#star wars chess pieces

[circle-around-again]

"Maul breezed past the malodorous Rodians and came to a stop before a teenage Abyssin, a hulking native of the planet Byss. ... [T]he Abyssin stood nearly two meters tall. Maul tilted his head back, looked up into the Abyssin's eye, and said, "I am Maul. Your move."" (Windham, 80).

Might I remind everyone that Maul is about 7 here, so he's probably around half the height of his opponent, who towers over nearly all adult humans.

Maybe one of the most badass things Maul has ever done. No posturing, just creepy confidence.

A small thing to note -- Maul's slow walk to the enemy and use of the term "move" implies that invokes the imagery of a chess match. He operates as and names himself as one of the pieces on the board. But he is a named pawn. Sidious told him to walk there just a few seconds ago. It will be a while before he grows up into a Knight.

[casually-eat-my-soul]

See the thing is, stiles isn’t the problem, stiles curiosity isn’t the problem. One could argue that his impulse control is but that’s not the point. Unfortunately for stiles many problems happen around him in a vaguely eye catching way. THATS not on him.

He is however connected to said problem, has many different plans to solve said problem (a-z plus three different letters from a star war language)(they range from murder to no murder). He is the direct solution to the problem. However because of his extremely chaotic eye of the Storm attitude he will be direct implicated as the problem starter.

Derek has never been more stressed and in awe of a person before

Peter is enjoying it immensely, sipping wine and watching stiles eat chess pieces

[fallingskiesandrisingseas]

The Pevensie kids are otherwordly in more ways than the naked eye reveals.

For starters, with all the years they have spent around great cats, they are absolutely silent when they walk. They can stalk and prowl like no one's business, and once, when a girl pissed off Lucy, she showed her her teeth.

When a shrink asks her why she is scared of cats, so many years later , she remembers the white flash in the schoolyard, the sudden certainty of death.

Second of all, they don't seem to leave footprints in snow. In the winters of Narnia, magic was all around Cair Paravel, benign spirits showing them how to leave no traces, go unseen in the great white. Some swear they move without touching the earth. No one is sure enough to rebutt them.

The Pevensies are unbeatable in snowball fights. Especially Susan can throw like a honkball pitcher, able to single out and pick off targets that should be out of reach.

When the boys drink alcohol for the first time, at ages 17 and 15, they turn out to have great tolerance, something no one their age should have. Yet Peter and Edmund can beat anyone in a drinking game. Narnian spirits were strong (pun intented), so they do not find this feat particularly challenging. And no one understands how Susan puts away bottles and bottles of wine without ever slurring her words or losing her razor sharp mind.

The boys that keep pouring her more wine, hoping to take her home drunk, leave disappointed every night. Susan knows what's up. She's been forced to sit through boring diplomatic dinners with alcohol as her only interesting companion, is used to men trying to take advantage when she drinks. She will not be tricked by school boys.

They have a tolerance for other substances, too.

When someone gets the bright idea to roofie Lucy at age 16, he ends up with a nail through his foot, hanging from the highest tree in London.

Lucy shows up the next day with dirt under her nails and a hammer in her backpack. The teachers take one look at Peter, who stares back with a glare that could refreeze Narnia, and decide not to say a word.

They're all insanely strong swimmers. Susan won prizes before, but now she's breaking records. Edmund saves a man twice his weight from drowing, dragging him along across a cold lake for half a mile.

No one understands how the scrawny, 5"9 kid pulled that off. Or how he manages to hold his breath for so long.

And then there is the question of their minds.

Suddenly, Edmund can beat even the most experienced men in chess. He goes on to become champion of the region and then of the whole of England.

Peter, once a mediocre student, is now a stunningly good writer. When his professor reads his essay for Ethics, he weeps, something that has never happened before. Many see a future in academia for him.

Susan becomes known as the best problem solver in school. She's able to resolve many conflicts, not in the least because she's so attractive men stop thinking about fighting the second she steps into a room. But underneath the beauty resides a smooth operator. Her professors don't doubt for a second she'll be a brilliant politician.

Lucy no longer has the child like innocence from before the war. Her sense of wonder never left her, though. The centaurs have taught her astronomy, and looking at the stars reminds her of Narnia, one of the few things that are the same. The boarding school telescope goes missing an awful lot, as does she. Often, her brothers and sister come along, especially on bright nights. They never get caught.

They've changed. And they hold onto these pieces of Narnia, because it is all they have left.

[gerec]

Do you have any canon movie fics to recommend? (could be canon divergence too)

the best ones of course

Hi Anon,

It's impossible to define 'best ones' when it comes to fic as everyone has their own set of preferences but I'm happy to share some of my personal favourites. :D And this list barely scratches the surface of all the incredible fic we've been blessed with in this fandom so def. do your own search on ao3 and filter for your preferred tropes! Also, feel free to check out some of my previous fic recs posts on my blog for more options! Happy reading!

XMFC

never too late to be who you might have been by acetamide Erik wakes suddenly and takes a deep breath, and realises that there is nothing.

Replay by SlightWeasel (series) After Magneto of an X2-ish future succeeds in the unthinkable, Charles sends his consciousness back to 1962 to guide Erik away from the path that will lead to the genocide of the human race forty years hence.Charles knows that Erik has always loved him, and intends to use this knowledge + sex to seduce Erik away from his ideals in his youth.There’s no way this well-thought-out, sensible, debugged and 100% bulletproof plan can possibly go wrong.

When We Two Parted by nekosmuse At the end of X3, a still depowered Erik travels back in time to meet 1962 Charles. Cue angst, desperate kissing and happy endings for all. Written for the x-men kink meme.

Lucid Dreaming by listerinezero Magneto finds himself in 1962, on the morning they go to Cuba, in the bed of the young Charles who’d spent months letting him think they were in love before breaking his heart. But he is not the same man he was forty years earlier, and as he gets to know young Charles again, he discovers that things might not have been exactly the way he remembered them after all.

Time to Grow by zarah5 In which you'll find chess dates which aren't dates (or maybe Charles is wrong about that). -- Based on First Class, this turns (slightly) AU during the beach scene.

Not Half As Blinding by keire-ke Cuban beach AU. Charles discovers that death does, in fact, solve everything.

Blood and Steel and Miles Between by dreamlittleyo (Post-movie AU.) On a beach in Cuba, Charles manages to talk Erik down from the edge. But even after the missiles have been diverted, compromise is impossible. There are two different futures to build, and Erik and Charles will always be separated by their principles. But when Charles is kidnapped and the X-Men can't find him, Erik will get him back no matter the consequences.

Homecoming by nekosmuse Five years after they part ways on a beach in Cuba, Charles sends a telepathic message: We are under attack.. Erik drops everything to rush to Charles' side. In which battles are fought, war is avoided, a middle ground is found, and happily ever afters do exist.

how near to fairyland by ikeracity Since childhood, Charles has kept all the things he can't let go of in a beautiful room in his head. Cuba brings his precarious balancing act crashing down.

The Line in the Sand by ikeracity The CIA agents on the base are bullying the children, mocking them for their mutations. Charles will not tolerate it.

DOFP

Hope by daymarket  A near-decade of hatred can't be wiped out with a single summer, no matter how eventful that summer might be. When Erik shows up uninvited at the mansion, Charles is just barely civil enough to not throw him out, but that doesn't mean he'll let him stay.

Mile High by cygnaut There’s only so much time you can spend sublimating your emotions into chess.

Spark Me Up by blarfkey “This is Erik raw. This is Erik lost. This is Erik looking at Charles like he is the only piece of wreckage in a vast ocean. The only star in the sky.

And such a look does things to Charles.”

After ten years, they are both starving for each other.

XMA

third time's the charm by Gerec XMA ficlets and missing scenes

Regrets by SlightWeasel After Apocalypse, Charles and Erik sleep together—but it’s way too soon for Erik.

as it arcs towards the sun by pearl_o

night by night by pearl_o

things worth fearing by pearl_o

Dark Phoenix

After the End of the World (One Bad Day) by kianspo Set during and immediately after the events of X-Men: Dark Phoenix. Everyone deals with the aftermath of Jean's transformation and everything that comes with it in their own way. Could there be found a measure of peace and happiness after everything they've lost?

Never a Place by kianspo It takes some getting used to. Charles hasn’t seen Erik cheerful, actually cheerful without a homicidal intent of some sort in a very long time—perhaps never. Or. Charles takes Erik up on his offer while trying to process everything. Erik is remarkably patient until he isn't.

rue de la paix by Ireliss Post Dark Phoenix. Charles, Erik, and the winding road towards peace.

The First Move by TurtleTotem Charles and Erik live together now, in Genosha. They get up together, spend the day together. And then... go to sleep in their separate beds.

Charles is going quietly crazy.

[badplayerana]

Current favorite cherik fics - pt3

part 1 | part 2

Its that time of the week again, we all cheer! Im not sure if I will be able to keep this as a weekly thing but as of now I still have a lot of fics Id like to rec. So lets get to it

A Wedding Planner Walks Into a Bar by 1sttimefeeling

When Raven hires Erik to be the bartender at her wedding, he becomes quickly infatuated with the wedding planner, Charles Xavier, who he thinks is her fiancé.

we might just be hollywood material, baby by ikeracity, midrashic (this is actually a series, both works in it are great)

Ten years ago, Charles and Erik co-starred on the explosively popular animated show Greenkeep, where they first earned their big breaks — and where they fell in love. Now, at a cast reunion a decade later, they've made careful, PR-vetted plans to reveal their relationship to the fans with minimal fuss.

Closer (to God) by dsrobertson (Mind the tags and warnings!!)

Se7en/The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo AU-ish. Political journalist and editor, Erik Lehnsherr, has just lost £150,000 in a libel case against businessman, Kurt Marko. Down on his luck and in need of money, Erik is approached by the Metropolitan Police’s Detective Inspector Charles Xavier. Well-known for his investigative journalism, Erik is asked to help in the search for a serial killer in return for £200,000 if the killer is caught. Wrapped up in murder, religion, and sex, Erik gets more than he bargained for.

Blood Runs Thicker by swordsandsadness (WIP but its currently being updated!)

He would never see him again. Never feel the familiar touch of his mind against his own. Never watch the determined lines across his face as he chose his next chess move. Never see the way his gaze would flicker from the chess pieces to him when he thought Charles wasn’t looking. Never again. Charles was going to die while Erik was halfway across the world. He wondered if Erik would feel it somehow. Was it selfish of him to hope that Erik would feel the loss all the way in Genosha? At least that way Erik would be linked with him in the end, despite the distance. He felt his pounding heartbeat begin to stagger, and he knew this must be it. Charles began to close his eyes as he heard the sound of someone running, and then the world was darkness and he knew no more. His last thought was of Erik, unknowingly going about his day in Genosha. Unaware that thousands of miles away, Charles was leaving him behind.

Hier steh ich an den Marken meiner Tage by MonstrousRegiment

Erik Lehnsherr is a spy in the SS, and his British liaison is strategist Charles Xavier. Their relationship from the moment they meet to a year after the end of the war.

[violettavonviolet]

Percy Jackson fic rec's

All fics are finished and amazing! The word count goes up as it goes, all fics are completed, I've added the ships and ratings but do make sure to read the tags!

Fic's marked with a star haven't left my brain since I read them

Deep Sea Fury

HumbleservantofHypnos

Summary:

Someone stabbed Tyson’s eye, and Percy is unable to stop himself from going unhinged.

Nemesis had talked to him, whispered in his ear that the rule should be the same for everyone. An eye for an eye.

1.8k gen

Percy's Questers' Quests

WardofWinters (QoLife)

Summary:

Hi! I’m Percy of Questers Quests, where all Quests are dedicated to Kronos the Titan of Time, what can I do for you today? Mhm, okay, I understand, yeah we can do that, do you have any questions? -oh why do we dedicate our Quests to Kronos? Well, that’s because I’m sick and tired of my relatives harassing me. Anyways! We’ll have that Quest done for you by the end of the week, thank you for your business!

3.5k Genfic

Blood in the Wine *

mrthology

Summary:

“It’s a good thing that father of yours is so protective of you,” Dionysus said, joining the demigod on the beach the next night, looking cautiously out to the lapping waves to gauge his uncle’s mood.

The demigod blinked, eyes bright despite the lack of light.

Dionysus ignored his surprise and studied the demigod carefully, noting the faint hint of gold exuding from his skin.

Ah. Well then.

He could remember noting the same sheen to his own skin millennia ago now. Jackson was on the precipice of something, and only time would tell if it were madness or greatness.

——

Percy’s on the edge of something. Dionysus notices, even if Percy doesn’t want him (or anyone) to.

4.5k Percy/Dionysus

A Godly Quest

CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

Summary:

Paul is like… eighty percent sure that some of Percy’s so-called "quests" are all one big hoax. He isn’t able to prove it until he goes to Taco Bell at three in the morning.

5k gen

Sand Dollar Child

withay

Summary:

There's far too much divinity in Percy Jackson. It oozes from him, to the point where he's sometimes mistaken for Poseidon. Percy doesn't know this yet. All he knows is that this nereid is asking to borrow five drachmas.

6.4k percabeth gen

Of All That Breathe and Crawl Across the Earth

mrthology

Summary:

"All of you demigods are bred for war, for me," Ares said. "That's just a fact of life." He took another drag of his cigar, then snuffed it out on the bricks near Jackson's ear. "You're chess pieces to move as we want, and nothing more."

Jackson laughed, his voice echoing in the small alleyway in a way no mortals should. "I'm surprised you even know what chess is," he snapped. He grinned, all sharp teeth and eyes that saw far too much. "I thought that was more Athena's area. You're just carnage."

Ares tightened his grip, wanting to see the boy squirm. Jackson reminded him of someone from millennia past, a Hero still loved by the ages. Ares wished he could place who.

—

Ares takes notice of Percy Jackson. Even he isn't sure if it's a good thing, not when his very presence seems to bring back memories of things best left forgotten.

