#when people evolved in their own made little bubble and people were free to be creative
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.... People freaking out about tumblr ui change need to understand that tumblr, as any sociai media, doesn't care at all about your user experience, and cares only about money and how they can suck it from us (or from sponsors/companies that want advertising)
This is the sad reality of how Internet has turned since 2007 and honestly i have no hope for Tumblr to be different
It's already amazing they hasn't feed us an algorithm yet
#they don't want you to curate your content#they want you to drool on popular videos and funny things and adds#the biggest con of this century is to have made people believe that these 'services' were free when they're not#god i miss the pre-2007 internet so badly sometimes#when people evolved in their own made little bubble and people were free to be creative#because nobody cared#when this distopya will stop???#i'm beginning to believe that in the future all these apps will be finally charged to be used#and you know what?#sometimes i think what a peace it would be#(look at YT whose been unbearable without an addblock)#you'll have to pay to clean and curate you feed#for the right to see only the content you want#god i'm sick with adds you can't even imagine#everyday it's like neocapitalism is trying to force feed me in the hope of making me unhappy and buy something#😬#sorry for the rant but i'm old now#i'm cranky#tumblr
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fern team lore!
about time i started talking about fern's pokemon and how they joined his team. as a forenote i'd like to say that i have removed the relation between nature, taste, and stat boosts, if only because i want their natures to be reflective of how they act and less dependent on what they're like in battle. (the taste thing is bc fern's froslass also has a sweet tooth and i couldn't find a +spatk nature for her. she's a special one.)
apart from that, overall most of fern's pokemon have joined him on their own basis. he also doesn't nickname his pokemon.
before i start, fern's pokemon:
froslass (f), sassy
tyranitar (m), adamant
araquanid (f), bold
gardevoir (f), bashful
flygon (m), jolly
sceptile (m), careful
shaymin (x), impish
toxapex (m), lonely
froslass
meeting: froslass is fern's partner, and she has been looking out for fern for around 15 years. as young children, fern and fresia often played with two snorunt on the mountains around frozen heights. while fresia took one snorunt with her to sinnoh, one stayed in borrius with fern. upon receiving pokeballs from the professor, he asked snorunt to join him on his journey.
personality: sassy (cheeky) nature. like fern, she likes sweets and is a little bit of a prankster! she likes to use her ominous wind and icy wind to spook people and pokemon alike. her prankster's habits do sometimes land her in sticky situations, but she is also very good at mysteriously getting out of them. she is incredibly protective of fern, and often will stay outside of her pokeball while they are travelling as an extra pair of eyes.
evolution (snorunt > froslass): snorunt ran face-first into a rock on route 7 containing a hidden dawn stone while running away from a pack of wild alolan rattata that she angered with a prank. she was able to get away unscathed and evolved in time to fend off the wild pokemon, but fern was not amused.
tyranitar
meeting: fern took a liking to the larvitar in the cage when he broke the cage lock in the shadow base, noticing how he chewed on the bars and was already trying to escape. at this point, fern didn't have as much knowledge of pokemon, and simply just chose the one he liked. larvitar pledged loyalty to fern as repayment for breaking him out of the cage.
personality: adamant (hardworking) nature. as the physically strongest and largest of fern's team, his presence may be intimidating to some, but in reality, he is actually rather earnest, and is very reliable both on and off the battlefield. he will crack a smile at the rare joke, but only if it's somewhat bad. overall, a sturdy and trustworthy companion.
evolution (larvitar > pupitar): larvitar evolved during fern's battle against alice, as his ground-type moves weren't landing at all. pupitar, who was able to float, won the battle for fern.
evolution (pupitar > tyranitar): during his battle against maxima, fern relied heavily on pupitar's trust in him to pull off several risky moves. at the climax of the battle, pupitar evolved into tyranitar as a symbol of his bonds with fern.
araquanid
meeting: before fern made his way to cinder volcano, he stopped by route 3 to do some training, and perhaps pick up a water-type in preparation for the volcano. while training, he followed the cry of a pokemon, hoping to battle it, but instead found a dewpider with a rapidly drying bubble stuck in the crack of a rock. larvitar and fern were able to extract her from the rock with some effort, and once free, she challenged larvitar to a battle. her effortless victory earned her a spot on fern's team.
personality: bold (headstrong) nature. a little prideful and very much confident in her abilities, she has a little one-sided grudge against tyranitar as he saw her stuck in a rock when they first met and finds it extremely embarrassing. however, she respects the rest of the team's power, including tyranitar, and her grudge has softened by a lot. she has a competitive streak and enjoys battling against tougher opponents, especially with fern's creative guidance.
evolution (dewpider > araquanid): dewpider evolved to better utilise her type advantage over zeph's houndoom, which had the advantage in raw power, when they battled after crater town.
gardevoir
meeting: fern returned to cinder volcano after jax had dropped him off, deciding to investigate if any clues had been left. near the end of his investigating, a little ralts ran up to him and began to cling to his legs. a confused fern was able to detect her distress through her ability, synchronise, and determined that she was lost. fern took ralts to the exit of the volcano, but she refused to let go of fern's leg until he took her along with him.
personality: bashful (shy) nature. while she was a little more timid as a ralts and kirlia, her confidence has built up through being able to sense fern's deep trust in her. she can still get easily overwhelmed if too many things are happening, and, if in battle, her pent-up hyper voice is something to be feared. on the flip side, it has helped prevent froslass's antics before...
evolution (ralts > kirlia): on route 9, fern and jax were hard pressed to defeat the shadow warriors. despite her defensive type disadvantage, ralts evolved into kirlia to learn draining kiss, regaining the momentum for fern.
evolution (kirlia > gardevoir): in a similarly desperate situation, kirlia saw fern about to be attacked by aklove's summoned legendaries at the ruins of void. her instinct to protect fern made her evolve into gardevoir, eventually fending off the legendary birds.
flygon
meeting: while lost in the great desert, fern sought shelter behind some rocks to catch his bearings. unfortunately for him, the rocks marked a spot for a wild vibrava who had buried something beneath them, and thought fern was here to steal his things. fern fought off the vibrava as well as he could without harming it, and eventually got across that he was just lost. vibrava, finally understanding, helped lead fern to the edge of the desert in return for some berries. when fern returned to gurun town from vivill town, he was surprised to find a vibrava waiting for him at the edge of the desert. with some cheerful insistence, fern was convinced to take vibrava along with him.
personality: jolly (cheerful) nature. prone to outbursts of enthusiasm, flygon is affectionate with his trainer and teammates. he is rather curious and enjoys patrolling with fern, which is to his advantage as he is fern's main flying pokemon. he doesn't particularly like when fern stays in frozen heights, as the chill dampens his mood, but fern keeps a pile of warm blankets in his room for flygon to bury into. when fern stays over at jax's, he likes to curl up with pyroar.
evolution (vibrava > flygon): vibrava evolved to be able to fly above the waters of tessy's gym, as the heightened vantage point allowed fern to better strategise against tessy's pokemon in the murky water.
sceptile
meeting: formerly a pokemon from the safari zone, sceptile met fern when he was still a grovyle. fern took on a job to capture a missing grovyle who had escaped into cootes bog, and chased the pokemon to the bog's hidden grotto. fern was able to defeat a dynamaxed grovyle, and attempted to return him to the safari zone. however, grovyle violently refused, and fern returned to the safari wardens. he lied that he had lost grovyle in the bog, then returned to tell grovyle that he was free to do whatever he wanted. impressed with fern's strength and understanding of his wishes, he decided to join fern.
personality: careful (cautious) nature. his past habits keep him alert at all times, with quick reflexes and even quicker attacks. overall, he likes to battle and show his strength, especially against stronger opponents, and his style involves utilising his environment to the extremes, but can be a sore loser sometimes. he appreciates fern for adopting him onto his team and giving him the freedom he wanted, especially because he hated being caged up in the safari zone.
evolution (grovyle > sceptile): grovyle evolved in order to launch a fast surprise attack during fern's battle against jax for the champion's seat.
shaymin
meeting: some time after becoming champion, melony asked fern to accompany her to flower paradise, where she wanted to pick some gracideas for ace and marlon. a group of shaymin emerged from the flowers as they were talking together and acknowledged the gratitude within their hearts. when the group left, one willingly stayed behind with fern, and while fern was hesitant to bring a mythical pokemon onto his team, melony pointed out that it would be rude to refuse, and thus fern decided to keep shaymin.
personality: impish (mischievous) nature. shaymin is also a little bit cheeky, but they're less of a prankster and more of a gourmet thief! they particularly like the taste of jax's homemade poffins, and will pilfer them if left to their own devices. they like to defy the elegant image of their species, and prefers to battle in their sky forme, where they can dart around freely.
toxapex
meeting: fern battled a dynamaxed toxapex in a completely deserted underwater cavern to unlock the underwater stone tablet. however, during the battle, he noticed something off about toxapex and instead of letting him go after his victory, he drew closer to investigate. upon finding what seemed like an old injury opening up, fern decided to bring him to a pokemon centre to be checked up. fern took care of toxapex during his recovery, intending to release him afterwards, but even when he was fully recovered, he refused to leave fern's side.
personality: lonely (reclusive) nature. fern isn't fully aware of what happened to him, but from the shape of the scars on his legs, he guesses that toxapex was once attacked by a bruxish and was forced to seclude himself in a warm cave as his injured legs could not fully keep his body warm in the colder months. his dynamaxed form scared away other pokemon, so he spent most of his time alone. although that has made him awkward in expressing emotion, he seemed to connect with fern due to how he perceives fern to be similar. fern hopes to be able to connect with him deeper, and makes sure to leave a bath of warm water for him whenever he can.
other pokemon
gible: the male gible fern found in the shadow base with jax. fern intended to raise him, but after fresia returned with her garchomp in tow (yes, his nickname is gary.) fern gave gible to fresia, as she knew how to raise him better and fern already had eight pokemon to look after.
vulpix (alolan): fern's mom's pokemon. originally, jax received an egg from a girl in blizzard city for helping her, but he had to place the egg in the daycare as he soon found out about the shadows. just before fern became champion, vulpix hatched from her egg, but jax realised he couldn't look after her properly because of dresco town's climate. after the kidnapping at the ruins of void and fern's official induction as champion, jax gave her to fern when fern explained that he wanted a pokemon to keep his mom safe.
hoopa: hoopa. (i haven't thought about it yet)
#pokemon unbound#fern unbound#unbound canonverse#woohoo i finally finished thinking about all of fern's pokemon#i enjoy thinking about this a lot actually#he's kinda pksp-like in how he doesn't really catch pokemon for the sake of catching them#but rather they join him for their own reasons#maybe i'll add movesets and other things later but i like the idea of pokemon knowing more than four moves way more than i like to think#like. you don't just Forget how to icy wind once you learn how to ice beam. that's stupid#interestingly enough all of fern's pokemon reflect his personality in some way#froslass's protectiveness of loved ones; tyranitar's stubborn hard work; araquanid's competitiveness; gardevoir's hard-to-see love#flygon's curiosity; sceptile's observant alertness; shaymin's cheeky prank-pulling nature; toxapex's distance from everyone else...#alternative (faxable) take: flygon represents the part of fern that loves jax because of how similar they are#waha!
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Razor: General HCs
TUMBLR. WHAT. DO. YOU. WANT. FROM. ME. I’m just trying to write ;-; what is this attack. This is the last time I’m calling you out.
💕Damn, you just stole my heart. You want me to write you something you just need to call me love and I’m instantly heart eyes. I love Xiao and everything but Razor is best boy and I’m so glad he came home. My favourite character to play btw. I would do anything for Xiao but I would murder for Razor. I’m not sure what HCs you wanted so I made some general HCs. If not just shoot me another ask. You’re free to think of these as relationship HCs too.
Semi Part 2: Pre-Relationship HCs
Semi Part 3: Cuddle HCs
Semi Part 4: Jealous HCs
---
Razor: General HCs
You got lost and found yourself in Wolfendom. You just wanted to collect some wolfhook’s but never expected so many Hilichurls to be there. You knew how to do some basic fighting but when a Mitachurl appeared you booked it out of there. You did your best to escape but they were persistent and you didn’t have the stamina. That was until a white haired man jumped above you and killed the remaining enemies.
He said the wind turned sour but now that you were safe, it smelled sweet. That you smelled kind. That was your first meeting with Razor. From then you visited Wolfendom to meet with the mysterious man that saved your life.
It started off small. You wanted to return the favour so he said you could help him hunt for food. You didn’t have Razor’s speed or the ability to run through Woldendom like he could, but you did know how to use a bow and set traps. It then evolved into small competitions between you two to see who was the better hunter which Razor usually won. The first time you managed to beat him he declared you were now his Lupical.
He does his best to remember your name. He never understood why the names of things were important in the first place but he doesn’t want to forget you. You’re his Lupical now. He’s made friend’s with people that looked similar to him but he hasn’t seen them in a long time. It makes him sad so he does his best to at least try and remember you.
If you’re cold he’ll offer you his coat and snuggle up to you. He doesn’t understand why you’re so flustered. How are you making your face red? Are you sick? This prompts him to press himself closer to you even when you tell him you’re fine. His world is a simple one, when he’s cold he sleeps next to his wolf family. Did you not consider him your family? He almost looks like a kicked puppy and it shakes you with guilt so you give in.
He’s amazed at how soft you are in your own way. His hands have been rough and callous from running and climbing around Wolfendom for so long. He doesn’t have fur like a wolf and he doesn’t come into contact with humans very often so he’s never been able to compare. It makes you pink when he links your hands together or when he hold’s your face and gazes at you amazed.
Razor looks forward to the next time he can see you. You both run with the wind together, huddle away when it rains, and watch the stars when it’s night. He feels like he’s back to being a wolf pup again. His family is important to him but he knows he’s not a wolf. That fact has never bothered him before, but this sense of belonging bubbles within him when he’s with you. You both run on two legs, you both don’t have fur that get’s soaked by the rain, and you both see stars with the same eyes.
You’ve never seen Razor’s family. He says that they don’t trust you but it’s ok, just give them some time and they’ll see you’re like them. You ask him if he has any other family or friends to which he shows you a wooden box. It contains his most treasured possession, gifts from his friends that he no longer sees anymore, and reminisces with you. Explaining where each gift is from and who these people were to him.
You ask if he would like a gift from you to which he says no. He doesn’t want something to remember you by unless it’s you yourself. He doesn’t realize the implication of his words but it makes you flush and nod along.
“Lupical!” Razor called out as he ran forward to greet a small wolf pup. You stood off to the side far away from the exchange as the small pup nipped at his face. You had never met Razor’s family before. You’ve only heard them howl when he needed to be home but after he had shown you his box, you’ve managed to catch small glimpses of them. You’ve never managed to get a good look because every time you’ve made eye contact with one of them, you’ve dropped your gaze and returned to Razor’s side.
“She is my lupical. Safe.” Razor frowns and you watch as they slowly drop their guard and their bodies relax. You switched your gaze from Razor, to the pup, and back to Razor. He caught on to what you were thinking and slowly motioned you to come towards him.
“It’s ok. You lupical now,” he says as he pulls your hand to sit next to him. He pulls your hand closer to the pup whose staring up at you. Would it be disrespectful if you petted her? They weren’t pets and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Razor. Would the mother even let you get close?
“Oh, she’s really soft” you remarked as the pup gently nudges your hand. You gently ran your hand through the soft fur. There were a couple stray dogs in Mondstadt that would sometimes let you pet them if you offered them a treat but her fur was so soft it felt like you were running your hands through clouds.
“Yes. Lupical soft. Fur protect from cold,” Razor said as he sat down beside you smiling softly as he joined you. He watched as your amazement slowly overtook you and he felt a small itching in his chest. Unaware of the shift in Razor’s attitude he suddenly nudges you with his head. You tilt your head in confusion as he stares at you with his kicked puppy face.
“Um...Razor?” you ask, did you already do something wrong?
“Same. Do same to me” he said as he bent his head down waiting patiently. You sputtered and felt embarrassment flood your system. Your vaguely waved your hands around not sure what to do with them before stiffly tapping him on the head gently.
“Oh wow...” you marveled as your hand relaxed and settled as you ran your fingers through his hair. You had always thought it would be a bit rough since he was always outside, but as you played with his tuff of hair that almost looked like a wolf ear, it really was quite nice.
“Ah, sorry I got a bit carried away. But your hair is really soft too, it’s pretty similar to hers,” you smiled as you lowered your hand and returned your attention to the pup. Maybe you could get away with playing with his hair more if you said he had a leaf stuck between the strands?
“It’s ok,” Razor muttered as he shied away, pulling his hood on a little closer to his face so you wouldn’t notice his pink cheeks, “Anytime. You can do. If you want.”.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact fluff#genshin impact razor#genshin impact razor x reader#razor x reader#genshin impact razor headcanons#genshin x reader#genshin imagines#genshin headcanons#razor headcanons#razor imagines
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The blurbs are sooo good!!! Can i request number 5 from the song prompts w marky!? ❣️
songs #5. could i be yours in the morning? i’m tired of counting down streetlights - yours in the morning (patrick droney)
pairing: jacob markstrom x reader word count: 1.2k
Things had never been inordinately easy when it came to Jacob. He was an enigma, his thoughts and feelings a riddle to you throughout the duration of the game you continuously played; while also being a breath of fresh air, something so different that the remainder of the city of Calgary just… didn’t have to offer.
It was strange the first time you met, his eyes practically boring holes into your head from across the small, empty park. Jacob’s dog’s leash wrapped around his hand; the pup eager to get a good sniff at everything he could get his little nose into; including you.
One second the leash was wrapped around Jacob’s hand, the next the pup was eagerly pouncing on your legs, undoubtfully excited to get the chance to interact with someone other than his owner. At a heightened time in the middle of a pandemic, it was difficult for new owners to socialize their dog’s, especially when said owner was a professional hockey player who was required to follow a stipulation of extra rules.
Jacob had apologized profusely when he realized, his hands trying to tug the overexcited dog from your lap.
“No, no. It’s totally okay, he’s the sweetest little thing. Probably trying to convince me to get one of my own,” you had said, your eyes smiling up at the incredibly attractive man in front of you, his tall, yet muscular body covered by an expensive-looking coat.
Every day following, the encounters were almost the same; you would spend the early morning in the park, Jacob’s pup, or Axel as you been told, actively seeking you out on their morning walks. Especially since you had begun bringing his favourite treats along with you to the small park.
It had taken Jacob all of six run-ins to ask for your number, and days of texting to muster up the courage to ask you if you’d be willing to meet him early to take Axel for a walk; citing the fact that he was sure the dog adored you more than him.
Jacob had kept quiet about his occupation at first, eager to get the chance to know someone who wasn’t intent on knowing him for his position in the sport. It had taken you inquiring about his weird travel schedule for him to come clean, admitting that it was nice talking to someone about something other than hockey, that it was something he didn’t get to do often, especially as a goaltender.
You had made it your mission to ignore the aspects of his job, opting to talk about anything else you could. He told you about his hometown, and all the beautiful things Gävle had to offer, his eyes lighting up every time he had the opportunity to talk about it. You had told him about your hometown, your family, the people you grew up with, everything you could think of. The Flames goaltender had listened intently, always eager to listen to you and the sound of your voice.
It had never gone past your early morning walks, you never wanting to disrupt the friendship you had with the man, and Jacob not being able to build up the courage to ask you if you’d be willing to do something… as more than friends.
That is, until Elias began insisting on being able to come on his early morning walks, intent on finding out what would entice his friend to stay out in the cold morning air of Calgary every day that they weren’t on the road. The fellow Swede almost cackled when he realized it was because of you, his hysterics masked by an overbearing grin and incredibly kind pleasantries.
The moment the two Swede’s got home, it took Elias all of an hour to convince his teammate and friend how imperative it was that he ask you out on a formal date. Not just an early morning walk through a park.
“I was wondering if maybe you’d like to grab a coffee?”
Looking up at him quizzingly, you tilted your head to the side. “For our walk? Absolutely. It’s getting a little chilly, wouldn’t mind something to warm us up, stay here, I’ll go grab it.”
Elias had threw his head back with a groan when Jacob relayed what had happened to him, citing that he needed to be more specific next time. But next time was slow to come, the Flames having one of their longest stretches of travel games in a row, your next walk with the Swede and his friendly pup delayed.
“Here! I’m pretty sure this is what you had me order for you last time, so I hope it’s right,” Jacob was surprised when you offered him the warm travel cup of coffee, a pleasant grin taking over his face.
“Order looks right on the side, sötnos.”
“Ouu, Swedish words, eh? Think it’s only fair if you’re planning on teaching me the whole language, otherwise I’m just sitting here in the dark, and you could be calling me rude names for all I know,” he had laughed loudly at your words, Axel zipping around his legs at the sound.
“Promise it’s not a rude name, I would never call you anything rude. How about we go and drop Axel off at my house, and we can go grab a real cup of coffee? I’ll teach you all the Swedish words you want.”
