#whoops i ripped the page
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P3 Club Book pages 25-26 scan and transcription.
ポロニアンモールのモデルとなった、ビーナスフォートの噴水。較べるとホントそっくり。
モノレール内にある、各種ポスター。あやしい「猫茶」なんて商品から、路線図までさまざま。金閣寺をバックにした「二千十年、そうさ、京都行こ」なんてコピーも秀逸。左上のポスターに描かれた男女は、じつは『P3』企画段階で描かれたメインキャラの第一稿だったりする。
Qポロニアンモールやポートアイランドといった、月高生の溜まり場的場所について教えてください。
順 おう、来たな！あのあたりはオレのホームグラウンドだぜい！
チ そういえば、順平と初めて会ったのもポートアイランド駅だっけ。
順 学校もそうなんだけど、人工島にある場所は全部、「新しくできた都市」ってコンセプトで作られてるらしい。ポートアイランド駅前の柱とか、学校と一緒でギリシャ建築風でまとめられてるだろ？
チ 現美にある場所で、モデルになったところはないの？
順 ポートアイランド駅は、晴海トリトンスクウェア。ポロニアンモールは、お台場にある複合ショッピングモール、ビーナスフォートがモデルになってるんだってさ。噴水がある広場なんて、ビーナスフォートにかなりそっくりらしいぜ。ゲーム中は、ポロニアンモールの天井は見ることができねえけど、きっとビーナスフォートみたいに、青空の騙し絵とか描いてあるに違いないぞ。
チ 違いないって······順平、ポロニアンモールの天井、自分で見たことないの？
順 いやー、いつも店の中の商品とか、ゲーセンのゲームとかばっかりに気ぃ取られちまって······上なんてぜんぜん見たことなかった。
チ はぁ······綺麗だから、今度よく見てみるといいわ。
順 あ、でも下はよく見てるぜ！小銭とか落ちてるかもしれないからなっ。そういや、あそこの床って桐の葉のマークが描いてあんだよな。
チ ゲーム本編でも言ってるけど、ポロニアンってのが “桐の葉” って意味だものね。すべて、桐条グループの出資なんでしょ？そういえば、あそこってどういう企業なの？
順 ポートアイランド駅は、晴海トリトンスクウェア。ポロニアンモールは、お台場にある複合ショッピングモール、ビーナスフォートがモデルになってるんだってさ。 噴水があ る広場なんて、ビーナスフォートにかなりそっくりらしいぜ。ゲーム中は、ボロニアンモールの天井は見ることができねえけど、きっとビーナスフォートみたいに、青空の騙し絵とか描いてあるに違いないぞ。
チ 違いないって······順平、ポロニアンモールの天井、自分で見たことないの？
順 いやー、いつも店の中の商品とか、ゲーセンのゲームとかばっかりに気ぃ取られちまって······上なんてぜんぜん見たことなかった。
チ はぁ······綺麗だから、今度よく見てみるといいわ。
順 あ、でも下はよく見てるぜ！小銭とか落ちてるかもしれないからなっ。そういや、あそこの床って相の葉のマークが描いてあんだよな。
チ ゲーム本編でも言ってるけど、ボロニアンってのが“桐の葉”って意味だものね。すべて、 桐条グループの出資なんでしょ？そういえば、あそこってどういう企業なの？
順 えーと、ちょい待てよ。先輩にちゃんと教えてもらったんだ。現在の相条グループってのは、いわゆるホールディングカンパニーであらゆる分野に進出した大企業だけれど、創業当初は機械部品の製造業を営む小さな会社でし······だった、らしい。え、えっと······あとは······。
チ ······アンチョコ読むなら堂々と読みなさいよ。
順 えへへ、悪いな。で、現在中核となっているのは、機械部品製造部門が発展し、現在では最大の規模とシェアを誇る、桐条エレクトロニクスなんだと。つーことはだ。こういうショッピングモールなんかは、メインの業務のかたわらやってるってことだろ？それでこんだけ大きなモール作っちまうんだから、ホントたいしたもんだよなあ。
チ 裏でろくでもないこともやってたんだけどね。
順 まあ、先輩がグループ代表になれば、そういうのもなくなる。
チ だと、いいけどね······。
Qポートアイランド駅のはずれには、天田の家があったということですが、具体的にどの家がそうなんですか？
順 天田も大変だったよなあ。オレも聞いた話だから詳しくは知らねえんだけど、シャドウが暴れたのと荒垣先輩のペルソナ暴走で、家は全壊しちまってそのまんま。今は駐車場になっちまった���しい。ゲーム中のマップで言うと、画面の下の方。荒垣先輩がいつも座ってる場所の、真正面に当たる駐車場が、その跡地になるらしい。そっか······先輩いつも、あそこ見てたんだ······。うう、やるせないぜえ。
Qポートアイランド駅と、巌戸台駅を結ぶ新都市交通「あねはづる」は、具体的にどういう路線なの？
順 オレらがいつも通学に使ってるモノレールだな？あれは私鉄で、経営母体はまたもや桐条グループ。人工島の辰巳地区ができてからの、新しい路線つーわけだ。
チ この2駅間を往復するだけの路線なの？途中に駅は？
順 巌戸台とポートアイランドの中間にはほかの駅はなし。だけど、その2駅だけを往復する短線以外にも、巌戸台を超えてさらに先まで行く、直通列車もあるぜ。そうだな、陸のほうを東西に走っている路線があねはづる本線で、巌戸台一ポートアイランド間は単なる分ってわけだ。駅の表示をよーく見ると、すんごい小さいけど付近の路線図があるのが分かるんじゃねえかな？
チ もしかしてオープニングムービーで、順平のところの本物リーダーが乗ってた電車って······。
順 そうだな、あれがあねはづるの本線ってことになるよな。つか、わざわざ「本物」って言うなつーの。
Q巌戸台近辺は、ポートアイランド側とくらべて雰囲気がずいぶん落ち着いてますが、実在のモデルは？
順 確かに落ち着いてて馴染みやすい街だもんな。これは、かなり本物と似てるんだぜ～。
チ やっぱりモデルがあるの？
順 駅前側は、ゆりかもめの新橋駅前がモデル。美術スタッフの取材の成果がバッチリって感じだぜ。で、商店街側のモデルは、JR新橋駅前のとあるビルなどを参考にしたらしい。詳しいビル名は内緒だけど、戸台と同じようにたくさん店が入ったビルがあって、そこにある「つばめグリル」って店は、キャラクターデザインの副島さんオススメの店だと。くぅ～、食ってみてえ！
チ 巌戸台といえば、駅前でいつも工事をやってるわよね？あれはいつになったら完成するの？
順 あー、あそこはな、多分しばらくは完成しないんじゃねえかなあ。
チ 工事が中断してるの？
順 駅前再開発で、また色々な店ができるはずだったんだけどさ、地面掘り返してたら埋蔵金が出てきちまったらしいんだ。遺跡とか埋まってたら工事できないから現在調査中。
順 ああ······オレのまだ見ぬトンカツよ、ハンバーグよ、カレーライスよ！早く出ておいで~。
チ って、期待してると、ブティックとかアクセサリー屋とかしかできなかったりするのよね。
順 うおっ、ありうる······。
Q巌戸台には、あずきちゃんや、ワイルダック、あと名前がわからない謎のヒーローなど色々なマスコットがいますが、詳細が知りたいです。
順 おお、通好みの質問だな？つか、細かいところまで見てるな~。
チ あずきちゃんには、企画段階ではテーマソングがあったって聞いたんだけど、本当？
順 ホントなんだよこれが。つかテーマソングつーより······呪文？調べると延々と、「あーずきしゃきしゃき、あーずきしょかしょか」って歌い続けるという······。
チ 都市伝説みたいね······。
順 まあ、ボツってありがたいような聞いてみたかったような。
チ ワイルダックはわりと目立ってるし、まあマスコットキャラ以上の隠し設定はなさそうだけど、その構にいるビニール人形は？
順 あれこそが、ワイルダックバー ガーから生まれた次世代ヒーロー！その名も、ワイルドヒーロー！世界を股にかける彼の活躍が銀幕で見られる、映画『ワイルドヒーローネバーダイ』近日公開予定！
チ ······今、作って言ってるんじゃないでしょうね？
順 んなことねえって！ほら、モノレールの中に貼ってあるポスタ一見てみろよ。
チ あ、映画のポスター······本物？
順 そーいうこと。
チ 凝っているというか、スタッフの人も暇と言うか。
順 それは言わねえでくれ······。
Q巌戸台商店街の左隣にある空き地は、不動産屋の看板が調べられますが、ここは何か意味があるの？
順 おっと、これは際どい質問が来やがったなー？
チ ん？何際どいの？
順 じつはこの看板、とあるボツになったイベントに関わってるものなのだよ、チドリくん。
チ ボツイベント？
順 企画の初期段階でな、ボロニアンモールに宝くじ売り場を置くって案があって、最高で3億当たる予定だったんだと。ただ、いくら大金もらっても、使い道がないとユーザーも面白くないだろ？だから、もし1等を当てたら、あの看板の不動産屋で土地と家が買える、ってイベントがあったわけよ。残して欲しかったよなあ······寮より自由な、門限も何もない自由な生活！
チ 主人公君にしか当たらないんだから関係ないでしょ？
順 くそっ、女は夢がねえぜ。
Q聞くのも恥ずかしいですが、白河町のラブホテルはモデルがあるのですか？もしかして······スタッフの方は取材に行ったりしたんですか？
順 おお、オレと同じ魂の輝きを持つ人からの質問だぜっ！
チ ······さいてー。
順 い、いや、これはあくまで男のロマン······。
チ ······さいてー。
順 しくしくしくしくしく。
真田明彦 (以下「真」) という訳で、邪な心に流されないこの俺が、ここから順平に替わって説明しよう。
チ ······どこから湧いたのこの人？
桐条美鶴 (以下「美」) 明彦、 様はもう少しぐらい、煩悩を増やしたほうがいいと思うのだが。朴念仁も過ぎると害だぞ？
チ もしかしてあなたたち、ずっと出番待ってた、とか？
真 さて、さっそく質問に回答していこうじゃないか！
チ ······図星。
美 で、白河町のモデルは何だ？
真 まあ待て、美鶴。ここは、ちょっと他の場所とは違って、じつに粋な形でモデルを選んでるんだ。まず白河通りという地名の由来は、飛騨高山にある白川郷なんだ。
美 白川郷というと、世界遺産の合掌造りの民家で有名な？ラブホテル街とまったく関係ないじゃないか。
真 ところが、関係あるんだよ。白川郷近郊では、昭和初期に連続したダム建設の影響で、水没する村が続出することとなった。だが、そこで白川郷を追われた村人たちは、ど こへ行ったと思う？彼らは、東京の渋谷へと住処を移し、新たな生活を始めたんだ。さらに詳しく言うと、移住先は渋谷の、円山町だ。
美 円山町というと、確か東京でも有名なラブホテル街のひとつ······なるほど、エクセレントだ明彦！
真 そう、白河通りのモデルは渋谷の円山町、そして地名の由来は現在の円山町を支える人々のルーツ白川郷。そんな、奥の深い理由で白河 通りのラブホテル街はできている んだ。ちなみに、直接取材には行かず、インターネットのサイトをあちこち見て、内装とかは作ったそうだ。
チ 変なテンション······。大丈夫かな······この人たち······。
順 感動したっ！！
チ わ、順平っ？
順 感動したっすよ、真田先輩っ！
真 そうか、わかるか順平！
順 この感動���分かち合うため、今また先輩取り巻きの女の子連れて、白河通りに行きましょうっ！！
真 ああ、いいとも順平！
美 ······ブフダイン。
チ ······ガルーラジェム。
美 敵は総崩れだ！一掃する！
チ 分かりやすすぎだよ、順平。(ボカスカボカスカボカスカ······)
真・順 ご、ごめんなさい······。
美・チ 分かれば、よろしい。
よく見ると、ちゃんと「3億円」と売値 が書かれている。
影時間にしか行けないラブホテル。コミュイベントなどで、行く日を夢見た人も多いかも？
#persona 3#p3#p3 club book#spoilers#whoops i ripped the page#most of the transcription was done by google now#i checked over it so im actually pretty confident its right#if not the scans are there now
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this is ioril from my out of the abyss campaign! he's a Teen Elf drow wizard and he's atrocious.
ioril dreamed of being a proper wizard, but drow men weren't allowed to do that, unless they were from a particular family. between this, how his sister was treated as a priestess of lolth, and his family house's political downfall, he was radicalized and dedicated himself to changing drow society. he holed up in a tower to illegally study magic and write his manifesto, spending most of his 43 young years there.
when his manifesto was completed, he intended to post it on the gates of every city he passed on his way to menzobarrenzan. he made it as far as the next town over before he was captured and sentenced to death. he was 100% ready to "die for the cause," but some topsiders sharing his cell suggested that if he helped them escape, they could take him with him to the surface, where he could learn about this thing called "the sun"....
my boy had zero social skills on account of the tower thing and being a drow, and he had a hard time understanding while his "Men's Rights!!" beliefs were...... not well received by his surface-dwelling friends. being a Teen Drow, he was abrasive and implusive, but endlessly curious and excited about things like cool-looking spells or impressive physical feats. he was also terrifically lonely and was not really sure of what a "friend" is, exactly, though he quickly decided all his party members were his best friends ever.
anyway this is all past tense because he fucking blew himself up today and died oops
#dnd#dnd5e#dnd ocs#drow#elfposting#ioril#he's an expy of my morrowind nerevarine#and his Secret Backstory is totally not the plot of morrowind shhhhh#rip this dork. he was so fun to play#at least now i get to write another 23 pages of Elf Lore for my next character#the banner just says 'house vandree' and then 'revendran'#as house revendran used to be part of house vandree until they split off bc of ioril's sister's rise to power#until it all fell apart anyway. whoops
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Oh, y'all thought the fight had started already?
My Familiar’s Ghost part 51
Masterpost
New pages on Patreon!
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: 1a. Close up of bat Nandor from Guillermo’s POV, crushed into a wall and held there by Guillermo’s hand. One of Guillermo’s claws has pierced the membrane of his wing and Nandor is clutching at his fingers in terror, staring up with wide, panicked eyes. 1b. Reverse shot of vampire Guillermo from Nandor’s POV, holding him down with his left hand as his right rears back, claws bared in preparation to strike. He is grinning maliciously, relishing in a new kill. 1c. Wide shot from the side as there is a sudden screech of tires and crash of metal. Guillermo and Nandor freeze in place and whip their heads toward the viewer and the front windows of the Panera.
