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#i can only think of the terror in meme form now
merakiui · 2 months
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Hihi Mera- first time saying/asking anything to you. Your works are *chefs kiss* and they fuel my delulu about the octotrio.
But Mera, Mera, phantOM!AZUL!?!?!?!? OOOOOOOOMG MERA I CANT GET HIM OUT OF MY HEAD NOW!!! AHDBSKSUSJAKAKSBD JUST- IM ABOUT TO GO FERAL!!! BUT WHO WOULD BE RAOUL!?!?!?!?
(You can call me barista anon)
HI HIIII, BARISTA ANON!!!! ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
Phantom Azul makes me so ill... 😵‍💫 he's just so fine. HIS VOICE!!!!!! Tako has such a pretty singing voice. T^T like the melody of a siren. I would let him lead me to my death uuuwaaaaa. I want to say Riddle is Raoul because childhood friends trope with Riddle is so delicious and also to keep the Azul and Riddle rivalry alive and well here on merakiui blog. But maybe childhood friend Vil......... 👀 there is potential.
I think Azul in gothic horror/romance concepts in general is so wonderful. I saw this meme recently and thought it would be so perfect for a Victorian gothic au in which you're recently widowed and mourning; you take a trip to the seaside in hopes of curing your melancholia, only to find comfort in the embrace of the coastal town's local terrors (sea monsters)!!!!!!! orz orz orz there's something about Octavinelle railing you in a nice dress that's just so *chef's kiss* to me (if I had a Madol for every time I wrote Azul fucking you in a wedding gown in his mer form, I'd have two Madols. Which isn't a lot, but it's strange it happened twice. LOL). I know what I'm about. 🫣
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Follow-up to the stupid meme I banged out in like 3 minutes and now has 250 notes.
While the general response has been positive, I have seen a sentiment that I didn't intend to communicate. Make no mistake, Sinclair is a woobie softboy (affectionate). He enters his Canto literally crying, screaming, throwing up. He is still the youngest sinner who looks up to his peers as role models. He is still the one most likely to scream or feel unease in the face of terror. He is still the guy who gets snacks from the team mom and gets excited. None of that means he's undeserving of respect as an adult person, but he is the sensitive one as far as team dynamic goes. He has grown as a person since his Canto (absolutely in love with the scene where the sinners are trying to be sensitive to his Christmas-oriented traumas and he's now at a point where he can say he's okay), but that is who he is.
However
Sinclair is also a machine that turns people into corpses. Deep within him are violent and destructive tendencies that manifest in shed blood and broken bodies. And that's kinda his whole thing, struggling between a World of Light and a World of Darkness, duality as represented in his character art. He will unconsciously aim for the throat and then fall over himself apologizing about it. He contains multitudes, and that's what makes him interesting.
Of course that leaves the question of Demian and what he actually wants for Sinclair. I think the book Demian wants stability for him, the balance of and midpoint between dark and light, a self actualization that leaves Sinclair equipped to navigate the world in all its forms. I don't know if the same is true of Limbus Demian, I cannot say for sure if what he wants is actually good for Sinclair or good only from a certain point of view (think of how Carmen views good and evil at this point). I got an ask theorizing that he might want Sinclair to distort but I feel like the motives of the various groups interested in the boughs are far more complicated and sinister, dealing with the infinite multiverse in some way and having apocalyptic consequences. Limbus has shown its willing to reexamine aspects of its source texts, who know where they might go with it.
While Demian might want Sinclair to become a zaddy giving him backshots to display dominance, I just don't think Sinclair is that kind of lover, its too deep into the World of Darkness. He contains multitudes, and would temper his furious carnal desires with tenderness and care as a giving top. I can't imagine this satisfying Demian as he's been presented, and the metamorphosis he'd want for SInclair is ultimately untrue to his nature. However, if Sinclair was fucking Yi Sang, that allows both to explore switching and *muffled screams*
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ms--lobotomy · 4 months
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Hello🌹 I am glad to see the addition of writers to the Warhammer fandom. Obscenity with primarchs is fine🫶🏻 Can I do something with Sanguine (or are you writing for everyone at once? in general, here it will be more convenient for you)) that meme: the reader – "I have done nothing wrong in my life"; the primarch – "I know this and I love you." But the reader did something like that🤭
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hello! o/ of course i can write something either way! ill write something with sanguinius because i like him a lot. i am normal about him. i am normal about him. i am normal about h (feel free to add more asks if youre into my writing style lol)
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word count: 999
content warnings: slight mention of colonialism but like you're into 40k so what did you expect
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You giggled to yourself, your legs dangling off of the Primarch’s bed. It was far too large for you, and frankly far too large for him as well. The weighted blanket under you was comically large, and the mattress you sat upon yielded slightly to your form. The bed was perfect, as was the man you loved so dearly. And outside the window of the Red Tear, a temperate planet spun ever so slowly. Its white sun cast a shadow enveloping half of the planet in darkness. It was almost peaceful here, in the outer atmosphere of this strange new planet.
And you know what you did.
In your defense, you had found it hilarious. In concept, at the very least. You'd scoured the ship for feathers large and pale enough to come from your lover, and once you'd found enough (and learned how to pull off tricks that required some slight of hand) you'd gone to your lover, an ornate leather bag draped over you. The clasp on this bag was undone, but you doubt your lover would have noticed. And when you saw him, you ran towards him at a full sprint. He noticed you slightly after, his blood-red eyes widening.
"Sanguinius, my love!" you exclaimed, wrapping your arms around his cold armor.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, saying your name with the amount of care you'd come to expect from your lover. "What do you come to me about?" he asked, pushing your arms off of him. He knelt down to put his heavy arms around you for a few seconds, and you melted into his touch.
He pulled away and took your hands in his. His hands enveloped yours, you were just over half his size after all. Oh dear, you thought, not wanting to be the first one to pull away from this gesture. The Brightest One had often been one to initiate romantic gestures, and you hated pulling away. But this wasn't your first time pulling away.
"I just wanted to talk to you," you said. Without thinking, you pursed your lips before they went back to normal. As normal as a giddy smile was, at least.
"Talk to me," the primarch repeated. "Hmm. Well, talk away."
The two of you started a conversation about the... weather of the planet. How exciting. While he looked vaguely in your direction, you'd dropped a feather on the ground. Then another. You responded to his idle chatter about the planet below the Red Tear. Yes, it would be a wonderful addition to the Imperium of Man. Then you dropped a few more feathers onto the cold metal ground.
Finally, you looked down at... his feathers? Your feathers? They were far enough from you that it could have been plausible that they had come from the primarch.
"Oh, Sanguinius! You're molting!" you exclaimed in terror, a pile of feathers now at Sanguinius's feet.
"I'm... molting,'' Sanguinius replied softly, bending down to the floor and picking up a feather. He looked back at you, his expression greatly changed.
The dread on his face made yours flush. Oh no, you thought to yourself, wringing out your hands in front of you. What did I just do? Without thinking, you turned tail and ran off. You knew the Red Tear well enough now that you only made one misstep before fumbling with the doorknob that was way too high for you and running onto that bed.
You giggled to yourself. A nervous giggle.
And you heard footsteps. You've heard primarch footsteps before, as Sanguinius was not one to shy away from showing you off to his brothers. His were rather light as far as they went, though, as you couldn't unhear the thud. thud. thud. that they produced. You couldn't help but feel your heart fall in your chest; you didn't yet know how he would respond to this.
And then you heard the door open, an agonizingly slow creak. "My darling?" you heard an all too familiar voice ask softly. "Are you in here?"
You grabbed the weighted blanket underneath you. You contemplated whether to say something, but not a second later, his eyes darted towards you. The door swung open, and the primarch folded in his wings to fit through the door. "Ah, hello there," he said with a hint of relief in his voice. You could see his wings relaxing behind him.
"Hello, dear," you replied. Your stomach turned. You stared at him, trying to discern if he was angry, or scared, or a combination of the two. But his placid expression matched neither of those descriptions. He sat next to you on his bed, putting an arm around you. You let go of the blanket.
"Is everything alright?" he asked. No hint of anger or fear in his voice.
"I am," you replied softly. You looked up at him. "You're... you're not actually molting, by the way."
Sanguinius laughed, tossing his head back as he did so. His golden hair fell softly over his shoulders. He had a laugh that was contagious, as a little bit of a chuckle escaped your lips as well. His golden armor shifted as he moved, kept pristine no matter how many battles the primarch saw. "I figured that out a little bit ago," he replied. "It is going to take more than that to convince me for more than a few seconds."
The corners of your mouth quirked up. You looked back up at him, and saw a radiant smile dusting his face as well. "You have done nothing wrong, ever, in your life," he said.
"I have done nothing wrong, ever, in my life," you repeated with a relieved laugh. You looked down and away from him, rubbing your limp arm with your hand. Another chuckle escaped your lips.
"I know this," responded Sanguinius, his hand trailing down to your waist. Cold metal brushed against your skin, and you let out a small shiver at his touch. "And I love you."
