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aurumalatus · 1 day

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𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝟏]

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 1.5k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection, mentions of abuse/alcoholism

summary.

in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.

author's note. first meetings and a slight introduction to our characters! i imagine each drabble will have a pretty varying length, so this one is a bit on the shorter side! either way, i hope you enjoy :) interaction is highly appreciated!

↢ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗜𝗥𝗦𝗧 𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗘

Kinich meets you in the spring.

The air is warm and balmy that day, with a breeze that brushes by the skin with pleasant coolness. His mother likes to take him to the market with her on days like these, probably for his own good. She tells him he’s a bit unsociable for his age, not that he disagrees—he just doesn’t see any point in changing. He does just fine spending his days at home, exploring the land around his house.

This kind of weather brings everyone outside, which leaves the market bustling—sellers scream their prices and show off their wares, and buyers haggle until their wallets are empty. He walks around with his mother for a bit, one hand gripping her skirt, and she offers him bits of candy and other treats. He rejects them all; really, he doesn’t want for much.

Still, he’s a more independent child, so eventually his mother leaves him to explore the various market stands while she goes around buying the more “boring” items. She probably hopes that he’ll make a friend or two, but he never does—most of the children don’t play in this area. They prefer to play with the Yumkasauri near the outskirts of the tribe.

Either way, he does end up looking around for a bit. Yanta, an elderly woman that sells fruit, gives him some berries to try, and he leaves with his tongue sweetened. He peers at some of the climbing gear, too, with astronomical prices that he would never be able to afford—at least not while his father gambles every Mora away. As the time passes, the crowd starts to get a bit stifling, so Kinich wanders away in search of a quieter place.

He settles for one of the walkways outside of the market, letting his legs dangle over the edge so he can look down at the river. There’s Yumkasauri whelps playing below, bumping each other into the water and screeching with joy.

Laughter echoes from somewhere nearby—the sound of children, children like him. He tucks his knees to his chest. He has no need for friends, not when there is still so much to learn about the land. He thinks of his mother and the fresh welts on her skin. When he’s older, when he’s more capable, when he knows more, he can help her. Maybe one day they’ll be able to leave this place, or maybe just that man.

A burst of wind slips by—it carries the scent of flora, fuzzy yellow ones that make his eyes water and the purpling blooms that his mother loves. The recognition makes his head turn, just in time to see you run past him, a clump of flowers falling from your grip. You don’t seem to notice, and they fall uselessly to the wooden walkway, inches away from Kinich’s pinky.

He eyes the flowers curiously—the petals are so bright, yet dainty and thin. Then, he looks toward your rapidly disappearing figure.

And really, he doesn’t know why he cares. He should go find his mom and go home. His father will be there soon anyway, and that’s a whole different beast to contend with; he doesn’t have the time or energy to be concerned with you.

So he doesn’t really understand himself when he grabs the flowers, pushes himself to his feet, and jogs until your back is within his reach. Another step, and then his fingers wrap around your wrist just as you yelp in surprise.

The first thought he has when you turn to face him is that you’re quite pretty, and that you look to be his age—he shakes it away just as fast. Instead, he nods toward the bundle of flowers sitting in your arms.

“You dropped some,” he mumbles, opening his palm to you. It reveals a pile of crushed petals and snapped stems, and his face reddens in embarrassment. He hadn’t thought to be so careful in his rush to chase you. When he looks up, your lips are barely parted in surprise, and he awkwardly tugs at his collar.

“Ah, I’m sorry.”

He’s not good at this, he realizes instantly. Years of sticking to his own have left his social skills lacking, and he grasps blindly for something to say. Instead, you’re the first to break the silence—you laugh, a bell-like sound that he finds a bit cute.

“Wow, I must’ve been going pretty fast,” you say, head tilted. “Sorry about that! My momma used to say I run like the wind!”

Kinich tries not to get stuck on the ‘used to’ in your words, but fails—he wonders if you’re alone. It must be difficult, he’s sure, but there are some nights when the stench of alcohol grows too strong and the screams grow too loud where he wonders if it might be preferable. He’s thinking too long, and the silence grows awkward, so he forces himself to speak.

“What are the flowers for?”

It’s your turn to be embarrassed now, an awkward giggle escaping your lips as you shift your weight between your feet.

“I was thinking about making flower crowns for the other kids in the tribe. They don’t really like playing with me lately, maybe ‘cause I’m alone, so I wanted to do something so we could all be friends again.”

Kinich doesn’t really get it—what would be the point of playing with someone who doesn’t like you? Something about the situation tells him it wouldn’t be the right thing to say, though, so he merely nods. You seem genuine, and while he may be socially inept at times, he’s not mean-spirited. Quietly, however, he notes that the stems of the flowers you have are too long—you’d have trouble making flower crowns with these.

“Have you ever made crowns before?” he asks, doubtful.

“Nope,” you answer honestly, “is it that obvious?”

Living at the foot of the mountain meant he had become much more familiar with the nature surrounding the tribe. His mother had been teaching him a few things lately, particularly related to farming and weaving. A flower crown would be simple work, certainly.

He frowns. He shouldn’t do this, but you’re looking at him so expectantly.

“I could show you how—”

“Kinich!”

His mother appears just then, cheeks reddened and hair sticking wildly to her forehead. Various bags hang from her arms, evidence of her shopping, but she casts them aside in favor of grabbing at his wrist.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you! I thought you got lost, or even kidnapped! What were you thinking? You’re not usually like this!”

You vaguely think that the two look quite alike; he has her eyes, save for the purpling bruise that sits just underneath her left one. You’ve had similar ones from banging your knees on things, but none in a place so front-facing.

Kinich hangs his head, stepping away from you quickly. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Shame radiates from his form in waves, so potent you can practically feel it yourself. You grab his other wrist out of instinct, and he raises his eyes to you in surprise.

“I’m sorry too, ma’am,” you say. The woman looks shocked, gaze flitting to where your hand joins with his. “I was clumsy and took up too much of his time. It’s my fault if he was late.”

Kinich’s heart flips, and he’s unsure why—maybe because he’s never had anyone defend him like this, maybe because he’s never had anyone defend him at all. His mother looks just as flabbergasted as he does, only returning to her senses when she notices the setting sun. She sighs, addressing her son again.

“Your father will be home soon,” she says, retrieving her bags, and Kinich visibly stiffens. “We should go.”

Gentle, he twists his wrist from your grip, quietly following his mother as she starts to leave. There’s a similar sadness to the hunch of their backs, as if they’re dreading returning home—you wonder if you’re imagining it. Kinich, you remember his mother calling him. You like the sound of it.

“Kinich!”

He turns at the call of his name, so unfamiliar from your lips. You’re smiling brightly, holding up two of the flowers you’d picked.

“Next time, teach me how to make a flower crown, okay?”

His mother doesn’t speak as they make the walk home. He lets the wind fill the silence, whistling through the trees and carrying him with its lulling sound. It’s one of the few pleasures he finds nowadays when he retreats outside, skin purpling with fresh bruises.

They inch the front door open, tentative and wincing, half-expecting his father to burst out in a drunken rage—they’re only met with silence. Relieved, Kinich’s mother sets about putting away the groceries, and Kinich collapses into bed, letting his eyes fall shut as the sun dims outside. He tries to savor the last few minutes he has, distantly praying that his father might come home sober today.

He thinks of the market, and then he thinks of the flowers. He thinks about the flowers, and then he thinks about them some more—a little longer than is natural for him.

Just as he slips into sleep, Kinich realizes that he never asked for your name.

#genshin impact x reader #kinich x reader #kinich x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact imagines #adeptus ink

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precious-little-scoundrel · 13 hours

Text

|| Radio ||

Requested plot points? ☑️

Circa: early February 1944

Immediate previous fic: Favorite Escape

Summary: when your hodge podge radio won’t work, who should ya call? Probably the flight engineer

Warnings: usual universe warnings apply, 18+ but nothing very alarming really happens in this one, references to others are made, some potential slut shaming in the beginning if ya squint? perhaps some queer baiting but it’s the Buckies rolling around on the flooor, they’re one massive queer bait lbr, it’s not me. Also. My shit Crystal Radio making descriptions- don’t come for me I haven’t made one and I spent five hours falling down a rabbit hole as to how the guys made them in the camps and at the end of the day I said: screw it! And went with one of the Brit’s scenarios 🍻

Edited only by my tired little eyes, full warning and have mercy 💋

Also, just a note I feel compelled to make- this fic centers around women in the army, in a war, which they’re spending under dire conditions in a POW camp. Yes there is love here, there is also hierarchy and discipline and the enforcement of that does not make one character or another necessarily callous or less loving. They are their ranks first and foremost as all signed up for.

“They’re forging papers, you know.” Maureen broached the topic to Egan one day, late February and when her cheeks were still bruised from Ida’s book.

Bucky paused his tracing of a map, sooty finger trailing along a river with the same incomprehensible name as its twin running parallel, he didn’t know anything about papers or anyone making them and she knew that. “Who?”

“Good ones. Identification, passports.” She enumerated.

“Who?”

“The Poles. The ones with the-“

“-the liquor.” he finished for her, remembrance and condemnation heavy in his wry tone. “The ones you stayed out all night with.”

“Stayed long enough for them to get drunk enough to show me.”she replied, without heat, which was surprising.

“Some grand plan of yours, huh?” He bit back a laugh, it was a fine way to cover her ass for being insubordinate. It was a way he’d likely try if he was in her place.

“No.” she swore instead. “Just luck, I happened to see them. They got careless. Maybe an answer to all Jack’s prayers.”

“Yeah. Anything to give that rosary a break.”

“Yeah.”

“You asked them?”

“What for?”

Bucky regarded her with thinning patience but something kept him from snapping, the feeling of a riddle still to be solved. “For some papers.” he clarified, measured and intent, she knew how much easier that would make their plans for Ida.

Maureen shook her head, glancing down at her twisting hands, “I didn’t want to-“ her mouth twisted too, “-I wanted to ask a superior first.”

Bucky considered that for a moment, slightly touched at her newfound wisdom, “Why not ask Buck?”

She shook her head again, auburn hair curling under her chin just so, even here in the stalag she had some traces of the old charm. “He’s got too much to worry about for me to be bringing in hypotheticals.” she was so upset by something she would not even meet John’s eye and he felt a slice of remorse for how he hadn’t even noticed the ground down change in her since she got here, his drinking buddy and the soft fleshed rival of merry old English days was a gruff and battered and sullen woman; being a red blooded American male, he regretted that dismal change. “And I'm worried about what to bargain with. What can I promise? We haven’t got much and I don’t have— there’s not much anyway, but what we’ve got I didn’t wanna promise. Not without-“ she still hadn’t met his eye, he tracked hers; a furious roving of pale blue back and forth across the floorboards and it made Bucky itch.

“Who signs these papers?” Bucky asked, thinking the logistics through, knowing she’d perk up if he brought them up.

“Haven’t a clue. Maybe they haven’t figured that part out yet. I don’t know. I just know they’ve got papers.”

“Good ones.”

“Yeah.”

“We haven’t got much.” he agreed, clicking his teeth in thought, “What’d you give them for the liquor?”

“They just invited me.”

“Didn’t have to lend a hand or nothin’?” he balked and Maureen threw him a glare that seemed more hurt than rage, and chastened by a voice inside that sounded much like his mama’s, he amended with sheepish humor, “Hell, feel like lending a hand myself these days, if it’d get me a whisky.”

Her gnarled fist curled white in her lap, she managed hoarsely, “They just wanted to talk about home. To someone who hadn’t heard about it a million times before.”

“They got cigarettes?” he asked.

“As most common payment for their booze -they’ve got enough to insulate their shack three deep.”

“Cigarettes won’t cut it then.”

“I’ve been thinking.”-

“Yeah?”

“The radio. I’m the only one who doesn’t think it’s worth the risk but, I know, it doesn’t matter, it’s happening. Gale’s going to keep trying. And if it works-“ she rubbed at her eyes, tired and unsure, “-that’s quite the bargaining chip.”

Bucky nodded slowly, eyes narrowing as his smile grew a touch broader, “News of the outside world.” he was half in agreement, “Buck asked for a week. Been four days.”

“He’s stumped.” Maureen retorted instantly. “And he’ll stay that way and he’ll go nuts and you’ll go die going over the fence and then he’ll have no reason left not to die too.”

Bucky whistled, low and chiding, “You’re full of rainbows today, Candy.”

“You know who he oughta ask.” she shook off the barb. “But he won’t. And I don’t want him risking it for this thing anymore than anyone else, but you all want it so bad, and they’ll shoot us for it if it works or not. I’m not asking her. But you would. Might as well get shot for it working, right? Isn't that what you said yesterday? You know who he should ask.”

Bucky’s keen eyes showed the moment it dawned on him, his eyebrows shot up and his mouth sagged and he ran a weathered hand over his face, “Awww shit, Candy.” came garbled behind his palm. “Ah shit.” he said again with conviction as he shoved the hand into his pocket, wretched acknowledgment of her point clear on his face.

“I didn’t want to suggest it, told Ida it’s a fucking dangerous thing and I’ll never forgive if— but you all—“

Bucky grounded aloud, “Nah, nah she’s -Lu would solve it.” he muttered, shushing her. “Demarco really pummeled you the other day, huh?” he added, and that got her to meet his eye, she looked spooked and a little incensed, “Saw him fuckin’ you up behind B compound but sheesh, s’like he hollowed you out worse than a jacolantern; yer shifty as hell.”

“He-“ Maureen still felt like blanching at the memory of Benny’s terribly correct opinions, his disappointed eyes and his fist full of her flight jacket asking her what in the living fuck was wrong with her besides a concussion, a sick childhood and an ever nauseating jealousy of Buck Cleven’s paternal time and effort, “-he had some admonitions. After…after the other night.”

Bucky hummed, shitty smirk taking up residence on his face, “How ‘bout that.”

“I’m gonna be better.” she muttered and Bucky felt for her, could almost taste the echo of his identical and hollow determination to climb the mountain of bad habits when weak from spuds and pneumonia. He told himself the same every morning and fell into bed condoning his failure every night, like a ritual.

“You’re gonna get us those papers.” he corrected, shoving off the wall to come near her, give her the full Major treatment and maybe a friendly hand, “And you can promise your drinkin’ buddies news from the radio.”

Maureen nodded in understanding, no joy or animation left in her green eyes. She used to enjoy a bit of subterfuge, now she only felt hollow misery at the thought that she'd dragged Lu into this, too. This risk she hated so much and yet no one cared. Lu would be glad to be dragged in, it’s true, she was itching at the chance to be useful and to make Gale proud, it’s how the girl was wired. It’s how most girls were wired, Maureen supposed, desperate to make Gale Cleven approve. Lu’s enthusiasm wouldn’t make the sight of her being made to kneel in the mud and have a bullet put in her head any easier, wouldn’t make Maureen feel any less responsible for it when her lifeless body thudded to the earth.

All that lovely goodness stamped out.

Over a radio.

Bucky’s hand felt too hard and too big on her shoulder. He had gone before the vision cleared, mud and wire and the freezing main square at Ravensbruck fading back to the musty bunk room. Maureen shook herself and stood up to make herself somehow appealing, reamniante some semblance of the cheerful rashness that had led her to the Polish combine in the first place: she found it hard to inspire. She’d like to count that a victory but she knew better, she wasn’t reformed she was just tired.

