the expensive-looking shoji doors and the IV stand, from which two bags of saline were hanging. The floor appeared to be hardwood, but there were a few red stains near the entrance. As you looked around, the doors slid open. You haphazardly grabbed your thigh in pain, making whimpering noises so pathetic that you couldn’t believe they were coming from you.

You felt a wave of fear when a person walked in - a diminutive woman wearing a familiar blue kimono. “I’m not going to hurt you,” she muttered, her voice as soft as a whisper. She gently closed the doors behind her and approached your side. “You’re safe. Everything is okay. Do you remember what happened?”

Her words brought a slight calm over you. However, your leg didn’t share the sentiment. “Fuck,” you groaned, clawing at the blanket with your newly manicured nails. When did that happen? “Why is it burning so badly?”

Her eyebrows rose, and she quickly moved to remove the blanket covering your leg. “My apologies,” she said, bowing slightly as she began to readjust your bandages. “The doctor tied them quite tight when she changed them earlier. How does it feel now?”

The pain decreased dramatically. “Thank you,” you managed to cough out, prompting her to bring a glass of water from the bedside to your lips. “Who are you? Where am I?”

She gave you a soft smile and gently brushed the wisps of hair from your face. Oddly enough, you let her. “You’re safe,” she reassured you. She helped you sit up slightly and took the braid out of your hair. You eyed her carefully in the mirror. “You have been rescued and are now in the hospital. I am your nurse, Jun.”

Rescued? Surprisingly, you couldn’t recall much about how you ended up here in the first place. “What happened?” Your brow furrowed as you contemplated the situation and examined your leg. “I was injured, wasn’t I?”

You only had a vague sense of your identity.

You could still remember your family, your childhood village, and your name. A few familiar faces caught your eye, but you couldn’t associate them with their names. You remembered the sensation of mud in the rain and a burning rage. There was a flash of memory of you waking up for the first time and slapping Jun’s hand away. Beyond that, you were lost.

“Yes,” she slowly nodded, finishing the braid. “You’re very lucky to be alive right now.”

Taking a sharp breath, you said, “Just give it to me straight.” You crossed your hands on your lap, bracing yourself for the worst. “Tell me what happened.”

She moved to the corner of the room, where a large brass bell sat. “That’s not my place,” she said, picking up the bell and ringing it. You winced at the loud sound. “I’m just your nurse.”

Shortly after, an elderly woman with flecks of gray hair appeared. She was dressed in a considerably lighter kimono that bordered on being almost greenish-blue. Her obi was exquisite, featuring floral stitches and cream-colored silk. Despite her beautiful clothing, the woman entered the room with a sour expression, as if she had just eaten something rotten.

“This better be important,” she said to Jun, who bowed and apologized for the interruption. “Ah.”

Her eyes met yours, and she offered a small smile. However, the way her lips moved suggested that it wasn’t genuine, which made you wonder what was wrong. “You’re not planning to remove your IV and dash down the halls, are you?”

Her words helped you piece together some details from the first time you woke up. Nothing hurt except for the itch from the IV, but you remembered feeling almost paralyzed with fear. What had terrified you? Talking to Jun had helped alleviate your fear because she was gentle and seemed trustworthy. But remembering how you felt and not being able to recall why made the fear creep back up like a vine.

“No,” you sighed, lost in thought. “I felt like I was dreaming; I was so out of it. Yet, there was this piercing fear that told me to run.”

With pity in her eyes, Jun took your hand in hers. The woman, who you assumed to be the doctor, pursed her lips and wore a skeptical expression. “Fear, huh?” She adjusted your IV stand and moved over to your wounded thigh. “You may call me Dr. Isha. Now, tell me, what do you remember?”

You winced as she began unwrapping your bandages. You shared your name, your age, and basic details of your life before pausing. “I had to go somewhere, I think. Somewhere important. Somewhere that took me a long time by foot.”

You gasped slightly upon seeing your bandages undone, revealing a large gash running from your knee to your inner thigh. Stitches were woven between the cuts, molding the flesh together. A good part of it had already healed, but a section on the inner thigh looked fresher. “During your fun rendezvous, you broke the stitches,” she grumbled as she took out a thick gel and applied it to the wounds. “You’ve certainly been an interesting patient.”

Jun gave your hand a tighter squeeze at her words. For whatever reason, you liked Jun. Her presence was comforting. Though, in the back of your mind, you felt bad about swatting her hand away in the cafeteria. You made a mental note to apologize later. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she said as she got out a bandage and began rewrapping your leg. “It’s my fault for not having someone watch you around the clock.”

“Is everything okay, sensei?” Jun asked, choosing her words carefully. “I’ve been practicing in the clinic. If you need me to, I can take it from here.”

“Nonsense,” Dr. Isha began, her tone tense. “My personal feelings will not interfere with my work, understand?”

“Yes, sensei.”

The room was unusually quiet as she worked, except for your winces and slight moans of pain as she tightened the bandages. Why was Dr. Isha so tense with you? What else had you done that made her dislike you? “Did Jun make you aware of your injuries?”

You shook your head as she tied the last bandage.

“You cut your femoral artery and struck your head,” she stated rather bluntly. “You were attacked by a bear in the forest. No wonder you were scared.”

You were not expecting that.

Attacked by a bear? That explains the debilitating fear. But why does it linger? Does it have to do with the injury? Jun gave the doctor a stern look before handing you another glass of water. “What she means to say is that you are very lucky to be alive and we are glad you are here with us today.”

Dr. Isha raised her eyebrows mockingly. “To be blunt, you have been in a coma for several months.” Jun patted you on the back as you choked on the water. “We do not have all of the technology in this hospital, so your case was difficult to manage. You awoke occasionally, if only for a few minutes, aggressive and unable to understand what others were saying.”

You remained silent. What could you even say to that? Jun seemed to understand and rubbed your back soothingly. Just how much have you let yourself go through?

“Where is this hospital anyway?” You attempted to sit more upright, your leg aching. “What area are we in?”

Dr. Isha moved to the IV stand again and began taking your vitals as Jun spoke. “You’re in Paradise now,” she said, giving you a big, dimpled smile. “I think you will be happy here.”

Paradise? You didn’t remember if that was on a map or not. “Is that near Okinawa?”

Dr. Isha laughed loudly as she removed the IV from your arm and applied a bandage. You let out a slight hiss. “We are in the mountains, but do not worry; Paradise can be found even in the harshest climate.”

She smiled sincerely this time, which you found unsettling. “What do you mean?” As she finished checking your vitals and removing your IV, you gently stretched your arms. You felt better, if not hungry. “Are we in…”

“No, we are in Aokigahara.”

“The forest region?” You questioned, your eyebrows raised. That was a rather dangerous forest, if memory serves.

“Yes, Lord Douma experiences the strongest spiritual connection in this region,” she said, her voice higher-pitched than usual and her features softening. Was she blushing? “Since Lord Douma personally saved you, you have been accepted as a new member; normally, we do not accept new members during the summer.”

Jun helped you sit completely upright, to which she praised you for your strength even though you’d been comatose. “I’m sorry but I need to go.” Dr. Isha’s face fell at your words. “I feel like there is something crucial waiting for me at home…” You trailed off.

You couldn’t remember what it was.

What was so important that it had you traveling? What did you forget? “I understand, but you are still recovering,” Dr. Isha began, as she wrapped up the trash and discarded it in the bin underneath your bedside table. “Our founder will be arriving shortly. Jun, I expect this place to be tidy and the guest to be dressed before our arrival. Take care.”

As Dr. Isha’s words echoed in the room, you were left alone with Jun. Her comforting presence was a stark contrast to the cold, clinical demeanor of the doctor. However, you weren’t upset with the doctor. A part of you empathized with her. After all, if you were a doctor, you wouldn’t even know the first thing to do about someone ripping out their IV and wandering through the hall. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder, what else had made her seem angry with you?

“Jun?” you began, watching the petite woman busily organizing medical equipment. “Why doesn’t Dr. Isha seem to like me very much?”

She stood up, made eye contact, and continued her work before responding. “Dr. Isha has been here the longest out of everyone,” she explained, grabbing some glass cleaner and beginning to clean the already spotless mirror. “She was Lord Douma’s advisor for many years until your arrival. She was demoted a few days after you caused that scene in the cafeteria.” Her words hung in the air, adding a new layer of complexity to your situation.

Wow. Another thing you did not expect. You’d always been known for being a bit difficult to care for, but thinking back, who was it that told you that in the first place? A voice hidden in the mist of your mind spoke, “Even when injured, you and your brother are still as difficult as always.” The voice echoed in your mind—a ghost from the past. It was familiar, yet distant. You racked your brain, trying to place the voice, but it was like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands.

You perked up. Whose voice was that? What memory was that from? You saw fields of sunflowers and hyottoko masks and smelled the familiar scent of something burning. What was this?

“Jun,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper as you placed your head in your hands. “What’s wrong with my head? Small fragments of memories come back to me, but I can’t piece them all together.”

Having finished with the cleaning, Jun moved closer. “Memory is a tricky, funny thing,” she said softly. “You were injured; please remember that. I wish we knew everything we possibly could, but Dr. Isha believes your memories will return with time. Won’t you stay so we can help?”

She had a point.

Logically, you knew wandering about in the middle of the forest, especially in your current condition, was not the wisest decision. You were certain you were familiar with forests, but you didn’t know if you’d ever been to Aokigahara. Being lost while wounded sounded far worse than being cared for, hydrated, clothed, and fed.

“Alright,” you finally conceded, sinking back into the bed. “I’ll stay… for now. But you do need to explain what being a member means.” Jun’s face lit up at your words, and for the first time since you woke up, you felt a small sense of relief for making a decision.

This was the right one. Right?

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danphantom · 1 year ago

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oh hey i wanna talk abt smth thats been on my mind both lately and on and off for a while in general. sorry this ended up being a hella long post lol. but i have a lot to say

so...for context, ive been in the phandom for 10 years--since 2014--though it has admittedly been on and off in terms of engagement from me. in 2017 i got into dragon ball and all but dropped danny phantom completely with a few small drawings here and there. it was only like..within the past week that i actually got back into the phandom legitimately again, actively making art and posts about it and engaging with the source material and etc

anyway, i was obsessed with dp from 2014-late 2017 (until i got into dbz). i made lots and lots of fanart, played the gba games like all the damn time (i got to where i could speedrun tue lol), rewatched the show regularly...i was even one of those fans that bought obscure merch and learned useless trivia that ive since forgotten. in 2015 a lot of you may remember that i made @doppelgangercomic, a comic about an au i had where dan got a redemption arc (albeit a bumpy one) and future vlad was there and stuff happened (go read the comic LOL). it got a LOT of love and traction! it made me really happy to see all the positivity around my work like that :) i actually got a lot of positive responses towards my work in general. i had a really great time in the phandom back then

then i changed fandoms and kinda fell out of the phandom space. after being on a hiatus from the phandom until literally a week ago, i honestly have to say ive felt like i kind of...faded into obscurity in the phandom's eyes? basically i feel like old news. people dont generally know what doppelganger is now. they may have seen my art in passing here and there but they dont know who i am anymore. i think the only place people actively still find my old danny phantom art from when i was heavily active is...deviantart lol. i get notifications from favorites literally every day there. but uh anyway--im not saying this to garner pity or tell a sob story or anything! im just expressing some thoughts and feelings ive had for a long time lol.

the reason i bring this ^ up though, is because like...i know its not true? logically, i know that i DID make an impact in the fandom i loved/love so so much. i left my mark on both the fandom in an artistic sense, and also the people in the fandom, and sometimes i forget that because i get significantly less engagement on my posts than i used to. but i know that doesnt mean that people dont like my stuff anymore, or that ive been forgotten.

i actually got a message from someone today--a friend i made kinda recently who approached me bc they liked doppelganger actually. they told me that basically its surreal to them that theyre talking to me as a friend because they remember reading doppelganger when they were younger and looking up to me because of it. and it really reminded me of what i said previously--ive not been forgotten, and people still do appreciate and love what ive put out into the world (specifically about danny phantom in this case). ive made an impact on people's lives even when i dont realize it or see it physically. the message and sentiment made me feel really really good and nice and happy and honestly relieved, because the phandom and danny phantom as a media has been an extremely important and impactful part of my life ever since i got into it ten years ago. i literally changed my name to dan because of it lol. it was the reason i found stephen silver's work and went down that path of my art journey. its the reason i found so many amazing people and friends and artists and continue to do that even now. i owe a lot to danny phantom and the phandom as a whole, and i try to give back in the only ways i know how--mainly thru showing my passion through my art and posts.

anyway erm. yeah. all of this to say i wanted to thank yall--the phandom--for supporting me all this time, whether youve been with me from the beginning or if youre just joining me recently. youve been an absolute delight in my life and i know youll continue to be for a long time. :)

#this post sounds like im leaving the phandom i promise thats not what this is LOL #im just bein a little sentimental is all..wah

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hjeojeo · 10 months ago

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1, 8, 38?

Gonna roughly try to copy over each question cause im on my phone and im too lazy to try to go copy and paste

1. Three important things that shaped who i am

I think the ones that come up in my head immediately is abusive childhood, my partner, and art (but also internet,but related to art)

Im still working through a lot of the issues left by my abusive childhood. It is something that feels heavily seared into me and now im doing by best to help it heal into healthy scars and not rot into everything about myself like necrosis. It's just how it feels.

My partner helped me get away from my family, and i learned a lot from being with them. Including how harmful it was to put someone on a pedestal, that did so much damage to my partner's mental health. I made so much progresd with my mental health thanks to them. We would talk through a lot of stuff together to make sense of my head. It felt absolutely impossible back then, but we kept at it and now so many things make sense and I know how to work with myself now, and that's like the best thing ever in the world to me.

And art/internet was a massive escape while i lived with my family. And then i had a rough in-between transition point of i had only known art as an escape, but now that ive truly escaped my nightmare environment what is art now. I feel that in the last like 2 ish years is my better point with art where a new passion was made with art. Art's communication to me now, i can try to digest the wonderful things i see in life and nature, but also try to share those sentiments. I can share ideas that i otherwise dont know how to express. I can tell stories with it which i think is the best part

Im so glad i didn't give up art. Those several years of not knowing how to love art when it wasn't an escape was rough and confusing, but the new way ive learned to interact with art was so worth it!!!

8. Any reoccurring dreams

I dont really get reoccuring dreams anymore. The one that remarkably stays in my memories tho was between the ages of 9 to 12 i had this one dream that i kept having that i absolutely loved cause it was like an adventure game to me.

It would start off with going down this mario esque pipe tunnel, green and all.

And i would land in this underground home, very alice in wonderland vibes of beautiful and extravagant pillows and furniture.

And then the "game" starts where the entire underground home slowly starts filling up with water and i have to climb out before its too late.

Sometimes i try to explore the home before i have to escape, but most of the time i am trying to climb furniture and figure out how to get out. I've always been able to get out. I think it why it was my favorite dream as a kid and not like a nightmare

8. Current favorite song

Ive already shared one with another ask but I'll take the chance to share another

Another krewella song it's called Blackout

I'll have to listen to it when im out of bed

I just really love the vibes and different electronic sounds

I never remember the lyrics to songs most of the time haha so i forget what this one's about

#ask meme #ask prompts #gonna use both these tags for this ask game until i choose one hm

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kithtaehyung · 2 years ago

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Okay, not trying to monopolize the inbox lol, but ive been thinking about things all morning, and i want to give context to my reactions to some things because you’re so talented you deserve to know exactly how much this affected me!

- Oh god, Ryen, dont take this from us: “Yoongi decides that he wants more of it. In a lot of other aspects of his life.”

He’s wanting things for himself! Yes, reader was the catalyst, but everyone gets inspired by something, and you kind of have to to come out of dark shit. That he’s gotten to a point where he wants to be better for HIMSELF! In more ways than outside the relationship! I know this was discussed more in the interlude, but this line right here hit me right in the feels. The way you have fully given us this example of what this type of growth looks like, how painful that process can be while it’s happening!