2a. Wide shot from outside, on a roadway running up a hill and parallel to the Panera. A blue hatchback car with a license plate that says ‘whoops’ and a bumper sticker that says ‘how’s my driving? 1-800-KISS-IT’ has crashed into a pole with a yellow traffic light and is smoking, front end crumpled and passenger window shattered. The pole is slowly falling sideways, towards the Panera parking lot below. 2b. Close up as the traffic light, yellow light still lit, smashes into the asphalt, cracking the green lens and ripping the blinders off the red lens. 2c. Repeat. The traffic light settles on its side, mostly intact, and flips to red. Unfocused without the blinders, red light pours freely across the ground. Nearly invisible red text behind reads “stop stop stop stop”. 2d. Repeat of 2c, Guillermo and Nandor still frozen in place but now bathed in red light. Guillermo is narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the scene outside and Nandor nervously flicks his eyes over to him, assessing.
3a. The entire Panera is now flooded in red. Shot from behind the pillar Nandor is pinned to as his leg, now human shaped again, kicks forcefully upward, sending Guillermo flying backward into the opposite wall, demolishing the sheetrock and destroying a wooden chair in the process. Debris flies everywhere. 3b. Waist up of Nandor, back in human form, as he stands himself up, his inner arm bleeding. He snarls angrily and points an accusing finger at Guillermo, saying ‘You want to fight? Fine! The truth is, I have been upset with you, too!’ 3c. Reverse shot of Guillermo struggling out of the ass-sized hole he made in the wall, fangs bared and deadly gaze focused on Nandor. Nandor continues from offscreen: ‘You get so angry when I don’t know things about you but then you don’t tell me anything!’ 3d. Close up on Guillermo’s hand closing around a broken wooden chair leg. 3e. Close up on Nandor’s hand closing around a wooden chair leg as he accuses, ‘You keep secrets!’
4a. Full body of Guillermo lifting himself from a crouch in the debris left by the wall, a long stake with a shattered pointy end clutched in his left hand. His eyes, like a predator, never leave Nandor. Nandor keeps talking: ‘You assume to know what I am thinking and how I will react to things and what I will say - well you don’t.’ 4b. Knees up of Nandor as he steps away from the crushed pillar to a more strategic place against the light, holding his own long stake point-up like a readied sword in front of him. He stares seriously at Guillermo and says, ‘You hear, but you never listen, Guillermo.’ 4c. Extreme close up on Nandor’s glaring eyes trailing a slash of red light as he makes a quick turn, shouting, ‘Well you will listen to me now!’ 4d. Full body wide shot on an orange and yellow starburst background as Guillermo, both hands on his makeshift sword, takes a backswing at Nandor. Nandor’s sword meets him in the middle as he swings it down single-handed in perfect form. Their eyes never leave the other’s; they’re both in the fight now. /end ID
[caption]
Bonus ID: shot through the shattered front windshield of the crashed car to show Laszlo in the passenger seat and Colin behind the wheel, both covered in broken glass and peeking out from behind inflated airbags. Colin asks, glasses askew on his face and grinning in his usual unflappable way, ‘How was that, Lazzo?’ Laszlo smiles patiently over at Colin and asks, ‘Marvelous work, my boy! Now, what possessed you to aim for this particular traffic signal?’ Colin replies, ‘I dunno, just had a feeling. Can we go for that Escalade next? I really want to see how sensitive that pedestrian detection feature is.’ The engine continues to smoke, and there are a few wisps of familiar blue light trailing away. /end ID
#wwdits#my familiars ghost#nandermo#mlm#vampire guillermo#guillermo de la cruz#nandor the relentless#laszlo cravensworth#colin robinson#dadszlo#what we do in the shadows#what we do in the shadows fx#my art#fanart#fan comic#image described
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Been looking through your assorted aus page and the link for "weird amnesia Timberkon"/"for the game young" is broken (as in, the tag does not appear to exist). It seems like you put a lot of time into that page so I figured you'd want to know (and also selfishly I am very interested in finding out what weird amnesia timberkon entails)
WHOOPS, my bad, messed that one up. Should be all fixed on the page now, though!
Oddly I only seem to have one teeny lil' snippet up for that AU, to my surprise, could've sworn I'd posted more? Sooooo as thanks for catching that busted link for me, have a nice big chunk of the WIP behind this read-more, hah.
So Superboy is apparently an idiot. Then again, whatever, if Bernard were an indestructible telekinetic half-alien he would probably also not worry too much about looking subtle in his civvies or maintaining a secret identity, and also it's been a while since he's heard anything about the guy doing any active superheroing anyway so maybe Superboy is just assuming that the entire planet somehow forgot about his teen heartthrob superhero posters and all those close-up high-def publicity shots of his very public face and whatever? Oh, and also that one time that he literally fucking died to save the whole freaking world and the big ol' memorial statue. Statues? There might've been two, come to think.
So maybe an idiot.
A very hot idiot, though.
Well, whatever, Bernard figures, taking a sip of his boba tea and idly watching Superboy check out his boyfriend from the far side of the cafe like he's a sad puppy in a shop window who just wants a little love. Tim is looking at his phone and appears oblivious to Superboy's existence.
Bernard assumes Tim's doing that thing where he pretends to not be Robin, for obvious reasons. That thing remains adorable but is getting increasingly less convincing as time goes on. Like, he really doesn't know what Tim actually thinks he thinks he does in his downtime? There is no logical reason for a civilian to be either as ripped or as scarred as Tim Drake is, but part of being Tim Drake's boyfriend is pretending to be oblivious to those facts and also never questioning his flimsy excuses to run off at a moment's notice or disappear during a crisis or whatever else.
Bernard tries to figure out how to politely extricate himself from the situation for long enough for Tim to go check up on Superboy, because Superboy very clearly needs to be checked up on. Unfortunately he went to the bathroom like ten minutes before the guy walked in all sad-puppy so the obvious option is out, and Tim knows damn well he isn't gonna call his parents for anything less than a full-on emergency, and his friends it'd be weird not to just text, and . . . fuck, he doesn't know. He needs an angle here.
"I'll be right back, babe, just gotta duck into the bathroom real quick," Tim says, glancing up from his phone with an apologetic smile. Bernard relaxes slightly. Okay, that works, thank you, Bat-planning. Superboy can just follow Tim back to the bathroom and they can do whatever superhero sidebar they need to do back there.
But then Tim gets up, gives him a peck on the cheek, and heads back to the bathroom, and Superboy . . . doesn't follow him.
The hell?
Bernard represses a frown and takes another sip of his boba. Superboy continues not to follow Tim. He just sits there at his own little table with his completely untouched drink, looking like the saddest puppy that has ever sadded.
Bernard is mystified.
Are they having a fight, maybe? Is Tim ignoring Superboy because of that, not the secret ID stuff? That seems weird and not very Tim-like, fighting or not. But Superboy's in Gotham and came into the cafe after they did, so he can't be the one avoiding Tim. But also he didn't follow him to the bathroom when presented with the very unsubtle opportunity to do so, so . . . what the hell?
Weird.
Bernard takes yet another sip of boba and keeps watching Superboy. Superboy seems oblivious to said watching, but he guesses the guy is pretty famous and is a very public superhero and is always doing impressive shit and all that, so he's probably used to being watched. Oh, and also he's stupid, stupid hot.
Bernard cannot imagine being this used to attention, but apparently Superboy is. Bernard, of course, is not a punk idol superhero built like a porn star and a supermodel had a threeway with a bodybuilder. So like, that particular bit of mental dissonance probably makes sense and all. Life experiences are not universal, and all that.
Especially not when the life experience one is comparing oneself to started in a cloning tube.
Well, it's not like it's a burden for Bernard to have a free pass on checking out a hottie while he waits for Tim to come back from, presumably, waiting for Superboy to come and talk to him. Which Superboy is just . . . not doing, still. Inexplicably.
Still, sad puppy or not, Superboy's civvies look damn good on him, so that's something. Bernard's enjoying them, like as an aesthetic experience and everything. Superboy's wearing an unbuttoned red flannel shirt with rolled-up sleeves over a very tight black tank top and even tighter light wash skinny jeans that are bafflingly intact, considering the fact that a dude with Kryptonian-level super-strength is currently vacuum-sealed into them.
Does tactile telekinesis work on skinny jeans? Is that a thing? Like, are Superboy's jeans currently indestructible?
That sounds amazing, actually.
Also, those buckled-up black leather boots he's wearing look like they could straight-up kill a dude, Kryptonian power-assist or not. And the shiny mirrored sunglasses and ridiculous multitude of even shinier gold piercings all suit the guy, somehow, and even without looking like too much.
Relatedly, Superboy's tank top is very, very tight.
Also relatedly, his nipples are apparently pierced.
And so is his belly button, it looks like.
Ngh.
Superboy's vacuum-sealed jeans are not quite tight enough for Bernard to figure out if he's got any below the spike-studded belt piercings, but his imagination is happy to fill in the blanks there. He's tempted to ask for Tim's theories on the existence of any such piercings, because yeah Superboy has super-hearing but Bernard has no shame and Tim logically should know, buuuuut he's still pretending not to know Tim is Robin so yeah, probably he shouldn't do that.
He could start a new conspiracy board for it, maybe. That'd be fun.
Superboy also has leather cuffs on his wrists and mismatched rings and necklaces and a really hot fade haircut that is noticeably windswept, and really, really looks like something that Bernard would like to see somebody dig their fingers into. Just–look, there's curls. Bernard cannot be blamed for curls.
And he's trying not to eye the cuff bracelets too much, but they provide very nice inspiration for a certain style of kinky thoughts. Not that Superboy couldn't snap basically any set of cuffs that wasn't made of kryptonite or promethium or like a magical kryptonite-promethium alloy or whatever without even trying, obviously, but like, somehow the thought of the guy having to restrain himself more than anything else makes the whole mental image hotter? Like, somehow?
Bernard pictures Superboy wearing a pair of cheap flimsy sex toy handcuffs and trying very, very hard to keep himself in them while someone else takes very careful inventory of all his piercings, wherever and whatever they all just so happen to be.
Jesus. Yeah, there's a thought.
Is it weird to consider flirting up your boyfriend's superhero bestie while he's badly pretending to be a civilian, Bernard wonders? Is that a thing?
Probably, but he still has no shame and is also in an open relationship, so whatever.
Hell, who knows, in retrospect maybe Tim actually arranged this setup specifically for Bernard to get an eyeful of his work crush. Like, Bernard always felt like Robin and Superboy had some significant UST going back in the day. Maybe Tim wants to finally do something about that, and the setup idea sounds like a very "Bat" approach to doing said something. And it'd explain why Superboy didn't follow Tim to the bathroom and maybe even why he's coming across kind of anxious right now, if he's trying to psych himself up to come over or something. Like, if he's nervous about making a good impression, though Bernard cannot imagine why he ever would be. Well, not like Supers are known for their undercover skills, so . . .
Either way, if that's the plan, Bernard is very fine with it, so he decides to go find out for himself and picks up his drink to head over and chat the guy up. Worst case scenario, he’s just gotten his hopes up a little, he figures. Best case, he’s putting Superboy out of his “oh god, how do I do undercover” misery.
"Mind if I sit?" he asks, and flashes Superboy a grin as he gestures at the empty seat at the other half of his table. Superboy looks weirdly startled, like he somehow expected to go unnoticed despite being a literal superhero who is also unspeakably hot and is also wearing very, very tight clothes that he's this close to busting out of. Like, at least half a dozen girls are actively checking him out right now, as is the dude behind the counter and the old guy on the sidewalk outside who’s busy badly pretending to be reading the outdoor menu board instead of checking out Superboy’s ass through the front window.
So yeah, Bernard really does not understand that apparent assumption.
Come to think, maybe Superboy has some self-esteem issues or something. Bernard admittedly might also have self-esteem issues if he were Superman's clone. Then again, if he were Superman's clone, he would look like Superman and also be very aware of how Superman himself looks, sooooo . . .
Seriously, "younger and sexier punk rock Superman" is not a vibe that Bernard can imagine going ignored all that often. Or ever.
“Uh–what?” Superboy says.
“I’ve been temporarily abandoned by my boyfriend and I’m easily bored,” Bernard clarifies politely, though obviously Superboy was staring at Tim long enough to have noticed said abandonment the moment it happened. “So, mind if I sit?”
“I–sure?” Superboy says, looking nervous. Bernard puts another tally in the “too bad at undercover work to follow the Bat-plan” column. Whatever, the guy’s trying his best, he’s not gonna judge him.
There's a pin on the inside of Superboy’s flannel, Bernard notices as the other shifts awkwardly in his seat, and is vaguely puzzled by the sight of it. Like, it's just a little thing and he doubts he'd have even seen it if he weren't in this close to the guy, but . . .
Just–yeah. Little pin. Just like a cheap little round button, like the kind that comes out of the dollar bin at all sorts of random stores. And it's hidden inside Superboy's flannel, mostly, but it's definitely got the S-shield on it.
Bernard is perplexed. Even in Gotham, it's not like it's weird to see people wearing Superman merch. So like, why is Superboy hiding that?
“Cool,” he says as he files that away as a little oddity, and takes the empty seat. Superboy continues to look nervous. Bernard continues to work on figuring out if his weird Bat-boyfriend who he’s not supposed to know is a Bat set him up on a blind date with his superhero bestie. The nervousness supports the theory, anyway.
Man, this dude really is even prettier up close. How was he Tim’s bisexual awakening with this guy around and in close quarters with him? Like, he’s flattered, don’t get him wrong, but also maybe Tim has some vision problems and he should get that checked out before it inconveniences his nightlife.
"Sooooo like . . . what do I call you?" Bernard asks, peering across the table at him curiously. "Because the obvious option seems like a bad idea, obviously.”
"‘The obvious option’?" Superboy stops looking nervous long enough to look confused instead.
"Yeah?" Bernard says, cocking his head. Superboy cannot possibly think he’s being subtle here, so . . . "I mean, I assume you don't go by 'Superboy' when you're dressed like that. Like, that's the whole point of being dressed like that, right?"
Superboy stares blankly at him. Bernard cocks his head the other way, now officially the confused one.
"What?" Superboy says.
"Okay, sorry, this is the thing where you-know-who still insists on pretending he's not Robin, isn't it," Bernard realizes, which he really should've realized would be a thing from the start. He supposes that makes sense even with Superboy’s total lack of subtlety, though, superheroes probably do have to really commit to that thing. Especially ones who work for Batman and Superman. Or . . . just around Superman, maybe? Bernard is not fully clear on that particular superhero hierarchy. "My bad. So, uh, what do I call you, because there is obviously no obvious option. Obviously.”
"You . . . recognize me?" Superboy croaks.
