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zorollade · 2 years

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cut, noncanon scenes from the conviction doc below! these r not going to be featured in actual ao3 updates bc they need to be reworked, but i spent too long on them to just delete them entirely jdhdjdhf

jic though. obviously these are going to have Spoilers for the plot of the fic, like the scenes dont fit but the events r still planned. idk if anyone cares about that but you have been warned

Watching the Sneasel play was very charming. After they became accustomed to him sitting quietly in the grass, the weasels ignored him entirely. They wrestled and chased each other across the craggy beach, pouncing and biting. Occasionally, one would be too rough, and would receive a rather savage punch in response, but all in all, they seemed to be having fun.

A few braver Sneasel tried to egg Emmet into playing with them. He never thought he’d find himself a miniature jungle gym for off-type Sneasels. He chuckled and tried to hold still as they tumbled around him, until something else caught their attention, and they scrambled off to observe it. Emmet was glad Lady Sneasler had brought him here; it was very calming. He smiled at her from across the ravine.

Emmet’s attention was called to the lake as water splashed. His eyes widened as another Sneasel swam up to the shore, seemingly after a bath. Or, was it a Sneasel? Its fur seemed to glitter as it shook itself free of water, its dark coat fluffing up as it dried. The other Sneasel were a pale lilac, whereas this one was a dark, stony gray, with gleaming golden feathers. Its left ear’s feather was long, and twitched as it sat by the shore, watching its siblings.

A sparkling, strange-colored Sneasel?

Emmet knew what shiny Pokemon were, of course. Anyone worth their salt in the competitive business had at least heard tale of a shiny Pokemon, regardless of seeing one themselves. Emmet had even fought against a few that Battle Subway challengers had lovingly trained. He’d actually lost against one, once. But he’d never seen one in the wild.

His hand twitched towards his pocket, pulling out an Ultra ball, then he froze and looked back at Lady Sneasler. She was giving him a glare so icy, she might have been a Weavile.

Uh oh. Was the golden Sneasel one of her litter as well? He was pretty sure capturing the offspring of a Noble was illegal, or something. It seemed like a criminal offense.

Emmet tucked the ball back into his pocket. Oh well! He was a ranger now, anyways, wasn’t he? Their job was to befriend Pokemon purely through emotional bonds, without the help of Pokeballs. That was what he was doing with Zorua, and if he wanted to befriend this Sneasel, he would simply do it the hard way.

He reached into his other pocket and unwrapped a rice cake. Giving a low whistle, he caught the attention of the shining Sneasel, as well as a few others. He held out the treat invitingly.

The pack of Sneasels mobbed him, and the rice cake was gone in seconds. Emmet gave an undignified screech as he was bowled over by the force of all the weasels. They began sniffing him, looking for more food.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Emmet said, pushing them away as gently as he could while avoiding curious claws. “Please, don’t damage the cab. Ah- stay seated! Ow!” One of the Sneasels bit his hand. He looked back at Lady Sneasler, desperate for help.

She was laughing at him. How rude!

Emmet pulled another rice cake from his pocket and tossed it a short distance away. The Sneasels pelted after it, leaving him flat on the ground. His poor, poor coat had new holes in it from the overexcited Pokemon, and he was pretty sure his ribs had been bruised from the force of the tackles.

Being a ranger was much harder than he’d thought. He stared up at the clouds slowly drifting across the soft blue sky. He was just going to lay here for a little while, thank you very much.

A warm weight settled on his stomach. Emmet glanced down, alarmed, then his heart skipped a beat.

The gray-and-gold Sneasel was sitting on him, staring with an air of… expectancy? Did it think he had more food? He didn’t feel like feeding the little terrors anymore, lest he be trapped beneath them again.

“Sorry,” Emmet said. “The rest is for me. You can’t have any more.”

The Sneasel kept staring. Emmet looked away, because prolonged eye contact with animals was even weirder than people. “No. Sorry. Not for Pokemon.”

The Sneasel scrunched itself up, sitting like a little loaf of bread on his stomach. Emmet continued to not look at the cute, glittery weasel. “No.”

It started purring. Oh, Arceus help him. He was not immune to cute things. Not at all.

“You can’t have it,” Emmet said desperately. His hands had started stroking the Sneasel’s head of their own volition. “Your siblings are evil.”

The Sneasel made a cute squeak. Evil! It was evil, and trying to bribe him by being cute. Dastardly. Vicious. Criminal intent. The worst part? It was working.

“Okay, fine,” Emmet said, sitting up. The Sneasel flopped into his lap. “But be quiet.” He pulled a third rice cake out of his pocket, opening it so that the Sneasel could eat out of his hand.

It wriggled into a sitting position, placing its claws over his hand and munching happily. Emmet couldn’t help but smile wider. He loved Pokemon, even the evil ones.

He held out his hands when the Sneasel demanded another. “All done,” he said. “Really, really. I don’t have any more.”

An idea came to him. He wasn’t going to catch it against Lady Sneasler’s wishes, but there was no rule saying it couldn’t follow him around by itself, right? And the easiest way to tame a Pokemon, outside of a Pokeball, was food. Sure, Zorua and Riolu had joined him due to different circumstances, but… well, it was a shiny Pokemon, Emmet had to at least make an attempt.

“I can make you more, but you have to come to the camp,” Emmet said. “You can meet my friends! Do you want to come with me?”

At those last words, the Sneasel sat up and chirped excitedly. Emmet scootched it off his lap and stood, dusting off his now-ragged coat.

He looked at Lady Sneasler, who was now watching her cubs wrestle, in case she had any objections. She didn’t spare him a glance, which was a good sign. She’d definitely heard him, and if she was opposed, she would have made it known.

“I am Emmet,” Emmet said proudly, kneeling to scritch the Sneasel’s ears. “Welcome aboard, Mustard!”

None of he and Ingo’s Pokemon had proper nicknames, just playful ones, like calling Haxorus “Mister Shredder” after the Great Paperwork Incident. They’d never really needed any. But, well, there were a lot of Sneasel around the highlands, and Lady Sneasler hung around Ingo when they were out and about, so calling this Sneasel by its species could get confusing for him and it both. And, after all, its feathers were the exact color of yellow mustard.

Mustard blinked at him, then gave a curious cry.

“Yes, that’s you,” Emmet nodded. “You are Mustard. And I am Emmet!”

Mustard gave Emmet a toothy grin. It squeaked at him again. Emmet made another squeak, scooping Mustard up into his arms. It was so cute!