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drysaladandketchup · 5 months
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Writing Meme
Tagged by my dear @irrelevanttous <3
RULES: go to your published works on AO3 and list the first fic you ever published there, the last fic you published, any fic that you wrote for a fandom/ship only once, your favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship that has the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonized over the most, the fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason
first fic you ever published on Ao3: Spirit of Champions, for the Supernatural/Destiel fandom. I don't even know why I'm linking the fic, it was ten years ago I'd like to think my writing has improved a lot since then so... maybe don't read it lol. I actually have another fic that says it was posted on the same date but I think that's because I moved them both over from livejournal at the same time, so whatever
last fic you published: Acts of Devotion for the Hockey/Mattdrai fandom. Much prouder of this fic haha, though I was still getting a feel for hockey and these guys during it's construction. It hopefully won't be my last mattdrai fic though. Got a few ideas and WIPs sitting in my drafts
a fic you wrote for a fandom/ship only once: I don't think I've ever written just one fic for a fandom. Though I certainly have many abandoned WIP's and a few unpublished fics from days gone by. Also due to a lack of ideas or energy, I often end up publishing nothing for a fandom, despite my love for it. But I'll go with the fandom I only published two fics for. After Life's Fitful Fever, He Sleeps Well for The Terror. It's actually a platonic ship (if that counts? Depends on your definition of 'ship' I suppose), but it's still one I'm quite fond of overall
favorite fic you wrote in the fandom/ship with the most works: well I already mentioned Supernatural, so that would be the obvious answer lol. But I already did that, so I'm going to go with a fic from the next biggest fandom I've published for. Which I would say is String Theory for Final Fantasy XV. The only FF game I've ever played, but I had a grand old time, made a lot of friends and had a lot of growth in that community
fic you wish more people read: Can I say any of my fics from the Dunkirk fandom? No? Boo. It's a tiny fandom so I don't expect a tonne of interaction haha. But it is the fandom I've written the most for. Ideas just kept on coming (probably because I love history and angst). So I'd say... Where You Were, Where You're Needed. My first for the fandom, and one I still love dearly
fic you agonized over the most: Skybound, for Dunkirk. It's the only novel-length fic I've written, and it took me two years. I also didn't publish it until it was completely finished, edited, re-drafted, and remodelled within an inch of it's life so... yeah that one. Plus all the history research and story planning that went into it was a lot more than I usually do. It was fun, I'm glad I finished it, but fuck I don't know how people write novels regularly. Stephen King tell me your secret
fic that sprang fully formed from your mind without any effort: For The Glory, for the Hockey/Mattdrai fandom. Maybe the fastest I've written anything. Basically wrote it from start to finish within a couple hours, not including food and sleep. Not a monumental fic, no, but for someone with chronic fatigue and adhd... astounding. It was very much a result of conversations with M. and her determination to drag me into hockey and mattdrai. Successfully, clearly haha
work you are proud of: I'm going to say Skybound again. Small fandom, but a huge fic for me. One I could probably turn into an original piece with minimal finagling if I wanted. I would also like to think one could enjoy the fic without having seen Dunkirk. That being said, now that it's been over a year a half since I finished it, I'm already looking at it thinking 'I could have written this differently. I could have removed this or tweaked that.' Editor hell. But I'm leaving it as is, using it as a benchmark for my (hopefully) continued improvement as a writer. I think I improved over the course of writing it, even. A lot changed from inception to publication. But I'm no less proud of it, as a written work or as a story. I did what I wanted, and I wrote the exact story I wanted to read. So I'm happy :)
Thank you for the tag, M.! <3
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ms-scarletwings · 9 months
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(っ◔◡◔)っ 𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚜~!
You have reached the main blog of a twenty-something, avid enthusiast of biology, merriment, and several things fiction- Call me Scarlet! The homegrown flowers here bloom in many shades of passion, so feel free to take a stroll.
So yeah, this is mostwhat of a multi-fandom menagerie and dumping ground for the things which rattle around in my brain. It is mainly Queue-fed, and while my top interests are hella diverse and ever-fluctuating, this is the main group/area of media you can expect the most return engagement with from me in the foreseeable future:
• Dredge
• The Sly Cooper Game Series
• Moral Orel
• Making Fiends
• Invader Zim
• A Certain Scientific Accelerator
• The lesser discussed works of David Firth
• Underrated Indie game creators the likes of KHS, Edmund McMillen, Scriptwelder, etc.
I no longer be continuing CFF or MMM one as a formal series, but instead just kind of speak my media brainworms when they choose to strangle me. Always looking for a new springboard to strike from, though 👀
Cont. on for some lists ‘n links.
Tags Guide, Sorta:
+ Scarlet talks about things - I release my worms, i.e. the takes. Pretty much what it says on the tin, a catch all for personal text posts ranging from long winded essays about Blorbo from my shows, infodumping about science, to just sharing something ponging around in my head lately. Usually try to reserve this tag for mid to long form original content.
+ Scarlet rambles about things - same deal, less filter, much more stream of consciousness. Includes short takes. Think of it like a bonus reel.
+ My Memes - self explanatory, ya goof.
+ Masterlists - if you showed up here off of, say, one of my media takes and wanted to know if there’s a highlight reel of mine dedicated to that specific show or series. Right now I’ve only got a couple but would be happy to pile together something else on request if there’s enough material.
Other bits of note:
* Following my interest trends, a lot of psychological and physical horror adjacent stuff is to be in-and-out expected here. Mostly on the level of stuff that wouldn’t get a show kicked off of a prime time children’s slot, but with lenient outliers. I’m also a massive bug enthusiast and it will bleed into the overall vibe and in the occasional real life photos i want to share. I will do my best to tag any potentially triggering content, but discretion be advised for the particularly sensitive. Lovecraftian terror fuel makes me go gaga and we’ll probably get along if it does you as well.
* Suggestions and friendly pokes about my blog content in general are welcomed in anons/asks, but not in my dms, thanks!
* This is user is critically and staunchly 🌈🍖
^ Only bothering to get this litmus test out of the way because I have noticed that some of the fandoms I am interested in are magnets for spicy discourse, and media discussion in today’s climate is a hotbed for this bandaid to get ripped off sooner or later. If you are someone who’s knee-jerk response to that emoji pairing and statement without any further elaboration was one of vitriol, extreme discomfort, and/or aggression, this is not a DNI; however, it is a request for good faith and clarification in whatever engagement you may or may not voluntarily choose with my stuff. It is a stern reminder of the old saying about assumptions. Something-something, makes an ass out of u and me. The less asses in the world, the less shit there will be all around.
* Not only am I quite the fanatic for others’ kinetic aesthetic, I’m something of an animator myself, sometimes! You can check out my Flipnote Studio projects over on my YouTube channel or as well on my art side blog (under-maintained at the current moment but looking to improve on that).
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ohboi · 2 years
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Random Headcanons I have for the Brothers Oppress:
Feral:
Has an impressive Lil Jon impersonation, it's his go-to vocal stim to which he torments his brothers with. Like imagine Deepthroat by Cupcakke sung in a uncannily well Lil Jon accent💀
Says he doesn't like kids, but is excellent with them, especially with small toddlers and babies, it's like a switch flips and he goes into Dad mode, gets really protective as well
Hardly ever wears a shirt, when he does it's usually a button up that only two buttons are buttoned up, or a really dank meme tee or rock band shirt.
He can sing really well
He fucking loves potatoes. In any form. He would eat them raw if Savage didn't have anything to say about.
Has a tik tok where he posts memes thirst traps, covers of his favorite songs, and sometimes just pure chaos
He helped his brothers find a label that fits their sexuality after he found his💗💛💙. Although Maul and Savage don't normally talk about that, Feral is out and proud and will happily answer any questions about his identity that anyone may have.
I like to believe that the Nightbrothers had their own magicks before the Nightsisters took over everything (maybe they used more elements of the planet in different ways to help heal or strengthen each other) and I like to think that Feral was well versed in these things in secret (to keep their culture alive) being that the Nightsisters probably would forbid them of this to quell any thoughts of rebellion.
Is very much a "Haunted Whore Halloween" person when it comes to Halloween costumes. From Sexy Bounty Hunter to Slutty Ewok (thank you @butts-art for blessing us with that😩), He has no issue with showing up and showing off.
He's on the autism spectrum, and sometimes goes non-verbal (to which he uses sign language to communicate)
Maul:
He's very particular about keeping things neat, especially his room.
He religiously wears black. Like almost his whole wardrobe is black. His brothers wonder how in space he hasn't gotten heatstroke yet when it gets hot out.
He is well versed in a lot high fashion brands (from being around his former master) and can see through any knockoffs no matter how good they are.
He has ADHD
Occasionally asks Savage and Feral about how things were back at home, since he wasn't there that long.
He knows how to sew, knit, etc. Because they didn't know each other that well, Maul and Feral's relationship was bit rocky to start out, so whenever they would get into fights, sometimes Maul would feel bad about it and make Feral something like a kint hat as a peace offering. It always worked, and Feral often wears the things Maul makes makes him when it's gets colder out.
