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sebuckyverse · 1 year

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roommates [chapter 2]

modern!eddie munson x fem!reader

series summary: Eddie Munson broke your heart once. Now, you have no choice but to move in with him. chapter summary: Moving in, you realize Eddie has changed in more ways than one. You reminisce about that night. warnings: 18+ cussing, angst, sort of enemies to lovers lol; lmk if i missed anything word count: 3,4k a/n: part 2 loves!! let me know what you think i'm nervous about this chapter! LOVE YOU ALL tysm for the positive feedback *mwah* inspo for eddie's tat from here taglist full

↞ previous chapter ↡ masterlist ↡ askbox

chapter two ♫♪♩·.¸¸

It was almost 3am when you made it to Eddie's place. You took an Uber since Eddie claimed his precious baby, aka the shitbox van he still had, was at the shop until tomorrow, or today in this case. Eddie flipped on the lights and waltzed in, his arms open wide as he twirled around the living area.

''Tada!''

You were pleasantly surprised at how nice his place was. It was a bit messy, like he said, but you immediately felt drawn into it, intrigued to dive into the place. It was Eddie's and this was an unfiltered look into who he was today.

The living room was airy, a beige loveseat with an array of random throwpillows that didn't match each other at all in front of the TV, a a slightly dusty glass coffee table sat in front of it, topped with an unwashed mug and half empty glass of water, with a colorful Aztec rug underneath. The kitchen was white and modern with all the necessary appliances, sat against a natural red brick wall that made the space look cozy and warm. The only bathroom you were to share with Eddie was smaller than the one you had before, but big enough to fit a single sink vanity, a round mirror on the wall, a shower with a glass door and a small, but comfortable clawfoot tub. You noticed a couple shampoo bottles on the floor in the shower, along with a loofa hanging from the shower faucet. Ending in the bedroom that would be yours, it was accentuated with a king size bed, two nightstands on either side, with a big closet and a smaller dresser. It was probably the only room in the apartment that felt lifeless at the moment, you couldn't wait to transform it into your own space. Before you went to turn around, you noticed the door to the adjacent room was cracked open. It must have been Eddie's, you could only make out a few posters on the wall and a candle sitting on a nightstand, next to a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues. Gross.

Overall, you gave it a solid 7 out of 10. It was definitely an upgrade from the tiny trailer he used to live in.

''It's nice,'' you said.

''It's home.''

You nodded, hiding the yawn that tried to escape.

Eddie nodded his head towards the bedrooms and started walking in the same direction, you following suit. ''So, fresh sheets are in the dresser, towels are in the bathroom. I have a spare key lying around somewhere that I can give you tomorrow. For everything else, we can figure it out along the way.''

You nodded, holding your hands behind your back so he wouldn't see your nervous fingers rubbing against each other. ''Thank you, for this. It's only temporary, until I can get my own deposit together. Then I'll be out of your hair.''

''You don't have to thank me. It's the least I can do.''

You stopped, standing in front of the adjacent doors like the neighbors you now were. It's the closest you've been to him in a long time, both literally and figuratively. He was taller than you, in the best way, with the top of your head fitting under his chin perfectly. You braved to look up at him, finding him already looking down at you. He averted his eyes as soon as they met yours though.

''Okay.''

''Okay,'' he repeated, taking a step back. You gripped the strap of your bag and pushed your door open.

''Good night, Eddie.''

''Night.''

In the safety of your new room, all alone, you took a deep breath. You dropped your overnight bag onto the mattress and fetched out your favorite pajama set, changing into them. You placed your bag next to the bed and opened the dresser, finding your bedding. The pillowcases and duvet cover were easy, but the fitted sheet seemed to fight back every chance it got, slipping off one corner when you went to the opposite one. Groaning out loud for the millionth time, you went to try again when there was a knock on your door.

''What the hell are you doing? It sounds like a porno in there,'' Eddie's muffled voice came from the other side of the door.

''You wish. I'm just messing with the sheets,'' you shouted back, now on top of the mattress on all fours, pulling the sheet over the upper left corner. Gently, you held your hands in the air when it didn't budge and started to shimmy your way to the other side, when the sheet snapped back again and hit you straight in the face.

''Ow!''

''Are you okay?''

