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synergysilhouette · 3 months

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My Fictif OCs

Despite needing some help with writing, Fictif being bought and ignored by Dorian was a shame and had potential. Here I'd actually like to post about all the MCs I made for each book:

I was inspired by a post where someone was asking for inspiration for their own OC for FTLOG. I make my OCs original depending on the book. While their appearence/background may change, they're always a cis man with a muscular, thicc build. Here's a bit about them, since I don't have the time to give them SUPER detailed backgrounds (especially since I may end up contradicting canon).

Heir to Love and Lies

Cyrus Yehia--a mestizo man of Colombian, Egyptian, and Spanish descent. I picture him with black hair, a nice tan that gets deeper during his time in Columbian, and hazel eyes. I imagine him as being very self-conscious due to not having been in Colombia for years and now having to be there without his abuela. He's a skilled acrobat, and frequently uses it to observe those he's suspicious of. Being of a religious background, he has an affinity with Padre Joya--but that doesn't make him turn a blind eye to suspicious activity. He has a rocky relationship with the three LIs, but admires Val's genuine commitment to her job, Chava's protective nature, and Sergio's cleverness.

Last Legacy

Capricorn Visser--actually his name is Riven, but he was talking about his zodiac sign when he was brought to the world. He's a caucasian man with blonde hair and green eyes, and usually dresses in green or pink (imagine if Barbie and your favorite male lead in a video game had a son). While he's drawn to Saaros, Florian, and Escell, he eventually (thanks to canon) becomes attatched to our LIs. Personality-wise, his self-esteem sucks despite his looks and intellect, and generally bonds with Anissa and Felix due to them being less wild than Sage--but he's still very drawn to him.

Roadkill

Sterling Alenko--In my world, he has a dream of being a screenwriter, and this helps him to bond with Poe. He's also an African-Aborignee-American man known for his cool, stylish fashion that noteably distinguishes him from the casual dress the rest of the LIs wear (though his clothes are still functional). At the end of the show, he wears a romper and tea shades with a bucket hat. He's quite exciteable and thirsts for inspiration, making him somewhat manipulative with people in order to get information. Though downplays his phenomenal skills as an artist due to being indecisive as a child and his parents pressuring him to stay focused on something. He kinda has an existential crisis when finding out supernatural creatures exist and keeps garlic and silver with him at all times (though being the cool guy he is, makes it look fashionable and doesn't arouse any suspicions). I think he tries to undercut Poe's snarkiness and prevent Howie from being objectified when he gets to Hollywood, and recently Tess has taught him how to write songs! Out of laziness, I use the same OC for Snow Falling in Love (unless I change it last minute).

For the Love of Gods

Valens--He's a muscular, curvy man, inspired by Zagreus and Thanatos from the video game Hades. I'd say he has black hair that goes past his shoulders and hot pink eyes. His clothing depends on what aspect of love he embodies: the pure, kind love that everyone wants, as well as the lust, envy, and jealousy that can be caused be love. Currently in my headspace his "love look" has a golden crown headdress (similar to "Ryoma: Supreme Samurai" in "Fire Emblem: Heroes") with a red tunic that has intricate black patterns on it, making it look like moving art, and a black choker on his throat with a picture of Astrellio. He has a silver ring with a moonstone in it and black thighbands on either of his legs. It's beautiful and a little suggestive, but not over the top. He's known for carrying his golden arrows that bring out people's love for each other. In his current "lust" look, his clothes embody a tighter, more exposed look that show off his chest and legs, as well as embodying a pink and purple aesthetic, his pink eyes taking on a glow. His hair takes on a longer, more windswept look. During this time he still uses his gold arrows, but now keeps silver arrows as well--only these ones cause repulsion. It's a reference to the Greek myth of Apollo and Daphne.

Courting the Crown

Avarice Kahale--Ignoring our father's design, I made him an PI-inspired character, explaining the culture as the consequence of colonialism (probably Italian-inspired). He dresses in blues, blacks, and silvers, largely due to still being in his grieving process and still kinda mourning. This distracts him from seeing certain warning signs that occur throughout the story. He's hesitant of Theo's advances given his past, as well as initially being shocked at Maeve's feelings for him. Gwydion's magical world and Rian's mystery makes him drawn to them in particular. There is an instance where Rian seduces him and drugs him to bring him back to Cetros, but when he changes his mind, it makes Avarice jump to his defense whenever anyone speaks ill of him. Before his mourning period, he was very Shikamaru Nara: very smart, but very lazy.

Two Against the World

Florence Chisholm--originally I was gonna name him Florian, but I think Nicky would enjoy the nod to Italy (he's actually of partial Italian descent), which also inspires him to use his grandfather's surname, Angelico. He's an auburn-haired, grey-eyed young man who's the son of lawyers and his fast-talking nature draws Nicky to him. While not into crime like Nicky, he's very charismatic, cheeky, and optimistic like he is, and matches Nicky's passion.

Catch Me in Miami

Arthur Yakushi-Silva--called Arturo by Miguel, his father is an Brazilian immigrant, while his mother is of Japanese heritage (she was born in Brazil, though), he's a quick swimmer and runner, making him a good partner for Miguel. While hesitant of Miguel's criminal activity, his charm and family does eventually convince Arthur to helo get Miguel out of the game, and this sometimes brings out a darker side to his typically bubbly personality.

Hollywoodland

Rudolph Midthunder--A Native American man who I headcanon as going on to being a successful actor (though he occasionally has to get rid of his iconic glasses). He's big on not ruffling feathers, but has developed a passive-aggressive personality as a result of keeping his head down. He originally attempted to pursue a relationship with Liam and Billy, but when he realized how important he was to Celia, he discovered how much he loved her.

Ghosted

Emrys Hye-kyo--a young man and Jesse's crush. Known for his business-chic fashion, no one would've guessed they would've ended up together. Being very reasonable, he's quick to be scared off by Jesse's ghost and solving the mystery, but as his feelings for Jesse grow, he realizes he needs to solve the mystery for both of their pieces of mind.

Monster Manor

Noah Rhineheart--an experienced ghosthunter/investigator who's actually never had relationships before. Known for his distinctive green hair and grey eyes, the residents of the manor at first assume he's a new arrival. He's a quiet listener to Casamir and Rainier's troubles, which makes him worry that they don't really like him for him, so he adapts to make their relationship more equal and conversational in order for their feelings to bloom.

Into the Mist

Galilei--a young elf who falls for Fin. Hmm, there seems to be something missing. Dorian should finish the story to find out more.

Isle of Enchantment

Aeris Tyrian--a young black man yearning for adventure. Due to having several brothers, he bonds with Rogue over trying to find his sister. He is originally intimidated by Serena, but eventually warms up with her following their adventure together. His interest in fair tales makes him jump between awe and eagerness to caution and skepticism, so it was certainly a growing experience.

Lemme know if you have any questions about them!

#fictif #nix hydra #nixhydra #dorian

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sheepalmighty · 1 year

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It turns out I have a bunch of stuff to say on the whole Pixy being called Cinderella by Bristow (Wizard 1) thing. Even though it's been pointed out now and then, and I think its inclusion is something the player would intuitively get and understand in the context of the story and characters, I'd still like to put my reading on this line out there. I’m also hoping this post with help iron out the details for myself.

Firstly, I just want to say I think Wizard 1 respects Pixy and sees him as an important ally and does not need to manipulate him (like it seems his grandiose speech to his group has him otherwise portrayed) - this latter point I'll elaborate on later. I get this take from their conversation in the operation after Excalibur wherein he acknowledges that Pixy's prediction on how the conflict will pan out is accurate. He then prompts Pixy to ditch his 'dead end job' but Pixy declines. It's this conversation that Wizard 1 is calling back to when he calls Pixy Cinderella.

Here he's implying that the clock's struck midnight and the magic has faded. The magic in this case being the illusion that Pixy and his allies are essentially heroes. As such, the illusion is not only that Pixy is playing as someone he is not, which is obvious enough from him always having had ties to AWWNB, it also encompasses Cipher. The prince who had enchanted him is actually the same as everyone else - another soldier led into fighting a pointlessly bloody war. Or perhaps, in firing that missile, he also finally sees Cipher as the Demon Lord, the biggest threat in this conflict, in that moment (I'm also partial to him testing his own resolve). From all of this it can also be said that Wizard 1 is ultimately condemning all of the allies' actions throughout their involvement.

The illusion’s path can be traced back to its origins by looking at Pixy's disposition from around the liberation of Directus until the assault on Excalibur. During the liberation and after hearing the cheering from the civilians his overall tone changes from that of a pragmatic and jaded merc to a 'not bad for a bunch of misfits' positivity after Excalibur. This is the mindset Pixy is in when he tells Wizard 1 that he doesn't want to quit just yet.

During the "pulling" of Excalibur Pixy says to Cipher that Cipher's 'got everyone believing in miracles', but he may have also been swept up in this belief too. This is reminiscent of the previous couple entries that emphasised the lone fighter / squadron inspiring others to believe they can turn the tides of battle, maybe even inspiring the player in the same fashion as those entries (5 is more complicated but the heroism is almost always present). But, in this game, that notion is soon subverted in the double gut punch of The Inferno and The Stage of Apocalypse, and so are any of Pixy's hopes in any other solution and any belief (like Cipher possibly gave him) in being a positive force in this campaign. It hammers in what Pixy already knew but got carried away from.

And so, when Wizard 1 conversed with Pixy the first time he shows that he can't see any good in this conflict (a 'dead end job') but doesn't push back on Pixy declining. Perhaps retrospectively he puts himself in the role of fairy godmother by letting Pixy continue to believe in a positive outcome for this war, to wear the clothes of a hero for a while longer. He makes this decision apparent to us through the Cinderella-fairy godmother back and forth between them the next time they meet. It's coming from the place of a comrade reminding their ally of the ideology they banded together for though, just with some snark.

Finally, with the imagery of a clock striking midnight the concept of the eleventh hour, the time just before the point of no return, is evoked. After Hoffnung has been abandoned and the apocalypse happens it has hit midnight, the magic spell is lifted, and nothing can be changed. The path is set and Pixy has found his reason to fight. So, the way I see it, with a single line the Cinderella association pulls a lot of purposefully written theming, characterisation, and commentary together in an effective manner. It helps carry weighty implications in an already overwhelming and powerful moment of the game and, as has been hopefully shown above, provides some extra understanding of the commentary being made by this game through some introspection of prior events by the player.

A couple asides: Bristow's into literature so that provides a little more context to the whole Cinderella usage, though it's only in auxiliary text I think. If looking at it from a writer’s perspective maybe one reason Cinderella was chosen was for the imagery of Pixy running away after he sheds any pretense of being just another passive soldier. And, related to Pixy's Morgan le Fay parallel, Bristow's callsign may be Lucan (servant to King Arthur) but, after an admittedly short read on Arthurian legends, he can also be seen as Merlin who respected Morgan le Fay and taught her magic, and later conspired against Arthur with her.

#i dont have it in me to write like a normal person im sorry #its more than ive written in a long while and its a little messy #im really going off of memory with the quotes so hoping theyre accurate enough #this post doesnt even touch on why i like wiz1 as an antagonist so lemme just put that here #its that battle against him where youre on the knight path #youd think on the honourable path youd fight someone similar but everything in that fight is underhanded and disconcerting #kinda like hes taking advantage of that pride pixy tells cipher would get him killed #and with the way he talks he is like the opposite of pixy who does everything he can to survive while wiz1 #considers being able to get a double takedown against cipher a good way to go out #i really like the writing and gameplay narrative in this game guys #ace combat zero #anyway yeah my ultimate ultimate point is that wiz1 and pixy are queer and friends and snark about other people every chance they get

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rosethornxs · 2 years

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So, I hit 500 yesterday. I truly did not expect this to happen so quickly. Thank you all so much for your support! In order to express my gratitude to you all, I am opening up drabble requests!

I have compiled a list of dialogue prompts under the cut for you to choose from. Send in a request, following the rules below. I will write a short drabble for you between 500-800 words (I’ll try to make them all as equal as possible in order to be fair to everyone but some prompts will probably inspire me more than others).

To participate, send me an ask with:

Up to 2 prompts from the list below.

A character you’d like me to write for. Your options are:

Boba Fett

Din Djarin

Cassian Andor

Will Miller

Frankie Morales

Oberyn Martell

You may also suggest other Pedro Boys or Star Wars characters (once again, I have not seen The Clone Wars, Rebels, or The Bad Batch, and I have not seen The Mentalist, We Can be Heroes, or Wonderwoman 1984) but I recommend choosing from the list above because I’m more comfortable writing for them. You are welcome to send more than one character and I’ll just pick whoever I’m most inspired to write for based on the prompt.

Whether you’d like it to be smutty or not. Most of the prompts are smutty cuz that’s what I like to write but there are a few fluffier prompts if that’s not your thing.

Which pronouns you’d like me to use. I am most comfortable writing Fem!Reader but I can do GN!Reader too! I don’t have any experience writing Masc!Reader but I can certainly try!

Any triggers you have or topics and kinks you’d like me to avoid.

Optional: Anything else you want me to include in the request. The general vibe you want the it to have. Any mood or aesthetic you want it to have. Kinks you’d like me to include.

A few other things:

I reserve the right to decline any requests I am not comfortable with, I shouldn’t have to do that because I made the prompt list myself and I am comfortable with all of them, however, I will not write breath-play, impact-play (except spanking), bondage, or daddy kink. If you do send a request I’m not comfortable writing I will give you the opportunity to revise your original request.

Please be patient with me! While I don’t have to worry about school anymore, and I barely leave the house, I am still human and I get writer’s block and bored of writing, or simply just don’t feel like it sometimes. I promise I will do my best to fulfil every request I get but I can’t promise to do it in a timely manner.

I’ll do my best to give you what you ask for but I might change up the wording of the prompts slightly to better fit my own writing style.

Prompt Options:

“Don’t give me that look.”

“Would you just shut up and kiss me already?”

“Like what you see?”

“Try to stay quiet, understand?”

“No, I’m supposed to be making you feel good.”

“Make me.”

“Stop teasing me so much.”

“Take off your clothes.”

“I’m waiting.”

“Mine.”

“We can’t do that here!”

“Behave.”

“Come here.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Could he make you feel as good as I do?”

“I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice.”

“Want some help?”

“We’re not just friends and you fucking know it.”

“What? Does that feel good?”

“We have to be quiet.”

“Tell me again.”

“You have no idea how much I want you.”

“Say it.”

“How do I look?”

“I’ll just have to cum inside you then.”

“Stop distracting me.”

“Were you touching yourself?”

“Touch yourself for me."

“You take my fingers so well, don't you?"

“Are you wearing my shirt?"

“You'd better be quiet or everyone's going to know what a naughty little slut you are."

“Suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me."

“Such a needy little thing, aren't you?"

"I love the sounds you make when you come undone."

“I guess I'll just get off all by myself."

“Let me show you how much I missed you."

“So desperate for it, aren't you?”

“Open your mouth."

“I'm gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, I want you to see how pretty you look when you're spreading your legs for me."

“Yeah, that's it, baby, just like that."

"Mmm, good morning to you too."

“Do you think of me when you touch yourself?”

“Don’t stop.”

“My office, right now.”

“I bought a few pieces of lingerie. want me to model for you?”

“Oh don’t mind me I’m just enjoying the view”

“I want you to touch yourself”

“Don’t be shy now.”

“Come for me [nickname].”

“Look at me.”

“You don’t know what you do to me do you?”

“I want to feel like this forever.”

“You give me a reason to do better, to be better.”

“God, you’re so fucking cute.”

“Your hair is so soft.”

“It’s too cold. Come back!”

“No. I’m not letting you go it’s too early to get out of bed.”

“Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.”

“No no— it’s alright come here.”

“I’m in love with you.”

“Can I touch you.”

“I missed you so much.”

“You’re comfy.”

“It’s okay I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“I don’t like storms.”

“Dance with me.”

“It looks good on you.”

“I’ll take the couch.”

“I’m quite comfortable here.”

“Are you hurt? What happened?”

“I could never get tired of you.”

“Do you miss me?”

“God, look at you.”

“Use your words.”

“I need you.”

Prompt sources: X X X X X X X

Tagging some beloved mutuals (feel free to ignore, no hard feelings): @zinzinina @wyn-n-tonic @keeper0fthestars @moonlight-prose @jangofctts @janghoefett @saradika @thefact0rygirl @bunniesofsteel @thesithformerlyknownaskenobi

#rose's 500 follower drabbles #rose's 500 follower celebration #follower milestone #rose reaches a milestone #writing prompts

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otterskin · 3 years

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Dumb Details From the Loki Trailer I noticed but then got too serious about

First - apparently it’s not a trailer, so I guess we’ll get ‘Trailer 1′ later? ‘Exclusive Clip’ hardly seems accurate, but hey, I’m not Disney’s marketing division. I wouldn’t live in a shoebox if I was.

Dumb detail no. 1:

Owen Wilson’s jacket is...weird. Look closely.

And another shot:

Yeah...his jacket has a ‘reversed collar’. It’s a cut-out rather than cloth folding on top. Huh. What a strange design choice. What could it mean?

I’ve no idea, but that I watched the trailer enough times to notice this should concern you.

Detail No. 2

In this scene, we see what we can presume to be President Loki’s ‘Throne’. Notice the candy-canes. This is a Santa Claus throne, presumably from some mall Santa. This whole place might be in a mall, judging by the stuff in it.