8k ares/percy mature

I know the end

Ghxst_Bird

Summary:

Ever since Tartarus there’s been something… strange about Percy. They all know it, they’ve all seen it. Obviously the gods know about it, too, but they’re about as helpful about it as Charybdis in a swimming pool.

Nico just hopes Percy will stop glaring at everyone who looks at Nico or Jason the wrong way… and preferably tell his godly relatives to not threaten doom on them all every time Percy so much as scrapes his knee.

8.3k genfic, percy&nico&jason

Get Under Your Skin Just Like A Bomb That's Ready To Blow

ashilrak

Summary:

“That was a mistake,” Ares says, walking beside him. “You’re not one to abandon your post. This is going to eat at you.”

Just like every other time he’s spoken with Ares, Percy is vibrating with anger. How dare Ares tell him what’s best for him. At his sides, he tightens his hands into fists tight enough he’s sure he’s drawn blood.

“What’s it to you?” he spits out.

“You’ve got war in your heart, boy,” Ares says. Percy can’t see his eyes because of his sunglasses, but he’s sure they’re glowing red like charcoal. “I can taste it.”

—

Or: Percy's struggling without a war looming over him, and who better to help him find his purpose than the God of War?

9k Ares/Percy explicit

What’s in a Name?

anxious_tofu

Summary:

Percy didn’t realize at the time that when his boyfriend came up to him one Friday afternoon with his coffee order in hand and a nervous grin on his face it was the beginning of the end. 

After six months of dating, Apollo brings Percy to meet his family. This proves to be a mistake.

-----

All human/meet the family AU. Crack taken too seriously/ attempt at humor.

10.2k perpollo teen

The Burden of Our Mortal Misery *

mrthology

Summary:

“Get up,” Dionysus ordered.

Percy ignored him. As they always did, memories of Tartarus crept back, a hold on him that never quite left. Falling, falling, falling. Always falling, never quite clawing his way back to the surface.

Dionysus hauled him to his feet, hands a burning brand.

Percy panted and met his eyes, barely able to stand under the force of the god's divinity. He wondered if this was what people meant when they talked about the myths, why people loved and worshipped the gods and feared them in turn. Percy had never seen them as people to revere and love. They were cruel; petty. They had done nothing but treat Percy like a pawn in their schemes, then thrown him to the proverbial wolves once they’d been done with him.

But he thought he was beginning to understand. He felt tiny before Dionysus, insignificant. It was more of a comfort than Percy wanted to admit.

“What’s happening to me?”

—

Percy had left something of himself down in Tartarus, and he didn’t think he’d ever get it back. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

12k Percy/Dionysus teen

The Drowned God

robindrake93

Summary:

It's Hermes job to summon all of the gods to the summer solstice meeting...and that includes the newest one: Percy Jackson. From that moment on, Percy's life changes forever. Again.

17k Percy/Hermes mature

Walking Backward Into My Own Myth

mrthology

Summary:

"You should have ascended years ago," Zeus said without preamble, looking down at Percy. The other Olympians, even his father, remained silent, watching the proceedings with uncharacteristic solemnity.

"I said no years ago," Percy snapped, rage making his voice tremble and hands shake. "I didn't want to be a God then, and I want to even less now. I've seen how horrible eternity is."

"You would defy the fates themselves?" Athena asked softly, leaning forwards with narrowed eyes. She looked more godly than Percy had ever seen her, to the point where it was nearly unbearable to look at her face. Percy did so nevertheless, glaring at the Goddess he'd lost almost all respect for.

"You had children die today," he snapped, desperate to return to Camp. "Annabeth could still die—hasn't she done enough?"

———

Or, Percy keeps living the same horrible day over and over and over again, regardless of what he does. Eventually, something will have to give. Percy just isn't sure what.

19k  gen

Until you break, until you yield

Sappho_of_Space

Summary:

Despite everything that Percy did for the gods, he was still being used as a pawn. When an opportunity arises that Zeus can't ignore, Apollo will stop at nothing for his lover to return to his arms.

If people die in the process, that's not his problem.

27.4k Perpollo

Set in Stone *

CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

Summary:

“Find Medusa?” Percy spluttered, trying and failing not to sound indignant. “Nobody wants to find Medusa. You run into Medusa while trying to retrieve your uncle’s stolen lightning bolt and then mail her head to the gods after she keeps talking about how your eyes are like your father’s.”

From behind him, Piper raised a single finger. “When you mail what to whom?”

Percy glanced over his shoulder to give her a shrug. “Don’t worry about it. I was twelve,” he said before turning back to where Gabe was still fighting against the ropes binding his hands together. “Do you have any idea what to do with him?”

Nico leaned over, craning his neck to better peer at the hot sauce that still stained Gabe’s face despite the years of statue-ification. “Um, we could see if your dad wants to turn him into a fish or something?”

Percy grimaced. If Gabe Ugliano was a fish, then he’d be forced to hear the man’s voice in his head for years to come. But also, he could maybe mount him on a wall, so perhaps it wasn’t an entirely terrible idea.

Or

Medusa’s sculptures are mysteriously coming back to life. Percy doesn’t think murder is an unreasonable action given the circumstances.

38k gen abuse via Gabe

Fishing in Alaska *

CaffeinatedFlumadiddle

Summary:

“This… this would qualify as a mental breakdown, right?” Triton asked, frowning over his shoulder to where Percy was still fuming in the corner. The lady at the counter curiously glanced over before lifting a questioning brow. “My brother – half-brother, technically, I have much better breeding – decided to run away from home to where our father can’t reach him and now he won’t leave. And now I can’t leave unless he leaves,” Triton continued. Percy opened his mouth to object that wasn’t what happened at all, but the tyrant only waved a hand to silence him. “He’s seen war or whatever, so if you could maybe just drug him then I’ll throw him into a suitcase and we can be out of here by the Summer Solstice!”

Silence. Finally, the woman cleared her throat and turned to Percy.

“I’m guessing he’s the one you want checked into the mental hospital?” She asked. Triton gasped as Percy punched the air in victory.

“Aha!”

Or

Getting in trouble works a little differently when your parent is an all-powerful god. Sometimes you have to escape to the land beyond gods and get your immortal brother turned human to drag you back so you can be exploded a million pieces. You know, normal teenage stuff.

112k gen Percy&Triton

The Hero Unsung

SomePsychopomp

Summary:

“Oh gods,” Percy thought, “I got fucking isekai’ed.”

---

Thrown back in time and tossed onto the scorching shores of ancient Greece, Percy becomes the unwilling center of attention for an entire army. One destined to sail for Troy and wage a ten year war. If only they could appease the gods keeping them far from their destination first…

Meanwhile, Percy will have to make allies fast while navigating a pantheon of deities who have not yet been tempered by time. Because here, it’s not just the kings who have taken a terrible interest in him; Percy will soon learn just how painful the attention of a god can really be.

135k percy/achilles/patroculus

HAUNT ME, THEN— *

ashilrak, mrthology

Summary:

Percy collapsed once he reached the porch and looked up to a rickety ceiling fan. A moth darted around the light, drawing his attention. It was easier to focus on it than on what had happened. His mom, the strange recollections that dogged the edges of his memory, Grover, everything.

A stern and familiar man looked down at him, concern and apprehension written across his face.

“Hello, Kassandra.”

———

Or, when Apollo cursed Kassandra before the Trojan War, it didn’t go as planned. Now, millennia later, Apollo and Kassandra are still stuck in an endless cycle of death and rebirth. Percy Jackson doesn’t know why people keep calling him Kassandra, or why he’s plagued by memories; all he knows is that he didn’t want to be a demigod.

270k perpollo & Percy& Will

[theturncoattournament]

Do you love a character with a good redemption arc? Or a corruption arc? Or even just seeing the kind of storylines that emerge from a character who was formerly aligned with an enemy side decide to join a different one?

Then welcome to...

The Turncoat Tournament!

This is a tournament for characters who have changed sides at some point in the story. It can be from good to bad, bad to good, or from one morally ambiguous side to a different morally ambiguous side, as long as the change in allegiance is still clear. Characters can change sides multiple times, and ultimately end up returning to their original side, and still qualify for the tournament!

Due to the subject of the tournament itself being inherently spoiler-y, I will by default not be tagging posts with spoiler warnings. However, below I do have a list of all the pieces of media that have characters in the tournament; if you see something on this list that you do want spoiler tagged, please let me know, and I’ll start tagging it with spoiler warnings!

Media list:

(Arranged in alphabetical order)

2001: A Space Odyssey/2010: The Year We Made Contact

Ace Attorney/The Great Ace Attorney

Animation vs Minecraft

Arthurian legend 

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Bamse - Världens starkaste björn

Bones

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Bungo Stray Dogs

Centaurworld

Chess The Musical 

The Chronicles of Narnia

Code Geass

Critical Role (Campaign 2) 

Cult of the Lamb

DC Comics (Batfamily, Flash characters, Shazam family)

Devil May Cry

Doctor Who

Dog Man

Dragon Age: Inquisition 

Dragon Ball Z

The Evillious Chronicles 

Fable III

Fairy Tail

Fake Princess

Farscape

Final Fantasy XIV

Game of Thrones

Genshin Impact

The Good Place

Gravity Falls

The Grinch Who Stole Christmas

Hannibal

The Hunger Games

I Expect You to Die 3

The Incredibles 

Just Dance

Kingdom Hearts

Kinnporsche 

Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts 

Kirby series

The Legend of Zelda: Four Swords manga

The Librarians

The Locked Tomb

Machineries of Empire

Maleficent

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Marvel Comics (X-Men, Avengers) 

Megamind

Merlin

Mistborn

My Little Pony: Equestria Girls

Nan Quest

Once Upon A Time

One Piece

The Owl House

Pandora Hearts

Paper Mario: The Thousand Year Door

Percy Jackson and the Olympians

Person of Interest 

The Pirates of Penzance

Pirates of the Caribbean 

Portal 2

Power Rangers: Dino Fury

Pretty Cure (Fresh Precure, Kira Kira Precure a la Mode, Suite Precure, Hugtto Precure)

Provost’s Dog

Princess Tutu

Raya and the Last Dragon

RWBY

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Smallville

Sonic the Hedgehog OVA 

Soul Eater

Soul series (Soul Calibur/Edge) 

Star Trek: Deep Space Nine

Star Wars (Prequels, Original trilogy, Rebels, Clone Wars, Knights of the Old Republic) 

Steven Universe

The Stormlight Archive

Sunless Sea

Tangled: The Series

Teen Titans (2003 series) 

Teen Wolf

Terminator films 

Transformers

Tron Legacy

Vorkosigan Saga

Warrior Cats

Wings of Fire

Wolf 359

Worm

Young Justice

Yu Yu Hakusho

[raayllum]

Chessmaster Ezran

It's no secret by this point that Aaravos is a chess master. He has literal pawns, his game motif is consistent across seasons (though mostly carried by the Key of Aaravos in arc 1), is associated with black and white, "eight in a line" from the 6x08 poem could reference 8 across as that's the number of pawns/pieces in a line in chess, and he's been referred to as a chess player, literally:

After more than a millennium of careful planning, moving and manipulating generations of humans and elves like pieces on some cosmic chess board, the machinations of the Midnight Star known as Aaravos are finally coming to bear.

The symbolism behind chess itself also talks about a "cyclical nature," the "unavoidable consequences" of each movement, the relationship in chess "between will and fate, but likewise between liberty and knowledge" and ideas of foresight and knowledge. (Meta here.) These are all things, of course, that Arc 2 is increasingly interested in exploring, looking at the ways characters are trapped by circumstances and choices and also deconstructing the idea of having "no choice".

I don't think at this point we have to prove, then, that Aaravos is a chess master of sorts; this is just the text, particularly because moving pawns around isn't that dissimilar from moving puppets around.

What is far more questionable, then, is Who exactly is Aaravos playing chess against?

Now, there's a few answers that could be the case. As displayed above, Aaravos lost one match against the Archdragons and was subsequently imprisoned, but it seems like maybe he was totally aware they were in the game, per se ("he let his guard down" / "as the day you betrayed me"). And while Aaravos hates the archdragons accordingly ("I'm glad you took down that arrogant monster"), they're very clearly not who his endgame victory is against. If he'd wanted to just destroy only them, he probably could've done so a long time ago.

At the same time, I don't think we can directly say the Startouch elves themselves. While they're the people he seems angriest at ("and when everything they have built lies shattered, I will savor their fall from the sky"), and therefore probably the people he wants revenge against the most... It doesn't seem like the Stars have been aware of what's going on down here in Xadia in centuries, and therefore, haven't been 'responding' to any of Aaravos' moves since he was banished and left behind. I wouldn't that it couldn't be him and Leola in some kind of proxy war, but if First elves like Aaravos are at the top of the magical hierarchy, and magic-less humans are at the bottom, it makes sense for a human to ultimately upend said hierarchy (with or without magic), don't you think?

Additionally, none of this is to say being cognizant of the Game is required to be Aaravos' opponent, but that Aaravos needs an active and reoccurring adversary to respond to. The good news is that he has one.

Now let me explain.

Set Up

While Ezran may not seem like an obvious choice — he's not a mage, he's not even one of Aaravos' current pawns to reward a 180 turn around if they turned against him, nor has he directly foiled Aaravos' plans the way Rayla has (at least once) — I think that's precisely why he's the one who's potentially in this role, symbolically at least.

While other characters are tied to the game motif in being pieces (Avizandum, Harrow and Sarai's graves, Callum and Viren's intros, the wooden Rayla doll from 1x04 of all episodes), Ezran is tied to being a piece mover and recognizing that the game and puzzle exists, each time. One that he can solve; one that he can win.

