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mokutone · 3 years

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yo i would love to hear some of ur trans yam headcanons :) (also ps ur art is breathtaking and whenever i see it reblogged on my dash i always come here anyway to read ur tags bc they r so! good!)

thank u 🥺🥺🥺 god im sorry this has been sitting in my inbox for a couple days ksdjghsdkjgh not only have i got a LOT of thoughts to put here (this is only a selection of the bigger thoughts skdjghsdkjhg) i was also super busy the past few days!!!! ty for ur patience, ur compliments, and for inviting me to ramble abt my favorite guy!

maybe the one constant in all trans people is just like. our decision to intentionally and purposefully create ourselves, to forced into an identity by outside forces and to turn away from it in search of something else, and that’s ultimately what makes captain yamato read as a trans character to me! He goes through so many identities, and they are meaningful to him, but you can also clearly tell that he’s searching for something that really fits him.

I don’t really have a lot of firm thoughts on what his specific identity would be, I’ve seen some great nonbinary yams, some lovely genderfluid yams, trans guy yams, there’s a great variety and i delight in them all!

I tend to imagine him as transmasculine and nonbinary but male aligned (which means he’d feel at least a partial connection to or comfort with masculinity) and while there are a bunch of labels for this experience of gender (demiboy, bigender, etc etc) i don’t see him as somebody who would use any specific labels, I feel like he’d keep his own experience of his gender fairly private! He’d prefer and be fine with masculine-coded terms of address, and happy enough passing as a guy.

AHH and on names...

I think Kinoe is the only name that I really see as like. a genuine deadname. It’s a name that means “The First” to my understanding, and so like, probably refers to him having the genetics of the first. Therefore, it’s kind of. literally a name referring to him as his biology...boy thats as deadname as it gets, huh? kill that shit and also danzō

Tenzō is also a name thats given to him, but to my understanding (all I know about the anbu arc is picked up thru osmosis lol) it’s a name that’s given to him twice, with affection. Once from Yukimi, who sees him as her brother (not a vessel for the first hokage’s powers, probably for the first time ever—even if it’s still another person’s name) He takes the name, gladly! Unfortunately danzō. anyway,

Later, when he starts to introduce himself to the non-root Anbu as Kinoe, Kakashi cuts him off and names him to the anbu as Tenzō. To my understanding: it’s a name at rest, not a name for one singular mission, but a name for his entire time in Anbu. It’s the name he keeps the longest. Again, it’s a name that’s given to him to him by somebody else, but it’s one that is given with the intention to free him of Kinoe, and all that Kinoe had to be.

(A note on him getting annoyed with Kakashi for calling him Tenzō in main-plot:

Most of this is of course based off of personal experience, but I find it hard to believe that he would actively dislike Tenzō as a name since it was given with such sweet intentions—most of my names have been gifts, and the only one I’ve actively taken out of rotation has been bc i cannot stand the person who used it, and the way it was used, and while Anbu was certainly bad for Yamato...I don’t think it was quite that bad. I think him telling Kakashi to stop calling him Tenzō has more to do with the use of it where it doesn’t belong—for example, while it’s not exactly a name, I am happy to be called “mokutone” here, and you may notice my friends calling me by another name, but if any of those friends called me mokutone in DMs, I would be bothered by that.)

Yamato starts off as an empty codename, given to him for the purposes of his team 7 mission by the Hokage, but I think it gets such a loving and warm association from just...using out in the sunlight, with these kids that he comes to think so fondly of (he’s such a dad. god. he’s such a fucking dad) and with the friends he makes going out drinking and actually having time to socialize—and that means a lot! I think Yamato is probably the name which becomes most meaningful and like a home to him by the end of the series. This is the active name, the name where he is most himself. It’s vital for him to have that space to grow into!

But that said, I personally feel like, if he were to continue beyond the edges of the story, this would not be the final name he bears. He’s probably well aware that a single name cannot contain who he is, or who he wants to be, and while being Given a name can be a beautiful thing (like i said, most of my names are gifts! i treasure them.) I think that, for his character arc, I would like him to name himself at some point. Even if it’s a name that only exists for private spaces, I want him to complete that self determination, to at least try it out, even if ultimately Yamato is the name everyone else will know him by.

Physical Transition Stuff

i will confess i hurt to imagine these shinobi binding 😭😭 even if an individual is binding safely (well made binder, no more than 8 hours, AND No Physically Intense Activity) they stand to risk hurting themself! In real life we gotta balance out the physical pain and the pain of dysphoria, but this is naruto and I’m Gonna Play Some Headcanon Games!

If chakra is both a kind of spiritual energy as well as directly connected to the body (as we learned in the hyūga fight) then it stands to reason that by manipulating ones own chakra, they can manipulate the body, or at least the way the body changes (such as naruto’s healing factor)

This probably is not the safest thing to do unless you’re a mednin or following the directions of one, LMAO

The second the hell of puberty started up for Tenzō he tried to hold it back by sheer force of willpower + chakra manipulation alone

but, manually controlling one’s chakra is like trying to prevent a stream from flowing with your hands alone, which is to say: an exhausting uphill battle.

He’d probably only be doing it on his down time and not on a mission, but even still the most I bet he could make it doing that without getting figured out is two months.

Luckily blockers are readily available, Tenzō just had no idea and, gender being a private experience for him, was trying to handle the whole thing entirely on his own. Soon after attempting to self-regulate hormones him-fucking-self like a very valid but desperate fool, he gets an appointment, gets a prescription, and can chill out and not have to be as hellishly aware of his body constantly.

Konoha mednin will say trans rights even if the village itself is garbage, this series is so god damn weird already, nobody can tell me a ninja taking hormones is somehow weirder than a ninja taking his dead best friends genetic superpower eye.

TWO WEEKS, THREE SPARS, AND ONE VERY EMOTIONALLY DRAINING CONVERSATION LATER:

u might think kakashi is passing him a water bottle and they both look so exhausted bc its post spar but no. physically theyre fine, but the emotional toll of having to talk about something either of them care at all about? miracle they survived.

#lesbians4tenten #Tenzō #yamato #headcanons #kakashi says that so heavily bc both of them hate going to the hospital but blood tests are necessary for HRT usually #also kakashi is definitely trans as well. i have less headcanons about that bc i see him as like. Even More Private than yamato #(he hides 3/4 of his face. trans icon. also personal privacy icon.)#so like skdjghdskjhg him getting involved is not a moment of Concerned Cis Meddling but like. 'ghghhg this is bad. i gotta step in'#i hc that like he was one of those kids that by the time he was four he was like hey dad im a boy and sakumo was like. fuck ok!#i guess i got a son now!#yamato just did not think about it much #also while i see him having long hair as inherently him repressing his identity it has nothing to do with long hair being 'feminine'#esp bc most of the older men in naruto have long hair. sakumo j*raiya orochimaru madara the whole hyūga clan of men #but instead much more to do with. him repressing being tenzō in order to be kinoe for danzō #and if hashirama had long hair. and all he is is a weapon for hashiramas power to be used through. he too will have long hair.#its also why i wont draw yamato with long hair. while he is handsome with long hair...and an argument COULD be made for him reclaiming it #i feel like aesthetically it represents a return to a relationship he had with his body and with the idea of hashirama #that i am not interested in exploring #perhaps in sage mode it goes very long. and then he has a friend cut it off for him every time #that i could draw #ANYWAY I think everyone should have as many names as they want. you want to be called something? that's your name now congratulations #trans? cis? not sure? doesn't matter the world is your oyster and you can be called anything you want #if people dont respect that theyre jealous and being rude af lmao #image desc in alt text #for all thats worth

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sleepless-in-starbucks · 4 years

Text

(Let Me) Cover Your Eyes

Ao3

Summary: Remy’s a queen, but that doesn’t mean they get any rights. Logan’s not even a noble, but that doesn’t mean ay can’t do something. Content: Arranged marriage, sensory overload, references to noncon/dubcon kissing, one implication of possible future noncon/dubcon sex (none actually happens, just vaguely mentioned), basically being treated like a slave, one instance of self-harm, mentioned starvation, fear about being caught, misgendering (some accidental, some purposeful but for good reason), magic au, genderfluid!remy, nb!logan Pairing: Platonic losleep Note: There’s an oc in this referred to just as ‘the king’- he’s not meant to be a certain character or anything, he’s just an oc

If you asked anyone who knew her how Remy felt about parties, you would get the same answer from all of them: she loved them. She wore the most exquisite gowns and the most beautiful jewels to them, face made up in bright colours that highlighted her ever-present smile, mingling and laughing with all who attended. They were one of her greatest joys.

All of these people would be wrong. And this would be because they weren’t describing Remy- they were describing Maria.

Remy hated parties. The outfits she wore to them were too tight and difficult to move in, the jewelry paired with them clunky and not flattering to her. She wore so much make-up it felt as if breathing too hard would mess it up, and she felt suffocated beneath the smiles she couldn’t drop as she forced herself to interact with the masses. They were awful, and they made her feel awful.

