#verified travel leads
Text
— Voicelines about Creator!Reader (Liyue) ♡ ！
⊹ [ characters ] — Beidou, Chongyun, Ganyu, Hu Tao, Keqing, Ningguang, Qiqi, Shenhe, Xiangling, Xiao, Xingqiu, Xinyan, Yanfei, Yaoyao, Yelan, Yun Jin & Zhongli. ◞
⊹ [ synopsis ] — let's see what they think about you. ◞
⊹ [ cw ] — religious theme. ◞
⠀‣ Beidou
About The Creator: Relaxation
"We had to bring them to Inazuma for a few times, apparently they really wanted to travel with The Crux. Take important person like this isn't really what we do but you know my eye for people, Y/n seemed to be more than what we heard, they were a good travel buddy, playing with the crew and telling interesting stories from another world. Sad, the guards with them don't let them drink 'A drunk God in Inazuma? What would they think?'... But who cares what they think, they should let them have a bit of fun!"
About The Creator: Consort
"You can say traveling has brought us closer, haha! I'm really happy to have find someone like them. I'll never forget the celebration we had on the ship, the weather was kind to us this day, and the food was far better than what we're used to eat, and how could I forgot the drinks, I never saw Y/n that... wild, it's quite the experience, but it's good to see them without having to worry about anything."
⠀
⠀‣ Chongyun
About The Creator
"Like me they have an energy that keeps away evil spirits from them, I suppose spirits are too scared to approach in fear of vanishing into fin air. So, I wonder why people still ask me thinking they need an exorcism, last time, we called me because apparently the Creator had an unusual behavior, rambling unknown words beyond any language experts' knowledge, turned out they just had too many drinks with the leader of The Crux..."
⠀
⠀‣ Ganyu
About The Creator: Relating
"The Qixing had to work a few times with them, and I noticed they always seem a bit anxious so I always try to help them when I can, maybe it's also because I relate to them a bit, they are our Creator but they act more like a mortal, they are trapped between two worlds, leading to confusion not only for them but also others, which would always lead to critiques..."
About The Creator: Consort
"I have still a lot to finish about this, people from all regions will come so we need to strengthen the Millelith to keep everything in order, the music group that was supposed to perform left us so I have to look through the applications again, I need to verify the special invitations just in case there's an error in the date or location. Also, I'll have to go soon for the Sumeru's flowers that should arrive this afternoon. An union between who, you ask? O-Oh... me and Y/n of course! Sorry if I wasn't clear. There's no need to worry about me, I just want everything to be perfect, I don't think I will be able to not blame myself if something bad happened, I know Y/n told me they'll be happy no matter what as long as I'm with them, but that just makes me want to work more for a perfect ceremony."
⠀
⠀‣ Hu Tao
About The Creator
"Even the most superior being needs a long rest sometimes, if it's meant to happen again, the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor would be more than honored to prepare a noble ceremony for their departure. Better be quick, and offer them our buy one get one free special!"
⠀
⠀‣ Keqing
About The Creator
"Due to their return, people expect them to rule over Teyvat, which includes Liyue. People also pray to them for the minor inconvenients... *sigh* We can't rely on Gods for everything, we're perfectly capable to survive as our own, and Y/n don't seem convinced to govern alone, even before their death it was never said that the Creator was the one who ruled Teyvat, they simply enjoyed interacting with their creations."
⠀
⠀‣ Ningguang
About The Creator: Tour
"It is a great pleasure to welcome a such honorable guest into Liyue, especially when they were the one who helped us to save our nation. As the Tianquan I was more than glad to have the chance to make them visit the city, it was cute to see them insisting to pay even with no mora on them."
About The Creator: Consort
"I've heard people telling that I accepted their proposal to make my items more valuable and attract more persons to come and make deals in Liyue. In short, our marriage is just a business partnership and not an act of pure love. You... don't believe that, do you? Y/n is worth more than any amount of mora for me, and not because they're the Creator. I know I don't need to prove myself to anyone but I'm concerned if one day Y/n will listen to those rumors."
⠀
⠀‣ Qiqi
About The Creator
"I don't remember who this is... Sorry."
About Y/n
"Y/n is the one who gave me a finch, I named it just like them because they're both nice with me, so when I forgot one of them I just need to look at the other to remember... Uhh, who were we talking about?"
⠀
⠀‣ Shenhe
About The Creator: Disciple
"My family was from a clan of exorcists so they were followers of them, the clan sent prayers and asked for blessings when performing an exorcism. When my mother died, not only did my father abandon me but them too. Maybe that's why I became one of the Acolytes."
About The Creator: Consort
"My master insisted to meet Y/n, not only because they're the Creator but my partner, she wanted to meet the one who 'tamed my heart'. When they did meet, let's say both of their personalities didn't really match well together which gave... an interesting show, but at the end they agreed to share and listen to stories of my childhood..."
⠀
⠀‣ Xiangling
About The Creator
"They told me about dishes from their other world, just hearing about them makes my stomach growl, I'd love cook those dishes if they ever feel homesick, not only can food be delicious but bring warm feelings, and not just because it's hot! But I also love making them try food from here and they always seem to like and excited when I bring them a nice cooked meal!"
⠀
⠀‣ Xiao
About The Creator: Unusual
"They're a God, the oldest one, and yet their body and mind are just as weird and vulnerable as a human."
About The Creator: Consort
"Hm... Yes, about that. Could you help me with something? They always seem to care about me a lot, trying to heal me and making me food, even though I need none of this, but I heard it's expected to show gratitude to the person who cares about you. Since they act more like a human, I don't know what should I offer them. Flowers? Hm... Maybe something that gives me more work, picking up flowers isn't enough to thank them for everything they have done for me. Flowers crowns? I mean... I guess I can try to make one. You think that would make them smile if I had one too? Fine... Show me how to do it."
⠀
⠀‣ Xingqiu
About The Creator
"Ah, they're quite the difficult topic to avoid. My presence was required when my family invited them for a warm welcome to Liyue, I cannot say more as it was a private meeting, but I didn't imagine them with such a casual and clumsy personality, if you would have seen the faces of my father and brother, hehe... Just to say another meeting won't come anytime soon."
⠀
⠀‣ Xinyan
About The Creator
"Who'd think that someone like them would like my performance? Even better, they encourage it! I mean, that's understandable, staying with the most uptight persons and doing boring work all day... Can't even imagine the nightmare, they certainly got the rock 'n' roll's spirit!"
⠀
⠀‣ Yanfei
About The Creator
"Ah... Yes, I'm aware that because of their position we allow them more than we should, but it's not like anyone mind or they do anything bad, the worse that happened was them and Xinyan being a bit too loud. I've heard of a fireworks show in all of Inazuma and a wanted gang getting out of prison, but it's outside of my territory to talk furthermore."
⠀
⠀‣ Yaoyao
About The Creator
"They're always so heavily guarded, so you can always be sure they are in good health with no injuries, but I do worry about how they feel with being followed by people who watch your every move all day. So, whenever I see them, I ask how are they and I always have a ration of their favorite food with me. If you encounter them, tell hi from me and to take care!"
⠀
⠀‣ Yelan
About The Creator: Easy target
"If you knew the number of cases related to them, from little scammers to hitmen, there sure is a great variety. Since the Creator has a more powerful influence than strength, criminals think they are the perfect target for great sum of mora, but they sometimes underestimate a bit too much those close to the Creator and I'm not talking about the Millelith."
About The Creator: Consort
"Shh, not so loud. Surprised, aren't we? That means we're doing a good job at keeping it as a secret. I don't want to be known and blow up my cover, plus with the danger it can attract to them, so we can't announce it publicly but it's not that bad, seeing others thinking they have a chance with them is a funny show, unless Y/n feels uncomfortable, to this I'll attend to it personally when nobody is watching."
⠀
⠀‣ Yun Jin
About The Creator
" 'Through a simple whisper, thousands winds started to blow. Hands drew a river, rising waves emerged from the flow. Love was poured into the earth, and life began to grow~' Aren't these beautiful lyrics? There's a few operas about the Creator as we didn't know them much. We invited them but they appeared a bit embarrassed, which I can understand, so I try to sing tales that aren't about them and might fit their taste. I'm used to hear praises but their enthusiasm about my singing never fails to delight me."
⠀
⠀‣ Zhongli
About The Creator: Hopeful future
"I was surprised to hear about their reincarnation, especially about memories from another world. I had the occasions to talk to them, even if they may seem lost sometimes and lack experiences, the love they share for this world is real and the people around them returns this feeling, with a modern and ambitious mind like them, I'm sure the future of Teyvat will be bright."
About The Creator: Consort
"You want to know more about our contract? Well, our feelings for each other were mutual and we had the same promise which was to keep the other safe and happy, naturally we came to do the ultimate promise to stay together until death separates us, but I fear even this won't be able to break our contract, one that I shall forever cherish and respect. They're quite busy but I stay patient for them to come and see me when they finish with tea that I prepared for relaxing them after a stressful day."
© ་ ׅ : pls don't translate or copy this | don't reblog with yand3r3/cult tags or if you’re a yand3r3 blog/reblog account.
@ ་ ׅ : @haileyo0ostuff
#Genshin x reader#Genshin impact x reader#Zhongli x reader#Xiao x reader#Beidou x reader#Ganyu x reader#Ningguang x reader#Shenhe x reader#Yelan x reader#chongyun#Hu tao#keqing#Qiqi#Xianling#xinqiu#xinyan#Yanfei#Yaoyao#Sagau#Genshin creator au#Yun jin
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Bella’s Streamer Girlfriend
paring ✦ Bella Ramsey x fem!reader
summary ✦ Bella is exhausted from their constant travel for work. As her partner who just so happens to be a famous streamer you suggest they move in with you. What happens when Bella accidentally goes live showing you streaming? this is a request
word count ✦ 2,202
authors note ✦ hope y’all enjoy appreciate everyone one of you ilyyyyyy
masterlist
Feedback & Reblogs are helpful and extremely appreciated ♡
“Why don’t you just move in with me?” You suggest, a thought you’ve had for several months now just now finally making it out into existence. Bella had been fretting over how tiring all the travel has become.
“What?” Bella asks.
“Well we’ve been dating for two years and you’re always here anyways so..” Your voice trails off thinking you’ve said too much.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah I mean there’s not much room but we’ll figure it out. We can move my stream set up into the guest bedroom.” Bella doesn’t respond fast enough causing you to panic. Before you can ramble some more or even worse take it back she responds.
“Yes.” Bella says nodding her head.
“Yes? Like yes you want move in with me?”
“Yes.” She grins softly realizing what she’s just agreed to. Bella closes the distance between you two throwing her arms around your waist. Hugging you, slightly elevating you from the ground emitting laughter from you.
“How wicked? I get to live in LA with my beatuiful streamer girlfriend?”
—
Bella was the first to make a move two years ago. After finding out they got the role of Ellie in The Last of Us tv adaptation they poorly attempted to play the game. After failing the first part several times they opened YouTube. Your video of you playing the original game long ago is the first one.
Their attraction to you is immediate. Binging your videos lead to a follow on instagram. No idea who Bella Ramsey was but you followed back anyways seeing they were verified. Finding them attractive and your beliefs aligning with theirs so proudly displayed on their profile. Bella is silent with their crush on you until one fateful day.
An interview after Bella’s announced to play Ellie:
“Fans are so excited to see this iconic game come to life on television. Did you know anything about the game before your audition?”
“I knew of it. Like I had heard about it before but I never played it myself.” Bella responds to the interviewer.
“Have you played it yet?”
“No. I tried to but I’m not really a gamer. I played the first twenty minutes before giving up and watching gameplay.”
“Gameplay?”
“Yeah uh this girl on YouTube. Her name is Y/N. Shout out to her cause I watched her play the game. She’s a twitch streamer. She was so good at the game and she’s really…” Bella’s stops talking mid sentence as they realize they’ve said too much.
—
It’s an late night as you live stream. Just chatting with viewers before you hop into the lobby when your feed gets flooded with comments about Bella talking about you.
“Bella Ramsey? Sounds familiar. What did they say?” Your busy scrolling through chat and racking your brain trying to connect the dots.
“It’s Ellie Williams in the tv adaptation.” You say out loud reading a chat. One of your mods sends you the link so you can react to it live on your stream.
“Should I watch it? Everyone’s saying yes. Okay I will react to it.” The link opens up to a YouTube video of a zoom meeting type interview. As the video plays you recognize the short haired brunette as the random famous person that followed you on instagram months ago.
“There’s no way. I didn’t know they were playing Ellie.” You smile watching your screen not paying much attention to chat. It gets to the point where Bella mentions watching gameplay instead of actually playing the game.
“Yeah uh this girl on YouTube. Her name is Y/N.” Bella says in the video.
“That’s me!” You shout, pausing the video. Pressing play when you’re done freaking out.
“Yeah uh this girl on YouTube. Her name is Y/N. Shout out to her cause I watched her play the game. She’s a twitch streamer. She was so good at the game and she’s really…” Bella doesn’t finish their sentence, eyes go wide and their the one to quickly change the subject.
“And really what? What am I Bella?” You pause reading chat. People letting you know all the things you are.
“User2643556 says I’m beautiful, sexy, and amazing. Am I Bella?” You tease, your tone innocent yet flirty.
“Oh what about this Justin says I’m a stupid wanna be gamer. Plus a few other bad words I won’t be reading.” You laugh, watching as your mod kicks them.
“But seriously Bella! And what? What am I? I must know.”
The next day you wake and first thing you do is check your phone, a daily morning ritual. The first notification is from an instagram dm from a verified account, you have to rub the sleep out of your eyes just too make sure your reading it correctly.
Bella: I was gonna say cute but beautiful sexy and amazing works too xx
After your done freaking out you respond with a thank you and a winking emoji. To your surprise Bella continues to message you, you two communicate for a week over instagram dm before Bella gives you their number. The conversation usually flirty filled with getting to know each other. Empty promises to meet in the near future.
—
A handful of die hard The Last of Us fans who all had fairly large followings were invited to the premiere. You being one of them, which came to you as a surprise because you had played the game but there were far more bigger fans out there. You were excited for the opportunity nonetheless. A large part of you more excited at the chance to see Bella.
“We’re so glad you could make it.” The shows social media manager, Victoria who had initially invited you says.
“Thanks for inviting me.”
“Don’t thank me, thank Bella they were adamant on you being here.”
“Oh okay, will do.” You smile, ignoring the fact that if it wasn’t for Bella you wouldn’t be here. Anxiety growing at the thought that Bella wanted you here. How at any moment you’d finally meet her.
After the viewing of the the pilot you are sat with the rest of the influencers invited in the panel room. Cheers notify you that the stars of the show arrived, Bella and Pedro. Your watching Bella as people converse with them. They’re not paying much attention eyes are wondering around the room hopefully looking for you, you think. Smiling ear to ear as they make eye contact with you. Bella had wanted to greet you on the spot but they weren’t aloud to veer from the schedule.
The cast make their way to the stage. Craig and Neil are the first to speak. Thanking everyone for coming and supporting the whole project. Then the cast are asked questions. Too enamored with Bella you don’t touch your food, too nervous to eat. They often sneak a look towards you smiling when they catch your attention.
To your disappointment you don’t get a chance to see Bella. She’s rushed to her table where she eats with the main cast. Then when it’s over she’s guided to somewhere behind the scenes your not aloud. You wait longer than you should have before deciding to book an Uber to take you home.
Your stood outside the building waiting for your Uber, sulking in your own sadness. The night not going how you imagined at all.
“Uber for Y/N?” Your driver speaks breaking your thoughts.
“Yeah sorry.” You walk towards the car ready to just go home and crawl into bed. Before you can open the door your phone vibrates, it’s Bella.
“Where are you?” Bella says as soon as you pick up.
“I’m getting in a Uber right now.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s over. I’m going home.” You hear heavy footsteps, looking back you see Bella running towards you phone up to her ear.
“Then I’m coming with you.” Bella says into the phone only a few feet away from you.
“Are you inviting yourself over?” You laugh.
“Oh fuck I didn’t mean to come off like that I just didn’t want to-“ Bella hangs up on you, now talking to you instead.
“Can’t believe you’d hang up on me.” You cut them off, laughing at the fact that the two of you were conversing over phone while stood so close.
