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flickering-nightfall · 10 months

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I’m pretty sure that you made a post explaining why the arm is not the umbilical but I can’t find it, so, if you did make one, can you give a link to it? Sorry if you didn’t make one, I don’t have very good memory.

I'm not entirely sure which post that is but it sounds like something I'd ramble about? I have this post talking about making a 3D umbilical and this post talking about making a 3D arm with allusions to that buuut...

If that post doesn't exist then I'll make one right now!

Here, I made a diagram of terminology I use for the puppet/arm/umbilical structure. These terms aren't necessarily canon - they're just what I use.

As for umbilicals being different from mechanical arms, it's an interpretation, I think. But there's reasons why I call them different things.

So first here's this Moon dialogue.

(I think that's vanilla dialogue? The wiki confuses me sometimes. Link here if you want to see it yourself.)

We can assume from that dialogue that the wires + cord are the "umbilical." Moon's are obviously cut, but Pebbles' are not. And Moon's puppet is still attached to her mechanical arm.

(Lots more under the cut)

Umbilicals in real life resemble the wire/cord structure far more than the mechanical arm portion does. So that's another reason I refer to the wire/cord as the umbilical.

Lemme slap some stuff from my iterator headcanons doc here.

I like interpreting the puppet as a place to focus an iterator's consciousness. It acts as a sensory hub and a means to interact more finely with their surroundings. Neurons, in turn, are active memory comparable to RAM. Moon refers to Pebbles' imprints on his neurons as "a ghost left from his processing routines." They're not meant for long-term memory storage, but upper processes such as, well... thinking... cannot be done without them. So removing neurons affects an iterator’s ability to encode, recall, and process information. (Courtesy of my friend Folly, I also think they're mostly made out of fat. Kind of gross to eat.) Although Moon's umbilical is severed, she is still able to see through and control the movements of her puppet. So either she has some sort of other connection to the rest of her can, or her consciousness comes from the puppet rather than the can. The mechanical arm’s functions would be mostly structure-to-puppet function (control movements of arm and puppet, transmit the sensory information of the puppet) while the wire/cord handles more consciousness-in-puppet-to-structure function (facilitates awareness and control over superstructure and all that encompasses). So both the cord and the arm are part of the iterator-to-puppet connection, but the cord is more important. I feel like with the wire OR the arm's internals intact, the iterator can maintain perception of the puppet. When you give Moon an overseer eye, she says, “I am not much more than what you are looking at - a little creature in a box.” This can be literal, or it can imply that her perception is just limited to what she can see through her puppet in her damaged state.

In Rivulet’s campaign, the rarefaction cell could be partial compensation for a missing umbilical. Moon can move on her arm, call up image projections, reconnect to her overseers, and broadcast locally to Pebbles after getting the rarefaction cell. She refers to it as finally having her freedom back. But we don't know how many of her systems she does or does not have access to anymore.

If you eat one of Pebbles' neurons in front of him as Rivulet he says "I would appreciate if you would not eat those. My umbilical will keep me conscious, but every neuron lost is a piece of me lost as well..." We know that Pebbles keeps his wires/cord/arm connected in Saint's campaign, though, and he remains conscious despite having no visible neurons. Does the umbilical compensate for the lack of neurons as well? Maybe there are some still alive in the structure that we can’t see, and the umbilical allows him to stay connected to them.

...honestly, I think downpour makes questions about umbilicals harder to answer than if you only base off of vanilla lore. But I like working with downpour stuff, so oh well.

One last thing - the wiki page for Moon also says this under her trivia: "Looks to the Moon is still connected to the wall by her umbilical, but the damaged hardware lacks power to let her move around." Other references to umbilicals written throughout the wiki imply the arm is the umbilical as well. But! I don't know where the writers of that got that information. I don't think there's anything in the game that confirms that the umbilical and the arm are the same. If there's anything in the game that supports that, let me know~

So to summarize: I think evidence suggests the wires + cord are the umbilical because Moon refers to hers being cut. The mechanical arm could also be a part of the umbilical, or it be considered a different part that provides function in a different way. I usually refer to them separately, but that's just me, and I mostly do it for the sake of clarity. It's not confirmed canon.

There are a lot of things about Rain World lore you can run in circles around for hours, but not find any definitive conclusions for. It's part of the fun even if it drives me nuts sometimes. Come be confused with me :)

#every time i edit this post the “keep reading” thing jumps down a paragraph #tumblr is a functioning website #ask #anon #text #images #rambles #rw spoilers #dp spoilers #saint spoilers #headcanons #rain world

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directdogman · 2 months

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hi dogman! i just picked up dialtown recently and haven’t finished the game or started the dlc, (so this stuff might be answered later in the game and i just don’t know yet, sorry) but i do have a bunch of questions about the science of dialtown that have been plaguing me since i started the game:

are all the people of the dialtown universe (sans gingi ofc) still classified as human, or are they another species? object heads are implied (as far as i can tell) to be man made creations at some point, but no one but norm has an actual human head. have they mutated to only have object heads? are they born with object heads? if they are born with the ability to get an object head, are they born with no head, or does the doctor cut it off and install an object head, are object heads technological or biological (or magical)? are they biologically capable of changing their object head from birth? the objects are clearly still made of plastic/metal/glass etc, and they’re fully integrated with the “human” body systems- the ability to blush means blood cells circulate through the non-organic (non-meat?) parts of the head, and they can feel pain inflicted to the mechanical parts just as easily (shoutout to randy for being so unfortunate). so are the mechanical parts of the objects, like wires, integrated into the human parts of the body as well? are the object heads a completely scientifically separate thing to the actual body, like prosthetic? if so, how does blood and nerve pain transfer? where are their brains? is the canonical consciousness and memory of a person in their body, since their heads can be swapped (especially when most of the objects are not capable of storing memory at all?) furthermore, since the object heads can function like the objects they represent, do printers and typewriters require ink, or have they developed ink cartridges/sacs like cephalopods? similarly, are object heads with LCD displays (like cellphones, the teleprompter, TVs etc, if those even exist in this universe) bioluminescent and/or chromatophores, since they can light up (i think) and change color? if the object heads are mostly technologically developed, and Dialtown takes place in the present, why are most object heads deeply outdated technology (typewriters and analog phones, with the most modern tech being randy’s Nokia and Karen’s printer, both of which are still incredibly outdated?) are object heads considered a completely different technological process from the technology they resemble, or is this of a cultural anachronism, (like cpu mice being called mice because their cord resembled a tail, even though they no longer have the tail at all)? is it a cultural thing?

tl;dr: how does biology work in dialtown? people can change their heads if they want, but the objects are still treated like part of the person. are object heads at all a genetic feature of the people of dialtown, or purely a technological thing, or both or neither?

apologies if i’m looking into everything too deeply- but i am fascinated by the scientific and biological implications of object heads. also, the game is great. karen is the only printer i have ever loved.

are all the people of the dialtown universe (sans gingi ofc) still classified as human

Yes, to the point where flesh heads are considered an inhuman trait now. To the point where some beloved historic figures (like Washington) are often depicted with phone heads, despite never having one.

are they born with object heads?

They're born with an adapter, and the heads are added immediately after birth.

are object heads technological or biological (or magical)?

I'd argue they're technological and biological. It's a bit like asking if a hermit crab is biological or mineral.

[] parts of the head, and they can feel pain inflicted to the mechanical parts just as easily (shoutout to randy for being so unfortunate).

Our brains have no pain receptors, but the areas around them do, so brain swelling is indeed unbelievably uncomfortable. I see object-head pain as a similar phenomenon. It's the biological pieces that cry out when the mechanical parts fail.

if the object heads are mostly technologically developed, and Dialtown takes place in the present, why are most object heads deeply outdated technology

I've answered this question before, but the long and short of it is that most modern devices aren't easy to swap individual pieces out of, while older devices (with vacuum tubes and basic transistors) can be swapped out. Imagine having to replace your entire head every time something screwed up, or having to get your repairs from a single company who makes the device. You think dealing with Apple support is bad, imagine if you HAD to go to them for healthcare!

Also, there's a cultural inertia. Crown's memory being bricked meant that his plan essentially halted and it's not like anyone had the will/ability to continue it.

are object heads considered a completely different technological process from the technology they resemble, or is this of a cultural anachronism [] is it a cultural thing?

That's complicated and to answer this question completely, I'd have to delve deeper into the rationale of the Dialup affecting non humans. The answer is it's a bit of both.

but the objects are still treated like part of the person?

They're considered part of the person, though with the acknowledgement that they can be swapped out and aren't a part of the person anymore if lost. Like teeth for us.

are object heads at all a genetic feature of the people of dialtown, or purely a technological thing, or both or neither?

Head choices are cultural, and the only genetic link to headtypes is based on how genetics influence cultural norms. EG: the tendency to give people phones or typewriters depending on the gender given at birth.

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the-far-bright-center · 8 months

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In discussions of TCW-Anakin vs. film-Anakin, I understand why some people see them as being incompatible or entirely different portrayals. But whatever problems I personally have with TCW are more to do with certain OOC dialogue lines that I don't agree with, or the overly-contrived situations that TCW tends to force him into just so an episode or scene can function as a 'meta-commentary' on his character or storyline. Believe me, I have issues with specific aspects of TCW's writing for Anakin, but the fact he's more outwardly 'suave' or 'dashing' than some people expected is not one of them. If anything, I see the 'Skyguy' persona as perfectly in keeping with Anakin as portrayed at the beginning of RotS, and I would argue that a great deal of the TCW characterisation is pulled directly from those Battle of Coruscant scenes. (TCW Anakin is also heavily inspired by Jake Lloyd's Little Ani in TPM, which, lest anyone forget, counts as FILM-Anakin.) The actual baseline 'persona' for both versions of the character isn't actually that different, and I'm tired of this idea that film-Anakin ISN’T supposed to be seen as ‘cool’ in-universe, just as much as I’m tired of the idea that TCW-Anakin ISN’T supposed to be viewed as a figure of pathos by the audience, either.

Imo, they’re both takes on the same character coming from different angles, set at different stages in his life, and portrayed through different mediums (animated series heavy on self-aware, darkly ironic humour in a more contemporary style intended to entertain and increase enjoyment of the Prequels-era and its characters vs. serious Greek tragedy with Shakespearean overtones made with old-Hollywood-style sensibilities as part of a mythic six-film saga). Just because TCW Ani doesn’t shed literal tears on-screen doesn’t mean he’s not emotional or emotionally vulnerable. As far as I remember, there's even a scene where Obi-Wan and Anakin discuss the fact that Anakin has trouble keeping his emotions hidden, which is the opposite of the 'macho' ideal the TCW version gets accused of being. And the amount of times we're constantly bashed over the head with dramatic irony about his fate as Vader in that series surely drives home the point that his trajectory is still a tragic one. (The way he cries out in agony in the Mortis arc, 'I will do such terrible things!' gets to me, every time.) Despite his powers and prowess, TCW Anakin is even shown as being physically vulnerable at times, as well. (See the Jedi Crash storyline which he spends mostly knocked-out unconscious, the nod to his mechanical arm as a liability in the Zillo Beast and Citadel arcs, and the scene of him futilely struggling like a wild beast before being captured with ropes in the Zyggerian arc, or the fact he gets captured and tortured by Dooku in 'Shadow Warrior'.) Fandom makes endless jokes about TCW Ani getting electrocuted every other episode, but then turns around and uses this to fuel the dismissive view of him as just some dumb himbo instead of understanding that this, too, is supposed to add to the character's pathos.

