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thesinglesjukebox · 6 months

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THE BEATLES - "NOW AND THEN"

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The gang's all back together! And it feels so... uh, well...

[3.53]

Tara Hillegeist: As a way to squeeze blood and money from a legacy that doesn't need the teary-eyed hagiography half as much as it needs a rest, this is nothing short of ghoulish. As a chance for the surviving members of history's most-mythologized pop band to have one last chance to reckon with their memories of absent friends, and the sometimes-miraculous sometimes-acrimonious friendship that was responsible for a magical time in their lives not even death will see them outpace, however... would that we all could be so fondly remembered, despite giving it our worst. How do I score something at once this obscenely unnecessary and heart-wrenchingly earnest to two decimal places? Should I hope anyone is going to do the same, fifty years from now, for One Direction? [5]

Taylor Alatorre: "The Last Beatles Song" carries about the same ring as "The McRib Farewell Tour," especially after McCartney's hasty clarification that the use of AI software for routine audio clean-up did not imply any procedurally generated singing. Still, I can't fault Peter Jackson for his basic recognition that, 54 years after "The End," Beatlemania has not yet bitten the dust. Given its origins, it was always going to be a challenge for "Now and Then" to avoid sounding like a song from nowhere, and it even takes a little while to avoid sounding like a tribute to Badfinger. But the decision to lean on the string section in the latter half, and the unabashed grandiosity of those sun-drenched vocal harmonies, help the song transcend its homework-like inception, turning its strange out-of-body nature into a selling point -- perhaps the selling point. Better to frankly acknowledge the role of earnest multigenerational fandom in the track's existence than to try and meticulously recreate the precise Revolver studio set-up. [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: One of those songs that makes you want to quote Baudrillard and Adorno and Steyerl and meditate on the nature of aesthetic production under contemporary techno-capital. But frankly, I'm lazy and this song is a complete non-entity if you try and extricate it from the circumstances of its creation. Let me know when they find another lost demo and we get The_final_Beatles_song_[FINAL]_[REALLY FINAL].mp3 [4]

Edward Okulicz: Not much of a song, but has the benefit of quite a lovely, wistful arrangement. But that's it -- it's just not much of a song. I hope people aren't going to blame Giles Martin for it being rubbish the same way they blamed Jeff Lynne for "Free as a Bird" being terrible, because he's done a good job with not a lot of material to work with. I hope this makes the estates of John Lennon and George Harrison very happy. [3]

David Moore: I know it's cringe to be so into the Beatles, to think about them all the time and know all their songs well enough that with some accuracy I'd be able to predict the next song in an alphabetical countdown, to read enormous biographies of them, to have strong opinions about the Glyn Johns mix of Let It Be. And I know this song is barely even a song -- that they scraped some fledgling John Lennon melody out of the bottom of a fish tank and let the wannabe Martin (the young one) and wannabe McCartney (the old one) and the one and only Ringo (immortal, eternal, peace and love) gussy it up with a half-convincing pile of pastiche instead of just letting the thing be (see what I did there; did I mention I have strong opinions about the Glyn Johns mix?). I know that there's something a little rank about it, like an air freshener in a morgue, even before Peter Jackson reminded everyone that his first film was called Bad Taste. And I know it doesn't speak very highly of me to admit that even given all that, and potentially worse things to boot, there's probably no way this could have gotten below a [5] from me no matter what final form it took. But it's the truth. [6]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: This sad, misshapen ballad points to the Beatles' greatest fault: their lyrics could rarely keep apace with their musical curiosity. That's especially clear on the group's simpler, late-career songs, like this pathetic AI-assisted final single. Its aimless meandering finds an emotional core in the harmonized "you" that ends the first verse, but everything else fails to live up to that evocation, devolving into hackneyed sentiment. Released alongside "Love Me Do" to mark this as their final bow, "Now and Then" is a reminder that even when the Beatles started out, the simple lyrics held purpose: "Love Me Do" had relatively dry production compared to their contemporaries' work, and its raw sentiment was palpable, splitting the difference between schoolyard chant and workman-like charm. Comparatively, this track doesn't own up to its straight-ahead lyricism and uses a grandiose arrangement to convince you of its depth. Consider how Lennon admitted that "Something" was the best song on Abbey Road -- neither he nor McCartney could match the poetic grace that Harrison attained. We can now conclude that this was true until the very end. [2]

Alfred Soto: George Harrison, as Jorge Luis Borges said about Oscar Wilde, was almost always right. [3]

Aaron Bergstrom: I was in middle school in 1995 when The Beatles Anthology documentary premiered, and I hadn't planned on caring about it. I was an all-consuming sports nerd and music just wasn't something that registered with me. I knew the Beatles were a band. I probably could have given you "1960s" and "England," but that's about it. (Now, could I have recited the 1991 Minnesota Twins roster from memory? Absolutely.) Still, I lived in a small town before the internet and there wasn't much else going on. Anthology became the type of manufactured cultural event that I couldn't avoid. So while "Free As A Bird" wasn't the first Beatles song I ever heard, it was the first time I had the conscious thought, "Oh, so this is what the Beatles sound like." And... something happened. I can't really explain it. Like a fish discovering water, it suddenly clicked that the Beatles were everywhere. They were "I Want To Hold Your Hand" but they were also "Yellow Submarine" but they were also "Let It Be." I fell in love with the music, but it was more than that. I needed to understand why I loved it. It flipped a switch somewhere inside me that has stayed on ever since. I had to know everything. Who were they? Where did they come from? Why did they sound like this? Who else sounded like this? It's a straight line from that moment to me writing these words today. And I know most hardcore Beatles fans don't care for "Free As A Bird." Or "Real Love." I know that they're fake, and weird, and a cheap ploy to sell studio outtakes that otherwise weren't all that interesting, and I get it, but to me they'll always sound like the moment right before the world cracked open. I don't get to have that experience with "Now and Then." You only get to be a blank slate once. "Now and Then" is fine. It drags a bit. It's a rickety frame trying to support a lot of weight. It's even faker and weirder than the first two "new" Beatles songs. It probably didn't need to exist. Would it make my personal top hundred Beatles songs? I doubt it. But I'm glad it exists, if only on the off chance that it winds up as the bizarre first chapter in some other kid's origin story. [6]

Katherine St Asaph: Pretty! [6]

Nortey Dowuona: Shit is trash. Earth Wind Fire better. [0]

Ian Mathers: If you ever doubt my commitment to TSJ, remember that I could have gotten through the rest of the year without ever hearing this song had it not appeared in the blurber. And I definitely wouldn't have seen its absolute godless abomination of a video. The song itself is mid, mostly just existentially inessential, but we need to take an absolutely harsh line against condoning shit like that video. To be very clear, I don't mean the technology itself, which I imagine could be used in all sorts of worthwhile creative and/or horrifying ways. I mean the specific cultural, aesthetic, emotional context of this video. I could be the world's biggest Beatles fan or hater (I'm neither!) and I would still feel the same way and give this the same mark. [0]

Tim de Reuse: Given what the meaning of the term has warped into in the last year, the only reason to describe the use of source-separation methods as "Artificial Intelligence" to the general public is if you want people to think that a room full of sweaty engineers created a Lennon effigy out of linear algebra and poked it until it sang. The idea of finishing the work of somebody long-dead, making a collage of the debris that fell off of them when they were still breathing -- well, that's centuries old. Were they scared that the phrase "New Beatles Song" wouldn't cut it? Need to zhuzh it up a little? The idea that the Beatles, of all groups, would need a little sprinkle of our flaccid un-future to remain relevant is deeply funny to me -- doubly so, after noting how unremarkable the tune itself is, and how that pleasant unremarkability is exactly what people appear to be responding to. In the present moment we'd all kill for a pleasantly unremarkable week. Why on earth would you want to remind people that they're living in 2023? [6]

Will Adams: "Hello, my name is Princess Jane. I would like to show you some tricks. I hope you enjoy it." [0]

Michael Hong: Garbage in, garbage out. [2]

Andrew Karpan: Among the great, indelible images of the early 21st century ought to be the sputtering, GIF-like loop of John Lennon joyfully playing with his tie, significance perhaps unknown until commissioned for use to illustrate a song he never knew he was writing and was only foggily aware of singing. Whether a revelation as advertised, or a creepy "echoey mausoleum" as warned is besides the point, since it isn't quite a song so much as a curious facsimile of one. Feels perverse to listen to it with anything besides curious awe. [3]

Hannah Jocelyn: Damn "Now and Then," you've got the whole audiophile squad laughing. You have cutting edge AI technology, but not a dynamic EQ to take the resonances on John Lennon's voice? You have the last song from a legendary classic rock group, then seemingly slam an OTT instance on the mix bus to make it "modern?" The mastering engineer Miles Showell even said that he worked with the less limited mix, calling back to the last big audiophile controversy. And yet, Ringo's drums come in and I'm suddenly mini-Hannah, equally mesmerized by "Strawberry Fields Forever" and "Yellow Submarine" because I had no conception of 'good' and 'bad' yet. There IS a lot to love, if you're able to pick it out without turning on Dolby Atmos; Lennon's melody is unassumingly beautiful, and I even like Paul trying to be George with the slide guitar solo. The string arrangement is very Phil Spector-overworking-Let-It-Be, and Lennon would probably hate it, but I find it lovely. At any rate, it's better than "Postcards from Paradise." [6]

Frank Falisi: Rough season to be a late-era McCartney truther. Why do you begin to think of your aesthetic project as dying in public? Politicians don't have the gumption to consider their mortality, so we're just left with the rot sloughing down the tubes of democracy, same as it ever was. What about pop stars? What about one of the pre-eminent experimental melodists in modern pop music? Living in the sundown shadow reach of every friend and lover and enemy, gone and departed before you. And to wake up, fingers cracked with England winter cold, capable of moving a bass string, just slower. To be on the worst end of the commodity inquest: they can keep bleeding your memory bank dry for dividends. A photo book, a lyric book, another lyric book, a legacy tour. Just one more memory in the bank. When does being garish back feel like all you can do? When does it not matter if you're composing out of love, if you're trying to write a new song, if you're trying to square your slowing mornings and long long nights -- every gesture gets legacy gnarl, an emotional formaldehyde that inverse's pop's gummy possibility. Lennon became a dorm-room poster ka-ching! before the dirt went cold. How else was it ever going to end? Why would an extractive system that can commodify even a novel melody, a heated-up lust change in how it treats its old stories? No Dylan Thomas rage, no Cohen hallelujah here, just the sneer of another old compatriot walking the long hallway blind to the end: "Because something is happening here but you don't know what it is, do you, Mr. Jones?" [0]

Jonathan Bradley: A ghost of John Lennon summoned via digital séance, it hovers insubstantially in gloopy piano ectoplasm, bereft of melody, direction, purpose. [3]

Brad Shoup: As a band that famously lived and created in the moment, the Beatles rarely had the sense of an ending. They were as fond of bits as statements, so they chased their two most renowned album closers with, respectively, pureed studio nonsense and a joke ditty about QEII. Though I'd take "Her Majesty" over "Get Back" any day, Let It Be (released after but mostly recorded before Abbey Road) became the final word on studio Beatles. The Anthology project offered a couple dreamy, slight psych-pop tunes that -- because they were based on compositions from a dead Beatle at his most placid -- couldn't be anything other than valedictory. In the years since we've had reductive Beatles and recombinant Beatles, and now, finally, maybe, retiring Beatles. "Now and Then" is as joyless as I've ever heard them. Not tired or dutiful, but lost: there's no trace of the bantering lads re-introduced in the Peter Jackson documentary. At their best, the Fabs felt like they were playing for each other as much as the world. Down two Beatles now, and again working off a John composition, they can only sound like they're playing to each other. The mix is as blue-gray as the cover art: little vocal homages to their past are buried in the churn. The string arrangement is ghastly. Paul's slide-guitar tribute to George -- in itself pretty funny, considering Paul's famous scene commandeering George's playing in the Let It Be film -- ends up in "Scar Tissue" territory. But even though I don't like this song, John's melody has stuck with me for a month now. By all accounts, it sounds like it's stuck with Paul (who knows from indelible melodies) for decades. There's something in its hesitancy, its uncertainty, in the way that it carries all this naked need to the door without knowing what's on the other side. My mom died -- suddenly, unexpectedly -- in January, so I've spent a lot of fucking time trying to get the sense of an ending. I've hung out with my father more this year than the last five put together, which means I've been talking about the Beatles more than usual. He doesn't care for "Now and Then": it's too sodden for him, too maudlin. I think he would feel that way regardless. But I understand Paul and Ringo's desire to summon their beloved John, to sing him back here and home again. And I understand why, when I play this, I mostly hear pain. [5]

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#the beatles #beatles #music #pop music #music writing #music reviews #the singles jukebox #music criticism #Youtube

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wanderingandfound · 1 year

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This could be a better post and maybe I will come back to these ideas later but like..... I’m tired of reviews judging television and film adaptations by like,,,, what will make the fans of it the original happy. Like,,,,, I actually am interested in if an adaptation captures the spirit of the original. I don’t think an adaption has to, but I’d love to read criticism from that angle.

But man, like a video game journalist retweeted onto my timeline a review of the Mario movie where most of the [negative] criticism was “there’s very little in here for the people who grew up on these games” with only a few side-sentences on lackluster emotional payoffs and sparse character arcs. Basically the review was more concerned about adults who grew up with the games (not all of us adults!) then whether or not the movie was a good movie.

And then within two days, from the other side of shallow criticism, I was reading a review from a library perspective about both the Mario and the D&D movies that spent most of the time glowing about them not because of any strengths in the movies, but because they were considered “”successful”” adaptations over these franchises’ previous cinematic adaptations.

Meanwhile I haven’t watched the show or play the games or read any longform criticism of The Last Of Us, but from my Twitter timeline my understanding is that the games were very cinematic games, and the television show has been replicating it shot for shot. And some fans like that, but some people I follow and myself are like “Why though? What’s the point?” Especially in this age of let’s plays where not being able or interested in playing a game is no longer a barrier for experiencing the game.

And I’m also thinking about how like, even as I revisit Phase 1 and Phase 2 of the MCU as I return to this fanfic from 2016, I haven’t actually seen any of the adaptations of the Marvel comics I was reading at the same time as I was genuinely excited by the MCU: Peter Parker’s Spider-Man, Kamala Khan’s Ms. Marvel, Kate Bishop and Clint Barton and Lucky the dog Hawkeye comic, Young Avengers (which doesn’t yet have an MCU adaption but we have Kate and Cassie and Eli and Billy and Teddy and Vision 1.0 is dead). And I don’t have an interest in watching these adaptations, except for maybe the Ms. Marvel one. I haven’t seen anything that tempts me as I currently am, nor that tempts the teenager who loved those comics who still lives inside me.

And like I said at the top, I don’t think an adaptation needs to be exactly the same. I like both Howl’s Moving Castle the book and the film. I don’t think that the Ella Enchanted movie is a good one, but I enjoy seeing Anne Hathaway singing and being feisty and a talking book that is essentially the fantasy equivalent of an AI. Maybe a reread of the satire book The Princess Bride would feel tiring at the moment, when we live in an era full of snark where genre isn’t allowed to be sincere, but in my heart the somewhat mean-spirited book means just as much to be as the sincerely committed movie.

And then there’s now. When I think of the Good Omens show adaption, just the show not the fandom, the only thing that really comes to mind is the frustration that they didn’t update Anathema’s conspiracy theory magazines to contemporary ones, which I feel completely changes her character to one who is both more out of touch and less concerned with the current threats to humans and the environments.

I dunno what my point was. And wow, typing on a computer can go so much faster than typing on my phone. But I’m just tired. I want good shows and good movies that stand on their own. I am so sad that The Bastard Son & The Devil Himself got cancelled, and I have not read the books it was based on (and also feel like the books aren’t going to give me what I want).

I want adaptations to have a point. I want them to be well-crafted. I don’t want them churned out for name recognition. I don’t want them being written to make old fans happy! And I also don’t want the only things of interest for those old fans to be counting easter eggs in the background, even while I think easter eggs can be neat!

#personal #liveblogging stories #adaptations

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ukiyokki · 3 years

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mars reads too much dreamnotfound fanfiction for their own good

a dreamnotfound fanfic recommendation list by your resident dumbass (me)

this took way to fucking long... i’m tired

below is a (very extensive) list dedicated to all my favorite dnf fics, ranging from quick one shots to 100k+ word monstrosities that devour the storage on my computer, forever incomplete masterpieces to ongoing works of art, you get the idea. i provided links for each fic/series for your reading pleasure. there will be no smutty/nsfw fics on this list, that’s just not my vibe lmao. this list goes in no particular order, and i’ll update it from time to time when i feel like it. now, without further ado, let us begin.

Heat Waves (complete) by tbhyourelame

(wtf else did you expect, looking at a dnf rec list?) amazingly well written, and while it’s not my favorite dnf fic it’s damn near close. in the midst of a brutal heatwave, a suffering dream comes to terms with the fact that he is desperately in love with his best friend. everything i could say about this fic has already been said by nearly everyone who’s read it, so if you haven’t yet caved into the hype, just go for it. you won’t be disappointed.

Gonna be around (completed) by georgescatcafe

(mc irl) my favorite dnf oneshot to date. just read it, i don’t wanna spoil for you :)

Inferno in the Sky (ongoing)by zairielon

(star wars au) an ongoing star wars au currently clocking in at almost 200k words. need I say more? everything about it absolutely slaps, each chapter is amazingly written, and it’s just good. also, can we just appreciate dream and tubbos dynamic in here? 10/10, amazing, must protecc. oh right, a summary: george, an exiled padawan turned engineer, must return to the jedi temple after attacks on it from an unknown assailant threaten the safety of himself and the other jedi.

Like Magic (ongoing) by KangarooKen, NotGra55 (Gra55)

(harry potter au) the unofficial official dnf harry potter au. we watch the young unlikely wizard pair grow up together throughout their years at hogwarts as they battle good old fashioned wizard racism. beautifully written, incredibly fun and suspenseful, and just an overall blast and a half.

GeorgeNotFound, Son of Poseidon, and the League of Minor Gods (ongoing) by Clichewho_69, Cygnvs, Trash_Kinggg

(percy jackson au) percy jackson au? check. “road trip” (technically quest but u get what i mean)? check. enemies to friends to lovers? check. this fic follows the plot of the lightning theif (albeit loosely), but everything is explained enough where you don’t have to read percy jackson to understand what’s going on. basically after moving to the usa, george gets taken to camp halfblood where he learns that a) gods exist. b) he’s the son of poseidon and c) he needs to prove that he didn’t steal zeus’s master bolt.

Protected (completed) by aenqua

(royalty/camelot au) my favorite piece of dnf media of all time. dubbed the official dnf camelot au, where dream is the heir to the throne and george is a servants son with a secret that couldp get him killed. these childhood friends grow up together and learn trust, love, and acceptance. (that summary did not justice to the masterpiece that is this fic) here’s the directors cut

The Hunter (completed) by HederEgo

(mc irl) a choose your own adventure fic with 13 different endings, where dream the hunter must kill george and stop him from beater the ender dragon. enough said.

The official dream team cowboy AU (series)(ongoing) by antsu_in_my_pantsu

(cowboy au) cowboys and outlaws horses and shit. and the big gay. it’s a cowboy au, what else did you expect? fucking yee haw (all seriousness this is a great read, i loved it so so so so much and i can’t wait for the final chapter to release).

This is a Drista moment, let's just accept it (completed) by Qekyo

dnf fic from drista pov. considering its unique perspective, it’s perfectly done. beautifully showcases a sibling relationship through drista and her memories/moments with dream, and it just works, y’a know? also drista supremacy.

Dear Dream (completed) by Qekyo

(wwii au) i don’t cry when watching/reading anything sad. translation: i’m a heartless bitch. however, this fic is the only exception. it caused me to cry so hard my mom walked in my room and asked if i was ok. ‘nuff said.

TECHNOlogical Wingman (completed) by Closeted_Bookworm

techno is the autocorrect ai on dreams phone, and he gains sentience. interesting concept, and the author fucking nailed it. great fic.

It Was Only a Fic (ongoing) by imagineitdear

dream starts reading a dnf fanfic (we’ve all been there buddy).

Teacher’s Pet (ongoing) by niyuha

(teacher au) in which dream is a high school english teacher and george is the new comp sci teacher in room 297.

Saltwater Secrets (ongoing) by earlgay_milktea

(mermaid/high school au) a great example of the shear amount of variety in fics this fandom has to offer. when i started reading dnf fics i would have never thought i’d find one about a mermaid george hopelessly crushing on his human friend, who happens to be his schools star swimmer. yet here i am, and i am far from disappointed.

