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headspace-hotel · 1 year

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so many of us haven't seen it

we don't encounter it, we can't imagine it, we can't get out of the tomb of apathy because we haven't seen the wonders just beyond their line of sight

I talk about this all the time, but it's because I think about it all the time

There are likely thousands of plants native to the area you live in, and chances are you have never even seen most of them, in your entire life.

Not even rare orchids that only bloom at midnight on a blood moon or some shit—regular flowers. Weeds. They have been systematically eliminated from every single place you ever set foot in, and you have to have a special hobby or line of work to ever even rest your eyes upon the flowers that used to bloom for no one on every hill, or in every valley, or beside every stream

There are a few hundred birds that live where I live. I have never seen most of them before. I have never seen a Kentucky Warbler, and I have lived in Kentucky for what...twenty years?

I have never seen a rosy maple moth. When I saw one on the internet, I didn't even think it was real.

I've become a deeply weird person over the past couple years. Tasting even a little bit of the Wonders changes you. I wouldn't have thought blue bees were real, or the fantastically rainbow-colored dogbane beetles.

I have seen the world beyond the wasteland, and that glimpse makes you crazy.

You or I may have never seen a truly mature tree. A fraction of a percent of the old growth forest of the Eastern USA remains. Once there were tulip poplars over 6 feet in diameter and sycamores well over 10 feet in diameter. Only a few remain, in secret locations. Imagine walking through a forest where the tree trunks are over 3-4 feet wide.

The forest where I work is 100 years old. That's a baby forest.

Knowing that, being aware of that, it's maddening.

Central Kentucky has disproportionately few endemic plants. Almost none. Central Kentucky was the first area west of the Appalachians settled by European colonizers. The Bluegrass was once described as having the most peculiar plant life anywhere in the East, but now, there are no species known that are unique to that area.

Colonization destroyed the canebrakes. (Did you know that we had vast forests of bamboo full of carnivorous plants?) The bamboo is barely hanging on. It destroyed the sycamores so enormous you could use the hollow center of one as a stable for animals. It introduced invasive grasses to feed cattle and horses. It destroyed the rich lush topsoil. Most of the ancient oaks were cut down or died when housing developments were built on top of their roots.

What happened to the endemic species, never recorded in books of herbs, never sketched by a European naturalist.

Either gone forever...or hiding in a sinkhole on a backroad somewhere, not even yet discovered.

So much has been lost for eternity. So much still could be lost.

Some days it's hard not to wail and scream. There are herbicides in your drinking water. When you spread honey on toast, you likely also spread neonicotinoid pesticides, which testing has confirmed to be present in something like 45% of honey. In many areas, insects are immersed in the presence of chemicals designed to kill them in every drop of water, every leaf, every square inch of soil.

When games, animations, and illustrations envision the outdoors, they cover the ground with a short, uniform carpet of green, because that is what we see, no matter where we go: turfgrass cut by a lawn mower. Where I live, there are no natural environments that resemble this, remotely. The closest thing we have to turf-forming grass is our wealth of native sedges, most of which are rare or endangered.

I talked to a man who had devoted his life to studying the American bamboo, Arundinaria gigantea, and he had never seen a canebrake larger than 200x500 feet. Canebrakes once covered ten million acres, and now the bamboo exists in short, straggly clumps instead of dense bamboo forests up to 40 feet tall.

I want to cry and scream. The grief will tear me to pieces. I live in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, surrounded by people who can't even grieve, because they have been so completely severed from everything that was lost that they don't even know it was real.

It hurts. It hurts, and we have to live with it. It hurts, and the grief is all-consuming.

There is the agony, and there are the Wonders. Both are true at the same time. It is because nothing around us is standing still; everything in nature is always moving, iterating, becoming. Something is pulling and nudging at our species, urging us to move, to iterate, to become.

So much has been lost. Even more is not lost.

The trees, the bamboo, the sedges, the Kentucky warblers and rosy maple moths.

They are not lost. We are lost.

This is the hard part. The grief is hard, but this is somehow harder for us. We are lost, and it is time to come home.

Not to a physical place, but to a way of living: interconnected, mutualistic, interdependent. Symbiosis. In the forest, no one is separate from anyone else, everyone is linked and dependent on the community. Trees help each other, they support each other, they protect and shelter and feed one another and all living things, and together they are a forest. I don't really consider myself religious, but I have to reserve something in my head for how it felt to realize what Forest was.

When I noticed the little plants popping up in the sidewalk cracks and gravel paths, the tough weeds holding on in the lawns and pavement, something in my brain began to change dramatically and permanently.

They're still here. The trees. Even in the pavement and lawns. The dandelions have come, adapting rapidly, helping the bees hold on. The wildflower seeds are still sprouting in this depleted ground. Waiting for us to recognize them. Life is everywhere. The Forest is everywhere. It felt like they were waiting. We're here. We have not abandoned you. We are resilience, persistence, survival, adaptation. This is not death. This is Chaos. Come home. Come home. Come home.

I saved little plants from the roadside and tended them in plastic cups. I didn't think it would work. I don't know why I tried. I was acting as something bigger than only myself, responding to a call that moves throughout all of nature. But they survived, and growing and tending to my little plants and trees, I—understood.

I don't know if I believe in God, but I believe in Something, whatever it was that seemed to whisper like a secret: Welcome home, Caretaker.

And honestly, truth shone through then from relics of religion I hadn't touched in ages; God put Adam in a garden, not a suburb, a mall, or a Walmart. This is who you are. Not a Consumer, but a Caretaker.

And when the threat of the Flood loomed, God told Noah to start building a fucking boat.

In ecology, the plants we know as "weeds" are pioneer species: the first species to return to an area after a natural disaster or mass extinction. They survive in the harshest conditions, and prepare the land for regeneration. This is who you must become.

Look to the Dandelion—in just a few hundred years on this continent, Dandelion has risen to the highest calling of a Weed: first survive where the others can't, and then help the others survive. If the human species is to survive, you must be a weed species. You must adapt relentlessly, resist eradication, and protect and nurture other life forms by your very nature. You must be tough as nails, and make the world a gentler place through your survival.

Have you heard the saying that grief is love with no place to go?

That's the hard part.

We must grieve, but it is not yet time to grieve. It is time to love.

#plants #native plant gardening #weeds #we are a weed species #gardening #wonders of the world #nature

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hells-wasabii · 3 months

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Headcanons for Charlie, Lucifer, Lute, and Alastor with a m!reader who’s the Demi-god son of Zeus?

I would imagine that deities from other myths and cultures do exist in hazbin hotel/helluva boss but don’t really have much power like they did in ancient times, likely mainly due to when christianity started to grow larger pagans ended up being persecuted and killed if they did convert. And it would effect them to the point where either deities chose to live among mortals (like how deities do in American Gods), simply join Heaven and became powerful angels, or tried to fight heaven only to get killed and end up in hell and possibly be more powerful than overlords.

Y/n doesn’t really have a good father-son bond with Zeus, given how much of a terrible father and wife he is in the greek myths.

And with y/n being a son of zeus he also inherited some of his abilities (lightning, strength, etc.)

A/N: I really hope this one is formatted properly, I had to post this one from mobile. But I didn’t write as many headcanons as I normally would due to the number of characters in the ask. From this point on my max character amount will be 3 per ask. But in any case, I hope you enjoy what I got!

Characters: Lute, Lucifer, Charlie, Alastor

Type: Headcanons (x son of Zeus!reader, General)

Lute

When Lute first met you, she immediately saw an opportunity. She practically begged you to join the exorcists! She did admittedly get scolded by Adam for letting the exterminations and exorcists slip, but after that she went about trying to recruit you to their cause properly.

The greek gods wandered freely and let their powers go to waste, but you, you could do something with your powers! Sure, they may not be nearly as strong as your father’s but you’re powerful nonetheless. Which on top of that, there weren’t all that many demigods in heaven anyway, which made you all the more

So she goes out of her way to try to recruit you. She had met your father in passing, sure, but she didn’t particularly care for or about him. He was complicit, doing nothing when it came to the sinners, so frankly he was none of her concern.You on the otherhand were a well of untapped potential!

She would personally make you her project. Your uniform would be altered, an indication for other exorcists not to get to close on the battle field, after all electricity is hard to control especially surrounded by metal objects such as armor pieces or weapons.

Lucifer

Lucifer was initially confused to see you in hell. The other pantheons had their own afterlives, you knew that, right? You were a demigod, you were practically guaranteed a spot in elysium, especially with one of the old Olympians as a parent. Oh, you didn’t want anything to do with that sort of stuff? That’s fair he supposed.

When he finds out about your lack of a relationship with your dad, he initially would want to help fix it. He doesn’t have the best relationship with Charlie, something that the king of hell deeply regrets. He knows how much it can hurt.

That is until he finds out your dad is Zeus. Then he fully understands. See, he never really liked Zeus all that much, between how he he had the habit of acting childish and how he constantly cheated on his literal wife, (which that was a whole different can of worms that Lucifer was not about to open)

Charlie

Being the princess of hell, she wouldn’t exactly have any room to talk when it came to your lineage. But you were the son of Zeus, that basically made you royalty, right? Regardless, she’d still refer to you as such, even if your human blood prevented you from being heir to a now nonexistent throne.

Much like her father, your strained relationship with your own dad tugged at charlie’s heartstrings. She will actively want to help you reconnect with him.

She might initially be a little pushy about it, considering her views on forgiveness and redemption, but she would want you to try to better your relationship with your dad. She herself doesn’t have the best one with her own, but they had been working on improving it. She wants that opportunity for you too.

If that’s something you would want at least. As much as Charlie would love for you to have a better father-son relationship, if that’s something you’re uninterested in she’ll respect your decisions and help better set boundaries with the God, because lets face it. Zeus wouldn’t exactly heed any you might set on your own.

Alastor

Well, i think we all know how he would react. You were powerful, more powerful than a normal soul and he knew it. He could feel it. Sometimes, when you got too excited or let your emotions get the better of you he could feel the charge of electricity

He, in terms of sinners, is likely to be the most open to the idea of other pantheons existing, he dabbled in the dark arts after all.

He knew early on that he could use you to his advantage, and if he could do so by simply saying something along the lines of your father wouldn’t approve, that’s even better. However, if you were harder to get into a deal or to form some sort of alliance, then that meant you would need to be dealt with or steered clear from.

After all, radios and an abundance of electricity don’t exactly mix well.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin headcanons #hazbin imagine #alastor x reader #lucifer x reader #lute x reader #charlie x reader #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #alastor headcanons #hazbin lute

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rqnvindr · 7 months

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fountain of tears

pairing: neuvilette x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff/comfort

word count: 1.8k

synopsis: neuvilette finds you standing by the fountain, alone the rain after an argument. his hidden turmoil can only be solved by hearing your voice again, tender, and unfiltered.

warnings: archon quest spoilers, arguments

a/n: I HAVEN'T POSTED ANY WRITING IN AGES BUT I HAD TO WRITE SOMETHING FOR MY OTTER HUBBY! enjoy!!

