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averagewriter-inthedark · 6 months

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They Did The Monster Mash 🎃 | TGM Halloween Imagine

Set in an AU where the characters of TGM are classical and mythology monsters/creatures

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: mad scientist!Bob Floyd x mad scientist!reader (romantic), Dagger Sqaud (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, light profanity | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 2.4K

Premise: it’s All Hallow’s Eve, a night where ghouls and monsters alike awaken from every inch of the globe. What better way to celebrate the spookiest night of the year than gathering all those lurking in the shadows to the party everyone wants to be.

Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Here’s a fluffy, spooky little imagine for y’all as a treat 🎃

——————-

‘Twas the night before Halloween, and all through the cemetery. Not a creature was moaning, as they basked in solitary. The pumpkins were lit, with carved faces to stare. In hopes the monsters of the night, soon will be there.

“Bob!” Y/n shouted, frantically searching for her coat. It was a quarter till midnight on October the 30th. Soon it would be Halloween. And with a full moon high in the sky it was the perfect moment to test out their newest creation. “It is almost time! We must make haste!”

“I’m right here, darling,” her coat in his hand, Dr. Floyd dimmed the lights on his way into the lab. The woman exhaled in relief, kissing his cheek before placing the coat over her shoulders.

“What would I do without you, my love?”

Bob adjusted his goggles over his prescription glasses, chuckling, “Probably half as mad as you are now.”

Any other woman would be offended by the comment, but Y/n, the mad scientist she embraced herself to be, only giggled. The two had met during their doctoral program, falling in love and conducting research as a duo. Before long they were blacklisted for unethical experiments, moving underground to hide from society.

But what the world didn’t know, was they uncovered a world beneath their own. Where monsters heard in legends and fairytales roamed freely. Living amongst humans to the naked eye.

Since forming partnerships with fellow outcasts like themselves, the couple have traveled every Halloween to Transylvania, Romania. There the infamous vampire Pete Mitchell, descendent of Dracula himself, hosts an annual Halloween festival with monsters and ghouls alike.

The party always started around sunset on Halloween night. So the two had plenty of time before gearing up their transportation pod to zap them to Pete’s mansion. Y/n placed her own goggles on, brushing away her dyed jet black hair with white streaks, mischievous smirk painting her lips, “Shall we begin?”

“It was a one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater. (One-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater). A one-eyed, one-horned, flyin’ purple people eater. Sure looks strange to me.” The party was in full swing when the couple arrived. Creatures in every corner, a werewolf howling in the distance, bats flying overhead. They were home.

“Doctors!” They spun around to find the monster of the mansion sporting a cheshire grin, fangs threatening to poke out. Lord Pete Mitchell, having recently fed by the bright color of his eyes and lack of under eye bags, wore a snazzy black pinstripe suit with a blood red tie. The handkerchief in his breast pocket, as well as the soles of his shoes, were the same color. “It is so wonderful to see you. I’m always amazed by your entrance every year. God forbid the governments of the world discover you’ve cracked the code of transportation.”

“Don’t forget time travel,” Y/n winked, causing Pete to laugh.

“Of course,” he flashes his pearly white teeth before frowning after peering around them, “Where is your--.” Y/n gently cuts him off.

“Oh at the lab. Ever since we created his bride he refuses to leave the basement” Pausing she gives a knowing look, “You know how young love is, my Lord.”

Pete makes an ‘ah’ sound, “Yes, yes, I understand. When you return, do let him know he is missed. And that I cannot wait to meet his bride next Halloween.” He winks, adjusting the cuffs on his sleeves, “Please make yourself at home. We’re still waiting on a few more before the festivities of the night fully begin. Until then, the bar is open--as always--and do let me know if you need any more necessities for your upcoming projects.”

“Thank you, Lord Mitchell. My wife and I appreciate your hospitality and generosity greatly.” Bob shook his gloved hand, still able to feel the cold dead skin that laid beneath it. The vampire made his departure, moving to greet other guests. Y/n weaved her arm through Bob’s open arm, letting him guide her to their group of friends they spotted in the distance by the bar.

“Well look at what the wolves dragged in.” Jake Seresin, an incubus famous in both the underground and real world, was the first to notice them. With his ability to seduce and mentally bend people to his will, Jake succeeded in becoming a high profile Hollywood actor. Making it accessible for him to feed on the blood of men and women alike. Unlike Pete, who was a vampire, Jake appeared human and only took the form of his demon counterpart when he hadn’t fed in a long time.

“Seresin,” Bob nodded, glaring when the blonde creature approached to take Y/n’s hand and kiss her knuckles. He had nothing to worry about of course. Y/n was immune to Jake’s charms, threatening to experiment on him the first time he attempted to swoon her.

That had him running with his (literal) tail between his legs.

“Careful, Jake,” Came a teasing feminine voice from the side, “I hear the mad scientists have been searching for Incubi blood on the black market.” Jake sent a glare in the direction of the voice, the couple following it to find Natasha perched on a bar stool, stroking her black cat seated in her lap.

A witch, with family dating back to the Salem Witch Trials, Natasha was the type of woman people couldn’t help but fear and desire. In the small village she lived deep in the forest surrounding, rumors of the witch swarmed with many believing her responsible for the curse on the town's most corrupt and wealthy families.

Well, to them they were rumors….

Y/n slipped past Bob, opening her arms to the woman, “Lovely to see you again on this Holiday, dear Natasha.” The hug was brief, Y/n making sure to offer a light pet to the cat, piercing her with its stare.

“As to you, Madam Floyd.”

“Tell me,” Y/n leaned closer, “Were you successful?” Natashe smirked at the question, whispering under her breath.

“We shall find out once the sun rises. But I can assure you the Supreme Court will think twice before bringing forth groundbreaking cases to overturn.”

“Marvelous,” the doctor awed. She moved along to say hello to their other friends. There was Javy, a werecoyote and Jake’s best friend. The full moon affects him like it does werewolves, but he’d already consumed his monthly dose of Wolfsbane to prevent the transformation from happening.

There was Mickey, a hellhound who served as a guard for the Underworld. Tasked with keeping the secret of the supernatural hidden. One can imagine the headaches Jake gives him with being a celebrity in the real world. When Mickey became his hellhound persona, cracks in his skin appeared like molten lava.

Reuben was present, and thankfully Y/n remembered to wear her iron jewelry. The tall, handsome fairy sipped on his usual cocktail. Like Jake he was the most ‘humanlike’ of the bunch where he could easily walk amongst mortals without causing suspicion. His golden eyes were a stand out, however, often covered by contacts. Of the group he had known Mickey the longest, the two meeting centuries prior during a war between fae and goblins.

“I’m not late am I?” came a booming sound from the main entrance, all heads turning. Jake instantly groaned, the others pleased to see the Alpha werewolf, Bradley Bradshaw, in the flesh with his typical Hawaiian shirt and jeans.

“You’re right on time,” Pete announced from the top of the steps, raising a glass of red liquid. Bradley gave a two finger salute, strutting over to the group and ordered his go to--a pitcher of beer.

“Greetings, fellow myths and legends,” he drank half of the pitcher in a single gulp, winking afterwards, “at least to the humans that is.”

“What took you so long, Bradshaw?” Jake twirled his pue cue, “too busy brushing your winter coat? Or did you have to get one last howl at the moon?”

Used to the jabs, Bradley rebutted with, “Jake, good to see you again as always. You’re looking a little pale though--Did you not have time to drain a virgin before coming? I’m sure Pete can find someone in the nearby town.” Reuben whistled under his breath, Javy letting out a fool blown laugh.

“C’mon you gotta admit that was good,” he nudged Jake, who was very much offended.

“Men,” Y/n muttered, Natasha clicking her glass against hers in agreement. “They’ll never change.”

After several minutes of small talk and drinks, Pete tapped his spoon against his glass. The action is loud enough for supernatural hearing to get everyone's attention. For the mad scientists, they saw the reactions of their friends and followed their direction.

At the top of the mansion's grand staircase, Pete stood beside his wife Penny. The beautiful siren, infamous in Greek mythology for luring shipwrecked men to their death, was stunning in her black gown. Along her arms and neck, rimming her hairline were seafoam green scales, reflecting under the dim gaze of the lights.

“Good evening, everyone,” he began, “Thank you all for coming tonight. You’ve traveled from near and far, let my wife and I be the first to say Happy Halloween!” cheers broke among the crowd. Well really they were howls, moans, and chaotic laughter. “It truly is the best night of the year. And what better way to kick it off than to toast.” Penny was handed a glass of her own red liquid. To the human eye it’d be believed as wine. But to those witnessing below, they were well aware of what its contents contained.

Speaking of those in attendance, they all grabbed their own drinks and brews. Pete lifted his first, “Let us toast to the one time of year we get to leave the shadows. Where the world looks at us as more than creatures of night. They dress up as us,” chuckles echoed, “they consume everything in relation to us. They walk their streets oblivious to the fact we roam behind their shoulders.” Pete pauses, sending a sweet gaze to Penny. “To All Hallow’s Eve!”

“To All Hallow’s Eve!!’ glasses raised, everyone cheersing before downing whatever was left in their goblets. Bradley finished his first pitcher of beer, the bartender sliding down the next one. Natasha poured something out of her flask into her goblet. Leave it to the Witch to travel with her own brew.

“Alright,” Bradley raised the pitcher, “Let’s get this party started!” As if on cue the DJ, who happened to be a mummy, started to play the Halloween classics. Lights flashed on every corner, the dance floor glowing a spooky fluorescent green. Dry ice from the massive cauldron flooded the area.

Ghosts bogeyed during the Ghostbusters theme. Zombies got down and dirty to Michael Jackson’s Thriller. The children had a blast with ‘This is Halloween’ and ‘Time Warp’. Later on Nat and Y/n let loose to Rockwells ‘Somebody’s Watching Me’.

Bob kept his eyes on his wife during that one. Lowkey thinking about ending the party early.

Poker was played amongst the men. Pete even joined alongside two Harpys, Beau and Solomon. During this Y/n and Natasha conversed with Penny. They spoke of Y/n’s experiments, Natasha’s feud with the village she resides by, and Penny’s travels back to Greece earlier that year.

“Oh it was fascinating,” Penny boasted, finishing off her third glass of ‘wine’. “Still as beautiful as I remember, although it still takes time getting used to the fact they now call Anthemoessa ‘Cape Pelorum.’”

“Did you visit the Parthenon?”

“I tried,” the Siren scoffed lightly at the memory, “at night of course when no one was around, but I couldn’t get past the damn door. I’m not surprised though,” she rolled her eyes, “Athena never liked us.”

As Midnight approached the crowd began to gather on the dance floor. Of course the night could not end without playing the couple’s favorite. Once the DJ announced it was time for the grand event, Bob took Y/n’s hand, “May I have this dance, wife?”

“Why of course, husband,” she smirked. “This is our song after all.”

The others had already made way, forming their own little circle and grabbing partners of their own. There was a reason this particular song was favored over the rest. Starting from the very first verse.

“I was working in the lab, late one night. When my eyes beheld an eerie sight. For my monster from his slab, began to rise. And suddenly to my surprise.”

“He did the mash,” the moves Y/n and Bob started to do a twist, similar to Vince and Mia in the iconic dance scene of Pulp Fiction. “He did the monster mash.”

“The monster mash, it was a graveyard smash.” Natasha shimmied with Mickey. “He did the mash, it caught on in a flash.” Penny was spun by Pete. “He did the mash. He did the monster mash.”

A stunning succubus had managed to pull Jake under her spell. How fitting.

“From my laboratory in the castle east. (Wa-ooh) To the master bedroom where the vampires feat. (wa-wa-ooh) The ghouls all came from their humble abodes. (Wa-ooh) To get a jolt from my electrodes.”

Bob pulled Y/n to him, dancing chest to chest, “They did the mash, they did the monster mash.” Javy, Bradley, and Reuben were having a dance battle in the middle of the circle. “The monster mash, it was a graveyard smash. They did the mash, it caught on in a flash.” Y/n giggled, letting Bob twirl her in a circle, “They did the mash, they did the monster mash.”

It was a total spooky vibe. Monsters doing the Mash. Each time Dracula was mentioned everyone pointed to Pete, who rolled his eyes. He did, however, do the Transylvania Twist during its name drop, causing them all to hype him up.

The sun would rise at dawn, they’d all go back to living in the shadows. Back to a place where they were the villains of every story. Subjected to demise by the hero. No longer idolized and embedding fear in everyone who dared think of them. Once the sun rose, another Halloween had come and gone.

But until then, creatures of the night thrived in the darkness to the graveyard smash.

………

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mythandlaur · 10 months

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Code: July Day 1 - Heroes

I can't guarantee anything, especially when I'm fixating on at least four different things at once, but I figured it might be fun to do at least a couple of days of this...as long as I really limit myself to shorter things for real this time.

Took this prompt in a slightly different direction, because I have a lot of thoughts about this scenario sitting in one long post in my drafts.

...

"Ghk--well, this is awkward."

"Man, that ghoul really just gunned it for you!"

"Well, he did blast it first, and it makes sense to try and take him out early."

Aelita waves a hand for silence. "All right, all right. Lothian, you're paralyzed and can't talk. Tomoe, it's your turn."

Aelita leans over the graph paper they'd spread out on the rec room floor, slapping an orange sticker on the drawing Odd had done of William's character. A trading card Ulrich happened to have was standing in for the offending ghoul in question.

William crosses his arms, pouting. "My constitution is a...uh..." He checks the paper he'd brought with him. "...+3, I totally should've passed that."

"Hey, that's how the dice go sometimes," Yumi says with a shrug. "Aelita, can I use my sneak attack on a dagger throw since there's an enemy next to it?"

"The enemy's incapacitated, so no."