Has insomnia because of traumatic experiences (from that raggedy bitch S*****s)
tbh, this mf has the tism' too
I don't remember who brought it up first (please please please tell me if y'all know so can credit them 🙏🏽) , but they had a smart point of bringing up the health issues that would arise after what happened to Maul in TPM up until he was revived. So yeah, I do agree with that HC, Specifically that he struggles with chronic nausea.
Savage:
When he really laughs he does that thing that Chris Evans does when he laughs
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this one :)
Is a really good cook, like a REALLY good cook
Can also sing quite well, however NEVER does so in public, and has only done so to soothe Feral whenever he has night terrors (😭)
He is Intersex, he had mostly feminine traits when he was born, but transitioned since he was in tune with his masculine side more. He was told to keep it a secret, therefore not even Maul or Feral know of this fact.
He taught himself how to play guitar, then taught Maul and Feral because they both were curious to learn.
He knows a helluva lot about star signs and birth charts and the moons phases. He also has a shit ton of crystals in his room (and every now and then you'll see him cleansing the house after Maul and Feral have a bad argument 😂😭)
His periods are often rather painful, Ado suspects it could be Endometriosis, but because he's so used to them being this way he keeps putting off a visit to the doctor
Has tics due to a couple bad head injuries
Has what some would call a ‘Baddie Playlist’ (various icons, Mary💅🏽) on Spotify that he puts on full blast when Maul and Feral are away on random errands.
Has a skincare routine and forced helped Feral and Maul get their own as well
He can never find button-up shirts that work for him because of-well...his *cough* physique *cough*
Wears a lot of big hoodies around the house and tends to layer a lot due to ✨dysphoria✨ and just overall being hyper aware and insecure about his body
they all listen to a mix of power metal and phonk when they workout 🏋🚴💪
they'll sometimes do jam sessions in the basement of their favorite songs as well
(i will be adding to this post as i get more hc ideas)
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mindsmade · 7 months
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home - aeren pulls sh closer until sh’s face rests in the crook of aeren’s neck
@weaveshadows / meme
The terror rarely ceases these days, but Aerendyl can find reprieve from them here and there. In a way, he's stumbled upon one such occasion tonight — and then silently retreated from it. That moment by the statue of Selûne was meant for Shadowheart and her parents, and he can only feel glad to have played some part in bringing them together at all, circumstances be damned.
He stands now in the abandoned chapel bordering their camp, casting a cursory glance at the broken statues, the ruined pews lying about, and the flickering candle flames every now and again. He spent a minute or two leaning against the altar before his thoughts veered elsewhere — away from the Hallowleaf family, their reunion and the aftermath they're faced with now, and towards that of his own.
In the absence of distractions, he thinks of the letter etched into his memory. His mother's sloppy handwriting was and is unmistakable, but that what it described bemuses him still. Aerendyl briefly dwells on the initial relief he'd felt upon receiving it, thinking her safe after all, indeed, but the lack of sense in her words swiftly whittles that sensation down to mild despair.
The answer as to why she'd chosen to reunite with his father now, after that momentous fall-out decades ago, eludes him. Their impromptu reunion said to only be lacking his presence might have induced unbridled elation in his ten-year-old self, but his present-day skepticism wins out every time he meditates on the matter.
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Something is wrong. His first thought always leads to Orin playing games; his second leads to those accursed tadpoles. There are no alternatives — even if he tries to fool himself into thinking his paranoia's getting the better of him at last, and he can simply no longer recognise a good thing when he sees it. Reconciliation between those two was never an option.
Aerendyl snaps out of his thoughts and reaches a standstill amidst his pacing as the heavy wooden door creaks. He forgets what he was thinking about for a while, and he's all too content with that. There's a welcome distraction in studying what he soon recognises as Shadowheart's silhouette against the backdrop of moonlight pouring in.
❛  I hope my leaving didn't cause any offence. I thought the moment best kept between you three.  ❜ He remains stock still in the middle of the aisle for another moment, briefly wringing his hands. By the time his hands fall to his side, Shadowheart's already within arm's reach.
'Are you all right?' Somehow, it takes until the second echo of her words in this vaulted building for him to register it. They form a simple question with a complicated answer, for he's beyond pleased to see Shadowheart reunited with their family ( despite any initial unease ). They have a future with each other in it now, and something to fight the Elder Brain that much more fiercely for.
But Aerendyl finds himself hoping the same might lie in his future, yet fears – expects – he will see any possibility for it shatter before his eyes.
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❛  I'm not sure. Are you?  ❜ He won't lie to her, and he expects she'll offer him the same courtesy. They're both navigating troubled waters now, even if the directions of the tides they sail vary all too greatly.
The absence of an instant answer begs a change of tactic. Perhaps not everything needs to be put into words; some things can simply be felt, rather than discussed. But he wishes to share and partake in the resolution of what ails them both, even if it proves only to be a temporary reprieve — and so he reaches out, his right hand to their left, and pulls them his way.
Close, closer, closest — until they come together and he can snake his arms about her, coaxing her into resting her head in the crook of his neck. A sigh flees him as he rests his chin atop her head and languidly starts thumbing her shoulder blade beneath his hand. The other seeks refuge at the base of her head, right where it meets her nape.
He drinks in the comfort of their embrace, registering every point of contact. His chin to their hair, their breath fanning across his collarbone, the gentle ( yet somehow urgent ) press of their arms along his shoulders and neck — all rousing a sense of connection he feels more at home in than he can describe.
The faintest smile touches upon his lips as he shuts his eyes, pondering the solace that's draped itself across him ( and hopefully across Shadowheart, too ) like a warm blanket. ❛ Well, I do feel much better for having you here, for what it's worth. ❜
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to explain myself under the cut:
p3 would probably cook those horrid tiktok/generally bad (or socially unacceptable) recipes with the expectation that it'll be good. there's like a 50-50 chance the food'll be actually good or it'll be the worst thing your eyes and tastebuds have experienced
oh sir dude on the other hand would literally be like that trope of a child making a heinous concoction of a """meal""" for their parents as a well-meaning surprise. he'd straight up be like "honey i made dinner just for you 😍" and it's borderline poisonous semi-radioactive material schlop
p1 probably already has a decent amount of canned food/mres/frozen pre-prepared food at the ready, as i imagine having extreme paranoia would make you not wanna get take-out often. plus i imagine that while he could cook, he just chooses not to since it can be kinda draining sometimes (take it from me, someone who occassionally likes to cook every once in a while). that and actually intrusive thoughts could get concerning for him. On a good mental health day though, he'd be at 'can cook the basics' tier
i dont think nottem gives that much of a shit enough to put in any amount of effort to ever cook himself anything decent, let alone a basic dish. I feel like MAYBE the one time he would cook something is if uh idk he's on a date?????? but even then thats questionable dsfhhsddsfh
I know corkscrew isnt technically canon but THIS IS MY POST, I MAKE THE RULES HDSFHD but i feel like corkscrew would be too impatient to cook anything decent, or he's like drunk 80% of the time, which would make cooking a little risky. also i imagine him cooking would be like that one meme video of a lady going "now add 2oz of vodka" then proceeds to pour half the bottle in like its nothing dsfhds
P2 and P4 both would only cook those easy to make, simple recipes that dont require much ingredients or preparation but for entirely different reasons. P2 is mainly bc i can see him just being too exhaused and stressed after a day out in paradise, so why add more to that? thats even if hes hungry considering the fact he ate like all the towns pizza and donuts hsdfhdjs. with p4 on the other hand he's just enjoying the simple stress free life, so why be so snooty and pretentious, especially over something he'll inhale anyway?
Recidivist and Widowmaker, based on their loose descriptions, I feel probably wouldn't have much motivation or generally aren't very hoity toity. they just want to make their dinner and so be it if it's simple, life is already difficult to them as it is. heck theyd probably just order take out or some shit. post-nottem's rein of terror, they largely wouldn't really care about cooking anyway so bare minimum it is.
