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gyroshrike · 2 years

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for send me a character and i'll tell you meme: hmmmmmmmmm -eyes recent reblogs of a certain bronze troll-....terezi! -runs away trollishly laughing-

For the “Send me a character and I’ll tell you…” ask game

Tavros

JOKES ON YOU. SOMEONE ALREADY SENT TEREZI, SO I GUESS YOU’RE STUCK WITH THE BRONZE TROLL. WE DOIN’ TAV, BABEYYYY

My NOTP for them - Flushed Tavrisk! Flushed Tavrisk! FLUSHED TAVRISK! I have honestly never had an stronger notp than this one right here (not including ships that squick me out of course). You know it’s this singular ship that’s keeping me from reading The Serendipity Gospels? I want to read it SO BAD! BUT I CANNOT GET MYSELF TO DO IT. I CANNOT.

My BROTP for them - This might go Nepeta and Tavros. I LOVE those two. They didn’t talk much, but Nepeta was very nice to Tavros and I don’t think that was an off shoot thing. (A pattern I have noticed on how I judge characters a lot is How Nice They Were to Tavros.)

I’m always a huge sucker for characters who love animals and THEY BOTH LOVE ANIMALS. They’re two big sweetie hearts that love animals and playing games and silly artsy-fartsy stuff. Tavros would probably think the fact that Nepeta draws is super cool. They would never make each other feel embarrassed or criticized for any of their interests or idiosyncrasies.

Tavros roleplays with her, even if he’s awkward at it, without any comments or other jabs about it. He expresses genuine disappointment when she can’t be on the red team with him, but he’s also kind and understanding about it.

My OTP for them - Looks up from where I'm buried under a pile of pbj sandwiches. Don't mess with me, flushed Gamzee♥️Tavros is my Homestuck otp of otps.

My second choice pairing for them - Hmm, this might be pitch Equius♠️Tavros, but I'm going to save that one for another answer. So, this one will probably go to DaveTav. I enjoy both pitch and pale, but I think I like pale Dave♦️Tavros better. The idea of Tavros and Dave each thinking the other is the Coolest person, while simultaneously trying to play off that they're cool, is just an absolute favorite of mine.

Imagine if Dave secretly loves and admires that Tavros is wholeheartedly passionate about things, even 'nerdy' or 'cringey' things by Dave’s definition. He is sometimes a little envious that Tavros can just just... not care about irony or pretending something that is cool is uncool because it being uncool makes it cool yadda yadda. He feels like Tavros is so genuine (it’s kind of the same reason why he’s drawn to John).

Then Tavros canonly went on about just how ridiculously cool he thinks Dave is. And I feel like we never get to see Tavros get that hyped up about another person? Aradia said he’d wanted to meet Dave so bad. It’s just insanely cute how much Tavros values Dave, even though all he silly trolling they’ve done to each other, Tavros adores hanging out with Dave? And they really enjoy rapping to together? It’s cute as fuck, man.

Then the two of them both realizing the other has low self-esteem? But I feel like their doubts they have in themselves are different enough that they won’t feed into each other. Dave would have the bravado Tavros needs to shrug off hurtful comments and Tavros is soft and genuine in an unironic way that he would give the kind of reassurance that Dave really thrive under.

Moirails really help each other grow and it’s interesting watching how Tavros wants to rise up and meet Dave’s challenge. He doesn’t seem hurt or scared by the words or teasing Dave does. Flustered and nervous in the moment for sure! But it Tavros goes out of his way to prepare for his conversations with Dave. He’s dedicated to figuring out how to best interact with him (even if most of his motivations are to troll.) But Tavros reaches out to both Rose and Aradia to try and facilitate interactions with Dave.

Dave makes Tavros want to show off his ability as a peer, not as a hero or savior like he wanted to do for Jade.

All this is kind of why I think they’d be great in most quadrants, flushed, pitch, or pale.

My fluffy pairing for them - Not exactly a pairing, but I love how Kanaya seemed to be someone who really stood up for and looked out for Tavros, even so much to harass Vriska, her crush, into being nice to him. Kanaya was the one who told Tavros to name his self-confidence and to not hurt "his" feelings. ;0; I'm really into humanstuck AU's where the Maryam family is really close to the Nitram family. Pesterquest also solidified this with the role Kanaya played in Tavros' route. In my AU, Kanaya's family reached out and helped Tavros' family financially after Tavros' accident.

My angsty pairing for them - Angsty pairing? Oh, hmmmm... I suppose post canon things (no epilogues or hs2) with Gamzee and Gctavrosprite tend to make me very sad. :( Definitely a very angsty iteration of the ship. It has to be done very particularly for me to like it. I also suppose anything that includes Gamzee meeting either dead Tavros or any other timeline Tavros in bubble fucks me uuuuup. Can you imagine Gamzee meeting a Tavros from a timeline where he and Tavros had been matesprits?

Oh! There's also that fan theory that the horrorterrors are eons old, long mutated Gamzee's, and I make myself sad over the idea of a horrorterror meeting Tavros who doesn't really have any memories of being a troll left, but knows instinctively upon seeing Tavros that Tavros was something important. And it's just this massive monster entity that Tavros can hear the dark whispers of like "whoareyouwhowareyouwhoareyou don'tremembercan'tremember buthappyhappytoseeyouseeyouseeyouseeyou"

Now for the last two questions, I'm going to rearrange them because my weirdest ship for them kind of feeds into my favorite polyship for them.

My weirdest pairing for them - I suppose EquiTav isn't THAT weird of a ship, but it felt weird to me for a long while because I just couldn't wrap my head around the possibly of it. But recently, I've really sat down and thought about it. It started with the idea of pitch Gamzee♠️Equius. And I love that ship, but sometimes I get all sad over thinking about Gamzee hating, being annoyed with, or being mean back to Equius.

Then I realized... actually, I could see Tavros getting really annoyed with Equius and the things he does and says. Equius has a bigoted view of the hemospectrum, so check, that's going to be obnoxious. And Tavros does in most cases try to stand up for himself when he's being pushed around (Vriska just doesn't listen and is better at shutting him down.) But I think Equius would be a bit quicker to back down when challenged in a way that would put him and Tavros on a bit more equal footing. (We already know that Equius likes being order around by lowbloods because of the social inappropriateness of it. Also, Equius is stubborn, but he's not... a bully. He's also not violent or dangerous to other trolls that we see.

And something about pitch rivalry is the push to make the other reach their potential. Equius is pretty caught up in bloodcolor, but he also has a few moments where it implies that it's much more of a taught belief than one he genuinely wants to keep feeling. He tells Vriska "EQUIUS: D --> I would very much like to honor my position on the hemospectrum and mistreat those beneath me, and yet..." And we all know he would DIE for Nepeta. So that can be part of his growth with Tavros! Having multiple low quadrants challenges his stances and beliefs. Tavros is also really nice. I feel like having a rivalry with someone so nice (as well as a moiraillegience) could challenge him to perhaps see how to be nicer.

And Tavros would have someone frustrating and stubborn to work on his self-confidence with who doesn't actually put his emotional or physical well-being at risk when he stands up to them. (Well, not intentionally, Equius is very STRONG after all.)

Tavros and Equius have this very interesting specific angle for me of either becoming unintentionally closer because Equius had to learn intimate things about Tavros' body to make him a new pelvis and new legs. They end up spending extended amounts of time together to help Tavros adjust to his robo-legs, be that asking questions, helping him stretch, fixing things that aren't right, adding new features. (There's no way Equius wouldn't give Tavros a nook and bulge, sorry, not with his dedication to quality and also being as lewd as he is LOL.)

Also they'd bond over animals! Tavros having a bunch of horses come and say hello to Equius? Or any other small cute animals? Equius would be so thrilled and happy! Ahhhhhhh

My humanstuck AU, Reunionstuck, has Tavros acting as Equius' dom for a while, as a friends with benefits kind of thing. They end up bonding over bringing their career fields together, Tavros' veterinary focus being disabled animals and Equius' focus being engineering and prosthetics. They work together on professional projects find that they have a very good working relationship, even if Equius is frustrating as heck to work with sometimes.

My favorite poly ship for them - Probably some mixture of Gamzee/Tavros/Equius with some potential mixture of flushed and pitch.

Pasting from my Gamzee ask: Oooh, ho ho ho, love me some Gam♥️Equius♥️/♠️Tavros. Gamzee adores Equius so much tbh. Gamzee was just a huge sweetheart to Equius pre-game and just loved talking to him. Equius seemed pretty pitch towards him, but I think I like the idea of Equius letting himself be loved and recieve soft red affection from Gamzee is so cute.

In my AU, Gamzee and Tavros end up in a romantic relationship, but Equius maintains a close relationship with the two of them. Equius was very attracted to Gamzee back in high school and of course Equius and Tavros now have their shared experiences together. So now Equius joins them in the bedroom every once in a while and the three of them are very affectionate towards each other.

#homestuck #long post #tavros nitram #asks for me

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mellueminate · 17 days

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Thinking about what others say their robot bodies would look like and why I so strongly feel differently about mine.

Thinking this over, I don't know what this reads as. I'm just trying to reason why I feel so strongly on this, this isn't a criticism or commentary on anything larger than myself. I don't even know why I'm posting this, other than that this is my blog and I put what I want here - and that there's a chance someone can offer insight or relate to me.

It surprises me how when I imagine my ideal robot self, I'm willing to let a lot of details change or be up in the air - what organs if any I keep, what sensors and chassis, etc. - but the one constant is that I need a humanoid face and it needs to be covered with my brown human skin (or a synthetic that looks and feels like skin with a perfect color match). A bunch of ideal robot bodies I saw mention they want mechanical plate faces or no (humanoid) face at all, and that's more robotic. But for me, I need the skin I'm used to, for some reason.

It's not the color, darker metal won't do, it's the skin itself. I need my ideal body to still have that part of how i look. But my skin isn't even the part of my current body I most like - that's my hair and my eyes. But I'm willing to abandon those for a machine form (so long as the mechanical hair is still green and curled), and not my skin. I think that's a big part of why I'd like to be Banach-Tarski'd for gender reasons, there's the ability to self-dialogue and have simultaneous gender representations but also the whole point of the paradox (as I understand it, at least) is conservation of the outer layer, of the *skin*, through radical transformation.

I can't really articulate concisely why I feel like my skin color is important. It's not like I take pride in my physical skin, it's a fucking body organ (and there's enough fucking people out there too proud of their brown skin). It's got lots of problems in many ways but does its job of shielding my meat from infections. It's just there.

But like, it's the most obvious signifier of one way I've been Different in society for my whole life? My skin is a big part of how you tell what kind of person I am in this world, like it as not. I would never take pride in it, that would be terrible, yet it's not something I ever chose or could escape from in this current reality, so I need to be comfortable in being identified with it by everyone from strangers to the government. That's why I always choose avatars with my skin tone, because if this image or 3D model is gonna represent me then it should match me in a very visible way. I latch onto characters with brown skin despite not really caring about "representation" because when it comes to the representation of myself as an individual, I need them. I don't want people to ever treat me as a default in a society whose majority has never seen me as such because of how I look as a human.

But robots are defined in part by how we no longer identify with humanity. We don't need to be human, being in human bodies is dysphoric or unrelaxing (and this is true of me as well when I allow myself to really perceive what's in the mirror), it seems logical that giving up human culture is necessarily a part of that. Not to mention, we're Othered already as trans people (generally, but i could be wrong, i haven't done a count). Why bother with what the cis think anyway, this is about my gender and how I want to present and if I don't want to be like them I might as well have the mechanical plating all over. Fuck the existing cis-patriarchies and fuck the ethnic divides they abuse to their benefits.

But that feels wrong for me? I'm a racial minority in America, growing up I watched a dozen or more of my peers cast aside inherited cultures to fit in and be more American, and call themselves "Americans who just happen to be born to immigrant parents from Asia". (Which, in itself, indicates a level of privilege, since we *could* do that as middle class kids.) I'm loathe to do the same, because that feels less like aligning myself to the best cultural indicator and model of my gender, and more like willfully removing a significant part of my history and how I understand myself and how the world (for better and for worse) sees me and will continue to see me even if I decided to commit to a complete sex transition, breasts and neovagina and all.

That still doesn't feel like a complete defense to myself - race is a social construct, and one that should be deconstructed to benefit humanity at large. But it doesn't change how I grew up looking different and had to grow to be actually, truly fine with having a different look and heritage, and that informs my gender still. But heritage, while cute, isn't really important to understanding myself, and if who I am isn't tied to my ethnicity as strongly as my robot gender then why should it be relevant anymore. But it was a serious, critical consideration I had to figure out when I was questioning my gender, even if it's not one I have to confront every day. But I don't need to limit myself to being seen as I was in an ideal robot body. But, my parents built me to benefit them, and if they could have designed my skin when manufacturing me they would have chosen the skin color I have for that reason.