But the Loki in this shot is not President Loki. Notice that he’s wearing brown pants, a thin brown tie, and the beige shirt he’s seen wearing in other parts of the trailer after he's apparently joined the TVA. President Loki wears black pants, a green vest and a wide green tie with a golden clip that resembles Loki’s little chevron he always has (more on that later).

So it would seem that Loki might meet President Loki here. President Loki might even be addressing him at the end of the trailer. It’s possible that his minions turn on him because there’s two Lokis and they don’t know which is the ‘imposter’.

Speaking of, there’s a minion with bicycle handlebars grafted to a football helmet here, likely meant to resemble Loki. I dig it. There’s also cans of food scattered among the rubbish here. Makes sense that food production is non-existent since everyone has resorted to wearing license plates and spoons. Love how tattered the whole aesthetic is.

This reminds me of the opening Michael Waldron’s script ‘Worst Guy of All Time’, which featured a similar post-apocalyptic setting after the ‘worst guy’ ruins everything and makes himself king of the ashes. That’s likely what’s happened here, but I hope that Loki isn’t anything like Logan Paul, who was the inspiration for that title character.

Ah, the mysterious female character watching a meteor shower WAY TOO CLOSE UP. But my eyes are drawn to one thing...

What is that oblong object with a shiny handle? Could it be...

A sword? I do love swords. Did you know there’s a bunch of pictures of me in the stock photos for ‘Fencing?’ That’s my cred for loving swords.

I suspect that this female character will be an amalgamation of Amora (shudder) and Sylvie and an alternate Loki of some kind. This sword is currently in her possession, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it or another timeline version of it becomes the Loki Show’s Loki′s weapon.

Loki has lacked a ‘weapon of his own’ in the MCU for quite some time. I mean, yes, he has his little knives, but they are many and disposable and something he chose for himself, rather than the two legendary weapons wielded by Odin and Thor, Gungnir and Mjolnir. In fact, throughout his appearances, Loki has seemed to want such a thing of his own - he briefly had Gungnir, and then the Gungnir-like scepter, and even tried to lift Mjolnir.

One might ask why Odin would’ve overlooked such an obvious show of favouritism. Why give Thor a storied weapon and leave Loki empty-handed? Heck, even Hela had the Necroblade.

In Thor 1, we might’ve assumed that the Casket of Ancient Winters was perhaps intended one day to be given to Loki, as it is shown with Mjolnir in the Vault and thus connected to it and the children who would inherit it. But in the comics, Odin did have another weapon of storied history put away for his second son: Gram the Sword.

It was locked for eons by Odin in a special vault which required five keys to be opened, and it was meant to be for Loki if he be worthy.[2] The five keys were infused by Odin with the powers of "journeys", "endurance", "secrets", "new beginnings", and "brotherhood", respectively.[3]

The sword, like everything else in comics, has a complicated history full of take-backs and twists, but let’s just leave it at ‘it’s a representation of Loki’s worthiness and belonging in the trifecta with Odin and Thor as a King of Asgard’. It gives him ‘equality’.

In the original mythology, it’s wielded by Sigurd to kill the dragon Fafnir, and the only relation it has to Loki is that Loki is partially responsible for Fafnir existing in the first place (my username is nod to this myth by the by. Sorry Ottär.) But hey, maybe that means we’re getting a dragon? The Fafnir would be very cool.

Or it could just be a bit of rebar in this mining quarry.

Then again...it appears somewhere else...

It’s easier to see in motion, but that’s a sword swinging on this person’s back.

So the hooded figure is this lady...shall we call her Amylkie? Does that mean she’s the antagonist of this show? Well...maybe, but I suspect the true antagonist is foreshadowed here -

So, what’s going on here? A young girl (Young Amylkie? Some other TVA prisoner that the guard is watching over? An oracle, A Norn, or a kid who wandered off from the tour group in a basilica somewhere?) She’s giving Mobius M. Mobius a...piece of chocolate. Maybe he saw a Dementor, I dunno. I suspect it’ll be a MacGuffin of some kind later. He looks pretty concerned here, which contrasts with his ‘another day at the office’ blaséness when dealing with Loki. But of course this is the eye-catcher:

So, Norse Mythology. It’s been Christiannized. You can thank Snorri Sturluson for that, but you can google all about him later. Let’s just say that he made many Norse figures into equivalents for Christian ones. Baldur is Jesus, pure and a sacrificial lamb who dies for a greater good. And the devil is...Loki. Something the Marvel comics and the MCU have continued.

Here we have a devil, dressed in green and with a distinct shape on his chest:

Hmmm...wait...I know that weird horny shape...

Ah. I’d say that cinches it. This is meant to be Loki. If you look at the devil’s hair, it also resembles Loki’s, being shoulder-length and black.

So, what’s devil-Loki doing? Laying an egg? Trying out a foot massager? For a second I thought it was a moon, but we see the moon over his left shoulder, amongst the stars. Which means this is - probably the Earth.

...Dammit; I live there.

So Earth is barren and being devoured by flames, likely caused by this Loki sitting atop of it (in a throne, no less). Aw gee, things look pretty bad, don’t they?

But wait - what’s that? Under the Earth (and, possibly, under the earth)?

It’s a plant. A shoot, to be exact.

Back to Ragnarok for a second. Ragnarok isn’t the apocalypse (something we see a lot of in this trailer - all of it seems to be exploring the end of days). Ragnarok is the fire meant to wipe out the old and fertilize the ground for the new. And after the gods have died, what happens? Well, Baldur emerges from Hel, one of the only surviving gods (hmm, seems him dying worked out, didn’t it?). He’s joined by Líf and Lífþrasir, who are the new first man and woman, who’s names mean ‘Life’ and who are pictured, usually, with plants and new life. It is they who are tasked who growing a new Yggdrasil after the destruction of the old. The previous first man and woman are Ask and Embla, meaning Ash Tree and Vine/Elm tree, so there’s a theme there.

So a new sprout, possibly a tree, growing out of the destruction of the old.

This fits with Loki’s role as understood in mythology. He checks the arrogance of the gods, including when they tried to achieve immortality (sorry, Baldur, nothing personal), and that keeps the gods at their best. After Loki is imprisoned, the gods become weak, unhelpful and foolish, and Yggdrasil starts to rot. Eventually Loki escapes and returns along with Surtur (who also resembles this figure) to burn it all to the ground. This is also referenced in Thor:Ragnarok, with Loki releasing Surtur in the Vault, a place of thematic importance to Loki and one that represents the hidden secrets and sins of Asgard). You could say Ragnarok continued into Infinity War, where Loki played an important part in aiding Thanos’ destruction, giving up the stone to protect his brother and essentially dooming the rest of the universe - but also ultimately leading to its salvation, even if, like Myth Loki, he wasn’t around to see it.

So, we see Amylkie literally start a fire in the trailer -

- in fact, this whole trailer is awash in flame -

It’s fire, fire everywhere and she’s setting them!

It’s possible Amylkie’s our big bad, but I think there’s a chance she’s either a red herring, or, much like how Loki ‘worked’ with Thanos in The Avengers, she is the pawn of a greater foe -

- a Loki bent on destruction, for some reason or other. The TVA is obviously aware that this is the case, and it seems like they might be trying to ‘fight fire with fire’ by enlisting one Loki to combat another. The villain could be President Loki, since there's evidence of 2 Lokis in that scene - or maybe that's one of many Lokis, and the Big Bad Loki is being played by Hugh Grant as Old Loki. In any case, it would appear that Loki will be coming face-to-face with the worst versions of himself, and many of them. And, if I’m right about this scene:

...Loki will likely eventually discover that even his ‘good’ timeline ended in the destruction of his people and home, plus his own gruesome and torturous death. Although I think the TVA will keep that from him, and just show him the happy parts in an effort to inspire ‘good behaviour’. Until Loki inevitably discovers the rest of how that timeline played out and realize he’s been lied to. I don’t imagine he’ll take that very well...

Damn, even our ‘hero’ Loki is burning stuff down! Does this mean that Loki is doomed, always meant to be an avatar of death and toasty destruction?

Well...let’s go back to that stained glass.

Hmmm...wait...I know that weird horny shape...

And there’s something else...the bottom of the Earth is being lit up, and not by fire. Light appears to be coming off this little plant.

What colour is this plant again? That’s right, green. Green is the colour of new life and growth and change and...hang on, I’ve heard that before, too...

Hang on hang on HANG ON... let me have a look at the shape again.

That’s...a letter. An L? For Loki? Like in the title sequence?

Wait...no, a different letter. An older letter. After all, Loki is old Norse. How do you spell his name in that again?

ᛚᛟᚲ ᛁ -

And ENHANCE on that third letter!

This, my friends, is a Kenaz/Kaunaz, or what would become 'K' in our alphabet. It is also known as the 'Loki Rune' (and the Ulcer Rune, for some reason. I suspect Odin understands why). It’s used to spell his name, but is also used on his own to represent him. Heck, it's even his Superman 'S' in the comics:

Runes are more than letters - they are symbols for concepts. So what else does it mean?

Primarly, it means ‘torch’.

And also ‘knowledge’ (ken). As well as ‘growth, change, the search for truth, decay, arrogance, elitism, feminine, kinship and creativity.’

...Okay, that’s a lot, but you have to admit it fits.

More specifically, it means ‘Mastery of the Fire’. As in, someone who has learned to tame fire so that it is helpful, not harmful. To bring light and, symbolically, knowledge.

There’s another way Loki’s been associated with fire - in the Wagner Ring Cycle, Das Rheingold, the opera that inspired much the Thor films’ aesthetic and certainly their helmets, Loki is called ‘Loge’, which means ‘Fire’. He’s usually dressed to match, too -

Many trickster figures are associated with fire. They are usually called ‘Fire-bringers’ - See: Raven, Lucifer, Prometheus, etc. They are often complex figures with a foot in different worlds, but who nonetheless help mankind with the gift of ‘fire’ - although they usually pay for it, and tend to be self-destructive.

(Side note. Lucifer means light-bringer, which is what luciferase is named after. Because it glows. Which is helpful in labs. In case someone needed to know that.)

Moving from a destructive fire-starter to a fire-bringer seems like a great character arc for Loki to take, especially given his rehabilitation in pop culture, the comics, and even wider culture. Loki has gone from being seen as an evil, deviant, destructive character to one who’s seen as a patron of the arts and creativity, of stories rather than lies. Heck, some scholars of Norse Mythology even posit that he’s the closet thing to a protagonist Norse Mythology has, so I guess that backfired, Snorri!). Being dressed in green and with the sprout clearly also being stylized after his Kaunaz, there’s foreshadowing that he’ll be capable of growing good things even out of ashes.

So, to sum up: Being ‘Satan’ sounds pretty bad, but with a little letter re-arranging like we see in the title sequence, you can be...

...practically a saint. Maybe even a saviour.

Merry Christmas, everybody.

#loki #trailer #details #meta #theories #theory #explanation #thor #tva #santa #devil #snorri sturluson whinging #christmas #fire #kaunaz #loki trailer

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wishingicouldfly · 3 years

Text

I've been actively blogging for more than six months, even though I've had a tumblr account for ten years. I started reading One Direction (specifically Larry) fanfiction about the same time.

Originally, I read exclusively canon compliant fiction--I was hungry for industry insider, what-could-have-happened narratives. But I've slowly branched out into other genres. I find fanfic--good fanfic--super calming. When I've had too much stunting, too much noise, I grab a fanfic and immerse myself. So I thought it was time to do a post about my favorites. Keep in mind, I'm terrible at cataloging, and I have over 150 bookmarks on my A03 Account, so this is by no means an exhaustive list.

I'm not including the classics like Tired, Tired Sea and Escapade. While I do love both of those (so well written), because a lot of people know about those already.

My all time favorites are by @helloamhere

1. The Multipicity of Powers - https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580229

Maybe in another universe he isn’t different. Maybe he hadn’t been given an impossible choice. Maybe he wouldn’t have lost everything and broken everything and then fallen impossibly, irrevocably in love with the first next thing that was kind. Maybe in that universe he doesn’t feel like he’s never breathing, always pretending, teaching the kids even though they all have to learn alone, trying hard not to read the headlines, and so afraid, every day, that he won’t be a good enough teammate to the superhero he can’t live without. He knows that love isn’t supposed to feel this way, slid secret under your skin like a surgical razor, an invisible war held close over the tender vein that keeps you alive. On the other hand, Louis wonders, had he ever known how to do it any other way?

Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside.

But this isn’t that universe.

//an X-Men AU.

Me: I never thought I'd love a super hero 1D cross over, but this is so well done. The backstory, the pacing, the characterization, the friendship. Read it.

2. Saving Symphony Hall and it's prequel Night Out - https://archiveofourown.org/works/12633921

“I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.”

“Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.”

“Wait, what?” Zayn asked.

“Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,”

“What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand.

“I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.”

“That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”

Me: The best sex scene I've ever read is in the prequel Night Out. Sexy, but tender. I love the characterizations in this duo--ABO but not traditional. Doesn't feel out of character.

3. Just Let Me -https://archiveofourown.org/works/11695350

The party was going well. So well, Niall had already sworn undying love to one multi-tiered chocolate cake, two friendly corgi-poodle mixes, Zayn’s hair, and the entire population of Los Angeles. So well, Zayn had only laughed and ruffled Niall’s hair and not even twitched towards a cigarette. So well, nearly everyone had spilled far past the boundaries of the night’s original plans, extracting bottles of vodka from the cabinets and losing a lot of clothes. Harry had proclaimed that he was finally going to throw a small and very grownup dinner party and of course here they were three hours later, fifty people half-naked in the pool. Soon to be full-naked, if Louis had to guess. Everybody in LA loved a heated pool. Everybody loved Harry.

Me: I love love love this. Harry is so gentle, and Louis is so stubborn and needy. It's ABO but subtle. I'll read this one again and again. It's comforting.

@HelloAmHere is one of the best writers I know--amazing stuff. I also love their werewolf story, but it's not finished, so I won't link it here.

Other favorites:

1. Seven Up by cherrystreet - https://archiveofourown.org/works/5828539

Very loosely based on the British TV show "The Up Series" and somewhat inspired by the song “Something I Need” by Onerepublic, we follow the lives of Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson in an interview setting every seven years. They fall apart and come together, their lives and emotions recorded. Harry calls it a time capsule. Louis calls it a pain in the arse.

Me: Trigger Warning, major character death. I literally SOBBED through the end of this. It was lovely and devastating. So good. But be warned.

2. Light, Spark and Fire series by @greenfeelings

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Louis and Zayn run a music label, Liam is Britain’s up-and-coming pop star, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down until he builds his own up, and Niall holds them all together without realising he does.

Me: A nice healthy three-parter. Characters you just want to live with for a while.

3. Relief Next to Me by dolce_piccante - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117942

AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.

Me: This one is super long, so be prepared when you dive in. It's got a lot of lovely bits, and some great smut.

4. 2012 'Verse by ashavahishta - https://archiveofourown.org/series/27601

Me: This is a five-parter and satisfies my love of canon compliant stories. It spans most of 2012 and into 2013, and illustrates the difficulties of Harry and Louis' relationship amid the band success and management disapproval.

5. Love After the End of the World by mercurial-madhouse (writing_practice) - https://archiveofourown.org/works/31251434/chapters/77248901

Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda.

When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

Me: Really unusual (as far as I can tell) end of the world story. I loved the characterizations of soul mates here at the end of the world.

6. Flightless Bird by audreyhheart - https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401653/chapters/14656807

AU where Louis Tomlinson is a principal dancer with The Royal Ballet. When his rival from ballet school, moody dance prodigy Harry Styles joins the company, old wounds are reopened and old passions reignited. During the company's production of Swan Lake the secret that doomed their love is finally revealed, but will it be too late?

Me: Trigger Warning, sexual assault (by an original character to a major character). This was a little brutal because I hated to see a broken Harry, but it was well written and has a happy ending.

7. Wear It Like A Crown by zarah5 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1816771/chapters/3900322

AU. As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. Never mind that the very same Prince Harry used to star in quite a number of Louis' teenage fantasies.

Me: I loved Louis in this one--actually they are both pretty great. Scratch that, they are ALL pretty great.

8. Shake Me Down by AGreatPerhaps12 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331958/chapters/7285322

Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.

Me: I don't like the self-hate here, but it was necessary for the story and H comes around. Found family vibe.

9. Gods & Monsters by Velvetoscar - https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090982/chapters/4550871

The instructions were simple: seduce and destroy Harry Styles. Not once did they discuss the option of Louis actually falling in love. So, naturally, that's exactly what he did.

Me: I loved Harry in this one. Louis gets there. I don't like Liam, but I don't think you're supposed to. Zayn is great.

10. Own the Scars by crinkle-eyed-boo (KimmieRocks) - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1010796

Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.

Me: Harry is lovely in this one. Trigger warning, substance abuse and near death.

11. Wild Love by purpledaisy - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1030904

AU: Two best friends try to date each other for forty days. It's supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated.

Me: I loved this way more than I thought I would. It's lovely and messy and I love it.

12. Victorian Boy by audreyhheart - https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosann1986/readings?page=6

Victorian AU. Harry the virgin Duke of Somerset knows little of love, while Louis the sly Duke of Warwick knows too much. When the two dukes come together for the Bilsdale fox hunt in York, Harry finds himself drawn into Louis' bed. But when secrets from Louis' dark past come to light, Harry fears that the fox isn't the only one being hunted.