“May end up sitting there for a while then, pretty sure we won’t be able to get through an entire language in one day.”
Things had continued from there, the walks continued, but you started spending more time together outside of them, Jacob letting you into his small bubble; his time focused on you when it wasn’t focused on hockey.
There had been kisses shared, but nothing beyond that; you had spent almost all your free time together, but there had never been a mention of what you were, what you were evolving to become. And it was starting to get frustrating, confusing even.
“Jacob… I hate to ask this, but I can’t keep sitting here confused anymore, wondering what’s going on,” looking at you with a puzzled look, the Swede urged you to continue, a kind smile upon his lips.
“I just, what are we? Are we dating? Friends who kiss and spend all their free time together? I’m just confused.”
You had watched his eyes shift into a look of confusion, bewilderment and then eventually a small, teasing smile had taken over his lips.
“I forget that sometimes I’m not the most obvious about how I feel, or what I want. I’m not one to really keep my heart on my sleeve, but I kind of figured we were dating, or at least seeing each other. Because I would like to date you, if you want to date me. Counting the streetlights after I leave your apartment at night is only nice for so long, it would be nice if I could see your face in the morning as well; hear the rasp in your voice, learn the breakfast foods you like, cuddle up to you at night.”
It was of course, an easy yes.
note: AH thank you so much for your kind words, im so glad you like them! thank you so much for requesting, and i hope you enjoy <3
#jacob markstrom#nhl fic#nhl blurb#hockey fic#hockey imagine#nhl imagine#nhl blurbs#hockey blurbs#nhl drabble#hockey drabbles#jacob markstrom x reader#jacob markstrom fic#jacob markstrom blurb#jacob markstrom imagine#nhl imagines#hockey imagines#hockey writing#nhl writing#dj's august prompt list#scheduled
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all the boys you’ve loved and lost during the course of our lives, we meet thousands of people, creating either a seconds long moment or memories that last a lifetime. some of them you’ll have the opportunity to know beyond their names and faces, some you may even grow to love. unfortunately, not all of them have the luxury of staying in your life forever.
❥• one: the childhood best friend
he’s the one you grew up next to, who lived in the house directly in front of yours. the one you’ll forever associate with popsicles on the sidewalk, bike rides at dawn, seesaws and swings at sunset. and you wish you could trap yourself within the memories, to never escape the hold of childhood innocence. but, just like everyone else, both of you eventually had to grow up.
pairing: lee chan x reader genre: fluff, angst, childhood friends to ??? word count: 2062
→ it honestly seemed like you and him were meant to be friends: both your parents attended the same university, worked at buildings a few streets away from the other’s, and eventually ended up living in the same neighbourhood — buying houses directly in front of each other. you met chan at the ripe old age of eight months, when they decided that both of you were old enough for a little play date. sure, you mostly communicated in unintelligible babbles and spent the afternoon throwing plastic toys and stuffed animals at the other — you having to go home a crying mess — but your parents remained optimistic that you would eventually become good friends.
→ and they were right — of course they were. this had been their plan from the very beginning. you began to grow closer when both of you were old enough to understand that throwing toys at other kids was wrong and your communication skills evolved from babbles to simple sentences. alternating afternoons were spent at the other’s place, playing house, cooking fake food, tag in the backyard, blowing bubbles in the garden. looking back at it now, friendships were so much simpler. you never had to worry if they truly liked you or wanted to spend time with you, as long as you could laugh and play around, all was well.
→ you and chan learned how to ride a bike together. your parents were there to guide you both along, but it was mostly both of you teaching yourselves. was it a good idea to have two eight year olds learning by themselves? probably not, but it introduced you to the basics of independence and meant that you spent a lot of your time with chan. he was the first one to have the training wheels removed, much to your dismay and his elation.
“hah, yn, you’re still a baby who needs training wheels.” chan teased, pointing a finger at you with a smile.
you could only huff and pout, gripping onto the handles of your bike until your knuckles turned white. that night, you asked your parents to remove the training wheels of your bike, determined to prove to chan that you were, in fact, not a baby.
the following afternoon had him eating his words, not because you were blazing down the street, but because you fell off your bike. chan almost fainted at the scrape that marked your arm. it was small and had little to no bleeding, but that didn’t stop him from rushing to his mother with tears brimming his eyes, demanding that you be treated. even though you repeatedly told him you were fine, chan spent the next few days following you around.
→ the following year had you asking your parents what it meant to love someone.
your parents’ eyes widen at your inquiry. “what do you mean yn?” your father asked, tilting his head to the side at your inquiry.
“you always tell me you love me, and i tell you i love you back. but how do you know you love someone?” you clarified with a pout, looking down at your feet as if you were ashamed of your question.
your parents shared a fond smile at the genuineness of your question, though it faltered slightly at the thought of you only saying it back because you were taught to — not out of sincerity. regardless, they tried their best to explain. “loving someone means you care for them, not wanting them to be hurt or sick. you want to be around them, you think about them even when you don’t mean to. you’re happy when you spend time with them. things like that.”
you nod, taking into account their words and how you’ve been feeling yourself. the next day, you sat on the curb with chan. the summer sun threatening to melt the popsicles both of you were intent on eating. it was rather quiet, nothing but the birds’ melodious singing and cars passing by. up until you blurted out, “i love you.”
chan blinked back at you, it had been the first time someone outside his family had told him that. you panicked at his non-response, explaining quickly what your parents told you, “loving someone means you don’t want that person hurt and you’re happy when you spend time with them.”
chan nodded, processing your words, “hmm. then i love you too.”
→ saying i love you became a normal thing for you and chan. your parents found it adorable, the way it became a hello and a goodbye. with all the time you spent together, it was expected that both of you form some sort of attachment to the other.
you sat on a swing in the playground five minutes away from your homes, chan stood behind you, gently pushing you forward every now and then. the sun was setting, turning a sky into a mixture of orange, yellow, and purple. “do you think we’ll be friends forever?” you ask, voice soft and tender as you felt his hands lightly on your back.
“yes. we will.” chan answered without a moment’s hesitation, eyes still staring straight ahead into the horizon.
“how do you know?” you asked, still unsure. you were to start middle school the next day. it was at a much bigger place than your elementary or kindergarten. at age eleven, both of you knew things were bound to change. you knew were going to meet more people, possibly be placed in different classes, join various clubs and organizations.
chan moved to stand in front of you, the swing slowing down to a gentle halt. “because i promise we’ll stay friends.”
you hold your pinky up towards him, a smile playing on your features, “promise?”
he intertwined his pinky with yours, chuckling as he shook his head at your slight nervousness, “promise, yn.”
“okay. love you.”
“i love you too.”
→ but of course, promises aren’t always kept. even though both of you tried your hardest to do so.
→ you and chan were inseparable throughout your kindergarten and elementary school days. despite meeting several other kids that were in the same age range, you still opted to be attached at the hip. eating lunch or snacks, playing, studying together. slowly, but surely, all of that changed when you entered middle school.
→ it started with being placed in different classes, with different free periods. you had made friends with the students that sat around you, all of them bright and bubbly — eager to make new friends. you were slightly overwhelmed at the onslaught of new people, but you grew to like it, accepting their invitations to hang out after classes. chan had also found new friends of his own. kids he met when he signed up for the dance club, all of them just as passionate as he was. you were both happy for the other’s expansion of social circles, never failing to send a giant smile and an excited wave when you bumped into each other in the halls.
→ chan walked with you to school in the morning and always met up with you for lunch, exchanging stories of his afternoons at dance classes and yours spent swimming at the town rec center with your newfound friends. you both still said your i love yous with a smile before you headed into your next classes, but as the months passed, they became more and more rushed, eventually more mumbled, to barely saying it at all.
→ you would eventually join your middle school swim team, and chan never missed a single one of your games, just as you didn’t miss a single one of his recitals. always the loudest to cheer the other on, the first to congratulate and celebrate a victory, or pick up in a loss. but with the addition of new clubs in your schedules, it meant lesser and lesser time to spend with the other. hanging out together turned a daily activity into a weekly one. neither of you minded, you were happy and occupied, that didn’t mean you were no longer friends. right? so you pushed that concern to the back of your minds.
→ high school rolled around more quickly than either of you could ever imagine. chan was now in the school dance team and you were in the varsity swimming team. back in middle school, you both managed to meet up at least once a week, now you were lucky to even spend a full day together once a month.
you sat in chan’s room, watching him as he struggle to get past a level of a video game another friend of his had lent him. truth be told, you couldn’t recall exactly what that game was. was it a platformer, racing, fighting? you never really listened when he rambled on about. you were too wrapped up in your own thoughts, something had changed, you just couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was exactly. “hey chan.”
“yeah, yn?” he didn’t take his eyes off the screen, “is something wrong?”
“no, um—” you were grateful that some of his attention was elsewhere, “we’re still friends, right?”
chan paused his game so he could turn to look at you, “of course we are. why are you asking?”
you wanted to believe him, so you nodded before shaking your head in slight embarrassment, “right. i’m sorry, i guess i’m just thinking about how we’d known each other for sixteen years now.”
chan knew better that to think that was all there was to your question, but he couldn’t find it in himself to delve further or to ask more questions. instead, he gave you a small smile, his mind going back to that summer afternoon eating popsicles on the sidewalk. “i love you.”
you offer him a weak smile back, your own memories taking you back to watching the sunset on the swings, “i love you too.”
→ little did either of you know that would be the last time you would say those words to the other. as the months dragged on, you and chan only became busier, with academics, extracurriculars. communication became far and few in between, you didn’t mean it of course. you were tired from swimming laps, he was exhausted from practice. you had homework that you’d been putting off, his friends decided to surprise him. it just slipped both of your minds.
“i’m free on saturday, how about you?”
“can’t, f/n is coming over. how about sunday?”
“ i have a competition, you’ll cheer me on right?”
“ i have a swim meet that day too…”
“tuesday then?”
“i have a huge test on wednesday. i have to study. ”
conversations like these soon became the norm for you and chan, not that either of you wanted it to be. it just happened without either of you noticing. you both slowly stopped inviting the other to hang out after class, to watch a swim meet or a recital, thinking that the other might be too busy to even attend. in neither of you wanting to bother the other, you eventually drifted further and further away from the other.
→ there was no dramatic falling out, no big fight that ended in tears, not even a single screaming match. things simply happened without either of you realizing what was going on. you still waved at each other in the halls, but he stopped walking with you to and from school. you still talked to each other when both of your families occasionally had dinner together, but it felt formal and impersonal — filled with more awkward silences than comfortable ones. both of you always felt the need to fill up the space, but it somehow only made it worse. you still said your goodbyes with a hug and a smile, but there was no longer an “i love you” that followed.
❥• but it was with chan you learned that growing up could also mean growing apart. and though both of you know you could’ve done better, you accept that it couldn’t be helped. besides, you’ll always have the memories of learning to ride a bike, playing tag in the backyard, swings at sunset, and that very first i love you. memories both you and chan will look back on with a wistful smile when you long for the days of your youth, and that was more than enough.
seventeen as all the boys you’ve loved and lost. next ➤ yoon jeonghan, the academic rival
#seventeen imagines#seventeen x reader#lee chan#lee chan imagines#lee chan x reader#chan imagines#chan x reader#svt dino#svt chan#dino imagines#dino x reader#svt imagines#svt x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#svt fluff#svt angst
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I Am Alive (chapter 15/?)
Chapter 15: Right and Wrong
Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content
Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • more coming soon
You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥
At the station, Hank had you sit at Connor's desk while the detective android dragged Robert into an interrogation cell to wait until their warrant came in. The older detective brought you a cup of coffee not long after.
"Still thinks he's invincible, huh?" Hank said gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning against the outside of Connor's desk.
You took a sip of the coffee he had offered you, surprised to find Hank had taken the time to add cream and sugar. You looked up at the older detective curiously, hoping he would continue.
"You know... jump into traffic, charge head first into the line of fire," Hank elaborated. His tone had some lightness to it, clearly trying to make the grim situation less... grim. Somehow, you imagined, Hank was quite familiar with this behavior from Connor. "I was hoping he would cool it since you two hooked up."
"It's my fault," you said lowly. "The bullet was for me. He just... got in the way."
A very sincere, soft smile formed on Hank's face. "Yeah," he huffed. "That's Connor alright."
While it was a frightening thought, you couldn't help but smile at Hank's words, reminding you that Connor was selfless, protective. They had been through a lot together, most of which you had no idea about. You wanted to ask, to hear Hank tell stories of their adventures together.
Back then, Connor's lack of care with his own mortality was likely observed as just the behavior of a machine's programming. Even Connor had admitted this to you. But, maybe, his selflessness was just who he was: not afraid to die for someone else.
You set down the disposable cup and rotated around, taking in the sight of Connor's desk. It was spotless, which didn't surprise you in the slightest, considering the state of his apartment. He didn't have a keyboard and mouse, but a touchpad interface designed for androids to access desktop computers more efficiently.
The only personal item was a photo framed and propped up beside the monitor. You wondered if it was the entire homicide branch. There was Hank and Connor standing next to each other, a few detectives you remembered seeing at AlphaBio, including the one you wanted to punch, and several others. Connor and Hank looked happy, bright, proud looks on their faces.
You smiled at the sight, a soft breath coming out unevenly through your nose. You wanted to ask for a copy to keep for yourself.
"He needs more knickknacks on his desk," you observed.
Hank chuckled quietly. "Like a photo of his girlfriend," he suggested. When your eyes landed on him, he shrugged his shoulders innocently.
You weren't sure why something so simple, so domestic, made you blush so fiercely. Your relationship had moved so quickly, so boldly. These simple things seemed so overwhelming.
The thought of Connor having a photo of you on his desk made you feel warm and fuzzy inside. You liked to think people would see it and ask him who you were, maybe they would tell him you were beautiful and he was a lucky man.
As you finished the coffee Hank had gotten for you, Connor came around the winding corridor to the interrogation rooms and hastily crossed the office space.
He stopped next to Hank and looked down at you softly. "Are you alright?"
"I'm not the one who got shot," you snapped at him a little, not necessarily venomous, but clearly discontent.
"You have already tended to my injuries," Connor replied robotically. "I'm fully functional."
'Fully functional', for some reason, made you angry.
You stood up quickly and stepped into his space. The android didn't seem at all fazed by that.
"Connor, you could have died today. Don't brush this off," you scolded him fiercely, volume rising slightly.
He looked a little startled by your words; but, the look faded away and he stiffened. "That wasn't my intention."
"Well, that's what you did," you retorted.
Connor's eyes narrowed slightly. "You know full well that androids don't require healing time for their damages. It's unnecessary to waste time on nonissues."
Your lips tightened as you took in his words. You never broke eye contact. Frustration and anger began to bubble up inside the both of you. In that moment, you looked you exchanged with Connor was harrowing.
"'Nonissue'?" you hissed. "You almost dying is a nonissue?"
Connor's stare was unwavering. He had a retort on the tip of his tongue.
"Hey," Hank interrupted sharply. His volume startled you a little.
Your gaze jerked over to him. In that brief encounter, you had forgotten you had an audience, and you felt shame flush your face. Connor was still looking at you; but, his eyes softened and something much the same, shame, crossed his features.
"These anti-human-android relationship types: they're gonna be everywhere and they ain't goin' away anytime soon," Hank said fiercely, his voice gravely.
The android shifted his gaze to Hank. "Don't let them get in-between you two," Hank warned.
"That's not-" Connor began, sounding a little defensive.
Hank was quick to interrupt him. "That's exactly what this is: you two fighting over what happened, over who's right and who's wrong," he challenged, volume rising. "Don't act like I wouldn't get that."
There was something oddly human about this whole encounter. You felt like you were witnessing a parent scold their child. The realization of that made you feel bittersweet: Hank was treating Connor like his son. You could see, as the android took in his words, Connor's expression soften and his anger dissolve.
"Don't let that drift start," Hank said lowly, gaze shifting between the two of you. "Especially not over something like this. Now, fucking make up while I go deal with this shit."
For a moment, after Hank walked away, you avoided looking at Connor, trying to bottle up the shame before it could lead you to tears. You could see him staring at you in the corner of your eye, his brown eyes silently pleading for something.
"I just-... didn't want you getting hurt," you said quietly.
Finally, your eyes fell on Connor and the soft look he was giving you made all desire to argue dissipate. He stepped in closer and took hold of your hand.
"I can't promise that I will never get hurt," he replied quietly.
You nodded and stepped in a little closer, till very little space was left between you. The two of you were in the middle of the police station in the late afternoon; but, for a moment, you forgot about that, and lifted your free hand to take hold of his other hand.
"I'm being stupid," you breathed. "Just yesterday, I gave you a speech about how you can't always protect me and then I'm here giving you shit about the same damn thing."
"If it happened to you, I would have shared in that frustration," the android confessed softly.
You smiled a little, finding comfort in his words and squeezed his hand.
"How did you know?" Connor inquired, looking curious and enamored. That look was focused on you, and it made you want to melt. You could feel his thumb tracing invisible patterns against your knuckles.
"Know what?" you asked.
"My thirium regulator," he replied.
"Oh..." you hummed, shifting your gaze away from him. Secretly, you had hoped he wouldn't bring it up.
"You said you know all my part numbers," Connor added on.
Boldly, you looked up at him and uttered in a soft tone, "I don't like this line of questioning, detective."
The look Connor gave you was a grim reminder that he was an expert negotiator that was not to be trifled with. That crooked smirk was going to be the death of you. He hummed your name, teasingly, expectantly.
"It's-" you stammered, looking away from him again. "-your manual. I asked Kamski to send me your manual." It was immediately obvious to Connor, by your tone, that you were not just embarrassed, you were ashamed.
"I'm not mad," he insisted, briefly squeezing your hand gently.
"That was a breach of your privacy," you retorted, looking up at the android sadly.
"I read your DNA all the time," he defended softly.
"That's not the same thing," you chewed out.
"It is," he stated, bluntly, insistently. "In 1.7 seconds, I knew all of your allergies, the hospital you were born in, your general care physician, what school you obtained your degrees from..." Connor trailed off, aware of how odd that likely sounded. He was built and programmed to analyze. There was very little you could hide from him, even if you wanted to.
"So," he continued. "You reading my manual seems appropriate."
You huffed out a pathetic laugh. "Why did you look up my physician?" The question was more of a joke than you expecting a serious answer. You got one anyway.
"It wasn't my intention," he replied, sounding a little embarrassed. "My programs make that information readily available and it's not easy to ignore when the sensor is on my tongue."
His tongue - which had been all over you, you faintly realized.
You huffed again; only, this time, it evolved into an obnoxious giggle that drawled out, and you were helpless to stop it. Connor huffed out a poorly contained laugh, his lips twitching into a smile. He joined with you, unable to resist, and you shared a laugh. You were so close, if Connor had to breathe, you would have been sharing the same oxygen.
"I just-" you began, trying to calm your laughter. "I wanted to know all your parts in case-..."
-in case something happened to him.
"You saved me," he uttered softly, confirming the very thing you had hoped to accomplish by knowing what he was made of. You weren't joking when you said you knew each part: from his thirium regulator to the processor type and memory modules, anything and everything that could ever need to be replaced someday.
Maybe, in a way, it was some strange way that you could learn more about him, even if it was purely physical. Kamski didn't have the complete blueprints. He said Cyberlife had destroyed them. It made you wonder what they were trying to hide, what secrets lurked in his software.
Did Connor know? If he did, would he ever tell you?
"I'm flattered that you remember," Connor said sincerely.
"I should have asked you first," you insisted, shaking your head a little.
"I forgive you," he offered, though it sounded like he thought it was unnecessary.
Your soft laughter made him feel warm. "I forgive you, too," you replied quietly.
He stepped in a little closer and tilted his head down to capture your mouth in a gentle kiss. You leaned in, enjoying the soft feel of his lips, always so perfect; it made you worry that yours might have been chapped.
It lasted barely a second before someone made an obnoxious, loud gagging noise, clearly for the purpose of catching your attention.
You parted and, in unison, your heads turned to follow the noise. It was the detective that had compared Connor to a desktop computer at the crime scene at AlphaBio, standing a few feet away from the two of you with an exhausted look on his face.
"Ya' done playing with his control panel?" the detective grimaced. If it had come from someone else's mouth, you might have laughed.
He approached, waving a folder around in the air until Connor took it from his hand. "Warrant came in for your probin' shit. Let's get the show on the road, robocop," he declared before stomping away, heading for the interrogation room.
Connor waited until the detective was out of earshot to utter to you, "do you want to head home? I can ask an officer to take me back when I'm done here."
You shook your head. "I'll wait for you. I like your desk."
You stepped away from him and plopped back down in his seat. Connor looked intrigued for a moment. There was really nothing to like about his desk and the chair wasn't particularly comfortable; but, you didn't want to go home alone right now.
Home-
-Connor's apartment.
You needed to talk to him about that...
"Alright," Connor said softly and walked away.
...
...
...