The door burst open, Eddie barging in, naked. Okay, he wasn't completely naked, he was wearing tight black boxers that left little to the imagination. You and Eddie never slept together in high school, but you did other things and you remember very well how his body felt against yours, or how warm he always was. You were crouched on your side, holding one side of your face, your mouth drier than the Sahara desert seeing Eddie like this. You'd never seen him naked either, only with his shirt off and you were right about him working out. His chest was more toned than before, his stomach rippled with the smallest dusting of abs, a sharp V line that you never noticed before, ending in the light thatch of hair on his abdomen that disappeared into his boxers. He had more tattoos too, he'd once shown you all of them. He had more smaller tattoos littered on his arms, just various simple doodles really. His right thigh was covered in colorful ink, starting from under his boxers and stopping above his knee. The one piece of ink that caused you to have a near aneurysm was the one below his belly button, three phrases all lined up under each other, like a tiny poem above his pelvis. Stark black ink, all capital letters.

TRUST ME LOVE ME FUCK ME

''Y/N!''

''Huh? What?''

Eddie was looking at you, brows furrowed, but his eyes held their typical mischief. He'd caught you staring, that was obvious. Even a blind person would notice that ogling.

''I asked if you were okay?''

''Y-yeah, sorry. Got hit in the face with the sheet, stupid thing won't hold down.''

Eddie snorted and held his hand up for you to grab. You took it hesitantly and he helped you stand up. ''Here, you get that side, I'll grab this one.''

Working together, you got the sheet on the bed in twenty seconds tops. You elected to ignore the way his back muscles rolled or how his thick thighs moved so smoothly, no thigh gap in sight.

''Are you working tomorrow?'' he asked.

''No, thank fuck.''

''Need me to tuck you in?''

''Goodbye, Edward.''

''Cute pajamas, by the way!''

Pushing Eddie out and slamming the door in his snickering face, you fell on the fresh sheets, barely being able to pull the covers up when you were already sleeping.

♡

Ten hours later, you were up and hauling in six boxes full of your personal belongings that you had retrieved from your old apartment. Eddie was still asleep when you left and you didn't want to wake him either. Last night was a set back for you, a mere hour after you swore to yourself you wouldn't fall for him again, you were wishing you had x-ray vision to see through those tight boxers. You blamed it all on being exhausted, you let your guard slip. Then again, that lower belly tattoo he had stayed with you all morning. He had always been a pretty guy in your eyes, but this... upgraded version of him was something much more obscene. He was his same self, personality wise, but that fact added with how good he looked in his almost mid twenties, how he carried himself with more confidence than ever before, was enough to kill a woman.

You were pushing a box of clothes across the hardwood floors, when the door to Eddie's bedroom opened, the sun from his room shining into the hallway. He was wearing pants this time, a pair of grey sweats so low on his hips, you could easily spot that tattoo again. No shirt, of course, but his messy hair was up in a bun, which you thought was cute. He'd never worn it like that. Eddie crossed his arms, leaning on the doorframe.

''Excuse me miss, are you looking for a big, strong man to help you with these boxes?''

''Yeah, you know where I can find one?''

Keening in victory, you grinned at his unamused glare towards you. Pointing your head toward the entrance, you told him about the last box.

''Thank you,'' you said, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. Eddie placed the last box next to your bed, grunting.

''Jesus, what do you have in here, a body?''

''Books,'' you deadpanned.

''Oh, what kind?'' he asked, looking around the room.

''Eh.. fantasy, romance, one Kamasutra book.''

Eddie's head whipped around so fast, his bun wobbled on top of his head. His already big eyes were ready to pop out any second. You giggled, which burst into a full belly laugh when he realized you were joking. He rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath, marching out of the room.

You busied yourself with unboxing everything. You hanged your clothes in the closet, lining your shoes up at the floor of the wardrobe, storing your bras and panties in the drawers of the dresser, leaving a couple bottom drawers empty. You stacked your new unread books on your nightstand, patiently waiting to be read. The room started to come together nicely - the dresser was topped with picture frames, one with your mom and the other with your friends at a night out, all looking at the camera with your glasses raised. The final box contained the last of your things, tiny items mostly. Your shampoo and conditioner, a make up bag, other skin care amenities, your bright pink vibrator, a gift from one of your friends, that you quickly stashed away into the top drawer of your nightstand.

Hours later, your things were put away, Eddie had gone to work, you had taken a 30 minute power nap and were now standing in the middle of the kitchen, hands on your hips, lips pursed. Now what? It sounded silly, but until now, it hadn't even occurred to you that you now have to live with Eddie. He said you wouldn't see each other much, but you lived in the same apartment, thinking you would never see each other was just wishful thinking. You thought about just chilling in your room or watching TV in the living room, maybe read one of those books you bought. But looking around the place, it was clear that it needed a good clean. A deeper investigation into Eddie's fridge, cabinets and drawers indicated that you were headed for a long night.