“Time to return to station,” Emmet said. “Many other agents to meet!”

He hoped Riolu and Zorua would like their new accomplice, for as long as the Sneasel followed him around. The two caused so much trouble already, and either Mustard would keep them in check, or fit right in helping them. Emmet could already tell it would probably be the latter.

He took his time walking back. His duty as a Ranger was to make sure no passengers were harmed, wild Pokemon included. Mustard alternated between wandering about and following at his heels. He was glad that it seemed mostly curious about their destination. Many newly-caught Pokemon could be shy or standoffish at first, and having them walk with their Trainer was a good way to form an early bond before their behavior could become an issue. This could prove double here, where Pokemon were still accustomed to being caught. Emmet would just have to be careful, since he had no Pokeball to call it back into.

Mustard trotted over to Emmet as they arrived at the path from the ravine to the Summit camp, pawing at his coat.

Emmet stopped, humming curiously. Was something wrong?

Mustard pawed at him again. When Emmet didn’t respond how it wanted, it huffed and began scaling his coat like a cliff. It mostly just managed to rip holes in the fabric.

Emmet yelped, pulling Mustard off his poor coat and up into his arms. “Please refrain from damaging the cab,” he said gently.

Mustard sniffed at his face, then bit his chin. Emmet yelped again, nearly dropping the Sneasel. Why was it suddenly attacking him?

Emmet held Mustard an arm’s length away, hands under its arms. “What?” He asked testily.

Mustard chirped, making a motion with its claws as if it wanted Emmet to hold it again.

Was it trying to wrestle? Or did Sneasel cuddle piles involve inexplicable violence? Were cuddling and play fighting linked?

“Mustard,” Emmet said, “I’m not immune to poison. Or biting. Please be gentle, and I will be, too.”

Mustard stared at him. It probably wasn’t used to parsing human speech. How was he going to get his point across? He was a human, not a Sneasler. Other Pokemon could handle rough-and-tumble playstyles, but teeth and claws were very effective against human skin. Especially sharp little needle teeth and poisonous claws.

Emmet placed Mustard gently on the ground. “No wrestling,” he said. “Gentle.” He stroked Mustard’s head, scritching behind its ears again. It purred happily, then batted at his hand. How could he encourage it without letting it injure him accidentally?

Emmet pulled his hand away, and genius struck. “I know a game,” he said, grinning. He poked Mustard’s nose gently. “Tag! Catch me!”

Then he turned and bolted up the hill.

Mustard cried out in delight, scrambling to give chase. Emmet’s long legs and endurance from standing all day for years meant that he was able to stay ahead, even as the hill steepened. The Bronzor hovering around the path watched curiously as he and Mustard ran, until finally Emmet arrived at the camp.

Ingo blinked as Emmet stopped beside him, panting. “What in the world happened to you?”

Emmet’s greeting was cut off as Mustard came barreling up after him, bowling him over in a pounce. It clambered over him and bit his nose, making him yelp.

“No biting,” Emmet scolded, pushing Mustard back a bit. “And no tackling me, either!”

Ingo stepped forward to pull the Sneasel off, only to trip over Emmet’s other two Pokemon. Riolu and Zorua, previously having been cuddled up to Ingo’s Gliscor, forgot their babysitter entirely in place of greeting their new playmate. The three little Pokemon seemed delighted, instantly beginning to wrestle on top of Emmet, flopping around and knocking the wind out of his lungs.

Emmet snorted as a paw was shoved in his face, but still he pleaded, “Ingo! Help!”

Ingo was too busy laughing as his brother drowned for the second time in cute, playful baby Pokemon. Zorua had already grown bored of Mustard, instead returning to its favorite game of “rip up Emmet’s hat.” Emmet tried to get up, only to be knocked back down as Riolu tumbled into his face.

Gliscor was the one to rescue him, ambling over and picking up Riolu and Zorua in its pincers, then Mustard gently in its maw. Mustard made a curious sound, then thrashed in the grip, trying to turn and punch Gliscor despite the glaring disadvantage. Riolu and Zorua, used to being apprehended, whined from their prisons.

Ingo finally stopped laughing long enough to help Emmet up. “That’s a strange-looking Sneasel,” he observed. “Where did you find it?”

Emmet looked mournfully at all the new holes in his coat. Forget stitches, he’d need to get new fabric entirely. “The grotto,” he said. “By the water. It’s named Mustard.”

Ingo snorted. “A fitting designation. I must admit, I’m surprised, Emmet. This is not the first shiny I’ve seen, but certainly the first not caught by Miss Akari.”

Emmet’s head snapped up to look at his brother. “Akari has a shiny?” He wanted to see it. What kind? Could he battle it?

Ingo nodded. “Yes. Among others, a gigantic blue-and-yellow Gliscor. I believe it’s an alpha. I have no clue how she managed to find it, let alone catch it, but she takes it everywhere with her. It has stopped me in my tracks a few times.”

Emmet was sufficiently jealous. He wanted to see it, and more importantly, wanted to fight it. He’d have to ask Akari to battle him once his new friends were trained up a bit more. He and Ingo’s old Pokemon were still reluctant to leave Ingo’s side, which was perfectly fine, it just meant that Emmet was carrying a weaker team than he was used to. Not to mention that now over half of his team had special evolution requirements. Emmet wasn’t going to complain, though. His new friends were fun!

Actually, were rangers supposed to use their Pokemon to battle? He didn’t think so. Oh, no. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this after all.

Gliscor let the trio of terror down, and they immediately crowded around Emmet’s legs. “Oh, right,” he said. “I was going to make food.”

The three Pokemon’s fervor doubled as he said the magic word. Well, he could think and cook at the same time. It’s not like he ever stopped thinking, really.

“Would you like some help?” Ingo asked.

Emmet grinned. “Yeah!”

As Mustard gave a weak cry and collapsed onto the rocks, it finally occurred to Emmet that he was definitely, decidedly in irreversible trouble.

All of his battle-ready Pokemon had fallen, even Archeops and Eelektross. He shouldn’t have come into this distortion. He should have listened to his brother. Now, he didn’t even have Pokeballs to recall poor Mustard, Lucario and Kirlia into, and the gigantic Rampardos staring him down had murder in its blood-red eyes.

Emmet was going to die out here. That was sad. He’d planned on living a couple more decades out before punching his ticket.

Lucario was still trying to struggle to its feet, despite its glaring disadvantage.