“I feel like a real dick head. I tried so hard to get away from tonight’s responsibilities but they wouldn’t let me. You have no idea how badly I wanted to get away from it all and be with you tonight. I want to make it up to you.” Your cute moment gets interrupted by the Uber driver telling you he’s going to leave if you don’t get in already. When you go to open the door Bella assumes the worst.
“You coming?” You ask, returning the smile to Bella’s face as she climbs in with you. The drive to your place is filled with apologies and sneaking glances at each other. Bella doesn’t leave your apartment till the next morning, up till 4 am just talking. Feelings grow and laughter is shared. Bella is the one to kiss you before they leave making plans to meet again.
—
Bella moving in has been great. It’s only been a week but waking up and going to sleep next to the person you love every night is better than you could of possibly imagined.
You stream five days a week, leaving the weekend for yourself and Bella now. Originally your set up is in your bedroom, using your bed as your backdrop. Moving into the guest bedroom has been great. Creating a whole new look for your stream and having a lot more space. The other half of the room filled with Bella’s miscellaneous boxes.
Bella has yet to get used to your work schedule. Normally when they visited you’d take a break from streaming or do it while they were off working. Now that you live together, you had to work. So often Bella would interrupt unknowingly. Apologizing quietly as they walked back out of the room. Your chat taking quick notice of your smile and lovingly stare as you told Bella it’s okay, wondering who it could possibly be.
—
“Can you hear me?” Bella asks turning on her instagram live.
“Uhh yes it is I see your comments now.” Bella gets comfortable, reading comments out loud. Shouting out people as they asked.
“Ok the whole reason for this live. I just wanted to give some life updates. First I uhh moved to California.” She admits reading chat for a moment before responding.
bellaramzeee13: I thought you hated la
ramseyfantlou: NO Bella’s gonna change ):
thelastofbella: the uk will misss you
“I promise I’m not going to change. Some things just happened and I decide it’s best for me to live out here. Ya know? Closer to opportunities and other things… anyway thought I’d come on here and unpack with everyone.” Bella stands up from where they’re sat thinking your out for the day with your friends. Heading into your steaming room, switching the camera to the back camera ready to show the giant pile of boxes.
“This is where all my stuff is,” Bella is going on not realizing your sat in your desk live as well.
“What’re you doing?” You ask startling her so her phone lands on your just long enough for people to realize it’s you. Bella’s quick to stuff her phone in her pocket live still going.
“I’m sorry I thought you were with your friends already.” Bella’s panic has your worried.
“It’s okay that’s not till later. I’ll be right back guys.” You say to your chat switching to your I’ll be right back screen. You follow Bella out of the room into the living room.
“I was on instagram live.”
“Did you show me?” You ask.
“I dunno.” Bella pulls their phone out it now on the front facing camera, you laugh seeing your reflection on insgram live.
“Bella it’s too late your still live.” Your laughing harder than before. Bella’s worried faced fills the live and your laughter in the background.
bellsram01: YOUR DATING HER???!!
sarabeez: NO WAY
elliewilliams22627: wait why do I kinda ship it
justbellaaaaa: bella I think I actually want your girlfriend more
“Should I get off?” Bella asks you.
“If you don’t want to. It’s okay.” Bella sets their phone down using some clutter on the kitchen counter to created a diy tripod.
“Guess it’s out,” Bella laughs. You move into frame, leaning closer to read more comments. Laughing at all the funny ones, reading them out loud. Answering a few questions about your relationship.
“Well I got to go attend to my steam I was so rudely interrupted.” You sigh dramatically.
“If y’all want more of me I’m on twitch right now.” You smile for the camera.
“Are you trying to steal my viewers?” Bella looks at you shocked.
“Absolutely yes babe.” You tease, before planting a small kiss on their cheek before leaving bella alone in the kitchen. Bella reads more chat as everyone freaks the fuck out.
“I guess you all know the real reason why I moved to the states.”
#bella ramsey x reader#bella ramsey x you#bella ramsey edit#bella ramsey fluff#bella ramsey oneshot#bella ramsey#bella ramsey tlou#bella ramsey imagine
532 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dadnoir Musings: The Fanfic
Lord help me I’m back on my nonsense. Finally making this monstrosity public.
Word count: 6,930-ish
Summary: Fragments of Dusknoir’s interactions with and thoughts on Kip and Twig (especially Twig) throughout the events of the game, leading up into the start of The Present is a Gift.
It was meant to be simple. He would travel back through a passage of time alone, the sableye making the journey separately to spread rumors of a renowned explorer before he'd quietly enter the areas that were handfed awe-inspiring stories of his exploits. He'd do a number of good deeds along the way to validate the rumors, and in doing so he would gain the loyalty and aid of an entire population in tracking down the grovyle and human that had gotten dangerously close to securing another time gear before vanishing entirely after their retreat.
He had heard reports of the grovyle being sighted in this time period. It was good news, certainly, to have reliable sources verify one another— but he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling he had at the reports. They always identified the grovyle, but never the human. Easily the most stand-out member of the trio of rebels— even moreso than the Legend in their ranks— and suddenly the only one unaccounted for. He didn't know much about humans and how hardy they were, but the grovyle’s habit of whirling her out of reach of whatever strikes were sent her way implied a distinct fragility— perhaps she'd been disposed of in the window of time that they'd lost track of the rebels.
He hoped that was the case. Everything would be so much simpler if it was. Still, he instructed the scouts to search more diligently for the human. He wasn't foolish enough to hope for much of anything anymore, and the fact that he found himself clinging to the idea of not having to execute the human himself left him wary.
Something wasn't right.
He entered the lively settlement of Treasure Town with a sense of dread weighing heavy on his shoulders.
***
His cover story gave him a particular level of sway over the local exploration guild. Not only did they eat up every word he said with an unmatched trustingness, they provided access to their outlaw reports and records of suspicious activity. There he was— the troublesome grovyle was reported enough times to give an area he was likely frequenting, but not an indication of his next move or where he'd hide away after brushes with danger. Dusknoir needed to wait and gather more information. The grovyle was rash— it wouldn't be long before he showed his hand.
In the meantime, Dusknoir would continue building Treasure Town’s trust in him.
That didn't prove very difficult. The townsfolk were exceptionally welcoming. They bore no doubt in his cover story. The Guild’s recruits were almost sycophantic in their hero worship, as were their elite, save for a team of two— and even then, the team that seemed wary of him appeared more cautious out of nerves than actual suspicion.
They were a young pair of recruits— much younger than the rest of their peers. Where the other recruits seemed at least well on their way to entering adulthood, these two were evidently the youngest apprentices in guild history. Team Venture was composed of a timid but eager mudkip and an odd charmander who seemed completely flabbergasted by basic social customs.
Kip was endearing in his overzealous enthusiasm— his excitement whenever Dusknoir interacted with him and his partner was palpable, and he introduced himself by name almost immediately upon meeting him. Another indicator of the two’s youth, then— he was so young he didn't quite grasp the finer details of when and where you should give your name. One might find the misstep offensive, but Dusknoir was flattered by the boy considering him such a close friend.
The charmander didn't give him a name. In truth, she didn't give him much of anything— she hung back when Kip and Dusknoir spoke, never really saying anything, just watching him with a confused look like she was trying to remember something long lost to time. She was a studious character— Kip didn't attend many of the workshops the Guild put on, but Charmander arrived early to and left late from every last one.
“She wasn't the one to ask to form a team together— honestly, she kind of rejected the idea at first,” Kip admitted to him while waiting for his partner to return from one such event, “but I think that now she likes exploring even more than I do!”
“Funny how things play out like that,” he replied.
“She's amazing. I'm so lucky to have met her. She's my best friend.”
He watched as the mudkip fidgeted happily with his scarf, a slight blush on his face. Ah. Definitely a bit of lilipuppy love on his end. He couldn't help his chuckle. “And how did you two meet?”
“Oh— um. She was passed out on the beach one day, but I thought she was dead when I found her and I— uh— I screamed so loud she woke up,” he stammered. “It wasn't a very cool way to meet, but I'm glad I got to meet her at all.”
“I'm sure any would react as you did were they to stumble upon a possible corpse.” His brow furrowed. “Why was she passed out on the beach in the first place?”
“She doesn't know. She's got amnesia, if you haven't heard— she doesn't remember anything about herself before waking up on the beach. Well, anything but her name and how she used to be a human.”
“What?”
Kip startled at the sharpness of his tone. “She… she doesn't remember anything but her name, and how she used to be a human? Is everything okay, Dusknoir, sir?”
It couldn't be. This was a coincidence. He hoped desperately that it was a coincidence. If there was a human in the time he had traveled from, then there surely had to be humans in the time preceding it. This was another human, unrelated to the one that had evaded detection for the last year or so. It was a simple coincidence.
Kip watched him nervously.
“Apologies, I… I was simply caught off guard. Humans turning into pokemon is a concept that I thought was only the stuff of fairy tales. That combined with humans having been long extinct makes your story seem a bit peculiar.”
“Oh! Yeah, it does seem strange, doesn't it? I don't know if she's misremembering or not, but she's pretty intent on how she wasn't a charmander before waking up on the beach. She took a while to learn how to walk, though, and she doesn't know how to control fire like a normal charmander— so it makes me feel like she's telling the truth.”
Dusknoir hummed, lost in thought. Kip ran off to greet his partner when she exited the meeting hall for whatever seminar was put on that week, and she caught him in a hug and showed him a stack of notes she'd taken during the seminar. Kip stifled a laugh as he looked over the pages— Charmander demanded he tell her what was so funny, and he meekly explained that her spelling was even worse than her handwriting.
“Dude! Not cool! I didn't even know how to read any of this stuff last year. I'd like to see you write a paper in English after barely getting any time to learn it!”
They wandered off, chattering all the way, leaving Dusknoir to recall the mannerisms of the human who had all but dropped off the face of the planet and recognize their echoes in the child resting her hand over her friend’s shoulders as they walked to the guild dorms.
It was a coincidence. Simply that.
(The thought that the human he'd been trying to… dispatch for so many years was only as old as Charmander sat like a block of ice in his belly.)
***
He tried to get more information on this mysterious recruit, and his efforts to find any background beyond when she first arrived at the Guild yielded nothing. It was as if Charmander never existed before appearing on that beach— no records of her prior residence, birth, or heritage were to be found— no one had ever even known she existed before Kip brought her into town. He wondered if it was a conspiracy between them— that the girl was playing dumb and the boy was lying to cover up what he knew— but couldn't place any stock in the theory. Kip was as guileless as they come, and he had seen Charmander attempt to hide surprises from her partner— she was an atrocious liar. They were genuine in their cluelessness.
He learned more that personified the child than he would have liked while posing faux-idle questions to the townsfolk.
(“That lil’ charmander girl is the sweetest thing. She's got the etiquette sense of an overturned stump, make no mistake, but she means no harm by it, y’hear? Keeps coming by to my storehouse to hide presents for her friends— asked for a second lockbox and everything so her partner wouldn't know she was collecting up his favorite things to give him later on.” The woman laughed. “She loves playing with my little one, too— it's the funniest thing, seeing her try to play with her. It's like she thinks she's made of glass. I keep telling Charmander she can be a bit rougher, but she still treats the girl so gingerly!”)
(“Ah! Charmander, you say? Yes, yes, she's quite the character. Loves wordplay, that one. Sharp mind, if a little dense at times. Always asking about the finer points of merchantry. If she weren't already apprenticed at the Guild, we'd consider taking her on ourselves!” A pause as his brother interjected with his own comment. “Ah! I'd forgotten about that. She's made such a habit of paying for those two’s groceries. She's always so mischievous about it— almost treats it like a prank. Keep in mind she's never told those boys or their mother who keeps paying for their things, and she's sworn us to secrecy about it— you'll not tell a soul either, yes?”)
(“Charmander is… well, she's one of our most promising recruits, alongside her partner. I've had my misgivings— those two have shown their immaturity at the worst of times, to the point of near disaster, mind you! If it weren't for Team Skull, I shudder to think of what would have happened… But they've got good hearts. Charmander started out one of the worst-performing recruits in the Guild’s history, but she's made leaps and bounds of progress. It's easier to look past her age when you see the stacks of pages of notes and research she produces— though it's significantly harder when you see the severity of her spelling! She gave me a paper where she'd listed several questions about expedition protocol, once, and I was appalled by the sight!” A nervous flutter of wings. “Everything she writes is phonetic! Horrifically so! Her handwriting is no better. It's to the point I've debated calling on a tutor to stay at the Guild for a time to provide lessons. I shudder to think of a recruit ever rising to the point she and her partner have with such deplorable writing skills. Should I ever meet her parents, I have strong words to give on the importance of education!”)
It was a coincidence. It had to be. She was a former human who had arrived in town at the same time that the fugitive human had disappeared, but that wasn't enough to be incriminating. He didn't want to think about the alternative. In his questioning the townsfolk, all he learned was how utterly normal this child was— how she had the same quirks and charms as any youth would, despite her constant efforts to seem mature and keep up with her older peers.
She and her partner asked him if he, in all his travels, knew about the cause of her dizzy spells and visions. There it was— the Dimensional Scream, and another nail in Charmander’s coffin.
It had to be a coincidence. If it wasn't, then this child's blood would need to stain his hands if he wanted to continue on himself, and he was starting to doubt how much he wanted to live a life with that fact haunting him.
It would have been easier if it was just death he was facing. He could handle the thought of dying, grim as it was. But he faced no simple looming threat of death, but one of complete and utter erasure from existence— if the grovyle succeeded, it would be as if he never lived in the first place. The same fate would be dealt to Charmander. If the existential terror wasn't enough, Dialga’s visceral descriptions of what erasure felt like were unsettlingly vivid. Dusknoir would simply have to remind himself that an execution would be swifter, less painful— even, in a twisted way, more merciful than what Grovyle was so resolutely seeking.
She wouldn't suffer, and he wouldn't be stricken from all of time and space. It would be a twofold victory, grim as it was— if it ever came to that. He didn't even know if this was the exact same human who could discern Dimensional Screams. All signs pointed to her, but if he refrained from learning anything more, he could claim ignorance. He could leave her in this time and simply dispose of the grovyle, and she would remain as she was, blissfully unaware of her origins.
He just had to stop asking questions. That's all he had to do.
Charmander came up to him one day with a newfound hesitancy in her posture. “Hey, so— I really appreciate you telling me about the Scream a while back. And how you came to help me and Kip when the Manectric Tribe came along, and you scaring off Team Skull, and all that, too.”
“Think nothing of it.”
“I don't really get Pokemon stuff, but I know names are pretty important, like, as a trust thing.”
“That they are.” Don't. I don't want to hear—
“So I figured I could give you mine? As a symbol of, like, gratitude or whatever.”
“There’s no need.” Stop it. Stop it, stop it, stop it, don't tell me anything, I don't want to know—
“Nah, I don't mind.” She smiled widely, puffed out her chest, set her fists on her hips. “It's Twig! Nice to meet you, or whatever you're supposed to say when you… um…” Her prideful posture fell, giving way to concern. “What's with the face? Sorry if I messed that up, I don't really know how things are supposed to— I just thought…”
Of course. Of course he was wrong to hope. When was he ever right to cling to such things? It was her, and he'd known it all along, but he stubbornly refused to accept it.
“I'm sorry, man. You don't have to look so upset.”
“Whatever would give you that idea?”
“You're crossing your arms to hide the fact you're frowning.” She furrowed her brow. “I'm not stupid, Dusknoir.”
You are, though. You're so, so foolish, and you don't even realize it. I could have moved on from here without ever confirming who you were, and you ruined it.
“Apologies,” he murmured tersely. “I'm just a tad overcome. I need a moment.”
“Oh. Yeah, no worries.” She awkwardly reached out and patted the back of his hand as she passed. “I’m gonna go and… I dunno, do some sentry duty. Sorry again if I messed stuff up.”
You should be. You did. Legends and Life, you'll regret this even more than I do when the time comes.
***
It was rather jarring to see the same human that Grovyle had been so determined to keep out of harm’s way laid so low by his own hand. Dusknoir’s appearance at Crystal Cave sent the fugitive packing, and he was left to tend to an injured Team Venture.
Twig shoved his hands away as he assessed the damage. “Don't! Don't, I'm fine— Help Kip! He's— I don't know if he's going to…” Her voice broke, and his heart followed suit at the pitiful sound. “Please. You've got to help him.”