Me: Historical fiction I didn't intend to love. I LOVE Harry in this one. LOTS of smut, so be warned.

13. Keep Me Closer by zanni_scaramouche - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30752633

Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.

What he doesn’t expect is Harry to fucking drop.

Me: lovely, protective Louis just trying to do the right thing.

14. Turning Page by purpledaisy for SockstheDog

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11826345

AU: Harry Styles tries to get lost in a place he’s never been. Louis Tomlinson has been perfecting the art of being lost for years. What they don’t expect to find is each other.

Me: sweet love story. Niall owns a bar, and is pretty great.

15. Freedom Always Comes With a Price by Cyantific - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30278514/chapters/74624262

A shared dream brings them together onto the X-factor stage, but one decision changes Harry and Louis’ lives overnight. Thrust into a world of instant stardom, they're forced to live a lie to sustain their dreams, but years of living in the shadows and under strict management takes its toll.

With the bands impending hiatus, there’s no better time for change, so they think.

Desperate for a solution, they turn to an unlikely source with a radical plan. An unfortunate accident sets everything in motion, but not how they intended, leaving Louis’ memories altered, Harry broken-hearted and full of regret.

Can Harry figure out a way to fix everything? Will he even want to once he sees how Louis moved on after the hiatus? Will Louis ever find out the truth of their past and can he forgive Harry after all this time?

In the end, two friends find out that memories are elusive, trust is everything and love is the only antidote.

Me: Heartbreaking when they lose each other, but really good in the end.

16. Little Technicolor Things by scary_crow - https://archiveofourown.org/works/6025519/chapters/13821628

Louis is a poor writer and recent university graduate, depressed, anxious, and living in London when he meets Harry, an artist with a secret who likes to paint sunrises and pretty boys from California.

17. Hold You Now by solvetheminourdreams - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30253536/chapters/74556744

Three years ago, Harry Styles said goodbye to communications consultancy firm McQuiston Worldwide, leaving a life of travel and agency PR behind. When he accompanies his best friend to a family wedding across the Atlantic, he'll be forced to reopen old wounds and face his past—one that no one wants to hash out, but may just have to.

Me: Niall is great. They almost miss each other in this one, and you just want to bash them over the head. But they figure it out.

18. At Risk, I Fold by clare328 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/26542480

2015 is a stream of hotel rooms and whisky on the rocks, tired glances and touching hands under tables. It’s the bears and the bees under a rainbow sky, and Harry and Louis have to figure out how to grow up together, instead of apart.

Me: A canon compliant fic that feels like it could have really happened. Set in 2015. Lovely first chapter and scene where Harry writes If I Could Fly--i could read that chapter over and over.

19. Into The Blue by zarah5 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035822/chapters/2065499

AU. In which Louis is Harry's scuba instructor and quite happy to provide the requested special treatment, pun fully intended. It can't be all that difficult to convince Harry that they're on the same page, right? Also, Niall and Liam may or may not be dating, and Zayn is surrounded by emotionally stunted idiots. He bears it with dignity.

Me: AKA the Scuba fic.

20. Tie Your Heart by ArcadianMaggie - https://archiveofourown.org/works/546688/chapters/973236

Harry grows wings.

Me: How can you not love a fic where Harry grows wings? Trigger warning: injury of a major character.

21. I think I'll end this here. My last and probably first favorite (read it more than once) is...

my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach - https://archiveofourown.org/works/934996/chapters/1820282

When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old.

Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they're put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn't know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry's always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.

A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.

Me: I LOVED the Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, and I'm a huge fan of time travel, so this is right up my alley. It's really well done, weaving canon into fantasy and then going years forward in tme. I love everything about it. Great character development. Really good smut. Trigger warning, there's a little underage sex, so be aware. Anyway, LOVE this one so much.

I'll add to this but it's already longer than I meant it to be.

#fanfic #recommendations #fic suggestions #my favorites #Larry fics #I love the love

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wildernessuntothemselves · 3 years

Text

The Last Exhale | Prologue

Summary: The honest and hardworking poor girl finds love in the arms of the rebellious and charming rich boy, and despite all odds, their love prevails and their inspiring story gets its fairytale ending when the two tie the knot, cementing their love under the sacred vows of marriage. Except real life isn’t a drama, and the story doesn’t end here for our protagonists who, instead of being the heroes they set out to be, end up taking on the role of the villain in each other’s life story.

Word Count: 1.5k

Genre: Angst, slight smut

Warnings: substance use, domestic violence, choking, bj

A/N: if you feel like you’ve read this as a bts fic before dw I’m the original author trying to continue it as a skz fic. Hopefully I can succeed in that. The general concept of this fic is that each chapter is based on a specific song and set in alternating POVs between the MC and the member so you can see their differing opinions and takes on each event and highlight how biased every person’s perception is.

Song and title of the prologue: Back to Black

POV of this chapter: 3rd person

The member in this story isn’t decided yet so please help me decide by voting between Chan and Lix. And if you can give me a reason for either member that would favor your choice being picked.

____________________

“I can’t believe you just stood there and let your parents humiliate me like that.” She shouts at him, not caring that the entire house staff can hear her argument with her husband.

“But I thought you were a strong woman, an Amazon, who doesn’t need my help.” He mocks her cheerfully.

She grits her teeth together so hard she thinks she could taste the pulverized bone on her tongue. “There is a difference between treating me like a prized show horse and coming to my aid when I genuinely need you.”

He cracks up. “Look at what you’re wearing! A show horse is worth more than your entire life, baby.”

She slaps him. At any other time, He would’ve returned the favor but not right now.

“Ohh, baby, are you in that mood again?” He places a hand on her ass, pulling her up against him. “Told you that you wouldn’t be able to stop for long. It feels good doesn’t it, punishing me? Hurting me? But that’s ok, I like it too. Hit me more.”

All colors drain from her face. That was a mistake. A colossal, fucked up mistake. It was during the worst time of her life, a time where she would’ve killed herself if he’d only left her alone for a second, but he just wouldn’t leave. And before she even knew what she was doing, as if she had blacked out, she was striking him, over and over again. It had started as a way to get him to leave so she can finally do it, she remembers now, but along the way, it morphed into a sick redirection of all her anger and remorse onto him, and instead of leaving or shouting or fighting back, he let her. He stood there, head bowed, and neck bared--and god help her, that only made her hit him more. But it was over now, and she would never go back to being that monster again.

A crazed laugh snaps her attention back to the source of all her torment who was staring at her with a euphoric smile on his face. “What do you say, babe?”

“Are you fucking high? You couldn’t even stay sober one night for me?” She pushed him off. She had specifically requested that he doesn’t do coke today so he can stay alert and by her side at his parent’s dinner party, but what did she really expect from him?

“You can’t blame me when you insist on embarrassing me in front of everyone I know.” She gives him a confused look and he comes up to her and tugs harshly on her dress, ripping a piece right off. “What is this shit? Why couldn’t you just let me buy you something nice to wear? How do you think it makes me feel when people see that my wife dresses cheaper than one of my father’s whores?”

She is about to slap him again but he catches her hand this time. “Not all of us have fathers who can get us what we want before we even think it up.”

“But you have me. Let me take care of you.” He puts his hands on her upper arms and searches her eyes. “Just like I used to before.”

“And have your parents think that they were right about me? That I was a gold digger all along.” She shakes his hands off of her. “And even if I do that, what happens after your father dies and your brother takes control of the company and throws you out. How will you take care of me then? You’re doing nothing to secure your place in the company and soon we will be out on the streets. What are you doing to prevent that? Going to parties and driving your expensive cars around with your friends, denying like a child that your father will ever die?”

“Well maybe if you weren’t such an uptight cunt, we could’ve worked together to find a solution instead of you spending all of your energy on constantly tearing me down and saying how useless I am.” The words held a lot of meaning but her husband’s tone was lightheartedly insane, and that stupid euphoric grin was still plastered on his face.

She could easily argue back that he wasn’t such an angel himself and that he always treated her like she were inferior to him and spoke down to her whenever she tried to suggest something that could help, always making sure to point out that she had no idea what she was talking about because she’s just a cook’s daughter.

But it was useless. He’s high out of his fucking mind and they’ve had the same argument a thousand times before. She turns her back to him and heads up the elegant marble stairway of the outrageously expensive house, looking to wash the night’s events off of herself.

“Fine, just walk away from me after you’ve ruined my fucking buzz,” He shouts up at her, but she’s sure she didn’t really. He’ll be in bliss for hours still while she sits in bed contemplating how in the world she ended up like this.

They used to be so happy before. Nothing could ever dim the love they had for each other, not his parents’ disapproval nor their different backgrounds. They were different people when they were together. They changed just for each other, and they vowed on their wedding day that they wouldn’t let anything come between them.

But the years proved them wrong. They never changed at all. They just came back full circle, and hard. The differences between them became more apparent than ever and as the years went by, they stopped seeing from the other person’s point of view and became more unyielding in their own opinions than even the people that stood in their way in the past were.

So where do they go from this?

The sound of feet dragging heavily across the floor as someone makes their way slowly down the hall would surely frighten anyone, but she doesn’t even flinch. She knew it was her husband finally back home after disappearing for hours like always.

The sound continues for a few minutes until it stops just behind her, and she turns away from the window of her little alcove to look at him. She takes his appearance in, hair and clothes disheveled and a dark aura about him. She holds the joint in between her lips and reaches out to him, looping her thumbs through the waistband of his pants and pulling him close to her before unbuttoning them and pulling them down to his thighs along with his boxers.

There on the inner side of his boxers was the evidence of his night out, dried cum and pussy juices. He didn’t even bother cleaning himself up or changing his underwear before coming to her. He wanted her to know.

She takes a deep breath from the joint and turns her back to him again, blowing out the smoke through the open window.

He never liked when she ignored him. He doesn’t like that at all. He reaches forward and snatches the joint out of her hand and snuffs it out violently with his boot. His high is very obviously over. She’s relaxed now and he’s the one on edge.

The cool gaze she regards him with pisses him off more and he grabs her by the hair and pulls her down to his dick, “Suck.”

He wanted her to taste that woman on him. He wanted to humiliate her. He wanted to hurt her, but all she felt was numbness.

He is not gentle with her, those days were long over. He moves her around like a ragdoll over his cock, thrusting it down her throat and not stopping even when he hears her gagging around him and clawing at his thighs. Instead, he pinches her nose, cutting off her oxygen supply completely.

“Should I let you die like this? No court would dare condemn me, my father would see to that.” He growls, taunting her with his father’s power the same way she belittled him for it earlier. “It’s what a cheap bitch like you deserves for not knowing her place with her master.”

Her face was turning blue, and her throat was constricting vigorously around her husband’s cock, fighting to let a breath in but only increasing his pleasure. She hears him moaning and grunting above her but she can’t see him through her rapidly blurring vision.

She doesn’t know if he knew just when to stop or if it was a stroke of luck but right as she thought she was about to pass out, he pulls his cock out of her mouth and stops pinching her nose. She falls forward on the floor at his feet, coughing and sputtering, and he watches her from above while he gives himself those last few strokes before cumming all over her. Some of it lands on her face, some on her hair, some on her clothes…In the end, she looks as much of a mess as she feels she is inside.

Despite having nothing obstructing her airway anymore, her lungs still couldn’t believe it, heaving in huge gulps of air as if the supply would be cut off again at any moment.

Her husband tucks himself back into his pants before crouching down over her. He holds her chin in his hand causing more of the cum stuck to his palm to mess up her face. “Why do you have to make me do this, baby? You know that I love you.”

His voice sounded so hurt and sincere that she couldn’t stop yourself from spitting in his face. What did it matter that he loved her, that she loved him, when it wasn’t enough anymore? “You’re nothing to me.”

He retaliates by slapping her, sending her crashing against the floor from the powerful blow. “I’ll make you yield, you’ll see, and then we’ll be happy again.”

He walks away and she stares after him with a hatred that taints her very soul. How was it possible for the human heart to contain so much hate and love for the same person without just giving up?

_______

A/N: before I put this fic on hiatus, I had posted 4 (very long) chapters. I will be reposting one every week and hopefully by then I would’ve written chapter 5.

#stray kids smut #bang chan smut #felix smut

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five-rivers · 3 years

Note

The "Young Yagi Toshinori|All Might on ao3 covers everything from him being a toddler to just pre-organ-loss so just-got-ofa-teen Toshi is smol enough. (Altho elementary-school-age Toshi ruining some villain's day would be hilarious and awesome) The into mind plot sounds awesome and I'm looking forward to it. Blackwhip -Vigilante- Underground Hero Yagi (and Izu) sounds like a ride!

Sir, you have inspired me. Have some elementary school Toshinori.

Shimura Nana was having A Day.

First, she’d woken up with her bones aching, a side effect of all the microfractures she’d given herself while getting used to One for All. Second, she’d discovered she was out of painkillers. Third, the convenience store she usually frequented for such matters had been collateral in a villain fight earlier that week, so she’d had to jog to the nearest grocery store (her license level didn’t cover quirk use for personal matters). Fourth, the grocery store didn’t sell her usual brand, so now she was stuck deciding between the grocery store’s generics, of unknown quality, and a slightly more expensive brand she knew would mostly work but tended to make her drowsy. The more expensive and effective brands were a little out of the price range of a person like her.

A person like her being a recently licensed aboveground sidekick who was trying to stay out of the direct spotlight due to the century-plus-year-old supervillain who was currently stalking her due to the origin of one of her two powers.

Yeah, okay. So, there weren’t any other people like her. It was a figure of speech. Who could blame her?

The universe, apparently.

One wall of the grocery store caved in, the force of the blast whipping the scarf off from around Nana’s neck and all thoughts of painkillers from Nana’s mind. One for All pulsed in her fists as she turned to face the threat.

(As always, she wondered, was this it? Had he found her? Was she about to die like Six?)

The threat was underwhelming. The villain standing in the hole was skinny, stressed, and clearly new at the ‘escape’ part of the gig, despite the bulging bag of cash under his left arm. Where had he come from, anyway? The nearest bank was... Ugh. Nana couldn’t be bothered to remember the exact distance. It didn’t matter, anyway.

What mattered was taking the guy down before he got the bright idea to start doing whatever he did to the wall to people. For example, the shoppers who were still standing right next to him.

Was the demolished wall not enough of a hint for these people?

Whatever, they were civilians. Even heroes and policemen froze sometimes.

It would be best to avoid a flashy (and damaging) fight in this scenario, especially given that Nana wasn’t wearing her costume, but a random sweater and some old jeans. She began to maneuver around to the villain’s flank, positioning herself in such a way that there were no civilians behind her. She prepared to strike.

And then, because the universe really had it out for her today, a second villain walked through the hole, this one carrying a crying girl in an elementary school uniform. He also was wearing a truly atrocious pair of shorts. They were some unholy combination between Hawaiian print, stripes, and polka-dots. And the were short. And tight.

The kidnapping only barely beat out those shorts as the worst crime the man was currently committing.

“No one get any ideas, or I’ll kill this brat!” yelled the villain. Their quirk looked like it turned their hands into spikes. Simple, not terribly threatening, but more than enough to kill the kid.

Oh, and now there was another kid, a blonde, peeking around the edge of the hole, glaring at the spike villain.

Okay, from now on, Nana was going to assume that no one had any self preservation, ever.

“I don’t know about this, bro,” said the other villain, shaking.

“Shut up! Hey, you!” he shouted at a cashier. “Where’s Kimiko?”

“She, uh, break room,” said the shaking teen.

The villain snorted. “Come on, she’s got that teleport quirk.” He kicked the back of the other villain’s leg. He stumbled forward.

A number of things happened in quick succession.

First, the blonde kid ran at the spike villain, hitting the backs of his legs.

Second, Nana darted forward, intent on taking out the villains before they could kill the suicidal blonde.

Third, there was a lot of blood.

When Nana said a lot, she meant a lot. As in, a worryingly large amount. As in, anyone who lost that much blood needed a trip to the hospital pronto, and that was if they were an adult.

The wall-blasting villain had evidently realized this, was screaming, and, thankfully, not paying enough attention to anything else to notice Nana coming up alongside him and knocking him across the jaw.

She didn’t have her capture gear with her. She’d have to hope he’d stay out.

Then the spike villain just. Collapsed.

Which is when she realized he was the one bleeding, rather than either of the kids. In fact, the blonde kid, who was utterly covered in blood, was helping to extract the girl from the villain’s rapidly weakening grasp. Which meant that Nana should probably do something.

Yeah, something.

First, make sure the villain wasn’t going to get back up and attack everyone. Oh, jeez. That was a giant chunk out of the guy’s leg, right underneath those awful, awful shorts.

Yeah, he wasn’t going to be moving for a good second. She turned to the kids.

“Are either of you two hurt?” she asked.

“No, ma’am!” said the boy, beaming. Underneath the blood, his teeth gleamed whiter than a toothpaste spokesman’s. The girl shook her head.

“Cool, cool,” said Nana, giving them a grin. “Did you bite him?” she pointed at the villain, winced, and started to take off her sweater. The guy needed a tourniquet.

“Yes!” said the boy. “He’s-- Is he okay?” The smile dropped a little, and he started wringing his hands.

Oh, gosh, he was precious.