Now, part of that is helped by Ezran inheriting Harrow's status of being a thematic opposite to Aaravos. Aaravos 'serves' in order to gain control and power, and Harrow tries to even out of the scale of his control and power by serving the people: a servant king. Where Aaravos doesn't seem to see anyone as a person, in line with the way he literally uses his pawns, encourages dark magic, and dismisses his enemies, Ezran sees everyone — including animals, elves, dragons, enemies, etc. — as people (re: his sadness in 3x09 as he has to fight and kill people he wanted to save, because they literally won't stop attacking and have been robbed of their own humanity wilfully).

Piled on top is Ezran's own dichotomy of being both a child and a king ("A child is freer than a king") that mirrors Aaravos deriding the group as "pathetic children" while also relying on Claudia (whose the same age) to free him, and that he's playing a game at all that likewise involves his key ("It's a toy, a piece from a children's game" / "The whining child king, in over his head, and he knows it").

And more than that, Ezran has his own game motif. So let's talk about it:

Hide and Seek (Truth telling and Game Motif)

What begins as a little boy's favourite game, in addition to heartbreakingly always reminding you of just how young Ezran is in canon, evolves into a hide and seek game of world altering proportions. Arc 2 is largely about searching for / the acquirement of fully actualized knowledge (befitting of a mystery, mind you) and subsequently, the game of hide and seek is on for that knowledge. They just have to beat Claudia to the finding, first of the map, and then of the prison.

Knowledge of where the prison is hidden that Ezran uniquely carries and uniquely puts him at risk for. This is, of course, a call back to Ezran being the one to uncover the initial mystery of the egg (similarly to how Callum uncovers the truth behind primal magic and the fates of Rayla's parents). He discovers the egg in the dungeons, he advocates for telling the truth and being open and honest, and he is the Truth Teller of the series in so many ways, even if that doesn't mean he's infallible.

I had a speech planned for today. It was about peace and love and hope. But I think I left something out. I ignored something that was true. I denied something that is undeniable. 

Ezran bears witness to the things that other people don't see, or the other things that people don't understand, as while usually we're let in on the loop ahead of time, Ezran's actions and discoveries — finding the egg, retrieving it, showing up the Bookery in the nick of time — are kept behind closed doors until the reveal. Much like Aaravos, I might add. Ezran wears the blind fold like is father did (screams in Celestial elves) properly, but can see clearly at the same time by extending it to all peoples simultaneously.

If the stars are evil because they are indifferent and potentially ignorant, if Aaravos is evil because he is aware of what's going on but unsympathetic, than Ezran is their true opposite in being 1) consistently and constantly thematically and literally aware of what's going on (i.e. his brother's sadness, Rayla's feelings upon her return, the feelings of dragons, Claudia's fight with Ibis) and 2) holding sympathy regardless (even for Aaravos).

If the truth is hidden, Ezran will find it. And that's exactly why he's uniquely fit to go up against Mr. I never lie in a thematic chess match across the whole series, so let's start unpacking it.

Kingship and Clarity (2x08, 2x09)

I'm not going to touch on S1 that much as the majority of what I would've noted is already in the previous sections, so with that in mind I want to talk the back half of S2, specifically Ezran finding out about Harrow onwards.

Upon receiving the news, Ezran is cruel to both Rayla and himself.

E: You knew? I'm such an idiot! I should've figured it out. When we met you, you had two of those assassin-y ribbon-y things. But one of them fell off that night! R: Yes. That must've been when he fell. E: Fell? Fell?! R: Yes. E: He didn't fall Rayla, he didn't trip and fall on the ground, he got killed!

Now there's parallels here about how Moonshadows will dress things up in prettier language than what's actually happening, and in Harrow's rejection of the same thing from Viren ("Call it what it is: dark magic") and Callum's critique in 3x08 ("You've got a nicer word for it?"). But the most overt thing is what we know about associations with falling and death from the elf we just recently got the name of: Aaravos.

Moving on, I want to talk about how Ezran's realization and acceptance of his father's death causes him to realize that he likewise needs to go home: "Maybe I can help the world better from the throne. I can do whatever I can to stop the war". (Something something Aaravos giving humans magic because he believed they could be 'better'.)

Aaravos was cast out of power and 'heaven' and Ezran ascends, yes, but Aaravos' descent caused him to lose clarity in childish revenge, whereas Ezran acquires clarity by moving into altruistic adulthood. He's not being radically changed morals or principles wise, but he's not stagnating. Furthermore, Ezran's bond with Zym that he acquires in 2x09 is like a 'healthy' version of Aaravos' channelling through Viren.

Ezran and Zym find that, due to their bond of love and understanding, they can see where the other person is, embodying the principle of the blindfold's basis being that you can see through another person's eyes and perspective. Here, Ezran's empathy / compassion is made completely literal, and helps Zym achieve the victory of flight in order to likewise save his brother and friend. Aaravos, meanwhile, channels power through Viren, and subsequently withdraws it entirely when it no longer suits him; Aaravos is seeing through Viren's eyes only, and they don't even win. Aaravos is eagerly participating in the fight at the beginning, but when he realizes his pawn may die, he switches tactics and "stays" with him. In contrast, Ezran and Zym achieve their aims and maintain their literal separation while being emotionally closer than ever.

This is all just set up for the Game, though. The first match that Aaravos and Ezra have, of course, is in 3x04 with

An Exchange of Kings (3x04)

As a game, chess is all about exchange and sacrifice. When Ezran is pushed into a corner of treating people like pawns (like symbols), he hates it.

What follows, then, is an exchange. In chess, if you get a pawn to the end of the board, you can exchange it for another piece that's already been taken (with the sole exception of your king, as that's checkmate). We see Aaravos do this slightly with Sir Sparklepuff and Viren in theory in 5x09, but we also see it here more directly with one king (Ezran) being swapped for another (Viren).

This is also, currently, the closest we see Ezran be a 'pawn' in any conceivable way. He's at the end of the board, he's being exchanged, except this time it's for the benefit of the opposing side. The main reason I mandate, then, that Ezran is still an Opponent rather than a piece is because of how this trade is inverted on an even broader scale later on this season:

The Final Battle (Or Not)

As king, and this is the particular piece of Chessmaster Ezran I think I adore above all else, he is fundamentally encouraged to treat his subjects like pawns.

Now, Ezran doesn't want to treat anyone this way. He doesn't view anyone, animal, human, elf or otherwise, as Not People. Even when the human armies are decidedly no longer literally human, and raging fiery monsters attacking him and everything he has left, he still holds sympathy for them and compassion for Claudia.

Claudia — and Viren — meanwhile, don't see their pawns that way at all. Claudia has yet to ever see Rayla as a person, only recognizing the elves who conveniently help her (Terry, Aaravos) as worthy of identified personhood; Viren and Aaravos' overall "plan" was to kill a baby dragon and use all the human army as "distractions". They never cared about anyone's personhood, once they'd gotten that far.

It is Ezran's distaste for seeing people as pawns ("Bait's not for sale, he's my friend!" / saving the baby glow toads) — preferring to see himself, like his father, as a servant king — versus that being all Aaravos has seemingly done for centuries that makes me feel like Ezran is the personal perfect opponent to eventually triumph in the end.

And going forward into S4, we see a few more of their matches take place:

S4 Ezran as the decision maker (4x04, 4x06)

One of the things I was most excited going into S3 was that Ezran, who'd been decisive but largely passive in the first two seasons, was going to be forced to make some difficult decisions. I was extra pleased, then, when we see Ezran step even more into that leadership role in S4 and S5; no longer is he mostly going along with Callum and Rayla's plans. Often times he's the one ultimately setting things up or making said decisions when the group is together.

It's his idea to tackle things together, and help Zubeia after all, in 4x04 (though he looks to his brother to receive an encouraging nod) and to bring Rayla along when she expresses doubts.

It's his idea to go find the puzzle pieces and express those next steps.

It's even his idea to bring Zubeia to Katolis that helps free up the Storm Spire for Claudia, as she takes the dragons leaving "as a sign" (unintentionally on Ezran's behalf, of course). But if Ezran is the stealth opponent here and there to Aaravos' mini matches, this is also something has happened before and will likely happen again, thanks to

The Orphan Queen

Chaos and confusion erupted and war threatened to tear Xadia apart, as now the elves suspected that the dragons had killed their queen. But truth came from an unexpected source. A young human girl discovered a great secret of history. A dangerous deceiver was revealed.

The last time Aaravos' plans firmly fell to pieces, and what led to his imprisonment, was ultimately the Orphan Queen. I've talked more about her potential parallels to Ezran in my Mirrored Trio theory post (as well as Callum's potential parallels to the Jailer) so I won't repeat too much here, but is an option if you'd like to see more.

The important thing to note here, though, is that Ezran's arc will 1) probably parallel the Orphan Queen's in ultimately being part of Aaravos' permanent defeat and 2) perhaps being one of the first to recognize the full scope of Aaravos' plans. I'd love it in particular if in S6, while at Katolis, Ezran does research into his ancient royal ancestor and learns more about her. Too late maybe to pass on the relevant information to keep Callum and Rayla from disaster, but... I expect this:

I should have seen it before. Ha! Long ago, it was a human who saw through the Fallen Star's schemes and helped Xadia put an end to them. You look so much like her.

to come to fruition eventually, in S7 probably. Aaravos may win his chess game in S6, after all, but he will eventually lose.

Season five, of course, also offered more evidence aligned with this reading:

Season Five Set Up

In S5, we see Ezran continue to be the Retriever and finder of objects in ways that thus far no else has really achieved.

Claudia tries and fails to retrieve objects, mostly; Viren probably comes closest, and it'll be more of an aim for Callum and Rayla in S6, I still expect Ezran to ultimately pull ahead in future seasons.

He's also associated heavily with light in the TDP short stories in ways we've largely only seen given to Rayla in canon as well, highlighting another similarity between them, and placing Ezran in a similar position as Zym as the world's hope ("Look at them, playing together. That's hope. They're the ones that are going to break the cycle"):

Even the waning moonlight struggled to pierce its veil. Somewhere out there were his friends. His duty. His king. Two years before, when the world had seemed darkest, Soren began to imagine Ezran as a kindling flame, a bright little light holding back the abyss. When he’d named Corvus a Crownguard, he’d told him that the young king was not only Katolis’ hope, but all of Xadia’s, too. Soren had sworn to protect and tend that light. To nurture it. And in his darkest moments, that oath gave him a reason to feel strong again, a way to keep smiling.

Ezran also acknowledges outright in 5x01 exactly what Aaravos is doing and is the first in canon to use language that references Aaravos' game as a chess game with it, too:

The Archmage Aaravos is trying to escape his magical prison. His pawns are working, even as we speak, to find him and release him back into our world. We need to stop them. Can you please help us find his prison?

Ezran's Plans

In the latter half of s5, we also see the group routinely go with or accommodate Ezran's plans as well, even if they don't all necessarily agree. This is true in 5x05, in which we see Ezran reiterate that violence is a last resort:

E: If Akiyu made it, then she must know where it is. Then we can stop Viren and Claudia from releasing Aaravos. C: Or, hear me out [...] How bout we hitch a ride up there, borrow this Novablade, then we wait for Aaravos to get out, and just stab stab, buh-bye bad guy! E: Wait, slow down. Shouldn't that be the last resort? If we can stop Aaravos from getting out at all, we can solve this without any violence.

and in 5x06 with talking to Finnegrin and saving the Baitlings.

R: But he's not known for doing favours out of the goodness of his heart. E: It's not a favour. The fate of the world is at stake. I'm going to go talk to him. C: I'll go with Ezran while you and Soren try the docks.

5x09

That said, I think about this line from 5x09 when it comes to all of the above:

E: One step ahead is okay. Because Domina Profundis told me something they don't know: the secret of the prison.

We find out, of course, that this is the prison is a pearl in a clam's mouth... something that Soren seemingly knew on account of travelling with Ez, but that Rayla and Callum did not. This puts a target on Ezran's back in the confrontation scene — she primarily attacks and interrogates him ("You know, don't you? Tell me everything you know little king, or I'll squeeze it out of you!") — and Ezran nearly gives the game away to disaster, so it's, again, not like he's perfect.

It does however showcase yet another example of Ezran knowing something that other characters discover after the fact, and more rarely in TDP, that the audience discovers after the fact (compare this with how we know Harrow is dead well before the princes do, for example, or that Claudia and Viren are already up to no good in early S4).

I also don't think I have to spell out that Ezran knowing the Secret of the Prison — the very thing he set out to find in 4x05! — in seasons called the Mystery of Aaravos is noteworthy, either. While there are certainly more secrets to uncover — how, for example, the prison was built exactly; how was Aaravos trapped within it; how did two humans like the Jailer and the Orphan Queen get involved — I think those are firmly moving into Aaravos backstory territory alongside the rest of his mysteries (cube included) than just relating purely to the prison's construction, per se.

Ezran received the last pieces of the puzzle, and he carried it through to the end to what, technically speaking, should be checkmate.

I can't wait to see him do it again some day, successfully this time.

Values and Gift Giving Subversion

I've already said that Ezran primarily takes on Harrow's mantle in being the the clearest thematic opposite to Aaravos thus far. That doesn't mean Callum and Rayla don't have their oppositions and parallels to Aaravos as well (they absolutely do; Rayla is currently a pretty strong foil!) but again that Ezran is the certified Opponent.

A few final ways we see this manifest is in Ezran's values. We've already seen the ultimate difference in their views on personhood, but one of my favourite ways that heavily intersects it that Ezran loves all his friends for the exact reasons Aaravos berates them in 4x04.

Aaravos taunts Rayla over her seeming inability to kill, but Ezran is the first to tell Rayla that's unequivocally a good thing: "You do realize I'm an assassin who hasn't killed anyone?" "I think that's a good thing."

Soren is a failed son 'unloved' by his father, but Ezran reaffirms time and time again how much he loves Soren, and the two always have a kind word or look for each other ("I just don't want to fail you too" "Thanks Soren [...] You're the best crownguard a king could ask for").