"Darn." Yumi reaches over and moves her own character's drawing next to the ghoul card. "I'll just run up here and swing my sword at it, then, try and get its attention. You're welcome, Lothian."

"Tha--" William pauses, seemingly remembering that he's not supposed to be able to speak. "I mean, mrhphrh."

Ulrich snorts, covering his mouth with one hand as Yumi rolls some dice. "A fourteen hits," Aelita tells her.

"My blade cleanly slices into the ghoul's side."

"As it's an undead, its wound heals over quickly--but not completely. You definitely hurt it. The ghoul seems pretty upset!"

"Good." Yumi grins.

Odd squints. "Aren't you supposed to be an assassin? Y'know, sneaky?"

"It's not like we really have an option here."

"True."

"Thoron of Moron, you're next."

"Uh..." Odd scratches the side of his head. "...So they're gonna start shredding."

"Bardic Inspiration?"

"Yeah, on Tomoe. Hang in there!"

Yumi throws Odd a thumbs-up from across the papers while Aelita puts a purple sticker on Yumi's character.

"Edmonton?" Aelita turns her gaze to Jeremie, raising an eyebrow. "Do you have a plan?"

Jeremie frowns. "I did, but Lothian's too close."

"I think he can handle a little bit of fire," Ulrich quips, though there's no actual venom in his voice.

"Hey!"

"You can't defend yourself."

"I'm here too," Yumi points out, gesturing at the tokens.

"You have +4 dexterity, you're gonna be fine."

"...I think I'm gonna blind the ghoul."

Aelita nods. "That roll works, describe what you do."

"Uh..." Jeremie shifts awkwardly in place. Unlike Odd or William, he's definitely not as good at describing things like this--it's the main reason he'd rejected the idea of DMing them, despite knowing all the rules best and having inadvertently introduced the game to them.

"Go on," Odd encourages, "Just do something cool!"

"I...hold up my wand and the crystal on it glows bright green, and--" Jeremie shuffles the papers in front of him--"shoot, it's verbal--uh, I shout...I take your sight, fiend! And a bolt of light shoots out into its eyes."

Odd and Ulrich snicker to each other, but nod encouragingly when Jeremie glances over at them. Aelita mirrors them. "The ghoul lurches back, crying out in alarm! Its flailing almost causes it to smack Lothian with a claw." William narrows his eyes and grunts. Aelita stifles her laughter. "But it's all turned around now. It's blinded for one minute! Vestan Valewind?"

"Um...battleaxe it in the side."

"So you're moving up to here?" Aelita points at a square.

Ulrich shrugs. "Sure. And I'm gonna use a superiority die to distract it."

"That hits, it turns towards where it thinks you are and--its wounds have stopped visibly healing, it's quite hurt. It tries to bite at you...but has disadvantage, and misses. Lothian, can you roll constitution?"

"Thirteen plus three."

"You're no longer paralyzed!"

"Okay." William squares his shoulders, and the others glance between themselves with knowing looks as he reaches over to move his 'token' backwards. "I back up with a dangerous light in my eyes and raise my greatsword, pointing it at the ghoul. I call on the vile power within me to smite this beast with an Agonizing Eldritch Blast!"

Aelita doesn't say anything immediately, grabbing the d20 off the paper and rolling it behind her screen.

William's eyes widen. "Oh not now."

"Is that a real not now?"

"That's a what are you gonna do to me not now."

"...I'm going to do nothing, because the spell works as intended."

"Thank god." William clears his throat, aggressively pantomiming. "My eyes turn jet black for a moment, and a bolt of black lightning surges up through the sword and into the ghoul's chest!"

"The ghoul is very hurt, now. Tomoe, you may actually be able to--" Aelita's watch starts beeping, startling everyone. "Oh, that's rehearsal..."

"Man, right at the cliffhanger too," Odd whines.

"It's not much of a cliffhanger," Yumi points out, as Jeremie takes a picture of the token positions with his phone and Aelita gathers up her things. "That was actually really simple compared to the rest of the dungeon. Suspiciously simple." She squints at Aelita.

Aelita merely giggles. "Maybe so. All I'll say is you all are terrible about leaving doors open behind you."

Ulrich's eyes widen, and he smacks the ground with a fist. "We've been followed!"

"I knew I should've sensed magic!" Jeremie puts his face in his hands.

"Hey, it's fine," Odd says, scooping up his 'tokens' and putting them in his own pocket. "Just more guys to beat up, right?"

"This is Aelita," William points out, "Who says we're fighting them? Might be another puzzle..."

"You guys are making an awful lot of assumptions." Aelita throws her bag over her shoulder, still smirking to herself as she crosses the room (passing Milly and Tamiya on the couch, who are currently pretending they've been talking to each other the whole time and not listening). "I'll see you all at dinner--Yumi, I'll see you tomorrow."

There's a chorus of 'bye' and 'have fun', and Aelita gives them all one final wave before heading out the door, leaving the group sitting around on the floor. Without Aelita there, William still makes the air between them somewhat awkward--but the game had honestly helped with that a great deal, even over the few Sundays they'd been doing it.

"You should really get some cooler looking spells, Jeremie," Odd says, standing up. "You don't have to minmax everything for us."

"I'm not here to look cool, Odd. Besides, I'm no good at this stuff."

"Oh yeah, and I haven't heard you getting crazy into playing Villainous Mastermind."

"He has?" William raises an eyebrow.

Jeremie cringes under his gaze. "I wasn't that into it."

"You kidding? You were adjusting your glasses like an anime character, and--he has this evil laugh he never does but it's actually pretty spooky. I'm glad he's on our side."

"Odd!"

"I'm just saying, maybe try loosening up a little! You might have fun!"

William weakly raises a hand. "Hey, actually, Edmonton knows a lot about arcana stuff, right? ...Maybe he and Lothian can work together. If--uh, if he's okay with it, that is."

Jeremie turns to look at William, who quickly wilts, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Jeremie's silent for a few seconds, clearly in deep thought, the tension thickening.

"...Yeah, maybe," Jeremie says, ducking his head. "Maybe they could do that."

#code lyoko #codejuly23 #had an embarrassing amount of tabs open for this #also hi hen c:

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jinmukangwrites · 1 year

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Linked Universe: Choose Your Own Adventure [4]

Master Post

Character Health and Inventory

Previous Part

---

(Medium Risk with 71%)

---

In the matter of moments, Twilight finds himself only able to think of the battle before him. The group of them have gotten very good at fighting by themselves but keeping an ear out for the others as of late. Code words have become something often used between them. Calls for help, shouts to clear space for a large attack, signals for incoming danger they didn't initially realize.

Twilight falls easily into the comfort that he can fight his opponent before him, and focus on nothing but that opponent. He has faith the others will deal with their enemies, and if anything goes wrong and a Wolfos tries to sneak up on him, then Wild will take them out with his deadly, pin-accurate shots before Twilight can notice.

The Wolfos snarls, slobber dripping from its snout, before it pounces forward. This time, Twilight's able to bring up his shield and block the blow.

While the monster recovers from raking its claws against solid steel, Twilight slams his shield arm forward straight into its face.

He can feel the crunch of long, fragile bones breaking with the force of the slam. The monster howls, stumbling back with blood leaking from its nose.

Red, thankfully.

"You call yourself a wolf?" Twilight taunts despite knowing the creature probably couldn't understand him. "An insult to the noble creatures. I should know."

He swings his sword forward, feeling the air itself slice with the blade. The weapon sings on target, tearing a gash through fur and hide. Blood pours from the new wound stretching across the monster's chest.

It shrieks, gurgling and choking on its own life. Twilight doesn't allow the creature to recover before sliding his boots through the ground, repositioning himself, and swinging the sword back the other way. The sword slices violently through gullet, not deep enough to decapitate, but deep enough for the monster to fall limply to the ground and suffocate to death within mere moments.

By the time Twilight turns around, all the other Wolfos have been downed. One in particular looks suspiciously like a pincushion as Wild attempts to salvage what arrows he can.

Everyone looks unhurt. In fact, most of them look quite exhilarated. It may have been an unwanted battle, but good battles always lift morale.

"Okay," Legend huffs, wiping blood off his sword on the edge of a nearby boulder. "What do we do now-?"

A flash of purple illuminates the sky in the distance, startling everyone into turning around and raising their guards.

"Should we uh," Four starts hesitantly as the purple flash slowly dissipates below the canopies of the trees, "check that out?"

"You want to go toward the weird purple light?" Wild asks, giving him a raised eyebrow.

"Purple light is textbook bad guy stuff," Legend says, frowning, "our kind of bad guy stuff, unfortunately. As much as I hate it, we should check it out."

"Agreed; it could be a portal opening," Warriors adds in.

"Old man?" Hyrule asks, turning towards the only one willing to call himself a leader for the group.

Time grunts and folds his arms across his chest. "None of us are injured, and if it's a portal, it's our responsibility. However, we should travel carefully. Someone would have had to opened the portal, someone that would have heard the Wolfos'. Something could be waiting for us."

"Let's get a move on then." Twilight sheaths his sword. "We don't have much daylight left."

-o-o-o-o-

Just as Hyrule had mentioned earlier, there's a river in their way as they step off the path and into the heart of the forest. It's not a deep river, in fact it's probably nothing more than a glorified stream. The middle of the wide river runs calmly over round pebbles, its depths never reaching above the lips of Twilight's boots.

Or well, he thinks it wouldn't reach the top of his boots. However, he's not wearing boots right now. He figured it would be more useful for him to be "Wolfie" for this trek, scouting just a few seconds ahead of the others with superior senses.

It's strange being able to transform without hiding himself first. Yet, it's almost just as relieving as it is strange. He knew none of the others would... react badly to the revelation of his shifting forms. Yet, fears are not exactly reasonable.

He's just glad that it's over with.

The group travels across the river, then into the trees beyond, silently. It's not a long walk, in fact, before long, the purple hue of the mysterious light could be seen weaving through the grass and the edges of leaves.

Twilight stops in his tracks, fur beginning to stand straight up along his back.

The others notice his stressed position, and fall still behind him, silent.

Just through this final line of trees is a clearing. Tall grass blows gently in the sunset breeze. Just as suspected, a portal glows eerily from the center of the clearing, a mix of swirling purple and black.

But that isn't the only thing in the clearing, and the breeze isn't the only thing causing the grass to blow.

Laying on the ground, like a large boulder, lays a sleeping mound; its snores strong enough to rival the wind.

"Hinox," Wild breathes, barely loud enough to be heard over the snores and his eyes wide in shock as his fingers are already making their way towards his bow.

Legend rolls his eyes. "Of course that beast is one of yours," he says quietly, matching Wild's tone.

"No," Wild replies, "this doesn't look like the ones back home. There's black ones, but this one..." The Hinox snores, a single unconscious eyelid opens just a sliver before closing again, revealing a pure red iris.

Twilight internally groans.

"Do you think it's infected?" Time asks, giving a narrowed look at the beast.

"Knowing our luck?" Wild replies helplessly, looking pale.

"So what," Legend says, "I say we sneak past it, the portal's right there and it's asleep."

"The closer we get to it, the sharper it's hearing is," Wild replies. "I've gotten good at sneaking up on these guys, but that took months. Don't take this the wrong way, but some of you aren't the best at stealth."

Time frowns, and Twilight can't help but agree. Most of the chain has found themselves quite good at brute forcing their ways through things while Wild nearly seemed to be the only one who could actually walk without his footsteps making a sound. Sneaking past the thing would be risky indeed.

"We don't have to be completely silent," Legend says, pointing towards the clearing. "We can go around the clearing out of its hearing, then approach the portal from the other side. If it hears us, it'll have to wake up and go around the portal before it can reach us. By then, we can be running. I'm not good at sneaking, but running is something most of us can do."

"... Or we could ambush it."

Everyone glances down at Hyrule, who blushes but stands his ground.

"Even if the Collector is right, that's still real risky," he continues. "It could be faster than we think and cut us off from the portal. We might as well attack it all at once while it's sleeping. We could kill it before it can even have a chance to stand up."

Time nods. "We can have Champion sneak up on it, and get the first hits in. Do you know it's weaknesses?"

Wild nods. "It's eye. I can usually get a good shot in on these things before they get smart and cover their eyes. It's pretty reliable to stun them that way."

"You can stun it," Warriors says, "and we can hit it with everything we've got before it recovers. Then we don't have to worry about sneaking at all."

"I don't know... I like Collectors idea," Four says. "Infected monsters are unpredictable and crazy strong. I don't think going in with swords swinging is a good idea."

"I agree," Sky says. "We shouldn't push our luck."

"Maybe there's another way?" Wind adds hesitantly, but he doesn't offer any new ideas. Clearly, he looks weary about fighting such a large, unfamiliar monster.

Stats: Twilight gains 1d6 of HP (100/100HP)

If it felt forced that the group came to this portal, no worries. This is a tutorial, once we reach Chapter 1, it should be more free exploding for you guys :) just gotta get y'all there first.

#linked universe #jin writes #choose your own adventure #fanfiction #blood tw #canon typical violence

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hxney-lemcn · 2 years

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It's a Match! — Leviathan x gn! reader

Summary: Reader realizes their nail polish matches Levi's eyes and an awkward confession ensues.

tw: none.

a/n: Got this idea from the nail polish I have lol. On another note, I've been trying to align right for the longest (I literally tried to code it in), so apologies for the shitty text message portion.

wc: 0.9k

Master List

Letting my nails dry, I stared at the way it shined in the light. I’m not too big of a fan of the color orange, but this color seemed oddly familiar. Tilting my hand down, the color turned into a slight purple. Moving it back up, it was an orangish yellow. Just like the name of the color, it indeed looked like a sunset.