"this is pointless. i'm out."

your words wound neuvilette, the pain shooting deep into his bones. they ring over and over again in his conscious, louder than any vibration that had ever emanated from his cane to resume order during a trial. he sits in his office trying to work, but his thoughts don't subside, not one bit.

he ponders, staring at the stacks of papers in front of him, documents regarding cases that needed to be reviewed in due time. but not today. the amount of time he had in between today's working hours and the next trial reassured him that he could hyper-fixate on the last thing you said to him before storming out the door.

it's strange that he isn't worried for your safety as much as he is over the feelings rooted in your actions. the chief justice knows that humans are more fragile than those who have lived for eons. those who have experienced centuries of change were capable of adapting to different and unexpected circumstances through changing forms, and bestowing ancient powers of the past that contained the wisdoms and strength needed to guide them. he should be more concerned for where you could've possibly have gone within the last day. but he knows that you are also acquainted with a certain traveler that had recently arrived in fontaine and caused an uproar with the hydro archon in court already, everyone was. there's no way they could've left now, taking you with them on their travels. they still had unanswered questions left for lady furina. it is still a possibility though that you're at least staying with them, since you two were in good graces.

you weren't from fontaine though, and the image of you packing your bags and going home by yourself made him shiver. you did say you were heading "out" after all. he had to consider all of the possibilities.

neuvilette was new to human relationships. how long did it take for humans to draw the line? it varies for everyone, since they are given the freedom to dictate their personal connections to others to a certain degree. but how much was too much for you? when it came to you, he not only wanted to understand humans more, but also just you. he wanted to delve into all of your laughter, all of your worries, all of the sighs that escaped your pretty lips. to grasp it and memorize it all, was his greatest desire.

without you, he would basically lose his purpose for inserting himself into the realm of mortality. you already got him this far, and on top of that, he concluded that you were causing him to feel foreign emotions from removing yourself from his sight. even if it hurt, this was a test included in his journey that he had to endure.

but neuvilette does not want to face the predicament without a resolution. instead of wallowing, he decides to leave his office. he was already working overtime anyway, hoping to just drown in reading the same pages over and over again to keep himself grounded. was he always this sensitive? in his mind, he imagined the beings of the past looking down on him.

it's pouring rain when neuvilette steps outside. ah right. he doesn't need another reminder that his sorrows inconvenience the ordinary citizens of fontaine, who are just trying to make it to work on time, rush their loved ones to the doctor, and just go about their lives without the weather impeding on them. people barely carry umbrellas though, they're all accustomed to this and it's too unpredictable (at least for them it is).

he decides to start backwards, far away from the court of fontaine. he heads to the opera house first, and he finds you on the first try. how could he ever mistake you for someone else? you're the only person he has eyes for. especially when you're standing by the fountain of lucine, and carrying a distinct umbrella in a small crowd of people, most of whom appear to be flocked around the opera house's entrance, probably catching magic shows and other performances.

neuvilette is uneasy when he notices how close you're standing to the fountain. you're inevitably drawn to the grand structure that welcomes audiences from within the borders of the land and beyond to the renowned location. the spectacle that delivers the arts and the law all the same. but beneath its beauty lies danger that erases those who get too close. many fontainians had lost their lives from seeking the wonders of what lay beneath the waters that decorate and surround the hydro region itself. by wanting to delve deeper into it, they subsequently drowned, their lifeforce dissipating into the shackles of the streams. both the knowns and the unknowns of the primordial sea were sufficient reasons to express caution towards the lands waters, even if one was not a native who was subject to becoming one with their origins.

if you were to become the next victim, the rain would proceed to crash down and become one with the fountain in a continuous flow of precipitation. and then fontaine would be known as "the land of storms" rather than "the land of justice".

as he approaches the fountain, neuvilette's desire to pull you away and drag you back to him with no hesitation stirs. yet, it immediately dissipates when you turn your head, and give him what he guesses is a contemplative look. the white-haired man chooses his words carefully. giving you a lecture about the rumored dangers of the fountain's ability to dissolve human beings would only alarm you. he should use the rain as an excuse to find somewhere safer, if you still weren't ready to return to your shared residence.

"it-"

"i know. you're going to ask why i'm standing out here as if it isn't pouring rain." neuvilette barely gets a syllable out before you take the words right out of his mouth. you guys always had a habit of finishing each other's sentences, and even in a moment as anxiety-inducing as trying to make amends when you were mad at him, his heart melts. goodness, why did you have to be so lovely?

"if i were to let the rain impede everything, i guess i'd be a shut-in." you shrug. "it's been raining non-stop for the past couple of days. and no one seems to question it, so i just go along with it as if it's completely normal for it to be bright and sunny one day, and then cloudy and rainy the next day."

when you finish your thoughts, neuvilette still waits for you to continue. he was somewhat relieved that you were able to talk to him normally, but knew that there had to be more you had to say. were you going to officially end things between you two? say that you needed more time to think about the state of your relationship? he wasn't going to talk you out of anything, or start a debate. he respected your decision no matter what, even if it were to sting, he had to hear it. and the conversation had to go somewhere if he also wanted to deliver his side as well.

"i have heard some of the locals say though, that whenever it rains in fontaine, it is because the hydro dragon is crying." you say, as you gaze up at the sky. "i don't know if you have ever heard of it, but if such a tale were to be true, then i wonder what he could be going through for it to be pouring rain every other day."

neuvilette hopes he hid how quickly he blinked. normally he was good at hiding his reactions to hearing this "legend". although he never wanted to hide anything from you, the truth behind the mysterious precipitation was something he hadn't had the best opportunity to tell you about.

"yes, this is an old legend indeed. i often hear parents and caretakers telling this to children, whenever it's too wet to play outside." this was as much as the chief justice could water it down. he really did not want to lie before approaching a sensitive topic.

"as much as i would love to continue hearing the knowledge you have extracted from your time here, i have come here with another objective." neuvilette says. "i wanted to apologize for upsetting you. i have also been worried about you for the past few days. you do not have to disclose your whereabouts from the period in which we were apart, but i am happy that you're safe."

"it's alright, really." you reply calmly. "i was also in the wrong for storming out like that and not communicating with you. i was pretty upset, yeah, but i should've just told you that. i'm sorry for being immature and leaving you in the dark."

neuvilette notices tears streaming down your eyes. as your head tilts downward, they drop to the ground and blend in with the rain droplets. instead of offering you his handkerchief, he gently caresses both sides of your face with his gloved hands. you lean into his touch more, until you're wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace, letting your umbrella drop to the ground. he reciprocates, stiffly at first, but then holds you with no intentions of letting you go.

you're no longer choking back sobs, and then the sky clears up as the rain comes to a stop. you pull away from the hug to observe the sky, staying connected with your hands intertwined this time.

"wow...the hydro dragon must have been distraught watching us as if we were his new favorite play or something." you laugh.

neuvilette chuckles, knowing that you would of course find the occurrence to be a mere coincidence. "it seems that he must be quite fond of you, my dear."

"well, i'm already taken so i guess he will have to stick to me being his favorite character." you shrug obliviously with a smile.

as your lover, neuvilette has adjusted to being more vulnerable with you. you had seen the good and the bad sides of him, the latter especially during the latest argument that the two of you had now cleared up. and even then, you still let him back in. he doesn't have to worry about baring his entire soul to you now, and will slowly navigate you through his past and identity as the hydro dragon, who entered human society as the iudex. the vulnerable figure whose emotions affect the weather, and struggles to connect with others. you're the one worthy of knowing the truth though, and he makes a promise to himself to never hide anything from you from here on out.

#genshin impact #genshin spoilers #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fluff #neuvilette #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette fluff #neuvilette imagines #neuvilette genshin #neuvilette fics #neuvilette angst

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obimaulartfire · 9 months

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Do you ever just...wake up and think about how Obi-wan was, for most of his life, Maul's reason to live?

Let me explain, and this is one of the main reasons I was drawn to ObiMaul in the first place. (long ramble below)

We're all aware of the events at the reactor fight, and it'd be an understatement to say it was a very hostile first encounter. But it's in the aftermath where the dynamic gets interesting.

Maul survived on his own, for years, with only his top half. As a former biology major, sometimes I think about how possible this would be in real life, if at all. It would be insanely uncomfortable at best, and impossible at worst. But through the excruciating pain, Maul survived, fueled purely by his intense hatred/obsession with Kenobi (and some star wars darkside magic, I'm sure).

Maul says this himself when first meeting Obi-wan again in season 4 of The Clone Wars:

"You would never imagine the depths I'd go to to stay alive, fueled by my singular hatred...for you."

Imagine being on the brink of death, with half of your circulatory system GONE, your heart beating irregularly, and your "lower half" being in constant pain, but still finding something to live for, and living...for YEARS. That's impressive. Hate-filled or not, it's hard to deny that for that time, thoughts of Obi-wan literally kept Maul alive for a decade.

Maul comes back to the series having been left for dead by Sidious, with spider legs he made himself, and no sense of time and a destroyed sense of sanity. Yet, he lives.

And additionally, revenge on Sidious is only second in his thoughts to his revenge on Obi-wan, even though Sidious is technically the one who left him for dead. Since Maul can't sit still, he did many other things during the Clone Wars in accordance with his own ambitions, likely to attempt to reclaim that part of his life that had been lost to Lotho Minor, but that's a tangent for another post.

He gets revenge on Obi-wan (I guess) by killing Satine, but even that isn't enough for him, as evidenced by the Satine hate shrine that we see in Rebels, when Ezra visits Maul's cave on Dathomir:

(on a side note, there is no sane heterosexual explanation for this^, I'm sorry/j)

Why would you keep a memento of someone you've killed? Why would you cross out their eyes? Maul didn't hate Satine that much, and it's my opinion that he did this because she was important to Obi-wan.

And that brings me to my next point: Rebels Maul

Y'all.... there's a reason the title of my blog is "Twin Suns Changed My Brain Chemistry", because I vaguely had feelings about these two in Clone Wars, but Rebels really cemented this dynamic for me.

I cannot emphasize enough that in Rebels, Maul thinks Obi-wan Kenobi is dead. Whether he got killed in Order 66 or when Vader and the Inquisitors started purging Force Users, there was maybe a .000001% chance that any Jedi, especially Obi-wan, would have survived that. And yet. When we enter Rebels, we find Maul on Malachor, stuck on the planet looking for the Sith holocron.

WHY is he trying to find the Sith holocron? In Maul's own words:

"As for me, I...seek something much simpler, yet equally elusive... Hope."

Hope? That surely isn't a Sith ideal. It's revealed later that the only reason Maul wants to combine these ancient artifacts is to learn whether or not Obi-wan Kenobi is alive. I shit you not.