I feel like I once again need to stress this isn't a critique of anything - if anything, I'm definitely the weird, wrong one for identifying as a robot because it's how i understand myself best, but still needing my human skin because that's also how i understand myself. I guess I'm just trying to decide: can a robot inherit culture? *Should* a robot inherit culture? And if it did, how should it show it?

#machine yearning

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franzieee · 2 years

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My Future?

Imagining what our future holds, making new discoveries, and gaining new knowledge are not simple tasks for an individual. It requires some time before one can find it or come across it. "Vision is a picture of the future that produces passion." This remark touched me hard, it just because I am a futuristic. Being futuristic has opened my eyes to the fact that I need to work even harder to achieve the things I want out of life.

I am the kind of person who has always been filled with dreams. When I was a kid, one of my goals was to become a priest because I came from such a devoutly religious household. I didn't wake up from this dream until I was in the sixth grade. As a result of my admiration for the effort that priests put into their profession because of their dedication to their vocation, I used to have a strong desire to enter the priesthood. But as more time passed, it evolved to the point where I now want to work in the airline industry. This is an awesome profession to have. I also believe that working at this company will help me enhance my communication skills and will raise my confidence. But when I was a teenager, it became very difficult for me to imagine what my life would be like after that, so I forced myself to think critically and learn new things in order to imagine the life of my dreams. And now, as the clock ticks, I envision myself as a successful person ten years from now, who has a big house, buys my dream car, and travels the world with my family as a way to thank them for all the sacrifices they've made for me. In addition, I envision myself in ten years working as a successful attorney while also owning a sizable company. My ability to see these images was facilitated by SPUP. SPUP educated me on how to be a good person in a society and how to be practical in all aspects; hence, I can say that SPUP is essential to where I am leading because it taught me how to be a practical person. In the end, HUMSS is the ideal option since it will allow me to complete my dream program and earn the degree I seek. This is why HUMSS is the finest choice. In addition, HUMSS gave me the opportunity to improve my communication skills, which is an asset for me and will make it easier for me to communicate with other people in the near future. In addition, HUMSS has helped me become more self-assured while simultaneously expanding my knowledge in politics and culture. After I have completed my studies at HUMSS, I intend to get a Bachelor of Arts degree with a major in Political Science so that I can begin my legal education. In addition, I would like to continue with this course because it is beneficial to me in the context of the law lectures that I am attending soon. I want to be a lawyer so that I can assist people who have been wronged by the legal system, and I also want to be the voice for all those who have not been heard. Additionally, I want to be a beacon of light so that I can assist people who have found themselves in precarious situations in which they were unaware of their legal entitlements.

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linkspooky · 3 years

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my dude i love your takes on jjk so much, like ive spent hours reading and rereading them because theres this poetic beauty in your writing that i cant find anywhere else ❤❤ and if you could/have the time to spare, could you elaborate more on how '[gojo] is always staring into the infinity"? i find that concept/phrase so interesting tbh ^^

“Gojo’s always staring into the infinity”, in a sense, because he’s always looking at the whole picture at once he misses out on individual details. Gojo knows so much information, and comprehends so much information all at once, that he just has to filter out some of it.

I think it’s important to remember that there is a normal teenager buried deep down in Gojo, underneath all that power. That he’s more like a normal person coping with being given eyes that can see through everything, rather than like, a saintly individual. What do most people do when they’re overwhelmed? They filter out details and only pay attention to a few things.

Gojo is actually capable of perceiving people as individuals, when they make him acknowledge them, look them in the eye. I think one critical mistake Gojo makes is that he assumes empathy is a connection. Gojo doesn’t really feel connected to people, he observes them, and logics out their behavior, but that doesn’t mean his connections are any less valid than the connections Geto feels for people.

Gojo gives every indication with his actions that he did care for Amanai in his own way, however, he can’t feel like he cares deep down in his heart, and so because of that assumes that he doesn’t. Gojo is simultaneously, all too aware of himself, but also not aware of his own feelings. Like I said, Gojo is always staring at the whole picture, he receives such a constant influx of information that he doesn’t look at the details. Individual people become blurry.

That’s why Gojo always tethers himself to something else. Geto’s sense of right and wrong. Geto’s ability to read his feelings for him. Rules. Respnosibilities. Obligaitons.

I always say Gojo is constantly looking into the inifnity, because if you think about it, Gojo is always thinking about what will effect the whole world at once, rather than the individual.

Gojo perceives a crowd of people like this. They’re all drawn facelessly. He knows it’s wrong to sacrifice innocents, and will go out of his way following his own rules not to sacrifice them, but he also will do it if pushed.

However, at the same time if you think about what Unlimited Void does to Gojo as a person every time he uses it, it makes perfect sense why he filters out people’s faces.

Normal people, experience six months in .2 seconds, so imagine how much information flows into Gojo’s brain every time he uses it? Gojo is not only given so much power, he’s burdened with it, imagine the information that flows through his brain every time he uses his own abilities. He can see with his six eyes almost all of this, but no matter what he does, he’s just one man in the end.

Mahito has a very similiar reaction to Gojo, to being able to see people’s souls.

Individual life loses it’s meaning to him, because he can see the entire picture at once.

What’s the value of an individual when you are constantly looking at the whole? That’s what Gojo and Mahito are constantly dealing with when they are children, who are, too smart, and who see too much. Mahito and Gojo are also remarked as being similiarly childish, with no particular attachment to anything. They’re detached from the world around them, they respond by detaching themselves from what they’re eyes see, because it’s too overwhelming for them.

From that point they take the opposite approach, Gojo ties himself to rules, and Mahito acts like there are no rules but in the end they are both children with too much power. Gojo staring into the void can’t really see other people’s individual feelings or see how they matter, but that also applies to himself as well. Gojo can’t see his own feelings or take care of them so, floating alone in a void is a good metaphor for his ability.

#Anonymous #jjk meta #metasks #gojo satoru

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creativesplat · 3 years

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Oooo let’s do Revali! ✌🏻

Revali, as my favourite BoTW character, might be quite a long post... 😅

What I love about him:

He’s badass and hardworking and very cool. I find his snideness a little irritating, but it is part of his charm. He’s a candid upfront person not afraid to speak his mind, and not afraid of the consequences when he does. Revali also manages to have faith in his abilities and understand that he is perhaps one of the strongest (if not the strongest) champion out of the lot of them (although Urbosa could give him a run for his money), and simultaneously be terrified of failure and incredibly insecure in himself and his strength. I’m not quite sure how he does it, but it is fascinating. I suppose his ego flip-flops? He struggles with his place in the world and chases perfection that he can never have, and wants to be a hero, the hero, everyone loves and looks up to. I can’t quite work out if its to prove some disappointed/ disapproving person in his life wrong, or to make someone in his life proud of him. He might just be doing it for himself, but usually there’s something deeper in a person. Revali doesn’t want to be weak and he doesn’t want to be cared for, and is afraid of vulnerability and of love, which is something that the found family vibe of the Champions probably breaks down, at least a little bit.

All of this is inference and presumption though, since it’s fairly difficult to truly understand a character who got very little screen time in a video game.

I also love how young he is (around the same age as Mipha, Link, and Zelda according to Urbosa), because it gives an interesting angle to his character. I thought he was a little older than the other three before reading that, because he seemed like an immature 30 something (rather than a mature 18-20 something), and it makes his duty-bound grown-up-ness around the other characters (aside from Link) quite interesting. He, like Link and Mipha (Mipha, as a Zora, is around this age, and is mentally the same stage of development) (I won’t put Zelda here since she is 17, rather than 18-20), are barely adults (around 18/19) and required to fight a war against an evil that they all know barely anything about. They are all forced into a responsibility that they are probably far too young for, and it heightens the tragedy of these characters, who were brutally killed, after only just starting adulthood. It also makes his immature rolling eyes at Link and huffing angrily etc. in cutscenes more tolerable. Most people aren’t all that mature at 18-20.

What I hate about him:

The dude is just such a grating person. He is a jerk and sometimes I want to hurl something at his head and tell him to shut it! He’s so mean to Link… It is intrinsic to him as a character, but sometimes he really needs to shhhh! 😂

Favorite Moment/Quote:

This is quite a hard one, I really like the DLC memory with Revali because it's a very different side to him than previously shown, he’s upset and vulnerable and angry, and then Zelda announces her presence, and he’s back to his usual bravado filled smugness. We get to see that the cockiness is actually (at least partially) a facade to hide his fear and his self-criticism. I also love talking to him on Medoh, whilst Link is trying to free him and the Devine Beast, he warms up to Link and they grow together, so I can't really decide!

What I would like to see more focus on:

As far as I can tell, Revali is the only champion who isn’t of noble birth. He isn’t the son of the captain of the guard (Link), he isn’t a princess (Mipha and Zelda), he isn’t a cheiftess (Urbosa), and he doesn't have high standing within his domain as a magical and gifted person (Daruk). He’s just a normal ordinary Rito, even his rather minimalist diary, that says very little of note, particularly in comparison to the other champions' diaries, elaborates on this. One sentence I found particularly interesting in that regard was this:

‘Everywhere I go I receive praise and affirmations that I am the pride of the Rito. I...could get used to this.’

The phrase ‘…could get used to this’ (particularly after an ellipsis) implies that previously it wasn’t the case. Revali didn't get praise or affirmation from others until very recently (at the time of him writing the entry). Wether he was ignored or shunned by others, he was a commoner, rather than a noble or royal or of high social standing.

I guess what I previously talked about, the fact that he is the same age as Link (who is between 18/19 - 20 (Creating a Champion states this)) and therefore quite a young man when the calamity hits, would be interesting to focus on… I’m not sure how one would do that though… 😅

What I would like to see less focus on:

One thing is his attitude. There’s a lot of stuff how arrogant and angry he is all the time (and he is an arrogant angry birb, it’s true) but there’s not a lot of focus on the other parts of him, and I don’t actually think he’s all that arrogant.

The other champions have statues (with the exception of Urbosa, who has no commemorating items aside from the Thunder Helm), and Revali has a landing that was made to get to the Flight Range, which was constructed so that he could improve himself and help the children of his village. The other champions have things commemorating them, and how great they were (which is a good thing, don’t get me wrong, Mipha and Daruk deserve a statue) but Revali has a landing that advances Link in his quest and helps people, only the name (and maybe the Rito insignia that was on his old scarf) signify the fact that it’s for Revali. It wasn’t even originally built for Revali, but for the Flight Range, which was Revali’s choice when asked what he wanted done to commemorate his victories and success.

Here’s the quote from Creating a Champion about it:

‘The Flight Range was originally constructed at Revali’s request. Using its updrafts it is possible to practice archery and flying. Revali wanted to nurture the next generation of warriors, and later opened the Flight Range as a practice space for children.’

Actions speak louder than words, and from Revali’s actions I don’t really see a snobby angry puffed up Rito who’s a real fan of himself, I see a man that cares deeply about his people, about children, and about creating infrastructure that helps. Yeah, he’s a bit grating and he sounds like a puffed up jerk, but when push comes to shove, Revali genuinely cares about the greater good and the betterment of the Rito.

Favorite pairing with:

Mipha. I can’t really see him with anyone else, and even then Mipha belongs with Link, so I suppose a pining sort of Miphvali? Tbh, I don't really ship him with anyone, maybe in an au he would work well with Mipha, but idk.

Favorite friendship:

Link and Revali. No question. I know there’s little basis for it actually in canon (at least pre-calamity), since Revali despises Link because of festering insecurity, but there are little hints of bro-ish bantering sibling vibes. His relationship with Link is a bitter one-sided sibling rivalry born from insecurity and self loathing that blossoms into a genuine friendship and familial care. His growth with Link actually mirrors a more personal one I went through with my own sister, I loved that friendship because it’s something I can really identify with.

NOTP:

Following on from that, RevLink. They are friends with a grudging sibling dynamic and genuine care for each other, that's it (IMO). Revali’s story is one that he starts and finishes on his own, independently. RevLink eliminates what little agency Revali as a character already had and makes him just a dude who doesn’t want to admit his feelings about love.

