#stuff that i will most certainly be wary of and I will not treat that lightly
Text
I’d decided ever since I first got into Lupin that I was going the completionist route and consuming all the media from it that I could find, but there are some bits that I am dreading going into lol. Despite this I am determined to find something useful and or enjoyable about each Lupin thing I find, because there’s always something you can pick out from them and because to me that’s a fun way of gathering little bits of info and meta on the series and characters, and seeing how they interact or oppose each other. This isn’t to say I’ll ignore the shitty stuff that’s waiting there, but I’m also not going to be writing a post about every bit of awful shit and how I disagree with it for every post I talk about appreciating something, because I trust we all understand and agree that that is clearly not what anyone worthwhile likes or approves of about the series. I may even consider making a meta post talking about the worst recurring themes and content that has stuck around in the franchise over hundreds of different development teams due to negative influence from the various different and levels of cultures involved as well as time period, lack of gender diversity, and internalized bigotry; but also discuss how the series has worked towards visibility on certain issues like queer men in media and even more recently touching on the short hand Fujiko had been drawn for so many years by her getting an entire series for herself written by a woman, and how there is clearly a wide array of people that have touched the foundations of the franchise to make it what it is and how these positives and the negatives sometimes intersect on their way to the surface. It’s such a nuanced subject though and I really don’t want to make a post about that just on the fly. Not to mention I’m certainly not the authority on all the subjects that would need to be covered for such an analysis and I’ve certainly not “arrived” in any sort of way in terms of progressive understanding and analysis of themes and narratives in media, but maybe one day I can start a decent and good faith discussion about the different views on consuming media like Lupin the Third that is so chock full of content that should be left in the past and rightly criticized. Tangent aside, the point is I may talk about or reblog posts about or from some of the less popular installments of the Lupin franchise, and talk about some of the stuff I liked and disliked. Its my opinion that there’s something to be gleaned from each piece of Lupin media, and it all constitutes the giant tower of content that makes the series, even the foundation, the original manga. Despite all of its massive, massive problems, and like it or not, the manga is the reason the anime exists, and it’s history and influence on the series (and the history and influence on the manga itself) can’t just be thrown aside or ignored, as it still influences the series to this day! I think by the logic that is is the foundation of the franchise, there’s clearly something informative to rip from the pages. You just have to join the queue of people waiting to piss on Monkey Punch’s little clown grave after you read it.
#samurai sharkie speaks#I’ll tag the specific media i reblog as always so if you want to blacklist it you can#I hope this makes sense and it doesn’t come across with attitude or anything it’s more just a heads up#and I want to be clear here in saying that if you don’t want to touch the manga I am NOT judging you dude. holy shit not at all#there’s some vile content in there that I have a hard time just reading about#stuff that i will most certainly be wary of and I will not treat that lightly#I’m just. well I’m the type of person who when I get really into something I devour everything I can find down to the marrow#as an art history nerd it’s hard to not be fascinated w the manga and how it’s influenced the series#and how it’s even brought a resurgence of that old Japanese cartoony art style#also I need to be clear in saying that talking about the art style and appreciating its history and style is not approving of monkey punch.#nor is snorting at a stupid bathroom joke that was written by the localization team.#i need to make that clear bc when I’m engaging w the series it’s nice to find something to laugh at.#thinking dick jokes or absurdism or cartoony humor is funny doesn’t mean I like or agree w monkey punch and his disgusting foul scenes.#i say this bc I don’t want people taking me talking about things like the manga in bad faith#and start assuming just bc I chose to engage w things like the manga I condone it.#rest assured I’m not going into the manga and such w/o being aware of all the extremely uncomfortable content I’m in for#but I can’t exactly compile it all for a callout post or anything bc the man is dead. the man can’t do anything anymore.#at this point I can read the manga and see where the anime came from and that’s what I want to do with it#also. not looking forward to watching Harimo’s treasure#my friend found a dvd at a thrift store w/o knowing it had one of the more offensive movie villain caricatures I’ve seen#i know there’s some great gang interactions hidden in there though#so I’ll be looking forward to that#at the very least
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
A thought brought on a self aware post about bringing in Pokémon that the player has had for years.
Could you imagine bringing in Pokémon from the games Pokémon Colosseum or Pokémon Colosseum XD? Not counting the very few wild ones you can catch in XD pretty much a majority of the Pokémon you get from these games are Shadow Pokémon. Pokémon who were stolen from their trainers, had their hearts forcefully closed so they could be nothing but fighting machines, and were used by one of the worse evil Pokémon groups to hurt people and Pokémon alike.
Then the player comes along. They rescue them. They treat them kindly, battle with them, spend time with them, and once their hearts are open enough the player purified them which ends up finally freeing them. Maybe they know its a game, but they don't care. You freed them. You loved them, and you took them to your other games so that they could go on new adventures with you. They wear the National Ribbon they got for being purified with pride.
When they get transferred into Arceus they are the most loving and protective Pokémon that Hisui has ever seen. The love they have for you is almost astonishing. If the Hero is aware that love is also given to them since they are the player's 'kid'. Of course they would love and protect the people that the player cares about. You care deeply about Ingo and feel so bad for him that your Pokémon will cuddle the guy and try to show their care toward him too. Heck, since having their hearts closed seems to mean they forget every fond memory that they had as first they might love on Ingo simply because they empathize with how it feels to forget everything important.
Maybe the characters can see the ribbons they wear, and they wonder about them.
Assuming the player communicates with anyone in the game maybe Ingo or the Hero (or both) ask about it, and the player explains. They are a bit horrified at the idea of people closing Pokémon's hearts, but they find it so sweet that you cared enough to heal every Shadow Pokémon that you got. And that you kept them with you for so many years. No wonder the Pokémon love you so much.
If they tell others about it then anyone who might have been weary of the player might be a bit more open to them now. Anyone who shows such love and kindness must be nice, right? Maybe they can get to know them like Ingo and the Hero have.
Could see this having unintended consequences with regards to Volo's delusions about the player though. Upon hearing about the shadow stuff I think that might cement his belief that the player is the 'true' better god. Of course they are a better god then Arceus. They are kinder. They actually do something to improve the lives of others themselves unlike Arceus. All the more proof that you are the kinder better 'true' god to Volo.
Don't know I just like the thought of what sort of effect bringing in Pokémon like ex-shadow Pokémon might have for the player and the people in Hisui.
😭😭🥺💕
This is so sweet to imagine
Your beloved pokemon you saved YEARS ago still loving you and following orders, protective to the very end. Probably some of the most fierce pokemon in Hisui, if anyone you battle has anything to say about it.
It would certainly at least make you look good for all the people who are wary about you.
But like you mentioned, Volo would probably dive deeper into his delusion. Since he doesn’t know the full context, why wouldn’t he assume more about you being a true god?
113 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello :]]
I was wondering if you do have any basic tips for ao3 use? :o
I saw ur other post and thought I’d ask, I’m pretty new to using for posting fics so if you have any advice it be very appreciated!! :DD
Remembered this ask and rushed to finally answer it!
For Posting
There is no algorithm. I see people talk about an algorithm occasionally, there is none! If you post at certain times, you may possibly get more attention because more people are on at that time, but there is no pushing. Just tag everything appropriately and you'll find your audience.
Do not advertise things on there. I don't mean you can't mention your socials on the author's notes, I'm saying you can't do paid advertisements, talking about your patreon, gofundme, etc. If it mentions money, don't. There are legal reasons for this, it's to protect the archive.
Placeholders are not useful!! You're more likely to get banned or reported than anything else!
For the descriptions, if you figure it out please tell me ;-:
It's better to over tag than under tag, also I'd try to use the premade tags first! freeform (usually lowercase and it doesn't autofill) are harder to search by.
This is my wife's suggestion. If you want to build an audience of people who recognize you over different fics, really recommend having a consistent style. Not posting schedule, though that can certainly be helpful, but style. Something about what you do is consistent enough people recognize you.
You love someone's work?? You write something based on something they wrote (with permission), write something for a friend or even just write something with someone in mind? You can gift them the work! It's still yours of course, but their name is attached and they'll see on their profile.
I don't know if this is still the case, but there used to be a problem where fics that were in collections could be made private by the collector. I'd be very wary of collection requests.
For Reading
Ao3 is an archive, not a social media. The reason I’m saying this is because you’ll find material that might make you go “That should be illegal to write about it”. You may think to yourself “I should report that! It’s awful!” And while sometimes it is deplorable! , it is rarely going to get taken down. The reason I put so much emphasis on this is people try to treat it like wattpad or tumblr. You can’t. It is not a social media.
Just like you can exclude tags, you can include them! Really recommend adding them to get what you’re looking for :)
Dead Dove Do Not Eat is not always a bad thing. Most of the time, it’s a tag intensifier. My recommendation is to look through the tags a second time, ask yourself if you really think it’ll be something you’re interested in, then continue if you want.
I always sort by most recently posted but there are other options! I think the default is most notes
Check out an author if you really like their stuff! I've found some really great fics this way.
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ok I'm going to explode if I don't talk about the big batch of unfortunate ponies that are on their way in for an emergency cleaning.
I am so excited and happy and grateful that I get a chance to clean them up because I'd never get to see many of these ponies in person otherwise since they're too pricey for me to buy.
I'll put it behind a cut, though, so their owner can choose whether or not to view my preliminary assessments which are based on the sales photos.
So, these were an expensive eBay lot with a lot of rare ponies in it which was an excellent price for all of them together. When they arrived to their buyer, it was discovered that they absolutely reek of mildew/mold. That's extremely disappointing.
They got packed right back up and are already on their way here.
Normally, boxes of ponies coming from there say they'll take a week and a half or so then suddenly appear after a couple days. I don't think that's going to happen this time, being Giftmas.
I had linked to the sale a while back but I didn't look super close at the pictures because there was no way I was going to be bidding, until today. They certainly LOOK stinky.
Mildew stink is easier to remove than smoke, regardless of whether it's cigarette smoke or whatever my Wave Runner smells of (it smells like she was in a house fire). Mildew stops stinking for the most part once it's all dead, and it's all certainly going to be very dead when I'm done with these ponies.
I have an ozone generator which will help if the bad smell doesn't wash off sufficiently. They can also be treated like rustbutts and given an oxyclean soak inside and out though that's rough on the hair so not my first choice. I may also get that UVC lamp and add it to the SunBox which is good for killing off mold and mildew. Then it's a question of how efficiently I remove it all from the vinyl, or how deeply the scent has gotten into said vinyl.
I'm both feeling optimistic and wary of that optimism. I don't want to get my own hopes up. Gotta keep that shit realistic.
If everyone got wet enough to mold, I don't think Talk-a-Lot is going to be functional. Hopefully she doesn't have batteries corroding in there. If that stuff on her face comes off, though, she'll at least be good for display. She looks very bright and fresh, otherwise.
Look at that scrungy hair on Merry Treat. hohoho bitch I am so excited. She also has some yellow on her face that will hopefully wash off. If it doesn't, yellow does cooperate pretty well with hydrogen peroxide and the SunBox.
I can already see that Mommy has unstable vinyl. That's a shame. Mommy and Baby are Euro exclusive IIRC, and difficult to get, here.
I'm not sure those dark spots on Baby aren't stains. I hope not, but it kind of looks like marker eyeliner.