A washed face and a fake smile and the promise of news from outside would have to be enough to bank all their risks on, it would have to be.

“Crank,” she greeted the man in the hall, flashing him clean, water brushed teeth and her gentlest, freshly soot lined eyes, “I’ve been tasked by Major Egan with an errand, spare a minute to babysit me?”

__________________________________

Bucky finds Buck Cleven in his own bunkroom, Demarco outside on watch and that’s all Bucky needs to know to guess the radio is out and Buck’s working like a fiend yet again to make it work. Sure enough, he’s hunched over the table with it, mittened hands shaking from cold and exhaustion and a sheen of sweat on his forehead despite the paltry sweater he wears.

Bucky walks in and Gale gives him a soft, acknowledging glance before continuing to his work. Bucky takes up his usual place behind Buck’s left shoulder to watch and Buck, being used to it, goes on.

“My little Kriegie Marconi, huh?” Bucky allows the nagging impulse he has felt for weeks while standing in this position to finally exert itself, and his forefinger lifts and swirls in the curling gold strands of hair at the nape of Gale’s neck, his friend almost bolts away but then seems to choose a prey’s tactic and just stills, goes very still and Bucky scritches the scalp beneath his grab in assurance he don’t meant anything by it. He doesn’t think he does, at least.

Gale, wary and with a voice close to mechanized it’s so stilted, inquires with ever-present politeness, “You alright Bucky?”

It’s better than that whole ‘major’ business; getting called Major as if that meant shit anymore. “Yeah, ‘course I am.” Bucky rakes his fingers through the hairs there at the nape of that dainty neck, scritches the scalp with all four of his main ones, and uncovers a white long scar sliding round once he lifts the hairs there. “Why wouldn’t I be? Gonna be a father soon.”

Buck does jerk then, away from his touch and wheeling his chair around to glare at Bucky; it’s an impressively executed little pirouette and John misses the feel of his warm neck and oil soft hair. “Jesus John.” he reprimands.

“We’re gonna get outta here Buck.” John swears, he’s so sure of it because he cannot in all his thinking and predicting ever imagine a scenario where they don’t, and he chooses to think it’s not delusion but a good omen. “Ida’s gonna have that baby and when it’s safe we’ll all meet up.”

Gale is looking at him like he’s his own father again, Bucky knows that look, it always makes him equal parts ashamed and desperate, “Jus’ like that.” Gale mocks in a husky gust.

It’s devastating, and it’s intended to be, and Bucky could bear that with better humor if he could still touch Gale and his hair. “Just like that.”

Gale hums and it’s a mean sorta vocalization that makes Bucky’s heart thud and his skin prickle hot, it’s the kinda noise you kiss off a person, he thinks, but it’s Buck and so he doesn’t know what to do with it. “It’s gonna get you killed.” Buck is saying instead and Bucky lets him, “I know you all think she’s cracked up and maybe she has but it wouldn’t hurt to listen to Kendeigh sometimes when she’s tellin’ ya shit that a five year old could accurately guess, -goddamn it.”

His voice rose to a strong rage by the end and Bucky takes a chair opposite him, sick of standing there like a dumb dog waiting for his scolding to be over. “So what.” Bucky challenges him, “We just wait around and Brady pops out a child and the krauts let us keep it and it’s our new mascot and we all sing zippidy doo da, huh? Huh, Buck?”

Gale’s hands fell away from his face with a slam to the table, a shocking degree of anger showing for a split second and it gave Bucky an odd degree of gratification. “I jus’ want you to find a plan with better odds.”

Bucky sniffed and leaned forward, went in for the kill and Gale was looking at him like he expected it, like it was his turn to play daddy to everyone here and Gale for once was so beaten down he wouldn’t just allow the changing of the guard, he was close to angry at its lateness. It made Bucky’s heart thud.

“I’ve been listening to Kendeigh.” Bucky refuted briefly, “And we’ve got a plan.” Gale gave him a tired look of encouragement to go on, “How long’s it been since you slept? Huh, well, we got a plan. Practically perfect, or it will be, just need the radio.”

“Ain’t giving this away.” Gale said, “Not for anythin’, even useless.”

Bucky patted the table top in easy assurance, if he could have reached Buck’s thigh, he’d have patted that instead, “No, no, don’t need to give it away, just need it to work. So,” he softened his voice and his eyes tightened, “I’m callin’ Lu in.”

Oddly, Gale does not fight it. Not aloud, at least. There’s an anguished look of hate on his face and Bucky mirrors it. It’s for this place and the fucking awful choices they have to choose from every goddamn day.

“You run this by Ida?” is all he asks.

Bucky pops his flaking lips audibly, “What, need us both gangin’ up on you to agree? She’ll sign off. Smith’s an officer. Gotta remember that sometimes, Buck.”

The way his Buck swallows hard and dry contradicts his words, “I do remember that.”

“Really?” Bucky’s mouth gives a soft smile of doubtful incredulity and Gale’s mimics it, mournful but a smirk all the same, “Feel like she should answer to ‘Gale’s Baby’ these days. Lieutenant Smith who?”

Gale scoffs, “Careful now.”

“No really, she’s an officer and she wants to be treated like one. It’ll do her good to have work. Her kinda work.”

“Could get her killed.”

“Layin’ in her bunk could do that.”

Gale grunts, its sounds like an agreement.

“So I say Lieutenant Smith gets put on radio detail. Like her goddamn job description suggests. Huh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Gale lets out a shaky agreement.

“Aaaaand,” Bucky draws it out as he rises again and saunters over to Buck who is ready for him and loose this time, “how bout I go back to bein’ the one you’re frettin’ ‘bout all the time. Got me almost jealous of the girl. How ‘bout I do. Huh?”

Gale’s scoff is fond as anything as he looks up at John with cheerful derision, “And you ‘bout to be a father? Make me an old man? Fuck no, ya looney.”

“Alright.” Bucky concedes with hands up in surrender before lurching forward and grasping Gale’s rickety chair back by its wobbly spokes and hefting it partially off the ground, beautiful and outraged prude of an occupant still seated in it, “Then I’ll play daddy and put you to bed, how ‘bout that.”

“John Egan for fucks sake-“ Gale’s fists pounded on the meat of his shoulders and his outraged protests wafted against Bucky’s neck and his jabbing knees collided with the meat of his thighs and Bucky hadn’t felt so close to him or so happy to be alive since England.

“Major sir, the hell is goin’ on?” Demarco’s tame inquiry from the safety of the doorway made them both lose their grapple and they collided together onto the floor, bunk bed barely missed by their heads and the hapless chair mixed up between their limbs.

Bucky grinned, hip sore from his fall and kidneys suffering from Buck’s trapped elbow there, “Puttin’ Goldilocks to bed.” he replied.

DeMarco processed that and the scene before him with grave sobriety before saluting lazily and turning to go, “Right on, sir.”

John did his best to rise up without further pinching Gale who was indeed trapped beside him and beneath him, chair legs wound between a lanky human leg in a puzzle that Bucky realized might take some caution to untangle without harm. Strangely, Buck wasn’t moving, he was just looking up at him like a cat would their clumsy master who has done somethin’ stupid which was a surprise to neither. It was so innocuous a look and so nostalgic, it winded Bucky with the realization he hadn’t seen it in ages, just as he hadn’t felt his boney ribs against his own and the feel of his elegant hands yanking him around in a fight. This miserable place really was stomping out the glow in the best people.

“Ya know Buck,” he ventured, clearing his throat for extra casualness, “I’ve missed you.” When Gale only kept looking up at him, perfect porcelain face with its unsettling scars and wary eyes without a lick of storm in them, John Egan grabbed his shovel and dug his own grave a little deeper, drug a finger down his cheek. “Missed all this.”

Bucky didn’t know what he meant by “this” but it felt safer and worse all at once, since he did miss Buck but he and Buck never used to hang out on floors with a chair as chaperone. Mercifully, Buck neither points that out nor moves away, acting very much like he needed to heaped on the floor with Bucky and a stray chair every bit as much as John did. Like it’s doing him good.

“And you couldn’t’ve jus’ said.” Gale murmurs with the softest eye roll of the century and Bucky feels like beaming and it must show in his face so strong and bright after a sunless winter that after a flash Gale’s cheeks flame from it and he averts his eyes.

“I dunno Buck, could I?” Egan asks one blushing cheek and Gale hasn’t got a good reply for that, so they just lay there on the floor.

“Go on now, get off me.” Gale doesn’t shove at him, he presses his hand to John’s forehead like he would a dog and John goes, obedient as one.

———————————————————————-

They found Lu with Murph and Benny and Brady, measuring out what seemed to be lot lines between Love Shack #9 and the next combine, boot scuffed perimeters already visible in the light snow and drawn in a decently tidy rectangle. There were guards loitering nearby, nosey as always with their cigarettes and their antsy dogs anytime someone did something out there besides piss or pace or stare at the fence.

“What’s all this?” Bucky inquired cheerfully, coming up to them with Gale, bundled and shivering behind him.

Benny looked up from tilling a furrow with his boot, right where Lu’s mittened finger pointed out. “It’s for the garden. S’posed to be spring before long.”

“A Chicago man oughta know better, Benny.” Egan snarked.

“Need us?”

Bucky sniffed, a casual set to his body that belied his quest, “Just the little one.”

Smith promptly looked startled, then eager. “All well Majors?”

“Need your advice on the color of my cufflinks with this suit.” Bucky extended his arm and beckoned her, “C’mon back in for a minute. One of you too, need a watch to go with the cufflinks.”

———————————————————————

With Benny on guard, Brady and Kendeigh having excavated the radio’s shell from the floorboard and table leg in which it resided, the Buckies stood over Smith’s small frame as she sat at the table and inspected the simplistic device with keen eyed appreciation for the construct.

“It’s really marvelous.” she assured Cleven, running her fingers over the carefully coiled wire and precarious pin.

Gale didn’t even crack a smile. “What’s wrong with it?” he asked instead.

She shook her head, a frown gathering. “Never made one-“ she cautioned.

“-but you get the idea.”

“Yes sir, I do.”

“So what’s wrong.”

Lu ran her fingers over the wire, again and again, the dusty metal not insulated, just bare copper, likely stripped from somewhere. It reminded her of early days as a cadet when they threw chicken wire mixed with hydraulic lines at herself and her fellow rookie engineers and told them to sort it, testing to see if they knew which was which. It had been so rudimentary she had wanted to laugh until she realized others were being flunked.

This was so basic she was stumped.

“Take your time, Lu.” Bucky spoke up after a burdened pause during which she could almost feel Major Cleven breathing down her neck.

“Candy, can I try with the headphone?” she asked at last, frustrated and out of her element, just a few months out of a plane and she had already lost her touch.

Maureen passed it over and Lu pressed it to her ear, not to discern what was quite obviously radio silence, but to imagine the whole process in reverse, track it down the cord all the way to the base, each possible breakdown of the conduction.

She fingered the ramshackle diode with burgeoning suspicion. “What’s your crystal?”

“That’s just…lead.” Cleven muttered.

“From?”

“Ground pencils.” Bucky supplied cheerfully.

Smith bit her lip, “We need sulfur added. Lead won’t conduct on its own.” She figured Cleven knew that, the grim and unmoving set of his mouth suggested so.

“Just- sulfur?” Maureen asked.

“If I had sulfur we could add it to the lead dust, ignite it and-“ Smith grinned at Kendeigh, knowing that she alone may have shared her enjoyment of a small conflagration from time to time, “burn it down and you’ve got something close enough to Galena. Just need a pinch of it should work.”

Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and surveyed the mostly morose room. All except for the two girls grinning at each other over the hypothetical of a little chemistry experiment in a highly flammable wooden combine.

“We’ve got sandy soil.” Buck’s contemplative drawl spoke up, “Dunno if we could extract enough pure sulfur.”

Maureen stared back at Egan instead, “Other sectors have gotten portions of kits, chemistry kits, radio kits, they’ve been smuggled in with all sorts of stuff. Inside of a violin, oat bags. Nothing to fully build something. They might have sulfur. I could make inquiries and- well, Jack could pick it up next time the band goes over C compound to entertain the poor Aussie bastards.”

“How do you kno- nevermind, actually. Nevermind.” Bucky broke off, “Alright. Sure, why not. Ya sure that’s it?” he asked Lu once more.

She gave a helpless little shrug. “Gotta be. Or the wire’s dirty. Where’d it come from anyway?”

Gale gave Bucky a long suffering look as Bucky seemed to swell a couple inches and bounce back on his heels at the mention of his scrounging prowess. “The lamp.” he nodded above them all.

Jack Brady scoffed, short, clipped, betrayed, “That why it cuts out all the time? Strobed us so bad last night -thought the room was possessed.”

“Sacrifices Jack, sacrifices.”

———————————————————

Benny had hauled in enough water buckets to elicit some negative attention from the guards, and when the inspection came the inmates of the Love Shack insisted the drenched floors and table of the Majors’ barracks were due to sanitation post regurgitation. At night, with only one stolen torch light from Combine 15 to illuminate the endeavor, a basin of water beneath a smaller bowl in which lay their precious and recently procured ingredients, a science experiment began. The Majors and Ida gathered round, all looking as ghastly and spectral in the light of the flashlight as Brady’s fake ghost. It held the thrill of a bonfire night except for the stakes, which all in the room did their best not to dwell on.

“Zippo, Candy.” Lu gave the word and Maureen, with only the protection of Ida’s bent aviators to keep from a scorched cornea, flicked on her lighter and set the mixed powders ablaze.

It flamed up high and smelly, making Benny gag and mutter something about Meatball’s gas to a tittering Brady, and then died down to a yellow smoking ember.

“We should let it sit.” Lu surmised with a squeeze to Maureen’s only somewhat singed hand, her big dark eyes surveying the burnt bowl and their smoking experiment with glittery excitement at the possibility of success, “Let it cool, settle, maybe strain it. Can you get me a net? Oh Candy come now, get me a strainer?” she begged with a laugh as Maureen rolled her eyes at the idea of yet another trip to the Stalag Market for the most random items imaginable. If they hoped to not be suspicious, they’d need better lies or more money.

“How about cheesecloth?” Kendeigh tried not to grin indulgently- and failed- in the face of Lu and having recently been allowed to set something on fire

Lu kissed her cheek. “Cheesecloth would be perfect.”

In the end, cheesecloth did indeed prove perfect, and amongst the burnt dust of the combined minerals was a gritty little pinch full of the needed crystals. Or so Lu said, Gale agreed but the crease between his brows hadn’t lifted for two days; Bucky’s fingers had begun to twitch in antsy need to manually smooth them out. He imagined Maureen felt the same but she hadn’t said, uncharacteristically forbearant now she had some job to keep her sane. Even if it was playing fetch for Lu.

—————————————————————

“Well, this is it.” Gale muttered when the watch had been set once more, Murph and Hambone on the steps, Crank inside, Brady at the door, Benny at the window. Even Major Clark had joined them in the barracks for this final try and Lu’s cheeks were maroon from the attention even as her deft hands steadily pressed her concoction beneath its intended rod.