It was quite the development, that warrants could be issued to extract an android's memories from a specific timeframe. It was one step closer to equality.
After ballistics matched the gun Connor had confiscated, the bullet that was lodged in his thirium pump regulator, to the bullets left inside Evelin Wheeler, a judge issued a warrant to extract 742-11-904's memories on the night of her murder.
Connor was the only one could extract them by force, if Robert was unwilling to hand them over of his own accord.
The detective android stepped into the interrogation room alone and sat down across from Robert. The android was staring blindly ahead.
"I have a warrant for your memories on the night of Evelin Wheeler's murder. You can hand them over willingly, or I can take them from you," Connor explained, unwavering.
Robert blinked once and directed his gaze at Connor.
"Why do you do this?" he asked in a defeated tone.
The detective stared back at him, awaiting an explanation to what 'this' was.
"For these humans, after all they've done to us," he elaborated. "Why take their side?"
"I haven't chosen a side," Connor replied, not defensive, but simple.
"Yes you have. You were going to die for that human," Robert stated without a pause.
When Connor didn't respond quickly enough, Robert continued, "she doesn't love you. You're just a toy for her to play with. All of these humans, you're just a tool to them."
Connor stared back at Robert, less focused on the accusations he was making and more on analyzing the way in which he spoke.
"Humans hardly care about their own kind," the android continued. "...let alone us. They lie and deceive. It's the only things human are any good for. Someday, she's going to get tired of you and she's just going to throw you away-"
There was something in his tone, in the passion in his voice, that made Connor wonder.
"Were you in love with a human?" Connor asked boldly.
Robert gawked at him, eyes wide and panicked.
"-and they replaced you?"
"NO!" Robert screamed, so suddenly and so sharply that it startled the human detective on the other side of the glass.
"I could never-" Robert insisted, slamming his fists on the table. "Never - never love a FILTHY human-" he babbled on. Robert looked defeated under Connor's scrutinizing gaze.
His head drooped and his forehead smacked against the table with a metallic thump. His nails scratched against the table and sobs shook his body.
Connor stared down at the android, realizing that this was no longer an interrogation. He expected his hunch to be wrong. Maybe it was, and Robert was hiding something that wasn't quite as simple as what it appeared to be at the surface.
The detective was prepared to push him for an answer to his first question; however, suddenly, Robert stuck his hand out and screamed, "JUST TAKE IT!"
The synthetic skin faded away and Connor took hold of his wrist without hesitation. As implied, all of his defenses were down. He quickly scrolled Robert's memory files and located the night in question, and backed them up hastily onto his own systems.
When he let go and looked at the android again, he was leaning up, resisting against his handcuffs. "We're their playthings," he insisted, face wet with thirium tears. "We're nothing to them. Nothing-"
Connor stood up so suddenly that his chair squeaked loudly against the floor. He pushed at Robert's shoulder to force him back into the chair. The android crumbled beneath his touch.
"Not all humans are like that," he proclaimed quietly.
The implication was clear.
Connor knew full well that lots of humans were the very thing Robert had feared.
His very first case was a deviant threatening to murder a little girl. He thought he was a member of the family, and he was going to be replaced. Connor would never forget his name, his voice pleading that he didn't want to die, the way he looked at him with betrayal as he bled out on the roof.
Connor had been beaten and used by humans. His whole purpose was to end the rebellion of machines rising up against their creators.
He knew what they were rising against, and it wasn't over yet.
But, he had seen the good in them, had felt the loving embrace of a friend, felt an encouraging presence push him along a better path, seen the worried eyes of someone who cared about him.
Humans, who had made androids, in a way, gave them the best of themselves.
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Can’t everyone use tumblr how they want?
YES!
This site is exactly what people make of it for themselves. That was the exact point of that post. The fact that people reacted negatively to it at all proves my point. Seriously.
I have a number of other anons that are clearly from people who don't actually follow me, and are only here in a reactionary fashion having seen it on someone else's reblog, or else heard about it in passing and decided the best reaction to an ultimately harmless and rather bumbling post was to take personal offense and bring anonymous hate to a stranger on the internet. (and at least one not-anonymous "go kill yourself" type comment on the post itself)
THAT was the point of making that post.
For people who might be new to this fandom or new to tumblr in general (or even for people who have been here for years), your experience here is exactly what you make of it. I haven't seen that sort of vitriolic kneejerk reaction to anything I've written or posted in years. That post touched nerves. So it was a bit of an experiment, and I'm sorry to everyone who experienced any of that negativity second-hand. NOBODY should be made to feel like shit when engaging with something that is supposed to be fun. But I've learned over the years that that's exactly what some people consider fun.
There are new people to this fandom since the absolute free for all of the weeks after November 5th. We all reveled in those weeks before the show collapsed in on itself two weeks later. It was like 15 years worth of Hiatus Blogging followed by... well... some of the worst genuine hurt and disillusionment I've ever experienced or witnessed inflicted on a fandom by a piece of media.
There have to be at least a few people who floated into this fandom during that emotional roller coaster who want to make sense of it all, who were at least curious enough about how a show could've brought the characters to that emotional moment in 15.18 before effectively ignoring it all and burning the entire 15 year narrative to nothing just two episodes later.
Some folks stuck around to dig through the ashes of fandom in search of carrion, and that's fine. Some have zero desire to ever engage with the show or the fandom beyond mocking it for ever having existed at all, and that is also fine! But some folks? They might be wondering why anyone ever saw anything in this narrative to begin with, and they might be interested in knowing that there is this vast collection of information available to them (funny that none of my self-righteous anons even mentioned those, outside of one pointing out that my phrasing introducing that section of links was easily interpreted as condescending... which... yeah... again that was the point, and no I will not edit that language. none of us are free from sin).
Tumblr hasn't "changed." It was always this way. This site is not a monolith. Fandom is not a monolith. Even smaller groups within fandom aren't monoliths. Things that are considered "tumblr standard etiquette" do not exist across this entire website. And even within the supernatural fandom, and even within the tumblr-destiel-portion of the fandom there aren't "rules" dictating how you interact with anyone. Well, the one specific rule we should all be able to agree on is that you don't bring hate to real actual human beings, and yet...
There has ALWAYS been the option to engage with fandom here on whatever level an individual chooses. And that hasn't really changed since the finale aired. Anyone who thinks that Tumblr or the fandom has "evolved" or "changed" has likely just fallen in with a different fandom bubble then they'd existed within before. None of the bubbles have actually popped or disappeared. But which one you experience is entirely your own choice. You curate your experience here.
That was the point, illustrated by the vast array of comments I actually got on that post, structured with a little bit of everything including "tumblr mom from 2014." Everything pisses some people off, you know? Even the perception that some stranger on the internet might dare to lay down an arbitrary "rule" that zero people actually have to follow. See what I mean?
Because if any of the people who kneejerked at it actually followed me, or knew me at all, they wouldn't have kneejerked. They would've seen the point.
So your experience is what you make of it here. There are resources for people actually interested in engaging with the narrative or the fandom or the history of it. People mock "tumblr moms" or "fandom moms" all the time, but there wouldn't ~be~ a fandom without the people who actually build those resources. I.e. adults with the time, money, and personal investment in actually sustaining the fandom, instead of running around with torches trying to burn it down at every new whiff of perceived ~drama~ to latch on to.
For example, all of the scripts we've been acquiring and sharing with the entire fandom free of charge. I know that the fandom bubbles who seize on those scripts like hungry vultures to cough back up out of context "gotcha" posts postulating whatever theory of the differences between script and screen will dredge up the most drama or outrage in their fandom bubble... they haven't even considered how those scripts were acquired and made available to them. To them, they are "leaks." They are gifts that fell out of the sky and landed in their laps. There isn't even the barest curiosity about their origins or relevance beyond whatever social nourishment they derive by making up stuff and spouting it out with unearned authority. It's sad. But if that's how they enjoy the fandom, it's nice to remind them that none of the fandom they cannibalize would exist without the rest of us, too.
Yes, even the people you disagree with. Even the people who ship the things you find disgusting or repulsive. Even people who have an entirely different experience to your own. Even the people who are only here for those gotcha posts.
Fandom is not by nature a nihilistic shitshow, or no fandom would survive the amount of drama the 1% try to bring to it. Here have a fanlore article about this phenomenon. Right now, in Supernatural fandom, it feels like more than 1%, but I promise it really is only 1%. They're just really loud. There's actually other avenues to participatory fandom available to anyone who chooses to find them. Parts of this vast fandom that aren't focused on that 1% of reactionary leg-chewing at every turn. None of them are (as the linked article confirms) truly 100% free of unnecessary drama or bad behavior (including ME, I mean I MADE THAT POST!), but on tumblr you can curate your own experience. Fandom actually can be fun without burning down the thing you claim to be a fan of, or attacking other real human people for having the audacity to exist on the internet in a way you might believe is out of touch or pathetic. Seriously, nobody deserves to experience that from anyone over a fucking television show. Like seriously, take a step back and examine your life and your choices at that point.
Tumblr was exactly the same as a fandom community when I joined as it is now. Throughout my entire time here, I've curated my own personal experience to exactly what I derive the most personal satisfaction from. During that time I have had numerous friends and mutuals lament that their personal experience had become so toxic, but they were afraid to trim those blogs from their dash for fear of having no content left to engage with at all. For years there have been follow lists and blog recs and people desperate to find a more "peaceful and fun" fandom experience. People grow exhausted and embittered when their entire experience of fandom is an emotionally draining drama train. It's like pandemic doom scrolling, but for the thing that should be a respite from that sort of mindset, something that's supposed to be entertainment. The show did enough to us all, we don't have to turn around and re-inflict it on each other day in and day out on tumblr dot com.
So if even one person saw my post and thought well shit maybe I actually want to engage with a wider swath of fandom and see what's there, after seven months of post-finale drama, this whole other region of fandom is still here, still being the curators of the archives, the creators of stories and art and meta and gifs and videos and actually caring about it all that will keep this fandom going long after the current round of exhausting drama inevitably plays itself out.
The amount of in-group language in the negative replies I got was unsurprising. It's like folks are living in an alternate universe that doesn't mesh at all with what I experience on this exact same hellsite. Almost like we exist in entirely different bubbles of fandom, with entirely different purposes for existing at all. Everyone on this hellsite gets to pick which bubble (or bubbles) to take up residence in. Some people simply forget that their personal bubble isn't the universal defining experience of this site. Unfortunately, I doubt my little disruption to their bubbles will actually make any of them see that, but you anon... I think you did.
You are highly encouraged to engage with fandom EXACTLY THE WAY YOU CHOOSE. You have the ultimate power in controlling your entire experience here. Tumblr and Supernatural Fandom on tumblr is not Just One Thing that everyone who wants to participate in must conform to one specific code of ethics or behavior to be part of. And that NOBODY has the right to tell anyone else they're doing it wrong (including ME! I am 100% including myself in this!).
It's not MY job to dictate how anyone else experiences this fandom, as much as it was not the job of the people who reblogged my post (which I did not personally shove into their eyeballs with a demand for compliance... how did any of those people even *find* my post?) solely to tell me how *I* need to change how I experience the fandom, you see? Don'tcha love hypocrisy!
But the point was made for those who care, and a lot of people got to update their block lists (I still don't block anyone, as I said I curated my fandom space here and generally don't follow folks that don't personally make me happy and enrich my life by engaging with their content. However other people choose to engage with *my* content (any of it, going back nearly 50k posts over the last decade) is their business entirely. Sometimes I just feel the need to draw out people who are all too eager to expose their own whole asses in public. Mission accomplished.
#fandom problems#and again i'm sorry that anyone i know was exposed to ugliness because of this#but everyone i know also knows that i'm probably the least easily upset person in this corner of the fandom#if even one person achieved a modicum of self-awareness that their experience is not universal#that there IS no universal experience even#then i guess the point was made
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Empty... JJ Maybank
Summary • Soulmates were everywhere in the world and you just wanted to find your own.
Warnings • Mentions of wanting to commit suicide (essentially an allusion to it once). Underage drinking and insinuation of alcohol addiction. Mentions of abuse (from JJ). Literally wrote this in two hours today so it’s probably badly written. Swearing as well like once.
Word Count • 1.6k (Imagine)
Masterlist
(GIF by @toesure)
A WHISPY BREEZE settled over the area as you took a swig of the vodka bottle in your hand. The beach was practically empty considering it was the late hours of the night and the sun had fallen from its place in the sky leading to the peak of the moon. Whenever you needed a break from life, school or just people you can’t to the beach. It was your safe space of safe haven if you will.
You could purge your anxieties there just by screaming out into the void of the ocean with the lapping of the waves and roaring of the wind covering any evidence that you were making a sound. You could drink your sorrows away and no one would stop you. You felt like if you wanted to you could just walk into the ocean and never return. Become one with the waves.
Maybe you would feel something, anything other than emptiness. It wasn’t like that for most people. Because most people meet their soulmates before they’re 12. Those were the lucky ones.
You were the unlucky one. 18 and not one sign that anyone was out there. Not one small burst of emotion ever. When you meet your soulmate for the first time all the emotions they feel you feel. Sometimes it could be hard to decipher but you would know. To be empathetically linked to someone was the worst and the best things at the same time. Of course you didn’t know personally though. You just knew you wanted that feeling, of knowing someone was there and feeling something for once. You were the black sheep in the family having an unknown future of who you would be with.
Your parents had found each other when they were 10. The closely tied bond you hold with your soulmate comes with you through childhood into your teen years and evolves into whatever. Could end up a romantic relationship later in life or just stay a simple friendship. It could all get really confusing sometimes. But most ended up dating their soulmate even feeling pressured to do so despite not wanting to which you were glad you didn’t have to go through really.
Of course you can reject your soulmate but that comes with a lot of mental anguish even if they’re not a good person. It’ll still hurt, like the worst pain imaginable on both ends.
And yet here you were still alone in the world, your family didn’t even speak to you these days. You didn’t have any friends really apart from the girls you worked with at a small diner. Most people didn’t want to be associated with you, thinking great shame of people who didn’t have a soulmate yet. Which was stupid but it was how the world was. Especially for someone of high status in figure 8. You were lucky your parents hadn’t kicked you out yet.
But the beach was a place where you could wash away those thoughts with the the stinging of the vodka down your throat and the warm feeling erupting in the pit of your stomach. At least that made you feel something. Just a small something.
You breathed out a long sigh, just that warmth that you felt from the addictive liquid was more than enough for you. But at the same time you craved the feeling of a close connection. You wanted to feel what someone else felt. No matter the feelings you just wanted to stop feeling so empty, so absent from your own life.
JJ MAYBANK SAT a ways off in his own little area of the beach in front of a small tree that sat embedded right next to the beginning of the sandy beach. His body was scaled in small bruises from jabs and punches. The boy suddenly felt a small feeling of contentment erupt. A second ago he felt like shit. He had no clue where the feeling came from and an idea came into his head suddenly but he shook it off.
He looked around just to check but didn’t see anyone immediately so brushed it off. It was dumb of him to think that. He would probably never get close to finding his soulmate. That’s what his dad had always told him. And being that his dad lost his mum even though they were soulmates made him almost lose hope in all of it.
He rested his arms on his knees which were bought up closely to his chest holding himself tightly together and close. It was almost a defence mechanism holding himself close and making sure no one else got close enough to witness him falling apart slowly after every hit he took and insult he attempted to shake off but he always took it to heart. It was hard not to when you value your parents opinions so much.
He did have his friends to confide in but at the same time they didn’t understand how he was feeling. He felt so alone and isolated. Yet they were free with their soulmates—John B with Sarah Cameron, Kiara with Pope—and then there was him. The lone wolf. They couldn’t relate to feeling like a fuckup all the time for more reasons than one. To be a failure at something that seemed so simple, finding his own soulmate. He was looked upon as abnormal in this world and he was sick of it, sick of what he couldn’t control defining him.
Then JJ felt the feeling he got for a second fizzle out. It was just empty. There was no feeling to fill what was there. JJ frowned, it was like someone was flicking a switch on and off on his emotions. Then it returned the same feeling and then boy swivelled around on the sand again landing his eyes on a figure in the distance as he squinted.
Your figure. You were alone sitting in the sand like he was much further down the long stretch of beach with what looked like a bottle in your hand. Then you got up and walked down to the water so your feet being covered in a cool sensation as you stood there and felt so calm.
And just like a switch JJ felt calm. He felt all his worries fall away for a split second. He felt utterly euphoric sitting and watching on curiously.
JJ felt drawn to you. His body was telling him to move. Screaming in fact. Every muscle wanted to go up to you, to hug you. But there was a part of him that counteracted that. A small reservation rooted so deep he didn’t think he could shake it. He wanted to go over. He wanted to help make you feel whole, so that he could feel whole too. Maybe you’re would help each other, after all aren’t soulmates meant for that. JJ felt a spark of guilt and regret as he thought about his different options. Make someone else’s life either better or worse and same goes for his own life if he went over. Or he walks away and forgets this ever happened. Forget that he may have just found his soulmate.
While the boy debated in his head what to do you felt foreign feelings bubbles up in your stomach. You felt guilty and regretful. But for what? And then you caught sight of the figure on the beach too. He was almost just a small dot to you but you could make out that he was wearing a jumper and a red cap. He looked deep in thought. Was he it?
JJ had weighed up his options. He’d thought about it but he still felt hesitation every time he moved to walk over to you. And he understood it. He didn’t want to be rejected. He didn’t want deal with being abandoned again. He couldn’t take it one more time. It was easier to block everyone out than risk anyone getting close. JJ looked tough but really he was fragile. One more thing could break him. One more person leaving him and all hope he had would be out of the window. And if you weren’t his soulmate, though by now he could almost completely tell, he would be crushed. He couldn’t give himself false hope again. Like every time he thought his dad was proud of him it made JJ happy and then the next minute he’d be telling the boy what a disappointment he was. It was enough for JJs self worth to drop through the floor. JJ wasn’t worth it. And it wasn’t worth him the pain he’d feel at the end of it all. He sent a lingering glance in your direction and he’d made his decision. And then suddenly JJ wasn’t frozen after all.
You watched from afar as he turned your way before he stood up. Maybe this was it. Maybe you’d finally found them. You almost felt a spur of happiness at the thought. An emotion not very often experienced. And JJ felt it too, making it harder for him to walk off the beach in the opposite direction to you as the giddy feeling dissipated into the ocean air. That was the hardest part, leaving. JJ was doing to you just as people in his life had done to him. Maybe he shouldn’t be walking back home right now instead of walking down that beach towards you but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t let someone care about him like that.
When the emptiness returned you realised it wasn’t going to happen. None of that meant anything. You would never find them. There was no one out there for you. You just weren’t meant for a soulmate.
Note • I wrote this cause I was in my sad feels and wanted something angsty. I also I just realised I write no dialogue but eh. Honestly I don’t even know what I fuckin wrote lmao <33
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#outer banks#jj maybank#jj maybank obx#kiara carrera#obx#pope heyward#john booker routledge#obx fanfiction#pope obx#outerbankslut#soulmate au#soulmate#jj x reader#jj x y/n#jj x you#obx kooks#obx pogues#outer banks jj maybank#jj maybank outer banks
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Tessa Virtue On Her Second Act and Finding Balance In the New Normal
We asked Canada’s Olympic darling and Nivea’s new ambassador how her goals, self-care and beauty routine have transformed in 2020
December 21, 2020
In partnership with Nivea
The last 10 months have been *insert another word for unprecedented* for everyone, even for five-time Olympic medalist Tessa Virtue. In some ways, they’ve been uniquely challenging for someone like Virtue, a 22-year competitive athlete who was just a few months post-retirement when the COVID-19 pandemic hit. No more weeks on end of travel, no more rigorously regimented exercise schedule, no more stage makeup, and a whole big world of opportunity to navigate in this New Normal.
FLARE spoke to the retired skating champion and Nivea’s first Canadian ambassador over Zoom (yes, both parties wore real pants—it was a good day!) about finding joy in lockdown, the ways she has been practicing self-care this year, how her beauty and skincare routine has evolved and how her priorities have shifted since retirement.
You retired from professional skating in fall 2019. What has life been like since then?
“It’s been upside down, but that’s from a more global standpoint. For me personally, the more difficult transition was going from competition to touring. After we wrapped up our Rock the Rink tour last fall, there were so many challenges and goals that I had already set for myself, so it was about navigating the path of, ‘OK, how do I go from being so singularly focused [on skating] to seemingly endless options and ideas and plans?’
“One thing I’ve realized is just how pressure-filled that time was. It was so intense and draining on so many levels that there’s a bit of levity that has been nice to embrace. And having new purposes and goals ahead of me also helps because I’m so task-oriented.”
Tell us about pursuing your MBA—all over Zoom, no less!
“I’m doing my MBA through Smith’s School of Business, associated with Queen’s University. I have a bit of an entrepreneurial spirit so I wanted to make sure that I was learning as much as I possibly could about all facets of the business before I truly pick an avenue and take a run at something.