It took a moment to locate the mudkip in question— Twig had evidently been making efforts to lead the fight away from where he had collapsed behind a large stalagmite, unconscious.
He had seen injuries, he had seen gore— but he had never seen so much of them on such a small body.
Twig wasn't overreacting in her fear of whether or not her friend would survive their encounter with Grovyle.
He knew enough first-aid to ensure Kip didn't bleed out in the moment, but lacked the supplies necessary to do much else. Twig was bundling Kip up in her arms before he admitted as much to himself, starting the trek out of the mystery dungeon on shaking legs— and only managed several strides before falling to her knees with a pained groan. She didn't protest when he lifted her into his own arms and resumed the journey with more haste than she could muster in her state— only curled tightly around her partner, to the point that her tail brushed her jaw, promising over and over again that he would be okay.
***
Chimecho received the two recruits and administered the care that Dusknoir was unable to provide, ushering him out of the room so she would have room to work in the cramped Guild infirmary. Left in the silence of the main floor alongside the unsettled guild members who had gathered together when they learned of Team Venture’s state, he found himself standing before the infirmary door, numb. Slowly, the guild members dispersed, the quiet tension in the air left unbroken as they awaited news of their friends’ fates. Chatot remained, noisy in his silence as he alternated between pacing and leafing through paperwork that he never gave more than a few moments of attention at a time. Dusknoir eventually had the sense to seat himself a ways away from the infirmary door and began sifting through the events of the last few hours.
He hadn't pursued Grovyle. He had the opportunity to corner the fugitive— there were a number of dead ends in Crystal Cave, any of which he could have driven him into and had the upper hand in a confrontation where he might capture him— and he didn't take it. He squandered the perfect chance to finally do away with the greatest thorn in his side in favor of assisting another of the trio he'd been tasked with dispatching. He could only hope that Dialga didn't learn of his misstep— there would be hell to pay if he did.
He was pulled from his thoughts by Chatot’s startled squawk as he shot over to the infirmary door when Twig stepped onto the threshold, though not fully through, heavily bandaged and with a pronounced limp. “What are you doing up and about?! You need to remain in the infirmary until you've been given a clean bill of health! I won't have you running about jeopardizing yourself— think of— think of what horrors that would do for the Guild’s image! Get back in there immediately!”
Twig gave him a weary glare. “I'm not going to sit around and watch while Chimecho stitches Kip back into one piece. Move over, man.”
Chatot opened his beak to protest once more, but froze upon glancing over Twig's shoulder— catching an eyeful of Kip’s injuries, judging by the way his feathers flattened against his body in fear. “A-Alright, just this once, then. But sit down! You look faint. I don't want to have you falling and giving yourself a concussion on top of all this!”
“Pretty sure I already have a concussion, Chatot. I also can't sit down unless you let me through the doorway.”
Chatot complied, fretting over her until she laid down on the floor and set her legs up against the wall to combat her supposed faintness that Chatot was so worried about. “Dusknoir, I'm dreadfully sorry, but please keep watch over this recruit for a moment. Chimecho will no doubt need more material for sutures shortly— I must seek supplies in town.” He didn't wait for a response, simply shot up the ladder leading out of the guild in a flurry of wings and panic, leaving Dusknoir and Twig in an vacant chamber.
She closed her eyes, falling so still that she seemed to be asleep. Recalling her mentioning a concussion, he reached over to rouse her— but her sudden words made him freeze with his hand outstretched.
“Chimecho doesn't know if he's gonna make it.”
He couldn't muster a response to that.
“You’ve— you've been around, you know lots of stuff. You've probably seen injuries way worse than those. Kip’s— he's gonna be okay, right?” He watched as she opened her eyes, fixing him with a teary stare as she waited for an answer. “... Right?”
He couldn't look at her. “His injuries are severe,” he finally murmured.
She turned to stare at the ceiling. He did his best to ignore the way her breaths stuttered and hitched, turning into quiet hiccups and whines as she rolled over and shifted to press her back against the wall and cry into her knees. Distantly, he wondered how she managed to cry so quietly, even when every whisper of a sob shook her entire frame with its intensity. He intently avoided pondering what had motivated her to develop such a skill.
It wasn't easy to ignore an injured, distraught child weeping only an arms-length away from him. He found himself unwillingly reminded of the sableye when he first took them in— Twig's situation was different, but the end result was almost the same— a child left adrift and frightened in the face of tragedy. Where the sableye had each other, though, Twig was left to weep without five siblings to answer the slightest whimper with unflinching support. Her partner— her only true friend amongst the Guild, from the sound of things— was on death's door, unable to come to her aid and offer the same words of comfort she had repeated to him as Dusknoir brought the two back to the Guild.
Despite himself, he reached out and set his hand over her back. She stiffened under his palm, and he nearly pulled away, but she caught hold of his thumb on her shoulder and held his hand in place. Her tears continued. He didn't say anything when she curled up tighter and her sobs picked up in volume, too startled by the memory of one of the recruits describing something to him.
(“Twig really doesn't like being touched. Not most times, at least! One time I patted her on the back because she beat my best sentry duty record, and she whirled around and almost took off one of my petals! Like, oh my gosh, I totally freaked! Kip said that she barely lets anyone touch her— you've got to be a real close buddy for her to be okay with it, or else it really freaks her out— but I didn't think it was that bad! Eek!”)
He kept his gaze fixed on the opposite wall and tried not to think about how she felt bonier under his hand than one so young had any right to be.
***
Kip survived, adorned with a number of scars that would remain for all his remaining days as a mudkip. Twig was glued to his side during the days in which he was allowed to exit the infirmary and rest in the dorms, and she became his crutch whenever he struggled to walk about the Guild to build his strength back up after so long being bedridden. The other recruits flocked around the two and made their concern known, offering to help with anything they needed as they recovered.
Kip asked for help checking a particular book out of the Guild library and sending word to Chimecho that the numbing agent was working a bit too well, and that he couldn't feel the fin on his head whatsoever. Twig didn't ask for anything— suddenly every bit as stoney, stern, and stoic as Grovyle had appeared in confrontations once they were separated— and said little over the following days. When one recruit waddled up to her after a workshop with carefully written notes and an apology for how he couldn't write as many pages as she always did on account of how fast the lecturer spoke and how slow his paws were, though, she pulled him into a hug that he meekly returned.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you—”
“Aw, shucks, it's really nothing! Don't mind it at all. I know how much you love those workshops. Me, though, I was lost as soon as the lecturer flipped the first page on her big ol’ chart thingy! You mind explaining how traps form in a mystery dungeon? She kept saying that it was important to know for this workshop, but I didn't go during the one where it was taught.”
She launched into a lecture of her own, more animated than he had seen her since her encounter with Grovyle, and Dusknoir was tempted to applaud the young man for so cleverly distracting her from her wounds.
***
With a trap laid for Grovyle, Dusknoir watched for the right moment to spring it. It didn't take long— the fugitive was gullible and impatient, a dangerous combination of traits that ensured Dusknoir wasn't left waiting for long.
Grovyle was secured— albeit perhaps roughed up a tad more than was totally necessary to capture him— and that meant he had to resolve the other loose end before he departed for his home era.
He called Team Venture forward, out from the back of the crowd where they always lingered. He only had to bring Twig closer, but to summon her alone would raise suspicions at this most critical of moments. She was slow to come up to the front of the crowd and made her way there leaning heavily on her partner when she finally appeared. Evidently, her refusal to rest and recover from her injuries had backfired, leaving her in a worse state than Kip was despite her having the lesser wounds at the beginning.
He only needed her. He could leave Kip behind and have a single child’s death weighing on him for eternity instead of two, if only they would stop clinging to each other for one measly second. He gave a speech describing his gratitude, waiting for the moment when she would shift her weight off of his side and onto her own two feet so he could grab her and be off— and there it was. He seized her in a hand and shot back into the passage of time, realizing too late that Kip was dragged along by her fistful of his scarf.
Great. Of course.
He caught hold of the boy when Twig’s own grip came loose and cursed whatever Legends were watching and no doubt laughing at his luck.
***
He really should have expected Grovyle would have another trick lying in wait before the execution. He'd hoped that Kip and Twig at least would remain unconscious for the act, but Grovyle's hissing and spitting curses his way roused them, and they were pulled along with his escape plan as a result. Dusknoir was going to kill him personally if things continued to sour thanks to him. When they had the three cornered— along with Celebi, even— he found himself possessed by the urge to twist the knife.
It was cruel to reveal Twig’s identity to Grovyle in order to stamp out any bit of resistance in him, but Dusknoir would be lying if he said it didn't give him some awful sense of catharsis to see the horrified guilt in his face— he finally realized just what he'd done by beating a child unconscious and nearly doing the same to a second one in Crystal Cave, and Dusknoir took a certain glee in his regret. Twig’s look of disgust at the reveal only drove the knife deeper. Good. He deserves it. He put out a hand and sent a shadow snaking along the ground, ready to take the wretch out—
— and Twig tackled Grovyle out of the way of the attack, putting herself in the range of the strike. He fumbled, dampening the worst of the blow before it hit her, but she still let out a sharp cry in response. Legends and Life, he would rather put the two youths out of their misery with something quick, but that was made difficult by their insistence to throw themselves in harm's way as living shields for the one target he wanted to suffer.
Fine, then. He reached out to snatch Kip up and snap his neck, but Twig surged into Dusknoir with such force she managed to throw him against a tree and lit a barrier of flame between them and her allies.
She kicked off of him, further dizzying him thanks to her using his eye as her chosen springboard, and landed ready to dash back to her group— but stopped short when she saw the long wall of fire between them.
(He'd never seen her use any sort of attack before that incorporated the flames she could manifest as a charmander— only ever using her fists, teeth, and even fallen branches to strike— and he suddenly recalled how he could count the hours at the Guild by how many times she'd let out a startled yelp when she'd see her own tail. Back then, he thought she'd simply never grown accustomed to an extra limb. It was with a bitter, weary laugh now that he realized she was afraid of fire.)
He reached out, hand outstretched to take her by the throat.
Kip sprang up from the ground that he had tunneled into and headbutted him hard, whirling around to douse the flames and shove his partner forward. “Come on, come on, we've got to get out of—!”
Grovyle snatched the girl up as he sprang for the passage of time, not even sparing her partner a second glance as he leveled Dusknoir with a deadly glare when he passed. Kip was only pulled along by Twig grabbing his scarf and pulling him into her arms as they darted into the passage of time, Celebi swiftly shuttering it and vanishing in a shimmer of air.
Lovely.
***
Grovyle hadn't told Twig what would happen to her if their efforts to restore Temporal Tower succeeded. Of all the things he'd done, this one failure to act was his most repulsive misdeed by far.
She was baffled by Dusknoir's question of whether she truly didn't fear erasure, looking to Grovyle for answers. He stuttered and stammered, resisting her request for the truth at first, and Dusknoir, for all his willingness to see his instructions to kill these two as just business a few seconds ago, concluded that it would be a lovely vacation to throttle Grovyle in particular.
One last attempt to dispatch Twig as kindly as he could was once again foiled— Grovyle passed on the burden of his mission to a child who just learned she was giving up her entire existence to change a future that was uncertain— and he forced Dusknoir into the passage of time.
***
Erasure was less painful than he expected. It was less like being ripped apart by every second he had lived and more like his very soul was slowly being brushed away, like he was falling asleep. Twig had gone through with her part, then. He hoped the event of her disappearance wasn't too frightening for her or Kip.
Dusknoir could feel himself slipping. He could barely summon the words as he asked, “Grovyle… My life… did it shine?”
Grovyle must have been just as exhausted as Dusknoir, but he smiled despite it. His hand shook as he reached out to grip his arm. His voice trembled with effort as he fought to speak. “Extraordinarily.”
It was a pitiful scrap of comfort— meaningless, really. But that simple response, combined with the sun rising behind the collapsed forms of his unlikely allies moved him to tears.
Okay. If this was how he was struck from all of time and space, it was okay. He would be able to accept it.
As dawn broke for the first time in decades gone uncounted, Dusknoir stopped clinging to the world about him, and let himself drift away completely.
***
To return to existence was unexpected. To be given a second chance at life by Dialga himself was even more unexpected. But perhaps most unexpected of all was how much he hated this bright future’s refusal to admit all of the terrors that had taken place on its soil.
Grovyle and Celebi felt similarly. The decision to immigrate to the Present was unanimous, heightened by Grovyle's late realization that if they'd been restored, Twig likely was as well— Celebi couldn't open a passage of time fast enough for his liking once the idea hit him, and he bolted through it the moment it was vaguely safe to traverse.
“… He's certainly eager to move in.”
“Dusknoir, dear, you know full well he's not leaping at the opportunity to pick out wallpaper.” She turned to the passage, face pensive. “It's been so long since I've seen them in this timeline… I'm almost afraid. How do I look? Are my antennae straight? Are my wings as dazzling as ever?”
He gave her a flat stare.
“You have no appreciation for beauty! Hmph!” She feigned anger for only a moment before glancing back at him, worried. “If you'd like a moment, Dusknoir, you can wait here and prepare yourself. I know you didn't part on the best of terms with our two little explorers.”
“I doubt they're very little anymore.”
“You're right! Oh my goodness, they must be full-grown by now… I'm going through, dear, but you come on out only when you're ready.”
He waited for a feeling of readiness to overtake him.
It never did.
All he could do was take a breath and enter the passage.
He was greeted by sunlight, dappled shadows, treetop canopies rustling overhead, and Twig's startled command for Kip to get behind her.
She was barely any taller, covered in scars he didn't remember her wearing when they last parted ways, and she had her fists balled up in front of her and ready to lash out the second he approached. Grovyle stepped forward and tried to explain, and her look of frightened fury gave way to confusion, then frustration.
“There's— No way. There's no way he did any of that. He's just trying to get our guards down again.” She cast a vicious glare his way. “What, was Primal Dialga a cover? Were you really working with Darkrai all along? Too bad, we beat your real boss months ago! Get out of here before I—”
Kip stepped forward, brushing aside his partner's threats with a smile. His words were sincere and simple. “I knew you were too nice to be faking it. All the times in Treasure Town, Amp Plains, Crystal Cave— I told you, Twig. C’mon, you owe me five-hundred poké!”
She sputtered for a moment as he simply held out a paw expectantly. She reached into her bag and begrudgingly slid a large coin into his waiting palm. He gave her a smug smile as Dusknoir looked between them.
“Do you two often bet on the intentions of those you meet?” He asked, unsettled by the well-practiced exchange.
“It’s a joke. Mostly. And we don't do it too much,” Kip answered.
He was scared to hear the answer he was certain he already knew. “And what started this routine between you?”
To his surprise, they didn't respond by pointing to him. Twig crossed her arms and murmured, surprisingly hesitant, “We got… um. Don't know if there's a specific word for it in Pokéspeak, but we thought we were talking to Cresselia, and it turned out it was very much not Cresselia that we were talking to. We started up the joke to deal with that.”
“A Cresselia that wasn't Cresselia— who would impersonate a Legend?”
Twig gave him a once-over, her suspiciousness giving way to exhaustion. “You know that Darkrai dude I mentioned a bit ago?”
The explanation that followed wasn't as horrifying as the manner in which it was told. Kip admitted his fears as he explained their subsequent clash with a Legend who masterminded Dialga's decay, but Twig dismissed hers. The blatant attempt to put on a brave face and minimize her own anxieties— anxieties which still clearly affected her, judging by the way she avoided eye contact and her tail’s flame fizzled and hissed while burning an anxious magenta— brought to mind a memory he'd almost forgotten.
(A bloody child shakily shoving helping hands aside, sobbing for him to ignore her wounds and tend to her partner. A refusal of aid in favor of assisting another.)
His hands curled into fists, and he looked away. Twig tensed and took a half-step closer to Kip, and the sight killed him.
***
Kip offered their motley trio a place in his and Twig's home as they searched for more permanent lodgings. They accepted, much to Twig's poorly hidden chagrin.
Everyone else had retired for the night— curled up in makeshift beds pulled haphazardly together out of blankets and pitiful amounts of straw insufficient for any real mattress. Grovyle snored loudly, sleeping deeply for perhaps the first time Dusknoir had ever been around to see, and Celebi had tucked herself tidily into her bed, breaths whistling lightly as she rested. Kip was doing the same a short distance away. Twig, meanwhile, sat at a table across the room, pretending to look over papers she must have read ten times each by now, glaring up at him every time she leafed through the stack anew.
