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drawnfamiliarfaces · 8 months ago

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Would Jenny allow Danny to tinker with her? I know robotics isn’t exactly the same as aerospace engineering (and I do be headcanoning that my boy chose this as his major since he wants to be an astronaut), but with all the experience he had from handling his parents inventions I believe he can be trusted with fixing something as complex as a robot. I like to think that Danny was really impressed with how Jenny was made and secretly wanted to take a look at how she works, but was too shy to ask because he knows how it’s like to be treated like an object and not a person (with the whole “ghosts are non-sentient globs of ectoplasm with post-human consciousness” spiel he heard so many times) and didn’t want to make Jenny uncomfortable. I believe it took Jenny some time and getting to know Danny and his engineering skills before she let him fix her when she got something badly broken. It was like a show of ultimate trust from Jenny’s side and Danny was flattered, humbled and very respectful. And super careful of course, constantly asking how Jenny’s doing or feeling while he tinkered, mindful of her. I bet she was touched.

Not gonna lie, this is one of the more fascinating asks I got - if only because its incredibly interesting to read about your take/interpretation of Danny & Jenny's relationship! I hope you don't mind me saying, but it feels like you adore both characters and it's very cute!

Well, now, in HoM AU, both Danny and Jenny are close friends and indeed Danny is one of the few people who Jenny trusts with - well, herself - her mechanical self. Like you, I headcanon Danny as quite mechanicaly gifted - in HoM AU he actually graduated college/uni with engineering degree, so he got education to polish his raw skills! He is one of the first people who would help Jenny in and out of the field, if there is a minor malfunction or an injury of some sort!

But even for that to happen it took a couple of years and a few adventures together.

So to answer the original question, I would have to say that in HoM AU specifically, neither Danny would ask to 'tinker' with her, nor Jenny would probably be totally comfortable with that question if asked. 'Tinkering' would imply a degree of casual poking around, and in this case, both Danny and Jenny have certain life experiences that gave them... boundaries when it comes to their own and others' autonomy. Jenny especially.

(a bit of random background info dump here to explain the reasoning, but feel free to ignore it, since i basically answered the ask xD i just got bitten by a writing bunny, so its gotten a bit long - be warned!)

When Jenny was younger and only just acclimatizing herself with human world and amongst teenagers, she was rather blaze at times with how much access to her body she gave to her human friends and acquaintances.

After all, her mother was rather frank about it - often poking around in Jenny's mechanics and code. But it was her mother, who created her (sort of 'why are you covering yourself, i made you i already know what you have' mother attitude, which is a bit over-controlling and invasive to other's autonomy, but well, Jenny is a robot after all) and it a completely different deal from others.

So, despite her mother's warnings there are instances when Jenny was not very careful. Like when she allowed Brad, Tuck and Sheldon to literally remove and rip out her stuff in pursuit of fashion goals. Or when she dropped her guard around Todd Sweeney and got reprogrammed for her good deed.

And during the events of the last episode, she was once again controlled, by Dr Locus. While not exactly her fault, it still left a lasting impression that any mechanically gifted person could be dangerous to her.

Now, this is where we venture into my personal headcanons for MLAATR that are tied into HoM-verse:

Another aspect of Jenny's developed caution to giving access to her body - is the fact that she is not considered as a real person in the eye of the government/world. She is a thing, a weapon created by Dr. Walkman. She does not have the same rights as a human, and on paper she does not even have rights to her own body. It's all patented Nora Wakeman technology, (secretly) founded by the government.

And she has been fighting it ever since she was a teenager and refused to be called an IT - XJ-9 - and became a HER, a teenage girl Jenny, who also just happens to be a robot.

At first it started as a simple teenage rebellion and she went to school and started to hang out with other kids, but what about later after she graduates? Will she be even allowed to? Sure, maybe her school will give her a diploma, but how legal will it be to give something like that to someone who is legally not a real person? After all, its not like when other kids will turn 18 and can be their own people, not under the legal control of their parents. Jenny is her mother's property, intellectual and physical. For her to be considered a real person in the eye of government, it would require a law being passed about recognizing sentience of Artificial Intelligence.

And sure, she could probably be made an exception, being a hero robot and all, but the problem is, she is not the only human-made robot in existence! What about her sisters, who are prototypes and are not as developed as her? Her brother, who seemed to develop sentiency to the point of turning on humans?? Melody and Killgore?? And its not only in her world (cartoon), but in others (since its a crossover). So the question about AI/Robot sentience, no matter if they are good or bad or how developed they are, would not concern only her, it would be a global debate.

And we all know how the governments of the world would feel about passing laws about sentience of artificial beings that were created to serve the human race. It would be a struggle one way or another.

So, as she grows up and sees the world refusing to aknowledge her as a person, she doesnt have legal rights to finish school and go to college, to get a job, to get married, heck she cant even have a legal documentation that doesnt says 'Dr. Wakeman's creation'. The government says: your body belongs to us, because we paid for Dr. Wakeman to make you - you belong to us, we control you.

That, on top of several unpleasant experiences with other people disregarding her autonomy, will equal to Jenny trying to get some sense of that control back. So she starts to be more cautious about how much access others have to her physical self; she starts to build and reinforce boundaries with other people, starting with her family and friends.

It was one of the darkest days in Sheldon's life, when Jenny started to firmly say 'no' to whenever he asked her about her inner workings and casual access for poking around. xD Tuck was not a happy camper either, that his favorite robot friend became very stingy with all the cool stuff. But Brad got it. And after gentle (and sometimes not) reminders, others became more understanding.

It was a little harder with her mother. Dr. Wakeman truly loved her daughter, but she was a scientist first and mother second. She was so used to casual access to Jenny, in order to keep maitanance that it was hard for her to break the habits. Its still a constant struggle, but she has gotten so much better.

Now, when it came to her new friends amongst HoMies, she already has built a set of boundaries that allowed her to feel more secure as a person, despite how the world sees her, but she is much more reserved to opening herself up to others, at least compared to how she first approached people when she was younger.

It took a few missions and getting to know them better, for her to start trusting with them with her mechanical self. But now a few years later, she feels comfortable enough with most of them to give her a helping hand when needed!

Of course not everyone are capable of helping her though: Danny, Kim and Zak are three of more mechanically oriented people who can help. Though Danny is the one with actual education in that field, while Kim and Zak learned more by necessity, from Kim's various jobs and Zak to operate the Saturday's equipments.

When Rex joined them, he actually became the second best person for her to come to if she needed help. Not only because he has unprecedent skills in mechanics, but also because of his nanites. (but thats info dump for another time, lol)

Jun has some basic knowledge in mechanics, but nowhere near enough for her to feel comfortable poking in Jenny's insides. Jake is perhaps the least capable of helping, when it comes to engineering, followed by newbie Randy (tho we really aint counting him tbh xD).

Ben is a complicated situation - he has some training and knowledge in engineering and robotics because of his Plumber training, but Jenny has heard horror tales from Gwen about how he treats his stuff (the whole hacking/playing with Omnitrix settings), so she flat out refuses for Ben to touch her. However in emergency/battle situation she would allow Ben to use one of his aliens to do so (like, Grey Matter or Upgrade).

So, we talked about Jenny's experiences and why they would contribute to her feeling uncomfortable if someone asked to 'tinker' with her.

Now, let's talk about why Danny would not ask to 'tinker' with her in the first place.

Like you said, Danny is all to familiar with the struggle of being part of something tat is hardly recognized as a sentient species - he had to listen to his parents dismiss ghost sentience most of his younger life. Of course, they have gotten much better since the... 'finale' of DP, but this sort of racism? xenophobia? (im not rally sure which term to use tbh) prejudice against ghosts would have left a lasting impression on Danny.

So I dont remember if I ever implied it, but in HoM AU - events of DP finale happened very differently and the resulting consequences of it diverged a lot from Mr ButtHurtman's 'canon'.

(Also, I had ideas about it, before a Glitch In Time came out, so events from there were not taken into consideration. )

I don't want to reveal much, because it is kinda one of my planned flashback for HoM, but the events that happened reinforced Danny's ... well lets say regard of people's autonomy? It's kind of hard to put into words.

Ok, let's explain it like this: Danny would not ask Jenny if he could look at how she worked and if he could tinker with her, because it would be like if his Mom and Dad casually asked if they could perform a vivisection on him to see how different he is from a full human.

And while sure, the comparison might sound a bit extreme, since there is a difference when it comes to robots and humans about 'poking around' in their innards. But to Danny - it would be too close of a comparison - because of the whole 'recognition of sentience' thing.

After all, wasn't it just some years ago, his parents cried that ghost are nothing more than lump of malicious energy that have no feelings? They changed their mind after Danny's reveal, which allowed them to actually listen and look into evidence proving otherwise and learn. And here is Jenny, struggling to be recognized as a person, since she is considered nothing more than a lump of metal with no feelings - just a weapon to be pointed in a certain direction.

And Danny would feel like asking Jenny if he could casually poke inside her, is a bit... hypocritical? And not to mention insenstitive. After all, he knows how she feels - she is basically still living his worst imagined life in some ways.

So, I don't think he will ever ask to study how she works by casually poking inside her.

HOWEVER -

At some point, after they became friends, Danny would feel like he should know at least some basics on how Jenny works, just so he could help her in an emergency.

I imagine it happened after a particularly rough mission, and Danny had to help Jenny back home since she was unable to do so herself, so Dr. Wakeman could fix her. After some time thinking, he would sit in front of both Nora and Jenny and ask them for permission if he could learn how Jenny works - from Nora.

After all, Danny does not need to poke inside Jenny to learn how she functions, when there is her mother right there - the creator, the maintanance and doctor all in one package, with access to blueprints and all intricate knowledge, who can evaluate what Danny needs to know in accordance to his passable engineering skills. She could teach him the basics - but of course not without Jenny's permission.

So he asks her, if he could learn, because he is tired of looking how she gets hurt along with them, but unlike most of them she can not be easily fixed with bandages and some time. And Danny, since he is one of the few of them who has the skills, would like to be actually able to help her with those skills. But it is her body - it is her choice, to trust him or not.

And Jenny would be speechless. It would be the first time someone asked her like that. Not even Kim, who is one of her closest friends, asked before (but mostly because Kim was perfectly aware that she is nowhere skilled enough to even think about it).

And you would be right. It would be a show of ultimate trust from Jenny, to agree for Danny to learn. And maybe at some point, simply learning, turned into more on hands learning in some small ways. And Jenny's trust was never betrayed, and Danny always stayed humbled and aware of that.

so, i hope the answer was satisfying, or at least entertaining for you! thank you again, your ask was delightful to read and allowed me to explore some of my own backstory parts for HoM a little bit more!

#que?#hom au #hom au q&a #danny fenton #jenny xj9 #long post #i do apologize for length. im not even sure how coherent my ramblings are but i do hope it was fun to read at least lol

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eliossun · 5 days ago

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LAST SHOT - ego death

synopsis : interning at a random ship in space sounds like a great idea for your paper. don't you think? part -> 2 | other chapters -> 1 3 ?

characters : anya, swansea, daisuke, curly, jimmy, gn!reader (daisuke x reader implied)

content : continuation of part 1! i suggest you to read part 1 first, but if you're insistent, you can read this as a stand alone! descriptions of panicking, minor character death, the birthday party (pre crash), and . jimmy. ew

wc : 4.6k+

before you read, reader is : cold, non expressive, and the worst crime of all, a psychology major...

i tried to stick to canon interpretation as much as possible, but i put in some hcs about anya's background ^^; it's only mentioned in one part of this story, but if that bothers you, you can skip! it's not that imp in this chapter !!

- today, you weren’t woken up by your body alarm.

- normally, you would wake up earlier than everyone else, and by the time you folded your ‘bed’ properly by the door, anya’s also awake. that’s how you get to greet each other first at the start of every day. (which daisuke tries to do, but you could tell that he’s going to ignore his alarm for the first few minutes .. as usual.)

- instead, footsteps wake you up.

- they get closer, and closer, and -

“why the fuck are you sleeping in the hallways again?”

your eyes blink open, slowly. it’s been a few hours after curfew. even with that much sleep in your system - not an ounce of sleep seeped into your body, actually - you manage to seem completely awake at the voice; like you were expecting it.

because you were. you’re surprised it took this long for him to approach you.

peering up at the figure, you find your co-pilot standing before you, looming.

“you have a bed, don’t you? why don’t you use it?”

it’s a valid question. but you can’t just say that he was the reason directly, right? no, he would throw a tantrum. you’re not afraid of what will happen to you - you’re an intern, after all. but the fate of possibly being stuck with an angry manchild for the next few months was in your hands.

so for now, you hold his glare.

“was i bothering you?”

if your tone was too sharp, you could just excuse it for the ‘sleepiness’.

he seems to get that you wouldn’t falter that easily. if he answered anything remote to a yes or a no - he knows that you would just push further.

“you’re going to make more work for anya.”

so , he diverts the conversation.

it’s a smart tactic, and you would enjoy conversations like these with your friends. but this man before you is not a friend; you hold nothing but wariness for him. he’s trying to get a reaction out of you, and you’re not going to provide that.

“i think i can take care of myself well enough.”

you look at him, up - then down after you say those words.

‘unlike you.’

his scowl only got worse, and by now, you’re already all cozied up, and ready to fall back asleep - even if it was only for show. you take a last peek at him, before ending the conversation.

“night.”

after a few moments, you can hear his footsteps getting further away, and you inwardly sigh.

you don’t dream that night.

but you fall asleep with a smile on your face, and to you, that’s good enough.

- after that little confrontation of yours, jimmy has not held back in his hostility against you.

- instead of bringing down people in your presence, he had opted to bring you down as well during your psych tests.

- you don’t respond, and maintain your usual attitude when it comes to processing his psych tests.

- however, around others, he simply stares daggers into you. there is no bark; nor bite.

- he’s not scared of what others might do once they know - just.. mildly unconvinced - or so he thinks. that’s your hypothesis.

- because, what would the crew do if they knew that one of their members was being bullied only because they were resting unusually, bothering no one, and doing no harm?

- you hold it above his head every single moment; wordlessly.

- and you both know it.

- you win for the moment. but you’ll still have to watch out for him.

- nowadays, your routine.. has changed a bit.

- unlike before, you’d wake up an hour earlier than the crew, fold your blankets, place them in the room, and then check on your supplies.

- the bag filled with airtight seal snacks, still very abundant due to your careful rationing, check.

-your already half-filled journal, filled with months worth of research and journaling, check.

- your thrifted power banks (they are a bit more drained than you expected), check.

- your ds with additional stickers on it (mainly from daisuke, but you managed to get one from swansea. it’s a warning label for one of his tools..), check

- your taser and gun (never used, and hidden for safety), check..

- and your emotional support mp3.

- you stare at this particular item often.

- it contained the ambiance that came from your favourite part of town. your local cafe, the buzz of the aircon in your apartment, the library, and the rain. and not to mention, your favourite books. it’s perfect.

- now to think of it, you really do miss the rain.

- the closest you got to rain here was.. the showers. pretty sad.

- after doing your item checkup, you head towards the lounge with anya right after you’ve showered.

- the communal shower is more private now, thanks to you placing an occupied and not occupied sign - right on the small window on the bathroom door. (why was that there, anyway?)

- you both eat breakfast; then either relax there, or you’d immediately go to the medical bay. sometimes, if you had time, you’d play games with anya and daisuke until it’s time to start your day. the latter is increasingly more rare occasion by the day, though.

- sometimes curly comes in right after you and anya. sometimes, it’s daisuke who comes in, pleading for you to play with him before the day starts..

- and on very rare occasions, swansea comes in first.

- before doing anything, he visits the coffee machine and grabs a can of.. whatever’s available, at this point.

- .. now you’ve nearly ran out of coffee.

- you think that’s horrifying. a whole vending machine’s worth of coffee..

- but to be fair, you have done the same in exam seasons. and you’re not quite dead yet, so..

- eh. maybe you shouldn’t be too worried.

- your daily work includes: learning as much as you could from anya, writing down your conclusions/observations in your journal (for academic purposes), and checking on medical supplies.

- most of the time, people who come in request for medicine, or have sustained some cuts/bruises. people rarely get sick, and when they do, you’ve tried your best to stop them from working. it’s dangerous to work whilst sick, especially considering that everyone’s job is pretty .. dangerous.

- think about it. if you had to work as a mechanic whilst you’re sick, what are the chances of damaging the ship? and if you were piloting while you’re sick.. the ship might crash.

- you don’t want to entertain the possibilities, so you end up forcing them to their rooms.

- at the end of the day, you take another shower, before changing into another set of pony express uniform.

- you’re starting to get tired of looking at the same yellow and reds. perhaps you could’ve brought more personal clothing..

- after lounging in the living room (what daisuke likes to call it), you pull your blankets out once again, and sleep.

- that has been your routine for these past few months.

- it’s not that bad. surface wise - it’s not as bad as your daily life before the internship.

- but mentally? this is challenging.

- you’re starting to miss grass, of all things. grass.

- that green weed that grows from the ground- the dirt? yeah. you’re starting to miss that.