“Don’t,” Emmet said. He struggled to push himself away with his good arm, but he knew as well as the Rampardos did that it was a futile effort. Was he bleeding? He might have been. He couldn’t tell, which meant he was probably going into shock. That wasn’t ideal.

Archeops whined, too weak to get up and protect its trainer. It shifted as if it was trying to let off a move, but nothing happened.

All of Emmet’s Pokemon were hurt, and it was all his fault. Archeops, Eelektross, Lucario, Kirlia, poor Mustard… and little Zora, the first friend he made here, was nowhere to be found, all because of him.

Emmet had been a pretty terrible ranger so far. Maybe it was good that Rampardos was planning to put him out of his misery.

He hoped that Ingo would find his Pokemon, so he could take care of them. Zora didn’t like his brother much, but Ingo would keep him safe.

The Rampardos lowered its head and stamped the ground, reading itself to strike. Emmet’s arm gave out, and he flopped pathetically onto the ground.

Just as the Rampardos bellowed, a much higher-pitched battle cry sounded from somewhere beyond Emmet. A brilliant light pelted toward him, leaping gallantly and colliding against the Rampardos with all its might, knocking the beast back a step.

Zora hit the ground hard from the recoil of the strike, but it was quick to recover, shaking its fur and assuming a battle stance with its most vicious growl.

Zora. It had come back. It was protecting him.

It was smaller than the Rampardos’ foot. It was going to die.

“No,” Emmet said desperately. His voice quivered. “Zora, no, you can’t.”

Zora, of course, did not listen. As the Rampardos readied an attack, it lunged forward for another strike, slamming itself into the berserk Pokemon as hard as it could. It seemed that in place of a special attack, it was committing itself to and all-out battle of sheer strength. Was it trying to scare the Rampardos off?

The third time, Rampardos predicted the attack, slapping Zora to the side with its tail. Zora flew an impressive distance, slamming into the rocky cliff with a horrible sound. It crumpled as it hit the ground.

Emmet couldn’t watch this happen. He couldn’t let Zora die.

“Zora,” he pleaded, pulling an Ultra ball out of his pocket. “Please get in the ball. You’ll be safe there. Please.”

Zora trembled as it struggled to its paws, stumbling as it caught its breath. It glared at him with something ferocious in its eyes, then lunged at the Rampardos once more.

It was running out of energy to keep using Double-Edge, not to mention that it was hurting itself in the process.

“Zora, please,” Emmet coughed as Zora was thrown to the side again. “Just listen for once! Stop it!”

Zora screamed and threw itself at the Rampardos again. This time, it slid to the ground beside Emmet when it was thrown back. It was breathing hard enough to shake its whole body.

“Stop it,” Emmet said, pulling it to his chest and curling over it as the Rampardos roared again. “It’s okay. Just stop. It’ll be okay. I’ll protect you.”

It wasn’t going to be okay. He knew that as well as Zora did.

“You can’t protect anybody like that, Emmet,” Zora said. “You can’t protect me all the time.”

“I can try,” Emmet breathed.

Zora shook its head, staring at him intensely. “Don’t you get it?” It asked.

The little Zorua looked at the Rampardos over Emmet’s shoulder. The gigantic beast’s glowing eyes held a bloodthirst that matched its own.

“It’s my turn to protect you,” Zora said. “You have to let me go.”

Zora’s entire body shook as it stood, but stand it did, climbing over Emmet’s shoulder and leaping once more with a howl that seemed to shake the mountain.

A brilliant, holy light cut through Emmet’s eyes, forcing him to look away. Zora’s howl thickened, deepening and taking on an air of power. When the light faded, Emmet watched with awe as his Zoroark collided with the Rampardos, sending them both sprawling.

Zora’s golden eyes gleamed with malice and righteous fury as it stood, moving to stand between the Rampardos and Emmet once more. The Rampardos roared, and Zora bellowed in response, a noise so loud and wrong it hurt Emmet’s head.

Emmet recalled something the Professor had said about Hisuian Zoroarks. They were said to attack with all their might, even at the cost of their own safety. Emmet had scolded Zora for never listening and putting itself in danger, and here they were now, after he had turned around and done just the same.

Zora had come back. It was protecting him, despite everything, even its own wounds. It was putting everything it had into each attack, for his sake.

Emmet felt like he was going to cry.

Zora lifted itself up, fur whipping in an absent wind as it opened its maw. A loud, ear-splitting whine cut through the air as energy began to build within its chest. The Rampardos’ eyes widened, but it was too slow to dodge as an explosive beam of light and fury launched itself out of Zora’s mouth.

Just one wasn’t enough to take down the beast, but Zora shook off the recoil and launched another, then another, even as blood began dripping through its teeth and onto the stone, until finally, the Rampardos faltered, then fell.

Zora threw back its head and howled, throat raw and bloody, as the distortion around them shivered and disappeared.

Then, it turned to Emmet. Despite himself, a spike of fear shot through his heart at the look in its golden eyes. Immediately, he was ashamed. Zora would never hurt him- he knew that.

Zora staggered as it approached him, falling to its knees and collapsing, arm draped over him like he had held it moments ago.

“I’ll protect you, too,” Zora breathed. Its eyes slid closed, its telepathic voice wavering. “...promise.”

Yeah, passing out seemed like a good idea.

Emmet was out cold before his head even hit the ground.

Emmet removed his coat, tying it around his waist. He pulled off his gloves, tucked them into a pocket, and rolled up his sleeves, all with the most dramatic movements possible. The sitar wasn’t the same shape or even size of the guitar Elesa had given him, but it had the same number of strings, so it was close enough.

He plucked a few notes, leaning further back against the wall around the training grounds. “I know one,” he said. “You’ll remember. It was your favorite.”

“My favorite song,” Ingo mused, a bit quieter than his usual cadence. “Emmet, I… I worry now more than ever about who I was.” He tugged his hat down, covering his eyes as he looked away from his brother. “I worry that I will never be that man again. I worry that you will play this song, and I will have no memory of it at all. What if I hate it?”

“You won’t,” Emmet said before his brother could continue. “That’s what the song is about.”

Ingo looked at him again.

Emmet strummed the sitar gently, slowly picking up volume. The song was meant to be played at least in part by an electric guitar, but it had acoustic accompaniment, so he could try his best.

He couldn’t sing. If he tried, he would ruin the melody. He would have to trust that Ingo would recall the words. Emmet whistled in place of vocals, and Ingo closed his eyes as music flooded the air. Chandelure swayed gently to the beat.