“Yeah,” said Nana, brightly, trying to staunch the flow of blood. She could hear sirens in the distance. “He’s fine! People just get a bit dizzy when they, uh, lose this much blood. Why don’t you two go over there, and make sure the police have been called? And an ambulance?”

“Yes, Ms. Hero!” said the boy, saluting again. He practically dragged the girl off, over to the cash registers.

Cute.

The villain did make it into the ambulance. So. Anyway. Time to make sure the trauma wasn’t catching up to the sunshine boy. How old was he, anyway? Five? Ten? Had to be younger than eleven with that uniform, right?

(Simply speaking, Nana was not good at estimating ages.)

She slunk over to listen as the police officer questioned him.

“I just want to make sure you know, Yagi-kun,” said the police officer, who was gently dabbing the child’s blood-covered face with a cloth, “you aren’t in trouble, but we need to know if you used your quirk on that man?”

That was something Nana was curious about, too. After all, the kid had just about bit through the guy’s femoral artery. That took talent. Or a really weird brand of luck.

“Oh, no, sir! I don’t have a quirk!”

The officer stared. “You ran at a villain holding a hostage without a quirk?”

“Emi was crying! I had to help!”

Okay. Nana liked this tiny feral child.

The officer sighed. “Can you tell me your parents’ names? And phone numbers?”

“I don’t have parents, sir! I can give you the number of my foster home, though.” The last sentence was said with significantly less energy than all the ones before, and the boy looked down at the ground, kicking at it lightly.

Heck. If Nana didn’t have All for One after her, she’d adopt right then and there.

But she did.

And her bones still hurt.

Also, she was covered in blood.

Well, quirkless or not, she had no doubt that kid would go far. Maybe she’d see him again, someday.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #fic #fanfic #ask #answer #yagi toshinori #nana shimura #kid fic #does this count as a kid fic #smol toshinori #feral toshinori #blood #biting

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morbidcorvids · 4 years

Note

I just read ur halloween fic!! And it's adorable!! Can I also request a prompt? This is their highschool years btw and its about Hizashi, Shouta, Oboro, Nemuri, Kan and Tensei having a halloween party and also having a contest on who could have the best costumes! And the two winners would be going on a date. This was set up by Nemuri, Oboro, Kan and Tensei cause they know that Shouta and Hizashi had been dancing around each other for a few years and they wanted to help. So yeah XD Hizashi goes as Hatsune Miku! Which as he likes to call it, Present Miku! XD

Happy Halloween! I’m sorry this took *forever*, but it became much longer than anticipated. I loved the whole idea of Present Miku! Hope you enjoy!

Sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes!

Title: Present Miku

If only he had put a bit more effort into his costume, his friend Kan wouldn’t have felt as personally offended.

“You know, you could have at least bought one from the dollar store instead of wearing your black curtains as a cape,” Kan remarked, crossing his arms.

Shouta shrugged as he sat down next to Oboro, “I wasn’t going to come in a costume, but Nemuri warned me that if I didn’t dress up then she would make a scene on my birthday.”

“What type of scene?” Oboro asked, getting comfortable on the couch as he opened his tenth candy wrapper for the night.

“She didn’t specify, but honestly, I‘d rather not know,” Shouta responded, laying back on the couch as he gestured for Oboro to grab him a candy from the bowl.

Even if it wasn’t his original idea to attend the party, he had to admit, Tensei’s house was pretty impressive. From the moment he stepped onto the front gates, Shouta felt out of place with his cheap cape and DIY fangs. As the gates opened, he could see the massive garden filled with colorful plants and fancy statues. There was even a mini pond with lily pads that ran probably the bluest water Shouta had ever seen.

As he approached the huge double doors, Tensei was already waiting for him with that flashy smile that captivated everyone in class 1-A. With the best grades in the class, and being a descendant from a family of heroes, it was no wonder he became the president of 1-A.

When Shouta first arrived at class 1-A after transferring from General Studies, he hadn’t expected such a warm welcome from the president. The one from General Studies displayed a high ego and God complex that was unbearable most of the time. Tensei let Shouta feel included the second he entered his new classroom, and introduced him to Hizashi and Oboro - his current two best friends.

As Tensei let him inside the house, he was greeted by an ecstatic Nemuri, who was wearing a scantily clad Poison Ivy costume. Already seeing Tensei’s detailed costume of Link from Legend of Zelda and the custom made Poison Ivy outfit from Nemuri made Shouta feel like the odd one out with his poor excuse of a costume. It didn’t help immediately getting berated by Kan for “not putting effort into his Dracula costume”. Though he had to admit; he completely forgot about Kan’s attendance and how...insensitive it would be to come with a poorly done Dracula outfit. Kan’s family, who all have similar quirks that deal with blood, practically venerate the Draculian lore.

Kan was dressed as a chef, claiming the film Ratatouille inspired him. Shouta just rolled his eyes at the explanation and walked towards the living room. His eyes scanned the enormous living room, finding Oboro sitting down on a couch that probably cost more than his parent’s apartment.

He currently sat on that same couch, waiting for the last person to arrive. He sighed as Oboro’s white wings hit him in the face again for the fifth time. His friend opted to dress as an angel, and his explanation was even worse than Kan’s.

“Well, for one, I am an angel. Two, I am really feeling like acting as Cupid today,” Oboro stated, fluttering his eyes as he smiled at Shouta.

Shouta groaned, “are you sure it isn’t an excuse to use your clouds as a substitute for pants?”

Oboro cackled as he handed Shouta a piece of chocolate. They began talking with Kan about the scariest experiences they had with the supposed supernatural. Kan was in the middle of explaining the footsteps he used to hear walking back and forth on his apartment’s hallway at 3 in the morning when the lights were suddenly turned off.

Shouta looked at Oboro in confusion, who stared back at him with the same puzzlement. Rays of lights invaded the room as a certain pop song blared through the speakers. Shouta winced as he covered his ears. The loud music sort of reminded him of someone…

Tensei appeared from the entrance of the living room, looking unfazed. He turned on the microphone he was holding, which let out an unpleasant howling noise. Tensei smiled apologetically, and sighed before using the microphone to speak.

“People of Halloweentown, get ready for the greatest pop star of our generation. Please receive the wondrous, fantastic, fabulous, talented, and amazing: Present Miku!”

Nemuri released a giant confetti cannon, which sprinkled all across the room - blinding Shouta. Of course, Shouta thought, Hizashi would be one for dramatic entrances.

Hizashi suddenly appeared with a microphone on his hands, and began lip-syncing to the song that was still playing from the speakers. Kan leaned towards Shouta and Oboro as he covered his ears.

“What song is this?!” He yelled, yet Shouta could barely hear him as the song blasted through their ears. Oboro laughed hysterically as he moved to the beat of the song.

“It’s a Hatsune Miku song!” Oboro replied, “I think it is called ‘Desert Wolf’!”

“Is it the vocaloid girl he is obsessed about?” Shouta asked. His ears finally adjusted to the loudness that invaded the room. Someone would have believed he was prepared to be bombarded with sound, considering he was friends with Hizashi, the classmate with a Voice quirk.

Oboro smiled widely. “What do you think?” he said, pointing at Hizashi.

A long teal hair tied in pigtails adorned Hizashi’s head, falling to his hips. He wore a grey shirt that traced his waist with a black skirt. Shouta’s eyes lingered towards the bottom, where Hizashi posed with thigh high boots.

Shouta had to admit, Hizashi looked really nice.

It was clear that out of everyone here, especially Shouta, Hizashi put the most effort into his costume. He even had the clothing piece on his arms glow a color similar to turquoise. His tie had his name ‘Present Miku’ engraved on the top, with small pins of Hatsune Miku attached.

Shouta caught Nemuri glancing at him, wiggling her eyebrows. He couldn’t help the slight blush that crept on his face as he looked away.

The song soon ended, and Hizashi bowed, receiving applause from his friends. Oboro and Nemuri clapped loud and sincere, while Shouta and Kan clapped rather unenthusiastically.

Hizashi proceeded to plop down in between Oboro and Shouta, putting his arms around them as he hugged them tightly.

“Happy Halloween you two!” He exclaimed, flashing his brightest grin.

“Took you long enough to arrive,” Shouta grumbled, leaning towards Hizashi’s embrace. He’s used to Hizashi’s shoulder being his personal pillow as he took a quick nap.

He didn’t notice the way Oboro and Kan exchanged knowing looks to one another. They looked back to Nemuri, who nodded once in agreement. She approached the center of the room - heels clanking loudly.

“As you know, there was supposed to be a costume contest,” she reminded, looking at Shouta with those disapproving eyes again.

“The two people who win will get to go on a ‘fake’ date inside that door,” Nemuri explained, pointing her fingers at the closed white double doors at the right side of the room.

“Tensei decorated it so that it may seem as authentic as possible.”

“Authentic to what?” Shouta asked with his eyes closed, still leaning on Hizashi.

“To a date, Shouta,” Nemuri replied with a smug smile, “so let’s start with the first lucky winner!”

“Why do we need to do this now?” Shouta complained, “and also, don’t you think it is weird to make two people go on a forced date?”

“Shut up, Shouta,” Nemuri scolded, being one of the few people that isn’t afraid to argue with him. His intimidating look might work on his classmates, but his upperclassmen friend isn’t threatened by those judging eyes.

“Alright, remember not to vote for yourself!” Nemuri added, “pick a paper and once you write down your pick, just place it on this bowl.”

She gleefully walked towards Tensei and sat next to him, writing down a name with her personal calligraphy pen. Shouta sighed as Hizashi passed him a piece of paper and pen. Might as well get this over with.

He stared at the paper for a moment, remembering the details of everyone’s costumes. He didn’t even know why he was analyzing the costumes when he already knew the answer.

He carefully wrote Hizashi’s name, tracing back the letters as he finished. He rarely got to write his friend’s name, yet it felt so familiar to him.

He placed his paper into the bowl, and leaned back on the couch as he waited for the last person to cast their vote. Once Kan, the last one to vote, slipped his paper into the bowl, Tensei grabbed it and started counting.

As they waited, Hizashi was acting as the DJ for the party, though it mostly consisted of Hatsune Miku songs. Shouta stood up once to grab a piece of pigs in a blanket. As he ate the small party appetizer, he sneaked a peek at Hizashi, who was dancing to the music with Nemuri. Shouta never knew Hizashi was talented at moving his hips. His heartbeat began quickening-

“I have counted the votes!” Tensei announced, beaming in front of his friends.

“The winner is…” he began, and Oboro began tapping the table to mimic drums.

“Present Miku!”

Hizashi squealed, jumping up and down with Nemuri.

“Can’t wait to see who will be my date!”

“I feel like I know who,” Nemuri answered, looking straight at Shouta as she winked. What was she trying to say?

“Let’s not waste time and pick the second winner!” Nemuri sang, already picking up her piece of paper.

“Wow, someone is excited,” Shouta joked in his deadpanned time. Nemuri stuck her tongue out at him before handing him another piece of paper. Shouta sighed again, but this time louder than before.

Hizashi was busy talking to Oboro to notice Shouta next to him. Shouta wasn’t listening to their conversation - too busy thinking on who he would pick. I mean, it isn’t a hard choice. Just pick the second best costume.

Still, there was something impeding him from writing another name. He knew it was just a stupid date that meant nothing other than a way for his friends to tease the ones that got chosen.

Whoever got chosen meant they were going on a “date” with Hizashi. Shouta couldn’t explain why he felt an aching in his heart as he thought about it.

He brushed off his thoughts and wrote Kan as his answer. He didn’t know why he chose Kan, since he was sure everyone would probably pick Tensei. The speedster definitely had the second best costume at the party.

Maybe it was the thought of seeing Hizashi and Tensei having a happy date at the other side of the room that swayed his decision. He knew Hizashi wasn’t interested in Kan, especially after that time Kan told him about the pet tarantula he used to have as a kid.

Tensei, on the other hand, always seemed to make Hizashi smile with his stories about his baby brother Iida.

Shouta could never make Hizashi smile the same way.

Shouta felt someone flick a finger on his forehead, bringing him back to Earth. He turned to see Hizashi smiling fondly at him.

“Shouta, are you done?” Oboro whined, “I want to know the next winner!”

Shouta hadn’t realized he was the last one left to place his vote. He quickly stood up and dropped his paper into the bowl as he ignored everyone’s stares.

“Are you ready to know who your date is?” Nemuri teased Hizashi. The blonde man simply raised his thumb in excitement as he jumped up and down his seat.

Tensei didn’t take long to count votes, considering there were only six of them. Shouta just sat there, wondering how Tensei felt about receiving most of the votes. He knew he wasn’t going to win, so why did he keep feeling this pain on his chest?

“Guys, the final vote has been determined!” Tensei announced, standing up from his chair. Shouta briefly caught Nemuri giggling with Oboro and Kan giving a nod of approval to Tensei.

Now that Shouta thought about it - the four had been acting very suspicious throughout the night.

“And the winner is,” Tensei started, gesturing for Oboro to do his dramatic drums.

“Dracula!”

Everyone in the room cheered, except for two people. Shouta didn’t know how to process what had just happened. He just gazed at Hizashi, who was noticeably pale.

He was probably expecting someone else.

“I can’t believe my two best friends won!” Oboro shouted, “don’t try to have too much fun inside there. Got it?”

Shouta noticed Tensei helping Hizashi towards the other room. He noticed the loud hero unusually quiet - blindly following the blue-haired man. His vision was obstructed by Nemuri standing in front of him with a deceiving smile on her lips.

“Are you ready, big boy?”

“Nemuri, I don’t know what is going on but this was definitely a set-up,” Shouta blurted, “and I don’t like it one bit.”

“Sure you don’t, grumpy cat,” she replied, “c’mon, your date is waiting.”

Before he knew it, Nemuri shoved him inside a dining room. The table only contained two chairs and was decorated with a white tablecloth and a rose in the middle. The plates already had a small meal, which included a portion of lobster.

Hizashi was sitting down, looking back at Shouta with an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry they put you through this,” Hizashi said, “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine,” Shouta answered a little too quickly. He was still shocked over the obvious setup from his friends. Why would they want him and Hizashi to go on a date?

Did they realize his feelings for Hizashi? Was this a cruel plan to get his feelings rejected by his crush?

He ignored his thoughts and sat down on the empty chair. The two stayed quiet for a long moment, nervous to even stare at each other.

Shouta broke the silence, “I don’t know why they chose me. I had the worst costume out of all of us.”

“I think you look cute!” Hizashi blurted out, blushing deeply as he realized what he said. Shouta’s cheeks also turned into that dreaded crimson color.

“Shouta…” Hizashi began, hesitance in his voice. The ravenette focused back on Hizashi, trying his best to compose his pumping heartbeat.

“I guess I feel a bit more confident in this outfit, but I just wanted to say…” Hizashi continued, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hizashi just say it,” Shouta ordered, eyes fixated on Hizashi.

“I like you, Shouta!” Hizashi exclaimed, covering his mouth with both hands after he finished.

Shouta’s eyes widened at the revelation. His mouth dropped open in shock and the room grew dead silent. Both lay eyes on one another; fear of uncertainty emanating from both of them. Shouta lowered his arms, trembling as he grasped for his utensil.

“I- I like you too, Hizashi,” Shouta confessed, staring down at his plate.

“You- you do?” Hizashi cautiously asked, thinking he heard wrong. The silent teenager liked the loud one? Oh, the irony that is love.

Shouta nodded slowly, playing with his fork. He was surprised when Hizashi began to giggle loudly.

“I think I should take you on a real date!” Hizashi proclaimed with excitement. Shouta chuckled lightly, still a bit timid over the whole ordeal.

Shouta was never one to celebrate Halloween, but this year’s would definitely be unforgettable. He was celebrating it with his closest friends. His only friends.

But best of all, he was spending it with Present Miku - the best pop star in the world.

“So what do you say?” Hizashi asked eagerly, awaiting Shouta’s answer.

Shouta just beamed at Hizashi - showing off his DIY fangs.

“I think I’ll like that.”

#bnha #erasermic #aizawa shouta #aizawa #present mic #yamada hizashi #prompts

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princeazurathepathetic · 4 years

Note

Do you have any Azura headcanons?

Thank you for sending an ask, and yes I do, quite a few.

But they’re all under the cut because some of them are spoilery and I have some followers who have never played Fates

1. She did not know about her and Corn being cousins. (they never state in game if Azura knew, so Imma say that she did not)

2. Out of her Hoshibros, she was closest to Hinoka. (I rlly like their supports lmao)

3. In her first few days in Hoshido, she was convinced that they were lying about not wanting to her, and every time they wanted to help her or give her food, she was convinced they wanted to kill her.

4. She actually had a decent relationship w/ Garon before he became possessed and shit. Especially when Arete and Garon were courting.

5. She barely remembers this, though.

6. She had one friend in Nohr, (one of her step-siblings) but they were one of the first to die in the concubine-wars

7. This sibling liked to tell ghost stories, and that is where her love for ghost stories came from

8. She’s a crazy cat lady at heart lmao

9. Her favourite memory of her memory of Arete was when she got to sit in the audience at one of shows in Cyrkensia. This is what inspired her to become a singer just like mama

10.Her and her wonderful nephew (Kiragi when will u be added in Heroes?) have a really good relationship, and he makes her feel wholesome and good.