These little pearlized babies are downright disgusting... Poor things. The pearl paint is surprisingly not as difficult to clean as I'd feared when the first ones showed up, what was it last year? It can withstand a gentle melamine sponging just as well as the cutie mark and eye paint. I also have a matching pearl paint to help with patching in where needed, though I don't have any semi-gloss sealant so any patched areas would rub off again rather easily. Good enough for display. I am rather confident they will turn out just fine.
Look at that knotted up wad of tail tinsel. (❁´◡`❁) I can't WAIT to make that all smooth and pretty again. Hopefully the stuff on her will come off... I can't tell if she has all of her hair and there were no photos of her other side. It looks like it might be shorter, but that can be caused by being matted, too. Fingers crossed it's all there.
Even with a haircut, Rapunzel's resale value is preposterous, which is why I will never own one.
There's some yellow grime on Birthday Pony and Firefly. I'm wary. It will either wipe right off or is stained. No way to know until I start cleaning.
There are no photos of the other side of Li'l Pocket. I wonder if she has her piggy bank and coin, still.
There's a little Remco donkey in there! I was wanting to see one, and now I don't have to buy one to get to.
Swirly Whirly.... I can't tell if the grime is ON her or IN her. She does seem to have shadowing in thinner areas but that can be both caused by dark mildew inside the body and just the fact that it's thinner, there, and there's a bit of a shadow inside. I won't know until I crack her open. When there's dirt stuck in the rooting holes like that, in my experience, it's coming from inside the body. Which is not a problem.
Her horrible hair texture excites me.
I have seen a few Glow n Shows go opaque even more than Starglow there... No idea what causes it. Happyglow in this same batch seems fine.
Someday I want to have some Glow n Shows.
I expect this to be stains. When it's been little round blooms like that, it's generally stained. I hope I'm proven wrong. She has her key, which is EXCITE.
There have been times where I've picked up a pony that looked like they had blooms and I didn't think they'd come off, and they wiped off no problem.
I actually have this one. She's my only remaining childhood pony. My Secret Beauty's key is long gone, though, and her saddle can barely stay latched anymore. The spring for the latch is worn out. She also has an ink stain on her cheek.
.... I don't even know. The listing doesn't say what this dog is.
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
What amazes me most about Wednesday is how the show manages to be so good when so much of it is objectively just kind of crap. Not terrible crap, but kind of lack-lustre and easily dismissed and ignored. But somehow it manages to pull something great out of that.
The most obvious thing is that in tone and vibes, it largely ignores what the Addams family is, how they work and what they stand for. It's actually horror, not horror comedy, and it isn't really any contrast to what we consider normal life. Which is explained in-universe, sure, but I'm not actually convinced that it's the most interesting thing they could have done.
Its setting in a store brand Hogwarts is hardly original. They themed it around Edgar Allan Poe, for seemingly no reason other than that he's cool (I don't think he was a founder or alumni, and he certainly doesn't super relevant thematically). There's the vague idea of "what if Hogwarts had american high school cliques", which they don't do anything with. Harry Potter is nowadays much maligned and for very good reasons, but it did know how to make its fictional school seem interesting, deep and mysterious, and Wednesday is very lacking there. The biggest issue is that we don't spend enough time exploring the various students and their deals. We do it a bit, but it could have been more.
The wider world building creates the idea that the world has "norms" and "weirdos", which seems to be the officially accepted nomenclature, and treats them almost as if they were different sub-species. Some people are just born "weirdo", from "weirdo" families, and that's how it is. That's basic urban fantasy stuff - very basic, in fact. And again, it's not that interesting, and the show doesn't do anything with it. A key bit of classic Addams lore is that they consider themselves to be normal, and everyone else a bit weird, and thus question our ideas of what is and isn't normal. In Wednesday, these things are clearly delineated, which helps with the oppressive tone of the show, but makes it overall less deep.
And then there is the murder mystery, which is the big driver of the plot. Except it's barely a murder mystery at all. Everything we learn is because the main character has a vision that just tells them a key bit of background, or where the next important scene will be set, or, eventually, who the murderer is. Things barely ever flow, and there is very little deducting and reasoning; we just get told stuff. Again, it's not terrible, none of this is, but it could be better.
As for things that are actually terrible, I think enough has been written about the love triangle already. It never feels like Wednesday is ever interested in either the boys (her bond with Eugene is considerably stronger and more important). I think what goes underappreciated in discussions of the love triangle is that both boys are suspects in the murder mystery, and remain so until the final episode. As a result, there is always a certain distance. We don't ever actually get comfortable with any of them; we're always supposed to be wary and keep our distance, and indeed, Wednesday does. In the end, we totally get why the boys are in love with her (how could you not be? Just look at her dancing), but she barely shows any signs of attraction, and they certainly never become close friends. That's not the only problem, but it really doesn't help.
But despite this the show works anyway, because while the overall plot is a bit meh, the moment to moment stuff and in particular the actors are just stellar. Jenny Ortega: Amazing. Gwendoline Christie: Love her, she should be in everything. Thing is just perfect. And while the show drops the ball on the official romance, they really nail the relationship between Wednesday and Enid, the emotional cornerstone of the whole show. I just love watching these two together.
In the end, we have the kind of show where I logically agree with basically every single mean-spirited criticism I've ever seen about it, but at the same time I love it with my whole heart. Because it is flawed on a high level, but it nails everything in the details.
26 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! I wanna ask about Mismagius's story :D As much as I wanna ask about Literally Everything, I wanna at least leave some stuff for me to discover when I read the story in full lol
So just two questions for now:
1. How did Mismagius and Dusknoir realize they had romantic feelings for one another? I love seeing how characters fall in love with one another haha
2. It seems the Hero/Partner duo for this story is a Cyndaquil and a Riolu. What's their dynamic with each other kinda like? With Mismagius?
I'm rly curious about these! No pressure to answer tho
RUBS MY HANDS TOGETHER EVIL STYLE. OKAY SO.
1.) I love a slow-burn and believe it or not it's Dusknoir that first kind of realizes what's going on haha. Specifically for him it was after the Amp Plains incident, when I make things cool down between that and when the Hero/Partner go to the Northern Desert. Something I wanted to explore was how most Pokemon treat Dusknoir like a celebrity because of his explorer status, and so having Mismagius — who's initially wary of him and doesn't think he's even all that hot shit lol — talk to him more like an actual person instead of someone revered would make it easier for those two to talk. Since neither party has to really worry about holding up an image of themselves.
Mismagius is just not in tune with a lot of his feelings, so he figures out how he actually felt about Dusknoir after some stuff ah, happens. Lol. You know how sometimes you realize you liked something a lot more than you gave it credit for, but only found that out after you lost the thing? It's like that. It's this unawareness that I think would also contribute to the way in which these two talk to each other; if Mismagius knew what he felt he'd be a lot more hesitant to say anything for fear of messing things up. So in a weird way his ignorance is his blessing (to a point.)
2.) YES!!! Cyndaquil is the Hero and Riolu is her Partner. It's hard to really pinpoint their dynamic with each other, but it's certainly very very good friends. Riolu's developed a sense for what Cyndaquil is thinking (in part to her being, well, the Aura Pokemon lol) and she'll sometimes talk for her instead. Cyndaquil lets her and as for herself is really kind of reserved, always in her head hah. She doesn't remember her name so she accepts going by Cyndaquil, although more often than not when it's just her and Riolu, she'll be referred to as "Cindy" instead. She doesn't know if that was her actual name or not, but she likes how it sounds.
As for how they are with Mismagius, they don't really actually interact all that much aside from a few run-ins here and there! Mismagius is a graduate of the guild and thus doesn't live inside it anymore, so his only encounters are when he goes to complete job requests from the bulletins. He likes the two kids though and sees that they have a lot of potential, he just is worried at the same time because from what he's seen, they throw themselves into dangerous situations (out of the goodness of their hearts, but still 😭.)
Likewise Cyndaquil/Riolu look up to Mismagius, just naturally because he's an older exploration member and thus has more know-how on the world. He's just the nice guy that they sometimes run into in the mornings :)
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Blacktac's dating headcanons because I read too much fanfics recently
s/o=significant other
Luna's the type of person who wouldn't open up at first approach. It would take some time to get to know them and gain their trust, so dating her is certainly quite a challange :> Therefore don't expect her to get all lovey-dovey once you announced your relationship. Also, be wary of the clinginess. It's a big turn off and might even be an ick. Personal space is a bare minimum, learn to respect it. If you wanna get touchy, you have to earn it :D As the realtionship is making progress, the distant is narrowing down
Dating Luna would include:
Late night runs to get some food or do some other shit(night owl intensifies)
Her, drawing you a little too much
Sharing her meals with u(food is gold, be thankful)
Binge-watching new shows
Cuddling with warm blankets wrapped around the two of you
This:
Her, taking you into consideration in almost every reflection that comes to her mind
"I wonder if s/o would like these..."
"What would s/o think?"
"I have to get it in case s/o needs some too"
Her, sending you all of her new memes, even these halfway done
Watching horror movies and clinging onto eachother, then claiming that the jumpscare didn't affect them at all
Flirting with eachother on daily basis, making up pickup lines(mostly cheesy ones)
"Ayo do you know what my shirt is made of? Meme material"
"Don't call me daddy dear, call me MAMMAA instead" it never gets old
Her, giving you gold-worthy advice, that she probably doesn't use herself
Her, forgetting the most of it. "Did I really say that?" It's a shit taken straight out of Men in Black
Romantisizing every little/big event like Christmas or Halloween(definitely redecorating the whole house beacuse of it)
Couple matching outfits are a big yes YES
Aggressively planing your birthday party, it has to be perfect and satisfying. What do you mean by "I don't want one"?? "Sheesh, alright then I'm still gonna make sure it'll be the day and the night ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) that you will never forget"
Gifts being extra meaningful(love language)
Her, making a spotify playlist with tunes that reminds her of you
You, dragging her to bed and begging to get some sleep or staying up late together, not caring about the headache in the morning
Late night conversations about everthing and nothing
"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"
"Ofc babe, I would still spend time with you. Like taking you fishing for example"
"What."
"What?"
Trying out new recipies
Dancing in the kitchen like nobody gives a shit
Her, showing you new bought games and you watching her fail miserably at any of them(still having fun tho)
Both of you competing in smash and you beating the shit outta her
Her, getting mad at you for being good
Cleaning her glasses(she forgets to do so)
Getting a dog or making a compromise by getting a cat
Couple workouts are fairly welcome(chad couple intensifies)
Her, sharing details about her game project with you and asking for your opinion
Your house being the absolute nerd cave(lighsabers hanging above the tv, "world's best boss" cup from the office, bookshelfs filled with comics)
It doesn't have one basic theme, the rooms are just filled with stuff that both of you like
"Instead of a basic toilet paper stand, can we get a banana duck I've found on Aliexpress?"
"No."
"That wasn't very cash money of you :("
Big shopping dates at the gallery:D Love is fun sure, but you know what else brings happiness? Spending money.