The implication that she didn't trust him around her unconscious friends and had taken up watch to protect them wasn't lost on him.
She did this for multiple nights. She'd reached the point that she was nodding off in the daytime, exhausted by her nightly vigils, but she still kept them up. He had attempted to fake sleeping earlier in the night so she'd allow herself rest, but she remained awake even then— and so he swiftly gave up the ruse in favor of his typical pattern of sleep. Each evening, she'd take up her post at the table and start skimming papers with feigned interest, keeping an eye on his every move and tensing whenever he so much as twitched.
He deserved each terrified glower she gave him. His knowledge of his guilt didn't make it any easier to see one so young carrying the world on her shoulders.
She was grown now— likely nearing an evolution, if the reddish scales now dotting her skin meant anything— but she still had the eyes of a haunted child when the nights were long and her watch over her friends wore on her.
She finally slipped up one evening, her head settled on folded arms over the table’s surface, eyelids drifting closed until her breathing finally evened out and she fell asleep. He sighed with relief, but the reassurance that she'd finally get some rest was short-lived.
She flinched in her sleep, murmuring fearfully, fingers twitching against the tabletop she'd slumped over.
Uncertain of what to do, but called to help all the same, he rose and pulled a blanket from the meager sheets comprising her empty bed. She relaxed when he draped it over her, her hands no longer balling into fists and her tail’s flame glowing a warm, peaceful white instead of flickering between aggressive violets and panicked magentas.
She looked smaller as she slept— as if in her slumber she forgot to puff herself up and pretend she was self-assured and confident. She looked like a recruit too young to keep up with her older peers and too naive to understand the danger she threw herself readily into.
She looked like a child.
She looked like a child, but she'd never had the chance to truly be one. Between running for her life in the Dark Future, to taking on a schooling far too intensive for those her age, to waging battles with Legends and shouldering whatever trauma she'd garnered from all of it— she'd never been allowed such an opportunity.
(He was part of that. He was part of the reasons she'd never been able to grow up as a child should. He'd been part of the wretched selection of foes who robbed her of her youth.)
Dusknoir tugged the blanket higher around the girl's shoulders. She sighed a cozy, content sound, and he left for a late night walk.
He didn't mention the blanket come morning. She left it unspoken as well.
(She took a glance at her post the next evening and turned away, electing to sprawl out in her bed and snore almost loud enough to put Grovyle to shame.)
(It was a simple thing. Meaningless, really, and no great signifier of any faith that had been rebuilt. But it moved him near to tears regardless as she dropped off to sleep before any of the rest of them. She trusted them all to keep her safe and be safe in turn— and he was encircled in that trust.)
(It wasn't the unwavering faith of a child, but it was something, and it was something that meant the world.)
#*slaps this onto your dash* YOUR PROBLEM NOW. I’M FREE FROM THE CURSE#y’all be gentle w/ me I wrote this largely in one feverish insomnia-riddled night#the lack of text centering on Tumblr kills me. I wanna make the section dividers pretty but I can’t 😞#stuff by sofie#pmd2#pmd eos#pmd explorers#pmd sky#pmd#pokémon mystery dungeon#the present is a gift au#pokemon mystery dungeon#pmd au#pmd fanfic#pmd fanfiction#pmd dusknoir#dadnoir#pmd grovyle#pmd2 partner#pmd celebi#pmd chatot#pmd fic#pmd hero
74 notes
·
View notes
Text
bloom
five
Meet Corroded Coffin, The Up And Coming band of today!
Corroded Coffin was discovered by rock legend, Ozzy Osborne. He saw the band preform and instantly thought of his own band, Black Sabbath and just had to sign them.
“They reminded me so much of us,” Says Osborne. “I just had to get them in the studio immediately!”
Corroded Coffin started off as just four boys with a dream. The band formed when lead singer and guitarist, Eddie Munson met his best friend, Gareth playing his drums in his parents garage.
The two instantly looked for more outcast, such as themselves, to form a band! That’s when they met Jeff, who plays guitar, and Doug who plays bass. Corroded Coffin soon being born.
The group later got gigs in their small town in Indiana at the hideout. From then they’ve continued to jam out and only hoped their dreams of making it big became a reality.
As the years went by they got more and more love from people all over the world, including love from the band Metallica.
The metal group saw them jamming out on Instagram live and immediately shouted the band out! From then on they received more and more gigs from all around the world until soon being discovered.
“It was so fucking insane!” Doug points out. “To be notice by some of our favorite artists, it’s still surreal.”
“We have over ten million followers on our official site. When we opened Instagram the night we got verified it felt fucking sick!” Gareth states.
But the band isn’t the only dreams they have! Obviously being a big as they’ve gotten over night, a lot of their fans are curious about their personal lives.
They didn’t give too much detail, wanting to keep some things to themselves, but lead singer, Eddie Munson had spilled a little about his life outside of being a rockstar!
“This has been my dream for a while. Finally being noticed, having more and more gigs, traveling around the world, releasing an album, and eventually getting my family the fuck outta Hawkins.”
“Your uncle, right?”
Eddie laughs before shaking his head. “Naw, that old geysers gonna die in that town. Trust me, I’ve been trying to convince him to leave Hawkins for years. He loves it there.” Eddie states.
“Oh? Does that mean you’re not a bachelor, Munson?”
“Naw, man! Left that behind me years ago.”
“You just broke a million girls hearts.”
Eddie laughs and shakes his head. He seemed amused that people didn’t know he had a family.
“I got a whole football team of kids, man! Six beautiful ones. One boy and five girls! I’m currently engaged to the woman I’ve known almost my whole life! She’s my whole world.” Eddie points.
The man goes to state his love for his family before slowing drifting the conversation back to his music.
“They all encourage me with my music! A lot of the songs I’ve written just myself are about them! That’s what the band and I try to do when it comes to our own sound! We use our own voices, our own experiences, our own heartbreaks, and love stories and put them into words. We share them with one another and whichever ones we like, we record the sound!”
“Exactly! A lot of bands don’t have that. I think when it comes to it, having your own individual interests is important! It’s what makes us stand out a bit.” Jeff states.
“We obviously write a few songs together, maybe even change a lyric or two in each others individual work, but ultimately, we try to make sure our music reflects who we are, not just together, but individually.” Gareth finished.
There you have it folks, Corroded Coffins gonna take over the world soon. There next single, Lullaby comes out next friday. Check it out!
#jqhotchner#eddie munson x reader#jqhotchner masterlist#eddie munson x black!reader#eddie stranger things#dad!eddie munson x reader#rockstar eddie munson#modern eddie munson#eddie munson#bloom jqhotchner#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem reader#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x yn#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fake texts#fiancé eddie munson
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
They had traveled all this way to find the Sorceress Cia already dead, her minion Wizzro nothing more than a crumpled robe, the Dragon Knight Volga gone, presumably back to his caverns, and Cia's infamous Blue Knight missing.
As was Nabooru's strange Hylian friend Link and his island friend, who was also named Link of all things. If Ganondorf hadn't already wanted to verify that Cia was dead himself, this entire trip would have been a waste. Princess Zelda assured him via a messenger that the Sheikah had examined Cia's corpse and not even the time sorceress could live without her head.
Ganondorf was tempted to seek word about the two missing Hylian children, but the less information Princess Zelda received, the better. He also didn't want to explain how Nabooru was friends with the strange, feral Hylian child. He himself didn't know for sure.
"They are looking for the Blue Knight and Volga now," Nabooru told Ganondorf, riding beside him. They had no good excuse to stay with proof of Cia's death. It was a pity. Ganondorf had been rousing his army to finally kill the mad sorceress. No one yet knew who had struck the fatal blow. "We sent out spies. There's a chance one of them knows about Link's whereabouts."
Ganondorf grunted and nodded. He held his tongue about his own suspicions of Link's whereabouts. Considering the rumors of Cia's proclivities, Link would be lucky to be found dead in a ditch. It was a shame, he admitted, if only to himself. That snarky, wild child had been quite entertaining for a Hylian.
By the pinched look on Nabooru's face, she was probably thinking the same. Cia's determination to kidnap the two Hylian children was disturbing. There were rumors she had kidnapped others in the past. Perhaps that was what had finally pushed someone to the brink and led to her death.
Ganondorf offered a silent prayer to the Desert Goddess for the child to be at peace. At least Cia could do no more harm, even if he still wished his blade had been the one to kill her. Perhaps he could have laid claim to her territory then, as well. It was tempting to fight Princess Zelda for it.
Before he could discuss that thought with Nabooru, Aveil trotted up to them on her own horse. "My lord," she greeted, "my lady. Link and two others have been spotted by the river. The third person is unknown, but the second looks like the missing island child."
Nabooru lit up. "He's alive then?"
Aveil nodded. "It appears so. Both children appear unharmed."
"And the third person?" Ganondorf interrupted before Nabooru could become distracted. Link, even when he wasn't present, was always distracting.
"Wearing a cloak, my lord. We can't make out his identity. He appears injured."
Ganondorf nodded and held up his fist. All of his Gerudo paused and waited on his command. "Dismount. We will approach on foot. Do they have horses?"
"No, my lord."
"Then they can't outrun us." He dismounted and looked at Nabooru. "It seems your Hylian's good luck remains true."
Nabooru nodded, but he didn't mistake the shine in her eyes. She almost managed to look calm. Ganondorf knew better. "I wouldn't be surprised if he killed Cia himself."
Ganondorf wouldn't be that surprised, either, but he didn't say it. He turned to Aveil. "Lead the way."
The river cut through Hyrule Field and led to Zora's Domain. Beyond the river, the desert began to take over, leading to the home of the Gerudo. It was in the opposite direction of both Hyrule Castle and Cia's Temple. What were they doing this way? Perhaps Link was trying to make his way to the safety of the Gerudo. If that was the case and Link chose them over the Hylians, then it was only to Link's credit.
Voices carried as they moved closer to the river, but the rush of the water drowned out the words. Ganondorf led the way, keeping his hand close to his blade. They had no idea who the third party was or what role the person played.
At least, Ganondorf didn't have an idea until they crouched by a grove near the river and observed the trio. He recognized Link instantly. He was taller than he remembered, but he recognized the masks hanging at his hip and his messy golden hair. Both he and the island child were talking to the third individual, standing over them as the cloaked figure sat by the riverbank.
The cloak was made of fine material, obvious even from a distance. A hood covered the person's head, but Ganondorf didn't need to see the person's face. The Blue Knight's signature scarf was visible, as was the blade and fire rod at his hip. Rumors of those weapons had carried far and wide, as had the Blue Knight's destructive power with them. It was said that the Sorceress Cia barely needed an army with the Blue Knight and the Dragon Knight Volga at her beck and call.
"Goddess," Nabooru breathed.
All three heads snapped their way. Ganondorf forgot how good Hylian hearing was. The Blue Knight was instantly on his feet, fire rod blazing in his hand. To Ganondorf's surprise, he shoved the two boys behind him.
Ganondorf was King of the Gerudo for more than just being the only man born in this century. If he was foolish or weak, the Gerudo would have made him a symbol and nothing more. Ganondorf was clever, and he knew he was clever, but as the rumors of Cia's habits came to his mind, Ganondorf wished he wasn't. He thought he had an idea of who had killed Cia, after all.
He stepped away from the bushes and raised his hands. Other, more useful ideas percolated in his head. "Link," he called, not taking his eyes off the fire rod, "please tell your friend that we mean you no harm."
From behind the Blue Knight, Link visibly rolled his eyes. The little brat. "Which Link?" he called. To Ganondorf's surprise, he gestured at all three of them, including the Blue Knight. "We're all named Link here."
The Blue Knight shifted and hissed something at Link. As he did so, his hood fell off.
If Link was several years older, he might look like the cloaked Hylian. He was fair-skinned with pale golden hair and an attractive enough face for a Hylian. One of his pointed Hylian ears had the tip cut off. From the look of it, it was a recent wound. Ganondorf saw more blood spotting his cloak. Ganondorf also guessed the Hylian to be around 19, 20 at the very most. He kept his expression even despite the urge to grimace. Rumors of Cia and her Blue Knight had circulated for years.
Yes. He now had a very good idea of who had killed Cia.
"Stay back," the Blue Knight warned. Hylians were pale, but there was a distinct blanched quality to his skin. It seemed that Cia hadn't died without a fight.
Link tugged on the Blue Knight's scarf even as the island child tucked himself against the Hylian's other side. Ganondorf thought it was to help the Hylian stay on his feet. "They're friends. I told you that you could trust them." He pointed behind Ganondorf. "That's Nabooru. The guy with her is Ganondorf."
It seemed like Link hadn't changed in the time he had been missing. 'Guy with her,' indeed.
The Blue Knight flinched. If Ganondorf wasn't imagining it, he was beginning to sway. "King Ganondorf, you mean."
Ganondorf nodded and stepped forward. "I assume that Link was leading you to us for sanctuary. He is correct. He is friend to the Gerudo."
"And us?" the island boy challenged. He narrowed his eyes. Ganondorf assumed he was trying to look fierce. Perhaps he could be. The blade on his hip was certainly no toy, and Link had proven that Hylian children were not to be underestimated.
"And you," Ganondorf agreed. He studied the Blue Knight's face. His eyes were beginning to look glazed. He bit his bottom lip and looked even younger. "Both of you, as long as you don't prove yourself enemies."
The Blue Knight huffed at him, and he looked as intimidating as the two children with him despite his reputation. The fire rod sputtered in his hand. The Blue Knight began to blink rapidly, and Ganondorf wasn't surprised when he fire went out. Link and the island child shouted when the Blue Knight collapsed.
Nabooru rushed past Ganondorf to the three. Ganondorf took his time walking to them, even as he waved at their healer to tend to the Blue Knight.
It would seem like this trip wasn't a waste of time after all.
#lu warriors#tl scribbles#lu mask#lu tune#hw link#ganondorf#poor papa ganondorf#Nabooru#I have no idea where this came from#i'm sorry#it just kept going#tw: Cia#loz au#hw au
17 notes
·
View notes
Photo
National Treasure instagram: Knitting
Fandom: BBC’s Merlin (post-canon, modern magic) AU
AU: National Treasure
Series: National Treasure instagram
Even the Once and Future Kings can be talked into knitting.
———————————————————————————————
With winter looming on England, the Pendragonling needs warm clothes to survive the cold, or so dragonlord Merlin decrees. Through his social, then, he searches for some knitter to travel to New Camelot and knit little Aithusa some wool coats. The challenge is picked up and the willing hero also manages to convince Arthur to give knitting a try.
Aithusa is definitely excited to see her dragon papa personally work to make her something.
More about the AU under the cut.
(More fanworks from this AU at the links above)
———————————————————————————————
About the AU
It's the 21th century and the existence of magic has been widely known since Guinevere, the last queen of Camelot, lifted the ban and had made Merlin her own advisor. With the centuries the myth of the Once and Future King has grown unchecked: Arthur Pendragon belongs to the category of the great people of history who the most have influenced the world, with the only difference that he will one day return.
Magic, for a number of circumstances never verified (possibly a mix of abuse and industrialization), seems like having been drained, leaving only the passive one: charms applied to old houses or objects still works, but new charms cannot be cast and are ineffective. Immortality is a rare gift unavailable to most, but few people belonging to the world Before The Drain still live, the oldest of them born in the Late Renaissance age.
Merlin, former wizard and oldest man of the world as the only one alive since the Middle Ages, is considered the world's grumpy uncle, that one parent who is a font of knowledge and tells funny stories about an otherwise serious topic like History but isn't willing to sit down and socialize with the youngsters (which means basically anyone, to him). Told to be always traveling, he imparts his knowledge almost exclusively through his blog, "Merlin's Cave". Unknown to all, though, Merlin has also a second identity under which he lives an almost ordinary life: Gaius de Bois, young professor of Medieval History at the University of Avalon, down-to-heart person, a professor much loved by his students, and, especially "nephew" of the Great Merlin.