"Uh," Bernard says, brow furrowing in bemusement at the very weird expression the guy's currently wearing. "Yes? No offense, you're kind of recognizable. Like, do you even have a secret identity? I mean, you're a clone, right, and I know you were just doing the full-time hero thing in at least Hawaii, so I actually have no idea if you ever bothered making one up or not?”
"You recognize me," Superboy chokes, just staring at him, and then bursts into tears.
. . . well, that can't be good.
#timberkon#timbern#bernard dowd#kon el#conner kent#tim drake#superboy#dc robin#wip: weird amnesia timberkon#long post#anonymous#rinfic
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A Birthday to Remember
Aged up characters!! All in college!! Contains strong language, sexual content, drugs, alcohol and a lot of partying!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY KENNY!! YOU ARE MY COMFORT CHARACTER AND I LOVE YOU!!
Ps my request are open guys so send me my way!
"Same shit different day as far as I'm concerned, dudes." Kenny sighed, his birthday was something he never did much for.
"But dude, it's your eighteenth! You're only this young once! We gotta go celebrate!" Kyle explained, patting his friend on the back.
Birthdays were a weird subject for Kenny. To him it was just another day, he never got gifts or cards or showered with affection, his family would've gave him a verbal happy birthday and that was about it. The only people who always gave him something were Karen, his friends and y/n. I mean, he was reborn every time he died, so was it even really his birthday anymore?
He just didn't get the hype, if it was someone else's birthday, that was completely different, but Kenny had hardly celebrated any of his birthdays, so why start now?
However, if birthday wishes were real, which he highly doubted, then maybe he'd finally be able to call you his girlfriend. For two years you guys had been friends with benefits on and off, and it meant everything to Kenny. He loves holding your body close to his, smelling your scent on his pillow after you'd left, he loved it, he loved you, but he was terrified you would reject him and you would no longer want to be around him, he didn't want to weird you out and push you away from whatever the fuck this relationship was, so he was happy enough to be your fuck buddy, if it meant he could at least pretend you were both together.
You stood in your room, putting the finishing touches on Kenny's gift, you had made him a scrap book, full of photos of you both, screen shots of your group chats with inside jokes and funny statements in it, bus tickets from when you guys took a trip further afield, the ticket stumps from the cinema when you both went to see that shitty horror movie together that was more of a comedy than anything and finally a flower, the very same one Kenny picked for you when you were young, you had pressed and preserved it perfectly. You sprayed the last page with your perfume and placed a kiss beside it, along with a picture of you both hugging one another and a proposition for him written in your cursive writing. You planned to give it to him at the end of the night.
You finished to get ready, your makeup and hair ready as your hands smoothed over your outfit. You knew Kenny's eyes would pop from his brain when he seen you. You wore a lace, black corset top and a checked pleaded skirt that stopped just below your ass, fishnet tights on your legs and a pair of black high heel boots.
Kyle: We're all headed to the club now, meet you guys outside
Y/N: I'm just about to leave mine, see y'all soon!
You put your phone into your leather jacket pocket, touched up your red lipstick and took two shots of vodka before putting the scrapbook into your large handbag, and leaving the house.
The walk to the club was pretty short, and as you approached you heard all your friends laughing and shouting outside. You smiled to yourself, before seeing Kenny. He didn't have his orange parka on, he wore a flannel shirt and a band tee with blue ripped skinny jeans. You swore your breath caught in your throat as you made your way over to the group.
Kenny's eyes widened upon seeing you, between the cleavage you were showing and how short your skirt was, he didn't know where to look.
"Damn, girl! You look fucking hot!" He exclaimed, his hands then clutching his mouth as he realised what he had just said out loud in front of everyone.
"Thank, Kenny." You said, a small smile on your face your cheeks hot due to how much you were blushing.
"Come on! Let's get in there and get our party on!" Stan shouted, your large group of friends whooping and cheering in response as you all made your way inside.
The nightclub was huge, dark black walls with lights and lasers flashing everywhere, and a mixture of cringey 2000s throwbacks and dance music drummed through your ears.
You went straight to the bar to get drinks, feeling an arm snake around your waist from behind you. You knew it was Kenny, you knew his touch from anywhere.
"You gonna let me see what's under those clothes later, hmm?" He whispered into your ear, a smirk planted firmly on his face as you turned to look at him.
"If you play you cards right then maybe I will. Since it's you're birthday." You teased back, ordering both of you a large vodka and red bull each.
"Happy birthday, welcome to the eighteen club." You purred as Kenny placed a kiss on your cheek.
"In return for buying me a drink, I've got a fat ass blunt rolled, would you care to join me in a smoke?" He said, bowing, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it.
"Well, since you asked so nicely." You replied, a smile on your face as you both made your way to the smoking area, your friends were already on their way to being tipsy, and you guys had some serious catching up to do.
You both giggled, sipping at your drinks and passing the blunt between you both, Kenny's arm wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you close to his side. He didn't trust other guys, especially in nightclubs, and with you looking like a full three course meal, he was going to make sure you were protected from any creeps that may be out there.
"I can't wait to give you your present later." You blurted out, the excitement of seeing his face getting too much for you.
Before he could inquire further you both heard your names being called.
"Y/N! KENNY! OUR SONG IS ON!" It was Stan and Kyle, jumping up and down, waving their hands in the air.
"LETS GO DANCE!" They shouted in unison, you both laughing at your friends.
You took Kenny's hand in yours, leading him to the dance floor inside. The place was buzzing, people taking drugs, those so drunk they were skipping the queue for the bathroom so they didn't throw their guts up on the dance floor, or on someone else!
Kenny swore you looked angelic, as your hips began moving, his own joining in, your bodies close to one another. He swore if this kept up he'd be skipping the queue for the bathroom too, but not to puke, to finish himself off before the torment of watching you dance and grind up against him became too much.
"You're such a fucking tease, Princess. And you know how I feel about teasing." Kenny growled lowly in your ear, his voice making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, god if you could take him right now you would, but not before giving him his gift.
Mr Brightside was playing as you all sang along, Kyle shouting for you all at the bar.
"To friends, relationships and having awesome lives together!" He shouted as you all agreed.
"CHEERS!" You all shouted, downing the shot of Sambuca he had bought for you all.
You all quickly made your way back to the dance floor, you all danced together, laughing and giggling all the while.
"Hey, when am I getting my present?" Kenny cooed in your ear, a smirk on his face.
"As soon as we get home." You replied nonchalantly, shooting him a wink. You had just confirmed that you were in fact bringing him back to your dorm room with you, and that could only mean one thing.
"I'm excited." He teased, both his hands on your hips as you both danced together.
"Hey guys, wanna do some drugs?" Eric asked, you both rolling your eyes.
"And where did you get drugs, fat boy?" Kyle snickered, Stan laughing at his comment.
"I got ecstasy off that guy over there." He said pointing to a guy who was in the middle of a drug deal, all of your faces dropping.
"Fuck it, I'm game." Kenny replied as Eric handed him a pink and purple pill.
"Happy fuckin' birthday to me!" Kenny exclaimed before popping the pill in his mouth and gulping down the rest of his drink, and the rest of you followed.
About an hour after you had all ingested your first ecstasy pill and all of you were beyond fucked up. Drinking straight vodka like it was water, shots were far too easy and you guys had smoked two full packets of cigarettes, even Kyle who didn't smoke was smoking like he was an everyday user. Kenny's weed didn't last long either, all of you passing blunts around like it was nothing.
"Dude, have I ever told you how much I fucking love you?" Stan said to Kyle, both of them proclaiming how much they all loved each other and you thought that maybe this was the time for Kenny's gift.
You opened your bag, your vision feeling blurry like everything was going too quickly. And you pulled out the orange and blue scrapbook you had made just for him.
It said on the front of it, 'Y/n and Kenny's crazy adventures' and you smiled as you tapped Kenny on the shoulder.
He broke his conversation with Eric and looked at you, his eyes widening as he seen you holding out a book to him.
"Is this my gift?" He asked, a smile on his face. Kyle and Stan moved closer to see what it was as Eric did the same.
He began flipping through the pages, his smile never faltering once. Pictures of you both when you were kids, dressed up as super heroes, princesses, you name it, it was in there. Pictures of all of you together, all of you smiling in silence as he neared the last page,by our heartbeat increasing.
He landed on the last page, a picture of you both cuddled in bed together after the first time you had both hooked up together, and you'd lost your virginity to him, along with all the other little momentos you had kept. His eyes scanned the words that adorned the page, his cheeks turning bright red.
"Is that even a question? Of course I'll go out with you! I've been wanting to ask you forever, I just thought you didn't like me like that!" Kenny rambled, pulling you into a tight hug, you flush against his chest as you leaned up to place a chaste kiss on his lips.
"I never told you but... in that photo there." You said, pointing to the one of you both in bed.
"You took my virginity." You said, your own cheeks bright red now, as his eyes widened at you, your friends already gone back to talking about a lot of random shit.
"Seriously? I was your first?" He asked, his ego being boosted by the second.
"You were my first, you're my everything, Ken. I love you. I always have, I just knew you didn't like labels and I didn't want you to put a stop to us hooking up because my feelings got the better of me." You said, being completely honest with him, you were never as glad to get it off your chest as you were now.
"I was scared to admit to you for the same reasons." He said lowly, a smile fixed firmly on his face.
"Come here, gimme a kiss." He said, his arms wrapping round your waist once more, both of your lips meeting in a flurry of passion.
This really was the best birthday that Kenny had ever had, and he would cherish it forever, just like he vowed from that moment on to cherish you forever too, and never ever let you go. Not in life or in death.
#kenny mccormick#kenny mccormick smut#kenny mccormick x reader#kenny south park#eric cartman#stan marsh#kyle brovlofski#stan south park#kyle south park#south park
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GETTING TO KNOW YOUR EDDIE
— the 411 on the loser playboy of the midwestern world
Tagged by @jo-harrington & @deathbecomesthem who got this stunning prompt on the road, love this love youse
let’s talk MUNSON!
What story is he from? What kind of story is it (Fix-it fic, Older!Eddie, Rockstar!Eddie etc)? The Eddie darling that takes up prime real estate in my brain is of course Hellfire & Ice Eddie, which is a teen romantic-dramadey with sprinkles of crime capers on top. We meet him at 18 years of age, drug dealin’, Dungeon wheelin’, at the absolute top of his bottom of the food chain game. He’s all raw nerve and engine sputter, our consummate not ready for prime time player. He is brassy, ballsy, funny, terrified.
What inspired you to write this Eddie? Flight of Icarus, actually! It reignited my initial love for him by basically confirming what I had already known to be true—he’s a little bitch that’ll take any opportunity to be struck down lovesick and he’s doomed by his bloodline.
What are your favorite headcanons about him/share something you never shared in your story? Eddie runs on a full tank of defiance, just burning rubber against what’s expected of kids his age—but to zoom in? Eddie sometimes wonders what it would be like if he was different. Tried harder. Cut his hair, joined the basketball team, really pulled himself up by his bootstraps and divorced himself from his stain of a last name. Folded in and blended, made all the right moves. Why couldn’t I do that? he thinks, Just pretend. I’m good at making shit up. But that’s selling out. And Eddie Munson is no sell out—rap sheet or no, his life is his own.
What does he wear on a casual day? On a dressier day? What does he wear to bed? Casual day, it’s your cartoon character stock costume of insert band t-shirt here, ripped jeans there, doubled up battle vest and leather cut to top it all off. There might be a variant in jean shade but that’s it. He likes to stick to a look. The dressiest he’ll go (he does not own dressy clothes) is a black cable knit sweater, very old, with the thumb holes worried through the cuffs. To bed, preferably nothing, but boxers of absolutely necessary and a very old, ratty pair of flannel PJ bottoms and an old t-shirt or a faded sweatshirt of Wayne’s if it’s freezing.
Favorite foods? This FUCK loves a pizza with the most fuckass toppings. Anchovy, black olive, pepperoni, sweetcorn (for the vitamins!), pineapple (for the jizz thing!) all on the one pie. But he can cook, to an extent, and we unfortunately have to hand this to ex-line cook Al who taught him how to grill a cheese and make a bitchin’ spaghetti with honeyed tomato gravy and lots of oregano. Eddie also loves a snack he can gesticulate with, see: Twizzler, corn dog, ice pop. Bordering on phallic foods.
Tell Us About His Family/Friends: Immediately in the gene pool—Al, the absent and up-to-no-good father who somehow still has a knife in Eddie’s side and will twist it with the simple words, “C’mon, that’s my boy!” Wayne, uncle and father figure, silent but loving and the only real pillar Eddie could ever lean against, and he feels like such a burden for it sometimes. Elizabeth, mommy dearest and dead, canonised like a saint in Eddie’s mind, and might have been but also might not have been. The root of his love of music and his need to tell stories to survive. The found-by-the-hand-of fate family— Ronnie Ecker, the Stalter to his Waldorf, the Bonham to his Page, the only person he’d ever follow into battle because you wouldn’t think it but Ronnie, who is secretly rage akimbo, would accidentally lead that charge. He loves her like a sister, she loves him like a dog. Just kidding. Maybe. He wants to be Ronnie Ecker when he grows up. Granny Ecker comes as part of this deal, one of the people credited with whooping Eddie into shape. We don’t quite know what shape yet, it’s Picassoan in nature. Then, the extension again that is the great Corroded Coffin/Hellfire crossover event—Jeff, Cyrus, Dougie and Gareth. He’s not quite as close with the boys, but they’re good boys. They love and fear him, except for Cyrus who is a true enigma which pisses Eddie off because he’s supposed to be the fucking enigma here, dammit.
Yeah Yeah, he's a Metalhead. Tell Us MORE About His Taste in Music in your story: We are working off Flight of Icarus rules so he’s got a taste in the mouth for Howlin’ Wolf style blues, real down and dirty Detroit shit. He also loves a sleazeball, so enter Tom Waits and when he’s feeling REALLY sentimental, Leonard Cohen. Eddie loves to bite a thumb so he has some punk spinning too—Richard Hell, MC5, The Cramps, and reluctantly Iggy and the Stooges. They’re Al’s favourite so kind of tainted. Last but not least, I think that Johnny Cash’s Live From Folsom Prison album gets a lot of play. Particularly Cocaine Blues and Dark in the Dungeon, which he’s definitely incorporated into some campaign. He does NOT listen to CHICK MUSIC because he’s a loser boy (Wayne has a Linda Ronstadt record that makes him cry).