- you realise you’ve taken a lot of things for granted whilst you were in this metal hunk.

- that includes the sun.

- recalling this all just as you’re about to eat dinner made you suddenly miss the moon too.

- as you open the door, it revealed the entire crew already seated, and you were the last person to join dinner.

- your seat is empty, in the middle of anya and curly.

- your eyes linger on the group, laughing together on the dining table.

- as you were observing the whole crew from afar, daisuke manages to spot you, and then calls you over.

- anya sends you a smile as she looks in your direction as well. curly follows after, sending you a smile, swansea nods at you.

- your chest felt warm that night.

- .. maybe you really should treasure these moments more as well.

- there is one extra addition to your bi-daily tasks.

- laundry with daisuke.

- or laundai… can you guess who made that pun?

- every three to four days, you meet up with him in front of the laundry room, basket of laundry in your arms, and his own laundry in his.

- it’s not that he’s incapable of doing it - but he insists that you do it together on the day of the detergent accident. ever since then, you’ve been accompanying him.

- you try to spot if he adds too much or too little detergent, taught him which buttons to press on what occasions, and you also teach him how to pick up his laundry quickly.

- sometimes you do machine maintenance.. removing the tray at the bottom and washing the insides of the machine.

- while the laundry runs, you often just sit there together. seeing the laundry tumble, soap and water mixing together.

- one time, he asked to go on a surfing trip with you. he made a comparison between the two of you and the clothes in the machine.

- you pointed out that the clothes are, quite literally, drowning in water.

- he immediately counters you - by saying that he meant the bubbles looked fun - and continues to try and convince you, saying that he’ll teach you how to surf

- .. that conversation ended with you saying maybe.

- he cheers, and you were only able to sigh (fondly).

- he talks a lot, and you try to incorporate enough words in between your listening.

- you talk about all sorts of things. how your day was, how you missed the sun (this topic was brought up by you), the amazement you held for the crew for working here for so long.

- daisuke also talks about the little things as well. how he learnt how to fix the pipes today, how he saved the last time you gave him sunshine - the candy - and ate two today, and how he managed to draw swansea properly today.

- the last one was a slip up, and you can watch his expression grow hesitant when you asked if he draws

- although shy, he shows you his notes- and by extension- his doodles.

- one time you saw him drawing the entire crew, live, whilst you were doing laundry. and somehow, he managed to get the courage to ask you to model for him. (mainly just staying still as you look down at your hands, to replicate the look you had when you were doing your journal)

- you roll your eyes at his request -not to belittle it, but to laugh at the cheesiness of it all - and whilst doing so, a small smile was painted on your lips.

you could feel your lips quirking up at the shy tone of his voice, your eyes looking at him with a fond crease subconciously.

"you could draw me, sure."

"wait, do that again."

daisuke watches you eagerly, a certain shine of disbelief in his eyes as you tilt your head at him, face now back to your usual expression.

"do what?"

he stares at you for a beat. then by the next, his face has already turned away from you, his eyes tightly shut and his hands clenched in front of him in faux defeat.

"noooo.. i can't believe i didn't get a picture of that- man!"

his mumble doesn't get unheard.

"get a picture of what?"

and as soon as you asked that question, his head is facing back in your direction, smiling and giving you a thumbs up.

"nothing!"

you hum in amusement.

"alright."

another smile slips by your lips. and this time, he exclaims, slamming his clipboard (for his drawings) down.

"you just smiled again!"

"i did?"

he continues to pester you to smile once more, and you kept on insisting that you had no idea what he was talking about.

- you had fun playing dumb in front of him, and him getting all frustrated. he looks like an angry puppy, which turned into .. a begging puppy?

- you watch as he pulls his puppy eyes on you, to no avail.

- but you somehow still remember the look on his face. the way his lips were downturned into a small pout and his eyes were wide open, peering at you. it's.. cute. to a certain extent.

- you eventually went back to drawing, and he offered you a little sticky note with a small doodle of him encouraging you on it.

- you still keep the note to this day. he's incredibly endearing sometimes.

- on a few occasion he doesn’t talk at all, but that’s pretty rare.

- the last time he remained silent for the entire session was when you brought your journal along for the wait.

- you had already recorded the past month’s results, and the day you set for data analysis lined up with laundry day.

- so you brought the book with you, and you kept your eyes on the book the entire time.

- you did the laundry with one hand, essentially. you only looked up from your book to respond to daisuke, or to check on his laundry.

- the silence only comes to your attention at the end of your laundry session.

- the machine often plays a tune once it’s done with it’s job - when it doesn’t, you’d slap the lid, and then it plays the song.

- and usually, it’s accompanied by daisuke’s own hum of the tune.

- at first, you didn’t even realise that he didn’t follow along with the melody. but after a moment, you felt something was off.

- your eyes flicker towards his direction, and you see him napping.

- he’s snoozing away, hugging his own laundry basket.

- and he looks.. peaceful.

- this wouldn’t be the first time you saw him asleep. the first time was when you brought him to his room after game night. the second time was when you spotted him on the sofa, napping the evening away on the same day swansea was sick - and this.. would be the third.

- your fingers subconsciously reach out to brush his hair back. you stopped once you realised what you were going to do - your hand inches away from his face.

- dropping your hand back onto your lap, you sigh again. it’s an action you find yourself doing more often.

- you try to focus on your research again, flicking to the next page - your eyes following the lines you’ve written before.

- so you both sit there, his soft breaths filling in the air every now and then, and the flicks of pages accompanying them right after.

- he wakes up sooner than you expected, and you briefly suffer the wrath of the sleepy daisuke.

- half-asleep gibberish about you not waiting for him, and leaving him in the laundry room alone. (while you were right there)

- it takes a few minutes before he falls back asleep, this time, on your shoulder.

- you really hoped he really would’ve truly woken up, even if it did mean sitting through more of his sleep induced rants.

- .. now you’ll have to stay in this room, in the same position - your shoulders possibly freezing up at this rate - and .. perhaps also face swansea’s wrath later for keeping his intern for too long.

- oh well.

- you’ll face it later.

- for now, you’ll just continue reviewing your data… with a snoozing mechanic intern on your shoulder.

- the other day, curly went by your office.

- it’s odd enough for him to approach you first before you call him for evaluation.

- but it wasn’t psych eval day; and you watch as he enters the medical bay warily, avoiding your gaze after a brief moment of your eyes meeting.

- you could already feel like it would be a long session. or at least, a heavy one.

- so you place down your clipboard, and instead focus entirely on him.

- he struggles to get a word out other than “hi, sorry for bothering you, do you mind if i.. talk to you as a patient?”

- so you wait. your eyes remain glued at him, and he takes a few breaths in; then out. and it repeats, over and over again.

- the machine buzzes beneath your feet. it’s louder in the silence.

- so are your breaths. and so is his.

- and finally, the silent tempo is broken by a sigh.

“the crew is getting laid off,”

the words are spoken in a low mumble, so soft that you wouldn’t hear them if you weren’t paying attention. but you did hear anyway.

he looks visible distressed; hands messing his own hair up, his fingers fidget more, and eyebags looking heavier than usual. he refuses to look you in the eyes.

this would be the first time you’ve seen him like this. it’s been sixteen minutes since he came in, and this was the first words that he said, aside from the greeting he gave you.

he's waiting for something. your breath faltering, or perhaps your expression dropping. you can tell by the way he looks at you.

he seems guilty.

“.. i just talked with jimmy. before the news, about how i felt stuck in this job.”

he takes a heavy drag of air into his lungs.

“i didn’t mean to.. i didn’t know that this would happen. he’s going to think that i had involvement in this.”

“but you know you don’t.”

your eyes continue to pick up on the little quirks on his body. his faster way of speaking - the way he tumbles over his sentences. and it also explains why he wasn’t seen at the lounge for the past couple of days.

these are behaviours that distressed individuals display. you remember this clearly in a textbook you had reviewed previously.

for the first time, in the past nineteen minutes, he looks up at you.

“will you let his beliefs prevail over your own?”

you continue to stare at him, he stares back.

after a brief moment of strength, he seems to give up. his body falls back into himself - his body fully leaned back onto the chair.

“.. i don’t know.”

he takes another deep breath in, and you can feel your eyebrows temporarily furrow.

“his views matter to me. so does everyone else’s views. i can’t discount their thoughts about this.”

“but you can discount your own?”

your question rings in the room. this time, he doesn’t dare to hold your gaze anymore.

“you’re not at fault here. you want everyone to win in this situation, and that’s impossible.”

you tap your finger on the table, producing a stable rhythm on the table.

“there is nothing you can do to change this outcome anymore.”

you close your eyes, and your finger comes to a stop.

“...the best you could do now is to not let others write your narrative for you. help others write their own narrative as well.”

you watch as he sinks deeper into his seat.

“...you’re right.”

and this is as far as you can go.

you can’t help with anything more as a faux therapist.

you’re not qualified for it either. the best you could do is to make him understand that it isn’t his fault, and no, he should not be carrying this burden, nor allowing people to blame him either.

you know he knows this. but does he understand it?

so all you can do is wait; wait until he does.

the blonde man lifts himself up from the seat in front of you, taking a deep breath as he walks around the medical bay.

his eyes are closed, before he attempts to harden himself again.

he sends a smile at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“..sorry for coming out of the blue. i’m not sure what made me do that.“

he even tries to throw in a chuckle, but it just sounds dry. you send him a sour expression.

another exhale sounds in the room; and this time, the sigh didn’t come from him.

“.. you can do this, curly. don’t doubt yourself either.”

you meet his eyes for the final time.

this time; he’s completely defeated. no longer is he standing before you as captain, but as a man, grieving for his friends’ futures. for the stable future that they might’ve once believed in. that man sends a weak nod in your direction.

“.. i’ll try.”

the male leaves with a small thank you, and silence follows after.

your eyes are trained at the false sky as the door shuts in on itself. your calm demeanour slowly unfolds on the wooden desk, your head now buried in your arms.

.. now that his burdens are shared with you, what should you do?

- everyone knows by now that your work with anya in the medical bay are split into two.

- anya with physical injuries, and you.. working on psych tests.

- you don’t want to say that you work with mental injuries just yet. that’s a horrifying thought. you’re seriously not qualified yet.

- hell, you probably didn’t give proper treatment towards curly that other time.. you don't think you're quite ready to become a therapist yet. that's one thing you've learnt in this internship.

- but point is, you’ve barely dealt with physical injuries prior to this.

- why are you bringing this up? well..

- anya got sick.

- it’s a fever and flu of some sort. you say it’s the airconditioning in her room, and she denies it - saying that it was fine last night.

- then you suggest that it might be her habit of waking up way too early, and this time, she agrees that it could’ve been what played part in making her sick.

- she laughs when you sigh; mostly due to the fact that she knew you were joking.

- you’ve been helping her do mundane stuff. examples were.. bringing a basin of water of warm water and a small towel for baths, medicine and food prepared for her, and making sure she gets enough entertainment whilst also making sure she slept enough.

- you would really prefer if you could’ve just cared for her in her room…

- but she refused - and instead, remains at the medical bay. she wants to be prepared if anyone’s injured, she says, while she looks like she's dying. (you’re exaggerating)

- but since that’s the only way she would allow you to help her, you comply.

- she often sleeps hunched over the desk. that’s why you brought one of the pillows from the lounge to her.

- she seemed concerned once she saw the pillow, and you get why - safety reasons, germs, etc. - but you promised that you would wash the entire pillow after it gets in and out of the medical bay.

- it was her time to sigh at your expense. you let out a huff of defeat.

- having a sibling-like relationship with anya meant that she kept you close enough to watch over you, but not close enough to know her.

- only throughout the course of nursing her back to health, do you get to hear more about her life.

- she wanted to pursue nursing due to her mother’s poor health throughout her entire life.

- her father was the only source of income, and almost saw his wife as a burden.

- living with her older and younger sisters, she had tried to make sure that the two were alright as well, whilst taking care of her mother. this managed to affect her grades.

- miraculously, her mother’s condition got better after some time, and the burden on her older sister’s duties got better.

- but this meant arguments got worse. so she left, leaving her younger sister in her older sister’s care.

- she promised to take care of her mother when she got older. but after a year she left home, her mother tragically died due to a heart attack.

- that’s how she told you that she never had anyone to care for her like this, ever since she moved and got a job in the city.

- before you knew it, you had something in your eye.

“..are you crying?”

you sniffle, looking away from her - a poor attempt of hiding away your .. emotional state.

“.. no.”

your voice gives it away. damnit.

- she only laughs at your attempts, before convincing you that it was alright now. she’s still alive. and you can only cry more.

- you compose yourself, before handing her another cup of water, and a replacement towel for her forehead.

- she thanks you quite a lot during the entirety of it. you try to assure that she was welcome to ask for your help.

- but when swansea comes in with a particularly nasty cut - daisuke trailing behind the old man, panicking - you nearly panic as well.

- you try your best to stay calm, following what you’ve learnt from your mentor.

- disinfectant. don’t touch the wound with alcohol. clean the surroundings, and then secure the wrap with bandages. make sure that you handle it properly.

- before you knew it, you were done.

- it’s not as good as anya’s, but you think you did well with the bandages.

- swansea thanks you, and daisuke gives you two thumbs ups. it’s hard to not reciprocate his energy, so you give him one as well.

- anya, on the other hand, stares at you wide-eyed.

you tilt your head at her expression.

“.. did i do something wrong?”

her expression doesn’t look like a dangerous expression - just more towards shock, and perhaps, something else.

“i didn’t know you improved so much..”

ah. she still remembers, it seems..

at the first day, she asked how much knowledge you had about first aid. and you responded by showing her what you’d do when you had a cut. it’s safe to say that you made.. leaps of improvement.

“yeah. i’ve been paying close attention to you.”

you watch as she realises what she did.

“i.. taught you that..”

you nod in response.

“yeah. you did.”

she smiles at you, and now, it was her who had tears in her eyes.

- you tried your best to comfort her after that.

- you used your newfound knowledge - that she likes tea - and brought her a cup.

- perhaps, due to the exhaustion, she immediately went to sleep an hour after she downed the tea.

- you made sure she was alright, before continuing your writing on the journal.

- you were informed of a communal birthday party (how cheap is the pony express?), and this time, you were celebrating curly's birthday.

- everyone's wearing party hats - striped yellow and red, the same colours of your uniform.

- you’re seriously getting sick of seeing it.

- not sure why no one bothered observing and memorising the codes. but you did. and so, you baked the cake beforehand.

- daisuke practically wails at you, asking why you never told him that you knew the pass to the sweetener all this time. basically, putting on a dramatic show.

- you stare back at him, deadpan. the both of you know why you didn’t reveal it to him.

- he only grins once he got caught. you sigh.

- so, that didn’t go well.

- you surprised curly, but it seems like today was the day he decided to break the news to the members about the disbandment. he was told to wait until you were closer to the destination of the delivery but..

- you suppose this would be the best outcome, if you only had curly’s emotional state in mind.

- swansea makes a bitter joke, anya looks increasingly worried, and daisuke’s silent, unable to say anything in this situation.

- and jimmy…

“..so i guess you got what you wanted.”

jimmy laughs bitterly, his hands on the table.

“without the guilt.”

you watch as curly attempts to explain himself.

“jim.. if i had known..”

a poor explanation it was. you could only watch as the brown-haired man grows more agitated.

“i can go back to my, how’d you put it? “struggle of a life?””

the room is slowly growing more heavy at his words.

he’s clearly talking about a previous conversation with curly. but at the same time.. he’s wording it particularly. sure, you weren’t there when the conversation happened, but you think you get the gist of what jimmy’s trying to do at the moment - and it’s starting to affect others in the room as well.

“sounds like you’re blaming him for this, jimmy.”

so you try to diffuse whatever he’s planning.

his furrowed eyes snap at you, and he immediately explodes.

“what would you fucking know, huh?”

his hands slam at the table, shaking the cutlery on the surface, and it becomes evident that he doesn’t care about the things that could break at this very moment. he’s only interested in expressing his own anger.

so, you conclude that you were right. he’s releasing his anger by picking arguments, instead of thinking rationally, disregarding curly’s emotion, and how it might cause misunderstandings.

you should’ve expected this much from him.

you decide to retort, tone calm as you speak.

“i know that this should be blamed on management. not the man whose a small cog in the machine right now.”

he only looks angrier after being presented with sound logic.

“oh, please, cut your poetic crap. you come out of this unscathed. you don’t have any rights to talk.”

at this point, you’re just more tired than confused.

“and you have the right to blame someone that isn’t at fault? who gave you the right to do that?”

you slowly unfold your arms, staring at him, before scanning at the others.

they all have different expressions, and you could feel how heavy the atmosphere is. to think that someone like him could cause this much trouble..

you look at the perpetrator one last time, as you add in a final comment.

“stop trying to twist reality to your own narrative.”

with that, you could see him seething in his seat.

his eyes are sharp on you, and you’d continue this little staring competition if you were any less sane. so for now, you place your party hat down on the table, and remove yourself from the conversation.

“i think everyone needs time to process this. so i’ll leave first. goodnight.”

those were your final words, before you stood up from your chair, and left the table.

