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alle-ni · 1 year ago

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My thoughts about goodomensverse (I'm clinically insane) (my personal opinion) (long post)

Book Crowley:

- absolute disaster

- lonely boy

- grumpiest

- he's so in love with Aziraphale but didn't even realised yet

- a bit dumb sometimes ngl

- very tired

- he's trying so hard save earth and everything he knows but everytime he tries to explain why it's always AZIRAPHALE

- sometimes he's like... your old gay uncle, the old gay uncle of the family except it's a 6000 years old gender fluid demon

- HISS LIKE A SNAKE GANG

- got called dear once and them died (figuratively)

Radio Crowley:

- flirty

- "Humm have you ever seen me in a dress~~??"

- he's like flirting with Aziraphale 24/7

- 0 patience this man is a BOMB

- if Aziraphale ever EVER got slightly flirty with him back he will EXPLODE

- smartest of them all, he's very intelligent

- HISS LIKE A SSSSSNAKE GANG

- he's so in love with Aziraphale and it makes him SO FRUSTRATED

- his Aziraphale is the hardest one to reach, maybe this is why he's so deliberately obvious and direct with him (he's resilient, he will never give up)

- he's like a tsudere teenager collegial except he's a 6000 years old demon with serious issues

- not called dear yet poor soul </3

TV Crowley:

- SILLY

- he's the dumbest of them all, sorry 😭

- red hair

- he's so in love with Aziraphale and everyone notice it's SO OBVIOUS

- he's the most affected by The Bookshop Burning ™ event

- the only one who got to kiss the angel, good for him ig, or sorry, idk

- anxiety bomb he literally (literally) EXPLODE

- strongest soldier bc his Aziraphale is IMPOSSIBLE

- got dumped 2 times more than the others someone pls help him

- the most brave tho

- doesn't hiss a lot :/ free him from this madness let him hiss

- he's like a puppy with giant yellow eyes except it's a 6000 years old snake demon that lies all the time

- protective as hell this man wouldn't let anyone near Aziraphale if possible

- got called dear but at what cost??????????????

Book Aziraphale:

- Anxious all the time, religious trauma except the god is your father and he left you and never talk to you again and the guard angels are your siblings and they want you do be dead

- He's so soft he wants so bad to comfort Crowley but he's really hard to reach

- his Crowley is the most difficult of all of them, he needs to circle him a lot to get in touch

- this man got called names so often I don't think he even cares anymore

- he's very nerdy

- he's the calmest of them all

- really chill

- everyone is so mean to him for no reason

- he has 1 braincell tbh and it's really bad bc his Crowley is not that brilliant too they're both stupid sometimes

- he really REALLY wants to be with Crowley and Crowley only, he sounds almost obligated to be with heaven

- he is really kind to others even when they don't deserve

- he called Crowley dear once and then implode

Radio Aziraphale:

- full of himself

- bastard

- the most closed and oblivious of them all

- he tries to play cool with Crowley all the time (he's slowly getting insane and someday he will jump on this man)

- he's the most self sufficient one he barely holds on Crowley to anything and they're pretty independent

- Crowley can say shit like "Miss me angel~~??" and he would keep a bored face and not react at all (he screamed with the walls 4 hours later)

- he's also a tsudere collegial but he at least try to look cool and composed in public

- he's the Aziraphale that most believes in heaven, he's sure they are good and selfless and the right side

- he's not so brilliant tbh but he got a lot of spirit

- the most active Aziraphale ?? He really put his hand in the dirt and do the things alone

- the most angry and bad tempered of them all, bro scream "WE ARE CLOSED LOOK AT THE DAMN SIGN" when ppl barely touch the bookshop door

- he has a lot of patience with Crowley, not deserved tbh bc he thinks it's his personal job to get in Aziraphale's nerves

- overall he is polite

- he's really proud of their "arrangement" there not only one chance he let go without saying that

- he likes to provoke Crowley sometimes too but not as much as the other way around

- if he ever call Crowley dear he will explode

TV Aziraphale:

- bitchiest

- this man need to be sedated what the fuck Aziraphale

- most nuts of then all he's CRAZY

- he's the most up to do shit with Crowley they're insane together

- he doesn't let Crowley rest he is flirting and being cute and hitting on Crowley all the time

- he's so obviously in love with Crowley its embarrassing

- he's the fruitiest he's the entire salad

- the most... indulgent, if I can say, of them all

- more like an employer of heaven, different of book Aziraphale

- he's the only one with almost white hair

- he got kissed but at what cost

- he's the most intelligent of all of them how can he be this dumb

- he loves little things about earth and humans and life and he seems to be the Aziraphale that most love EARTH itself, like, the life, the humans, the food, the little pleasures we have, the little time of happiness we have between all the shit that is happening... he really loves humans <3

- he's conflicted about heaven, he seems to know that there's something WRONG with how heaven works but still doesn't understand what exactly it is

- "oh but saving me makes him soooo happyyyy~~~"

- overall kind and sweet, in a excited way

#good omens #good omens 2 #aziracrow #crowley #Aziraphale #radio omens #good omens radio #good omens book #thats my opinion #more like some thoughts i have been collecting since im hearing radio omens #not really accurate #does this count as character study????#lol I think not #maybe i have a preference for radio Aziraphale i wrote so much more about him and ended up erasing it all bc it made me look insane #shit its 2 am I'm so sleepy

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olive-may-write · 7 months ago

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Hope

Hi! So this is the first time that I've wrote somthing this length in a while so this will be a bit rusty.

This is slightly self indulgent as someone who has chronic pain, I just thought I'd write someone up with a reader who has it in mind.

Anyway reader is someone who experiences chronic pain, it's a small insight into the mind of someone who lives with it. I tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possoble, but other than that I hope you enjoy. Please feel free to give feedback of any kind, I just ask that you are kind <3.

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton X Reader

Possible triggers: Dissusion of mental health problems, mentions of chronic pain and how it can affect someone's life, Mention of feeling sick / vomiting.

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The drawing room is not exactly the best place for you to be right now, you had initially thought that a spot of reading would be a sufficient distraction from the blinding pain shooting through your temple. unfortunately, the book you are reading, or trying to at least is not providing any useful distraction, with the words on the page becoming more blurred the more you try to preserver.

Huffing you close the book, trying to focus on something else to distract you from the burden you carry. The pain.

You were never a sickly child, quite the opposite, you were always able to bounce back from any aliment that affected you, that was until sometime during your early adulthood. You cannot fully remember when it happened, just that one day it started, a sharp pain like a needle had been pushed through just under your kneecap and the stubborn thing would not go away.

At first, you had thought you had just over-exerted yourself during the social season with dancing, however, when that had ended, and you found yourself with more time to rest and recover you found that this pain remained. And it had gotten worse, it slowly moved upwards towards your other joints, sending sparks between all the different offending joints.

A knock at the door breaks your train of painful thought, you slowly move towards the door, confused as you had confessed to your maid that if anyone needed or wanted you for anything to very gently turn them in another direction to not exacerbate your pain anymore with meaningless conversations.

The door slowly creeks open, your maid’s face apologetically peeking around the frame.

“Apologies, I understand you did not want to be bothered; however, you have a visitor. One who is very adamant to see you, even after I explained that you had fallen ill today…” she relays, she seems almost skittish, unlike her usual self. This visitor has put up more of a battle than others, who would see you?

Sighing you looked towards her, trying not to cringe at a sudden stinging in your temples, you can’t very well be mad at her, after all, she can’t ultimately swat away everyone that wants to see you, though you had hoped that you would’ve had more time to try and calm down this headache before seeing anyone, alas, fortune is not in your favour today.

“Please do not apologise, Ester, you tried your best,” you say sympathetically. “I do not think I would be so lucky to hide myself away for the whole day without interruptions, please do send whoever is most eager to see me in, if you would not mind.” With the housekeeper slipping back out the door you try to calm yourself, ‘breath, just breath’ you think, trying to calm yourself down, trying to calm the headache, as well as your body.

You are not given enough time, as you hear the door opening again, this time more swiftly than before, footsteps moving quickly and a huffing breath. You then realise a slight error in your wording to your maid early, while you had instructed her to tell people that you had fallen ill, you mostly assumed that she would only need to tell people already aware of your ailment, and with that understanding they would know that you were somewhat alright and not gravely ill and not someone else. Someone who is not aware of your condition, someone who is now staring at you with anxious eyes trying to determine what it is that is wrong with you.

With your body still positioned towards the door you fully take in your visitor, Mr Benedict Bridgerton. You watch as he steps into the room, the door slowly closing over, trapped.

“I was told you were ill” he starts, stepping closer towards the chair you reside in, eyes still darting over you trying to determine the cause of your ‘illness.’

“I give my apologies for being so ardent in wanting to see you, I had initially come here under different pretences, however, the way your maid described your illness I was stricken with worry.” He speaks too quickly, staring at you with a slightly overwhelming concern.

“What ails you so?” he finishes almost crouching in front of you. The pause in the room is too stifling, this question that you hoped you would never have to answer while alone. In the past, you were always quite fortunate when the question had come up, with your father or mother there to quickly move the conversation along. Never bringing the truth to light.

“A misstep walking down some stairs! The floors had just been washed and they were simply too enthralled within their novel to notice” was one such story that had to be shelved after multiple uses.

“Oh, you know they were just so concentrated with their needlework that they strained their hands; nothing to concern yourself about” another one, a slightly more believable story, and one that could be told repeatedly. However this time you were alone, there was no one to save you, no one to swiftly tell a half-truth. No, you were on your own, and with a mind-numbing headache in addition.

“Ah, yes, erm please do excuse Ester, she does tend to exaggerate a little bit with her storytelling, I have but a simple headache.” You are not exactly lying, you do have a headache, you are simply omitting that the ache is also everywhere else within you.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Benedict replies, visibly relaxing, almost bending in half with the sigh he lets out.

“I thought you to be gravely ill with how your maid detailed your condition” he continues, “That you could hardly move, and you were racked with pain” he recounts, what you can only assume to be Esther's attempt at persuasion. And while true, you had hoped she would have chosen something along the lines of having a simple cold.

“Yes, well, as you can see, I am in perfect health, you have nothing to worry about Mr Bridgerton, though your concern is duly appreciated. I do hope your time has not been wasted by travelling over here,” you respond, very much hoping that you can put this conversation to bed. You can feel the pain in your temples starting to come down towards your neck, you need to move, having been sitting in one position for too long but with Mr Bridgeton here you could not just up and move. You also had forgotten your cane this morning in your room, not thinking you would need it very much today, and you did not particularly want to be witnessed limping up and out of the room in front of a man who had no idea of your condition.

Your only plausible solution was to grin and bear it, or rather, politely smile and nod along to whatever this man was about to ask you.

“Nonsense!” he exclaims loudly in a jovial manner, making the pain shoot through you once more.

“My time is never wasted when it comes to you” he speaks softly, as if he realised that by shouting, he would be causing you pain.

“If you are in good health I was wondering if I might ask something of you?” Ah the question you have been waiting for, it could not have come quicker.

“Yes, you may” Your response could be seen as quite rushed if you were in a normal situation, however with the pressure in your temples building and the pain slowly becoming more intense, you found yourself not caring how your actions could be perceived as by others of the ton.

There is a moment of silence where neither of you say anything, staring at him expectingly, you choose to prompt him by nodding your head towards him, hoping he catches onto your hint.

“Oh Right!” he starts with a jump. “Well I came here today with a confession of sorts, I have witnessed you, wait! Ah!” he suddenly stops almost aware of how slightly strange he must sound.

“Oh goodness, well- I, god” You take some pity on him as he seems to stumble over his words, ablet not enough pity to warrant sitting patiently in an increasingly uncomfortable chair.

“Mr Bridgton, I do not mean to rush you but would you please simply ask this question” huffing slightly.

“I know this is not how I am supposed to go about this, but I cannot ignore my feelings for you any longer! Please would you do the honour of letting me court you?”

There is a pause after his confession, stunned, shocked you are not sure how to respond. You almost think it is some cruel jest that he has been set up to follow through, but as you look at him, his expression and how he holds himself you realise that he is being as truthful. You feel as if someone has thrown a bucket of cold water over you, what does this mean? This cannot be real. This man of high stature wants to court you. While not lowly in rank, you certainly are not what you would expect a Bridgerton to go for and certainly not someone as seemingly broken as yourself.

Sitting there for a few more moments you realise that he is still waiting for your response.

“I, I cannot” you start “I am very sorry, but I cannot accept this offer.” You state, dropping your focus to the floor.

“I. what?” Benedict almost laughs, stunned.

“Why can you not? Are you intended to another?”

“No, I am very much not.”

“Are you interested in someone else?” You scoff at the question.

“No, not that it matters either way” The pain starting to build up even more now that you are having to argue your case.

“I have refused your offer, Mr Bridgton, I do fear that Ester had some truth in her words and I feel a headache coming on. I think it best that you leave for the day” You aren’t lying per se, you have had a headache for the best part of the day.

“But why not? I do apologise, but I am simply confused. You are not intended to another, and you are not interested in anyone else, so why refuse my offer.” He states.

“At least agree to court me, and then you can make your decision afterwards, at least let me have a chance to show you how I care for you.”

You are starting to get frustrated, and the pain in your head has started to become unbearable, like someone smashing pots and pans together, you feel a ringing in your ears, and you almost want to throw up.

“I am not well!” you explode, your breathing is ragged as your chest moves quickly. The pain in your temples is more present than ever, cringing you move to push your forefinger and thumb to either side of your nose bridge and start to pinch, hoping that brute force would almost will the pain to subside.

‘Pathetic’ you think to yourself, ‘I can’t even argue correctly, must everything I do be muddled with pain?’ You try and calm your breathing, focusing on the feeling of your fingers on your face, the clothes you are wearing, your breathing, anything to try and calm the pain down before it loses control.

There is a strange tension between the both of you, a quiet blanket that has been placed over the room as you do not know what to say.

“I am not well sir… I have not been for quite some time” you start again, still pressing your finger and thumb into the sockets below your eyebrows.

“Ester was right. I am riddled with pain, every day. I cannot dress without the pain, eat without it, speak, walk, laugh; live without it, I am tormented by it…” You begin to feel a sharp pain behind your eyes as tears start to fall onto your cheeks. Realising that by unravelling this thread that you would not be able to stop, you cannot tangle it back up again and simply throw it into your sewing box never to be spoken about again.

“I cannot be who you want me to be, I cannot offer you anything. It hurts to live, and I cannot burden you with that, you would be throwing away your freedom if I were to agree to your request. Do you want that? To be saddled with an intended that cannot do the simplest of tasks without the burden of pain?” You seem to burst out into a frenzy of words.

Without giving him a chance to argue back you move to stand, using a hand to brace yourself on the side of the chair you are occupying, you push down to give your body the momentum to move, your elbow shaking as it strains under the surplus of weight it is not normally used to. You curse yourself for not bringing your cane with you.

You pause while trying to catch your breath, frustrated that you simply cannot run out of the room and hide after such a shocking outburst, left to just stand there trying to muster up the strength and energy to try and move towards the door. With your head tilted down you were fortunate enough that you could not see his face, which was one of pain and shock.

Starting again you move towards the door, gripping the backs of chairs and the edges of side tables, with your back turned you don’t see Benedict moving as well, like a kicked puppy wanting to be comforted he follows behind you, he does keep his distance, not wanting to upset you further than you already are.

As you place your hand on the door, dropping it down so you are grabbing the handle, you feel a presence behind you. From the corner of your vision, you see a hand place itself on the door. You slowly turn around to face him, you thank some part of him that he is not crowding you up against the door, that he has given you some space.

“Please let me go, let me go. You can be free, you can move on, let me be.” you pleaded, looking up at him, your eyes flitting over his face looking for a sign, any sign that would indicate that he headed your prayer. You slowly focus on his eyes, looking within them, your breath hitches as all you see is a kindness so gut-wrenching it makes you feel physically sick.

There is no malice, no pity, or any inclination that he will follow your word. All you see within his gaze is kindness, one of love and hope. You start to feel overwhelmed, having such a kind affectionate gaze homed in on you. You think back to all the times you caught his gaze; at balls, gatherings, when he would come to speak to you, when he came to visit today to ask to court you. You think about how there was no pity within his stare, no sympathy, no looks of “such a shame, one so young yet so ill,” none of that.

You start to think about how you have brushed him off, how you have ignored him, at times even running away from him, too wrapped up in your melancholy to even look, actually look at how he was gazing at you, too scared to even admit that someone might even look at you within out an ounce of pity.

You start to think about how you could allow this, the love and admiration of another person, how this could happen. Could this happen? Could you willingly put your anxieties aside and let someone in, could they be your rock, could they hold you when the pain becomes overwhelming, suffocating you, pulling you down into despair?