This implies that Maul has had Hope that Obi-wan has been alive for what... 15 years? That's a long time. At this point, Maul may be like, 49 or 50. He has been fixated on Obi-wan for 30 years of his life. Thoughts of Obi-wan kept him going and going and going for 3/5ths of his life. Even when he thinks Obi-wan has died, he spends 15 years trying to find him, just hoping that he is alive. But for what?

It's unclear to me what Maul, in canon, really desires from Obi-wan. But one thing for sure is that Obi-wan acts as a...source of emotions for Maul. A source of feelings, and a reason to keep going through times that other characters would give up.

Other characters may have survived, but Maul lived because of Obi-wan. Through being bisected, the Clone Wars, being chased by Vader and the Inquisitors, and through periods of despair.

And before the end, he just wants to find his reason to live again, and dies in his arms.

#obimaul #obi wan x maul #i've been writing this for hours #i just have a lot of feelings #star wars headcanons #long post #sw rebels #swtcw #darth maul #obiwan kenobi #i'm so afraid to put my thoughts out there but tumblr is the perfect platform for that so #one day i really hope to capture the raw emotion in this duo bc i crave it and there's not a lot of content out there like that #thank you for coming to my ted talk

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shady-tavern · 5 months

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A little poll to help me decide

Just so you know, I will still write both, but you guys get to decide which one gets to be finished and published first!

Little WIP excerpts for both stories under the cut (subject to change, these are still rough outlines, so be aware that the final product might look different):

Fantasy Story (currently only titled "nyeh!"):

You had once heard that being cursed was the worst thing in the world. To be twisted into something else, to no longer be capable, to lose your youthful beauty, your voice or whatever else you valued. To be forced to hide in the dark and stare longingly at people going on about their day.

How happiness was leeched away, food tasting lackluster and smells itching in your nose and nothing felt right anymore. Like looking through cracked glasses.

But curses weren't anything you had to content yourself with. They were about as important to your life as distant kingdoms and great battles with heroes slaying equally great foes, of dragons nesting on top of mountains and fae princes stealing away mortal women to make their queens.

That hadn't always been the case for your family, however. Your ancestors had been great mages and adventurers, people with big names and bigger legacies. People who had awed and charmed and impressed the populous to the point where they were still spoken about, their portraits found in history books.

There was even a portrait of one of your great-great-grandma's in the local library, painted by someone with magical powers, for it looked like she was going to leap straight out of the painting on her horse.

She was a gorgeous woman with a kind face and a brave set to her shoulders and she had protected the entire barony you lived in against an ancient evil. She had been the first to make a name for herself and all her children followed in her footsteps.

Well, until your grandparents and their children. Every time you walked past her portrait on your way to class, you wondered if she was disappointed. If she had known that the greatness in her bloodline would run dry like a river.

Your parents certainly thought so, the bitterness and fear over being mundane well instilled into them by their already magic-less grandparents. Family gatherings were a tense and somber occasion and you hated them. Every time you were asked if your magic had shown already. If you were, finally, at long last, the one to break the streak of misfortune.

As though they could claw their way up to greatness through you. Even at a young age, you realized you didn't want that. Their expectations felt like boulders being strapped to your person and then being told to go climb a mountain.

Looking at the painting, at the regal woman portrayed who had saved so many and had been humble all her life, using her skills to better those around her, you decided that she would not have been disappointed in you.

Sometimes you imagined her voice when you sat curled up at your desk, eyes heavy from studying and your parents voices echoing in your head, telling you to look at more magic tomes. As though they could will magic into your veins by tossing as much spell theory at you as possible.

You imagined that your great-great-grandma would gently pat your head and tell you that it was alright. You had done well and should go to sleep, she'd take care of things. You imagined her saying all the things history books had written down and that bards sang about even to this day.

How she would cradle the week, encourage the cowardly and shelter the injured.

Your other ancestors were just as impressive, but...she was always seemed more present than they did. It was probably because of the painting, though. You knew your family's history well enough, you had studied everything trice over.

Sometimes it frustrated and hurt you, that your parents and grandparents couldn't just be happy. They had more money than they could ever need, the people still spoke highly of your family and they were welcomed warmly. Your uncle was even advising the king despite having as much magic as a dresser drawer.

"I'll leave when I'm old enough," you told the portrait in a whisper. "I'll go somewhere no one knows me and I'll be happy."

If a painting could look encouraging, this one did. Or, so you imagined.

*.*.*

Hero/Villain Story (currently titled "Heart Song"):

The world was full of music and to you, that was beautiful. Everyone you met was surrounded by a melody, some louder and some quieter, some sad and some joyful, some struggling and changing tunes as they tried to find themselves and others marching forward, no matter the mismatched tones and half-broken sounding lyrics.

It had been a struggle, growing up, to not get lost in the music constantly. Your parents hadn't understood what was going on, dragging you to doctors and trying out different medication, until you had been old enough to find the words, the proper explanation, to tell them how you saw the world.

A gifted child, your lot were called. People born with abilities that showed as early as when they were infants or sometime late in their adulthood. But the powers always revealed themselves and very, very rarely were not put to use.

You had found yourself responding to melodies that had wanted to be heard and seen and recognized even before you understood what they were, singing back at them clumsily until they had lost a hurt edge, until they had found meaning, until the song surrounding a person's heart rang like clear bells with the sounds of hope-relief-healing.

Becoming a hero had, in a way, been the only sensible conclusion. You wanted to help and you could help, so why wouldn't you? Why wouldn't you help sand down rough edges, help people over a bump in their road, help someone hurting to find the strength to reach out?

Your parents had thankfully been the sensible ones and had cautioned you against accepting just any hero gig, any contract that was extended to you. You had been so excited you had nearly accepted the first offer without question.

But...hero contracts, as you had quickly learned, were rather intense. There was so much red tape surrounding everything and your parents really hadn't liked some of the wording of some of the passages and with great reluctance and perhaps a couple of tears, you had tossed the offers for a job into the trash.

Right up until Redemption & Recovery had reached out to you. They had been a comparatively tiny organization back then, doing their best to help others with the funding they got. Almost all members were volunteers and they offer they extended had, admittedly, looked pitiful compared to the promised salary of the big hero offices.

But their offer had been just what you had looked for. Next to no red tape and your values and their aligned. The moment your parents gave their tentative green light you had called them straight away, telling them you wanted to work with them.

In the years that had followed, you had made quite the name for yourself and the organization, which had grown in members and funding until it was one of the biggest. You were so proud of everyone and their hard work.

While you had become the face of R&R, fighting and going to interviews and fan meetings and doing your best to be present online, everyone else had been hard at work behind the scenes. Networking and outlining and signing contracts and keeping the unyielding desire to make the world better alive, no matter how big the organization got.

Redemption & Recovery focused heavily on not only offering recovering villains all the tools to keep healing and improving, but they also offered services to the public to help people stay away from the villain business in the first place.

You still didn't have much of a salary compared to other famous heroes, but that worked just fine for you. You rather donated as much as you could feasibly give to R&R, to help finance the services they offered, the therapists and doctors they had on the payroll, as well as housing aid and financial advisors to help people get back on their feet.

You still received offers from the big offices, who hoped to poach you from R&R and the latest offer had you choking on your breakfast when you had seen the salary and other perks they had offered. It had still gone into the trash, because the red-tape situation had been as bad as ever.

Besides, you were perhaps a bit...unique, among the heroes. The big offices would probably find working with you rather headache inducing.

You raced around a corner, heart in your throat at the sound of hurt-terror-helplessness that filled the air ahead of you as thickly as the dust and smoke that had yet to settle. You leapt over rubble and debris, your breath catching when you heard another bit of building crumble somewhere to the left.

And among the injured civilians, the panicked people, one melody rang louder than the others. Loud enough to drench everything in agony-hatred-despair like a wailing siren.

You had heard bits and pieces of this particular melody in the past and you knew exactly who it belonged to. Eclipse, a high-level villain known for laying waste to entire city blocks whenever he appeared.

He was one of the villains who broke heroes left and right if they weren't strong enough to stand up to him and who had endangered many a civilian carelessly. No death count yet, but he was getting closer and closer to it every time he appeared.

Official sources weren't sure if he even had full control of his powers, considering the often haphazard destruction and his at times visible frustration. Whatever was going on, however, everyone agreed that he needed to be stopped before he ended up killing, no matter if it was intentional or not.

Eclipse's focused face turned into a mask of fear the moment he noticed you from the corner of his eye, head snapping around to stare at you.

#my writing #pol #wip #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #fantasy #stories #you're welcome to vote or not #just thought it might be fun to give you guys the option

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rayshippouuchiha · 2 years

Note

... Chisaki Kai unironically pays for quirkless feet pics. None of the precepts bring it up and the rest of the yakuza grunts never know. (Precepts think its weird but also don't wanna die)

Oh my GODS what if

Izuku somehow looses his shoes during the raid and like, Chisaki SEES and looses his shit because holy fuck this guy should be quirkless. Everyone questions how he could recognize on sight (could lead to Izuku having to pay for medical supplies during middle school and You Know What fuck yea hes going to monitize his quriklessness, or just, Chisaki has mad attention to detail)

By the gods, you asked and now we shall all receive:

For all of the different, and often times horrifying, ways Izuku has imagined his side job finally being discovered, he can honestly say this scenario wasn't the one he saw sitting at the top of the charts.

Here, of course, being in the middle of the street, mid-villain fight.

Or if he's being more accurate about the parts that are really sticking out to him: mid-villain fight in front of his homeroom teacher, a half dozen of his classmates, numerous other pro heroes and police officers, and the little girl strapped to his back.

Izuku had always kind of imagined he'd forget to close his laptop or his mom would walk in on him setting up a shoot one day despite him being meticulous about making sure she's out of the house and well away before he ever even thinks about pulling out his gear.

He'd only ever briefly entertained, admittedly nonsensical and wildly sleep-deprived, thoughts about this particular scenario happening.

And yet, here he is.

Izuku's honestly not sure how, exactly, he'd managed to lose his shoes in the battle. Hell, up until roughly ten seconds ago he hadn't really even noticed all that much or been all that inclined to care.

All he'd been focused on was protecting Eri and kicking Overhaul into the next calendar year. Most everything else, including his lost shoes and destroyed socks, hadn't seemed anywhere near as urgent as those two issues.

But he's absolutely noticing and caring now.

Izuku is absolutely going to hunt down whichever one of his ancestors it was who pissed off a luck kami or caused someone to curse their entire family line to "live in interesting times" and set their gravestone on fire.

Because divine retribution or an ancient curse has to be the reason why he's in this position.

"It is you, isn't it, Yamikumo?" Overhaul rasps in his direction, expression twisted in what looks a lot like some horrible form of almost starstruck confusion.

"Aa-hh," Izuku sputters out a broken sound, mind still not fully willing to accept what Overhaul saying that name to him has to mean.

"It has to be," Overhaul keeps on, eyes fever bright. "You're even wearing the white polish I sent you."