Enough verses passed that Emmet grew worried that he might not remember after all, but Ingo began to hum quietly along, even when they reached a new section.

“A friend introduced this to us,” Ingo said.

“Sing,” Emmet replied. “You know the words better than me.”

(Not knew. Know. Even if he didn’t remember just yet.)

Ingo was hesitant, but his voice grew louder as he hummed, then mumbled along. The clouds in his stormy eyes began to clear, ever so slightly, as Emmet strummed to the chorus. They were missing so many instruments, so many vocalists, but it was enough.

At the last line of the second chorus, Ingo sat straighter, his voice strong as he called out the words perfectly. His eyes widened, as if he was shocked at the sounds coming out of his mouth. He turned to look at Emmet again, who only grinned wider.

“I told you so,” he chided quietly during the voiceless bridge. Ingo’s brow twitched. He choked on the next verse, evidently overcome with the flood of emotions the words brought.

Emmet watched as his brother sang the final verses, and allowed himself to quietly chant the ending line with him. He couldn’t hold a note to save his life, but if he whispered, it hardly mattered.

Ingo leaned over as Emmet strummed the final note, pressing his hands against his face. Emmet placed the sitar to the side and pulled Ingo against his side, wrapping both arms around his brother and leaning their heads together.

“We are well,” Emmet repeated. And it was true.

Ingo turned to push his face into his brother’s collar. “That’s your favorite song,” he mumbled.

Emmet burst into relieved laughter. “Yes! See! You remember!”

Ingo sighed. A breeze swept through the arena, strumming just shy of silent against the sitar’s strings.

“...What was my favorite song, Emmet?” Ingo asked.

“Hm,” Emmet said, “I know what your favorite song is. Not sure about was.”

Ingo drew back to glower at him. “You’re not nearly as clever as you think you are.”

Emmet let go and slumped back against the wall. “Then I won’t play it,” he said, unable to pout convincingly through his mirth.

Ingo sighed. After a beat of silence, he lunged over Emmet and grabbed the sitar himself.

“No,” Emmet cried. “No, you’re terrible. Give it back!”

“It can’t be that hard,” Ingo said, struggling to pluck at the strings while trying to shove Emmet away with his foot. “If you can do it, reason stands that I can as well.”

Emmet gave a distressed wail as discordant notes began to struggle out of the sitar. “No. Ingo! No, no, no!”

“It’s too late! I’ve already left the station!” Ingo said.

“Then return! Return!” Emmet flailed, trying to wrench the poor instrument back without damaging it. The other people at the training grounds were starting to stare. He didn’t care at all.

Ingo had a foot firmly on Emmet’s sternum as he continued to strangle the abused sitar, utterly incapable of figuring out a proper note. Ingo’s Gliscor grimaced from its perch on the rafters of the cabin, screebling at them both. Eelectross and Chandelure looked torn between helping Emmet and simply running away from the awful noise.

“Ingo,” Emmet pleaded, “I’ll go deaf! Give it!” He finally managed to tug the sitar free, and both twins dissolved into raccorous laughter.

Emmet came across a curious sight on his patrol.

Ingo was sprawled out in the sunny grass, Alakazam and Excadrill both flopped over him. Chandelure drifted lazily in the quiet breeze, bobbing in circles around its partner. Ingo was snoring.

He was... taking a nap. In the middle of the day, in the middle of nowhere.

It hit Emmet like a speeding train. His life was so much slower here, he realized. In Nimbasa, everything was happening all the time. There were trains to direct, challengers to chat with, battles to be had, and always accidents to smooth over. Every day was exciting and rushed, whether good or bad. There was never a dull moment in Gear Station, and never a moment of rest, either.

And here they were now, two hundred years ago, with nothing to do but relax in the sun and enjoy what life had to give.

There was a proverb Emmet had heard about that once. Something about a rich man never taking a moment to enjoy life, and a poor fisherman living life to the fullest.

Ingo snored again. Chandelure tittered happily as it spun in a shifted breeze.

Zora, who had been grooming itself at Emmet's heel, trotted over and flopped next to Ingo, rolling around in the grass and basking in the sun.

Emmet followed suit, letting himself ragdoll into the sweet-smelling clover. It was soft and scratchy, surprisingly cool. It felt nice against his back, especially with the warm sun radiating against his face.

"It's funny," said Emmet.

Zora scooted over until it could see him. "What is?"

Emmet shrugged. "I never thought I'd like it here. I still miss home. But this is my home now, too. And it's nice."

Zora's tail wagged. "Well, welcome home, Emmet."

Emmet smiled. He was going to take a nap, just because he could.

#conviction au #long post

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munshine · 3 years

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Not sure if intros are a Thing since we all posted on the talk tags but jic - here is my talk tag / about / info. I tried to make a couple of plots under the cut, though tbh I’m probably better at coming up with plots through IM or discord BUT just in case. I’ll make sure I got back to messages I was replying to before and if we haven’t plotted yet and you want to just like this and I’ll toss a msg your way. 💫

An old grudge type relationship. Would prefer if they both did something less than ideal to each other rather than it being one sided in either direction. Bonus points if they punch Mun in the face. Could be some unresolved issue there, like maybe they used to be actual friends but trust was betrayed or something.

Probably he needs a few genuine friends. He’s bad at being understanding and also understanding himself and picking apart his emotions. So it might be interesting if he is (or Becomes - this might b more exciting to rp) friends with someone who is more open emotionally and sort of helps him understand that ignoring ur feelings and relying on anger is Not At All a good life strategy and kicking inanimate objects is not a stand in for therapy.

He is basically a preening bird like if anyone is his fan or pretends to be his fan he will Eat It Up, he lives for adoration. I think there could be some interesting plots that come from this, either someone could try to manipulate him by playing at it (for a fame boost, or maybe they want a song, or if we plot some deeper r/s something more personal), or else he might take advantage of that blind loyalty and be too demanding or something and overall it’s lowkey a toxic r/s. Once again would prefer it not be one sided and they’re both kind of assuming wrongly or doing sketchy things or etc.

I’d like to have had an ex plot eventually. He gets pretty obsessive over people and is often Just Too Much in relationships. Demands a lot from people, expects to be at the center of their attention, expects them to be in the center of his. So it easily could have fallen apart because of that, or we could deviate away and do a different reason. I will mention tho that he has a Type, he generally likes to go after people around his age or older, also likes girls that will boss him around. Likes guys that are a bit scrappy.