- “If he’s gonna bow out, he’s gonna do all the shit he wants to do first. One last time before reality fully severs the string that shouldn’t have tethered to your heart.” No he’s going to break her… no no no no no

I love that i was proven wrong here, that even if he didn’t open up to her, she would have been okay, that she learned how to be okay for herself!!! It still would have been devastating for me, but she would have been okay!!

- “If it was Yuri instead…” oop!!

Again you explored this further (i just love your writing, man), when she was talking about feeling betrayed. I love this exploration of the role reversal!! I’m guessing when they tell bro or in the build-up to that you’ll go more i to WHY she would feel betrayed… I’m trying to imagine one of my friends dating one of my sisters behind my back, maybe i just hate my sister’s current boyfriend enough that i can’t relate lol

- “Of course, this could just be another byproduct of your worrying, so you blaze past it. No more of that, remember? He’s proven himself over and over that you don’t have to second guess.” Ryen no!!!! How could you!!! Worry, girl worry!!!!

Ryen, I was gonna throw hands if my girl’s non-worrying was punished!!! Seriously though, just the way you show this growth in her thought process and how it can be hard to find where you can trust your instincts, but how she can do that by clearly identifying the external cues that give actual credence to the fear! It’s like a masterclass! I’m taking notes! I feel weird that my feedback is mostly about like… how you demonstrate anxiety… But it’s the way you talk about something so important (at the very least to me, but im guessing a whole lot of people) in a way that’s clear but still entertaining, emotional, is a catalyst for conflict and resolution story-wise in a way that’s true to life. It’s so good!!

- “This old, silly man.”

My favorite fucking line. Especially bc when i watch videos and clips of real life Yoongi i express this same sentiment all the time lol! Also this as the turning point for her realizing how she impacts him, of not just seeing herself as the recipient of good things in this relationship. Chefs kiss!

- “And you’ll be okay. No matter what happens now, you’ll brave those waters.”

Like i said before, this was so great! The joy i felt here for her! I felt so proud!!

- “Holy fuck, what else has he been screaming without a word? “ shit

‘Screaming without a word’ that hit me so hard! Just making me feel things over here without holding my hand?!?!?

- “Yoongi [10:06pm]: It’s all good. I got us” oh thank fuck

Not my distrustful ass ruminating last night about whether Jimin or Tae took his phone to reassure her bc he’s actually freaking out smh Literally none of my predictions of angst have been right! Need to get like reader and take your cues and not make up pain in my head!

I’m so glad i came across your blog and this story! You’ve given me so much, and done so in the most masterful way! Such a talent!!

-🚌

BUSSSS IM FINALLY HERE DFKDSF you posted this so quickly after forfeit dropped, too.. goodness. i will try not to be this late to responding again omfg i feel so bad for all the late ass responses T^T

you aren't monopolizing omg!! you can send as many messages as you want to, anytime<33

- Oh god, Ryen, dont take this from us: “Yoongi decides that he wants more of it. In a lot of other aspects of his life.”

you really do have to get yourself out of dark shit, bc at the end of the day you only have you! and i'm glad you noticed that he wants to be better for himself before anything else. that's the growth that i want all of us to have, not just our beloved 3tan yoongi. and it really can be so painful and scary?? but we will all be better for it when we start that process.

i'm glad you were proven wrong, too! because we all expect the worst (3tan yoongi very much included) but that didn't happen. reader would've been okay because they are so strong, but i'm glad that things unfolded the way they did.

- “If it was Yuri instead…” oop!!

AHHH YES. not a lot of people talked about the realization that reader had when thinking about the situation if it was flipped. like what if bro was hooking up with one of her friends? what if it was one of the friends we are used to seeing?? like that would be awkward as hell!! so why wouldn't reader and yoongi's situation be perceived any differently?

it's always fun to introduce new perspectives, especially when we're so entrenched in one for a long time. reality is a b it ch sometimes so there's that lol

DFLSDFHSD you really brought out to the masterclass word i'm gonna cry!! but yes, i knew reader has matured mentally up to this point - i mean, it's been a few chapters, so.. gotta see some incremental growth throughout them all! to show that growth in different ways is certainly a challenge, but one that i am very fine with trying to overcome.

I feel weird that my feedback is mostly about like… how you demonstrate anxiety… But it’s the way you talk about something so important (at the very least to me, but im guessing a whole lot of people) in a way that’s clear but still entertaining, emotional, is a catalyst for conflict and resolution story-wise in a way that’s true to life. It’s so good!!

whoa whoa don't feel weird about that at alllll, bus. you know my writing is intentional, so everything i bring up and talk about? you bet it's on purpose.

what is writing if not a little bit of social commentary? anxiety, depression, and any other mental subjects people deal with are prevalent and need to be discussed - and taught accurately about - a lot more. whether people pick up on these subjects while reading or not, i want them to be as normally presented as they would show up in life. because they're there.

we can't shy away from these things or see them as weaknesses, either, bc they are not.

- “This old, silly man.”

AHAHAH YESSS we love our silly old man that's my age but i digress. and the realization hidden in this line, too? i'm glad you noticed<33 now reader knows that they aren't alone in the cloudy mind department.

- “And you’ll be okay. No matter what happens now, you’ll brave those waters.”

Like i said before, this was so great! The joy i felt here for her! I felt so proud!!

god, i'm so proud of both of them. i really do wanna dive back into this chapter again just to witness everything all over again.

- “Holy fuck, what else has he been screaming without a word? “ shit

‘Screaming without a word’ that hit me so hard! Just making me feel things over here without holding my hand?!?!?

ahhhh.. thank you omg.. this commentary hit me in the feels!!

- “Yoongi [10:06pm]: It’s all good. I got us” oh thank fuck

SLDFDSHF the overthinking aspect is so real, too!! like yes it makes for something to write about but dear god i know how overthinking can really get to you.

I’m so glad i came across your blog and this story! You’ve given me so much, and done so in the most masterful way! Such a talent!!

thank you so much for everything, bus!! you've been so wonderful to have here and i'm glad you're enjoying all the writing. i am blushing so hard right now LOL you better quit before i cry even more!

#i love you!!!#🚌 anon #asks:3tan #3tan9 #all the forfeit reviews and commentary have me crying in the club #like damn y'all didn't hold back and i love it #lovely people #*ryenfictalk #mailbox💌#long post

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chrysalispen · 4 years ago

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iv. never give the heart outright

AO3 link HERE Chapter under cut.

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The day Aurelia Laskaris left Gridania dawned damp and foggy: as mundane and unremarkable a sendoff as one could possibly wish. The heat wave had relented overnight and the wind with it, and the trees’ leaves hung still and sparkling with droplets of dew. Pale rays of early morning sun filtered through the low-hanging wisps of cloud and collected dust motes and small insects in their wake. The quality of it reminded her of L’haiya’s lace curtains, the way their softness and the delicate patterns and filtered sunbeams had always framed the sitting room windows of her girlhood home.

The driver of the chocobo carriage aimed to set out from the city before full daybreak. Thus she stood in drowsy silence along with half a dozen other passengers set to board, watching the lalafellin teamster as he and the Canopy’s porters secured the larger bags. Barring any unforeseen incidents, the carriage’s route would take them south past Quarrymill, through the marshes near old Amdapor, and south into the high desert of northeastern Thanalan until they reached Ul’dah.

It had taken her all of three days to conclude her affairs: there was, after all, no property for her to sell, nor any anxious relatives to wheedle her into remaining.

Watching the small man loop his handfuls of hempen rope to secure over boxes and bags and other people’s assorted belongings, Aurelia felt a certain twinge of wistfulness that she had not expected. The forest city was not quite home, but it had served as the closest thing she had to one for nearly five years. But it was not enough to keep her. The excitement of the road ahead had not left her, and she faced the morning with bright eyes and a clear mind. The sun was up and so was she.

Keveh’to did not share her optimism, that much was obvious with a mere glance. The Miqo’te stood at her side with an expression one could only describe as pained. His ears lay flat against his fluffy hair, and his fawn-colored bottlebrush tail lashed emphatic and agitated beats against her leg.

“I know I’ve asked you half a dozen times now,” he said quietly, “but are you absolutely certain about this?"

Her answer was the same as it had been each time he had asked:

“As certain as I shall ever be.”

“That isn’t reassuring.”

“Yes, well,” she felt a twinge of annoyance at his pessimism surface at last, “as one recalls, ‘twas you who made the suggestion that I consider further study afield.”

"When you told me you’d give the matter some thought, I didn’t expect you to come back to Miounne’s place the same day with a letter of introduction already scripted and sealed.” His arms folded over his chest and he stared up into the canopy. “E-Sumi-Yan must have had that letter already waiting to give to you, whatever he said.”

“Perhaps. It’s not as though he would have told me if he did.” Aurelia looked down at herself and smoothed the pleats of her skirt yet again. All of it, from head to toe, was new. It felt so odd; she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had new clothing. “Thank you again,” she continued, somewhat awkwardly. “For the traveling attire. It's quite fine.”

Keveh’to shrugged. A dull rosy flush crept up the sides of his neck. “It’s Ul’dah,” he said. “They’ll toss you out the gates on your arse if you show up looking like a beggar.”

“Hells below,” she tried to make a jest of it with a soft laugh, “you make it sound as though they’ll have a fashion inspector awaiting my arrival.”

“No. But I’ve known my share of that lot, and ‘tis not unlikely they’ll hit you with a demand for a hefty bribe at least once.”

“Yes, I’ve heard stories from some of the others.”

“And for goodness’ sake, Relia- please do yourself a favor and be careful about the company you keep. No one needs to know about you-know-what.” He tapped his temple with a humorless smile. “Ul’dah is a great deal more cosmopolitan than our humble little forest abode, but even they might balk at that.”

The stare she gave him could best be described as obstinate, with the hard set of her jawline. “...I might be ignorant of many Eorzean customs, but I should like to think I am not that much of a fool.”

“I’m trying to watch out for you.”

“Rest assured, I do appreciate the thought.” Still so glum. She frowned at him, “I thought that this decision would have pleased you. You made no secret you were tired of watching me mope about.”

“I- yes. But-”

He opened his mouth, stuttered into empty air, then sighed.

The other passengers milled about them in a somnolent shuffle, muttering to each other and passing bags back and forth. A pair of snowy-haired elezen twins in clothing as new and fine as her own brushed past Aurelia and Keveh’to without sparing a second glance, their identical braids and hair-ribbons stirring in a cool and sluggish breeze from the riverbank. She waited for the pair to pass well out of earshot before she continued, as gently as she could manage:

“This isn’t goodbye forever, you know.”

“I know.”

“They gave me honorary citizenship. I think I’m obligated to at least visit from time to time.” Another jest, one which failed in a like manner as the other to crack his solemn visage. “But I do fully plan on returning once I’ve completed my studies.”

“Right. I understand that. It’s…” His ears swiveled forward, then back, still flattened unhappily against his hair. “...Never mind. It’s not important.”

“No, go on.”

“It’s a trifling personal matter. Naught that you should worry about.”

“If you have something to say-”

That stony stoicism faded at last, relaxing into a smile, but it was as sad a smile as she had ever seen Keveh’to Epocan give anyone. “Matter of fact, I did. Once. But I see now that I’ve gone and waited too long,” he said cryptically. “Saying it now won’t change anything, and I wager I’d only feel worse if it did.”

“I’m sorry.” Aurelia worried at her lower lip with her teeth. “Truly, I am.”

His smile stretched into a grin. It made him look far more like the man she had come to know, the friend who teased and needled her and let her talk herself into momentous decisions. “You’ve no cause to be sorry for anything, my friend. The fault is mine own if there’s fault to be placed. I’m just being sentimental, I suppose. And, mayhap, a touch selfish.”

“Last call for luggage,” bellowed one of the porters. “If ye don’t bring it up now, ye’ll be carryin’ it yerselves! ‘Tis a long road ahead! Last call for luggage!”

Aurelia looked down at herself, then the bags at her feet. She only had the three pieces: her salvaged field kit, her herbal bag, and the pack which held in it those few trifling personal possessions she owned, including her mother’s memento mori. The field kit’s thick carbonweave strap perched on her shoulder, its tripartite-link imperial insignia long since removed by her own hand (Rhaya Wolndara’s angry reaction to the sight of it had been a valuable lesson in precaution) and its once-hefty weight now considerably lightened with even her most conservative usage of its contents over the years.

“Well,” he said after a moment, with transparently forced cheer, “let’s be about it. This lot won’t load itself.”

“The field kit needs to stay with me,” she drew out of reach when he stretched out a hand to take it from her shoulder. “Too many fragile items. Glass and the like. I’ll not trust it to the vagaries of a draught chocobo.”

“Fair enough.”

He picked up the others and made his way toward the waiting porter as the small collection of passengers began to mill towards the slatted steps. A Highlander man drowsed near the front of the carriage, hand wrapped loosely about a wine bottle and otherwise oblivious to the world. Aurelia double-checked the small leather belt she wore to make sure the letters Miounne and E-Sumi-Yan had penned were intact; a fine mess it would be if she were to lose them on the journey.

“Aurelia!”

The matronly Duskwight proprietress of the Carline Canopy stood head and shoulders over most of the passengers, and she quickly drew their attention as she made her way towards the small gathering with a swift and decisive stride. The Garlean offered her a small smile.

“Good morning to you, Miounne,” she said. “Come to see me off, have you?”

“I certainly have. I hope you weren’t planning on leaving us this morning without breaking your fast, girl,” was Miounne’s brisk reply, though she returned the smile as she held out her hands. In them, she carried a steaming tin cup and a small cloth-wrapped bundle. “I set aside one of my eel pies for you. ‘Tis a bit chilly as well, so I thought some hot tea might do you well on the road. Don’t worry about the cup; I have plenty of them.”

Touched by the gesture, Aurelia carefully took the cup and the wrapped pie, one in each hand.

“You didn’t have to do this-”

“I know,” Miounne said, a wry smirk tilting her lips. She wiped her hands on her apron. “But I did. The pie is heavy and should keep your belly full for a day or two. You’ll be changing carriages at the station in Highbridge to the Sunroad trail; you’ll want to get more supplies while you’re there-- make sure you have plenty of fresh water. There’s naught betwixt Drybone and the city save malms of scrubland, and this time of year the water holes will be too low to sustain travelers. I imagine the Calamity will have made the pickings slim for hunting as well.”

Aurelia nodded.

“Once you pass through the city gates, make your way to the Quicksand. That’s where the Ul’dahn Adventurers’ Guild operates; the proprietress’ name is Momodi Modi. I sent word ahead that she’s to expect your arrival within the sennight. All you need to do is give her your name and mine.”

“I... yes. I’ll do that.”

“And please, Aurelia dear- do take care in Ul’dah. It is a very different sort of city from ours. You are a kind woman with the best of intentions and there are those who would…” Miounne hesitated. “...Well. I’ll not fearmonger; I’ll wager you’ve heard enough of that. But I would ask the Twelve to watch over you nonetheless- if that’s all right, of course.”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment. Instead, she watched Keveh’to’s back, the way his officer’s overcoat pulled taut across the shoulders as he passed her bags to the porter, then cast her eyes down at Miounne’s parting gifts.

The sight brought back a memory of the last time she had left behind the familiar to set out for the unknown: fresh from her schooling, set to board a train at the capital’s processing center after she had enlisted in the imperial army. No one had accompanied her. Not to give her well wishes or helpful directions, or even to wave their farewells from the platform as the train departed for the tunnels bored beneath the mountains and into the heart of Castrum Pinnaculum. She had gone to the station alone, had left alone, and for the first few weeks of basic training, she had struggled alone.

But she was not alone now. Perhaps she no longer owned a marvel of a garden, or slept in a fine bed, or wore silks, but since coming to Eorzea she had made more friends in this past handful of years than in the previous decade. That had to count for something.

Aurelia stared into the steaming teacup and swallowed past the sudden constriction in her throat with considerable effort, then looked at the other woman with glassy blue eyes.

“I’d like that,” she said at last. “And thank you, Miounne. For everything.”

Before the woman could muster a response Aurelia had turned away and hurried towards the lowered carriage steps. She didn’t want to lose her nerve or shed tears, not today, and she still had one more farewell to give.