Likewise, fandom claims that film-Ani is 'uncool' and 'cries all the time', which is simply not true. Film-Anakin banters, jokes, laughs, makes daring jumps out of speeders, does bold piloting moves, is in fact an imposing duellist, and so on. Sure, his character is not supposed to be seen as aspirational (obviously!) and the most memorable and dramatic moments of the latter two Prequels films feature him in the midst of extremely intense emotions. But the oft-repeated view of him as 'uncool' completely ignores the fact that by the time that RotS starts, Anakin is also supposed to be a well-known and widely-admired charismatic general, aka the Hero With No Fear, who is viewed as almost singlehandedly saving the Republic. The audience may be privy to Anakin's inner turmoil, but in-story he is supposed to be seen as THE golden boy of the Jedi Order and the Republic. The RotS novelization frequently mentions that Anakin has 'dash', 'boldness', and a 'presence' 'like the Holo-Net hero that he is'. It literally says he's the best at what he does and he KNOWS it. He's not just supposed to be some sad, awkward idiot like the fandom thinks he is (rather, he's supposed to be shown as falling from a 'great height'). By the time of RotS, film Anakin has just as much swagger and self-confidence in his role as General Skywalker as he does in TCW. Just because that side of him is not the main focus of the film doesn't mean it's not supposed to be there.

#anakin skywalker #the clone wars #tcw #the prequels #revenge of the sith #rots #the hero with no fear #rots novelization #tcw as meta commentary #fandom misconceptions #tcw discourse #unpopular opinions #I guess?#this is just my opinion #no one has to agree #Prequels-Anakin is everything to me but i think sometimes he gets 'fanon-ised' in an oversimplifed way #and for all his differences TCW Anakin evokes Little Ani to me quite strongly (especially in the early seasons) and have fondness for him #my my this here Anakin guy #you can't take the Sky(guy) from me

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magicalgirlsirin · 3 months

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the elysian realm: well written, poorly directed

NOTE: this post is an elysian realm critical look by a relative newcomer to hi3, i dont really have the grace of having played it as it came out. i enjoy the elysian realm, but in my opinion, its absolutely a mess with regards to storytelling.

Part 1: so no theme?

When I titled this post, I meant it quite literally. There's plenty of stuff within Elysian Realm that is well written, I'm not here to argue that it isn't (with some small caveats). Most characters are interesting and engaging, and have a wealth of available text to further their depth. The real problem here is that all that detail and work isn't in service of anything. There is no theme to the Elysian Realm, no point of narrative, no common through line. Elysia introduces us to the realm, implies there's a point, that the 'unfinished lives' of these 13 trailblazers is going to go somewhere, and then waffles the plot all the way from the initial game mode through Elysium Everlasting, with a final cinematic which I will get to later for my thoughts on why it doesn't work.

The initial game mode that kicks off the story is just oddly paced. The first chapter is relatively fine, just serving as an introduction to the realm and its mechanics both in and out of universe. One of the first questions I had was just "why does kevin have a weird basement paradise with ai copies of his mostly dead friends and then also a version of himself and hua who are still very much alive" and I'm loathe to report that the realm never bothers answering this question or elaborating on why it exists. At risk of sounding like HoC, it really is a meaningless diversion with pointless people existing redundantly.

The second and third chapters, however, are unforgivably bad. I realized upon reflection they were probably heavy focus on Mobius and Aponia respectively because their suits were debuting at the time (or something to that effect) but it feels like such an agonizing detour to focus on them with seemingly no other motive. Learning about the two furthers my understanding of the Flame Chasers as a unit, I Guess, but doesn't illuminate anything about the realm or even Elysia.

I will get back to Elysia.

Part 2: No really, why is Mei here?

Another major problem with the Elysian Realm is that Mei pretty much ceases to be a character. Even though she's the point of view, she barely expresses any of her own opinions, thoughts, or even basic input outside of rebuffing Elysia's attempts to flirt with her. Sure, she still has some snark and sass to her, especially when interacting with Kevin, but outside of that I can barely remember anything important she does. Which is crazy! I could easily describe any other contribution she's made to various chapter sets/arcs within the game, but the Elysian Realm is absolutely dead air.

This ties into the fact that the realm has no theme, there's not a point, so Mei isn't going on a character journey. You could argue that Elysia is influential to Mei's arc for gifting her the power of origin, but that's not really... character growth. Mei becomes origin because she accepts the blessings* and ideals of the Flame Chasers, but because she didn't learn dick or shit in the actual realm, everything kind of just rings hollow. Mei functionally is meant to be a stand in for you, the viewer, to self insert into the realm and imagine that you're the one interacting with everyone, which is such a disservice to Mei.

*I want to briefly sidebar to curb the misconception that Mei was given the power of origin because she collected all the signets, or that the point of the realm was to find someone to collect them all to have that power passed along to them. Mei getting the power is unrelated to the realm's existence as far as I'm concerned, given that Hua says this:

I trust that Hua is telling the truth here, mostly because she has no reason to lie to us. What this does leave us with is, unsurprisingly, still no answer on the purpose of the realm. Vague handwaving of Kevin saying that Mei has earned the right to "seek answers" only for the narrative to do a weird slight of hand where Aponia goes "now you get to know Elysia's secret because you defeated me kyaaaaa" is not the point. I doubt Kevin allows people into his basement for the possibility of finding out some dead chick from 50,000 years ago that no one outside of WS would actually know by name was secretly a herrscher.

Speaking of which.

Part 3: The Elysia was always a herrscher reveal is dumb

I know this is the most contentious part of the discourse™ when it comes to Elysia, but I cannot understate how stupid it is. I can accept retcons of herrscher order, begrudgingly but yes I will concede if the game wants to commit to it. What I cannot concede to is the game saying that Elysia was born a herrscher.

All the Flame Chasers got MANTIS surgery. This is a fact. Elysia received it as well. Don't you think like, I don't know, literally anyone involved in the procedure would have noticed she has honkai radiation off her like a nuclear bomb? This is such a basic hole in logic and it feels like the game almost wants you to forget that this is a thing, but I didn't, I've spent the past 2 months digging through all the realm game mode text to come to this conclusion.

I also have grift with the fact that she was a previous era herrscher with sapience, since a lot of the tragedy of the previous era is because of the loss of humanity. Kevin was fucking devastated by the HoF emergence, because he hesitated. He saw Murata's face and thought she was still in there. But she wasn't. Kalpas lost Emile to the HoD. Mobius lost Klein, not only to her own over-ambition, but to HoL. Sakura lost Rin to HoC. All of these are essential to their stories, and it's because those herrschers were just mindless tools, godproxy emanators of destruction with no higher order thinking skills. Only a will to subjugate humanity.

Oh but actually Elysia is a sweet and special perfect girl who never did anything wrong, she didn't betray anyone, she was always the bestest girl who loved humanity and was a friend to everyone because she's so lovable and you should love her too ❤️❤️❤️

Yeah no I'm not doing that. I want to make it clear that I actually really like Elysia, and it doesn't take much to fix the parts of her story that have no logic or retcon themselves in the span of a chapter. She's very close to being well written, which makes it all the more frustrating that the narrative continually bends around her to make her have less flaws. Elysia is pushy! She's overbearing, and tends to needle at people whenever she notices something. She forces Mobius to try on clothes she likes but Mobi doesn't, she constantly flirts with Mei and calls their hangouts dates even if Mei doesn't seem interested, she's a little selfish and plays pranks, all of this stuff is very endearing! I just can't deal with the other things the game does to try and make me like Ely more.

Part 4: Even if I try to fix it, the realm is broken

I could sit down and outline ways to fix Elysia's writing, the way the realm's story is structured, and it would be fine and dandy in service of smoothing over the stuff I didn't like about it, but you know what it wouldn't fix?

Mei.

Yeah I think we all just keep forgetting about Mei being in here. The thing is that because the Elysian Realm is such a dead weight in canon, you almost can't make Mei go through character development because it wouldn't flow into Transcending Finality in a comprehensible way, and this post isn't about the problems with the final chapter set of Part 1 (although I do promise I have some complaints about the writing choices in there too).

The realm treating Mei as a self insert, and not really serving her arc either, is seen most obviously in "Because of You", the ending cinematic. One that famously doesn't feature Mei at all in the fighting. The ender for this arc is Elysia, because all things start with Elysia. It's Elysia Impact all the way down, except for the part where it has literally no bearing on the main plot.

And that's the problem, isn't it? The only thing the realm really does is augment our understanding of Kevin, and only barely so if you want to split hairs about how Sim!Kevin isn't our Kevin, given that there's a few stray dialogue moments that actually go against Sim!Kevin and most other characters insistence that Kevin is an immovable rock of a man.

So at the end of it all, what do I even say? I love the realm, obsessed to death with it, all the characters are my favorites, well written, absolutely dogshit in terms of story direction. I find this contradiction to be reflective of Elysia, a character who exists only as a vessel for whatever the writer/story director thought would be cool, instead of making it mean anything.

#dazzling nova #honkai impact 3rd #raiden mei #kevin kaslana #fu hua #sorry to beat a dead horse but consider i casted revive #elysian realm

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demonsplendor · 7 months

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GN Human reader x M Android

*NSFW adjacent/implied** but is mostly about comforting* *1.5k dribble *CW: mentions of blood, themes of examination

“Ah!”

You wince and exhale through your teeth. As soon as it happened you tried to not react but you were too slow, and he saw it.

He grabs your hand an inspects it, seeing the site where your skin got pinched with blood drawn. It was very little but he still made a disheartened noise, it sounded like a grinding whir that stretched along his chest. The lens that made up his face was similar to a CRT, and though normally he was cautious to keep it a blank display since the sudden lights were disruptive and disorienting, seeing your hand now caused the screened surface to flicker blue and white; concern and disappointment.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.”

His body was made up of many hard parts, mechanical parts that were necessary to keeping him functioning, autonomous, set apart from an every day computer. He was organic in some ways too, parts soft and smooth. These sections were also artificial but it didn’t matter to either of you, you would touch the side of his neck and he’d shudder. When you first did it he was in awe, “I didn’t know I could feel that.”

You didn’t either.

Sometimes he would challenge you by asking to press harder, to toe the line between accepting the artificial and embracing the machinery; at certain joints and seams you could push on in such a way you could feel the cables underneath. “It’s okay if some of them disconnect. Isn’t that so strange? There is so much redundancy built in. You can see for yourself, feel me from the inside out.”

You had too difficult of a time with with this particular act, it felt too dangerous.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

You never did, but occasionally, like now, you’d be the one to accidentally get hurt.

He doesn’t respond, just intermittently flickers and rolls your hand within his.

You press into is neck, the way that you normally felt too scared to do. Your body screams out to you to stop, projecting your own sense of human preservation into the scene. You feel like you’re going into someone’s jugular, mortally wounding them. You can rationally understand though that that isn’t the case, his anatomy was different from yours. You tease a finger into the seam and brush against a small wire. His body betrays him, his back arching, you see him react out as though a current suddenly courses through him. You smile, “Good boy. I promise, it’s okay.” “I made you bleed…”

He finally responds, twisting his neck to buck your hand away. You feel sort of relieved when he does. You like trying to show him affection in ways that are effective, intense, but sometimes the mental hurdle was too strong for yourself to get over.

“It’s hardly broken skin at all, and now we know.”

You had been curious to touch his legs and felt under his knees, to both of your surprise he reacted the way you would if you were ticklish, rapidly hinging his leg to make calf go flush with thigh but it pinched your finger in the process.

His hands holding yours did not ever have this problem, the joints smoothed, tapered, and flush. This was the most expensive sort of synthetic flesh, his hands had no spaces of any kind though he knew by how warm they always felt that they too housed something electronic. He had felt the entirety of your body, the smooth parts, the creased parts, the parts that were taut, and the ones that remain soft and jiggly with his warm hands. Never once did he pinch your skin, it never was a concern.

His legs just had different joints, once’s that were a bit more mechanical but still had the fleshy parts that he liked you to explore, but neither of you considered the potential of harm.

He was not satisfied by this.

“I should have known better.”

There was not very much intonation in his voice to make joy very discernible from upset, but you could tell by his posture, the slouch of his body, that he was bothered.

“Isn’t it way cooler though that sometimes you can experience oversight too? Get stumped? I like when we discover things together.”

“I know this seems small but,” he fidgets with your hand, “I’m scared I’ll actually hurt you.”