But that didn’t stop them from occurring twice a month, and that didn’t stop Remy from having to go to them, always dolled up to the point you could barely tell she was anything more than a statue of perfect pose and restrained emotion.

That’s all she was, after all. Marriage may have deemed her a queen, but birth had deemed her a doll to be controlled and admired by others, and birth always won out.

So when the king (her husband, she could have said, but they both knew that wasn’t the purpose of their marriage, so there wasn’t really any reason to pretend otherwise) reminded her of the ball that evening and told her to get ready, she did. Even if her skin crawled and she wished she could do anything else, she did.

Her casual clothes were swapped out for a dark green ball gown that was much too tight around her stomach and much too loose everywhere else. She was adorned in heavy gold jewelry from head to toe, and her face was painted white and detailed like a mask of glittering emeralds and sapphires. And for the final touch, her sunglasses were taken from her and replaced with the reminder to smile.

“You look beautiful.” The king commented as Remy once more joined him. He was barely changed from earlier, his robes straightened a bit and little else. He wasn’t the one who was going to be on display.

“Thank you.” Remy said, but the response was hollow. The king’s words had been no compliment, simply a satisfied remark that his showpiece was prepared for the evening.

At the king’s prompting, Remy slipped her arm in his, wishing this gown had been one of the ones that came with gloves. The party would be hell on her senses no matter what, but the little things did help.

But, Remy supposed, she was already lucky enough she was a woman at the moment. Sure, she’d feel like hell and still be forced to act as if she was in heaven, but at least she wouldn’t be misgendered.

Little things.

The party had gone downhill for Remy at about the same rate as always; aka, really fucking fast.

The lights were too bright on their own, traditional candles covering practically every inch of the walls while the chandeliers above were lit up by crystallized sunlight, all of it made worse by the hundreds of gems that reflected the light even more throughout the room. The colours of outfit amongst the partygoers were violent clashes of manageable darks and painfully bright neons. Chinking glasses and overlapping conversations echoed in the large ballroom. Everything was too much, and to top it all off Remy’s gender had shifted again, the pesky thing, and now every addressal of ‘my queen’ made them feel sick.

Not that you could have guessed any of that, looking at Remy. They were used to it, after all. Used to everything being so much it made it hard to talk or think or breathe, used to feeling as if their skin was buzzing with the amount of hands they were shaking, used to smiling through it all as if they were enjoying themself and not crumbling piece by piece, only to be put back together again just in time for the next party.

It would be easy if it didn’t hurt so much.

Barely an hour into the party and Remy was ready to find a corner and press themself into it until they simply didn’t exist anymore. Every minute afterwards only got worse, and were it not for the eyes of the guards at every door and corner constantly on them Remy would’ve just left and faced the consequences later.

And of course, because Remy was already having such a wonderful evening, things went from bad to utterly terrible in the space of a few too-fast heartbeats.

The most recent noble Remy had struck up conversation with had been charming, in a good way. They hadn’t tried to shake Remy’s hand, something Remy was immensely grateful for, and they kept their attention towards the crowd around them as they chatted, not staring uncomfortably at Remy’s face like everyone else did. Remy wouldn’t say they were happy talking to them, but it was certainly the best interaction they had had that evening.

And then they asked Remy to stay put while they spoke to the king, and everything was right back to being horrible.

Remy wasn’t surprised when the noble returned to lead them outside, out onto the low balcony set in the back of the palace. It was a lovely night, after all, temperate and cloudless, and going to a bedroom would’ve been pointless anyways. It was still a few months before their first year with the king was up, and tradition was tradition, even if the king was much too preoccupied with peace treaties and border shifts to pay Remy any ‘attention.’

They stepped out onto the balcony before the noble, taking in a breath of the cool air while they waited for the noble to close the door and make their move. Remy wasn’t sure what to expect, only knowing that the most seemingly charming nobles were the worst in this regard.

Soon enough, they were in front of Remy, for the first time that evening looking them in their eyes. Remy wasn’t surprised. They were gorgeous, after all, the whole spectrum of colour twisting and turning in their irises, never stopping. Remy had expected them to look eventually. That was why they were on display.

Lost in their thoughts, Remy didn’t notice that the noble was offering them something until they spoke up, their tone clear and the slightest bit concerned, “Here.”

Remy thought they were directing them in some manner. Instead, their hand was out, palm up, offering Remy…

“Sunglasses?” Remy said, confused. They weren’t supposed to cover their eyes at parties, for the express purpose of ensuring all the guests could see them. It was practically etiquette for beings like them. “The king won’t allow it.”

“He can’t see you right now.” The noble pointed out evenly, as if they were simply stating a fact. When Remy didn’t respond to that, they added, “You’re uncomfortable. These will help.”

Part of Remy was still untrusting of the noble’s offer. It was too likely this was simply a trap, some sort of twisted test to see if Remy would respond properly.

But Remy really did want to put the sunglasses on, to once more quiet the world, consequences be damned. Plus, there was something… unplaceable about this noble. Remy was loath to call them trustworthy, but they didn’t inspire distrust nearly as much as anyone else Remy was forced to know, and that meant something to Remy.

So they accepted the sunglasses.

Immediately after putting them on, Remy could feel their senses quieting, the new muted, dark appearance to the world around them convincing some primal part of their brain that they no longer needed to be on full alert. Remy’s dulled senses were roughly on par with a human’s full-alert ones, something that made the human world much easier to bear. Their skin was still crawling, too much touch not something that could just be blocked out at a moment’s notice, but that was alright with Remy. Something was better than nothing. They didn’t need everything.

The noble, however, didn’t seem as satisfied. They were frowning, head tilted as they looked at Remy.

“You’re still uncomfortable.” They observed, which Remy supposed wasn’t too surprising. They were good at acting okay, but it wasn’t a waterproof facade. Just good enough so that nobles who didn’t care weren’t forced to feel uncomfortable due to Remy’s own discomfort.

“I’m fine.” Remy lied, trying to maintain the facade, as always. “Now, are you-”

Before they could finish their sentence, Remy was stopped by the noble shrugging off their dark blue and silver embroidered jacket, leaving them in a matching tie and black button-up as they offered the jacket to Remy. “Here. The pressure should help with your crawling skin, so long as the fabric doesn’t upset you.”

Now that? That was odd.

“How did you know my skin was crawling?” Remy asked as they accepted the jacket. They had been given ‘favors’ before, so there was no danger in wearing the noble’s. There might’ve been a time when there was, but Remy had been careful to insure otherwise.

“I’m an empath.” The noble answered.

Remy nodded, now only slightly confused. While being an empath did answer their original question, it also proposed a new one: what were they doing here? Empaths were not considered of high social standing, but instead as workers, made to help lift others up and be crushed under foot if they weren’t careful. The only way an empath would be at one of the king’s parties was if they were rich beyond good reason, and Remy found those types were never charming.

Trying to put their confusion out of mind, Remy pulled on the jacket, feeling relieved almost immediately. The jacket was heavy, but not tight or restricting, and the material of it felt nice against their skin. Though there was still the lingering feel of everyone who had touched them in the last hour, it was mostly gone, blocked out by the jacket.

“You’re comfortable now. Good.” The noble observed, and Remy felt their heart rate spike, even if only for a moment. So that was their angle. Comfortable. At least it was classy.

“I suppose I am.” Remy responded, as neutrally as possible. Of course the empath would want them to be comfortable, wouldn’t want to sense any negative emotions from Remy. And if Remy had any chance of making sure they didn’t have to deal with any of said emotions, they’d have to start working on blocking them out now.

The noble nodded, and Remy was ready, ready for them to make their move, to step forward or grab Remy’s hips or angle their chin or-

“May we talk?”

Once more, Remy found their thoughts slamming to a stop, the change in course sudden and completely unpredictable. Talk? Why would the noble want to talk?

“You’re confused.” The noble pointed out unhelpfully.

“I- Why aren’t you kissing me?” Remy blurted out before they could stop themself. They knew it was rude, and in horrible form, and if the king was anywhere nearby he’d be having a fit, but for the moment Remy didn’t care. They could only hold off sickening anticipation for so long, and they just wanted this over and done with as soon as possible.

In response, the noble blinked at Remy. Once. Twice. Coughed, adjusted their glasses, looked away a moment.

“Apologies.” They said, sounding awkward. “It appears I failed to properly explain the situation to you when I first left you to find the king. I have no desire to kiss you, I merely wish to talk to you.”

“That’s not why people normally bring me out onto the balcony.”

The noble ran a hand through their long dark hair, the quick, unthinking action giving Remy the impression it was a nervous habit. “And that is part of the reason I am here. But I assure you, I only want to converse. Nothing else.”

“...It’s your money.” Remy finally said, the noble’s uncomfortableness with the whole thing convincing them that they spoke the truth. The noble simply nodded, looking relieved that that conversation was over.