What are his views on romance? On sex? Eddie Munson falls in love fourteen times a day because at the be all and end all, he’s an artist and he’s sensitive as shit. Let’s get one thing straight—he can flirt to beat the band, once anyone gives him the time of day. Which they don’t. But in his mind? He’s a silver tongued Casanova. It’s just easier to use on people he hates. Once he has a crush, he has an obsession, even if he’s oftentimes too chickenshit to act on it. Cue pulling pigtails in the playground routine. He wants so badly to worship someone and be worshipped in return, okay, it’s reciprocal worshipping—give him mutual pathological obsession or give him DEATH. He wants to build a shrine, and will, to the right person. He’ll preoccupy his mind with every detail about them to the point where, yeah, it is borderline kind of stalkery but he’s still 18 years old. Speaking of, sex? Yeah, he’s done it. Badly. He’s like to do it again, goodly. He’d like to do it with someone that wasn’t treating it like an experiment, someone who’d let him slobber all over them and rut and keen and whine like the hound in heat he fucking feels like. He has no goddamn control! He experiences pleasure in a total headrush, never been able to stay cool and sexy and commanding a day in his life. He just wants, wants, wants and he burns so hot. Eddie wants so clumsily that it comes out at the most inappropriate times, like the nurse’s office after he gets his fist busted. He’s not some sex god, just some dick with an overeager cock. But he sure is willing to put in the work.
Is he optimistic or pessimistic? Pessimistic on the surface, the life is shit and then you die so might as well do some whippits poster boy but so so secretly, Eddie holds the tiniest flame of hope that someday, somehow, things will get better. At the very least easier. That he’ll grow into his bones somehow, or someone will help soothe him into them. That he’ll feel some kind of belonging. Because he does want that, really. Some soft place to land.
Where or with whom is he most comfortable? Those pockets of alchemy at Hellfire Club when he’s got a rapt audience. With Ronnie, sitting on the sagging couch outside his trailer. Playing chauffeur to a certain princess across-the-way.
What are his views of his future? What are his hopes/dreams? Pie in the sky? Cover of Circus with his cheeks out, duh. A Grammy or two, his own metal club, a published fantasy author, shit. He’s not askin’ for the world, here! But honestly, Eddie’s view of his future is 18 year old misanthropist bleak. He hasn’t even considered college as an option, not that he’d get there with his grades. He figures he might just start selling full time for Rick once (if) he graduates then hopefully have the good enough sense to take his money and split to Chicago or someplace. Might hit it lucky when he’s played in a couple more iterations of Corroded Coffin and con someone into letting him be a session guitarist—which wouldn’t be the cover of Circus, but would still be a huge deal! But as much as an ego game as he likes to talk, he’s got this terrible, looming feeling that he’ll never leave Hawkins alive.
What do you imagine his future looks like? (If your story is incomplete or if this would be a spoiler you're not willing to share, you can skip this question.) I’ll give you a couple details, because I am writing a sequel about this. Picture a brief stint in Indianapolis. Meaner, grizzlier, bartender-ier, going on a decade of heartbreak, performing at his sexual best but nearing burnout and about to turn 30 with some side dealings at home that are edging out of the side and into the forefront. Heavy is the hand that wears the ring. You look so much like your father!
Anything else you'd like us to know about your Eddie/your story? He is so full of love and piss and vinegar. He is going to end up cherished. Like, violently so.
Optional Vulnerable Question: Why do you write fics for Eddie Munson? I love a tragedy touched smartass who folds at the first sign of affection. I want to nourish him and eat him up like the witch from Hansel and Gretel. Or have Lacy do it for me, whatever.
tagging: YOU. READING THIS. Not KIDDING IF YOURE READING THIS GET TO WORK
#YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH BOYYYYYYYYYYYYYY#you can tell I came up through rp by reading this#wrote on mobile so if you see typos NO U DIDNT!#e. munson by powder#hai brainrot
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fanart for a scene in Paranormal Activity by sweezey the fic is so good yall please read it
fem komahina designs created by cmykeyz, (1)(2)
background images are free-to-use photos, (1)(2)
PROCESS BELOW
v
first sketch, done a few months ago
first rough sketch, struggled a lot with drawing hajime's ponytail as in cmykeyz' original designs so i used a shorter hairstyle (also based on one of their designs whoops...)
lineart... ignore me forgetting to hide the sketch in the last panel. also yes i used real life footage of me kicking my wall as a reference image
shading! fun fact, i have never made a comic page before so i was at a loss as to how to make the squares in a program like paint tool sai which isn't amazing with making lined shapes. so i just created the outline of the squares and put it over top of the entire drawing to separate the panels. also i just realized i forgot to add the action lines shown in the sketch to represent hajime spinning around... rip
and here is the first draft of the final product, I added komaeda's silhouette to the first panel because it wasn't clear enough what was going on. i decided to use photos for the background because i honestly didn't even know how to begin tackling them. they're not really accurate for the setting but the colors look somewhat cohesive so i don't really care :] also komaeda is supposed to look somewhat sarcastic in the last panel but im not sure it got across well... and the flushing on hajime is supposed to be mostly from alcohol. this took me a little over 4 hours to complete
real life footage of me drawing this (real) (not clickbait) (cryptid sighting)
#danganronpa#komahina#nagito komaeda#hajime hinata#genderbend#genderswap#r63#fem komahina#fem komaeda#fem hinata#lesbian komahina#my art#art#wlw komahina#sapphic komahina
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A Builder, a Researcher, and a Rooftop, Ch. 29: Norepinephrine
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"I'm scared."
Also on AO3
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Whoops and cheers.
The beeping of the telegram.
“HQ, copy: switching to Plan Zeta. Jam all signals. Occupy Sandrock. Cut the rail links! Signal blackout NOW. Whale express in route!”
Silence.
Grace cursing under her breath.
Justice cursing rapid-fire.
Qi’s grip on the tracking device tightening.
An uncertain glance at Qi.
Qi’s uncertain glance in return.
The mayor’s plea.
A grin spreading across Qi’s face.
A plan.
A hint of unease lingering in Qi’s eyes.
Nervous murmurs in the town square.
Refueling the generator.
Watching the mailbox.
The clang of the forging machine.
Watching the mailbox.
Restless sleep.
A letter.
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Attached is the diagram for the air cannon and its ancillary power unit. Please set it up in front of City Hall when it’s finished. In a more peaceful time, I would be ecstatic to see my creation built (especially by your hand), but that is unfortunately not the case. I just can’t shake the dreaded feeling that this will be the last diagram I will ever be able to give you. No matter how many times I calculate our odds of survival, no matter how much I account for you as an anomalous factor, my blasted emotions keep telling me otherwise.
If one or both of us do not survive the events to come, I sincerely hope you know that it has been an honor to work with you. To know you. As your researcher, as your friend, and as your partner. You have my eternal gratitude for all of your time, care, and affection. I can only hope that I have managed to provide you with even a fraction of all that you’ve given me in return.
I love you.
Yours, now and always,
Qi
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It had appeared in their mailbox in the morning, significantly later than Qi had promised it. It took a mere minute to read, but it stayed burned into their mind for the whole day. Even as they kicked their machines into overdrive to produce the cannon parts, it burned a hole in their pocket. Even as they screwed and bolted and welded all the parts together, their mind would drift to the letter sitting innocently on their workbench nearby, secured in place with no fewer than three paperweights. Even when they finished setting the cannon up, and Justice told them that Qi had entrusted them as the sole operator, all they could think about was how he was nowhere in sight that day, and the quiet, resigned sorrow behind his words.
The builder circled their thumb absentmindedly around those last three words as they ate their dinner, careful not to brush over them and smudge the pencil. They were written so much neater and clearer than Qi’s usual scrawl that the builder couldn’t possibly miss them. It was as if he had to slowly force his hand to make each line. They imprinted themselves beyond the page and straight into their skull.
That was the first time he’d ever said it to them on his own. Not saying it back when they said it first. Not with a hug or a gentle touch instead of words. Not leaving the all-important L-word out and only implied.
It wasn’t that they were ever bothered by it. Qi had his own ways of expressing himself in everything, including his “I love you”s. His sentiments could always come through in the things he did. But those three words, plain as day, even only in writing, shook them to the core. As they read his letter over and over again, they could almost hear his voice murmuring it into their ear. They heard the idiosyncrasies of his accent, how the usual formality in his tone gave way to something softer, the resolve of the declaration in spite of the uncertainty.
They set their fork down on the now empty plate, feeling an ache building in their chest. They shoved themselves out of the chair and tossed the dishes into the sink. Then they ran to their bedroom, ripped the blanket off their bed, then turned tail and ran out the door.
Even though the night was still young, the town was completely blacked-out. Everyone was trying to salvage as much sleep as they could before tomorrow. Who knew when they’d next get any kind of restful slumber?
Nevertheless, the builder ran towards town, treading a path so familiar they could walk it in their sleep. All the way, Qi’s illusory voice echoed in their head.
If one or both of us do not survive the events to come…
They leapt over the tracks in a single bound.
It has been an honor…
They burst out of the pipe tunnel.
You have my eternal gratitude…
They slowed down and tip-toed across Mi-an’s deck, not wanting to rob her of sleep.
I love you.
They got to the base of the rooftop stairs and sprinted up, two steps at a time.
Yours, now and always…
“Qi.”
There he was, as they expected. He was sitting with his knees tucked to his chest and staring anxiously up into the sky, as if the Duvos airship would appear any moment and strike him down. At the sound of their voice, his gaze snapped back down to them, still just as anxious.
“Why…?”
“You know why.” The builder hiked the last several steps up to his side and sat down right up against him, wrapping the blanket around both of them and snuggling close. “You send me a letter like that and expect me to not try and find you?”
Qi had no answer. He just rested his chin on his knees and looked away.
The builder sighed. “Qi…please. Talk to me.”
He remained silent. The builder didn’t falter, their gaze gently prodding him. Finally, he spoke with a meekness they never thought he could have.
“…By all means, we should survive,” he whispered. “I’ve accumulated every possible variable that I could think of… I’ve run the numbers so many times in the past 12 hours alone… And that’s not even factoring in you and–and everything you are, but…”
He took a shaky breath. “I find myself completely unable to look at the odds of success for what they are. All I see are the inverse odds of failure…and all I can envision are scenarios where something goes horribly, irreversibly wrong and I—“ His breath hitched.
“I’m scared.”
Their heart wrenched. Just like it did when they saw him lying right here after they came back from the supposed dead, cold and alone. Just like it did when he collapsed into their arms. Just like it did when they heard him cry.
They gently laid a hand on top of his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I am too,” they breathed. “But I’ll protect you. I promise.”
Qi hugged his knees tighter to his chest. “That’s what I’m scared about.”
Another blow to the builder’s heart. For the briefest moment, they were tempted to leave it all behind. Gather some supplies, take Qi by the hand, and follow the railroad tracks out. Abandon Sandrock, the home they’d made there, and everyone they’d come to know. Head somewhere safe. Where? They didn’t know.
But they couldn’t do that. They knew that. Qi knew that.
He went on. “Even as we were formulating our plans in City Hall, it was already clear to me that you were the only one who could operate the cannon. None of the Civil Corps are competent enough. No other civilian could do it. And I…I do not trust myself. You are the only one with the intelligence and strength required to use it.”
He sighed. “I sent the diagram late because I needed to rerun my calculations and check for errors again. If an oversight on my part caused it to malfunction…I’d never forgive myself.”
“Even if it did, it wouldn’t be your fault, Qi.”
“It would,” he muttered, hands clenching the fabric of his pants. “I am a researcher. It is my job to produce accurate diagrams. My calculations are flawless. They…they have to be. Otherwise…y-you…”
He took a few haggard breaths. Then he swallowed and met the builder’s gaze. “The letter that accompanied the diagram…” he whispered. “N…nothing about that was hyperbolic. Even if the threat of war wasn’t upon us.”
The builder’s heart swelled and twisted and ached all at once. All they could do was give his hand another squeeze, and say the only words that they could conjure.
“I love you too.”
“I’ve never doubted that.” Qi turned back to the stars. “Not even for an instant.”
A quiet breeze rustled through their hair, its chill warded off by the enveloping warmth of Qi and the blanket.
“Can you…” Qi spoke up suddenly. “Can you stay here tonight? I…” He trailed off, looking down.
They didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”
Qi nuzzled closer to them without a word. They let out a long, quiet sigh, letting themselves melt into each other.
The builder stared up at the beautiful, yet indifferent cosmos, as if they could will the sky to stop turning. As if they could beg the stars to let them stay in this one last moment of solace forever. To just hold Qi tight against them until all the fear in both of them dissolved away into the morning light.
But they couldn’t. The stars still turned far above their head. Time still ticked forward.
And when the sun would rise tomorrow morning, so would Duvos.
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#norepinephrine: secreted by the adrenal gland; not to be confused with epinephrine/adrenaline but still fairly similar#my time at sandrock#shady's fics#mtas#brr#mtas spoilers#mtas fanfic
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The Witcher Headcanon (Modern Au) - Error 404 Brain Not Found: Bonus Scene - Part 13
Jaskier had been out jogging through the park with Yennefer the first time he saw a hoverboard. He'd been capitvated. He'd stood there gawking until Yennefer had dragged him away, citing that he was "Being weird".
Jaskier had gone home afterwards and animatedly described the hoverboard to Geralt.
"Seriously?" Yennefer groaned when, later, she saw Jaskier showing Geralt hoverboards on his phone.
"What? I'm showing them to Geralt!"
"You better not be thinking about buying one of those f***ing things!" she said sternly, giving him a narrow eyed glare as she went up to her room.
"I'm not!"
*sound of bedroom door closing*
"YoU bETTer nOt bE thiNKing oF bUyiNg oNe oF tHoSe f***iNg tHiNgS!" Jaskier muttered sarcastically under his breath to Geralt. "B*tch, I'm not...I'm buying two!"
The package was delivered the next day (Jaskier had gotten a great deal on next day delivery!), and the delivery man barely had time to set the box on the porch before the front door was being yanked open and the package snatched away with and excited whoop.
The boxes were ripped open, packing materials were tossed in random directions, and the instruction booklets were given a cursory page through, then disregarded.
Geralt turned the boards on and was captivated by the multicolored lights that lit up the edges and wheels of the device. He looked at Jaskier.
Jaskier looked at Geralt.
They both went, "OOOOOOHHHHH!"
"Melitele preserve me!" Yennefer groaned as she descended the stairs. Geralt and Jaskier looked up from their inspection of the hoverboards, the expressions on their faces making them look like children caught being naughty.
*weary sigh* "Go ahead then."
"And I'll just stand right over here, where I have a stellar view for when you fall and bust your a**es so hard, your a**cracks split all the way up to the backs of your necks!"
Jaskier and Geralt exchanged a look that screamed "We'll show her!" and they stepped onto their respective hoverboards.
Yennefer howled with laughter as they desperately tried to keep their balance.
Jaskier was flapping his arms while trying to stay upright. He was stuck violently wobbling at the cusp of over balancing as his hoverboard repeatedly randomly started forwards, then abruptly reversed.