Keveh’to reached the steps first; he plucked the carbonweave strap from her shoulder and slung it over his own the moment she drew near. “Let me pass that up to you once you’re seated,” he said. “You can’t carry both your breakfast and this great bloody thing onto the carriage.”

She was the last to board. The wooden stair was showing its age and it creaked even under Aurelia’s slight weight as she made her way onto the covered deck. The platinum-headed Elezen twins she had seen earlier sat in the back near the cargo across from the last empty space: the one in blue was wholly absorbed in perusing a tome while the one in red dozed upon their companion’s shoulder. Neither of them paid her any mind as she set her teacup and snugly wrapped meal upon the open seat. Nor did any of the others, for that matter.

Mayhap this part was not so very different from that long ago train ride after all.

Aurelia chuckled aloud, though the sound lacked humor, and turned towards the other end of the carriage at the sound of swift footsteps. Keveh’to had come up behind her to deliver her remaining bag. The half-empty imperial field kit, still large and cumbersome for all it lacked much of the weight it once bore, smacked with a quiet dull thud against his thigh with each step. His expression was unreadable as he set it down at her feet.

“Suppose Mother Miounne already said it so I don’t need to,” he said, “but I will, anyroad. Take care of yourself and be careful who you trust. And if there is trouble and you need to leave for any reason, you always have a home here.”

“Keveh’to-” Before she could finish what she had meant to say his arms had wrapped about her shoulders in a heavy embrace, tail wound around her calf.

“Write to us once in a while, will you?” he muttered in her ear. “Just… just so we know you’re doing alright. Even if it’s something about your alchemy that I- I mean, we don’t understand.”

“Or care about,” Aurelia said wryly. She knew full well that Keveh’to was not asking her to write to Miounne. Her arms tightened about his shoulders in return, just for a brief moment. “...I’ll write as often as I can manage.”

“Good.”

The Miqo’te looked for a moment as though he wanted to say - or do - something more, but instead released her with all haste, tail flickering and ears swiveling with his discomfiture as he went. Aurelia said nothing further as she took a step backward and turned to the seat where her tea and morning meal awaited. It was easy enough to spare him his blushes, to pretend that her focus lay upon how best she might secure her bag under the seat. Once that was done she picked up the teacup and took a thoughtful sip, placing Miounne's eel pie upon her lap. She was too full of nerves to be terribly hungry but that would no doubt change within a bell or two.

His retreat down the narrow steps came just in time for the porter to lift and shutter the low-slung door behind him with a brisk snap. Aurelia felt her eyes prickle and burn but her composure held fast, and when she turned about and lifted her free hand to wave at her friend it was with a bright smile on her face.

Her minder - her friend, now - gave only a half-second’s hesitation before he waved back. At his side, Miounne too lifted her hand in silent farewell.

“Quarrymill!” the driver shouted. “Next stop, Quarrymill!”

Following upon the heels of the teamster’s call came the draught chocobos’ twin kwehs. She braced herself and her teacup a moment before she felt the sharp initial jolt of the carriage’s forward motion. Within seconds it smoothed into a sedate and seamless drift as the wind aether filled the balloons overhead, and they were off down the half-paved cobbles that led to the Blue Badger gate. In moments they would pass out of the city and turn onto the southbound road.

For the final time, Aurelia allowed herself a glance over her shoulder, back over the lip of the carriage and in the direction of the Carline Canopy. Keveh’to, it seemed, had chosen to remain outside the chocobo paddock. He stood stiff and unmoving save for the tail that lashed erratically at the air, his hands shoved into his deep pockets and his mouth turned in a downward bow she could see even from here.

His words drifted across her mind like errant clouds.

I’ve waited too long. Saying it now won’t change anything.

She kept her gaze upon the dwindling figure until the carriage had rounded the bend and that splash of bright yellow was no longer visible through the foliage.

~*~

Watching the commotion below from his perch upon a flight of corrugated metal steps, Nero tol Scaeva knew what was coming next. The cohort’s work had come to a screeching halt and several of the engineers had gathered about to investigate the rear quarter panel of the left leg. None of them seemed to know what orders they were to give or be given if any, and the resulting confusion left them milling aimlessly about like ants puzzling at a stray piece of food someone had dropped on the floor.

Thus it fell to him to restore order, as much as he would rather not: his presence alone would subject him to fearful kowtowing and stammered excuses. He knew he could be a hard man when the situation called for it, but he liked to think he was also a fair one, and even the greenest of the signal corps had no reason to fear his wrath so long as they could explain themselves to his satisfaction. Still, he was a Garlean, and the provincial fear of his countrymen was deeply ingrained into the army's conscripts -- ingrained when it was not beaten.

No help for it, I suppose.

He made his way beneath the iron scaffolding that surrounded the warmachina's exoskeleton at a brisk pace. The clatter of his sollerets upon the metal tiling set an easy and unhurried rhythm as he crossed the open floor until his stride slowed to a full stop mere fulms away. The engineers’ chatter, quiet but idle, dwindled into an anxious silence.

One of the engineers, a tiny Auri woman with her lavender-tinted hair bound in regulation braids, went visibly pale at the sight of his approach but to her credit did not make a show of flinching from him, and even had sufficient courage to offer up a salute as was proper. He folded his arms over his chest and peered down at her through the visor of his helm. They stood close enough that he could see how her forearm - still stiffly crossed over her chest - trembled at his proximity.

“Architectus,” he said very calmly.

“Y-yes, my lord?”

“As you were,” she dropped her salute, but her back remained ramrod straight and the tension did not leave her shoulders. He continued as if he had failed to notice, “I mark a number of you performing a very serious study of this warmachina’s leg joint, in lieu of performing your assigned tasks.”

Her swallow was audible even through his helm’s transceiver, but her stone-faced stare did not waver. “Apologies, my lord. There is-”

“I believe I have stated on multiple occasions that we have a schedule to keep, and not a terribly lenient one at that. Perhaps the cohort is in need of a reminder.”

“My lord, please,” the woman blurted, then winced almost immediately, “I am sorry to interrupt. But you see, there’s a problem.”

Shite and swiving hellsfire, if I never hear ‘there’s a problem’ again in my lifetime it will be too soon. Still, unlike sas Junius it was not in Nero’s nature to vent his spleen upon hapless messengers. He released a long-suffering sigh instead - only somewhat dramatized for her benefit - and watched those large ocean-blue eyes break their impasse at the sound. They flickered nervously up at his face, then down, then back out to stare at that fixed point past his waistline.

“Of course there is,” he said aloud.

“My lord?”

His own fault, he surmised, for expecting any other response to his bit of japery. “Never mind. Continue.”

“Yes, my lord. We ran the initial tests using the Vanguard H-1’s specifications, as dictated. The operating system ran as expected upon startup. But when we tried to proceed with full activation... well, we tried to switch over from the H-1 but it caused a power surge and nearly started a fire- as you see here. As it is we’re dead in the water. She won’t power on at all now.”

“I assume our engineering teams ran down their checklists for aught that might have compromised structural integrity, prior to attempting the activation.”

“Just so, my lord. Circuitry, fuel lines, motherboards-- it was all green.” She bit her lip. “If… perhaps we might speak to the quartermaster and requisition another part. Or perhaps a larger-”

“The next step up would be the specs for a low-velocity assault craft,” Nero interrupted dryly. “While I share your readiness to explore all possible options, I think it unwise to blindly run through every single spare part at our disposal hoping for a result. Aside from the obvious risks, ‘tis inefficient. We do not have a great deal of time to make what amounts to an educated guess.”

“I- yes,” she stammered. “I apologize, my lord, I should have thought-”

He waved an impatient hand. She fell silent as instantly as if he had slammed a door shut in her face. “Who is your immediate superior?”

“Valens nan Varro, my lord.”

“Kindly inform him that the activation test has been delayed pending an internal review. We will reschedule after I have spoken with the legatus.”

Now she was staring at her feet, her face pale once again. “...He will be sorely displeased if he discovers we have failed you, my lord. Sorely.”

“Ah, yes. A terrible burden indeed, the primus architectus' personal inconvenience. Unfortunately, we shall all have to bear it,” Nero said briskly. He did not care to argue the matter with a subordinate; such behavior would undermine his authority, and the engineers present were well aware that his word was the final say.

“But-”

“If nan Varro is displeased with the decision and wishes to contest it, then he may take his grievance up with me directly.”

Her shoulders slumped forward ever so slightly, not in relief but defeat. Beneath his helm, Nero raised his brows at the response but said nothing further.

“Yes, my lord.”

“And I expect an incident report on my desk by 0700 tomorrow morning. Posthaste.”

Her answering salute was stiff and formal, expression as stony and unyielding as a statue’s. Whatever emotion he had spied was carefully hidden now; the wall was back in place. Curious. Irrelevant. He had neither the time nor the wherewithal to waste in wondering after it.

Nero passed her without another word, her fellows hastening to clear a path for him as he approached the enormous back leg. There were scorch marks on the edges of the chassis panel, he noted; exposed copper fibers trailed from the opened casing like wilted ivy creepers. The ends were blackened and a thin line of smoke still curled in slender lines; the smell was acrid and familiar and the castrum's ventilation system would disperse it within a half hour.

One hand hovered just over the scorched plate as he studied the sight, with a furrowed brow and pursed lips.

Retrofitting Allagan technology was not a precise art, as much as it pained Nero to admit it. Some artifacts worked so readily with Garlean magitek that the process was utterly seamless, as if it had been meant for their hands. Others were far more complex, and thus more time-intensive. The Ultima Weapon had been his longest project to date, and the tribunus laticlavius had to remind himself that the machina had been experimental even to the greatest scientists of its age: a groundbreaking anti-eikon countermeasure that partnered the arcane with the mundane. A seamless blending of aetherology and engineering, borne of man’s ingenuity.

Blended---

Ah.

“My lord?” a timid voice echoed at his back. The engineers were watching him; they had gathered a respectful six fulms away.

“...This is not a public spectacle,” his hand fell away from the plating. “See to this mess. I want the machina checked from top to bottom for aught that could possibly cause further delays. Exposed joints, chassis warping, blown fuses, exposed wires, all of it.”

"My lord, the test-" "Is no longer your priority," his impatience filtered through as a short, barked command. "Attend to your tasks. I will not ask you twice." The gathered cluster of engineers sketched their salutes and scattered like mice, scrambling to obey before any of them could experience the implied consequences for perceived insubordination. Nero watched them in silence for a few beats before taking his leave. He made his way back along the catwalk and up several flights of steps, to one of the administrative bays that oversaw the hangar. Once he was certain of his privacy, he removed his helm with a soft and relieved sigh. It was a mere press of a button after that to open the transceiver link and set it to a specific frequency. Static hissed in the confines of the empty office for one second, two, before the link became stable and there was smooth air and Gaius van Baelsar's gruff baritone:

“State your business.”

“Lord Gaius. Have I interrupted something?”

“Yes, but naught of particular importance. For a small blessing.” The legatus of the XIVth Imperial Legion sounded vaguely put out, but not irate. An encouraging sign which meant he was like to be at least somewhat amenable to the discussion Nero wished to have. “I take it you have something you wished to discuss.”

“I do. The activation test failed. I should have an incident report within the next 24 hours that will list the particulars.”

“Again?”

“Indeed. This is why,” Nero took a deep breath, “I should like to request that the Weapon and all hands involved in the project be transferred to the research facility in Agelyss Wyse.” “The Vylbrand coast? That is not exactly shouting distance from Gyr Abania. And there are certain dangers present which make your proposition quite risky.” Refusal to take risks will not garner the results we seek. "With all due respect, my lord, you did not assign me this project with any fond hopes that I would remain complacent,” he could almost feel his commanding officer bristling at his bluntness, “and these failed tests have made it abundantly clear that - as you will recall that I posited, against protest from certain quarters - ceruleum combustion alone will not be sufficient to bring the Weapon back online. Not at full capacity.”

“What do you propose?”

“I will get to that eventually, but first and foremost: I need data. Current data. Simulations and conjectures will only get us so far.” He glanced out the bay window at the massive machina, a dormant monster, each opened claw the size of a juggernaut. “The Weapon was designed to do far more than subdue eikons, and we have merely scratched the surface of its capabilities. But scratching is all we will manage if we remain here.”

Nero managed - only just - to keep the excitement out of his voice. The Black Wolf of Garlemald was a straightforward man, he knew from long years of experience: interested in results, not theories.

“I understand this, but you are also asking to upend our timetable for the sake of a hypothesis.”

“A hypothesis with its foundation in the methods the Allagans used to create and maintain Dalamud- as Lord van Darnus would attest, were he still with us. I think it a safe assumption that the Ultima Weapon operates upon a similar methodology.” Van Baelsar’s only response was a sigh of consternation. Nero continued, “And yes, it would move our overall timetable forward a few weeks. I admit it.”

“Nearly two months,” the legatus said sourly. “You understand that even if I agree to your proposal, it is not something that can be immediately enacted.”

“I would not expect to presume thus, my lord, of course.” There was bureaucracy involved, and the logistics of moving entire teams between castra -- not to mention the machina itself. Well, Solus zos Galvus had not built the Empire in a day, either. “I realize there are protocols to follow. I only ask for consideration-”

“And due consideration will be given, tribunus- in due time. At the very least I must needs contact the Occidens praefectus and discuss the matter. We will speak on this anon.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He could afford the wait. In the meantime, there was much yet to be done- and new plans to be made. When the legatus called for him again, as he inevitably would, Nero would be prepared to explain what must be done ere their goals could be met. Allag’s mighty Weapon would awaken from its slumber by his hand, and he would receive his fair due at last. There was no one and nothing now to keep him from reaching forth to take what was rightfully his.

This victory shall be mine and mine alone, he thought. And you, old friend, will be as chaff in the wind. Discarded and forgotten.

Beneath his twin veils of tempered glass and chromed crimson steel, Nero tol Scaeva began to smile.

#aurelia laskaris #garlean warrior of light #keveh'to epocan #gaius van baelsar #nero tol scaeva #mother miounne #werlyt cameos sort of?#and the leveilleurs #you get a cameo! and you get a cameo!#this concludes reborn by fire #off to ARR we gooo #upon pale dawns #chapter 4

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mousehole5000 · 4 years ago

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more tgcf chapters 143-173 lets goooooo

PEI MING BOO HISS except actually okay he’s mostly funny i think but still boo hiss

“hey who’s this guy who’s really pissed at you?” “oh thats my sword. i broke it.” alright then!

i think i need to go back and reread the banyue pass arc bc im still confused as to whats going on with banyue and pei su

“Banyue dropped from the sky with two pots raised. Without a word, she plummeted with the mouths of the pots facing down, trapping and detaining the shocked Ming’guang and the roaring Ke Mo within.” - THATS MY GIRL

“It must be known that, to heavenly officials, it certainly was more than natural for kingdoms of the mortal realm to fight and annihilate one another; the acts of these plays progressing on endlessly. But when it came their own turn, it was often hard to let things go. If one must stand in the same court as the one who annihilated their own kingdom, and that man cavorted in the heavens, exceedingly flashy, then it must be vexing.” - hmmmm!!

“I’ve spoken too many words in this lifetime. What are you referring to?” - okay to be fair thats a mood

okay its nice to get some pei ming backstory and its funny that he and xie lian are bonding but also still whenever pei ming interacts with a female character my hackles rise like a cat lol

“Xie Lian watched as Banyue thought really hard before cheerfully pulling out a few long, wine-red scorpion-snakes, and putting them into the bubbling pot.” - THATS MY GIRL

“Although “smell” was something colourless and formless, the instant Banyue removed the pot cover, it was as if some mysterious physical object had twisted all the air around the mouth of that pot. The group stared at the sight within the pot for a long time. Their pupils reflected an endless, bottomless darkness; like it could pull them into the abyss. No words could describe the sentiment expressed within their eyes. A moment later, Xie Lian patted Banyue’s shoulder and gave a thumbs-up.” - like father-figure like daughter-figure. amazing.