He needs an obsession for the present, ofc. Same details as above for the type.

Maybe a hookup or two, could’ve not meant much to him but did to them. Or else maybe he had wanted it to turn into something and it didn’t. Orrrr idk something else Dramatic that I can’t think of.

He’s absolutely the most jealous person in the world, if you’re super famous and he doesn’t click with you he very well may be a bitch bc he wants that fame too. Even though he pretends he doesn’t. Make it make sense, Mun.

People who hate him for being obnoxious. I’m also down to plot out histories and figure out something that happened between them so they’re not chill now.

I also love slow burn overcoming our differences enemies to friends plots so like............hmu with That

Maybe a plot where like they Almost had a relationship but it never panned out bc of like work or Mun’s terrible personality or something else so it’s kind of painted over in nostalgia and what if but they both know it would’ve ended poorly regardless but it’s still like weird mixed feelings up in there.

And more! Like I said I’m always dow to figure things out through messages where we can talk about their personalities and how they might connect together.

#ooc / intro

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luuxxart · 4 years

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i made like four pieces of concept art for a stranger things/star wars AU so as promised here’s the actual notes behind them (+ like a small stoncy sketch at the end)

whats the plan?

Originally, it was gonna be a fanfic(might still be) but im considering a comic format? but moreso in the style of Homestuck/MSPA bc im shit at keeping up w a background

so if i did that itd probably be a side blog

but i have like

so many projects on backburners and idk enough abt star wars to even pull it off

i watched uhhhhhh 1,3,4,5,6,7, and 9, solo, and the mandalorian

so like what the hell is the plot anyway?

when it was going to be in a fanfiction format, i was going to make it revolve around Robin(naturally, she’s my favorite character) and Steve(who is my second favorite) so it revolves around them, but i might change that

anyway

Missions start flooding a local bounty hunter guild concerning reports of kids being taken from planets by a group of people nicknamed “Scoopers” to be pitted against one another in an underground fight club. The mission to uncover the operation falls on the head of the guild, Hopper(who’s a washed-up Mandalorian bc i said so). Robin, a rookie bounty hunter, catches wind of the operation and persuades Hopper to take her with him on the mission.

Meanwhile, Steve(a spice runner) is on his way to his next client, who just so happen to be the “Scoopers”.

they all meet at the base and things happen. cant spoil jic this is something i end up pursuing

so what are the robin notes

ngl fam i got shit for robin haha shes just the everyman trope for the story

probably an orphan in this story? but def not a Mandalorian of any sort

her suit is a combo of Samus’ light suit and Valkyrie’s costume from Ragnarok. (and in a way, metal sonic and mega man bc im trash)

she really wants a T4-M33 navigator droid

you got any steve notes?

BOY DO I EVER!

you’re just in luck bc *slaps the roof of this post* this baby can fit so many steve notes in it

on his homeplanet(its probably named Hawkins), he underwent knight training along w Nancy and Jonathan.

(you might notice some similarities between his outfit and the ones Mike and the other kids wear in the previous post)

Steve and Nancy were very much together, and they were the top knights in the program. Both were up for the position of the prince’s personal knight. The identity of the prince, until coronation, was unknown to the public, and so when Jonathan selected Nancy for his personal knight, Steve skipped town, and eventually, skipped planet altogether.

but he didnt plan ahead, almost got his ass handed to him by some ex-hutts, and scrambled back to Hawkins. Joyce, who i think would be accurate to describe as the Queen Matron of Hawkins, gave him a chance to work at least as a top officer.

during his return to Hawkins, Nancy gave him a pretty cold shoulder, only adding to Steve’s sense of displacement.

he was given the task of hunting down some spice runners who’d stolen a bounty from one of their quarries, and fueled by resentment, he joined them instead.

on one of his spice runs, he came across a rather wealthy Wookie family. he noticed, however, their son was rather sheltered, and took a keen interest in the business Steve had come into

it took him exactly three weeks for him to realize the kid had snuck onto his ship. the disappearing rations didnt occur to him until the packs were near empty.

he decided to take him with him on his spice run when the kid expressed extreme turmoil at home with his magnate family. but Steve sees himself more as the babysitter friend than the mom friend, having made a silent vow to return the kid(which was promised to himself after one adventure, which turned into five, and now they’re up to fifty. It’s been a couple years.)

so now he just does spice runs w dustin bc every story needs a lone star and a barf— i mean a han solo and chewie

god will anyone ever think of the children

no bc the teens are more interesting in s2-3 imo

except eleven, she’s always great

but since u asked

Mike, Will, Lucas, and Max are all going through knight training on Hawkins. Lumax is a thing, and Byler is starting to be.

i dont get caught up in those ships too much and just try to go w whats canon since they’re kids for the most part

the whole plot kicks off w Mike and Will getting kidnapped(well, mostly Will and Mike just so happens to be there so he’s taken too)

and Lucas and Max go after them.

At the underground fight club they’re taken to, Mike befriends the top fighter who’s named Eleven because she’s the 11th force user they’ve managed to find. and eleven is,, dare i say,, unusually strong in the force

Nancy can use the force, Jonathan and Mike can’t. Will is force sensitive.

i guess i should mention if its not already obvious but Lucas is a Rodian and Max is a Twi-lek

ok yeah thats cool but what about billy

nothing about billy. or kali. for now

or barb

but they do exist in this au.

theyre also wips tho haha

so what now

nothing. for now

if u wanna know more drop me an ask and i’ll elaborate

until then i’ll probably do something for this once my robali fic on ao3 is finished.

anyway thanks for readin my nonsense heres a stoncy sketch for ur troubles

#stranger things #star wars #milven #byler #stoncy #lumax #im not tagging all these names again im too lazy #stswau #<-- thats my tag for this in case i do something more in the future for it

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lovestrucklosers-archive · 4 years

Note

3 , 7 and 9 ! - lang

TY LANG!!!!! ILL USE THESE 4 rose!! :)c also idk if u wanted 2 b tagged or not so ill tag u jic!! :] @etereonovio also under cut 4 lenght lmao

also i got kinda. lazy towardz the end but u can probably find this info on their google doc GHGKJDHKJ

3. Who in their canon are they closest to? Who would they drop everything to come help, if anyone? Who’s the person they’re least close to? Who would they most likely not get along with, if anyone?