Arthur Pendragon emerges from the secluded Lake of Avalon and his return is made official by Merlin with a post on his Instagram, a photo about the two halves of a broken coin (with Merlin's and Arthur's profile) reunited. Arthur leads a quiet life, residing in Merlin's cottage on the shores of the lake, with his grumpy (not-so) former servant to protect him from meddlers and fanatics. To preserve and allocate the necessary resources to restore a conducive environment for him and his needs of Middle Ages man, he is given the title of National Treasure that grants him a monthly revenue, total coverage of expenditures and funds to restore the castle of Camelot – castle that Merlin has preserved by magically miniaturizing it and placing it in a snow-less globe.
Merlin, through his social media and website, shares with the world the chronicles of how his king is adjusting to the modern times.
Arthur is initially followed by paps and generally by the curiosity of the people: it's just Merlin's angry presence (and an endless stream of ordinances) that shelters Arthur from the frenzy although soon it becomes an ordinary sight to see the king going around wearing his armor and sunglasses. When Camelot is restored, it gets the status of Principality within the United Kingdom, a kind of enclave named New Camelot on which Arthur is granted absolute power: initially a city-state enclosed within the strong walls of the citadel, it grows when further lands and pastures are assigned to the principality to assure Camelot's self-sufficiency. Life in New Camelot, per Arthur's choice, doesn't reflect the innovations happened after the king's death, and the citadel will become a haven for people who wish to live a simpler life or simply unplug a bit from the modern times.
With time Arthur will fully embrace the perks of modernity, thanks to Merlin (and his money) who spoils him, and he'll even get a driving license (against Merlin's will). But that's another story for another time.
———————————————————————————————
Notes
This manip was prompted by the picture released by Synnov Karlsen on her Instagram Story when they were in Italy to shoot I Medici back in 2018. A couple of days later, the manip was done.
There was some text on the fake Instagram post that wasn't completed but the reason I was stuck was because I couldn't decide which version I liked the best between two backgrounds and few different effects/filters applied.
Released as per my goal to clear out my "held back" shit.
I wanted to hold this back further but figured I should post it while it's still winter, given the winter subject.
———————————————————————————————
Tec stuffs (aka Behind The Manip)
I recall not being completely satisfied with Aithusa but 1) there's literally two Aithusa pics, so a Merlin manipper must do with what little they've been given and 2) I still haven't learned to apply shadows.
Credits
Bradley James in italy from Synnov Karlsen's Instagram Story, 30 October 2018.
Il Vittoriale degli Italiani, Stanza del Mappamondo. Picture available at different sites.
———————————————————————————————
Crossposted
Livejournal: prue84.livejournal.com/95609.html
Dreamwidth: prue84.dreamwidth.org/87048.html
Deviantart: deviantart.com/prue84/art/Knitting-instagram-949286264 (instagram post), deviantart.com/prue84/art/Knitting-photo-949286302 (photo)
#Merlin BBC#Merlin#Arthur Pendragon#Aithusa#Merthur#AUs (Merlin)#AU: National Treasure#Series: National Treasure instagram#Manips#Graphics#||#bbc merlin#emrys#merlin-art#merlin fanart
192 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ridtom OC Story Snippet #1
The Nightfolk
Summary: One hundred years ago, humanity broke the veil between Magic and Reality, ushering in a downpour of black rain and sickly-green skies as the Night Folk descended upon the land. Pockets of the original magical world exist as bastions of sanity in Warded Kingdoms, with the rest of the world trapped within the cold Night Tide. The young wizard prodigy Seraphina is given the ominous task of recruiting an infamous Night Tide shape-changer known only as Mulch to help solve a string of grisly murders within her home. But Mulch has left the Night Tide for a reason and secrets between the two magic users could spell their doom.
Excerpt:
If I had known ahead of time, I would have refused my master’s request.
“Oh wind of passage, let us down. Brush against us with your comforting embrace. Ruffle us no longer and let us be on our way.”
She felt her power flow through the wind, following her words, gently lowering the altitude they were flying at by several hundred feet. Wind - or Air depending on the Mage - was one of the trickier elements, and needed very specific words to guide the actions.
A sign of her ascendency to High Mage and tutelage under the Lord’s High Mage, she bore her elemental control with pride as the wind gently placed them along the ground, breezing past them with parting brushes.
In any other scenario, she would have preened at the chance for showing off her abilities.
Not the case when it came to Night Folk.
The mansion's road stretched before them, Seraphina leading the way through the dimly lit lawn. The orbs behind her head flickered with a soft glow, magic holding the elements within casting feeble rays on the worn cobblestones. Even the ball of flame behind her seemed unable to fully engulf the way in light.
Just as ominous as before.
That was to be expected of an area that bordered the edge of the Night Tide, where one could see the tide of shadow rain fall upwards to the heavens. Not near the manse located in the heart of Warderen, near the Lord’s Tower of all places.
It was as if they were spitting on the most holiest of land, in her opinion.
As they neared the crime scene, the air thickened with the unmistakable stench of decay. The guards she had posted there seemed sickly, though she had verified that there were no physical pollutants. It was the emotional remnants that lingered in the air and even she could not fully sway the effects from herself, despite the best efforts of Water and Air purity.
Before now, she had never known that emotional influence was a viable means of magic, though her master had told her it was not unheard of among some of the Lord’s High Mages of the past, and that Night Folk broke the rules in more ways than one.
Despite her best research and using various purifying techniques, she could not dim it’s presence absolutely.
Perhaps it was her unfortunate companion that was the cause.
Mulch - concealed in layers of dark robes and adorned with a grinning gold mask - moved about with an air of childish curiosity, keeping pace with Seraphina's longer strides despite her short stature.
Of course, Mulch had the ‘benefit’ of scuttling instead of walking, hints of countless pointed feet poking beneath her robes as she followed Seraphina. The sound it made on the cobblestone - like tiny bits of pebbles clicking and clacking - still brought shivers up her spine, no matter how long she was beside the tiny morph.
This was a mistake, she thought to herself. But she had no other options! She had stubbornly accepted this investigation for the Lord’s High Mage while he handled a travel treaty with a neighboring kingdom. It had been her idea to talk to Mulch, after having found a citizen complaint about a Night Folk living in a hovel near a market.
It had seemed to be the perfect storm of opportunities: study the Night Folk peasantry and use them to help her solve the case!
Too perfect. Mulch was… Mulch.
Seraphina couldn't shake the unease in her gut as she approached the mansion’s entrance, nor blame the guards for flinching and aiming their weapons in Mulch’s general direction as the two of them passed.
If Mulch cared to notice, her demeanor did not show it. She seemed far more fascinated with the mansion’s interior and the lavish cushions that had been torn to shreds in a fury of feathers.
Stopping at the scene, Seraphina raised her hand out in front of her, “Fires of Man. Brighten the day and sear the shadows. Illuminate the darkened deed.”
The orb of fire floated before her and she could feel as the power within her Abstractum fueled the element's commands. Light emanated even more from the orb, though without heat, pushing away the shadows of the darkened home.
The owner was there. In a sense at least.
Skeleton nailed to the wall with needles so fine that she could only see them from how the light glinted off of the metal. Meat and skin were spread out around the bones in a ring of glory, more needles holding them in place, blood no longer dripping like it had been hours ago.
She had cast ice of preservation to keep the scene intact, but the orb had lost power an hour ago, dissipating into the grand Abstractia.
His organs were still missing.
"This is where it happened," she said, her voice rough from the smell and emotional effect of the ritual. "He was last seen speaking to his niece about a business loan. She returned, drunk and angry, and found him like this. My colleagues preserved the scene and interrogated her for a time before clearing her of involvement. I’ve determined this to be some sort of ritual, the emotional aura is more than enough proof of that, but I have no idea why a merchant of all people.
Seraphina looked into Mulch’s golden mask, “I need your help to understand this murder. The only conclusion is that this is twisted magic from the Night Tide. Can you shed light on this, Mulch?"
Mulch looked at Seraphina for a moment before turning and scuttling closer to the body. Seraphina went to berate the morph for stepping onto the blood, only to pause as Mulch stopped at the edge. Mulch rose slowly into the air, exposing thin spikes of legs of greenish-yellow, almost like shells with finer spikes of hair along them.
Mulch rose higher than Seraphina was tall, leaning to inspect the body’s remnants. Mulch shook their head, "Mulch sees no death here. Not now, but then. Not Mulch's doing."
Ah, so you knew I likely suspected you, at least a tad.
Seraphina's gaze bore into the masked morph. "You have nothing else to offer? You're from the Night Tide, the source of those m- Night Folk. Do you truly have no familiarity with this ritual?"
Mulch let out a mewl, a sound that resonated beneath the grinning mask. "Mulch left the Night Tide. No more darkness. Seraphina is curious, like a moth around a flame. But is no flame. Is just pretty lights."
Seraphina clenched her jaw, orbs pulsating with restrained elemental power. Lord Above give me strength. "Facts, not riddles Mulch. If you have nothing to provide, then I will escort you back to your hovel. In the meantime-."
With a swift motion, Mulch extended a hidden limb from beneath the robes, morphing it into a shape reminiscent of a spider. The appendage moved with an otherworldly grace, chitin limbs flying out with surprising speed. Seraphina's orbs intensified in response, bathing Mulch's hidden appendage in their light, almost before Seraphina could react, several offensive commands on the tip of her tongue-
The spidery limbs, dozens of them, struck the glistening needles of the crime scene.
Retracting with that same eerie speed, all the needles were ripped from the body. With them came a tearing sound, like a wet towel splitting in twain, and then the gore was gone. Everything was gone; the blood, the bones, the meat and skin… nothing was left of the corpse.
The emotional disgust and smell of death vanished in an instant, leaving Seraphina gasping in sudden unexpected relief. The needles held within the spidery limbs were still glistening, but they held what looked like damp moss from stones.
"Mulch shapes as the Night Folk shapes,” Mulch explained plainly, retracting her limbs into the cloak, alongside the needles and moss. “Spiders, scorpions, swimming critters. But Mulch keeps the true form hidden."
Mulch pointed at the true scene in front of them, “Pretty lights. Not flame. Big sneak for Sun Folk and…”
And there were words on the wall where the corpse had been, ones that made Mulch pause.
YOU WANT THE MERCHANT
WE WANT THE MULCH
DELIVER ITS CORPSE TO THE NIGHT TIDE IN ONE DAY
Seraphina's eyes widened at the message. She towered over Mulch as the creature lowered itself down, but the masked enigma didn’t notice her approach.
"Mulch," she said quietly. “Why did you leave the Night Tide? Why do these kidnappers want you dead?"
I didn't even know Night Folk could die.
The gold mask stared at the message, inscrutable. "Mulch left for Seraphina.”
Seraphina blinked.
“Left for Sun Folk. Left for a taste of daylight. Left for curiosity, like a child peeking through keyholes."
Mulch turned their golden mask to face Seraphina, her voice quieter, “Mulch lied. Mulch left because Mulch was scared.”
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Something in the Night ~ Chapter Seven
Summary: Following the Battle of the Five Armies, a seriously wounded Thorin Oakenshield returns to Erebor to recuperate and eventually ascend the throne as king. With the deaths of Azog the Defiler and his son, Bolg, Thorin no longer has to worry about the bounty the Defiler placed on his head and can instead concentrate on restoring Erebor to its former glory.
Nina Carren of Esgaroth has one goal—to make Thorin Oakenshield pay for unleashing Smaug the dragon unto her home—where he destroyed the town and killed her family. The Defiler might be gone, but his bounty remains very much in place, and she fully intends to collect on it.
Finally, the opportunity shows itself for her to do just that, only to have it go horribly awry. Wounded and now at his mercy, neither Nina nor Thorin stopped to think what might happen, should things not go quite according to plan…
Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x ofc Nina Carren
Warnings: None
Rating: T
Word Count: 2.6k
Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @fizzyxcustard @xxbyimm @kibleedibleedoo @legolasbadass @lathalea @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972 @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @sazzlep
If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!
Previous chapters can be found here.
By nightfall, they’d set up camp at the base of the mountains, nestled among the rocks, on a bit of a rise so any trouble would be seen before it became a problem. Thorin sat back against a smooth slab of stone, staring off into the distance. It was most likely his imagination, but he thought the lights that shone as pinpricks on the horizon might be the lights of Rivendell. It was hard to know for certain, as the Southeast Passage twisted and turned, rose and fell, until if it wasn't for the sun’s dependability, he would have no clue as to where exactly they were.
A small fire crackled softly, taking the chill from the night air. They’d had a simple supper of hunter’s stew that the Rivendell kitchens had sent with them and now Dwalin dozed in his bedroll across from where Thorin sat.
Nina sank onto the slab beside him and nodded toward the sleeping Dwalin. “Your friend does not like me.”
“He is gruff, is all.”
“Gruff?” She shook her head and he didn't miss the hint of a grin pulling at her lips. “Gruff is not what I would call it. I’m surprised he didn't jump up and lunge at me the moment I sat here.”
“He is my second, and watching over me is part of his job.” Thorin shrugged, looking down at the scraggly tree branch he had been in process of stripping. Bark curled away from it, revealing the soft green shade of wood that had broken from its tree only recently. “He sees himself as my keeper as a result.”
“I have to admit,” she met his gaze directly, “I should think a king would travel with more security.”
“I probably should,” he nodded, “but to be honest, sometimes, it is suffocating, always being under someone’s watchful eye.”
“True. But you’re their leader.”
He peeled off another strip of bark, which curled as it hit the dirt at his feet. “For what it’s worth, yes. But there are times if I wonder—”
She waited a moment, her eyes glittering like emeralds in the firelight, and when he just stared down at the stick, she said, “You wonder what?”
“It is of no matter,” he told her, tossing the stick to the ground before getting to his feet. It wouldn’t do to confide in this woman. She might have saved his life, but he knew nothing about her, nothing he could verify anyway, and although gruff was Dwalin’s baseline, even he normally thawed much more quickly than this. So, he would do well to follow Dwalin’s lead and eye Nina with at least a little suspicion and distrust.
With that, he climbed back down from the rocks, waiting for her to call out to him and ask him where he was going.
But she didn’t. Good. He hardly felt like talking any longer. Instead, he move down away from the rocks, toward a gentle slope where hearty pine trees refused to cry quarter. A hint of pine hung in the air, and with it, a hint of smoke.
He hated the smell of smoke. It brought rushing back memories he’d rather let rot in the deepest, dankest recesses of his mind. Even fire bothered him to a certain degree, although the fire crackling softly back where Dwalin slept was not about to consume them or the mountains or anything other than the sticks, brush, and leaves that made up its fuel. But, he didn't like to sit too close to the flames, and it didn't take much for even the heat to irritate him, before it gave him the urge to stand and move as far away as he could from it.
But that wasn’t all that troubled him. As he moved closer to the line of conifers, he felt Nina’s eyes boring into his back, just between his shoulder blades. It wasn't the first time since they’d left Rivendell he’d had the feeling she watched him. And not only watched him, but studied him.
Then there was that feeling he had seen her somewhere before. Each time he glanced over at her, the feeling grew stronger. Trouble was, he couldn’t figure out where he might have seen her. She was no dwarf, nor was she an elf.
She was of Man.
Clasping his hands behind his back, Thorin stared off into the darkness, where his eyes tried to fool him into thinking the trees were orcs, or goblins, or any of the friends and family he’d lost over time. The gentle breeze that swept through the pine needles whispered softly in their voices, reminding him that no matter what, they were always with him.
As peaceful as that light breeze was, as calming as the star-spangled night sky above him might be, his mind simply would not let him savor tranquility of any sort. Nina Carren was of Man. And she might claim to be from a village ‘west of Bree,’ but he had the feeling she was not telling them the whole truth.
She did not have the wary look the people of Bree and their ilk did. She kept to herself, from what he’d seen the brief time they were in Rivendell, but she did not seem to favor the shadows or hug walls as she moved through the corridors. She did not have the careworn look that came from a hard scrabble life that the Men of that part of Middle Earth all seemed to share.
The breeze picked up, carrying the hoot of a lone owl that reverberated about them. Where could he have seen her before? She certainly couldn't be from Dale. Although there were people living in Dale now, they were mostly people from Esgaroth and—
Esgaroth.
She could be from the town on the Long Lake. It had been fully populated when he and the Company arrived, thanks to Bard the Bowman, who was currently the master of Dale whilst Esgaroth was rebuilt.