Movie Dude is literally the one postal dude regional varient that actually has some sembalance of his shit together, so i imagine that in an ideal situation, he could probably cook you up a nice homemade meal. it's not gonna be food network-type worthy, but man you WILL like it
Psychocop, esp. pre-nottem's supermassive scp k-class senario, probably seemed like the kind of guy that had his dookie together and enjoyed making himself a nice dinner anytime he could make something. post-nottem's 360 noscope against humanity attempt, i can definately see him making his comrades something thats actually fucking good bc he got tired of seeing them make shitty basic ass food by themselves that wont help them out in the long run during their own rein of terror
Redux would still have the same-ish issues that P1 has, but i feel like redux would try to improve himself and try to overcome them anyway since he just wants to live a happy life just like everyone else. because of that, i imagine he'd like take cooking almost very seriously, wanting to take time (if he can) to make himself a good ass meal as a form of self-care. it would be so much so that if he ever had to be ur roommate, you'll have the bestest fuckin homemade food in ur whole damn life when he does feel like cooking. like literally lifechanging in a way. obviously he wouldnt use stupid boujie ingredients or dumb shit like that but my god you will FEEL boujie just eating it. he'd obviously have his off-days where he'd get take-out or go for pre-made but homemade makes him feel a bit better
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five times comforted:      ( five times the receiver comforted the sender ) for Alice
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5 times ... meme ( no longer accepting ) + @demone-volpe // lupin
A tongue that clicks tight to the roof of her mouth. Blue eyes that dart, and observe, and learn! Alice looks to this person with her cheeks that hollow out, lips pouting, as if testing and checking and TRYING TO FEEL. "... this is real life, isn't it?" looking to this man, this stranger for whom she smiles now, up and at them! On two legs, dusting at the knees, there's so much that remained an unknown, yes, but... there too was a feeling within her that they could at least get her started. And with every grand adventure! There was someone with knowledge, and perhaps that was why he was here? Why be afraid, when the world was already setting her up for some form of success with his presence in the here and now? A hand held out, as if nothing were at all remiss, as if she didn't remember her own death, as if to be reborn weren't but a strange thing at all for her. "I'm Alice! And you are?" because it all must start somewhere.
Oh how anger, how confusion rots like madness in her! Fruit that's been spoilt, is that not Alice now, who remembers too much with every passing, every death. And there's so few that understand the plight of it, but Lupin does! How her laughter that cracks like a winding thing, like upended clockwork, peels raw within her mouth, terror SEEPING THROUGH at the cracks. "Why must I remember it all!" laughing, laughing! Doesn't she look at if she might just break if allowed to live like this? "What use is a heroine with no hope for humanity? Why, there's no use for her at all!" as if it were some cat's riddle to be spun and indelicately placed where the path splits, or perhaps this was her. Alice couldn't be Alice without her muchness, and humanity, oh, she looks to him as if to plead for death, her words a rattling thing within her chest. "What do I do? How can I live like this with no use and no purpose?" she'll plead and cry and laugh in all the same beat, but Lupin, ah, a kinder soul than she ever could expect... he'll hold together her crowded, shattered pieces, and let her beg, barter and plead until all of it wrings dry out of her in sheer exhaustion. Until there's nothing left, but sleep.
"WHY HELLO," there's a curious little smile from her, looking to a face that seems all to unbothered by her appearance. Ah, was it like that then? “And what a beautiful, dizzying, delightful demon you are.” she means it, with all her twisting heart, the smile that blooms for it spilling all her ink for him. Alice goes chasing something twisty and windy to end up here, within this demon's domain - after her damnable cat, her Cheshire daydream unwinding and winding up like a mechanical and dimensional thing. It seems he knows her, but what's a girl to do! Alice remembers nothing at all, having traded her memories and her madness to a witch, in exchange for a sliver of peace for her pieces. And that damnable cat, in upside-down contrarian nature, is watching to be sure the curse, her price, has stuck. But she smiles, anyways. "I'm awfully sorry if you knew me before. You see, I've gone and made an awful deal, so if we've known each other before, I might not remember it in this lifetime. I'd be awfully pleased if you did remember me though! I promise. In fact... it's a relief that somebody does, really." one pinky, delicately linking to Lupin's own, finger, claw, finger - shifting fast! The universe is slipping, sliding, ready to dissolve.
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Oh how girlhood could be a strange thing for a young girl! Or, as young as she thinks she might be. Truthfully, Alice only knows that there's been other hers in other lives, and that perhaps she's far older than she looks, and far younger than THE UNIVERSE AT LARGE. That's hardly something to hold do, isn't it? But she exists, with no start, and no ending, like the red string of fate itself, ever winding, winding... she sighs, she hums. A tired thing with a shifting gaze that feels listless now, her heart a sore and aching thing. Lupin there, all glowing eyes and a distinct lack of his usual flirtation, watching her as she digs a foot within the sand of this beach, stretched endless the way that Time itself might. "... I think I might have really loved them, you know. But they keep asking for the impossible. Remember me, they always say. But I can't remember anything but silhouettes and outlines each time I die, each time I'm reborn. What do I do? I've just gone and disappointed them all again." a pat on the head - and Alice smiles, ever so slightly. "... mmm... you're right. It'll be fine, won't it? Isn't it a splendid gift, regardless? I can give them one whole life of love. Spoil them rotten with the stuff. Won't that be enough?"
Names, names, names, they sit in a hat, waiting to be pulled out by the right hands. She only gets snippets when strolling through someone's dreams, you're there, you're gone, and with this one, she's been handed it with a sense of grace that she wasn't quite expecting from someone of his stature. But all he wants is a story, or so he says, Alice taking that seat at his side with fallen grace, legs swinging, unbothered it seems by the shifting of his form, the unsettling of his skin. This Lupin fellow seems quite the comfort indeed! Old scars, new ones, too, she leans, palms sinking into soft fabric. "What KIND OF STORY did you want to hear? Or know about… is it about me? Being a heroine isn’t what they teach you in fairy tales. Not all the dreams I end up in are happy, and filled with nice people… I’ve hurt people, and bathed in their trauma, I defeat their terrors, by choking the life out of them. Because if I don’t, they hurt me instead. I kill and I kill and I kill and I take it all. Half the time… I don’t even know what’s real, anymore.” a glance his way, a smile that borders on apologetic. “… I don’t even know if you’re real.” bright, again, as if the switch has flipped. "But you haven't tried to eat me yet! So... perhaps that's a win for this lifetime? Hm! Maybe... if you'd be so kind. I'd love to hear a story from you instead?"
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universestreasures · 1 year
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@kinglanius​ Sent: A Touching Tenderly Meme (Accepting)      
a touch when it is storming. [@ Ruri, either Nobles of Nature orrrrrrrr Wings of Paradise]
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It’s rainy night like these that take her back to her days at the orphanage. The leaking of the rainwater onto her head, the sounds of the other children shrinking after each thunder clap, the way Allen used to get so frustrated when his inventions shorted out from the water; all of it had been engraved into Ruri’s memory. Everything from her time in that hellscape was like that to the point where she still had bad dreams about it every so often, despite having lived in Madár for months now.
It’s the combination of the storm outside and her bad dreams that makes her unable to sleep that night, having spent hours tossing and turning in her bed. She just couldn’t get to sleep. Blocking out the sounds with a pillow didn’t work, and neither did trying to think about something else. On top of all of that, her back pain from her scars flared up again, almost like the shadow of the headmaster of the orphanage and her terror still hung over her.
However, where there is darkness and fear, there is is light and comfort. For the young wingless heir, that comes in form of her elder brother and a gentle touch he places on her head. Ever since she’s met him, she’s felt...safer with him near. Was it because he was her bodyguard? Perhaps, but she would like to think it’s more because of their familial bond. It explained why she felt so comfortable going with Shun in the first place. Not just anyone would suddenly trust a winged soldier who claimed you were the heir to a magical place of winged folk, right?
Her breathing slows as she feels the warmth of his hand, instantly calming the anxious feeling deep in the fit of her stomach. It wasn’t often he showed this softer side to himself. Most of the time Shun acted so serious and professional around her, as if he forgot the fact she and him were brother and sister. Yet, it is moments like this that reminder her of the truth of their dynamic, as complicated as it may be. 
He may be her royal guard on paper and to the rest of the kingdom, but to her and those who knew the two Kuroskai youths closely, they were wholeheartedly brother and sister. It was just...taking some time to fully adjust to everything, which Ruri can fully understand despite how hard it can be at points. And if there is anything she’s learned since having been found by her brother again, is that the best things in life often are the ones one must be patient for.
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“Thank you, Brother. I...I never liked storms. However, I...I know...I know I can face them with you by my side. Just like I can face anything that comes our way...”
Her wishes on those stars for so many years had come true. She had been given a family of her own, and that’s something she’d never take for granted, even if she just wishes being family would be the only thing Shun would focus on instead of his ‘duty’ to the heir of Madár...
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~
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crispyblonde · 8 months
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@huntmom asked: "You're safe here. You can rest now." from the escaping imminent danger meme forever ago yikes i'm sorry
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her eyelids were heavy, but her heart was still pounding. it had probably been over an hour since jody had saved her ass, but time hadn't taken away any of the terror that had consumed her in the moments before she heard the dull thud of the vampire's head hitting the ground mere inches from her feet. six months, jessica had been back for six months and while she had honed in on her fighting skills, she had realized tonight that no matter how good she got at fighting the monsters superior strength and speed would overshadow her in an instant when coupled with the unanticipated. this time, she had underestimated the size of the nest and was ambushed by two vampires that had been infuriated to walk in on their three coven mates dead at her hands. she had already picked off another three of them when she'd caught them alone within the last couple of days. two in the park, another in the alleyway behind the bar, and a final one she had followed back to the nest. she hadn't seen the two that had ambushed her at all in her surveillance of the nest to prepare for a more targeted attack as she wasn't too sure what size to expect when it came to a group of vampires.
being bitten wasn't enough to turn her, the woman had assured her after offering to take her back to her place to bandage jess up. there was some inconsistent lore on that and jessica had been panicking since the moment she felt the tear of her flesh by the mouthful of terrifyingly sharp teeth of the large male vampire. nothing like the two dracula fangs that were commercialized in movies and halloween costumes. ❝ i think i'm still too wired to relax... and i don't want to put you out. ❞ she trusted jody and not only because she had quite literally saved her life, but the woman put off the most calming and helpful energy. something about her made jess yearn for an interaction with her mother past watching her from a distance to ensure that she was safe and enjoying some of her life, but that could expose her family to the dangers of all of this. she hadn't had any interactions with anyone that passed surface level since her resurrection. six long months of being torn between wanting to avoid dragging anyone else into this and the ever-growing suffocation of isolation. the latter having enough of an effect on her that she had agreed to lay on the woman's couch, not quite enoguh to stop the refusal of the offer to a spare bedroom.