You wished that he wouldn’t think about that as often as he did. It frequently made a lot of things difficult, like sharing a bed together, sitting next to each other, even talking to each other. He had allowed the two of you to increasingly explore each other, even getting so comfortable as to let himself languish in post coital delirium enough times, but every time he would always snap back to reality when you would try to fall asleep next to him afterwards.

“A lot of people have ticklish knees. Mine aren’t terribly so, but it’s really cute that yours are.”

“It isn’t cute that they could draw blood.”

He continues to hold your hand as though he were holding a dead bird, feeling worse for wear by seeing the plumage all still in place and body still warm short for the limpness and single puncture.

You aren’t frustrated, you know that it isn’t the answer to be frustrated, but you must make yourself remain absolutely conscious as to not just yank your hand away nor to sigh while doing so.

Instead, you take away your hand slowly and wipe it off on your leg. You look at it closer, it really hasn’t been a big deal, you’d drawn more blood before from a paper cut. You don’t repeat this to him, you’ve reiterated enough that you don’t think it’s a big deal. You know that that isn’t what the issue is. You cup his face, never forcing him to pivot in your direction although you know that you could and he would let you. You feel a small tick of motion; you generally couldn’t tell what he might be looking at by the blank screen, but you could tell that he was looking at you. You resisted the urge to press your lips against the cold screen, you always felt a static and tickle when you did. No, you knew he didn’t really like when you do that (hazes up the display in a way that’s uncomfortable and difficult to clean,) so you resist.

“I love you.”

You can see his body shift, feel it. He tried to be very conscious and gentle and slow with his movements but you could feel how powerful and heavy he was. You were never deterred or frightened by him, you wanted to test your limits as a human partner just as much as he had wanted to test his.

“You can hug me. I want you to.”

You whispered encouragingly, you didn’t need to have your lips on the screen to feel the static sensation whenever he flickered. He may not have the ability to change tone or inflection but he’s always receptive to you and your ability over yours.

After much deliberation, he wraps his arms around you and leans a little bit into you. You’re kneeling across from each other, your knees nearly touching but he consciously applies some space. It was the inside of them that had hurt you, but he doesn’t want to take any chances.

You beam brightly at him before smoothing your palms down his neck, wrapping your arms around him and diving over. You pull him closer to you, you wouldn’t actually be able to get him to budge but he lets you.

“Good boy, there he is. There’s my boy.”

You bury you face into his neck, he hums a kind noise, one that was not as charged or intoxicatingly as the one earlier.

“I love you too. I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for… ruining the mood.”

“You didn’t ruin the mood at all. We can stop for any reason at all, and you felt alarm. It’s okay, I promise it’s okay.”

He hated lip service, he didn’t think that he or computers in general were all knowing, but he couldn’t grasp how niceties like a promise could hold so much weight, especially since you yourself could not tell the future. You feel his body tense in a way you should have predicted and you laugh, you laugh into his collarbone and it still has the effect of softening him.

“I’m sorry. I know that’s not the right thing to say. How about… we know moving forward to not try that again. We can stick to what we know for awhile. As for now,”

You give his neck a peck before setting your chin on his shoulder, looking back at your hand. It now nearly looked like nothing had ever happened to it.

…You also didn’t really like when he fretted over you, feeling kind of patronized when he doted over every ache, pain, illness you had, but you know he only did out of concern…

Because of this, even in good spirits, you can’t help but roll your eyes out of view when you feel him pick you up, his hands cautiously rubbing up and down your back as though you’re a child with a fever , after you tell him,

“I can go wash my hand and you can… put a bandage on it afterwards…”

#exophilia #android #monster boyfriend #reader x monster #original writing #Terato #monster romance #Robophilia #robot x reader

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ownedbythescribe · 1 year

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Zhongli | In Beloved Memories

ıllı Synopsis: "Under this night sky I dance.…” Centuries after Guizhong's death, the Archon War, and Cataclysm, you opted to leave Liyue and travel the lands of Teyvat alone. Yet, nobody could escape the pull of fate. What awaits your pained soul as you return to Liyue once more?

ıllı Genre: Slight Angst, Fluff

ıllı Warnings: Character Death

ıllı Part 2: Zhongli - In Beloved Stars

ıllı A/N: This contains spoilers for 3.4 Lantern Rite event, and a Zhongli x Fem!Reader story. Happy Lantern Rite!

Longevity could be a blessing or a curse depending on a person’s perspective on life. One had the opportunity to see and enjoy the world to its fullness, while on the other hand, it would mean watching those that you love fall into eternal slumber. Two sides of the same coin that could be flipped with a flick of the hand. Happiness, sadness, regrets, and fulfillment could be felt in one lifetime. Truly, longevity was one burden to carry.

Born as an illuminated beast, you were fortunate to meet the God of Contracts and the adepti under him. You did not sign a contract to serve Liyue, but you were kind enough to help them in times of need. Whether it would be to help shape the land, teach humans agriculture and mechanics, or fight monsters that tried to seize Old Liyue. You met countless important figures because of these, and you treasured every memory to heart.

Before the Archon War, Morax invited you to some tea with his friends. It was not the first time that he wished for your presence, but this time was different. He wanted to introduce two of the people, an adeptus and a goddess, who were of the same interest as you. The curiosity to meet them overpowered your shy nature, so bearing gifts and wearing a beautiful yet convenient hanfu, you went to the said location.

Upon landing on the lake of Mt. Aocang, you glanced around to look for a familiar silhouette. A series of footsteps to the right caught your attention, and you saw Morax in all his glory. The God of Contracts was, indeed, a handsome man that even you were not immune to his charms, but at this point, it was more of a seedling yet to blossom.

“(Y/N), you’ve finally arrived. I take that your journey here was smooth sailing?” He asked. You gave him a nod before materializing the food that you brought for your get-together. It consisted of Bamboo Shoot Soup, Qingce Stir Fry, Minty Meat Rolls, Lotus Crisps, and Padisarah Pudding which you learned from Sumeru. You heard a gasp from behind Morax and noticed a small figure with sleeves covering her lips. There was a noticeable glint in her eyes as she stared at the pudding. It made you lightly laugh at how adorable she looked.

“You will love the Padisarah Pudding. I’m sure that none of you have gone to visit Sumeru, so I brought one dish here that I enjoyed there. I am (Y/N), may I know your name?” You politely asked. The figure stepped from behind the tall male and gave you a closed-eye smile.

“Guizhong, my name is Guizhong. It is nice to finally meet you, (Y/N)!” She grinned, taking your hands in hers. Morax coughed out loud, making you two look at him in confusion. He sighed and stepped aside to show another person (or rather adepti in this case). He introduced her as Streetward Rambler whom you could call Ping.

Meeting the two was such a delight. Their brilliant minds allowed your creativity to rise and take hold. This gathering was the start of a bright friendship that you all cherished for life.

“Guizhong? Ah… I see you’re still on the design of the ballista. Have you put thought on who could utilize it?” You inquired, finding an empty seat by the goddess’ workshop.

Guizhong paused on her drafting, giving your question a thought. It was you who showed Streetward Rambler, Cloud Retainer, and her the resolve of humans, and she thought that if ever problems arose and they were put in danger, they should be able to use it. She gladly told you that its function will mostly be used by the adepti for now. As soon as it has been tested to be effective, then she will make it accessible to humans.

“And I already have a name for this wonderful one, (Y/N). It’s Obscuro Vulpes.” She proudly stated. Dark foxes, the name must have been derived from the little creatures you two found below the mountains. She was always curious about everything around her, and nature had been her friend for as long as she could remember.

“How about you, (Y/N), have you finished the idea that you presented to me last week!? I am looking forward to the finished product!” She piped. You nodded and materialized the scrolls containing your idea. It was simply a large-scale telescope that could be adjusted through plausterite minerals. This way, even humans will be able to watch out for enemies from afar. Aside from that, you also devised other mechanisms derived from the technologies in Sumeru. Their technologies far surpassed the current ones and had the similarity to that of the godless nation. It was amazing how their minds worked in different ways than yours.

“Oh my! If we can partner this with my mechanism, it will be easier to deal with large monsters. Even humans will be able to spot their weak spots through this!” Guizhong marveled. You nodded, also amenable to the suggestion. As she gushed about the joint project you two could have, you pondered upon the possibility of creating a similar device to that of the God of Woods. It was merely a glimpse that you saw, but it served as a treasure box that intrigued you.

“Guizhong, I actually have something to tell you.”

Days later, Guizhong and Cloud Retainer posed their creations to Morax. The God of Contracts analyzed each device and deemed the Goddess of Dust’s creation as superior. Cloud Retainer was a bit bitter, but she could not help her amazement as well. As for you, you preferred not to participate in their little games. It was much amusing just watching from the sides.

“Hmm? Ohhh, Ping? That guqin, may I hear you play it?” You asked, sitting beside her as the other three continued to discuss what could be improved with the ballista.

“You’re not going to join them?” She asked, strumming the strings of the instrument lightly. You shook your head and told her that you were contented watching them bicker.

“You’re a peculiar one, (Y/N). A passive immortal, who could pass off as a god, yet you desire only to enjoy the world.” She uttered. It was a first for somebody to voice their opinions on you. Morax would do so too when the atmosphere was jovial, but never like how Ping did it.

“Hmmm, it might be because this world has a lot to offer that I’m overjoyed watching everything unfold. I don’t find delight in lives lost, but I learned from a friend that sometimes, we have to appreciate the smallest things like humans do. Although they can get distracted by selfish desires, they have their moments.” You replied, allowing your power to manifest and create silver leaves. It flowed before riding the wind, letting it take wherever its destination might be.

Ping smiled at the musings, finally striking the first note. Her music brought shivers to your body and you swayed to its beauty. What you did not notice was Morax’s eyes on your smiling figure. He, too, did not harbor feelings yet, but the sight of you enjoying his friend’s music was mesmerizing. The wind gently blew your strands, and the silver leaves circled you like sakura blossoms of Inazuma.

“Beautiful… (Y/N) is truly beautiful.” Guizhong whispered. She was captivated by the scene in front of her.

“Truly, another memory to be cherished.” He patted her head.

Months had gone by, and your days were filled with combinations of joys and sorrows. As strange as it might have been to others, you spent most of your time in the human realm. Guizhong and Morax would often join you in their own forms, while the others remained in their abode. As for Ping, you only had twice the chance to drag her to join you in mingling with humans. However, those days were also filled with sorrow as you encountered lovely humans who received early deaths. It was tragic as you could feel the loneliness and regrets lingering whenever there was a funeral. Parting and moving on was always difficult.

“If that is so, how will we, the adepti, move on properly when we carry each memory like gold?” You thought out loud, curling up your knees to your chest as you watch Guizhong and Morax from afar. The sea of glaze lilies engulfed their figures, and you were not going to lie. At that time, they looked good together.

‘Harboring such feelings for a friend, really? Seems a bit foolish for somebody like me, yet I continue to indulge. Guizhong, you truly are lucky.’ The selfish desire flickered but was extinguished the moment they turned to you, holding out their hands for you to join.

‘Yes, my love for these two is greater than any selfish desire for a relationship.’ You thought.

Life continued as it is. You visited places to gain inspiration on what could be created to improve Liyue’s living conditions. The trust built upon years of banter and battles strengthened your relationship with your companions. Such a time came when Guizhong wished to create simple melodies through her mechanisms, a simple and innocent desire so one would say. However, Streetward Rambler believed music to be an expression of the soul. There had been debates going on between these two, and from what you’ve read, Morax confiscated the bell for ceremonial uses.

“These two, really. However, I am glad that they are all doing well. I can’t wait to get home and show them the fruits of my travels.” You voiced. It had been months since you last saw them, and only through letters sent using adepti arts could you contact them. It was truly dejecting how you had been invited by a friend to Fontaine for ‘old times sake’ purposes when in reality, it was to ask for your wisdom when it came through engineering.

Sadly, it was also during your travels that the Archon War began. Many lives were lost to time, and you feared for your friends’ lives. As quickly as you could, you traversed the entirety of Fontaine to get to Liyue. There was too much bloodshed on the land. Villages were destroyed, and your help only posed minimal help. Luckily, several adepti were ready to lend their aid. Whatever psychotic idea Celestia had for pitting gods against each other proved to be disastrous and inhumane.