Her, helping you pick out outfits that would suit you
Movie or amusement park dates. Luna definitely isn't the most romantic person, they would still treat you as a friend, just with big benefits beacuse your her boo:>
Showing love might not come easly for them, but it doesn't stop her from trying to. Drving you safely home after a date, making sure you got nice winter coat for when it gets cold, making your favourite dish for dinner. These aren't the best confessions of love, but if you manage to notice them, they will make you feel loved and special
7 notes
·
View notes
Note
Tandem
(Not including a bio because we practically share custody at this point ❤️🐰🐰🐰
hehee ok lemme use Pimpernel/Scotta :) I’ll do both normal good bb Mainverse tan and evil bad bb flowerverse tan!
Tandem (Mainverse)
Pimpernel would be cautious at first. As someone who (most of the time) follows the orders of her superior officer, she’d have known to stay away from powerful Decepticon warriors, like Overlord. So, crossing paths with his child would certainly make her guarded! If he’s dangerous, then Tandem is dangerous too, right? Well, not until it’s revealed that they’re a kind and gentle lover of poetry and nature whose distanced themself from their father. She’d be curious and surprised, and she’d want to know more. What’s with them? They love poetry? What do they write about? When was the last time they hurt anyone?
From there, I definitely see them becoming friends :) it might be slow initially due to Pimpernel’s wariness of them, but once she realizes they’re nice, she warms up! They’d spend time talking about flowers and nature no doubt, books they’ve both read, Pimpernel would share an odd amount about nebulos (that is indeed weird for a cybertronian to know extensively)… buddies!
This is all without them discovering that Pimpernel is a little organic in a giant suit… if that were to happen, Scotta would be worried about what they’d think of her, now that they know she’s been using an alias the whole time. But knowing Tandem, they wouldn’t like her any less <3
Tandem (Flowerverse)
Pimpernel has bad vibes about them from the very beginning. If we go with how they meet in this au, she would’ve hated how they harassed her friend and caused a disturbance! Her same caution regarding powerful decepticons would still be here, but Pimpernel would be confrontational despite it. Nobody messes with her friend!
If (or when) they begin to single her out, she’d try to remain tough and Autobot-like, and saying how they’ll be brought to justice, how they’ll be stopped, bla bla bla chivalrous autobotly stuff like that XD she’d treat them as a legitimate threat, to put it simply, which they are. And this isn’t regarding if (or when) they discover she’s little more than a tiny half-Nebulan playing pretend… to which shed be very afraid of what they’d do. Let’s hope there’s something about her that keeps her alive ;)
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
this was i was talking about hybe not putting effort in their solo albums. the most basic thing they could have give hobi is a physical album with a CD.
It certainly does seem contradictory as far as the environmental stuff goes, and it's not that I don't understand your wariness, or that of anyone else for that matter. I don't know, for me personally, it still just seems really early to feel like I have a good sense of what's going on, who is being treated how, and that sort of thing. Maybe it was Hobi's idea not to have a physical CD, or maybe this is part of what I was talking about before in terms of there needing to be less budget delegated to each member individually than there would be for the whole group. Maybe it's as simple as that big package/one disc per member thing being planned well before Hobi's album release was planned.
Honestly, though, if I had to guess, I would say that it's probably a budget thing. HYBE and kpop in general use photocards and fans' desire to collect all available versions of something -- or to get the version with their bias -- in order to sell extra copies of albums. When you've only got one artist, you don't have that same ability. Even if they were to make different versions in order to try to get the same effect, they wouldn't be able to sell nearly as many copies. Since not many people buy physical albums anymore except for those extra things, I imagine the return on investment for printing CDs for a solo artist would be much, much lower than it is for a group.
But again, since most people stream their music at this point, I don't see this as necessarily a bad thing for Hobi or anyone else, especially if they're then able to use that budget -- or what they get of it as individuals -- for things that could help them have a further reach, get more airtime, make high quality videos, etc.
The same strategies and plans don't necessarily work the same way for everyone, I guess is what I'm saying. There are going to be differences between how soloists are handled versus groups, or one group versus another, or BTS members versus members of other groups. So while I take your point, and like I said, I totally understand being wary and it makes sense to use a critical eye, for me, I just feel like I need to see more to really know how I'll feel about how HYBE is handling the members' solo ventures. And like I said before, it just makes sense to me that they would want the members to succeed: the more of them do well, the more profitable it will be for HYBE.
4 notes
·
View notes
Note
How easy is it to make them cry?
Are they trusting or do they refuse to trust?
How do their friends and family think of them?
Do they have a found family?
for rin my beloved <33
also a bonus q but not related to trauma: is rin part of any clubs, sports, teams etc in hartfeld? how is her relationship like with the others in the club?
if not, what piques rin's interest in extra-curricular activities? like what should a club 'be' so to speak, to have rin take an interest in it?
thank you mads!!
1.How easy is it to make them cry?
"Shut it,” she growled at herself, watching each falling drop reflect in the light. Her sleeves had made quick work with the initial burst of tears, patting and rubbing and wiping until they were damp with the stuff.
“You’re not a damn baby,” Rin scoffed into the mirror, hands wiping away another stream, “You’re being stupid. What’s tears ever done for you?”
Goodluck [salute] with that trooper! (Not really, please don’t make Rin cry—)
It is hard to make her cry. Rin is allergic to crying (not even on purpose anymore). It makes her feel awkward and tender and far too vulnerable than she’s comfortable with. (There’s also that during her formative years her mom + grandma would get angry with her for crying for too long, or too hard, or too much, or really any reason —but Rin refuses to acknowledge that that might play a role too)
So when she cries, it’s the buildup for far too much for far too long. And she hates it. She’ll insist she isn’t crying. Once the tears fall, she wipes them away even if she can’t stop them she won’t make a sound. Suffering in silence is her default.
2. Are they trusting or do they refuse to trust?
“Rin, what the hell?”
“What?” Rin shrugged. “Don’t get me wrong ‘n all. Love ya, but never asked for all this,” she gestured between them.
“I ain’t gonna be more than this,” she brushed a curly strand from her face, tucking it behind her ear, “and certainly not for you.”
A myriad of emotions splayed across her roommates face. First confusion, then embarrassment, before settling on resolve. “Fine then,” the boy turned, flopping into his bed, “since that’s what you want.”
Rin is careful with her trust. When she was younger, she went through her period of full trusting and then dove straight into no trusting but… she’s grown from then.
Now, she’s wary but willing. Rin doesn’t mind people around her, but it takes a long time before she starts to place a little faith in the people she finds herself around. If it makes more sense, she’ll treat everyone like a situational friend —tolerable under certain conditions (say a shared class) but with no real expectations for friendship or friendliness from that person.
She’s very much developed the attitude that she shouldn’t have expectations because you will disappoint her or disappear or both. So she’ll keep you around, sure, but y’all aren’t friends. Not even close. She don’t trust you and would prefer you didn’t trust her either.
3. How do their friends and family think about them?
Okay love this one!!
Her biological father - doesn’t think about her. I’m not certain whether or not he still remembers her. (as in i haven’t decided yet)
Her mom - wants to repair their relationship. She regrets leaving Rin all those years ago but Rin’s not really interested. She’s very much other vying for her mother’s approval/basing her emotions off of how her mother feels about her. [i actually have fic here about this exact thing.]
Her step-father - Yeah. No. Sometimes pops into his head just at random. But not much beyond that. Last time he saw her was when she was six.
There is one more family member but I kinda wanna leave it a surprise for now so…!
For what it’s worth: Rin resents most of them to varying degrees but refuses to acknowledge her resentment and pretends that: Actually She’s So Over It And Has Moved On Like Such A Long Time Ago That It’s Not Even Funny To Suggest That She Still Has Problems, Okay?!
4. Do they have a found family?
Yes. A mom and two aunts. Christine is her found mother. She can be straightforward when she wants but is incredibly coy otherwise. And being perceptive, she’s often the first to notice things though she doesn’t address them unless someone else brings it up first.
By the time Rin enters college, Christine’s been dead for a while. But Rin still remembers her fondly and cherishes her aunts extra to make up for it.
Her aunts are Raven and Amelia. Raven is quiet and usually keeps to herself. She doesn’t talk much when she’s not around her partners, so when she does it’s important. It took her the longest to come around to Rin. Never hated her, was just awkward and Rin was thorny, it wasn’t till she realized they had a shared history of abuse that the pair started to really bond.
Amelia is sarcastic and cold. She’ll tell it like it is and cuts through bullshit. Something that both pleased and annoyed Rin way back when. Rin ended up taking a lot of qualities from Amelia, she’s kinda Rin’s role model. 🤷♀️ (And Amelia is patient beyond understanding like frfr, she taught Rin for years —catching her up in all the core subjects and then some).
She’s a regular visitor to MCI-Framingham where they currently are.
[BONUS] is rin part of any clubs, sports, teams etc in hartfeld? how is her relationship like with the others in the club?
Yes!! She’s in Hartfeld on the Second Chance Scholarship (the one Zig and Chris set up!!) so she is required to be in one. She joined the Community Appreciation Club —basically volunteer service in the local/state community. Rin loves it. She gets to interact with the place she lives and actually feel like she’s helping and is a positive influence on the people around her.
The other people, though, is a different matter. There are a lot of sorority women which makes things tense. Rin and they have wildly different socioeconomic backgrounds that causes a lot of friction and takes Rin a while to get comfortable around them and vice-versa. There are some other people that Rin has a better time getting along with, but I haven’t thought about them enough to say anything definitive just yet.
this took so looong, im so sorry mads 😭 but i really did enjoy answering all the questions (and I am working on the other one you sent in!!)
thank you for stopping by!!
0 notes
Text
Inktober-ember Beast
Describe yours?
Traveler! Traveler! Um, just a moment, of your time!
I see you’ve taken a liking of that mountain, which is fine…
It certainly has its beauty, intrinsically, for all to see!
I must press that you address,
—
Oh well yes, you see; It just comes to me.
I don’t rhyme all the time. Only when truth is prime!
So may I tell you what you want to hear?..
Okay, brilliant, I’ll try to make it clear.
--
None have seen it, they only felt its wake.
When it prowls around while live and awake.
But it is known that a beast lies within,
Its needs known to those who care to listen.
And I, myself, am one of that sort;
And so I’m here, for you, to report,
All facets that hopefully thwart,
The likely chance you will distort.
… Yes distort, it’s what the beast can do, it’ll turn your brain black and blue.
… Well, it’s best before I regale you more that we put a face on the beast of this place.
Don’t you agree?.. Ah well you see! Technically, more that you don’t:
I mean to say, there is one way to convey: my method; else won’t.
Concepts and idioms are this beast’s choice of wear.
As it always lurks in the dark, here or there.
And such I shall describe what it must be like,
For when it’s unfortunate enough to strike
It slumbers like a dragon and has the same desires to boot!
A snidey little hoarder who’s quippy and rather astute.
Hm, yes, I said little, and mean it too,
like a cockroach or a snake;
the beast is never far away from you!
It lurks, watching like vulture for the soul
You feel its breath on your back; you swap role.
…Hmm yes, it is a form of possession,
One that elicits a confession;
Distorted and abrupt aggression,
With disregard for any discretion.
Ah, but I am yet to finish my metaphorical sketch
For with that all I say will have a place in your mind to etch
although this has reminded me
Of Its most unique quality:
I see it with scales or chameleon flesh,
That gleam and glean your seen figure afresh:
Forced introspection, a kind of horror,
Its game’s aim; opposite of restorer.
…The mandibles of a spider, the wings of a vulture, and scales of glass?