“Pass me the pliers, sir?” She asked and for a moment, the teacher became the apprentice and Gale fetched her the stalag forged tool, rudimentary like everything here yet the gripped and pulled and lifted same as the pliers back home. “You could check your look in this wire’s reflection.” She complimented Gale’s buffing of the copper wire.

He shrugged in turn. “Didn't wanna leave anythin’ to chance. That it?” he asked as her hands stalled and she surveyed her work.

Lu nodded solemnly. “Yes sir.”

Gale picked up the headphone from in front of him on the table like it was a gun he was about to bring to his head. “Here.” He extended it to her instead, “S’right, it was your job, you should be the first. Cmon.”

Despite her voiceless protest he pressed the headphones into her hands and Lu, never knowing how to disobey an officer, folded immediately.

For a good ten seconds everyone in the room held their breath as Smith pressed the headphone to her ear and gently wiggled the clothespin along the wire, searching and tuning, her face holding that old peaceful concentration they hadn’t seen since the last mission. She was at home with her mind tuned to another dimension. The pilots in the room knew that look, that was the look of someone at home with something that terrified them all the same, the gut swooping feeling of clearing the take off and sledding along the tops of the clouds. Wrong and strange and utterly incomparable to others, it was the closest to home one’s mind could be. Lu belonged somewhere on those electric currents and searching them out was like finding oneself again.

Then at last, Lu’s eyes sharpened out of their dreamy haze of concentration and she said, gentle as always, “It’s the BBC sir.”

💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

MOTA taglist, I only have one so ignore if this is not the universe you signed up for:

@stylespresleyhearted

@ab4eva

@earth-to-lottie

@suraemoon

@blurredcolour

@steph-speaks

@crazymadpassionatelove

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#those who can #masters of the air #mota #mota fanfic #gale cleven #bucky egan #clegan #tallulah smith #john egan #john egan fanfiction #Gale Cleven fanfic #buck Cleven #mota fanfiction #mota oc #mine

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genericpuff · 2 days

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What do you think about Reachel's new redraw?

I feel like the characters look good but the background is too gray compared to the original one 😕

It's pretty rough, ngl. Not even necessarily because of the art itself, but because it's not a panel she should have ever redrawn to begin with.

The whole point of that scene was to showcase Persephone bringing life into the Underworld, a place where only death existed, but in this redraw it completely lacks that messaging, resulting in a scene of Persephone and Hades simply hugging each other in the dark with very dead-looking foliage surrounding them.

On a structural level, the composition has gone from vertical to horizontal, giving us way too much empty space around them which, again, is failed by the background being so dull and lifeless; Persephone's somehow become even smaller; and worst of all (though I'm sure some people will think I'm overreacting) her hair isn't tucked up in Hades' arms anymore, it's just sort of falling perfectly over his shoulder as one solid goop of pink, strangely changing shape as if it's resting on something but there's clearly nothing there.

That said, my opinions should be taken with grains of salt because I also have a lot of personal beef with a redraw like this - that original panel was my phone background for like, 2 years, and the episode it came from is still one of my favorites of all time in spite of all the criticisms I now have of the series, with art that originally inspired me to want to learn how to draw like Rachel.

There's been a lot of evidence over the past year or so to suggest that Rachel has "fallen out of touch" with her own work and these redraws that she's been making lately feel like tangible proof of that. The context in which she created those original panels no longer exists so to try and redraw them fundamentally misses the point of why they were so iconic to begin with.

I can understand that feeling of falling out of touch with your own work, to the point of not even seeing the appeal of it yourself anymore, but that's all the more reason to keep moving forward, not back. The fact that she's still just muddling around with LO stuff despite announcing two more projects and seemingly not making any progress with either the TV show or Rachel Smythe Presents... it really does seem like she's stuck in limbo. The deadlines and contractual obligations aren't there to motivate her anymore, and while that may now have freed her from the burden of creating LO in such a cramped and unhealthy space - now being able to create it simply for herself - I think the years of working on it have definitely taken its toll on her ability to create the way she used to and so we're seeing those growing pains now.

The real bummer about it is that it's being celebrated as "growth" but it's about as much growth as the illustrated environment above - dead and bleak.

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical

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urdreamydoodles · 1 day

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im assuming you're taking requests, so I will bring you Scott, Logan, Jean, Ororo, Charales, Erik with a young kid reader who has a very power mutation and is an omega level mutant, and is now at the mansion because they parents didn't want them

X-Men x Kid!Reader

Their relationship with you—a omega-level mutant

After being abandoned by your parents due to your dangerous omega-level mutation, you arrive at the Xavier Institute, where a X-Man take you under their wing. They help you navigate the overwhelming potential of your powers, becoming mentors and parental figures as they guide you toward self-acceptance and control.

Characters: Scott Summers, Logan Howlett, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Charles Xavier & Erik Lehnsherr

Of course I take requests, don't hesitate to ask again love ♡ And thanks for the idea, I hadn't planned on writing for a Kid!Reader soon but you motivated me to do it. — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

When you first arrived at the mansion, Scott was the one who greeted you. As a leader, he had taken on the responsibility of welcoming new students, especially those who might be difficult to place. But when he learned that you, a young child, had been abandoned by your parents due to your dangerous mutation, something in him softened. He saw a reflection of his younger self in you—alone, scared, and confused about your powers. He was quiet at first, observing you as you sat in the mansion’s common room, staring out the window, your small form dwarfed by the large surroundings. You didn’t speak much either, afraid of being rejected again.

Scott had been through so much with his own powers, especially as someone whose mutation had caused harm in the past. He understood how overwhelming it could be, especially for a child. He approached you cautiously, always careful not to seem too intrusive. "Hey," he said softly, kneeling to be at eye level with you. "I know things are hard right now, but we’re here to help. You're safe here."

At first, you didn’t believe him. How could anyone help with something as destructive as your mutation? But Scott never pushed you, never forced you to talk about it until you were ready. Days turned into weeks, and little by little, Scott became the constant figure in your life. He would check on you every morning, sitting with you during meals when you felt too shy to sit with the other students. He’d take you to the Danger Room, not for training, but to show you that your powers didn’t define who you were.

As time passed, Scott began teaching you how to control your mutation, sharing his own struggles with his optic blasts and how Professor Xavier had helped him. He showed you that even though your mutation was powerful, it could be harnessed for good. The bond between the two of you grew, and Scott became a father figure in your life, guiding you through the complexities of being an omega-level mutant. Whenever you felt overwhelmed, Scott was always there, his calm and steady presence reassuring you that you were never alone.

The more time you spent together, the more you came to see Scott as not just a mentor but as someone who truly cared for you. He would bring you small gifts—a book he thought you’d like, or a new pair of shoes when he noticed yours were wearing out. He’d sit with you at night when nightmares of losing control over your powers haunted your sleep. Over time, Scott became the person you trusted most, the one who saw past your dangerous mutation and saw you as a person—someone worth loving and protecting.

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

Logan wasn’t known for being a nurturing figure, but when Charles asked him to keep an eye on you, he couldn’t say no. When you arrived at the mansion, a young kid with a mutation that even the other mutants found intimidating, Logan saw the fear in your eyes. It reminded him of his own past—how he’d been treated like a monster because of his powers. But he didn’t approach you immediately. He watched from a distance at first, letting you get comfortable in your new environment.

You were quiet, withdrawn, and understandably scared of hurting someone with your powers. Your parents had abandoned you, and that kind of rejection left deep scars. But Logan understood that. He knew what it was like to be rejected for something you couldn’t control. Slowly, he began to approach you, always in his gruff, no-nonsense way. "Kid," he’d say, catching your attention one afternoon while you sat alone in the garden. "You hungry? Come get something to eat."

At first, you were hesitant around him. Logan’s rough exterior and gruff voice made him seem intimidating, but over time, you began to realize that beneath all of that was someone who genuinely cared. He didn’t coddle you, didn’t treat you like you were fragile. Instead, he treated you like a person, not just a child. He would take you with him on walks through the woods surrounding the mansion, teaching you survival skills and how to listen to the world around you. Logan wasn’t the type to sit down and talk about feelings, but in his own way, he helped you understand that your mutation didn’t define you.

As your bond grew, Logan became more protective of you. He’d take you out to train, showing you how to defend yourself—not just with your powers, but with your fists. He wanted you to be strong, to not rely solely on your mutation. "There’s more to you than just that," he’d tell you, his tone gruff but kind. "You’ve got a brain, kid. Use it."

Logan was never one for emotional speeches, but his actions spoke louder than words. He’d be there when you had nightmares, sitting silently by your side until you fell back asleep. He made sure you had everything you needed, even if that meant going out in the middle of the night to get you something. Over time, you began to see Logan as a father figure, someone who, despite his rough edges, loved you in his own way. He was the one who taught you that you were more than just your powers, and for that, you loved him back.

Jean Grey (Phoenix)

When Jean first saw you, she sensed the fear and confusion swirling around you like a storm. You were so young, yet your powers were immense, dangerous even, and you didn’t have the control to handle them yet. Jean understood what it was like to carry the weight of powers that felt too big for you. She’d been there once, and she knew how terrifying it could be. So, from the moment you stepped foot into the mansion, Jean made it her mission to help you.

Jean was gentle with you from the start, never pushing you to open up too soon. Instead, she made sure you knew she was always there, a comforting presence in the chaos of your new life. She’d sit with you during meals, smiling softly, encouraging you to try new foods or talk about your day. "You’re not alone in this," she’d say, her voice calm and reassuring. "We’ve all been where you are. It’s okay to be scared."

The first time your powers flared up, it was in the middle of the night. You had a nightmare, and your mutation spiraled out of control, shaking the entire mansion. Jean was there within seconds, her own powers calming the chaos around you. She sat beside you, her arms around your trembling form, whispering soothing words until the storm inside you calmed. "It’s okay," she’d murmur softly. "I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you."

Jean became the mother figure you had never known. She was patient, always understanding that your powers were tied to your emotions. She spent hours with you, teaching you how to meditate, how to center yourself, and how to control the overwhelming power you carried. She shared her own experiences with you, telling you about the times she had lost control of her abilities, and how she had learned to harness them with time and practice.

The more time you spent with Jean, the more you grew to trust her. She was the one you went to when you were scared, the one who held you when the weight of your mutation became too much. Jean was always there, offering comfort, guidance, and love. She never saw you as a danger, even when your powers flared up unexpectedly. Instead, she saw you as a young mutant who just needed a little help finding her way.

As your relationship deepened, Jean became more than just a mentor—she became the mother you had always needed. She was there for every milestone, every step of your journey to control your powers. And when you finally began to master them, it was Jean who stood beside you, her smile filled with pride and love. She had taken you under her wing, and in doing so, she had given you a family.

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

When you first arrived at the Xavier Institute, Ororo Munroe was one of the first faces you saw. There was something about her calm and regal presence that made you feel a little less overwhelmed by your new surroundings. You were still so young, and with your mutation threatening to spiral out of control at any moment, you were terrified. Your parents had made it clear they couldn’t handle the dangers your powers presented, and now you were here—alone, confused, and unsure of what to expect.

Ororo approached you gently, her voice soft but strong. "Welcome," she said with a warm smile. "You’re safe here. We’ll figure this out together." She could sense your unease, the way your powers hummed beneath your skin, ready to burst forth at the slightest emotional trigger. Ororo understood what it was like to have powers connected so deeply to one’s emotions. Her ability to control the weather had once been wild and untamed, just like you.

At first, you were hesitant. You didn’t trust easily, not after the way your parents had reacted to your mutation. But Ororo didn’t push. She gave you space when you needed it, but was always there when you felt ready to open up. She took you under her wing, teaching you how to connect with nature, how to calm your mind and body to prevent your powers from overwhelming you.

She would take you out into the gardens, her favorite place at the mansion, and together you would sit in the grass, surrounded by flowers and trees. Ororo showed you how to focus on the wind, the rustle of the leaves, the soft patter of rain—small, natural things that helped you feel grounded. "Your powers don’t control you," she’d say with quiet conviction. "You control them."

As time passed, Ororo became a mother figure to you. She was always patient, always understanding. She taught you discipline and control, but more than that, she taught you self-acceptance. She helped you see that your mutation was a part of who you were, but it didn’t define you. Whenever you had a rough day, Ororo would be there, offering comforting words and reminding you that you were stronger than you thought.

The bond you developed with Ororo was unbreakable. She was there through every challenge, every triumph, and every setback. With her guidance, you grew stronger, not just in your abilities, but in your confidence. And no matter how many times you stumbled, Ororo was always there to lift you back up, her gentle smile reminding you that you were never alone.

Charles Xavier (Professor X)

You hadn’t said much when you first arrived at the mansion, but Charles Xavier didn’t need words to understand the storm of emotions brewing inside you. The moment he saw you, he could sense your fear, your confusion, and the overwhelming power you were struggling to control. Your mutation was dangerous, unpredictable, and omega-level—something your parents couldn’t handle. They had sent you here, hoping Charles could help, but you felt abandoned, rejected.

Charles had seen it all before, in countless young mutants who had passed through the mansion’s doors. But something about your quiet demeanor, the way you held yourself as though you didn’t want to take up any space, tugged at his heart. He approached you with kindness, offering a gentle smile. "You’re not alone anymore," he said, his voice soft but reassuring. "This is your home now."

At first, you were skeptical. You had been told so many times that you were dangerous, that your mutation made you a threat. But Charles never treated you that way. He was patient, understanding, and always willing to listen. He never probed your mind without permission, respecting your boundaries even when he knew you were struggling.

He spent hours with you in his study, guiding you through meditation exercises, helping you learn to quiet the noise in your mind. "Your mutation is powerful," he’d tell you, "but it doesn’t have to define you. You are in control, not the other way around." His presence was calming, his belief in you unwavering. It was the first time in a long time that you felt like someone truly saw you—not as a threat, but as a person.

As the months passed, Charles became more than just a mentor to you. He was like a father, always there when you needed guidance or support. He encouraged you to push beyond your fears, to embrace your mutation as a part of who you were. With his help, you began to gain control over your powers, learning to harness them instead of being overwhelmed by them.

Charles never gave up on you, even on the days when you felt like giving up on yourself. He believed in you when no one else had, and that belief made all the difference. Over time, the bond between you grew stronger, and Charles became a pillar of strength in your life. You knew that no matter how difficult things got, he would always be there to guide you through it.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

When you were first brought to Erik Lehnsherr, you were terrified. Not just of your powers, but of him. You had heard stories—whispers about Magneto, the mutant who could control metal with just a flick of his hand, the one who had waged wars for mutantkind. But there was no one else who could understand what you were going through. Your mutation was out of control, destructive, and your parents had given up on you.

Erik didn’t approach you like the others at the mansion might have. He didn’t sugarcoat things or offer soothing words. Instead, he looked at you with a kind of intensity that made you feel like he was seeing straight through you. "You are powerful," he told you bluntly, his voice firm. "More powerful than you realize. And that power is something you must learn to control."

You weren’t sure what to make of him at first. He was intimidating, his presence almost overwhelming. But there was something in his words that resonated with you. He didn’t treat you like a fragile child. He didn’t look at you with fear or pity. Instead, he saw potential in you—potential that everyone else had overlooked.