“Where are they? They… can’t be that far right?” You huffed, tired of pushing yourself to the limit. Remembering one certain place, you pushed your legs to speed up and jump over ridges of rocks.

“Wait, is that them?” You squinted hard to see what was happening, only to see the yakshas sealing somebody. It was a familiar figure. The way she hugged her legs, and the scent of glaze lilies and blood in the air signaled who it was.

‘Gui…zhong? T-That can’t be right. You’re not really dead, right?!’ The dark thoughts that you desperately kept at bay froze you in place. One of the people you cherished succumbed to eternal slumber, possibly at the hands of a cruel god. Her struggles to defend and protect were not rewarded.

“Why…? You promised that we will have more Padisarah puddings when I come home. Guizhong? Guizhong! Guizhong!” You shouted, tears finally falling in an attempt to reach her. However, your hand was pulled back by the God of Contracts. He did not shed a tear, he remained fierce. It pained you.

“Morax, why do you not shed tears!? She’s gone! I wanted to spend more time with her. What is this cruel game!?” You asked. Morax could only shake his head. He, too, felt immense pain at the passing of a dear beloved, but the war was still ongoing. There was no time to grief just yet.

“She sacrificed herself because she loved her people. Her wishes will be honored, so let us go after this and continue the battle.” He ordered. The adepti gave a series of solemn agreements. However, you were irrational at this point and thought that it was too heartless not to grieve even for just a moment.

‘I’m in so much pain, but I will do my job and protect Liyue in your stead.’ You watched them complete the sealing, leaving only four items as her memento: the cleansing bell, the ballista, the Memory of Dust, and the ankle bracelet that you gave her as a token before you left.

Right after, you turned to Morax and bid your goodbye. It was too painful to be with them, so you opted to go far. You gave them a promise thought that wherever you may be, you will do your part in protecting Liyue. Morax wanted to argue and have you stay by his side, but your mind was already determined.

‘Stay safe. Please come back to me.’ He thought.

That was centuries ago. After Guizhong’s death, the establishment of the Seven Archons, and the bloody war with Khaenri’ah, you opted to leave and travel alone once more. Each nation changed in response to the cruel fate given by Teyvat and Celestia. The cycle of happiness and sorrow continued. You found it especially hard to move on. Not only did you lost a friend, you also lost a budding relationship.

“Under this night sky, I dance. The sorrows that dwell slightly perish. And flowers beneath shall grow in moonlight.” You voiced, walking through the waters of Sumeru. The Nilotpala Lotuses were luminous tonight, and the wind called you for a little dance.

Although Sumeru brought you great comfort, you wished to return to Liyue once again, so you grabbed your belongings and traveled to Guili Plains. It was only right to visit her.

It took hours to get there, and its beauty remained. It was such a shame that the sea of glaze lilies that covered the area was now drifting in the wind of the past. The magnificent sight would have brought you closer to her soul, but you knew that she was far gone. So in return, you let the wind chime and danced with it.

Nighttime travelers and patrols were surprised to see somebody dancing above the lake. You paid them no mind, eager to release what you had been holding in your heart, the regret of nothing being there. It went on for days, a nightly routine you might say, while you stayed in Guili Plains before moving again.

“I hope you liked it, Guizhong.” You whispered, ending the song with an elegant turn. Suddenly, a clap resonated behind you, causing you to let out a startled noise. An old woman standing behind you, but her aura said otherwise of the claim.

“You… Your aura reminds me of a dear friend. Ping, is that you?” You questioned. She softly smiled and nodded. Tears gathered in your eyes as you rushed toward her for a tight hug. She equally gave you one, missing an old friend who left to defend people on her own.

“I’m glad you’re back to Liyue, (Y/N). You’re alive, safe, and breathing. I’m most grateful.” She whispered, gently caressing your head as a grandmother would. A smile bloomed in your face as you nuzzled further into her chest.

It felt like time has paused for a minute, but you knew that there was no such thing. Gently pulling away, you asked her why she had taken the form of an old woman. Her answer made you understand her deep love for their departed friend.

With a smile, you left your post and told her that you will commemorate such a reunion with song and dance, a delight you learned from Mondstadt. You brought forth your power and activated your adepti arts, letting the wind chime once more. Soon, you fell into step with the sound, each turn and dip of the body showing elegance. It etched into the Streetward Rambler’s mind how it mirrored their past, the emotions conveyed making her tear up.

Once you were done, you materialized a stone table where you two sat down for tea. Ping talked about what happened years after you left Liyue. What intrigued you were the disciples they took and that a traveler had come to aid Liyue when Morax fell. This caused you to worry.

“What do you mean, Ping?” There was evident fear in your tone as well. The old woman lightly laughed and assured you that Morax simply left divinity in hopes of wishing to enjoy mortal life. You let out a sigh and thanked her.

There were more stories shared between you two, but Ping wanted to ask one question. She turned to you who had been rambling about Fontaine’s expensive alcohol.

“Will you be staying here in Liyue, (Y/N)? Finally allowing yourself to rest and maybe, interact with him? He missed you just as much as we did. More so, we see him visiting the Luhua Pool more often. Isn’t that where you and Guizhong would go play after tinkering with your devices?” She urged. There was silence permeating through the air before you broke it, shifting your skirt to face the warm sunset.

“I haven’t… moved on completely. It still hurt, but I know that we all are suffering great losses after the Archon War and other battles called by Celestia. Unnecessary deaths could have been prevented, but the loom of fate stands as it is. Maybe soon, but not yet today. Just not yet.” You whispered the last part to yourself. There was still one more thing left to do.

“I see. How about you join this year’s Lantern Rite? I surmised that you have yet to truly experience it with your own eyes. The harbor welcomes any guests from afar, don’t worry.” Ping assured, seeing the unsure look on your face. You were about to answer when you felt another familiar swish in the wind. Immediately, you dodged and jumped up, landing perfectly on still waters.

A young man, wearing a demon mask, stood in front of Ping and pointed his spear at you. You were about to complain when you squinted hard to analyze the new person. It was Xiao, the youngest yaksha adopted.

“Ohh, Xiao! It’s been years! Have you been well?” You jovially asked. He was confused for a second until Ping ordered him to put his weapon away and relax. She told him to focus his energy on you to recognize the familiarity you exude.

Doing as told, he put off his mask and concentrated. It was indeed familiar, it resembled that of the eccentric immortal that would be seen with the God of Contracts. He recalled your name and carefully uttered it out loud to which you grinned. Swiftly, you dragged him down for tea to bother him with how he was doing. He was hesitant but still spoke of the truth. You heard that he accumulated karmic debts that would often torment him at night, but he assured you that he was taking medicine to push it off.

“I see. This may not be that much help, but I hope you’ll be able to take it. I made this device back then for Inazuma, but it could only function at a smaller perimeter. I’d claim that it can help with what you have, but you have to see it for yourself. Please, don’t be shy and take it.” You urged, giving him the device that floated in the air. It gave off warmth that made him crave it. Having no issues, he took it before telling you two to be safe as he will be going out for patrol.

“Ever the hardworking yaksha. Hmmm? Are you curious about that, Ping? It’s merely a device that could erase the ‘karmic debt’ little by little. I reckon that what he is suffering from was similar to that of god’s residue, so I invented this one. It‘s not extremely effective as it takes time to dilute the residue to elemental particles, but it should ease the bindings.” You explained. Ping was amazed by such a creation, and truly, the brilliant mind you have will take you places. However, she knew you were kind and humble enough not to abuse anything in your hand.

“Ping, I actually have a favor to ask.”

It was almost nighttime when you arrived at the harbor. They were already preparing for the festival, and it warned your heart to see children playing around. Liyue was now home to these people. They will cherish and defend it as much as you all did back then. Now, it was time to leave it to them.

You sighed in contentment before scanning the crowd. You were in for a specific shade of brown that Ping mentioned. After watching people pass by, you finally saw him. Morax—Rather, Zhongli was there, sitting around a table and drinking his tea. The storyteller was enacting bygone stories that seemed exaggerated for mere entertainment to the point that it was amusing. It did look like he was integrating well into human society.

“Zhongli! Hey there! Didn’t expect to see you here.” You saw him conversing with people, and you were happy enough to see him. Now, it was time to enjoy Lantern Rite on your own, but before that, you wished to give him a small gift.

“Happy Lantern Rite, Morax.” A translucent teal feather slowly landed in front of him once he was alone. His eyes widened at the sight before a genuine smile made its way to his eyes.

“You’re… safe and well. I’m glad. Truly happy to feel your presence again. I shall wait until you’re ready to face the future again.” Zhongli whispered to himself, hopeful for a lovely reunion with you.

Please do not copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!

#genshin impact #zhongli #zhongli x reader #slight angst #fluff #lantern rite

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comicaurora · 1 year

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As a fan of D&D and animated shows, have you been keeping up with the legend of vox machina?

Yea! I haven't seen the very latest episode yet but I've watched the first five.

I continue to enjoy how it's treating the original game as a first draft and doing some rearrangements in the adaptation to improve pacing, flow, and general sense-making - like how Vax's extremely busted Boots of Speed have been integrated into the functionality of his god-champion-artifact armor, and why they changed Vex's near-death experience last season to Keyleth taking the bullet for her because Vex's actual-death experience this season was going to be very important story-wise but mechanically played out very similarly to the first one (one-shotted by dark magic in an area that suppresses magical healing) and having it happen twice would've weakened the impact. Personally I think in an ideal world we'd be getting a lot more time per season to let the characters breathe - the pacing of the original series is frankly very slow, bordering on unwatchable for certain attention spans, but the pacing of this season is kinda breakneck in comparison and characters are getting big upgrades and moments of revelation quite often, which isn't bad but feels like it could have a little more punch if they had a longer windup. Still, that's the nature of the level-based beast and it's not a complaint, just a little tickle in the back of my head.

The animation continues to be gorgeous, and while the 2D-3D blending of the visuals feels a little weird sometimes, I think it works in-story that the 3D-rendered dragons look very different to everyone around them, since it makes them feel more otherworldly and terrifying. I also like that they don't really look like their Official D&D Counterparts, and the way they've respec'd their breath weapons into things like "wings constantly leaking acid" is really neat.

I also think the way they've shifted the magic system is very interesting. D&D has extremely hard-magic rules on who can cast what spells at what time based on what they know or have prepared. The show dials that way back and treats it a little more hand-wavey, though they'll still hint at the spell slot system with casters being like "sorry I'm out of juice" or "I think I can only do it once a day" which is cute. But this shift to a softer magic system does mean the more versatile casters, mostly Keyleth, seem like they can kind of just do anything depending on the needs of the scene - which is obviously not what is mechanically happening, but because we can't see her spell list or class features it's kind of what it feels like. She has all the standard element-manipulation and druid shapeshifting/treehugging stuff, but we also see her bust out the power of the sun and turn into a giant fire monster, which doesn't feel quite as connected to the rest of her powerset - it makes sense if you squint, but in the moment there's a little lurch of "where did THAT come from?" Now that's not bad writing on the show's part, it's a holdover from the inconsistency of D&D's spell lists. It DOES feel weird that a wind magic specialist could cast Sunbeam just because they hit level 11. Narratively what this indicates is that Keyleth is frankly ridiculously reality-warpingly powerful and doesn't really know her own strength yet, which is top-notch characterization and very consistently demonstrated in-show, but it does invite that one storytelling bugaboo of "how are the heroes gonna solve this one? …………magic." It's subletting a townhouse in the suburbs of The Power Was Within You All Along.

Overall really liking it so far!

#asks #not aurora #media recs

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tenpintsof-sundrop · 7 months

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Downhill (Preview)

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

cause I went downhill at such steep incline...