“It is best we speak outside of sight of possibly prying eyes.” They said, gesturing towards one of the balcony’s corners that meant the wall of the palace. Only in pressing their faces to the glass would anyone be able to see them there. Remy made no complaint, allowing themself to be pulled over to the corner, trying to ignore how many times they had been pushed into it.

Once they were situated there, the noble standing directly in the corner and Remy in front of them with more personal space than they normally got out here but also not nearly enough, the empath spoke.

“I do not think I remembered to introduce myself earlier- I am Logan, ay-em-air pronouns, empath.” Logan told Remy, only sparking their confusion as to what ay was doing at a party for nobles even more. The breaking of the gender binary was considered informal, improper, and a peasant thing to do. All nobles were cis, or at least acted as if they were. Logan being open with air identity was just another strike against em being a proper noble, much less one invited to balls. So why was ay here?

“May I ask your name and pronouns?”

Remy frowned. “I’m Maria, the queen, I-”

“You can’t lie to an empath. Not easily, anyways.” Logan corrected, offering Remy a small smile. “Even without my magic, it’s easy to tell you weren’t at ease when the others addressed you by such terms. While I understand your inability to correct them, I assure you, you will face no consequences for being honest to me.”

Logan’s ability to seem trustworthy despite giving Remy very little concrete reason to trust em was beginning to become annoying. But it still won out in the end, and Remy found themself quietly admitting, “I prefer to go by Remy. They-them works for now.”

“Alright then, Remy,” Logan began, prompting a brief small smile from Remy, “I have a question for you.”

“Oh?”

“Do you want to leave?”

Remy tilted their head to the side, confused. “Leave where?”

“Here. The palace.”

“Surely you know I can’t do that, babe.” Remy said, biting down on their tongue hard the moment the sentence was out of their mouth. Petnames weren’t proper, they weren’t noble, and they weren’t used by royals. The king hated hearing them, and was always quick to use Remy’s slip-up as a chance to remind them they were queen by title only, that there was no royalty in their blood and never would be. The verbal reminder was easy enough to block out and ignore, but the days without food? Not so much.

Remy swallowed before continuing, trying to clean their mouth of the fresh taste of blood. “Only the king can take me off the grounds.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Logan replied evenly. “I asked if you want to leave.”

“Of course I do.” Remy said, quickly glancing back to check no one was trying to approach them, turning back towards Logan when they didn’t see anything or anyone. “But that doesn’t exactly matter. Want to or not, I have to stay in the palace.”

“You don’t have to.” Logan corrected. “I can help you escape. You can leave.”

“No offense, su- Logan, but you and what army?” Remy asked, vaguely gesturing behind Logan. “The walls surrounding the palace are enchanted, there are four guards stationed at the gate and dozens more all across the grounds, and if I’m absent too long I will be sought out. I can’t just leave because you’re escorting me.”

Logan didn’t respond to that immediately, instead looking past Remy for a moment, likely at the doors to the balcony. After a moment, ay gave air attention back to Remy as ay spoke. “I understand your desire to have more concrete facts and reasonings behind what I say, but I do not have the time to answer all your questions now. I can get you out of here, but you have to trust me, and we must leave now, before we’re out of time.”

Remy bit their lip, hesitating. “If I’m caught…”

“You won’t be.” Logan assured them. “But as I said, you have to trust me, and we must leave now. Do you want to be free again, Remy?”

The question was more than just whether or not Remy wanted to be free, they knew. It wasn’t asking if Remy wanted to be free in a vacuum, asking whether or not they preferred freedom to what was more or less enslavement. It was asking if they were willing to take a risk for freedom, if they were willing to be free at a cost, if they were willing to take their chances at freedom despite the danger. It was asking if they were willing to trust Logan.

They shouldn’t have been. No one could be trusted, not anymore.

And yet…

“Yeah.” Remy answered, letting out a shaky breath as they wrapped their arms around themself. Logan’s jacket pressing closer against their skin, reassuring Remy, if only a bit. “I’ll trust you.”

The hint of a smile flickered over Logan’s face. “Good.” Ay said, before proceeding to flip emself over the balcony railing without even glancing back first.

Remy knew ay was probably fine, the drop not being a large one, and Logan clearly being prepared for the move, but it was still sudden enough to shock Remy into pushing themself against the balcony railing, making sure ay really was okay.

Ay was- at least, Remy was fairly certain an injured person wouldn’t be so focused on adjusting air tie. Ay flattened it down against air chest before ay looked up at Remy.

“Your turn.” Ay called up, only as loud as ay needed to be. Ay also opened up air arms, clearly planning to catch Remy.

Remy just scoffed to themself and jumped to the side of em, landing firmly on the ground.

Logan looked mildly impressed, raising an eyebrow at Remy. Remy shrugged. “I’m not completely helpless.”

“Never said you were.” Logan defended, though air expression was odd in a way Remy couldn’t place. Ay only allowed for a moment of staring, however, before ay turned from Remy. “This way.”

With that, ay set off across the expansive palace yard, Remy following close behind em. They were on high alert, constantly waiting to spot one of the many wandering guards who patrolled the estate day and night, but to their surprise, none seemed to be around.

Soon enough, the two of them came to the path that connected the gate to the palace, made of glistening white pebbles and smooth marble. Remy expected Logan to lead them over the path and back into the yard, where ay would soon enough lead them to a hole in the wall or something similar. What Remy hadn’t expected, however, was for Logan to stop on the path and begin heading towards the gate.

Remy grabbed air arm before ay could make it far, hissing under their breath, “What are you doing?!”

In response, Logan offered Remy a small smile, carefully looped their arms together so as that ay wasn’t too close or touching them too much, and once more moved forward, murmuring, “Trust me,” under air breath.

Only against every logical bone in their body did Remy do so, trying to focus on not falling over as Logan led them forwards, closer and closer to what Remy was certain would be the doom and ruin of this plan.

As soon as they were close enough to be recognized, the two guards stationed on the inside of the gate drew their swords, pointing them at Logan and Remy, and Remy was fairly certain their heart rate had never been higher than in that moment.

“The queen doesn’t leave the palace grounds.” One of the guards said, as if there was some way Logan could be unaware of the fact.

“Return to the party.” The other added, brandishing their blade just a touch to reinforce the point. “Unless you’d like things to get messy.”

Once again, Remy expected Logan to respond with some sort of attack, via a blade hidden in air boot or something of the like.

Once again, Remy expected the wrong thing.

Because instead of attempting to fight the guards, or even to just turn around and head back to the party, Logan simply smiled and said in a voice that didn’t sound entirely like air own, “The king has instructed me to take the lovely queen Maria out, for reasons of his own. Would you stand against the will of the king?”

One of the guards lowered their sword as soon as Logan had finished speaking, looking abashed for having challenged em. They stepped back, indicating that they would allow the two of them to pass.

The other guard hesitated for a moment, sword lowering, but they didn’t step back. “The king’s never done anything like this before. Do you have any proof of your claims?”

“You challenge the king’s wishes?” Logan replied, which Remy thought was a horribly suspicious answer.

The other guard seemingly didn’t agree, however, looking away from Logan as they sheathed their sword and stepped back. “My apologies, my liege.”

Logan curtly nodded once at the guard before moving forwards, having to tug a bit on Remy’s arm to get them to move as well. The guards made no move to ambush them or question them as they passed through the gate, simply remaining to the side, looking away from Logan.

“How did you do that?” Remy whispered to Logan as they passed under the archway of the gate, for a moment left alone in near-darkness.

“Ask me later.” Was Logan’s only response, and a moment later they were on the other side of the gate and the wall, officially outside of the palace. It was nothing much to look at, simply a round parking lot lined with cars and carriages of varying aesthetics, the road leading back towards the rest of society, trees to the left and water to the right, but it was still breathtaking to Remy. The last time they had been outside the castle walls had been nearly a year ago, and the same walls tended to grow boring fast.

“Hey! Is that the queen?!”

Ah, right. The second set of guards. Well, freedom had been sweet while it lasted, at least.

Logan didn’t seem nearly as ready to fold, however, looking between the two new guards and the two new swords being pointed at em as if ay was looking at old friends and balloons.

“It is indeed. The king has requested she be taken outside of the palace, for purposes of her safety.” Logan said, voice smooth and almost honey-like, drawing the guards in and making Remy feel as if everything about the situation was just a bit too sweet tasting. “He wishes all guards to be relocated within the palace walls until the issue has been addressed.”

Just as with the first guard from before, these guards seemed over-eager to do as Logan had asked, nodding at em as they hurried past the two of them and inside the king’s estate. Remy turned to watch them go, and that’s when it clicked.

“You’re an illusionist.” Remy said, turning back to look at Logan, eyes wide behind their sunglasses. “I thought you said you were-”

“I’m both.” Logan answered prematurely, letting go of Remy’s arms and stepping within the circle of parked vehicles. “Pick one of these for me, would you?”