Smash My Heart (incomplete) by dontrollthedice

george and sapnap are commentators for duper smash brothers tournaments, and george develops a crush on an up and coming smash streamer named dream.

roleplaying in the dark is harder than it seems (completed) by Alienu

laser tag. 10/10

solar system (completed) by quartzfia

(mc irl) george vists dream in pandora’s vault.

Ramblings of a Lunatic (completed) by jungkooksfic

ahh communicating through a notebook left on a shelf in a bookstore- what a perfect way to start a relationship.

Paint me like your French Girls (It's Charcoal, Actually) (completed) by Turtle_ier

(artist au) george is an art student, and dream is a model.

00:00:00 (completed) by isleofdreams

(soulmate au) 00:00:00 is the moment you meet your soulmate, as indicated but the clock ticking down on your wrist until the moment you meet. i’m not a fan of soulmate aus; this fic is the exception.

Blue Skies Smilin' At Me (completed) by kivy

(artist au) i don’t usually cry while reading stuff, but this brought me damn near close. george is a painting conservator and chats it is with the ghost of the artist if the painting he is working on. they fall in a love.

Current Location (incomplete) by hendollana

(influencer au) george simps for a hot american instagram model. who knew he’d actually follow back?

The Withering (series) (series ongoing, 1 work completed) by App1e_Juice

(mc irl) lore and world building and fight scenes and everything i crave. what’s not to love? something starts making the plants and crops around dreams village wither, and must team up with new friends to find the cause of the mysterious disease plaguing the land.

Minecraft, But You Can't Leave (complete) by facadecake

(mc irl) dream and george are sucked into their own private minecraft world together and must beat the game to escape.

Free The Game, Beat the End (incomplete) by goatgoatwasfound

(mc irl) a glitch in minecraft causes thousands of players from around the world to be trapped inside minecraft, with only one way of escape- beating the ender dragon. first dnf fic i ever read, and it’s still 10/10 for me.

Why don't you come a little closer? (completed) by lifeofandoms

george gets stood up by a date, and Dream pretends he’s the date to save george from the embarrassment. simply adorable.

lightning bug (completed) by saintachesP

(band au) while on tour, dream realizes his feeling for george.

Hold me closer (completed) by Treesofmyheart

(mc irl/dsmp) i just,, really like this trope.

Dizzy on caffeine (completed) by GleamingGreenGoggles

(coffee shop au) best dnf coffeeshop au i’ve read. periodt.

living a life of crime isn’t always easy (series) (completed) by itisjosh

(mafia/assassin au) stockholm syndrome except it’s not weird.

Inhibitions Make Interesting Situations (completed) by Ship_On_The_Sea

i pissed myself laughing. it’s just a dream and george being hilariously dense, flustered idiots. serotonin central.

thy eternal summer shall not fade (completed) by gracequills

(high school au) that moment when you recite shakespeare to your crush in your ap lit class instead of confessing (hate it when that happens).

All is Fair in love and Football (ongoing) by graciegirl2001

(college au) #1 favorite college au. in which george is a cheerleader, and dream is the football teams rising star player. this one gets extra points because of the amazing karlnap moments sprinkled throughout. *chefs kisses air*

online love (completed) by andbutso

(high school au) online classes go zoooooooom

Can’t help falling (completed) by isleofdreams

dream re-learns the guitar to sing to george on his birthday. beautiful. fluffy. amazing

dance in the rain and my arms (completed) by lazy_kitkat

george is a rain god, and dream is a wind god

Weather Boy (completed) by DaintyDiizzle

wouldn't you like to know, weather boy? (where dream can control the rain)

The color orange (completed) by anon

(mc irl) dream describes the colors of a sunset

Family Mode (completed)by Strawberry_flavoured_tears

they’re dads :,)

Breathing Room (incomplete) by papercranes

(band an) an amazing band au. the mad lad author wrote original songs for each chapter. above and beyond, mad props :). unfortunately, it’s incomplete

Piece of Clay (completed) by carbonbrine

(artist au) george is a sculptor and his sculpture comes to life- but oh no he’s hot.

Try (completed) by Not4typicalwriter

(royalty au) george must choose a suitor, but none of them are up to dream, his head knights, standards. or dream is hella jelly. also protective dream is perfect

When the Roses Bloom (completed) by HederEgo

(royalty au) close second for my favorite fic. go to royalty au for a quick serotonin bost. it’s all fluff and flowers and crushes, and i love it. criminally underrated.

Heavenstruck (ongoing) by dontrollthedice

george is dreams guardian angel, and dream want to find out more about him and his past life. bittersweet :,)

Bang and Burn (completed) by App1e_Juice

(spy au) george accidentally falls for target number 1 on sapnap’s secret agency’s hit list. this ones great, i love me a spy au :)

Can I get a uhh… (completed) by lemonskies

dream keeps pulling up to the drive through mcdonald’s that george works at drunk.

Pretty Stranger (completed) by anon

when looking for dream in the terminal, george sees a cute guy and decides to flirt.

Take my Hand (completed) by latinbias

(royalty au) another royalty au? poggers. surprise twists? double poggers. love this a lot.

seconds, minutes, hours, lifetimes (complete) by meridies

ROAD TRIP ROAD TRIP ROAD TRIP ROAD TRIP *inhales to compose herself* roadtrip au. unrequited love, ignored feelings, longing, pining, you know the drill. absolutely love this one, its the best roadtrip au i have ever read, in any fandom. (maybe cause i identify with it a little too much, but thats not important. whats important is that you read this fic. right now. im waiting).

Message redacted (complete) by justyouraverageloser

(text fic) dream asks for a girls number and realises hes been given the wrong number. however, an unexpected relationship starts to form between him and the stranger on the other end of the line.

the waves (completed) by anon

(mc irl) this fic was written by the same anon who wrote the color orange, which is up there on my fav dnf oneshot list. dream and george know they have a higher purpose. they don’t know where they came from, or why they are seemingly the only humans in the world, or how they feel about eachother, or even where the skeletons come from, but they are sure of one thing: they have to beat a dragon.

The Dream Doll (completed) by PeppDream (Pep_Pizza)

(voodoo i guess) i’m a real big fan of fics with really out there or unique concepts, so naturally this one makes the cut! i really liked it, it’s really sweet and made me think a lot about what matters to me in the world. george finds a strange doll in an antique shop, and would really like to just stuff it in a drawer and forget about it. sadly (?), the doll has other plans.

last updated February 6th, 2021

#dnf #dreamnotfound #dream not found #dreamnotfound fic #dreamnotfound fanfic #dreamnotfound fanfiction #dnf fic #dnf fanfic #dnf fanfiction #dnf fic rec #dreamnotfound fanfiction recommendations #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #i’m ok i swear #i read too much fanfiction #i should probably go to bed

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your-brilliant-lady-m · 3 years

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Part 4 - Basic Concepts of Miraculous Ladybug: Glamour

You can call it however you want: kid's show logic, superhero disguise logic, magical girl show logic, cartoon laws, suspension of disbelief, etc. But the fact that nobody recognises Marinette, Adrien and others when they are suited up IS NOT BAD WRITING. It's one of the main laws of this genre. That's not because characters are stupid, okay? So, being frustrated that everyone in the show acts stupid about this "wearing a mask that covers only eyes" trope is strange. This criticism is not valid or fair.

But, this trope has to make sense in-universe as a worldbuilding and narrative element.

Miraculous doesn't give us much direct information on how glamour works. And in this case, I think we need both SHOW and TELL. Because if you don't establish the glamour rules clearly, you are going to run into problems and create unfortunate implications with your storytelling choices.

Appearance

Miraculous obviously gives our heroes magical glamour. In "Lady WiFi" we find out that masks can't be taken off. It's magic. No other explanation is needed.

Miraculous can slightly change the appearance of users (eyes, face shape, height and hairstyles). People can identify and notice the hairstyles of heroes (numerous Ladybug wigs, statue in Copycat). Jagged Stone points out the change of hair when he mistakes Chloe for Ladybug ("Antibug"). But it's just a costume. There is no magic that prevents Jagged from understanding that Chloe isn't Ladybug. So, how does it work? But it's forgivable because it's cartoon logic. Suspension of disbelief works here, I suppose. I won't judge this too harshly.

Glamour also obviously prevents people from making a connection that Marinette and Ladybug have identical hairstyles. So people know that Ladybug wears her hair in pigtails, but magic does not allow them to notice similarities.

Another important question. Does glamour work on Kwamis? Can they see who is behind the mask?

New York Special makes it clear that magic does not affect robots and they can see through glamour. Does that mean that Markov, AI built by Max, knows the identities of Ladybug and Chat Noir? And it's never addressed.

Plagg in "Frightningale" says that holders can subconsciously choose their superhero appearance. This is actually pretty interesting and I like this idea a lot. Except the show is not consistent with this. The transformation of Master Fu looks identical to Nathalie's. And we have seen how different from each other Ladybug and Black Cat holders looked in the past. At the same time, Master Fu and Nino have different takes on Turtle superhero suit.

Age Glamour

Does age glamour exist? Do people see Ladybug, Chat Noir and other heroes as adults even when they look like teenagers to the audience (their height and build are smaller even when they are transformed)? Is that why no one ever questions the fact that children nearly die on a daily basis?

I mentioned unfortunate implications earlier. Well, this is where they come into play. Let's talk about "Copycat". A lot of people discussed it before me, so I won't bore you with details.

When I watched "Copycat" for the first time Theo's crush on Ladybug didn't bother me, because I thought that he sees Ladybug as his peer, a girl who is about 20-23 years old. Theo is an artist, his character design is that of an adult. He has his own studio, its appearance indicates that he did serious commissions in the past. The guy has no idea that Ladybug is like 13.

But then we get "Heroes' Day" and "Ladybug". And Hawkmoth calls them "kids", which means that there is no age glamour. Others see Ladybug and Chat Noir as teenagers. Perhaps, other Miraculous users aren't affected by age glamour. Therefore regular people see all heroes as adults but other heroes are able to guess their age more or less correctly. But you must spell this thing out because the audience can interpret "Copycat" differently. If there is no age glamour, then Theo is crushing on a teenage girl and he is fully aware of this fact. And this doesn't look good for your show.

The "No Age Glamour" theory is further confirmed in "Sapotis" where Alya just straight up analyses voice recordings and says that Ladybug is a girl their age. If glamour exists then it should also cover technology. Kwami can't be photographed. Face and voice recognition software shouldn't be able to analyse transformed superheroes and detect their identities in any way.

Besides, after "Sapotis" Alya should definitely be sure that Ladybug is not 5000 years old (also not an adult), especially after she wore Miraculous herself and was one door away from detransformed Ladybug.

SEASON 4 UPDATE! There's no age glamour after all.

In "Furious Fu" Su Han calls Chat Noir a child without knowing his identity. It means that everyone knows their superheroes are teenagers. "Copycat" can't be saved from that, uh, subtext anymore. No one questions the danger of their job or the balance of their lives outside of the mask. No one doubts their competence after "Origins" ever again. No one becomes annoyed after being bossed around by two teenagers in spandex. You had many opportunities to drop these details into the narrative. Someone could have been akumatized over this (I will not be ordered around by some magical kids!).

I don't know why writers decided not to use at least this idea and slightly adjust "Copycat" if they got rid of the age glamour completely. It can be explained as kid's show logic, but unfortunately, I'm reluctant to do it. If many characters sympathise with akuma victims on-screen, why not with the teenage superheroes who must fight them?

New York Special had this weird focus on collateral damage out of nowhere (the damage done by sentimonster Robostus) and yet it has 0 effect on the main story. No one in Paris is pissed that their 2 teenage protectors weren't there.

Ironically, "Furious Fu" and that one remark made by Su Han also created unfortunate implications for other moments in the show. Just hear me out. Apparently, Jagged Stone wrote a "thank you" song for Ladybug knowing that she is 13-15 year old child back in "Pixelator". Fandom is more than happy to roast Lila for lying about saving Jagged Stone's cat and him writing her a "thank you" song. Fandom claims that Lila's tale could harm Jagged's reputation, when he wrote a song for teenage Ladybug several weeks prior. Meanwhile, in-universe this lie is 100% believable.

If we put on "realism glasses", then both this whole song situation and Theo's crush in "Copycat" have uncomfortable implications. However, the show's canon can't be viewed and criticised through "realism glasses". I admit that bits and pieces of my criticisms are affected by these "glasses", but, ultimately, I'm trying to be fair and concentrate only on things that can't be justified by "cartoon logic and worldbuilding".

Could the existence of age glamour solve this problem of unfortunate implications and other concerns mentioned above? YES. Is it better for the narrative? YES. Is essential for the story? NOT QUITE. Could the absence of age glamour be called an irredeemable storytelling flaw? NO.

Disclaimer: On a side note, only older audience can notice these implications. Children, the target audience, most likely won't understand this subtext simply because they don't have enough experience. So, perhaps, this criticism is unfair, because these moments only look weird to me as an adult. It's like an adult joke in a cartoon that you don't get until you reach a certain age.

There's nothing technically wrong with adult writing a "thank you" song for a teenager. It's just an expression of gratitude. However, unfortunately, we live in a world, where adults normally wouldn't write songs for teens to express gratitude only. In real life similar actions would imply pedophilia and would be actively scorned by the public. No one would risk their reputation like that even if their intentions were genuinely pure and sincere. But this show can't be viewed through "realism glasses", because it's a cartoon and in certain cases we as the audience must use suspension of disbelief and pretend that certain things are possible for plot to happen.

Su Han also wants to give Ladybug and Black Cat to adults. Why didn't Master Fu do this then? Writers don't give us any explanation. Throughout the show we never question this up until the moment it's revealed that adults don't have time-limited powers. Then comes "Furious Fu". Story suddenly becomes self-aware here. Because apparently nothing prevented Fu from giving the most powerful Miraculous to adults who won't have time limit and will be more effective against Hawkmoth (see part 3 for more details).

I have a very good example of Age Glamour done right. It works in the story. There is no confusion or unfortunate implications. There is like one plothole connected to the glamour (it's been years and I still can't forgive them for Cornelia and Caleb) but otherwise, it's a pretty solid example of both show and tell. Clearly, writers wanted to avoid uncomfortable implications which are present in "Copycat". I am talking about W.I.T.C.H. comic books and animated series.

If you are not familiar with it, I'll give you a brief explanation. The story follows 5 girls, the Guardians of Kandrakar who are chosen to protect their world and parallel ones from evil. They receive magical powers from the amulet known as the Heart of Kandrakar. Their powers are based on elements: fire, water, earth, air and energy. Our main characters are about 13-15 years old. In the animated series they are younger and they attend middle school, making them 12-14 years old. But the transformation makes them look 18-20. They look like young women to each other and to other people. At the same time, people can recognise them, their looks and voice don't change. Most people don't know that they are really teenagers when they are not transformed and these people don't know that magic can make them look older. That's why everyone treats Guardians like adults when they are transformed. Comics establish this fact in the very beginning. In first issues characters state that they look older, we are also shown this multiple times.

In fact, one of the first side plots revolves around the fact that Irma uses her powers to sneak into the disco club to meet up with her crush. Irma is 13 at the beginning of the series, she is a high school freshman. Her crush, Andrew Hornby is a senior guy 17-18 years old. Irma has liked him for a long time and wants to impress him, so she decides to be clever about this. She transforms into her Guardian form of the 18-year-old girl, hides her wings, sneaks out to the club after her parents are asleep without any problem, and meets Andrew, who obviously doesn't recognise Irma in this girl who looks about his age. Smitten Andrew offers her a ride and 13-year-old Irma doesn't understand the implication of that offer, so she accepts. And, obviously, he decides that she is interested in more than just a ride home, since she agreed, and the comic implies that he fully intended for them to have sex in the backseat of his car. But Irma understands the implication only when Andrew tries to kiss her. She panics and turns him into a frog. And she actually pulls this "I need to look mature" trick more than once over the course of the series.

It's not the only situation where this age difference is handled well and makes sense. People who know the main characters in everyday life remark on their older appearance during transformation. Sometimes people flirt with Guardians when they are transformed. In one of the side-novels centred around Cornelia, she is worried that the prince of the realm they helped to save from famine would try to marry her. That never happens, but Cornelia actually brainstorms with her friends about how to tell the prince that she is really 15.

There are many other plot points where this happens, but I think that you got the idea. I really like how "Age Glamour" was handled in W.I.T.C.H.

How do we fix this? Create the situations where people offhandedly mention "Age Glamour" in the presence of Marinette or Adrien, use Kwami for this.

"Don't worry, dear. Chat Noir and Ladybug are adults, who know what they are doing. I am sure that they will handle this. "

Theo could say: "Oh, I wonder which university Ladybug goes to?"

"So, does that mean that other people see us as grown-ups, Tikki?"

A few words and boom, problem solved. Then allow the "show don't tell" rule do the rest.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #miraculous analysis #miraculous meta #ml meta #ml analysis #miraculous transformations #miraculous critical #miraculous ladybug critical #miraculous glamour #superhero glamour #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir

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forkanna · 3 years

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[AO3] [WATTPAD]

NOTE: The beginning of this chapter hits a little harder than it did when I wrote it, because my own grandparent is in ill health of late. That's partially what's been complicating my life. I promise I will post fanfics other than this one very soon - including a certain one a certain fandom has been clamoring for.

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"Grandma? What do you do when you feel like life is over?"

The elderly proprietor of Marukyu smiled, even if she didn't turn away from the stove. Rise tried not to think too hard about all the new wrinkles that were forming around the corners of her eyes, how much slower she walked than she did before Rise took off for fame and fortune. Those thoughts didn't bring any joy to anyone. Might as well focus on the positives.

"What on Earth are you talking about, Ri-chan? You are still so young. You have many years ahead of you, you should not be thinking about such things yet."

"I… can't help it." She tried to turn her thoughts aside from actual mortality and toward her situation with her classmate. "A friend I really like is fighting with me, and I don't know what to do. I think- no, I know I hurt her feelings on accident. But she's really hurt and she thinks I did it on purpose."

"Hm? What could you have done, dear mago? You are so young, I'm sure it was nothing."

What could she say? How was she supposed to tell her kindly old grandmother that she might not be entirely straight, her friend might not be entirely female, and their relationship might not be entirely platonic? The woman was very traditional, even if she very rarely had an unkind word to say about anyone.

"I told a secret to a friend. Another friend, I mean. And I thought I could trust her with it, but I know now I shouldn't have told her at all… because the whole school found out, and the first friend is embarrassed."

Her grandmother laughed as she lifted a block of silken tofu from the box in which it had been setting, placing it on the counter to be cut into smaller pieces. Rise fell to work right away, since this was her job at the moment as sous-chef. "Ri-chan, it is not something to worry about, I can assure you. These things happen. But if you don't talk to your friend, don't try to work things out, you will regret it later in life. I promise you that, as well."

That, she could absolutely believe. "Yeah. She's just so angry, I don't know what to say to her. Is there anything I can say? Or should I just keep letting her know I want to talk and let her be the one to come to me? I don't know what to do!"

"Ahhhhh, yes, I can understand your concern there. It is like… playing go." They both chuckled, because the raw soybean liquid she was now straining to make the milk base for tofu was also pronounced "go", even though she was referring to the board game. "You are worried what every move you make will be the wrong one. To give up too much territory would be a costly mistake. But to do nothing is the worst move of them all. Then you will have not played, and you have already lost."

"But I…" That was hard to argue with. If she didn't lift a finger at all, she would lose Ai. Sure, if she risked it all she could still lose her, but they were better odds than giving up now. "Y-yeah. Thanks, Grandma."

"Of course. And I know, it must sound silly from an old lady like me, saying your troubles are so small. I know to you, they seem like mountains. But looking back from the mountain I stand on now, they were the foothills. You'll see someday."

Slumping, she set the knife down now that the tofu had been sliced into portions. "If I live that long…"

"RISE!" Suddenly she was being whacked with a spoon, and she ducked and covered her head. "Don't talk like that! You will have a long and healthy life, or I will send you right back to this world to try again! Do you understand?"

"Yes, Grandma," she said with a little bow. Even though she was smiling. So what if her parents were idiots? She had family; she wasn't alone. Sometimes life gives you exactly what you need — no more, no less.

~ o ~

However, what Rise had not been given was a plan of attack. And the longer she tried to think about it, tried to come up with something to put into play the next day, the more she continued to come up blank. So she decided to focus on practicing her vocals. The exercises were second nature by now, but she was still so rusty after only occasionally singing over the past year. Getting back into the game meant all parts of it, not just the "fun" ones.