Could you let him? As this question appears within your mind you feel a spark, like flint and rock smashing together, start within you. It is almost unnerving, unnatural. You have not felt this for an extraordinarily long time, almost losing belief that you could ever feel it again.

Hope. Hope that you could be loved and cherished, that you could have someone there for your bad days, as well as your good days where you could go for a walk or a carriage ride, where you could go to socials and visit family.

This line of thought left you almost breathless, as you still stood within the drawing room of your home. Slightly pressed up against the door, with one of your hands behind your back on the handle as you were trying to escape…again.

As this chaos was happening within your head, Benedict slowly brought his hand to your cheek, hesitating as if unsure if his action would cause you more pain than comfort.

Pushing the feeling of guilt down, you take a leap of faith by slowly moving your head towards him, tilting it so your cheek rests within his palm. You flinch slightly, Benedict moving his band away from you, nervous that he might have caused you more anguish. Quickly you stop him, bringing your other hand to cage his, gently placing his hand back onto your face, cupping your cheek and jaw slightly through his hand.

“It…it did not hurt that much, I was just surprised is all” you whispered “It has been a very long time since anyone has held my face this way” You can feel your reserve beginning to crack, you pushed forward, that small spark of hope within you starting to burn brighter.

“It is quite lovely actually, I don’t have to use as much energy to hold my head up when it is being held for me” you ramble, trying to ease the tension and hopefully his nerves.

“I see” he replies slowly, looking over you to make sure that his actions are not upsetting you in any way. Slowing analysing your features, sketching your appearance in his mind, unsure if he might get an opportunity to be this close to you again.

Bringing his focus to your eyes he is startled at what he finds, hope. A small whisp of it, and while surrounded by what he can assume is anxieties and doubt, he is so certain that it is there.

“If you would let me” he continues “it would be an honour to hold your head for you if only for a moment, to provide but a small reprieve.” Realising that you are not stopping him from speaking, he continues.

“You are so extraordinarily strong, a remarkable person. Willing to take on so much and push through it all, despite the load you carry” he feels your head rest slightly more in his hand, seeing your eyes fluttering before you shut them for a moment. He is worried slightly that he might have messed up, saying something that pushed you down into the darkness rather than bringing you up into the light. However, as you open your eyes again, slowly raising your focus from his chest to his face, then to meet his gaze once more, he disregards his previous concern. He can see that spark burning ever so slightly brighter.

You gently pressed his hand between your own and your face, turning the latter into his palm so that your lips were ever so gently touching below his thumb. If he would be so bold he could move the digit with a feather-like touch across your cheek and wipe away any tear marks from earlier.

“But you do not have to carry this load alone, I am not sacrificing my freedom wanting to be with you” parroting one of your earlier statements with earnestness.

“I am not sacrificing anything, I come forward willingly, I come to you after hearing about you and your life. I come to you as a willing partner if you would have me. Allow me to carry some of your load, let me hold your head and hands for you. Allow me the honour of holding you during your dark moments as well as your light.”

“I want to be there for you, with you, I am not here out of pity, I am here out of admiration and love. I fear that if I loved you any less, I would be able to talk about it more, my heart is but a reflection of you.” He felt like he was rambling, struggling to find the words to convey his true feelings, how he was frazzled by you, in a way he had not been before.

There was a pause and he started to doubt himself, his words, and his abilities before he saw a subtle movement from the outskirts of his vision.

As you looked into his eyes you could feel your grip on the door handle slipping, becoming less tense, less firm. Overcome with emotions from Benedict’s confession your hand goes limp, falling from the handle completely.

As you stare into his eye you slowly bring now limp hand up towards his face, almost parallel to his still cupping onto your own. You move slowly, akin to a dazed animal who is wary of any sudden movements; as you reach, you settle your arm on his chest resting so that your palm now cups his jawbone.

Benedict sees the movement, your hand dropping and moving up, towards him, he feels like he might faint, being able to touch you is one thing, but you, touching him is something he did not consider. He shuts his eyes, almost squeezing them closed not wanting to frighten you with how shocked he must look.

When you finally rest your hand against his chest, he felt like his heart must have stopped beating, he froze, willing himself to take a breath, to steel himself before opening his eyes.

For when he did, he was in awe, the spark that was once so dim, nearly stamped out was burning and it was burning bright.

“Do you mean it?” you ask, voice shaking slightly.

“With my whole heart, with the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins. I will be by your side till you are through with me, till I drive you mad, till we are grey and even then, I will still hold your head for you so you can rest for a while.” Benedict tries to convey every ounce of his emotions that he feels so you can be sure that you are fully aware of what he is experiencing.

“I think I would like that” your reply is rushed. Not wanting to waste a moment, not letting it run away or hide. You finally made your choice, you would let hope win, you would lose the battle but win the war and your victory prize did not seem all that bad.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfic

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eustasskidagenda · 1 year ago

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anon asked: Hi sweetie, My brain just can't get over the idea of Kid being pegged, I mean, everything is so 'grabable" on his body. So could you write an OS or drabble about this? With a female reader. Maybe Kid would have that kink after a certain time in their relationship, according to your NSFW alphabet. With maybe some overstimulation, hair pulling and spanking as additional kinks? And if it's possible, could you write this with Kid being pegged for the first time? I think it's can be interesting! Last, please, can you write him as extra tough/bratty but his attitude breaks bc he can't handle how good it feels. I hope my request was understandable, I don't know how to explain myself properly. Tysm for your time and anon please

Hi! Well, that was an interesting request! And you’re so damn right, Kid's body is so grabbable. It was quite fun to write, Kid is such a brat, I love him so much :D Sorry for the long wait (my back is still injured) and thank you for requesting, I hope I did the job correctly :D ☆

☆Eustass Kid getting pegged for the first time

CW : MDNI, smut, f!reader, pegging, overstimulation, hair pulling, spanking, praises (bc Kid lives for praises), established relationship, Kid has a filthy mouth, Kid is a big brat, kind of virginity loss kink I guess (?), fingering & oral sex (Kid receiving), dirty talk, rough sex

WC : around 4K. I know it's really long, but I wanted to develop a bit Kid's mindset. Hope you don't mind the length!`

Kid is everything, but not submissive. It's written on his face, and the moment you met him, you immediately knew that he would always be in control of absolutely everything. Including in the bedroom. And you never tried to change that, because Kid knows what he's doing. You crave the sensations of his hands gripping your waist and his huge body pressing against yours. However, in the back of your mind, a fantasy always refused to leave your spirit. Your giant, hot-headed boyfriend, moaning and begging while you fuck him. So, once, you tried to talk him about pegging, and you earned nothing, but a dark, mad scowl and a "no" yelled loudly."I'm not a wimp, y/n, no one will ever fuck me. I ain't no bottom bitch." That's what he said. And you know Kid is a stubborn mess, so you never tried to bring the subject up again.

It was five years ago.

Your mind is still filled with this fantasy. So, a few days ago, you tried again to convince your stubborn boyfriend. It was in the middle of a passionate make-out session, and you caught him off-guard. Initially, you believed that he would yell at you once more. However, he simply scowled and frowned. "You're so goddamn stubborn, I thought you would forget about this stupid idea." And then, he shrugged. "You better take the bigger size, I'm not a fucking pussy."

You still don't realize that he actually said 'yes'. In his language, with a lot of cursing and arrogance, but he did accept. It took him five years to gain sufficient trust in you. What a challenge. That's what you think as you relax on the huge bed and read a book that Kid stole for you. You're waiting for him, actually. Kid is probably locked in his workshop, working on some random weapon or new arm improvement.

Suddenly, the door hits the wall. "You're not sleeping yet?" He asks, closing the door behind him. He's still wearing his goggles and his lips are painted with your favorite red lipstick. And on his skin, some stains of oil. "Gonna take a shower, I'll be right back soon." You laugh softly. "Fine, but don't remove your makeup yet." He mutters 'I don't take orders from anyone' before slamming the door once more.

When he comes back with make-up still on his face, you can't help but smile. He listened to you. Locking the door with a kick, Kid drops his heavy coat on the ground, cracks his neck, and crawls on the bed. He immediately wraps his hands around your waist. "Come here. I want to fuck my pretty girlfriend." He sits you on his lap and holds your hips firmly. As he smears his lipstick on your neck, you shudder and put your face against his neck. Kid slides his hand and firmly gropes your ass. "Mine," he growls, squeezing your bottom. "I want to see that pretty ass, undressed and get on all fours,"

You raise an amused eyebrow. "No, I won't." He scowls, irritated by your teasing expression. You roam your hands along Kid's broad chest. "You're the one getting on all fours this time." He scoffs. A low chuckle rumbles up from his chest as he gazes at you. "You're being feisty tonight?" He squeezes your ass tighter. "No. I didn't forget what you said. I chose the larger size. So, will you let me fuck you?"

Totally flushed, Kid scoffs once more. "Goddam, y/n" You can almost see the gears of his brain working quickly. "Why are you so obsessed with this thing?" He groans, still holding your cheeks and squeezing them like if it were a stress ball. "Because you're hot. And you know where your prostate is, right, Eustass?" Kid scowls at you. "I'm not stupid, y/n." You gently touch the corner of his lips with a kiss. "So let me pleasure you."

You take off his goggles and his red hair falls free on his forehead. He's as beautiful and fierce as ever, gazing at you with his amber eyes. He forces you to sit on his lap while he thinks. And his laps make quite a beautiful throne to sit on. Your heart is racing and you're hoping Kid won't change his mind. You need to see that large, massive body, shivering under your touch. There's something so exciting about the idea of fucking such a big, tough, and rude man as Kid. "Y/n, I swear on everything I have: if you ever try to tell to anyone what I'm about to do… I'll fucking kill you. And I'm not even kidding."

Damn, you know he's not kidding.

Kid cares way too much about his reputation. He's so touchy and sensitive whenever someone tries to deny his status or powers. So, abandoning his dominant position is not easy for his stubborn mind. He must really cares about you. Your dear captain only knows the hard way. His strong spirit was the only thing he had as a poor child, when he used to fight for almost everything. That's why he toughens up so much. Right now, he seems much more human. There's a hint of anxiety in his eyes. Maybe he loves you, but people have betrayed him so many times, he can't help but be a bit distrustful. "Eustass, I won't tell anyone, even Killer. It's between you and me, I swear. " Kid sighs deeply. " Goddam woman… fine."

Relieved, you kiss his lips softly. As a punk, Kid always craved for non-conformism. You noticed really soon that he was always curious to try things considered 'weird' by society. But you never thought he would let you peg him. Your heart is brimming with excitement, pride, and impatience. You squirm to escape the strong grasp of your boyfriend and reach for the nightstand .Kid watches closely as you grab the lube and the strap-on. You didn't lie; you chose the larger size. Kid glances at the toy for a long moment, but remains quiet.

"Alright, come here and lie back." Immediately, Kid raises an eyebrow. "You want me to take orders from you? Ain’t no fucking way" Ah yes. Kid. Constantly bratty and hot-headed. "Come on, Eustass." You gently try to push him on his back, but he doesn't move, struggling with his inner thoughts. "Let me pleasure you." As you press your palms harder against his chest, he snarls and eventually lies back, completely tensed. You reach for his belt and he pushes your hand. "I can do that myself," he grunts, taking off his shirt, unbuckling his belts and unbuttoning his pants.

Damn, what a sight to watch at Eustass Kid's naked body. Muscular shoulders, broad and toned chest, abs as hard as the stone, big and grabbable thighs, and that perfect muscular, round booty. "Your name is so accurate, Eust-ass", you laugh as his face turns as red as his hair. "Shut up and do your fucking job," he barks aggressively. He's trying to hide his flustered state. How cute.

Your hand reaches for his already hard cock and you firmly wrap your hands around the thick girth. Kid bucks his hips, eager for more friction. "You're so hard. Are you actually turn on by the situation?" His cock twitches in your palms. "You know what? You should shut the fuck up. Why won't you suck my cock?" He grins and grabs your hair. Damn, even now, he can't help but give your orders. Kid smirks as you comply, content with himself. "That's it, take it all." His cock is throbbing with needs as he pushes deeper down your throat. You can already taste his pre-cum in your mouth.

You keep sucking him while reaching for the lube, spreading it on your fingers, and guiding your fingers against his tight hole. Kid tenses automatically. "Just do it, I'm not a pussy," he mutters. With a wet sound, you remove his cock from your mouth. "Eustass, just to be sure: have you already been fucked in the ass before?"

Now, even his neck is red. "Hell no. Do I fucking look like a guy who likes being fucked all the fucking days?" He snarls, his pride stinging. His thoughts are filled with lust as he feels your hands on him, making his heart race. "Now what?" You don't answer and continue to run your hands along his muscular thighs, grabbing them to widen his legs. "You're so pretty for me." Kid lets out a low, growling sigh, his cock twitching with the need. "Don't call me pretty. And fuck me, I'm dying of impatience"

"Fine, fine. You're needy." You gently tease him, spreading his ass cheeks to take a look at this hole clenching around nothing. Eustass tenses under your touch. "Don't fucking look at my ass like that" he growls, squirming nervously. "Why not?" You whisper, kissing his inner thighs and squeezing his muscular flesh. With your lips, you trace all of his scars and curves. "Because I'm not some fucking object for you to gawk at!" Kid roars, shoving your hands away from his ass. "Now, are you going to fuck me or what?"

You can't help but chuckle. He's such a hot-headed mess. Even more stubborn, yelling and aggressive than usual. Your poor boyfriend is really flustered and turned-on by this situation. The unknown is something he finds unpleasant because he can't control it. "Don't worry, I'll fuck you soon. Let me prepare and stretch you first." You're rubbing your fingers against his entrance, as you say. "Prepare me?" He sneers, his voice thick with disbelief and irritation. "I'm not some delicate flower" He continues to protest, but his heart is racing at the thought of being filled with the massive strap you choose. "Stop being so bratty." You sigh, apply more lube to your fingers, and spread it on Kid's entrance. " Just breathe and relax for me." You gently push two lubricate fingers inside him. His warmth and tightness immediately surround you. With a shiver, Kid groans and grabs the bedsheets. His head, neck, and shoulders are all flushed.

Kid groans as you keep teasing the tip of his cock with your free hand. The double-stimulations is too much for his body to handle. You gently push your fingers deeper, savoring your boyfriend's low grunts and how he clenches around you. So needy already. "You're doing okay, babe?" You ask teasingly, curling your fingers and rubbing his prostate. Kid grabs the bedsheets tightly. Right now, he looks so vulnerable; he doesn't have his prosthetic arm. Just his bare body covered with scars and his big thighs trembling crazily. "Don't call me 'babe'" he grunts, bucking his hips against your hands, eager for more of your touch. It's almost hilarious how hard he tries to hide the moans of pleasure that threaten to escape his lips. "Look like you're enjoying yourself" you tease, stimulating his prostate. "Fuck!" Kid groans, his body arching off the bed. "Just get it over with, I can't get much fore of your goddamn teasing!" he growls, his voice laced with need.

Eustass 'Captain' Kid is finally begin to break down.

That is so fascinating to watch such a big and scary man, so needy and almost begging for more. Begging to actually be fucked. You continue to finger him and he yells, his eyes rolling back in his head as the sensation shot straight to his cock. The pre-cum is leaking onto your fingers and his stomach as his member throbs in your hand. Kid's body trembles, betraying his arousal despite his best efforts to maintain control and the tough boy-attitude. "Just fuck me," he growls impatiently.

"Okay. Then, get on your hands and knees." You demand, taking your fingers off. "No."

"Why, no?"

He frowns. Of course. He won't obey. No one can commands the great Eustass "Captain" Kid. You sigh, half-amused and half-annoyed by his stubbornness. Despite his dislike for orders, what if you simply guide him with your hands? Perhaps he will comply. Holding his hips with firm yet gentle hands, you attempt to roll him onto his stomach. But you can't move his big, heavy body if he's not willing to obey. Kid glances at you for a long time, and when you finally break the eye contact, he huffs and rolls on his stomach. Your heart is racing at the sight of his muscular back. Some scars are running down his spine. Both the small of his back and his ass are incredibly juicy. You can feel yourself becoming increasingly wet as you imagine the moment you will finally fuck him and drive him crazy.

Still with your hands, you try to move him on all fours. Kid growls and arches his back. But he can't really stay on all fours with his missing arm, so he ends up with his head buried in the pillow and his ass perfectly raised in your direction. The position he's in is so helpless and vulnerable that it makes your throat feel a bit dry. He must really trust you to be so exposed. "You can breath at least?" He turns his head. "Of course I can, just fuck me."