❝ do you think there's more of them? they'll have my scent. and yours. ❞ the fear of demons coming after her to grab her and use her against sam always weighed heavy on her mind. this was a main motivation behind how she'd kept to herself. now jody might have some vengeful vampires coming for her head on top of that. the already forming tidal wave of guilt was starting to form, her throat tightened nearly making jessica feel breathless, and there wasn't the slightest sign of trouble or anyone tailing her since she had come back. that was the most confusing part. tears started to sting in her eyes, but she pressed them shut and tried to reign it back, no need to break down in front of the stranger; she had already done so much for her. ❝ they could always be arrogant enough to come after us, despite finding five corpses left behind in their nest. ❞
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ok, i have around 35 minutes left on the batman 2022. and now, i believe is when we're going to get the inexplicable act of violence of the riddler flooding gotham like he's noah, despite every action previous pointing towards him knowing that the real enemy is people in power using said power to exploit the abject misery of gotham's people (misery that they are directly responsable for) to make even more money.
this had to happen because reasons. cant have the leftist radical making Too Much sense!
and before you @ me, yes it makes sense for the story they're telling. hopefully we get more character development for the bat in the sequel, because he is still wrong about a lot of things! but making villains revolutionaries and then pulling the rug from under us with a "HA! they tricked you! they just wanted to kill/they were jealous and resentful/they wanted to be the new oppressor/etc" is also part of a wider trend which i find very annoying. it just makes me wish i was reading commie trash fanfic instead 🤣
we can have stories that dont do this to us. that treat us like, yknow, intelligent people who can form their own opinions. the immortal hulk for example, which i havent read yet because my "to watch/read later" list is so long that i get anxious even thinking about it. no cheap tricks required baby!
now we're at the hotel room again! just saw the polaroids 🤣 those should be a new meme format :p martinez is here! "what are you doing here?" and bruce just stands there, ominously. that counts as an answer right? no wait. another mark for the "we accidentally made an autistic man" tally. he's tried to answer questions asked like this before (its not actually a question, they just want you to stop) and it got him yelled at so he just Doesnt.
martinez is trying to make small talk. oh god why. !!! i didnt know there was a tool for that. would have helped a lot to know when we installed carpet in my bedroom when i was 14 :/
"A REAL CHANGE" yeah, yeah, you're gonna recreate the flood, whatever. though i really like the akira and ryo thing the batman and the riddler have going. "hey guys :) thanks for all the comments :) special thanks for the tips on detonators :)" he's my comfort twitch streamer. aaaww he's getting emotional :3 he got radicalized by 4chan because he wanted friends is what we're going for?
he wants to kill miss real too, the other candidate for mayor who won by default, because her opponent got fucking murdered. he believes that it's all a lie and it's all gonna keep getting worse. very doomer.
i dont think electoralism and reform do much either, because you're constantly compromising with people who dont think X group deserves to live or just dont care/consider it an acceptable loss if X group dies. you spend so much time arguing that the people you try to help end up dying while waiting for you to gain ground through "the proper channels".
it only becomes less of a slog if there is a tangible threat to the interests (or lives) of the ruling class that could be pacified by making things less shit/better for marginalized groups. if he hadnt done a terrorism right at the end of the movie, the riddler and his supporters could have been that for bella real. a symbiotic relationship, even if they hold deep distaste for eachother, would have been incredibly useful for the people of gotham and would have led to the betterment of their quality of life...
but instead of holding her to her promises of change (which he could have done very easily, he's a smart boy and he's killed before, very publically) NO! LETS KILL HER *explodes the sea wall* there are problems murder and violence cannot solve, you cant stab rich people until social safety networks come out (well, you can. but the riddler did it wrong lol)
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edendaphne · 3 years
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“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 18
>>Click here to read on Ao3<<
>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<
——-
CHAPTER 18: AFFETUOSO
 Music glossary:
 Affetuoso: to perform with passion and emotion
**Chapter illustration by @corgi-likes-chat​ **
----
(Mood Music: “Christofori’s Dream” - David Lanz)
Adrien’s eyelids fluttered open, a sleepy smile still present on his face. He breathed out a long, contented sigh, stretching his limbs out wide enough that they poked out of the bedcovers. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so well.
Last night, after Marinette awoke him from his most harrowing night terror to date, he’d fallen back asleep and something remarkable happened: for the second time in years, he’d actually had a pleasant dream. The only other time he hadn’t suffered from his usual nightmares ever since becoming Chat Noir was on the first night that he’d arrived at the Dupain-Cheng residence.
He tried to think back, wondering what might have caused this, not just last night, but back on that first day Marinette had brought him home. What did these two occurrences have in common?
His mouth quirked to the side and his brow furrowed, deep in thought, trying to remember. He wasn’t exactly in the best frame of mind when he’d arrived a couple of months back, given all that had happened when he ran away from his father; so it was no surprise that his memory of that night was hazy at best. Nevertheless, he hoped to find a correlation; if there was one, maybe he could figure out how to repeat it.
His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle hand sliding across his midsection. Disturbed by his movements, a smaller body rolled toward him, settling comfortably on his chest and breathing out a drowsy sigh.
He looked down and there she was: sweet, lovely Marinette; one of the dearest and most important people in his life. The raven-haired girl stirred, letting out a small whine; Adrien stilled, subconsciously holding his breath, not wanting to wake her and accidentally reveal his identity.
This became much harder when she reached around him, her fingers lightly skimming across his rib cage. His muscles tensed and he bit back a laugh; why did he have to be so darn ticklish?!
He readjusted himself, trying to shuffle out from underneath her; but she clinged to him like an overgrown barnacle, even in her unconscious state. I guess she’s a cuddler, he thought, and he couldn’t help but smile about how well that suited her.
It was still pretty dark in the room, as the sun hadn’t risen yet. He glanced over at the wall clock; he still had about an hour and a half before he had to report to work at the bakery, so he didn’t have to rush to get ready. Relieved, he sagged back down onto his pillow. He could relax for a little longer, he supposed.
Deciding to check his notifications while Marinette slept, he gingerly reached towards his nightstand to grab his phone, careful not to disturb her. He’d deactivated all his social media accounts since running away from home, so there weren’t very many notifications; there was a school-related email and a couple of late night funny memes from Nino.
Adrien checked the Ladyblog next. No news about any akumas this morning, thankfully. However, there were a few blurry snapshots of the previous night’s attack. He scrolled down for a bit, then stopped, his eyes popping open as he focused his attention on a particular photo.
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He couldn’t suppress the lovestruck sigh that escaped his lips when he stared at a picture of Ladybug. His Lady was breathtaking, her eyes so ethereal, her smile utterly resplendent. She was indescribably beautiful, both inside and out and there was absolutely nothing he would change about her. He was hopelessly smitten, no doubt about it.
A few months ago, he would have berated himself for feeling this way about his mortal enemy. But his entire life had been turned upside down since then, and he wholeheartedly embraced this unexpected development.
The next photo was taken after the akuma was purified and the Miraculous Cure had set everything back to where it should be. Ladybug had seen that Alya was about to snap a photo, so she grabbed Chat and turned him around to face the camera, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. She grinned widely, and did a peace sign with her free hand. So cute.
He glanced over to his own face and instinctively grimaced. He was winking at the camera with a goofy, cheerful salute, not bothering to channel the suave, sophisticated mannerisms of a proper model that he’d incurred over the years. God, I’m so cringy, he thought.
Nevertheless, he saved the picture onto his phone. It was the first photo of them together like this, as opposed to impersonal ones taken by the media from afar, or during press releases and interviews.
It had only been posted a few hours ago, but already it had thousands of likes and comments. He didn’t dare look through those, however. Not since he first discovered the kinds of things people wrote about Chat Noir, both before and after his change in alliances. It was better to avoid those, lest he ruin his day reading about how much some people still hated him.
But he remembered Marinette’s words from the night before. She was right; he had to have hope, and believe that things would slowly get better. Attitude was everything.