My D.D.D. went off. I carefully picked it up, not wanting to mess up my nails. A text from Levi was shown.

Levi: (Y/n)

Levi: Look at your phoooone

Levi: It’s been 40 secs

I’m here

What’s up?

Levi: You have to come to my room

Levi: ASAP

Omw

Carrying my D.D.D, I made my way to Levi’s room. Knocking on the door, he asked for a password. Replying with the secret password we made for each other, he granted my entrance. Levi started to ramble about some otome game he just got today, but my mind wandered elsewhere.

Glancing at my nails, they were a slight purple under the blue light of Levi’s room, but the orange was still there. And low and behold, I looked up at Henry 2.0. The colors were a perfect match (minus the purple)! I walked over to the tank, and held my hand up as Henry 2.0 swam closer to the glass.

“What are you doing?” Levi asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“I match with Henry 2.0,” I pointed out, moving to an angle where Levi could see. I felt a little giddy as Levi’s eyes seemed to light up. But this led me to another realization. Levi’s eyes matched my nail polish almost perfectly. The orange yellow into purple was a one on one match! “Omg wait, my nails match your eyes better,” I said, walking over to him.

Levi seemed to shrink into himself slightly, his face ablaze as I raised my hand level to his eyes. And I was right! I turned my nails down and the way they turned purple like Levi’s eyes made me smile slightly. From when I first met Levi, my first thought was how pretty his eyes were. Who knew I’d stumble upon a nail polish color that resembled him so greatly! Of course the nail polish could never hold a torch to his actual eyes.

Backing away, I took a seat in the gaming chair Levi bought me (no matter how much I begged him not to). I scooted in front of his pc, the otome game he was talking about still on its title screen. The sweet melody of the title screen played, but Levi still seemed to be shocked. I looked back at him with confusion.

“You good?” I asked.

“Y-y-yeah!” Levi sputtered, fumbling to pick up his controller. I didn’t think anything of it, Levi got flustered over the smallest things after all. I pointed out the characters I thought Levi should pursue in the game, gave out my opinions on the character design, and insulted the characters I found annoying. Levi on the other hand, was oddly quiet, his cheeks still a slight pink tint and I noticed his eyes darted to my nails.

Was he put off by my nails? I didn’t mean anything weird, in fact I used this color without any real reason, it just happened to match his eyes. I felt a bit nervous though, his quietness throwing me off. I fidgeted with the sleeves of my hoodie, not sure how to handle this situation. I mean is something actually wrong? Or is my anxiety just flaring up?

“I can change my nail polish,” I spoke up, not liking the awkward tension.

“No!” Levi shouted, startling me. I looked up at him with wide eyes. He looked away, his face fully flushed once more, stammering out an explanation, “I, I mean, uh, it’s…it looks nice…not like I care about your normie hobbies.”

I blinked, normie hobbies? His nails are literally painted an indigo color. But okay, let’s just ignore that last part. He liked my nails? So that’s why he keeps looking at them?

“Thank you,” I grinned, feeling giddy again. “I like your nails too, the color matches you.”

Levi covered his face with his hands, his controller in his lap, “This is just like that one anime ‘My crush is a demon and I’m trying to give them hints about my feelings’.” (Levi would never admit that he only watched that to imagine the two of you as the main characters)

That was…kinda lowkey oddly specific to this situation. You really couldn’t think of a title huh, author…(No, I couldn’t).

“Kinda like us,” I said without thinking. Then I realized what I just confessed. But I suppose I can't back out of it now.

“Wha-WHAAAA?” Levi shouted, turning redder than before somehow. I felt my body heat up, and looked down at my hands.

I shrugged, trying not to freak out because that would make Levi freak out, “How does the anime pan out?”

“Uh, Uhm, ah,” Levi fumbled, was he going to pass out? “Th-they end up confessing and get together.”

“Hm,” I hummed, trying to think of something witty to say. This was Asmo’s forte, not mine. “Perhaps our story will end the same way. I like you Levi, as more than a friend.”

‘Aaaaaand he’s gone,’ I thought as he fainted.

#levi #leviathan #obey me #x reader #levi x reader #leviathan x reader #levi obey me #leviathan obey me

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hopeymchope · 2 years

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2022: The Rise of the Sneering, Manipulative Protagonist!

...and I mean that in the BEST possible way.

Based on my other writings on this Tumblr, you might read that headline and expect this to be a teardown of the characters I’m referring to. After all, you might think that a certain purple-haired lad with a checkerboard scarf could be described with the same words. But I say thee NAY! I come not to condemn the heroes of Tomadachi Game and Trapped in a Dating Sim, but instead to praise them!

So: Over the past couple of months, I’ve fallen in love with two boys who have truly embraced the notion of being the hero people need even if they’re not the one people want. Not only are they really compelling characters in their own right, it’s also interesting to see how their attempts to “playing the bad guy” contrast with somebody I’ve previously ragged on in this blog quite a bit.

But we’ll get there. First, let’s talk about these two guys with their somewhat-similar solutions to problems as well as their obviously-similar hairdos.

We begin with Yuuchi Katagari, the protagonist of Tomadachi Game. (Which should really have been translated as “Friendship Game” for English audiences, but I guess someone in localization did precisely 1/2 their job and then rolled over for a nap or something.) Tomadachi Game is about Yuuchi and his friends getting trapped in a series game “rounds” where huge amounts of money are on the line — and unfortunately, huge amounts of debt are given to them from the outset. The kind of amounts that could destroy them and their families. I’ve given a VERY spoiler-free shout-out to it before. (And dont worry. I’m not gonna spoil either of these anime/manga/light novels beyond their setup details.)

The rest of the jist is that it soon becomes clear that the game is rigged towards making them all lose, and Yuuchi? He’s not going to let his friends destroy their lives. But he’s not going to let whoever’s behind the scheme get away with it, either. He wants justice.

A face you can trust. Clearly.

So, although Yuuchi starts off seeming pretty wholesome, once the titular game gets underway and shit begins to get real, he is soon looking a lot more... unhinged. He starts using his intelligence to manipulate everybody around him in such a manner that will lead to exposing more and more information about the game and its mastermind. Yuuchi is willing to act like an absolute maniac if that’s what he thinks the people in charge will want and need to see. He’ll embrace the role of villain externally, but at the same time, he’s working to keep his friends from suffering for their involvement — that is, provided their involvement is innocent. In the course of his actions, he appears to be manipulating all of his friends at times. And sometimes, it’s true. But even that manipulative appearance might be a maneuver in itself in certain cases — cases where, in reality, he’s being totally being upfront and honest with some of them while fronting for other people’s sake.

It can sometimes be hard to figure out when he’s legitimately winning a game and when he’s legitimately losing one, because he just fronts so goddamn well. He’s easily one of the smartest characters I’ve seen in an anime — I’ve seen one YouTuber compare Yuuchi to the likes of Lelouch from Code Geass or Light from Death Note. And who doesn’t enjoy watching these sorts of master manipulators? .... Especially when they get to unload on people who’re much, much shittier. Having to act like a douchebag to other decent people? That may be necessary at times, but it kinda sucks. The complete jackasses though? Those are always the highlights.

Sure, he’s probably not gonna do it, but I mean... he’d be pretty justified if he did.

Even as things get tougher/darker for Yuuchi and he questions his own morality, starting to think that he really is a bad person at heart... the audience at home never has much reason to doubt his goodness. Even when he reveals some dark secret about his past, it inevitably seems to lead into a context that is actually NBD. And even when some of his friends seem to turn against him, he’s quick to forgive and bring them back under his protection — which they readily embrace. The result is surprisingly heartwarming.

Aw, see? He’s just an innocent lil’ fluffhead.

It just takes a little bit of honest communication to make his manipulative “villainy” into twisted teamwork. And sure, he stumbles a little bit — at one point he’s mean to one of his friends just because he wants to drive her away from him so she’ll be safe. But that same damn night, he rushes to be there for her and makes it all up to her. So even when he’s legit acting like an asshole, he can recover from those events pretty quick. Just because he’s playing 4D chess and acting like a psycho for external observers doesn’t mean he’s being a selfish dick about it for those who matter to him, and I love that.

I might love Leon Fou Bartfort even more, though — it’s hard for me to say. I just *might*.

Claims to hate “hot guys.” Is actually kinda hot though?

Leon’s the protagonist of Trapped in a Dating Sim: The World of Otome Games Is Tough for Mobs. YEAH, it’s one of those overlong titles that tells you “Oh, this is based on a series of light novels.” And it’s even a dreaded isekai story.

Historically, I don’t care for isekais much. Not only are they WAY overdone these days (and even when I write it in all caps and/or bold it, “WAY overdone” feels inadequate to explain just how fucking much isekai is out there currently), but I’ve found precious few of them do much with the conceit that feels unique. I do think Konosuba is pretty funny overall (though it has its obvious downfalls), and I adore the reverse-isekai The Devil is a Part-Timer! But in truth, I think I got more deeply invested in TiaDS than either one of those. This damn thing is something special.

The setup: Leon finds himself reborn in an otome game in which the matriarchical society allows noblewomen to attend an academy in their young adult years. Said academy is ostensibly about academics and etiquette, but it’s really about the men trying to impress the women that they’d make good husbands. Leon’s sister made him play this otome game to completion back in our world, and now, Leon hopes to use his knowledge of the game’s world and events to avoid any danger or drama. Initially, that seems like it’ll be easy because he’s just a background NPC of lower birth. But naturally, he soon finds that he’s going to face a horrible fate if he doesn’t achieve some level of nobility that will get him out of his predicament. And when he swiftly pulls THAT off, he’s forced to attend the same academy as all the game’s central characters. So once again, he tries to stay away from them and avoid their problems. And once again, he predictably cannot leave well enough alone. Both his moral code and his extreme irritation with the school’s highest nobility make him unable to stand aside and let things play out. That’s when he realizes that if he wants to both monitor what events are coming/what “route” the game is on AND also give some comeuppance to those who treat others as “lesser,” he needs to embrace acting like a douchebag. He must vilify himself to become the hero this world deserves.

“Do you ever wonder why there are so many treasure chests throughout these dungeons? Like: Who put them there, and why?” “Nope. Sure haven’t.”

Leon is nowhere near as smart as Yuuchi, though. Even as he attempts to manipulate events through his behavior, his plans seem to backfire almost as often as they succeed. Sometimes he self-sabotages by acting impulsively. Leon is also probably a worse person than Yuuchi because he lacks Yuuchi’s self-doubt and self-awareness. It’s not too surprising when Leon starts to genuinely enjoy his cruelty on occasion, turning him into something of a “toxic gamer” type who verbally abuses others as he takes them out. (Yes, this supposed otome game has combat in it. Combat with mechs, even. Go figure.) But honestly, if gloating over people he beats in combat is his biggest sin? I think we can handle that. .... Though it is pretty rude, tbh.

Even with that character flaw, however? Leon waffles on his ability to fully play the villain role he’s assigned himself. Yuuchi is much more dedicated; Leon can’t help but make moves behind the scenes to help his enemies out so they don’t suffer overmuch for his actions. Even when he’s in the midst of a fight for his life, he refuses to kill anybody — something which his A.I. companion notes could definitely come back to bite him in the future.

That’s right, Leon has an A.I. companion: Luxion! Luxion was once housed within a robot that attempted to kill Leon. After a simple bit of reprogramming and a transition to a far less intimidating body, he now serves Leon with politeness that only barely masks his grumpiness and loathing. Their back-and-forth is really funny, and it’s cool to see how they gradually come to like each other at least a little more with time.

Leon gives Luxion the privilege of naming his mech suit.

Even better, though, is Leon’s personal growth as he learns things about himself and how to treat others by comparing his behavior to that of the people around him. You see other characters in this world who first appear one-note come to show FAR more nuance, too.

Plus, as I’ve said before, the English dub for this show is just insanely fucking good. Top-tier.

As much as I think Leon is great? I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention how cool Angelica is, too. By the end of the season, she was my second-favorite character. Angelica is the otome game’s ostensible villain — the girl who has it out for the protagonist and tries to prevent her from getting with any of the various pretty-boy nobles. She is also, like many of the characters in this show, deeper than she appears on the surface. Viewing the scenario from a different angle gives Leon a new perspective on her whole deal. The same goes for us viewers, presumably.

“Evil” is in the eye of the beholder, my guy.

But let’s get down to business (to defeat the huns): You might be inclined to wonder why I love these guys but despise Kokichi Ouma. After all, isn’t Kokichi ALSO publicly playing the part of the villain in order to draw out a mastermind and end a game — which sounds just like Yuuchi, who I claim to love?

To some of you, I bet the difference is already obvious.

Yuuchi and Leon are both keeping people in the loop on what they’re doing, and they avoid unnecessary cruelty (plus they try to make up for it with quieter acts of kindness). Yuuchi does try to do the “convince his friends that he’s evil” thing a couple of times, but he swiftly backs down on it in less than 24 hours. Because as soon as they need someone, he can’t help but be there to stand up for them. And Leon? Leon never tries to push his friends away. His initial pals at the academy, Dan and Raymond? They are ALWAYS in the loop on his plans. HIs newest friends, Olivia and Angelica? Even though he just met them, he’s still constantly open with them about what’s going on and why he’s doing it. His performance is only for the people he doesn’t know at all or just doesn’t like.

Part of the fun is in watching them maneuver other people by pretending to be evil and/or psychotic while simultaneously being good-hearted people who show obvious care for others. Yuuchi and Leon are never going to be relentlessly cruel to the people around them without swiftly making up for it, and they’re never going to withhold information that could save lives for personal amusement. That’s only Kokichi’s jam, see?