That statement's enough to snap Izuku's mind back into focus. Because that means ,,,

"Mr. Clean!?" Izuku squawks out the username of one of his best and most loyal customers.

And, much to his ever-mounting horror, Overhauls' face practically lights up.

"Yes!" The villain practically crows despite the fact that Izuku still has him pinned to the ground, with one bare heel digging into his collar bone.

But then, Izuku can't help but think just a bit hysterically, given all that's just been revealed, he's probably enjoying that part of this entire situation.

"I'd recognize those beautiful toes of yours anywhere," Overhaul keeps going, one clearly broken and disfigured hand coming up to pet the top of Izuku's foot gently. "But how? I don't understand, Yamikumo. You're supposed to be quir-"

Izuku knows exactly what Overhaul is about to announce so he does the only rational thing he can do in this situation.

He shifts his weight and brings his other bare foot down heel first against Overhaul's temple.

The villain collapses the rest of the way onto the rubble beneath him, finally, blessedly, unconscious.

"Problem Child," Aizawa-sensei's voice from so close behind him, and not to mention the obvious confusion in it, sends a shaft of pure dread straight down Izuku's spine. "What the actual fuck?"

By this point, Izuku thinks as the edges of his vision begin to blacken, passing out is basically self-defense.

#The Toes Show #BnHA #MHA #RayRambles #Drabble #BnHA Drabble

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mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess · 11 months

Text

Stretching out

@ninjakk

🧘🏻🍑🧋 Yoga, peach (which is entirely up to you 😉) & boba

I had way too much fun writing this one and you can tell.

Lan Wangji feels like the first five minutes of a porno. Not that he watches those. He just knows how the scenarios go. For science. He doesn't use them as inspiration for his fantasies at all. Shut up.

Anyway, he feels like the first five minutes of a porno and he doesn't know if he should be grateful to the heavens or scandalized that he's being tested like this.

He has been brought up in the spirit of discipline and self control, a master of his body and its animalistic impulses. ...And then his roommate and long time undisclosed crush, Wei Ying, has decided to take up at-home yoga and all that's gone to the very last circle of hell.

Lan Wangji is pretty sure he's going to die. He has to, otherwise he doesn't know how long he'll survive pretending like he doesn't see Wei Ying's tempting figure in those incredibly tight yoga pants he's taken to wearing.

Whoever invented those definitely has a vendetta against Lan Wangji specifically. How is he meant to live his life when he walks into his living room at midday, after a long morning of studying, and is greeted with an eyeful of ass as Wei Ying practices whatever poses the yoga instructor instructs in those YouTube tutorial videos?

In fact, Lan Wangji is going to sue this person. And the yoga instructor. And whoever invented yoga. So what if it's an ancient art? There have to be descendants somewhere.

He wants emotional damages in the millions. He has things to do, and he can't focus on any of them when all he can imagine is bending Wei Ying over in those yoga poses in his bed. So someone needs to pay for that. It's an attack on his productivity and well-being.

Today, Wei Ying's sent him for boba. Not that he'd do anything Wei Ying asked (he would, that's not the point right now), but he woke up craving boba himself and the quaint little shop that opened across the street sells the best tea Lan Wangji has ever tasted - so he got dressed to go get something for himself and asked Wei Ying, self-entitled "boba slut number one", if he wanted some too. Expectedly, the answer was yes, so here Lan Wangji is, getting two drinks for him and his... friend.

He's also ordered some of Wei Ying's favorite pastries, because if there's anyone who deserves a treat, it's him - and Lan Wangji sort of selfishly wants Wei Ying to latch onto him and hug him in gratefulness when he receives them. So what.

He's only gone for something like 15 minutes, but when he walks back into the apartment and hears the upbeat voice of the yoga instructor Wei Ying follows, he knows he has about 3 and a half minutes of self control in him before he has to run off to his room and lock the door.

And then he walks into the living room, and Wei Ying's in his tight yoga pants and a crop top that hides a total of zero skin, glistening sweat and red in the face - and Lan Wangji is ready to lock himself up in horny jail. Give him the key and a life sentence.

Wei Ying is bent over in what could only be aptly described as "face down, ass up" (not that Lan Wangji knows, shut up!!), his back arched so beautifully that Lan Wangji's mind can already picture him behind Wei Ying, inside-

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying calls out and promptly falls onto his belly before rolling over and taking a much more decent seated position. "I was wondering why you were taking so long!"

Lan Wangji decides he's not that much able to speak, so he just hands Wei Ying his paper bag and smiles at the joyful sound Wei Ying lets out upon discovering an entire collection of sweets and two cups of boba.

"You're really the best, Lan Zhan! I could kiss you right now!"

"Then do it."

Lan Wangji only realizes he says it out loud when he hears Wei Ying gasp. Panic fills him, and he doesn't know if he wants to flee or stay so still that he blends into the furniture.

Wei Ying's cheeks are so red he looks like he's been doused in blush powder.

"...would you like that? For me to kiss you?"

What the hell, Lan Wangji thinks to himself, and crosses the distance between him and Wei Ying, their lips meeting in place of an answer.

"W-wait, my lesson-" Wei Ying moans out as he finally separates from Lan Zhan for air.

Lan Zhan reaches to close the lid of his laptop in response. "I'll help you stretch out."

And he does.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #writing attempts #i hope you like it and thank you for the prompt <3

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voidscarredadjudicator · 8 months

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A VERY lengthy ramble about Salmonids, Grizzco, and Big Run.

Aaaand this is the follow up to my previous long post where I talked about the new Drizzle Season maps with my stream of consciousness observations. It is long. I am sorry.

Now, I seem to be in the minority when I say that I absolutely love Big Run as an event. I sort of get this vibe that a lot of people aren't happy with it, and considering how infrequent it is compared to Splatfests, I can't say I blame them - especially considering how stacked against the odds the reward system is. Like, top 5% of the entire playerbase for a gold statue? The playerbase of one of the best selling Nintendo games of recent memory? That's a lot of people who're gonna be left in the dust simply by design. I honestly can't fathom why they made the PvE gamemode's event more competitive than the PvP one, but for someone like me? Between the two, I do enjoy Big Run more. I prefer mastering a difficult challenge with a rare accolade to prove it over the stomping/getting stomped that comes with Splatfests.

So yeah, there's gonna be a Big Run arc in Humanity's Endling. I am biased. I will admit to this. In fact, I'm even willing to spill the beans on the fact that Act II is the Big Run arc. You may think it odd that the Big Run arc is gonna be happening before the inevitable Alterna arc, but keep in mind that you are technically able to experience Big Run before the main story. In fact, the original trailer for Big Run sorta inadvertently hints at this since Mr. Grizz's radio is still the bear eating the fish, rather than the new one you get after clearing the main story. Now obviously, that's likely the case since Nintendo didn't wanna spoil that detail, but it's worth keeping in mind that the main story can just... never be done on a save file. Could be the final damn Splatfest of S3 before some asshole decides to actually do something about Cuttlefish lurking in the manhole, y'know?

Anyways, Um'ami Ruins as a Big Run map is... interesting. The first three maps we've had have all had some obvious way for the Salmonids to arrive - Wahoo World is on the coast, Inkblot was built on a river, and Undertow is literally the sewers, but Um'ami?

We are in the desert. There is no water.

...or is there?

Now, bear with me for a second, because I'm gonna go full detective here. Full theorist. A game theorist, if you wi- *gets shot*

Why would the Salmonids even want to attack these ruins to begin with? Do they have some kind of deep rooted cultural vendetta against the people who built this place? Is there some sort of ancient artifact interred within these grounds which holds unfathomable power? Are the Salmonids simply stupid?

No, no, and no comment. It's a lot simpler, actually.

They're not after the ruins. They're after the town next to the ruins.

That clearly isn't Splatsville. It's nowhere near big enough. It's just some tiny town in the middle of literally nowhere that just so happens to border these ruins, and is likely where the excavators and archeologists that are working here live. Additionally, such a town in the middle of nowhere would need some kind of way to get water, and there's this cool invention made by none other than Mario "Jumpman" Mario himself (source: trust me) called 'motherfucking pipes'. Those pipes probably run under/around the ruins - hell, those pipes getting built might even be how the ruins got discovered in the first place - and the Salmonids, being the chaos incarnates that they are, hitched a ride.

But if that's the case, why are we fighting them in the ruins? One of two reasons: they're trying to secure the ruins as some sort of outpost first and we're stopping them before they do that, or Grizzco is actively countering them by cutting off their advance at the ruins themselves. I'd imagine there's likely some sort of measures at play as well to cut off the flow of pipes for the exact situation of, "oh god there's hundreds of fish climbing out of my toilet", which would even explain how all that water gets there. The waterways are closed; wherever it wells up is where Grizzco moves in, as that's the only place the Salmonids can emerge.

That's probably why the alarms were going off in Undertow Spillway, beyond a literal 'perimeter breach' alarm. They likely closed off every waterway going to/from the place to contain the advance, it gets dangerously close to overflowing, alarms start ringing... this is right underneath the city. Shit was dire.

Big Run is a phenomenon that is as much a natural disaster as it is a literal act of war. We get to play as the soldiers, since that's the 'fun' part, but like with any hurricane, tornado, typhoon, forest fire, flood, or earthquake, there's so many moving parts to the response that a lot of people don't know about. First responders, evac, medical, meteorological, just to name a few.

A lot of people seem to be under the impression that the Salmonids are just hapless victims of Grizzco, and Big Run is just them striking back after dealing with Grizzco for so long, but honestly? I disagree. I mean, Grizzco ain't exactly squeaky clean, that's for damn sure, but the Salmonids aren't all that great either. They have their own culture and belief system for how the world works, and part of that culture is one that idolizes combat to the point where they'll attack in droves simply because the clouds dictate. If anything, they probably respect Grizzco and it's workers to some degree for being such formidable opponents time and time again.

Big Runs have been happening long enough for them to be mentioned in what's more or less the closest thing to an in-universe equivalent of the Bible, so their aggression is pretty heavily and historically documented. And clearly, they have no interest in joining the wider society outside of their clans in their murky waters (with Little Buddy being an extraordinary exception). Every sect of their society is trained for fighting one way or another; the smarter ones build and pilot weapons, the stronger ones are commanders, and they even have a place for the inexperienced where they serve as the snatchers. Their entire belief system is predicated on the idea that conflict makes one whole, that fighting and then dying is a process that lets them serve the cycle of nature. It's so deeply engrained into their way of life that they arm their children and send them to fight and die as well. They're a proud warrior race, through and through.

Does that justify Grizzco moving in to take their eggs? Because keep in mind, the Splatoon universe is also undergoing a constant energy crisis, and while we know Grizzco is doing shady stuff with the Golden Eggs... we're still collecting Power Eggs, too. In fact, that's literally the name of the job position - 'Freelance Power Egg Collector'.