Revali's story in BoTW is about hard work paying off, about perfectionism and realising your own limits, it’s about accepting a back seat and doing the behind the scenes work even if you want to be in the spotlight, it’s about tragic inevitability and the cruelty of fate, it’s about destiny ignoring the hard working little guy who wants to be chosen, and it’s about the unfairness of war and the cost of victory, it’s also about supporting your teammates, and working at friendships, and about laying yourself aside for the greater good. It is not a story of pining love and accepting yourself. It’s much deeper and more profound than that, and that’s why I’m not a fan of RevLink. The dynamic might work, they might even be a cute couple, but story-wise it damages Revali and the impact he had on the world (IMO).

I’m also not a fan of UrbosaXRevali but that one doesn’t impact the story, it just isn’t something I like.

Each to their own, but personally nether of those are for me.

Favorite headcanon:

Well, I have a few, but I’m going to go with these two (they're little weird and about fashion history and more the Rito in general, but bare with... 😅): The developers said that they were going for a more medieval European clothing style for the Rito, and they did, it looks great, but they may have accidentally given the Rito corsets. So, I made a head-canon to fit exactly that, to make it have purpose rather than just being an artistic choice. The pattern on the leather Revali wears is similar to the boning in a corset, and the stitching on the other Rito’s leather clothing (Teba’s in particular) matches a 18/19th century corset. I like to think that these are worn for the usual reason for wearing a corset, posture correction, back support, and support of the chest. Corsets used to be what women would use to support their busts before bras were invented, and since the Rito have rather large chests (in comparison to their small lower torso and little legs), a corset would be useful in supporting that. The hollow bones of a Rito (they must be hollow otherwise something of that size with such a small wingspan wouldn’t be able to fly) might make the Rito’s back require extra support, so the spine and back in general would be supported by those.

Another one of my Revali head-canons is that the Rito clothing he wears is antiquated, and shows that he lived 100 years prior to the contemporary Rito of BoTW, the fashion of BoTW’s Rito village is drastically different to what Revali actually wears: here’s a list because I came up with a little compiled list of stuffs (oh the things you do when you’re a writer and need the specifics of a piece of clothing…😂)

Revali wears Pteruges around his waist, Teba (and all the other warriors) wear a long piece of leather and two pieces of fabric ether side.

Revali has Pauldrons with only one colour, Teba (and the other Rito) have at least two (sometimes three or more) different colours on their Pauldrons

Revali wears jade anklets, and wears nothing on his feet, Teba wears armour on his feet, several anklets, and an armour like thing on his legs

There’s more, but I can’t really be bothered writing them all down here.

Anyway, thank you very much for the ask @wanderingnightingale! This was a lot of fun!! 😆 I’m so sorry about how long this was, but Revali is a very fun character to write about! Thank you for asking me about him! I love writing about my fave birb! 😁

#revali #creativesplat answers asks #character asks #botw #Breath of the wild #meta #legend of zelda

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yandere-mha · 3 years

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I know you touched on this in your first post about him, but what specific headcanons do you have about Stain with an intelligent darling who’s a perfect hero in his eyes - and even agrees with his ideals on heroism (minus the murder)?

I feel like Stain would be the most unhinged with this kind of s/o tbh.

TW: ABUSE, KIDNAPPING, UNHEALTHY DYNAMICS.

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION.

Yandere Stain x Hero!s/o:

I’ve mentioned before that Stain has the tendency to simultaneously worship his s/o and patronize his s/o, but this trait of his would be the most intense with a hero who he saw as a “real hero”.

Honestly, as strange as it sounds with him being so opinionated, I don’t think he’d be attracted to an s/o who agrees with what he’s doing. Though he’s an unhinged serial killer, he doesn’t like people who share this quality with him. He sees himself as an unfortunate martyr who has to hurt people for the greater good, not because he’s sadistic. Whether he’s actually sadistic or not is debatable but he certainly doesn’t see it that way.

He also has a fixation with the concept of heroism and greatly admires anyone who fits into his narrow definition of “real heroics” (i.e. All Might). Having an s/o around him like this would make him absolutely lose his mind. This is especially true at the beginning of your “relationship” and when he first initially captures you.

The reason for this is that this is before he sees your faults. He sees you as an angel and he’s done his research, so he thinks he knows every little intimate detail about you and Research Shows You’re Perfect. While he knows a lot, he doesn’t know everything. Still, he will be patronizing to you, telling you just how easy it was to kidnap you and scolding you on how a hero should have more measures of security in a world with so many enemies. It seems that he’s angry at you for being caught by him but he’s really just concerned for your safety. He sees you as niave for being such an integrious person and still thinking you can be able to change things from the inside - that is a lesson he learned long ago. While he thinks you’re perfect, he also sees you like a stupid baby.

As your relationship progresses and he sees your faults, he won’t admit that he sees them and he’ll keep worshiping you. However, you might find that he starts to be more patronizing towards you. This isn’t because he’s disappointed, but more because he now sees that he needs to protect you, the perfect hero.

He’s not a very chatty person, but when he feels like he wants to connect with you, he’ll - in his mind - have deep intellectual conversations with you. Sometimes the conversations are enjoyable and thought-provoking, but usually they are the ravings of a mad man, not even giving you the chance to add your thoughts and just assuming you agree with everything he says. You can disagree with him, but make sure you carefully explain your reasoning behind it in a tactful and well thought out way. He won’t take well to this unless you offer at least a half agreement like “I get what you’re saying and I’ve felt that too, but here’s what I’ve seen”. If you change his opinion on something, he’ll be very impressed with you, if you “say something idiotic” he’ll punish you. You’re walking on thin ice.

Because you’re a hero, he’ll have higher standards for you than, say, a civilian who attends a lot of protests. What I mean by this is that he’s not going to spar with a civilian beyond maybe teaching them basic self defense, but he will mercilessly keep a hero s/o on their toes the whole time. If you fail to defend yourself against him, he’ll chide you like a child and tell you why you failed. He wants to make sure that your ability to defend yourself and save people is up to snuff even if he won’t let you go and he considers your hero days a thing of the past. He’s also very nitpicky about your actions and the things you say. If he thinks you’re doing something a hero shouldn’t be doing, he’ll be quick to correct that.

As I’ve said before, he finds intelligence and critical thinking to be very arousing (if your line of logic correlates well with his). Because of this, he’ll encourage you to stimulate your think helmet with hobbies like chess, reading, writing, playing a classical instrument, etc. He’s almost like an over critical mom who judges your performance in these things and either hales you as a genius or flat out tells you that you need to practice more. He’s brutal.

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brawltogethernow · 4 years

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So, I don't think I've ever asked you this... what IS the whole point of the Spider-Sense? It really seems like something that only exists for writers to ignore or work around when they want to inject Legit Tension into a story.

I’ve thought about this power so much, but never with an eye to defend its right to exist, so I needed to think about this. The results could be more concise.

Ironically, given the question, I have to say its main purpose is to ramp up tension. But it’s also a highly variable multitool that a skilled creative team can use for...pretty much anything. It does everything the writer wants it to, while for its wielder always falls just short of doing enough.

I went looking through my photos for a really generic, classic-looking example to use as an image to head this topic, but then I ran into the time Peter absolutely did not reimburse this man for his stolen McDonald’s, so have that instead.

A Scare Chord, But You Can Draw It

That one post that says the spider-sense is just super-anxiety isn’t, like, wrong. It’s a very anxious, dramatic storytelling tool originally designed for a very anxious, dramatic protagonist. I find it speaks to the overall tone of the franchise that some characters are functionally psychics, but with a psychic ability that only points out problems.

Spidey sense pinging? There’s danger, be stressed! Broken? Now the lead won’t even KNOW when there’s a problem, scary! Single character is immune to it? That’s an invisible knife in the dark oh my god what the fuck what the fU--

Like its counterpart in garden variety anxiety, the only time the spider-sense reduces tension is in the middle of a crisis. But in the wish fulfillmenty way that you want in an adventure story to justify exaggerated action sequences, the same way enhanced strength or durability does. Also like those, it would theoretically make someone much safer to have it, but it exists in the story to let your character navigate into and weather more dangerous situations.

For its basic role in a story, a danger sense is a snappy way to rile up both the reader and the protagonist that doesn’t offer much information beyond that it’s time to sit smart because shit is about to go down.

Spidey comic canon is all over the board in quality and genre, and it started needing to subvert its formulas before the creators got a handle on what those formulas even were, and basically no one has read anything approaching most of it at this point, so for consistent examples of a really bare bones use of this power in storytelling, I’d point to the property that’s done the best job yet of boiling down the mechanics of Spider-Man to their absolute most basic essentials for adaptation to a compelling monster of the week TV series.

Or as you probably know it, Danny Phantom. DON’T BOO, I’M RIGHT.

DP is Spider-Man with about 2/3 of the serial numbers filed off and no death (ironically), and Danny’s ghost sense is the most proof in the formula example of what the spidey sense is for: It’s a big sign held up for the viewer that says, “Something is wrong! Pay attention!” Effectively a visual scare chord. It’s about That Drama. And it works, which won it a consistent place in the show’s formula. We’re talking several times an episode here.

So why does it work?

It’s a little counterintuitive, but it’s strong storytelling to tell your audience that something bad is going to happen before it does. A vague, punchy spoiler transforms the ignorant calm before a conflict into a tense moment of anticipation. ...And it makes sure people don’t fail to absorb the beginning of said conflict because they weren’t prepared to shift gears when the scene did. Shock is a valuable tool, too, but treating it like a staple is how you burn out your audience instead of keeping them engaged. Not to go after an easy target, but you need to know how to manage your audience’s alarm if you don’t want to end up like Game of Thrones.

The limits of the spider-sense also keep you on your toes when handled by a smart writer. It tells Peter (everyone’s is a little different, so I’m going to cite the og) about threats to his person, but it doesn’t elaborate with any details when it’s not already obvious why, what kind, and from what. And it doesn’t warn him about anything else-- Which is a pretty critical gap when you zoom out and look at his hero career’s successes and failures and conclude that it’s definitely why he’s lived as long as he has acting the way he does, but was useless as he failed to save a string of people he’d have much rather had live on than him.

(Any long-running superhero mythos has these incidents, but with Peter they’re important to the core themes.)

And since this power is by plot for plot (or because it’s roughly agreed it only really blares about threats that check at least two boxes of being major, immediate, or physical), it always kicks in enough to register when the danger is bearing down...when it’s too late to actually do anything about it if “anything” is a more complex action than “dodge”.

Really? Not until the elevator doors started to open?

That Distinctive, Crunchy Spider Flavor

The spider-sense and its little pen squiggles go hand in hand with wallcrawling (and its unique and instantly identifiable associated body language) to make the Spider-Person powerset enduringly iconic and elevate characters with it from being generic mid-level super-bricks. Visually, but also in how it shapes the story.

I said it can share a narrative role with super strength. But when you end a fight and go home, super strength continues to make your character feel powerful, probably safer than they’d be otherwise, maybe dangerous.

The spider-sense just keeps blaring, “Something’s wrong! Something’s wrong! God, why aren’t you doing something about this!?”

Pretty morose thing to live with, for a safety net! Kind of a double edged sword you have there! Could be constantly being hyperattuned to problems would prime you for a negative outlook on life. Kind of seems like a power that would make it impossible for a moral person to take a day off, leading them into a beleaguered and resentful yet dutiful attitude about the whole superhero gig! Might build up to some of the core traits of this mythos, maybe! Might lead to a lot of fifteen minute retirement stories, or something. Might even be a built in ‘great responsibility’ alarm that gets you a main character who as a rule is not going to stop fighting until he physically cannot fight anymore.

Certainly not apropos of anything, just throwing this short lived barely-a-joke tagline up for fun.

One of my personal favorite things about stories with superpowers is keeping in mind how they cause the people who have them to act in unusual ways outside of fights, so when you tell me that these people have an entire extra sense that tells them when the gas in their house is leaking through a barely useful hot/cold warning system that never turns off, I’m like, eyes emojis, popcorn out, notebook open, listening intently, spectacles on, the whole deal.

It also contributes to Peter Parker’s personality in a way I really enjoy: It allows him to act like an irrational maniac. When you know exactly when a situation becomes dangerous and how much, normal levels of caution go out the window and absolutely nothing you do makes sense from an exterior standpoint anymore. That’s the good shit. I would like to see more exploration of how the non-Parker characters experiencing the world in this incredibly altered way bounce in response.

It’s also one of many tools in this franchise hauling the reader into relating more closely with the main character. The backbone of classic Spidey is probably being in on secrets only Peter and the reader know which completely reframe how one views the situation on the page. It’s just a big irony mine for the whole first decade. A convenient way to inform the reader and the lead that something is bad news that’s not perceivable to any other characters is youth-with-a-big-exciting-secret catnip.