Be Warned, Though: Neither “Tomadachi Game” or “Trapped in a Dating Sim” are currently a complete story as an anime. Both animes end with the door wide open for future seasons. But if you wish to keep going, the option to explore the source material IS there. Tomadachi Game’s manga is widely available in English online, and the series of Trapped in a Dating Sim light novels even has an official English publication that will take you far beyond the limits of the show. I don’t believe either of those source materials has wrapped up, however. So at some point, you’ll have to hit that wall.

Personally, I’m going to start digging into those light novels first.

#tomadachi game #anti-kokichi ouma #anti-kokichi oma #yuuchi katagiri #leon fou bartfort #trapped in a dating sim #trapped in a dating sim: the world of otome games is tough for mobs #anime #anime reviews #anime gifs #personal essays #essays #danganronpa

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transbuck · 11 months

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if you’re still answering/if you would like to answer any of these! 💛🦚🏳️‍⚧️🌈

thank you!!! i am absolutely still answering (i'm fighting with my wip and its got fucking HANDS)

💛 - Who or what made you realize you were queer?

I knew I was bi as soon as I learned it was a thing, when I was like, 13 and on the internet for the first time. like, "you can like BOTH???" and then i figured something was up with my gender in high school but i didn't really figure it out until quarantine and i was spending a lot of time by myself. but there wasn't an isolated incident for that so much as a long and annoying journey asdlkfjaklsd

🦚 - Are there any queer books/shows/etc. that you would suggest?

Okay. Hear me out. Because I'm going to recommend Pushing Daisies which is not explicitly queer in any way there are no canon queer characters. HOWEVER the whole thing is easily read (and likely intened to be) a queer allegory, and was written by Bryan Fuller (same guy who did Hannibal!), who is a gay man. The premise is Ned is a piemaker who has the ability to reanimate the dead (with three simple rules, one of which being if you touch a dead person a second time, they die for good) and he ends up reanimating his childhood best friend/crush Chuck (whose real name is Charlotte). Meaning they can never touch again and have to get creative with their relationship! That's kinda the underlying ongoing plot, with each episode focusing on Ned, Chuck, and Ned's private investigator friend, Emerson Cod, solving murders using Ned's gift. ITS A GREAT SHOW EVERYONE SHOULD WATCH IT AND I'M PISSED IT ONLY GOT TWO SEASONS. (also Ned is very ace coded imo)

🏳️‍⚧️ - What Flag do you think has the best color scheme?

The bi flag honestly, I love that sumbitch. Pink, purple, and blue? Iconic, loud and beautiful. But special shout out to the gilbert baker rainbow flag with sex and magic on it bc those two colours make the rainbow soooo much better

🌈 - What's a Queer Identity, Experience or a piece of History you feel deserves more recognition?

I wish I had a better answer to this, I really need to do more research on queer history and read more experiences. But I do wish there was more focus on gender EUPHORIA as opposed to dysphoria. I never really had dysphoria which is part of why it took so long for me to figure shit out, but I got really happy and excited when people id'ed me as a guy or used masculine terms and he/him pronouns for me! Would love to see more focus on that side of the trans experience :)

send me a pride emoji!

#ask game #THANK YOU MWAH #this got so long i'm sorry #but everyone should watch pushing daisies

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cao-the-dreamer · 2 years

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So I read this post by @pastelpaperplanes and I was like “ah fuck it this is too sad I want to give Crusade a friend” and then my brain remembered HEY WAIT THERE’S ANOTHER BABY AMONG THE CONS!!

Bam plot and fluff were born

One unexpected friendship (feat my fav obscure character) coming right up hehehehe.

*******

If someone had taken a photo at that precise moment, there would only be a blur of colours as a result.

As for Crusade, they had a second to be surprised when they were brutally tackled before fighting instincts kicked in and they tried to use the momentum to roll around and pin their opponent to the ground. Unfortunately, it was like shaking off a Proto-Leech, as the attacker clung to their frame with all their might.

“Getting tired already, teeny?” they taunted.

“Nope,” Crusade shot back with a devilish grin, “I just haven’t used my secret attack yet!”

They threw their hands against the smaller one’s belly and they shrieked with laughter as Crusade began tickling them mercilessly.

“Unfair!!” they called out between two fits of giggles.

“It’s still super effective! Do you yield, Connie?”

A faceful of purple skin was shoved in their visual field before the girl half-heartedly kicked them and finally relented. Both kids dropped on the floor, snickering, then Connie stuck her tongue out at Crusade.

“Cheater.”

“It’s not cheating when it’s a fight,” Crusade stuck their glossa out too.

“Yeah yeah, you’re gonna defeat baddies with tickles now?”

“Why not? You’re just cranky cause I’m not gonna carry you this time.”

“Hey, I make a perfect backpack!”

“A lazy backpack then.”

“Am not!”

“Am too!”

They kept bickering and didn’t notice Soundwave quietly laughing in the background. He then sent a warning ping to Strika, as the following days were going to be filled with double trouble. She responded with a request about unleashing the kids in the same room as Tarn and filming until the purple tank lost his nerves.

Soundwave pinged back with a “will do” just as the minibots gathered around Connie and Crusade with various toys in hands. The purple organic clapped her hands when she saw a frisbee, then grabbed it and threw it at Crusade while shouting “think fast!”

Nobody knew what exactly went through Scorponok’s helm when he created Project Firstborn, but once Megatron heard about it, he promptly shut it down and ordered the scientist to put his brain on more useful matters and focus on the war instead of wasting resources. But Connie had already been born, and Megatron didn’t hurt sparklings, no matter how squishy they were.

In the end, maybe Scorponok deserved a little credit, as the unlikeliest friendship had bloomed between Crusade and Connie.

It wasn’t really a secret the young heir possessed civilian frame coding, it just wasn’t said out loud. However, said coding had given them a more fragile frame compared to other Decepticons, which made Megatron extremely worried about his child getting hurt. And their difference ostracised them from the rest of the Decepticon army, not blatantly, but enough to make them cry in confusion wondering if they did something bad.

But Connie was smaller, more frail-looking, and absolutely didn’t care about bloodlines since she was herself a “freak”. She was literally unable to hurt Crusade. Add the fact the little spitfire loved to rough and tumble, got an extreme (and surprising) resilience, and was unable to shut up (blame Misfire for that), this was the result: Crusade got a playmate with whom they didn’t have to hold back, in sass and in strength. And they both didn’t care about the other’s origins.

Soundwave dodged the frisbee just in time before it smashed him in the face. The disk bounced on the wall, clattered on the floor and Connie launched to grab it. She grinned at Crusade, readied her stance, threw the frisbee…

Which whacked Megatron right in the helm just as he entered the room.

Both kids froze. Megatron raised an eyebrow. Crusade moved in front of Connie, trying and failing to be inconspicuous in shielding her from their carrier’s possible wrath.

But Megatron simply laughed and picked up the frisbee, which looked hilariously small between his digits.

“Your stance is not bad, but you could use a little more force. May I show you?”

Taken aback, Connie nodded. What followed was an improvised class of frisbee with Megatron more often than not receiving the disk in the shins. The kids enthusiastically followed the big leader’s advices, then promptly used him as a jungle gym once they were bored.

Soundwave smiled behind his mask as he witnessed Crusade’s radiant expression spread across their face.

#My writing #crusade #pastelpaperplanes #not my oc #tf connie #connie #the firstborn #transformers #all the kiddy feels

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toongrrl-blog · 10 months

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My Own Style Analysis: Ben’s Dream

This was originally posted on Reddit.

*Warning: The following picture may be NSFW, you have been warned*

“I am Fire and Air” Cleopatra, as imagined by Willy Shakespeare

Ever since I saw this scene, I have been thinking about any possible references that were made here. This is by no mean's an organized think piece and I feel pretty okay about this, I was shocked to see the overt sexuality in this scene (and hoped no one was coerced into performing) but I always felt that Maitreyi had the talent and looks to play a 21st Century twist on the classic Film Noir Femme Fatale and felt vindicated here. In fact my mind went to different places which shall be covered here.

Lighting: First thing we notice is the purple lighting used in the scene, both to set the tone for Ben's lust and love for Devi and to enhance both Maitreyi's and Jaren's physical appeal. In fact, aside from being a color that stands for status and heroism, purple is one of Dr. David Rosenau's color-coded pyramid of intimacy (which also incorporates colors which were so darn persistent in the show and used in the final scene of the series); purple symbolizes touch and passion, the former that Ben was yearning from Devi at that moment and the passion that they mutually held for each other in a way that matches the damned wildfires in our Golden State and in their academic competition. It is also noted that the both of them hated it when Ben wasn't talking to Devi, in a scene where they were both in outfits picking up on each other's greens (bonding intimacy) after he rescued her from getting groped by a Fabio reject and when she showed up high at her house and ruined an apple shaped cake. The dark purplish lighting also helps to accentuate Maitreyi's dark skin and the metallics on her lingerie and makeup which add to another part of her fantasy mystique.

Madame X: In the late 19th Century, John Singer Sargent painted a very scandalous portrait of a red-haired socialite named Virginie Gautreau, an American ex-pat and wife of a respectable French banker. This was a woman with a sense of confidence who knew she was beautiful and owned her sexuality, both no-no's in the 20th Century Western World (actually given how society loves to humble a woman with high self-esteem or bravado, have things changed?) and in a time when women were expected to cover themselves up with layers of fabric and decor, she was wearing a simple curve-hugging dress in black that contrast with her very fair skin with metallic straps and instead of looking demure, she looked proud, this scandalized Parisian society and practically ruined Sargent's career and Gautreau's reputation, it wasn't until later that this flop became iconic, inspiring Rita Hayworth's dress in Gilda, the gold-chain Chanel dress, the allure that later LBDs now possess, and dresses worn by Christina Hendricks in Mad Men Season 4 episode "Waldorf Stories" and Post heiress/Mr. Sheffield's cold ass mom Dina Merrill and even Maitreyi herself in real life.

Makeup: Complementing the metallics of the lingerie are Devi's makeup, which is inspired by the very contemporary Euphoria and I argue, the intro to the 1980s James Bond film A View to a Kill with the models in bathed in a dark light to better accentuate the neon colored makeup, nail polish, hair, and weapons that would glow in the dark. Another thing to note is that while Devi's lip gloss enhances the natural pink in them, her eye makeup and manicure are bolder and match her nose ring; this is likely a call back to how the 2020 COVID-19 Pandemic impacted makeup trends in sales, with lipstick taking a dip along with economics (a reversal of a trend that was first noted in the Great Depression) while eye makeup sales soared as people found ways to experiment with different colors and designs while keeping safe with masks. Her look is likely even a shout out to Alexa Demie's Euphoria character Maddy Perez, who like Devi and Maitreyi, is a young WOC and Hollywood newcomer flawlessly portraying a complex, flawed, and charismatic young woman who isn't afraid to go ham. The big thing is that Ben is (thankfully) not Nate Jacobs: both being privileged white boys who've internalized the Patriarchy, but while Ben is obnoxious and hiding his vulnerability and abandonment issues with bravado and only achieved some semblance of popularity through is background and connection to others in the Hot Pocket, Nate however has his toxic traits enabled or even encouraged by his parents and is positively horrifying in his treatment of Jules and Maddy and is the BMOC. But rest assured no one is getting almost strangled after tossing a pot of chili after being slut-shamed.

Flame: Sex has always been symbolized by elements (old films used beaches and other forms of water to imply acts of sex and passion) and fire was used as a metaphor for sexual desire in songs like "Hot Blooded" and "Somethings Burning"; flame is also used to illustrate a fiery temperament, Ben is well aware Devi is a hothead like her father's hero John McEnroe (the fact that the elder white Boomer male and a teenage South Asian girl are validated for their short fuse is amazing) and contrasts with his doting yet cool parents and she also often dresses in warm colors that highlight her looks and her personality. In fact many iconic female characters have been depicted with fiery tempers or strong personalities (think Joan Holloway, any character played by Joan Crawford and Bette Davis and Maureen O'Hara, Trudy Proud, Betty and Veronica). This not only played to male audiences but also to female ones in more misogynistic times....

Femme Fatales: As an interviewee in Jackie Stacey's Star Gazing noted "I liked seeing strong, capable, and independent types of female characters, mostly because I wish to be like them" and she, along with many female spectators of films in the 40s and 50s, are in awe of femme fatale's and the career women of the era's films own confidence, intelligence, beauty, and wardrobe. In fact the Femme Fatale comes from a long tradition of men using women as scapegoats for shit hitting the fan and society fearing what would happen if women started to own their intelligence and sexuality (yeah why wouldn't a group that's been long subjugated, abused, and exploited burn down the village?); Devi is no stranger to the feminine being pathologized (blamed for Paxton's accident in Season 2, her grief and temporary disability was mocked, been gaslit by Des...yeah no wonder I channel Lucille Bluth when Devi "damages" something), but wait Toongrrl1990 what about her Unfuckable Nerds moniker? One of the forms of gaslighting patriarchal society has done to women is to liken their worth to their appearance and even when they are pretty, is to gaslight them into thinking they aren't enough: think of how much money the diet industry has made post World War One to now, think of male authors finding ways to insist a woman is "pretty but not beautiful" or say "a model she was far from" or even look at what P.J. O'Rourke says about Bimbos. I grew up in the era where Bridget Jones was considered fat at a size 6 and where people said Bill Clinton (who looked like a basic Boomer Dad to me as a kiddo) could have had "hotter" women (even the one that was a pageant winner wasn't enough or even the freakishly gorgeous and Dorian Gray-esque Monica Lewinsky wasn't enough), in fact go read about Golden Era Hollywood stars and you can see many of the iconic beauties were labeled some form of "unfuckable" (Sophia Loren, Bette Davis, Maureen O'Hara, Grace Kelly, Judy Garland, Meryl Streep). Bosley Croeger, a critic, even critiques Rita Hayworth in Gilda as five and a dime in playing her worldly and street-wise characters.