Remy gave a distracted look around before pointing at one of the carriages, one with a framework of gold and crimson red silk wrapped around it. “I didn’t think it was possible to be an empath and an illusionist.”

“It is possible.” Logan responded vaguely as ay moved towards the carriage Remy had pointed out, checking inside of it quickly before moving to stand at the back side of it. “Care to assist me?”

“With what?” Remy inquired even as they came to stand beside Logan.

“We’re going to push this into the ocean.” Logan said, gesturing air head in the direction of the water. “The ground here is packed down hard enough it won’t leave enough tracks for anyone to see. Seeing the missing carriage, the king and his guards will assume we left for the town in it.”

“Where will we actually be?”

“In the forest, on the trail to a place I know you will be safe.” Logan explained as ay put air hands on the back of the carriage. “Could you kick out the block of wood, right up there, in front of the back wheel?”

Remy did so, and the carriage lurched forwards almost immediately, albeit in the wrong direction. They moved to join Logan at the back, helping to push it in the right direction as much as they could.

It took longer than Remy would’ve liked, but soon enough they were at the edge, and the carriage was over it, smashed against the jutting side of the cliff before being swallowed by the waves below. They remained there for a moment, Remy enjoying the feel of sea spray and the smell of the ocean while Logan caught air breath.

“How can you exist?” Remy asked after a few minutes, still watching the crashing and foaming waves as they spoke. “Empaths and illusionists are opposite classes of the same magic. You can’t be both.”

“That’s just something cowards say.” Logan responded, but neither the tone nor the phrasing sat right with Remy. They glanced over, catching Logan’s gaze, and ay sighed.

“I’ve accepted the consequences of my choices. There’s no point in wondering after things that are already set in figurative stone.” Ay said, not leaving any room for follow-up questions. “The sooner we leave, the less likely it is they will catch us. Are you ready to leave, Remy?”

Remy glanced back at the palace, at the harsh stone walls that had imprisoned them, at the tops of the towers they used to wander pointlessly for hours with nothing to do, at the bright lights that had only ever given them horrible headaches.

“I’ve wanted to leave that place even before I was in it.” Remy answered, turning away from it to look at Logan. “Let’s go.”

Logan nodded before turning away from the ocean, leading Remy in the opposite direction.

And with the palace, and everyone and everything within it, behind them, Remy and Logan disappeared into the forest.

#losleep #platonic losleep #ts logan #ts remy #ts sleep #write losleep cowards #fanfic #fanfiction #ts sides #sanders sides #genderfluid!remy #nb!logan #i mentally wrote more for this au than i did for this fic skdjf #if y'all confused about anything or just curious let me know because boi oh boi do i have Lore

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starlocked01 · 4 years

Text

Second Glances

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: Roman has spent years making his aesthetic Gay TM and yet his soulmate's first impression of him is that he's straight. What has he done so horribly wrong? Nothing, but first impressions often are wrong.

Day 18 Prinxiety- Your Soulmate’s first impression of you is written on your skin somewhere

Damn it all the cute ones are straight

The mark appeared on Roman’s 18th birthday at midnight and frankly, he was mortified. He had been out and proud for the past two years and almost always had a rainbow flag somewhere on his person or belongings. How in the world could his soulmate get such an incorrect idea of him?

He interrogated all his friends at school to see if any of them had crushes on him and had thought he was straight but with no luck. Apparently they all had better gaydar than his soulmate.

Roman didn't have much time to worry about soulmates though because in just a few weeks he and his twin were moving into the dorms for freshman year of college. They packed up their entire room and wondered what their roommates would be like.

"I don't know Ro, what if they don't accept me or get uncomfortable with me?" Remus ran his fingers through his hair. He'd been growing it out almost a year now.

"Then I will kick their ass and get you a new roommate. Simple," Roman reassured Remus.

"Heh, thanks Ro," Remus smiled, still visibly nervous.

Roman grinned, "no one hurts my sibling and gets away with it."

On move-in day everything was a whirlwind. The car was packed past full and Roman was a ball of nervous energy.

"Remus, are you ready?" he called up the stairs.

"It's Renee today!" she called back down, appearing at the top of the stairs.

"Oops! My bad. Ready to go, sis?" Roman smiled broadly as she walked down, fussing with her skirt.

"Yeah!"

"Let's go! College here we come!"

Renee was unusually quiet during the drive. Roman spared as many glances away from the road as he could.

"You okay, hon?" He asked gently.

She nodded slowly, "are you sure I won't get funny looks during move in? Should I change into something masc before we get there?"

"No, you will do no such thing. It's a co-ed dorm, Ren. And I'm literally right down the hall," Roman shook his head.

Renee glanced down at her palm, "do you think I'll meet my soulmate today? I mean there's gonna be a lot of people there and it is a fem day…"

Roman smiled, "anything is possible, sis. Just keep being your beautiful self."

Thoughts of soulmates reminded Roman of his own frustrating mark. He kinda wondered what his soulmate’s mark said. Guess he'd think it sooner or later.

After the slightest confusion at sign in, he and Renee were ready to move into their dorm rooms. He decided to help Renee with her stuff first (and to make sure any roommate would know who they had to answer to). They were carrying in their first boxes and found her roommate already unpacked and chilling out at a desk with a book on existential philosophers.

The boy looked up and Roman and smiled extending a hand as he and Renee set down their boxes, "you must be Remus. I'm Janus. Nice to meet you."

Roman glared and opened his mouth to reprimand Janus but Renee spoke up first, "actually, I'm Renee!" she took Janus’ hand and shook it, "Remus is my legal name."

"Oh. Oh, my apologies! You would think I would know not to assume," Janus laughed uncomfortably, "sorry, Renee. It's charming to meet you."

"I'm Roman, her twin brother," Roman's mouth twitched. He was ready to cause a scene if things went south.

"Well, actually this is rather fortunate," Janus looked between the two twins, "I get the feeling you two will be understanding. I'm nonbinary and go by sie/sier pronouns. Again, I apologize for assuming. I hope we can get off on a better second impression."

Renee giggled, "that's so cool! I'm actually genderfluid. We can talk more later though, Roman and I still have to unpack all his stuff too."

Roman sighed in relief and turned to go get the next load of Renee's stuff.

After moving all her boxes from the car, Renee and Janus both helped Roman move his stuff into a room just down the hall from them. Even with moving Renee first, Roman’s roommate was nowhere to be found and he wondered if he lucked out with a no-show roommate and accidental single dorm room.

Renee was bubbly and excited, talking about her roommate and sier interests and opinions. Renee was already pretty infatuated with sier. Roman started to unpack his clothing.

"Ro, this is going to be the best! I'm so excited I can't contain it!" she started bouncing on the bed. Roman chuckled and pulled her into a tight hug.

Just then he saw a boy drowning in a purple and black hoodie stop at the door, double-checking the door number. He was so skinny, the only thing Roman could think was Tim Burton Reject but like Cute. The boy caught sight of Roman and Renee hugging and Roman almost thought he saw the 5 stages of grief flash through his eyes.

"Uh, should I come back later? I think this is my room…"

Roman grinned and walked over to the door, "come on in! Virgil right?" Virgil nodded, "hi, I'm Roman! This is Renee. Need help with your stuff?"

Renee waved and Virgil set his box down, "um sure, thanks."

Renee fiddled with her skirt, "Ro, I'm gonna go change."

"Okay, cool. Name when you get back?"

She skipped out of the room, "Reagan! Thanks Ro!"

Roman chuckled and smiled at Virgil, "you'll get used to them. They're genderfluid and switch kinda frequently."

Virgil nodded and started back down the hall to his car, "how long have you known each other?" His voice was tinted with barely noticeable jealousy.

"Since the day we were born. Reagan is my twin," Roman followed his roommate, oblivious to the confusion on his face.

"Wait.. siblings… ohhhh, oh thank god," Virgil was wide-eyed.

"What?"

"I thought Renee was your girlfriend. That would have been awkward," Virgil flushed with embarrassment and Roman broke out laughing.

"Wow, that's a first! I've never been told my sib looked like my S.O.! You're funny Virge!" Roman hit Virgil on the back in a friendly pat that sent the smaller boy stumbling forward.

They quickly moved the few boxes Virgil had brought into the room and both boys started unpacking. The room was tensely quiet until Reagan came barreling back into the room with their roommate in tow.

"Oh my God! You guys!! Janus is the sweetest bitch," their eyes were sparkling with excitement.

"All I did was offer to help with classwork," Janus mumbled. Sie looked at Roman and Virgil and could feel the awkwardness in the room that Reagan was oblivious to, "so, anyone know a good ice breaker?"

Roman and Virgil replied at the same time, "polar bears."

Janus snorted, trying to contain sier amusement, "not quite what I meant, but A for effort."

"Ooh, have either of you two met your soulmates?" Reagan grinned at Virgil and Janus.

"My birthday is in a couple of months, so I have no idea," Virgil shrugged, taping up an MCR poster.