Another point for tension, there, in that being aware of danger is not synonymous with being able to act on it. If there’s no visible reason for you to be acting strange, well...you’re just going to have to sit tight and sweat, aren’t you? Some gratuitous head wiggles never hurt when setting up that type of conflict.

Have I mentioned that they look cool? Simultaneously punchy and distinctive, with a respectable amount of leeway for artists to get creative with and still coming up with something easily recognizable? And pretty easy to intuit the meaning of even without the long-winded explanations common in the days when people wrote comics with the intent that someone could come in cold on any random issue and follow along okay, I think, although the mechanic has been deeply ingrained in popular culture for so long that I can’t really say for sure.

It was also useful back in the day when no artists drew the eyes on the Spider-Man mask as emoting and were conveying the lead’s expressions entirely through body language and panel composition. If you wiggle enough squiggles, you don’t need eyebrows.

Take This Handwave and Never Ask Me a Logistical Question Again

This ability patches plot holes faster than people can pick them open AND it can act as an excuse to get any plot rolling you can think of if paired with one meddling protagonist who doesn’t know how to mind their own business. Buy it now for only $19.99 (in four installments; that’s four installments of $19.99).

Why can a teenager win a six on one fight against other superhumans? Well, the spider-sense is the ultimate edge in combat, duh.

Why can Peter websling? Why doesn’t everyone websling? Well, the spider-sense is keeping him from eating flagpole when he violently flings himself across New York in a way neither man nor spider was ever meant to move.

How are we supposed to get him involved with the plot this week???? Well, that crate FELT dangerous, so he’s going to investigate it. Oh, dip, it was full of guns and radioactive snakes! Probably shouldn’t have opened that!

Yeah, okay, but why isn’t it fixing everything, then? Isn’t it supposed to be why Peter has never accidentally unmasked in front of somebody? ('Nother entry for this section, take a shot.) That’s crazy sensitive! How does he still have any problems!? Is everything bad that’s ever happened to characters with this powerset bad writing!? --Listen, I think as people with uncanny senses that can tell us whether we are in danger with accuracy that varies from incredible to approximate (I am talking about the five senses that most people have), we should all know better than to underestimate our ability to tune them out or interpret them wrong and fuck ourselves up anyway. I honestly find this part completely realistic.

*SLAPS ROOF OF SPIDER-SENSE* YOU CAN FIT SO MANY STORIES IN THIS THING

The spider-sense is a clean branch into...whatever. There is the exact right balance of structure and wishy-washiness to build off of. A sample selection of whatevers that have been built:

It’s sci-fi and spy gadgets when Peter builds technology that can interface with it.

It’s quasi-mystical when Kaine and Annie-May get stronger versions of it that give them literal psychic visions, or when you want to get mythological and start talking about all the spider-characters being part of a grand web of fate.

Kaine loses his and it becomes symbolic of a future newly unbound by constraints, entangled thematically with the improved physical health he picked up at the same time -- a loss presented as a gain.

Peter loses his and almost dies 782 times in one afternoon because that didn’t make the people he provoked when he had it stop trying to kill him, and also because he isn’t about to start “””taking the subway’’””’ “‘’“”to work”””’’” like some kind of loser who doesn’t get a heads up when he’s about to hit a pigeon at 50mph.

Peter’s starts tuning into his wife’s anxiety and it’s a tool in a relationship study.

It starts pinging whenever Peter’s near his boss who’s secretly been replaced by a shapeshifter and he IGNORES IT because his boss is enough of an asshole that that doesn’t strike him as weird; now it’s a comedy/irony tool.

Into the Spider-Verse made it this beautiful poetic thing connecting all the spider-heroes in the multiverse and stacked up a story on it about instant connection, loss, and incredibly unlikely strangers becoming a found family. It was also aesthetic as FUCK. Remember the scene where Miles just hears barely intelligible whispering that’s all lines people say later in the film and then his own voice very clearly says “look out” and then the room explodes?? Fuck!!!!

Venom becomes immune to it after hitchhiking to Earth in Peter’s bone juice and it makes him a unique threat while telling a more-homoerotic-than-I-assume-was-originally-intended story about violation and how close relationships can be dangerous when they go sour.

It doesn’t work on people you trust for maximum soap opera energy. Love the innate tragedy of this feature coming up.

IN CONCLUSION I don’t have much patience for writers who don’t take advantage of it, never mind feel they need to write around it.

#spiderman #peter parker #spiderverse #spidey #marvel #danny phantom #one day you'll see what i'm doing with it in the project i'm collabing on w/ my brother and then you'll all be sorry and hopefully impresse #mirrorfalls #asks answered #essays

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fallingoverharrypotter · 3 years

Text

Torn a New One

This is based on the @drarrymicrofic prompt for pretend, and got very long. Heres the ao3 link :).

The shirt is supposed to make Harry look like that one Bratz doll meme; you know the one.

Thanks for reading <3 <3

Harry is a stoic man. That’s what Hermione calls him.

He’s sitting on Ron’s plush carpeted floors in his shiny new flat. Ron himself is passed out on a couch that costs more galleons than a year of Hermione’s tuition, with Hermione herself teetering on the edge of both her couch and hers and Ron’s refusal to bring up that they’re still fucking on the side of their tumultuous breakup. She brings up Harry’s problems to distract herself, and Harry tells her not to bother. Harry also tells her that she and Ron should just own up to their idiocy and sort their crap out sooner rather than later, and then Hermione yells loud enough to wake Ron with: Harry James Potter, you’re a complete and utter hypocrite. Ron does wake up when their voices raise like this, and then cordons Hermione off to the main bedroom leaving Harry to pretend that he’ll floo home, before the three of them end up eating cereal whilst sitting at/on Ron’s granite countertops the next morning.

All three look a right picture. Hermione is staunchly refusing to acknowledge that she’s wearing a t-shirt of Ron’s – old Canon’s merch that she’s absolutely swimming in. Harry, in solidarity, is also wearing one of Ron’s shirts without pants – the newest Wheezes rollout collection, classic stylized lettering (Ron’s got this beautiful flat because every single Witch and Wizard between the ages of 14 and 37 owns Wheezes now). And Ron himself is shirtless and in nothing but underwear.

They’ve seen more of each other than is completely normal over the last 15 years, but they’re still indulgent enough not to bring up any of the shit they refuse to talk about. They need a balancing force, Harry often thinks, someone who is outrightly honest and refuses the stupid little games that the golden trio fall into to avoid talking about their true feelings. That’s what Harry thinks inside his head, but his body ends up groaning and bending forward so his forehead smacks the countertops none too gently. His consciousness sounds more and more like someone he refuses to think about whenever he’s been drinking. Merlin save him.

“Oi,” Ron admonishes without looking up from his bowl. He’s leaning atop the counter on forearms and staring into his cereal, swirling the spoon around the stodgy mess and eating no longer.

Harry grunts first, and then says “gonna sick up, Ronnykins?” and gets glared at by Hermione who is onto her third bowl of cereal at this point. Right. Can’t joke about Lavender either, apparently. That fling definitely didn’t help the dynamic, Harry reminds himself.

“Jus’ don’t wan’ you bruising my bench with your fat head.”

Harry kicks out at Ron with his closest foot and makes contact, gets an immediate groan for his efforts, before Ron’s pulling up from his slouch and getting Harry into a pretty tight headlock. Harry resorts to elbowing Ron in the gut over and over. Ron groans and releases, making a mad dash for the fancy powder room into which he projectiles.

Hermione, for all she looks dazed and noncommittal this early into a hangover, manages to give off an air of created aloofness about the violent noises coming from down the hall. Harry smirks at her, and gets his own kick in response that makes him exclaim “ow, fuck. You two are so bloody violent.”

Before she responds, there’s a tapping at the window. Owl. Hermione stares at Harry to let him know that there’s no way she’s moving from her lounging for the bloody post, so Harry straightens up to open the window for the tawny. Efficient things these post owls are this morning; just drops the paper on the countertop near Harry’s bowl before flying right out the window without even waiting for a treat.

Harry’s shaking his head to brush away the last fuzz of the evening with the assistance of the scent of fresh air. Hermione gasps out loud. That makes Harry turn around quick enough for whiplash, and then he wishes fervently for death by sustained head trauma when the figure on the front of the paper, unfurled and sepia, winks right at him.

“Fuck,” Harry says. His gut churns, and then he’s running down the hall, past the occupied powder room to Ron’s master bath, and vomits up his guts.

***

Ron’s back in the kitchen by the time that Harry stumbles back in. Three strong cups of tea are quick-brewing under Hermione’s wand, even though both her and Ron’s attention is maintained by the Prophet’s front page. Because that is Draco Malfoy wearing a Wheezes “I shagged Harry Potter and all I got was this stupid shirt” collectable.

“It’s ironic!” Ron and George had insisted on its’ inception 4 years back. Only 100 had been made, a necessity: scarcity is key. They resell for a lot of money these days. Harry would rather die than see another in person. His face, a terrible photo of him caught by photographers during a pretty brutal night out, is plastered right on the middle along with stylized fireworks that go off every couple of minutes. He’d been convinced into making them, to try and control the narrative or whatever bullshit the Weasley’s had spouted just a couple of days beforehand when Harry had started stomping around the burrow or the floor of the joke shop or Hermione and Ron’s old shoebox apartment in anguish. It worked, he guesses, and he doesn’t see many of them anymore, as they’re kept in the strongest of imperturbable charms and modified protegos by anyone lucky enough to get one. But this one. This one he didn’t know about.

Hermione’s been muttering to herself as she read the accompanying story, when her voice perks up. “Merlin, listen to this: ‘this intrepid reporter asked what I’m certain all our readership will be most curious to uncover now that we are sitting down with the one and only Draco Malfoy. When we had sat down in Mr. Malfoy’s beautifully appointed drawing room, I too was especially shocked at his choice of attire,’” Hermione pauses here to roll her eyes and mutter “oh here we go,” before continuing in a higher and haughtier voice. “‘We all know the poise that Mr. Malfoy holds, one of Wizarding Britain’s most darling Stars, his performance in Wizarding Wireless serials having taken our world by storm the past 6 years. I must myself mention the serialisation of the modern take on the Wizarding classic story of Millicent Mimbletonia’s Marvelous Manor; captured this reporter’s heart, it did.’ What a load of absolute nonsense.”

“Oh, come on, Herm,” Ron says and knocks into her arm to get her to continue the story.

“Fine, but this is all absolute tripe. What was Draco thinking! Okay. Blah blah blah, you can’t believe how long this person goes on about Draco’s drawing room, blah. Okay here. ‘On questioning Mr. Malfoy’s choice to wear the now famously collectible Wheezes’ Harry Potter shirt, the gentleman seems to look slightly pensive.’

“‘‘Monsieur,’ our Star addresses me, ‘when you have been in the business of telling stories for as long as I, you start to have a great fondness for truth. I must now admit to you, and all of your lovely readers, that I bought this shirt on release and whilst under Polyjuice’. Now readers, you must bear with Mr. Malfoy here. Yours truly was very shocked-’ Good God, can this man obfuscate. Okay, then Draco says, ‘‘I’ve kept my ownership of such an item close to my chest, and away from my closest relationships. I have found over the years that true mutual affection, friendship, and love, have foundations built on beds of uncertainty and trust simultaneously, and thus I was afraid to expose myself.’ I but in here and ask what we must all be thinking at this admission: is he such a big fan of our Saviour that he is ashamed? But Mr. Malfoy continues: ‘No, monsieur. In all honesty, I am the man’s biggest critic.’’” Harry ducks his head, his hands shaking as he reaches for the now over-brewed tea.

Hermione looks up at Harry and Ron with wide eyes. Ron looks back at her wide eyed too, glancing small looks at Harry every now and again when he finds something particularly salacious, but he says nothing. Harry is hiding his trembling hands and trembling mouth behind a blisteringly hot cup of tea. She receives no objections, and continues. “‘‘I am livid that he’s been out of the public eye for so long regardless of his exceptional ability to bring about change in those around him; Potter has worked the same archival job in the Ministry for 5 years, with no end in sight, I fear. He refuses to allow those outside of his closest friends and family to know him in any sense, and I would argue that this is truly detrimental to his relationship with the Wizarding community. Although I disagree with the man on many things, I will be the first to say here and now that if any person deserves privacy, it is him. But the relationships we build with those we love-’’” and Harry snatches the paper out of Hermione’s hands.