Lucky for you, Eddie wasn't completely helpless, or perhaps they were Steve's input into the apartment, but you found a pair of rubber gloves, a sponge and a couple of cleaning products. You cleaned the fridge, throwing out an expired carton of milk and a moldy lemon, rearranging the items so they made more sense. The cabinets weren't that bad, so you only took everything out to dust the insides. You perfected the silverware drawer, swiped down the kitchen counter and every other flat surface you could find, loaded up the dishwasher and turned it on, fluffed up the throwpillows on the couch and with a strong finish, found a vacuum and swept the whole apartment, excluding Eddie's room. You stayed out of his room, feeling like you were violating his privacy, no matter how nosy you were. Or maybe that's what you told yourself, maybe you didn't want to take a peek because the last time you saw Eddie was in his old room, in his trailer he shared with his uncle. The day that he broke your heart.

It was a hot summer night, the brisk walk to Steve's house still managing to coat the back of your neck in a sheen of sweat. Late night on the 4th of July weekend, the streets were empty, most people still in town celebrating the long weekend. The closer you got to Steve's house, the louder the thumping music got, dulling out the chirping coming from the bushes lining the street.

Pushing Steve's front door open, you were instantly hit with a thick haze, cigarette smoke lingering in the air as nobody had bothered to open a window. Teens and barely legal adults were lining the hallways, dancing in the living room to your left and playing beer pong in the kitchen to your right while Michael Jackson's Bad boomed through the entire house. You were looking around for your friends, but didn't see any of them, neither did you see the wild haired metal head who had asked you to be his date for tonight.

You shot Eddie a quick text, asking where he was. Feeling silly still standing in the hallway, you pushed through the crowd, dodging a couple making out near the bathroom, ignoring the wolf whistle when you passed two guys sharing a cigarette. Clutching your phone in one hand, you used the other one to try and pull your skirt down, suddenly feeling alone and too exposed. You'd hoped to impress Eddie tonight, putting together an outfit you didn't usually wear - a Nirvana crop top with a dark green pleated skirt, black fishnets underneath, finished with a brand new pair of Dr. Martens.

In your - then naïve - heart, you hoped tonight would be the night he'd finally ask you to be his. You'd been going out for weeks now, hanging out in his trailer, studying together, driving around in his van. Eddie always sought you out in school, smiling when he found you at your locker. He'd kiss you every time he dropped you off at home, hold your hand when you navigated the endless rows at the library, buy you cotton candy at the annual fair, call you every night to wish you sweet dreams. Isn't that what boyfriends did? Even your group of friends had started asking questions, Robin specifically. What were you - friends, lovers, strangers?

You knew Eddie and his upbringing, which is why you never pushed him for answers. The timeless classic of 'what are we' always scared every guy off anyway. You figured he had a harder time coming to terms with his feelings. However, the more you spent time together, the harder you were falling for him. Hell, you'd already fallen off that ledge a while ago and you were only sinking deeper and deeper. He was Eddie, your Eddie. Sweet and thoughtful, the way he always hummed a song when you cuddled together in front of the small TV in his trailer. You always found it hard to fall asleep when he wasn't there, lulling you to sleep.

Nearing the back of the house, you could hear splashes and cheering coming from the backyard. Breathing a sigh of relief, you picked up your steps when the double doors came in sight. Before you could make it though, someone called your name and grabbed you by the shoulder, spinning you around.

''Woah, look at you!'' Steve cheered. ''You look amazing.''

Steve pulled you in a quick hug, swaying a little bit when he pulled back. You wanted to laugh, he looked like a drunk child, bobbing his head to the music, his hair even more fluffy than usual. His eyes were rimmed red, popping open a can of beer.

''Thanks, Steve-O.'' You pushed his chest, giggling when he grabbed your hand to steady himself. ''Where's Eddie?''

Steve looked over your shoulder, scratching the two freckles on his left cheek. ''Uh, he's here somewhere. Think I saw him going to the upstairs bathroom.''

Your stomach dropped, Steve only did that when he was nervous. Why was he nervous?

''You sure? I think I heard him by the pool,'' you challenged.

Quickly grabbing your arm, Steve started pulling you towards the kitchen. ''No, no, I think that's Carver and his boys. Let's make you a drink! You look great by the way, did I mention that?''

''Steve, stop. What's going on?''

''Nothing! Just want to make you a drink, come on. What'cha want? Bloody Mary maybe?''

Steve's grip on your wrist was firm, you wouldn't be able to just pull free. Falling to dirtier tactics, you mumbled a sorry before kicking him in the back of his knee, your arm being freed when Steve tumbled to the ground, grunting.

''Y/N, wait! Don't go outside!''