Janus rolled sier eyes, "no, I'm not really trying to find them either. Their first impression of me is disappointment anyway and you know how impossible it is to correct a bad first impression."

Roman laughed, "I feel like I'm looking for the impossible! My soulmate’s first impression is that I'm straight . How?" he held up the pride flag that he was preparing to hang above his bed.

"I could imagine it if the first time they saw you, you were… I don't know, hugging your sister," Virgil coughed suspiciously.

"Well, I will quickly correct them. Shoot, I forgot to ask. Virgil are you okay with queer stuff all over my side of the room? Because if not we have a problem," Roman smiled nervously and Reagan snickered at him. He supposed he should have figured this out before outing Reagan to Virgil but better late than never.

"You're good, Princey. I might not be flamboyant but I'm definitely gay," Virgil smiled softly.

"How lucky you're rooming together," Janus smirked, "should we dismantle one of the beds now?"

Reagan howled with laughter as Roman and Virgil both vehemently denied that suggestion, faces redder than strawberries.

"Give it a month, Jan," they snickered, wiping a tear from their eye.

"Indeed, bet?"

"20 bucks says you're on."

"We're right here!" Virgil protested.

"Shut up, you know I love you guys," Janus replied smoothly.

"No. No, I don't know that," Virgil flipped up his hood to hide his face from the others and pulled out his DVD collection to sort it. Roman glanced over and gave a triumphant shout.

"I knew it! Corpse Bride, Alice in Wonderland, Nightmare Before Christmas, Beetlejuice? I knew you'd be into Tim Burton!" Roman grinned happily, "fantastic movies!"

"How? We've known each other for like an hour…" Virgil was confused.

"Ah, I think it was the hoodie. You just look like one of his characters, you know?" Roman's grin turned sheepish.

"Fair enough. That is my aesthetic," Virgil shrugged.

"So should we leave you two future love birds alone now or…?" Reagan chuckled. They could tell Roman liked his roommate a lot, even if he wasn't outwardly flirting.

"Excellent idea, Reagan. We can cause more mischief elsewhere," Janus turned to leave with Reagan following close behind sier.

The first semester of classes went chaotically fast. True to Reagan's prediction, Roman and Virgil started dating within weeks. Despite outward dissimilarities, the two made for a good couple, balancing each other's sweetness and snark and flair and dramatics.

Roman couldn’t help but feel nervous as the clock ticked closer to midnight. Winter vacation had been hard enough with Virgil on the other side of the country, but tomorrow was his birthday and Roman was anxious to figure out if the connection he felt with his boyfriend was as deep and as fated as he wanted it to be.

They were facetiming when the alarm Roman had set for midnight went off.

"Happy birthday, my chemically imbalanced romance!" Roman grinned as Virgil shook his head at the nickname, "where's the mark?"

Virgil chuckled, "can't I enjoy being legally adult for two minutes?"

"Virgillllll please?" Roman pleaded, puffing out his lip.

"Fine. I think it's on the back of my neck though. Hang on," Virgil turned off the camera to take a photo while Roman waited impatiently.

Roman couldn’t see his face but he could hear Virgil’s soft gasp, "what is it, love?"

"Did you really think that about me, Roman?" Virgil sounded upset and Roman wished he would turn the camera back on.

"I don't know, V, what does it say? Please turn the camera back on," Roman prodded gently.

The camera flicked back on and Roman could see the back of Virgil’s neck with a single line of shiny scarlet text, "Tim Burton Reject but like Cute."

"Your first thought of me was that I was a reject??" Virgil brought the camera back to his face and Roman could just make out the line of a tear cutting through his makeup.

"Virgil, it's not like that-"

"Well, it sure looks like it! Either that was your first impression of me or we aren't soulmates! I have to live with this on my skin for the rest of my life I deserve to know!"

Roman glared at Virgil, "quite hypocritical considering I have to live with the fact you thought I was dating my own sibling written across my ass!" Roman took a deep breath before continuing, "yes, my first thought of you wasn't the kindest phrasing. First impressions are so often very wrong. People aren't static pictures, they're living art. Just look at Remus; he's constantly changing. And I've seen you change in so many ways the past four months, Virgil. I would never call you a reject now. I'm sorry I did back then."

Roman watched Virgil’s face as he finished his apology. To his surprise, Virgil started to laugh, low and quiet at first but quickly growing.

"You were right though. I was so skinny, so dark, and so edgy- I think just about anyone would have agreed with you. I think you got the short end of the soulmate stick, Ro, because now you're stuck with me, the Tim Burton Reject," Virgil's smile was wide and genuine and Roman clasped his hand to his chest in relief.

"Oh my goodness, you scared me. I thought I was going to be single! Who knew your birthday was the actual nightmare before Christmas," both of them laughed at that, "goodnight love. Text me when you open your present."

Roman smiled as Virgil saluted and ended the call.

Thank the stars they actually were soulmates.

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020

#tsshipmonth2020 #Soulmate September 2020 #prinxiety #sibling creativitwins #lowkey platonic demus #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #genderfluid remus #nonbinary janus #first impressions #cussing #college au #soulmate au

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currently-questioning · 3 years

Text

Coming Out to the Bakusquad (or rather, letting them get to know me better): a story about normalising confusion and being open about it.

Bakugou Katsuki

he'd most likely be reading a comic (romance manga) or something in his room when I come to bother him

I'd literally slam the door behind me when he lets me in

Bakugou: "TF do you want dumbass?"

Me: "I think I'm genderfluid and I really need to talk to someone about it and like, it's fine if you don't accept me....well actually it isn't, Imma have to break off friendships, but I was really hoping I could just rant for a couple minutes and I know this is a weird way to come out--"

He just drags me to his bed, tells me to get comfy, and waits for me to continue

Which is just....

I love soft Bakugo

I'd probably end up crying at some point and fear making things awkward.

It does get awkward

Bakugo ain't no bitch tho. He ran to get me tissues and offered his hoodie.

I pushed for cuddles. He stopped at a hug.

Bakugou: "Listen, you don't owe anyone anything. Figure out this pronouns shit that you're struggling with, try out different names if you want to. But for the love of God, don't rush yourself."

Bakugou and I had a more solid understanding of each other that day

(he also gave me tips on binder measurements, should I want to get one)

Kaminari Denki

I imagine that Kaminari and I have a relaxed and open friendship, that we'd tell each other anything on any given day.

We operate on the same wavelength, basically.

We were talking about attractive people in the fandoms we're in together and he just---

Kaminari: "it's so hard being attracted to so many people sometimes"

Me: "IKR, everyone's so hot, it's so unfair!"

Then the topic of sexuality came up

Denki being the open and honest dumbass he is just blurts out "I'm definitely not straight. Have you seen the guys in our class?"

And I'm like "but the girls tho. They're so pretty!" And we just simp for ages.

Eventually, I say "at this point, I know I'm not straight, and I'm probably not fucking cis either. 2020 fucked up everything and sprinkled some rainbows on top."

Kaminari freezes.

So do I.

Me: "like it's not necessary a solid thing, I've just been questioning so much lately and--"

Kaminari: "saaaaame."

We just stare at each other in slight shock

And then talk about being genderfluid and messing around with names and pronouns and expression together.

So basically, two sides of the same coin.

I love him.

Sero Hanta

Early morning cooking w/ best boi

He has a new vegan dish he wants me to try out since I love cooking (you need to get better at it tho)

I pop the question "hey, what do you think about nonbinary people?"

Sero just shrugs cause he "doesn't really care" but in reality he's fucking panicking, like holy shit, do they know something?

but then I say "what if I said I was nonbinary?"

He just pauses.

Me: "well, specifically genderfluid I think, but we can get into the mechanics of that later."

Sero: "holy shit, I thought I was the only one."

I start screaming internally. Are all my friends somewhat queer?

We just start exchanging life experiences in a chill manner.

Because everything is chill with Sero.

I love him (X2)

Kirishima Eijirou

After training one day, M*neta makes a comment on my chest and I just shrivel up and die a little.

(chest dysphoria with giant honkers is fucking terrible)

I storm out, arms over chest, and just go into a slight state of panic.

Kirishima punches the grape and chases after me.

We just speed walk in silence back to the dorms while he pesters me to talk to him.

Which I don't, because hey, I'm stubborn.

Kirishima: "if you won't tell me what's wrong, I'll just go ask Kaminari."

Me, slightly offended: "So you'd rather get a half baked story from someone else?"

Kirishima: "NO! WHICH IS WHY I'M ASKING YOU!"

We stop. I huff and just blurts out that I think I'm genderfluid.

Me: "everyone in the squad but Mina knows so far. And Mineta triggered a bit of dysphoria and I wasn't expecting it to hit that hard. And I didn't want to tell you so soon because I wasn't sure you'd accept me. And I didn't wanna lose you because it's scary being confused and not everyone wants to deal with that bullshit and--"

Immediate bear hug. Not even giving me a chance to finish the last sentence.