10. She’s terrible with kids due to most of the kids she knew growing up tried to kill her at some point.

10. She actually did have retainers for a short while in Hoshido, but they didn’t trust her due to her being “Nohrian” and eventually betrayed her. And she hasn’t wanted to have retainers since (bc of her amazing trust issues)

11. She truly and deeply thinks nobody loves her lol (not really a hc but whatever)

12. Sometimes when she’s in Valla, she visits her fathers grave, placing flowers even tho she doesn’t remember him

13. Although she likes Hoshido in almost every way better than Nohr, she doesn’t enjoy the fashion as much, and that’s why she doesn’t wear Hoshidan clothes

14. Mikoto made her the dress she has right now, making sure to make it look Vallite and not Nohrian

15. She tried to learn how to ride a pegasus while in Hoshido, but failed miserably.

16. For a while, she asked what Corrin was like, and tried to be like them, in hopes to raise her Hoshibros’s spirits

17. It didn’t work at all, and just strained her relationship with Pineapple more.

18. Upon meeting Mikoto for the first time, Mikoto asked if her mother was in good health. When Azura answered with the fact that her mama was dead, Mikoto almost started crying. Azura never knew why until she finds out they were sibs

19. Her and Oboro have a pretty terrible relationship (i’m sure u can figure out why)

20. One time in Hoshido, she lost her pendant, and made everyone stay up looking for it.

21. She hates tomatoes. Her and Leo will often argue about whether they taste good (it never goes anywhere but u know Leo, he needs to be right about everything)

22. She tried to save Arthur when he defended her (see their supports)

23. The guards at Castle Krakenburg hated her guts cuz they would always get in trouble when she ran away.

24. She knows about Sakura’s dolls (see Kaze and Sakura’s supports) and actually helped her make a few of them

25. She never knows how to react to physical affection

26. Like when someone hugs her, she just awkwardly pats them on the back and tries to get them off of her

27. She was very suspicious of Jakob for a while when she first met him.

28. His over the top love of Corn reminded her of her retainers shortly before they tried to kill her, and she was convinced he was buttering Corn up and was going to hurt them at some point

29. She does not get along very well with her wonderful nephew Shiro. She finds him too loud and brash.

30. She supports Forrest with every bit of her living soul and would die for him.

31. She doesn’t really know how to talk with Sieggy, and most of their conversations are really awkward small talk.

32. She finds Kana, like Elise, a handful, and far too much energy for her.

33. When she dies in Conquest and Birthright, she thinks of Shigure, and how he must be experiencing the same thing that she did when her mama died

34. She absolutely hated having to put Shigure in the deeprealms, since she didn’t want Shigure to have to grow up without parents there, like she did

35. She only ever wears clothes that match with her pendant. That way, people are less likely to notice it.

36. She wasn’t originally planning to stay with Corn in conquest. She planned on just staying with them untill htey were near enough to the border for her to get back to Hoshido

37. But then she started to like Corn, and opted to stay

38. It was incredibly hard for her to have to watch Pineapple’s descent into insanity.

39. And she stayed up crying about it a lot.

40. She’s babie.

41. Also she doesn’t actually know how to swim, she just kinda uses her pendant to drift thru water (like in the first cutscene u see her in)

44. She actually likes her Nohrian Dance outfit more but will never admit to it.

Those are the only ones I can think of off the top of my head lmao.

Thanks for the ask! Stay safe and wash ur hands ya’ll

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paragonrobits · 4 years

Note

Do you have any favorite Scar (fma) headcanons or theories?

a few, yes! here’s some, off the top of my head:

1. He’s asexual; I rather imagine that marrying is extremely common in Ishvalan practice, though while Scar was probably not obliged to do so while he was a warrior monk (who probably are expected to focus on studies and martial technique), it mgiht have been assumed he would get married post-Promised Day, but he declined to do so. I imagine him saying something like affairs of that matter have never interested him at all.

2. the whole THING about alchemy isn’t a feature of Ishvalan religious doctrine in general, but it’s something exclusive to Scar’s interpretation of Amestrian alchemy. It’s notable that he is the ONLY Ishvalan (in the original Manga and brotherhood) who expresses this distaste for alchemy, while others seem to not really care. You can practically FEEL the other guys in the room start rolling their eyes when he argues with his brother about it.

3. On that note: Scar’s issue with alchemy in general does not extend to Xingese alkahestry at all, and this may be a because of a philosophical approach. Amestrian alchemy posits that something is lost when they transmute; they are destroying something in the world, in a transactional context, and to an Ishvalan strict perspective, this is unbelievably arrogant and blasphemous to say. Xingese practices do not make any such claim, so I think it’s more of a philosophical issue.

4.headcanon wise, I see the Ishvalans as being mostly Ainu in sense of what they’re most culturally akin to in terms of real life analogues or representation; in terms of if a culture such as theirs had adapted to a desert region, specifically.

5. Due to the uncannily similar outfit design and proximity, despite them looking very different I believe that the people of Ishval and of Xerxes are related somehow. The people of Xerxes wore outfits identical to that of modern Ishval, and while it may simply be a case of what’s most practical to wear in the desert, the similar designs and those cloths worn around the chest seem to have some cultural significance. I suggest that the Ishvalans and Xerxians may have come from a common culture that split into variants long before the events of Father’s whole... THING.

6. He’s a dad figure to May!

7. biggest Scar headcanon; his entire rampage against state alchemists was motivated less by him wanting to avenge his people, precisely, or really accomplish anything, and more of him trying to find a good way to die. He didn’t have a grand purpose in mind, and his actions strongly support that, particularly later on, he didn’t much care for what he accomplished; he was just fighting until someone got lucky enough to take him down.

The interesting thing is, there’s evidence that he stops caring about his own life later on; early on, when Scar still believes he is the last Ishvalan, he’s a lot more careful and takes efforts to make a getaway when outnumbered. It’s only AFTER he finds more of his people, and we learn that his actions are antithetical to Ishvalan morality, that he gets more reckless; he charges without a thought, he never EVER retreats at this point, and he’s shown to have a deeply bitter and self-loathing attitude. The impression comes up of a man who wishes he had died with the rest of his family in his holy homeland, and who is just trying to make the people of Amestris suffer as he has suffered before he dies. It’s the chance to do something practical and help his people that really shifts Scar from ‘antagonist, but only because he opposes the heroes’ to ‘the stoic guy baffled by how ridiculous everyone is’

8. Character design theory! I firmly believe that Scar was inspired by grim heroes of the super manly anime tradition, inspired by characters such as Kenshiro from Fist Of The North Star and Guts from Berserk. (Arawaka likes her men a certain way, too, and that is for them to be FUCKING HUGE.)

#fullmetal alchemist #scar fma #fma #anon replies #replies #Anonymous

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losingmymindtonight · 5 years

Text

The Reinvention of Tony Stark

AN: I scrolIed through about a 10,000 messages to find this (since this was originally just a stupid idea I decided to scream at @dazzlingtony because I was bored one afternoon), and then it took me literal MONTHS to clean up because I’m extra like that. I’m sorry in advance.

A little background before you read: this is set in a post-Endgame universe where Tony survives. It’s written as if it’s an interview article for a blog/magazine. I kinda wrote it in a style that I see used a lot in Rolling Stone and Vogue. I have no idea if it has any kind of formal name, but I love how this kind of article reads more like a story and internal monologue than a plain interview. It also happens to lend itself really well to what I wanted to convey. It really enjoy character studies through an outsider’s POV, and I also enjoy playing with different genres. I hope you enjoy my little experiment too!

Some people have done some wonderful art about this concept as well, all of which have really inspired me to get my ass back to writing this! Here are some links if you're interested in some jaw-dropped talent: @ceruleanmindpalace's art of Tony looking like a regal king as Time’s Person of the Year. @argieart‘s portrait of Tony smiling on the cover of Time that literally makes me want to cry.

(Note: this one is VERY long. If you’d rather read it on the AO3, I’m linking it here.)

“There are a lot of things you worry about when meeting Iron Man, and there are even more things you worry about when meeting Tony Stark.”

From playboy to the pinnacle of heroism: Tony Stark's life has been anything but quiet. In his first face-to-face interview since wielding the Infinity Stones, Iron Man lets the public in on a glimpse of his life as a retired superhero and stay-at-home dad.

There are a lot of things you worry about when meeting Iron Man, and there are even more things you worry about when meeting Tony Stark.

I worried about my clothes, my greeting, how he would perceive me. Despite my friends’ and coworkers’ near constant reassurances, I felt justified in my anxiety. Not only was this one of the richest men in the world, but he’d held the fate of the universe in the palm of his hand. What could he possibly think of me?

The morning of our interview, he texted me (yes, Tony Stark actually texted me, himself, on his own), and asked me to meet him at a park near his house. He said we could talk there, before meeting his family, because that was, of course, the whole point of the interview. I was going to be the first and, possibly, the only reporter allowed within ten feet of Stark’s personal life since the Decimation was reversed.

He was five minutes early. He drove an Audi prototype that I knew wasn’t on the market yet, and my nerves were instantly reignited, if I could claim that they had ever even remotely began to settle.

I had a lot of expectations for that first meeting. I’d built this man up in my head, and I wasn’t the only one. There were murals of him littering the streets of New York, statue after statue being erected in his honor across continents. The admiration of Tony Stark transcended differences in ways few things could. Political, racial, gender, religious, or any other number of societal divisions: Tony Stark built bridges between them all.

What could a man like that possibly be like? He had been ready to sacrifice himself for me, for us, for everyone. There must be something that set him apart, something in his demeanor that was just as awe-inspiring as the looming monuments built in his name.

Except the moment that he stepped out of the car wasn’t grand. I’d expected to be immediately overcome with a sense of his superiority, but he was shockingly unassuming. That isn’t to say that he didn’t carry with him a sense of easy confidence, which he did, but it was the kind of self-assurance that built my own up instantly.

He wasn’t dressed like I’d expected, either. I’d been looking for Armani suits or, at the very least, a set of street clothes that looked like they cost more than my entire wardrobe, but instead, he was wearing a worn leather jacket and dark wash jeans.

He shook my hand, and I ended up staring at his t-shirt for just a few seconds longer than I should’ve. It was light blue, which was, for some reason, not a color I’d expected the savoir of the universe to wear, with a cartoon Earth on the center, the words the rotation of the Earth really makes my day circling it.

I let out a little laugh before I could even consider the repercussions, and he smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. In that instant, he didn’t look like a man who had built an empire on military funding and war profiteering. He didn’t look like the richest man on the planet. He didn’t even look like a superhero: the man who had cradled destiny in his palm and forced the scales back into balance.

Instead, he reminded me, strangely, and a little embarrassingly, of my grandfather.

“It was a gift,” he said, shrugging, gesturing almost lazily around the shirt’s graphic. “from one of my kids. A, uh, I’m glad you didn’t die saving the entire universe kind of thing. You know how it is.”

I definitely didn’t, but I nodded anyway.

He asked me if I’d like to take a walk around some of the hiking trails, and I quickly agreed. As we set out, he offered me his arm, and I took it. There were a few bizarre seconds when I forgot to interview him, too overwhelmed by the fact that this was probably going to be one of the most surreal experiences of my entire life.

Eventually, he was the one who reminded me.

“I suppose you have questions.”

I jolted, letting out a nervous laugh. “Right. I’m so sorry.”

He waved a hand around in the air, dismissing the apology right away. “Don’t sweat it. I’m used to it.”

I imagined that he must be. He’d been striking people dumb since childhood. On paper, it looked like Tony Stark had always been destined for greatness. Born into riches, raised in the cradle of a patriot’s legacy: there was nothing out of reach for Howard Stark’s heir. He’d graduated MIT at just 17 years old, long before most children had gotten their high school diplomas, and been thrust straight into the life of a celebrity. Even after his parents’ deaths, Stark Industries only grew under his leadership.

And then, of course, came Iron Man.

The kidnapping, Afghanistan. The press conference that ushered the world into the age of superheroes. Tony Stark was at the forefront of it all, pioneering in every field he dared touch. Of all the Avengers, he was the one we knew. The one we recognized. Despite the suit of armor, every single one of us knew that underneath the exoskeleton, Tony Stark was painfully human.

Just like us.

And yet somehow, it still managed to be a surprise that, at the climax of it all, he was the one to offer the final sacrifice.

Except… it hadn’t been a sacrifice.

Or, at least, it hadn’t been as large a one as he must’ve imagined it would be, when he wielded the universe on his fist.

And, for the second time in our very brief acquaintance, I found myself torn back to reality by Tony Stark’s gentle voice.

It wasn’t until the moment he spoke that I realized that I had been staring at the red and gold prosthetic that sat in place of the man’s right arm. Stark held it up with a wry smile, letting the sleeve of his jacket slip down to give me a better view.

“Yes, well,” he regarded the metal with a hint of amusement, “suppose we ought to get that out of the way, too. Yes, the rumors are true: it’s very much gone. A shame, really. I had a fun little scar on my thumb. It looked a bit like an upside-down squirrel.”

I laughed despite myself, then sobered. “I… I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine…”

He shrugged, as if the loss of his arm was a minor inconvenience instead of a life-altering change. “Small price to pay. The prosthetic is a lot more durable than the real thing, anyway. Built it out of the same stuff as the suit, stuck with the color scheme, too.” He grinned. “Branding, y’know?”

“Now you’ll always be Iron Man,” I said, not thinking.

I’d been mortified the moment the words had left my mouth, but Stark had just nodded, as if it was the most obvious comment in the world.

“Funny,” he murmured, “that’s almost exactly what Peter said.”

A part of me knew that I should be prying for more stories from that final battle, gathering the blood-stained details that would get readers’ hearts pumping, but I was suddenly far more interested in Tony Stark, the human, rather than Iron Man, the hero.

So instead, I asked him how retired life was suiting him, and he seemed pleased by the question. He gestured grandly around the path we were taking, at the lake and the trees and the sloping landscape: the violent reverse of the concrete jungles we had both been raised within.

“As you can see, I certainly can’t complain about the views.”

“Are you bored?”

He chuckled to himself, as if I’d just hit on an inside joke without meaning to. “Bored? Never. Even if I wanted to be, I can’t imagine how I’d find the time.”

“Some people call you Pepper Pott’s trophy husband,” I joked, and I was surprised by how easy it was to talk to him. “I’ve always found that amusing.”

This time, he laughed full-out, open and bright. “Oh, it’s very accurate. These days, I leave nearly all the business to her. I’m just a stay-at-home dad.”

“And that works for you?” At his questioning look, I scrambled to clarify. “It’s just… I can’t imagine going from the life you’ve had to the life you have now. It’d give me whiplash.”

“It is hard, every once in a while,” he admitted. “But, mostly, I enjoy the peace. Or, the peace that the kids let me have.”

That was the money topic, perhaps even more so than Thanos’ defeat, and it was something he’d brought up himself at least twice now: his children. When I had been preparing for the interview, I hadn’t known how to approach it, but it felt surprisingly natural in the moment.

“How is your family? I assume by kids, you mean Morgan, and, well…”

He paused at a picnic table, and gestured for me to sit. I did, and he settled down across from me, finishing my sentence.

“And Peter.”

“Right. And Peter.”

Peter Parker. The child that Tony Stark created a memorial fund for in the wake of the Decimation, and the child that, on the few occasions when he’d ventured into the city since using the Stones, he always seemed to have trotting along at his heels.

Before Thanos’ defeat and Stark’s resulting dance with death, all questions about Peter had been answered with the same harsh response: that the kid was his intern, and nothing more. Afterwards, however, there had been a sudden switch. In the few recent press releases that had mentioned Tony Stark and his family, Peter had been unanimously included.

I decided to inquire specifically about the health of his children at this point, careful to use the plural to watch for his reaction, and everything about Stark seemed to soften. A layer that I hadn’t even realized he’d had raised suddenly dropped away, revealing an adoration that was entirely uncensored. It was as if I’d just hit on his favorite topic in the world.

It was nothing like I’d imagined from him, but it also felt as if this was his most natural form. The superhero, the weapons dealer, the playboy: these were all just facades.

I wondered if I might be one of the first outsiders to truly catch a glimpse of who Tony Stark actually was.

“They’re both brilliant,” he breathed. “You’ll meet them later, when we head back to the cabin. Peter’s, uh, Peter’s 16, which I’m sure you already know. He’ll go back to high school in the fall, as a junior. We’re waiting for the College Board to get their shit back together so he can take the SAT. Morgan just turned 5. She’s in preschool, kicking ass. She’s already reading way above her level, because she’s just that smart, and we’re in a phase where I have to pretend to like something from her Easy-Bake oven nearly every day. They’re both a lot nicer than me.”

I knew that my next question was verging into dangerous territory, but I asked it anyway.

“Peter was one of the Vanished, wasn’t he?”

He regarded me with a sharp gaze, and I suddenly felt like a bug under a microscope. This was the look of a man who had run a multi-million dollar business for the entirety of his adult life. It was calculating, cold. The switch happened so suddenly that it made my head spin, and I felt the loss of his warmth keenly.

“That’s not a secret.”

I stuttered out an apology, but he pushed it aside. Instead, he shot a question back, which wasn’t uncommon but certainly wasn’t usual with these kinds of interviews.

“Were you?”

I nodded my affirmation, and he seemed completely unsurprised.

“Yeah, I thought so.”

“Did you look me up, before today?”

“No, I can see it in your eyes.”

I asked him what he meant by that.

“The people who didn’t Vanish are colder,” was all he said in return, but it was enough to send chills down my spine.