In a season where Callum learns his path of magic may have gotten him in a world of trouble, Ezran reminds him of the positive effect magic has had on his life, even if it's difficult: "Lots of things are hard, Callum. Like magic. But you figured that out".

We also see that Aaravos is prone to false gifts and dangling carrots. He gave Ziard a staff that couldn't ultimately protect him. He gives Viren another month of life mostly to bait Claudia into helping him. He uses and discards; these people don't mean anything to him. Not anymore.

Ezran, meanwhile, is nothing but sincere, particularly in his presentation of his crown to Finnegrin and Rex Igneous ("It's not worthless, it's made of my father's sword" / "I wanted to carry that strength with me") while also recognizing the error in his thinking: "We've got it all wrong. We offered gifts that meant a lot to us, but the truth is, they don't mean anything to you." He then realizes what Rex Igneous truly needs, and it is successful; we see this again in how his speech in 4x03 helps heal Zubeia. Ezran sees emotional scars clearly, especially after 4x03, and he responds accordingly and sensitively to them most of the time. He knows what people truly need, and that's why he's a good gift giver.

Conclusion

In the final season I think it would be Neato if Ezran had to spearhead an army against Aaravos' forces and send his brother and friends in as generals and soldiers because he doesn't want to treat them like pawns, he loves them, but to beat Aaravos at his own game he has to do so (until maybe Callum can flip the board on its head, thematically, anyway). Thank you bye

[aliencatwafers]

Mario and Kirby Headcanons

MARIO Letting Fawful teach you how to cook is like letting Gordan Ramsey free to insult your cooking. That is, it’s not going to go well. Fawful will tell you that you’re going to make the food bland since you’re not adding enough salt, but he flies off the handle when you add a pinch more. He also doesn’t follow a recipe unless it’s baking. Fawful has recipes downloaded into his brain

On the other hand, Cackletta CANNOT cook. If she so much as lays one piece of bread on top of another, it will combust into flames. Before she was exiled, this wasn’t much of an issue thanks to her meals being made by the castle cooks. When she was exiled, she had to order takeout and eventually use a potion to brainwash someone into cooking for her. She would switch between the methods until Fawful got into cooking. She relied on his skills for food.

The Shroob Princesses always had chefs to cook for them and the chefs were treated really well. But Elder Princess Shroob loves to cook and wanted to learn. She loves the garden and prefers to play rough in sports. Her sister on the other hand thinks it’s a peasant’s job. She’s also never gardened. She prefers more intellectually stimulating things like betting, chess, poker, gossip, painting, making strategies for battle and social webs, weaving tapestries, reading about economies/flowers/war, and shaping the education system for the Shroobs. While she’s been dismissed for not being physically strong, her mind has been her best weapon. She loves to think, plan, and predict everyone’s moves. So when her sister got trapped in the Cobalt Star, she took the opportunity to become the new leader and act as if her sister was long gone. Truth be told, she was never going to reunite the pieces. She wanted to rule by herself so her sister knows what it’s like to be in the shadows and to prove she can do it. Princess Shroob is also more blood thirsty than her sister and used to resort to physical strength to prove she’s better than her sister. Now she relies more on her mind and plays to her strengths. She regrets leaving her sister out to dry when the Mario Bros defeat her. She knew her sister always loved her but wanted to be equal. Sometimes she needs her big sister.

Elder Princess Shroob, being older, loves her sister and Shroobs. She loves them all and would do anything for them while her sister is selfish. But she’s no benevolent leader. She runs the society with an iron claw, is more than willing to sacrifice her Shroobs for her safety (as seen in the battle with her), and reinforces the strict and inhumane hierarchy and belief that Shroobs are superior. But she tells the Shroobs that this is all for their own good and to prioritize the Shroobs as a collective rather than the individual. She doesn’t like to play favorites and sometimes had to shove aside her sister’s needs for the good of the nation. She loves her sister and knows she has issues but hopes her sister will mature and understand why she isn’t going to be the center of attention, not all the time. She would do anything for her sister even if her sister betrays her. It’ll still hurt her to the core but she’ll still try.

Princess Shroob runs the society as a cult of personality where she’s the top priority and she often plays favorites while watching everyone fight each other. She’s strategic and plays smarter rather than harder like her sister does (in not only battle but also politics). She gets a thrill of the attention and harms anyone who talks about Elder Princess Shroob. She’s in care now!

Elder Princess Shroob’s full name is Elder Princess Shroobella while the younger’s full name is Princess Shroovannah.

Antasma can make a PBJ without the bread exploding. He prefers to eat nightmares but can cook the bare minimal for others if he must.

Peach is better at cakes while Fawful is better at sandwiches

Mario doesn’t know how to always express his emotions but Luigi is there to teach him how and tells him it’s okay to feel sad and cry.

KIRBY

King Dedede stole the food of Dreamland to not only feed himself but promise support for the Waddledees and encourage the residents to treat him as King so they won’t starve

After Kirby smacked him, Dedede made starvation illegal in Dreamland and ordered all governments to ensure each citizen had access to food (at least like 2,000 calories a day). It actually brought him more favor with the people than stealing their food and only giving food back in exchange for support.

Star Warriors are a diverse group of people with different nations and cultures and languages but they all share a need to fight. They once shared a planet but got scattered across the galaxies into separate groups by Nightmare and the Ancients. They now go across galaxies fighting as many foes as possible.

When Meta Knight landed in the Dream Fountain and met King Dedede, Meta’s English skills were weak. So when it met, it was chaos! Dedede kept talking in English while Meta Knight spoke in Spanish. But seeing that Meta was separated from everything, Dedede offered to pay Meta as a mercenary. Meta agreed, met like minded people across Popstar, and saved up a lot of money for the Halberd. When Meta’s English improved, he convinced Dedede to fund the Halberd to protect Dreamland and maintain Dedede’s rule. Dedede agreed!

Seeing the lazy lifestyle of Dreamland was a culture shock. Meta had grown up in a culture where it was do or die, and relaxing for a moment meant you would be attacked. He feared for the residents and tried to take over Dreamland and didn’t even consider Dedede the true king. Kirby smacked him.

When Dedede was learning Spanish to talk to Meta, he made a lot of mistakes like “you embarazada” which made Meta laugh and explain that Dedede just asked if Meta was pregnant and he wasn’t pregnant. Dedede also said “puta” rather than “bota” which made Meta explain, panicked, that you must emphasize the “o” in bota.

Eventually Dedede’s Spanish got better and he’s rusty in speaking it but can understand most of Spanish if he hears or reads it

If Susie, Marx, Tarnaza, or Magolor make one wrong move, Meta keeps an eye out and plans to dispose of their bodies if they hurt Kirby, Bandana, or Dedede.

Kirby loves edgy heavy metal with lots of screaming and wails of agony. This terrified everyone in Dreamland. Dedede likes rock/jazz/penguin pop, Bandana likes classical music, and Meta likes Spanish/Mexican music (also loves house music)

Meta has killed many people by his blade

Kirby doesn’t realize all the lore happening around him, all he knows is that his friends are in trouble and he needs to stop who causes the trouble

Kirby had a big grudge against Dedede for a while until the two settled their differences

Susie feels stupid for not realizing that her boss was her father, but her friends tell her she didn’t know and she did her best

Most humans had been rendered extinct as they are subject to terrors beyond their comprehension. Many had to flee in spaceships. Adeline is one of the lucky ones - her great great great great great grandparents were poor and had snuck onto a ship with a small colony. Most of the colony died out as they planet hopped and baby Adeline was the only survivor. She was taken in and raised in Cappy Town

Meta keeps a fatherly bond to Kirby and wants to protect him but also prepare him for the life of a Star Warrior as they are the same species

Dedede and Meta are filing paperwork to be married and are super gay for each other. They’ve adopted Kirby and Bandana.

[wafflinglumos]

My Golden Trio Headcanons (some modern some not)

Harry:

Oddly good at beer pong.

One time caught the snitch in his mouth and almost died.

Is REALLY good at cooking(less headcanon and more actually canon)

Loves the rain, absolutely hates thunder.

Had American southern tea ONCE and never looked at Earl Grey the same way again (Hermione gets upset about it every time they get tea together)

Soap opera lover(he watches them with Ron)

Is really good at drawing birds specifically.

He’s good at pottery but can only make bowls and plates.

SPIDER-MAN FAN

Ron:

Chess lover, both magic AND muggle(that’s canon but I’m including it anyways)

When Harry tried American sweet tea for the first time, Ron got to try fried butter for the first time too, he promptly inhaled it.

He hates crabs.

He often has stare offs with Crookshanks which either end with Ron getting mauled, or Crookshanks getting locked out of the room.

Is a DIEHARD Beastie Boys fan, Hermione introduced him to them and he hasn’t looked back since.

His favorite color is the exact shade of brown that Hermione’s eyes are :)

Soap opera lover(he watches them with Harry)

Wears bright neon crocs, has worn them on dates with Hermione before, will wear them on dates with Hermione again.

Got a buzz cut one time and Hermione screamed in pure unbridled terror when she saw it(she did not speak for him for a week, he had to magically grow it back)

Bad at pottery but loves playing with the clay.

DEADPOOL FAN

Hermione:

Aroace spectrum(because I love projecting onto characters and it’s canon in my eyes)

One time tried to straighten her hair and both Ron and Harry got scared when they saw it(it did not work)

Knows ALL of the Elder Scrolls lore

Has played Skyrim to completion over 19 times.(that is not an exaggeration, she’s pulled various all nighters)

HORRIFIC sleep schedule

Will not read romance, UNLESS it’s completely historically accurate.

Bad at drawing, really good at pottery oddly enough.

While she’s good at pottery, she absolutely despises the feel of wet clay, and then the feel of dry clay on her skin so she doesn’t sculpt stuff without gloves on.

Hates the texture of pasta, it has to be made in a VERY specific way for her to enjoy it.

Doesn’t like being smooched on the temple because it’s too close to her eyes and she thinks it’s unsanitary.

Had a seafood boil one time and was out like a light for a full DAY.

Tried a vegan diet for like a year but she accidentally ate a wet piece of ham in a sleep deprived delirium.

Beans on toast FIEND.

One time had a five day mental breakdown over magic and specifically quidditch brooms not following the laws of physics.

Dinosaur nerd.

Dr Strange and Reed Richards fan

Golden Trio:

Codependent.

They have a book club, Ron’s favorite genre is a mix between really cheesy badly written romances and westerns, Harry’s favorite genre is murder mysteries and philosophy, funnily enough, Hermione doesn’t like murder mysteries because she guesses the plot/plot twists and they’re always correct, she usually only reads non-fiction but she occasionally likes accurate science fiction and she also enjoys biographies.

Hermione once sat them down to watch a bunch of muggle movies, some Harry recognized, while Ron was just utterly entranced by the television, occasionally shaking Harry’s shoulder when something happened on screen.

While Hermione was finishing her seventh/ “eighth” year she was sent at LEAST ten letters DAILY, from both Ron and Harry.

They shared an apartment for like two years and would quiet often all sleep in the same bed.

That habit followed them into adulthood, and they occasionally sleep in the same bed.

Both Harry and Ron, along with Ginny, will flaunt Hermione being the minister, often.

Harry has forced the other two to rewatch every Star Wars movie, more than ten times.

Ron and Hermione broke up one time in their relationship and Harry was more distraught than both of them combined.

[enbysiriusblack]

jegulily are nerds. huge, giant, nerds. but in very different ways.

lily is a nerd in the sense she spends most of her time in the library, planning her career and studying for classes, obsessing over fictional books, playing chess, reading lord of the rings a million times, practices potion making for fun and likes to make the same potion over and over, gets excited over quidditch stats and making types of plays but finds watching the actual game boring

regulus is a nerd in the sense he obsesses over classical music and relentlessly learns compositions, secretly loves classic romance books and uses them to work out how to socialise, spends all his time studying or on independent projects usually related to something in one of his classes, was ojce given a cigarette and his first thought was to dissect it open

james is a nerd in the sense he obsessively watched star wars over and over and then brought every piece of merch he could find, always gets top marks in everything, willingly reads extremely high level transfiguration books for fun all the time, spends all day working out quidditch stats, and had a map making phase as a kid (which he still has)

[starryficsfinishwen]

✧。◟ᴇɴᴄʜᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ — chrome x reader [PGR] [Happy Activation Day Chrome!!]

please don't be in love with someone else

a.n. - sometimes chrome just raghhhhhh. HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHROMEE!! I promise to finish that other fic for you LOL also thank you for being one of my resilient lil construct, my Lucia and Wanshi are happy to be with you <3 mwa mwa (IM SORRY AGAIN IM LATE)

pairing - chrome x f!commandant

words - 7,881 (it's why I took long TvT)

tags/warnings - none. fluff! alcohol is involved yet again! chrome x reader shenanigans. yall up to what happens in the end uwu. non-sexual naked cuddling. cute stuff for chrome because happy activation day!!

The stars seemed to have blessed Babylonia tonight.

A crowded room. A brightly lit, dazzling chandelier. Wine and champagne glasses clinking together. Orchestral music filling the room — this is a sight that those who can afford luxury would generally see in their life. High society placed itself on top of the pedestal, overlooking its body that wore no gold.

Forget the war that raged outside; Babylonia beheld the grandeur of the rich folk for tonight, and the stars had rewarded their presence by granting the brightest evening for them.

Such sight is normal to a Smith. After all, they were always born with a silver spoon, to feed and to be fed by high society, for everyone to see.

But not for Chrome. He always thought this life was never fit for him.

There he is — champagne in hand, forcing laughter and faking smiles to those who are around him. Humanoid legs are already used to the wages of war, yet they trembled under the hours of talking to people that only blur in his M.I.N.D.

He is only here due to his father, Mr. Smith. “For you to be familiar with the people you will work with in the future,” he always said to Chrome, “be on your best attitude. Show them the makings of a true Smith.”