Devi even lives up to the iconic image of the Femme Fatale's aesthetic: having long wavy hair that bounces and matches her lively nature, her shapely legs that get plenty of focus in Devi's costumes, her quotable "snatched waist, slim thicc queen" figure, quick wit and intellect, and inclination to take risks. As with Madame X, Devi deviates in a major way from the image of the FF, as she is South Asian while the other two female archetypes have been traditionally depicted by white and white-passing women. Devi's image in the scene is a double-edged sword: is it empowering to South Asian girls and WOC and AFABs or is it exploitative as Maitreyi is a young adult and WOC have been historically sexualized? Can girl just express her sexuality because she is feeling herself?

The Femme Fatale is also depicted as being manipulative and intelligent, enough to lead some poor shlubs to their ruin; this is called back to Devi saying "I am so much better at school than you" in the dream and managing to take Ben's shirt off without him noticing her doing so. But as discussed in u/Professionalish00 brilliant post, Devi is a Hot Mess and this new archetype is somewhat of a victory and evolution from the Femme Fatale, who sighs with relief that complex and sexual women aren't pathologized like she was. Now we can see her own vulnerabilities and see she's just a woman, trying to survive.

Elizabeth Taylor: To quote Tom and Lorenzo, the late cinematic icon and AIDs activist Liz Taylor was a strong woman who had a rich yet messy life, "but she was never the victim that Marilyn [Monroe] was. She took charge of her life and owned her mistakes, but never stopped pursuing the perfect love, demonstrating a sexual aggression that few women of the period would have been comfortable showing". Also as noted by M.E. Lord in The Accidental Feminist, Elizabeth Taylor was a funny gal with a great appetite for living and like Devi, was something of a man eater (Debbie Reynolds noted that Liz stayed friends with many of her exes) and the opposite of a doormat (except in the film Ash Wednesday and Season 2 after Paxton's accident, which was the point). Like Liz's character Martha in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, Devi possesses an aggression that is still looked down on in women but otherwise tolerated in men (see my notes on McEnroe), encourages Paxton and Kamala to buck the system a la Leslie Benedict in Giant, dealt with having her physical and mental health used as a cudgel against her like Cathy in Suddenly, Last Summer (minus the threat of a big ass ice pick), I would even argue that Liz playing Gloria in Butterfield 8 struck a blow for young women expressing their sexuality (I also love the image in my head of Gloria teaching Devi how to better utilize her hot headedness, especially with lipstick and stilettos) and Devi deep down encourages the best for her loved ones, a passion I saw with Liz Taylor's activism.

Put the blame on Devi...oops Mame: Alas the night ended with Ben showing up high as a kite at Devi's house, driven by his love and lust for Devi, only to ruin her grandmother's cake and implode Devi and Margot (another complex and charismatic woman) efforts to get their parents together. A misogynist would blame Devi for it, in case you think I am off my rocker, watch Shiny, Happy People on Prime or Fundie Fridays on the Duggars and IBLP, remember what Helen of Troy was blamed for or listen to several episodes of You're Wrong About. I would have liked to see Ben really apologize for the UN and all the other shit, but perhaps getting locked listening to Paris Paloma's "Labour" would help (ooof my cramps right now, dang medical science for not finding a way to diagnose menstrual pain without surgery).

So please read this and give me your thoughts, or I'll cry lol.

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miniimapp · 2 years

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can u do an Aaron t x Chinpui crackfic? TYYY

Gen. ;; Fluff + Crack - Imagine/Scenario

Warnings ;; Complete and utter tomfoolery and confusion lmao + Cursing/swearing also

Proofread + edited ;; Nah, I'm tired af lol

Word count ;; 919 words (5100 characters)

Auth. Note ;; THE AMOUNT OF RESEARCH I HAD TO DO BECAUSE I DIDN'T KNOW WTF CHINPUI WAS IS ABSURD. So sorry if anything is slightly off because of this lmao ANYTHING TO APPEAL TO THE NICHE SIDES OF THE 4*TOWN FANDOM !! ANYTHING !! (i have no idea what i've created lmao help-)

this is a bit short, please forgive me haha !! all interactions are platonically coded as this is a first meeting - i found it p hard to write a magical space mouse but here we go, enjoy !! <3

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

T's chest heaved as the backing for U Know Whats Up faded out, heat crawled all over his skin as he held his final pose alongside the rest of his friends. It had been a long day full of rehearsals in preparation for their upcoming concerts but despite the fatigue settling in his bones T's face was split by a huge smile. Nothing would ever feel as freeing as singing alongside his friends - his brothers.

As their manager called for a break, sending praise to everyone that they could, 4*TOWN were handed some cooled water bottles. The cooling trickle of water felt like heaven in T's throat, which had a tendency to feel dry after he hit some of his lowest notes.

As an incredible, amazing plan entered T's mind he felt his grin slip into a mischievous smirk. T noticed Robaire's face pale as he took a couple steps back, and then a dozen more to be safe, and elbowed Jesse and Tae Young. Fortunately, they'd forgotten to warn another poor member, one who was looking eerily like T's next victim.

Holding back premature cackles, T snuck behind Z as he wiped his face with his shirt. Poor guy didn't even know it was coming. In one fluid motion T uncaps his bottle and dumps it all out on Z's head. T dissolved into bouts of snorts and cackles as Z remained stock still. That should've been a warning but what's the fun in that.

As T rolled on the floor laughing he failed to notice Z beginning to move again, flicking water off of his face.

"T, dude, you might wanna-"

"Oh my god, can we not have one normal practice-"

"Anyone got a casket laying around-"

T wheezed, holding his stomach as it started to cramp, barely listening to the world around him. At least he wasn't until heard the countdown and a chill was sent down his spine.

"3"

Oh shit, he'd fucked up now. T scrambled to his feet, glancing at the pitying and smug faces surrounding him.

"2"

No time for dawdling !! This is life or death !! T sprints past some technicians, yelling apologies as he went. He rushed down the stage steps and through the stadium

"1"

Though it was barely audible, the final number within the countdown rang the loudest, seemingly echoing as T ran. Turns out genius ideas have not-so genius consequences.

Not stopping until he found some empty alley a couple streets over from the stadium, T finally let himself collapse against the wall, even more out of breath than he'd been at the end of the last rehearsal.

"Fucking...ahhhh...holy shit...."

T takes sharp breaths as he spews curses into the air, clutching his side that decided to give him a stitch

"God, why won't this ease up for a second !!"

"Chinpui !!"

What- what the fuck ??

A high pitched shout cam from his left as the pain in his side disappeared. T turned to look at the source and found nothing...

"Down here !!"

T frowned but looked down all the same...

"GAH !! WHAT THE FUCK-"

T tripped backwards in a scramble to move away from the giant....thing ?? Mouse ?? Monkey ?? Monkey-mouse ?? WHY IS ITS HEAD SO BIG !? Mouse, right ?? Looking like Mickey's purple cousin Michael fr-

"Haha !! Are you okay ??"

"NO !!"

The big-headed mouse thing just hums and FLOATS OVER HIM-

"I-" T sighs and flops into the ground, tired after his very dramatic day

After a minute or two of lying on the gross alley floor T stands up dusting himself off and grimacing at the feel of the muck on his clothes.

"Great, as if I didn't already feel gross enough." T begins to aggressively brush his clothes, "Get off of me !!"

"Chinpui !!"

T freezes as he feels air pulling at him, like he's being sucked up by a fucking vacuum

"What the shit-"

Once the suction finally stops, T falls forward, bracing himself against the wall before he turns to the apparently magical purple mouse

"What kind of magic genie are you ??"

"That wasn't magic-"

"I think the fuck it was !!"

"-it was scientific method ??"

"As if you pulling a blackhole out of nowhere is any kind of logical or scientific ?? Yeah, okay..."

"It is !!"

"Mhm, sure it is, little mouse dude. Whatever you say, buddy."

"I can access scientific technology by using a key word !!"

"The fact you don't have a name for this "scientific technology" speaks volumes...but anyway, moving on, do you have a name or is it just freaky floating mouse ??"

"I'm Chinpui !! And you're Aaron T, known as T to close friends and family !!"

T frowns and points as finger at the floating alien accusingly, "You a spy drone or something ??"

"Nope !!" Chinpui (if that's even its real name !!) giggles and flies closer to T's face

T hums in thought, questioning all of his life choices in those few seconds, before he felt a stroke of genius enter his mind, and he plasters an innocent smile on his face "Say, Chinpui, my dear pal, my good friend, mi amigo, you ever tried a few practical jokes with your...scientific method ??"

Chinpui does a few log rolls in the air as it thinks, "Not that I can remember !!"

T's smile turns into a mischievous grin, "How about we test that out then, turn our hypothesis into a working theory, yeah ??"

Chinpui giggles and somersaults above T's head, forcing him to look straight up, "Sure thing !!"

"Glad to have you in on the fun, partner !!"

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I think I panicked and blacked out writing this, please don't ask-

Here we go, I hope you enjoyed !! <3

#4town aaron t #4town #4town au #4*town aaron t #aaron t #chinpui #chimpui #crack fic #im scared of my creation lmao #4town aaron z #4town jesse #4town taeyoung #4town robaire #4townie

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hekateinhell · 2 years

Note

Memnoch and Trinity Gate :)

Memnoch (3 fic recs)

This is such a hard one, but I’ll try!

Obviously @monstersinthecosmos Daniel/Armand The Usher collection (I know I’m cheating because it’s a series but it’s Necessary Reading):

@mutantmouse A Collected History because it merges my love of vc and glam rock so beautifully I could cry, definitely going down as one of the greats in vc fic history:

gomicchi’s (I don’t know if they’re on here) At Last, because it reads like a QotD outtake, I live for this—think we can all agree Armand was absolutely feral in the 80s and we love to see it:

Bonus shout out to Kath’s (@armavnd) fic Disintegration because when I read it, I adored it so much I had to invite her over here yes thank ME:

Trinity Gate (character colors)

I feel like I’m cheating again because AR does “color code” them quite a bit BUT

Louis: he gets cast into greens a lot, but I associate him with dark red and lavender too (maybe I’m projecting bc we have the same base physical description and those are my colors)

Armand: books say blue but I usually think either white or black (ya angel or ya devil)

Lestat: royal purple, leopard print (it’s a color, don’t fight me)

Claudia: white, virginal, pure (ha)

Marius: bright red obvs, but I think also grey too (symbolism)

Akasha: gold—after all, she is a Queen

#you ask #hekate answers #arthur I cherish u #I could’ve formatted the links better but #vc asks #vc

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bestcloudcomputingcompany · 2 years

Text

10 Ways Colors can Transform your eLearning

Have you noticed how animation films use color extensively? Why is color so important? Here are 10 ways color can make your eLearning courses a pleasure.

Colors play a big role in animation. In our eLearning courses, we use color palettes to define tone, lighting, emotion, and mood of the course. Finding Nemo is set underwater. What shades of blue to use? How to convey emotions in such a dark space? How to ensure that the main characters stand out? By rendering a few keyframes from the storyboard, color scripts bring these aspects to the forefront for the team to discuss.

Incorporating diversity in your corporate e-learning

E-learning for a multilingual audience

Here are 10 ways we use color in our courses.

Quick Visual Search: Our brains are wired to understand color-coded information quickly- however complicated it might be. Crisscrossing grids of metro maps are easy to read because they are color coded.

Object Identification: We identify objects better when they reflect what we see in real life. A flamingo painted purple confuses our brain because we expect flamingoes to be pink. However, we sometimes use this dissonance to draw attention.

Emphasis: In our eLearning courses, a section highlighted using color shouts out to the brain that it is the most important piece on the screen.

Conveys Structure: Arranging sections of eLearning modules by color gives the user a sense of cohesion.

Establishes Identity: We use color to ensure that our courses are aligned to your brand identity.

Symbolism: Color can also be used to convey feelings and emotions. To make an eLearning module fun, we add more vibrant colors. Yellow-colored Pikachu became Pokemon’s mascot because it was endearing to children.

Improves Usability: In eLearning courses, ‘call to action’ buttons are made in stand-out colors so that the eye is drawn to it immediately.

Mood Setting: The emotions that a bright blue sky or dark grey clouds evoke, are a function of color. We use the same principles in our eLearning solutions.

Shows Associations: When there is a lot of information to map out, we use color to compartmentalize content, and show their relation to each other.

Express Metaphors: In animation films, color is used to express metaphors like ‘green with envy’, or ‘feeling blue’.

Colors are all around us. But its power to enable learning is often underrated. We’ve seen that when the color scheme is thought through, the result is always richer, and more engaging. Hornbillfx is one of the leading Immersielearrning solutions companies in India.

#custom elearning solutions #elearning #custom elearning development #custom elearning content development #elearning content development companies #immersive elearning solutions companies #immersive elearning solutions #elearning solutions #3d immersive learning #Game-based learning solutions companies in India #game based learning #Game-based learning solutions companies #game-based learning #game based

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vvienne · 3 years

Text

RANWAN FIC RECS

Absolute Zero by jitterati

Pathologically solitary academic Chu Wanning left behind a life of research to enlist with the Pan-Pacific Defense Corps Jaeger team when giant monsters began to emerge from the Pacific ocean, eager to leave his personal entanglements behind him and join humanity's collective battle against the threat of extinction.

His goal is to build an artificial intelligence that will allow a pilot to operate a Jaeger mech solo - eliminating the need for pilot compatibility and the mortifying ordeal of being totally known by another person, a "neurological handshake" known colloquially as the drift.

He didn't expect his former students to follow him all the way to front line of the war against the kaiju.