Shooting a quick look back, you quickened your pace when you saw Steve getting up from the floor, rushing after you. You rushed to the back doors, the squeals and laughter getting louder. Pushing through the doors, you stopped in your tracks by the edge of the pool. Eddie was in the water with his back to you, his shirt off, but you could see his black jeans through the wavy water, his arms around Chrissy Cunningham's bare waist, her bikini clad breasts squished against his bare chest. Her arms around his neck, legs crossed on his back, she hung on to him like a koala, head thrown back in laughter.

Your arrival had gotten their attention, Eddie's head turning towards you, the toothy smile on his face dropping instantly.

''Oh, Y/N, you look amazing!'' Chrissy gasped.

Eddie said nothing, did nothing, as the two of you just stared at each other, his brown eyes shameful while yours were filling with tears, blurring your vision. Your struggled to take a breath, feeling like your lungs had just been ripped from your chest, never mind your stupid, optimistic heart.

Steve sighed behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pulling you away. He cleared the party, lead you to one of the guest bedrooms, helped you under the covers and stayed with you the entire night, sitting on the floor next to the bed, while you wept until the early hours of the morning. The next Monday, you saw Eddie near his locker, his head bowed when you passed him in silence. His left eye was blue and purple, top lip busted. Too hurt and tired, you chose to ignore Steve's bruised knuckles when you grabbed lunch with him that day.

It was always a weird game, thinking about the time you spent with Eddie. Your heart treasured the good times, but then your head caught up, slicing those thoughts in half and showing you the pain underneath. You remembered that night so vividly, having gone through the events in your mind more times than you could count.

Then you remembered seeing him at graduation. Flinging his diploma around, his graduation cap long gone somewhere with his busted white sneakers peeking out underneath the blue skirt. He was happily chatting with Wayne, who patted him on the shoulder and looked so proud of his nephew, his son really, that for that one moment you forgot about everything and let yourself be happy for him. That was until Chrissy came along, her ponytail swinging in the air and kissed Eddie on the cheek, their fingers touching. You would have gone over there and slapped that goofy look off of his face if it weren't for Robin and Nancy calling your name, causing Eddie's eyes to look up, his smile dropping instantly.

You were so mad at him, still are if you think about it longer than five minutes. Ever since then there has been a sick battle going on between your head and your heart, like you said. In your heart, you believed he felt something for you as well. Then your head comes knocking, telling you to look at the facts.

It's all true, your head said, he didn't like you, never really wanted you. You were a game to him.

You missed him at times, the boy that you once loved, who he used to be. Your first love and your first heartbreak. But what was once said and done cannot be undone. Maybe it was time to forget about the past and focus on the present. Maybe you'd forgive him enough to become friends again. They say time heals all wounds, but so far, you were still stuck in that day, unhealed and betrayed and you had no idea how to move on from that.

♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #modern!eddie #modern!eddie munson #roommate!eddie #roommate!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #sebuckyverse #roommates fic

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stirringwinds · 5 months

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I can't agree more with your post about how natural languages are intimately tied to power dynamics, culture and personal identity. To make the nation personifications magically understand each other all the time is removing the depth and potential of their relationships with each other.

Since you mentioned that Alfred's first language was a Native American language, it sounds like he was close to the Native Americans as a child, and not only the English settlers. My thought is that Alfred, the personification of what would become the USA, was only "born" after the English settlers arrived. He was raised by Pilgrims, spoke only English and didn't have meaningful contact with the Native Americans. I'm not a fan of the idea that Alfred was a Native American personification who was born before the arrival of the colonists and was "kidnapped" by Arthur, as it implies that the tribe that he represented was the foundation of the modern USA. It makes more sense to me that he was a personification of the Pilgrim settlements when he was born. What are your thoughts on Alfred's "birth" and his relationships with the personifications around him as a child?

hello, thanks for your question!

to start off, i don't headcanon that nations are born the human way, but when they come into being, there are real cultural/linguistic links they have to other nations which I model on historical interactions and influences. my conception of Alfred is that his "birth"/beginnings are linked to Roanoke (aka the so-called "Lost Colony") and Jamestown (and its famine)—less so the Pilgrims/Mayflower in Massachusetts. but that difference aside, Alfred's 'beginnings' in my view certainly stem from British imperialism and European colonisation all the same. so he is not the personification of "Native America", because this would indeed be racist and homogenising: there can't be such a singular personification but would have to be multiple personifications to begin with. All of whom are much older and culturally distinct just like how Asia/Europe/Africa as a continent doesn't have one personification. this is a similar approach I take with my Mexico OC; she is Indigenous/European and spoke Nahuatl and Spanish, but she herself didn't come into being until Spanish colonisation—and there are other older personifications like Tlaxcala and Mexica (who was the head of the Triple Alliance/what we call the Aztec Empire and rivals with Tlaxcala, another pre-Columbian political entity).