“Harry,” Ron starts, reaching out a hand and grasping his upper arm. Hermione too has hopped down off the counter and is crowding Harry’s other side. He wants to shake them off, but he can’t. He can’t stop looking at the paper in his hands with Draco’s figure. Draco’s white blond head of hair turned beige on paper, his eyes sharp and flirty to readers, his hands restlessly gripping at his shirt. The shirt with Harry’s face.

Harry is a stoic man. Hermione tells him that exactly, Ron tells him that adjacently, and Draco. Draco has said the same thing in so many ways and at so many times that Harry has had it drilled into his head. His eyes are watering now, a little. And he can’t read much more of the article, but he doesn’t really need to. Because Draco will skate around enough of his personal life that it seems as though he’s come clean about something when he’s actually just marketing his next serial; it’s what he does.

This time, though, he’s wearing one of those terrible shirts that almost single-handedly sparked the Wheezes fashion line and bought Ron this apartment, and he’s saying things here that Harry knows are true. Knows are directed right at Harry. Knows because a week ago Harry had walked right out of Draco’s “well-appointed” drawing room, slamming the door and not answering the following owls. Harry hasn’t slept at his own sparse flat for a week. He’s spent time at Ron’s, spent time at Hermione’s, spent time at the Burrow. He’s even spent time in the dark halls of Grimmauld, which he hasn’t wanted to touch for years, no matter how many people around him shared their opinions on it being the perfect. Home. One day.

They’re standing there, the three of them, when a knock sounds on Ron’s front door. Harry freezes, but Ron staggers out into the hallway, still in nothing but underwear.

“Sweet Merlin, Weasley, could you put on some bloody pants? You do know it’s ten o’clock?” Says the visitor, and Harry just lets his back go limp, setting out to truly bruise Ron’s beautiful granite countertops with his forehead once again. He can hear Ron sarcastically mumble something along the lines of ‘yes Malfoy, of course you can come in’. Hermione grips his arm slightly in sympathy, but turns to face the entrance to the kitchen anyway. Like a traitor.

“Hermione, lovely as always. I see the three of you are in similar states of distressed undress this morning. Have you finally succumbed to your polyamorous destiny?”

“Nice to see you too, Draco. Lovely article.”

“Thank you. Do you like the shirt, too? Catches a sweet mint in resale these days.”

“You don’t say…”

“Yes, yes. Now, Harry, please pick yourself up off of the place we civilised people prepare our food.”

Harry groans into the cool surface, but can’t stop himself from responding. It’s a natural reaction to the bullshit that comes out of Draco’s mouth most times. “If you’ve ever made a meal by yourself in your life, I’ll eat the countertop.”

“Harry,” his voice is menacing, and his footsteps are getting closer, “I’m not civilised.” And at that Draco grabs Harry by the shoulder and turns up around and back up against the counter top with not a small amount of force.

Harry’s reply comes out breathless from the impact. “You said ‘we’.”

“It was a universal ‘we’.” Draco says this through gritted teeth. His blond eyebrows are sitting right on top of his grey eyes and they scream murder louder than they’ve ever done before, which is saying something since Draco was once a Death Eater, no matter what the admiring general Wizarding public would like to remember.

Harry doesn’t have a retort prepared, per se. It would be a more concise comment on how Draco hadn’t taken a single English language course his entire life, and what would he know about the universal ‘we’, but Harry meets Draco’s eyes and he’s a bit lost. A week of blanket non-communication. A bit extreme. Not gone longer than a couple of days without talking for years, have they.

“Cuppa, Draco?” That’s from Ron.

“Yes. Two sugars. Level.”

Ron scoffs, but Draco beats him to it. “Weasley it’s two-level sugars, please, for once, reorient your sense of balance before you spill the entire sugar pot into the cup.”

“Just don’t give him any sugar, Ron. He’s obviously already mental, we don’t want him to go into cardiac arrest.” This from Hermione.

“Uh-”

Draco scoffs before Ron can respond. “Settle down Granger. I’m not going to pretend to like black tea for some sense of superiority like some of us.”

“It’s better for your-”

“You know what’s good for your health?” Draco all but yells and spins around to face Ron and Hermione. Ron, still next to naked, and Hermione drowning in Ron’s clothes. She’s back to sitting on the counter, Ron leaning back next to her. They look like they’ve looked for the past 10 years – drawn to each other, allies, et cetera. Draco huffs. “What’s good for your health is you two sitting down and talking about your absolutely bloody insane coupling. What’s good for your health is not getting blackout drunk every Friday night and ending up sleeping with each other, and then not talking about it, until the next week when you can do it again.”

Ron and Hermione are shifting where they sit, Hermione, looking as though she’s getting herself ready to argue back, and Ron in a more protected position behind his ex-girlfriend. Harry feels a little sorry for them, getting the third degree from Draco when he looks as unhinged as he does now. The Harry on his chest, a mess when the photo was taken, is now looking at them disappointedly like he’s on Draco’s side. Like a magical recreation of a Harry who was in quite an intense meltdown at the time has any right to be “on Draco’s side” about any issues of wellbeing.

Hermione does get the strength to pipe up. “Don’t take that tone with us, Draco Malfoy.” But that’s all she can get out. Harry’s pretty sure she’s stumped. Doesn’t have an argument. Draco, Harry knows, has refused to get involved in this situation. Has watched from the side-lines and stewed. Harry’s been all for letting the two of them work their shit out in their own time, but he’s a stoic man, what does he know about all that?

“Don’t take that tone with us, Draco Malfoy,” is Draco’s retort, mocking back in a high-pitched squeak that Harry winces at. Hermione was about to hop off the counter, he could see, but Ron’s sudden arm around her waist kept her down. “You two just have to talk about it. So what if Hermione slept with Lavender? You guys weren’t together at the time!”

Hermione splutters, eyes wide, all thoughts of advancing physically on Draco gone. Ron sat eyes wide too, flicking between Draco and Hermione as if waiting for more.

“Wait-” he starts.

Hermione wails “Ron I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I know. It was such a bad thing to do-”

“No wait! You’ve been acting weird because of that?” And Ron looks incredulously at Harry. Harry sends him an incredulous look back, equally as surprised that Draco hit the nail on the head.

“What! You knew?” Hermione is still wailing.

Ron turns fully to face her and wails himself: “Of course I knew! How could I not know! Harry told me! Draco told me! Lavender told me! Hell, a month ago you got so drunk you told me.”

Hermione’s eyes are so wide that Harry’s afraid she’s going to start crying, and he grabs Draco’s arm in shock. Draco tenses all of a sudden and then Harry consciously remembers why he’s not doing that and shrinks back again. Ron and Hermione aren’t really focusing on anything but themselves now, so they don’t notice how Draco turns slowly back to face Harry, backed against the kitchen’s island like he has been since Draco arrived.

“And you, Harry Potter.” Draco pauses, and Harry has time to do a quick pass over. Draco on the front page of the Daily Prophet and Draco in the middle of Ron’s stylish London flat are two very different Draco’s. Quiet, pensive, charming and loveable Draco in the papers. Thoughtful. Friendly. A bloody myth.

This Draco. Angry, flustered, dishevelled, loud. This is the same Draco who, when Harry slipped up the other week – the week when everything changed – went red, went silent, went unresponsive in so many ways. Harry, fresh off the first love confession he’d ever given, so incredibly off the cuff that it had shocked him and scared him, had had to storm out of the apartment, slam the doors behind him, and apparate away to his own flat he barely spends any time in.

He’d slipped up. They’d never even suggested anything romantic between the two of them. They’d been close for a long time at this point and. Feelings. His feelings. They were supposed to be unspoken. He’d been nursing the growing beast of his feelings behind his stupid chest, which was okay as long as they were unspoken. Pretending every day that they weren’t eating at him alive.

Eating at him when he woke up in Draco’s spare room on more mornings than he’d liked to count, early enough before work that they could sit for breakfasts in Draco’s kitchen. And then Harry’s co-workers at the Ministry archives asking him questions about Draco’s new shows or his schedule or his favourite foods. Draco and Harry having dinner with Ron and Hermione at hole in the wall restaurants in the muggle world. Birthdays together; dinners at Draco’s or Ron’s nicer flats; bickering over anything and everything they could get their minds on.

“You hate my job.”

Harry’s eyes bulge open. Did he mean to say that? Sweet Merlin. It was definitely him, and now Draco is staring at him in confused consternation, as if he has to come to terms now that Harry’s gone insane.

Harry doubles down, though. Trusts his subconscious decisions. “Yeah, you hate my job!” he repeats.

“Are,” Draco starts, slowly, “you kidding me.”

He could respond, but Harry just shakes his head instead.

Harry’s thought Draco’s been properly angry this whole time. He was wrong. “I hate your job? Who doesn’t hate your job!” Draco’s arms reach out and grab tightly around Harry’s upper arms. Harry’s not above flexing, just a little. He tells himself it’s to test the grip, but honestly, he’s hoping to distract Draco from the rage.

“It’s not that bad!” Harry repeats, and Draco groans loudly.

“Not that bad? Are you trying to give me a stress induced ulcer?”

“What do you know about stress induced ulcers?” comes a faint response from Hermione.

Draco turns his head, hands still tight around Harry’s biceps, and says “don’t you two have make-up sex to attend to?”

Harry responds. “Ron’s sick.”

Draco glares back at Harry for a second, and then turns back to where Ron and Hermione haven’t moved. “Get out, you’re distracting him from the fight.”

“We’re the emotional support,” and “lame fight” come respectively from Hermione and Ron.

“Oh, that’s rich!” Draco yells in their direction, but Harry’s sure that he’s ignoring Ron’s comment. “Emotional support! You two have let this wanker,” a thumb thrown at Harry from over Draco’s shoulder, “probably crash on your couches rather than forcing him to face me. You’re all as bad as each other.”

“Draco,” Harry feels he has to say, and draws Draco’s attention from his two best friends who definitely have been letting him crash on their couches and had not once tried to force Harry to face his problems. He loves them a hell of a lot.

“Don’t you try to lessen this, Harry Potter.” Harry’s been on the receiving edge of worse glares from Draco, so this one isn’t that bad. Harry’s actually feeling a lot better now that Draco is in the same room as him. Feels his terrible, traitorous heart almost relax. “I’m sick of you three. You’re the worst bloody enablers for each other.”

Harry scoffs. Sure, they’d never force him to do something he didn’t want to, but it’s not like they agree with his decisions all the time.

Draco hears the scoff of course, and gives up on trying to chase the others out of the kitchen. He turns around towards the entrance, faces away from all of them and talks to himself at top volume. “This is what my life has become. The sole source of constructive criticism for the bloody Golden Trio.”

Ron snorts to cover up a laugh.

“I survive working for a fascist dictator, successfully rebuild my image, forge a new path for myself in the world, but I’m here. An overworked, under-rewarded, glorified therapist!”

Harry, Hermione, and Ron exchange glances. The other two look at Harry in commiseration, but Harry is starting to think that Draco has a bit of a point when he realises that Ron’s arm is still around Hermione’s waist who is leaning right into his side.

“Okay.” Draco takes a deep breath and turns around to face Harry. “Since they’re not leaving, you all get to hear this.” He steps closer. “I hate your job. I hate your flat. I hate that you won’t face up to hard things, and I refuse to be okay with any of that.”

Harry swallows hard.

“People are letting you get away with anything at the moment, and when you told me you loved me, I got scared. Because I thought that I’d become one of those people to you too.”

“That’s not-”

“No.” Draco stops Harry for butting in. “No. We’re not pretending any longer. I love you-” thump goes Harry’s heart in his chest, eyes bulging and smile unable to be stopped “-but sometimes I seriously don’t like you.”

Harry’s smile does dim at that, but only slightly.

Draco looks away at last, his hands on his hips, and starts pacing. “I couldn’t believe-” sharp glance at Harry through the pacing, “-you just left after you said that. I couldn’t believe you’d actually not answer my owls. You’re an absolute coward sometimes.”

“You didn’t say anything…” Harry mumbles.

“Oh,” Draco responds with an eyeroll, still pacing, “so you get to freak out for a week, but I’m not allowed longer than a couple of minutes to compose myself?”

Harry ducks his eyes, ashamed.

Draco hmphs, and pauses in his pacing to look down his nose at Harry. “That’s right. You should feel bad.”

Shirt-Harry shakes his head at real-Har- “God Draco, take the shirt off!”

“What?” Draco is shocked into pausing his restless movement. “Take my shirt off? You haven’t even apologised and want to get me half naked like the rest of you? I think not!”