Kirishima: "I'd be damned if I let a good friendship go to waste because of something like that."

I start crying.

He wipes my tears.

Kirishima: we can talk about it further in the dorms if you want?"

Me: "Okay."

Mina Ashido

Mina approaches you in a chill manner, not at all about to drop a bomb on you.

Mina: "why is everyone ignoring me lately? It seems like you guys have your own in thing and I'm not apart of it."

Me: "It's nothing, I promise"

Mina: "an obvious lie."

We go back and forth about how she feels left out and how none of us are doing that on purpose. Hurtful words are said, especially about me being the new addition.

Then she mentions how we're the only girls in the squad so we should stick together, which makes me snap.

Me: "Mina, I'm fucking genderfluid, alright? The bracelets Kirishima got me? Gender markers. Sero and Kaminari hanging out more with me? Because they're willing to cope with the confusion that comes with all of this. Bakugo acting weird and actually calling me by name for once? I begged him to use the new name because it means something special and I wanted to try it out without anyone else being weird about it!"

Silence.

And then a hug.

And then tears.

Like a lot of tears.

Mina apologizes for kind of forcing me to come out.

I say sorry for not saying anything sooner and leaving her out of the loop.

Love and forgiveness and acceptance all around.

However, it takes a whole for her to adjust to not using gender specific compliments on certain days, or to even see me as Not A Girl™.

But we learn and we grow.

(This is literally just me trying to write out some of my frustrations about being confused and wanting acceptance - BUT this was before I told some of my friends about what's going on, so.....yeah.... Sorry if it doesn't make sense, or if it just jumped around too often. I wrote this in a flurry.)

#bnha headcanons #bakusquad #kaminari #bakugo #kirishima #sero #mina #Genderfluid #nonbinary #coming out

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firelord-frowny · 3 years

Text

obviously i Get why there’s such firm rebuttal against the whole ~there’s only two sexes, blah blah, transgender is fake and genderfluid is fake blah blah~ bullshit. i Get why it’s important to shut down any argument that suggests that a gender binary is a ~scientific fact~.

but alsooooooooooooo....

so what if it was???

even if there really WERE only two strict sexes....

literally WHY should that have anything to do with how someone feels in their own body and in their own mind? WHY should that have anything to do with what kinds of physical changes they’re allowed to make to their body if they want to? WHY should that have anything to do with which terms should be used to refer to any given person? WHY should it have any bearing on what rights someone has? Where they can pee? Which body parts they’re allowed to display without being guilty of public indecency?? What kinds of clothes they should wear? What their name should be?

Even if we were to agree that there are only two sexes... that still doesn’t make it okay to try to control people lmfao it just DOESN’T!

And i kinda wish that instead of exclusively focusing on disproving the lies/disinformation that people use to justify their bigotry, there was a little more effort put into saying “but even if you were right, you’re still wrong.”

I don’t caaaaaaaaaaaaare what ~science~ does or doesn’t say about my body or my mind. what i care about is my right to present myself the way i want to present myself, and my right to be treated with respect. Whatever ~science~ has to say about me will only ever be important between me and my own doctors. Beyond that, my organs and my hormones and what they may or may not indicate have shit all to do with ANYONE else on the face of the earth.

i guess the thing that rubs me the wrong way about rebutting that shit with the fact that biological sex is in fact NOT a binary, is that it feels like it’s an effort to ~justify~ my life experience to other people. And like... i don’t have to prove a damn thing to anyone, and neither does anyone else, and i’d be much happier to just tell someone to eat shit than sit there and go ~ahem, well ACTUALLY, here’s a scientific study that demonstrates my right to exist.~

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ofpipers · 3 years

Text

* kang hyunggu, genderfluid + he/they | you know jaehyun “kaz” choi, right? they’re twenty-one, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, twenty-one years? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to love my way by the psychedelic furs like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole dancing in your socks and slipping, accidentally laughing during a serious moment, chipped nail polish thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is april 17th, so they’re an aries, which is unsurprising, all things considered.

hellooooooo ! i’m bea ( they/them ) and this is <3333333 my dumbass, kaz !

i’ve given up on doing traditional bios, so please bear with me.

( hi, i switch between he and they ! )

was born in irving to two eccentric parents, one a college professor and the other a stay at home dad. is an only child and absolutely lived it up growing up. his parents absolutely ADORED him and doted on him and to this day he has a very close relationship with them and his family.

kind of a troublemaker growing up ! not like, anything horrible. they were ( and still are ) just very talkative and friendly. definitely one of those kids that teachers hated because you couldn’t separate them from their friends, bc EVERYONE was their friend. and on top of that, they always got good grades, so it was... annoying because they didn’t understand why they couldn’t talk and joke during class since they always passed.

hs was harder .... #giftedchildburnout. he realized that... damn. this is kinda hard. went from being a straight a student to needing tutoring and then getting frustrated that they needed a tutor to spiraling even more -- it was annoying.

took his frustrations out with partying and actually got heavily into drugs and alcohol, which only worsened his grades when he showed up to school drunk / high all the time.

eventually, he stopped showing up entirely and dropped out.

his parents refused to give up on him, but it was only when he was caught stealing his mom’s jewelry for money that they sat him down and told him he had a problem

they sent him to rehab and he’s been clean ever since ( it’s been about a year ! )

wants to get his ged but is too scared :/

works at the roller rink :sunglassesemoji:

CONNECTIONS !

roommates ( 0/3 ) : he had to move out sometime, right? unfortunately his current job doesn’t pay enough for him to live on his own. very chaotic. think new girl.

childhood best friend : he cut them off when he dropped out because he was ashamed and embarrassed of what he’d turned into, but they were the first person he called once he got into rehab and they’ve made amends. his rock.

hs tutor : this could be fun ! we could do all types of things with them. he and this muse had a huge blowout which actually led to him completely dropping out. feelings could’ve been involved ? maybe your muse felt like they were failing him and was frustrated bc he didn’t care ? could be so angsty hehe

honestly anything. friends, exes, good/bad influences whatever you need <3

#alcohol tw #drugs tw #addiction tw #!#irvingintro

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gaydiekane · 4 years

Text

THIS IS MY FIRST TIME DOING A CUT SO IF IT DOESNT WORK IM SO SORRY IM CLOGGING UR FEED ANYWAYS-

before we start~~

greyson- ahhh yeah they/them pronouns but originally greyson used he/him so if you see any stray he/hims that i forgot to change please lmk (comment with the sentence or smth it'd be greatly appreciated)

link to chapter 1

i do not own any of the characters or settings from the riordanverse, all rights go to richard russell riordan. i also don't own perry the platypus, that goes to dan povenmire

finally, this is only my current draft, so when this whole thing is done and completed this chapter could be entirely different. i'm also a cHiLd so my writing isn't that good please bear w me 💀 i also suck at titles if u have any other ideas lmk 💀💀

anywaysssss..

The Currently Unnamed Fic

Chapter 2 - i think this is now named An Intro to New Life but im not 100% sure?

The boy led me down the hill and to the Kansas house. There was a man and a few other people playing a card game. I mean, I thought they were people, but they looked like goat boys. Something was nagging at me in the back of my mind, like something about this was familiar, but I couldn't figure it out.

"Mr. D," the kid said, "we have a new camper. And- hold up," he turned to me, "what are your pronouns?"

"She/her."

He turned back to Mr. D. "She's fifteen!"

Mr. D placed his cards face down on the table. "Fifteen? Whoever your parent is is awfully stupid."

Some useful information, I suppose. And, parent? My mom said she was bad at math in school, and my dad. . .

"My mom mentioned something about my dad when she dropped me off here," I said.

"Well, you're not one of mine," Mr. D said, and averted his attention back to the game. "Owen-"

"Oliver."

"-would you mind showing her around?"

"Oh, I would love to, but," the kid, Oliver, flashed the book he was reading, "I've got some reading to do. And I'm also redirecting mortals, so. . . . Catch ya later," he said walking away.

"He could've just said he didn't want to," Mr. D said under his breath (but still loud enough for everyone to hear). "Uh, Garrett Smith! Can you show around the new kid?" he asked to the nearest kid in the strawberry field.

The kid looked around my age, maybe a bit older. They had curly strawberry blond hair and tan skin like they spent almost all of their time outside. "Sure thing, just let me put this-"

"Nonsense, Sandra over there will take care of whatever it is." Mr. D interrupted. "I've got a card game to finish, so if you would please, George Salazar, show around, er, what's your name?" He turned to me.

"Elizabeth Herman," I answered. "I go by Ellie, though."

"Yes, show Lizzy Henderson around."

"On it Mr. D," the kid said. I didn't trust that their name was Garrett Smith or George Salazar.

I left the table and met the kid at the bottom of the stairs. They greeted me with a bright smile. "Hey, I'm Greyson Summit," they said. "I wish I were George Salazar. Oh, to be on Broadway, instead picking strawberries for the god of wine," they said dreamily.