“You don’t seem colder.”

“You don’t know me.”

I dropped it. I just wanted to stick to the script, for a while. Tony Stark was proving to be even more complex than I’d imagined, and that was saying something. He seemed to bounce from guiding warmth to flinty steel in the slip of sentences, and the changes were as predictable as the summer thunder storms that used to tear through my grandparent’s Georgia lake house. One second the skies were sunny, humid heat beating down on your sunburnt shoulders, and the next the trees were quivering under the weight of wind-howls and lashing rain.

“Can I ask about the battle?”

A tiny smile pulled at his face. For such a sensitive topic, he seemed to relax. “Which one?”

Which one? It baffled me, for a moment, that the man sitting with me at a splinter-heavy picnic table, wearing a science pun t-shirt that looked like it had been ordered off of Amazon Prime, had been in enough life-or-death conflicts that he had to make me clarify which one.

“The… The final one.”

“You want to know about the gauntlet.”

And, yes, that was exactly what I wanted to know. It was exactly what my editor wanted me to know, too, what we knew our readers would gobble up. The Infinity Stones were fascinating, in the way the human species tended to covet and idolize the things that filled us up with horror.

“I do. Why did you put it on?”

“I knew that I had to,” he said, like that one decision hadn’t been the most monumental of our generation.

“Did you know you were going to survive?”

There was a profound sorrow in his eyes that told me my answer before he even opened his mouth.

“I thought I was a goner, actually. Thought I still was afterwards, too, although I barely remember it. My memories really start back in the hospital, about a week later.”

“Were you scared?”

It was such a childish question, but it seemed appropriate. He must’ve been, of course, but my mind couldn’t quite grasp the concept of someone like him experiencing the same reality that I did. I felt fear, but did he? He seemed so much more than human, now, so much more than me.

He smiled. “Terrified.” He shifted, fiddling absentmindedly with his watch. “The thing is, everyone thinks that I did it for the greater good. And… maybe I did, to some degree. But when I snapped, I was only thinking about my family. You can judge me for that however you want.”

“I don’t think that’s wrong. I think that’s… I think that’s just human.”

He watched me quietly for a few breaths, studying. “You know,” he finally said, “you really do remind me of Peter.”

It wasn’t long after this that I finally got to meet the teenager in question. Stark brought me back to his car and, as soon as I was settled in the passenger’s seat, handed me a security badge.

“Here, put that on. Don’t take it off.”

I did as I was told. “Does everyone who comes to visit you have to have one of these?”

He pulled out onto the road with a tiny smirk on his face, eyes obscured by a pair of sunglasses he’d slipped on once we’d gotten into the car. “Most of the people who visit me are already in my AI’s systems. But, yes.”

“Are you worried about your safety?”

He shrugged. “Not necessarily my safety. Despite retiring, my AI can operate the suits, and so could I, given enough reason, although I’m sure that this,” he held up his prosthetic again, “might make things a little more difficult.”

“So why all the security?”

“Reporters,” he said, glancing over at me, and I suddenly felt a strange sense of shame. “I want Morgan to grow up as normal as possible, and I don’t want Peter’s life ruined anymore than it already is. The least I can do for them is make sure that no paparazzi can get within range to take photos of them at the house. That’s a safe space, for all of us.”

And yet he was bringing me there: directly into their safe space. I couldn’t help but wonder why, so I asked, hoping that I wasn’t about to drop yet another dark veil over the atmosphere.

Thankfully, Stark took the question with ease, as if he’d been expecting it, eventually. “People are fascinated with forbidden things. If I make my house and my family entirely off-limits, the public’s interest only grows. But if I let a few people in, people we’ve carefully chosen, then it starts to lose its appeal.”

“That’s clever.”

“I’ve been playing this game for my whole life. I know how to gain the upper hand.”

I paused. “Do you want me to print that?”

He hit the brakes at a stop sign, and turned to look at me over the rim of his sunglasses. Maybe I was imagining it, but I swore that I saw a flicker of respect in his gaze. “You can print anything I say. I’m not afraid of public opinion. It’ll swing whichever way it wants, and it really doesn’t matter what I do about it.”

“It’s pretty in your favor right now.”

“The key words of that statement are right and now.”

“So you don’t think it’ll stay that way?”

“I know it won’t.”

I didn’t know if I agreed with him, but I stayed quiet. I imagined, though, that it would take a truly ungrateful world to tear down the man that had saved it. I wanted to think better of humanity than that, even if Tony Stark himself seemed to struggle with the optimism.

We drove through three security checkpoints before pulling into the cabin’s driveway. It was smaller than I’d expected, but that still made it larger than an average house. In fact, its size made Stark’s designation of it as a cabin seem almost comical. Dark brown siding melted into stone accents. A chimney rose up through the trees that clustered around the front porch’s carefully-maintained railing. In the distance, I could see the sunlight playing on the lake. There was a boat in the dock, bobbing peacefully in the morning waves.

It didn’t look like a museum, or the palace of a king. It looked like a home.

Morgan Stark herself was waiting on the porch. She looked smaller in person, but more lively as well. In the few paparazzi photos I’d seen of her, she’d always seemed frightened and unsure. Now, though, she came barreling down the porch steps like a rocket, overexcited shouts of Daddy! filling the air.

Stark scooped her up as soon as she got to us, face melting into a smile. He looked calm, again, and perfectly in his element. It hit me rather suddenly that the savoir of the universe was, at the end of the day, just a father who loved his children enough to lay his life down for their futures.

I liked Tony Stark better as a man than as a god, I decided. And from the look on his daughter’s face, she agreed with me.

I was introduced to Morgan right there in the driveway, and it seemed to take her all of a minute to decide that I was a perfectly acceptable addition to the scenery. I’d been expecting more resistance, more of Stark’s wariness, but in the end all I got was a childlike acceptance.

I met Pepper Stark next. Her new last name still tripped me up, even four years after her wedding. No matter how much I tried to condition myself, I could still remember her as Pepper Potts: a lingering presence over New York, formidable CEO and, by all accounts, the only person on Earth who could control the great Tony Stark.

She was sitting in the living room, which happened to be the first space I saw when Stark ushered me through the front door and into the cabin’s cozy warmth. There was a fireplace against the wall, leather couches and armchairs tucked up against it’s glow. A simple staircase led upstairs, but we walked past that, further into the house.

Mrs. Potts was kind in a controlled, well-groomed sort of way. Her demeanor wasn’t fake, necessarily, but I recognized the carefully prepped exterior of a woman who had learned to fight battles in a man’s arena. Besides that, I could also see that she wasn’t certain of me. There was something in her eyes that told me that while she didn’t dislike me, she didn’t necessarily want me in her house, either.

I could understand the trepidation. She and her husband had fled the public eye five years ago, when the Decimation had turned all gazes to the Avengers for answers, for someone to blame. Then, six months ago, her husband had very nearly become a sacrificial lamb.

She had very nearly been forced to raise their child all alone. Staring that in the face must change a person. It had to.

After the introductions had faded into idle conversation, Morgan declared that she was going to go “get Petey,” and raced off up the stairs. A minute or two later, she returned, dragging a teenage boy along by his hand.

Peter Parker was, for lack of a better word, shy. When he met my eyes, usually by accident, he immediately darted them back down to the carpet. He was a little awkward, a little nerdy. His hair was curly, and way too long. A few strands stuck out from the rest, and he stuttered over himself when he spoke. In many ways, he didn’t seem to have any of the suave, easy-going charisma that Stark did.

But Stark loved him. That much was clear from the moment he stepped into the room. Tony Stark looked at his children as if it was a new experience every single time, and it only got more and more breathtaking as the years wore on.

Once we’d finally made it through all the necessary greetings, Morgan tugged on my sleeve and asked if I could give her an interview. I looked to Stark for permission. He went to sit on a couch a few feet away, guiding Peter along with him by pressing a hand against the small of his back, and made a lazy gesture for me to go ahead. He propped his feet up on a crayon-stained ottoman as he watched me, calculating.

I had never interviewed a child before, although I knew at least one of my colleagues who had. Still, she seemed like a smart kid, eyes blinking up at me with barely-contained excitement, so I proceeded just like I usually would.

“How old are you, Morgan?”

“Five!”

“Do you like school?”

“Yeah!”

“What’s your favorite thing to do, there?”

“I like art.”

That was surprising. The daughter of Tony Stark, an artist. It wasn’t what I’d expected at first, but the more I considered it, the more it made sense. What were the Iron Man suits, if not a work of art?

“Do you do a lot of art at home, too?”

“I do! I like to draw portraits of Mommy and Daddy and Peter.” Her face lit up, and she bounced to her feet. “I can draw you one now, if you want!”

“I’d love that.”

As she raced off towards her bedroom, presumably to gather up what were sure to be absurdly expensive art supplies for a five-year-old, I marveled at the fact that she seemed so… normal. Perhaps that was another way that my warped concept of Tony Stark had led me astray. I’d expected his children to be, well, more than normal children. Different, somehow, more serious or solemn or conscious of the power they wielded in the world, and yet even Peter seemed detached from it all. In the few moments when I managed to forget that I was sitting on Tony Stark’s couch in Tony Stark’s living room, the family life sprawling out around me had the same domestic taste as my own childhood memories.

Maybe that was a testament to the Starks’ parenting techniques, or maybe it was a testament to the power of hero worship. The human race could, it seemed, build any man into a legend.

The next few hours slipped by in a domino chain of normalcy. Morgan came back downstairs and covered the floor with crayons and pencils and three different sketchbooks. She drew me a portrait of her family. I’d been expecting stick figures from a child her age, but she drew a series of people that were so well-formed that I could point out which person was which without her telling me first.

Stark got up and made sandwiches for lunch, and everyone ate in the living room except for Peter, who disappeared for the meal but came back in just as it was finished. Nobody else seemed to think that his vanishing act was atypical, so I didn’t comment on it.

As the day crept forward, and my awe at the unexpected normalcy faded, I started seeing those kinds of gaps in greater frequency. Yes, this family wasn’t as abnormal as I’d originally anticipated, but they weren’t entirely normal, either. And the more I looked, the more I saw those blips. Even as Stark worked so hard to leave the superhero life behind him, it still bled through the cracks.

Morgan Stark didn’t seem to notice her father’s prosthetic arm, or the ugly scars that marred half of his face, but Peter Parker did. He danced around the man’s injured side, always brushing shoulders with the left but giving the right as wide a berth as possible. Every once in a while, when he thought I wasn’t paying attention, his gaze would linger just a little too long on the back of the prosthetic’s hand: the space where, according to rumors, Stark had born the Infinity Stones.

Pepper Potts gave less obvious signals, but they were still there. When she handed Stark a new mug of coffee, she went out of her way to place it in his flesh hand. Even more than that, she was always half watching her husband, as if a stray wind might tear him away from her.

The paranoia was in Stark, too, although that was far less of a surprise, considering his reputation. He was almost predatory about the way he guarded his children, and Peter in particular seemed to spark something fierce and mother bear-ish in him, which was a phrase I never would have expected to use in relation to one of the most powerful men in the universe.

I couldn’t help but wonder if Morgan or Peter understood that: the concept that their father, the man who fixed the broken wheels on Morgan’s doll carriages or shamelessly bragged about Peter’s intelligence to anyone who would listen, had the whole world, the whole universe, breathless in awe. His endorsement or censor could build or topple political campaigns. His name made people pause mid-step. The very concept of his existence was enough to influence the unfolding of strangers’ lives.

I doubted that Morgan knew, but I had an inkling that Peter might. But even more than that, I had a pretty solid suspicion that even if Peter did know, he just didn’t care.

Peter fascinated me, both as a human and as a reporter. He was sweet and shy, and yet I knew that there must be something else underneath it. The way Stark looked at him was unique, and unlike Morgan, he was old enough to perceive that.

I wanted to talk to him. So, I jumped on it.

“Do you mind if I talk to Peter, before I leave?”

I’d deduced that Stark was fiercely protective of Peter, and the man’s reaction to the question did little to contradict that conclusion. I supposed that it made sense, considering the Decimation. To lose a child and gain them back was a complicated thing, and he wasn’t the only parent struggling through life in the aftermath of that whiplash.

“If Peter wants to talk to you,” he finally said, jaw tight.

As it turned out, Peter did want to talk to me, much to Stark’s barely concealed displeasure. In fact, it seemed like he’d prefer an emergency root canal to letting me go just about anywhere with the teenager, but he didn’t stop us. From the surprised look on Peter’s face, that was probably some kind of progress.

We went onto the front porch, at his request, and sat on the wooden steps rather than the rocking chairs carefully placed to offer views of the lake.

“So,” he said as soon as we were seated, “how do we do this?”

“I ask you questions, and you answer them.”

I didn’t mean for the explanation to sound so sarcastic, but he grinned, eyes twinkling.

“Yeah, okay,” he laughed, a hint of nervousness in the sound, “I probably should’ve guess that bit. Well, ask away, then.”

“Do you live here now?”

He shrugged. “Kinda, but kinda not. When school starts I’ll have to spend a lot more time at my aunt’s place, but for now I try to split it fifty-fifty.”

“You’re not Stark’s secret biological kid, right?”

That question earned me a sly glance. He seemed to toy with his answer, mischief growing with every passing second.

“I think I’ll let people keep wondering about that, actually. Mister Stark thinks it’s fun to watch them stew.”

“And Stark said you were nicer than him.”

Peter snorted. Obviously, that piece of information wasn’t a surprise. “Yeah, he does that.”

“And you don’t agree?”

“You’ve met him, right? You know he’s wrong.”

“He’s… a lot nicer than I expected, that’s for sure.”

“Yeah. A lot of people say that, if they actually give him a chance.”

I could tell, just from that minuscule exchange, that Peter loved Tony Stark just as much as I’d seen Tony Stark love him, that the teenager saw something in the man beyond what I did. That knowledge wasn’t necessarily surprising, but it was refreshing. In some ways, it made the savoir of the universe that bit more human.

“Stark told me you’re going to be a junior in the fall.”

Peter’s face turned a little red, every bit the embarrassed teenager who just found out that their parent had been bragging about them behind their back. “Oh, no. What else did he say?”

“That you were brilliant.”

“Ew.”

I laughed. “I assume you like school?”

“Uh, I mean, yeah. I like learning.”

“You must be very smart, to have caught Stark’s attention in the first place.”

“I’m alright, yeah.”

I knew that he was being modest. All of the information I had on Peter Parker told me that he was a proper genius, rivaling even Tony Stark’s IQ.

“Do you remember coming back, after the Decimation?”

Peter’s shoulders tensed, and I wondered if I’d just crossed a line. There seemed to be a lot of those, in this house, in this family. An unspoken guidebook of limits and cautions that I hadn’t been made privy to.

“I do,” he finally said.

“I assume that you don’t want to talk about it?”

“No, not really. Sorry.”

“That’s fine.” It was, too. Talking about the Decimation didn’t bother me, but it did bother some of my friends. It was just different coping mechanisms, I supposed, and I understood not wanting to go into such a traumatic experience with a stranger. “When did you find out what happened to Tony?”

He seemed to choose his words carefully. I’d been interviewing people for long enough to know when an answer had been rehearsed, and Peter just wasn’t as good at lying as Stark.

“Pretty soon after.”

“And the first time you saw him was in the hospital?”

“Yes.”

Another lie, which was interesting. In any other interview, I probably would’ve tried to pry for the truth, but I had a weird feeling that Stark would know the second I so much as mildly upset Peter, and it wouldn’t end well for me if he did.

“It must’ve been hard, when you heard about what he did.”

Peter watched me carefully for a few seconds, and my previous evaluation of him gave way to something new. He was shy, yes, but he was smart. Even smarter than Stark, maybe, or maybe he just wasn’t as good at controlling it yet. Still, I could see the raw, borderline brutal intelligence in his eyes. He was running every inch of me through his brain like I was an equation to unwind.

“It wasn’t my favorite day of my life, no.”

“Is that why you spend so much time here, now?’

A pause. He was still sizing me up. I could tell.

“Sort of.”

“I never thought of Tony Stark as a father, you know,” I said easily, testing his reaction. “Even after we heard about Morgan being born, it was hard to imagine.”

“That’s because everyone thinks that they know him, but they don’t.”

I was caught off guard by how quickly he said it and, from the look on Peter’s face, so was he.

I asked him if there was one thing that he wished people did know about Tony Stark.

“He’s complicated, but that doesn’t make him bad,” is all Peter said.

Stark was lurking by the door when we come back in, and Peter didn’t even try to hide his eye roll. He made a joke about having survived the interview without spontaneously combusting, which didn’t seem to land all that well with Stark. For a second, it looked like he was about to scold the teenager, but then his eyes darted over to me and he silently glared instead.

My last hour at the Starks’ cabin was spent getting a tour of the house and surrounding acreage. The kids stayed back in the living room with Mrs. Potts, so I found myself alone with Tony Stark once again.

I’d seen photographs and videos from inside the Stark Tower penthouse, and the décor in his cabin was as far from that style as I could imagine. Where the Tower was sleek and steeped in modern, minimalist designs, the cabin was more rustic. It had a farmhouse vibe, and the furniture was worn and used. It was, without a doubt, a lived-in space.

I only saw a single room upstairs: Stark’s office. Otherwise, I was told that the floor held his and his children’s bedrooms.

“Peter would disown me if I let anyone into his room, and, besides,” Stark said, leading me back down the stairs and away from the hallway of locked doors, “some spaces ought to stay private.”