Word Count: 2,080

This is a fanfic preview! So feedback and comments are greatly appreciated. Writers always thrive on feedback <3

Warnings: this takes place during Half-Blood Prince - there are mentions of Draco's mission to kill Dumbledore and him being tasked with fixing the Vanishing Cabinet to let Death Eaters into Hogwarts, mentions of Draco being forced to become a Death Eater (mostly against his will, with the emotional pressures of 'family duty'); mentions of death/murder in line with the HBP/DH themes; the reader and Draco are engaged - arranged to be married because they are both purebloods (the reader is an orphan and her only living caregiver 'sold' her to the Malfoys to be married to Draco, but her and Draco have grown emotionally close because of this); mentions of dead animals - more specifically a dead bird (the bird that dies in the Vanishing Cabinet); passing mention of Cedric Diggory's death; general emotional angst from Draco's perspective because he is feeling very trapped and hopeless because he feels that he will not be able to complete his mission successfully and he will be killed (and get the reader killed in the process); passing mention of the reader having lived in New York before she met Draco; passing mention of the reader 'wearing' Draco's jacket (over her shoulders, not putting it on, and it specifically says that it doesn't fit her well); there is an argument where Draco takes out his fear/frustration on the reader verbally and he grabs her arm roughly - this is not healthy in a relationship, but they are both trying to function under severe circumstances (also it only happens for a moment and it's not a pattern); mention of Draco being thin/losing weight due to improper eating (from stress); this part does not have smut but the longer/full fic will have smut once it is finished and posted. I believe that's everything for now.

A/N: This fic is titled after the song Downhill by Lincoln, so if you want to know the vibes of the overall fic, definitely listen to that song. It's a very Draco song with the 'if I meant every word that I ever said, you'd probably question the life I have led' - because in his bullying, he probably has just said a lot of harsh things without meaning them. And in this fic, the reader met him after the bulk of his severe childhood bully phase, so she didn't know that he used to be a very outwardly cruel person. I also love the 'I was born into the world on a silken cloud, and I got bored of the world before I hit the ground' - because Draco was born into so so much privilege and he didn't even realize how lucky he was, and now that his privileged position is forcing him to take on a murder and a lot of undue stress, he wants to go back to blissful ignorance. (Basically, it's such a Draco song, and it really really drove home the themes of this fanfic idea for me.) Anyway, I'm really excited about this fic, and I hope you enjoy this preview!

...

Draco brought you to the back of the large room, and you saw that he had already pulled the tarp off the overwhelming tall, ornate Vanishing Cabinet, so the dusty cloth was sitting in the pile at the cabinet’s feet. Without a word, Draco walked up to the cabinet, moving in stiff mechanical motions as he pulled open the doors. You took a few steps closer to get a better look, realising that he was trying to show you whatever was inside - that must be where the primary problem was located.

You couldn’t hold in the gasp that broke out of your throat when you saw a dead bird sitting in the bottom of the cabinet.

A bright yellow canary laying against the dark wood, belly up and completely still with its soft feathers rustled, a few of them missing. You had seen very few dead animals in your lifetime. Aside from the occasional New York City pigeon, laying on the sidewalk in a similar fashion after running itself into one of the hyper reflective windows of the tall buildings. You couldn’t even stand to look at those for too long. You still felt the same deep heartache while looking at it.

“Oh - oh my.” You gaped quietly.

Draco was entirely surprised when you shouldered him out of the way, letting his ill-fitting borrowed jacket drop off your shoulders onto the dusty ground carelessly as you crouched down carefully in front of him. You then scooped up the small bird in your hands, cradling it gently as though it were entirely precious.

He thought that seeing the state of things, you might start suggesting spells, telling him ways that he could fix the obvious problem. But no - you were soft-hearted. The true problem hadn’t even occurred to you yet, because you were so caught up on the sight of a dead bird. You were emotional, struck by the shock of an innocent animal having its life prematurely ended.

Draco envied you quietly for a moment as you sat on your knees in front of the cabinet, looming in his shadow as you held the bird in your hands. He realised that in order for you to be so startled over this, so heartbroken - it must be one of the first times you had been brushed with death. Draco envied that naivety.

He wished he could rewind to the version of himself from a few years ago. A version that thought not being able to join the Quidditch team because of an age restriction was the worst tragedy in the world. A version that thought he got everything he wanted because he was genuinely deserving of it. Someone who couldn’t see that he was simply a spoiled brat.

He wished he could go back to a version that hadn’t seen Muggleborns slain in his family’s dining room, begging for mercy where there would be none.

When he had first seen that bird sitting dead in the cabinet, a still dead body draped in yellow - for a moment, he had been reminded of Cedric Diggory. Someone so undeserving, lifeless before their time. Used up and gone.

But now, seeing the way you cradled it, fussing over something already dead and unable to benefit from your care - Draco was distinctly reminded of himself, withering and undeserving in your arms.

“Draco, do - do you think we should bury it?” You asked, the gentle croak of tears in your voice as you considered a pointless funeral for the small dead thing.

You suddenly rose up to your feet then, walking around Draco to look for something to wrap the poor bird in - some kind of cloth, or perhaps a small box to place it in.

This caused something inside of him to snap. The way your sweet demeanour ground against his nerves, his worry, his anxiety about everything mounting suddenly as you fussed over something that truly didn’t matter.

Your good intentions would get you killed. That gentle touch, that willingness to help - it would get you on the wrong end of a Killing Curse one day. (Especially if he didn’t protect you.)

“It’s not about the bloody bird, woman!” He growled out, entirely frustrated with your delicate ignorance, your lack of seeing the true point.

Draco turned to you, and grabbed your arm so viciously that your palms jerked and the small, lifeless body dropped onto the floor without a single bit of grace. It dropped against the cold stone so carelessly, as though it were an object that had not once had any life in it at all. You let out another gasp at this, and looked from the dull tuft of yellow feathers at your feet up to Draco’s face.

“Draco!” You cried out, protesting against his careless nature toward the innocent creature.

His fingers were gripping your forearm fiercely, blooming small bits of pain - but you didn’t care. You felt a clench in your gut, distinct guilt overwhelming you. You told yourself that his anger was misplaced. You didn’t have words, especially not while he stared you down so coldly. All you could do was stand tall, and stare right back, even while tears formed in your eyes.

He tightly clenched his jaw.

You were surprised when he spoke again.

“How can you be so daft?” He said, almost choking on the words.

That was when you knew for certain it was misplaced. He had called you brilliant before - it was one of the only things he had said about you that wasn’t sarcastic or backhanded in some effort to deter you. He didn’t think that you were stupid, not one bit.

“Look, you know if I don’t get this thing working-” He couldn’t even finish his sentence before his throat closed around the words, threatening harsh sobs that he was desperate to contain.

Instead, he turned abruptly, letting go of your arm - now completely uncaring of the misplaced conflict. You felt a wave crash into your chest as you realised it. How could you have been so stupid?

Of course, he had no care for a small animal.

It was about what that animal represented. His failure. Death looming over his head.

The bird had obviously died in the cabinet, which meant that a living thing had yet to survive the transition from Borgin & Burke’s into Hogwarts. If Draco couldn’t fix that problem - if there was some sort of problem when the Death Eaters tried to use the cabinet to get into Hogwarts and one of them died, Draco would be on the line for it. If they couldn’t use the cabinet at all, Draco would be on the line for it.

They would kill him if he couldn’t get this right.

Draco moved slowly, putting a hand on each of the cabinet’s doors and closing them.

Then, for a few long, painstaking moments - neither of you said a thing.

Your chest ached. You wished that you could find something comforting to tell him. For some reason, you knew that simply telling him ‘it’s going to be okay’ just wasn’t going to cut it. You muddled in the silence and you hated it.

He stood with his back still turned to you, with his arms outstretched, leaning on the tall, imposing wooden object. It felt like a shadow of death looming over the two of you. His shoulders held nothing but pure tension, even as he used the object for support, and he dropped his head between his spread arms.

After a few moments of that terrible silence, with you staring at his back, tossing your mind for something helpful to say as you chewed at your own lip - Draco took in a shuddering breath. Though you knew he was trying to hide it: he began quietly sobbing.

You couldn’t help yourself then.

It was something you knew he pretended to hate, but you knew what to do next. You stepped forward, over the dead bird, your shoes quietly clacking against the stone - and you settled yourself right up against his back, tucking your body tightly against him in a hug. You nuzzled your face into the tense muscles of his shoulders, and as you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind and squeezed him tightly, you felt some of the tension melt away as he relaxed into your touch.

You did worry about how much thinner he felt in your arms than the last time you had done this - obviously, he hadn’t been eating properly. But you didn’t bother to bring it up, not wanting to start another argument.

Draco felt a grateful warmth spread over him. But he refused to touch you back. At least just yet.

He kept his hands on the wood of the cabinet, almost like a bold surrender that he wouldn’t give into your softness. He couldn’t. He let out another shuddering sob - a sound he couldn’t contain with the feeling of your warmth at his back. It was something he hated himself for.

You hushed him gently. And then, miraculously, you found words.

“We could leave.” You said quietly, turning your head so that your cheek sat parallel with his flesh, muttering the words against the fine silk of his button up shirt. “We could just… run away together. We don’t have to stay here, Draco. We could get to a fireplace and Floo out of here, or-”

“We can’t.” Draco replied, his voice just as quiet, throttled by tears. “You know that we can’t.”

You wanted to argue the point more. Obviously, he didn’t hate the idea. He just thought it was illogical. Likely, he thought it was too dangerous. But what was the alternative - possibly being killed anyway?

“If we leave, they’ll kill my parents because I couldn’t complete my mission.” Draco sniffled quietly. “At the very least, they’ll haul me in and have my head for being a traitor.”

Draco straightened his stance then, taking his arms off the cabinet. You thought that he might remove your arms from his waist, finally rejecting your touch. But instead, he began tracing fingers from his right hand along the forearm of his left sleeve, almost scratching at it like it was a terrible itch.

You had been there the day he had gotten the Mark. You had been brought into the room and forced to listen to his screams of pain before you even truly knew what was happening. When you had tried to comfort him about it, he had pushed you off so roughly that you had almost smacked your head into one of the walls, and you knew that he was taking that fear and pain out on you in that terribly misplaced way.

But that night, when he had been crying, sobbing and running the freshly scorched skin under cool water - he let you run him a bath with soothing soaps and the two of you discussed Shakespeare’s plays (which you were surprised that he had read) while you washed his hair for him.

“Now that I have the Mark, I can’t run anywhere.” Draco muttered quietly. “I can’t go anywhere I won’t be found.”

That part had never truly occurred to you before.

You knew that the Dark Lord used the Dark Mark as a way for his followers to show their loyalty, and as a way for him to summon them or even for them to summon him. And you guessed that Draco having it meant that he could be ‘summoned’ at any time as a part of the loyalty he had so unwillingly pledged.

Even if he betrayed the Dark Lord morally, mentally, emotionally, and tried to do so physically by running away, as long as his arm was attached, he would still be in service to that horrible man until he and his followers decided otherwise. Especially because you couldn’t imagine Draco wanting to part with his arm anytime soon.

“We’ll figure something out.” You told him, having little faith in those words yourself. But you knew it was a truth that you had to speak into existence.

Then you laid a gentle kiss on his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt, spreading more warmth through him. He clenched his fists at his sides, highly resisting the urge to reach for your hands, but silently hoping that you wouldn’t pull away.

Draco resented your sense of hope. But these days, it was the only thing keeping him afloat in the chaos seas that his life had become.

...

Remember, if you want to see the full fic when it comes out, make sure to follow my fanfiction blog @sundrop-writes and turn on notifications there!

Also, this fic is going to be a prequel to the fic I have already written - My Bleeding Heart, so if you liked this, definitely check that fic out.

#sundrop writes #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #harry potter fanfiction

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silverskye13 · 1 year

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That xisuma fic was absolutely incredible! If you have any more specific headcanons about android!X I would love to hear them! The idea is amazing and you wrote it so well!

Hai-yo! I'm glad you liked the writing snippet! ^_^

Oh boy, headcanons. How dare you make me organize my thoughts! Let's see.