Erik took you under his wing, and while his methods were harsh at times, they were effective. He pushed you harder than anyone else, refusing to let you be consumed by fear or self-doubt. "Fear is a weapon," he would say during training sessions. "And if you let it control you, you’ve already lost."

As the days turned into weeks, you began to see a different side of Erik. Beneath the hardened exterior, there was a deep well of care—especially for you. He had seen firsthand what it was like to be cast aside because of one’s powers, and he wasn’t going to let that happen to you. He believed in your strength, even when you didn’t, and he was determined to help you harness your abilities.

Erik was a complicated figure in your life. He wasn’t soft or gentle like the others, but he was there when you needed him most. He challenged you, pushed you to the brink, but always pulled you back when things became too much. And over time, you came to trust him, to see him as more than just a mentor. He was like a father to you, albeit one with a complicated history.

Under Erik’s guidance, you grew into your powers. He helped you understand that being powerful wasn’t something to fear—it was something to embrace. And though your relationship with him was often difficult, it was also one of the most important connections you had ever made. You knew that, despite everything, Erik cared for you in his own way. And that was enough.

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meanbossart · 19 hours

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what would have to go differently in DU Drows story for him to take the bhaalist route? would it be a split second decision in the temple or something he’d have to slowly accept over the course of the game?

EDIT: I slightly misread the question, the answer still holds but the first line is about what has to be done for him to turn AGAINST Bhaal.

Both mechanically and story-wise, it's pretty simple. He just has to be taken into the group kicking and screaming 🤷‍♂️

DU drow rejects Bhaal because he finds the world to be fun, he finds the people in it to be interesting and strange and he doesn't see any benefit to getting rid of it. Wyll may get on his nerves but he wants so badly to see the day where he snaps and stands up for himself, Halsin is annoying but boy have him and Astarion had a riot making fun of him behind his back, him and Jaheira get on each other's nerves for fun and Minsc is a living fascination - not to mention the endless NPCs that provide a moment's entertainment. Yes, Shadowheart sparing the Nightsong and Astarion's lifestory played a big part in his choices, but I think a base had to be set first, otherwise he could have very easily twisted the lesson's he learned from them into something that fit the pro-Bhaal narrative. He doesn't want to kill the world, the world is hysterical to him.

Also, BG3 seems to have a theme about showing compassion and extending empathy even to people who don't deserve it. A lot of its characters are the opposite of nice and personable throughout the vast majority of the game, and what you end up clinging to are glimpses of humanity that they try to hide from you - Shadowheart is objectively exhausting to be around, Lae'zel is literally and figuratively a social alien, Astarion is Astarion and realistically we would have all blasted him into the horizon team-rocket-style if he wasn't funny. I hated all three of these characters going into the game and now they own my balls, because they ultimately charmed me with something or other despite their flaws.

(They are also all hot, to be fair, but this is a fantasy video game so what'reyougonnado. Though personally none of them are my type.)

Sorry about the tangent, but I think that gets my point across well; DU drow needs to be given the benefit of the doubt for absolutely no good reason, as long as that happens, he would have no motivation in the slightest to turn to Bhaal. Even if romanced, a socially ostracized DU drow could not be persuaded to turn away from his father.

In the gameplay, this would translate to the MC encouraging him to see the silver-lining in things, either by showing kindness and understanding or emphasizing the entertaining moments they've provided you with; also, playing along to his mean-streaked humor instead of reprehending him for not always having a kind thing to say about everybody. You have to either see the best in him, or turn people into a joke instead of a threat. Done that, he would move into Act 3 without any inclination to take Bhaals's gift.

On the flipside, I think a romanced partner could persuade a "good" DU drow to consider it, though. By valuing his strength and potential-influence instead of his personality, he would arrive at the conclusion that to keep you, he must continue to pursue power, which would ultimately land you in the place Astarion ends up in his Bhaalist AU.

#ask #du drow #companion du drow #bg3 spoilers

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wihellib · 2 days

Text

I wanted to talk a bit about the Comiket Popularity Vote. The full list can be found here.

Levi was voted as #1 with almost 1500 votes above the 2nd place Beel. He wouldn’t have been my pick, but this result doesn’t really surprise me. His character archetype is very popular in Japan.

Satan being third is interesting simply because he is usually so dominant whenever the polls are conducted here on tumblr. But it just goes to show you that different fandom spaces can have very different opinions on characters.

I am surprised that Belphie is behind Michael, seeing as he is a King and I really thought all the Kings would have top ranks, but Michael managed to sneak himself in there. Well, he is very pretty. Good for him.

Then, Zagan was 8th and had the top spot of all the lower ranks. This came of nowhere for me. I am very neutral on Zagan. I can see his appeal but not so much that it’s above literally every other lower rank as well as L characters like Gabriel and Raphael. I am very curious about what makes him so attractive to the fans at Comiket.

The results seem to mostly follow the pattern of: more screen time = a higher spot. Not totally though, there are some outliers. Astaroth being so high up is odd, since we haven’t seen him in the main story and only minimally in events.

Belial and Stolas’ positions are also odd for the inverse reason. We’ve seen them quite a lot, Belial is even in the main story and has an H scene, but they are in the bottom 3. I am curious about the reason for their dislike.

Now, the fact that you could vote multiple times for the same guy skewed the results a bunch I’m sure. I would have liked to see the breakdown of single votes only and how that would have changed the placements.

I really hope they’ll do more more polls like this, but open it up to everyone who plays the game. Other gacha games have an announcement in game that they’re having a survey, and you can click a link that takes you to a website where you can give your opinions to specific questions. There’s no reason WHB can’t do this.

Everyone who is a fan of the game should get a voice in which lower rank demon will get an L card, not just a specific group of people.

The most fair (and comprehensive) way to do this would be a ranked choice poll. You choose your top three S and/or A+ rank demons, where 1st gets 3 points, 2nd gets 2 Points, and 3rd gets 1 point. Adding up all the points, whoever has the most will be people’s overall most wanted.

#what in hell is bad #whb #what in “hell” is bad?#whb poll #whb rambles #whb leviathan #whb satan #whb belphegor #whb michael #whb zagan #whb belial #prettybusy what in hell is bad #prettybusy what in “hell” is bad?

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linkspooky · 3 days

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How to write the perfect revenge story with Kohaku-Sensei! What Tsukihime does better than Avatar the Last Airbender.

So a follower asked me why Kohaku was my favorite of the Tsukhime girls after I made an offhand comment on my Ciel/Noel post on how Kohaku is the perfect take on revenge. Both Noel and Kohaku's story arcs are near perfect revenge tragedies that make their characters the standouts in Tsukihime. I tried writing up just why I thought Kohaku's character was good but it kept turning into a carbon copy of this post by comun right here. Eventually I decided to dig deeper.

Why does Kohaku's revenge story work so well? Why does every other revenge story suck so hard in comparison? See the thing is I hate a lot of revenge stories in fiction because they are very shallow, black and white tales of the good guy giving the bad guy everything he deserves.

In other words, I'm disappointed by most omdern revenge stories because they display a critical lack of understanding of how cycles of abuse start in the first place, and how both sides on the conflict no matter what are equally human. Perhaps that's why Kinoko Nasu writes revenge so well, because he's a deeply humanist author who's not really focused on good guys or bad guys but rather just understanding the characters involved.

So to show just how well Tsukihime humanizes Kohaku as both victim and villain of the story, I'm going to compare it to one of the worst revenge stories I've read in fiction. Both of these stories are tragedies that kill their main character, a victim who just wanted revenge for the long abuses they'd suffered in life. However, one of these is Tsukihime, and the other one sucks. So without further ado under the cut.

ORESTES THE FIRST REVENGE STORY

So Yun is a character from a spinoff novel prequel of Avatar the Last Aribender, focusing on the life of Avatar Kyoshi. In a lot of ways Yun is like Noel. He's a completely new character, thrown into the backstory of an already established character. He also steals the show because he's allowed to be a lot more flawed and act as a villainous foil to the main character, Yun even acts as a Jungian shadow the second novel is literally called the shadow of Kyoshi.

However, there's one major difference Noel's character greatly enhances Ciel's even if she is fridged for Ciel's character development. Whereas Yun's character and the eventual ending the story gave him ruined any kind of enjoyment I could have had from the story for Kyoshi's character. In fact, I think Yun's death made the whole story fall apart thematically.

Which is ironic because it was the exact same ending. Noel's character ends with her dying by Ciel's hands. Kyoshi kills Yun with her own two hands in order to stop his revenge. In both stories the victim dies so why does one frustrate me to no end and the other ending elevates Tsukihime to one of my favorite pieces of fiction?

The devil is in the details.

Revenge stories are by their nature tragedies. It makes sense for them to, for the most part with a few hopeful exceptions have bad endings. Taking personal revenge against every single person who's hurt you grievously no matter how deserved that revenge might be does not solve the problem. In fact it creates several new problems.

This is pretty well explored tragedy in fiction, all the way back to The Oresteia. Orestes is the son of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra. If you know anything about the trojan war you should recognize those names.

The story begins like this, King Agamemnon of Mycenae offends the goddess Artemis by killing one of her stags. So, in retaliation she prevents the greek troops from reaching troy by taking the wind out of their sails, unless Agamemmnon kills his oldest daughter Iphigenia. Agammemnon drags his daughter away from his wife Clytemnestra who was crying and begging him not to and offers her as human sacrifice. Ten years later when Agamemnon returns home he finds his wife sleeping with another man, and the two of them together butcher him to avenge iphigenia.

Then in order to avenge her father's death, elektra urges her brother Orestes to kill their mother and the man she committed adultery with. Orestes eventually goes through with it out of duty to his father, but because he's committed the clan of kin slaying the gods send the furies after him to chase him down and torment him.

The revenge just continues to cycle. Orestes doesn't right a wrong by avenging his father's murderer, he just commits kin slaying a taboo among the gods. Even though he felt he had an obligation too because he couldn't let his father's murderer live, the gods don't let him live in peace. Orestes would have been chased by the Furies for the rest of his life if Athena didn't intervene and basically hold the first court case in order to rule if it was really just to punish Orestes like this.

The point of my long foray into greek mythology is that no matter how entitled each person in the revenge cycle might have felt to their revenge, in the end they were committing a horrible act. Clytemnestra was avenging her daughter against the man who killed him, but she alienated her other two children. Orestes was duty bound to avenge his father, but he still killed his own mother with his two hands. At each link in the chain there's no real innocent parties, and the moment you take revenge you become a perpetrator in this cycle of abuse as well.

That is I think a central concept that the greeks understood but many modern authors fail to grasp, that revenge is a cycle during which any time a person can become a victim of it, and also a perpetrator of it. It's not a matter of internal goodness or badness but rather an uncontrollable cycle of violence that people get caught up in.

What revenge stories should be about is escaping the cycle. When the character manages to escape like Orestes and live for something other than revenge that's a happy ending, but when the character fails to escape that's a tragedy. Whether or not a character actually accomplishes their revenge is a footnote.

The Count of Monte Cristo accomplishes most of his revenge but the act of revenge isn't what saves him, but rather the faithful love of Haydee who had always been by his side and the words "wait and hope." The Count isn't saved by the revenge he took on all the people who hurt him, but by the strength he had to wait through a terrible situation until it got better and then live on to the better future. Carrie accomplishes her revenge in burning down the school gymnasium and all of her bullies, then goes home and dies a few minutes after killing her mom the last of her abusers unable to escape the cycle.

While their endings are opposites, in both cases completing their revenge didn't give them any measure of peace at all. In fact, the Count almost in the course of his revenge committed a sin far worse than anyone had done to him by killing a newborn infant. No, any good revenge story should know that in the words of percy from Critical Role you can't murder your way to peace.

"There was nothing I could’ve done to save my family, yet I still sold my soul in search of vengeance. Later I allowed Ripley to leave, knowing full well she was a greater threat to the world than the Briarwoods would ever be. I traded the world’s safety for the belief that I could murder my way to peace; that if I could be a greater horror, it would bring my family back. And once this lie was shattered I scrambled to find a solution, to make a deal, to undo my mistakes and balance the scales. I now understand that there are no scales, there is no redemption, and no ledger that judges me good or evil. I am free to simply be myself and live with the terrible mistakes I’ve made." -Percy's Death Letter, Critical Role

In most revenge stories I've noticed that revenge is the main character motivator for the character taking revenge. Therefore the conflict becomes whether or not they can find something new to live for by the end of the story. The characters seeking revenge often make that revenge their entire reason for living, but then what next?

This quote from Oldboy a modern adaptation of the Count of Monte Cristo is relevant.

Seeking revenge is the best cure for someone who got hurt Try it The loss of 15 years the pain of losing your wife and child you can forget all this Once again revenge is good for your health But... What happens after you've revenged yourself?

What happens after you've revenged yourself should be the central question to these revenge arcs. The ones who don't have an answer to that question and are unable to free themselves from the cycle are the ones who end in tragedy.

YUN VS KOHAKU

Yun and Kohaku are characters from a western animated series that adopts eastern themes and a Japanese visual novel about vampires. These two characters come from very different genres of stories, an adventure story about magical warriors using martial arts to bend the elements and a horror story about vampires and serial killers respectively.

However, because both Yun and Kohaku are the central figures of a revenge tragedy they end up having a lot in common. The largest common thread between them is that both of them is that they are child abuse victims, specifically the victims of long term grooming.

They are children who were adopted and then groomed by their father figure for years. In Kohaku's case, it was sexual grooming, whereas in Yun's case it was grooming him into a child soldier. The official definition of child grooming works for both of these cases, it is when an adult forms a relationship with a child to sexually assault them or induce them into doing something dangerous or harmful to them.

Kohaku and Yun are more obscure characters though so for the sake of people who haven't read one or both of these series I'm going to go more into depth on their individual circumstances.

Kohaku is an empath, born with the ability to transfer energy to other people through sexual intercourse. She and her sister were brought into the Tohno Clan, because Makihisa Tohno the elder had demon blood in his veins. This demon blood made him at risk of going through a process called inversion, where he would slowly lose all his mind, all reason, and violently attack everyone around him until he was finally put down. In order to mitigate that risk, Makishisa engaged in regular sexual intercourse with a young Kohaku and made use of her abilities as an empath to control his demon side.

As the elder of twin sisters Kohaku made a deal with Makihisa that she'd let him use her whenever she needed as long as he never touched her sister. Since he kept his word to her, she found it hard to resent him in the long term. Also, because she was constantly high on drugs that made it impossible for her to feel pain.

"So, I took in everything Makihisa-sama wanted to do. I asked him not to touch Hisui-chan because I would take everything myself. He was probably ashamed and agreed to my request. He probably also thought it was better that as few people knew about this secret as possible."

Kohaku is eventually sent to take care of Makihisa's son who also inverted, but when he loses control and rapes her too that's when she loses her last bit of humanity and starts to think of revenge.