If that helps you remember what I have said, then sow visual seeds like grass
I do appreciate your imagination it’s of another class!..
Oh, you wish to know what route to take, you are confused there’s no beast bypass.
…Ah well no, although, the mountain’s treacherous climb may call the beast.
What I describe lies not in rock, It’s paired with us until deceased.
Crawls out of whatever crevice It’s in,
From some deep patch of your rotting foul skin.
Oh I do not mean to be rude,
Nor should you be so prude.
I’m sure by now we have rapport,
And we both know we’ve all done stuff before!
Degradation is one with life,
But when aligning it’s hard strife,
Like lens it burns, rubbing repeatedly,
It then necrosing so conceitedly.
… Conceitedly may seem an odd word choice,
But see yourself like a puppet with cues,
And those sores like lost strings that devoice,
And in fact now sing shared tune of beast muse.
… yes some do say it’s a horror story, it is not to amuse;
And some may say cautionary; I do grant you should be wary,
But it is real, it’s you, to avoid like the plague and accuse;
Is to, in some sense self-abuse, and set a light quite the fuse.
There is no trick, there is no game,
You treat it all the same,
With compassion and understanding,
You’d be surprised how far you get with those two,
I am here information-handing,
Because I think that’s what we are ought to do!
It may be the witty scholar in my blood,
Or the mathematician under the hood:
There’s no evil or good just misunderstood.
So learn and ingest, give bait to the beast;
Guide it to something in which you both feast.
Because then it’s strings are again your own,
And you saddle it like dragon or throne!
Take back those lost strings,
For you chorus now sings.
Beast brazenly behaves.
Selfish suffering shall soon stave.
…
I don’t know if you noticed, about being true;
I do rhyme every time when being frank to you;
I said within and listen a half rhyme at best,
I know it’s half true and I will tell you if pressed—
It want’s me to talk, regardless of if I should.
It curdles, boils, raving, and ranting in my blood.
It too thinks you should listen to your beast’s echoes.
It want’s brethren within to make you fall and kneel.
I know the sweetness of merry mirage meadows;
I pick and crush flowers while frolicking with keel.
It will give you taken strings and play you a tune,
It waxes slope, you look over edge and stumble.
I— you, don’t let our pied piper make us buffoon,
I must not let sense of self and morals crumble.
It smells the nicotine, pheromones, and more.
It tastes iron from other’s insides turned gore.
I must know me and all, if I don’t it befall
It knows you so better, it will tell if you crawl
I and it abuse both; added cogs between fix
It and you soon to mix, like souls in river Styx
We know our comforts from the easy aligned goals.
We like to numb, we like to blind; we share controls.
We’re put on track so we can’t go back, a knack!
We don’t know what we want, we are our own claque.
-----------------------------------------------------
Well that's a long one, somewhere around 1000... Oddly I think there's still more to do on this, but also that kind makes sense because of the subject... Anyway I'm tired and it is late, so here is where I say, what is now obligatory... Have a swell upcoming unconsciousness!
#inktober#poem#original poem#poetry#inktober2023#writing#story#is this a poem?#inktober beast#tw#tw existential crisis#tw paranoia#tw dark themes#tw dark content
1 note
·
View note
Text
Bruno Madrigal X Fem-Reader – Heart’s Refuge - Chapter 12
Apologies
A/N – And now I’ve been hired for two jobs that I like, both of which are part time, thus making one full time job. I still have way more time than I did in my old crappy job though, so I will try my best to keep this updated.
Warnings – None.
Rating – T
Taglist: @reverse-iak @mythicalpansexual @skylermoyer @kiaoizz @meganrosanna @insanitybyanothername @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @aaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh @abbygraceasd @smikys-stuff @coffee-cupps @cigarettesaftermidnxght @morishitoshi @waifu4lifeu @lukaerith-morningstar @cactiwallflower
Male Version Here
Today marks (Y/N)’s twelfth week here. Every day she seems to be doing a little bit better. The townsfolk seem less nervous of her, and she’s certainly less nervous about them. Some of the kids around here are starting to approach her. When they do, she pulls faces at them to scare them off, but it’s all in good fun.
I hope that the villagers will see this and start approaching her soon. Then again, maybe I’m the reason they don’t approach? I don’t know yet, but nobody has asked me for a vision since I came home, so it’s quite possible that everyone is still wary of me.
Mirabel has been doing her best to allay everyone’s fears about (Y/N). She regularly approaches us so people can see her conversing with (Y/N). Unfortunately, Camilo has been doing his worst and regularly shapeshifts into (Y/N), pretending that she’s escaped my custody. (Y/N) saw him do that for the first time today. I worried that she might get mad about it, but she faced Camilo proudly and said it’s the best he’s ever looked. Whenever my family approach, Louisa is nearby, just in case. I’m glad that (Y/N) gets along with them; they should know that the world outside isn’t all bad.
Sorry Mama, but it’s true. If (Y/N) keeps accepting our ways and culture, even you will have to admit that she is of no threat to us. Perhaps it’s time you let her out of the nursery so she could roam the house?
Even on a trial basis, this could prove beneficial. There’s no way we’ll know until you try.
- Bruno
You traced his name lightly with your finger, having come to the most recent entry in the diary since Bruno evidently hadn’t written about your argument yet. All of the other entries were more or less like this one, not quite a diary entry, but not quite a letter either; they were hybrids of the two.
At the side of the page was a picture of you facing Camilo, his smug expression captured perfectly, drawn delicately in ink. Glancing at the clock, you saw that it was five in the morning, not nearly time for Alma to come and collect you.
“Casita,” You whispered to the house, feeling that the peace and quiet of the early morning ought to be preserved.
The floorboards juddered lightly in response to show that Casita was listening.
“I know that you have your orders and everything, but… I really want to see Bruno.”
Immediately, the house creaked despondently.
“I know! You’re not supposed to let me out but this is important. You heard me before, I was horrible to him. I need to tell him how sorry I am. Please.”
Casita didn’t respond and you sighed, sitting back down on your bed resignedly.
“Yeah… I thought so. It’s okay Casita, I know you’re just following orders.”
Just as you were about to give up, the door opened to Mirabel. You stood up quickly, grinning from ear to ear. Then you remembered how you had treated the rest of the Madrigals, and you realised that you owed Mirabel an apology as well for freezing her out of your life.
“Hey,” Mirabel greeted you warmly as if nothing bad had ever happened between her and the strange lady trapped in her old room. “So, Casita really wanted me over here. Are you okay?”
“Actually Mirabel, I need your help,” You admitted. “But first, I have to tell you that I’m sorry. I wasn’t very nice to you and-”
Mirabel closed the distance between the two of you, surprising you with a hug; just like her mother, she was a hugger. You stood perfectly still, finally relenting and wrapping your arms around her.
“It’s okay,” Mirabel told you. “You’ve got a lot on your plate.”
“Thank you,” You murmured, hoping that all the Madrigals would be so easy to forgive you.
Finally, Mirabel released you, putting her hands assertively on her hips, “So, what do you need?”
You thought about Bruno alone in his tower. Although you desperately wanted to get to him, he wasn’t the only one you needed to apologise to.
“I need to see your family… All of them.”
Mirabel grimaced, making a face at you.
“Um, is that a problem?” You asked uncertainly, hoping that she wouldn’t get into trouble if she decided to help you.
“No, uh- It’s just… I can get the family together, but if we’re going to do this- You… You should really think about showering first.”
You flushed red. Granted, Mirabel was right. You hadn’t bathed since your depression, but it was still embarrassing to be told so. You swallowed the little pride you had, nodding slowly, “All right, new plan. Break me into the bathroom, and then afterwards we do the other thing.”
Mirabel nodded supportively, “Okay, let’s get moving.”
In their talkative groups, the Madrigals left the house in favour of the courtyard for breakfast, the only three missing were Mirabel, who was with you hiding behind a pillar in the kitchen, Alma who was presumably on her way down, and Bruno.
Though Mirabel had tried to get her uncle to come down to breakfast, there was no guarantee that he would be there; when Mirabel had told you as much, you felt even worse for hurting Bruno the way that you had.
Finally, Alma came down, heading to the buffet-like spread to prepare a plate for you. Mirabel looked at you, and you gave her a resolute nod, hoping that everything would go according to plan and that this wouldn’t come back to bite you in the ass.
Before Alma could continue preparing your breakfast, Mirabel leapt out into the courtyard, demanding her family’s attention. Although she was nervous, she felt the obligation to help you and immediately jumped into her ways of people-pleasing to try and soften up her family.
“Can I have everyone’s attention please?” She said energetically as if she was about to start some kind of grand show.
“Mirabel, what’s going on?” Alma asked, perplexed by her granddaughter’s actions.
“Abuela, if you don’t mind taking a seat, this will only take a minute.”
Alma’s eyebrows raised, but the befuddled woman took a seat at the head of the table, per Mirabel’s request.
“Right, so, I’ve been thinking and it’s really time that we face the elephant in the room, right?” Mirabel began, as all eyes fell on her. “Which brings us to (Y/N). I know that she still makes some of you nervous, but, well, how can any of us really be happy if we’re keeping a person locked up in the nursery? Especially, since she has some things to say.”
Hearing the cue for you to come out of hiding, you took a deep breath, stepping into the open doorway to the courtyard.
“Mirabel!” Alma said sharply, standing up to fully display her indignation.
You quickly gauged the reactions of each family member. Most of them were tense, Julieta and Agustín were clearly more occupied with their daughter’s safety than anything else, as they kept a close eye on Mirabel. Pepa was clutching her hair, murmuring a mantra about clear skies as if it might ward away the ominous storm cloud above her head. Louisa was gripping the table so hard that it was splintering. The rest of the family seemed to be watching Alma for her reaction.
Mirabel held up her hands defensively, “Look, I know that you wanted to keep (Y/N) in the nursery, but this is wrong, Abuela. Please, just listen to her.”
When it seemed that you had everyone’s attention, you began to speak, painfully aware that Bruno wasn’t there to hear your apology.
“Hello,” You began quietly, losing your nerve under the weight of so many eyes on you. You cleared your throat and tried again. “By now, all of you have met me, even if only briefly. Um- I- When I came here, I didn’t know what to think. I wanted to hate you all for trapping me here, and I was scared, of what you might do to me or- or how long you would keep me here.”
“To be honest, I’m still scared, but not of you. You’ve all been very kind to me, and I realise that-”
Your words caught in your throat as Bruno shyly squeezed past you, joining his family for the speech. Although he still looked somewhat out of sorts, he nodded to you encouragingly in a motion for you to continue.
You started fidgeting with your hands uncomfortably, “I uh realise now that you’re all good people, trying to protect something more than your gifts. This town relies on you to keep it safe, and while I can say that I would never do anything to jeopardise that, I cannot vouch for the rest of the world.”
“You might still want to keep me here, or maybe you’ll let me go someday,” For a moment, you faltered, thinking of Bruno’s vision.
“Either way, I hope you’ll consider letting me out of the nursery. I don’t want to be your hostage, but I wouldn’t mind being your friend… Of course, to be a friend to any of you, I have to apologise first. This past week, well, I haven’t been very nice,” You looked to Bruno, trying to convey exactly how contrite you were, “I’m sorry.”