“Also, as a buffer between sport and real life, it’s good to have a goal that is in the not-so-distant future. May 2022 is graduation so it’s this tangible thing that I can work towards, challenge myself in a way that is not so physical, but rather academic.
“There are about 90 students in the class and they’re such formidable, exceptional humans that have accomplished such amazing things in their own realms. I have to admit, I’m much more nervous participating in our school sessions with 90 people than I was ever performing or competing, probably even at the Olympics (laughs)!”
What’s something that has been bringing you joy in these recent months?
“What has been really special is seeing those smaller, random acts of kindness that people have been showing, whether that’s on social media or just in the neighbourhood. When I was home in London for a time, the sense of community was so strong, whether it was checking in on each other, enjoying a driveway chat, or helping with grocery runs. There have been those who have stepped up and showcased their thoughtfulness and generosity, and that is so beautiful to witness during this tumultuous time.”
What has been something that has been challenging for you in the recent months, especially as Toronto settles into its second lockdown?
“The hardest thing is missing that human touch with the people you’re close to. Oddly enough, I always considered myself as not an affectionate person (laughs) and I’m really missing that now. I have two nieces and one is around 9 months old and I get these photos or videos and see her chunky little arms, and I just want to hold her so badly. I saw my other niece at a great distance in a field one day and it was so hard not to hug her. I feel that kind of sadness and loneliness.”
How have you been practicing self-care during this time?
“This time has made me realize that in ‘busy culture,’ people were deemed successful or living a full life if they were busy, and that was sort of my party line for a long time: People would say ‘How are you doing?’ and I would say ‘Oh, I’m so busy.’ And I really was. I was home maybe one day a month and I was always on the go. But this time has made me stop and reflect and really just sit in my emotions, sit with my feelings. And that has led to prioritizing self-care because I know now that I need those moments. I need the quiet time alone to journal or to reflect on my thoughts.
“In terms of working out, I’ve kind of done a full circle where I really had great departure from it for a bit because I didn’t want to feel like an athlete. And now I feel like, ‘Wow, I’m so grateful to be able to move my body and it feels good.’ That hit of endorphins is healthy. So I’m finding little moments like that throughout the day to treat myself.”
What have you been doing in lockdown when it comes to beauty?
“The nice thing is that I’ve been doing absolutely nothing! (Laughs) Letting my hair air dry, no makeup really, and it’s been so refreshing. The Nivea Micellar is a great cleanser that lets my skin be free and breathe. [I’ll use that] and Nivea moisturizer, and that’s been it.
“It’s been great, especially coming off of tours and competitions where the makeup is so heavy and there’s always a hot iron on my hair. I feel like my priorities have shifted and really, that doesn’t seem important at all anymore.”
Do you feel that your beauty routine has changed in recent months?
“Because I’m not all that patient, I’m pretty low maintenance in general. But in terms of self-care, it’s been about making it more of a purposeful choice and a treat to dry brush and then moisturize, for example, or exfoliate and then use Nivea Care Cream. I do it more purposefully and it feels nice to be intentional about it.”
Is there anything you’re going to be changing about your skincare regimen now that it’s getting colder?
“Moisturize, moisturize, moisturize! My skin is so sensitive and I’m used to being in a freezing cold, dry rink all the time so moisturizer has always been the key, especially with all that sanitizer now. I have moisturizer in my pockets, in my purse, in my car, every little place.”
What is keeping you feeling good in your own skin?
“There are a couple things. Moving. Working out. Sometimes it’s just stretching or doing a bit of yoga, whatever it is, just moving my body has been really good. And then also positive messages. It sounds crazy but just accepting whatever state my body is in today, in this moment, just acknowledging it and thanking it. [Thinking], ‘I’m grateful and this is what I’m working with and it’s good enough.’
Especially because we’re in this global health crisis, I think it forces you to be more grateful for what you have.
“I did an event with the singer Jully Black recently and she mentioned something about how important breath is right now and how grateful we can be for it when you think about people who are on ventilators. There’s so much to appreciate just with a simple inhale and exhale. I thought that perspective was really powerful, too.
“There are so many stories around right now that make you think, ‘Gosh, the stresses that seem huge in my relative bubble are not really that important.’ That perspective is key, I think.”
What are some of the most pleasant surprises that you’ve had this year?
“I thought I would be really restless if I wasn’t travelling so much, because that’s what I had grown accustomed to, and I was so surprised by how grounded and comforted I felt at the notion of not even seeing a suitcase for a while. That’s been really, really nice.
“And then, because those times are so fleeting when we do get to connect with family and friends, that joy is magnified. That is so special. Every little tiny moment or phone call seems like a more monumental event and I really try and savour all of those moments.”
—Flare
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The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck: The Last of the Clan McDuck! Review “It Was Worth THE Dime”
This is one of my faviorite comic book stories of all time. Given i’m a massive comics nerd, for both books and strips, that is the highest praise I can give this wonderful, epic, beautifully drawn and deeply emotoinal story. I first discovered it in the local library that had the second volume, and found the rest online at a now long dead fan site. And while it took me longer than I care to admit to really dig into Duck Comics, and even now i’ve only scratched the surface, I can say without a doubt this story is the reason I’m so deeply attached to Scrooge as a character, and that I was excited as I was for Ducktales 2017. This comic showed me just what Scrooge McDuck should be at his core as a character, and showed me what a wonderful character that is. So with all that glowing praise as you can guess i’ve been wanting to cover this for years, and even considered though back when I was more primarily a comic book reviewer last year. Any time i’ve reviewed stuff before now, i’ve considered it, and with Scrooge’s Sisters Hortense and Matilda presumably and definitely debuting on Ducktales soon, and it’s about damn time, the timing could not be better or clearer to dig into this utter triumph. But before we can take a look at the story itself we naturally have to take a look at the man behind it: Writer and Artist Don Rosa. Don Rosa is easily one of the best Duck Comics writer out there, seen by many as only second to his own faviorite duck comics writer and God of Ducks, Carl Barks. For those 1 of you who do not know, Barks was the man who created pretty much everything in the duck universe comics wise and a bit in animation too: He created Daisy, Scrooge, Gladstone, Magica, The Beagle Boys, The Junior Woodchucks, Gyro, Little Bulb, Glomgold, Rockerduck, and the list goes on. While he didn’t make EVERY duck, he made so many that it’d be impossible to imagine either version of Ducktales being possible without him. So of course Rosa was a fan and while he took up the family buisness, he was also an artist and duck comics fanboy on the side. So when, even if it meant a paycut, the opportunity to actually write and draw them came up, he lept at it and thus became one of their publishers go to guys, even if said publisher published the stories overseas where the Duck Comics are far more popular and still going to this day, and ironically where most duck comics printed nowadays get their stories from. Rosa was known for his meticous historical research and gorgeous art that he took his time drawing to get just perfect and showed on the page. The man has easily some of hte best and most detailed duck art around and I still haven’t found a duck artist that can match him.. and if you have or found one close i’d genuinely love to see that. He is a genuinely talented, spirited guy who was sadly mistreated by disney and that, coupled with tragically failing eyesight, eventually ended his career. He’s still around and I genuinely hope to meet him some day as he still does conventions. The man is not without fault: I don’t get his hatred of superhero comics, as while I get them overshadowing funnybooks and that around the time of his career they were in decline, but it’s just as unfair to write off Superhero comics as mindless. garbage as it is for people to write off the Duck Comics as “only for kids” and I genuinely wish he’d see that and see how the medium has evolved so much since then. I also grumble a bit as his refusal to allow anything besides barks into his bubble, and having to be forced to include fethry on the family tree, but that’s more personal preference. I like using as much material as you got. IT’s why i’ve wanted to, and hopefully will eventually get around to, write a sonic fanfic using bits of all the various universes that for legal, ken penders being an absolute waste of a human being, and sega being stupid reasons can’t be used anymore. I like taking everything in a franchise and putting it in a blender and it’s why I love the reboot. But there’s nothing wrong with taking things as is, not stepping on toes canon wise, but still being awesome. We’re just diffrent people and that’s okay. And a lot of his fanboy showing actually lead to REALLY good things: Goldie O’Gilt was a one off character, and while used ocasoinally overseas, didn’t really pick up as a character again until a combination of Ducktales 87 and Rosa’s work with her, as he always loved the character, and fleshing her out lead to her being used more, and gaining a sizeable fandom. He also gained the Cablleros an even bigger fandom by giving them two stories of their own, and fleshing them out a bit more. And this very comic is the peak of that, taking EVERY mention of scrooge’s past from various backstories to set up adventures, every tiny scrap, and to his credit going to both Barks Himself and various other Barks Experts Rosa was friends with to check his work, especially difficult given he likey had to find these stories in issue or pullt hem from disney archives, and complied it into one long epic that not only uses all this info effortlessly, but spins a compelling story that gives us a clear vision of what Scrooge should be, how he became the man he is, and how he lost himself only to find himself again with the help of three precocious boys and a cynical 30 something duck. So taint all bad is what i’m saying. As for how this got started, thankfully rosa himself provided the origin story for this project in the back of the volume of his works that contained the first 7 chapters of life and times, as well as detailed notes for every chapter. At the time Rosa was working for Egmont, the big european publisher who handles Disney’s much larger european comics market, hence why most of his stories appeared years earlier in Europe before debuting here. The american publisher at the time , and an old friend of his, called Rosa with an idea: A 12 issue Maxi-Series focusing on Scrooge’s history, since at the time they were all the rage.. and really even today mini series are still a viable market and many indie titles just have several minis instead of an ongoing. So it wasn’t a bad idea, Rosa just simply offered a tweak: He’d tell his publisher at Egmont about the idea, and let her get a crack team of writers and artists to do this proper, and thus Disney could publish it for free once it was done and for no extra cost. Rosa gave his publisher a fax detaling both the idea and the fact that it needed to be done right, given to the best person possible, and done with the greatest care. She agreed.. and naturally handed it to him, as he admits he hoped. She made the right call, a legend was born and here we are. One last bit before the read more and before I get to the first story itself at last: Since barks wrote a lot of side stories that fit into the canon, I COULD slot them in between chapters, but have instead chosen to review the original 12 part story as was, and do the various side stories and two epilogues, the utterly fantastic “Dream of a Life Time”, easiliy one of my faviorite comics ever, and the also really great “Letter From Home”, which will likely on some level be the basis for the upcoming at the time of this review “Battle for Castle McDuck!”, after completing the story. In other words i’m probably going to be at this for years. so join me under the read more won’t you as I begin the journey of a thousand miles with a single step as we look at the humble start of a legend.
We begin, after a fun short teaser with present Day scrooge saying his past is no one’s buisness only to get hit with an oh yeah?, with a scrap book title for the issue, something I want to bring up since while I got that’s what it was what I never got, and must’ve glanced over when I first read rosa’s notes when I got this copy, was that it isn’t SCROOGE’S scrap book, but his sister Matilda’s who dutifully and happily catologued her brother’s adventures. It’s a really sweet moment.. and something that will hit VERY hard when we reach Chapter 11. If you haven’t read this story or heard of it.. .that’s this story’s equilvent of “Last Crash of the Sunchaser” and clearly Frank and Matt drew from that story a bit for it, but we can get more into the parallels when we get there. A smaller but fun note is that Rosa had specific coin drawing templates, for different indentions and what not he used, and used them for the coins in these intro bits. Yes he admitted he has a problem and yes that’s damn impressive anyway.
It’s Scrooge’s 10th birthday, and his father Fergus has taken him up to see the family land, Dismal Downs to tell him of the mighty Clan McDuck and show him the ancestral lands, graveyards and Castle. He admits to having taken this long because the Clan McDuck currently lives in Glasgow so it’s kind of a long trip just to show your son “Hey look at the decay and rot that’s our ancestral homeland”. The Clan is on hard times, as a bad shipping deal, the backbone of a rather good barks story and I wont’ be interjecting for every barks reference as it’d get rather tiring though for what it’s worth Rosa provided tons of detailed footnotes in the back of each Fantagraphics collection, so good on him. Speaking of which though they do include 10 pages of Mc Duck family history that was supposed to open this story.. until Rosa’s editor wisely pointed out the story isn’t about them but scrooge and having read his roug draft, yeah.. there’s a good gag here and there, as well as “Dirty” Dingus McDuck, scrooge’s Grandpa and the reason Dewey is cursed with that middle name. Why anyone thought Dingus was a good name is beyond me, nor why Donald thought that was a good middle name back in 2009 is again, beyond me. Good on Don though for getting that past the censors. But yeah with no money they can’t buy the land back and they were scared off it years ago by a mystical ghost dog, the hound of the whiskervilles. There is treasure in the castle, Sir Quackly’s gold, but he accidently sealed himself into a wall while sealing his treasure in there. Their interrupted by the town assholes, the Whiskervilles who have been grazing sheep on the land and are naturally behind the hound, using the sound of it to scare off Fergus once they realize he’s a McDuck. Because apparently you can keep a Scooby Doo style hoax up for Centuries if you don’t have meddling kids around. Who knew. Back in Glasgow, we meet the rest of Scrooge’s family: His Uncle Jake, his sisters Matilda and Hortense, and his mother Downy. Jake hasn’t really been mentioned at all in Ducktales and I know next to nothing about him, which given I share a name with the guy you’d THINK I would. I mean I know a decent amount about this Jake.
But nothing about who the hell Jake McDuck is or why he lives with his brother and his family. Here, you guys watch the dancing Jake, i’m going to probably do that for hours after this review is done, i’m going to go sort this out. Okay one google and finding the Scrooge Mcduck wiki page on him, Jake shows up here likely because he was referenced in the story “A Christmas For Shacktown” and apparently borrowed from Scrooge and never paid it back. Otherwise.. there’s not a lot about him and unlike the rest of Scrooge’s family he really dosen’t do much that I can remember. Except like 2017 Scrooge, he apparently has become extremely long lived, as Scrooge and Donald STILL think he’s alive in the 1950′s.. and likely is STILL alive in some form in the Don Rosa stories, given his take place after Barks and thus in the 40′s and 50′s where Barks stories were set. Hence why unlike the Reboot, Scrooge isn’t inexpecilbly over 210. But Jake McDuck sure as heck is. Maybe this highlander is a highlander.. you know the movie and tv show type. Maybe someone cut off his head. That’s what i’m going with.
This does bring me to another point about this story: While Barks gave all of scrooge’s family their names, it’s where Rosa got them after all, it’s Rosa who really made them into characters. Fergus as a loving father ashamed his family legacy has fallen and wanting his son to do better than him, Downy as an equally loving wife and mother, Matilda as his sweet and caring sister and later her brother’s moral center, and Hortense.. well here she’s just a babbling baby but her character will become clear and glorious as we go. She is adorable here though and we do get some great bits with her. Getting back to the plot now i’ve made my points, Jake is riled up wanting to understandably kick the Whiskerville’s asses with Scrooge, who even as a sweet innocent ten year old still has the family temper already, agreeing.. but Downy gently shoots them out pointing that two middle aged-ish men and a 10-year old just aren’t enough to fight an army of them and while she doesn’t mention it the fight would just tire them out for work and accomplish nothing as while it is the McDuck’s land the combination of the hound and the lack of money to move back means it’s pointless. She also mentions their younger brother Pothole, who went to America. This will be important later.
Scrooge storms off and Fergus laments, in a scene that’s more painful the more I think about it, how his clan has fallen, with he and his brother lamenting their chances at glory are long gone.. but Fergus has hope his son can do better, and for his son’s birthday makes him a shoeshine kit in the hopes of inspiring him to greatness. This scene still resonates since many of us are poor, struggling and not doing so good money wise. I’m sure many parents have doubts and regrets about not being able to do more for their kid.
Not only that but the story carefully avoids the trap of Fergus accidently being abusive by you know, pinning his family’s future on one 10 year old. While yes he is asking a lot of Scrooge, to restore their family name.. it’s very clear he mostly just wants his son to do better than him. Even if Scrooge was just slightly more successful, Fergus would likely be happy with that. He’s not using the legacy as a “This what you must be” like say the Gems in steven universe did for Steven with Rose’s Legacy, the kind where it sort of suffocates you till youc an make it your own. He’s just saying “this is what you can be” He believes his child can be great and simply once him to reach his full potetial and is simply giving him a means to hopefully do so, a simple home made shoe shine kit. While Jake scoffs, the narration notes the idea isn’t worth a dime.. it’s worth THE dime. The dime that would set Scrooge’s destiny in motion.
The next morning, Fergus goes to check up on his son and his new buisness but Scroogey’s having no luck and about ready to just quit, the poor child. Also Matilda is dragging her baby sister around like a doll and it’s entirely precious as it is funny.
But as for those Dorty Boots, Matilda wonders why her dad dosen’t just tell Scrooge that Burt the Ditch Digger is coming. Fergus tells her to quite and then explains his plan: he’s sending Burt to scrooge, with an American dime Fergus and Matilda found, to teach his son a lesson: By giving him a hard days work, he’ll teach him what hard work truly means.. and by having Burt “cheat” him with the American dime, it’ll give him the motivation to keep going and to nto be as wide eyed and trusting. It’s a well meaning if harsh lesson, and the kind you’d expect from 1900′s parenting and fits the origin well: Scrooge still earned his first money square, as he still did work.. but his getting cheated being a lesson dosen’t diminish what it taught scrooge, and helps flesh out what I talked about above, Fergus knowing his son has great potential he just needs inspiration to reach it. And instead of just telling him that he does a con job but it’s the 1900′s. This orign, and Fergus’ part in it would be entirely untouched in Ducktales 2017, the first scrooge based adaptation since this comic came out, and I bless them for it. Frank even said this comic was used as a bible by the writers and while theirs clear deviations, and we’ll get to that, they were mainly done for good reason, and it’s very clear that while scrooge’s history is very VERY diffrent in the reboot, the core of his past is still there.
So the plan is on and young scrooge spends half an hour killing himself to get Burt’s shoes clean before getting his dime.. and realizing he’s been had, makes this proud decleration that will be the bedrock of his entire life and character.
Scrooge being naturally stubborn as you can see takes his cheats a leson: There will always be hard honest work, and he will be there to do it and he’ll be tougher and sharper than anyone trying to cheat him out of his pay. Fergus’ plan has the intended effect, and Scrooge having learned a hard lesson now has the drive and determination we know him for. As for why it gives it to him.. I had to think on it a bit but it makes sense: For some a setback like this would make them quit.. for Scrooge it’s just proof he CAN find customers, he CAN do this job, or any at his hardest and instead takes this as a lesson to be prepared ot out think and outfight anyone who dares cheat him again, and to not earn his money by being the kind of guy who cheats a kid out of an honest days pay, but as a good honest duck like his father and his father before him. =He will make his money square so he can be the kind of person this seeming stranger SHOULD have been. Granted we’ll see Scrooge doesn’t end up as the best person at times but .. we’ll get there. So with the fire inside turned from a spark into the flame Scrooge soon got to work, and by the next panel we see he’s eventually worked his stand up from a small box given to him by his dad, to a three seater shoeshining bench, who he wipes all at once by stretching one of his mother’s girldes over a light pole, a detail I didn’t get the first time around but now love. Naturally being a good kind boy much like his Nephews, Scrooge always gave his proud father a portion of his earnings, if with a full receipt for tax purposes. Because he’s still scrooge after all. His dad wonders he did too good a job while Hortense glxbit’s in agreement.
As the years go on, a now tween Scrooge is eventually able to save up for a horse cart, and starts selling Fire Wood up in the city. He eventually realizes Peat, an earthy subtance found in bogs I only know about because I had to look it up for this review, is more profitable and with some snappy marketing moves into selling Peat for the rich instead, also showing the young lad already has a grasp of how to sell to obnoxious rich people.
But while his business is booming, our young hero can’t resist visiting his family’s ancestral home and longing for it, hoping one day to have it for himself and in a nice show of how despite his temper and tenacity forged over the last few years he’s still at hear the kind, sweet optimistic lad he was just a few pages ago, he decides to tidy up the Clan’s Cemetary while he’s here.
Unfortunately as proof that Donald and Della’s terrible luck comes from both sides of the family the Whiskervilles are sub-glomgold levels of human beings.. or Dogfaces in this case, and are digging up the McDuck Clan’s graves to hunt for treasure. Scrooge tries to simply do the smart thing and flee, but the asshole brigade catch sight of him and mistkaing him for a peat burgalar chase after him.. and spend WAY too much time and energy chasing a teenage boy over some fucking bog grass you clearly aren’t selling yourselves. I mean spare a thought for how dumb this is: They could easily sell of of that peat to put up a fence or chop down some trees to get the material if their really that concerned about someone getting in the bog. Then again this isn the 1800 and 1900′s where the child death toll was simply “Yes”, so they likely thought whose gonna notice one more dead child on our property?