But why would a woman of Esgaroth be all the way out in these parts? After Esgaroth’s destruction at the mouth of Smaug, those who survived settled in Dale, rebuilding it into the thriving city it once was as well.
Still…
“Is something there?”
He hadn’t heard Nina come up behind him, but he managed to keep from jumping at the unexpected sound of her husky voice. “No,” he shook his head, “nothing I can see.”
“So why do you stare?”
“I’m not staring.” He glanced down at her. “I’m thinking.”
“About what?”
“Nothing you need worry about.”
“Who said I was worried? I simply do not like being caught off-guard.”
“Then you have no need to worry. As I said, I’m merely thinking and by that, I mean letting my mind wander a bit.”
“You don’t seem the sort to engage in such things.”
“I don't seem the sort… No, I don’t suppose I do. But, just as anyone else needs a bit of respite, I am no different.”
“Take care,” she told him, her voice low but stern, “it can be dangerous to let your mind wander too far.”
“I’ll try to keep it in mind. So, tell me,” he said, turning his gaze back to the woods once more, “how did you come to be in that clearing at that particular time?”
“The same way you did, I supposed,” she told him without hesitation. “I was traveling.”
“To where, though? For I know it was not Rivendell.”
“Are you so certain?” Her voice was mild. “I was, in fact, making my way there. In search of work.”
“Work?” Now he turned to her. “What sort of work?”
“I take whatever I might find,” she replied with a lazy shrug. “I have to eat, don’t I?”
“So you thought to find employment in Rivendell?”
“I had hoped I might, yes. The worst they could have done was sent me on my way.” Another lazy shrug. “Everyone knows Lord Elrond would not have me imprisoned for asking for work. He most likely would have offered me lodging for the night and sent me on my way the next morning.”
She had him there. Elrond would not necessarily be troubled by a small girl appearing on his doorstep in search of work. He was no closer to figuring out where he might recognize her from and she was far too clever to give up the answers.
But perhaps another tact would work.
“What sort of work do you do?”
“Whatever I can find.” The owl went silent and the breeze grew cooler as the night’s chill crept into it. Nina’s curls danced on that breeze, tugging free from whatever pins she tucked into her hair. In the pale glow of the silvery moon, those curls glinted copper as they floated about her face, which was almost as pale as the moon itself.
“Such as?”
“Why do you care how I support myself?” Her eyes narrowed as she stared up at him. “It is no concern of yours.”
“I am but curious.” He fought to keep his expression neutral and his voice even. “It appears to be a sensitive subject for you and I wonder why, is all.”
“Because my life is none of your concern. I’ve a job here and—”
“A job?” Now he smiled. “Am I paying you? Because I recall no such bargain.”
“I offered and you accepted and that means—” Her cheeks grew red as she visibly swallowed.
“That means what, Miss Nina?”
“You—well… I thought… that is…”
“You never mentioned payment and no price was agreed upon.” He folded his arms across his chest and gazed down at her. “Was it?”
“No,” she murmured with a slow shake of her head, “I don't suppose it was.”
“No, it was not.” He tapped his forefinger against his forearm. “So, tell me again why you were out there, for I do not believe for one moment you were seeking employment at Rivendell.”
Nina could only barely hear Thorin’s voice over the thunder of her pulse pounding through her ears. You fool! You never thought to discuss payment for accompanying him!
He certainly wouldn’t believe she offered her services out of the goodness of her heart, nor would he believe she often acted as a mercenary. No, she’d just made a serious mistake.
Her mouth dry and her heart slamming against her ribs, she met his narrowed eyes. Her brain whirled with any scenario she could possibly come up with that he might believe.
“Any time you wish to explain,” he broke into her thoughts, his voice low, “I am listening.”
“Very well… I did not think of discussing payment,” she began slowly, choosing her words carefully, “because I was hoping that once we made our way East, I might convince you to take me on in your city.”
“As what? You’ve not yet said what it is you do.”
“I do a bit of everything. I’ve been a serving girl. I’ve worked as a cook. I can even be a maid, if you need one. Or, as you’ve seen, I’m quite handy with a weapon.”
“So I could take you on as solder?”
She shrugged, a hint of relief swirling through her. “Absolutely.”
“And what training have you?”
“Training? Well… if you mean formal training, then—”
“Of course I mean formal training. What else would I mean?”
She drew in a deep breath and squared her shoulders as she said, “I have none. I am entirely self-taught, but you saw for yourself that I’ve skills with weapons and I fear neither man nor monster.”
“And you think I need a self-taught girl in my army?” A hint of amusement wove through his voice. “Why?”
That relief melted into hot embarrassment and her cheeks burned with it. “Very well. If you wish me to leave then, I will.”
As she moved to step around him, Thorin caught her by her upper arm. “Not so fast.”
She stared down at the massive hand clamped about her. “I beg your pardon, but let go of me.”
“You promised your services and I accepted them. And now you wish to tuck tail and run away?”
“You’re not paying me,” she countered evenly, “why should I remain here?”
“You gave your word.”
She held his stare. “And you expect me to be able to live off my word, do you? Dwarves have a funny way of viewing the world if that’s how you think I might survive.”
“I assure you,” his grip eased and he lowered his hand slowly from her, “I know just how the world works. Which is why I am curious as to why you—a girl who moves from place to place and survives on her wits and cunning, it seems—would not think to bargain for payment before trekking halfway across the world.”
She shrugged. “When you have nothing, you learn to do with nothing. And I thought, perhaps when we reached Erebor you would think I’d earned something for my trouble.”
For a moment, she thought he’d let the matter drop, or better still, would agree with her and insist that of course he would make such an offer. But, judging by the slight smile that curved his lips and the steeliness of his eyes, she had the feeling she had missed the mark.
But to her surprise, all he said was, “And what would you consider sufficient?”
“I—that is, you—what I mean is…” Heat flooded her cheeks as she tried to control her stammering. Cleaning her throat, she clamped her lips together to quiet herself, and once she managed that, she drew in a deep breath, met his pale eyes once more, and finally said, “Whatever you think is sufficient.”
He just stared for a long moment and she wondered if she’d said the wrong thing once more. Still, even as her belly churned and her breath grew harder to catch once more, she held that stare as if nothing troubled her.
Finally, he broke the thickening silence, bobbing his head as he said, “A wise answer, indeed.”
“I am not greedy.”
“No,” he replied, “you don’t seem to be.”
Then he stepped back. “You should get some sleep.”
“I can take the first watch, if you’d rather rest some.” The words popped out on their own, but she didn't regret them. He did look tired, after all. Besides, she wasn't exactly a monster, either.
“I’m fine. Go and rest yourself. We still have a long road ahead of us.”
“I don't mind.”
“Nor do I. So, do as I say and get some sleep.”
With that, he moved around her and made his way back up toward the rocks. She watched his retreating figure, and once she was certain he was out of earshot, she sighed. Her plan had seemed so simple when she set out to track him down. But now…
But now what? Nothing has changed, you fool. He unleashed the beast that killed your family. All of them. It is his fault and this is what he deserves.
She swallowed hard as she started back, pausing only when Dwalin’s snores reached her ears. He was sound asleep. There was no one else around them. She could sneak up on Thorin and be done with it and then disappear into the night.
With that, she curled her fingers about the worn leather grips of the blade at her hip and slipped the blade from its sheath without a sound.
Her heart sped up as she drew nearer, as she caught sight of him sitting before the fire, the golden light dancing along his long tangle of silver-streaked jet black curls.
He would never know what hit him.
#Richard Armitage#AU#The Hobbit#Thorin Fic#Thorin Oakenshield#Is it hot in here?#Hobbit Fic#Romance#Hobbit Fanfic#Thorin x OC#Fan fiction#The Hobbit fan fiction
16 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi!
I just saw that you have 0 requests, so imma give you one:)
How do you think would the boys insta profiles look like? Like their posts oder their stories..
You can show it with pictures like you did at that other request.. if it is easier for you;) Greetings
the boys and their insta profiles!
the way i ran to pinterest as soon as i read this ask-
i decided to go with instagram since that's the social platform i use most, also i have officially decided that the brothers' last name is morningstar lol
all images found on pinterest!
genre: other
cw: mature themes in ricardo's, language
❧ he's basically a social media influencer
❧ he posts about the places he travels to and the shenanigans he gets up to with his friends
❧ on his stories he'll post his friends' content, little updates, and any memes he finds funny
❧ he'll also boost any social movements/local efforts, uses his platform for good
❧ wanted to make a dark academia aesthetic page but that was too much effort
❧ also thought about doing a book review page, but that was also too much work
❧ ended up getting a lot of attention from lucia's fans who comment on his posts thinking it'll get lucia's attention?? so levy has the word "lucia" banned from his comments lmao
❧ his stories are full of historical content, and he absolutely follows a "this day in history" type page
❧ most people think his page is some sort of arg, cryptic mystery
❧ his followers have tried to reverse image search his post, thinking it's ai or from a video game, but it's completely original and taken by mefy
❧ where is this place? why did he take it? why does the caption only say "time is running out"? why is he verified??
❧ added to the mystery is the fact that the year on the post is years before instagram was launched mefy hacked the app to do that, he just likes fucking with people
❧ had kurt help him set up his account lol
❧ all of his captions are complete sentences, it's very old man of him
❧ posts mainly about nature and his garden, and he'll show off anything that kurt makes him
❧ on his story he'll post inspirational quotes
❧ only has this account to keep an eye on lucia and kurt
❧ he also follows levy, mefy, and oswald
❧ mefy doesn't follow him back
❧ doesn't intend to post anything ever, he just doesn't see the point
❧ goes live a lot to do readings and horoscopes once a week
❧ keeps his regular posts to a minimum, but posts a lot on his story about space, nature, and astrology
❧ lowkey the only reason why he's got so many followers is because lucia beefs about him a lot on his page
❧ now there's a whole team lucia vs team mikael feud going on in their mini fandom
❧ lemme hear you say thirst traps!!
❧ the only reason he's so famous is because he's hot and an asshole
❧ every now and then he'll post his gun and if it gets taken down within a week, he'll let a random follower choose his next tattoo
❧ he's technically also a social media influencer, but for all the wrong reasons
❧ the link in his bio leads to his other socials, paypal/venmo, and an only fans
❧ ricardo lowkey talked him into getting an account so he can cyberbully him
❧ doesn't know what he's doing; looked up "profile pictures" and picked the first one he found amusing
❧ same thing with his singular post, and the caption is simply "this is funny"
❧ his followers are mikael, ricardo, oswald, and lucas, whom he follows all back as well as a cat meme page
❧ another influencer who got famous for his pretty boy aesthetic and howl pendragon vibes
❧ none of his followers know his location, and they cannot for the life of them figure it out; it's similar to mefy's page where all his posts are completely original, but nobody knows where they were taken
❧ also uses his platform for good, and the link in his bio leads to a bunch of activism resources and articles
❧ this is his main page, just a bunch of middle school shenanigans
❧ has a spam account that's really popular at his school; it's basically a school meme page with regular memes sprinkled in
❧ he also secretly runs his school's shoot your shot page
❧ complaints about his job on his story but always forgets that kaim follows him lmao
#my. hcs#nightmare harem#nightmare harem hcs#nightmare harem lucia#nightmare harem levy#nightmare harem mefy#nightmare harem oswald#nightmare harem kaim#nightmare harem mikael#nightmare harem ricardo#nightmare harem noel#nightmare harem lucas#nightmare harem kurt#otome games
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Knives is tied to the Bernardelli Insurance Society (Headcanon)
Who knows the most about vash and documents his travels?
Meryl and Milly
Who Also knows about vash and is able to determine through the information on claims about the humanoid typhoon? KNIVES
When did all the shit start with knives and the Gung ho guns start following vash?
Quite soon after meryl and milly joined up with Vash (or meryl and roberto)
Wolfwood only finds Vash initially after a while of meryl and milly following Vash
Which means, SOMEONE is back at the Bernardelli insurance society looking through these claims and reports and forwarding them to knives
To meryl and milly, it's just a job, they're doing what their told to do which is monitor a known threat to Gunsmoke and send in reports
Why else did wolfwood struggle to find Vash for two years when he was hiding out ad Eriks? The insurance girls were not with him. Homeboy doesn't seem to be very good at tracking and without a stream of information on his wearabouts that's verified by many experiences by the same people sending in the reports its gonna be very hard to track someone who's made it very hard for them to be found
And for chasing down every possible lead is going to send WW on an absolute wild Goose chase and of course its gonna take him literally YEARS to find his target
It might just be a coincidence, but given how knives is so ingrained in the background of Gunsmoke society, it makes sense that he has eyes and ears in all the insurance companies and he could have just gotten lucky that the bernardelli insurance society landed the hit first?
Idk if it's necessarily a scam, but it's a damn good way to get reliable information and weed through all of the false shit. It also gives an extra insight for when the Gung ho guns start attacking and meryl and milly send in their reports and in turn that Intel gets sent back to knives
#trigun#trigun stampede#headcanon#trigun headcanons#vash the stampede#meryl stryfe#milly thompson#nicholas d. wolfwood#millions knives
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
STRANGER THINGS: THE FIRST SHADOW SPOILERS - PATTY NEWBY
here is a compilation of all things I can recall from the play involving Patty Newby
also to note: some things I am still a little confused about and will need to verify when I see it again soon. I will update as I remember things!
Adopted daughter or Mr and Mrs Newby
Doesn't know who her mother was or where she is - feels like an outcast in Hawkins - this is what she eventually bonds with Henry about
Bob a loving brother to her but tease just as any siblings would
Mr Newby, the principal of the high school and a leading figure of the Church/local community, has clear bias against her - stricter on rules and regulations for her than Bob and other students
Revealed that Mrs Newby ran off with TED WHEELER'S FATHER - reason for Mr Newby's bitterness (no excuse, sir. leave her alone)
Mr Newby thought adopting a girl/another child into the family would strengthen the relationship with his wife, as they were clearly struggling and growing apart - he failed. lol.
Patty is a fan of comic books - she is seen multiple times praying to Wonder Woman (she's a real cutie guys, you'll love her)
Patty and Henry bond over their outcasting from others and enjoyment of comics, particularly the Captain Midnight series, on his first day at the high school
Patty has a talent for singing, something she believes could be from her mother, and her dream is to do it professionally someday
Patty auditions for the lead in Joyce's directed play, Henry steps up to read in for the part opposite her - they are then told they will need to kiss in the scene which is interrupted but it is clear they like each other from this
There is a brief scene where Walter Henderson makes a racially charged jab at her not belonging, to which Charles Sinclair stands and glares to get him to back down
Patty follows after Henry when he is distressed, assuring him she is there and cares
He reveals about his powers to her though does not admit all about hurting the boy at his last school in Nevada or killing the local pets recently - he shows Patty his ability to alter dreams and make them feel real (I saw this as his understanding of his powers, he thinks it is about controlling dreams and doe snot realise they are actually affecting reality until he learns the cat he killed in his dream was actually killed in reality and he is responsible for it)
In Patty's dream that Henry helps her to see, she is the lead singer and others form the town are her backup singers/dancer - yeah, guys, there's a whole musical number with pink sparkles and feathers and all
She then asks Henry to use his powers to find her mother - he finds her in Vegas as a singer - unfortunately, things go wrong and he can't control the evil
Mr Newby has been told by Victor that Patty is with Henry at the house and he storms over, Henry then trapping him with his powers, breaking his legs and blinding his eyes - he only breaks out before killing him completely when Patty shouts out that she loves him
In hospital, Mr Newby confesses his reasoning for her adoption to her and, of course, she is rightfully upset
Henry has been missing since the incident (with Brenner) - she sees him again during the play where Henry confronts Brenner, who tells her Henry is violent and responsible for everything - despite feeling betrayed Henry was untruthful to her, she tries to defend him against Brenner
However, Henry's powers are untamed and he lashes out with anger - Patty falls from the rafters of the school theatre stage and is presumed dead
Henry is taken by Brenner and told that she has died
It is not revealed to him until the end of the show when Henry (tied in a straight jacket and wheelchair) is in the in-between world (with the water, like in the series) and sees her alive with a walking stick - she has travelled to Vegas to be reunited with her mother
This means she is still out there and could make an appearance in ST5 - perhaps, the gang find her to appeal to Henry's more human, compassionate side - defeat evil with the power of love and friendship and all that
#stranger things#the first shadow#stranger things the first shadow#stranger things spoilers#the first shadow spoilers#stranger things the first shadow spoilers#st tfs#netflix#patty newby#henry creel#vecna
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY
based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … May 23
c.1012 – Benedict IX (d.circa 1056), born in Rome as Theophylactus of Tusculum, was Pope on three occasions between 1032 and 1048. Aged approximately 20 at his first election, he is one of the youngest popes in history. Unqualified by his youth, his bringing up, his depravity, Benedict IX became one of the very few really disreputable popes. He is the only man to have been Pope on more than one occasion, the only man ever to have sold the papacy, and the first verifiable person to have resigned the papacy. He was also the first pope known to be primarily homosexual.