But they only bore him. He would rather be doing things that are mundane in the eyes of high society, such as lounging in the comforts of Strike Hawk's dormitory; dealing with Kamui's antics, helping Wanshi fix his sleeping pod, tasting Camu's dishes...or cleaning the corners of his room, or strolling the walkways of Babylonia, or playing chess with a certain someone...

A scene flashed in his memory — a warm hand reaching out to him, a sweet smile, a soft laugh, and the chessboard with scattered chess pieces in front of him. A scene that happened not too long ago, a memory so fresh that made him flush a light shade of pink. Was it the alcohol? No, usual alcohol would never make a construct drunk, unless...?

“How are you holding up, Chrome?” A familiar voice called out to him.

Mr. Smith. Holding an identical champagne glass in his hand, he looks up to Chrome with an expectant gaze. Chrome straightens, clearing his throat. “Mr. Smith, I am doing well. I have met the people you told me earlier.”

“Glad to know,” He nods, “it's beneficial as a Smith to meet your future prospects. You know that already, Chrome, don't you?”

“I do, Mr. Smith,” Chrome solemnly spoke.

“Other than that, have you seen the Commandants who are invited tonight?” Smith tsked, “they have commendable records. They seem to enjoy tonight's feast before they go back to war once more. Especially Gray Raven's Commandant, hm.”

Chrome's ears perked up. “Gray Raven's Commandant is here tonight?”

He knew the party was for high society, with some specially invited commandants. Yet, Gray Raven's Commandant? He overlooked that part, why didn't he know?

“Yes, it's understandable due to the glory they have brought to Babylonia countless times now.” Smith paused, moving his hand to make a circular motion with his glass, “I've seen them earlier. Now, they are nowhere to be found.”

“Ah,” Chrome slightly faltered, muttering, “a shame.”

“They also seem to blend well with us, I'd say.” Smith hums, taking a sip from his glass now, “they look well with us, even. We should try asking them to join when they retire.”

A particular thought crosses in Chrome's M.I.N.D. — a person wearing a simple dress amongst the crowd yet so vibrant, the same warm hand he saw as she held onto his arm, smiling fondly at him. The very thought that somehow made his heart crumble in a good way —

“Chrome?” Smith asked, causing Chrome to snap back to reality, “are you alright? You look red.”

“I do?” Chrome muttered, “I'm sorry. There must be something wrong with my cooling system after I got injured last battle. I am planning to get a maintenance check once more.”

“Alright then,” waving his hand, Smith nodded, “I'll leave you be. I need to meet with other people.”

“Thank you, Mr. Smith.” Chrome approaches the nearby table tp place his glass, “I will return soon.”

Finally, away from the party, Chrome found himself lingering outside. The garden outside of the hall seems to be the answer to his dilemma, the cool breeze and the artificial night decorated with the authentic stars sparkling above him. He breathes into this sight — once more, a thought that popped into his M.I.N.D.

“The sight may be beautiful in Babylonia,” your voice sent shivers down his spine, “but the ones here on Earth are prettier.”

Bright irises staring at him with a gentle gaze amongst the dark plains, a genuine smile on your lips, “don't you think so, Chrome?”

The memory shook Chrome, his heartbeat skipping. What was it with him lately? Thinking of a particular person that he holds with high regard? It seemed unlike him, the man who only thought of perfection. Battles and tactics are his expertise that makes up his thoughts, yet such stray memories and incredulous scenarios have distracted him since his recent rendezvous with that certain commandant...

His hands tremble. They seem lonely. A small part of him wishes those familiar hands would hold them right now.

Gray Raven's esteemed Commandant. The very thought of her makes Chrome weak. He who should maintain a professional, beneficial relationship with her. Yet, thoughts beyond that relationship seemed to have spawned in his M.I.N.D.

Chrome entertains that thought to no avail. After all, a small part of him wishes he should have seen or heard from you tonight.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star~”

Yes, something like a nursery rhyme that is sung by you. Sometimes, Chrome thinks you drove him insane to the point that he's having hallucinations of you.

“...how I wonder where you are~”

Wait. That voice seems closer and familiar. Surely, he wasn't dreaming. Chrome rushes to the source of the voice.

“up above the world so high,” the voice hiccupped, “like a diamond in the ska-ay~!”

Chrome thinks this sight is one of the best he's ever seen: sitting on the ledge of a fountain, gazing at the water beneath, your sky-blue dress nearly submerged yet you didn't look like she minded; in fact, in your hand was a glass of unfinished wine, and your face seemed too pleased with your antics, a contagious smile written on your face.

Gray Raven Commandant in the flesh. And drunk. (According to Chrome's readings anyway)

“Commandant!” Chrome's voice - shaking? - echoed throughout the garden, making you look, “Over here! What are you doing?”

You finally look at Chrome, your usual bright eyes laced with tiredness and mirth. Upon recognizing the figure that was approaching you, you cheerfully raised your glass to him.

“Hello stranger!!” your shoulders shake with visible joy, “you're hereeee, come on, come on! Join me in watching the fishies~”

Stranger? Perhaps the alcohol fogged your senses. “Fishies?” Curious, Chrome follows where your hand points, to the fountain...devoid of any fish, “I...see?”

Instead of fish, Chrome could recognize that the 'fish' the Commandant referred to are the coins that people must have thrown into the fountain. The reflection brought by the moonlight highlighted with the pattern underneath the fountain must have tricked you into thinking she was talking to fishes. Not wanting to break your delight, Chrome plays along.

“I named that lil' blue fish Lee, because he looks grumpy.” You giggle as you point to a blue-shaded coin, “then that pink one is Liv!”

“That's cute, Commandant,” Chrome chuckles, opting to sit at a considerable distance from you, “who else did you name?”

Lights over the garden seemed ethereal. Haloed with the gentle glow of the skies, the white noise of the party inside the hall, and the mellow laughter of the Commandant — Chrome could easily capture this memory for a lifetime, although you couldn't recognize him. He could try taking away the glass in hand and tell you that you're drunk, but he does not. Instead, he asks more about the 'fishes' you found. And somehow, you went silent.

“Commandant?” Chrome gently pokes the silent Commandant, “are you alright?”

“Mmm,” closing your eyes, you tapped your chin, “stranger, I can't see Chrome...”

The nickname seems to grow on him now. “Well,” he shrugged, “maybe he's sleeping.”

“Fishies never sleep!” opening your eyes just to stare at Chrome, “that's basic knowledge!”

Chrome could finally see you properly: the dress snugly fit you, the train already submerged in the water. Some strands of your hair framed your face perfectly. Alcohol flushed your cheeks in the shade of pink. Irises that still lit brightly amidst the dark, a sight Chrome could never forget. Blinking to come back to reality, Chrome reached out to brush away the strand that was on your lips.

“Some fishes sleep with their eyes open.” Chrome smiled, “but what you said is still, it's true, Commandant is always smart.”

A smug smirk flashed on your lips, arms crossed to assert her amusement, “hm! I told you!”

One of the sleeves fell to your arm as you moved. Flickering to that, Chrome spoke before reaching out to lift it, “Yes, of course. Commandant, are you not cold?”

“Nope!” Somehow filled with a new burst of energy, you drunkenly placed the glass in front of Chrome, making Chrome reel back, before struggling to stand up on the ledge with the heels on. Chrome acts quickly, aiding you by holding your legs for support. “I realized something!”

“Commandant! What are you doing, get down!”

“I need to find Chrome!” you spoke with such reverence, it could make Chrome cry, yet it only made him scared, “he could be drowning!”

Drowning? “Commandant, I know you're smart,” Chrome hesitates, before speaking, “but fishes don't dro-”

“-I know what I'm doing!” you grin at him, rotating your arm as if exercising and exhales, “that's why I'm going to save him from this ocean!”

At that moment, Chrome realizes where he went wrong. “Wait, Commandant, no!”

At least he tried to stop her.

A shivering Commandant is wrapped in Chrome's coat for tonight.

“Are you alright, Commandant?” Chrome spoke as he ran through the streets, “do you still feel cold?”

After the stupid attempt at jumping head-first into the water, Chrome had to save you - even after trying to get away from his hold. Now, you were tightly wrapped in Chrome's coat, carried like a princess in his arms.

Sneezing, you shook your head furiously, “I'm fine, you stranger! Why did you stop me?”

“The waters in Babylonia in the evening get colder. I don't want you to suffer from hypothermia.”

You whine, before sneezing once more. “I was fine! Oh well, I managed to get Chrome though.”

“You managed to- what?”

Fishing out of his hold and the coat, you childishly held out a white and blue-tinted coin. Chrome could only sigh in disbelief.

“Also, put me down, you stranger!” Attempting to wiggle out, you whine more as Chrome tightens his hold on you, the familiar way illuminated by the lights already in sight, “my mama said not to trust strangers!”

“Right,” Chrome laughed, his heart skipping a beat, “don't worry, I'm taking you to Chrome right now.”

Halfway through the run, you drifted off to sleep (and it granted Chrome the opportunity to see you comfortable with your guard down). Finally, they arrived in front of the Smith Estate.

Carefully opening the door, Chrome is met with a comforting silence. Were the cleaning robots still around? He knew his father wouldn't be around until the next day, which meant the robots were the only company. Stepping inside, he finds the place deserted, the faint sound of the Commadant's breathing filling the room. Placing you (not minding the water dripping off of you) to his room on his bed, Chrome rushes to the kitchen.

Still no robots around. Easy to explain and less hassle to explain why a stranger was in his bed. He'll worry about that the next day. Quickly, he grabbed a few pieces of food from the fridge and concocted a hangover drink and water.

Upon returning to his room, Chrome finds you still asleep on his bed. Silently placing the items he brought for you, Chrome wistfully gazes at you.

“you're always taking care of me, Chrome,” you'd say if you were awake, your voice echoes in his M.I.N.D., “I want to return the favor.” (You are now corrupting his thoughts.)

A little stir from you made Chrome snap out of his daydream. Slowly opening your eyes, looking around your surroundings in a daze, Chrome leans down to check on you.

“Commandant,” he softly calls out to you, hand touching yours, “are you awake? Can you sit up?”

“Mmmhm,” rubbing your eyes as you sat up, Chrome aiding you, “where am I...?”

“You're in my room. I will take you back to Gray Raven's headquarters when you've freshened up and rested. Come on, drink some water.”

Your legs dangle on the side of Chrome's bed as you sat up. Your figure, although shivering from the stunt, still seems smaller than him. Chrome reached out to grab the glass of water and hold it out for you, but you only stare at him.

“Commandant?”

“Ch...” you whisper, slowly lifting your cold hands to cup Chrome's cheeks, “Chrome...”

His heart flutters at the call of his name. With a free hand, he caresses the hold on his cheeks. “Commandant?”

“Why are you...hot?”

Chrome's cheeks burn at your touch, he noticed. Was it really the cooling system, or that his growing fondness for the Commandant of another team making him like this?

“The cooling system,” he chose the first option, “I'm trying to get it checked, don't worry.”

“Mmh, Chrome...”

Your innocent, sleepy eyes were looking at him. And you were leaning closer to him. A human instinct, Chrome leans forward as well, until their foreheads touch.

“...Chrome. Why don't you call me by my name?”

It feels expensive. It feels surreal. He wanted to tell her, but the words die in his throat.

“I will only do so, if you wanted me to do it, Commandant.”

“Mmh.” Your breath fans Chrome's own lips, further intensifying the heat in both of your cheeks. “Then, Chrome...”

He closes his eyes. Closer, closer...until you pulled away so abruptly. And then, a warm liquid spilled across his chest.

Chrome's eyes opened. Sometimes, the timings are uncanny.

—

A bathtub full of bubbles, lavender dousing the room with its intoxicating smell. Near the bathtub, Chrome sweats nervously as he stares at the guilty figure sitting on the toilet.

“I'm sorry,” the Commandant, who was usually strong and courageous in the face of danger, shrunk in guilt, voice timid and remorse, “I didn't mean to puke in front of you.”

“It's alright, it's not your fault,” he dismisses it, smiling slightly, “I was planning to get you changed...”

He is already wearing a new set of clothing, compared to you. After that quick nap, you seem sober. But based on Chrome's readings, you are still far from being sober. At least, you recognize him now. Squeaking, you shook your head. “I can't just let it slide. Is there anything I can do for Chrome?”

Kneeling on one knee, Chrome awkwardly pats you. “It's okay, really. Um...”

A reddening blush was on Chrome's cheeks as the words died in his throat. He motions to your soiled clothes, clearing his throat in an attempt to gather his pride.

“Commandant, I am going to...” whispering, “...I'm going to take off your clothes so you can...um, take a bath.”

You stare at him. Blinking tired eyes at him, you slowly nodded. “Okay.”

You turn your back on him, presenting the zipper on your back. For you, it seemed normal (Liv and Lucia are always hands-on whenever you are invited to events like this, so they're seen what's behind those clothes). But Chrome, whose ventilation was now out of place from the possible outcomes running through his head, was shaking and turning into a blushing tomato.

“You can unzip me, Chrome,” you pipped, noticing Chrome's silence, “I can't reach the top.”

A shaky exhale from Chrome. He mutters something you couldn't hear, but could feel the small pressure from his hand holding your hair to the side before resting on your shoulder.

“I will...start unzipping you, Commandant.”

It feels...intimate. The way Chrome held onto the zipper with care, thoughts running wild in his M.I.N.D., dragging it down slowly. You notice it, despite the alcohol fogging your thoughts. The sound of Chrome's nervous breathing, the water dripping from the faucet, the bubbles on the tub — it almost makes you sober.

However, a question seemed to linger on your lips. But before you could ask, Chrome had already unzipped your dress, the sleeves finally down on your shoulders.

“I-I'm done, Commandant.”

You turned to Chrome, a smile on your lips, “Thank you! But...are you...okay...?”

“Yes.”