We spent the rest of the house tour chatting about superficial topics, like the Yankees’ most recent loss and how awful it is to drive in New York at rush hour. Once we stepped outside, however, the conversation got a little more interesting. One of our first stops was a half-downed tree, which Stark pointed to while looking unexpectedly somber.

“The roots gave out during a few days of pretty bad storms about two weeks ago,” he said. “It’s a shame, I guess. Morgan and Peter used to climb all over it. Gave me a good few heart attacks while they were at it, but at least they were having fun.”

He took me down to the dock, where he showed me the boat they kept tethered there. I asked him if he did any fishing, and he laughed.

“Not a chance. I’m rotten at it, Peter’s too nice to kill anything, and Morgan just doesn’t care.”

“And Mrs. Potts?”

His smirk was fond and knowing. “If she ever slows down long enough to even consider fishing, I’ll let you know.”

The cabin’s ground were nice. They weren’t immaculately well-kept, but they weren’t entirely wild, either. It felt very natural, and when I asked Stark who did the landscaping, he told me that he took care of most of it himself.

“Don’t look too carefully at some of the details,” he warned. “I’m an amateur at best, and it doesn’t help that I’ve usually got at least one kid quote-unquote helping while I work.”

“It seems to me like you’re good at just about everything you do.”

“That’s because I rarely do things that I’m not good at.”

I couldn’t help but ask if he was at all grateful for Thanos as we walked back to his car. I knew that it sounded a little perverse, a little brutal, especially considering the prosthetic arm that was a constant reminder of the physical losses he endured, but it was a curiosity that I couldn’t scratch. At the end of the day, it seemed like Stark had come out of that tragedy far more solid than he’d gone in. He had a family, a wife, a beautiful cabin on the lake. He was living in a paradise.

“Maybe,” he said. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to say I’m grateful for something that resulted in five years of grief for a universe, but I am grateful for the way it ended up. There are worse things to lose than an arm.”

He drove me back to the park, where we’d met so many hours before. My Chevy was the only vehicle left in the lot, that late in the evening. He got out once we parked, came around to open my door, and walked me the few steps it took to get to my car.

“Any last words?” Stark asked, and while he didn’t seem to get the irony of that question, I certainly did.

This was a man who once had chosen his final words. It felt ridiculous to compare that moment to this one: a dusk-stained parking lot, my 2008 Chevy Cobalt, and the biggest problem in my future being late-night New York traffic.

“Why did you choose me?” I asked, hand paused on my door’s handle. “You’ve denied every other reporter’s request for an interview, so what made you pick me?”

He smirked. The streetlight glinted off his metal arm.

“I didn’t,” he said. “Peter did.”

He patted the roof of my car, then stepped away.

“Drive safe.”

#hi y'all I'm back on my bullshit #been writing this for MONTHS #help #irondad #tony stark #peter parker #morgan stark #tony & peter #tony & morgan #losingmymindtonight writes

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meem-didi · 3 years

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Journal: Final Reflection

The fashion industry has complex links to many other sectors, including manufacturing, advertising, raw material processing, transport, and retailing. The immense profits to be gained in the retail industry give rise to the desire to engage in unethical practices. When suppliers, distributors, designers, or customers are exploited or treated unfairly, fashion industry executives have an ethical duty to improve the situation.

Within Fashion Ethics and Culture course, we were given the opportunity to explore the breadth of creative, aesthetic, and social/cultural expression of design through the lens of ethical and historic considerations – as it is and how it needs to change, the role of the MENA region and its relationship to fashion media.

As a student of DIDI, I felt the same link and inspiration between the Fashion Ethics and Culture course and my vision of how I want to be as a future designer and how I should change the current fashion industry status quo with my future career path. The course creates a creative paradigm for learning ethical fashion design through the lens of ethical and historic considerations. Students are introduced to fashion history, cultural criticism, contemporary culture, and the diversity of representation including ethical considerations and perspectives.

In my opinion, this course plays as a moderator between all other fashion courses we study and extend to other courses with depth like sociology and design histories and theories to link and emphasis all courses material in a dynamic way. We covered various subjects relating to Body Image Problems, Fur Trade Issues, Cultural Hegemony and Appropriation, Consumer Over-consumption, Environmental Effects, and Concerns, Advertisement Conflicts, Brand Name Forgery, Sweat Shop Working Conditions, and Exclusiveness and Injustice Issues; that simultaneously vary from micro to macro scale through lectures, group activities, open discussions in class, and individual presentations.

The True Cost Formula

Investigate your Wardrobe

Doughnut Economics

ATCAC-Disrupting the Fashion System

Earth Logic: the turning point

Careers in the Fashion Industry

The future of Garment Technology in Circular Fashion

Market Segmentation

Fashion for Good: Virtual Tour

Fashion & Society

Made in America

“Luxury: Behind the mirror of high-end fashion”

Empathic Design Process

SOKO Kenya - A people first company

Innovative Fashion Marketing

Key trends innovating Fashion Marketing

Fashion for Good: Virtual Tour

Untangled Egyptian Beauty Standards

The Fashion & Race database

The Modist- Modest Fashion Dream

About Time: Fashion and Duration

The It Girl: Ashley Al Busmait

I enjoyed the above-listed topics and guest lecture discussions we had this semester, but certain to a whole new way of perceiving the world. I would love to deepen and expand my knowledge on the technology and circularity of the fashion industry future as well as focus on modest fashion and ethical practices and success and failure aspects of the Modist business experience. Whether through merging my learning outcome within this semester to my nest fashion studio or final thesis.

Here's my list of the most meaningful subjects for me and some of the highlights of my recent blogs on these topics:

ATCAC-Disrupting the Fashion System

ORIGIN AND HISTORY

Atacac is a Swedish fashion studio that Jimmy Herdberg and Rickard Lindqvist created in 2016. Atacac is designed to disrupt the current fashion system. Atacac is like a laboratory for developing ideas and principles. Then they work as consultants sharing that with other brands to improve their design. The other way they work with other designers is what they call Share-wear. When they release a new product in their online store, they also offer the 2D pattern and the 3D model of the garment for free download. This builds a community of home sellers and independent brands that use their patterns and designs. In certain terms, you can do whatever you want. There is a Credit Common Licence connected to the Share-wear which means you can use it commercially in any way you like, and you can make improvements to it, But you need to give credit back to Atacac if you use it commercially and market the product. You also need to make your development available for other people to keep developing further.

For me ATCAC is a brilliant business module example that is trying to blow the entire system to the ground, I loved how I saw ATCAC embodying every principle, I have been learning for the past 3 years. This blog post and the investigation behind it gave me hope that I can succeed in doing something different with my future dream brand.

Innovative Fashion Marketing

Stretchy Kids’ Clothes Petit Pli gets a growing identity

A sustainable fashion design example that offers apparel that evolves as the wearer grows older has an innovative branding that sounds like “more human” and “less professional." The idea is to reduce the waste of apparel and save parents’ money as children progress up a range of sizes in the first three years of their lives.

It needs time and education to promote meaningful behavioral change. We assume that we are too late for much of our generation. We assume, though, that we are just in time for the next era of LittleHumans. The brilliance of the brand strategy is in anchoring on the opportunity where new parents and young children are more open to improvement and learning than any other part of our community. They do everything not only to promote constructive behavioral improvement but also to make it as seamless as possible.

Marketing as a term became cliché of how much brands are using it without actually making the right –positive impact on their users, within this blog post example of how marketing approach could be current, supportive and extending the brand value to further stage where the client loyalty will be granted due to that extended value, this reminded me of applying the product-service systems methodology, where it's not only the brand responsibility to produce and market a product but they innovate different approaches to extended their after-sale services and product value to emotionally engage their clients.

Empathic Design Process

Empathy is the core of the entire process of Design Thinking. Putting ourselves in someone else’s shoes reinforces our ability to interpret information, and lets us understand how other humans perceive the world around us.

The realm of fashion design is shifting from an external focus on the industry, or an internal focus on integrating technology, to an empathetic focus on people. While it’s not too difficult to rally people around this general idea, it can be hard at first to understand how to translate it into tactics.

I ask myself as a designer, how do we make a good connection between a fashion worker and a customer? My solution to this question is to make fashion employees the hero of the story, create brand ideals around them. Plan company modules to be a win-win for staff and stakeholders. As designers, we should reconfigure how the framework is giving back to the societies through which we work. I expect, as a future fashion designer, to build a secure working environment that will help better the lives of single mothers in Egypt. By offering comprehensive educational opportunities and curating future working talents. The Empathy Concept process will be incorporated not only to understand the consumers but also most critically, to understand the true needs of the heroes behind my future brand.

Technology & future of Circular Fashion

Fashion has always been a major hub for innovation — from the invention of the sewing machine to the rise of e-commerce. As technology, fashion is both forward-looking and cyclical. At $2.2 T, the apparel industry is now one of the top sectors in the global economy. Nowadays, apparel technology is rising more than ever. From robots that sew and cut clothing to AI algorithms that anticipate style patterns, to VR mirrors in dressing rooms, technology automates, customizes, and speeds up every aspect of fashion.

In the optimistic scenario, the future will be led by innovators and collaborators, the industry will leap forward in developing digital passports for clothing that carries an internationally recognized digital asset trigger that could be accessed by designers, retailers, recyclers, and customers alike. This type of standardized infrastructure and labeling approach means that not every brand or approach provider has its own patented approaches, leaving customers stuck in the sea of things to consider. In this way, the future of fashion technologies could truly unify the industry around common practices that would make circularity more visible to everyone.

Reference list

Accenture and H&M Foundation (2018). Circular x Fashion Tech. [online] Available at: https://www.accenture.com/_acnmedia/PDF-74/Accenture-GCA-Circular-FashionTech-Trend-Report-2018.pdf [Accessed 3 Oct. 2020].

By Insider Trends (2019). Why does Swedish clothing brand Atacac give its patterns away for free? - Insider Trends. [online] Insider Trends. Available at: https://www.insider-trends.com/why-does-swedish-clothing-brand-atacac-give-its-patterns-away-for-free/ [Accessed 14 Sep. 2020].

CB Insights (2020). The Future Of Fashion: From Design To Merchandising, How Tech Is Reshaping The Industry. [online] CB Insights Research. Available at: https://www.cbinsights.com/research/fashion-tech-future-trends/ [Accessed 26 Oct. 2020].

CHANGE, W. (2020). THE WARDROBE CRISIS. [online] THE WARDROBE CRISIS. Available at: https://thewardrobecrisis.com/the-magazine/2020/8/26/4-tech-innovations-that-will-change-the-future-of-sustainable-fashion [Accessed 26 Oct. 2020].

CLO (2020). Live Q + A with Fashion Studio Atacac. YouTube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PHpiD5u0e1w&feature=youtu.be [Accessed 14 Sep. 2020].

Dawood, S. (2019). Stretchy kids’ clothing Petit Pli gets an identity that grows. [online] Design Week. Available at: https://www.designweek.co.uk/issues/1-7-april-2019/stretchy-kids-clothing-petit-pli-gets-an-identity-that-grows/ [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Design Indaba (2013). Data Dress: A tangible representation of your online movements | Design Indaba. [online] Design Indaba. Available at: https://www.designindaba.com/articles/creative-work/data-dress-tangible-representation-your-online-movements [Accessed 26 Oct. 2020].

Dezeen (2017). Ryan Mario Yasin’s Petit Pli kids clothing expands to fit as children grow. YouTube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJ8VSvkz_4w [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Dubai Design Week (2019). GGS Success Story: Featuring Petit Pli by Ryan Mario Yasin. YouTube. Available at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3a2eIix1rUI [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Dyson on (2019). Petit Pli: The unlikely fashion brand that wants to end industry waste by making clothes that grow. [online] Medium. Available at: https://medium.com/dyson-on/meet-the-inventors-fabric-fantastic-c5f18d7639bf [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Fashion United (2020). The future of garment technology in circular fashion. [online] Fashionunited.uk. Available at: https://fashionunited.uk/news/business/the-future-of-garment-technology-in-circular-fashion/2020091750927 [Accessed 26 Oct. 2020].

Givens, D. (2020). ASOS Unveils Its Made In Kenya Collection Collaboration With Soko Kenya. [online] Black Enterprise. Available at: https://www.blackenterprise.com/asos-unveils-its-made-in-kenya-collection-collaboration-with-soko-kenya/ [Accessed 27 Oct. 2020].

GLOBAL FASHION AGENDA (2020). Design for Longevity. [online] Designforlongevity.com. Available at: https://designforlongevity.com/page/about [Accessed 14 Sep. 2020].

Herdberg, J. (2020). Kokokaka - Work. [online] Kokokaka.com. Available at: https://kokokaka.com/work.html [Accessed 14 Sep. 2020].

Krantz, J. (2017). Atacac uses game tech to disrupt the fashion system - MAGIC FABRIC. [online] MAGIC FABRIC. Available at: https://magicfabricblog.com/atacac-uses-game-technology-change-fashion-system/ [Accessed 14 Sep. 2020].

LeVine, S. (2018). Automated fashion is now a reality in new Chinese store. [online] Axios. Available at: https://www.axios.com/fashion-automated-alibaba-china-store-d476b4a4-d74d-410e-9518-bea2449203da.html [Accessed 26 Oct. 2020].

Morrison, H., Petherick, L. and Ley, K. (2019). THE FUTURE OF CIRCULAR FASHION A COLLABORATIVE REPORT BY ACCENTURE STRATEGY AND FASHION FOR GOOD ASSESSING THE VIABILITY OF CIRCULAR BUSINESS MODELS. [online] ACCENTURE STRATEGY AND FASHION FOR GOOD. Available at: https://d2be5ept72nvlo.cloudfront.net/2019/05/The-Future-of-Circular-Fashion-Report.pdf [Accessed 2 Oct. 2020].

NB Studio (2019). Petit Pli - Brand Identity. [online] The Drum Awards. Available at: https://www.thedrumdesignawards.com/drum-design-awards-2019/brand-identity-design/petit-pli-brand-identity [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Partners, K. (2017). PROTOCHIC. [online] PROTOCHIC. Available at: https://www.protochic.com/stories/2017/3/17/kenyan-manufacturer-soko-kenya-partners-with-british-retailer-asos [Accessed 27 Oct. 2020].

Petit Pli (2020a). MISSION 2: FUTURE OF HUMANITY Earth’s Hidden Figures. [online] Available at: http://ryanmarioyasin.com/hosting/BLMcomic.pdf [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Petit Pli (2020b). Petit Pli. [online] Petit Pli. Available at: https://shop.petitpli.com/ [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Petit Pli (2020c). Unstick The Sticky Alien! [online] Petit Pli. Available at: https://shop.petitpli.com/blogs/news/unstick-the-sticky-alien [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Pfaff, M. (2018). Amesterdam University of Applied Sciences. [online] AMFI.nl. Available at: https://amfi.nl/news/technology-is-transforming-the-fashion-industry [Accessed 14 Sep. 2020].

Sherriff, L. (2020). This Company Is Making Children’s Clothes That Actually Grow As The Kid Does. Forbes. [online] 16 Feb. Available at: https://www.forbes.com/sites/lucysherriff/2020/02/24/this-company-is-making-childrens-clothes-that-actually-grow-as-the-kid-does/?sh=81b30233f70f [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

Sohini Dey (2018). Can artificial intelligence and fashion create a smart stitch? [online] mint. Available at: https://www.livemint.com/Leisure/Vp81luEXDz3lWuvvYVYIdO/Can-artificial-intelligence-and-fashion-create-a-smart-stitc.html [Accessed 26 Oct. 2020].

SOKO Kenya (2020). SOKO Kenya. [online] Soko-kenya.com. Available at: https://www.soko-kenya.com/ [Accessed 27 Oct. 2020].

The Trampery (2019). Petit Pli : Future Design for “LittleHumans” - The Trampery. [online] The Trampery. Available at: https://thetrampery.com/2019/12/02/petit-pli-future-design-for-littlehumans/ [Accessed 31 Oct. 2020].

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#fal301 #fashion #ethicalfashion #fashionblog #week13 #entry23

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nobodyfamousposts · 5 years

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Felix July: Felix is Chat Noir (Clash of Noir AU)

I figured I’ll do a mix of my aus for Felix. Just for variation and inspiration. This one features Felix from the Clash of Noir AU.

He remembered what day it was just in time to start kicking himself for losing track.

All the talk and rumors and gossip had gone over his head. All the planning and excitement left him too busy with trying to keep track of his civilian tasks AND his self appointed duty of protecting Marinette and judging Adrien Agreste to actually consider just what said planning and excitement was supposed to be for.

It wasn’t until he happened to see Tikki in Chloe’s hands that he stopped and took notice of the world around him.

Including the foreign but somewhat familiar young man Chloe presented the doll to as a “gift”.

Prince Ali.

Felix had enough time to curse his own lapse before the doors burst open and another familiar but much less pleasant figure entered with a growing army of singing minions at her command.

Princess Fragrance.

Dammit.

This was the day Rose became an akuma—courtesy of Chloe Bourgeois, of course. And there was little doubt that the visiting Prince of Achu was her intended target.

The officials were attempting to respond to the intrusion and actually tried to question the clearly not-normal girl in what had to be the worst decision they could make. Already aware of what was going on and what would come of that, Felix charged for Ali and dragged the boy off and around a corner while everyone else was still distracted.