“However, what if one day mortals discovered something completely new that ran faster than horses? Then, when this new invention overtook horses, worshippers of this heavenly official who controlled horses would inevitably decrease. Such heavenly officials, flashing by like shooting stars, made up the majority of the heavens.” - obsessed with this, genuinely. life and change. worship and its purpose. my religious studies diploma on my wall is screaming at me rn. ALSO i am once again thinking about celebrities

“...” It was only then that Pei Ming seemed to notice, and started to contemplate this question. A moment later, he answered, “A habit. In a dark, creepy place like this, isn’t it normal to hold women in your arms, to comfort them and calm their fears?” “I’m sorry, but I wasn’t scared,” Banyue said.” - BANYUE I LOVE YOU. I MISSED YOU SO MUCH. god this takes me back to every college party i ever went to

LING WEN BACKSTORY????? shoeseller chosen for godhood bc she wrote a political essay and got arrested...... and now she’s face to face with the official who appointed her..... do go on.....

“Ling Wen laughed out loud, seeming to be enraged, and her voice dropped. “Very well! You said I couldn’t reach that high. Then, might I ask you: had the prominence of the Palace of Jing Wen at its peak ever reached even the knees of my Palace of Ling Wen??” - GET HIM!!!! BOO HISS JING WEN

“Compared to you, I’m not that bad,” Ling Wen said. “You’d personally order me to stay in the Palace of Jing Wen until midnight, then turn around and say I shamelessly hang around ‘til late to harass you. Words murder without form; I was much nicer responding with blatant violence.” - ling wen im love you..... also this bit... feels Real

BLOOD RAIN BLOOD RAIN BLOOD RAIN!! FLOWER PETALS TRANSFORMATION!!! see hua cheng? look as how cool it can be when you leave the story for a little while!! bc then you get to return and make an entrance!!

“Not only can you bring forth bloody rain, you can also make flowers shower. I didn’t know that. How fun!” - cute!! and in that moment we were all xie lian

“Everyone was stunned by his deed, and Ling Wen arduously gave him a thumbs-up. ”Ol’ Pei, what a man!” Pei Ming gritted his teeth. “WELCOME!” - aww three two tumors buddies!!

okay yin yu is here and xie lian did the equivalent of asking someone when the baby is due only to find out theyre not pregnant at all. then rong guang taunts yin yu and no one says anything. i do love the amount of awkward moments in this book tbh sometimes there are no words.

“All around was sand and mud crushing at him, exceedingly suffocating. The sand and mud was also moving endlessly; the feeling was like he was swallowed into the stomach of a giant monster, and that monster had also eaten a bunch of other things besides him, tumbling everything in its stomach, trying to digest” - ooooh creepy!!! the red string thing... is cute.... also xie lian being able to see hua cheng’s butterfly vision by looking directly into his eye is kinda cool. and obviously homoerotic.

“Are lower-ranked heavenly officials below other people?” Quan Yizhen asked. “No,” Yin Yu replied. Were they not? It was obvious that he himself didn’t believe in his own words, and Quan Yizhen also noticed. A good while later, he said bluntly, “I don’t like it here.” Yin Yu said nothing.” - im having emotions. and then yin yu also saying he doesnt like it there either.... also idk how this scene is going to play out but as much as im enjoying quan yizhen being an icon i can also possibly see how yin yu could eventually get to the point of “i am tired of being nice. i do just want to go apeshit” even if he really cares about qyz. it happens </3

“Indeed,” Hua Cheng said. “Half a year later when Quan Yizhen actually ascends, he won’t find it so funny anymore.” “Can we watch that part too?” Xie Lian asked. “We can. Hold on,” Hua Cheng replied.” - quan yizhen king of taking things literally. also why did this turn into hualian having a movie night

jian yu seems like the kind of asshole who would purposely give someone regular soda when they specifically asked for diet soda. god yin yu is really having a bad day i really feel for him in the whole situation with the brocade immortal

awww okay at least jian yu tried to take responsibility. im still mad at him tho that was objectively a terrible idea. god this whole situation sucked :(

“Rocks and earth crushed at them from all around, forcing their bodies to press tightly against one another, their faces brushing, their ears warm. Although it wasn’t the right time, a thought flashed through Xie Lian’s mind: “‘To die buried together’ doesn’t feel so bad.” - okay... im kind of emotional.... gay people....

okay obviously these murals and the prince of wuyong have some connection (im guessing pretty direct) to xie lian and are important but everytime they start analyzing one i feel like im back in art history class fhadskfhskjdhf not that thats a bad thing!! i liked art history a lot tbh

“Don’t worry, they’re not human,” Hua Cheng said. “It’s precisely because they’re not human that we have to worry, alright….” Xie Lian thought.” - goth ghost bf problems

xie lian: well, there is one person i trust more than anyone else, someone who’s first in my mind hua cheng, oblivious: oh :/ xie lian, also oblivious: what? hua cheng: you shouldnt trust so easily its dangerous xie lian: oh. haha. yeah. well. wanna,,, know who it is? hua cheng: its :) fine :) it :) doesnt :) matter :) but of course you can tell me if you want to gege xie lian, internally: well now ive made it weird hua cheng, 5 minutes later: actually i need you to tell me. right now. its totally for your security me: gay people smh

“As they suspected, he had been captured by Qi Rong. Although no one was bound by ropes, there were balls of greasily green ghost fires hovering over every one of their heads.” - completely off track but anybody else remember the great green globs of greasy grimy gopher guts song

“Could there actually come a day when Qi Rong was embarrassed that someone might see the manner in which he ate? Before Xuan Ji entered, she put Guzi down. Guzi, ta-ta-ta, ran in, rushing straight to Qi Rong’s side. But when he saw him, he pointed his finger. He cried, “Dad is eating bad things in secret again!” “I’m not!” Qi Rong retaliated.” SCREAM IS QI RONG LEARNING THE POWER OF LOVE NOOOO also god that poor man whose body he has im starting to doubt if he’ll ever be free jimmy novak flashbacks

everytime we get another ghost king power somewhere someone should be writing hua cheng the cyborg bf in a high tech futuristic au i think thats the only other potential setting that could truly capture this wild ride

“In truth, throughout history, there was no man in the world who didn’t love bragging. A breeze could blow the handkerchief of a brothel girl into a man’s hand, and he would turn around and say the most beautiful of renowned escorts had fallen in love with him; holding shoes and wiping benches for the emperor’s mistress’s uncle’s grandson’s cousin’s mistress would for sure become him being an important administrator at the residence of royal relatives, raising his status. Thus, men who didn’t brag were a rare species.” - SCREAM this is going in my favorite tgcf quotes folder god... mxtx come here let me shake your hand

read the story of rain master yushi huang’s ascension. why am i crying. also this bit im crying again me with my stuffed animals “Thus, while Yushi Huang was cultivating at the Temple of Yulong, every time when she went to seek water and passed that door, she would rub the head of that ox. The door knocker soaked in her essence of life, and when the Rain Master ascended, the ox ascended with her.”

okay thats enough for now i have 7 more chapters to book 4!!! woo!!!

#tgcf liveblog #bedtime now but im excited to be moving on #mouse mumbles

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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All The Qualities of a Winner (Rotox/Detoxxxy) - Dvious

a/n: i went into s5 totally expecting to love jinkx the most - and i did! but i also couldn’t help but sympathize with all of roxxxy’s insecurities and the unfortunate way they expressed themselves, and 2/3 of rolaskatox being all over each other constantly was ridiculous and adorable so i had to produce something about it…

she has all the qualities of a winner, she thinks. for example, she doesn’t want anything sentimental to come up in this competition, anything that reminds her of home.

roxxxy andrews doesn’t need a security blanket. this is a competition, after all, and while she’d expected to recognize some of her fellow competitors, she had no interest in anything that would distract her from showing her best, and showing everyone else up in the process. so it feels a little scary when the two of them so easily fall back into their old patterns, because it looks like vulnerability, like each of them have an achilles heel.

not scary enough for her to stop, though. not scary enough for her to move when they’re squeezed together on couches or at tables, and not scary enough for her to pull her hand away when detox reaches out to grab it.

the night of the very first runway, there are way too many girls for them all to sit comfortably in the lounge. roxxxy catches the scent of mugler perfume and feels the back of the couch sink down behind her, but she doesn’t turn to see who it is.

she already knows.

it’s not like her to doubt herself this way.

ask any of the girls back home, any of the girls she’s competed against in pageantry. roxxxy knows she’s a winner, or at least she tells herself she does, and maybe it’s the newness of everything here - but she’s never felt quite this shaken. it manifests itself in the way her lips purse distastefully whenever jinkx is contouring, the way she nervously babbles her way through confessionals with the main goal of cramming as many reads as she can into two minutes.

so when detox showers her with compliment after compliment in the lounge and roxxxy virtually melts into her chair, she tells herself it’s because she just needed some good old-fashioned praise. she craves validation, but it always seems to come with a side of genuine criticism on the runway. it’s fine, she expected it, she wants to say it’s making her better but instead it makes her vitriolic and confused.

maybe it’s good, then, that she’s been hooked up to a constant iv-drip of bitch you look fucking sickening, sickeningly gorgeous 24/7. she never feels glowing until she’s told she is.

detox tells her she is glowing unceasingly, and roxxxy repeats those words to herself the same way jinkx whispers her mantra onstage. except roxxxy says it in her head, so that she can feel like she needs it less.

she prides herself on her independence.

this is a competition, after all. she’s not here to rely on crutches to get her to the top. in her heart of hearts, she knows that once rolaskatox gets to the top three (and they will, of course), things will change. but for now - when there’s so many of them and she can coast through - it’s easy. she’s getting more used to things, and she’s pretty sure she’s getting better by the week. alaska looks down and purses her lips whenever the judges mention cliques, but roxxxy stares straight ahead, willfully content in their little trio.

i just don’t want to lay it on so thick in front of the judges, y'know, alaska tells them in the workroom. they both agree. but it’s reflexive, detox just won, is roxxxy not supposed to congratulate her? she can see michelle’s eyes flicker over to the way they’re holding one another at the back of the stage, but so what? they’re friends congratulating one another on a job well done, on earning another week to show everyone what they can do…

they start to walk up onstage to congratulate coco for winning the lip sync, and when the two of them inevitably separate, roxxxy’s fingers hook in the mesh of the other queen’s dress. she pulls on it reflexively, and then half-shouts something brash and nonchalant, to make herself look less desperate. but her words are wasted; detox must have some kind of touch-starvation sixth sense and she loops their arms together again. and roxxxy’s smile returns easily to her face again just in time for a camera pan.

by the final three, she won’t need this, roxxxy thinks. she’ll be on her own, in the center of the stage, a crown on her head.

as a rule, roxxxy loves crowds.

there’s really nothing like strutting your stuff in a sequinsed gown to the roar of an auditorium filled with adoring fans. or lip syncing to the perfect j.lo song with a backdrop of cheering and clapping. a silent crowd, however - staring up at her as she shuffles her notes and tries to roast the straight-faced panel - is another thing entirely. as she steps to the side she takes solace in the fact that she at least was second to go, so they really won’t remember how bad she was. hell, all the other girls had at least one or two sullen responses from the crowd. she’s good to go, probably. it’s still a disgusting feeling, having everyone look at her like that in silence and reading her own failure in their eyes.

but even if she doesn’t feel as confident as usual it’s important to project confidence, which is why she’s so nonchalant in the lounge when they talk about their childhoods. she’s not about to give a sob story to everyone; the point of her explanation is to get it over with as quickly as possible so that everyone thinks about how impressive it is that she’s gotten over it so well. roxxxy presses her fingertips into the jewels of her ring, over and over again, leaving imprints on her skin and wondering why she’s so resistant to the spotlight tonight when she’s normally out to steal it.

she is in the bottom two for the first time, against the consummate performer of the season, the pageant girl with spice. she thinks she turned it out, but she really doesn’t know because she could hardly see alyssa through the hair they were both whipping around. here she is, in front of a much smaller crowd, but this time she’s finding out how badly she failed instead of whether she’ll be first place or runner-up. her throat feels tight with shame and when rupaul asks her what’s wrong, she fumbles her way through a response twice until before she knows it she’s sobbing - which is so ridiculous to do on a runway of all places and she wants to curl up and hide and never let anyone see her ever again.

she regains her composure, kind of, because that’s what she does. she prepares herself to give a gracious smile, in preparation for when alyssa will be told to stay, but the moment never comes. she gets to stay, too, and when she bursts into tears alyssa is the first one to make it to her for a hug. she feels detox pulling her close and kissing her hair clumsily (god that lip gloss will be hard to get out) and then the wave of everyone else’s arms around them. she feels hidden. protected.

she feels enveloped in a crowd, unseen but a spectacle at the same time, safe.

competition is where roxxxy thrives.

hell, she’s based her entire career on voluntarily competing and being judged and being the best. she thinks of it as her forte - a place where everything else falls away and, ideally, she is rewarded with recognition for all the work she’s done. it’s not a competition about being yourself, roxxxy thinks sourly when jinkx says she’s made it this far because she’s true to herself. it’s a competition about being the best. so what if jinkx is good at comedy, and acting, and singing, and being charismatic, and all of that stuff. drag is about sewing and makeup and looking untouchably fierce and having a presence. roxxxy repeats this internal monologue to herself at least ten times a day. she eats licorice strings and fumes and glares at her dress form. no matter how many times she tries to read jinkx to filth, she comes away feeling worse. it makes absolutely no sense to her.

she troubleshoots the sewing machine once every ten minutes or so for detox, and spends the entire time shooting shady comments in jinkx’s direction. the redhead won’t say anything to them anymore, painting on her contour in the mirror with a face of stony focus. roxxxy’s fingertips tingle with a combination of fear and anticipation. rolaskatox top three! she yells over her shoulder as they leave the workroom for the runway, but it sounds more like she’s trying to convince herself than celebrate.

even through the lip sync she fiddles with the licorice strings, telling herself she’ll be so happy when rupaul announces detox is staying and she can relax. in fact, by the time rupaul gives jinkx her spot in the final three, roxxxy is so shocked that even when her lips start trembling and her brow furrows she refuses to believe it. her pageant smile returns reflexively as they quickly swarm the stage for a goodbye hug before the producers corral them away; she catches the scent of mugler perfume again. she thinks it starts with an a. angel or alien or awesome or something. it’s perfect. it makes her throat feel tight and her eyes sting with unshed tears.

she watches the last swish of chiffon disappear backstage. a licorice string has fallen off her dress and lays at her feet. she is in the top three; she is a finalist; she has almost proven that she is good enough to win.

roxxxy beams at the judges. she feels a little empty, a little hollow, like a piece of her has been removed.

this is where she’ll show her very best.

now is the time to prove that she really does deserve to be here, that rolaskatox is as sickening apart as they were together; time to pull out her sparkliest gowns and her tightest corsets.

instead, as she reads her note from detox, something ugly and vindictive bubbles inside her. jinkx’s presence doesn’t fit here; her spot should have gone to someone else, someone more deserving and neon and angrier. everything that comes out of roxxxy’s mouth is dripping with venom, some of it even directed towards alaska. she smirks and taunts her way through the workroom on those last few days, feeling less focused than ever. she spends the majority of their final challenge trying to get herself to do not as well as she can do, but just better than everyone else. all the while she sulks in her head about how of course their final challenge is some comedy acting thing where it doesn’t matter that her contour is more snatched than jinkx’s or that the wig looks better on her than alaska. she can’t judge herself by this yardstick, not when the other two are better than her.

she thinks she brings it for the runway, at least, except when she has to give her speech. compared to jinkx it sounds far too pageanty (more polished? she hopes desperately) and compared to alaska it sounds far less funny (more professional? she thinks, grasping for something there). it sounds like herself, she thinks.

she wishes she could take it less seriously. in roxxxy’s mind, jinkx has been coasting, how can you take comedy seriously? she can’t fit the pieces together in her head to understand and she’s done trying. all she can repeat to herself over and over is that, well, she takes it seriously, drag is serious to her, she’s better, she’s good at it, she has to be.

in the weeks following, she feels a different kind of shame.

the embarrassment of watching herself try so hard to fuck over someone else is enough to make her shy away from any type of stage for a while. but the reunion and crowning is coming up anyways, and even if roxxxy’s pretty sure she won’t be standing there basking in the glory of being a drag superstar, she still has to sit there on stage and hear the results.

and they’re what she expected; and her smile flickers to life right on cue; and it still hurts so badly, as much as if rupaul looked her in the eye and personally told her you are simply not as worthy as everyone else.

confetti rains from the ceiling. she doesn’t feel the burning resentment that she did when she’d last seen jinkx, but she doesn’t feel any better like this, either. at the afterparty she spends a lot of time taking shots with alaska, the two of them so boxed in by the crowd that they can’t move from the bar (not like either of them are complaining). when roxxxy finally extricates herself, she has no issue finding the person she wants. it’s an unusual subversion, seeing the most colorful person in the room appear in black and white.

hi honey, detox says, you look so pretty, and slips her arm around roxxxy’s waist. roxxxy is far too proud to ask for comfort. instead she says ohmymgod you look friggin’ insane, which doesn’t sound like the compliment she meant it to be, but it’s okay. her intention was there, and understood; and she is here, and understood, and roxxxy laces their hands together. they have their drinks and they look fucking great, and they’re together, and that’s really all she could have asked for.

she smells that perfume again, leans in close and lets the waves of praise encircle her, give her solace.

she is enough.