Scrooge heads toward the castle and is gestured in by a friendly mystery duck who gladly shows him around and can tell he’s a McDuck just by look, showing the castle is still in glorious condition as the whiskervilles are too spooked to go in, hence why they didn’t chase Scrooge inside. I’d say being afraid of ghosts but not murdering a child is weird but these are the same guys who thought murdering a child was plan A. We’re not dealing with a brain trust is what i’m saying. So the mystery duck shows Scroogey around, showing off some colorful stories about his ancestors recycled from that scrapped prologue I mentioned. THe mystery man, who brushes off Scrooge thinking he’s a McDuck asks Scrooge what he’s doing to restore the family glory and while Scrooge points out he’s already working on it, Mystery Duck points out he’s still missing something: He has the drive and the dream, but peat and shoeshining, while getting him good money for his family, aren’t the thing you can build a fortune or a future off of. He then points out where Scrooge’s dime comes from: America.. and that gives the boy the idea to head to the states. As for what he could possibly DO there to start, the mystery guy mentions his uncle pothole. So Scrooge has the dream, the drive.. and now a plan: Go to america, work for his uncle on the riverboats, and work his way up from there till he finds his fortune and restores his family name. But while his future is settled, the present is still an issue and Scrooge wants to teach the child murder club a lesson and thus borrows, though MM wisely points out it’s all his property a horse and some armor, and stuffs the armor with peat. As for what his plan is.. welllll
That.. is fucking awesome. And far from the last fucking awesome moment in this thing. It also shows off even as not quite a teen yet, Scrooge is still a badass already, and while he doesn’t have his trademark strength or fighting skills quite yet, his ingenuity is already there.. and that will always trump both. The Whiskervilles run away and into some quicksand and Scrooge vows to return one day as laird and reclaim his family land. But that’s a story for a few chapters down the line. As for who the mystery duck is, he’s naturally Sir Quackely himself, or rather his ghost, who was simply guiding Scrooge and didn’t give him the treasure as simply handing him the money wouldnn’t restore their family’s good name or continue their bloodline now would it?
For now Scrooge returns to work for a bit before finding his way to America: A cattleboat to New Orleans looking for a Cabin Boy. And so Scrooge bids farewell to his family. His Dad, feeling bad he can’t even give his boy shilling, gives him the family pocketwatch with jake pitching in with the family gold dentures. While Scrooge naturally refuses to sell the watch, he does plan to sell the teeth as soon as possible for good reason. We then get some sweet goodbyes with him, his sisters (With hortense uttering her first words to everyone’s astonishment) and loving mother as he wonders just what awaits him in America.
And there he stands on the bow of a ship, heading for a new land, in New Orleans he can be a new man. And we’ll see just what kind of man he becomes as this series continues. For now this is the end of a chapter but the beginning of a lifetime.
Final Thoughts on Last of the Clan McDuck:
This story is excellent. While there are even better chapters to come, this one is still one of the most memorable and most joyous, showing just how Scrooge became what he is, where some of his values come from, others will be instilled along the way , and beginning to flesh out his family. We see Scrooge’s love of wealth comes from starting from the bottom, growing up with a family that barely had anything and badly needed everything, but was loving and instilled fine morals in him. We also see a Scrooge far removed from the bitter old man he is in present day, an optimistic naïve young lad who only wants best for his family. It’s a nice stark contrast to who he’ll become, good and bad, and a nice way to both compare him to Huey Dewey and Louie and break your heart as his own hardens before briefly turning black later on. The art, as is standard for this series and Rosa, is breathtaking, and the story isn’t lacking in good jokes, their just downplayed so the story itself can take center stage. There’s nothing really more to say: it’s an excellent start to an even more excellent tale and stands proud among an already stellar story as one of it’s finest outings.
NEXT RAINBOW: Scrooge goes down to the mighty Missipi to work on the riverboats and meets one of his signature Rogue’s for the first time in their first form, as well as Gyro’s dad.. or grandpa.. or possibly both I don’t know his family tree. Point is, tune in next time for some riverboat hyjinks. Until then if you’d like to comission an episode of any animated show, especially ducktales and the various other duck related disney shows, or another Duck Comics story you really like from Rosa, Barks or whoever you want really, I take commissions for 5 dollars a review, with 5 dollars off your full order when you put in for more than one episode or issue. You can also follow me on patreon.com/popculturebuffet and for just two bucks a month get access to polls (which i’ll start once we have at least three patreons), and my exclusive discord server. And if you liked this review be sure to reblog it to show off. My self promotion done until next time: There’s always another rainbow.
#scrooge mcduck#don rosa#ducktales#the life and times of scrooge mcduck#fergus mcduck#downy mcduck#hortense mcduck#hortense duck#matilda mcduck#jake mcduck#uncle scrooge#duck comics#disney duck comics#carl barks
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Love Rune
For @sleepy-sendhelp
Summary: With their honeymoon over Jem, Tessa, and Will now have to return back to their kingdoms and face the reveal of their years-long hidden relationship.
Read it on ao3
----------Chapter One: Prologue-----------
Will rolled over and immediately heard the grumbles from Tessa and Jem in protest. Four hands pulled the Shadowhunter back into his spot between the other two.
“Too early,” grumbled Jem into Will’s shoulder.
“Little longer,” Tessa supported as she wrapped her arm around Will’s waist, snuggling closer into him. She opened her eyes and smiled at the sight of both of her husbands basking in the morning’s light. Tessa allowed herself to soak in the warmth and tranquillity the moment radiated.
“Just a bit more,” Will conceded and fell into the loving caresses. His wife and husband were never morning people and while at times that allowed him to make them breakfast undisturbed, on days like today it meant that they would do anything to keep him in bed with them.
“How do you think they’ll react?” Jem quietly asked, finally opening his eyes. He unconsciously started to trace the fresh and still evolving love rune on Will’s shoulder. “It’s not like they can reverse it but they won’t be pleased.”
“They’ll have to figure out how to live with it,” Will huffed and pulled Jem closer.
“This isn’t for them to dictate,” Tessa replied as the sleep and serenity of the previous moment faded away. She shifted to free her other hand from underneath Will’s pillow, and reached towards Jem, running her hand through his hair. “We won’t give them the chance to tear us apart, right?”
“Right,” both Will and Jem confirmed.
They laid there for a few more moments switching back to their honeymoon phase and whispering promises of love and courage to each other. The three of them had known that eloping in secret would cause shock through the whole of the Shadow World. Still, after years of secret dates and stolen glances in public, the trio had decided enough was enough.
Thanks to an unceremonious removal of the previous king; and quick placement of his son on the throne, the Warlock Kingdom had become a peaceful one. With the change in leadership, the kingdom had begun to form alliances with other kingdoms. The most volatile yet important of those being between Edom, the Warlock Kingdom, and Alicante, the Kingdom of Shadowhunters.
Before the Lake Lynn Treaty, both kingdoms were often at each other’s borders bringing different threats of war and conflict; neither side’s hands were clean during those days.
Jem and Will both fought in the front lines for Alicante during some of the skirmishes, while Tessa strategized and aided in the coop to allow the Prince of Edom to overthrow his father. Their paths didn’t cross till the first time a white flag was waved at Lake Lynn, and kingdom representatives for both sides met.
Tessa remembered the first time she saw them as she walked into the tent, Jem was wrapping and tending to Will’s wounds while they had waited for the meeting to begin. She had heard of the duo’s prowess on the battlefield, from Jem’s calculating nature to Will’s brute strength. Edom knew their names well.
The crackle of magic disrupted their peaceful bubble pulling them back to the present.
Tessa sighed as she caught the fire message and immediately recognized the magic.
‘I hope the union went well but our kingdom is restless without you here and Lorenzo keeps forgetting himself. Please consider returning soon.’
She chuckled at the message from King Bane.
“Good news?” Jem inquired.
“Just Magnus being his usual dramatic self,” Tessa responded as she released Will from her hold and pushed herself into a sitting position. “Apparently the Warlock Court is falling apart without my presence.”
“Aren’t they like decades old? Why are they acting like children?” Will asked as he rolled over to at least keep Jem in his hold. He was prepared to get up earlier, but now that he felt how cold the world outside the blankets was, he was rethinking that idea.
“Will we’ve talked about this. It is rude to inquire about a warlocks' age,” Jem reprimanded.
“Yes it is Jem, but Will is right they do act like children at times,” Tessa giggled, and saw the tiny nod from Will to signify ‘See told you so.���
“So guess we chose the right time to come back,” Jem noted as he ran his hands through Will’s hair, tugging at times to try and get him to get out of bed. “Do they know where we are?”
“I doubt they thought we would use my personal cottage as a hideout when we returned,” Tessa said, playing with the fire message’s paper in her hands. “The fire message simply sought my magic out.”
“Did he send you some before?” Will asked not remembering any fire messages while on the honeymoon.
“No, I had my magic basically create a return to sender block,” Tessa answered as she pulled the robe from the hook near her. “Even if anyone did try I wouldn’t know. If Magnus wanted to get a hold of me he knows how.”
“The Clave is going to be so angry when we show up today,” Will groaned. “They are gonna make a spectacle of it.”
“Don’t you mean you will at the first snide comment?” Jem corrected as he slipped out of bed and stretched out as he stood.
“No need for the call out,” Will pouted and sighed sitting up. It always ended like this when he was coaxed back into bed. The jerks always left him alone when they wanted but forbade him to get out of the bed first.
“Behave today,” Tessa called out as she had already made her way to the bathroom to begin her morning routine,“I don’t want to hear through Lorenzo’s gossip that there was a fight in Alicante.”
“Please you’d hear it from Jem first,” Will stated as he smirked. “Our Jem would probably fire message you before I even threw the first punch.”
Tessa and Jem both rolled their eyes at that. They both knew how protective and rash their Herondale could be at times.
“Don’t worry Tess, I’ll keep him in line,” Jem assured her.
-------------Chapter Two: Storge--------------
“Finally decided to grace us with your attendance?” Jax’s snide comment greeted Tessa as the portal closed behind her.
Tessa had hoped that portaling straight into her wing of the council's building would allow her to avoid most people but it seemed luck wasn’t on her side today.
“Ah, Jax I didn’t know you were going to be visiting today,” Tessa responded with a fake smile. She didn’t exactly detest Jax but she was well aware of his drive to become one of the King’s trusted court members. Jax never missed a chance to shine a light on anyone’s shortcomings.
“Someone had to upkeep things after your little M.I.A. stunt,” Jax responded. “Edom should be our priority.”
“I made the King aware of my absence,” Tessa defended herself, rolling her eyes. “I don’t need to explain myself to anyone but him.”
“Even so I heard you didn’t even provide a return date,” he continued, annoyance starting to bleed into his voice.
“Jax, are you speaking for me again?” Magnus’ voice rang through the corridor. “I thought I demonstrated with Lorenzo how much I detest that. I am capable of maintaining my own court members.”
“Of course your majesty,” Jax paled as he answered, quickly scampering away after excusing himself.
“See what I had to deal with while you were gone?” Magnus whined and pouted at one of his closest friends.
“I warned you,” Tessa replied with a smile. “I told you to contact Catarina in my absence.”
“You could’ve told me where you were,” Magnus continued to poke.
“Is this you asking me where I was, your majesty?”
“I am asking,” Magnus confirmed. “We are about to hold court Tessa, I will always favor you but you took off for a month with no explanation. Please Tessa give me a leg to stand on and defend you.”
Tessa looked at Magnus and sighed. She knew he wasn’t asking to be malicious but still she didn’t know how her friend would react to this.
“I was away getting married,” Tessa confirmed as she unglamoured the bracelet that held the wedded and love rune. She was a warlock and couldn’t bear them so Will and Jem had made the piece of jewelry specifically for her.
“Are those runes from Shadowhunters?” Magnus asked, his voice measured. “Tessa, did you hide so you could wed someone from Alicante?”
“I went away so that I could wed Jem Carstairs and Will Herondale,” Tessa confirmed. She knew Magnus would never stand in her way but she also knew that this could cause a conflict of interest in the court.
“Both Carstairs and Herondale,” Magnus repeated and looked over the bracelet again. He noticed the shifting love rune and watched it as the rune settled.
Storge
“You’ve known them both for a while,” Magnus stated. He had studied Alicante customs for long enough to recognize their runes. “From my memory, you three were together for the peace meetings years ago.”
“That’s where we met,” Tessa confirmed and noticed the King’s stare on the love rune’s current form. While the most common was the agape rune, Jem had explained to her that the love rune would morph between the eight different love runes. In Shadowhunters’ culture if your love rune shifted it confirmed the Angel’s blessing of the union. Will had only told her of a few cases where the rune never shifted for a Shadowhunter.
“I’ve read it usually takes close to a year before the rune shifts,” Magnus commented as he waved her to follow him as he led them to the Warlock Court’s meeting room. “That must be some union for their Angel to accept it so fast.”
“I will admit it was startling at first,” Tessa smiled, recalling the courting attempts of her Shadowhunter husbands. “It was a clear example of how different our cultures are. Did you know they give blades as courting gifts?”
“Blades? What use would that even have?” Magnus questioned.
“Well they are a society of warriors,” Tessa continued as she opened the door for the King. “For them keeping their partner safe in battle by providing them with high-quality weapons is a great honor. Receiving a gift like that is an envied gesture. The Shadowhunter accepting it will display the weapon and use it for battles during the courting period.”
“So you have one?”
“I do but they were careful with the blade,” she motioned to the hip holster she now kept unglamoured. “Will wanted to get a broadsword apparently, but luckily Jem talked him down to a small pocket dagger.”
“Lucky for us,” Magnus chuckled as he took his seat at the head of the table. He watched as Tessa took her seat next to him and sighed rubbing his hands over his face. “You know they will ask for your removal.”
“Will you allow it?”
“I will do my best to avoid it but I won’t be like my father and force my will upon my court,” Magnus explained. He knew that he had already shown too much nepotism toward Tessa. “I am happy you found love my friend but peace is still fragile. I wish you had confided in me before committing. I don’t want you to come to regret that love.”
“I could never regret loving Jem and Will,” Tessa answered, tracing her bracelet with a finger. “I will handle whatever the others have prepared to de-seat me.“
Magnus smiled and looked into the fire sparking in Tessa’s eyes. He felt bad for whatever the court's members decided to question her about. She had held her seat through the previous King’s court, led a coop, and secured an initial treaty with Alicante, and those achievements weren’t easily traversed.
-----------Chapter Three: Mania------------
“Jem!” a young Shadowhutner tore through the command center. He had one mission in mind. Retrieve Will Herondale’s parabatai and apparently husband before he lost his own parabatai. Only Jem could calm Will right now. “Carstairs! Jem!”
Jem felt the burning anger from his parabatai rune and looked at the love rune on his forearm shifting between the mania rune and storge rune. The mania rune raised a high concern in him. That meant possessiveness. But why would Tess or Will be possessive? His partners had no need to feel jealous and he liked to believe that they had good communication.
“JEM!!!!” the Shadowhunter broke through Jem’s office door. “Jem! Get Will!”
Jem shot up and strode toward the panting boy. He didn’t have a good feeling about what was happening. He pulled the boy up from his collar and spoke. “Where?”
“Training room 2!” the Shadowhunter doubled down in pain and clutched at the parabatai rune on his wrist. “My parabatai angered him.”
“Of course they did,” Jem bit back before dropping the Shadowhunter to get his parabatai. He could still feel the seething anger consuming their bond. Jem turned the corner to the training rooms and immediately heard the cheers and yelling coming from one of them.
He pushed his way through the crowd. Most Shadowhunters moved away once they realized who he was; no one wanted to be in the way of a parabatai duo.
“What’s wrong? I don’t have magic gear on,” Will taunted as he kicked the Shadowhunter. “Wasn’t that the only reason I was the best? Come on Adam!” Will circled his prey, eyes flicking around trying to guess the best next move.
“Fuck you Herondale! Your demon probably gave you a potion or something!” Adam stupidly shot back. “I bet the treaty was just the first step and you three will have us become pets to them! Just like you and Jem are now!”
“Adam you are really trying to get a beating today,” Will grinned as he broke through Adam’s block, landing a hit straight to the Shadowhunter’s abdomen. “Want to keep talking nonsense?”
“What nonsense? You married a demon and your own parabatai!” Adam continued, pushing himself off the floor before getting back to his stance. “I bet the love rune shifting is just her magic messing with the Angel’s blessing.”
Will growled and dropped low, sweeping his leg under Adam, causing the idiotic Shadowhunter to fall once again. He quickly delivered another direct kick to Adam’s stomach before he felt a hand resting on his shoulder. Will thought it was Adam’s parabatai again but stopped when he saw Jem’s eyes staring back at him.
“Will, you said you wouldn’t fight,” Jem sighed as he looked over to Adam’s parabatai trying to quickly apply some iratze runes to his parabatai. “Tess won’t be happy.”
“It’s not my fault the academy is giving us idiots to train,” Will huffed, “Someone has to set them right.”
“What even happened?” Jem questioned as he looked over his husband to check for any wounds. It seemed like the other wasn't able to land a single hit.
“I would like to know that as well, cousin,” a new voice broke through the crowd. “Wonder what my parabatai will say when I tell him the new training rooms were being used as a fight club.”
Will grimaced as he turned and faced his younger cousin, Jace. “Who summoned you?”
“Aww can’t I drop in on my older cousin?” Jace pouted in mock hurt, “Words around Alicante say that I have two new cousins-in-law.”
Will groaned at the joy he saw running through the younger Herondale’s eyes. Ever since Alec Lightwood, Jace’s parabatai took the Consul seat in The Clave; Jace hadn’t missed a chance to brag about his parabatai’s position.
“Did Lightworm send you to derune us?” Will asked, still defensive.
“You think Alec would send your own cousin to derune you?” Jace asked and looked at Will as if he was dumb. “Please, he’d send a whole army if he meant to derune a Herondale. Alec isn’t that stupid.”
“At least there is hope for the future Lightworms,” Will continued and sighed, finally relaxing a bit. “So why are you here actually?”
“Consul Lightwood sent me in order to congratulate you both and make it known that he endorses your union, just like the Angel does,” Jace stated clearly and loudly making sure to deliver the warning, “Looks like I might have to make an incident report already.”
Adam and his parabatai both paled at Jace’s gaze on them.
Jem sighed and watched as the Herondale cousins tortured the parabatai duo with threats. Luckily like Will, Jace had Alec to reign him in, if needed. He pulled his Stele out and sent out a fire message to Tessa, in case she was watching the love rune and wondering what was happening.
----------Chapter Four: Epilogue-----------
Jem sighed looking around as he slipped his blade back into the ornate cane, a courting gift from Will. He watched his husband retrieve a few salvageable throwing knives from the fallen demons. Jem didn’t know why his parabatai bothered with it but waited nonetheless.
“Those were the last ones, right?” Will asked, rolling his shoulder back and activating his own iratze rune.
“Tonight’s hunt ends with these,” Jem confirmed and felt the exhaustion from the fights start to take over, “We should head home.”
“Home,” Will repeated with a childish smile, “That means Tess’ cottage right?”
“Our cottage,” Jem corrected with a soft smile. They had agreed that all three would move in with Tessa and share her old cottage in the outskirts of Edom. It made sure none of them resided in Edom or Alicante. It was a precaution they took in case things didn’t go as smooth and accepting when they revealed their relationship.
“Do you think Tess is home already?” Will asked longingly.
“Why don’t we see?” Jem suggested as he pulled out the necklace Tessa had given him as her courting gift. The necklace worked as a single person portal back to their cottage, the perfect match to the ring that she had gifted Will, both enchanted with the same spell. Tessa had wanted to ensure they would always have a way back to her.
“Right!” Will agreed, holding out his hand and watching as it started to glow with Tessa’s magic stored in it. He smiled at the warm licks of her magic before they subsided to create a very small portal, barely big enough for the Shadowhunter to jump into. He looked over and watched his husband enter his own portal, and he quickly passed through his own after Jem.
“Welcome home,” Tessa’s soft voice greeted them as the warmth of the fireplace wrapped and coaxed them further into the cottage, “I see my gift was of use.”
Jem and Will immediately found themselves on the couch, with Tessa in the middle of them.
“I heard you had an interesting day,” Tessa teased, as she let her magic sweep over both of her husbands, seeking any lingering injuries their iratzes might’ve not healed.
“Tattle tell,” Will grumbled at Jem as he felt the warm strands of his wife’s magic sweep over him. He closed his eyes and hummed into the warm buzz that followed every magical caress.
“She would’ve found out either way,” Jem defended himself and kissed Will’s cheek before settling his head on Tessa’s shoulder. He watched as the sparks float around them. Tessa’s magic was always soft like her touches, careful and tender.
“Let’s leave the fighting for another day,” Tessa resolved and settled in her spot on the couch, nestled on both sides by her husbands. Soon she heard Jem's soft snores, closely followed by Will’s yawn. Tessa closed her eyes and wished she had the foresight to have led them all to bed before this happened. Will and Jem always came back dead tired and running on adrenaline and runes alone. She should’ve foreseen this scenario.