so, for me Carolina Algonquian is one of Alfred's first languages—the other is English. the reason why I think he speaks Carolina Algonquian: the real-life interactions (from cooperative (barter, trade) to neutral to hostile—conflicts that happened since obviously the colonists were encroaching on other people's land) that occurred between the colonists and Algonquian-speaking peoples (such as Croatan and also Powhatan) occurred. All these were central to the history and trajectory of the early colonies. further, the research material on early colonial America I based his character on examined the experiences of biracial/multiethnic people and the dynamics of assimilation & cultural imperialism into Englishness that occurred. i'm from an ethnically-mixed family myself, which experienced cultural assimilation because of British imperialism that also resulted in a deprioritisation and loss of our other ancestral languages, so the cultural dimension of imperialism: how people navigate these faultlines, and pass or don't pass as a dominant group is something I'm interested in exploring.

hence, while i personally headcanon Alfred as mixed-race, he is certainly not an older personification that predates European colonisation of the Americas, and Arthur claims him as his son when he finds him with the Jamestown colonists, after the famine—so he isn't really 'kidnapped' because he isn't the personification of a pre-existing, Native nation. the Jamestown colonists don't really 'raise' him either—he appears to them as a young child who can already talk and walk, and they assume he is an orphan of sorts—after which Arthur comes into the picture. Arthur asserted his power by claiming Alfred as his son—just as the English politically claimed their colonial holdings, but Alfred certainly interacted with other personifications like Croatan or Powhatan and others, because that's who the English colonists themselves in Roanoke and Jamestown met. this contact imo, was meaningful in the sense that it was important and extensive—though obviously not wholly peaceful or conflict-free. So, in my headcanon, before Arthur arrived with the relief ship that met the starving Jamestown colonists, Alfred was regarded with some curiosity and at least distinct wariness, if not apprehension, by other nations because despite his familiarity with Carolina Algonquian, they know he is clearly linked to the encroaching English colonists—and they've heard similar stories already, about Mexico and Cuba.

overall, yes, the political/cultural origins of the United States are very much connected to the British Empire's settler-colonialism. For that reason Alfred is Arthur's 'son', because he is English—but he is not just English or European, because the truth of the British Empire is that while there was a racial and class hierarchy that privileged Englishness and then whiteness generally, the actual human communities that shaped the colonies were never homogeneous ethnically/culturally. Biracial/mixed people existed—and those European colonies as a whole were shaped by the varied dynamics of Native and other non-European influences and contact—whether it was involuntary or voluntary, cooperative, neutral or hostile. that's the angle I've personally chosen to take—and I would end off with emphasising that this is just my approach—because I think there's certainly more than one way to approach Alfred's beginnings and cultural identity.

#hetalia #hetalia headcanons #i hope that explains things!#hws america #long post

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quirky-vg · 19 days

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From: Aztec Adventure: The Golden Road to Paradise (aka Nazca '88)

#Aztec Adventure: The Golden Road to Paradise #Nazca '88 #master system #sega

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forestfairyunicorn · 3 months

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Possible Fenton Invention, or Revamped:

An Aztec death whistle used to ward off ghosts or to call them forth.

Use of the device results in the ghost immediately appearing with the force of a crater impact or clearing the area out like a bat out of hell. Aka a dog whistle for ghosts

Sensation is described as "teeth and bone on fire"

Example of device:

Maddie: *blows on it for five seconds*

Danny Phantom: *crashes through the portal grappling with a ghost. Both of them shaken as if they've heard a hellish sound*

Maddie: Dinnertime.

Danny: ok

#danny phantom #maddie fenton #dp headcanons #danny phantom headcanon #Alternatively it gets ghosts into the area with a force of AY YO WHAT THE FUCK

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blackfeatherdragon · 23 days

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YGO Zexal Keyswap AU (AKA an excuse for me to engage in Aztecshipping) (I only thought this out through the WDC arc and even then there's still gaps-)(thanks to my friend usagi for helping me fill in some of these gaps)

(This is a long infodump, look out-)

-While looking for the interdimensional portal, but before adding Kazuma to the team, Byron and Faker made a trip out to a hypothetical location where they thought it would be. Faker didn't find what he was looking for, but Byron did get the Emperor's Key, so that's neat.

-Upon returning home briefly to see his younger sons, Byron gave the Key to Michael, figuring he'd love this kind of artifact.

-(Michael did in fact love it. Little nerd.)

-Byron then returned to his research, and then vanished. Michael and Thomas then end up in the orphanage, with Michael safeguarding what items he has left to remember his father (The Aztec Mask Golem card and the Key).

-Flash forward a few years, Michael is thirteen now, and due to a chain of events I have not worked out yet, the Key is activated and Michael meets Astral.