Geralt wasn't faring much better. He had managed to balance better with his Witcher reflexes, but he was now stuck spinning in a circle, arms flailing as he tried to grab onto anything he could reach.
Yennefer was laughing in a very unladylike manner when Geralt's hoverboard zipped out from under him. The combination of his speed of rotation, and the direction the hoverboard shot off in flung him right into Jaskier. Yennefer devolved into breathless wheezing.
They rose, unhurt, aside from some bumps and bruises, and to Yennefer's bemusement, got right back on the hoverboards.
It was a matter of pride. There was no way they were going to let Yennefer be proven right.
After several more minutes of wildly swinging arms, spills, tumbles, and one dramatic fall, they decided it was time for a race.
Jaskier: Oh please, Yennefer! We've had like, 30 minutes of practice!
Geralt: Yeah, We're barely falling off anymore! *immediately falls*
Yennefer: *unimpressed 'Mmmmhmmm'*
"Ok, so we go down the hallway, through the living room, around the kitchen table, and to the back door," Jaskier said, ignoring Yennefer while outlining the course. Geralt nodded, and they stepped onto their respective hoverboards, making engine reving noises as Jaskier counted down.
Then they were off, rolling down the hallway. Jaskier swerved as he almost lost his balance, bumping into Geralt. The Witcher wobbled, rolled into the wall, and tumbled off. He got back into the race and caught up with Jaskier, who had gotten hung up on the corner of the couch.
They made their unsteady way to the kitchen, and as they approached the kitchen table, realized that neither one of them really knew now to turn the d*mn things. Geralt made a desperate attempt and oversteered. He swooped in an abrupt, sharp circle, spinning right into Jaskier.
Yennefer doubled over laughing as Geralt spun into Jaskier, bounced off, then pinballed between the kitchen counter and the table. Jaskier, meanwhile, was fighting to keep his balance. He looked like a bird trying to sit on a wire in high winds.
His hoverboard shot forward as Geralt bumped into him and rebounded, and Jaskier went over backwards, legs flying up into the air. At the height of their arc, both of his shoes went flying off his feet. One shoe flew out the open kitchen window, while the other hit Geralt right in the face, knocking him off his hoverboard.
They both landed on the floor at the same time. Geralt landed on right on his a**, and Jaskier hit flat on his back.
Yennefer would not have believed the cartoony sh*t that had just gone down if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes. Thank Melitele that she got the whole thing on her phone. Madeleine was going to p*ss herself laughing when she saw it!
After a few minutes of quiet groaning and swearing, they rose and stood there awkwardly while Yennefer checked them for injuries. Jaskier was unhurt, but Geralt had not come out unscathed.
He admitted in a reluctant whisper, "I think I, uh, hurt my tailbone,"
Yennefer didn't do anything so crude as to say, "I told you so!", but Geralt could practically feel her thinking it.
The look she gave him certainly suggested she was thinking it.
"You're both dumba**es." She said
Jaskier took both hoverboards and took himself off to his room while Yennefer went about fixing Geralt's cracked a**bone.
#the witcher#the witcher netflix#twn#the witcher headcanon#the witcher modern au#geralt#geralt of rivia#jaskier#julian alfred pankratz#yennefer#yennefer of vengerberg#geraskier#geraskifer#geraskefer#yenralt#yenskier#yennskier#yennaskier#yenneskier#error 404 brain not found headcanon#error 404 headcanon#brain not found headcanon
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Liber Sociorum
Lupus Somnia (Darkiplier)
Werewolf!Darkiplier x Fem!Reader
Word count - 4472
Warnings - slight Pred/prey
Please mind the warnings, and if I missed one tell me, I’m not an asshole I’m just stupid /lh
The downpour caught you at a bad time. No umbrella, no coat, not even a collar on your shirt to flip up to protect your neck. You duck into a store overhang for some shelter but it seems like someone’s against you, because the wind shifted and now the rain is attacking you from the side.
At this rate you might as well just go in the store. You sigh and push the door open. The first thing that greets you is the smell, and the bell that rings to signal someone entering the store but mostly the smell. It’s not bad, it just, smells like an attic. Musty and old. And it looks like an attic too. At least due to the stuff inside it. The shelves reach to the ceiling, towering over you.
Everywhere you look this place is crammed to the gills. Jars full of small things, buttons, pins, shells. McDonalds toys? Boxes of junk, things people didn’t want anymore and it ended up here. Things people probably loved at one point but had to get rid of.
Wandering deeper, you aren’t even sure if anyone else is in this maze of a place. No one said anything when the doorbell rang. Maybe you’re alone. You pick up a random magazine, TIME blares at you from the cover. Is that JFK? How old is this? You put it back on a random shelf and turn a corner.
As you round the corner you find an open area, a guy behind a counter looks up from a magazine before looking back down, a bored expression on his face. Ok, so you aren’t alone. You pull out your phone, checking the weather. Rain for the next 20 minutes. Great. You aren’t walking in that. Well, time to waste, well, time.
You spin in a circle. Looking for something interesting. There, those shelves have books. Maybe you'll pass the time buried in one. And if not, well maybe you’ll find some ones that you can sell on Ebay.
Actually, maybe not. Most of these books look pretty worn and used. The first one you attempt to pick up, the cover falls off in your hands. Whoops, let's just, put it back and pretend nothing happened. That one’s pages are stuck together with wax. You don’t even attempt to pick up the one that's stained a suspicious dark reddish brown on the cover. Oh, hey, that The Fellowship of the Ring book looks rather old.
You wonder if, oh shit. As you pull it out another book comes with it, thudding to the floor. You wince and look over where the counter is. The guy doesn’t appear to see what the noise was so you’re probably in the clear. You bend down, the book had landed open, the pages to the floor. You gingerly lift it up, flipping it over to see where it opened to.
Huh? It’s a diagram of a, demon? At least it looks like a demon. Dude with furry legs and horns. Probably a demon. You flip to the next page and are greeted with another diagram. Of a dick. Oh joy. Just what you wanted to see. It’s got a knot? At least if you can read the handwriting next to the arrow pointing to it, that's what it says it is.
You flip to pages further in the book. Another diagram, this time of a person with wings. Well, if the last one was a demon this one’s gotta be an angel. Is the next page gonna be… yep. You flipped to the next page, another dick drawing on the pages.
You keep flipping through the book, becoming more intrigued as you read. There's so much stuff in here. Demons, Angels, Gods? And how to summon them? Maybe it’s like a story building book, it sure seems that way. Someone probably wrote it for fun. It’s in a journal type book, you close it and look at the cover. Fake leather bound, Obligatory red string bookmark, a clasp to hold it close.
You open to the first page, wondering if it’s signed with who wrote it. There’s no name but there is a message.
If you use this book, Use it only once. You Can Not have more than one. (Unless explicitly stated) [But that is rare] Rip out the pages you used, keep them, burn them, do whatever you want with them. Lose the book. It will find its way to the next user.
Use the book? What does that mean? And there’s writing next to the note. The “Unless explicitly stated”, and then under that “But that is rare” in different handwriting. What does that all mean? More than one what? More than one book? You’re so confused. You just close the book and tuck it under your arm. You’ll buy it. Why not.
You check your phone again for the weather. It’s drizzling now. You spy an umbrella, and with that voice in your head yelling at you that it's bad luck, you open it indoors to see if it works. It does. You could probably walk home with this. Unless it gets bad again but that would be, bad luck.
You waste a bit more time as you walk up to the counter. Picking up a few more things that intrigued you. A comic book, from a stack that seemed ready to fall off the chair it was perched on. A small jar of crystals, and a couple of pins grabbed from the bowl on the check out counter.
The guy behind the counter sighs, looks over your stuff and rattles out the price of everything. $17.35. None of it had a price tag on it. He probably just made up a price, or he’s memorized the prices for everything.
He’s probably making it up. But you aren’t going to complain. You just pay the price and leave. You open your new umbrella, well, new to you. Stepping out into the rain you begin your walk home.
The book has been sitting on your desk for almost a week now. You haven’t touched it since you put it there. Why not try and read it more, you have some free time. You sit at your desk and grab the book. Opening it to the beginning you’re greeted with the message again.
You ignore it and flip to the next page. Oh? A chapter list. That’s interesting. Demons, Angels, Gods, Creatures. Hm. Gods seem interesting. You flip it to a random page and the first god you see is the God of Night. Some scribbled notes alongside a picture of what he looks like.
You read about the different Gods for a while before flipping back to the chapter list. You just close your eyes and point at a random name.
Lupus Somnia (Darkiplier)
That’s interesting. You flip to the page.
Lupus Somnia (Darkiplier)
Wolf of Nightmares
Wolf of nightmares, ok. You keep reading. He is one of the more powerful demons in this book. A shapeshifter. Takes on the form of a great black wolf. Well you probably could've figured that one out. I mean his name has the word wolf in it.
Actually, does it? You use google translate to translate the latin. Wolf dreams. Ok then, well it is google translate. It can’t be completely accurate. You go back to reading.
Can create wolf extensions of himself. Shadow wolves. They look like pieces of a void, molded into shape. To summon him, you must do it on a full moon. Blah blah blah, bones? This is getting weird. You spy a scribbled note at the bottom of the page. Can be summoned with Lupus Corruptionis (Antisepticeye).
So Darkiplier is one of the ones you can have more than one of. Whatever that means. You’re getting tired. You open your phone, squinting at the bright light. It’s 3 in the morning? What the hell happened.
You close the book, standing up from your desk and stretching. You should go to bed. You have things to do tomorrow. Sparing one last glance at the book, humoring the random thought of wondering if summoning them would work. Shaking the silly thought from your head you finally go to bed.
The thoughts have been rotating in your head for a few days now. Like food in a microwave. Could you summon someone? The next question you have is who would you summon, but that's easily answered, Darkiplier. He intrigued you. And with some research you find the next full moon is in a few days. So you have time to prepare.
You collect the materials. The crystals, the herbs, the bones. Thankfully it can be any type of bone so chicken should work. You set it all up, checking it against the book as you do. And just in case you set up some protection on you as well, almost smoking yourself out of your room. You may have overdone it on the smudge sticks and incense.
You open a window to help clear it out. It’s a strong scent, you don’t wanna pass out from it. When you can breathe again you finish setting up the summoning. Lighting the candles and reading the words from the book. As you read the last word, nothing happens.
Well, that’s probably what was going to happen no matter what. What were you expecting to happen. The candles to go out?
The candles go out… Oh shit, shit, shit.
You’re left in the darkened room. The only light being the full moon shining through your open window. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end. You’re being watched by someone. No, something. You take a shaky breath in and slowly begin to look around your room, afraid of what you'll find.
You freeze as you finally turn to your closet. There. In the shadows, a figure. You scramble backwards slightly as they reach out for you. Your hand hits the flashlight you left next you and you fumble to turn it on and point at the figure.
As you do the figure reveals itself to be, a coat. A coat hanging up in your closet. A breeze flits through your window and moves the coat. Making it look like it was reaching for you. You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. That’s enough of that.
You stand, turning on your light and beginning to clean up. The candles getting blown out was probably a gust of wind. And it could also be the source of your sudden chill you got, where the hair on the back of your neck stood up.
It's been days, and you can't seem to shake the feeling of being watched. No, not just watched. This feels different. Predatory. You feel like you're being Hunted.
No matter where you go you can’t escape it. It seems to get stronger in your house. Which should be concerning. Maybe you did summon something? No, you couldn’t have. But, just in case. You research more, trying to find out how to banish it, get it to leave you alone.
Many trials with different plants and crystals and burning candles later you think whatever is here is here to stay. You sit on your couch, laying your head back and staring at the ceiling. You’re tired, and falling asleep like this will definitely hurt your neck when you wake up, but you’re too exhausted to currently care. You drift off easily.
You wake, your neck not hurting like you expected it to. Sitting up you realize that you're in your bed? How the hell did you get here? Sleep walked? You rub the back of your neck and look on your bedside table for your phone.
It's not there, which means it's probably still in the living room. You debate on going to get it or just going back to sleep, it’s probably like 1 am right? Finally you decide to go get it so you can plug it in. You swing your feet off the bed and make your way down the hallway. The kitchen light is on.
You ignore it and go to grab your phone, you’ll turn it off when you go back to bed. You check the time on your phone. Yeah, 1:16 am. You turn to the kitchen and freeze.
There’s someone in your kitchen. There’s someone in your kitchen.
They’re tall, taller than you. They’re not facing you, so they might not know you're there. You have your phone, you can call the police. But you can’t move. Frozen in place you can only watch as they turn, seeing you. They, no, he, smiles at you. “Hello,” There’s a distortion to his voice, barely noticeable but there.
He moves closer to you and you start to panic. Your heart is beating so loudly he must hear it. “Oh, you poor thing, so scared of me. Scared of your mate.” He reaches out and you finally move, not flinching away, no, your body betrays you and leans into his touch.
“It’s alright, this can be fixed. You’re Mine now.” And with that your brain finally shuts down from the panic and you pass out.
You jolt up off the couch, heart hammering, gasping for breath like you’ve just run for your life. It was a dream. It was just a dream. You calm down, fumbling the power button on your phone to check the time. 1:47 am. The kitchen light is off, no sign of anyone being in your house but you.
“You’re awake” You startle at the voice, falling off the couch. Except, you don’t hit the floor. “Careful now, I don’t want you to injure yourself.” You were caught by, something. A black mass shifts under you, cushioning your fall. It lowers you to the ground and retreats, your eyes follow it to the man who controls it, the man that was in your kitchen.
He’s sitting in your arm chair, watching you. “You have some strange courting rituals Dearheart. Lots of candles and crystals and incense. Do all humans court this way?”
“Court, courting rituals? What are you talking about?” You shakily get to your feet, not taking your eyes of the man across from you. “You summoned me, after someone is summoned from the book the next few weeks are used to court them.”
“Why would, why would I court you? Wait, summoned you?” You sit down on the couch, your legs shaking too much to hold you up properly. He leans forward, tilting his head as he considers you. “Whomever summons me is my mate for life. Did you really not know that?”
“N-no, i didn’t. I didn’t think, didn’t think anyone could be summoned. I thought it was fake.” “Fake, you thought the Liber Sociorum, the book of summoning a mate, is fake?” He sighs, “No matter, I can fix this.” He stands, flicking his hand away and sending a black blur across the floor and down the hallway. As he walks closer to you, you try to sink deeper into the couch.
He stops, and sits next to you on the couch. Oh, he's even bigger up close. His eyes are mismatched colors, one red, the other blue. The shadow from earlier is back, it's shaped like a dog, carrying the book in its mouth. Wait, not a dog, a wolf. You remember that from the book.
He takes the book from the wolf and it dissolves into thin air. He opens the book, easily finding the page he was looking for. “Here,” He points to a place on a page, and you lean closer to read.