- after you left, daisuke followed after. then anya, and then swansea.

- everyone’s hat remains at the table, either upright or simply discarded on the wooden surface.

- safe to say, you all agreed that time was the solution for the short while, and you can’t be more proud of them for having some sort of sanity - unlike a certain brunette.

- but you could only watch as the door closes on you, with curly and jimmy sitting alone on the table.

- you just hope he doesn’t dig a deeper hole for himself. it would make your efforts of redirecting his anger towards you pointless.

- alas, you don’t have power over him.

- you can lead someone to water, but you can’t make them drink, after all.

i did NOT proofread this. oh man. ill edit it later on.. perhaps...maybe.

i also did not know what possessed me when i was writing this. jimmy feels really ooc but maybe it's because no one has tried to put that man in his place LOL.. only swansea did at the end (by attempting to kill him. valid btw)

hopefully i managed to flesh out each character's relationship with reader enough in this chapter .. i didn't get to write swansea in but tried my best to slip him in the details.. will focus on it next chap!

thank you so much for the support for this as well! i appreciate it tons!

extra notes: i'd like to think that the cake was stored in the fridge.. and eaten the next morning (although with a somber mood)

sun & moon dividers by : @/saradika nighttime screen & the lounge visuals from mouthwashing

#mouthwashing #tw jimmy #daisuke x reader #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing x gn reader #swansea mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #fanfic #fix it fic #i would beat up jimmy in a heartbeat btw

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cerastes · 3 months ago

Note

So ig my question is why don’t the Chinese or Japanese markets care much ab this?

I’m going to answer this from perhaps a different angle than expected, prefacing this with “completely generalizing is easy and stupid” so we’re not going to be doing that.

Now, without you knowing, you’ve probably seen a hundred Things You Should Have Cared About, like caricatures or vilification of Korean people in Japanese media, without realizing you were looking at that. Sayonara Zetsubou-Sensei, I hear, has plenty of that “hidden” in some of its jokes (I share this anecdotally as I have not read that, only heard of this). Some years ago, think about how a lot of tension existed because of Attack on Titan’s imperialist/nationalist undertones that the average Westerner couldn’t immediately grasp. Yuuki Yuuna Is A Hero was a fun watch for me right up until its nationalist undertones, well, overtones registered to me as entirely intentional and sincere.

But if it doesn’t register as an issue to you, why would you see it as an issue? It can very well BE an issue, you just don’t even consider it could be one because you lack cultural background or, well, “cultural fucks” to give, let’s call it. It’s invisible ink, right in front of you, but you don’t see it.

So, flip it around. There’s racist Chinese/Japanese people, there’s progressive CN/JP people, there’s people that don’t really care either way or see it as an issue the same way Uncle Cleetus from the U.S. may or may not be aware of Chinese violence against natives, even if he is aware and cares about U.S. violence against natives.

It can always just be an issue of “that is so very distant to me that I can’t really put Caring Power on it given all the things closest to me that I have to put Caring Power into”.

It’s not about whether these things matter or not — I think they do matter — but inevitably the majority of people think more locally in terms of cultural fucks to give, so, they just don’t really care either way if they have more darker skinned characters or not, I’d say for the majority of people over there.

And, in the context of gacha, they are selling desirable designs, and what’s considered desirable by that demographic, going by their market studies and other such data, is probably light skinned anime girls, thus, that’s what most gacha characters are going to be, with anything straying from that being tangibly a risk. Because these games are made by corporations, not entities that ever claimed to be trying to be progressive.

If Chinese players wanted more variety of Chinese Character in, say, Call of Duty, with dialects and other local cues, John Call Of Duty probably would not give a shit, nor would the majority of Call of Duty players in the West, even those that can be perfectly progressive. It’s like that.

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hollandsfavbabe · 9 months ago

Text

Peter's Precarious Polyjuice Potion - part 1

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

synopsis: in which you and peter are forced to take extreme lengths to protect your secret relationship with the help of your shape shifting powers

warnings: a little suggestive language, lot's of fluff, lack of impulse control, extreme secrecy

word count: 5.7k

masterlist

a/n: Just a quick psa: this is the first of two parts! I tried to make it a one shot, but it was wayyy too long. There are some mentions of Harry Potter, obviously by the title, but no major spoilers and I want to make it very clear that I DO NOT support JK Rowling nor her transphobia. Trans women are women and trans men are men🏳‍⚧! That being said, I have another little surprise in the works that may have something to do with the wizarding world...

If you want to know what it is (and maybe get a sneak peak) comment your favorite character from the series and make a guess as to who you think mine might be. I'll reveal it with the next part of this series.

Thanks and enjoy!

Was there anything better than a chilly winter morning with the one you love most? Absolutely, a chilly winter morning with the one you love most and Harry Potter in the background. That’s all you could think of as your fuzzy sock clad feet padded across the campus floor.

The festive season’s aroma invaded your senses as you managed to steal the first four films from your father’s extensive DVD collection without being caught, the cover of the first one glinting in the light that flooded in from the wall of windows encasing Avenger’s campus as you admired how young the cast used to look and made your way to your boyfriend’s bedroom.

Suddenly, the usual quiet of the campus in the early morning was disturbed by the sound of footsteps of another Avenger in the distant halls and using your powers you immediately concealed the DVDs into a stack of school notebooks and a folder of overflowing miscellaneous papers as a facade. It wasn’t unusual for you to use your gifts this way.

It was only five years prior during a mission in the Czech Republic that you were introduced to Peter Parker and while everyone had expected the two of you to get along as teens of the same age, no one knew just how close you and Peter really were. The rule had initially started at Stark Tower as a branch off of one of your father’s household rules: no dating superheroes. You thought he would be less strict as your life became centered around them, as did his, but you had no such luck. There was little chance Tony Stark would ever change the rules set for his little girl. So you were left to bend them instead.

While you and Peter seemed like close friends, you only started out as a platonic couple before your relationship escalated faster than either of you could’ve anticipated into something more fulfilling than you could’ve ever hoped for. Peter became your everything. Before you knew it, he was your rock. He was the first person you wanted to share a new dirty joke with or an unlocked childhood memory or even complain to when your father became too restricting. It was so much easier for the both of you to be together during high school. Being a college sophomore made your relationship much more complicated. Especially seeing as Peter stayed close to home at NYU and you left town to attend MIT (your father would never let you go anywhere else).

With campuses that were over a 4 hour drive away from each other, you and Peter only got the occasional three day weekend to spend with each other and that was only when you were able to evade spending time with your dad by making up an excuse as to why you couldn’t come home and held your ground until you had to eventually cave to his demands. The only time you and Peter really got together was during holiday breaks when you two could both be at the campus and sneak around like smitten teenagers all over again. With only three weeks, you were determined not to waste a single second with so little time, even if it meant using your shapeshifting ability to disguise wizard school movies as chemistry homework. What could be suspicious about two close friends sharing notes about stoichiometry?

You felt your heart start back up as Natasha passed you in the hallway instead of your father, shooting you a smile.

“Morning, y/n.” she greeted pausing to look at your stack of folders with a look of confusion.

“Uhh, good morning.” you croaked, praying that there wasn’t some defect in your ability that allowed her to see a portion of the one of the movies you were disguising. Thankfully, your facade held.

“Homework? Really? This early on a saturday?”

You gulped as you nodded.

“You know me,” you forced a smile. “I’m actually on my way to wake Peter up so we can review together.”

“Good for you,” she nodded, impressed. “Breakfast should be in a couple hours if you two want a break. Try not to get bored!”

“Thanks?” You shrugged before continuing off to where you knew Peter’s room was, conveniently all the way on the other side of the building from your own. Soon enough you were at Peter’s door, turning the knob and entering without knocking, quick to shut it behind you to prevent anyone else from seeing how eager you were to ‘study.’ Surrounded by the comfortable closed walls of privacy, you let your platonic friend disguise fall and set the stack of papers on the edge of Peter’s bed.

Your boyfriend was still tucked beneath the covers, as was expected. You two had made your marathon plans ages ago and after losing several rounds of rock paper scissors, Peter’s room was made the place of the marathon meaning it was your job to wake him up. Overall you thought it best as you were more natural at lying (literally as you were aided by shape shifting powers) and a little more strategic when it came to social interaction and plotting.

You neared the stirring boy, his sleep disrupted by the clatter of the discs and the movement of his bed as you sat down to kiss him.

“Peterrr…” you whispered, hovering above him with an unshakable grin etched upon your face. “Wake up.”

You awoke him by placing a soft kiss on his nose and smiling down on him as he furrowed his eyebrows in aversion. It wasn’t until his eyes fluttered open that he grinned as he saw you and craned his head up to kiss you properly, his lips soft against yours, slipping a hand up from under the covers to cup your cheek.

“Morning.” he greeted, smiling affectionately as he sat up against the wall behind his pillow, pulling you into his lap so that he could kiss you once more. That was until he took a look at what you had brought, books and paper for studying. He cringed, pulling you closer and kicking up his covers in disgust.

“Oo no. I refuse to study on a Saturday. Can’t we save that for the last minute like every other time we’re together?” his lips turned into a sly grin as they neared yours once more.

You laughed as his complaint sparked many memories, most of you both tangled up together out of what started as procrastination, but ended up in unbridled desire that poured out after being built up each time you were away from one another for too long.

“Nice try, Parker. And here I thought we’d have a nice time today. Don’t you remember our plans?”

As you gesture to the folders and notebook on the edge of his bed they instantly shrunk back to their original form. All of a sudden, instead of the obnoxious red notes and blue folders filled with paperwork were the four DVDs with their easily recognizable covers that screamed nostalgia. Peter’s face lit up instantly, a mix of excitement and relief as his morning amnesia faded away. But even still, his seductive grin returned as he slid you further up his lap.

“We can’t start just a teeny bit later?” he teased, his fingers sending chills down your spine as they glided up the sides of your thighs. One of the downsides of how long you two had been together was that Peter knew exactly how to bend you to his will. “I think I’d rather spend our first morning together a little differently.”

He leaned in for another kiss, but instead of meeting your lips in the middle, his mouth was met with your finger as you pulled away and sat next to him, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek before shuffling into his comforter. It was by luck that your Stark genes made you extraordinarily stubborn and resistant to his persistence.

“Maybe later. Right now I am seriously craving a Hogwarts escape,” you lightly pushed Peter towards the DVDs, hinting that he would have to be the one to pop it into the reader. You teased him as he left his bed, grinning wickedly. “Besides, Harry’s wand is way bigger than yours.”

Peter’s head whipped around as the previews started to roll on the flat screen TV behind him that could be found in every resident room on the campus.

“Hey,” he pouted, though there was still enough of a smile left that you were sure he knew you were only kidding. He settled beside you, tucking an arm behind your head so you could rest on him as you normally did when you shared a room. “It’s hard to compete with 11 inches.”

After skipping through each advertisement for movies that had come out over a decade ago and finally selecting the play option on the movie menu, Peter planted a soft kiss on your forehead as the movie finally began and the familiar notes of the main theme played from the speakers.

“I think you should wake me up like this every morning.” he mumbled into your skin.

“I think that would be nice.” you agreed and nuzzled closer into him.

You two spent the entire first movie just like that, two nerds wrapped up in each other so close that you could hear each other's heartbeats, but so involved in the film that you didn’t get distracted by the distant pulsing of them.

“I think I'd make a great chaser.” you confessed during Harry’s first quidditch game.

“No, I think you’ve got it all wrong,” Peter argued. “I’d make a great chaser. You’d definitely be a beater. I mean legally hitting people off of flying brooms in a competitive wizard sport? If that isn’t right up your alley, I don’t know what is.”

“You’re right.” you agreed right before Harry crash landed into the sand, the golden snitch popping out of his mouth.

It was after the first movie that you started feeling peckish and by the way Peter squirmed to change positions every few seconds, you could tell he was feeling the same. Two hours awake without any food was an abnormal event for you and as a result your stomach was growling loudly. As you had other needs to attend to, you excused yourself and offered to grab the two of you something from the kitchen to snack on during the rest of your marathon.

“I’ll get it babe, you can stay in bed.” Peter offered, sitting up with you as you stood from his bed.

“That’s alright,” you assured him, handing him the disc to the second movie and the sleek black remote that controlled the monitor. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom so I’ll grab it on my way back.”

Peter laid back, his hands coming behind his head on the pillow as he eyed you on your way to the door. You smiled at him in confusion, wondering why he was admiring you so when all you were doing was fetching food.

“What?” you questioned, sliding on a sweatshirt over your pajamas.

“Sometimes I can’t believe we’re together,” he admitted. “You’re way too good for me.”

You giggled at his honesty as you moved towards the door.

“Are you still trying to sleep with me?” you teased.

“No,” he admitted, shaking his head adamantly. “...but I’m not opposed to the idea.”

You rolled your eyes playfully as you turned to leave, chuckling to yourself.

“I’ll be back soon. You can save the sweet talk for then.”

Though you couldn’t see his face, you could picture Peter’s smile as you shut the door behind you and meandered to the bathroom closest to the Avenger’s kitchen before starting towards the food.

As promised, the breakfast feast awaiting you smelled gloriously of hot buttered pancakes, sweet maple syrup, and so many other wonderful items. You prepared a lie to explain Peter’s absence as you entered the kitchen and grabbed a plate, when suddenly, the voice of your dad sounded from behind you.

“Ahh, y/n!” he startled you, causing you to drop your plate back on the stack of white porcelain where you had just barely plucked it from.

“Hi dad,” you forced a smile, turning to face him. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been looking for you. C’mon, it’s family meeting time.” he stated casually. You realized then that the dining hall was eerily empty for a Saturday morning. The weekly buffet was normally packed with superheroes or at least a starving Thor. You furrowed your brows in confusion, never before having heard of any such meeting as you followed after your father.

“Family meeting? What about breakfast?”

“It can wait. I’ve got something we need to discuss.” you dad explained as he opened the tempered glass door to one of the many meeting rooms at the campus which was normally reserved for more professional causes.

“Okay. I’ll get Peter.”

“No time, come with me. Peter’s not invited to this one.” your father informed you as he grabbed your arm, pulling you with him inside of the meeting room where every chair was already filled by various heroes who also resided at the campus. You gave a small wave to those who cared to acknowledge your arrival and wandered to stand in a corner at the back of the room while your father took up the front. From what you could tell, everyone else was as confused as you were. You pulled out your phone just before it commenced, giving you enough time to shoot Peter a quick text explaining your prolonged absence.

I might be awhile

That’s fine. Take your time.

You fought the urge to smile at your boyfriend’s message as you slipped your phone into your pocket and looked up to your father who was commanding everyone’s attention.

“Thank you for coming, everyone. Really, I appreciate it.”

You recognize a feminine scoff from the right of the table, Natasha shaking her head, a fearful gesture from your main combat trainer. It was a general rule around the Campus, along with don’t introduce Steve Rodgers to ASMR: don’t get Natasha Romanoff angry unless you want to be dead.

“Cut the bullshit Tony. We’re all too tired and hungry to be here for longer than necessary. Get to the point. Why are we here?”

Others voiced their agreement and Tony put his hands up.

“Fine. I prepared a nice little welcome speech for you all, but I guess I’ll skip to my main point. You’re welcome by the way.”

Natasha rolled her eyes.

“The reason I’ve gathered you here today is to discuss a serious matter concerning one of our youngest recruits who I’ve purposefully made sure is not in attendance - ” he stated as he pressed one of the buttons on the controller to the meeting room monitor, the picture popping up on the screen of a face that was all too familiar to you with tousled brown hair and chocolate eyes. “- Mr. Peter Parker.”

Your heart stopped as you heard your boyfriend's name roll off your fathers lips. From a lifetime of knowing him you were sure whatever he wanted to discuss couldn’t be good. You tried your best to not look so shocked and managed to keep a neutral expression as you mirrored Bucky who did not care for the conversation whatsoever. In fact, his expression resembles that of someone who was desperate to deck someone.

“Ah yes! The Man of Spiders!” Thor called out, quite possibly the only Avenger who seemed to be not in the least bit irritated.

“Yep, that’s the one. Here’s the thing,” Tony began as you braced yourself. “It has been two years since he graduated high school. That means he’s had two whole years of college life to get out there and make some new connections, to be a kid! But instead he comes home late every night and is always so exhausted. He’s working way too hard. So I propose that we help our little spiderling find someone he can lean on and turn to. Someone who can really help him slow down and start to be himself. It’s time we help Peter get a girlfriend.”

Your eyes shot open as his words hit you, you had to force your hands to stay down and try not to react too much. You looked around at the reactions of the others, searching for someone who may agree with you, but much to your disappointment, no one seemed as against it as you were. It seemed the topic of helping Peter made the annoyance of the meeting more tolerable and many Avengers were nodding their heads in agreement. Thor especially as he hollered in his seat in clear support.

“Yes! Wonderful idea! A lady spider! Tis like those Midgardean movies that are so popular around this time of year! What do you call them? Wrong-Cons?”

Everyone looked around in confusion.