Featuring lots of side character interaction, pining, yearning, questions on the nature of personhood, friendship between jerks, people coping badly with loss, snarky AI, and giant robots. Illustrations by Saika & Daru

Husky and his White Kitten Disciple by JustAMoon123

Within a lonely heart, the seeds of hatred start to grow.

-A 2ha Age and Role-Reversal AU.-

NOTE: This Story is Now E Rated!

[Before meeting Chu Wanning, Mo Ran had drawn his power exclusively from the Wood side of his dual Spiritual Root, and his Qi had always glowed green.

Now, only when in battle did it do so, with Bugui’s blade encased in a tyrannical green light.

Outside of battle, like when he set barriers of warmth; or made Crystal Butterflies to tease golden flowers; or cast a small array to keep a box of food warm, his Qi manifested with a gentle red glow.

Mo Ran’s Wood was destructive, while his Fire was protective.

Ah, Mo Weiyu, Mo Weiyu. Even your power betrays you.]

Burn, Pine, and Perish by moonqueenmaia

It’s been two days since Taxian-Jun’s last visit, and Mo Ran hasn’t touched Chu Wanning at all, beyond gentle and fleeting caresses. Chu Wanning decides to take matters into his own hands by surprising Mo Ran when he comes back to their home after a trip down the mountain.

it's no coincidence (it's a kitty-incidence) by lanzhan (gothguk)

There’s a white cat lounging in the middle of Mo Ran's bed.

to touch you with bare hands (even if it burns) by moonqueenmaia

Chu Wanning is a renowned professor of mechanical engineering at Sisheng Peak University. Beautiful, lonely, and talented beyond belief, he has spent his 32 years mostly by himself, silently and secretly yearning for affection and companionship. Yet Chu Wanning has resolved to himself that he will spend the rest of his life alone, no matter his hidden fantasies.

Enter Taxian-jun, an unruly, arrogant, and struggling student, fiery and domineering, who comes in and shatters the calm of Chu Wanning's life. They enter into an agreement, both burying their feelings underneath a storm of lust and lies. Yet amidst it all, something deeper may be helplessly and slowly blooming.

It is up to them to cultivate it, or destroy it for good.

cursed by devilsoupe

Chu Wanning and his disciples are sent to investigate an abandoned village, and Chu Wanning is hit with a curse.

Mo Ran was determined to treat his shizun respectfully in this life, but what choice does he have?

liar liar cock on fire by lofikv

I (32M) walked in on my roommate (23M) masturbating in our living room. Ever since then I couldn't erase the image of his penis in my mind but I found a sex toy online that is almost as big as him, so I bought it and tried it on myself so that I can imagine how he would feel inside me. I have also been romantically attracted to him ever since we started living together. How can I cope with this?

UPDATE: He caught me in the middle of an emergency.

(Absolute) Unit 311 by devilsoupe

Chu Wanning doesn't have a soulmark.

Neither does Mo Ran.

ducks entering highway by Sectionladvivi

Mo Ran finds out his well-respected, MILF-coded, tears-of-angels-tight-ass robotics professor moonlights as an erotic novelist. He immediately leverages this knowledge for an opportunity to play tonsil hockey.

to yearn by devilsoupe

Chu Wanning starts to cough up flowers. Taxian-Jun is angry. Chu Wanning is not allowed to die pining for someone else.

When it starts happening again in his second life, Mo Ran knows enough to worry.

from blossom to blossom to impossible blossom by Wildehack (tyleet)

Taxian Jun is the victim of a flower curse.

sticky fingers by fakeplasticlily

The man tosses the towel unceremoniously back at Mo Ran’s chest, like he’s personally offended by it. And the fact that his hands had just been all over said chest barely minutes earlier, maybe. “Please pack a box of egg tarts with extra custard filling, a box of red bean paste buns with extra syrup, a rice pudding with extra candied fruit garnish, and a box of osmanthus cakes with extra sweet pear jam.” Mo Ran’s eyes grow progressively wider as he lists the items. It’s him. Not the suburban mother of four, not the elderly guy dealing with a midlife crisis, but quite possibly the hottest guy he’s ever seen. Who also happens to have the highest sugar tolerance Mo Ran has seen in a human being in his two years of running this bakery.

Hard to Love The Lonely Night by bloodsongs

Chu Wanning glares up at him, adjusting his women’s robes. “Still, why couldn’t you have been the wife instead?”

Coughing politely, Mo Ran looks to the side, avoiding his gaze. “Shizun’s skills with the illusion barrier far surpass this humble disciple’s, and, well…”

He doesn’t need to complete his sentence—it’s infuriating, but Mo Ran is now taller than him, broader than him, larger than him. Very much so. The young sapling he raised in Sisheng Peak is now a full-fledged tree, a man built like the mountains Chu Wanning has seen in his travels.

Chu Wanning and Mo Ran pretend to be a married couple visiting a small mountain town to investigate some suspicious disappearances. Mini Canon AU casefic. Contains spoilers up to Chapter 130 or so of the novel.

Purple Ink by jeejaschocolate

Chu Wanning is a robotics engineer who lives a life of isolation and loneliness, only partially due to his chronic illness. Eventually he gets so sick that he requires the help of a full-time medical assistant.

Of course, these days, all those jobs are given to CyberLife androids.

Chu Wanning resents the android they give him. From his fiery eyes to his long black hair, to his incomparable tenderness and consideration for Wanning’s feelings.

He resents him. All the way until he falls in love with him.

Fallen Flowers in Swallows' Nests by bloodsongs

You deserve better—I refuse to disrespect you ever again. I want to be better. I must be better.

But I don’t know how. I don’t know what to do.

I don’t know where Taxian-Jun ends and Mo-Zongshi begins.

I only know now that I cannot lie to myself: I want you so fiercely that I burn with it, I am consumed with the desire to make you mine and mine alone. To become one with you, feeling your fire twine with mine.

Or, Chu Wanning finds letters from Mo-Zongshi that were never shared with him.

These hitherto undiscovered letters cover a range of emotions that weren't present in the book he gifted his Shizun: contrition, yearning, and desire.

Counterpoint by senchafloat

Five years ago, Mo Ran was just a boy who loved playing piano—there were many things he didn't know. He didn't know how capricious and unforgiving the world of classical music could be. He didn't know just how lucky he was to have Chu Wanning as his teacher.

Five years later, Chu Wanning is now a renowned concert pianist, and Mo Ran is an upstart conducting student. When Chu Wanning shows up unannounced at his alma mater, Mo Ran has plenty of questions, along with a desire to prove his worth to his old teacher. But as it turns out, Chu Wanning isn't as invincible as he once seemed. As old secrets come up to the surface, the two of them are forced to reinvent the ways they'll make music together.

impatient to adore you by riverdanceeee

At some heartbreaking point in his life, Mo Ran accepted that Chu Wanning would never reciprocate his feelings, so he dealt with it as any other person would. He'd rid himself of his affection, respect their friendship, and learn to move on. But Mo Ran's affection runs too deep, and when any opportunity to spend time with Chu Wanning knocks on his door, he goes running to answer and accept. Even if it means he has to break up a potentially dangerous dog fighting ring.

To Bow Before A Willow Vine by bloodsongs

“I…” Mo Ran hadn’t thought that far. He shakes his head, lowering his head in deference, resting his forehead against Chu Wanning’s knuckles. "I'll do anything you want of me."

The silence stretches on for a beat too long.

"Anything?" Chu Wanning says eventually, tilting his head.

Written for 2Ha Week, Day 4: Reverse AU for the 0.5 timeline. When Chu Wanning storms Sisheng Peak and crowns himself the cultivation world's new emperor, Mo Ran trades his life for Xue Meng's. Contains spoilers for up to the end of the novel.

Call me by my name by rinsled05

When the man called Taxian-Jun arrives, years later, it’s the coming of a storm.

He sweeps into a dinner appointment between Chu Wanning and a client, clad in black, a smirk tugging at his mouth. Over the spark of irritation, Chu Wanning can’t help but admire his lean frame, the way his hair, cut rebelliously short, falls over smoldering, dark eyes. The way he towers over him, even when Chu Wanning rises to full height.

Chu Wanning’s heart races as Taxian-Jun leans in close, ignoring the shouts and gasps around them.

“Sakaki of Ran,” he purrs in their native tongue. “You’re mine.”

Chu Wanning lifts his chin. “I don’t know you.”

“You will,” Taxian-Jun says, and leaves.

In which Chu Wanning is a courtesan serving Chinese merchants in Nagasaki, Japan, and Taxian-Jun decides to make him his.

荷官牌型 ♠️ The Croupier's Hand by bloodsongs

In deep financial straits after losing his job as a teacher, a desperate Chu Wanning becomes a croupier at Sisheng's new casino.

The once sleepy town of Sisheng Peak grows busier by the day as the casino draws more and more tourists to their mountains. Consumed by his lingering regrets over the worst mistake of his life that destroyed his teaching career, Chu Wanning is too distracted to worry about anything else but his next shift, his next paycheck.

Except that's when Mo Ran, the reason Chu Wanning lost everything, returns to Sisheng Peak.

As the heir to the casino.

White Rabbit Club by minkit

Desperate to rid himself of a few pesky things called virginity and desire, Chu Wanning waltzes into a world he knows little about and right into the embrace of a mysterious stranger who reminds him of the student he's been dreaming about all year. The lust fueled dreams his student stars in are the very reason Chu Wanning applied to the sex club in the first place, and now he's desperate to get rid of these filthy impulses once and for all.

Congratulations, Chu Wanning, on your acceptance into the White Rabbit Club. We hope you enjoy your stay.

Risk and Restraint by purloinedinpetrograd

There is nobody Mo Ran works with who does not love him. He’s worked hard to cultivate this image while he climbs the corporate ladder at Sisheng, and it’s paid off in dividends. He’s in every WeChat group. He can call in favors with any division of any department. He can make even the tightest of deadlines relax their stranglehold on his team.

That is, there is nobody except, of course, Chu Wanning.

A Lingering Sweetness by theherocomplex

Chu Wanning is now all too aware of what he looks like: a dry stick of a man, never handsome, angular and cold and pale. A drab, short-tempered creature, as appealing as a splinter in one's foot. But Mo Ran looks at him as if he will never get his fill, and part of Chu Wanning thinks, What if —?

At the end of the line by PearlAquaBlue

“So … I reckon someone thought you needed to loosen up a little bit. Now that you’re here, want to try it?”

Chu Wanning hangs up. Throws her phone on her pillow with a disgusted glare after it. Stands up and paces to the kitchen in long, angry strides. Her cheeks are burning. With trembling fingers, she grabs a glass and pours herself some water, gulping it down in one go. It doesn’t help much. She grips the kitchen counter tightly, then marches back into the bedroom to glare at the phone again. Her fingertips itch, and it’s as if some kind of magnetic force draws her closer and closer to her bed until her fingertips are but an inch away from that tempting black mirror. Before she knows it, she’s unlocked it unsteadily and pressed “repeat” on the last call.

“Welcome to Sisheng Peak – ”

“And what would that entail?” she asks, a little too breathless.

Let's Fall in Love for the Night by purloinedinpetrograd

Chu Wanning could only stare in horror as a large cloud of sickeningly yellow pollen rose from the field, blanketing the place where Mo Ran stood in a heavy fog. “Um,” he said lamely.

“Fuck,” Mo Ran cursed, and Chu Wanning didn’t even have the heart to chastise him for his coarse language, because he was too preoccupied wrestling the surge of fear at seeing his disciple disappear behind the haze of that indeterminately threatening dust.

A million terrible possibilities raced through his mind, each one more dramatic and gruesome than the last. His heart hammered against his ribcage, threatening to crack the bones. “Mo Ran,” he said slowly, “I think you should tell me what that does, now.”

Xue Zhengyong sends Chu Wanning and Mo Ran on a mission to find a specific ingredient for some concoction of his wife’s. Chu Wanning is torn between rejoicing at the chance to spend time alone with Mo Ran... and grieving over the very same thing.

But, well, it’s just flowers. What could go wrong, right? (Spoiler alert: it’s sex pollen.)

the day dawns in your hues by localshabba

2ha Week 2020 Day 1 prompt - Haitang

---

Schoolteacher Mo Ran is having an ordinary day until he has an awkward encounter with the notoriously rigid school librarian, which leads to the start of something new.

Also features: flowers, dinosaurs and lots of tenderness and pining.

helping hands by verity

When Mo Ran was but a young, innocent, virtuous grad student—well, one of those things—she built that couch from a flatpack box with her own two hands. Over the years, the smell of polyester and cheap foam padding has given way to an equally aromatic blend of Chu Wanning's haitang blossom perfume, spilled coffee, and white lithium grease. Chu Wanning herself is always perfectly dressed without a stain in sight. Even right now, her head tucked onto one folded arm, the other loosely gripping her tablet, she looks so formal.

Mo Ran gently rests a hand on Chu Wanning's socked ankle where it peeks out of those tailored white trousers. She really should behave herself.

She really should... behave herself...

in plain sight by localshabba

Written for a prompt fill in the 2ha Kink Meme.

---

"I have a surprise," Mo Ran breathed, coming to stand so close behind him that his breath landed on Chu Wanning's nape. Not touching Chu Wanning any other way, because he likes to make Chu Wanning lean back just a little bit, to seek out that contact himself.

"I think Chu-laoshi will enjoy it."

Chu Wanning is sure he agreed to the whole idea; he's just unclear on when. Things got hazy around the point when Mo Ran turned him around by the shoulders, got down on his knees and...well. Apparently he'd skipped breakfast that morning.

When he returned to his senses, his clothes were all neatly tucked into place, not a stain on them, and a charmingly pink sexual aid was nestled comfortably up his--ahem, inside him.