On top of that, Grizzco isn't really keeping it secret. They're very open about what exactly is done. You go in, you fight Salmonids, you get their eggs, and you come back. It's a dirty job, but someone's gotta do it. It's legal, somehow.

Grizzco is likely providing legitimate aid for society through egg collection, which is probably how it's been able to grow to begin with - despite it being a front for Mr. Grizz's own schemes. Not only that, but society relies on Grizzco during Big Run. You can hate them all you want, but they're the ones who're making sure you still have a city to live in and power to run your damn internet.

But also, it's clearly not impossible to have some kind of positive relationship with the Salmonids, as the Octarians have managed to get some kind of trade deal going with them - although as of Splatoon 3, the Octarians seem to be less an actual army and more just the last few groupies Octavio still has after the Squid Sisters pulled some inspirational anime moment hijinks through the power of song twice. It just seems like the only thing the Salmonids are interested in are... more weapons. Weapons that they will then use during Big Run.

Imagine your neighbor breaking into your home and stabbing you with a knife you let him borrow because the clouds 'told him to'. It's... sorta easy to see why the rest of society hasn't really tried doing that. The Octarians probably didn't have much choice - or were at least comfortable with the trade since the Salmonids dwell on the surface, so they wouldn't be affected by their stampede.

Really though, it's a matter of two different shades of gray in constant opposition with each other. Lawful Evil versus Chaotic Neutral. Pick your poison.

If you haven't noticed, I've given this a lot of thought. Kaleb will have a ton to say in Act II about this whole situation. It truly is a uniquely fucked scenario, especially for someone who's world was taken away because of fighting like that... and that's without even getting into the actual things that'll happen during that act.

Before this post gets any longer, I do wanna put out a headcanon that'll be present during Act II, and that's the idea that there's only one Big Run that happens. I find it really weird and frankly absurd that this legendary, prophesized event of utter devastation at the hands of the Salmonids is... a neat, two day event that happens once every few months where they attack a single place and then leave. It's quite literally a biblical event, what's the deal?

So basically, the way I picture it is that Big Run is closer to a week, maybe longer, and basically everywhere is being attacked at once. Like, each Big Run we do ingame is just another theater for the fighting that's happening at the same time as the previous runs. Or, in other words, Wahoo World is under attack at the same time as Um'ami, and Inkblot is under attack at the same time as Undertow, and they're all under attack right now all at once. The fact that Mr. Grizz always acts like you've never heard of Big Run when it starts and the fact that you can hear the fighting in Inkopolis Square no matter the map honestly kinda lends to this idea.

It's just spaced out weirdly in the actual game's event lineup because having Big Run be a week long event that happens only once in the game's entire lifespan would be incredibly stupid from a commercial standpoint. Yes, I am huffing copium.

Anyways, I'm gonna stop myself here because holy shit this is a long post and it's so late that it's early. My sleep schedule is in shambles. I enjoy making these, though. I might do one regarding Alterna & Mr. Grizz himself when we get closer to the Alterna arc. Also I will still be playing Big Run tomorrow. Join me if you dare.

#it's not procrastinating if i can make the excuse that it's field research #huh? i actually gotta write act ii for it to get finished?#shit dude. you got me

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desertfangs · 9 months

Text

Reassurances Armand/Daniel Mature (blood drinking, adult language) ~2,800 words

I don't know if this really counts as aftercare, but that's the prompt I wrote it to. There's some nice cuddling at the end? I'll probably put this on AO3 later.

If someone had told him that the Villa would be full of immortals a year before, Daniel never would have believed it. And now the house was packed with them, filling the parlors and rooms, roaming The Night Island, and taking their boats to the mainland. It was incredible, the notion that Daniel could sit in the same room as people who’d witnessed the fall of Rome, of those who’d seen history unfold, and speak to them! And to Louis! How incredible to be in the same room as him again!

When Daniel had imagined being a vampire, it had always been with Armand at his side, but he’d never really considered the others. The two of them had been alone in their own world for so long. The other vampires—the few he knew of by name—had felt more like mythical figures to Daniel by the end. And yet here they were, crowding his house.

Tonight, Daniel had gone hunting with Marius. He’d been hesitant at first, and half sure Marius only wanted him to drive the boat. In truth, the ancient vampire had seemed unimpressed with Daniel when they’d first met and hadn’t shown much interest in him since. And in addition to being something of a mythical figure in Daniel’s mind, he was Armand’s maker. They had a history Daniel knew very little about. Armand had let bits and pieces slip over the years, of course, but never the whole story.

This was the first time he and Marius had really had a conversation one on one. Marius mostly asked about the Night Island, its creation and purpose. How Armand had conceived of it. What it was for. “What do you mean, what is it for? It’s an all-night shopping center and plaza, an elite tourist destination.”

Daniel had asked a few questions about Armand, though Marius was guarded with his answers enough that Daniel had joked about seeing where Armand got it from, which only earned him a slight frown. Back on the Night Island, Marius had thanked him and then disappeared inside the house. The whole thing felt like some sort of test and Daniel was not sure he’d passed. But it had been exhilarating hunting with a vampire so old and practiced, and he wanted to get to know him a little better, given how important he was to Armand.

Inside, the Villa was noisy. Not just from the vampire voices or thoughts that filled the rooms now, but from the hum of electricity from the light bulbs and appliances. Sounds he’d never noticed with his mortal hearing. He could hear the waves crashing on the shores of the beaches so much more clearly, and even the distant sounds of the shopping center from the other side of the island.

He wandered from room to room, finding most of the living areas occupied. The house had seemed absurdly massive when it had been just him and Armand but it felt impossible to find a quiet place to sit now. He found himself going through the back of the house and out the back door to the garden.

Up around the side of the house was a patio made of paving stones that was perched on the cliff overlooking the ocean. Daniel sensed someone up there, but in the dark, dim way he could sense anyone. He could hear no thoughts, catch no hint of their mind. Which meant it could only really be one person.

He walked the path up and saw a shock of auburn hair over the top of the Adirondack chair. Daniel sat in the empty chair beside him. He glanced over at Armand. His auburn hair was long and curly, its natural length. His face was ghostly pale, the stark white of a vampire who had not yet fed. He wore a blue t-shirt and jeans and a petulant expression that made him look closer to his mortal years.

In the sky expanding out before them was a thin strip of moon with dark clouds passing overhead. From here, you could see a hint of their private dock and he noted a couple of the boats were out.

“Nice night,” he said.

Armand turned his head slowly to look at him, a long, agonizing stare that seemed to pierce Daniel’s soul. “Hm.”

Daniel snorted. “Don’t hold back.”

Armand narrowed his eyes.

“What’s got you in a mood?” Daniel asked. Armand had always been mercurial but these past weeks since they’d arrived back home with the others in tow, he’d been particularly moody.

“I’m not in a mood.”

Daniel sighed. He considered getting up and walking away, finding someone who would appreciate his company. But he wanted to spend time with Armand. It had been hard to get a moment alone with him, except in the quiet dark of the coffin they now shared. But Daniel passed out too early and woke so late that even that time was short.

“Fine, if you say so.”

Armand turned back to the horizon, his gaze cast out over the dark ocean.

“I went hunting with Marius,” Daniel said.

“I’m aware.” His tone was flat. Was he annoyed? Bothered? Daniel studied his impassive expression. He could see all of the little capillaries, blue and thin with lack of blood, beneath his white skin. He could see the fine lines in his lips and every single eyelash. But he couldn’t tell what Armand was thinking.

“He’s as cagey as you when it comes to discussing the past. Is that where you get it from?”

“Is that why you went with him? To pester him about my past?”

Okay, there was a definite edge there. Daniel reached for his cigarettes. “Yes, Armand, I dragged your maker to Miami so I could get him to spill all your secrets.” He lit the cigarette, taking a deep drag and letting the hot smoke fill his dead lungs. He exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl into the air and disappear.

Armand sat statue still in his chair.

“Don’t worry, he didn’t spill any,” Daniel said. He took another drag on his cigarette before stubbing the butt in the ashtray on the table between them.

Then he stood. He reached down, extending his hand. Armand stared at it like it was a bomb that might explode in his face. Daniel thrust his hand toward him again. Armand finally took it. Daniel used his vampiric strength to lift Armand to a standing position.

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Armand asked. But he didn’t resist as Daniel pulled him down the path back to the Villa. Armand walked with him into the house. Daniel led him past a room where he saw Louis and Khayman having a discussion and then down the hall to the grand staircase.

Upstairs, he pulled Armand into his bedroom, where he’d spent most of his days sleeping fitfully as a mortal, blackout curtains pulled over the giant picture windows that looked out over the ocean. The curtains were perpetually open now. He closed the door and flicked on the light. Armand went over to the dresser and studied the detritus gathered atop of it. An ashtray, clean only because the housekeeper had emptied it, coins and sticks of gum. Armand slid one of the pennies around on the wood with his finger.

“Are you upset I went hunting with Marius?” Daniel asked.

Armand looked over his shoulder, surprised. “Why should I be?”

Daniel ran his fingers through his soft blond hair. He could feel the trail of his fingers over his scalp and his hair fell immediately back into place. It had never done that when he was alive. “I don’t know. Jealousy?”

Armand gave him a wry look as if that were absurd. Daniel didn’t think it was. Armand had held him close several times around the others and put a possessive arm around him in the car as they traveled to Miami when Lestat had jokingly flirted with him.

Daniel dropped his hands to his sides. “Something is bothering you. And I can’t do anything about it if you won’t tell me what it is.”

“Perhaps it’s not your problem to solve, Daniel.” Armand’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

Daniel moved toward him, wrapping his arms around Armand’s chest and pulling him back against him. He kissed his throat and said into his ear, “Let me try.”

Armand leaned back against him, arms curling around Daniel’s. His body was cool against Daniel’s blood-warmed form and he pressed against him as if trying to absorb his warmth. Daniel bent against his hair and breathed him in, the scent of his floral cologne mixed with the shampoo he’d used in their shared shower two nights ago, the faintest hint of metallic blood, and beneath that, the faint, unmistakable smell of Armand.

After a long moment, Armand said, “We’re surrounded by other immortals.”

Daniel laughed, even though he constantly thought the same thing. “Yeah, well, whose idea was that?”

“I seem to recall you singing the praises of Night Island as a haven for our kind,” Armand said, but there was no edge to his tone anymore. He almost sounded amused.

And Daniel had done that. He’d been so proud of the Night Island, of this thing Armand had built—with his help, yes, but it had been Armand’s idea and design. He’d eagerly told any of the others who would listen all about it. It had not entirely been his idea for them all to come to the island at once—he’d envisioned them all coming to visit in small groups. Perhaps it had been Lestat who suggested it. But Daniel had certainly planted the idea.

“Do you not want them here? We can ask them to leave.”

Armand glanced up, his expression unreadable “I’m happy to host them all, Daniel, I merely worry that being surrounded by so many of them might make you—“

He stopped, cutting himself off. Daniel frowned down at him. “Make me what?”