This book, the Liber Sociorum, is a mating book. Used to find mates for the people in these pages. If you summon someone, they will be your mate for life. If you find this book and don’t want a mate? Lose it. The next person needs it more than you.
You take the book from him. How could you have missed this?
“So, now do you understand? You’re mine, and I am yours.” You nod, still reading and rereading the passage. He’s been the presence you've been feeling. You feel a hand cupping your jaw, and he turns you to look at him. Slowly, giving you time to move away if you want, he leans closer.
Pressing your lips together, he gently kisses you. You’re frozen in place, and as he pulls away from you he must see something in your expression because he smiles. “You’re gone for me, aren’t you. Almost completely mine.” Your body moves on instinct, lifting your head and bearing the column of your throat to him. Submitting.
A rumbly growl fills the room and it takes you a second before you realize it's coming from him. His hand is tilting your head to the side more and he’s leaning into your neck. Fangs sink into the junction of your shoulder and neck, breaking skin. Venom pumps into your bloodstream, marking you as his.
Before you know it, it's over. The wound healed and you felt no pain. He’s pulling back, licking his lips and gently running his thumb over the mark. “There we go, mine forever.” You whine and he shushes you. “Give it a moment, you’ll feel it soon.”
You open your mouth to ask, Feel what soon, but it hits you and you know. A burning feeling starts inside you. You lean forwards in your seat, trying to ignore the pain. But it only gets worse. “It’s alright, the first heat hits the hardest. Luckily starlight, I’m here to help.”
He moves, gently picking you up in a bridal carry. You don’t know where you're going, where he's taking you. He walks across the room, going for the hallway and hopefully your room. You sneak a glance at the hallway, it ripples, the walls distorting and shifting. It makes you nauseous to look at so you just bury your face in Dark’s shirt.
There’s a faint sound, not one you could place. A coolness washes over you, your pain dispersing. You lift your face from Dark’s chest. Where in the nine circles of hell are you? Dark chuckles. Did you say that outloud. “You aren’t in Hell little mate. I would never take you there.”
It’s nothing, just a black void. You glance down, and regret it. There's no floor, just an endless abyss below you. You hold tighter to Dark, afraid of falling even though it's probably not possible.
Your surroundings warp, the previous black void shaping around you into a forest. Shades of greys and blacks are the only color, besides you and Dark. You get let down, your feet sinking slightly into the peat of the ground. His hand gently caresses your cheek and you shudder as a chill runs through you.
“I’ve delayed your heat for the time being, it will return but I want some Fun first.”
You step back away from him, unsure of what's happening but you can’t look away. The darkness and shadows of your surroundings seem to pull towards him. Tendrils make their way across the ground, congregating at his feet. They wind their way up his body, and wrap around him. Dark starts to change, or perhaps he was changing the whole time and you just noticed. He’s taller, his teeth sharper, nails elongating into claws.
His shirt rips and tears, falling off of him. His pants end up the same way. A snout pushes its way out of his face and your eyes meet burnished gold ones.
If you thought Dark was big before, he’s huge now. Towering over you as a werewolf, he tilts his head watching you. “Oh, little mate, it would do you good to Run” You stumble backwards away from him and turn slightly, still keeping him in eyesight. His tail swishes behind him as he sits back on his haunches. “I’ll even give you a head start, 30, 29, 28,”
You start to run, not looking behind you as you duck and weave around the trees in the forest. “23, 22,” You can’t outrun him. Maybe you should start to look for hiding places. But where, there's nothing but trees and an occasional fallen log. You skid to a stop, fallen log. Maybe you could, “10, 9, 8” There’s no time, you have to.
You climb over the next log you see, hiding on the opposite side of it. You dig out dirt from under it, making a small hollow that might shield you more than just laying next to the log. “4, 3, 2” You close your eyes, trying not to make a sound as Dark goes silent.
A howl rings throughout the forest, sharply cutting through the silence. You flinch, a quiet whimper escaping you. “Oh? Now what could that have been.” Dark doesn’t speak again, and you don’t hear any footsteps getting closer. The silence is frightening. You open your eyes, he’s not next to you like you expected. “Where ever could you be?”
That time his voice sounds like it's just meters away, on the opposite side of the log. Dark growls, but this time you don’t make a sound. The pain from earlier returns, your heat returns. You inhale sharply at a stabbing pain. The log above you is ripped away. You don’t know what happened to it, Dark probably threw it. “Found you.”
Dark grabs the front of your shirt in his teeth, lifting you off the ground and setting you on your feet. His grip was gentle, and you appreciate that. You barely keep yourself steady on your feet as the world around you ripples again. The forest you were just hunted in changing around you, being replaced with a bedroom.
You try to look around but Dark nudges you with his snout to the bed. You obey easily, he’s your mate, he can help you. Take away the pain. You clamber into the bed and immediately whine. It’s not right. Not set up correctly. You need to fix it. Pushing and pulling blankets. Rearranging pillows and taking the ones Dark offered you. A nest, a den, a place to be bred.
You place one last pillow, deeming it finished. Dark was still on the outside of the nest and you whine, wanting him to join you. He chuckles, joining you on the bed, in the nest you made. Dark moves quickly, surprising you as you get pinned below him.
His claws make quick work of your clothes, ripping through them easily. “Mine, my mate.” You moan at his touch, arching up into him. “Yours,” His cock head notches easily at your entrance, your heat causing you to slick up for him.
Your slick eased his way and made it effortless to slide into you. Then he freezes, just holding still. You feel the stretch, and some part of your brain registers that it should hurt without proper prepping. But it doesn’t, you’re slicked up enough from your heat that all you feel is full.
You shift under him, trying to get Dark to move. “Please,” You whimper. The burn is starting to return and you need him to move. “Please what?” “Please Dark, move.” He chuckles darkly above you. “Who am I to deny my mate when she begs so nicely hm?”
Dark pulls your legs up, hooking them around him. He starts out slow, the drag of his cock on your walls making you squirm. Either to get more friction or to get it to stop you aren’t sure yourself. His hands move from your hips to trail slowly over your body. His tail slowly wagging behind him as he watches you.
“Please Dark, fuck.” You moan as he pulls almost all the way out. He just hums above you. “You want me to fuck you? Oh, sweet thing, why didn’t you just say so.” He thrusts back into you, shoving you slightly up the bed with the force of it.
His thrusts get faster, and you moan loudly. “Does that feel good starshine?” You nod, not trusting your voice enough to answer him properly. “Do you want more?” This time you speak up, “M-more?” You question him and Dark just grins at you, all sharp teeth and fangs. “More it is then.” He rumbles.
His thrusts grow rougher and harder making you gasp. The drag of his cock is delicious, stretching you wide, bumping against the spot that has you keening. He hits it perfectly and you all but scream for him. He adjusts his position, getting the perfect angle to keep you making all those pretty noises for him.
You’re more preoccupied with, other things, so it's understandable that you didn’t notice one of his hands finding its way to play with your clit until it's too late. His fingers play with the bundle of nerves, and your hips jerk.
The combination of internal and external stimulation is enough for sparks to fly behind your eyelids. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out. A wordless plea for more. You buck up into Dark, trying to get even closer. The heat you feel is subsiding, but you need more of him.
Part of your brain is worried that if he stops it'll come back. You need him to keep touching you, keep fucking you. He hits that spot in you just right and, combined with his hand on your clit, it sends you over the edge and you cum around him.
Your cunt clamps down around him and he grunts. Dark keeps thrusting through your orgasm, slowing down slightly to not overstimulate you too much. He adjusts his position above you, sitting up and watching you come down from your orgasm. “Oh fuck sweet thing, where do you want it.” He growls, his thrusts starting to stutter. “In, in please.” You manage to get out.
Dark looms over you before leaning down, his teeth quickly meeting your shoulder again as he cums. Over the mark from before. Not breaking the skin this time, just holding you in place. His thrusts slow down, pumping gently as he releases inside you. A knot blooms at the base of his dick, locking him, and his cum, inside you.
His teeth remove from your neck, his tongue licking at the imprints. You whine at him and a rumbling purr starts up in Darks chest. He rolls the two of you over so you’re laying on top of him. His snout nuzzles you. “Mine,” You’re quickly falling asleep, the adrenaline from being hunted and your orgasm making you tired. His warmth beneath you sends you into your slumber. You fall asleep to his purr, with his knot locked inside you.
#markiplier egos#darkiplier x reader#abyssal's writing#abyssal’s nsft writing#darkiplier#reader#fem!reader#Liber Sociorum#Liber Sociorum series
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ermmm who else making fake letterboxd pages for the movies in red carpet diaries as a way to cope with a job rejection 😳😳😳
notes below lol
it was a really cool job it was in a library in like the middle of the woods. but youre not here to read about that haha.
hmmm i am trying to reflect on my design choices so i can write about them but honestly not a lot of thoughts went into this, just a mug of black coffee and disappointment :-/
also it's been such a long time since i played this series so forgive me if i got any of the plot details wrong since i literally can;t remember :'-(
it was fun writing the synopses for the movies though! and whoops i forgot the tagline for the last duchess :-(
the ratings and other stats are totally random, so don't read too much into it
i started feeling better once i got to the last one tee hee and as a result i didnt want to do this anymore which is why ninradell is the WORST looking one lmfaooo
they never said who played the sage in ninradell so i casted aliana velazquez from LOA since we never really got to see what her career was like oustide of the riverdale clone from that one chapter :-) rip aliana :-(
#playchoices#red carpet diaries#choices red carpet diaries#red carpet diaries choices#thomas hunt#teja desai#matt rodriguez#victoria fontaine#seth levine
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Whoops Game Grumps quotes
Crash: Inside, we're all a bunch of sadists.
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Bob: No matter how hard you work and how big a celebrity you become, you'll never be as famous as cheese.
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Lily: And then.. *pulls the cord on the Beyblade* ..you let it rip!
Lil Coding: I got it! *tries to catch it as it spins off the table* OWW!!!
Lily: Why would you try and catch the spinning metal blade from another country?!
LC: I thought it was like a dredel— Yeah, I really should disinfect this cut..
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Mia, to Tulip: Wouldn't it be funny if you... lose a family member? Maybe two?
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Mario: I'm the video game boy! I'm the one who wins!
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Laharl: You can't open up the story of my life and just go to page 738 and think you know me.
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Bob: I've got.. no money.
Lily: Why?
Bob, muffling his voice: Because I spent it all on gambling...
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SMG3: You've gotta draw the line somewhere, you've gotta draw a fucking line in the sand, dude! You gotta make a statement! You gotta look inside yourself and say, "What am I willing to put up with today?
SMG3: NOT FUCKIN' THIS!!
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Zack: Listen to your elders or whatever.
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Abyssal: I'm making lemonade out of a bad situation. You know what I'm saying, ohh gotta add the sugar. Gotta add the goddamn ice cubes!
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LC: Dremind me to get my bag then.
Cody: Dremind you?
LC: Yeah, dremind me.
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Tartarus, showing Olypmus around TOTK: I just like walking through the world, man.
Olympus: I love it too.
Tartarus: Look at all this stuff we're explorning! *seeing something move out of the corner of his eye* What was that?
Olypmus: Explorning?
Tatarus, leading him over to what sees to be a deactivated Captain Construct: See, I wouldn't-
Tartarus, as the Captain Construct snaps and locks onto them: OH GOD ITS ALIVE!!!
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Ash: You speak Fran-ques! (Français)
Tulip, as she laughs: What????
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Shantae: Okay, so. Tulip, can I share something with you from earlier today?
Tulip: What is it?
Shantae, pulling up a chat box: Well, I sent you a text early in the morning.
Tulip: Yeah?
Shantae: Because we needed to figure out some stuff for the upcoming meetups, what we're going to do, and all that. And so, I was so, I was like, "Do you have any preference whether we do it this meetup or the next meetup?"
Tulip: Mhm.
Shantae: Your response..
Tulip: *already laughing*
Shantae, trying not to laugh: At 9:30 in the morning; "Motherfucking Jesse Eisenberg Jesus Christ fuck dude motherfuckin Facebook movie bullshit Jesus can you fucking believe this shit"
Shantae: No punctuation. Random capitalization. So I respond, "I have no idea what we're talking about right now"
Shantae: 45 minutes pass, I get a text from you; "God damn created Facebook then fucking lawyers and shit right fucking Winklevoss twins god damn rowing the boat fuck yo shit I can't even fucking believe this shit have you seen this shit fuck I just watched this shit fuck Jesse Eisenberg man"
Shantae, as Tulip is on the floor, laughing: I respond, "Tulip, you're scaring me." An hour passes.
Shantae: You respond; "Motherfucking Spider-man Spider-man you put in the time fuck put in the time motherfucking built shit with this bare hands fucking best friend shit Jesse Eisenberg I'm very tired"
Tulip: *losing her shit laughing*
Shantae: So I'm just like, "No problem, Tutu. I'll let Ash know, and we'll do most of the talking for you today."
Shantae: Immediate response. I'm talkin' like 5 seconds later.
Shantae, barely containing her laughter: "No man I'll just talk about the Facebook movie all day shit man you have to be so interested in the shit I have to say about the Facebook movie fuck dude I just watched it a year and a half ago fuck Jesse Eisenberg man he fucked over Spider-man crazy Winklevoss twins rowing Trent Resin or did the soundtrack fuck this guy who invented Facebook I don't like dying I can't think of who the fuck invented Facebook All I can think is who played the guy who invented Facebook who the fuck invented Facebook"
Shantae: And then, in all capital letters, two hours later;
"MARK ZUCKERBURG."
#admin: crash#bob bobowski#oc: lily#code: lil coding#oc: mia#smg4 mario#laharl#smg3#smg4 zack#admin: abyssal#oc: cody#program: tartarus#program: olypmus#ash ketchum#avatar: tulip#shantae#incorrect quotes#i swear to god I made a post one time about how Ash and Tulip would bond over inventions and all that and like. it was mentioned how she ->#would get along with (I think) Celmont and Sophocles. and i wanted to do a quote about that but like i cannot find that post#(also for. other reasons too. glances at Tulip and Celmont possibly)#(possibly. i am currently on nightquil and fighting sleep so take whatever I say with a very very very very microscopic grain of salt)#But i SWEAR i made that post??? and i cannot find it???? im going insane or tumblr's search function is ass#probably both
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New tag game: list ten of your childhood ships!
tagged by @babybeale <3... forever ago. Uh. Whoops!
[I will also state my current feelings regarding the ship, and I'll go into as little or as much detail as I feel like <3 I'm also. I have a sieve brain. I'm trying to remember what the fuck it was I shipped as a kid lmao. Anything I shipped, say, pre 2016, I think should count? ftr that means I was 14 or under when I shipped it.]