“Thor is referring to the movie genre of romantic comedies or rom-coms.” Vision explained. With the confusion cleared others started agreeing more.

“Yes, the boy needs a break,” Wanda concurred. “And I love a good rom-com.”

“He works too hard.” nodded Nat.

Others started muttering to their neighbors how they also agreed as you shook your head in utter disbelief.

You pushed off from your place on the wall, quickly gathering the attention of the others as you joined your dad at the front.

“Are you guys crazy?” you laughed nervously. “Peter doesn’t need a girlfriend! Yes, he can be hard on himself sometimes and I agree he needs a break, but that doesn’t mean you should try and shove something in his life that he has never shown any liking towards.” you explain, trying your best to sound as unsuspecting as possible.

Here in the crowd of adults, you were only Peter’s best friend and you wished to keep them in the dark for as long as possible, especially considering your father forbid you from growing a closer connection to Peter.

To your surprise, another Avenger stood to back your point as the Winter Soldier himself took on the crowd.

“She’s got a point, Tony.” Bucky agreed.

“Yes! Thank you!” you smiled, gesturing at Bucky a little too excitedly.

“We shouldn’t force the boy into something if there’s no confirmation of his own interest,” the Winter Soldier restated, earning a nod of encouragement from you. “There’s probably a reason he hasn’t gotten a girlfriend and I think we should leave him to discover himself if you know what I mean.”

“No, no that’s not what I meant,” at once you started refuting his claim. “Peter’s not gay, he’s just not interested in dating.”

“So he’s asexual? Is that what it’s called nowadays?” Steve asked, his tiny notebook of modern definitions at the ready as he pulled a pen from the pocket of his flannel pajama bottoms. He too had only just woken up.

“No. I mean yes that is a real and valid sexual identity and some people don’t have a desire to be with someone romantically, but that’s not Peter. He’s interested, just not right now.”

“How can we trust that the Tiny Stark knows what she says of the Man of Spiders?” Thor quirked a brow at your claims. You nearly blew up at him as he asked, glaring at the rest of the room on the edge of insanity from the thought of them shipping off your boyfriend to be with another.

“I’m his best friend, okay?! And I know him better than any of you so I know for a fact that he doesn’t need a girlfriend right now!”

Your father grasped your shoulder gently, a weak attempt at calming you down.

“That was exactly my next point. You’re his best friend and you’re right. You know him way better than any of us.” your father agreed. You gave him a thankful smile, glad to finally have him on your side.

“Thanks, dad-”

“That’s exactly why you’ll be out intel and our connection to Peter in ‘Operation Pair Parker.’ That way he won’t suspect anything.” he interrupted with a proud expression.

You stared at him with wide eyes.

“You already named it!? You’re kidding right? You have to be kidding. You all know this is just unbelievably crazy right?” you asked the crowd.

“I don’t see a reason why not. It’ll be good for the kid to have someone.” Natasha disagreed and by the disapproving looks from the others, you could tell her opinion was shared by the majority.

“Exactly. See everyone gets it and we need you to carry it all out,” your father continued. “I already have a few people in mind that I can pair him with. The only reason to not to would be if you know something we don’t. Peter isn’t seeing anyone, right y/n?” your father eyed you, suspicious of your relentless attitude towards his thought out plan. You knew you couldn’t own up to it, the risk of discovery was much too great, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything you could do to shut down Operation Pair Parker.

“Well, I didn’t want to expose Peter since he’s only just barely told me-” you began, hardly believing the words were leaving your lips. “-but he has been seeing someone and I think it’s getting pretty serious.”

“Oh really? And who is this girl?” your father interrogated.

“Or boy.” Bucky added.

“It’s a girl,” you clarified, hurrying to think of exactly you could pin Peter’s secret relationship on without creating too much damage. “Her name is um, MJ!” you exclaimed as the name came to you. It was perfect too as she was one of your best friends and someone Peter could’ve easily hypothetically gotten with ages ago.

“You mean the overwhelmingly unenthusiastic girl that Peter has only ever talked about once?” You could tell by his raised eyebrow and narrowed eyes that Tony didn’t believe you, but there was still time to convince him. And you would do anything to end this scheme.

“Yep,” you gritted your teeth, letting out a fake laugh that you hoped sounded convincing enough. “That’s the one, good old MJ. You know what they say, opposites attract.”

Tony wasn’t fazed as the intensity of his suspecting expression lingered on.

“You sure he isn’t seeing someone he’s closer to? You’re not dating him right?” he questioned, reminding you of the age old rule. Under no circumstance were you and Peter allowed to see each other. No matter how many battles you had fought together nor how many times he had protected you from harm. Not even if the world was on the brink of collapse. Never.

“Yeah, you’re acting pretty suspicious.” Sam chimed in.

“Is something up, y/n?” wondered Nat.

You burst into nervous laughter as you thought of a plausible excuse and your web of lies deepened.

“Oh, you guys are too good. You’ve got me! I have been seeing someone.”

“I knew it! Lady Stark is with the Man of Spiders!” Thor pointed accusingly towards you.

“You did not know that.” argued Wanda as Thor had been the least suspecting of all the Avengers up until your false confession. It didn’t help that he was also the most gullible.

“No! No, no, not Peter,” you scoffed, choking out a laugh. “His name is um… Flash!”

Your face burned red as you realized who’s name had just slipped out of your mouth. Oh why hadn’t you said Ned? At least you actually enjoyed spending time with Ned. But as your father’s face shifted and your lie began to work, you knew it was too late to go back now.

“Flash? You mean that boy who’s been mean to you and Peter since you were kids?” your father knew exactly who he was through years of his name popping up in counseling sessions Tonty provided to help you figure out how to defend yourself in public without using your powers.

“Yeah. He’s actually really nice once you get to know him and we’ve been together for a little while now.” you tried, changing your voice to match the same doting pitch it took on whenever you talked about Peter.

“Huh,” Tony pondered, but eventually shrugged the confession off as your lies snapped into place. He turned off Peter’s image on the monitor, leaving a blank black square in its place. “Well, in that case, the operation is off.”

“Alright, I guess that means I can go…” you smiled, ready to sneak off to finally grab some breakfast and more hidden moments with your real boyfriend.

“And date night is on!” Tony cheered unexpectedly.

Your eyes widened as your stomach dropped in realization of what you had just done. You and Peter were really in trouble now and it was all because you couldn’t admit the truth.

“Date night?” you repeated uneasily.

“To celebrate my children finding love, I want you both to invite your sweethearts over and we’ll have a big dinner so we can get to know them. Let Peter know he has to invite MJ.” specified your father which could only mean he expected you to invite Flash.

Oh shit. There was no getting out of it now.

“What a splendid idea.” deadpanned Vision who you could’ve sworn knew the truth about you and Peter as his room was next door. You almost glared at the android, but caught yourself.

“Yep, sure thing,” you grimaced, knowing that your lies would soon catch up to you. “And when is this whole thing supposed to be?” you asked, hoping it would be after the break so you and Peter could retreat to your separate schools instead of owning up. By then, you’d probably be able to come up with two break up stories so heart wrenching that the Avengers would understand why you would never want to date again.

“Let’s do tomorrow if we can. The sooner the better.” Tony proclaimed, pulling out his device from his pocket so that he could put the dinner into the following day’s agenda, scheduling it as a mandatory event.

You felt like you were gonna pass out.

“Great! I’ll just go tell Peter then. We’ll be ready!” you fake laughed as you walked off, truly dying inside as the crushing weight of what you had just done hit you.

Once you were out of sight of the Avengers (all of which started voting on what theme your dinner would be), you completely spaced picking up something to eat and sprinted down the hallway to Peter’s room. You stumbled in when you arrived, closing the door behind you and leaning on it, gasping for air from the rush.

“Hey baby,” Peter welcomed you back from his bed, lifting the remote to turn down the TV volume by a couple notches. “I hope you don’t mind, I started the second one, but we can totally rewind if you want…”

Confused by your lack of a reply, Peter looked at you and immediately sat up in bed, ignoring the film with a worry riddled face. The remote fell from his grasp and into the twisted sheets of his bed, never to be found again.

“Are you okay?”

You shook your head as you caught your breath, sliding down the door until you collapsed on the floor.

“No, Peter. Something terrible just happened and it’s all my fault.” you cried and curled to tuck your head into your lap. You weren’t quite to the point of tears, but it was enough distress to alert your boyfriend.

Peter sprung off his bed with a start, swinging his legs to the edge so that he could fully face you, but he was apprehensive about approaching your sullen form.

“Is it your period? Is that why you took so long? I knew I should have come to check on you…”

“No, I’m not on my period and I didn’t spend all that time in the bathroom. This is so much worse than that.” you lifted your head to speak so the words didn’t come out jumbled, but as soon as you had finished, your face returned to your lap.

Peter stood and neared you slowly, placing his hands on your forearms and squeezing you comfortingly as you lifted your head.

“I’m sure it can’t be that bad,” he assured you. “What is it?”

You inhaled deeply before rushing out a summary of the events that had taken place only moments before.

“Long story short, my dad was trying to hook you up with someone because he thinks you're so sad and lonely lately so I tried to get him off your back and now he thinks that you’re dating MJ and I’m dating Flash and we have to invite them to a big dinner with all the Avengers tomorrow.” you sputtered in one breath, gasping by the end.

“WHAT?!”

“I KNOW!”

“How are we supposed to do that? I mean maybe MJ would agree if she were even in town… maybe, but we can’t invite Flash here!”

“I know!”

“Why didn’t you say Ned?!”

“I don’t know! That’s not the point, Peter. What I’m saying is that we need to come up with something fast.”

“I think we should just tell him.” Peter confessed, not one to share your disregard for the truth. Instead, he imagined a future where he could be more open with his teammates about the love you shared, maybe even rub it into Sam and Bucky’s faces as the three held a long standing rivalry since an opposing battle at a German airport. “Better fess up now.”

“NO! Peter, my dad will KILL US if he finds out we’re together!” you shut down his suggestion, too afraid of the consequences to even contemplate telling the truth. “We’ve got to come up with something better, I can’t let him win this.”

“Ugh, you Starks and your stubbornness.” Peter groaned. While he was well informed of your father’s rule, he didn’t understand why the two of you were so competitive, especially when it came to ethicality.

“I just wished there was a way we could pull it off without inviting either of them.” you pouted, staring off into the distance when the scene playing on the screen caught your eye.

The meeting had lasted so long that while you were gone, Peter had managed to watch up to Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s secret potion escapades in the abandoned girls’ bathroom.

“Add the hairs.” directed Hermione as the golden trio sprinkled the strands into their separate goblets of green sludge, so young in only the second film in the saga.

“You're right,” Peter sighed, his attention turning to the movie at the same time as you. “Things would be so much easier if we were wizards and could make Polyjuice Potion.”

Suddenly an idea popped into your head.

“Peter! That’s it! You’re a genius.” you exclaimed, pulling away from his hold and running across the room to his closet, flipping excitedly through his collection of colored flannels.

“Thanks,” Peter blushed, moving to sit on his bed once more. “Why exactly am I a genius this time?”

Your smile widened as you came upon it, Peter’s darkest flannel that distantly resembled something your dear friend MJ would wear. You pulled it on and discarded the hanger, throwing it haphazardly to another corner of the room as you looked at your boyfriend. You beamed at him as if you had just won the lottery. For a skilled liar, stringing together a new fake story was almost as accomplishing.

“Can I borrow this?” you asked.

“Of course,” Peter obliged. “You know how I feel about you wearing my clothes. Can I just ask why this in particular?”

“We can’t ask MJ or Flash to attend themselves so we’ll just have to become them instead!”

“What do you mean?” Peter asked.

You closed your eyes and concentrated, picturing MJ in your mind and spreading your arms out from your body as the familiar tingling sensation started and your body began to change from the will of your shape shifting powers. Before long, you began to resemble the quiet girl from your school. Your hair grew longer and curled into her familiar pattern as your jawline sharpened and your limbs lengthened until the girl standing in front of Peter was no longer his girlfriend, but the one and only Michelle Jones.

You opened your eyes that now resembled her dark brown ones and smiled at him, something MJ would never do. Peter’s own face lit up as he realized what you meant.

“That’s even better than Polyjuice Potion!” he grinned, watching you nod as you looked yourself top to bottom, satisfied with the extent of your abilities.

“I think we can make this work.” you stated, moving towards Peter who was gazing at you with admiration.

“You just need to master her facial expressions. MJ would never smile that much.”

You closed your eyes again and took a deep breath as you let your smile fade away to capture MJ’s unwavering neutrality.

“That’s perfect.” Peter complimented once you had mastered it. You chuckled out of pride as your usual smile carved back onto your face along with an affectionate look as you glanced at Peter. You leaned into him, lips at the ready to peck his perfect pretty face until you were stopped by his outstretched hands.

“What?” you questioned, unused to being denied by your boyfriend.

“As much as I would love to kiss you right now, you still look like one of our best friends.” Peter explained with reddened cheeks.

“Oh right.”

Quickly, you shook off your disguised form and shifted back into yourself. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed Peter and allowed him to pull you in closer by your waist, his hand sneaking up to meet the skin under his flannel. It seemed at last he would get to have his own rendition of a perfect first morning with you.

After a few moments, he lifted away from your lips with a heavy breath to ask, “Does this mean I have to be Flash?”

You sent him a guilty smile.

“Sorry babe, but we’ve gotta do what we’ve gotta do.”

part two out now!

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writing-for-life · 8 months ago

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Right, okay, I’ve thought long and hard whether to write this:

A squick (even a strong one) is not the same as a trigger.

Emotional discomfort, even emotional discomfort that leads to low-level physical symptoms like e.g. mild nausea, is not trauma. Unfortunately, TikTok pop psych has done nothing to help people understand the difference, because the trend to perceive (even strong) emotional discomfort as equivalent to a trauma response is worrying and neither helps people with nor without PTSD. I don’t wish it on anyone to actually find out the difference if they haven’t yet (disclaimer, since this is unfortunately necessary these days because everything gets misconstrued: I am not talking about individual experiences, because only you can know about those. I’m talking about wider trends in an often young audience with not enough background info to be able to tell apart sound medical/psychological info and viral BS created by “influencers” for some kind of personal gain).

What people in the current fandom spat want to have tagged as “triggers” are overwhelmingly squicks. And we’re probably all guilty of quickly saying “that triggered me”, myself included (and I’m a licensed psychotherapist, shame on me). It has become somewhat of a shorthand for “extremely annoyed or grossed out”. But when it gets used in the context of tagging, it’s good to remember that no one owes us a tag list the length of our arm just because we don’t like certain things. Even if we strongly dislike them.

And even on the occasion someone else’s yuck or yum is an actual trigger for us, it is impossible to cover for every possible trigger, because in theory, EVERYTHING has the possibility to trigger someone somewhere.

E.g., a certain smell in a supermarket holds the rare possibility of triggering someone, but do you see disclaimers at the supermarket door that say, “May smell of 484 different things, which are in detail [list of 484 things] and might be different tomorrow. Plus, we might have a customer today who smells of that perfume that brings up your triggering childhood memories. Or maybe we won’t, but just on the odd chance we do, we thought we’d rather cover it”.

There might be one person with a very specific trigger that does literally nothing to the vast majority of people. Do we expect everyone on Tumblr to tag for “eyebrows” or “white T-Shirt” because of that? How about that person just puts “eyebrows” or “white T-Shirt” in their content filter instead?

Do we really suggest to put that type of responsibility on creators? More importantly: Who are we protecting that way? All we do is put people into bubble wrap and shift responsibility for our mental wellbeing away from ourselves to others.

We are trying to tell other people what to do for our own comfort. That’s controlling.

If we’re squicked out by something, there is a simple solution: we can stop looking or reading. We can use content (not tag) filters. In the worst case, we can block. We don’t have to put that type of responsibility for our personal sensitivities on creators (or people who reblog, for that matter).

We can tag for certain things as a courtesy, I’m all for it. I love being able to filter out stuff I’m not into, and I sometimes wish people would tag better or not tag a certain way (getting ship tags for a ship you’re not into slapped on your character-metas is annoying 🤣). But I don’t die, neither does it cause me unbearable distress, if I see cows where I don’t expect them. Scroll past or block. And if I’m worried about mature topics like nudity or violence: Tumblr has a community label for mature themes you can (and in my view should) use if in doubt. Funnily enough, many people don’t do that though—maybe because they worry about reach?

Of course we should include content warnings where they are due, no one says we shouldn’t. It’s also fair if a creator doesn’t wish to do that beyond general warnings (no specifics) though because they might give away, say, major plot points that way. In that case, general disclaimers like “contains depictions of violence”, or whatever it might be individually, are a good idea. And if that’s not specific enough for us despite knowing that “violence” in general might also contain our personal trigger, we might need to make the decision not to read it to stay safe, but we shouldn’t have a go at the writer for not tagging very specific things that might be considered spoilers.