He glances across his shoulders as you put on your strap-on and spread some lube on the fake cock. Kid asked for it to be both large and long, and it is. His spirit of competition is quite amusing, but you hope he'll be fine. You give a playful spank to Kid's amazing, muscular ass and enjoy the nice jiggling. It's only fair to give him a light spanking because it's his favorite activity when you're on all fours.

By pressing on the small of his back, you force him to bend more, enough to spread his ass cheeks without your hands. Then, you gently rub the cockhead of the toy against his tight entrance. Kid eyes roll back in his head as he feels the cold rubber head pressing against his hole. "Hurry up and fuck me, damn it! He grumbles with a voice full of desire and impatience. His cock throbbing between his legs shows that he's ready. "Just relax and let me in," your orders before starting to push the massive toy inside him. "Fuck", Kid hisses out between clenched teeth, his body shuddering from the intrusion. He tries to manage his breathing, and he feels the thick head of the dildo stretching his entrance further. "Shit…" he cries out, as the cockhead finally passes his tight ring of muscles. His body instinctively fights back. You soothe him with one hand while gripping his hips firmly with the other. "Just breathe, Eustass. You're doing so good. Just a little more and it will all be inside. " Kid grabs the bedsheets with his hand, his whole body shaking and covered in a slight coat of sweat. As Kid finally relaxes, you manage to push the big toy deeper into him. "You're taking me so well, Eustass." You purr, watching the thick girth of the strap sink completely inside him, stretching his ass widely. "That shit is so fucking big," he groans out, his body shaking with the sensation of being filled so deeply. His ass walls are tightly clamped around the toy. "That's what you wanted" you laugh playfully, squeezing his ass. You can’t believe you’re finally filling him up to the hilt.

"Shit! I know. Just fuck me, I can handle it." Even as it overwhelms his senses, he cannot deny the pleasure that surges through him. Seeing him with a completely flustered face would be wonderful, but you know that he's probably more comfortable that way, with you taking him from behind. If you are unable to see his expressions, he may be more willing to let it go and indulge in the pleasure.

Your entire body is aching. It's too much for you. Kid is so perfect, so pretty, on all fours for you. His muscular body offers to your hands and thrusts. You had no idea that he would allow you to realize one of your most significant fantasies. Now, you have to take good care of him and prove to him how good it can be to be fucked. Maybe he will accept to do it again if he's convincing enough.

You gently start to thrust, sliding in and out with ease thanks to all the lube. The amount of lube is making some wet, obscene sounds with each thrust. Kid grunts, almost moans and tries to hide it behind a curse word as you move your hips. Your hands move from his waist to his ass, and you grab it firmly. You spank the firm flesh playfully. "So perfect" you whisper while thrusting. Kid groans lowly as you continue to plunge the toy into his ass. "You look so beautiful when I’m inside you." Kid sighs. "Can you stop babbling and actually starts to fuck me for real?" He tries to keep his moans under control, his teeth tightening tightly. 'Fuck," he mutters, his voice thick with need and desire. " Damn Eustass, you're taking me so well. You're so beautiful, I-"

" Harder " Kid grunts, silencing you. " I can take it, fuck me harder." You give another spanking to his ass, which slowly turns red. Kid bites the bedsheets, smearing his lipstick everywhere on the pillow and on the mattress. As you speed up your thrusts, Kid bites the bedsheets more firmly to muffle his moans. The sensations are too intense, the pleasure is too overwhelming for his poor mind. He can't think clearly, and is slowly starting to lose his tough-guy attitude. It's tempting to tease him about his pretty, husky moans. He's such a whimpering mess. But you shut up. It's obvious to you that he would feel mocked and humiliated. And you want him to trust you. It's beautiful to watch him indulge in a new world of sensations. With each hard thrust, the inner ring of the strap grinds against your clit, and you moan as well, digging your nails into Kid's ass. "You should see how your hole is swallowing all of me." The mind totally dizzy, your boyfriend doesn't react and just bucks his hips, eager for more friction, more roughness. "Yeah yeah i get it; you love my ass. Just fuck me harder," he begs again impatiently. His body is trembling as his mind still tries to fight against the pleasure washing over him. His cock twitch violently, releasing pre-cum as it throbs in response to your thrusts. "Fuck," he repeats, moaning. Burying his head in the pillow, he bites it. You know, his lipstick is probably all over the white bedsheets. You spank his ass playfully, speeding up your thrusts. "Damn, you were right Eustass, you're taking me so well. You like how wide it stretches you?"

The slapping sounds of the skin fill the room as Kid turns into a whimpering, almost whiny mess. It's difficult for him to handle how good you're stretching him and how nice the toy is rubbing his prostate. You continue to thrust, chasing your own highs. The rubber ring is stimulating your clit just nice, not to mention the amazing view of your boyfriend on all fours and at your mercy. The fake balls of the toy slaps against Kid’s balls. With one hand, you still hold his hips firmly. With the other, you pull on his hair, fucking him deeper. His face is completely red, his eyes are almost wet, and his lipstick is smeared on his chin and cheek. Amazed by this sight, your pussy ache in need. You already know how beautiful Kid looks when he can't handle how tight your cunt is. But that. It's beyond all expectations. The slight pain from his hair being pulled and his ass being spanked only add to his arousal, his cock throbbing with need. All he can mutter is a long, long strand of'shit' and 'fuck'.

Kid buries his head back in the pillow after you release his head. His ass is red from both your spanking and the roughness of your hips when slamming against his. Amazed by the way his body is completely swallowing the toy, you too moan. You reach for his chest, squeezing his large tiddies. Your breast bounces crazily with each hard thrust and Kid's body just jolts of pleasure. You know he won't take much more. So you reach for his cock and as soon as you touch it, Kid cum violently, arching his back, curling his toes and making a mess on the bedsheets. The pleasure just washes over him. But you don't stop, still chasing your own highs. "Fuck!" Kid groans again, his body shuddering from the intense release. His massive frame falls stomach-first on the bed. The friction between his sensitive cock and the mattress is causing him to squirm and jerk. "Damn, Y/N!" He grips the bedsheets more tightly and pants heavily. The way you're overstimulating his sensitive walls and prostate is too much to handle.

"Almost there", you whisper, and finally, you feel the pleasure running through your veins. Your loud boyfriend can't help but cum once more, his eyes rolling back in his head, short-circuited by his second orgasm. You continue to give him some sloppy thrusts, making him squirm and cry out. "You're amazing," you whisper before finally pulling out the toy carefully. With a loud 'plop', you completely pull out the toy, leaving Kid with a gaping hole.

'You're okay?' You whisper, stroking his back gently and playing with his hair. "Hmph. That wasn't that bad" he admits, his chest heaving up and down. Your fierce boyfriend struggles to glance at you and keeps his head buried in the pillow. Despite the intense pleasure he'd just had, his pride is swollen. You gently kiss his lower back, leaving a trail of kissing along his spine. "You were amazing… so beautiful and perfect for me…" Kid grunts slowly. At the moment, he only needs praises. He cannot deny how good it was. And his mind is tortured. What does it mean? Is he still the same for you? Does he look less manly now? Or cruel, maybe? Ashamed, Kid slowly manages to relax as you keep praising him. "You're alright?" You ask, kissing his neck. "Yeah." He grumbles, still trying to catch his breath, and finally rolls onto his back. You take off the strap-on and leave the bedroom, just for a moment. When you came back with a wet cloth, Kid didn't move at all. Without any words, you clean him. "Are you hurt anywhere?" He shakes his head. "No. I fucking lost my arm, I can handle having my ass pounded, damn." He groans. "Alright, alright. Just move your ass then, let me change the bedsheets."

Kid struggles to comply, barely standing up on his shaking legs. After you're finished, he returns to his bed. "Are you joining me or what?" With a chuckle, you comply, pressing your naked body against his. Kid wraps his hand tightly around your waist. "I love you, Eustass" you whisper close to his ear. The confession brings his heart racing. "Of course you love me."

He rolls on his side in silence. You know exactly what he wants, so you wrap your arms around his large body. "My big boy loves to be the little spoon," you laugh and he grunts a 'shut up'.

His hand reaches for yours and intertwined your fingers.

"Why are you smiling?" Kid asks as he feels you smile against his back. "Nothing."

You're just so proud of your stubborn, hot-headed boyfriend. And proud of how your relationship just evolved. Kid is always hard to understand and you never know if he loves you, but those kind of moments… it eases all your doubts. You're overjoyed to have the chance to see the vulnerable, human Kid. He can sleep comfortably. You won't tell anyone about it; it was too precious, you want to keep it to yourself.

"Alright, just smile then, he grumbles", still holding your hand.

#one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #one piece requests #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid headcanons #eustass kid x y/n #eustass kid x you #eustass kid imagine #eustass kid #one piece smut #eustass kid smut #eustass captain kidd #eustass kidd x reader #kidd x reader #one piece writing #one piece fanfiction

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1-800-crscnt · 1 month ago

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-jobs I think some clones would have in a post-war “clones are legally seen as people” universe-

Cody: plant + animal farmer. sees it as both a new experience/challenge (land, terrestrial plants and animals) but also slightly similar to what he was used to as a marshal commander. likes the hard work & care required for this lifestyle but cares more about the payoff of it all. will underestimate mint at some point.

Rex: fisherman of some kind. i don’t really have a reason for this, it just seems very likely to me. probably enjoys the peace and solitude it can bring after years of being in the situations he’s been in, but likes the learning aspect and self-sufficient parts of knowing how to fish. could also like the thrill of wrestling large fish that have bodycounts and going to competitions about it, maybe all of these options at once. possibly worries a lot about everyone else and is always sending them photos of him fishing so they respond with their own thing.

Fox: nice try. stays unemployed in a comfortable cabin in some isolated town and loves it. if he needs money, he’ll cash in on favors or do small favors for his brothers.

Wolffe: also tempted to stay unemployed, but gets restless + depressed, becomes a woodworker. doesn’t care about it at first since it’s just a way to get money and stay busy, but develops a liking towards the methodical work and the feeling of creating something very meaningful and/or beautiful with his own hands. ends up liking to create furniture for his brothers getting settled down as a hobby, but creates gothic decorations to sell as his main thing. possibly gets less depressed.

Bly: security guard, would quit, then become a geologist. liked how similar being a security guard was to being a marshal commander at times, but overall hated being reminded of how a lot of people saw/see clones. found more peace in geology bc of how delicate/patient/focused he had to be (helps reinforce his belief that he’s not a violent machine capable of nothing else), also loves learning and sharing knowledge in general. doesn’t really like working with other geologists, tends to not communicate being angry since he’s used to shutting up to get a job done. but he’s dealing. sort of.

Doom: would probably also be unemployed but because he keeps quitting any job after about a month. just can’t find anything that calls to him or keeps him happy, but knows his end goal is to have a life involving lots of plants. doesn’t enjoy being unemployed because he tends to see it as a personal failing on his part, ends up very stressed. Wolffe tries to give advice on just jumping right into plant stuff and making money off it, but Doom is hesitant to make something he loves into a job he might end up hating and quitting again.

Bacara: part-time piercer, part-time bounty hunter. likes to call them both his “piercing jobs” to the discomfort of nearly everyone else. prefers bounty hunting since he thinks it’s more necessary + familiar, but would give it up first if he was forced to only choose one (more stable pay + might live longer). backup plan is to fake his death (unnecessary & regardless of situation) and become a librarian or historian with a fake accent. sort of a nerd anyway, so this isn’t the end of the world for him, and likes how he can get away with dissociating more than he used to.

Neyo: surprisingly, professional racer. refuses to explain how he got this idea, his motives, and where the next event will be, but likes it when his brothers somehow show up. loves the exhilaration, risk (huge adrenaline junkie) and how his outfit looks. also likes the bragging rights. backup plan is to fake his death (again, unnecessary & regardless of situation) and secretly live with Bacara, becoming a chef because he likes working with knives + feeding hungry people fulfills his desire to be useful in some way. has yet to tell Bacara any of this, actually finds not saying anything about it really funny.

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angrykittybarbarian · 5 days ago

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Things that bother me about Dragon Age: The Veilguard part 3 (final thoughts)

I have finally finished the playthrough. I endured because I wanted to give this game a fair chance. I wanted to see it from start to finish in the hopes it would deliver something, anything capable of redeeming it. But it just didn't. Or more precisely, not in a way sufficient to make its flaws easy to overlook. These are my closing impressions on the game. I have already done two posts about this in which I documented my observations and comments as I progressed. I will link the posts here: Part 1, Part 2.

Let's finish this ride for now.

!Spoilers below the cut!

The music

I don't know what the direction of the music was meant to take. When it was announced Hans Zimmer would compose the OST I had high hopes. Hans Zimmer is a houshold name in Hollywood and skilled at what he does. I listened to a number of movie OSTs of his making and they were all excellent. So what happened here?

The music sounds generic most of the time without a clear theme or a unique piece that got me searching for it on youtube.

The main theme has sort of a recognizable composition but isn't anything outstanding. Emmrich's theme sounds like a halloween piece written for Wednesdsy Adams and the rest of the OST seems to mimic Trevor Morris' work for DA:I, namely the Lost Temple and In Hushed Whispers themes, but without the emotional impact the original pieces created.

It's as someone has already pointed out and I agree: Bioware has bought the name Hans Zimmer but not his quality. It sounds like he didn't even seriously create something but half heartedly whipped something out of his sleeve and called it a day.

The facial animations

The main problem with these is they often don't fit the emotions the VAs are communicating.

The VAs actually did a fantastic job. The scene that touched me the most was the one Rook confronts Solas in after they escape the regret prison in the fade. That was the first time Rook felt involved, raw and real.

But what broke the atmosphere in an otherwise flawless scene was how unmoving their facial expression was. There was the VA shouting their lung out and the animation couldn't even give half a fuck about it.

I don't even see an excuse for this lack of facial animation. It was possible to do since DA:O, hell, even since the first Mass Effect back in '07. Why is it not possible in the year of our Lord 2024, when technology is presumably better?

The handholding of the player

The plot is tightly paced. This is not necessarily a bad thing as I didn't really like the Open World approach of DA:I since it stretched the main plot too thinly and the maps created weren't filled with interesting side content but boring and pointless fetch quests.

But Veilguard went into the opposide extreme as it leaves only little room for the player when and how to do things. The quests are activated and must be completed in a specific order. They have also only one outcome without room to make different decisions.

Rook can never be truly ruthless. They can never disagree and butt heads with their companions.

And I hate how on the side of the screen the game exactly tells you what you have done and how it affects your companions' behaviour. It doesn't bake it into the interaction organically. Instead it has yet again, explained to me what I did and why it has this very specific effect without any of the characters discussing it. But the beauty of consequential decisions lies in the very unpredictability of its outcome. That's what creates the emotional impact. It doesn't work if I am being warned and explained to like a small child.

It's this lack of trust the game puts into the intelligence of its players that is so experience breaking, insulting even. It doesn't trust its players to figure stuff out themselves. It assumes we are too stupid to get any of the things it tries to tell us.

The ting is though, dear Bioware writers, if you think you have to overexplain your story because you think your audience won't get it then that's a telltale sign of the story being actually badly written.

Another area where this becomes appearant are the "puzzles". I used the quotation marks because there isn't really anything to solve. The solutions are obvious and at times your companions go out of their way to tell you.

The romances

Romances have always been a nice bonus on top of the otherweise amazing game content. They added some enjoyable extra fluff purely for enjoyment and some cases even deepened the main storyline.

In Veilguard they don't do that. In almost all of them the flirting is so meaningless that your cutscene with them just proceeds as if nothing happened.

There is no shift or change to their tone towards Rook. You don't build up the relationship with them. There is no last goodbye kiss before the last mission or passionate affirmations of love and trust. It just leaves you cold.

The only romance that seems to have that old depth is Emmrich's. The rest however, they don't add anything significant. There virtually is no difference to the game without the romances.

Companion relationships

Let's begin here with the simple fact that all deeper interactions Rook has with the companions are strictly scripted which ties back into the handholding part of this criticism. Rook cannot initiate a conversation and ask them some general questions about their histories and opinions on certain matters.

Rook only gets to interact with them when they happen to want something from them. Otherwise they cannot be bothered to acknowledge Rook with more than a one sided oneliner.

And then there are the relationships between the companions themselves. They either get along swimmingly or the game feels the need to stage some immature conflict between them without any deeper purpose.

Like Harding not understanding why Emmrich brings so many books on the road despite it literally not being any of her damn business bevause it doesn't personally affect her in any way.

Or Taash not understanding his profession as a Mournwatcher as they call him names so Rook has to point out Taash in turn likes dragons which is an interest he doesn't share only to culminate the discussion with a "We need to respect our differences" sort of statement.

These are not conflicts, these are squabbles of children and like children Roik talks to them which is brought ad absurdum with Emmrich because he is literally old enough to be Rook's father.

Why bother at all with writing conflict if it is only to be something as inconsequential as this?