Armand pulled out of his arms and turned, leaning against the dresser. He stared in Daniel’s eyes for so long that Daniel thought he might lose himself counting Armand’s eyelashes. Wasn’t that a thing vampires did? Have the compulsion to count?

“It might disabuse you of the notion that I am anything exceptional.”

Daniel stared at him. Then he laughed. He laughed so easily these days but that was too funny. Armand did not look amused. He pulled away from Daniel and moved to the bed, sitting on the edge of it, his shoulders sunken.

“Armand, you’re the most exceptional person I know. No one can match you for curiosity or passion.”

“I’m merely a vampire, Daniel. As you are now, along with all of the others in our house. You no longer have need of me.”

Daniel laughed again, unable to help it. Such a ridiculous notion! “What, you think I’m going to replace you?”

Armand stared at the floor.

God, that was it! What an absurd thought! Daniel faltered, trying to imagine where this was coming from. But of course, he’d been enamored with Lestat immediately, and captivated by seeing Louis again. He’d been disappearing with Jesse. Desperate to talk to the others, to ask them all questions. How could Daniel not be curious about all of them, and a little starstruck by some of them?

Tension gathered in the room like fog. Daniel swallowed, his mouth dry. He stared at Armand, who often seemed larger than life, now looking small on the edge of his bed.

He sat down next to him. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

Armand made a soft noise of acknowledgement, still focused on the hand-woven rug on the floor.

“You want to know the truth?” Armand’s eyes flicked toward him. “I don’t think Marius is all that impressed with me.”

Armand looked up, face softening. “Then he’s a fool.”

“He has to be,” Daniel agreed. “He let you go.”

Armand huffed but there was a slight smile dancing on his lips finally, the barest hint of something other than solid blankness. “It didn’t happen quite like that.”

Daniel shrugged. “All the same.”

Daniel ran fingers through Armand’s soft auburn curls and then cupped his chin. He leaned over and kissed him. His mouth was cool and the touch of their tongues was electric. Every kiss felt deeper now, like a meeting of their souls. When it was over, Daniel felt breathless and desperate to get it back.

“I love you,” he breathed.

Armand titled his head, studying Daniel’s face, even as his fingers caressed his cheek. Lately when Daniel said it, Armand would question him, asking if he was sure, if he really did. Daniel thought he was being sardonic, but now he worried that Armand truly feared he didn’t love him.

This time, though, Armand said nothing. He kissed him back, climbing on top of his lap and straddling him as he did. He kissed him with such intensity that Daniel fell back against the bed and Armand landed on top of him, mouth still connected to his as if he might die if their lips were parted.

Armand’s fangs nicked Daniel’s tongue and blood exploded into the kiss, hot and charged. Armand moaned as his tongue licked the blood from his mouth, trying to get every minuscule drop. When the kiss ended, his lips trailed down Daniel’s chin to his throat, and left little kisses over the soft skin. Each one sent tingles down Daniel’s spine. Incredible how the tiniest touch could rack his entire being now.

Armand sucked on his neck, mouth suctioned around the skin over his artery like a vacuum hose. He licked and sucked with vigor and Daniel writhed beneath him, thrusting his cock up against him out of sheer habit, though it no longer responded as it had when he’d been alive. Not that it mattered. Every cell in his body was a raw nerve now, every caress and lick and touch as intense as anything he’d ever felt.

Daniel clung to Armand’s back, holding him fast, urging him closer against him as Armand sucked vigorously at his skin and Daniel thought it might break open from the force. A sharp pain jolted Daniel as Armand’s fangs pierced his skin. He tightened his grip on Armand, fingernails digging into his t-shirt. He loved this feeling, the way Armands lips moved slightly over the wound as Daniel’s blood rushed into his mouth and filled his veins. Daniel’s heart hammered against him, struggling to hold the blood he’d drunk from the evil doer on the shore.

And then the connection clicked in his mind and he could see images from Armand’s. Images of Daniel in the Compound, surrounded by the others, Daniel wandering alone, Daniel with Louis, with Lestat, standing at their sides, talking, laughing. Armand was there but never beside him.

His heart lurched as Armand swallowed another mouthful, bringing him back to the present. Armand against him, on top of him, connected to him. These were the thoughts Daniel tried to send back, that he wanted to be like this, together, linked, never apart.

Their hearts warred with each other, Daniel’s straining against Armand’s, which tried to overtake him. Daniel panted as his blood roared through his veins, rushing toward Armand’s mouth. Pressure built inside him and threatened to overtake him.

And then Armand released his throat with gasp. He panted against his neck, his breath warm against Daniel’s skin.

He sat up. Daniel could see the color in his white skin, just the faintest shift to a pinker hue. He’d have to kill to achieve more. Daniel sat up with him and kissed him again, chasing his mouth, wanting that connection back.

Armand stood and Daniel reached for him, grabbing at his t-shirt to pull him back. Armand smiled at him, a soft, genuine smile that warmed Daniel’s heart.

“Don’t go. Let’s just hang out here for a while,” he said.

Armand hesitated but then nodded. Relief washed over Daniel. He crawled up to the side of the bed he always slept on, grabbing the knit blanket at the foot of the bed as he did.Armand lay down beside him. Armand put his hand on Daniel’s chest. Daniel covered them both in the blanket and then put his arm around him, holding him close, his other hand threading fingers through Armand’s hair.

“No one could replace you, you know.”

Armand’s grip tightened around Daniel. “Eternity is a long time, Daniel.”

Daniel shook his head. “And now we have it to spend together.”

Armand relaxed against him, the tension bleeding out of his muscles. “My Daniel.”

“Always, boss.” Daniel rubbed his back gently, reassuringly, feeling the weight of him against his body, the way he clung to Daniel’s side, the feeling of his cheek pressed against his chest. This was what he wanted. Forever like this, with Armand.

#vckinkweek #day 7: aftercare #armand/daniel #daniel molloy #armand #night island era #devil's minion #the devil's minion #vc fanfic #vc fic #tvc #vc #vampire chronicles #i wrote this pretty quickly and none of my stuff is beta read ever lol #i need to find someone to foist my drafts on #but i hope i didn't miss anything big #this was fun to write #even if i'm not sure it fits the brief #whatever i love new vampire daniel on night island

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bluegekk0 · 7 months

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If the others knew exactly what transpired during Ghost's fated duel with the Absolute Radiance, what would they think of it? The whole "Reunited the void into a shape that once almost destroyed the world" thing. I had a much more interesting way to phrase it that would've probably provoked more thought but unfortunately a sudden illness stole that thought away so that's all that's left unfortunately, sorry >>

i think there would be a lot of fear involved. i'm mainly thinking about dirtmouth here and i'm assuming that's what you meant, but most of those who live there likely don't even know about the abyss and the void. they already feel quite uneasy around grimm, who doesn't even look that different from them and has already made it clear that he has no bad intentions towards them. i think the idea of a giant void entity potentially roaming hallownest would terrify them, regardless of whether or not ghost is in control of it, and knowing that said entity killed a god would only reinforce that fear

i think fpk especially would feel very anxious about it. in the au, i went with the idea that the blackwyrm he once defeated was actually the previous shade lord, weakened and sealed away in the abyss by the radiance and grimm's father. so not only does he know how strong the void can get, but on top of that, the shades united under the new shade lord belong to the vessels, and he assumes that most of them hate him for what he's done. sure, one of them was in control of the entity, but what if said vessel wanted revenge? he would be powerless, and worst of all, would endanger everyone around him. of course, ghost had no intentions of going after anyone and chose to allow themselves and their siblings to move on in peace, but how would fpk and the others know that? i don't think any of them would be brave enough to actually climb down into the abyss and check hahaha

so even with the infection gone, they would still live in constant fear, and this time they would have no idea what to expect. not fun. so i think it's for the better that no one really knows what happened

---

as a side note, i think it would be interesting if ghost's decision to "destroy" the shade lord was driven not just by the desire to find peace, but also out of fear that they would lose control of the being. void is unpredictable and unstable by nature, so they couldn't allow for the possibility of it going rogue and endangering hallownest. i imagine the shade lord forming in the first place is quite uncommon and only happens in under very specific conditions. for the previous shade lord (which could have actually been the first one, i like to think it existed for many years before fpk and his knights defeated it) it was the ancient conflict between the void and the light, aggravated by the radiance and grimm's father. similarly, ghost's shade lord was formed in order to defeat the radiance and stop the infection. so both of these were very specific scenarios, and unless something happens that disturbs the void once again, it's unlikely that it will happen again

there are still things i haven't quite pieced together about the void in the au, mainly the part about the ancient civilization that worshipped it. although i think it would be interesting if said civilization was actually destroyed by the first shade lord, being a good example of just how unpredictable void can get and why it needed to be sealed away in the abyss. i'm not sure, i'm kind of thinking out loud right now. i imagine a lot of what i said doesn't really make sense or add up, but that's cause, well, i'm kind of making it up as i go. i do have a rough vision for everything god related within the au, i just need to slowly figure out the details and find a good balance between staying somewhat true to canon and having fun with it

also i'm really tired right now and i already lost my train of thought at least three times. so take everything i said with a pinch of salt. maybe a spoonful. this is all kind of work in progress, after all

#ask stuff #feral pk au

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pallysuune · 2 months

Text

Theater of Hearts

Prologue

Being the firstborn daughter of a noblewoman, Meliana had always known that she would be married off to some guy or another for the benefit of her family. Maybe, if the guy was really important, for the benefit of their planet. She’d never even imagined it would be something like this.

Humanity had spread beyond the bounds of Earth long ago, but there were still so many mysteries of the galaxy. When the strange aliens had first come from the darkness between the stars, humans had called them ‘elves’, harkening back to ancient stories and legends. They proclaimed themselves Aeldari. Meliana was still a child when they had first come into realspace from a realm of twisting passages and space they called the Webway. She was still a little girl when treaties had been signed and deals had been made.

She was still a little girl when the first human woman was given as a bride to the Aeldari, a way to unite their two people despite their differences, to entwine them with the intention of keeping peace for generations.

For all she had always known she would have an arranged marriage, she always assumed it would be with a human.

She was wrong.

This had suddenly become a lot bigger than she’d expected.

Among the elves, the Aeldari, there were a faction that they called the Rillietann. They were artists, priests, and warriors all rolled into one. Players who’s calling was to serve their Laughing God by performing the history of their race on stage, and defending their race and territory from monsters that came from the deepest darkness of space. They were a secretive group, always masked, equal parts jester and assassin. And they all had roles.

At the top of their hierarchy, but set apart was the one they called the Arbennian. This was a player who was the only one allowed to play the great enemy from their mythology. And because of that, there was a taboo about them. It seemed like superstition to the humans, but the Aeldar took it very seriously. This Arbennian was a solitary force, belonging to no troupe, but still held in the highest regard, feared and revered almost in equal measures. High Priest and one to embody all the worst parts of their mythology. Some even went so far as to say that speaking with one was bad luck.