Speaking of Marinette…
He looked down at his roommate once again. By this point, she’d slinked and climbed almost entirely on top of him, utilizing him like a mattress. His eyebrows scrunched together, and he wondered how in the world he’d be able to slip out of bed undetected.
All the stealth-based videogames I’ve ever played have prepared me for this moment. I got this!! he thought, hyping himself up.
Taking a deep breath in, he rolled over to his side, managing to slide Marinette’s ragdoll-like form back onto the mattress. She made a small noise and he froze, electricity crawling up the back of his neck. A few tense moments passed, and her stirring subsided, her breathing becoming slow and even once again. He exhaled, just now realizing he’d been holding his breath.
Freedom!! Adrien celebrated as he stood, stretching his arms high over his head, taking care not to hit the ceiling lights. His skin felt grimy with dried sweat from the night before; a shower was exactly what he needed right now. He tiptoed over to get a change of clothes from the dresser, giving the occasional glance towards the bed to make sure Marinette was still asleep.
As he made his way to the bathroom, he stopped by her side, a warm smile spreading across his face. He bent over and gave the top of her head a small kiss. Where would he be without her and her family? She and Sabine especially went out of their way to help him feel at home, to make him feel like he belonged, instead of treating him like a nuisance, or like some freeloader just taking up space. He loved them all so much; he vowed to himself to make it up to them someday.
He pulled the bedcovers up to Marinette’s shoulders so she wouldn’t miss the extra warmth too much, then made his way to the bathroom to start the day.
--
Marinette stirred, enveloped in softness and a familiar scent of spice and fresh rain. Eyes still closed, she extended her arm, reaching for the oversized cat pillow on her bed that she always liked to cuddle.
Her searching hand found something soft. Aha! She brought it closer, snuggling it tight, then began to get comfortable again. But then, her pillow started poking her cheek, over and over and over. The pillow’s poking only intensified when she tried squeezing it even harder. How rude!
Wait... what?
A single eyelid groggily slid open, meeting a small pair of eyes of a distinctive shade of green. A rather frazzled-looking Plagg stared back, his expression unamused from being squished between her and the pillow she was hugging.
“Sorry, Plagg,” she slurred sleepily as she pulled away to give him some space. “What are you doing here?”
He crossed his little arms, raising a brow. “I live here, remember?”
“But why are you in my room–– oh, wait…” she stopped, the memory of last night starting to rush back to her. This wasn’t her room; it was Chat’s. She’d slept in his room last night. And the bed she was lying in was his bed. These were his blankets and pillows, and they carried his scent. Heat rose to her face and a multitude of imaginary butterflies swarmed in her stomach as she realized that she’d actually spent the night with him, albeit under less than ideal circumstances.
And then a second realization dawned on her: Chat Noir was gone.
She sat up with a start, her head whipping back and forth to search for him. As she was about to panic, she heard the shower running in the en suite bathroom, punctuated by some cheerful humming. With a heavy, relieved sigh, she laid back down, careful not to squish the tiny cat god next to her.
“By the way, Little Bug,” Plagg murmured, meekly rubbing the back of his head. “Thanks for helping my kid last night.”
“Oh, of course, Plagg!” she replied. “I’m always happy to help however I can.”
He gave her a melancholy smile. “I just wish there was more I could’ve done. I tried waking him up myself, but he couldn’t hear me at all, no matter how hard I tried.” He sighed, twisting his mouth into a pained frown. “He doesn’t deserve this. He's already gone through so much.”
“Plagg, no, it’s okay! You did your best, and I’m sure Chat knows that too. I’m just glad I was able to get through to him. It was lucky that I happened to be downstairs at that time. Chat couldn’t ask for a better friend than you.”
Plagg grinned widely at her. “I always knew I liked you,” he remarked, scooting closer and nuzzling into her.
Marinette smiled back, returning the hug and kissing the top of his head, followed by providing him with some gentle scratches behind the ears. He let out a small, contented purr as he leaned into her hand.
After a few moments of hesitation, Plagg spoke again, “Little Bug, there’s... something else you need to know.”
They pulled apart, and Marinette eyed him with trepidation. “What is it?”
“It was too dark, so you didn’t see it, but–” he said with a grim tone in his voice, “–I need to let you know what really happened last night.”
“Huh?” Marinette’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “What do you mean? I know he said his night terrors aren’t usually this bad, but was there something else?”
A dark look flickered on Plagg’s face. “Hawkmoth tried to akumatize him last night.”
Marinette felt like she’d been dropped into a vat of ice water. “W- WHAT?!” she sputtered. “B-but how is that possible?! Akumatized?? He was asleep! Hawkmoth can’t akumatize people who are unconscious!!” She paused, pondering the possibility. “Right…?”
“It’s tricky, but not impossible,” Plagg replied. “Hawkmoth knows about Chat Noir’s nightmares, so he must’ve sensed his opportunity and finally taken it last night.”
Marinette brought a hand to her temple in disbelief.
Plagg continued, “I don’t know why he decided to try it now, instead of when he first ran away. And what if–” he gulped, and his voice quavered slightly as he continued, unable to conceal his fear, “What if he tries it again? What if he tries it every night?”
“No… he wouldn’t… he can’t!!” Marinette cried, staring at the bathroom door, her mind racing a million miles a minute. She clenched her fists as she tried not to give into the feelings of dismay and anxiety that were clawing away at her. “Plagg… What do we do?! Hawkmoth’s patterns seem to be getting more erratic and desperate recently. Is he under some kind of deadline? Why is he doing this??”
“I can think of a couple of reasons,” Tikki answered from across the room.
Marinette practically leaped off the bed in surprise due to Tikki’s abrupt entrance. “Tikki!” she exclaimed.
The brightly colored kwami hovered towards them and elaborated, “Firstly, as Chat grows older, his powers will continue to get stronger, as will yours, so you’ll be more difficult for Hawkmoth to defeat as time goes on. Secondly, I think the effects of misusing the butterfly miraculous must be catching up to him as well. His desperation suggests that maybe he thinks he’s running out of time.”
“Out of time? What do you mean?” Marinette asked, confused.
Plagg sighed. “It’s his health,” he answered. "He wasn’t doing very well even before we left. Slowly but steadily, it’s been getting worse for a while.” He turned to face Tikki. “You think Hawkmoth believes that he’s gonna… you know... soon?”
Tikki shrugged in response, her expression blank.
“Oh… I see,” Marinette said, her voice almost a whisper.
Her mind raced, a torrent of emotions crashing into her simultaneously, like a rowboat in a tempest, slamming into a cliffside without respite.
She wasn’t sure how to feel about this new information. Her chest felt tight, like it did when she wanted to cry. Should she feel happy or sad that her mortal enemy was getting sicker and sicker, to the point where his life was potentially in danger? Was it okay to feel–dare she say it– relieved?
What was she supposed to think? As a hero, was it more important to be merciful, or was it more important to be just? Her heart felt like it was being pulled in two completely opposite directions. Despite hating the man with every fiber of her being, part of her thought that maybe dying was too extreme a punishment. And yet, at the same time, the hurt, embittered part of herself thought that maybe dying would be too easy, like he was getting let off the hook instead of being forced to acknowledge his wrongs and feel remorse for the horrible things he’d done.
For years, she’d dreamed about the day when Hawkmoth would be defeated and his miraculous confiscated. It was supposed to be a happy time, full of rejoicing and excitement. But she’d never considered the possibility that Hawkmoth would be defeated by an entirely different force, one that she had no say in how or when it happened. It didn’t feel fair. She hated feeling this powerless.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a brief tug at her sleeve. She looked down at Tikki, who motioned towards the bathroom with a small nod. It was then that she noticed the noise–or rather– the absence of it, which could only mean one thing: Chat Noir had finished his shower, and he’d be coming out of the bathroom any minute now.
“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Tikki whispered.
Marinette nodded. She turned to Plagg and whispered, “We’ll talk more later. I’ll call Master Fu later today and see if he has any advice.”
“M’kay. See ya,” he replied with a small wave. “Bye, Sugarcube.”
Tikki looked back and gave him a reassuring smile, then followed Marinette out the door.
Plagg hovered towards the windowsill while he waited for his charge, plopping down with a heavy sigh. He leaned against the window, taking in the many colors of the dawn sky, which looked almost too bright and vibrant for his liking. How dare the heavens look so beautiful while he felt so miserable inside? The day hadn’t even really started, and yet the only thing he wanted to do was to just crawl back into bed. He dearly hoped that the heavy, uneasy feeling in his gut would go away soon.
(A short while later)
Work at the bakery had been lively and hectic today; so much so that Chat Noir had to be reminded when his shift was over and that he needed to head to school. He gave Sabine a parting hug, the latter thanking him for his hard work and giving him some encouraging words as she helped dust the flour off his suit and hair.
Chat retrieved his cloak from a coat hanger by the door and stepped into the stairwell that led to the living quarters, so that he could retrieve his school supplies and exit through Marinette’s balcony trap door as he normally did. That was definitely one of the plus sides of working in the kitchen while transformed; he could wear his school outfit underneath and not require a change of clothes or a shower when he was through. He could merely detransform and be good as new.