“That’s not- ugh, forget this.” Harry reaches forward and grabs Draco mid-pace. “Draco.” Deep breath. Harry meets Draco’s eyes. Draco looks like he’s been through his paces. He doesn’t even look angry anymore, he just looks like the culmination of a week of stress. Ron and Hermione are eating dry cereal right out of the box from their perch as they watch, and they both give Harry nods and a thumbs up in encouragement when his eyes stray to them.

He’s a stoic man: Draco and Hermione are right. He hasn’t had to be brave in a long while. This is a moment that’s worth it though, even if he has to fake it at first.

“I’m sorry.” He has to pause at that, because he can feel the emotions bubbling up a bit too high. He takes a deep breath, and makes sure that Draco’s eyes don’t stray. “You’re… you’re right. About a lot of that-”

Draco buts in with “I’m right about all of it, actua-”

“Shut up, do you want me to get this out?”

Draco concedes.

Harry takes another breath, but the nerves have disappeared in the face of Draco’s unfiltered verve. “I shouldn’t have left. I was-”

“A coward.”

“Draco.”

“…sorry.”

“I was. I was a coward. I was scared. You didn’t respond, which never happens. You’re so good with your words.” He has to take a minute to collect his thoughts, but finds the right thread. “I love you, and have done for a while. I ran because I kind of didn’t mean to say it then. We were already fighting about something, and it just came out, which wasn’t right, and sometimes I’m so afraid that things will change, because you’re my best friend-” “Hey!” “-my best friend and I didn’t want to lose that.”

“You should have said that then.”

Harry closes his eyes. God, feelings are so bloody hard. “Yeah, yeah I know.”

“Oh well, as long as you know.”

“Draco. Shut up.” He swallows. “I like my job.”

“No, you don’t. You come home-” a sharp breath “-you come to mine, I mean. You come to mine after work and you can’t stop complaining. We like our jobs. I’m sure when Hermione finishes her ChP and becomes the Minister she’ll love her job too.” (“It’s a PhD, Draco, I’ve told you a million times.” “Maybe another time, Herm.”)

Harry has to breath deeper, because his blood is pumping a bit too fast in his ears. He drops his hands from Draco and takes a couple of steps back. A retreat. “I think,” and he has to swallow a couple of times before he can force the words out of his throat. He looks up and meets all of their eyes. “I don’t think I can do important things anymore. I. I don’t want to- I.”

“Merlin sakes, Harry.” Draco says. “I think it may be time we force you into therapy.” And Draco just looks impatient. “You can’t keep pretending it’s not a problem, and we can’t keep letting you!”

Harry. Harry nods. He thinks he nods. It’s what he wants to do, but he’s not really looking at anyone anymore, eyes to the ground, heart a bit too fast in his chest for comfort. He wishes that he was still eating soggy cereal in the kitchen before the post arrived this morning. He’s a stoic coward.

Draco seems to take a deep breath, and then he turns around to face the others. “Okay, get up. I’m sick of standing in Weasley’s kitchen.”

Harry takes a pause and looks at Draco’s face. He’s perfectly serious, and so is the Harry on his shirt. Harry’s heart is still racing, but Draco just looks resigned and present. He can’t help himself from smiling a little when his eyes catch on Draco’s. He gets a pretty severe glare in response, before Draco just walks right out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Harry follows, and hears the small grunt from Hermione hitting the ground behind him. Two sets of feet follow his own.

“Don’t forget my tea, Weasley!”

Ron scoffs, but still walks back into the kitchen to make a tea he’d promised about 20 minutes earlier.

Harry sits down on the floor in the same place he sat last night. Draco’s chosen the armchair near the fire; where he usually sits. Hermione stomps over to take the seat on the couch closest to the armchair, and Ron can be heard pottering around the kitchen.

“PhD.”

Draco looks to Hermione with a frown. “What?”

Hermione looks haughty yet contrite. Like she actually can’t help herself from making sure that Draco knows he was wrong, and feels a little bit sorry about it. “It’s a PhD, not a ChP or whatever you called it.”

“Honestly Granger, what does it matter?”

A harrumph from Hermione as she settles back into Ron’s expensive couch cushions. “It’s a very important thing.”

Harry chucks her a grin, and she smiles back proudly.

Draco rolls his eyes. “Why do you all insist on patting yourselves on the back constantly. You don’t see me singing my own praises.”

Ron let’s out a violent laugh from the kitchen, and Draco flushes a little bit, his eyes flicking to Harry who grins at him too.

Mugs float out from the kitchen, Ron trailing behind. Harry grabs his out of the air and cherishes the sent of the strong tea. He can’t help but laugh when Hermione grimaces at the taste of her milkless cup, and Draco looks at her as if he’s won something.

Harry’s won something. He’s won Draco sitting here in Ron’s expensive apartment, Draco rolling his eyes when Hermione chides him about his too sweet tea, then Draco chiding Ron when he argues that Ron made it too sweet anyway, and that if he has to have teeth work done it’ll be Ron’s fault.

“You can make your own tea, you know, you’re not that famous.”

“Actually, Weasley, I’m more famous than all three of you, currently. The only thing getting you through is dumb luck and a gullible consumer base. I get by on pure talent.”

“Sure, Draco.”

“Also, I expect thanks when Wheezes gets the significant boost in sales it’s sure to this week, what with the Prophet this morning.”

“Sure, Draco.”

Harry smiles. His arse will probably start hurting before his mug is drained, and the sounds of arguing will get tiring soon after that. He’s smiling so hard his cheeks hurt a little. He takes a deep breath. “Okay, fine. Therapy. I’ll do it.”

Ron and Hermione smile at him like they knew it was coming all along, pressed up against each other on the expensive couches. Draco just looks at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for who knows what. Probably an oral manifesto of Harry’s recognised faults and his plans to change them. Harry just smiles right back at Draco, wide and unashamed. Draco shakes his head a little bit, lips pulling up too.

Harry’s worried that if Draco keeps looking at him at all that he’ll have to walk over there and kiss him without warning. He picks his mug up and keeps sipping though, pretends he doesn’t absolutely need to do just that. Because there’s going to be time. Lots of it.

His stoicism has its uses sometimes, maybe.

#drarry #drarry fanfic #harry potter #draco malfoy #ron weasley #hermione granger #harry potter fanfic #god what have i done this is too long #love the idea that ron gets rich by capitalizing on the idiocy of the regular consumer e.g. like Supreme #drarrymicrofic #prompt: pretend #emotionally stunted golden trio #emotionally mature draco malfoy #very sexy dynamic #harry potter fanart #my fanart #my fic

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

Note

I love your story with LW and JC raising LS! Do you plan on writing more?

Delight in Misery (ao3) - part 1, part 2

“So, I have a problem,” Jiang Cheng said, bursting into the room.

Sometimes Lan Wangji wondered if Jiang Cheng had ever heard of any other way to enter a room. Through the window, perhaps, since clearly walking wasn’t seen as a valid alternative.

“Just one?” he asked, not looking up from where he was repositioning A-Yuan’s hand on the guqin.

“No, I – hey!”

A-Yuan giggled, and that made Jin Ling, currently nestled in blankets next to the guqin, giggle as well, and predictably, Jiang Cheng forgot all else in front of such adorableness, immediately crouching down to make faces at Jin Ling.

“Your problem?” Lan Wangji prompted after a few moments.

“Ah..? Oh! Yes. Remember how I got into a fight with – what’s his name, that idiot?”

Lan Wangji pointedly remained silent. Jiang Cheng got into any number of fights, given his temper, and those were only the ones he told Lan Wangji about – and he wasn’t always reliable on that score, either.

The doctor that came to visit every week was not given to gossip, as Jiang Cheng had promised, but his assistant who waited outside the door, never entering, sometimes said things.

Disturbing things, sometimes.

Lan Wangji had not yet found a way to ask Jiang Cheng if he really did capture and torture demonic cultivators to death – mostly because he didn’t know what he’d do if the answer was ‘yes’.

He knew Jiang Cheng believed that Wei Wuxian had been corrupted by demonic cultivation into something unrecognizable, that he believed it was his own fault for not having stopped him sooner, that he thought it was his responsibility to stop demonic cultivators before other innocent people suffered the way he had because of Wei Wuxian; he knew that Jiang Cheng both longed and feared any success in finding Wei Wuxian’s spirit, wanting desperately to have any hint of him again and yet terrified by the possibility that it had been Wei Wuxian, in the end, that had destroyed him utterly. There were many flaws in his thinking, but without that defense mechanism, Jiang Cheng’s psyche would collapse.

When Jiang Cheng was a little steadier, he’d bring it up, Lan Wangji promised himself. When things were a little calmer.

Soon.

“Right, right, I fight with too many to count,” Jiang Cheng said, grimacing. The expression made Jin Ling giggle again, as if it had been made to amuse him, and that lifted Jiang Cheng’s mood a little. “The one who called me a filthy cutsleeve that shouldn’t be allowed around children.”

Lan Wangji remembered. Even if Jiang Cheng hadn’t told him, A-Yuan would have: he’d been full of excitement at how Jiang Cheng had foregone even whipping the man with Zidian and just punched him full in the face with a fist full of purple sparks. And then there’d been some kicking, according to A-Yuan, and a great deal of shouting about how people who abused children were people who abused children and that being a monster had nothing at all to do with anyone’s preferences in bed.

That poor man – he might have escaped with fewer broken bones if his timing hadn’t been so bad. That confrontation had taken place just after Lan Wangji had finally confessed aloud that his feelings about Wei Wuxian were, in fact, of a romantic nature. Amusingly enough, Jiang Cheng had not guessed it – he’d spluttered and waved his hands and said really?! at least six times – which in retrospect was in line with his general level of obliviousness. After he’d finally realized Lan Wangji was serious, though, he’d responded well enough: he hadn’t said a word about cutsleeves or anything like that, not a single word. Instead, he’d immediately leapt into criticizing Lan Wangji’s poor taste in men, claiming that actually living with Wei Wuxian would have driven him mad within weeks.

He hadn’t said that Lan Wangji could do better, though. They both knew that that was impossible.

“I remember.”

“Well, all sorts of rumors got started after that – no, don’t look at me like that, I told you that I don’t care one way or another! I don’t even want a wife right now; could I even handle having a wife the way I am now, more nightmares than sleep and no ability to control my temper?”

Lan Wangji shrugged and continued to strum the guqin in a repetitive motion, demonstrating to A-Yuan. Jiang Cheng would remember to get to the point eventually.

“Anyway. Rumors. People have started – asking.”

Lan Wangji’s hands paused. “You’ve been propositioned?”

“No! Well, I mean, yes, but dealing with propositions from men is the same as from women; you just glare until they go away –”

Sometimes Lan Wangji felt certain that Jiang Cheng would never find a wife.

After all, one would have to put up with him long enough to find the tolerable parts buried deep (deep) under all the prickliness and bad temper, and that was a task fit only for the inhumanly patient.

“– and anyway, no, I meant…someone asked me for help.”

Lan Wangji finally turned his head to look at him. “Help?”

Jiang Cheng sat down next to him. “Jin Guangshan’s bastard, the new one – Mo Xuanyu. He came to me during one of the conferences recently. He’s…he’s not fit for Lanling.”

Lan Wangji frowned.

“He’s getting bullied at Koi Tower, and pretty badly, too,” Jiang Cheng said. “He gave me some examples. Nothing truly intolerable in isolation, but when you put it all together…He’s very weak. Sensitive.”

“And he approached you?”

“I know,” Jiang Cheng said, long-suffering. “What’s the point of being infamously bad-tempered if people still approach you to ask for things…? He said that he trusts me because he thinks I’m, you know, like him.”

“A cutsleeve?”

“Exactly. It’s not looked on favorably in Lanling, to say the least.” He sighed. “Sometimes I wish we were all like Qinghe. I’m pretty sure if Nie Huaisang announced that he was marrying a sentient rosebush, Chifeng-zun’s primary concern would be how good its saber skills were.”

Lan Wangji felt a similar pang. His own sect elders, at Gusu, were not especially favorable to the idea either – Lan Xichen had long ago warned him that he would need to keep his inclinations to himself and that, if he ever found a partner, it would be best if the two of them could maintain low profile, pretending as much as possible to be merely brothers or close friends.

He’d thought that had all sounded quite reasonable, right up until he met Wei Wuxian, and little by little the idea of denying the way he felt had become utterly repulsive to him.

“Anyway, I feel like I should do something? But I can’t interfere with anything in Lanling, you know that.”

Lan Wangji knew. Matters between the Jiang sect and the Jin sect remained highly precarious. Jiang Cheng’s agreement not to marry or have children had maintained the alliance between them, but there was always the looming pressure that they could one day revoke the agreement and reclaim Jin Ling – perhaps even going so far as to bar them from seeing him again.