At this point she starts to think of herself as an unthinking doll who cannot move for herself, and can only move for revenge. She eventually starts to move against Makishia, first by informing Akiha and Hisui of the abuse she's suffered. She's surprised when Akiha immediately protests what he farther was doing right away, and the sexual liason ends and Kohaku becomes a normal servant. However, even after the abuse ends Kohaku decides to continue living for revenge leading to the main plot of the Far Side of Tsukihime.

Yun is the false avatar. If you've heard of Avatar then I'm sure you at least vaguely know of the concept of the avatar, spiritual guide in the world of avatar that reincarnates over and over again to guide both humanity and the spirits.

In the avatar prequel novels it's established each nation has its own way of tracking down the avatar, but because Kuruk died early and under mysterious circumstances the earth nation was in a panic to find the next avatar. Instead of waiting for more sure confirmation, they picked one random kid on the side of the road on what was basically a hunch that he was Kuruk's reincarnation. This kid was named Yun, a nameless but smart kid with no parents who was conning people by playing Pai Sho really really well. While all along the next avatar Kyoshi was right next to them as one of Yun's servants.

Yun is trained as the avatar through years, and is put through the kind of training that only the Zoldyck family from Hunter x Hunter would approve in. Including being forced to walk on spiked caltrops to learn bending, and being forced to microdose on poison to gain an immunity. Like, this is literally what Killua's parents did to him in HXH.

"I'm surprised you can move," Jianzhu said to him, more impressed than anything else. "Poison training," Yun spat through clenched jaws. "With Sifu Amak, remember? Or did you forget every darker exercise you put me through?"

Yun is a genius earth bender, a brilliant statesman, he works all around the clock to become the avatar everyone is telling him he's destined to be but he's not physically capable of bending any element other than earth. To the point where after a year of failing to learn fire, his bending teachers frequently lambast him as being lazy and not trying hard enough.

"Your situation isn't unique" Hei-Ran went on. "History is full of Avatars like you who tried to coast on their talents. You're not the only one who wanted to take it easy." Yun slipped. An event rare enough to notice. His motion took him too far outside his center of gravity, and he stumbled on his knees. Sweat stung his eyes, ran into the corner of his mouth. Take it easy? Take it easy? Was she ignoring the fact he spent sleepless nights poring over scholarly analyses of Yanghcen's political decisions? That he'd extensively memorized the names of every Earth Kingdom noble, Fire Nation commander, and Water Tribe Chieftan back three generations on the living and the dead? The forgotten texts he'd used to map the ancient sacred sites of the Air Nomads to such a degree that Kelsang was surprised about a few of them? That's who he was when no one was looking. Someone who dedicated his whole being to his Avatarhood. Yun wanted to make up for the lost time he'd squandered by being discovered so late. He wanted to express gratitude to Jianzhu and the entire world for giving him the greatest gift in existence. Taking it easy was the last thing on his mind. [Literally a few seconds later...] "In the old days, masters used to maim their students for insubordination," she said horsely. Yun restrained himself from flinching, "What wonderful modern times we live in."

So Yun is physically and emotionally abused by all of his teachers, Jianzhu, Hei-Ran and several other adults who were complicit with it to train him up into being the avatar. Then, when it turns out Yun isn't the avatar, he's immediately abandoned and left for dead.

Yun gets dragged into the spirit world as a human sacrifice to a horrifying spirit known as Father Glow Worm. He is abandoned by his master who makes no attempt to save him the moment he learned that he wasn't the avatar. Then, in the spirit world he fights Father Glow Worm for days and eventually has to eat him in order to escape home.

After getting to a random village he asks for water. Yun is mocked by a man he saved earlier fo rasking for a single glass of water. When the man throws the water on the ground and tells him to water bend it, Yun snaps and then kills the man who mocked him, the city guard, and everyone who was sitting in the teashouse and has his Geto moment. He decides to start living for revenge against all of the teachers who abused him.

"Well," he said out loud to no one. "It looks like I've been fired." Perhaps it was for the best. He would need the free time, because he had a losit of things to do. lots of personal business to take care of. And at the top of the list was paying his respects to Jianzhu. Filled with new purpose, Yun took off down the road, whistling as he went.

Both of these characters decide to make revenge their reason for living. To quote Oldboy, "Seeking revenge is the best cure for someone who got hurt. Try it." They also face the same fundamental issue, now that they're only living for revenge then what happens after they've revenged themselves?

These characters are also similar in a couple of other ways. They are schemers who mainly work through manipulating others. Yun fakes a political conflict between the fire nation royal family and another noble family in order to bring one of his abusers into the crossfire. Kohaku manipulates both SHIKI and Shiki through the use of drugs to orchestrate her revenge in the Far Side Routes.

They're also both trickster characters. Yun refers to himself as a clown and constantly hides everything behind a smile. "He added that smirk that everyone said reminded them of Kuruk's. After all, a clown needed his makeup." A major part of Kohaku's character is that after Hisui learned about how her sister was being abused she stopped smiling. Kohaku wanting her sister to be happy, started to fake a smile and goof around the way Hisui used to because she wants to see her sister smile again.

One more similarity before I begin dissecting their differences and the way these two characters are handled is that if Kohaku and Yun were the main characters of the story their revenge would undoubtably be framed as one hundred percent justified. If they were the main characters it would definitely be a kill bill situation.

I don't think they are justified, because straightforward revenge is boring. The fact that they are antagonists is the point of each story. I'm just making an underlying point on how a lot of revenge stories suffer from protagonist centered morality. It's alright if Maki Zen'in, or The Bride kills upwards of a hundred people in retaliation for the harm that was done to them and we're supposed to root for them without thinking too deeply on it because they're the protagonists of the story. Protagonist centered morality is bad, because it makes things too centered on the protagonist and therefore if the morality of a piece of based on the protagonist it will make things too easy and the protagonist will go unchallenged.

In fact, in the story of Tsukihime itself, the entire Tohno family thinks that Kohaku 100% has the right to take revenge against them. Akiha is fully aware of Kohaku's revenge scheme. She lets Kohaku get away with her revenge every step of the way, including taking what is essentially a bullet on purpose and dying for Kohaku's revenge scheme because she believes her family deserves it.

However, because they are not the protagonists they don't get the easy route of taking their revenge against the people who deserve it and then riding off into the sunset happily. No, Kohaku practically gets her revenge handed to her on a silver platter and still revenge doesn't fix anything.

Once again, revenge is good for your health, but...

WHAT HAPPENS AFTER YOU'VE REVENGED YOURSELF?

Yun and Kohaku are both characters who either lost everything, or had no reason to live to begin with and decided to make revenge a reason for living. Both of them were unable to keep living for revenge because revenge is unsustainable. It's not something you do once and you're done, it's a cycle. The act of participating in it continues to perpetuate the cycle. As a result both of them met their tragic end.

However, Kohaku's tragedy surpassed Count of Monte Cristo for my favorite revenge story in all of fiction, whereas Yun's ending made me want to rip his book in half.

There are some differences in how their revenge stories play out. Kohaku is a very unique character. In spite of being an emotionless doll, she takes her revenge not out of anger or hate but empathy. I can't word it better than Comun so I'll just quote their post:

Hisui route ends with the reveal that Kohaku masterminded the demise of the Toono family and her motives are pretty obvious but I never expect the way she felt about it. Kohaku describes herself as not as a human, but as Makihisa’s emotionless doll. Kohaku had to constantly intake pain-removing drugs in order to endure Makihisa’s (and latter SHIKI’s) abuse and this state of not feeling anything disconnected her from her emotions. Kohaku admits that, to some extent, she did all of this because it made her feel human a little. What you would expect from this premise? Kohaku channelling her remnants of humanity into hatred for the Toono family and orchestrating her revenge. Was that what really was on her mind? Nope, Kohaku (and Kinoko himself, as Fate/Grand Order is a great evidence of) has a much more positive definition of what it means to be human. Kohaku expresses her humanity through fairness, empathy and a desire to make the situation better. Even though, Makihisa singlehandedly completely ruined her life, she acknowledges that he didn’t do it out of sadism or perversion, he did because he really had no other choice in order to keep himself from inverting and causing even bigger harm to everyone. Kohaku sees Makihisa as much of a victim of this tragedy as herself.

Kohaku's revenge actually takes a twisted form of empathy. Kohaku doesn't have the standard revenge motivation of just wanting to hurt the people who hurt her, because she can objectively see the points of view of almost everyone involved in the tragedy.

It's a bit like Orestes where there's no true beginning or end point. Makihisa is a sick pervert and the instigator, but he also didn't choose to be born with demon blood that made him liable to turn insane at any moment. SHIKI is kind of helpless in all of this, as another person with demon blood he couldn't help inverting at nine years old and going completely insane, he's not really in control of his actions. Hisui is an innocent, and while Akiha is a part of the same family the moment she learned what Kohaku was suffering she stood up for Kohaku and made it stop.

"But, there wasn't anything else I could do. Without a purpose like that, I couldn't live. A doll cannot move on its own. Without anything to guide it, it can't move." "But still--" ...... That is unforgivable.

Comun frames Kohaku's motivations as genuinely believing the world would be better off without the Tohno bloodline, because it only has caused everyone involved with it suffering. Therefoer she makes a plan to kill every member of the family, except for Hisui and Shiki who are technically innocents, and then herself finally so Hisui can run off into the sunset together with Shiki who she'd always loved.

I'd also add that on top of empathy there's also a certain justice in her actions. Not justice in the sense that she has to hurt the people who hurt her, more like justice in the sense of fairness? Like, Kohaku isn't driven by personal hatred but rather a desire to make things fair and balance the scales. A family like the Tohno who cause misery to everyone shouldn't exist, because people shouldn't have mixed their blood with demons in the first place. There has to be a consequence to Makihisa's actions because you can't get away with child rape and the only one who could enforce it was her. The same way that Kohaku considers everyone's opinion equally and considers everyone equal victims in this twisted family cycle of revenge, Kohaku also acts to make things more fair.

To quote Percy again, it's like she's trying to balance the ledgers.

"And once this lie was shattered I scrambled to find a solution, to make a deal, to undo my mistakes and balance the scales. I now understand that there are no scales, there is no redemption, and no ledger that judges me good or evil."

Kohaku's also constructing a narrative around her pain. She needs a reason to keep living, and that reason is the narrative she's constructed, the story she told herself that she only half believes that everyone would be better off if everyone associated with the Tohnos, herself included, except for Hisui and Shiki died off.

Of course this is just a narrative. A lie she is telling herself to justify her actions. Because Kohaku acts out of fairness, and empathy, but she also acts for the sake of acting. She wants a reason to move, because otherwise she would just be a doll, passively enduring suffering. The story she tells herself is in the end a lie, like all stories are. Kohaku ignores the feelings of two people in her assumption that everyone would be better off without the Tohnos, that is her own personal feelings towards Akiha, and Hisui's feelings towards her. Kohaku understands that the reason Hisui can't smile any more is that she's too horrified at all the things her sister endured to protect her. However, she can't grasp that killing herself in front of Hisui would just make Hisui live with that guilt forever. That Hisui would rather be miserable with her sister alive than happy with her dead.

(From the good ending)

"Nee-san......? Nee-san, hold on......!!" A desperate cry. Seeing that, the girl smiles like a child. "...... Huh? ...... Don't do that, Hisui-chan. Crying like that, it feels...... like back then." "What---Nee-san, why----" "...... Yeah, because if I, don't do, so, you won't be, able to return, to the way, you were." Her words in pieces, and with glazed eyes, she speaks to Hisui. "---------Nee, san." Hisui's face contorts in grief. Her tears flood her face. "...... Why? That's fine. I was okay with the way I was. If you were happy, then I was happy. I---I was always protected by you, so---" I was always happy. Painfully, she swallows her last words.

Yun is in comparison less magnanimous towards his abusers. He wants more straightforward revenge against his teachers and all the people who "lied" to him by promoting him as the false avatar.

This is the biggest area where he differs from Kohaku. Rather than Kohaku, I'd say he's more like Geto, someone with a savior complex who genuinely put their all into being good because they believed they had the responsibility to save people, only to be then betrayed by those same people they were working so hard to save.

I do still think empathy is the central motivation for both characters. Kohaku commits revenge out of a twisted sense of empathy to see the perspectives of everyone involved and decides the only way to fix everything is to destroy it all and wipe the board clean and give the two innocents in the Tohno Household a fresh start.

Geto and Yun are both high empathy individuals whose empathy for other people twists them so much when they're confronted by human ugliness and selfishness, that they end up turning on the same people they wanted to save. They feel a bone deep empathy that twists them into monsters because they're not able to exist in an unfair or imperfect world that isn't the way they imagined it to be.

'...no matter what, I hate non-sorcerers. But it's not like I hate everyone at Jujutsu Tech. It's just...' It's just that it was what Geto had to do. In some ways, Geto and Yuuta were the same. Geto was too sincere. To someone like him, the reality that the world of sorcerers presented to him was just too cruel. '...that in a world like this, I couldn't be truly happy from the bottom of my heart.' To live for the purpose of being yourself. And for that goal, Geto could only continue to pursue his twisted dream, drowning himself in the curse that lies in the gap between ideal and reality. This was the final confession of a man who could only choose to warp himself, who had erased himself in pursuit of his goals. The only person who could bear such a curse was Gojo Satoru. JUJUTSU KAISEN ZERO LIGHT NOVEL

Geto is broken by the idea that all of his comrades and himself are considered expendable, and they're all meant to sacrifice themselves for an ignorant public. Yun is broken by the fact he broke his body and mind trying to be a great avatar because he wanted to help people, only to learn that it was all for nothing because he was discarded the moment it turned out he wasn't the avatar.

(Yun is more Morgan Coded but that's a different post).

It was too late. "I dedicated my life to people like you." Yun said. He couldn't tell if he was laughing, crying, croaking out beastial sounds of fury. "I wanted you to thrive. I wanted you to prosper. I tried so hard."

However, I'd say both of them Kohaku and Yun are driven by an underlying idea of fairness. They're not taking bloody violent revenge for personal gratitude, but because they can't cope with the unfairness of the world they're living in and are trying to find some ways to balance the scales.

Yun is so driven by fairness that he doesn't want to punish Kyoshi even though she technically stole the title of avatar from him. He considers her innocent of the whole thing, and even sympathizes with her and the struggles she carries right now as avatar.

"I can't believe you think I would ever hurt you." He gently tugged the closed fan out of her right hand. "You, the one innocent party in this whole affair! I would never hurt you, Kyoshi! For Yanghcen's sake, I used to be your whole life.!" He dropped the weapon and it pinged against the ground. "I know what's happening here. Your duties have gotten to you haven't they? I remember what it was like, carrying the weight of Four nations on my shoulders. Jianzhu used to liken them to unruly students in a classroom, requiring the guidance of a strong hand." He paused and chuckled, "I used to believe it meant showing the wya, leading my example. Now I know better. The world is a child refusing to listen, creaming in a tantrum. It needs to be slapped a few times until it learns to be quiet."

I think this is essentially the difference that makes one narrative and breaks the other. Nasu is fully aware of Kohaku's humanity even as she calls herself a doll. He goes to great length to demonstrate Kohaku's humanity in all the ways I pointed out above, by showing how much she sympathizes with others, by how she protected her sister, by how she's guided by principles.