Your speech over, you waited for someone to speak. Apparently, such an action fell to Alma as everyone watched her, awaiting her verdict. Alma brushed her dress, then clasped her hands together, like a saint carved in stone. She faced you sternly and you held your breath.
“Your presence here-” She began formally, but before she could continue, Bruno rushed to your side.
“Wait!” He cried out frantically. “I cannot stand by while you persecute (Y/N)! She’s a good person, and if you think she isn’t then-”
“Brunito,” Alma said disapprovingly, shutting down his tirade without even having to raise her voice. “I was going to say that your presence here has caused a lot of trouble for me, mainly because my family keeps regaling me with tales of how you are not the kind of person we expected from the outside world.”
Bruno seemed to deflate next to you, having clearly anticipated an attack on your behalf.
“With that said, I still cannot let you leave Encanto,” Alma continued dutifully.
You didn’t comment, holding your tongue until Alma had finished.
“What I can do is offer you a small amount of freedom. You may come and go from the Madrigal household as you please, though I must tell you, there are no other households for you to dwell in, but I would understand if you would prefer to camp outside, considering how long you have been trapped with us. I will still insist however that you eat morning and evening meals with us so that I may keep an eye on you, though now you will be permitted to eat with us in the dining room.”
Once Alma had made her statement, she awaited your reply, though it was less an offer and more of an order. You couldn’t help smiling at the prospect of those small freedoms. You almost teared up, though you forced yourself not to cry, wishing not to embarrass yourself with any grand displays of emotion.
“Thank you,” You said earnestly, certain that no other words could quite convey how grateful you were. For the first time since coming to Encanto, you weren’t being treated like a prisoner, but as a guest, and it was all thanks to the Madrigals, especially Bruno.
After the impromptu meeting with the Madrigals was over, you glanced at Bruno, nodding over to the house, silently asking if you could talk to him.
Bruno stared at you, trying to read you as if you were speaking in code; he had never been much good at reading people and you were confusing him all the more now.
You tried again, then sighed, resorting to speaking aloud, “Can we talk, in private?”
“Uh yeah, yes, of course,” Bruno stammered, following you into the house.
You led him pretty far inside before turning back to him and wrapping your arms around him. Bruno froze, staring down at you, his heart pounding in his chest.
“Thank you,” You praised him, unable to adequately repay just how much he had done for you with a few simple words.
Slowly, as if he was afraid your mood might change if he moved too quickly, Bruno extricated his arms from your vice-like grip, hugging you back and just breathing you in for a moment. You smelled like the lavender soap Isabella kept in the bathroom, and also like something uniquely you; to Bruno, it was the scent of dreams and happiness, and he lingered in the scent until the hug was over, which was far too soon for his liking.
Although the hug was over, you still patted Bruno’s arm gratefully, staying close to him, “Julieta told me about everything you did for me. I don’t know how to repay you… I’m sorry about how I acted before. I had no idea that-”
“You’re welcome!” Bruno rushed, eager to reciprocate with his own feelings. “And you don’t have to thank me. I was only trying to do the right thing.”
You smiled at Bruno, “I will never stop being thankful for what you did for me.”
Heat crept up to Bruno’s cheeks and he was certain that his ears were flushed red too. His stomach fluttered and he felt like he was going to fall if his legs didn’t stop quivering beneath his ruana. Was he sick? He had never felt like this before. Desperate to find a way out of the scenario, Bruno cast his mind around for anything he could think of that would make him feel safe.
“Do you want to meet my rats?” He blurted out hurriedly.
A small laugh escaped your lips.
“Sure,” You nodded. “I like rats.”
Bruno stood anxiously behind you as you explored his new room. There wasn’t much to see since it was decorated so sparsely, but you still made a few comments about how nice it was. Bruno was glad for that, especially since his room wasn’t exactly as nice as it could have been; since he had spent the last week in bed crying, his bed hadn’t been made and the clothes that he’d changed from that morning were lazily strewn across the covers.
You ignored the mess, making your way over to the rats’ play area, noting that a large portion of it looked like a stage. Several of the rats were sleeping in a pile, but a few of them scampered around excitedly, fighting over a bottle cork they had found.
“So, a stage?” You asked, turning your head to look at Bruno.
“Yeah… I- The rats are great actors. What are you in the mood for?” He asked, getting out some drawings with holes cut out and placing them around his rats. “War-time drama? Reality TV? Tele-novella?”
You laughed at the rats, one of whom was now depicted as a woman with a gun, threatening to shoot the two other rats who wore identical clothing.
“Let me guess,” You hummed. “She married one of them, but now the other has returned and it turned out she really married his evil twin?”
Bruno chuckled, coming out of his shell a little, growing a little more confident with each passing second that you didn’t shun him. “Close, it’s actually their niece and she has to decide which of them killed her fiancé?”
“Which one was it?” You asked, playing along with Bruno’s game.
“It was actually her own mother, but to cover up her crime, Estelle told her daughter that she’d seen one of her brothers leave the scene of the crime.”
“Le gasp, intrigue at its finest.”
“Yeah, that one’s my favourite, but Hernando likes the sports better.” Bruno rushed across the room, grabbing a bucket and placing it on his head to give you another impression, “I’m Jorje. I like the sports.”
You grinned, walking over to Bruno and tilting the bucket upwards so you could see his face, “Jorje’s nice but I like Bruno better.”
The light-headed, jittery feeling swept over Bruno again, and he tripped backwards, scrambling back up again with a rat in his hands.
“Here,” He squeaked, shoving the rat towards you.
You grabbed the rat, completely unperturbed by Bruno’s behaviour. Although you knew little about his past, his diary had passages that mentioned he had spent some time in isolation; you guessed that his strange behaviour stemmed from that, though you had no idea exactly how long he’d been away from people.
“Hello,” You greeted the rat happily, holding it in one hand while petting it with the other.
Bruno took a moment to catch his breath, watching you closely while you spoke to his pet. The wheels were turning in his head as he stared at you. That feeling… It only came over him when you were near, and over that week that you were gone from his life, he had despaired the loss, lamenting over the way things could have been. Once again, Bruno’s heart was beating rapidly, his breath growing short and heat rising to his cheeks.
It was you.
He wasn’t sick at all, or rather, this wasn’t a sickness that Julieta’s cooking could cure.
Bruno had feelings for you, and now, you and he were alone in his room, and all Bruno could think about was how much he wanted to kiss you.
Like my work? Buy me a Ko-Fi.
#encanto#bruno madrigal#bruno madrigal x reader#alma madrigal#mirabel madrigal#fanfiction#fanfic#reader#reader insert#disney#hearts refuge#heart's refuge#chapter 12#part 12#apologies
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
End of Summer
Fandom: Trials of Apollo
Rating: Teen
Genre: Family
Characters: Apollo, Harley, Apollo Cabin
How could I turn down an invitation to the end of summer fireworks, especially when so many campers had signed it?
Day twelve of TOApril organised by @ferodactyl, “Colours in the Dark”. Been busy irl today so this is late and also I’m half asleep, but hopefully it’s still enjoyable!
There’s now a discord server for all my fics, including this one! If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi!
I must confess, I am not overly familiar with Camp Half-Blood after sundown. That’s not to say I have never experienced this – even before my unfortunate time as Lester I had occasionally stopped by after-hours – but it is no doubt unsurprising to hear that the night time is not my usual visiting hours. That’s just a little side effect of being the god of the sun, as I’m sure you could work out. Night is my sister’s time of day, so to speak; I usually spend it staying out of the way and taking a nice, relaxing break from all my commitments before her chariot rolls back into her stables and it’s time for me to take the sun out for its daily journey again.
However, I received an invitation – yes, an invitation, not a request or prayer or beseeching; I was as surprised as you when Hermes dropped it off – to witness the customary end of summer fireworks. Apparently, the demigods had elected to consider me an honorary camper for the year despite my return to godly status and therefore insisted, if one reads between the lines of the short yet endearing letter my half-brother handed over with entirely too much glee for me to feel particularly comfortable, that I attend.
The invitation was primarily signed by Harley, which I presumed to mean that he was the driving force behind this year’s planned display, an assumption I must say filled me with the smallest amount of dread. Young Harley’s enthusiasm is unparalleled, but it does have the unfortunate tendency towards minor things such as serious injury and potential deaths. He’s rather like his father in that regard (what, you thought Hephaestus just sulked away in his forges all day? Trust me, most of his inventions are to be treated with all the appropriate wariness you might assign to a live bomb you just found by hitting it with a shovel).
I had no doubt that this year’s fireworks would be a spectacle like no other.
Other names were crammed into the paper, too – I am not ashamed to admit I scoured it for my children’s names and may have done an excited little dance when I spotted Will in what’s already shaping up to be perfect doctor’s handwriting when he grows up, accompanied by Kayla (the l decorated to look like a fletched arrow), Austin, and even the rest of my children despite some of them barely meeting me as a mortal and others not arriving at camp for the summer until after my re-ascension.
I don’t know how many of them actually expected me to turn up – it would not surprise me if the general consensus was that it’s past my bedtime and that I’m only active when the sun is up; that misunderstanding has been made several times since Helios faded – but even though Harley has no concept of safety, how could I have possibly turned it down?
(And if something did go wrong, well, having the god of healing on hand would hardly be a detriment now, would it?)
The temptation was certainly there to make an impressive, flashy entrance. A year earlier I would have done exactly that (if I had decided to turn up at all; I like to think that I would have done if asked, but past-Apollo made some pretty terrible decisions in general and I’m ashamed to say I’m not certain he would have decided to appear), but with Herculean effort I restrained myself. For one thing, I was not quite certain my father would have approved of my after-hours choice of activity (he almost certainly would not), and for another, I have learned the value of anonymity.
I had no doubt that I would, at some point during the evening, become the focus of attention, but my first order of business was to subtly reunite with my offspring without drawing the eye of all the other campers.
Keeping with the spirit of the invitation, I chose to dress as a camper with the neon orange tee and a pair of comfortable yet fashionable jeans (and tried not to think about the last time I took on such an appearance, which had resulted in my third and most difficult stint as a mortal). I did not, however, take on Lester’s face – for one thing, not all of my children would recognise that form, and for another, I am not blind to the look in Will’s eyes during my last few appearances as Lester. Instead, I snapped my hair back into a high ponytail (no, it was not inspired by Artemis’ preferred hair style; besides it looks far better on me anyway), checked my appearance in the mirror to make sure it was perfect – golden hair, Lester-blue eyes, Lester-age body – and then dissolved into light.
I reformed on Half-Blood Hill. Peleus ignored me, the dragon clearly intelligent enough to know that I was not a threat to its charge, and I quickly passed into the camp.
Everywhere looks different in the dark. Deeper into camp, the glow of the bonfire provided a beacon for me to aim for, which made my journey far easier. I can, of course, see perfectly well in the dark, but having a destination set out for me in blazing flames curbed the necessity to hunt around camp for the gaggle of demigods I had been invited to join. The sound of music, so perfect it could only come from my kids, was additional allure and proof rolled all into one, and in no time at all I was slipping into the back of the crowd unnoticed.
Kayla was leading the singing, most of her siblings surrounding her with a variety of instruments. The only two I noticed not in the ensemble somewhere were Will and Jerry, and I scoured the seated demigods until I located my two sons lurking near the back, unsurprisingly accompanied by one Nico di Angelo (his name had also, to my pleasant surprise, been crammed onto the invitation next to Will’s), who seemed to be playing with the fingers of Will’s left hand as he sang along quietly.