#rpdr fanfiction #roxxxy andrews #detox icunt #detox x roxxxy #canon compliant #dvious #submission #s5 #on set fic

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amazingflyingdick · 5 years ago

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big wing.

WHO: Dick Grayson @amazingflyingdick & Jason Todd @thatsjasonfkntodd WHERE: The hospital WHEN: Backdated to July 4th, 2020 WHAT: Jason goes to see Dick once he’s awake

Jason: Slade had said he intended to stay with Dick until he woke up, and Jason had taken him at his word that he meant that. Besides, it was complicated for him to go in and out. Dick wasn’t a cop anymore but he had been for a long while, and even if nobody was there on official duty he didn’t want to deal with crossing paths with Jim Gordon or anyone else if they were visiting. Moreover, he just didn’t want to sit there and stare silently while Dick ‘slept,’ with only the monitors to listen to or the occasional voice in the hall. So he hadn’t gone back in the space of time between the night it all went down and the day he woke from the coma. Those had been long days.

Even after Bruce told him Dick was awake, he didn’t know what to expect from that. He hadn’t asked for any details, but had labored over the idea of going back to the hospital for a few hours before actually doing it. He didn’t want to have to navigate other people being there, but figured it was inevitable. It was with some measure of surprise, then, that he didn’t see anyone else through the sliver of window in the door when he moved to open it. Maybe Slade hadn’t stayed after all, or no one else had had the chance to arrive yet. Either way, he pushed his hand back through his hair and opened the door.

“You up?�� Dick: The first day Dick spent in and out of consciousness. It wasn't until later that he was having longer conversations - first with Slade, then with Bruce and the neurologist, who'd asked him a lot of questions. He always had someone right there next to him. Eventually as he managed to stay awake for longer stretches, he tried to assure them both that he could be left on his own long enough for them to eat, or for Bruce to answer a phone call. It was a rare moment of silence when Slade left to see about more blankets and Bruce was called out by another doctor. How many were there? Dick had a hard time keeping track. He'd been introduced to three so far.

Jason's voice made his eyes open and his focus lock on the door. He hadn't asked Bruce about his brothers. There was no reason they should have to be here, standing around him and worrying about whether or not he'd wake up, even though he wanted to see them badly. Just seeing Jason made him instantly remember everything from that night, even though he only managed to recall bits and pieces of that conversation when the doctors asked after it. He'd been confused about where and when they were.

"Yup. About to run a couple laps around the nurse's station," he replied in a hoarse voice, smirking faintly. Jason: Joking was a good sign. The serious moments were the worst ones. They felt final, like a say-it-before-you-can’t thing. He didn’t want another one for a long, long time. “That’ll be pretty with your ass hanging out of the hospital gown.” Was there anything worse than those damn things?

The doctors hadn’t really been able to give them any idea of what to expect when Dick woke up. He’d sort of braced for some kind of memory loss, a shift of some kind, and maybe that was still a possibility. Dick recognized him, though, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. There were a handful of worse case scenarios they’d already avoided. “How’s the hole in your head?”

He didn’t get too close to the bed. Aside from the first time he’d gone into the room after they took Dick there, he’d sort of avoided it. Now that he was awake, Jason sort of had it in his head that Bruce would hopefully get him moved to the manor. If the life saving part was done, the recovery didn’t have to happen at the real hospital, did it? Dick: "Hey, I've been told that's one of my best features." Dick saw how much weight it seemed to take from Slade and Bruce's shoulders when he'd managed a joke. It showed he still had some grip on his facilities if he could demonstrate even a fraction of the quick wit he had before. It didn't come as easily as before, but he tried not to over-analyze why.

Even though Jason wasn't too close to the bed, he had no trouble making him out. His vision was better than it was earlier. That was a good sign, at least. "Which one?" He smiled slightly, his eyes falling closed as he took a deep breath. "Better." They'd given him something for the pain, which made it hard to stay awake. "If I fall asleep on you, it's a total accident. I swear."

He wanted to ask Jason to come closer, wanted to say other things, too, but he resisted the urge to make the moment too serious. "They said I was out for a couple days. How's Roy? Did he go back to work?" Jason: “I’d say it’s pretty overrated.” Jason knew better than most people what a head injury could do to a person. Even after he’d got better from being dead and buried, he definitely hadn’t been himself. He’d been a shell of a person, really, just running on survival instinct with odds and ends of confusing memories floating around that he couldn’t make sense of. The Lazarus Pit had fixed it, but sometimes he still wondered whether or not fixed wasn’t really the right word. In any case, he didn’t expect Dick to just bounce back. He wasn’t optimistic enough for that, anyway.

He dismissed the comment about sleep with a shake of his head. “That’s a convenient excuse. Maybe I’ll use it sometime. If I fall asleep on you it was an accident.” But if he did, Jason would take that as his cue to go. He knew that it was unlikely to just be the two of them for long.

“He was going to, but he took some extra time after...” Jason made a vague gesture toward Dick, “all this. He’s alright. We’re getting there.” Roy had made it through the worst of it, physically, without caving. Dick: "You would say that." The doctors seemed surprised that he was able to respond to questions clearly and without much confusion. It was the questions asking after detail that could get him tripped up. That made Dick feel unnerved and he would get frustrated with his own inability to recall specifics. His memory was never as good as Barbara's, but he'd learned how to retain a lot of information after so many years of practice. It scared him that he could lose that overnight. The doctor reassured him that it was a minor setback that could get better over time, brains made new pathways and all of that, but most of the assurances fell on deaf ears.

Snorting softly, his hand moved against the cool railing. When he'd first woken up his wrists had been restrained. The doctors explained that he kept trying to yank out his IVs. "Now you can't use it on me, because I'll remember you said it." Or would he? Dick didn't let himself linger on it.

Already he'd had the fear that Roy's recovery was put in jeopardy because of this. He winced. "But this didn't... this didn't set him back, did it?" There was no telling how long Jason had been away from the apartment. Roy was so freshly recovered that a relapse was very possible. Jason: “Weirder if I agreed with you.” He didn’t want to spend any amount of time thinking about Dick’s ass. Plenty of other people did that, probably, so he’d leave it to them. If he did manage to make it to the Nurse’s Station eventually, they might appreciate it too.

Jason had to wonder how much of their conversation in the alley that Dick actually remembered. For purely selfish reasons, he hoped that some of it was lost. He’d got a little desperate, a little more sentimental than he would have otherwise, and since Dick had survived...he was fine letting all of that go.

“I don’t think so.” He couldn’t guarantee it. He’d not been as attentive in the days after Dick was shot, but he’d still been there. He’d still spent that time with Roy. He had to believe he would have noticed if he’d backslid. Dick: "Point taken." It was an easy back and forth that took minimal effort on his part. Dick enjoyed the ease in conversation, because it made it easy to forget how desperate Jason had been the night he found him. He hadn't ever heard him sound like that before and he never wanted to hear it again.

But he didn't want to act like it never happened. He didn't want to shelve it, like Bruce would, and bring it out only when it was once again a possibility that they might not ever see each other again.

The news made him relax, but only a little. He wouldn't feel convinced until he saw Roy himself, but he didn't even know when that would be. Jason was the first person to show up outside of Bruce and Slade. He was glad they were here, but he wouldn't pretend there wasn't tension. "Hey," he finally said, his eyes still closed. "You promised you'd go to the circus with me. Don't think I forgot about that." Jason: So much for not remembering those parts. He’d really hoped he forgot the circus part. Jason had been sitting on the story forever. Once in awhile he thought about it, but he’d never told Dick and never really planned to. It was just the only thing that had popped into his head in that moment, and keeping him awake had been more important than protecting some dumb moment with his dad. Still, he felt...the whole thing felt raw. Everything they’d said. That he’d said.

“Must have been a hallucination. Coma dream?” He didn’t even try to sound that convincing about it. The odds of them ever getting enough of a break from the city’s bullshit to go anywhere or do anything seemed pretty small right then, and Dick had a long road ahead of him either way. Dick: Dick sighed faintly, but he didn't argue. Despite the distance between them, his vision was clear enough to take note of Jason's expression and anything else he could read on his face. Not that Jason was easy to read. He wasn't like Tim or Damian, both of them predictable in their insecurities and doubts, and he'd never been particularly receptive to Dick's offers of support.

That wasn't what this was about. Not really. His fingers dug into the bar and he tried to keep his voice light. He had the feeling that if it got too heavy Jason would dash out of the room so fast that he'd be a blur. "Come here, s'not like I'm contagious." Jason: He was right, of course. Dick wasn’t sick. There was no reason for the distance he kept putting between him and the bed. He’d had surgery, his head was properly dealt with. Still, he’d not totally managed to shake the image of what it had been like before. The sight of the gauze immediately running red with blood, Dick’s hair slick and stuck to his head, was something that that kept lingering in his mind. While Roy was in withdrawal, he hadn’t been sleeping for long stretches even when he was in his own bed. The trend continued, and he couldn’t remember the last time that he’d been plagued by such frequent fucked up dreams. So, he’d just avoided looking at very much behind the wires and the monitors.

“Stupid might be contagious,” he offered, but he did take a few steps forward just to avoid having to explain why he hadn’t been. “Hope you enjoyed your big nap.” Dick: Even though Dick had been on the other side of it, it didn't take a lot of imagining for him to think about what it was like for Jason. It wasn't something he should have been left to deal with alone. The fact that Dick had relied on him so heavily to keep it together during that time, even though he'd hardly had another choice, brought a wave of guilt. He knew it couldn't be easy for Jason to be here. Not just because it meant leaving Roy on his own during a time that was still tenuous, but because it kept everything fresh and maybe a little too real.

He had to close his eyes, but he wasn't going to let himself fall back asleep. "Hey..." Dick's throat was thick, but he pushed past the feeling. "I'm sorry." Jason: “The fuck are you sorry for? Getting shot in the head?” It was true that Jason was prone to blaming people things maybe a little unfairly. Rather than lean in to the random chaos of the universe, it was easier to find something or someone to pin it on. He preferred assigning fault and giving his anger some kind of direction. In this case, that assignment went to NOVA. It wasn’t Dick’s to apologize for.

Jason frowned as Dick closed his eyes, but the expression was only there briefly before he’d wiped it away. “It’s over and done.” Dick: Dick didn't know how to explain what he was sorry for, not without risking the possibility that Jason would feel patronized, so he said nothing. Instead he opened his eyes, watching him quietly, and tried not to give away that his vision still blurred around the edges.

There was a sinking feeling in his chest. It left him with an odd heaviness, something he tried to keep out of his voice. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I'll be out of here in no time." Jason: “No you won’t,” Jason said flatly. “I don’t know if you’re saying that for my sake, but I’m not five. You got shot in the head.” And Jason had been shot before. He knew how long it took to recover from even when the wound was somewhere much less alarming. He didn’t have much use for forced optimism. As far as he was concerned, it was a fucking miracle that he’d survived in the first place.

He finally stepped close enough to put his hand on the bar that ran alongside the bed. At least Dick wasn’t restrained anymore. He’d wanted to argue with them about it, but it wasn’t like he was a damn doctor. “You’ll be out when you’re out. But you’re not dead.” Dick: "I'm saying it for my own sake. I hate these places." Dick didn't want to think about being stuck in the hospital. He was already feeling like he wanted to crawl out of his skin. It was a bit of wishful thinking, maybe, but he had to be hopeful. The doctors were suggesting it could be weeks. There was absolutely no way he could keep Slade and Bruce from killing each other for weeks.

No, he wasn't dead, but not even he could brush aside how close he'd been. If the bullet had been a little more to the left, or the right, things could be a lot bleaker than they were right now. "I decided against it. It's like you said, no new members." Jason: “Me too. Always have.” Even though it had still sucked to need it, he’d always been grateful that Bruce had ways of dealing with most injuries at the manor. Alfred could do as much as any nurse, and he had other people on retainer for the rest. Usually. Getting shot like Dick had been...there hadn’t been another option.

“It’s a really exclusive club and we don’t want you so,” he managed a shrug and chewed at the inside of one cheek. “They said you might have some memory loss. Do you?” He wanted real answers, not projections. Dick: Dick didn't like being immobile. Waking up restrained felt like a nightmare. He was afraid to fall back asleep just in case they found it necessary to do it again. The wraps were still fastened to the side of the railings.

"I don't know. Don't think so." Then again, how was he supposed to know if he couldn't remember? "Test me." The thought made the feeling in his chest heavier and tighter all at once. He didn't really want to know the answer, but he knew he had to face it sooner or later. If there were things he'd forgotten, the only thing he could do was try to regain those memories again. Jason: What could he ask him? Dick had remembered the circus comment, so all the short term memory wasn’t gone. “What’s your dumbass nickname for me that I hate?” Of course he said that to Roy about Jaybird too, then ended up missing it when he’d broken things off. Dumb. ‘Little Wing’ was just as bad, probably worse. It had been around for years, though. “When is Alfred’s birthday?” Trick question.

He hesitated for a second, but eventually dragged one of the chairs over toward the bed so he could sit down. He was tired. No, he was past tired. He wanted to take Roy’s suggestion and let someone knock him out with a sledgehammer for awhile. Dick: "Little Wing." Dick didn't miss a beat on that one. There was a vague memory of him saying it in the alley. He'd said it once or twice before then, too, for the first time since Jason's return. The nickname slipped out before he'd thought twice about it. There was no way to take it back later. "None of us know Alfred's birthday," he began hesitantly, but then his brow furrowed. "He won't tell us. So we have to pick we want to celebrate." Oh, no. "...Right? Or did I forget it?"

He took in Jason's face and his obvious exhaustion, frowning. "You look awful." Jason: Jason rolled his eyes at both responses. “Well, the annoying parts are still in tact. And no, you didn’t forget. It’s an eternally unsolved mystery. Alfred is an ancient and immortal being with no birthday.” So he got all the birthdays instead and cake on whatever one of them they picked,

He sat up a little straighter and shrugged. “Says the guy with with a sieve for a head.” What he wasn’t going to do was listen to some lecture about self care from the dude laying in the hospital. Dick: "I passed?" Dick gave him a crooked looking grin, trying to hide the very real relief that flooded him at the realization that he hadn't forgotten half of his life and just didn't realize. "Alfred was here earlier." Alfred had acted completely unperturbed by the situation and had chided Dick for watching TV when he should be resting.

It bothered him that Jason wasn't getting enough sleep, but he knew he'd be doing the same thing if he were in Jason's shoes. Dick always had the habit of overextending himself. Calling Jason out for doing the same thing felt too hypocritical. "You're more like me than you realize. Horrible, I know." Jason: “Sure, you passed a two question test. I’ll send your diploma over tomorrow.” He could’ve come up with some other questions, but if he was being honest he was okay with just accepting the decent outcome from a couple. If Dick had memory issues, he’d find that out on his own. Jason could roll with it not being blind optimism since he’d made effort to prove otherwise.