-(Michael is overjoyed at the interdimensional alien tied to the Key, if a bit annoyed that Astral's amnesiac state means he can't tell him much.)

-Michael also already knows how to play Duel Monsters already, but Astral still tries to backseat duel.

-Insert some Number hunting at the orphanage here. Michael's 'starter' Number is Chronomaly Machu Mech, and the first one he gets off someone else is Shark Drake.

-Eventually, when Michael is fourteen, Christopher/V finally comes back to collect Michael and Thomas from the orphanage. After everyone is reunited at Heartland, Tron performs the rituals to place the crests on Thomas and Michael, then requests that Michael return the Key to him.

-Michael refuses, not willing to sacrifice Astral, and Thomas, realizing that his baby brother and his invisible alien friend aren't safe in this situation, creates an opportunity for Michael to flee by picking a fight with V.

-Michael flees with the Key, only to end up breaking down later because he's now completely separated from his family, so soon after he'd thought he'd have them all back.

-Enter the Tsukumos, who let Michael stay with them for a while while he sorts himself out. He and Yuma start making friends.

-Michael is also encouraged to start attending school due to his age, and he tests into the first year of junior high despite being old enough for second year. This means he's now in the same year as Shark and Rio. This won't be awkward-

--Oh, wait, the whole situation with Shark, Rio, and IV happens. Things get awkward with Shark and Michael having to share a class, especially since Michael can't ask his brother what happened.

-Michael also continues Number hunting, though he's now racing his own brothers and Kaito for Numbers.

-Meanwhile, Yuma has also been getting inexplicably better at duelling? Despite not having Astral to help him? Odd, but okay.

-We finally catch up to where the series would have started. Michael is now fifteen and in second year of junior high, and Yuma has started at junior high as a first year. Finally, Michael and Yuma can be at the same school-

-Yuma also starts getting a bit concerned about the Key and Astral, but doesn't say much about why.

-Number hunting continues. Kaito has a WTF moment when he realizes that the guy scrambling for Numbers is Chris's younger brother

-WDC starts! Michael gets himself entered just fine, Yuma is also remarkably on the ball with entering!

-Michael and IV have at least one run in, then late on the second day Yuma and Michael witness V kidnapping Haruto. Michael only admits that the kidnapper was Christopher before he uses his crest to warp back to the Arclight family hideout in hopes of talking them down.

-But...Yuma is here. Wasn't he with Kaito a moment ago?

-Yeah. About that. Tron didn't like losing a pawn when Michael fled, and decided to just manipulate a new pawn instead of deal with an unwilling participant. And wouldn't you know it, Yuma happened to lose his father to Faker's betrayal, desperately wants to duel, and is kind of gullible, so Tron decided he'd make a good enough target, so long as he doesn't find out about the depths of the plan.

-Yuma got to learn to duel, is promised he'd find out more about what happened to his father, pretty much everything he wanted. Tron also convinces Yuma that the Key is influencing Michael like what the Numbers do to most people, so Yuma is convinced that he needs to help Michael by getting the Key.

-(The only thing keeping Yuma from just grabbing the Key sooner is the fact that Michael keeps it physically on his person as much as humanly possible, a habit picked up in the orphanage since leaving your stuff laying around there was a good way to get your stuff stolen.)

-How did Yuma get there before Michael did? Turns out, Tron decided to crest Yuma too, on the promise that it would let him control Numbers safely and protect him from having his soul taken by people like Kaito. Which was true, but conveniently left out what would happen if he lost while controlling a Number.

-In any case, Yuma, IV, and Michael all spend several minutes trying to convince each other to leave and back down before Kaito finally shows up via Orbital hangglider and forces a duel

-Insert Michael and Kaito VS IV and Yuma duel here. Yuma's signature Number is, of course, Hope.

-Duel ends, IV and Yuma flee, Haruto is returned with Yuma never being told what Tron wanted with Haruto in the first place. Tron claims his plan was simply to try and lure in Faker.

-Michael and Astral are horrified at finding out about Yuma, and end up sheltering with Shark for the night instead of returning to the Tsukumos. It's a good opportunity for Michael to talk to his classmate about what's happening/ask Shark about his interactions with IV and Yuma.

-(Shark got Leviathan Dragon instead of Shark Drake BTW. Michael still has Shark Drake, and IV was tasked with delivering Leviathan Dragon since Yuma wouldn't have wanted to hurt Shark.)

-The next day, Yuma contacts Michael and asks to talk. Talking turns into Yuma trying to get the Key in an attempt to save Michael from its assumed influence, which leads to a duel.