You weren't that convinced. In front of you, Chrome's hands shook, and his face was in the deepest shade of red. You tilted your head to the side, before shimmying out of your clothes. Yes, still in front of the man who has been nothing but an angel to you.

“I'm done!” You excitedly quipped, standing up, causing the dress to fall to the floor. “where am I going next?”

Seemingly snapping out of his trance, Chrome looks down to pick up your clothes and dashes to the door. He stops by the door frame, his back facing you. “I need to put your clothes in the washer. They'll be ready after you take a bath.”

“Chrome, will-”

But he was already out of the door.

Chrome remembers every part of the laundry process, even without help from the robots. Yet, even though he has loaded up the washing machine (he knows it'll be done in at least 2 hours, clean and fragrant), his hands are still shaking, the memory in the bathroom turning his mind into a haze.

Even when he closed his eyes after he unzipped your dress, or when he heard it drop to the floor, he couldn't help but imagine — how your skin must feel under his touch, soft or smooth; the expanse of your back, would there be goosebumps like when you touch him; would there still be a smile on your face even when you would know about his feelings?

He accidentally slams the door of the washing machine too hard. It's all pointless, really; all he wanted was to show how eager his rapt attention, yet terrified that he may have crossed unwanted boundaries. Maybe he needed some rest. That's right - it has been a long week anyways. Sighing, he leaves to go back to the bathroom, in case you fell back to sleep...

— except, he called it too early.

“Chroooome,” you cried out as you whimpered in the tub, bubbles covering everywhere but your face, “I'm drowning!”

Suffice to say, he wasn't going to be relaxed tonight.

The water was warm.

And so was the hand that you wish you held onto as you dangled your arm on the ledge of the tub, reaching out to Chrome, who sat on the floor. You wanted something - but the golden boy wouldn't budge.

“Join meee,” you pouted, “don't you see I am a lonely girl sitting here so lonely?”

The light of the bathroom casts a glow over Chrome's frame. The sound of the water splashing around, paired with his humming, sends your mind in a close lullaby, you fear you'll only fall asleep at this rate.

“I see you well, Commandant.” He shook his head, “however, I will stay here.”

“Mean.” Huffing, you sunk to the comforts of the bubbling water, feigning annoyance to him “At least I could wash your hair...you said you'd allow me to see you with your hair down...”

“Commandant,” it's a surprise how Chrome could still hold his composure, voice calm and cool, “you are drunk. You are also very dirty, so it's best you wash up now and get dressed in something warm.”

“I'm not drunk!” Exasperatedly raising your hands, you glared at Chrome, “and I can't wash my hair...”

You look at him expectantly, to which he stares back with curiosity. Pointing to your wet hair, you whispered. “I always wondered what it's like to have my hair washed.”

“And?”

“Will you...wash my hair, please, Chrome?”

Crossing his arms, he thinks for a moment. “Will you promise not to do anything stupid?”

“No.”

As he scoots closer to you, you reeled back. Chrome mistook it as something else, when he sees the look on your face.

“...don't tell me you are planning to wash my hair in that.”

“Pardon?”

“Strip!” you pouted, “I get fussy when someone isn't touching me.”

In an instant, you see Chrome's cheeks tint a shade of pink. “Commandant, that sounded...”

“Hurry up,” you yawned, scooting a little closer to the faucet on your legs, “I won't look.”

True to your word, you look elsewhere but wherever Chrome was. Raising your hands high to your face (look how pruned they are, the longer you stay), before the shuffling of clothes and the sound of cautiousness tiptoes its way into the water, beside you. From your peripheral vision, you see two hands reach out to hold your open hands — have these hands looked so lonely until Chrome came?

“Look at you,” he huffs, fingers caressing the pad of your pruned fingers, “you should have been faster.”

You find comfort in this cramped space — the warm water that you're doused in, a familiar body close to yours, a heat that you never realized you've been craving all this time. You crawl; on Chrome's legs, your scent intertwined with the smell of lavender, you hope it rubs on the man beside you. Unknowingly, you crawled further, until your back hits the sturdy structure of Chrome's physique, leaning back to curl up in his chest.

“Can we stay like this?” the words slipped past your mouth, faster than you could have noticed. Without a word, his hands drifted to the expanse of your shoulders, your arms, your clavicle.

His hands rest there, as your body relaxes in his embrace. The subtle, erratic beating of his heart is there, it's not a surprise when yours mirrored his. And you smell the hint of vanilla on his skin, forgetting that he's humanoid in these very small moments. Yet, you breathe into it, the smell lulling you to sleep faster.

“If you want to,” he mutters, “I thought you wanted to rest.”

“I do, but I feel comfortable when there's someone else.”

The quiet snap of the shampoo bottle opens. Along the way, he places his hands over your head, gently massaging the tips of your hair to make the shampoo bubble, to your scalp. Gentle, soft as he held you like this. The way he pours the water over your head, careful enough to not let it reach your eyes. You must smell like lavender now; the scent already sinking into your skin, like how Chrome's warmth was seeping onto your cold ones. His touch felt unreal, it makes you want the world to freeze for a moment and only behold this scenario for a long, long time.

“Commandant,” even his voice was a whisper, movements slowing to a stop, a telltale sign that he's done, and a little emotion was hanging on your chest - annoyance - “finish up washing now. Your hair is done.”

A dissatisfied grunt escaped your lips. Sitting up straight, you turned to him, hands outstretched. “Let me wash your hair too.”

Slightly looking down from your chest, his eyes shot up to meet yours, the blush that was on his cheeks already invading his ears. “N-No. This bath is only for you, Commandant.”

“Pleaseeee,” you dawdled, brushing away the bangs that covered his face, “I want to help you.”

Although hesitant, he lets you anyway; you, crawling to straddle his thighs, reaching out for the shampoo on your right. His eyes were carefully trailing your movement, which made you shrink under his grasp, but you never minded (after all, the both of you are naked in front of each other, what else was the difference?). You mimicked his movements: massaging the scalp, entirely focused on how you moved your hands on him.

“You're so pretty, Chrome...”

“Huh...?”

“I'm drunk but you're still pretty.” you giggled, booping his nose, “in the morning, when I'm sober, I know you'll be prettier.”

You thread your hands into his hair now, forgetting that bubbles should come out, but you're too focused on everything around you, drowsiness coming to catch you.

“Your hair,” you mumbled, aware of his hands placed on your waist, “...it feels really soft.”

“Does it?” He chuckled, eyes closing, “I'm glad you think so, Commandant.”

Commandant. A title you've always worn, but the way he called you that, a gnawing feeling crammed in your chest — with that pretty mouth of his, a stray thought made you think: what would it be like if he were to say your name?

“You never call me by my name.”

Turquoise irises locked with yours. Unable to pull away, mesmerized by the magnitude it beheld as you stared at each other — you wanted to speak, but Chrome beats you to it.

“I- I never thought I'm allowed to say it.” Looking away, the flush you've seen earlier came back and dusted his cheeks, “we never established it before.”

“Call me by my name then, Chrome.”

You wonder how your name would sound when it leaves his lips. You wonder, if the sound of your heartbeat reverberates if speaks, if he calls you in a name hidden behind your title — and for a moment, you've realized.

“[Y/N],” it is quiet, a soft tone calling for your name, “[Y/N],”

All you could do is close your eyes. Your mind is racing. The sound of two people, breathing in the silence, in the warmth of another's presence. The bubbles are now dissolving in your fingers and in his hair, you're certain the ones on your head are gone too. Were you still drunk, or had the intensity of your feelings reached its threshold? It made your mind spin, and your fingers tremble. What was going on?

“Did that sound weird?” You opened your eyes to find Chrome's worried gaze. Still realizing the situation you're both in - and yet you were both comfortable now - you opened your mouth, only to close it.

You realized you've always liked Chrome all this time.

And the way he said your name is far from what you've imagined. You breathe in once more at his appearance: disheveled hair coated in shampoo, flushed cheeks in contrast to his pale complexion, doe-eyed in the shade of the light. Of course, you had to fall for this man. And it made your heart ache - alcohol or the touches alone? Who knows.

“No.” You quietly spoke, looking away, hiding the blush on your cheeks, “I...want to get out now.”

Chrome doesn't say a word. Instead, he stood up and left you there - confused, in a daze. When he comes back, a pair of clothes were on his arms.

“Can you stand, co...I mean, [Y/N]?”

“Thank you for the clothes.”

You spoke by the time you re-entered his room, the oversized shirt hanging loosely on your body. You looked at your appearance in the mirror twice before leaving the room, where you'd deemed it was good enough, however; judging by the way Chrome was staring at you intensely, head to toe, you couldn't help but wonder - is something wrong?

Chrome must have changed the sheets first, the shade of blue occupying the space on the bed. He now stood behind a smaller stool, a hair dryer in hand. You awkwardly stood, gesturing to the sight behind you: “I promise I'll repay you back when I get back.”

“The shirt,” He looks away for a moment, before clearing his throat, “it looks...good on you.”

You looked down — the oversized white shirt with the print fading away reaching down your thighs, just above your knees. At least, you were wearing something to combat the cold, yet your back catches the wetness of your hair, which made your temperature drop further. Noticing this, Chrome motions you to sit on the stool.

You are compliant with his wishes. He starts to turn the hair dryer on, before carefully handling your hair. In front of you was a tall mirror, which must have been Chrome's height. As he gently starts to dry your hair, you take in your surroundings - it's your first time in Chrome's room. As they say, the bedroom reflects its owner; tidy, neat, and everything in place. Various books with small print on the spine you couldn't make out on the shelves, the Queen-sized bed in the middle of the room. A perfectly neat study table with a few papers here and there near the dresser of the bed. It brings you to shame, how cleanly Chrome sets up his room which is far different from yours.

It reflects; your senses in a daze as you feel Chrome weaving through your locks, attentive to how his turquoise irises are on his masterpiece. Your eyes look up at his face once more.

“You also look good with your hair down.”

His attention flickers back to you. It's true - he looks more human this way, hair framing his face. Blinking slowly, he sheepishly laughs. “Ah, I always have my hair down after a shower. Do I look weird?”

“No.” You admit, “you look handsome still.”

Another wave of silence washes over. You realize you're more sober this way, the guilt of not talking too much gnawing on the back of your throat. But you are thankful, Chrome takes the opportunity.

“You are wearing my shirt that the F.O.S. gave,” humming, he brushes away the hair on your back, heat radiating off on your back, “they gave it shortly after graduation. I took it before father could notice.”

The hair dryer shuts off. He places it on the dresser, eyes still on your now-dried hair. You asked, “does your father not want you wearing these things?”

“He thinks it's useless. After all, medals and honor are the only valuable things the college would give to you.”

“But I see that it seems well-used,” you smell the cologne Chrome uses every day, “like you've always worn it.”

His hand is on your shoulder, tracing the outline. “Shortly after my Construct surgery, I always wore this. Anywhere as long as my father wouldn't see.”

A thought where Chrome wears the shirt comes to mind, in bed, clutching the fabric. Holding a handful and raising it to your nose, you spoke, “is there a reason?”

But he only sighs. “I am a Construct.” He looks up to meet your eyes in the mirror, “I am made for war. I threw away my humanity a long time ago.”

Those words tugged a hidden emotion in you. Spinning to meet his figure, you craned your neck just so you can properly look at him. Words are bubbling in your mouth, but it comes out dry.

Yet, you try anyway. “It's true that you're made for war, but you shouldn't be denied of these...”

“It's alright, co...[Y/N].” The call of your name sends your heart into somersaults, “I've learned it the hard way. There is no need for me to feel that way anymore.”

“Besides,” he added, as he got on one knee, smiling, “it's time for you to take a nap. It's past 2 am now. I wouldn't want my Commandant to be sleep deprived, yes?”

“I-” you looked at Chrome, you don't pretend you didn't mishear his words. Looking at his irises, you took a deep breath.

“The first time I saw Chrome,” you began, “I always thought you were attractive.”

That caught his attention. Tilting his head with an eyebrow raised, he curiously asked, “I'm sorry?”

“I wondered why a human like me was roaming around the city ruins that day.” You fidgeted with the hem of your clothes, “But then, I saw your inver-device.”

Ah, this memory. Chrome remembers it fondly. In the heat of dispute, where Lee had been injured badly, he doesn't remember if it was the situation at hand or the way the sunlight shone down on you that day - either way, he always thought it was something for that moment.

“It didn't change one bit of my impression of you.” You take a deep breath, “I think...it became something else.”

Your heart beats chaotically. You're sure it's the alcohol, but you're also aware that it's your feelings shaping at this very moment. Your hands tremble with want - to hold Chrome, to hold his hand.

“Something else?”

“I don't see you as a Construct, Chrome,” you whispered, reaching out to touch his chin, eyes trailing where your finger touched, “I see you more than that.”

You're aware; his gaze on you, as his own fingers shake as they touched yours. Such feelings have echoed in your mind, and you are afraid they wouldn't go away unless you tell them upfront. Are you scared to be rejected? Too bad, you're not; let the alcohol drain all your fears tonight.

“I don't want you to keep calling me 'Commandant'. I don't like it when you see me as someone from F.O.S., but I like it when you touch me, or when you're close to me-”

His hand is holding yours now. Firm, gentle. He's in front of you, and you swore you could see the future reflect in his irises. It's warm, the way he grasped your hand, fingertips touching his lips. His eyes are closed - a single kiss on every finger, mouth muttering some kind of prayer.

“[Y/N],” he whispers on your fingers, gazing at you with an expression you've never seen him make before.

Loving. Adoration. Something along those lines. It claws on your stomach, inching up to the top, that if you opened your mouth you would regret.

“When I saw you at that time, I didn't know what to think. I remember thinking: would you only be another soldier I will see on the battlefield, regardless if dead or alive?”

“Am I the former?”

“A part of me thought so. But...”

He pauses, before taking your hand to his chest, a strong vibration echoing there. Your heart feels the same, it wishes to free itself from the cages of your ribcage and into whatever was in the middle of the both of you.