Nothing happened the next day at school. Literally nothing. She did try to seek out Ai a few times, just in case they could smooth over the unpleasantness after she had her single petty act of revenge. Maybe that was it. Maybe they could be friends again, if she apologised… but Ai was either skipping, or very artfully avoiding her at all turns. She never saw her once, and she wasn't even responding to her texts or voicemails. Ghosted.

That evening, after dinnertime, she came calling around the Ebihara residence. But the woman who answered told her they weren't receiving guests. Probably a maid, but it also could have been a secretary of some sort. It definitely wasn't Ai's mother…

Thursday seemed like it would be much the same as the last. Unfortunately, an incident toward the end of the day interrupted an otherwise dull existence. Rise had been hoping for something like that — until it happened, and made her eat her wish.

"Attention, please!" called Noriko Kashiwagi in her throaty purr, crossing her arms to prop up her breasts and put them even more on display. Rise had long ago become desensitised to her teacher's little inappropriate displays, but that didn't mean she wasn't far more comfortable in Ms. Sofue's classroom, despite her Egyptian headdress. At least she didn't behave as if she were auditioning for a porno. "Mmm, yes, all eyes on me, class! All eyes on me!"

"Ugh," Kanji muttered from behind her. "No thanks, old bag." Rise tried not to snort.

"That's better. Now… would anyone care to explain this?"

She held up a manilla folder. An empty manilla folder. One of the girls in the front row raised her hand, and the teacher pointed to her. "Is… it's a folder, right?"

"It is. And there was supposed to be something in there. Would anyone care to guess what?" Dead silence. "The answers to yesterday's quiz. But it seems they walked off. Now, if some young, strapping boy would like to come forward and… reveal himself, maybe a little detention with me can straighten him right up."

While she was chuckling in way too flirtatious a tone than was appropriate, making most of the class wonder if they should be reporting her, Rise was glancing around the room, trying to see if she could spot the perpetrator. Not that she knew what to look for exactly; Naoto would have been the one with that skill set, and she wasn't in that class. But she couldn't help idly speculating anyway.

"No one? Very well. I will give you until the end of this class, or you will all be serving detention if the culprit doesn't come forward." When the predictable grumbling broke out, she raised her voice a little to say, "But! Confess your sins, and I may be more lenient! Now take out your books, we must get started."

"Shit," Kanji grumbled under his breath as the students rushed to obey. None of them were coming forward, but none of them wanted to get in trouble for something else either. "That gross old lady is gonna find some way to pin this on one of us. I just know it."

"Would you relax?" Rise hissed under her breath, glancing back at him as she opened her book. "She probably just misplaced it while she was too busy thinking about new ways to make the boys in her class feel uncomfor-huh?"

She cut off when she felt a page slide over her fingers in a way that wasn't natural. Looking down, she saw a piece of paper fluttering to the floor. Did somebody toss it onto her desk? No, it was much more likely it had been tucked in the pages of her book and fallen out when she opened it. Brow furrowing, she stooped to pick it up.

And her heart stopped. It didn't take her more than a couple of seconds to figure out what she was looking at.

"What's that?" asked one of the boys. She had barely looked up at him when everybody else was craning their neck, trying to see. Instinctively, she drew away, even though she would later regret doing so.

"Miss Kujikawa, do you have something you care to share with the class?"

"Oh. Well… yes, Miss Kashiwagi, this fell out of my textbook."

The woman slunk through the classroom toward her. Really, she started to think she ought to get a phone set up somewhere to grab video of the audacity of this cougar! She snatched the page out of her hand, stared at it… and her eyebrows shot up.

"This is it. The answer key." A ripple of gasps spread throughout the room, followed by hushed whispering. "Oh… but why would you need this, Kujikawa? Your grades have been consistently splendid."

"I… I didn't take it, I promise! It was just there already — I've never seen that before in my life!"

Noriko shook her head and tsked. "My, my, such acting skills. Not that I'm surprised, Risette. I would say that you must have been stealing the answers all along and that's why your grades are so high, but… this is the first time an answer key has gone missing."

"Miss Kashiwagi," Kanji put in suddenly, "come on, that's crap." Rise saw the teacher flinch at his disrespectful coarseness, and was thankful he pushed ahead immediately afterward. "Why the hell would she put that somewhere as stupid as her book if she was trying to cheat? Nobody's that dumb."

"Or careless," the teacher agreed with a long sigh, staring down at the page thoughtfully. For a long few seconds that had Rise's stomach twisting into knots. "Kujikawa, I'll supervise while you retake the test after school. If you score an above average grade on it, no cheating, I will choose to believe this somehow found its way into your book by mistake and we will forget the whole thing. But I had better not see you pull anything like this again, understand?"

The pop idol deflated somewhat. She had really been hoping the teacher would just believe her outright, and she wasn't thrilled at the idea of having to retake a test for no good reason. But all she said aloud was, "Yes, sensei."

"Mm. Now, if any of you choose to admit to a little prank on Kujikawa, you can raise your hand now, or see me after class. Where I can punish you suitably."

If only she didn't add that sinister chuckle as she walked back to her desk, hips swaying too much to be accidental…

"What the hell?" Kanji hissed to her as the teacher began to give their lesson for the day in earnest. "You didn't do it, right?"

"No, I didn't."

"Then how'd that thing get into your book? It was in your bag before you even walked into class."

Jaw setting as she stared through the blackboard, Rise growled, "Oh… I have a pretty good idea."

~ o ~

This time, Ai was lying in wait like a supervillain in her lair — even if it was just on the roof. Rise was already shaking her head and clapping as she walked up to her.

"Thank you, thank you." She even took a little bow before raising up to smirk devilishly at her. "And I'm sure you're pissed but trying to put on that brave face."

"You think this is tatemae? No, no. You're getting the real Rise, live and in colour."

"Sure, okay, whatever. But you must be here because of my little gift."

Rise leaned her elbows against the ledge, staring out over Inaba through the fence. Just sighing and thinking. Ai regarded her warily; she could see as much out of the corner of her eye. But she didn't say anything further as she waited for the response.

"It didn't feel good."

"That's it?" she snorted. "Wow."

"It didn't. Because you were my friend, and I miss you, and… I don't want to fight. Doesn't matter, though; I know I really messed up, and you're mad. And I can't change that; maybe… I can't ever change it. But does it have to go down like this? Really?"

Ai's tone wasn't as jovial now. She was still ice cold, not betraying any pain or rage. "Yes."

"Fine. But now it's my turn to let you know something."

"And what might that be? Please, Risette, bless me with your tiny little thoughts."

Rise spun to glare at her. "Oh, there it is. You think I'm small-minded, huh? Because I didn't know how to handle this from the beginning. Well I guess I was. But don't you think this is a pretty childish way to react? Trying to embarrass me, get me kicked out of school?"

"You mean the way you almost got me kicked out of school? Which could still happen, you know; I fooled them once, but what if I slip up? Or you slip up again? Could still come crashing down around me. I'm used to shitty rumours circulating about me, y'know; these rumours are just new and unwelcome because they could mean the end of life as I know it. Hell, you could still just out me again more publicly, and then I'd be royally fucked. But I'm going to force your hand." She took a step closer, glowering down into her eyes. "I am going to push, and prod, and ruin, and unravel, until you either have to kick my ass, leave in defeat, or out me on purpose. You could do that, you know; it's always been on the table. But you really think you're a good person under all that fame and stardom and self-involvement."

Rise burst out laughing, biting as the sound was. "Whoa, whoa, amazing! You're sitting there, calling me vain again! YOU! I thought we already did this one."

Ai rolled her eyes. They were both drawn tight as bowstrings as they tried to navigate this situation, being so close to a person that had been everything in their eyes once. Rise knew she still felt that way. She only could guess whether or not her feelings remained requited, despite this feud.

"Fine. Then your days are numbered. I promise I'm going to be so happy when you're dragged off your pedestal, cutie."

"Sure," she snorted. "Because we both know that's not true."

"Oh, it's not?"

"No. You still love me." Even while Ai let out a blast of harsh laughter, Rise pushed ahead. "And I still love you. So you doing this to me? It's only going to be a bad look for one of us."

Ai's dark smile finally faded into a blank look. "I didn't think you would admit it. Wow, I really wrapped you around my finger, didn't I?"

Rise felt that. She saw the glimmer of hope, she knew she had to grasp it. But with Ai dead set on her current path, she didn't know how. So she simply whispered, "I will do whatever you want. Okay? Anything to make it up to you. I already would. But you have to act like I'm not a monster first, just… give me something to grab onto. Tell me how to be better."

Ai frowned, brow creasing the tiniest bit. She leaned closer, and Rise felt her heart leap into her throat — amazed this was going to happen, here, on the school roof where anyone could see them! Her eyes began to slide closed…

But before they were shut, she saw the smirk and her heart was already sinking. The writing was on the wall. Words weren't necessary; all they did was pour salt in the wound Ai had already ripped freshly open.

"You can't be better, because you can't be me."

Then she strutted confidently off toward the stairwell, leaving a bruised and battered survivor on the battlefield. Even if Rise wasn't the victor, nor had she died; it was something of an emotional break-even. But she would need a while to recover from the skirmish regardless. Anyone would have.

~ o ~

It took Rise until she was already walking home from school, a successful retake of a test she hadn't cheated on already under her belt, to realise the silver lining of all these events. The temptation to be so unbelievably furious with Ai was strong, as was the painful longing for release — to give up, to either forget about Ai forever or just retaliate to give her what she seemed to want. The idol didn't know what to do but she felt like doing nothing wasn't acceptable.

But eventually, as she was staring into the rippling water of the Fuefuki, it came to her. Clarity. The realisation that there was a flipside to just how ardently her former friend was pursuing this line of vengeance.

"Ohhh," she breathed softly with a slowly widening smile. Bittersweet though it was. "I get it. That's really sad… but I get it now."

Unfortunately, nobody was around to hear this revelation, so she didn't tell anyone. Not yet. That was something she could keep in her back pocket for a little while longer.

To Be Continued…

#we'll face ourselves #saphir de lune #forkanna writes #rise x ai #persona 4 fanfiction #p4 fanfic #jess the writer

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angelsunflowers-fanfics · 4 years

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Handsome Jack A.I. x Female!reader (Reuniting with an old lover)

Request: Heya! Are you taking requests? I was wondering if you could please do the “Every time I see you, my heart skips a beat” prompt with AI Jack from TFTB? Like he’s in Rhys’s head back on the Hyperion base and he sees his old girlfriend and he wants to use Rhys’s body for a bit to go talk to her/see her again. First-person point of view from AI Jack’s perspective and she/her pronouns for the reader. Thank you so much, I love your writing!

Fandom: Tales from the borderlands

Pov: Jack’s

Genre: Fluff

Linktree

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Everything felt fuzzy, like an old TV blaring white noise from its speakers. My form, my AI form, was still tangible and solid. So it must be from Rhys knocking his head out so much. He was gonna get some serious brain trauma if he kept that up.

Why couldn’t I be stuck in somebody else’s head? Anyone? I’d even take Rhys’ weirdly beefed up friend. Just anyone beside this dork. At the start of our little adventure, I found out that he was obsessed with me. And I mean, who could blame him? All I needed to do was find that machine and get my body back. It was still a prototype but I was out of options at this point.

Helios… it didn’t look that different from when I last left it but… it still felt different. Why did it feel different? I could worry about that later, or never. I hadn’t decided yet. The walls were still yellow, just how I liked it. People were bustling and rushing to their next task like busy bees. The view was fine, from up here you wouldn’t be able to tell that Pandora was a planet full of psychos and murders. It actually looked pretty okay.

“We gotta get to the center of Helios…” Rhys mumbled to himself.

Ugh… I’d kill to be stuck in (y/n)’s head…

Shit, (y/n)...

It had been a while since i’d thought of her. I wondered if she was still up here. For her safety, I hope she was.

I wondered how she was doing, We both lost Nisha and then a week later I was killed… I had no idea what toll that took on her. Luckily for her safety, I kept her identity and relationship to me and Nisha a secret. We all thought that was best… I hoped vault hunters didn’t find out about her. She was still young, she could find a future still. I wanted her to, even if I couldn’t because I was too power-hungry and blind to what was happening from my own hands.

I wanted to hold her in my arms, just one more time… To tell her that’s I was sorry and how much I loved h--

Oh my, god… it was her. (y/n) was in the library, why was she up so high just shelving books? I thought she was a technician for the weapons… What had happened since I’d been gone?

What had changed…? But (y/n); She looked the same like no time had passed. She looked beautiful but tired… I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around her…

God, I could feel my face heating up and my stomach was fluttering. I hadn’t felt this way about anybody else before in my life. It was a strange feeling.

It was kind of hypnotic just to watch her do something as mundane as putting books on shelves in a library. She could make anything look graceful.

“Jack, what are you doing?” Rhys startled me out of my thoughts. I jumped out of my skin as Rhys snoke up behind me. Crap, did he try to leave? I didn’t want to make (y/n) to well known but-- ”We kind of nee--”

I turned to stand in front of him, staring him down. I needed to speak to her, hear her voice again.

“Let me use your body,” I demanded him.

Rhys was unfazed by this point, he had been stuck with me for weeks, far too long in my opinion. At first, it was kind of interesting but he just wanted to be alone with his thoughts, as did I. I didn’t need him snooping around with me either.

Rhys slowly opened his mouth to ask why, I was sure, but I cut him off, already having an explanation thought through, “I want to talk to my lovely girlfriend for a bit and she can’t exactly hear me in this form.”

Rhys’ eyes creased in confusion, not too much of my personal life was ever leaked so I was sure that he had some questions that I didn’t have time for.

“I thought she--Nisha died… a while ago,” He murmured.

I rolled my eyes at the comment but gestured to the noticeable form on the ladder in the library.

“Me, Nisha and (y/n) We’re a throuple or we used to be at least,” I explained.

Rhys stared at me blankly, wait, was he judging me? No, that wasn’t happening! He was the last guys that should judge me about my personal life, I’d been rooting around his head for weeks, he had some weird stuff in there.

“Don’t judge me! (y/n) kept us in line when we went too far off the rails… We were chaotic and she was soft and patient,” I snapped.

God, I missed her. It didn’t feel like it had been long, but I was sure that it was for her. I couldn’t even imagine what it had been like for her, for my Honey-bunches.

Before Rhys could answer, not like he had many choices in the matter anyway, the large ladder began to topple and shake as a few employees brushed past it roughly. Oh no. As (y/n) started to fall from the high ladder, time slowed down. I had just enough time to take control over Rhys’ body and caught (y/n) in his noodle arms. Luckily, his arms didn’t give out because of my control. He’d pay for dropping (y/n), that was certain.

“Caught you again, Honey-bunches,” The mixing of my own voice with Rhys’ shocked her.

She looked up at Rhys wildly. That was good, she clearly heard my voice. There might be a little hope just yet. She quickly climbed out of Rhys’ arms and crossed her arms over her chest. Even mad she looked like a goddess. How?

“Only one person knows about that and he’s--” She stopped talking… God, her voice was so pretty. I almost forgot about it. Between her and Nisha, I was always flustered. (y/n) didn’t even have to try. “It’s impossible, right?” She sounded hopeful, I needed to keep that up. I didn’t want to see her upset. How long had it even been to her? (y/n) looked as if she was about to cry, it had to be at least a year, right?

“Nakitiyama, or whatever the hell his name was, put an a.i. of me or meat-bag Jack into his I.D. drive… Guess that's why I'm here now,” I explained to (y/n).

(y/n) wiped a few stray tears away from her face as she contemplated the situation clearly. Please believe me. I need you to. (Y/n) actually chuckled a bit at my choice of words. I always knew how to make her laugh.

“It's possible. I… Okay,” She trailed off.

I could see tears brimming, about to fall and there's nothing I could do to comfort her physically. I made Rhys reach a hand out to grab one of hers, this was the best I could do right now. She was almost glaring at the floor. What was she thinking about?

“Is… Is Nisha here too or…?” She asked.

I didn’t answer, it was too hard to think about. I was just grateful that (y/n) wasn’t killed while I wasn’t around. But by not answering, (y/n)’s eyes casted to me, a knowing look, like she already knew the answer to her own question.

I gripped her hand a tad touch tighter before speaking, “Every time I see you, my heart skips a beat.”

A sensation of pride swelled up in my chest seeing (y/n)’s face flare up with a blood rush because of my words. I was sure that it had been a long time for her… but for me? It felt like we were just talking about it… leaving Hyperion and starting a family. Shit…

“Jack-” She started to say before I felt my nerves being pushed and shoved around as Rhys took control again.

I thought I would have more time. His body shuddered almost violently, stopping (y/n) from saying anything as she stared at Rhys conversing with me. His hold on her separated almost too violently for my liking.

“What the hell, Rhys? That wasn't nearly enough time,” I snarled to him.

Rhys gained his bearings again. I guess I couldn’t take over his body for long periods of time anymore. Great. How was I supposed to-

“Is he gone?” (y/n) accidently interjected my thoughts.

Luckily, I didn’t have to tell Rhys to translate everything I wanted to tell (y/n), that would be a pain. Rhys retold the predicament that we were in with me being inside his head and all. She looked almost hurt. Man, this sucked. There was a machine in my office and last I remembered you could create an actual body with A.I.’s. It had to work. I turned to Rhys and began to relay my message to him so he could tell (y/n).

“There’s a machine in my office that I have, I haven’t had it tested but… It could work,” I said.

(y/n) shifted awkwardly, she was uncomfortable. It was clear as day but there was nothing I could do to comfort her at the moment. Soon. I’d be able to. Soon enough. Rhys bit on his bottom lip, thinking over the situation. We needed to go into my office anyways for Gortys’ beacon. Hit two birds with one stone and all that, right?

“Okay, but how do we get there? I don’t have clearance for that,” Rhys told me.

(y/n) watched Rhys with an unsteady gaze, I knew she was still uncertain about me but she hadn’t run off yet. There was a chance, I knew there was.

I smirked to myself lightly, the trap door. We could easily get through there. It was on the prison level if I wasn’t mistaken. Rhys was quick to notice my expression, He had caught onto me.

“I’m surprised that You being such a big --Obsessive-- fan of me didn't know about the trapdoor in my office…” Rhys didn’t say a word, not understanding what I was insinuating at. I rolled my eyes at his dumbass before gesturing in an upward direction. “We can go up the trapdoor, get into my office. Easy-Peazy.”

Rhys ran a hand over his face like I was the one stressing him out. Unbelievable. Wow. I am a delight to be around and he could ask anybody.

He was mumbling out loud to himself again, I’d think it was weird unless I knew that (y/n) did the exact same thing, which I did and she does. I glanced over to her, checking in on her. I knew all of this could be stressful to handle at once.

"I really don't want to risk my life by crawling up a trapdoor," Rhys told me.

The small comment gained (y/n)'s attention in a heartbeat. She glanced at Rhys, eyes narrowing. A light-hearted laugh escaped her for the first time today.

"He, uh, Jack used to throw people down there when he got bored during meetings. It got messy," (y/n) explained to Rhys.

(Y/n) pulled at the key card attached to her belt clip. It almost looked like the one I had… right? Man, so many things were still too fuzzy for me. Why? What the hell did Nakayama do?

"--But I actually have access to his old office," (y/n) told Rhys, wiggiling the pass.

Rhys took the incentive to follow (y/n) through the halls of Helios, leading us to my office. I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander to her form, she looked smaller than I remembered… I’d be able to hold her soon… I NEEDED to. I couldn’t go another minute without being to reach out and touch her.

My fists tensed tightly, I was so close to holding her. I looked to (y/n) and took over Rhys’ voice once more, to get a final sentence out before she’d actually be able to hear my own voice.

“This better work.”

#handsome jack #handsome jack ai #handsome jack x reader #handsome jack ai x reader #Borderlands x reader #Borderlands #tales from the borderlands #tales from the borderlands x reader

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malereader-inserts · 5 years

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Non Omis Moriar

Fandom: Avengers Pairing: Tony Stark & Son!Reader Summary: Non omis moriar means not all of me shall die, and that’s what you’ll do. Word Count: 2,301 Request: @will-grammer “Can I request reader being Tony's only son, and like Peter sneaking out to the ship to help them against Thanos, wearing one of Tony's suits? In the end, he's the one Thanos keeps alive after Strange gives him the time stone, and he watches everyone die in front of him. When he's back on earth, out of grief, he hallucinates Tony everywhere he goes. A bittersweet fic with a sad ending? The reader has no idea why Strange wanted to keep him alive, and he feels guilty over it, helpless and very insecure” A/n: I kinda changed it up a bit, hope you don’t mind and instead of five years we’ll do a year time skip because I’m planning to do a part two of this maybe???