Nina/Fabian, from House of Anubis;
They're still cute. Better than what they pulled in the last season ;-; fabian and mara...... why...........
2. Sam and Freddie, from iCarly;
This show was just. Not good at writing romance. At all. It was bad at it. But I am very smart and know better than them (/joke) so I could do seddie justice. Er. Maybe trying to do that right now, actually. Shh.
[also, friend; jade and beck is so complicated, you're right. A fun mess, but still a mess lmao. Me and my rarepairs was always a fan of stuff that never ended up being canon though. Might as well put it next, I guess? Looking at your 3.... when it comes to icarly; we could not possibly have had more different opinions on the matter <3 lmao]
3. Tori Vega / André Harris;
I haven't watched it in years so I do not remember why! But I do remember that I did. I think. Don't - don't quote me on anything ever.
4. Willoz - from buffy the vampire slayer;
No gifs for them :( :( :( love them still so very much <3
5. Honestly, I'd steal your number 5 bestie, 6Teen was great. In the spirit of obscure animated TV shows, though - and It's been so damn long I forgot the names of some characters, had to look up the guy's name, lol - Zero and Vin from The Invisible Network of Kids. It left a profound impact on my psyche because they did something really fucked up in the last episode, plus left us on a cliffhanger, and then the show got cancelled </3 rip. Haven't watched it in a decade or so. No idea if it holds up, but I was super invested in these kids doing spy work and experiencing insane levels of trauma that would be ignored come each new episode </3. I was literally 8 years old <3. It has a TV tropes page and the entire show is availible on the Internet Archive, of all places, sooooooo I may browse. For nostalgia's sake. There are literally zero gifs available for this one, because. I mean. No shit.
7. Didn't watch any of that continuity - only got so far as Tracey Beaker Returns... alas. Anyway, my pic for 7..... hm. Sigh.
Stiles/Lydia, Teen Wolf.
This ^ is NOT romantic! she slams her mouth onto his in the middle of a panic attack. Babe. No. No. Regardless; I don't like it </3. They really. Oh god they really fucked up this one. Like a lot. Plus, they both just ended up with much better canon ships (stalia, marrish) that then got shafted for this mess to be the endgame and then the movie breaks them up anyway!!! OFFSCREEN!!!! they didn't even last 2 weeks!!!! fuck!!!!!!!! I don't like them. But I used to. Playlist, for proof. I feel like this counts, because I shipped them when I first watched the show as it aired (I was 10 when the show started), but I did still ship the pairing until well into my teens (16 or so) before I wised up (the show made them very bad in a really boring way. Not that they weren't bad before. Love how they both do things that are otherwise reprehensible but the show frames them as romantic for some fucking reason </3 I was like 13 when I saw this kiss on screen. They're lucky I did research and didn't just take it at face value or I could've gotten some really bad ideas about what's healthy in a situation like this!).
8. Zikki (Zane/Rikki), H20: Just Add Water;
Season 3 does not exist <3 [also, the way they wrote the 'cheating' plotline was fucked up. That woman planted one on him!!! he did not consent!!! Why are we supposed to be blaming him for being sexually harassed in the workplace!!! No!!!]. Still ship them fr fr.
8. maf;lkasjd;f yeahhh. Think if you watched friends as a kid, it was inevitable you'd ship rosschel, the damn thing was pushed so hard. Stand in regretful solidarity;
For really obvious reasons (being that it is rosschel); hot damn no I do not!
9. Harry and Ginny, Harry Potter.
Ignoring the horrendous movie adaptation, when I read the hp books I basically just defaulted to shipping whatever was canon. Luckily for me, the canon hp ships are actually pretty good ones! If you ignore the canaries in the room. (I. Do not. Famously. Well. Infamously.) As for Hinny, whilst its a garbage ship name, the pairing itself is pretty great <3
10. kaljdflkasdt thank god I don't remember jack shit about watching glee for the first time! the sieve brain is a blessing in this one occasion. I've already mentioned in another (tagged <3) post my vaguely-relevant hsm ships, though, so..... hmm. What should I pick.... let's think.... I'm kidding. I don't need to think.
Shoker is a major missed opportunity in ME, and I've been mad about the choices for my fem!shep for YEARS because. Look. Kaiden she did not cheat on you. You left!! You accused her of being evil and fucked off after she was resurrected!! what else was she supposed to think other than 'guess he doesn't want to date me anymore. Rude.' And. You could have sex with Jack but not romance her, that was locked to male characters >:| biphobia [Jack can have sexual relations with women, but her only real connections are to men. Rude!]. And, Liara in my games always turned herself down for romance because she assumed my shep wanted to date Kaiden because she's not a total dick to him and there's no way for me to clarify otherwise, also people making assumptions :/ not great. Plus Li becomes the shadow broker and it's a whole thing, so that doesn't really work out narratively for me anyway. Can't romance Miranda. Can't romance Tali (wouldn't anyway - Tali/Garrus <3). Refuse to romance Garrus that is just so platonic a dynamic it's not even funny. Jacob cheats and dips, so fuck him. Like... all of the fem!shep romances are terrible (or Trainor, I guess, but she's... kind of. Nobody. She's Just There. Sorry. It's not narratively interesting enough for me.) and Joker was right there and augh. Augh! Still ship. Still mad about it. Hatboy Project is doing the lord's work! I salute thee soldier in thine endeavours. Waiting to replay LE until it's been finished <3.
<3
If anyone wants to pick this up, go for it!
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So, the most recent arc of UU has fired off some sparks in my head.
I think that Nico and Ichico and their whole tragedy mirrors Rip, Latla, and Leila’s tragedy to a fair extent.
The broad strokes are the same in loop 100. The will-be negators are deeply in love with someone who dies shortly after they awaken their Negations. Rip and Latla actually cause the death with their powers, while Nico just gets his incidentally, but it’s close enough.
I think that in Loop 100, both of their arcs are excellent. Heartbreaking and emotional in all the best ways, we’re slowly dripfed information about Rip and Latla’s tragedy throughout the first 100 chapters, while Nico’s gets done in only a couple of chapters. Both work well in my opinion, and the way that tragedy only begets more tragedy sets up the foundation for the complete renewal that is Loop 101.
But unfortunately for me, I think that the Rip and Latla arc in 101 stumbles a fair bit.
I feel like this boils down to one major flaw. Leila isn’t so much a character as she is a plot device.
In loop 100, Leila is the lost Lenore. Her personality didn’t matter, only the effect it had on Rip and Latla.
And frankly, it was fine that way.
I think that spending time and effort on fleshing out Leila’s character in loop 100 would have been a waste of pages, as well as a hit to the pacing. She’s a posthumous character. It’s fine if she’s a bit flat. It’s not like she’s ever gonna show up again.
And then loop 101 comes around. Whoops.
I think Tozuka had a really difficult task here. Rip and Latla have been extremely important side characters throughout loop 100. More time has been taken to examine their motivations and dig into who they are as characters, than pretty much anyone outside of Andy, Fuuko, Juiz, or Billy. And now Tozuka needs to essentially introduce a new character and have her feel just as important and complicated as Rip and Latla, enough to make you think that this duo is actually be a trio.
And he tries his best?
Leila is a sweet love interest, and she adds in a different perspective on how Rip should act as a hero.
But that’s the problem.
The heart of Rip’s storyline in 100 is not about Leila. It’s about his failure to be a hero.
It’s hammered in over and over again that he wants to be a hero, but has forced himself to be a villain, all so that he can save Leila. He mutilates himself, makes bad decisions, and only digs himself deeper and deeper. This intertwines beautifully with Latla’s feelings of guilt as she serves as his accomplice, and how it’s warped their relationship in a way they never would have wished.
This storyline continues into loop 101, with the climax being that Latla prevents him from taking that first step down the path of villainy, forcing him to share his pain with Latla, and not simply take it all upon himself.
And then in chapter 183 Rip says, “no, actually my story was all about me being in a love triangle.”
And that’s just… wrong?
In Loop 100, the Rip/Latla ship has long since been sunk. They flirt with each other, but it’s with the knowledge that Rip’s real love is Leila. Loop 100 ends with Rip quite literally choosing Leila over Latla, when he kills Latla for the chance to ride the Ark.
In Loop 101, the Rip/Latla ship isn’t even brought up until chapter 183. Then everybody brings up how sad it is that he can only choose one person, and how it has to be one or the other, and so on.
Rip’s decision is fine in a vacuum. My problem with it is that there’s been no build up for it in Loop 101. His sudden resolution that “no, I love them both equally” feels completely out of place. The was a single chapter about how close they were as children, but it didn’t read as romantic to me. It more read as a coming of age than anything else.
I think that the Loop 101 arc could have been better tackled in a couple different ways.
First, just get rid of the love triangle. Leave the Rip/Latla ship as platonic and end it with Rip marrying Leila. Simplest, quickest way to resolve it without changing a lot.
A second way would be to add in a chapter or two focusing on Leila, to try and stop her from being such a flat character. Have her talk with Fuuko about growing up a recluse, have her talk with Rip about what he should do after she dies, something like that. And then, she needs to have a talk with Latla, where she brings up Rip as a romantic interest for her. Whatever conclusion they make, whether Leila says the two should get together when she’s dead, or if Latla says they’ll compete once Leila is cured, it doesn’t really matter. There just needs to be something there to build upon.
Lastly, the real wacky way would be to give Leila her own Negation. Give her Undefinition or Unbalance and induct her into the wider cast of Negators. Have Rip marry her, then over time, broach the subject of including Latla as well. This would allow for more time to handle the development as opposed to just speed running it all in one arc.
And all that brings me to Nico and Ichico and their current arc.
We’re still in the opening stages of the Loop 101 Nico and Ichico arc, but I’m already liking it a lot more than the Rip and Latla arc.
Part of it is because the ground work for it has already been seeded, with Ichico being a full character in her own right from practically the start of loop 101. There’s her development of astral projection, and the effects that has on their relationship, and all the little ways she and Nico interact in the background.
What really interests me is Ichico taking a potshot at fridging.
I’m referring to the trope of killing off female characters, solely for the effect that it has on men, usually their romantic partners. Tozuka is a pretty big fan of this trope. It happens to Billy and his wife, Rip and Leila, Shen and his sister, and of course, Nico and Ichico.
I’m really looking forward to seeing if Tozuka is going to touch more on Ichico refusing to die, and maybe tie it in to how Nico gets his ability in loop 101.
Also, I think there’s something interesting in how in Loop 100, when Nico has to choose between Ichico and the Union, he chooses Ichico, but in Loop 101, Fuuko chooses to put Ichico and Nico’s happiness over the needs of the Union.
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oh for sure i can share!! 5k old grima anon again, and honestly i feel like my math might even be off since i based this mostly off the timeline laid out on this wiki page in a single fevered afternoon (https://fireemblemwiki.org/wiki/Timeline_of_Archanea,_Valentia,_and_Jugdral) so if it doesnt make sense uhhhh do take me with a grain of salt x'D ill summarize it down into bare bulletpoints for better reading, and im using the arcahnaen calender for the dates
sometime between -4000 and -2794 (i use -2894(ish) specifically): rough estimate for creation, sinces thabes has to exist to have forneus create him before duma sets the place on fire
-1000: beginning of the dragons decline, naga's war w the earth dragons happens about ~350 years later
607: (yes, no more negatives) alm and celica go into the labyrinth, weakening the seal and thus (to me) being the first instance where grima can Leave the labyrinth and is likely his first contact with real, alive humans besides forneus (rip,,)
(this is more of a heacanon, but i usually put the grimleal faith coming into being sometime around 900-1000, even tho the countries as awakening shows us are said to be founded proper much later bc i like slower developments)
1609: grima is sealed by the first exalt/the mysterious schism is here now in which we know nothing about how anything was created except whoops theres countries now lookit that!!
2585(ish): grima is reborn as/awakens into robin's body!
and because of one more headcanon, i see grima as following lucina to the past in the year 2633, which means the non-amnesiac robin timelines take a bit Longer to "complete" than the awakening we play through, because of all the added grima threat involved and other major events which are changed (emm's death, chrom's injury, there was something about ferox too i think?)
SORRY I DIDNT THINK IT WOULD BE THIS LONG STILL... i hope it was entertaining and makes sense!!
OHOHOHO I HAD NEVER SEEN THIS TIMELINE BREAKDOWN BEFORE I've been trying to puzzle my way around correlating the Valentia and Archanea calendars from the Accordion, this is FANTASTIC!! It looks like your math is pretty much spot on using that timeline as a basis -- plus, I deeply appreciate that you account for Lucina's Doomed Timeline taking more time than the Revised Timeline we see in Awakening, because I hold to the exact same theory.
Even with this timeline, though, the biggest point of logical dissonance for me remains in Naga giving Duma the Falchion before his exile. According to the Wiki's timeline, it states that Naga gave Duma the Kingsfang (aka Falchion) "in the inevitable event that they degenerate into madness" -- but it's not until almost 3,000 years later that degeneration becomes a recognized phenomenon and the Divine Dragon Tribe seal their powers and become manaketes. To my knowledge, Naga's not gifted with precognition -- if she were, I suspect she'd have dealt with Grima a lot earlier than she did. That's not on you! That's on my brain rioting at how the events don't make sense in this order.
If degeneration was a known issue and enough of a risk that Naga gave Duma a weapon that would end his and Mila's suffering should they be afflicted by the condition, that makes me think that they've seen how bad it can be -- which would mean that they've seen the Earth Dragons degenerate and likely gone through the Dragon War. And considering that Naga's death is recorded in the timeline about 500 years after dragon degeneration becomes a known condition and a mere ~250 years after the end of the Dragon War and the sealing of the Earth Dragons at the Dragon's Table, Duma and Mila only making it about a millennium after their exile doesn't seem that unreasonable.
No, I don't know why my brain is like this. I want to be able to take the timeline at face value, but every time I see events ordered with Duma and Mila's exile first and the discovery of degeneration second I start gnashing my teeth.
#answered#anonymous#fire emblem#gods damn this obsession with worldbuilding minutiae#i mean it though your calculations are spot on#taking the timeline at face value as correct#and i /love/ that you add in the extra time for lucina's timeline#i've always imagined that she was in the 14-16 range#when everything went wrong and her father died in plegia#it explains how proficient she is with a sword#and how her technique is able to mirror chrom's so well#because she spent a decade training with her father#absolutely one of my personal favorite concepts
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Ch. 65: Birthday Beets
SATURDAY - WINTER 20
With his new role, Alex didn’t need to work on the weekends anymore. But, as Achilles often said, there was no rest for the weary, and this little nugget must have rubbed off a bit on Alex, as he’d taken to spending his Saturday mornings training in the mountainside spa.