“Hey!”

Not that they were distracted for long, but just long enough for him to get a head start was more than enough.

He needed to get Tikki back to Marinette! And unfortunately, the direct object of the akuma’s infatuation happened to be attached to her.

Last time, he had been forced to face Princess Fragrance alone for a time, desperately stalling and trying to buy Ladybug time to arrive on the scene while protecting the Prince and getting him to safety. He hadn’t understood why it had taken her so long to show, but seeing Tikki in the Prince’s possession was a pretty good indicator of what must have happened in his original version of events.

If Chloe and then Prince Ali had Tikki, Marinette couldn’t transform.

That meant Chat Noir would be on his own this time as well.

And Marinette would be defenseless.

While he wanted the chance to see his replacement in action to observe how well he can manage as the new Black Cat, the situation was far from the best choice as a test.

He wanted to test Adrien. But not while Marinette would be at risk.

Because if Tikki was here, Marinette no doubt knew it and was likely on her way—assuming she wasn’t already somewhere within this blasted hotel. And with the akuma here as well…

Victory was still possible if Chat Noir fell.

But not without Ladybug.

He needed to get Tikki to Marinette.

“Where are we going?”

He also needed to do something about the Prince.

With a quick turn and some fast thinking, he pulled Ali with him into a side room that led to the laundry room and slammed the door behind them. Fortunately, they were far enough ahead that anyone following them would not have seen where they went off to.

“Do you know anything about what is happening in Paris right now?”

Ali blinked. “Do you mean the Mayor’s plans for sending the city’s trash out into space?”

“Wait—what?” Felix shook his head. That wasn’t important. “Nevermind that. No. I mean about Hawk Moth and the regular akuma attacks.”

The other boy simpered. “I had heard…something to that affect. But those were just normal criminals, weren’t they?”

Oh boy.

“No. No, they were not. Akumas are victims taken over and granted powers by a specific super-villain. And that green-skinned girl chasing after you happens to be one.”

Ali paled. “Oh.”

“Until Ladybug stops her and purifies the thing controlling her, that akuma is going to keep hunting you down—all over the city if she has to.”

“So…what should we do?” Ali asked. “Should I give myself up? Would that make her stop?”

Felix stared at him dryly. “No. Akumas don’t stop.”

That just made the Prince pale even more. “Oh.”

But this gave him an idea.

Within minutes and with the aid of a couple of hand towels, Felix and Ali both had cloth face masks. This doubled both for granting them at least some limited protection from the perfume as well as obscuring their features.

“Brilliant! This will make it more difficult to determine who I am!” Ali exclaimed.

“Well, sort of,” Felix noted. “You’ll have to do something about the jacket or she’ll pick you out in a crowd regardless.”

The Prince nodded in agreement and removed the jacket. A faded hoodie did well in obscuring Prince Ali’s features and making him less noticeable as the royal figure he was known to be.

To Felix’s relief, he also removed the “toy” as well. Felix silently set the jacket aside with Tikki inside. First chance he got, he’d have to get Tikki and track down Marinette. But for now…

“There is a back entrance out of the hotel.” Felix explained. “Going on foot will be slower than a car, but it will also mean more places to hide and more routes to take. You’ll be harder to track that way. But you need to leave now before she blocks off all the exits.”

“You’re not coming?” Ali asked, concerned.

Felix hesitated.

“I have…something I need to do. There’s someone I have to find.”

For royalty, the Prince was rather kind as he merely smiled at his savior. “Then I wish you well.”

And with that, he was gone.

Felix sorely wished he could have gone with him, if only to escape this danger.

But…

His eyes fell on the pink kwami who stared at him in clear distrust.

The things he did for his Lady…

______________________________

It wasn’t worth it some days, Felix moaned to himself internally. It just wasn’t.

Finding Marinette had somehow been the easy part. But Tikki had been sick somehow, and Marinette needed to take her to a healer.

In the meantime, Felix was trapped in a hotel room with Chat Noir, the head butler, and Chloe herself—who as part of some payback for her earlier cruelty had been the victim of a particular blast of Rose’s perfume. One that left her smelling rancid in a way that no one could stand for long.

Even worse in that she was refusing to be by herself, insisting on staying glued to Chat Noir’s side for lack of Ladybug present in the silly belief that the spotted heroine will be arriving soon. Chat clearly was not having an easy time of it. But neither were Felix nor Jean, as the room they were holed up in was one of the smaller versions for cheaper guests. There was space for them all, but Chloe’s reek was strong enough to permeate the room as easily as a scented candle.

Nobody was happy about this.

Felix, for his part, was staying near the door. Partly for the sake of distance from Chloe, but also to offer an added buffer against anyone who may try to burst in. Not that he would do much good compared to Chat Noir, but they were reaching a point where the hero would be needed. Once all the noise outside and sound of footsteps of the various minions faded, he would suggest Chat leave and go to assist Ladybug. Surely, Marinette would have gotten Tikki healed by now. It’s been about how long it took last time, near as he could figure.

All he had to do was just bar the door, keep any entrances closed, sit tight, and wait this out—

“I can’t take the stench anymore!”

“Hey!”

“I got the window open!”

Felix froze.

“NO!”

“Uh oh!”

“My prince~!”

OF ALL THE IDIOTIC—

Within an instant, Chat Noir foiled all of Felix’s carefully laid plans by opening the window. One that led to a perfectly placed balcony in full view of the growing army of singing minions. And sure enough, having been alerted as to which room they were in, Princess Fragrance was just waiting for an opportunity like this—one that Chat Noir in all his idiocy just handed her!

She let loose a cloud of perfume that engulfed Chat, Chloe, and Jean within seconds. Felix, fortunately, being far back enough by hanging near the door still, was just out of reach of the immediate cloud. Not to mention that of the four of them, he was the only one still wearing the face mask to offer at least some protection.

Enough for him to stave off the effects of the perfume if he didn’t get too close. But not enough to stave off actual attacks from the akuma or her ever increasing multitude of servants.

“Now, Kitty! Do be a dear and bring my Prince to me!”

Case in point.

“Yes, your hi~ghness~!”

Felix wanted to scream.

Oh, he very much wanted to scream.

There was no time for screaming though, as he slammed the door open and bolted back down the hallway and away from the akuma and her growing entourage.

Luckily and unluckily, Chat Noir gave chase. Still stupidly singing out pleas for Felix to return and tell the Princess where her Prince was.

Nope. Nope. He was not having any of that today. Hell, as far as he was concerned, his daily requirement of good deeds was officially met for the day. He was done.

Marinette had Tikki back and Ladybug would be making an appearance soon enough.

But…

Would she be able to defeat Princess Fragrance alone from this point?

He hesitated, which was just enough to allow his replacement to catch up to him.

“I found you~!”

But Felix had been Chat Noir longer.

And he had been training a heck of a lot harder.

Granted, he’d been preparing himself for the eventual Clash with Adrien over the mantle rather than because the other boy became an akuma’s minion, but the tricks he’d learned and strength he’d built were still just as useful in the moment.

And he wouldn’t deny there was at least some satisfaction in the sensation of his leg slamming into the other boy’s chest and sending him into a wall. Before he could even attempt to get up, a shelf lost it’s connection to the wall on one side, leading to several rather heavy items slipping off the edge and landing right on Chat’s head.

Perhaps he had put a bit of his still remaining bad luck energy into that kick. Or perhaps it was Adrien’s own bad luck at play. Regardless, Felix was a mix of grateful and amused at the way events played out.

Cautiously, he approached the other boy. It might have been a trick after all. But several moments passed and Felix confirmed that yes, Chat was knocked out.

Now would be a perfect time to escape. Let Ladybug figure things out. Let events unfold without his interference. Let things continue as they should.

And yet…

The Ring seemed to gleam, as if drawing him to it. And it quite possibly was. He could feel the energy between them. He could sense the connection. He still carried a piece of Plagg’s power within him, after all.

It was an opportunity. He could pass it up. He should pass it up.

He grit his teeth in agitation.

“To hell with it.”

After all the torment he’d suffered under the Ring’s curse, he couldn’t help but feel insulted at how easy the Ring was removed from Adrien’s hand. Maybe it was because the curse had only been his? Maybe he had the worst of it since he’d been the one to feel its full effects? Or maybe Adrien was just that lucky?

Still, within seconds, he had the Ring settled in the palm of his hand and a green light changed Chat Noir into a very unconscious Adrien Agreste. Not a shock to Felix, but it was still unsettling.

Given the way Plagg was staring up at him, he must have felt similarly.

“Felix.”

“Plagg.”

The kwami hesitated. “Are you really going to initiate the Clash like this?”

He paused. It would be very easy to. With Adrien unconscious and off guard, Felix would win easily. There would be no conflict, no contest from there and Felix would be free to find an appropriate candidate for his mantle in peace.

But that wasn’t why he was here, he reminded himself.

“Not yet.”

He couldn’t help the shudder.

“I don’t want it.”

Not like this.

Never again, if he could help it.

“I’m only going to be a temporary substitute for now. Just for this crisis. After that, I’ll let him have it back.”

For now, went unsaid.

Plagg looked uncertain. “You know it’s not yours anymore. Not after what you did.”

“It’s still partly mine.” Felix replied. “And that means I have to make sure it ends up with the right person.”

That got the kwami’s attention. “That’s what you’re doing?”

Felix didn’t respond. It should already have been clear that he wasn’t fit to bear the Ring. He never had been.

But if nothing else, he would be damned sure that whatever Chat Noir ended up existing in this world wouldn’t be the same. Even if that meant taking it away from Adrien and as far away from anyone bearing the Agreste name as possible.

“You can’t just decide that.”

“Actually, I can.” Felix replied. And the bad luck energies that continued to exist in his body sparked as if in agreement. “Part of your power is still with me. Until the Clash…I have time to decide who I want to replace me.”

“You’ve made your share of mistakes.” Plagg hissed. “Adrien isn’t you. He deserves a chance!”

“And he will have it. Until he proves himself—whether worthy or unworthy.”

Plagg gaped up at him in surprise.

“If he proves himself by my standards, I will step aside.” Felix stated. Not that he expected it, given what he had seen so far. But the boy still had potential nonetheless. And while foolish, he hadn’t shown himself capable of the same intentional betrayal Felix had.

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then I will take the Ring and pass it on to someone who can.”

The part of him that hadn’t stopped screaming since feeling her body go cold in his arms was against it. But even that part of him was doing this for her just as much as the rest of him. He couldn’t forget her. Would never forget.

She would want him to give the boy a chance.

So he would.

However, right now, what they needed wasn’t a chance for Adrien.

But for Marinette.

For Marinette…

“Plagg. Transform me.”

Just for today, he would be Chat Noir.

#ml au #ml fic #clash of noir #felix agreste #ml felix #adrien agreste #chat noir #plagg #tikki #prince ali #marinette dupain cheng #felix month #felix july #princess fragrance

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linerwriter · 5 years

Text

Taps

Phew, it’s been what, two months since I posted a fic? Uh, yeah, sorry, lots of stuff come up that I won’t get into, but I’m back and nearly made myself cry with this. It was partly inspired by @jinmukangwrites for their most recent fic, Graceful (thanks for making me cry jin), but the plots have nothing to do with each other.

Originally, this started from the idea of ‘what if Wild had been dying ever since he got out of the shrine and the only thing keeping him alive was the Champion’s gifts, but they were also running out of power, so he eventually died’ but it had to be changed because I didn’t know if fallen soldiers also had Taps played at their funeral if they died of natural causes. I may still do the original one, though. At some point.

Anyway, please enjoy! I can’t promise I’ll be back to posting stuff like I used to, but I’ll try to be more active about it!

The last couple lines are lyrics to the tune Taps by Daniel Butterfield.

Twilight didn’t know how he had let it happen. He always expected one of them to die, but never like this, and never him. He was supposed to be the big brother, the pack leader, and he failed.

He could remember the words exactly, they were such a slap to the face.

“Dying? What do you mean he’s dying?” Wind asked the princess in a panic. She had a bittersweet smile on her face gazing down at her friend, the one she trusted her life with.

“He is dying and has been since that beam was fired.” She stated matter of factly, brushing the knight’s bangs from his sweaty forehead. Twilight wasn’t sure how he felt about her touching his cub.

“So you knew and never thought to tell us?” Warriors growled with a look of malice etched onto his face. Twilight was surprised he could even feel the same amount of hatred in his heart.

“Yes, we did.”

Twilight sighed. It was time to get ready.

On went the stuffy suit, a darker variation of the royal guard uniform with a woven pattern signifying his status faintly seen on his breast. He didn’t have many clothes for this occasion- as a matter of fact, none of them did- but due to their status as heroes, the princess decided it was best for them to wear the ensemble.

“And on comes the special hat,” Twilight said gruffly, ignoring the empty feeling in his chest. It wouldn’t do for him to start crying now.

“We typically wear the beret when we need to look nice, but since we’re laying an old friend down to rest, we wear this instead.” The old man turned around slowly and took the dusty cap out of the garment bag. “Ah, if only he was around to see this.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Twilight saw Time frown. “What do you mean by that, sir?”

The man chuckled heartily, “I was an old friend of that hero back before the Calamity hit. We used to joke that he’d have to wear the cap at my funeral because he was such a damn perfectionist. Now look where we are.”

Twilight glanced at the sun outside the window. It was nearly time to go.

He took slow steps down the stairs, gently touching his gloved hands to the wooden railing. If he looked close enough, he would see the faint etchings into the wood from the many times they had chased each other up and down these steps.

Further down into the house he went until he came upon the dining room. A startling memory rose from the deepest parts of his mind, of a time when his cub was okay and safe.

“Hey, Twilight?”

“Yes, cub?”

“What do you think will happen when I die?”

Twilight looked over to the younger man, a faint frown hidden behind his lips. “Why do you ask that?”

A shrug. “Curiosity. Forget it, pass me the salt, please?”

A swift shake of his head and an about-face later, he came upon the front door and opened it to the fresh outdoors. He took a deep breath in, smelling all of the different, subtle scents in the air, and stepped outside for the first time in quite a while.

“Legend, please come out.” His friend pleaded.

Silence, until, “No.”

The man gave a frustrated sigh, “If you don’t come out, you won’t get dinner!”

“I don’t want dinner!”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want her!”

All at once, the man’s ruffled expression softened into one of concern and understanding. Twilight watched him get up and leave the fire, not coming out until the next morning.

The procession was small. Friends and family only, with friends being minimal and family being massive. No matter whom he interacted with, the fallen soldier was loved by many.

Time came up beside the young wolf, “Have any words to say?”

Twilight shook his head, “None that I would want said outloud.”

Time nodded and the two lapsed into silence. A quick glance from Time later and Twilight sighed, “What?”

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m doing fine, Time, it’s been a couple weeks already.”

“So? Time is irrelevant in regards to the heart.”

Twilight shot a flat stare to the older man, “I’m fine, grandpa, now give me a break and go back to where you’re actually needed.” He nudged his chin in Sky’s direction, who had buried his face in Hyrule’s chest.

Time shot him a warning look, “Fine. If you’re really alright, I’ll go. But if you need me, I’m always welcome.”

“Just go already!”

“Just go already!” Twilight heard the shorter man scream. “We can’t fight them off all at once!”

“But what about you?”

“I’ll be fine, just go!”

He wasn’t fine.

There wasn’t a dry tear in the house by the time they got to the designated spot outside the shrine. It was a quick trip from Hateno to the plateau, even with the number of people and the special cargo.

Twilight wasn’t sure what time it was at that point. It could’ve been midnight for all he cared. That numb feeling in his chest wouldn’t go away no matter what he did, so he had been stuck in a blind haze since he heard the news. He wished it would disappear soon.

“I can’t speak for everyone when I say this,” the princess’s shaky voice startled Twilight out of his thoughts, “but I think, as the person who knew him the most, I can say that he would’ve wanted us all to be here.”

The Gerudo chief nodded her head in agreement, her closed eyes blocking her from the world. “He was stubborn until the very end.”

“Twilight, wait!” Twilight turned around quickly at the sound of his cub’s voice. “I-I’m sorry about what I said!”

“Oh, are you, now?” Twilight snapped. His cub slowed to a stop, looking hurt, but hurridly shook it away, a determined look entering his eyes.

“I know I don’t always seem to care about myself, but I am aware about how you guys feel. I-it doesn’t always come off that way, but I have been trying to take better care of myself. So don’t feel like I don’t, alright?”

Twilight sighed, his anger already fading away. “I know, cub. I know.”

He wished they had more time to talk about it.

He sees them lowering it into the ground. It has to go closer to the side of the mountain or else it would be a shallow grave.

He’s been trying so hard to keep it together. So, so hard. That numbness in his chest is finally going away, but it instead turns into a soul-wrenching wail for something he can’t get back anymore.

Flashes go through his mind of his cub’s long, blonde hair, flailing in the wind. Of his bright blues when they had a successful hunt. Of his heaving chest after having gone through a nightmare. Of the first time his cub smiled and it wasn’t a grin.

And as that lilting melody travels through the hair, calling all of the fallen to rest, Twilight finally allows himself to cry.

Days is gone, Gone the sun,

From the lake, From the hill,

From the sky.

All is well, Safely rest,

God is nigh.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #hero of twilight #hero of time #everyone else #major character death #funeral #i got inspired by jin #and taps #look jin you have your own tag #angst #nearly made myself cry

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