ACTUALLY yknow i have a whole thing of rose’s relationshipz on their google doc n also i already did the ppl tht they... dont get along w/ (@ least, @ 1st) but... ill still explain anywyas :Dc

even though they.. can’t really stand ace and grim at first, they’re already growing closer and closer to those two, as well as deuce. they’re already close friends by the time jack, epel and even sebek are into their small friend group. besides any of their romantic interests, these are the main people that they’re the closest to, and would definitely drop everything to help them, at any cost.

(i’d like to think that rose is somewhat close to all of the main cast, but closest to the people below btw jkdfhgkjdhfgk)

besides the first years, rose will definitely be close to riddle, trey and cater, no matter what. they feel.. welcomed by the three, and see trey and cater as older brothers, despite being only.. 2 yrz younger @ the most.

not only heartslabyul, but they’re also close to scarabia as well. kalim was welcoming to rose from the start, and after the scarabia arc, rose is able to break down jamil’s walls and truly befriend him.

7. What kind of clothing style do they like? What would they never be caught dead wearing? What’s likely in their closet right now?

rose is.. very prude (at least, it comes off that way to some people), and dislikes showing anymore skin than they need to. they enjoy wearing soft and oversized clothing, and like having their sleeves cover their hands. they like clothing that are like... soft like blanketz, yknow? they just like.. comfy clothez that go 2gether well!

they hate any kind of scratchy material or see-through shirts. they like crop tops, but they can’t really... be alone in their house to wear them,a nd they also don’t have enough tank tops to wear underneath them..

9. Their favorite foods? Colors? Activities? What do they enjoy in life? How do they express their joy for things they like?

they LOVE all kinds of sweets, especially red velvet cake and boba tea. and, true to their aesthetic, they love pastel colors (especially light purple) and enjoy laid-back activities, such as gardening, reading, writing, etc etc

#inbox #etereonovio #u need a tag smh....#Anonymous #pending mutual tag #THERE ok i need 2 give all of u guys tags >:( but anyways TY #i fidnt rlly finish the last question but............. still.............. this was fun #[self insert: rosemary ''rose'' marlowe]

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bendthekneejon · 5 years

Text

About ‘Estranged’

Yes. I deleted the first and only chapter of the fic. My apologies to the ones who read it and wanted it to go on. I’m really sorry. Here are the reasons why, for the ones who are interested: I’ve been writing it as an escape from all the negativity in the Jonerys fandom. The last thing I thought was that I was gonna receive that amount of negativity in the comments. Call me weak, call me a quitter, whatever you want, but I’m not in the right state of mind to endure so much criticism. I know the following chapters would’ve proven wrong many of these readers, but I don’t have the time/energy to keep on receiving these messages until they’re up.

That being said, I’m just gonna share some interpretations of the first chapter that baffled me. I’m restating their replies here (even though this has all been clarified in the fic itself, I’m taking the time to write this jic anyone wants further explanations).

Some comments said…

-That I lowkey ship Dany and Daario. NO. Lmao the two times Daario has made an appearance in my fics, it’s been as an antagonist. I only ship Dany and Jon with each other.

-That I “tricked” you into reading a Dany/Daario fic without tagging said ship. Omg. I’m not gonna tag a ship where the relationship is abusive and I’m literally showing NO love between them. Dany is escaping this relationship and Daario is a repulsive man. It’s not fair to the people in the Dany/Daario tag. If it was a Jon/Dany abusive relationship with ZERO love scenes between them while Jon has a love story with Sansa, I’m sure many Jonerys shippers would complain if it were tagged as Jon/Dany.

-Dany didn’t DUMP Jon for money (she didn’t dump him at all). Actually, she was the one who convinced him to change his major from engineering to gastronomy, someone who cares only abt money wouldn't have done so. Dany took the opportunity for a scholarship in the south, planning to go back to Jon after a year, but then she started working there as a painter. Jon got a great job in the North as a sous chef--if Dany cared about money as some say, she would've gone back to his arms as soon as he had gotten that job. My point is: if Dany went back to Jon, she would've had to live without following her passion (painting); if Jon went to Dany, he would also have to abandon his passion (northern seafood). So it was inevitable, it was an act of love to let the other go so that they could pursue their passion. This was never about money. Idk if you've read my other fics but I'm quite vocal about prioritizing your passion over the income it can give you. That was basically the point of To Be Alone With You. This is about what you feel is your point in life. For some it's the arts—gastronomy, oil painting—and having the opportunity to make a living from the arts is an amazing chance that you cannot reject if it's your thing.

-Dany DIDN’T go to Daario for money and sex. He had been nice at the start, she had found similarities between them, and she felt so lonely and devastated about not being able to have Jon back that she went for it. She needed company. She was already making money in KL, it wasn’t about the money.

This fic was a whole lot of fun but also a huge challenge for me. I spent so much time doing research about oil painting, cooking seafood, about how chefs fucking BUY FISH at the goddamn TERMINAL and all these things the characters do some of you to bash it? I’m writing this fic for myself. The fact that I share it on AO3 is a plus for someone else to enjoy it if they want to.

I’ve always actively sought for constructive criticism on my other fics to improve as a writer, but I don’t know why some people think that if they don’t like something personally, it’s fine to bash it. This, like many of my other stories, could be sitting on my computer files and never seeing the light. It takes up a shit load of courage for me to post every fic, a heart attack every time I hit the “Post” button. I think those who aren’t writers can never understand this anxiety. Yes, I value (constructive) criticism, but more than anything, I value respect. I’ve never disrespected you. If you don’t like this fic, you can close it.

I made my mind and, at least for now, I’m better off without this fic than with it. The point was to show two relationships: an abusive one and a healthy one and contrast them. The point was to show when there was love in a relationship and when there was only attachment, unhealthy attachment. The abuse that would be shown here was going to be subtle, not aggressive and purely ‘evil’ because many abusers aren’t completely ‘black’ in real life, they have their good and bad moments which make the abused think they just have some “bad days”.

Look, To Be Alone With You had a practically immaculate comment section, no negativity in it. It’s a fic about love—romantic love, self-love, fraternal love, etc.—and it’s focused on healthy relationships. Estranged was going to be a contrast of both healthy and unhealthy to prove a point of how a healthy relationship should be and why it’s important to flee when you’re trapped in an abusive relationship. And for fuck’s sake, I was clear in the notes about Jon not being Dany’s “savior” here, that she wasn’t a “damsel in distress” waiting for her male savior. Both Jon and Dany had their own problems and were gonna help each other out with their love and care for one another because they knew each other like the back of their hands. But yeah, I guess some people are too quick to judge and thought otherwise.