It was one of Jiang Cheng’s many nightmares.

“I can’t not do something,” Jiang Cheng was saying, waving his hands, and that was sign enough that whatever Mo Xuanyu had told him had made an impact. Normally if something touched on Jiang Cheng’s bottom line – Lanling and its threats – he stopped thinking about it immediately. “If this isn’t stopped, it’ll only get worse and worse, and the kid’s unstable as it is…I wouldn’t be surprised if he killed himself. Maybe not immediately, maybe not for years and years, but – one day.”

The Lan sect prioritized the preservation of human life over all else.

Lan Wangji considered his options.

“But then we get back to the fact that it’s Lanling. It’d be one thing if he were a nobody, but he’s Jin Guangshan’s son – I probably wouldn’t even be able to get near him, usually –”

“Brother could.”

Jiang Cheng twisted to look at him. “What?”

“Brother could,” Lan Wangji said. “He is sworn brothers with Lianfeng-zun; he has an entry token into Lanling and is familiar with much of Koi Tower.”

Jiang Cheng blinked. “And this helps me…how? I don’t think even Zewu-jun, however kind, would make trouble over a second-hand story that’s not even objectively that bad.”

“He would believe me.”

Jiang Cheng went quiet for a moment, and there was nothing but the innocent plinking of A-Yuan’s fingers on the guqin.

“This had better not be one of your attempts at self-sacrifice,” he finally said. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to – especially for Mo Xuanyu, of all people, you don’t even know him – ”

“I am ready,” Lan Wangji said, and Jiang Cheng looked abruptly stricken. Lan Wangji didn’t understand why until he saw the way Jiang Cheng’s eyes flickered towards A-Yuan, then away, and then back again – as if he were simultaneously trying to memorize his features and also distance himself. “To speak with him only. I will not return to the Cloud Recesses at this time.”

Jiang Cheng gave a guilty start. “Really? You know you don’t have to –”

“I have decided,” Lan Wangji said simply.

Jiang Cheng rubbed his nose. “Well, good,” he said, not looking at Lan Wangji. “It’s better for A-Yuan to get a good grounding in the basics in one place before you move him around. You can always reconsider later, when he’s older.”

Lan Wangji hummed in agreement and looked back down at the guqin. “You may choose how to tell him.”

“Wait, what? Me?” Jiang Cheng asked, looking appropriately horrified by the idea. “Are you crazy? You remember that I have only the most passing familiarity with tact, right?”

“It will probably be better that way,” Lan Wangji said, and even mostly believed it. A letter would be too impersonal, a passed-along message almost certain to get garbled – he had never been eloquent in his terseness.

Jiang Cheng, however tactless, would at least be able to offer some context.

Besides, Jiang Cheng’s inevitable rant about the Lan sect’s mistreatment of Lan Wangji would likely take up several minutes, giving Lan Xichen time to recover from the shock and for his mixed emotions to settle into joy at finding Lan Wangji again. He had made his brother suffer, he knew, and he would have to explain himself and account for that – but enough time had passed, time spent here in the room where his beloved had lived, where they might have lived together if the world had been different, that Lan Wangji felt that he could do it without fear.

He was fairly sure Lan Xichen would respect his request not to share his location with the rest of the sect, and accept his refusal to return – and if he didn’t, well, possession was nine-tenths of the law. It would be very difficult for them to force him to return through anything other than emotional pressure.

A-Yuan broke a string and yelped, making Jin Ling start fussing, and Jiang Cheng immediately panicked, all other thoughts forgotten, and even as he unfolded himself to go over and make peace, Lan Wangji thought to himself that there was enough here to make resisting that pressure worthwhile.

Besides – if it came right down to it, Lan Wangji suspected he would look quite well in purple.

#mdzs #lan wangji #jiang cheng #my fic #my fics #delight in misery #Anonymous

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va9art · 3 years

Text

I think I’ve been quiet for way too long and I should come back and fangirl about it.

Before I go down the many lines of praises I have to just to let you know all about, all things considered, I think of myself as a huge Dramione fan but one that relatively to the majority of us in the fandom, doesn’t consume just as much.

I read fanfictions, but no that much - I read more books. (those sold on bookshop, you know the old paper concept).

I enjoy HP characters - but I somehow don’t branch out. (I tend to stick way too often with DHr and generally consider branching out when it’s a Draco/Hermione/Theo 🤷‍♀️)

I go crazy mad for certain fanfics too - but somehow I limit myself to rec those ff when asked, and generally leave only kudos.

So, if I’ve learned anything from @winewandsandwafflingpodcast I certainly need to step up my games.

First and foremost:

1. If you happen to read this post, go and click on the tag above, then find the podcast, put your headphone on and press play. Enjoy, darling.

I am now going through the very pleasurable job of catching up with the last few months worth of episodes - that somehow I missed to keep up lately, so typical of me, and I cannot express my gratitude to @frumpologist and her host @ladykenz347 enough for this podcast and their discussions. I am having such a great time listening to you fangirl-ing hard and simultaneously discuss on very deep level the analysis of fics and most importantly the fandom itself! You’re constantly touching important aspects of the world we live in - though only virtually, and I think your critical points of view, together with the voices of guests that you bring from the fandom, are a much needed review that we need to hear, explore and share together. So, really, thank you.

And it’s because of them and their Episode 8, that I finally branch out-branch out. With none other than:

‘The Secretary’ by @pacific-rimbaud

Summary:

Threatened with the loss of her trust fund allowance, wild child Pansy Parkinson takes her mother up on an offer she can't refuse: a job at the Ministry of Magic as personal secretary to tightly wound bureaucrat Percy Weasley.

The job is demanding, and so is her boss, in ways that Pansy never could have imagined.

When their mutual desires begin to spin out of control, how will Pansy convince her boss that sometimes, the only rules you need to follow are your own?

A loving tribute to the pure and criminally underappreciated magic that is the ParkWeasel ship, and the 2002 film Secretary.

Here I come:

This fic had me - all of me: attention, heart, fangirl wailing, all of it, from the very beginning. It shouldn’t really come as a surprise, since I absolutely adore PacificRimbaud’s writing style and stories. I am not quite too sure I can put Party Lines behind this fic, there is no need surely since one is a Dramione (surprise surprise) and the other one is a ParkWeasel, and why shall I even throw in there Major Arcana a Lucius Malfoy/Andromeda Black Tonks? This creator here has an extraordinary ability to make you instantly fall head to toe for rare pairs that you usually forgo, because - really, I know my linkings - and no, you don’t. The second you step into one of her story, the minute you begin to say ‘oh well, but that sounds nice,’ you’re so damn past the point where you can go back to your comfortable pairs, so much so that you might just want to change your introduction on Tumblr and just add the tag ‘whatever PacificRimbaud’s rare-pair present you with - I ship it’. I surely should, because now I’ve just locked eyes with a Draco/Scabior tag and I am trying to stay calm, because truly I should know my bloody likings, shouldn’t I?

I am one that adore, above all, Dom/Sub fictions without any worries to say this out loud, but I understand how this might not be the proverbial beloved cup of tea of one’s likings, so I should explain why this kinky fanfic won’t have you cringe in any possible way. Because she makes it sounds and feels so natural. Your read it and it makes sense. Particularly this fic, has the capacity of introducing a kink at the right moment, cleverly pacing it out throughout its 6 chapters. I liked personally how this was a fiction based on the discoveries of these sexual kinks, more than the narration of such things acted out exclusively. It has psychological description of it that just adds depth to the relationship - one I never even explored once in my life. And that now I’m digging for.

If asked, what’s the one thing that got me widening my eyes and going loudly ‘yessss, girl’, is Percy ending his working day on white paper, miniature crow, flying notes, neat and precise description of what Pansy should wear the next day. Down to her knickers. If you know, you know, if you don’t, read this fanfic right away.

Lastly, this writer here not only has created this (as many others) beautiful piece of fanfic, which I absolutely worship, but has also created an artwork for it! And I find it extremely lovely! I love her style (one that reminds me, and I mean this the outmost respect for both artists, the Fernando Botero’s style) and I feel so much for her that’s she’s written her fic and drawn for it, too. Damn, girl, you rule. (Also, I had the big, massive, apocalyptic magnitude size honour of having inspired her once to write a one off for a piece of art I made and which I am shamelessly going to tag along, because why not, the artwork might be average, but the story’s chef’s kiss! ‘Off the Ground’) Darling, I should have come and praised you high and loud a long time ago - it’s just not my modus operandi of participating in the fandom. But here it is, although you also write some rare-pairs that don’t meet the same degree of visibility and notoriety, as long as it makes you happy participating in it, I’m here for it and extremely grateful for your sharing it with us.

#annavek94 is ranting #fic rec #parkweasel #rarepair #podcast #winewandsandwafflingpodcast #frumpologist #ladykenz #pacificrimbaud #the secretary fanfiction #pansy parkinson #percy weasley #pansy x percy #fangirling #kinkystuff

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some-cookie-crumbz · 3 years

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Venn Diagram Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: DabiTwice; Implied Huwumi Summary: DabiTwice Week Day 2 Prompt Fill: Part of a longer DabiTwice Pro Heroes AU I have in the works and may have spoilers for more recent manga chapters if you aren’t up to date. Dabi reminded himself that he should maintain his composure, as expected of a Pro of his caliber. After all, it was just a civil meeting with another Pro to discuss agency lines and the swiping of a culprit. So what if the other Pro in question had a jawline of immaculately chiseled marble? He certainly didn’t care! Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.

Also Minor Trigger Warning: Implied/ Referenced Mental Illness

Touya checked his appearance in the mirror for the upmtenth time in the last five minutes. He shouldn’t be this worked up, he reminded himself, fussing as if it was a real date. It wasn’t a real date, he insisted to himself for an even larger attempt. Sure, the other had practically purred the invitation to coffee at him but that didn’t mean anything! It was just two guys hanging out and discussing the logistics of whether or not the other had stolen Dabi’s target from him! At a coffee shop that the other insisted was great for getting a handle on someone else!

So what if Bubaigawara Jin was 5’Hunk tall with a warming grin and sharp eyes? Touya certainly didn’t care! This was strictly business!

Which was why he’d spent two hours the prior night stressing over his outfit.

And then another hour and a half fussing over it when he woke up.

And planned to come up with an incredibly clever lie to tell Father as to where he was going, because God forbid Father know who it was Touya’s little meetup was with.

Touya groaned and scrubbed his face with his hands, reminding himself to stay calm as anxiety caused his skin to prickle with warmth. He was usually incredibly good at keeping his Quirk under control and had learned early on that his emotions correlated to it. Thankfully enough, Father had been quick to come up with tactics to handle his flames so as to halt his harming himself and allowing him to pursue Pro Heroics professionally, eager to follow in his father’s footsteps.

Which placed him back in the current moment.

Todoroki Enji was not an easily impressed or rattled man, more times than not seeming cruelly indifferent. This was, of course, just how the public saw him. Touya and his siblings knew that, while a harsh critic and incredibly awkward at expressing his feelings, Father was an ultimately good and kind man. He was also, however, a very disciplined and serious man, who took pride in his work and shouldered the weight of his profession with the kind of regalia he expected of others.

It was most likely why he had some rather… strong opinions about his peers.

The obvious ones were Number One Pro All Might, who he made his disdain and resentment for apparent all the time. After that came Hawks, ranked Number Three, who he found irritating due to his haughty behavior. They were the two big standouts due to their close ranking to Endeavor himself but much more so in how they had the ability to set him off in the first place with minimal effort. Hawks was your standard troll the handful of times they’d interacted, playfully digging at the older man in ways that he knew would set him off behind closed doors and then smiling through the tongue lashing. All Might was an unintentional irritant. His apparent ignorance to Endeavor’s self-imposed rivalry between them seemed to only further push Enji’s buttons regarding it.

And then there was Pro Hero Torrential, whose agency was their neighbor and Enji held equally strong opinions about. More times than not, he could be heard grousing about that “uncouth sea hag and her salty little hooligans” just across the way. Torrential herself was relatively skilled at what she did - well enough to rank in the top 25 - but she seemed to revel in firing Enji up more than chasing down baddies. Her own Quirk was water-based so she was always quick to use it to her advantage along with passive aggressive jabs just to prod at Endeavor’s ego. If Touya was honest, he didn’t understand his Father’s reasons for falling for it every time. After so long, he figured that it was the reaction that had Torrential poking and prodding like she did. Furthermore, there were 20 ranks separating them on the charts, so why should her opinion matter so much? Or was it more a matter of how frequently she was able to rattle his cage? However, Torrential was part of why Touya felt compelled to lie about who he was meeting up with.