Varric's death

This one is a .... choice.

I won't go into why the decision to let him die or not is good or bad because I feel like this is highly subjective.

However the impact of the reveal of this fact is only partly executed well.

Why?

Because it only hits hard when the player has known and cared about Varric at least since DA:I if not DA 2. The execution of this plotpoint thus relies too heavily on nostalgia instead of building the tension up within its own setting.

When thinking about Bioware also wanting to be newcomer friendly with this game I am left to wonder then why they didn't introduce Varric properly and didn't give the players time to build up the relationship? Why would a new player care about Varric? They don't know him.

Bioware cannot in good conscience claim they designed the game to be new player friendly while simultaniously heavily relying on knowledge from previous games, dlcs, comics, novels and other spin-off media. They cannot claim this and have anything but DATV do the heavy lifting when it comes to executing their plot.

The final mission

For my final point I also want to lose some positive feedback about this game.

The ending was actually well written.

In relation to Solas it comes full circle. You can actually feel what's at stake and the decisions Rook makes actually matter.

The final questline roughly follows a Mass Effect 2 approach where it is classified as nothing short of a suicide mission.

Companion quests essentially function as loyalty missions and Rook gets to assign various posts in battle. Just like in Mass Effect 2 assigning a companion a post completely outside of their expertise may get them killed.

The dialogue is actually written well at this point in the game. There isn't really much to complain about.

But even this part is not entirely without faults.

For one I don't like the non negotiable sacrifice that has either to be made by Harding or Davrin. Rook doesn't even get a chance to save any of them. But again these non negotiable companion deaths where you only make the choice who's it's going to be isn't anything new (i.e. Hawke and whatever Warden you happen to get, Kaidan/Ashley in ME 1). So maybe a bit if a bummer but nothing experience breaking.

A stronger point however is that Rook will always keep the Veil intact in the end.

I suppose this outcome already is part of the game title itself but was it necessary to take it so literally?

With everything the elves have lost and the discrimination they faced it should absolutely have been an option to agree with Solas and tear the Veil down.

But since we don't talk about racism and slavery I guess Rook doesn't reflect on these points either. So I guess keeping the Veil intact is in line with the game's general sanitization of the world.

So in conclusion?

The game is far from great, not gonna lie. It feels like the devs actually wanted a new IP but were too afraid of the risks that come with such an endeavor and thought gutting an existing franchise that already did the heavy lifting of building a fanbase and using it as a package would save their ideas from flopping. Surely no one will notice it is actually something else if we market it as Dragon Age, right?

But we are not that stupid. This behaviour is insulting to put it plain and simple and I am heartbroken, angry and said that this was done to Dragon Age. I wanted to love this game. I was optimistic before the release. Everything looked fine, nothing in particular to worry about.

But I cannot continue to defend this without breaking my basic brain function.

The most frustrating part is that with the ending the devs showed they can write a story and meaningful dialogues. It left me wondering why it couldn't be done like this for the rest of the game and living with the reality that I will never get what this game could have been.

All in all this is not a good Dragon Age game. It is a massive disappointment and does not live up to the promises made by the devs.

I am sorry for everyone who preordered.

I am sorry for everyone who paid the full release price.

Nominating it for Game of the Year is not justified no mattee how you look at it.

If you are genuinely enjoying the game, I hope you continue to do so and all power to you.

For the rest: let's stop excusing Bioware's disrespect towards the fans and enabling them by paying them too much money for it.

Don't buy at release. Don't buy spin off media. Wait for sales. These people only understand the problem when you give them a good run for their money.

#dragon age #dragon age: the veilguard #datv #datv critical #bioware critical #emmrich volkarin #taash #scout harding #solas #long post #this is the end of my critical long posts #i will post some thoughts and ideas on how this game could have been improved #this is my way of coping with the sheer betrayal this game release was to me #like it was my groom and left me the bride at the altar on our wedding da #after feeding me all these empty promises #i can never trust bioware again

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welcometothejianghu · 5 months ago

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Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 山河令/Word of Honor.

Word of Honor is a 2021 adaptation of a novel by priest that tells the story of two beautiful murderers, their three kids, and their collective attempts to ignore the fetchquest madness that has taken over the rest of the jianghu.

Look, you know what Word of Honor is. Doing a rec for this is like doing my rec for Nirvana in Fire -- I am not introducing you to a new concept. Even if you haven't watched it, you've probably osmosed enough through the rest of Tumblr to have an opinion on it. At this point, if you haven't seen Word of Honor, I'm assuming it's for one of two reasons: either you haven't gotten around to it yet, or you haven't been sufficiently moved by what you've seen fandom do with it.

So I'm going to give you five reasons to watch the show, and they're probably not going to be the reasons you've seen already. Not to say that the other reasons are bad, but you've heard them already, right? What I've got for you are five somewhat more unexpected reasons that may just convince the fence-sitters that this nut-flavored morass of toxic relationships is worth your time.

1. No matter how gay you think it is, it's gayer

Okay, sure, you've probably been given the impression that this show is real gay. But I don't know if you know how gay it is. This show is so gay that we still haven't seen many of the other BL-flavored shows filmed around the same time period or since, because Chinese censorship gay-panicked and locked them all away before they could air, because Word of Honor was just too gay.

Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing (L-R above) are in love. The story does not make sense if they're not. There is no story if they're not. Everything else in the show is set dressing to this incredible adventure story of two horrible people who fall for one another.

Oh yeah, did I mention that they're both bad guys? One's a fascist toddler-murderer and the other's a cannibal mob boss. These two deserve one another, in every possible sense of that phrase. In any other property, they'd be the villains -- and even here, they're still kind of the villains! It's just that the heroes are worse.

What's more, their two actors absolutely understood the assignment. They got the memo. They read the book. No one ever had to sit them down midway through shooting and explain their dynamic. They had it from the table read. When given creative freedom, they chose to double down and make the gay shit even gayer.

But the actors weren't the only ones who knew what they were doing! Everybody working on the production was pretty much in full-on Let's Make A BL mode. There are no gay accidents here. It's so gay that it's actually gayer than the version that aired. If you can do a little lip-reading (though beware of spoilers in those links), you can get at the original filmed version, which had a number of lines that were too homo and/or sexual for Chinese television.

No, they don't kiss. They don't have to. This is the TV version of the tweet about, what's gayer, gay sex or whatever these two have going on? The answer is, whatever these two have going on.

It's so gay that they're not the only gays. No, I'm not going to tell you who the other gays are, in part because spoilers. But trust me, they're there. Lesbians too! And a bisexual elderly polycule! And one pair of hets that we love love love, and most other heterosexuals are creepy and gross. And if that's not an accurate representation of how the world looks to queer people, I don't know what to tell you.

2. Go nuts!

You are not prepared for the product placement.

Word of Honor started off having a budget, so they went ahead and started spending that budget in the way you do when you're making a TV show. Unfortunately, circumstances changed, and their budget became much less, which meant they couldn't keep making that TV show unless they got more dollars. But where to get a sponsor for a fairly low-profile wuxia BL property?

Enter our hero: Wolong Nuts.

I have seen actors do bumper ads in costume for products from their various sponsors, and I have seen actors do bumper ads in character for the same. But the feeling of seeing a modern product diegetically hawked mid-scene by ancient fantasy characters is like none other.

Something like 40% of Word of Honor's total budget came from this nut sponsorship. And here the thing: It worked! It sold nuts! Hell, I’d buy them if they were sold anywhere near me; I like nuts in general, and nuts that support the queers in particular.

I'm including this as a selling point because, come on, it's funny as hell. But it's also a good place to warn you that Word of Honor has what we're politely going to call a spotty use of its funds. Some things, like everyone's outfits and the score, are lavish and beautiful. Other things, like some of the sets and a lot of the CG, are janky and sad. Crowd scenes are thirty humans and a bunch of Blender assets. I've never seen so many fake plastic trees together in one place before. There's a lot of visible hairnets. Like, a lot.

The show was originally planned as being 45 episodes long. It wound up being 36 + a tiny epilogue. That's a huge cut! I’ll say to its credit that you mostly can’t feel the seams; the production team did a heroic job killing their darlings (in many senses) while keeping the narrative coherent. If you know about the original vision, though, you can identify pretty quickly where the excised material should have been. Don’t be surprised when the last two episodes in particular smack you like a hit-and-run.

They blew a truly unwise amount of the budget on costumes in general, and Wen Kexing's costumes in particular, and thank goodness. (@canary3d-obsessed has done a noble job of cataloging everyone's wardrobes, and some of the details are just stunning.) See that red outfit he's wearing there, with the elaborate, delicate embroidery? That apparently took two people literal months to hand-sew. It's a terrible use of limited funds, and I am living for it. Even when Wen Kexing looks awful, he looks stunning -- especially when you put him side by side with Zhou Zishu, who is wearing the jianghu equivalent of slutty yoga pants and a thrift-store dollar-bin t-shirt that says IT'S WINE O'CLOCK SOMEWHERE.

So if, while you’re watching, you’re ever disappointed by the quality of the production in front of you, just console yourself by thinking: That’s nut money, baby.

3. The ghosts (and everyone else) doing the mosts

This is a show that somehow managed to accumulate a tremendous supporting cast of actual grown-ass adults, then had the wisdom to make them play a wide variety of balls-to-the-wall bonkers roles.

You can't throw a rock in a crowd scene without hitting a dozen actors with resumes as long as their arms, who have been acting since before you were born. Apparently they poached a couple veteran film and stage actors from other contemporaneous productions and had them come over to film bit parts on their days off. If you see a character played by an older actor who's getting more lines and face time than you think their character strictly deserves relative to their importance to the plot, and you're like, hm, I wonder if this older actor has a career that includes roles in several dozen other shows and/or stage productions, the answer is yes.

I've seen the tone of the show described as melodramatic, but I don't think that's quite it -- it's more operatic. People speak to the middle distance and play to the back row. Several actors have the body language and line delivery that makes it seem like they're always about three words away from breaking into song. Several of my favorites are downright camp. It's magnificent.

Statistically, everyone in this show is a bad guy. There are the respectable people who don't mean to be bad guys, but wind up being bad guys anyway because they support bullshit systems. There are the morally grey folk who are willing to become bad guys because they think they'll be the good guys when all is said and done. And there are the bad guys who know they're bad guys and are going to chew every piece of scenery in the vicinity about it, so watch out.

My favorite collection of scene-stealing weirdos is probably the clutch of freaks that make up the ghosts of Ghost Valley. They're not actual ghosts -- this is not a supernatural show. They are instead living people who call themselves ghosts because they've found themselves on the margins of society for one reason or another, and have created their own little society! With hookers! And blackjack! And also a little murder, as a treat!

These ghosts are so extra that they actually have a Top Ten List, where all the ones that have code names and specific costumes hang out. How do you get on the Top Ten List? By killing one or more of the people already on it, of course! I told you these guys are villains! They're not even the only villains! They're not even the only villain organization! It's wall-to-wall bad guys around here! And oh my goodness, the actors are clearly having a ball with it.

When the screenwriter came to adapt Faraway Wanderers (the novel) into Word of Honor, she realized that there weren't a whole lot of ladies in the book -- so she invented/adapted some for the show and made most of them sinister! (In fact, if you watch Legend of Fei -- and you should watch Legend of Fei -- you can see a lot of the inspiration for said ladies.) Some of the female characters in the show were men in the book, while others weren't even in the book at all. They all feel organic, though, and not like someone was trying to get Strong Female Character Points. It's the good representation you get when there's a lot of representation, so nobody has to be The Girl, and all the girls can just be people.

...Alas that another casualty of the budget cuts is that several of the lady characters did not get to live up to their full ass-kicking potential. But that potential is still there! The badassery may be implicit instead of explicit, but you don't doubt that many of these women would eat your heart at the slightest provocation, and you would thank them while they were doing it.

This show is perfect food if you're the kind of viewer liable to get sucked up into the worlds of villains, NPCs, bit parts, optional side characters, and other narratives going on outside the main storyline. Because there's a lot going on outside the main storyline. I mean, that's kind of the running joke of the whole novel, that there's this whole complicated political plot happening, and yet our dudes are over here studiously trying to not know what the hell is going on. Obviously that's harder to preserve in a show, but it's still a key feature of the narrative. Most of the Big Power Play What-Not is always happening a few towns over from where the main party is at any given moment. I know people who've watched the drama several times and still can't explain whatever's happening with all that. That's fine. You roll with it for the sake of everything else.

So! Do you like gazing upon delightful character actors and having imagination adventures about the unexplored workings of a bunch of tantalizingly mysterious and often very sexy weirdos? Great! This will keep you busy for a good long while.

4. The juciest pining in the jianghu

I said I wasn't going to tell you about all the gay shit going on here, and I'm not. What I do want to cover, however, is how much gay shit isn't going on here -- and by that I mean just how much of the show's gay longing is unrequited. If you like it when the boy yearns for the other boy, friend, you will feast well tonight.

You have likely already, through fandom, been alerted to the existence of the biggest gremlin in the land and an understandable number of people's favorite character, immortal grandpa Ye Baiyi. What may not have been conveyed, however, is just how tragically gay this bitch is. The ultra-condensed, scrubbed-for-spoilers version of his backstory is that he was in love with a guy who got injured because of him, so he decided to stay and live on a mountain with that guy and the guy's wife and coparent their son with them, all the while never once telling the guy how he felt.

This is not me with slash goggles on. This is canon. Well, okay, the "in love with" part is only confirmed in the book, but Huang Youming, Ye Baiyi's equally gremlin-like actor, has also clearly done the reading and understands how to break your heart with it. Ugh, it's so good.

Shidifuckers, rejoice! Zhou Zishu has Han Ying, his devoted little dumpling who would -- and does -- do anything for him. Back in Zhou Zishu's regrettable (but very fashionable) fascist days, he had a bunch of little underlings; one of them was Han Ying, who still works for the same evil empire. Problem is, Han Ying isn't evil. He was never loyal to his job; he was always just loyal to Zhou Zishu. It's cute the way Wen Kexing hisses like a cat upon meeting Han Ying and immediately identifying him as a rival for Zhou Zishu's affections. If you like OTPs that occasionally roll in a service-top third, please consider that adorable muffin boy up there.

And speaking of quitting your job, have you ever had the problem where you had to orchestrate your own death to get away from your toxic boss who won't stop sexually harassing you, and that motherfucker still expects you to show up for your shift next weekend? Meet Prince Jin, who has refused to accept Zhou Zishu's resignation letter with extreme prejudice.

Zhou Zishu isn't even the only ex he's mad he drove off! But that's just a namedrop in the show; see my bonus selling point for instructions on how to get into that whole gay-ass story. [insert obligatory "Prince Jin is not Helian Yi" disclaimer here]

...Nope, uh-uh, we're not going to get into what's going on with Scorpy. Suffice it to say, this is one of those cases where the show can't outright call a thing gay (though uhhhh it sure can imply a lot of it!), but it can set up an unspoken Gay Bad Idea as a direct, textual parallel with a canon Straight Bad Idea and be like, see? see? Anyway, daddy's boy there has deliciously terrible taste. This is the one that'll have you screaming crying throwing up etc.

And then there's this handsome jackass, who isn't doing the pining, but is the unfortunately heterosexual object of the often confused and misdirected longings of his friends. About the first thing you know about Rong Xuan is that he died before the series begins, so you only see him in a few flashbacks. The precious few times you do, though, you're treated to scenes of him holding court among his besties (many of whom are the spectacularly cast younger versions of major older male characters) while they all wrestle with varying degrees of homo longing for his cocky dreamboat self. You ever wanted to fuck a straight guy so bad you got both him and his wife killed about it? Because somebody in this drama sure has!

I sense you think I'm making this all up, that I'm just a fujoshi looking at the world through rainbow-colored glasses and telling you about her favorite slash pairings. Friend, I am not. Okay, I am being a little cheeky about the last one, but I swear that everything else I have listed in this selling point is about as textual as the show could make it, if not outright straight (ha ha) from the books.

(I have a whole separate theory about how priest herself is a real-life queer, based on how basically everyone in her works is either queer-coded or a token straight who's on thin ice, but that's a subject for a completely different Tumblr post no one's ever going to read, so save us both the time and imagine I already wrote it.)

I cannot stress to you enough how much this show knew what it was doing with the queer stuff. I love how amazingly toxic so much of it is, too, because one of the big themes of the show is that secrets will destroy you and everyone you love. If you have gay longing in a society that forces you to hide that gay longing, yeah, you're going to be extra-vulnerable to making some shitty decisions because of it! You're either going to suffocate yourself by keeping silent, or you're going to open yourself to intimate partner abuse you can't reveal to anyone else, or you're going to do some murders about it! Or some combination of the three! Either way, it's not good!