Nebula and you sat on the ship that was wandering off to nowhere.

You didn’t know if you were going to make it back home, but at this rate, you couldn’t care less if you returned home or not. You rather die of starvation than return home, what is the point if you weren’t coming back to Earth victorious?

What is the point if you didn’t have your dad by your side?

You were dying, you know it.

“I’m needed,” You croak out, coughing as you sat up to stare out the window, Nebula looking at you, “Strange, he said I was needed when we first met. Like he already saw my future before I even uttered a word out.”

“You don’t believe him?”

“I don’t believe a lot of people, I don’t even believe in myself, let alone him,” You scoffed, shaking your head, “I wasn’t even supposed to be here.”

Nebula looked at you, tilting her head as she analysed you, nudging food towards you, watching you take it. Smiling to herself when she hears you coo in satisfaction of the food, anything tasted good to you.

“You seem like you deserved to be here, you’re a natural fighter.”

You knew she was complimenting you, throughout the whole process of taking down Thanos she’s nothing but a negative Nancy, you smiled to yourself when she was being nice to you - though, she could be feeling piteous for you as you are slowly deteriorating to death. You looked at her, you felt somewhat intimidated by her stare that could be easily mistaken for a glare.

“Dad and I worked on the suit I was wearing, dad had a thing for making suits for people he cares for. His best friend, Peter, my stepmother. It was an honest mistake, the suit could sense danger as to where I was and located itself to me.”

You played with the metal bracelets on each wrist, twisting it around, your thumb rubbing over the engraving that your dad designed. Your mind can’t stop replaying the moment everyone disappears.

You watched the guardians slowly turn in to ash, you knew Thanos had completed the gauntlet, then you couldn’t believe your eyes when Peter was calling out to his family - you and Tony, he was crying, he was in pain, he was begging.

Gone, into ashes.

But, what broke you is when you watched your dad stare at his hands slowly shift into smaller particles. You almost forget how to breathe as you met your dad’s eyes one last time, you try to hug him one last time, but as you reach out for him all you felt was the dust and he was no longer there.

You remembered how you dropped to your knees, an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness and hatred started to grow in your chest.

“I promised dad that I would stay on Earth as he grabs Peter back to Earth and yet, Strange’s stupid cloak wrapped itself around me and dragged me up to the spaceship.”

“As that man said, there’s a reason why he brought you with him, there’s a reason why he gave the stone. There must be a reason why my father kept you alive.”

“Horrible decision, really.”

You sighed, turning your head away from looking at her to the galaxy out the window. You’ve always wanted to visit space since anything was possible, you wondered how magnificent it would have looked, to see different plants and such. But, you can’t admire the beauty to full extent when your heart is heavy.

There are more than 14 million possibilities and one only you win.

What if this was the possibility that you don’t?

When you landed back on Earth, you knelt the floor and practically hugged it.

You continue to lay there as you lose the feeling in your legs, resorting to Nebula and Carol to pick you up. You lift your head up to see Bruce running up and engulfing you into a massive hug. Bruce has always been closed to you since you had met the Avengers at SHIELD with your dad.

You sat in when they were sciencing away, you gave your commentary. Bruce took a big liking to you, you saw him as family. He liked being accepted and around you, he couldn’t help but drop his walls down.

“Uncle Bruce,” You breathed out, weak, starving and craving for a drink.

“I’m here,” Bruce whispered, his hand stroking your hair, “I’ve got you.”

“I lost him, Bruce, I lost dad,” You sobbed, Bruce could feel you grip his shirt tighter, “I couldn’t stop it.”

“It’s not your fault,” Bruce consoled, shushing you as he allowed you to cry into his shirt.

He brings you into the base, you feel sick being there. You never had the reason to be at the Avengers base other than your dad bring you along, your head was hurting because all you could think was your dad.

Bruce leaves you to rest on a bed, knowledgable enough to be a physician, not a scientist doctor. He makes you rest your eyes, wires and tubing connected to you to prevent you from crashing and burning. Watching over you, terrified what you’ll be when you fully recover.

“He’ll be temperamental,” Bruce speaks, Carol next to him, looking over you behind the glass whilst Nebula makes herself comfortable by your side as she developed protectiveness over you.

“He watched everything disappear, I’m not surprised that you’re not angry at this either.”

“I’ve seen enough lost in my life, I’ve been lost myself, but (y/n) has always had his anchor, his dad to pull him out when he’s been irrational when he’s being hot-headed. Take that away and I fear what he’ll do to himself.”

Carol looks over to you, your sleeping form, you were only a teenager, maybe pushing it to young adult. But, all she knew was that you were young, still impressionable.

“He’s not like us, he’s not an Avenger, he’s not a hero, he wasn’t built for war or saving people. He’s just a man. Now, Nebula tells us everything that happened in Titan and he’s thrust the responsibility that he was needed, he’s essential to what? If I know that boy enough, he’ll only feel guilty for not helping enough when it’s not in his nature to save.”

Carol crosses her arms over her chest, Bruce looking worried, he dreads the future and wants to keep you under his watch. He watched everyone disappear in front of him. Steve, Thor, Bucky, Rhodey, everyone in Wakanda. He was upset, yes, but lost is familiarity with Bruce.

An old friend.

But, to you, lost is the thing that Tony wanted to shield you away from. Tony never want you to be lost in your head, lost within your emotion, lost of supplies and this was a consequence.

Carol huffs out a determined sigh, she doesn’t know you but the way this strange man was describing you, she couldn’t help but feel sad. There are millions of people feeling the same in your position.

“Sometimes, it only takes a man to do the job.”

You’ve given up.

Bruce was moping around ten times more after losing with Thanos again when he ventured out with Carol and Nebula to take the infinity stones and kill the King Titan. Things got awkward between you and Bruce.

Whilst Nebula and Carol went back to space, Carol explaining that she was getting feedback and that the snap was happening to other areas of the universe, in different realms. Nebula left because it felt right, but she was also keeping an eye of areas, she felt comfortable in a place she was familiar with.

You kept yourself in your dad lab, your dad’s technology and tools all scattered the room. You worked on your broken suit, the suit that you built with your dad, the suit that your dad force you to do it yourself whilst giving you pointers on the side.

Unknownst to you, whilst he had complete faith in your engineering skills, he had added his own little touch to your suit. He had no intention for you to use it unless it was an emergency. Making bracelets for you to wear to know your vital signs, to know if you’re in danger, to know if you were to require the suit and send it out to you.

You didn’t know why you decided to sit and work in your dad’s space, the room where he had taught you to function his suits, how to control and how to blast the weapons. He taught you to be observant of everything.

Your dad was your mentor.

And now, you sit alone.

Hoping, wishing, wanting something back.

When you got restless over your suit, you decided to fiddle with your dad’s plans and files on the screens, his intention to update the Avengers equipment. To distract yourself you did them yourself, you scoff to yourself.

Well, if you were to bring them back you might as well update their equipment while you’re at it.

“No, Natasha wouldn’t want it like that,” You snapped your head at the voice, looking around to see no one.

“It’s just in your head, (Y/n), get it together, man,” You mumbled to yourself, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, “He’s gone, Dad’s not coming back.”

“You have such little faith in yourself,” You hear your dad’s voice again.

You snapped your eyes open, and again no one was in the room with you, “Hey, Fri?”

“Yes, sir?” The AI’s voice replied.

“Did you hear that voice?” You questioned, if the AI had heard it then surely you weren’t going insane and you can go over video feedback.

“There is no other voice, sir, just yours.”

“So I am going insane,” You concluded, your hands shaking as you dropped your dad’s tools on the table with a clang.

“Hey! Careful with them!” You jumped out of your skin as you turned around and bumped the back of your body to the working table, “You know, kid, I thought I taught you to respect the tools.”

“Sir?” Friday's voice spoke as you jumped out of your skin, breathing heavily, “You’re vital signs are up, are you okay?”

“I think I’m going insane,” You replied, shaking your head and dropping down to the floor.

Your back leaning against the leg of the workshop table, you run both your hands over your face then through your hair. Your heart was racing, hands were shaking, tears forming in your eyes. You’ve done nothing in the past month or so in trying to return everyone back to Earth, were you feeling guilty that you couldn’t possibly handle the responsibility that Strange has pushed upon you?

Were you that guilty that the only source of comfort was to make your dad talk to you in your head? Were you hearing voices? Were you losing your god damn mind and did you want it to stop?

Having it stopped meaning you couldn’t have the connection to your dad.

Not having it stop could lead to insanity, could lead to bigger things, you could be with your dad again.

You bury your face into the palms of your hands, tears staining your hands as you try not to get choked up. You’re almost forgetting how your dad sounds like.

“Come on kid,” You hear the voice again, closer than before, “You got to do it for me.”

“You’re not real,” You mumbled to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut tighter hoping the feeling of someone next to you would wash away.

“Sir? May I suggest you get some rest?”

“Good idea,” You agreed once in the past week to rest. Maybe you were getting so sleep deprived that you were hearing your dad.

Dragging yourself up to your feet as you exit the lab, walking down the corridors of pictures of the team, the faces all seem to transform to your dad’s smiling face. Your breathing hitched in your throat as you bolt it down the corridor into your room.

Your safe space.

You move to the bathroom, running the sink as you wash your face. The cold water refreshing you as your hands grabbed the sink, you stare into the white basin before your right-hand swipes a face towel.

Dabbing the droplets off your face, you stood up straight. Removing the towel from your face and opening your eyes to stare at the mirror. You almost experience a heart attack when you see a face, a man standing next to you. You jumped and spun on your heels.

“What the hell?” You mumbled you swear you had seen your dad in the mirror, you blinked a couple of times, “It’s just in my head.”

“Of course, it’s all in your head.”

You hear the voice and smashed yourself between the wall and the closed bathroom door when you see your dad sitting on the toilet. His elbow resting against the bathroom counter, his sharp brown eyes piercing into you.

“Dad?” You breathed out in disbelief.

Tony smiles, soft and inviting, just like you remembered. You want to talk to him, hug him again, but you know you can’t. You closed your eyes, shake your head. When you open your eyes, the figure of your dad was gone.

There was no smile, there as no him.

Your shoulders deflate as you turn to leave the bathroom. Flopping onto your bed and shutting your eyes. You did your best not to open them because you know when you open them you could imagine your dad there.

The nightmares were much more inviting than the hallucinations.

Either way, you’ll be seeing your dad whether you like it or not.

#tony stark #tony stark imagine #tony stark x male!reader #x male reader #platonic #Avengers #avenger imagines #avengers imagine #angst

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firebirdtransam68 · 4 years

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Do I Really Like Giant Sentient Mecha Robots That Much?

Before I got into Mecha anime, I got into Transformers in the form of a live-action 2007 film; later, I got into G1 Transformers, and much later, I discovered Voltron: Defender Of The Universe (and especially Beast King Golion), and then ever since, I got into what I call Mecha robots, especially Super Robots, in which most Transformers works contain.

I discovered the anime show Transformers: Micron Legend (or the original subtitled version of Transformers: Armada) and Transformers: Superlink (or the original subtitled (and cleaner) version of Transformers: Energon), and I got completely hooked. The two shows were very similar to The Transformers (1984-1987) and The Transformers: The Movie (1986), as well as Voltron (especially in Superlink); however, I may like these shows even more than G1, which I like even more than the first Bayformers film. One reason may be because the Unicron Trilogy Transformers are a lot more human than the G1 characters. Another reason may be that the shows have darker and edgier moments that make G1 look like a typical Disney show, but also have very heartwarming and heart-wrenching moments suitable for different ages (adults, included). Another reason may be that I just find Mecha robots quite attractive. (There are many other reasons, but I can only list a few that stood out more to me.)

In fact, I really like G1 and the original Unicron Trilogy to the point that other anime shows I like do not get as much attention from me. For instance, I started delving into Sonic X (which is a really good anime show if viewed in its original language with English subtitles), and there are moments where I would obsess a little over it; however, the Transformers franchise dominated my interests, and I obsess over it even more than the Sonic The Hedgehog franchise. 2019 was the time where Transformers (especially the original Unicron Trilogy and G1, as well as Bumblebee (2018), on occasion) was my most favorite fandom of all time that I could remember; the fandom that emotionally and intellectually impacted me the most; even the original Sonic X and the earlier games involving Shadow The Hedgehog did not give me what most fans call “the feels” as much as Transformers did.

And then came 2020.

That was when I started getting into another work involving giant sentient Mecha robots much like Transformers (and yes, it is an anime show much like the two Transformers Unicron Trilogy shows), and the robots are just as human (if not more) as the Transformers in Micron Legend and Superlink. The anime show is called Brave Police J-Decker.

The show is so much like Transformers, despite many differences (including the fact that the Brave Robots are from Earth, and that it is not recognized by mainstream robot fans as is the Transformers franchise), and it really impacted me emotionally, even more so than the original Unicron Trilogy (for instance, seeing Micron Legend Ironhide die in Superlink was very devastating since Ironhide is one of my favorite characters; but seeing Deckerd die in Brave Police J-Decker was profoundly devastating since he, too, is one of my favorite characters, but is much more loveable).

Ever since, I almost forgot that I was a Trans-fan. Now I obsess over Brave Police J-Decker; and even more so, since I was severely impacted emotionally and intellectually (my IQ dropped when I saw the titular robot and a few other robots just like how many individuals’ IQs drop whenever they see puppies, cats/kittens, bunnies, young birds, and infants (which do not affect me as much), and I actually went “AWWWWW!” at one point, which is very surprising, since I rarely find anything to be cute!), and it is a miracle how (figuratively speaking, of course) my teeth did not rot from so much sweetness; and the characters are much sweeter than 100 kittens, 90 puppies, 50 young rabbits, 60 young birds, 10 infants, 20 young children, and literal rainbows and flowers (even that much would not affect me as much, since I am immune to such stuff, and my IQ would not even drop one bit). Perhaps the reason why I rarely find anything or anyone to be cute is because many of the animals, characters, and offspring that are supposed to be adorable (especially on pictures and videos) is that they are one-dimensional, and that their looks (especially displayed in a caricaturized manner) is their only trait (which I do not find impressive, at all). Perhaps I found a few sentient Mecha robots very appealing because of how complex their characters are, besides a few youthful features.

For instance, in Micron Legend (Armada), Ironhide (Demolishor) appears to be a teenager or an early twenty-something year old in many angles, and has a voice to match his apparent age, even though he is thousands of years old; he is quite naïve, kind-hearted, and is quite sensitive (he cried at least three times); however, he is a Decepticon (which is an Autobot’s enemy), can be really mean, is aggressive, stubborn, and is probably the most dangerous Transformer one would ever come across; he is also an anti-villain/anti-hero, much like Starscream is (whom I like as well, but not as much as the other Decepticon who happened to have an Autobot’s name). In Superlink, he was allied with the Autobots, and cares about them just as much as he cared about his Decepticon comrades; however, he is very loyal to Megatron/Galvatron, so loyal that he had no choice but to betray the Autobots, despite his seemingly free-will; he never got angry at the Decepticon leader even once. When he died in Episode 16, my heart nearly shattered, since I had high hopes that he would still be allied with the Autobots (and I even wished he had more screen time like he did in Micron Legend); when Irontread came along, I really wanted Ironhide back so badly that I almost stopped watching Superlink (yet kept going, because there are new characters that are quite likeable (including Shockfleet, Wing Saber, Springer, and the combiners), and when I found out Ironhide and Wing Saber shared the same seiyuu, I kept going until I saw the last episode).

Also in Brave Police J-Decker, I started really liking Deckerd since Episode One for similar reasons. He is extremely sweet and kind, is very good friends with the human child Yuuta Tomonaga to the point where they are like brothers (as Seia put it in Episode 25), has wise moments, is diligent, dedicated, devoted, determined, tough, brave (of course), a great leader to the Brave Police, and an ideal law enforcement officer many of us wished we had. However, he does have flaws; he is really naïve at times (which I believe is a minor flaw, but a flaw, nonetheless), does NOT take being neglected very well (as shown in Episodes 13 and 40), is not a perfect robot (having a 98.91% accuracy in shooting because the rest of the percentage is his human side (which makes sense, since having 100% accuracy would make him a calculating, soulless robot), or being inexperienced compared to most AI robots in most fiction), is very emotional and can act on impulse in such turmoil (looking at Episode 5 where he almost demolished the whole army when they were about to kill Gawn, whom has a still-alive Yuuta and Seia’s brother, for instance), is very dangerous (especially if you hurt those he really cares about), and has shown vulnerability many times (he does get hurt, and in the most severe cases, he is incapacitated to the point where he needed protection from the other Brave Police and the humans). And yes, he does have youthful features (like most, if not all, Brave Police robots).

The only prominent difference between the two characters I mentioned are that one is on the villain’s side (but is an anti-hero/anti-villain), and the other is purely on the hero’s side.

That set aside, hopefully when I settle down a little more, I will get back to finding more Transformers content (the advantage of having a new fandom to obsess over is that I do not have to wait for more content for the Unicron Trilogy and certain G1 material to be posted), and incorporating a new fandom to find more content about, in the future.

No matter what happens, I will still be a Trans-fan, even if I find a new interest temporarily, for a long period of time.

#fandom #liking a fandom #transformers #mecha #mecha anime shows #mecha anime #transformers anime #transformers g1 #transformers: micron legend #transformers: superlink #transformers unicron trilogy #original unicron trilogy #transformers generation one #brave saga #brave police j-decker #a rare moment of emotional sweetness overload...#I rarely find anything to be cute (but I can make a few exceptions)#I see a picture of a puppy and my response is 'meh' but when I see a sentient mecha robot I actually went 'squee!'#no offense to those who actually find animals and children appealing (I just personally am not as affected as most)#I never had an IQ drop like this before (hopefully when it all calms down I go back to normal and regain my remaining IQ)#the most complex characters are the most appealing ones #one decepticon pulled a few of my heartstrings... one police robot pulled all of my heartstrings #what else is it about sentient mecha robots that I find appealing...#no matter what I will still be a trans-fan #no matter what happens I will still be a transformers fan

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blancheludis · 5 years

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A/N: @iron-man-bingo , square: Superfamily, Spider-Man ID Reveal

Fandom: Marvel, MCU, Avengers Words: 3.728 Characters: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Peter Parker Tags: Super Family, Iron Dad, Fluff, Identity Reveal

Summary: t is merely by coincidence that Steve and Tony find out that their son is Spider-Man. Once the initial yelling is over, they might even admit they are proud of him.

---

“We need to go home.”

Steve, who was just about to take a sip of his terribly complicated coffee, pauses and looks at Tony, confused. Their coffee dates are sacred and not to be interrupted by anything. Tony’s office has learned to not – under any circumstances – call him when he is out for lunch with Steve, and even Pepper keeps any emergencies for afterwards. One hour every Wednesday is their time, and they do not let it be ruined by anything.

Now, however Tony is staring at the screen hanging over the counter at the café they have chosen, unmoved and face grim. When Steve turns around to look at it, he almost expects another alien invasion or something of an equal attitude that would require their immediate attention, although the Avengers alarm should have gone off already in that case. What he sees does not help with his confusion at all.

The footage is from Central Park, where a reporter is talking in the foreground. Behind her, Spider-Man is visible, swinging merrily. There is no fight, not even a sign of any trouble brewing. Yet, Tony keeps staring as if they are witnessing the beginning of the apocalypse.

“That’s Spider-Man,” Steve says slowly, wondering what essential point he is missing. “It does not look like he’s in trouble. And he wasn’t exactly keen on our help the last time we tried.”

Steve has to admit that had stung a little. Spider-Man is young and, as far as they know, out there all alone. He might not be taking on any of the more dangerous villains haunting New York, but things can turn bad very quickly. It is always good to have some allies. Yet, the friendly neighbourhood hero had basically fled as soon as they attempted to speak to him, yelling something along the lines of not needing them. It might just be all right, but Steve cannot help that he is a worrier.

“Look at what he’s carrying,” Tony says through clenched teeth.

Steve does as he is bid. True enough, Spider-Man is carrying something, but it is just – “A bag. Tony,” Steve frowns, contemplating for a brief moment to sniff at the coffee in case someone is trying to poison them, “What’s gotten into you?”

“And what,” Tony says with rising tension, “is on the bag?”