Android!X is a server that one day decided to stop running in the background. Where I think most of the hermits were "born" on a home world that they can return to, it's more like Xisuma goes into his own mind. Similarly, if someone were to plot a course in the universe to Xisuma's home world, they'd just end up standing in front of him. [I feel like this also means between seasons X just kinda floats like a spaceman in hyper sleep through the void, go you funky little robot go!]

His body is made of circuitry and nanobots? In a way that isn't in any way functional to real life. But it's like he's a beehive almost. He has a living, moving body, but it's built for finesse and life-like expression. That kind of detail needs constant maintenance, so he has a fleet of little drone nanobots constantly doing repairs.

On that note, I think metallic/cybernetic/redstone components don't respawn like organic matter does on death. If it takes damage, it has to be repaired. Hermits like Doc are only mildly hampered by this, since any time his mechanics break, only parts of him are out of commission. For X though, anything that doesn't kill him outright has to be repaired. His nanobots help this, especially with small bits of damage accrued throughout the day, but anything that does significant damage requires him to power down to focus on repair and rebuild, where his nanos can run rampant while he rests. [He's never not productive though. Normally he uses this time to catch up on writing memory transcripts and other general internal housekeeping.]

Android!X is functionally smart but because everything he's ever done has had to be coded, a lot of things slip between gaps in his logic. He's a very smart computer, but he's still a computer. Common sense things slip between the cracks because common sense on regular people is mostly pattern recognition and intuition. Xisuma's only intuition is something he's hand-written in a table in a file somewhere. If he's never had to write/code it, and it's unique enough to not show up in a basic dictionary/archive search, it's a blind spot for him. He can query and in a millisecond give you data facts about the deep dark and still forget that the clicking noise his thinking pattern makes would attract a Warden. This also means he sometimes has weird hang ups in social situations sometimes. Yeah sure, Etho and BDubs are having the same friendly debate from last week, but this time BDubs is 30% louder [possible difference in altercation severity?] and Etho is on hazardous ground [standing on scaffolding, increasing height, personal endangerment? Posturing? Intimidation technique?], which means this situation is actually totally different and he's never coded protocols for it. He's gotten pretty good at reading other people's reactions to gauge his own, but when he's alone, he sometimes has an error he's affectionately labeled a "social short circuit". Good thing they're all hermits and understand when he sometimes just... walks away from things.

Even X doesn't know where his emotions come from. He knows he can augment them [He has a database for complex feelings like "happy and also sad" and "lonely but content", as well as for tonally dissonant scenarios like "feel worried when Cleo says 'its fine'."] and he has on a handful of occasions been able to shut them down when he was too overwhelmed or in a tense situation. But he has no idea where the emotions originally came from, and his ability to control their intensity [and turning them off] is so non-existent it's nearly random.

Xisuma has been trying to code a way to feel pain for a long time. Most of the hermits think he's crazy when he talks about it, but he thinks it would cut back on a lot of his time spent on damage assessment. It's much easier to tell if something is broken if you can feel it break. Currently his only indication something is wrong is if a circuit is actively frying or something stops working -- or if his nanos sniff it out.

Xisuma doesn't eat, but he tells his friends he eats redstone. It cuts back on some of the unnecessary worry about his well-being. It also means when they think he's distressed, they leave him little gifts of redstone, and he finds that endearing.

Xisuma likes to dress up his cybernetics. It started out with trying new paint jobs and slowly escalated to building new body casings with fancy cosmetics. He's very proud of his bone mage cosplay. The little dragon helmet has glowy-eyes and smoke comes out of its nose and everything. Tango, Joe and Cleo like to help him design things, and he lets Doc and Grian go ham trying to stress test [ie ruthlessly destroy] the parts to make sure they're durable before he commits to a design.

And that's about all I've got for now I think!

#answering asks #the barking writer #xisuma #android!xisuma #robot!xisuma #savviathan #long post #longpost #woe! my headcanons be upon ye!

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loveregrown · 6 months

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Does anyone realize how much they ruin me I only have this video comparing the stage and anime version from fucking february on me right now but I'm mainly speaking about the anime version. This is the same part of the genrev choreography in the 3DMV where they're meant to reach out towards each other but in their last performance Tsumugi reaches for him far too early and Eichi reaches for him far too late obviously. Of course Eichi would look shocked, watching him walk away, his expression so solemn. Up until eplink he still had nightmares about it, of Nagisa and Hiyori and Tsumugi running off ... this singular moment displays their dynamic and the end of their friendship that never truly got to be a friendship so perfectly, especially from Eichi's perspective but if you take into account the way it looks to Tsumugi rather than the viewer who gets the full picture it encapsulates both perfectly. The bluebird has left the cage he put himself in, and in Eichi's eyes, it is too late to just ... be his friend. Leo has stated he's never going forgive him directly because he wouldn't get it and it would hurt him more but Tsumugi so unabashedly continues wanting to earnestly be his friend.

It's so evident how much it affects him just by looking at Eichi's face

Tsumugi doesn't need a reason to befriend someone & Eichi does .. 🥹

Hiyonagi also suffered but at least they had each other (┬┬﹏┬┬) And yet, in the Dawning Angels mv, eimugi finally manage to reach out to each other again ... and it is so significant considering what happened the last time they stepped foot on a stage to sing together.

Eichi, in the current era is like a child that doesn't care for his toy till it is taken away from him and given to another. Or perhaps, like a lover who doesn't acknowledge what they have till it is far too late. So much so he gave Natsume his blessings in a sense, which is surprisingly evil combined with the fact Tsumugi has referred to his relationship with Natsume as a contract, and that he would actively try to prevent him from falling apart like Eichi did.

It wasn't in their fate to go to karaoke together even if they could've so easily. He's is still under the impression that it is late to even go to karaoke with him, bringing it up as though that's something that should injure Tsumugi and like it's something that's lingered in his mind from the moment he pondered on it near the end of element, but Tsumugi has already moved on. Whether he forgot about it because it no longer affects him even if it did once,feeling as though he was thrown away, or him forgetting is a coping mechanism to erase aspects of the war from his mind in spite of the fact he's been promising not to repeat it, only God knows ...

Forever thinking of "even as they find themselves hurt in the process..."

And yet, all four of them still have so much fun playing together, sharing the same dynamic they did in the past... ohh (┬┬﹏┬┬) I know this was mostly eimugi ... but I love exfine so much. I love sad endings and things that cannot be repaired, I am not the kind to have a desire to fix everything or not see beauty in tragedy, but I also just want them to spend time together and be happy even if that thought might always itch in the back of their mind, Tsumugi being the mediator between them even now always gets me. Nagisa and Hiyori clearly spend such wonderful time with Tsumugi together one of my favorite idol stories is one where he goes to a cafe with Hiyori and even gets genuinely upset over cospro taking advantage of newdi and it's so rare ... and Hiyori's fs2, it was so cute too. Tsumugi and Nagisa were together simultaneously as gacha and feature scout not so long ago, and while Eichi did go on that trip with Rei and Tsumugi recently ... it would be so nice if Eichi could come to the function. If he could give himself the time to have fun with the rest of them like this more, free of awkwardness and self restraint ＞﹏＜ especially since they're all so young and so busy. The rarity of these moments makes them endearing and special but bittersweet all the same.

#❀#This is all surface level stuff I'm just so crazy and thinking about #I miss when the eleani and altered came out so much.#eichi tenshouin and tsumugi aoba hurting me forever and ever with hakmers #espost

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verybadatwriting · 1 year

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White Fang

ReaderxPeterParker, Teen!ReaderxAvengers

Background: Pre-civil war. Pretend that Spidey-Boy joins the team on Christmas break before the Sokovia Accords are even thought of. I think I kept it gn, but please tell me if I mess it up anywhere.

Warnings: Reader starts the story off not getting enough food, and is thus dangerously underweight. Unhealthy eating habits.

(Slight rant: I feel that as a group we don’t recognize the dangers of being underweight as much as we should. Part of what made me write the reader this way was my sister’s ongoing struggle with getting to a healthy weight. I modeled many of the reader’s eating habits after hers.)

Gn!reader

Word count: 3,753

A few rumpled up newspapers and some wrappers were the only contents of the trashcan. Not to worry, you still had the dumpsters behind the restaurants to raid. Besides, it never hurt to check. Once you had found three rotisserie chickens, still in the packaging! You couldn’t help but wonder what the story behind them was.

The cold night air sent a chill down your spine, and you decided it was best to switch forms. A shiver descended your spine once more, this time it was warm and familiar. Your hair turned white, and covered your whole body as it grew and contorted to the shape of a wolf. Your wolf form grew until you could walk above street signs with no difficulty.

Yours wasn’t a majestic form, with your scraggly, matted fur, and bones peeking from beneath thin layers of muscle, but it functioned, and it was significantly warmer than a being human. On a cold New York night like this, it was needed.

Long legs leapt through the streets, weaving through the shadows. You stuck to the quieter streets, and eventually found your way into the right alleys. First stop was behind Delmar’s Deli-Grocery.

You transformed back into a human, and began rummaging. You tossed any edible-looking stuff out of the dumpsters onto the cold ground. It was covered in a thin layer of snow by the time you had finished. The dilemma you faced was whether to eat small bits as you went from source to source, or save it all to eat at the end of the night.

Measuring how late it was, you decided to munch on what you’d gotten from Delmar’s before crossing Central Park to get back home. On the way back you’d probably pick up a few extra bites. Internally accepting this plan, you transformed into the wolf form, gobbled down the pile, and sprinted towards your home.

A salty taste stayed in your mouth as you bent around a corner and into the park. You smelled something in one of the trashcans, and were split on whether it was worth transforming again. At that moment, you heard a noise behind you. Turning quickly, you saw a strange teen sitting on a lamppost.

He wore a bright red hoodie, a red mask with goggles, a blue shirt and pants, red shoes with knee-high socks, and mechanical looking gloves. On his hoodie, there was the outline of a bug. A spider maybe?

You weren’t nervous when people saw you. It was mostly crack-heads out this late round where you were. Nobody would believe them if they said a huge wolf was stalking the city. Initially, you assumed this was just a very athletic crack-head. When he launched some sort of rope from his wrists and swung to the ground, you realized you may have misjudged him.

“Woah…” He whispered in amazement, “What the heck are you?” He reached a hand towards you, but you growled and shrunk back slightly.

“Oop! Sorry about that.” Without taking his eyes off you, he fished around in his pocket until he found a stick of beef jerky.

"Here," he said, tossing it towards you. Hesitantly, you picked it up and ate it.

“How on earth did a wolf get so huge? You look pretty skinny too… Are you eating alright?” He continued speaking.

A moment later, you shifted to a more relaxed position. Neither of you was going to hurt the other, and you both knew that. For a few minutes the two of you sat there. The boy quietly rambled on about how his life was.

Hours later, you stood to leave.

“Hey, wait. Um.. Could we meet up again tomorrow night?” After considering for a moment, you nodded as he hastily added, “I’m Spider-Man by the way. Yeah.” You nodded once more, and ran into the night.

The next morning you quietly got ready for school, so as to not wake Kara. For the past six months, you’d been living with a couple named Lindsey and Walter Miller. They were good foster parents, and thankfully they tried. It wasn’t their fault that you needed more calories than most humans could physically consume in a day.

“Hey there Y/n.” Lindsey said, “Did Kara wake up?”

You shook your head.

“Very good.” She said, passing you two muffins. “We were sent an extra. I made the executive decision you would get it. The last thing we need is a fight over a muffin, am I right?”

You nodded.

“You ready for school?” Lindsey asked, “Need anything else?”

I’m missing my Physics book. You signed.

“Unless it’s on the miscellaneous shelf, I can’t help you with that.” Lindsey turned and went back to packing the little kid’s lunches.

Most of the kids in the Miller House weren’t teens yet. Kara was seven, Nathaniel was eight, Keyon was five, and Finn was three. You and Kara shared a room, which was difficult when you had to stay up late studying (or sneak out for some late-night food-gathering), and especially since you woke up for school at different times.