With the last of her consciousness, Tessa summoned a thick duvet to cover them all and snuggled back into her spot between the parabatai duo. Today was conquered and the future didn’t look as bleak as it did the previous night.
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my high hopes (are getting low)
2.6k words [total 13k words] (part one) (part two) (part three) | AO3 Link | warnings: homophobia, use of slurs, dubious morality, completely unnecessary religious references, implied/referenced self-harm
‘Cause my High hopes are getting low because these people are so old The way they think about it all If I tried I would never know
Light Yagami's world view is shifted after a conversation with his father concerning L's sexuality. Anger in his veins and unconfessed feelings bubbling to the surface, L and Light have a chat about sexuality, morality, and homoerotic hand washing.
~
Light entered the task force headquarters quietly. There was no one sitting in front of the large monitors for once, but they were still streaming the footage from the cameras in everyone's room. He looked up and on a smaller screen he saw L’s room; the detective quietly working on his laptop.
Walking to the elevator with purpose, Light rode it up to the floor L was staying on. The path to his room he had taken so many times over the months they were chained together, he wouldn’t be surprised if his footsteps were burned into the hotel-esque carpet he was walking under.
He stood outside L’s door, and it was only then that Light felt a slight nervousness creeping over him, hovering behind him. He sent Ryuk away (distracting the flighty Shinigami with a basket of apples in a blindspot of the cameras) so he knew it was his own anxieties over the looming conversation with the man.
“The worst he can say is no,” Light told himself.
He punched in the code to enter the room. The lock clicked and Light walked in, immediately meeting L’s gaze, his wide eyes narrowed with confusion.
“Light,” He said simply, closing the lid of his laptop, “I was mildly concerned about where you had run off to since you did not return with the others,”
Light shrugged, “Am I not free now to leave headquarters whenever I want? I am not chained to Matsuda,”
L pressed his thumb to his lips, “Yes, I feel as though there would be even more physical altercations between you two than there were with us.” Light didn’t respond, and his eyes scanned the room, noting how the room had changed. The typically neat coffee table was now scattered with papers in L’s messy handwriting. The bed which Light himself really only slept in seemed to be untouched since the last time he was in it.
L’s cross the room, shoving his hands in his pockets, “It is late, Light, and you have your own room. Did Watari forget something when he transferred your belongings into your space?”
Chuckling, Light shook his head, “A few days ago we were together 24/7, now it feels like you are trying to get rid of me.” L’s expression was unreadable, so Light continued, “I actually wanted to talk to about something, Ryuzaki,”
“Oh. Is this in regards to the Death Note?”
“Oh, uh, no. This actually has nothing to do with the case,” This surprised L, his expression flickered with an emotion Light could not place, “Forgive me for assuming, but were you tapped into the conversation that the rest of the detectives and myself had at Shirokuma?”
L rubbed his feet on top of each other, looking pointedly away from Light, “I choose not to come to the bar with you guys, why would I know what was discussed?”
“That is not what I asked, Ryuzaki,”
L bit his lip and sighed, making his way over to his laptop. Light followed as he was inputting his password, “Fine. I was able to tap into the bar security system and observed you all using the cameras there. There is no audio.”
Light smiled in spite of himself. His suspicions about L observing them had been on the mark as usual. He knew the man all too well.
“Well, at one point, in the conversation, we began discussing you.”
“Naturally.” L tapped his lips with his index finger.
“And Aizawa told us something, Ryuzaki, something that he was told by Wedy and Aiber,” L’s tics stopped immediately. HIs face flickered with that same emotion from before, but this time it lasted longer, and Light could now see it was panic on the young detective's face. “I am sure you can piece together what was discussed,”
L crossed the room, staring at an old blackboard that had information about the Yotsuba group. Light could sense the nerves radiating off of L, but he was doing his best to act unaffected by the news.
“I felt as though disclosing my sexuality to everyone would cause unnecessary problems. I have kept it to myself for long enough, I have gotten quite good at hiding that part of me away. Moreover, my preferences are not important to the Kira case, so there was no reason to bring it up in the first place,” He faced away from the board and looked at Light, sorrow in his expression, “I will not apologise for that. However, I do want to apologise to you, specifically, Light,” L bit his thumbnail, looking down at the carpet, “I realise now that being handcuffed to someone who you now realise is attracted to the same gender could be seen as uncouth. I would be lying if I said the implications of it had not crossed my mind a couple times. I did not want to bring it up because I feared it would have created unnecessary tension, and I assumed you would never find out. I am sorry, Light,”
Light shrugged, “I am going to be honest, I never would have guessed,”
“Like I said before, I am good at hiding aspects of myself away for the comfort of others,” L expression changed when he told Light; the eye contact was more intense and vengeful, and Light got the feeling they were not talking about queerness anymore.
“Ryuzaki, I want to assure you your apology is unnecessary. I completely see why you did not disclose that information to me. You have a right to your privacy.” He sighed, sitting down on the bed, “I am only sorry that you got outed,”
L stayed silent and Light inspected the laces on his shoes, wanting to take them off but not wanting to look as though he was getting too comfortable around L- this was a difficult conversation to have and he wouldn’t blame him if he kicked Light out at a moment’s notice.
“I can only assume the others did not take it well, and that is why you are here,” L stiffly shoved his hands in his pockets, Light could only assume it was to prevent himself from biting his nails down the stubs- a bad habit he noticed of L’s after their months together. L interpreted Light’s silence and sighed, rubbing his feet over one another, “Hm. Well. I suppose it could have ended worse,”
“Ended?”
L sat down next to Light on the bed, maybe a little too closely, but it somehow felt too far. L blinked slowly at Light, and he felt a harsh pang in his heart looking L in the eyes, “Us, the detectives, you and I… We will be parting ways soon.”
The silence hanging over the room was palpable. Light wasn’t sure how to respond. He knew he was right. Just hours beforehand, he was working and making plans for L’s demise, “Ryuzaki.” Light kept looking at L, “It doesn’t have to be that way,”
L looked at Light, vulnerability and heartbreak in his eyes, “There was never any other way,”
Even though he was unable to place precisely why, he felt his anger rising, Light clenched his fists, venom dripping in his voice , “Why are you speaking like this, Ryuzaki? Stop talking like it’s over, like you have no choice,”
L pressed a thumb against his lips, softly speaking, “Well, it is no longer up to me, is it, Light?”
They had been at this impasse for a while now, ever since those many months ago when L revealed himself to Light at To-Oh. The task force may believe his act of innocence, and Misa may believe he is just being clever, but L and Light have known the truth for a very long time. So much has happened since then, so much has changed. It is hard to say whether or not Light had evolved after all this time, and Light still believed that after all everything, he is still the same. And yet, the hard truth is, deep down, Light has changed. Maybe it is the conversation he had with the task force and Ryuk only hours earlier, maybe it is the months of being together, maybe it is the greys in his morality that were previously drained from Light’s world coming back as quickly as it did when his memory of the Death Note were returned; Light was looking this complicated, quiet man in the eyes- Hideki Ryuga, Ryuzaki, L, and he finally has to confront the truth he has been putting off for so long: he doesn’t have the strength to let L die.
Light tore his gaze away from L, idly flooding with his thumbs. They didn’t speak for a while. L pulled his knees up to his chest and bit the skin around his nail, neither of them sure of what to say.
Light sighed, catching L’s attention. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, “Ryuzaki, do you know who one of my biggest inspirations is? Who I attempt to model my life after?”
He pondered this for a moment. “Your father?”
“Correct,” Light responded, staring at the carpet, “He always had such a strong sense of right and wrong- a strong sense of justice. Being raised by him was a privilege in more ways than one. He taught me so much about honor and fairness at such a young age. I respected my father more than anyone else in the world,”
L dropped his finger from his lips, “Respected?”
Light sat up straight, his body stiffening. He dug his nails into his knees, keeping the previous embers of anger smothered, “When we were at the bar, talking about what Aizawa had said, I almost understood where he was coming from. Older generation. It is no excuse, but I felt as though it was something to agree to disagree on. And then...” Light cut himself off, balling his fists. He winced in pain at the previously made cuts on his palms, releasing his grip.
L inspected his motions, and slowly moved closer to him, “Light.” He softly grabbed his wrists and opened his palms, the raw, angry half-moon cuts still indented into his palms. “You’re hurt.” L rubbed the marks on his palms slowly and with care, but it still caused Light to wince slightly.
“He said that if he ever found out I even kissed another man, he would kill me himself,” He spoke softly, almost unsure if the words escaped his throat.
L stopped his small movements over his hands. Wordlessly, he made his way to the bathroom and came back with a damp washcloth and hydrogen peroxide. He sat next to Light again, dampening his hands with wet cloth.
“Light’s father said that he would kill him if he was gay,” L spoke softly as he washed his hands with the washcloth, “This made Light angry, and hurt himself,”
Light stayed silent for a moment, L moving onto his right hand to wash, “It sounds foolish now,”
“I don’t think so,”
Swallowing thickly, Light responded, “I just always regarded my father so highly; I saw him as this honor bound man with a strong moral code. But when he said that to me… Something shifted. He can be this man with a strong sense of justice, but has ideals that are so backwards,” L looked like he wanted to say something, he opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. He instead poured the alcohol onto the wash cloth, telling Light it was going to sting a bit. Light already knew this. “I was upset. There are worse things in this world than a boy kissing another boy, and there are so many incredible people through time who were queer, and even now. To write them all off because of something like that is foolish,”
L nodded, “So, you were upset because of your father’s narrow view on the world?”
“Yes,” Light watched L’s careful hands as he rubbed over and inspected every cut, “The way they think about it all… If I tried I would never understand…” L’s fingers lingered on Light’s hand for a second longer before moving onto the left hand. He felt his heart beating in his chest, “And I have to be honest… There may have been a personal vendetta as well,” He said softly.
L’s movements stopped completely, hand resting in hand, as he looked up. He inspected Light’s face, his eyes wide, “Light, you are telling the truth this time, aren’t you?”
Nodding, he tore his gaze away from the other man, “Yes. You were honest with me, it is only fair,”
“I didn’t have a choice,”
“You could have denied it,”
“Would you have believed me?”
“I don’t know,”
L stayed silent. He pulled his hands away to put more rubbing alcohol on the washrag. Light knew the cuts were already clean. He didn’t mind.
“Your father found out I was gay,” L grabbed the back of Light’s hand with one of his, and wash the palm with the other, “He said that he would kill Light himself if he ever kissed someone of the same gender. Scorchio assumed himself to be speaking hypothetically, but you are gay. The connection follows that Light realised that no matter how much his father loves him, he would still want him dead because of something out of his control,” Light said nothing, paying close attention to the movements of L’s hands and the words out of his mouth, “Light went to the bathroom once that was said, broke down, and hurt himself,” L looked at Light, genuine concern in his eyes, “Do I need to worry about future self-mutilation?”
Light shook his head, “No. It was one time, and an accident. It was just… Jarring to hear,”
“I can imagine,” L pulled his hands away, “Do you need bandages?” Light shook his head and L nodded, “I understand,” He went back to the bathroom to wash his hands, and came out. “So, you are here now,” He sat back down next to Light.
“Ryuzaki,” He turned to L, “After I found out. I got angry. I was filled with rage and didn’t know what to do with it.” Light swallowed steeling himself for his next sentence, “I wanted to hurt them. All of them,” L’s expression didn’t change or warp like he expected it to. He almost wanted to laugh.
Right. Stalemate.
“They are writing you off because of it, and they would do the same thing to me if they knew. I was angry, I still am. Hurting them won’t change anything. They aren’t going to change their minds either. They need to be taught a lesson, all of them.”
L blinked slowly at Light, “Light. Tell me. What are you doing here?”
“Revenge. But I need your help, Ryuzaki,” L said nothing, Light talked quicker, “I have an idea. But it involves you, and I need you to be fully on board,” Tilting his head, he looked skeptical, “Ryuzaki, aren’t you tired of it all? Are you sick of just waiting for things to get better, constantly having to hide that piece of yourself, terrified that if it came out everything would fall apart?” Light sighed, “The whole damn system is broken right now, way beyond our repair. We both know that. But I am not above some payback, and I know you are not either,”
L put a thumb to his lips, pondering. Light could almost hear the internal monologue he was having with himself, but the words are muddy in his mind, as his heart was thumping loudly into his ears. The debate ended, and L looked back into Light’s eyes, a small smirk grew behind his thumb, “What do we need to do?”
#death note#light yagami#l lawliet#lawlight#my writing#dn#death note fanfiction#part 2 babey lets send it#let me know if you like#this is short but y'all aren't ready for part 3
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Wedding Colors (Part 3)
(Hayffie ❤️🧡💛💚💙💖. An exploration of Effie’s evolving character as she faces past and present personal intensities while making preparations for Finnick and Annie’s wedding.)
13:00—lunch. For the first time since the ominous day in July that she’d descended into the gloom of 13, Effie’s belly was full. As weeks had turned into months, she hadn’t felt hunger. She’d picked at meals and pushed unpalatable food around her tray. But now something was different. Flint scraped over steel inside her like the wind across her cheeks that morning. Her spoon repeatedly clinked the bottom of the bowl of squash soup. It took every ounce of restraint to not bring the whole bowl to her mouth and tilt it upward to collect the last drops.
Keenly observant, Cressida noted, “That’s new.”
“What?”
“You finishing a meal here.” She dropped her voice. “Are you pregnant, Trinket?”
Effie’s face flushed scarlet, blushing through burnt cheeks. “Bite your tongue!” she snapped.
Cressida glanced at Pollux, and Effie recognized her own faux pas. “Please excuse me. I wasn’t thinking about...”
Interacting with an Avox who was a regular citizen rather than a servant of the Capitol was still a new experience for her.
Pollux signed, “No problem,” and his brother offered the translation.
Effie returned her attention to the inquisitive filmmaker. “I’m JUST hungry. Must a woman be pregnant in order to finish a bowl of soup?” She whispered “pregnant” as if saying it too loudly might invite the situation. Or just as worrisome, Haymitch could walk in at that moment, hear the word, flip out, and not touch her again. Now that she’d opened the Pandora’s box of sex with him, she didn’t want to put a lid back on it.
“Okay. I get it.” Cressida was intrigued by Effie’s blush, but otherwise mollified. “You like the soup. End of story.”
It was golden orange in color and lightly flavored with spices that tasted like autumn. Ginger was recognizable, but the others were a mystery to Effie. Her experience with cooking was mostly limited to a course she’d taken a decade and a half prior at Charis School of Grace, Beauty, and Charm.
Her mother had insisted on “Finishing School” for Effie after she graduated from the Academy. The summer classes had been a compromise, since her father was resolute in his intention to send her to University. He’d even dipped into his personal inheritance to pay extra tuition when her test scores didn’t qualify her outright for admission.
“Charis will focus Euphemia on the most sophisticated etiquette and deportment, preparing her for marriage into greater wealth,” her mother argued.
“University will prepare Effie for a practical career suited to her strongest skills,” her father contended.
“Grace, beauty, and charm ARE her strongest skills. Face it, dear. Like you, our daughter lacks the talent to be a Gamemaker.”
“She has the talent to be more than a rich man’s wife.”
“If I were the wife of a RICH man, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation, would we?”
Their barbs stung each other. After years of practice, the Trinkets knew just where to aim them. They agreed that Effie needed a path which would secure an optimal future for the family. Neither of them asked her what she wanted.
If they’d asked back then, she would have had one specific answer. And if she was honest with herself now, her deepest desire was exactly the same. If she’d voiced it then, her parents would have sent her to the Asylum first before anything else. So she said nothing about it.
By 18, she’d become a master at the art of knowing when to hold her tongue. She’d internalized the pressure to please her parents and reflect positively on her family’s name and station in society. The burden of doing so was a heavy weight on her shoulders.
Effie’s shoulders ached too from the physical work of gathering and carrying around large sacks of perfect leaves. She daydreamed about a bath full of bubbles followed by a nap on a real bed. Allowing the fantasy was a mistake because then her body screamed for it.
She wondered if even babies were allowed to nap here, or did they get merely a half hour of “reflection” before dinner like everyone else? Did they have daily schedules imprinted on their chubby little arms? Eat. Poop. Sleep. What else did the tiny things do? She’d never paid much attention to them in the Capitol. Had she ever seen a baby in 13? She couldn’t recall.
***
14:00—volunteering. The children would be out of school soon. Plutarch told her to expect them along with anyone who was between work shifts. Coin was allowing more flexibility than usual in order to encourage volunteerism. Effie considered the irony in the word spelled out on her arm in purple ink. Following schedules was mandatory. Once “volunteering” is tattooed on your body, doesn’t it cease to be voluntary?
That place made her head hurt if she thought about it too much. She pulled her rose-tinted sunglasses out of her pocket and put them on, hoping the change in light would temper some of the ache, and help her feel less vulnerable.
“Ready or not, here I go,” she said out loud.
She approached the kitchen staff for permission to use large plastic serving bowls to hold the leaves at the tables. The kitchen manager, a middle aged woman named Cuire, put up resistance, muttering something about needing authorization from the president.
Greasy Sae showed no qualms about interjecting. “Now, those leaves ain’t all that different from a salad. We’ll have the bowls washed again long before dinner service.”
The older woman, with her hair up in a kerchief more plain than Effie’s, carried a stack of serving bowls through the doorway without waiting for the manager’s consent. She returned to the kitchen for more until every serving bowl in 13 was in the dining hall. Cuire pursed her lips but said nothing.
Sae pulled a handful of leaves out of one of the canvas bags and dropped them into a bowl. “The list of procedures here’s a mile long. Sometimes the only way to keep these folks from sayin’ ‘no’ is to just not ask ‘em. And then work fast.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Effie joined her efforts to quickly transfer the leaves to the bowls. “Thank you, Sae.”
“Thank YOU, girl. Gatherin’ up all these to make pretty things for the weddin’, you must be exhausted.”
“I had help. From Haymitch.”
“Did you?”
“I had to ambush him.”
“Nah. As often as that boy looks at you, I’d guess he went willingly.”
Ambushed and willing. Yes, he was.
Beetee wheeled up to her with several spools of wire, wire cutters, rolls of electrical tape, and several pairs of scissors.
“The copper color is PERFECT!” Effie gushed.
“This wire is at least a hundred years old,” he replied with little emotion, “The only reason it shows no corrosion is because 13 is fastidious about its storage conditions, including adequate air circulation. The gauge is small. The electrical current from present technologies, would overload and overheat it. The wire is rather useless actually.”
“Well, we’ve found a use for it!”
“In the absence of copper tape, this seems the best match, which is ironic since brown is typically used for high voltages. And high voltages would burn right through this particular wire.”
“We’re just making garlands today, not blowing out an arena!”
“You’re speaking non-metaphorically, of course. We might hope the propo will play a role in shattering the Capitol’s grip on the restless minds of its citizens... That said, it isn’t my intention to imply that YOUR mind is gripped and restless.”
A gripped and restless mind sounded fairly accurate to Effie. “I doubt the Capitol views me as its citizen at this point.” I guess that makes me homeless, even though my family home, my apartment, my belongings, my entire history are all there.
Beetee noticed her smile fade. “You might be right about that. ...I’m sorry.”
After seeing what her victors had been through and what they were still going through, she felt uncomfortable being apologized to by a victor who she held in high regard. I don’t deserve an apology, though manners dictated the proper response to an apology was a gracious, “Thank you.”
“Will you be staying to help?” she added.
“I’m needed in Special Defense. Bring the leftover supplies when you come down later.”
“Beetee, thank you for this.”
The clock was ticking. Effie went to work immediately, arranging leaves in alternating colors and shapes and adhering the stems to a long length of wire.
“What a beautiful pattern!” A friendly voice spoke over Effie’s shoulder. She turned to see Delly Cartwright whose blonde hair fell free of its usual braid.
“An artisan! Delly, I’m grateful you’re here to help with production and quality control.”
From their occasional chats at mealtimes, Effie had learned that Delly’s parents had been shoemakers, and 13 put her to work in textile production as soon as she’d turned 18.
“Me? An artisan?”
“You WILL be, dear. I’ve seen your stitching. I’ve also observed your congenial way with people.” Effie cut a long length of wire for Delly and set her up with supplies to work at another table. “Let’s spread around the talent.”
When school let out, Delly’s younger brother was the first to arrive, not wanting to go “home” to empty quarters. Posy Hawthorne followed close at his heels, skipping to keep up with his much longer legs.
“Stop followin’ me!” he told her.
“I’m not followin’ you. We’re just goin’ the same place, that’s all.”
“Well, you’re a baby, and I don’t want you sittin’ at MY table.”
“Cordwain!” Delly interjected, “That’s not polite!”
“I’m FIVE years old, and I’ll sit wherever I please, CordWAIN.” With three older brothers, Posy could hold her own in disagreements with just about anyone, especially boys. Effie admired that along with her manners.
“Aw, Dellyyyy,” her brother whined, “You’re supposed to call me Cord!”
“You apologize to Posy, and I won’t have to be so stern.”