Long story short: If we assume people are “triggered” by werewolves with vulvas or non-human characters, it might be worth thinking about whether we’re just talking about squicks that very much fall into the category of “personal responsibility”. And there are plenty solutions to that at our end—we don’t need to put that on creators…

#fandom problems #fandom entitlement #fandom stuff #squicks #vs #triggers #tagging #being grossed out or strongly disliking is uncomfortable #but it’s not the same as being triggered

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shysublimecoffee · 5 months ago

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Look this is just an opinion not a fact don't get into such a tussle over a stanger opinion on a book of all things which are meant for entertainment. How I view this doesn't effect you nor do you take it as fact in fact youre free to disagree don't care.

It fucking says a lot about Shen Jiu as a character and the fandom as a whole in fanfics when the majority of them make him in fanfics having a better turn around in his life is always when a respected man is attached to hip usually( Liu Qingge) or acts as a voucher for people to even see him past his shell or his lies about the true reason he goes to the brothel goes out the window because otherwise he's a liar, a no-good and lecher and scum villain and because he's so emotional and volatile people do not respect him as a peakleader at all. He doesn't have a voice like it's telling me he's so female-coded cause ladies knows how dangerous people giving character assassination at your person could do tons of damage to your future prospects in future life and honestly I really like even though the ficwriters don't outright say it cause it subtle how majority every man and person in his life have taken away his autonomy and I find the most egregious example SY not actually giving a fuck about the person of the body he's inhabited and him not emoting at all when he saw the OG being abused and still validating LBG like if even the modern man from another era doesn't give a shit either someone who has to have sensible morals in society and even he doesn't care . This dynamic reflects a lot how society often undermines individuals who don't fit its norms, stripping them of their autonomy and dignity. SJ's struggle for respect and recognition in the story mirrors real-world issues of power and validation.

Everyone prefers SY. I'm not going to act as if I'm better though in real-life same I'd like him more too but his martial siblings barley tried. If they dislike him whatevs, but you guys are not at all suspicious about the 180 change in behavior how the kid he used to hurt and abuse is now being loved and pampered wtf??? Don't you guys owe him that much to investigate.

They could have tried to dig deeper aside from the one time they test him for possession but they didn't because they prefer the new and improved him". It actually so telling how the author chose someone of such a rich and idle pampered background to be transmigrated to the villain who's origin the very opposite of that and yet seemingly integrated himself better and incorporate better relationship with them then SJ.

The cultivation world, as well as the characters within it, reflect deep-seated classist attitudes. SJ's rough background and survival tactics make him an outsider, whereas SY, coming from a more privileged background, can navigate and be accepted more easily.

What does that actually say exactly that someone of a better background get along with the peaklords but not SJ because with our SJ he's a fighter and biter, he plays dirty to win in their eyes, he a lecher every inconceivable things is literally placed onto him just based on their perception of him. Is it that unconsciously they could tell SJ is not of of them or am I looking to deep haha??? The cultivation world is very classist is not news to anyone and that being the exploration in MXTX next book and how WWX background being how he literally met his end because of it says an actually lot how she took the things from this story and incorporate it into her next book.

The entire story had me retrospectively think hard how SJ voice is silent and yet to me at least he stills haunts the narrative because of it then when you get to the reveal about his backstory it makes you fucking think of him as an actual person and not just an object as a vehicle for the main character to just insert himself in because no matter the nature of a person it stills their body.

Like i've seen some fans even reflect this saying it not his fault that he transmigrated or he deserved it's technically his body and that he's a better person than SJ. At first, I agreed but then I took some time to process this. I don't care about SJ actions and his nature if it at the expense of his fucking body. SY can live for many many years but he's not SQQ unless he reincarnated like Airplane like it makes me want to me want to debates about transmigration. SY is his own person an adult with memories he has his own thoughts and feelings so when he transmigrated he took over the manual controls but that doesn't mean he's actually SQQ because he's not he's a pampered millennial.

In Otome Isekai (OI) stories, the original souls often face bad endings, while the transmigrators, who are modern characters inhabiting and thriving in these disliked bodies, desperately try to avoid such fates. They manage to charm the original male leads and are so focused on changing the story's trajectory that they can't accept its original path. This comparison to OI highlights how these characters' actions mirror Shen Yuan's (SY) predicament. The original person's identity and struggles are dismissed for the sake of the new character's journey, leading to the erasure of the original identity.

I don't vibe much with Shen Yuan because he seems very indifferent. The world revolves around him and his bias, much like many other transmigration novels where the MCs are similar. I find it hard to connect with a MC whose actions, even bold, lack a genuine foundation with other characters because they continue to see them not as people but character roles they're supposed to fulfill. He does everything to save himself, not from the sincere intention. His reaction to the death of GXY was cold af.

I don't like transmigration stories for this reason. They're often treated more as reader-inserts for fix-it fanfiction. We rarely learn about the characters' past lives, so we end up thinking of them as the person they transmigrated into, rather than who they were before. All we know of before was he was cyber-bullying and harassing the author and a troll so an asshole, basically.

If you guys don't know about OtomeIsekai basically we have bunch of modern day Koreans jumping into european white women bodies and inhabiting their bodies and living vicariously through them basically wish-fufillment bullshit trash . 9/10 nobody notices because this is a person who is widely disliked and despised and because no-one cared for the OG soul it easier to just go under the radar hell even the MC don't give a shit to so we have another MC that become so beloved in the eyes of the ML and how she bewitched everyone into loving her.

Transmigration is literal horror. " His Present" a short story I read from novel-updates where it literally based on this very concept where his loved ones preferred the imposter ugh made me bawl.

It makes me think about transmigration. Does it truly matter if the person who took over lived much longer than the original soul does that make them "THEM" ? I actually do appreciate SJ backstory being added but like now with transmigration just popping off on internet novels where the concept is everywhere where the original soul is discarded and the new one is celebrated, kinda adds a layer of tragedy and ethical dilemma to the narrative. It questions the validity of the new identity and the consequences of such an erasure. I'm always biased for the OG souls maybe that why a lot of SJ fics make him the character who is most suppressed by his role as scum villain succeed in making him heard to be listened to and mattered.

Imma nap lol this rant was loooong!!!

#shen jiu #svsss #shen yuan critical

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ollypopwrites · 7 months ago

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From Depths Unknown ; Part 3

Part 1 ⚜ Part 2 ⚜ Ao3

Rolan x F!Tav (AFAB, she/her) *Tav is a Storm Sorcerer, but no actual reference to her appearance.

Rating: E

Tags & Warnings: [18+ MDNI] Language, Canon-typical violence (there is a lot discussion of blood and injuries in this chapter), Major Character Death, Sexual Content (mostly just horny thoughts), background Bloodweave.

Chapter Summary:

Not even Moonrise Tower nor the Shadowcursed land had been this hectic. They dodged rains of incredible fire from dragons, psionic blast from nautiloids and falling debris from buildings crashing around them. Fighting their way through an army of cultists, mindflayers and intellectual devourers, her team felt as united as ever. Everyone felt the finality of it.

Notes: I wanted some whump, okay? I promise they will fuck eventually.

“Rolan? Really? I thought he hated your guts.”

“You haven’t seen him pining from afar?” Shadowheart asked dramatically.

“Honestly, Tav, he’s a decent bloke,” Wyll said. “A bit rough around the edges —“

“A bit?!” Karlach protested.

“Alright, quite rough around the edges,” Wyll amended.

“And pompous,” Shadowheart added.

“Completely up his own ass,” Karlach agreed.

“Alright!” Tav said, “I’ve told you all, nothing happened.”

Her and Rolan had been camp gossip from the moment they had walked into their suite; Tav had a hangover and a strong need for coffee, while Rolan was stiff with embarrassment at the questioning looks from her companions. He couldn’t stay long, but they had food and tea and coffee, which was the least she could offer him. She remembered most of the night: the crying, yelling and him having to arrange a makeshift bed for her. As it was embarrassing as it was, she felt a little better getting it all off of her chest. The details were fuzzy, but she knew she had come on to him. While nothing untoward had happened, the camp only saw their leader come through the doors looking bedraggled with an equally out of sorts tiefling wizard. Tongues had been sent wagging immediately.

“But you do fancy him, don’t you?” Karlach asked.

She took a deep breath. “Can we focus on the task at hand?”

“Only after you admit you want to shag the grumpy wizard,” Shadowheart teased.

“Fine, fine!” Tav felt like tearing out her hair. “Yes, yes I like him. Okay. Can we move on now?”

“Sheesh,” Karlach breathed. “Take him to bed, mate. You need it.”

She didn’t need Karlach to tell her that. She pushed on, ignoring them. Wyll, however, caught up quickly to her.

“I won’t lie to you, my friend, he hasn’t made the best impression,” he told her. “But he’s truly a good man.”

“I know that.”

“So, are you going to come clean about what happened on the roof then?” He was grinning, boyish and mischievous.

“Not you too, Wyll, please you were my last hope.”

Her only saving grace was that they found their way to an unusual engineer named Redhammer and his submersible, which happened to be the same culprit that had killed one the the priestesses of Umberlee. While she had half agreed to kill or hand him over if she found him, he offered an opportunity to find the hostage Gondians in the Iron Throne. Tav decided to take some inspiration from Astarion, using him to get down to the Iron Throne before she ultimately left his fate up to Umberlee's order. She thought she should have felt guilty, but he had been so casual about killing the priestess and transporting hostages she found herself lacking any real remorse. After the tadpole was out of her head, she thought she may have to reassess her moral compass.

After saving the Gondians, Duke Ravengaurd himself and their old friend Omeluum she was happy to be alive and not blown to bits at the bottom of the Chionthar. The priestesses of Umberlee had even rewarded them with a beautiful robe in exchange for finding Redhammer. Gale was the only other person it would have been suited for and he was too embarrassed to wear it despite the entire camp teasing him about it. It was a bit risqué, but when Tav slipped it on she felt it cling to her body and the strange fabric was so damn comfortable she felt as if it were a second skin. She quite liked it.

They made their way to Sorcerer’s Sundries, knowing the next day would be their chance to finish up the infiltration of the Steelwatch Foundry. Tav was sure Gortash would not bring the Steelwatch down on them right away. The last thing he needed was his army of metal titans tearing apart the city to find them, civilians would inevitably get hurt and then they would get angry. Gortash needed a city scared but ready to cling to a tyrant that could keep them safe, not ready to revolt for stepping on their children. They had to move, but she wanted to let him sweat and take time to get ready for their final push.

The foundry, the hammer, the last Netherstone. Then the brain. There was finally a light at the end of the tunnel.

Rolan was rarely in the shop these days. His mirror image had taken his position at the counter, helped along by the other specialists and Cal or Lia. Tav made her way upstairs; despite her pride she owed Rolan thanks for the night before and an apology for the teasing her friends had thrown his way in the wake of it. And she wondered if he’d like her new robes. It was silly, and pointless in the face of everything else that was going on but the desire was there, hiding behind her ‘noble’ reasons for disturbing him in the middle of the day. She made her way through the portal which led to the study Rolan was now using as his own office throughout the day. The blood, ash and bodies had all been cleared away — the decadent room was still in process of being redone to Rolan’s standards but it had come a long way since Lorroakan’s death.

“Rolan?” She called.

“A minute, please,” he replied from the balcony.

Tav rolled her eyes, muttering about wizards and their books. She strolled about the room. He seemed to be in the process of organizing tomes, one of the animated suits of armor was picking up a stack piled on the ground and taking it through another portal. She recalled him mentioning a library, and wanting to cultivate his own favorites for the study. It was his, now, after all.

“Please tell me you didn’t wear that into battle?”

When he had heard Tav’s voice carry through the study, he noted a lack of distinct irritation at being interrupted. Another sign that Tav was becoming worryingly exempt from his usual ‘prick-ish particularities’ as Cal had so kindly put it. He had just seen her that morning and as awkward as breakfast had been amongst her companions, he had to force himself to finish putting books on the shelf before heading down the stairs. He needed to retain some of his dignity, after all, despite his desire to eagerly stop everything he was doing at the sound of her voice. Tav waited for him below, and as usual, he took a mental note of any new injuries she may have acquired.

Robes with pieces of protective gear was what she normally wore. Soft leathers and sturdy cotton robes, with something to protect her vulnerable points. Even out of armor she usually only wore a simple tunic and cloth pants. His surprise to find her at the center of his study in an outfit that was all flesh and skin tight fabric made him stop in his tracks. The light blue ensemble clung to every curve, dipped low between her breasts (that damned pearl dangling at the center of her chest matched well with this new outfit, he noted), and was slit at the legs so all he saw was skin bared up to a concerning height on her thighs. Her worn leather boots stuck out, not quite fitting in with the sleek outfit, but that did nothing to preserve him from staring dumbly.

His momentary gawking was interrupted when he realized this scrap of fabric was meant to be armor. All the soft spots of her were exposed to cuts and bruises.

“Please tell me you didn’t wear that into battle?”

“You don’t like it?”

“That’s hardly the point I’m trying to make,” he said quickly.

“Then what is the point?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he said. “You can’t wear that in a fight. It’s…”

Ravishing. So easy to slide aside so I could have any part of you I wanted, he thought.

“Impractical.” He said aloud.

“And you decide what I wear now?”

“No,” he replied through grit teeth. “Of course not.”

“Well, I like it.” Tav shrugged him off, turning away and walking around to look at his progress in the study.

The dress was just as tight in the back, he noticed, his mind reeling and his pulse thrumming. “Where did you even get it?”

“It was a gift from the priestesses of Umberlee,” she said.

“And what, pray tell, did you do to earn it?”

“Freed some hostages in a prison at the bottom of the Chionthar and found the man who killed one of their order.” She listed casually. “Duke Ravenguard was down there, if you can believe it. And then Archduke Gortash, magnanimous man that he is, tried to blow us up,” her tone dripped with sarcasm, “it’s been quite a day.”

“Your usual heroics, then,” he grit out.

“Of course,” she grinned, and everything about the smile was a challenge, a tease, and he was certain he never wanted her so badly. “I know you love to hear about my gallantry. Not bad for a girl who started the day with a terrible hangover, I think.”

“Is there a point to your visit?” He asked tersely.

“Actually, yes,” she finally came up to him.

Close enough to touch. The fabric looked soft, and shimmery, probably pleasant enough to run his hands over but the exposed space between her breasts seemed particularly ripe for licking. His jaw clenched as he made the Herculean effort to look her in the eyes. The teasing look she had before was gone, something a little more bashful and sweet. It only made it harder to keep his hands to himself.

“I wanted to say thank you for last night.” She said, “I don’t remember all of it… but I know I was not at my best. Thanks for putting up with me, and sorry my friends are busybodies.”

Rolan didn’t know what to say. A whirlwind was inside him. Pure want and affection. Irritation at said want and affection. Irritation at himself for not being able to just say what he wanted to. This was all getting entirely out of hand.

“How is your arm?”

“My….arm?”

“You’re still scarred, from that ring you so foolishly put on when you had no idea what it did,” he snapped.

“Oh, that,” she deflated. “Fine. Just these marks,” she pushed back the sleeves of the robe to look at them. “Gale thinks it was some kind of connection to the elemental plane.” At his responding silence she shifted awkwardly. “Okay,” she drew out the word, “I’m going to go.”

“Goodbye.”

He stayed to watch her go, eyes glued to the way the robes clung to her bottom, the shift of the fabric and delicate metalwork over her exposed legs.

“You can’t wear that,” he blurted out. “Not in battle. You’ll be ripped to shreds.”

And so would the robe itself, which would be a terrible shame in and of itself, the more he thought about it.

“You said that already.”

“It bears repeating.”

She rolled her eyes. “Goodbye, Rolan.”

As she stepped through the portal and he was left alone he groaned, rubbing both hands over his face, as he muttered to himself, “you’re going to kill me you meddlesome, irritating, beautiful woman.”

While there had been little notice before the Netherbrain broke free and started unleashing terror on the city, Tav had at least warned her allies ahead of time that it could happen any day at any time. With Rolan’s permission, Counselor Florrick had spread the word that the tower was going to be one point of haven in the city. It had protections and wards, and plenty of space. When all hells broke loose, Cal and Lia were holding down the fort while he made his way to High Hall. Thankfully most of the fighting was happening in the upper city, but mind flayers were running rampant, the sky was red with fire, full of errant blasts from nautiloids and dragons.

He sent civilian healers as he found them to the tower, instructing them to take whoever they could with them. The high hall was crowded, Flaming Fists taking account of all the allies of Tav’s which had gathered. Many of them he recognized, some he had never seen before, but his heart swelled with pride at the gathering of people who were ready to support Tav and her friends.

When she came through the door with all her camp in tow, smattered in blood, as she always was, he thought she may cry at the showing. There wasn’t much time, but she took a moment to appraise them of her plan. Her entire party would take the main push to the brain, along with the illithid she had with her. There was no time to explain, she only assured them that this person — Orpheus, was on their side. She needed anyone she did not call to her side to focus on protecting the few points of refuge they had managed to secure in the city, and above all to keep as many civilians safe as possible. She was given means to summon her allies as needed.