Also, tell your partner about your chronic health conditions, whether they be Can't Remember My Past, Would Eat A Guy If I Had The Opportunity, Stuck Some Nails In My Chest And Am Now Dying And Also Can't Get A Boner, or Whoops Took The Nails Out Of My Chest And Still Can't Get A Boner. Oh, and tell your partner if you're about to run off and go confront your dangerous ex. And absolutely tell your partner if you're about to fake your own death. Just ... learn to have conversations with the people who love you, okay? Avoid huge amounts of narrative suffering with this one weird trick!

5. Putting his whole Zhang Zhehussy into it

See, Gong Jun (playing Wen Kexing) is not what I'd call a great actor. This is more of a case where you take a guy, you cast him as a character whose motivation can be summed up as "I want to fuck that man in half," and then you cast opposite him a man that the guy in question clearly actually wants to fuck in half. And you let the magic work.

Zhang Zhehan (playing Zhou Zishu), however, legitimately knocks it entirely out of the park. Whenever the camera's on him, it's hard to take your eyes off him. He holds his own in a sea of veteran actors. He can do comedy and tragedy with equal panache. It's lucky he's such a beautiful crier, because Zhou Zishu cries so much. I have never seen someone more perfectly portray the mood of "in love and absolutely furious about it."

As the story goes, when he auditioned, he actually wanted to play Wen Kexing -- but the director told him, look, while you'd be great at that, I can find another Wen Kexing, but I'm never going to find another Zhou Zishu.

Zhou Zishu is bad man who has done terrible things and resigned himself to suffering to atone for his crimes, and he is so mad to find himself at the end of his life suddenly having a reason to keep living. Zhang Zhehan does a pitch-perfect tsundere right up to the point where he breaks. I'm not going to call it an understated performance, because nothing in this show is understated, but it is often times subtle and always complex, and fuck does he have a good crazy grin.

One of the first things you find out about Zhou Zishu is that he's got just a couple years left to live, over which time all his senses are going to deteriorate. In fact, they've already started going. And as the show goes on, you can watch Zhang Zhehan play it so you can tell when he's missed something he should otherwise have picked up on, reacting to noises and touches a split-second late. It's a testament to what a thoughtful job Zhang Zhehan's doing, keeping track of how much of Zhou Zishu has already slipped away.

There are, if you've read the book, legitimate complaints to be made about the adaptation's interpretation of Zhou Zishu's character, and I get that. But you can't say that Zhang Zhehan isn't pulling off exactly what he means to here. I say this too as someone who loves the novel: I think it works. Given the constraints of Chinese television in particular and cinematic adaptations in general, the show made the right choices when it came to figuring out what were the more filmable, actable options, and Zhang Zhehan plays every one of those choices within an inch of his life.

Also did I mention he's like the most beautiful man to ever exist? Holy crap. You're going to be so mad about what they do to his face for the first several episodes.

Don't worry, it washes off eventually.

caveat: Kind of a bummer!

You may have been warned that this one's got a sad ending. Well ... yes and no. On the "no" side of things, there's a "secret" mini-episode 37 that rolls back one of the major points of tragedy. (It's also clearly the first version that got shot, and then they shuffled around and redubbed some material to make the aired end of episode 36.)

But oh man, not all of them. Plenty of characters we love do not make it to the end. Like ... kind of a shockingly large number. Some are dispatched offscreen, some have tragic onscreen deaths, some are probably dead given the circumstances we last see them in, and a couple aren't dead yet but are almost certainly going to be soon.

(It's also kind of a meta-bummer! I mean, I don't recommend falling down the rabbit hole of what happened with Zhang Zhehan's career after the show aired, but tl;dr, it's not great.)

So yeah, it's not an outright pain simulator, and if you've got the mettle for Nirvana in Fire or Guardian, you should be okay here. But hoo boy, don't just blunder on in expecting a cheerful romp from start to finish, because ... yeah. I said it before: This is a story about a bunch of bad guys. Bad guys don't live long lives, nor do the good people who get tangled up in their shit. Just be prepared!

bonus selling point: black and white husbands

Okay, I will tell you who one of the other pairs of gays is. You'll see the two of them show up near the tail end of the show, and then you'll decide you want to know more about what their whole deal is, and then you'll read Qi Ye, which is a novel entirely about gay pining, and then it'll be all over for you.

Ready to wander this way?

There's a number of ways to watch this one! Viki, Netflix, YouTube, and Amazon Prime all have you covered -- but Viki's the only one that has the epilogue at the ready, so I'd go there if you can.

And I get it, if you're enough of an aging hipster that you don't want to play in the same sandbox everybody else is playing in. Believe me, I understand that impulse on a visceral level. After all, this is not a small fandom -- 7718 works on AO3 (at time of writing) isn't Untamed levels of content, but it's nothing to sneeze at. Maybe you want to leave this one for a little while longer, until the hubbub dies down a bit more and people's attention is redirected by a different gay and shiny thing. That's valid. I get it.

But if you do, I still encourage you to get around to it someday. For all its flaws -- and yeah, it's got flaws -- it's a good, solid story that makes you feel lots of feelings about some fascinating characters in some beautiful costumes, running around being real queer (and okay, occasionally straight) to beautiful music. This, to me, is television.

Fun fact! There is also a Japanese dub, if you feel like taking it at that speed, and the guy who voices Zhou Zishu is the voice of Kaworu from Evangelion, and the guy who voices Wen Kexing is the voice of Victor Nikiforov from Yuri on Ice. See what I mean???

I'm telling you, everybody ships it.

#word of honor #山河令 #shan he ling #wenzhou #rec post #i made this #tyk

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eemcintyre · 1 year ago

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Good Morning (Tom Cruise)

TW- none. Less than none.

Summary- Trying to make up for how busy he's been lately, Tom takes your daughter off your hands for the morning and obv cuteness ensues.

I stumbled randomly upon this picture on ye olde Pinterest and was immediately overtaken by my creative whims. I'm always a sucker for dad!Tom, and if you are too, then hopefully this will be an enjoyable read.

Children were the only thing that could have made Tom Cruise’s life more action-packed than it already was. He had discovered this firsthand a couple of years ago, when his and Y/N’s daughter, Indie, was born. Even though they had gotten past the initial stages of sleepless nights and teething by this point, Indie was now four and getting to the age where she needed a lot more stimulation and activity.

Over the last several days, Tom had practically lived in his home office. Due to an abundance of conference calls and other business negotiations, he was sorry to admit that he’d hardly been able to spend time with Y/N or his daughter. Though Y/N understood his obligations, he could tell that she was pretty exhausted. Even during breaks from her job, taking care of Indie on her own could be a lot to handle. Unsurprisingly, she had been born with her father’s daring, as well as his seemingly boundless energy, which was a deadly combination in a four-year-old.

But, this weekend, Tom had made certain that his schedule was clear. It was early Saturday morning, and he had decided to take Indie off of Y/N’s hands for a while so that she could sleep late. Being as quiet as possible, he jotted down a note explaining where they had gone. Placing the note on Y/N’s bedside table and pressing a soft kiss to her head, he took Indie out for a morning on the town. Strapping her into her car seat and cranking up some blues rock, they set off in the cherry-red Buick Roadmaster that he liked to break out on weekends.

Tom was pleased with how the morning had gone. First, they’d made a foray into one of the local parks where, between chasing her down when she tried to run off, Indie enjoyed being pushed on the swings and going down the tunnel slides. Then, after she had burned off a sufficient amount of energy, they ventured downtown for some breakfast items to take home. Gripping her little hand in his, Tom and Indie wandered the sun-drenched sidewalks past various brightly painted storefronts with lettering on the windows. Their main objective was to stop at a combination café and bakery where he and Y/N were known as regulars.

Nearing the counter, Tom had Indie in his arms so that she could see the full expanse of available pastries in the display case.

“Alright, darlin, what looks good?”

“Wan’ that one,” Indie replied, pointing to the iced donuts covered in rainbow sprinkles.

“And what do we say?” Tom glanced at her meaningfully.

“Please, can I have that one?”

“Yes ma’am, you may,” he grinned at Indie as the employee tending the counter approached.

“Mr. Cruise, hi there, what’ll it be this morning?”

“Hey, how are ya? The usual for my wife and I, and one of those rainbow donuts for the little lady,” he replied, glancing at Indie and bouncing her in his arms.

“You’ve got it. I’ll have the donut right out for you and those drinks will be done in a moment.”

“Thanks.”

A few minutes later, they exited the café and continued on their journey while Indie munched on her donut. Her attention was soon captured by a flower stand outside one of the buildings, and with icing smudged across her fingers and face, she pulled away from Tom and ran toward it.

“Hey, sweetheart, c’mere,” he sighed as he quickly caught up with her. Kneeling so that he was at her level, he attempted to clean some of the icing off of her face and hands. “You look like a wild woman.” He shook his head, and she giggled.

As Indie admired the bouquets, sticking her face in to smell them, Tom thought it would be a fun idea to get some for Y/N.

“Why don’t you pick out some flowers for Mom?” he suggested. “Which ones do you think she would like?”

Indie was quickly drawn to one of the bouquets with pink and purple flowers in it. It was a wildflower mix of cosmos, chamomile, hyacinth, lavender, and a single large sunflower.

“All right, good choice,” he nodded.

After they had paid, they made their way back to where his car was parked.

“Daddy, can I please hold them? Pleeeeeeaaaase,” Indie insisted, making grabby hands up at the flowers as he carried them.

“Okay, but you have to be careful, sweetheart,” he cautioned her, watching out of the corner of his eye as they walked to make sure that the bouquet didn’t end up scraped and scattered across the sidewalk. Thankfully, it made it to the car intact.

They returned home in the Roadmaster, this time with Indie’s choice of The Wiggles playing. The second she was freed from the confines of the car seat, she was eager to run inside and pounce on Y/N.

“Ok, now Mom might still be asleep…” Tom warned her, placing a hand on her shoulder as they entered the house.

“Hello?” Just then, Y/N’s drowsy voice sounded from the kitchen.

“Mama!” Indie exclaimed, catapulting herself in that direction. Y/N, who was wearing a baggy, vintage university sweatshirt and pajama shorts, kneeled down to scoop her into a hug. Tom grinned at them from the kitchen entryway, and Y/N greeted him, glancing at the bouquet and tray of cups he held, her face lighting up.

“Is that what I think it is?” she asked, standing up and reaching toward the cups, recognizing the café logo. “Mm, love you.” She bestowed a peck on Tom’s cheek. “What’s this?” she focused in on the flowers.

“Indie picked them out for you,” he gestured to their daughter, who was already becoming preoccupied by the cat and how she might go about picking him up.

“Thank you, honey,” Y/N said, playfully tousling Indie’s hair.

“She did a nice job. She already has your artistic sensibilities,” Tom chuckled. “Or at least your obsession with pink.”

“Then I’m doing something right,” Y/N laughed.

“She thinks my cars are ugly and told me I should get a ‘Barbie pink’ one.”

Y/N shook from laughter. “Y’know, this kid has a lot of good ideas.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

#tom cruise #one shot #creative writing #fanfic #tom cruise fic #tom cruise imagine #tom cruise x female reader #tom cruise x reader #x reader #fanfiction #tom cruise fanfic #tom cruise fluff #fluff #imagine #self insert #reader insert #just for fun

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batmanisagatewaydrug · 6 months ago

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hii i have a few questions if that's ok, sorry if they have been answered before! for context i'm a girl (17) with all the typical cis female biology (as far as i'm aware) and a virgin. (pls only answer if this asks on anon)

for 1. is it healthy for my vaginal smell to be like that of yeast? it smells almost bready and i've heard that your diet can strongly affect the way you smell there and does this mean there's foods i should cut down on/prioritise?

2. i tried out anal fingering recently and it feels good but also makes me feel nervous, because it feels not quite painful but stretchy and i've heard that there's higher risks of tears and haemorrhoids i think? also i don't have the "right" anatomy for it. so how do i know at which point to stop with it? i've been very cautious so far but is a certain level of not-quite-pain-but-that-stretchy-intense-feeling normal? also is it worth it to invest in lube? previously i've just used. other bodily liquids. i don't want my parents to know i'm doing this so is it worth it to pass it off as just wanting extra lubrication for other masturbation

3. this might be the one that's tmi. also possibly very gross i'm sorry </3 i've just never seen this brought up Anywhere at all and i'm too anxious to ask or look it up. when i put my fingers in, sometimes i can feel the uhh feces through the back vaginal wall (even when i don't feel the need to use the restroom) and as you can imagine it's super awkward and a huge turn off and frustrating when i'm horny, and that probably means i need to wait a little and use the restroom and masturbate later, right?

hi anon,

1.) a yeasty smell in your vagina is usually considered a sign of thrush, an overgrowth of yeast in the vagina. it can be treated with antifungal medication.

2.) everyone has the right anatomy for anal sex, as long as they have an anus, but it does require care since the tissue inside of the anal cavity tears easily and is prone to infection if damaged. using lube (lots of lube) will help a lot. silicone lube is often preferred for anal sex, but truly any lube is preferable to none and is certainly better than using other bodily fluids, very few of which are appropriate or abundant enough to act sufficiently as lubricant. so will wearing protective latex or nitrile gloves like these, which are available in bulk at most drug stores:

the gloves offer two-fold protection as they smooth the penetration and decrease the risk of tears in your anus and decrease the risk of you harboring any bacteria or fecal matter on your hands that you don't want to spread elsewhere.

3. the thing you're describing is far from unheard of, and is in fact sometimes recommended to help cure constipation!

the body is a lot of processes happening on top of each other simultaneously, and that includes your fecal matter and your vaginal wall. like you already said, if it's an issue that's distracting, just wait to masturbate until you've recently had a bowel movement; there isn't much else to be done for it.

#sex edventures 2024

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bird-inacage · 1 year ago

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Only Friends: Sand & Ray's Fears of 'Being a Burden'

This is a follow-up to the initial observations I made on both the characterisation of Sand and Ray. Two qualities that really stood out to me in episode 1 which made for a surprising point of commonality.

Sand's Righteousness

So many times this episode Sand comments on how Ray is being socially irresponsible. There's definitely the expectation that those who are wealthier live more frivolously and selfishly. They don't stop to think too much about how their actions have consequences and will impact those around them.

Whereas what was overwhelmingly clear in this episode is that Sand's strong sense of righteousness means he's driven to always 'do the right thing'. This means he's going to be in immediate conflict with those who do not do so, or don't care. The questionable behaviour of others may aggravate him, but when it truly matters, Sand jumps straight into action. He won't disregard someone in need.

This makes me wonder if he's predisposed to act because he feels it's objectively right to do so, regardless of someone's wishes. Funnily enough, we've probably all had instances where we chose to do something we knew was not 'right', for the sake of protecting someone's feelings. I anticipate there will be plenty of situations where his righteousness (which comes from a place of rationale) will come into conflict with his own personal feelings (which are often irrational).

This is where Ray will make a huge impact on his perspective. Because all people have their own battles and struggles, no matter what background they come from. It's not so black and white. Right and wrong. Just and unjust.

Sand also uses the term 'burden' a lot. This actually says a tonne about him. Often we can be critical of qualities in others we possess ourselves. It's because we have them, that we are hyper-sensitive to their presence in those around us. The way he chides Ray is because he himself doesn't want to feel burdensome on others. This would explain why he tries to be as self-sufficient as possible, working several jobs to make ends meet. He holds himself to the standard he expects of others. He wants to be financially independent. He wants to be able to take care of himself and not cause trouble.

If he's upholding a a high example of what it is to be a morally and socially conscious individual, he has value. His value goes beyond his financial hindrances. He can still contribute, he can still be useful.

Ray's Fear of Inadequacy

This line spoke volumes. It shows that Ray has deeply buried fears about being left behind or being surpassed. All his friends have something going for them. Mew is the clever, assertive one. Boston is the popular, astute one. Namcheum is the outgoing, social one. And he's the boisterous drunk. This is the role he often plays in the group, which no doubt really weighs on his own understanding of who he is.

It could explain why he has a crush on Mew, because Mew possesses a lot of qualities he wishes he had. Due to his bad temper and his shortcomings, he can easily come across as unapproachable and be misunderstood. He probably feels very lonely or often like the odd one out. Boston is always slinking off to hook up with a stranger. Namcheum is busy reading the room and including everyone. Mew used to be the one who was happy in the company of his own intellectual interests, but is now focused on Top. This leaves Ray as seemingly superfluous.

His friends often joke about exactly this but Ray probably internalises these comments more than they realise. On the two occasions he leaves the table, note how none of his friends follow him. No one tries to comfort him, because they've seen it all before. 'This is what Ray does.' 'Ray likes to throw a tantrum'. 'This is the alcohol speaking.'