As he ascended up the stairs, he heard a familiar deep voice call out to him from below. Chat froze, then turned around, trying to keep his nerves under control.
“Could I speak with you for a minute?” Tom asked.
Uh-oh.
“O-of course, Mr. Dupain,” Chat replied, trying to keep his voice even despite his nerves.
Tom’s face was mostly neutral, but his body was rigid and there was a hint of gloom in his eyes. Chat did his best not to cringe as he stood in front of the much taller man who, despite not being a superhero, looked like he could toss him clear to the Eiffel Tower if he felt like it. To prevent himself from fidgeting, Chat finally opted to stick his hands inside his pockets.
“What is it, sir? D-did I do something wrong?” he asked. “I was running a bit late, so I apologize if I didn’t put something back in the right spot. O-or did I mess up an order?? I’m sorry, I can go back and fix… whatever it is!”
“No, everything’s fine; it’s something else,” he answered, and Chat felt the stiffness in his shoulders ease a tiny bit.
However, it came back full force when Tom didn’t say anything else. Chat’s heartbeat sped up as they stood face to face in silence, unsure of the route this conversation was about to take.
What else could he be in trouble for? Did he find out Marinette had fallen asleep in his bedroom yesterday? Oh no… Did Tom think he and Marinette had… done something unseemly together last night?! Was he getting kicked out of the house?? His mind raced and his chest thumped, and he prepared himself to beg on his knees for forgiveness if need be.
A few agonizingly long and awkward seconds later, Tom spoke again, “Chat Noir… I wanted to apologize to you.”
“Oh, I see. Wait… WHAT?!?” Chat felt like someone had yanked the carpet out from underneath him. “Apologize?? What for?”
Tom lifted his arm to rub the back of his head, his entire posture taut as a bowstring. “We didn’t really get off on the right foot, you and I. You’ve been nothing but cordial and polite, and all I’ve done since you arrived is give you the cold shoulder, and for that I’m truly sorry. I wanted to clear the air and start over, if that’s okay with you.”
“Mr. Dupain! N-no, please, it’s okay!” Chat sputtered, his hands waving frantically. “I totally understand why you would have reservations about me living here, o-or even interacting with you guys at all! They’re totally justified concerns! I mean, up until a few months ago, I was still working with Hawkmoth; so the fact that you even allowed me into your home at all is incredibly kind of you! I’ve never felt any ill will towards you, I swear! You were just doing what any good father would––” he trailed off, trying to keep the melancholy out of his voice, “–would do.”
Tom winced and sighed heavily, crossing his arms. “That’s exactly my point, though. It may have been justified at first, but that was back then . I tolerated you for the sake of my wife and daughter, but I was always suspicious. I should’ve given you a chance instead of just judging you for no reason, especially after all this time. So I wanted to try to make it up to you.”
It was then that Tom brought something shiny out of his shirt pocket. It was an adorable little keychain shaped like a croissant. But wait… no, it wasn’t just a keychain, Chat realized. There was a key dangling on the end. A house key. Tom handed it over, doing his best to try to conceal a timid smile.
Chat gaped at him, reeling from what was happening. “I… I don’t know what to say. That is so generous of you! Thank you, Mr. Dupain,” he replied meekly, staring into his hands at the key. HIS key.
He felt the man’s large hand pat him on the shoulder and Chat looked up, meeting his soft, forest green eyes. “Please, call me Tom.”
Chat had to consciously fight the urge to let his jaw drop. If he wasn’t dreaming last night with Ladybug’s revelation, he was surely dreaming now. “Y-yes, sir! Uhh, Mr. Tom, sir. Uhh, I mean…” he stammered, still not recovered from having been gobsmacked out of nowhere.
The older man gave out a hearty laugh. “Just Tom. And please, if there’s anything you need, just say the word. Even if it’s just someone to lend an ear. You’ve got a good heart despite the bad hand that’s been dealt to you, and you have so much potential. We’re happy to have you in our family, even if you’re only here temporarily. Just know you’ll always have a home here with us.”
Chat’s heart swelled with affection, so full that it felt like it might burst, and his eyesight became blurry with unshed tears. He threw his arms around the giant man in front of him, someone who he never thought would fully accept him, squeezing hard.
“Thank you, Tom! Thank you so much, I’m just–” he let out a shuddering sigh then continued, voice cracking, “–thank you.”
Tom squeezed back firmly, giving him an affectionate pat. Failing to hide a sniffle, he then added, “I should let you get going, I don’t wanna make you late for school.” The pair pulled apart, and Tom ruffled Chat’s hair. “Be safe out there, kiddo.”
After saying their goodbyes, Chat bounded up the stairs, practically floating with glee. He’d missed this feeling; the feeling of being part of a family. As he emerged onto the rooftop balcony, he took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air, his heart full of excitement and hope.
He arrived at the school in high spirits and a huge grin on his face. He detransformed in a discreet location and practically skipped to the school’s entrance; then he entered the campus, carefree, joyful, and blissfully unaware of the dark eyes that followed him inside.
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raayllum · 2 years
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I was (randomly) rethinking abt your post when you said you were searching for another cartoon with good characters and great overarching plot and now I have a big question for ya.
Have you ever watched infinity train?
If you haven't, go watch it.
But like. don't look up anything about it. not even the description on internet. maybe just season 1's trailer on the CN YouTube channel.
I think you'll really like it!
If you have watched do you mind sharing your thoughts about it?
So Infinity Train had been on my list of cartoons to get to basically since it started airing in 2019 (I still remember seeing the experimental pilot adjacent piece that would hang around tumblr sometimes I wanna say around 2014-2016ish?) and I only got around to it November of this year. My partner and I basically binge watched the show together, doing anywhere from 2-6 episodes a night (greatly helped by how short the eps are, only 10 min, but mostly because of how goddamn engrossing the show is). We finished all four seasons in like just under two weeks.
So here is my official pitch to any TDP fan or any fan of animation in general to watch this amazing show because, I kid you not, it is now my third favourite cartoon of all time. Yeah.
Basic non spoilery premise: Kids get on a train when they need to figure something out in their life. Upon entering the train, they get a number on their hand; every number is different (usually). Passengers sometimes befriend denizens, sentient creatures on the train. Every train car is different; sometimes silly, sometimes a puzzle, and sometimes downright dangerous. Every season focuses on a different passenger and denizens, although there are interconnected references throughout
Slightly more in detail thoughts with very loose spoilers if someone wants to go in knowing nothing, but not enough to seriously spoil anything
Season one: best mystery factor, Atticus is best corgi boy and I almost rioted, I love one-one with my whole heart. Was not prepared for the emotional swerve in episode five but in retrospect I'm so happy it was there to not only like, be Good, but also set the stage for what's to come.
Season two. My personal favourite season feat. favourite dynamic. Jesse and MT are my exact ship type, and it felt like I was given a new form of Rayllum to love. Some of their dialogue was like, almost word for word parallels to Rayla and Callum, angry girl + soft boy who help each other mutually grow in a pseudo-canon simultaneously queerplatonic way and I ate that shit up. Their development is so sweet and perfect, both as friends and as individuals
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Also very moving exploration of the concept of personhood that again, felt vaguely similar to TDP, as well as nb allegory? Hell yeah. I cried happy tears. Alan Dracula is king, love that bitch.
Season three. The best written season of the show I think, but can I just say, from the bottom of my heart, What the fuck? The meme below was my face the entire time.
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The darkest piece of animation in tv I've ever seen, and I watched all of Transformers: Prime that had an organ harvesting plotline. It was forty minutes of uneasiness propelled forward by fascinating dysfunction and escalation of terror in a fucked up, loving, dangerously codependent relationship that is basically "No children" by the mountain goats or "Evelyn Evelyn" in a nutshell. I will think about this season every day for the rest of my life. I could literally feel myself becoming a better writer just by watching it. I can't even remember if I cried. Everything Shera was too much of a coward to do. Immaculate and hard hitting in every way. As good as it is fucked up. 10/10 antagonist-protagonists, I've never felt so much for an antagonist in my life
Season four. I love my gay Canasian musician sons. Continues Infinity Train's incredibly good exploration of messy relationships and all the way we can hurt and help each other through the muddle of good intentions. Love the Canadian rep and seeing two differing Asian experiences, as well as the lighter tone after s3. This song I literally just discovered really fits. The parallel framing device all throughout ep1 is masterful. Super sweet ending to the series. "Train to nowhere" <3
And while I am bitter and disappointed that we'll never get the 8 seasons that were planned, I am so grateful and happy we got these four. Literally changed the way I thought about animation and what the medium has been allowed to do. Will rewatch it often and book 3 whenever I'm in a place to be fucked up for a week afterwards. Seriously cannot say just how good this show is. God. It's so damn good
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uwuwriting · 4 years
Text
Deku and Kaminari meeting their future kids
Request: i’m too shy to even mention my un, but I saw the requests open so can I request deku, kaminari and your choice ;)) meeting their future kids? I just I LOVE THE SERIES SO MUCH soo please? it’s not that i’m telling u to do it but i’m suggesting..- 🍯✨
Hi....It’s been a while huh. Haha yeah I don’t know when the next uplaod will be and I’m terribly sorry for that. I finally got some peace and quite so here we are. I hope you enjoy. Love ya. 💖💖💖
masterlist 
rules 
warnings: Izuku fainting......fluff and crack on Kamis’ part
Midoriya Izuku 
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-So this will be fun. 