As Tav made the quick effort to offer thanks to everyone individually, he felt the terror of it being the last time he saw her. This was not the Tav which he’d had drinks with at the Elfsong every night leading up to this battle, laughing with her friends, carefree for just a few hours. This was the woman who had lead four people to victory against a small army of Goblins, who stormed Moonrise towers and lifted the curse over Reithwin. Focused, determined and if she was scared it never once showed on her face. Only the storm dancing behind her eyes, calm before she exploded into action.

Rolan had to believe the next time he’d see her, she would be relaxed and teasing him about something over a glass of wine. As she approached him last, before heading out to save the city, he bolstered himself to be whatever she and the rest of the people of Baldur’s Gate needed.

“The tower is ready, you need only call.” He told her swiftly.

“Thank you.” She nodded. “Rolan, I — “ she bit her lip and clenched her eyes shut. “If I survive this —“

“You will,” he said certainly.

“If I do,” she repeated, eyes boring into his with earnesty he hardly knew how to deal with, “would you like to join me for a bottle of Arabellan Dry?”

“Are you asking me on a date? Right now?” As if to punctuate his point the ground shook, horrible screeching sounds and the roar of a dragon sounded out.

“Might be my last chance,” she breathed.

“It won’t be,” he insisted. If she was going to be bold enough to ask him out for a drink before running off to certain death — he had to rise to the challenge. He grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips. “You’ll come back to me, gloriously and infuriatingly victorious.”

If he said it confidently enough it may just come true. It had worked for him before.

Tav nodded, squeezing his hand in hers. She hesitated, but there was little time for more to be said. She suddenly began to dig under the collar of her armored robes with her free hand. After fidgeting for a moment with something around her neck she held out the chain of the necklace which held her Pearl of Power.

“Can you hold onto it for me? I don’t want to lose it again.”

“You may need it,” he was unsure what else to say.

“Already used it today,” she said, “it’s just sentimental right now. And just — hold onto it. Please.”

Tav took his hand and placed the necklace into his palm, gently curling his fingers over it. It was such a small trinket, but the implications of her leaving it with him made it feel immeasurably valuable. He thought he would rather die than let it come to any harm. The dramatics of such a train of thought struck him so violently with the realization that he was undoubtedly in love. The terrible timing for such an epiphany was only emphasized by a loud boom on the roof and the shudder of dust and small bits of debris raining down on them.

Tav let go of his hand and with a determination in her eye he knew all too well, led her party out into the midst of terror with no other word.

There was no time to stop.

Not even Moonrise nor the Shadowcursed land had been this hectic. They dodged rains of incredible fire from dragons, psionic blast from nautiloids and falling debris from buildings crashing around them. Fighting their way through an army of cultists, mindflayers and intellectual devourers, her team felt as united as ever. Everyone felt the finality of it. She had seen Astarion and Gale share what they thought might possibly be their last kiss. Watching them felt like an intrusion, but the glance she had gotten of desperate softness in their eyes made her more determined than ever. Tav silently vowed that she would come out of this with everyone alive and ready to begin anew.

When they finally found the stalk of the Elderbrain it led higher and higher up over the city. She felt the adrenaline spurring her to start to climb, and she didn’t have to look behind her to know they followed. At the top it was an onslaught of psionic forces: the netherbrain, the illithids it commanded, and the tadpoles in their heads revolting at every move they made to fight against them. There were moments that blanked out, as she was stunned or her head hurt so badly she felt she couldn’t see. They were all moving on pure instinct to survive.

Karlach’s rage was an unstoppable force, Lae’zel cut down anyone in her path with brutal efficiency, and the only thing more intense than the amount of healing magic Shadowheart was expending was the force with which she brought down her mace. Jaheira and Halsin were in charge of summoning reinforcements as needed, controlling the battlefield with Druidic magic while Gale sent off spell after spell with devastating effect. Astarion and Wyll danced around the battlefield; Wyll’s combined magic and skill with the blade making him virtually untouchable while Astarion flitted in and out of visibility, daggers digging into flesh with deadly accuracy.

And she exploded with magic.

Her arm hurt, the flowing lines of whatever had touched her when she put on that ring in the tower glowed and raged as she gave everything she had. When she felt she had nothing left, it fed her new power, keeping a steady stream of lightning ready to strike. There was not a lot of time to think on this new development, only time to acknowledge that whatever it did to her, her magic was thriving on it. Her magic felt centered for the first time in her life. Controllable, not just something she was barely wrangling and flinging around blindly.

The last push to the crown was upon them. The way just needed to be cleared, she called to Halsin over the clamor of it all, tadpole transmitting to the others her plan. In truly rumbling cacophony explosions rained down, almost clearing their path. For a moment she took in the show of power from Ramazith’s Tower, but they had to bolt forward.

Lae’zel took the lead, attacking an illithid arcanist guarding the portal they needed to get into. Gale was quick behind her, magic missiles firing off in every direction and counterspell quickly cast afterwards. Karlach was keeping the way clear, as more illithid were summoned, hacking at tentacled heads until they rolled off. Tav took off for the portal, only to come face to face with her father.

No. It was her dream guardian. The Emperor’s trick.

When she had first seen the man in her dreams she had thought the same thing: he was just similar looking enough to her dear old dad to get her guard down but not so identical it would ring off alarm bells in her mind. Tav’s father was dead, after all, the Emperor had toed the line of familiarity on purpose. The single moment of hesitation was enough for the guardian to blast her with psionic energy, knocking her off of her feet. An intellect devourer took its chance and leapt onto her. Searing pain spread through her abdomen as claws dug in and tore. It was climbing up her body, ripping skin with every step. Her arm was pinned underneath one of its horrid legs, unable to cast, and she felt the thunderous pulse in her chest, the tingle of electricity in her veins — and then a dagger came down stopping the devourer in its tracks.

Astarion was above her, kicking the thing off of her. With a cry she felt the claws slip loose, blood pouring out of the wounds. The pain slipped away to the back of her mind as she flung forward, hands outstretched when a chain of lightning erupted at another dream guardian which tried to stop Gale. Astarion helped her to her feet, shoving a meager healing potion at her. It was not enough to close the wounds, but it gave her a rush of new vitality and they ran for the portal

This was it. This was the final task. All they had to do was survive long enough to take out the Netherbrain.

After setting off the blasts at Halsin’s command, Rolan had launched himself halfway down the stairs, nearly stumbling and stepping on his own tail. There were a handful of Flaming Fists, armed civilians, Cal, Lia and even Aradin guarding the perimeter of the tower; he had to go join them. The store was always chaotic with all the summons wandering around and magical effects but this was a different vein of mayhem. Anyone he could find with healing magic along the way was running around, people were screaming and crying on the floors and any clear surface available.

It sounded like Elturel.

Shaking his head of the thought, he pushed through the doors. People were still running, trying to get through the doors of the tower and whatever building still stood to get away from the carnage. The square was full of bodies and blood and rubble. He spotted Cal and Lia, both alive and fighting well. Cal’s swing was strong, Lia’s aim was impeccable — he was able to focus on casting. An illithid floated forward, chasing after a meal of one of the Flaming Fists' brains, Rolan quickly cast color spray, confusing the creature and shortly after one of Lia’s arrows sunk into its elongated head.

Cal got stunned, his head in his hands as he wobbled on his feet, two mindflayers floating towards him. Rolan nearly tripped over his robes to grab his brother by his shirt and pull him back, Cal fell and as soon as he was out of the line of attack Rolan felt the boom of thunder erupt from his hand. The illithids were sent backwards, landing on their back, prone.

“Cal,” he turned to offer a hand to his brother, “stay steady.”

“Yeah,” Cal grunted, shaking his head free of the psionic force which had stunned him. “I’m good, I’m alright.”

“Rolan! Incoming!”

Lia’s voice called out before she let an arrow loose. His eyes flicked to the sky, a nautiloid was overhead, a beam of some sort beginning to glow with energy.

“To me! Now!”

Aradin and anyone nearby enough to hear him huddled close, Rolan swiftly casting an orb of invulnerability. He had never cast it before, not successfully, but it was all he could think of to try. A slight red shimmer created a bubble around them, the nautiloid made its attack. A few people were decimated by the blow immediately outside of the orb, even a ravenous illithid in the middle of extracting a brain from a skull had not made it out of the way in time. The spell worked. Rubble flew into the air with the blast, and stopped bluntly at the barrier.

Thank the Gods. Rolan thought to himself, sweat beading down his temple.

Lia ducked in and out of the orb to shoot off arrows, clearing the path for some to make their way to the tower or within the confines of Rolan’s temporary protection. He managed to keep the orb up long enough for the blasts to cede after the nautiloid was distracted from attacking the ground by a Githyanki force of dragon riders.

“There’s more coming!” Aradin yelled. “We should fall back into the tower.”

“The wards can only take so much,” Rolan snapped back. “Get out there and kill something or get out of the way!”

He never understood Zevlor’s well-known ire for the mercenary more as he fled inside. As he had said, more illithids came out of the woodwork. The alien army had not found it necessary to send any armored mind flayers — relying on the freshly transformed tadpoled masses which had been lurking in the city. They had numbers, but most of them were stark naked, and sloppy in the unusual new bodies. Many of them fell quickly, which was his only comfort against the slowly dwindling numbers of his own allies. If they just kept it up, they could maintain the line of defense around the tower.

“Come on, Tav,” he heard Lia scream as another Flaming Fist fell to an illithid. “Just kill it already!”

There was no way for Tav to hear them, but he understood the panic. He felt each second that passed since he set off the blasts from the tower as if it were an hour. They could not keep this up forever, and part of him knew that as intense as it was on the ground, up there where the brain hovered in the air it was ten times worse.

“Tav needs us to hold strong,” he called to his sister. “We owe her that, at least.”

Lia was too far away for him to be sure but thought he saw her jaw set in the same way Cal’s did when he was concentrating. His brother felled an illithid in one blow, clean and easy at the neck.

“Can’t believe I’m saying this,” Cal said, “but Rolan is right!”

It truly was the end of the world.

When Tav hit the water, she blacked out for a moment. Her eyes opened and the gasp that wracked her body filled her mouth and lungs with water as she realized too late in her waking that she was in the Chionthar. She floundered to the surface, hacking and coughing. Once she had her breath, she started screaming for her companions.

“Here!” Gale yelled.

He was not too far off from her, hanging onto some floating debris, with an unmoving lump with white hair. She swam over, grabbing onto the debris.

“Is he alive?” She panicked.

“Breathing,” Astarion’s voice was weak, “stop screaming.”

“Where’s everyone else?” Tav felt herself succumbing to the confusion. “Karlach! Have you seen anyone? Wyll!”

“I’ve got Shadowheart and Wyll!” She heard Karlach call, a red spot in the distance, tethering two limp bodies as she kept them on their backs.

Lae’zel, Halsin, Minsc and Jaheira were still unaccounted for. Tav’s eyes scanned the water, dawn hadn’t broken yet, it was still dark and the depths below were impossible to see into. The only real light was provided by the city which was still very much on fire. Just as Tav was about to give into despair, a giant tentacle broke the water, then another, in its grips was an unconscious Lae’zel, and Minsc who was sputtering and cackling like a madman. Finally a third, and Halsin broke the surface.

“Minsc! Where’s Jaheira?”

“You look upon her!” He called back.

Wild shape was one hell of a thing. Tav called to the giant octopus whose eye peered into hers as it breached the surface, telling Jaheira to grab Karlach first as she was treading water and trying to keep two people afloat at the same time. Tav watched, only vaguely hearing Astarion and Gale speaking next to her. She needed to see them all safely put upon the dock, she needed to know she had done it. She hadn’t lost anyone.

“Stop trying to talk to me,” Astarion muttered. “I’m furious with you.”

“My love, I would have made sure you were transported out of harm's way,” Gale attempted to sooth him.

“And what about you?” Astarion snapped. “What was I supposed to do without you?”

She was not quite sure what they were talking about.

“We were losing, Astarion,” Gale pleaded. “The orb may have been—“

“The orb?” Tav heard her neck crack as she swung her head so fast to look at him. She felt dizzy.

“He very nearly blew himself up, again,” Astarion seethed. “I saw him reach for the dagger.”

“Gale!” Tav scolded. “I told you — not an option!”

“Tav, please, if all else failed —“

“But it didn’t!” She yelled.

“No,” he sighed. “No, it did not. So please, can we make it to land and put this to rest.”

Just as Tav was about to argue with him, she felt a tug at her midsection, and uncomfortable stinging of pain accompanying the grasp. Astarion and Gale were lifted out of the water by tentacles at the same time she was and they were being slowly carried to the dock. It was supposed to be over once they all made it on dry land. She had given in to the hope that she had finally led her party to their final battle without losing a single member. The victory was supposed to be sweet, and cathartic.

The moment they caught their breath on the dock, Karlach’s engine started to fail.

The main floor of the store was cleared of most furniture to make room for cots full of injured people. Amateur and professional healers alike were running around madly, calling for aid from whoever was still standing. To his credit, he had begun to organize as best he could. It was still chaos, but he was managing to take requests, send off whatever volunteer was nearest to assist, and have Cal take on grabbing potions and herbs from the stores as needed. Rolan was no healer, but he could wrap a wound before too much blood was lost as some poor soul waited for someone to be available. He could also bark orders, arrange for Fists to section off high risk patients from those who could survive without immediate attention.

There were two surgeons he had managed to recruit. Their space was at the very back near the necromancy supplies were, with a temporary shielding wall of stone. It didn’t drown the screams of agony as they operated but it prevented anyone from witnessing an amputation.

When the heroes of the hour burst through the door of the tower, even amongst the chaos, Rolan knew something was wrong. They looked like hell. Jaheira was bleeding from a deep wound on her head, Shadowheart was limping, and even Minsc who was always quick to get back on his feet looked like he had been thrown from a twenty story building and felt it. A good chunk of the party was missing. Wyll and Karlach were nowhere to be seen. In fact way too many of them were just gone. Astarion, Gale and Lae’zel didn’t follow, and neither did Tav. Halsin was the very last of them in, carrying someone.

“A bed! Now!” The Archdruid’s voice boomed over the chaos

A humming sound rang in his ears, the entire world pinpointed to the form of the woman in Halsin’s arms as he was directed to place her on a free bed by a Fist.

Rolan let his feet guide him to her side, a numb feeling keeping panic at bay. On the bed was a bloody mess of a woman, who in all appearances looked like Tav but… That surely wasn’t his Tav. That was an empty shell; the skin had no vibrancy, the only truly bright color was the blood leaking out of the deep wound in her stomach. Her eyes, open staring up at the ceiling, were empty.

Shadowheart placed her hands over Tav and the glow of her healing magic flashed and ebbed away. She tried again, but the magic stuttered out. Shadowheart let out a strangled scream in frustration, pounding glowing hands into Tav's chest and each rush of power was weaker and weaker.

“What are you doing? Heal her,” Rolan demanded. “Fix her!”

“I can’t —“ Shadowheart’s voice cracked.

“Shadowheart’s magic is spent,” Jaheira’s tone was sharp but even, the voice of a General. “And healing magic won’t work on her now. This is a magic shop — find a resurrection scroll.”

Resurrection implied she was dead. Logically, yes, he could see that. Tav was dead, nothing more than spent flesh and blood. But this was not supposed to happen, this was beyond everything he knew of her.

She always survives. She always does the impossible. She can't be dead.

“How did this happen?”

“Rolan,” Shadowheart pleaded his name, disregarding the question, “do you have a resurrection scroll?”

The buzzing in his ears stopped, the cacophony of the tower coming back to him. A solution that he could focus on. He took off in a sprint, jumping over the counter. His hands shook as he opened the safe where they kept the high value scrolls.

“Rolan, that Florrick lady is here, she brought some — what’s wrong?”

He didn’t hear Lia come up, and didn’t take the time to acknowledge her as he started reading through the stock. “We must have one.”

“Talk to me,” Lia said again getting his attention, “what’s happened?”

An idea jolted him, there were stores and stores of supplies in the study. “Upstairs, in the study, the scroll collection —“ he quickly said, “we need a resurrection scroll.”

“But —“

“Check the vaults, check the study — find me a resurrection scroll!”

Taking in his frantic tone, Lia ran off without further question. There was no possible way this was how Tav’s story ended. In a numb haze he remembered what little he knew about healing and divine magic; there was a time limit on a basic resurrection spell. At some point a soul was too far gone and True Resurrection would be the only other option. Plain resurrection scrolls were rare enough as it was, but a True Resurrection scroll was near impossible for most people to get ahold of.

Chain of lightning, hold person, cloud kill — his hands fumbled to work as fast as he read the scrolls. He had no real idea how much time was passing, but each second was too long. There were dozens of scrolls, and he looked at each one. Finding nothing of use he ran around the counter to start up the stairs.

He should have told her at High Hall. He should have just said it. He should have thought to find a scroll ahead of time for this very purpose. What a cosmic joke, for her to have made it this far, only to die at the finish line. She deserved better. He would make sure she got a better ending than this. He nearly ran into Lia jumping the last few steps of the staircase.

“I found one!”

She held up the scroll and he snatched it out of her hand, narrowly dodging a healer as he ran to the bed where Shadowheart was praying desperately.

“Found — the scroll —“ he stammered out, short of breath.

“Use it, quickly,” Jaheira said.