Benedict's pontificate, which was known for homosexual orgies in the Lateran Palace, "turned the Vatican into a male brothel" and was so scandalous that he was deposed, not once but twice. Benedict was deposed in 1045, but then reinstated, only to be deposed again. He disappeared into such deep obscurity that his actual date of death is unknown.
According to one report, which it may be hoped is true, Benedict retired to the abbey of Grottaferrata, resigned all claim to the papacy, and spent his last years as a penitent.
1791 – France creates a new law system where rape is the only punishable sex crime. Sodomy, a former capital offense, is not included, leading France to be the first country to decriminalize sex between men.
c.1897 – Gabriel Atkin was a British artist. Born William Park Atkin, Gabriel Atkin was born in South Shields, Durham, the son of a builder (d.1937). Before the First World War he showed promise as a water-colourist and he studied briefly at Armstrong College in Newcastle with tutor Richard George Hatton.
With the start of the war he enlisted and in the summer of 1915 he was sent to Cambridge for officer training. While there he got to know the circle of gay men including the academics Edward Dent and A. T. 'Theo' Bartholomew. Although Atkin could be charming he was also prone to drunkenness and riotous behaviour, which caused those around him embarrassment and anguish. They engaged in some matchmaking and encouraged Siegfried Sassoon to meet Atkin. The meeting took place when Siegfried Sassoon travelled to Margate, where Gabriel Atkin was staying. The meeting went well and they immediately fell for each other. They spent that Christmas together at Siegfried Sassoon's family home at Weirleigh and at Robert Ross's rooms in Half Moon Street in London. Gabriel Atkin almost certainly provided Siegfried Sassoon with his first sexual encounter.
a Gabriel Atkin watercolor
After this Siegfried Sassoon became a minor literary celebrity and got to know a number of well-known people. This meant that Gabriel Atkin also got to know them. Sacheverell Sitwell introduced Siegfried Sassoon to Ronald Firbank. Although Siegfried Sassoon did not find Ronald Firbank's work appealing they met a couple more times mainly because Atkin was a devotee. They had also got to know some of the Bloomsbury Set including Lytton Strachey, Mark Gertler, Duncan Grant, and John Maynard Keynes.
Gabriel Atkin had a show at the London Salon in 1919. In 1920 Atkin was living in a studio flat in Tite Street in Chelsea, London, and Siegfried Sassoon gave him an allowance of £300 so that he could continue painting. They began to see much less of each other, although Siegfried Sassoon continued to send money for some years.
Gabriel Atkin travelled to France and for a while was a male prostitute in Lyon and then the south of France.
In 1928 he met the minor writer Mary Butts, and they married in London in 1930. For the first two years of their marriage they lived in London and Newcastle. They then settled in Sennen in Cornwall and bought a cottage that they called Tebel Vos. They both relied on drink and drugs. The marriage was troubled and Gabriel Atkin left in 1934. By 1937 they were both dead.
1914 – Leo Lerman (d.1994) was an American writer and editor who worked for Condé Nast Publications for more than 50 years. Lerman also wrote for the New York Herald Tribune, Harper's Bazaar, Dance Magazine, and Playbill.
Lerman was born in New York City, the son of Jewish immigrants from Eastern Europe. He grew up in East Harlem and Queens, New York. As a child, he accompanied his house-painter grandfather and father on various jobs in upper-class homes. He was openly gay.
From earliest adolescence, he knew he was homosexual and that he was highly sensual - inclinations that did not remotely worry his doting, manipulative mother. As a teenager, he overheard "Momma" tell one of his aunts on the phone, "He will never get married. So what if he's a 'mother's boy'?" she added. "I'm his mother."
As a struggling writer, he leavened his spirits by giving parties for the beau monde and the haut monde, first in a shabby-chic walk-up he shared with his first love, the painter Richard Hunter; later in a brownstone on Lexington Avenue, where he lived for 20 years with Foy; and then at a sprawling duplex in the Osborne on 57th Street, where they moved in 1967.
Lerman's parties attracted everyone from magazine editors and writers to Maria Callas, Anaïs Nin, Margot Fonteyn, Frederick Ashton, Cecil Beaton, Diana and Lionel Trilling, Aaron Copland, Gloria Steinem and Leonard Bernstein.After Lerman died in 1994, not long after his 80th birthday, his lifelong love and partner, the artist Gray Foy, discovered hundreds of notebooks secreted in a warehouse, file drawers and even a trunk under the piano he'd converted to a desk, "stretching from the months before his first Vogue assignment (in 1941) to a year before his death."
Stephen Pascal, Lerman's assistant at Vogue, Vanity Fair and Condé Nast for more than 12 years, and later, his amanuensis, took on the daunting task of editing this material.
Selections from his journals, roughly 10 percent of the writings, were published in 2007 as The Grand Surprise: The Journals of Leo Lerman. Meant to be the source material for a novel he never wrote, the journals detail his social and business interactions with a remarkable number of famous and important people who passed through the New York arts scene from the 1940s to the '90s.
Among the memories:
He once flatly rejected a "Narcissus naked" Yul Brynner, who was begging him to sleep with him and pathetically murmuring, "Why won't you? Why won't you?"
The first, and probably only, woman Lerman ever saw naked was his great friend Marlene Dietrich, at a time when she was having what he described in a diary entry as an "intense affair with Yul." According to Lerman's lifelong love and partner, the artist Gray Foy, Dietrich had asked Lerman into her bath to demonstrate "the female anatomy." Apparently, Lerman took in the view with respectful attention, if not passion.
1920 – Harvard establishes a committee to investigate homosexual activity on campus. The tribunal becomes known as the Secret Court of 1920. Records of the tribunal are discovered in 2002. Many of those interrogated were never charged and have not been identified. In 2002, a researcher from The Crimson, the school's undergraduate daily newspaper, came across a box of files labeled "Secret Court" in the University Archives. After a protracted campaign on the part of the paper's staff, the university released five hundred documents relating to the Court's work. An article by Amit R. Paley in The Crimson's weekly magazine Fifteen Minutes reported the 1920 events on November 21, 2002.
1969 – In this day’s issue of the American porno magazine Screw, a column appears by Jack Nichols and Lige Clarke using the term homophobia to refer to straight men’s fear that they might be gay. Screw is usually a straight man’s magazine.
1979 – Chris Morris is an activist who, aged 15, with Euan Sutherland, successfully challenged the British Government in the European Court of Human Rights and secured an equal age of consent for sexual activity between males. He went on to study psychology and work as a political speechwriter and consultant.
When male homosexuality was decriminalised in England and Wales in 1967, the age of consent was set at 21. It was lowered to 18 in 1994, but Morris and Sutherland took their case to the European Court to demand it be reduced further to 16, the same age as it is for heterosexuals. They invoked the European Convention on Human Rights, which guarantees the right to a private life and protection from discrimination.
Their case was originally backed by the gay rights group Stonewall and later Morris formed his own organisation, YouthSpeak, which was funded by Sir Ian McKellen. YouthSpeak sent delegations of teenagers to meet MPs and the media to tell their personal stories about how an unequal age of consent affected their lives. The group also projected a laser beam onto Big Ben demanding "16 for everyone" and delivered a 25,000-strong petition to new prime minister Tony Blair when he was elected in May 1997.
Opposition to the campaign was led by Conservative peer Baroness Young and the then Archbishop of Canterbury, George Carey, among others.
In July 1997, the European Court found that the existence of different ages of consent was discriminatory and that no valid grounds existed to justify that discrimination. They therefore found that the age of consent for homosexual acts should be lowered to 16.
In response to the court's findings, the then Home Secretary Jack Straw agreed with Sutherland and Morris that a Bill would be proposed to Parliament in the summer of 1998 to reduce the age of consent for homosexual acts to 16. After two defeats in the House of Lords, the law was eventually changed as part of the Sexual Offences (Amendment) Act 2000, in November 2000.
In 1998, Morris became a member of OutRage! and in 1999 he founded and became editor of the gay rights magazine Outcast. Contributors included left-wing Mayor of London Ken Livingstone, Lib Dem leader Charles Kennedy, Foreign Office minister Ben Bradshaw, Anti-Gay author Mark Simpson and veteran activist Peter Tatchell. The magazine satirised and was critical of many gay activists and businesses and Morris was criticised for "biting the hand that fed him" during his age of consent campaign.
With OutRage!, he broke into Lambeth Palace and confronted the then Archbishop of Canterbury, George Carey, about his opposition to an equal age of consent. With Peter Tatchell and two others, he attempted a citizen's arrest on President Robert Mugabe to publicise Mugabe's alleged role in the torture of two opposition journalists (Mark Chavunduka and Ray Choto) in Zimbabwe. He was himself arrested but later released without charge.
2013 – The Boy Scouts of America's national council votes to remove the ban against gay scouts, causing conflict with some faith-based supporters. The policy for adult leaders remained in place until July 27, 2015.
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pioneered by digital literacy experts, the "Sift" strategy is a technique for spotting fake news and misleading social media posts, says Amanda Ruggeri.
It's no secret that misinformation is rampant on social media. And it's even more so in some subjects than others. Research has found, for example, that around two-thirds of the most popular YouTube videos on vaccines contain misinformation. The fall-out can be dire: an uptick in inaccurate anti-vaccination content online correlates with a decline in vaccination coverage, especially among children. That has led to larger outbreaks of potentially deadly diseases, like measles, than have been seen in recent years.
"Misinformation is worse than an epidemic," Marcia McNutt, president of the US National Academy of Sciences, put it in 2021, implicitly referring to the Covid-19 pandemic. "It spreads at the speed of light throughout the globe and can prove deadly when it reinforces misplaced personal bias against all trustworthy evidence."
HOW NOT TO BE MANIPULATED
In today's onslaught of overwhelming information (and misinformation), it can be difficult to know who to trust. In this column, Amanda Ruggeri explores smart, thoughtful ways to navigate the noise. Drawing on insights from psychology, social science and media literacy, it offers practical advice, new ideas and evidence-based solutions for how to be a wiser, more discerning critical thinker.
There are many reasons why misinformation travels so quickly – according to some research, even faster than accurate information. One reason is that people are far more likely to share a claim when it confirms their pre-existing beliefs, regardless of its accuracy. This cognitive bias may help explain why even more misinformation seems to be shared by individuals than by bots. One study, for example, found that just 15% of news sharers spread up to 40% of fake news.
That's a sobering statistic, but there's an upside. As long as individuals are the ones responsible for sharing so much misinformation, we're also the ones who – by being more mindful of what we "like", share, and amplify – can help make the greatest change.
When it comes to not falling for misinformation, being aware of our human fallibilities, such as our quickness to believe what we want to believe, is a good first step. Research shows that even being more reflective in general can "inoculate" us against believing fake news.
But it's not the only thing that we can do. In particular, researchers have found there are several simple, concrete strategies that we all can (and should) use, especially before we're tempted to share or repeat a claim, to verify its accuracy first.
One of my favourites comes with a nifty acronym: the Sift method. Pioneered by digital literacy expert Mike Caulfield, it breaks down into four easy-to-remember steps.
1. S is for… Stop
Perhaps one of the most pernicious aspects of the modern era is its urgency. Thanks to everything from our continual phone use to nonstop work demands, far too many of us seem to be navigating the world at a dizzying speed.
Being online, where both news cycles and content are especially fast-paced and often emotive, can put us in a particularly "urgent" mindset. But when it comes to identifying misinformation, immediacy is not our friend. Research has found that relying on our immediate "gut" reactions is more likely to lead us astray than if we take a moment to stop and reflect.
The first step of the Sift method interrupts this tendency. Stop. Don't share the post. Don't comment on it. And move on to the next step.
2. I is for… Investigate the source
Posts show up in our social media feeds all the time without us having a clear sense of who created them. Maybe they were shared by a friend. Maybe they were pushed to us by the algorithm. Maybe we followed the creator intentionally, but never looked into their background.
Now's the time to find this out. Who created this post? Get off-platform and do a web search. And because search results can be misleading, make sure you're looking at a reputable website. One that fact-checkers often use as a first port of call might surprise you: Wikipedia. While it's not perfect, it has the benefit of being crowd-sourced, which means that its articles about specific well-known people or organisations often cover aspects like controversies and political biases.
While you're investigating, ask:
If the creator is a media outlet, are they reputable and respected, with a recognised commitment to verified, independent journalism?
If it's an individual, what expertise do they have in the subject at hand (if any)? What financial ties, political leanings or personal biases may be at play?
If it's an organisation or a business, what is their purpose? What do they advocate for, or sell? Where does their funding come from? What political leanings have they shown?
And finally, once you've run your analysis (which can take just a couple of minutes), the most telling question of all: Would you still trust this creator's expertise in this subject if they were saying something you disagreed with?
3. F is for… Find better coverage
If, from the previous step, you find that you still have questions about the source's credibility, now's the time to dig a little further. What you're looking for is whether a more trustworthy source, like a reputable news outlet or fact-checking service, has reported and verified the same claim.
No surprise, but I find Google has some of the best tools for doing this. Obviously, there's Google itself, and if you're specifically looking to see if news outlets have covered something, Google News.
But I sometimes prefer to use the Google Fact Check search engine, which searches just fact-checking sites, specifically. Just keep in mind that Google says it doesn't vet the fact-checking sites it includes, so to make sure your results are reputable, you'll need to do a little further sleuthing – I like to see if an outlet has signed up to Poynter's International Fact-Checking Network, which you can check here.
If it's a photo you're investigating, use a reverse image search tool to see where else the image comes up online. Google has one, but I also like TinEye and Yandex. (You can also use these for video: take a screenshot from the video and put that in for your image search).
Your goal? To see whether there are any credible sources reporting the same information as what you're seeing, and saying that it's verified.
4. T is for… Trace the claim to its original context
Often, you'll wind up doing this at the same time that you're trying to find better coverage, at least if you're using the tools mentioned above. But the idea here is a little different. You're trying to find out where the claim came from originally.
Even if you see that a claim has been reported on by a credible media outlet, for example, it may not be original reporting; they may have gotten that claim from another outlet. Ideally, the original story should be linked – so always go there – but if it's not, you may need to search for it separately.
Crucially, you want to figure out not just whether something like this really is true, but whether anything was taken out of context. If you're looking at an image, does how it was described in the social media post you saw line up with what its original caption, context, and location? If it's a quotation from a speaker, was anything edited out or taken out of context or, when you see their full interview or speech, does it seem like perhaps they misspoke in that moment?
Taking these steps before deciding whether to simply share a claim might feel onerous. But the time investment of just a few minutes may save you not only embarrassment – but help ensure you're not spreading misinformation that, at its most dramatic, can even lead to illness and death.
Today, anyone can make a claim on social media. And anyone can be the person whose re-sharing of that claim is the one who makes it go viral. That means it's the responsibility of each one of us to make sure that what we are posting, liking, and sharing is, first and foremost, actually true.
#The 'Sift' strategy: A four-step method for spotting misinformation#misinformation#fact check#fact checkers#how to fact check#SIFT
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
It was a last-minute impulse purchase. Two hours before showtime, I watched resale prices finally begin to fall for the extremely sold-out opening night of Taylor Swift's six-night "residency" at Los Angeles' SoFi stadium. Even as a non-Swiftie, it has been impossible not to follow the feverish local coverage of international pilgrimages, friendship bracelet-making, and traffic warnings. But that split-second pop culture purchase was, for me, pure irrationalism.