Not to sound arrogant but To Be Alone With You was quite popular, I sort of made a name (or a pen name, lol) for myself with that fic, and I was happy to know that I was recognized as someone who “knew about love”, “explored love realistically” and all these nice things some lovely people have told me. I’d rather keep my reputation of someone who spreads the message about healthy relationships, about loving people around you and loving life, than risking this “reputation” with a fic that people are too quick to judge. I’d rather be thought of as the writer of TBAWY, not as the writer of Estranged (even though both were going to have the SAME message in the end, but fuck it).

Sorry to the ones who actually enjoyed chapter 1. And a special hug to my darling @mytargaryenchildren who’s there for me unconditionally (and i’m here for you unconditionally too) and to @hoffyphoenix for being so kind and supportive.

If I gather more strength, I’ll post the fic once GOT is over and people in this fandom chill out a little bit (assuming GOT will end well lmao). But that’s a big if.

#fan fiction #I'm really sorry to the ones who wanted to keep on reading it #it was a terrible mistake to post it in this time of the GOT season #i'm just impatient and as soon as i'm done with something i want to post it

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miedei · 3 years

Note

i actually stopped dancing after 3rd grade bc the only thing that kept me dancing was the dance club, but bc my bestie wanted to join this other club but knew no one there, i didn't want her to feel out of place yk so i went & joined the home economics club with her & ditched the dance club (also lowkey cause the girls in that club were so 😬😬😬 & i didn't know anyone there either cause the ones i did vibe with all ended up moving away dhdjdhfd)

oh and like i like usually just did folk dances, ballroom, and justin bieber's baby 💀 istg everyone i've seen has done ONE performance of that song in their lives 😭🔨 so i am not at all near pro level even if i do learn dances every now & then and sURELY I'M NOWHERE NEAR RIKI'S LEVEL SJDHJD my point stands: you're so fucking cool sjdnjjd plus we're around the same age too so🚶‍♀️

i'm more on vocals these days (learning how to sing a certain way yk idk techniques 😭) since we aren't really free to play instruments school's starting & papa makes us read our books & "no distractions" so no instruments 🤧🤧🤧

and YES AAHAHAHA THE MEME SONGS TOO HHH & same with my little sister 😭 we got a new keyboard recently & first thing she learns is heartbreak anniversary 😔💔 (we're both riki stans so i don't really blame her-)

now about the mafia band au, jayki are jusy being whipped for their insanely cool mafia/band gfs & i really can't blame them 😔🔨

(oh my god just imagined the drumstick bullets? what about their instruments being secret self-defense weapons jic a mission goes wrong & they need to help each other 😳😳😳)

- drummer anon

omg yeah i would not have continued dancing back then if my friends weren't there i did not love it at first

YOU DID BALLROOM YOURE SO COOL OMG we're around the same age? thats so cool!!!

oooh you like singing?? thats even cooler woahhhh

its been ages since i've done vocal practise since my last school didnt have a choir :(( but my new school has a good one and ive been accepted!

AHAHAH YOURE LITTLE SISTER SOUNDS AWESOME your family sounds so talented omg

ooooh this hc is so good like showing off their power but also how theyre still kids hhhhh

THE WEAPONS???? LIKE A TRANQ DART IN THE MIC??? or even a garotte as a guitar string? OOH OR A BOW THATS A SHEATHED SWORD OR SMTH

#drummer anon

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dcathwithoutglory-blog · 5 years

Text

it’s jay. again. my browser just crashed. so i’m just gonna copy and paste my old intro. there’s no time to try and make it better. rip !

⌊ priyanka chopra, cis woman, antigone ⌉ ⏀ have you spoken to ALEXANDRA “ALEXA” MEHRA recently? the THIRTY-FOUR year old who’s been in seneca for SEVEN YEARS or so? either way, they always seem to remind me of FLOWERS PLACED ON A GRAVE, A RUSTY COMPASS, STORMS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT whenever i see them on main street. on a good day they’re pretty MORALISTIC, but they can also be RESISTANT. ⌊ jay, 19. est, she/her ⌉

the story of antigone that y’all probs already know but jic.

triggers: brief implication of incest but like wbk, brief mention of suicide, death, creon bein a bitch

brief overview of antigone (character + eponymous story):

antigone was born to oedipus and jocasta.

we all know what happened there. after that, oedipus was like “see no evil feel no evil” and jocasta yeet’d out of living.

her brothers went to war against each other. when creon ascended to the throne, he allowed burial for eteocles with honors, but was like “lmao if u bury polyneices i will kill u”

but antigone was like ‘lmao SURE JAN’ and tried to convince ismene, her sister, to help her bury polyneices. ismene was like ‘ok that’s a rly bad idea like good luck but count me out tbh.’

antigone is rly bad at digging graves tho so polyneices’s body was found and creon was like ‘oh my GOD’ and she’s like ‘fuck the government viva la morality!’

then creon was like ‘ok anyway rmr when i said u wld die if u buried polyneices so ig now u have to be buried alive in a tomb’ then antigone was like ‘actually i’ll be hanging myself before u can do fuck the government’

then he was like ‘at least u’ll be dead! oh wait -

Y’ALL GO SAVE EVERYONE’ but then it was too late

antigone and his son had both killed themselves and everyone, including himself, were just like

“get WREKT creon!!!!!”

alexa ( play despacito ).

triggers: suicide (x2), death (x3), mental illness implications, war, brief mentions of torture and murder

ok now onto alexandra ! so, like i did for valda, i looked up names that shared the same meaning as ‘antigone’ (which essentially means “against”) and one of the suggestions was alexa but i also wanted it to sound. super valiant. but at the same time. i wanted it to be something that could have a conversational nickname. so im already hc’ing that she has ‘despacito’ saved on her phone. also alexandra is my middle name so like?? stan list?? OK ANYWAY.

alright, so alexandra was born to a very upper-class family. her father was a politician and her mother was a successful lawyer. they provided well for the perfect nuclear family –– two sons, two daughters, a golden retriever, two cats in the yard life used to be so hard now everything is easy cause of-

like... her early life, say birth to age 14, was... nice. actually normal and nice. have i ever done that before? has my own edgelord ass ever done that before? i don’t think so.