“Gross. Take it back or I’m leaving right now.” There were worse things in the world, but he wasn’t going to tell him that. He’d done enough admitting, enough vulnerability. It felt like all he’d done was feel raw for two damn months between Dick and Roy and all the rest. Dick: "I guess we could round it up to five, if you have more," Dick offered with a smirk. In all honesty, he was wary of whether or not he'd get more questions right. Avoidance wasn't something he should let himself give into, it was a hollow victory in the end, but it was a hard habit to shake. He didn't like to admit when things might not be just fine. This was already a situation he hadn't been able to handle on his own.

That made him laugh, even though the sound was hoarse. "Where do you think I got the nickname?" Little Wing had come from his own moniker, not Bruce's, because from the beginning he'd seen a lot of himself in Jason. No one knew how it was for Dick in the early years, before he found a place to put his anger. Jason: “Maybe later.” Something might crop up, but he was alright giving him a participation award in the mean time. He hadn’t really gone to the hospital to play a game of trivia about their lives. The motivation for it was morbid even for Jason, and for once he didn’t completely have the stomach for it.

He’d never really asked. The first time Dick had called him that he’d almost liked it, though maybe he’d brushed it off at the time. Later, it had seemed patronizing. Now, it was little more than a joke. “Pulled it out of your ass, I guess. Maybe you should call me Big Wing now.” Dick: Dick nodded. Maybe that was better. Diving into the past with Jason was always risky. Sometimes it was best to leave it alone, even though there were plenty of things he actively remembered from that time. Some of them were good things, but he didn't know if Jason looked at them the same way now.

"You'd need at least another two inches on me." Jason was taller than him and calling him little anything didn't really make sense anymore, but the nickname tended to slip without him even realizing it. He'd never expected to use it again. It sneaked up on him. Jason: "I think I've got the two inches on you elsewhere," he said with a grin, unable to resist the perfect set-up that Dick had given him for the joke. "Not that I'll be asking around." He already knew way too much about private Dick than he'd ever, ever wanted to.

He leaned back a little in the seat. By the looks of him, he wouldn't be awake for long. Jason figured he'd take off when he passed out. Besides, the likelihood of him being alone in that room with him for any real length of time was small. He didn't want to deal with Bruce, and he sure as fuck didn't want to deal with Slade, even if all they had between them was silence like most of the days they'd both been in cells. Dick: "I'd say prove it, but I think I'd rather take you at your word." After the whole discovery in his file, the entire family knew way more about Dick's life than he ever wanted them to. Tim had questions and he didn't mind giving him answers, but he'd always been private about things like that. Jason living at his apartment while Slade dropped in and out had been awkward, even though Dick thought he'd been pretty discreet about it.

The television was off. He felt around for the remote and offered it to Jason. "Find something funny." The last time he woke up it had been playing some documentary on how cotton picking machines worked, which had just made him go right back to sleep. Jason: "That's what I thought." Would he have argued about it if Dick insisted otherwise? Probably. It might have been nice to be a dumbass for a little while, considering where they were and why.

If Jason kept on the TV it was usually just for noise or someone else's sake. He'd spent a lot of mindless hours watching it with Roy as they were wading through the withdrawal symptoms, and when he'd stayed with Dick they'd watched some movies that he did not altogether hate. He'd even enjoyed some. Still, left to his own devices he didn't watch much of it and it took some clicking around before he found something that he caught at the right time to hear a laugh. Some cop show set in Brooklyn. It'd work.

As he sat there, half paying attention and half just letting his mind drift, he felt a buzz in his pocket. Text from Roy. He almost put off answering it until he was ready to leave, but if something was wrong he couldn't ignore it.

hey what about dick's friend. the gold guy? Dick: The cop show reminded him of something he wasn't sure he'd told Jason about yet. "I quit the SCPD," he said quietly, his eyes half open. It was something he'd been considering for some time even before the events of the breakout. After that, he really had little choice but to go through with it. Gordon had shown up to speak to him about the events of the shooting, but he hadn't been able to tell him much, and he avoided the subject of Jason altogether. It was better to pretend that he'd been unconscious from the second the bullet entered his skull.

Jason's phone going off made his eyes open more and he glanced aside at him. "Do you know what happened to my phone?" He asked, even though he hadn't given it much thought until then. "Do you have it? Or Bruce?" Jason: “Yeah...” he wasn’t sure who had found out first, though it was probably, but they’d made the connection between the timing of Dick leaving the force and NOVA sending someone after him. It couldn’t just be a coincidence. “About time. You’ve gotta stop acting like you can be ten different people.” Jason wasn’t one to lecture, but it didn’t take a genius to know that Dick stretched himself far, far too thin.

The message distracted him and he only gave a grunt of “Bruce” in response as Roy answered again. Jason felt his heart skip as he realized who Roy was talking about. As soon as he did, he got to his feet. “Is your friend Josh still in town?”

#c: discord #dick grayson #jason todd

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everyday-is-brighter-with-you · 5 years ago

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the emo story of my 2018 amino profile picture (reposted)

watch me cry about MR sans T. skeleton undertale

‘‘ -------------------This took 2 hours to complete.I used a pencil, sketchpens, a regular pen, a Sharpie, IbispaintX, CamScanner, and Android photo filters.

I made this because..I personally feel like I have to start again. Do something different. The shading in one of the progress pictures is all weird partly because I'm terrible at that stuff right now and partly because I was trying to communicate something really specific at the time of drawing it. The sentiment got lost somewhere along the way, though, so now theres no concrete meaning for this piece.

In this, you can see Sans' face looks hopeless, worn down and tired. I was trying to emulate this expression of his from memory:

Though the blacked out eyes and one-pixel off grin make the current face on him more of an amalgamation with this sprite from the Pacifist ending( when Flowey wraps them all up in vines ):

Anyway. This is..this is pretty much how I've been feeling, a lot of the time. It's something else. Lethargy. Losing your drive. Feeling like times wasting away, and you're stuck in one moment while the world around you goes on.

But, you know what? I'm going to make a change. I'm going to start trying, even if its hard at first. Because I like to believe that its never too late to 'go back'.

Maybe I'm not really 'going back' though. Maybe its called 'going forward'..while finally acknowledging the road that goes back. Being the best you can be.

So, it'd make more sense for me to draw Sans doing something more positive, like sitting in a buttercup field or letting raindrops patter his face, right? Why did I create a sketch that looks like a void is trying to eat him up?

And the answer to that is...I don't know. Heh heh.

You can interpret this any way you like. Maybe the blurry black static-like circle and the melting darkness behind him represents breaking out of something. Maybe it represents being agonized by that something hovering in the background. Maybe it represents nothing at all, and maybe that interpretation represents something to someone too. Its the beauty of art, isnt it?

I wonder what Sans would think? Probably that I'm kind of a weird kid. Its okay, as long as he doesn't joke about "befriending" my mom again in the upcoming chapters. Then that'd be a little bit hypocritical.

Oh wow, can you believe I actually I wrote these whole big emotional paragraphs for the guy who pulled a goddamn whoopee cushion on you 2 times?

Undertale Fandom, I feel solmenly obliged to ask you this one, very, very important question: What the heck?

--------

‘‘

GOD VBSJBHGVBRE 2018 ME HENLO R U ALRIGHT

ALSO IVE CHANGED MY SANS DESIGN SINCE THIS LMAO......

#ANSWER: NO BUT I WAS TRYING JUST LIK CURRENTLY LOL #sans #undertale #my art #old art #I WAS REALLY WORDY ON AMINO. MOST PPL ARE SINCE THEY WANT THEIR POST TO GET FEATURED

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freddiesaysalright · 6 years ago

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My Man Part IX

A Ben!Roger Taylor x Reader Fic

Summary: Reader is a Broadway actress currently starring in a West End production of Funny Girl. She’s a widow, thanks to the Vietnam War, but it’s a well-kept secret. She also wants everyone to think she doesn’t care for rock music. She met Roger Taylor when he brought his date backstage. They didn’t start off great, but a party at Freddie’s turned them around. Now, they’re friends. After she was attacked by a director, Roger is there for her. Then she gets a surprise visitor with some wise words for her. Her brother and her director drop some bombs on her. After getting a role in a new show in order to stay in London, she gets closure after her attack and is ready to take a big step with Rog.

Word Count: 1.5K (sorry it’s a short one!)

A/N: SMUT! My first time writing it so like...idk if it’s any good but I hope you enjoy! The important part is at the end.

Tag List: @bohemian-war @kittygirlno @rebelrebelyourefaceisamess @rockyroadthepastryarchy, @goodoldfashionedloverboyy, @jennyggggrrr, @discodeacygotmorerhythm, @x1975sos, @slytherinxval, @cyndagoaway, @doingalrightt, @lovvliies, @hopefully-aesthetically-pleasing, @capsparrowtara @they-call-me-peaches, @hyosong, @riddikuluslypotter, @orchideax, @shishterfackisback Let me know if you’d like to be added!

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII

Part IX let’s go!!!

When you got back to your flat, Roger kissed you hard as soon as the door clicked shut. You gasped in surprise, but his lips swallowed it. You buried your fingers in his hair and pulled him impossibly closer to you. You quickly became a mess of hot breath, wet lips, and quick touches of skin. Roger pulled back and looked intently at you.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he said.

You felt yourself flush at the words as the heat began to build in your tummy. You grabbed his shirt and pulled him back, eager for contact. You felt his hardness against your leg and you had to bite back a sigh.

“I want you,” you replied. ��Now.”

“You sure you’re ready?” he wondered, cradling your face in his hands. “I don’t want to frighten you.”

You nodded eagerly. “You could never frighten me, Roger Taylor. I trust you.”

You did. With your life, with your body, and with your heart.

He wasted no time in returning his lips to yours, and he pushed you up against the wall. He swiped his tongue across your lower lip for permission to enter. You opened your mouth to grant it, and at the same time, he ground his hips into yours from his spot between your legs. You groaned into his mouth.

When he needed air, he pulled back but moved to your neck, leaving a tail of soft kisses and gentle nips until he found a spot by your ear that made you gasp and shiver. You were so sensitive since it had been so long. You could already feel your underwear getting soaked. You were sure Roger could feel it too against his leg but you didn’t care. You figured he enjoyed it. Desperate for more, you took his hand and placed it on your breast.

He chuckled against your throat and whispered, “Someone’s needy.”

“Shut up,” you breathed back.

You reached for the buttons on his shirt and began undoing them, slowly because Roger’s hands and lips were such a distraction. You pushed it over his shoulders and onto the floor, and then took a moment to admire his body. He smirked as your pupils dilated with lust. It wasn’t an expression he’d ever seen on you before and he liked that he created it. He started to give your blouse the same treatment, but he was taking the buttons at a glacial pace in your opinion.

“Oh, fuck the buttons,” you huffed and reached down to pull the thing over your head and toss it to join Roger’s. Your bra followed right after.

Roger sighed at the picture of you, panting and ready for him. But he only waited a moment before taking a hardened nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. You moaned and latched on to his hair again. He took your other breast in his hand and kneaded it gently and you felt like electricity was coming from his palms.

“Fucking perfect tits,” he said as his lips grazed the skin in the valley between your breasts. “So beautiful.”

“Roger,” you sighed in return. “Bedroom.”

Without hesitation, he grabbed you by the ass and carried you, laughing, into your bedroom. When he lay you down, you took hold of his belt to try and unbuckle it, but he stopped you. You shot him a confused glance.

“Let me treat you,” he said. “It’s been a while for you and I want you to be ready for me.”

You pouted a little and he groaned.

“You can jerk me off another time,” he said.

You shook your head. “That wasn’t what I had in mind.”

“Fuck,” he said and swallowed thickly. “You’re a naughty little thing. But still, another time. Tonight’s for you.”

You laid back down and allowed him to continue. He found the zipper on the side of your skirt and pulled it down. You lifted your hips so he could yank the skirt down you legs and chuck it to the side. You made quick work of your panties, to his immense pleasure. He let his hands glide over your thighs and you writhed beneath him, impatient.

“Shh,” he said. “I’m gonna take care of you, baby girl, just enjoy it.”

You couldn’t help but wriggle again. You were aching for him, and you could see his own arousal in his jeans. It had to be driving him just as crazy and you wondered how he was controlling himself. He pressed his lips to your lower thigh, and made his way slowly up the inside of it. He skipped over where you needed him most, but he did blow a little air over it, which caused you to dig your heels into the mattress.

“Roger,” you whined and you heard him chuckle.

“God, I love it when you say my name,” he replied.

“Roger, please!”

He sank a finger into you and you groaned with relief. His thumb found your clit and rubbed soft circles on it as his finger teased your g-spot. Your breath caught in your throat and you clung desperately to his arms.

“So good for me,” he said as he watched you jerk beneath him. “So fucking beautiful.”

You couldn’t form words. The coil in your belly tightened as he continued his ministrations. You bucked your hips for more friction, and then Roger held them down. You whined a little in protest, but fuck it felt good. You felt yourself pulsing around him.

“You gonna cum, baby girl?” he asked, growling in your ear. “Gonna cum around my fingers?”

You could only nod before it happened. You came completely undone and cried out his name once again as you rode out your orgasm on his hand.

“You’re so beautiful,” he praised, kissing you again as he pulled his fingers out. “You want my mouth?”

“No,” you panted. “No, Roger, I need you inside me. Just fuck me, please.”

He smirked, which you ignored and you once again went for his pants. He beat you to his belt, but you cupped him through his jeans. He groaned at the feeling. You let go to let him finish undressing. You admired his body again as he did so. His cock sprung out and you bit your lip with anticipation.

“C’mere, baby girl,” he whispered and he kissed you again.

He slid inside you. You both moaned as you connected and he filled you up. When he bottomed out inside you, he held still for a moment so you could adjust. He fit so well and you felt incredibly sexy.

“Move, baby,” you said.

He obeyed, starting with a slow, even pace. He pulled almost completely out before thrusting back in. You picked up his rhythm and bucked to match him, coming together at your hips. One of his hands grabbed a breast while the other found your clit again and you wondered if you could last with him touching you that way. You moaned again, and wrapped your arms around his neck. He twitched inside you as you built up speed, and every snap of his hips reminded you what you were a part of: us, us, us, us.

You found yourself out of breath as your second climax arose. Your hands raked down his back as you held on tight. You heard a rumble in his chest as he pressed on, and his finger started making hard and fast circles on your clit. He was as close as you were.

“Want - ” he began but had to moan. “Want you to cum first.”

“I’m there, Rog,” you whined. “Nearly there.”

With a little more pressure, you released again, pulsing around his cock. Your finish sent him over the edge and you felt him let go inside you. Your chest heaved as you came down, breathless and trembling. He kissed you all over your face - your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, your cheeks. Then he just held you close, resting his forehead against yours as you both began to relax. When both your breathing evened out, he rolled over to lie next to you.

You rested your head on his chest and looked up at him. “Roger Taylor, I want you to know that as of now there is no one in the world who has a higher opinion of you than I do.”

He laughed wholeheartedly and cupped your face in his hands. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” you returned.

“Really,” he said, sitting up on his elbow so he could look at you. “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

You pressed your lips to his chest. “I really love you too, Roger. So much.”

You couldn’t match his sentiment about more than anyone else. You had loved George just as much. Roger was different, though.

“Y/N,” he said, taking you out of your thoughts. “I meant what I said before. I want you to move here permanently.”

You sighed. “That’s a really big thing to do,” you reminded him. “I don’t know if I can commit to something like that for a boyfriend.”

“What if I wasn’t your boyfriend?” he asked.

“Are you gonna break up with me?” you wondered, frowning.

“No,” he chuckled. “I mean...what if I was your husband?”

You felt your heart skip a beat.

“What?”

“Y/N, let’s get married.”

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ala-mhinyan · 5 years ago

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IV :: Shifting Blame

C’arha lay lounged across the cushions of her sanctuary with a thin blanket wrapped around her legs; dressed in little but a white shawl. C’tolemy had draped himself partially across the couch and half the floor, his head propped on the edge of the cushion and his cousin’s thigh, himself wearing nothing but while silk pants. They were comfortable with the skinship, having had little privacy growing up in hollowed out caverns and among the desert sun in little more than wraps and slings. The runt was running her fingers through her cousin’s lovely hair, eyes closed and basking in the warm rays that filtered in through the windows surrounding them.