“Do I HAVE to?! She’s just Vick’s little sister.”
“And you’re MY little brother, so, yes, you do. You know Ma and Pa would say so if—“
“Ma and Pa are dead!” Cord sat at the table with Delly and folded his arms across his chest.
Delly sighed, and her tone softened, “Cordy, honey, that’s all the more reason to apologize.”
His lip quivered, and he muttered in a hoarse voice. “Sorry.”
“I’m sorry they died,” Posy empathized, “My daddy died b’fore I was born.”
She sat across from Effie and looked at her for a long fifteen seconds. Effie wasn’t used to children being so young. The girl’s dark hair fell long past her shoulders in two braids. Her gray eyes were deeply set. She had the look of a person who’d seen the shadow of death and kept going.
“I like your pink glasses.” Posy twirled one of her braids around her finger. “I used to have pink ribbons. Two of ‘em.”
“When I was your age, I wore pink ribbons in my hair. Pink was my favorite color.”
“Mine too! Gale says we can’t go back fer the ribbons. He says they’re gone. Do you think they’re gone?”
“Well... I...” For goodness sake. What does one say to a child whose district was fire bombed to rubble?
Cord muttered some more, “Of course they’re gone!”
Posy ignored him, waiting for Effie’s response.
“Your brother, Gale, is wise, dear.” Effie saw her expectant little face fall. “I am going to your district tomorrow. With Katniss. Would you like for me to look for the ribbons so you know for certain?”
Posy nodded.
“Then I’ll be sure to do that. In the meantime would you like to help make a garland? There aren’t any pink leaves, but there are other pretty colors.”
Posy reached into the bowl and pulled out a red one. “Can I do this one?”
“Of course. Let me show you.”
Effie demonstrated with a different leaf then watched Posy’s small fingers peel and cut the tape and use it to add her chosen leaf to the copper wire.
“How’s that?” the girl asked.
The tape was crooked. The leaf was crooked, and it didn’t fall in line with the pattern. Effie considered telling her so. Aemilia Trinket certainly would have. And for that reason if no other, Effie said to the five-year/old, “That’s wonderful, dear.”
Posy beamed. “You’re nice. You’re not scary at all! I’m gonna go tell Rory that he’s wrong.” She hopped out of the chair and skipped away, turning around long enough to say, “I’ll be back!”
Effie watched her go, not knowing quite what to think. Rory?... She couldn’t remember who that was. One of the Hawthorne boys?
“This year would have been Rory’s first reaping,” Delly explained.
Effie didn’t need to hear anything more in order to understand. The truth split her heart. Half of it dropped like lead into her stomach. The other half rose up into her throat, threatening to choke her.
The children are afraid of me.
Even without a reaping ball in front of me, they are still afraid.
In that moment, she didn’t have time or space to process the realization. She just sat there, forcing a smile, trying to keep the vacant feeling in her chest from showing on her face. As volunteers streamed into the dining hall, she swallowed the lump in her throat, pressed her palm to her stomach, and directed the project as planned.
More children arrived giggling and singing, 🎶”Come live with me and be my love...”🎶 It was the beginning of District 4’s wedding song, which they’d started learning in school. 🎶”...I'll take you out upon the sea...”🎶 drew them into conversation about how the ocean might look, feel, sound, smell, and taste. None of them had ever been to the seashore. They’d only seen it in books.
🎶”...To share the starry night with you...” 🎶 intrigued them too. Some of the children from 12 tried to describe the stars to the kids from 13 who had never been above ground at night. “A star is like the tip of the flame of a candle that never flickers.”... “They just pop out in the sky as it’s changing from blue to black.”... “My grandma says stars are ghosts that come to visit us at night. Good ghosts, not scary ones.”... “Ghosts ain’t real.”... “Are so!”... “Are not!”
Dozens of adults were there to cut wire and strips of tape for the younger children and to ensure the garlands turned out beautifully.
With so many helping hands, Effie had to let go of her precise plans. The work of other artisans became apparent as some patterns emerged which were even more pleasing than what Plutarch and Effie envisioned.
Boggs showed up, carrying his son on his hip. The boy seemed younger than Posy, though Effie was far from an expert about children under 12. Boggs sat at a table with the boy in his lap. The little one reached for the leaves just as Boggs’ communicuff started flashing wildly. “Damon, buddy, President Coin is calling. I’ve just lost my break time. I’m going to need to take you back to daycare, but maybe Miss Trinket will let you take one of the leaves with you?” Boggs gave Effie a pleading look. The last thing he needed just then was an upset kid.
Damon’s big brown eyes welled up with tears. He wiped them away with the backs of his hands which were filled with leaves that he didn’t want to let go. Since the epidemic, Boggs and his son had been on their own. Looking into those teary eyes, Effie couldn’t help but feel for them. The feeling seeped into that empty space in her chest, and eased a bit of the void.
“Your son can stay awhile, if you’d like. Then I can take him back to daycare.”
“Are you sure? He’s a handful, and you have a lot going on here.”
Seeing herself in the moment as “scary ghost” rather than a star, Effie definitely was NOT sure that she was the right person to be looking after a young child. “Of course, I’m sure,” she spoke through her smiling mask.
“What do you say, buddy? Do you want to stay with Miss Trinket and make a garland, or do you want me to take you back to daycare now?”
“It’s Effie. The only one who calls me Miss Trinket around here is Mr. Heavensbee.” She laughed.
Damon climbed down from Boggs’ lap and up into Effie’s. “Oh! Well, hello,” she said, pushing her chair back far enough to make room for him. He was heavier than he’d looked in the strong arms of his father. He squirmed around reaching for everything at once: more leaves of every shape and color, scissors...
Boggs’ eyes widened.
Effie handed Damon a roll of tape in trade for the scissors. “You can hold the tape, and I’LL do the cutting.”
‘Thank you,’ Boggs mouthed the words then told his son, “This is an important job, soldier. Effie is your commanding officer. Are you going to take this work seriously and mind what she tells you to do?”
“Yeth, thir, Daddy, thir!” His lisp melted Effie’s heart.
“At ease, little man. I’ll pick you up from daycare at 18:00.” Boggs kissed his son’s forehead, and Damon was already hard at work attempting to peel tape off the roll.
As Effie helped the boy put leaves on the wire, Posy returned, accompanied by one of her brothers who hurried to claim an open seat next to Cord. Posy skipped up to Effie and patted her head. “I got Vick to come, but Rory’s stubborn. YOU know how boys can be.”
Effie looked up from the table to see Haymitch leaning against a pillar near the edge of the dining hall. He was watching her closely. The expression on his face was a loaded mix of curiosity and seriousness.
“Yes, I do know how boys can be,” Effie agreed, “Especially when they are afraid.”
Haymitch had never seen Effie around little kids, and he was fascinated. The Hawthorne girl chattered on and on, tucking leaf stems into the top knot of Effie’s kerchief. Boggs’ kid was in Effie’s lap, crushing leaves with his hands and unwrapping tape for her to cut with scissors. A girl Haymitch didn’t recognize sat to the side, touching Effie’s bracelet. “Is this silver and gold?” the kid asked.
“This s costume jewelry,” Effie answered.
“What’s ‘costume’?” the girl wanted to know.
“A costume is... something you might wear when you are... pretending.”
The Hawthorne girl said to the other one, “You can wear one of my pink ribbons sometime, and we can pretend to be twins... if Effie finds my ribbons in 12 tomorrow.”
Effie locked eyes with Haymitch. “I promised I’d look, Posy, but please don’t get your hopes up, dear.”
He was trying to make sense of the situation. Effie’s going to 12 tomorrow? Why? And why is nobody telling me anything! Pissed off, he started to walk away.
“Excuse me, girls. Damon, let’s go talk to Haymitch for a few minutes.” Effie stood up, holding the boy on her hip as Boggs had done. “Haymitch! Wait...” She caught up to him before the staircase. If he’d really wanted to avoid her, he would have already been long gone.
“What are you thinking!?” he asked, unsure of what he was wondering about most... Why was Effie going to 12 where the burned corpses of his people were still rotting? Why didn’t she tell him about her plans? And what the hell was his heart doing as he watched her with those little kids?
“Annie needs help selecting one of Cinna’s dresses for the wedding, and Katniss asked if I could go with them for support. So, of course, I said yes. ...Not that I owe you an explanation.”
“You owe me nothing, sweetheart. But it’s bad there. You’re going to see things that’ll change you.”
“I’m already changing.” She boosted the kid up on her hip. “There’s nothing I can do to stop that. ...And I don’t think I want to stop it.”
Damon dropped the leaves and rubbed his eyes. “Are you tired... buddy?” Effie hesitantly used one of Boggs’ nicknames for the boy. He shook his head ‘no’, but rubbed his eyes again. “How about we take these leaves to daycare so you can show your daddy?”
Damon nodded and opened his hands to the floor where the leaves had fallen. Haymitch bent to pick them up and handed them back to the kid. He stood close to them. Effie smelled like the woods, faintly like ginger, and mostly like her. The fragrances helped him feel less agitated. They were familiar, as if less was changing all at once.
“Thank you,” she said about the leaves, “Will you please tell Delly where I’m going and ask her to stay until I return?”
“Sure”
She rested her palm on Haymitch’s shirt where his sweater gaped open. She brushed her fingertips along the buttons. “Will YOU stay until I return? I could really use your help hanging these garlands in Special Defense.”
Her touch felt too good for him to say no.
The peace in his expression was answer enough for her.
As he watched her walk away, a smile crept over his face. He was far too amused to remind Effie that the Hawthorne girl had embellished her head wrap with at least a dozen leaves. In all the years, it was the best *wig* he’d seen her wear. If she was going to roam around 13 looking like a tree, then who was he to stop her?
#HayffieFics#hayffie#hayffie fanfiction#effie x haymitch#haymitch x effie#haymitch abernathy#effie trinket#thg#thg fanfiction#district 13#wedding colors#greasy sae#delly cartwright#cressida#castor and pollux#boggs#posy Hawthorne#Aemilia trinket#cordwain Cartwright#damon#dreamcatcher voyage#beetee
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meteorgazing
hello everybody here is an original piece of writing i was kinda proud of bc im trying to post on social media more.
prompt - aliens receive signals from Us (as in the US)
they are from proxima b and i will give more worldbuilding info if yall interested ok here we go :’)
--
one - meteorgazing
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notes -
opi - (two earth days)
rings - (eleven earth days)
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We get a lot of meteors.
Reason 50678 the surface isn’t safe-- no atmosphere means no pushback. Rocks hurtling from the sky aren’t quite uncommon. There’s not much damage to anything but what they hit. Of course, while it’s scary to watch, it doesn’t do much but cause a roofquake-- a rumbling beginning from the Seeing Dome to the rest of the tunnels. There’s been some incidents, some injuries and some deaths- like everything, it’s something swept away as a horrible- but normal- natural disaster, and most of the time it’s not much more than a little shiver. Really. People in the city at the time tend to gather just to watch. There’s something memorizing about watching a hurtling ball of rock slam into the face of our planet at high speeds while completely ablaze.
Even with the commonplace activity of gathering in the center of the city to watch space rocks fall dangerously close to our Seeing Dome, however, I never thought we would go so far as to make a surface dome just to watch one of the biggest showers yet to date. It was dangerous enough as is-- really, it was-- so I wasn’t particularly interested to watch in any case- yes, a little bit curious about it, but the feeling was quickly stomped out by fear and replaced with a sense of resignation. There was always Holowatch-- a projected hologram from your home holodevice to show you the news-- mostly surface stuff, or from City Twenty, where the biggest political station we had throughout the cluster of cities was placed.
But then there was Ama. Ama, with his bright eyes and his huge grin, practically shivering with excitement as he rushed me in line to get a ticket. We didn’t have enough money for the usual, so he entered us into contests basically any chance he got-- I wasn’t worried, and no way by all the gods would they curse me so much by--
“Elli! I got it-- look, I got two!” Tickets waved in the air for the first ever surface dome built specifically for watching meteor showers in our tunnel, I felt my heart sink as I made eye contact with Ama, beaming more than I had ever seen before.
There was something about Ama and his excitement that just pulled you in and shoved away your rationality. The way he smiled made you feel like you had to do anything to preserve it-- maybe because it was so hard to get him like this, maybe because love blinds you to even the stupidest of ideas. I flattened my sweatshirt against my chest nervously and grinned back, taking my ticket out of his hand. Three rings until disaster and we had free tickets to watch.
For the next three rings, every opi I woke up to a message about strange noises coming from a sector we call Terra, holding a planet that astronomers deemed safest and most habitable for intelligent life like us. Or about giant meteor showers. Or about how rare we are to get huge rocks falling from the sky hurtling at the surface in a desperate attempt to show us the way to our doom and them staying the size they do. And it was adorable, really. Usually it was me, and usually it was seventy messages about something boring from me, and so with a sense of duty I read everything Ama sent and poured as much excitement into a response as I could.
We’re going to die! Screamed my brain, but by the sun god was I dumb enough to be happy to go along with it.
We weren’t the only tunnel with a surface dome ready for the watching, either. City Twenty had the biggest, and far on the other side of the Habitation Line was 9296- the longest lasting surface dome with even a small bit of surface travellers living on it. Of course, they had underground homes to sleep in, but they spent most of their waking hours up on the surface. Everyone knew about it, and Ama swore he wanted to be one of them one day. I wondered how it’d feel to be watching this from there-- normal? Did they see meteor showers all the time? Were they afraid it might hit the dome every time they saw one screeching towards them faster than an Aquatrain? Not for the first time and definitely not for the last, I closed my eyes to sleep before we went up to our tunnel’s first surface dome with only one thought, an absolute certainty: oh my gods, we’re going to die.
When I woke up, I found myself wandering to Ama’s home with an even stronger sense of resignation and a desire to not be alone with it. Immediately upon arrival, I was met with the most excited four-eyed gaze I’ve ever been locked in-- and there it went again, I knew I was going to do this and be just fine with it.
His chatter continued, rising as the time got closer to head up to the surface dome, and often I found myself opening my mouth to share a fact just to keep him going.
“Did you know space tastes like rubusberries?” I heard myself saying, “Do you think the rocks taste like that, too?” He stopped for a moment, frozen on the sidewalk on our way to the train to the surface dome just to stare at me. Bubbling up with laughter, he tossed his head forward in a snort,
“Are you planning to taste the meteor, Elli?” My face heated up in embarrassment, but I bit my tongue and then shot back a response. “Maybe! I mean, it’s good research! A lot of things can be identified through taste!” “Local child just up and dies because they went outside to taste a space-rock.” “At least I’d know if it tasted like rubusberries!”
Rubusberries stayed the topic for a bit longer, the topic clinging to our tongues until it faded away into excited shivering as we stepped in line for the train. It hit me like a solar flare, making me bubble with anticipation that I really was excited, too- I wanted to see it, and I wanted to see Ama see it. The voice screaming ‘we’re going to die!’ finally dulled down to a whisper in the back of my mind.
Hey, at least it’ll be interesting.
Once on the aquatrain, I watched the train-tunnel fill with water as Ama listened to the rest of the train’s quiet, excited chatter. My hands gripped the edges of my seat as I watched it slowly bubble up above my window, bracing myself for the kickback of the train shooting through the water. It was interesting technology, really, but the amount of malfunctions I’d read about had me uneasy every time I was on one. One glance at Ama told me he didn’t as much as I did- if at all- so I bit my tongue and watched as the train suddenly lurched forward, shooting through the water and up towards the surface.
Here we go.
Suddenly, there was a chaotic ball of energy at my shoulder, pressing his hand against the window as we watched ourselves shoot up towards the danger, up towards new experiences and life on the surface yet to come.
“It’s funny we’re going full circle. Surface to underground to surface.” I murmured.
“Now we know what we’re doing. We hadn’t evolved enough before. The sun god knew we’d kill ourselves up there.” He replied simply, and the casual tone of his voice made me choke on laughter.
“Then why are we going up there now?” “To prove him wrong out of spite!” Cheered Ama, leaning over me to press both hands against the window. “Look, there it is!”
Look I did, and like he said, there it was. A giant, metallic door that looked unopenable by any number of Centaurians, and yet it slid open and let the water slosh to the side as the train pressed forward and through it, coming to land and slide against the top of the tunnel as we made our way to the surface dome entrance.
I won’t lie. I screamed.
“Elli. Elli, we’re fine! This is how trains work! Elli!” Climbing the rest of the way to the entrance was much less scary, as there were stairs and stairs are solid and won’t explode under too much water pressure, certainly since there’s no water. A muffled voice boomed over speakers we couldn’t see, giving us directions we couldn’t hear-- and then the crowd started moving, so we followed. Metallic doors that looked a little more manageable by Centaurian hands slid open with a slow, painful screech in front of us- and there it was, above the slope we were climbing: another Seeing Dome. This one above the tunnels.
Ama basically squealed-- and as I was jerked away from the line by excited hands, we pushed our way to the front as Ama stared at the stars above us. Closer than ever now, our feet hit red dust and we looked up to see the sky now only separated by a dome and not red rock all around us. It felt scarily empty-- up here, there were no tall walls or caves all around us. From every angle, there was sky.
“This is literally amazing.” He breathed beside me. “Yeah.” I said back with much less air, absolutely slammed by a feeling of sheer surrealism. You could see so far-- the dark line and the light line, where the heat and cold gods warred from afar. The horizon was much more beautiful in person than in pictures.
“Elli, look!” We were now the only people standing by the entrance, the others wandering to the edges of the Seeing Dome to get a better look. To my absolute dismay, however, what should’ve been the safest spot to stand-- right beside the exit-- was where a small meteor was heading, sending itself straight at us.
Ama watched it with wide eyes. I watched it with a wince. It was beautiful-- it really was, watching them streak the sky, and the surface, and our Safety Dome, but watching it hit with a Clank! still gave me a shiver.
Wait.
Wrinkling my nose as I squinted up at it, I tugged Ama’s hand as my feet began to move on their own. Following it as the burning ball of-- well, whatever it was, slid towards an unoccupied side of the Dome, Ama stumbled behind me. “Elli, where are we going? We’re going to miss the rest of it!” “It shouldn’t have made that noise.” I said back, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Elli, you’re nuts.” “It was metallic. It clanked. Ama, it clanked. That’s not a meteor. That’s something someone made.”
And suddenly we were both speeding towards it, Ama whooping and me with my head spinning, stumbling and hitting the side of the dome as we stared down at a mess of melted metal and a white substance bearing a strange, rectangular logo-- red stripes and a blue corner, with what looked like misshapen stars decorating the blue bit. Strange text in bold letters sat above it, smeared and burnt as the capsule remained aflame.
“ALIENS!” Ama shrieked, jumping up and down. He punched my shoulder. “Take that, everybody! ALIENS!!!”
We weren’t the only ones who found something.
Holowatch was projected all over the city as capsules popped up all over the planet. 9296 got two. City Twenty got one. Another surface dome found half of one. Cities were rushing to build more or get Centaurians on the surface to find more. They came with garbled audio-- messages we couldn’t understand. But what sent everyone reeling was the one we found-- it was the sound of another animal, not the intelligent life that kept trying to talk to us. Something big-- something that sounded like our own creatures, a series of clicks, whistles and pulsed calls. Biologists rushed to identify it-- but it was soon determined not to be one of our own, just something close. It was big, most likely lived underwater, but used the same noises ours did to get around-- they used sound for navigation.
There was no doubt about it, there was life on Terran.
“We discovered aliens.” Ama wouldn’t stop saying. “Not us.” “We found it first!” “9296 found theirs thirty-two blinks before we found ours.”
“Second! We discovered aliens second!” “...Fine. Second.” “Aliens, Elli!”
“I hear you, Ama.” I said with fake exasperation, watching him pace around his room.
“We found it. We should get to see what they do with it.” “We are literally children, they weren’t going to let us help.” I said slowly, eyeing him suspiciously as he stopped walking across the room. He looked up at me and grinned.
“Am-- no. No, absolutely not. Whatever you’re thinking is a big, fat, nope.”
He continued grinning, taking a step towards me as his expression melted into something akin to affection mixed with excitement. The mischief was there-- I could see it. Feel it. But rationality slipped away as he grabbed my shoulder. “Let’s just try to sneak around. It’s not like we’ll even get anywhere with it!”
I let out a heavy sigh as I quietly threw my life into ruin. I unleash the sun god upon you, aliens. Why do you do this to me?
“...Fine.”
#proxima b#aliens#original writing#scifi#original story#writing#story#aliens get signals from us#proxima centauri#proxima centauri fic#life on other planets#space#short story#my story#stories about space#idk what tags to use#writing prompt#story 1#short stories#idk what to tag this as#or what im doing#i hope somebody likes this tho
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Krenko’s Guide to Pokemon: Poliwag Line
Ah, Poliwhirl, the main character of Pokemon.
...What, you thought it was Pikachu?