The footage is not the best, but Steve has good eyesight, so he squints at the screen. Two colourful dots adorn the dark cloth. “Some kind of – oh,” Steve exclaims in realization. “These are an Iron Man and a Captain America badge.” He knows them because Peter has them too. Frowning, he inclines his head at Tony. “It looks pretty similar to –”

“Peter’s bag.” Tony nods as if this is what he has been trying to say all this time “Exactly.”

When Tony does not look any more satisfied at Steve having solved the riddle but is still uncharacteristically tense for their lunch break, Steve wonders what he is still missing.

“So what?” he asks. “It’s not like this is Peter’s bag. Spider-Man is a fan, that’s all.”

Which makes his reluctance to work with them or at least let them help out at times a little strange, but that could be simple shyness in the face of actually meeting them.

“I’m saying that it is a pretty strange coincidence that the young superhero with the familiar speech pattern and the strict four-to-eight patrol time is carrying our son’s bag around.”

Now it is Steve’s turn to stare. He wonders what Tony means with the familiar speech pattern but now that he is thinking about it, Spider-Man – on the one occasion they talked – sounded familiar. That he is apparently working on a schedule is not that strange either. Not everybody has the dubious luxury of being a hero full-time.

All of that, of course, would only be relevant if Steve would even consider that Tony’s words have a ring of truth to it. Peter is not Spider-Man. He is fifteen and their son. He knows better.

“He’s not Peter,” Steve says, surprised at the uncertainty in his own voice. “We would’ve noticed. Or he would have told us.”

Peter would not keep such a secret from them, surely. Considering their side jobs, they would understand better than any other parent in the city. When Tony’s face does not change and he just waits for Steve to cave, Steve adds, “Our son does not stick to things.”

“Well,” Tony declares and drowns the rest of his coffee in one go, “let’s go home and find out.”

He does not yet get up, though, but keeps staring at Steve, probably waiting for an argument that will allow him to calm down, something that will prove the ridiculousness of his sudden fear.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Steve thinks – but does not come up with anything. “We can’t just storm home and confront him with wild accusations,” he finally says after taking a deep breath. “We have to talk about this.”

Tony nods, knuckles turning white where he clenches his empty mug. “With Peter.”

This whole situation is going to resolve into a misunderstanding made by Tony after another all-nighter or two. There is no way their son is Spider-Man, and they will find out exactly that when they get home.

Still, Steve glances back up at the screen, which has long since changed to some commercial, and then at Tony. Doubt is pooling in his stomach.

Peter has changed – of course, he has, every child changes when it hits puberty, but Peter has gained muscles more than height and his appetite has tripled. In a household like theirs, with one supersoldier to feed and a steady flood of guests coming through, that has not been that obvious, but of course they would notice that Peter could suddenly eat two pizzas in one going and still ask for dessert. He had also begun to withdraw more, which might not be that unusual for a teenager too, but he is not moody, has not stopped talking to them. He is just making himself rare.

“If this is true,” Steve says, wondering how he can ever consider it, “you know it’s our fault.”

Tony’s eyes on him are heavy when he nods, jaw clenched and knuckles growing whiter. When Steve reaches out to pry Tony’s fingers off his mug, Tony clings to his hands for a minute.

“Only one way to find out,” Tony decides. “Take your coffee. We’re going home.”

What Steve has expected to find as they come home is an empty penthouse or perhaps Peter and Ned building another Lego monstrosity in their living room. It is silent when they get out of the elevator, but when Tony asks JARVIS where Peter is, the AI hesitates.

JARVIS never does that, he is programmed not to, especially when it comes to such a simple question. Steve and Tony share a look.

“The young Master is in his room, sir,” JARVIS finally answers. His tone is calm enough, but that does not keep Tony from marching down the hall.

Not bothering to knock, Tony pushes into Peter’s room, only to come to an abrupt stop in the doorway. He is pale and his hands are clenched again, but before Steve can ask, he reaches the room too and freezes.

There is Peter, their fifteen-year-old son, looking like he has just been caught stealing cookies directly out of the jar. His chest is bare, revealing some faint bruises that Steve’s eyes are immediately zeroing in on. Below that, pooling around his hips, is a red and blue suit that looks painfully familiar, considering they have just seen it on a news feed. Completing the picture is Peter’s bag sitting innocently at his feet, the two badges glinting traitorously up at them.

For a moment, none of them moves, much less says anything. The opportunity for Peter to pass this off as a coincidence – this could just be some very formfitting pyjamas – passes unused.

Instead, Peter swallows audibly, and says, “Hey, Dads.”

That breaks Tony out of his stillness. With a dangerously calm expression, he steps into the room, focused on nothing but Peter.

“And here I was hoping for a this isn’t what it looks like greeting,” he says, ignoring the fact that they would not have believed it.

Steve, on the other hand, is glad that Peter has not tried to lie – of course, they do not actually know anything yet. This could still be something easily explained away. At least until Peter opens his mouth again.

“Would you have believed me?”

That is as good as an admission of guilt. Steve closes his eyes briefly. When he opens them again, Peter is still standing before them in half of the Spider-Man suit.

No,” Tony snaps, taking another step forward until it looks like they are facing off. “But I have a heart condition, and finding out that my teenage son is running around New York in spandex fighting crime even though he should know better, and then hearing that he doesn’t feel even slightly guilty about it, doesn’t help.”

Tony delivers all of that in a breathless staccato. For once, his hands are very still, hanging by his side like he is not sure whether to clench them or to gesticulate.

Even before Peter speaks, Steve knows he should not have. There is a defiance on his face that Steve knows all too well from Tony, but that has never helped to solve a conflict.

“It’s more like swinging.” Peter sticks out his chin a little, looking from Tony to Steve and back.

“What?” Tony asks, dangerously low.

Steve thinks he should probably step in, but he is busy pushing down the urge to groan. This is escalating quickly. The only good thing about Peter’s forwardness is that it keeps their concentration on his words, not on the far more damning fact of him being Spider-Man in the first place.

“I’m not running,” Peter says slowly, “I’m swinging.”

Later, someone should reward him for his courage. Steve knows it is not going to be either him or Tony.

“You are so grounded until –” Tony begins, voice growing into a growl, but Steve cuts him off.

“How long?” he asks, feeling unnaturally calm. The panic and the fear will come later, he knows, but one of them has to hold onto his objectiveness for the time being.

“I was just getting to that,” Tony snaps, looking over his shoulder to glare at Steve.

Stepping forward, Steve shakes his head. “No, I mean Peter. How long?”

Peter looks much less certain in the face of Steve’s calm. “About a year,” he replies and pauses as if he expects the shouting to finally begin. Tony does bluster, but Steve gestures for Peter to continue. “It was an accident during a school trip to the Roxxon lab. I –” He shrugs, looking far younger than his fifteen years. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

That hits Steve hard. He thought they were the kind of family that could talk about everything. How afraid Peter must have been, coming home after an accident – whatever that means – and not feeling safe enough to talk about it.

“So you decided not to tell us at all,” Steve says. Mostly to himself he adds, “Great, I see where you got your common sense from.”

Immediately, Tony whirls around to him. “Don’t put this on me.”

That was not Steve’s intention at all, but the thoughts are racing through his mind and he can hardly imagine how much worse it must be for Tony, who is used to thinking in numbers and likely has already made a mental list of all the sightings, enemies and recorded wounds Spider-Man has gathered since he first appeared, all put in relation to the miniscule changes they did not notice happening with their own son. Or which they did notice and wrote off as normal.

“You were flying around as Iron Man too without telling anyone,” Steve argues. He does not put any heat into his voice, because he is not actually interested in arguing with Tony. It is better if he draws Tony’s anger for now, though, to give Peter some breathing space. They do need to talk about this, but not while everybody is agitated.

“Yes, but I wasn’t a teenager,” Tony emphasizes that as if it physically hurts him, “and I didn’t have parents who are the living examples that this life is dangerous.”

“But you did it with a heart condition, as you like to remind us.” They have had this argument before, several times, and it will soon burn out.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees Peter beginning to move slowly towards the door. He does not think Peter is going to run away, so he lets him go.

“That is completely diff-” Tony cuts himself off when he realizes what is going on. “And where do you think you’re going?” He glares at the both of them, clearly knowing what Steve has been doing.

“Erm,” Peter splutters, looking at Steve for help, who simply shrugs. He is angry too, and disappointed. “Shower?”

To both their surprise, Tony nods. “Good idea. You’re reeking.” Then, with a sharpness that cuts, he adds, “Leave the suit.”

Time comes to a standstill as Peter first pales, wide-eyed and looking like he is going to start shaking any moment now, and then squares his shoulders. “I’m not going to do that.”

In the safety of his mind, Steve can admit that he is impressed. Few people stand before a livid Tony Stark and tell him no. Even fewer people can get away with it, of course.

“That wasn’t a request,” Tony snaps and holds out his hand as if he expects to receive the suit right now.

“If you take it away,” Peter says with deceptive calm, “I’ll be going out without it.”

And Steve, despite it being completely inappropriate, is proud of Peter. More so than with going out in the first place to help people, this answer proves that he definitely is Tony and his son. If someone dared to take Ton’s suits away, he would built something better and make them pay for it. If someone took Steve’s shield, he would not let that keep him from doing the right thing.

At his side, Tony’s tense form crumbles a bit, and Steve knows that he is thinking the same thing, even though he is not going to give in that easily.

“Not if you’re not ever going to leave your room again.”

Despite himself, Steve has to grin at Tony’s grumbling tone. There is still fury there, but also grudging respect.

“You can’t –”

“Peter,” Steve says firmly, interrupting before Tony’s mood sours again. “You’re fifteen. We need to talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about?” Peter snaps and sounds more than ever like a teenager. “I have abilities. If you can do what I can but you don’t and then bad things happen, that’s on me.” That sounds practiced enough to betray that Peter actually has thought about telling them, has readied arguments for himself, and then has still not found the courage to actually talk to them. “That’s why you go out, right? Because you can and because it’s the right thing to do.”

Steve shares an uncomfortable look with Tony. Of course, they go out because it is right. They are the Avengers because the world was in danger and they were there to step up. Worse, Steve wanted to help before he had the ability to do so.

“Tony’s right,” Steve says calmly, “you’re still young. And we’re not going out on our own. We always have backup.” That is not working. Steve sees Peter’s frustration and therefore is willingness to argue increase further. With a silent sigh, he changes course. “What if you didn’t come home one night because you weren’t prepared enough?”

“I’m –” Peter protests immediately, but Steve cuts him off, needing to make his point first.

“Then because of an accident. Those happen, abilities have nothing to do with that.” He does not actually want to argue about Peter’s abilities, especially since he does not know much about them yet. “We might never know what happened to you or find out about you being Spider-Man only when they find your body.”

At this, Peter winces slightly, although his shoulders never lose their tension.

“You’re our son,” Steve intones with some pleading. “If something happens to you, that’s on us. And we’d never forgive ourselves if we lost you.”

Next to him, Tony nods firmly. For a long moment, Peter simply looks at them, face open and yet unreadable. Then, thankfully, he slumps, eyes dropping to the ground.

“I didn’t know how to tell you.”

That is another thing they have to talk about because Peter should not be too scared or nervous to come to them with anything. Before Steve can say anything, Tony sets them several steps back again, as he does.

“How about ‘hey dad, pops, I can stick to things now. What are we going to do about that?’”

Tony’s entire body is still thrumming with tension, but Steve does not dare to reach out and put an arm around his husband’s shoulders. He fears that would look too much like they are uniting against Peter. That is the last thing that is going to help.

“It’s not yours to do anything about,” Peter snaps, although he sounds much less agitated than just a few minutes ago. “These are my abilities. My responsibility.”

Just barely, Steve can keep himself from turning towards Tony. That sounds suspiciously like his husband reasoning why it has to be him going after the last of his weapons. They have a lot of good traits to pass on to their son. It would have been nice if their stubbornness would not have been one of them.

“And you’re ours,” Tony says, sounding like he does not expect another argument to come after this.

“You’re a good kid, Peter,” Steve hurriedly adds before those two can begin to lash out at each other. “We’re not saying you should stop being Spider-Man forever –”

“We aren’t?” Tony throws in, looking up at Steve incredulous.

“But talk to us,” Steve continues, ignoring Tony’s argument. “Don’t do this alone.”

Truth be told, Steve would prefer to keep Peter under close watch from now on, to make sure he is protected to the best of their ability when he is going out. Because he will be going out, there is no doubt about that. The best day can do, is offer Peter their help and sneak in some extra measures without appearing too overbearing. The parent in Steve, however, struggles to accept that.

After an eternity, Peter nods tersely, looking like he knows this is not yet over by far.

Taking a step forward, Tony holds out his hand. “Now, give me the suit.”

“No,” Peter all but yells and Steve silently echoes the word inside his head. This is still not the right way to go about this.

Then, though, Steve notices that Tony is drumming some pattern on his leg with his fingers instead of holding them still at his side. That is a good sign. It means that Tony is thinking the way he does about projects.

“Peter,” Steve says sternly, trusting Tony to do the right thing. “Do what your Dad says. He needs to have a look at the suit to see how he can make it safer for you.”

To his surprise, Tony does not even twitch. “Yes,” he says. Much quieter, he adds, “After I’ve locked it up and waited until you’re at least thirty to give it back.”

Peter obviously sees the same signs Steve does, because he looks uncertain but not like he is going to continue the fight.

“Dad,” he says slowly, half-pleading, half-warningly.

“Suit, then shower,” Tony orders. “Steve will cook us dinner and then we’ll talk.”

That means that Tony will go directly to the workshop and busy himself there for the next hours until it is dinnertime. Tony is prone to hiding himself away when he is upset, but Steve is going to let it slide this time. It will give all of them enough space to calm down. Perhaps it will give him the opportunity to catch Peter alone before dinner, just to reassure him that this is not something that will drive them apart.

With slow motions, Peter gets out of the suit and, even more reluctantly, hands it over to Tony, almost as if he is giving a part of his soul away. Steve can imagine how it feels, and does not think he would have given anyone his shield like this, not even if there are claiming to have only good intentions.

Pressing the fabric close to his chest, Tony whirls around and heads for the door. Before he leaves the room, though, he turns around again.

“Don’t ever do something like that to us again,” he says sternly, but then the scowl on his face softens. “But we’re proud of you.”

Not waiting for an answer, Tony disappears down the hallway, leaving Steve and Peter to look at each other in silence, unmoving until they hear the doors of the elevator close.

“Are you?” bursts over Peter’s lips, so quickly that it seems he is afraid he will not dare to ask it at all if he waits. “Is he?”

Feeling the conflicted feelings in his chest unknot, Steve steps forward and puts a hand on Peter’s arm. “Of course we are,” he says as firmly as he managed with how his throat constricts. “You know your dad. If at all possible, he’d keep you safely at home until you’re eighty and too old to pose much of a danger to yourself, special abilities or not.”

If at all possible, Steve would do the same. He also remembers how he himself was at that age, or every age really, always looking for the good fight.

“I know several eighty-year-olds who would protest that statement,” Peter says dryly. For the first time since they came into his room, he does not look one look word from jumping out the window and swinging away. “Remember old Stan from the comic book store?”

“You know what I mean,” Steve replies, but he is smiling. “We love you. Come to dinner when you’re ready.”

Steve has not yet managed to turn around, when Peter says, “Love you too.”

That, at least, is something they can always count on.

#iron man bingo 3000 #stony #iron dad #spiderson #identity reveal #protective tony stark #protective steve rogers #precious peter parker #ao3 #my writing #i swear a new chapter for the soulmate au is coming

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merryfortune · 5 years

Text

Day 4 – Water / Connection

Ship: Aoi/Aqua/Miyu

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Word Count: 1.8k

Tags: Post-Canon, Alternate Universe – Everybody Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst With A Happy Ending, Prose, Introspective Fic

The first thing the Water Ignis became aware of upon becoming lucid, sentient, was that girl’s smile.

Her Origin adored this girl. Shy, clumsy, hiding behind her fringe and this massive dolly that she carried around – a dolly Aqua would later have been taught by her Miyu, her host, as being Evilswarm Mandragora. It was an Earth attribute monster so the Water Ignis wasn’t overly familiar with it by virtue of being the Ignis of the Water attribute, and by virtue of having been born from duelling using cards exclusive to her preordained attribute. However, it was the principal of it, what it symbolised not only to herself, but to her Miyu as well. Thus, the Water Ignis held a fondness for it and the rest of its elemental classification regardless. Still, the Water Ignis enjoyed the visage of the little girl clutching onto it as Miyu read the card description for it over and over again. It was a precious memory which the Water Ignis clung to as she tried to understand this world which she had been brought into and her Miyu had been taken away from.

Even as a child, a six-year old, Miyu had a grand interest in duelling and she had a fantastic aptitude for it. The Water Ignis could not have been prouder of this girl whom she was so intimately connected to as Ignis and originator. And whilst it may have been a serene image of a smile, a raucous and joyous moment of fun stolen in time, was what the Water Ignis awakened to when she became sentient inside of her tank, as studied and probed by the scientists who had orchestrated her existence and reason for her existence, the Water Ignis knew that her child, her Miyu, was exceptionally strong despite her position. The Water Ignis was keenly aware, from the moment her twinkling eyes opened, and her fingers could move through the fluid which she was kept in a prismatic, glassy stasis within, she knew the cruelty of the situation.

Her birth, her awareness, her entire existence was brought upon by the suffering of that girl, her Miyu whom she knew simultaneously everything and nothing about. Occasionally, the Water Ignis would get a glimpse of what Miyu thought or felt and that would strengthen her. It would give her body more stillness and it would give her mind more clarity but all it did was make her want to weep.

The Water Ignis did not believe that she had a right to exist if her existence was suffering. Day in, day out: electrocution, hunger, exhaustion, squalor, deprivation, isolation – the list of sins inspired by this experiment grew longer and longer.

But there came a day. Another moment in which Miyu was thrown against the wall in shock and it made the Water Ignis shudder. Another loss, another ring of electrocution and another meal which was nothing but rice and the thinnest juice available in a cardboard box. But, the Water Ignis was rewarded because of how Miyu devoured that meal and stood up, aiming once more for freedom and for cake and for something which would quell the raging fear like a storm in her heart and mind because she wanted to see her Mama and Papa again.

She wanted to see Aoi again. That little girl with the pigtails and the Mandragora plushie who drew angels in the dirt. The Water Ignis could feel it. Feel it in her soul. Miyu poured her heart and soul into the Water Ignis and the Water Ignis desired very desperately to refill and replenish all which her host gave her.

And that desire, that spark, that little moment as Miyu gallantly duelled once more with an Aquaactress deck which had a severe disadvantage against the playing style of her AI foe. As Miyu stared at her hand like a foot, the Water Ignis could sense what was spurring her onwards as she tried to find some winning combination amongst these cards which were jarring and didn’t seem to fit together as ideally as anyone would like.

It was true that yes, Miyu would like to have a big slice of cake topped with strawberries and vanilla ice-cream, or that she would like to take big, gulping breaths of fresh air or to go longer than ten minutes without being electrocuted, but there was something which, for her, transcended all those things and that motivation was what became the core of the Water Ignis’ very being.

She wanted to apologise. She wanted to tell the truth. She wanted to protect the smile of the girl reduced to sobbing when her mother, with a grip like an iron vice on her wrist, dragged her away from this precious friend. Something which sickened the Water Ignis immensely because of how she studied this familial and platonic interaction: it was all she knew, for now, as taught by this hurting child.

It was little reprieve when the day they separated finally happened. The Water Ignis was going to miss her little girl but her little smile was too precious, too dear, so she would forsake it. She would flee with her kin and they would hide away from the world until it was smashed to smithereens.

From there, the Water Ignis sat in the grass and she sat in the bronze. She was given a name by her dearest companion yet she still, inwardly, sought to the smile which was not his and when his own demise came to pass, Aqua knew what she had to do in his stead as she knew the truth. She always did. His Origin was not so kind, and her Origin was not so wakeful, but coincidences bisected perfectly and Aqua found her. The girl whom the very smile from which she was conceived came into her life; glittering and blue. Aqua could see it beneath that digital disguise: the girl who still hid behind her brunette bangs.

She sat in linen. Aoi’s sheets were soft and her room was playful. It was exactly the sort of room that Aqua thought a girl child would have. It was pink and pastel with dolls in the corners. It made her nostalgic for daydreams of things which, in hindsight, perhaps could have come to pass but in foresight, would have changed things far too drastically. This was the best course of action: a partnership with the girl of blue. Blue Angel; Blue Girl’ Blue Maiden – the fairy tales and stories of triumph that Aoi and Miyu had shared amongst each other, dear and precious memories which had contributed to how Aqua was created from her Origin.