C’tolemy, not so relaxed, is too busy staring holes into the wall flush with greenery and flowers. He fidgets slightly when small fingers tug at the edge of his ear, grunting when that tug gets more forceful. “Cut it out.” Is his reply, murmuring out sharply in Sun Speak.

“Why? You’re the one sulking. What is bothering you, my prince?”

He grumbles more and she giggles softly, dragging those fingers through his long locks in fond little strokes. There is no prodding to get him to talk, there never is—from either side. If he’s going to speak up then he will; if not? Oh well. The silence drifts between them, comfortable and settling as Arha tilts her head back into the pillow just a little more.

“Does… it ever bother you, princess?”

“Does what ever bother me?”

A nervous gulp, “The desires we have?”

Arha’s gaze shifts languid from the window to the top of her cousin’s head, fingers having stopped their gentle strokes to rest in the wild mane. She watches him flinch and lean into her hand, instinctively keeping that hand busy with more petting.

“Desires in regard to what, my prince?”

He grunts and grumbles; she laughs aloud this time. He’s such a child when he’s wrapped up in his feelings.

“You know… The things you are scared to tell them. What if they look at us differently? More than they already do?”

The runt sighs, her hand falling still once more. “Is this about your love life?”

Tolemy flinches. Arha laughs again—the fond little petting continues on as if she had never stopped.

“Eorzeans and those beyond will never see us the way we see each other, brother. There are too many differences. What we see as important are things that are needless and pointless to them. We will never be able to be truly accepted there, for our beauty is not beauty in their eyes. You see the way they look at us. How they think of us. It is just the way it is, my prince.”

His ears falls and press back against his skull, knowing his soul sister’s words to be true. But… something inside pulls and he can’t help the words that fall from his lips. “But what about Maahii and Sayahii? They accept me.”

“But do they know you, my prince? Do they know the songs, the dances, the food, our tongue, our breath, our life?”

“That is impossible for them to know! I am teaching them—showing them one thing at a time about our culture. Maybe then it will be easier to bridge the gap.”

Arha’s gaze turns hard, her words as sharp as a blade at his throat. “We have done this song and dance before, my prince. Do you want to make that gamble one more time? We showed them our hearts, on full display, to give them a home within ourselves and our blood and what happened?! Do they ever go without our prodding? Do they ever question about our festivals or traditions or things that mean our very blood? Or do they judge our traditions? Call it old-fashioned and remind us, day in and day out, that OUR home is hell to them? We will not be so foolish as to make this mistake a second time. Not again.”

Her tone rankles something within, the man pulling away sharply from her fingers to stare daggers into her in return. “Our home IS HELL! Sister mine, you cannot tell me that their feelings are unfounded! They aren’t comfortable in our home because our home is hell! Why would they look there for someplace safe when it has turned US into… THIS!” He gestures at all of himself.

“WHY WOULD THEY WANT THIS!?”

“I KNOW!”

She snarls at his glare, rage flaring in her veins at the words he speaks. “I KNOW! You don’t think I know?! Tolemy, we are MONSTERS! You know this!” Her voice cracks, anguish bubbling between each word that comes from her lips. “We are broken, wounded, on-fire beasts that are scavenging to live. We are creatures not meant to be confined in too small spaces, fit to roam the wilderness and live under the stars. We do not belong in cities. We do not belong in buildings or homes or there! We… We belong on sand… with spires and griffins and coeurl at our side. It is where it is easier.”

“Safer.”

A pause.

“But is that where we want to be, my princess? That may be home, with its dances and songs and food and life… But is that the home we want? You’re right—we don’t belong in cities or buildings or homes… But we do belong in hearts. We—We have the right to that much, don’t we?”

Arha turns her gaze away, looking blankly toward the windows where the warmth sits in waiting. She focuses on that, wanting the comfort that only the sun can give in times like these.

“You… You said it yourself, did you not? Why would they want this?” She gestures to the whole of herself.

He drops his gaze to his hand and slumps his head right back against the cushion. The man’s expression has veered from frustrated to exhausted and wounded, knowing he has no ground to stand on.

“We know better to believe otherwise. It’s been proven, time and time again. We don’t deserve anything else than what we have now—it is why we do not ask. Why we do not want. Because we are undeserving.”

“...They would say otherwise.”

“They will be the ones to prove we are.”

Tolemy winces, the stake being driven deeper and deeper into his chest. It aches and he wants to cry out; to vent this frustration and pain by howling to the moon. But the moon cannot change fate, nor can the sun. They are left to this… And there is nothing they can do about it.

Silence stretches on for too long, the words tunneling within the both of them so deeply that it springs a silent well. Arha doesn’t bother to brush away the hot tears that run down her face, staring vacantly at the windows. Tolemy tries feebly to brush away his own, skin feeling as if it’s been lit aflame by how much he burns and aches. Finally, he speaks up.

“But—I want for so much.”

“So do I.”

“Why were we born if we are never supposed to want—When all we have ever done… is want?”

The runt stares bitterly at the ceiling, her free hand having clenched tightly into a fist at her side. Her voice is hoarse, cracking toward the end as a sob leaks out.

“Life is cruel, is it not? I’ve learned it matters not how I feel toward the matter. The end result is always the same; We. Are. Undeserving. The sooner we toss aside these feelings this strange land and it’s people have been trying to change in us, the sooner it goes back to being a pain we can stomach. A cut that doesn’t bleed.”

Tolemy’s vacant gaze shifts upward to peer at his cousin, throwing an arm up over the couch to pull her closer into a half hug. He buries his face into her side and she returns the sentiment by hooking her arm around his shoulders and turns to curl into his shoulder. They cry together, freely. It’s the only place it’s safe to.

“Together?” He breathes.

“Together.” She echoes.

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

#my writing #ffxiv #ffxivwrite2019 #c'arha #c'tolemy #tidbits #this one wouldn't come out till i was ready to sleep

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thehazefilmreview-blog · 5 years ago

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Star Wars The Rise of Skywalker, Or; The Illusion of higher threats

The Earth turns, the sun rises, cancerous cells spread through the body slowly destroying the immune system eventually leading to terminal organ failure; and Disney releases a new Star Wars film. Yes, The Rise of Skywalker is here and while watching it, I echoed the remarks that director and writer J.J. Abrams (Star trek (2009), Star Wars: The Force Awakens (2015)), expressed in an interview with Vanity Fair prior to releasing the film: “Fuck it”.

Now, with that sentiment I in no way mean to say that The Rise of Skywalker is a terrible film. The cast and crew are extremely competent and lots of talented individuals worked on the movie. Abrams and co had quite the ordeal when The Last Jedi (Rian Johnson, 2017) divided most fans on the subject of which direction should this newest Star Wars trilogy should go. And I'm Happy to report that Abrams did the safest thing that anyone could have done under these circumstances, and produced a film that shouldn’t leave a bad taste in most people's mouths, yet also fails to leave any long lasting or unique impression at all.

Now, if you’re reading this and you think The Last Jedi can do no wrong, (in which case; Hello Rian Johnson, what are you doing here? I quite liked Knives Out), then The Rise of Skywalker will certainly feel like a film that counters everything its predecessor set out to accomplish in favor of a far more straight forward Good vs Evil, Final battle (safe) ending to a franchise, and with all jokes aside, I do consider a film such as The Last Jedi to be a superior film in the way of themes and story ideas. Rian Johnson had a vision for a Star Wars Film that would shake the foundation of an old familiar universe, and J.J. Abrams said “Fuck it. I’m going to do the thing that feels right because it does, not because it adheres to something” and then Disney gave him a very large amount of money then asked him to write in different coloured storm troopers with cool axes for a new toy range they’re going to release.

The film’s plot centers around our characters trying to locate our saga fan favorite villain, The Emperor (played loving hammy by Ian McDiarmid), who has supposedly still alive and has been pulling the strings in the background over the last two films. straight off the bat this point screams Abram’s “Fuck it” approach to The Rise of Skywalker, instead of developing its new villain further (Snoke from the previous film, or Kylo Ren portrayed by Adam Driver), it decides to bring back an old villain to try to fill the “generic Evil person” shaped hole in the middle of the script. Also returning is the theme from The Force Awakens (J.J. Abrams, 2015) of Rey’s identity and what her real lineage is; again, a plot idea that seems as if Abrams is trying to connect this new saga with the safe original trilogy without the risk of bringing too many new ideas.

The story jumps forward at a break-neck speed from beat to beat and doesn't really want you to think too much about what you've just seen, which leads me to what I really want The Rise of Skywalker to remembered as; a tool to show people how not to write threats in your stories (or as an example on why you should probably plan a trilogy from the very start and not have someone come in the middle meaning you has to retcon that shit). The Rise Of Skywalker, in script and story terms, is trying to trick the audience into believing this is the threat of all threats for the final film in this trilogy series, but the film fails to truly raise the stakes that we set out in the original Star Wars IV A New Hope (George Lucas, 1977) by making the solution to this final problem so much easier in comparison. I call this theory The Illusion of Higher Threats (registered trademark, do not steal).

The illusion of higher threats is the idea that, in story and screenwriting terms, an event is held up as being of higher importance and a harder mission for our character then previously encountered (I.e. in previous films or stories), but the threats solution is much more simplified that the “larger threat” title is null and void as the solution is easier than what are protagonists had to endure the first time around, thus not increasing the stakes from the previous adventure/story line. In the context of The Rise Of Skywalker (without giving too much away of the ending), the films script seems woefully devoid of increasing threat since A New Hopes’ Death Star back in 1977, with Abrams and Co attempting to trick the audience into believing the this encounter with the Emperor is somehow far more dangerous and grandiose without really earning it or allowing the audience adequate time to actually think about what is going on in the script. Abrams needs to be sat down and reminded that sometimes: less is more.

Overall, the film looks brilliant (but with $275 Million pumped into it, that’s no surprise), and has some nice performances from our main characters. But the film feels so distracting with how it tries so desperately to get away and retcon elements introduced by Johnson and George Lucas with his prequel Star Wars trilogy, that the film comes off as disingenuous and pulled out of nowhere rather than someone's passion project or carefully planned, interesting addition to a franchise; feeling satisfying to some, but soulless in design.

Grossman, Lev . (2019). Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, The Ultimate Preview. Available: https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2019/05/star-wars-cover-story. Last accessed 04th Jan 2020.

#star wars #film review #the rise of skywalker #jj abrams #hazereviews

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arkus-rhapsode · 7 years ago

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Eden’s Zero Chapter 1 Review

Hey guys, now before I dive into this already longer than usual review, I did wanna take this time to mention something. Its been no secret that I turned on Mashima and FT pretty hardly after the end of FT and some of you may be aware that I was moderately active in the fanbase with putting out my reviews and such. That said some may liken that shift in mentality to me not liking how the story went and a common critique of fans is that when what they’re fans of doesn’t gel with what they want they wanna destroy it. As if the fan has ownership of the source of the fanaticism.

I admit there are times that I’ve question decisions on Hiro Mashima’s end and has posted rewrites, but that’s not me doing it out of a sense of ownership. I’m doing it because I have a standard. Being a fan of something and letting your disappointment get to you and fester into salty, bitchy purest is one thing, but being a person who’s judging what a series puts out and actually caring about the quality of what’s in the popular media is important. FT got negative reviews in its latter half because it was that bad. By the end of the series it was legit that bad. Now I don’t say that is someone who was in the fanbase and hated Hiro’s decisions cause they weren’t mine, I hated them because it was bad writing. I’m a reader with standards, as are all of you, and in the digestion of media we make distinctions between good and bad. I make this claim with more concrete surety now that I’ve been around longer and have reviewed more series than just FT, I think it be harder to believe if I made this case when I was just starting and all I was talking about at the time was FT.

Some of you might remember when I first started out on MHA, my second chapter I ever reviewed I had found it boring and mundane and to date its my least popular MHA review and I still stand by that assertion. I hold everything to the same standard, and that includes FT. The reason I write this is that while throughout this review I will mention comparison’s to FT’s first chapter (and yes, even ways Eden’s Zero improved on it), but I will be holding it to the same standard. So this entire review won’t be me holding a grudge against Hiro, but it will be me holding it to the same standard as I do everything I read. That out of the way lets dive in.

We open on a hill side and met our MC named Shiki. Beside him is the mecha demon from the cover page and what they see is a... dragon. Yeah, Hiro I thought you wanted this to be wholely original?

On the hand I actually like this scene in the sense robo demon here is actually encourging actual adventure (something FT lacked) and its kinda amazing listening to this demon looking guy talking about friendship, yet on the other hand, damnit Hiro. Is this the only thing how to write about? Like damn man.

We cut to the future where we see our main female Lucy-I mean Rebecca! Y’know I could make a Rebecca from One Piece joke, but she’s kinda already a bit of a decisivee figure so I’m not gonna bother.

I mean its okay. Its just castle theme park. Also Rebecca we find out is apparently a youtuber. Look if DBS can have GodTube then I can put up with Blue Cate (Aoneko) website. Also yeah Happy here, no sugar coating its just Happy. Also Rebecca here purposely made her skirt short. Just because you point out the sexualization in canon doesn’t make it better, ya still drew it, Hiro.

We see that the theme park is full of robots and each one acts as an assist in sending the guest through some kind of medieval simulator. And if anyone has seen Westworld you know where this is heading. To be fair I love worldbuilding so please, explore!

So we find out Rebecca’s dream is to have one million suscribers and now here’s where I gotta give props to Hiro because he actual made a dream for a character that doesn’t seem like it can be achieved a chapter from now. Granted this seems a bit hard to actually quantify, but this dream could potenially evolve into something of why she wants the suscribers and could be like Nami making the map of the world that getting video of unknown locations may actually be worth something to the general population.

We see that Rebecca chooses to go on a monster hunting quest and they encounter...

...This thing. Also it seems Rebecca’s character quirk is she really likes cats I guess? But this doesn’t last long as someone crashes down on mecha cat.

Okay that was kinda funny. I mean if this was FT would’ve actually gotten the panty shot so maybe Hiro has learned his lesson! Also note that wrench!

Oh god damnit Hiro. So this tarzan guy after acting like an animal is knocked out by Rebecca. Y’know it took about 60 chapters before Natsu got all up in Lucy’s chest, guess we’re cutting straight to the chase here.

Okay is joke with here just going be about here short skirt? Damning it with faint praise here, but at least he still hven’t flashed us them yet. Also Tarzan here is the only human on the island.

We get some scenes of Shiki here wanting to be friends with Rebecca cause she’s a human and Rebecca isn’t interested and she returns to the Granbell town where Shiki is there and the robots know who he is.

Shiki’s expressions and creepy advances really gives off this tinge of sci-fi horror, unfortunate Hiro doesn’t really go that route and we’ll get to it. Also that wizard looking robot from the color page is also here.

They then have a party where the robots all celebrate them having a costumer for the first time in so long they have a party being nice to Rebecca and lavishing her with stuff outside is robot that looks like Robin Hood and he reports to his boss this machine king.

Oh look, Hades if he was a robot.

We see Shiki trying to bond with Rebecca and it leads to him expressing he wants to leave the kingdom and see another country, but we also learn he’s in charge of fixing this and the robots are acting up lately. We find out that the one who was talking to Shiki and is his “Grandfather” was called the Demon King a robot designed for playing that role in the park.

Umm Rebecca... That’s being a dick. So you don’t like it, so you decide to cut it, cause it bothers you. You could’ve framed it like, “If he fixes you up then maybe he needs better vision” or “He’s been so nice to me, let me do something for him.” And what makes this worse s that Shiki is asleep, so she doesn’t even consult his feelings. Like seriously, that’s not being a good friend . But for contrivances sake I’m sure Shiki will wake up and love it, won’t he?

Huh? I was wrong instead we got shitty 80s comedy. I don’t know if that’s better or worse.