-He was on his way to your dorm on a late Friday night. 
-His training session had been brutal and he was beyond exhausted, the only thing on his mind being your weekly sleepover. 
-So he was just semi crawling to your room when he felt a small tug on his sleeve. 
-And there in front of him was a little boy, green strands caging his h/c eyes. 
-The trembling was evident and the pure terror on the little boys’ eyes was enough for Izuku to know that teh child was lost. 
- “E-e-excuse m-me. C-c-could you t-t-take me t-to m-my parents a-agency?”
-The boy reminded him of himself in his age. 
-Okay apart from the green hair and freckles that had a weird resemblance to him, the boys’ behavior was similar to his around the time when Katsuki started bullying him. 
-Izuku crouched down and placed a reassuring hand on the boys’ head trying to comfort him. 
- “Sure thing kiddo, what’s their agencys’ name?”
-A look of mild recognision flashed through the boys’ features befor he shook his head and answered. 
- “It’s in downtown Tokyo, the ‘Deku, H/N’ agency.”
-At that he kinda um got nauseous because this right here would be like the third? fourth? instance of a child landing in their dorms AND turning out to be from the future. 
-Could this boy be form the future? And he did say that he wanted to go to his parents’ agency. Did his parents work for him or was this child his? And he did say H/N that was your name. Was he yalls son? He ended up marrying you and having a child with you?
-Everything was spinning in 100 miles per hour.
-He completely forgot about the terrified child in front of him which was watching him get all bleary eyed. 
-For some weird reason he let out that he’s Deku and the boy lit up. 
- “That’s why you look like daddy!”
-Thank god the boy was shy because he didn’t say that too loudly but it was enough for Izuku to lose his marbles and faint on the spot. 
-Last thing he rememebrs was you rounding the corner and running towards them. 
 -Next thing he sees is your dorms’ star filed cieling. 
-He propped himself up on his elbows and looked around finding you along with the little boy sleeping on his side. 
-The boy was clinging to your chest, nuzzling into your neck as you had a hand drapped over him protectively.
-You were gripping Izukus’ hand with your free one.
-This was a happy scene. 
-He liked it. 
-He decided that the three of you could sort this mess up in the morning. 
-For now he would curl up around the both of you and go to sleep. 
-He couldn’t wait to do that everyday. 
Kaminari Denki 
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-He’s dumb. 
-Like really really dumb. 
-When a child fell into his arms in the forest during a training session with Shinsou he acted like this was normal. 
- “I didn’t know this was part of your quirk Shinsou-kun.” 
-For a moment Shinsou was worried that he had ran into a villain and because he has the brain cells of a peanut he thought that they were part of his quirk, he went out of hiding and found him. 
-Now Shinsou has been in the situation before. 
-A child in his arms that looks like him? 
-Yeah he has been through it. 
-It happened a couple of months ago and he hasn’t spoken about it with anyone apart with his s/o. 
-Now he knows that Kaminari is an idiot he just hoped that he wouldn’t be that much of an idiot. 
-So when he saw the blonde girl in Kami’s arms he just did a 180 and straight up left. 
-Okay now they were both just staring at each other like that one spiderman meme because let me tell you that the resemblance between these two was uncanny. 
-Like where were you? 
-Where was your contribution in this child. 
-I think apart from carrying her for 9 months and giving birth, that’s the only credit you’ll get. 
-So after an awkward exchange of smiles, Kaminari introduced himself making the girl freeze look at him in pure horror and let out a high pitch scream, high enough to pierce his eardrums. 
- “WhAT wAs ThAt FoR?”
- “WhY Do yOU hAVe mY dAdS’ nAme?”
-That is one way to give Kaminari a heart attack. 
-I’ll give him credit where its due he did NOT faint like Izuku did but he did let out a very VERY confused ?Eh?.
-Now its a staring contest between the two confused Pikachus.
-How they got to AIzawas’ room is a big question mark. 
-If he’s being honest AIzawa is tired of little kids appearing in his class. 
-Like he has one to take care at home he doesn’t need more. 
-He sent Kaminari to Recovery girl and told him to describe to her what happened and hopefully she would know what to do. 
-The thing is that he ran into you on his way to recovery girl. 
-Like literally ran into you. 
-Now its the three of you having a staring contest. 
-Do yall know that one vine where the kid goes up to a lady and is liek ‘dAddY?’ *....Do I lOoK LiKe DaDDy?!?!?!*
-Yeah that’s what happened here but instead of daddy it was mommy because well at least she got your smarts. 
-You are the Izuku in this story lmao. 
-They had to take you to RG and revive you. 
-Shinsou and his S/O are in the corner crying of laughter. 
TAG TEAM AY:
@iwaqchan​ @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @dnarez-mangetsu​ @bemorefiction​ @reinyrei​
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initiala · 2 years
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wip meme: i mean, selfishly, "the artists formerly known as," but i also am intrigued by "contact au" and "part 2," if you'd rather.
oh, our gloriously indulgent band AU, full of 80s music references, texting each other sad songs and how they fit certain scenes, Instagram pregnancy announcements with cheesy shirts, and Robin literally playing the drums on oversized pickle barrels
It starts as a joke.
College is a time for many things: drunken antics, all-nighters, testing boundaries, taking classes from instructors you’re sure aren’t qualified to teach the subjects they’re teaching. But college is also a time for finding yourself, finding your place in the world, and, sometimes, finding the pieces you never realized were missing from your life.
Actually, it doesn’t start as a joke. It starts on a rainy Saturday when David Nolan, bored of video games (and his usual opponents, his foster siblings Emma and Henry, called away for dinner back home), wanders down to the first floor of his residence hall to see if anyone is as bored as he is. He’s not hungry, having eaten a late lunch after waking up late from staying up too late the night before, so he’s not tempted to wander to the dining hall just yet; but it doesn’t look like there’s anyone else in his predicament, as the res hall lobby is empty save for the desk workers. Discouraged, David turns to wander back up to the room, but someone starts playing a piano.
It starts when David ambles over to the practice rooms out of boredom more than curiosity about who is playing “Piano Man” on a rainy Saturday in September. It starts when David Nolan meets Killian Jones.
*~*
Or maybe it starts when they meet Robin a few weeks later. It’s October now and David and Killian meet up between classes to hang out and complain about their respective midterm projects, drinking coffees that they didn’t order with pumpkin spice but they swear the vestiges of the seasonal flavor linger in the cups. The leaves are falling and the air is turning crisp; David spots the girl who lives on the floor below his, the one with the short black hair and the smile that makes him forget his name, and she’s laughing with one of her friends as they hurry across the oval. Killian punches him in the arm and calls him a lovestruck idiot. Well, he thinks he does anyway -- whatever the British equivalent is.
David doesn’t have time to retort, though, because someone starts banging away on what sounds like a trash can, but when they turn to look it’s just a guy jamming away on some plastic buckets. Killian starts to egg him on, and the guy grins over his thick scarf, flipping one of his sticks and showing off.
And that’s how they meet Robin Locksley.
The Contact AU was going to be the second part of this. However, I got really stuck on which way I wanted to go--I've read Carl Sagan's book almost as many times as I've watched the movie version and I love each iteration's trip through the Machine. In the book, five people get chosen to travel in the Machine. In the movie, only one person -- Ellie -- is able to go. The book shows each person interacting with an alien (the "Vegans" since the Message came from the star system Vega) that takes on the form of someone important in their lives. The movie keeps this, with Ellie getting to talk to "her father" again, but you can see where I might struggle hard in "oh Killian could talk to "Liam" again" and debating if David or Snow would show up for Emma.
Of course, I also had to consider the possibility of showing the Machine firing up scene from Killian's POV. The scene in the movie gets me every time, everyone unsure if the whole thing is about to blow, if it's working as intended, if Ellie's still alive, Palmer Joss' quiet terror at potentially watching this woman he might love die in front of him... and then the quiet, static "okay to go... I'm okay---okay to go" coming over the speakers.
SUE ME I LOVE ANGST, writing that from Killian's POV would be delicious. And then there's the whole "the whole thing happened in a second and no one knew it worked but Ellie.... and Palmer's the only one who really believes her". THAT IS CAPTAIN SWAN RIGHT THERE
Meanwhile, "part 2" was going to be a follow-up to a wedding fic I wrote about the garter toss, but tbh I never really got anywhere with it. I was really just more inspired by the idea of Killian absolutely taking advantage of the situation of the garter toss, and less so by the wedding night
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