---

Now available in Spanish!

casually acquainted by tagteamme

Chu Wanning knows what he is and what he isn’t. And where he lacks in pleasantries and outward appeal, he makes up for in untouchable grace and dignity.

It threatens to unravel once he meets a familiar face in an unfamiliar city.

“So quick to run away from me, Chu-laoshi,” Mo Ran says, voice gently teasing as Chu Wanning refuses to make eye contact with him. “After you came all the way from…”

He trails off, waiting for Chu Wanning to let him know, but he sees the map open on Chu Wanning’s phone and grins wider. “You want directions?”

Chu Wanning clears his throat, and shakes his head. He should say something— instead, he stays silent as he looks down at his phone and punches in the hotel name again.

Happily, his phone tells him to try again when he has signal.

The Right Hand of Light by gedsparrowhawk (FaceChanger)

Chu Wanning is asleep on the bed, clutching his hands tightly to his chest and curled in on himself. He’s still wearing the same robes he was in in the water prison. On the writing desk, a bowl of water and clean linen for bandages sit untouched, and a tub of bathwater has cooled without being used. Mo Ran sighs to himself. Wanning is truly hopeless.

He sits on the side of the bed and touches Chu Wanning’s shoulder. “Wanning,” he says. “Wanning, wake up.”

---

Rare 0.5 tenderness, after the water prison.

nothing can consume you by tagteamme

Mo Ran’s violent history has never had to catch up to him.

It’s already embedded itself into him as scars on his body, as a tattoo on his forearm, as the lingering taste of blood in his sleep and finally, as the searing brand pressed against his chest before he’s thrown into the sea as punishment. He knows that this is where all his chances come to an end.

But as the deep fathom of the water swallows him up, something else saves him and pulls him to a tiny cove tucked away off the coast of an overlooked port town. When he wakes up under the care of a mythical creature wearing a familiar face, an even older and more distant past finally finds him.

#ranwan #2ha #erha #chu wanning #mo ran #2ha recs #fic recs #2ha spoilers

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iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 2 years

Text

if you’re going my way, i’ll go with you - chapter 8

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: All the sides, character!Thomas, minor/background OCs Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Just some background analogical in this chapter, which gets a little more focus at the end Warnings: Language. Violence, including punching and breaking bones and attempted stabbing and falling from a height; none of it is particularly graphic. Also loss of consciousness. Word count: 5093

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

start - previous - here - next - masterpost

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Chapter 8

“Ruthless!” Virgil shouted, poised in midair outside Count Ruthless’s lab, shadows creeping down his back and flowing off the ends of his cape to billow around him. “Come out here.” Not feeling particularly inclined to give the other villain time to comply, he braced himself, closed his eyes, reached out, and grabbed with both hands. With a full-body yank that jarred him right down to his bones from the sheer amount of power he was handling, he absorbed all the electricity in the lair in one go. “I’m not asking,” he shouted, once he was certain he’d caught enough breath that his voice would be steady. “Come out here.”

There was a pause of perhaps twenty seconds before Count Ruthless, in his garishly bright purple-and-red vampire suit, stumbled out the door, clearly trying to look like he was not in a rush. “Good—good afternoon, Nightmare,” he greeted, smile frantic and wavering. “To what do I owe the—”

“You’re out of the Guild,” Virgil cut him off. “Your signal code has been deactivated, your accounts on all the systems will be deleted by the end of today, and I expect you off this property within the next hour. And out of my city.”

There was a beat of silence.

“I—why?” the Count asked, confusion and fear and outrage warring in his tone.

Virgil crossed his arms. “I’ve already made it clear I disapprove of civilian casualties. Children are completely off-limits. I would have expected that to be a no-brainer.”

There was another long moment of silence.

“Really? That’s it?” the Count asked, disbelief coloring his voice. “What kind of villainy are we running here? Come on—”

“I’m sorry, are you trying to justify your actions?” Virgil demanded, letting an undertone of Tempest Tongue into his voice. “There’s no we here. There’s me, firing you, who stabbed a child. End of story.” His lip curled with disgust. “You should leave before I do something worse.”

The Count stared up at him, face unreadable. “So that’s how it’s going to be?”

Virgil inclined his head.

“Well. Alright then,” the Count murmured, shaking his head, and Virgil tensed up, curling a tendril of wind around his hand, ready to strike. He hadn’t really expected the Count to accept his word without a struggle. Fights were the most traditional method of settling any sort of disputes within villain guilds, including when Virgil, as the head of the Guild, wanted to fire an underling. The fact that he’d even offered the Count the opportunity to leave without being attacked had been unconventional.

Sure enough, the Count lunged, soaring into the air towards Virgil; Virgil opened his fist, setting the gust of wind he’d been holding free. It blew directly into the Count’s face, sending him spiraling off course.

In the handful of seconds this bought Virgil, he glanced down at himself and took a quick inventory of his person, double-checking what he already knew. The Count’s main power was metal manipulation, so Virgil had deliberately left anything with a high metal content behind when he left his lair. This put him at a slight disadvantage compared to usual; he’d left several gadgets that he liked behind. But he was more than confident he could still handle the Count.

The Count had righted himself in the air by now; as he turned back towards Virgil, Virgil flew backwards into the open space that surrounded the lair. The farther up—and farther away from buildings, with all their metal components—he could get the Count, the more of an advantage he’d have.

But the Count evidently realized this too, because he stopped giving chase after only a second or two and darted back in the direction of his lair. Virgil swore under his breath and followed, hoping to cut him off before he could get his hands on anything big.

The Count whirled to meet him again perhaps twenty feet from the building. With a curl of his wrist, a window frame tugged free of its surroundings and hurtled towards Virgil, all sharp lines and jagged bits of the glass it had ripped itself from. Virgil braced himself, curling a fist, and just as the window frame got eye-wateringly close he punched it off course, sending it sailing back towards the Count. Admittedly it was not ideal to send it right back into the Count’s frame of control rather than removing it from the picture altogether, but Virgil was not currently impaled, as had clearly been the intent, so all in all he counted it as a win.

The Count snarled, twisting his hands; the metal frame, which came to a stop hovering in the air before him, followed his gestures. Each strand curled forward and lengthened out to a sharper point. It vaguely resembled a spider—or, more pertinently, an extremely large knife with eight blades, all of them now aimed at Virgil.

Well. Shit. That was not going to be fun to deal with. And he’d left his blaster behind—too much metal. Damn the Count and his extremely inconvenient power, honestly.

Virgil tugged shadows up off the ground to surround himself, willing them into full solidity. He shaped them into eight long curling tendrils, bigger by far than the spokes of the window frame, just to one-up the Count. The Count once again hurled the frame at him; with a thought, Virgil sent one of the shadows darting forward and plucked the frame right out of the air. He held it in place with three of the shadow tendrils and stared the Count down, letting the other five curl lazily in the air about him for the best threatening aura possible.

The Count hesitated, hovering just out of reach of the tendrils, yanking at the air and trying to free his improvised weapon free of the grip Virgil’s shadows had on it. As his efforts were unsuccessful, accompanied by Virgil looming silently at a distance, the man began to shift uncomfortably, squirming under Virgil’s stony glare.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” he complained at last. “What kind of fight doesn’t even have banter? Honestly, the disrespect—”

“The fact you think I owe you respect is hilarious,” Virgil said coldly. “Your outfit is tacky and your theme is stupid. You disgust me. How’s that for banter?” It wasn’t banter at all, nothing more than plain insults, and his tone made that more than clear.

“I never liked working for you anyway,” the Count commented under his breath, yanking once more at the window frame.

Virgil tugged it away, further and further back, seeing if he could remove it far enough from the Count that he couldn’t control it anymore—the strength of the tug began to noticeably lessen, which was a good sign. Virgil dragged up more shadows from the ground to lengthen the tendril and move the frame even father away. At about fifty feet, the resistance from the Count trying to regain control of the metal finally faded away.

“Great,” Virgil commented, slightly out of breath; he flung the frame, hearing it hit the far-off ground with a clang, and summoned a heavy gray cloud to hang low in the air above them. He had an idea. But he didn’t want the Count to pick up on it, so he dragged some of the thin new shadows the cloud cast up off the ground to add to his tendrils, hoping it would seem like that was the purpose he’d summoned the cloud for.

The Count, Virgil realized, had taken advantage of Virgil’s momentary distraction and was carefully creeping backwards in the air, back towards the building, with all its annoyingly large amounts of metal everywhere.

Virgil didn’t wait. He darted forward, streaking through the air, and slammed into the Count shoulder-first with his full body weight. There was a solid thud, and a grunt of pain from the Count, but no immediate sign of serious injury and the main retained his balance. Pity.

The Count whirled in midair, hands scrabbling at his belt as he continued backing away. He dodged Virgil’s next punch—luckily for him; Virgil hadn’t been holding back with it—and pulled out a small piece of metal, which elongated beneath his fingers into a blade with a gleaming sharp edge.

“God fucking dammit,” Virgil commented, conjuring up a pair of magic shields, one on each arm. With one, he blocked the first swipe of the Count’s new knife; the other he used as a bludgeon and brought down with all his strength on the Count’s shoulder.

Or that was the plan, anyway. The man was quick. He dodged, his shoulder remaining intact and thus retaining the use of his arm. For the moment.

Virgil blocked another swipe of the knife and hurled the second shield at him like a more deadly version of a frisbee. That connected, slicing across his side, though the hit wasn’t as direct as Virgil would like it to be. He summoned the shield back to him even as the Count cried out and clutched his side. Virgil examined the shield, feeling grimly satisfied to note the blood along the side of it.

The Count’s next swipe of his blade was weaker and poorly aimed, almost too easy to dodge. But he was recovering quickly—Virgil was pretty sure the man had superhealing, which made things more difficult. Damn it.

“Well, this is absolutely fascinating,” Logan’s voice commented.

Disoriented, Virgil whirled, his shields dissolving into nothing, and he only just avoided another strike from the Count’s knife. Logan, hovering in midair a good twenty yards away in full Dr. Logic costume, waved at him brightly.

This was not a good time. Virgil groaned, reached over, batted the knife aside, and grabbed both the Count’s forearms. He held the man in place at arm’s length, so that he could resolve the situation with Logan without distraction. “Stay out of this, Logic,” he said warningly. He had his hands a little fuller than he’d like to admit with the Count, and wasn’t sure he could handle adding another person into the fight.

“Oh, don’t mind me.” Logan shrugged, flying over to the lair and seating himself on the edge of its roof. “I have no objections to what’s going on. I am merely here to watch.” He lowered the black mask that covered his mouth and nose and sipped at the iced coffee in his hand.

“Really?” Virgil blinked.

“You are being very loud and very destructive. You have also completely upended the weather forecast for half the city. I could hardly let that go unaddressed,” Logan explained patiently. “But I cannot complain about you doing my job for me.”

“First of all, you know that’s not what this is,” Virgil said, half exasperated and half amused. “Also, showing up with coffee? Really? You might as well have just brought popcorn. It’s practically as subtle.”

“Ah, but I don’t care for popcorn,” Logan said. “The texture is unpleasant.” He nodded at Count Ruthless, still struggling to break free of the vice grip Virgil had on his arms. “Are you going to keep fighting him, or do I actually have to step in?”

“No, no, I’m going to,” Virgil assured him. “I just hate multitasking.”

“What the fuck?” the Count mumbled under his breath.

Virgil ignored this. “Are you all settled up there?” he asked Logan.

“Oh, yes. Carry on.” Logan waved Virgil off reassuringly and raised his coffee to his lips once again.

“You heard the doctor,” Virgil told the Count with a mocking seriousness, turning back to him. “Sounds like he expects a show.”

The Count was still staring back and forth between Virgil and Logan in bewilderment. Virgil supposed they hadn’t been behaving in a way particularly befitting their arch-nemesis status. But it was funny, and anyway nobody would believe the Count if he brought it up to anyone. Virgil and Logan had carefully crafted the reputation that their alter egos had in relation to each other, and Virgil was confident this reputation would more than hold up against any accusations the Count could level. Should he even try, he would come across as a bitter, disgraced former employee, desperately trying to come up with a wild conspiracy as revenge against Virgil. There was no danger here.

Count Ruthless, despite his clear confusion, did have the presence of mind to take advantage of Virgil’s barely-loosened grip on his arms. He wrenched free of Virgil’s grasp with a snarl.

Virgil took advantage of his newly free hands and socked the Count in the gut, sending him sailing backwards through the air, away from the building. He used a gust of wind to push the Count even further before he caught himself. The sooner Virgil could isolate him from access to metal, the better; he would be all but helpless against Virgil then.

The Count seemed to have realized this, too, because he struggled free of the wind and flew back in Virgil’s direction at once, soaring right past him and back towards the lair.

“Dammit,” Virgil mumbled, pausing to darken the thunderclouds in the sky above and then following the Count.

The man dragged several chunks of metal out of the building’s walls and let them hover in the air around him, turning to face Virgil with an attempt at a triumphant air. This was undermined by the way he was panting for breath and the panicked look in his eye.

Virgil sighed and readied his shadows once more, creating a whole cloud of half-solid darkness all around himself. The Count flung his hands forward, as if shoving, and the various pieces of debris went hurtling through the air towards Virgil. Virgil spent just a second focusing, ensuring that he caught all of it in the shadow cloud, then zoomed forward and slammed into the Count.

The two men grappled in midair for a moment, the Count trying desperately to pull another chunk of metal from his belt and Virgil keeping him busy with blows. He was holding back just slightly—his punches now were designed not to be deadly, but to cause as much pain as possible.

“Nightmare,” Logan called.

“I’m a little busy here,” Virgil grunted, but he grabbed the Count by the throat and held him at arm’s length once again, looking over at Logan. “What is it?”