I returned a smile. "I'm Ellie. Nice to meet you."

"Oh, and don't worry," Greyson added, "you don't have to bow down to Mr. D. He doesn't do much."

I nodded my head. Like Perry the Platypus, I thought. "Why would I need to bow down to him?" I asked.

"Oh, right, I should explain," Greyson said. "That's Dionysus, the god of wine and all that. You said your mom said something about your dad, right? I'm assuming she meant he's a god too."

I felt like I had been hit by a brick. I probably was at some point if I didn't remember basic stuff from sixth grade English, but that's not the point.

"Wait, I think I've read about this place," I said.

Greyson got a confused look on their face. "Like, in The Lightning Thief?" I nodded my head. "Woah." They laughed. "Not to be dramatic, but you should probably be dead. Let's head to the east."

Greyson began walking off towards what I assumed was the east, leaving me the opposite of "no thoughts, head empty."

I ran to catch up with them.

"By the time we're done it should be time for lunch, then I'll show you the other side after," they were saying.

"Sounds like a plan," I said.

We made our way along the creek towards the east woods. Greyson wasn't the best tour guide. We would pass by something and they'd randomly point out what it was. At least it wasn't a safari. I nearly giggled at the thought.

"Volleyball court. Art's and crafts. Hermes kids doing. . . something. Oh no, there's fire again."

I watched as a couple kids tried to stomp out a small flame in the grass.

"Again?" I asked.

"Yeah," said Greyson. "Come on."

They tried to strike up small talk. Unfortunately, both of us were quite bad at making conversation. Maybe it was best we weren't as good at striking things up as those Hermes kids.

I tried thinking of some icebreakers and introduction questions while we walked around.

"What are your pronouns?" I asked.

"They/them," Greyson said. "I'm genderfluid, but it's easier to use they/them pronouns than correcting people all the time. But if it really bothers me sometime I'll correct you, just a heads up."

"Cool. Thanks for letting me know."

More silence.

"Your pronouns are she/her, right?" they asked.

I nodded.

"So. . . where are you from?" Greyson asked after a bit more silence.

"Arizona," I answered.

"Oh, cool," they responded.

More silence.

"Where are you from?" I asked.

"Kansas."

Out of all the new and crazy info I'd gotten that day, that one won first place by far. "But I thought Kansas didn't exist?"

"What?"

I shrugged.

We made it to the rock wall. The heat emitting from it reminded me of Arizona summers. A girl dropped down nearby where we were standing.

"Beat ya!" she shouted up. She looked over at us. "Oh, hey Greyson. Who's this?"

The girl was short. Well, maybe short to me, I'm 5'8". She was maybe 5'4"? (Is that short?) She had dark brown skin and vitiligo. She also had brown eyes and dark brown coily hair.

"This is Ellie," Greyson said. "Do you think Kansas exists?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Do you think Kansas exists?" Greyson repeated.

"Yes, of course," the girl answered.

"Even before you met me?" they asked.

She paused, before answering, "Well, I hadn't given it much thought before."

"Damn, alright," Greyson said. "Ellie, this is Leila."

"Nice to meet you," I said.

Another girl dropped down from the wall. She had black hair with a split dye that was hot pink. Her hair was steaming, and her tan skin looked blistered in a couple spots. "You cheated!" She pointed at Leila accusingly.

"How do you cheat at a rock wall?" I asked.

"How can you think Kansas doesn't exist?!" Greyson asked me.

"Hold up, you didn't think Kansas existed?" the new girl asked me. "Wait, who are you?"

"I'm Ellie," I answered.

"Cool, I'm Chleo," she said. "Anyways, you thought Kansas didn't exist?"

"I thought it was made up for the plot of the Wizard of Oz!" I said. They all just looked at me. "How many people have you met that are from Kansas? What has ever happened in Kansas? What exists there?" I asked.

"Well, I know Greyson. . . ." Chleo said.

"The National World War I Museum is in Kansas City!" Greyson claimed. We all just stared at them. They put their hands up defensively.

"So. . . how do you cheat at rock wall climbing?" I asked again, hoping to drop the subject of Kansas.

"Oh I'm a daughter of Hecate," Leila said. She snapped her fingers and her and Chleo had switched places as Chleo went to rest her arm on Leila's shoulder. "The mist is easy to manipulate for me." She shrugged, ignoring Chleo on the ground.

"You bitch!" Chleo exclaimed from the floor. "Which also means, she cheated," Chleo said, getting up.

"No, I just used my resources!" said Leila. "They tell us to do that."

A horn sounded in the distance. "Come on Ellie, we have to line up for lunch," Greyson said. "We can go with the Hermes cabin, since they're here." He glanced above my head before walking towards a forming line of kids with mischievous looks on their faces, like I was told I had.

"Who's your godly parent?" I asked Greyson.

"My dad's Apollo," they said quietly. "We're not really supposed to talk in lines but lots of people do anyways."

We walked in silence to the dining pavilion. We went over the creek, passed by a huge arena, an archery range, the cabins. I knew there wouldn't be much left for Greyson to show me after lunch, but I knew continuing to let them show me around was better than to be friendless.

I was handed a plate of food and sat on the end of table eleven next to a kid with curly light brown hair and hazel eyes. He looked older than me.

"Oh, hey newbie!" he said. "I'm Austin."

"I'm Ellie," I said. "Nice to meet you Austin."

"Nice to meet you too Ellie," he said. "I'm the head of cabin eleven and one of the camp counselors this year. It doesn't matter too much, but I suppose it's good to know. Come on newbie, it's our turn at the fire." We all got up and walked over to the big bronze brazier in the middle of the pavilion.

I watched as Austin pushed a portion of his plate into the fire. "Hermes," he said.

I pushed a portion of brisket into the flames. "Hermes?" I said, though it came out as more of a question. Austin laughed and shook his head, and we went back to table eleven.

Back at the table I talked a bit more with Austin. He told me he has a twin sister, Kaite, and how he's from Michigan and moved to New Jersey a few years ago. He's turning nineteen this October and is really into crafting because he grew up doing it with his mother as a kid.

"What did you mean it didn't matter that you're head of cabin eleven?" I asked.

"Not that part, the part about being camp counselor," he said. "Camp counselors and cabin counselors are different. We call cabin counselors cabin heads to avoid confusion, but you'll hear both. Cabin heads just make sure none of their siblings are being absolutely stupid and lead them to their activities. Prep for inspection, all that. Camp counselors are more of like, the older sibling to everyone, they're all cabin heads, they do inspection, stuff like that. Kinda take charge. They're the people you go to if you need something. Some cabins have more than one counselor, by the way."

"What about Chiron?" I asked.

"Well, you'd go to him for super important stuff, like emergencies. A serious injury, an attack. Mr. D, well, just, never go D with an emergency. He'll most likely do nothing. Actually, he's good to go to if you have any questions regarding sexuality or gender identity." He paused for a moment, before continuing, "Camp leadership! Right!

"So once Percy and Annabeth -- you know who they are? -- Coolio, once they left everyone realized they forgot how to run the camp because they did everything and wars and all that jazz. Instead of trying to remember, they made new over-complicated systems to run the place. They work though. Until the older heroes came back. A couple summers ago the older campers came back to teach here." He pointed to the director's table. Along with Mr. D, I saw a few other adults chatting and eating. "Ever since they came back, us camp counselors have been kinda demoted. No one comes to us much anymore. Granted, they do know more, but it kinda sucks being demoted. Some of the cabin heads get replaced by the adults too, if they have an adult sibling here. But since they teach they're not around much for their cabin. It doesn't make too much sense." He shook his head.

"Maybe it's just that awkward telling a twenty year old what to do," I suggested. "Who are all the camp councelors?"

"There's me, Emma from the Aphrodite cabin, Ricky from the Apollo cabin, and Asia from the Iris cabin," Austin answered.

"You see? I just came to you for a question, you're not useless!" My words of encouragement didn't seem to make him all too much better. Though, I was never too good at encouraging others.

"I guess," he said. "That reminds me, after lunch is over I need to get you a copy of the Camp Half-Blood Confidential. And a shirt."

"The what now?"

"Years ago, after the last war, they were talking about what they would change about camp and all that, and Nico said the orientation video, which only he had seen. Everyone ended up watching it and they decided, 'Woah, this is terrible!' So they wrote a book."

They did what now? "That's stupid," I said. Who would write an important informational book for kids with dyslexia to read?

Austin looked at me questioningly. "What do-" He was cut off by a loud voice from elsewhere in the pavilion.

"Alright everyone," Mr. D stood up for announcements, "we have a new camper. Everyone say hi to Lizzy Henderson." There was a bit of hesitant applause before someone else from the director's table stood up.

"Maybe we should let her introduce herself," she said, giving a quick glare to Mr. D. He muttered something about how he did a fine job before the woman continued. Her gray eyes scanned the tables for the new face. "If you want to stand up so we can all see you..."