Achilles had joined him halfway through his workout, favorite pen in hand per usual. He’d parked himself on one of the surrounding wooden benches (not nearly as comfortable as the ones at Orange Grove, unfortunately), legs crossed at the knee as he hunched away from the spa’s chipped neon tiles.
It was a longer workout than usual, to Achilles’ mild annoyance (the pages of his notebook kept curling in the humidity). But he said nothing, merely munched on some pistachio nuts he’d snuck in (not that there had been anyone in the lobby to stop him) while listening to Alex flutter kick his way up and down the pool.
“All nervous energy, I think I might’ve broken a personal record,” Alex said, after finally calling it in at noon. With a grunt, he clambered out of the water one handed, the other ripping off his swim cap to reveal a messy cascade of brown curls. “Not even vi—vicarious? Vicarious. It’s all just me. Was that right?”
“Very good!” Achilles threw him a pistachio that bounced off his forehead. “Whoops.”
Alex bent down to retrieve the tiny nut, eyeing it closely before tossing it in to a nearby trash can. “Man, I couldn’t even eat a pistachio if I tried, haven’t got an appetite… welp. It is what it is, let’s go… four and half hours ’til they’re back…”
They made their way towards the locker rooms just in time to see Lewis, in bright purple swim trunks trimmed with gold, and Marnie laying towels down by the hot tub. At the very first sight of that grey walrus mustache, Achilles immediately dove to behind a trio of pale blue tables, instinctively yanking Alex down with him.
But it seemed like Lewis had a similar idea, though it was Marnie alone he unceremoniously shoved behind a potted plant before stepping forward, twirling the aforementioned mustache.“Achilles! Alexander! Good seeing you youngsters taking advantage of one of our community’s many little ‘hidden paradises’ as I like to say.” Lewis doffed an invisible cap (he must’ve left it behind in the locked room).
“Yes sir!” It was Alex who, after smacking Achilles who’d only groaned in response, stood to great the mayor. “It’s great having a pool in the Valley, now. Marnie, hope you’re doing well.” He gave her one of his warm smiles as she tip-toed out from behind the fern.
Taking advantage of Lewis’ momentary distraction (too busy shooting Marnie a wicked glare), Achilles promptly popped up like a groundhog from behind the table with the confidence of one who hadn’t just attempted to run from the premises. “Lewis, Marnie, good to see you both! The spa really is wonderful, and it looks like we had similar ideas—glad to see the weather hasn’t been keeping you both from enjoying some valuable, quality time together.” He seamlessly dodged Alex’s kick without breaking his grin.
“Ah… yes, yes…” Lewis’ browed furrowed as he digested Achilles’ words. “Well, we don’t want to keep ya from your plans… Alex, give your grandmother my regards, please. Tell her happy birthday from me. Been here all her life you know, 84 years! A true pillar of our community!”
“Yes sir!”
With tight-lipped smiles, the two continued on their way to the locker room.
“Man, why do you hate Mayor Lewis so much, he’s not that bad.”
“That mustache just activates my fight or flight. And just you wait until he hears you’re swimming competitively again, you’ll be his new target… new ‘star of the community,’ he’ll never leave you alone…”
*****
“Four hours to go… Okay, now don’t be too mean to him, okay?” Alex said, tossing his goggles into the tangerine gym bag at his feet.
“Yes, of course.”
“Hmm.” He leaned against the lockers and crossed his arms. “Well, I mean, I guess you can be a little mean…”
“Okay.”
“Oh, but he is 86 years old…”
“Yes, for sure.”
Alex poked his head out from the sweatshirt he was still wrangling on. “I guess, just don’t… bad cop it up too much?”
“Yessir.”
“I just need him to like, be open to chatting with me after that.”
“You got it.”
*****
George had taken Evelyn out to the Zuzu Botanical Garden to see the special holiday lights and decorations, leaving Alex and Achilles alone to prepare her early birthday dinner (“It’s early because they’re old.” “Thanks for the explanation, Al.”)
Alex had prepared tonight’s menu—beet salad with arugula and leek, roasted Cornish hens with stuffing, mushroom bourguignon and mashed potatoes, and of course, a triple chocolate cake.
All, to Achilles’ overwhelming distress, to be homemade.
“Look, but I’ve thought this out, be proud of me. See, all you have to do right now,” Alex had said, a tiny little hen in one hand, a paper towel in the other, and flecks of cranberry sauce on his face, “Is cut those thingies.” He waved the game hen at the pile of produce Achilles had just washed. “I believe in you.”
Achilles examined a leek closely before setting it back down on the cutting board. “Glad one of us does…” He ran his (clean) finger along the edge of the knife he’d grabbed from the drawer.
Alex was, not unexpectedly, painfully neat in the kitchen (to the disappointment of Dusty, who’d been hoping for scraps), but even so, Achilles thought it best to keep out of his way, and attempted to move his overflowing basket of produce to the kitchen table.
“You put that knife down, Achilles Oleander Desrosiers Robinson, don’t you go carrying five thousand things at once, you’re gonna hurt yourself—or worse, Dusty—”
Atop the dining table, next to a small stack of wrapped gifts, was a bouquet of freshly cut tulips for which Alex had had to place a special order. In addition to a new vase, Achilles had purchased for Evelyn a nice set of bakeware, whereas Alex had thoughtfully put together a gardening gift basket, complete with new gloves, her favorite flower seeds, and more.
“2pm,” Alex said, eyes darting towards the clock on the oven as they had been every ten minutes for the past hour. “We’ve got another three hours before they’re back…”
Unlike Alex, Achilles had been feeling quite calm about the situation, cutting his beets with a steady hand (maybe that was the real reason Alex had had him cutting vegetables instead of over-spicing the Cornish hens). It was, perhaps, a bit strange, given he was treading in somewhat unfamiliar waters having never had to have a similar conversation with his family. But he told himself not to overthink it—in typical fashion, he’d prepped quite a bit the night before after Alex left—and instead attempted to spread his placidity by telling Alex a “fun” story from his childhood.
As the hours ticked away, though, and the prepping transitioned to actual cooking, Alex’s nerves slowly seemed to settle. Balancing four dishes was surely quite a distraction, and by the end of the third hour, Alex was resting across two kitchen chairs with his head in Achilles’ lap breathing easy.
That is, until they heard voices at the doorstep.
A look of terror streaked across Alex’s face, and he froze. But in the second just before the front door opened, Achilles squeezed his arm and leaned over to kiss him softly on the nose; and with Achilles’ hand on his shoulder, Alex scrambled up from the dining table and greeted his grandparents with convincing enthusiasm.
*****
Dinner was, as Achilles had predicted, a somewhat awkward affair, although not nearly quite as awkward as it could’ve been, thanks to George’s determination to remain absolutely silent. The old man had seemed to be all smiles and laughter before entering the house, but his lips had formed a squat little line the moment he’d caught sight of Achilles.
That left Achilles, Alex, and Evelyn to carry the conversation among themselves, and outside of Alex’s oddly loud voice—his nerves breaking through or overcompensating for his grandparents’ hearing?—it was, all things considered, an ordinary birthday dinner.
Alex and Achilles had just finished clearing the table, the former’s hand now trembling as he carried the dishes back to the sink, when they saw George beginning to make his way to the living room. Achilles quickly called after him.
“Hey, George—I’d like to speak with you.”
The old man gave a start, likely surprised Achilles was speaking directly to him, before grunting, “I have nothing to say to you, young man.”
“Oh no worries, that’s fine. It’s actually me who’s got something to say to you, I don’t need you to say anything back.”
That got his attention. With a scowl, George turned himself around. “You can set aside the cheek, boy. I knew your father, Perry was a good man. Didn’t he raise you to respect your elders?”
“Ah, no, you see, my dad actually raised me to respect only the people I thought deserved it.”
It was a sassy response and he knew it—from the corner of his eye, he caught Alex’s grimace.
Best not push your luck. He told you not to be too much of an asshole, Achilles…
Achilles returned to the dining table and took a seat, just as Alex and Evelyn (whom Alex had forewarned) made their way noiselessly to the living room. As they had planned it, Alex would join the conversation later—but for now, it was up to Achilles.
George didn’t seem to notice their retreat. Likely torn between a spiteful unwillingness to back down and his distaste for Achilles, George paused in the entryway for several seconds before ultimately deciding to stand his ground and return to the dining table.
Achilles chose to take this as a somewhat promising sign, until George, glaring at him from across the stained wood grain, said, “Fighting my grandson’s battles for him, eh?”
But he responded smoothly. “I don’t see why it has to be a battle, George. But consider me the overture and your grandson Act 1 of a… a one act play. Hmm. I apologize, this metaphor is getting away from me.”
George only grunted.
Unsurprising. The joke had been a poor attempt to break the tension—of course, he was only remembering now that George was not a theatre goer.
“I asked you to stay away from my grandson.”
“That wouldn’t have changed anything, George.”
“He doesn’t know what he likes, and I’m afraid to say your presence has influenced him and made him think—”
“He hasn’t changed, George. He’s the same person you’ve always known and loved, his sexuality has always been a part of him—”
“It’s not normal.”
Achilles sighed. What he wouldn’t give for an ounce of Alex’s patience… but he succeeded in keeping his tone as light and easy-going as possible. “I suppose one could argue it’s not… the norm, per se. But it’s normal.”
“Says who?” the old man shot back.
Yoba, George— He had to bite back his scoff. Time to put your research to use… He’d made sure to have done his homework on the off chance George was the type to respond to a solid statistic.
“Well, who’s saying it’s abnormal? In fact, a recent study conducted by the Ferngill Psychiatric Association has found significant evidence that homosexuality is a normal variant of human sexual orientation. Not to mention, same-sex marriage is legal in the Ferngill Republic, George, and nearly 82% of all Ferngillians support and believe that—”
“Your father—Perry. He knows about your… preference?”
“It’s not a preference, George, this isn’t a choice that I actively make every morning when I wake up, just as I’m sure you don’t wake up every morning and choose to be straight. And yes—both of my parents are aware and have always respected me and loved me for who I am. It’s their unwavering support that’s allowed me to share my life with them fully and honestly.”
George said nothing, and so he plowed forward.
“I understand that it must’ve come as a surprise, and that you likely need some time to adjust. Really. I understand. And so does Alex. But you’re refusing to even acknowledge his existence, George—frankly, I could describe it a number of ways, but all I’ll say is that it’s demoralizing and wrong for Alex to be treated like he straight up doesn’t exist in his own home. A home he’s almost single-handedly supporting, mind you.
“So all I’m asking here is that you listen to him. Listen to him and give him even just half of the respect that he has always been so generous in giving to you.”
He paused, and found himself looking upwards at the ceiling now.
“Alex is—he’s just so selfless, isn’t he? And kind. And good. And he’s sacrificed so much and— and he loves you so much, and it really hurts—” He stopped to swallow, to catch his breath. Fuck, bitch, don’t you start crying. “It really hurts that you’re willing to set aside everything he’s done and everything he is as a person because of this singular part of who he’s always been.”
He wasn’t sure at what point Alex had reentered the room, how much he had overheard, but when he looked up, there he was. Standing in the doorway, hands folded across his chest, biting his bottom lip.
They shared a glance for half a heartbeat, and Achilles thought perhaps he really would cry. But instead, he forced himself to look away and stood. “Well. I’ll leave you two to it. Thank you for listening, George.”
He brushed Alex’s hand on the way out the door.
*****
After taking a moment to himself in the bathroom to make sure his eyes were dry, he joined Evelyn across the hall in the living room. She seemed intent on her knitting, but looked up when he entered, a kind smile on her face.
The Mullner household didn’t have a couch, but Alex must’ve pulled up the armchair earlier, and Evelyn now patted the cushion with her free hand, motioning for him to take a seat.
“I’m sorry dear, I wish I could do more for the both of you, but I’m afraid I just don’t know what more to say to George.”
He sat, and found himself suddenly exhausted. “I understand.”
She sighed, her knitting needles clacking as she brought the scarf closer to her face. “I told Alex I think he needs more time. At 86 years old, it can be a little hard to change your ways overnight, I’m sure you understand, dear.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“But I think this little talk you boys are having with him will be good. He told me you always know what to say… It’s been very tough for Alex, this past week, I can tell… I’m afraid George can sometimes be a little too tough on him, and he has always cared very, very much for his grandpa’s approval… I don’t know if he’s ever told you this, dear, but Alex’s father was not a very good man.”
“Yes, I’ve heard.”
“But I think you have been very good for Alex. I imagine he’s very happy with you… I’ve never seen him quite like this before with his girlfriends.” She set her knitting down in her lap. “He deserves to be happy. He’s a good boy.”
“Yes ma’am, he is.”
*****
Achilles wasn’t staying the night—that would really be pushing his luck. But after a sustained stretch of silence suggested the conversation in the kitchen had reached its end, he snuck a glance over to the hallway only to see Alex covertly motioning for him to join him for perhaps a debrief in his bedroom. And so he bid Evelyn a final happy birthday and farewell.
He arrived in the doorway to find Alex sitting on his bed, a comically small, but seemingly well-loved, stuffed stegosaurus in his lap. On previous occasions, Achilles had paid it only a cursory notice—it had sat on the windowsill with the rest of the few stuffed animals and action figures from Alex’s childhood—but he recognized it now from Spirit’s Eve, from Alex’s memory. What had it witnessed over the years? What comforts had it had to provide?
He shut the door softly behind him. “How’d it go?”
Like Evelyn earlier, Alex patted the space next to him. “Honestly? I don’t know. I think I blacked out.”
“Fair enough.” Achilles took the offered seat. After a beat, he lay a tentative hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I’m very proud of you.”
Alex lay his head onto Achilles’ shoulder and closed his eyes. “It did make me feel braver, watching you talk to him first. I’d thought as much…”
Achilles nodded into Alex’s hair and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. But in a burst of frustration, Alex sat back upright and began beating his forehead with the heel of his hands. “God, I can’t even talk to my own grandpa without help… ain’t that just pathetic…”
“No, it’s not pathetic— Al, hey— Al—” Alex had begun to visibly shake, his head buried in his hands, and Achilles could make out the sudden sound of stifled sniffs.
“This should’ve been my own problem to fix, shouldn’t it’ve, I’m an idiot—”
Achilles wrapped his arms tightly around him, held him close as Alex had done for him so many nights ago on Spirit’s Eve. “Alex, listen to me. No. It’s not pathetic. And you’re not an idiot.”
He weaved his fingers through Alex’s, clutched them so hard they hurt. And when the trembling had died down, he raised Alex’s lightly tear-stained face gently to his own.
“There no shame in asking for help, Al,” he murmured. “Isn’t that what you taught me? I’m here for you. I get to be here for you. There’s no reason to go about it alone if you don’t want to.”
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