Will was the only demigod I could see who was not singing – even Ares’ children were enchanted enough by mine to be making a valiant effort, and young Cecil Markowitz was doing an admirable job at attempting to stay in time even if it was to little avail – but he was clearly absorbed in the music. I do wish Will would let himself sing more often; it’s always a beautiful sound during his healing hymns and I’m confident that while it admittedly isn’t the primary domain of mine that he inherited, his voice has the potential to be just as charming in recreational songs.
However, it is not up to me to persuade him to sing if he doesn’t want to, so I let that slide and in solidarity kept my own mouth shut as I slipped onto the bench between my sons (I might also have been wary of revealing my presence to the entire camp so soon by making half of them cry as my voice magnifies their emotions, but my primary reason was certainly to keep Will company). Their attention was instantly grabbed, and I found myself the sole target of three pairs of eyes.
“D-”
I shushed Will before he could announce my presence to the entire camp. He appeared confused at my desire not to be noticed, but instantly accepted it. Will’s a good kid like that, and I gave him an extra-tight squeeze in his greeting hug to show him I appreciated it.
After I also gave Jerry his hug, we sat quietly on the stone benches of the amphitheatre, listening to everyone around us singing along. It’s been a long time since I was the audience rather than the performer, and I found myself enjoying it immensely.
Alas, all good performances must come to an end sooner or later, and as Artemis guided her chariot higher into the sky, the moon climbing towards the apex of tonight’s arc, the last chords of Yan’s pipa faded away to nothing for the final time that evening. Harley, who was young enough that I was fairly sure he should have been in bed by now, jumped to his feet eagerly, and then we were all being chivvied down to the beach.
I took that time to make my presence known to my children, and I’m certain that several other campers began to notice me at that point. Admittedly, it’s difficult to stay under the radar when you have so many children lining up in demand of some physical affection (mostly but not exclusively hugs) and none of you stop talking long enough to pay attention to your surroundings. No-one challenged me, however, until we all filed onto the beach, claiming blankets to sit on that had no doubt been dragged out earlier, when it was still light.
Then Harley noticed me, and any ideas of subtlety swiftly disintegrated into nothing.
“Apollo!” he shrieked in clear delight, somewhat surprising me as I hadn’t been sure the young son of Hephaestus would recognise me in my current form, but I suppose either Nyssa told him or he was making an educated guess based on my interactions with my children.
Having been identified, with all eyes now seeking me out, I deemed that the time for staying under the radar was passed.
“Harley, my young friend!” I greeted in kind. “I thank you for your invitation to attend tonight.” I did not mention that it may have brought me to tears, mostly because I did not want to delay the promised show (Harley and the other young campers were surely already up past their curfew, and my own children tend to struggle to stay awake too long after the sun set, at least when they are somewhere safe and their fight or flight instincts aren’t on high alert). “I have no doubt the display is going to be a fantastical spectacle indeed!”
The child beamed and I mentally resigned myself to the probability of injuries needing treatment before the night was over – injuries I would be treating myself, because Will needs his sleep just as much as the rest of the campers. At some point, someone will need to sit Harley down and talk him through appropriate risks, but I’m well aware that no-one wants to do that (myself included) and that the general hope seems to be that he’ll mature of his own accord as he grows. It’s a slimmer hope than I suspect anyone wants to accept, but I won’t deny that the chance is there (I really, really, do not want to have to be the one to have that conversation with him).
Many other campers turned to gawk at me, undoubtably surprised to discover that I had decided to dress like one of them, but thankfully Harley’s ADHD had him hyperfixating on one particular thing, and nothing else was going to get in his way.
Explosions.
In this particular case, that translated to the crates of fireworks lined along the beach, a safe distance away from spectators because clearly someone recognised the importance of not blowing up their fellow campers (my drachma would be on Nyssa, she’s always seemed smart and level-headed). Or more specifically, making those fireworks go boom.
Surely, there should have been some sort of organisation involved. A count-down, perhaps, with every camper shouting out the numbers with vigour. If this display was of my creation, that would be exactly what happened.
It did not happen. Harley gave no warning at all, and the first explosion of noise and colour snapped many eyes away from me.
I absolutely did not jump.
Despite the unorthodox beginning of the show, the display itself was every bit as incredible as I had expected. Entire scenes shimmered into existence – Lester starred in a few, I couldn’t help but notice – playing out dynamically for a few heartbeats before dissolving into showers of every colour of light known to mortals.
At some point I turned my head to ask Will about one scene I didn’t recognise – I assumed it must have been during those six months I was away from camp – only to be reminded what the end of summer fireworks doubled as for the older campers. I could have been obnoxious and interrupted – Olympus knows many of my brethren would have done, and would’ve no doubt expected me to do the same – but as Nico has proven time and time again that he makes Will happy and I am fully supportive of their relationship, I was content to let them continue their tender exchange of kisses (it was hardly making out, unlike a certain son of Ares and daughter of Demeter I could also see in my periphery, but certainly private even if there was no real privacy on the beach beyond what campers afforded each other).
I turned my head the other way and posed the question to Austin instead.
I wish I could say that my Harley-related fears were unfounded and that the rest of the night passed without incident, where at the end of the display all the campers slowly dispersed back to their cabins to sleep in well past dawn (and yes, my children included) and then life resumed on schedule for the demigods again as summer campers were collected by mortal guardians and the year-rounders settled into their winter routine. I really, truly, wish I could say that.
Alas, Harley’s fantastic ideas have not yet come with a built-in voice of reason, and the finale – a perfect rendition of Leo riding on Festus – swooped in far too low, impacting against the ground in a fashion that looked sadly deliberate (I assumed Harley had been going for the triumphant return of Leo), but unfortunately a dragon made of fireworks is not quite the same as a dragon built of celestial bronze.
Far too many campers got caught up as collateral damage, sporting burns that varied from minor first degree to unpleasant second degree (reflexes, and likely the fact that none of the otherwise occupied couples had been directly in the path of the firework-dragon, saved the demigods from third and higher. I also suspect I was not the only one cautious about the mastermind behind the display). My own children did not escape – Will was one such second-degree victim, having pushed Nico out of the way but failed to completely dodge himself, which only further cemented my thoughts that he would not be doing anything in the infirmary over this. Except resting and recovering, that is. Yan likewise ended up with a burn on their arm, and Jerry’s shoulder had also fallen casualty.
Harley looked close to tears – perhaps he would learn some consequences without anyone needing to directly interfere, although I felt no joy at the blame he would no doubt load onto his too-young shoulders – and it certainly did not help that Nico was looking more than a little murderous as he tentatively held Will as close as he could without further aggravating the burns. Will, for his part, was attempting to escape and check out his siblings – and then, no doubt, the rest of the campers – but Nico and I were in clear agreement that for once the healer was to sit down and let someone else do the fussing.
That someone else, if it wasn’t clear, ended up being me, as I’d suspected might happen.
I tasked Nico with transporting a protesting Will to the infirmary and couldn’t find it in me to scold him when he took that as permission to shadow travel them both away. It was quick, the distance was short, and I could sense no risk of fading in him. My other kids did an admirable job of assisting in triage and in no time at all I had most of the first degree burns treated and sent to their cabins to rest before it was time to begin the process of healing the rest.
It was certainly not the end to the night I’d been hoping for, that was for sure.
#trials of apollo#trials of apollo fanfiction#riordanverse#riordanverse fanfic#pjo apollo#pjo harley#will solace#nico di angelo#kayla knowles#austin lake#toa jerry#toa yan#tsari writes fanfiction#toapril
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
TOGA!
and the answer she’s looking for: a very long ramble.
Toga! Toga Himiko! Her quirk lets her transform into anyone she wants, provided she’s got their blood. When she was 14, she reportedly stabbed a classmate she had a crush on to take a sip of his blood, and from then on, she’s been on the run. Spent the next two years on the streets, dodging Heroes and avoiding capture, until she joined the League of Villains. Now she’s 17 years old - still a minor, though, and that’s likely why Giran says her name has been kept under wraps, at least until Kamino:
So that’s 14+ years of her life living as a “normal” kid, going to school, having friends, living with a family— as far as we know, out of the League, Toga is the one member that had been living most adjacent to the standard norms of the world; been enculturated/socialized as a person living in a Hero society. (Shigaraki was raised from age 5 by All For One, Twice was on his own as an homeless orphan for more than half his life, Spinner was a hikkikomori, etc) She was from “the other side”, she was from the “right” side, part of the civilian population that Heroes had a duty to protect.
In other words, she would’ve learned, from an early age, that when she’s in trouble, a Hero will come save her. Heroes are good people, Heroes are there to help, Heroes protect everyone. Symbols of justice and peace, associated with fairness and kindness and all that nice stuff, etc etc. Heroes are people who save people.
So... why is Toga so scared of Heroes?
Ever since her attack on her classmate, she’s been running, desperate to avoid capture. When I say ‘desperate’, I do mean desperate.
Everyday she has had to run, and so she had to learn some street smarts, gain new skills, train her instincts. Within two years, she’s mastered her quirk and all it entails - like observing people, behaving just as the original person did or close enough, and measuring the exact amount of blood needed to finish her goal without killing the person (Camie). Within two years, she can hold her own in a knife fight and more, she has learned to be sneaky as heck and gain a frankly supernatural level of hiding, and who knows what else.
Which is understandable. She’s up against multiple Pro Heroes, which Shigaraki has said regular Villains don’t stand a chance against, probably because Heroes are trained combatants who have mastered their quirks and have years of experience. So she had to learn fast and quick. Toga says the trick is to not see the training as training - because to her, it wasn’t, it was like being thrown into a rushing river to learn how to swim or else drown.
But still— why? Why this amount of fear? Why throw her lot with Villains and the underworld at 14 years old, instead of going to juvenile court and rehabilitation?
Why in the world did she think she’ll be better off hiding among vicious, dangerous Villains than Heroes that are supposed to help her, like she’s been (supposedly, I admit) taught her whole life? Heroes, who are people who save other people.
And she’s still scared! She’s joined up with the nation’s most notorious terrorists, but she kept her wariness. Moment more Class A students - kids younger than her, still just trainees - shows up, she’s retreating, she picking flight over fight.
—saying she doesn’t want to die. It’s a statement that I think we can logically say comes from a belief of something like, “Heroes can kill me,” which then also logically means—
To Toga, getting caught by Heroes will mean she’ll be killed by them.
No, she’s not insane. No, she’s not some airheaded teenager prone to melodrama. No, she’s not a ‘psychopath’. Toga’s got some strange ideas about love, but otherwise she’s perfectly functional: she’s clever, she’s able to assess the situation and risks and act upon that information, and she’s shown to be observant and empathetic to her teammates, especially Jin. Any ‘damage’ she has isn’t from reasoning or understanding social norms and cues. She’s smart, she gets people, and she knows that as a Villain, she’s liable to be executed by a Hero. Even if that was just a fear before, she’s now seen it happen in reality to Twice.