And later, with much regret, Aqua sat through her demise. It was a lonely stasis, one which she couldn’t breach by herself; she had to rely on Ai and the guilt which he was riddled with. Aqua regrets that very much; her kindness had its limits and he was untouchable, it all but seemed. So, she spent of her time, biding, waiting patiently for the opportunity in which she would return from whence she had come. Not darkness, not liquid, but to her.

Her Miyu.

And her Aoi.

That wonderful day came most fabulously after a long and harrowing ten years.

A lot had happened. No longer was Miyu’s hair tied up in a gallant set of twin pigtails and no longer was Aoi terrified so easily and no longer was the Water Ignis simply the Water Ignis. She was no longer tiny, tiny enough to fit in the palm of Miyu’s hand; she now had a humanlike body save for the diamond notch on her neck which marked her as a SOLtis droid; a cyan-lit notch she wore with pride because she wanted to honour how accessible the world had become thanks to human innovation. And ultimately, it didn’t matter. No matter her body, her story and her goals and her ambitions and her rational thinking would remain unchanging despite the fluidity of her element.

She was Aqua: partner to Blue Maiden, Ignis to Sugisaki Miyu, and lover to them both.

She was delighted to be part of their life. Though, it felt awkward being somewhat taller than them both, but she slotted in between them quite naturally. Their connection was something precious to her and she was their precious connection to each other, as well: past and present, knowingly and unknowingly. The little creature born from their love, in a metallic body, holding their hands and joining them in moving forward and smiling. Beaming. Grinning.

In her absence, they had found each other and that brought Aqua a joy the likes of which she couldn’t describe and would forever cherish. Whilst a part of her, hopeful and idealistic, would have loved to have been in that fragrant hospital room with them when they had reunited, she was glad that she wasn’t. There was a symbolism to it and Aqua could be happy with that neatness: that pattern and meaning that she saw, personally, amid the entropy of reality and how victories are never flawless just as losses are never hopeless. Just as Miyu did not know she was there; she did not know that Miyu was there this second time around when light finally pierced the darkness and darkness pierced the light. So, to hear of the smiles and laughter and the embraces that they had with one another after her demise and in the wake of the incident with Lightning was something special to Aqua.

Her moment in which she found life in her existence, still and static and closed off from not only the world but from her Origin as well, was when Miyu had thought of her dearest friend’s smile. And so, it felt like a closed connection to Aqua. She had returned from whence she had come but this time, on her own terms. With her head up and her shoulders back, Aqua was ready.

She wanted to be the dolly that they shared amongst themselves, but she chastised herself for that; they weren’t children anymore, they were fine young adults, so she had to find her own maturation as well. It was likely too late to indulge such childish fantasies of playing with them like she had daydreamed so long ago, amid whistling Datastorms and rippling, green grass, when everything seemed hopeful and soft after the completion of the Cyberse World.

But her girls laughed, in good nature, at her laments and Aqua flushed, embarrassed. With an elegant body like hers and a face so pretty, Aqua could still be their dolly. She could hold onto their soft, human hands and she could be reason for their smiles, not their tears, and they could stride forward, into a shining new tomorrow held upon their own strengths and joys.

#cyberselove2019 #yugioh vrains #vrains #yugioh #aqua (vrains)#aoi zaizen #zaizen aoi #miyu sugisaki #sugisaki miyu #zinniashipping #teardropshipping #there's no tag for this ship but both are relevant #writing tag #femslash #i tried to write this as inspired by the fact its world smile day today

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charmywrites · 5 years

Text

Bitter & Sweet (Pt. 3)

Summary: Loosely based on the song “Idols can’t go on for 10 years, right?” by Berryz Koubou. The reader is a foreigner who’s grown up in South Korea since early childhood, upon her mother marrying a Korean man. In her adolescent years, she’s scouted by someone working for a big company and encouraged to audition. Deciding to do it for fun, the reader takes a leap and goes through with the audition. She didn’t really plan to actually get in and go on a 10+ year journey.

Part 1. Part 2.

( 2015, 7 years after debut. )

“We’re going to pick about three or four trainees from the audition.”

The mood was grim as your manager announced those words, standing up while all of Ultra Smart sat at the table within the meeting room. All except Sunhee, who officially left just the day before. No concert or anything in celebration, Nothing but a departing post to Poindexters, the fandom, from the group’s blog.

Ever since the interview, it was announced that she would be leaving due to ‘personal reasons’, which many fans worriedly assumed was some sort of health problem. Nothing was clarified by the company. Eventually, it would come to light that she was getting married.

Nara and Doyeon were the most quiet about the news. Nara was always a quiet girl, who contemplated things in the same mild manner. Her brows were downturned and harsh, eyes unable to look at anything but the cold surface of the table. Doyeon had her head in one hand, fingers gripped in the long, black, strands of her hair. Everything in her position screamed unhappiness and disappointment.

That’s what all of the girls currently felt they were. Disappointments. Even if only a few of them would let it show.

Were they not enough to keep the group going? With Sunhee gone and Yoora leaving, couldn’t Ultra Smart continue as six? Now, they were growing to possibly ten members. Even at debut, the public would ask wasn’t eight too many? They got accused of copying their sunbaes, Girls Generation, for being too close to nine. Six should’ve been satisfactory, but the girls knew it wasn’t truly about numbers.

"The company still wants you as the flagship group, at least.” The manager, Wonbin, tried to console. Replacing the old manager, he had only been looking after Ultra Smart for the last four years. Still, everyone was familiar with him as he’d worked for the company for longer. He was more empathetic than the last manager, trying to make the members as happy as he fairly could from his position. “A lot of groups who lose so many members get left behind, but you still have a large following. So, the company is willing to give you another chance.”

“I’m sorry, everyone.” Yoora felt the need to apologize, playing a part in why the group was going through so many changes.

You shook your head, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t apologize, we understand. Really.” You didn’t want her to go, but the woman was tired -- emotionally and physically. Anyone would be tired of working such a rigorous career after seven years, eight including the trainee days. Seven years was the usual ‘curse’ for girl groups in Kpop, but you would rather only one or two members break off than the whole group. You loved Ultra Smart too much.

“It’s only expected.” Mali tried to console the leader as well, seemingly faring a bit better than everyone else. The smile on her face was weak, but meaningful as it was directed towards Yoora. “If you didn’t leave, I’m sure someone else probably would. We can’t stay together forever.”

You nodded, although everyone left was pretty adamant that they were going to be in the group for a while. At least, hopefully. “We’ll be alright.” You said for both yourself and Yoora, hand leaving her shoulder to clutch together in your lap. “Especially since you and I will attend the auditions, we’ll have a say in who comes into the group. That’s the brightside of all this.”

Yoora just smiled softly, leaning up straighter to place her own hand over yours. “And, you’ll be a great leader. I know it.” She said, no doubt sensing your apprehension.

Jiang Ai, who had been more neutral about the news, clapped her hands together. “Yeah, we have faith in you!” She announced, lifting the somber mood in the room. Everything about the young woman was a vitamin, even when her twin wasn’t catching onto their ‘twin vibes’. In fact, Jiang Yi was in the same boat as Nara and Doyeon; distraught over the group she knew and loved slowly breaking off.

“Yah!” Jiang Ai tried to whip her twin into shape, tapping on her arm. “Cheer up, will you? You heard oppa, we’re not breaking up. We’re getting another chance! This is good!”

In response, Jiang Yi moved from her leaning position in the chair to sitting up straighter. Her expression was still dejected, however. It was an unsaid understanding between all the foreign members that this audition was partly their fault. Like the manager said sometime ago, Ultra Smart couldn’t go on with only two Korean members. Jiang Yi felt a certain type of way about that, but kept her mouth shut on the matter. At least, in front of their manager. “Okay, I get it. Stop hitting me.” The young woman said, crossing her arms.

A tentative look crossed Wonbin’s face, eyes meeting your own uneasy ones. “Perhaps...We’re still trying to gauge the public’s reception of Y/N having leadership over the group. It’s ultimately the CEO’s decision, not mine.” The good vibes that Jiang Ai tried to lift up suddenly popped like a bubble, stone cold silence filling the air once again.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Yoora trying to get a feeling of your reaction. As if she thought you were going to take it badly; cry or throw a tantrum like you would’ve in the old days. But, no tears or harsh words came.

“We’ll see.” Was all you said in response, before continuing on.

“Let’s take this one day at a time.”

( 2007, 6 months before debut )

“I can’t do anything right!”

Tears flowed down your cheeks as you sobbed in the bathroom, Yoora’s small hand rubbing your back. It was just a few minutes after dance practice ended and you ran out of the room, upset that the moves didn’t come as easy to you as everyone else. The dance instructor was hardly understanding, giving backhanded comments here and there about how you weren’t trying hard enough.

“I was trying my best!” You brought a hand to your face, hating to see your own upset face in the mirror. How many times have you cried since beginning training? You couldn’t keep count anymore. Never before had anyone pointed out so many flaws about you before. First, you were too chubby. Second, you couldn’t sing as well as the other trainees. Third, you ate too much. Now, it was this. The instructor always had something to say about your dance skills, putting you in the back with the ‘easiest’ moves even. Your body was stiff, you couldn’t remember the smallest things, everything was picked at until you couldn’t take it anymore.

You almost wanted to quit.

Yoora turned to get a tissue before handing it over, her usually stoic face now sympathetic. “All you can do is keep practicing until you get it right, some people just aren’t natural dancers,” She started. “But, that doesn’t mean you can’t ever become a good dancer. It’s the same with singing.”

You wanted to take her words to heart, you really did. It was good advice. However, the small, green, monster within you was already jealous that everything came ‘naturally’ to her. Yoora was already a decent singer and dancer. She got her fair share of harsh criticism, but also a good portion of praise as well. You were lucky to go a day without anyone ridiculing you.

“Yeah...” You weakly agreed, not truly thinking the same.

“It’s not too late to back out, you know.” Yoora offered. “The company will let you leave before the group is officially announced. If you think this is too much...”

You swiftly cut her off. “No!” Mind immediately going to all of the other girls you’d been paired with, you wanted to stay with them. It wasn’t even that all of you were close yet, because you weren’t. But, you wanted to be. People could call you idealistic all they wanted, but the idea of being in a group -- part of team -- with other people appealed to you.

You wanted to go through this with them, no matter how hard you had to work.

Maybe you were young and dumb to equate a group of co-workers to possible friends, but that’s what you wanted to get out of your time in the company. That’s what was keeping you afloat all this time; talking with Yoora and the other girls and forming some sort of bond. Especially after you lost what little friends you had after moving schools. At least, you couldn’t see your friends as much anymore.

“I'm not going to leave, I just need more time to get better.” You promised, more to yourself than the other girl. Your cheeks were dry now, a hand holding the tissue to your sniffling nose. In your mind, you weren’t thinking about how good Yoora was at everything or how you were at everything. Now, you were just envisioning a close-knit group; a group that you could look forward to being a part of. A group that would make all of this emotional pain and these physical aches worth it.

“Y/N?” A head poked into the bathroom, revealing the curious face of Aina. “Are you okay? Or, uh...” Seeing your puffy face, she realized the answer to her own question and came inside. “The instructor was just trying to push you to be the best you can be, don’t take what they said to heart. It’s okay.” Just a month older than you, that didn’t stop Aina from being the mother hen she was born to be.

Not wanting anymore people to see you upset, you shook your head. “I’m alright now,” You tried to add some cheer to your voice, but the unfazed expression of both girls signaled that it wasn’t working. Or, they saw right through it. You just waved a hand and headed for the door, wanting to leave behind all the negative feelings. “Come on, let’s go get something to eat or be anywhere but this bathroom.” A smile crossed your face, somewhat genuine.

“We’re on a diet though.” Yoora reminded you.

“Who cares?” You laughed off.

The older girl rolled her eyes, following behind you with Aina. “See?? It’s this attitude that gets you in trouble!”

Aina shook her head, joining you in laughter as the three of you walked out together.

Hopefully, You thought to yourself. My tears are worth it in the end.

Note: Just a brief note here to let everyone know I changed Ultra Smart’s debut date from 2007 to 2008. This is gonna be the last change I make, sorry for the confusion lol

#idol life.#girl group scenarios #girl group imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #idol oc #idol au #oc group #kpop oc group #kpop au #idol oc group

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flydotnet · 5 years

Text

Tears of Venus

VRAINS Rarepair Weeks 2018-2019 - Day 10: Soulmate AU/Hanahaki

Summary: The first time she heard about the disease of unrequited love was when she was browsing the Internet for some stories to read while waiting for a pirated movie to download on her laptop. It seemed to just be a legend, a trope used by fanfiction writers and mangakas to have some tension, death stakes and angst for their characters’ relations. It was a way to add weight to a situation that, otherwise, may not have had it. This trope, because of its widespread character, was referred to “Hanahaki”. It was merely something to make people’s imaginations work and to break hearts in anticipation and suspense. It was all fiction even if, would she pay attention to probably false witness accounts, some said it was an actual thing, albeit very rare, and whose only cure really was reciprocated love. Ah, as if.

(Or: Ema doesn't believe in urban legends, and it bites her back)

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS Ships: Hireshipping (Ema/Akira), background platonic Ema & Aoi

Wordcount: 4.5K words

Notes: Realizing I'm writing these characters borderline OOC hurt more than it should have. (but hey at least it'll still be more accurate than most DSS-centric depictions of Yusaku and Ryoken amirite)

Y'all saw it coming, I saw it coming, everyone saw it coming, and I'm really proud of bring 4.5K words of Hire Hanahaki angst-H/C-whatever onto the table. This story is a weird mix but it was a blast to write, holy shit, I love angst and I love Hanahaki. But like I'm probably the one who proposed it in the first place for the event's prompt list so... Yeah. That has to be the longest oneshot I've ever written in one sitting.

Also, you'll quickly find out why this fic has a name that has nothing to do with flowers... at first glance.

Event hosted by @vrainsrarepairweeks

AO3 version available here.

The first time she heard about the disease of unrequited love was when she was browsing the Internet for some stories to read while waiting for a pirated movie to download on her laptop. It seemed to just be a legend, a trope used by fanfiction writers and mangakas to have some tension, death stakes and angst for their characters’ relations. It was a way to add weight to a situation that, otherwise, may not have had it.

This trope, because of its widespread character, was referred to “Hanahaki”. It was merely something to make people’s imaginations work and to break hearts in anticipation and suspense. It was all fiction even if, would she pay attention to probably false witness accounts, some said it was an actual thing, albeit very rare, and whose only cure really was reciprocated love.

Ah, as if.

It’s when scrolling through the Internet again that Ema remembers about Hanahaki. She has heard rumours about someone in Den City being afflicted by the curse of flowers growing in their lungs because their beloved doesn’t love them back. It has this sensationalist character to it that makes people instantly intrigued: of course that’d reach her ears and that only sceptical and boring people would ignore it.

Thinking of overly-rational people who tend to see things the boring, practical and down-to-Earth way, she wonders what Akira would think about that. Aoi would be at least intrigued, considering her favourite Monsters are partially based on flowers (Lilybell, Holly Angel, Narkissus, Bella Madonna, Nightshade…), but her brother would most certainly dismiss it as yet another irrational legend. Oh well, it’s funnier to imagine his dismissive reactions to it rather than Aoi’s developing teenage curiosity.

As such, she can’t help herself but mention these in a meeting they have for a new mission he’s giving her for, admittedly, a generous sum of money. If they were near her birthday, she’d see it as a gift: as it stands, it’s probably to be sure she doesn’t go to see if she can extort even more money from businessmen with little hacking knowledge (as it stands, Akira does have some and used to be better than her at it: his knowledge just caught all the dust around the place as soon as he could stop hacking to survive, or so she thinks at least). To be honest, when it comes to their personal relationship, she’s better off getting a bit less money but ensure she can tease her hirer about his awkward side.

“Have you heard about the person in the city who has flowers in their lungs?” she asks him as she thinks back to that story going across Link VRAINS and other social media outlets.

He doesn’t reply immediately, but when he does, it’s just as she expected him to do: “Hanahaki isn’t real, Ema. It’s just rumours going around.”

“I figured you’d respond that. You’re predictable, you know?”

He reddens at the insult before they part ways to go on their merry day and tasks.

Still, it’s quite the heavy tip for what’s that job is worth. It’s simply making sure an AI chip doesn’t go rogue again in his boss’s back. It’s not risky, it’s not the worst he’s asked her to do, and yet he’s paying her extensively. Did he get a rise in his salary or something? Or is it Aoi’s way to thank her yet again for all her services? In both cases, it’s unnecessary and, for once, she doesn’t feel like accepting this big sum. Well, why does she find it so weird? Maybe Akira just overestimated what the job was worth because of all the “doing that in the back of the big boss of a gigantic company” gig.

When she gets paid for it, merely twenty-four hours later, the payment has even more of a tip joined to it, along with what seems to be a virtual present. Okay, that’s it, Akira is really overestimating his missions’ worth and wanting her to stay here. Fine. He better not make such a fuss about it anymore: that’s embarrassing to see him dig his grave even deeper all by himself. She accepts the tip anyway, thinks of what perfume or makeup set she could by herself with it because the ones she has already start to grow old, and settles on something glittery for once.

The rumours precise themselves in the following days. The city now knows who the poor, poor sickie is: a man, presumably old enough to feel love but still young enough to worry himself over romance of all things. That’s all there is to it, but at least people have a precise noun or pronoun to use on that guy. Ema stays alert of it: it’s amusing to see all that speculation for something that has so many chances to turn out to be yet another urban legend spread through the streets and posts on social media. She never expected manga to have such an important cultural impact.

She starts to talk about it with Aoi over the net, the teenage girl being interested in what this is all about. Ema runs her through all she knows about it, from the little things she once read online to what is currently the consensus on today’s legends. A question then comes from Aoi who hesitates between believing in it for its Romanesque nature and doubting it because her brother taught her to be doubtful of everything she hears (even his opinions, but she has forgotten to do that for the most part), an interrogation that should have never interested Ema as much as it did: “Do we know what type of flowers it is? I’ve heard depending on the species that it can be a hint with flower symbolism”.

Frankly, Ema doesn’t know anything about flower language or symbolism because she simply never buys flowers for anyone. The only times she does are when visiting her late father’s grave: she simply does like her mother does every time and put there a bouquet of forget-me-nots. Kengo has a slightly other idea of what to put on there, but she hasn’t taken the time to research it either. They have never discussed it yet: she gives him the time to recover from the idea that they are, indeed, brother and sister and should probably stick together even if he always wants to work alone.

The rumours come to her again when Aoi brings these up herself in their little conversation. According to a few, differing versions, this affected person has yellow carnation, anemones or daffodils growing inside their lungs. Quick searches on the Internet confirm Ema in her idea that this is all an urban legend spread among teenagers and people in need of sensationalism: really, flowers symbolizing unreciprocated love, deadly illness or rejection? Come on, this is too cliché to be real, too much like a poorly-written shojo manga to be happening in her plane of reality. She tells Aoi about that, how artificial it all sounds, how everything is way too much of a coincidence, but the girl still believes this may be happening near her while not giving much details aside from that.

She takes another mission offer from Akira in a green-grassed parc in the city where cherry blossoms punctuate the floor and sky. He seems to not do so hot: if she isn’t mistaken, he’s usually not this pale and doesn’t have such dark rings under his eyes. Considering the recent crises at SOL Technologies which are, undeniably, partially caused by her doings, it wouldn’t be surprising for him to work overtime. He always manages to find a way to run himself to the ground anyway as if he was a fatigue addict. God, she’s glad she didn’t turn out to become a workaholic like him.

He coughs here and there, and that’s when he can’t keep it inside anymore, as he explains to her what it consists in this time. It’s eerily similar to last time, with too much money at the key again, and yet another element that shouldn’t be here: the way he slips in compliments on her capacity and resourcefulness, on how he’s grateful for her to always accept his mission offers. (That last part is wrong: she explicitly remembers turning down one or two offers in the past, and once of them recently on top of it). A sudden excess of gratitude coming from a man who never speaks about himself and his feelings simply gives off a wrong vibe on her? Does he want to seduce her or something? Because that won’t work. As it stands, Ghost Girl doesn’t do romance.

The noise of the ever-going, omnipresent rumours soon inform her of even more details she isn’t asking for. The sick man is in his twenties, working for a company and, as they say, never revealed being infected with the disease to anyone. There is no clear evidence to support these claims, albeit she slowly starts to think about how this description fits Akira more and more. On the other hand, there are a ton of other men in their twenties working for big companies in this city who wouldn’t want anyone to know they’re coughing up flowers of everything a human being could cough out. That’s just unbelievable because of how ridiculous and impossible it sounds.