Jin was also a Pro Hero by the name of Twice, who was Torrential’s faithful right hand man.

He shook his head and started to make his way down the halls to head out. As he walked through, he realized that it seemed Father was nowhere to be seen. Had he stepped out for something? He knew he was off work today, but it wasn’t impossible that something had come up. The man was a workaholic, after all. He felt himself relax at not needing to have any kind of story figured out. He stopped at the door to lace on his boots only to jump as Father walked in, Shoto and two of his little friends a few paces behind him. “Touya? Where are you going?” Enji asked.

He opened his mouth to answer, trying to keep the panic from being too obvious, when there was the sound of quick footfalls behind them. “Touya, you jerk! I told you I just needed an extra minute to finish getting ready!” All eyes shifted to Fuyumi as she came bustling into the entryway, pouting at her brother with her hands on her hips, all dolled up for a trip of her own.

It took Touya less than two seconds to roll with it. “Not my fault you take forever,” he drawled with an overly dramatic roll of his eyes.

Enji looked between his older two children with a raised brow. “Where are the two of you going?”

“Akiko and I wanted to go shopping today,” Fuyumi said as she stepped down to put her own shoes on, “but Mom was worried about us going out alone, what with all the escalated Villain activity lately.”

“So I offered to go with as bodyguard in exchange for Yumi paying for my grub,”

Shoto blinked slowly. “Hopefully you’re gonna have two servings, because I get the feeling they’re gonna use you like a pack mule,” he quipped flatly.

“Shoto! So mean!” Fuyumi gasped while Touya released a sharp bark of laughter. Shoto wasn’t always the best with his comedic timing, but when he was, he always nailed a bullseye!

Enji made a small noise of agreement. “I see. I was hoping you could help me with these three today, but this is much better,” the older man said with a small nod. “You two look after one another out there. And if you need anything, just call. We’ll be there at a moment’s notice if you need the assistance.”

“Of course, Father,” Fuyumi said, giving him a brief hug and quick peck to one cheek before waving at Shoto and his friends. “Have fun training, boys. And don’t let Father work you guys too hard.”

“I think it’s actually the other way around,” Touya hummed, grinning mischievously when Enji scowled at him. “You aren’t exactly a spring chicken any more, old man.”

“In yet I can still run circles around you,” he said back, the only shift to his expression being the slightest twitch to the left corner of his mouth.

“What did you sa-!” He was suddenly jerked away from the brewing squabble by Fuyumi tugging on his arm.

“Touya, you and Father can bicker later! We’re gonna be late!” With that final declaration, he was unceremoniously dragged out the door, Shoto and his friend with the green hair waving at them.

Once they were on the street proper, he readjusted himself and glanced sideways at Fuyumi. While her outfit was casual enough for a girl’s day to be plausible, he had his doubts. “So, what are you actually getting up to?” he asked suspiciously.

She flashed him an expectant look. “What, no ‘thank you’ for saying your floundering butt back there?”

“I wasn’t floundering,” he huffed.

“But you would have been the second you had to lie about what you were doing. Because clearly you’re going on a date. And with someone you think Father would disapprove of, if you feel the need to hide it,” she explained evenly. He winced and averted his gaze from her. Fuyumi was an incredibly quick woman, much to Touya’s simultaneous chagrin and relief. She was incredibly in-tune with the people she loved and could piece things out with them with the greatest of ease. This attribute could be a great asset or a detriment, depending on where her loyalties lay at any given moment. “Look, I’m not going to pry or anything. If you don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.”

“Thanks, Yumi,” he said with a small sigh. He felt his shoulders slump a bit as he relaxed. Despite her occasional bratty little sister tendencies, Fuyumi knew when to keep certain things to herself. “Just… I’m going to talk to Father about it eventually. Probably. If anything more comes of this.”

“Not sure if this mystery man is gonna pass the first date test?” she asked while waggling her eyebrows at him playfully.

He contemplated answering that it wasn’t a date, but a work-related conference. Because he was still insisting to himself that it really was only that. “Not sure if I’m gonna pass the first date,” he grumbled quietly.

“Touya,” she said in quiet shock. He tried to ignore her by continuing to walk, but she reached out and grabbed his arm. He stopped and turned to face worried cerulean eyes. “Hey, if the first date doesn’t go well, that’s not your fault. It could just mean you two aren’t as good together as you initially thought.”

“Just like the last two guys I tried to get serious with?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. He didn’t like thinking about it, really. But it felt like… Well, outside of his family name, he didn’t have much to offer a boyfriend. His own rise to acclaim as a Pro was far from glamorous and he knew his tendency towards sarcasm and dramatics weren’t always the biggest appeals to lots of people.

Fuyumi huffed and reached up to lightly pat his cheeks. “Hey,” she said, her tone serious and firm in a delicate way that only she and Mom seemed capable of, “I know what you’re thinking and I’m gonna break down why you’re wrong. You’re successful, you’re funny, you’re smart, you know what you want and how to get it. And, most importantly, you know who you are and don’t put up with other people’s crap. Those guys before? They were just assholes who thought they could ‘fix’ you without realizing you don’t need fixing. It’s not your fault if they were intimidated by you and how comfortable you are in your own skin.”

He opened his mouth to say something before chuckling quietly and closing his eyes. “Damn, just cutting straight through, huh?”

She giggled and let her hands shift to carefully adjust the janked collar of his leather coat. “Now, cheer up! You’re clearly interested in this guy, whoever he is, so focus on having fun!”

“Fine, fine,” he mused, opening his eyes to glance at her again. He realized that they should probably iron out the details of their plan. It’d look suspicious if they came home without the other, after all. “So, how do we wanna deal with the rents when we get back?”

“Akiko’s already aware of the cover story, so I’ll let her know to cover for you, too, just in case. We were going to meet up for dinner around 5:30-6. You can join us for gossip, and then we go home together afterwards,” she suggested as they reached a crosswalk. He nodded as he hit the sign to keep going north, towards the train station, while she moved to go west. “I’ll add you to our text chat so that you know where to meet us at.” With that said, she waved and scampered across the crosswalk as it turned, lifting her hand to wave at a figure waiting on the other side.

Touya froze for a second as he took in the figure, wearing baggy clothes, large shades and a cap with a wide brim. The outfit was clearly a front to keep their actual physical characteristics hidden; whether to avoid the ire of the Todoroki men or not, Touya wasn’t entirely sure. He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his gaze as Fuyumi rushed to their side. They offered one of their arms to her, which she eagerly attached to, her back still facing Touya. The capped figure glanced up briefly and Touya froze at the sharp golden eyes fixated on him, followed by a sly grin.

He was tempted to follow after them but then the crosswalk chimed for him. He decided to leave it until later, given Fuyumi had done him a favor. He couldn’t shake his sudden hunger for barbeque-style chicken wings, though.

Thankfully enough, he showed up right on time at the agreed upon coffee shop. Bubaigawara was waiting out front for him, one hand in the pocket of the bomber jacket he was wearing while the other was scrolling through something on his phone. He perked up as Touya approached, his phone immediately disappearing into his pocket. “Hey! Hope it wasn’t a hassle finding this place,” he prompted.

Touya flashed a small smirk as he reached him. “Think I’ll be disoriented just because we’re in a shop on your agency's side?”

He chuckled and indicated the simple chalkboard display and Wooden hanging sign that read “Bean There, Brew That” above the front door of the shop. “More just because this place is a little bit of a hole in the wall. Owner’s a real sweet lady, though,” he assured before reaching for the door and holding it open for him. “After you, Dabi.”

He laughed as he slipped past. “I ain’t on duty; drop that formal bullshit. Just call me Todoroki or Touya,” he groused.

“In that case, Todoroki,” Twice said as he walked in after him, “fuck the formal bullshit with me, too.”

“Sounds good, Bubaigawara,” he agreed, allowing the other to lead him to the front counter. The shop, as he said, was a simple and laid-back place, with quiet piano music playing over the speaker and only two or three other patrons occupying the joint. The elderly owner was behind the counter, ringing customers up, while her grandkids helped her with preparing orders. Bubaigawara insisted on paying for both their drinks while Touya was sent to find a seat. He ended up selecting a spot by the window.

There was a soft thunk as his drink was set in front of him. “Fan of people watching?” Bubaigawara asked as he settled in across from him.

“Nice way to kill time,” he shrugged, sliding his drink closer. He carefully removed the plastic lid and watched the steam roll out in large uneven plumes, the strong and thick scent of fresh brewed coffee filling his senses. “Tended to do it a lot as a kid. Learned when a lot of the other kids were getting up to dumb shit.”

“Oh, that must have made you real popular with your peers as you got older!” he laughed.

Touya snorted himself as he took a sip of his drink. “Enough so that I got kicked out of my ritzy lil school,” he scoffed. The blonde haired man perked up at that, sipping his own drink and making a noise of interest. Realistically, Touya knew he shouldn’t be sharing this fact so early on. This information was more of a second or third date sort of thing. But… He also didn’t want to have to skirt around parts of himself. He was a work in progress and he wanted to make sure any potential partners were aware. “My first year at UA I got in a real bad fight with some other kid. Now, admittedly, I wasn’t exactly the scholarly type to start with, and I’d butted heads with this particular dick more than once. Ratted him out for cheating on a practical test so him and his buddies jumped me after school. Pretty sure I broke the asshole’s jaw and left him with some permanent burn marks.”

“Sounds like they deserved it, though,” the other said evenly. “I mean, they attacked you. And they outnumbered you. You were just defending yourself.” He took another sip of his drink and flashed an amused smirk. “Plus you’re the one that became a Pro, even without attending a proper Hero school. You’re the one that cared enough to still deserve a career in the field while I’d be willing to wager those dipshits all flunked out or are nothing but coffee jockies.”

Touya froze as he leaned to take another sip of his drink. He blinked three times in quick succession before shaking his head. “What?”

“What?” he parrotted back, glancing back up in surprise.

“You… You’re serious?”

“Yes…? I mean, again, they started it. Did they just expect you to roll over and take it? You wouldn’t just let a Villain you stopped from robbing a bank curb stomp you under the principle of alerting the police that they were going to be apprehended,” he pointed out, waving one hand as he spoke.

Touya continued to stare, mind reeling. While Father hadn’t been angry with him for getting thrown out of UA, he also hadn’t been thrilled. His pride in his son for doing what was right was undercut by his disappointment in that same son not showing the restraint he knew he had. The resulting lecture from Father had been a strange mix, trying to insist he stand by his morals but also knowing when to back down from a fight. Even to this day, though, Touya struggled with that specific concept. After all, it was up to Pro Heroes to protect the public, to assure law and order was upheld. If they didn’t hold other Pros to the same standard, what good was all their preaching? It would be nothing more than moral grand-standing.

“And, I mean, if it makes you feel better, I dropped out of middle school,” Bubaigawara said with another shrug.

“No joke?” Touya asked, relaxing at the table and leaning a bit closer.

He hummed. “That was around the time that, uh, my mental health took a nosedive. Struggled with that shit for a long time. Got this as a result of all that, actually,” he laughed lightly, reaching up to tap the long scar that ran down the center of his scar. Touya had only really seen it a handful of times and always assumed it was something medical, but now that he looked at it closer, he could tell that it wasn’t perfectly symmetrical like he always thought. “I… Kinda gave up, to be honest. Everyone around me gave up on me, so what was the point? I decided to just become who everyone assumed I always was for a good couple of years. But then… After the worst week of my fucking life… Captain found me.”

Touya blinked in surprise. Captain was the term that Torrential’s staff called her by. He knew part of it was as a show of respect and he’d heard she recruited her staff through unconventional means, but the details weren’t something he’d explored. “Huh… And she set you on the right path?”

“Don’t know if she really even meant to get me the way she did,” he confessed with a wistful smile. He sipped his drink and stared outside at the few passersby. “But long story short, she pushed me to follow my passions and gave me the encouragement I needed to do it. But I’ll tell you about that another time.”

A small chuckle escaped Touya at that. “I’ll hold you to that,” he hummed, feeling more at ease on this date than he had on any in the last three years.

And, yes, he finally embraced that he was on a date.

#My Hero Academia #DabiTwice #Dabi #Twice #DabiTwice Week #DabiTwice Week 2021 #my fics #TW: Mental Health Issues #TW: Violence #I had a lot of fun with this one!#These two most def have similarities in canon #So I wanted to highlight the idea of them having similarities in this AU as well

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