Logan held up a small speaker. “Any music requests?”

Virgil very nearly burst out laughing. “Uh…” He thought for a moment, ignoring the Count’s vicious efforts to free himself. “You know my Spotify playlist that’s just Queen and My Chemical Romance?”

“Oh, god.” Logan pressed his forefinger and thumb to his forehead. “Yes.”

Virgil snickered. “Yeah, could you just put that on shuffle?”

“Fine. I’m judging you, though.” Logan bent his head over his phone, presumably searching for the playlist. “Carry on.”

“Alright, what the hell is going on?” the Count demanded, gesturing wildly between Virgil and Logan as the requested music began playing on Logan’s speaker.

Instead of deigning to answer this, Virgil punched him in the gut again, this time with a shadow, sending him flying backwards through the air. Virgil caught him by the ankle with the same shadow, dragged him back, and promptly backhanded him across the face. “Had enough yet?” he asked as the Count swore in pain.

The man shot him a dirty look, his hands moving in what was clearly an attempt to be subtle. Virgil whirled, just in time to grab a metal rod out of midair before it could impale him.

He maintained eye contact with the Count and bent it in half. “I’m doing that to your wrists next,” he said coolly. “Try me.”

The Count visibly swallowed. He yanked two more metal rods free of the lair’s walls and flung them at Virgil all in one motion; following the movements of his hands, the pieces bent themselves, wrapping around Virgil’s neck and tightening.

Virgil grabbed at them, digging his fingers under the edges of the metal. It took more effort, but with a yank and a snarl, there was a horrible screech of metal and the pressure against his windpipe went away. He dragged the chunks of metal fully away from his neck and discovered that he had physically ripped them apart, the edges jagged and nasty.

Well. That was something he’d never thought to try his superstrength out on. Good to know.

Virgil let the metal fall from his hands, more tendrils of shadow reaching up to catch it before it even left his grip and moving it away—he could feel the Count desperately trying to regain his grasp on it, but ignored this.

He flew forward, knocking into the Count head-on yet again and sending them both tumbling through the air. Virgil regained himself first, pounced, and punched the Count squarely in the gut, relishing in the thud of his fist against flesh and the gasping way the Count’s breath was all knocked out of his lungs in one go. Not waiting for the man to recover, Virgil delivered another blow, this one to his face. Then another. Another.

The Count sucked in breath, coughing and hacking in painful wheezes in between Virgil’s punches, trying his best to curl protectively around himself. Virgil was holding back somewhat—not enough to kill the man or knock him out. Not yet. But more than enough to hurt.

The Count twisted in sudden movement, and Virgil’s senses flared danger signals just in time for him to fling himself backwards, with just an instant to spare as a long, thin, deadly-sharp looking blade shot at where Virgil’s torso had been a second before.

Dammit. The man still had metal on his person.

Virgil lunged, reaching, feinting towards the blade itself. The Count twisted a hand, dragging it away, his movement large and careless and sloppy in his effort not to lose control of this piece too. This was exactly what Virgil had hoped for. He grabbed the man’s hand and twisted until he heard a nasty crunch and a scream of startled pain.

“I told you. Wrists,” Virgil said darkly, panting somewhat as he released the Count’s hand and the exertion of the past few moment set in.

The song Logan was playing on the rooftop above them switched, the sudden transition from Freddie Mercury’s fading vocals to loud guitar and drums making for a sudden, jarring change. Virgil started, but the Count outright jumped, then yelped as the movement jostled his broken wrist. He clutched it close to his chest.

Virgil wasn’t particularly amused, but he made a point of delivering a short, cold laugh anyway, just to rub it in. “Had enough yet?”

“Of what? Not dying?” the Count snarled, his shoulders heaving in labored breaths, his unbroken hand curled in a defensive half-fist at his shoulder.

“I mean, I haven’t decided on that yet,” Virgil said with a shrug. “You could surrender.”

“To you? After this? I’ll take my fucking chances, thanks.”

Virgil shrugged. “Suit yourself. You’ve got plenty more bones, I’ve got time.” He tilted his head, giving his best judgmental stare. “I should rough up your vampire costume some more,” he commented idly. “It’s pathetic.”

“It’s thematic!” the Count protested at once, loud and defensive. “It’s deep, it has meaning, it’s symbolic—”

“Oh? Of what?” Virgil challenged, amused. He suspected by the strength of the reaction that he was not the first to criticize the suit, though he’d never overheard any conversations about it. “How you’re helpless without someone stronger to leech off of?” He sneered at the Count. “I should never have let you stay in this city. Should have thrown you out of my Guild much sooner.”

“It—first of all, fuck off,” the Count snapped. “It goes with—shit!” He’d tried to gesture angrily with his wounded arm and instant regret bloomed on his face. “It’s themed after my power, if you must know.” He drew himself up proudly, as if this were a tremendous comeback.

Virgil blinked slowly. “Your… metal manipulation powers. Ah yes. Metal. The thing vampires are associated with. Metal. Not blood or bats or any of that. How could I have missed that,” he deadpanned.

“You fucking—it’s deadly to them—silver, I mean—it’s a fucking allegory, taking power over the thing that can kill them, it’s about invulnerability, it’s clever, you piece of shit—”

“Sorry,” Virgil interrupted with a growing delight, “you themed your entire persona after vampires because you thought silver killed them? Really? Really? That’s not a joke?”

“I—what are you—” The Count sputtered to a confused pause.

“Silver kills werewolves,” Virgil informed him with great satisfaction. “Vampires’ weaknesses are wooden stakes to the heart, garlic, crosses, and beheading. Not silver. Your entire theme is built on your own stupidity.” He snickered. “I can’t. This is too perfect.”

The Count’s eyes went wide with horror, and he seemed genuinely speechless for a moment. “I—you—” he began, more angry than ever before. “Oh, I’ll show you stupidity, you excuse for a villain,” he went on furiously. “You have no dedication to the core tenants of villainy, you think you can just do what you want with no respect for tradition or custom, just because you’re dripping with powers—”

Virgil spared a thought to tug the looming clouds above them a little darker and lower, not taking his eyes off the Count. “I do think that, actually,” he said, putting on his best bored voice. If he got this just right—“It’s worked out pretty well for me so far. On account of, you know, all the powers I’m ‘dripping’ with. That make it so I can do whatever I want without consequence. Like firing you, which I’m actually enjoying a great deal.”

The Count snarled at Virgil’s baiting. “We’ll see who’s firing who,” he began, and Virgil tensed, every nerve alive, fully at the ready. He hoped breaking one wrist should work out the way he guessed it would. He just needed the Count to—

The Count grabbed at his belt, pulling what looked like the last of his series of little metal tubes out of it.

Yes. Yes. Good. Perfect, in fact.

With only the one hand free to manipulate the metal, the Count clutched it fully in his hand instead of commanding it from a distance. In his grasp, this one was rapidly lengthening, turning into yet another long, deadly blade.

Just a little more—just enough that Virgil couldn’t miss if he tried—

The Count raised the blade above his head, and Virgil grinned, slow and deadly, feeling like a cat with his prey finally cornered.

He closed his eyes. The vestiges of the electricity he’d drained from the building were still thrumming at his fingertips, the power humming and ready, begging to be used. Electricity. Cloud. Metal, clutched in the Count’s bare hand.

Virgil raised his hands in the cloud-damp air and let the electricity he’d taken from the Count’s own lair go exactly where it wanted to.

A huge lightning bolt cracked down, one end sparking from the space between Virgil’s hands and one from the heavy cloud above, converging on the metal rod the Count was brandishing.

There was a scream, and an instant singed smell. Virgil let go of the tail end of the lightning bolt, lunged, and delivered a final punch to the Count’s jaw.

The man fell from the sky, landing on the ground in a crumpled heap.

Virgil waited a minute, breathing heavily and watching to make sure the Count didn’t get up. When he was satisfied that the fight was over, he shook himself and flew towards the Count’s now-former lair.

He touched down on the roof beside Logan, who was just turning off the music. “That was a little rougher than I was expecting,” he commented.

“You did wonderfully, dearest,” Logan said.

“Do you think he’s dead?” Virgil asked with a wrinkled brow. He generally didn’t strike people with lightning, and had no idea what it would do to a person.

Logan stared at him; Virgil didn’t need to see his eyes through the blue-tinted goggles to know how deadpan his expression must be. “Do I think, after being beaten up by a man with superstrength, literally being struck by lightning, and falling easily twenty feet, that he is dead?” he inquired, tone dry and mildly incredulous.

“I—shut up, okay—I don’t usually do this kind of thing!”

“I would say the chances of fatality are certainly above ninety percent,” Logan informed him. He glanced down. “Not one hundred, though. They almost never are.”

Virgil looked too. A handful of minions had emerged from the building and converged around the Count’s fallen form.

“They appear to be administering emergency medical procedures,” Logan commented after a brief pause. “So he is likely not fully dead at this particular moment in time. I will admit I am surprised.”

Virgil felt a twinge of disappointment, which was… something. He filed it away to process later. He should be glad. He had a no-kill policy, dammit. (But the Count wasn’t a civilian, and the Count had stabbed Roman, a child in his pajamas whose glitter didn’t really do much more than sting. All of which added up to what felt like a very good reason for Virgil to bend his no-kill policy, just this once. If he had to.)

“Hm,” Logan commented as the pair of them watched the Count’s still form get loaded onto a stretcher and into a vehicle, which left at a high speed. “If he is not dead by the time they reach medical facilities, his chances of survival… I would not say they are good, but they are certainly better.”

“He has superhealing,” Virgil said. “If I’m remembering right.”

“Ah. That explains the survival. And it certainly increases his chances. I would put them at twenty-five percent or thereabouts, in that case.”

“Damn,” Virgil said, not sure if it was just an observational remark or another expression of disappointment, but not really caring either way. He got up and began pacing about the roof. “I’ll give him a day,” he decided. “If he’s not dead, I’m dragging him out of the hospital myself and putting him on the next bus out of town, no matter what state he’s in.”

“That, I am happy to say,” Logan assured him, “is precisely none of my business.” He got up, following Virgil away from the edge of the roof. “I am delighted you have found a resolution you are satisfied with.”

“I mean.” Virgil shrugged. “It felt good to hit him. Haven’t had a real fight in ages. And I was mad.” He frowned. “Still am. He still stabbed the kid, fighting him doesn’t change that.”

“True. However, Roman will be fine,” Logan assured him. “You brought him to safety quickly, and you acquired expert medical assistance for him—”

“The very best I know of,” Virgil interjected, because he couldn’t let the opportunity to praise his boyfriend slide.

Logan smiled. “Hush,” he said, clearly not meaning it even a little bit. “And I will be clocking off work early today so I can come over to see the child this afternoon. I only need to head back to the lab and wrap up a couple of things, it will not take long at all. When I have done that, I will come to check on Roman’s progress and adjust his care plan as needed to ensure he heals fully and speedily.” He paused, ensuring he had Virgil’s full attention. “What I am saying is that you have done well, beloved.” He paused. “And so have I, of course, but that went without saying.”

Virgil chuckled fondly. “It certainly did.”

“Yes. And so Roman will soon recover from what was done to him.”

Virgil nodded, taking a deep breath and trying to take Logan’s words to heart. He did find himself somewhat calmer at this perspective. “Thanks, babe.”

“Of course, dearest.” Logan lifted his goggles and let them rest on his forehead. “Also…” He trailed off and waited expectantly.

Virgil raised his eyebrows. “Yes?”

“I surveyed the area while you were occupied with the fight. There are no surveillance devices in the surrounding area.” Logan cleared his throat. “If you were curious.”

Virgil laughed and opened his arms. “You know you can just ask for a kiss if you want one, babe.”

Logan, looking very pleased with himself, nestled into Virgil’s embrace, leaning in to accept the kiss Virgil offered. “I’m aware of that, yes,” he said, pulling only the barest amount away so that his lips still brushed against Virgil’s as he spoke.

Virgil snickered and kissed him again, soft and chaste, then again, a little less so.

Logan sighed against his lips, his hand coming up to rest on Virgil’s shoulder. “You know,” he began.

“Yes, babe?” Virgil asked, smiling in a manner that could, perhaps, be described as besotted.

“I would really be remiss if I let all the technology in this lair fall into the hands of my arch-nemesis.”

Virgil grinned, amused. That was right; he’d promised Logan first pick of the tech. “Oh?” he inquired, and kissed Logan’s cheek.

Logan suppressed a smile of his own. “Indeed.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” Virgil teased. He leaned back in suggestively.

“This,” Logan said, closing the remainder of the distance and kissing him again. His hand slid from Virgil’s shoulder to cradle the back of his bare neck.

He pressed something cold onto Virgil’s skin.

Virgil underwent a split second of instinctive, startled panic. Then his brain suddenly felt cottony and vague, and his knees refused to hold him up anymore. He was vaguely aware of Logan catching him and lowering him to the ground. Just beyond awareness danced the tail edge of a thought that he couldn’t quite grasp, one that reeked of annoyance and amusement, both emotions directed at Logan and also at the cold feeling now spreading down Virgil’s spine and through his body.

Logan pressed his lips to Virgil’s forehead and said something Virgil couldn’t quite understand, because the cottony feeling in his brain was getting thicker and thicker and words were becoming too difficult to comprehend. Logan got to his feet, pulled his mask and goggles back over his face, and strode away.

Virgil’s eyes slid closed, too heavy to do anything else. His senses slipped away, his thoughts quieted, and the world went dark and silent.

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#sanders sides #thomas sanders #thatsthat24 #analogical #virgil sanders #logan sanders #ts logan #ts virgil #if you're going my way i'll go with you #trans logan #trans virgil #ts fic #ts fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #peregrin writes

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