Y’know I said I’d give Hiro atleast two free fanservice moments for his first 3 chapters. He’s now used all of them up in a single chapter. Also Rebecca is tied to a stake while robots with torches surround her along with the machine king.

Shiki is also there and here’s something that did remind me of rave, the tightness of the first chapter. Everything seems to flow like one continuous story and doesn’t seem to do some dumb interlude like FTs first chapter did with that awkward moment where Lucy leaves Natsu and she’s just randomly in the park reading.

The King wants to use her ship to leave this world and we get som kind of motivation out of him.

Oh wow, for a first chapter villain that’s actually a really deep thing to unload. That as amusment park hosts they must’ve just been seen as pleasure tools and with no one around these robots who seem to be senstinent must’ve felt betrayed and...

Oooooor you cut out all moral ambiguity by just saying they have a virus. Sure. Trust me, this is where it gets stupid really stupid. And that’s the inconsistency.

So these robots I guess are like the ones from the Animatrix where they just kinda develop sentience out of nowhere. But unlike Animatrix it doesn’t seem to imply when they developed this sentience and that they began to think they were being abused.

Tired of Friendship already, it ain’t leaving.

So why do you hate humans? They abandoned you I guess, but there’s not other robot saying “hey our times were fun together” no everyone is like they left us to rot so we hate them. Not like Humans did anything legitimate bad. We actually see that at the end of the chapter that there is some sort of central battery on the park that all robots are hooked up to. You could make their reason for hating humans that. That even though they left these sentiment robots still had a little kingdom to themselves, but realized that its all just going to end one day and humans didn’t even bother to unplug them. They’re existence is literally knowing when they’ll die, imagine that as why they harbor negative emotions and maybe Shiki actually fixing things might’ve actually been prolonging their lives so maybe that be why they kept him around. This whole sentience things just feels like Hiro wanted to do a trope of crazy robots and ended using multiple to fit the whatever story purpose at the moment.

You do run the planet, dumbasses. This entire plane, apparently for hundreds of years, has been solely controlled by you. Maye this should be rephrased as, going to the place that built you to get revenge or as I spoiled with the battery we’ll take the ship to get more power for our kingdom?

Shiki doesn’t do anything and kinda lets the robots just wail on him as he found out all things in his life were a lie. Then Rebecca gives a friendship speech. A stupid stupid friendship speech.

You’re right, Rebecca! Too bad we didn’t see that. I’m serious we barely see memories of Shiki with any robot outside of the demon king and Michael so there’s no weight to this conflict. We only get the vague sense they raised hm, but there’s no moments of Shiki really laughingg and enjoying their company outside of the party with Rebecca which rather is made more for getting Shiki to like Rebecca for this moment.

Shiki remembers what his Grandpa the Demon King said and just blows them all away.

We see Shiki’s hand and apparently he has these marks indicating he has Ether gear. The power system of this series.

You’re sentiment! You have out grown your programming! You can choose to have a concept of friendship.

So they fight with shitty action scenes (If I can give Horikoshi a hard time for how he draws his fight choreography, then I sure as hell will give Hiro the once over.) Happy manages to save Rebecca and like Happy from early FT, he basically spots off exposition on powers.

So is it like a literal gear? Because Happy afterward destincties as the Gear of Gravity, so is it like a devil fruit? Is ether in all humans, but this specific gear brings it out in a certain way? If its internal then I guess its like the magic circuits from Fate? And then every of has their own unique variation like Nen? Like cause Happy gives it the distinction of Gravity it doesn’t seem like Shiki gives a reason why he has this power. I’m hoping \its like devil fruits, literal gears you implant and then it brings out your ether in a certain way.

Shiki punches out the machine king and cause a massive collapse.

Credit where credit is due, Hiro actually did build up the reveal of this power throughout the chapter and its actually really well done. Kinda reminds of something Oda would do with subtly building up a devil fruit power without revealing it. Like Crocodile drying out a flower but it isn’t stated his power is specifically sand.

They then flee when the other robots rally and Shiki takes Rebecca back to her ship.

This scene would actually be really nice if we actually saw more young shiki actually having fun with the machines and not a being a creeper with them.

Shiki and Rebecca take off and we see the universe.

Not gonna lie, that’s a really pretty shot. Like damn, I could get behind this.

It seems like worlds in this universe are basically like kingdom hearts worlds. They’re not real “worlds” so much as they are islands in space.

Sure, keep the mystery alive why don’t you, no that be too much.

Well great place to end the chapter. Little dry of a first story, but I definetly see that has room for improvment and there is something-Wait this isn’t the last page? But what else is there to talk about. There’s nothing left-

Oh for fuck sake. That’s right they were trying to send SHiki away. Because apparently these robots thought there was no way to restore battery life even if stayed.

Here’s a tip, ifyou really care, and had such a close bond, maybe tell him to leave? Tell SHiki the truth that you guys are tied to a battery and instead of Shiki vowing to leave for the stars so he can make 100 friends (I’m not kiding that’s his actual goal here). Then this would be an interesting goal.

But no, you have to act like human hating jackasses and shatter the boy’s entire reality, just so you he would go out and “change the universe”

This would be a really nice scene with a very nice amount of character development starting point, if we actually saw their past. All we know is they raised Shiki, but its never really seemed like they’re loving or caring or Shiki openly gets upset if one of them had a problem. Again the biggest flaw with this chapter is that it sacrifices seeing one potentially interesting relationship (Shiki and the robots) for another one (Rebecca).

So we end on this page which reveals that Shiki’s goal is to have a hundred friends. Not going to say something snarky I just realized this is the same motivation as Yuki from future diary. Like before the crazy yandere shit.

Post Chapter follow up:

Lets be positive and look at the good stuff in this chapter. The first thing great about this chapter is it improved upon two of the biggest failings in the first chapter FT. Goals established and world building. Not only does this set up force Hiro Mashima to actually world build (literally) but each person in the first chapter has a goal that doesn’t seem like it can be accomplished quickly. It means we can have investment in the story.

Another thing I’ll give is Shiki is an okay MC. He has more personality than Natsu, but not as much as Haru and this first chapter is about him. Its easy to understand that Lucy is often considered the MC of FT because it literally focuses on her for the story than Natsu. But this chapter had a healthy balance.

Also the power system at least seems to have some definition. Unlike how anyone could have magic yet normal people just don’t choose to use it like in FT. Ether Gear seems to be a powersource that only a select few can use. Now we need to see first if there are ways of combating it like technology or such so a non ether gear person can still fight.

It also has its own unique aesthetic. Ft is a pretty generic fantasy world. It doesn’t have the bleakness of bereserk or the Japanese aesthetic of naruto. You could say Black CLover, Fairy Tail, and Seven Deadly sins all had their first chapter happen in the same world and I’d have trouble arguing it.

Now on to the crappy stuff. This series suffers from the usual Mashima foibles such as the sexual harassment, the stupidly way it tries to justify and give all conflict happy ending, not actually bothering to have a situation drawn out ad built up too, etc. I mean for the first conflict of the chapter its a heavy one, these guys raised SHiki yet their own mentality is against humans so Shiki has to choose, but instead of actually answering that question, it turns out there was no real conflict and the machines were just faking.

As for my like for Shiki, I flat hate Rebecca. She is so pointless and useless. Look I will defend Lucy and she actually can d things. First chapter she saved Natsu by using aquarius. But Rebecca? She’s just all of the bad traits of post timeskip Lucy. She is used for pointless fanservice, does nothing contribute, and becomes a mouth piece for friendship.

Speaking of friendship as a concept and goal here, Hiro just rewrite what you mean. Have deeper meaning than friends for once. There is ways you could take the motivation “I want to make 100 friends” in a compelling way. Prehaps Shiki is going out to make his own world where he can make a happy place for people where they can laugh and cry in harmony. Like story telling wise its pretty weak.

Like me personally, I would’ve taken the first chapter like this, the robots are sentinet and they are nice to Shiki and Rebecca and they have genuine fun together. They gradually reveal that they are shutting down maybe one starts acting wonky and tries to hide it and maybe the machine king is the real bad guy. He has sentinece and hates humans and he wants to eliminate SHiki and Rebecca and that’s because they’re shutting down. The other robots say they don’t care they were abandoned, they were mad at first but Shiki showed them that why they loved catering to humans. King and Shiki fight and they all reveal they’re shutting down and Shiki cries he doesn’t want them to go. The robots say its inevitable and they don’t hpw to recharge the battery and Shiki vows to leave the planet and search for a power source to bring them all back. Then that’s shiki’s goal and it even can cause questions like “Is it worth all this for machines?” or “who designed them maybe we can figure out the right substance to power them up?”

or if Hiro wanted to go a more darker route. Have the machines have no sentience and literally be dolls for the King who turns out to be a human who stayed here on Granbell and made his own little kingdom. Make it a bit meta on how Shiki’s only friends were just hollow imitations of people who were only friends because that’s what their programming dictated and they can all be switched off. It be meta as critiquing Ft and how all the guild characters basically had no conflicts, all got along, and were just friends with no depth or reason.

This all highlights the issue with Hiro Mashima and that’s he is not a good a writer. Hiro is an incredibly talented person and can come up with incredibly unique ideas and looks, which is why his cover pages are the best things he puts out because its him free forming. But writing. He has a limited scope on that and stuff like sci-fi and fantasy can be very morally grey things. But Hiro doesn’t seem to understand tragedy in the sense that its tragic because a person fails or dies unsatisfied. But he only seems to know how to write painfully obvious concepts like “save the world” or “friendship” instead doing a concept like “what it is to be a hero” like MHA does which can have a variety of answers to it.

So what’s the final verdict? Well I actually am going to do something different than usual. I’m going to say what I though the quality was compared to FT and then to what I’d consider this work compared to anything else.

In comparison to FT, Eden’s Zero gets a Final verdict of 8/10

Improves on a lot of FT’s first chapter flaws

Created a more unique environment for a story

And actually has a lot tighter narrative

But in comparison to everything else...

Final Verdict: 5/10

Even if it wasn’t Hiro, its a pretty generic start (some names aren’t even all that inspired like Machine King, Demon King)

Potential to grow into something better is there

Nothing is outright offensive

Cool concept

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the-velociruby · 6 years ago

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Earnest Discussions with Velo C. Raptor, #1

My Experiences with Bumbleby

I wanna try expressing my opinions & opening up a little bit here, if no one minds. This’ll be a first in a bunch of personal discourses, if anyone wants to see these kinds of posts from me. So as I am making my presence known on this site (probably a bad idea), I’ve been representing myself as a Bumbleby shipper. I wouldn’t say I’m the most devout shipper out there, nor do I really want to be viewed in that way, but when there’s a pairing that I really enjoy I’ll latch onto it tight. And Bumbleby happens to be one of them. Why do I enjoy it so much you may ask? Well, let’s dive right into that.

When I was first getting into anime, with Fullmetal Alchemist & Attack on Titan being my firsts, I was really getting into it. But my interests in most of the shows I watched died out as I finished them, and I felt a little empty without a show to be obsessed with. I was also an avid fan of Red Vs Blue at the time, so when they first announced RWBY as I was getting into anime, I was really interested. After watching the trailers, I was hooked. After watching the very first episode, I was in love with it. Granted, I didn’t like Volume 2 all that much (despite the bees’ dance), so my interests in it did die a little; that was quickly remedied by Volume 3, and then I was officially obsessed.

So while watching RWBY in its early years, I came to a few conclusions that others may have had at first: that Cinder Fall was the biggest bad, Adam Taurus was supposed to be some sort of mysterious badass (cue vomit in mouth), and everyone was gonna have a happy ending of some kind. Oh, and there was also something really important I concluded at the time: I thought everybody was straight. To me, it looked like almost everyone had a love interest of the opposite gender, such as Jaune & Pyrrha, Ren & Nora, Weiss & Neptune… and Sun & Blake. I didn’t really look hard enough into the show to think otherwise; I just assumed that Sun and Blake were gonna hook up while Yang was just gonna have her adventures happily by herself or with Ruby. It didn’t really bother me when I thought Rooster Teeth was gonna go for an all straight romance; I was pretty much fine with it because I would support the show I enjoy no matter what. Although admittedly, I did find that somewhat boring.

So if I thought RWBY was gonna go a heteronormative route, what got me into Bumbleby? Back to me first getting into anime: a thing I would do was go on the internet and search the shows I watched in the hopes of finding more content, which was how I came upon the world of fanfics and fanart. I remember how I’d look for & read FMA fanfics nonstop. RWBY was no exception; thus, I was introduced to Bumbleby through the fan-made works of its supporters (same for White Rose, which is also my favorite but a guilty pleasure because I think it’s much less likely to be canon). At first I was confused by such work, thinking ‘why would anybody ship Blake and Yang together if Blake had Sun?’ It didn’t make sense to me at first, but I found myself drawn to the numerous depictions of Blake & Yang together nonetheless.

And then it hit me: they look good together. GREAT, in fact. I was stunned, never having thought that such a relationship could have ever been conceived before. It was as if nothing could compare, nor the other RWBY ships could stand up to it. Not even Arkos, probably one of if not the most significant ship in RWBY, was designed so perfectly like Bumbleby was. Just everything about those two complimented & contrasted with each other so well – black against yellow, amber eyes complementary to lilac ones, and their fantasy inspirations intermingling with one another. The more I would find fanart and fanfics of it, the more I would fall in love with it. It was by far the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen, and it was the works of other fans that convinced me that they were the perfect ship.

But to me at first, it didn’t look like Rooster Teeth agreed with that train of thought. I still believed that they were gonna put everyone in a straight romance (and by that I mean I still thought Blake and Sun were gonna hook up). I didn’t really have any of the investigative skills I have now to look deeper into the show to think otherwise, though I did question moments in the show that wouldn’t have made sense for a friendship-Bumbleby or a romantic-Black Sun. Still, I was certain that Blake & Yang were straight at first, so I pretty much made Bumbleby a guilty pleasure. Honestly, I would’ve still supported Rooster Teeth and RWBY if they went with Black Sun, as I didn’t fall for the series simply for the romance.

Then Volume 4 came out, then Volume 5, and now Volume 6. Now, I have come to new conclusions: RWBY has a bigger n’ better bad in the form of Salem, Adam is the bull-horned bastard that he is who deserved damnation, and everything is a lot more greyer than previously thought (as in not morally black and white). Oh, and I concluded something else that’s really important: not everybody is straight. Black Sun turned out to be a friendship more so than a romance; Yang and Blake were painfully missing each other during their separation; then they were reunited and that’s all that matters (music reference haha); everything just started pointing towards a deeper relationship between the ex-partners. Bumbleby was more than likely to be canon, and it pretty much is at this point. Their stories were practically woven together, setting everything up for them to be together. Everything about Bumbleby just seemed right now. I couldn’t have been more elated.

So some individuals outside the Bumbleby fandom may think that I’m “delusional” for believing in its confirmation. Some of those people may think I’m approving of something “toxic” (which is a ridiculous sentiment might I add). Frankly, I don’t care for any negative things others might say about my preferences. This is the internet, only real life can hurt my feelings. It also never matters to me if the characters in a canon or non-canon ship are of the same gender & sexuality or not, what matters is that they’re depicted to be happy and in love. I ship two characters I adore because it makes me happy. Frankly, I’m always afraid of never finding a special someone. The thought of not having a partner and living alone severely depresses me, and I have these thoughts constantly. But when I see two amazing characters I appeal to in a happy, healthy, and fantastically developed relationship, especially one like Bumbleby, it will always give me a little hope for my own future. Or if a ship’s simply canon then I’ll just love it like a blind puppy dog.

So I guess that’s all I have to say. I enjoy the Bees, they’re on their way to canonization if not already, and I couldn’t be happier. I also couldn’t be more thankful for the contributions of others in the RWBY fandom to Bumbleby. If I didn’t find the passion behind Bumbleby that others have, a passion I learned to share & understand, I’d probably be a generally more miserable person than a joyful one. Thank you for taking your time to read this earnest discussion. If anyone wants to see more of these from me, please be sure to let me know. Also, send me any asks if you want me to elaborate on anything!

#rwby #bumbleby #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #long post #earnest discussion

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