With no fringe or Eras-themed ensembles in my closet, I rushed to my single seat through a sea of sequined, screaming squads with trepidation and a dull white button-down. Would I, a fortysomething South Asian man with passing knowledge of Swfitism be identified as an unwelcome interloper? Instead, my very gracious neighbor schooled me on how to wear my allotted LED bracelet, and soon I was alight in the same neon pink as the sea of humanity around us, Swift finally emerging out of parallel technicolor hues. The big tent revival swept away any fears, differences, doubts.
For three and a half hours, I too was part of the zeitgeist – a final chapter in a summer of spectacular pop culture revival led by three women at the peak of their powers.
Greta Gerwig, Beyoncé Knowles-Carter, and Taylor Swift have been the bona fide superstars of this American summer, transcending their own previous triumphs to reach unprecedented new heights.
#HotGirlSummer is now more specifically #BillionGirlSummer, with Barbie already the first woman-directed film to gross more than a billion dollars and Beyoncé and Swift's dual stadium tours estimated to gross similarly dizzying amounts, each pumping even more into fledgling local economies around the country.
In a city without a center and isolating car culture, for one week Taylor Swift transformed LA's stadium into a cathedral – an in-person congregation for hundreds of thousands. Soon Beyoncé will bring her roving "Renaissance" to the same stadium for three nights. Across Los Angeles, cinemas are still packed with squads of women and let's not deny it, many men – dressed in 50 shades of pink laughing and crying alongside Barbie's quest to become whole again.
[...]
It's been impossible to avoid the incessant social media coverage of this trinity of pink extravaganzas. Even my Pakistani immigrant father is texting me about how to join the Verified fans waitlist for Taylor's next dates. Despite the exorbitant prices for concert tickets, travel and even local movie theater outings – not to mention endless product tie-ins for all manner of merchandise — is this feverish demand simply consumer madness? Is it the cumulative decline of seriousness and taste that pretentious critics lament?
The answer is a resounding no. The hype surrounding Barbie, Beyoncé's Renaissance, and Taylor's Eras tour is commensurate with the sheer amount of resources, time and attention so many Americans of all races, genders and ages are devoting to being part of this moment. Critical acclaim has followed each of these works, layers of meaning are being made. They are an undeniable triumph of women's creativity and ownership. Nobody I know of is asking for refunds.
At a deeper level, the roaring return of big tent monoculture follows the ennui of lockdowns. It is pop at its collective and connective best – the very opposite of the culture that has defined the recent past – a splintered, atomized state of streaming individualism that seemed to be a permanent new state of affairs. The promise of streaming allowed for a kind of hyper-specificity that ensured incessant algorithm based devotion to the platform of delivery. Insularity, it turns out, has its limits. With at-home viewing no longer the only medium for entertainment, I'm certainly not alone in craving the very opposite.
[...] In the communal ecstasy of sold-out Barbie screenings and stadium séance of Beyhives and Swifties – the mood is strategic and intentional inclusion.
What Gerwig, Swift and Carter-Knowles have created in each of their new masterworks are gated dreamworlds. Swift in her moss-covered cottage of Americana folklore turns stadiums into fireside chats for any romantic, Beyoncé's House of Chrome is a black queer club as a spaceship of alien superstars soaring above the fray – and Barbieland is a pastry inversion of the real-world's patriarchy.
There are serious political undercurrents to all this, but the mood at the experiential level is buoyant, escapist and even comedic. Hovering on the distant horizon are Presidential elections and reminders of climate catastrophe but here is a ticketed invitation to get dressed, join the festivities and for the duration, release the wiggle, to quote the "Renaissance."
The closing note of each of these spectacles is a kind of transfer of energy, exuberance and American optimism that has been absent from public and cultural life for years.
Winter is of course coming. But in the interim, there has been a remarkable sense of sunshine this summer. Even those not in attendance have felt the afterglow of the women at its center. Not a cruel, but a communal, collective, and yes, glorious summer.
#the thing is#WOMEN.#we love to see it#taylor swift#beyonce#eras tour#renaissance tour#barbie#barbie (2023)#greta gerwig#npr
27 notes
·
View notes
Note
how did Donald Duck influence Star Wars? And wasn’t Indiana Jones inspired by Scrooge, not Donald?
George Lucas and Steven Spielberg mentioned that they were inspired by Carl Barks' comics.
So was Osamu Tezuka, the creator of Astro Boy and "Godfather of Modern Manga."
And Donald Duck was going on adventures with his nephews in the Carl Barks comics long before Scrooge McDuck was created and this is precisely why DT17 and other media trying to give all the credit to Scrooge but forgetting that Donald was the FIRST just proves my point in my frustration with them.
Everyone just thinks it was Scrooge McDuck thanks to the later Don Rosa's work: "Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck" which was loosely based on Carl Barks' works (Don Rosa exaggerated a lot of Scrooge's abilities at the expense of Donald's).
This is why I advocate for giving credit where credit is due when it comes to canon characters and where I feel DT17 really dropped the ball. Donald was an adventurer looong before Scrooge and some of Carl Barks' best comics don't even have him:
-"Donald Duck Finds Pirate Gold" - Carl Barks first full length comic
- "Mystery of the Swamp" - Donald and nephews encounter gnomish creatures in the Everglades which some think were the inspiration for the Ewoks in Star Wars
"The Mad Chemist" (the comic credited with discovering the chemical compound methylene 20 years before it was actually studied and verified!)
-"Lost in the Andes" - Carl Barks claimed was his best work
- "The Golden Helmet" - Donald and nephews: whoever possesses the golden helmet is ruler of North America
- "The Ice Box Robber" - The comic that showcased Donald having WWII PTSD
- "Sherrif of Bullet Valley" - Donald and nephews in the Wild West
- "Dangerous Disguise" - a comic about spies where a Donald look alike commits suicide by jumping out of a window
- "Luck of the North" Donald and nephews rescue Gladstone in Alaska
"Old California" - Donald and the nephews seem to time travel to California in 1848 and they witness the family there living their lives. It turns out they were in a bad car accident and were on the hospital in a coma for weeks. But the house is still there.
"A Christmas for Shacktown" - Donald and the nephews find ways to raise money for the poor kids in town
"The Gilded Man" - A search for a rare stamp leads Donald and the boys finding El Dorado
- "The Forbidden Valley" - Donald and the nephews discover a lost land of dinosaurs
Just to name a few. There are plenty more.
The great thing about the Carl Barks comics especially when it came to Donald was that although he still had bad luck, it showed him also have great skills in practically everything and it tackled deep emotional issues and real world events such as PTSD, spies/espionage, danger/adventure, poverty, but in a way that was relatable and entertaining.
Donald mixed the best of high action adventure with scenes of intimate, heartwarming domestic life with his nephews. It was literally the best of both worlds: adventure and domestic life.
So the world needs to know that actually it's Donald Duck that deserves the credit for the success of the Carl Barks comics. Not only was Donald first but he was used as the protagonist for many more comics than Scrooge. And I hope if we ever get another version of Ducktales that the writers actually credit Donald as he deserves and not a bunch of semi newbies that don't even exist in the original comics.
There's so much he inspired and influenced that people don't know and so it's unfair for him to be sidelined as he was for characters that haven't accomplished one iota of what he has.
It's time to give credit where it's actually due: to Donald Duck.
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
lin kuei on wheels
Hi! Motorcycles and motorcycle culture are one of my biggest passions, so I was really excited to see some people floating the idea of characters being bikers! I'd like to throw my own ring in the hat, so below are some of my headcanons and motorcycle assignments. I may do another post like this for the rest of the (formerly) Lin Kuei, Frost, Cyrax, and Sektor because... I really love motorcycles and I jump at the chance to talk about them. Everything below is just my personal indulgence, hehe!
cw: mentions of motorcycle crashes, ask to tag
characters: bi-han, kuai liang, tomáš vrbada
The implementation of motorcycles was Sektor's suggestion for quick transport through Earthrealm without depending on Liu Kang's powers to airdrop them to the approximate location of their objectives.
Sektor installed intercoms into their helmets, but the brothers rarely use or need them to communicate.
Though Kuai Liang has the fastest bike, Bi-han is the one who usually drives up front if they are travelling together. Kuai Liang doesn't tend to go full throttle unless they are all in a hurry, and Tomáš typically brings up the rear as the one with the slowest bike and the one who likes to mess around the most.
Bi-han and Kuai Liang have to take off their gloves to use their powers most effectively. When caught in a bad situation while in the saddle, Tomáš will usually jump into action to cover them.
Each brother knows the basics of maintenance, but Tomáš has worked on his motorcycle personally much more than the others.
Their gear and motorcycles are distinct, so they keep interactions with others to a minimum to avoid identity leaks. This includes law enforcement trying to pull them over for reckless driving.
The IDs they carry with them are fake for this reason as well, so technically none of them have a real permit. Their visors have all been modified to be tinted to further hide their identities while passing through.
From most to least crashes between the brothers: Kuai Liang (1000+cc supersport bikes are hardly beginner friendly), Tomáš (likes to do stunts), and Bi-han (aggressive driver to share the road with, but he's very sensible when not experiencing road rage)
Sektor repairs their bikes most often as THE Lin Kuei technomechanophile, but sometimes Tomáš will do repairs if he has nothing else (that he wants) to do. Kuai Liang prefers Tomáš' repairs because it always feels like Sektor adds modifications that he never asked for.
Suzuki 2022 Katana
Arai Quantum X helmet
Reax Castor Perforated Leather gloves
The Jacket Maker Darren Black Leather jacket
Knox Urbane Pro trousers
Aether Moto Boot
This man's brake-check game is truly DEMENTED. He will brake-check a van! He does not give a fuck! His brothers yell at him about it because you have a zero percent chance of winning a quarrel with a car if you are on anything less than a car.
He is the most prone to road rage, but outside of his tendency to aggressively and pointedly pass people or brake-check them, he's mostly responsible with it. He especially dislikes other vehicles getting in his wide personal bubble when riding. In spite of all of that, he doesn't use his horn very often.
Tries to signal for any sharp turns or strange road conditions fairy early while in the front so that his brothers don't get taken by surprise. He feels most comfortable leading because it makes him most likely to hit an obstacle before his brothers.
Bi-han often checks on his brothers through his mirrors, but if he loses sight of them, he will slow down and shoulder check every couple of seconds until they either leave his blind spot or he's verified that they're keeping up alright.
Bi-han's crash contingency plan is to take his gloves off and ice-slide to avoid road burn, but he has only had low-speed crashes while learning how to ride, so the feasibility of this plan is extremely questionable. He wears more gear than he would normally bother with out of a sense of responsibility. Similarly to Tomáš, he prefers motorcycle gear that feels and looks as close to civilian clothes as possible.
Surprisingly serious about learning and improving because he wants to lead by example, especially if they ever do a full-organisation implementation of motorcycles, Bi-han can sometimes be caught practising things like braking and figure eight turn repetitions.
He's used to sliding on his own ice, so he never understood the problem with "bad road conditions" until he was drove over black ice. Kuai Liang threw him a lifeline (his kusarigama), but the bike ate the entire highside.
Bi-han does not return any waves***. Ever.
Suzuki GSX1300 R Hayabusa
Scorpion EXO-R420 Engage helmet
ON BOARD PRX-1 gloves
KLIM Outlander GTX boots
T.ur Zero jacket and pants 2 piece suit
Kuai Liang is is the most rigorous with his gear because his motorcycle is the fastest (312 kmh) and he doesn't think he can teleport away unharmed at high speeds.
It's not that he's specifically afraid of the it, but Kuai Liang has never actually hit top speed on his motorcycle because he feels it to be excessive and hard to handle. Though he is trying to unlearn it, he has a dangerous habit of overcorrection.
This guy miraculously stops the death wobble by holding on to the handlebars and trying to stabilise them, which... Is the exact opposite thing that anybody should try to do, but he pulls it off every time. And he needs to get maintenance done because it happens way too often to be dismissed.
Sharp turns don't bother him very much. Sometimes his knee will touch the road briefly. Rather than having difficulty with sharp turns, he struggles to brake smoothly. Most often, his own speed takes him by surprise and he grabs a fistful of front brake in response. Bi-han will use his power to stop him before he can become a flying ninja, but he also tells Kuai Liang off for not having good braking technique.
Though he lacks a lot of technical knowledge and runs into the most issues, Kuai Liang's intuition is actually the best. The biggest issue he has is that he is more reactive than proactive, but he does know his range of movement and can utilise it without issues if he doesn't face unexpected circumstances. In that same vein, he's able to ride his brothers' motorcycles without any issues adjusting to the difference.
Unlike Bi-han, Kuai Liang makes an effort to braid his hair before a ride because he doesn't like the feeling of it whipping around. He also has the neatest hair after he takes his helmet off. He often teases Bi-han for keeping his hair down, but he does try to advise him to tie it up to avoid the struggle of fixing it nine hundred and ninety-nine tangles later.
Kuai Liang has a 50/50 chance of returning a wave***. He does try for the sake of etiquette, but he often misses his chance by the time he thinks to do it.
The Wal (BMW R 18 customised by Shinya Kimura)
LS2 Street Fighter helmet
Armure Kerr vented gloves
Dainese Street Rocker D-WP boots
Icon Mesh AF motorcycle jacket
Saint Unbreakable Engineered Slim Fit Armoured jean
Tomáš is the most likely to go squid* of all the brothers because he is fully confident and comfortable on his motorcycle in a way that they aren't. He also has a lot of faith in his ability to react fast enough to use his powers before he can get hurt, but sometimes his brothers will nag him about it anyways.
Unlike his brothers' sport bikes, Tomáš chose to ride a cruiser. The speed is much slower, but the ergonomics and flexibility for customisation made him choose it. It also boasts the largest gas tank and most powerful engine (1802cc), so he is basically the backup plan if someone runs out of gas or their bike gets stuck.
While Bi-han was vaguely interested in the concept of advancement and Kuai Liang was generally ambivalent to the idea, Tomáš was excited about the new motorcycles. As the one most interested in pop culture, he was most knowledgeable on them.
After getting to actually ride one, he became even more charmed by them, so he's by far the most involved in motorcycle culture. There's an endearing dorkiness about how cool he thinks it all is, but he is genuinely knowledgeable in applicable ways that his brothers aren't. He'd like to own more motorcycles, but there is no precedent for it or storage, so he focuses on customising the one that he has.
The first time Tomáš popped a wheelie, Bi-han hard-braked thinking that he was about to crash, and then proceeded to tell him off for fooling around too much. After a while, Bi-han got used to it and begrudgingly considered it a skill asset.
Aside from the fact that most sport bikes are miserable rides for any passengers, Tomáš is the best one to turn to if you need a lift. He isn't as prone to overcorrection as Kuai Liang and adjusts the fastest to having and accommodating a passenger**.
Tomáš makes an active attempt to return waves*** because he knows that his brothers probably won't. As someone who regularly takes his hands off of the handlebars, and the one most often in the back, it isn't as much of a struggle for him.
*the term "squid" refers to riders who forego motorcycle gear. The opposite term would be ATGATT (All The Gear All The Time), where Kuai Liang is more aligned.
**having a passenger on a motorcycle drastically changes the ride because the driver and passenger need to work together in shifting their weight and balance. if a passenger cannot anticipate and go along with the driver, the execution of turns may be affected, so it is suggested that riders try to acclimate their passengers before doing any serious driving.
***motorcyclists wave at each other on the road. this is basically etiquette and a predominant, universal part of motorcycle culture. not returning a wave is considered rude by most motorcyclists. it could be described like someone coming to a party and then ignoring everybody that tries to talk to them.
#mk1#mortal kombat#bi han#tomas vrbada#kuai liang#the links are just sources for pictures that weren't already provided by the manufacturers ^^#though i intended to give bi-han a kawasaki i ended up giving him a suzuki. and i think that works too in an unintentional way#i just KNOWWW johnny gassed tomáš UP when he saw the motorcycle and honestly deserved bc its sick ITS SICK#i really love looking at shinya kimura's work... i'd suggest looking into him if anybody reads these tags hehe ^^#a lot of this is just me rambling and none of this is meant to be acommercial endorsement of any products.#i had a lot more to say but i didn't want to get too technical and in-depth about gear and bike choices for them. i just love motorcycles <#but anybody who is curious can just ask and i'd be happy to answer ^^
16 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
4furet
☼ 𓂃 ☾
kmsuga-blog
bts icons, headers and edits
bitterdrop
🌼slutSQ🍆
aubsnin
Untitled
earthsic
●○●○●