“If I were to lose you, I...wouldn't know what I'll do.”

Heaviness weaves in your chest. You wrap your arms around his neck for support, blissfully unaware of the distance left between your lips. “Chrome,”

“[Y/N], I cannot...”

“I like you, Chrome.” It is a genuine confession. You never lied. “I like you too much, that I feel like my heart can't handle it if you disappear on me, too.”

A confession that brought tears to your eyes. “I want to run away with Chrome. I don't want to be away from you.”

“I'm not going away.” He took you by the waist, propping you on his thighs, “I'm here.”

“Meeting you...being here with you...it feels enchanting.” You closed your eyes, blindingly touching wherever your hands meet, “Please don't be in love with someone else...”

Chrome feels like it's the first time for him to recognize the ability to love. The passion for studying, living in the moment where examinations take place, keeping everything orderly — it has always been how he always lived. Yet, for the first time — someone was here in his room, in his touch, in this space. It makes him greedy; it makes him wild.

“[Y/N],” his hands cup your cheek, nuzzling your cheek, “I feel the same way. I like you - I adore you. Every glory I will bring to you, it will be all for you.”

That confession triggered something inside of you - to bridge the gap between the both of you. Leaning forward, the urge to slam your lips to him right there and then grows fervently. However, a hand stops your advances. Pulling back, you are met with a blushing Chrome, looking at you in awe.

“Comman- I mean, [Y/N], as much as I want to kiss you...I cannot. I can't kiss you when you are still drunk.”

“But I want to, let me show you how much I like you.”

His hand easily slips under your shirt, warm ones grasping your hips, rubbing circles around it, “In the morning. When you are sober, when you are about to make better judgement. I will let you do whatever you want.”

A mischievous smile graced your lips. “Anything?”

The blush on his face became a darker shade. Shyly nodding, “Yes, anything.”

He eases into his arms. Lifting you up and carrying you to bed, a thought crosses your mind — you, in a long white gown, and him, in a silver tuxedo. You see him in the lights of the room, illuminated in this dark evening, his smile sending ripples of your heart into motion. You see him this way, your hand carrying a bouquet of flowers that you both love, your fingers intertwined with a ring of promise. In your thoughts he carries you like this, and you swore it felt familiar; one day, you wish. You would have to tell him in the morning.

But for now, the alcohol hits you harder more than ever, drowsiness threatening to shut your eyes. As you felt yourself dip into the mattress - his bed - you wish you could stay with him, the lingering warmth on your skin now fading as you feel him pull away. But your mouth is a jumbled mess, only opting for the fatigue to succumb to you. So, you use your hand, grasping whatever you could reach - his shirt, his hand, his arm.

“Don't go.” You beg, voice laced with grogginess and want, “won't you stay here?”

“I will be sitting here next to you. Don't worry, I'm not going away.”

“No,” your voice sounds like you're pleading now, “don't go, stay beside me. I want you to be beside me when I wake up.”

“[Y/N]...”

“Stay with me, Chrome.”

With a sigh, you feel the space beside you dip. The shuffling of sheets, the smell of lavender invading your weary senses. At last, warm hands enclose yours, before placing them close to his lips, one last kiss before darkness consumed your senses.

“Goodnight, [Y/N],” you knew he'd tell you that, “I will see you in the morning.”

Chrome doesn't see you in the morning.

When sunlight slipped through the windows, he woke up to an empty space beside him. Disappointment comes knocking on his door, calling out that he was only dreaming for something unreal, something that only humans would indulge in. Although the sheets prove that someone else was here with him last night, he doesn't dwell on that slipping hope. Instead, disappointment and frustration, paired with despondency, makes a home inside his chest and his M.I.N.D.

No longer interested in ruminating on the mattress, he drags himself out of bed. However, the robots that usually greet him aren't around still. But the floors and the walls on the rooms he passed are cleaner than what he saw last night.

Probably elsewhere. Probably at the garden.

But the glass door to the garden shows no signs of robots, at least where his sight can reach. No robots cutting grass or cleaning the pool. At times like these, they should've been around. Where were they?

A sound of an R5 cleaning robot chimes in nearby. Chrome follows the sound, and the sight isn't something he was expecting.

“You did well,” your voice feels like a cloud, floating amongst the sea of beeping robots, “thank you for your help.”

Your back faces Chrome. Crouching in front of a faceless R5 cleaning robot, you gently patted its "head", small giggles on your lips.

“You're a good robot, aren't you,” the sound of beeping seemingly mirroring an appreciative noise, “you're a very good robot.”

A sizzle comes out of the oven, to which you jump to your feet, scrambling to reach the stove. “Ah, it's getting burned!”

Chrome couldn't help but admire you; the way you move, your interactions with the robots although lifeless, and your cautiousness seemed to boost his adoration for you. It must have been his M.I.N.D., but the sunlight on your toes, his shirt that fits you perfectly despite being too big for you, and the smile as you tasted whatever you were cooking — it hits him harder. The want, the like, the adoration for someone he could never think he'd fall for. The feeling that his chest had earlier disappeared; only warmth began to repair its fractured roots.

“Chrome?” Your quiet voice called out, the beep of the robot chiming in, “you're awake.”

“And you're here.”

Is this what pining feels like? An unspoken feeling that settles deep between the distances of the two of you. He knows he shouldn't hope, when a night drowned in alcohol remembers nothing. Yet, the way your eyes seem to tell him something, he hopes to cling onto whatever was left in his pride.

“Good morning,” he spoke, aware of his morning voice now, “I apologize that you had to be the one to cook.”

“N-no, it's alright! The robots mostly did the work. I merely supported them.”

“Still,” he slowly approached you, timid footsteps leading to you, “the fact that you treat them as if they're human too speaks a lot.”

“It's even a surprise that they show no hostility to you. They are trained to fend off those who are unfamiliar in the household.”

“Commandant [Y/N] is welcomed.” the robot from earlier chirped, “helped us with housework.”

“Mr. Smith also invited me here once in a while to talk about politics.” You shrugged, opting to pat the robot once more, “I just did a favor for them.”

You nodded to it, to which it purrs in your touch. Satisfied, it happily trots away, probably deciding to work elsewhere.

Another silence. You've decided to go back and finish cooking the food, but the fire had long been doused (probably from the advancement of this stove?). Chrome wants to talk, yet no words could be formulated in his head. After the agonizing long silence, you took a deep breath and exhaled loudly.

“I remember what happened last night.”

Chrome freezes. He looks up to meet your guilty eyes looking elsewhere. “You do?”

“I...am regretful that I puked on you. That's why I decided to clean up here as an exchange.”

Ah, so you don't remember what happened afterwards. Chrome's heart sinks, before noticing you looking away, and a creeping blush on your cheeks.

“I...also remember that I asked you to take a bath with me.”

Memories of last night came crashing over his M.I.N.D. The garden, the bed, the bathtub, the hair dryer, and your skin — all a mixture of things that only makes him go haywire. His blush mirrors yours; that means one more thing.

“I also remember telling you how I feel.” You began, “and I...”

The sinker comes. And Chrome's heartbeat isn't sure now. But you - you approached him, eyes down, figure covered, but reaching out to him. With shallow breaths, you raised your hand to his chest, before looking up. And there - your eyes meet his. Same innocent, shimmering eyes looking at him with vigor, with enchantment; he forgets how to breathe.

“I like you, Chrome.”

You've said it once more. Sober, genuine, and true. And it breaks Chrome's heart into pieces, folded and mashed into dough, before it forms in the shape of a heart. You've set the oven now; his feelings are ready to be baked, ready to be eaten - and he wants you. No, he needs you to be the one to take it.

“I still like you, even when I'm drunk or sober. I want to be with you all the time. I want you, Chrome. I want you to be part of the future that I am building.”

Wordlessly, he captures your hips and pulls you close, him leaning down just so the proximity knows no bounds. He feels your breath ghost his lips, your heartbeat in his ribcage - it beats, and beats, and beats so loudly he forgets you're in the kitchen at daylight; in a house he's grown up with no love, but he's here now. Creating a love that no Smith can forge.

“A concrete object made of materials and information, whose borders are continuously constructed and reconstructed,” said the definition for 'Smith'. He could live in that definition forever, but what about Chrome?

“I am forging a new one.” He whispers, “I am...bridging the new future with you.”

Your eyes are shining, and there he knew-

“I like you, too, [Y/N].”

If only bodies were capable of seeing what's happening underneath, a cadenza ringing in Chrome's heart, beating furiously for you, only you. You smiled, a mischievous gaze written across your face.

“Does the offer about me doing anything I want when I'm sober still stand?”

He smiles back. “Of course.”

“I want to kiss you.”

Tiptoeing to reach Chrome's height, you craned your neck and tugged his shoulder. But Chrome is kind; he hoists you up by the hips, capturing your lips in an instant.

Sweet is a word to describe the first kiss Chrome shared with someone in his life. Forget the war, forget that you're on the kitchen island; it's only two lovers baring their adoration for one another, sharing a kiss blessed in daylight. It's warm, it's soft, it's needy - the way you both melt into each other, how you wrapped your arms around his neck, or how his hands are holding you up. Enchanted, Chrome's M.I.N.D. echoes, it's really enchanting.

Satiated, you both pull away, breathless, as your foreheads touch. He doesn't let you go, though. You (unfortunately) do, when the other kitchen door opens, a parade of little robots bursting through the door.

You cheer as the little robots go through the surprise: a small banner written "Happy Birthday!" hastily, and the cake you baked earlier with the robots. Chrome looks at you confused, before noticing what the parade had brought.

“How-”

“Happy birthday, Chrome,” You beamed, hands cupping his cheeks, “you deserve the celebration.”

“Thank you.” He whispers on your chin, leaving little kisses there, “I really appreciate this...I appreciate you.”

“You should enjoy today.” You winked, “my birthday present to you is for later.”

“Later?”

You squeezed his arm. He blushes. “Yes, later.”

Chrome is thankful his heart doesn't need to somersault out of his chest now. At least, until later.

HAPPY LATE ACTIVATION DAY CHROME!!!!!! please like, reblog, share, comment down on this post! don't copy and plagiarize my work!!

[cloudyswritings]

Moth Lore: Of Blinding Light, and Malignant Flame

Alright y’all, welcome to some more Hollow knight speculative biology/lore crafting!

Slumber:

Radi and Grimm actually started out as one unified god of the dreaming realm. This god-Slumber- was a being more on par with Unn at her prime(check out my thoughts on the best slug, they’re somewhere probably) and was the functional opposite to the void. This was true both in scope, and in behavior.

notably other gods we see in canon still make use of essence and dreams(ie white palace, and godhome to and extent). All essence and the dreams of both mortals and gods alike used to fall under Slumbers ponderous gaze

Thematically Slumber opposed the void in a couple of ways. First it was bright, among the brightest of the first generation of bright gods even. Second instead of devouring ideas, people, and gods that entered it, it instead preserved them as sort of echoes(this is how the radiance clung on) functionally these echoes appear as ghosts but they’re really more like imprints on the dreaming realm. In some places these imprints punch through to the waking world, becoming wounds and sorta spilling essence out(Slumbers blood, though I think it’s probably more like how crinoids use sea water as blood basically)

Slumber, if it ever bothered to take a form, would be some sort of grub or large caterpillar(lifeblood creature?????)

It really was essentially the foil and other half to the void and so despite the differences between the two they also operated similarly, with neither really taking physical form or engaging in direct battle with one another, if anything their “fight” looked a lot like one giant chess game played over time with gods and mortals servings as the pieces. The end goal was seemingly over who could get the most gods and mortals to fall into their realm/be absorbed by them. So basically politics and a popularity contest.

Going back to the “wounds” that sometimes happen, ie dreamnail and all it’s shit with ghosts, these only began occurring with the birth of the Radiance, and represent the weakening of the borders between the dreaming and physical worlds.

See what happened is that over time “lighter” dreams sorta moved towards the outer edges of the dreaming/Slumber, and the “denser/heavier” ones got pushed towards the center, and eventually congealed into the nightmare heart.

Interestingly this makes Grimm the older sibling(kinda the heart and Grimm are very much not the same thing)

Anyway all of lighter dreams eventually accumulated into the Radiance, when she was born Slumber officially stopped existing as one deity, before her birth it just had a semi independent heart.

You’ll note both of their births parallel stars with Radiance effectively having been born from a nebula and Grim mimicking an early born red dwarf star or a small black hole.

they both parallel/represent a binary star system.

After they come into existence Slumber ceases existing, but dreams and nightmares continue to share a realm for a while.

Radiance

She has far broader range of powers compared to the heart and Grimm, this is because of how she was formed. She’s made of a much larger variety of dream/essence compared to Grimm, and came into being from that larger distribution condensing.

Starts the fight with the Heart that eventually ripped the two realms apart because it actually had/has a stronger hold on those entering its realm and had begun to infringe on hers by sheer spiritual gravity/mass accumulation.

Basically it was getting too big and she also really cared for her dreamers back then, though this eventually warped into possessiveness in the lead up to the fight.

She doesn’t actually care about nightmares though, like she doesn’t find them distasteful until after the spilt.

The battle between her and the Heart took place entirely in the dreaming and was really less of a violent but brief struggle and more of a cruel, protracted, and deliberate war between the two where each one attempted to twist and distort the nightmares and dreams of mortals, the goal being to turn dreams into nightmares and vice versa in a way the other wouldn’t notice, essentially they were trying to poison or override eachother.

Radiance largely won this, just due to the width of her power when compared to the Hearts, that said the Heart become far far more insidious as a result of this.

the final excision of the Heart came when the Radiance had managed to subvert most of its agents, both in the mortal and dreaming world. She essentially gave the Heart the choice of being subsumed or fleeing and it, being much wiser, fled.

Radiance uses the techniques she learned during this war to create the infection.

PK reminds her of the heart, which is one of the reasons she really hates him.