When Ray is genuinely upset, his friends can't always tell the difference. His attitude is what isolates him, but he can't help reacting in the way he does, which isolates him further. It's no wonder Ray is so easily frustrated, because he doesn't know how else to express himself other than to get angry.

He may genuinely believe what everyone says about him. That he doesn't bring any value to the table. That he is (as Sand puts it) "a burden to society". He doesn't know what his place is.

Just like Mew's unconscious rejection of him, he may fear that one day his friends will move on without him. Like a small animal that's imprinted on others out of survival, he can't be left alone to fend for himself because he needs people to feel worth. To prove that he's not useless. To prove he's not expendable.

This has become a self-actualising prophecy he's begrudgingly accepted, mostly out of fear of losing his friends. He plays into the misnomer that's been assigned to him. "You know I'm only good at spending money", because he doesn't know what else he can offer. His friends tease him over the fact he often gushes about how much he loves them when drunk. But this is actually in a bid to keep people close. If you shower them with love, maybe they won't ever leave you.

And the sad part of this is that no one realises Ray feels this way because it's masked by his bad temper and tendency to drink.

Sand doesn't want to be a burden in a socially responsible sense. Ray doesn't want to be a burden on his friends, who may be the only people he has. We just need these two to realise they have a very similar complex here, hidden beneath their apparent differences.

#only friends #only friends the series #ofts #only friends meta #ray x sand #sand x ray #raysan #sanray #khaofirst #firstkhao #first kanaphan #khaotung thanawat #already anticipate i'll be analysing this show like a woman possessed

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lakesbian · 1 year ago

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it's the moment like 4 of you have been waiting for:

i finally rotated pact creature design in my brain enough to post about it. to all the people who sent me asks wanting to hear my thoughts explaining Why Pact Creatures Are So Good this ones for you.

the core of pact's monster design boils down to one very good fact about pact's worldbuilding: in the world of pact, the universe canonically loves a good story. magic literally runs on themes and ideas. subsequently, strong themes aren't the end result of pact's monster design so much as they are the most fundamental aspect of it--meaningful themes and narratives are such a textually important part of how pact monsters work that one bogeyman outright tries to start a conversation with blake by, upon noticing the birdhouse in his soul (tm), asking if birds are important to him.

what really seals the deal on this being fascinating is that pact monsters aren't invented wholesale--a lot of the book hinges on offering its own explanations for preexisting folklore or urban legend. pact takes a variety of common threads in the way cultural myths & monsters are presented, picks out the conceptions with compelling implications, and distills them into one design so thematically coherent and clarifying that it makes you go "ohhh, why aren't All ghosts/dragons/fae like this? this is Exactly What They're Supposed To Be."

like, we all know that ghosts are dead people, and oftentimes the appearance and/or behavior they're written as having is either implicitly or explicitly based on reenactments of their past life/how they died, and sometimes they're depicted as lucid but more often than not they're depicted more like broken or warped remnants of a person, and sometimes they make things colder/give off Bad Emotional Vibes/etc. those are generally true assertions about how ghosts are often culturally presented.

pact takes that and explicitly declares that ghosts are what happens when something so bad happens that an imprint of the resultant misery is left on the fabric of the universe. some ghosts appear horrifying because their appearance is warped and exaggerated beyond what's realistically possible to match how awful whatever happened to them felt. some ghosts are more lucid because their imprint is more recent, or has been strengthened and fed by human attention instead of left to decay. some ghosts are less lucid because they were forgotten. when ghosts make the atmosphere feel awful to be in, that's because the ghost isn't just the imprint of the person, it's an imprint of the awful thing itself. incredibly interesting! it feels so very much like the absolute heart of what ghost stories are about--about the grief and horror of being impacted by the ever-present echo of something terrible, about something so viscerally wretched happening that reality itself cannot forget it, about the emotionally powerful interactions between someone still-living and the memory of someone already long gone.

(pact also gives an aside that, in very rare scenarios, neutral or arguably even positive occasions which leave a sufficiently strong enough impression can also become ghosts. genuinely fascinating expansion.)

& the thing here is that pact does this for creatures like ghosts that are already richly thematic and iconic, but it Also does it for creatures with less obvious theming. how do dragons work? what's pact's underlying explanation for their position as immortal, powerful, regal, fire-breathing* fantasy monsters?

*&, depending on the media, sometimes ice-breathing or poisonous or whatever else

well, you see, dragons are recursive loops. "dragons are recursive loops" is perhaps one of the Top All Time sentences in the entire book, and the delightful thing is that, in addition to sounding excellent, it makes sense.

that's how they generate and spit out so much of whatever their element is. they're snarls. they're ouroboroses. they're something feeding into itself, self-sustaining for thousands of years, drowning anything which threatens it in torrents of whatever the self-feeding element is--fire, sometimes, but it could be poison, or ice, or whatever else, and that's why you've probably heard of ice dragons in addition to classic fire dragons. Dragons Are Recursive Loops. recursiveness is, after all, a form of immortality.

or, like, fae? we all know that faeries are incomprehensibly old/outright immortal Tricky Little Bitches who like to manipulate people while posing in an inhumanly/horrifically beautiful fashion and going "teehee." pact takes that to a fantastically surreal level of extreme artifice, one that's almost grotesque in its dreamlike nature--they have all lived for so very long that, to them, boredom is worse than death, and so they have complicated social games spanning centuries, and speak in the most practiced of misleading wordplay, and perfectly curate their forests so that even the smallest pebble is an intentionally-chosen setpiece for their play. they graduated from handjobs a couple dozens of millennia ago--now they're more into erotic-poetic descriptions of full-body degloving. you will not notice when a faerie steals and replaces your child, because you are very young and stupid compared to them, and playing-pretend at being your child is only the briefest of trifles in their unfathomably long lifespan.

the other good bit is that pact explicitly acknowledges that faeries run on what is colloquially deemed Bullshit--the universe likes a good story, and faeries have gotten very good at telling it a moving story. if a faerie tells a good enough story about having a sword that breaks the laws of physics, then that is what their sword will do. and so the way to combat faeries is not to out-bullshit them--because no one is out-bullshitting a being with thousands of years of bullshitting practice--but to say "no, that's fucking stupid and made up" until their implausibly long sword acts like a sword of that size actually should and shatters on the spot.

& all of these writing decisions feel so naturally truthful to what these creatures are Supposed to be--they're really not wholly new takes, they're a presentation of preexisting ideas in a way that gets why those ideas appeal to people and goes full-throttle on all the most thematically rich or otherwise narratively interesting parts. It's Good Writing. I Like It. you could spend an entire essay breaking down the presentation of literally any single one of pact's creatures, it's that compelling in its reflection and organization of Ideas About Creatures.

#pact time #pact textpost #pactblr #<- fuck you we are dragging that into usage #parahumans #<- fuck you random pactpost event you should read it #pact creature design

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reds-skull · 6 days ago

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Bringer of Demise

[PREV PART] [AO3]

Here we fucking go... This chapter might sound familiar, if you read the side stories. It is called "Sky Tomb (Reburied)"

“What?!” Soap growls, “who the fuck gave ye the right teh-!”

“Soap!” Price stops him before he can curse this cunt to high hell. The Captain turns to Novikov with a cold demand, “explain.”

Novikov nods, “I was requested to give my opinion on Lumity about two weeks ago by General Woods and Miss Laswell. As we don’t have protocols for this situation, I advised them to keep you, MacTavish and Ghost, separate as to not create new changes.”

“And why, exactly, would a change need to be prevented?” Ghost mutters, his back ramrod straight as he looms over the Doctor.

The posturing doesn’t make Novikov falter, “just as I would not allow an untested revenant with powers we have yet to record on field, I cannot allow you to possibly develop new ones. Today proved to me that, separately, you are stable. As we don’t have sufficient time to determine it… I have to recommend you to refrain from coming into contact while using your powers.”

Ghost scoffs, glaring at Laswell, “you signed on this bullshit?”

“Doctor Novikov is the best Spiritulogist we have, Ghost. He’s likely the closest to figuring out Lumity.”

“Ah can tell ye no one is feckin’ close to figuring out any Reaper, let alone Lumity.” Soap says bitterly, smug satisfaction spreading through him when he sees that the words make Novikov’s face sour.

He can also see Ghost’s eyes widen, before he turns them to Price and grunts, “order me, then, Captain.”

“Pardon?”

“Order me to stay away from Johnny on field, sir. Sign your bloody name on this.” Ghost challenges.

The Captain sighs, breaking eye contact for a moment, “you will not use Limbo around the Sergeant on field. That’s an order.”

“Understood, sir.” Ghost doesn’t seem surprised, “permission to be dismissed?”

Price’s expression makes Soap almost wince in sympathy. The feeling of regret spreads through the air as if someone doused the room with it, “granted. Don’t be late for the helo.”

Ghost doesn’t wait for Price to finish his sentence, before stepping heavily towards the door. He takes Soap’s shoulder and drags him along with a muttered, “on me, Sergeant.” Soap sends a confused look to the Captain, who simply waves him off.

He takes them outside, to the small space between buildings. Soap gets reminded of the conversation they had here, all those months ago.

“They think just because you died once, they can push and pull you like a puppet…”

“… Your strings are going to get tangled eventually.”

Soap doubted him then, even as his resolve crumbled every day Ghost didn’t talk to him.

He didn’t know just how true these words were.

They come to a stop there, Ghost breathing harshly, his grip on Soap’s shoulder shaky. Soap pushes him forward, until his back meets the wall.

Soap tries to think of something to say, anything to calm Simon. He wants to promise that they’ll be fine. He wants to tell him with no shadow of a doubt, that they will persevere, no matter what the future holds.

But he doesn’t want to lie to him.

So instead he asks, “are ye mad at the Captain?”

Simon shakes his head, “no. I know… know he had no choice. Brass has been on our case since Mexico.”

“Then why did ye leave?”

“The traitor.” Simon says, “thinking it might be that fucking Doctor…”

Soap thinks back to the interactions they had. If Novikov really is working with Fate… “Thought they had to be a revenant, not like Reapers talk teh humans.”

“He wouldn’t need to talk to a Reaper, would he? Its revenant will do just fine.”

Soap takes a step back, renewed determination coursing through him, “then we need to tell them! If Laswell looks into him, if Novikov really is the traitor, she will find something!”

He gets pulled before he can continue, “and reveal our cards? Don’t think so, Sergeant.” Simon wraps his arms around Soap’s shoulders, resting his chin on his head, “if we’re wrong, we just let Makarov know we know about the rat. If we are…”

“It could make Novikov run before we can catch him.” Soap sighs, hands coming up to grasp at Simon’s jacket, seeking cold, pale skin.

He feels hands tug at his laces, and his heart twists uncomfortably. “Are ye really gonna listen to Price’s order?”

“As long as you’re not in a life-threatening situation.” the arms around him tighten. Soap’s sneak under the jacket, running fingers up and down Simon’s spine, making him sag against him. “You better not explode yourself when I’m not around.”

Soap doesn’t answer, opting to nod. He doesn’t need to say the same goes for Simon; he’d burn anything that dares endanger him.

He will do his best to avoid injuries, he always does. But when it comes down to it, only one of them can bounce back from a headshot.

Soap can’t promise he won’t jump in front of a bullet for him.

They go back to base when the hour strikes 1500. Ghost separated from him, telling him he’ll talk to Price about the Doctor after Soap convinces him.

That leaves him to pack for the both of them. By now, Soap knows where Ghost stores all one billion of his knifes (seriously, how many knives does one man need? Bastard has steamin’ supernatural powers). He drops the rucksack in Ghost’s barrack, and gets to the tarmac.

At 1550, Gaz comes running by, his pack safely floating behind his shoulder. “Oi Soap! Price and Ghost are still in their ‘Super Secret Meeting’ or whatever, so we’re going to take the first helo together!”

“First helo?”

Gaz drops the rucksack beside him, already floating a few inches off the ground, “yeah, Laswell told us after you left, they’re planning on sending some supplies for the ULF to use.”

Right. Karim’s people probably need all the support they can get, after they lost Graves’ shadows. As much as he hated the bastard, he can admit his powers were convenient to have in battle.

The helo touches down, and Soap elbows Gaz, “och, we don’t need the old bastards anyway, do we?”

Kyle laughs as they board, “don’t let Price hear you call him old, he’s gonna make you run laps in Urzikstan.”

“Ye can’t hide shite from him, I bet he’s scrapin’ through our brains as we speak.” Soap cackles.

They pause for a moment, half expecting Price’s voice to boom in their heads, but it seems the Captain is too busy to listen in on their inane conversation.

Soap and Gaz share a look, before exploding with laughter. It feels good, to pretend everything’s fine for a few minutes. Their giggling dies down when the helo takes off, and Soap watches as the base get smaller and smaller.

He wonders how Ghost is doing.

Soap is used to long flight times, after several years in the SAS where he was often sent to opposite sides of the world on a moment’s notice. The almost seven-hour flight to Urzikstan is mostly spend chatting with Gaz, sleeping, or observing how the clouds gather above Asia as a storm brews.

He wakes Gaz up when the pilot announces over comms that they’re landing in 20. Gaz hates being asleep for that.

“How far behind do you think Price an’ Ghost are?” Kyle asks between yawns.

“Can’t be more than an hour, why?”

“I need a bloody shower before debrief,” Gaz sniffs, “and I don’t think I’m the only one.”

Soap gasps, “piss off!” he reaches over to shove at Gaz, before freezing.

Chk… chk… chk…

That sound… Soap smells at the air, and there…

It bursts under his tongue, as the clicks gain speed, an acrid taste he’s grown to know more than anyone. Gaz is calling out something, words lost on his ears, but the tone reads confused.

He looks down. In the row in front of them, several duffle bags have been shoved under the empty seats. Soap turns his senses to the one closest to the pilot. Moths are clinging to the rough fabric, embers glinting off the metal hull of the helo.

Chk-chk-chk-chk-chk-

He places the signs; HMX, Highly Melting Explosive, burns hot enough to eat straight through steel-

Soap jumps from his seat, burning the harness that kept him tied, and slams into Gaz. Kyle opens his mouth to ask what the fuck is going on, but he doesn’t get the chance.

The explosive goes off. The cabin is engulfed with flames, so bright his eyes burn, the following shockwave knocking both of them into the helo’s wall, Soap feels his body burning, his forehead hitting the hull-

And he loses consciousness.

The howling wind greets Soap when he wakes up. Breath stolen from his lungs, his eyes snap open, taking in the falling sky, mangled pieces of metal burning above him.

The full moon illuminates the dark clouds below him, when he looks down. It all feels so familiar, the plunge, charred hands grasping at air, the world reduced to a swirl of colors. He watches burning moths trail behind him, chasing the lingering heat of the explosion they so crave.

The moths lead him to Gaz. Unconscious, he too is falling.

Gaz is falling. Gaz is falling.

There’s a mangled part of the helo between them. Soap tucks his arms close to his chest, screaming as his burnt skin shifts with the movement. His plan works, however, and he manages to reach the half-molten steel.

It makes his palm bubble and sear, but Soap clenches his jaw, and with a flick of the wrist, explodes the metal.

It gives him just enough momentum to catch Gaz, their bodies spinning in the air.

The explosion was the cause of their fall, meaning Soap will survive, and even if it wasn’t, he would’ve just exploded himself on impact.

Soap will survive this. But Gaz isn’t made to fucking survive.

They fall through the sheet of clouds, water droplets caressing his overheated back, steaming and turning back into water. The world beneath them is dark, the only meager light comes from whatever hell is raining on them, and the ever-flaming moths.

He manages to grasp at Gaz’s tacvest, shaking him as much as he can.

“Kyle!!!” Soap yells, his words almost inaudible over the wind, “Gaz! Ye have teh wake up!!!”

The ground approaches them fast, desperation clawing at Soap’s guts. He feels tears run up his face, as he cries, “I won’t watch ye die, Garrick!!!”

This can’t be it. This can’t be the way Kyle goes.

“C’mon… Don’t do this teh me… DON’T DO THIS TEH ME!!!!!”

Soap pulls Kyle closer, tucking his slacken face beside his. He knows it won’t save him, but he turns as best as he can, so when they crash to the earth, Soap would hit it first.

“Please…” he whispers, the moths the only witness to his despair.

It can’t be more than a minute until they land, and in that minute Soap curses himself more than any enemy he ever felled.

Always strong enough to survive, never strong enough to save anyone.

It is then he hears a scream echo in his mind, so powerful he wants to cover his ears.

“SERGEANT. WAKE UP.”

Price.

Gravity switches on them, Soap’s stomach lurching painfully, his breath caught, shoulders creaking like they’re two seconds from dislocating.

Kyle’s hazel-brown eyes stare at him, wide with fear.

Gaz drops them both, Soap rolling to the side to vomit on the ground. He heaves, eyes watering once again as nothing but bile comes out.