I think we can all agree that in a civil society, people who have done wrong still deserves to have the right to due process and a trial, and not be executed right then and there on the street. That’s the agreement most societies has come to on conflict resolution - innocent until proven guilty beyond reasonable doubt, and despite what crimes you’ve committed, there’s a system to give you a fair chance for amends and atonement. Ideally, when you know you’ve done something wrong, you’ll turn yourself in because you expect to still be treated as a person and that the justice you’ll receive is appropriate. At the very least, that’s the better option than living the rest of your life on the run, always looking over your shoulder, possibly committing even more crimes because you’ve run out of options in your effort to not get caught.
But that’s not what’s happening here, with Toga. Whatever she learned from her 14 years of life in Hero Society tells her that now that she has committed a crime, a Hero will come and kill her.
And that’s kinda messed up. Why is that?
Putting aside Twice’s situation for now, we haven’t seen blatant proof of this - that if you’re a Villain, you might as well have a target painted on your head for a sniper’s bullet. What we have seen is the masses’ quick and harsh condemnation of potential criminals. Toga’s parents essentially disowned her after the stabbing incident.
But even with people who haven’t done anything wrong yet, people are so quick to judge.
“Does he even have a future?” That’s harsh, Journalist man. Bakugou’s a kid, 15 years old, he’s the victim here of a Villain plot, and here you’re talking about “no future” - meaning no career, no functional role in society, no chance for a normal life. That’s like giving him up for the dead. There’s not even a body and you’re already chipping in the words for the gravestone. Except maybe even worse, because there’s at least the courtesy to not speak ill of the dead; Villains tho, Villains are ‘bad’, ‘evil’, ‘violent’. Demon child.
What we have seen is a terrifying ostracization of anyone deemed criminal, considered acting against a Hero’s work, considered outside the norm. You’ve got people giving up on you, you’ve got your property getting vandalized—
And maybe you even eventually get a lost kid denied help for not looking like a proper victim.
If you’ve got any association with being a Villain, Heroes aren’t gonna help you. Even if that’s not true, I think people can be forgiven for thinking that from what we’ve seen. Toga certainly thinks this. Villains won’t be helped, even if they need it. That’s what she has gleaned from all her years living in Hero society; that’s what all the Heroes might do to her, if she ever gets caught, and she’s not getting caught to find out; and now that’s what she has seen, her friend dying right in front of her, killed by a Hero. Villains - and those who approach that label in any capacity - don’t get saved by Heroes; they are at best defeated, at worse killed.
So then, if Heroes are people who save other people, then who exactly are those who Heroes don’t save?
And that’s the answer she needs to know.
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey, Can you make (Bayverse) Starscream meets (TFP) Knock Out?
Knock Out came to with an aching helm and a curse on his lips. He groaned as he sat up, one palm dressing to his forehead and blinking away the static overlaying his vision. He looked around himself once he could see clearly, pausing when he noticed that he was in the middle of an organic forest. The realization made his upper lip curl faintly, and he looked down at himself. And that was when he froze in horror. His finish! It was ruined! There were scrapes in the paint and he was covered in all manner of dirt and other organic filth. He hated it. The medic scowled as he stood, red optics shining with rage. Whoever was responsible for this was going to pay very dearly, he decided. For now, though, he had to get back to base.
He paused as he heard jet engines overhead, optics narrowing. Now, was that one of the little squishies or was it one of the Decepticons? That question was answered when there was the sound of a transformation and a heavy metal form crashed through the tree tops to land in front of him. A red gaze landed on him, and Knock Out could see rage and disgust building in the flyer’s optics before he paused. The look was replaced with confusion and suspicion, and then he spoke.
“Autobots do not usually have red optics.” he growled, voice deep and with a permanent growl woven into it. “Yet I know of no Decepticon who wears such bright colors.” Those optics narrowed to pinpricks. “Speak, stranger. Who are you?”
It was at this point the medic paused. How did this flyer not know who he was? Knock Out was the only proper doctor in the entirety of the Decepticon army. (No, Hook did not count. He did not have the training or the license, for all he had the learned skill). All the others had been offlined in the War. He would have thought that every bot on either side knew him, if only because they knew what he was.
“I am Knock Out.” he said carefully. “And who are you?”
The flyer grinned here, the look savage and far to gleeful for his comfort. “I am Starscream, second in command of the Decepticons!” he announced.
Knock Out blinked slowly, once, twice, then a third time, before fury twisted his features and he let loose a litany of vicious, filthy curses in Cybertronian, combining several dialects and even throwing in one or two curses from the dead languages he’d enjoyed studying in his youth. It made Starscream rear back, optics wide with shock and and EM field buzzing with disbelief. After several long minutes, in which the Seeker could only stare in a growing sense of horrified fascination, (wait, Knock threatened to do what with an engine and an intake? Ouch. Starscream did not want to be in the place of whatever poor fool as angered the bright red Cybertronian), the Aston Martin spit out one last curse before his expression smoothed over and he turned to the Seeker. Starscream, by this point, had taken several steps back and was now hoping that this bot wouldn’t turn his ire on him.
“So sorry about that.” Knock Out said lightly. “I’m afraid I just understood how I got here, and the mech responsible for this mess is going to feel every bit of my wrath when I return.”
Starscream blinked. “I…see.” he said carefully.
Knock Out smirked. “I don’t think you do, so allow me to re-introduce myself.” He stepped forward, crossing an arm across his chest. “My name is Knock Out.” he said with a flourish. “Chief medic to the Decepticons.” he finished his introduction with a dramatic bow.
Starscream sneered. “Impossible!” he snarled. “The Decepticons have no medic. Our last one was offlined by Optimus Prime. This must be some puny Autobot trick!
Knock Out blinked. “Goodness, Sweet Rims actually offlined a bot that wasn’t just a Vehicon drone?” he mused. “This really is different.”
The Seeker reared back, reeling over the fact that this so-called “medic” had just called Optimus Prime Sweet Rims, of all things. Then the second statement caught up to him and he frowned. “Different.” he repeated in a deadpan.
“Yes!” Knock Out threw his hands to the air, the gesture wide and dramatic. “You see, my dear Starscream,” he purred, clasping his hands behind his back. “I am from another dimension entirely.”
Well, that was a new one.
“Explain.”
“In my world, the Great War between the Decepticons and Autobots ended up being brought to a small organic planet called Earth. I assume it’s the same here.” he said, gesturing around them. “Recently, Lord Megatron, that is, my Lord Megatron became aware of the existence of the Iacon Relics. They’re powerful artifacts that were stored in the vaults of Iacon before it’s destruction, and sent away from the planet before they could come into Decepticon possession.” he said. “Lord Megatron learned that possessing the relics granted whoever had them a rather significant advantage, especially certain specific relics like the Relics of the Primes.”
Starscream snorted. “Get to the point.”
Knock Out sighed dramatically. “Oh, very well.” he drawled. “The point is: myself and my partner were sent to retrieve a relic that had only just began putting out a detectable signal. According to our data files on it, it had been created by the old Senate before the war. Unfortunately, the research notes on the subject were corrupted, but what little of the research was clear suggested that the device had been created to study the multiverse theory.” Here, he paused and glanced around himself. “Given that you’re Starscream, and the Starscream I know looks nothing like you, and you do not know me, and the Decepticons have no medic…” he trailed off, raising his hands, palms up as he shrugged. “It would seem that the device was for more than just researching the multiverse theory. The last thing I remember is grabbing it and making for the ground bridge, only for that Pit damned Wrecker to shoot the device in hopes of keeping it from falling into Decepticon hands. Then there was a flash of light and a surge of energy, and what do you know, I’m waking up here!” he finished, through his arms out with a flourish.
Starscream frowned. That…actually lined up. He had been sent ahead of Sideways and Barricade, who were also on their way to this location, because the sensors at the hidden Decepticon base had picked up a surge of unknown energy. If Knock Out was the cause of that surge, and given the fact he was here at its location he might very well be, then it would stand to reason that his story was actually true. Even aside from that, Starscream could pick up no deception in his field or EM field. Granted, bots could still lie even without their voices or fields giving it away, but Starscream was a master at lying, and prided himself on being able to sniff out deception like a turbo-fox sniffing out cyber-rats. Nothing he could tell suggested Knock Out was lying. Which meant his story was, at the very least, partly true.
“I see.” he said, voice devoid of any intonation.
The medic narrowed his optics at the seeming non-reaction, his arms crossing almost delicately in front of his chassis. Something about the way this Starscream had said that made his instincts itch. He didn’t like it. This version of the Air Commander was so very different from his. His Starscream was more skittish and wary, though that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. In fact, given how his Megatron treated his second in command, the Aston Martin was entirely unsurprised at his Starscream’s more lacking confidence. As of late, Lord Megatron had been….well, even more unhinged than usual. Given how Megatron had taken to lashing out at Starscream for ever petty grievance, it was no wonder the more lithe Seeker was jumpy. This Starscream had many of the same core personality traits, from what he could see, but his behavior was quite a bit different.
“You needn’t worry about me causing any issues in your world.” he said airily, forcing his processor back in track. He dusted some dried dirt of off arm, lip curling upwards in disgust as the stuff flaked off his armor. “I’ll find a place to lay low and stay out of sight of any locals, be it Cybertronian or human. I’m certain Lord Megatron will either fix the device if it was broken or retrieve it if it was stolen and find a way to bring me back.” he said airily. His tone was confident, and though his words sounded like it, he wasn’t bragging.
It was a fact. The Decepticons needed him. None of the others knew how to do proper medical care. Breakdown could certainly perform the simpler procedures, and most soldiers knew basic field care, but Knock Out was the only one who could handle the injuries that went beyond that. Without him, the Decepticons of his world wouldn’t be able to heal their injured soldiers, which would mean more ‘Cons would die and they’d eventually deplete their numbers enough to put the Autobots at an advantage. As vain as it may sound, Knock Out knew that, right after Megatron and Soundwave, he was the most essential member of the Decepticon forces when it came to keeping the faction running,
Starscream clearly didn’t like his tone of voice, however, because the Seeker growled in displeasure. “Oh? And what makes you so certain?”
Knock Out snorted, one optic ridge arching up. “Oh, don’t get so sour.” he admonished. “I told you, I am the Chief Medic to the Decepticons. I am also, however, their only medic. I can put mechs back together from scrap metal, if I must.” he made a vague gesture with his hand. “I do not mean to sound so vain, but I am very much needed by the Decepticon forces back home.” he said airily. “I’m the only trained, licensed medic they have, after all.”
Starscream stared at him for a long moment, and Knock Out did not like the suddenly considering look in his sharp gaze. “I see.” he narrowed his eyes. “So you’re a skillful medic, then?”
The red mech paused. “I’m not as good as Ratchet,” he said carefully. “But I was in the top of the field before the War broke out.”
Starscream smirked, then, the expression showing just a hint of teeth. Knock about suddenly had a very, very bad feeling. “I see.” the Seeker repeated, sounding sickeningly pleased.
There was the sound of pede steps behind them, and two mechs stepped out from the foliage. Starscream lifted his gaze, head tilting with a dark grin. “Barricade, Sideways.” he hummed. “I see you finally made it.” He flashed teeth in an expression that bordered on a sneer. “I’d like you two to meet Knock Out,” He gestured at the increasingly tense medic. “Our newest medic.” He finished with a vicious grin.
Knock Out tensed, his armor plating clamping closed and tight. Oh, he’d been right. He didn’t like this. “Excuse me?” he hissed.