Waving goodbye to your foster parents, you walked out the door. In the minute it took you to go from the kitchen to the front porch, you had already finished the muffins. They weren’t small muffins either. Despite that, you were still hungry.

At school you had a hard time focusing because of it. You often zoned out, and missed vital parts of lessons. Sometimes when you stood up dots would descend from the sides of your vision, and you’d have to sit back down again. Coughing usually helped, along with focusing on a specific muscle and flexing. From your limited research, this could be from low blood sugar or low iron.

Either one could be solved if you didn’t have to eat for a gigantic carnivore. Even with all the negative side effects, your wolf form was worth it. Especially if it meant you’d get to know that athletic crack-head more.

Your whole school was decorated for the holidays. Well, as decorated as they could afford, which meant a few cardstock snowflakes the 5th graders made hanging from the ceiling, and posters of snowmen scattered about the walls.

Bungling the first half of the day, you made it to lunch. Since you were eligible for free lunch, you got that. You also brought home lunch. Because you were already so ravenously hungry, you couldn’t help but gulp down the food. You knew there was a choking hazard. You knew it wasn’t a good way to eat. You also knew that if food was delayed much longer, it wouldn’t be pretty.

All too quickly, lunch was over and your food was eaten. Physics was next, and you still hadn’t found your book. That was alright. Probably. (It wasn’t.)

After the disappointing Physics period, and another boring class, you got to English. From all the way down the hall you could smell the aroma of hot chocolate and other sweets.

Your English teacher made it a habit to bring in hot cocoa at least once a week in December. “To be festive!” You found it less difficult to focus, especially on the days like today where she brought snacks. The boost in blood sugar probably had something to do with that.

With that class over, you had officially finished another week of school. You found it boring, partially because it was, partially because it was difficult to form friendships when you didn’t speak their language. Especially difficult when you don’t speak at all.

You could physically talk, but the mental aspect of it wouldn’t cooperate. You could speak to Kara when you were both alone. Somehow the anxiety dissipated.

Skidding on the icy ground, you arrived at Central Park four minutes before midnight. You went to the exact lamppost you had first seen him on and waited. Six minutes later, a red-clad figure swung into view.

“Cool, you showed up.” He said, “Not that I expected you to flake or anything! Uh… How was your day?” A moment of silence passed before he realized.

“Oh, shoot, can you talk?”

You shook your head.

“Okay… I’ll have to stick to ‘yes or no’ questions then. Also, I brought more food.” He put a round container of deli meats on the ground between the two of you. “I don’t know what kind you like so I just got an assorted jumble.” He opened the container and slid it closer. It was fairly sizable, at least on the human scale. Nevertheless, you were grateful and ate it.

Spider-Man swung himself up onto the lamppost, and lowered himself down upside down while squatting. The look you gave him was so confused that he had to explain.

“These shoes aren’t really made for the snow. And I don’t want to get frostbite. I love New York, even if it does try to kill me a lot. What about you?”

You nodded.

“Do you like the Christmas decorations here?”

You nodded again. Your conversation continued for a while. He talked about everything and nothing simultaneously. He seemed very interested in your life, especially how you managed to live this long without arousing suspicions from Animal Control.

“How do you hide yourself during the day? Do you turn human?

You nodded.

“Oh my gosh!” He said, “So it’s possible I’ve met you before without even knowing?”

You shook your head and bopped your nose. After hesitating, Spider-Man took a guess.

“You… would have… smelled me?”

Nod.

“That’s…” You braced yourself, ready for the disgust you were sure was coming.

“So…

“Cool! Can you remember every person you’ve smelled? How does your human nose process those scents? Is the nose fully wolf and fully human at the same time?” The little guy was fully geeking out when your stomach grumbled.

“Oh… Is that why you come out here? To find food?”

Yet again, you nodded. The two of you set off on your trek around the city, to all the closed restaurants and grocery stores you could think of. Spider-Man hopped inside the dumpsters and chucked food out since you couldn’t fit inside as a wolf. And you definitely weren’t going to transform back into a human around someone.

You met up nightly for weeks after that. With this team effort it was much easier to keep yourself fed, and your grades reflected that. Rumors eventually started to abound that either the rat population was out of hand, or there was a large creature stalking the trashcans of New York.

Sometimes on your walks you’d come across someone in distress. You allowed Spider-Man to take the fame, and opted to stay in the shadows. Occasionally, he’d need assistance, and you’d step in. These happened just often enough for there to be a few credible sources about you.

It was three days before Christmas when Spider-Man said the following.

“My Aunt May has plans for Christmas Eve and Christmas. Tomorrow’s the last time I’ll see you for a few days.”

You sat up abruptly after hearing this. Logically it wasn’t that long, and there was always a lot of food during the holidays, so you might not need to go foraging, but you’d still miss him. Over the weeks you’d created a strong bond, despite only knowing each other via your superpowered sides. He’d also given you your name: White Fang.

Maybe that’s what made your friendship work. Another person who could understand, and who you wouldn’t have to worry about spilling the beans.

The next night you got there ten minutes early to add a buffer between your arrival and that of Spider-Man. You transformed back into a human and set down a tupperware container of homemade spider-shaped cookies. On top you placed an even smaller box with the label: ‘To Spider-Man, From White Fang.’

After the boxes were situated, you shifted back to wolf form to wait. Moments later, your favorite arachnid came out of the darkness and landed on his signature lamppost.

“Hey Fang!” He said, “I dunno if you celebrate, but I brought you a Christmas present!” He hopped down, placed a cellophane wrapped hunk of meat on the ground, and unwrapped it. Then he noticed the boxes in the snow.

“Are these for me? And can I open them?”

You nodded twice. He went over to inspect them. He picked up the box, and opened it. Inside there was a small spider-shaped trinket. It was metallic and opened to reveal a small compartment.

“Woah…” He whispered to himself then turned to you, “This is so cool! I’m assuming the cookies are for us to share?” He glanced at you as you nodded. “The meat is for you, of course, and I also got you a necklace.” He opened a box he had in his pocket, and held the contents up so you could see.

He held a tiny silver wolf on a thin chain. You did a little jump of joy, showing how much you appreciated it. The two of you spent the rest of the night hanging out as usual. Spider-Man left around 3, and once he was gone you transformed back into a human to scoop up the cookie container and put on his gift to you.

When the two of you met up next. Spider-Man had a new suit, and wouldn’t stop talking about the Avengers.

“Mr. Stark brought me to the tower, and I got to meet Captain America and the rest of the team! I’m also part of them now. I think. I could be wrong, gotta check. Their last mission was to fight the huge robots – You know, the ones that lifted up that one city? – and they told me all about it!”

“How could you be so reckless?” Lindsey said. “This could get my fostering license taken away!”

“Lin, calm down.” Mr. Miller said, “Let Y/n explain what they were doing.” He handed you a pen and pencil. You froze and couldn’t think of an excuse. How do you explain that you snuck out at night because you had a superpower that required massive amounts of food? You can’t explain that without sounding crazy.

“At least tell me it wasn’t drugs.” Lindsey said, “If it’s boys – or girls – I can deal with that. But drugs would be the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“Y/n?” Mr. Miller said, “Is it drugs?”

You looked both of them in the eyes and shook your head. The two foster parents breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re still in big trouble kid.” Mr. Miller reminded you, “We’ll be checking in on you throughout the night, okay?” You nodded sadly, accepting that your nights of food and friends would be long gone. You’d never get to see the Spider-Man again.

The first day back from break, all throughout your commute you kept seeing the same man out of the corner of your eye. You just shook off the feeling. The next two days, you saw him, but never enough to get a description past ‘has an eyepatch’ (which you couldn’t really do much of anything with). Finally, on the third day back, you only saw him on the morning commute.

On your way home you still kept a look out, glancing behind yourself. You didn’t see him. As you reached the Miller House, you breathed a sigh of relief. Jangling the keys in the door, you opened it. Your horror was immeasurable when you saw the man sitting in your living room, conversing with Mr. and Mrs. Miller.

“Oh hi Y/n!” Lindsey said. “Mr. Fury was just telling us something very strange. I was wondering if you’d like to weigh in on it.”

“Hello Mx. Y/l/n.” Mr. Fury stood and extended a hand. “I’d like to talk to you about the Avengers.”

You took his hand.

“Y/n,” Mr. Miller said, “If what Nick here was telling us is true, I’m sorry for punishing you for sneaking out.”

With a shaking hand, you pulled a piece of paper out of your pocket and wrote.

What, exactly, did he tell you?

“I know about your ability.” Fury said, “And now they do too.”

“He was wondering if you would be willing to be adopted by the Avengers.” Mr. Miller said, “If you don’t want to, nobody will force you. Whichever decision you make, we will stand by you.”

“Both of us will.” Lindsey added.

“At Avengers Tower you’ll get a proper diet for a wolf the size of yours." Fury said, "And all your material needs will be met.”

Are there any others my age? You signed.

“Y/n wants to know if there will be other people their age.” Lindsey said.

“Yes, there’s one I believe.” Fury said, “But he doesn’t live there. You’ll still go to school, you’ll just live with the Avengers and occasionally go on missions.”

I promise I’ll think about it. You signed, first tell me why you were following me.

“Y/n will think about it, and wants to know why– What what?” Mr. Miller stopped, “Repeat that Y/n?”

Why was he following me?

“Mr. Fury, they want to know why you were following them.” He continued, “And frankly, I do too.”

“We were keeping surveillance on them.” Fury replied simply, “We were unsure if they were a threat to those around them.”

“Okay… I suppose that explains it.” Lindsey said, “In the future, keep in mind that trailing underage people isn’t the best course of action.”

“If we had another option, we would have taken it.” He stood up and walked towards the door.

“Y/n” He turned, handing you a paper, “These numbers will get you in contact with me, Maria Hill – a trusted advisor – and Tony Stark. When you move into the Tower, he will be the person introducing you. I hope to see you soon.”

With that he turned and walked out the door. The next few days you and the Millers discussed the best course of action. Eventually they came to the conclusion that you should be adopted by the Avengers.

While you were excited, you were a little sad. Leaving homes was never easy, no matter how temporary the stay was. The Millers were a nice family, much better than some of your previous families, and you were very close with Kara.

Three days later the papers were signed. Normally it takes much longer to even receive the documents, but when a billionaire wants something, it gets fast tracked. A day after the signing, you packed your bags, said your tearful goodbyes, and climbed into the limousine sent for you. To your surprise, Tony Stark was in the passenger seat.

“Hey kid.”

You waved in reply.

“How are you?”

You nodded.

“Not much of a talker, eh?”

I’ve got selective mutism. You signed.

“I have no clue what you just said.” Stark said. “I’ll have to get an interpreter… FRIDAY? Could-” You cut him off by handing him a paper.

I have selective mutism. That’s what I signed.

“Ok, I’ll be sure to tell the team when I introduce you.”

Once you got to the Tower, an assistant came outside to get your bags. He had a cart ready and everything. You had a duffel bag, and a backpack, both of which you preferred to keep on your person.

Stark led you up to the living room, where the rest of the team had been instructed to gather.

“Hello everyone,” He said, “This is Y/n, our newest recruit. They’re deaf, so be patient.”

I’m not deaf, numbskull. You signed. To your surprise, a man in the corner let out a small laugh.

“They’re not deaf, Stark.” He said.

“What makes you think that, Barton?” Stark asked. “They told me themselves.”

“They just signed that they’re not deaf. And they called you a numbskull.”

“... Moving on… Y/n that’s Steve, Sam, Natasha Romanoff, Peter Parker, Clint Barton, Rhodes, Vision, and the Maximoff twins.” You nodded.

Only Natasha and I know ASL. Clint signed. If you wanna talk behind people’s backs, it’s the best way around here.

I’ll keep that in mind. You replied.

“Peter’s around your age.” Stark continued, “And besides for him the Twins are our newest recruits. If it’s okay with you, I’ll open the floor to questions.” You nodded.

“What are your powers?” Steve asked.