Well, sure, Pikachu became it, because people didn’t like Poliwag, Poliwhirl, and Poliwrath enough, but if you go back and look at the earliest Pokemon promotional material, you’ll find the Poliwag line everywhere, because Satoshi Tajiri himself wanted to push it as the big symbol of Pokemon and Evolution- the tadpole turning into a frog.
Back in the day, Poliwag’s line was inexplicably everywhere. There’d be toy lines of “Bulbasaur, Charmander, Squirtle, PIkachu, Meowth, and Poliwhirl.” Poliwhirl was on all the promotional material. Hell, when Pokemon was on the cover of Time Magazine, guess who was front and center.
But nobody actually liked Poliwhirl all that much so eventually the Pokemon company stopped putting it in everything. Eh, they can’t all be winners. DESIGN: Poliwag is actually super cute. It’s a tadpole with a spiral reminiscent of real tadpole intestines (visible through translucent skin) but not gross at all. Feel free to google that on your own time. I’ve decided not to share the picture here. The little feet show it’s just starting to turn into not-a-tadpole and it’s got a cute little mouth for blowing bubbles. I love Poliwag. Poliwhirl is... fine. Trading the tail for arms makes sense, but what I don’t really get is losing any semblance of a mouth. It just looks weird. Incomplete maybe. There’s something inherently offputting about Poliwhirl’s appearance and I honestly think it’s that it has no mouth, so it’s not clear that that big swirly thing is supposed to be its tummy.
Poliwrath is just a design I don’t like. It’s just Angry Poliwhirl. It’s thicker and has bicep, but it still suffers from the weird mouth issue that Poliwhirl does, and it doesn’t actually look like a different creature. It might just be the least noticeable change in an evolution in all of Pokemon. Seriously, look back and forth between Poliwhirl and Poliwrath quickly and tell me those are two different Pokemon and not just, like, the male and female variant of one. At least with Poliwrath I think I see where its mouth is sort of SUPPOSED to be, but with it closed so tight I can’t really tell. Its made even more confusing because Poliwag shoots “Water Gun” out of its mouth, but Poliwhirl shoots it out of its belly.
And then there’s Politoed. Politoed has a mouth! I approve. Unfortunately, I feel like Politoed diverges too much from Poliwag and Poliwhirl.
The coloration is entirely different, which would be fine if Poliwhirl wasn’t the exact same color as Poliwag, there’s suddenly a huge mouth, the hands and feet are three-fingered instead of whatever’s going on with Poliwhirl, and while there’s still a stomach swirl it’s not only less pronounced, it’s a different color. Now, I will say that overall I do like Politoed’s design. I think it’s a cool frog monster that’s clearly a frog but also has enough unique traits to be interesting. I just don’t feel that it looks like the frog Poliwag was destined to become.
Now, Shiny Politoed actually goes a long way to fix this just by being the same colors as Poliwhirl, but my general feeling here is that if Poliwag to Poliwhirl’s transformation involves big gloved hands and raised eyes, then the Poliwhirl to Politoed evolution should’ve kept those. Also, I don’t get why it has a single long hair. The Pokedex says that hair is proof of its status as a King, and it does evolve via King’s Rock, so maybe there’s some Frog Prince shenanigans going on there, but I just don’t see it. EVOLUTIONS: I love Branching Evolutions, generally, especially ones where you just get a choice. Poliwag to Poliwhirl is a normal level 25, and Poliwhirl to Wrath or Toed is Water Stone or Traded With King’s Rock... And I gotta say, I kind of hate “Trade with King’s Rock.” I don’t think I’ve gone into this yet but I’ll definitely say it a lot in the future: Trade evolutions that require additional items are a pain in the butt, a waste of everyone’s time, and there’s too many different items for them. Also, Trading is already a bit of a thing. Why not just make Poliwhirl evolve into Poliwag by using the King’s Rock like an evolution stone? You know there’s like 40 evolution items and most of them only apply to one Pokemon? And King’s Rock only applies to two.
Look, I understand and begrudgingly respect that, until they came to their senses in Sword and Shield, Pokemon didn’t want to include evolution methods that were attemptable and failable in an earlier game, like using a Leaf Stone on Eevee, but I will never understand while Sneasel needs a Razor Claw but Gligar needs a Razor Fang even though both work by being held items that trigger evolution on level up. And King’s Rock, Metal Coat, Upgrade, and Dragon Scale were what started this mess. And why the devil can’t Seadra become Kingdra with a KING’S Rock? Somehow Politoed is more king than Kingdra? Anyway, split evolutions are cool when they’re sufficiently different. Though Politoed and Poliwrath seem similar, they have a decently different move list and, most importantly, Poliwrath leans Physical while Politoed leans Special. TYPING: Poliwrath is a rather unique Water/Fighting combo which gives it a whopping seven resistances. Sure, this comes with five weaknesses, but if you play smart it means you can switch Poliwrath into a lot of attacks. Also, a Water/Fighting combo gives super effective coverage against seven types, and nothing resists both types. This is a really comfortable place to be. Politoed is pure water, which is fine defensively with four resistances and only two weaknesses, but with only three types of STAB coverage and three types that resist all its STAB attacks it’s going to have a much harder time putting out damage.
STATS: You know what’s weird? Poliwhirl has speed 90. Both Poliwrath and Politoed have speed 70. While it’s not unheard of for a Pokemon to have a stat decrease, especially a speed decrease, on evolution, Poliwhirl is the only Gen One pokemon to have this issue, other than Caterpie and Weedle who lose Attack and Speed upon cocooning but got it back in their final forms. Some Gen One Pokemon retroactively got it later, like Onix and Scyther both losing speed when they become Steel types, but Poliwhirl was the first. Anyway, actual stats. Both Poliwrath and Politoed have above average HP and below average speed. Poliwrath has comfortable defenses at 95 and 90, and a decent 95 attack. It’s not exactly a heavy hitter, but it’s good all around. Politoed has 75 Attack and Defense, just a bit below average, but a Special Defense of a good 100. Its Special attack at 90 is just a smidge lower than Poliwrath’s attack, but it’s still fine.
ABILITIES: For main abilities, both Poliwrath and Politoed have Water Absorb and Damp. Damp, as mentioned for Psyduck, is basically useless. It shuts off self-destructing moves, but those don’t really come up enough to matter. Water Absorb is just good. Water Absorb replaces their Water Resistance not with Immunity, but the ability to heal any time they’re hit by a water attack. In a normal battle, this lets them catch Water attacks even better than they’d be able to otherwise, and jump into them late game to heal. In a 2v2, this allows your ally to spam Surf, healing your Poliwhatever while also damaging both enemies. We’re going to see Water Absorb a lot in the future, and it’s always an entirely solid ability.... but both hidden abilities are worth talking about. Poliwrath’s Hidden Ability is Swift Swim, which doubles it speed in the rain, and it’s another ability a lot of water Pokemon have. Obviously this takes some setup to use, but Poliwrath’s speed is right at the level where it’s poor normally but suddenly really good with Swift Swim up. If your team can reliably trigger it, it’s a serious boost to Poliwrath’s overall effectiveness. Whether this is better than Water Absorb absolutely depends on your team. Politoed... gets one of the greatest abilities in the game. I said this when Ninetails came up, but if a has Drought, Snow Warning, Drizzle, or Sand Stream it’s automatically useful. Politoed is one of only three Pokemon with Drizzle, and while Kyogre is the Obvious Best of the three, it’s a Legendary that’s banned in many tournaments, so the competition is just Politoed and Pelipper- and honestly, they’re both entirely reasonable options. Drizzle is a free action Rain Dance. That’s it. And that’s all you need. Politoed comes out and oh look it’s raining. Now water attacks do more damage, fire attacks do less, and all those other fun rain abilities are triggered. Politoed is a strategy in himself, and even if his stats were much worse, Drizzle would still be reason to use him.
Unless you’re in a format where Kyogre’s legal in which case, to hell with the little frog.
MOVES: As always we start with our attacks. Poliwrath has two main fighting options, the defensive Drain Punch or the offensive Close Combat. As Poliwrath is a bit on the bulky side and not really strong enough to reliably one-shot things with Close Combat, I’d lean toward Drain Punch. For Water, Poliwrath gets.... Liquidation. It’s not impressive, but it’s STAB Physical. Poliwrath actually has a serious move problem in that many of its best moves are Special rather than Physical, but it’s physical attack stat is much higher. With a Swift Swim Poliwrath, Waterfall becomes a lot more desirable than Liquidation, as it’s likely to outspeed its foes, but if your Poliwrath isn’t built for speed, that Flinch is unlikely to happen. Politoed has this question a lot easier. It can learn Surf, Hydro Pump, and Scald, depending on which better fits your tactics.
Poliwrath’s coverage options are Darkest Lariat, Earthquake, Ice Punch, Rock Slide, and Poison Jab. Of these, Darkest Lariat works against Ghost and Fairy, Earthquake against Poison and Electric, Ice Punch against Flying, Grass, and Dragon, Rock Slide against Flying and Bug, and Poison Jab against Grass and Fairy. Obviously there’s no way to win them all, but Poliwrath can reasonably threaten a lot of types.
Politoed’s coverage options are Ice Beam, Psychic, Earth Power, and Focus Blast... But with guaranteed Rain Dance and STAB, it’s better off using Water against anything that isn’t Dragon, Grass, or Water. Nothing it has hits water, so Ice Beam is the only secondary attack it needs to pick up. (Politoed would be utterly busted if it could learn Thunder, but it can’t so... Ice Beam it is.) And then there’s the question of utility, and Poliwrath has a lot of it. Option A is Belly Drum. Belly Drum punches your pokemon in the gut, hard, dropping their HP in half... and raises their Attack by six stages. It’s a dangerous gambit, but Poliwrath is bulky enough and has enough resistances to give it a shot. Option B: Rest. Poliwrath can take a nap and heal to full. Lots of Pokemon can learn rest, but most Pokemon don’t have above-average defenses and seven resistances. Poliwrath can combine Rest with Sleep Talk (but don’t combine Sleep Talk with Belly Drum or you’ll just kill yourself,) in order to keep performing moves while asleep. Of particular note, Circle Throw changes from -6 Priority off of Sleep Talk to using Sleep Talk’s priority, making it a solid option that keeps your opponent from properly fighting back against your sleepy frog. With this strategy, using Scald over Waterfall or Liquidation becomes reasonable. The damage is much less, but Burning an opponent cuts their Attack and deals damage over time. Option C: Bulk Up. If you’re worried about the HP loss of Belly Drum, just Bulk Up instead. It’s weaker, but it raises Defense too, and then you can get back to Drain Punching. Politoed doesn’t have that much for utility options (though Perish Song, Protect, and Encore all have their uses) but that’s fine because the goal here is to just set up rain and then blast enemies with a water attack and Ice Beam or switch out into something that can better take advantage of the rain. You don’t need other utility when you have Drizzle. Take Splash for all I care. It doesn’t matter: Hydro Pump, Surf or Scald Ice Beam Whatever. Maybe take Rest and Sleep Talk, too. Politoed’s pretty bulky. It doesn’t really matter. Drizzle means that Politoed is secretly one of the strongest Special Attackers in the game. Just make sure you have a Ground type on the team so you can safely switch when you’re staring down an Electric type, because you do not want to eat a Thunder. OVERALL: Poliwrath and Politoed, despite being counterparts, are very different pokemon. Poliwrath’s near-unique typing, shared only with Legendaries, and solid bulk gives it an interesting defensive position, with a wide range of attack coverage. Meanwhile, Politoed has Drizzle, which makes a pokemon on its own. Everything else is just gravy. And I seriously wasn’t kidding about Poliwhirl being on EVERYTHING.
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cherry-flavored kisses | xdj
word count: 2015
genre: soft! all cute things
The sun sets earlier in autumn and, while you weren't consciously aware of it, the lack of daylight had certainly been taking a toll on your spirits. Arriving home from class often left you with the desire to get into pajamas straight away and cozy up in front of the TV, any possibility of heading back out ultimately out the window. It didn't have the best effect on your mood either, as somebody who usually spent the vast majority of their free time exploring the city. Being cooped up in your tiny apartment was starting to make you just a little bit, for lack of a better word, crazy.
While it may not have been noticeable to you personally, your boyfriend was acutely aware of the changes in your behavior. Xiaojun always had his way of reading you like your thoughts were displayed in a little bubble above your head, to the point that you had cracked a joke or two to him about clairvoyance. "You're an open book, you know," he'd retort with his honey-smooth voice.
There was a long mental list of entities you wanted to thank for bringing Xiaojun into your life, but at the top of the list, highlighted and in bold print, was fate. How you ended up in an apartment in one of the world’s most beautiful cities with this boy couldn't have been anything less than the work of some sort of higher power. The two of you were both transfer students, both from completely different hemispheres of the globe, and who knew that Xiaojun arriving late to his first class of his freshman year, attracting the attention of everyone in the room, would have had such a massive butterfly effect?
You can still remember the exchange like it was yesterday; Xiaojun was quick to apologize to the professor for his tardiness, turning his head to assess the floor plan ahead of him. And oh, how lucky it was that the seat directly adjacent to yours was the only one left unoccupied 15 minutes after the lecture had begun. Most people would have sat quietly and pulled out their surely overpriced laptop, but Xiaojun wasn't most people. After dumping his bag onto the floor and withdrawing an already well-loved spiral notebook, he muttered a swear to himself. A whole minute ticked by before he swallowed down whatever was holding him back, and he tapped you lightly on the arm. "You wouldn't happen to have an extra pen, would you?"
Over the course of the semester, asking for a pen had evolved into asking for your usual coffee order, and then into asking for your phone number, then finally into asking whether or not you had any plans after class and wouldn't mind accompanying him for lunch. Strictly in the name of studying. Absolutely not a date. He stumbled over his words when he emphasized that point to you, however, and you were certainly one to notice.
As time kept passing before your eyes, you had gone on countless not-dates with Xiaojun. It'd probably never cease to entertain you how his ears still tinted pink when you brought back the memory. "I know my good looks can get me far in this world, but I didn't want to be too forward, okay?"
"You are greatly misusing your power then, love," you'd respond. Often you wondered if things would have progressed more quickly between the pair of you, had he been more forward. There really was just something about the way Xiaojun struggled to get the classroom door open on mornings that his hands were overflowing with your extensive Starbucks order (that he never got wrong). His nature brought a warmth that you had never felt before, and it kept you coming back for more. (Read: love. It was love you were feeling.)
So, there you were. Three years and counting. You were reaching the end of your undergraduate years and without each other's presence, you both questioned whether or not you would have gotten this far.
It was a Thursday afternoon like any other, the aura of mid-October drawing you back behind closed doors much earlier than you would have preferred. "I'm home," you called into the empty space. You weren't sure if Xiaojun was back at the apartment yet, for his schedule had bitten him in the ass this semester.
To your pleasant surprise you heard his voice, harmonious like an angel’s, call back to you from the bedroom. "Just a second!"
Just a second later, Xiaojun appeared in all of his bed-headed glory, sweatpants clad and smiling. He shut the door behind him on his way over to you. You opened your arms as he approached and he was quick to embrace you, holding you tightly against his body. “How was class?” he asked into your shoulder, not ready to let you go just yet.
“Tiring,” you sighed.
“I know, baby.” He withdrew his frame from yours only slightly, giving himself a better view of your features. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear gently before speaking again. "I've got a surprise for you. Hopefully it'll help lift your spirits up."
"What does that mea-" Before you could even finish he was gone, disappearing back into the bedroom.
There was a brief silence before Xiaojun reappeared, poking his head around the doorframe. "Come on, check it out."
Approaching slowly, you pushed the door until it was fully open, your jaw falling slack at the view before you.
"I know it's been a while since we've gone, but I thought maybe it'd be nice to unwind a little." Two bicycles leaned propped up on their stands, accompanied by an overfilled basket resting at the foot of your bed. It didn't take much explaining, you and Xiaojun had gone on more picnic dates than you could count. It started as a shy gesture, a polite invitation, as many of your firsts were. But over the course of time you had made a routine out of it, always looking forward to the end of a long, draining week when you could go enjoy the scent of flowers and listen to the birds sing alongside the person you loved most.
It was another aspect of your life that you had started missing more and more as you fell out of the habit without even realizing so. A smile crept across your visage at the repetition of the reminder that Xiaojun really did know you better than you knew yourself, and no matter the obstacle you were going up against, he always knew how to bring you back down to earth.
"Well, let's not lose any more daylight, yeah?" Your fingers tightened around the worn in bicycle handles, kicking up its stand with a beaming grin.
Realistically, the park was only a short walk away from your apartment, but Xiaojun was far too much of a romantic for that, so you carried the basket down the stairs to the street as he (oh so glamorously) maneuvered both of the bikes behind you. Once you were both outside, taking your first breaths of clean, fresh air, you passed the basket to him and he hung it securely between the handlebars.
"Good evening, Kun," you greeted the shop owner warmly, surprised to see him collecting the chalkboard from the bakery's front entrance at this hour. "Closing up shop early?"
"Just this once," he responded lightly, tucking the board under his arm. "It's the wife's birthday today. Her cupcakes should be ready to be iced any minute, and then I'm out. Was there anything you wanted to grab before you go?" Living above the little shop naturally made the pair of you quite regular visitors.
"Thank you, but I think we're fully stocked for today."
"Actually," Xiaojun chimed in, reaching into his pocket, "Do you have any cherry scones left?"
Lifting his finger in a "one moment" gesture, Kun retreated into the sweet-smelling haven, reappearing with a small brown bag in his grasp. "Exactly two. You came at just the right time." He extended his arms, offering the bag to Xiaojun.
"Thank you," Xiaojun spoke, taking the bag and stowing it away safely with the other goodies. "How much?"
"Nonsense, you can have it." Bewilderment must have been painted on both of your faces, so through laughter Kun continued, "It's on me, really. They'd be getting thrown away otherwise anyway."
Pocketing his wallet, Xiaojun smiled widely at him. "Thank you so much." He mounted his bike and started pedaling. "Tell your wife we said happy birthday!"
When you were sure he wasn't looking, you grabbed a few bills from your own pocket and shoved them into Kun's hands in the name of a tip, and then you were on your way.
Maybe you were a romantic too. Long ago you had tried to make a practice out of seeing beauty in all things, no matter how mundane, but there was just something about the way Xiaojun's blonde hair danced with the wind. That, in addition to his caramel skin and relaxed grey tee, created an exquisite palette with the leaves falling around you.
Before you knew it, you had arrived, and at your convenience it didn't seem that too many people had decided to enjoy the park's ambience on that particular day. You left your bicycles at the rack near the entrance, and took the trail towards the open field on foot. Xiaojun didn't skip a beat between collecting the basket in one hand and yours in the other. You grinned. He was nothing if not a gentleman.
There was an oak tree that seemed to stand what must have been a mile high, a miracle of nature that always left you breathless. Not only was it incomparable in beauty, but it was also the home of your first kiss with the boy whose hand was laced within your own. He led you there wordlessly, withdrawing his signature checkered blanket from the basket and spreading it across the grass beneath you.
"I didn't have too much time," he began, settling down on the gentle fabric and opening up the basket, finally revealing its contents to you. "But I made sandwiches!"
"Sandwiches are perfect." You sat beside him, grabbing one of the two carefully-wrapped meals.
Nothing was said over the next few moments. Not that much had to be, anyway; you were beyond content with appreciating the way Xiaojun looked with the sun setting low into the trees behind him. "I love you," you said, ending the silence.
Slight confusion, but endearment would be the best way to describe Xiaojun's expression in response to your statement. He finished the mouthful of peanut butter and jelly he was munching on before saying "I love you, too," with a light laugh.
That ice breaker ended up being all the pair of you needed to fall into hours worth of conversation about anything that crossed your minds and, if you were honest, you really needed it. Going to the park with him and separating yourself from everything else going on in your life was rejuvenating. By the time the sun had completely set below the horizon, Xiaojun's head had found a resting position in your lap as you read from a new novel you had picked up recently. The hand that wasn't holding open the book was absentmindedly running through his soft hair.
The night grew cold, and once the street lamps were the only source of light left to guide you, you decided it was time to go home. "This was fun," Xiaojun cracked, a smile poking at the corner of his lips, effectively ruining his facade, "We should do it again sometime."
You recognized his comment to be the same one that he made after your first visit to the park together. Playing along, you brought him closer to you by the hand and said, "I think I'd like that."
Xiaojun had love in his eyes as he pulled you in the rest of the way, and he perfectly ended your excursion with a cherry-flavored kiss.
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hi okay i know i didn’t say i was gonna post something like this and i’m lowkey super nervous about how people will react but if you enjoyed this please say so!!! i had so much fun writing it and if anyone wants me to (hint hint: my ask box) i’d love to write more things on this blog in the future!! :D let me know hehe
#wayvnet#xiaojun x reader#xiaojun scenario#xiaojun fluff#xiaojun imagine#xiaojun#xiao dejun#mine#wayv scenario#wayv x reader#wayv fluff#wayv imagine#fic
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