Two hands grab at his shoulders, turning him around and making him yelp with pain.

It doesn’t seem like Gaz registers it, or his twisted expression, not when he’s near hyperventilating, the hands on him shaking.

“You’re- you’re not dead, Soap- y-you’re not dead, please, you can’t be dead-”

Soap swallows down the scream that claws up his throat, when Kyle’s hands tighten over his burnt shoulders. He’s sure he looks dead, he feels the burns go to the bone in some places. At least his face is fine, this time.

“Ah’m not dead, Gaz. Yer okay… we’re okay.”

Kyle stops his muttering, eyes brimming with tears. Soap wants to pull him into a hug, but not only that will probably make him pass out, he doesn’t want Gaz to see just how damaged his palms are.

“We’re on our way, Gaz, Soap, don’t move from your position.” Price relays to them.

Soap shakes away the black spots creeping into his vision. Fuck, he might pass out even without that hug, “copy, Captain.” he answers all the same.

Gaz jumps when he slumps forward. Fucking adrenaline crash.

“S-Soap-?!”

“Ah’m fine, jus’ gimme a mo’ teh heal…” Soap grunts. He digs his fingers into his palms, feels the muscles twitching with stabbing pain, and straightens.

Kyle seems lost in thought, he assumes Price is calming him. Soap looks up, moths still making their way down with what’s left of the helo.

It doesn’t take long for Price and Ghost to arrive.

Ghost is wearing his full getup, skull mask and all, but even like this Soap can tell he’s livid. He jumps out of the helo before it lands, running towards them.

His body started stitching itself together by now, muscles failing him a few times as they reconnect. It made Kyle startle every time, thinking Soap was finally kicking it. His palms don’t get the chance to heal, not with Soap using the pain to stay awake. He couldn’t leave Gaz like this.

Ghost crouches down between them, casting a hesitant look at him, and catching Gaz’s shoulder to give him a shake. Kyle has shut down on him, absolutely lost in his mind, reacting to nothing besides Soap’s bouts of weakness.

Price joins them, waving Ghost off, “I got him. Go.”

Soap meets Ghost’s dark eyes, barely visible in the Urzik night.

“Johnny…” Simon reaches for him, and he instinctively flinches when a gloved hand hovers over his back, “where does it hurt?”

Soap gives him a half-laugh, “everywhere, LT…”

Simon scans him, noting his gruesome state, and nods, reaching around to pull something from his pack. Soap raises an eyebrow when he sees it’s a syringe. “Wha’s that?”

“Morphine.”

Morphine? He doesn’t need that-

Price cuts him off, “Christ, kid, I don’t know how you’re bloody upright with the amount of pain you’re in. Give him the fuckin’ shot, Lieutenant.”

“Copy.” Ghost picks up his left hand, turning the palm up. He freezes. “Fuckin’ hell, Johnny…”

Soap looks away, hating the way Simon sounds disappointed. He fuckin’ promised him not a day ago he’d do his best to not injure himself, and here he is, stinking of burnt flesh.

Simon cleans the inner side of his elbow, and lines up the needle, “have you taken Morphine before?”

“... No.”

“Might make you sick.” Simon presses on the plunger, a cool feeling instantly spreading through Soap’s arm.

He shudders. Feels fuckin’ weird is what it is, “good thing Ah puked mah lunch earlier.” the joking tone falls flat when another round of pulling muscles makes him twitch, and in turn jostles his thin skin until it rips.

Simon circles him, and Soap hears the breath he intakes when he finally sees the wounds up close. His hand hasn’t left his, and it tightens minutely. Soap didn’t see them, doesn’t want to make anyone describe them either, but he’d be surprised if his ribs aren’t exposed.

“What happened?” Simon asks, voice strained.

Soap sighs, “someone planted a bomb in one o’ the duffle bags. Enough teh take down the helo with no survivors. Only reason Ah knew it was there was ‘cause of the timed mechanism.”

He turns his head to look at Simon, after he gets no answer. He finds him staring at Price.

“Someone knew we were gonna be there, LT.” Soap continues.

“Not you.” Price says slowly, “I was originally going to fly with Gaz, before Ghost asked to speak with me.”

…fuck. Soap looks down, at his shaking hands, flames weak as they burst from his fingertips.

If it was Price on that flight with Gaz instead of him… Neither of them would’ve survived.

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cauchesque · 7 months ago

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i learned programming in basically the worst way possible- accidentally while reading technical documentation for entertainment. i had github on my phone before i knew what git was because that's where my readmes were. i don't like doing things i don't understand! so id just read and then intj-meme a sufficiently high fidelity simulation. this has the effect that i tend to jump to doing things the "right" way from the start (good) but only if i totally understand it (mixed)

all this is to say i tried to learn python in high school, eventually needed to install a package (i forget what, maybe some way of making a clicker? i was cringe in those days), and was confused as to what pip was doing. that grossed me out enough that i didn't use python again for several years while i learned about package management via increasingly technical search terms. and this is how i sat down next to my friend to learn python, explained to him how to set up a virtual environment (via the built-in venv, none of this janky shit), then learned some finer details like the existence of list comprehensions

#the punchline is that i knew their ways as though born among them bc i secretly read about them ahead of time #just like paul in dune

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frozenjokes · 9 months ago

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Toys Like Tape Measures (And A Brand New Splint!)

tw for drugging, though only in the medical sense. however, because of the language barrier, Mumbo doesn’t understand what’s happening really, so if that makes you uncomfortable I would skip

“Alright, so here’s the deal,” Mumbo heard Scar before he even reached the clearing, and he couldn’t be more excited. Scar was back, (and Grian was there too) he was finally back after being gone all week! “Today we’re going to fix that splint- ope- don’t make that face at me yet, let me explain, let me explain. I promise it will be 100% safe.”

“So many things- so many things, Scar, but you are not a doctor, much less a veterinarian- how do you even think this is going to work? Mumbo won’t even let us touch him, what makes you think anything about this will be safe?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of research, Grian! I’ve talked to every large animal vet I know, and a few fish people as well! This big ol’ bag on my back you’ve been nagging me about has everything we’ll need! Well, except the fish. You’re going to have to catch a few of those.”

“Scar! Fishing in this spot isn’t even very good and you know it, if you needed fish, why wouldn’t you bring any.”

“Forgot.”

There was a small silence before the two humans burst into the clearing, climbing through the path they’d ended up making through the brush by walking through so many times. Mumbo surfaced to greet them, though they were still preoccupied with each other.

“Of course,” Grian groaned, sighing as he threw down his bag, “Guess I’ll get to it then.”

“That’s the spirit!” Scar beamed, patting the other human hard on the back, who made a soft oof sound before scuttling away, moving to hide its face from Scar as it turned a reddish color. Odd. Usually Grian would yell at Scar for doing something like that, rightfully so (Mumbo still didn’t understand why Scar would randomly hit his friend), but instead Grian was far more meek. Had something happened? Maybe since Scar was hurt, Grian was taking a more passive role than normal. Mermaids were gentler with sick friends as well, and Mumbo knew quite well he could get away with more when he was unwell.

But it was good to see Scar looking healthy. His shoulder was still bandaged, visible under his shirt, but he couldn’t be feeling too badly given his bright demeanor, and his movement didn’t seem to be impaired at all. Thank goodness.

If it was even possible, Scar brightened further when he spotted Mumbo, happily throwing off unnecessary clothes before hopping right into the water, showing absolutely zero signs of fear. Oh, that was a weight off Mumbo’s back; he didn’t even realize how worried he was about Scar being afraid of him until now, until Scar very clearly wasn’t. Good, good..

Mumbo met Scar in the shallows, deep enough that he could keep his tail from dragging on the sand, but shallow enough where he could navigate with his hands; he was in near constant pain even with a week to recover, and while slow, pulling himself along the bottom with his hands caused the least agony on his tail. His splint was sufficiently broken now, only getting more uncomfortable with every passing day. At this point, Mumbo was just waiting for it to fall off; trying to figure out how it was attached was far too painful, though he had tried briefly a couple of times (with little success).

“Hello, Mumbo!” Scar greeted him, “I’ve got something you’re going to like. I’m pretty sure you like human stuff, so you’ll get a kick out of this.” Scar held up a small silver object, round, but not quite circular. Mumbo moved to get a closer look, though he couldn’t lift himself very far out of the water, so Scar crouched down to get it closer. “Tape measure.”

Mumbo squinted. “What.”

“Tape measure.” Huh. Weird word. Usually human words weren’t that long, though, maybe Mumbo had only learned the shorter ones. Was this a human tool? Mumbo attempted to snatch it, but Scar was faster, jumping back with a surprised look on his face. On his perch, Grian laughed.

“I told you! I told you he’d try to take that, and you won’t be getting it back.”

“Well he can have it if he wants, but not before I’m done!” Scar huffed, then turned back to Mumbo, speaking sternly, “No.” Mumbo stared, unamused. He could have guessed Scar didn’t want him to have its human tool, that didn’t change the fact that he was going to take it.

“Scar,” he tried, reaching out a hand a little slower. Maybe it wouldn’t see? ‘Your human object. Give me.’ he continued in a whistle due to the lack of human words, but Scar only huffed, an incredulous smile across its face.

“No!” Scar repeated a tad more forcefully, but Mumbo could see the smile on his face, he knew well enough he could keep trying. Mumbo moved a little forward, hoping to get within reach, but Scar stepped back, then back again, rolling his eyes, “You’re going to make measuring you really difficult, Mumbo.”

“Yeah,” Grian said from across the way, a small laugh in his tone, “I’d say I’ve got plenty of time to catch something.”

“You will, but this is not the reason!” Scar yelled back, pointing an accusatory finger, but the smile never left Scar’s face, and soon his focus was squarely back on Mumbo (who definitely hadn’t tried to snatch at the device while it was distracted).

The tool made a soft whirring sound as Scar pulled on one end, a flat yellow line appearing from inside the device, then snapping back when Scar let go. Whoa. What was that? What was the purpose? Scar moved a little bit closer, pulling the yellow line further this time, but when Mumbo managed to touch it, the line snapped back into the silver device with a sharp crack. Huh. Was it alive? Maybe it was shy? It looked a little bit like a snail..

“What.” Mumbo said, hoping for more information, but Scar only put his hands on his hips, making a show of his annoyance.

“I can’t show you if you keep trying to take it from me!” Nonsense. Guess Mumbo would just have to take it to figure it out for himself.

The next thirty minutes was an odd dance of Scar struggling to keep his distance while also trying to line up the tape measure with Mumbo’s body, and Mumbo would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying the game. The tape measure hurt if it snapped back on Mumbo’s hand, but if anything, that only made the game more exciting. Even with the limited use of his tail, he found himself splashing far more than usual, a certain recklessness brought about only by play. He didn’t even want the tape measure anymore (lie), he just wanted to keep up the game. Scar did not like the game as much, less and less as more time passed, but Grian seemed amused at least, occasionally looking over to laugh when Scar stumbled or outright fell over.

“I could use a little help here if you don’t mind!” Scar called, and Grian laughed again, the sound coming out more like a cackle.

“I thought you had it handled? You kept insisting you were fine, what changed?”

“He just won’t stop moving! Listen, I’ve measured plenty of animals, but they don’t usually have hands! He’s being impossible- he knows I’m not trying to hurt him and he knows I need him to stay still and he’s just not listening! On purpose! This was supposed to be easy!”

“He looks like he’s having fun, I wouldn’t want to rain on his parade.”

“Grian! Help me!” Scar cut himself off with a yelp as Mumbo lunged for the tape measure, but he didn’t get far with his limited mobility, so Scar stepped easily out of reach. He was lucky Mumbo couldn’t use his tail, lucky. With another short laugh, Grian got up from where he was fishing, making his way gingerly off the rocks and giggling as he went before stepping into the water as well. Ah, so another challenger joins the fray!

Though, with Grian holding one side of the yellow line, Mumbo couldn’t quite grab at it anymore, the whole thing bending and snapping like it might break in two if Mumbo wasn’t careful. And that wouldn’t do, no no, how could he figure out its purpose if it was broken?

Instead, he stilled so he could watch instead- wow the line went out so far! How much could fit in there? How far could it go? Mumbo moved to follow the humans’ movement, but they seemed to want to pull the line the length of Mumbo’s tail, chirping nonsense to each other the entire time. At least Scar looked excited; it was always nice when Scar was happy, nice enough that Mumbo didn’t mind all that much that their game was effectively over. Mumbo didn’t love how close they were getting, but a small flash of his teeth was enough to get Grian’s attention, who communicated to Scar in Mumbo’s stead.

It wasn’t very long before the two of them were satisfied though, Grian easing the yellow line back into the tape measure. Mumbo took his chance, lunging as quickly as his impaired mobility would allow, but Scar surprised him by turning around instead of jumping away like normal. While Mumbo was scrambling to keep himself from running face first into Scar’s legs, the human tossed him the tape measure, the thing plopping heavily into the water. Mumbo gaped for a moment before grabbing it, but when he resurfaced, Scar was walking toward the shore, chatting away with Grian like the tape measure didn’t mean anything at all. Well.. okay.

No matter! Mumbo had a new toy, and first he wanted to know just how long this yellow line was. The answer was very long. Mumbo lodged one end under a rock and swam as far as the line would allow, and while he was quite impressed with the length, he was even more excited when he let go of the metal base, the whole thing shooting back in the other direction. Yes! Yes! Mumbo did the same thing at least seven more times before getting a little bored, then experimented with the tape measure above the water, where it snapped back much faster. The height of his fun was setting the end of the yellow line under a rock on the surface, bringing metal end to the other side of the cove, then letting go and watching the thing skirt across the water, splashing all the way. He was relatively sure he made some sort of trill or other noise in his excitement, as Scar and Grian’s laughing caught his attention. Mumbo cringed a little, suddenly very aware of their eyes on him, but his embarrassment was short lived, outweighed by the joy of funny human trinket.

Mumbo would have spent the rest of the day playing with the tape measure, but something else caught his eye. Scar was working on something- no, he was making something. Mumbo had never seen a human make something before- not in the way Mumbo liked to do! Scar’s creative process looked very similar as well, which is to say, all the materials he brought were strewn all over the grass, wildly unorganized as he fiddled with different parts. Most of his materials were long metal rods, but there were also some leather looking pieces, and what looked like parts of white tubing as well. What was he up to?

Mumbo shimmied as close to the shore as his tail would allow, hoping to grab Scar’s attention. “What. What. What,” he said in human, hoping the extra emphasis would translate through the repeated words.

Scar looked up, clearly amused, but seemed to struggle with explaining, starting and stopping speaking several times before settling with, “For you.” Not very helpful, and Scar knew it, making a couple of vague gestures at Mumbo before giving up and going back to his project. Well.. that was fine. Mumbo would just have to watch.

Scar was mostly focused on the leather piece, positioning it in a circular way and winding the metal through to create a cage-looking structure. The leather was adjustable too, Scar fiddling with a buckle on the front to make the entire thing wider or smaller. Mumbo was particularly fascinated by the white pieces though, much flatter than the rods, which Scar only weaved through one side. Why? He tried to ask again what the human was doing, but was only offered the same non-answer.

“Oh!” Grian made a surprised noise from his place on the rocks, and Mumbo saw his line tighten. If only he was fast enough to snag whatever was on it off the hook, but alas, Grian was already reeling in a decent sized fish. Scar hopped to his feet and Grian let out a celebratory noise of his own; it was so cute how humans got so excited about every catch. Though, in all fairness, Mumbo would have been quite chuffed catching a fish that size, especially this hungry. Maybe if humans really didn’t eat the fish they caught, they’d be open to sharing.

Grian scooped the fish off the line with a net, maneuvering the hook out of its mouth before walking it back toward the shore to Scar, who cheered all the while.

“Right,” Grian said as he hit the sand, “You want to give this to him? I’m assuming you’re going to drug him or something.”

“That’s the plan. I was considering a tranquilizer, but I don’t want to make this experience traumatic or anything, and hauling a big ol’ rifle out here might put a damper on some of the trust we’ve established. Hopefully this way he’ll just be real relaxed, maybe even take a nice little nap.”

“You’re not trying to put him to sleep? What are you giving him?”

“Not necessarily, but I doubt he’ll be able to stay awake. Trust me when I say he won’t be in pain, definitely not. And I brought a cone, too, just in case he freaks. I came prepared, Grian, prepared I tell you. I’m no large animal vet, but you could say I’ve been quite involved in many a procedure.”

“Scar, what are you giving him?”

“Like.” Scar paused, tapping the smile on his lips, “A lot of morphine.”

“Morphine?”

“Works on fish. Mumbo’s big, he can handle it, and anyway, it’s the safest option for everyone involved. Are you worried about our friend, Grian?”