-Yuma finally tells Michael what Tron's been telling him and how he just wants to help/find out what happened to his father, Michael in turn tells Yuma the truth about what Tron wants/what the crest will do if Yuma loses while powerful Numbers are in play.

-They then find a way to loophole the duel's end so no one goes comatose, probably by having Yuma replace Hope with a Number not powerful enough to trip the crest.

-Flash forward a bit to the finals! Michael ends up having to face IV during the course of the finals, during which Tron taunts both of them at once. Michael wins, but is upset knowing his brother will go comatose.

-IV's last message to Michael before leaving is to tell him to keep going.

-IV: "Give Tron hell, Michael, Astral."

-Yuma saves Shark from Tron's influence as per canon, thus revealing that he's defected from Tron's side and knows what's truly up. (Tron's intention was for Shark to beat Yuma and let Yuma be cast aside once his role was done.)

-Michael and Yuma end up facing off one more time before the final. No playing around or loopholes this time, winner faces Tron and they both know it.

-Michael wins, and ends up crying as Yuma goes comatose as a result. However, Yuma does give Michael two new cards before slipping under: his signature monster, Hope, and Chronomaly Atlandis.

-Finally, Michael faces Tron and he's not happy. His brothers and Yuma are in comas, so many people have been hurt by Tron's scheming, and all Michael ever wanted was to have his family back.

-They duel. It's a mess, with Tron and Michael both giving their all, and culminates with Michael and Astral going Zexal.

-(Their Zexal form takes a lot of visual cues from Michael's gladiator outfit from the canon Yuma vs Michael duel, btw.)

-Michael wins, and when Faker takes all the Numbers, Michael attempts to save his father from being dragged in.

-Tron, realizing how far he's gone, releases all the affected souls and lets go of Michael, letting himself be dragged in to at least let Michael live.

-Seeing his father be taken away by Faker for a second time utterly breaks Michael. He decides to enact vengeance on Faker himself, storming off to the tower in a fit of rage, only to be intercepted by Yuma.

-After the breakdown plays out, the two decide to go in together to face Faker.

-Shark and Kaito end up turning up too, with the four all tag teaming against Faker.

-The gang wins, enter the second half of the series with the Barians. The only thing I have planned for the back half so far is Alito shows up and starts trying to flirt with Yuma, resulting in Michael getting jealous for 'some reason'. (He is oblivious to just how he feels about Yuma.)

#yugioh #ygo #yugioh zexal #iii arclight #michael arclight #yuma tsukumo #astral zexal #aztecshipping #keyswap au

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jlhynde-insanitybrilliance · 9 months

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UDLTTOM WORLDBUILDING RAMBLES: American Wizarding Society vs British Wizarding Society

This is like the 3rd installment of what is quickly becoming a series of long ranting posts about the lore surrounding Harry Potter & a current time-travel au I'm writing on AO3. But you don't need to have read the previous two posts to understand this one. (I still link them for those interested: pt 1, pt 2, pt. 3.) .

I think it's been fairly established that JK doesn't have much awareness of anything outside of Britain when it comes to world building. I've seen posts discussing how unrealistic the magical schools are and such. (Which obviously there can't be just 11 schools. I refuse to believe it. It exceeds my suspension of disbelief.) But this post isn't about that, but the whole societal structure of the American Wizarding society as a whole. I recently started watching my through the Fantastic Beasts films (I know I'm late to the show.) and as an American I can't help but to address some of this...

There's a lot to address & I'm sorry if this post gets a off on some tangents. But I'm just gonna jump right in with the things that bother me most.

1)The MACUSA reeks of British colonization.

As we all know, North America wasn't unpopulated when people from Europe started arriving. Native Americans, the Mayans, the Aztecs, Inuit people, and while some of them were nomadic others had established cities & advanced communities for that day in age. It was the religious zealot Protestants, aka Puritians, being driven out of England that pushed into these communities and brought with them this harmful religious dogma and pushed these people out of the homes and their lands. Like if you read into any of these cultures and their histories, you'll see that these communities were accepting of magic and in the HP world were probably very much wizards themselves.

And so the MACUSA doesn't make sense to me having been founded before the American Revolution, but after the Salem Witch Trials because in all likelihood wizards were being persecuted long before all that. Like I can't believe that the indigenous communities wouldn't have formed some sort of collective in order to combat these foreign invaders from overseas—Especially if they were wizards.

I mean so there had to be something before that, right? Like in all likelihood what I see happening is that these British wizards pushed themselves in with the Puritians (for whatever reason) and in the process brought with them their backwards views on muggles & blood politics & classism which wasn't a part of the original society. Because if you look at the indigenous histories you'll see that medicine men/women were respected members of their communities. Wizards and Muggles lived alongside each other just fine. But then the colonizers came & ruined that harmonious dynamic between the magical and nonmagical.