More than anything, it sympathizes with Kohaku by making us as the reader understand that while she did bad things it was in retaliation to an even more horrible evil done to her. Also, that Kohaku only did these things because revenge was the only way she could think of to live, Kohaku was just a victim coping in the worst way imaginable. I think Nasu really nails down the hopelessness of someone who's clinging to revenge because they can't think of any other reason to live.

Whereas so much effort is put into Yun's backstory and detailing all of his suffering, only for him to be treated like a very standard villain. Like, honestly, Geto is a genocidal maniac and he's framed way more nicely by the story he's in than Yun. All Yun really wants to do is kill his abusers and that is apparently a sin too deep to continue living with.

Geto who does way worse things than Yun, and who is also killed by his former best friend is shown way more love and acceptance in his ending than Yun is.

This was the final confession of a man who could only choose to warp himself, who had erased himself in pursuit of his goals. The only person who could bear such a curse was Gojo Satoru. Where did it go wrong? And how could they start over again? The answer was left in their far-away, far-away youth. And even considering everything that had happened until now, it was clear that this story was about to end. But, there was one thing that was concrete. Even if everything was different now, there was still one thing that - from the very moment it all started - had never changed. Gojo knelt down, meeting Geto's eyes as he sat there. '...Suguru.' '...?' Geto Suguru. It was a named that the Jujutsu Tech organization feared: one of the four special grade sorcerers, who had killed over a hundred ordinary people, who had been named and exiled as the most evil curse use. But to Gojo Satoru, he was —— '————, ————' '...ha.' When he heard the words Gojo blurted out, Geto couldn't help but laugh. Such embarrassing (t/n: makes you self-conscious) words. Even why they were students, those words had never been said before. 'You should've at least cursed me a little before the end.'

In the actual manga of JJK too, Gojo tells a teenage ghost of Geto that if his adult self was there he was the only one who could have satisfied him. Gojo thinks about how he has to finally catch up to Geto after being left behind that day, when he moves on to kill the higher ups. Gojo's dream of protecting the youth came about because he never wanted someone to suffer alone like Geto did again.

Whereas, this is basically the only thing Yun gets told from his best friend and the hero of the story who is supposed to be the chosen spiritual guide of humanity chosen by the gods.

“It’s time to let go.” Kyoshi lowered her hands. “Whether you kill me here today or not, you have to let go of what happened.” “And it didn’t brting me peace. It was wrong that you were lied to, Yun. It was wrong for Jainzhu to do what he did, but he’s gone. Whatever pain and anger you have left - you have to live with it. You can’t put it on anyone else.”

Have you tried, uhhhhhh getting over it?

The "you have to live with it" is just particulary insensitive because as I went to great lengths to demonstate above, Yun was TRYING to live with it. Just like Kohaku, revenge was the only reason he could come up with to keep living.

It's fine if the heroes cannot find a way to reach out to save Yun in time and he dies because living for revenge is unsustainable. That's what happens to Kohaku, that's what happens to Geto. There's just a cruel lack of empathy in the way that Yun's death is framed. It's framed as a mercy killing, because Yun, a like eighteen year old boy who was retialiating against his abusers was just apparently so beyond hope. Not to mention that Kyohsi deliberately sides with one of the abusers and gives Hei - Ran a chance to redeem herself, but doesn't give that same chance to Yun her victim.

It's just this way that they characterize violence as bad but don't analyze at all where the violence came from or why they'd want to retaliate in that way. Gojo mercy killed his best friend Geto, but he also realized that the problem didn't begin with Geto and sought to create change in Jujutsu Society after Geto's death in order to try to break that cycle.

"I'm sorry for saying you have to live with your pain." Kyoshi put her palm into his chest in a gesture of comfort. "Because you won't." The cold she sent through his body formed a tunnel of ice between his ribs. It happened so fast, and with so much force, the air behind him turned to frost. With his heart and lungs frozen solid, Yun fell to the side.

Kyoshi kills Yun by freezing his heart. She specifically uses a technique that was taught to her to heal people, to murder him and put him out of his misery.

In the aftermath Kyoshi buries him and then lets the entire world remember him as a boy who went crazy and tried to kill the avatar. She doesn't even like... tell the whole story. That he was abused and lied to his whole life to clear his name.

Like, what a great friend.

This is what happened with Noel and Ciel too, but as I said in my Noel / Ciel post, Ciel killing Noel is meant to make her look like a terrible person. Noel is a victim caught up in circumstances, and Ciel could have saved her much earlier by lifting a finger and now that it's too late all Ciel can do is coldly put her out of her misery because Ciel isn't a hero. Shiki, a character who chops women into tiny little pieces has the opportunity to kill Noel a couple of times and doesn't do it, because he knows that killing her would be wrong and leaves it up to Ciel to decide.

Noel is fridged and dies a miserable death as a victim but it serves the greater story purpose of pointing out what a terrible hero that Ciel is. However, in avatar, the story still wants me to believe that Kyoshi is the hero so the only way they can accomplish that is by villainizing Yun and giving him an unsympathetic death.

if you wanted Yun's life to be some great tragedy, then you should let Kyoshi look bad. Let Yun died because Kyoshi completely failed to save him, have it be her wrongdoing. If you don't want Kyoshi to look bad, if you want her to be a hero then have her save Yun. You can only have it one way or the other. If the only way you can make Kyoshi still look like a hero is by victim blaming a victim of long term child abuse for not just getting over it then I don't know what kind of story you're writing there.

The writing just needs Yun to be a straightforward twist villain in the end for Kyoshi to defeat, so they downplay all of these good points and his status as the victim to make him fit into a more two dimensional role. If Yun is wrong because violence against his abusers won't solve his problem, then why is the solution for Kyoshi to just put him down with violence? Why is Kyoshi's violence sanctioned but Yun's violence not sanctioned? Kyoshi is allowed to kill Yun and put him out of his misery, but Yun can't kill his abusers? It's justice when Kysohi does it, but revenge when Yun does it? Kyoshi preaches that you can't stop the cycle with violence you have to let go then proceeds to end the cycle... by murdering Yun.

You can't preach this empty revenge bad message unless you're willing to look into why a character like Yun would want revenge in the first place, and how the world has failed him in ways that he thinks the only way to keep living is for revenge. You can't just tell him to let go without showing both him and the audience what letting go would look like.

This is exactly what Tsukhime did right with one of the most beautiful scenes in all of fiction, by showing that the cycle didn't end with Kohaku killing her abuser, and it didn't even end with Kohaku killing herself because each time she tried to enact revenge all she succesfully did was bring more pain into the world.

"But----" "Eh?" "But, there was just one strange thing." Really just a little bit. She said that as her eyes trailed off into the distance. "Akiha-sama protected me in the end. I knew there was a fifty-fifty chance she would do that. I stayed close to her for that reason. Revealing Makihisa-sama's abuse and devotedly helping Akiha-sama who was slowly turning nonhuman. ---Yes that's right. Really, I knew she would die protecting me." That smile. Even though she is smiling, she looks really sad, as if she's-- "But----I was really surprised at the time. Why is she protecting me? Why is she protecting me, risking her life?" ---She looks like she might burst into tears. "I still don't actually understand if I was actually happy or sad when Akiha-sama died. But when I wake up in the morning, I take tea to her room even though I know she is gone. Isn't this strange? Even though there's no one in that room anymore."

Kohaku thought she was relieving everyone of pain by killing the Tohno, that everyone would be better off, but the moment she succesfully kills Akiha she regrets it. It's all so hollow that she goes to Akiha's room every day for like a month leaving tea in front of her door.

Kohaku's identity is so wrapped up in pain, she forgets that in spite of the pain caused by those bonds there's also love. Hisui might not be able to smile because she feels constant guilt over how much Kohaku endured for her sake, but that doesn't mean Kohaku disappearing would fix that because she loves her sister.

Kohaku may think that Akiha is better off dead, that they're both better off dead because they only cause each other pain through their twisted connection but once Akiha is dead she goes to her door and leaves tea there every. single. day. because she valued her connection to Akiha so much.

Then she kills herself by gauging her knife out with a heart, mirroring Akiha who was pierced by the heart protecting Kohaku. "Hang in there...! Why, why did you do that...!" "Because revenge was the only thing I could do----I can only disappear when it's all over. I tried to find new springs, but I could never find one, and time ran out." She smiles. That... for no reason at all---- "What the hell is that? What are you saying...!" I look at the wound like I did to Akiha. ---She won't make it. It has pierced her heart. "........." Why? There was no reason---I just can't bear the sadness.

Revenge was unsustainable but because she couldn't be her genuine self in front of others, because she couldn't get in touch with her genuine feelings of affection for people like Akiha tshe couldn't find any other reason to live in time.

Even after Kohaku has just confessed to orchestrating the murder of Shiki's sister and terrorizing him for weeks on end, Shiki still begs for her to live though.

"...... Right? You're a normal girl who liked Akiha, was always worried about Hisui, and laughed when we talked about stupid things. So----" Even if she wished it and caused the deaths of Akiha and SHIKI... "--Kohaku, there was no reason for you to die." Increasing my grip, I say these words from the bottom of my heart.

I think that's ultimately what makes Kohaku's story superior, because it is at its heart a story about an abuse victim who couldn't find any better way of living. The story bends over backwards to show us all of Kohaku's good qualities, and how it's those good qualities that led to her fall, not any internal badness on her part. Even if Kohaku is someone who's capable of doing bad things and got a whole bunch of unrelated people serial killed by SHIKI. The tragedy is also on the onus of the main character. That's what the story of the ribbon is for, the whole thing could have been prevented if Shiki could give the ribbon to the proper girl in time. The whole thing is written with the premise that Shiki could have saved her, and he does in her route. It's as much of the main character's failure as Kohaku's.

On the other hand, the tragedy in Yun's story isn't that Yun is a longterm victim who didn't get the help he needed in time. It's that Kyoshi is sad because she has to put down her childhood friend like a mad dog. All of Yun's good traits are invalidated and he's painted as a villain to make the story simpler and as a result it's far more boring and doesn't have anything to say about abuse, or the human condition and how it survives terrible abuse like Nasu's writing does.

That's why Nasu is the goat.

At least until Tsukihime Remake comes out and Kohaku's route gets padded out with filler and turned into a giant extended boss fight that didn't need to exist at all that takes like five hours to finish NO I'M NOT BITTER ABOUT CIEL ROUTE'S TRUE END IN THE REMAKE AT ALL.

#kohaku #tsukihime #tsukihime meta #shiki #hisui #akiha #yun #avatar yun #avatar the last airbender #atla #geto suguru #lol this post goes weird places #avatar kyoshi #rise of kyoshi #shadow of kyoshi #kyoshi novels

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mxtxfanatic · 2 days

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@reinedeslys-central While I am enjoying our convo on that other post, I figured it would better to move it off of op's post since they haven't engaged with it. So in response to your last reblog, I don't think we're really disagreeing with each other for the most part, but I do have a question for you about when you said this:

It's weird for me to think he actually feels no remorse over his actions with the wen remnants though, because, hey, killing innocent people, so I guess that's why I'm more inclined to that interpretation of mixed feelings?

Why do you feel this way? Why is it "weird" that Jiang Cheng feel no remorse about this in canon? He certainly doesn't show remorse about it at any point in the text. He certainly never thinks about the wrongs he committed against the Wen remnants in the text as "wrongs." Jiang Cheng has a reputation for attacking, torturing, and killing a lot of people off the strength of his hatred for Wei Wuxian and the QishanWen along with him just being an overall bully (like at the Dafan Mountain hunt where he attacks smaller cultivators to force them to leave the competitive nighthunt). For me, to say that it would be strange for Jiang Cheng not to feel remorse is like saying it would be "strange" if Xue Yang didn't feel bad for all those villages he tricked Xiao Xingchen into massacring. Xue Yang didn't see those villagers as people deserving of life. Jiang Cheng didn't see the Wen remnants as people deserving of life, either.

Jiang Cheng brought Jiang Yanli to see Wei Wuxian because Jiang Yanli asked for it. Just like Wei Wuxian was invited to Jin Ling's 100-day celebration because Jiang Yanli asked for it, not because Jin Zixuan wanted to be nice all of a sudden. Jiang Cheng shouldn't get the credit for the idea just because he fulfilled it. On that note, the defection duel was agreed upon by Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng because Wei Wuxian refused to return the Wen remnants to the labor camp, and Jiang Cheng kept saying that it would affect the Jiang's reputation that he would do such a public thing while still a part of their clan. In this story, reputation doesn't mean shit if you have the power to put your money where your mouth is. But Jiang Cheng's character is that he is always seeking approval from figures he considers more esteemed than himself. So he could have stood up against the Jin and been fine, just like the Jin stood up for Xue Yang and were fine. His refusal to do so was pure vanity, not strategy.

As for how the Jiang were left off after the war: Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian didn't have to rebuild because Lotus Pier was never destroyed. Wen Chao and co. were living in it because it was the supervisory office. The only thing damaged in the place were the lotus symbols that the QishanWen had intentionally defaced. Whatever wealth the Jiang had was either kept in Lotus Pier, meaning it was reclaimed immediately with the reclamation of Lotus Pier, or it was transferred to Qishan, which means it was reclaimed after the war ended. On top of all that, all of the land and wealth of the QishanWen were split amongst the victorious clans of the Sunshot Campaign, likely with the biggest clans who contributed the most receiving the largest cut. Since Wei Wuxian was a one-man army key to the Sunshot Campaign's victory, that means the Jiang would get a good portion of this bounty, which means they would be richer than when the war started. And Jiang Cheng had recruited disciples during the war, while Wei Wuxian drew in cultivators during and after with his new cultivation. There's not a single piece of textual evidence that suggests the Jiang were struggling after the war, not material-wise and not reputation-wise. It was only Jiang Cheng who wanted to attach himself to the Jin Clan by any means necessary because the Jin were very overtly trying to fill the power vacuum that the QishanWen left behind in their downfall, and Jiang Cheng wanted on the boat.

#mdzs #def don't agree with you about wwx critical stuff #cause i have yet to see anything that's critical of wwx's canon actions #without it being someone superimposing their own ideas on morality over the story #and a lot of people have the same morality as the story's mob #but that's not the topic so #we seem to be in different time zones so answer whenever #there's no rush lol #quoting stuff takes so much effort to format but if you wanna know the chapters of where i'm pulling my info from just let me know too

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tyrantisterror · 15 hours

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What's the worst legacy sequel you've ever seen? What, in your opinion, separates a good legacy sequel from a bad legacy sequel and what's the worst thing you think a legacy sequel can do?

The worst that I've seen is probably Rise of Skywalker. It's close competition, though - both Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom and Jurassic World: Dominion have moments that are significantly more stupid than anything in Rise of Sky Walker, but I also think both have a bit more creative effort put into them - Fallen Kingdom has that third act where it basically becomes a Resident Evil adaptation except with a murder-saurus in place of the Tyrant, and Dominion has the whole locust plotline which, while terrible, is at least an unexpected direction for a Jurassic Park sequel to go into that tries to figure out something ELSE you could do with the genetic engineering premise of the franchise beyond just making dinosaurs. Like, all three Jurassic World movies have big problems and they get progressively dumber with each installment, but they're also all ambitious to some degree that I still feel respect for, even if they never really actually reach those lofty aspirations.