Meli wouldn’t have figured that this was the sort of figure to get married.

She was wrong again.

She would never know the exact series of events that led to her being the one chosen to be married to one of these esteemed and maligned Solitaires, but it happened. She came of age and she was told that she would be married to one, connecting him and his kin to their planet, hopefully for everyone’s mutual benefit. She would be leaving the planet she had been raised on, where she had lived all her life, and be taken to some strange, otherworldly new home in their Webway, with her only tie back to humanity being the knight chosen from the world governor’s house.

All Meliana knew was that this was going to be a mess, and nothing she had done had prepared her for it.

#wargammer au #rogue trader au #now on ao3

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vicbutnotactually · 7 months

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SORRY TO ASK FOR MORE INFO BUT THIS AU SO TASTY… tell me more about the boys 🥺 especially like. Did they like each other before ending up stranded together? And what did that shotgun wedding look like because 👀👀

Ask as much as you like! I love asks :]

(I’m currently working on more drawings of The Elder Gays ™️ but bear with me it takes a second)

The did like each other before they went through the portal, but when they were dropped into this new and scary world, romance was put on the back burner to focus on their survival. There was an awkward phase in the beginning tho, where neither of them really knew what to do. Even a point where they were both so stressed and frustrated and scared that it resulted in a lot of arguing and couple dramatic scenes where someone would storm off or say something they didn’t mean (it’s a ship au, you know I had to do it to em.)They did like each other, but they also had bigger fish to fry, at that point it’s been a few months and they’re starting to worry that no one is coming for them. Eventually, they get in a situation where they think they’re about to die, and confession happens >:] after they survive, they start to settle into the idea more. Even though they’ve met other people in their time there, they feel like they only really have each other.

At first, everything was unofficial. Casey would flirt relentlessly and Leo would pretend he’s annoyed. But after they realized they were probably in it for the long run, they made things official.

It took them a while to get used to their new environments, they tried living in the cities, but found it to be more stressful that being out in the wild. I imagine that they probably had several run-ins with gangs, struggled to find food or water, and had to hide out in abandoned places and alleys. Eventually, they moved out, I like to think that their last straw was one of them catching an illness that was running rampant in the city which could possibly be life threatening. Who gets sick is fine either way for me tbh; either way, one has to find a better place to live outside of the city, fight off anything dangerous, take care of the essentials (shelter, food, and water,) on top of taking care of the sick one.

The events leading up to their wedding are as follows: they’ve been busy recently, hunting large fauna and salvaging ancient tech, both to sell and trade off in the cities, it’s going well for them, they have money and supplies to support themselves (mostly) and have a somewhat permanent place to live. During a slightly riskier hunt, they find themselves overrun and Leo almost dies. Casey sees it in slow motion as a deadly hit misses him by less than a centimeter and experiences more fear than he ever has before. Immediately afterward, while they’re still fighting off these creatures:

C: “WE NEED TO GET MARRIED”

L (slashing at something with his sword: “WHAT?”

C (louder): “MARRY ME! NOW!”

L: “NOW?!”

C: “YES! WE WONT LIVE FOREVER”

L: “OK”

C (calling over to someone nearby): “ (insert name) MARRY US, WE WANT TO GET MARRIED”

X person: “WHAT, NOW!?”

C (holding off an attacker with his weapon): “YES NOW DO IT”

X person: “ok then... DO YOU CASEY TAKE LE-“

C: “I DO”

L: “I DO”

X: “I NOW PRONOUNCE (shoots something) YOU HUSBANDS YOU MAY KISS THE GROOM”

And cue hurried kiss in the middle of a battlefield with possibly an explosion in the background

Let me know if there’s anything specific you wanna know about :]

Also, do you have any thoughts on what this au should be called?

#drawings coming soon #tmnt 2012 #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2k12 #casey jones #tmnt au #caseynardo #leocasey #hamato leonardo #tmnt leo 2012 #tmnt leo

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rex101111 · 2 years

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i now step back upon my “taokaka should have been the main character of blazblue” soapbox (though truthfully i never leave it housing prices are surprisingly reasonable on hills you choose to die on) to give another reason as to why her being the MC would have been really fun.

Specifically, she would have been the fighting game equivalent of Kirby. Allow me to explain.

Alright, so the biggest thing about Kirby games is that the lore is surprisingly deep and dark and full of ancient evils and long dead heroes and wish granting living stars and all that junk, while Kirby himself remains blissfully oblivious to all of it.

The reason being that he’s a basically good hearted kid with a relatively simple view of the world who is, coincidentally, the latest, and possibly last, in a long long line of super powerful warriors. So he just sees a bunch of jerks who steal his cake or wreck his house or make his friends sad so he just saddles up to make ‘em quit it. And he does make ‘em quit it. Every single time.

And because he always makes ‘em quit it he continues to be his happy jolly oblivious self, while he makes the lives of the people around him better just by being positive and friendly. He’s surrounded by people more serious or selfish than him, but they all defer to and trust in him because he’s proven himself, over and over, as a good and capable person. He’s their friend, Kirby, he’ll find a way to sort this all out just fine.

There’s a bunch of similarities between Tao and Kirby; they’re both big eaters, neither of them have any clue about the wider lore of their setting (Kirby because he’s a naïve kid and Tao because she’s naïve but also...kinda dumb), both of them are a part of a lineage of great warriors (Kirby is a Star Warrior while Tao is the clone of Jubei, one of the Six Heroes who fought the Black Beast), and both of them take a relaxed view on life.

If Tao had been the main character of Blazblue; the story would have shaken out something like so: Taokaka goes out from her village to find a way to get money to buy food. She meets Ragna, who she remembers from a wanted poster, and goes to fight him for that money. Problem; she’s hungry, so she forgets that first thing and says that if she beats him he has to buy her food.

Ragna is like, “alright fine whatever, weird cat...”, because this is just this random weird cat girl he can beat her just fine. And than she beats him. Trounces him, really, and he can only lay on his back in disbelief. While the cat girl cheers about her victory and impending meal, Ragna can only think that that beating was...oddly familiar.

He buys her food, cause he promised and he doesn’t want to get beat up by the cat girl again, and she’s really happy about it. Really happy. Oddly happy, They finish and he leaves...and the cat follows him.

“...you got your food, what else do you want?”

“Huh? Waddya mean Good Guy? Tao wants to hang out with Tao’s friend!”

And so Taokaka hangs out with her friend. And suddenly she has to deal with a bunch of weirdos trying to fight her friend, so she steps in every time and gets them to quit it. NOL officers, Noel, Jin, all the way to Nu. She just beats them all up because they keep trying to hurt her friend and nobody hurts Taokaka’s friends.

Just, imagine she gets to Hazama/Terumi, and he takes off his hat and does his laugh and he goes on this big speech about his plan and AMATERASU and all that anime villain shit...and Taokaka just scratches the top of her head befuddled and asks “...sooo, Tao didn’t get most of that, but are you saying you’re the reason Good Guy is grumpy and sad all the time?”

And Terumi can only really blink at her slowly and go, “heh, you know what? Yeah, that’s basically the gist of it.”

And Taokaka nods cheerfully, “Okay! Tao gets it!”

And than she beats him up. Beats the absolute shit out of him. And Terumi is a mix of rage, panic, and terror. Because this is like fighting Jubei. No, this is like fighting Jubei if he had no regard for his own physical well being or for the integrity of his environment and was somehow both utterly stupid and completely mental.

And this repeats for every major villain in Blazblue. All the other Arcade Modes have each character struggle against their inner demons and these cruel villains, while the Canon Story is Tao’s Eventful Afternoon where she meets a bunch of weird guys, befriends them, and then meets a big scary nightmarish villain who she beats up with her big puffy sleeves (full of knives) until they quit trying to hurt her friends.

It would have been rad, is all I’m saying.

#blazblue #Taokaka #mori did nothing with Tao so im restoring balance to the universe by suggesting EVERYTHING be done with Tao

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changelingsandothernonsense · 9 months

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Choose Violence asks! Pick the most inflammatory ones you can find on the list and answer them. If Danger!Josh has an unpopular opinion on specific things mentioned therein, he can share them too.

Oh yes! Let's get riekling over here! This includes ART! Under the cut for length. I'm mostly just gushing about a Danger!Josh HC that I have. :3 You know the one ;)

7. What character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

So I have two of these, the first one being Cicero and the second being Miraak. Prior to seeing any discourse I either gave zero shits or just didn't care for them (based off of Cicero, I can't handle his voice, it's so grating and hurts my ears.) But I didn't think that much about either of them until I started actually participating in the fandom (in my own way, I don't really contribute outside of personal conversations and any of the art I produce...which has nothing to do with either of those characters...except my one joke about Miraak as a Shoggoth being sexy).

I had no idea that it was immoral or moral to dislike either character and I'm sorry but Cicero makes me think of smelly ham water (as someone who is very mentally ill from trauma I also find him a bit insulting.) and Miraak is a missed opportunity that has been pulled in so many directions that I just can't. I won't.

18. It's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on...

Teldryn Sero! Blade for hire, best swordsman in all Morrowind and absolute goddamn Dwemer-loving dorkface! Yes, you heard me! That guy is astounded by those ruins! I present to you his vanilla dialogue when you encounter a Dwemer ruin: "The dwarves were a clever race. I wonder what happened to them?"

And his Markarth line:

"Can you imagine what Markarth must have looked like when the dwarves were living here? I can't even begin to imagine." It's there hidden amongst all that dramatic cynicism, sarcastic bravado and slight "Dunmer are better than you" attitude. This guy is a nerd for anything Dwemer! I never see anyone point this out though. I think it's a missed opportunity for character-building. His tone, still sarcastic as ever (because he is dripping in it) does change to one of awe. The only other thing he gets this way about are the Telvanni mushroom Tels. So he seems to appreciate grand architecture (though not Nordic or Imperial styles interestingly enough), it would explain why every town you walk into in Skyrim elicits a bitch-a-thon from him. He hates everything because it looks unimpressive to him. Blacklight must be as grand as Markarth is intended to be in the lore. Since he compares that city to everything. I have my own thoughts on what it looks like too ;) Guess who else is a dork for ancient shit? Me! So naturally I grabbed onto these lines and ran with them. I HC his interest in Dwemer is a full-on obsession. He wants to go to that museum, he wants to go dungeon diving with you and he insists on dumping as many dwemer nick-nacks into his pack as he can. He also does this with knives lol.

I also HC him as the Nerevarine, so on top of that I have him swiping that Dwemer Coherer back from Divayth Fyr as payback for not actually curing his corprus. Now what on earth is a coherer? An electrical component formerly used to detect radio waves. It consists of a tube containing loosely packed metal particles. They were used to pick up and measure radiowaves. And so Dwifi was born! Danger!Josh wants to reverse-engineer that shit! And I ran with that and created this <3

My baby bird fiddling with that damn machine part!