His fingers fumbled with the clasp that held it shut, as it unfurled he knew he needed to breathe through the panic in his chest. He could do an incantation, he could read the words off of a scroll as he had a hundred times before. There was not a God he prayed to usually, not one he thought to plead with specifically. Mystra, maybe. But given what he knew of her and her friends, Mystra might not be so inclined to help Tav.

His willpower would have to be enough; this was not how her story ended, he repeated to himself. She was too good, too resilient, too kind, too forgiving, too infuriatingly wonderful — too loved. Rolan was not going to let her disappear that easily, he vowed as he spoke the incantation.

The spell took hold, golden light shuddering Tav’s body, and then disappearing. For a terrifyingly long moment, he was unsure if it worked. But her eyes blinked, at first it looked like a twitch, but then they fluttered a few times and the light was back in them. Her limbs jolted like she had been electrocuted and then a truly shocking deep gasp for air had her sitting up on the cot.

“There you are, Cub,” Jaheira said, a steady hand on her shoulder which emitted the familiar green light of her Druidic magic. “Didn’t think we’d let you get out of cleaning up, did you?”

“Hurts,” she sucked breaths in desperately.

“Lay down,” Shadowheart said. “We’ll find a healer.”

“Where —?”

Rolan was frozen to the spot. She still looked so close to death. Her head swiveled over to him, eyes confusedly still searching for some sense of what was going on.

“You.” Was all she said.

“Yeah, me,” he breathed. “Lay down. You look awful.”

“Rude,” she wheezed but let herself ease onto her back. “I think you look… good…” exhaustion, pain or any combination of whatever her body was going through had her slipping out of consciousness.

“Tav,” Rolan panicked, kneeling next to her. “Damn you, stay awake,” he grabbed her face in his hands and she gave him a heavy lidded stare.

“Trying,” she said.

She was still in rough shape. Halsin and Jahiera dumped the last dregs of their limited healing magic into her, doing just enough to keep her from bleeding out on the bed once more. Shadowheart tipped her head back for a basic healing potion, and it dribbled down the side of her face but it brought some of the vibrancy of her skin.

“She won’t succumb to the wounds, but she needs healing quickly,” Halsin seemed to be talking to himself more than them, as he took off to find someone to help.

“You can rest now,” Shadowheart assured her softly. “Right, Rolan?”

He wasn’t so sure. But Shadowheart was a healer, she knew better than him. He swallowed hard, and nodded. “That’s right.”

“Good,” Tav mumbled, “tired.”

Shadowheart and Rolan watched as she slipped into unconsciousness. Her chest rose and fell, although shallowly. Shadowheart heaved a big breath, recomposing herself. She looked around the room, and then to Rolan.

“I need to rest, then I’ll be able to help,” she seemed to be telling herself rather than him. “I’ll stay here,” she said, “I’ll stay with her and rest.”

“What can I do?” Rolan asked desperately.

“You are the Master of Ramazith’s tower,” Jahiera cut in. “This is your city, you have a duty to its people now — unless you wish to follow Lorroakan’s example, get to work.” Jaheira looked down at Tav, “we will look after her, as she has looked after us.”

Rolan never felt more like an outsider, and he felt he should watch whatever healer Halsin found. If only to see for himself that she was truly going to be alright. Shadowheart was watching the rise and fall of her chest with intense focus, and it felt wrong that she was the only one of their original group by her side.

“Rolan, there’s a fire that they can’t put out over in Heapside,” Cal was there, Rolan hadn’t even heard him approach.

“There’s summoning scrolls, water elementals,” he said distractedly.

“Go,” Shadowheart looked at him. “We’ve got her.”

“And that is supposed to be a comfort?” He snapped. “She was dead just moments ago under your watch!”

“She didn’t tell us,” Shadowheart said back, a tone of shame in her raised voice. “Everything was happening so fast — she didn’t tell us she was hurt!”

“No one here is to blame,” Jaheira was annoyed, he could tell by the arch of her brow. “She would tell you the same.”

He felt another comment on the tip of his tongue, ready to rage and yell to do something with the gods awful feeling in his chest. He nearly lost her.

“Rolan,” Cal said, “we have to —“

“Fine! Fine.”

The city still needed saving, despite the threat being gone. Who knew how much help was needed across the city. Running to everyone's rescue was what she would tell him to do, but still he was afraid to leave her side. He touched her cheek: warm, alive, despite looking worse than she ever had after a fight.

“She’ll be alright?” He asked, wincing slightly at the desperate crack in his voice.

Shadowheart nodded, her hand coming to squeeze his, “I promise, I won’t let her slip away again.”

Rolan had no other choice but to trust her.

Thank you for reading!

Next Chapter

#rolan x reader #rolan x tav #bg3 fanfiction #rolan fanfic #olly writes

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vodika-vibes · 5 months ago

Note

😌 idk if my first request for a fox x reader went through but i’ve been reading a lot (ofc whats new) and uh uh I found I really love fics with CX-2 (Clone Assassin) aND SO, to my favorite SW writer I ask;

How bout a soulmate au with CX-2 (?) Could be a bit of angst with a happy ending, and everyone is just wondering how reader could be with him after all the things he’s done (uh im getting sunshine!reader x grumpy character vibes)

dont have to write this! i just would love to see some more cx-2 fics after reading one just now lol also im down the rabbit hole again that its cx-2!tech whose been reconditioned, do what you feel is best but i just love that theory bc I’m a firm believer too that tech never died 😌

Protective

Summary: For a long time, your parents feared that you didn’t have a soulmate. Until, one morning, you woke up and found a wild dog curled up next to you on your bed. You named him Noir, and the people around you quickly learned that he was fiercely protective of you. However, after Noir kills an Imperial Officer after he threatens, you have no choice but to go on the run.

Pairing: CX-2 x F!Reader, background Tech x Phee

Word Count: 2799

Warnings: None

Prompt: Soulmate AU - soulmates have spirit animals representing each other.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So I wasn't able to get the angst to work, largely because I wasn't in an angsty mood. Also, as much as I love the CX-2 being Tech idea, I had a different idea for this fic, so I hope you like it!

“What d’ya have there, Noir?” You ask as you return to the small hut that has been your home for the last three months and crouch in front of your oldest companion.

Noir’s tail wags rapidly as he nudges something in your direction.

You gently rub his head, then carefully pick up his offering, “Oh, it’s a fish. Did you find dinner for us, pal?”

Noir releases a happy yip, and you laugh softly, “Good job, Noir.” You stand and carry the fish over to the rough kitchen to divvy up the portions. Most of the fish will go to Noir, while you’ll prepare your portion with some seasoning that the Wookies traded with you.

Three months ago, Noir slaughtered an Imperial Officer who threatened your life. You’ve always known that he is fiercely protective of you, and you knew that there was a chance that he would kill again if you were threatened.

The first time it happened you had still been a child. Your uncle tried to kidnap you, and Noir reacted violently.

That time, the authorities just nodded and said it made sense, that your uncle had bad intentions. Neither you, nor Noir, were punished for the death of your uncle.

The Empire is much less understanding.

You had no choice but to take Noir and flee from Coruscant.

The pair of you bounced from planet to planet for several months and then were offered a safe house on Kashyyyk, in the Shadowlands far below the treetop homes of the Wookie people.

It’s not easy.

You are, at your heart, a city girl. Hunting and survival skills do not come naturally to you. Luckily, you have Noir. He really is the greatest equalizer.

If not for him, you’d have died several times since you moved into the small hut.

The biggest downside to this whole situation is the knowledge that you’re not likely to ever meet your soul mate.

Well, unless your soulmate is a Wookie, you suppose.

Carefully, you fillet the fish on your cutting board and toss the large majority into Noir’s bowl, the rest is set in a bowl of marinade and shoved into the fridge.

At least you have electricity.

Sure, you don’t have a holo, but you do have a radio that allows you to keep up to date on the current events, and, much more importantly, listen to books while you fight to keep the Shadowlands from reclaiming the hut.

You’re about to flip the radio on, when Noir releases a low growl.

A growl low enough that your hair stands on end.

You turn your gaze to Noir and see that his ears are flat against his head and his teeth are bared. Spooked, you reach for your belt and grab your blaster, and then you nudge the door open.

Noir slinks out of the hut and, cautiously, you follow him.

The forest is silent. Eerily silent.

You scan the forest around you, not that you expect to be able to see or hear anything. It’s enough that Noir is still growling as though he’s on the verge of attacking.

There’s a rustle in a bush, and you lift your blaster, only to lower it as a small, curious-looking creature ambles out. It’s red, black, and white, and you’d almost think it was a raccoon if not for the colors.

Noir is still growling like there’s a threat, but he’s ignoring the small creature, which is still ambling towards you. It stops at your feet and raises on its hind legs, and you crouch to get a better look at it.

When Noir first appeared in your bedroom all those years ago, no one was sure what kind of animal he was. Not even the zoologists at the local university were able to determine a species.

So you spent a lot of time as a child flipping through various animal encyclopedias. And, while you’d never claim that you had a perfect memory, this little creature does look familiar.

“You’re a Red Panda, aren’t you?” You murmur as you lightly stroke the soft fur on top of her head, “Your kind isn’t native to Kashyyyk, how did you get here?” What’s more is that she’s soft, as though someone’s been taking care of her, though based on the scarring around her ankles, she’s been chained up a lot. “Are you someone’s pet?”

The red panda climbs into your arms and promptly falls asleep, nuzzling her face into your neck. “Well, you’ve clearly been socialized. Maybe I can do something about the scarring.”

Your head snaps up as there’s more rustling and Noir’s growl lowers.

Five Stormtroopers stumble into the clearing, “There it is!” One of them says as he points at the Red Panda in your arms, “Get it!”

You stumble backward as they lift their blasters and Noir launches himself at the Stormtroopers.

You’ve always known that Noir was quick. Quick and with a strong bite, but the last time you’ve seen him move this quickly was when you were a child. He manages to kill three of the Stormtroopers before they recognize that he’s a threat.

The fourth and fifth, however, turn their blasters on him.

And, for a moment, you think that you’re going to watch Noir die.

You only think that for a moment, as another man emerges from the forest. He’s clad in black armor, much unlike the stark white armor of the Stormtroopers. And you watch as he uses a blade to kill one of the Stormtroopers from behind.

You watch as he and Noir work in concert to kill the last of the Stormtroopers.

And then you watch as Noir jumps up on the man, his tail wagging faster than you’ve ever seen before. The armored man seems surprised at how friendly Noir is, and, to be honest, you are too.

He’s so friendly with the armored man, in fact, that you can’t help but think that Noir is the representation of said armored man.

“Noir,” You say, drawing the attention of both the wild dog and the armored man, “His name is Noir.”

It’s kind of hard to read him, seeing as he’s wearing a helmet, but you’re pretty sure that he’s staring at you. “Ka’ra.” He gestures to the red panda in your arms, “She’s been a prisoner her whole life.”

“That explains the scarring,” You walk over to him and pass him his spirit animal, a small smile crossing your face as Noir drops to his paws and bounces around you. “I have some medical stuff, to wrap her scars if you want.”

He’s quiet for a long time, and then nods once, “I’d appreciate that.”

You lead him into the hut, and motion for him to take a seat anywhere while you dig around for the first aid kit.

Once you find it, you set it on the table and open it to dig through what you have left. “You know, you don’t have to leave your helmet on.” You note lightly, “This is a pretty safe place.”

The man hesitates for a moment, then he nods once and reaches up to pull off his helmet.

You’re genuinely surprised to see that he’s a clone. He looks like every other clone you’ve ever seen, dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin…though he does have some nasty scarring along the side of his face.

He’s handsome, you decide as you focus back on your medkit. He kind of looks like Noir, if you squint.

Though, now you have to wonder if you look like his Ka’ra.

“Ah, here we go!” You pull several rolls of bandages from the bottom of the kit and some scar powder. “If I remember correctly, this needs to be added to water, and then the bandages need to soak in it for a bit before we apply them—” You mumble under your breath as you flip the bottle and squint at the instructions.

“What’s your name?” The man asks.

You glance at him and introduce yourself absently, before you squint at the directions again, “What’s yours?”

“...CX-2.”

You pause, “Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve never actually met another person with a soul animal before.”

“It’s rare, then?”

“One of the rarest soul bonds.” You agree, “The only one that’s more rare is the teleportation one.” You stand to grab a clean bowl and fill it with water before placing it on the table.

“I have a brother with the teleportation soul bond. He vanished one day, never saw him again.” CX replies as he watches you.

“Well, there are a lot of you.” You reply as you add some of the powder to the water and stir it in.

He doesn’t answer for a moment, “What is a human doing on Kashyyyk?”

“Ah…well.” You pause, “Noir killed an Imperial Officer who threatened me.”

CX stares at you for a long time, and then his lips curl up into an amused smile, “Good.”

You shoot him a puzzled look.

“He’s as protective of you as I would be.”

“Yeah, well…he is representative of you, right?” You reply with a small shrug.

“I didn’t expect you to be so calm about it,” CX notes, “You do realize that I’m an assassin, right?”

You start unrolling a roll of bandages, “When I was about eleven years old,” You say quietly, “My uncle tried to kidnap me from my bedroom. Noir,” You nod at the wild dog who is gnawing on a bone, “ripped his throat out before he got me out of the living room.” You look at him, “Why should I be afraid of you?”

CX looks startled for a moment, and then a quiet laugh falls from his lips, “I suppose you have good reason to not be afraid.”

You shrug, “I would prefer it if you didn’t assassinate people anymore, but I’d also prefer to not live in a hut on Kashyyyk, so—” You shrug again, and finally drop the bandages into the water.

“What would you have me do instead?”

“Mm, you can join the Rebellion?”

“Ick.”

A laugh falls from you, “I mean when the Republic was still standing, I never had to worry about Republic Officers threatening me. Within a month of the Republic turning into an Empire, I was threatened by an Imperial Officer.”

“...I suppose that it fair.”

“I’m not going to make you do anything,” You say lightly, “We can stay here if you prefer.”

“We?”

“Well, I assume that you want to stay with me?”

CX gazes at you silently, “I want you safe. So staying does make the most sense.”

You meet his gaze evenly, “I’ll definitely be safer with you, compared to away from you.” You agree.

CX is silent for a long moment, “Mandalore.”

“Beg pardon?”

“There’s a group of former Commandos who have a compound on Mandalore. They’re housing clones and their families.” He explains, “We’ll be safe there.”

“How do you know that?”

“All of the Clones know it.” He says, “Well, save for Alpha Prime, I suppose.”

“How are we supposed to get there?” You ask with a tilt of your head.

“I have a ship.”

You grin at him, and then pull the bandages out of the water, “I think it’s a great idea.”

It takes three weeks for you and CX to get to Mandalore, and it takes even longer for CX to prove that he’s not an active threat to his brothers. You’re not able to help with that, but watching him interact with you does a lot to earn him some goodwill.

You like your new home, it’s not Coruscant, but there is plenty of room for Noir to run around and get spoiled, and he does get spoiled. Not quite as much as CX’s Ka’ra, but pretty close.

Surprisingly, CX is somewhat clingy. When he’s in the same area as you, his arms are around you, or his hand is in yours. You kind of have the feeling that he’s a little touch starved, so you don’t mind it.

On this particular day, you’re lounging in the sun, watching Noir and Ka’ra play together, while CX is sparring with Ordo (only the Nulls aren’t hesitant about sparring with CX, which is sad, but understandable).

You enjoy watching him spar largely because he tends to spar shirtless.

You’re allowed to be a simple woman when it comes to your soulmate, right?

“Watching them again?” A familiar voice pulls you out of your musing, and you tilt your head back to look up at the familiar man approaching you. “You could join them.”

“Hardly, if Ordo so much as scratched me, both Noir and CX would rip him to shreds.” You pat the ground next to you, “Have a seat, Tech. No need to hover.”

“He still wishes to be called CX?” Tech asks as he sinks to the ground next to you.

“It’s his choice.” You reply easily, “How was your physical therapy?”

“Painful,” Tech replies, matter-of-factly, “However, my healer believes that I am getting to the point where I will no longer need to see them.”

“That’s something. Are you thinking of reaching out to your brothers? Or your soulmate?”

“I am…unsure.”

“Oh?”

“I died.” He says bluntly, wincing as CX manages to flip Ordo onto his back, “I died, and my soul bond is weaker than it was before.”

“I assume your doctor has an opinion on that.”

“Of course. He says that I just need to reach out to Phee.”

“Why haven’t you?”

Tech anxiously adjusts his glasses, “What if she has found someone else?”

“Do you really think that she would?”

“...she is a beautiful and clever woman. Any man would be lucky to have her—” Tech starts.

“You’re borrowing trouble, Tech. You need to call her.”

Tech opens his mouth to reply but stops as CX jogs over.

You smile up at him adoringly, and offer him his water bottle, “Having fun, love?”

He smirks, “Ordo is bitching because I managed to flip him. So we’re having a round two.”

“Of course you are.”

He flashes a tiny grin at you and crouches so he’s able to kiss you quickly before he jogs back over to the sparring ring. His training was so different from his brothers, you can tell based on the scars covering his body, and based on the fact that he’s not quite as solid as Ordo and the other Nulls.