Radiance thinks the war is over, the Heart very much disagrees, and likely wins in the long run. This scheming is actually why Grimm befriends/allows Ghost to summon them, it clues ghost in to other possible alternatives to taking THKs place, eventually leading to the void consuming Radiance.

Also Radi literally doesn’t have a heart, like her body is entirety missing one. This isn’t a huge deal for her, especially because she’s the goddess of dreams so like, runs on dream logic basically. In general most gods could survive something as fatal as literally cutting out their own heart, but not with as much ease as she did.

She isn’t aware if how it’s hurt her conceptually though.

The Heart may have been responsible for terror and all manner of horrors, but it was only out of those horrors that growth and compassion could spring. Over time it’s absence causes her to grow callous and her realm to grow stagnant

see the Heart may only mostly be a metaphorical heart, but it also was responsible for basically cycling and refreshing dreams, dreams that had gotten too old/stale were drawn into the Heart, becoming nightmares, and then after a time returned to being dreams, albeit completely unrecognizable.

Basically it did what hearts do, pump shit, and without it Radiance is literally a corpse and doesn’t even know it because she’s so disconnected.

Grimm

Grimm himself is one of the few bugs that was left over from the war between the Heart and Radiance, he was sort of a high priest and advisor to the heart. It was at his advice that the Heart fled, and to honor him and keep the Heart(which was grievously injured) alive they settled on the symbiosis we see in game.

The ritual is basically the divine version of both a dialysis machine, and iron lung, and a pace maker.

it allows the heart to survive outside of its body(which is now Radiance) and continue to perform and use abilities most whole deities are capable of.

Needless to say it’s an agonizing form of existence, but as the millennia pass it gets more and more bearable, it may even be possible for it to grow its own “body” for a lack of better terms if it were to gain enough followers.

Due to the nature of the Heart as well as Grimms natural curiosity, members of the troupe tend to be cycled through rather frequently. They get picked up, offered the chance to forget their troubles(whatever they may be) by wearing the mask of the troupe. By the time they’ve completely forgotten who they were they either try to leave the troupe and become a refreshed version of themselves(like Nymm) who aren’t burdened by their past, or they choose to stay and let themselves dissolve, becoming one of the troupes specters and fusing with the heart itself. Essentially they’re something between blood cells and stem cells that the heart is using to rebuild.

Meanwhile Grimm is just kinda chilling and also happy to be traveling the world and seeing new and beautiful sights.

this sorta parallels how the heart feels, it misses the beauty of dreams, but it also found beauty in twisting them into nightmares as well so who knows.

In hindsight this post was way more lore than I intended it to be, so I’ll be making a more biology focused one in a bit, it’s kinda just my headcanon/context needed for the next post.

[darkcrowprincess]

my love for the star wars prequels is probably why I'm such a big Luke Castellan defender and lukercy shipper. They are basically Anakin and Padme. And the gods basically did exactly to Luke and Percy what the Jedi and Palpatine did to Anakin and Padme. They both made a weapon and the weapon had a psychotic break. Both the jedi and camp half-blood and camp jupiter are cults! They use Padme and Percy as chess pieces to do with as they please.

(Don't like don't read. Post hate and I'll block you)

[homestuckreplay]

she seems like a pretty regular girl to me!

(page 651-663)

9/17/2009 Wheel Spin: Captchalogue Lore Verdict: ????????

9/18/2009 Wheel Spin: Parent Bad :( Verdict: Well I’d take Dad over Big Imp any day and I think John would agree.

9/19/2009 Wheel Spin: being silly :3c Verdict: John, Mid-Ogre Ambush: 'haha where are my trick handcuffs?'

3 days’ worth of pages here because work has been eating me alive and time to write about Homestuck has been tragically limited. I will keep this so so short and focus only on what’s really important.

Currently, John is facing down two adversaries. One is the Crude Ogres, the physical challenge, and the other is GG, the mental challenge. I am delighted to learn that these higher level enemies are called ogres so that I can stop referring to them as Big Imp.

‘Hanging from the tree is your TIRE SWING. In a kid's yard, a tree without a tire swing is like a proper gentleman without a monocle. That is to say, HE CAN HARDLY BE CONSIDERED A TERRIBLY PROPER GENTLEMAN AT ALL.’ This is from page 27 (!!) and now on page 663, one of the ogres has stolen the swing and equipped tireswingkind. I guess any semblance of this still being John’s yard and John’s house is gone. The other ogre has taken Sassacre’s, while the imps have plundered the magic chest. I guess I’m thinking about how everything in John’s home that means something to him is now being used to hurt him, how he doesn’t get a place of respite or even a safe place to keep his possessions, which only highlights the need for the captchalogue system – for John and as a part of the story.

I’m so excited about Dark Kingdom Politics based on how the small imps are scared of the big imps. Thinking of them as chess pieces, it would not be correct to say that pawns are scared of rooks and bishops, as in chess no piece can threaten another piece of the same color. But seeing them as soldiers from a ‘kingdom entrenched in darkness’ (p.424) engaged in a war against the light, this fear does make sense, suggesting a more complex social order and NPCs with an inner life and a motivation beyond ‘grab object and attack.’

With that in mind, ‘You stop being the imp because that was stupid’ (p.657) is too hasty, I think that command giver was onto something. Your name is PAWN #413. As was previously mentioned you are AN IMP. A number of your SIBLINGS are scattered around this house. You have a variety of INTERESTS. You have a passion for SILLY HATS. etc. I am being silly but I really would like to get their perspective, especially if it complicates the binary of light and darkness in ways that might affect John’s choices further in the game.

But the real star of these ogre pages is the visuals. The ogres are comically big, to the point where it’s hard to get a scale of how big in comparison to John. Seeing John’s house from a bunch of different vantage points, and then seeing a single toe curling in through the window or a hand slamming down from the roof as imps react in terror. I really enjoy quickly flicking through all these different angles of the house. I think this section would be cool as an animation too, like a faster paced version of the one on page 250 – I don’t know which version I’d like better but it’d be fun to compare.

The Sweet Bro & Hella Jeff on page 663 suggests we’ll cut back to Dave now, who, like John, is preparing for a dangerous rooftop encounter. Goodbye for now John <3

On page 651 we are treated to the LONG AWAITED GARDENGNOSTIC REVEAL!!!! We just get her silhouette (and pronouns, on the next page) so while I think the spikes on her head are just messy hair, it could also be a fun hat. This is a low bar to clear I’ll admit, but so much media has a lot more male characters than female, so I do appreciate Homestuck keeping things more balanced among the leads.

John’s dreams are represented in clouds. The two other places we’ve seen clouds are above John’s house before he was transported to the Medium (for example, p.82) and surrounding Skaia as it is described by Nannasprite (p.422-423). So it’s kind of like John is able to see all the way to Skaia in his dreams, and he sees his dad, a birthday cake, a box of Gushers, a harlequin emblem, Slimer, Harry Anderson, and finally his friend gardenGnostic. We then get a quick flash through the Sburb installation screen, a pumpkin, and a spirograph, as John suddenly wakes. Seeing the installation screen is especially wild – it’s like Sburb is reloading in his mind as he wakes.

Getting the GG sighting almost felt like a ‘be careful what you wish for’ moment, because John’s conversation with her on page 652 is the most frustrating thing I’ve ever read. If someone tried to message me like this I would block them. In past conversations GG has seemed mysterious, now she’s just obnoxious, and I don’t know if she’s reacting to John saying she ‘seems like a pretty regular girl’ and is trying to prove him wrong, or if there’s another reason.

For example, there are definite inconsistencies in how she talks about the meteor that might have been near her house, and possibly other things too. In the first Pesterlog we see between GG and John (p.169) she says ‘GG: there was a loud noise outside my house!! GG: it sounded like an explosion!!!!’ and also asks John what Sburb is, and if he got her package. On page 293, GG reports back and says that she ‘went to investigate the explosion’ and confirms that it was a meteor, describing it as ‘pretty big’ while not being allowed to get too close.

Then things start getting weird. On page 382, GG tells Dave about her present for John, saying that ‘GG: he will not open it GG: he will lose it!!!’ Based on timezones this conversation takes place 49 minutes before the earlier one with John. On page 442, GG gives Rose the tip about Sburb’s ability to resurrect Jaspers the cat, although does not mention Sburb by name.

Both of these stand out, but have plausible explanations. But what really tests the limits of possibility is this new conversation on page 652, in which GG says she ‘was confused’ about the meteor, ‘fell asleep for a while’ and ‘lost track of time’, that the meteor is ‘hard to explain’ but she ‘know[s] what it is now’ and strangest of all, ‘and now i know everythings going to be ok!!!’

????????

So originally I was wondering if GG might be two people, twins perhaps, one who has a psychic connection with a god or other powerful entity and one who doesn’t. That doesn’t explain how an explosion (that could be confused for a meteor) could prophesize good fortune, though. What might explain it is a UFO crash, manned by aliens who were somehow able to share some knowledge with GG. Given John’s movies, it is about time we got some aliens in this story. Honestly I’m pretty lost and don’t have a solid theory that explains everything even after sitting on it for a few days, but Rose and Dave are right. There’s something weird going on with this girl.

[hollowfyshunsuikubo]

Personal AOT HCs

AN: My best friend started me on this anime purely because they thought I’d like Erwin. They were right of course but the lore elements are cool too. (Please take this peace offering before my very long Bleach x reader ily)

Featuring: As many as I can fit.

Contains: NSFW, Crack, fluff, a lil angst

MINORS DNI I WILL CONTACT YOUR PARENTS.

Hange can sleep anywhere. Like. Anywhere. Moblit has found her sleeping in/on: tables, roofs, a horse, a wild horse, a tree, in a hole, on the stairs, upside down from her ODM gear, and once in Levi’s office.

Onyankapon tries so hard to be a Cool Uncle but ends up coming off like a Weed Fuckboy Chill Cousin. He's also really good at chess.

Erwin liked to adopt little stray cats. HQ was always full of them- little kittens, Mama cats, grumpy old street veterans with ear nicks and scars. He loves them hard enough for them to miss him when he's gone.

Levi hated the cats but sometimes pet them. In his grief after Erwin died he sent them all away to good homes. A tiny little kitten remained hidden in Erwins old room and ate scraps for two months before Levi found it. He kept that single one. It has blue eyes.

Sasha has an incredibly high metabolism, which is why she eats so much. She needs protein and carbs constantly. If she got enough, she'd be twice as strong and Reiner and would benchpress Mike for fun.

Connie shaved his head until some girl mentioned he'd look hot with soft curls. THEN he started growing it out a little.

Jean is so devoted to Mikasa he doesn't sleep with anyone else. Well, there was that really weird night with that guy, but that doesn't count... right.

Eren is both so homophobic and so ally it's hard to tell that he's bisexual.

Armin has the biggest library. Erwin, for some random reason, left him all his books. Levi didn't contest that. In some books, Erwin even left little annotations- speaking even though he is gone. Armin flips through the pages often, wondering if the Commander he didn't know so well would have ever seen him as a son, if he had lived.

Yelena doesn't know who's right or wrong, a lot of the time. She agrees with Eren, people should pay. But the lives that will be lost... is war really worth it? She sits up at night with a drink and a cigarette glaring at the moon, wondering if her ideals are placed in the wrong people. But never once does she defect or speak out.

I'd like to think in their vulnerable moments, Mikasa and Annie sneak out together after the Rumbling. They sit under the stars and train for a little. They end up covered in bruises. Annie admits she's sorry. Mikasa admits she is too. They keep fighting, because what else is there now?

Historia cares for her child, but can't look at her daughter. She sees to much of what she wished she had, too much of a life she was denied. She loves her little daughter, but can't help but resent her too. Historia is scared she'll end up like her mother, and pushes all of it down.

Before he died, Beretoldt thought about how his life was going to save another person's life, but in the back of his mind he wished he could see his parents one last time. He was, after all, only a child.

Reiner went to therapy, once. He cried and cried and cried. He hasn't gone back, but his mind feels better. He can finally sit down and put his life into reasonable order. He misses Porco, oddly enough. He misses being told the truth and seen as just a man.

Annie misses the feeling of her Titan. If you asked her, she'd say it's like a puzzle piece is missing, a warm embrace ripped from her. Her crystal was the last thing from her Titan that felt like a home. She'd say it's like missing the skin of your back because you peeled it off. She'd say it's a longing. But she doesn't talk, not often now.

When Eren and Mikasa fucked off to Switzerland, they had a ball of a time. Mikasa got really good at cooking, Eren finally learned to chill the fuck out, and of course: geese. Lots of geese.

Floch, weirdly enough, unlike Jean, has a lot of sexual experience. The girls he sleeps with says he's a damnable bastard in person, but actually kind of sweet in bed. Sure he's rough but he makes sure they like it. He has four bastard children and he's very, very proud.

Sasha and Connie would sometimes just fight with long sticks. Hey Siri, play "Duel of The Fates" I should write for Star Wars they got really good at it.

Eren and Floch had a one night stand. Yelena walked in on them halfway through and laughed so hard they stopped. It's never happened again, but Yelana likes to hint at it.

Zeke often just fucking. Sits there. He'll just be brooding and he'll zone back in and what the fuck it's been three hours why didn't anyone tell me. He likes his beard as well, he doesn't like to shave it because he's got a bit of a baby face, and he even has a comb specifically for grooming it. He gets bitches too. He's a big fan of pussy eating btw. Really, really big.

Historia knows what a strap is. No she will not tell anyone but they KNOW it was Ymir. A bad influence even after her goddamn death.

Gabi wakes up screaming some nights, begging for it to stop, begging to be able to go back, to not do what she did. Falco tries to comfort her, but some nights, all she can say is "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry Sasha." Connie, sometimes, hears this. He gets... Angry. And sad too, knowing that Gabi was just a kid, indoctrinated and brainwashed, and that her regrets equal his own.