Rise of Skywalker, on the other hand, has no ambitions at all. It has nothing it wants to say, no unique twists to pull, no real identity of its own. It's a potroast made of leftovers from better movies, a resuscitated corpse of something much more interesting, patched together like a Frankenstein's monster and abandoned to a cruel world just as callously.

It has no desire to do anything new, merely a checklist of Things You've Seen Before That the Focus Groups Say You'd Probably Like to See Again. Any character that can be slipped into an arc that was done in a previous Star Wars film is slipped into one no matter how little sense it makes for them, and any character who can't is either forced to tread water with nothing to do (hi Finn!) or just quietly shoved off to the side early on and forgotten about (hi Rose!).

Any story beats that weren't in the original films are simply grabbed from a box that reads "time tested cliches to keep your script moving with minimal effort." Make the plot a treasure hunt so we can just race from scene to scene with the flimsiest justification possible and try and trick the audience into thinking something is actually happening! What's that, audience interest is flagging? Quick, throw in a cameo of someone from an older movie! What's that, they're bored again? Pretend to kill one of the old characters, but make sure to reveal they actually lived in no more than two scenes down the line, or else we might piss off the fanboys! Hey, let's look at the Cinema Sins videos for the original movies and see if there's some gripes we can "fix" with this one for added fan cred! Can't disappoint our audience!

It's the story-telling equivalent of smothering something in salt to cover up the funky taste of the close-to-the-expiration-date ingredients.

As for what makes a good vs. a bad legacy sequel... ok, so, let's define legacy sequel first. A legacy sequel is a film or TV show that is a sequel to a popular film or TV series that ended a good many years ago, which brings back some of the old cast of characters (generally played by the same, and thus much older, actors that played them in the past) along with adding a new cast of characters played by younger actors. It tries to replicate the tone of the original series despite being made in a different era and probably by different writers and directors, and generally aims to give you that Ratatouille style moment of nostalgia.

I think most Legacy sequels are kind of doomed to be mediocre at best on the outset because the goal of them from the moment of conception is so mercenary - they're not created to Tell A Good Story, they're created to Keep Consumers Invested in a Lucrative Content Franchise. They have the artistic aspirations of a McDonald's Hamburger - "This tastes exactly like what you had as a kid, and doesn't that make you crave more of it?"

I don't think that art made for mercenary reasons is doomed to be bad, mind you - I mean, almost ALL movies and television were made to make money first and foremost. Even the classic High Art movies I love like Seven Samurai and The Third Man were made for mercenary reasons at the end of the line - it didn't stop the people who were working on them from having artistic goals, but it's a fact nonetheless.

But Legacy Sequels just have an uphill battle in the "artistic aspirations" department, because most people with artistic aspirations don't want to recreate the feeling someone else inspired with their art - they want to put their own stamp on it, their own spin, their own voice. And that will often mean something VERY different will be made, something that might piss of the fans - something that doesn't taste like the McDonald's hamburger you had as a kid, even though it came in the same wrapper.

The worst parts of Legacy Sequels are the only parts that Rise of Skywalker is made of - the parts where the story is clearly only trying to show you things you know, only trying to reheat the leftovers so they taste like your memories, only trying to trick the nostalgia center of your brain that you're four years old again eating at McDonald's. "Here's the thing you know! Here's the running gag you liked, repeated five more times by actors with far less enthusiasm! Here's the same basic premise as the first film, but the stakes have been inflated to make it feel like a progression! Cameos! Catch phrases! Eat your hamburger, you consumer pig!"

The rare good legacy sequels don't really TRY to be legacy sequels. They're just... sequels. Another story in the same world as the first, bringing back the characters who actually have interesting arcs left in them, creating new characters with their own shit going on who have good chemistry with the pre-established characters and setting, expanding on themes from the original and exploring parts of the setting that hadn't been explored yet, and all in all telling their own story that's related to the first one's but still manages to be its own distinct thing.

There are not many good legacy sequels, because a good legacy sequel is different than the McDonald's hamburger you ate when you were four, and might make less money than desired because of it.

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feathered-mushrooms · 2 days

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I like creative mind projects. This became one of them.

Alright let’s set the basics of this ‘show’. The Xavier Institute, situated in Salem, Westchester, is run by Charles Xavier. A professor, doctor, and world renowned author and scientist. However he possesses a secret, a discovery he made on his travels abroad: mutants. He has returned home and opened a school for those said mutants, and we follow his ‘first class’.

Our main characters, at least for season one, would be the og five. Scott, Jean, Warren, Bobby, and Hank. And guess what? The school actually is a school. They take classes taught by Charles, and do superhero stuff on the side. Here is their everyday clothes:

Think the vibes of X-men Evolution. The show would focus on the dual life of the kids, but would also focus on them being kids. The trouble they get into, the antics they get up to. The drama that comes with being a teenager. Additional clothes(on colder days)

So what is everyone’s backstory?

Scott Summers Scott has a very similar life to the one we know. Parents dead in a plane ‘accident’ and him being separated from his brother in the foster care system. He goes from house to house until his mutation manifests. In which he is thrown into a few bad situations regarding his foster parent using him for his powers, before being found by Charles. Scott was the first student to live on campus, but by far not the first student, however he sees Scott as a father(even if Charles doesn’t see him as his son). He is a mix of the cautious and rather reserved. He’s malnourished body earned him the nickname Slim, but don’t let the meek act fool you. He is sarcastic as you could imagine and has a very strong moral code. He will make a good leader.

Jean Grey Jean’s telekinesis came to her when she was young. Charles has been a constant figure in her life since then, almost taking on what she might call an ‘uncle’ role. He has been working with her for years, and was the first to know when her telepathy manifested, at the death of her best friend. To Charles, she was his first student, and the closest thing he feels he has to a kid. She joins the team last, the premier episode being about her moving into the mansion. She is feisty and spirited. The most reckless of the five, but also oddly balanced in responsibly. She knows she’s powerful and she fears it.

Warren Worthington III Warren’s wings did not grow in until he was away at boarding school. Lucky for him, he could hide them well at first by dropping all the sports he played. Warren used to play the part of an upstuck rich kid very well, but that never was him. When his wings fully came in, he spent the nights saving people from muggers and robbers. He realized it felt good to do something his parents would never do. When Charles offered him a place at the school he toke it, and has been learning to move past his rich ego, however some habits are hard to break. Warren still loves posh language and loves the fact that he is the richest among his friends, but also has a genuine want to help others.

Bobby Drake Bobby always knew he was different. He was gay. Something he found very hard to hide. That was until he found out he was a mutant, something he could hide behind. Bobby’s manifestion consisted of him freezing his entire room and himself, in a very Elsa manner. His parents were outraged, which caused Bobby to realize he could never come out to his parents. Charles came and wiped his parents mind, making everything easier, but Bobby still has the secret he has told no one. A secret he still hasn’t fully realized himself. Bobby hides his self loathing and anxieties behind bad jokes that he hops will be funny. As the youngest on the team, he often deals with the need to prove himself.

Hank McCoy Hank was good at hiding. His physical mutation made him very ape like in appearance, but if he stood the right way, played his card rights, and knew the right people, he could make everyone look past it. He was a genius, but hid behind a football jock exterior, an explanation for his body that made people look past him. Hank joined the school under the belief that he would not need to pretend anymore, and so he let go of his football alter ego. He prefers his academic side and is interested in pursuing the world of knowledge. He has a very academic way of speaking, but oddly really understands human emotion. He pushes himself hard and loves any and every form of learning.

In this show, the X-men was created by Charles as a way to get the public ready for the announcement of mutants, but they become so much more. Charles originally thinks that if the public can see super-powered people helping the world, they will be less likely to attack those people. He designs his perfect team, and even designs their suits.

The team….likes them….kinda

Within the first season, mutants would be exposed to the public and the X-men’s fight focus on the fight of oppression and proving they can be good. Teased in the final moments of season one, Scott will reveal the x-costumes he has designed for everyone. These would be the suits worn from then on forward, representing a switch from being Xavier’s X-men to the X-men that fight for mutant kind.

Additionally we would have lots of very weird love triangles!! Hank is not apart of it, because he very easily finds Vera who becomes his girlfriend. Bobby has a crush on Scott however. He plans to go to the grave with this fact. Warren and Scott both like Jean. Maybe they like each other….who knows? Jean on the other hand has no care in the world for romance at the moment and misses every interaction.

Some of the prominent names that would show up in the first season is of course Magneto. Magneto would be the battle for the first episode, and then there for the reveal of mutants, and then the final battle. He is the big overarching ‘villian’. Other villains would consist of classic 60’s villains such as Vanisher and the rest of the brotherhood. However Scarlet Witch and QuickSilver would not appear till season 2.

Additionally Xavier has a divorcee(that’s not Erik shocker) that is Moria McTaggert. I love the idea of them being bitter exes that have tea with each other and talk shit. Moria is mainly a doctor in Scotland, but would make appearances when one of the kids get to injured. Additionally she has ties to the CIA and aides Charles that way.

Some Pjs and fancy references

Nonetheless, let me know if you want more. I have lots of ideas regarding this and would love to drill on and on again

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 2 days

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If I have to deal with brain rot about this absolutely awful man, so do y'all! Really looking forward to playing Dead Money so I can torture you with more.

Dean Domino (Fallout: New Vegas, Dead Money DLC) NSFW Headcanons

Is the King of Swing good in bed? Complicated question; he's too selfish to say that he is with any confidence. It depends on the day, frankly. He was a massive slut back in his prime, and he's perfectly well acquainted with how to show you a good time when the two of you are in bed together. Whether or not he cares enough in that moment to bother to make you cum is an entirely different matter. There are days he wants to show off, wants to hear you tell him how good he is, but there are also plenty of days where he'll happily use your body to jerk himself off and won't think for a second about your pleasure beyond what it'll do for him. On days like that, he wants you wet/stretched enough to take him, but that's all he cares about.

I've discussed this with folks a bit in replies on other posts, but I think it's very worth elaborating on: he would be so fun to dominate. He'd be the world's most petulant, bratty sub, and so confident that you wouldn't be able to break him, that he'll stay cool and in control of the situation, no problem. However, he's sorely mistaken. Dean Domino is a brat who was made to be broken. Tie his ass up and beat him a bit. Edge him until he literally cries. He insists he won't beg; prove him wrong. It's the sweetest sight you've ever taken in. I've never met a single character who needs to have his cock slapped like a million times more than him. And honestly, I think if you gave him the full routine and then treated him completely neutrally over the proceeding few days, as if nothing had even happened, he'd beg then, too, desperate to experience what you made him feel again...though not without a lot of petulant bitching first. How dare you act like you can drag him around by his prick, just because you absolutely can if you do it right...?!

Any ongoing relationship with Dean is going to be a constant power struggle. As insecure as he obviously is, he's forever rearing to "put you in your place" in a litany of ways; talking down to you, insulting you flippantly, all the nonsense you see from him when you interact with him in-game. If you don't push back at him (or show him where his place is, per the previous point), he will absolutely walk all over you, including sexually. Maybe that's what you're into. He doesn't really care all that much as long as he's getting whatever he wants out of you.

Biter. Always has been. Used to get a kick outta fucking actors and actresses and just covering them in bite marks and bruises that would be incredibly difficult to cover with makeup, because he likes attention and he's possessive, even of toys he doesn't particularly want to play with anymore.

Almost never takes off those goddamn sunglasses (because, in my mind, he thinks they make him harder to read...plus, he has super light-colored eyes, and once he's traveling the desert, he's constantly blinded by the sun), but one of the rare times you can guarantee he'll remove them is when you're giving him head. He wants to be able to see every detail of you worshiping him with your lips and tongue.

Obviously he's big into degradation, which is clear in the way he speaks to you, about you and others. He can, however, be persuaded to be rather sweet (though still entirely self-aggrandizing) when he's in a good mood. He'll tell you how gorgeous you look...on his cock. What a pretty voice you have...why don't you sing for him some more so he can hear how good he makes you feel? Every compliment also has to basically be a positive comment to himself, as well.

Leg and ass man. He makes some comments about Vera that hint at this, but he's not usually quite so tactful about it. Will openly grope you in public, both to embarrass you a bit and because he doesn't care enough to hold back when he feels like touching you.

Really enjoys a giving you a good cum facial. He finds it just the right mix of disgusting, dominating, and possessive. If he can find a way to force you to keep his cum on your face, he will. Even better if someone else sees you that way.

#dean domino #dean domino x courier six #dean domino x reader #fallout new vegas #fnv dead money #dead money

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mayapapaya33 · 3 days

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I am so torn, on the one hand I want the Calamity/Downfall type things to happen sparingly because they are special and if you do it wrong it fucks up Matt's carefully crafted world. On the other hand, I want more so badly, they are so good, Matt and Brennan together are a magnificent combination! I know the Divergence, or the Schism are popular candidates, but I want one that is set in a non-specific point during the Calamity with an unimportant cast of characters in an unimportant part of the world that history never recorded so that Matt can play a character, and Brennan can GM for him! And I want Liam to be there too, he wasn't in Calamity or Downfall! Give our Shakespearian sad boy his moment to shine in a tragedy!

I know Matt knows too much (he built it, of course he knows too much!) but why can't he Dariax-esque himbo his way through the Calamity in a group of survivors trying to get by. Maybe it's just a simple protection mission, trying to bring normal civilians safely from one place in the war-torn calamity landscape to another, that'll give Brennan ample heartbreak opportunities. Maybe they have a champion we've never heard of with them, maybe Purvan shows up, maybe we can be in Xhorhas, that place is scarred to shit, all sorts of remnants of the Calamity are there. Who knows, whatever it is, it just needs to be small scale and not in the history books so Matt can play and not worry about it fucking up all of his secret lore lol. No pivotal moments to the larger narrative, no "if we do this It'll end the war!" No insane level 20 combat, nothing like that (Ok maybe still some lvl 20 stuff if they want, though I do think it would be interesting to see some lower level characters struggle their way through the calamity landscape). Just a wonderful, character driven moment of people in a terrible situation doing their best, one of millions of stories lost to history. I think it would be great.

#critical role #cr calamity #cr downfall #brennan lee mulligan #matt mercer #liam o'brien #campaign 3 #bells hells #hopes for future projects

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mugloversonly · 3 days

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I Would Not Change It

For week 3 of @softsteddieseptember

AO3 Prompts: Choosing them | Anniversary

tags: temporary character death, all tags on AO3

Eddie blinked against the bright light above him. That’s weird he thought. He could have sworn he was just saying good bye to Dustin, he even made him promise to tell Steve he loved him. But now he was in his childhood home with a mug of hot chocolate and a plate of sugar cookies in front of him. His mother sat acr… wait. His mother?! That explained it then.

“Mama? What are you doing here?” He asked even as he stood to give her a hug. She held tight and cried into his chest.

“My baby boy. I never thought I’d see you again.” She pulled back and stroked his cheek, “but mijo you are so young.” Eddie shook his head and placed his hand over hers.

“So are you, mama.” She smiled softly. She was only a few years older than Eddie was now when she died. “What’s going on?” The room around them changed to their kitchen. A bowl of veggies sat in front of him and his mother was cutting a tomato.