And that it's called the Magical Congress of the United States of America...It doesn't make sense unless that name came about after the American Revolution. Because before that it was referred to as the 13 colonies. Then it also took some time after the American Revolution for the 13 colonies to expand into the United States. (American didn't get all 50 states until 1959 with the purchase of Alaska from Russia and the forceful occupation of Hawaii.)

It makes more sense that there was a power struggle between two or more opposing Magical governments for the control of the Americas. And this would lead to a sort of Wizarding Civil War. Between the indigenous magical communities and the British, & Spanish, & French Colonies. It's a big place, huge. & it would be diced up and divided I think much more than than the muggle/no-maj community/government is.

The MACUSA being only on the East Coast makes more sense to me. (It also explains how there can only be one wizarding school in MA.) And how that school is a sister school of Hogwarts & how they are structured so similarly. Because watching the Fantastic Beasts films I don't feel like I'm watching American wizards, it more feels like I'm watching British Wizards with American accents.

And then the rest of the country is split up into districts or regions (much like it is in real life with: East Coast, Deep South, West Coast, Midwest.) where the indigenous practices and cultures are still prevalent.

I also don't buy into this idea that France and Spain would abandon their stake on the Continent. So in reality, it's more believable that Spanish Wizards would control Florida and expand all the way up to Arkansas, French wizards would Have control of Louisiana & Mississippi, East Texas, parts of Oklahoma, the British Wizards would have the colonies & maybe parts of the Great Lakes area like Illinois or Ohio, and then the rest of North America would be divided up into different territories amongst the indigenous communities.

Which then brings me to the second thing that bothers me: Rappaport's Law.

2) Rappaport's Law is a heavy-handed allegory for Jim Crowe & Segregation Laws.

As a white person, there's a lot in this topic that I am likely under informed and underqualified to unpack. It is a subject that would be better dissected by someone who understands the cultural histories and nuances better than me. But I read up a lot on random histories (because my Adhd brain leads me down some interesting research rabbit holes & I find myself fascinated by lore histories and folktales.) And I've learned a bit about the various histories pertaining to the Trans Atlantic Slave trade and how things like Voodoo made their way to America through the enslavement of various African tribes.

And again back to the British colonization, slaves were sold to the British by rival tribes & then some of those people made their way to North America when the colonies were formed , but that there was also a significant number of slaves that were indigenous to North America as well.

But how the indigenous communities were structured and how the tribal communities were structure were not all that dissimilar from each other. They both have an awareness of magic and similar spiritual practices. Again magic coexisting with muggles and what makes the most sense was that rival tribes would in fact sell the wizards into slavery and keep the squib/no-maj members of the village because they were less of a threat.

Which in turn would lead to most of the magical communities in North America being POC. Like honestly, I think they are the majority in the Americas. And the Rappaport Law, preventing the intermingling of no-majs & wizards would be heavily criticized because of the similarities to Jim Crowe and Segregation Laws.

And you might try to argue that because of the Statute of Secrecy, wizards wouldn't have any awareness of those muggle laws. But I argue that because of Slavery and most of the wizards being either slaves or negatively impacted by the European settlers would be very, very aware of those laws and prejudices & be actively fighting against them.

Like it was wizards creating and maintaining the underground railroad. It was wizards getting other wizards out and getting them away, regardless of whether or not they were magical because they were all slaves. And they would in fact still have muggles living side-by-side with them in these magical communities and spitting in the face of the Statute of Secrecy. And entire generations of no-majs would live and die in these communities and possibly even leave these communities to assimilate with other muggles and what not, but the American wizards would not be as cut off from the no-maj world like their British counterparts are.

3) Blood Politics would never be able to take root there.

Because most of them are unable to trace back their own bloodlines. It's why Americans don't have house elves working for them because it's Slavery, which they spent centuries combating and trying to escape. And why Grindelwald couldn't gain a foothold there because he was European and was actively killing muggleborns, squibs, no-majs like that wasn't their own people.

And this would also mean that, technologically, the magical communities in North America are more advanced. They are not stagnating like they are in Britain. Wizards are not a dying breed. They have a healthy growing population and low inbreeding rates, and advancements in magic and no-maj sciences. It's the sort of strength Grindelwald and Voldemort would want to recruit for their causes, but with how the majority of the continent is structured would never be able to.

[thank you for coming to my tedtalk.]

#hp fandom #harry potter #harry potter meta #udlttom #udlttom worldbuilding rambles #north america wizards vs british wizards #tomarry fic #time travel au #macusa #rambling thoughts on wizards in north america #non canon compliant #poc in harry potter verse

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