There is still one picture that doesn’t live her mind. When she was leaving their meeting spot, she swore she could see him bent in half with a hand against a tree, coughing she guessed loudly. While this doesn’t exactly correlate to the rumour in its very details, the coincidence of this urban legend going around and a sudden striking coughing fit like that is still numbing at her mind from time to time during the day. Maybe she should wait for more information about the rumour’s sick man to confirm if this has any chance to be the case.

Well, she’s starting to believe it herself, and she finally understands for the first time was Aoi was willing to consider the possibility of the “Hanahaki Case of Den City” as it’s called to be real. The irony never stops.

Soon enough, before she ever expected it to in fact, she learns of a new aspect of the rumour: the man affected by the case of Hanahaki works for SOL Technologies. Is linked to it a witness account by a secretary of the man who swore she had seen him cough more and more often, along with finding a tissue filled with wet and sometimes bloodied flower petals in his paper bin. That is one coincidence too much: that description would match Akira’s to the point she is certain he’s the basis for it. Maybe that secretary is the original source of the rumour’s more precise details. She has to be for such tiny precisions and descriptions anyway.

It starts to somewhat link inside her mind. He did look ill when they last saw each other, with how pale his skin was and how bad his coughing sounded at times. The more logical explanation – the one he’d take, in fact – is that he simply caught a bad chest infection somewhere, and it has around ninety percent chances to be the case. But then… He wouldn’t be afraid to not being able to thank her enough would it just be an infection like that, wouldn’t it? He sounded like he was going to go soon and never see her again. With how big her latest pay checks from him have been, she doubts it’s because he wants them to part ways.

She gets a text message from “SOL Zaizen” on her phone right as she is about to ask Aoi if she has witnessed anything wrong with her brother. As soon as she opens it, she notices something has to be seriously wrong.

No matter what the offer is this time, she is going in-person to meet him and “discuss” the “matters”.

When she arrives there, Ema gets her breathing stolen. Her footsteps are slow despite how much her mind is racing: he looks even worse than the last time, with a mask on the lower part of his face and deeper dark rings, a sickly red barely visible under the white of the mask, and her heart starts racing because he just seems to be doing terribly. She, however, cannot bring herself to run. How did he even get out of his house in that condition? The world may never know, after all.

“What the hell happened to you?!” is what manages to exit her throat as she walks up to him back against the wall.

“It’s complicated, really… I’ve also got a confession to make: I didn’t want to see you for an offer,” he replies with coughs interrupting his words every ten seconds or so, she isn’t sure, but it’s intense and almost frightening to see.

Ema crosses her arms and waits in anxious anticipation for whatever he has to tell her.

“I’m… not sure of how I should go off about it,” he tells her in full honesty, hand in front of his mouth and the other arm around his chest, “so please excuse my abruptness.”

“You haven’t responded to my question, but go on, I guess.”

“I… I’m not sure how long I’ll last for, so… can you promise me to keep an eye on Aoi and Hayami for me?”

“Hayami is your secretary, right…? Wait, what the fuck are you going on about?!”

Akira gives her an excuse of a smile in return. There really is something wrong with this man.

“A… terminal illness of sorts, let’s put it that way… Which brings to something else I wanted to tell you…”

She cannot tell if his face actually is redder by the minute or if it’s just her noticing how ill he truly is.

“I… I may very well be in love with you, Ema…”

Her world stops and shatters before her eyes. There isn’t a lot of people who truly matter to her in this little sphere of hers: her mother, her late father, her half-brother Kengo, Aoi, perhaps Playmaker for saving her life… and Akira. They have grown closer with the years and it’s only now that she realizes how much he does matter to her and how terribly she is receiving this. A terminal illness, so suddenly, for a man who isn’t even thirty yet? This is… this is awful.

And he’s revealing right here and now why he was being generous these past few days. He knew he was going to die and, perhaps, wanted to please her one last time. She can barely handle the first part of the news: the second is finishing her off. She wants to cry, to deny this as lies, but she knows better than this from Akira: he has never been as dramatic as her, down-to-Earth. For him to tell her all of this, it has to be true and urgent.

Her breathing gets caught in her throat and she cannot find the strength to answer.

Ema externally freezes despite the storm taking place in her skull. Time has stopped and everyone else has disappeared from her consciousness as she helplessly stares, unable to move even a finger, at the man whose breathing suddenly gets worse and whose chest seems to squeeze before her widened eyes.

“I…” She attempts to respond. “I don’t know what to say…” She admits to him and herself all the same.

“It’s fine… I expected this to be sudden and shocking…”

Before he can finish speaking, another coughing fit takes a hold of him to the point of forcing him to uncover the bottom part of his face as to spit something.

Everything shatters when Ema gets to see what’s coming out of his mouth or, to be exact, his lungs.

Flower petals.

Hanahaki is real.

An entire flower tainted in dark reds and smelling like spring and iron.

The Hanahaki Case of Den City isn’t just a legend, and he is the one they were speaking about.

And it’s all because of her.

She swallows a sob back as he puts back his mask and looks at her, eyes glassy and almost unfocused, tempted to look away in shame. This is tragically real, tragically close to home. Fuck this! Fuck this so much, from Hell and back!

“I… I’m sorry for this, very much so, Ema,” he tells her as he goes from supporting himself with an arm against the wall to doing so with his back leaning against it instead.

She timidly picks up the entire flower and tries to identify it.

“It’s an anemone,” he attempts to state very calmly, as if to ease her back into what she’s used to, but it’s all a failed façade.

Ema then remembers what she read online and what Aoi told her before: anemones are a symbol of death, illness and forsaken love depending on cultures. She can distinguish a faint blue hue to the one she has in her hand.

“I have to go,” he suddenly tells her in a faint and groggy voice, starting to lose his capacity to speak, “please take care, Ema…”

“I promise I’ll watch over Aoi for you, then,” she tries to look stoic when she just wants to cry. “Please… take care too, Akira,” she continues and ends her sentence as her legs finally move and take her away from the scene.

Another timid, sad smile.

Her mind blanks during her trip back home on her bike, but as soon as she reaches her flat, all her tears fall from her eyes and trail on her cheeks. She pathetically lets her helmet go, takes off her shoes and lets herself fall onto her bed. She is causing another person’s death without ever meaning to, and one she cares about on top of it. Fuck. Akira deserved better than that kind of cruel and unusual death.

But there is nothing she can do about it, isn’t there? It’s uncurable and terminal unless feelings are returned, and there’s where it stings. She doesn’t love him the way he loves her: she has prevented herself from falling in love with anyone as to protect herself from heartbreak and ex-partner drama. She cannot respond back and that’s what is killing him.

This is all her fault, all her goddamn fault!

She’s surprisingly dramatic and heartbroken about it, for someone who has already lost her father to an illness. She remembers being torn and extremely saddened for a few days following his demise, crying after him even, but she cannot for the life of her figure out why this is also such a tragedy with Akira. They’re friends, at best. Shady friends making unwritten contracts behind everyone’s backs, but friends and that’s it.

That’s surprisingly hurtful to hear herself think.

She needs to calm down and think the situation through. Panicking and choking on her sobs isn’t going to make anything better. She gets up and paces in her flat, trying to piece together every fragment of her feelings she can decipher as to paint a global picture of her part of the situation. It’s a giant mess she’s facing with all the disdain she can have towards herself for never cleaning it up before today. Clean your room, they said.

There is no denial that she does care for Akira enough not to want to seem him go so early. Wait, early? That means she wants to spend more time with him, just like friends do. So, they’re friends, that’s for sure. Comparing to her other friends, she finds herself thinking more of what she felt towards now ex-partners… In a way, when she was surprised to hear him confess his love to her, a part of herself seemed to have rejoiced, or rather, to have been relived. That doesn’t make sense with all the sorrow she feels! Why would she be happy to be the reason why he’s dying young after spending so long trying to survive in the streets with a six-year-old under his wing?!

…Oh.

Ema smashes her fist into a wall she finally, finally understands everything. Of course, of course that had to turn out to be denial all along! If she was so broken, so glitched out when learning of his upcoming death and how she was its cause, it was because she had, all along, wanted to be the cause of this. Well, not that way, but she was hiding her feelings to herself to avoid heartbreak again. If nobody could love her because she was shady and prone to backstabbing, when why should she allow herself to fall in love with others?

And then came in Akira, and everything fell apart because that illness, eventually, means nothing. It has no place to be because she has just learnt how things truly were: he’s in love with her, and she’s in love with him, and it’s all going to go down the sewer if she doesn’t do something soon. She has the power to change the tide, to prevent his early death. She needs to act, quickly.

She gets out her phone and gives him a last meeting time.

The meeting happens the day right after, and she can guess by how he didn’t have any issue to respond “yes” to her pleas that he has been given an illness break by SOL Technologies (hah, surprising). To be fair, if Ema had made sure her motorcycle was all charged up, it was to ensure she could make it quickly to the hospital or the Zaizen flat in case everything would fall apart. As it turns out, she sees a familiar room and an even more familiar face come out of it.

Instead of waiting next to the tree where he asked her for the first time to do a mission for him and where he told her he loved her, she runs up to him in a worried hurry. Despite his bittersweet smile and his ever-so polite “Hello, Ema”, she feels how fragile he is in her arms, how she feels like she’s handling a crystal statue who matters so much to her, a statue she has fragilized by her own hands without meaning to. She has, after all, never truly wanted to destroy people, merely play with them and maybe be a bit mischievous. She wanted to be Aphrodite, to play with men and their desires and their capacity to spend money on her, not Death and her scythe reminding people of how feelings can suck.

But she’s no goddess.

Won over by the one naïve about love guy she’s met, that’s what she is.

They sit down on a bench, his head on her shoulder because she’s afraid he won’t stand on his own in his spot of the bench if he doesn’t have some support, his unnatural body heat piercing through her clothes. That’s ironic to say the least. Despite how simplistic it seems to say three words to someone, she’s still hesitant and doesn’t know how Akira, the always-stiff man with zero skill in romance, has managed to pull this off. Her pride vanished the moment she knew she was killing him from the inside: she has nothing keeping her away from it, except maybe her guilt that doesn’t waver.

“How many days do you have left?” she asks instead, out of concern and morbid curiosity as to tell herself that, maybe, later, she’ll be able to be cocky about how narrow she saved someone from his death.

“They told me a week at most, probably less” he replies with his voice even weaker than yesterday’s, a petal exiting his lips. “I didn’t expect you to call me again so soon… My doctor will be mad to learn that I’ve come outside to meet up with you… Haha…”

Why does he everything he say or do break her heart, these days?

Ema looks down, her sins facing her directly in the face.

“Akira, I’m not sure how I should tell you this knowing what’s going on with you,” she continues as earnest she could be. Her pride really ran away on her.

“It’s fine… I’m glad I didn’t scare you away yesterday… You seemed so shaken…”

“You’re not allowed to worry for me when you’re about to die, you… fool.”

Insulting the dying isn’t very cool either, Ema, you should know that.

“What I mean is that I have to tell you something too personal for it to be said on the network. It’d break its meaning.”

He sighs. She can just feel how weak his breathing has become over the past weeks through this single exhale and how barely audible it is. Declaring her love to a shadow hurts.

“It’s fine if you can’t do it anything about it… Just protect Aoi for me…”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

Despite his heavily weakened condition, she can still see how surprised he is to hear her say that. He should know better than anyone else that Ghost Girl can do anything. She excuses it for today, forever even, and holds her hand in his.

“I wish I could have been more dramatic than this, like I usually am, but this is an urgent matter and I won’t let you slip away from me so easily when it’d be easy to win against the illness,” she starts rambling almost as a way to shield herself from her own words.

Funny enough how curing his Hanahaki case seems so easy all of a sudden. She glances at him to see his eyes desperately trying to focus on her.

“I love you too, Akira.”

There is a single, then a couple tears exiting his eyes as she finishes to tell that, and he somehow finds the strength to grip her hand as he coughs out what she guesses to be the last anemone to ever reside in his lungs without rotting away. She doesn’t know how the flowers in his lungs are going to fade away, but that’s not what matters for now.

She enlaces him from his side and pulls her against her own body, feeling the fever disappear in moments, breathing starting to sound normal again. He looks exhausted from fighting the illness, she is herself tired from crying and panicking, the smothering anxiety and fear of death soon to come taking their toll on them both.

“Could you… stay over for the night?” He asks her as he’s falling asleep. “The driver must still be here…”

“My pleasure,” she answers. “Let’s get there before I have to carry you like my bride to bed.”

As she carries him on her shoulder again, they leave behind a trail of pale blue petals smelling like copper and iron. The last one people will ever see, she hopes. The last ones she’ll see for sure.

End Notes

Writing about Akira almost dying is my new specialty.

#vrains #hireshipping #hanahaki #vrainsrarepairweeks #my writing

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orbyssarchives · 6 years

Text

A Brief tl;dr

This is probably a lot to say for 20 unfinished webcomic pages and I know I can be fairly long-winded so if you just wanna skip ahead and click through the pictures I’ve put up, I understand.

The TL;DR is

Hello and welcome to Mage Punk Archives! My name is Tables and this is some of the work that I’ve done over the last few years and what I’ve been up to in my little corner of the world. This is the third and last of a series of posts, outlining a number of updates that I completed on the site.

Included are some of my inspirations and a little of what I’ve learned so far about myself as an ever growing artist up to this point.

After this, I want to keep the content more focused on the actual art and story.

I’ll post to this site as often as I am able.

Thanks for reading!

***

Long Ago, Before the miracle of handheld internet searches and Instagram

When I was but a young, internet webling, I was heavily into shitty online flash games and looking for anything even remotely related to my interests at the time. From Mario and Sonic to various comics, videos games, anime and things never to be said aloud (pornpornporn). My love of the likes of Super Mario Bros and Sonic the Hedgehog (big fandoms for me at the time) would later lead me to sprite comics. Today, my feelings for the little hodge podge collage strips of old video game sprite sheets and backgrounds are a little mixed.

(They were beautiful and I’m gonna make one someday)

Then, in Highschool, I took a basic Web Design class. It was a VVoid World Web of Notepad and Internet Explorer where a kindly old crone passed on to those of us there, some knowledge of the ancient runic language which forms the foundations of the World Wide Web: HTML. Tables, frames, css, oh my! This knowledge would eventually prove invaluable.

Throughout our studies we were occasionally allowed to venture out into the Wider World Web. It was during these little adventures and travels across the Web that I happened upon the magical land of Webcomics. It was also during this time that I began break free of the enchantment of sprites. Even though I would probably never return to them, they would always hold a special place in my heart.

The Internet is for [Comics]

Webcomics – Synonymous with “Masochism”

At first, I had no idea just how grueling webcomics could be. Most webcomic artists pump out pages one to three times a week. At the time I got into them, MegaTokyo, then still partially a video game webcomic, was just releasing its third printed book; 2-3 updates a week with a loosely set schedule. Evan Dahm was wrapping up his surreal fantasy epic, Rice Boy; with updates consistently going up Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. The various sprite and drawn webcomics that I was following at the time were updating all the time. Seeing all the great work going up, I felt encouraged to try it myself.

I drew these closer to the end of my junior year of high school.

Desu

Taking major inspiration from a lot of the manga and anime that I was enjoying then, I used pen and ink to make my comic pages. I liked working in black and white because it felt direct and skipping on color made it easier to finish faster. I figured I could work faster if I didn’t have to worry about the extra step. When I did want to use color, as is typical for the early pages of a new manga, I used markers.

At the time, I had no idea that mangakas used assistants. That’s messed up.

Not to say that it was completely unrealistic, but back in the real world I could only average one black and white page a week. If even. The spider webs I was drawing all over were so that I wouldn’t have to use a ruler to draw my panel proper borders. I thought it gave the comic an “old archive”. In the end, I concluded that the spider webs should have their place and not be all over.

This time, I decided to work a little more carefully and deliberately.

Moving Forward

It was going pretty well but by the time page 7 rolled around, it was time for midterms and I had become too self-conscious and uncomfortable with the way I was drawing my comic pages then. Then, it was time to take finishing high school seriously and before I knew it, I was a freshman at The Art Institute of Fort Lauderdale. I did a lot of growing in the next four years that I attended there. Unfortunately, I never revisited those pages. Instead, near the end of my sophomore year, I took a Sequential Art class where the Final was a full-color, 5-page comic.

These are the ink-wash versions of the 7-page Final that I submitted. I’d originally colored them digitally to meet project requirements but I don’t want to post those just yet..

In the End

I wasn’t satisfied. The truth was that I waited until the last minute, rushed it, and over-reached on a re-draw that wasn’t much fun for me to work on. During the course of that Sequential Art class my professor turned my attention to artists like Moebius and Mike Mignola. I also came across Katsuya Terada’s stuff around this time.

And school went on…

I worked on Mage Punk when I could between assignments.

Between thinking I could possibly work on a for-print comic…

…and a webcomic at the same time.

The End was Near

Most of these were actually made towards the end of my four years at Ai. Those of us graduating were tasked with compiling our work from the years past in accordance with the requirements for obtaining our degrees. I believe that we were given two semesters to gather our pieces and do any revisions to previous works to get them up to date with the rest of the portfolio piece. Illustration Graduates at AiFL were typically required to gather a required selection of their work into an on-demand printed book. The year that I graduated, my department decided to change things around a little. Specifically, we were given the option to collect the requirement work into a plain black binder portfolio and make the printed book more geared towards our pursuits. I opted to make a Mage Punk/Orbyss Archives “Zine” as my main portfolio piece.

And Then College was Over

I drew a few more pages of the comic until I became employed full-time. These days, there aren’t enough free hours in my days for me to keep up with any typical webcomic’s update schedule so for a long while I stopped working on the comic altogether. I’m squeezing as much work out of every second that I’m not there; with whatever energy I can muster. This includes planning, writing, sketching and drawing. Before I got back to work on the site, I was posting fairly regularly to my Twitter and Instagram; those posts took time to do as well.

Most of this post was written in separate sessions on my commutes to work.

“Shortcuts”

Even though I always wanted to present Mage Punk as a webcomic, I always worked on it like it would go to print eventually. This created a confusing mindset for me when working on the comic, where I had to work on a whole book, but I have to rush to finish every page. If I wanted to put out pages more frequently I took shortcuts at any point I could to be done with them. Even if I created a good buffer of finished pages, I’d still run into that same pitfall eventually. I wasn’t enjoying my project because of a pressure I applied on myself to finish it in a way I wasn’t necessarily comfortable with. I didn’t even get that much done in the end.

It’s important that I work on it at a pace that lets me show the best of my ability. I would love it if I could be properly finished with the pages before I post them but if I wait before it’s all good and done I’ll just never get around to posting anything, forever floating, aimlessly, throughout creative internet limbo.

Instead, if I have to work on my comic in piecemeal, I’ll just post it up in piecemeal. Mage Punk will still be presented as a webcomic but, until the end of the book is done, certain changes are still a possibility. Editing is an important part of producing any book and I’m going to make its presentation reflect that.

Cue Rhidiculous shouting “I told you so!” from some nearby bushes.

A Webcomic in Presentation Only?

Those Two Images are the Same Page

Instead of trying to finish things at breakneck speeds, I’m going to work on the comics at a more reasonable pace. I’ll try to work on it mainly Chapter to chapter instead of page to page like how a webcomic normally is done (buffers aside) This gives me the opportunity to take a step back and get a broader look at the story while still putting out content in enjoyable chunks.

It’s difficult for me to wrap my head around drawing a comic on a start-to-finish, page-by-page basis. While I was working on the later pages in the chapter I kept finding myself jumping around and making changes to previous pages to make some things more consistent with later parts of the story. Instead of working page-by-page, I was editing the chapter as a whole to try to strengthen the narrative I’m trying to tell.

To that end, I still want to present it on this site as a webcomic; if only in name and archive.

The Process

At the VERY longtime behest of my editor, I’ll be presenting the comic as a work in progress at various points in the following production stages.

Writing

I’ll post dialog excerpts here and there. Nothing that can spoil the story too much.

This step will be kept largely behind the scenes.

Thumbnails

I do these on index cards in ballpoint pen to figure out the sequence of events that I most prefer.

This is the step where I’m prone to overloading a page with information.

First Drafts

Full size roughs of the earlier thumbnails. This step helps me get a better sense of how crowded or unbalanced a page might be early on.

This step also helps to prune out any strenuous scenes or dialog that could otherwise have their own pages.