which is why things obviously took a turn for the worse

but yeah. when she was 14, she was like “hey mom idk how to do pre-algebra” (a mood) but there was no response from her mom. so shrug city, you know? she just went to her older sister instead. but like... so much time passed.... and nothing....

finally, this nosy bitch decided to be like “ok i’m gonna go see what tf she’s doing” and that was just... a terrible idea. instead of finding her mom doing her nails or talking on the phone or any number of reasons she may not have come out yet, she found her mother hanging from the ceiling fan.

she tried to get her brothers’ and sister’s help, and they tried so desperately to help (you know, while also calling 911 and their father), but it was to absolutely no avail.

after this hella traumatizing experience, the children grew closer as the father grew farther.

he began getting lost in his own mind, sometimes accidentally mixing the past with the present, a la willy loman style. he would hold slight conversations with their ‘mother’ while at the table, then began holding them with various others from the past. it was pretty clear that his mind had just been looking for an excuse to snap, and the death of his wife had been the perfect scapegoat.

although it had originally just affected him in his home life, he began holding said conversations in the presence of people outside his family.

this is not good for a politician.

i mean it’s not good for anyone but...

his support immediately began dropping. his team gradually left him, finding there was no way he would ever be able to gain another victory if he kept on living in a limbo between the past and the present. given that he’d started ‘talking to his brother’ during one of his speeches...

rest in peace to his career.

alexa (play despacito) was 18 at the time, her sister - 20, one of her brothers - 21, the other - 24.

they were all legal adults! some of them had even moved out! so their father figured his next move would not affect him in the way their mother’s death had!

so he shot himself.

the only people who showed up at his funeral were alexa and her sister. her eldest brother proclaimed that flying across the country would be too much of a hassle for that, and the other brother simply did not respond.

her eldest brother did, however, enlist in the army after setting legalities in place that would allow him to send money back to his siblings. he had joined simply because it was an easy opportunity (what with all of the propaganda), but his decision prompted the other brother to do the same –– this time because he was talented at ‘the art of fighting.’

and bc more money but like... get wrekt.

alexa’s sister dropped out of college to work a full-time job –– one that paid fairly handsomely. alexa took some odd jobs.

aka, everyone was trying to make money.

creon was right when he said “money! nothing worse”

so things kind of dipped when the eldest brother was killed. after an accusation that he’d become a traitor, their other brother had taken it upon himself to ‘anonymously’ torture and shoot him. but the other side did it!

which everyone knew was a lie.

because of the accusations, he was not only not allowed a military funeral, he was also not meant to be buried in any honorable fashion. instead, his body was returned to his hometown to be buried there following a quiet and uneventful funeral.

his grave was left unmarked.

nonetheless, the grave was visited every day, new flowers laid atop.

meanwhile, their other brother was considered a newfound military icon. he’d gotten rid of a ‘traitor’ (they continued to pretend it was someone from the other side, of course), he’d killed many an enemy, he’d done this and that and this and that and it all made him look so morally grey to alexa and her sister (who, granted, had yet to find out he’d killed their other brother), but like such a white knight to his fellow soldiers.

he truly rose in the ranks. it was what he was meant to do.

but the more he killed, the more he tortured, the lack of grief towards his brother’s death...

alexa’s sister wasn’t buying her hypothesis. it wasn’t necessarily because she saw their other brother was some pure being, but because she simply didn’t believe he was capable of that.

the next time alexa saw her brother, she got confirmation enough. what to do with the information, she wasn’t sure, but she knew she had to do something...

murder wasn’t the solution... she didn’t have any military connections that would allow for her to spout some lie about why he needed to be dishonorably discharged... but what he did couldn’t skate by...

to this day, she is still wondering what she can do to fuck him over. his success in the military keeps growing grander and grander, thus rendering any fake dishonorable discharge excuses completely moot. her sister still doesn’t believe that there really is a solution –– that, while it is greatly harmful, there’s absolutely nothing they can do and ruminating on it is worthless –– trying to find some quest to defeat their own brother is absurd.

although she has since moved to seneca, attracted to its small town appeal, she continues to visit her eldest brother’s grave every week –– it’s about a two hour drive, so it’s worth it.

she’s taken up work as a cemetery caretaker

because of COURSE she would.

and, although its pay is.... lousy, she’s been making due. for the tombstones no one visits any longer, first she’ll look them up to make sure they weren’t slave-owners or anything, she’ll bring them their own flowers. the dead deserve just as much respect as the living, hm?

personality.

i just realized i didn’t do this for valda (aka, i’m about to update her intro with it), but a total enneagram type 2.

too empathetic for her own good, too ‘this person whom i do not even know deserves flowers’ for her own good, too ‘i’ve got to protect _______ by doing _________’ for her own good

a capricorn

so driven by her own moral compass, she does not CARE about anything that says she has to go against it

her moral compass can be super faulty sometimes tho

pretty quick to make assumptions tbh, but has so far been right abt most of them.

so also driven by gut feelings ig

dramatic tbh. i mean she’s the adapted version of a character whose first lines contained “there's nothing, no pain—our lives are pain” SO.

also p independent (as in i said valda was independent), but her vendetta isn’t against men in general, rather just her brother who is still alive

so like,,, that said,,, holds grudges.

im bad at personality sections!! as has been stated before!! but i think the gist has been gotten across!!

wanted connections.

so rn i only have one specific one which is her sister and can be found on the wc page

will come up w/ unique ones later but until then open 2 hearing urs/brainstorming!

tl;dr.

(refer to triggers listed before the bullets.) a lot of death? like mom kills herself then dad turns into willy loman then dad kills himself. brothers both join the army. one brother kills the other brother for being accused of being a ‘traitor.’ said brother doesn’t get a proper funeral and his headstone is unmarked. the other brother rises in the rankings and alexa knows what happened. convinced her sister of it, but her sister is more logical and let her know that she was very angry too, but making her entire life about it would do nothing but endanger herself and others. moved to seneca because she liked the small town feel. still visits her eldest brother’s grave every week to leave flowers. works as a cemetery caretaker bc WHY NOT. brings flowers to graves that are either unmarked or no longer visited. i hope you read all of that and just thought ‘oh my god fckin EDGELORD’ because you’re right.

alright ! fin.

like this or hmu if you’d like to plot !

#divined.intro #i wanted 2 put my tl;dr in a blockquote but y'all my browser's being so weird SO.#ALSO if i RECALL there r like 100 typos in this i wrote it at like 5am asdfjlk PLS J BEAR W/ IT

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