The blonde lady began to reminded me of a middle school English teacher. And I don't know how she didn't notice me, I was the only one not in bright orange. I should've stuck out like a sore thumb.

I stood and her eyes fell on me. Her smile wavered and she said something I couldn't make out to the man next to her, whose back was still facing me. She looked up again and continued, her smile returned. "How about you tell us your name, your age, and where you're from?" she asked.

Most eyes were on me, which bugged me because now I didn't know where to look. I decided to try keeping my eyes on the woman. "I'm Ellie Herman, I'm from Arizona, and I'm fifteen," I said.

I heard a few people start whispering around me. The lady furrowed her brows and looked back down at the man next to her, who then turned around to look at me. I noticed the man's black hair and sea green eyes, along with a nasty scar under his right eye, the same way I had imagined Luke's while reading the books. Then it hit me. The woman talking to me was Annabeth Chase, like, the Annabeth Chase.

"Do you know who your godly parent is yet?" Annabeth asked, sounding almost hopeful.

I shook my head. "No."

After a moment her smile returned. "Well, we're glad to have you here, Ellie." Annabeth turned to the rest of the campers. "Everyone welcome Ellie Herman, undetermined."

#s.chap.2

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theimpossiblescheme · 3 years

Text

Things about the Martin Crimp Cyrano de Bergerac I have various emotions about in no particular order:

Christian being Leila Ragueneau’s pupil—bless the boy’s heart, he’s trying so hard to slot as effortlessly into Paris and its intellectual scene as possible, even if he’s still confused about most of it. (Also the implication that he comes from a rather conservative family since he didn’t understand what “genderfluid” meant at first, but cottoned on and even looked kind of impressed pretty quickly… you’re doing amazing, sweetie.)

Ragueneau noting that Cyrano hasn’t gotten any sleep last night like this is something he does regularly. How often do you think he’s come into the shop and just crashed?

Cyrano actually looking he might start crying after his meeting with Roxanne, but stifling it so quickly when the cadets arrive it’s like that emotion was never there. I just… I believe him when he says (in other translations) that he believes he’s too disgusting and ridiculous for something so noble as tears, but there’s a bigger part of him than he wants to admit that doesn’t want to cry simply because it’s Not Something Men Do. Especially not military men. There’s such a focus on gender dynamics in this production and how self-worth issues affect everyone that I one hundred percent believe that was deliberate.

Ragueneau going up to Cyrano and so gently asking him if something happened with Roxanne—not even trying to guess what really happened, just wanting to know if something went wrong… and Cyrano taking her hand without a word and giving her a little “thank you for actually understanding” look.

This Christian is such a spitfire and so genuinely witty, I love him so much. In the middle of his nose insults toward Cyrano, he does a little “come at me, see what happens” gesture, and I lost my mind. This guy has possibly even less chill than Cyrano, and that is saying a lot.

I love this Roxanne, too—she’s so warm and funny and genuinely feels like she could be your best friend in the world. So many Roxanne actresses come off as too… distant and almost intimidating, but this one is so much closer to earth.

Cyrano holding on for a little too long the first time he and Christian hug, even after they’ve pulled apart and he’s still clutching his arm… fellas…

”Imaginary men and women”… just gonna let that line sit there…

Cyrano and Christian sharing a mic within minutes of meeting each other

Cyrano introducing Christian to the cadets again as his best friend and trying to put an end to any future hazing… only for the cadets to turn on him and immediately start insulting him one after the other. And instead of slapping the one who started it and establishing that he’s still not going to take their shit—the way he usually does in other translations—Cyrano just clams up and disappears. They were all praising him and gathering around him in support about ten minutes ago, and now they’ve lined up to publicly shit on him… some friends.

Wow, they made absolutely no bones about de Guiche just wanting Roxanne for sex and nothing else. You can feel the disgust roiling off of her that entire scene.

Christian accidentally mimicking Cyrano’s accent the first time he feeds him a line in the “balcony” scene

The juxtaposition of Roxanne as a vocal feminist and “wouldn’t love be very dreary if it fell victim to the gaze of theory”—she loves the idea of love and how ideologically pure and new she wants it to be while Christian and Cyrano know things aren’t as cut and dry as they are in her textbooks. God, this translation is clever.

Christian is the one to pull Cyrano out to talk to Roxanne directly this time, and you can see the abject fear on his face when he realizes where he is…

The way Cyrano starts out imitating Christian’s accent, but then slowly phases into his own voice

The freaking Steve Martin reference, holy shit

I don’t know what to make of the more… intimate references in Cyrano’s balcony speech in this production since I can’t imagine he would feel comfortable with that, even if he’s not saying it to her face. Especially since he can’t seem to imagine intimacy without violence—“You bite my lip, you draw blood.” It’s like he’s trying to insert himself into what he thinks a “normal” romantic/sexual fantasy, and it immediately goes south once he imagines himself there instead of some other man. Even in a letter she’ll never see, that he’s tearing up so no one else will ever know what it says, those “normal” fantasies don’t come naturally to him, as hard as he tries.

The self-awareness that Cyrano knows he’s putting Roxanne on a pedestal, idealizing her—“making her an object”—and that’s why he tears up all the letters. Because he knows how they would sound to her, even if he doesn’t intend to hurt her. He knows her, and that’s why he could never tell her—he’d be just another man to her who only wants one thing, and he can’t bear for her to see him that way.

Cyrano idealizing the moon as this perfect place without sickness or hatred or societal convention holding anyone back, where he’s not looked down upon for his appearance… it’s a lot that I was not expecting from this scene.

Christian was about ready to murder de Guiche on the spot for calling Roxanne a bitch and a whore, and I refuse to believe Cyrano wasn’t sitting there absolutely seething right along with him. Get his ass, lads.

The only other promise Cyrano makes Roxanne is that Christian will be back all right… yeah, thanks for that, I needed the extra pain.

Cyrano specifically bringing up Achilles and Patroclus when he’s talking about the Iliad… they knew what they were doing. Especially right before he insists that Le Bret give his water ration to Christian.

The cadets trying to pick Cyrano up with their old battle cry, but Cyrano pointedly turning away from them, remembering what happened the last time. Except this time they’re sincere, not planning to turn on him, and he lets himself smile a little bit.

De Guiche nearly passing out from dehydration in front of the cadets. As scummy as he’s been throughout the play so far, this is the part where he usually starts to turn over a new leaf, and I’m starting to believe it at this point.

We really just flat-out had Cyrano confess to Christian that he loves him, too. This production really did say OT3 rights, and I’m here for it.

This is one of the only productions I’ve seen that really plays up the gravity of the situation when Roxanne and Ragueneau appear at Arras. For them it was just an adventure to see their loved ones, but they’re in the middle of highly dangerous territory, and the cadets thought they were enemy combatants. It’s not a game they’re playing.

Roxanne was really gonna tear de Guiche limb from limb before Cyrano caught her, damn…

”Because I could not stop for death”… I love this poem, holy shit, and hearing a re-working of it here, too…

De Guiche’s turnaround is genuinely affecting in this production, especially since he starts out by apologizing to Roxanne.

That first little tiny kiss before Christian goes in for a second one, and the way Cyrano just… bluescreens afterward… and the way he shakes his head like, “Please, this is too much at once, I can’t process this, I can’t believe that you actually feel this way…”

The heavy implication by the way all the cadets, including Christian, take their lavalier mics off that they didn’t survive the battle. Not even Le Bret survived—only Cyrano and de Guiche made it out alive among them. Cyrano’s not only lost one of the loves of his life, but also his best friend.

Roxanne sitting in front of Cyrano’s mirror in the last scene… I could probably write a whole essay about that setpiece.

Cyrano spending the first few years after Arras homeless

Cyrano’s dying this time because he got a knife in the back during a fight to defend Roxanne’s honor… holy shit…

Christian sitting on the stage during Cyrano and Roxanne’s last conversation—his specter looming over their relationship, knowing that Cyrano is still hiding things from her (that little whisper of “yes” when Cyrano asks if he would ever lie to her)

They actually referenced the real-life book that the historical Cyrano wrote!

I don’t know if I believe Roxanne when she says she’d had “plenty of other men since” Christian. Especially coming off the heels of Cyrano bold-faced lying about having been with another woman to “explain” his appearance. And I don’t know which makes it more heartbreaking.

Roxanne’s whole emotional journey after Cyrano tells her about the letters—“Have I loved two men or no man at all?”

“The hero always has… the final…”

#cyrano de bergerac #martin crimp #the schemer speaks #I feel like every time I find a new production it's like 'Achievement Unlocked: New Aspects Of The Show To Cry Over'...#The honor of my favorite productions will always go to the 1950 movie and the 2007 Broadway revival #but this was a freaking *roller coaster* and I'm so so glad I finally saw all of it.#What a fabulous cast too--I'd pay good money to see all of them in one of the classical translations of the play.

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