“We are in an in between place. You have a choice to make, but you have a few minutes before you have to make it.” She said humming as she tossed the tomato into the bowl.

“A choice?” Eddie asked.

“Sí.” She said. “You can choose me or the Truth.” As she spoke the word “truth” the room shook.

“The truth?” Eddie began stirring the ingredients.

“They can show you everything. Give you all the knowledge of your soul, it will let you understand yourself and your place in the world much better. But it means you may not see me again for a long while. But stay with me, and you will never get the chance again.” She chopped some onions. He sat in silence for a moment before a big gray door with odd symbols on it appeared to his right. He stared at it as it slowly creaked open.

“What should I do?” Eddie asked. His mother sighed.

“No se mijo. Your life has been a storm. Anger, hatred, fear, I don’t want you to go back to that. But, it would be selfish of me to force you to stay.” She said.

“If I go through, I won’t see you for a while. But if I stay, I’ll never see this door again?” He asked softly. His mother nodded once. He hesitantly took a step toward the door but stopped. “You promise I’ll see you later?” He asked.

“Of course, mi amor.” She promised. Eddie turned to give her a tight hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“I love you mama.” He said and as she returned the sentiment, he disappeared through the gray door.

~~~

He stepped out into a endless white room. The door shut behind him, but he paid it no mind, for in front of him sat an odd silhouette of a person. “Who are you?” Eddie asked. They smiled hugely at him from their faceless head.

“I have many names. God, the universe, but I am the Truth.” They said. Eddie raised his brows skeptically. The Truth kept the slightly creepy smile. “You came here to learn yours yes?” Eddie nodded. The Truth stood, strode past Eddie, and opened the door behind him.

When Eddie turned to look through the door, he was expecting to see his mother’s kitchen but instead there was a long tunnel, with no end in sight. His trepidation was obvious but the Truth didn’t wait, they simply stepped through, yanking Eddie with them. Suddenly he was pulled down the tunnel by worm like tentacles with hands grasping his shirt. Flashes of his life sped past at an alarming pace. He saw himself as a kid getting hit by his dad, his mother hugging him, her funeral, him moving in with Wayne. Then the memories slowed down. He saw himself meeting Chrissy during the talent show and becoming best friends. He saw Steve knocking over a whole movie display when Eddie first flirted with him. Their first kiss while they waited for the kids. He watched himself and Steve hide behind a storage bin as Robin and Chrissy shared their first kiss.

Then he started seeing the last week. He saw Chrissy freeze in his trailer after putting in her Blondie tape. He felt as helpless now as he did then when she hit the ceiling, thanking his lucky stars he didn’t turn off the radio, when she fell. He managed to catch her and as she sobbed in his arms, they ran to their partners for comfort. He saw them being held and told all about the upside down, he saw Steve diving into the water, he saw himself dive after, and attack the bats. He saw them making a plan, using Chrissy as bait. He saw himself standing alone against a horde of bats, a shitty spear and shield his only protection.

He came to a stop in front of the image of himself lying broken on the ground. “Why are you showing me this? I already know this stuff!” Eddie shouted at the Truth. “I gave up spending time with my mama for this?!” The Truth laughed mischievously.

“Of course, not. We needed to see this lifetime before unlocking the rest.”

“The rest?” Eddie’s question barely passed his lips before long forgotten memories circled him.

The first one that stopped in front of him showed a young child that looked exactly like he did at that age. He was six years old, if that. A little blonde girl held his hand as they huddled in a supply closet, when the door opened and two other kids came in. A little boy with chestnut hair and a little girl, holding tightly to his arm. Eddie watched as the four kids sat in a tight circle, arms wrapped around each other in a group hug. Eddie gasped as he saw the water levels rise. The kids never let go of each other even as they were barely staying afloat, the two little boys hugged each other tightly as the water swallowed them.

Another memory flew into place in front of him. He was a farm hand, working side by side with a girl with dirty blonde hair, she looked a lot like Robin. As the two tilled the field they were approached by a two sisters. “The farm owner’s children.” The Truth answered when Eddie asked about them. He watch as the girl with chestnut hair blushed at something Farm Eddie said as he leaned against his shovel. He was proud of his past self until he saw him lose his balance, thankfully the girl caught him. As they stared into each other’s eyes, the memory faded.

“What happened to them?” He asked. The Truth’s smile disappeared.

“The town found out about them and blamed him for corrupting her, said he turned her into a witch. He was hung for his crimes and in her grief, she ended her life to be with him again.” Eddie gasped for multiple reasons.

“So, it is Steve.” He whispered. “Are we soulmates or something?” Eddie asked as a new memory appeared.

“Not exactly.” The Truth answered. In this new memory, past Steve was being hailed a hero with Eddie standing to the side happily. They were decked out in Greek armor, Steve’s shining gold in the sunlight as bright as his own bronze. Two girls (who he assumed were Robin and Chrissy) wore long draping dresses, their hands were ties behind them to a beam similar to the mast of a ship. Eddie nudged Steve and convinced him to help free the girls.

He watched as Steve challenged the general for “possession” of the girls. As was his right as the best warrior, he was granted them as his prize. Eddie watched as a tent was erected next to their own for the two even as it was implied each girl would be paired with one of the boys. The two men climbed into their tent, into a bedroll, and held each other close.

The next thing the Truth showed him was the two arguing, past Eddie on his knees pleading while Steve shook his head. Eddie jumped to his feet and began putting on Steve’s armor, as Steve watched on but eventually assisted. They shared a kiss before Eddie put on the helmet and stepped out of the tent. Steve watched him enter into battle disguised, saw him fall. As his body was brought back, Steve mourned deeply and angrily, before he rushed head first into battle without any armor. He slew foe after foe before he finally was killed, he begged his fellow soldiers to add his ashes to Eddie’s as he faded away.

“I don’t understand.” Current Eddie said to them.

“One more” they said.

The new memory was that of a young Eddie watching a little girl being born. “The girl you know as Chrissy is your twin soul.” They began. “Twin souls are cut from the same fabric of creation so to speak. Soul mates do exist, but they are cut from complementary fabrics.”

“So, I have a twin soul and a soulmate?” Eddie asked. The Truth’s smile returned. “No, you and the boy you call Steve are an anomaly. His twin soul is the girl Robin.” Eddie figured that out a long time ago. “You two seem to find each other in every life time. No matter how far apart I put you,” the Truth pointed at a memory of Eddie in England and Steve in Brazil. “Even if we put you on opposite sides of a war,” the Truth trailed off. Multiple visions flashed in front of his eyes.

In front of Eddie, he saw himself, but as a woman, and Steve fighting for opposing forces, swords clanging together. Eddie was a pirate and Steve a British solider. Eddie ripped off her face covering which caused Steve to stumble. Their eyes met, their swords lowered, their resolve faltered. A sword ran through Eddie’s back, in between her breasts. Steve held her as she died in his arms, her bloodied hand holding his face. “You two always, find each other, even if for only a moment.” A vision of two women introducing themselves right before the destruction of Pompeii appeared.

“So, it’s not fate? It’s coincidence?” Eddie felt oddly saddened by that.

“Not coincidence. Stubbornness.” The Truth grinned. “It’s like your two souls are saying a big ‘fuck you’ to fate.”

Eddie chuckled. “But why show me all this?” A new door appeared. It wasn’t like the gray door, it was closer to the gate to the upside down.

“You have another choice.” The Truth pointed to a second door, this one looked like his mother’s kitchen door.

“If I go through the door on the right, I get back to my mama, but if I go through the door on the left, I live this current lifetime?” Eddie asked.

“Almost. The right door will lead you back to your mother. Through the left door, there is still the chance you will die. Your injuries were substantial, I can guarantee a minute, but beyond that will be determined by you. Even if you do survive, it will be a difficult life.” The Truth admitted.

“I don’t fear hurricanes.” Eddie said with a smirk, trying to sound cool and unafraid, but by the look on the Truth’s eyeless face, he didn’t succeed.

“If you say so.”

“Will I still have these memories?” He asked.

The Truth titled their head like a dog. “I work on the principle of equivalent exchange. You exchanged time with your mother for these memories and the chance to go back. If you want to keep the memories, you must give me something else.” The devilish smile was back.

“Can I see another memory? One of us when we grow old?” Eddie asked. He wanted memories of everything before he left. But the Truth’s smile turned into a frown.

“You two have never grown old together.” They said sadly.

“So, we’ve only ever lived half a life or less together? You’re going to take something whole from me, but give me halves?” he scoffed in Truth’s face. “Hardly seems equal.” The maniacal thing laughed viciously. He gulped, maybe he shouldn’t argue with creation.

“Are you choosing to leave with your memories?” They asked. Eddie nodded and strode up to the door.

“What will you take?” He asked, his hand on the knob.

“An eye,” They said, placing their hand over where their eye would go. “For an eye,” when they pulled it away, Eddie saw his eye looking back at him as he was sucked back into the land of the living.

~~~

Eddie gasped in air as if he was underwater for too long, his remaining eye burst open to see the starless, gray sky that is the upside down. They took half his sight, for memories of half lives. Clever. He heard nothing but the thunder until pounding feet raced back to him. “Eddie?” came the call of an angel, right before he came into view.

“Hey, darling.” He rasped, lifting his hand to the other man’s face.

“I thought you were dead!” He whispered as fresh tears replaced the old ones. “What the hell happened to your eye?”

“I was dead, but they asked me if I wanted to go back and I said yes. Even just for a minute to see you again.” He smiled, but coughed roughly.

“Help!” Steve called and the girls ran over. “Robin I know you’re squeamish, find something to carry him on.” He asked of his best friend who was looking a little green. Nancy knelt down and got to work bandaging Eddie up as best as she could. “Who asked you?”

“You really won’t believe me this time.” Eddie whispered. Steve held Eddie’s hand as they shifted him onto a piece of wood Robin managed to find, Nancy’s bandages held up pretty well all things considered, but he started to bleed through them. Dustin who was waiting on the other side, heard the commotion and called an ambulance that arrived just as they were shifting Eddie through the gate. He clenched his jaw to hold in his screams as the shift in gravity nearly ripped the blood from his wounds.

“Hold on okay?” Steve pleaded.

“On it!” Eddie laughed but it turned into a cough.

As he was loaded into the back of the ambulance, Steve begged to ride with him but the EMTs needed the space. “I’ll be there, waiting.” Steve promised him. As he started losing consciousness, he smiled, if this was the minute the Truth promised him, it was worth it.

~~~

The next time Eddie woke up it was surrounded by beeping machines, the stink of antiseptic in his nose, and a bright light shinning in his face. “Shut that the fuck off!” He shouted as he threw his arm up in front of his eyes. A chuckle to his right let him know he wasn’t alone as the room plunged into darkness. He removed his arm to find Wayne on his right and Steve walking back from the light switch.

“Hey, kid. Glad to see you awake” Wayne said as he gave Eddie’s hand a light squeeze.

“Hey, Pop.” He squeezed back before shifting his eyes to Steve. After a beat Wayne stood.

“I’m going for a smoke, keep him out of trouble.” He said.

“I will” Steve replied.

“I was talking to Eddie.” Wayne chuckled and pulled the door shut behind him as the boys laughed lightly.

“I don’t scare easily, Eddie. But I was terrified.” Steve admitted.

“I’m sorry I scared you Stevie.” Eddie whispered.

“What happened Eds? One minute, I was sure you were gone, the next you’re breathing again and missing an eye! Did Vecna…” Steve trailed off.

“No! Stevie, it was amazing. It was scary but not like Vecna…more like” Eddie paused. “Wiggly” he did his best to wiggle his fingers like the hands of the Truth.

“Okay? So what did it say?” Steve asked. Eddie regaled Steve with the words the Truth gave him.

He shared how he willingly traded his eye to keep the memories so he could tell Steve. “We aren’t fated, we’re not soulmates. You and Robin, me and Chrissy, we’re twin souls. But you and I? We defy fate, Heaven can’t hold love like ours so they keep trying to break the cycle. But they can’t.

Steve held his face, kissed hims softly, and whispered, “I’ll find you in every life Eddie Munson.”

~~~

The next few weeks were spent in grueling recovery. Not only did he have to learn how to walk again, living life with only one eye was difficult. He ran into things constantly, so he was covered in bruises, but on the bright side he did get a glass eye. He always thought Heterochromia was cool, so when the opportunity presented itself, he chose gray as his iris(he initially wanted red but was vetoed). Thankfully, it was possible for him to still drive, but he would basically have to relearn from scratch…after extensive occupational therapy.

“I can drive you around in the meantime, Eds.” Steve offered.

“Even to band practice?” He knew Steve hated practice, but he had an idea to take the band in a new direction.

“If I must,” Steve sighed teasingly. But the grin Eddie sent his way made him falter. “You already have one scheduled don’t you?” A wicked grin spread across Eddie’s face.

~~~

It was the day Eddie finally left the hospital. Steve paced the hallway of his house as he waited for Wayne, the bedroom was all ready for Eddie since the Munsons would be staying with Steve until they could find something else; which might be sooner than any of them wanted.

He worried Eddie would regret coming back, with everything that they’ve been through past lives was low on the scale of improbable. But even so, his fear of abandonment was ingrained in him long ago, like a cancerous cell it spread throughout his mind invading every one of his thoughts. He hoped he didn’t make it worse when he told Eddie.

Before he could fester for too long, Wayne’s truck pulled up and Steve rushed out to help bring Eddie inside.

It was later that night, after Wayne left for work, that Steve brought it up. “My parents called.” Eddie, who was tuning his guitar, froze.

“Oh?” His eyes met Steve’s.

“I don’t know how, but they know about us. They want me to break up with you.” Steve whispered, “then they’re going to make me date one of their business friend’s daughter.” Eddie’s hand shook.

“Are you doing that?” Eddie asked, fear clear in his voice. “Breaking up with me?” Steve stood and took his hand.

“You think I’d give up? That their bullshit can shake my faith in you? In us? Never.” Steve promised. Eddie laughed joyfully.

“So, how long do we have until you’re disowned?” He asked after giving Steve a brief kiss.

“A month?”

“Plenty of time” Eddie whispered against his lips. “Want to fuck in every room?” Steve through his head back and laughed, Eddie’s signature cackle joined in.

~~~ 5 Years Later ~~~

Eddie stepped up to the mic, Corroded Coffin standing (or sitting in Gareth’s case) strong behind him. “Hello Indy! We’re Corroded Coffin, thank you for having us!” He said confidently. This was their first time headlining a festival but they were ready.

“Five years ago today, I had a near death experience. It changed me in ways I can’t explain and may not ever know. This next song, which is not our usual style at all, was written about that time, and is dedicated to my darling.” Eddie stepped back and began strumming. “Thanks for letting me defer from the norm.” As Eddie’s rich timber voice rang through the speakers, Steve teared up as he listened, touched he chose him and was chosen in return.

If someone asked me at the end

I'll tell them put me back in it Darling, I would do it again

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #corroded coffin #past lives #reincarnation #inspired by a Hozier song #shamelessly #francesca #full metal alchemist brotherhood references #tiny adventure time reference #softsteddieseptember

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