#asks #me blabbering about my fav NPC turned OC #Danger!Josh #dwifi

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bellshazes · 1 year

Text

do it again, director's cut edition because i'm procrastinating writing the last part of the last chapter and it's kind of helpful to review. with luck someone else here will enjoy the behind-the-scenes content as well

chapter 1

The little desk Scar has set up right across from the front door of his studio apartment is covered in them, some of them larger and loose, the smaller ones in what clearly used to be ice cube trays.

no joke this detail is because of a New Uses for Old Things feature that used to be in the magazine Real Simple, which was life hacks before "life hacks" was a term. ice cube tray as a jewelry organizer.

There’s an orange one with smooth, straight-cut sides that fits perfectly in his palm.

i really did write this with the intent of it being the courage crystal (formally established later) but I never have gone back once to check whether it's orange. ditto the green danger detection one later. no one's called me out for it though

it'll never get explicitly said in fic, but they each induce the opposite of their intended effect. bdubs' courage crystal makes him extremely paranoid, etho's danger detection lands him in the hospital, and even tango's rage crystal leaves him mellow and avoidant.

We’ll just go up there and put a little tarp over it,” he’d told Etho when their kitchen ceiling had started to drip. “I’m a professional, it’ll be easy, and we won’t get rained on inside while the landlord takes two weeks to get someone out here."

i think about bdubs' tenure as a general contractor a lot, mostly because i know of very few other people who have opinions about roofs they pass while driving.

and Etho’s always been good with a bow –

historically speaking, anyway; the very first indication that LL!bdubs remembered previous timelines as well.

Etho is wearing his ancient, scuffed-up blue sneakers, and only then because it would have been about sixteen different ladder safety violations to wear the socks and opened toed slippers he constantly wears in the house.

another old joke about etho's diamond booties and/or socks-and-sandals depictions in fanart. i imagine the sneakers as diamond blue high tops befitting a guy who's into pop punk.

“Already hid it while you were in the bathroom,” says Etho, extra chipper. “And now that you mention it, a two-person Twilight Imperium game is tempting –" “I know just enough about that to know you’re just being mean.”

Board games come up again in chapter 2 and 7, but TI usually takes minimum 8 hours to play and is a space-set empire building and turn based strategy tile-building game. I think Tango and Etho are regularly trying to rope friends into playing with them but it's a bit much for most people, and absolutely not viable for a concussed Bdubs. Catan is also stretching it, but I think bdubs has extremely normie board game taste as a path of least resistance.

chapter 2

He knows he died saying Etho’s name, but unlike a normal dream, his death doesn’t wake him up. He has a faint awareness that whatever his death set in motion is still happening out there, somewhere, but he can’t access it anymore, wherever or whenever he is now, in a darkness waiting for the credits to roll. Nothing comes.

the mechanics for what dreams come when, with what level of detail etc., have been winged this whole time. but I definitely struggled to find a way to have bdubs plausibly and selectively remember only the dying, the difficult parts and not his enjoyment of them. there's no hard rules beyond what seems appropriate to the situation - things the crystal might be in synergy with, or bdubs recalling his nether death when he falls from the roof similarly - but I did think about it constantly while writing.

that said, something the characters never fully figure out but bdubs will almost recognize is that the people who were given and gave away the most lives have an easier time remembering:

scar with his crystals and his souls is really unfazed by past life memories (and calls back to hcs7).

tango, who was given many lives for his betting game and was forced to give them away on top of distributing the winnings, reacts on instinct way before he has dreams. when he does, they're messy and violent like bdubs', more tangled with the reality.

etho only ever gave one life for the betting game, and received none. he dreams by proximity and by crystal, by resonance; the dreams contrast and he has mainly good moments.

cleo picks up the dreams easily - her allies also kept bringing her back up to yellow, and she responds at first like tango does, pre-emptively and instinctively. but when she gets a crystal it's off to the races, and it's not so bad because she had a more stable alliance and also she's got joe to call and bdubs to contrast against. she also definitely talks to scott and pearl about it, but it's not relevant for this fic.

bdubs, of course, gave one life and was given several. he had the bad luck to parallel his last life, and so the fic unfolds. you know how it is with past lives

this all probably implies the southlands, post death coffee incident, start having a spate of dreams and skizz and impulse (they are friends, impulse works at the cafe, it's just never been relevant) have a really funny conversation about their parallel friendgroup dramas but i don't feel like i can write most of the southlands confidently, so please use your imagination and possibly tell me about it.

“Say ‘thank you, Bdubs, for graciously offering to buy me coffee,’” hollers Bdubs as he scrambles out of bed. He doesn’t leave any space for Etho to reply. “It’s like I’m not allowed to get a little extra beauty rest now and then, not that I need it of course. If I were any less perfect than I am I’d make them put all that extra crap you hate in there as punishment for your ungraciousness, one of those – what did you call them, Etho, one of those frappucini things –“

I will never let the time Etho said "frappucini appletini" when onboarding Bdubs as a shade-e-ees employee in s7 die. he will never live it down.

Etho hadn’t fought back much, and seemed to enjoy the endless opportunities to accuse Bdubs of photosynthesizing or pretending to mistake him for a large houseplant if he happened to be wearing green, which was often.

this is probably my favorite one-off gag/detail. every single time etho wakes up at noon and walks into the office to see bdubs wearing green and limned in gold by the afternoon sunbeams he makes the exact same photosynthesis plant joke and bdubs reacts exactly the same way and tells him to get a new joke. neither of them ever do.

“You might need to feed Pineapple Pizza for me. And make sure and eat something, will you? Actual food.”

i'm going to be honest, i don't recall whatsoever the rationale for bdubs and etho having a cat is - I inherited it from the original MLL AU posts. but i'm fond of it because bdubs hates cats and etho loves collecting pets and forgetting about them but also practicing talking to himself. she's dear to me anyway

Maybe it’s not fair to resent Etho’s terrorizing when he can look down at his own hands and see someone else’s blood there, dripping from his own sword – but he has never dreamed of hurting Etho.

this bit of hypocrisy was another huge hurdle for writing, lmao. bdubs' kill of tango and insistence he'd never kill etho after killing grian in ep1 show how cavalier he liked to play his own bloodlust, but with imperfect information in this life it's less hypocrisy and more fixating on etho's "killing" of him not because it's murder but because it's betrayal. cleo engages with this deftly later, because she of all people has seen the etho and bdubs trying to kill each other while secretly wanting the other one to survive song and dance more closely than anyone.

“What do you want,” says Cleo, but it’s only her usual level of grumpiness. “Can’t I call you for no real reason?” Bdubs says, extra-sweet. “Well, one reason, but the reason is I just wanted to talk. I’ve missed you so much!” “It is one o’clock on a weekday, Bdubs. Not all of us can set our own schedules.”

my headcanon is that cleo is a taxidermist, which is partially a joke about an au i made with a friend like 7 years ago for a different fandom, but i thought it would be funny with her armor stand ksills. i don't know what a taxidermist daily work life is like and i've avoided having to describe it though. i did interior designer a day in the life research for bdubs and have managed to gloss over etho's work details beyond "computer guy" so that's all you're getting.

“Oh, you’re too kind,” Bdubs had laughed as he built a statue and moved his victory point marker around the next corner. “You’d give up anything for a loyal friend like me, right?”

it's the chapter 2 board game: this time it's kingsburg! you roll dice which allow you to gain the favor of courtiers on the board to build up your city; buildings give you materials or other advantages or best yet, victory points, which are tracked with meeples on the outer rim of the board. i think it's bdubs' compromise of choice because of the medieval and courtier-courting and city-building themes AND you can cockblock people's desired resources with your own rolls. and it's not hard but it's fun. skizz also really enjoys it and tango and etho have more fine taste but also are usually down for it. this has been "board games headcanons with peter"

Intellectually, he knows the dream is pulling from what’s on his waking mind, like Tango’s weird aggression and being a little lonelier now that his and Bdubs’ schedules don’t often line up.

honestly this is my own stance on dreams, despite an enduring involuntary belief in signs and omens, but etho is such a rationalist it fits, and paves the way for the 1% flawed convo he has with scar in LL that i steal from later. but it's also transparently a little self-deluding because reality in these worlds is much weirder.

He had a tendency to come off as standoffish and intimidating, but Bdubs had seen right through him and immediately started calling him a nerd and a softie and stuck to his side.

etho's on record as talking about making videos as a way of improving his speaking skills, which really shows if you go and watch his old content! i was also thinking about (or maybe predicting?? i don't want to take too much credit but this was written at the end of 2021) etho in bdubs' netherite hunting stream saying something about how he used to be the timid one and now bdubs is. they don't change, they just take turns ;)

“Can he? I say that with love, of course,” Scar says hastily at the incredulous raise of Etho’s eyebrow. “Bdubs and I, we go way back – not as far back as you two, but still. What a guy. He’s had a hard time of it lately, though, hasn’t he?”

somewhere in this fic tag is the elaborate au of this au in which bdubs accepts scar's job offer and doesn't move in with etho; that one would be circa the 90s and lead into hcs7, so the resonances build in that direction instead of LL. but etho and bdubs go way back, further.

Scar picks up Jellie from the chair behind his desk before settling into it and repositioning her on his lap. “I don’t want to assume since Grian said he didn’t remember the name but the guy was wearing a bright green windbreaker. Terribly inconvenient for a business like mine.”

if, when I'm done, I revise things I'd like to make it more clear here that scar considers his business one of information more than trinkets. the trinkets are a means to an end of getting favors and intel from people! he likes wheeling and dealing more than anything, but the "business like mine" line could be improved. i'm not allowed to revise until it's all published, though.

Etho pockets the little bead. “I’m not signing anything, but if you see Bdubs, will you let him know I held up my end of the bargain?”

a missed opportunity to drive home the resonances here, but this is recalling etho pointedly getting out of signing the contract he makes bdubs sign when he boogey fishing rod kills scar.

Before he can respond, Etho’s phone goes off and Grian visibly startles, hopping back a little bit. Which seems like an overreaction, but Etho does forget how creepy his alarm tone of ominously ringing bells is if you’re not expecting it.

his alarm tone is 13, of course, and it comes up at the board game shop later. incidentally i also for a while set my own feed the cat alarm to 13 when i figured out how to use spotify for phone alarms, and sometimes i still accidentally turn that alarm back on and jumpscare myself irl. i'm very competent.

Bdubs, presumably, will have to come home to sleep at some point and the coffee will ensure Etho is awake to see him. One way or another, they’re going to make this work.

this line is specifically echoing bdubs saying they're gonna make this work during the LL office scene, and will foreshadow what etho does to make things come to a head in the final chapter. but that's spoilers ;)

#peter writes #do it again au #mll au #just chapter 1 and 2 for now bc this got. LONG

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