“I’m not- how did you even get morphine, Scar?”

“Scar’s not taking any more questions at this time, please call back later. In the meantime, hand me that fish so we can get this show on the road. I’ll stay with him as long as he needs me, but I’m not expecting anything to go wrong here. Still, the sooner we start, the better.” Scar got to his feet, taking the fish net from a gaping Grian and heading back to his bag. Mumbo couldn’t quite see what he was doing, but Grian followed quickly after, fretting the entire time. What, was something wrong with the fish? Scar didn’t seem to think so.

Maybe Grian hadn’t wanted Scar to give Mumbo his catch, but Scar did regardless. Mumbo was more than happy to accept the gift, only throwing Grian one mildly guilty look before devouring the whole thing. He didn’t feel very bad, not really; clearly the humans ate well enough, and given he was having a hard time hunting right now, this seemed fair.

Eating only served to brighten his mood, and with the slight weight off his chest, watching Scar continue working on his human device was all the more fun. Grian went back to fishing on his rock, but he was acting more anxious than normal, stealing glances toward Scar and Mumbo just about every time he cast his line. Though, it didn’t take very long for Mumbo to stop caring, far more intrigued by whatever Scar was up to. It was crazy how much better he was feeling; usually the joy of eating didn’t carry so far after a meal, but when Mumbo was this hungry..

And then it hit him; he wasn’t in pain. The lightness he was feeling was from the lack of hurting- oh that couldn’t be good. What kind of fish was that? He hadn’t even looked! Please say he hadn’t accidentally poisoned himself… Mumbo didn’t feel nauseous though. And if he’d poisoned himself, he imagined he’d be feeling a lot sicker. And he had so much energy! Anyone with this much energy wouldn’t be poisoned, that would be ridiculous! He should do something- go somewhere- hunt- he could do anything! … Nevermind.

Not in pain, no, but tired, goodness, maybe he was dying. Probably not. But maybe. Honestly, he didn’t care all that much. Scar was looking at him an awful lot now, though Mumbo wished he would focus on his invention instead so Mumbo could figure out what it was before he died. Hm.. It kind of looked a little bit like his splint, didn’t it?

…

The gentle touch of skin on scales. A presence around his neck, tight, mildly uncomfortable, but not enough for Mumbo to want to do anything about it. A crack, loud enough to frighten him, to open his eyes, but there was no pain, so it must not have been bone. Something was draped over his eyes, dark like home. It was nice. A couple of clicks told him of Forces, big and near and moving; he should probably swim away, but that’d be quite a bit of effort, wouldn’t it. Maybe another time.

His fins rose and fell with the presence and absence of touch. Not unpleasant. Not until they tried to lift him.

Pain like thorns lit his blood, everywhere, pain, pain- Some sort of noise escaped his throat, something animal, and he moved without coordination- it hurt, everything hurt now. Distantly he heard them, humans, why were humans here? Talking, they were talking nothing, repeating the same words again and again, “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Couldn’t they see he was in pain? Why weren’t they helping?

Too much time passed before his attackers released him, but wasn’t sitting in the water the same as before. It was awkward, unpleasant honestly, but he stopped struggling quickly. Too painful to move. Too much effort.

He wanted to curl up. Somewhere dark, somewhere enclosed and safe. Something hard stopped his movement. Guess that was that.

But maybe that was fine.

Whatever had been there was gone now. Nothing else was trying to hurt him. That was good. That was enough.

…

The humans were talking. They were loud, Mumbo could hear them, though his face burned just slightly, a dry feeling. Was he above the water? It didn’t much concern him.

“He’s still asleep, Scar.”

“That’s fine. Normal, even. He’s going to be fine; if he was going to have any bad reactions, I’m pretty sure we would have known by now. I’ve been keeping an eye on his breathing, and it’s stayed consistent this whole time. He’s okay.”

“You said four hours. It’s been five.”

“Yeah, for a human on a human dose. I also told you I don’t know exactly how it’ll work on a mermaid. I doubt anyone knows. I gave him quite a bit more than a human dose anyway, and I’m pretty sure he needed it. He was freaking out when we were trying to get the splint on.”

“I just don’t like the fact that we drugged him without being sure how he’d react.”

“I don’t know what else you wanted me to do, Grian. He was not going to let us touch him, and I don’t think there’s any world in which we could have explained what we were trying to accomplish. Tail injuries could be fatal for mermaids, we don’t know. How’s he supposed to eat if he can’t swim? It’s not like we can weigh him. This was the safest option.”

“You really think we couldn’t have explained it to him? He’s smart, Scar, he’s really observant.”

“I don’t know, I think there’s a chance. But what would happen if he got scared? Even a human might’ve panicked, even if they knew every detail about what we were doing. And you know how strong he is- I’ve still got bruises on my arms from where he grabbed me. He could have hurt himself or us completely by accident.”

A long silence. “I know.”

A longer silence.

“So when’d you change your tune?”

“What?”

“About Mumbo. Nearly every day two weeks ago you made sure to remind me how you were totally going to kill him and sell all his parts or whatever, but I haven’t heard a peep from you since Monday. Did you come out here without me and have some sorta spiritual experience or what?”

“I- no. Of course not. I’m still planning on doing that, I just decided I’d spare your feelings and stop talking about it.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes! And anyway, with you paying me egregious prices for my fish, I’m not exactly hurting for money right now. So it’s fine. I’m not in any rush.”

“That’s good to know.”

“Stop- stop talking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t believe me.”

“Well, Grian, that’s going to be a problem because you’re right, I don’t believe you.”

“I- how dare you! I am going to do it! I could do it right now even, but I won’t, and not because I don’t want to, but it wouldn’t be fair, not while he’s all drugged up.”

“I see.”

“Stop it!”

“I believe you, I believe you.”

“No you don’t!”

“Shhh,” Scar said, his voice dropping, “No fighting,” he trailed off, and the silence was charged with something new, something Mumbo picked up on even in his half-asleep state.

“No fighting,” Grian repeated softly, “He wouldn’t like that.”

“Mm,” Scar acknowledged him quietly, but spoke no more words, and neither did Grian. That, or Mumbo had just fallen asleep again. Possible, all things considered. That was okay.

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft fic #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #grian #mumbo jumbo #scarian #hermitshipping #it’s there.#mumbomaid au #hermitfic

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therabbitthatpostthings · 8 months ago

Text

Okay let’s talk about Murder Drones.

SPOILERS FOR EP 7 LIKE A LOT LIKE ALL OF IT. MURDER DRONES SPOILERS HERE

Let’s start with the stuff I was right about.

Damn you tumblr and your limited image count

Tessa is Cyn/Absolute Solver:

I should not have been as happy about that scene as I was but I felt vindicated. Amongst my friend group everyone was thinking Tessa was the last human or working with Cyn/AS. Not me! I knew that little freak was in there and I’m so happy I was right. I also noticed that when Tessa is scanned she is never registered as a human.

(In order: Doll, Uzi, The Sentinel)

Also she is just dismissive and rude to her supposed “friends”. She tells Uzi not to date “her robot”, blindly thought V and N would just follow her despite the “company” stranding them and of course orders J to mind her ship. Not to mention telling Uzi to wait in the box while her and N take care of everything else.

Someone else mentioned that Tessa despite being way older now should be as tall as her mother was but yet she is still the same height as N and can lift him. Disassembly Bots are a lot heavier than Worker Drones.

Edit: Tessa also understands Doll. It makes sense of the Drones too but Tessa (possibly American with a British accent cause her parents are posh posers) Elliot probably doesn’t know Russian.

Cyn made the Disassembly Drones:

Nori straight up confirms this so not surprised. Ep5 showed Cyn/AS was capable of resetting them in the mansion. Also in the first episode when N is restarted first by Uzi and then J, it showed that the system admin is Cyn and not JCJensen. We see it briefly in Ep5 before Uzi becomes the System Admin. This is also shown when Cyn/AS tries to reboot N by bringing back his memories but can’t.

This also leads me to think that their memories are erased from planet to planet. We know that there are plenty of disassembly bots but only J, N and V remain. I do think it would be a stretch to say that every bot is just a clone of these three. My point is, they have destroyed other planets. J and N may not be as aware as V is but this has taken a toll on all of them. My main reasoning behind this is that in N’s flashback we see a world about to be destroyed. Drones and humans are being slaughtered. I think Cyn/AS sends bots to the world and when the world implodes she just reboots them to a new server body. We know that “effective drones were cloned more”. Makes V statement more accurate, Cyn/AS will keep doing the same horrors in as many bodies as she needs to get what she wants.

Edit: this point will not completely inaccurate does imply that they have cleared other planets. We could easily be only talking about Earth. Unlike Copper 9 the earth is well…the EARTH. Cyn’s backups of N, J and V could have easily been destroyed in the fight to clear out the earth, hence why those three have so many clones ready to go. All we know is that JCJenson did have other colonies and the Earth is destroyed. Nothing says that Disassembly Drones have gotten to those planets yet or at all.

Onto the other stuff now.

Absolute Solver = Vampirism

The disassembly drones have always had the allusion to vampires (N sleeps upside down, can’t be in the sun, need for oil, etc). I didnt think it would take a somewhat literal aspect. So we know that Absolute Solver program can create organic material but we didn’t question the how. When I posted yesterday about the oil vs “not oil”, after rewatching it on my TV I can confidently say, It’s not oil. It’s blood.

So Solver needs blood to make organic material which is why Solver infected bots can bleed. Something we kinda knew when N regrew his head and Alice dissecting Disassembly Drones. And you know, Solver straight up saying “Let’s eat!”.

Which explains why Cyn/AS took over Tessa. A self sufficient, self-feeding, suit that would keep her safe on Cooper 9. Also to access the database to get the list of infected drones.

Edit: I forgot to mention that Cyn/AS literally eats Doll’s core. Her HEART.

I also meant that AS infected Drones and Disassembly Drones don’t ONLY need Oil. They (Uzi, N, V, J, Doll, Cyn/AS) need and/or consum both.

There is no saving Cyn

Yeah she’s gone. At this point the only thing keeping Cyn alive would be the Solver, if she she is alive. The fact that all of Solver’s admin goes in between absolutesolver_ and _cyn means that they are one and the same by now. Not really a theory just something I’ve been thinking on.

Uzi and N

He is so lame your honor I love him. I truly believe they’ve been “dating” since post-prom. Dating in a way that neither of them realized was dating. EP6 would have been the most definitive showing of that. I also believe V knew and said nothing.

These fucking losers I love them so much:

Thanks to Khan saying Uzi’s interest include “cannibalism and Nightcore”, it’s fair to assume Nori was still eating people/oil before she got “killed”.

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bibliophilicstranger · 2 months ago

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What if Snape was killed by Lupin when he transformed after Sirius sent Snape there/James was too late?

There's definitely enough for a long fic here and I think there are a few different ways it could go (this is not exhaustive, there are so many domino consequences of this).

The implication from the books is that if Snape had been killed by Lupin, that Sirius would be sent to Azkaban and Lupin killed. James and Peter would have been the only Marauders left and they'd probably have been devastated. It well could have brought them closer together, or it could have driven them apart. Either option could have thwarted Peter's betrayal, either by making him more willing to stand up for James or by eliminating him from James' trusted circle.

I had always assumed (as many fans did) that the werewolf prank was in the Marauders' sixth year, but apparently there's something in DH (the book I'm least familiar with) that suggests it happens in fifth year, before O.W.L.s. This could mean fans were wrong, or it could be that Rowling messed up her own timeline.

If it did happen before Snape called Lily a "Mudblood" then she was still friends with him, and she might well refuse to ever talk to James again, especially if he ever tried to defend Sirius. This would certainly derail the whole series and maybe Neville would have been the Chosen One instead. Conversely, their grief over the death of their friends could bring them closer together if she knew James tried to intervene or he was sufficiently remorseful and they might end up closer earlier.

If it took place in sixth year, Snape's death would be less impactful on Lily. They wouldn't actively be friends and while she might not think Sirius was in the right (absolutely she would not), I think Remus' death would hit harder than Snape's at that time. Any ire against James for supporting Sirius might be less (especially if she knows of Sirius' struggles and separation from his family) but there's still the same possibilities as above.

Dumbledore would have taken a massive political hit. There would have been huge backlash to having allowed a werewolf to attend Hogwarts and he may well have lost his job. He might not have lost the confidence of the Order, but it would have hampered his ability to recruit. Even if Dumbledore kept his job, no werewolf would ever have been allowed to attend Hogwarts again, even secretly.

Now for the more interesting variations.

If Eileen Prince was dead by the time that the werewolf prank happened, then it's possible that Severus' death could have been covered up by Dumbledore. Tobias, as a muggle and one not fond of magic, probably had no idea of how to contact Hogwarts and probably wouldn't have cared much if Snape went missing. He could have assumed Snape was staying with friends, or had left school to get a job (the school leaving age being 16 in the muggle world in the 70s). Snape's friends' families could have been more of a problem but it's possible Dumbledore could have explained Snape's disappearance by his father pulling him out and moving to another country, his father calling him home for a family illness and/or even his father killing him while he was home visiting. It wouldn't have been difficult to take one muggle and change their name, move them, and make them forget they had a son. Unethical, certainly, but not undoable. Tobias also could have been dead by this time. If so, there would be no one to miss him in the muggle world and estranged relatives who'd assumed his guardianship taking him to live elsewhere could be the excuse. If it's fifth year and Snape was still friends with Lily it would be harder to handle, but as long as Tobias was gone before her parents could check, then Dumbledore could probably pull it off.

Remus killing a student would have been bad for Dumbledore politically, as explained above. Dumbledore could have decided that instead of exposing Remus to punishment, the whole matter should be hushed up. Remus was 'chronically ill'; it couldn't have been difficult to fake a worse illness that required him to leave school. Alternatively, if it was being hushed up, Remus could have stuck around, but with even more indebtedness to Dumbledore and stricter regulations. I also wouldn't put severe mental health consequences out of the question to desolate ends.

In this case, dealing with Sirius could have taken several forms. Dumbledore could have used guilt and the threat of having him arrested to push Sirius to leave Hogwarts on his own, having him run away. He could have punished him for a false reason, such as being out at night or a prank that he was caught in the midst of setting up, something that would lead to massive points loss and detentions, even expulsion if a suitable excuse could be found (though it seems very hard to expel students, considering what characters have gotten away with in the series without such an occurence). Alternatively, Sirius could have escaped punishment entirely, were it too suspicious to punish him.

The interpersonal relationship changes however, would be immense. Even if hushed up so that only, say, Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, Sirius, Remus, and James knew what had happened, there would still be outward signs of the aftermath. Sirius and Remus' friendship would likely be permanently broken. James and Peter would be caught in the middle between them if Sirius remained at school. James wouldn't approve of what Sirius did, but if Sirius was significantly contrite, I find it possible that overtime their friendship could mend. Would Sirius still be allowed to stay with James the next summer? If James doesn't tell his parents, they'd probably still welcome him home.

Although she and the rest of the school would know that something happened from the way the Marauders were behaving, Lily probably wouldn't know what happened unless someone involved told her. She might never find out, or might only find out much later. James would probably sober up and mature quite a bit because of the incident. An estrangement from Sirius might pull James and/or Remus closer to Lily. One of them might tell her out of guilt, but if they were admitting it freely and they were at odds with Sirius, she probably wouldn't take it out on them (though she might well take it out on Sirius, even without being able to say why).

Beyond all this, it does have interesting implications for the prophecy. If there is no Snape, it's possible the first half is never given to Voldemort. If it's never given to Voldemort, he never has reason to target Neville and Harry specifically, they never go into hiding and they die or don't die/are attacked and vanquish him depending on if he attacks their families for the other reasons he already had to go after them.

If it's heard by another spy, perhaps they hear all of it because they're sneakier, or less of it, or exactly the same amount. If all, then Voldemort knows not to attack them, or attacks the parents and steals the children to raise as his own. If less, maybe he has more options and chooses a different family to attack.

Another spy likely wouldn't have turned double agent over the decision made by Voldy, so Dumbledore wouldn't have had a spy in his ranks. He would have operated with less information, though as he knew the contents of the prophecy, he could have figured out who the likely targets were and worked to draw the conclusion he wanted out.

Snape has a large impact on the later events and putting a hole in the narrative where he is would have fascinating consequences. You'd have to fill the gaps in some how, with different characters, different relationships, different series of events. Beyond setting up the Voldemort-Harry conflict, the life of every Hogwarts student from 1981(?) onward would be changed as Snape wouldn't be the potions professor.

Feel free to tag me or send an ask if you have a story that addresses this!

#harry potter #asks #james potter #lily evans #sirius black #severus snape #albus dumbledore #remus lupin #werewolves in schools are dangerous things #no matter how nice they are when the full moon's not around

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