“They turn into a giant wolf.” Stark replied for you. You noticed that Peter’s eyes widened slightly. Taking a small sniff, you tested the air to see if there was anyone you knew. Just one.

After what felt like hours, the questions were over, your room was found, and you were peacefully on your phone in the living room. Peter walked in and sat across from you.

“Hi!” He said. You waved and put down your phone.

“So… This is going to sound really weird, but… do you – were you the same wolf – what I’m trying to ask is.. Did you hang out in the park with Spider-Man?” Recognition dawning, you nodded and pulled up the necklace Spider-Man gave you. At the exact same moment, Peter took the trinket you’d given to Spider-Man out of his backpack.

“Holy shit.” He said.

“Holy shit indeed.” You replied with a voice that sounded like it hadn’t been used in a very long time.

“What the!” He jumped off the couch. “You can talk?!”

“I always could, physically.”

"Why do you sign to the team?"

“The mental components just don’t add up for some situations.” You paused, “I think it also has something to do with how I meet people. Meeting first in wolf form seems to allow me to speak with them… These are all still guesses, even I have no clue why it doesn’t click for some people.”

“This is so cool.” Peter marveled under his breath. “Can I ask something?”

“Shoot.”

“Okay. These past few days, you… didn’t meet up with me…” His voice was laced with pure sadness and confusion, a far cry from what it was a second ago.

“I’m so sorry Spidey!” You said, “My foster-parents found out I was sneaking out, and I didn’t want to tell them about the whole ‘superpowered wolf’ thing. They enforced that I was in bed from 11pm to 6am. I would have kept meeting up with you if I could have. I’m sorry.”

“Oh thank goodness.” Peter said, “I thought that you didn’t like me anymore.”

“I don’t think I could ever not like you, Spidey.”

#marvel #y/n x peter parker #avengers x teen!reader #marvel x reader #avengers x y/n #avengers fan fic??#selective mutism #i hope i did a god job representing selective mutism #prolly not tho #I'm sorry this wasn't out over the weekend.#i was busy binging wednesday #it was pretty good.#gn!reader

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yvtro · 1 year

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Two questions that I'm genuinely interested in your answer for (bc I love your metas ngl) but I totally get it if you don't answer.

What's your biggest unpopular opinion on Jason, and your least favorite popular/fandom opinion on him?

disclaimer: i’m moving blogs. still here to go through my askbox, but you will find me at @boyfridged most of the time.

i'm very flattered, thank you!! and sorry this took me so long to answer. and it did take me so long 1. because it’s really hard to tell what is actually an unpopular opinion (i did thankfully find myself in a circle of mutuals who mostly share the same intuitions when it comes to his character) and 2. because I mentally put a label on it “asks to get me assassinated.” and I guess the take that i have requires quite careful wording.

so, my unpopular take is that from in-universe point of view, jason shouldn’t be a vigilante, and it would be best for the storytelling around him to focus on this fact. and i’m not saying that in a mean, moralistic nor diminishing way. i just think that jay’s storyline is a story of everything that can go wrong with a sidekick, and of how vigilantism can traumatise people into oblivion, and completely annihilate their ability to function normally. part of it is a result of the fact that imo jason isn’t naturally suited for vigilantism (that is not to talk about his skills nor efficiency in it, i will get back to it shortly), and part of it is a result of the circumstances in which he was introduced into it, and of course the subsequent trauma.

you could say “uhm every superhero story is like that, he’s not special,” but typically, when you think about characters such as bruce wayne or dick grayson etc., the event that comes to mind when you think about their biggest trauma is something that… pushed them into vigilantism? and vigilantism supposedly helped them in some ways? (it can be argued against, but that’s an underlying assumption) (+even without a tragic backstory, characters usually have much more agency in their decision to become vigilantes). and in case of jay, his biggest trauma isn’t anything that came before robin, and his life was awfully fucking sad, so i think that it says something. his biggest trauma is associated with what he went through already as robin and then retraumatising events that followed his resurrection.

it’s really puzzling to me that this distinction is never deliberately written about nor truly brought up in comics…? i think the closest we came to this was, ironically, starlin’s run (when alfred straight up suggests that maybe robin just isn’t good for jason) and countdown (where jay intends to leave the superhero community altogether).

okay, so you can say: vigilantism is kinda shitty for you. breaking news, we’ve known this already.

except there's something, in my opinion, that makes jason’s case special and more nuanced. it seems, at first glance, that with all the love and compassion jason has, he should be great material for a vigilante still. but he clearly isn’t. why is that?

the crushing proportion of other characters have moral systems, coping mechanisms, and understanding of vigilantism that make this life at least possible for them. on the other hand, jason’s personality, his lived experience, and his moral stance makes vigilantism extremely unsustainable. i mentioned it before in my post about eoc, but most (especially 1st gen, but not only, i’d argue that most former teenage superheroes also came to this point as well) vigilantes, even if associated with love and compassion as the core of their actions, have understanding of vigilantism and moral codes that jason doesn’t possess. (for a long while i was on a “jason has a moral code but it’s casually bastardised by most writers” team but since then i have thought about it a lot and my current take is that he was good at following orders as robin, and has some provisional rules as the red hood, but they’re nowhere near an actual code. as i said in the linked post, i think morality is more of an on-going emotional practice for him). and it all makes sense! let's circle back to bruce for a moment. of course, the reason for which he doesn’t kill is grounded within his own beliefs, but he is also very painfully aware of the thin line that vigilantes walk on when it comes to the law and being trusted by the public. i'd argue he is very conscious of the fact that being a vigilante comes with responsibility of cultivating a certain ethos. he had a lot of time to think about it! in many ways, he invented it. and it’s practical. it's what makes this life possible.

jason doesn’t have it. jason’s idea of vigilantism isn’t carefully designed nor sophisticated, jason’s idea of vigilantism is that he is in the field and he has power to do things, so he has to do them. he has to trust his moral intuitions. and in many ways, he’s not wrong – it's not a flawed view to hold, especially not in the ordinary life. but that also means that there are no lines that he won’t cross if he thinks he can help or fix the situation. but in the world that batman introduces us to (a world in which, to quote le guin on an unrelated matter, there’s no ends, but only means), it’s self-destructive. to compare him again to bruce, bruce is self-sacrificial, but his conceptual understanding of vigilantism and his moral code protect him in some ways. jason’s moral judgements and actions are unrestrained and radical (not to say that they’re reckless or inefficient; he’s still a great strategist and can be even overly careful if it’s required). and that is set in a world where evil never stops. we already know that the joker will always come back, for example. what does it mean for jason? he will try to match the energy, of course, and he’s not stopping either. bruce is similar in that aspect, yet he has a whole insurance set that helps him deal with extreme situations. there's an offset. and jason doesn’t have any. he won’t ever hit the breaks. i think you know where i’m going with this metaphor.

so i guess my take is that… bruce’s outlook on vigilantism is, against the popular opinion, very rational. but jason just brings his heart into it and nothing else. and that’s just catastrophic.

this is really me just pushing the “love is his fatal flaw” agenda again tbh, but with additional emphasis on why the same trait isn’t that tragic for other characters who share it. also this is why it’s so crucial to me that he should have a civilian arc…

and as to my least favourite fandom opinion on him, i can't think of anything very specific right now, but my general pet peeve is anything that divorces his characterisation from his 80s personality. i think you can tell that i really dislike painting him as resentful towards dick, and all takes that indicate that he's always been cynical and distrustful toward the world. i think a lot of people want his storyline to be one of someone who has, from day one, been full of rightful anger, but the thing is that it has not been his story to begin with. he had to be pushed really far for this to happen. and this is what makes him so special compared with most anti-heroes – that his story starts from a genuine place of innocent and naive hope and love despite all he suffered.

#dc #this is a mess but it's been in my drafts for a while. and i don't think i have energy to say anything else #btw i think that my *actual* unpopular take is on batman!jason but i already talked about it lots

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croctus · 4 days

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how would each verse of zero think of each other?

HOOTS N HOLLERS oh man i love questions like this, sorry i took a while to drum up a reply.

something kind of important to understand about him is based on the verse, hes pretty significantly influenced by whatever he ended up needing to do to survive- which always ends up being a key aspect of his life- and why hes never very normal lol.

mainverse zero used humor and compartmentalizing The Horrors as a coping mechanism. he raised himself almost entirely alone from adolescence on, picking through the scraps of the old world slowly teaching himself engineering tricks to survive, and made himself a persona of someone charismatic and unpredictable and magnetic, because he was lonely and because it was something to do. eventually he found kinship with others that society cast aside, and made himself a little found family where he could lean into this persona even harder. overall hes happy with his life, and would proudly state he’s overcome some pretty rocky things in his life to get where he is. he’s a kind person despite being kind of a big showboat blowhard who talks a lot of talk about being evil and dangerous, but this isn’t really something that bothers him- rather, he insists his henchmen abide by his code of ethics and act in the purpose of putting on a big loud show and making more paperwork for the city officials/police.

he would think red is a freak and find the idea that he could be pushed to that kind of behavior deeply disturbing. he wouldn't want to think too much into how much he could 'secretly' be like him. red would anger him to a degree, because he thinks he's strong enough to 'be himself' under that sort of environment, but he isn't 100% sure and that sucks for him.

he would think nix is also a freak LOL, but some sort of cruel mockery of himself in the form of a dorky superhero under the thumb of THE MAN. he'd very much pull a 'aren't you tired of being nice? don't you just want to go ape shitt?'

red likewise has been on survival mode since around his teenage years- he was a well-meaning and sweet kid despite being a little rowdy and getting into trouble here and there, but his acting out was mostly due to his parents working very busy hours and not having a lot of time for him. he never places the blame on them, though, and slowly started to consider himself kind of a burden on them when he continues to get into trouble and lacks the resources to know how to change. in his teen years he gets a part-time job to save up, and eventually runs away from home and tries to make it on his own for about a year before, oops, zombie apocalypse. his behavior doesn’t change all at once from here, but he slowly finds he needs to be more and more cruel to the world around him to avoid backstabbing or resource strain, and eventually ends up living in an echo chamber of a mall full of yes-men that further enforce an us-versus-them mindset where he finds sympathy less and less for outsiders and more and more for exclusively those who he’s already looking out for and has some semblance of trust for. beyond this, his humor-as-coping still develops, but twists in a pretty cruel direction of pushing his own boundaries further and further to avoid having to really reflect on himself, in a semi-constant dissociative improv.

he'd think zero is a cringy nerd playing comic book pretend and that it's annoying he has so much opportunity and resources in a still-functional city but he's still working out of a warehouse with a bunch of untrained punks scheming up how to glitter bomb some gala or other.

he'd see nix as weak, and a little sad, and not understand why he doesn't crack under the pressure of being a manufactured superhero image or scream something ridiculous on tv just to see what happens. it would be pretty frustrating to him! he'd prob say nix is a tool.

nix is probably the most even-tempered out of any verse because he’s had an incredibly structured existence his whole life, and no room to develop a lot of the purposely annoying habits and humor youd see in ur standard zero- but there are ghosts of it. hes still fairly cheerful and affable and good-humored, but less likely to run his mouth without any clue where he’s going with something, and far less impulsive. he probably runs with his empathy MORE than his counterparts however, and deeply feels a connection with people society has wronged, butt he more struggles with how to make meaningful changes in peoples lives to ‘fix’ their situations, since he is purposely kept from fully understanding the depth of the corrupted systems he lives within. thus he can come across as ignorant and sort of naïve, which in combination with his personality can come across as annoying to some- especially the city’s villain population lol. since unlike his counterparts he has not built a little community for himself, hes still a little lonely though, and understands social cues a little less.

he'd see zero as a dark reflection of himself under a 'bad timeline', but the more he thinks about it, the less zero is exclusively constructed of flawed behavior and misery- and this would start to kind of make him feel a little sick and anxious.

red would completely disgust him, though, and he'd really struggle to believe this is even a version of himself at all. he'd not really like to think about it at all- nor really enjoy that both alternate versions of him consider themselves- or are considered by others, to be 'evil'.

#long post #SORRY THIS IS LONG LOL

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