If it isn’t working visually at this point, it’s not going to work in the next step.

Pencils

This is where the real drawing happens. Drawings in this step are made by either digital or traditional means depending on when or where I’m working.

Inking

This step is exactly like the drawing step but in pen and ink. Despite my affinity for real pen and ink, I’ll mainly be working this step digitally.

Color

This step is wrought with indecision but it also one of the faster, more fun steps to do.

Lettering

I’ve removed the dialog from all the pages currently up, opting to keep that out until a chapter is completed; it’s the thing I’m likeliest to change the most frequently until the end.

All lettering is currently done digitally but I’m considering the possibility of hand lettering.

Drawing dialog can be quite fulfilling but it takes a lot of practice.

Editing

This part will be happening all throughout. Page re-orders, panel redraws, changes in dialog.

Until the book is done.

Here We Are

I’ve already made some revisions to a handful of the pages that are already up; if you browse through the comics you can see the revisions noted in the comic descriptions. I’ll make blog posts for any major revisions or series of revisions that I do. I have a few ideas for some smaller projects that I can work on while I work on Mage Punk. Whether they be illustrations, stories, or even mini-comics like this silly thing down here.

Moving on

I might have also mentioned before that I have a few other drawings that I wanted to make for the site. In particular I have a neat idea for some social media icon illustrations. I wanna make something that takes advantage of what I’ve learned with using CSS. It’s nothing too fancy.

All that said, future posts will be a bit more brief than these last three were. I’d much rather write and post about the work itself, but I feel like I’ve hit a personal milestone and felt the need to ramble on about it a little.

Until next time,

Thanks for reading!

The Big Site Update (Part 3) A Brief tl;dr This is probably a lot to say for 20 unfinished webcomic pages and

#Comics #Process #Social Media #Website #WIP

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thisweekingundamwing · 6 years

Text

TWIGW: November 25 - December 2

This has been a great week in our fandom!

Please please send love to all the amazing creators. Comments are like fandom food so keep our creators inspired and well fed!

Thank you all for all your wonderful creations.

-Mod Maeve

Please don’t forget to check the warnings!

Fanfiction:

@amberlyinviolet , yourbloodlikewine

In This Light Chapter 11

Duo spent the last semester working in his older brother's coffee shop. He's resigned himself to a boring spring when a stranger appears, shaking up his entire life.Eli left home last fall, choosing to spend the last six months living out of his van on his travels from the Midwest to the East Coast. By the time he arrives at Ink's, the novelty of traveling alone has started to wear off. Still, the last thing he's expecting is to meet someone who's going to change all that for him.

Duo Maxwell/Original Male Character(s)Trowa Barton/Original Male Character(s)Solo Maxwell/Original Male Character

Rape/Non-Con, child abuse mention, Sexual Assault Mention, homophobic parents, Re-Written Characters, Drug Use, Violence, off screen murder, gratuitous author indulgence

@anaranesindanarie

Death Unspeaking Chapter 8

What happens when a Gundam Pilot is mute? What happens when the other Pilots look down at him because of it? Will he overcome the odds or will the odds overcome him? For Manny who encouraged me to work on this.

Trowa Barton/Duo Maxwell

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage

@claraxbarton

Cocktail Friday: Sunset

Response to the Cocktail Friday prompt on Tumblr.

1x2

One Night in Spain

Years after the war, Wufei reconnects with an old acquaintance.(Is this seriously almost the same summary that I used for Kangofu-CB's birthday fic????)For an amazing, talented, generous and wonderful friend.

Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton/Relena Peacecraft

drakanyst

g.h.o.s.t. Chapter 2

It started as some fun with equations, patching and brainstorming on an idea that had been scrapped by the gundam scientists before completion. Now, the project has taken on a life of its own. For a brief period, the five former Gundam pilots enjoy the fruits of what proves to be a powerful training platform. When the virtual reality interface is shared with a limited run of Preventers recruits, a domino effect begins that nobody is ready for. One braided adrenaline junky is caught in the middle of it, looking for answers to questions that come at a price. What is happening with the isolated program Yukio? And why do the riots and mass murders blossoming all over L3 mirror a VR instance? Is the platform emulating the life it is witnessing, vice versa.. or something else entirely?

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

TBA - Relationship

@duointherain

Not Quite Single Chapter 6

It's nearly a hundred years after the wars. Tech has kept all the boys healthy and young. While on a salvage mission, Duo recovers Steve Rogers. James Barnes has been Heero's colleague for over twenty years. There are a lot of misunderstandings. The fork in chapter two made me laugh. :)

Duo Maxwell/Heero YuyJames "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

IsolaVirtuosa

Unlikely Office Romances

Dr. Heero Yuy, Preventers forensics expert, can’t seem to get over his crush on his former wartime comrade Agent Duo Maxwell. Duo can’t seem to stand the sight of him… and yet…?

Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy

@kangofu-cb

Don't You Know

Cop!Duo meets SpecialAgent!Wufei in this fluffy rom-com.

Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell

lil_1337

Gundam Wing Month - 2017

A collection of drabbles and short fics posted one a day for the month of November in celebration of Gundam Wing Month.

Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner, Chang Wufei/Relena Peacecraft, Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy

luvsanime02

How Far to Fall

Trowa surprises Relena with a picnic. Written for the December 1st Cocktail Party prompt

Trowa Barton/Relena Peacecraft

Tangled Web of Natural Oddities Chapter 10

Unnatural NovemberSummaryOne town, and a whole tangled web of supernatural beings. It's not surprising that people come to expect the unexpected there.

Alternate Universe - Supernatural ElementsLanguageHumorVampiresShapeshiftingGhostsMythical Beings & CreaturesWerewolves

Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton/Relena Peacecraft, Dorothy Catalonia/Lady Une, Catherine Bloom/Hilde Schbeiker, Chang Wufei/Long Meilan/Sally Po, Zechs Merquise/Lucrezia Noin

Hot Toddies and Cold Nights

Trowa's making some toddies, and knows that he won't be alone for long. Cocktail Friday

Engage Chapter 6

The time has come for all of their plans to finally start being put into motion.This is the eighth story in Navigation, a fem!Heero series.

Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Character Death

Maldoror_Chant

Freeport Chapter 13

Freeport colony: a notorious den of pirates, smugglers and thieves. Wufei persuades one of its denizens, his one-time ally Duo, to help him catch a killer hiding there. Agent Chang thinks he knows what to expect from this case, from Freeport and from Duo Maxwell. He couldn't be more wrong.

socio-politics with violence and hot guys, Blood and Violence, no EW, Slow Burn

Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell

The Source of All Things Chapter 13

Center, a planet where magic and technology blend. Or more accurately, fight tooth and nail. A planet of Sources, holes in our boring dimension letting through arcane power, chaos and pseudo-deities. In this hot-house of myths and very real dangers, Trowa and Quatre find a mysterious man at the end of a shamanic voyage. Portents suggest this Heero Yuy is crucial to Center’s survival. He’s important enough to have some interesting enemies after him, at any rate: a devious killer and thief called ‘Shinigami’, and a very irate Dragon. Beyond them looms an even greater threat. Indeed, the greatest of them all.(Alternative Universe, far-flung future sci-fi/fantasy. There are elements from the anime that exist here, albeit in very different forms; Gundam mechas, Zero, and lovely G-boys for instance. They are perhaps a universal constant we are not yet aware of. This fic was original started over a decade ago. It has been heavily rewritten and should now be eventually finished)

3x4, 2x5, 1x2x5

Graphic Depictions Of Violence

The Manwell (Manniness)

Tomb Raiders Chapter 28

Trowa Barton was an orphan raised by South African mercenaries. Duo Maxwell was the son of a British lord. Not only were these two teenage boys destined to fall in love, but they were destined to save the world. Tomb raider style.AU 2x3x2 YAOI Duo/TrowaWarnings: Alternate universe fic, language, shounen ai, yaoi (male/male sex), angst, character death, reference to torturePromises: No non-consensual or underage sex!! None of the pilots will die!! Cross my heart...Notes: Very, very loosely based on the movie “Lara Croft: Tomb Raider” and, just like in the movie, no actual tombs are raided in this story. Heh. (^_~)v

Trowa Barton/Duo Maxwell

@ransomedbard

Arbiter Chapter 2

After an accident in space, Duo learns that he cannot permanently die - but every resurrection comes at a terrible cost for those around him. As he learns the extent of his powers, he struggles with the temptation to misuse them, and to find meaning in his devastating ‘gift’. His secret drives him away from the other pilots, even as he comes to realize his own loneliness and need for their friendship.

Resurrection, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence of the bullets and blood variety

Shinohoshi13

By Demons Be Driven Chapter 2

For years she struggled to live, burdened by a long-forgotten past, an unclear present, and a non-existent future. War consumes her life, forcing her to live as if every day is her last. Fate has seen fit to gift her with unnatural abilities far beyond the normal human capacity. With those abilities, she leads a daily game of tag, putting her life on the line over and over again. Will a chance meeting with a young man give this tired young woman the will to keep fighting? And with the war escalating higher and higher, will she have the time to find out who, and what, she really is?

OCx05; slight implied 01x02, 03x04, 06x13; one-sided Rx01

Relena bashing, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Adult Content, Crude Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Strong Language, Torture, Violence, Psychological Horror, Magical Realism

StarLove18

Cuddle

Sometimes, what we fight for can bring peace. Peace also has a way of creating stress.

Trowa Barton & Chang Wufei & Duo Maxwell & Quatre Raberba Winner & Heero Yuy

Implied/Referenced Drug Use, My First Work in This Fandom

@vegalume

Collide - the teaser

This is the first in a series of small ficlets that will lead up to the full story.The ficlets take place on an alternate timeline that parallels some of the most important events of the series, beginning shortly after Heero is first sent to Earth. They focus on the relationship between Treize and Heero.Tags for the entire 'Collide' Series. See the notes for warnings specific to that part.

Treize Khushrenada/Heero Yuy

Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage, Alternate Timeline, possible parallel universe?, Angst, Death, Blood, Suicide Attempts, Romance, Eventual Smut, Humor

Collide - the first ficlet

This is the second in a series of small ficlets that will lead up to the full story.The ficlets take place on an alternate timeline that parallels some of the most important events of the series, beginning shortly after Heero is first sent to Earth. They focus on the relationship between Treize and Heero. The ficlets may appear disjointed (which is why they're not part of the main story). Tags for the entire 'Collide' Series. See the notes for warnings specific to that part.

Collide - The Second Ficlet

This is the third in a series of small ficlets that will lead up to the full story.The ficlets take place on an alternate timeline that parallels some of the most important events of the series, beginning shortly after Heero is first sent to Earth. They focus on the relationship between Treize and Heero. Tags for the entire 'Collide' Series. See the notes for warnings specific to that part.

Collide - The Third Ficlet

This is the fourth in a series of small ficlets that will lead up to the full story.The ficlets take place on an alternate timeline that parallels some of the most important events of the series, beginning shortly after Heero is first sent to Earth. They focus on the relationship between Treize and Heero. The ficlets may appear disjointed (which is why they're not part of the main story). Tags for the entire 'Collide' Series. See the notes for warnings specific to that part.

Whenpigsfly84

Doormat Babe Chapter 5

A mysterious child is left with Duo one morning. As he seeks for answers he'll have to face his past and prepare for a haunting future he'd never expected. Will he be able to reconnect with old friends or will he lose all those he loves?

Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy, Chang Wufei/Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner

Drama, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Swearing, Summary

xX_Rabble_Rouser_Xx

Birthday From Hell

It's not that Duo Maxwell is INCAPABLE of celebrating a birthday like a reasonable person, he just REFUSES to celebrate Heero Yuy’s birthday normally.

Humor, Pranks, Birthdays, with friends like this who needs enemies??

Snippets:

@anaranesindanarie

1x2x6 OR 2x6 “liar” Prompt Response

@claraxbarton

WIP Screenshot

@lifeaftermeteor

LAM!verse NYC Branch Office, New York, New York, 30 November 207

@remsyk-blog

Cocktail Friday- Grounded

@treizes-heero

Moving in Prompt

@vegalume

Title: Collide

Pairing: Treize x Heero

Working title: STAR

Main pairing Duo x Heero - additional pairings 2xoc, 3x4 & 5xR

@weiclown

WIP sentence

Headcanons / Meta / Discussions:

@lelola

GW Logic

Wufei’s Response to Treize

Cell Animation in GW

Lady Une’s Portrayal

Duo Maxwell Reaction Scene Question

Heero and Quatre Zero System scene

Trowa and the Zero System

Wing Zero Reaction

Zechs and Relena Reuniting

Relena’s Pep Talk

@lifeaftermeteor

What Duo Smells Like

@fadedsepia

Episode 5

@outofworkshinigami

Treize’s worries about his personality change . . .

(Warning: Abuse mentions) How Treize and Vingt were abused

Fanart / Screencaps / Images:

@ashley-kuo

Rx1 Married Sims Screenshots

@bassrocks

Duo Maxwell drawing

@comics-and-things

Zech Merquise image compilation

@downwarddnaspiral

Zechs for @chronicwhimsy‘s birthday

@duointherain

Quatre Giving Wufei a Christma Gift

@hainekoken

Relena Peacecraft

@innergeekdesigns

Gundam T-shirt designs

@kangofu-cb

Heero Yuy

Duo Maxwell

Trowa Barton

Modern Quatre

Prevent Agent Chang Wufei

Officer Hilde Schbeiker

@lelola

Duo’s Expression Screencap

@lifeaftermeteor

Christmas Tree Topper Image

@musinglink

Gundam Wing Cover Art

@noelleian

Trowa and Quatre after their brush with Zero

Lady Une (apologies as this was accidentally misattributed initially!)

@outofworkshinigami

Sanc Treize

Commission for @cylinanightshade (NSFW, Quatre, Heero,Trowa)

@some--newtype--bullshit

Headshot Club

@the-cats-curse

Gundam Deathscythe

@thereasonsimbroke

Gundam Battle Damage

@vegalume

1x13 sketch

Heero, Trowa, Quatre WIP Embroidery

Invader Zim Quotes Set

Invader Zim Quotes 12

Invader Zim Quotes 11

Invader Zim Quotes 10

Invader Zim Quotes 9

Invader Zim Quotes 8

Invader Zim Quotes 7

Invader Zim Quotes 6

@yesacias-sketchbook

Relena WIP

@zer0-system

Mpreg Duo

Heero Doodle

Heero Lineart

Mpreg Duo

Gundam Wing Haul image

Heero Yuy Line Art

Heero, Trowa, Duo Sketch

Quotes:

@helmistress

Relena Darlian, Ep 14

Calendar Events:

Unnatural November by @gwblockparty

Ending November 30th

A fanworks celebration of all things weird and supernatural.

Participation information here!

AO3 collection here!

Eve War Event by @gw-evewar

Posting December 23rd - December 24th.

A fanworks Science Fiction event.

Participation information here!

Cocktail Friday by @thisweekingundamevents

Prompts post every Monday, submissions to be posted the following Friday from 3-5pm EST

Fun, open participation

Fics, ficlets, art, anything at all welcome!

Gundam Wing Secret Santa Exchange by @gwsecretsantaexchange

All assignments are out!

Remember to keep your recipient a secret!

Gifts should be posted and tagged December 20th - 24th

If you need to drop out for any reason (life happens!) please let the Secret Santa blog know as soon as possible!

Thank you all for a wonderful week!

#thisweekingundamwing

33 notes · View notes

one-of-us-must-be-crazy · 6 years

Text

Master Post of Human/Synth Novels & Stories

As requested

Defy the Stars by Claudia Grey:

A YA space opera with Noemi, a young woman of color as the main character. She enlists in what is essentially a suicide mission as she struggles with her faith on a distant planet trying to free itself from the grasps of tyranny. When she ends up trapped on a ship with an damaged android named Abel, the slow burn starts. While slow-burn romance is there from the start, it also explores themes of faith, loyalty, belonging, and political autonomy while still foremost being an action/adventure story. At the end of the day its probably the most light-hearted novel on this list, and is also the opening of a trilogy. There’s moments of heart and humor and hope, and its just the most delightful YA sci-fi I’ve ever read.

Silver Metal Lover by Tanith Lee:

If read as a fairytale/wish-fulfillment romance novel written in the early 1980′s, its a very bittersweet and enjoyable little book. Defiantly something I personally would have better enjoyed reading in scret as a 16 year old in the back of the library between classes, it feels like its aimed at mature, but still teenage readers. Despite the weirdness of it and the oddness of the characters, Tanith Lee was a true master of her craft. Genuine Cult-Classic ........Also he fantasy elements of it would make for a GREAT a/u backdrop for any fanfic writers btw; send a link my way if you should try that.

Alpha by Taylor Hohulin:

I have yet to read this one myself, but it keeps turning up on indie sci-fi lists and on lists of book of AI. Still I feel morally obligated to mention it as it’s android is pining after a female engineer/mechanic and boy oh boy do I think a few of us are lighting up at that.

Cinder (The Lunar Chronicles #1) by Merissa Meyer:

Technically this is about a cyborg, but I can think of 12 people that would murder me if I didn’t include this. Cinder’s cyborg components have made her the best mechanic in New Beijing, and its a position that lets her meet the prince one day on fluke. The love story takes a back seat however when her youngest stepsister takes ill with a strange plague and the real technical intrigue begins. It’s loosely based off of Cinderella, but don’t let the book cover full you it is REALLY loosely based off of Cinderella. The entire series is a scifi/action update of fairytales, which might appeal to some of you more than the purer sci-fi out there.

Autonomous by Annalee Newitz

Not everyone’s cup of tea, I will say that first and foremost. Its brutal, and the love story in it is nearly painfully cruel at the start. However it looks like an opener to a series that will be increasingly better as it goes on, and has garnered some STELLAR critical reviews.

Aliens: Defiance, volumes one and two by Brian Wood:

Do yourselves a favor as fans of the Alien universe and give these a read. You don’t need to know anything about the other comics or films really; these make for a very solid story on their own. Zula Hendricks, a wounded Colonial Marine who’s still trying to prove that a five-foot-two 23 year old black woman can be valuable as a soldier, goes on a failed mission from her base at Luna. Without too many spoilers, I’ll say that the following plot and premise is that she and a rogue Marine Synthetic named Davis01 go on their own mission to hunt xenomorphs in wreckage of old ships to prevent the company from getting their hands on one. BONUS: Amanda Ripley has a couple cameos in volume one.

The Mad Scientist’s Daughter by Cassandra Rose Clarke:

A young woman emotionally hollowed out by a childhood of isolation capped off by grief of a deceased parent, grows increasingly attached to her father’s mysterious assistant, an android named Finn. Its a dark story despite being a love story; and most complaints of the novel are about how Cat, the main character, is weak and just goes in whatever direction she’s pushed--her surface selfishness comes from her own inability to see meaning at all in life, which becomes more obvious as the story goes on. She’s a severely emotionally damaged character who tries to suppress most of her feelings and force herself to want normalcy--but this makes the moments later on when she does let herself lash out, and begin acting on her own all the more powerful. Clarke has also written another (and much more grandly fantastic) novel involving advanced AI, Our Lady of the Ice but the primary love stories in it are human/human.

Glitch by N. M. Lombardi:

By our very own, and sadly deleted, blog many-storied, author of the fanfic “Noble Heart” that I have suggested to anyone in this fandom with a soul. Glitch is a long short story/novella about the damaged Gabriel, an android used by a sadistic wealthy owner, and Marguerite, who’s used to androids (actually called synthetics in the story) who can’t feel pain or fear trying to help him reach reality again. As she works with him she begins to question the possibility that he’s sentient, and he starts to learn the rest of the spectrum of emotions.

UPCOMING

Heart of Iron by Ashley Poston:

Ana has grown up with her closest friend--and now love interest-- the sentient android, D09. Rescued with him as a child, by a rough crew of space pirates she now calls her family, issues begin to arise in the galactic kingdom threatening their lives. And on top of that D09 has begun to glitch...and since the banning of androids, there are precious few ways to help him.... I for one am SUPER HYPED FOR ITS RELEASE and will keep you updated as I find more information on it.

Notes:

Links go to GoodReads and I make zero dollars and zero cents off these titles if you choose purchase one or all of them.

Please use GoodReads at your own discretion becuase readers are not required to rate novels based anything more than “i don’t like scifi, one star.” Please use it as a guide and not for making the final choice to read it or not.

I tried not to include any cyborgs, other than where noted, since cyborgs are still born human, and also avoided books that are strictly erotica.

#alien #robots #androids #books #YA #book suggestions

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