He was ignored. The two new mechs glanced at each other, then looked at him, clearly unimpressed. “He’s a medic? He’s very…bright. Is he a ‘Bot? The silver one asked, sounding dubious.
Starscream hummed. “No, Knock Out here is a certified Deception medic. We’ve been unable to fix any injured warriors properly ever since Prime took out Scalpel. Our new friend here is from…somewhere else.” he smirked. “But he should fill Scalpels’s pedes quite well.”
The black and white mech shrugged. “Works for me. He’s real colorful alright, but he looks too sharp for an Autobot. And Autobots’s don’t have red optics, either.” he sounded bemused.
Knock Out, by this point, had enough if being ignored. His hand transformed into his saw, and the blade whirled to life. “I think,” he snarled. “You will find that I am not quite so willing to go along with you, Starscream. I’ll be found by my own eventually, so I suggest you and your little friends frag off and leave me be.” he hissed.
There was the sound of smaller transformations, and all three mechs were pointing weapons at him. “Weapon away, doctor.” Starscream said, sickeningly sweet. “You are outnumbered, and if you offline one of us the other two will have you subdued easily enough.”
Knock Out snarled furiously, his engine all but roaring with his rage, but he knew the Seeker was right. He did as he was told, and the two mechs behind him stepped up, one on either side, to grip his arms and force them behind his back. He glared at the Seeker, gaze promising pain.
Starscream only stepped closer, reaching out to tap the medic’s chin with a finger. “I think, Knock Out,” He said with a dark grin. “That you will find Lord Megatron reluctant to simply allow you to be stolen away now that we have you. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised if he orders Soundwave and perhaps even Shockwave to develop a way to ensure you cannot be tracked and retrieved by your friends.” He leaned in close, lips twisting in a mocking sneer. “You belong to us now, little medic.”
Knock Out was tense, his processor racing. This was bad. If that was true, then he doubted he’d be able to ever return home. Unless he could get away now, that is. But he likely wouldn’t be able to. He was the smallest mech here. All three of the duller Decepticons were taller and bulkier than he was. He wouldn’t be able to fight all of them. The medic growled, low and angry, and leaned forward against the hold the other two had on him. It caused their claws to dig into and scratch the paint of his arms, but for once he didn’t care. He got as close to Starscream’s face as he could, eyes holding dark promise.
“You had better pray to Primus that you never end up on my medical berth, Starscream.” He said, voice low. “Because while I may fix you, I will also ensure that your stay in my medical bay makes the Unmaker’s Pits seem like the Well of All Sparks.”
There was a rough laugh behind him, and then he was being yanked away from the still Seeker. “Come on, Doc. Time to get moving.” The silver mech grinned.
He was guided firmly through the forest, until they came to an empty road. He obeyed the cold order to transform from the black and white mech, and then they two larger bots followed suit and boxed him in. Making sure to keep the red medic trapped between them, they drove back towards the Decepticon base, the newest acquisition of the Deceptions firmly in tow.
Back at the clearing where Knock Out had appeared, Starscream remained frozen for a moment longer. Suddenly, he felt like he might have made his decision just a little too hastily, and he remembered the creative threats and curses the smaller bit had spat out. If Knock Out was actually capable of even half the things he had threatened in that little spiel, and Starscream got the unpleasant feeling he was, then he very, very much did in fact hope he never had to go to the medic for repairs. Though, given his luck as of late…he had a feeling he’d be seeing the doctor sooner than he thought.
Frag.
#request fic#silkling request fics#tfp knockout#bayverse starscream#knockout#Starscream#TFP#transformers prime#transformers bayverse#bayformers#transformers crossover#Starscream makes a mistake#angry knock out is scary#Starscream has regrets#knock out is gonna kill all of them out of spite#just you watch#maccadam
125 notes
·
View notes
Note
You know, there's a thing with characters that foil each other and serve as the "good" and "bad" respectively (Toga/Himiko, Tenko/Izuku, Nagito/Hajime, Ryoko/Hajime, Atsushi/Akutagawa) but that trope felt rather annoying to write, especially in the world I am trying to write about (ALTERNATIVE's world is basically MHA X BSD but like. 1000 times more fucked up and the Specialised are always prejudiced against. A terrible lot).
The title itself, ALTERNATIVE is to symbolise Romila's POV of "infinite choices and paths present for every being" and how she starts off the story with a decisive line of,
"Many people ask me if this could have been avoided. They beg for me to tell them that things could have been better. There are others too, who try to justify that this was the only way for things to have been. If you ask me, both are living in states of denial. One can't accept the stupidity of humanity for disregarding common sense for violence and prejudices. Another can't accept humanity's choice for having better circumstances if the one with the power chose to."
The thing is, the running theme is that the story is a bittersweet one, despite there not being many deaths of the main characters, but there was always a junction where you can see it could have been avoided, that there was an "alternative" for things to have gotten better, especially in the first book.
Another reason for the title is that it's basically an "ALTERNATIVE" to this world of ours, where super powers and stuff like those exist.
The subtitles of both the books (Myriad of Colours, Colour of Death) signifies Romila's power, "Aura Tracker" which lets her view people's aura as colours (Myriad of Colours is to signify the different kinds of people she meets, Colour of Death is about what affects her the most (death) and how she's constantly seeing that colour everywhere, especially now that it's war).
The thing about ALTERNATIVES is that Romila could have chosen to be a doormat (like Koldin tends to be at the beginning (his rp self is like THAT due to circumstances different to ALTERNATIVE's actual storyline. Also because Hack's a nicer person to be around than Romila is) in order to nOt hAvE cOnFliCt™) to not get into conflict and put up a super nice persona for people but she didn't. She decided to focus on hanging onto her reasons for doing what she does and using it to create a caustic personality to shield herself because she knows that she will regret being a doormat (Her Despair takes the form of Koldin Hopkins).
Now Koldin could have certainly put his hatred for society at the forefront and taken a caustic personality but instead chooses to be nice. Because he doesn't want to become as hurtful as the rest, that's how he wants to disentangle himself from society. However he, like Romila (who just took standing up for herself to extremes), takes this to the extremes causing him to gain the personality of a nice boy™.
However this also goes into why they made the choices they did (which is what Romila realises during the Mansion of Death arc), because for Romila, she didn't really have the psychology for actually becoming a doormat (because a) Her mom wouldn't have it b) She hated to be called weak c) She didn't have anyone to fall back to after the inevitable consequences of being a doormat d) She felt that if she were to live with monsters, then it's easier to blend in by being one (this comes useful to her when she infiltrates into the Government) e) She saw doormats getting suicidal which frightened her) or not becoming fully caustic (since her standing up for herself wasn't. Liked. By. Anyone. And seen as aggressive and she basically went, "Well if they see me as bad, I will show them BAD" which led to her breakdown causing the incidents at the Mansion Of Death (especially a twisted hatred against Koldin for extremely understandable reasons).
For Koldin, being meek and peaceful had let him get by in the streets and his skills to difuse fights had come in handy. Later when Dr. Hopkins took him in, he was well. A member of the Radicals who were known to be extremely merciless towards the Specialised (he had defected but Koldin had a REALLY good reason to be wary) so he figured if he stayed nice, he wouldn't be kicked out of the house and Dr. Hopkins being Dr. Hopkins just assumed that it was his normal and that behaviour carried into school. He figured that it was a horrifying thing to be aggressive and then saw how Romila got treated and decided that yep, he was right, that confirmed his world view alright and it was more reason to be super nice. While Romila saw Koldin as a person who everyone took advantage of (a thing she hated. To be exploited just like that) and went, yep that confirmed hers and it was more reason to be super angry.
However the thing is that, Romila was chided for being anything, which caused her to just give up to be peaceful (because what would she do? Anything she tried to do got her scolded) while Koldin (thankfully) found a support system. It really goes to show the difference a good friend can do.....
As it is, when I first began writing this, the most obvious choice presented itself to me. Koldin is the "hope" and Romila is the "despair" (on the protagonist, deutergonist side) but that seemed stupid and boring as it wouldn't make sense. Since I am trying to make a point of showing with how Romila's world view gradually changes from "there are wrong and right choices" to the fact that it doesn't have to be rigid and that *now* she wouldn't be hurt if she used what her vulnerable side wanted (a world free of prejudices and unnecessary cruelty) with the talents she had. That kindness mixed with her usual personality won't literally kill her.
And for Koldin, being a doormat means that he got taken advantage of a lot by different people and since he refused to actually stand up for himself ("Ah...aha......it seems that I can't..." "Can't what?" "Feel angry for myself......it's always anger that comes from the ones I love being hurt" "Then love yourself too, you will feel angry again" ~ Koldin's conversation with his inverted self in the Labyrinth) he got. Taken advantage of. By virtually everyone. However he decided that if being nice would keep him keep his self and his name self then it would be fine. He did not want to be the source of grief (his actual parents tossed him out because of his Specialisation). The Mansion Of Death actually causes him to snap for that reason, because Romila literally puts him in a torture dream "for the greater good" and then proceeds to kill his dear friend. One thing Koldin HATED. Killing friends. (Due to them being run over by a car, which led to his paralysed left arm)
Now on the other side, their respective friends:
Romila:
Luja: Cynical and annoyed by people's stupidity but not to caustic extents and she wants to be a scientist and isn't haunted by the possibility of dying.
Kratanos: Full of anger and hatred against the world but not entirely blinded by it and is focused to using that anger for reformation of the world (she becomes a therapist later, to help people)
They both have her caustic parts but they also let themselves embrace another side which makes them her "balance".
Koldin:
Anand: Believes that there's no requirement for violence unless it's absolutely necessary.
Karishma: Figures it's a better idea to just listen to rules but doesn't hesitate to break them if she sees that they are bs
They both have his peacefulness, but don't hesitate to do what they think they should do, which makes them his "balance".
The point is that, the case of choosing alternatives isn't possible with a tunnel vision. Even so, there are choices that literally can't be made due to the individual and circumstances. Sometimes the choice is to choose more than one choice. Well, that's one dramatic storyline......
It reminds me of DDLC side stories since everyone has a bit of the other person's solutions and more of a opposite personality (don't take this the wrong way, there are many stories like that and it's honestly a favourite to think abt but it's just that DDLC does it well especially since it's only a school environment). Tbh, I like dramatic storylines that rlly dig deep into a character's perspective (reasons why I'm in love with Hack and Axel in particular). My whole thing is that I'd rather read a story with interesting and in depth characters than one where only the plot is good so I say you made the great call of the century with Koldin and Romila's characters.
What you thought before getting into it is rlly how every great character arc starts. You focus on one, somewhat forget the other one until you review every single character for inspiration and then BAM! PARALLELS! It's really admirable how, even in this messed up world of specializations, you didn't purely focus on the plot bc it honestly sounds interesting enough to just stick around for Romila's life and journey. You could have ended it all with just that, but no, you smacked Koldin in there and said "be my interesting on par character that can kick Romila's gut" and IT WORKED SPECTACULARLY!!!
I really love ur writing and hoping to one day read (and maybe print out) every story you've ever written bc GODDAMNIT I NEED THE FEELING OF THOSE WORDS ON WORN PAPER WITH AN ARTISTIC COVER AND AN AMAZINGLY HEAVY WEIGHT
Aka, paperback. Bc that's how I like to roll and that's how good I think it is. 1000% worthy of a bestseller
14 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