Not that any of that matters to you.

You love him as he is.

“It does not make sense to me how someone as kind as you ended up with someone like him,” Tech admits, “He intimidates everyone, and lashes out when pushed.”

“I’ve never been afraid of him.” You reply with a small grin, “Even when he killed someone in front of me, even when he loses his temper.”

Tech shakes his head, “I believe I understand.”

You tilt your head curiously.

“You are just as insane as he is.”

You aren’t able to help that laughter that bursts from your lips, “I suppose,” You say through your giggles, “that’s one way to view it.”

Tech flashes a crooked smile at you, and then gets back to his feet, “I am going to go send Phee a message, and hope that she forgives me. Enjoy your ogling.”

You fling a handful of grass at him but don’t deny his accusations.

The spar ends an hour later after it gets too hot for them to continue, and CX makes his way to your side, dropping onto the ground next to you. Immediately his arms slide around your waist and he presses his face against your neck.

“Did you have fun?” You ask as you card your fingers through his curls.

He hums in response, his arms tightening around you, “I’m glad that you don’t mind coming to these.”

“I enjoy watching you spar.”

He pulls his face away from your neck, “You enjoy watching me do anything.”

“You are ridiculously handsome.” You shift in his grip slightly so you’re able to press your hands against his cheeks, “I’m a lucky lady.”

“Mm, is that right?” CX asks as he leans in and presses his forehead against yours.

“You’re all sweaty,” You whisper to him.

“So maybe we should go home,” He offers with an arched brow, “You can wash my hair for me.”

A giggle falls from your lips, “Deal.”

CX grins at you, and crashes his lips against yours, knocking you back onto the grass.

Everything isn’t perfect, CX still needs gene therapy to remove the enhanced aging, not to mention regular therapy to help deal with all of his issues. But so long as you’re together, everything will be fine.

You won’t allow for anything else.

#star wars #tbb #star wars au #vodika vibes 650 event #cx-2 x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks #soulmate au

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volvolts · 1 year ago

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the fuck is crocodile's deal???

thinking about how its next to impossible to construct a proper backstory for crocodile because of how little we know of him and how little he makes sense as a person

like we know nothing of mihawk but his personality is much like zoro. he wants to be the strongest so his ascetic lifestyle makes sense. hes a wildcard too but only because his moral compass follows strictly to himself (he keeps zoro alive and trains him because he wants a challenge, he became a warlord because he wants to be left alone, he joins cross guild for that same reason. the only times he went out of his way to do anything for others was when he shows shanks luffy's first bounty and maybe take care of perona)

but crocodile? we got NOTHING. we don't even know his last name. and i know some of them don't have last names but crocodile was a major villain. plus important characters without a last name kinda have a reason (sabo denounced his family name, buggy and shanks are implied to have been with the roger pirates since they were born)

like something happened to him to lose all his trust in other people and discard them like paper. he spent over a decade searching for pluton only to give up when luffy beat him? he willingly goes to impel down and planned to stay there until he heard whitebeard is gonna show up. he does fuck all to whitebeard. then he gives up on whitebeard, you know the reason why he's left impel down in the first place, then he saves ace, then he saves jinbe and luffy. he disappears for 10 real life years and he's back and we still got nothing on him

he doesn't trust people and yet pulled two bad bitches with swords. people praise how strong he is but he hasn't had a real fight with a real character who mattered since alabasta. and he's clearly strong cuz he got punched in the face with full blown haki and was still standing and he parried mihawk and doflamingo's attacks without any damage. speaking of doflamingo what the fuck was his deal with doflamingo? doffy clearly respected him enough to not believe he was beaten by smoker and he wanted a team up but then its never brought up again?? like was that just banter??

and the theories of his backstory are all still contradictory? whitebeard's birth son? well whitebeard didn't care that much about him and crocodile clearly doesn't either nor do any of the whitebeard pirates seem familiar with him. an ex-revolutionary? other than ivankov's comment of knowing crocodile "when he was a rookie" there's not much else. the backstory of the revolutionary army hasn't mentioned anything about him so we can toss that one out too. rocks d xebec's son? he was a warlord for over 20 years! youre telling me they never had a background check on the guy? you know they would want him dead if he was xebecs son given how far they went for roger's son. he doesn't have a grandpa who's besties with the fleet admiral to cover it up either

and then theres the theories that end up being too similar to other characters. ex-son of whitebeard? already debunked shown above and also thats just blackbeard. from a family of wealth and lost it, or was simply born evil? doflamingo did that already. cabin boy/child of an infamous pirate crew that was disbanded after the death of the captain? buggy and shanks are right there.

the man has so much going on and yet absolutely nothing at the same time. i NEED to know more about this guy at least tell me if he can even do haki PLEASE

#one piece talk #dont mind me im procrastinating #and incomprehensible rambling #sir crocodile

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stardewthoughts · 1 year ago

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blue chickens

ok, so let me preface this with, i'm no chicken expert nor biologist, this is just something i find fascinating and i'm still a biology nerd just not employed for it lol

ok so first of all, lets lay out some facts, shane who for a majority of his time in stardew valley has been depressed and highly alcohol dependant, while working a dead end job in a soul crushing company, managed to breed chickens with not only an unusual colour but unusual physical traits, seen in functionally no other hens. that is both objectively impressive and kinda insane, but when broken down its much more impressive

firstly, creating a new breed of anything takes years and a lot of patience, on average it takes 5-7 generations to have chickens breed true (reproduce creating offspring with the same traits as them) without setbacks and on average one generation would take 6-7 months, which would mean roughly 4 years of work

on top of the time it would take, shane would have to have a very good grasp on genetics, to realize what combinations would produce whatever outcome he wants, and while he likely discovered a mutation in the colour pigment that he took advantage of, he'd still have to meticulously plan pairings and keep track of genetics and generations, trying to avoid major inbreeding while keeping the blue gene dominant in the gene pool.

but there's one thing off, true blue pigment is extremely rare in animals, with only one known species producing it, Obrina Olivewing butterfly. so how the hell could the chickens be blue?

its quite simple, Rayleigh scattering

(definition)

-Rayleigh scattering refers to the scattering of light off of the molecules of the air, and can be extended to scattering from particles up to about a tenth of the wavelength of the light. It is Rayleigh scattering off the molecules of the air which gives us the blue sky

its rayleigh scattering that also causes blue jays to be blue, seeing as the predominant pigment in their feathers is melanin making them truly brown/black in colour. ironically real world blue chickens aren't really blue, the blue genes are more of a dilution gene for black pigment

now i'm not knowledgeable enough to tell you how to make a blue chicken but my hypothesis would be a mutation/modification in feathers(possibly naturally iridescent feathers) that caused more blue to reflect, this mutation being bred through the lines, being crossed bac to produce more blue, till the chickens became solid blue.

on top of the strange color, these hens have also developed more rooster like tails, this being much simpler to explain, likely being a mutation causing increased feather growth akin to a rooster, within hens

this shows how much work and dedication shane put into his hens, and is one of the reasons he's my favourite characters, this man, who likely (to me atleast) has no science background, managed to create chickens defying what was believed to be the barrier of poultry colouration

#sdv #stardew #stardew valley #stardewthoughts #stardew shane #sdv shane #chicken #blue chicken #science #biology #shane being amazing #sdv thoughts #stardew valley shane #stardew valley headcanons #stardew valley thoughts

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jedimasterbailey · 1 year ago

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WARNING! AHSOKA SHOW RANT DOWN BELOW! SPOILERS!

Furthermore, I’m going to be completely honest in this review so if you’re someone who truly enjoyed the show, you’re a Rebels stan, etc. then this post isn’t for you. Haters will be blocked immediately so take your negative energy elsewhere. You have been warned!

For everyone else, buckle up because I’ve got a lot to say and I’d love to hear your thoughts on this as well. All comments are welcome so long as they are respectful to everyone.

Okay, so now that the show is done for now. I’m going to be listing some major talking points. We’re there some aspects of the show that I enjoyed/appreciated? Absolutely! But overall, I’m leaving this show very disappointed, confused, and frustrated. The finale left me feeling empty and never have I personally been more silent after a Star Wars show. Now mind you I think this has a lot to do with the fact that I love Ahsoka’s character dearly as well as the Clone Wars and the prequels so there is bias here. Furthermore I am pretty indifferent with Rebels so going in knowing that the Ahsoka show wasn’t going to be…well about Ahsoka but rather a Rebels sequel, that already put a bad taste in my mouth and I was very nervous how this show was going to go and well…it was exactly what I expected from a Filoni/cheap Disney production. Without further ado, here’s a list of all my beef.

1.) Lack of a Coherent and Cohesive Story

So I’ve mentioned this in a previous post, but my main issue with Dave Feloni productions is that the story seems to be going all over the place and there’s a lot of moving parts that don’t necessarily meld well together. I often think to myself that Ahsoka is an example of a poorly written fanfiction brought to the screen. So the plot of the show initally was focused on Ahsoka bringing Ezra home. Okay, that’s simple, there’s many different ways we can make that cool and interesting but that’s not what happened here. We’re just filled with a ton of confusing information and we’re in for a very boring journey heading for a very anticlimactic and unsatisfying ending.

For starters, we the audience are informed that Ahsoka and Sabine had started an apprenticeship (which I have ALOT of issues with but that’s for another talking point) but they got into a tiff (which we never find out about and/or see) and now things are just depressing and weird between them. First of all, anyone who has seen Rebels KNOWS that Ahsoka and Sabine literally had very little to do with each other; I can’t recall a single conversation those two have had in the past, nor was it ever eluded to us that Sabine is Force sensitive.

Second we see that Hera and Sabine don’t have anything to do with each other for some reason? Which is weird considering all that’s happened and their history but okay suddenly Sabine, a grown ass 30+ year old woman is Ahsoka’s responsibility, which again why? We don’t get any background information, we’re just expected to accept and go with it.

Third, Ahsoka and Hyuang are reunited and working together immediately but again do we know how that became to be? No. We see none of that.

Fourth we are told that Morgan Elsbeth, a one off antagonist from the Mandalorian that Ahsoka fought is suddenly a Dathormirian woman even though she looks nothing like one besides her outfits in the show nor was that eluded to previously.

Fifth, we are introduced to these two new…I don’t even know what to call them “dark siders” “non Jedi” Shin and Baylan (who is apparently a former Jedi from the Clone Wars but did we see that or see how he knew Ahsoka and Anakin? No.) but we aren’t given any reason to care about them other than they’re in Ahsoka’s way of completing her mission. They end up being more like time fillers that anything else and end up walking away from the big conclusion. Like…why are they even in this show and why should we care?

Perhaps Dave Feloni has this big grand story in his mind but he’s so far up his own ass that none of us get to see this story. It’s like seeing a little kid play with their action figures and they’re super passionate about it but as a outsider you have no idea what’s going on. Now this isn’t good not only for the sake of good storytelling but it’s bad for business too.

Disney wants to make as much money off of Star Wars as they can. That’s extremely obvious. However here you have a show that isn’t going to pull in a casual Star Wars viewers (they would have to watch so much content to catch up on whose who and what is going on) nor is it really going to pull in fans of Clone Wars and Rebels because while they overlap, the fandoms are different and Feloni hasn’t done a good job melding those worlds together thus the divisive opinions on this show. This leaves for an incredibly small niche of people and honestly I think whatever toy sells they make from this show will do better than the actual ratings. I would be shocked if they greenlit for another season because I’m pretty done with this story as is many of the people who would be willing to watch.

All in all this is embarrassing how Feloni and the gang with all the money and resources can’t pull off a simple and epic show when there are thousands of unpaid fanfic writers that could pull off a much better story and build these beloved up characters, which leads into my next point.

2. The Characterizations of Ahsoka, Sabine, and Hera Are Bad

Now I have mentioned previously how much I love Ahsoka but damn it upon watching this show, she may as well be dead. Ahsoka has been given the Luke Skywalker treatment in that Ahsoka has been stripped of everything that made her lovable in Clone Wars and Rebels and is left as a sorry shell of who she once was. Her dialouge is hollow and lifeless not like the lively Ashley counterpart that made us all love Ahsoka in the first place. And no don’t give this “well she’s older now” bullshti excuse because Obi Wan Kenobi never lost his cheekiness and charisma as an old man, neither did Yoda, or Leia, etc. Just because you age doesn’t mean you have to be lifeless. Maturity does not equate to emotionless. Secondly for a woman whose well into her fifties and still acts very much like a Jedi Ahsoka’s views on the Jedi and their philosophy seem very warped and the audience is again left confused as to where she stands on the Jedi. I mentioned in a previous post how I couldn’t stand Ahsoka’s negativity towards the Jedi and how nobody seems to matter but Anakin (even though he’s put her through a ton of trauma and has tried to kill her as Vader) because it’s just so distasteful to the people who raised her and loved her that died by genocide no thanks to Anakin. Ahsoka has zero character development other than she seems to forgive Anakin for his wrongdoings despite the nonexistent apology. For a show that has her name on it, she sure is boring. Makes me miss Ashley and old Ahsoka even more.

As for Sabine I probably could write a whole thesis on how unlikeable she is but I’ll keep it short. One, I find it sick on Feloni’s part that he’s having a grown 30+ year old woman act like a teenager and be snarky with just about everyone. Ezra, who annoyed me immensely in Rebels, was WAY more mature and grounded. And again I’m sick and tired of the Mandalorian excuse of you getting to be an asshole because youre Mandalorian. Shut up. No one is above manners and decency. Sabine’s actions in this show have been far from Jedi like and thanks to her immaturity, she left Ahsoka for dead once and is indirectly responsible for the death of New Republic officers who were trying to stop this very dangerous mission that could possibly bring Thrawn and the Empire back ensuing more death and destruction of innocents. Ahsoka deserves to be angry with her for her words and actions, but of course Sabine gets a free pass and her bad behavior will continue to be enabled.

As for Hera…when did she become such a Karen? Just because you’re an officer doesn’t mean you get to abuse your power for your own personal agenda. That Senator was right about her. Finding Thrawn is a threat to the galaxy and using resources and putting lives at risk for it is a big deal. Hera was depicted as honorable and responsible in the Rebels series and I swear I was watching a different person on screen. Also she is a major Sabine enabler and that needs to stop. Sabine is grown and needs to grow up and fix her attitude.

3.) Anakin’s Role In the Show

Now don’t get me wrong, I love Hayden and I love Anakin, I have the dude tattooed on me for Force sake so don’t come at me for that, but I had some issues on how his character was used here. First, I’m tired of Ahsoka’s relevance to Anakin being the only defining trait about her. Second, I’m continuously annoyed by Anakin’s lack of accountability in these shows; he never once apologizes to Ahsoka for all that’s happened, he never once’s has a meaningful conversation with her; he just basically beats her down until she finally lets go of her past. Did I love the Clone Wars flashbacks! YES! They were my favorite part of the entire show and I want MORE of that; but I so wish Anakin could have been reflecting on his own actions with Ahsoka instead of being like “Is ThAt WhAt ThIs Is AbOuT?” Like come on 🙄

4.) Ahsoka’s “It’s Time To Move On” Line

Are you kidding me Ahsoka? There is still so much more to unpack with her past such as all the other relationships she’s had that completely changed her trajectory like BARRISS and REX and she could also be a mentor figure to Luke and Leia, etc. But nope the only thing that matters is getting over Anakin and all is well despite being stranded in another galaxy and Thrawn being unleashed back home. Like THIS IS NOT OKAY!

5.) The Cheap Ass Production of this Show

I’m not normally one to comment on production but it was so obvious in this show how many corners were cut. For one characters like Thrawn look god awful. Dude looking like a blue Elon Musk instead of an intimidating villain. The use of fog and the volume were very obvious and the places we went to were so boring minus the red leaves forest. The worlds of Star Wars used to be so cool and otherworldly but that’s not the case nowadays and it’s sad. Also why does Force ghost Anakin look better in the 2000’s than it does now? I prefer quality over quantity so I really wish Disney would quit churning out these cheaply made productions and have the audacity to rise their Disney plus subscriptions and not pay their people well.

6.) THE RACISM

I’m so fucking tired of this y’all! 🤬 of course make the Jewish actor in the shipyard be greedy and power hungry. Of course make the Asian Senator the asshole and not any of the white protagonists. The antisemitism and racism against POC is unacceptable to me and it should be unacceptable to you too.

Conclusion

I’m sure I’m missing some talking points but these are my biggest grips and as an Ahsoka fan I’m disappointed. Being a miserable Jedi not Jedi responsible for bringing a new evil into the galaxy but being content being stranded in another galaxy is not the future I believe Ahsoka deserves and I sincerely hope they don’t continue this story. It’s just bad all around. Except for the Loth cats… the Loth cats can stay. And Clone Wars flashbacks.

#ahsoka #ahsoka show critical #darth felonious #anti dave feloni #ahsoka critical #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #barriss offee #the clone wars #star wars #star wars meta #anti sabine wren #hera syndulla #sabine wren #captain rex #ezra bridger

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